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1650

Leave then thy foolish ranges;

For none can thee secure
But One who never changes-

Thy God, thy life, thy cure.

Henry Vaughan.

20

THE RETREAT

HAPPY those early days, when I
Shin'd in my Angel-infancy!
Before I understood this place
Appointed for my second race,
Or taught my soul to fancy aught
But a white, celestial thought;
When yet I had not walk'd above
A mile or two from my first Love,
And looking back, at that short space
Could see a glimpse of his bright face;
When on some gilded cloud or flower
My gazing soul would dwell an hour,
And in those weaker glories spy
Some shadows of eternity;

Before I taught my tongue to wound
My conscience with a sinful sound,
Or had the black art to dispense
A several sin to every sense,
But felt through all this fleshly dress
Bright shoots of everlastingness.

O how I long to travel back,

And tread again that ancient track!

ΙΟ

20

1650.

That I might once more reach that plain,
Where first I left my glorious train;
From whence th' enlighten'd spirit sees
That shady City of Palm-trees!
But ah! my soul with too much stay
Is drunk, and staggers in the way!
Some men a forward motion love,
But I by backward steps would move;
And when this dust falls to the urn,
In that state I came, return.

Henry Vaughan.

30

BERMUDAS

WHERE the remote Bermudas ride,
In the ocean's bosom unespied,
From a small boat that row'd along
The listening winds received this song:
"What should we do but sing His praise
That led us through the watery maze
Unto an isle so long unknown,

And yet far kinder than our own?

Where He the huge sea monsters wracks,
That lift the deep upon their backs;

He lands us on a grassy stage,

Safe from the storms, and prelate's rage.
He gave us this eternal spring
Which here enamels everything,
And sends the fowls to us in care
On daily visits through the air;

ΙΟ

1681.

He hangs in shades the orange bright,
Like golden lamps in a green night,
And does in the pomegranates close
Jewels more rich than Ormus shows:
He makes the figs our mouths to meet,
And throws the melons at our feet;
But apples plants of such a price,
No tree could ever bear them twice;
With cedars chosen by His hand
From Lebanon He stores the land;
And makes the hollow seas that roar
Proclaim the ambergris on shore;
He cast (of which we rather boast)
The Gospel's pearl upon our coast;
And in these rocks for us did frame
A temple where to sound His name.
Oh! let our voice His praise exalt
Till it arrive at Heaven's vault,

Which thence (perhaps) rebounding, may
Echo beyond the Mexique bay!"
-Thus sung they in the English boat
A holy and a cheerful note;

And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.

20

30

40

Andrew Marvell.

THE INVITATION

LORD, what unvalued pleasures crown'd

The days of old;

When Thou were so familiar found,

Those days were gold;

When Abram wish'd Thou couldst afford

With him to feast;

When Lot but said, "Turn in, my Lord,"
Thou wert his guest.

But, ah! this heart of mine doth pant,

And beat for Thee;

Yet Thou art strange, and wilt not grant
Thyself to me.

What, shall Thy people be so dear

To Thee no more?

Or is not heaven to earth as near

As heretofore?

The famish'd raven's hoarser cry
Finds out Thine ear;

My soul is famish'd, and I die

Unless Thou hear.

O Thou great Alpha! Kings of kings!

Or bow to me,

Or lend my soul seraphic wings,

8

12

16

20

To get to Thee.

24

Anonymous.

A HYMN OF TRUST

LORD, it belongs not to my care,

Whether I die or live;

To love and serve Thee is my share,
And this Thy grace must give.

If life be long I will be glad,

That I may long obey;

If short-yet why should I be sad

To soar to endless day?

Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than he went through before;

He that unto God's kingdom comes,
Must enter by this door.

Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet

Thy blessed face to see;

For if Thy work on earth be sweet,

What will Thy glory be!

Then I shall end my sad complaints,
And weary, sinful days;

12

16

And join with the the triumphant saints,
To sing Jehovah's praise.

20

My knowledge of that life is small,

The eye of faith is dim;

But 't is enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with Him.

1683.

24

Richard Baxter.

THE VOICE OF THE HEAVENS

THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,

And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.

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