Nay, it shall every year decrease and fade,
Till such a darkness do the world invade
At Christ's last coming, as His first did find :
Yet must there such proportions be assign'd
To these diminishings, as is between
The spacious world and Jewry to be seen.
Religion stands on tiptoe in our land,
Ready to pass to the American strand.
When height of malice, and prodigious lusts,
Impudent sinning, witchcrafts, and distrusts,
(The marks of future bane,) shall fill our cup
Unto the brim, and make our measure up;
When Seine shall swallow Tiber; and the Thames
By letting in them both, pollutes her streams;
When Italy of us shall have her will,
And all her calendar of sins fulfil;
Whereby one may foretell what sins next year
Shall both in France and England domineer:
Then shall religion to America flee:
They have their times of Gospel, e'en as we.
My God, Thou dost prepare for them a way,
By carrying first their gold from them away;
For gold and grace did never yet agree:
Religion always sides with poverty.
We think we rob them, but we think amiss:
We are more poor, and they more rich by this.
Thou wilt revenge their quarrel, making grace
Το pay our debts, and leave our ancient place
To go to them, while that which now their nation
But lends to us shall be our desolation.
Yet as the Church shall thither westward fly,
So Sin shall trace and dog her instantly:
They have their period also and set times
Both for their virtuous actions and their crimes.
And where of old the empire and the arts
Usher'd the Gospel ever in men's hearts,
Spain hath done one; when arts perform the other,
The Church shall come, and Sin the Church shall smother:
That, when they have accomplished the round, And met in the East their first and ancient sound, Judgment may meet them both, and search them
Thus do both lights, as well in Church as Sun,
Light one another, and together run.
Thus also Sin and Darkness follow still
The Church and Sun with all their power and
But as the Sun still goes both west and east,
So also did the Church, by going west,
Still eastward go; because it drew more near
To time and place, where judgment shall appear.
How dear to me, O God, Thy counsels are!
Who may with Thee compare
KING of glory, King of peace,
With the one make war to cease;
With the other bless Thy sheep,
Thee to love, in Thee to sleep.
Let not sin devour Thy fold,
Bragging that Thy blood is cold;
That Thy death is also dead,
While his conquests daily spread;
That thy flesh hath lost his food,
And Thy cross is common wood.
Choke him, let him say no more,
But reserve his breath in store,
Till Thy conquest and his fall
Make his sighs to use it all;
And then bargain with the wind
To discharge what is behind.
Blessed be God alone,
Thrice blessed Three in One.
SENT BY GEORGE HERBERT TO HIS MOTHER AS A NEWYEAR'S GIFT FROM CAMBRIDGE.
My God, where is that ancient heat towards Thee Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did
Besides their other flames?
Wear Venus' livery? only serve her turn? Why are not sonnets made of Thee? and lays Upon Thine altar burnt? Cannot Thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out Thy praise
As well as any she? Cannot Thy Dove Outstrip their Cupid easily in flight?
Or, since Thy ways are deep, and still the same, Will not a verse run smooth that bears Thy
Why doth that fire, which by Thy power and
Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose Than that which, one day, worms may chance refuse?
Sure, Lord, there is enough in Thee to dry
Oceans of ink; for, as the deluge did
Cover the earth, so doth Thy Majesty:
Each cloud distils Thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use.
Roses and lilies speak Thee; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse. Why should I women's eyes for crystal take? Such poor invention burns in their low mind Whose fire is wild, and doth not upward go To praise, and on Thee, Lord, some ink bestow. Open the bones, and you shall nothing find In the best faith but filth; when, Lord, in Thee The beauty lies in the discovery.
IN THE PARSONAGE, BEMERTON.
TO MY SUCCESSOR.
IF thou chance for to find
A new house to thy mind,
And built without thy cost:
Be good to the poor,
As God gives thee store,
And then my labor's not lost.
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