He who craves all the mind, And all the soul, and strength, and time, Justly complains, that somewhat is behind Whereas if the heart be moved, Although the verse be somewhat scant, God doth supply the want. As when the heart says (sighing to be approved) O, could I love! and stops; God writeth, Loved. CXXXVIII. THE ANSWER. My comforts drop and melt away like snow: I shake my head, and all the thoughts and ends, N CXXXIX. A DIALOGUE-ANTHEM. CHRISTIAN, death. Chr. ALAS, poor death! where is thy glory? Where is thy famous force, thy ancient sting? Dea. Alas, poor mortal, void of story, Go spell and read how I have kill'd thy king. Chr. Poor death! and who was hurt thereby? Thy curse being laid on him makes thee ac[curst. Dea. Let losers talk, yet thou shalt die; do thy worst. I shall be one day better than before: more. CXL. THE WATER-COURSE. THOU who dost dwell and linger here below, For who can look for less, that lovet { Life. Strife. But rather turn the pipe, and water's course Who gives to man, as he sees fit, { Salvation. Damnation. CXLI. SELF-CONDEMNATION. THOU who condemnest Jewish hate, For choosing Barabbas a murderer Before the Lord of glory; Look back upon thine own estate, He that doth love, and love amiss This world's delights before true Christian joy, Hath made a Jewish choice: The world an ancient murderer is ; Thousands of souls it hath and doth destroy With her enchanting voice. He that hath made a sorry wedding Between his soul and gold, and hath preferr'd False gain before the true, Hath done what he condemns in reading: For he hath sold for money his dear Lord, Thus we prevent the last great day, And judge ourselves. That light which sin and passion Did before dim and choke, When once those snuffs are ta'en away, Shines bright and clear, e'en unto condemnation, Without excuse or cloak. CXLII. BITTER-SWEET. Aн, my dear angry Lord, I will complain, yet praise; CXLIII. THE GLANCE. WHEN first thy sweet and gracious eye Vouchsafed e'en in the midst of youth and night To look upon me, who before did lie Weltering in sin; I felt a sugar'd strange delight, Passing all cordials made by any art, Since that time many a bitter storm But still thy sweet original joy, Sprung from thine eye, did work within my soul, And surging griefs, when they grew bold, control, And got the day. If thy first glance so powerful be, A mirth but open'd, and seal'd up again; When thou shalt look us out of pain, And one aspect of thine spend in delight CXLIV. THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM. THE God of love my shepherd is, While he is mine, and I am his, What can I want or need? He leads me to the tender grass, Where I both feed and rest; Or if I stray, he doth convert, And bring my mind in frame: |