3670The earth her mines, sea vomit shall their pearl,
Ere I leave her, who for me left an earl.'
Then sate they dallying in a shady bow'r,
Where maples, ash, and thorn did them embrace:
Whilst her enliv'ning breath produced each flow'r
In curious knots to damask o'er the place.
Oh! who would not his soul and substance tenter,
To be circumference to such a centre?
Now have our amorists attained the height
Of true content; and sate like billing doves.