Classic Poem

And now the Queene of women had intent
To give it use; and therefore made ascent
Up all the staire's height to the chamber dore,
Whose shining leaves two bright Pilasters bore
To such a Close, when both together went,
It would resist the Aire in their consent.
The Ring she tooke then, and did draw aside
A barre that ran within, and then implide
The Key into the Locke--which gave a sound
(The Bolt then shooting) as in pasture ground
A Bull doth Low and make the valleys ring:
So loud the Locke humm'd, when it loosd his Spring,
And ope the doores flewe. In she went along
The lofty chamber, that was boorded strong
With heart of Oake, which many yeares ago
The Architect did smooth and polish so
That now as then he made it freshly shine,
And tried the evennesse of it with a Line.
There stood in this roome Presses that enclos'd
Robes odoriferous, by which repos'd
The Bow was upon pins, nor from it farre
Hung the round Quiver, glittering like a Starre--
Both which her white extended hand tooke downe.
Then sate she low, and made her lap a Crowne
Of both those Reliques, which she wept to see,
And cried quite out with loving memory
Of her deare Lord: to whose worth paying then
Kinde debts enow, she left, and to the men
Vow'd to her wooing brought the crooked Bow
And shaft-receiving Quiver, that did flow
With arrowes, beating sighes up where they fell.
Then with another Chist, repleate as well
With Games won by the King of Steele and Brasse,
Her Maids attended--past whom making passe
To where her wooers were, she made her stay
Amids the faire Hall doore, and kept the ray
Of her bright count'nance hid with veyles so thin
That, though they seem'd t'expose, they let love in.