2 Most blessed Vine! Whose juice so good I feel as wine, But thy fair branches felt as blood, How wert thou pressed To be my feast! In what deep anguish Didst thou languish! What springs of sweat and blood did drown thee! How in one path Did the full wrath Crowd and gather, Doubling thy griefs, when none would own thee! 3 How did the weight Of all our sins, And death unite To wrench and rack thy blessed limbs! How pale and bloody Looked thy body! How bruised and broke, With every stroke! How meek and patient was thy spirit! How didst thou cry, And groan on high, And let them live! I die to make my foes inherit!' 4 O blessed Lamb! That took'st my sin, That took'st my shame, How shall thy dust thy praises sing? I would I were Then would I bring Thee two small mites, and be at strife My heart or eye, Teaching my years In smiles and tears To weep, to sing, thy death, my life. RULES AND LESSONS. 1 When first thy eyes unvail, give thy soul leave The spirit's duty. True hearts spread and heave Give him thy first thoughts then; so shalt thou keep 2 Yet never sleep the sun up. Prayer should Rise to prevent the sun; sleep doth sins glut, 3 Walk with thy fellow-creatures; note the hush Oh, leave thy cares and follies! go this way, 4 Serve God before the world; let him not go The whole unto him, and remember who 5 Mornings are mysteries; the first world's youth, Shroud in their births; the crown of life, light, truth Three blessings wait upon them, two of which 6 When the world's up, and every swarm abroad, Which must be carried on, and safely may. Yet keep those cares without thee, let the heart 7 Through all thy actions, counsels, and discourse, If truth be thine, what needs a brutish force? 8 To God, thy country, and thy friend be true; And, oaths once broke, the soul cannot be sound. The perjurer's a devil let loose: what can Tie up his hands that dares mock God and man? 9 Seek not the same steps with the crowd; stick thou To thy sure trot; a constant, humble mind VOL. II. R 257 Is both his own joy, and his Maker's too; A sweet self-privacy in a right soul 10 To all that seek thee bear an open heart; It is the good man's feast, the prince of flowers, but give 11 Seal not thy eyes up from the poor, 12 Spend not an hour so as to weep another, For tears are not thine own; if thou giv'st words, Dash not with them thy friend, nor Heaven; oh, smother A viperous thought; some syllables are swords. Unbitted tongues are in their penance double; 13 Injure not modest blood, while spirits rise Who makes his jest of sins, must be at least, 14 Yet fly no friend, if he be such indeed; But meet to quench his longings, and thy thirst; But shuts his door, and leaves God out all night. 15 To heighten thy devotions, and keep low All mutinous thoughts, what business e'er thou hast, Above are restless motions, running lights, Vast circling azure, giddy clouds, days, nights. 16 When seasons change, then lay before thine eyes His wondrous method; mark the various scenes In heaven; hail, thunder, rainbows, snow, and ice, Calms, tempests, light, and darkness, by his means; Thou canst not miss his praise; each tree, herb, flower Are shadows of his wisdom and his power. 17 To meals when thou dost come, give him the praise 18 High-noon thus past, thy time decays; provide Thee other thoughts; away with friends and mirth; |