15. A SONG TO THE MASKERS.
Come down and dance ye in the toil
Of pleasures to a heat;
But if to moisture, let the oil
Of roses be your sweat.
Not only to yourselves assume
These sweets, but let them fly
From this to that, and so perfume
E'en all the standers by;
As goddess Isis, when she went
Or glided through the street,
Made all that touched her, with her scent,
And whom she touched, turn sweet.
16. TO PERENNA.
When I thy parts run o'er, I can't espy
In any one the least indecency;
But every line and limb diffused thence
A fair and unfamiliar excellence:
So that the more I look the more I prove
There's still more cause why I the more should love.
Indecency, uncomeliness.
17. TREASON.
The seeds of treason choke up as they spring:
He acts the crime that gives it cherishing.
