When my grave is broke up again
Some second guest to entertain
(For graves have learn'd that woman head
To be to more than one a bed)
And he that digs it, spies
A bracelet of bright hair about the bone
Will he not let'us alone
And think that there a loving couple lies
Who thought that this device might be some way
To make their souls, at the last busy day
Meet at this grave, and make a little stay?

If this fall in a time, or land
Where mis-devotion doth command
Then he, that digs us up, will bring
Us to the bishop, and the king
To make us relics; then
Thou shalt be a Mary Magdalen, and I
A something else thereby;
All women shall adore us, and some men;
And since at such time miracles are sought
I would have that age by this paper taught
What miracles we harmless lovers wrought

First, we lov'd well and faithfully
Yet knew not what we lov'd, nor why;
Difference of sex no more we knew
Than our guardian angels do;
Coming and going, we
Perchance might kiss, but not between those meals;
Our hands ne'er touch'd the seals
Which nature, injur'd by late law, sets free;
These miracles we did, but now alas
All measure, and all language, I should pass
Should I tell what a miracle she was