Now I have found thee, I will evermore Embrace this standard where thou sitst above. Feed greedy eyes and from hence never rove, s** hungry soul of this eternal store, Issue my heart from thy two-leaved door, And let my lips from kissing not remove. O that I were transformèd into love, And as a plant might spring upon this flower; Like wandering ivy or sweet honeys**le, How would I with my twine about it buckle, And kiss his feet with my ambitious boughs, And climb along upon his sacred breast, And make a garland for his wounded brows. Lord, so I am if here my thoughts might rest.