Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/103

 yoy in God. 19

What tho : thy outward Man decay,

Thy inward fhall waxe ftrong; Thy body vile it fhall bee chang'd,

And gloriovs made ere-long.

With Angels-wings thy Soul fhall movnt

To Bliffe vnfeen by Eye, And drink at vnexhaulled fovnt

Of Joy vnto Eternity.

Th}^ teares fhall All bee dryed vp,

Thy Sorrowes all fhall fiye; Thy Sinns fhall ne'r bee fummon'd vp,

Nor come in memory.

Then fhall I know what thov haft done

For me, vnworthy me. And praife thee fhall ev'n as I ovght,

ffor wonders that I fee.

Bafe World, I trample on thy face,

Thy Glory I defpife. No gain I find in ovght below.

For God hath made me wife.

Come, Jefvs, qvickl}^, Bleffed Lord,

Thy face when fhall I fee? O let me covnt each hour a Day

'Till I diffolved bee.

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