Twas not for some calm blessing to deceive,
Thou didst thy polish'd hands in shagg'd furs weave;
It were no blessing thus obtain'd;
Thou rather would'st a curse have gain'd,
Then let thy warm driven snow be ever stain'd.

Not that you feared the discolo'ring cold
Might alchymize their silver into gold;
Nor could your ten white nuns so sin,
That you should thus pennance them in,
Each in her coarse hair smock of discipline.

Nor, Hero-like who, on their crest still wore
A lyon, panther, leopard, or a bore,
To looke their enemies in their herse,
Thou would'st thy hand should deeper pierce,
And, in its softness rough, appear more fierce.

No, no, LUCASTA, destiny decreed,
That beasts to thee a sacrifice should bleed,
And strip themselves to make you gay:
For ne'r yet herald did display
A coat, where SABLES upon ERMIN lay.

This for lay-lovers, that must stand at dore,
Salute the threshold, and admire no more;
But I, in my invention tough,
Rate not this outward bliss enough,
But still contemplate must the hidden muffe.

By Heav'n, and all its Gods I swear,
Or if a greater Oath there be,
There's not a God inhabits there
But what would Barter all his Heav'n for thee.
Ev'n Jove himself, their Father and their King,
Would leave his Grandeur and his Throne
And turn a Bird, a Beast, or any thing;
Might he possess but thee alone.

I swear there is no greater Happiness,
Or if there be, I can no greater guess,
Then 'tis to sit and gaze
On the rare Beauties of thy face:
Ev'n Heav'n it self would that fair Prospect prize
And look for ever with unwearied view,
And tho it look'd with all its Eyes
'Twould still confess 'em all too few.

They say, 'tis all the Heav'n the Blessed know
To view the Mirror of the Deity;
I'm sure 'tis all my Heav'n below
To look on thee,
That's here the Beatifick Sight to me,
And 'tis my Hell when I thy Presence must forgo.

To read my Destinies,
I'll not consult the Planets of the Skies,
But those more radiant Stars thine Eyes;
If these appear benign,
Let other Stars with any Aspect shine;
So we are in Conjunction,
I fear not theirs, nor what it can portend,
My Fates on that, not this depend,
They all depend on that alone.