Classic Poem

Apples of gold, in silver pictures shrined
Enchant the appetite, make mouths to water.
And loveliness in lumps, tuned, and enrined
In jasper cask, when tapped, doth briskly vapor:
Bring forth a birth of keys t'unlock love's chest,
That love, like birds, may fly to't from its nest.

Such is my Lord, and more. But what strange thing
Am I become? Sin rusts my lock all o'er.
Though he ten thousand keys all on a string
Takes out, scarce one is found unlocks the door.
Which ope, my love crinched in a corner lies
Like some shrunk crickling and scarce can rise.

Lord, ope the door: rub off my rust, remove
My sin, and oil my lock. (Dust there doth shelf).
My wards will trig before Thy key: my love
Then, as enlivened, leap will on Thyself.
It needs must be, that giving hands receive
Again receivers, hearts furled in love wreath.

Unkey my heart; unlock Thy wardrobe: bring
Out royal robes: adorn my soul, Lord: so,
My love in rich attire shall on my King
Attend, and honor on Him well bestow.
In glory He prepares for His a place
Whom He doth all beglory here with grace.

He takes them to the shining threshold clear
Of His bright palace, clothed in grace's flame.
Then takes them in thereto, not only there
To have a prospect, but possess the same.
The crown of life, the throne of glory's place,
The father's house blanched o'er with orient grace.

Canaan in gold print enwalled with gems:
A kingdom rimmed with glory round: in fine
A glorious crown paled thick with all the stems
Of grace, and of all properties divine.
How happy wilt Thou make me when these shall
As a blest heritage unto me fall?

Adorn me, Lord, with holy huswifry.
All blanch my robes with clusters of Thy graces:
Thus lead me to Thy threshold: give mine eye
A peephole there to see bright glory's chases.
Then take me in: I'll pay, when I possess
Thy throne, to Thee the rent in happiness.