Ode — To Love (Great Love I thank thee, now thou hast)

Great Love I thank thee, now thou hast
Paid me for all my Suff'rings past;
And wounded me with Nature's Pride,
For whom more Glory 'tis to dye,
Scorn'd, and neglected, than enjoy
All Beauty in the World beside.

A Beauty above all pretence,
Whose very Scorns are recompence,
The Regent of my Heart is crown'd,
And now the Sorrows, and the Woe,
My Youth, or Folly, helpt me to,
Are buried in this Friendly Wound.

Led by my Folly; or my Fate,
I lov'd before I knew not what,
And threw my Thoughts I knew not where;
With Judgment now I love, and sue,
And never yet Perfection knew,
Until I cast mine Eyes on her.

My Soul that was so mean before,
Each little Beauty to adore;
Now rais'd to Glory, does despise,
Those poor and counterfeited Rays,
That caught me in my childish Days,
And knows no Power but her Eyes.

Rais'd to this height, I have no more,
Almighty Love, now to implore
Of my auspicious Stars; on thee:
Than, that thou bow her noble Mind,
To be as mercifully kind:
As I shall ever faithful be.