This notwithstanding, thou went'st on, Not that thou hast not still above But that these country-airs thy love Did take. Wherefore I cry, and cry again; Not-thankful when it pleaseth me ; Thy praise. PEACE. SWEET Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave, Let me once know. I sought thee in a secret cave, And ask'd if Peace were there, I did; and, going, did a rainbow note: This is the lace of Peace's coat: I will search out the matter. But while I look'd the clouds immediately Then went I to a garden, and did spy The crown imperial. "Sure," said I, At length I met a rev'rend good old man : I did demand, he thus began: At Salem dwelt, who lived with good increase "He sweetly liv'd; yet sweetness did not save His life from foes. But after death out of his grave There sprang twelve stalks of wheat: Which many wond'ring at, got some of those To plant and set. "It prosper'd strangely, and did soon disperse Through all the earth: For they that taste it do rehearse, A secret virtue, bringing peace and mirth "Take of this grain, which in my garden grows, And grows for you: Make bread of it; and that repose With so much earnestness you do pursue, MAN'S MEDLEY. HARK how the birds do sing, All creatures have their joy, and man hath his. Man's joy and pleasure Rather hereafter, than in present, is. To this life things of sense Make their pretence: In the other angels have a right by birth : And makes them one, With one hand touching heav'n, with the other earth. In soul he mounts and flies, In flesh he dies: He wears a stuff, whose thread is coarse and round, But trimm'd with curious lace, And should take place After the trimming, not the stuff and ground. Not, that he may not here Taste of the cheer: But as birds drink, and straight lift up their heads; He may So must he sip, and think attain to, after he is dead. But as his joys are double, So is his trouble. He hath two winters, other things but one: And he, of all things, fears two deaths, alone. Yet ev❜n the greatest griefs May be reliefs, Could he but take them right, and in their ways. Happy is he, whose heart Hath found the art To turn his double pains to double praise. THE METHOD. POOR heart, lament: For since thy God refuseth still, Thy Father could Quickly effect what thou dost move; Go search this thing: Tumble thy breast, and turn thy book: If thou hadst lost a glove or ring, What do I see Written above there? "Yesterday I did behave me carelessly, When I did pray." And should God's ear To such indifferents chained be, But stay! what's there? "Late, when I would have something done, I had a motion to forbear; Yet I went on." And should God's ear, Which needs not man, be tied to those His utter foes? Then once more pray; Down with thy knees, up with thy voice: Seek pardon first, and God will say, "Glad heart, rejoice!" |