Young and simple though I am

Young and simple though I am,

I have heard of Cupid's name;

Guess I can what thing it is

Men desire when they do kiss.

Smoke can never burn they say,

But the flames that follow may.

I am not so fond, so fair,

To be proud, or to despair;

Yet my lips have oft observ'd,

Men that kiss them press too hard,

As glad lovers use to do,

When their new met loves they woo.

Fain 'tis but a foolish mind,

Yet methinks a heat I find,

And thirsty longing that doth bide

Ever on the weaker side:

O I feel my heart doth move,

Venus grant it be not love.

If it be, alas, what then?

Were not women made for men?

As good it were a thing were past,

That must needs be done at last:

Roses that are overblown

Grow less sweet, and fall alone.

Yet no churl or silken gull

Shall my virgin blossom pull:

Who shall not, I soon can tell,

Who shall, would I could as well.

Yet I'm sure what ere he be,

Love he must, or flatter me.