What Angel stirrs this happy Well, <br /> Some Muse from thence come shew't me, <br />One of those naked Graces tell <br /> That Angels are for beauty: <br />The Lame themselves that enter here <br /> Come Angels out againe, <br />And Bodies turne to Soules all cleere, <br /> All made for joy, noe payne. <br /> <br /> <br />Heate never was so sweetely mett <br /> With moist as in this shower: <br />Old men are borne anew by swett <br /> Of its restoring pow'r: <br />When crippl'd joynts we suppl'd see, <br /> And second lives new come, <br />Who can deny this Font to be <br /> The Bodies Christendome? <br /> <br /> <br />One Bath so fiery is you'l thinke <br /> The Water is all Spirit, <br />Whose quick'ning streames are like the drink <br /> Whereby we Life inheritt: <br />The second Poole of middle straine <br /> Can wive Virginity, <br />Tempting the blood to such a vayne <br /> One sexe is He and She. <br /> <br /> <br />The third where horses plunge may bring <br /> A Pegasus to reare us, <br />And call for pens from Bladud's wing <br /> For legging those that beare us. <br />Why should Physitians thither fly <br /> Where Waters med'cines be, <br />Physitians come to cure thereby, <br /> And are more cur'd than we<br /><br />William Strode<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-song-on-the-baths/
