WILLIAM ALEXANDER
That golden shower in which he did repose
One dewy drop it stains
Which thy Aurora rams
Upon the rural plains, When from thy bed bhe passionately goes.
Then, waken 'd with the music of the merles, She not remembers Memnon when she mourns. That faithful flame which in her bo^om burns From crystal conduits throws those liquid pearls. Sad from thy sight so soon to be removed, She bo her grief delates. O favour'd by the fates Above the happiest states,
��PHINEAS FLETCHER 229 A Litany
|ROP, 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.
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