Зображення сторінки

“ World-wand'ring sorry wights,

Whom nothing can content SWEET bird, that sing'st away the early hours Within these varying lists of days and nights, Of winters past, or coming, void of care,

Whose life, ere known amiss, Well pleased with delights which present are,

In glittring griefs is spent, Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flow'rs: Come learn,” said she, “what is your choicest bliss : To rocks, to springs, to rills, from leavy bow'rs Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare,

“ From toil and pressing cares And what dear gifts on thee he did not spare,

How ye may respite find, A stain to human sense in sin that low'rs.

A sanctuary from soul-thralling snares; What sou) can be so sick, which by thy songs

A port to harbour sure, (Attir'd in sweetness) sweetly is not driven

In spite of waves and wind,
Quite to forget Earth's turmoils, spites, and wrongs, Which shall when time's swift glass is run, endure.
And lift a reverend eye and thought to Heaven?
Sweet, artless songster, thou my mind dost raise “ Not happy is that life
To airs of spheres, yes, and to angels' lays.

Which you as happy hold,
No, but a sea of fears, a field of strife,

Charg'd on a throne to sit
As when it happeneth that some lovely town

With diadems of gold,
Unto a barbarous besieger falls,

Preserv'd by force, and still observ'd by wit.
Who both by sword and flame himself instals,
And shameless it in tears and blood doth drown; “ Huge treasures to enjoy,
Her beauty spoil’d, her citizens made thralls,

Of all her gems spoil Inde,
His spite yet cannot so her all throw down, All Seres' silk in garments to employ,
But that some statue, pillar of renown,

Deliciously to feed,
Yet lurks unmaim'd withiu ber weeping walls:

The phenix' plumes to find
So after all the spoil, disgrace and wreck, (bin'd, To rest upon, or deck your purple bed.
That time, the world, and death, could bring com-
Amidst that mass of ruins they did make,

“ Frail beauty to abuse, Safe and all scarless yet remains my mind :

And, wanton Sybarites,
From this so high transcendent rapture springs, On past or present touch of sense to mase ;
That I, all else defac’d, not envy kings.

Never to hear of noise

But what the ear delights,

Sweet music's charms, or charming flatterer's voice. Let us each day inure ourselves to die, If this, and not our fears, be truly death,

“ Nor can it bliss you bring, Above the circles both of hope and faith

Hid nature's depths to know, With fair immortal pinions to fly ;

Why matter changeth, whence each form doth If this be death, our best part to untie

spring. (By ruining the jail) from lust and wrath,

Nor that your fame should range, And every drowsy languor here beneath,

And after-worlds it blow
To be made deniz'd citizen of sky;

From Tanais to Nile, from Nile to Gange.
To have more knowledge than all books contain,
All pleasures even surmounting wishing pow'r,

“ All these have not the pow'r The fellowship of God's immortal train,

To free the mind from fears, And these that time nor force shall e'er devour :

Nor hideous horrour can allay one hour, If this be death, what joy, what golden care

When Death in stealth doth glance,
Of life, can with death's ugliness compare ?

In sickness lurks or years,
And wakes the soul from out her mortal trance,

“ No, but blest life is this,

With chaste and pure desire
To turn unto the load-star of all bliss,

On God the mind to rest,

Burnt up with sacred fire,
Possessing him to be by him possest:

AMIDST the azure clear

Of Jordan's sacred streams,
Jordan, of Lebanon the offspring dear,

When zephyrs flow'rs unclose,

And Sun shines with new beams,
With grave and stately grace a nymph arose.

Upon her head she wear

Of amaranths a crown;
Her left hand palms, her right a torch did bear;

Unveil'd skin's whiteness lay,

Gold hairs in curls hung down,
Eyes sparkled joy, more bright than star of day.

The flood a throne her rear'd

Of waves, most like that Heaven
Where beaming stars in glory turn enspber'd:

The air stood calm and clear,

No sigh by winds was given,
Birds left to sing, herds feed, her voice to hear.

“ When to the balmy east

Sun doth his light impart,
Or when he diveth in the lowly west,

And ravisheth the day,

With spotless hand and heart,
Him cheerfully to praise, and to him pray:

“ To heed each action so

As ever in his sight,
More fearing doing ill than passive woe;

Not to seem other thing

Than what ye are aright;
Never to do what may repentance bring:


" Not to be blown with pride,

As far beyond the starry walls of Heaven,
Nor mov'd at glory's breath,

As is the loftiest of the planets sesen,
Which shadow-like on wings of time doth glide; Sequester'd from this Earth jo purest light,
So malice to disarm,

Out-shining ours, as ours doth sable night,
And conquer hasty wrath,

Thou all-sufficient, omnipotent,
As to do good to those that work your harm: Thou ever glorious, most excelent,

God various in names, in esence one, “ To hatch no base desires,

High art installed on a golden throne, Or gold or land to gain,

Out-stretching Heaven's wide bespangled rault, Well pleas'd with that which virtue fair acquires; Transcending all the circles of our thought; To have the wit and will

With diamantine sceptre in thy hand, (mand, Consorting in one strain,

There thou giv'st laws, and dost this world conThan what is good to have no higher skill :

This world of concords rais'd unlikely sweet,

Which like a ball lies prostrate at thy feet. “ Never on neighbour's goods,

If so we may well say, (and what we say With cockatrice's eye

Here wrapp'd in fesh, led by dim reason's rap, To look, nor make another's heaven your hell; To show, by earthly beauties which we see, Nor to be beauty's thrall;

That spiritual excellence that shines in thee, All fruitless love to fly,

Good Lord forgive) not far from thy right side, Yet loving still a love transcendent all;

With curled locks Youth ever doh abide;

Rose-cheeked Youth, who garlanded with foam “ A love, which, while it burns

Still blooming, ceaselessly unto thee pours The soul with fairest beams,

Immortal nectar in a cup of gold, To that Increated Sun the soul it turns,

That by no darts of ages thou grow old; And makes such beauty prove,

And as ends and beginnings thee not claim, That, if sense saw her gleams,

Successionless that thou be still the same. All lookers-on would pine and die for love.

Near to thy other side resistless Might,

From head to foot in burnish'd arnour dicht, " Who such a life doth live

That rings about him, with a waving brand,
You happy ever may call,

And watchful eye, great centinel doth stand; Ere ruthless Death a wished end him give; That neither time nor force in aught impair And after then when given,

Thy workmanship, nor harm thipe empire fair; More happy by his fall,

Soon to give death to all again that would For humanes, Earth, enjoying angels, Heaven. Stern Discord raise, wbich thou destroy'd of old;

Discord, tbat foe to order, nurse of war, “ Swift is your mortal race,

By which the noblest things demolish'd are: And glassy is the field;

But, caitiff! she no treason doth devise, Vast are desires not limited by grace:

When Might to nought doth bring her enterprx:
Life a weak taper is ;

Thy all-upholding Might her malice reins.
Then while it light doth yield,

And her to Hell throws, bound in iron cbaias. Leave flying joys, embrace this lasting bliss.” With locks in waves of gold, that ebb and for

On ivory neck, in robes more white than snow,
This when the nymph had said,

Truth stedfastly before thee holds a glass,
She div'd within the flood,

Indent with gems, where shineth all that us, Whose face with smiling curls long after staid; That is, or shall be, here ere aught was wrougt. Then sighs did zephyrs press,

Thou knew allthat thy pow'rwith time forth broarta Birds sang from every wood,

And more, tħings numberless which thou could And echoes rang, “ This was true happiness." That actually shall never being take; (make

Here thou behold'st thyself, and, strange! dos pron
At once the beauty, lover, and the love.

With faces two, like sisters, sweetly fair,

Whose blossoms no rough autumn can impair, HYMN ON THE PAIREST FAIR.

Stands Providence, and doth ber looks disperse

Through every corner of this universe;
I FEEL my bosom glow with wontless fires,
Rais'd from the vulgar press my mind aspires,

Thy Providence, at once wbich general tbings

And singular doth rule, as empires kings; Wing'd with high thoughts, unto his praise to climb, Without whose care this world last would remaa From deep eternity, who callid forth time; As ship without a master in the main, That essence which; not mov'd, makes each thing As chariot alone, as bodies prove Uncreate beauty, all-creating love: (move, Deprived of souls, whereby they be, lire, inore. But by so great an object, radiant light,

But who are they which shine thy throne sex My heart apallid, enfeebled rests my sight, With sacred countenance and look severe? Thick clouds benight my labouring engine, And at my high attempts my wits repine.

