English poem
A SONG. (CLARINDA's lips I fondly prest)
by John Cunningham (1501–1591)
CLARINDA's lips I fondly prest, While rapture fill'd each vein; And as I touch'd her downy breast, Its tenant slept serene.
So soft a calm, in such a part, Betrays a peaceful mind; Whilst my uneasy flutt'ring heart, Would scarcely be confin'd.
A stubborn oak the shepherd sees, Unmov'd, when storms descend; But ah! to ev'ry sporting breeze, The myrtle bough must bend.
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