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All only constant is in constant change ;

What done is, is undone, and when undone,

Into some other figure doth it range; Those stars, nay suns, which turn

Thus rolls the restless world beneath the Moon : So stately in their spheres,

Wherefore, my mind, above time, motion, place, And dazzling do not bum,

Aspire, and steps, not reach'd by nature, trace. The beauty of the morn Which on these cheeks appears, The harmony which to that voice is given,

A good that never satisfies the mind, Makes me think you are Heaven.

A beauty fading like the April show'rs, If Heaven you be, O! that by powerful charms

A sweet with floods of gall that runs combin'd, I Atlas were, infolded in your arms !

A pleasure passing ere in thought made ours,
A honour that more fickle is than wind,
A glory at opinion's frown that low'rs,

A treasury which bankrupt time devours,

A knowledge than grave ignorance more blind,

A vain delight our equals to command,
This dear, though not respected earth doth hold A style of greatness, in effect a dream,
One, for his worth, whose tomb should be of gold. A swelling thought of holding sea and land,

A servile lot, deck'd with a pompous name:

Are the strange ends we toil for bere below,

Till wisest death make us our errours knor.
Who would perfection's fair idea see,
On pretty Cloris let him look with me;

Life a right shadow is;
White is her hair, her teeth white, white her skin,

For if it long appear, Black be her eyes, her eye-brows Cupid's inn: Then is it spent, and death's long nigbt draws gear; Her locks, her body, hands do long appear, Shadows are moving, light, But teeth short, short her womb, and either ear, And is there ought so moving as is this? Thespace'twixt shoulders; eyes are wide, brow wide, when it is most in sight, Strait waist, the mouth strait, ard her virgin pride. It steals away, and none knows how or where, Thick are her lips, thighs, with banks swelling there, So near our cradles to our coffins are. Her nose is small, small fingers, and her hair, Her sugar'd mouth, her cheeks, her nails be red, Little her foot, breast little, and her head.

Look as the fow'r, which liog'ringly doth fade, Such Venus was, such was that fiame of Troy, The morning's darling late, the summer's queen, Such Cloris is, mine hope and only joy.

Spoil'd of that juice which kept it fresh and green,
As high as it did raise, bows low the head :
Just so the pleasures of my life being dead,

Or in their contraries but only seen,

With swifter speed declines than erst it spread,

And, blasted, scarce now shows what it hath been. AMIDST the waves profound,

Therefore, as doth the pilgrim, whom the night Far, far from all relief, The honest fisher Lalus, ah! is drown'd,

Hastes darkly to imprison on his way, Shut in this little skiff;

Think on thy home, my soul, and thiuk aright

Of what's yet left thee of life's wasting day: The boards of which did serve him for a bier, So that when he to the black world came near,

Thy sun posts westward, passed is thy morn, Of him no silver greedy Charon got;

And twice it is not given thee to be born.
For he in his own boat
Did pass that food, by which the gods do swear.

The weary mariner so far pot flies
An howling tempest, harbour to attain;
Nor shepherd hastes, when frays of wolves arise,
So fast to fold, to save his bleating train,

As I (wing'd with contempt and just disdain)

Now fy the world, and what it most doth prize,

And sanctuary seek, free to remain

From wounds of abject times, and envy's eyes:
To me this world did once seem sweet and fair,
While sense's light mind's perspective kept blind;
Now like imagin'd landscape in the air,

And weeping rainbows, her best joys I find :
TRIUMPHANT arches, statues crown'd with bays, Or if aught here is had that praise should have,
Proud obelisks, tombs of the vastest frame, It is an obscure life and silent grave.
Brazen Colosses, Atlases of fame,
And temples builded to vain deities' praise ;
States which unsatiate minds in blood do raise, Op this fair volume which we world do name,
From southern pole unto the arctic team,

If we the sheets and leaves could turn with care, And even what we write to keep our name, Of him who it corrects, and did it frame, Like spiders' cauls, are made the sport of days; We clear might read the art and wisdom rare,


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Find out his power which wildest powers doth tame, | There burst he forth. All ye whose hopes rely His providence extending every where,

