All is God's; and yet, 'tis true, But now they have seen and hated. EEN? and yet hated Thee? they did not see, They saw Thee not, that saw and hated Thee: No, no, they saw Thee not, O Life! O Love! Who saw aught in Thee that their hate could move? Upon the Crown of Thorns, taken from our Blessed. Lord's Head, all bloody. NOW'ST thou this, soldier? 'tis a much changed plant, which yet Thyself didst set. "Tis changed indeed; did Autumn e'er such beauties bring To shame his Spring?* O! who so hard an husbandman did ever find A soil so kind? Is not the soil a kind one which returns Roses for thorns? She began to wash His Feet with Tears and wipe them with the Hairs of her Head. ER eyes' flood licks His feet's fair stain, This flame thus quench'd hath brighter beams, This flood thus stainèd fairer streams. • These two lines are not in the version of the Paris edition of 1652. On St. Peter cutting off Malchus's Ear. No witness, Peter, of thy perjury. JOHN III. But Men loved Darkness rather than Light. ACTS XXI. I am ready not only to be bound but to die. my ears, At those hard words man's cowardice calls fears Save those of fear, no other bands fear I; Nor other death than this; the fear to die. On St. Peter casting away his Nets at our Saviour's Call. HOU hast the art on't, Peter, and canst tell To cast thy nets on all occasions well. When Christ calls, and thy nets would have thee stay, To cast them well's to cast them quite away. Our Lord in His Circumcision to His Father. O Thee these first-fruits of my growing death, Taste this, and as Thou lik'st this lesser flood, And, till my riper woes to age are come, On the Wounds of our crucified Lord. Lo, a mouth! whose full-bloom'd lips O thou that on this foot hast laid This foot hath got a mouth and lips, Το The difference only this appears, Nor can the change offend, Which thou in pearls didst lend. On our crucified Lord, naked and bloody. O never could there garment be too good R Easter-day. ISE, Heir of fresh Eternity, From thy virgin-tomb: Rise, mighty Man of wonders, and Thy world with Thee; Thy tomb, the universal East, Nature's new womb, Thy tomb, fair Immortality's perfumèd nest. Of all the glories make noon gay This is the morn; This rock buds forth the fountain of the streams of day; In joy's white annals lives this hour, When life was born, No cloud-scowl on his radiant lids, no tempest-lower. Life, by this light's nativity, All creatures have; Death only by this day's just doom is forced to die. Throned in thy grave, Death will on this condition be content to die. On the bleeding Wounds of our crucified Lord. ESU, no more, it is full tide; From Thy head and from Thy feet, From Thy hands and from Thy side, All Thy purple rivers meet. What need Thy fair head bear a part Thy restless feet now cannot go, As they were ever wont! What though |