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The sun-beames in ye East are spred [f. 22]
Leaue leaue fayr bride your solitary bed.
No more shall you returne to it alone.
It nourseth sadnes & your bodyes print
Like to a graue ye yielding Downe doth dint
you & your other you meete ther anone.
Put forth, put forth yt warme balme-breathing thigh
Wch when next time you in these sheetes will smother
Ther it must meet an other
Wch neuer was, but must be ofte more nigh;
Come glad frō thence, go gladder then you came
To day put on perfection and a womans name.
Daughters of London, you w
ch bee
Or golden Mines & furnish'd Treasuree;
You wch are Angels, yet still bring wt you
Thousands of Angels on your mariage dayes
Helpe wt your presence & deuise to prayse
These rites wch allso vnto you grow due.
Conceitedly dres her, & be assignd
By you fitt place for euery flower & Iewell
Make her for Love fitt fuell,
As gay as Flora, and as rich as Inde,
So may she fayre, rich, glad, & in nothing lame
To day put on perfection & a womans name.
And you frolique Patricians
Sonnes of these Senators, wealths deepe Oceans
Yee painted Courtiers, Barrells of others witts
Yee Cuntrymen, who but your Beasts, love none
Yee of those fellowships whereof he' is one
Of study & play made strange Hermaphroditts
Here shine: This bridegroome to ye Temple bring.
Lo, in yon path wch store of strawd flowers graceth
The sober virgin paceth
Except my sight fayle: t'is no other thing.
Weepe not, nor blush; here is no griefe nor shame
To day put on perfection & a womans name.