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I'll tug my tacklings then, I'll ply mine oars,
The giddy multitude
I wish may not intrude
The Font, I say. Why not? And why not near
To the Church door? Why not of stone ? Is not that blessed fountain open'd here,
From whence that water flows alone, Which from sin and uncleanness washeth clear?
And may not beggars well contented be
Their first alms at the door to take ?
Others within that bolder make.
What? Is he not the rock, out of whose side
Those streams of water-blood run forth? The elect and precious corner-stone well tried ?
Though the odds be great between their worth, Rock-water and stone vessels are allied.
But call it what, and place it where you will :
Let it be made indifferently Of any form, or matter; yet, until
The blessed Sacrament thereby Impaired be, my hopes you shall not kill.
To want a complement of comeliness
Some of my comfort may abate,
Yet I will hug mine homely state,
Regeneration is all in all;
Washing, or sprinkling, but the sign,
The one, as well as the other, mine,
If temporal estates may be convey'd,
By covenants on condition,
My soul, to rest upon
Do but thy duty, and rely upon't,
Repentance, faith, obedience,
To an authentic evidence,
HERE my new enter'd soul doth first break fast,
Here seasoneth her infant taste,
With labouring lips and tongue she tugs, For-that sincere milk, which alone doth feed
Babes new-born of immortal seed :
Who, that they may unto perfection grow,
They, that would reading out of Church exclude,
Sure have a purpose to obtrude
Revealed Will, his Word. 'Tis odds,
Who seek the standard to purloin,
What reasonable man would not misdoubt
Those Comments, that the text leave out? And that their main intent is alteration,
Who dote so much on variation, That no set Forms at all they can endure
To be prescribed, or put in ure ? Rejecting bounds and limits is the way, If not all waste, yet common all to lay.
But why should he, that thinks himself well grown,
Be discontent that such a one,
Dandled upon his mother's knee,
More strength and stomach ? Why should not
Let them that would build castles in the air,
Vault thither, without step or stair ; Instead of feet to climb, take wings to fly,
And think their turrets top the sky.
But let me lay all my foundations deep,
And learn, before I run, to creep. Who digs through Rocks to lay his ground-works low, May in good time build high, and sure, though slow.
To take degrees, per saltum, though of quick
Dispatch, is but a truant's trick.
Then syllables, then words to spell ;
In hand to write to other men.
THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER.
WHAT! Prayer by the book ? and Common?
For time and place;
Is all alike to him that prays
They that in private by themselves alone
Do pray, may take
Wherein to make
Their soul's most intimate affections known
To him that sees in secret, when
But he, that unto others leads the way
In public prayer,
They need not fear
Amen; nor doubt they were betray'd
Devotion will add life unto the letter.
And why should not
Advantage got ?
Prayer in the Church's words, as well
THE Bible? That's the Book. The Book indeed,
The Book of Books ;
On which who looks,
Wish for a better light