SONG XXXV.
[Low, as my fair Florilla's feet, I lye]
1
Low, as my fair Florilla's feet, I lye,
Rap't, in an Extasie,
Till I am doom'd, either to live or dye:
But oh! her curtain'd Eye, she does display
Whose every single Ray,
Makes me, a lasting everlasting day.
2
Quicken'd by that enlivening Beam, I move
As when Antæus strove,
From th'Earth she treads, more vigorus I prove:
Although her Look, such virtual heat, had thrown
As might excuse the Sun,
From's Clubb, to th'Act of Generation.
3
I Toucht & Kiss'd my dearest fair, then stood good:
Resolved all to Blood,
That Passion, might have made it's action,
But Over loving turn'd to sin, for I
seem'd, as design'd thereby,
Meerly for to Encrease and Multiply.
4
Till, from her Front, (Beaut'ys Majestique throne.)
Fell something, like a Frown,
VVhich bold desire, hath checkt and overthrown.
Hence I like one, inspir'd, from aboue)
VVill (spight of Cupid) prove,
Venus, the Quean, Florilla, Queen of Love.
