AFFLICTION. BROKEN in pieces all asunder, Once a poor creature, now a wonder, My thoughts are all a case of knives, With scatter'd smart ; As watering-pots give flowers their lives. While they do wound and prick my soul. All my attendants are at strife, Unto my face: Nothing performs the task of life: The elements are let loose to fight, Oh, help, my God! let not their plot And also thee, Who art my life: dissolve the knot, As the sun scatters by his light Then shall those powers, which work for grief, Enter thy pay, And day by day 4 Labour thy praise and my relief; With care and courage building me, Till I reach heaven, and much more, thee. MAN. My God, I heard this day, That none doth build a stately habitation What house more stately hath there been, For Man is every thing, And more He is a tree, yet bears no fruit ; Parrots may thank us, if they are not mute, Man is all symmetry, Full of proportions, one limb to another, Nothing hath got so far, But Man hath caught and kept it, as his prey His eyes dismount the highest star He is in little all the sphere. Herbs gladly cure our flesh, because that they Find their acquaintance there. For us the winds do blow; The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow. As our delight, or as our treasure: The stars have us to bed; Night draws the curtain, which the Sun withdraws : Music and light attend our head. All things unto our flesh are kind Each thing is full of duty: Waters united, are our navigation; Distinguished,1 our habitation; Below, our drink; above, our meat: Both are our cleanliness. Hath one such beauty? Then how are all things neat! More servants wait on Man, Than he'll take notice of: in every path He treads down that which doth befriend him, Since then, my God, thou hast So brave a Palace built; O dwell in it, That, as the world serves us, we may serve thee, 1 'Distinguished,' i. e., when marked by an island. ANTIPHON. CHOR. PRAISED be the God of love, ANGELS. And here above: CHOR. Who hath dealt his mercies so, MEN. And to his foe; CHOR. That both grace and glory tend MEN. And us in the end. CHOR. The great Shepherd of the fold MEN. For us was sold. CHOR. He our foes in pieces brake : MEN. And him we take. CHOR. Wherefore since that he is such, ANG. We adore, MEN. And we do crouch. CHOR. Lord, thy praises shall be more. MEN. We have none, ANG. And we no store. CHOR. Praised be the God alone Who hath made of two folds one. UNKINDNESS. LORD, make me coy and tender to offend: Unto my friend's intent and end. If any touch my friend, or his good name, It is my honour and my love to free His blasted fame From the least spot or thought of blame. I could not use a friend, as I use Thee. My friend may spit upon my curious floor: And thou within them, starve at door. I cannot use a friend, as I use Thee. When that my friend pretendeth to a place, I quit my interest, and leave it free: But when thy grace Sues for my heart, I thee displace; Nor would I use a friend, as I use Thee. Yet can a friend what Thou hast done fulfil ? O write in brass, My God upon a tree His blood did spill, Only to purchase my good-will: Yet use I not my foes, as I use Thee. |