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Why art thou troubled, Herod? what vain fear
Thy blood-revolving breast to rage doth move? Heaven's King, Who doffs Himself weak flesh to wear,
Comes not to rule in wrath, but serve in love:
Poor jealousy! why should He wish to prey
Make to thy reason, man, and mock thy doubts;
See how He's furnished for so feared a war.
What His steeds? alas! Poor beasts! a slow ox and a simple ass.
IL FINE DEL PRIMO LIBRO-'THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK.'
Inder to proper Names in “Sospetto
What bright soft thing is this,
Sweet Mary, thy fair eyes' expense?
A watery diamond; from whence
O, 'tis not a tear,
'Tis a star about to drop
From thine eye, its sphere
The Sun will stoop and take it up.
Proud will his sister be to wear
This thine eye's jewel in her ear.
O, 'tis a tear,
Too true a tear; for no sad eyne,
Rain so true a tear as thine;
Each drop, leaving a place so dear,
Such a pearl as this is,
(Slipp'd from Aurora's dewy breast) The rose-bud's sweet lip kisses;
And such the rose itself, that's vex'd With ungentle flames, does shed, Sweating in a too warm bed.
Such the maiden gem
By the purpling vine put on,
And blushes on the bridegroom Sun:
Fair drop, why quak'st thou so?
'Cause thou straight must lay thy head In the dust? Ono;
The dust shall never be thy bed: A pillow for thee will I bring, Stuffed with down of angel's wing.
Thus carried up on high,
(For to Heaven thou must go) Sweetly shalt thou lie,
And in soft slumbers bathe thy woe;
Till the singing orbs awake thee,
And one of their bright chorus make thee.
There thyself shalt be
An eye, but not a weeping one;
Yet I doubt of thee,
Whether th' had'st rather there have shone
Our Blessed] Lord in his Circumcision to his Father.
To Thee these first-fruits of My growing death,
And till My riper woes to age are come,
"Neither Durst any Man from that Day ask him any More Questions."— S. Matt. xxii., 46.
'Midst all the dark and knotty snares,
Of Thy renown, and their own shame :
As if they only meant to breathe,
To be the life of their own death.
'Twas time to hold their peace when they
Had ne'er another word to say:
Yet is their silence, unto Thee,
While they speak nothing, they speak all