The sun his iourney ending in the west

Taking his lodging vp in Thetis bed

Though from oure sightes his beames be banished

Yet with his light the Antipodes be blest.

Now when the same tyme brings my sun to rest

Which me so oft of rest hath hindered

And whiter skin with white sheete couered

And softer cheeke doth on softe pillow rest.

Then I Oh sun of suns and light of lights

Wish me with those Antipodes to be

Which see and feele thy beames and heate by night

Well though the night both cold and darksome is

Yet halfe the dayes delight the night grants me

I feele my suns heate though his light I misse.