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O cheeks! Beds of chaste loves,
O sweet contest! of woes
With loves; of tears with smiles disputing!
Each other kissing and confuting!
But can these fair floods be
Friends with the bosom-fires that fill thee!
Eternal tears should thus distil thee!
O floods! O fires! O suns! O showers!
Mixed and made friends by Love's sweet powers.
'Twas his well-pointed dart
That digged these wells, and dressed this vine; 110 And taught the wounded heart
The way into these weeping eyne.
Vain loves avaunt! bold hands forbear!
The Lamb hath dipped His white foot here.
And now where'er He strays,
O thou, thy Lord's fair store!
Who is that King, but He
Who call'st His crown, to be called thine,
Waited on by a wandering mine,
A voluntary mint, that strews
Warm, silver showers where'er He goes?
O precious prodigal !
Fair spendthrift of thy self! thy measure (Merciless love!) is all.
Even to the last pearl in thy threasure:
Does the day-star rise?
Does thy song lull the air?
At these thy weeping gates
Time, as by thee He passes,
By them His steps He rectifies.
Not, "so long she lived,"
So do perfumes expire,
So sigh tormented sweets, oppress'd
Such tears the suffering rose, that's vexed
Say, ye bright brothers,
The fugitive sons of those fair eyes,
Your fruitful mothers!
What make you here? what hopes can 'tice
Whither away so fast?
For sure the sluttish earth
Your sweetness cannot taste,
Nor does the dust deserve your birth. Sweet, whither haste you then? O say Why you trip so fast away?
We go not to seek
The darlings of Aurora's bed,
Much less mean we to trace
A HYMN TO THE NAME AND HONOUR OF THE ADMIRABLE SAINT TERESA :
LOVE, thou art absolute sole lord
Of life and death. To prove the word
We'll now appeal to none of all
FOUNDRESS OF THE REFORMATION OF THE DISCALCED CARMELITES, BOTH MEN AND WOMEN;
A Woman for angelical height of speculation, for masculine courage of performance, more than a woman, who yet a child outran maturity, and durst plot a martyrdom.