A man, that looks on glass,
On it may stay his eye;

Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heaven espy.

All may of thee partake:

Nothing can be so mean,

Which with his tincture, FOR THY SAKE,
Will not grow bright and clean.

A servant, with this clause,
Makes drudgery divine:

Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws,

Makes that, and th' action, fine.

This is the famous stone,

That turneth all to gold;

For that, which God doth touch and own,
Cannot for less be told.

A Wreath.

A WREATHED garland of deserved praise,
Of praise deserved, unto thee I give ;
I give to thee, who knowest all my ways,—
My crooked winding ways, wherein I live;
Wherein I die, not live; for life is straight,—
Straight as a line, and ever tends to thee-
To thee, who art more far above deceit,
Than deceit seems above simplicity.
Give me simplicity, that I may live;

So live, and like, that I may know thy ways;
Know them, and practise them. Then shall I give,
For this poor wreath, give thee a crown, of praise.

Death.

DEATH, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing, Nothing but bones,

The sad effect of sadder groans;

Thy mouth was open, but thou couldst not sing.

For we considered thee, as at some six
Or ten years hence;

After the loss of life and sense,

Flesh being turned to dust, and bones to sticks.

We looked on this side of thee, shooting short.
Where we did find

The shells of fledge souls left behind;
Dry dust, which sheds no tears-but may extort.

But, since our Saviour's death did put some blood Into thy face,

Thou art grown fair and full of grace, Much in request, much sought for as a good.

For we do now behold thee, gay and glad,
As at doomsday;

When souls shall wear their new array,
And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad.

Therefore we can go die, as sleep; and trust
Half that we have

Unto an honest, faithful grave:

Making our pillows either down, or dust.

Doomsday.

COME away,

Make no delay!

Summon all the dust to rise,
Till it stir and rub the eyes:
While this member jogs the other,
Each one whispering-" Live you, brother?"
Come away,

Make this the day!

Dust, alas! no music feels,
But thy trumpet; then it kneels :
As peculiar notes and strains
Cure tarantulas' raging pains.

Come away,

Oh, make no stay!

Let the graves make their confession,
Lest, at length, they plead possession:
Flesh's stubbornness may have
Read that lesson to the grave.

Come away!

Thy flock doth stray.

Some to winds their body lend;

And, in them, may drown a friend.

Some, in noisome vapors, grow

To a plague and public wo.

Come away!

Help our decay.

Man is out of order hurled,
Parcelled out to all the world.
Lord! thy broken concert raise;
And the music shall be praise.

Judgment.

ALMIGHTY JUDGE! how shall poor wretches brook Thy dreadful look,

Able an heart of iron to appal,

When thou shalt call

For every man's peculiar book?

What others mean to do, I know not well;
Yet I hear tell,

That some will turn thee to some leaves therein
So void of sin,

That they in merit shall excel.

But I resolve, when thou shalt call for mine,
That to decline;

And thrust a testament into thy hand.

Let that be scanned;

There thou shalt find my faults are thine.

Heaven.

OH, who will shew me those delights on high?

Thou, Echo? thou art mortal, all men know.

Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves?

What leaves are they? Impart the matter wholly.

Are holy leaves the echo, then, of bliss?

Then tell me, what is that supreme delight?

Light, to the mind; what shall the will enjoy ?

But are there cares and business with the pleasure?

Echo.

Echo.

Leisure.

Light, Joy, and Leisure! but shall they persevere ?

Ever.

Lobe.

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,

Drew nearer to me; sweetly questioning,
If I lacked any thing.

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here-"
Love said "You shall be he."

"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah! my dear, I cannot look on thee."

Love took my hand; and, smiling, did reply, "Who made the eyes, but I?"

"Truth, Lord; but I have marred them: let my shame Go where it doth deserve."

"And know you not," says Love," who bore the blame?" "My dear, then I will serve.'

"You must sit down," says Love," and taste my meat." So I did sit and eat.

GLORY BE TO GOD ON HIGH, AND ON EARTH
PEACE, GOOD WILL TOWARDS MEN.