Brightest ith' dark. Like which could th' Indian find,
But one among his rocks, he would out vie
In brightnesse all the Diamonds of the Skie.
But when her lips did ope, the Phœnix nest
Breath'd forth her odours; where might Jove once feast,
Hee'd loath his heavenly surfets: if we dare
Affirme, Jove hath a heaven without my faire.
To Castara,
Of the chastity of his Love.
Why would you blush Castara, when the name