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OMNIANA.
171

Thus wrapt in rufull thought through the waste field
I stagger'd on, and scattered my woe,
Bedew'd the grasse with tears mine eyes did yield;
At last I am arrived with footing slow
Near a black pitchy wood, that strongest throw
Of starry beam no'te easily penetrate:
On the north side I walked to and fro
In solitary shade. The Moon's sly gate
Had cross'd the middle line: It was at least so late.

When th' other part of night in painfull grief
Was almost spent, out of that solemn grove
There issued forth for my timely relief.
The fairest wight that ever sight did prove,
So fair a wight as might command the love
Of best of mortall race; her count'nance sheen
The pensive shade gently before her drove;
A mild sweet light shone from her lovely eyne;
She seem'd no earthly branch, but sprung of stock divine.

A silken mantle, coloured like the skie
With silver starres in a due distance set,
Was cast about her somewhat carelessly,
And her bright flowing hair was not ylet
By art's device; onely a chappelet
Of chiefest flowers, which from far and near
The Nymphs in their pure lilly hands had fet,
Upon her temples she did seemly weare,
Her own fair beams made all her ornaments appear.