ROBERT HERRICK

274. His Wind ing- sheet

COME thou, who art the wine and wit Of all I've writ : The grace, the glory, and the best

Piece of the rest. Thou art of what I did intend

The all and end ; And what was made, was made to meet

Thee, thee, my sheet. Come then and be to my chaste side

Both bed and bride : We two, as reliques left, will have

One rest, one grave : And hugging close, we will not fear

Lust entering here : Where all desires are dead and cold

As is the mould ; And all affections are forgot,

Or trouble not. Here, here, the slaves and prisoners be

From shackles free : And weeping widows long oppress'd

Do here find rest. The wronged client ends his laws

Here, and his cause. Here those long suits of Chancery lie

Quiet, or die : And all Star-Chamber bills do cease

Or hold their peace. Here needs no Court for our Request

Where all are best, All wise, all equal, and all just

Alike i' th' dust.

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