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In all her equipage: befides to know

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Both fpiritual pow'r and civil, what each means,
What fevers each, thou haft learn'd, which few have done:

The bounds of either fword to thee we owe :

Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans
In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son.

XVIII.

On the late maffacre in Piemont *.

Avenge, O Lord, thy flaughter'd faints, whofe bones
Lie fcatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold;
E'vn them who keep thy truth fo pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipt ftocks and ftones,
Forget not in thy book record their groans
Who were thy fheep, and in their ancient fold
Slain by the bloody Piemontefe that roll'd
Mother with infant down the rocks.
The vales redoubled to the hills, and they

Their moans

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To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes fow 10
O'er all the Italian fields, where ftill doth fway
The triple Tyrant; that from these may grow

*This perfecution of the Proteftants in Piemont broke out in 1655. In May that year Cromwell wrote feveral letters to the Duke of Savoy, and other potentates and ftates, complaining of that perfecution. Echard tells us, that he proclaimed a faft, and caufed large contributions to be gathered for them in England; that he fent his agents to the Duke of Savoy, a prince with whom he had no correfpondence or commerce, and the next year fo engaged Card. Maza、rine, and even terrified the Pope himself, without fo much as doing any favour to the English Roman Catholics, that the Duke thought it neceffary to reftore all that he had taken from them, and renewed all thofe privileges they had formerly enjoyed. "So great (adds Echard) "was the terror of his name; nothing being more ufual than his fay«ing, that his ships in the Mediterraneon fhould vifit Civita Vecchia, and the found of his cannon fhould be heard in Rome."

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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 confider 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 ufelefs, though my foul more bent
To ferve therewith my Maker, and prefent
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 ferve him beft: his ftate
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,
And poft o'er land and ocean without reft;
They also serve who only stand and wait.

XX.

To Mr. LAWRENCE*.

Lawrence of virtuous father virtuous fon,

Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire,
Where fhall we fometimes meet, and by the fire
Help wafté a fullen day, what may be won
From the hard feafon gaining? time will run
On fmoother, till Favonius re-infpire
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire
The lilly' and rofe, that neither fow'd nor fpun.

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This Mr. Lawrence was the fon of the Prefident of Cromwell's council.

What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,
Of Attic tafte, with wine, whence we may rife
To hear the lute well touch'd, or artful voice
Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air?

He who of thofe delights can judge, and fpare
To interpofe them oft, is not unwife.

XXI.

To CYRIAC SKINNER*.

Cyriac, whofe grandfire on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applaufe
Pronounc'd and in his volumes taught our laws,
Which others at their bar so often wrench;
To day deep thoughts refolve with me to drench
In mirth, that after no repenting draws;
Let Euclid reft and Archimedes pause,

And what the Swede intends, and what the French.
To measure life learn thou betimes, and know
Toward folid good what leads the nearest way;
For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains,
And difapproves that care, tho' wife in fhow,
That with fuperfluous burden loads the day,
And when God sends a chearful hour, refrains.

XXII.

To the fame.

Cyriac, this three years day these eyes, tho' clear,
To outward view, of blemish or of spot,

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* Cyriac Skinner was the fon of William Skinner, Efq; and grandfon of Sir Vincent Skinner, and his mother was daughter of the famous Lord Chief Juftice 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 fon of London, and ingenious young gentleman and scholar to John Milton.

Bereft of light their feeing have forgot,
Nor to their idle orbs doth fight appear
Of fun, or moon, or ftar throughout the year,
Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not

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Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope; but ftill bear up and steer Right onward. What fupports me, dost thou ask ? The confcience, Friend, to' have loft them overply'd 10 In liberty's defenfe, my noble task,

Of which all Europe talks from fide to fide.

This thought might lead me through the world's vain Content tho' blind, had I no better guide.

XXIII.

On his deceased Wife *.

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Methought I faw my late efpoufed faint
Brought to me like Alceftis from the grave,
Whom Jove's great fon to her glad husband gave,
Refcued from death by force, though pale and faint.

Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint
Purification in the old Law did fave,

And fuch, as yet once more I trust to have
Full fight of her in Heav'n without restraint,
Came vefted all in white, pure as her mind :
Her face was veil'd, 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 fhe inclin❜d,

I wak'd, fhe fled, and day brought back my night.

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This was his fecond wife, Catharine the daughter of Capt. Woodcock of Hackney, who lived with him not above a year after their mairiage, and died in childbed of a daughter.

PSA L M S.

PSALM I. Done into verfe, 1653.

Lefs'd is the man who hath not walk'd aftray

BLefs'd

In counsel of the wicked, and i' th' way
Of finners hath not stood, and in the feat
Of fcorners hath not fat. But in the great
Jehovah's law is ever his delight,
And in his law he ftudies day and night.
He shall be as a tree which planted grows
By watry ftreams, and in his feafon knows
To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall,
And what he takes in hand fhall prosper all.
Not fo the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd
The wind drives, fo the wicked fhall not ftand
In judgment, or abide their trial then,
Nor finners in th' affembly of just men.

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

PSAL. II. Done Aug. 8, 1653. Terzette.

WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations

WHY

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Mufe a vain thing, the kings of the earth upstand With pow'r, and princes in their congregations Lay deep their plots together thro' each land Against the Lord and his Meffiah dear?

Let us break off, fay they, by ftrength of hand

M

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