I. <br />Comanding asker, if it be <br /> Pity that you faine would have, <br />Then I turne begger unto thee, <br /> And aske the thing that thou dost crave. <br />I will suffice thy hungry need, <br />So thou wilt but my fancy feed. <br /> <br /> II. <br />In all ill yeares, was ever knowne <br /> On so much beauty such a dearth? <br />Which, in that thrice-bequeathed gowne, <br /> Lookes like the Sun eclipst with Earth, <br />Like gold in canvas, or with dirt <br />Unsoyled Ermins close begirt. <br /> <br /> III. <br />Yet happy he, that can but tast <br /> This whiter skin, who thirsty is! <br />Fooles dote on sattin motions lac'd: <br /> The gods go naked in their blisse. <br />At th' barrell's head there shines the vine, <br />There only relishes the wine. <br /> <br /> IV. <br />There quench my heat, and thou shalt sup <br /> Worthy the lips that it must touch, <br />Nectar from out the starry cup: <br /> I beg thy breath not halfe so much. <br />So both our wants supplied shall be, <br />You'l give for love, I, charity. <br /> <br /> V. <br />Cheape then are pearle-imbroderies, <br /> That not adorne, but cloud thy wast; <br />Thou shalt be cloath'd above all prise, <br /> If thou wilt promise me imbrac't. <br />Wee'l ransack neither chest nor shelfe: <br />Ill cover thee with mine owne selfe. <br /> <br /> VI. <br />But, cruel, if thou dost deny <br /> This necessary almes to me, <br />What soft-soul'd man but with his eye <br /> And hand will hence be shut to thee? <br />Since all must judge you more unkinde: <br />I starve your body, you, my minde.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-faire-begger/
