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2 Kinge. From him, whom by a more illustrious ly, The blindnes of the World did call the eye. 45 3 Kinge. To Him, Who by these mortall clouds hast

made

Thyself our sun, though Thine Own shade. 1 Kinge. Farewell, the World's false light!

2 Kinge.

3 Kinge.

Chorus.

Farewell, the white

Ægypt; a long farewell to thee

Bright idol, black idolatry:

The dire face of inferior darknes, kis't
And courted in the pompus mask of a
more specious mist.

Farewell, farewell

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The proud and misplac't gates of Hell, 55 Pertch't in the Morning's way perched. And double-guilded as the doores of Day: The deep hypocrisy of Death and Night More desperately dark, because more bright. Welcome, the World's sure way! Heavn's wholsom ray.

Wellcome to vs; and we

(Sweet) to our selues, in Thee.

1 Kinge. The deathles Heir of all Thy Father's day!

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Embosom'd in a much more rosy Morn:
The blushes of Thy all-vnblemisht mother.

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VOL. I.

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1 Kinge. We, who strangely went astray,

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2 King. A darknes made of too much day.

3 Kinge.

Becken'd from farr

By Thy fair starr,

Lo, at last hane found our way.

Chorus. To Thee, Thou Day of Night! Thou East

of West!

Lo, we at last haue found the way

To Thee, the World's great vniuersal East,
The generall and indifferent Day.

1 Kinge. All-circling point! all-centring sphear!
The World's one, round, æternall year :

2 Kinge. Whose full and all-vnwrinkled face

Nor sinks nor swells with time or place; 3 Kinge. But euery where and enery while Is one consistent, solid smile:

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2 Kinge.

Twixt Spring and frost;

3 Kinge. Nor by alternate shredds of light,
Sordidly shifting hands with shades and Night.
O little all! in Thy embrace

Chorits.

The World lyes warm, and likes his place;

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Nor does his full globe fail to be

Kist on both his cheeks by Thee.

Time is too narrow for Thy year,

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Nor makes the whole World Thy half-sphear.

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2 Kinge. From him, whom by a more illustrious ly, The blindnes of the World did call the eye. 45 3 Kinge. To Him, Who by these mortall clouds hast

made

Thyself our sun, though Thine Own shade.

1 Kinge. Farewell, the World's false light!

2 Kinge.

3 Kinge.

Chorus.

Farewell, the white

Ægypt; a long farewell to thee

Bright idol, black idolatry:

The dire face of inferior darknes, kis't
And courted in the pompus mask of a
more specious mist.

Farewell, farewell

50

The proud and misplac't gates of Hell, 55 Pertch't in the Morning's way perched. And double-guilded as the doores of Day: The deep hypocrisy of Death and Night More desperately dark, because more bright. Welcome, the World's sure way! Heavn's wholsom ray.

Wellcome to vs; and we

(Sweet!) to our selues, in Thee.

1 Kinge. The deathles Heir of all Thy Father's day!

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Embosom'd in a much more rosy Morn:
The blushes of Thy all-vnblemisht mother.

60

65

VOL. I.

M

3 Kinge.

Chorus.

No more that other

Aurora shall sett ope

Her ruby casements, or hereafter hope
From mortall eyes

To meet religious welcomes at her rise.
We (pretious ones!) in you haue won
A gentler Morn, a iuster sun.

1 King. His superficiall beames sun-burn't our

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3 Kinge. The Night and Winter still of Death and Sin. Chorus. Thy softer yet more certaine darts

Spare our eyes, but peirce our harts:

1 Kinge. Therfore with his proud Persian spoiles So 2 Kinge. We court Thy more concerning smiles.

3 King.

Therfore with his disgrace

We guild the humble cheek of this chast

place;

Chorus. And at Thy feet powr forth his face. 1 Kinge. The doating Nations now no more

Shall any day but Thine adore.

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2 Kinge. Nor-much lesse-shall they leaue these eyes

For cheap Egyptian deityes.

3 Kinge. In whatsoe're more sacred shape

Of ram, he-goat, or reuerend ape;

Those beauteous rauishers opprest so sore

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By wanton heyfer shall be worn

2 Kinge. A garland, or a guilded horn:

The altar-stall'd ox, fatt Osyris now

With his fair sister cow

3 Kinge. Shall kick the clouds no more; but lean

and tame,

Chorus. See His horn'd face, and dy for shame :
And Mithra now shall be no name.

1 Kinge. No longer shall the immodest lust
Of adulterous godles dust

2 Kinge. Fly in the face of Heau'n; as if it were poor World's fault that He is fair.

The

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3 Kinge. Nor with peruerse loues and religious rapes Reuenge Thy bountyes in their beauteous

shapes;

And punish best things worst; because

they stood

Guilty of being much for them too good.

1 Kinge. Proud sons of Death! that durst compell 10 Heau'n it self to find them Hell:

2 Kinge. And by strange witt of madnes wrest

From this World's East the other's West.

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3 Kinge. All-idolizing wormes! that thus could crowd And vrge their sun into Thy cloud; Forcing His sometimes eclips'd face to be A long deliquium to the light of Thee.

Chorus. Alas! with how much heauyer shade

The shamefac't lamp hung down his head

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