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LORD JESUS! with what sweetness and delights,
Sure, holy hopes, high joys, and quickning flights,
Dost thou feed thine! O thou! the hand that lifts
To Him who gives all good and perfect gifts,
Thy glorious, bright ascension, though remov'd
So many ages from me, is so prov'd,

And by thy Spirit seal'd to me, that I
Feel me a sharer in thy victory!

I soar and rise

Up to the skies,

Leaving the world their day;
And in my flight,

For the true light,

Go seeking all the way;

I greet thy sepulchre, salute thy grave,
That blest inclosure, where the angels gave
The first glad tidings of thy early light,
And resurrection from the earth and night.

I see that morning in thy convert's* tears,
Fresh as the dew, which but this dawning wears.
I smell her spices; and her ointment yields
As rich a scent as the now-primros'd fields.
The day-star smiles, and light with the deceast
Now shines in all the chambers of the East.
What stirs, what posting intercourse and mirth
Of saints and angels glorifie the earth?
What sighs, what whispers, busie stops and stays,
Private and holy talk, fill all the ways ?
They pass as at the last great day, and run
In their white robes to see the risen Sun;

I see them, hear them, mark their haste, and move Amongst them, with them, wing'd with faith and


Thy forty days more secret commerce here,
After thy death and funeral, so clear

And indisputable, shews to my sight

As the sun doth, which to those days gave light. I walk the fields of Bethany, which shine

All now as fresh as Eden, and as fine.

Such was the bright world on the first seventh day,
Before man brought forth sin, and sin decay;
When like a virgin, clad in flowers and green,
The pure earth sat, and the fair woods had seen
No frost, but flourish'd in that youthful vest
With which their great Creator had them drest;
When heav'n above them shin'd like molten glass,
While all the planets did unclouded pass;

St. Mary Magdalene.

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