Tixall Poetry/The Royal Nun

by unknown author

XLVI.

The Royal Nun.

 

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Chorus of Virgins.

O Chrisostome! look down, and see
An offering worthy heaven and thee:
Soe rich the victime, bright and faire,
That she on earth appeares a star.
Eudosia is the Virgin's name,
And after-times shall sing her fame.

Lead the Voterice, lead her in,
Her holy birth-day now begin;
In humble weeds, but cleane array,
Thy houres shall sweetly pass away:
And when the rights devine are past,
To pleasant gardins we will hast.

Pulcheria.
Canst thou, Marina, leave the world,
 The world that is devotions bane,
Wher crownes are tost, and scepters hurl'd,
 Wher lust, and proud ambitions raigne?

Canst thou thy costly robes forbeare,
 To live with us in poore attire?
Canst thou from courts to cells repaire,
 To sing att midnight in the quire?

Canst thou forget the golden bed,
 Wher thou mightst sleep beyond the morne,
On matts to lay thy royall head,
 And have thy beauteous tresses shorne?

Canst thou resolve to fast all day,
 And weepe and groane to be forgiven?
Canst thou in broken slumbers pray,
 And by afflictions merit heaven?

Chorus.
Say, Voterisse, can this be done?
 Whilst we the grace divine implore—
The world shall lose the battles won,
 And sin shall never chaine thee more.

Marina.
The gate to blisse doth open stand,
 And all my penance is in view;
The world, upon the other hand,
 Cries out, Oh, doe not bid adue.

Chorus.
What, what can pompe and glory doe?
 Or what can human powers perswade?
That mind that hath a heaven in view,
 How can it be by earth betraid?

Marina.
Hast then, Oh, hast to take me in,
 For ever locke Religions dore;
Secure me from the charmes of sin,
 And let me see the world noe more.