I. <br />Thou snowy farme with thy five tenements! <br /> Tell thy white mistris here was one, <br /> That call'd to pay his dayly rents; <br />But she a-gathering flowr's and hearts is gone, <br />And thou left voyd to rude possession. <br /> <br /> II. <br />But grieve not, pretty Ermin cabinet, <br /> Thy alabaster lady will come home; <br /> If not, what tenant can there fit <br />The slender turnings of thy narrow roome, <br />But must ejected be by his owne dombe? <br /> <br /> III. <br />Then give me leave to leave my rent with thee: <br /> Five kisses, one unto a place: <br /> For though the lute's too high for me, <br />Yet servants, knowing minikin nor base, <br />Are still allow'd to fiddle with the case.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ellinda-s-glove-sonnet/
