71
To the Earle of Portland,
Lord Treasurer; on the
mariage of his Sonne.
My Lord, this Night is yours! each wandring Star
That was nnbusi'd, and irregular;
Most gravely now, his bright Companion leads,
To fix o're your glad Roofe, their shining Heads.
And it is sayd, th'exemplar King's your guest;
And that the rich-Ey'd-Darling of his Breast,
(To ripen all your Joyes) will there become
The Musick, Odor, Light, of ev'ry Roome!
A mixture of two noble bloods, in all
Faith, and domestick nature, union call,
No travail'd Eyes have seene, with humbler state
Of love perform'd, where Princes celebrate.
This when I heard; I know not what bold Starre
My Spirits urg'd, but it was easier farre
That was nnbusi'd, and irregular;
Most gravely now, his bright Companion leads,
To fix o're your glad Roofe, their shining Heads.
And it is sayd, th'exemplar King's your guest;
And that the rich-Ey'd-Darling of his Breast,
(To ripen all your Joyes) will there become
The Musick, Odor, Light, of ev'ry Roome!
A mixture of two noble bloods, in all
Faith, and domestick nature, union call,
No travail'd Eyes have seene, with humbler state
Of love perform'd, where Princes celebrate.
This when I heard; I know not what bold Starre
My Spirits urg'd, but it was easier farre
The
