Now I have found thee, I will evermore
Embrace this standard where thou sitst above.
Feed greedy eyes and from hence never rove,
s** hungry soul of this eternal store,
Issue my heart from thy two-leaved door,
And let my lips from kissing not remove.
O that I were transformèd into love,
And as a plant might spring upon this flower;
Like wandering ivy or sweet honeys**le,
How would I with my twine about it buckle,
And kiss his feet with my ambitious boughs,
And climb along upon his sacred breast,
And make a garland for his wounded brows.
Lord, so I am if here my thoughts might rest.