To these diminishings, as is between
The fpacious world and Jewry to be seen.
Religion stands on tiptoe in our land,
Ready to pass to the American strand.
When height of malice, and prodigious lufts,
Impudent finning, witchcrafts, and diftrufts,
(The marks of future bane,) fhall fill our cup
Unto the brim, and make our measure up ;
When Seine shall swallow Tiber, and the Thames
By letting in them both, pollutes her streams:
When Italy of us fhall have her will,
And all her calendar of fins fulfill;

Whereby one may foretell, what fins next year
Shall both in France and England domineer:
Then fhall Religion to America flee :

They have their times of Gospel, e'en as we.
My God, thou doft prepare for them a way,
By carrying first their gold from them away:
For gold and grace did never yet agree :
Religion always fides with poverty.

We think we rob them, but we think amiss :

We are more poor, and they more rich by this.
Thou wilt revenge their quarrel, making grace
To pay our debts, and leave our ancient place
To go to them, while that, which now their nation
But lends to us, fhall be our defolation.

Yet as the Church shall thither weftward fly,
So Sin fhall trace and dog her instantly:

They have their period alfo and fet times
Both for their virtuous actions and their crimes.
And where of old the Empire and the Arts
Ufher'd the Gospel ever in men's hearts,

Spain hath done one; when Arts perform the other,
The Church fhall come, and Sin the Church fhall smo-
That when they have accomplished the round, [ther:

And met in the east their first and ancient found, Judgment may meet them both, and fearch them round. Thus do both lights, as well in Church as Sun, Light one another, and together run.

Thus alfo Sin and Darkness follow ftill

The Church and Sun with all their power and skill.
But as the fun ftill goes both west and east:
So alfo did the Church by going west

Still eastward go; because it drew more near
To time and place, where judgment fhall appear.
How dear to me, O God, thy counsels are !
may with thee compare?

K

Who

L'ENVOY.

ING of glory, King of peace,

With the one make war to cease;

With the other bless thy sheep,
Thee to love, in thee to fleep.
Let not fin devour thy fold,
Bragging that thy blood is cold;
That thy death is also dead,
While his conquefts daily spread;
That thy flesh hath loft his food,
And thy Cross is common wood.
Choke him, let him fay no more,
But referve his breath in store,
Till thy conqueft and his fall
Make his fighs to use it all;
And then bargain with the wind
To discharge what is behind.

BLESSED BE God alone,

THRICE BLESSED THREE IN ONE.

P

SENT BY GEORGE HERBERT TO HIS MOTHER AS A
NEW YEAR'S GIFT FROM CAMBRIDGE.

M

God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole fhoals of Martyrs once did Befides their other flames? Doth poetry

Wear Venus' livery? only serve her turn? Why are not fonnets made of thee? and layes Upon thine altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to found out thy praise

As well as any fhe? Cannot thy Dove Outftrip their Cupid eafily in flight?

[burn,

Or, fince thy ways are deep, and still the fame, Will not a verfe run smooth that bears thy name ! Why doth that fire, which by thy power and might Each breaft does feel, no braver fuel choose Than that, which one day, worms may chance reSure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry

Oceans of ink; for, as the Deluge did Cover the Earth, fo doth thy Majefty:

[fufe.

Each cloud diftils thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use.

Roses and lilies fpeak thee; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse.

Why should I women's eyes for crystal take? Such poor invention burns in their low mind Whofe fire is wild, and doth not upward go To praise, and on thee, Lord, fome ink bestow. Open the bones, and you shall nothing find In the best face but filth; when Lord, in thee The beauty lies, in the discovery.

S

III. ON LORD DANVERS.

ACRED marble, fafely keep

His duft, who under thee must fleep,

Until the years again restore

Their dead, and time shall be no more.
Mean while, if he, (which all things wears)
Does ruin thee, or if thy tears

Are shed for him; diffolve thy frame,
Thou art requited for his fame,
His virtue, and his worth fhall be
Another monument to thee.

IV. A PARADOX.*

(FROM A MS. COLLECTION FORMERLY DR. RAWLINSON'S, IN THE BODLEIAN LIBRARY, Oxford.)

THAT THE SICK ARE IN A BETTER CASE, THEN
THE WHOLE.

OU who admire yourselves because

Y You neither groan nor weep,

And think it contrary to Nature's laws
To want one ounce of fleep,
Your ftrong belief

Acquits yourselves, and gives the fick all grief.

Your ftate to ours is contrary,

That makes you think us poor,

So Black-moors think us foul, and wee
Are quit with them, and more,
Nothing can fee,

And judge of things but mediocrity.

The fick are in themselves a state

Which health hath nought to do.

* See a poem (No. xli.) in the Synagogue at the end of the volume.