The Child in a Stranger’s Arms by Julia Palmer

Oh world, what means thy tempting charms
I’me like a litle Child
Infolded in, a strangers arms
whilst in thee, I am held

If the Child does, its father spy
it then can take no rest
But will strecth out, its arms, and cry
in’ts fathers arms to nest

Whatever you. to it can give
it will not satisfie
Nothing can to it give releife
But still t’will moane, and cry

Untill its father, do it take
and then its crys, doe cease
Its fathers arms can only make
it still, & be at peace

Oh pity Lord, my weary soull
still reaching after thee
And cannot rest, till thou condole
and strecth thine arms, to me

My soull cannot be quiet sung
with this worlds luluby
somthing There is that from thee sprung
that makes mee restlesly

Desire and long, once for to be
in thy sweet arms entwin’d
I cannot come, to reach att thee
whilst I am here confin’d

Thou hast more pity in thee Lord
then fathers, on the earth
I shall not then, be long in word
where is nought else, but dearth

Thy meaning’s hid, I know it not
but surely thou wilt own
Thy own desires thou’st in me wrought
and fecth me, to thy throne.

From: Millman, Jill Seal and Wright, Gillian (eds.), Early Modern Women’s Manuscript Poetry, 2005, Manchester University Press: Manchester and New York, pp. 171-172.

Date: 1671-1673

By: Julia Palmer (fl. 1671-1673)

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