To Castara, Upon a Sigh
To CASTARA,
Upon a sigh.
I heard a sigh, and something in my eare
Did whisper, what my soule before did feare.
That it was breath'd by thee. May th' easie Spring
Enricht with odours, wanton on the wing
Of th' Easterne wind, may ne're his beauty fade,
If he the treasure of this breath convey'd;
'Twas thine by 'th musicke which th' harmonious breath
Of Swans is like, propheticke in their death:
And th' odour, for as it the nard expires,
Perfuming Phœnix-like his funerall fires.
The winds of Paradice send such a gale,
To make the Lovers vessels calmely saile
To his lov'd Port. This shall, where it inspires,
Increase the chaste, extinguish unchaste fires.
To CASTARA,
Upon a sigh.
I heard a sigh, and something in my eare
Did whisper, what my soule before did feare.
That it was breath'd by thee. May th' easie Spring
Enricht with odours, wanton on the wing
Of th' Easterne wind, may ne're his beauty fade,
If he the treasure of this breath convey'd;
'Twas thine by 'th musicke which th' harmonious breath
Of Swans is like, propheticke in their death:
And th' odour, for as it the nard expires,
Perfuming Phœnix-like his funerall fires.
The winds of Paradice send such a gale,
To make the Lovers vessels calmely saile
To his lov'd Port. This shall, where it inspires,
Increase the chaste, extinguish unchaste fires.
Upon a sigh.
I heard a sigh, and something in my eare
Did whisper, what my soule before did feare.
That it was breath'd by thee. May th' easie Spring
Enricht with odours, wanton on the wing
Of th' Easterne wind, may ne're his beauty fade,
If he the treasure of this breath convey'd;
'Twas thine by 'th musicke which th' harmonious breath
Of Swans is like, propheticke in their death:
And th' odour, for as it the nard expires,
Perfuming Phœnix-like his funerall fires.
The winds of Paradice send such a gale,
To make the Lovers vessels calmely saile
To his lov'd Port. This shall, where it inspires,
Increase the chaste, extinguish unchaste fires.
To CASTARA,
Upon a sigh.
I heard a sigh, and something in my eare
Did whisper, what my soule before did feare.
That it was breath'd by thee. May th' easie Spring
Enricht with odours, wanton on the wing
Of th' Easterne wind, may ne're his beauty fade,
If he the treasure of this breath convey'd;
'Twas thine by 'th musicke which th' harmonious breath
Of Swans is like, propheticke in their death:
And th' odour, for as it the nard expires,
Perfuming Phœnix-like his funerall fires.
The winds of Paradice send such a gale,
To make the Lovers vessels calmely saile
To his lov'd Port. This shall, where it inspires,
Increase the chaste, extinguish unchaste fires.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.