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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 treasury which bankrupt time devours,
A knowledge than grave ignorance more blind,
A vain delight our equals to command,
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.
Life a right shadow is;
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,
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.
The weary mariner so far pot flies
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:
And weeping rainbows, her best joys I find :
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,
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,
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,
His tear-wet feet still drying with her hair.
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.
Ip that the world doth in amaze remain,
The pelican pours from her breast her blood,
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 ;-
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,
He died for us at all who could not die.
The Sun from sinful eyes hath veil'd his light,
Life, to give life, deprived is of life,
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
His bow and shafts were of the tree of life.
To find that they whom late he reft of life,
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?
He on you calls, forego sin's shameful trade; Rise from those fragrant climes, thee now embrace;
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,
Put off thy mourning weeds, yield all thy gall
Sound from each flowry grave and rocky jail:
Applauding to our joys, thy victory,
All bliss return ng with the Lord of bliss.
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;
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.
Through those thick mists when any mortal wight
Why, wordlings, do ye trust frail honour's dreami,
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,
Nor no far-shining lamp dives in the sea,
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
But full of smoke within, which use to grow
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,
Hypocrisy Almighty God doth scora.
New doth the Sun appear,
The mountains' snows decay,
My soul, time posts away, Tuat space, where curled waves do now divide
And thou, yet in that frost
Which flow'r and fruit hath lost,
For shame! thy powers awake,
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,
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