Part 92 (1/2)

Our present tears here, not our present laughter, Are but the handsels of our joys hereafter.

_Handsels_, earnest money, foretaste.

91. SIN AND STRIFE.

After true sorrow for our sins, our strife Must last with Satan to the end of life.

92. AN ODE, OR PSALM TO G.o.d.

Dear G.o.d, If Thy smart rod Here did not make me sorry, I should not be With Thine or Thee In Thy eternal glory.

But since Thou didst convince My sins by gently striking; Add still to those First stripes new blows, According to Thy liking.

Fear me, Or scourging tear me; That thus from vices driven, I may from h.e.l.l Fly up to dwell With Thee and Thine in heaven.

93. GRACES FOR CHILDREN.

What G.o.d gives, and what we take, 'Tis a gift for Christ, His sake: Be the meal of beans and peas, G.o.d be thanked for those and these: Have we flesh, or have we fish, All are fragments from His dish.

He His Church save, and the king; And our peace here, like a spring, Make it ever flouris.h.i.+ng.

94. G.o.d TO BE FIRST SERVED.

Honour thy parents; but good manners call Thee to adore thy G.o.d the first of all.

95. ANOTHER GRACE FOR A CHILD.

Here a little child I stand Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall On our meat and on us all. Amen.

_Paddocks_, frogs.

96. A CHRISTMAS CAROL SUNG TO THE KING IN THE PRESENCE AT WHITEHALL.

_Chor._ What sweeter music can we bring, Than a carol for to sing The birth of this our heavenly King?

Awake the voice! awake the string!

Heart, ear, and eye, and everything Awake! the while the active finger Runs division with the singer.

_FROM THE FLOURISH THEY CAME TO THE SONG._

1. Dark and dull night, fly hence away And give the honour to this day That sees December turn'd to May.

2. If we may ask the reason, say The why and wherefore all things here Seem like the spring-time of the year.

3. Why does the chilling winter's morn Smile like a field beset with corn?

Or smell like to a mead new shorn, Thus, on the sudden?

4. Come and see The cause, why things thus fragrant be: 'Tis He is born, whose quick'ning birth Gives life and l.u.s.tre, public mirth, To heaven and the under-earth.