Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HEART, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT

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THE HEART, by            
First Line: O mee! My enigmatik heart
Last Line: But life into ye dust breathe once againe.
Subject(s): Jesus Christ; Regret; Temptation

OMEE! My enigmatik Heart
How far am I from understanding Thee,
Although thy first & cheifest part
Nothing but mine owne Understanding bee!

Me thought Thou wert on Sunday last
Deeply in love wth Love's Heartwinning King,
When Thou didst prudently forecast
A Wreath of Virtues for thy Marriage Ring.

And what was that Inchantment Thou
In this bewitching World of Lies didst see?
How did it dimme thy Sight, & through
A cheating Glasse make Heavn seem dark to Thee?

Heavn seemed black, but Earth so bright
That Thou with fond Desires didst court & woo it:
Forgot was Jesus, whose sweet light
Draws all ye Seraphs wondring eyes unto it.

What hast Thou gain'd Apostate Thing,
What Joyes in thy new Love dost Thou imbrace?
Whose every Part's a gilded Sting,
A Death dissembled by an handsome face.

How shall I be reveng'd! For I
Cannot digest thus to be wrong'd by Thee:
Must I indure that Thou, & Thy
Foule treacherie shall part my God & Mee?

Did I consent! How could it bee?
My Lord, My Love, my Joy, my Happinesse
My Refuge Jesus is, & Hee
Can never changed be from what He is.

Surely 'twas onely Thou, and thy
Besotted Passion wch did Me betray,
And as I slept awhile, did by
Foule theft me from my Spouse remove away.

Alas what maze is this, wherin
I snarled am! Dwells there one Heart alone
In this poor Breast; or do I 'gin
Not to be I, but two strange Things in one?

I did, yet I did not consent:
No reason why I should; and yet I did:
No I did not: I never ment
My Jesus should from Me be severed:

O Mee! I am confounded quite,
Enforc'd wth mine owne Heart to disagree.
Jesu, Thou knowest me aright,
My Heart is not so dear as Thou to Mee.

How knotty is my Miserie,
Who must mine owne Heart from my Bosome teare,
Or from yt Mansion drive out Thee,
Who hast best Title to inhabit there?

Deare Lord of Love, I cannot live
With this untoward traiterous Heart of mine:
If Thou wilt Me a New one give,
Thou shalt partake, it shall be mine & Thine:

Or rather Thine, and onely Thine:
For I'm not to be trusted with an Heart;
I kept not that, wch once was mine,
But Thou both carefull, & Almighty art.

Regard thy Worme, wch heer lies spread
Upon thy Footstoole, sighing out his paine:
O tread not on his worthlesse Head,
But Life into ye Dust breathe once againe.

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