7.

Only a little Fountain lent

Some use for Eares,

And on the dumbe fhades language spent,
The Mufick of her teares;

I drew her neere, and found
The Cifterne full

Of divers stones, fome bright and round,
Others ill-fhap'd and dull.

8.

The first (pray marke,) as quick as light
Danc'd through the floud;
But, th' last more heavy than the night
Nail'd to the Centre ftood;

I wonder❜d much, but tyr'd
At laft with thought,

My restless Eye, that ftill defir'd,

As ftrange an object brought.

9.

It was a banke of flowers, where I defcried

(Though 'twas mid-day,)

Some faft afleepe, others broad-eyed,

And taking in the Ray;

Here mufing long I heard
A rushing wind,

Which still increas'd, but whence it stirr'd,
No where I could not find.

10.

I turn'd me round, and to each fhade

Dispatch'd an Eye,

To fee if any leafe had made

Least motion or Reply;

But while I liftning fought

My mind to ease

By knowing, where 'twas, or where not,
It whisper'd; Where I pleafe..

Lord, then faid I, On me one breath,
And let me dye before my death!

Cant. cap. 5. ver. 17.

Arife, O North, and come thou South-wind, and blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow

out.

Death. A Dialogue.

Soule.

Is a fad Land, that in one day
Hath dull'd thee thus, when death

shall freeze

Thy bloud to Ice, and thou must stay

Tenant for Yeares, and Centuries;

How wilt thou brook't?—

I cannot tell ;

Body.

But if all fence wings not with thee,
And fomething ftill be left the dead,
I'le wish my Curtaines off, to free
Me from fo darke and fad a bed;

A neft of nights, a gloomie sphere,
Where shadowes thicken, and the Cloud
Sits on the Sun's brow all the yeare,
And nothing moves without a fhrowd.

Soule.

"Tis fo: But as thou fawest that night
Wee travell'd in, our first attempts

Were dull and blind, but Cuftome straight
Our fears and falls brought to contempt.

Then, when the ghaftly twelve was past,
We breath'd still for a blushing East,
And bad the lazie Sunne make haste,
And on fure hopes, though long, did feast.

But when we faw the Clouds to crack,
And in thofe Cranies light appear'd,
We thought the day then was not flack,
And pleas'd our felves with what wee feared.

Juft fo it is in death. But thou
Shalt in thy mother's bofome fleepe,
Whilft I each minute grone to know
How neere Redemption creepes.

Then shall wee meet to mixe again, and met,
'Tis laft good-night; our Sunne fshall never set.

I

Job. Cap. 10. ver. 21. 22.

Before goe whence I shall not returne, even to the land of darknesse, and the shadow of death;

A Land of darknesse, as darknesse it selfe, and of the fhadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darknesse.

Refurrection and Immortality :

Heb. cap. 10. ver. 20.

By that new, and living way, which he hath prepared for us, through the veile, which is his flesh.

Body.

I.

Ft have I seen, when that renewing breath,
That binds and loosens death,

Inspir'd a quickning power through the
dead

Creatures abed,

Some drowfie filk-worme creepe

From that long fleepe,

And in weake, infant hummings chime, and knell About her filent Cell,

Until at last full with the vitall Ray

She wing'd away,

And proud with life, and fence,

Heaven's rich Expence,

Esteem'd (vaine things!) of two whole Elements As meane, and fpan-extents.

Shall I then thinke fuch providence will be

Leffe friend to me?

Or that he can endure to be unjust

Who keeps his Covenant even with our duft.

Soule.

2.

Poore, querulous handfull! was't for this

I taught thee all that is?

Unbowel'd nature fhew'd thee her recruits,
And Change of fuits,

And how of death we make

A meere mistake;

For no thing can to Nothing fall, but still
Incorporates by skill,

And then returns, and from the wombe of things
Such treasure brings,

As Phenix-like renew'th

Both life, and youth;

For a preserving spirit doth ftill paffe
Untainted through this Maffe,
Which doth refolve, produce, and ripen all
That to it fall;

Nor are those births, which we
Thus fuffering fee,

Destroy'd at all; But when time's restless wave
Their fubftance doth deprave,

And the more noble Effence finds his house
Sickly and loose,

He, ever young, doth wing
Unto that spring,

And fource of fpirits, where he takes his lot,
Till time no more fhall rot

His paffive Cottage; which (though laid afide,)
Like fome spruce Bride,

Shall one day rise, and cloath'd with shining light
All pure, and bright,

Re-marry to the foule, for 'tis most plaine
Thou only fal'ft to be refin'd againe.

3.

Then I that here faw darkly in a glaffe

But mists and shadows paffe,