Let hearts and lips speak loud and say,
Hail, door of life, and source of day!
The door was shut, the fountain seal'd,
Yet light was seen and life reveal'd;
The fountain seal'd, yet life found way.
Glory to thee, great virgin's Son!
In bosom of thy Father's bliss.

The same to thee, sweet Sp'rit! be done;
As ever shall be, was, and is. Amen.

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THE FLAMING HEART, UPON THE BOOK AND PICTURE OF THE SERAPHICAL SAINT TERESA,

AS SHE IS USUALLY EXPRESSED WITH A SERAPHIM BESIDE

HER.

WELL-MEANING readers! you that come as friends,
And catch the precious name this piece pretends,

Make not too much haste t' admire

That fair-cheek'd fallacy of fire;

That is a seraphim, they say,
And this is the great Teresa.
Readers, be ruled by me, and make
Here a well-placed and wise mistake;
You must transpose the picture quite,
And spell it wrong to read it right;
Read him for her, and her for him;
And call the saint the seraphim.

Painter, what didst thou understand

To put her dart into his hand!
See, even the years and size of him
Show this the mother seraphim.

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This is the mistress flame; and duteous he

Her happy fire-works, here, comes down to see:

O most poor-spirited of men!

Had thy cold pencil kiss'd her pen,

Thou couldst not so unkindly err

To show us this faint shade for her.

Why, man, this speaks pure mortal frame,

And mocks with female frost love's manly flame.
One would suspect thou mean'st to paint
Some weak, inferior, woman saint.

But had thy pale-faced purple took

Fire from the burning cheeks of that bright book, Thou wouldst on her have heap'd up all

That could be found seraphical;

Whate'er this youth of fire wears fair,

Rosy fingers, radiant hair,

Glowing cheek, and glist'ring wings,
All those fair and flagrant things,
But before all, that fiery dart,

Had fill'd the hand of this great heart.

Do then as equal right requires;

Since his the blushes be, and hers the fires,

Resume and rectify thy rude design;

Undress thy seraphim into mine;

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Redeem this injury of thy art;

Give him the veil, give her the dart.

Give him the veil, that he may cover

The red cheeks of a rivall'd lover;
Ashamed that our world now can show

Nests of new seraphims here below.

Give her the dart, for it is she

(Fair youth) shoots both thy shaft and thee; Say, all ye wise and well-pierced hearts That live and die amidst her darts,

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What is 't your tasteful sp'rits do prove
In that rare life of her, and love?
Say and bear witness, sends she not
A seraphim at ev'ry shot?

What magazines of immortal arms there shine!
Heaven's great artillery in each love-spun line.
Give then the dart to her, who gives the flame;
Give him the veil, who gives the shame.

But if it be the frequent fate
Of worst faults to be fortunate;
If all's prescription; and proud wrong
Hearkens not to an humble song;

For all the gallantry of him,

Give me the suff'ring seraphim.

His be the brav'ry of all those bright things,
The glowing cheeks, the glist'ring wings;
The rosy hand, the radiant dart;

Leave her alone the flaming heart.

Leave her that, and thou shalt leave her
Not one loose shaft, but love's whole quiver;
For in love's field was never found.

A nobler weapon than a wound.
Love's passives are his activ'st part;
The wounded is the wounding heart.

Oh heart the equal poise of love's both parts,
Big alike with wounds and darts;

Live in these conquering leaves; live all the same;
And walk through all tongues one triumphant flame;
Live here, great heart; and love, and die, and kill;
And bleed, and wound, and yield, and conquer still.
Let this immortal life where'er it comes
Walk in a crowd of loves and martyrdoms.

Let mystic deaths wait on 't; and wise souls be
The love-slain witnesses of this life of thee.

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.

Oh, sweet incendiary! show here thy art,
Upon this carcass of a hard cold heart;
Let all thy scatter'd shafts of light that play
Among the leaves of thy large books of day,
Combined against this breast at once break in
And take away from me myself and sin;
This gracious robbery shall thy bounty be,
And my best fortunes such fair spoils of me.
O thou undaunted daughter of desires!
By all thy dower of lights and fires;

By all the eagle in thee, all the dove;

By all thy lives and deaths of love;

By thy large draughts of intellectual day;

And by thy thirsts of love more large than they;
By all thy brim-fill'd bowls of fierce desire;
By thy last morning's draught of liquid fire;
By the full kingdom of that final kiss

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That seized thy parting soul, and seal'd thee his;
By all the Heavens thou hast in him
(Fair sister of the seraphim);
By all of him we have in thee;
Leave nothing of myself in me.
Let me so read thy life, that I
Unto all life of mine may die.

A SONG.

LORD, when the sense of thy sweet grace
Sends up my soul to seek thy face,
Thy blessed eyes breed such desire,
I die in love's delicious fire.
O Love, I am thy sacrifice;
Be still triumphant, blessed eyes,

TO MISTRESS M. R., COUNSEL CONCERNING HER CHOICE.

DEAR, heaven-designed soul!

Amongst the rest

Of suitors that besiege your maiden breast,
Why may not I

My fortune try,

And venture to speak one good word,

Not for myself, alas! but for my dearer Lord?
You've seen already in this lower sphere
Of froth and bubbles, what to look for here.
Say, gentle soul, what can you find
But painted shapes,

Peacocks and apes,

Illustrious flies,

Gilded dunghills, glorious lies,

Goodly surmises

And deep disguises,

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