To his Mistress

1

My Theodora , can those eyes
From whence such glories shine
Give light to every soul that pryes,
And only be obscur'd to mine,
Who willingly my heart resigne,
Enflam'd by you, to be your sacrifice?

2

Send out one beam t'enrich my soul,
And chase this gloomy shade,
That does in clouds about me roul,
And in my breast a hell has made;
Where fire still burns, still flames invade
And yet lights pow'r and comfort both controul

3

Then, out of gratitude, I'll send
Some of my flames to thee,
Thus lovingly our gifts we'll blend;
And both in joyes shall wealthy be:
And love, though blind, shall learn to see,
Since you an eye to him and me can lend.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.