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WEIGHING the stedfastness and state
Of some mean things which here below reside,
Where birds like watchful clocks the noiseless date
And intercourse of times divide,

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
The staidness of these things to man! for these
To his divine appointments ever cleave,

And no new business breaks their peace;
The birds nor sow nor reap, yet sup and dine,
The flowres without clothes live,
Yet Solomon was never drest so fine.


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
And passage through these looms
God order'd motion, but ordain'd no rest.



I WALKT the other day, to spend my hour,
Into a field,

Where I sometimes had seen the soil to yield
A gallant flowre;

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 I'th' face of things,

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,
I digg'd about

That place where I had seen him to grow out;
And by and by

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
Did there repair

Such losses as befel him in this air,
And would ere long

Come forth most fair and young.


This past, I threw the clothes quite o'er his head; And stung with fear

Of my own frailty dropt down many a tear
Upon his bed;

Then sighing whisper'd, "Happy are the dead!
What peace doth now
Rock him asleep below!"


And yet, how few believe such doctrine springs
From a poor root,

Which all the winter sleeps here under foot,
And hath no wings

To raise it to the truth and light of things;
But is stil trod

By ev'ry wandring clod.


O Thou whose spirit did at first inflame
And warm the dead,

And by a sacred incubation fed

With life this frame,

Which once had neither being, forme, nor name!

Grant I may so

Thy steps track here below,


That in these masques and shadows I may see
Thy sacred way;

And by those hid ascents climb to that day
Which breaks from Thee,

Who art in all things, though invisibly!
Shew me thy peace,

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


I mourn!


KING of mercy, King of love,
In whom I live, in whom I move,
Perfect what thou hast begun,
Let no night put out this sun.
Grant I may, my chief desire,
Long for thee, to thee aspire!

Let my youth, my bloom of dayes,
Be my comfort and thy praise;
That hereafter, when I look
O'er the sullyed, sinful book,
may find thy hand therein
Wiping out my shame and sin!

O it is thy only art

To reduce a stubborn heart;
And since thine is victorie,
Strong holds should belong to thee.
Lord, then take it, leave it not

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 pre sent 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.


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