Of love you heare? Who never felt his flame,
Ith' shade of melancholly night doth stray,
A blind Cymmerian banisht from the day.
Let's chastly love Castara, and not soyle
This Virgin lampe, by powring in the oyle
Of impure thoughts. O let us sympathize,
And onely talke ith' language of our eyes,
Like two starres in conjunction. But beware
Lest th' Angels who of love compacted are,
Viewing how chastly burnes thy zealous fire,