If thou hadst lost a glove or ring, What do I see Written above there ? "Yesterday I did behave me carelessly, When I did pray." And should God's ear To such indifferents chained be, But stay! what's there? "Late, when I would have something done, I had a motion to forbear; Yet I went on." And should God's ear, Which needs not man, be tied to those Then once more pray; Down with thy knees, up with thy voice: "Glad heart, rejoice!" DIVINITY. As men for fear the stars should sleep and nod, Which knows his way without a guide: Just so the other heav'n they also serve, Which with the edge of wit they cut and carve. Could not that wisdom, which first broach'd the wine, Have thicken'd it with definitions? And jagg'd his seamless coat, had that been fine, But all the doctrine which he taught and gave, 'Love God, and love your neighbour;' Watch and pray;' 'Do as you would be done unto :' O dark instructions, ev'n as dark as day! But he doth bid us take his blood for wine. Then burn thy epicycles, foolish man; Break all thy spheres, and save thy head. Faith needs no staff of flesh, but stoutly can To heav'n alone both go and lead. JUSTICE. O DREADFUL Justice, what a fright and terror, When sin and error Did show and shape thy looks to me, The dishes of thy balance seem'd to gape, The beam and scape Did like some tort'ring engine show: Thy hand above did burn and glow, Daunting the stoutest hearts, the proudest wits. But now that Christ's pure veil presents the sight, I see no fears: Thy hand is white, Thy scales like buckets, which attend Lifting to heaven from this well of tears. For where before thou didst call on me, And harp on thee. God's promises have made thee mine: Why should I justice now decline? Against me there is none, but for me much. THE PILGRIMAGE. I TRAVEL on, seeing the hill, where lay A long it was and weary way. The gloomy cave of Desperation I left on th' one, and on the other side The rock of pride. And so I came to Fancy's meadow, strow'd Fain would I here have made abode, But I was quicken'd by my hour. So to Care's copse I came, and there got through With much ado. That led me to the wild of Passion; which A wasted place, but sometimes rich. At length I got unto the gladsome hill, Where lay my heart; and climbing still, With that abash'd, and struck with many a sting, Of swarming fears, I fell, and cried, "Alas, my King! Can both the way and end be tears ?" Yet taking heart, I rose, and then perceiv'd I was deceived. My hill was farther; so I slunk away; Just as I went, "None goes that way THE HOLD-FAST. I THREATENED to observe the sweet decree 'Then will I trust,' said I,' in him alone.' But to have nought is ours; not, to confess That we have nought. I stood amaz'd at this, Much troubled; till I heard a friend express, That all things were more ours by being his. What Adam had, and forfeited for all, Christ keepeth now who cannot fail or fall. LONGING. WITH sick and famish'd eyes, With doubling knees, and weary bones, To thee my cries, |