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Cardinal WOLSEY's Lamentation of his Fall.
AREWELL, a long Farewell to all my Great
ness! This is the State of Man ; to-day he puts forth The tender Leaves of Hope ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing Honours thick upon him ; The third Day comes a Frost, a killing Frost, And when he thinks, good eafy Man, full surely His Greatness is a ripening, nips his Root ; And then falls, as I do. I have ventur’d, Like little wanton Boys that swim on Bladders, These many Summers, in a Sea of Glory; But far beyond my Depth: My high-blown Pride At length brake under me ; and now has left me, Weary and old with Service, to the Mercy Of a rude Stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain Pomp and Glory of this World, I hate you; I feel my Heart new open’d. Oh, how wretched Is that
poor Man, that hangs on Princes Favours ! There is, betwixt that Smile which we aspire to, That fweet Regard of Princes, and our Ruin, More Pangs and Fears than War and Women know; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a Tear In all my Miseries ; but thou hast forc'd me, Out of thy honeft Truth, to play the WomanLet's dry our Eyes : And thus far hear me, Cromwell; Mark but my Fall, and that which ruin'd me, And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold Marble, where no Mention
Ofme mast more be heard : Say then, I taught thee
Preservation by Land and by Sea.
A Divine O D E.
OW are thy Servants blesi, O Lord !
How sure is their Defence ! Eternal Wisdom is their Guide, Their Help Omnipotence.
2. In foreign Realms, and Lands remote,
Supported by Thy Care,
And breath'd in tainted Air.
3. Thy Mercy sweeten'd ev'ry Soil,
Made ev'ry Region please ;
And smooth'd the Tyrrhene Seas.
4. Think, O my Soul, devoutly think,
How with a frighted Eyes
In all its Horrors rise !
5. Confusion dwelt in ev'ry Face,
And Fear in ev'ry Heart; When Waves on Waves, and Gulphs in Gulphs
O'ercame the Pilot's Art.
6. Yet then, from all my Griefs, O Lord,
Thy Mercy set me free,
My Soul took Hold on Thee;
7. For tho' in dreadful Whirls we hung
High on the broken Wave,
Nor Impotent to Save.
8. The Storm was laid, the Winds retir'd,
Obedient to thy Will;
At thy Command was stilli
9. In Midst of Dangers, Fears, and Death,
Thy Goodness I'll adore,
And humbly hope for more.
Thy Sacrifice shall be ;
Shall join my Soul to Thee.
RECOVERY from SICKNESS.
A Divine ODE.
THEN rising from the Bed of Death,
O'erwhelm'd with Guilt and Fear, I see my Maker, Face to Face,
O how shall I appear!
2. If yet, while Pardon may be found,
And Mercy may be fought,
And trembles at the Thought ;
In Majesty fevere,
O how shall I appear!
Who does her Sins lament, The timely Tribute of her Tears
Shall endless Woe prevent.
5. Then see the Sorrows of my Heart.
Ere yet it be too late ;
To give those Sorrows Weight.
6. For never shall my Soul despair
Her Pardon to procure,
To make her Pardon fure.
ERE Innocence and Beauty lies, whose Breath
Was snatch'd by early, not untimely Death.
On Mrs. MASON. In Bristol Cathedral.
By the Rev. Mr. W. MASON.
AKE, holy Earth,! all that my Soul holds