« ForrigeFortsett »
The Thief, when he doth steal, thinks he doth gain;
Perhaps thou'lt say, the halter I defy ;
Hear thou the word of God ; that will thee tell, Without repentarce, Thieves must go to hell. But should it be as thy false prophet says, Yet nought but loss doth come by thievish ways.
All honest men will flee thy company, Thou livest a rogue, and so a roglie will die. Innocent boldness thou hast none at all, Thy inward thoughts do thee a villain call.
Sometimes, when thou ly'st warmly in thy bed, Thou art like one unto the gallows led. Fear, as a Constable, breaks in upon thee, Thou art as if the town was up to stone thee.
If hogs do grunt, or silly rats do rustle, Thou art in consternation; think'st a bustle By men about the door is made to take thee; And all because good conscience doth forsake thee.
Thy case is so deplorable and bad,
Wherefore, I pr'ithee, thief, thy theft forbear;
As to the penitent thou readest of,
Nor is that grace at thy command or power,
I pr'ithee Thief, think on't, and turn betime:
THE CHILD WITH THE BIRD ON THE
And sing amidst so many thorus !
My love with honour thee adorns. Thou art at present little worth ;
Five farthings none will give for thee: But, pr’ithee little bird, come forth,
Thou of more value art to me. Tis true, it is sun-shine to-day,
To-morrow birds will have a storm ; My pretty one, come thou away,
My bosom then shall keep tbee warm. Thou subject art to cold o'nights,
When darkness is thy covering; At day thy danger's great by kites,
How canst thou then sit there and sing. Thy food is scarce and scanty too,
'Tis worms and trash which thou dost eat, Thy present state 1 pity do,
Come, i'll provide thee better meat. I'll feed thee with white bread and milk,
Aud sugar-plums if thou them crave; I'll cover thee with finest silk,
That from the cold I may thee save. My father's palace shall be thive;
Yea, in it ihon shalı sit and sing : My little Bird, if thou'lt be mine,
The whole year round shall be thy spring. --|
I'll teach thee all the notes at court;
Unthought of music thou shalt play: And all that thither do resort
Shall praise thee for it ev'ry day. I'll keep thee safe from cat and cur;
No manner o'harm shall come to thee: Yea, I will be thy succourer,
My bosom shall thy cabiu be. But lo, behold, the Bird is gone!
These charmings would not make her yield : The Child's left at the bush alone,
The Bird flies yonder o'er the field.
This Child, of Christ an emblem is,
Which do surround him ev'ry where.
Are emblems of those foolish toys,
The fruit of worldly empty joys.
To draw to him a Bird thus wild,
To make him to be reconciled. The Bird in that she takes her wing,
To speed her from him after all, Shews us vain Man loves any thing
Much better than the heavenly call.
MOSES AND HIS WIFE
This Moses was a fair and comely man ;
Nor did his milk-white bosom change her skin,
Now Moses was a type of Moses' Law,
The law is very holy, just, and good;
any that are wedded thereunto.
This Rose doth always bow its head to me,
This looks like a trepan, or a decoy,
Bush, why dost bear a rose, if none must have it;
This Rose God's Son is with his ruddy looks;
This Bush an emblem is of Adam's race,
Commended to us in His crimson blood,
Thus Adam's race did bear this dainty Rose,
THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN.
What, hast thou run thy race? art going down?
And if our Sun seems angry, hides his face,