1
She
comes! each Princess in her traine hath all
That wise enamor'd Poets, beauty call!
So fit and ready to subdue:
That had they not kind hearts which take a care
To free, and counsel, whom their eyes ensnare,
Poor Lovers would have cause to rue.
2
More welcome than the wandring Sea-mans star,
When in the Night the Winds make causeless war,
Until his Barque so long is tost,
That's sayles to ragges are blown; the Main-yeard beares
Not sheet enough to wipe, and dry those tears
He shed to see his Rudder lost.
The Song ended, all the fore part of the Sea was in an instant turn'd
to dry land, and
Indamora with her Contributary Ladies descended
into the room, and made their entry. Then for entermedium the
Musick began again, and sung this Song.
