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Marry, what an idle story This of my renouncing wine is!
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From the garden of thy beauty If a fruit cull I, what is it?
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Show thy face and self's existence From my memory tear away
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That bitter wine I crave, whose might Man's wit and will oppresses
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This, for such as these the present Times, I see expedient
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Winecup and love and loveling I'll nevermore forsake
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Flask in hand and verse-reciting, Warm with wine and laughing-eyed
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Each man of happy sight, who would The way of heart's content fare
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No account of thee thou writest, Past although is many a day
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He, in whom desire of traffic With thy down, my sweet, shall be
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