On God, with me amidst these deserts mourn, His justice, which proud rebels doth not spare, Repent, repent, and from old errours turn." In erery page, no period of the same:

Who listen’d to his voice, obey'd his cry? But silly we, like foolish children, rest

Only the echoes, which he made relent, Well pleas'd with colour'd vellum, leaves of gold, Rung from their flinty caves, “ Repent, repent." Fair dangling ribbands, leaving what is best, On the great writer's sense ne'er taking hold; Or if by chance we stay our minds on aught,

“ These eyes, dear Lord, once tapers of desire, It is some picture on the margin' wrought.

Frail scouts betraying what they had to keep,
Which their own heart, then others set on fire,

Their trait'rous black before thee here oat-weep; Tub grief was common, common were the cries,

These locks of blushing deeds, the gilt attire, Tears, sobs, and groans of that afflicted train,

Waves curling, wreckful shelves to shadow deep, Which of God's chosen did the sum contain,

Rings, wedding souls to sin's lethargic sleep, And Earth rebounded with them, pierc'd were skies; To touch thy sacred feet do now aspire. All good had left the world, each vice did reign

In seas of care bchold a sinking bark, In the most monstrous sorts Hell could devise,

By winds of sharp remorse unto thee driven: And all degrees and each estate did stain,

O let me not be ruin's aim'd-at mark; Nor further had to go whom to surprise;

My faults confess'd, Lord, say they are forgiven." The world beneath, the prince of darkness lay,

Thus sigh'd to Jesus the Bethanian fair,
And in each temple had himself install'd,

His tear-wet feet still drying with her hair.
Was sacrific'd unto, by prayers call’d,
Responses gave, which, fools, they did obey;
When, pitying man, God of a virgin's womb
Was born, and those false deities struck dumb. “ I CHANGED countries new delights to find,

But, ah ! for pleasure I did find new pain;

Enchanting pleasure so did reason blind, “Run shepherds, run, where Bethlem blest appears;

That father's love and words I scorn'd as vain. We bring the best of news, be not dismay'd,

For tables rich, for bed, for following train A Saviour there is born, more old than years,

Of careful servants to observe my mind; Amidst the rolling Heaven this Earth who stay'd;

These herds I keep my fellows are assign'd, In a poor cottage inn'd, a virgin maid,

My bed's a rock, and herbs my life sustain. A weakling did him bear who all upbears;

Now while ) famine feel, fear worser harms, There he in clothes is wrapp'd, in manger laid,

Father and Lord, I turn, thy love, yet great, To whom too narrow swadlings are our spheres.

My faults will pardon, pity mine estate." Run, shepherds, run, and solemnize his birth;

This, where an aged oak had spread its arms, This is that night, no day, grown great with bliss,

Thought the lost child, while as the herds he led, In which the power of Satan broken is;

And pin’d with hunger, on wild acorns fed.
In Heaven be glory ; peace unto the Earth :"
Thus singing through the air the angels swam,
And all the stars re-echoed the same.

Ip that the world doth in amaze remain,
To hear in wbat a sad, deploring mood,

The pelican pours from her breast her blood,
" O THAN the fairest day, thrice fairer night, To bring to life her younglings back again;
Vight to best days, in which a sun doth rise, How should we wonder at that sovereign good,
Of which the golden eye which clears the skies Who from that serpent's sting that had us slain,
Is but a sparkling ray, a shadow light;

To save our lives, shed his life's purple flood, And blessed ye, in silly pastors' sight,

And turn'd to endless joy our endless pain! Mild creatures, in whose warm crib now lies Ungrateful soul, that charm’d with false delight, That heaven-sent youngling, holy-maid-born wight, Hast long, long wander'd in sin's flow'ry path, 'Midst, end, beginning of our prophecies :

And didst not think at all, or thought'st not right Blest cottage, that hath flow'rs in winter spread;

On this thy pelican's great love and death. (see Though wither'd, blessed grass, that hath the grace Here panse, and let (though Earth it scorn) Heaven To deck and be a carpet to that place.”

