 | Lucasta |  |
Night.
To Lucasta.
Night! loathed Jaylor of the lock'd up Sun,
And Tyrant-turnkey on committed day;
Bright Eyes lye fettered in thy Dungeon,
And Heaven it self doth thy dark Wards obey:
Thou dost arise our living Hell,
With thee grones, terrors, furies dwell,
Untill Lucasta doth awake,
And with her Beams these heavy chains off shake.
And Tyrant-turnkey on committed day;
Bright Eyes lye fettered in thy Dungeon,
And Heaven it self doth thy dark Wards obey:
Thou dost arise our living Hell,
With thee grones, terrors, furies dwell,
Untill Lucasta doth awake,
And with her Beams these heavy chains off shake.
Behold, with opening her Almighty Lid
Bright eyes break rowling, and with lustre spread,
And captive Day his chariot mounted is;
Night to her proper Hell is beat,
And sctued to her Ebon Seat;
Till th' Earth with play oppressed lies,
And drawes again the Curtains of her Eyes.
Bright eyes break rowling, and with lustre spread,
And captive Day his chariot mounted is;
Night to her proper Hell is beat,
And sctued to her Ebon Seat;
Till th' Earth with play oppressed lies,
And drawes again the Curtains of her Eyes.
But Bondslave, I, know neither Day nor Night;
Whether she murth'ring sleep or saving wake;
Now broyl'd ith' Zone of her reflected light,
Then frose my Isicles, not Sinews shake:
Smile then new Nature, your soft blast
Doth melt our Ice, and Fires wast:
Whil'st the scorch'd shiv'ring world new born
Now feels it all the day one rising morn.
Whether she murth'ring sleep or saving wake;
Now broyl'd ith' Zone of her reflected light,
Then frose my Isicles, not Sinews shake:
Smile then new Nature, your soft blast
Doth melt our Ice, and Fires wast:
Whil'st the scorch'd shiv'ring world new born
Now feels it all the day one rising morn.
| Lucasta | |