University of Virginia Library

Son. [xii]

[As in a duskie and tempestuous Night]

As in a duskie and tempestuous Night,
A Starre is wont to spreade her Lockes of Gold,
And while her pleasant Rayes abroad are roll'd,
Some spitefull Cloude doth robbe vs of her Sight:
(Faire Soule) in this blacke Age so shin'd thou bright,
And made all Eyes with Wonder thee beholde,
Till vglie Death depriuing vs of Light,
In his grimme mistie Armes thee did enfolde.
Who more shall vaunt true Beautie heere to see?
What Hope doth more in any Heart remaine,
That such Perfections shall his Reason raine?
If Beautie with thee borne too died with thee?
World, plaine no more of Loue, nor count his Harmes,
With his pale Trophees Death hath hung his Armes.