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- And see but eyes of light.
This strange and subtle God, I saye
- Of late appear'd to me,
And by the hand my Mistres ledd,
- Loe here she is quoth he, 20
Whose presence breeds as manie joyes
- As absence breeds thee woes[1]
Loe here the harbour of thy hart
- Loe here thy onlie chose[2]
Loe here she is who makes thee trade[3]25
- The statelie forcked hill,
Whose pleasant grasse beginnes to fade[4]
- So trampled by thee still,
Loe here she is who makes thee drinke
- The christall silver spring 30
Of flying horse and riding foule
- As ancient Poëts sing,
Loe here the subject and the wings
- Of thy high flying verse
That mountes above the flammie vaults 35
- And to the heaven does pearse.
With this me thought she bowed her doune
- And joyned the rubies sine,
(That hides her ivorie rankes and smells
- Of Nectar) unto mine, 40
Sine with her soft and silken hands
- About my necke she layes
A tablet and[5] an Amethyst
- And silent slipps her wayes.
But loe my minde so passion'd was 45
- My hart so sturr'd withall
With joye extreame, as made them soone
- My senses to recall.
And looke how soone from slugglish sleepe
- I perfectlie awooke, 50
Even at the first (ô miracle)