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The sprits of th' aire may beare a burden light,
Whose course impulsive sometimes makes it known;
The aire enflam'd (when Phoebus takes the height)
Is apt to burne, and flames by it are blowne;
Or, since of late, so to delude the sight,
They borrow'd shapes (if wanting of their owne)
All may be forc'd of bodies to admit,
As loads, or jayls, for suffring onely fit.

The Devill was bound a thousand yeares time past, | Flames' torrent doth but drowne, not burne the Hell,
And shall for ever live in chains at last.
And, at a height, can neither sinke nor swell.
One fire for all shall here God's power expresse,
Which doth from divers diversly extort;
So heats the Sunne, though all alike it presse,
As bodies are dispos'd, or can comport;
And, things combustible, burne more or lesse,
As dry, or humid, in a sundry sort :
Thus severall paines each damned soule endures,
As (aptly tempering) guiltinesse procures.
And that their suff'rings may augment the more,
When fully capable of being pin'd,
The Lord each sense and member doth restore,
(Enabling so the lame, the deafe, the blinde)
To every one that wanted them before,
That they of paine the greatest height may finde:
At least to show their griefe each tortur'd soule
Must then have eyes to weepe, a tongue to howle.

As soules (whil'st here) have beene to bodies bound,
And when next joyn'd shall never part againe;
By fire's condensed flames in Hell's vast round,
Ill sprits at last imbodied may remaine,
Which both may strictly presse, and deeply wound,
A weight, a prison, so redoubling paine:
They if thus match'd, have but a passive part,
Who burn'd, not warm'd, do onely live to smart.
How farre doth this transcend the reach of wit,
That bodies then continually shall burne,
Yet not diminish, whil'st on flames they sit,
But though quite swallow'd, not to dust do turne;
That racks their course no moment intermit,
Yet cau a wretch not dye, but lives to mourne?
Dea h still doth wound, but hath no power to kill,
They want his good, and onely have his ill.

I have beheld a cheating fellow stand,
To sell some oyle that he reserv'd in store,
And in the presence of a thronging band,
By vertue of some drug was us'd before,
In melted lead straight boldly rush his hand,
Then fall downe groveling, as to move no more:
Yet quickly rose by cosening art kept sound,
As if strange vertue in his oyle were found.

If man (weake man) by meanes of question'd art,
May fortifie against the force of heat,
That ye may suffer thus, and yet not smart;
May not the Lord (omnipotently great)
A quality (when as he list) impart,
To all the guests of Pluto's ugly seat:
That (freez'd in fire) they burne yet not decay,
Do pine, not dye, as monsters every way?

[move;

What us'd to waste, not having power to warme,
Of three that were amid'st a fornace plac'd,
No member, fire, nó, not one haire did harme,
By raging flames, though every where embrac'd:
The Lord their force did so in secret charme,
That they (as set in gold) his servants grac'd;
And in such sort when pleas'd himselfe to serve,
By ruine's engines he can thus preserve.
That force of fire did not effectuall prove,
Elias' body did with pompe display,
A winglesse weight whil'st it through th' aire did
Th' earth divers times her burden did betray,
By swallowing that which she did beare above;
And Peter's feet on flouds found solid way:
Each element we see when God directs,
To nature contrary can breed effects.
Fire's torturing power, in the Tartarian cave,
Doth need for help no irritating blast,
And wanting food no excrement can have;
For fed by nothing, it doth nothing waste;
An ominous torch in Pluto's gaping grave,
Not more, nor lesse, it still alike doth last;

That faculty inhabiting the braine,
Though once a comfort now becomes a crosse,
The onely meanes that can bring time againe,
Though serving but to cast accounts of losse;
The nurse of knowledge, universall chaine,
Which in small bounds all kind of things can tosse;
It was a mirrour to direct the mind,

But then, damn'd soules to suffer more doth bind.
Those sinnes that once so pleasant did appeare,
The dandled idols of a doating heart,

Then all the ugly fiends that stand them neare,
More hatefull now doe make the wretches smart,
Who curst themselves that could such guests hold
deare,

Though no remorse, what griefe doth this impart !
First looking backe, then on their present state,
When they must thinke what they had bin of late.
They finde those pleasures that did them betray,
As dreames and shadowes, readie to descend,
Even, in imbracing, vanishing away,

A fancie first, an extasie in end,
Whose vanity the issue did bewray,

Hopes left farre short of what they did attend;
And all enticements that to this alur'd,
A loathing still or wearinesse procur'd

They now remember every time and place,
That by their meanes a mischiefe was devis'd,
And how they needs would madly runne their race,
All admonitions scornefully despis'd;

They proudly quensh'd the sparkes of kindling grace,
And hated them that any good advis'd,
Then laugh'd at them as most ridiculous fooles,
That sought to learne when having left the schooles.

