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UPON THE DUMB DEVIL CAST OUT, AND
-Luke xi., 14.
Two devils at one blow Thou hast laid flat,
THE DUMB HEALED, AND THE PEOPLE
ENJOINED SILENCE.—Mark vii., 31-37.
" SHE BEGAN TO WASH HIS FEET WITH TEARS, AND WIPE THEM WITH THE HAIRS
OF HER HEAD.”—Luke vii., 38.
Her eyes' flood licks His feet's fair stain,
• AND A CERTAIN PRIEST COMING THAT WAY LOOKED ON HIM, AND PASSED BY."
Why dost thou wound my wounds, O thou that passest by,
The calm that cools thine eye does shipwreck mine, for O,
WEEP AND LAMENT.”—John xvi., 20.
and will therefore
Giv'st joy, even when Thou givest none.
PROPHETS.”—Matt. xxiii., 29.
Keep but the score of them that made him die. UPON OUR LORD'S LAST COMFORTABLE DISCOURSE WITH HIS DISCIPLES.
“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
Thus set them ope. “BUT MEN LOVED DARKNESS RATHER
THAN LIGHT.”—John iii., 19. The world's Light shines ; shine as it will, The world will love its darkness still. I doubt though, when the world's in hell, It will not love its darkness half so well. TO PONTIUS WASHING HIS HANDS. Thy hands are washed, but O, the water's spilt, That laboured to have washed thy guilt: The flood, if any be that can suffice, 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.
Thy shadow, Peter, must show me the Sun,
ON ST. PETER CUTTING OFF MALCHUS'
Well, Peter, dost thou wield thy active sword;
ON THE BAPTIZED ETHIOPIAN.
-Acts viii., 27-38.
To wash an Ethiop;
For his white soul is made :
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; Nor other death than this the fear to die.
TO THE INFANT MARTYRS.
Go, smiling souls, your new-built cages break,
Nor let the milky fonts, that bathe your thirst,
Be your delay; The place that calls you hence is, at the worst,
Milk all the way.
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 iï., 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.