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A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way
Early may fly the Babylonian woe.

XIX.
On his blindness.

When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent

which is death to hide,
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present

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My true account, left he returning chide;
Doth God exact day-labor, light deny'd,

I fondly ask : But patience to prevent
That murmur foon replies, God doth not need

Either man's work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him beft: his state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,

And port o'er land and ocean without reft;
They also serve,who only stand and wait.

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XX.
To Mr. LAWRENCE *.

Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son,

Now, that the fields are dank, and ways are mire,
Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire

Help waste a fullen day, what may be won
From the hard season gaining ? time will run

On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire
The lilly' and rose, that neither fow'd nor spun,

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* This Mr. Lawrence was the son of the President of Crom. well's council.

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What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,

Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise

To hear the lute well touch'd, or artful voice
Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air ?

He,who of those delights can judge, and spare
To interpose them oft, is not unwise.

XXI.
To CYRIAC SKINNER *.
Cyriac, whose grandfire on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounc'd and in his volumes taught our laws,

Which others at their bar so often wrench;
To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench

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In mirth, that after no repenting draws;
Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,

And what the Swede intends, and what the French. To measure life learn thou betimes, and know

Toward solid good what leads the nearest way ;

For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains,
And disapproves that care, tho' wife in show,

That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And when God sends a chearsul hour, refrains.

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XXII.
To the same.

Cyriac, this three years' day these eyes, tho' clear,

To outward view, of blemish or of spot,

*

Cyriac Skinner was the son of William Skinner, Esq; and grandson of Sir Vincent Skinner, and his mother was daughter of the famous Lord Chief Justice Coke. Mr. Wood relates, that he was one of Harrington's political club, and sometimes held the chair; and farther adds, that he was a merchant's son of London, an ingenious young gentleman and scholar to John Milton,

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Bereft of light their seeing have forgot,

Nor to their idle orbs doth fight appear
Of sun, or moon, or star throughout the year, 5

Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not
Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot

Of heart or hope ; but still bear up, and steer
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?

The conscience, Friend, to' have lost them overply'd 10

In liberty's defense, my noble task,
Of which all Europe talks from side to side.

(mark This thought might lead me through the world's vain

Content, tho' blind, had I no better guide. επεθαι τω θεο.

XXIII.

On his deceased Wife ..
Methought I faw my late espoused saint

Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
Whom Jove's great fon to her glad husband gave,

Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint.
Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint 5

Purification in the old Law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have

Full fight of her in Heav'n without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind :

Her face was veild, yet to my fancied fight

Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd
So clear, 'as in no face with more delight.

But O as to embrace me the inclin'd,
I wak'd, the Aed, and day brought back my night.

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* This was his second wife, Katharine the daughter of Capt. Woodcock of Hackney, who lived with him not above a year after their marriage, and died in childbed of a daughten.

PSA L M S. AL

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PSALM I. Done into verse, 1653.

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Less'd is the man, who hath not walk'd astray

In counsel of the wicked, and i'th' way Of finners hath not stood, and in the feat Of scorners hath not fat. But in the great Jehovah's law is ever his delight,

5 And in his law he studies day and night. He shall be as a tree,which planted grows By watry streams, and in his season knows To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall, And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 10 Not so the wicked, but as chaff, which fann'd The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand In judgment, or abide their trial then, Nor finners in th' assembly of juft men.

For the Lord knows the upright way of the juft, 15 And the way of bad men to ruin must.

Psal. II. done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzette.

W Marea vain thing,

the kings of th' earth upstand

HY do the nations

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With pow'r, and princes in their congregations
Lay deep their plots together thro' each land

Against the Lord and his Messiah dear?
Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand

M

5 IO

Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,

Their twisted cords: Hegwho in Heav'n doth dwell,

Shall laugh, the Lord shall fcoff 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)
On Sion my holy' hill. A firm decree

I will declare; the Lord to me hath faid
Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee

15 This day; ask of me, and the grant is made ;

As thy possession I on thee bestow

Th’ Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd Earth's utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low

With iron scepter bruis'd, and them disperse

Like to a potter's vessel shiver'd so.
And now be wise at lengthgye Kings averse,

Be taught,ye Judges of the earth; with fear

Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse With trembling; kiss the Son,left he appear 25

In anger, and ye perish in the way,

If once his wrath take fire like fuel fere, Happy all those who have in him their stay.

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Psal. III. Aug. 9. 1653. When he fled from

Abfalom.

Lo

ORD, how many are my foes !

How many those,
That in arms against me rise !

Many are they,
That of my life diftruftfully thus say,
No help for him in God there lies.

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