Emblemes (1635) and Hieroglyphikes (1638) [in the critical edition by John Horden] |
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| IX. | IX. CANTICLES VIII. I. |
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 | Emblemes (1635) and Hieroglyphikes (1638) |  |
IX. CANTICLES VIII. I.
O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the brest of my mother, I would find thee without, and I would kisse thee.
1
Come, come my blessed Infant, and immure theeWithin the Temple of my sacred Armes;
Secure mine Armes; mine Armes shall, then, secure thee
From Herods fury, or the High Priests Harmes;
Or if thy danger'd life sustaine a losse,
My folded Armes shall turne they dying Crosse.
2
But, ah, what savage Tyrant can beholdThe beauty of so sweet a face as this is,
And not himselfe, be, by himselfe, controld,
And change his fury to a thousand kisses?
One smile of thine is worth more mines of treasure
Than there by Myriads in the days of Caesar.
3
O, had the Tetrarch, as he knew thy birth,So knowne thy Stock; he had not sought to paddle
In thy deare Blood; but, prostrate on the earth,
Had vayld his Crowne before thy royall Cradle,
And laid the Scepter of his Glory downe,
And beg'd a heav'nly for an earthly Crowne.
4
Illustrious Babe! How is thy Handmaid grac'dWith a rich Armefull! How doest thou decline
Thy Majesty, that wert, so late, embrac'd
In thy great Fathers Armes, and now, in mine!
How humbly gracious art thou, to refresh
Me with thy Spirit, and assume, my flesh.
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But must the Treason of a Traitors HaileAbuse the sweetnesse of these rubie lips?
Shall marble-hearted Cruelty assaile
These Alabaster sides with knotted whips?
And must these smiling Roses entertaine
The Blowes of scorne, and Flurts of base disdaine?
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Ah! must these dainty little sprigs that twineSo fast about my neck, be pierc'd and torne
With ragged nailes? And must these Browes resigne
Their Crowne of Glory for Crowne of thorne?
Ah, must this blessed Infant tast the paine
Of deaths injurious pangs? nay worse; be slaine?
7
Sweet Babe! At what deare rates do wretched ICommit a sin! Lord, ev'ry sin's a dart;
And ev'ry trespasse lets a javelin fly;
And ev'ry javelin wounds thy bleeding heart:
Pardon, sweet Babe, what I have done amisse,
And seale that granted pardon with a kisse.
BONAVENT. Soliloq. Cap. 1.
O sweet Jesu, I knew not that thy kisses were so sweet, nor thy society so delectable, nor thy Attraction so vertuous: For when I love thee, I am cleane: when I touch thee, I am chast; when I receive thee, I am a virgin: O most sweet Jesu, thy embraces defile not, but cleanse; thy attraction pollutes not, but sanctifies: O Jesu, the fountaine of universall sweetnesse, pardon me, that I believed so late, that so much sweetnesse is in thy embraces.
EPIGRAM 9.
[My burthen's greatest: Let not Atlas bost]
My burthen's greatest: Let not Atlas bost:Impartiall Reader, judge, which beares the most:
He beares but Heav'n; My folded Armes sustaine
Heav'ns Maker; whom heav'ns heav'n cannot containe.
| Emblemes (1635) and Hieroglyphikes (1638) | |