University of Virginia Library

Search this document 

159

XXI.

[O sweet delight, O more then humane blisse]

O sweet delight, O more then humane blisse,
With her to live that ever loving is;
To heare her speake, whose words so well are plac't,
That she by them, as they in her are grac't;
Those lookes to view, that feast the viewers eye;
How blest is he that may so live and dye!
Such love as this the golden times did know,
When all did reape, yet none tooke care to sow:
Such love as this an endlesse Summer makes,
And all distaste from fraile affection takes.
So lov'd, so blest, in my belov'd am I;
Which, till their eyes ake, let yron men envy.