Sonnet 11

LAmpe of Heavens Christall Hall that brings the Houres,
Eye-dazeler, who makes the ugly Night
At thy Approach flie to her slumbry Bowres,
And fills the World with Wonder and Delight.
Life of all lives, Death-giver by thy flight
To the south Pole from these sixe Signes of ours,
Gold-smith of all the Stars, with Silver bright
Who Moone enamells, Apelles of the Flowers.
Ah from those watry Plaines thy golden Head
Raise up, and bring the so long lingring Morne,
A Grave, nay Hell, I find become this Bed,
This Bed so grievously where I am torne:
But woe is me though thou now brought the Day,
Day shall but serve moe Sorrows to display.