But here, commission'd by a black self-will, The children chase the mother, and would heal Then cast her bloud and tears upon thy book, Where they for fashion look; And, like that lamb which had the dragon's voice, Seem mild, but are known by their noise. Thus, by our lusts disorder'd into wars, Which for these mists and black days were reserv'd, Yet O for His sake who sits now by thee So guide us through this darkness, that we may Settle and fix our hearts, that we may move And, taught obedience by thy whole creation, Give to thy spouse her perfect and pure dress, And so repair these rents, that men may see, say, M THE SHEPHEARDS. SWEET, harmless lives! on whose holy leisure Whose leaders to those pastures and cleer springs How happend it, that, in the dead of night, While Palestine was fast asleep, and lay Was it because those first and blessed swains When they receiv'd the promise, for which now 'Twas there first shown to you? 'Tis true, he loves that dust whereon they go And therefore might, for memory of those, But wretched Salem, once his love, must now Her stately piles, with all their height and pride, And Bethlem's humble cotts above them stept, Her cedar, firr, hew'd stones, and gold were all And those once sacred mansions were now Meer emptiness and show. This made the angel call at reeds and thatch, And God's own lodging, though he could not lack, To be a common kack; No costly pride, no soft-cloath'd luxurie, In those thin cels could lie ; Each stirring wind and storm blew thro' their cots, Only content and love and humble joys Perhaps some harmless cares for the next day As where to lead their sheep, what silent nook, But that was all; and now, with gladsome care, They leave their flock, and, in a busie talk, To see their soul's great Shepheard, who was come Where now they find him out, and, taught before, That Lamb of God adore; That Lamb whose daies great kings and prophets And long'd to see, but miss'd. [wish'd The first light they beheld was bright and gay, And turn'd their night to day; But, to this later light they saw in him, Their day was dark and dim. MISERY. LORD, bind me up, and let me lye If such a state at all can be Where they all stray and strive, which shall As if thou hadst nor ears nor eyes. All unregarded, and thy book He goes, His Holy Spirit grieves therefore; The mighty God, th' eternal King, Doth grieve for dust, and dust doth sing. Myself of reason, till opprest Who shouldst not then come neer to me; |