Doris, see the am'rous flame

Doris, see the am'rous flame,

How it courts thy noble name,

Beck'ning sometimes with desire

To th'embraces of the fire,

And then gently fans again

The clear story of your pen,

As, not able to withstand

The strict beauty of your hand,

But ambitious to adore,

Rose to kiss and durst no more.

Let not then the senseless flame

My devoter service shame.

Yield as much to my desire

As thou gav'st unto the fire.

Oh, let me view it though it turn

Me to those ashes you would burn.

So shall your hand with my heart have

A willing and a friendly grave.