Classic Poem

Could wee iudge here Most vertuous Madam then
Your Needle might receave Praise from our Pen:
But this our want bereaves it of that Part,
Whiles to Admire, and Thanke is all our Art.
The Worke deserves a Shrine: I should rehearse
Its Glories in a Storie, not a Verse.
Colours are mixt so subt'ly, that thereby
The stealth of Art both takes and cheates the Eye;
At once a Thousand wee can gaze upon,
But are deceav'd by theire Transition:
What toucheth is the same, Beame takes from Beame,
The Next still like, yet diffring in the extreame:
Here runnes This Track wee see, thither That tends,
But cann't say here This rose, or there that ends:
Thus whiles they creepe insensibly, wee doubt
Whether the one powres not the other out.
Faces so Quick and Livelie, that wee may
Feare, if wee turne our backs they'll steale away.
Postures of Greife so true, that wee may sweare
Your Artfull fingers have wrought Passion there.
View wee the Manger and the Babe, wee thence
Believe the verie Threads have Innocence:
Then on the Cross such Love, such Griefe wee finde,
As 'twere a Transcript of our Saviours minde.
Each Parcell so Expressive, each so fitt,
That the Whole seemes not so much wrought, as Writt.
'Tis Sacred Text all; wee may quote, and thence
Extract what may be press'd in our defence.
Blest Mother of the Church, be in the List
Reckon'd from hence the Shee-Evangelist:
Nor can the Style be Profanation, when
The Needle may convert more then the Pen;
When Faith may come by Seeing, and each Leafe
Rightly perus'd prove Gospell to the Deafe.
Had not St. Helen happ'ly found the Crosse,
By this your worke you had repayr'd that Losse.
Tell me not of Penelope, Wee doe
See a Webb here more Chast, and Sacred too.
Where are yee now, O Women, yee that sowe
Temptations, labouring to expresse the Bowe
And the Blind Archer; yee that rarely sett
To please your Loves a Venus in a Nett?
Turne your Skill hither; then wee shall (no doubt)
See the Kings Daughter glorious too without.
Women sow'd Idle Figg-leaves hitherto:
Eve's Nakednesse is onlie cloth'd by you.