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LXVI.

The barren Fig-treo curfed.

Long abftinent, our Lord to faint began

For fuch his Frame, in all but Sin, like Man: As chanc'd a Fig-tree near the Road he spy'd, Whose verdant Leaves, and Boughs extended wide, Oft call'd the weary Trav'ler fro his Way, And promis'd Fruit they never meant to pay. Thither he goes, the Tree his Hopes deceives, And nothing found he there but taftless Leaves: No Fruit, he faid, hereafter on thee grow,

Nor fhalt thou more deceive with empty fhow: When from the Town ith' morning they return'd, The Apostles faw it wither'd, fear'd, and burn'd, As blafted with the Lightnings piercing Flame, Or Winds that from the fultry Defart came. With Wonder ftruck- How foon 'tis gone they cry'd!

Is this so ftrange, our Lord again reply'd?

Have but firm Faith in God, you All things may,

This Mountain bid remove, this Mountain shall

obey,

LXVI.

St. MARK Chap. XI. Ver. 12, 13, 14.

56.

12. When they were come from Bethany, he was hungry.

13. And feeing a fig-tree afar off, having leaves, he came, if haply he might find any thing thereon: and when he came to it, he found nothing but leaves; for the time of figs was not yet.

14. And Jefus answered and faid unto it, No man cat fruit of thee hereafter for ever,

AS

LXVII.

The Widow and her two Mites."

S in the Womens Court our Lord was plac'd,

And faw the Gifts were into Corban caft; Handfuls of Gold, which they take care to show To all around, the Rich profufely throw;

So large, as tho' they thought just Heav'n to move,
And buy their Pardons in the Court above :
When now the wealthier Crowd had left the Place,
A needy Widow with dejected Face

Offer'd her two poor Mites, 'twas all her store,
And blush'd, and inward figh'd fhe had no more.
Nor unconcern'd did this our Saviour fee,
But prais'd the Widow's generous Poverty :
The reft but their fuperfluous Wealth had thrown,
Nor wou'd their Coffers mifs it when 'twas gone:
To her two Mites, their Talents were but small,
For more she could not give, who freely gave her
ALL.

LXVII

St. MARK Chap. XII. Ver. 42, 43, 44.

42. There came a certain poor widow, and fhe threw in two mites, which make a farthing.

43. And be called unto him his difciples, and faith unto them, Verily I Say unto you, that this poor widow hath caft more in, than all they which have caft into the treasury.

44. For all they did caft in of their abundance: but fhe of her want did caft in all that she had, even all her living.

LXIII.

Chrift walks on the Sea, and ftills the Tempeft.

Hile in the lonely defart Jefus ftaid,

WE

And all the Night to him who sent him
pray'd;

Th' Apoftles, whom embark'd he fent before,
Were working hard to make the distant shore,
With many a fruitless Board; the Storm grew high,
And fighting whirlwinds mingled Earth and Sky.
Dark was the Night, as that which did of old,
In Hell-born mists th' Egyptian Realms infold;
No chearful Pleiades, nor watchful Bear,
Did to th' Apostles thro' the Clouds appear
To guide their Course, nor was their Mafter

there.

---At length he came his faithful Friends to fave,
And treads with steddy Feet, the flipp'ry Wave.
Paffing the Ship a glimpse of Light he threw,
Which pierc'd the fhades; at this imperfect view
Th' Apoftles thought they faw fome wand'ring
Ghoft

Of one upon the Lake in Tempefts loft.
A general Cry, they raise, their causless Fear
Our Lord did foon remove with--- I am here!
Entring the Bark his Words the Winds command,
They make the happy Port and feize the welcom
Land.

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