Since thou dost this day in new glory shi
May all men date records from this
Valentine.

IV.

Come forth, come forth, and as one glorious
Meeting another, grows the same,

So meet thy Frederick, and so
To an inseparable union go;

Since separation

Falls not on such things as are infinite, Nor things, which are but one, can disunite, You're twice inseparable, great, and one. Go then to where the bishop stays, To make you one, his way, which divers way Must be effected; and when all is past, And that ye are one, by hearts and hands made You two have one way left yourselves to entw Besides this bishop's knot, O Bishop Valentin

V.

But oh! what ails the sun, that here he stays Longer to-day than other days?

Stays he new light from these to get? And finding here such stores, is loath to set? And why do you two walk

So slowly paced in this procession?

Is all your care but to be looked upon.
And be to others spectacle and talk?

* Var. thy.

The feast with gluttonous delays

Is eaten, and too long their meat they praise; The masquers come late, and I think will stay, Like fairies, till the cock crow them away. Alas! did not antiquity assign

A night, as well as day, to thee, O Valentine?

VI.

They did, and night is come: and yet we see Formalities retarding thee.

What mean these ladies, which (as though They were to take a clock in pieces) go So nicely about the bride?

A bride, before a good-night could be said, Should vanish from her clothes into her bed, As souls from bodies steal, and are not spied.

But now she is laid: what though she be? Yet there are more delays; for where is he? He comes, and passes through sphere after sphere;

First her sheets, then her arms, then anywhere. Let not this day, then, but this night be thine, Thy day was but the eve to this, O Valentine.

VII.

Here lies a she sun, and a he moon there;
She gives the best light to his sphere.
Or each is both, and all, and so

They unto one another nothing owe;

And yet they do, but are

So just and rich in that coin which they pay,
That neither would, nor needs, forbear nor stay;
Neither desires to be spared, nor to spare:

They quickly pay their debt, and then
Take no acquittances, but pay again;
They pay, they give, they lend, and so let fall
No such occasion to be liberal.

More truth, more courage in these two do shine, Than all thy turtles have and sparrows, Valentine.

VIII.

And by this act of these two phoenixes
Nature again restored is;

For since these two are two no more,
There's but one phoenix still, as was before.
Rest now at last, and we

(As Satyrs watch the sun's uprise) will stay
Waiting when your eyes opened let out day,
Only desired, because your face we see;

Others near you shall whispering speak,
And wagers lay, at which side day will break,
And win by observing then whose hand it is,
That opens first a curtain, hers or his;
This will be tried to-morrow after nine,

Till which hour we thy day enlarge, O Valentine.

ECLOGUE.

DECEMBER 26, 1613.

Allophanes finding Idios in the Country in Christmas time, reprehends his absence from Court, at the Marriage of the Earl of Somerset; Idios gives an account of his purpose therein, and of his actions there.

ALLOPHANES.

UNSEASONABLE man, statue of ice

What could to country's solitude entice
Thee, in this year's cold and decrepit time?
Nature's instinct draws to the warmer clime ·
Ev'n smaller birds, who by that courage dare
In numerous fleets sail through their sea, the air.
What delicacy can in fields appear,

Whilst Flora herself doth a frieze jerkin wear?
Whilst winds do all the trees and hedges strip
Of leaves, to furnish rods enough to whip
Thy madness from thee, and all springs by frost
Have taken cold, and their sweet murmurs lost?
If thou thy faults or fortunes would'st lament
With just solemnity, do it in Lent:

At court the spring already advanced is,
The sun stays longer up; and yet not his

The glory is; far other, other fires :
First zeal to prince and state; then love's desires
Burn in one breast, and like heaven's two great
lights,

The first doth govern days, the other nights.
And then that early light, which did appear
Before the sun and moon created were,
The prince's favor, is diffused o'er all,
From which all fortunes, names, and natures fall;
Then from those wombs of stars, the bride's
bright eyes,

At every glance a constellation flies,
And sows the court with stars, and doth prevent
In light and power the all-eyed firmament.
First her eyes kindle other ladies' eyes,
Then from their beams their jewels' lustres rise,
And from their jewels torches do take fire;
And all is warmth and light and good desire.
Most other courts, alas! are like to hell.
Where in dark plots fire without light doth dwell:
Or but like stoves, for lust and envy get
Continual but artificial heat;

Here zeal and love, grown one, all clouds digest,
And make our court an everlasting east.
And canst thou be from thence?

IDIOS.

No, I am there

As heaven, to men disposed, is ev'ry where,
So are those courts, whose princes animate,
Not only all their house, but all their state.