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There doth my soul in holy vision fit
In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatick fit,
Mine, eye hath found that fad Sepulchral rock
That was the Casket of Heav'ns richeft store,
And here though grief my feeble hands up lock,
Yer on the softned Quarry would I score
My plaining verse as lively as before;
For sure so well instructed are my tears,
That they would fitly fall in order'd Chara&ers,
Os nould I thence hurried on viewless wing,
Take up a weeping on the Mountains wild,
The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring
Would foon unborom all their Echoes mild,
And I (for grief is easily beguild)
Might think th'infection of my sorrows loud,
Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant
cloud. This Subject the Author finding to be above the years
he had, when he wrote it, and nothing Satisfy'd pith what was begun, left it unfinisht.
LY envious Time, till thou run out thy race,
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, whose speed is but the heavy Blummets pace; And glüt thy self with what thy womb devours,
Which is no more than what is false and vain,
And meerly mortal dross; < 20 m awa
So little is our loss,
25.63 $151 152 1532 So little is thy gain.
how 9H For when as each thing bad thou hast entombia, And laft of all thy greedy self consum'd, Then long Ecernity shall greet our bliss With an individual kiss; And Joy thall overtake us as a flood, When every ching that is fincerely good, And perfeâly divine, With Truth, and Peace, and Love fall ever thine About the supreme Throne Of him, t'whose happy-making fight alone, When once our Heav'nly-guided Soul Wall climes to I Then all this Earthy grosness quit, Attir'd with Stars, we fall for ever fit,
[Time. i Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, o
Y faming Powers
, and winged Warriours
That erst with Musick, and triumphant Songs
Føft heard by happy watchful Shepherds car,
So sweetly sung your Joy the Clouds along!
Through the soft silence of the lift'onig nighe;
Now mourn, and if sad thare with us to beas
Your fiery effence can distil no fear,
da 2233 W Burn in your sighs, and borrow
soilo je v Seas wept from our deep Corrow,
He who with all Heav'ns heraldry whilear
Enser?d the World, now bleeds to give us eases
Alas, how soon our fin
Sore doth begin
His Infancy to sease!
O more exceeding love of law more juft?
Just law indeed, buť more exceeding love!
For we by righrfal doom remediless
Were loft in death, tili he that dwelt above
High thron'd in secret bliss, for us frait dus
Emptied his glory, ey'n to nakedness;
And that gieat Cov'nant which we still transgress
And the full wrath befide
Of vengefal Justice bore for our excess,
And Teals obedience first with wounding smart
This day, but o ere long
Huge pangs and strong
Will pierce more near his heart.
Left pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'ns joy,
Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice and Verre, Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ Dead things with inbreath'd fenre able to pierce,
And to our high-rais'd phantasie present
That undisturbed Soog of pare content,
Ay sung before the saphire-colour'd throue.
To him that fits thereon
With Saintly shout, and folemn Jubily,
Whore the brighe Seraphim in burning row
Their loud up-lifred Angel trumpets blow,
And the Cherubick host in thousand quires,
Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires,
With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms,
Hymns devote and holy Psalms
Singing everlastingly ;
That we on Earth with. undiscording voice
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportion’d Gn.
Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harfh din
Broke the fair Mufick that all creatures made
To theis great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
In perfeæ Diapason, whilft they stood
In firft obedience, and their state of good.
O may we soon again. renew that Song,
And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long
To his celestial confort us unite,
To live with him, and fing in endless mora of light.
Marchioness of Winchester.
HIS rich Marble dotli enter
The honour'd Wife of Winchester,
A Vicount's daughter, an Earl's heir,
Befdes what her Virtues fair
Added to her noble Birth,
More than the could own from Earth..
Summers three times eight save one
She had told, alas too soon,
After so short time of breath,
To house with darkness, and with death.
Yet had the number of her days
Been as compleat as her praise,
Nature and fate had had no ftrife
In giving limit to her life.
Her bigh birth, and her graces fweet;
Quickly found a lover meet i
The Virgin quire for her request
The God that fits at marriage fealt ;
He at their invoking came,
But with a scarce-well-lighted flame;