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The Lord's Day. 329
Christ hath took in this piece of ground, And made a garden there, for those Who want herbs for their wound.
The rest of our Creation Our great Redeemer did remove With the same shake, which at His passion Did th' earth, and all things with it, move: As Samson bore the doors away, Christ's hands, though nail'd, wrought our salvation,
And did unhinge that day.
The brightness of that day We sullied by our foul offence ; Wherefore that robe we cast away, Having a new at His expense, Whose drops of blood paid the full price That was required to make us gay,
And fit for Paradise.
George Herbert. 1632.
My Lord, my love was crucified,
He all the pains did bear ; But in the sweetness of His rest
He makes His servants share. How sweetly rest Thy saints above
Which in Thy bosom lie ! The Church below doth rest in hope
Of that felicity.
Thou, Lord, who daily feed'st Thy sheep, Mak'st them a weekly feast ;
Thy flocks meet in their several folds Upon this day of rest: