A glory at opinion's frown that low'rs, Look as the flow'r which ling'ringly doth fade, With swifter speed declines than erst it spread, Think on thy home (my soul) and think aright, Thy sun posts westward, passed is thy morn, The weary mariner so fast not flies From wounds of abject times, and envy's eyes. To me this world did once seem sweet and fair, And weeping rainbows, her best joys I find : JOHN THE BAPTIST. THE last and greatest herald of heav'n's King, Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild, Among that savage brood the woods forth bring, Which he more harmless found than man, and mild; His food was locusts, and what there doth spring, This world a hunting is, The prey poor man, the Nimrod fierce is death, Lust, sickness, envy, care, With all those ills which haunt us while we breathe; Now, if by chance we fly Of these the eager chase, Casts on his nets, and there we panting die. APPLES OF SODOM. As are those apples, pleasant to the eye, Huge show'rs of flames, worse flames to overthrow : Would colour mischief, while within they glow RETIREMENT. THRICE happy he who by some shady grove, Far from the clam'rous world, doth live his own, Though solitary, who is not alone, But doth converse with that eternal love : O how more sweet is birds' harmonious moan, Which good make doubtful, do the evil approve! O how more sweet is zephyr's wholesome breath, And sighs embalm'd, which new-born flow'rs unfold, Than that applause vain honour doth bequeath! How sweet are streams to poison drunk in gold! The world is full of horrors, troubles, slights, Woods' harmless shades have only true delights. CRASHAW. Poet and Saint! to thee alone are given The two most sacred names of earth and heaven.-COWLEY. RICHARD CRASHAW, a religious poet, was a man of fervid mind and ardent piety, an accomplished scholar, and a powerful and popular preacher. The period of his birth is not ascertained; but it is known that his father was an author, and a preacher of the Temple church, London. Crashaw was educated at the Charter-House, and took a degree at Cambridge, where he published his sacred poem of "Steps to the Temple." In 1644 he was ejected from his living on refusing to subscribe the Covenant, and soon afterwards he professed the Roman Catholic faith. Crashaw was recommended by his friend, Cowley the poet, to the exiled Queen Henrietta, through whose interest he obtainèd a small office in Rome. He died about the year 1650, a canon of the church of Loretto. Though the poetical writings of Crashaw do not suffer the reader to forget that he was of the same church as Pascal and Fenelon, they cannot fail to please from their reverential fervour and genuine warmth of devotion. THE CIRCUMCISION. RISE, thou best and brightest morning, With thine own blush thy cheeks adorning, All the purple pride that laces Of all the fair-cheek'd flowers that fill thee, As this modest maiden lily, Our sins have sham'd into a rose. Bid thy golden god the sun, Burnish'd in his best beams, rise, Put all his red-ey'd rubies on ; 豪 Those rubies shall put out their eyes. TWO WENT UP INTO THE TEMPLE. Two went to pray? O! rather say One went to brag, th' other to pray : The other to the altar's God. EASTER DAY. RISE, Heir of fresh eternity From thy virgin tomb, Rise, mighty Man of wonders, and thy world with thee, Thy tomb the universal east, Nature's new womb, Thy tomb fair immortality's perfumed nest. |