II
As if the tidings were the things,
My very joys themselves, my foreign treasure,
Or else did bear them on their wings;
With so much joy they came, with so much pleasure.
My Soul stood at that gate
To recreate
Itself with bliss: And to
Be pleased with speed. A fuller view
It fain would take,
Yet journeys back would make
Unto my heart: as if 'twould fain
Go out to meet, yet stay within
To fit a place, to entertain,
And bring the tidings in.