A Twintorette

Ho! my little maiden With the glossy tresses, Come thou and dance with me A measure all divine; Let my breast be laden With but thy caresses— Come thou and glancingly Mate thy face with mine.

Thou shalt trill a rondel, While my lips are purling Some dainty twitterings Sweeter than the birds’; And, with arms that fondle Each as we go twirling, We will kiss, with titterings, Lisps and loving words.