Eiresione, or the Olive Branch
The turrets of a man of infinite might,
Of infinite action, substance infinite,
We make access to; whose whole being rebounds
From earth to heaven, and nought but bliss resounds.
Give entry then, ye doors; more riches yet
Shall enter with me; all the Graces met
In joy of their fruition, perfect peace
Confirming all; all crown’d with such increase,
That every empty vessel in your house
May stand replete with all things precious;
Elaborate Ceres may your larders fill
With all dear delicates, and serve in still;
May for your son a wife make wish’d approach
Into your tow’rs, and rapt in in her coach
With strong-kneed mules; may yet her state prove staid,
With honour’d housewiferies; her fair hand laid
To artful loomworks; and her nak’d feet tread
The gum of amber to a golden bead.
But I’ll return; return, and yet not press
Your bounties now assay’d with oft access,
Once a year only, as the swallow prates
Before the wealthy Spring’s wide open gates.
Meantime I stand at yours, nor purpose stay
More time t’ entreat. Give, or not give, away
My feet shall bear me, that did never come
With any thought to make your house my home.