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 The bed is ready, and the maze of love Looks for the treaders; everywhere is wove Wit and new mystery; read, and Put in practice, to understand And know each wile, Each hieroglyphic of a kiss or smile; And do it to the full; reach High in your own conceit, and some way teach Nature and art one more Play than they ever knew before.

If needs we must for ceremony's sake, Bless a sack-posset, luck go with it, take The night-charm quickly, you have spells And magics for to end, and hells To pass; but such And of such torture as no one would grutch To live therein for ever: fry And consume, and grow again to die And live, and, in that case, Love the confusion of the place.

But since it must be done, despatch, and sew Up in a sheet your bride, and what if so It be with rock or walls of brass Ye tower her up, as Danae was;