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Poesis Rediviva

or, Poesie Reviv'd. By John Collop
 
 

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To the Soul.
 

To the Soul.

Dull soul aspire,
Thou art not earth, mount higher:
Heav'n gave the spark, to it return the fire.
Let sin ne're quench,
Thy high flam'd spirit hence
The earth the heat, to heaven the flame dispence.
Rejoyce, rejoyce,
Turn, turn each part a voice:
VVhile to the heart-strings tun'd ye all rejoyce.
The house is swept,
VVhich sin so long foul kept:
The peny's found for which the loser wept.
And purg'd with tears,
Gods Image re-appears,
The peny truly shews whose stamp it bears.
The sheep long lost,
Sins wilderness oft crost,
Is found, regain'd, return'd; spare, spare no cost.
'Tis heav'ns own suit,
Hark how it woo's you to't:
VVhen Angels needs must speak, shall man be mute?