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To Mr Tilman after he had taken orders. |
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Thou, whose diviner soule hath caus'd thee now |
To put thy hand unto the holy Plough, |
Making Lay-scornings of the Ministry, |
Not an impediment, but victory; |
What bringst thou home with thee? how is thy mind |
Affected since the vintage? Dost thou finde |
New thoughts and stirrings in thee? and as Steele |
Toucht with a Loadstone, dost new motions feele? |
Or, as a Ship after much paine and care, |
For Iron and Cloth brings home rich Indian ware, |
Hast thou thus traffiqu'd, but with farre more gaine |
Of noble goods, and with lesse time and paine? |
Thou art the same materials, as before, |
Onely the stampe is changed; but no more. |
And as new crowned Kings alter the face, |
But not the monies substance; so hath grace |
Chang'd onely Gods old Image by Creation, |
To Chists new stampe, at this thy Coronation; |
Or, as we paint Angels with wings, because |
They beare Gods message, and proclaime his lawes, |
Since thou must doe the like, and so must move, |
Art thou new feather'd with cœlestiall love? |
Deare, tell me where thy purchase lies, and shew |
What thy advantage is above, below. |
But if thy gainings doe surmount expression, |
Why doth the foolish world scorne that profession, |
Whose joyes passe speech? Why do they think unfit |
That Gentry should joyne families with it?
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[CW: As] |