VIII.

_Feasts and Revells._

But you are over-blest. Plenty this day Injures; it causeth time to stay; The tables groane, as though this feast Would, as the flood, destroy all fowle and beast. 185 And were the doctrine new That the earth mov'd, this day would make it true; For every part to dance and revell goes. They tread the ayre, and fal not where they rose. Though six houres since, the Sunne to bed did part, 190 The masks and banquets will not yet impart A sunset to these weary eyes, A Center to this heart.