Page:Hesperides Vol 2.djvu/21

 the lord; Next for ordaining that thy words not swell To any one unsober syllable: These I could praise thee for beyond another, Wert thou a Winstfield only, not a brother. Consonant, harmonious.

My head doth ache, O Sappho! take Thy fillet, And bind the pain, Or bring some bane To kill it. But less that part Than my poor heart Now is sick; One kiss from thee Will counsel be And physic.

Live by thy muse thou shalt, when others die Leaving no fame to long posterity: When monarchies trans-shifted are, and gone, Here shall endure thy vast dominion.

Hence a blessed soul is fled, Leaving here the body dead; Which since here they can't combine, For the saint we'll keep the shrine.