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Can, ah! can we leave our moans ?

And our groans
Under Sion's ruins bury?
Can we in this land sing lays

In the praise
Of our God, and here be merry?

Leaden and iron wills to good, but is
Of pow'r to make ev'n sinful flesh like his.
Had one of those, whose credalous piety
Thought, that a soul one might discern and see
Go from a body, at this sepulchre been,
And issuing from the sheet this body seen,
He would have justly thought this body a soul,
If not of any man, yet of the whole.

Desunt cætera


No; dear Sion, if I yet

Do forget
Thine affliction miserable,
Let my nimble joints become

Stiff and numb,
To touch warbling harp unable.
Let my tongue lose singing skill,

Let it still
To my parched roof be glew'd;
If in either harp or voice

I rejoice,
Till thy joys shall be renew'd.
Lord, curse Edom's trait'rous kind,

Bear in mind,
In our ruins how they revell’d:
Sack, kill, burn, they cry'd out still,

Sack, burn, kill,
Down with all, let all be levell’d.




And, thou Babel, when the tide

Of thy pride,
Now a flowing, grows to turning;
Victor now, shall then be thrall,

And sball fall
To as low an ebb of mourning.

SIR, I PRESUME you rather try what you can do in me, than what I can do in verse; you know my ottermost when it was hest, and even then I did best, wben I had least truth for my subjects. In this present case there is so much trnth, as it defeats all poetry. Call therefore this paper by what name you will, and if it be not worthy of him, nor of you, nor of me, smother it, and be that the sacrifice, If you bad commanded me to have waited on his body to Scotland and preached there, I would have embraced the obligation with more alacrity; but I thank you, that you would command me that, which I was loath to do, for even that hath given a tincture of merit to the obedience of

your poor friend

and servant in Christ Jesus,

Happy he, who shall thee waste,

As thou hast
Us without all mercy wasted,
And shall make thee taste and see,

What poor we
By thy means have seen and tasted.

Happy, who thy tender barns

From the arms
Of their wailing mothers tearing,
'Gainst the walls shall dash their bones,

Ruthless stones
With their brains and blood besmearing.


WHETHER that soul, which now comes up to you,

Fill any former rank, or make a new,

Whether it take a name nam'd there before,

Or be a name itself, and order more

Than was in Heav'n till now; (for may not he

Be so, if every several angel be
Sleep, sleep, old Sun, thou canst not have re-past A kind alone) whatever order grow
As yet the wound, thou took'st on Friday last; Greater by him in Heav'n, we do not so,
Sleep then, and rest: the world may bear thy stay, One of your orders grows by his access;
A better Sun rose before thee to day;

But by his loss grow all our orders less :
Who, not content t' enlighten all that dwell

The name of father, master, friend, the name On the Earth's face, as thou enlightned Hell; Of subject and of prince, in one is lame; And made the dark fires languish in that vale, Fair mirth is damp'd, and conversation black, As at thy presence here our fires grow pale: The household widow'd, and the garter slack; Whose body having walk'd on Earth, and now The chapel wants an ear, council a tongue; Hast’ning to Heav'n, would that he might allow Story a theme, and music lacks a song. Himself upto all stations, and fill all,

Bless'd order, that hath him! the loss of him For these three days become a mineral.

Gangren'd all orders bere; all lost a limb!
He was all gold, when he lay down, but rose Never made body such haste to confess
All tincture; and doth not alone dispose

What a soul was; all former comeļiness



Fled in a minute, when the soul was gone,

So though the least of his pains, deeds, or words, And, having lost that beauty, would have none: Would busy a life, she all this day affords. So fell our monastries, in an instant grown,

'This treasure then in gross, my soul, up-lay, Not to less houses, but to heaps of stone;

And in my life retail it every day.
So sent his body, that fair form it wore,
Unto the sphere of forms, and doth (before
His soul shall fill up his sepulchral stone)
Anticipate a resurrection;

For as it is his fame, now his soul's here,

So in the form thereof his body's there.
And if, fair soul, not with first innocents
Thy station be, but with the penitents;

Let man's soul be a sphere, and then in this (And who shall dare to ask then, wben I am

Th' intelligence, that moves, devotion is; Dy'd scarlet in the blood of that pure Lamb,

And as the other spheres, by being grown Whetber that colour, which is scarlet then,

Subject to foreign motion, lose their own: Were black or white before in eyes of men ?)

