Delia: Sonnet 19

REstore thy tresses to the golden Ore,
Yeeld Cithereas sonne those Arkes of loue;
Bequeath the heauens the starrs that I adore,
And to th' Orient doe thy Pearles remoue.
Yeeld thy hands pride vnto th' Iuory white,
T' Arabian odors giue thy breathing sweet:
Restore thy blush vnto Aurora bright,
To Thetis giue the honour of thy feete.
Let Venus haue thy graces, her resign'd,
And thy sweet voyce giue backe vnto the Spheares:
But yet restore thy fierce and cruell minde,
To Hyrcan Tygers, and to ruthles Beares.
Yeeld to the Marble thy hard hart againe;
So shalt thou cease to plague, and I to paine.