Began to spread and to expatiate there :
But with a richer drug, then scalding water,
I bath'd it often, ev'n with holy bloud,

Which at a board, while many drank bare wine,
A friend did steal into my cup for good,
Ev'n taken inwardly, and most divine

To supple hardnesses. But at the length
Out of the caldron getting, soon I fled
Unto my house, where to repair the strength
Which I had lost, I hasted to my bed:

But when I thought to sleep out all these faults,
(I sigh to speak)

I found that some had stuff'd the bed with thoughts,
I would say thorns. Deare, could my heart not break,
When with my pleasures ev'n my rest was gone?
Full well I understood, who had been there :
For I had giv'n the key to none, but one:
It must be he. Your heart was dull, I fear.
Indeed a slack and sleepie state of minde
Did oft possesse me, so that when I pray'd,
Though my lips went, my heart did stay behinde.
But all my scores were by another paid,

Who took the debt upon him. Truly, Friend,

For ought I heare, your Master

More favour then you wot of.

shows to you

Mark the end.
The Font did onely, what was old, renew:
The Caldron suppled, what was grown too hard:
The Thorns did quicken, what was grown too dull :
All did but strive to mend, what you had marr'd.
Wherefore be cheer'd, and praise him to the full
Each day, each houre, each moment of the week,
Who fain would have you be, new, tender, quick.

102. MAN'S MEDLEY.

HEARK, how the birds do sing,
And woods do ring.

All creatures have their joy, and man hath his.
Yet if we rightly measure,

Man's joy and pleasure

Rather hereafter, then in present, is.

To this life things of sense

Make their pretence :

In th' other Angels have a right by birth:

Man ties them both alone,

And makes them one,

With th' one hand touching heav'n, with th' other

In soul he mounts and flies,

In flesh he dies.

[earth.

He wears a stuffe whose thread is course and round,
But trimm'd with curious lace,

And should take place

After the trimming, not the stuffe and ground.

Not, that he may not here

Taste of the cheer:

But as birds drink, and straight lift up their head;
So must he sip and think

1

1

He hath two winters, other things but one :
Both frosts and thoughts do nip:
And bite his lip;

And he of all things fears two deaths alone.

Yet ev'n the greatest griefs
May be reliefs,

Could he but take them right, and in their wayes.
Happie is he, whose heart

Hath found the art

To turn his double pains to double praise.

103. THE STORM.

IF as the windes and waters here below
Do fie and flow,

My sighs and tears as busy were above;
Sure they would move

And much affect thee, as tempestuous times

Amaze poore mortals, and object their crimes.

Starres have their storms, ev'n in a high degree,
As well as we.

A throbbing conscience spurred by remorse

Hath a strange force:

It quits the earth, and mounting more and more,
Dares to assault thee, and besiege thy doore.

There it stands knocking, to thy musick's wrong,
And drowns the song.

Glorie and honour are set by till it

An answer get.

Poets have wrong'd poore storms: such dayes are best ; They purge the aire without, within the breast.

I BLESSE thee, Lord, because I GROW
Among thy trees, which in a ROW
To thee both fruit and order

o W.

What open force, or hidden CHARM
Can blast my fruit, or bring me HARM,
While the inclosure is thine

ARM?

Inclose me still for fear I START.
Be to me rather sharp and TART,
Than let me want thy hand and ART.

When thou dost greater judgements SPARE,
And with thy knife but prune and PARE,
Ev'n fruitfull trees more fruitfull ARE.

Such sharpnes shows the sweetest FREND:
Such cuttings rather heal than REND:
And such beginnings touch their

END.

105. THE METHOD.

POORE heart, lament,

For since thy God refuseth still,

There is some rub, some discontent,
Which cools his will.

Thy Father could

Quickly effect, what thou dost move ;
For he is Power: and sure he would;
For he is Love.

Go search this thing.

Tumble thy breast and turn thy book:
If thou hadst lost a glove or ring,

Wouldst thou not look?

What do I see

Written above there? Yesterday
I did behave me carelessly,
When I did pray.

And should God's eare

To such indifferents chained be,
Who do not their own motions heare?
Is God lesse free?

But stay! what's there?
Late when I would have something done,

I had a motion to forbear,

Yet I went on.

And should God's care,

Which needs not man, be ty'd to those
Who heare not him, but quickly heare
His utter foes?

Then once more pray:

Down with thy knees, up with thy voice:
Seek pardon first, and God will say,

Glad heart rejoyce.

As men, for fear the starres should sleep and nod, And trip at night, have spheres supplied;