Love. Ove bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guiltie of dust and sinne. But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning, A guest, I answer'd, worthy to be here: I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah my deare, Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, Truth Lord, but I have marr❜d them: let my shame And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame? You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat: George Herbert. JOB XIII. XXIV. Wherefore hidest thou thy face, and boldest me for thy enemie? W Hy dost thou shade thy lovely face? O why Does that ecclipsing hand, so long, deny The Sun-shine of thy soule-enliv'ning eye? Without that Light, what light remaines in me? Thou art my Life; If thou but turne away, My Light thou art; without thy glorious sight, Thou art my Way; I wander, if thou flie: Mine eyes are blind and darke, I cannot see ; My path is lost; my wandring steps do stray; Whom should I seek but Thee, my Path, my Way? O, I am dead: To whom shall I, poore I, And yet thou turn'st away thy face, and fly'st me; Unskreene those heav'nly lamps, or tell me why If that be all, shine forth, and draw thee nigher; IO 20 30 Death-conquer'd Laz'rus was redeem'd by Thee; If my pufft light be out, give leave to tine If I have lost my Path, great Shepheard, say, Thou art the Pilgrims Path; the blind mans Eye; Disclose thy Sun-beames; close thy wings, and stay; O thou, that art my Light, my Life, my Way. Francis Quarles. CANTICLES II. XVI. My beloved is mine, and I am his; He feedeth among the Lillies. V'n like two little bank-dividing brookes, E That wash the pebles with their wanton streames, And having rang'd and search'd a thousand nookes, So I 40 Ev'n so we met; and after long pursuit, Ev'n so we joyn'd; we both became entire; No need for either to renew a Suit, For I was Flax and he was Flames of fire: Our firm united soules did more than twine ; So I my Best-Beloveds am; so He is mine. If all those glittring Monarchs that command Their wealth is but a Counter to my Coyne; Nay, more; If the fair Thespian Ladies all Should heap together their diviner treasure: That Treasure should be deem'd a price too small To buy a minutes Lease of half my Pleasure; "Tis not the sacred wealth of all the Nine Can buy my heart from Him; or His, from being mine. Nor Time, nor Place, nor Chance, nor Death can bow Hee's firmely mine by Oath; I, His, by Vow; He is my Altar; I, his Holy Place; I am his Guest; and he, my living Food; am; ΙΟ 20 30 |