Page:Hesperides Vol 1.djvu/63



So smooth, so sweet, so silv'ry is thy voice, As, could they hear, the damn'd would make no noise, But listen to thee, walking in thy chamber, Melting melodious words to lutes of amber.

When I thy singing next shall hear, I'll wish I might turn all to ear To drink in notes and numbers such As blessed souls can't hear too much; Then melted down, there let me lie Entranc'd and lost confusedly, And, by thy music stricken mute, Die and be turn'd into a lute.

All things decay with time: the forest sees The growth and downfall of her aged trees; That timber tall, which threescore lusters stood The proud dictator of the state-like wood,— I mean (the sovereign of all plants) the oak— Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver's stroke. Amber, used here merely for any rich material: cp. "Treading on amber with their silver feet".

Lusters, the Roman reckoning of five years.