Classic Poem

“S AY bold but blessed theefe,”
That in a trice
Slipt into paradise,
And in playne daye
Stol'st heaven awaye,
What trick couldst thou invent
To compass thy intent?
What armes?
What charmes?’
‘Love and beleife.’
‘Say bold but blessed theefe,
How couldst thou read
A crowne upon that head?
What text, what gloss,
A kingdome on a cross?
How couldst thou come to spy
God in a man to die?
What light?
What sight?’
‘The sight of greife—

‘I sight to God his paine;
And by that sight
I saw the light;
Thus did my greife
Beget releife.
And take this rule from me,
Pity thou him, he'll pity thee.
Use this,
Ne'er miss,
Heaven may be stolne againe.’