A Spring without him, fall, since uselesse, blinde.
Upon a visit to Castara in the Night.
T'was Night: when Phœbe guided by thy rayes,
Chaste as my zeale, with incence of her praise,
I humbly crept to my Castara's shrine.
But oh my fond mistake! for there did shine
A noone of beauty, with such lustre crown'd,
As shewd 'mong th' impious onely night is found.
It was her eyes which like two Diamonds shin'd,