Prison-Pietie or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London |
Prison-Pietie | ||
Of Angels.
My Soul, in thy Devotions always say,O God, my God, Lord, hear me when I pray:
Let not or Saint or Angel, though sublime,
Share of that honour which is due to him:
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You Cæsar rob, to pay your Tythes to Paul.
Nor ought we to the Saints to shew neglect,
As if the objects of our disrespect.
Dives in his distress cry'd out for water
To Abraham a Saint: It is no matter,
We know what Dives was, and will forbear
To follow him that ran into a snare.
Prison-Pietie | ||