Page:Madagascar, with other poems - Davenant (1638).djvu/68

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Which Xerxes so much lov'd, or of the Lime,Or the tall Pine, which spreads, as it doth climbe?Or Lovers Sicamore, or mine owne Bay?On which, since my Euridices sad day,My Harp hath silent hung: No Trees your BowreShall need; the slender stalke of ev'ry Flow'r,When you arrive among us, and dispenceThe lib'rall comfort of your influence,Shall reach at Body, Rinde, and Boughs; then growTill't yeeld a Shade, as well as Scent, and Show,For your Attendants here; Tomiris, sheThat taught her tender sex, the wayes to victorie;The Queene of Ithaca, whose precious nameFor chaste desires, is decre to us, and Fame;And Artimesia whom Truths best Record,Declar'd a living Tomb unto her Lord,Shall ever wait upon your sway; and whenThe Destinies are so much vex'd with Men,That the just God-like Monarch of your brest,Is ripe, and fit to take eternall rest;To court his spirit here, I will not callThe testy Pyrrhus, or malicious Hanibal;

Nor

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