T Ell On the Prodigall. me bright boy, tell me my golden Lad, U Acts. 5. The sick implore St. Peters shadow. Nder thy shadow may I lurke a while, On the still surviving marks of our Saviours wounds. W C Hat ever storie of their crueltie, Or Naile, or Thorne, or Speare have writ in thee. Are in another sence, Sweet is the difference, A wound of thine Mark. 7. The dumb healed and the people enjoyned silence. Hrist bids the dumb tongue speak, it speakes, the sound If in the first he us'd his fingers touch, His hands whole strength here could not be too much. S Mat. 28. Come see the place where the Lord lay. Hew me himself, himself (bright Sir) ô show Were it enough to show the place and say Looke Mary here, see where thy Lord once lay, Then could I show these armes of mine, and say Looke Mary here, see where thy Lord once lay. To Pontius washing his hands. Thy hands are wash't, but ô the water's spilt That labour'd to have washt thy guilt; The flood, if any can, that can suffice, G Must have its fountaine in thine eyes. To the infant Martyrs. Oe smiling soules, your new built Cages breake, Nor let the milkie fonts that bath your thirst The place that calls you hence, is at the worst NOL On the miracle of Loaves. Ow Lord, or never, they'l beleeve on thee : Mark. 4. Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith? A S if the storme meant him, Or 'cause heavens face is dim, Was ever froward wind That could be so unkind? Or wave so proud? The wind had need be angry, and the water black, There is no storme but this Of your owne Cowardise That braves you out; You are the storme that mocks Your selves; you are the rocks Besides this feare of danger, ther's no danger here; Hat on TH On the B. Virgins bashfullnesse. her lap she casts her humble eye, 'Tis the sweet pride of her humilitie. The faire starre is well fixt, for where, ô where, Could she have fixt it on a fairer spheare? 'Tis heaven, 'tis heaven she sees; Heaven's God there lyes, She can see heaven, and ne're lift up her eyes: This new guest to her eyes, new lawes hath given, 'Twas once looke up, 'tis now looke downe to heaven. RichT Upon Lazarus his teares. Ich Lazarus! richer in those Gems thy Teares, Two went up into the temple to pray. Wo went to pray? ô rather say One went to brag, th' other to pray: H Upon the asse that bore our Saviour. Ath only anger an Omnipotence in Eloquence? Within the lips of love and joy doth dwell Why else had Balaams asse a tongue to chide And thou (heaven burthen'd beast) hast ne're a word To praise thy Lord? That he should find a tongue and vocall thunder Was a great wonder, But ô me thinkes 'tis a farre greater one That thou find'st none. Mat. 8. I am not worthy that thou should'st come under my roofe. was THYT God making hast into thy roofe, Thy humble faith, and feare, keepes him aloofe: Hee'l be thy guest, because he may not be, Hee'l come-into thy house? no, into thee. A I am the Doore. Nd now th'art set wide ope, the spear's sad art He to himselfe (I feare the worst) And his owne hope Hath shut these Doores of heaven, that durst TH Thus set them ope. Mat. 10. The blind cured by the word of our Saviour. Hou speak'st the word (Thy word's a Law) To speake, and make the blind man see, Mat. 27. And he answered them nothing. unto thee, Mighty Nothing! God spake once, when he all things made, THO To our Lord, upon the water made Wine. Hou water turn'st to wine (faire friend of life) Distills from thence the tears of wrath and strife, |