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The Muses Sacrifice

[by John Davies]

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A desire of the louing Soule, of God, to be kissed with the kisse of Peace.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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A desire of the louing Soule, of God, to be kissed with the kisse of Peace.

Kisse me, ô kisse me, with Loues honyed Kisse,
ô dearest Loue, and sweet'st-Heart of my Soule:
Whose loue is like pure Wine that cordiall is;
& doth sowre cares, with Comforts sweet, controle

[71]

Thy Name is like to sweet suffused Balme;
which makes chast Soules eu'n sick for loue of thee:
Whose Passions (striuing in a blessed calme
on Sorrowes Seas) to thee still rowling be.
Draw me (deare Loue) then, after thee Ile runne
vpon the sent of thy diuine Perfumes:
My Loue's impatient (since it first begunne)
of this delay, which quite my Soule consumes:
Then, ô, delay no more to marry mee;
But wed my Soule that pines for loue of Thee.