I
Ye Sacred limbs,
A richer blazon I will lay
On you than first I found:
That like celestial kings,
Ye might with ornaments of joy
Be always crown'd.
A deep vermilion on a red,
On that a scarlet I will lay,
With gold I'll crown your head,
Which like the Sun shall ray.
With robes of glory and delight
I'll make you bright.
Mistake me not, I do not mean to bring
New robes, but to display the thing:
Nor paint, nor clothe, nor crown, nor add a ray,
But glorify by taking all away.