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Sometimes Death, puffing at the door,
Blows all the dust about the floor:
But while he thinks to spoil the room, he sweeps.
Blest be the Architect, whose art
LORD, how can man preach thy eternal word?
Yet in thy Temple thou dost him afford
This glorious and transcendent place,
But when thou dost anneal in glass thy story,
The holy Preachers, then the light and glory
More reverend grows, and more doth win;
Doctrine and life, colours and light, in one
When they combine and mingle, bring
LORD, who hast form'd me out of mud,
Purge all my sins done heretofore;
my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charity; That I may run, rise, rest with thee.
PEACE, muttering thoughts, and do not grudge to keep
Gad not abroad at every quest and call
Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie,
Give me the pliant mind, whose gentle measure
Which can let loose to a crown, and yet with pleasure
This soul doth span the world, and hang content
Where in each room of the well-furnish'd tent
The brags of life are but a nine days' wonder :
From private bodies, make as big a thunder
Only thy Chronicle is lost and yet
Better by worms be all once spent,
When all thy deeds, whose brunt thou feel'st alone, Are chaw'd by others' pens and tongue,
And as their wit is, their digestion,
Thy nourish'd fame is weak or strong.
Then cease discoursing, soul, till thine own ground;
He that by seeking hath himself once found,
My God, a verse is not a crown;
It cannot vault, or dance, or play;
It is no office, art, or news;
I SAW the Virtues sitting hand in hand
Where all the beasts and fowls, by their command,
Humility, who sat the lowest there
To execute their call,
When by the beasts the presents tender'd were,
The angry Lion did
Gave them about to all.
present his paw,
Which by consent was given to Mansuetude.
The jealous Turkey brought his coral chain,
That went to Temperance.
On Justice was bestow'd the Fox's brain,
Kill'd in the way by chance.
At length the Crow, bringing the Peacock's plume (For he would not), as they beheld the grace
Of that brave gift, each one began to fume,
Till they fell out;
which when the beasts espied, They leapt upon the throne;
And if the Fox had lived to rule their side,
They had deposed each one.
Humility, who held the plume, at this
Did weep so fast, that the tears trickling down.
For which ye wrangle, made them turn their frown
They drive them soon away;
And then amerced them, double gifts to bring
LORD, in my silence how do I despise
Is styled honour, riches, or fair eyes;
I surname them gilded clay,
In all, I think my foot doth ever tread
But when I view abroad both Regiments,
The world's, and thine;
Thine clad with simpleness, and sad events;
Full of glory and gay weeds,
Brave language, braver deeds:
That which was dust before, doth quickly rise,
And prick mine eyes.
O brook not this, lest if what even now
My foot did tread,