 | Poetical works (1908) |  |
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Upon the Contemplations of the B. of Excester, given to the Ladie E. W. at New-yeares-tide.
This little worlds two little starres are eyes;
And he that all eyes framed, fram'd all others
Downward to fall, but these to climbe the skies,
There to acquaint them with their starrie brothers;
Planets fixt in the head (their spheare of sense)
Yet wandring still through heav'ns circumference,
The Intellect being their Intelligence.
And he that all eyes framed, fram'd all others
Downward to fall, but these to climbe the skies,
There to acquaint them with their starrie brothers;
Planets fixt in the head (their spheare of sense)
Yet wandring still through heav'ns circumference,
The Intellect being their Intelligence.
Dull then that heavie soul, which ever bent
On earth and earthly toyes, his heav'n neglects;
Content with that which cannot give content:
What thy foot scorning kicks, thy soul respects.
Fond soul! thy eye will up to heav'n erect thee;
Thou it direct'st, and must it now direct thee?
Dull, heavie soul! thy scholar must correct thee.
On earth and earthly toyes, his heav'n neglects;
Content with that which cannot give content:
What thy foot scorning kicks, thy soul respects.
Fond soul! thy eye will up to heav'n erect thee;
Thou it direct'st, and must it now direct thee?
Dull, heavie soul! thy scholar must correct thee.
Thrice happie soul, that guided by thine eyes,
Art mounted up unto that starrie nation;
And leaving there thy sense, entrest the skies,
Enshrin'd and sainted there by contemplation!
Heav'n thou enjoy'st on earth, and now bereaven
Of life, a new life to thy soul is given.
Thrice happie soul, that hast a double heaven!
Art mounted up unto that starrie nation;
And leaving there thy sense, entrest the skies,
Enshrin'd and sainted there by contemplation!
Heav'n thou enjoy'st on earth, and now bereaven
Of life, a new life to thy soul is given.
Thrice happie soul, that hast a double heaven!
That sacred hand, which to this yeare hath brought you
Perfect your yeares, and with your yeares, his graces;
And when his will unto his will hath wrought you,
Conduct your soul unto those happie places,
Where thousand joyes, and pleasures ever new,
And blessings thicker then the morning dew
With endlesse sweets rain on that heav'nly crue.
Perfect your yeares, and with your yeares, his graces;
And when his will unto his will hath wrought you,
Conduct your soul unto those happie places,
Where thousand joyes, and pleasures ever new,
And blessings thicker then the morning dew
With endlesse sweets rain on that heav'nly crue.
| Poetical works (1908) | |