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Comfort to a Lady upon the Death of her Husband.
(raine;
DRy your sweet cheek, long drown'd with sorrows
Since Clouds disperst, Suns guild the Aire again.
Seas chafe and fret, and beat, and over-boile;
But turne soone after calme, as Balme, or Oile.
Winds have their time to rage; but when they cease,
The leavie-trees nod in a still-born peace.
Your storme is over; Lady, now appeare
Like to the peeping-spring-time of the yeare.
Off then with grave clothes; put fresh colours on;
And flow, and flame, in your Vermillion.
Upon your cheek sate Ysicles awhile;
Now let the Rose raigne like a Queene, and smile.