Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/270

 That golden shower in which he did repose— One dewy drop it stains Which thy Aurora rains Upon the rural plains, When from thy bed she passionately goes.

Then, waken'd with the music of the merles, She not remembers Memnon when she mourns: That faithful flame which in her bosom burns From crystal conduits throws those liquid pearls: Sad from thy sight so soon to be removed, She so her grief delates. —O favour'd by the fates Above the happiest states, Who art of one so worthy well-beloved!

PHINEAS FLETCHER

1580-1650

222. A Litany

Drop, drop, slow tears, And bathe those beauteous feet Which brought from Heaven The news and Prince of Peace: Cease not, wet eyes, His mercy to entreat; To cry for vengeance Sin doth never cease. In your deep floods Drown all my faults and fears; Nor let His eye See sin, but through my tears.