Earnestness of Covenanting

Never will I break the Covenant
Plighted, Brother, with thee now!
One between us stands attesting
To the fervor of my vow.
In His name, above His Promise,
By His honor, for His cause,
Here's my hand, the Lord confirm it, —
I will surely keep my vows!

Tormi potrei, alto Signor, la vita

Of life you may deprive me, mighty Lord,
Such right from monarch's usurpation springs,
But Reason — gift of the Eternal word —
To take from Man, because of love he sings,
Of love — by Heaven and nature taught — absurd!
Nay worse, a crime — the worst of crimes in Kings.
Pardon I craved — it is denied — Adieu
My penitence I do repent anew.

From Martial

Let me die if I would not whole days be with you,
My companion belov'd — half the night with you too:
But a couple of miles are no trifling concern,
And the two become four when I go to return.
Often absent — as often at home you're denied ,
When the Muses are courted, or Love's at your side;
Tho' to see you two miles are not more than I chuse ,
Not to see you — the four I must beg to refuse .

Magi

Three clouds of sunset gather with their gold:
What strange persuasion does the half-light bring!
Just now I thought they grew like camels, each
With purple slung, and carrying a king.

To

A flame forever winds your brow —
As halos wont to mediate
Our mortal with divinity,
Lifting the glorified from common fate
Of passionate fault or faithless constancy —
A Bodhisattva, for Love's sake
Renouncing proffered deity,
The vexed and tender way of earth to take.

Psalm 90

Lorde, thou hast bene oure refuge from one generacion to another.
Before the mountaynes were brought forth, or ever the earth and the worlde were made, thou art God from everlastyng and worlde without ende.
Thou turnest man to destruccion. Agayne, thou sayest: come agayne ye chyldren of men. For a thousande yeares in thy syght are but as yesterdaye, seynge that is past as a watch in the nyght. As sone as thou scatrest them, they are even as a slepe, and fade awaye sodenly lyke the grasse.

Lines to Miss****

When 'S graces bid the pencil break
Through Nature's barriers, and the canvass speak;
Lo! stooping Time stands gazing at the form,
And e'en his frigid limbs with love grow warm.
But when her lofty muse commands the page
To soothe the passions, or inspire with rage,
Charmed with each line the hoary despot stands,
And ruin's uplift scythe drops from his hands.

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