Make bread of it: and that repose
And peace, which every where

With fo much earnestness you do pursue
Is only there.

XCVIII. CONFESSION.

WHAT a cunning guest

[made

Is this fame grief! within my heart I
Clofets; and in them many a cheft;
And like a master in my trade,

In those chefts, boxes; in each box, a till:
Yet grief knows all, and enters when he will.

No fcrew, no piercer can

Into a piece of timber work and wind,
As God's afflictions into man,

When he a torture hath defign'd.

They are too fubtle for the fubtleft hearts;
And fall, like rheums, upon the tenderest parts.

We are the earth; and they,

Like moles within us, heave, and cast about:
And till they foot and clutch their prey,

They never cool, much less give out.

No smith can make fuch locks, but they have keys; Clofets are halls to them; and hearts, highways.

Only an open breaft

Doth fhut them out, fo that they cannot enter;
Or, if they enter, cannot rest,

But quickly feek some new adventure. Smooth open hearts no fastening have; but fiction Doth give a hold and handle to affliction.

Wherefore my faults and fins,

Lord, I acknowledge; take thy plagues away:
For fince confeffion pardon wins,

I challenge here the brightest day,

The cleareft diamond: let them do their best,
They fhall be thick and cloudy to my breast.

XCIX. GIDDINESS.

OH, what a thing is man! how far from power,

From fettled peace and rest!

He is fome twenty feveral men at least
Each feveral hour.

One while he counts of heaven, as of his treasure :
But then a thought creeps in,

And calls him coward, who for fear of fin
Will lofe a pleasure.

Now he will fight it out, and to the wars;
Now eat his bread in peace,

And fnudge in quiet: now he fcorns increase;
Now all day fpares.

He builds a house, which quickly down must go,
As if a whirlwind blew

And crush'd the building: and 'tis partly true,
His mind is fo.

K

O what a fight were Man, if his attires
Did alter with his mind;

And, like a Dolphin's skin, his clothes combined
With his defires!

Surely if each one saw another's heart,
There would be no commerce,

No fale or bargain pafs: all would difperfe,
And live apart.

Lord, mend or rather make us: one creation
Will not fuffice our turn:

Except thou make us daily, we shall spurn
Our own falvation.

C. THE BUNCH OF GRAPES.

I did lock thee up: but fome bad man

Joy, Hath let thee out again:

And now, methinks, I am where I began

Seven years ago: one vogue and vein, One air of thoughts ufurps my brain, I did towards Canaan draw; but now I am Brought back to the Red Sea, the sea of shame.

For as the Jews of old by God's command
Travell'd, and faw no town;

So now each Christian hath his journeys spann'd:
Their ftory pens and fets us down.

A fingle deed is small renown.

God's works are wide, and let in future times; His ancient justice overflows our crimes.

Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds;
Our Scripture-dew drops fast:

We have our fands and serpents, tents and shrouds Alas! our murmurings come not last.

But where's the cluster? where's the tafte Of mine inheritance? Lord, if I must borrow, Let me as well take up their joy, as forrow.

But he want the can

grape,

who hath the wine?

I have their fruit and more.

Bleffed be God, who profper'd Noah's vine,

And made it bring forth grapes good store.
But much more him I must adore,

Who of the law's four juice sweet wine did make,
E'en God himself, being preffed for my fake.

CI. LOVE UNKNOWN.

EAR friend, fit down, the tale is long and fad :

D And in my faintings I prefume your love

Will more comply, than help. A Lord I had,
And have, of whom fome grounds, which may im-
I hold for two lives, and both lives in me.
To him I brought a dish of fruit one day,
And in the middle placed my heart.

But he

(I figh to fay)

Look'd on a fervant, who did know his eye

Better than you

Than I myself.

know me, or (which is one)

The fervant instantly

Quitting the fruit, seized on my heart alone,
And threw it in a font, wherein did fall

[prove,

A stream of blood, which issued from the fide
Of a great rock: I well remember all,

Enforceth tears.

And have good caufe: there it was dipt and dyed,
And wash'd, and wrung: the very wringing yet
Your heart was foul, I fear.
Indeed 'tis true. I did and do commit
Many a fault more than my lease will bear
Yet ftill afk'd pardon, and was not denied.
But you shall hear. After my heart was well,
And clean and fair, as I one even-tide

;

(I figh to tell)
Walk'd by myself abroad, I faw a large
And spacious furnace flaming, and thereon.
A boiling caldron, round about whose verge
Was in great letters fet AFFLICTION.
The greatness show'd the owner.
To fetch a facrifice out of my fold,
Thinking with that, which I did thus prefent,
To warm his love, which I did fear grew cold.
But as my heart did tender it, the man

So I went

Who was to take it from me, flipt his hand,
And threw my heart into the scalding pan;
My heart that brought it (do you understand?)
The offerer's heart. Your heart was hard, I fear.
Indeed 'tis true. I found a callous matter

Began to spread and to expatiate there:
But with a richer drug, than scalding water,
I bathed it often, e'en with holy blood,

Which at a board, while many drank bare wine,
A friend did steal into my cup

for good, E'en taken inwardly, and most divine

To fupple hardneffes. But at the length
Out of the caldron getting, foon I fled

Unto my house, where to repair the strength