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Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again;
Take me to you, imprison me; for I,
Except you' enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Wilt thou love God as he thee ? then digest, My Soul ! this wholesome meditation, How God the Spirit, by angels waited on In heav'n, doth make his temple in thy breast, The Father having begot a Son most blest, And still begetting, (for he ne'er begun) Hath deign’d to chuse thee by adoption, Coheir to' his glory', and Sabbath's endless rest: And as a robb'd man, which by search doth find His stol'n stuff sold, must lose or buy't again; The Son of Glory came down and was slain, Us, whom he 'had made, and Satan stole, t’unbind. 'Twas much that man was made like God before, But that God should be made like man much more. 14
FATHER, part of his double interest
Unio thy kingdom thy Son gives to me;
His jointure, in the knotty Trinity
He keeps, and gives to me his death's conquest.
This Lamb, whose death with life the world hath blest,
Was from the world's beginning slain, and he
Hath made two wills which, with the legacy
Of his and thy kingdom, thy sons invest:
Yet such are these laws, that men argue yet
Whether a man those statutes can fulfill:
None doth; but thy all-healing grace and Spirit
Revive again what law and letter kill.
Thy law's abridgment and thy last command
Is all but love; 0, let this last will stand !
VENGEANCE will sit above our faults; but till
She there to sit
We see her not nor them. Thus blind, yet still
We lead her way; and thus whilst we do ill
We suffer it.
Unhappy he whom youth makes not beware
Of doing ill:
Enough we labour under age and care:
In number th'errors of the last place are
The greatest still.
Yet we, that should the ill we now begin
As soon repent,
(Strange thing !) perceive not; our faults are not seen,
But past us; neither felt, but only in
But we know ourselves least; mere outward shows
Our minds so store,
That our souls, no more than our eyes, disclose
But form and colour: only he who knows
Himself knows more.
The Life of the Author,
Dedication. Addressed to William Lord Craven,
Baron of Hamsted-Marsham,
VERSES TO TIIE AUTHOR.
Hexastichon ad Bibliopolam. Incerti,
To John Donne,
To John Donne,
To the memory of my ever-desired friend, Dr.
In obitum venerabilis viri Jobannes Dunne, Sacræ Theo-
logie Doctoris, Ecclesia Cathedralis, D. Pauli nuper
On the death of Dr. Donne,
An Elegy upon the incomparable Dr. Donne, 78
An Elegy upon Dr. Donne,
Elegy on Dr. Donne,
An Elegy upon the Dean of St. Paul's, Dr. John
Donne, by Mr. Thomas Cary,
An Elegy on Dr. Donne, by Sir Lucius Cary, - - 89
On Dr. John Donne, late Dean of St. Paul's,
On Dr. Donne's death, by Mr. Mayne of Christ-
church in Oxford,