And met in the Eaft their first and ancient found,
Judgment may meet them both, and search them round
Thus do both lights, as well in Church as Sun,
Light one another, and together run.
Thus alfo Sin and Darkness follow ftill
The Church and Sun with all their

power and fkill But as the Sun still goes both West and East: So alfo did the Church by going West Still Eastward go; because it drew more near To time and place, where judgment shall How dear to me, O God, thy counfels are!

with thee compare?

appear.

L'Envoy.

ING of glory, King of peace,
With the one make war to cease;
With the other bless thy sheep,
Thee to love, in thee to fleep.
Let not fin devour thy fold,
Bragging that thy blood is cold;
That thy death is also dead,
While his conquests daily spread ;
That thy flesh hath loft his food,
And thy Crofs is common wood.
Choke him, let him say no more,
But referve his breath in store,

Till thy conqueft and his fall
Make his fighs to use it all;

And then bargain with the wind
To discharge what is behind.

Bleffed be God alone,

Thrice bleed Three in One.

III. Miscellaneous Poems.

1. A Sonnet.

Sent by George Herbert to his Mother as a New Year's Gift from Cambridge.

M

Y God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole fhoals of Martyrs once did burn, Befides their other flames? Doth poetry

Wear Venus' livery? only serve her turn? Why are not fonnets made of thee? and lays Upon thine altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to found out thy praise

As well as any she? Cannot thy Dove Outftrip their Cupid easily in flight?

Or, fince thy ways are deep, and still the same, Will not a verse run smooth that bears thy name? Why doth that fire, which by thy power and might Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose

Than that, which one day, worms may chance

refuse.

Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry

Oceans of ink; for, as the Deluge did Cover the Earth, fo doth thy Majesty:

Each cloud diftils thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use.

Rofes and lilies speak thee; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse.

Why should I women's eyes for crystal take? Such poor invention burns in their low mind Whofe fire is wild, and doth not upward go To praise, and on thee, Lord, fome ink bestow. Open the bones, and you shall nothing find In the best face but filth; when Lord, in thee The beauty lies, in the discovery.

2. Inscription.

In the Parfonage, Bemerton.

To my Succeffor.

F thou chance for to find
A new House to thy mind
And built without thy Coft:
Be good to the Poor,

As God gives thee store,
And then
my Labour's not loft.

3. On Lord Danvers.

ACRED marble, fafely keep

His duft, who under thee must sleep,

Until the years again restore

Their dead, and time shall be no more.
Mean while, if he, (which all things wears)

Does ruin thee, or if thy tears

Are shed for him; diffolve thy frame,
Thou art requited: for his fame,
His virtue, and his worth fhall be
Another monument to thee.

4. A Paradox.*

(From a MS. Collection formerly Dr. Rawlinson's, in the Bodleian Library, Oxford.)

That the Sick are in a better cafe,
then the Whole.

OU who admire yourselves because
You neither groan nor weep,
And think it contrary to Nature's laws

To want one ounce of fleep,

* See a poem (No. xli.) in the Synagogue at the end of the

volume.