Sonnet LV.

To Annibale Caraccioli,
_A WRITER OF ECLOGUES._
_Non Licida, ne Driope._
Lycoris, Lycidas, and Dryope
Cannot, dear Niblo, save thy name from death;
Shadows that fleet, and flowers that yield their breath,
Match not the Love that craves infinity.
The beauty thou dost worship dwells in thee:
Within thy soul divine it harboureth:
This also bids my spirit soar, and saith
Words that unsphere for me heaven's harmony.
Make then thine inborn lustre beam and shine
With love of goodness; goodness cannot fail:
From God alone let praise immense be thine.
My soul is tired of telling o'er the tale
With men: she calls on thine: she bids thee go
Into God's school with tablets white as snow.