To Splendora A Morning Salutation

Splendora blesse the morne and Sol's resort,
each blossome yet unborne shall thanke thee for't;
but theres noe sunne but in thine eyes.
the flowers,
and dew-bepearled bowers
shedd orient dropps till thou arise,
which on the ground
like pebbles round
congealed appeare, each proud to beare thee lyes:

Pearch here then siluer Doue, and doe not flye mee,
if thou mis-doubtst my loue, sitt downe and trye mee,
my soule is ravishd with thy sight
Ide sippe
Nepenthe from thy lipp,
oh doe not kill me with thy flight,
should Joue withstand
what I demaund
Ide warre with heauen it selfe for my delight:

Mercurys charming Rodd, and powerfull numbers
shall strike each prying God into deepe slumbers;
whilst we two solace in embraces
none wakes,
noe Deity partakes
but Cupid sporting in our faces,
the wanton boy
augments our Joy,
Because he doates himselfe on thy sweet graces:

See what a louely bedd of fragrant Roses
hath curteous flora spread, and deckd with posies
to entertaine thy louelyer skinne,
sitt downe
dis-roabe thy selfe, and crowne
Desire with Joy, it is noe sinne;
A sugred kisse,
leades to my blisse,
Joue when he wakes will wish hee here had beene.
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