Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/85

The eye of heaven is out, and misty night
Covers the shame that follows sweet delight.

This said, his guilty hand pluckt up the latch,
And with his knee the door he opens wide,
The dove sleeps fast that this night-owle will catch,
Thus treason works e're traitors be espied:
Who sees the lurking serpent steps aside;
But she, sound sleeping, fearing no such thing,
Lies at the mercy of his mortal sting.

Into the Chamber wickedly he stalks,
And gazeth on her yet unstained bed:
The curtains being close, about he walks,
Rouling his greedy eye-bals in his head,
By their high treason is his heart misled:
Which gives the watch-word to his hand too soon,
To draw the cloud that hides the silver Moon.

Looke as the fair and fiery-pointed Sun,
Rushing from forth a cloud, bereaves our sight:
Even so the curtain drawn, his eyes begun
To wink, being blinded, with a greater light.
Whether it is that she reflects so bright
That dazleth them, or else some shame supposed,
But blind they are, and keep themselves inclosed.

O had they in that darksome prison died,
Then had they seen the period of their ill;
Then Colatine again by Lucrece side,

In