08.01.2011, 12:17
Sir David Murray
1567 - 1629
My Caelia sat once by a christal brooke,
Gazing how smoothly the cleere streams did slide,
Who had no sooner her sweet sight espi'd,
When with amazement they did on her looke.
The waters slyding by her seem'd to mourne,
Desirous stil for to behold her beauty,
Neglecting to the ocean their duty,
In thousand strange meanders made returne;
But oh! againe with what an heavenly tune,
Those pleasand streames that issued from the spring,
To see that goddesse did appeare to sing,
Whom having view'd did as the first had done.
if those pure streams delighted so to eye her,
Judge how my soule doth surfet when I see her.
1567 - 1629
My Caelia sat once by a christal brooke,
Gazing how smoothly the cleere streams did slide,
Who had no sooner her sweet sight espi'd,
When with amazement they did on her looke.
The waters slyding by her seem'd to mourne,
Desirous stil for to behold her beauty,
Neglecting to the ocean their duty,
In thousand strange meanders made returne;
But oh! againe with what an heavenly tune,
Those pleasand streames that issued from the spring,
To see that goddesse did appeare to sing,
Whom having view'd did as the first had done.
if those pure streams delighted so to eye her,
Judge how my soule doth surfet when I see her.