Of counsels past that any parent gave,
A schoole master, a preacher, or a friend;
Each circumstance now fresh in mind they have,
And how that then it highlie did offend, [save,
When meanes were us'd that they their soules might
Who did to ruine obstinately tend:
They loath'd instruction, and rebukes did hate,
As which (thus tax'd) their value did abate.
Some words that entered at a carelesse eare,
And in the minde could no impression make,
That they in judgment true record might beare,
Then in the soule a secret seate did take,
Which now (discovered) cruelly they teare,
When (out of time still) making it looke back :

"Neglected warnings must remembred be,

At last to binde, since first they could not free."
Whilst restlesse wormes doe gnaw the minde within,
Externall torments racking other parts,
Some fiend beside that had provok'd their sinne,
(What treacherous guest to harbour in men's
To aggravate their anguish doth beginne, [hearts!)
And though with them in like estate he smarts;
Yet wonted malice making silence breake,
He thus upbrayding them may chance to speake.
“What travells huge have I for you indur'd,
By bending all my meanes of power and skill,
That satisfaction might be so procur'd,
For every wish of yours (though changing still)
In pleasure's deepes ye lay by me secur'd,
Who both directed and obey your will;
And as ye earst would not abandon mee,
In spite of paine I shall your partner bee.
"All what ye crav'd was compast by my care,
Who onely labour'd to content your mind;
There wanted not a creature that was fayre,
When curious thoughts to wantonnesse inclin'd;
While kindling wrath for vengeance did prepare,
A titt occasion was by me design'd:
To make you rich how many have beene spoil'd,
That you might idle be whilst still I toil'd?

"And your contentment was to me so deare,
That when some striv'd your courses to restraine,
I would not let you their perswasions heare,
But made the preacher spend his power in vaine,
And still (obsequiously attending neare)
What was suggested ready to maintaine;
Your purposes to such perfection brought,
That of all men you were most happie thought.
"Since ye for joy have oft almost been mad,
Of which some taste, ye cannot but reserve,
What wonder now though ye againe be sad,
Who justly suffer what ye did deserve?
But I who never any pleasure had,
And as a drudge for you did onely serve:
Why am I punish'd by superior powers?
The torment which I feele should all be yours.
"Degener'd soules (though once by God belov'd)
That would descend to such a base degree,
1 you to please, have thus too carefull prov'd,
And from an angell daign'd your slave to be,
Yet, most ingrate, ye (with my griefe not mov'd)
Doe moane your selves, and never pitty me:
Just indignation bath so strongly seiz'd,
I must revenge, but cannot be appeas'd."

These monsters straight to plague all meanes doe

ply,

[ring; Whil'st ratling chaines make all Hell's dungeons The crawling globes of clustring serpents flye, And at an instant both doe lash and sting; In vessels then from deeps that never dry, The scalding sulphure they with fury fling: Who can imagine how the wretches mourne, By flouds and flames, that both must boyle and burne? A wooden body, membred all with hands, (When digging seas) of this an embleme showes, Of groaning captives whil'st a band in bands, To suffer sure, no hope of guerdon knowes, Whil'st them above, their proud commander stands, With threatning words, fierce looks, and cruell blowes: VOL V.

They lesse then servants, worse then beasts, are slaves :

"The gallye's fall is lower then the graves."

All kinde of paines that mortalls can comprise,
The least below exceedingly exceed;
The bed that rack'd all whom it did surprise;
The stalles whereas each horse man's flesh did feed;
The bull, and all that tyrants did devise,
Which yet in mindes (when nam'd) must horrour
breed,

They all (if joyn'd) could not such paine import,
As in the Hell's one moment can extort.

But yet all paines which corporall plagues impose
On senses fraile, dispatching life in post,
Are as in time, by measure short of those,
Which must at last defray sinne's fatall cost,
Whil'st ravenous thoughts (excluded from repose)
Doe oft revolve what happinesse they lost:
The minde would wish a lethargy in vaine,
That it eclips'd might never cleare againe.

