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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419566" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Upon Phillis Walking In A Morning Before Sun-rising</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE sluggish morne as yet undrest, <br>My Phillis brake from out her East; <br>As if shee'd made a match to run <br>With Venus, Usher to the sun. <br>The Trees like yeomen of her guard,<br>Serving more for pomp then ward, <br>Rankt on each side with loyall duty, <br>Weave branches to enclose her beauty. <br>The Plants whose luxury was lopt, <br>Or age with crutches underpropt; <br>Whose wooden carkases are growne <br>To be but coffins of their owne; <br>Revive, and at her generall dole <br>Each receives his ancient soule: <br>The winged Choristers began <br>To chirp their Mattins: and the Fan <br>Of whistling winds like Organs plai'd, <br>Untill their Voluntaries made <br>The wakened earth in Odours rise <br>To be her morning Sacrifice. <br>The flowers, call'd out of their beds, <br>Start, and raise up their drowsie heads; <br>And he that for their colour seekes, <br>May find it vaulting in her cheekes, <br>Where Roses mixe: no Civil War <br>Betweene her Yorke and Lancaster. <br>The Marigold whose Courtiers face <br>Ecchoes the Sun, and doth unlace <br>Her at his rise, at his full stop <br>Packs and shuts up her gaudy shop, <br>Mistakes her cue, and doth display: <br>Thus Philis antedates the day. <br>These miracles had cramp't the Sunne, <br>Who thinking that his kingdom 's wonne, <br>Powders with light his freezled lockes, <br>To see what Saint his lustre mocks. <br>The trembling leaves through which he plai'd, <br>Dapling the walke with light and shade, <br>Like Lattice-windowes, give the spie <br>Roome but to peep with halfe an eye; <br>Lest her full Orb his sight should dim, <br>And bid us all good-night in him, <br>Till she would spend a gentle ray <br>To force us a new fashion'd day. <br>But what religious Paulsie 's this <br>Which makes the boughs divest their bliss? <br>And that they might her foot-steps strawe, <br>Drop their leaves with shivering awe? <br>Phillis perceives, and (least her stay <br>Should wed October unto May;<br>And as her beauty caus'd a Spring, <br>Devotion might an Autumne bring) <br>With-drew her beames, yet made no night, <br>But left the Sun her Curate-light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Cleveland">John Cleveland</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419566" data-title="Upon Phillis Walking In A Morning Before Sun-rising de John Cleveland" data-description="THE sluggish morne as yet undrest, 
My Phillis brake from out her East; 
As if shee'd made a match to run 
With Venus, Usher to the sun. 
The Trees like yeomen of her guard,
Serving more for pomp then ward, 
Rankt on each side with loyall duty, 
W..."></div>
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