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Poems

By Thomas Philipott

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On a Nymph pourtrayed in stone, that powred forth two spouts of water from her eyes into a Garden.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


24

On a Nymph pourtrayed in stone, that powred forth two spouts of water from her eyes into a Garden.

Think that this Statue which now courts your view,
VVas once a virgin of that glorious hue,
Set out and furnish'd with such charming grace,
Each durst affirme she had an Angells face;
But as those Mineralls, which the teeming Earth,
Combining with the Sun, improves with birth,
Do through the womb o'th' Mine their veines diffuse,
That Metalls like themselves they may produce:
Ev'n so that rockie hardnesse, which was bred
Within the caverns of her heart, did spred
A drowsie numnesse thorow everie sense,
Whose chilnesse all those Organs did condense,
That gave attendance on the Braine, (the Throne
Where Life and Motion sit install'd) to stone:
But 'cause before those sparkling rayes, her eyes
Powr'd forth, did make each heart love sacrifice;
Thy spouts of teares, though turn'd to stone, distill,
As if they wept for those their scorne did kill.