Upon a visit to CASTARA in the Night.

T'Was Night: when Phoebe guided by thy rayes,
Chaste as my zeale, with incence of her praise,
I humbly crept to my Castara's shrine.
But oh my fond mistake! for there did shine
A noone of beauty, with such lustre crown'd,
As shewd mong th' impious onely night is found.
It was her eyes which like two Diamonds shin'd,
Brightest ith' dark. Like which could th' Indian find,
But one among his rocks, he would out vie
In brightnesse all the Diamonds of the Skie.
But when her lips did ope… the Phoenix nest
Breath'd forth her odours; where might love once feast,
Hee'd loath his heauenly furfets: if we dare
Affirme, love hath a heaven without my faire.