.Sions Sonttt. 0, who would not repofe his life, his biifs, . .. '· Upon a Bafe fo fair, fo .fir.m as this ? . . . . * Hi1 waii conflani: firm, andpure. · :f · Hi1 rRhole car.: · fiage. . ' . " ,., . . I . [7.] . - ' HIs mouth ! but fiay, what nee.ds my lips be lavifh . In chciiCe of words, ~vnen one alone will ravffh ? But fhall, in brief, my ruder tongue difcove_r . The fpeakiilg :fmage of my 'abfent'Lover· --': ; 7 a • Let then the curious hand of Art refine · · · ·. (. The race of virtues,mora], aQ.d d:ivine, · . · From whence, by he(!ven let th~re exrrafted be A perfetl: QE.intdferce; eyenf~ch isf:Ie. . ' ' . ' I . . ' J' ' '' I VI R G1Ns. Sonet :Xviil. ' 'fHrice fairer than the fairefi:, w~ofe fad te~rs And fmiling words have charm'(! our eys, our ear$ Say, whither is this prize of beauty gone, · . r. •. . More fair than kind, to let- thee weep alone? '(; '· Thy tempting lips have whet our dull defireJ · . ' ·. · And till we fee him; we are all on fire : .tl :. We'll find him out, if thou wilt ne our guide·: The next way to the Brid~g'ro.om._i s the * Bride. · *The Church i:nhe wdj to Cbrift. . ,. ,. B R ID E. Sonet XIX. "' 1 F errour led not my dull thoughts amifs, . My Genius-tell~ me wh~re my true Love is ; He's bufie lab,rmg on h1s * ftowry banks, * Infpiring fweetneefs, and *receiving thanks Watring thofe plants, whofe tender roots are*dry;l And pruning fuch whofe crefis afpire * roo high, - ' Tranfplaming, 'Grafting, Reaping frui~s from iome, And covering others rhatare* newly come. / Cc *Cot~· 'I
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