Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/136

 Of your loves couplement; And let faire Venus, that is Queene of love, With her heart-quelling Sonne upon you smile, Whose smile, they say, hath vertue to remove All Loves dislike, and friendships faultie guile For ever to assoile. Let endlesse Peace your steadfast hearts accord, And blessèd Plentie wait upon your bord; And let your bed with pleasures chast abound, That fruitfull issue may to you afford, Which may your foes confound, And make your joyes redound Upon your Brydale day, which is not long: Sweete Themmes! runne softlie, till I end my Song.'

So ended she; and all the rest around To her redoubled that her undersong, Which said their brydale daye should not be long: And gentle Eccho from the neighbour ground Their accents did resound. So forth those joyous Birdes did passe along, Adowne the Lee, that to them murmurde low, As he would speake, but that he lackt a tong, Yet did by signes his glad affection show, Making his streame run slow. And all the foule which in his flood did dwell Gan flock about these twaine, that did excell The rest, so far as Cynthia doth shend The lesser starres. So they, enrangèd well, Did on those two attend, And their best service lend Against their wedding day, which was not long: Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my Song.