Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/270

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That golden shower in which he did repose—
      One dewy drop it stains
      Which thy Aurora rains
      Upon the rural plains,
When from thy bed she passionately goes.

Then, waken'd with the music of the merles,
  She not remembers Memnon when she mourns:
  That faithful flame which in her bosom burns
From crystal conduits throws those liquid pearls:
  Sad from thy sight so soon to be removed,
      She so her grief delates.
      —O favour'd by the fates
      Above the happiest states,
Who art of one so worthy well-beloved!



PHINEAS FLETCHER

1580-1650


222. A Litany

Drop, drop, slow tears,
  And bathe those beauteous feet
Which brought from Heaven
  The news and Prince of Peace:
Cease not, wet eyes,
  His mercy to entreat;
To cry for vengeance
  Sin doth never cease.
In your deep floods
  Drown all my faults and fears;
Nor let His eye
  See sin, but through my tears.