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Look in, and see each blissful Deity,
Then Ens is represented as Father of
the Predicaments bis ten Sons, wbereof the eldest food for Sub
stance with his Canons ; which Ens, ., thus speaking, explains. Goof OOD luck befriend thee, Son; for at thy
birth The Fairy Ladies danc'd upon the hearth ; Thy drowsie Nurse hath sworn, she did them spie Come tripping to the Room where thou didft lie; And sweetly finging round about thy Bed, Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head. (stif! She heard them give thee this, that thou should'ft From eyes of mortals walk invisible: Yet there is something, that doth force my fear ; For once it was my dismal hap to hear A Sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age, That far Events full wisely could prefage, And in Time's long and dark Prospective Glass Fore-law what future days fhould bring to pass : Your Son, said she, (nor can you it prevent) Shall subject be to many an Accident; O'er all his Brethren he shall reign as King, Yet every one Mall make him underling ; And those, that cannot live from him asunder, Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under : In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, Yet being above them, he hall be below them ;
From others he shall stand in need of nothing,
The next Quantity and Quality spake in Prose, then Relation was
call’d by his name.
IVERS, arise; whether thou be the Son
Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphie Dun,
The rest was Profe.
In wintry folstice like the Morten'd light, Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-living night.
II. For now to forrow must I tune my song, And fet my Harp to notes of saddest woe, Which on our deareft Lord did seize ere long, (fo, Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than Which he for us did freely undergo;
Most perfect Heroe, try'd in heaviest plight Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight.
III. He sov'reign Priest stooping his regal head That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes, Poor fieshly Tabernacle entered, His itarry front low-rooft beneath the skies; O what a mask was there, what a disguise!
Yet more; the stroke of death he must abide, Then lies him meekly down fast by his Brethrens
IV. These latter fçenes confine my roving verse, To this Horizon is my Pbæbus bound:. His Godlike acts, and his temptations fierce, And former sufferings, otherwhere are found; Loud o'er the reft Cremona's Trump doth sound:
Me softer airs befit, and softer strings Of Lute, or Viol ftill, more apt for mournful things,
V. Befriend me, Night, best Patroness of grief, Over the Pole thy thickest mantle throw, And work my flatter'd fancy to belief, That Heav'n and earth are colour'd with my wo; My sorrows are too dark for day to know :
The leaves should all be black whereon I write, And letters, where my tears have walht, a wannith white,
There doth my Soul in holy vision fit