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OLYMPUS.
Spoken by Mrs. P. L. to the right honourable the Lord and Lady Roos, at Belvoir, before a Play; she starting up, as rising from the dead.
1675.
Blessings upon those Eyes! whose pow'rful shine
Has open'd mine.
The pointed raies that from your Glories broke,
Like Sun-beams, glanc'd on me, and I awoke.
Your rich intensive Light
Broke through the Clouds of Nature's deepest Night.
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Reviv'd a drooping Flower,
And made it grow
From Winding-sheets and Graves of Snow.
May Smiles, Joyes, Loves, attend your sight;
For thence they gain their choicest light.
From you may ghastly Objects fly,
As gloomy shades fro' th' morning Sky.
Nothing that can frightful be
To Innocence, or purity,
Can in this Orbe appear;
No more than darkness in the upper Sphear.
If th' Issue of the Poets brain,
Either were obscene, or vain;
We cleans'd his Muse;
Like muddy Carps in springing Stews.
If in the Cradle any thing seem'd wild;
We circumciz'd the Child;
And tam'd its wanton rage:
Thus Priests i'th' Golden-Age
Only thought the Sacrifice
Worthy to ascend the Skies;
When the Smoak vanish'd, and the flame did rise.
Acceptance almost is our due;
Since we are so devout for you.
Consult this place, none can despair,
Since influenc'd from the Noble, and the Fair.
Your smiles, fair Lady, and most noble Lord,
Must life to us afford.
Shine from your lofty Sphear,
Our blossomes soon will fruit appear.
Thus Jove and Juno on Olympus sate,
Smil'd on the infant World, and crown'd its fate.
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