Canzon 27. Ne’er from a lofty pitch, hath made more speed

Anonymous

NE’ER from a lofty pitch, hath made more speed,

The feather-sailing Falcon to the lure;

Nor fairer stooped, when he on fist would feed,

Than I, ZEPHERIA! to thine eyes allure!

Ne’er from the deep, when winds declare a tempest,

Posts with more haste the little Halcion,

Nor faster hies him to some safer rest;

Than I have fled, from thy death-threatening frown!

Ne’er did the sun’s love-mate, the gold Hetropion

Smile more resplendent lustre on her Dear!

Nay, ever was his shine to her more welcome,

Than thine to me, when smiling was thy cheer!

But now, my sun! it fits thou take thy set!

And veil thy face with frowns, as with a frontlet!