Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

You moderne wits who call this world a star,
Who say, the other planets too worlds are,
And that the spots that in the midstar found
Are to the people there Ilands and ground;
And that the water which surrounds the Earth
Reflects to each, and gives their shining birth;
The brightnesse of these teares had you but seen
Faln from her eyes, no argument had been
To contradict that water here displayes
To them as they to us siderious rayes.

Her Teares have then the stars a better right
And a more clear propriety to light.
For stars receive their borrowd beames from far,
These bring their own along with them, and are
Born in the sphear of light; Others may blind
Themselves with weeping much, because they spend
The brightnesse of their eyes upon their teares,
But hers are inexhaustible; she spares
Beames to her teares as Tapers lend their light
And should excesse of teares rob her of sight,
Two of these moist sparks might restore't: our eyes
An humour watry chrystalline comprise,
Why may not then two christall drops restore
That sight a Christall humour gave before.

Love dewes his locks here, woes each drop to fall
A pupill in his eye and sight recall:
And I hope fortune passing through this rain
Will at last see to recompence her pain.