And being by others hurried every day, When thou remembrest what sins thou didst find

Scarce in a year their natural form obey: Amongst those many friends now left behind,

Pleasure or business so our souls admit And seest such sinners, as they are, with thee

For their first mover, and are wbirld by it. Got thither by repentance, let it be

Hence is 't, that I am carried t’wards the west Thy wish to wish all there, to wish them clean;

This day, when my soul's form bends to the east ; Wish him a David, her a Magdalen.

There I should see a Sun by rising set,
And by that setting endless day beget.
But that Christ on his cross did rise and fall,
Sin had eternally benighted all.

Yet dare I almost be glad, I do not see
ANNUNCIATION AND PASSION. That spectacle of too much weight for me.
Tamely, frail Aesh, abstain to day; to day

Who sees God's face, that is self-life, must die;

What a death were it then to see God die? My soul eats twice, Christ hither and away;

It made his own lieutenant, Nature, shrink; She sees him man, so like God made in this,

It made his footstool crack, and the Sun wink. That of them both a circle emblem is,

Could I behold those hands, which span the poles, Whose first and last concur; this doubtful day Of feast or fast Christ came, and went away.

And tune allspheres at once, pierc'd with those holes?

Could I behold that endless height, which is She sees him nothing twice at once, who 's all;

Zenith to us and our antipodes, She sees a cedar plant itself, and fall:

Humbled below us? or that blood, which is Her maker put to making, and the head

The seat of all our souls, if not of his, Of life, at once, not yet alive, and dead;

Made dirt of dust? or that flesh, which was worn She sees at once the virgin mother stay

By God for his apparel, ragg'd and torn ? Reclus'd at home, public at Golgotha.

If on these things I durst not look, durst I
Sad and rejoic'd she's seen at once, and seen

On his distressed mother cast mine eye,
At almost fifty and at scarce fifteen :
At once a son is promis'd her, and gone;

Who was God's partner here, and furnish'd thus

Half of that sacrifice, which ransom'd us?
Gabriel gives Christ to her, he her to John:
Not fully a mother, she's in orbity,

Though these things, as I ride, be from mine eye,

They 're present yet unto my memory, At once receiver and the legacy.

For that looks towards them; and thou look'st toAll this, and all between, this day hath shown, Th' abridgment of Christ's story, which makes one

O Saviour, as thou hang'st upon the tree. (As in plain maps the furthest west is east)

I turn my back to thee, but to receive Of th' angel's ave and consummatum est.

Corrections; till thy mercies bid thee leave. How well the church, God's court of faculties,

O think me worth thine anger, punish me, Deals in sometimes and seldom joining these !

Burn off my rust, and my deformity;
As by the self-fix'd pole we never do

Restore thine image so much by thy grace,
Direct our course, but the next star thereto,
Which shows where th' other is, and which we say

That thou may'st know me, and I'll turn my face.
(Because it strays not far) doth never stray:
So God by his church, nearest to him, we know
And stand firm, if we by her motion go;
His spirit as his fiery pillar doth

Lead, and his church as cloud; to one end both.
This church, by letting those feasts join, hath shown
Death and conception in mankind are one;

Father of Heav'n, and him, by whom
Or 't was in him the same humility,

It, and us for it, and all else for us That he would be a man, and leave to be

Thou mad'st and govern'st ever, come, Or as creation he hath made, as God,

And re-create me, now grown ruinous : With the last judgment but one period;

My heart is by dejection clay, His imitating spouse would join in one

And by self-murder red. Manhood's extremes : he shall come, he is gone. From this red earth, O Father, purge away Or as though one blood drop, which thence did fall, All vicious tinctures, that new fashioned Accepted, would have serv'd, he yet shed all; 1 may rise up from death, before I'm dead.

wards me,


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THE DOCTORS. And let thy patriarch's desire

The sacred academ above (Those great grandfathers of thy church, which saw Of doctors, whose pains have unclasp'd and taught More in the cloud, than we in fire,

Both books of life to us (for love
Whom nature cleard more, than us grace and law, To know the scripture tells us, we are wrote
And now in Heav'n still pray, that we

In thy other book) pray for us there,
May use our new helps right)

That what they have misdone, Be satisfy'd, and fructify in me:

Or mis-said, we to that may not adhere; Let not my mind be blinder by more light, Their zeal may be our sin. Lord, let us run Nor faith, by reason added, lose her sight. Mean ways, and call them stars, but not the Sun.

