The vales redoubled to the hills, and they
To Heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple tyrant; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who having learned thy way Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
WHEN I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide; And that one talent which is death to hide,1 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide; Doth God exact day-labour, light denied, I fondly ask? But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.
LAWRENCE, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won
Roman Catholics, that that Duke thought it necessary to restore all that he had taken from them, and renewed all those privileges they had formerly enjoyed-so great was the terror of his name; nothing being more usual than his saying that his ships in the Mediterranean should visit Civita Vecchia, and the sound of his cannon should be heard in Rome.'-See Echard, vol. 2."
1 An allusion to the parable in Matthew xxv. Son of the president of Cromwell's council.
From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius1 re-inspire
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire
The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air? He who of those delights can judge, and spare To interpose them oft, is not unwise.
TO CYRIAC SKINNER.2
CYRIAC, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws, Which others at their bar so often wrench; To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth, that after no repenting draws; Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause,
And what the Swede intends,3 and what the French." To measure life learn thou betimes, and know Toward solid good what leads the nearest way For other things mild Heaven a time ordains, And disapproves that care, though wise in show, That with superfluous burden loads the day, And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
CYRIAC, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot,
Bereft of light their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear
i. e., Zephyr, the spring western wind.
2 Son of William Skinner, by Bridget, daughter of Lord Coke,and a distinguished member of Harrington's political club.
3 i. e., Charles Gustavus, who was then waging war with Poland.
The French were then at war in the Netherlands.
Of sun, or moon, or star throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not
Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope; but still bear up, and steer Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask? The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied In liberty's defence, my noble task,
Of which all Europe talks from side to side.
This thought might lead me through the world's vain Content, though blind, had I no better guide.
METHOUGHT I Saw my late espouséd saint Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the old law did save;
And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind: Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But oh! as to embrace me she inclined,
I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.
BLESSED is the man who hath not walked astray In council of the wicked, and i' the way
Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat Of scorners hath not sat. But in the great Jehovah's law is ever his delight,
And in his law he studies day and night. He shall be as a tree which planted grows By watery streams, and in his season knows To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall, And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fanned The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand In judgment, or abide their trial then, Nor sinners in the assembly of just men. For the Lord knows the upright way of the just; And the way of bad men to ruin must.
WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations Muse a vain thing, the kings of the earth upstand With power, and princes in their congregations Lay deep their plots together through each land
Against the Lord and his Messiah dear?
Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell And fierce ire trouble them; but I, saith he, Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) On Sion my holy hill. A firm decree
I will declare: the Lord to me hath said, Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee This day; ask of me, and the grant is made As thy possession I on thee bestow
The Heathen, and as thy conquest to be swayed Earth's utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low With iron sceptre bruised, and them disperse Like to a potter's vessel shivered so.
And now be wise at length, ye kings averse; Be taught, ye judges of the earth; with fear Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse With trembling; kiss the Son, lest he appear In anger, and ye perish in the way,
If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere. Happy all those who have in him their stay
When he fled from Absalom.
LORD, how many are my foes!
How many those
That in arms against me rise! Many are they
That of my life distrustfully thus say, No help for him in God there lies. But thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory, Thee through my story
The exalter of my head I count; Aloud I cried
Unto Jehovah, he full soon replied,
And heard me from his holy mount.
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