See where she sits (Weeping)

See where she sits, and in what comely wise

Drops tears more fair than others' eyes!

Ah, charming maid, let not ill Fortune see

Th' attire thy sorrow wears,

Nor know the beauty of thy tears;

For she'll still come to dress herself in thee.

As stars reflect on waters, so I spy

In ev'ry drop (methinks) her eye.

The baby, which lives there, and always plays

In that illustrious sphere,

Like a narcissus does appear,

Whilst in his flood the lovely boy did gaze.

Ne'er yet did I behold so glorious weather,

As this sunshine and rain together;

Pray heav'n her forehead, that pure hill of snow

(For some such fountain we must find

To waters of so fair a kind),

Melt not, to feed that beauteous stream below.

Ah! mighty Love, that it were inward heat

Which made this precious limbeck

sweat!

But what, alas, ah, what does it avail

That she weeps tears so wond'rous cold

As scarce the ass's hoof can hold,

So cold, that I admire they fall not hail.