I. <br />Lucasta wept, and still the bright <br /> Inamour'd god of day, <br />With his soft handkercher of light, <br /> Kist the wet pearles away. <br /> <br /> II. <br />But when her teares his heate or'ecame, <br /> In cloudes he quensht his beames, <br />And griev'd, wept out his eye of flame, <br /> So drowned her sad streames. <br /> <br /> III. <br />At this she smiled, when straight the sun <br /> Cleer'd by her kinde desires; <br />And by her eyes reflexion <br /> Fast kindl'd there his fires.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lucasta-weeping/
