Sure there is room within our hearts, good store,
For they can lodge transgressions by the score;
Thousands of toys dwell there; yet out of door
They leave thee.

But that which shews them large, shews them unfit.
Whatever sin did this pure rock commit,

Which holds thee now? Who hath indicted it

Of murder?

Where our hard hearts have took up stones to brain thee, And, missing this, most falsely did arraign thee;

Only these stones in quiet entertain thee,

And order.

And as of old the law by heavenly art
Was writ in stone, so thou, which also art
The letter of the word, find'st no fit heart

To hold thee.

Yet do we still persist as we began;

And so should perish, but that nothing can-
Though it be cold, hard, foul—from loving man

Withhold thee.

Easter.

RISE, heart! thy Lord is risen. Sing his praise

Without delays,

Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise

With him mayst rise;

That, as his death calcined thee to dust,

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 resound his name, Who bore the same.

His stretched sinews taught all strings what key Is best to celebrate this most high day.

Consort both heart and lute, and twist a song

Pleasant and long:

Or, since all music is but three parts vied,
And multiplied,

O let thy blessed Spirit bear a part,

And make up our defects with his sweet art.

I GOT me flowers to strew thy way;
got me boughs off many a tree;

But thou wast up by break of day,

And brought'st thy sweets along with thee.

The sun arising in the east,—

Though he give light, and th' east perfume;

If they should offer to contest

With thy arising, they presume.

Can there be any day but this,
Though many suns to shine endeavor?
We count three hundred-but we miss;
There is but one, and that one, ever.

Easter Wings.

Poly Baptism.

As he that sees a dark and shady grove
Stays not, but looks beyond it on the sky;
So, when I view my sins, mine eyes remove
More backward still, and to that water fly,

Which is above the heavens; whose spring and vent
Is in my dear Redeemer's pierced side.

O blessed streams! either ye do prevent

And stop our sins from growing thick and wide,

Or else give tears to drown them as they grow.
In you redemption measures all my time,
And spreads the plaster equal to the crime.
You taught the book of life my name, that so,
Whatever future sins should me miscall,
Your first acquaintance might discredit all.

Holy Baptism.

SINCE, Lord, to thee

A narrow way and little gate
Is all the passage; on my infancy
Thou didst lay hold, and antedate
My faith in me.

Oh! let me still

Write thee Great God, and me a child.
Let me be soft and supple to thy will,
Small to myself, to others mild,

Be-hither ill.