Precious for any grief in any part, To clear the breast, to mollify all pain.

Thou art all health, health thriving till it make
A full eternity: thou art a mass

Of strange delights, where we may wish and take.

Ladies, look here; this is the thankful glass

That mends the looker's eyes: this is the well

That washes what it shows. Who can endear Thy praise too much? thou art heaven's lieger here,

Working against the states of death and hell.

Thou art joy's handsel: heaven lies flat in thee, Subject to every mounter's bended knee.

II.

Oh that I knew how all thy lights combine,
And the configurations of their glory!
Seeing not only how each verse doth shine,
But all the constellations of the story.

This verse marks that, and both do make a motion

Unto a third, that ten leaves off doth lie. Then, as dispersed herbs do watch a potion, These three make up some Christian's destiny.

Such are thy secrets, which my life makes good,
And comments on thee: for in ev'ry thing
Thy words do find me out, and parallels bring,
And in another make me understood.

R

Stars are poor books, and oftentimes do miss : This book of stars lights to eternal bliss.

GRACE.

My stock lies dead, and no increase
Doth my dull husbandry improve :
O let thy graces without cease

Drop from above.

If still the sun should hide his face,
Thy house would but a dungeon prove;
Thy works, night's captives: O let grace
Drop from above.

The dew doth ev'ry morning fall:
And shall the dew outstrip thy Dove?
The dew, for which grass cannot call,
Drop from above?

Death is still working like a mole,
And digs my grave at each remove:
Let grace work too, and on my soul
Drop from above.

Sin is still hammering my heart,
Unto a hardness void of love:

Let suppling grace to cross his art,
Drop from above.

O come! for thou dost know the way :
Or if to me thou wilt not move,

Remove me where I need not say,

'Drop from above.'

CHURCH MUSIC.

SWEETEST of sweets, I thank you; when displeasure

Did through my body wound my mind, You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure A dainty lodging me assign'd.

Now I in you without a body move,
Rising and falling with your wings:
We both together sweetly live and love,
Yet say sometimes, God help poor kings!'

Comfort, I'll die; for if you post from me,
Sure I shall do so, and much more:

But if I travel in your company,

You know the way to Heaven's door.

THE WINDOWS.

LORD, how can man preach thy eternal Word?
He is a brittle crazy glass:

Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford,
This glorious and transcendent place,
To be a window, through thy grace.

But when thou dost anneal in glass thy story,
Making thy life to shine within
The holy preachers; then the light and glory
More rev'rend grows, and more doth win,—
Which else shows wat'rish, bleak, and thin.

Doctrine and life, colours and light, in one
When they combine and mingle, bring
A strong regard and awe: but speech alone
Doth vanish like a flaring thing,
And in the ear, not conscience, ring.

CONSTANCY.

WHO is the honest man ?-
He that doth still, and strongly, good pursue,
To God, his neighbour, and himself most true:
Whom neither force nor fawning can
Unpin, or wrench from giving all their due :

Whose honesty is not

So loose or easy, that a ruffling wind
Can blow away, or glitt'ring look it blind:
Who rides his sure and even trot,

While the world now rides by, now lags behind :

Who, when great trials come,

Nor seeks, nor shuns them; but doth calmly stay, Till he the thing and the example weigh:

All being brought into a sum,

What place or person calls for, he doth pay :

Whom none can work, or woo,

To use in any thing a trick or slight;
For above all things he abhors deceit ;

His words and works, and fashion too,
All of a piece, and all are clear and straight:

Who never melts or thaws

At close temptations: when the day is done,
His goodness sets not, but in dark can run:
The sun to others writeth laws,

And is their virtue-Virtue is his sun:

Who, when he is to treat

With sick folks, women, those whom passions sway, Allows for that, and keeps his constant way: Whom others' faults do not defeat;

But though men fail him, yet his part doth play:

Whom nothing can procure,

When the wide world runs bias, from his will
To writhe his limbs, and share, not mend the ill.-
This is the mark-man, safe and sure,
Who still is right, and prays to be so still.

AFFLICTION.

My heart did heave, and there came forth, ‘O God!'
By that I knew that thou wast in the grief,
To guide and govern it to my relief,

Making a sceptre of the rod :

Hadst thou not had thy part,

Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart.

But since thy breath gave me both life and shape,
Thou know'st my tallies; and when there's assign'd
So much breath to a sigh, what's then behind?
Or if some years with it escape,

The sigh then only is

A gale to bring me sooner to my bliss.