On Mary’s Assumption
Our Lady’s body suffered not decay,
Exempt from the determined consequence
Of carnal lust and fell concupiscence,
The penalty which Adam’s kind all pay.
Do I then rave if I speak of a Day
When an archangel’s shout will call me thence,
Embodied soul, to get my recompense
For what I said, did, did not do, or say;
Or speculate that I will then be changed
Into a wholesome, holy entity
In which the atoms have been re-arranged
By my Redeemer, who I then shall see
In this my flesh? I am, perhaps, deranged
While hope defies impossibility.