Thee pour forth tears to him pour'd blood for thee. Thus singing to the sounds of oaten reed, Before the babe the shepherds bow'd their knees, And springs ran nectar, honey dropp'd from trees.

Ir in the east when you do there behold

Forth from his crystal bed the Sun to rise,

With rosy robes and crown of Naming gold; " The last and greatest herald of Heaven's king, If gazing on that empress of the skies Girt with rough skins, bies to the deserts wild, That takes so many forms, and those fair brands Arnong that savage brood the woods forth bring, Which blazein Heaven's high vault, night's watchWhich he more barmless found than man, and mild. His food was locusts, and what there doth spring, If seeing how the sea's tumultuous bands With honey that from virgin hives distillid;

Of bellowing billows have their course confind; Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing How unsustain'd the Earth still stedfast stands; Wade him appear, long since from Earth exil'd. Poor mortal wights, you e'er found in your mind

ful eyes ;

A thought, that some great king did sit above, When days are done, and life's small spark is spent,

Who had such laws and rites to them assignd; So you accept what freely here is given, A king who fix'd the poles, made spheres to move, Like brood of angels deathless, all-coutent,

All wisdom, pureness, excellency, might, Ye shall for ever live with him in Heaven.

All goodness, greatness, justice, beauty, love ;-
With fear and wonder bither turn your sight,
See, see, alas! him now, not in that state

Come forth, come forth, ye blest triumphing bands, Thought could forecast him into reason's light.

Fair citizens of that immortal town; Now eyes with tears, now hearts with grief make Come see that king which all this all commards,

great, Bcmoan this cruel death and ruthful case,

Now, overcharg'd with love, die for his own:

Look on those nails, which pierce his feet and hands; If ever plaints just woe could aggravate :

What a sharp diadem his brows doth crown! From sin and Hell to save us human race,

Behold his pallid face, his heavy frown, See this great king nail'd to an abject tree,

And what a throng of thieves him mocking stands! An object of reproach and sad disgrace. O unheard pity! love in strange degree!

Come forth, ye empyrean troops, come forth,

Preserve this sacred blood that Eartb adoras, He his own life doth give, his blood doth shed,

Gather those liquid roses off his thords; For wormlings base such worthiness to see.

0! to be lost they be of too much worth: Poor wights! behold his visage pale as lead, His head bow'd to his breast, locks sadly rent,

For streams, juice, balm, they are, wbich quench,

kills, charms, Like a cropp'd rose, that languishing doth fade. Or God, Death, Hell, the wrath, the life, the harus. Weak nature, weep! astonish'd world, lament! Lament, you winds ! you Heaven, that all con

tains ! And thon, my soul, let nought thy griefs relent ! Soul, whom Hell did once inthral, Those hands, those sacred hands, which hold the reins He, he for thine offence

Of this great all, and kept from mutual wars Did suffer death, who could not die at all.

The elements, bare rent for thee their reins : O sovereign excellence! Those feet, which once must tread on golden stars,

O life of all that lives ! For thee with nails would be pierc'd through and Eternal bounty which each good thing gives! torn;

[bars : How could Death mount so high? For thee Heaven's king from leaven himself de- No wit this point can reach, This great heart-quaking dolour wail and mourn,

Faith only doth as teach,
Ye that long since him saw by might of faith,

He died for us at all who could not die.
Ye now that are, and ye yet to be born.
Not to behold his great Creator's death,

The Sun from sinful eyes hath veil'd his light,
And faintly journies up Heaven's sapphire pa. b; And Death display'd hath ensign against Death;

Life, to give life, deprived is of life,
And cutting from her prows her tresses bright

So violent the rigour was of Death, The Moon doth keep her Lord's sad obsequies,

That nought could daunt it but the Life of Life: Impearling with her tears her robe of night; All staggering and lazy lour the skies;

No power had power to thrall life's pow'rs to death, The earth and elemental stages quake;

But willingly life down hath laid his life. The long-since dead from bursted graves arise.

Love gave the wound which wrought this Fork of

And can things, wanting sense, yet sorrow take,
And bear a part with him who all them wrought, Now quakes the anthor of eternal death,

His bow and shafts were of the tree of life.
And man (though born with cries) shall pity lack?
Think what had been your state, had he not brought Sball fill his room above the lists of death;

To find that they whom late he reft of life,
To these sbarp pangs himself, and priz'd so high
Your souls, that with his life them life he bought! Dead Jesus lives, who Death bath kill'd hy Death;

Now all rejoice in death who hope for life. What woes do yon attend, if still ye lie

No tomb his tomb is, but new source of lite. Plung'd in your wonted ordures! Wretched brood!

Shall for your sake again God ever die?
O leave deluding shows, embrace true good,

He on you calls, forego sin's shameful trade; Rise from those fragrant climes, thee now embrace;
With prayers now seek Heaven, and not with Unto this world of ours, O haste thy race,

Fair Sun, and though contrary ways all year Let not the lambs more from their dams be had, Thou hold thy course, now with the highest share,

Nor altars blush for sin; live every thing; Join thy blue wheels to hasten time that low's,

That long time long'd-for sacrifice is made. And lazy minutes turn to perfect hours; All that is from you crav'd by this great king The night and death too long a league have made, Is to believe: a pure heart incense is.

To stow the world in horrour's ugly shade. What gift, alas! can we him meaner bring? Shake from thy locks a day with saffron rays Haste, sin-sick souls ! this season do not miss, So fair, that it outshine all other days; Now while remorseless time doth grant you and yet do not presume, great eye of light, space,

To be that which this day must make so bright. And God invites you to your only bliss:

Sce an eternal Sun hastes to arise; He who you calls will uot deny you grace,

Not from the eastern blushing seas or skies, But low-deep bury faults, so ye repent;

Or any stranger worlds Heaven's concares haver His arms, lo! stretched are, you to embrace. But from the darkness of an hollow grave.

And this is that all-powerful Sun above [move. | Stern executioner of heavenly doom,
That crown'd thy brows with rays, first made thee Marle fruitful, now life's mother art become;
Light's truis peters, ye need not from your bow'rs A sweet relief of cares the soul molest;
Proclaim this day ; this the angelic pow'rs An harbinger to glory, peace and rest:
Have done for you : but now an opal hue

Put off thy mourning weeds, yield all thy gall
Bepaints Heaven's crystal to the longing view : To daily sinning life, proud of thy fall;
Earth's late-hid colours shine, light doth adorn Assemble all thy captives, haste to rise,
The world, and, weeping joy, forth comes the morn; And every corse, in earthquakes where it lies,
And with her, as from a lethargic trance

Sound from each flowry grave and rocky jail:
The breath return'd, that bodies doth advance, Hal, holy victor! greatest victor, hail!
Which two sad nights in rock lay coffin'd dead, The world, that wanning late and faint did lie,
And with an iron guard environed :

Applauding to our joys, thy victory,
Life out of death, light out of darkness springs, To a young prime essays to turn again,
From a base jail forth comes the King of kings; And as ere soil'd with sin yet to remain ;
What late was mortal, thrall’d to every woe Her chilling agues she begins to miss ;
That lackeys life, or upon sense doth grow,

All bliss return ng with the Lord of bliss.
Immortal is, of an eternal stamp,

With greater light, Heaven's temples opened shine; Far brighter beaming than the morning lamp. Morns siniling rise, evens blushing do decline, So from a black eclipse out-peers the Sun : Clouds dappled glister, boist'rous winds are calm, Sach (when her course of days have on her run, Soft zephyrs do the fields with sighs embalm, In a far forest in the pearly east,

In silent calms the sea hath hush'd his roars, And she herself hath burnt, and spicy nest,) And with enamour'd curls doth kiss the shores; The lovely bird with youthful pens and comb, All-bearing Earth, like a new-married queen, Doth soar from out her cradle and her tomb: Her beauties beightens, in a gown of green So a small seed that in the earth lies hid,

Perfumes the air, her meads are wrought with flow'rs, And dies, reviving bursts her cloddy side,

In colours various, figures, smelling, pow'rs; Adorn'd with yellow locks anew is born,

Trees wanton in the groves with leavy locks, And doth become a mother great with corn; Here hills enameli'd stand, the vales, the rocks, Of grains bring, hundreds with it, which when old Ring peals of joy, here floods and prattling brooks, Enrich the furrows, which do float with gold. (Stars' liquid mirrors) with serpenting crooks, Hail, boly victor! greatest victor, hail !

