Thus, her sharp wit, her love, her secrecy,
Trooping together, made her wonder why
She should not leave her bed, and to the temple;
Her health, said she, must live; her sex dissemble.
She view'd Leander's place, and wished he were
Turn'd to his place, so his place were Leander.
"Aye me!" said she, "that love's sweet life and sense
Should do it harm! my Love had not gone hence,
Had he been like his place. O blessed place!
Image of constancy! Thus my love's grace
Parts no where, but it leaves something behind
Worth observation: he renowns his kind.
His motion is like Heaven's, orbicular:
For where he once is, he is ever there.
This place was mine; Leander, now 'tis thine,
Thou being myself,—then it is double mine:
Mine, and Leander's mine, Leander's mine.
O, see what wealth it yields me, nay, yields him:
For I am in it, he for me doth swim.
Rich, fruitful love, that doubling self estates
Elixir-like contracts, though separates.
Dear place! I kiss thee, and do welcome thee,
As from Leander ever sent to me."
The End of the Third Sestyad.
