Me thinkes I see faire Virtue readie stand, T'unlocke the closet of your lovely breast, Holding the key of Knowledge in her hand, Key of that Cabbine where your selfe doth rest To let him in, by whom her youth was blest: The true-love of your soule, your hearts delight, Fairer than all the world in your cleare sight. He that descended from celestiall glory, To taste of our infirmities and sorrowes, Whose heavenly wisdom read the earthly storie Of fraile Humanity, which his godhead borrows; Loe here he comes all stucke with pale deaths arrows: In whose most pretious wounds your soule may reade Salvation, while he (dying Lord) doth bleed. You whose cleare Judgement farre exceeds my skil, Vouchsafe to entertaine this dying lover, The Ocean of true grace, whose streames doe fill All those with Joy, that can his love recover; About this blessed Arke bright Angels hover: Where your faire soule may sure and safely rest, When he is sweetly seated in your brest. There may your thoughts as servants to your heart, Give true attendance on this lovely guest, While he doth to that blessed bowre impart Flowres of fresh comforts, decke that bed of rest, With such rich beauties as may make it blest. And you in whom all raritie is found, May be with his eternall glory crownd. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHRISMUS IS A-COMIN' by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE BIGLOW PAPERS: 6. THE PIOUS EDITOR'S CREED by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL JACK CREAMER [OCTOBER 25, 1812] by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE IMMORTALITY by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL THE BELLS OF YOUTH by WILLIAM SHARP BALLAD OF THE WOMEN OF PARIS by FRANCOIS VILLON LOVES MONARCHIE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |