And my Castara's; Loves unruly flood
Breakes in, and beares away what ever stands,
Built by my busie fancy on the sands.
To Castara,
Upon an embrace.
'Bout th' Husband Oke, the Vine
Thus wreathes to kisse his leavy face:
Their streames thus Rivers joyne,
And lose themselves in the embrace.
But Trees want sence when they infold,