Come, sit thee down by these Cool streams
Never yet warmed by Titans beams!
My tender youth thy waist shall clip,
And fix upon thy cherry lip;
And lay thee down on this green bed,
Where thou shalt lose thy maidenhead.

See how the little Phillip Sparrow,
Whose joints do over-flow with marrow,
On yonder bough how he doth prove
With his mate the joys of love,
And doth instruct thee, as he doth tread,
How thou shalt lose thy maidenhead.

O you younglings, be not nice!
Coyness in maids is such a vice,
That if in youth you do not marry,
In age young men will let you tarry.
By my persuasion then be led,
And lose in time thy maidenhead.

Clothes that embroidered be with gold,
If never worn, will quickly mold;
If in time you do not pluck
The damisine or the Apricot,
In pinching Autumn thee'll be dead;
Then lose in time thy maidenhead!

- Unknown author

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