O're which two bright tapers burne,
To give light to the beauteous Urne.
At the first Castara smil'd,
Thinking Cupid her beguil'd,
Onely counterfeiting death.
But when she perceiv'd his breath
Quite expir'd: the mournefull Girle,
To entombe the boy in Pearle,
Wept so long; till pittious Jove,
From the ashes of this Love,