I straight return'd, and knowing his great birth, In cities, theatres, gardens, parks, and courts: At length I heard a ragged noise and mirth Of thieves and murderers: there I him efpied, Who ftraight, Your fuit is granted, faid, and died. 11. Sepulchre. BLESSED Body! whither art thou thrown? No lodging for thee, but a cold hard ftone? Sure there is room within our hearts good store; For they can lodge tranfgreffions by the score: Thousands of toys dwell there, yet out of door They leave thee. But that which fhews them large, fhews them unfit. Whatever fin did this pure rock commit, Which holds thee now? Who hath indited it Of murder? Where our hard hearts have took up ftones to brain thee, And miffing this, most falsely did arraign thee; Only these stones in quiet entertain thee, And order. And as of old, the Law by heavenly art Yet do we still perfist as we began, And so should perish, but that nothing can, Withhold thee. 12. Eafter. ISE heart; thy Lord is rifen. Sing his praise Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise With him mayst rise : That, as his death calcined thee to duft, His life may make thee gold, and much more, Just. Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part With all thy art. The cross taught all wood to refound his name His stretched finews taught all strings, what key Confort both heart and lute, and twist a song Pleasant and long: Or fince all mufic is but three parts vied, And multiplied; O let thy bleffed Spirit bear a part, And make up our defects with his sweet art. I GOT me flowers to ftrew thy way; I got me boughs off many a tree : But thou waft up by break of day, And brought'ft thy fweets along with thee. The Sun arifing in the East, Though he give light, and the East perfume; If they should offer to conteft With thy arifing, they prefume. Can there be any day but this, Though many funs to shine endeavour ? EASTER -WINGS. 13. LORD, who createdft man in wealth and store, Till he became With thee O let me rife As Larks, harmoniously, And fing this day thy victories: Then fhall the fall further the flight in me. My tender age in forrow did begin: And ftill with fickneffes and shame Thou didst so punish fin, That I became Most thin. With thee Let me combine, And feel this day thy victory, For, if I imp my wing on thine, Affliction fhall advance the flight in me. 14. Holy Baptifm. S he that fees a dark and fhady grove, So when I view my fins, mine eyes remove Which is above the heavens, whofe fpring and vent Is in my dear Redeemer's pierced fide. O bleffed streams! either ye do prevent And stop our fins from growing thick and wide, In Or else give tears to drown them, as they grow. you Redemption measures all my time, And spreads the plafter equal to the crime: You taught the book of life my name, that so, Whatever future fins fhould me mifcall, 15. Holy Baptism. INCE, Lord, to thee A narrow way and little gate Is all the paffage, on my infancy My faith in me. |