Church-Musick

Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure
Did through my bodie wound my minde,
You took me thence; and in your house of pleasure
A daintie lodging me assign'd.
Now I in you without a bodie move,
Rising and falling with your wings:
We both together sweetly live and love,
Yet say sometimes, God help poore Kings.
Comfort, I'll die; for if you poste from me,
Sure I shall do so and much more:
But if I travell in your companie,
You know the way to heaven's doore.