Tears.

Tears, though they're here below the sinner's brine,
Above, they are the Angels' spiced wine.

God from our eyes all tears hereafter wipes,
And gives His children kisses then, not stripes.

Tears most prevail; with tears, too, thou may'st move
Rocks to relent, and coyest maids to love.

Our present tears here, not our present laughter,
Are but the handsels of our joys hereafter.

Glide, gentle streams, and bear
Along with you my tear
To that coy girl
Who smiles, yet slays
Me with delays,
And strings my tears as pearl.

See! see, she's yonder set,
Making a carcanet
Of maiden-flowers!
There, there present
This orient
And pendant pearl of ours.

Then say I've sent one more
Gem to enrich her store;
And that is all
Which I can send,
Or vainly spend,
For tears no more will fall.

Nor will I seek supply
Of them, the spring's once dry;
But I'll devise,
Among the rest,
A way that's best
How I may save mine eyes.

Yet say - should she condemn
Me to surrender them
Then say my part
Must be to weep
Out them, to keep
A poor, yet loving heart.

Say too, she...

'Tis not greatness they require
To be offer'd up by fire;
But 'tis sweetness that doth please
Those Eternal Essences.