那么，把手指给它们，把嘴唇给我。
How oft when thou， y ic， ic pyst，
Upon that blessed wood whose otion sounds
With thy sweet fgers when thou gently swayst
The wiry nrd that e ear nfounds，
Do I envy those jacks that nible leap，
To kiss the tender ward of thy hand，
Whilst y poor lips which should that harvest reap，
At the woods boldness by thee bshg stand！
To be so tickled， they would ge their state
And situation with those dancg chips，
Oer who thy fgers walk with gentle gait，
Makg dead wood ore blessd than livg lips.
Sce saucy jacks so happy arethis，
Give the thy fgers，thy lips to kiss.