Lots To Be Liked.

Like will to like, each creature loves his kind;
Chaste words proceed still from a bashful mind.

This is the height of justice: that to do
Thyself which thou put'st other men unto.
As great men lead, the meaner follow on,
Or to the good, or evil action.

This lady's short, that mistress she is tall;
But long or short, I'm well content with all.

Why should we covet much, whenas we know
W'ave more to bear our charge than way to go?

I dislik'd but even now;
Now I love I know not how.
Was I idle, and that while
Was I fir'd with a smile?
I'll to work, or pray; and then
I shall quite dislike again.

Whatsoever thing I see,
Rich or poor although it be,
'Tis a mistress unto me.

Be my girl or fair or brown,
Does she smile, or does she frown;
Still I write a sweet-heart down.

Be she rough, or smooth of skin;
When I touch, I then begin
For to let affection in.

Be she bald, or does she wear
Locks incurl'd of other hair;
I shall find enchantment there.

Be she whole, or be she rent,
So my fancy be content,
She's to me most excellent.

Be she fat, or be she lean;
Be she sluttish, be she clean;
I'm a man for every scene.