And since this life our nonage is, And wee in Wardship to thine Angels be, Native in heavens faire Palaces, Where we shall be but denizen'd by thee, As th'earth conceiving by the Sunne, 50 Yeelds faire diversitie, Yet never knowes which course that light doth run, So let mee study, that mine actions bee Worthy their sight, though blinde in how they see. VII. _The Patriarches._ And let thy Patriarches Desire 55 (Those great Grandfathers of thy Church, which saw More in the cloud, then wee in fire, Whom Nature clear'd more, then us Grace and Law, And now in Heaven still pray, that wee May use our new helpes right,) 60 Be satisfy'd, and fructifie in mee; Let not my minde be blinder by more light Nor Faith, by Reason added, lose her sight. VIII. _The Prophets._ Thy Eagle-sighted Prophets too, Which were thy Churches Organs, and did sound 65 That harmony, which made of two One law, and did unite, but not confound; Those heavenly Poëts which did see Thy will, and it expresse In rythmique feet, in common pray for mee, 70 That I by them excuse not my excesse In seeking secrets, or Poëtiquenesse. IX. _The Apostles._ And thy illustrious Zodiacke Of twelve Apostles, which ingirt this All, (From whom whosoever do not take 75 Their light, to darke deep pits, throw downe, and fall,) As through their prayers, thou'hast let mee know That their bookes are divine; May they pray still, and be heard, that I goe Th'old broad way in applying; O decline 80 Mee, when my comment would make thy word mine. X. _The Martyrs._ And since thou so desirously Did'st long to die, that long before thou could'st, And long since thou no more couldst dye, Thou in thy scatter'd mystique body wouldst 85 In Abel dye, and ever since In thine; let their blood come To begge for us, a discreet patience Of death, or of worse life: for Oh, to some Not to be Martyrs, is a martyrdome. 90 XI. _The Confessors._ Therefore with thee triumpheth there A Virgin Squadron of white Confessors, Whose bloods betroth'd, not marryed were, Tender'd, not taken by those Ravishers: They know, and pray, that wee may know, 95 In every Christian Hourly tempestuous persecutions grow; Tentations martyr us alive; A man Is to himselfe a Dioclesian. XII. _The Virgins._