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When, lo! that great and fearful God of might
To that fair Hebrew strangely doth appear, In a bush, burning visible and bright,
Yet unconsuming, as no fire there were : With hair erected, and upturned eyes,
Whilst he, with great astonishment admires, Lo! that Eternal Rector of the skies
Thus breathes to Moses from those quickening fires :
“Shake off thy sandals," saith the thundering God,
“ With humbled feet my wondrous power to sce; For that the soil where thou hast boldly trod,
Is most select and hallowed unto me:
“ The righteous Abraham for his God me knew,
Isaac and Jacob trusted in my name, And did believe my covenant was true,
Which to their seed shall propagate the same.
“My folk that long in Egypt had been barred,
Whose cries have entered heaven's eternal gate, Our zealous mercy openly hath heard,
Kneeling in tears at our Eternal State ;
“ And am come down, then, in the land to see,
Where streams of milk through fruitful valleys flow, And luscious honey dropping from the tree,
Load the full flowers that in their shadows grow:
“By thee my power am purposed to try,
That from rough bondage shalt the Hebrews bring, Bearing that great and fearful embassy
To that monarchaic and imperious king.
“ And on this mountain, standing in thy sight,
When thou returnest from that conquered land, Thou hallowed altars unto me shalt light,
This for a token certainly shall stand."
VIRTUE NOT HEREDITARY.
That height and godlike purity of mind
Resteth not still where titles most adorn ; With any, not peculiarly confined
To names, and to be limited doth scorn:
Richest and poorest, both alike are born;
Pity it is, that to one virtuous man
That mark him lent, to gentry to advance, Which, first by noble industry he wan,
His baser issue after should enhance ; And the rude slave not any good that can
Such should thrust down by what is his by chance. As had not he been first that him did raise, Ne’er had his great heir wrought his grandsire's praise.
You that but boast your ancestor's proud style,
your vain greatness grew; When you yourselves are ignorant and vile,
Nor glorious thing dare actually pursue,
Doubting their worth should else discover you,
Virtue, but poor, God in this earth doth place, 'Gainst this rude world to stand
his right; To suffer sad affliction and disgrace,
Not ceasing to pursue her with despite : Yet when of all she is accounted base,
And seeming in most miserable plight, Out of her power new life to her doth take: Least then dismayed, when all do her forsake.
That is the man of an undaunted spirit,
For her dear sake that offereth him to die ;
Looketh upon it with a pleased eye;
Daring the proudest menaces defy;
SIR HENRY WOTTON.
This elegant writer was born in Kent, in 1568. He was appointed to several public offices in the reign of Elizabeth ; but after a while he fell into disgrace, and then he lived abroad, till the accession of James I., when he was appointed ambassador to Venice. He was the author of a variety of works, chiefly upon political subjects; of some of a religious character, and of a few poetical pieces of great beauty. He died in 1640.
FAREWELL TO THE VANITIES OF THE WORLD.
FAREWELL, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles ;
Fame, honor, beauty, state, train, blood, and birth,
I would be great, but that the sun doth still
I have wished all ; but now I wish for neither-
Would the world now adopt me for her heir,
“ the Fair,"
And hold one minute of this holy leisure,
Welcome, pure thoughts, welcome, ye silent
groves, These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves: Now the winged people of the sky shall sing My cheerful anthems to the gladsome Spring ; A prayer-book now shall be my looking-glass, In which I will adore sweet Virtue's face.
Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace-cares,
And if contentment be a stranger then,
How happy is he born and taught
That serveth not another's will,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the worldly care
Of public fame or private breath.
Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
Nor rules of state, but rules of good.
Who hath his life from rumors freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat, Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make oppressors great.
Who God doth late and early pray
More of his grace than gifts to lend,
With a religious book or friend.
This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
And having nothing, yet hath all.