2.

There's not a wind can ftir,

Or beam paffe by,

But ftrait I think, though far,
Thy hand is nigh.
Come, come!

Strike these lips dumb:
This restless breath,

That foiles thy name,
Will ne'r be tame

Untill in death.

3.

Perhaps fome think a tombe
No house of store,

But a dark, feal'd up wombe,

Which ne'r breeds more.

Come, come!

Such thoughts benum.

But I would be

With him I weep
A-bed, and fleep

To wake in thee.

¶ Midnight.

Hen to my Eyes,

Whilft deep fleep others catches,

Thine host of spyes,

The starres, shine in their watches,

I doe furvey

Each bufie Ray,

And how they work and wind,

And with each beame

My foul doth ftream

With the like ardour shin'd.

What Emanations,

Quick vibrations,

And bright stirs are there!

What thin Ejections,
Cold Affections,

And flow motions here!

2.

Thy heav'ns, fome say,

Are a firie-liquid light,

Which mingling aye

Streames and flames thus to the fight.
Come then, my God!

Shine on this bloud

And water in one beame;

And thou fhalt fee

Kindled by thee

Both liquors burne and streame.
O what bright quickness,
Active brightness,

And celeftiall flowes,

Will follow after

On that water,

Which thy Spirit blowes!

Math. Cap. 3. ver. xi.

I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance, but be that commeth after me, is mightier than I; whofe fhooes I am not worthy to beare; he shall baptize you with the holy Ghost, and with fire.

¶ Content.

Eace,

peace

! I know 'twas brave;

But this coarse fleece,

I fhelter in, is flave

To no fuch

peece.

When I am gone,

I shall no wardrobes leave

To friend or fonne,

But what their own homes weave.

2.

Such, though not proud nor full,
May make them weep,

And mourn to fee the wooll

Outlast the sheep;

Poore, Pious weare!

Hadft thou bin rich, or fine,
Perhaps that teare

Had mourn'd thy loffe, not mine.

3.

Why then these curl'd, puffed points, Or a laced story?

Death fets all out of Joint,

And scornes their glory.
Some Love a Rofe

In hand, fome in the skin;

But, croffe to those,

I would have mine within.

Oy of my life while left me here!

And still my Love!

How in thy abfence thou doft steere
Me from above!

A life well lead

This truth commends,
With quick or dead
It never ends.

2.

Stars are of mighty use: The night
Is dark, and long;

The Rode foul; and where one goes right,
Six may go wrong.

One twinkling ray,
Shot o'er fome cloud,

May clear much way,

And guide a croud.

3.

Gods Saints are fhining lights: who stays
Here long must passe

O're dark hills, swift streames, and steep ways
As fmooth as glaffe;

But these all night,

Like Candles, fhed

Their beams, and light
Us into Bed.

4.

They are indeed our Pillar-fires,

Seen as we go;

They are that Citie's fhining spires
We travell to.

A fwordlike gleame
Kept man from fin

First Out; This beame

Will guide him In.

The Storm.

See the use: and know my bloud
Is not a Sea,

But a fhallow, bounded floud,
Though red as he;

Yet have I flows as strong as his,

And boyling ftremes that rave

With the fame curling force and hiffe,
As doth the mountained wave.

2.

But when his waters billow thus,

Dark ftorms and wind

Incite them to that fierce difcuffe,
Elfe not Inclin'd.

Thus the Enlarg'd, inraged air

Uncalmes these to a floud;

But ftill the weather that's most fair

Breeds tempefts in my bloud.

3.

Lord, round me then with weeping Clouds, And let my mind

In quick blasts figh beneath those shrouds, A fpirit-wind;