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.