His Wife
Thy's dress is short.
And thou will be pleased.
Thy's mind is clear,
and thou will be all but siezed.
To live thy own life,
thou speakst of it true,
thy's handled not with a knife,
if thou only knew.
Thou speaks of her as a wench
and thy mind is all in thought.
Thou doesn't know love's first quench,
because it's him I know thy's caught.
The thought of thou now ills the stomach
and thy's touch sends shivers
and thou always comes back.
Thy tries not to cry many rivers
for thou's one such given slack.
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