Thou griev st, man should himself undo, 'Twas not that vast, almighty measure Which is requir'd to make up life, Though purchased with thy heart's dear treasure, Did breed this strife Of grief and pity in thy brest, The throne where peace and power rest; What thou hast done; yea, though man too Yet thou so full of pity art, That, though the cure of all man's harm Then farewell joys! for, while I live, And, while too many sadly roam, Shall send me, swan-like, singing home. Psal. lxxiii. 25. Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee. PROVIDENCE. SACRED and secret hand! Of Which freed poor Hagar from her fears, And turn'd to smiles the begging tears yong, distressed Ishmael. How, in a mystick cloud Which doth thy strange, sure mercies shroud, Unseen by him till they arrive Just at his mouth, that thankless hive, Which kills thy bees, and eats thy honey! If I thy servant be, Whose service makes ev'n captives free, A fish shall all my tribute pay, The swift-wing'd raven shall bring me meat, As if I knew no month but May. I will not fear what man, With all his plots and power, can. A state that with the sun doth set, Poor birds this doctrine sing, Do know thy dewy morning hours, And watch all night for mists or showers, Then drink and praise thy bounteousness. May he for ever dye Who trusts not thee! but wretchedly May his crown, like his hopes, be clay; And, what he saves, may his foes spend! If all my portion here, The measure given by thee each year, Usurp'd, it never should me grieve, Who know how well thou canst relieve, Whose hands are open as thine eyes. Great King of love and truth! Who would'st not hate my froward youth, old; And wilt not leave me when grown BRIGHT queen THE KNOT. of heaven! God's virgin spouse! The glad world's blessed maid! Whose beauty tyed life to thy house, Thou art the true loves-knot; by thee With his did dignifie. For coalescent by that band We are his body grown, And such a knot what arm dares loose, What life, what death, can sever? Which us in him, and him in us, United keeps for ever. THE ORNAMENT. THE lucky world shewd me one day Serious they seem'd, and bought up all But while each gay, alluring ware, Laid up Quite through their proud and pompous file, Blushing, and in meek weeds array'd, With native looks which knew no guile, Came the sheep-keeping Syrian maid. Whom strait the shining row all fac'd, For she is bravest, you confess. |