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(From the same)
I struck the board, and cry'd, ‘No more;
I will abroad.'
Shall I be still in suit?
To let me bloud and not restore
Sure there was wine,
Before my tears did drown it;
Have I no bayes to crown it,
All wasted ?
And thou hast hands.
Thy rope of sands
And be thy law,
Away! take heed;
I will abroad.
He that forbears
Deserves his load.
But as I raved and grew more fierce and wilde
At every word,
And I reply'd, ‘My Lord.'
(From Silex Scintillans, Part I., 1650)
Happy those early dayes, when I
O how I long to travell back,
From whence th' inlightened spirit sees
They are all gone into the world of light!
And I alone sit ling'ring here! Their very memory is fair and bright,
And my sad thoughts doth clear.
It glows and glitters in my cloudy brest
Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest
After the Sun's remove.
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,
Meer glimmerings and decays.
O holy Hope! and high Humility!
High as the Heavens above; These are your walks, and you have shew'd them
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!
He that hath found some fledg’d bird's nest may
That is to him unknown.
Call to the soul when man doth sleep,
theams And into glory peep. If a star were confin'd into a tomb,
Her captive flames must needs burn there; But when the hand that lockt her up gives room,
She'll shine through all the sphere.
O Father of eternal life, and all
Created glories under thee!
Into true liberty!
My perspective still as they pass;
THE AUTHOR'S RESOLUTION IN A SONNET
(From Fidelia, 1615)
Shall I, wasting in despaire
Be she fairer than the Day
Shall my seely heart be pin'd
Be she Meeker, Kinder than
Shall a woman's Vertues move
Be she with that Goodness blest
Cause her Fortune seems too high
Great, or Good, or Kind, or Faire