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Friday, May 22, 2009

SOUL LODGING, After Horace

After Horace

Bear me, quickly hence!
Oh Great Heaven! Bear me
To lovely bedroom scene,
To where Love sits,
To where she combs,
She combs her beauteous hair.

Take me, Oh Saving Grace!
Take me to where
My darling reigns,
She remains peerless,
Her wit and mind unparallel.

The stillness of her flesh,
The steady rhythm of breath,
Cosmic glory of her face,
Supreme, she sleeps
At rest her beauty, unmatched,
I contend she has no rival!

Serve me! Transport me,
Oh Holy Favor, ecstatic,
To her bed, my body, carry it,
Place it, my flesh,
Set it next to hers!

Next to her in repose,
My soul lodges happily,
She in towering keep.
No storm, no force of arms,
Nothing disturbs her enclosure.

In her embrace, life secure,
Peace of mind, assured.

Oh Force Divine, deliver me
To her safe fortress!
The stronghold mortal monarchs
Might merely hope to attain,
Bear me, quickly hence!

Make me, me the envy of kings!

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