To Cupid for Pardon
Cupid, pardon what is past,
And forgive our sins at last!
Then we will be coy no more,
But thy deity adore;
Troths at fifteen we will plight,
And will tread a dance each night,
In the fields, or by the fire,
With the youths that have desire.
Given ear-rings we will wear,
Bracelets of our lovers’ hair,
Which they on our arms shall twist,
With their names carved, on our wrist:
All the money that we owe
We in tokens will bestow;
And learn to write that, when ’tis sent,
Only our loves know what is meant.
Oh, then pardon what is past,
And forgive our sins at last.
Beaumont and Fletcher.