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Rise, youths! Love's right claims more than banquets;
Now the bright marygolds, that deck the skies,
To his flowers here, ope when he shuts his eye,
Rise, virgins! let fair nuptial loves infold
Your fruitless breasts: the maidenheads ye hold
Are not your own alone, but parted are;
And that a third part is: so must you save
Your loves a third, and you your thirds must have.
Herewith the amorous spirit, that was so kind To Teras' hair, and comb'd it down with wind,
Still as it, comet-like, brake from her brain,
Out of their sights: the turning of her back
But much wrung* Hero stood Hell's blackest dart:
* much-rong, edit. 1606, much-wrong'd, edit. 1637
THE END OF THE FIFTH SESTY AD.
The Argument of the Sixth Sestyað.
Leucote flies to all the winds,
And from the Fates their outrage blinds,
Her torch blown out: grief casts her down
* With art do stir, &c. edit. 1637.