 | The poems of William Habington |  |
63
To CASTARA.
Forsake with me the earth, my faire,And travell nimbly through the aire,
Till we have reacht th' admiring skies;
Then lend sight to those heavenly eyes
Which blind themselves, make creatures see.
And taking view of all, when we
Shall finde a pure and glorious spheare;
Wee'le fix like starres for ever there.
Nor will we still each other view,
Wee'le gaze on lesser starres then you;
See how by their weake influence they,
The strongest of mens actions sway.
In an inferiour orbe below,
Wee'le see Calisto loosely throw
Her haire abroad: as she did weare,
The self-same beauty in a Beare,
As when she a cold Virgin stood,
And yet inflam'd Ioves lustfull blood.
Then look on Lede, whose faire beames
By their reflection guild those streames,
Where first unhappy she began
To play the wanton with a Swan.
If each of these loose beauties are
Transform'd to a more beauteous starre
By the adult'rous lust of Iove;
Why should not we, by purer love?
| The poems of William Habington | |