I Do Love I Know Not What;

Here A Pretty Baby Lies Sung Asleep With Lullabies: Pray Be Silent, And Not Stirre The Easie Earth That Covers Her.

Give Me A Kiss, And To That Kiss A Score: Then To That Twenty, Add A Hundred More.

I Dare Not Ask A Kiss; I Dare Not Beg A Smile; Lest Having That Or This, I Might Grow Proud The While. No, No, The Utmost Share Of My Desire Shall Be Only To Kiss That Air, That Lately Kissed Thee.

Tis Not The Food, But The Content, That Makes The Table's Merriment.

Gather Ye Rose-buds While Ye May, Old Time Is Still A Flying: And This Same Flower That Smiles To Day, Tomorrow Will Be Dying.