This in one hand a pond'rous spurd doth bold, If thou in me this sacred heat hast wrought,

Her left stays charg'd with balances of gold; My knowledge sharpen, sarcels lend my thought:

That, with brows girt with bays, sweet-smilag

Doth bear a brandon with a babish grace: Grant me, Time's Father, world-containing King, Two milk-white wings him easily do more; A pow'r of thee in pow'rful lays to sing ;

0! she thy Justice is, and this thy Love! That as thy beauty in Earth lives, Heaven shines, By this thou brought'st this engine great to light, It dawning may of shadow in my lines.

By that it fram'd in qumber, measure, weg,


That destine doth reward to ill and good :

Till mounting some tall mountain, he do find But sway of Justice is by Love witbstood,

More heights before him than he left behind : Which did it not relent, and mildly stay,

With halting pace so while I would me raise This world ere now had found its funeral day. To tbe unbounded limits of thy praise,

What bands, encluster'd, near to these abide, Some part of way I thought to have o'er-run, Which into vast infinity them hide !

But now I see how scarce I have begun; Infinity that neither doth admit

With wonders new my spirits range possest, Place, time, nor number to encroach on it. And wandering wayless in a maze them rest. Here Bounty sparkleth, here doth Beauty shine, In these vast fields of light, ethereal plaius, Simplicity, more white than gelsomine,

Thou art attended by immortal trains Mercy with open wings, aye-varied Bliss,

Of intellectual pow'rs, which thou brought'st forth Glory, and Joy, that Bliss's darling is.

To praise thy goodness, and admire thy worth, laeffable, all-pow'rful God, all free,

In numbers passing other creatures far, Thou only liv'st, and each thing lives by thee; Since most in number noblest creatures are, No joy, do, nor perfection to thee came

Wbich do in kpowledge us not less outrun By the contrivivg of this world's great frame: Than Moon in light doth stars, or Moon the Sun; Ere Sun, Moon, stars began their restless race, Unlike, in orders rang'd and many a band, Ere painted was with light Heaven's pure face, (If beauty in disparity doth stand) Ere air had clouds, ere clouds wept down their Archangels, angels, cherubs, seraphines, show'rs,

And what with name of thrones amongst them shines, Ere sea embraced earth, ere earth bare flow'rs, Large-ruling princes, dominations, pow'rs, Thou happy liv’dst; world nought to thee supply'd, All-acting virtues of those flaming tow'rs: All in thyself thyself thou satisfy'd :

These freed of umbrage, these of labour free, Of good po slender shadow doth appear,

Rest ravished with still beholding thee; No age-woru track, which shin’d in thee not clear, Inflam'd with beams which sparkle from thy face, Perfection's sum, prime cause of every cause,

They can no more desire, far less embrace. Midst, end, beginning where all good doth pause:

Low under them, with slow and staggering pace Hence of thy substance, differing in nought,

Thy hand-maid Nature thy great steps doth trace, Thou in eternity thy son forth brought;

The sonrce of second causes golden chain, The only birth of thy unchanging mind,

That links this frame as thou it doth ordain. Thine image, pattern-like that ever sbin'd; Nature gaz'd on with such a curious eye, Light out of light, begotten not by will,

That earthlings oft her deem'd a deity. But nature, all and that same essence still By Nature led, those bodies fair and great, Which thou thyself, for thou dost nought possess Which faint not in their course, nor change their Which he hath not, in aught nor is he less

Unintermix'd, which no disorder prove, [state, Thau thee his great begetter; of this light, Though aye and contrary they always move, Eternal, double-kindled was thy spright

The organs of thy providence divine, Eternally, who is with thee the same,

Books ever open, signs that clearly shine; All-holy gift, ambassador, knot, flame:

Time's purpled maskers then do them advance, Most sacred Triad, O most holy One!

As by sweet music in a measur'd dance; Unprocreate Father, ever procreare Son, [be, Stars, host of Heaven, ye firmaments, bright flow'rs, Ghost breath'd from both, you were, are still, shall Clear lamps which overbang this stage of ours, (Most blessed) Three in One, and Oue in Three, Ye turn not there to deck the weeds of night, Incomprehensible by reachless height,

Nor, pageant like, to please the vulgar sight: And upperceived by excessive light.

Great causes, sure ye must bring great effects; So in our souls three and yet one are still, But who can descant right your grave aspects ? The understanding, memory, and will;

He only who you wade decypher can So (though unlike) the planet of the days, Your notes; Heaven's eyes, ye blind the eyes of man. Su soon as he was made, begat bis rays,

Amidst these sapphire far-extending heights, Which are his offspring, and from both was hurla The never-twinkling, ever wand'ring lights The rosy light which consolates the world, Their fixed motions keep; one dry and cold, And none forewent another : so the spring, Deep-leaden colour'd, slowly there is roll’d, The well-bead, and the stream wbich they forth With rule and line for Time's steps meeting eren, bring,

In twice three lustres he but turns his heaven. Are bilt one self-same esserce, nor in augbt With temperate qualities and countenance fair, Do differ, save in order; and our thought

Still mildly smiling, sweetly debonnaire, No chime of time discerns in them to fall,

Another cheers the world, and way doth make But three distinctly 'bide one essence all.

In twice six autumns through the zodiac. But these express not thee. Who can declare But hot and dry with flaming locks and brows Thy being? Men and angels dazzled are.

Enrag'd, this in his red pavilion glows: Who would this Eden force with wit or sense, Together running with like speed, if space, A cherubin shall find to bar him thence.

Two equally in hands achieve their race; Great Architect, Lord of this universe,

With blushing face this oft doth bring the day, That light is blinded would thy greatness pierce. And ushers oft to stately stars the way ; Ah! as a pilgrim who the Alps doth pass,

That various in virtue, changing, light, Or, Atlas' temples crown'd with winter glass, With his small fame impearls the vail of night. The airy Caucasus, the Apennine,

Prince of this court, the Sun in triumph rides, Pyrenees' clifts where Sun doth never shine, With the year snake-like in herself that glides, When he some craggy hills hath overwent, Time's dispensator, fair life-giving source, Begins to think on rest, his journey spent, Through sky's twelve posts as he doth run bis course; Heart of this all, of what is known to sense, They would not reel in aught, nor wand'ring stras, The likest to his Maker's excellence;

But draw to thee, wbo could their centres stay; In wbose diurnal motion doth appear

Were but one hour this world disjoin'd from thee, A shadow, no true portrait of the year.

It in one hour to nought reduc'd should be. The Moon moves lowest, silver sun of night, For it thy shadow is; and can they last, Dispersing through the world her borrow'd light; If sever'd from the substances them cast ? Who in three forms her head abroad doth range, 0! only bless'd, and Author of all bliss ! And only constant is in constant change.

No, bliss itself, that all-where wished is; Sad queen of silence, I ne'er see thy face Efficient, exemplary, final good, To wax, or wane, or shine with a full grace, Of thine own self but only understood : But straight, amaz'd, on man I think, each day Light is thy curtain : thou art Light of light; His state who changeth, or if he find stay,

An ever-waking eye still shining bright It is ju doleful anguish, cares, and pains,

In-looking all, exempt of passive pow'r, And of his labours death is all the gains.

And change, in change since Death's pale shade Immortal Monarch, can so fond a thought

doth low'r: Lodge in my breast, as to trust thou first brought All times to thee are one; that which bath run, Here in Earth's shady cloister, wretched man, And that which is not brought yet by the San, To suck the air of woe, to spend life's span To thee are present, who dost always see Midst sighs and plaints, a stranger unto mirth, In present act, what past is, or to be. To give himself his death rebuking birth?

Day-livers, we rememberance do lose By sense and wit of creatures made king,

Of ages worn, so miseries us toss, By sense and wit to live their underling?

(Blind and lethargic of thy heavenly grace, And what is worst, have eaglets eyes to see Which sin in our first parents did deface; His own disgrace, and know an high degree And even while embrions curst by justest doom) Of bliss, the place, if he might thereto climb, That we neglect what gone is, or to come; And not live thralled to imperious time?

