the bill,
Sang ioy to her in an vndittied antheme:
An artificiall heauen stands open still,
Filling the roofe with a sweet vnknowne noyse,
Downe fals a clowd like a rich diadem,
And showes a hundred naked singing boyes.

78

The sence of smelling with all rare deuises,
That rich _Arabia_ or the world can yeeld,
The dew of Roses and choise Indian spices,
The purest of the garden and the field.
The earth to part with these rare gifts now rises,
And vowes no more her nature so profuse,
Shall let her sweets be from her breast distild,
To feed their vanitie with her abuse.

79

Then in a rich imbroidred bed of downe,
Pluck't from the c[=o]stant Turtles fethered breast,
Vpon her head he set imperiall crowne,
And to her goes: Now is his soule at rest.
This night he counts the end of his renowne,
The sence of feeling, she feeles by his power,
And like a subiect yeelds to his request,
Whilest _Mahomet_ a virgin doth deflower.

80

Now feares this flower deflowr'd his loue will waine,
Wishing the lustfull act had bin vndoon,
The pleasure cannot counteruaile the paine,
For still she thinkes with torment ioy is woon,
His loue growes full, she gets it now with gaine:
He like a ring of gold insets his iewell,
But fearing of his force she should disdaine,
Till sighes and kisses did inflame Loues fewell.

81

Then like the God of Warre, caught in a net,
He twin'd his _Venus_, danger was not nigh,
And as a Diamond compar'd with Iet,
So show'd her sparkling eye against his eye.
The sunne-gaz'd Eagle now this done doth get,
And gently gripes her, hurting not his pray,
She sounds with pleasure, second sweets are high
And wishes _Phoebus_ blinde all night, no day.

82

The red-cheek't morning opens now her gate,
And busie day breathes life into the world,
The heauens great coachman mounted is in state,
And darknesse from the aire to hell is hurld.
Now pleasures king by day light sees his mate,
Whil'st she lay blushing like the damaske rose,
His ietty haire she with her fingers curld,
He hug'd her fast, least he his ioyes should lose.

83

Her sight begot in him a new desire,
For that is restlesse alwaies in extreames,
Nought but saciety can quench loues fire.
Now throgh the christal c