M

JESUS WEEPING.

ST. JOHN, CHAP. 11. VER. 35.

Y dear, Almighty Lord! why dost Thou

weep?

Why dost Thou groan and groan again?
And with such deep,

Repeated sighs Thy kinde heart pain?
Since the same sacred breath, which thus
Doth mourn for us,

Can make man's dead and scatter'd bones Unite, and raise up all that dyed, at once?

O holy groans! groans of the Dove!

O healing tears! the tears of love! Dew of the dead! which makes dust move And spring, how is't that you so sadly grieve, Who can relieve?

Should not Thy sighs refrain Thy store
Of tears, and not provoke to more?
Since two afflictions may not raign

In one at one time, as some feign.

Those blasts, which o'r our heads here stray,
If showers then fall, will showers allay;
As those poor pilgrims oft have tryed,
Who in this windy world abide.

Dear Lord! Thou art all grief and love;
But which Thou art most, none can prove.
Thou griev'st, man should himself undo,
And lov'st him, though he works Thy wo.

'Twas not that vast, almighty measure Which is requir'd to make up life,

-Though purchas'd with Thy heart's dear

treasure

Did breed this strife

Of grief and pity in Thy brest,

The throne where peace and power rest:

But 'twas Thy love that-without leave— Made Thine eyes melt, and Thy heart heave. For though death cannot so undo

What Thou hast done, but though man too

-

Should help to spoil-Thou canst restore
All better far then 'twas before.

Yet Thou so full of pity art

-Pity which overflows Thy heart!-
That, though the cure of all man's harm
Is nothing to Thy glorious Arm,

Yet canst not Thou that free cure do,
But Thou must sorrow for him too.

Then farewel joys! for while I live,
My business here shall be to grieve:
A grief that shall outshine all joys

For mirth and life, yet without noise.
A grief, whose silent dew shall breed
Lilies and myrrhe, where the curs'd seed
Did sometimes rule. A grief so bright,
'Twill make the land of darkness light;
And while too many sadly roam,

Shall send me-swan like-singing home.

PSALM 73. ver. 25.

Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon Earth, that I desire besides Thee.

PROVIDENCE.

ACRED and secret hand!

By whose assisting, swift command
The angel shewd that holy well,

Which freed poor Hagar from her fears,
And turn'd to smiles the begging tears
Of yong, distressèd Ishmael.

How in a mystick cloud

-Which doth thy strange sure mercies shroudDoest Thou convey man food and money

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 cv'n captives freeA fish shall all my tribute pay,'

The swift-wing'd raven2 shall bring me meat, And I, like flowers, shall still go neat, As if I knew no moneth but May.

I will not fear what man

With all his plots and power can.
Bags that wax old3 may plundered be;
But none can sequester or let

A state that with the sun doth set,
And comes next morning fresh as he.

Poor birds this doctrine sing,
And herbs which on dry hills do spring,
Or in the howling wilderness

Do know Thy dewy morning hours,
And watch all night for mists showers,
Then drink and praise Thy bounteousness.

May he for ever dye

Who trusts not Thee, but wretchedly
Hunts gold and wealth, and will not lend
Thy service nor his soul one day!

1 St. Matthew xvii. 27. G.

3 St. Luke, xii. 33. G.

21 Kings, xvii., 4. G.

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,
Were by my causless enemies

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,
And wilt not leave me when grown old;
Gladly will I, like Pontick sheep,
Unto my wormwood-diet keep,1
Since Thou hast made Thy Arm my fold.

B

THE KNOT.

RIGHT Queen of Heaven! God's virgin
Spouse!

The glad world's blessed maid!

Whose beauty tyed life to thy house,

And brought us saving ayd.

1 Sheep fed on the Euxine [Euxinus Pontus]-the

allusion being to the (legendary) salt-lake or

sea of

Maeotis: (Polybius iv. 22-43). G.