Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/466

 380 Anne BradJlixeVs Works.

And yet this linfull creature, frail and vain,

This lump of wretchednefs, of fin and forrow,

This weather-beaten veffel wrackt with pain,

Joyes not in hope of an eternal morrow;

Nor all his loffes, crolTes and vexation,

In weight, in frequency and long duration

Can make him deeply groan for that divine Tranflation.

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The Mariner that on fmooth waves doth glide. Sings merrily, and fleers his Barque with eafe. As if he had command of wind and tide, And now become great Mafher of the leas; But fuddenl}' a ftorm fpoiles all the fport. And makes him long for a more quiet port, Which 'gainft all adverfe winds may ferve for fort.

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So he that faileth in this world of pleafure, Feeding on fweets, that never bit of th' fowre, That's full of friends, of honour and of treafure. Fond fool, he takes this earth ev'n for heav'ns bower. But fad affli6lion comes & makes him fee Here's neither honour, wealth, nor fafet}^; Only above is found all with fecurity.

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