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Dr. JOHN DONNE.
IN D pity checks my spleex; brave fcorn forbidis
Those tears to ifue, which swell my eye-lids. I must not laugh, nor weep fins, but be wise, Can railing then cure these worn maladies? I not our Mifres, fair Religion, As worthy all our Souls devotion, As Virtue was to the first blinded Age? Are ngt hearens joyes more valiant to affwage
Dr. JOHN DONNE:
By Dr. PARNELL E.
Yompassion checks. my spleen, yet Scorn denies
The tears a paffage thro' my swelling eyes;
Is not Religion (Heav'n-descended dame)
Lufts; as earths honour was to them? Alas,
Driadife may be impused thish, and bear T
As earthly glory, fame, respect and show,
Oh ! if thy temper such a fear can find, This fear were valour of the noblest kind,
Dar'st thou provoke, when rebel souls aspire, 25 Thy Maker's Vengeance, and thy Monarch's Ire? Or live entomb'd in fhips, thy leader's prey, Spoil of the war, the famine, or the sea ? In search of pearl, in depth of ocean breathe, Or live, exild the sun, in mines beneath ? Or, where in tempests icy mountains roll, Attempt a passage by the Northern Pole? Or dar'st thou parch within the fires of Spain, Or burn beneath the line, for Indian gain ? Or for some Idol of thy fancy draw,
35 Some loose-gown’d dame; O courage made of straw! Thus, desp'rate Coward! would'ft thou bold appear, Yet when thy God has plac'd thee Centry here, To thy own foes, to bis, ignobly yield, And leave, for wars forbid, the appointed field ?
Know thy own foes ; th’Apoftate Angel, he You strive to please, the foremost of the Three ;