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If he had not liv'd for thee,
Thou hadst died most wretchedly;
And two deaths had been thy fee.

He so far thy good did plot,
That his own self he forgot.
Did he die, or did he not?

If he had not died for thee,
Thou hadst liv'd in misery;

Two lives worse than ten deaths be.

And hath any space of breath
"Twixt his sins and Saviour's death!

He that loseth gold, though dross,
Tells to all he meets his cross:
He that sins, hath he no loss?

He that finds a silver vein,
Thinks on it, and thinks again :
Brings my Saviour's death no gain?

Who in heart not ever kneels,
Neither sin nor Saviour feels.

PROVIDENCE.

[HERBERT.]

O SACRED Providence, who, from end to end, Strongly and sweetly movest! shall I write, And not of thee, through whom my fingers bend To hold my quill? shall they not do thee right?

Of all the creatures, both in sea and land,
Only to man thou hast made known thy ways,
And put the pen alone into his hand,

And made him secretary of thy praise.

Beasts fain would sing; birds ditty to their notes;
Trees would be tuning on their native lute

To thy renown: but all their hands and throats
Are brought to man, while they are lame and mute.

Man is the world's High-Priest; he doth present
The sacrifice for all; while they below

Unto the service mutter an assent,

Such as springs use that fall, and winds that blow.

He that to praise and laud thee doth refrain,
Doth not refrain unto himself alone,

But robs a thousand, who would praise thee fain,
And doth commit a world of sin in one.

The beasts say, 'Eat me; but if beasts must teach,
The tongue is yours to eat, but mine to praise.'
The trees say, 'Pull me; but the hand you stretch,
Is mine to write, as it is yours to raise.'

Wherefore, most sacred Spirit, I here present,
For me and all my fellows, praise to thee:
And just it is that I should pay the rent,
Because the benefit accrues to me.

We all acknowledge both thy power and love,
To be exact, transcendent, and divine;

Who dost so strongly and so sweetly move,
While all things have their will, yet none but thine.

For either thy command or thy permission
Lay hands on all; they are thy right and left.
The first puts on with speed and expedition,
The other curbs sin's stealing pace and theft.

Nothing escapes them both; all must appear,
And be dispos'd, and dress'd, and tun'd by thee.
Who sweetly temper'st all. If we could hear
Thy skill and art, what music would it be !

Thou art, in small things great; not small in any :
Thy even praise can neither rise nor fall.

Thou art in all things, one; in each thing, many;
For thou art infinite in one, and all.

Tempests are calm to thee; they know thy hand, And hold it fast, as children do their father's, Which cry and follow. Thou hast made poor sand Check the proud sea, ev'n when it swells and gathers.

Thy cupboard serves the world; the meat is set,
Where all may reach; no beast but knows his feed.
Birds teach us hawking; fishes have their net;
The great prey on the less; they, on some weed.

Nothing engender'd doth prevent his meat;
Flies have their tables spread, ere they appear.
Some creatures have in winter what to eat;
Others do sleep, and envy not their cheer.

How finely dost thou times and seasons spin,
And make a twist checquer'd with night and day!
Which, as it lengthens, winds, and winds us in;
As bowls go on, but turning all the way.

Each creature hath a wisdom for his good.
The pigeons feed their offspring, crying,

When they are callow; but withdraw their food,
When they are fledge, that need may teach them flying.

Bees work for man; and yet they never bruise
Their master's flow'r; but leave it, having done,
As fair as ever, and as fit to use:

So both the flow'r doth stay, and honey run.

Sheep eat the grass, and dung the ground for more; Trees after bearing drop their leaves for soil:

Springs vent their streams, and, by expense, get store; Clouds cool by heat; and baths, by cooling, boil.

Who hath the virtue to express the rare

And curious virtues both of herbs and stones?
Is there a herb for that? Oh, that thy care
Would shew a root that gives expressions!

And if a herb have power, what have the stars!
A rose, besides his beauty, is a cure.

Doubtless our plagues and plenty, peace and wars,
Are there much surer than our art is sure.

Thou hast hid metals: man may take them thence,
But at his peril; when he digs the place,

He makes a grave; as if the thing had sense,
And threaten'd man, that he should fill the space.

Ev'n poisons praise thee. Should a thing be lost?
Should creatures want, for want of heed, their due?
Since where are poisons, antidotes are most;

The help stands close, and keeps the fear in view.

The sea which seems to stop the traveller,
Is by a ship the speedier passage made;
The winds, who think they rule the mariner,
Are rul'd by him, and taught to serve his trade.

And as thy house is full, so I adore,

Thy curious art in marshalling thy goods.

The hills with health abound; the vales, with store;
The south, with marble; north, with furs and woods.

Hard things are glorious; easy things, good cheap;
The common all men have; that, which is rare,
Men therefore seek to have, and care to keep:
The healthy frosts with summer fruits compare.

Light without wind, is glass; warm, without weight,
Is wool and furs: cool, without coldness, shade;
Speed, without pains, a horse; tall, without height,
A servile hawk; low, without loss, a spade.

All countries have enough to serve their need:
If they seek fine things, thou dost make them run,
For their offence; and then dost turn their speed,
To be commerce, and trade from sun to sun.

Nothing wears clothes, but man; nothing doth need,
But he, to wear them. Nothing useth fire,

But man alone: to shew his heav'nly breed:
And only he hath fuel in desire.

When th' earth was dry, thou mad'st a sea of wet;
When that lay gather'd, thou didst broach the

mountains;

When yet some places could no moisture get,
The winds grew gard'ners, and the clouds good fountains.

Rain, do not hurt my flowers; but gently spend
Your honey drops; press not to smell them here:
When they are ripe, their odour will ascend,
And at your lodging, with their thanks, appear.
How harsh are thorns, to pears! and yet they make
A better hedge and need less reparation;
How smooth are silks, compared with a stake,
Or with a stone! yet make no good foundation.
Sometimes thou dost divide thy gifts to man;
Sometimes unite. The Indian nut alone
Is clothing, meat and trencher, drink and can,
Boat, cable, sail and needle; all in one.

Most herbs, that grow in brooks, are hot and dry;
Cold fruits warm kernels help against the wind;
The lemon's juice and rind cure mutually :
The whey of milk doth loose, the milk doth bind.

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