There is a lady sweet and kind
by Thomas Ford
There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.
Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles—
Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
And yet I love her till I die.
Her free behaviour, winning looks,
Will make a lawyer burn his books;
I touched her not—alas, not I—
And yet I love her till I die.
Had I her fast betwixt mine arms,
Judge you that think such sports were harms;
Were’t any harm? no, no—fie, fie—
For I will love her till I die.
Should I remain confined there
So long as Phoebus in his sphere,
I to request, she to deny—
Yet would I love her till I die.
Cupid is winged and doth range;
Her country so my love doth change;
But change the earth or change the sky,
Yet will I love her till I die.