Those priests which first the Vestal fire begun, 
Which might be borrow'd from no earthly flame, 
Devis'd a vessel to receive the Sun, 
Being steadfastly opposed to the same; 
Where, with sweet wood, laid curiously by art, 
On which the Sun might by reflection beat, 
Receiving strength from every secret part, 
The fuel kindled with celestial heat. 
Thy blessed eyes the sun which lights this fire, 
Thy holy thoughts, they be the Vestal flame, 
The precious odors be my chaste desire, 
My breast's the vessel which includes the same. 
Thou art my Vesta, thou my Goddess art; 
Thy hallow'd temple only is my Heart.