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Two in the day; then from the damps and ache
Of night shut up thy leaves; be chaste; God pries
Through thickest nights; though then the sun be
far,

Do thou the works of day, and rise a star.

24 Briefly, do as thou wouldst be done unto,
Love God, and love thy neighbour; watch and pray.
These are the words and works of life; this do,
And live; who doth not thus, hath lost heaven's way.
Oh, lose it not! look up, wilt change those lights
For chains of darkness and eternal nights?

REPENTANCE.

Lord, since thou didst in this vile clay
That sacred ray,

Thy Spirit, plant, quickening the whole
With that one grain's infused wealth,
My forward flesh crept on, and subtly stole
Both growth and power; checking the health
And heat of thine. That little gate

And narrow way, by which to thee

The passage is, he termed a grate
And entrance to captivity;

Thy laws but nets, where some small birds,
And those but seldom too, were caught;

Thy promises but empty words,

Which none but children heard or taught.
This I believed: and though a friend.

Came oft from far, and whispered, No;

Yet, that not sorting to my end,

I wholly listened to my foe.

Wherefore, pierced through with grief, my sad,
Seduced soul sighs up to thee;

To thee, who with true light art clad,

And seest all things just as they be.
Look from thy throne upon this roll
Of heavy sins, my high transgressions,
Which I confess with all my soul;
My God, accept of my confession!
It was last day,

Touched with the guilt of my own way,
I sat alone, and taking up,

The bitter cup,

Through all thy fair and various store,
Sought out what might outvie my score.
The blades of grass thy creatures feeding;
The trees, their leaves; the flowers, their seeding;
The dust, of which I am a part;

The stones, much softer than my heart;
The drops of rain, the sighs of wind,
The stars, to which I am stark blind;
The dew thy herbs drink up by night,
The beams they warm them at i' the light;
All that have signature or life

I summoned to decide this strife;
And lest I should lack for arrears,
A spring ran by, I told her tears;
But when these came unto the scale,
My sins alone outweighed them all.

O my dear God! my life, my love!
Most blessed Lamb! and mildest Dove!
Forgive your penitent offender,

And no more his sins remember;
Scatter these shades of death, and give
Light to my soul, that it may live;
Cut me not off for my transgressions,
Wilful rebellions, and suppressions;

But give them in those streams a part
Whose spring is in my Saviour's heart.
Lord, I confess the heinous score,
And pray I may do so no more;
Though then all sinners I exceed,
Oh, think on this, thy Son did bleed!
Oh, call to mind his wounds, his woes,
His agony, and bloody throes;

Then look on all that thou hast made,
And mark how they do fail and fade;
The heavens themselves, though fair and bright,
Are dark and unclean in thy sight;
How then, with thee, can man be holy,
Who dost thine angels charge with folly?
Oh, what am I, that I should breed
Figs on a thorn, flowers on a weed?
I am the gourd of sin and sorrow,
Growing o'er night, and gone to-morrow.
In all this round of life and death
Nothing's more vile than is my breath;
Profaneness on my tongue doth rest,
Defects and darkness in my breast;
Pollutions all my body wed,
And even my soul to thee is dead;
Only in him, on whom I feast,
Both soul and body are well dressed;

His pure perfection quits all score,
And fills the boxes of his poor;
He is the centre of long life and light;
I am but finite, he is infinite.

Oh, let thy justice then in him confine,

And through his merits make thy mercy mine!

THE DAWNING.

Ah! what time wilt thou come? when shall that cry, 'The Bridegroom's coming!' fill the sky?

Shall it in the evening run

When our words and works are done?
Or will thy all-surprising light
Break at midnight,

When either sleep or some dark pleasure
Possesseth mad man without measure?
Or shall these early, fragrant hours
Unlock thy bowers,

And with their blush of light descry
Thy locks crowned with eternity?
Indeed, it is the only time

That with thy glory doth best chime;
All now are stirring, every field
Full hymns doth yield;

The whole creation shakes off night,
And for thy shadow looks the light;
Stars now vanish without number,
Sleepy planets set and slumber,
The pursy clouds disband and scatter,
All expect some sudden matter;
Not one beam triumphs, but from far
That morning-star.

Oh, at what time soever thou,
Unknown to us, the heavens wilt bow,
And, with thy angels in the van,
Descend to judge poor careless man,
Grant I may not like puddle lie
In a corrupt security,

Where, if a traveller water crave,

He finds it dead, and in a grave.

But as this restless, vocal spring
All day and night doth run and sing,
And though here born, yet is acquainted
Elsewhere, and flowing keeps untainted;
So let me all my busy age

In thy free services engage;

And though, while here, of force I must
Have commerce sometimes with poor dust,
And in my flesh, though vile and low,
As this doth in her channel flow,
Yet let my course, my aim, my love,
And chief acquaintance be above;
So when that day and hour shall come
In which thyself will be the Sun,
Thou'lt find me dressed and on my way,
Watching the break of thy great day.

THE TEMPEST.

1 How is man parcelled out! how every hour
Shows him himself, or something he should see!
This late, long heat may his instruction be;
And tempests have more in them than a shower.

When nature on her bosom saw

Her infants die,

And all her flowers withered to straw,
Her breasts grown dry;

She made the earth, their nurse and tomb,
Sigh to the sky,

Till to those sighs, fetched from her womb,
Rain did reply;

So in the midst of all her fears

And faint requests,

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