Part 26

232. GOOD PRECEPTS, OR COUNSEL

In all thy need, be thou possest Still with a well prepared breast; Nor let the shackles make thee sad; Thou canst but have what others had. And this for comfort thou must know, Times that are ill won't still be so: Clouds will not ever pour down rain; A sullen day will clear again. First, peals of thunder we must hear; When lutes and harps shall stroke the ear.

233. PRAY AND PROSPER

First offer incense; then, thy field and meads Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads. The spangling dew dredged o'er the grass shall be Turn'd all to mell and manna there for thee. Butter of amber, cream, and wine, and oil, Shall run as rivers all throughout thy soil. Would'st thou to sincere silver turn thy mould? --Pray once, twice pray; and turn thy ground to gold.

234. THE BELL-MAN

Along the dark and silent night, With my lantern and my light And the tinkling of my bell, Thus I walk, and this I tell: --Death and dreadfulness call on To the general session; To whose dismal bar, we there All accounts must come to clear: Scores of sins we've made here many; Wiped out few, God knows, if any. Rise, ye debtors, then, and fall To make payment, while I call: Ponder this, when I am gone: --By the clock 'tis almost One.

235. UPON TIME

Time was upon The wing, to fly away; And I call'd on Him but awhile to stay; But he'd be gone, For aught that I could say.

He held out then A writing, as he went, And ask'd me, when False man would be content To pay again What God and Nature lent.

An hour-glass, In which were sands but few, As he did pass, He shew'd,--and told me too Mine end near was;-- And so away he flew.

236. MEN MIND NO STATE IN SICKNESS

That flow of gallants which approach To kiss thy hand from out the coach; That fleet of lackeys which do run Before thy swift postilion; Those strong-hoof'd mules, which we behold Rein'd in with purple, pearl, and gold, And shod with silver, prove to be The drawers of the axle-tree; Thy wife, thy children, and the state Of Persian looms and antique plate: --All these, and more, shall then afford No joy to thee, their sickly lord.

237. LIFE IS THE BODY'S LIGHT

Life is the body's light; which, once declining, Those crimson clouds i' th' cheeks and lips leave shining:- Those counter-changed tabbies in the air, The sun once set, all of one colour are: So, when death comes, fresh tinctures lose their place, And dismal darkness then doth smutch the face.

238. TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD

Why, Madam, will ye longer weep, Whenas your baby's lull'd asleep? And, pretty child, feels now no more Those pains it lately felt before.

All now is silent; groans are fled; Your child lies still, yet is not dead, But rather like a flower hid here, To spring again another year.

239. UPON A CHILD THAT DIED

Here she lies, a pretty bud, Lately made of flesh and blood; Who as soon fell fast asleep, As her little eyes did peep. --Give her strewings, but not stir The earth, that lightly covers her.

240. UPON A CHILD

Here a pretty baby lies Sung asleep with lullabies; Pray be silent, and not stir Th' easy earth that covers her.

241. AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD

Virgins promised when I died, That they would each primrose-tide Duly, morn and evening, come, And with flowers dress my tomb. --Having promised, pay your debts Maids, and here strew violets.

242. AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN

Here a solemn fast we keep, While all beauty lies asleep; Hush'd be all things, no noise here But the toning of a tear; Or a sigh of such as bring Cowslips for her covering.

243. UPON A MAID

Here she lies, in bed of spice, Fair as Eve in paradise; For her beauty, it was such, Poets could not praise too much. Virgins come, and in a ring Her supremest REQUIEM sing; Then depart, but see ye tread Lightly, lightly o'er the dead.

244. THE DIRGE OF JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER: SUNG BY THE VIRGINS