Hymen, that now is god of nuptial rites,

      And crowns with honour Love and his delights,

      Of Athens was a youth, so sweet of face,

      That many thought him of the female race;

      Such quickening brightness did his clear eyes dart,

      Warm went their beams to his beholder's heart,

      In such pure leagues his beauties were combin'd,

      That there your nuptial contracts first were signed;

      For as proportion, white and crimson, meet

      In beauty's mixture, all right clear and sweet,

      The eye responsible, the golden hair,

      And none is held, without the other, fair;

      All spring together, all together fade;

      Such intermix'd affections should invade

      Two perfect lovers; which being yet unseen,

      Their virtues and their comforts copied been

      In beauty's concord, subject to the eye;

      And that, in Hymen, pleased so matchlessly,

      That lovers were esteemed in their full grace,

      Like form and colour mixed in Hymen's face;

      And such sweet concord was thought worthy then

      Of torches, music, feasts, and greatest men:

      So Hymen look'd that even the chastest mind

      He mov'd to join in joys of sacred kind;

      For only now his chin's first down consorted

      His head's rich fleece in golden curls contorted;

      And as he was so loved, he loved so too:

      So should best beauties bound by nuptials, do.

      Bright Eucharis, who was by all men said

      The noblest, fairest, and the richest maid

      Of all th' Athenian damsels, Hymen lov'd

      With such transmission, that his heart remov'd

      From his white breast to hers: but her estate,

      In passing his, was so interminate

      For wealth and honour, that his love durst feed

      On naught but sight and hearing, nor could breed

      Hope of requital, the grand prize of love;

      Nor could he hear or see, but he must prove

      How his rare beauty's music would agree

      With maids in consort; therefore robbèd he

      His chin of those same few first fruits it bore,

      And, clad in such attire as virgins wore,

      He kept them company, and might right well,

      For he did all but Eucharis excel

      In all the fair of beauty! yet he wanted

      Virtue to make his own desires implanted

      In his dear Eucharis; for women never

      Love beauty in their sex, but envy ever.

      His judgment yet, that durst not suit address,

      Nor, past due means, presume of due success,

      Reason gat Fortune in the end to speed

      To his best prayers95: but strange it seemed, indeed,

      That Fortune should a chaste affection bless:

      Preferment seldom graceth bashfulness.

      Nor grac'd it Hymen yet; but many a dart,

      And many an amorous thought, enthralled96 his heart,

      Ere he obtained her; and he sick became,

      Forced to abstain her sight; and then the flame

      Raged in his bosom. O, what grief did fill him!

      Sight made him sick, and want of sight did kill him.

      The virgins wonder'd where Diætia stay'd,

      For so did Hymen term himself, a maid.

      At length with sickly looks he greeted them:

      Tis strange to see 'gainst what an extreme stream

      A lover strives; poor Hymen look'd so ill,

      That as in merit he increasèd still

      By suffering much, so he in grace decreas'd:

      Women are most won, when men merit least:

      If Merit look not well, Love bids stand by;

      Love's special lesson is to please the eye.

      And Hymen soon recovering all he lost,

      Deceiving still these maids, but himself most,

      His love and he with many virgin dames,

      Noble by birth, noble by beauty's flames,

      Leaving the town with songs and hallow'd lights

      To do great Ceres Eleusina rites

      Of zealous sacrifice, were made a prey

      To barbarous rovers, that in ambush lay,

      And