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And whilst this universal choir,

When senses, which thy soldiers are, (That church in triumph, this in warfare here, We arm against thee, and they fight for sin ; Warm’d with one all-partaking fire

When want, sent but to tame, doth war, Of love, that none be lost, which cost thee dear) And work despair a breach to enter in; Prays ceaselessly, and thou hearken too,

When plenty, God's image and seal, (Since to be gracious

Makes us idolatrous, Our task is treble, to pray, bear, and do)

And love it, not him, whom it should reveal ;
Hear this prayer, Lord; O Lord, deliver us [thus. When we are mov'd to seem religious
From trusting in those prayers, though pour'd out Only to vent wit, Lord, deliver us.
From being anxious, or secure,

In churches when th' infirmity
Dead clouds of sadness, or light squibs of mirth; Of him, which speaks, diminishes the word ;
From thinking that great courts immure

When magistrates do misapply
All or no happiness; or that this Earth

To us, as we judge, lay or ghostly sword; Is only for our prison fram'd,

When plague, which is thine angel, reigns, Or that thou 'rt covetous

Or wars, thy champions sway; To them thou lov'st, or that they are maim'd, When heresy, thy second deluge, gains ; From reaching this world's sweets; who seek thee thus In th' hour of death, th' eve of last judgment-day, With all their might, Good Lord, deliver us. Deliver us from the sinister way. From needing danger to be good,

Hear us, O hear us, Lord : to thee
From owing thee yesterday's tears to day, A sinner is more music, when he prays,
From trusting so much to thy blood,

Than spheres or angels' praises be
That in that hope we wound our souls away; In panegyric hallelujahs;
From bribing thee with alms, t'excuse

Hear us; for till thou hear us, Lord,
Some sin more burdenous;

We know not what to say: From light affecting in religion news,

Thine ear tour sighs, tears, thoughts, gives roice From thinking us all soul, neglecting thus

and word. Our mutual duties, Lord, deliver us.

O thou, who Satan heard'st in Job's sick day,

Hear thyself now, for thou, in us, dost pray.
From tempting Satan to tempt us,
By our conni vance, or slack company;

That we may change to evenness
From measuring iil by vicious,

This intermitting aguish piety; Neglecting to choke sin's spawn, vanity;

That snatching cramps of wickedness, From indiscreet humility,

And apoplexies of fast sin may die; Which might be scandalous,

That music of thy promises, And cast reproach on christianity;

Not threats in thunder, may From being spies, or to spies pervious ;

Awaken us to our just offices; From thirst or scorn of fame, deliver us.

What in thy book thou dost or creatures say,

That we may hear, Lord, hear us, when we pray. Deliver us through thy descent Into the Virgin, whose womb was a place

That our ear's sickness we may cure, Of middle kind, and thou being sent

And rectify those labyrinths aright;
Tungracious us, stay'd'st at her full grace; That we by heark’ning not procure

And through thy poor birth, where first thou Our praise, nor others' dispraise so invite ;
Glorified'st poverty,

That we get not a slipperiness,
And yet soon after riches didst allow,

And senselessly decline,
By accepting kings' gifts in th' Epiphany, From hearing bold wits jest at kings' excess,
Deliver, and make us to both ways free.

T'admit the like of majesty divine;

That we may lock our ears, Lord, open thine. And through that bitter agony, Which still is th' agony of pious wits,

That living law, the magistrate, Disputing what distorted thee,

Which, to give us and make us physic, doth And interrupted evenness with fits;

Our vices often aggravate; And through thy free confession,

That preachers, taxing sin before her growth, Though thereby they were then

That Satan, and envenom'd men, Made blind, so that thou might'st from them have Which will, if we starve, dine, gone,

When they do most accuse us, may see then Good Lord, deliver us, and teach us when

Us to amendment hear them; thee decline; We may not, and we may blind unjust men. That we may open our ears, Lord, lock thine. Through thy submitting all, to blows

That learning, thine ambassador,
Thy face, thy robes to spoil, thy fame to scorn; From thine allegiance we never tempt;
All ways, which rage or justice knows,

That beauty, Paradise's flow'r,
And by which thou could'st show, that thou wast born; For physic made, from poison be exempt;
And through thy gallant humbleness,

That wit, born apt high good to do,
Which thou in death didst show,

By dwelling lazily
Dying before thy soul they could express, On nature's nothing, be not nothing too;
Deliver us from death, by dying so

That our affections kill us not, nor die;
To this world, ere this world dobid us go. Hear us, weak echoes, O thou ear, and cry.


