Giles Fletcher The Younger Poems

LOVE is the blossom where there blows
Every thing that lives or grows:
Love doth make the Heav'ns to move,
And the Sun doth burn in love:
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I
But now the second Morning, from her bow'r,
Began to glister in her beams, and now
The roses of the day began to flow'r
...

Here may the band, that now in triumph shines,
And that (before they were invested thus)
In earthly bodies carried heavenly minds,
Pitched round about in order glorious,
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As when the cheerfull sunne, damping wide
Glads all the world with his uprising ray,
And wooes the widow'd earth afresh to pride,
And paints her bosome with the fiovvrie May,
...