12
Whose modest mirth express'd alluring grace Whose absence makes us lacke our light allace.
50 The Court as garland lackes the cheefest floure The Court a chatton toome that lackes her stone The Court is like a volier at this houre Wherout of is her sweetest Sirene gone. Then shall we lacke our cheefest onlie one ?
55 No, pull not from us cruell cloude I praye Our light, our rose, our gemme, our bird awaye.
Bot houpe beginnes to hoise me on her wings Even houpe that presence absence shall amend. Bot what my Muse, how pertlie thus thou sings 60 Who rather ought Solsequium like attend With luckried leaves till wearie night take end. Haste golden Titan thy so long'd returne To cleare the skies where now we darckned murne.
[XVII]
A DREAME ON HIS MISTRIS MY LADIE GLAMMES
Whill as the silent shaddie night
Did with her courtens blacke Ou'rcover Rheas fruictfull face
And being colde and wacke S By sympathie with mortall braines
Our members make of leade And stealing all bur senses make
Us lye awhile as deade. Then whill I was in this estate 10 The God with golden wings,
Who entring at the ports of home
So manie monstres brings, And changing into sundrie shapes
By strange and subtle slight, 15 Does make us heare without our eares
