I. <br />From the dire monument of thy black roome, <br />Wher now that vestal flame thou dost intombe, <br />As in the inmost cell of all earths wombe. <br /> <br /> II. <br />Sacred Lucasta, like the pow'rfull ray <br />Of heavenly truth, passe this Cimmerian way, <br />Whilst all the standards of your beames display. <br /> <br /> III. <br />Arise and climbe our whitest, highest hill; <br />There your sad thoughts with joy and wonder fill, <br />And see seas calme as earth, earth as your will. <br /> <br /> IV. <br />Behold! how lightning like a taper flyes, <br />And guilds your chari't, but ashamed dyes, <br />Seeing it selfe out-gloried by your eyes. <br /> <br /> V. <br />Threatning and boystrous tempests gently bow, <br />And to your steps part in soft paths, when now <br />There no where hangs a cloud, but on your brow. <br /> <br /> VI. <br />No showrs but 'twixt your lids, nor gelid snow, <br />But what your whiter, chaster brest doth ow, <br />Whilst winds in chains colder for sorrow blow. <br /> <br /> VII. <br />Shrill trumpets doe only sound to eate, <br />Artillery hath loaden ev'ry dish with meate, <br />And drums at ev'ry health alarmes beate. <br /> <br /> VIII. <br />All things Lucasta, but Lucasta, call, <br />Trees borrow tongues, waters in accents fall, <br />The aire doth sing, and fire is musicall. <br /> <br /> IX. <br />Awake from the dead vault in which you dwell, <br />All's loyall here, except your thoughts rebell <br />Which, so let loose, often their gen'rall quell. <br /> <br /> X. <br />See! she obeys! By all obeyed thus, <br />No storms, heats, colds, no soules contentious, <br />Nor civill war is found; I meane, to us. <br /> <br /> XI. <br />Lovers and angels, though in heav'n they show, <br />And see the woes and discords here below, <br />What they not feele, must not be said to know.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/calling-lucasta-from-her-retirement-ode/