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To conquer still; peace hath her victories 10 No less renown’d than war: new foes arise Threatning to bind our souls with secular chains :

Help us to save free conscience from the paw Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw.

XVII.
To Sir HENRY VAN E the younger.
Vane, young in years, but in sage counsel old,

Than whom a better senator ne'er held
The helm of Rome, when gowns not arms repell’d

The fierce Epirot and the African bold,
Whether to settle peace, or to unfold

The drift of hollow states hard to be spellid, Than to advise how war may best upheld Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, In all her equipage: besides to know

9 Both spiritual pow'r and civil, what each means, What severs each, thou hast learn’d, which few have Thebounds of eithersword to theewe owe: (done: Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son.

XVIII.
On the late massacre in PIEMONT.
Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones

Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold;
Ev’n them who kept thy truth fo pure of old,

When

When all our fathers worshipt stocks and stones,
Forget not: in thy book record their groans 5

Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold
Slain by the bloody Piemontese that rollid
Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans
The vales redoubled to the hills, and they
To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and alhes sow 10

O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth fway
The triple Tyrant; that from these may grow

A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way.
Early may fly the Babylonian woe.

XIX.

On his BLINDNESS.
When I consider how my light is spent :

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide,

Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present 5

My true account, lest he returning chide; ·
Doth God exact day-labor, light deny'd,

I fondly ask : But patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts; who best 10

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him beft: his state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.

To

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XX.
To Mr. LAWRENCE.
Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son,

Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire,
Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire,

Help waste a fullen day, what may be won . From the hard season gaining? time will run 5

On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire

The lilly’and rose, that neither sow'd nor spun. What neat repaft shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise 10

To hear the lute well touch’d, or artful voice Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air?

He who of those delights can judge, and spare
To interpose them oft, is not unwise.

XXI.
To CYRIAC SKIN NE R.
Cyriac, whose gransire on the royal bench

Of British Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounc'd and in his volumes taught our laws,

Which others at their bar so often wrench;
To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench 5

In mirth, that after no repenting draws;
Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,

And what the Swede intends, and what the French. To measure life learn thou betimes, and know 9

To

Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;

For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains, And disapproves that care, though wise in show,

That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And when God sends a chearful hour, refrains.

XXII.

To the same. Cyriac, this three years day these eyes, though clear,

To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star throughout the year, 5

Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not

Against Heav’n’s hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?

The conscience, Friend, to’have lost them over

In liberty's defence, my noble task, ply'd Of which all Europe talks from side to side. (mask

This thought might lead me thro’the world's vain Content though blind, had I no better guide.

XXIII.

On his deceased WIFE. Methought I saw my late espoused saint

Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, tho' pale and faint. Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint 5

Purification in the old Law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have

Full sight of her in Heav'n without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:

Her face was veil’d, yet to my fancied sight 10

Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin’d So clear, as in no face with more delight.

But O as to embrace me she inclin’d, I wak’d, she fled, and day brought back my night.

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P Less’d is the man who hath not walk'd astray D In counsel of the wicked, and i'th’way Of finners hath not stood, and in the seat Of scorners hath not sat. But in the great Jehovah's law is ever his delight, And in his law he studies day and night. He shall be as a tree which planted grows By watry streams, and in his season knows To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall, And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 10 Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand In judgment, or abide their trial then,

Nor

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