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To the Author.


comprehend, Verfe, Matter, Order, Fitie, Spirit, Wit; For these also our Church-Poet doth intend, And he who hath his imitation Writ.

O Glory of the Time ! best English Singer, Happy both he the Hand, and thou the Finger.

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D'C cujus Templum ? Chrifti

. Quis condidit? Ede.. Condidit Herbertus. Dic, quibus auxiliis ? Auxiliis multis ; quibus, haud mihi dicere fas eft.

Tanta est ex diétis lis oriunda meis,
Gratia, fi dicam, dedit omnia; protinus obftat

Ingenium, dicens, cun&ta fuise fua.
Ars negat, & nihil eft noir noftrum dicit in illo ;

facile eft litem compofuiffe mihi. Divide ; Materiam det gratia, materiæq;

Ingenium cultus induat, arsq; modos.
Non, ne displiceat pariter res omnibus ifta,

Neç fortita velint jura uocare fua.
Nempe pari fibi jure petunt, cultufque, modefque,

Materiamque, ars, & gratia, & ingenium.
Ergo, velit fi quis dubitantem tollera elenchum,

De Templo Herberti talia di&ta dabit,
In Templo Herbertus condendo eft gratia totus,

Ars pariter totus,. totus & ingenium.
Cedite Romanæ, Graiia, quiq; cedite, mufæ :

Unum par cun&tis. Anglia jattat opus.


A stepping Stone to the Threshold of

Mr. Herbert's Church-Porch.


HAT Church is this ? Chrift's Church. Who

builded it?
Mr. George Herbert. Who affifted it ?
Many affifted : who I may not say,
So much contention might arise that way.
If I say Grace gave all ; Wit straight doth thwart,
And says, All that is there is mine : but Art,
Denies, and says, There's nothing there but's mine:
Nor can I easily the right define.
Divide ; fay, Grace the matter gave, and Wit
Did polish it: Art measur'd, and made fit
Each sev'ral piece, and fram'd it altogether.
Nay, by no means : this may not please them neither,
None's well contented with a part alone,
When each doth challenge all to be his own.
The matter, the expressions, and the measures,
Are equally Art's, Wit's, and Grace's treasures.
Then he that would impartially discuss
This doubtful question, must answer thus :
In building of his Temple, Mafter Herbert
Is equally all Grace, all Wit, all Art.

Roman and Grecian muses all give way:
One English poem darkens all your day.


The Dedication.

ORD, my first-fruits should have been sent to thee,

For thou thee tree,
That bare them, only lenteft unto me.

But while I had the use, the fruit was mine :

Not so divine,
As that I dare presume to call it thine.

Before 'twas ripe it fell unto the ground :

And since I found
It bruised in the dirt, nor clean, nor sound.

Some I have pick'd, and wip'd, and bring thee now,

Lord, thou know'ft how ; Gladly I would, but dare not it avow.

Such as it is, 'tis here. Pardon the beft,

Accept the rest.
Thy pardon and acceptance maketh bleft.

The Church-Yard.

THow that intendeft to the Church to-day,


Come take a turn or two, before thou go'ft,
In the Church-yard ; the walk is in the way.
Who takes beft heed in going, halteth/ moito

But he that unprepared rafhly ventures
Haftens perhaps to feal his death's indontures,

The Church Stile.

EEST thou that Stile ?, Observe then how it rises,

Step after step, and equally descends: /
Such is the way to wią celestial prizesio
Humility the course begins and ends.

Would'st thou in grace to.
Shoot thy' roots

thy foundations low.

dtëp, ground perfections grow?

Humble thyself, and God will lift thee up:
Those that exalt themselves he casteth down:
The hungry he invites with him to sup,
And clothes the naked with his robe and crown,

Think not thou haftowhar thou from his would he have :
His labour's loft if thou thyself can't save.

Pride is the prodigality of grace,
Which cafteth all away by griping all :
Humility is thrift, both keeps his place,
And gains by giving, riseth by its fall.

To get by giving, and to lose by keeping,
Is to be fad in mirth, and glad in weeping.

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