Doubtless He will unload Himself some otherwhere, His precious sweets On the fair soul whom first He meets. O fair! O fortunate! O rich! O dear! Whose early love With winged vows, Makes haste to meet her morning Spouse, Seize her sweet prey, All fresh and fragrant as He rises, O let the blissful heart hold fast She shall have power To rifle and deflower The rich and roseal 1 spring of those rare sweets, What joy, what bliss, How many heavens at once it is To have her God become her Lover. 1 Sweet as a rose. TO THE SAME COUNSEL CONCERNING HER CHOICE DEAR, Heaven designèd soul, Of suitors that besiege your maiden breast And venture to speak one good word, Gilded dunghills, glorious lies; And deep disguises, Oaths of water, words of wind? Truth bids me say 'tis time you cease to trust Your soul to any son of dust. 'Tis time you listen to a braver love, Which from above Calls you up higher And bids you come And choose your room Among His own fair sons of fire; Where you among The golden throng, That watches at His palace doors, May pass along, And follow those fair stars of yours; Sweet, let me prophesy that at last 't will prove Lays up his purer and more precious vows, Nor love, nor labour can be lost; Of His high stratagem to win your heart: Kindly to cross you That, at the next remove Thence, He might toss you And strike your troubled heart Home to Himself, to hide it in His breast, Of love, of life, and everlasting rest. That thus shall wake Your wise soul, never to be won Now with a love below the sun. Your first choice fails; O when you choose again May it not be among the sons of men! 1 Timorously prudent. DESCRIPTION OF A RELIGIOUS HOUSE AND CONDITION OF LIFE1 N° (OUT OF BARCLAY) O roofs of gold o'er riotous tables shining, No sails of Tyrian silk, proud pavements sweeping, That chaste and cheap, as the few clothes we wear; Obedient slumbers, that can wake and weep, may, 1 One may call to mind in reading this poem that Crashaw was a friend of Nicholas Ferrar, who had a house known to cavillers as the "Protestant nunnery" at Little Gidding during the reigns of James 1. and Charles 1. This place was destroyed by the Rebels in 1646. And work for work, not wages; let to-morrow's But neither are there those ignoble stings No cruel guard of diligent cares, that keep And soft obedience, find sweet biding here; pure joys; Kind loves keep house, lie close, and make no noise; And room enough for monarchs, while none swells Beyond the kingdoms of contentful cells. The self-rememb'ring soul sweetly recovers Her kindred with the stars; not basely hovers : Home to the original source of Light and intellectual day. ON MR. GEORGE HERBERT'S BOOK, ENTITLED, THE SACRED POEMS TEMPLE SENT TO A GENTLEWOMAN you KNOW you, fair, on what look? Divinest love lies in this book: Expecting fire from your fair eyes, When your hands untie these strings, OF |