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Cardinal Wolsey's Lamentation of his Fall.
SHAKESPEAR. TAREWELL, a long Farewell to all my Greati
ness! This is the State of Man ; to-day he puts forth The tender Leaves of Hope ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing Honours thick upon him ; The third Day comes a Frost, a killing Frost, And when he thinks, good eafy Man, full surely His Greatness is a ripening, nips his Root ; And then falls, as I do. I have ventur'd, Like little wanton Boys that swim on Bladders, These many Summers, in a Sea of Glory; But far beyond my Depth: My high-blown Pride At length broke under me; and now has left me, Weary and old with Service, to the Mercy . Of a rude Stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain Pomp and Glory of this World, I hate you; I feel my Heart new open'd. Oh, how wretched Is that poor Man, that hangs on Princes Favours ! There is, betwixt that Smile which we aspire to, That fweet Regard of Princes, and our Ruin, More Pangs and Fears than War and Women know; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a Tear In all my Miseries ; but thou hast forc'd me, .. Out of thy honest Truth, to play the WomanLet's dry our Eyes: And thus far hear me, Cromwell; Mark but my Fall, and that which ruin'd me, And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And seep in dull cold Marble, where no Mention
Preservation by Land and by Sea . .' A Divine O DE.
SPECTATOR. HI TOW are thy Servants blefi, O Lord!.
11 How sure is their Defence! . .
Their Help. Omnipotence.
2. In foreign Realms, and Lands remote,
Supported by Thy Care,
And breath'd in tainted Air.
7. For tho' in dreadful Whirls we hung
High on the broken Wave,
Nor Impotent to Save.
8. The Storm was laid, the Winds retir'd,
Obedient to thy Will;
At thy Command was still.
RECOVERY from SICKNESS.
4. But Thou hast told the troubled Mind,
Who does her Sins lament,
Shall endless Woe prevent.