And whispering murmurs, sound unto the main, That Heli doth ransack, against Death prevail. The golden age returned is again. 0! how thou long'd for com’sı ! With joyful cries, The honey people leave their golden bow'rs, The all-triumphing palatines of skies

And innocently prey on budding flow'rs; Salute thy rising ; Earth would joys no more In gloomy shades, perch'd on the tender sprays, Bear, if thou rising didst thein not restore.

The painted singers fill the air with lays: A silly tomb shonid not his flesh enclose,

Seas, floods, earth, air, all diversely do sound, Who did Heaven's trembling terrasses dispose ; Yet all their diverse potes hath but one ground, No monument should such a jewel hold,

Re-echu'd here down from Heaven's azure vail; No rock, though ruby, diamond, and gold.

Hail, holy victor! greatest victor, hail! Thou didst lament and pity human race,

O day, on which Death's adamantine chain Bestowing on us of thy free-given grace

The Lord did break, did ransack Satan's reign, More than we forfeited and losed first,

And in triumphing pomp his trophies rear'd, In Eden rebels when we were accurst.

Be thou blest ever, henceforth still endear'd Then Earth our portion was, Earth's juys but given, With name of his own day, the law to grace, Earth, and Earth's bliss, thou hast exchang’d with Types to their substance yield, to thee give place Heaven.

The old new-moons, with all festival days;
0! what a beight of good upon us streams And, what above the rest deserveth praise,
From the great splendour of thy bounty's beams! The reverend sabbath: what could else they be
When we deserv'd shame, horrour, flames of wrath, | Thau golden heralds, telling what by thee
Thon bled 'st our wounds, and suffer didst our death: We should enjoy? Shades past, now shine thou
But Father's just ce pleas'd, Hell, Death, o'ercome,

In triumph now thou riseth from thy tomb, And henceforth be thon empress of the year,
With glories, which past sorrows countervail ; This glory of thy sister's sex to win,
Hail, holy victor! greatest victor, hail !

Prom work on thee, as other days from sin, Hence, humble sense, and hence ye guides of That mankind shall forbear, in every place sense!

The prince of planets warmeth in bis race, We now reach Heaven; your weak intelligence And far beyond his paths in frozen climes : And searching pow'rs were in a flash made dim, And may thou be so blest to out-date times, To learn from all eternity, that him

That when Heaven's choir shall blaze in accents loud The Father bred, then that he here did come The many mercies of their sovereign good, (His bearer's parent) in a virgiu's womb: [thorn, How he on thee did Sin, Death, Hell destroy, But then when sold, betray'd, crown'd, scourg'd with It may be still the burthen of their joy. Nail'd to a tree, all breathless, bloodless, torn, Entomb'd, him risen from a grave to find, Copfounds your cunning, turns,like moles, you blind. Death, thou that heretofore still barren wast, BENEATH a sable veil, and shadows deep, Nay, didst each other birth eat up and waste,

Of inaccessible and dimming light, Imperious, hateful, pitiless, upjust,

In silence ebon clouds more black than night, Unpartial equaller of all with dust,

The world's great Mind his secrets bid doth keep: VOL V.


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Through those thick mists when any mortal wight
Aspires, with halting pace, and eyes that weep
To pry, and in his mysteries to creep,
With thunders he and lightnings blasts their sight. And lean to gilded glories which decay?

Why, wordlings, do ye trust frail honour's dreami,
O Sun invisible, that dost abide
Within thy bright abysmes, most fair, most dark,

Why do ye toil to registrate your names Where with thy proper rays thou dost thee hide,

On icy pillars, which soon melt away?

