Page:Tixall Poetry.djvu/222

Chorus.
Say, Voterisse, can this be done?
 Whilst we the grace divine implore—
The world shall lose the battles won,
 And sin shall never chaine thee more.

Marina.
The gate to blisse doth open stand,
 And all my penance is in view;
The world, upon the other hand,
 Cries out, Oh, doe not bid adue.

Chorus.
What, what can pompe and glory doe?
 Or what can human powers perswade?
That mind that hath a heaven in view,
 How can it be by earth betraid?

Marina.
Hast then, Oh, hast to take me in,
 For ever locke Religions dore;
Secure me from the charmes of sin,
 And let me see the world noe more.