And ye high heavens, the temple of the gods,
In which a thousand torches flaming bright 410
Doe burne, that to us wretched earthly clods
In dreadful darknesse lend desired light,
And all ye powers which in the same remayne,
More than we men can fayne,
Poure out your blessing on us plentiously, 415
And happy influence upon us raine,
That we may raise a large posterity,
Which from the earth, which they may long possesse
With lasting happinesse,
Up to your haughty pallaces may mount, 420
And for the guerdon of theyr glorious merit,
May heavenly tabernacles there inherit,
Of blessed saints for to increase the count. 
So let us rest, sweet Love, in hope of this,
And cease till then our tymely ioyes to sing:  425
The woods no more us answer, nor our eccho ring!

Song, made in lieu of many ornaments
With which my Love should duly have been dect,
Which cutting off through hasty accidents,
Ye would not stay your dew time to expect, 430
But promist both to recompens,
Be unto her a goodly ornament,
And for short time an endlesse moniment!

* * * * *

PROTHALAMION: 

OR,

A SPOUSALL VERSE,

MADE BY

EDM.  SPENSER.

IN HONOUR OF THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE OF THE TWO HONORABLE
AND VERTUOUS LADIES, THE LADIE ELIZABETH,
AND THE LADIE KATHERINE SOMERSET, DAUGHTERS
TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE EARLE
OF WORCESTER, AND ESPOUSED TO THE
TWO WORTHIE GENTLEMEN, M. HENRY
GILFORD AND M. WILLIAM PETER,
ESQUYERS.

(1596)

PROTHALAMION: 

OR,

A SPOUSALL VERSE.

Calme was the day, and through the trembling ayre
Sweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly play
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay*
Hot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre;
When I (whom sullein care,
Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay
In princes court, and expectation vayne
Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away
Like empty shadows, did afflict my brayne,)
Walkt forth to ease my payne 10
Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes;
Whose rutty** bank, the which his river hemmes,
Was paynted all with variable flowers,
And all the meades adornd with dainty gemmes,
Fit to decke maydens bowres, 15
And crowne their paramours
Against the brydale day, which is not long@: 
  Sweet Themmes! runne softly, till I end my song.
[* Delay, allay.]
[** Rutty, rooty.]
[@ Long, distant.]