7. _Salute the last and everlasting day_, Joy at the uprising of this Sunne, and Sonne, Yee whose just teares, or tribulation Have purely washt, or burnt your drossie clay; Behold the Highest, parting hence away, 5 Lightens the darke clouds, which hee treads upon, Nor doth hee by ascending, show alone, But first hee, and hee first enters the way. O strong Ramme, which hast batter'd heaven for mee, Mild Lambe, which with thy blood, hast mark'd the path; 10 Bright Torch, which shin'st, that I the way may see, Oh, with thy owne blood quench thy owne just wrath, And if thy holy Spirit, my Muse did raise, _Deigne at my hands this crowne of prayer and praise_. [Ascention.] [3 just _1633_, _A18_, _D_, _H49_, _N_, _TC:_ true _1635-69_, _B_, _S_, _S96_, _W_] [8 way.] way, _1633_] [10 Lambe, _D_, _W:_ lambe _1633-69_] [11 Torch, _D_, _W:_ torch, _1633-69_ the way] thy wayes _B_, _S_, _S96_, _W:_ thee _A18_, _TCC_] _Holy Sonnets._ I. Thou hast made me, And shall thy worke decay? Repaire me now, for now mine end doth haste, I runne to death, and death meets me as fast, And all my pleasures are like yesterday; I dare not move my dimme eyes any way, 5 Despaire behind, and death before doth cast Such terrour, and my feeble flesh doth waste By sinne in it, which it t'wards hell doth weigh; Onely thou art above, and when towards thee By thy leave I can looke, I rise againe; 10 But our old subtle foe so tempteth me, That not one houre my selfe I can sustaine; Thy Grace may wing me to prevent his art, And thou like Adamant draw mine iron heart. [Holy Sonnets. _1633-69_ (_following_ La Corona _as second group under the same general title_), _W:_ Devine Meditations. _B_, _O'F_, _S96:_ _no title_, _A18_, _D_, _H49_, _N_, _TCC_, _TCD_. _See note_] [I. _1635-69_, _B_, _O'F_, _S96_, _W:_ _omitted_ _1633_, _A18_, _D_, _H49_, _N_, _TCC_, _TCD_] [4 yesterday; _Ed:_ yesterday, _1635-69_] [7 feeble _1635-69:_ febled _B_, _O'F_, _S96_, _W_] [12 my selfe I can _1635-69:_ I can myself _B_, _S96_, _W_ sustaine; _1669:_ sustaine, _1635-54_] II. As due by many titles I resigne My selfe to thee, O God, first I was made By thee, and for thee, and when I was decay'd Thy blood bought that, the which before was thine; I am thy sonne, made with thy selfe to shine, 5 Thy servant, whose paines thou hast still repaid, Thy sheepe, thine Image, and, till I betray'd My selfe, a temple of thy Spirit divine; Why doth the devill then usurpe on mee? Why doth he steale, nay ravish that's thy right? 10 Except thou rise and for thine owne worke fight, Oh I shall soone despaire, when I doe see That thou lov'st mankind well, yet wilt'not chuse me, And Satan hates mee, yet is loth to lose mee.