[36.] Roses in breathing forth their sent
I
Roses in breathing forth their sent,
Or stars their borrowed ornament;
Nymphs in the watery sphere that move,
Or Angels in their orbs above;
The winged chariot of the light,
Or the slow silent wheels of night;
The shade which from the swifter Sun,
Doth in a circular motion run;
Or souls that their eternal Rest do keep,
Make far less noise then Cælia's Breath in sleep.
II
But if the Angel which inspires
This subtle flame with active fires,
Should mould this breath to words, and those
Into a harmony dispose;
The musick of this heavenly sphear
Would steal each soul out at the ear,
And into plants and stones infuse
A life that Cherubins would chuse;
And with new powers invert the laws of Fate,
Kill those that live, and dead things animate.
