In nimble measures beauty, wit, and love.
Nor thinke Castara (though the sexe be fraile,
And ever like uncertaine vessels saile
On th' ocean of their passions; while each wind
Triumphs to see their more uncertaine mind,)
Can be induc't to alter: Every starre
May in its motion grow irregular;
The Sunne forget to yeeld his welcome flame
To th' teeming earth, yet she remaine the same.
And in my armes (if Poets may divine)