Thou who, to all which come to look upon,
Wert meant for Phoebus, wouldst be Phaeton.
For our ease give thine eyes th' unusual part
Cfjoy, a tear; so quench'd thou may'st impart

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To us that come thy' inflaming eyes, to him thy loving heart.

V. HER APPARELLING.

THUS thou descend'st to our infirmity,

Who can the sun in water see;

So dost thou when in silk and gold

Thou cloud'st thyself; since we which do behold,

Are dust and worms 'tis just

Our objects be the fruits of worms and dust.
Let ev'ry jewel be a glorious star,

Yet stars are not so pure as their spheres are;
And tho' thou stoop t' appear to us in part,
Still in that picture thou intirely art,

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Which thy inflaming eyes have made within his loving

heart.

VI. GOING TO THE CHAPEL.

Now from your east you issue forth, and we,

As men which thro' a cypress see

The rising sun, do think it two;

So as you go to church do think of you:

But that veil being gone,

By the church rites you are from thenceforth one.

The church triumphant made this match before,
And now the militant doth strive no more.

Then, reverend Priest! who God's recorder art,
Do from his dictates to these two impart

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All blessings which are seen, or thought, by angels' eye or heart.

VII. THE BENEDICTION.

BLEST pair of Swans 1 oh! may you interbring

Daily new joys, and never sing:

Live till all grounds of wishes fail,

Till honour, yea, till wisdom, grow so stale,

That new great heights to try,

It must serve your ambition to die,

Raise heirs, and may here to the world's end live 180 Heirs from this king to take thanks, you to give.

Nature and grace do all, and nothing art.

May never age or error overthwart

[heart.

With any west these radiant eyes, with any north this

VIII. FEASTS AND REVELS.

BUT you are over-blest: plenty this day

Injures; it causeth time to stay:

The tables groan, as tho' this feast

Would, as the flood, destroy all fowl and beast.

And were the doctrine new

That the earth mov'd, this day would make it true;

For ev'ry part to dance and revel goes ;

They tread the air, and fall not where they rose.
Tho' six hours since the sun to bed did part,

The masks and banquets will not yet impart

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A sunset to these weary eyes, a center to this heart.

IX. THE BRIDE'S GOING TO BED.

WHAT mean'st thou, Bride! this company to keep? To sit up till thou fain would sleep?

Thou may'st not when thou 'rt laid do so:
Thyself must to him a new banquet grow,
And you must entertain,

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And do all this day's dances o'er again,"
Know, that if sun and moon together do
Rise in one point, they do not set so too:
Therefore thou may'st, fair Bride! to bed depart;
Thou art not gone being gone; where'er thou art
Thou leav'st in him thy watchful eyes, in him thy
loving heart.

X. THE BRIDEGROOM'S COMING.

As he that sees a star fall runs a pace,

And finds a jelly in the place;

So doth the bridegroom haste as much,

Being told this star is fall'n, and finds her such.

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And as friends may look strange

By a new fashion or apparel's change,

Their souls, tho' long acquainted they had been,
These clothes their bodies never yet had seen;
Therefore at first she modestly might start,
But must forthwith surrender every part"

[heart.

As freely as each to each before gave either hand or

XI. THE GOOD-NIGHT.

Now, as in Thulia's tomb one lamp burnt clear, Unchang'd for fifteen hundred year,

May these love-lamps we here enshrine

In warmth, light, lasting, equal the divine!
Fire ever doth aspire,

And makes all like itself, turns all to fire,
But ends in ashes; which these cannot do,

For none of these is fuel, but fire too.

This is joy's bonfire then, where love's strong arts
Make of so noble individual parts,

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[hearts. One fire of four inflaming eyes and of two loving IDIOS. As I have brought this song, that I may do

A perfect sacrifice, I'll burn it too.

ALLOPH. No, Sir, this paper I have justly got,

For in burnt incense the perfume is not

His only that presents it, but of all.

Whatever celebrates this festival

Is common, since the joy thereof is so
Nor may yourself be priest: but let me go
Back to the court, and I will lay 't upon

Such altars as prize your devotion

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HOLY SONNETS,

1.

Thou hast made me, and shall thy work decay?
Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste;
I run to death, and death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday.
I dare not move my dim eyes any way;
Despair behind, and death before doth cast
Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste
By sin in it, which it t'wards hell doth weigh.
Only thou art above, and when t'wards thee
By thy leave I can look, I rise again;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,
That not one hour myself I can sustain:
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art,
And thou, like adamant, draw mine iron heart.

II.

As due by many titles, I resign

Myself to thee, O God! First I was made

By thee; and for thee; and when I was decay'd
Thy blood bought that, the which before was thine.
I am thy son, made with thyself to shine,

Thy servant, whose pains thou hast still repay'd,
Thy sheep, thine image; and, till I betray'd
Myself, a temple of thy Spirit divine.

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