HYMNIA-BEATRIX

Before you pass and leave me gaunt and chill

Alone to do what I have joyed in doing

In your glad sight, suffer me, nor take ill

If I confess you prize and me pursuing.

As the rapt Tuscan lifted up his eyes

Whither his Lady led, and lived with her,

Strong in her strength, and in her wisdom wise,

Love-taught with song to be her thurifer;

So I, that may no nearer stand than he

To minister about the holy place,

Am well content to watch my Heaven in thee

And read my Credo in thy sacred face.

For even as Beatrix Dante's wreath did bind,

So, Hymnia, hast thou imparadised my mind.