William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Restoration Verse. 1910.
Song: ‘Come, come, thou glorious object of my sight’William Killigrew (1606–1695)
C
O my joy, my life, my own delight!
May this glad minute be
Blessed to eternity!
See how the glimmering tapers of the sky
Do gaze, and wonder at our constancy,
How they crowd to behold
What our arms do unfold!
How do all envy our felicities,
And grudge the triumphs of Selindra’s eyes!
How Cynthia seeks to shroud
Her crescent in yon cloud!
Where sad night puts her sable mantle on,
Thy light mistaking, hasteth to be gone,
Her gloomy shades give way,
As at the approach of day;
And all the planets shrink, in doubt to be
Eclipsèd by a brighter deity.
How the small
Lights do fall,
And adore
What before
The heavens have not shown,
Nor their godheads known!
Such a love
As may move
From above
To descend, and remain
Amongst mortals again.