Who first accesse deny'd me, will obey,
With feare what love commands: Yet censure me
As guilty of the blackest sorcery.
But after to my wishes milder prove:
When they know this the miracle of love.
To Castara.
Of Love.
How fancie mockes me? By th' effect I prove,
'Twas am'rous folly, wings ascrib'd to love,
And ore th' obedient elements command.