 | The works of Sr William Davenant
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Upon the Nuptials of Charles Lord Herbert, and the Lady M. Villers
Roses 'till ripe, and ready to be blown,
Their beauty hide, whilst it is yet their owne;
'Tis ours but in expectance, whilst th' are green;
And bashfully they blush when first 'tis seen,
As if to spread their beauty were a crime;
A fault in them, not in all-ripening-Time.
So stands (hidden with Vayles) in all her pride
Of early flourishing, the bashful Bride!
And 'till the Priest, with words devoutly said,
Shall ripen her a Wife, that's yet a Maid,
Her Vaile will never off: so modest still,
And so express'd by Nature, not by skill,
That sure she dress'd her looks when she did rise,
Not in her Glass, but in her Mother's Eyes.
The jolly Bridegroom stands, as he had t'ane
And led Love strongly fetter'd in a Chaine:
Forgetting when her Vailes are laid aside,
Himself is but a Captive to the Bride.
The Priest now joynes their hands, and he doth find
By misterie divine, in both one mind,
Mix'd, and dispers'd; his spirits strait begin
(As they were rap't) to vex, and talk within:
His Temples sweat, whilst he stood silent by,
Not as prepar'd to bless, but prophesie:
What needed more? since they must needs possess,
All he fore-told, though he should never bless:
And blessing unto such as most restores,
Or but repeats what was their Ancestors.
| The works of Sr William Davenant
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