And where's a city from foul vice so free, Those that live single, take it for a curse, Some would have children: those that have them, moan Or wish them gone: What is it, then, to have, or have no wife, Our own affections still at home to please To cross the seas to any foreign soil, Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease, What then remains, but that we still should cry For being born, or, being born, to die? Lord Bacon LVIII THE LESSONS OF NATURE Of this fair volume which we World do name Find out his power which wildest powers doth tame, His justice which proud rebels doth not spare, But silly we, like foolish children, rest Well pleased with colour'd vellum, leaves of gold, LIX Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move? Is this that firm decree which all doth bind? Those souls which vice's moody mists most blind, Ah! if a Providence doth sway this all Why should best minds groan under most distress? Or why should pride humility make thrall, And injuries the innocent oppress? Heavens! hinder, stop this fate; or grant a time When good may have, as well as bad, their prime ! W. Drummond LX THE WORLD'S WAY 31 Tired with all these, for restful death I cry-- -Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, W. Shakespeare LXI SAINT JOHN BAPTIST The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King The Golden Treasury Book Second let ter LXII ODE ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY This is the month, and this the happy morn That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable, Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table He laid aside; and, here with us to be Forsook the courts of everlasting day, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain To welcome him to this his new abode, Now while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod, And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? See how from far, upon the eastern road, Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, From out his secret altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. THE HYMN It was the winter wild While the heaven-born Child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature in awe to him Had doff'd her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize : To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow; Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Confounded, that her Maker's eyes Should look so near upon her foul deformities. But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace; She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land. No war, or battle's sound Was heard the world around: The idle spear and shield were high up hung; |