Lucasta Paying Her Obsequies To The Chast Memory Of My Dear

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  I.
See! what an undisturbed teare
  She weepes for her last sleepe;
But, viewing her, straight wak'd a Star,
  She weepes that she did weepe.

  II.
Griefe ne're before did tyranize
  On th' honour of that brow,
And at the wheeles of her brave eyes
  Was captive led til now.

  III.
Thus, for a saints apostacy
  The unimagin'd woes
And sorrowes of the Hierarchy
  None but an angel knowes.

  IV.
Thus, for lost soules recovery
  The clapping of all wings
And triumphs of this victory
  None but an angel sings.

  V.
So none but she knows to bemone
  This equal virgins fate,
None but LUCASTA can her crowne
  Of glory celebrate.

  VI.
Then dart on me (CHAST LIGHT) one ray,
  By which I may discry
Thy joy cleare through this cloudy day
  To dresse my sorrow by.

© Richard Lovelace