I

Ye Sacred limbs, A richer blazon I will lay On you than first I found: That like celestial kings, Ye might with ornaments of joy Be always crown'd. A deep vermilion on a red, On that a scarlet I will lay, With gold I'll crown your head, Which like the Sun shall ray. With robes of glory and delight I'll make you bright. Mistake me not, I do not mean to bring New robes, but to display the thing: Nor paint, nor clothe, nor crown, nor add a ray, But glorify by taking all away.