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WEIGHING the stedfastness and state
Where bees at night get home and hive, and flowrs, Early as well as late,
Rise with the sun, and set in the same bowrs;
I would, said I, my God would give
And no new business breaks their peace;
Man hath still either toyes or care; He hath no root, nor to one place is ty'd, But ever restless and irregular
About this earth doth run and ride. He knows he hath a home, but scarce knows where; He sayes it is so far,
That he hath quite forgot how to go there.
He knocks at all doors, strays and roams; Nay, hath not so much wit as some stones have, Which in the darkest nights point to their homes By some hid sense their Maker gave;
Man is the shuttle, to whose winding quest
I WALKT THE OTHER DAY.
I WALKT the other day, to spend my hour,
Where I sometimes had seen the soil to yield
But winter now had ruffled all the bowre
And curious store
I knew there heretofore.
Yet I, whose search lov'd not to peep and peer
Thought with myself there might be other springs Besides this here,
Which, like cold friends, sees us but once a year; And so the flowre
Might have some other bowre.
Then, taking up what I could neerest spie,
That place where I had seen him to grow out;
I saw the warm recluse alone to lie,
Where fresh and green
He lived of us unseen.
Many a question intricate and rare
Did I there strow;
But all I could extort was, that he now
Such losses as befel him in this air,
Come forth most fair and young.
This past, I threw the clothes quite o'er his head;
Of my own frailty dropt down many a tear
Then sighing whisper'd, "Happy are the dead!
And yet, how few believe such doctrine springs
Which all the winter sleeps here under foot,
To raise it to the truth and light of things;
By ev'ry wandring clod.
O Thou whose spirit did at first inflame
And by a sacred incubation fed
With life this frame,
Which once had neither being, forme, nor name!
That in these masques and shadows I may see
And by those hid ascents climb to that day
Who art in all things, though invisibly!
Thy mercy, love, and ease!
And from this care, where dreams and sorrows raign, Lead me above,
Where light, joy, leisure, and true comforts move Without all pain;
There, hid in thee, shew me his life again,
At whose dumbe urn
Thus all the year I mourn!
KING of mercy, King of love,
Let my youth, my bloom of dayes,
To reduce a stubborn heart;
Unto my dispose or lot;
But since I would not have it mine,
O my God, let it be thine!
Jude 24, 25.
Now unto Him that is able to keep us from falling, and to present us faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy,
To the only wise God, our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, now and ever. Amen.
END OF THE FIRST PART.