An Epithalamium to my Lord Marquesse of Buckingham, and to his faire and vertuous Lady

Seuere and serious Muse
Whose quill, the name of loue declines,
Be not too nice, nor this deare worke refuse:
Here Venus stirs no flame, nor cupid guides thy lines,
But modest Hymen shakes his Torch, and chast Lucina shines.

The Bridegroomes starres arise,
Maydes, turne your sight, your faces hide:
Lest ye be shipwrack't in those sparkling eyes,
Fit to be seene by none, but by his louely bride:
If him Narcissus should behold, he would forget his pride.

And thou faire Nymph appeare
With blushes, like the purplemorne;
If now thine eares will be content to heare
The title of a Wife, we shortly will adorne
Thee with a ioyfull Mothers [.]ame, when some sweet Childe's borne

We wish a Sonne, whose smile,
Whose beauty may proclaime him thine,
Who may be worthy of his Fathers stile,
May answere to our hopes, and strictly may combine
The happy height of Villiers race, with noble Rutlands line.

Let both their heads be crown'd
With choysest flowers, which shall presage
That Loue shall flourish, and delights abound,
Time, adde thou many dayes, nay ages to their age;
Yet neuer must thy freezing arme, their holy fires asswage.

Now when they ioyne their hands,
Behold, how faire that knot appeares.
O may the firmenesse of these Nuptiall bands
Resemble that bright line, the measure of the yeeres.
Which makes a league betweene the poles, and ioynes the Hemispheres.