And told me that the bottome cleere,
90Now layd with many a fett
Of seed-pearle, ere shee bath'd her there:
Was knowne as blacke as Jet,
As when she from the water came,
Where first she touch'd the molde,
In balls the people made the same
For Pomander, and solde.
When chance me to an Arbour led,
Whereas I might behold:
Two blest Elizeums in one sted,
100The lesse the great enfold.
The place which she had chosen out,
Her selfe in to repose;
Had they com'n downe, the gods no doubt
The very same had chose.
The wealthy Spring yet neuer bore
That sweet, nor dainty flower
That damask'd not, the chequer'd flore
Of Cynthias Summer Bower.
The Birch, the Mirtle, and the Bay,
110Like Friends did all embrace;
And their large branches did display,
To Canapy the place.
Where she like Venvs doth appeare,
Vpon a Rosie bed;
As Lillyes the soft pillowes weare,
Whereon she layd her head.
Heau'n on her shape such cost bestow'd,
And with such bounties blest:
No lim of hers but might haue made
120A Goddesse at the least.
The Flyes by chance mesht in her hayre,
By the bright Radience throwne
From her cleare eyes, rich Iewels weare,
They so like Diamonds shone.
The meanest weede the soyle there bare,
Her breath did so refine,
That it with Woodbynd durst compare,
And beard the Eglantine.