Francis Quarles.

1592-1644

284   A Divine Rapture

E’EN like two little bank-dividing brooks,
   That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams,
And having ranged and search’d a thousand nooks,
   Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames,
    Where in a greater current they conjoin:
So I my Best-belovàd’s am; so He is mine.

E’en so we met; and after long pursuit,
   E’en so we joined; we both became entire;
No need for either to renew a suit,
   For I was flax, and He was flames of fire:
    Our firm-united souls did more than twine;
So I my Best-belovàd’s am; so He is mine.

If all those glittering Monarchs, that command
   The servile quarters of this earthly ball,
Should tender in exchange their shares of land,
   I would not change my fortunes for them all:
    Their wealth is but a counter to my coin:
The world’s but theirs; but my Belovàd’s mine.

285   Epigram

Respice Finem

MY soul, sit thou a patient looker-on;
Judge not the play before the play is done:
Her plot hath many changes; every day
Speaks a new scene; the last act crowns the play.