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Expecting fire from your eyes,
When your hands untie these strings,
To wait upon each morning sigh;
Of your well-perfumed prayer.
These white plumes of his he'll lend you,
Against Frresolution and Delay in Matters of Religion.
TO THE COUNTESS OF Denbigh.
(Version of 1653.)
What Heaven-besiegèd heart is this
Stands trembling at the Gate of Bliss:
Holds fast the door, yet dares not venture
Fairly to open and to enter?
Whose definition is A Doubt
'Twixt life and death, 'twixt In and Out.
Ah! linger not, loved soul: a slow
Not daring quite to live nor die.
So when the Year takes cold we see
Th' astonish'd Nymphs their Flood's strange fate deplore
Love, that lends haste to heaviest things,
In you alone hath lost his wings.
Look round and read the World's wide face,
Where can you fix, to find excuse
Or pattern for the pace you use?
Mark with what faith fruits answer flowers,
And know the call of Heaven's kind showers :
Each mindful plant hastes to make good
Seed-time's not all: there should be harvest too.
Alas! and has the Year no Spring for you?
Both winds and waters urge their way,
And murmur if they meet a stay.
Mark how the curled waves work and wind,
Each big with business thrusts the other,
That draw the chariot of chaste Loves,
Whate'er love's matter be, he moves
In grossest metals his own gold.
All things swear friends to Fair and Good,
Yea suitors: man alone is wooed,
Tediously wooed, and hardly won:
Only not slow to be undone ;
As if the bargain had been driven
So hardly betwixt Earth and Heaven,
Our God would thrive too fast, and be
He left His Father's Court, and came
Leaping upon the hills, to be
The humble King of you and me.
Nor can the cares of His whole crown
(When one poor sigh sends for Him down) Detain Him, but He leaves behind
The late wings of the lazy wind,
Spurns the tame laws of Time and Place,
And breaks thro' all ten heavens to our embrace. Yield to his siege, wise soul, and see
Your triumph in His victory.
Disband dull fears, give Faith the day:
To save your life, kill your Delay.
And want of courage not to yield.
Yield then, O yield, that Love may win
The Fort at last, and let Life in.
Death's prey before the prize of Love.
"TWO WENT UP INTO THE TEMPLE
Two went to pray! O, rather say
The other to the altar's God.
GIVE TO CÆSAR-AND TO GOD-
All we have is God's, and yet
Nor hath God a thinner share,
So long as Cæsar's self is God's?
ON THE BLESSED VIRGIN'S BASHFULNESS.
That on her lap she casts her humble eye,
'Tis the sweet pride of her humility.
The fair star is well fix'd, for where, O, where,
Could she have fix'd it on a fairer sphere?
'Tis Heaven, 'tis Heaven she sees, Heaven's God there lies;
She can see Heaven, and ne'er lift up her eyes.