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On the Miracle of Loaves.
OW, Lord, or never, they'll believe on Thee;
Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?
Or, 'cause Heaven's face is dim,
His needs a cloud.
Was ever froward wind
That could be so unkind,
Or wave so proud?
The wind had need be angry, and the water black, That to the mighty Neptune's self dare threaten wrack.
That braves you out;
You are the storm that mocks
Yourselves; you are the rocks
Besides this fear of danger there's no danger here,
On the Blessed Virgin's bashfulness.
HAT on her lap she casts her humble eye,
The fair star is well fixt, for where, O where,
Could she have fixt it on a fairer sphere?
'Tis Heav'n, 'tis Heav'n she sees, Heav'n's God there lies; She can see Heaven, and ne'er lift up her eyes This new guest to her eyes new laws hath given, 'Twas once look up, 'tis now look down to Heaven.
Upon Lazarus's Tears.
ICH Lazarus! richer in those gems, thy tears,
He scorns them now, but O, they'll suit full well
With th' purple he must wear in hell.
Two went up into the Temple to pray.
One stands up close, and treads on high,
One nearer to God's altar trod,
Upon the Ass that bore our Saviour.
Within the lips of love and joy doth dwell
Why else had Balaam's ass a tongue to chide
His master's pride?
And thou, Heaven-burthen'd beast, hast ne'er a word
To praise thy Lord?
That he should find a tongue and vocal thunder,
Was a great wonder;
But O, methinks 'tis a far greater one,
That thou find'st none.
I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my
HY God was making haste into thy roof, Thy humble faith and fear keeps Him aloof: He'll be thy guest; because He may not be, He'll come into thy house? No, into thee.
Upon the Powder-day.
OW fit our well-rank'd Feasts do follow,
I am the Door.
END now th' art set wide ope, the spear's sad art,
And his own hope,
Hath shut these doors of heaven, that durst
Thus set them ope.
The Blind cured by the Word of our Saviour.
Was never man, Lord, spake like Thee.
To speak thus was to speak, say I,
And He answered them nothing.
Nothing, we owe all things that be.
God spake once when He all things made,
He saved all when He Nothing said.
The world was made of Nothing then; 'Tis made by Nothing now again.
To our Lord, upon the Water made Wine. HOU water turn'st to wine, fair friend of life; Thy foe, to cross the sweet arts of Thy reign, Distils from thence the tears of wrath and strife, And so turns wine to water back again.
Neither durst any Man from that day ask Him any more Questions.
IDST all the dark and knotty snares,
Thy glorious wisdom breaks the nets,
And treads with uncontrolled steps.
Waiting on Thy victorious hand,
Of Thy renown, and their own shame :
While they speak nothing, they proclaim
These wretches have to speak Thy praise.
Upon our Saviour's Tomb, wherein never man was laid. OW life and death in Thee
Thou hadst a virgin womb
A Joseph did betroth
It is better to go into Heaven with one Eye, &c.
Yet, if thou❜lt fill one poor eye with Thy Heaven and