|
|
I. See!
what an undisturbed teare She weepes for her last
sleepe; But, viewing her, straight wak'd a Star,
She weepes that she did weepe.
II. Griefe
ne're before did tyranize On th' honour of that brow,
And at the wheeles of her brave eyes Was captive led
til now.
III. Thus, for a saints apostacy
The unimagin'd woes And sorrowes of the Hierarchy
None but an angel knowes.
IV. Thus, for lost
soules recovery The clapping of all wings And
triumphs of this victory None but an angel sings.
V. So none but she knows to bemone This equal
virgins fate, None but LUCASTA can her crowne Of
glory celebrate.
VI. Then dart on me (CHAST
LIGHT) one ray, By which I may discry Thy joy
cleare through this cloudy day To dresse my sorrow
by.
|
|
|