Otia Sacra Optima Fides [by Mildmay Fane] |
 | I. |
My Handkerchief to dry my eyes after the losse of a most dear Friend.
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 | II. |
 | Otia Sacra Optima Fides |  |
58
My Handkerchief to dry my eyes after the losse of a most dear Friend.
Lord, sithence the best
Of Thine,
Their Portions have
Of Sorrow, Sickness, and the Grave:
Why should the worst repine,
Though Thou lock'st up their chiefest joyes in rest?
Of Thine,
Their Portions have
Of Sorrow, Sickness, and the Grave:
Why should the worst repine,
Though Thou lock'st up their chiefest joyes in rest?
Joyes, here but Lent,
And so
That we can say,
W'enjoy them for a day,
'Tis of meer Mercy, when for all we owe,
The Landlord must distrain to have his rent.
And so
That we can say,
W'enjoy them for a day,
'Tis of meer Mercy, when for all we owe,
The Landlord must distrain to have his rent.
This the unthrifty course we take,
Begets,
Whilst Pity mov'd, he tells
Us, He'll repair our tottering Cells,
And quite strike off our former debts,
If with Contentment, thankfulness partake.
Begets,
Whilst Pity mov'd, he tells
Us, He'll repair our tottering Cells,
And quite strike off our former debts,
If with Contentment, thankfulness partake.
These against sadness are
An Antidote,
Preventing its Cold Poyson, and
A heat-allaying-Julep, where Thy hand
Doth Thy displeasure in a Fever note:
They style the Grave, whether 'tbe near or farre,
T'be but a Bed; wherein when all must sleep,
Let them rest envy'd, for our Sins we'll weep.
An Antidote,
Preventing its Cold Poyson, and
A heat-allaying-Julep, where Thy hand
Doth Thy displeasure in a Fever note:
They style the Grave, whether 'tbe near or farre,
T'be but a Bed; wherein when all must sleep,
Let them rest envy'd, for our Sins we'll weep.
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