Sions Sonets: Sonet 10

NOw rests my love: Till now, her tender brest
Wanting her joy, could finde no peace, no rest:
I charge you all by the true love you beare
To friendship, or what else you count most deare,
Disturbe her not, but let her sleepe her fill;
I charge you all upon your lifes, be still,
O may that labouring soule, that lives opprest
For me; in me, receive eternall rest.

WHat curious face is this? what mortall birth
Can shew a beauty, thus unstain'd with earth!
What glorious Angell wanders thus alone,
From earths foule dungeon, to my fathers throne!
is my love; my love that hath denyde
The world, for me; It is my fairest Bride:
fragrant is her breath! How heavenly faire
Her Angell face! Each glorifying the Aire.