The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont ... Edited from the autograph manuscript with introduction and notes by Eloise Robinson |
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Jan. I. 1643
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158
Jan. I. 1643
Away fond Hopes, built upon THREE MONTHS HENCE
And on ye drienes of ye spring:
Mischeifs post faster on
Then aged Time can run,
And in their Traine a FALL they bring,
'Gainst which ye tender SPRING knows no defense.
And on ye drienes of ye spring:
Mischeifs post faster on
Then aged Time can run,
And in their Traine a FALL they bring,
'Gainst which ye tender SPRING knows no defense.
What if kind Heavns should make next SPRING as dry
As are our stony Hearts or eyes?
The BLOOD already sown
Is not so deep sunk down
But it before THREE MONTHS may rise
And reach our foolish Hopes that mount so high.
As are our stony Hearts or eyes?
The BLOOD already sown
Is not so deep sunk down
But it before THREE MONTHS may rise
And reach our foolish Hopes that mount so high.
But sure our Sins are higher grown then so,
No BLOOD of ours can wash away
Those tall, & mighty Things,
Onely ye Stream which springs
From thy dear veines, Sweet LORD can stay
And staunch that Torrent, which so high doth flow.
No BLOOD of ours can wash away
Those tall, & mighty Things,
Onely ye Stream which springs
From thy dear veines, Sweet LORD can stay
And staunch that Torrent, which so high doth flow.
Thy potent BLOOD, though ne'r so little, may
Performe ye Cure: Good frydays Even
We need not wait to see:
O let ye Medicine be
That Earnest, which at first was given
Those pretious DROPS Thou shedst for Us to Day.
Performe ye Cure: Good frydays Even
We need not wait to see:
O let ye Medicine be
That Earnest, which at first was given
Those pretious DROPS Thou shedst for Us to Day.
159
Our Hopes We rather build on this WET SPRING,
Thy young Obedience may suffice
For our old Sins, & Wee
With joy may live to see
Our happiest PEACE from BLOOD arise,
The Soveraigne BLOOD of our triumphant King.
Thy young Obedience may suffice
For our old Sins, & Wee
With joy may live to see
Our happiest PEACE from BLOOD arise,
The Soveraigne BLOOD of our triumphant King.
| The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont | |