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To pontius (Pilate] washing his Blood
Is murder no sin ? or a sin so cheap,
That thou need'st heap A rape upon 't? Till thy adult'rous touch
Taught her these sullied cheeks, this blubber'd face, She was a nymph, the meadows knew none such,
Of honest parentage, of unstain'd race;
See how she weeps, and weeps, that she appears
Nothing but tears;
Hark how at every touch she does complain her!
And with sad murmurs chides the hands that stain her! Leave, leave, for shame, or else, good judge, decree What water shall wash this, when this hath washed thee.
On tbe Still Surviving Darks of our
Whatever story of their cruelty,
Are in another sense
O these wakeful wounds of Thine !
Are they mouths? or are they eyes ?
Each bleeding part some one supplies.
Lo! a mouth, whose full-bloom'd lips
At too dear a rate are roses.
O thou, that on this foot hast laid
Many a kiss, and many a tear;
Whatsoe'er thy charges were.
This foot hath got a mouth and lips,
To pay the sweet sum of thy kisses;
Instead of tears, such gems as this is.
The difference only this appears,
(Nor can the change offend) The debt is paid in ruby tears,
Which thou in pearls didst lend.
upon Easter Day. Rise heir of fresh Eternity, a
From thy virgin tomb! b
Nature's new womb, b
This is the Morn; D
When Life was born;
All creatures have;
Happy me! O happy sheep!
He expounds the weary wonder
ye terrors, sally, Muster forth into the valley, Where triumphant darkness hovers With a sable wing, that covers Brooding horror. Come, thou Death, Let the damps of thy dull breath Overshadow even the shade, And make Darkness' self afraid ; There my feet, even there, shall find Way for a resolved mind. Still my Shepherd, still my God Thou art with me; still Thy rod, And Thy staff, whose influence Gives direction, gives defence. At the whisper of Thy word Crown'd abundance spreads my board : While I feast, my foes do feed Their rank malice, not their need; So that with the self-same bread They are starved, and I am fed.