True honour is not here, that place it claims O ever-shining, never full-seen mark,

Where black-brow'd night doth not exile the day,
To guide me in life's night, thy light me show;
The more I search of thee the less I know.

Nor no far-shining lamp dives in the sea,
But an eternal Sun spreads lasting beams;
There it attendeth you, wbere spotless bands

Of sp'rits stand gazing on their sovereigo bliss, Ir with such passing beauty, choice delights,

Where years not hold it in their cank'ring hands, The Architect of this great round did frame

But wbo once noble, ever noble is. This palace visible, short lists of fame,

Look home, lest he your weaken'd wit make thrall

, And silly mansion but of dying wights;

Who Eden's foolish gard'ner erst made fall
How many wonders, what amazing lights
Must that triumphing seat of glory claim,
That doth transcend all this all's vasty heights,
Of whose bright Sun, ours here is but a beam ! As are those apples, pleasant to the eye,
O blest abode! O happy dwelling-place!

But full of smoke within, which use to grow
Where visibly th' Invisible duth reign;

Near that strange lake where God pour'd from the Blest people, which do see true Beauty's face,

sky With whose far shadows scarce he Earth doth deign: Fluge show'rs of flames, worse flames to overtbros; All joy is but annoy, all concord strife,

Such are their works that with a glaring sbon Match'd with your endless bliss and happy life. Of humble holiness in virtue's dye

Would colour mischief, while witbin they glow

With coals of sin, though none the smoke descry. Love which is here a care,

Bad is that angel that erst fell from Heaven; That wit and will doth mar,

But not so bad as he, nor in worse case, Uncertain truce, and a most certain war;

Who hides a trait'rous mind with smiling face, A shrill tempestuous wind,

And with a dore's white feathers clothes a rares. Which doth disturb the mind,

Each sin some colour hatb it to adorn,
And like wild waves all our designs commove;

Hypocrisy Almighty God doth scora.
Among those powers above,
Which see their maker's face,
It a contentment is, a quiet peace,
A pleasure void of grief, a constant rest,

New doth the Sun appear,
Eternal joy, which nothing can molest.

The mountains' snows decay,
Crown'd with frail flow'rs forth comes the infast


My soul, time posts away, Tuat space, where curled waves do now divide

And thou, yet in that frost
From the great coutinent our happy isle,

Which flow'r and fruit hath lost,
Was sometime land; and now where ships do glide, As if all here immortal were, dost stay:
Once with laborious art the plough did toil :

For shame! thy powers awake,
Once those fair bounds stretch'd out so far and wide, Look to that Heaven which never night wale
Where towns, no shires enwall’d, endear each mile,

black, Were all ignoble sea and marish vile,

And there at that immortal Sun's brigbt rays, Where Proteus'flocks danc'd measures to the tide:

Deck thee with flow'rs, which fear not rage of days So age transforming all, still forward runs ; No wonder though the Earth doth change her face, New manners, pleasures new, turn with new suns, Locks now like gold grow to an hoary grace; Nay, mind's rare shape doth change, that lies de- far from the clamorous world, doth live bis on,

THRice happy he who by some shady grove, spis'd Which was so dear of late, and highly priz'd.

Though solitary, who is not alone,
But doth converse with that eternal lore.
O how more sweet is birds' harmonious meas,

Or the hoarse sobbings of the widow'd dore, This world a hunting is,

Than those smooth whisp'rings near a presce's The prey, poor mau; the Nimrod fierce, is Death; throne, His speedy greyhounds are,

Which good make doubtful, do the evil approre! Lust, Sickness, Envy, Care;

0! how more sweet is zephyrs' wbolesome bresti Strife that ne'er falls amiss,

And sighs embalm'd, which new-boru tow'ss ? With all those ills which haunt us while we breathe. Now, if by chance we fly

Than that applause vain honour doth bequeath Of these the eager chace,

How sweet are streams to poison drank in gold Old age with stealing pace

The world is full of horroirs, troubles, slights: Casts on his nets, and there we panting die. Woods' harmless shades have only true delights


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