Haile holy, and all-honour'd Tomb, By no ill haunted; here I come, With shoes put off, to tread thy Roome. I'le not prophane, by soile of sin, Thy Doore, as I do enter in: For I have washt both hand and heart, This, that, and ev'ry other part; So that I dare, with farre lesse feare, Then full affection, enter here. Thus, thus I come to kisse Thy Stone With a warm lip, and solemne one: And as I kisse, I'le here and there Dresse Thee with flowrie Diaper. How sweet this place is! as from hence Flow'd all Panchaia's Frankincense; Or rich Arabia did commix, Here, all her rare Aromaticks. Let me live ever here, and stir No one step from this Sepulcher. Ravisht I am! and down I lie, Confus'd, in this brave Extasie. Here let me rest; and let me have This for my Heaven, that was Thy Grave: And, coveting no higher sphere, I'le my Eternitie spend here. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WANTS OF MAN by JOHN QUINCY ADAMS THE FARM CHILD'S LULLABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR IN AN ARTIST'S STUDIO by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI STILL FALLS THE RAIN; THE RAIDS, 1940. NIGHT AND DAWN by EDITH SITWELL THE DIFFERENCE by ANGELO PHILIP BERTOCCI |