English

The healthfull mind that muses & inhales
The green eyed dews of morning finds his way
To paradise Gods choice selfplanted vales
The dewy breath of flowers the gales that play
Around them like sleep wakeing half the day
Morning luxuriant in green juicey strife


Health to faint love & happiness to life.

O the first days of summer—mornings blush
Is rife with healthy freshness hung with dew
To dip your hand into a wet rose bush
& crop the fairest flower that ever grew

Deign, Sovereign Mistress! to accept a Lay,
No laureate Offering of elaborate art;
But salutation taking its glad way
From deep recesses of a loyal heart.

Queen, Wife and Mother! may All-judging Heaven
Shower with a bounteous hand on Thee and Thine
Felicity that only can be given
On earth to goodness blest by Grace divine.

Lady! devoutly honoured and beloved
Through every realm confided to thy sway;
Mayst thou pursue thy course by God approved,
And He will teach thy People to obey;

Discreet and prudent we that Discord call,
That either profits, or not hurts at all.

To get thine ends, lay bashfulnesse aside;
Who feares to aske, doth teach to be deny'd.

That Prince must govern with a gentle hand,
Who will have love comply with his command.

By the Brides eyes, and by the teeming life
Of her green hopes, we charge ye, that no strife
(Farther then Gentlenes tends) gets place
Among ye, striving for her lace:
O doe not fall
Foule in these noble pastimes, lest ye call
Discord in, and so divide
The youthfull Bride-groom, and the fragrant Bride:
Which Love fore-fend; but spoken,
Be't to your praise, no peace was broken.

To bed, to bed, kind Turtles, now, and write
This the short'st day, and this the longest night;
But yet too short for you: 'tis we
Who count this night as long as three,
Lying alone,
Telling the Clock strike Ten, Eleven, Twelve, One.
Quickly, quickly then prepare;
And let the Young-men and the Bride-maids share
Your Garters; and their joynts
Encircle with the Bride-grooms Points.

What's that we see from far? the spring of day
Bloomed from the east, or fair enjewelled May
Blown out of April, or some new
Star filled with glory to our view,
Reaching at heaven,
To add a nobler planet to the seven?
Say, or do we not descry
Some goddess in a cloud of tiffany
To move, or rather the
Emergent Venus from the sea?

'Tis she! 'Tis she! or else some more divine
Enlightened substance; mark how from the shrine
Of holy saints she paces on,
Treading upon vermilion
And amber, spice-

Let faire or foule my Mistresse be,
Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me:
Or let her walk, or stand, or sit,
The posture hers, I'm pleas'd with it.
Or let her tongue be still, or stir,
Gracefull is ev'ry thing from her.
Or let her Grant, or else Deny,
My Love will fit each Historie.

Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest,—
Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill
By traveller is heard,
Restraining rampant squirrel
Or too impetuous bird.

How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon,—
Her household, her assembly;
And when the sun goes down

Her voice among the aisles
Incites the timid prayer
Of the minutest cricket,
The most unworthy flower.

When all the children sleep
She turns as long away