Her Muffe.

'T Was not for some calm blessing to deceive,
Thou didst thy polish'd hands in shagg'd …urs weave,
It were no blessing thus obtain'd,
Thou rather would'st a curse have gain'd,
Then let thy warm driven snow be ever stain…d.

Not that you feared the discolo'ring cold,
Might, alchymize their Silver into Gold;
Nor could your ten white Nuns so sin,
That you should thus pennance them in
Each in her course hair smock of Discipline,

Nor Her… -like, who on their crest still wore
A Lyon, Panther, Leopard or a Bore:
To look their Enemies in their Herse,
Thou would'st thy hand should deeper pierce,
And, in its softness rough, appear more fierce.

No, no, Lucasta, destiny Decreed
That Beasts to thee a sacrifice should bleed,
And strip themselves to make you gay;
For ne'r yet Herald did display,
A Coat, where Sables upon Ermin lay.

This for Lay-Lovers, that must stand at dore,
Salute the threshold, and admire no more:
But I, in my Invention tough,
Rate not this outward bliss enough,
But still contemplate must the hidden Muffe.