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Uplace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now it is bed-time.
Oft with that happy busk, which I envý,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off such beauteous state reveals,
As when thro'flow'ry meads th' hill's shadow steals.
Off with that weary coroner, and show
The hairy diadem which on your head doth grow.
Now off with those shoes, and then softly tread
In this Love's hallow'd temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven's angels us'd to be
Reveald to men; thou 'angel bring'st wiili thee
A heav'n like Mah'met's paradise; and thos
III spirits walk in white, we eas'ly knowy
By this these angels from an evil sprite;
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.

License my roaring hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O my America! my Newfoundland !
My kingdom 's safest when with one man mann'd.
My mine of precious stones! my empery!
How am I blest in this discovering thee! 39
To enter in these bonds is io be free;
Thea where my hand is set my seal shall be.

Full nakedness! all joys are due to thee;
A's' souls unbodied bodies uncloth'd must be,
To tasłe whole joys. Gems, which you women use,
Are, like Atlanta'š ball, cast in men's views;

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That when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul inay court that and not them:
Like pictures or like books' gay, coverings made,
For lay-men are all women thus array'd.

Themselves are only mystic books, which we
(Whom their imputed grace will dignify)
Must see reveal'd Then since that I may know,
As liberally as to thy midwife show
Thyself, cast all, yea, this white linen, hence:
There is no penance due to innocence.

To teach thee I am naked first; why, then,
Whai need'st thou have more covering than a man? 48

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ANATOMY OF THE WORLD. Wberein, by occasion of the untimely death of Mrs. Elizabeth

Drury, lbe frailty and ibe decay of this whole world is ren presentede


To the Praise of the Dead, and the Anatomy.

Well died the world, that we might live to see
This world of wit in his Anatomie :
No evil wants his good; so wilder heirs
Bedew their fathers' tombs with forced tears,
Whose-state requites their loss. While thus we gain,
Well may' we walk in blacks, but not complain.
Yet how can I consent; the world is dead
While this Muse lives? which in his spirit's stead
Seems to inform a world, and bids it be,
In spite of loss or frail mortality.
And thou the subject of this well-born thought,
Thrice noble Maid! could t not have found nor'sought
A filter time to yield to thy sad fale
Than while this spirit lives that can relate
T'hý worth so well to our last nephew's eyne,
That they shall wonder both at his and thine.


Admired match! where strives in mutual grace 2022
The cunning pencil and the comely face; apoi PT
A task which thy fait goodness made too much 911
For the bold pride of vulgar pens to touch.x*i 941 ki te
Enough it is to praise them that praise thee,
"And say that but enough those praises bé,
Which, hađšt thou lived, had hid their fearful head
From th' angry checkings of thy modest red.
Death bars reward and shame; when envy's gone
And gain, 'tis safe to give the dead their own
As then the wise Egyptians wont to lay
More on their tombs than houses, these of clay,
But those of brass or marble were; so we
Give more unto thy ghost ihan unto thee: 30
Yet what we give to thee thou gav'st to us,
And may'st but thank thyself for being thus :
Yet what thou gav'st and wert, О happy maid!
Thy grace profess'd all due where 'tis repaid.
So these high songs that to thee suited bin,
Serve but to sound thy Maker's praise and thine,
Which thy dear soul as sweetly sings to him,
Amid the choir of saints and seraphim,
As any angel's tongue can sing of thee;
The subjects differ, tho' the skill agree;
For as by infant years men judge of age,
Thy early love thy virtues did presage
What high part thou bear'st in those best of songs; ".
Whereto no burden nor no end belongs. -*!****

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Sing en, 'thou virgin soul! whose lošsful gain
Thy love-sick parents have bewail'd in vain;
Never may thy name be in songs forgot
Till we shallsing thy ditty and thy note.



When that rich soul; which to her heav'n is gone,
Whom all do celebrate who know they 'ave one,
(For who is sure he hath a soul, unless
It see, and judge, and follow worthiness;
And by deeds praise it ? he who doth not this
May lodge an inmate soul, but'tis not his)
When that queen ended here het progress time,
And as t'her standing house to heav'n did climb,
Where, loth to make the saints attend her long,
She's now a part both of the choir and song:

This world in that great earthquake languished,
For in a common bath of tears it bled,
Which drew the strongest vital spirits out,
But succour'd them with a perplexed doubt
Whether the world did lose or gain in this;
(Because since now no other way there is
But goodness, to see her whom all would see,
All must endeavour to be good as she). -
This great consumption to a fever turn'd,
And so the world had fits; 'it joy’d; it mourn'd;
Volume III


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