Acrostick (II)

AGe bles't I hope thou art: May many years
Run their swift courses, and the rouling spheres
Tire in their motions; May the circl'ing Sun
About this round globe th'row the zodiack run
Giving a hund'red springs and Autumns e're
Earth or the Silent grave entomb thee there.
Bles't be thou here with Age: with vertues more,
Let graces, with thy years encrease; thy store
E're multiply: So as thou hast begun
Shine thou in vertue till thy race be run:
Death fear to touch this blooming blossom; Now
In Aprill stay untill December bow
Her head with age and mak't the earth to kiss;
Ope then thy fatal arms; bear her to bliss.
Pluck her from hence, 'fore Age doth call thee to her,
E're curs'd be, for thou pulls the worlds cheif flower.