Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/235

 776. O come quickly!

Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore, Never tirèd pilgrim's limbs affected slumber more, Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled breast: O come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest!

Ever blooming are the joys of heaven's high Paradise, Cold age deafs not there our ears nor vapour dims our eyes: Glory there the sun outshines; whose beams the Blessèd only see: O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to Thee!

JOHN REYNOLDS

16th Cent.

177. A Nosegay

Say, crimson Rose and dainty Daffodil, With Violet blue; Since you have seen the beauty of my saint, And eke her view; Did not her sight (fair sight!) you lonely fill, With sweet delight Of goddess' grace and angels' sacred teint In fine, most bright?

Say, golden Primrose, sanguine Cowslip fair, With Pink most fine; Since you beheld the visage of my dear, And eyes divine;

177. teint] tint, hue.