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DESCRIPTION

OF

A RELIGIOUS HOUSE

AND CONDITION

OF LIFE

(OUT OF BARCLAY.)

No

O roofes of gold o're riotous tables shining
Whole dayes & suns devour'd with endlesse dining;
No sailes of tyrian sylk proud pavements sweeping;
Nor ivory couches costlyer slumbers keeping;
False lights of flairing gemmes; tumultuous joyes;
Halls full of flattering men & fris[k]ing boyes;
Whate're false showes of short & slippery good
Mix the mad sons of men in mutuall blood.
But WALKES & unshorn woods; and soules, just so
Unforc't & genuine; but not shady tho.
Our lodgings hard & homely as our fare.

That chast & cheap, as the few clothes we weare.
Those, course & negligent, As the naturall lockes
Of these loose groves, rough as th'unpolish't rockes.
A hasty Portion of præscribed sleep;
Obedient slumbers; that can wake & weep,
And sing, [&] sigh, & work, and sleep again;
Still rowling à round spear of still-returning pain.
Hands full of harty labours; doe much, that more they may,
And work for work, not wages; let to morrow's

New drops, wash off the sweat of this daye's sorrows.
A long & dayly-d[y]ing life, which breaths

A respiration of reviving deaths.

But neither are there those ignoble stings.
That nip the bosome of the world's best things,

348

And lash Earth-laboring souls.

No cruell guard of diligent cares, that keep
Crown'd woes awake; as things too wise for sleep.
But reverent discipline, & religious fear,
And soft obedience, find sweet biding here;
Silence, & sacred rest; peace, & pure joyes;
Kind loves keep house, ly close, make no noise,
And room enough for Monarchs, while none swells
Beyond the kingdomes of contentfull Cells.
The self-remembring SOUL sweetly recovers
Her kindred with the starrs; not basely hovers
Below; But meditates her immortal way
Home to the originall sourse of LIGHT & intellectuall Day.

AN

EPITAPH

UPON

A YOUNG MARRIED COUPLE

DEAD AND BURYED

TOGETHER.

O these, whom DEATH again did wed,
This GRAVE's their second Marriage-bed;
For though the hand of fate could force
'Twixt SOUL & BODY à Divorce,
It could not sunder man & WI[F]E,
'Cause They_Both lived but one life.
Peace, good Reader. Doe not weep.
Peace, The Lovers are asleep.
They, sweet Turtles, folded ly
In the last knott love could ty.
And though they ly as they were dead,
Their Pillow stone, their sheetes of lead,
(Pillow hard, & sheetes not warm)
Love made the bed; They'l take no harm
Let them sleep: let them sleep on.
Till this stormy night be gone,
'Till the 'Eternall morrow dawn;
Then the curtaines will be drawn
'And they wake into a light.
Whose day shall never dy in Night.

DEATH'S LECTURE

AND THE

FUNERAL
OF

A YOUNG GENTLEMAN,
Ear Reliques of a dislodg'd SOUL, whose lack
many a mourning paper put on black!
O stay a while, ere thou draw in thy head
And wind thy self up close in thy cold bed.
Stay but à little while, untill I call
A summons worthy of thy funerall.
Come then, Youth, Beauty, & blood!
All the soft powres.

Whose sylken flatteryes swell a few fond howres
Into a false æternity. Come man;
Hyperbolized NOTHING! know thy span;

Take thine own measure here down, down, & bow
Before thy self in thine idæa; thou
Huge emptynes! contract thy self; & shrinke
All thy Wild circle to a Point. O sink
Lower & lower yet; till thy leane size
Call heavn to look on thee with n[a]rrow eyes.
Lesser & lesser yet; till thou begin
To show a face, fitt to confesse thy Kin,
Thy neig[h]bourhood to NOTHing.

Proud lookes, & lofty eyliddes, here putt on
Your selves in your unfaign'd reflexion,

Here, gallant ladyes! this unpartiall glasse
(Though you be painted) showes you your true face.
These death-seal'd lippes are they dare give the ly
To the lowd Boasts of poor Mortality.
These curtain'd windows, this retired eye
Outstares the liddes of larg-look't tyranny.
This posture is the brave one this that lyes
Thus low, stands up (me thinkes,) thus & defies
The world. All-daring dust & ashes! only you
Of all interpreters read Nature True.

TEMPERANCE.

OF THE

CHEAP PHYSITIAN

UPON

THE TRANSLATION OF

LESSIU S.

with some

G Bait thy disease. And whilst they tugge,

Thou to maintain their pretious strife
Spend the dear treasures of thy life.
Goe, take physick Doat upon
Some big-nam'd composition.
Th'Oraculous DOCTOR's mystick bills;
Certain hard WORDS made into pills,
And what at last shalt' gain by these?
Only a costlyer disease.

That which makes us have no need
Of physick, that's PHYSICk indeed.
Hark hither, Reader! wilt thou see
Nature her own physitian be?
Wilt' see a man, all his own wealth,
His own musick, his own health;
A man whose sober soul can tell
How to wear her garments well.
Her garments, that upon her sitt
As garments should doe, close & fitt;
A well-cloth'd soul; that's not opp[r]est
Nor choak't with what she should be drest.
A soul sheath'd in a christall shrine;
Through which all her bright features shine;
As when a peice of wanton lawn
A thinne, aeriall veil, is drawn

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