Into Love's arms thou shalt let fall A still-surviving funeral. His is the dart must make the death Whose stroke shall taste thy hallowed breath ; It shines; and with a sovereign ray Of souls which in that Name's sweet graces So spiritual, pure, and fair Must be th' immortal instrument Upon whose choice point shall be sent A life so loved: and that there be Fit executioners for thee, The fairest and first-born sons of fire, O how oft shalt thou complain Of a death, in which who dies Loves his death, and dies again, And would for ever so be slain. And lives, and dies; and knows not why. To live, but that he thus may never leave to die. How kindly will thy gentle heart And melt thy soul's sweet mansion; Shalt thou exhale to Heaven at last O what? Ask not the tongues of men ; Thyself shall feel thine own full joys, Immortal welcomes wait for thee. O what delight, when revealed Life shall stand, And teach thy lips Heaven with His hand; On which thou now may'st to thy wishes Heap up thy consecrated kisses. What joys shall seize thy soul, when she, (Those second smiles of Heaven,) shall dart Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee, Shall own thee there; and all in one Of crowns, with which the King thy Spouse All thy old woes shall now smile on thee, All thy sorrows here shall shine, All thy sufferings be divine: Tears shall take comfort, and turn gems, And wrongs repent to diadems. Even thy death shall live; and new Dress the soul, that erst he slew. Thy wounds shall blush to such bright scars As keep account of the Lamb's wars. Those rare works where thou shalt leave writ Love's noble history, with wit Taught thee by none but Him, while here Shall flourish on thy brows, and be Thou shalt look round about, and see Of thousand souls, whose happy names An Apology For The Fore-Going Hymn, AS HAVING BEEN WRIT WHEN THE AUTHOR WAS YET THUS have I back again to thy bright name, That hopeful maxim gave me heart to try Speak Heav'n like her's, is my soul's countryman. |