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Nailed to the ground, and fastened there,
This was the thought of my despair.

And when my very heart seemed dried,
And parched as summer duft,
Such ftill I deemed it must abide,

No hope had I, no trust

That any power again could blefs
With fountains that waste wilderness.

But if both hope and fear were vain,
And came alike to naught,
Two leffons we from this may gain,
If ought can teach us aught;-
One leffon rather, to divide

Between our fearfulness and pride.



ET them that would build caftles in the air,
Vault thither, without ftep or stair,

Instead of feet to climb, take wings to fly,

And think their turrets top the sky.

But let me lay all my foundations deep,

And learn before I run, to creep,

Who digs through rocks to lay his ground-works low, May in good time build high, and sure, though flow.

Christopher Harvey.



RAYER-the church's banquet; angel's age;


God's breath in man returning to his birth;

The soul in paraphrase; heart in pilgrimage;

The Chriftian plummet, sounding heaven and earth;

Engine against th' Almighty; finner's tower;
Reversed thunder; Chrift's-fide-piercing spear;
The fix-days world transpofing in an hour;

A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;

Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss;
Exalted manna; gladness of the best;
Heaven in ordinary; man well dreft;

The milky-way; the bird of paradise ;

Church bells beyond the stars heard; the soul's blood;

The land of spices; something understood.

George Herbert.

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JOYES! infinite sweetness! with what flowres
And shoots of glory my soul breakes and buds!
All the long houres

Of night and rest,
Through the still shrouds

Of fleep and clouds,

This dew fell on my breast;
O how it blouds,

And spirits all my earth! heark! in what rings
And hymming circulations the quick world
Awakes and fings!

The rifing winds

And falling springs,

Birds, beafts, all things

Adore Him in their kinds.
Thus all is hurl'd

In sacred hymnes and order, the great chime
And symphony of nature. Prayer is

The world in tune,

A spirit-voyce,

And vocall joyes,

Whose eccho is heaven's bliffe.

O let me climbe

When I lye down! The pious soul by night
Is like a clouded starre, whose beames, though said
To fhed their light

Under some cloud,

Yet are above,

And fhine and move

Beyond that mistie shrowd.
So in my bed,

That curtain'd grave, though fleep, like afhes, hide
My lamp and life, both fhall in Thee abide.

Henry Vaughan.


GARDEN so well watered before morn Is hotly up, that not the swart sun's blaze, Down-beating with unmitigated rays,

Nor arid winds from scorching places borne,
Shall quite prevail to make it bare and fhorn
Of its green beauty-fhall not quite prevail
That all its morning freshness shall exhale,
Till evening and the evening dews return
A bleffing such as this our hearts might reap,
The freshness of the garden they might share,
Through the long day a heavenly freshness keep,
If, knowing how the day and the day's glare
Muft beat upon them, we would largely fteep,
And water them betimes with dews of prayer.



UR Saviour, (pattern of true holiness,)

O teaching,

When he was baptized in the wilderness,

In working miracles and in his preaching, Upon the mount, in garden groves of death, At his laft supper, at his parting breath.

Nothing more grateful in the highest eyes,
Nothing more firm in danger to protect us,
Nothing more forcible to pierce the skies,

And not depart till mercy do respect us:
And, as the soul life to the body gives,
So prayer revives the soul, by prayer it lives.

Robert Southwell.

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NOME to the morning prayer,
Come, let us kneel and pray; -

Prayer is the Christian pilgrim's staff,
To walk with God all day.

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