Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds ;

Our Scripture-dew drops fast: We have our sands and serpents, tents and shrouds ;

Alas! our murmurings come not last.

But where's the cluster? where's the taste Of mine inheritance ? Lord, if I must borrow, Let me as well take up their joy, as sorrow.

But can he want the grape, who hath the wine ?

I have their fruit and more. Blessed be God, who prosper'd Noah's vine,

And made it bring forth grapes good store.

But much more him I must adore, Who of the law's sour juice sweet wine did make, E'en God himself, being pressed for my sake.


DEAR friend, sit down, the tale is long and sad :
And in my faintings I presume your love
Will more comply, than help. A Lord I had,
And have, of whom some grounds, which may im-
I hold for two lives, and both lives in me. (prove,
To him I brought a dish of fruit one day,
And in the middle placed my heart. But he

(I sigh to say)
Look'd on a servant, who did know his eye
Better than you know me, or (which is one)
Than I myself. The servant instantly
Quitting the fruit, seized on my heart alone,
And threw it in a font, wherein did fall

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A stream of blood, which issued from the side
Of a great rock: I well remember all,
And have good cause : there it was dipt and dyed,
And wash'd, and wrung: the very wringing yet
Enforceth tears. Your heart was foul, I fear.
Indeed 'tis true. I did and do commit
Many a fault more than my lease will bear;
Yet still ask'd pardon, and was not denied.
shall hear. After


heart was well, And clean and fair, as I one even-tide

(I sigh to tell)
Walk'd by myself abroad, I saw a large
And spacious furnace flaming, and thereon
A boiling caldron, round about whose verge
Was in great letters set AFFLICTION.
The greatness show'd the owner. So I went
To fetch a sacrifice out of my fold,
Thinking with that, which I did thus present,
To warm his love, which I did fear grew cold.
But as my heart did tender it, the man
Who was to take it from me, slipt his hand,
And threw my heart into the scalding pan;
My heart that brought it (do you understand ?)
The offerer's heart. Your heart was hard, I fear.
Indeed 'tis true. I found a callous matter
Began to spread and to expatiate there :
But with a richer drug, than scalding water,
I bathed it often, e'en with holy blood,
Which at a board, while many drank bare wine,
A friend did steal into my cup for good,
E'en taken inwardly, and most divine
To supple hardnesses. But at the length
Out of the caldron getting, soon I fled
Unto my house, where to repair the strength

Which I had lost, I hasted to my bed :
But when I thought to sleep out all these faults,

(I sigh to speak)
I found that some had stuff?d the bed with thoughts,
I would say thorns. Dear,could my heart not break,
When with my pleasures e'en my rest was gone?
Full well I understood, who had been there :
For I had given the key to none,

but one: It must be he. Your heart was dull, I fear. Indeed a slack and sleepy state of mind Did oft possess me, so that when I pray'd, Though my lips went, my heart did stay behind. But all my scores were by another paid, Who took the debt upon him. Truly, Friend, For ought I hear, your Master shows to you More favour than you wot of. Mark the end. The Font did only, what was old, renew : The Caldron suppled, what was grown too hard : The Thorns did quicken, what was grown too dull : All did but strive to mend, what you had marr’d. Wherefore be cheer'd, and praise him to the full Each day, each hour, each moment of the week, Who fain would have you be, new, tender, quick.


HARK, how the birds do sing,

And woods do ring.
All creatures have their joy, and man hath his.
Yet if we rightly measure,

Man's joy and pleasure
Rather hereafter, than in present, is.

To this life things of sense

Make their pretence : In the other Angels have a right by birth : Man ties them both alone,

And makes them one, (earth. With the one hand touching heaven, with the other

In soul he mounts and flies,

In flesh he dies. He wears a stuff whose thread is coarse and round, But trimm'd with curious lace,

And should take place After the trimming, not the stuff and ground.

Not, that he may not here

Taste of the cheer : But as birds drink, and straight lift up their head; So must he sip, and think

Of better drink He may

attain to, after he is dead.

But as his joys are double,

So is his trouble.
He hath two winters, other things but one :
Both frosts and thoughts do nip,

And bite his lip;
And he of all things fears two deaths alone.

Yet even the greatest griefs

May be reliefs, Could he but take them right, and in their ways. Happy is he, whose heart

Hath found the art To turn his double pains to double praise,


If as the winds and waters here below

Do fly and flow,
My sighs and tears as busy were above ;

Sure they would move
And much affect thee, as tempestuous times
Amaze poor mortals, and object their crimes.

Stars have their storms, e'en in a high degree,

As well as we.
A throbbing conscience spurred by remorse

Hath a strange force :
It quits the earth, and mounting more and more,
Dares to assault thee, and besiege thy door.

There it stands knocking, to thy music's wrong,

And drowns the song. Glory and honour are set by till it

An answer get. Poets have wrong'd poor storms: such days are best; They purge the air without, within the breast.


I BLESS thee, Lord, because I GROW
Among thy trees, which in a ROW
To thee both fruit and order ow.

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