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HAT I so slenderly set forth my mind,

TW

Writing I wot not what in ragged rhymes, And charged with brass into these golden times,

When others tower so high, am left behind;

I crave not Phœbus leave his sacred cell

To bind my brows with fresh Aonian bays;
Let them have that who tuning sweetest lays
By Tempe sit, or Aganippe's well;

Nor yet to Venus' tree do I aspire,

Sith she for whom I might affect that praise
My best attempts with cruel words gainsays,
And I seek not that others me admire.
Of weeping myrrh the crown is which I crave,
With a sad cypress to adorn my grave.

AS, in a dusky and tempestuous night,

A star is wont to spread her locks of gold, And while her pleasant rays abroad are roll'd, Some spiteful cloud doth rob us of her sight; Fair soul, in this black age so shined thou bright, And made all eyes with wonder thee behold, Till ugly Death, depriving us of light,

In his grim misty arms thee did enfold.

Who more shall vaunt true beauty here to see?
What hope doth more in any heart remain,
That such perfections shall his reason reign,
If beauty, with thee born, too died with thee?
World, plain no more of Love, nor count his harms;
With his pale trophies Death hath hung his arms.

HESE eyes, dear Lord, once tapers of desire,

TH

Frail scouts, betraying what they had to keep,
Which their own heart, then others set on fire,
Their trait'rous black before thee here out-weep;
These locks, of blushing deeds the gilt attire,
Waves curling, wrackful shelves to shadow deep,
Rings wedding souls to sin's lethargic sleep,
To touch thy sacred feet do now aspire.
In seas of care behold a sinking bark,
By winds of sharp remorse unto thee driven,
O, let me not be ruin's aimed-at mark!

My faults confess'd, Lord, say they are forgiven.
Thus sigh'd to Jesus the Bethanian fair,
His tear-wet feet still drying with her hair.

TO CASTARA

L

ET the chaste Phoenix from the flowery East,

Bring the sweet treasure of her perfumed nest,
As incense to this Altar, where the name

Of my Castara's graved by the hand of fame.
Let purer Virgins, to redeem the air

From loose infection, bring their zealous prayer,
To assist at this great feast: where they shall see,
What rites Love offers up to Chastity.

Let all the amorous Youth, whose fair desire

Felt never warmth, but from a noble fire,

Bring hither their bright flames: which here shall shine

As Tapers fixt about Castara's shrine.

While I the Priest, my untamed heart surprise,
And in this Temple make't her sacrifice.

TO CASTARA

WHA

THAT should we fear, Castara? The cool air, That's fall'n in love, and wanton in thy hair, Will not betray our whispers. Should I steal

A nectar'd kiss, the wind dares not reveal
The pleasure I possess. The wind conspires
To our blest interview, and in our fires
Bathes like a Salamander, and doth sip,

Like Bacchus from the grape, life from thy lip.
Nor think of night's approach. The world's great eye
Though breaking Nature's law, will us supply
With his still flaming lamp: and to obey
Our chaste desires, fix here perpetual day.
But should he set, what rebel night dares rise,
To be subdued i' the victory of thy eyes?

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