Courage, my Soul, now learn to weild
  The weight of thine immortal shield. 
  Close on thy head thy helmet bright;
  Ballance thy sword against the fight. 
  See where an army, strong as fair,
  With silken banners spreads the air. 
  Now, if thou be’st that thing divine,
  In this day’s combat let it shine;
  And shew that nature wants an art
  To conquer one resolved heart.

  Pleasure.

  Welcome the creation’s guest,
  Lord of earth, and heaven’s heir;
  Lay aside that warlike crest,
  And of nature’s banquet share: 
  Where the Souls of fruits and flow’rs,
  Stand prepar’d to heighten yours.

  Soul.

  I sup above, and cannot stay,
  To bait so long upon the way.

  Pleasure.

  On these downy pillows lye,
  Whose soft plumes will thither fly: 
  On these roses, strew’d so plain
  Lest one leaf thy side should strain. 
  Soul.

  My gentler rest is on a thought,
  Conscious of doing what I ought.

  Pleasure.

  If thou be’st with perfumes pleas’d,
  Such as oft the gods appeas’d,
  Thou in fragrant clouds shalt show
  Like another god below.

  Soul.

  A Soul that knows not to presume,
  Is heaven’s, and its own, perfume.

  Pleasure.

  Every thing does seem to vye
  Which should first attract thine eye;
  But since none deserves that grace,
  In this crystal view thy face.

  Soul.

  When the creator’s skill is priz’d,
  The rest is all but earth disguis’d.

  Pleasure.

  Hark how music then prepares,
  For thy stay, these charming airs;
  Which the posting winds recall,
  And suspend the river’s fall. 
  Soul.

  Had I but any time to lose,
  On this I would it all dispose. 
  Cease Tempter.  None can chain a mind,
  Whom this sweet cordage cannot bind.

  Chorus.

  Earth cannot shew so brave a sight,
  As when a single Soul does fence
  The batt’ry of alluring sense,
  And Heaven views it with delight. 
    Then persevere; for still new charges sound;
    And if thou overcom’st thou shalt be crown’d.

  Pleasure.

  All that’s costly, fair, and sweet,
    Which scatteringly doth shine,
  Shall within one beauty meet,
    And she be only thine.

  Soul.

  If things of sight such heavens be,
  What heavens are those we cannot see?

  Pleasure.

  Wheresoe’er thy foot shall go
    The minted gold shall lye;
  Till thou purchase all below,
    And want new worlds to buy.

  Soul.

  Wer’t not for price who’d value gold? 
  And that’s worth nought that can be sold.