There is a lady sweet and kind,
 Was never face so pleas'd my mind;
 I did but see her passing by,
 And yet I love her till I die.

 Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
 Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles,
 Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
 And yet I love her till I die.

 Her free behaviour, winning looks,
 Will make a lawyer burn his books;
 I touch'd her not, alas! not I,
 And yet I love her till I die.

 Had I her fast betwixt mine arms,
 Judge you that think such sports were harms,
 Were't any harm? no, no, fie, fie,
 For I will love her till I die.

 Should I remain confined there
 So long as Ph{oe}bus in his sphere,
 I to request, she to deny,
 Yet would I love her till I die.

 Cupid is winged and doth range,
 Her country so my love doth change:
 But change she earth, or change she sky,
 Yet will I love her till I die.