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Robert Herrick - Hymn To Love
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I will confess
With cheerfulness,
Love is a thing so likes me,
That, let her lay
On me all day,
I`ll kiss the hand that strikes me.

I will not, I,
Now blubb`ring cry,
It, ah!  too late repents me
That I did fall
To love at all—
Since love so much contents me.

No, no, I`ll be
In fetters free;
While others they sit wringing
Their hands for pain,
I`ll entertain
The wounds of love with singing.

With flowers and wine,
And cakes divine,
To strike me I will tempt thee;
Which done, no more
I`ll come before
Thee and thine altars empty.
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