Part 80 (2/2)

I die to make my foes inherit!'

4 O blessed Lamb!

That took'st my sin, That took'st my shame, How shall thy dust thy praises sing?

I would I were One hearty tear!

One constant spring!

Then would I bring Thee two small mites, and be at strife Which should most vie, My heart or eye, Teaching my years In smiles and tears To weep, to sing, thy death, my life.

RULES AND LESSONS.

1 When first thy eyes unvail, give thy soul leave To do the like; our bodies but forerun The spirit's duty. True hearts spread and heave Unto their G.o.d, as flowers do to the sun.

Give him thy first thoughts then; so shalt thou keep Him company all day, and in him sleep.

2 Yet never sleep the sun up. Prayer should Dawn with the day. There are set, awful hours 'Twixt Heaven and us. The manna was not good After sun-rising; far-day sullies flowers.

Rise to prevent the sun; sleep doth sins glut, And heaven's gate opens when this world's is shut.

3 Walk with thy fellow-creatures; note the hush And whispers amongst them. There's not a spring Or leaf but hath his morning-hymn. Each bush And oak doth know I AM. Canst thou not sing?

Oh, leave thy cares and follies! go this way, And thou art sure to prosper all the day.

4 Serve G.o.d before the world; let him not go Until thou hast a blessing; then resign The whole unto him, and remember who Prevailed by wrestling ere the sun did s.h.i.+ne; Pour oil upon the stones; weep for thy sin; Then journey on, and have an eye to heaven.

5 Mornings are mysteries; the first world's youth, Man's resurrection and the future's bud Shroud in their births; the crown of life, light, truth Is styled their star, the stone, and hidden food.

Three blessings wait upon them, two of which Should move. They make us holy, happy, rich.

6 When the world's up, and every swarm abroad, Keep thou thy temper; mix not with each clay; Despatch necessities; life hath a load Which must be carried on, and safely may.

Yet keep those cares without thee, let the heart Be G.o.d's alone, and choose the better part.

7 Through all thy actions, counsels, and discourse, Let mildness and religion guide thee out; If truth be thine, what needs a brutish force?

But what's not good and just ne'er go about.

Wrong not thy conscience for a rotten stick; That gain is dreadful which makes spirits sick.

8 To G.o.d, thy country, and thy friend be true; If priest and people change, keep thou thy ground.

Who sells religion is a Judas Jew; And, oaths once broke, the soul cannot be sound.

The perjurer's a devil let loose: what can Tie up his hands that dares mock G.o.d and man?

9 Seek not the same steps with the crowd; stick thou To thy sure trot; a constant, humble mind Is both his own joy, and his Maker's too; Let folly dust it on, or lag behind.

A sweet self-privacy in a right soul Outruns the earth, and lines the utmost pole.

10 To all that seek thee bear an open heart; Make not thy breast a labyrinth or trap; If trials come, this will make good thy part, For honesty is safe, come what can hap; It is the good man's feast, the prince of flowers, Which thrives in storms, and smells best after showers.

11 Seal not thy eyes up from the poor, but give Proportion to their merits, and thy purse; Thou may'st in rags a mighty prince relieve, Who, when thy sins call for't, can fence a curse.

Thou shalt not lose one mite. Though waters stray, The bread we cast returns in fraughts one day.

12 Spend not an hour so as to weep another, For tears are not thine own; if thou giv'st words, Dash not with them thy friend, nor Heaven; oh, smother A viperous thought; some syllables are swords.

Unbitted tongues are in their penance double; They shame their owners, and their hearers trouble.

13 Injure not modest blood, while spirits rise In judgment against lewdness; that's base wit That voids but filth and stench. Hast thou no prize But sickness or infection? stifle it.

Who makes his jest of sins, must be at least, If not a very devil, worse than beast.

<script>