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Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer
The conscience, Friend, t have lost them over ply'd 10
In liberty's defence, my poble task, Of which all Europe rings from side to side. This thonght might lead me through the world's vain
mask, Content though blind, had I no better guide,
ON HIS DECEASED WIFE.
Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave,
Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint.
Purification in the old law did save, And such as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heav'n 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
But O, as to embrace me she inclin'd,
Done into verse, 1653.
Done Aug. 8, 1653. Terzetti, WHY.do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations
Muse a vain thing, the kings of th' earth upstand
With pow'r, and princes in their congregations Lay deep their plots together through each land
Against the Lord and his Messiah dear?
Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,
Their twisted cords : He who in Heav'n doth dwell
Shall laugh ; the Lord shall scoff them; then, severe, Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell
And fierce ire trouble them; but I, saith he, Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) Ou Sion my holy' hill. A firm decree
I will declare : the Lord to me hath said,
Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee This day; ask of me, and the grant is made;
As thy possession I on thee hestow
Th' heathen; and, as thy conquest to be sway'd, Earth's utmost bounds : them shalt thou bring full low
With iron sceptre bruis'd, and them disperse
Like to a potter’s vessel shiver'd so.
and let your joy converse With trembling ; kiss the Son lest he appear
In anger, and ye perish in the way,
If once his wrath take fire, like fuel sere. Happy all those who have in him their stay!
August 9, 1653.
When he fled from Absatorna
How many those
Many are they
That of my life distrustfully thus say ;
Thee, through my story,
Aloud I cry'd
For my sustain
The populous rout
Hast smote ere now
Of men abhorr'd
August, 10, 1653.
Now pity me, and hear my earnest pray?r..
How long be thus forborne
Things false and vain, and nothing else but lies ?
Will hear my voice, what time to him I cry.
peace within. Offer the offerings just
Of righteousness, and in Jehovah trusé.
Lift up the favour of thy count'nance bright.
With vast increase their corn and wine abounds.