Love in my bosom like a bee
Doth suck his sweet:
Now with his wings he plays with me,
Now with his feet.
Within mine eyes he makes his nest,
His bed amidst my tender breast;
My kisses are his daily feast,
And yet he robs me of my rest:
Ah! wanton, will ye?

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Robert Greene (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.