Amon 'Bove Of he Yet fele With th For Beaut Oft-times, that Soon as the Morning left She, by her friends and no Like ot IV. Her hair was brighter than the beams which are It did tranfcend Arabian odours får, 20 Or fmelling flow'rs, wherewith the Spring does greet Approaching Summer; teeth like falling fnow For white, were placed in a double row. V. Her wit excelling praise, ev'n all admire; The maiden-lilies at her fight Wax'd pale with envy,and from thence grew VI. She was in birth and parentage as high, VII. 25 white. 30 A fcornful boy, Adonis, viewing her, 35 40 VIII. Among her many fuitors a young knight, With that bless'd object, or her rareness see; IX. Oft-times, that he might fee his dearest fair, Rides by her house, who neighs, as if he were X. Soon as the Morning left her rofy bed, And all heav'n's fmaller lights were driv'n away, ! To behold cheeks more beauteous than her own. 60 XI. Th' obfequious lover follows still her train, 65 XII. Philetus he was call'd, fprung from a race But blinded Love could no fuch diff'rence fee. XIII. Yet he by chance had hit this heart aright, Unto Love's altar therefore he repairs, Entreating Cupid, with inducing pray'rs, Where having pray'd, recov'ring breath again, XV. "Oh! mighty Cupid! whose unbounded sway "Hath often rul'd th' Olympian Thunderer, "Whom all celestial deities obey, 70 75 80. 85 "Whom men and gods both reverence and fear! "Oh! force Conftantia's heart to yield to love; "Of all thy works the masterpiece 'twill prove. 90 XVI. "And let me not affection vainly spend, "But kindle flames in her like thofe in me; "Yet if that gift my fortune doth transcend, "Grant that her charming beauty I may fee; "For ever view those eyes, whofe charming light 95 "More than the world befides does please my fight. XVII. "Those who contemn thy facred deity, 66 Laugh at thy pow'r, make them thine anger know; "I faultless am; what honour can it be "Only to wound your flave, and fpare your foe?" ICO Here tears and sighs speak his imperfect moan, In language far more moving than his own. XVIII. Home he retir'd; his foul he brought not home; Thinking her love he never shall obtain, One morn he haunts the woods, and doth complain Of his unhappy fate; but all in vain ; And thus fond Echo answers him again. III |