“I prithee send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine; For if from yours you will not part, Why then shouldst thou have mine? John Suckling
“Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice, stole in and out, As if they feared the light; But oh, she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter-day Is half so fine a sight.John Suckling
“Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move, This cannot take her. If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her. The devil take her! John Suckling
“Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can’t move her, Looking ill prevail? John Suckling