A Lamb unspotted, white and pure,
To thee doth stand in lieu
Of light-so great the glory is
Thine Heavenly King to view.

He is the King of kings, beset
In midst His servants' sight;
And they, His happy household all,
Do serve Him day and night.
There, there the choir of angels sing-
There the supernal sort

Of citizens, which hence are rid
From dangers deep, do sport.

There be the prudent prophets all,
The apostles six and six,
The glorious martyrs in a row,

And confessors betwixt.

There doth the crew of righteous men

And matrons all consist

Young men and maids that here on earth
Their pleasures did resist.

The sheep and lambs, that hardly 'scaped
The snare of death and hell,

Triumph in joy eternally,

Whereof no tongue can tell ; And though the glory of each one Doth differ in degree,

Yet is the joy of all alike

And common, as we see.

There love and charity do reign,
And Christ is all in all,

Whom they most perfectly behold

In joy celestial.

They love, they praise-they praise, they love ;

They "Holy, holy," cry;

They neither toil, nor faint, nor end,

But laud continually.

O happy thousand times were I,
If, after wretched days,

I might with listening ears conceive
Those heavenly songs of praise,
Which to the Eternal King are sung
By happy wights above---

By saved souls and angels sweet,
Who love the God of love.

O passing happy were my state,
Might I be worthy found
To wait upon my God and King,
His praises there to sound;
And to enjoy my Christ above,
His favour and His grace,
According to His promise made,
Which here I interlace :

"O Father dear," quoth he, "let them Which Thou hast put of old

To me, be there where lo! I am

Thy glory to behold;

Which I with Thee, before the world

Was made in perfect wise,

Have had from whence the fountain great

Of glory doth arise."

Again: "If any man will serve

Thee, let him follow me;

For where I am, he there, right sure,

Then shall my servant be."

And still: "If any man loves me,

Him loves my Father dear, Whom do I love to him myself In glory will appear."

Lord, take away my misery,
That then I may be bold
With Thee, in Thy Jerusalem,
Thy glory to behold;

And so in Zion see my King,

My love, my Lord, my all-
Where now as in a glass I see,
There face to face I shall.

O blessed are the pure in heart-
Their Sovereign they shall see ;
O ye most happy, heavenly wights,
Which of God's household be!
O Lord, with speed dissolve my bands,
These gins and fetters strong;

For I have dwelt within the tents
Of Kedar over long.

Yet search me, Lord, and find me out!
Fetch me Thy fold unto,

That all Thy angels may rejoice,

While all Thy will I do.

O mother dear! Jerusalem !

When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end,
Thy joys when shall I see?

Yet once again I pray thee, Lord,
To quit me from all strife,
That to Thy hill I may attain,

And dwell there all my life-
With cherubims and seraphims
And holy souls of men,

To sing Thy praise, O God of Hosts! For ever and Amen!

"I LOVE (AND HAVE SOME CAUSE TO LOVE)
THE EARTH."

BY FRANCIS QUARLES.-1592-1644.

[FRANCIS QUARLES was born near Romford in Essex, in 1592: was educated at Cambridge, and afterwards became a student of Lincoln's Inn. He was cupbearer to Elizabeth, daughter of James I., until her husband became King of Bohemia; he was then made Secretary to Archbishop Usher in Ireland; and afterwards Chronologer to the City of London. He died in 1644; his death being accelerated, it is supposed, by the ill treatment he received from the Republicans.

Quarles' "Divine Emblems" were, and continue to be, the most popular of his works. His tendency to Puritanical sentiments, though a Royalist, was probably the cause of his writings being entirely neglected after the Restoration. His epigrammatic productions exhibit the rare union of wit and devotion; but he disobeyed the advice he gave to others :---“ Clothe not thy language either with obscurity or affectation."]

I LOVE (and have some cause to love) the earth:

She is my Maker's creature; therefore good:

She is my mother, for she gave me birth;

She is my tender nurse-she gives me food ;

But what's a creature, Lord, compared with Thee?
Or what's my mother, or my nurse to me?

I love the air her dainty sweets refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
Her shrill-mouth'd quire sustain me with their flesh,
And with their polyphonian notes delight me :

But what's the air or all the sweets that she
Can bless my soul withal, compared to Thee?

I love the sea she is my fellow-creature,
My careful purveyor; she provides me store:
She walls me round; she makes my diet greater ;
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore:

But, Lord of oceans, when compared with Thee,
What is the ocean, or her wealth to me?

To heaven's high city I direct my journey,
Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye;
Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney,
Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky:

But what is heaven, great God, compared to Thee?
Without Thy presence, heaven's no heaven to me.
Without Thy presence earth gives no refection;
Without Thy presence sea affords no treasure;
Without Thy presence air's a rank infection;
Without Thy presence heaven itself no pleasure :
If not possess'd, if not enjoy'd in Thee,
What's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven to me?