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cener beasts, Creep conscious to their secret rests: Nature to thee doth reverence pay, Ill omens, and ill sights removes out of thy way. XIII. At thy appearance, grief itself is said, To shake his wings, and rouze his head; And cloudy care has often took A gentle beamy smile, reflected from thy look. XIV. At thy appearance, fear itself grows bold; Thy sun-shine melts away his cold: Encourag'd at the sight of thee, To the cheek colour comes, and firmness to the knee. XV. Even lust, the master of a harden'd face, Blushes if thou be'st in the place, To darkness' curtains he retires, In sympathizing nights he rolls his smoaky fires. XVI. When, goddess, thou lift'st up thy waken'd head, Out of the morning's purple bed, Thy choir of birds about thee play, And all the joyful world salutes the rising day. XVII. The ghosts, and monster spirits, that did presume A body's priv'lege to assume, Vanish again invisibly, And bodies gain again their visibility. XVIII. All the world's bravery that delights our eyes, Is but thy sev'ral liveries, Thou the rich dye on them bestow'st, Thy nimble pencil paints this landskip as thou go'st. XIX. A crimson garment in the rose thou wear'st; A crown of studded gold thou bear'st, The virgin lillies in their white, Are clad but with the lawn of almost naked light. XX. The Violet, spring's little infant, stands, Girt in thy purple swadling-bands: On the fair Tulip thou dost dote; Thou cloath'st it in a gay and party-colour'd coat. XXI. With flame condens'd thou dost the jewels fix, And solid colours in it mix: Flora herself, envies to see Flowers fairer than her own, and durable as she. XXII. Ah, goddess! would thou could'st thy hand with-hold, And be less liberal to gold; Didst thou less value to it give, Of how much care (alas) might'st thou poor man relieve! XXIII. To me the sun is more delightful far, An
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