Here musing long I heard A rushing wind, Which still increas'd; but whence it stirr'd, X. I turn'd me round, and to each shade Dispatch'd an eye, To see if any leafe had made But, while I listning sought By knowing where 'twas, or where not, "Lord," then said I," on me one breath, Cant. v. 17. Arise, O north, and come, thou south wind, and blow upon my garden that the spices thereof may flow out. "TIs a sad land, that in one day Hath dull'd thee thus, when death shall freeze Thy bloud to ice, and thou must stay Tenant for yeares and centuries: How wilt thou brook't? BODY. I cannot tell; But if all sence wings not with thee, A nest of nights, a gloomie sphere, SOULE. 'Tis so; but, as thou sawest that night Then, when the ghastly twelve was past, But when we saw the clouds to crack, We thought the day then was not slack, Just so it is in death. But thou Shalt in thy mother's bosome sleepe, Whilst I each minute grone to know How neere redemption creepes. Then shall wee meet to mixe again, and met, Job x. 21, 22. Before I goe whence I shall not returne, even to the land of darknesse, and the shadow of death; A land of darknesse, as darknesse itselfe, and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darknesse. RESURRECTION AND IMMORTALITY. Heb. x. 20. By that new and living way which he hath prepared for us, through the veile, which is his flesh. BODY. I. OFT have I seen, when that renewing breath, Inspir'd a quickning power through the dead Some drowsie silk-worme creepe From that long sleepe, And in weake, infant hummings chime, and knell About her silent cell, Until at last full with the vitall ray And proud with life and sence, Esteem'd (vaine things!) of two whole elements Shall I then thinke such providence will be Or that he can endure to be unjust Who keeps his covenant even with our dust? SOULE. II. Poore, querulous handfull! was't for this And how of death we make A meere mistake; For no thing can to nothing fall, but still And then returns, and from the wombe of things As Phenix-like renew'th Both life and youth; For a preserving spirit doth still passe Which doth resolve, produce, and ripen all Nor are those births, which we Thus suffering see, Destroy'd at all; but when time's restless wave And the more noble essence finds his house He, ever young, doth wing And source of spirits, where he takes his lot, His passive cottage; which (though laid aside), Shall one day rise, and cloath'd with shining light Re-marry to the soule, for 'tis most plaine III. Then I that here saw darkly in a glasse But mists and shadows passe, [springs And, by their owne weake shine, did search the And course of things, Shall with inlightned rayes Pierce all their wayes; And as thou saw'st, I in a thought could goe To reade some starre or minʼrall, and in state So shalt thou then with me, Both wing'd and free, Rove in that mighty and eternall light, |