The synagogue, or, the shadow of the temple Sacred poems, and private ejaculations. In imitation of Mr George Herbert [by Christopher Harvey] |
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 | The synagogue, or, the shadow of the temple |  |
The Losse.
The match is made
between my love and me:
And therefore glad
and merry now I'le be.
Come Glorie, crowne
my head,
and pleasures drowne
my bed
of thornes in downe.
Sorrow be gone,
delight
and joy alone
befit my honey moone.
Be packing now
you comb'rous Cares and Feares:
Mirth will allow
no roome to sighs and teares.
between my love and me:
And therefore glad
and merry now I'le be.
Come Glorie, crowne
my head,
and pleasures drowne
my bed
of thornes in downe.
Sorrow be gone,
delight
and joy alone
befit my honey moone.
Be packing now
you comb'rous Cares and Feares:
Mirth will allow
no roome to sighs and teares.
Whilst thus I lay
as ravisht with delight,
I heard one say,
so fooles their friends requite.
I knew the voyce,
my Lords;
and at the noise
his words
did make, arose.
I lookt and spied
each where,
and lowdly cry'd,
my deare;
but none reply'd.
Then to my griefe
I found my love was gone,
Without reliefe,
leaving me all alone.
as ravisht with delight,
I heard one say,
so fooles their friends requite.
21
my Lords;
and at the noise
his words
did make, arose.
I lookt and spied
each where,
and lowdly cry'd,
my deare;
but none reply'd.
Then to my griefe
I found my love was gone,
Without reliefe,
leaving me all alone.
| The synagogue, or, the shadow of the temple | |