Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/210



Many waters cannot quench love, Neither can the floods drown it. Who shall snare or slay the white dove Faith, whose very dreams crown it, Gird it round with grace and peace, deep, Warm, and pure, and soft as sweet sleep? Many waters cannot quench love, Neither can the floods drown it.

Set me as a seal upon thine heart, As a seal upon thine arm. How should we behold the days depart And the nights resign their charm? Love is as the soul: though hate and fear Waste and overthrow, they strike not here. Set me as a seal upon thine heart, As a seal upon thine arm.