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But all the doctrine, which he taught and gave,

Was clear as heaven, from whence it came. At least those beams of truth, which only save,

Surpass in brightness any flame.

Love God, and love your neighbour. Watch and pray.

Do as you would be done unto.
O dark instructions, even as dark as day!

Who can these Gordian knots undo?

But he doth bid us take his blood for wine.

Bid what he please ; yet I am sure,
To take and taste what he doth there design,

Is all that saves, and not obscure.

Then burn thy Epicycles, foolish man ;

Break all thy spheres, and save thy head ; Faith needs no staff of flesh, but stoutly can

To Heaven alone both go, and lead.




And art thou grieved, sweet and sacred Dove,

When I am sour,

And cross thy love?
Grieved for me? the God of strength and power

Grieved for a worm, which when I tread,

pass away and leave it dead?

Then weep, mine eyes, the God of love doth grieve :

Weep foolish heart,

And weeping live ;
For death is dry as dust. Yet if we part,

End as the night, whose sable hue
Your sins express ; melt into dew.

When saucy Mirth shall knock or call at door, ,

Cry out, Get hence,

Or cry no more.
Almighty God doth grieve, he puts on sense :

I sin not to my grief alone,
But to my God's too ; he doth groan.

O take thy lute, and tune it to a strain,

Which may with thee

All day complain.
There can no discord but in ceasing be.

Marbles can weep; and surely strings
More bowels have, than such hard things.

Lord, I adjudge myself to tears and grief,

Even endless tears

Without relief.
If a clear spring for me no time forbears,

But runs, although I be not dry;
I am no Crystal, what shall I ?

Yet if I wail not still, since still to wail

Nature denies ;

And flesh would fail,
If my deserts were masters of mine eyes :

Lord, pardon, for thy Son makes good
My want of tears with store of blood.


What doth this noise of thoughts within my heart,

As if they had a part ?
What do these loud complaints and pulling fears,

As if there were no rule or ears?

But, Lord, the house and family are thine,

Though some of them repine.
Turn out these wranglers, which defile thy seat :

For where thou dwellest all is neat.

First Peace and Silence all disputes control,

Then Order plays the soul ;
And giving all things their set forms and hours,

Makes of wild woods sweet walks and bowers.

Humble Obedience near the door doth stand,

Expecting a command :
Than whom in waiting nothing seems more slow,

Nothing more quick when she doth go.

Joys oft are there, and griefs as oft as joys;

But griefs without a noise :
Yet speak they louder, than distemper'd fears :

What is so shrill as silent tears?

This is thy house, with these it doth abound :

And where these are not found, Perhaps thou comest sometimes, and for a day;

But not to make a constant stay.


CONTENT thee, greedy heart.
Modest and moderate joys to those, that have
Title to more hereafter when they part,

Are passing brave.
Let th' upper springs into the low
Descend and fall, and thou dost flow.

What though some have a fraught Of cloves and nutmegs, and in cinnamon sail ? If thou hast wherewithal to spice a draught, When griefs prevail

, And for the future time art heir To th' Isle of Spices, is't not fair?

To be in both worlds full
Is more than God was, who was hungry here.
Wouldst thou his laws of fasting disannul?

Enact good cheer?
Lay out thy joy, yet hope to save it?
Wouldst thou both eat thy cake, and have it?

Great joys are all at once ;
But little do reserve themselves for more:
Those have their hopes; these what they have renounce,

And live on score :
Those are at home; these journey still,
And meet the rest on Sion's hill.

Thy Saviour sentenced joy, And in the flesh condemn'd it as unfit,

At least in lump: for such doth oft destroy;

Whereas a bit
Doth 'tice us on to hopes of more,
And for the present health restore.

A Christian's state and case
Is not a corpulent, but a thin and spare,
Yet active strength : whose long and bony face

Content and care
Do seem to equally divide,
Like a pretender, not a bride.

Wberefore sit down, good heart;
Grasp not at much, for fear thou losest all.
If comforts fell according to desert,

They would great frosts and snows destroy :
For we should count, Since the last joy.

Then close again the seam,
Which thou hast open'd; do not spread thy robe
In hope of great things. Call to mind thy dream,

An earthly globe,
On whose meridian was engraven,
These Seas are tears, and Heaven the haven.


As I one evening sat before my cell,
Methought a star did shoot into my lap.
I rose, and shook my clothes, as knowing well,
That from small fires comes oft no small mishap :

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