Of Cynthia

The ancient readers of Heaven's book,
Which with curious eye did look
Into Nature's story;
All things under Cynthia took
To be transitory.

This the learned only knew,
But now all men find it true,
Cynthia is descended,
With bright beams, and heav'nly hue,
And lesser stars attended.

Lands and seas she rules below,
Where things change, and ebb, and flow,
Spring, wax old, and perish;
Only Time, which all doth mow,
Her alone doth cherish.

Time's young hours attend her still,
And her eyes and cheeks do fill
With fresh youth and beauty:
All her lovers old do grow,
But their hearts they do not so,
In their love and duty.