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‹‹‹ prev (60) Page 42Page 42Ane letter from ane lover to his Mrs

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That, in your companie,
Refreshment I may find ;
Changing my destiny,
By finding yon soe kind.
For if Love ben't mutuall.
One of two sure most die ;
Bot if reciprocall,
Both may preserved be.
The last words that ye said,
Give me some comfort still ;
Wishing me weel repayd
With feaverish fitts wntill
With love I were Inflamed,
To follow efter the ;
The truth, if ye weell kend,
The effects ye might sie.
Bot if ye stop yo'' eyes,
And wilfully be blind,
I doe pronunce yow heer,
Cursed of Avoman kind.
Bot, if yow answer make.
When here, I was not kind ;
It is noe great mistake
In Bodie, not in Mind.
For, where ye ever are.
My heart there still shall be,
Soe it were ne'er soe far
In distance, dear Betie 1
FINIS CORONAT OPUS.

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