thee.
How sweetly shows thy smiling face,
Thy lips with all-diffused grace!
Thy hands, though cold, yet spotless white,
And comely as the chrysolite!
_Chor._ Thy belly like a hill is,
Or as a neat
Clean heap of wheat,
All set about with lilies.
Sleep with thy beauties here, while we
Will show these garments made by thee;
These were the coats, in these are read
The monuments of Dorcas dead.
These were thy acts, and thou shall have
These hung as honours o'er thy grave;
_Chor._ And after us, distressed,
Should fame be dumb,
Thy very tomb
Would cry out, Thou art blessed.
_Deal_, portion.
_Maundy_, the alms given on Thursday in Holy Week.
_Reaming_, drawing out into threads.
_Calamus_, a fragrant plant, the sweet flag.
_Chrysolite_, the topaz.
124. TO GOD IN TIME OF PLUNDERING.
Rapine has yet took nought from me;
But if it please my God I be
Brought at the last to th' utmost bit,
God make me thankful still for it.
I have been grateful for my store:
Let me say grace when there's no more.
125. TO HIS SAVIOUR. THE NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.
That little pretty bleeding part
Of foreskin send to me:
And I'll return a bleeding heart
For New-Year's gift to Thee.
Rich is the gem that Thou did'st send,
Mine's faulty too and small;
But yet this gift Thou wilt commend
Because I send Thee all.
126. DOOMSDAY.
Let not that day God's friends and servants scare;
The bench is then their place, and not the bar.
127. THE POOR'S PORTION.
The sup'rabundance of my store,
That is the portion of the poor:
Wheat, barley, rye, or oats; what is't
But He takes toll of? all the grist.
Two raiments have I: Christ then makes
This law; that He and I part stakes.
Or have I two loaves, then I use
The poor to cut, and I to choose.
128. THE WHITE ISLAND: OR, PLACE OF THE BLEST.
In this world, the isle of dreams,
While we sit by sorrow's streams,
Tears and terrors are our themes
Reciting:
But when once from hence we fly,
More and more approaching nigh
Unto young Eternity
Uniting:
In that whiter island, where
Things are evermore sincere;
Candour here, and
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