But as cold hands are angry with the fire,

And mend it ftill,.

So I do lay the want of my defire,
Not on my fins, or coldness, but thy will.

Yet hear, O God, only for his blouds fake
Which pleads for me:

For though fins plead too, yet like ftones they make
His bloods fweet current much more loud to be.

The Church Floor.

Mark you the floor? that square and fpeckled ftom Which looks fo firm and strong,

Is Patience:

And th other black and grave, wherewith each one
Is checker'd all along,
Humility:

The gentle rifing, which on either hand
Leads to the Quire above,

Is Confidence:

But the sweet Cement, which in one fure band
Ties the whole frame, is Love
And Charity.

Hither fometimes fin fteals, and ftains
The Marbles neat and curious veins :
But all is cleanfed when the Marble weeps.
Sometimes Death, puffing at the door,
Blows all the duft about the floor:
But while he thinks to fpoil the room, he sweeps.
Bleft be the Archite&t, whofe art

Could build so strong in a weak heart.

The

The Windows.

Ord, how can man preach thy eternal word?
He is a brittle crazy glasse :

Yet in thy Temple thou doft him afford

This glorious and tranfcendent place,
To be a window, through thy grace:

But when thou doft anneal in glaffe thy ftory,
Making thy life to fhine within

-The holy Preachers; then the light and glory

10:

More rev'rend grows, and more doth win;
Which else fhews watrifh, bleak, and thin.

Doctrine and life, colours and light, in one":

When they combine, and mingle, bring *Aftrong regard and awe: but fpeech alone Doth vanish like a flaring thing,

15' And in the ear, not confcience, ring.

Trinity-Sunday.

Lord, who haft form'd me out of mad,

And haft redeem'd me through thy bloud
And fan&tifi'd me to do good;

Purge all my fins done heretofore:
20 For I confefs my heavy score,
And I will strive to fin no more.

Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me,
With faith, with hope, with charity i
That I may run, rife, reft with thee,

TCor

Content.

Eace mutt'ring thoughts,and do not grudge to keep
Within the walls of your own breast.

Who cannot on his own bed fweetly fleep,
Can on anothers hardly reft.

Gad nor abroad at ev'ry queft and call
Of an untrained hope or paffion.

To court each place or fortune that doth fall,
I's wantonnefs in contemplation.

Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie,
Content and warm t'it felf alone:
But when it would appear to others eye,
Without a knock it never fhone.

Give me the pliant mind, whose gentle measure.
Complies and fuits with all eftates;
which can let loose to a crown,& yet with pleasure
Take up within a cloifters gates.

This foul doth fpan the world, and hang content
From either pole unto the centre :›
Where in each room of the well-furnisht tent

He lies warm, and without adventure. 20

The brags of life are but a nine-days wonder:
And after death the fumes that fpring
From private bodies, make as big a thunder,
As thofe which rife from a huge King.

Only thy Chronicle is loft and yet

Better by worms be all once spent,

Than to have hellifli moths ftill gnaw and fret

Thy name in books, which may not vent

When

When all thy deeds, whofe brunt thou feel'ft alone,
Are chaw'd by others pens and tongue,

And as their wit is, their digeftion,

Thy nourisht fame is weak or ftrong.

5 Then ceafe difcourfing foul, till thine own ground, Do not thy felf or friends importune.

He that by seeking hath himself once found,
Hath ever found a happy fortune.

¶ The Quiddity.

10MY God, a verfe is not a crown,
No point of honour, or gay fuit,
No hawk, or banquet; or renown,
Nor a good (word, nor yet a lute:

15 It cannot vault, or dance or play;
It never was in France or Spain;
Nor can it entertain the day
With my great stable or demain ::

It is no office, art, or news,
20 Nor the exchange, or bufie Hall:
But it is that which while I use
I am with thee, and Moft take all

Humility.

Saw the Vertues fitting hand in hand
In fev'ral.Ranks upon an azure throne,

25 Where all the beafts and fowls by their command Prefented tokens of fubmiffion;

Humility, who fat the lowest there

When by the beafts the prefents tendred were,

2

To execute their call,

Gave them about to all.

Th

The angry Lion did prefent his paw,
Which by confent was giv'n to Manfuetude:
The fearful Hare her ears, which by their law
Humility did reach to Fortitude.

The jealous Turky brought his corall-chain;
That went to Temperance:

On Juftice was beftow'd the Foxes brain,

Kill'd in the way by chance.

At length the Crow bringing the Peacocks plume, (For he would not) as they beheld the grace Of that brave gift, each one began to fume, And challenge it as proper to his place,

Till they fell out: which when the beafts efpi'd,

They leapt upon the throne;

And if the Fox had liv'd to rule their fide,

They had depos'd each one.

Humility, who held the plume, at this

Did weep fo faft, that the tears trickling down
Spoil d all the train: then saying, Here it is

For which ye wrangle, made them turn their frown 20
Against the beafts: fo joyntly bandying,

They drive them foon away;

And then amerc'd them, double gifts to bring
At the next Seffion-day.

But is fair daft!

I furname them gilded clay,

Dear earth, fine grafs or hay;

In all, I think my foot doth ever tread

30

Upon their head.

But