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XII. |
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Why are we by all creatures waited on? |
Why doe the prodigall elements supply |
Life and food to me, being more pure than I, |
Simpler and further from corruption? |
Why brook'st thou ignorant horse, subjection? |
Why dost thou bull, and bore so seelily |
Dissemble weaknesse, and by one mans stroke die, |
Whose whole kinde, you might swallow and feed upō? |
Weaker I am, woe is me, and worse than you, |
You have not sinn'd, nor need bee timorous, |
But wonder at a greater, for to us |
Created nature doth these things subdue, |
But their Creator,'whom sinne, nor nature tyed, |
For us, his Creatures, and his foes, hath dyed. |
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XIII. |
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What if this present were the worlds last night? |
Marke in my heart, ô Soule, where thou dost dwell, |
The picture of Christ crucifi'd, and tell |
Whether his countenance can thee affright, |
Teares in his eyes quench the amazing light, |
Blood fils his frownes, which from his pierc'd head fell |
And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell,
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[CW: Which] |