We must have store.

Goe, SOUL, out of thy Self, & seek for More.
Goe & request

Great NATURE for the KEY of her huge Chest
Of Heavns, the self involving Sett of Sphears
(Which dull mortality more Feeles then heares)
Then rouse the nest

Of nimble ART, & traverse round

The Aiery Shop of soul-appeasing Sound:
And beat a summons in the Same
All-soveraign Name

To warn each severall kind

And shape of sweetnes, Be they such
As sigh with supple wind
Or answer Artfull Touch,

That they convene & come away

To wait at the love-crowned Doores of
Th[i]s Illustrious DAY,

Shall we dare This, my Soul? we'l doe't and bring
No Other note for't, but the Name we sing.
Wake LUTE & HARP

And every sweet-lipp't Thing
That talkes with tunefull string;
Start into life, And leap with me.
Into a hasty Fitt-tun'd Harmony.
Nor must you think it much
T'obey my bolder touch;

I have Authority in Love's name to take you

And to the worke of Love this morning wake you;
Wake; In the Name

Of HIM who never sleeps, All Things that Are,
Or, what's the same,
Are Musicall;

Answer my Call

And come along;

Help me to meditate mine Immortall Song.
Come, ye soft ministers of sweet sad mirth,
Bring All your houshold stuffe of Heavn on earth;
O you, my Soul's most certain Wings,
Complaining Pipes, & prattling Strings,

Bring All the store

Of SWEETS you have; And murmur that you have no more.

Come, nére to part,
NATURE & ART!

Come; & come strong,

To the conspiracy of our Spatious song.
Bring All the Powres of Praise

Your Provinces of well-united WORLDS can raise ;

Bring All [your] LUTES & HARPS of HEAVN & EARTH;
What ére cooperates to The common mirthe
Vessells of vocall Joyes,

Or You, more noble Architects of Intellectuall Noise,
Cymballs of Heav'n, or Humane sphears,
Solliciters of SOULES or EARES;

And when you'are come, with All
That you can bring or we can call;
O may you fix

For ever here, & mix

Your selves into the long

And everlasting series of a deathlesse SONG;
Mix All your many WORLDS, Above,
And loose them into ONE of Love.

Chear thee my HEART!

For Thou too hast thy Part
And Place in the Great Throng

Of This unbounded All-imbracing SONG.
Powres of my Soul, be Proud!
And speake lowd

To All the dear-bought Nations This Redeeming Name,
And in the wealth of one Rich WORD proclaim
New Similes to Nature.

May it be no wrong

Blest Heavns, to you, & your Superiour song,
That we, dark Sons of Dust & Sorrow,
A while Dare borrow

The Name of Your Dilights & our Desires,
And fitt it to so farr inferior LYRES.
Our Murmurs have their Musick too,
Ye mighty ORBES, as well as you,
Nor yeilds the noblest Nest

Of warbling SERAPHIM to the eares of Love,
A choicer Lesson then the joyfull BREST
Of a poor panting Turtle-Dove.
And we, low Wormes have leave to doe

The Same bright Busynes (ye Third HEAVENS) with you.
Gentle SPIRITS, doe not complain.

We will have care
To keep it fair,

And send it back to you again.

Come, lovely NAME! Appeare from forth the Bright Regions of peacefull Light,

Look from thine own Illustrious Home,

Fair KING of NAMES, & come.

Leave All thy native Glories in their Georgeous Nest,
And give thy Self a while The gracious Guest
Of humble Soules, that seek to find

The hidden Sweets.

Which man's heart meets

When Thou art Master of the Mind.
Come, lovely Name; life of our hope!
Lo we hold our HEARTS wide ope!
Unlock thy Cabinet of DAY

Dearest Sweet, & come away.

Lo how the thirsty Lands

Gasp for thy Golden Showres! with longstretch't Hands.
Lo how the laboring EARTH
That hopes to be

All Heaven by THEE,
Leapes at thy Birth.

The' attending WORLD, to wait thy Rise,

First turn'd to eyes;

And then, not knowing what to doe;

Turn'd Them to TEARES, & spent Them too.
Come ROYALL Name, & pay the expence
Of All this Pretious Patience.

O come away
And kill the DEATH of This Delay.
O see, so many WORLDS of barren yeares
Melted & measur'd out in Seas of TEARES.
O see, The WEARY liddes of wakefull Hope

(LOVE's Eastern windowes) All wide ope With Curtains drawn,

To catch The Day-break of Thy DAWN.
O dawn, at last, long look't for Day!
Take thine own wings, & come away.
Lo, where Aloft it comes! It comes, Among
The Conduct of Adoring SPIRITS, that throng
Like diligent Bees, And swarm about it.
O they are wise;

And know what SWEETES are suck't from out it.
It is the Hive,

By which they thrive,

Where All their Hoard of Hony lyes.

Lo where it comes, upon The snowy Dove's
Soft Back; And brings a Bosom big with Loves.
WELCOME to our dark world, Thou

Womb of Day!

Unfold thy fair Conceptions; And display
The Birth of our Bright Joyes.

O thou compacted

Body of Blessings: spirit of Soules extracted!
O dissipate thy spicy Powres

(Clowd of condensed sweets) & break upon us
In balmy showrs;

O fill our senses, And take from us

All force of so Prophane a Fallacy

To think ought sweet but that which smells of Thee.

Fair, flowry Name; In none but Thee

And Thy Nectareall Fragrancy,

Hourly there meetes

An universall SYNOD of All sweets;
By whom it is defined Thus

That no Perfume

For ever shall presume

To passe for Odoriferous,

But such alone whose sacred Pedigree

Can prove it Self some kin (sweet name) to Thee.
SWEET NAME, in Thy each Syllable
A Thousand Blest ARABIAS dwell;
A Thousand Hills of Frankincense;

Mountains of myrrh, & Beds of species,
And ten Thousand PARADISES,

The soul that tasts thee takes from thence
How many unknown WORLDS there are
Of Comforts, which Thou hast in keeping!
How many Thousand Mercyes there
In Pitty's soft lap ly a sleeping!
Happy he who has the art

To awake them,

And to take them

Home, & lodge them in his HEART.

O that it were as it was wont to be!

When thy old Freinds of Fire, All full of Thee,
Fought against Frowns with smiles; gave Glorious chase
To Persecutions; And against the Face

Of DEATH & feircest Dangers, durst with Brave
And sober pace march on to meet A GRAve.

On their Bold BRESTS about the world they bore thee
And to the Teeth of Hell stood up to teach thee,
In Center of their inmost Soules they wore thee,
Where Rackes & Torments striv'd, in vain, to reach thee.
Little, alas, thought They

Who tore the Fair Brests of thy Freinds,
Their Fury but made way

For Thee; And serv'd them in Thy glorious ends.
What did Their weapons but with wider pores
Inlarge thy flaming-brested Lovers

More freely to transpire
That impatient Fire

The Heart that hides Thee hardly covers.

What did their Weapons but sett wide the Doores
For Thee: Fair, purple Doores, of love's devising;
The Ruby windowes which inrich't the EAST
Of Thy so oft repeated Rising.

Each wound of Theirs was Thy new Morning;
And reinthron'd thee in thy Rosy Nest,

With blush of thine own Blood thy day adorning,

It was the witt of love óreflowd the Bounds

Of WRATH, & made thee way through All Those WOUNDS. Wellcome dear, All-Adored Name!