When suddenly I heard one say, Expel good motions from thy breast, I, who had heard of music in the spheres, Dread Lord, said I, so oft my good; For I will do, or suffer what I ought. But I have also stars and shooters too, Than thou to grant mine: but because Thy promise now hath even set thee thy laws. Then we are shooters both, and thou dost deign To enter combat with us, and contest With thine own clay. But I would parley fain : Shun not my arrows, and behold my breast. Yet if thou shunnest, I am thine : I must be so, if I am mine. There is no articling with thee: I am but finite, yet thine infinitely. CHURCH-RENTS AND SCHISMS. BRAVE rose, (alas!) where art thou? in the chair, Why doth my Mother blush? is she the rose, Turned your ruddy into pale and bleak: Your health and beauty both began to break. Then did your several parts unloose and start : Where Pagans tread. O Mother dear and kind, As many eyes as stars? since it is night, K JUSTICE. O DREADFUL Justice, what a fright and terror When Sin and Error Did show and shape thy looks to me, And through their glass discolour thee! He that did but look up, was proud and bold. The dishes of thy balance seem'd to gape, The beam and scape Did like some tottering engine show: Thy hand above did burn and glow, Daunting the stoutest hearts, the proudest wits. But now that Christ's pure veil presents the sight, I see no fears: Thy hand is white, Thy scales like buckets, which attend Lifting to heaven from this well of tears. For where before thou still didst call on me, And harp on thee. God's promises have made thee mine: Why should I justice now decline? Against me there is none, but for me much. THE PILGRIMAGE. I TRAVELL'D on, seeing the hill, where lay A long it was and weary way. The gloomy cave of Desperation I left on the one, and on the other side And so I came to Fancy's meadow strew'd Fain would I here have made abode, So to Care's copse I came, and there got through. That led me to the wild of Passion; which A wasted place, but sometimes rich. At length I got unto the gladsome hill, Where lay my heart; and climbing still, With that abash'd and struck with many a sting I fell, and cried, Alas! my King ; Can both the way and end be tears? Yet taking heart I rose, and then perceived I was deceived: My hill was further: so I flung away, Just as I went, None goes that way THE HOLD-FAST. I THREATEN'D to observe the strict decree Of my dear God with all my power and might : But I was told by one, it could not be ; Yet I might trust in God to be my light. Then will I trust, said I, in him alone. Nay, even to trust in him, was also his : We must confess, that nothing is our own. Then I confess that he my succour is : But to have nought is ours, not to confess That we have nought. I stood amazed at this, Much troubled, till I heard a friend express, That all things were more ours by being his. What Adam had, and forfeited for all, |