The tribute of her vowes; oth' sudden shee
Two violets sprouting from the tombe will see:
And cry out, ye sweet emblems of their zeale
Who live below, sprang ye up to reveale
The story of our future joyes, how we
The faithfull patterns of their love shall be?
If not; hang downe your heads opprest with dew,
And I will weepe and wither hence with you.
To Castara,
Of what we were before our creation.
