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Salmacis
and Hermaphroditus
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Then rose the water-Nymph from
where she lay,
As hauing wonne the glory of the
day,
And her light garments cast from
off her skin.
Hee's mine, she cry'd; and so leapt
spritely in.
The flattering Iuy who did euer
see
Inclaspe the huge trunke of an
aged tree,
Let him behold the young boy as
he stands,
Inclaspt in wanton Salmacis's
hands,
Betwixt those Iu'ry armes she lockt
him fast,
Striuing to get away, till at the
last,
Fondling, she sayd, why striu'st
thou to be gone?
Why shouldst thou so desire to
be alone?
Thy cheeke is neuer fayre, when
none is by:
For what is red and white, but
to the eye?
And for that cause the heauens
are darke at night,
Because all creatures close their
weary sight;
For there's no mortall can so earely
rise,
But still the morning waytes vpon
his eyes.
The earely-rising and soone-singing
Larke
Can neuer chaunt her sweete notes
in the darke;
For sleepe she ne're so little
or so long,
Yet still the morning will attend
her song.
All creatures that beneath bright
Cinthia be,
Haue appetite vnto society;
The ouerflowing waues would haue
a bound
Within the confines of the spacious
ground,
And all their shady currents would
be plaste
In hollow of the solitary vaste,
But that they lothe to let their
soft streames sing,
VVhere none can heare their gentle
murmuring.
[Signature , end of page 36, catchword: Yet]
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| © Twilight
Pictures,
September
2000. This text is freely available for educational, non-profit uses
only. Please report any errors or suggestions to
Drew Whitehead. |
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