To CASTARA, The vanity of Avarice.

HArke? how the traytor wind doth cour…
The Saylors to the maine▪
To make their avarice his sport ▪
A tempest checks the fond disdaine!
They beare a safe though humble port.

Wee'le sit my Love upon the shore,
And while proud billowes rise
To warre against the skie, speake ore
Our Loves so sacred misteries.
And charme the Sea to th' calme it had before,

Where's now my pridet' extend my same
Where ever statues are?
And purchase glory to my name
In the smooth court or rugged warre?
My love hath layd the Devill, I am tame.

I'de rather like the violes grow
Vnmarkt i'th shaded vale,
Then on the hill those terrors know
Are breath'd forth by an angry gal…,
There is more pompe above, more sweete below▪

Love, thou divine Philosopher
(While covetous Landlords rent,
And Courtiers dignity preferre)
Instructs us to a sweete content,
Greatnesse is selfe, doth in it selfe interr…,

Castara, what is there above
The treasures we possesse?
We two are all and one, wee move
Like starres in th' orbe of happinesse.
All blessings are Epitomiz'd in Love.