When with the Virgin morning thou do'st rise, Crossing thy selfe; come thus to sacrifice: First wash thy heart in innocence, then bring Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing. Next to the Altar humbly kneele, and thence, Give up thy soule in clouds of frankinsence. Thy golden Censors fil'd with odours sweet, Shall make thy actions with their ends to meet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY GARDEN by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE SLAVE'S DREAM by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 93 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI GO NOW' by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS A COWBOY'S HOPELESS LOVE by JAMES BARTON ADAMS THE TEMPTATION OF OUR LORD: BALEUS PROLOCUTOR by JOHN BALE |