Joy of a soul's arrival ne'er decays;
For that soul ever joys and ever stays.
Joy that their last great consummation
Approaches in the resurrection;

When earthly bodies more celestial

Shall be than angels were, for they could fall:
This kind of joy doth every day admit
Degrees of growth, but none of losing it.
In this fresh joy, 'tis no small part that she,
She, in whose goodness he that names degree
Doth injure her; ('tis loss to be called best,
There where the stuff is not such as the rest;)
She, who left such a body as even she
Only in heaven could learn how it can be
Made better, for she rather was two souls,
Or like to full on-both-sides-written rolls;
Where eyes might read upon the outward skin,
As strong records for God as minds within;-
She, who by making full perfection grow,
Pieces a circle, and still keeps it so ;—

Longed for, and longing for it, to heaven is gone, Where she receives, and gives addition.

HYMN TO CHRIST, AT THE AUTHOR'S LAST GOING INTO GERMANY.

IN what torn ship soever I embark,

That ship shall be my emblem of thy ark;
What sea soever swallow me, that flood

Shall be to me an emblem of thy blood;
Though thou with clouds of anger do disguise
Thy face, yet through that mask I know those eyes,
Which, though they turn away sometimes,
They never will despise.

I sacrifice this island unto thee,

And all whom I loved there, and who loved me;
When I have put our seas 'twixt them and me,
Put thou thy seas betwixt my sins and thee.
As the tree's sap doth seek the root below
In winter, in winter now I go

my

Where none but thee, the eternal root
Of true love, I may know.

Nor thou nor thy religion dost control,
The amorousness of an harmonious soul;
But thou wouldst have that love thyself: as thou
Art jealous, Lord, so I am jealous now;
Thou lov'st not, till from loving more, thou free
My soul whoever gives, takes liberty:

O, if thou car'st not whom I love,
Alas, thou lov'st not me.

Seal then this bill of my divorce to all
On whom those fainter beams of love did fall;
Marry those loves, which in youth scattered be
On fame, wit, hopes, (false mistresses,) to thee.
Churches are best for prayer that have least light:
To see God only, I go out of sight;

And to scape stormy days, I choose
An everlasting night.

JONSON.

BORN 1574; DIED 1637.

BENJAMIN (or, as he was styled in the affectionate familiarity of his time, which succeeding ages have made venerable-BEN) JONSON, by a rare union of learning and genius, obtained for himself a kind of literary sovereignty among his contemporaries; and his name, as a dramatic author, has come down to posterity surrounded by a splendour second only to the unrivalled glory of Shakspeare. In his earlier years he had to struggle with severe difficulties, which, while they lasted, were the means of developing the robust independence of his character; and served, when surmounted, as foils to the brilliance of his subsequent triumphs. In the lyrics and lighter pieces of this poet there reigns a playfulness of fancy, chastened by solid sense, and dignified by touches of pure feeling, not the less interesting because contrasting strongly with the masculine labours of the intellect which gave birth to "The Fox," "The Alchymist," "Cataline," and "Sejanus." The subjoined pieces prove that Jonson's powers did not desert him, when, for a season-like all the poets of his time,-too briefly and too rarely, he exchanged the service of the profaner muse for that of religion.

JONSON.

HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER.

HEAR me, O God!
A broken heart
Is my best part :
Use still thy rod,
That I may prove
Therein thy love.

If thou hadst not

Been stern to me,
But left me free,
I had forgot
Myself and thee.

For, sin's so sweet,
As minds ill bent

Rarely repent,
Until they meet

Their punishment.

Who more can crave

Than thou hast done?

G