I. <br />Heark, faire one, how what e're here is <br /> Doth laugh and sing at thy distresse; <br />Not out of hate to thy reliefe, <br /> But joy t' enjoy thee, though in griefe. <br /> <br /> II. <br />See! that which chaynes you, you chaine here; <br /> The prison is thy prisoner; <br />How much thy jaylor's keeper art! <br /> He bindes your hands, but you his heart. <br /> <br /> III. <br />The gyves to rase so smooth a skin, <br /> Are so unto themselves within; <br />But, blest to kisse so fayre an arme, <br /> Haste to be happy with that harme; <br /> <br /> IV. <br />And play about thy wanton wrist, <br /> As if in them thou so wert drest; <br />But if too rough, too hard they presse, <br /> Oh, they but closely, closely kisse. <br /> <br /> V. <br />And as thy bare feet blesse the way, <br /> The people doe not mock, but pray, <br />And call thee, as amas'd they run <br /> Instead of prostitute, a nun. <br /> <br /> VI. <br />The merry torch burnes with desire <br /> To kindle the eternall fire, <br />And lightly daunces in thine eyes <br /> To tunes of epithalamies. <br /> <br /> VII. <br />The sheet's ty'd ever to thy wast, <br /> How thankfull to be so imbrac't! <br />And see! thy very very bonds <br /> Are bound to thee, to binde such hands.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-guiltlesse-lady-imprisoned-after-penanced-song/
