Classic Poem

Today white Saincts & holy angells sing
To that pure lambe, some new trivmphant thing
Wherat the whole frame of the world ascends
Each bird on wings acrosse his iourney bends
Vpright, & from the most exalted twist
His voice p[r]oclaims his ioys aboue consist
Earth swells to rise, & heav's hir issue faire
In swift perfumes to latch the mounting ayre
Rise then my soule. & every powre awake
Can walls of dust so strong resistance make?
Loe! thy Redeemer that braue Aegle flies
With cage & all, breaking the marble skies
His way to climbe was first to be deprest
Lay then his bloudie crosse vpon thy brest
Which will be such a loade as birds wings are
To beare thee where, his pleading wounds prepare
A crowne of glorie, made by conquest thine
Was his by nature: where he will refine
Thee & thy Case of Clay bright as his owne
When ioind in blisse you both ascend one throne.

Verses on a bible presented to the Lady K C.
This world is gods large booke wherin we learne
Him in his glasse of wonders to discerne
But since the print was darke and we synnblind
His word became the Mirrhour of his mind,
And as the eternall father on the sonne
His forme engrau'd, before all worlds begun
So what he is, what god in him, to VS
The spirit of both, does in this booke discusse
Cleare Spring of wisedome! Truths eternall mine!
The whole a Temple, & each leafe a shrine,
And as on clouds, on mountains, and on streams,
The sunne letts beautie fall in golden beams
But with his owne pure light the starrs inspires
And through their bodies thrusts his liuing fires
So other holy books can but reflect
Those rays which here are natiue & direct
Which apt to dazle & confound the wise
Are yet a gentle light to childrens eyes
And you bright mayd (whose name if I rehearse
I shall a Rubricke make and not a verse,
And were such gold found in Italian mines
They would haue twentie new St Katherines)
As litle ones in gardens take delight,
Here gather fruicts for taste & flow'rs for sight
The flow'r of Iesse, that fresh and lasting rose
The fruict of knowledge, and of life here grows;
On babes as tender Virgins loue to looke
Behold that blessed babe within this booke
Pure faire & deckt in roabs of white & redd
A crowne of radiant starrs abouThis head;
If you be sicke, if head or heart shall ake
To Thesus name turne & the paine will slake
Read it when first you rise & gone to bedd
Vnder your pillow let it bear your head
All books in one all learning lies in this
This your first ABC, and best Primer is
Whence hauing throughly learnt the [Chris]tcrosse row
You may with comfort to Our Father goe
Who will you to that highest lesson bring
Which Seraphins instrucThis saincts to sing.

On that noble gentleman Mr H. Hast: losing his eye
G REAT God, that art all Eye! who first gaue sight
To the darke Chäos, yeilding noe delight
To thee the double parent, while it lay
So deepe in night; that nothing yet was day
Wherin nought pleasd thine eye that blindly stood
But when it saw thou saw'st it all was good;
Thou whose eternall essence, house, and roabe,
Are all one light one boundlesse Chrystall globe.
Father of lights whose sonne is from on high
The Dayspring, and whose spirit an inward eye
Which through the worlds wide Engine moues & roules
But dwells in vs illumining our souls
To search and find that whole and only blisse
Which of all three in one the vision is;
Thou whose blest hands our bodies beauteous frame
Shooke out of dust; and balls of liuing flame
Fix'd in our fronts erect and when they fade
Farre brighter shall by thy last worke be made
Thou dreadfull Potter! may thine humble clay
Aske if deformities or Darknesse may
Be pleasing in thy sight; or why we find
So many borne, so many stricken blind
Troops of diseases, change of chance to marre
Thy worke & leave a cloud wher was a starre
If Syn still made thy wrath thus heavy fall
Alasse! thou mighst raine darkenesse on vs all;
If sinns excesse, their pride that haue their eyes
Wou'd all exceed; for they wou'd all despise.
What on sinns slaues as bitter plague is thrown
Like Manna falls & mercie to thine owne;
The Sodomites were blind, so Toby was,
This fell on Paul, as well as Elymas,
And to thy booke: thy glasse, when we repayre
Where as all scruples, all Solucions are
That blind borne man so pos'd & quarrelld there
His parents too, by thine owne doome are cleare
And opening his thou giu'st vs eyes to see
That natures blemish may thy glorie bee
So canst thou blend theise things & make vs wealth
Of povertie, and of a sicknesse health
Want teaches plenties vse, were night away
We shou'd grow wanton weary of the day
Blows, bruises, blindnesse ere thy work be done
May into medcine, balme and eyesalue runne
Yet in ripe time those scales fell from St Paule
And Toby's sight grew in a fishes gall
Of thy prescribing, which his sonne convayd
As thine Apothecarie, readie made
So Lord prescribe, prepare, direct & blesse
Th'appliances, watch over every dresse
Of this thine humble servant, till his soule
Be full reioic'd to find his body whole;
And through those casements thou so faire didst glaze
Salute the light and thee theire maker praise
Thou that through darknesse see'st downe to my reins
And knowst how close this griefe my heart constrains
How this blow strikes mine eyes still that to weepe
I find them apter then to looke or sleepe.
Thou knowst the muse was noe fantastick fitt
Brought forth this verse: I am not sick of witt
But theise disorder'd words like Annaes deepe
Fetchd from my soule in lowly murmure creepe
Vp to thy throne of Grace—..
—— —— —— The rest is lost.