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Pours out deserved thanks in grateful praise : . But him the heav'nly Saviour soon doth raise, And bids him spend in joy, his never ending days. LXIX. The fair Eclecta, who with widow’d brow \/ Her absent Lord long mourn’d in sad array, Now silken linen + cloth'd like frozen snow, Whose silver spanglets sparkle 'gainst the day : This shining robe her Lord himself had wrought, While he her love with hundred presents sought, And it with many a wound, and many a torment bought ! LXX. And thus array'd, her heav'nly beauties shin'd (Drawing their beams from his most glorious face) Like to a precious Jaspert, pure refin'd, Which with a Crystal mix’d, much mends his grace: The golden stars a garland fair did frame To crown her locks; the Sun lay hid for shame, And yielded all his beams to her more glorious flame. LXXI. Ah! who that flame can tell ? Ah ! who can see * Enough is me with silence to admire; While bolder joy, and humble majesty In either cheek had kindled graceful fire: Long silent stood she, while her former fears And griefs run all away in sliding tears; That like a wat'ry sun her gladsome face appears. LXXII. At length when joys had left her closer heart, To seat themselves upon her thankful tongue: First in her eyes they sudden flashes dart,
* My hope, my love, my joy, my life, my bliss, (Whom to enjoy is Heav'n, but Hell to miss) What are the world's false joys, what Heav'ns true joys to this 2 LXXIII. Ah, dearest Lord ' does my rapt soul behold thee * Am I awake 2 and sure I do not dream Do these thrice blessed arms again infold thee * Too much delight makes true things feigned seem. Thee, thee I see; thou, thou thus folded art: For deep thy stamp is printed in my heart, And thousand ne'er feltjoys stream in each melting part.” LXXIV. Thus with glad sorrow did she plain her, Upon his neck a welcome load depending ; While He with equal joy did entertain her, Herself, her champions, highly all commending: So all in triumph to his palace' went ; Whose work in narrow words may not be pent: For boundless thought is less than is that glorious tent. LXXV. There sweet delights, which know nor end nor measure; No chance is there, nor eating times succeeding : No wasteful spending can impair their treasure; Pleasure full grown, yet ever freshly breeding: Fulness of sweets excludes not more receiving : The soul still big with joy, yet still conceiving ; sing. Beyond slow tongue's report, beyond quick thought's perceivLXXVI. There are they gone; there will they ever bide; Swimming in waves of joy, and heav'nly loves: He still a bridegroom, she a gladsome bride; Their hearts in love, like spheres still constant moving :
No change, no grief, no age can them befall: Their bridal bed is in that heav'nly hall, Where all days are but one, and only one is all. LXXVII. And as in state they thus in triumph ride, The boys and damsels their just praises chant ; The boys the bridegroom sing, the maids the bride, While all the hills glad Hymens loudly vaunt : Heav'ns winged hosts, greeting this glorious spring, Attune their higher notes, and Hymens sing: Each thought to pass, and each did pass thought's loftiest wing. LXXVIII. Upon His lightning brow Love proudly sitting Flames out in pow'r, shines out in majesty; There all his lofty spoils and trophies fitting ; Displays the marks of Highest Deity: There full of strength in Lordly arms he stands, And every heart, and every soul commands : No heart, no soul, his strength and Lordly pow'r withstands. LXXIX. “ Upon her forehead thousand cheerful Graces, Seated on thrones of spotless ivory; There gentle Love his armed hand unbraces; His bow unbent disclaims all tyranny; There by his play a thousand souls beguiles, Persuading more by simple modest smiles, Than ever he could force by arms, or crafty wiles. LXXX. Upon her cheek doth Beauty's self implant, The freshest garden of her choicest flow’rs : . On which if Envy might but glance ascant, . . . . . . . . Her eyes would swell, and burst, and melt in show’rs:
Thrice fairer both than ever fairest ey'd : Heav'n never such a bridegroom yet descry’d ; Nor ever Earth so fair, soundefil’d a bride. LXXXI. Full of his Father shines his glorious face, As far the Sun surpassing in his light, As doth the Sun the Earth with flaming blaze: Sweet influence streams from his quick’ning sight: His beams from nought did all this All display ; And when to less than nought they fell away, He soon restor'd again by his new orient ray. LXXXII. All Heav'n shines forth in her sweet face's frame : Her seeing stars (which we miscal bright eyes) More bright than is the morning's brightest flame, More fruitful than the May-time Geminies: These, back restore the timely summer's fire; Those, springing thoughts in winter hearts inspire, Inspiriting dead souls, and quick’ning warm desire. LXXXIII. These two fair Suns in heav'nly spheres are plac'd, Where in the centre, joy triumphing sits : Thus in all high perfections fully grac'd, Her mid-day bliss no future night admits; But in the mirrors of her Spouse's eyes Her fairest self she dresses ; there where lies All sweets, a glorious beauty to imparadise. - LXXXIV. His locks like raven's plumes, or shining jet, Fall down in curls along his ivory neck; Within their circlets hundred Graces set, And with love-knots their comely hangings deck :
His mighty shoulders, like that giant swain”, All heav'n and earth, and all in both sustain; Yet knows no weariness, nor feels oppressing pain. LXXXV. Her amber hair like to the sunny ray, With gold enamels fair the silver white; There heav'nly Loves their pretty sportings play, Firing their darts in that wide flaming light: Her dainty neck, spread with that silver mould, Where double beauty doth itself unfold, In th’ own fair silver shines, and borrow'd gold. LXXXVI. His breast a rock of purest alabaster, Were loves self-sailing, shipwreck’d often sitteth. Her’s a twin-rock, unknown, but to th’ ship-master; Which harbours him alone, all other splitteth. Where better could her love than here have nested Or he his thoughts than here more sweetly feasted Then both their love and thoughts in each are ever rested. LXXXVII. Run now you shepherd-swains; ah! run you thither Where this fair bridegroom leads the blessed way: And haste, you lovely maids, haste you together With this sweet bride, while yet the sun-shine day Guides your blind steps; while yet loud summons call, That every wood and hill resounds withal, Come Hymen, Hymen come, drest in thy golden pall. LXXXVIII. The sounding echo back the music flung, While heav'nly spheres unto the voices play’d. But lo! the day is ended with my song, And sporting bathes with that fair ocean maid: * Atlas.