Poetry Archives

Cold as the breath of winds that blow
To silver shot descending snow,
  Lucasta sigh’t; when she did close
      The world in frosty chaines!
  And then a frowne to rubies frose
      The blood boyl’d in our veines:
Yet cooled not the heat her sphere
Of beauties first had kindled there.

Then mov’d, and with a suddaine flame
Impatient to melt all againe,
  Straight from her eyes she lightning hurl’d,
      And earth in ashes mournes;
  The sun his blaze denies the world,
      And in her luster burnes:
Yet warmed not the hearts, her nice
Disdaine had first congeal’d to ice.

And now her teares nor griev’d desire
Can quench this raging, pleasing fire;
  Fate but one way allowes; behold
      Her smiles’ divinity!
  They fann’d this heat, and thaw’d that cold,
      So fram’d up a new sky.
Thus earth, from flames and ice repreev’d,
E’re since hath in her sun-shine liv’d.