C 0 M U S. 62; Were all too ruffled, and fornetimes impair'd. 38.9 He that has light within his own cleat brealt May fit i'th' center, and enjoy bright day But he that bidr a dark foul and foul thughts, Benighted walks under the mid-day tun ; Himfelf is his own dungeon. 2. Bro. 'Tis molt true, 385 That muting meditation molt affeds The penfive fecrecy of defert cell, Far from the chearful haunt of men and herds, And fits as fafe as in a ferrate houle ; For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, 39 His few books, or his beads, or maple difh, Or do his gray hairs any violence ? But beauty, like the fair Herperian tree Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard Of dragon-watch with uninchanted eye, 395 To fave her blofforns, and defend her fruit From the rafh hand of bold incontinence, You may as well fpread out the unfunn'd heaps Of tnifers treafure by an out-law's den, And tell me it is fake, as bid me hope 400 Danger will wink on opportunity, And let a tingle helplefs maiden pals Untnjur'd in this wild furrounding walk. Of night, or lonelinefs it recks me not ; 1 fear the dread events that dog them boa!, 425 Left form ill-greeting touch attempt the perfon Of our unowned Sifter. Eld. Bro. 1 do not, Brother, Infer, as if I thought my Siaer's Rate Secure without all doubt, or controverfy Yet where an equal poife of hope and fear 410 Does arbitrate th' event, my nature is I incline to hope, rather than fear, And
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