"Yet hold me near Thee; set me as a Seal, / Deep on thy dear dear Heart!"
— Browne, Moses (1706-1787)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for A. Millar [etc.]
Date
1752
Metaphor
"Yet hold me near Thee; set me as a Seal, / Deep on thy dear dear Heart!"
Metaphor in Context
Touch'd, captiv'd, raptur'd, aw'd, all extasy'd!
All lost! in trembling Wonder, thy Embrace
I meet, thou heavenly Bridegroom[1]! ah! repeat,
My Life! my Sweetness! those connubial Vows
(Soft, as when first the Sounds betroth'd my Soul)
"Thy Maker is thy Husband"[2]. O! repeat
Earth, Air, and Skies th' eternal Echoes round,
"Thy Maker is thy Husband"!--'tis for Words
(Th' o'erwhelming Bliss) too vast! for Thought too full!
Ye Nymphs of Solyma, my bridal Friends,
That view my shudd'ring Pangs, my speechless Joy,
Tell my Soul's Lord, the too too lovely--(ah!
By Pity's Softness I adjure ye!) tell
My Prince! my Charmer!--I am sick of Love.
Turn thy sweet Eyes away! their Beams o'erpower,
With Ravishments too soft, my fainting Sight!
--Yet hold me near Thee; set me as a Seal,
Deep on thy dear dear Heart! for strong as Death
Are the fond Ardours of impatient Love;
More cruel than the Grave, its Jealousy.
--And art thou mine? the dread, dear Lover mine?
Th' espousing God?--ah me! a worthless Bride!
How base, how poor! bow prostrate Thoughts in Praise,
In grateful Thanks: with all thy purest Fires,
Flame, kindled Heart: bend Choice, Affections, Will;
Be wholly his the Life his Pity sav'd.
All lost! in trembling Wonder, thy Embrace
I meet, thou heavenly Bridegroom[1]! ah! repeat,
My Life! my Sweetness! those connubial Vows
(Soft, as when first the Sounds betroth'd my Soul)
"Thy Maker is thy Husband"[2]. O! repeat
Earth, Air, and Skies th' eternal Echoes round,
"Thy Maker is thy Husband"!--'tis for Words
(Th' o'erwhelming Bliss) too vast! for Thought too full!
Ye Nymphs of Solyma, my bridal Friends,
That view my shudd'ring Pangs, my speechless Joy,
Tell my Soul's Lord, the too too lovely--(ah!
By Pity's Softness I adjure ye!) tell
My Prince! my Charmer!--I am sick of Love.
Turn thy sweet Eyes away! their Beams o'erpower,
With Ravishments too soft, my fainting Sight!
--Yet hold me near Thee; set me as a Seal,
Deep on thy dear dear Heart! for strong as Death
Are the fond Ardours of impatient Love;
More cruel than the Grave, its Jealousy.
--And art thou mine? the dread, dear Lover mine?
Th' espousing God?--ah me! a worthless Bride!
How base, how poor! bow prostrate Thoughts in Praise,
In grateful Thanks: with all thy purest Fires,
Flame, kindled Heart: bend Choice, Affections, Will;
Be wholly his the Life his Pity sav'd.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "heart" and "seal" in HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry
04/17/2005
