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S. CYRIL. Lib. v. in Joh. Cap. x.

O precious water! which quencheth the noisome thirst of this world, scoureth all the stains of sinners, that watereth the earth of our souls with heavenly showers, and bringeth back the thirsty heart of man to his only God!

S. AUGUST. Soliloq. Cap. xxxv.

O fountain of life, and vein of living waters, when shall I leave this forsaken, impassible, and dry earth, and taste the waters of thy sweetness, that I may behold thy virtue and thy glory, and slake my thirst with the streams of thy mercy! Lord, I thirst; thou art the spring of life, satisfy me: I thirst, Lord, I thirst after thee the living God!

EPIG. 11.

The arrow-smitten hart, deep-wounded, flies
To th' springs, with water in his weeping eyes:
Heav'n is thy spring: if Satan's firy dart

Pierce thy faint sides: do so, my wounded heart.

PSALM

XII.

PSALM xlii. 2.

When shall I come and appear before God?

HAT is my soul the better, to be tin'd*

WH

With holy fire? what bootst it to be coin'd With heav'n's own stamp? what 'vantage‡ can there be To souls of heav'n-descended pedigree,

More than to beasts that grovel? are not they
Fed by th' Almighty's hand? and ev'ry day,
Fill'd with his blessings too? Do they not see
God in his creatures, as direct as we ?

Do they not taste thee? hear thee? nay, what sense
Is not partaker of thine excellence?

What more do we? alas! what serves our reason,
But, like dark lanterns, to accomplish treason
With greater closeness? It affords no light,
Brings thee no nearer to our purblind sight:
No pleasure rises up the least degree,

Great God! but in the clearer view of thee:
What priv'lege more than sense, hath reason, then?
What 'vantage is it to be born a man?

How often hath my patience built, dear Lord,
Vain tow'rs of hope upon thy gracious word!
How often hath thy hope-reviving grace
Woo'd my suspicious eyes to seek thy face!
How often have I sought thee! O how long
Hath expectation taught my perfect tongue
Repeated pray'rs, yet pray'rs could ne'er obtain !
In vain I seek thee, and I beg in vain :

Tined; i. e. lighted up.
'Vantage; i. e. advantage.

+ Boots; i. e profits.

It

f it be high presumption to behold

Thy face, why didst thou make mine eyes so bold
To seek it? If that object be too bright
For man's aspect, why did thy lips invite
Mine eye t' expect it? If it might be seen,
Why is this envious curtain drawn between
My darken'd eye and it? O tell me, why
Thou dost command the thing thou dost deny ?
Why dost thou give me so unpriz'd a treasure,
And then deny'st my greedy soul the pleasure
To view my gift? Alas! that gift is void,
And is no gift, that may not be enjoy'd :
If those refulgent beams of heav'n's great light
Gild not the day, what is the day but night?
The drowsy shepherd sleeps, flow'rs droop and fade;
The birds are sullen, and the beast is sad :
But if bright Titan dart his golden ray,
And with his riches glorify the day,

The jolly shepherd pipes; flow'rs freshly spring;
The beasts grow gamesome, and the birds they sing.
Thou art my sun, great God! O when shall Í
View the full beams of thy meridian eye?
Draw, draw this fleshly curtain, that denies
The gracious presence of thy glorious eyes;
Or give me faith; and, by the eye of grace,
I shall behold thee, though not face to face.

S. AU

S. AUGUST. in Psal. xxxix.

Who created all things, is better than all things: who beautified all things, is more beautiful than all things: who made strength, is stronger than all things: who made great things, is greater than all things: whatsoever thou lovest, he is that to thee: learn to love the workman in his work, the Creator in his creature. Let not that which was made by him possess thee, lest thou lose him by whom thyself was made.

S. AUGUST. Med. Cap. xxxvii.

O thou most sweet, most gracious, most amiable, most fair, when shall I see thee? when shall I be satisfied with thy beauty? when wilt thou lead me from this dark dungeon, that I may confess thy name?

EPIG. 12.

How art thou shaded, in this veil of night,
Behind thy curtain flesh! Thou seest no light,
But what thy pride doth challenge as her own;
Thy flesh is high: soul, take this curtain down:

PSALM

XIII.

PSALM IV. 6.

O that I had the wings of a dove, for then I would fly away

A

and be at rest.

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ND am I sworn a dunghill-slave for ever
To earth's base drudg'ry? Shall I never find

A night of rest? Shall my indentures never

Be cancell'd? Did injurious nature bind

My soul earth's prentice, with no clause to leave her? No day of freedom? Must I for ever grind?

O that I had the pinions of a dove,

That I might quit my bands, and soar above, And pour my just complaints before the great JEHOVE!

2.

How happy are the doves, that have the pow'r,
Whene'er they please, to spread their airy wings!
Or cloud-dividing eagles, that can tow'r
Above the scent of these inferior things!
How happy is the lark, that ev'ry hour

Leaves earth, and then for joy mounts up and sings! Had my dull soul but wings as well as they, How I would spring from earth, and clip* away, As wise Astrea did, and scorn this ball of clay !

*Clip; i. e. fly swiftly.

P 2.

O how

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