XLIV. Francis Davison

WHAT is so sweete, so amiable,

As brother’s love vnfeyn’d?

Whose hearts in bands inviolable

Of concord are enchayn’d?

Its like vnto that pretious oyntment

Whose odour far did spread,

Vs’d to embalme, by God’s appoyntment,

The high priest Aron’s head:

Whence in a fragrant shower descending,

It deaw’d his beard and face;

Then to his robes his sweetnes lending,

About his skirts did trace.

Or to the deawe wherewith gray morning

Empearles mount Hermon’s head,

His greenes with peckled flowers adorning,

Artlessly diap’red;

From Hermon to mount Sion powring

His fertill riuolets,

And all engreening and enflowering

Those pleasant mountaynets.

Where this love-knot remaines vnbroken,

God heapes of blisse doth send;

Yea, heauenly blisse it doth betoken,

Exempt from change or end.