This day my Saviour rose, And did enclose this light for his: Who want herbs for their wound. The reft of our creation Our great Redeemer did remove Christ's hands, though nail'd, wrought our salvation, And did unhinge that day. The brightness of that day We fullied by our foul offence: Wherefore that robe we caft away, Having a new at his expence, Whofe drops of blood paid the full price, Thou art a day of mirth : And where the week-days trail on ground, O let me take thee at the bound, Leaping with thee from fev'n to fev'n, Avarice. [ONEY, thou bane of blifs, and fource of woe, I know thy parentage is base and low: Man found thee poor and dirty in a mine. Surely thou didst fo little contribute and (fine? To this great kingdom, which thou now haft got, That he was fain, when thou wast destitute, To dig thee out of thy dark cave and grot. Then forcing thee, by fire he made thee bright: Ana- {MRMY } gram. HOW well her name an Army doth prefent, In whom the Lord of Hofts did pitch his tent. To all Angels and Saints. Oglorious cof God, without a frown, H glorious fpirits, who after all your bands, Or ftrict commands: Where ev'ry one is king, and hath his crown, Not out of envy or maliciousness My vows to thee moft gladly, blessed maid, Thou art the holy mine, whence came the gold, In young and old; Thou art the cabinet where the jewel lay: And where his pleasure no injunction lays, Therefore we dare not from his garland steal Although then others court you, if ye know Since we are ever ready to difburfe, If any one our Mafter's hand can how. Employment. HE that is weary, let him fit; My foul would stir And trade in courtefies and wit, Quitting the fur, The cold complexions needing it. Man is no ftar, but a quick coal Who blows it not, nor doth control Lets his own afhes choke his foul. When th' elements did for place conteft Ordain'd the highest to be beft, The earth fat ftill, And by the others is oppreft. Life is a business, not good cheer; The fun ftill fhineth there or here, Whereas the stars Watch an advantage to appear. Oh that I were an orange-tree, That bufy plant! Then should I ever laden be, And never want Some fruit for him that dreffeth me. But we are ftill too young or old; The man is gone Before we do our wares unfold: So we freeze on, Until the grave increase our cold. Denial. WHEN my devotions could not pierce. Thy, filent ears; Then was my heart broken, as was my verfe; My breaft was full of fears And diforder. My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow, Each took his way: fome would to pleasure go, As good go any where, fay they, Both knees and heart, in crying, night and day, O that thou shouldst give dust a tongue And then not hear it crying! all day long Therefore my foul lay out of fight, O cheer and tune my heartless breaft, That fo thy favours granting my request, Christmas. LL after pleasures, as I rid one day, A My horfe and I both tir'd, body and mind, With full cry of affections quite aftray, I took up in the next inn I could find. |