Chr.

CXXXIX. A DIALOGUE-ANTHEM.

CHRISTIAN, DEATH.

ALAS, poor death! where is thy glory?

Where is thy famous force, thy ancient
[fting?

Dea. Alas, poor mortal, void of story,
Go spell and read how I have kill'd thy king.

Chr. Poor death! and who was hurt thereby?
Thy curfe being laid on him makes thee accurst.

Dea. Let lofers talk, yet thou fhalt die ;
These arms fhall crush thee. Chr. Spare not,
do thy worst.

I shall be one day better than before:
Thou fo much worfe, that thou shalt be no

more.

TH

CXL. THE WATER-COURSE.

HOU who doft dwell and linger here below,
Since the condition of this world is frail,

Where of all plants afflictions fooneft grow;

If troubles overtake thee, do not wail:

For who can look for less that loveth

(Life.
Strife.

But rather turn the pipe, and water's course
To serve thy fins, and furnish thee with store
Of sovereign tears, springing from true remorse :
That fo in pureness thou mayft him adore

Who gives to man, as he sees fit,

(Salvation. Damnation.

CXLI. SELF-CONDEMNATION.

TH

HOU who condemnest Jewish hate,
For choofing Barabbas a murderer
Before the Lord of glory;

Look back upon thine own eftate,
Call home thine eye (that bufy wanderer)
That choice may be thy story.

He that doth love, and love amifs This world's delights before true Christian joy, Hath made a Jewish choice:

The world an ancient murderer is ; Thousands of fouls it hath and doth destroy With her enchanting voice.

He that hath made a forry wedding Between his foul and gold, and hath preferr'd Falfe gain before the true,

Hath done what he condemns in reading:

For he hath fold for money his dear Lord,
And is a Judas-Jew.

Thus we prevent the last great day,
And judge ourselves. That light which fin and

paffion

Did before dim and choke,

When once those fnuffs are ta'en away,

Shines bright and clear, e'en unto condemnation, Without excufe or cloak.

A

CXLII. BITTER-SWEET.

H, my dear angry Lord,

Since thou doft love, yet strike;

Caft down, yet help afford;

Sure I will do the like.

I will complain, yet praise;
I will bewail, approve :
And all my four-fweet days
I will lament, and love.

W

CXLIII. THE GLANCE.

HEN firft thy fweet and gracious eye
Vouchsafed e'en in the midst of youth and

To look upon me, who before did lie

Weltering in fin;

I felt a fugar'd strange delight,

Paffing all cordials made by any art,

Bedew, embalm, and overrun my heart,
And take it in.

[night

Since that time many a bitter ftorm
My foul hath felt, e'en able to destroy,
Had the malicious and ill-meaning harm
His fwing and fway:

But ftill thy fweet original joy,

Sprung from thine eye, did work within

my foul, And furging griefs, when they grew bold, control, And got the day.

If thy first glance fo powerful be,

A mirth but open'd, and feal'd up again;
What wonders fhall we feel, when we shall fee
Thy full-eyed love!

When thou shalt look us out of pain,

And one afpect of thine spend in delight
More than a thousand funs disburse in light,
In Heaven above.

CXLIV. THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM.

HE God of love my fhepherd is,

THE And he that doth me feed:

While he is mine, and I am his,

What can I want or need?

He leads me to the tender grafs,

Where I both feed and reft;

Then to the ftreams that gently pass :
In both I have the best.

Or if I ftray, he doth convert,

And bring my mind in frame:

And all this not for my defert,
But for his holy name.

Yea, in death's fhady black abode
Well may I walk, not fear:

For thou art with me, and thy rod
To guide, thy staff to bear.

Nay, thou doft make me fit and dine,
E'en in my enemies' fight;

My head with oil, my cup with wine
Runs over day and night.

Surely thy fweet and wondrous love
Shall measure all my days;

And as it never shall remove,

So neither fhall my praise.

W

CXLV. MARY MAGDALEN.

7HEN bleffed Mary wiped her Saviour's feet, (Whose precepts she had trampled on before) And wore them for a jewel on her head,

Showing his steps should be the street,
Wherein the thenceforth evermore

With penfive humbleness would live and tread :

She being stain'd herself, why did she strive
To make him clean, who could not be defiled?
Why kept the not her tears for her own faults,