Her life to your cold lawes: In vain y' engage
Your selfe on me. I will obey my rage.
Shee's gone, and I am lost. Some unknowne grove
I'le finde, whereby the miracle of Love
I'le turne t' a fountaine, and divide the yeere,
By numbring every moment with a teare.
Where if Castara (to avoyd the beames
Oth' neighb'ring Sun) shall wandring meete my streames.
And tasting, hope her thirst alaid shall be,
Shee'le feele a sudden flame, and burne like me: