The Author To His Disconsolate Brother Poem by Richard Brathwait

The Author To His Disconsolate Brother



Let not mishap deprive you of that hope
Which yields some relish to your discontent;
Ayme your affections at Heaven's glorious scope,
Which shovvres downe comfort, when all comfort's spent:
Then rest secure ; that Power which you adore
Will make your joyes more full than ere before.

Let not the sunne, now shadowed with a cloud,
Make you suspect the sunne will never shine;
That ill which now seems ill, may once prove good:
Time betters that which was depravde by time.
Thus let my prayers, your teares, concord in one, [comfort's gone.
To reape heav'n's comforts, when earth's

Thursday, October 30, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: family
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