XXI.
O thou, thy Lord's fair store!
In thy so rich and rare expenses,
Euen when He show'd most poor
He might prouoke the wealth of princes.
What prince's wanton'st pride e'er could125
Wash with syluer, wipe with gold?
XXII.
Who is that King, but He
Who calls 't His crown, to be call'd thine,
That thus can boast to be
Waited on by a wandring mine,130
A voluntary mint, that strowes
Warm, syluer showres wher're He goes?
XXIII.
O pretious prodigall!
Fair spend-thrift of thy-self! thy measure
(Mercilesse loue!) is all.135
thesaurus, Latin. Euen to the last pearle in thy threasure:
All places, times, and obiects be
Thy teares' sweet opportunity.
XXIV.
Does the day-starre rise?
Still thy teares doe fall and fall.140
Does Day close his eyes?
Still the fountain weeps for all.
Let Night or Day doe what they will,
Thou hast thy task: thou weepest still.