They now remember then, when forc'd to part,
(The sentence given, and execution crav'd)
From Christ's bright face, which with a heavy heart
They first did see, as by the object brav’d;
What height of glory he did straight impart,
To happy bands that by his bloud were sav'd:
When this the wicked have with envy seene,
It makes them marke what they might once have
beene.

The parts earst knowne, they many times compare,
With these below where they in anguish lye;
Their recreations taken in the ayre,
Whil'st Heaven for prospect ravish did the eye;
Their walkes on fields adorn'd with beauties rare,
Whose crystall flouds did emulate the skie,
And all the creatures both by sea and land,
Which they for use or pleasure might command.

Since here fraile things, where man from glory fell,
And must to toyles his servile strength imploy,
For all perfections which doe thus excell,
A weeke did make, a moment doth destroy;
This little cottage, where poore slaves doe dwell,
This fatall prison, farre from reall joy;

If it (base earth) in beauty doth abound,
All pav'd with greene, with gold and azure crown'd,

How gorgeous then must that faire building prove,
Of endlesse glory which doth lodge the king;
By whom all creatures that have life doe move,
From whom all goodnesse and true worth doth
To whom enstall'd in crystall seats above,
spring;
A quire of angels Hallelujah sing;
Then they imagine (which doth grieve them more)
What hoasts of saints their Soveraign doe adore.

And what their judgement cannot apprehend,
Like birds of darknesse, feeble in the light,
Their ancient lord on whom they did depend,
Who oft by lyes had drawn them from the right,
He now tels truth, but with as bad an end,
To doe them mischiefe bending all his might:
"No greater falsehood malice can conceive,
Then truth to tell, of purpose to deceive."
Dd

He then at large doth labour to dilate
What was observ'd in Heaven before his fall,
While he (a creature mighty in the state)
Mark'd by his betters, was to envy thrall,
And showes the glory there to be more great,
Then can be thought, farre lesse express'd at all,
And for their losse, them with more griefe to charge,
If possibly he could, he would enlarge.

Thus doe they weigh their losse with fancies strong,
Which was at first so easie to prevent;
Then tell to Satan how (suggesting wrong)
He for their ruine had been alwaies bent,
And like a traitor had abus'd them long,
Till now in end made kuowne by the event:
And yet with them amidst one furnace throwne,
He mockes their paine, though mourning for his owne.
Loe, in this world, men of the stronger sort,
To scape from death, or some disgrace they feare,
Can frustrate justice that would truth extort,
And, when press'd downe, more high their courage
Yea, constantly with tortures can comport, [reare,
Not daigning once a word, a sigh, a teare:
"With divers engines, though sterne paine assailes,
A generous patience, joyn'd with hope, prevailes."
But all the fires which still are burning there,
Where every one a severall torment pines,
Doe no way thaw the frosts of cold despaire,
Whose raging course no season then confines;
No limits are allotted unto care,

To give them ease, no kinde of comfort shines:
And though they finde a weight of huge distresse,
Hope dares not promise that it shall be lesse.

What height of horrour must this justly breed,
To meditate upon the last decree?

How that the wicked, whom vaine pleasures feed,
(By Death disclaym'd) must still tormented be?
That which they suffer, doth all bounds exceed,
In time, in measure, and in each degree,
So that they oft most earnestly desire,
That like to beasts, their being might expire.

Some fondly dream'd a superstitious lye,
And for Hell's paines, a period did attend,
Though Christ's owne words the contrary imply,
"Goe, get you gone to fires that never end;
Their shame still lasts, their worme doth never dye,
Their torments' smoake for ever doth ascend :
And all of this, that sacred writs report,
The paine perpetuall clearely doth import.

Though as the wicked wickedly have wrought,
Each one of them a due reward shall have,
And when before the Lord in judgement brought,
Shall get againe the measure that they gave;
Yet is their doome by some too rigorous thought,
Who on God's justice would aspersions leave:
And thinke at this they justly may repine,
For temporall faults eternally to pine.

Those that did come to worke in Christ's vine-yard,
All, as in time, in merit differ might,
Yet did at last enjoy the like reward,
All having more, none lesse, then was his right;
So those in Hell whom Sathen gets to guard,
How ever come, are still entomb'd in night:
As Dracon's lawes for every fault gave death,
Each sinner doth deserve eternall wrath.

