Nymph of the gard’n, where all beauties be:
Beauties which do in excellency pass,
His who till death lookt in a wat’ry glass,
Or her whom naked the Trojan boy did see.
Sweet gard’n nymph, which keeps the cherry tree,
Whose fruit doth far th’Esperian taste surpass:
Most sweet-fair, most fair-sweet, do not alas,
From coming near those cherries banish me:
For though full of desire, empty of wit,
Admitted late by your best-graced grace,
I caught at one of them a hungry bit;
Pardon that fault, once more grand me the place,
And I do swear even by the same delight,
I will but kiss, I never more will bite.