GEORGE HERBERT. Teach me, my God and King,

In all things Thee to see, And what I do in any thing, To do it as for Thee.

Not rudely as a beast,

To run into an action;

But still to make Thee prepossest,
And give it his perfection.

A man that looks on glass,
On it may stay his eye,

Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heaven espy.

All may of Thee partake;

Nothing can be so mean

Which with this tincture-" for Thy sake". Will not grow bright and clean.

A servant with this clause

Makes drudgery divine;

Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws,

Makes that and the action fine.

This is the famous stone

That turneth all to gold;

For that which God doth touch and own, Cannot for less be told.

EASTER.

I got me flowers to straw thy way;
I got me boughs off many a tree;
But thou wast up by break of day,

And brought'st thy sweets along with thee.

GRATEFULNESS,

Thou that hast given so much to me Give one thing more, a grateful heart ; See how thy beggar works on Thee

By art.

He makes Thy gifts occasion more
And says, If he in this be crost,
All Thou hast given him heretofore
Is lost.

Wherefore I cry and cry again,
And in no quiet canst Thou be,
Till I a thankful heart obtain

Of Thee.

Not thankful [only] when it pleaseth me,
As if Thy blessings had spare days;
But such a heart, whose pulse may be
Thy praise.

VIRTUE.

Sweet day! so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky;
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night;
For thou must die.

Sweet rose whose hue, angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye ;
Thy root is ever in its grave,

And thou must die.

Sweet spring! full of sweet days and roses,

;

A box where sweets compacted lie Thy music shows ye have your closes;

And all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul

Like seasoned timber never gives;

But, though the whole world turn to coal,

Then chiefly lives.

THOMAS CAREW.

[In Percy's Reliques.]

He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires;

As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

But a smooth and stedfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires;
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes.

ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS.
Daughter of George, Duke of Buckingham.
This little vault, this narrow room,
Of love and beauty is the tomb;
The dawning beam that 'gan to clear
Our clouded sky, lies darkened here;

'Twas but a bud, yet did contain
More sweetness than shall spring again,
A budding star that might have grown
Into a sun when it had blown.

1592-1644] FRANCIS QUARLES.

From his Divine Poems.

The World's an Inn, and I her guest,
I eat, I drink, I take my rest;
My hostess Nature, does deny me
Nothing, wherewith she can supply me;
Where, having stayed a while, I pay
Her lavish bills, and go my way.

ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE.
[Sister to Sir Philip Sidney.]

Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,

Sidney's sister-Pembroke's mother-
Death, ere thou hast slain another,
Learn'd and fair and good as she,
Time shall throw his dart at thee.

From "TO THE IMMORTAL MEMORY AND FRIENDSHIP OF THAT NOBLE PAIR."

It is not growing like a tree

In bulk, doth make man better be ;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere ;
A lily of a day,

Is fairer far in May;

Although it fall, and die that night,
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see,
And in short measures life may perfect be.

EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH L. H.

Would'st thou hear what man can say
In a little? Reader stay.
Underneath this stone doth lie
As much beauty as could die ;
Which in life did harbour give
To more virtue than doth live.

From The Silent Woman.

Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace.

GEORGE HERBERT. Teach me, my God and King,

In all things Thee to see, And what I do in any thing, To do it as for Thee.

Not rudely as a beast,

To run into an action;

But still to make Thee prepossest,
And give it his perfection.

A man that looks on glass,
On it may stay his eye,

Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heaven espy.

All may of Thee partake;

Nothing can be so mean

Which with this tincture-" for Thy sake". Will not grow bright and clean.

A servant with this clause

Makes drudgery divine;

Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws,

Makes that and the action fine.

This is the famous stone

That turneth all to gold;

For that which God doth touch and own, Cannot for less be told.

EASTER.

I got me flowers to straw thy way;
I got me boughs off many a tree;
But thou wast up by break of day,

And brought'st thy sweets along with thee.