The Fourth Sonnet
Onely Joy, now here you are,
Fit to heare and ease my care:
Let my whispering voyce obtaine
Sweete rewards for sharpest paine:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
2 Night hath closde all in her cloke,
Twinkling starres love thoughts provoke,
Danger hence good care doth keepe,
Jelouzie him selfe doth sleepe:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
3 Better place no wit can finde
Cupids knot to loose or binde,
These sweete flowers, our fine bed too,
Us in their best language wooe:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
4 This small light the Moone bestoes,
Serves thy beames for to disclose,
So to raise my heart more hie:
Feare not, els none can us spie:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
5 That you heard was but a mouse,
Dumbe Sleepe holdeth all the house,
Yet a sleepe (methinks) they say,
Yong fooles, take time while you may:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
6 Niggard time threates if we misse
This large offer of our blisse,
Long stay ere shee graunt the same:
Sweete then, while ech thing doth frame
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
7 Your faire Mother is a bed,
Candles out, and curtaines spred;
Shee thinkes you do letters write:
Write, but first let me endite.
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
8 Sweete, alas why strive you thus?
Concord better fitteth us;
Leave to Mars the force of hands.
Your power in your beautie stands.
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
9 Woe to mee, and do you sweare,
Me to hate but I forbeare?
Curst be my destinies all,
That brought mee so high to fall:
Soone with my death Ile please thee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.