1602-1645
Chloris in the Snow
I SAW fair Chloris walk alone,
When feather’d rain came softly down,
As Jove descending from his Tower
To court her in a silver shower:
The wanton snow flew to her breast,
Like pretty birds into their nest,
But, overcome with whiteness there,
For grief it thaw’d into a tear:
Thence falling on her garments’ hem,
To deck her, froze into a gem.
THOMAS STANLEY
1625-1678
The Relapse
TURN away those cruel eyes,
The stars of my undoing!
Or death, in such a bright disguise,
May tempt a second wooing.
Punish their blind and impious pride,
Who dare contemn thy glory;
It was my fall that deified
Thy name, and seal’d thy story.