XVI.

O cheeks! Beds of chaste loves,
By your own showers seasonably dashed.
Eyes! Nests of milky doves,
In your own wells decently washed.
O wit of Love! that thus could place
Fountain and garden in one face.

XVII.

O sweet contest! of woes

With loves; of tears with smiles disputing!
O fair and friendly foes,

Each other kissing and confuting!
While rain and sunshine, cheeks and eyes
Close in kind contrarieties.

XVIII.

But can these fair floods be

Friends with the bosom-fires that fill thee!
Can so great flames agree

Eternal tears should thus distil thee!

O floods! O fires! O suns! O showers!

Mixed and made friends by Love's sweet powers.

XIX.

95

100

105

'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.

XX.

And now where'er He strays,
Among the Galilean mountains,
Or more unwelcome ways;
He's followed by two faithful fountains;
Two walking baths, two weeping motions,
Portable, and compendious oceans.

XXI.

O thou, thy Lord's fair store!
In thy so rich and rare expenses,
Even when He showed most poor
He might provoke the wealth of princes.
What Prince's wanton'st pride e'er could
Wash with silver, wipe with gold?

XXII.

Who is that King, but He

Who call'st His crown, to be called thine,
That thus can boast to be

Waited on by a wandering mine,

A voluntary mint, that strews

Warm, silver showers where'er He goes?

XXIII.

O precious prodigal !

Fair spendthrift of thy self! thy measure (Merciless love!) is all.

Even to the last pearl in thy threasure:
All places, times, and objects be
Thy tears' sweet opportunity.

115

120

125

130

135

XXIV.

Does the day-star rise?
Still thy tears do fall and fall.
Does Day close his eyes?
Still the fountain weeps for all.
Let Night or Day do what they will,
Thou hast thy task: thou weepest still.

XXV.

Does thy song lull the air?
Thy falling tears keep faithful time.
Does thy sweet-breath'd prayer
Up in clouds of incense climb?
Still at each sigh, that is, each stop,
A bead, that is, a tear, does drop.

XXVI.

At these thy weeping gates
(Watching their watery motion),
Each winged moment waits :
Takes his tear, and gets him gone.
By thine eyes' tinct ennobled thus,
Time lays him up; he's precious.

XXVII.

Time, as by thee He passes,
Makes thy ever-watery eyes
His hour-glasses.

By them His steps He rectifies.
The sands He used, no longer please,
For His own sands He'll use thy seas.

E

140

145

150

155

160

XXVIII.

Not, "so long she lived,"
Shall thy tomb report of thee;
But, "so long she grieved:"
Thus must we date thy memory.
Others by moments, months, and years
Measure their ages; thou, by tears.

XXIX.

So do perfumes expire,

So sigh tormented sweets, oppress'd
With proud unpitying fire.

Such tears the suffering rose, that's vexed
With ungentle flames, does shed,
Sweating in a too warm bed.

XXX.

Say, ye bright brothers,

The fugitive sons of those fair eyes,

Your fruitful mothers!

What make you here? what hopes can 'tice
You to be born? what cause can borrow
You from those nests of noble sorrow?

XXXI.

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?

XXXII.

We go not to seek

The darlings of Aurora's bed,
The rose's modest cheek,
Nor the violet's humble head.
Though the field's eyes too Weepers be,
Because they want such tears as we.

XXXIII.

Much less mean we to trace
The fortune of inferior gems,
Preferred to some proud face,
Or perched upon feared diadems:
Crowned heads are toys. We go to meet
A worthy object, our Lord's feet.

XI.

190

A HYMN TO THE NAME AND HONOUR OF THE ADMIRABLE SAINT TERESA :

195

LOVE, thou art absolute sole lord

Of life and death. To prove the word

We'll now appeal to none of all
Those thy old soldiers, great and tall,

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.