To My Dear Sister Mrs. S., The Chamber

Entring your doore Istarted back, sure this
(Said I) deaths shady house and household is,
And yonder shines a beauty (as of old
Magnificent Tombs eternall Lamps did hold,
In lieu of lifes light) a fair Taper hid
In a dark lanthorn; an eye shut in's lid;
A flower in shade; a star in nights dark womb;
An alablaster Columne to a Tomb.
But why this night in day can thy fair eye
Delight in such an Aethiops company?
Man hath too many naturall clouds; his bloud
And flesh so blind his hood wink'd soule that good
Is scarce discern'd from bad; why should we then
Seek out an artificiall darkesome den?
The better part of nature hidden lies;
The stars indeed we may behold, and Skies,
But not their Influence; we see the fire
But not then heat; why then should we desire
More night, when darknesse so ore Nature lies
That all things mask their better qualities: