My Deare Deare Lord! my Soul is damp Untun'd. My strings are fallen and their screw pins slipt. When I should play thy praise each grace perfumd My strings made fit with graces wax most slick. My notes that tune thy praise should, pleasantly, Will onely make an harish symphony. Thou gildest ore with sparkling Metaphors The Object thy Eternall Love fell on Which makes her glory shine 'bove brightest stars Carbuncling of the Skies Pavillion That pave that Crystal Roofe the Earth's Canopy With golden streaks, border'd with Pomell high. The inward Tacles and the outward Traces Shine with the Varnish of the Holy Ghost Are th'Habit and the Exercise of Graces Sent out with glorifying a part an host. Yea every part from leg to toe do shine Or Rather from the toe to th'top Divine. Thus waring of the sparkling shine most bright, Of Sanctifying Grace in every part She is an Object of thy blesst delight That with her beauty doth attack thy heart. Hence in her galleries thou'rt held, thy Eye Detains thyselfe surprised with such joy. Then make me Lord a member of thy Spouse Thus Varnisht with thy spirit, a part of Gold, A Toe, a Foot, a Navill, Nose or brows, An Arm, an Hand, a lock of hair, or fold All sparkling with thy Grace in brightest Rayes And golden Tunes I'l ever singing praise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRDS by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE GUARDIAN ANGEL (A PICTURE AT FANO) by ROBERT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: THE CHESSBOARD by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON ODE TO TOBACCO by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY HONEY DRIPPING FROM THE COMB by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 50 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE CHARWOMAN by GEORGE LAWRENCE ANDREWS POLYHYMNIA: SONNET TO LADY FALKLAND UPON HER GOING TO INTO IRELAND by WILLIAM BASSE |