Strang, strang indeed. It rowell doth my heart With pegs of Greefe, and tents of greatest joy: When I wore Angells Glory in each part And all my skirts wore flashes of rich die Of Heavenly Colour, hedg'd in with rosie Reechs, A spider spit its Vomit on my Cheeks. This ranckling juyce bindg'd in its cursed stain Doth permeat both Soul and Body: soile And drench each Fibre, and infect each grain. Its ugliness swells over all the ile. Whose stain'd mishapen bulk's too high, and broad For th'Entry of the narrow gate to God. Ready to burst, thus, and to burn in hell: Now in my path I finde a Waybred spring Whose leafe drops balm that doth this venom quell And juyce's a Bath, that doth all stains out bring And sparkling beauty in the room convay. Lord feed me with this Waybred Leafe, I pray. My stain will out: and swelling swage apace. And holy Lusters on my shape appeare. All Rosie Buds: and Lilly flowers of grace Will grace my turfe with sweet sweet glory here. Under whose shades Angells will bathing play Who'l guard my Pearle to glory, hous'd in clay. Those Gates of Pearle, porter'd with Seraphims, On their carbuncle joynts will open wide. And entrance give me where all glory swims In to the Masters Joy, e're to abide. O sweet sweet thought. Lord take this praise though thin. And when I'm in't Ile tune an higher pin. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MR. HOUSMAN'S MESSAGE by EZRA POUND THE FRIENDLY WOOD by PAUL VALERY THE WORN WEDDING-RING by WILLIAM COX BENNETT THE BOOK OF MARTYRS by EMILY DICKINSON WHEN SHE COMES HOME by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY AMOR MUNDI by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |