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The calm that cools thine eye does shipwreck mine, for O, Unmoved to see one wretched, is to make him so.
“VERILY I SAY UNTO YOU, YE SHALL WEEP AND LAMENT."-John xvi., 20.
Welcome, my grief, my joy; how dear's
To me my legacy of tears!
I'll weep, and weep, and will therefore
Thou, Thou (dear Lord) even Thou alone,
"YE BUILD THE SEPULCHRES OF THE
Thou trimm'st a Prophet's tomb, and dost bequeath
UPON OUR LORD'S LAST COMFORTABLE
All Hybla's honey, all that sweetness can
Flows in Thy song (O fair, O dying Swan !)
It is too sweet to be a long-lived one.
"I AM THE DOOR."
And now thou'rt set wide ope, the spear's sad art,
He to himself (I fear the worst)
And his own hope
Hath shut these doors of Heaven, that durst
"BUT MEN LOVED DARKNESS RATHER THAN LIGHT."-John iii., 19.
The world's Light shines; shine as it will,
I doubt though, when the world's in hell,
It will not love its darkness half so well.
TO PONTIUS WASHING HIS HANDS.
Must have its fountain in thine eyes.
"COME, SEE THE PLACE WHERE THE LORD LAY."-Matt. xxviii., 6.
Show me Himself, Himself (bright Sir), O show Which way my poor tears to Himself may go ; Were it enough to show the place, and say, Look, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay, Then could I shew these arms of mine, and say, Look, Mary, here, see where thy Lord once lay. THE SICK IMPLORE ST. PETER'S SHADOW. -Acts v.
Under thy shadow may I lurk awhile,
Death's busy search I'll easily beguile :
Thy shadow, Peter, must show me the Sun,
ON ST. PETER CUTTING OFF MALCHUS' EAR.
Well, Peter, dost thou wield thy active sword;
Well for thyself (I mean), not for thy Lord.
To strike at ears, is to take heed there be
No witness, Peter, of thy perjury.
ON THE BAPTIZED ETHIOPIAN.
Let it no longer be a forlorn-hope
To wash an Ethiop;
He's wash'd; his gloomy skin a peaceful shade
And now, I doubt not, the Eternal Dove
A black-faced house will love.
"I AM READY NOT ONLY TO BE BOUND, BUT TO DIE.”—Acts xxi., 13.
Come death, come bonds, nor do you shrink, my ears
At those hard words man's cowardice calls fears.
Save those of fear, no other bands fear I ;
TO THE INFANT MARTYRS.
Go, smiling souls, your new-built cages break,
Nor let the milky fonts, that bathe your thirst,
The place that calls you hence is, at the worst,
UPON THE INFANT MARTYRS.
To see both blended in one flood,
SAMSON TO HIS DELILAH.
Could not once blinding me, cruel, suffice?
UPON THE POWDER DAY.
How fit our well-rank'd feasts do follow,
AQUAE IN VINUM VERSAE.
St. John ii., 1-10.
Unde rubor vestris, et non sua purpura lymphis? Quae rosa mirantes tam nova mutat aquas ? Numen, convivae, praesens agnoscite Numen: Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit.