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He that loves a rosy cheek, / Or a coral lip admires, …
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Know, Celia, since thou art so proud, / 'Twas I that gave thee thy renown. …
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If the quick spirits in your eye / Now languish and anon must die; …
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Ask me no more where Jove bestows, / When June is past, the fading rose; …
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He that loves a rosy cheek, / Or a coral lip admires, …
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When thou, poor Excommunicate / From all the joys of Love, shalt see …
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Give me more love or more disdain; / The torrid or the frozen zone …
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Sweetly breathing, vernal air, / That with kind warmth doth repair …