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FORTH FEASTING. A PANEGYRICKE To the King.
WHat blustring Noise now interrupts my Sleepe?
VVhat echoing Shouts thus cleaue my chrystal Deep?
And call mee hence from out my watrie Court?
VVhat Melodie, what Sounds of Joy and Sport,
Bee these heere hurld from eu'rie neighbour Spring?
VVith what lowd Rumours doe the Mountaines ring?
VVhich in vnusuall Pompe on tip-toes stand,
And (full of VVonder) ouer-looke the Land?
VVhence come these glittring Throngs, these Meteors bright,
This golden People set vnto my Sight?
VVhence doth this Praise, Applause, and Loue, arise?
VVhat Load-starre east-ward draweth thus all Eyes?
Am I awake? or haue some Dreames conspir'd
To mocke my Sense with Shadowes much desir'd?
Stare I that liuing Face, see I those Lookes,
VVhich with Delight wont to amaze my Brookes?
Doe I behold that VVorth, that Man divine,
This Ages Glorie, by these Bankes of mine?
Then is it true what long I wish'd in vaine?
That my much-louing PRINCE is come againe?
So vnto Them whose Zenith is the Pole,
VVhen fixe blacke Months are past, the Sunne doeth rolle:
So after Tempest to Sea-tossed VVights
Faire Helens Brothers show their chearing Lights:
So comes Arabias Meruaile from her VVoods,
And farre farre off is seene by Memphis Floods,