And Phaeton now, neare reaching to his race
With glistring beames, gold-streaming where they bent,
Was prest to enter in his resting place:
Erythius, that in the cart fyrst went,
Had euen now attaynd his iorney’s stent:
And, fast declining, hid away his head,
While Titan coucht him in his purple bed.
7.
And pale Cinthea, with her borrowed light,
Beginning to supply her brother’s place,