'The Divine Lover' (poem) written by Phineas Fletcher

Me, Lord? Canst thou mispend

One word, misplace one look on me?

Call'st my, thy Love, thy Friend?

Can this poor soul the object be

Of those love-glances, those life-kindling eyes?

What? I the centre of thy arms' embraces?
Of all thy labour I the prize?
Love never mocks, truth never lies.

Oh how I quake: hope, fear, fear hope displaces:

I would, but cannot hope: such wondrous love amazes. 


See, I am black as night,

See, I am darkness: dark as hell.

Lord, thou more fair than light;

Heaven's sun thy shadow: suns can dwell

With shades? 'twixt light and darkness what commerce?

True: thou art darkness, I thy light: my ray

Thy mists and hellish fogs shall pierce.

With me, black soul, with me converse;

I make the foul December flowery May.

Turn thou thy night to me; I'll turn thy night to day.


See, Lord, see I am dead:

Tombed in myself: myself my grave.

A drudge: so born, so bred:

Myself even to myself a slave.

Thou freedom, life: can life and liberty

Love bondage, death? Thy freedom I: I tied

To loose thy bonds: be bound to me:

My yoke shall ease, my bonds shall free.

Dead soul, thy spring of life, my dying side:

There die with me to live: to live in thee I died. 

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