Church-Musick

Sweetest of sweets,

I thank you: when displeasure          Did through my bodie wound my minde,

You took me thence; and in your house of pleasure          A daintie lodging me assign'd.

Now I in you without a bodie move,          Rising and falling with your wings:

We both together sweetly live and love,          Yet say sometimes,

God help poore Kings.

Comfort,

I'll die; for if you poste from me,          Sure I shall do so and much more:

But if I travell in your companie,          You know the way to heaven's doore.