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No process more the law can tent;
Thou stand′st within its verge,
And may′st with pleasure now present
Thy Husband′s full discharge.
Though new contracted guilt beget
New fears of divine ire;
Yet fear thou not, though drown′d in debt,
Thy Husband is the payer.
God might in rigour thee indite
Of highest crimes and flaws;
But on thy head no curse can light,——
Thy Husband is the cause.
The mystery of the Saints′ adversaries and adversities.
A Lump of woe affliction is,
Yet thence I borrow lumps of bliss:
Though few can see a blessing in′t,
It is my furnace and my mint.
Its sharpness does any lusts dispatch;
Its suddenness alarms my watch,
Its bitterness refines my taste,
And weans me from the creature′s breast.
