home | index | concordance | composite list of variants | help |
Thy firmnesse makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
The Extasie.
Where, like a pillow on a bed,
A Pregnant banke swell'd up, to rest
The violets reclining head,
Sat we two, one anothers best;
Our hands were firmely cimented
By a fast balme, which thence did spring,
Our eye-beames twisted, and did thred
Our eyes upon one double string,
So to engraft our hands, as yet
Was all the meanes to make us one,
And pictures in our eyes to get
Was all our propagation.
As 'twixt two equall Armies, Fate
Suspends uncertaine victory,
Our soules, (which to advance our state,
Were gone out, hung 'twixt her and me.
And whil'st our soules negotiate there,
We like sepulchrall statues lay,
All day, the same our postures were,
And we said nothing, all the day.
If any, so by love refin'd,
That he soules language understood,
And by good love were growne all minde,
Within convenient distance stood,
He (though he knew not which soule spake,

[CW: Because]