She'll bargain with them, and will give
Them God; teach them how to live
In Him: or, if they this deny,
For Him she'll teach them how to die.
So shall she leave amongst them sown

Her Lord's blood; or at least her own.

Farewell then, all the World adieu! Teresa is no more for you.

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Farewell, all pleasures, sports, and joys

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(Never till now esteemèd toys)
[Farewell, whatever dear may be,]
Mother's arms, or father's knee:

Farewell house, and farewell home!
She's for the Moors, and martyrdom.

Sweet, not so fast! lo, thy fair Spouse,
Whom thou seek'st with so swift vows;
Calls thee back, and bids thee come
T'embrace a milder martyrdom.

Blest powers forbid, thy tender life
Should bleed upon a barbarous knife:
Or some base hand have power to rase
Thy breast's chaste cabinet, and uncase
A soul kept there so sweet: O no,
Wise Heaven will never have it so.
Thou art Love's victim; and must die
A death more mystical and high:
Into Love's arms thou shalt let fall

A still-surviving funeral.

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Of souls which in that Name's sweet graces
Find everlasting smiles: so rare,

So spiritual, pure, and fair

Must be th' immortal instrument

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To live, but that he thus may never leave to die.

O what delight, when revealed Life shall stand, And teach thy lips Heaven with His hand;

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On which thou now may'st to thy wishes
Heap up thy consecrated kisses.
What joys shall seize thy soul, when she,
Bending her blessed eyes on Thee,

(Those second smiles of Heaven,) shall dart

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Her mild rays through Thy melting heart.

Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee,

Glad at their own home now to meet thee.

They feed our souls, shall clothe thine there.
Each heavenly word, by whose hid flame
Our hard hearts shall strike fire, the same

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Shall flourish on thy brows, and be

Both fire to us and flame to thee;

Whose light shall live bright in thy face.
By glory, in our hearts by grace.

Thou shalt look round about, and see
Thousands of crown'd souls throng to be

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Themselves thy crown: sons of thy vows,

The virgin-births with which thy sovereign Spouse

Made fruitful thy fair soul. Go now

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And with them all about thee, bow
To Him; put on (He'll say,) put on
(My rosy love) that thy' rich zone
Sparkling with the sacred flames
Of thousand souls, whose happy names

Heaven keep upon thy score: (Thy bright
Life brought then first to kiss the light,
That kindled them to stars,) and so
Thou with the Lamb, thy' Lord, shalt go,
And whereso'er He sets His white

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Steps, walk with Him those ways of light,
Which who in death would live to see,
Must learn in life to die like thee.

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THE FLAMING HEART

UPON THE BOOK AND PICTURE OF THE SERAPHICAL SAINT TERESA,

AS SHE IS USUALLY EXPRESSED WITH A SERAPHIM BESIDE HER

WELL-MEANING readers! you that come as friends,

And catch the precious name this piece pretends;
Make not too much haste to admire

That fair-cheek'd fallacy of fire.
That is a seraphim, they say,
And this the great Teresia.
Readers, be ruled by me; and make
Here a well-placed and wise mistake;
You must transpose the picture quite,
And spell it wrong to read it right;
Read him for her, and her for him,
And call the saint the seraphim.

Painter, what didst thou understand

To put her dart into his hand?
See, even the years and size of him
Shows this the mother-seraphim.

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This. is the mistress-flame; and duteous he

Her happy fire-works, here, comes down to see.
O most poor-spirited of men!

Had thy cold pencil kiss'd her pen,

Thou couldst not so unkindly err

To show us this faint shade for her.

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Why, man, this speaks pure mortal frame;

And mocks with female frost Love's manly flame.

One would suspect thou meant'st to paint

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Some weak, inferior, woman-saint.

But had thy pale-faced purple took

Fire from the burning cheeks of that bright book,
Thou wouldst on her have heap'd up all

That could be form'd seraphical;

Whate'er this youth of fire wears fair,
Rosy fingers, radiant hair,

Glowing cheeks, and glist'ring wings,

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All those fair and fragrant things,

But before all, that fiery dart

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Had fill'd the hand of this great heart.

Do then, as equal right requires;

Since his the blushes be, and her's the fires,

(Fair youth) shoots both thy shaft and thee;