1

As fair Ideas from the Skie,

Or Images of Things,

Unto a Spotless Mirror flie,

On unperceived Wings;

And lodging there affect the Sence,

As if at first they came from thence;

While being there, they richly Beautifie

The Place they fill, and yet communicat

Themselvs, reflecting to the Seers Ey,

Just such is our Estate.

No Prais can we return again,

No Glory in our selvs possess,

But what derived from without we gain,

From all the Mysteries of Blessedness.

2

No Man breaths out more vital Air,

Then he before suckt in.

Those Joys and Praises must repair

To us, which tis a Sin

To bury, in a Senceless Tomb.

An Earthly Weight must be the Heir

Of all those Joys, the Holy Angels Prize,

He must a King, before a Priest becom,

And Gifts receiv, or ever Sacrifice.

Tis Blindness Makes us Dumb.

Had we but those Celestial Eys,

Wherby we could behold the Sum

Of all his Bounties, we should overflow

With Praises, did we but their Causes Know.

3

All Things to Circulations owe

Themselvs; by which alone

They do exist: They cannot shew

A Sigh, a Word, a Groan,

A Colour, or a Glimps of Light,

The Sparcle of a Precious Stone,

A virtue, or a Smell; a lovly Sight,

A Fruit, a Beam, an Influence, a Tear;

But they anothers Livery must Wear:

And borrow Matter first,

Before they can communicat.

Whatever's empty is accurst:

And this doth shew that we must some Estate

Possess, or never can communicate.

4

A Spunge drinks in that Water, which

Is afterwards exprest.

A Liberal hand must first be rich:

Who blesseth must be Blest.

The Thirsty Earth drinks in the Rain,

The Trees suck Moysture at their Roots,

Before the one can Lavish Herbs again,

Before the other can afford us Fruits.

No Tenant can rais Corn, or pay his Rent,

Nor can even hav a Lord,

That has no Land. No Spring can vent,

No vessel any Wine afford

Wherin no Liquor's put. No Empty Purs,

Can Pounds or Talents of it self disburs.