90

Run themselves out of breath

To overtake it.
Hell is not had for naught,
Damnation's dearly bought,
And with great labour sought;

They'll not forsake it.
Their souls are Satan's fee-

He'll not abate it ;
Grace is refused that's free,

Mad sinners hate it.

95

100

105

Is this the world men choose,
For which they heaven refuse,
And Christ and grace abuse,

And not receive it?
Shall I not guilty be
Of this in some degree,
If hence God would me free,

And I'd not leave it ;
My soul, from Sodom fly,

Lest wrath there find thee; Thy refuge-rest is nigh;

Look not behind thee!
There's none of this ado,
None of the hellish crew;
God's promise is most true,

Boldly believe it.
My friends are gone before,
And I am near the shore;
My soul stands at the door,

O Lord, receive it!
It trusts Christ and his merits,

The dead He raises ;
Join it with blessed spirits,
Who sing thy praises.

Richard Baxter.

IIO

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120

CXXXIII

HYMN FOR ADVENT; OR CHRIST”S COMING TO

JERUSALEM IN TRIUMPH.
Lord, come away,

Why dost Thou stay?
Thy road is ready: and thy paths, made strait,

With longing expectation wait
The consecration of thy beauteous feet.

5
Ride on triumphantly ; behold we lay
Our lusts and proud wills in thy way.
Hosanna! welcome to our hearts.

Lord, here
Thou hast a temple too, and full as dear
As that of Sion; and as full of sin;
Nothing but thieves and robbers dwell therein,
Enter, and chase them forth, and cleanse the floor ;
Crucify them, that they may never more

Profane that holy place,

Where Thou hast chose to set thy face.
And then if our stiff tongues shall be
Mute in the praises of thy Deity,

The stones out of the temple wall

Shall cry aloud, and call
Hosanna! and thy glorious footsteps greet.

Jeremy Taylor.

15

20

CXXXIV

BEYOND THE VEIL.

They are all gone into the world of light,

And I alone sit lingering here; Their very memory is fair and bright,

And my sad thoughts doth clear.
It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast,

Like stars upon some gloomy grove,
Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest,

After the sun's remove.

5

IO

I see them walking in an air of glory,

Whose light doth trample on my days;
My days, which are at best but dull and hoary,

Mere glimmering and decays.
O holy Hope! and high Humility!

High as the heavens above!
These are your walks, and you have showed them me

To kindle my cold love.
Dear, beauteous death; the jewel of the just,

Shining nowhere but in the dark;
What.mysteries do lie beyond thy dust,

Could man outlook that mark!

15

20

30

He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know,

At first sight, if the bird be flown;
But what fair dell or grove he sings in now,
That is to him unknown.

25 And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams

Call to the soul when man doth sleep,
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes,

And into glory peep.
If a star were confined into a tomb,

Her captive flames must needs burn there;
But when the hand that locked her up gives room,

She'll shine through all the sphere.
O Father of eternal life, and all
Created glories under Thee,

35 Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall

Into true liberty.
Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill

My perspective still as they pass ;
Or else remove me hence unto that hill,

40 Where I shall need no glass.

Henry Vaughan.

PART THE THIRD.

CXXXV

ODE ON SOLITUDE.

Happy the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air,

In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,

Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

In winter fire.

5

IO

Blest, who can unconcern’dly find

Hours, days, and years slide soft away, In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day, Sound sleep by night ; study and ease,

Together mixed ; sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please

15 With meditation. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown ;

Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie.

Alexander Pope.

20

CXXXVI

STELLA'S BIRTHDAY. 1720.

All travellers at first incline
Where'er they see the fairest sign;
And, if they find the chambers neat,
And like the liquor and the meat,

Will call again, and recommend
The Angel-inn to every friend.
What though the painting grows decayed,
The house will never lose its trade:
Nay, though the treacherous tapster Thomas
Hangs a new Angel two docrs from us,
As fine as daubers' hands can make it,
In hopes that strangers may mistake it,
We think it both a shame and sin
To quit the true old Angel-inn.

Now this is Stella's case in fact,
An angel's face a little cracked :
(Could poets or could painters fix
How angels look at thirty-six:)
This drew us in at first to find
In such a form an angel's mind;
And every virtue now supplies
The fainting rays of Stella's eyes.
See at her levee crowding swains,
Whom Stella freely entertains
With breeding, humour, wit, and sense;
And puts them but to small expense;
Their mind so plentifully fills,
And makes such reasonable bills,
So little gets for what she gives,
We really wonder how she lives;
And, had her stock been less, no doubt
She must have long ago run out.

Then who can think we'll quit the place,
When Doll hangs out a newer face ?
Or stop and light at Chloe's head,
With scraps and leavings to be fed ?

Then, Chloe, still go on to prate
Of thirty-six and thirty-eight;
Pursue your trade of scandal-picking,
Your hints that Stella is no chicken ;

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30

35

40

M