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Of him, t whose happy-making fight alone
When once our heav'nly-guided foul shall clime,
Then all this earthy grofness quit,
Attir'd with stars, we shall for ever sit,
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O

[Time. VI.

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Upon the CIRCUMCISION.

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E flaming Pow'rs, and winged Warriors bright

That erit with music, and triumphant song, First heard by happy watchful shepherds ear, So fweetly fung your joy the clouds along Through the soft silence of the list’ning night ; 5 Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear Your fiery essence can distil no tear, Burn in your sighs, and borrow Seas wept from our deep sorrow : He who with all Heav'n's heraldry whilere 10 Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease i Alas, how soon our sin Sore doth begin

His infancy to seise ! O more exceeding love or law more just? 15 Just law indeed, but more exceeding love ! For we by rightful doom remediless Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above High thron'd in secret bliss, for us frail duft Emptied his glory, ev'n to nakedness; And that great covenant which we still transgress Entirely satisfied, And the full wrath beside Of vengeful justice bore for our excess, And feals obedience first with wounding smart 25

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This day, but o ere long
Huge pangs and strong

Will pierce more near his heart.

VII.

At a SOLEMN MUSIC.

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LEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy, Wed your

divine sounds, and mix'd pow'r employ Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce, And to our high-rais'd phantasy present 5 That undisturbed song of pure concent, Ay sung before the saphir-color'd throne To him that fits thereon With faintly shout, and folemn jubilee, Where the bright Seraphim in burning row Their loud up-lifted angel-trumpets blow, And the cherubic host in thousand quires Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms, Hymns devout and holy pfalms

15 Singing everlastingly, That we on earth with undiscording voice May rightly answer that melodious noise ; As once we did, till disproportion'd fin Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din 20 Broke the fair music that all creatures made To their great Lord, whose love their motion fway'd In perfect diapason, whilst they stood In first obedience, and their state of good. O may we foon again renew that forg, And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long,

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To his celestial confort us unite,
To live with him, and fing in endless morn of light.

VIII.

An EPITAPH on the MARCHIONESS of,

WINCHESTER.

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HIS rich marble doth enter

The honor'd Wife of Winchester,
A Vicount's daughter, an Earl's heir,
Besides what her virtues fair
Added to her noble birth,
More than the could own from earth.
summers three times eight save one
She had told ; afas too soon,
After so short time of breath,
To house with darkness, and with death.
Yet had the number of her days
Been as complete as was her praise,
Nature and fate had had no strife
In giving limit to her life.
Her high birth, and her graces sweet
Quickly found a lover meet ;
The virgin quire for her request
The God that fits at marriage feast;
He at their invoking came
But with a scarce well-lighted flame;
And in his garland as he stood,
Ye might discern a cypress bud.
Once had the early matrons run
To greet her of a lovely son,
And now with second hope she goes,
And calls Lucina to her throws ;

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But

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But whether by mischance or blame
Atropos for Lucina came ;
And with remorseless cruelty
Spoild at once both fruit and tree :
The hapless babe before his birth
Had burial, yet not laid in earth,
And the languish'd mother's womb
Was not long a living tomb.
So have I seen some tender flip,
Sav'd with care from winter's nip,
The pride of her carnation train,
Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain,
Who only thought to crop the flow'r
New shot up from vernal show'r ;

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But the fair blossom hangs the head
Side-ways, as on a dying bed,
And those pearls of dew she wears,
Prove to be presaging tears,
Which the fad morn had let fall

45 On her hastning funeral. Gentle Lady, may thy grave Peace and quiet ever have ; After this thy travel fore Sweet reft seise thee evermore, That to give the world increase, Shortned hast thy own life's lease. Here, besides the forrowing That thy noble house doth bring, Here be tears of perfect moan Wept for thee in Helicon, And some flowers, and some bays, For thy herse, to strow the ways, Sent thee from the banks of Came, Devoted to thy virtuous name ;

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Whilst thou, bright Saint, high fits in glory,
Next her much like to thee in story,
That fair Syrian shepherdeis,
Who after

years

of barrenness, The highly favor'd Joseph bore To him that fervid for her before, And at her next birth much like thee, Through pangs fled to felicity, Far within the bosom bright of blazing Majesty and Light :

70 There with thee, new welcome Saint, Like fortunes may her soul acquaint, With thee there clad in radiant sheen, No Marchioness, but now a Queen,

IX.

SONG, On MAY MORNING.

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ow the bright morningstar, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with

her The flow'ry May, who from her green ļap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail bounteous May that doft inspire

s Mirth and youth and warm defire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing,

Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we falute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and with thee long,

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