| |
| COME, madam, come, all rest my powers defy; | |
| Until I labour, I in labour lie. | |
| The foe ofttimes, having the foe in sight, | |
| Is tired with standing, though he never fight. | |
| Off with that girdle, like heaven’s zone glittering, | 5 |
| But a far fairer world encompassing. | |
| Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear, | |
| That th’ eyes of busy fools may be stopp’d there. | |
| Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime | |
| Tells me from you that now it is bed-time. | 10 |
| Off with that happy busk, which I envy, | |
| That still can be, and still can stand so nigh. | |
| Your gown going off such beauteous state reveals, | |
| As when from flowery meads th’ hill’s shadow steals. | |
| Off with your wiry coronet, and show | 15 |
| The hairy diadems which on you do grow. 1 | |
| Off with your hose and shoes; 2 then softly tread | |
| In this love’s hallow’d temple, this soft bed. | |
| In such white robes heaven’s angels used to be | |
| Revealed to men; thou, angel, bring’st with thee | 20 |
| A heaven-like Mahomet’s paradise; and though | |
| Ill spirits 3 walk in white, we easily know | |
| By this these angels from an evil sprite; | |
| Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright. | |
| Licence my roving hands, and let them go | 25 |
| Before, behind, between, above, below. | |
| Oh, my America, my Newfoundland, | |
| My kingdom, safest when with one man mann’d, | |
| My mine of precious stones, my empery; | |
| How am I blest in thus discovering thee! | 30 |
| To enter in these bonds, is to be free; | |
| Then, where my hand is set, my soul shall be. | |
| Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee; | |
| As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be | |
| To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use | 35 |
| Are like Atlanta’s ball cast in men’s views; | |
| That, when a fool’s eye lighteth on a gem, | |
| His earthly soul might court that, not them. | |
| Like pictures, or like books’ gay coverings made | |
| For laymen, are all women thus array’d. | 40 |
| Themselves are only mystic books, which we | |
| —Whom their imputed grace will dignify— | |
| Must see reveal’d. Then, since that I may know, | |
| As liberally as to thy midwife show | |
| Thyself; cast all, yea, this white linen hence; | 45 |
| There is no penance due to innocence: | |
| To teach thee, I am naked first; why then, | |
| What needst thou have more covering than a man? | |
