And I had rather to be blamed,

So I were blameless made,
Than for much virtue to be famed,
When I no virtues had.

Though slanders to an innocent
Sometimes do bitter grow,
Their bitterness procures content,
If clear himself he know.
And when a virtuous man hath erred,
If praised himself he hear,

It makes him grieve, and more afeard
Than if he slandered were.

Lord! therefore make my heart upright,
Whate'er my deeds do seem;
And righteous rather in Thy sight,
Than in the world's esteem.

And if aught good appear to be

In any act of mine,

Let thankfulness be found in me,
And all the praise be Thine.

LEMUEL'S SONG.

Who finds a woman good and wise,

A gem more worth than pearl hath got;

Her husband's heart on her relies;

To live by spoil he needeth not.

His comfort all his life is she;

No wrong she willingly will do ;
For wool and flax her searches be,
And cheerful hands she puts thereto.

The merchant-ship, resembling right,
Her food she from afar doth fet.
Ere day she wakes, that give she might
Her maids their task, her household meat.
A field she views, and that she buys;

Her hand doth plant a vineyard there;
Her loins with courage up she ties ;
Her arms with vigor strengthened are.

If in her work she profit feel,

By night her candle goes not out: She puts her finger to the wheel, Her hand the spindle turns about. To such as poor and needy are

Her hand (yea, both hands) reacheth she. The winter none of hers doth fear,

For double clothed her household be.
She mantles maketh wrought by hand,
And silk and purple clothing gets.
Among the rulers of the land
(Known in the gate) her husband sits.
For sale fine linen weaveth she,

And girdles to the merchant sends.
Renown and strength her clothing be,
And joy her later time attends.

She speaks discreetly when she talks ;
The law of grace her tongue hath learned;
She heeds the way her household walks,
And feedeth not on bread unearned.
Her children rise, and blest her call;
Her husband thus applaudeth her :
"Oh, thou hast far surpassed them all,
Though many daughters thriving are!"
Deceitful favor quickly wears,

And beauty suddenly decays;
But, if the Lord she truly fears,
That woman well deserveth praise,
The fruit her handiwork obtains :
Without repining grant her that,
And yield her when her labor gains,
To do her honor in the gate.

FROM

66

Francis Quarles.

1592-1644.

DELIGHT IN GOD ONLY."

To Heaven's high city I direct my journey, Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eyeMine eye, by contemplation's great attorney,

Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky; But what is Heaven, great God, compared to Thee?

Without Thy presence, Heaven 's no Heaven to

me.

Without Thy presence, earth gives no refection ;
Without Thy presence, sea affords no treasure ;
Without Thy presence air 's a rank infection;
Without Thy presence, Heaven itself 's no
pleasure :

If not possess'd, if not enjoy'd in Thee,
What 's earth, or sea, or air, or Heaven to me?

The highest honors that the world can boast
Are subjects far too low for my desire;
The brightest beams of glory are, at most,

But dying sparkles of Thy living fire;
The proudest flames that earth can kindle be
But nightly glow-worms if compared to Thee.

Without Thy presence, wealth is bags of cares ; Wisdom but folly, joy disquiet sadness; Friendship is treason, and delights are snares; Pleasure 's but pain, and mirth but pleasing

madness

Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be, Nor have their being, when compared with Thee.

In having all things, and not Thee, what have I?
Not having Thee, what have my labors got?
Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I ?
And having Thee alone, what have I not?
I wish nor sea, nor land, nor would I be
Possess'd of Heaven, Heaven unpossess'd of
Thee !

Alexander Hume.

1560-1609.

A SUMMER'S DAY.

From "The Day Estivall."

The time so tranquil is and clear,
That nowhere shall ye find,
Save on a high and barren hill,
An air of passing wind.

All trees and simples, great and small,
That balmy leaf do bear,

Than they were painted on a wall,
No more they move or stir.

The ships becalmed upon the seas.
Hang up their sails to dry;
The herds, beneath the leafy trees,
Among the flowers they lie.

Great is the calm, for everywhere
The wind is settling down:
The smoke goes upright in the air,
From every tower and town.

What pleasure, then, to walk and see,

Along a river clear,

The perfect form of every tree

Within the deep appear: