With as much zeal, devotion, piety, He always lived, as other saints do die. Still with his soul severe account he kept, Weeping all debts out ere he slept. Then down in peace and innocence he lay, Like the sun's laborious light, Which still in water sets at night, Unsullied with his journey of the day. _A. Cowley_ CXXXVIII _FRIENDS IN PARADISE_ They are all gone into the world of light! And I alone sit lingering here; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear:-- It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest, After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, Whose light doth trample on my days: My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmering and decays. O holy Hope! and high Humility, High as the heavens above! These are your walks, and you have shew'd them me, To kindle my cold love. Dear, beauteous Death! the jewel of the just, Shining no where, but in the dark; What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man outlook that mark! He that hath found some fledged bird's nest, may know At first sight, if the bird be flown; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet, as Angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul, when man doth sleep; So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep. _H. Vaughan_ CXXXIX _TO BLOSSOMS_ Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile, And go at last. What, were ye born to be An hour or half's delight, And so to bid good-night? 'Twas pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth, And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we May read how soon things have Their end, though ne'er so brave: And after they have shown their pride Like you, awhile, they glide Into the grave. _R. Herrick_ CXL _TO DAFFODILS_ Fair Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew Ne'er to be found again. _R. Herrick_