To Amoret. Walking in a Starry Evening

If, Amoret, that glorious eye,
In the first birth of light,
And death of Night,
Had with those elder fires you spy
Scatter'd so high,
Receivèd form and sight;

We might suspect in the vast ring,
Amidst these golden glories,
And fiery stories;
Whether the sun had been the king
And guide of day,
Or your brighter eye should sway.

But, Amoret, such is my fate,
That if thy face a star
Had shin'd from far,
I am persuaded in that state,
'Twixt thee and me,
Of some predestin'd sympathy.

For sure such two conspiring minds,
Which no accident, or sight,
Did thus unite;
Whom no distance can confine,
Start, or decline,
One for another were design'd.