Sions Sonets: An Epithalme to the Bridegroome

HOsanna to the Highest. Ioy betide
The heavenly Bridegroome, and his holy Bride:
Let Heaven above be fill'd with songs,
Let Earth triumph below;
For ever silent be those tongues,
That can be silent now.
You Rocks, and Stones, I charge you all to breake
Your flinty silence, if men cease to speake.
You, that professe that sacred Art,
Or now, or never show it,
Plead not, your Muse is out of heart
Heres that creates a Poet.
Be ravisht Earth, to see this contract driven,
'Twixt sinfull Man, and reconciled Heaven.
Dismount you Quire of Angels; come,
With Men, your joyes divide;
Heaven never shew'd so sweet a Groome,
Nor Earth, so faire a Bride.