 | Divine poems
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Eleg. 14.
O let the ballance of our even pois'd hearts
Weigh our afflictions with our just deserts,
And ease our heavie scale; Double the graines
We take from sinne, Heaven taketh from our pains;
Oh, let thy lowly-bended eyes not feare
Th'Almighties frownes, nor husband one poore teare;
Be prodigall in sighes, and let thy tongue,
Thy tongue estrang'd to heaven, cry all night long;
My soule thou leav'st, what thy Creator did
Will thee to doe, hast done what he forbid;
This, this hath made so great a strangenesse bee
(If not divorce) betwixt thy GOD, and thee.
| Divine poems
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