But justice still to goodnesse would direct,
And sparingly sterne rigour doth extend,
To cut them off, that others might infect,
That one's example many may amend;
Not bent to ruine, onely to correct,

All punish'd are, conforme as they offend:
And none give doomes more cruell then the crimes,
Save fearefull tyrants at suspected times.

If that great King who all the world doth judge,
Damne every one who from the light did stray,
In endlesse shadowes dririly to lodge,
Salt flouds of griefe inunding every way ;
It seemes to some that they have cause to grudge,
Who trifling things so dearely doe defray,
Still suffer must intollerable paine.
And for short joyes which but a time did staine,

The greater reverence doth from men require ;
This from God's judgement derogating nought,
He markes both what they will'd, and what they
From wickednesse that never would retire
wrought,
And if they could have compass'd their desire,
Till drawn by death, yea still more time they sought,
Their filthy aymes affecting things uncleane,
As boundlesse then, had likewise endlesse beene.

The hand may kill, and yet from bloud be free,
Whil'st casualty, not cruelty, doth arme,
And many times the heart may guilty be,
Though being hindred from inflicting harme;
The lord of it that every thought doth see,
When vanity or violence doth charme;
He verdict gives according to their will,
Though never acting, if affecting ill.

He knew how much they mischiefe did intend,
That vice's current death did onely stay,
Which otherwise had never had an end,
As oft their wishes vainely did bewray;
They who to sinne did all their strength extend,
Should suffer now what possibly they may:
Since him they wrong'd by all the meanes they might,
God punish may with all his power of right.

Loe, treason makes them whom it doth convict,
To loose all that they have, yea, urging more,
Doth on their off-spring punishments inflict,
Whose tainted bloud time never can restore :
This sentence then cannot be counted strict,
In torments still, which makes the wicked roare:
It onely plagues themselves, but none of theirs,
Who to themselves in misery are heires.

These fearefull tyrants, (jealous of their state)
Who would by rigour fright the world from change;
They who did use (the Christian to abate)
In persecutions executions strange;
The inquisition raging now of late,
Whom with the worst we may (as cruell) range;
To one in Hell, can no way neare arrive.
The torments that they did all three contrive,

Not onely are both soule and body pin'd,
By sympathie which mutuall paine imparts,
But each one suffers in a severall kinde,
Sprits from within, and from without the hearts ;
Though much the body, more to racke the minde,
New engines are devis'd by which it smarts,

Whose sprituall tortures, soules asunder draw,
Worse than the worme that inwardly doth gnaw.

If these againe were to beginne their race,
And by their carriage, freedome could procure,
What course so strange that they would not embrace?
No charming pleasure could them then allure;
Even sicknesse, torment, poverty, disgrace,
They, whil'st alive, would willingly endure;
Yea, though their life a thousand yeares should last,
So that their griefe might end when it were past.

And if they would doe this to scape from paine,
Though otherwise the Lord should them neglect,
What would they doe that happinesse to gaine,
Which is design'd for them that are elect?
That they for ever might in Heaven remaine,
As those whom God most dearely doth affect;
Iob's suffrings all for this would small appeare,
Though multipli'd so long as they were here.

You who as yet doe draw this common ayre,
And have the meanes salvation to acquire,
Now whil'st the season doth continue faire,
Provide against the storme of swelling ire;
To compasse this extend industrious care,
Before the hasting tearme of grace expire:
That treasure which we should so much esteeme,
All now may have, none can when lost redeeme.

Loose not your thoughts in fancie's fields to stray,
Lest charming pleasures doe the judgement blinde,
Which reason's fort to vanity betray,
And (weakening vertue) molifie the minde;
Then ouely leave (when vanishing away)
Remorse, or shame, or wearinesse behinde :
As drunke, or mad, or dreaming at the best,
Fooles thus may rave, but never soundly rest.

