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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419692" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Epithalamion Made At Lincoln's Inn</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I </div><div style="margin:10px 0">HAIL sun-beams in the east are spread ; <br>Leave, leave, fair bride, your solitary bed ; <br>No more shall you return to it alone ; <br>It nurseth sadness, and your body's print, <br>Like to a grave, the yielding down doth dint ; <br>You, and your other you, meet there anon. <br>Put forth, put forth, that warm balm-breathing thigh, <br>Which when next time you in these sheets will smother, <br>There it must meet another, <br>Which never was, but must be, oft, more nigh. <br>Come glad from thence, go gladder than you came ; <br>To-day put on perfection, and a woman's name. <br>Daughters of London, you which be <br>Our golden mines, and furnish'd treasury ; <br>You which are angels, yet still bring with you <br>Thousands of angels on your marriage days ; <br>Help with your presence, and devise to praise <br>These rites, which also unto you grow due ; <br>Conceitedly dress her, and be assign'd, <br>By you fit place for every flower and jewel ; <br>Make her for love fit fuel, <br>As gay as Flora and as rich as Ind ; <br>So may she, fair and rich in nothing lame, <br>To-day put on perfection, and a woman's name. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And you frolic patricians, <br>Sons of those senators, wealth's deep oceans ; <br>Ye painted courtiers, barrels of other's wits ; <br>Ye countrymen, who but your beasts love none ; <br>Ye of those fellowships, whereof he's one, <br>Of study and play made strange hermaphrodites, <br>Here shine ; this bridegroom to the temple bring. <br>Lo, in yon path which store of strew'd flowers graceth, <br>The sober virgin paceth ; <br>Except my sight fail, 'tis no other thing. <br>Weep not, nor blush, here is no grief nor shame, <br>To-day put on perfection, and a woman's name. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy two-leaved gates, fair temple, unfold, <br>And these two in thy sacred bosom hold, <br>Till mystically join'd but one they be ; <br>Then may thy lean and hunger-starvèd womb <br>Long time expect their bodies, and their tomb, <br>Long after their own parents fatten thee. <br>All elder claims, and all cold barrenness, <br>All yielding to new loves, be far for ever, <br>Which might these two dissever ; <br>Always, all th'other may each one possess ; <br>For the best bride, best worthy of praise and fame, <br>To-day puts on perfection, and a woman's name. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Winter days bring much delight, <br>Not for themselves, but for they soon bring night ; <br>Other sweets wait thee than these diverse meats, <br>Other disports than dancing jollities, <br>Other love-tricks than glancing with the eyes, <br>But that the sun still in our half sphere sweats ; <br>He flies in winter, but he now stands still. <br>Yet shadows turn ; noon point he hath attain'd ; <br>His steeds will be restrain'd, <br>But gallop lively down the western hill. <br>Thou shalt, when he hath run the heaven's half frame, <br>To-night put on perfection, and a woman's name. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The amorous evening star is rose, <br>Why then should not our amorous star inclose <br>Herself in her wish'd bed ? Release your strings, <br>Musicians ; and dancers take some truce <br>With these your pleasing labours, for great use <br>As much weariness as perfection brings. <br>You, and not only you, but all toil'd beasts <br>Rest duly ; at night all their toils are dispensed ; <br>But in their beds commenced <br>Are other labours, and more dainty feasts. <br>She goes a maid, who, lest she turn the same, <br>To-night puts on perfection, and a woman's name. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy virgin's girdle now untie, <br>And in thy nuptial bed, love's altar, lie <br>A pleasing sacrifice ; now dispossess <br>Thee of these chains and robes, which were put on <br>To adorn the day, not thee ; for thou, alone, <br>Like virtue and truth, art best in nakedness. <br>This bed is only to virginity <br>A grave, but to a better state, a cradle. <br>Till now thou wast but able <br>To be, what now thou art ; then, that by thee <br>No more be said, “ I may be,” but, “ I am,” <br>To-night put on perfection, and a woman's name. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even like a faithful man content, <br>That this life for a better should be spent, <br>So she a mother's rich stile doth prefer, <br>And at the bridegroom's wish'd approach doth lie, <br>Like an appointed lamb, when tenderly <br>The priest comes on his knees to embowel her. <br>Now sleep or watch with more joy ; and, O light <br>Of heaven, to-morrow rise thou hot, and early ; <br>This sun will love so dearly <br>Her rest, that long, long we shall want her sight. <br>Wonders are wrought, for she, which had no maim, <br>To-night puts on perfection, and a woman's name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Donne">John Donne</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419692" data-title="Epithalamion Made At Lincoln's Inn de John Donne" data-description="I 

HAIL sun-beams in the east are spread ; 
Leave, leave, fair bride, your solitary bed ; 
No more shall you return to it alone ; 
It nurseth sadness, and your body's print, 
Like to a grave, the yielding down doth dint ; 
You, and your other you..."></div>
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