I

THE TIME OF THE MARRIAGE

T H O U are repriv'd old yeare, thou shalt not die,
Though thou upon thy death bed lye,
        And should'st within five dayes expire,
Yet thou art rescu'd by a mightier fire,
        Than thy old Soule, the Sunne,
When he doth in his largest circle runne.
The passage of the West or East would thaw,
And open wide their easie liquid jawe
To all our ships, could a Promethean art
Either unto the Northerne Pole impart
The fire of these inflaming eyes, or of this loving heart.

                                        II

EQUALITY OF PERSONS

B U T undiscerning Muse, which heart, which eyes,
          In this new couple, dost thou prize,
          When his eye as inflaming is
As hers, and her heart loves as well as his?
          Be tryed by beauty, and then
The bridegroome is a maid, and not a man.
If by that manly courage they be tryed,
Which scornes unjust opinion; then the bride
Becomes a man. Should chance or envies Art
Divide these two, whom nature scarce did part?
Since both have both th'enflaming eyes, and both the loving heart.

                                        III

RAISING OF THE BRIDEGROOME

T H O U G H it be some divorce to thinke of you
          Singly, so much one are you two,
          Yet let me here contemplate thee,
First cheerfull Bridegroome, and first let mee see,
          How thou prevent'st the Sunne,
And his red foming horses dost outrunne,
How, having laid downe in thy Soveraignes brest
All businesses, from thence to reinvest
Them, when these triumphs cease, thou forward art
To shew to her, who doth the like impart,
The fire of thy inflaming eyes, and of thy loving heart.

                                        IIII

RAISING OF THE BRIDE

B U T now, to Thee, faire Bride, it is some wrong,
          To thinke thou wert in Bed so long,
          Since Soone thou lyest downe first, tis fit
Thou in first rising should'st allow for it.
          Ponder thy Radiant haire,
Which if without such ashes thou would'st weare,
Thou, which to all which come to looke upon,
Art meant for Phoebus, would'st be Phaëton.
For our ease, give thine eyes th'unusual part
Of joy, a Teare; so quencht, thou maist impart,
To us that come, thy inflaming eyes, to him, thy loving heart.

                                        V

HER APPARRELLING

T H U S thou descend'st to our infirmitie,
          Who can the Sun in water see.
          Soe dost thou, when in silke and gold,
Thou cloudst thy selfe; since wee which doe behold,
          Are dust, and wormes, 'tis just
Our objects be the fruits of wormes and dust;
Let every Jewell be a glorious starre,
Yet starres are not so pure, as their spheares are.
And though thou stoope, to'appeare to us in part,
Still in that Picture thou intirely art,
Which thy inflaming eyes have made within his loving heart.

                                        VI

GOING TO THE CHAPPELL

N O W from your Easts you issue forth, and wee,
          As men which through a Cipres see
          The rising sun, doe thinke it two,
Soe, as you goe to Church, doe thinke of you,
          But that vaile being gone,
By the Church rites you are from thenceforth one.
The Church Triumphant made this match before,
And now the Militant doth strive no more;
Then, reverend Priest, who Gods Recorder art,
Doe, from his Dictates, to these two impart
All blessings, which are seene, or thought, by Angels eye or heart.

                                        VII

THE BENEDICTION

B L E S T payre of Swans, Oh may you interbring
          Daily new joyes, and never sing;
          Live, till all grounds of wishes faile,
Till honor, yea till wisedome grow so stale,
          That, new great heights to trie,
It must serve your ambition, to die;
Raise heires, and may here, to the worlds end, live
Heires from this King, to take thankes, you, to give,
Nature and grace doe all, and nothing Art.
May never age, or error overthwart
With any West, these radiant eyes, with any North, this heart.

                                        VIII

FEASTS AND REVELLS

B U T you are over-blest. Plenty this day
          Injures; it causeth time to stay;
          The tables groane, as though this feast
Would, as the flood, destroy all fowle and beast.
            And were the doctrine new
That the earth mov'd, this day would make it true;
For every part to dance and revell goes.
They tread the ayre, and fal not where they rose.
Though six houres since, the Sunne to bed did part,
The masks and banquets will not yet impart
A sunset to these weary eyes, A Center to this heart.

                                        IX

THE BRIDES GOING TO BED

W H A T mean'st thou Bride, this companie to keep?
          To sit up, till thou faine wouldst sleep?
          Thou maist not, when thou art laid, doe so.
Thy selfe must to him a new banquet grow,
          And you must entertains
And doe all this daies dances o'er againe.
Know that if Sun and Moone together doe
Rise in one point, they doe not set so too;
Therefore thou maist, faire Bride, to bed depart,
Thou art not gone, being gone; where e'r thou Art,
Thou leav'st in him thy watchfull eyes, in him thy loving heart.

                                        X

THE BRIDEGROOMES COMMING

A S he that sees a starre fall, runs apace,
          And findes a gellie in the place,
          So doth the Bridegroome haste as much,
Being told this starre is falne, and findes her such.
          And as friends may looke strange,
By a new fashion, or apparrells change,
Their soules, though long acquainted they had beene,
These clothes, their bodies, never yet had seene;
Therefore at first shee modestly might start,
But must forthwith surrender every part,
As freely, as each to each before, gave either eye or heart.

                                        XI

THE GOOD-NIGHT

N O W, as in Tullias tombe, one lampe burnt cleare,
          Unchang'd for fifteene hundred yeare,
          May these love-lamps we here enshrine,
In warmth, light, lasting, equall the divine.
          Fire ever doth aspire,
And makes all like it selfe, turnes all to fire,
But ends in ashes, which these cannot doe,
For none of these is fuell, but fire too.
This is joyes bonfire, then, where loves strong Arts
Make of so noble individuall parts
One fire of foure inflaming eyes, and of two loving hearts.

   Idios
As I have brought this song, that I may doe
          A perfect sacrifice, I'll burne it too.

   Allophanes
No Sir. This paper I have justly got,
    For, in burnt incense, the perfume is not
His only that presents it, but of all;
    What ever celebrates this Festivall
Is common, since the joy thereof is so.
    Nor may your selfe be Priest: But let me goe,
Backe to the Court, and I will lay'it upon
    Such Altars, as prize your devotion.