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Both. We saw Thee in Thy balmy nest,
To Thee, meek Majesty, soft King Of simple graces and sweet loves,
Each of us his lamb will bring, Each his pair of silver doves;
Till burnt at last in fire of Thy fair eyes, Ourselves become our own best sacrifice!
If thou canst get but thither, HENRY VAUGHAN (1622–1695)
There grows the flower of peace,
The rose that can not wither,
Thy fortress and thy ease.
Leave then thy foolish ranges, Happy those early days, when I
For none can thee secure Shined in my angel-infancy;
But one who never changes,
Thy God, thy life, thy cure.
All calm, as it was bright; My gazing soul would dwell an hour, And round beneath it, Time, in hours, And in those weaker glories spy
days, years, Some shadows of eternity;
Driv'n by the spheres Before I taught my tongue to wound 15 Like a vast shadow moved; in which the My conscience with a sinful sound,
world Or' had the black art to dispense,
And all her train were hurled. A several sin to every sense,
The doting lover in his quaintest strain But felt through all this fleshly dress
Did there complain; Bright shoots of everlastingness.
Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his O how I long to travel back,
flights, And tread again that ancient track!
Wit's four delights, That I might once more reach that plain, With gloves and knots, the silly snares of Where first I left my glorious train;
pleasure; From whence the enlightened spirit sees 25
Yet his dear treasure, That shady city of palm trees.
All scattered lay, while he his eyes did But ah! my soul with too much stay
pour Is drunk, and staggers in the way!
Upon a flower.
15 Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move; 30
The darksome statesman, hung with And when this dust falls to the urn,
weights and woe, In that state I came, return.
Like a thick midnight-fog, moved there so
He did not stay nor go;
Condemning thoughts, like sad eclipses, PEACE
Upon his soul, My soul, there is a country
And clouds of crying witnesses without Afar beyond the stars,
Pursued him with one shout; Where stands a winged sentry
Yet digged the mole, and lest his ways be All skilful in the wars.
found, There, above noise and danger,
Worked under ground, Sweet Peace sits crowned with smiles, where he did clutch his prey. But one And one born in a manger
25 Commands the beauteous files.
That policy: He is thy gracious friend,
Churches and altars fed him; perjuries And my soul, awake!
Were gnats and flies; Did in pure love descend
It rained about him blood and tears, but he To die here for thy sake.
Drank them as free.
The fearful miser on a heap of rust
It was my heaven's extremest sphere, 5 Sat pining all his life there, did scarce The pale which held that lovely deer; trust
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love,
A narrow compass, and yet there
35 Dwelt all that's good and all that's fair; 10 Thousands there were as frantic as him- Give me but what this ribband bound, self,
Take all the rest the sun goes round!
GO, LOVELY ROSE!
Go, lovely rose!
Tell her that wastes her time and me, Said little less;
That now she knows, The weaker sort, slight, trivial wares en
When I resemble her to thee, slave, How sweet and fair she seems to be.
5 Who think them brave; And poor, despised Truth sat counting by Tell her that's young, Their victory.
And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung
In deserts, where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died. And sing and weep, soared up into the ring;
Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired;
Suffer herself to be desired, To live in grots and caves, and hate the
And not blush so to be admired.
15 day Because it shows the way,
Then die! that she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee;
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair! be
ANDREW MARVELL (1621–1678) “This ring the Bridegroom did for none provide
AN HORATIAN ODE UPON CROMBut for his bride."
бо WELL'S RETURN FROM IRE
EDMUND WALLER (1606–1687)
The forward youth that would appear
Nor in the shadows sing
ON A GIRDLE
That which her slender waist confined
'Tis time to leave the books in dust, 5
Removing from the wall
So restless Cromwell would not cease
But through adventurous war
That thence the royal actor borne
While round the armed bands
And, like the three-forked lightning, first He nothing common did, or mean,
But with his keener eye His fiery way divide;
The axe's edge did try; For 'tis all one to courage high,
Nor called the gods with vulgar spite The emulous, or enemy,
To vindicate his helpless right, And with such to inclose,
But bowed his comely head Is more than to oppose.
Down, as upon a bed.
Could by industrious valor climb
But those do hold or break,
And therefore must make room
Where greater spirits come.
And Hampton shows what part
He had of wiser art;
la kind of pear.
He to the Commons' feet presents
And, what he may, forbears
But thou, the war's and Fortune's son,
115 Still keep the sword erect;
Well then! I now do plainly see
This busy world and I shall ne'er agree. Besides the force it has to fright
The very honey of all earthly joy The spirits of the shady night,
Does of all meats the soonest cloy; The same arts that did gain
And they, methinks, deserve my pity 5 A power, must it maintain.
Who for it can endure the stings,
Of this great hive, the city.
Ah, yet, ere I descend to the grave
May I a small house and large garden Love in her sunny eyes does basking play;
have, Love walks the pleasant mazes of her
And a few friends, and many books, both hair;
true, Love does on both her lips forever stray,
Both wise, and both delightful too! And sows and reaps a thousand kisses
And since love ne'er will from me flee, there.
A mistress moderately fair, In all her outward parts Love's always
And good as guardian angels are, 15
Only beloved, and loving me. seen;
5 But oh! he never went within!
O fountains! when in you shall I Within, Love's foes, his greatest foes, Myself, eased of unpeaceful thoughts, abide:
espy? Malice, Inconstancy, and Pride.
O fields! O woods! when, when shall I be So the earth's face trees, herbs, and
made flowers do dress,
The happy tenant of your shade? But with other beauties numberless; Here's the spring-head of pleasure's But at the center darkness is, and hell,
flood: There wicked spirits, and there the Here's wealthy Nature's treasury, damned, dwell.
Where all the riches lie that she resolute.
Has coined and stamped for good.