Be thou, sweet Venus, present now,
Whilst at thy sacred rites we vow;
Smile, Venus, with the smile that charms
When Mars enfolds thee in his arms,
O'ercome with glance as sunshine golden,
Renowned from the ages olden.
Smile; then Phoebus' flame shall fail,
Nor Phoebe her own darts avail.
Thy Cupid only against thee
Wields successful weaponry.
Oft and oft the laughing Boy
In the wildness of his joy
Has slipt into Diana's quiver
His keen arrows, that a shiver
Pleasant-painful send through all,
When he, trickster, doth enthral.
Yea, he has dar'd the Lord of Fire
With flames more burning, in his ire.
The arm-link'd Virgins to thee pray,
Seeking thou wouldst near them stay;
Were it but to offer here,
In the flock that hovers near,
More doves and sparrows lightly-flying:
To their prayer there's no denying.
Lo, they dedicate in posies
All their lips supply of roses;
All their necks, of lilies, white
As the dewy stainless light;
Yea, the whole Spring of each cheek,
And that which from their eyes doth break.
Hence, Venus, arms thou mayest take
For thy wanton Boy to make
Arrows from their fire-darting eyes,
Or torches flame-tipp'd that surprise
With Love's delicious agonies.
Take them, and see thou lett'st them know
What means a 'mistress;' and then show
What the Night all-wakeful is
In the rapture of its bliss;
What the bold lover shall demand
When all charms he doth command.
Take them: by all the hearts that burn,
And passionate unto thee turn!
By all the mysteries that are breath'd,
Or in thine own girdle sheath'd!
By all to thee Adonis e'er
Or said or did, when he would swear,
Ne'er i' the world was one so fair! G.