On the new forcers of Conscience under the Long On the Lord Gen. Fairfax at the siege of To the Lord Generall Cromwell May 1652: p. 100 To S' Henry Vane the younger: p. 101 To Mr. Cyriack Skinner upon his Blindness: p. 101 Psalms LXXX to LXXXVIII: p. 112 On the Morning of Christs Nativity Compos'd 1629. This is the Month, and this the happy morn That be our deadly forfeit should release, ii That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable, He laid aside; and bere with us to be, Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day, And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay. iii Say, Heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn Strein, Now while the Heav'n by the Suns team untrod, iv See bow from far upon the Eastern rode The Hymn i It was the Winter wilde, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Had doff't ber gawdy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the Sun ber lusty Paramour. ii Only with speeches fair She woo's the gentle Air To bide ber guilty front with innocent Snow, And on her naked shame, Pollute with sinfull blame, The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw, Confounded, that her Makers eyes Should look so neer upon her foul deformities. |