Ayres and dialogues | ||
17
The Cælestiall Mistress.
Cælia , thy bright Angels faceCælia , thy bright Angels face may be cal'd a heav'nly place: the whiteness of the starry way nature did on thy forehead lay: but thine eyes have brightness woon, not from Stars, but from the Sun: the blushing of the Morn in thy Rosie cheek is worn, the Musick of the heav'nly Sphears in thy soul's winning voyce appears: happy were I, had I (like Atlas) grace, so faire a heav'n within mine Arms t'imbrace.
Ayres and dialogues | ||