[Love, Wit and Beauty] revel’d in his Eyes;
From whence he shot a thousand winged Darts
That pierc’d quite through my Soul.
L. Des. Seem’d he a Gentleman?
L. Lam. [A God! altho his outside] were but mean;
But he shone thro like Lightning from a Cloud,
And shot more piercing Rays.
L. Des. Staid he long?
L. Lam. [No, methought he grew] displeas’d with our Devotion,
And seem’d to contradict the Parson with his angry Eyes.