I saw about her spotlesse wrist, Of blackest silk, a curious twist; Which, circumvolving gently, there Enthrall'd her Arme, as Prisoner. Dark was the Jayle; but as if light Had met t'engender with the night; Or so, as Darknesse made a stay To shew at once, both night and day. One fancie more! but if there be Such Freedome in Captivity; I beg of Love, that ever I May in like Chains of Darknesse lie. |