Son of God, hear us; and since thou,

And till we come th' extemporal song to sing, By taking our blood, ow'st it us again,

(Learn'd the first hour, that we see the king, Gain to thyself and us allow;

Who hath translated those translators) may And let not both us and thyself be slain.

These, their sweet learned labours, all the way O Lamb of God, which took'st our sin, Be as our tuning; that, when hence we part, Which could not stick to thee,

We may fall in with them, and sing our part.
O let it not return to us again;
But patient and physician being free,
As sin is nothing, let it no where be.

Vengeance will sit above our faults; but till

She there do sit,

We see her not, nor them. Thus blind, yet still
TRANSLATION OF THE PSALMS, We lead her way; and thus, wbilst we do ill,

We suffer it.

Unhappy he, whom youth makes not beware
ETERNAL God, (for whom whoever dare

Of doing ill :

Enough we labour under age and care ;
Seek new expressions, do the circle square,
And thrust into strait corners of poor wit

In number th' errours of the last place are
Thee, who art cornerless and infinite)

The greatest still. I would but bless thy name, not name thee now;

Yet we, that should the ill, we now begin, (And thy gifts are as infinite as thou :)

As soon repent,

(seen, Fix we our praises, therefore on this one,

(Strange thing!) perceive not; our faults are not That as thy blessed Spirit fell upon These psalms' first author in a cloven tongue,

But past us; neither felt, but only in (For 't was a double power by which he sung,

The punishment. The highest matter in the noblest form ;)

But we know ourselves least; mere outward shows So thou hast cleft that spirit, to perform

Our minds so store,
That work again, and shed it here upon
Two by their bloods, and by thy spirit one;

That our souls, no more than our eyes, disclose

But form and colour. Only he, who knows
A brother and a sister, made by thee

Himself, knows more.
The organ, where thou art the harmony;
Two, that make one John Baptist's holy voice;
And who that psalm, “Now let the isles rejoice,”
Have both translated, and apply'd it too;
Both told us what, and taught us how to do.

'They show us islanders our joy, our king,
They tell us why, and teach us how to sing.
Make all this all, three choirs, Heav'n, Earth, and
spheres ;

Thou, whose diviner soul bath caus'd thee now The first, Heav'n, hath a song, but no man hears; To put thy hand unto the holy plow, The spheres bave music, but they have no tongue, Making lay-scornings of the ministry, Their harmony is rather danc'd than sung; Not an impediment, but victory; But our third choir, to which the first gives ear, What bring'st thou home with thee? how is thy mind (For angels learn by what the church does here) Affected since the vintage? Dost thou find This choir hath all. The organist is he,

New thoughts and stirrings in thee? and, as steel Who bath tun'd God and man; the organ we:

Touch'd with a load-stone, dost new motions feel? The songs are these, which Heav'n's high holy Muse Or as a ship, after much pain and care, Whisper'd to David, David to the Jews,

For iron and cloth brings home rich Indian ware, And David's successors in holy zeal,

Hast thou thus traffick'd, but with far more gain In forms of joy and art do re-reveal

Of noble goods, and with less time and pain? To us so sweetly and sincerely too,

Thou art the same materials as before, That I must not rejoice as I would do,

Only the stamp is changed, but no more. When I behold, that these psalms are become And as new crowned kings alter the face, So well attir'd abroad, so ill at bome;

But not the money's substance; so hath grace So well in chambers, in thy church so ill,

Chang'd only God's old image by creation, As I can scarce call that reform'd, until

To Christ's new stamp, at this thy coronation ; This be reform'd. Would a whole state present Or as we paint angels with wings, because A lesser gift than some one man hath sent? They bear God's message, and proclaim his laws; And shall our church unto our spouse and king Since thou must de the like, and so must move, More hoarse, more harsh than any other, sing? Art thou new-feather'd with celestial love? For that we pray, we praise thy name for this, Dear, tell me where thy purchase lies, and show, Which by this Moses and this Miriam is

What thy advantage is above, below; Already done; and as those psalms we call But if thy gainiugs do surinount expression, (Though some have other authors) David's all: Why doth the foolish world scorn that profession, So though some have, some may some psalms trans- Whose joys pass speech? Why do they think unfit We thy Sydnean psalms shall celebrate; (late, That gentry should join families with it?


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