Philips establishes a logical argument for the rest of the poem by proposing certain ideas to Lucasia, the recipient of these verses. She begins this line of logic through the phrase miracles men's faith do move; a paradox occurs between the subject-verb phrase men's faith [do] move and miracles. Traditionally, miracles are a divine act, but in this line the faith of those who believe in God move or inspire the very existence of such miracles. Therefore, only faith can produce miracles, which would otherwise be freak accidents or strange coincidences. Philips proposes the use of similar miraculous phenomenon, wonder and Prodigy in order to prove that her love for Lucasia as an intimate friend is similar to the practices and dedication typical of religion. Interestingly, Philips seems to juxtapose the religion built by female love to that of men's faith. It may be that Philips wants to push against the dull, angry world's Puritanical ideas of friendship with her own perceptions of female companionship, which includes warmth, affection, and intimacy.

         The next stanza emphasizes the shift from traditional Christian companionship to close, significant friendships between women. She writes that herself and Lucasia were design'd t'agree, which means that women were created, presumably by God, to be companions due to physical and emotional similarity. This idea contrasts the biblical truth that God designed Eve as compatible companion for Adam in Eden, described by the poet John Milton in Paradise Lost. She goes on to write that they are as free as Angells, a simile that brings in more religious connotations. However, another paradox arises in the greedy choice that these Angells make; angels are attendants of God, and therefore do not have the capacity for choice since their choices are a reflection of God's will. Greedy choice signals the further departure from religious tradition. The last line of the stanza, [The Angells] are yet determin'd to their Joys, may be another reflection of Philips' desires overriding those of society, or moreover the desires of women in relation to those that society designates to them.

        In the third stanza, Philips invokes the metaphysical conceits of Shakespeare and John Donne to illustrate the unbreakable unity of reciprocal friendship. The duality of "doubled by their loss" resembles the paradoxical phrases of Shakespeare's poem, "The Phoenix and the Dove," especially the words "Two distincts, division none" (line 27). [12] Just as by mixture "is addition grown," so Philips strengthens the metaphor through intertextual reference. This line in particular derives its alchemical tone from Donne's verbal recipes in "The Exstasie:" [13]

    But as all severall soules containe
    Mixture of things, they know not what,
    Love, these mixt soules, doth mixe againe,
    And makes both one, each this and that. (ll. 33-36)

Following the Neoplatonic language of the Renaissance, Donne believed the soul emerged from the interplay of the four elements. [14] The balance of elements is then a testament to the inextricable nature of love. The union of hearts was a popular symbol for in 17th century England and even becomes the "seal" of friendship in another poem by Philips, "Friendship in Emblem, or the Seale, to my dearest Lucasia" [15]:

    The hearts thus intermixed speak
    A Love that no bold shock can break;
    For Joyn'd and growing, both in one,
    Neither can be disturb'd alone. (ll. 1-4)

        Finally, the last line of the stanza: "Never, yet ever, are alone," imparts emotional force through its repeated initial stresses and dramatic caesurae. The emphasis is so strong, in fact, that the second caesura splits the third foot in half, as if to demonstrate the impossibility of singleness:

     ' ^ || ' ' | ^ || ' | ^ '
    Never , yet ever, are alone.

        If the language of the first three stanzas, with its angels, joys, and promise, can be considered positive, then the diction of the latter half of the poem may be seen as negative. A sense of entrapment pervades these lines, and the language throughout draws heavily from male hetereosexual discourse. "We court our own captivity" (l. 16) offers the possibility of freedom through bondage, but this freedom is circumscribed by men's power. Jane Spencer suggests that "Orinda and Lucasia are imagined forming in their relationship a reconstituted monarchical state," which explains the diction of the lines "And all our titles shuffled so, / Both Princes, and both subjects, too" (ll. 24-25). [16] Furthermore, Philips turns the objects of male-to-male subjection, "fetters," into nothing more than "ornament." Her poem's final stanza, with its possible allusions to Romeo and Juliet (see Annotations), confers the benefits of heterosexual love to same-sex passion, but there remains a sense of tragedy and death to this relationship. Overall, Philips reappropriates men's language for positive intentions, but the love conceived in this poem is predetermined by its own terms.