SILEX SCINTILLANS. REGENERATION. I. A WARD, and still in bonds, one day It was high-spring, and all the way Blasted my infant-buds, and sinne II. Storm'd thus; I straight perceiv'd my spring My walke a monstrous, mountain'd thing Measures the melancholy skye, Then drops, and rains for griefe, So sigh'd I upwards still: at last, I reach'd the pinacle, where plac'd I took them up, and layd The other smoake and pleasures weigh'd, IV. With that some cryed, "Away!" straight I Full east, a faire, fresh field could spy: A virgin soile, which no Where, since he stept there, only go V. Here I repos'd; but scarce well set Of stately height, whose branches met I entred, and once in, Amaz'd to see't, Found all was chang'd, and a new spring VI. The unthrift sunne shot vitall gold A thousand peeces, And heaven its azure did unfold, A garland wore: thus fed my eyes, VII. Only a little fountain lent Some use for eares, And on the dumbe shades language spent, I drew her neere, and found Of divers stones, some bright and round, VIII. The first (pray, marke!) as quick as light But th' last, more heavy than the night, I wonder'd much, but, tyr'd At last with thought, My restless eye, that still desir'd, As strange an object brought. IX. It was a banke of flowers, where I descried (Though 'twas mid-day) Some fast asleepe, others broad-eyed, And taking in the ray: |