Have you seene him whom my soule loveth? When I had past a little from them,
then I found him, I took hold on him, and left him not.
1
What secret corner? What unwonted way
Has scap'd the ransack of my rambling thoughts?
The Fox by night, nor the dull Owle, by day,
Have never search'd those places I have sought,
Whilst thy lamented absence taught my brest
The ready Road to Griefe, without request;
My day had neither comfort, nor my night had rest:
2
How has my unregarded language vented
The sad Tautologies of lavish passion?
How often have I languish'd, unlamented!
How oft have I complain'd without compassion!
I asked the Citie-Watch; but some deny'd me
The common streit, whilst others would misguide me;
Some would debarre me; some, divert me; some, deride me.
3
Mark, how the widow'd Turtle, having lost
The faithfull partner of her loyall Heart,
Stretches her feeble wings from Coast to Coast,
Haunts ev'ry path; thinks ev'ry shade does part
Her absent Love, and her; At length, unsped,
She re-betakes her to her lonely Bed,
And there bewailes her everlasting widow-head;
4
So when my soule had progrest ev'ry place,
That love and deare affection could contrive;
I threw me on my Couch, resolv'd t'embrace
A death for him, in whom I ceas'd to live:
But there injurious Hymen did present
His Landskip joyes; my pickled eyes did vent
Full streames of briny teares; teares never to be spent.
5
Whilst thus my sorrow-wasting soule was feeding
Upon the rad'call Humour of her thought,
Ev'n whilst mine eyes were blind, and heart was bleeding,
He that was sought, unfound, was found, unsought;
As if the Sun should dart his Orbe of light
Into the secrets of the black-brow'd night,
Ev'n so appear'd my Love, my sole, my soules delight.
6
O how mine eyes, now ravish'd at the sight
Of my bright Sun, shot flames of equall fire!
Ah! how my soule, dissolv'd with ov'r-delight,
To re-enjoy the Crowne of chaste desire!
How sov'raigne joy depos'd and dispossest
Rebellious griefe! And how my ravisht brest—
But who can presse those heights, that cannot be exprest?
7
O how these Armes, these greedy Arms did twine,
And strongly twist about his yeelding wast!
The sappy branches of the Thespian vine
Nev'r cling'd their lesse beloved Elme so fast;
Boast not thy flames, blind boy, nor feather'd shot;
Let Himens easie snarles be quite forgot:
Time cannot quench our fires, nor death dissolve our knot.
ORIG. Hom. 10 in divers.
O most holy Lord, and sweetest Master, how good art thou to those that are
of upright heart, and humble spirit! O how blessed are they that seek thee with
a simple heart! How happy that trust in thee! It is a most certaine truth, that
thou lovest all that love thee, and never forsakest those that trust in thee:
For behold thy Love simply sought thee, and undoubtedly found thee: She trusted
in thee, and is not forsaken of thee, but hath obtained more by thee, than she
expected from thee.
BEDE in Cap. 3. Cant.
The longer I was in finding whom I sought, the more earnestly I held him
being found.