But thou in thy great archives scrolled hast, Or, dotard ! shall I so from reason swerve,

In parts and whole, whatever yet hath past, To dim those lights, which to our use do serve,

Since first the marble wheels of Time were rollid, For thou dost not them need, more nobly fram'd As ever living, never waxing old, Than us, that know their course, and have them Still is the same thy day and yesterday, nam'd?

An undivided now, a constant aye. No, I ne'er think but we did them sorpass

O! king, whose greatness none can comprebend, As far as they do asterisms of glass.

Whose boundless goodness doth to all exterd; When thou us made, by treason high defild, Light of all beauty, ocean without ground, Thrust from our first estate, we live exil'd, That standing, flowest; giving, dost abound; Wand'ring this Earth, which is of Death the lot, Rich palace, and in-deeller, ever blest, Where he doth use the power which he hath got, Never not working, ever yet in rest : Indifferent umpire unto clowns and kings,

What wit cannot conceive, words say of thee, The supreme monarch of all mortal things. Here where we as but in a mirror see,

When first this flow'ry orb was to us given, Shadows of shadows, atoms of thy might, It but a place disvalu'd was to Heaven:

Still owely-eyed when staring on thy light; These creatures which now our sovereigns are, Grant, that, released from this earthly jail, [rel, And, as to rebels, do denounce us war,

And freed from clouds, which bere our kooala, Then were our vassals; no tumultuous storm, In Heaven's high temples where thy praises risi, No thunders, earthquakes, did her form deform; In sweeter notes I may hear angels sing. The seas in tumbling mountains did not roar, But like moist crystal whisper'd on the shore; No suake did trace ber meads, nor ambush'd low'r

Great God, whom we with humbled thoughts adute, In azure curls beneath the sweet spring flow'r; Eternal, infinite, almighty King, The nightshade, henbane, napel, aconite,

Whose dwellings Heaven transcend, whose throue Her bowels then pot bear, with death to smite

before Her guiltless brood: thy messengers of grace, Archangels serve, and seraphim do sing; As their high rounds, did haunt this lower place. Of dought who wrought all that with sond'ring ets O joy of joys! with our first parents thou

We do behold within this various round; To commune then didst deign, as friends do now: Who makes the rocks to rock, to stand the skies: Against thee we rebell’d, and justiy thus

At whose command clouds peals of thunder soud Each creature rebelled against us;

Ah! spare us worms, weigh nut how we, alas! Earth, reft of what did chief in her excel,

Evil to ourselves, against thy laws rebel; To all became a jail, to most a Hell:

Wash off those spots, which still in conscience' glass, In time's full term, until thy Son was given, Though we be loath to look, we see too well. Wbo man with thee, Earth reconcil'd with Heaven. Deserv'd revenge, Oh! do not, do not take:

Whole and entire, all in thyself thou art; If thou revenge, who shall abide thy blow? All-where diffus'd, yet of this all no part:

Pass sball this world, this world which thou dd: For infinite, in making this fair frame,

make, Great without quantity, in all thou came; Which should not perish till thy trumpet blor. And filling all, how can thy state admit,

What soul is found whose parent's crime not stas Or place or substance to be void of it?

Or what with its own sins defil'd is not ? Were worlds as many as the rays which stream Though Justice rigour threaten, yet ber reins From day's bright lamp, or madding wits do dream, Let Mercy guide, and never be forgot.


Less are our faults, far, far than is thy love: Fain would she trophies to thy virtues rear: O! what can better seem thy grace divine, But for this stately task she is not strong, Than they, who plagues deserve, thy bounty proves And her defects her high attempts do wrong: And where thou show'r may'st vengeance, there to | Yet as she could she makes thy worth appear. Then look and pity; pitying, forgive [shine! So in a map is shown this flow'ry place; Us guilty slaves, or servants now in thrall; Slaves if alas! thou look how we do live,

So wrought in arras by a virgiu's hand, Cr doing ill, or doing nought at all;

With Heaven and blazing stars doth Atlas stand; Of an ungrateful mind the foul effect.

So drawn by charcoal is Narcissus' face: But if thy gifts, wnich largely heretofore

She like the morn may be to some bright sun, Thou hast upon us poor'd, thou dost respect,

The day to perfect that's by her begun.
We are thy servants, nay, than servants more,
Thy children; yes, and children dearly bought:
But what strange chance us of this lot bereaves ?
Poor, worthless wights, how lowly are we brought!
Whom grace once children made, sin hath made


[break, Sin hath made slaves, but let those bands grace Whar blust'ring noise now interrupts my sleeps? That in our wrongs thy mercies may appear: Thy wisdom not so mean is, pow'r so weak,

What echoing shouts thus cleave my crystal deeps? But thousand ways they can make worlds thee fear. And seem to call me from my watry court? O wisdom boundless! O miraculous grace!

What melody, what sounds of joy and sport, Grace, wisdom which make wink dim reason's eye! Are convey'd hither from each night-born spring? And could Heaven's King bring from his placeless With what loud rumours do the mountains ring, On this ignoble stage of care to die; [place,

Which in unusual pomp on tip-toes stand, To die our death, and with the sacred stream And, full of wonder, overlook the land? [bright, Of blood and water gushing from his side,

Whence come these glittring throngs, these meteors To make us clean of that contagious blame,

This golden people glancing in my sight? Pirst on us brought by our first parent's pride!

Whence doth this praise, applause, and love arise? Thus thy great love and pity, heavenly king !

What load-star eastward draweth thus all eyes ? Lore, pity, which so well our loss prevent,

Am I awake? Or have some dreams conspir'd Of evil itself, lo! could all goorlness bring,

To mock my sense with what I most desir'd ? And sad beginning cheer with glad event.

View I that living face, see I those looks, - love and pity! ill known of these times ! Which with delight were wont t'amaze my brooks? ) love and pity ! careful of our need!

Do I behold that worth, that man divine, ) bounties! which our horrid acts and crimes,

This age's glory, by these banks of mine ? grown numberless, contend near to exceed.

Then find I true what long I wish'd in vain ; Make this excessive ardour of thy love

My mucb-beloved prince is come again. io warm our coldness, so our lives renew,

So unto them whose zenith is the pole, "bat we from sin, sin may from us remove,

When six black months are past, the Sun doth roll: Visdom our will, faith may our wit subdue. So after tempest to sea-tossed wights, et thy pure love burn up all worldly lust,

Fair Helen's brothers show their clearing lights: Jell's candid poison killing our best part,

So comes Arabia's wonder from her woods, Vhich makes us joy in toys, adore frail dust

And far, far off is seen by Memphis' Aloods; astead of thee, in temple of our heart.

The feather'd sylvans, cloud-like, by her fly, Grant, when at last our souls these bodies leave, And with triumphing plaudits beat the sky ; Cheir loathsome shops of sin and mansions blind,

Nile marvels, Serap's priests entranced rave, ind doom before thy royal seat receive,

And in Mygdonian stove her shape engrave; saviour more than judge they thee may find.

In lasting cedars they do mark the time
In which Apollo's bird came to their clime.

Let mother Earth now deck d with flow'rs be seen,
And sweet-breath'd zephyrscurl the meadows green:

Let Heaven weep rubies in a crimson show'r,

Such as on India's shores they use to pour:
Or with that golden storın the fields adorn,

Which Jove rain'd when his blue-eyed maid was born.

May never Hours the web of day out-weave,

May never Night rise from her sable cave!
EING A PANEGYRIC TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE Swell proud, my billows, faint not to declare
JAMES, KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, FRANCÉ AND IRE- Your joys as ample as their causes are:

Por murmurs hoarse sound like Arion's harp,
Now delicately flat, now sweetly sharp.
And you, my nymphs, rise from your moist repair,

Strew all your springs and grots with lilies fair:

Some swiftest-footed, get them hence, and pray

Our floods and lakes come keep this holiday; Fin this storm of joy and pompous throng, Whate'er beneath Albania's hills do run, This nymph, great king, doth come to thee so near, Which see the rising, or the setting Sun, 'hat thy harmonions ears her accents hear, Which drink stern Grampus' mists, or Ochel's snows: rive pardon to lier hoarse and lowly song. Stone-rolling Tay, Tine tortoise-like that flows,





« НазадПродовжити »