Of vulgar starres, who lend their weaker fire
To conquer the nights chilnesse, with their Queene,
In harmelesse revels tread the happy greene.
But I who am proscrib'd by tyrant love,
Seeke out a silent exile in some grove,
Where nought except a solitary Spring,
Was ever heard, to which the Nimphs did sing
Narcissus obsequies: For onely there
Is musique apt to catch an am'rous eare.
Castara! oh my heart! How great a flame