HIs flames are ioyes, his bandes true Lovers might,
No stain is there, but pure, as purest white,
Where no cloud can appaere to dimme his light,
Nor spot defile, but shame will soon requite.
Heere are affections, tryde by Loves just might
As Gold by fire, and black discern'd by white;
Error by truth, and darknes knowne by light,
Where Faith is vallu'd, for Love to requite.
Please him, and serve him, glory in his might
And firme hee'le be, as Innocency white,
Cleere as th'ayre, warme as Sun's beames, as day light
Just as Truth, constant as Fate, joy'd to requite.
Then love obey, strive to observe his might
And be in his brave Court a glorious light.
Saturday, September 18, 2010