OF THE MARRIAGE OF THE DWARFS.[1]
Reading edition
OF THE MARRIAGE OF THE DWARFS.[1]
Design, or chance, makes others wive; But Nature did this match contrive; Eve might as well have Adam fled, As she denied her little bed To him, for whom Heaven seemed to frame, And measure out, this only dame.
Thrice happy is that humble pair, Beneath the level of all care! Over whose heads those arrows fly Of sad distrust and jealousy; 10 Secured in as high extreme, As if the world held none but them.
To him the fairest nymphs do show Like moving mountains, topp'd with snow; And every man a Polypheme Does to his Galatea seem; None may presume her faith to prove; He proffers death that proffers love.
Ah, Chloris! that kind Nature thus From all the world had severed us; 20 Creating for ourselves us two, As love has me for only you!
[1] 'Dwarfs': Gibson and Shepherd, each three feet ten inches in height. They were pages at Court, and Charles I. gave away the female infinitesimal.