My mistress’ eye is like a currant bun

Though she has problems,she is  quite divine

Her bosom is bared,bold out in the sun.

I hope that  what his hers is also mine?

My mistress eye looks fine as it is glass

She lost her marbles playing with a fox

She's good at letting errors whistle past

And mending fuses in that little box.

My mistress dear I gaze upon that breast.

I see her skin is warm and she does sweat.

I too have lusted and I have confessed

But still she gambles and she places bets.

In truth I am as fickle as a weed

but each must act according to his need