1672
#AmericanWriters
My head, my heart, mine Eyes, my… My joy, my Magazine of earthly st… If two be one, as surely thou and… How stayest thou there, whilst I… So many steps, head from the heart…
Be still, thou unregenerate part, Disturb no more my settled heart, For I have vow’d (and so will do) Thee as a foe still to pursue, And combat with thee will and must
All things within this fading worl… Adversity doth still our joyes att… No ties so strong, no friends so d… But with death’s parting blow is s… The sentence past is most irrevoca…
O Lord, Thou hear’st my daily moa… And see’st my dropping tears. My troubles all are Thee before, My longings and my fears. Thou hitherto hast been my God;
I had eight birds hatched in one n… Four cocks there were, and hens th… I nursed them up with pain and car… Nor cost, nor labour did I spare, Till at the last they felt their w…
Here lies A worthy matron of unspotted life, A loving mother and obedient wife, A friendly neighbor, pitiful to po… Whom oft she fed, and clothed with…
The former four now ending their d… Ceasing to vaunt their good, or th… Lo other four step up, crave leave… The native qualityes that from the… But first they wisely shew’d their…
Thou ill-form’d offspring of my fe… Who after birth didst by my side r… Till snatched from thence by frien… Who thee abroad, expos’d to public… Made thee in raggs, halting to th’…
2. Sam. 1. 19. Alas slain is the… Illustrious Saul whose beauty did… Upon thy places mountainous and hi… How did the Mighty fall, and fall… In Gath let not this things be sp…
My thankfull heart with glorying… Shall celebrate thy Name, Who hath restor’d, redeem’d, recur… From sicknes, death, and Pain. I cry’d thov seem’st to make some…
In my distress I sought the Lord When naught on earth could comfort… And when my soul these things abho… Then, Lord, Thou said’st unto me,… Thou knowest the sorrows that I f…
As loving hind that (hartless) wan… Scuds through the woods and fern w… Perplext, in every bush and nook d… Her dearest deer, might answer ear… So doth my anxious soul, which now…
By night when others soundly slept… And had at once both case and rest… My waking eyes were open kept And so to lie I found it best. I sought Him whom my soul did lov…
To sing of Wars, of Captains, and… Of Cities founded, Common—wealths… For my mean Pen are too superior… Or how they all, or each their dat… Let Poets and Historians set thes…
As weary pilgrim, now at rest, Hugs with delight his silent nest His wasted limbes, now lye full so… That myrie steps, haue troden oft Blesses himself, to think vpon