277   Comfort to a Youth that had lost his Love

WHAT needs complaints,
   When she a place
Has with the race
   Of saints?

In endless mirth
She thinks not on
What’s said or done
   In Earth.

She sees no tears,
Or any tone
Of thy deep groan
   She hears:

Nor does she mind
Or think on’t now
That ever thou
   Wast kind;

But changed above,
She likes not there,
As she did here,
   Thy love.

Forbear therefore,
And lull asleep
Thy woes, and weep
   No more.

278   To Meadows

YE have been fresh and green,
   Ye have been fill’d with flowers,
And ye the walks have been
   Where maids have spent their hours.

You have beheld how they
   With wicker arks did come
To kiss and bear away
   The richer cowslips home.

You’ve heard them sweetly sing,
   And seen them in a round:
Each virgin like a spring,
   With honeysuckles crown’d.

But now we see none here
   Whose silv’ry feet did tread
And with dishevell’d hair
   Adorn’d this smoother mead.

Like unthrifts, having spent
   Your stock and needy grown,
You’re left here to lament
   Your poor estates, alone.

279   A Child’s Grace

HERE a little child I stand
Heaving up my either hand;
Cold as paddocks¹ though they be,
Here I lift them up to Thee,
For a benison to fall
On our meat and on us all. Amen.

280   Epitaph

upon a Child that died

HERE she lies, a pretty bud,
Lately made of flesh and blood:
Who as soon fell fast asleep
As her little eyes did peep.
Give her strewings, but not stir
The earth that lightly covers her.

281   Another

HERE a pretty baby lies
Sung asleep with lullabies:
Pray be silent and not stir
Th’ easy earth that covers her.

282   His Winding-sheet

COME thou, who art the wine and wit
       Of all I’ve writ:
The grace, the glory, and the best
       Piece of the rest.
Thou art of what I did intend
       The all and end;
And what was made, was made to meet
       Thee, thee, my sheet.
Come then and be to my chaste side
       Both bed and bride:
We two, as reliques left, will have
       One rest, one grave:
And hugging close, we will not fear
       Lust entering here:
Where all desires are dead and cold
       As is the mould;
And all affections are forgot,
       Or trouble not.
Here, here, the slaves and prisoners be
       From shackles free:
And weeping widows long oppress’d
       Do here find rest.
The wrongàd client ends his laws
       Here, and his cause.
Here those long suits of Chancery lie
       Quiet, or die:
And all Star-Chamber