Sion1 Sonet1; Thy l9vely breafl:s, (whofe beauty re-invite~ My oft rememb11ance to her oft delights) , Are like the fwelling Clufters of the Vine ; So full offweetnefs are thofe breafis of thine. - ' ' [181 ' ARt tho,umyPalm? My bufie hand fhall nourifb Thy fruitful roots,and make thy branches fiourifh rt thou my Vine? my skilful arm fhall drefs. Thy * dying plants; my living fprings fhall blefs Thy * infant Buds , my blaftin~ breath fhall quell * Prefumptuous weeds, and make thy Clutters fwcll And all that love thee, !hall attain the favour To tafte thy fweetnefs, and to fmell thy favour. , * Defpairingfouls. * Toung Converts. * Oppofort oftht Truth. • • I [I~] -THofe Ora:eles that from thy lips proceed, With fweet Evangels, fhall delight and feed Th' attentive ear,and like the Trumpets,voic~ Amaze faint ht'arts, but make brave fpirits rejoice: Thy breath, whofe Dialett is moft divine, Ince~ds quick flames, where ember'd fparks but Chine; · It,finkes the Pleaders Rhet'riCk with derifion, · And makes the dullefi Soul a Rhetorician. BR. ID E.. Sonet. XXI. My faith, not merits, hath a[ur'd thee,mine ~ • Thy Love, not my defert hath made me thme ~ Unworthy I,whofe drowzy foul re jetted Thy precious favours, and~fecure) negletl:ed Thy glorious prefence, how am I become ABride befitting fo Divine aGroom! It is no merit, no defert of mine, · , Thy love, thy love: alone, hath made me thine. cc 4 2. 5inet
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