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100

[iii] A Louers Heauen.

Those Starres, nay Sunnes, which turne
So stately in their Spheares,
And daz'ling doe not burne,
The beautie of the Mone
Which on those Cheekes appeares,
The Harmonie which to that Voyce is giuen,
Make mee thinke yee are Heauen:
If Heauen yee bee? ô that by pow'rfull Charmes
I Atlas were, to holde you in mine Armes!