Vpon the book and Picture of the seraphicall saint Teresa, (as she is vsvally expressed with a Seraphim biside her)
WELL meaning readers! you that come as freinds | |
| And catch the pretious name this peice pretends; | |
| Make not too much hast to’ admire | |
| That fair-cheek’t fallacy of fire. | |
| That is a Seraphim, they say | 5 |
| And this the great Teresia. | |
| Readers, be rul’d by me; and make | |
| Here a well-plac’t and wise mistake. | |
| You must transpose the picture quite, | |
| And spell it wrong to read it right; | 10 |
| Read Him for her, and her for him; | |
| And call the Saint the Seraphim. | |
| Painter, what didst thou understand | |
| To put her dart into his hand! | |
| See, even the yeares and size of him | 15 |
| Showes this the mother Seraphim. | |
| This is the mistresse flame; and duteous he | |
| Her happy fire-works, here, comes down to see. | |
| O most poor-spirited of men! | |
| Had thy cold Pencil kist her Pen | 20 |
| Thou couldst not so unkindly err | |
| To show us This faint shade for Her. | |
| Why man, this speakes pure mortall frame; | |
| And mockes with female Frost love’s manly flame. | |
| One would suspect thou meant’st to print | 25 |
| Some weak, inferiour, woman saint. | |
| But had thy pale-fac’t purple took | |
| Fire from the burning cheeks of that bright Booke | |
| Thou wouldst on her have heap’t up all | |
| That could be found Seraphicall; | 30 |
| What e’re this youth of fire weares fair, | |
| Rosy fingers, radiant hair, | |
| Glowing cheek, and glistering wings, | |
| All those fair and flagrant things, | |
| But before all, that fiery Dart | 35 |
| Had fill’d the Hand of this great Heart. | |
| Doe then as equall right requires, | |
| Since His the blushes be, and her’s the fires, | |
| Resume and rectify thy rude design; | |
| Undresse thy Seraphim into Mine. | 40 |
| Redeem this injury of thy art; | |
| Give Him the vail, give her the dart. | |
| Give Him the vail; that he may cover | |
| The Red cheeks of a rivall’d lover. | |
| Asham’d that our world, now, can show | 45 |
| Nests of new Seraphims here below. | |
| Give her the Dart for it is she | |
| (Fair youth) shootes both thy shaft and Thee | |
| Say, all ye wise and well-peirc’t hearts | |
| That live and dy amidst her darts, | 50 |
| What is’t your tastfull spirits doe prove | |
| In that rare life of Her, and love? | |
| Say and bear wittnes. Sends she not | |
| A Seraphim at every shott? | |
| What magazins of immortall Armes there shine! | 55 |
| Heavn’s great artillery in each love-spun line. | |
| Give then the dart to her who gives the flame; | |
| Give him the veil, who gives the shame. | |
| But if it be the frequent fate | |
| Of worst faults to be fortunate; | 60 |
| If all’s præscription; and proud wrong | |
| Hearkens not to an humble song; | |
| For all the gallantry of him, | |
| Give me the suffring Seraphim. | |
| His be the bravery of all those Bright things. | 65 |
| The glowing cheekes, the glistering wings; | |
| The Rosy hand, the radiant Dart; | |
| Leave Her alone The Flaming Heart. | |
| Leave her that; and thou shalt leave her | |
| Not one loose shaft but love’s whole quiver. | 70 |
| For in love’s feild was never found | |
| A nobler weapon then a Wound. | |
| Love’s passives are his activ’st part. | |
| The wounded is the wounding heart. | |
| O Heart! the æquall poise of love’s both parts | 75 |
| Bigge alike with wound and darts. | |
| Live in these conquering leaves; live all the same; | |
| And walk through all tongues one triumphant Flame. | |
| Live here, great Heart; and love and dy and kill; | |
| And bleed and wound; and yeild and conquer still. | 80 |
| Let this immortall life wherere it comes | |
| Walk in a crowd of loves and Martyrdomes | |
| Let mystick Deaths wait on’t; and wise soules be | |
| The love-slain wittnesses of this life of thee. | |
| O sweet incendiary! shew here thy art, | 85 |
| Upon this carcasse of a hard, cold, hart, | |
| Let all thy scatter’d shafts of light, that play | |
| Among the leaves of thy larg Books of day, | |
| Combin’d against this Brest at once break in | |
| And take away from me my self and sin, | 90 |
| This gratious Robbery shall thy bounty be; | |
| And my best fortunes such fair spoiles of me. | |
| O thou undanted daughter of desires! | |
| By all thy dowr of Lights and Fires; | |
| By all the eagle in thee, all the dove; | 95 |
| By all thy lives and deaths of love; | |
| By thy larg draughts of intellectuall day, | |
| And by thy thirsts of love more large then they; | |
| By all thy brim-fill’d Bowles of feirce desire | |
| By thy last Morning’s draught of liquid fire; | 100 |
| By the full kingdome of that finall kisse | |
| That seiz’d thy parting Soul, and seal’d thee his; | |
| By all the heav’ns thou hast in him | |
| (Fair sister of the Seraphim!) | |
| By all of Him we have in Thee; | 105 |
| Leave nothing of my Self in me. | |
| Let me so read thy life, that I | |
| Unto all life of mine may dy. | |
