My mistress’ eye is like a currant spun;
Though she has issues,she is now divine
Her bosom is bared and bold  in  midday sun.
I hope that what is hers is also mine?

My mistress’ eye looks clear as it is glass
She lost her marbles playing with a fox
She’s good at letting ferrets rustle past
And feeding mice as well as darning socks.

My mistress dear, I gaze upon her breast.
I see her skin is warm and she does sweat.
I, too, have lusted and I have confessed
But still she grumbles  though she places bets.

In truth I am as fickle as a weed,

But each must act according to their need