A SUPPLEMENT OF AN IMPERFECT COPY OF VERSES|
OF MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE'S, BY THE
by Sir John Suckling
ONE of her hands one of her cheeks lay under,
Cosening the pillow of a lawful kiss,
Which therefore swell'd, and seem'd to part asunder,
As angry to be robb'd of such a bliss :
The one lookt pale, and for revenge did long,
While t'other blush'd, 'cause it had done the wrong.
Out of the bed the other fair hand was
On a green satin quilt, whose perfect white
Lookt like a daisy in a field of grass,*
And shew'd like unmelt snow unto the sight :
There lay this pretty perdue, safe to keep
The rest o' th' body that lay fast asleep.
Her eyes, (and therefore it was night), close laid,
Strove to imprison beauty till the morn ;
But yet the doors were of such fine stuff made,
That it broke through, and shew'd itself in scorn,
Throwing a kind of light about the place,
Which turned to smiles still, as 't came near her face.
Her beams, which some dull men called hair, divided,
Part with her cheeks, part with her lips, did sport ;
But these, as rude, her breath put by still : some
Wiselier downwards sought, but, falling short,
Curl'd back in rings, and seem'd to turn again
To bite the part so unkindly held them in.
* Thus far Shakespear.
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