Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

XIV.

ON HIS

BLINDNESS.

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,

Lodg'd 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."

XV.

ΤΟ

MR. LAWRENCE.

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
From the hard season gaining? Time will run
On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire

The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire

The li ly and rose, that neither sow'd 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 touch'd, 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.

XVI.

ΤΟ

CYRIAC SKINNER.

CYRIAC, whose grandsire, on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounc'd, 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, 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.

XVII.

TO THE SAME.

CYRIACK, 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
Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year,
man, or woman. Yet I argue not
Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot

Or

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 rings from side to side.

This thought might lead me through the world's

vain mask

Content though blind, had I no better guide.

[blocks in formation]

XVIII.

ON HIS

DECEASED WIFE.

METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescu'd from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom wash'd 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 veil'd; yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd So clear, as in no face with more delight But O, as to embrace me she inclin'd,

I wak'd; she fled; and day brought back my night,

« AnteriorContinuar »