On One, who said, He drank to clear his Eyes

As Phoebus, drawing to his Western Seat,
His shining Face bedew'd with beamy Sweat,
His flaming Eyes at last grown blood-shot-red,
By Atoms sprung from his hot Horses speed,
Drives to that Sea green Bosom of his Love's,
And in her Lap his fainting Light improves;

So Thyrsis, when at th' unresisted flame
Of thy fair Mistress's eye, thine dull became,
In sovereign Sack thou did'st an Eye-salve seek,
And stol'st a blest dew from her rosie Cheek:
When straight thy lids a chearful vigour wore,
More quick and penetrating than before.

I saw the sprightly Grape in glory rise,
And with her Day thy drooping Night surprize,
So that, where now a giddy darkness dwells,
Brightness now breaks through liquid Spectacles

Had Adam known this cure in Paradice,
He'd scap'd the Tree, and drunk to clear his Eyes.