 | Zepheria |  |
Canzon. 27.
[Neare from a loftie pitch, hath made more speed]
Neare from a loftie pitch, hath made more speedThe feather-sayling Faulcon to the lure,
Nor fayrer stoopt, when he on fist would feede,
Then I (Zepheria) to thine eyes allure.
Neare from the deepe, when winds declare a tempest,
Posts with more haste the little Halcion,
Nor faster hyes him to some safer rest,
Then I haue fled from thy death-threatning frown.
Nere did the Sunnes loue-mate, the gold Hetropion
Smile more resplendent lustre on her deere,
Nay euer was his shine to her more welcome
Then thine to me, when smiling was thy cheere.
But now my sunne it fits thou take thy set,
And vayle thy face with frownes as with a frontlet.
| Zepheria | |