LITMIR.BIZ

      53. TO ALL ANGELS AND SAINTS.

      OH glorious spirits, who after all your bands

      See the smooth face of God, without a frown,

      Or strict commands;

      Where ev’ry one is king, and hath his crown,

      If not upon his head, yet in his hands:

      Not out of envy or maliciousnesse

      Do I forbear to crave your speciall aid.

      I would addresse

      My vows to thee most gladly, blessed Maid,

      And Mother of my God, in my distresse:

      Thou art the holy mine, whence came the gold,

      The great restorative for all decay

      In young and old;

      Thou art the cabinet where the jewell lay:

      Chiefly to thee would I my soul unfold.

      But now, (alas!) I dare not; for our King,

      Whom we do all joyntly adore and praise,

      Bids no such thing:

      And where his pleasure no injunction layes,

      (’Tis your own case) ye never move a wing.

      All worship is prerogative, and a flower

      Of his rich crown, from whom lyes no appeal

      At the last houre:

      Therefore we dare not from his garland steal,

      To makea posie for inferiour power.

      Although then others court you, if ye know

      What’s done on earth, we shall not fare the worse,

      Who do not so;

      Since we are ever ready to disburse,

      If any one our Master’s hand can show.