I. Lucasta wept, and still the bright Inamour`d god of day, With his soft handkercher of light, Kist the wet pearles away. II. But when her teares his heate or`ecame, In cloudes he quensht his beames, And griev`d, wept out his eye of flame, So drowned her sad streames. III. At this she smiled, when straight the sun Cleer`d by her kinde desires; And by her eyes reflexion Fast kindl`d there his fires.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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