Thou, that of all parts,
Merits’t to bee call’d,
The Roome, and Armarye of arts,
Which in Thee are wall’d,
There by the intellect inclos’d,
Mays’t bee to better use transpos’d.
Cast out this false ware,
And now bring me in,
An hollow scalpe, naked, and bare,
The relique of sinne;
This wormes fragment may doe more good,
Then painted papers, which there stood.
Those Foli’os hence throwe,
And that Picture bring,
Which doth a thousand tortures showe,
Guilty soules to sting:
This will doe better, then a storye,
That kindles self love, or vaine-glory.
Those guilte bookes sette by,
And in their roomes place,
The Palme, and Crowne; those ensignes high
Of th’ achieved race:
This Closett now, which was profane,
Is cleans’d, and become Christian.
(Ralph Knevet)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Christianity Poems, Place Poems, Art PoemsBased on Keywords: bookes, showe, inclos, roome, throwe, sette, wormes, palme, relique, storye, roomes