FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, But you may stay yet here awhile, What were ye born to be An hour or half's delight, But you are lovely leaves, where we TO KEEP A TRUE LENT. Is this a fast, to keep The larder lean, And clean From fat of veals and sheep? Is it to quit the dish Of flesh, yet still The platter high with fish? Is it to fast an hour, Or rag'd to go, Or show A downcast look, and sour? GEORGE HERBERT. Who would have thought my shrivelled heart Could have recovered greenness? It was gone Quite under ground; as flowers depart To see their mother-root, when they have blown ; Where they together, All the hard weather, So strength first made a way; Dead to the world, keep house un- Then beauty flowed; then wisdom, honor, known. pleasure: When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that alone, of all his treasure, Rest in the bottom lay. "For if I should," said he, "Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore my gifts instead of me, And rest in nature, not the God of nature; So both should losers be. "Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness: Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast." HENRY VAUGHAN. [1614-1695.] THE BIRD. HITHER thou com'st. The busy wind all night Blew through thy lodging, where thy own warm wing Thy pillow was. Many a sullen storm, For which coarse man seems much the fitter born, Rained on thy bed And now, as fresh and cheerful as the light, Thy little heart in early hymns doth sing Unto that Providence whose unseen arm Curbed them, and clothed thee well and warm. All things that be praise Him; and had Their lesson taught them when first made. So hills and valleys into singing break; And though poor stones have neither speech nor tongue, While active winds and streams both run | These are your walks, and you have 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, Mere glimmering and decays. O holy hope and high humility, - showed them me 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! For sure if others knew me such, I should have been dispraised as much The praise, therefore, which I have heard, So I were blameless made, Though slanders to an innocent And when a virtuous man hath erred, Lord! therefore make my heart upright, Let thankfulness be found in me, By her help I also now Make this churlish place allow ness, In the very gall of sadness. thee; Though thou be to them a scorn, That to naught but earth are born, – Let my life no longer be Than I am in love with thee! COMPANIONSHIP OF THE MUSE. SHE doth tell me where to borrow ANDREW MARVELL. [1620-1678.] THOUGHTS IN A GARDEN. How vainly men themselves amaze, tree, Whose short and narrow-vergéd shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all the flowers and trees do close, To weave the garlands of repose. Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, |