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# VENYS AND ADONIS. Here ouercōme as one full of dīśpaire, She vaild her eye-lids, who like ślūces śtopē The chīṣṭall tide, that from her two cheeks faire, In the śwēet channell of her bośome dropt. But through the floud-gates breaks the ślūer rain, And with his strong course opens them againe. O how her eyes, and teares, did lend, and borrow, Her eye seene in the teares, teares in her eye, Both chīṣṭals, where they viewd ech others sorrow: Sorrow, that friendly sighs sought still to drye, But like a stormie day, now wind, now raine, Sighs drie her cheeks, tears make the wet againe. Variable passions through her constant wo, As śtiuing who should best become her griefe, All entertaind, ech passion labours so, That euerie present sorrow seemeth chiefe, But none is best, then iōyne they all together, Like many clouds, consulting for foule weather. By this farre off, she hears some huntsman hallow, A nourse song nere pleasd her babe so well, The dyre imagination she did follow, This sound of hope doth labour to expell, For now reuiuing iōy bids her reioyce, And flatters her, it is Adonis voyce. G II. 955—978
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