IV.
Like the dark front of some Ethiopian queen,
Vailed all ore with gems of red, blew, green,
Whose ugly night seem'd masked with days skreen.
V.
Whilst the fond people offer'd sacrifice
To saphyrs, 'stead of veins and arteries,
And bow'd unto the diamonds, not her eyes.
VI.
Behold LUCASTA'S face, how't glows like noon!
A sun intire is her complexion,
And form'd of one whole constellation.
VII.
So gently shining, so serene, so cleer,
Her look doth universal Nature cheer;
Only a cloud or two hangs here and there.
TO LUCASTA.
I.
I laugh and sing, but cannot tell
Whether the folly on't sounds well;
But then I groan,
Methinks, in tune;
Whilst grief, despair and fear dance to the air
Of my despised prayer.
II.
A pretty antick love does this,
Then strikes a galliard with a kiss;
As in the end
The chords they rend;
So you but with a touch from your fair hand
Turn all to saraband.
TO LUCASTA.
I.
Like to the sent'nel stars, I watch all night;
For still the grand round of your light
And glorious breast
Awake<66.1> in me an east:
Nor will my rolling eyes ere know a west.
II.
Now on my down I'm toss'd as on a wave,
And my repose is made my grave;
Fluttering I lye,
Do beat my self and dye,
But for a resurrection from your eye.