Page:Madagascar, with other poems - Davenant (1638).djvu/134

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112

To the Countesse of
Carlile, on the death of
the Earle her Husband.

This Cypresse folded here, in steed of Lawne,These Tapers winking, and these Curtaines drawne;What may they meane? unlesse to qualifieAnd check the lusture of your Eyes, you'll trieTo honour darknesse, and adorne the Night,So strive, thus with your Lord, to bury Light.Call back, your absent Beauties to your care,Though clouded, and conceal'd, wee know you areThe Morning's early'st Beame, life of the Day,The Ev'ns last comfort, and her parting Ray!But why these Teares, that give him no reliefe,For whom you waste the virtue of your griefe?

Such

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