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.17.
Since She whome I lovd, hath payd her last debt [f. 37]
To Nature, and to hers, & my good is dead
And her Soule early into heauen rauished,
Wholy in heauenly things my Mind is sett.
Here the admyring her my Mind did whett
To seeke thee God; so streames do shew ye head,
But though I haue found thee,'& thou my thirst hast fed,
A holy thirsty dropsy melts mee yett.
But why should I begg more Love, when as thou
Dost woe my Soule for hers; offring all thine:
And dost not only feare least I allow
My Love to Saints and Angels things diuine
But in thy tender iealosy dost doubt
Least ye World, fleshe, yea Deuill putt thee out.
.18.
Show me deare Christ, thy Spouse, so bright & cleare.
What is it She, wch on the other Shore
Goes richly painted? Or wch rob'd & tore
Laments & mournes in Germany & here?
Sleepes She a thousand, then peepes vp one yeare?
Is She selfe truth & errs? now new, now'outwore?
Doth She,' and did She, & shall She evermore
On one, on Seauen, or on no hill appeare?
Dwells She wt vs, or like adventuring knights
first trauaile we to seeke & then make Love?
Betray kind husband thy Spouse to or Sights,
And let myne amorous Soule court thy mild Dove
Who is most trew, & pleasing to thee, then
When She'is embrac'd & open to most Men.