THE RETREATE. HAPPY those early dayes, when I Before I taught my tongue to wound That shady city of palme-trees. But ah! my soul with too much stay COME, COME. I. COME, come! what doe I here? Since he is gone Each day is grown a dozen year, Come, come! Cut off the sum By these soil'd tears! (Which only thou Know'st to be true,) II. There's not a wind can stir, Or beam passe by, But strait I think, though far, Thy hand is nigh. Come, come! Strike these lips dumb: This restless breath, Will ne'r be tame III. Perhaps some think a tombe But a dark, seal'd up wombe, Such thoughts benum. But I would be With him I weep A-bed, and sleep To wake in thee. MIDNIGHT. I. WHEN to my eyes, Whilst deep sleep others catches, Thine host of spyes, The starres, shine in their watches, I doe survey Each busie ray, And how they work and wind, And with each beame My soul doth stream With the like ardour shin'd. What emanations, Quick vibrations, And bright stirs are there! What thin ejections, And slow motions here! II. Thy heav'ns, some say, Are a firie-liquid light, Which mingling aye Streames and flames thus to the sight. Come then, my God! Shine on this bloud And water in one beame; And thou shalt see, Kindled by thee, Both liquors burne and streame. Active brightness, And celestiall flowes, Will follow after On that water, Matt. iii. 11. I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance; but he that commeth after me is mightier than I, whose shooes I am not worthy to beare; he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire. CONTENT. I. PEACE, peace! I know 'twas brave; But this coarse fleece, I shelter in, is slave To no such peece. When I am gone, I shall no wardrobes leave To friend or sonne, But what their own homes weave. II. Such, though not proud nor full, And mourn to see the wooll Outlast the sheep; Poore, pious weare! Hadst thou bin rich or fine, Perhaps that teare Had mourn'd thy losse, not mine. III. Why then these curl'd, puffed points, Or a laced story? Death sets all out of joint, And scornes their glory. Some love a rose In hand, some in the skin; But, crosse to those, I would have mine within. |