Poems and translations amorous, lusory, morall, divine [collected and translated] by Edvvard Sherburne ...

The Night: OR, The fair Mourner.

THis fair, and animated Night In Sables drest▪ whose Curls of Light Are with a shade of Cypresse veil'd; Not from the Stygian Deeps exhal'd, But from Heaven's bright Balcone came; Not dropping Dew, but shedding Flame, The blushing East her smiles display, Her beauteous Front the Dawn of Day; The Stars doe sparkle in her Eyes, And in her Looks the Sun doth rise. No mask of Clouds and Storms she wears, But still serene and calm appears: No dismall Birds, no hideous Fiends, Nor charming Hag on her attends; The Graces are her Maids of Honour, And thousand Cupids wait upon her. Dear Flames! still burning, though you are Supprest: Lights, though obscur'd, still fair! What Heart does not adore you? who, But sighs, or languishes for you? Heaven wishes, by your shade outvy'd, It's milky Path in Ink were dy'd: The Sun within an Ebon Case, Longs to shut up his golden•• Face: The Moon too with thy sad Dresse took, Would fain put on a mourning Look.

Sweet Night! and if th'art Night, of Peace The gentle Mother! Cares Release! My Heart, now long opprest, relieve; And in thy softer Bosome give My weary Limbs a short Repose; 'Tis but a small Request, Heaven knows: Nor think it shame to condiscend, For Night is stil'd the Lovers Friend. But Muse, thou art too loud I fear, The Night loves silence, Muse forbear.