What's that we see from far? the spring of day
Bloomed from the east, or fair enjewelled May
Blown out of April, or some new
Star filled with glory to our view,
Reaching at heaven,
To add a nobler planet to the seven?
Say, or do we not descry
Some goddess in a cloud of tiffany
To move, or rather the
Emergent Venus from the sea?

'Tis she! 'Tis she! or else some more divine
Enlightened substance; mark how from the shrine
Of holy saints she paces on,
Treading upon vermilion
And amber, spice-
ing the chafed air with fumes of Paradise.
Then come on, come on, and yield
A savour like unto a blessed field,
When the bedabbled morn
Washes the golden ears of corn.

See where she comes, and smell how all the street,
Breathes vineyards and pomegranates: oh, how sweet!
As a fired altar is each stone,
Perspiring pounded cinnamon.
The phoenix-nest,
Built up of odours, burneth in her breast.
Who therein would not consume
His soul to ash-heaps in that rich perfume,
Bestroking Fate the while
He burns to embers on the pile?

Hymen, O Hymen! Tread the sacred ground;
Show thy white feet, and head with marjoram crowned;
Mount up thy flames, and let thy torch
Display the bridegroom in the porch,
In his desires
More towering, more disparkling than thy fires;
Show her how his eyes do turn
And roll about, and in their motions burn
Their balls to cinders; haste,
Or else to ashes he will waste.

Glide by the banks of virgins, then, and pass
The showers of roses, lucky four-leaved grass,
The while the cloud of younglings sing,
And drown ye with a flowery spring;
While some repeat
Your praise, and bless you, sprinkling you with wheat;
While that others do divine,
Blest is the bride on whom the sun doth shine;
And thousands gladly wish
You multiply, as doth a fish.

And beauteous bride we do confess y'are wise
In dealing forth these bashful jealousies:
In Love's name do so, and a price
Set on yourself by being nice;
But yet take heed:
What now you seem, be not the same indeed,
And turn apostate; Love will
Part of the way be met or sit stone-still.
On, then, and though you slow-
ly go, yet, howsoever, go.

And now y'are entered; see, the coddled cook
Runs from his torrid zone to pry, and look,
And bless his dainty mistress; see,
The aged point out, "This is she,
Who now must sway
The house (Love shield her) with her yea and nay';
And the smirk butler thinks it
Sin, in's nap'ry, not to express his wit:
Each striving to devise
Some gin wherewith to catch your eyes.

To bed, to bed, kind turtles, now, and write
This the short'st day, and this the longest night,
But yet too short for you; 'tis we
Who count this night as long as three,
Lying alone,
Telling the clock strike ten, eleven, twelve, one.
Quickly, quickly then prepare,
And let the young men and the bridemaids share
Your garters, and their joints
Encircle with the bridegroom's points.

By the bride's eyes, and by the teeming life
Of her green hopes, we charge ye, that no strife
(Farther than gentleness tends) gets place
Among ye, striving for her lace:
O do not fall
Foul in these noble pastimes, lest ye call
Discord in, and so divide
The youthful bridegroom and the fragrant bride,
Which Love forfend! but spoken
Be't to your praise, no peace was broken.

Strip her of springtime, tender-whimpering maids,
Now autumn's come, when all these flowery aids
Of her delays must end; dispose
That lady-smock, that pansy, and that rose
Neatly apart;
But for prick-madam and for gentle-heart,
And soft maiden's-blush, the bride
Makes holy these; all others lay aside:
Then strip her, or unto her
Let him come who dares undo her.

And to enchant ye more, see everywhere
About the roof a siren in a sphere
(As we think), singing to the din
Of many a warbling cherubin:
O mark ye how
The soul of nature melts in numbers; now
See, a thousand Cupids fly,
To light their tapers at the bride's bright eye.
To bed, or her they'll tire,
Were she an element of fire.

And to your more bewitching, see the proud,
Plump bed bear up, and swelling like a cloud,
Tempting the two too modest; can
Ye see it brustle like a swan,
And you be cold
To meet it when it woos and seems to fold
The arms to hug you? Throw, throw
Yourselves into the mighty overflow
Of that white pride, and drown
The night with you in floods of down.

The bed is ready, and the maze of love
Looks for the treaders; everywhere is wove
Wit and new mystery; read, and
Put in practice, to understand
And know each wile,
Each hieroglyphic of a kiss or smile;
And do it to the full; reach
High in your own conceit, and some way teach
Nature and art one more
Play than they ever knew before.

If needs we must, for ceremony's sake,
Bless a sack posset, luck go with it; take
The night-charm quickly; you have spells,
And magics for to end, and hells
To pass; but such
And of such torture as no one would grutch
To live therein for ever: fry
And consume, and grow again to die,
And live, and in that case
Love the confusion of the place.

But since It must be done, dispatch, and sew
Up in a sheet your bride, and what if so
It be with rock, or walls of brass,
Ye tower her up, as Danae was;
Think you that this
Or hell itself a powerful bulwark is?
I tell ye no; but like a
Bold bolt of thunder he will make his way,
And rend the cloud, and throw
The sheet about like flakes of snow.

All now is hushed in silence; Midwife-Moon,
With all her owl-eyed issue; begs a boon
Which you must grant, that's entrance; with
Which extract all we can call pith
And quintessence
Of planetary bodies; so commence
All fair constellations
Looking upon ye, that two nations
Springing from two such fires
May blaze the virtue of their sires.