SONG XIII
[Proud (Venus now at last) resigne]
1
Proud (Venus now at last) resigne,
Thy long usurped Place,
And seat Florilla on that shrine,
Who claimes the chiefer grace;
Whilst quicken'd with the hallowed fire,
Of chaste desire,
All, toward thine Altar, move
And each man dies
A Sacrifice
To thee, the Queen of Love.
2
Venus! alas poor silly Queen!
One god of love brought forth,
Which ne're could see, nor e're was seen,
Yet much extoll'd her Worth:
But thousand real Cupids lye,
In my Faire's Eye,
And ayme, at every Heart,
Whose Hairs do grow,
To string your Bow,
And every Beame's a Dart.
3
Apelles (once) to pourtract out
That Dame, did, for her sake,
Go ransack half the world throughout,
And plunder'd features take,
But my sweet love is more Divine,
Each graceful Line,
Her nobler Parts do bear,
And should you seek,
Upon her Cheek
There's ne're a Mole grows there.
4
Yet (Mother Venus) with your Son,
If you can, One thing do,
You shall again ascend the Throne,
And I will homage you:
Go whip your Boy, and let him try
His Archery,
If my Dear, wounded prove,
You shall redeem
Your self the Queen
And Him, the god of Love.
