Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/245

 But who should less expect from you? In whom alone Love lives again: By whom he is restored to men, And kept and bred and brought up true.

His falling temples you have rear'd, The withered garlands ta'en away; His altars kept from that decay That envy wish'd, and nature fear'd:

And on them burn so chaste a flame, With so much loyalty's expense, As Love to acquit such excellence Is gone himself into your name.

And you are he&mdash;the deity To whom all lovers are design'd That would their better objects find; Among which faithful troop am I&mdash;

Who as an offring at your shrine Have sung this hymn, and here entreat One spark of your diviner heat To light upon a love of mine.

Which if it kindle not, but scant Appear, and that to shortest view; Yet give me leave to adore in you What I in her am grieved to want!

190.

ALSE world, good night! since thou hast brought That hour upon my morn of age; Henceforth I quit thee from my thought, My part is ended on thy stage.