I'm wedded o're again since thou art gone;

Nor couldst thou, cruell, leaue me quite alone.

Alexis' widdow now is Sorrow's wife,

5

With him shall I weep out my weary life.

Wellcome, my sad-sweet mate! Now haue I gott

At last a constant Loue, that leaues me not:

Firm he, as thou art false; nor need my cryes

Thus vex the Earth and teare the beauteous skyes. 10

For him, alas! n'ere shall I need to be

Troublesom to the world thus as for thee:
For thee I talk to trees; with silent groues
Expostulate my woes and much-wrong'd loues;
Hills and relentlesse rockes, or if there be
Things that in hardnesse more allude to thee,
To these I talk in teares, and tell my pain,
And answer too for them in teares again.
How oft haue I wept out the weary sun!

15

My watry hour-glasse hath old Time's outrunne.

20

O I am learned grown: poor Loue and I

Haue study'd ouer all Astrology;

I'm perfect in Heaun's state; with euery starr
My skillfull greife is grown familiar.

25

Rise, fairest of those fires; what'ere thou be
Whose rosy beam shall point my sun to me.
Such as the sacred light that e'rst did bring
The Eastern princes to their infant King,
O rise, pure lamp! and lend thy golden ray
That weary Loue at last may find his way.

VOL. I.

30

NN

Loue's truest knott by Venus is not ty'd,
Nor doe embraces onely make a bride.

The queen of angels (and men chast as you)

Was maiden-wife and maiden-mother too.

30

Cecilia, glory of her name and blood,

With happy gain her maiden-vowes made good:

The lusty bridegroom made approach; young man
Take heed (said she) take heed, Valerian!
My bosome's guard, a spirit great and strong,
Stands arm'd, to sheild me from all wanton wrong;
My chastity is sacred; and my Sleep
Wakefull, her dear vowes vndefil'd to keep.

Pallas beares armes, forsooth; and should there be
No fortresse built for true Virginity?

No gaping Gorgon, this: none, like the rest

Of your learn'd lyes. Here you'll find no such iest.

35

40

I'm your's: O were my God, my Christ so too,

I'd know no name of Loue on Earth but you.

He yeilds, and straight baptis'd, obtains the grace

45

To gaze on the fair souldier's glorious face.
Both mixt at last their blood in one rich bed

Of rosy martyrdome, twice married.

O burn our Hymen bright in such high flame,
Thy torch, terrestriall Loue, haue here no name.
How sweet the mutuall yoke of man and wife,
When holy fires maintain Loue's heaunly life!
But I (so help me Heaun my hopes to see)

50

When thousands sought my loue, lou'd none but thee.

Secular Poetry.

II.

AIRELLES.