Bathsheba's Song

Hot sun, cool fire, tempered with sweet air, Black shade, fair nurse, shadow my white hair. Shine, sun; burn, fire; breathe, air, and ease me; Black shade, fair nurse, shroud me and please me; Shadow, my sweet nurse, keep me from burning, Make not my glad cause cause of mourning. Let not my beauty's fire Inflame unstaid desire, Nor pierce any bright eye That wand'reth lightly.