  Ah, my swete swetyng! My lytyle prety swetyng, My swetyng will I love wherever I go; She is so proper and pure, Full stedfast, stabill and demure, There is none such, ye may be sure, As my swete swetyng. In all this world, as thynketh me, Is none so pleasant to my eye, That I am glad soe ofte to see, As my swete swetyng. When I behold my swetyng swete, Her face, her hands, her minion fete, They seme to me there is none so swete, As my swete swetyng. Above all other prayse must I, And love my pretty pygsnye, For none I fynd so womanly As my swete swetyng. |
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