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The Revolution

Oh thou which Circumvolveth all
Not onely on this Eartly Ball
Where I a wretched Pilgrim Crawll
But those vast Orbs which shine soe bright
And are soe Glorious to our sight 5
From thee have influence and light
Not onely those who yearly run
Round that illustrious Globe the sun
When thou bids't stay their Race is dun
But those Fixt Stars whose Raidenties 10
Three hundred suns at least out vies
Owe unto thee their splendenties
Shouldst thou thy Glorious beams recall
To Horrid Chaos they would fall
And darknes would involve them all 15
When thou sendest forth th’al quickning breath
All that exhists begins their birth
When thou draw'st back they turn to Earth
Who can thy infinite power rehearse 20
Which didst create this Univers
And canst to atom’s it dispers
Should all annihilated bee
Which is as Easie unto thee
O what would then become of mee 25
Nay rather all to dust Calcine
I gladly will my forme resign
It will my carnall heart refine
My tears my Dust shall rarifie
To Ayer which Circularly 30
Thy blessed name shall magnifie
But as my tears in Ayer ascends
Il'e raise noe storms to hurt my Freinds
My soule hath fare more Noble ends
But sighs like Winds soe fills my brest 35
That in this spheir I cannot rest
That Glorious beams may Crown my Crest
For higher still I must aspier
Thus Noble thoughts doe still flie Higher
Till I delete my selfe to fier 40
And as I now burn High and clear
Let mee noe Prodigie apeare
To put the guilty World in feare
For love and zeale my Breast inflames
Then follow all Heroick Dames 45
It will imortalize your fames
And now I am defus'd to light
By thy almighty power and might
Let mee injoy thy Blessed sight
My beams contracted as I shine 50
This World to ashes would Calcine
But ô I could not it refine
Nor back againe I would not turn
Though I a Thousand Worlds might burn
It would too long my Joyes ajourn 55
Then let me ever with thee shine
All trancmutations I’le decline
The Eternall Glory shall bee thine
Now you that scorn repentant tears
As if proceeding from base fears 60
When yours lies low my dust it rears
From this sad solitarie Grove
To those Eternall Joyes above
Where al's involv'd in light and Love.