ALEXANDER ROSSE. AURORA. A MEDITATION. As fair Aurora from old Tithon's bed Flies out with painted wings, and them doth spread Upon the firmament; So from the heaven's golden cabinet Out flies a morning all with roses set, Whose presence did revive the hearts of those This Morning in a purple chariot rides, In spite of death and hell: Christ is this Morning, who triumphantly The four evangelists, whose light doth run Or morn, or any star. "Tis he, that eagle-like our youth renews, And in us all infirmities subdues : 'Tis he whose radiant wings Display'd abroad, have chas'd away the night, And usher'd in the day which mental light And true contentment brings. Oh Thou, whose face doth gild the canopy, That doth infold fire, air, and earth, and sea, Extend thy glorious rays On me! Oh let me see that countenance Which may dispel the night of ignorance!— So shall I sing thy praise. BACCHUS. A MEDITATION. If you would a monarch see Who triumphed first, and wore Which hath made us laugh, and sing He flung overboard and drown'd With their whips and crown of thorn, Hecaté, queen of the night, Held him not, for all her might; Burst her gates, and got out thence. Which distill'd from this crush'd grape: 'Twas for me this grape was press'd— Drink, my soul, and take thy rest. |