in a mirtle shade

  [To a lovely mirtle bound
  Blossoms show'ring all around del.]
2  O, how sick & weary I
  Underneath my mirtle lie,
  Like to dung upon the ground
  Underneath my mirtle bound.

1  Why should I be bound to thee
  O my lovely mirtle tree?
  Love, free love, cannot be bound
  To any tree that grows on ground.

3  Oft my mirtle sigh'd in vain
  To behold my heavy chain
  Oft [the priest beheld del.] my father saw us sigh,
  And laugh'd at our simplicity.

  So I smote him & his gore
  Stain'd the roots my mirtle bore.
  But the time of youth is fled,
  And grey hairs are on my head.