Remember that the bounds where we remaine,
Was given to man when as from God he fell,
Not for delight, but in a high disdaine,
Were damn'd to dye, that he a wretch might dwell;
Here first to plague him with continuall paine,
When barr'd from Eden, this was Adam's Hell,
As Hell at last shall be to all his race,
Who proudly sinne, and doe not seek for grace.
And let none thinke (reducing Heaven's decree)
That they can make this mansion of annoyes,
(As if a Paradise) from trouble free,
A ground for rest, a lodging fit for joyes;
Though numbers (smooth'd with showes) deluded be,
In place of reall good, affecting toyes:
This is the lists where all a proofe must give,
Who,suffring here, more blest when hence shall live.
Loe, thousands oft where dangers are most rife,
With honour, fortune, or what else held deare,
To all death's engines dare expose their life,
Whil'st losse and travell, pleasure doe appeare,
And all the end expected by this strife,
Is but to gaine some towne, or fortresse neare,
Which in their fury, with confusion foil'd,
Is raz'd, ere gayn'd, and soone thereafter spoil'd.
And should not we our whole endeavours bend,
To force that city which triumphs above?
Which doth invite, and not it selfe defend,
With sacred armes, if we couragious prove;
No furniture is needfull for this end,
But patience, hope, faith, charity, and love:

And all who doe this holy city gaine,
Shall there for ever (crown'd with glory) raigue.

My Muse, abandoning the Stygian bounds,
Which nought but griefe and horrour can afford,
Would gladly mount above the crystall rounds,
To celebrate the glory of the Lord.

Who by his bounteous pow'r with angels' sounds
My humble accents sweetly may accord,
And me at length amidst that quire may bring,
Where I desire eternally to sing.

DOOMES-DAY;

OR,

THE GREAT DAY OF THE LORD'S IVDGMENT.

THE TWELFTH HOURE.

THE ARGUMENT.

The height of joy the cleared soules attends;
The earth and sea suppos'd are new to be;
The new Ierusalem from Heaven descends,
Where still to dwell God doth with men agree;
The heavenly blisse, all humane sense transcends,
Which saints attaine when thus from trouble free;
The joyes of Heaven for blessed soules prepar'd,
Are pointed at but cannot be declar'd.

TH' eares have not heard, nor the eyes have never [thought;

seen

The joyes of Heaven, more great then can be
To touch my lippes, that stain'd so oft have been,
Lord, from thine altar, let a coale be brought;
Make me cast off what ever is uncleane,
That sacred grounds with reverence may be sought;
Thy inner temple let thy servant see,
Where of things holy, the most holy be.

What glorious change doth dazle thus mine eye?
In place of th' earth where miseries are rife,
The torturing racke that did man's patience try,
With wasting travels, and dividing strife,
Who (by these labours) did but dearely buy
Terrestriall things fit for a temporall life:
I see an earth that greater pleasure yeelds,
Then Gentiles dream'd in their Elysian fields.

Time (as for sport) now quickly deckes and spoiles
This passive ground, which alwaies worke requires,
To punish man (as sentenc'd first) with toiles,
The meanes by which his maint'nance he acquires,
Whil'st sometime barren, sometime fertile soiles,
Give joy, or griefe, with agues of desires:
Still fighting with the same, till yeeld he must,
A fettred captive humbled in the dust.

We daily see the Earth (doe what we can)
How it the cares of wretched worldlings scornes,
(Bloud-colour'd furrowes frowning upon man)
Her vapours poison, and she prickes with thornes;
But now farre from that state which first began,
It (which the Lord as his delight adornes)
Is (alwaies faire) much chang'd from what before,
A virgin now, not violable more.

Then Eden's garden growne more glorious farre,
Her fruits she freely in abundance baings, [warre,
No more the lists where blustring stormes make
With killing winters, and with quickning springs;
A constant course still kept no kinde of jarre
Shall then disturbe the generall peace of things;
Milde zephire's gentle breath more sweetly smels,
Then Indian odours, or what most excels.

No threatning cloud, all charg'd with haile-stones,
lowres;
[growes,
Then silke dy'd greene the grasse more pleasant
When bath'd with liquid pearles, not blansh'd with
No raging floud her tender face oreflowes, [showrs,
Whose bosome all embroidered is with flowres,
Not nature's worke, nor art's that man bestowes:
The curious knots and plots most prais'd below,
To figure this, can no resemblance show.

There white's perfection, embleme of things pure,
The lightning lilies, beautie's colours reare,
And blushing roses modestly allure,

As which of shamefastnesse the badge doe beare;
Of violets the purple doth endurė,

The noyse is musicke, when their course ought
As mounts of diamonds, of rubies rockes, [chockes,
All countries purchase now with strangers' spoiles,
Even what is daily us'd to cloath or feed,
And that with many mercenary toiles
Though but superfluous, not the things we need,
But as each place had quintessenc'd all soiles,
It what can be desir'd doth freely breed :
The honey there from every flower may flow,
And on each reed taste-pleasing sugars grow.
The mountaines that so long have hid their store,
May turne without what was within before,
Lest avarice their bowels might have torne,
Free from deforming rockes, and pestring thorne,
Whil'st silver fin'd from the confining ore,
And veynes of perfect gold, their breasts adorne;
All cloath'd with metalls thus, they shining bright,
And deck'd with jewels, may seeme flames of light.
O what brave prospect would these hils impart,
If this new earth were to perfection brought,
Not dress'd by nature, nor by creeping art,
But by the Lord miraculously wrought,

Though pale they seem to hide their heads for feare: With rarities enrich'd in every part,

As if extracted out of all the three,
The gilly-flower a quint-essence may be.

These with all else that here most rare have beene,
In smell or show, the scent or sight to feed,
Have gorgeous garments of eternall greene,
And eminently emulously breed,

With many sorts that we have never seene,
Which for excellencies these farre exceed:
They (mix'd in workes) mosaically grow,
And yet each part doth every kinde bestow.

Though here no hearb shall need for health nor food,
Where neither hunger can nor sicknesse be,
Yet there shall want no creatures that are good,
Since with God's glory this doth best agree;
His wisedome by his workes is understood,
Whose daily wonders all the world may see:
That earth no doubt we shall most perfect view,
Since (this quite rav'd) he makes the same all new.

O! what excellency endeeres all things?
For store, not use, for pleasure, not for gaine,
Th' earth dainty fruits still in abundance brings,
Which never fade, nor doe fall downe in vaine,
And even as one is pluck'd, another springs ;
No leafe is lost, no, nor no way doth staine:
The orangers not singular then be,
Where fruit and flourish garnish every tree.

In walkes distinguish'd, trees some grounds may
With divers baits inviting smell and taste, [grace,
Then (as indented) differing sorts a space,
In groves grown thicker, would a shadow cast,
And them betwixt the playnes in every place,
Are dainty gardens which doe alwaies last
In more perfection, then all these attain'd,
Which art or nature made, or fancy fayn'd.

Meandring rivers smoothly smiling passe,
And whil'st they (lover-like) kisse courted lands,
Would emulate the emerauld-like grasse,

All pav'd with pearle, empall'd with golden sands;
To make a mirrour of their moving glasse,
For usual creatures, angels come in bands:

Above the reach of the most curious thought?
The ayre is all but smels of pretious things,
And with melodious sounds, sweet musicke brings.

It may be, all that Eden could afford,
Ere sinne's contagious seed it first did staine,
Shall be with increase to this earth restor'd,
In more excellency then wit can fayne;
And, O, who knowes but it may please the Lord
To cast the same in other moulds againe,
And creatures make such qualities receive,
As we, till glorifi'd, cannot conceive?

As they encreas'd, constrained to disperse,
When people parted farre in sundry bands,
The deeps then onely did afford commerce,
(By sparing feet, all travelling with hands,)
That distant states together might converse,
Firme ground for ships, a liquid bridge 'twixt lands:
Thus her vast desert, meanes for traffique yeelds,
And with least labour, hath most fertile fields.

But now things to export, or to import,
There needs no sea, facilitating gaine,
All may their bodies where they please transport,
Not fearing danger, nor not feeling paine;
Yet may some depth, though in another sort,
To decke the earth, an ornament remaine:
Or as a glasse where soules themselves may see,
Whil'st beautie's wonders there reflected be.
By contemplation (farre from mortals led)
I thinke I see a sea, a moving ground,
(Not from the clouds by secret conducts fed)
In azure fields, as emeraulds had been drown'd,
Or melted saphirs on an amber bed,

Which rockes of pearle, and corall banks doe bound:
It seems this Heaven, or else like stuffe and forme,
Is layd below, all starres, and free from storme.

How weakely doth my Muse this taske pursue,
With strengthlesse lines such lofty things to sound?
Much lesse can tell, what beauties shall abound,
I scarce can comprehend that which I view,
When as the Lord doth this worne earth renue,
Heaven's treasures then embelishing the ground:

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