Warming but as snow-balls do, His Pilgrimaged My staff of faith to walk upon; My bottle of salvation; Blood must be my body's balmer, No other balm will here be given, Travels to the land of heaven, And I there will sweetly kiss In that happy, blissful day, More peaceful pilgrims I shall see, I'll take them first, To slake their thirst; And then taste of nectar suckets, d This has been very much improved by following a copy in the MS. already qnoted, p. 716. At those clear wells Where sweetness dwells, And when our bottles and all we Are fill'd with immortality, Then those holy paths we'll travel Strew'd with rubies thick as gravel ; Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors, High walls of coral, and pearly bowers. From thence to heaven's bribeless hall, Where no corrupted voices brawl, No conscience molten into gold, No forg'd accuser bought or sold, No cause deferr’d, no vainspent journey; For there Christ is the King's attorney, Who pleads for all without degrees, And he hath angels, but no fees. And when the grand twelve million jury Of our sins, with direful fury, 'Gainst our souls black verdicts give, Christ pleads his death, and then we live. Be Thou my speaker, taintless pleader, Unblotted lawyer, true proceeder, Thou giv’st salvation even for alms, Not with a bribed lawyer's palms. Then this is mine eternal plea, To him that made heaven, earth, and sea, Seeing my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, Just at the stroke of death, my arms being spread, Set on my soul an everlasting head. So shall I ready, like a palmer fit, Tread those bless'd paths shown in thy holy writ. Of death and judgment, heaven and hell, Who oft doth think, must needs die welle ! - These two concluding lines not in the Rawlinson MS. The Farewell. [The following poem has been given as written by Sir Walter RALEGH, the night before his execution; but it had already appeared in “ Davison's “ Rhapsody," in 1608f; and is also to be found in a MS. collection of Poems in the British Museum, which has the date of 1596.] Go, soul, the body's guest, Upon a thankless errand; The truth shall be thy warrant. It is printed by.“ Davison” with many variations. The Lie. Upon a thankless errand; Go, since I needs must die, Go, since I needs must die, Go, tell the court it glows, And shines like painted wood; Go, tell the church it shews What's good, but does no good. Tell age it daily wasteth; Tell honour how it alters; And as they shall reply, Tell wit how much it wrangles In tickle points of niceness; And when they do reply, Straight give them both the lie. Tell skill it is prevention; And as they do reply, Tell fortune of her blindness; Tell nature of decay; And if they will reply, Tell arts they have no soundness, But vary by esteeming; If arts and schools reply, Tell faith it's fled the city; Tell how the country erreth; So when thou hast, as I Commanded thee, done blabbing; Stab at thee, he that will, If court and church reply, Give court and church the lie. Tell potentates, they live Acting, but I their actions! If potentates reply, Tell men of high condition, That rule affairs of state, And if they do reply, Tell those that brave it most, They beg for more by spending; And if they make reply, Tell zeal it lacks devotion ; Tell love it is but lust; And wish them not reply, Tell age it daily wasteth; Tell honour how it alters ; And as they do reply, |