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What open force, or hidden CHARM
Can blast my fruit, or bring me HARM,
While the inclosure is thine ARM ?

Inclose me still for fear I START.
Be to me rather sharp and TART,
Than let me want thy hand and art.

When thou dost greater judgments SPARE,
And with thy knife but prune
E'en fruitful trees more fruitful ARE.

and PARE,

Such sharpness shows the sweetest FRIEND:
Such cuttings rather heal than
And such beginnings touch their END,



Poor heart, lament.
For since thy God refuseth still,
There is some rub, some discontent,

Which cools his will.

Thy Father could
Quickly effect, what thou dost move ;
For he is Power: and sure he would ;

For he is Love.

Go search this thing,
Tumble thy breast, and turn thy book :
If thou hadst lost a glove or ring,

Wouldst thou not look ?

What do I see
Written above there? Yesterday
I did behave me carelessly,

When I did pray.

And should God's ear
To such indifferents chained be,
Who do not their own motions hear?

Is God less free?

But stay! what's there?
Late when I would have something done,
I had a motion to forbear,

Yet I went on.

And should God's ear,
Which needs not man, be tied to those
Who hear not him, but quickly hear

His utter foes ?

Then once more pray:
Down with thy knees, up with thy voice :
Seek pardon first, and God will say,

Glad heart, rejoice.


As men, for fear the stars should sleep and nod,

And trip at night, have spheres supplied ; As if a star were duller than a clod,

Which knows his way without a guide :

Just so the other heaven they also serve,

Divinity's transcendent sky: Which with the edge of wit they cut and carve.

Reason triumphs, and faith lies by.

Could not that wisdom, which first broach'd the wine,

Have thicken'd it with definitions ? And jagg’d his seamless coat, had that been fine,

With curious questions and divisions ?

But all the doctrine, which he taught and gave,

Was clear as heaven, from whence it came. At least those beams of truth, which only save,

Surpass in brightness any flame.

Love God, and love your neighbour. Watch and

Do as you would be done unto. (pray. O dark instructions, e'en as dark as day !

Who can these Gordian knots undo?

But he doth bid us take his blood for wine.

Bid what he please ; yet I am sure, To take and taste what he doth there design,

Is all that saves, and not obscure.

Then burn thy Epicycles, foolish man;

Break all thy spheres, and save thy head; Faith needs no staff of Aesh, but stoutly can

To Heaven alone both go, and lead.



And art thou grieved, sweet and sacred Dove,

When I am sour,

And cross thy love ?
Grieved for me? the God of strength and power

Grieved for a worm, which when I tread,
I pass away

and leave it dead ?

Then weep,

mine eyes, the God of love doth grieve:

Weep foolish heart,

And weeping live;
For death is dry as dust. Yet if ye part,

End as the night, whose sable hue
Your sins express ; melt into dew.


mirth shall knock or call at door,
Cry out, Get hence,

Or cry no more.
Almighty God doth grieve, he puts on sense :

I sin not to my grief alone,
But to my God's too; he doth groan.

Oh take thy lute, and tune it to a strain,



with thee

All day complain.
There can no discord but in ceasing be.

Marbles can weep; and surely strings
More bowels have, than such hard things.

Lord, I adjudge myself to tears and grief,

E’en endless tears

Without relief.
If a clear spring for me no time forbears,

But runs, although I be not dry;
I am no Crystal, what shall I ?

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Yet if I wail not still, since still to wail

Nature denies;

And flesh would fail,
If my deserts were masters of mine eyes :

Lord, pardon, for thy son makes good
My want of tears with store of blood.


What doth this noise of thoughts within my heart,

As if they had a part ?
What do these loud complaints and pulling fears,

As if there were no rule or ears?

But, Lord, the house and family are thine,

Though some of them repine.
Turn out these wranglers, which defile thy seat:

For where thou dwellest all is neat.

First Peace and Silence all disputes control,

Then Order plays the soul ;
And giving all things their set forms and hours,

Makes of wild woods sweet walks and bowers.

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