 | The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet |  |
[19] The Conception
The glorious sunne forgetts his birth,
And couples with the humble earth,
Her wombe impregnates with warme showres,
Produceing fruites and flowres:
And couples with the humble earth,
Her wombe impregnates with warme showres,
Produceing fruites and flowres:
This an unequall match may seeme:
Then what was that? when Jesse's stemme,
Was overshadow'd from above,
Courted by divine love:
Then what was that? when Jesse's stemme,
Was overshadow'd from above,
Courted by divine love:
Here Immortality vouchsaf'd
On mortall stocke to bee ingraff'd,
And Jesse's roote produc'd a rodde,
Even Jesus, our great God.
On mortall stocke to bee ingraff'd,
And Jesse's roote produc'd a rodde,
Even Jesus, our great God.
Th' Egyptian Gods in Gardens grew,
False were their Gods: But ours is true,
From Heaven, transplanted to the bed,
Of a pure Maydenhead.
False were their Gods: But ours is true,
From Heaven, transplanted to the bed,
Of a pure Maydenhead.
This is a plant which never dyes,
A med'cine for all maladyes,
A Tree of life, whose fruite is blisse,
(Lord) let me taste of this.
A med'cine for all maladyes,
A Tree of life, whose fruite is blisse,
(Lord) let me taste of this.
| The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet | |