PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY In XX. CANTO'S: Displaying the Intercourse Betwixt CHRIST, and the SOUL.  
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S. Greg. Naz. in de Carminib. suis.  
By JOSEPH BEAUMONT, Mr. in Arts and Ejected Fellow of S. Peter's College in Cambridge.  
LONDON, Printed by John Dawson for George Boddington, and are to be sold at his Shop in Chancery-lain near Serjants-lnn.  
M. D. C. XL. VIII.   

INTO THE MOST SACRED TREASURY OF THE Praise and Glory OF Incarnate GOD, The World's most Merciful REDEEMER; THE Unworthiest of His Majesty's CREATURES, in all possible Prostrate VENERATION, Beggs Leave to Cast This His DEDICATED MITE.   

The AUTHOR to the READER.  
THE Turbulence of these Times having deprived me of my wont Accommodations of Study; I deliberated, For the avoiding of mere Idleness, what Task I might safeliest presume upon, without the Society of Books: And concluded upon Composing this Poem. In which I endeavour to represent a Soul led by divine Grace, and her Guardian Angel, (in fervent Devotion,) through the difficult Temptations and Assaults of Lust, of Pride, of Heresy, of Persecution, and of Spiritual Dereliction, to a holy and happy Departure from temporal Life, to heavenly Felicity: Displaying by the way, the Magnalia Christi, his Incarnation and Nativity; his Flight into Egypt, his Fasting and Temptation, his chief Miracles, his being Sold and Betrayed, his Institution of the Holy Eucharist, his Passion, his Resurrection and Ascension; Which were his mighty Testimonies of his Love, to the Soul.  
I am not ignorant, that very few Men are competent Readers of Poems, the true Genius of Poetry being little regarded, or rather not subject at all to common Capacities: so that a discourse upon this Theme would be to small purpose. I know also, how little Prefacing Apologies use to be credited: Wherefore, though I had much (very much) to say, and justly, in this kind, I will venture to cast myself upon thy Ingenuity, with this only Protestation, that If any thing throughout this whole Poem, happen [against my intention] to prove Discord to the Consent of Christ's Catholic Church, I here Recant it aforehand.  
My Desire is, That this Book may prompt better Wits to believe, that a Divine Theme is as capable and happy a Subject of Poetical Ornament, as any Pagan or Humane Device whatsoever. Which if I can obtain, and (into the Bargain,) Charm my Readers into any true degree of Devotion, I shall be bold to hope that I have partly reached my proposed Mark, and not continued merely Idle.  
J. B.   

A Syllable of the CANTOS.  

1. The Preparative  
2. Lust Conquered  
3. The Girdle, or Love-token  
4. The Rebellion  
5. The Pacification  
6. The Humiliation  
7. The Great Little one  
8. The Pilgrimage  
9 The Temptation  
10. The Marveils  
11. The Traitor  
12. The Banquet  
13. The Death of Love  
14. The Triumph of Love  
15. The Poison  
16. The Antidote  
17. The Mortification  
18. The Persecution  
19 The Dereliction  
20. The Consummation.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY, In XX. Cantos; CANTO 1. The Preparative.  
ARGUMENT.  

Enraged at Heaven and Psyche, Satan lays  
His plots how to beguile the tender Maid.  
Phylax mean while a contrework doth raise,  
And mustereth Joseph's Legend to her aid;  
That strengthened by this chaste example, she  
To lusts Assaults impregnable might be.   

1.  
ETernal Love, of sweetest Poetry  
The sweeter King, before thy gentle throne  
Deign to behold prostrate Vow, and me:  
No Muse, no Gods, but thy sweet power alone  
I invocate; for both his heads full low  
Parnassus to thy Paradise doth bow.   

2.  
Thy Paradise, amongst whose Hills of Joy  
Those Springs of everlasting Vigour run  
Which makes souls drunk with heaven, cleansing away  
All earth from Dust, and angelizing men.  
Great David and his Son, drenched in these streams,  
With Poet's wreaths did crown their Diadems.   

3.  
Defiance other Helicons! O may  
These precious founts my Vow and heart refine!  
Dear Love, thou art my task: If ever bay  
Hereafter court my Muse, it shall be thine.  
My soul untuned, unstrung doth wait on thee  
To teach her how to sing thy MYSTERY.   

4.  
A MYSTERY wrapped in so close a cloud  
That 
* the Soul.  Psyche's young and well-acquainted eye  
Staggers about it: yet more shades do crowd  
And heap their night upon its secrisie:  
Fierce Belzebub, who doth in blackness dwell,  
Would fain have all things else as dark as Hell.   

5.  
For He th' immortal Prince of equal spite  
Abhors all Love in every name and kind;  
But chiefly that which burns with flames as bright  
As his are dark, and which as long shall find  
Their living fuel: These enrage Him so,  
That all Hel's Furies must to council go.   

6.  
For as the wounded Lion in his Den  
Roar's out his grief; so from his boiling heart  
A hideous groan broke forth, which thundering in  
His hollow Realm, bellowed to every Part  
The frightful summons: All the Peers below.  
Their King's voice by its sovereign stink did know.   

7.  
Nor dared they stay, by kembing to make neat  
Their snarled Snakes, or draw their Tails huge trains  
Into a knot, or trim their cloven feet  
With iron shoes, or gather up their Chains:  
Only their hands they fill with Rage, and bring  
That common Subsidy unto their King.   

8.  
Hel's Court is built deep in a gloomy Vale,  
High walled with strong Damnation, moated round  
With flaming Brimstone: right against the Hall  
Burns a black bridge of brass; the yards abound  
With all envenomed Herbs and Trees, more rank  
And fruitless than on Asphaltite's bank.   

9  
The Gate, where fire and smoak the Porters be,  
Stands always open to them that be without:  
Hither flocked all the states of misery,  
As younger Snakes, though crawling far about,  
When the old Serpent's hisses summon them,  
Into her patent mouth of poison stream.   

10.  
The Hall was roofed with everlasting Pride,  
Deep paved with Despair, chequered with spite.  
The Hangings were of Torments fair and wide:  
The upper end presented to their sight  
Great Satan's Arms, drawn in an iron shield,  
A Crowned Dragon Gules in sable field.   

11.  
On his immortal throne of Death they see  
Their mounted Lord, who in one hand did bear  
His Globe, (for all the world He takes to be  
By right his own,) and in the other wear  
His Mace, on which ten thousand Serpents knit,  
With restless madness, gnawed themselves and it.   

12.  
His awful Horns above his Crown did rise,  
And made them shrink in theirs; his Forehead Was  
Plated with triple Impudence; his Eyes  
Were Hell reflected in a double Glass,  
Two Comets stareing in their bloody stream;  
Two Beacons boiling with their pitch and flame.   

13.  
His Mouth well-neer as wide's his Palace Door,  
But much more black: his Cheeks which never could  
Blush in their own, had raked the world for store,  
And deeply died their guilt in humane Blood.  
His griezly Beard all singed, did confess  
What kind of Breath used through his lips to press.   

14.  
Which as he opened, the Centre, on whose back  
His Chair of ever-fretting Pain was set,  
Frighted beside itself began to quake:  
Throughout all Hell the barking Hydra's shut  
Their awed mouths: The silent Peers in fear  
Hung down their tails, and to their Lord gave ear.   

15.  
Three times he shaked his Horns; three times his Mace  
He brandished towards Heaven; three times he spewed  
Live sulphur upward, which when on his face  
It soused back, foul Blasphemy ensued,  
So big, so loud, that his huge Mouth was split  
To make a passage to his Rage and it.   

16.  
I yield not yet; Defiance Heaven, said He,  
And though I cannot reach thee with my fire,  
Or sceptre, yet my Brain shall able be  
To grapple with thee, nor canst thou be higher  
Than my brave spite: Know, though below I dwell,  
Heaven has no stouter hearts than live in Hell.   

17.  
For all thy confident Promise to the Seed  
Of Dust-begotten Man, my Head is here  
Unbroken still: When thy proud foot did tread  
Me down from my own spheres, my Forehead there  
Both met and scorned the Blow; and thou at first  
(What e'er thou talk'st to Man) didst do thy worst.   

18.  
Courage my Lords; ye are the same who once  
Ventured upon that high Design with me  
Against the Tyrant, called Heavens righteous Prince,  
What though Chance stole from us the Victory?  
'Twas the first time we fought; and he being in  
His own Dominion might more easily win.   

19  
How often since have we met him mid way,  
And in th' indifferent World not vainly fought!  
Witness those Prisons where our numerous Prey  
Lies chained up, which we from Earth have brought.  
Are they not Men of the same flesh and blood,  
With that same Christ, who needs would be a God?   

20.  
A pretty God, whom easily, I of late  
Caused to be fairly hanged. Indeed he came  
By stealth, and in the night broke open Hel's gate:  
But snatched he any Captive hence, that Fame  
Might speak him valiant? No, he knew too well  
That I was King, and you the Peers of Hell.   

21.  
But yet to save his wretched credit, He  
Hied him beyond that Gulf to Abraham's Den,  
Who for his ready inhumanity  
Was dubbed the Father of all faithful Men:  
How much less, Pilate, was thy crime I yet thou  
(O righteous Heaven!) now yellest here below.   

22.  
His willing Captives thence He won; (but how  
Forlorn a Prize, by Lazarus you may see,  
Who the late pity of vile Dogs, was now  
A special Saint:) And this vain victory  
Homeward He bore, with Banner proudly spread,  
As if with his own Bloodt ' had not been red.   

23.  
Me thinks I could permit him to possess  
That sneaking honour, so he strove not how  
My Subjects from their loyalty to press,  
And mortal Men to his obedience draw.  
But, by my wrath I swear, I'll make him know  
That of the Air I am the sovereign too,   

24.  
Was't not enough, against the righteous Law  
Of Primogeniture, to throw Us down  
From that bright home, which all the world does know  
Was by confessed inheritance our own:  
But, to our shame, Man, that vile worm, must dwell  
In our fair Orbs, and Heaven with Vermin fill?   

25.  
Ten thousand tricks and charms and mystic arts,  
With all the blandishments of his sweet things,  
He doth employ, to woe these silly hearts:  
Doubtless much like a God his Powers he brings  
Into the field to gain his victory;  
Yet who, forsooth, the tempters are, but We?   

26.  
Psyche, a simple thing, I wot, and one  
Whom I as deeply scorn, as Him I spite,  
He seek's to make his Prize; Psyche alone  
Takes up his amorous thoughts both day and night.  
Were't not our wrong, I could contented be  
The King of Heaven had such a Spouse as She.   

27.  
But She is ours; I have designed a Place  
That must be hers, amidst you brimstone lake,  
Which shall revenge whatever in her face  
Does now her lusty God a wooer make.  
He promised her that with the Angels she  
Should live; and so she shall, but those are We,   

28.  
Lust, thou shalt give the Onset: Quickly dress  
Thyself with every bravery that my  
Aerial kingdom yields, and subt'lie press  
Our contreplot: Remember but how thy  
Sweet powers did once a mighty King subvert,  
However famed to be After God's heart.   

29.  
Then Philautie and Pride, her breast shall fill  
With swelling poison, and make her disdain  
heavens narrow gate, whilst wealth itself doth spill  
Into her bosom in a golden rain,  
That she may seem too rich to match with One  
Of a poor Carpenter the poorer Son.   

30.  
If still demure and godly she will be;  
Let Heresy teach her to grow too wise  
To take up points on trust, and fooled be  
By saucy Faith plainly against her eyes.  
Then let despair, my dear despair, not fail  
Her Soul with Hell aforehand to assail.   

31.  
Nor shall the service unrewarded be,  
Checking my royal bounty, as grown poor;  
The Fiend who captive Psyche bring's to me,  
Shall her sole torturer be, and twenty more  
I'll to his jurisdiction add, that ye  
May know your Sovereign scorns in debt to be.   

32.  
Nay, for his greater honour, every night  
Seven lashes he shall have at Cain's fell heart  
And seven at Judas his; nor from my sight  
Henceforth on any work shall he depart,  
But here at my right hand shall seated be  
For ever, and blaspheam the next to me.   

33.  
Go then, in god's name, but that god am I,  
And may my blessing go along with you:  
If we that wench can catch, our subtlety  
Will torture Christ, though all heavens joys do flow  
About him, and we shall revenge this pain  
In which the tyrant doth all Us detain.   

34.  
This said: the Senate with an hideous Roar  
Applaud their Prince, and the designed Fiends  
Their snakey heads thrice bowing to the floor  
Take their damned leave. With that a tempest rends  
Hel's wide mouth wider open, that through the gate  
Their cursed Progress they may make in state.   

35.  
Old Tellus wondered what the treason was  
Which then tore up her bowels; for as from  
The monstrous Canon's thundering mouth of brass  
A sudden cloud of rage, and death doth foam,  
So from beneath these hasty Furies broke;  
Such was the flashing fire, and such the smoke.   

36.  
But greater was the stink: the flowers, they say,  
Frighted from their own sweets, grew faint and died;  
Stout trees which had endured many a day  
The worst of blasts, could not this breath abide;  
Only some venomous weeds, whose roots from hell  
Suck in their deadly living, liked it well.   

37.  
Lust goes to work the first: a Spirit as foul  
As he's ambitious beautiful to seem.  
Uncleanness keep's her Court amidst his Soul,  
And Poison at his mouth her breath doth stream.  
Black is the fire that burneth in his eye,  
Diseases thick in every member lie.   

38.  
But Circe's and Medea's arts he knew;  
For he their tutor was The purest air  
Which on mount Liban virgin sweetness blew  
With magic nimbleness he doth prepare,  
And mould's it up so close, that it can take  
The shape of any Lie he's pleased to make,   

39  
And thus the Nymph which was so lose before,  
And at the mercy of each busy blast,  
Becomes a stiff stout man: whose face to store  
With beauty's purest charms, unto the East  
The spirit flies, and in Aurora's cheeks  
The best of oriental sweetness seek's.   

40.  
But knowing that his breath was rank, and spoke  
The place from whence he came; he turns his flight  
Into Arabia's gardens, whence he took  
The flower of every flower, and spice which might  
Perfume his words, that from that double bed  
Of his soft lips, he vocal Balm might shed.   

41.  
The silk worm's wealth, the dainty ermin's skin,  
And every thing that makes young Princes fine,  
Into one gorgeous suit he crowds; and in  
Each seam and jag doth gold and pearl in twine.  
For in his passage, as through earth he broke,  
Great store of these he from her bowels took.   

42.  
But for the fashion, he was fain to run  
To Court, and see how gallants there were dressed,  
Men of more various transformations, than  
In Proteus wit and fiction e'er expressed.  
Thus at the last accoutred to his mind  
He plots where Psyche he may safest sinde.   

43.  
Sheeall the morning was retired at home  
Close in the sweets of his dear company  
Who from her Lord, the King of Souls, was come  
His restless but delicious suit to ply,  
And, with exact attendance see the maid  
Might to no sudden danger be betrayed.   

44.  
In his al-ravishing looks you might descry  
More real sweets than Lust in his had feigned;  
Heaven clearly looked out at either eye,  
And in his cheeks ten thousand graces reigned;  
As many little loves their nests had made  
In the curled amber of his dainty head.   

45.  
He from the Rainbow, as he came that way,  
Borrowed the best of all that gorgeous store  
Which after gloominess doth make heaven gay,  
And it about his mantles border wore:  
A mantle spun of milky down which from  
The Birds of his own Paradise did come.   

46.  
Upon his lovely shoulders dwelled a pair  
Of correspondent wings; the driven snow  
On Scythian mountains doth in vain compare  
Its virgin plums with these, which fear no thaw:  
Less white, less soft are they, and will at last  
In melting tears confess they are surpassed.   

47.  
High is his great extraction, full as high  
As is the loftiest and the purest sphere:  
There dwells his father Prince of Majesty;  
And millions of his brethren are there,  
Who all are Princes too: that land alone  
Numberless Kingdoms doth contain in one.   

48.  
When Psyche first was born, his wing he spread  
With ready tenderness her to embrace,  
That she might rest in that delicious Bed,  
To which all other Feathers must give place:  
Great was the Mother's care and love, but yet  
The Infant was to 
* The guardian Angel.  Phylax more in debt.   

49.  
That was his Name; and sure he made it good:  
No tutor ever spent more learned care,  
The stoutest Champion never bravelier stood  
For those who under his protection were,  
Than Phylax did for Psyche, being able  
To prove himself as strong, as she was feeble.   

50.  
No Danger ever drew its forces near,  
But he was nearer still, and did withstand  
All plots of mischief that encountered her,  
Arming her feebler Arm with his strong hand:  
While she was weak and knew not how to go,  
He flew about, her business to do.   

51.  
As she grew greater, so his care did grow:  
Her weaning time being come, he spends his art  
To make her quite disrelish things below,  
Which likelier were to cheat and choke the heart,  
Then make it live its proper life; for she  
Was born to live unto eternity.   

52.  
When she had learned to build a word aright,  
He taught her heaven's high language, and the song  
Which lately in the choir of sovereign light  
Incessantly dwelled upon his own tongue;  
Desiring virtue might be her first growth,  
And Halalujah broach her holy mouth.   

53.  
But when she well could go, and well discern  
The way she went; he spread before her eye  
Ten goodly Paths; and these you needs must learn  
Says he, to trace, as leading to the high  
Gate of beatitude; God's own hand did  
Draw all these tracts upon mount Sina's head.   

54.  
Lo here is room enough: the King's highway  
Less kingly is then this; All Hero's who  
Have climbed above the world, wished not to stray  
Beyond these bounds: Be but content to go  
Where Saints, and where thy Lord before hath gone,  
That thou mayest overtake him at his throne.   

55.  
Thus did he gently grave upon her heart  
The Characters of bliss; thus every day  
He reads some lecture, lest the tempters art  
Her young and pliant Soul should make his prey:  
But they this morning being all alone,  
She begged a story, and he told her one.   

56.  
My Dear, said he, there was a youth of old  
Almost as young, and no less fair than thou;  
Upon his head smiled a soft grove of gold,  
Two small half-heav'ns were bend in either Brow;  
Nor were those Hemisphears shamed by his eyes  
Which the best stars above dared not despise.   

57  
All Roses blushed when near his lips they came,  
Whose purer crimson, and whose sweeter breath  
They thought (and well they might) their double shame:  
No Lily ever met him in his path,  
But if his hand did touch it, strait in spite  
'Twas pale to see itself outvied in white.   

58.  
Fair was his stock, his sire great Jacob was,  
Not by the wife whose blear and watery eye  
Did its dim self bewail, and was the glass  
In which the world read her deformity;  
But by that Queen of Sweets, whose price seven 〈◊〉  
Doubled in service, was, yet seemed not dear.   

59  
He Rachel's son, and her best beauties heir,  
For her dear sake, and no less for his own,  
Sat precious next his Father's soul; whose Care  
Was bend his own Delights in Him to crown.  
He loved his children all, yet far above  
The rest, his Joseph he did love to love.   

60.  
He hunts about the proudest world to buy  
The choice of purest and of brightest cloth  
Brisk in the Tyrian and Sidonian die,  
With which he cloth's his darling, being loath  
That fewer colours should adorn his coat  
Than all the world in him did beauties note.   

61.  
As when the gallant Peacock doth display  
His starry Train, the winged People all  
In shame and discontent do sneak away  
Letting their plumes (now all our-sparkled) fall:  
So Joseph's Robe by which himself did seem  
So fair, his Brethren cloth's with wrath and shame.   

62.  
'Tis true, said they, our Father, though he were  
The puny Brother, yet he ssiely did  
Encroach upon the Blessing which the Heir  
Was doubtless borne unto: But yet He sped  
Only by Craft: had Jsaac had his eyes  
As Jacob now, he would have been more wise,   

63.  
But though the old Man loves his lucky Cheat  
So well, that he upon his younger Son  
Throws all his Heart: We hope, no want of meat  
Shall force Us willingly to be undone.  
Nor any Pottage that this Boy can make  
From the least He of Us our Birthright take.   

64.  
Thus they repined; (not knowing there was writ  
Upon heavens adamantine leaves a Law  
By which this scorned Youth at length should sit  
In Reuben's seniority, and grow  
Like an Imperial Branch, whose teeming Root  
Set's in a living Fount it's blessed Foot.)   

65.  
Yet, in the sweetness of Simplicity,  
Ingenuous he relates to them his Dream:  
From of my bed light Fancy carried me  
Into the field, where I with you did seem  
To fall a reaping, and our sheaves bind up;  
When lo, says he, to mine all yours did stoop.   

66.  
Proud Brat, cry they, knowst thou what stooping is?  
How dares thy upstart Insolence but dream  
That we thy Elders must bow down and kiss  
Thy boyish foot, and tremble at thy Name?  
Believe it Child, 'tis not thy gewgaw Coat  
(Though too too princely for thy back,) can do't.   

67.  
But he, not knowing what their Anger meant,  
Whose Breast was calm as is the upper Air,  
His second Vision thus doth represent:  
Last night, when all the face of heaven was fair  
And trimmed with every Star, on his soft wings  
A softer Dream me thither gently brings.   

68  
Quite through the storehouse of the Air I passed,  
Where choice of every kind of Wether lies;  
Here Rains are bottled up, there Hail is cast  
In mighty Heaps; here Banks of Snow do rise,  
There furnaces of Lightning burn, and those  
Long-bearded Stars which light Us to our Woes.   

69.  
Hence came I to a dainty World: the Air  
Was sweet and calm, much like my Mothers Ay,  
Whom if I might, I would have sought for there:  
No more of Chanaan now could I descry;  
The Earth was shrunk so small, me thought I read  
By that due prospect, what it was indeed.   

70.  
But then approaching to an Orb whose flames  
Like to a boundless Ocean flowed about,  
Fool as I was, I quaked, until its beams  
Gave me an harmless kiss: I little thought  
Fire could have been so mild; but surely here  
It rageth cause we keep it from its sphere,   

71.  
It flamed, reverend Sire, but with as sweet  
An ardency as in your noble Heart  
That heavenly Zeal doth burn, whose sacred heat  
Makes you heavens living Holocaust; no part  
Of my Dream's tender Wing felt any harm,  
Our journey, not the fire, did keep Us warm.   

72.  
But here my Guide, before I was aware,  
On the Moon's lower Horn clapped her right hand,  
And pulled me up into a place as fair  
Above this World in Worth, as it doth stand  
In situation: liquid Crystal here  
Is the tralucid matter of of each sphere.   

73.  
The Moon was kind, and as we passed by  
Showed Us the Deed whereby the great Creator  
Instated her in that large Monarchy  
She holdeth over all the Ocean's Water;  
To which a schedule was annexed, which all  
Moist Bodies too under her power doth call.   

74.  
Now complemental Mercury was come  
As far as to the margin of his sphere,  
And bid Us eloquent welcome to his Home:  
Scarce could We pass, so great a crowd was there  
Of Points and Lines; and nimble Wit beside  
Upon the backs of thousand shapes did ride.   

75.  
Next, matchless Venus her sweet face did show,  
(Bringing again my Mother to my mind,)  
Which Us into her Region quickly drew:  
This strewed with youth, and smiles, and love we find;  
And those all chaste: 'tis this foul world below  
Adulterates what from thence doth spotless flow.   

76.  
Then into Phebu's Orb all paved with gold,  
The rich reflection of his own fair Eye,  
I was advanced; and fain I would have told  
How many Crowns and sceptres there did lie,  
What Life, what Verdure, what Heroik Might,  
What perly Spirits what sons of active Light:   

77.  
But I was hurried into Mars his sphere,  
Where Envy (o how cursed was its face!)  
And Jealousy, and Fear, and Wrath, and War,  
Could scarcely well agree about their place:  
Yea, Engines there to vomit Fire I saw,  
Whose flame & thunder Earth at length must know.   

78.  
Welcome was Jupiter's Dominion, where  
Illustrious Mildness round about did flow;  
Religion had built her Temple there,  
And Sacred Honours on its Walks did grow;  
No Dignity Priests Heads shall ever crown  
Which in those mysuck Gardens was not sown.   

79.  
At length we found old Saturn in his Bed;  
〈◊〉 much I wondered how an He so dull  
Could 〈◊〉 thus high: His house was built of Lead,  
Of dark and solitary corners full;  
Where Discontent, and Sickness dwellers be,  
Grim Melancholy, and dead Lethargy.   

80.  
Passing from hence into a boundless field,  
Innumerable stars we Marshaled found  
In fair at ray: This earth did never yield  
Such choice of flowery Pride, when she had crowned  
The Plains of Shechem, though the gaudy Spring  
Did all its smiling Beauties thither bring.   

81.  
A knot of Lights constellated into  
A radiant Throne, on which myself was set.  
When lo the Sun and Moon themselves did throw  
Into submiss obeisance at my feet;  
And then eleven great Stars thought it no shame  
To come before me, and to do like them.   

82.  
But sure I thought it shame for me to take  
Homage of them, who was but Dust and Clay;  
Big with excuse I grew, and began to speak,  
But then my Dream took wing and fled away.  
And fly thou after it, bold Dreamer cried  
His Brethren, who in Dreams dost mask thy Pride.   

83.  
Old Jacob, though he pondered every word  
In's own prophetic Heart, and judged the Dream  
Was not by Joseph framed, but by his Lord;  
Thought it expedient something wroth to seem,  
Having no other way that Rage to smother  
He saw smoke from his Sons against their Brother.   

84.  
But Child, said he, where is that Blush of thine  
Which used to paint meek Virtue on thy face?  
How dar'st thou tell a Dream which doth design  
Unto thy puny self such Sovereign place?  
Think'st thou thy Brethren and thy Parents too  
Unto the younger son must homage do?   

85.  
Or dream no more, or else thy dream conceal  
If any fancy rise which may offend:  
On this condition I thy pardon seal,  
And these thy Brethren shall their quarrel end.  
Go you my sons, be careful of my sheep;  
This Boy at home as meek as them I'll keep.   

86.  
And so he did: though with as bad success,  
As his intention was sincere and good;  
Take heed how thou thy brethren's wrath dost press  
Said he, lest it do squeeze out thine own blood.  
I know their furies, and from whence they move:  
O that their ground of Hate should be my Love!   

87.  
Hast thou not marked how if a Flint we lay  
Soft on a downy Bed, and gently smite,  
Forth with its conquered stubborness gives away;  
But if we use it harshly, it will fight  
Again, and spit its rage in fire, nor shall  
The stoutest Hammer cool its Wrath at all.   

88  
Surely thy brethren's bosoms cannot be  
More hard than Hardness, and the Flints stiff heart:  
Or if my Charity deceiveth me,  
Thy Mildness must be tempered with such art  
As may the softness of that Down exceed  
Which on the Cygnet's dainty neck doth breed.   

89.  
When they begin to bluster, give them way;  
'T has often cost the boldest Cedar dear  
To grapple with a storm; whilst Flowers which lay  
Themselves full low in trembling and in fear,  
Waiting the leisure of the Wind, again  
Rise up unbruised, and in peace remain.   

90.  
Thus I of late thy furious Uncle met,  
One who had vowed to tear his Birthright back  
And my poor life with it: I Presents set  
Thick in his way, gently to him I spoke,  
And by submission grew superior so  
That from the jaws of Wrath in peace I go.   

91.  
And now because thy Brethren have been gone  
Abroad these many days, lest they surmise  
I take no pleasure but in thee alone;  
Feasting mine own on thy all-lovely eyes,  
To morrow thou unto their folds shalt go,  
And in their Father's name see how they do.   

92.  
Long e'er the Morn her eyelids had with-drawn  
And opened the East into its hopes of Day,  
Joseph was up and dre'st, and by his own  
Fair eyes being lighted, well on in his way.  
A thousand gentle phrases, as he went,  
He studied how his Brethren to content.   

93.  
But by the various beauties of his Coat  
Discerning him from far, behold said they  
The saucy Dreamer comes; now we have got  
So fair an opportunity to slay  
Our foe, 'tis wisdom to prevent in time  
That tyranny to which his Pride doth climb.   

94.  
O no, cries Reuben, one within whose heart  
More genuine drops of Jacob's blood did thrill,  
He is a Child, and acts but his own part:  
Dreams are but flitting toys, but if we spill  
His harmless blood, the spot upon our head  
Will be no Dream, believe't, but Gild indeed.   

95.  
O rather cast him into yonder pit  
That he from you may only have his grave;  
Let any other wrath that think's it fit  
Give him his Death, and bury in that Cave  
Your less offence: doubtless nostars will bow  
To him whom from the sight of heaven you throw.   

96.  
As hungry Wolves upon the helpless Lamb,  
So they on Joseph fall: in vain had he  
Studied the sweetest Blandishments to frame  
Of gentlest words, and meekest modesty:  
With loud revile all his prayers they drown  
And stripped into the deep Pit throw him down.   

97.  
When lo, a troop of Merchants passing by,  
They money of their richer Brother make;  
The thrifty Ismaelites admired why  
For such rich ware they would so little take:  
No new-dug Pearl so fair did ever look  
As he, when him up from the Pit they took.   

98.  
Yet twenty silver pieces was the price,  
Which soon they paid; and now were sure they bore  
To Memphi's Mart more precious Merchandise  
Than all their swelling Packs of Midian store.  
And thus a Slave to strangers Joseph is,  
As were his Brethren unto Avarice.   

99  
But yet his Coat they kept: with this, said they  
Jacob vexed us, and we'll vex him again.  
A Kid they take, as innocent a prey  
As Joseph was, and with its Blood they slain  
The Robe; which they unto their Father sent  
Blushing for them whose own shame all was spent.   

100  
And well he knew't. O me the good Man cries,  
It is my Ioseph's Coat, all torn and rend,  
And bloody too: Be free my weeping eyes,  
YE have nothing now to do but to lament.  
That only day which joyed and blest your sight,  
My darlings face, lies buried in night.   

101.  
Dear Coat, behold I rend mine own with thee,  
Which is less worthy to be whole than thou.  
Sure some wild Beast thy Master tore, and me  
Together with him, though I felt not how.  
(It did indeed, for it was spite, a Beast  
Of all inhuman things the salvagest.)   

102.  
Sweet Child, I hoped to have prevented thee  
In seeing Rachel thy departed Mother:  
But surely long behind I will not be,  
Thy death brings grief enough my life to smother;  
I'll come as fast as an old Man can do,  
And see you Both: Peace friends, it must be so.   

103.  
But joseph now was into Egypt brought  
And set to sale: One Potiphar, by place  
Captain of Pharaoh's guard, the stripling bought;  
And reading plain in his ingenuous face  
Pure characters of worth, he doubted not  
Some more than common trust in him to put.   

104.  
Nor did the issue ever flag below  
His expectation; for fidelity,  
For care, for prudence, his example now  
The only Rule unto the rest must be:  
No task was set, but every servant bid  
To mind his several Charge as joseph did.   

105.  
But how could they keep pace with him who was  
Both led and hastened on by Heavn's high hand,  
And made through all Successe's Paths to pass;  
Which when his Master began to understand  
With pious wisdom, thus concluded he:  
My servant has some greater Lord than me.   

106.  
Wherefore contented only with the name  
Of Master, him he trust's with every Key  
Of highest care and charge, and bids him frame  
As he thought best all his Oeconomy.  
Thus did this unknown slave the Lord become  
Though not of his own Lord, yet, of his Home.   

107.  
But whilst this honoured Steward doth allure.  
All other eyes to reverential Love;  
His Mistress' grew sick of an impure  
And black disease; which did itself improve  
Unto that strength, that now abroad it fly's  
Like Basilisk's beams, to poison neighbour eyes.   

108.  
At first it slept in that envenomed lake  
Which in Hell's bottom stink's; from whence a fiend  
It in a red hot vial up did take,  
And flying thither, b● soft degrees did blend  
It with Potiphera's blood, whose tainted veins  
Were straight made Channels of Lust's boiling pains.   

109.  
Though Ioseph's Uirtue might aforehand be  
Assurance of denial, yet her flame  
With such impatient fury burnt, that she  
All amorous enchantments tries, to tame  
His rigid heart. (and Lust too oft we see  
In point of wit's too hard for Chastity.)   

110.  
What ever Word is spoke to Ioseph's praise  
Her echo doubles it, and doth supply  
Some more pathetike and transcendent phrase  
To raise his merit to a pitch so high,  
That He obliged in modesty might seem  
To render back that honour done to him.   

111.  
If any Bit were choice, she thought it due  
To Ioseph's palate more than to her own;  
The rarest flower which in her garden grew  
Must be culled out, and wreathed into a Crown,  
Or some acquaint posy which herself invents,  
And every Morning unto him presents.   

112.  
If he be well, she dares not but be so;  
If he be sick, she scorneth to be well,  
And yet about him will be busy too  
To hold his head, or hand, his cup to fill,  
His meat to dress, yea and his bed to warm,  
And watch all night that joseph takes no harm.   

113.  
Whatever she sees or sweet, or rich, or rare,  
She something in his Body findeth still  
To which those precious things she may compare:  
With his own praises she his ears doth fill,  
And often cries, How blessed should I be,  
If Potiphar were such an one as Thee.   

114.  
He kend that crafty Language for a while  
No more than does the Lark the fowler's Pipe:  
But when he began to smell her dangerous Wile,  
Whose own stink did betrayed; He strove to wipe  
Away those praises she so thick did strew,  
And by his own Blush reach her what to do.   

115.  
Oft would he take occasion to proclaim  
How sweet, how brave a man his Master was;  
And never fail to bless Potiphera's Name  
And praise her fortunes, who for husband has  
Virtue's own Spouse: But most he loved to tell  
How for his Chastity he did excel.   

116.  
This Word of all the rest, most deeply stung  
Her unchaste heart: She now resolves no more  
To rack herself within, but plainly bring  
To light her darksome torment, and before  
Ioseph's own face her wounded bosom open  
That so the wound in pity he might stop.   

117.  
Sweet Sir, said she, (when both alone they were,)  
In our Egyptian Hieroglyphics You  
Seem to be little studied; wherefore here  
I'm come to be your Tutoresse, and bestow  
My dearest skill, being grieved much to see  
You in the best of Arts unlearned should be.   

118.  
The language of that Love, and of that praise  
I showered thick upon you day by day,  
You understood not, though ten thousand ways  
I tried to write it plain: And what I pray,  
Meant all that sweet ado, but only this,  
Potiphera in love with Joseph is?   

119.  
Nay start not at the Word, but hear how I  
With solid arguments can make it good:  
'Tis sacrilege to let Divinity  
Pass by unloved: you ' banks of Nilu's flood  
Ne'er saw Serapis half so Godlike, as  
Thou in this garden up and down dost pass.   

120.  
Thou passest up and down, and in thy way  
The choicest flowers instructest with thine eye  
How to look brisk and brave, how to display  
Some pretty beam of amorous Majesty.  
Thou passest up and down, and with thy feet  
Teachest the beds of Spices to grow sweet.   

121.  
When on yon crystal fountain thou dost look  
The Nymph cannot but smile to think that she  
Is by thyself each Evening made the book  
Where thy sweet face thou printest. Woe is me  
Why was I not a fountain too, that thou  
Thy dear impression mightst on me bestow!   

122.  
The 〈◊〉 betimes repaireth to thine eye  
And asks what weather Heaven shall have that day:  
In vain the Clouds combine to damp the sky  
If thou thy beams with freedom dost display:  
If thou but lowr'st, in vain the foolish Air  
Forceth herself to smile and to look fair,   

123.  
What fools are our Egyptians to spend  
Their time and brains upon the stars above,  
To find what kind of seasons they will send?  
'Tis Heresy, say I, but to remove  
Above the Orb of thine illustrious eye.  
The fairest book of best Astronomy.   

124.  
As from Arabia winds this way do blow,  
From thy fair mouth they suatch thy balmy breath  
Into their own; and as they forward fly  
With gallant odours they perfume their path:  
The world admires whence such rich blasts should file,  
But none the sweet Original know but I   

125.  
For strange unto thyself thou need's wilt be,  
And take no notice of all excellence  
Which in thy heart doth hold its Monarchy.  
I tell thee sweet, 'tis but a fond pretence  
Which thou call'st modesty, and might undo thee  
If Providence had not sent me unto thee.   

126.  
Canst thou imagine nature ever meant  
To plant the best of all her store in thee  
There to lie hid and die, and not be spent  
In the free course of natural charity?  
Let those be chaste who can no love invite,  
'Twere sin in thee, who art made for delight.   

127.  
Indeed the other Phoenix having none  
Of his own feathered kind, is fain to spend  
His virgin love upon himself alone,  
And begin his life again by its strange end:  
His amorous flames kill and revive him so  
That to himself he's Son and Father too.   

128.  
But thou, as rich and fair a thing as he,  
Hast other fuel for thy fire: lo here  
I ready dried am with thirst to be  
Its Sacrifice: I will thy bed prepare  
With such abundant sweets as shall contest  
With all the spices of the Phoenix nest.   

129.  
Why stay we then? The good man's now from home  
As he is from my heart; which both are thine.  
No matter for this Day, I'll make Night come,  
(If thou wilt go,) and cloud up our design:  
Close are my curtains, and no tales they tell:  
Come then my dearer self, all shall be well.   

130.  
No haste, cries he; but if thou lov'st me so,  
Hear me a little as I thee have done;  
Haste very seldom with success doth go,  
But doth all fortune but the bad outrun.  
How then can headlong Lust a good end find  
When both itself and its fond God are blind?   

131.  
Were they not so, how couldst thou me invite  
To those strange joys which must lie sneaking in  
Thy guilty curtains, and avoid the light  
As one too fair a witness for a sin  
So foul and black! By this, aforehand thou  
Ashamed art of what thou fain wouldst do.   

132.  
I was a Slave unto my Master brought,  
And unto you, in him; but not to Lust:  
Yet my desert, or his mistake hath wrought  
So great a change, that he puts me in trust  
Withal the care of his large family,  
Whereof he Father, I must Ruler be.   

133.  
Thus did He give me freedom from the bands  
Of servitude, but not of Virtue too:  
O no, this obligation stricter stands,  
And Joseph must more hearty homage do  
To Potiphar, than those who still do lie  
Bound in the bottom of their slavery.   

134.  
Himself He never gave into my hand,  
Therefore not Thee, who art all one with Him:  
Nor could He do it: for so close a Band  
Does cement you together, that no limb  
Of his own body nature's hand did join  
Nearer unto himself, than is all thine.   

135.  
And though He be not here, God's round about  
And in the midst between even Me and Thee;  
His eye needs make no search to find Us out,  
Which Us, before we were at all, did see.  
I would not wrong my Master, but much less  
Offend that God, who is my Lord and his.   

136.  
A Lord so pure that we may safelier gaze  
Upon the burnished sun's meridian beams,  
Than he can fix his eye upon God's face;  
A face whence such excess of Lustre streams,  
That he in mercy casts on us below  
A veil, which, though we cannot, he looks through.   

137.  
He looks through that, and through all Curtains too  
Which we ourselves upon our sins would draw.  
Far be that fondness then, that we should go  
And seek some secret place to break his Law,  
Exposing to his most refined eye  
The foulest of all spots, Adultery.   

138.  
A spot which would make me so black, that thou  
Who now both lov'st me and admirst ' me so,  
For mere deformity wouldst never know  
Me more, but scorned and hated let me go:  
So would I do myself, and never stay  
With Joseph, knew I how to run away,   

139.  
Ask or command me any thing beside:  
If you will send me to the farthest Sea  
To fetch you pearls, the Sun shall not outride  
My restless course, nor any Jewels be  
Treasured so deep in the profoundest Main,  
But I will dig them thence, and come again.   

140.  
Or if you please I will revenge your wrong  
Upon these sweets of my enchanting face,  
Which have abused and tempted you so long:  
These nails of mine shall all those Charms erase  
And cut such ghastly wounds as soon shall cure  
Those which my beauty made your heart endure,   

141.  
I will transform myself into a State  
Which more your Pity, than your love, shall crave;  
Or if this love of mine must reap your hate,  
Somewhere or other I shall find a grave,  
And there with greater comfort rest my head,  
Than if I slept on your delicious bed,   

142.  
As when a mighty torrent hasting on,  
Is by some sturdy bank forced back again,  
The waters roar and foam and swell upon  
Themselves for spite to see their strength was vain;  
So did Potiphera's heart, whose lustful course  
Unshaken Joseph back again did force.   

143.  
A thousand Passions boiling in her breast  
Raise up a tempest of impatient flames.  
Still night, which to all others sealeth rest,  
Waken her cares; Her bed with torments streams  
'Cause Joseph is not there. (O where may we  
With heavenly love a Soul thus wounded see!)   

144.  
She has no relish of the dàintiest meat,  
But only on distracted thoughts she feeds;  
The spiced wine to other palates sweet  
Mocks hers alone, and odious loathing breeds:  
Thick sighs and tears from her own mouth and eyes  
Echo the storm which in her heart did rise.   

145.  
Oft she renewed her suit, but sued in vain:  
At last grown faint and sick, she asks him how  
He would her Murder answer? Such a stain  
Will ill become, said she, thy dainty brow;  
In the unnatural furrows of whose frown  
The seeds of my unhappy death are sown.   

146.  
But when this moved him not, who like a Rock  
Stood firm upon his solid Chastity:  
Her final resolution she awoke,  
And all her strength with it, that she might be  
Provided to correct her love's mishap  
By valiant managing her plotted Rape.   

147.  
Watching her time she takes him all alone,  
And harpy-like, one Talon clapping fast  
Upon his Clothes, lest he away should run,  
Her other Arm about his neck she cast:  
Loose was her Coat, and showed her more full  
Than he desire d to see, or I to tell.   

148.  
Thou art my prisoner now, said she, as I  
Have long been thine, though thou didst scorn thy prize;  
But I'm resolved of thy Captivity  
To make some use: Thou shalt no more despise  
My prayers, for I command thee now to be  
Whither thou wilt or no, happy with Me.   

149.  
Perhaps thy needle's Maiden modesty  
Stayed, by thy Lover to be ravished:  
Then be it so; But if thou still deny  
My loyal Love; I swear by thine own Head  
(Which yet I only worship,) that no blood  
But from, thy Heart shall these my Wrongs make good.   

150.  
I will exclaim, and tell the household how  
With lustful force thou here surprised'st Me:  
This monstrous Crime will cost thy life: for know  
My lie can soon outface thy Verity.  
Hadst thou not better take thy pleasure here  
Than be for nothing thought a Ravisher?   

151.  
Whilst thus Her lust foamed: Joseph makes all haste  
How to escape; and loosening secretly  
His upper garment, which she grasped so fast,  
Leaves that to Her, and out himself doth fly.  
Wise Serpents thus their Ears against the Charm  
Do stop, and cast their skins to scape the harm.   

152.  
Potiphera an hideous outcry 〈◊〉;  
Her Handmaid first, than the whole family  
Scared with the noise, into her Chamber breaks;  
Where on her Bed, hearing a woeful sigh,  
Behold, said she, this garment: Which of you  
Would think the Hebrew slave so bold should grow?   

153.  
He thought, because his Master was from home,  
My faith had been so too: He thought that he  
Might as his Lord's Vicegerent, freely come  
And challenge right unto my chastity.  
'Twas time to cry: which I no sooner did,  
But he, the guilty Hypocrite, was fled.   

154.  
He fled, but left for fearful haste, behind,  
That Pledge of his unfort'nate impudence:  
For, confident he me should willing find,  
He gun to doff his clothes: Come bear me hence  
From this cursed place; but bring the Cloak with me  
That Potiphar his Dailing Badge may see.   

155.  
When he came home she met him with this Lie  
And threw the garment to Him for her proof.  
He took no time the business to try,  
But judged that argument more than enough.  
Joseph's to Prison sent, a place less warm  
To him, but sweeter than his Mistress arm.   

156.  
He lay not long oppressed with his Chain,  
But even the Jailor He his Prisoner takes:  
Such powerful sweetness doth in Virtue reign  
That all Spectators she her subjects makes.  
Heaven would not suffer other Bonds to hold  
Him whom Lust's Chains and Charms could not enfold.   

157.  
The Keeper now keeps nothing but his name.  
The Keys at Joseph's girdle hang, and He  
Is in this closer Stewardship the same  
He was in Potiphar's large family:  
Yet has no Mistress which might make him be  
As ill in Prison, as when He was free.   

158.  
At length the guerdon of his worth drew near,  
And dreams which had occasioned his low state  
Help him to climb up into glories sphere:  
The great designs which uncontrolled Fate  
Was into Egypt ready now to bring  
Are in a mystic vision showed the King.   

159.  
Their curious brains the old Magicians beat  
About the Riddle, but were all too weak  
To pierce that mighty cloud wherein the great  
Secret enshrined lay: The King must seek  
Some wiser Head; and whod'yee think was he  
But this young Hebrew? this the Man must be.   

160.  
He teacheth Pharaoh what the Kine did mean  
Heaven showed him feeding upon Nilu's shore;  
Why seven were wondrous fat, and seven as Lean,  
Which did portend the famine, Which the store,  
What both the kinds of Corn foretold, what cares  
Were requisite against the following years.   

161.  
First, thanks to Heaven cries Pharaoh, then to thee  
In whom its Spirit I so plain descry:  
And who can better my assistant be,  
Then he who holds all wisdom's Monarchy?  
The throne and sceptre shall continue mine,  
But all the rest of Egypt shall be thine.   

162.  
Then his own Ring, his royal Love to seal,  
On Joseph's hand he puts, and him invest's  
With purest Linen: on his neck, which steel  
Had lately galled, a golden chain he casts;  
And his own second Chariot to him gave,  
Who lately into Egypt trudged a slave.   

163.  
Thus what he was to Potiphar before,  
What to the Tailor, now he's to the King;  
The sovereign Steward and the Governor  
(Set but his Prince aside,) of every thing.  
And here at length, to justify his dream,  
His Father and his brethren reverenced him.   

164.  
Thus Chastity's pure King his Champion sees  
Amply repaid, who having got Command  
Of his own flesh and blood, can rule with ease  
A Kingdoms reins in his unspotted Hand.  
Take notice Psyche, and remember this:  
The Case may once be thine, which here was His.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO II. Lust Conquered.  
ARGUMENT.  

Lust, who in ambush lay, the Onset gives  
To careless Psyche, as she gad's abroad:  
Charis the overpowered Maid reliev's;  
Phulax unmask's the Fiend: Her penitent flood  
Psyche pour's out, and is encouraged by  
An heavenly Dream to honour Chastity.   

1.  
NO foolish Tinder ever yet did catch  
In its soft amorous Arms the straggling, spark,  
And with such desperate zeal make haste to hatch  
Its own destruction; as fond Man doth mark  
And treasure up those fair-faced Counsels which  
With fatal Charms his heedless heart bewitch.   

2.  
No wretched Adder ever sealed up  
His wary ear with trustier Cement; than  
With reckless obstinacy He doth stop  
His memories unhappy Portals, when  
Wholesome Advise with sweetness woos it, and  
Long knocking for admission doth stand.   

3.  
Or, if at length a wicket 〈◊〉 he sets,  
His slighted guest in some our-roome he lays:  
But when vain fancy or seduction beats  
Summons upon his gates, He them displays,  
And let's these strangers thrust quite out of door  
The former, who were scarcely in before.   

4.  
For as the Honey of heavens dainty Hives,  
The summer Clouds, snugging in laps of flowers,  
That correspondent Dwelling quickly leaves  
To churlish drops of less deserving showers,  
Or rankling Mil-dew, which such venom shed's  
As soon deflow'reth all those Virgin Beds:   

5.  
So fared it now with Psyche's careless Breast  
On which more dainties dropped from Phylax tongue  
Than on Hyblean hills e'er made its nest.  
Abroad she will, and please herself among  
The fields wide sweets, forgetting that some wind  
Might steal upon, and blast her honeyed mind.   

6.  
The sportful Twins of heaven now began to reign,  
And brought a season fitting for their play;  
Thick did they scatter upon every Plain  
A flowery verdure and dishevell May  
Round about Tellu's face, who now beguiles  
Her Winter's sadness with this month of smiles.   

7.  
Psyche would fain have wandered out alone,  
But that 
* Conscience.  Syneideses her trusty Maid  
Hunted out every step where she had gone;  
And 
| divine grace.  Charis an old friend of hers, afraid  
What might befall the Virgin, followed too,  
Yet in her company forbore to go.   

8.  
As pleasures paths she in the fields did trace,  
It joyed her much the tender lambs to see  
Skipping in harmless sport from place to place;  
And who would be so sad and dull, said she  
To 〈◊〉 at home, when thus abroad we may  
Behold how sweetly Innocence doth play.   

9  
No smiling flower could meet her as she went,  
But gathering it, she with a kiss would pay  
The courteous price of that delicious scent  
It had so freely pow'red in her way:  
And still cries out, how poor a place is home  
Which for such pleasure, can afford no room!   

10.  
Thus loosely tripping on, she came at last  
Through pathless Paths unto a pleasant Grove;  
The gentle Winds through the fair Trees made haste,  
And in her face a gale of Odours drove.  
Needs would she enter, and see whither this  
Were not the Copy of old Paradise.   

11.  
The courteous Boughs laden with generous spice  
Stooped to salute her as she entered in,  
And bid her pluck what Fruit best pleased her eyes;  
But there was none but did amazement win:  
She looks about, yet knows not which to choose,  
And in those sweets her sweeter self doth loose.   

12.  
When on the sudden from a neighbour tree  
Her ears were captived, as before her eyes:  
The mystic Chains of purest Harmony  
Did with a soft enchantment her surprise:  
A winged Choir having new tuned their throats,  
Were running over their exactest notes.   

13.  
Divided thus with Pleasures, she does look  
Where she may sit herself to recollect:  
Close by, she gliding spies a silver Brook  
Whose gorgecus bank with golden flowers was decked.  
There sitting down, once more, adieu, said she,  
Dull home, which no such seat couldst spread for me.   

14.  
Syneideses, her Mistress being set,  
Pitched down behind her, and fell fast asleep.  
Old * Charis kept aloof, resolved to let  
The venturous Virgin some experience reap  
Of her fond confidence, who needs would stray  
Like some vain Child, so far from home, to play.   

15.  
When lo into the Grove a monstrous Boar  
Wilder than was that place, did roaring come,  
And brought more terror thither, than before  
Appeared delight. Never did whiter foam  
Smoke on the Ocean's stormy face, than now  
This hideous Beast about his own did throw.   

16.  
As are the Comet's, fierce with ominous light,  
Such were his eyes composed of fire and blood:  
His dreadful tusks, the engines of his spite,  
Held forth their greedy heads, and ready stood  
To tear their Prey; stern bristles hedged up high  
His back, which did all wrath of thorns defy.   

17.  
Strait startled out of her unfortunate pleasure  
Away flies Psyche on the wings of fear;  
Whose steps the hungry Beast as fast did measure,  
And swallowed up the way, to tear down her.  
Loud were his roars, yet her shrieks did transcend,  
Which heaven and earth and her own throat did rend.   

18.  
Phylax her ever trusty friend was near,  
Flying from tree to tree still as she ran,  
But was by heaven forbidden to appear  
And rescue her who needs would be undone.  
He was forbid to rescue her till she  
Had deeper felt her dangerous vanity.   

19  
Her long flight having now shortened her breath,  
Which 'twixt her trembling lips lay struggling, she  
Cries out, dear Phylax from these jaws of death  
The monster opes so wide, deliver me.  
Where is thy God and mine, which loves me so,  
Where is he now? O what shall Psyche do!   

20.  
Here helpless fear and fainting threw her down  
Unto the ready Beast an easy prey,  
Whose hasty tusk had through her dainty gown  
Unto her softer body tore its way:  
When lo a sudden spear flew through his neck,  
And frighted on the ground returned him back.   

21.  
A lusty gallant, 
* the Spirit of Lust.  Aphrodisius height,  
Who in that lucky instant thither came,  
Directed it; and strait, with equal might  
Drew out his glittering blade; whose dreadful flame  
A forehand struck the dazzled monster dead,  
Whose edge took from him both his prey and head.   

22.  
This done, he gently takes the virgin up;  
Then with a courtly kiss he give's her joy  
That she was safe. She scarce had power to open  
Her eyes, sealed close with desperate dismay;  
But when she saw the slaughtered Boar, and him  
As sweet and fair, as that was foul and grim;   

23.  
I see there are more Phylaxes than one  
Cries she: This life, dear sir, which heretofore  
Was mine, your love hath now made yours alone:  
For my part, I had left it to that Boar,  
And laid me down to measure out my grave;  
Whence you to me this resurrection gave.   

24.  
Yet trust me sir, a life you have not given  
To one who can forget by whom she lives:  
Whether you come from earth, or rather heaven,  
(For seldom earth such strange salvation gives,)  
My soul, big with just thanks, would learn and see  
Whether my debt divine or humane be.   

25.  
Lady, says Aphrodisius, first repose  
Yourself a while; a little way from hence,  
(For well I know this place) a Current goes  
Between two flowery banks: there will I rinse  
My bloody hands; there shall you sit and hear  
A wondrous story, and due to your ear.   

26.  
It was the place where she before had been:  
Thither they go; and thither Phylax flies,  
Perching upon a neighbour tree unseen:  
The gallant washed his hands; and she her eyes,  
But in her own soft tears of joy, to think  
How she had come from death's to that brook's brink.   

27.  
Then on the flowery Couch by her he sits,  
And ushers in his talk with cunning sighs,  
His feigned cheeks with lying tears he wets,  
Three times he strikes his breast, three times his eyes  
He casts up to wards heaven, three times he smiles,  
And sighs again, and her as oft beguiles.   

28.  
At length: I am said he, a man who by  
My birth as deep engaged to fortune stand  
As any he that lives, if Majesty  
Crown not his head, and Sceptre load his hand.  
My stock's the noblest in this land but one,  
Nor bears it any branch but me alone.   

29.  
This made my loving Lord and Father spare  
No pains or cost which might his Son adorn:  
From learned Athens tutors hired were  
Whom first the wings of fame had hither born:  
Athens they left, but brought with them to me  
From thence the truer University.   

30.  
Thus did the curious wit of Greece become  
A member of our private family,  
And I with all the world conversed at home;  
Yea in their dialects too, as fast as I  
Could my young breath transform: nor was it long  
E'er many sat upon my single tongue.   

31.  
A quick survey of all those steps I took  
By which Philosophers have Nature traced;  
Then Mathematics were my busy books;  
A thousand lines I placed and displaced:  
To Heaven upon the Artists Staff I went,  
And studied round about the firmament.   

32.  
Of Optic lines and rays the powers I saw;  
In Music's mystic sweets unwearied Pains  
I spent long nights and days, and strove to know  
What reason married concording strains,  
What divorced discords: never, I confess,  
Did any knot so pose my brains, as this.   

33.  
The treasures of Antiquity, laid up  
In old Historick leaves I opened:  
How Kingdoms sprung, and how they made their stop  
I well observed; with what brave Spirits did,  
How they their honours managed, and what  
The beams of their nobility did blot.   

34.  
My recreations were those which some  
Made their whole work, and it was noble too:  
When weary from my 〈◊〉 I was come,  
To practise martial feats I went, and so  
In both her brave professions I strove  
To follow Pallas, whom I most did love.   

35.  
Oft have I been abroad, and seen the field  
With streaming ensigns goodly terror spread;  
Where how much more I loved to die, than yield,  
Upon my breast good witness you may read,  
Even these seven wounds, whose mouths, once open wide,  
In mine own blood my virtue testified.   

36.  
Oft have I road alone into the Wood  
To find some wild Antagonist, some Bear,  
Some Boar, some Lion, the accustomed food  
Wherewith I diet this my hungry spear:  
You well may gather by the certain Blow  
I gave yon Beast, I am no Learner now.   

37.  
And will you think Pride speaks the word, if here  
I tell you that my Fame swelled great and high?  
In 〈◊〉, in City, Country, every where,  
Reports of Aphrodisiu's Worth did fly:  
No high strained Parallel was made, but thus,  
As good, or brave, as Aphrodisius.   

38.  
To Court I never went, but fewer eyes  
Paid homage to the King's, than unto Mine:  
Devoutly did the Ladies sacrifice  
Their Looks, and Sighs, and Languors, at my shrine;  
Oft has the Queen gone out alone, whilst they  
Forgot to follow Her, if I did stay.   

39  
How many a pretty Embassy have I  
Received from them, which put me to my Wit  
How not to understand! but by and by  
Some Comment would come smiling after it.  
But I had other thoughts to fill my head,  
Books called Me up, and Books put Me to bed.   

40.  
This my Disease being known, a Lady sped  
To me an handful of conceit, clothed in  
So acquaint a Cover, that on it I read  
Full half an hour before I could begin  
To open the book: and what did that contain,  
But a discourse to prove all Learning vain.   

41.  
Bold Title, than said I, if thou canst make  
Thy Promise good, by learning thou must do it.  
With that, I threw't aside: but could not slake  
My curious fond desire to look into it.  
I looked and read, and saw how finely wit  
Had whipped itself: and then grew friends with it.   

42.  
Then summoned by Civility I went  
To court the Giver, and my thanks repay.  
Look not, said I, for polished compliment,  
I came not hither Madam to gainsay,  
But thank you for your book: if learning be  
So vain a thing, Wit would prove foolery.   

43.  
Between a blush and smile, she welcome gave  
To her new Convert. But, sweet sir, said she,  
I sent another book, in which you have  
More of my mind than in those leaves can be;  
A faire-writ book, if you it please to prove,  
In rubric lines, and characters of love.   

44.  
I gave not that: O no, it was a Debt  
Which I did to all sweetness pay in you.  
How could I choose? for had I more than it,  
They would be more than due: but having now  
But only one poor heart, your praise must be  
Not to disdain my helpless poverty.   

45.  
I would not for a thousand Worlds receive  
It back again: How delicate a Nest  
In your all-lovely bosom shall it have,  
If by that favour you will make it blest!  
If thence you cast it, take't who will, for Me,  
Ine'r shall love what hated is by thee.   

46.  
Yet give Me leave to ask what Lady 'tis  
Thou will't exalt to sit Queen in thy Heart:  
Whether her face more graceful be than this  
Which blusheth here in pleading its own part:  
Whether her Stock or her Estate afford  
More arguments than mine, to woo my Lord.   

47.  
If not: then by these loyal Tears I shed  
Before thy feet, this my bold Truth forgive;  
Thy love is due to me. Heaven never did  
Make such a Man, for nothing but to Live.  
Thou ow'st an Offspring to the World which may  
With Hero's furnish it another day.   

48.  
As when the Prisoner at the Bar has done  
His 〈◊〉 story; he does fix his eye  
Upon the Judge, and from his mouth alone  
In hopes and fears expects his Destiny:  
So looked the Lady, with prepared eyes  
To see her Joys, or weep her Obsequies.   

49.  
Full loath was I to speak; but loather by  
Inhuman lingering Silence to torment  
Her most suspended soul, and make her die  
Without her Sentence. Many a sigh I sent  
Before, to tell what Words were coming out;  
At last, this labouring Answer forth I brought.   

50.  
How wretched is his Bliss, upon whose Heart  
Whilst divers Ladies of choice Worth attend  
With Loyal passion; He must either part,  
And so destroy, his own; or empty send  
Them all away but One, and thus be fain  
By many a loss, to make one single Gain!   

51.  
Had I as many bosoms as I owe  
To such sweet Creditors as Thou, with speed  
I would discharge my scores; but first, I vow  
To thee, dear Lady, in whose Worth I read  
Such sweet Attraction, that were I to choose  
My Heaven, for Thee I would all other loose.   

52.  
But now my choice is made, and long ago  
Unto another I affianced was:  
But who's that Lady, is a secret so  
Divine, that from these Lips it ne'er did pass:  
My reverend Mother oft with tears hath sought,  
But never could prevail to wring it out.   

53.  
Yet I thy noble Bosom honour so,  
That I dare trust it there: only be sure  
To keep this Jewel close, as thou wouldst do  
My Heart, a thing less precious and less pure.  
Yet give me leave to cast this Charm about,  
For fear thou lettest it and my Life slip out.   

54.  
So may thy Heartstrings hold thy Heart, as Thou  
This Mystery of mine: so may thy Love  
Be true to Thee, and to thy Wishes bow,  
As to my secret Thou shalt trusty prove:  
So may thine Angel hug thy soul, and keep  
It close, as in thy Breast this Thing shall sleep:   

55.  
A Thing which mine own Guardian Angel did  
Acquaint and bless Me with. When through mine Eyes  
Love first began his amorous beams to shed  
And with his soft Desires my Heart surprise;  
This winged Friend of mine looked through a frown,  
And told me that my Heart was not mine own.   

56.  
It is, said he, thy privilege (and see  
Thou thank Heaven for it,) not to run and spend  
Thy Youth upon this wanton Mystery:  
Let Others study how to Walk, to Bend,  
To Vault, to Dance, to Kiss, to Woo; For thee  
More sweet and generous Arts reserved be.   

57  
Go court thy Books, and gain such Treasure there  
As may enhance thy worth, and make thee be  
A fitting Match for Her whom heavens prepare  
To be thy Spouse: whose face when thou shalt see,  
The reading on that fair-writ Book of Love,  
For all thy studies ample Pay will prove.   

58.  
Yet to yon southern Grove thou every Day  
Must Pilgrim go, where thou thy Saint shalt meet,  
And of a Monsters make her thine own Prey;  
That with no other Word she thee may greet  
But plain Confession that thine is her Life:  
Thus Heaven contriv's that thou shalt win thy Wife.   

59  
These are my Fortunes, Madam, yet unknown  
Even by the sweeter Half unto myself:  
And sure your hand would help to thrust me down  
Into the bottom of all torments gulf,  
Should Wantonness invite Me to despise  
A Blessing higher than my Pride could rise.   

60.  
Then happy She, the Lady cry's, who e'er  
She be, that must hug Happiness in you.  
And yet permit mine Eye one other Tear:  
'Tis not of Envy; No: Dear Sir, Adieu.  
It pitied me to see this gentle fashion  
Of her sincere, but unsuccesful Passion,   

61.  
We parting thus; I hasted to this Grove,  
Amongst whose spicy trees I knew would grow  
My sweeter Hopes. But Heaven it seems, would prove  
The valour of my Patience, and throw  
Procrastinations in my way, that I  
Might earn its favour by my Constancy.   

62.  
How often came I, and with bended knee  
On every flowery Cushion of the Grove  
Implored the speed of my Felicity!  
How oft in this sweet Temple has great Love  
Received mine Heart an Offering all on Fire  
With flames of soft but vehement desire!   

63.  
At length my Prayers were heard, and this dear day  
Did in that blessed Moment send me hither,  
Which showed me that my long expected Joy  
Was now full grown and ripe enough to gather.  
Had I not plucked it straight, the Monster had  
Of all its Sweetness his foul Booty made.   

64.  
First then to Heaven my full-tide thanks I pay:  
And next, to Thee my noble Guardian, who  
Before my hopes no forged Bait didst lay:  
Each smallest Circumstance agreeth so,  
That this the Lady is, and none but She  
Designed by Heaven to crown my joys, and Me.   

65.  
All Blessings on thy head my Psyche: that  
I know for certain needs must be thy Name;  
That Angel told me it, whose counsel put  
Me on this blessed adventure, when I came  
To save thy life both for thyself and me,  
And make of thine my joint Felicity.   

66.  
Here than my Heart I give thee, and I seal  
The Deed with this true Kiss: May Curses rain  
Thick on my head, if ever I repeal  
What I have done, or challenge back again  
This gift of mine, whose fault is only this,  
Of thy Desert it to unworthy is.   

67.  
The Seaman by some furious Tempest thrown  
Into the seeming Depth of roaring Death,  
If he by sudden Fortune back be blown  
Into the gentle Harbour; wondereth  
At his strange safety, and scarce trusts his eyes;  
But doubts a long time whither he lives or dies:   

68  
So Psyche snatched from Dangers desperate jaws  
Into the Arms of this illustrious Lover,  
The truth of her condition hardly knows,  
But in suspensive thoughts a while doth hover.  
Deceive me not, saith she, a frighted Maid,  
To poor, great Sir, by you to be betrayed.   

69.  
If still I live, and all this be no Dream,  
(For sure your story's such an heavn'ly thing,  
That simple I, alas, unworthy seem  
To be concerned in it.) Be pleased to bring  
Some further proof: Where Miracles are done,  
Faith must have open Helps to bring her on.   

70.  
Then be the first proof, Aphrodisius cries,  
This Diamond Ring, in which thyself mayst see  
The radiant Copy of thine own fair eyes:  
The next this Jewel; what thou art to Me  
Let that attest: yet pardon me, that I  
Gave it that precious Name, now thou art by.   

71.  
The third that delicate Embrace shall be  
For which all Loves are kindled: that which will  
The sweetest of Assurance give to thee,  
And my great Guardians Prophesy fulfil.  
Come, I can give thee leave to blush; a Maid  
Of what she loves most, must be most afraid.   

72.  
Were not our Case Divine, awhile I'd stay,  
And by our Humane Ceremonies marry:  
But we did Wed above; and what can they  
Add to Heavn's Rites? O no: 'tis sin to tarry:  
My Angel would have told me, (never fear,)  
Had it been otherwise; Come then my Dear.   

73.  
Forgetful Psyche now enchanted quite  
By these his glorious Wiles, set open her Breast  
Unto the Fancies of unclean Delight;  
Forthwith a Knot of unseen Serpents pressed  
Into her heart, and set it so on fire,  
That strait it flamed out with foul Desire.   

74.  
But Phylax instantly descried the flame,  
And waking up Syneideses, He cries,  
Run run, and help to save your dying Dame:  
Look how her funeral flames already rise.  
Up gets the Maid, and instantly thrusts in  
Between the Lovers and their ready sin.   

75.  
Psyche starts back, whilst shame so heavy sat  
Upon her Eyes, that down it pressed them.  
〈◊〉 Wretch, cries Aphrodifius, what  
Has made thy Life so vile, that thou dost come  
To forfeit it to me? I prithee go,  
Die somewhere else; I'd be no Woman's Foe.   

76.  
O then, says she, Forbear to slain my pure  
And spotless Mistress. Fie, cries Psyche, fie,  
I know her not: My Lord, will you endure  
I should such saucy Servants own, as she?  
Be it another proof of your strong Love,  
From Me this troublesome Creature to remove.   

77.  
He, having sleeping in a Box of Jet  
A blacker Liquor drawn from Lethe lake,  
Upon Syneideses strait emptied it.  
She rubbed her eyes: but found herself too weak  
To grapple with that stupor which did creep  
Upon her Brow, and down she fell asleep.   

78.  
As when the Child first venturing on his feet,  
Carelessly stumbles to some Precipice.  
His tender Nurse, more grieved, than he, to see't,  
Makes on amain, with most intentive Eyes  
Not on her way, but Him, who now she knows  
Is stepping into Death's wide open Jaws:   

79.  
So watchful Charis, who did distance keep,  
Till her Assistance might most useful be,  
Now put on speed, and rousing from her sleep  
Syneideses,, Be not dismayed, said she,  
Come, you and I will try what We can do  
To stop Her who so fain to Hell would go.   

80.  
With that, as Phoebus steals his subtle Ray  
Through Virgin Crystal; so through Psyche's breast  
She thrusts her hand, and strives to take away  
That poisonous Brood which there had made its Nest,  
Yet she flings back, and casts disloyal scorn  
On Her who grieved to find her so forlorn.   

81.  
But Aphrodisius amazed now  
To see a Beauty which strait damped his eyes,  
A Beauty which on Psyche's face did throw  
Unlovely blackness, and monopolise  
All Heaven within itself: recoiled back  
Some Counsel in his troubled Brain to take.   

82.  
Mean while Syneideses aloud does cry  
In Psyche's ear: Mistress, believe it now  
I am a wake, and see your Misery:  
But o how foul a sleep possesses you!  
What monstrous Apparitions are these  
Which your enchanted dreaming soul do please!   

83.  
Home, home, I pray: This Grove grows thick with Charms,  
And will be witch you from yourself, until  
All Help proves tardy for your ripened Harms  
Home soon will cure you, and your Bosom fill  
With better Flames than these, which only be  
Kindled to make an end of You and Me.   

84.  
Why stay We here! See see, your Lover's go;  
Perhaps to fetch more Poison for your Heart,  
And double on you your Destruction.  
This unexpected News made Psyche start:  
She turned her head, and saw 'twas so indeed,  
Charis had forced Him back, and He was fled.   

85.  
Yet after Him a heavy sigh she sent,  
And more would have dispatched: But tugged by  
Syneideses, at last she homeward went  
Her feet went homeward, but her Heart did fly  
Much faster back, which Charis, as she came  
Behind, did meet with, and brought safely home.   

86.  
But Aphrodisius could not make such haft  
As to outrun the Angels nimbler hand;  
Halfway the cursed Grove he had not past,  
But Phylax lighted down, and bid Him stand.  
Stand Fiend, says He; Thy punishment shall be  
Upon this sceen of thine own Treachery.   

87.  
Fair hideous sir, how has your wretched spite  
Clouded your memory? Do you not know  
How mine and my illustrious brethren's Might  
You and your fellow fiends to Hell did throw?  
Did that fall bruise your Heart so little, that  
It, and our Victory you have forgot?   

88  
Was't not enough, that in your burning Home  
Hot Blasphemies you day by day did spit  
At Heaven and God: but you to Earth must come  
And all your trains and sly delusions set  
To ravish his own Spouse, for whose dear sake  
I here his Leaguer lie the Match to make?   

89.  
Poor harmless Psyche, how did She offend!  
Did She encroach upon your Realms below?  
Did She e'er envy Hell to any Fiend,  
Or strive to snatch Damnation from You?  
Sure you have injured Her, yea Phylax too;  
For She's my Charge, and you shall find it so.   

90.  
With that, He from his holy Bosom drew  
A golden Banner, in whose silken Lap  
His Lords almighty Name wide open flew,  
Of hell-confounding Majesty made up:  
The Fiend no sooner jesus there did read,  
But Shame pulled down his Eyes, and Fear his Head.   

91.  
For as the Lightning darts on Mortal Sight  
Dazzling confusion: So the flashing Rays  
Of this bright Name the Fury did affright:  
When Phylax on his throat his left hand lays,  
And draws him to the Tree whose shade did cover  
The green stage where just now he played the Lover.   

92.  
So have I seen a leering Cur brought back  
Unto the field where He did hunt the Lambs,  
With guilty ears thrown flat upon his neck,  
With woeful Tail sneaking between his hams;  
With grinning Chaps, whose whining Dialect  
Speaks both what He hath done, and doth expect.   

93.  
In vain He struggls: For the nearest Bough  
Phylax with potent Art twines round about  
Its own tough self, and teaches how to grow  
Into a Band more obstinate and stout  
〈◊〉 was his Prisoner; whom forthwith He ties  
Fast to the Tree; and home to Psyche Flies   

94.  
Poor Psyche; who no sooner was come home  
But Charis hasts her to her Closet, where  
The holy Furniture which trimmed the Room  
Wide open Prayer-books, and Bibles were.  
But she so strange, an Eye now casteth on them  
As if her soul had never dwelled upon them.   

95.  
Her tainted soul grown squeamish now, no more  
Such serious Acquaintance would embrace:  
But loving Charis found a private door  
Into her Heart, and from th' usurped place  
Cast out that knot of Serpents on the ground  
Which round about her soul themselves had wound.   

96.  
And see, says she, the token that your Love  
Hath hung about your Heart, and judge, I pray,  
What kind of Favours His were like to prove  
Which by enchanting Poison open their way.  
If Heaven with fouler things than these doth fill  
Your bosom, than love Aphrodisius still.   

97.  
The hissing Serpents rolled about the floor  
Which, and their shamed selves, they gnawed for spite,  
Amazed Psyche starts back to the door,  
Afraid of what but now was her Delight:  
Till Charis with her valiant hand did throw  
Them, whence they came, home to their Hell below.   

98.  
And now the Virgin falling on her face  
With lamentable Cry: Forbear, said she,  
My shameful presence maketh any place  
Unworthy for such noble Company;  
For bear dear Charis, let me blush alone,  
Left fouler here, than those Snakes which are gone.   

99  
And you, my reverend Books, your leavs shut up,  
Where my Confusion frowns in every line.  
When holy Eyes draw near, then freely open,  
But o, you are too pure and chaste for mine:  
Mine, which let out my soul, and in its place  
Received all Hell, which close I did embrace.   

100  
They nothing else can do but blurr you now  
with those perpetual streams of bounden Tears  
Which for my wilful Misery I owe.  
O Eyes, if ever your salt spring forbears,  
May you fail too: such is my state, that I  
Unless you drown me, cannot choose but die.   

101.  
Shine not on Me fair Sun, although thy Ray  
With safety can the foulest Dunghills Kiste:  
I am a filthier thing than those, and may  
Taint thy sweet Lustre by my ugliness.  
Black Night will tell no tales; O may she roll  
Up in her veil my correspondent soul!   

102.  
What have vile I to do with noble Day  
Which shows Us Heavens fair face? that face which I  
Wantonly scorned, and cast my love away  
Upon impostured Lusts foul Mystery,  
O Me! was ever Heart so mad as mine,  
Which would be devilish rather than divine.   

103.  
Surely I will revenge myself on Her:  
I will a Tempest raise of Sighs and Groans,  
To scourge that Gale which blew so soft and fair  
To steal a shipwreck on Me: With rude stones  
$$Work$$ make this harder Breast without appear  
As black as 'twas within when Hell dwelled there   

104.  
I with my Howl will these Ears torment  
Which were intentive to the Cheaters Charms:  
These Lips which loved his Kisses, shall be spent  
In courting nasty Dust: these lustful Arms  
Which hugged His Body, shall mine own chastise,  
Which now I hate, more than I loved His.   

105.  
O all ye Griefs which ever fixed your sting  
Upon a guilty treacherous Bosom, hear  
Unhappy Psyche's earnest Prayers, and bring  
Your stoutest Powers: my Heart has room to spare  
For your full Train; (Adieu all Loves,) I now  
Must only study to woo Hate, and You.   

106.  
Why was I born! (may Darkness choke that Day  
Which lighted Me into the World.) Or why  
When, in the Boars, my Death its mouth did lay  
Upon my throat, had I not leave to die!  
Why did I scape that Monster, to be thrown  
To fouler ones, Hell's Treason, and mine own.   

107.  
Why dwelled such flaming Beauties in mine Eye.  
As might allure, and show to Lust its way!  
Why smiled my face with such sweet Majesty  
As bade false Love, be bold Me to betray.  
Why rather was I not so vile, that in  
Safe scorn I might have scaped the Gallant's sin.   

108.  
The universal World's Contempt could not  
Have wronged or wounded Me so deep, nor thrown  
Upon my Beauties such a fatal Blot,  
As they upon themselves and Me have drawn.  
I 〈◊〉 not now been Heir to all heavens scorn,  
If in Earth's Eye, I Had but been forlorn.   

109.  
O righteous Profit, of unrighteous Pleasure,  
Whose Totall summ's made up of desperate Loss,  
How justly, when We trade away our Treasure,  
Requit'st thou Us with rusty fretful Dross!  
For all the Gains that Wantonnesfe brings in,  
Prove but a Bank of Vengeance on the sin.   

110.  
Still still I burn, my Fire but changed is,  
And though my Lust be cooled my Gild is hot,  
And belks, and boils: for wroth Syneideses  
Blows up its more incensed Coals. O what  
Can help my enigmatick sorrows, who  
Thus on myself my execution do?   

111.  
As thus she lay lamenting on the floor,  
Which with her Tears was slubbered: Charis who  
Had all this while but stepped behind the door,  
Comes cheerly in, and cries, Break off thy Woe,  
Dear Psyche, 'tis enough, thy hearty cry  
Has pterced already, and appeased the sky.   

112.  
The Copies of thy Tears which there lie shed  
Upon the ground, reflected high, and are  
Already in heavens Casket botteled.  
Thy griefs now smile above, and have made clear  
God's lowering face: look up and see how Day  
Shines friendly on thee, and does bid thee Joy.   

113.  
With that, she breathed into her Breast the Powers  
Of unconceived Sweets; the thirsty ground  
Ne'er looked so cheerfully when Summer showers  
The deep Pains of its gasping Drought had drowned;  
As overjoyed Psyche, now she feels  
Warm in her bosom Grace's gentle Gales.   

114.  
Gales, on whose dainty Wings heavens Influence rides;  
An Influence of such speedy Operation,  
That though all Opposition's highest Tides  
Roar in its way, through their proud Conjuration  
With instant Might it flies, and every where  
Finds Victory attending its Carrieer.   

115.  
To Heaven, to Charis, to Syneideses  
Her thanks she mustereth; but all arrayed  
In scarlet from her cheeks: For still she is  
Ashamed to have been lately so betrayed;  
When Phylax flutters in, and, Come, said He  
You to the Grove must back again with Me.   

116.  
As when the place of Robbery you name  
The Thief in White or Red betrays his fear:  
So conscious Psyche's Heart shot through with shame  
At that unlooked for Word, makes it appear  
In her apalled looks. Alas, said she  
And comest Thou to renew my Misery!   

117.  
Bid Me go find some desperate Rock from whence  
I may plunge down into the deepest Main:  
Bid me post headlong to th' Infernal Prince  
And covenant with him for eternal Pain:  
Nay bid me do't; Or bid me not do this,  
Which is, to go where my far worse Hell is.   

118.  
I like thine Anger well, says Phylax; but  
The Grove is not the same 'twas yesterday:  
Another Visage I on it have put,  
Both chaste and safe, and so thyself wilt say.  
No Boar, no Lover's there: come let Us go,  
Both Charis and thy Maid will with Us too.   

119.  
This high Assurance cheered her timorous Heart  
Which stood in reverential awe of Him:  
Besides, her faithful Consorts bore their Part  
In this encouragement. Yet did there swim  
About her breast some tender trembling Doubts  
Which spread like Mist upon her clearer Thoughts.   

120.  
Along they went, but coming near the Grove  
Psyche began to quake, and closer cling  
To Phylax, who reached out his shield of love,  
The downy shelter of his heavenly Wing,  
Under whose cheerly shadow her He led  
Into the gloomy shades the Wood had spread.   

121.  
For now those flattering Beauties which of late  
Had made that Place a Temple to Delight,  
Were all unmasked; and Melancholy sat  
Shrouding her 〈◊〉 self in midday night.  
The heavy nodding Trees all languished,  
And every sleepy Bough hung down its Head.   

122.  
There Aphrodisius his best Teeth had tried  
(And four of them lay broken on the ground,)  
With spiteful restless gnawing to divide  
The With by which He to his shame was bound  
More than unto the Tree: which He so shook,  
That all its frighted Leaves their Boughs forsaken.   

123.  
But seeing that new Company, He bit  
His Lips and Tongue, and spit them in their face:  
See, Psyche, Phylax cries, the Gallant's Wit,  
Who hopes to scape confessing his Disgrace:  
But by and by, I'll make him find a tongue  
To speak out his imposture and thy wrong.   

124.  
With that he snatched from Him all He had stolen  
From Earth from Water or from Air before,  
The beauteous Veil'no sooner off was fallen  
But Aphrodisius appears no more:  
It proves an hideous Fiend, and Psyche cries,  
Running behind the Tree, God bless mine Eyes.   

125.  
Forthwith a poisonous stink seized on the Air;  
But Phylax quickly blew it down to Hell:  
And, Come, says He, come Psyche, there's no fear,  
Behold the Monster, and observe him well:  
There hung his cursed Periwig, but now  
Two coalblack Horns is all his Head can show.   

126.  
The rest is Bald, or with soars overgrown,  
With which his Forehead too rough-casted is;  
Though over it He polished Flesh had drawn,  
Too fair a Plaster for such ugliness.  
See how the Boils run down into his eye  
To find him fitting Tears when He would cry.   

127.  
Like to some Ovens black Arch, so hang his Brows  
Over the furnace of his Eyes, wherein  
Delicious Flames did lately take up house,  
But now the Fire's as dark as his own sin,  
And being fed with sulphur, doth confess  
What is its work, and where it kindled was.   

128.  
A double Alabaster Conduit hung  
Down from his Forehead, where is nothing now  
But those two rotten Pipes, not to be wrung  
Lest with the Moisture down the Nose do flow:  
That baneful Moisture, which 'tis hard to say  
Whether it be more Poison than its Way.   

129.  
Two Rows of Roses on those Lips did grow,  
To sweeten every word that passed by:  
But now scorched black as Hel's own mouth, they show  
What kind of Breath is wont through them to fly;  
A Breath like that which from the Chimneys top  
Speaks it own stink by what it vomits up.   

130.  
His Cheeks which lifted up but yesterday  
Two Hills of Spices, now are sunk so low  
That like two hollow untilled valleys, they  
With nothing else but Desolation grow.  
Now grizly Hair has spoiled. his polished skin,  
Showing what He to Satyrs is of kin.   

131.  
His lovely Hands are now two monstrous Paws  
Whose Nails much longer than their Fingers be.  
Sure his Embrace is dainty, when he throws  
Those Arms about his Love. But prithee see  
What now behind the Gallants back doth trail,  
His courtly Sword's turned to a dangling Tail.   

132.  
Behold his goodly Feet, where one great Cleft  
Davides two Toes, pointed with iron Claws.  
The rest of his fine Body must be left,  
Sealed up close by Modesty's chaste Laws:  
Yet mayst thou safely look into his Breast,  
And see what Treasures there have made their Nest.   

133.  
Look where ten thousand Charms and kisses lie,  
And Compliments of every garb and kind,  
With which He doth on herdlesse Virgins fly,  
And Correspondent Entertainment find:  
Look where upon the Top those Courtships be  
By which He wooed and enchanted Thee.   

134.  
In that sly corner (and observe it well)  
Lie various Shapes which always changing be,  
Shapes trim and smooth, and fair without, but full  
Of inward Poison, which industrious He  
Subtlie improved and daily did devise  
Handsome Impostures and wellfavoured lies.   

135.  
See'st thou not there the model of the Beast,  
That hideous Witchery which chased Thee;  
With all the amorous Story fairly dressed  
To Court and cheat thy credulous Chastity!  
Never did Cozenage with more lovely Art  
Or Face more honest, act its devilish Part.   

136.  
But there is something stranger yet behind:  
See'st thou that Scroll? It is a full Commission  
By which he made this Voyage, ready signed,  
And strengthened by the broad Seal of Perdition.  
Come, I'll untwine the knot of Snakes which tie  
It up, and lay it open to thine Eye.   

137.  
Lo here a scheem of such confounding Letters,  
And scrambling Lines, as never Conjurer writ:  
His Forks, Hooks, Prongs, Racks, Gibbets, Gridirons, Fetters,  
And other Tools of his infernal spite  
Are Belzebub's mad Alphabet; But hear  
How well I ken his mystic Character:   

138.  
Satan the great, by mine own Power alone  
God of Hell Earth and Aire: Immortal Foe  
To Men, to Angels, to Heaven, and Heavn's Son;  
Monarch of Pride, Rage, Blasphemy, and Woe:  
Out of our royal grace, to our right vicious  
And trusty friend and Cousin Aphrodisius:   

139.  
By these our Letters Patents We do give  
Thee full Authority the Souleto seize  
Of hated Psyche, that she may receive  
What share of Pangs our royal Self shall please  
Given at our flaming Court of Desperation  
This sixth Age of our Sovereign Damnation.   

140.  
This being read: He folds it up again,  
And thrusting it into the Fury's breast;  
Go home, says He, and ask thy Sovereign  
A larger Patent: See thou art released.  
But here I hang the With; if ever thou  
Returnest this Way, thou mayst this token know,   

141.  
The loosened Fiend fetching a deep drawn Sigh,  
And tearing his own breast with helpless wrath,  
Flung down his Patent, and away did fly.  
The Grove smoked as He went: in all his Path  
No Tree did meet him, (though the place were full)  
But down He tore it, and made haste to Hell.   

142.  
This Spectacle so wrought on Psyche's Heart,  
That filled brim full of holy shame and joy,  
Her equal thanks and blushes she doth part  
Between he careful friends. Never may Day  
Shine on this face, if I forget, says she,  
Your Loves, and mine own reskewed Chastity.   

143.  
Farewell fond Passions. Heaven above, I'm sure,  
Is full as fair within, as 'tis without:  
No Aphrodisius there; but all as pure  
As is the spotless Crystal, or your thought  
Dear Phylax, which from thence its pattern takes,  
And a new Heaven in your sweet Bosom makes.   

144.  
There will I fix my Heart: there dwells my Love,  
My Life, my Lord, much purer than his Home:  
Whose Paradise shall be the only Grove  
Henceforth, to which my soul shall strive to come.  
Forbid it Jesus, any thing below  
Be master of this Soul, whose Lord art thou.   

145.  
Thus sweetly breathing out her holy Passion,  
To ease her high-swolln, heart she homeward goes  
With her dear Consorts: yet at every station  
Renews her thanks, and her pathetike Vows.  
At length got home, She to her Closet hasts  
Where all her Soul at her Love's feet she casts.   

146.  
What prayers were there, what thanks, what sighs, what tears,  
What Languishments, what amorous ecstasies,  
What confidence, what shame, what hopes, what fears,  
What pains, what joys, what thoughts, what words! she dies  
And yet she lives, and yet she dies again,  
And would for ever live so to be slain.   

147.  
But fainting Nature (for 'twas midnight now,  
And far she had travelled and wrought hard that day,)  
Permitted sleep to grow upon her brow;  
And, though unwilling, down at last she lay.  
Sweet was that rest; but yet much sweeter was  
The Dream which now before her Soul did pass.   

148.  
Imagination swiftly carried Her  
Into a Garden where more Beauties smiled  
Than did in Aphrodisiu's Grove appear,  
And gentler Gales the air with odours filled.  
Lilies alone on every bed did grow  
Which scorned comparison with Northern Snow.   

149.  
The goodly Walks with Alabaster were  
Paved all alone, whose smooth and spotless face  
Laid fairly open unto the silver sphere  
Which rolled above, a comely looking glass.  
Whither upward she or downward turned her Eye,  
Still she 〈◊〉 the same Heaven's Majesty.   

150.  
No Fountain bubled there, but fed with springs  
Of purest Milk; upon whose dainty shore  
Unsported Pigeons sat and washed their wings,  
Though full as white and pure as it, before.  
But thus one Candour poured upon another,  
Does kindly kissed and sport it with his brother.   

151.  
High in the midst a princely Castle stands  
Invincible for strength, and for delight,  
Built all of Virgin-christall, and by Hands  
As pure as the Materials were bright.  
A clearer Court was ne'er by Poet's brain  
Built for Queen Thet is in her watery Main.   

152.  
Ten thousand Blushes stood before the Gate,  
With Magnanimities all hand in hand:  
As many Purities behind them sat;  
And after those as many Beauties, and  
Young smiling Graces: whose sweet task it was  
To be the Guard of that delicious Place.   

153.  
As Psyche wondered at the stately sight,  
She turns, and spies her Phylax standing by.  
What Place is this, says she, so fair, so bright?  
He smiling cries, My Dear, for Chastity  
It was erected: Look and thou shalt see  
What kind of Princes here the Dwellers be.   

154.  
Lo there comes One: Observe his royal Gate;  
Majestic, yet not proud; about his brows  
A glittering Coronet wreaths his princely state,  
As in his Hand a Palm his triumph shows.  
Large is his Robe, and after him below  
A Train imperial on the ground doth flow.   

155.  
This Pavement is less white, less sweet are those  
Perfumed Lilies, than that robe of His  
Th' Eternal Lamb from his own fleece did choose  
The richest Wool where with to clothe and dress  
His spotless friends, and fellow-lambs; for the  
Go all invested with this bright Array.   

156.  
Those graceful Eyes in which Love's throne is set,  
Are they which did Potiphera defy  
(Thou knowst the story since I told thee it.)  
This is that Joseph, though advanced high  
In Pharaohs Realm, yet now more glorious grown,  
And can a fairer Kingdom call his own.   

157.  
The next's a Female, in the same Array:  
For Sexes here no outward difference show,  
But all like Angels live, since noble they  
Strove to forget their He and She below,  
And (though then earthly Pilgrims,) overtake  
That Purity which Us doth equal make,   

158.  
Susanna is her Name: That radiant Face  
Which none but chaste and holy beams did shed,  
Two lustful Elders made their daily Glass,  
And with the Antidote invenomed  
Their shameless Hearts. So bold is Lust that she  
Dares hope to find a Blot in Purity.   

159.  
Cancer than scorched the World, when tender she  
Into her Garden went, there in a spring  
Almost as clear as her own Chastity  
To cool herself: But they strait issuing  
Out of their ambush, in their Clothes express,  
More shame than did Susanna's Nakedness.   

160.  
We too are hot, cry they; but none but thou  
Can quench the fury of our mighty Flames:  
Thou art the Fountain where all Sweets do flow,  
And We must bathe and cool Us in thy streams:  
Yield, as thou lov'st thy Life; else We will swear  
That in Adultery We caught thee here.   

161.  
Then welcome Death said she, thy face will be  
Fairer than is the Countenance of this sin:  
Here she cried out aloud; and instantly  
Her startled Handmaids all rushed shrieking in,  
Whom both the full-mouthed Elders hastened  
To catch th' Adulterer, who, said they, was stead.   

162.  
Then haling her unto the Bar, their own  
Gild upon her they throw, and she must die:  
But strait a Miracle crowds in to crown  
The truth of her unconquered Chastity;  
And turn the Sentence on the Elders, who  
Whilst she to Triumph, must to Stoning go.   

163.  
There comes the second Joseph, but as far  
Before in honour as in time behind:  
Little thought Men what kind of Carpenter  
Was this, whose noble Art a way could find  
To frame a life (and raise the building high,)  
Both of Heroik Worth, and Poverty,   

164.  
Mine and my brethren's Office (though it be  
Both sweet and glorious, yet) must stoop to His,  
Who was the Guardian of Divinity,  
And of the Mother of all sweetnesses.  
And yet no Angel envied him his place  
Who ever looked upon his wondrous face.   

165.  
What Gravity sits there, and what Delight,  
What Tenderness, and what Austerity!  
How high and humble are his looks, how bright  
And modest are his eyes! how sweetly He  
Even in this Glory seems not to forget  
That Cloud which upon Him in earth did sit!   

166.  
But look, and see thou start not at the sight,  
Those Rays, though more than Sunlike, lovely be;  
Here comes of Heaven and Earth the choice Delight,  
The Queen of Softness, and of Purity.  
Millions of Loves come tripping in Her way,  
Flown from her Eye in a forerunning Ray.   

167.  
Behold Her face, and read all Paradise,  
And more, in Flesh and Blood: In vain we seek  
For flowers, for Gems, for Stars, to equalise  
The gallantry of Her illustrious Cheek,  
At whose sweet Composition, every Grace  
Came running in, for fear to lose its place.   

168.  
All Cherubs, and all Seraphs have I seen  
In their high beauties on heavens Holidays,  
But yet the gracious Glories of this Queen  
Sweetly out-glitters their best tire of Rays.  
What studied scorn would Pagan wits have thrown  
Upon their Venus, if they this had known,   

169.  
This Mother of Divinest Love, as pure  
As is that other putrid! Noblest Tongues  
When they triumphant are, and would be sure  
With life and bliss and joy to grace their Songs,  
First chant the Son, and then the Mother, He  
Begins, and she makes up the Harmony.   

170.  
Her Crown is full Imperial, yet not decked  
With oriental Diamonds, but thick set  
With purer Jewels: for the most select  
Virtues (because her own) do garnish it:  
And yet all those but the faint Copies be  
Of her rich Hearts Original Treasury.   

171.  
I need not tell thee Mary is her Name,  
Who teacheth Majesty to be so mild:  
This cold dead Pavement lively doth proclaim  
Whose feet with newborn Lilies it have filled:  
Whose but the Virgin-mothers' steps could bless  
A Soil so barren with such fertileness?   

172.  
Turn Psyche, and behold; Here comes the King  
The King himself, of Royal Chastity.  
She turned: But as He forth was issuing,  
Intolerable Beams from His did fly  
Upon her face: she started at the stroke,  
And rubbed her dazzled eyes, and so awoke.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO III. The Girdle, or Love-Token.  
ARGUMENT.  

HEr Spouse in Token of His royal Love  
A Girdle unto Psyche sends: wherein  
The accurate works Historik Beauty strove  
The radiant Materials to outshine.  
The Rich Embroidery Phylax doth expound,  
And with the Token than the Maid surround.   

1.  
SHort Taste of Pleasures, how dost thou torment  
A liquorish Soul when once inflamed by Thee!  
The edge of all Desire would soon be spent,  
Didst Thou not whet it to that keen degree  
That nothing but complete Fruition will  
The longing of its wakened stomach fill.   

2.  
The pined Man, on whom a thinner She  
Insatiable Famine, long hath fed;  
Desires no Heaven or Paradise to see  
But only what lies moulded up in Bread.  
One glimpse of this, bids Hope return, and light  
Life in those Eyes which were bequeathed to Night,   

3.  
But if that Morn of Comfort damped be,  
And his young Joys snatched from his Eyes again:  
The fugitive Blessing mocks his Misery,  
And by rebound exalts it to a strain  
Of higher Punishment; his Fancy more  
Does gnaw him now, than Hunger did before.   

4.  
So Psyche famished with strong Desire  
Of her dear Spouse, no sooner fed her eyes  
On his first Lustre, but that mystic Fire  
Turned all her Heart into Joys Sacrifice.  
She began to scorn all other Days but this  
Whose Dawn had broached such golden Floods of Bliss.   

5.  
But when immensity of Beams had cast  
That cloud of Weakness on her Mortal Eye,  
And she the longed-for light itself had lost  
In too much light; her Longing swelled so high;  
That did not sighs unload her Heart, and it,  
Th' impatient Tumour would her bosom split.   

6.  
She sighs, and thinks; and then she sighs again:  
For every thought which laboured to comprise  
What she had but half-seen, makes her complain  
Her thoughts were dazzled, as before her Eyes.  
Yet still she thinks, and still she loves to be  
Puzzled in that delicious Misery.   

7.  
And, happy Ye, stout Eagles, happy Ye,  
cry's she, whose genuine Eyes are tempered  
To 〈◊〉 brave pitch, that the full Majesty  
Of your beloved Sun can never shed  
Such 〈◊〉 extremities of Heaven, but you  
Can 〈◊〉 them in, as fast as they can flow.   

8.  
You perched on some safe Rock, can sit and see  
When the young East unlocks his ruby gate,  
How from the 〈◊〉 bed of Roses he  
Sweeter than it, doth rise: what Robe of state  
That Day He chooseth, and what Tyre of light  
He on his Temples binds, there to grow bright.   

9  
Into his Chariot of flaming Gold  
You see him mount, and give his purple Steeds  
Leave to draw out the Day: You see him rolled  
Upon his diamond Wheels, whose Bounty breeds  
That populous Family of Pearls which dwells  
On eastern shores close in their Mother-shells.   

10.  
You see him climb up to heavens silver Hill,  
And through cross Cancer make the Hours run right.  
There with his widest Looks your own you fill,  
And riot in that royal Feast of light,  
Whilst to your eyes your souls fly up and gaze  
On every beauty of his highnoon Face.   

11.  
You see him when into the steepdown West  
He throws his course, and in th' Atlantic Deep  
Washes the sweat from his 〈◊〉 Brow and Breast,  
And cools his smoking 〈◊〉, and goes to sleep  
Among the watery Nymphs. who in his rest  
Waft him through by-paths back into his East.   

12.  
Thus the kind Day makes all her hours attend  
Your undisturbed Joys; But fainting Me  
With one poor minute she will not befriend  
That I my fairer, sweeter Sun may see.  
Yet why blame I the Day? She's clear and fair:  
But you, adulterate Eyes, too cloudy are.   

13.  
Had you been constant, such had been my Bliss:  
But you with faithless cowardice gave in.  
Surely I'll be revenged on you for this,  
Till you repent your Treachery in Brine.  
Perhaps when Tears have washed you clean, the pure  
And free face of my Spouse you may endure.   

14.  
These querulous sighs, by their tempestuous Blast  
Drove on the Cloud, and now the Rain began;  
Drops great and numerous down her Cheeks made haste  
For more and greater still came crowding on;  
〈◊〉 either eyelid sprinkled in the Crowd,  
A living Rainbow on its margin showed.   

15.  
But as the Storm swelled high in Phylax flies,  
And much ado his yearning sweetness had  
To bridle in his sympathetick eyes  
Seeing how great a flood Phyche's had made:  
Were not eternal Joys deep Printed on  
Angelic Spirits, sure now his springs had run,   

16.  
But with his Wing he wiped her blubbered face,  
And fanned fresh comfort on her fainting Mind:  
Quairell not with thine Eyes, thy Vision was  
Too visible, said he, and they, though blind,  
Performed their duty, being clogged as yet  
With lazy Dust, for sprightful signts unfit.   

17.  
Have patience, till that Dust be put to bed  
And mixed with the grave; then shall thine Eye  
With ample vigorous Beams embellished,  
Open into a full capacity  
Of viewing Him, whose lovely Princely look  
Shall be thy safe and everlasting Book.   

18.  
Mean while, this Token He by me doth send  
Hoping Thou'lt wear 't for his sake next thine heart:  
No Lover 〈◊〉 wooed his adored Friend  
With ticher Present; That thou ne'er may'st start  
From his affection; with this Girdie he  
Desues to bind thee to Felicity.   

19  
The Ground's a texture all of Turtles down  
Which dares call Virgin-Snow both harsh and black:  
For he himself deep died it in his own  
River of Whiteness, which its Spring doth take  
From under His great throne, where once when He  
But dipped his hand, the Fount proved Purity,   

20.  
Unto a Grace to spin He put it out,  
That the fine thread might answer her neat hand:  
Then in the Jewell-house of Heaven he sought  
What Gems to Honour with this ground: The Strand  
Of precious India no such Treasure shows;  
Above, the Ocean of true Jewels flows.   

21.  
Ten thousand glittering things he turned o'er,  
And wished Thee every one, Yet if, said He  
I on my Darling throw this massy store,  
'Twill to a Burden swell my Courtesy:  
She's tender, and I cannot but be so;  
I wish her all, but these for all shall go.   

22.  
And those were jasper's, Diamonds, Onyxes,  
Topazes, beryls, Rubies, Amethysts;  
All ready fitted for embroideries,  
But richer far than ever flamed on Priests  
Or Prince's Crown: which as he sending was  
To set on work another curious Grace,   

23.  
His Snowy Mother, waiting all that while  
At his right hand, melted down on her knee,  
And sweetly begged that Office. In a smile,  
(His usual visage toward her and Thee,)  
He grants her kind request. Yet stay, says He,  
And let thy Needle of my choosing be.   

24.  
A Twist of Glories o'er his shoulders thrown  
About his back a sportful Qniver rolled,  
Of metal in this grosser World unknown,  
The thrice-refined Quintessence of Gold.  
Yet was the splendid House less pure and fine  
Than were the sweet Inhabitants within.   

25.  
No sooner He unlocked the glorious Lid,  
But a pure Cloud of living Joys and Smiles  
Which in that merry Region had been bred,  
Breathes out itself, and the Spectators fills  
With vigorous Pleasures, and with fresh Desires  
To view that Fountain whence such Bliss expires   

26.  
Innumerable arrows there do lie  
Keeping each other warm with mutual flames;  
For mystic Ardour is the metal they  
Are made of, metal purer than those Beams  
Which play about the stars, or those which flow  
From Phebu's eyes, when they in High-noon glow.   

27.  
The finest Rays which darted purest light,  
From his own crown great Love himself did cull  
And these said He, shall be my Arms in fight;  
With this Artillery I'll my Qaiver fill:  
The Heavn's already bend from East to West,  
And that's the Bow by which my darts I'll cast.   

28.  
there's no such thing, believe it Psyche, there,  
As leaden Arrows, steeped in Scorn and Hate:  
Each Dart's a son of splendour, and does wear  
A rich remembrance of its Master's fate,  
For in his blood, the blood of Love, died deep,  
Its tincture and its virtue it doth keep.   

29.  
With these he wounds his best beloved Hearts,  
And by the wound sets open to Life its way:  
Life is the point of these mysterious Darts  
Which with pure Joy and dainty Vigour slay.  
They slay indeed, yet still reviving be;  
They nothing murder but Mortality.   

30.  
The Hairs of softest Flax grow gross and course  
When these draw near, so delicare are they:  
Yet cruel steel strikes with less boisterous force,  
And with less fatal certainty doth slay.  
Immortal Eyes alone can see them, but  
Not fence the Blow, if they at them beshot.   

31.  
Love choosing one of these from its bright Nest,  
Applies it towards his all-peircing eye,  
From whose acute intention there pressed  
A Ray so potent, that immediately  
The yielding Dart does answer it, and now  
Becomes a Needle, and its Eye can show.   

32.  
Then from his golden Locks, that curled Grove  
Where thousand little Loves for ever play,  
He plucked an Hair: and this, said He will prove  
Sufficient Thread to finish all thy gay  
Embroidery; 'twill stretch and always be  
Longer and longer to Eternity.   

33.  
Here take thy Tools, and let th' Invention be  
Thine own Conceit: for who can better fit  
The Emblematic gift of Chastity,  
Than thou the Mother both of Me and it:  
She bowing low, her thanks and Duty throws  
Before his feet, and to her work she goes.   

34.  
Millions of Graces tripped after h●r,  
The fair attendants on her 〈◊〉 rain,  
Unto that Tower of living Crystal where  
Thy Vision lately Thee did entertain:  
That Mi●●ie Way which down Heavn's Mountain flows  
Its beauteous smoothness to her footsteps owes.   

35.  
Oft had she traced it; (for you see the Way  
Is broad, and Heavn's fair amplitude doth suit.)  
Yet ne'er with cheerlier Countenance than that Day,  
〈◊〉 the decotum she did well compute,  
Rejoicing that this Virgin-work should be  
〈◊〉 to the Mother of Virginity.   

36.  
The Castle Gares did in a smile stand open  
To see their Queen, and bid her welcome in.  
She looks about her in that curious shop  
Of Purities, uncertain where to 'gin.  
Nothing dislikes Her, but she spends her care  
Among so many Bests, which to prefer.   

37.  
The lofty Roof of the illustrious Hall  
With Sighs and amorous Languishment was seeled,  
From whence upon the princely floor did fall  
Full many an hearty Tear, which there did yield  
A 〈◊〉 Pavement, which the cool Grounds Kiss  
Into chaste firmitude did chrystalize,   

38.  
The Twilights tears 〈◊〉 in the Laps of flowers  
Reflected not so 〈◊〉 Heavn's rising Eye,  
When Phoebus let in the diurnal Hours,  
And trimmed his face upon the Morning sky,  
As these reverberated that fair Look  
Which from the Virgins entering face they took.   

39  
The Walls impeopled were with all the stories  
Of those whom Chastity had clothed in White,  
From ancient Abel's most unspotted Glories,  
Unto the latest Beams of Virgin-light:  
That Abel, who first to his 〈◊〉 tied  
Martyrdoms 〈◊〉, in whose Bed he died,   

40.  
But at the upper end a Table hung  
All of one sparkling Diamond, fair and high,  
Whose brighter lines can by no Angel's tongue  
Be fully read. It was the History  
Of Love himself, craved by art so divine  
That every Word the Table did out shine.   

41.  
Long looked she on this pourtract, and forgot  
By looking long, almost for what she came:  
The Sight 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 her eyes that she had not  
Her wont power to be Queen of them.  
At 〈◊〉 she calls them home, and bids withal  
Her heart come back, which out with them had stole.   

42.  
Then, ô. cries she, that this unworthy Hand  
Could draw those lines of Bliss, of Life, of Love!  
A thousand years I d be content to stand  
And practise here, so I at length might prove  
Artist enough to form one Copy, which  
With more than all Heaven would the Earth enrich.   

43.  
But my Almighty Lord and Son who did  
React his stories on this diamond sceen  
By his own finger, can be copied  
Only by it: Though He would make a Queen  
Of worthless Me, yet He was pleased still  
In his poor Handmaid some defect should dwell.   

44.  
This Word strait summoned into the Cheek  
Of all the Graces which about her pressed  
An universal Blush, to see how meek  
Their Empress was: And give us leave at least  
Say they, to copy this Humility  
More due to Us, than unto royal Thee.   

45.  
But, turning to the next her studious eye,  
And reading in that Table fairly drawn  
The sweet Exploits of her Virginity,  
She blushed more than they, and of their own  
Blush made them all ashamed, to see how far  
It was out-blushed and out-grained by her.   

46.  
What help, cries she, for He is Lord and King,  
What help if he be pleased to have it so!  
If He my Memory next his own will bring,  
And print it in a Book of Diamond too!  
'Tis not the picture of what I did merit,  
But what his love hath made me to inherit.   

47.  
With that the Graces all upon their knecs  
In a conspiracy of reverend Love  
Assault her thus: Seek no more stories; these  
Of thine, the best embroidery will prove.  
Degrade not what thy Son prefers, nor be  
Because he loves thee, thine own Enemy.   

48.  
Nay gentle Sisters, sweetly she replies,  
I, love myself too well to be so proud:  
Let other Hands applaud my Victories,  
But to mine own it must not be allowed,  
Were that my Work, this Needle at each letter  
Would prick my Heart, because I was no better.   

49.  
Lo in that Ruby Table there I see  
A heavenly Story: well the Man I know,  
A precious Friend both to my Lord and Me  
When We with Him were Sojourners below.  
Pure was his Life, pure was his Office too,  
Cleansing the Way where Pureness was to go.   

50.  
Whilst on the noble Baptist thus her Eye  
And Praises dwelled: a Grace had fill d in haste  
Her lap with Lilies, and the maiden prise  
Into a Chair of Alabaster cast.  
The gentle Virgin smiled at first to see't,  
Then down she sat, and made her Cushion sweet.   

51.  
Her diligent Maiden's compass Her about,  
And with a Jewel each one ready stands.  
To her pure Work she falls; and as she wrought  
A sweet Creation followed her Hands:  
Upon her Knee apace the Table grew,  
And every Figure to the Texture flew.   

52.  
As active Fancy in a Midnight's Dream  
With strange extemporal dexterity  
What Sceens, what Throngs, what Worlds she lists, doth frame,  
Making the most divided things agree,  
And most united quarrel; though one Cell  
Be all the room for this vast spectacle:   

53.  
So wrought the nimble Artist, and admired  
Herself, to see the Work go on so fast.  
Sure the ambitious History desired  
To this its own new honour to make haste,  
And purchase to its single Ruby Beams  
The various Lustres of ten thousand gems.   

54.  
The forward Figures crowded close, for all  
Would needs come in, and rather chose to be  
Justled and thronged, and nipped into a small  
(Yet a well ordered) Epitome,  
Than in that little Dwelling lose their seat,  
Where sweet Contraction would make them more great   

55.  
And now the Girdle proves a Multitude  
Of sundry things made friends and tied in one:  
But eminent among the rest is showed  
The lovely Master of the business John,  
One-different John, who, as the Work doth rise,  
Lives, preaches, washes, suffers prison, dies.   

56.  
Th' Embroidery finished thus: that with more speed  
She might present it to her mighty Son,  
She gives command her Birds be harnested:  
Quick as the Word her ready Maidens run,  
And from the milky shore of the next spring  
Five Pair of her immortal Pigeons bring.   

57  
Her Coach was double gilt with that pure Light  
Whose grosser part fills Phebu's face with glory:  
Not glaring like his Eyes, but Mild and White,  
Shining much like its Owners Virgin-storie.  
Her Coursers take their place, and she the Reins  
Almost as soft's the Hand which them contains.   

58.  
As through the whirling Orbs she faster flies,  
The new Embroidery to the Stars she shows:  
They twinkled all, ashamed of their own Eyes;  
So was the splendid Zodiac which throws  
His spangled Girdle round about the Spheres  
To keep in order and gird up the years.   

59  
Orion's Blush confessed how much this sight  
Outvied all the glories he could show:  
His yielding Countenance fell, and to the bright  
Triumphant Apparition did bow;  
Three times he tried, and fain he would have 〈◊〉  
How to unbuckle his out-shined Belt.   

60.  
But coming to the Sovereign Palace, she  
Hasts in to her expecting Lord and lays  
Her Face, and Work upon his Footstool; He  
Her dainty pains with high Approof repays;  
Yet, On this Ground had thine own Story grown,  
The Girdle would, said he, have fairer shown.   

61.  
With that, unto his Cabinet he goes,  
Where Spirits of purest Gems extracted lie:  
Out of which Heart of Richness he did choose  
The softest Drops, and in one Jewel tie  
Such Rarities as my Tongue cannot tell:  
But thy dear Soul their ravishments shall feel.   

62.  
For to the Girdle having linked it,  
He deigned to grace Me who stood wondering by;  
Take this, said he, and see how it will fit  
Thy Psyche, but more mine: Be sure to tie  
It close and strait, that by this Token she  
May understand how near she is to Me.   

63.  
The second Hours scarce entering since I took  
It, and my leave: and here the Present is.  
Come wipe thine Eyes, a purified Look  
Is 〈◊〉 due 〈◊〉 where the sight is Bliss.  
〈◊〉 Phylax opened the Girdle, whence such beams  
Broke loose, as drowned Psyche in their streams.   

64.  
For as the rural Swain, whose courser Eyes  
Ne'er stared on other beauteous things than what  
Begay the simple Fields: when first he spies  
A Prince's Wardrobe open, strait is shot  
Quite through with Wonder, and in fear doth deem  
The sight is too too glorious for Him:   

65.  
So mortal Psyche was at first dismayed  
At the immortal Spectacle: When he  
Cries out, What Error makes thee thus afraid:  
This Zon's not torrid, though it flaming be;  
Nor sent thy Spouse this Token to destroy  
Thine Eyes, but diet them with sparkling Joy.   

66.  
See'st thou that Building there, which lifteth high  
Its shining Head, and scorns to pay the Sun  
Homage for any beams, (for sanctity  
Glitters about it, and 'twixt every stone  
Lies thicker than the Cement,) know that this  
Illustrious Pile, the Jewish Temple is.   

67.  
Many long years had run their Round, and spent  
Their own upon heavens lasting Orbs, before  
This Fabric first grew to its Compliment:  
But here a moment raised it, and to more  
Magnificence than it at first could show;  
Such potent Art from Mary's fingers flew,   

68  
That reverend Senior whose high-mitered Head  
Points out his princely Office, is the Priest.  
You in his awful Countenance might have read  
What his Attire proclaims: Were he undressed,  
He still with Virtues would arrayed be,  
Who now clothes holy Robes with Sanctity.   

69.  
His left Hand on his Sealed Mouth he lays,  
Back to the Altar he his right doth stretch:  
His Eyes are full of talk, and try always  
How they without a Tongue his Mind may preach,  
At length that Throng of People there began  
To guess the Sense, and what befell the Man.   

70.  
Whilst he did on the Incense Altar place  
It's aromatic Fuel, and supply  
What Heat or sweetness there deficient was  
By many a fervent Vow, and precious Sigh:  
His Cloud flew highest, for the Incense smoke  
Soon fainted, but his sighs through all Heaven broke.   

71.  
And being there, upon their odorous Back  
An Angel gets: whence posting down to Earth  
Unto the Temple he his way doth take:  
Where standing by the Altar, he breathes forth  
A sweet repayment unto Zachary  
Of what his Soul had panted out so high.   

72.  
Behold, says he, thy Vows and Prayers are  
Come back to fill thy bosom with Success:  
I am no Messenger, great Saint, of Fear,  
Trust Me, and trust thy privileged Bliss:  
Thine Heart so fruitful in sublime Affection  
Hath for thy Body earned an high production.   

73.  
Thy dear Eliza, whom thy Piety  
As near in Virtue as in Wedlock ties,  
Shall have a son in whom thine Eyes shall see  
The fruit of both those Knots; whom Heaven doth prize  
So high, that I aforehand must with thee  
Bargain about his Name, John it must be.   

74.  
A Son of Smiles and Gladness he shall prove.  
And make thine aged Heart young with Delight,  
The Morning he is born, shall Joy and Love  
Together spring, and take their blessed flight  
To thousand Souls, where they shall sit and tell  
What Hopes, what Wonders in thy John do dwell.   

75.  
Never did friendly Stars conspire to frame  
So Fortunate a Birth for Noblest Kings:  
In Gods own Eye, wherein the World doth seem  
Less than these Atoms on the Airs light wings,  
Great shall thy Son appear: Let Doubting go,  
Immensity resolves to make him so.   

76.  
For whilst he nestls in the narrow Cell  
Of thine Eliza's Womb, the Spirit of Heaven  
(O how much vaster than all it!) shall fill  
His breeding Heart: which, when it once is thriven  
Unto a pitch mature, shall nobly prove  
To Earth, how it by Heaven alone doth move.   

77.  
No boisterous roaring Wine, or rampant Drink  
Shall his sweet Lipp deflower: His cup must be  
Filled at some Virgin-Fountains Crystal brink,  
And teach his Palate too Virginity:  
For in his sacred Veins no fire must flow  
But what heavens Spirit pleaseth there to blow.   

78.  
And with that fire He Israel must refine,  
Israel o'ergrown with rust and filth; that so  
He may make clean the Way where his divine  
Redeemer means close after Him to go.  
For braver Flames ne'er warmed Elia's breast  
Than in thy Sons shall make their gallant Nest.   

79.  
Alas, the Priest replies, decayed I  
Want Blood enough to paint a Blush at this  
Too worthy News: Can fifty Summers fly  
Back, and with Youth my withered Spirits bless!  
Frost in my Veins, and Snow upon my Head  
Bid me already write More than half dead.   

80.  
Nor in Eliza doth less deadness Live:  
How then in two such Winters can there grow  
A Spring whose sudden vigorousness may give  
New Lives to Us, and make them overflow  
Into a third? Sweet Angel thy strange Word  
May well some sign unto my Faith afford.   

81.  
Sure then thou knowst me not, the Angel cries:  
For hadst thou known that Gabriel I am,  
Who in the Presence-Chamber of the skies  
Give high attendance to God and the Lamb,  
Thou mightst have well presumed no fraud could come  
From purest Verities eternal Home,   

82.  
Yet shalt thou have a sign, and I will fast  
Seal't on thy faithless Tongue which asked it.  
Henceforth thou shalt be Mute; until thou hast  
Seen what thou wouldst not credit: Then I'll let  
Thy Tongue be loose again, that it may sing  
A Benedictus to thy gracious King.   

83.  
The Angel's Word full in the Priest's face flew,  
And fastened mystic Chains upon his Tongue.  
He soon perceived how strong it was and true:  
And with his Eyes and Heart forestalled his Song.  
He thinks and Looks his earnest Hymn, and pays  
For his kind Censure correspondent Praise.   

84.  
This put Him in that posture there. But now  
Behold that sober Matron in whose Eye  
Sage Chastity her reverend looks doth show.  
Lo how the Promise in her Womb grows high,  
And by its Silent swelling doth confess  
The same her Husband's mutnesse doth express.   

85.  
Observe that gentle Stranger hither come  
To see her pregnant Cousin: Her array  
Is plain and poor; her Looks still seem at Home  
Though she be stepped abroad, so closely they  
Are shrouded in this Veil; and Modest she  
Even in this Girdle would not veiwed be.   

86.  
'Tis she whose Handiwork the Girdle is,  
And who upon herself least cost bestows,  
Whose sweet Salute, with ravishment did seize  
Eliza's Heart. See how her Arms she throws  
In wide amazement; See how fain would those  
Perls which have opeed her mouth, her words disclose.   

87.  
All Glories which our Female Tribe have crowned  
Cried she, shrink in their da'zled Eyes to see  
Those brighter Blessings which in thee abound  
Thou Wonder of pregnant Virginity:  
All happiness dwells in thy God, yet He  
Hath now his Mansion taken up in thee.   

88  
For when thy Salutation through mine Ear  
Struck Heaven into my Heart: the Child which lay  
Listening within me, proved that He did hear  
And ken the Language too; nor would he stay  
To act his triumph in some larger room,  
But For his dancing house leaped in my Womb.   

89.  
He by thy sound knew what within thee was,  
And understanding that his Lord was near,  
Thought it high time to be at work, and as  
He might, begin his active office here:  
A true Forerunner, who doth leap unborn;  
Unto his Lords strange Day, a wondrous Morn.   

90.  
But mark that Knot of busy Jewels there,  
Whose cheerly Looks do some good News proclaim:  
The Infant's born, and those his Kinstolks are,  
At's Circumcision. But about his Name  
A kind dispute arose what it should be:  
All these will have it none but Zachary.   

91.  
His holy Father's Name will sit most fair  
Upon the Son, say they, who now doth rise  
The long expected and miraculous Heir,  
From whom may flow a Brood of Zacharies.  
Whence should a princely Eaglets title be  
Drawn, but from his own noble Family.   

92.  
O no, the Mother cries, miscall him not,  
His Name, before himself, conceived was:  
〈◊〉 wise Heaven best understandeth what  
Title will fit its Gifts: For me, alas,  
So much my Spouses Name I love, that none  
I would prefer, But Heaven hath chosen John,   

93.  
So hot the loving quarrel grew, that now  
To Zacharies decision they run.  
See where he writes: that golden leaf doth show  
The Oracles Resolve, His Name is John.  
In what fair equipage those Letters stand!  
For Mary's fingers here did guide his hand.   

94.  
No sooner had his Pen dropped that sweet Name  
But his long-froazen Tongue again was thawn:  
For Gabriel (though undiscerned) came  
And loosed the chain which he on it had thrown.  
The Prisoner glad of this Release, does dance,  
And with inspired Lays his Joys advance.   

95.  
Behold his Friends in that admiring Throng,  
Whose Eyes and Hands Amazement lifts so high,  
To see at length his dead and burted Tongue  
Revive, and yield a vocal Progente  
Of holy Praise: thus strangely answering  
That Birth which did from his 〈◊〉 Body spring.   

96.  
That feathered, and particoloured Thing  
Who at her big-swolln Mouth a Trump doth hold,  
And hastens hence with ready stretched Wing,  
Is noble Fame, which posteth to unfold  
These Miracles in such commanding sound  
As may both through all ears and hearts rebound.   

97.  
Look where she's perched now upon yonder Hill,  
And from that lofty Pulpit round about  
Doth all the Quarters of Judea fill  
With stranger News than thither e'er was brought.  
Thus John, who came to be a Voice, speaks high  
First in his Flathers Tongue, then in Flames Cry.   

98.  
But there the sceen is changed, where Desolation  
The sole Inhabitant is, except that one  
Poor Ermite, who chose his tame Habitation  
Amidst its Wildness: that plain thing is John.  
'Tis strange how Mary Jewels taught to seem  
So vile a Garb, as she hath put on him.   

99  
That Cincture stands but for a leathern Thong,  
That Vestment for a Coat of Camels hair:  
No other Wardrobe did to Him belong  
But what upon his simple self he bore.  
No other riches will I own, said he,  
But only to be rich in Poverty.   

100  
I'll rob no Ermyn of its dainty skin  
To make mine own grow proud: No Cloth of gold  
To me shall dangerous emulation win;  
I live to live, I live not to be sold,  
And therefore shall be fine enough if I  
Be dressed but in the robes of Modesty.   

101.  
Let scarlets Blush the guilty Court array,  
Let wanton silk smile on the Gallants back;  
Let linen soft and pure as snow, go lay  
Its own on those who other Whiteness lack;  
My Bravery must be, an Eye to please  
Which sees no beauty in such things as these.   

102.  
Let gaudy Fashion-mongers every day  
Mis-shape themselves, and vex their giddy Brain  
To see some novel Cut or Garb which they  
Were never yet disfigured with: in vain  
Striving to catch the Fashion, which is still  
Like Phebe's face, but one day at the full.   

103.  
My Fashion constant as my Nature is,  
Which taught me it: Nor is the Sun midway  
His Race, e'er I have travelled through my Dress,  
That East does open mine Eyes, which opes the Day,  
And I arrayed am as soons the Sun  
Who have none but my Bed-cloaths to put on.   

104.  
This hairy Covering is my only Bed,  
My shirt, my cloak, my gown, my every-thing.  
When over it these several Names I read,  
His furniture I well can spare the King,  
The tumult of whose store doth scarce supply  
All things so fit as my Epitome.   

105.  
See'st thou that bubbling Crystal Psyche, there?  
That spring's the living Cellar of the Saint,  
Thence daily does he draw his Virgin-beer,  
And makes his Blood with those cool streams acquaint.  
Cool streams indeed, yet such as best agree  
With the most fervent Flames of Piety.   

106.  
His common Diet those poor Locusts are;  
And when he feasts, his Mouth he lifts but up  
And strait those courteous Trees, 〈◊〉 mend his Fare,  
Sincerest Honey into it do drop:  
And dining thus, he holds not down his face,  
Till he to Heaven has paid his sweeter Grace.   

107.  
Here with himself He did converse: a rare  
And painful thing when Men in Crowds do dwell,  
Where upon those who crowd them still they stare  
Having no space to see themselves, until,  
Well skilled in all their Neighbour-company,  
But unacquainted with themselves, they die.   

108.  
The rest of his Acquaintance all were high,  
Beyond his Eyes reach, but within his Hearts:  
For with what speed the Lightning down doth fly  
Through every stage of Heaven this upward darts  
Nor will its sprightful journey bounded be  
By any Rampart but Immensity.   

109.  
At God it 〈◊〉, nor ever fails to hit  
Its blessed Mark, whither on Prayers Wings  
Or Contemplation's it takes its flight:  
And there with busy Angels ranked, it sings,  
Admires, adores, and studies to forget  
There is a Breast below which looks for it.   

110.  
How often has his fainting Body made  
Complaint of his injurious Piety!  
How often has it cried, I am betrayed,  
My life and spirits all away do fly,  
And smile in Heaven, whilst I below am left  
To live this Death, of death and life bereft.   

111.  
That Cave his Palace was, both safe and strong  
Because not kept by jealous Door nor Bar:  
Those Groves his Gardens, where he walked among  
The Family of Dread, yet knew no fear.  
Fear's proper Region and Dominion is  
A guilty Breast, more than a Wilderness.   

112.  
Those Bears, those Boars, those Wolves, whose ireful face  
Strikes Terror into other Mortal Eyes,  
With friendly Mildness upon him did gaze,  
As on old Adam in calm Paradise.  
They slandered are with Salvagenesse; No spleer  
They owe to Man, but only unto Sinne.   

113.  
So wild, so black, and so mis-shaped a Beast  
Is Sin, that other Monsters it do hate  
As a more monstrous thing than they, and cast  
About how to revenge it: But the Gate  
And Looks of Purity so reverend are,  
That dreadful Beasts wait upon it with fear.   

114.  
The beams of this Angelic Life at last  
Broke out and summoned in the Admiration  
Of all the Country: Man, that runder Beast,  
Convinc d by these Examples, learned their fashion.  
Behold that thronging Rout which hither flies;  
See how they stare, and scarce believe their Eyes.   

115.  
These Deserts nothing less than such do seem,  
Being crowded from themselves, and now become  
Judea's Towns, and fair Jerusalem  
Which hither have removed their populous Home.  
What now has John lost by his private Cell,  
To which whole Towns and Cities flock to dwell?   

116.  
And having now so fair an Auditory,  
The noble Ermite is resolved to Preach  
Behold, says, he, the Dawn of that great Glory  
Which to behold, the Patriarches did reach  
Their Necks and Eyes through many a shady thing  
In your Horizon, now begins to spring,   

117.  
O fail ye not to meet his spotless Beams  
With undefiled Hearts, for such is He,  
And will Baptise you with refined streams  
Of searching Fire. Then first be Washed by Me;  
My Water for His Fire will you prepare,  
As must your Tears for this my Water here.   

118.  
Observest thou Psyche, how that silver stream  
It's limpid self doth through the Girdle wind:  
This Jordan is, look how the People seem  
At strife who first should enter in, to find  
A better Baptism in those floods, which may  
Their fruitless Legal Washings wash away.   

119.  
But mark Who standeth there: how sweet his Eye,  
How delicate and how divine his Face  
Embellished with heart-conquering Majesty!  
Wert thou to choose thy Spouse, wouldst thou not place  
Thy soul on Him? 'Tis He: o no, it is  
As much of him as Jewels can express,   

120.  
To be Baptised, but not made clean, comes He  
Who is more spotless than that living Light  
Which gilds the Crest of heavens Sublimity:  
He comes to be Baptised, and wash white  
Baptism itself, that it henceforth from Him  
And his pure Touch, with Purity may swim.   

121.  
As when amongst a gross ignoble Crowd  
Of Flints and Pebbles, and such earth-bred Stones,  
An heav'n-descended Diamond doth shroud  
Its Lustres brave ejaculations.  
Although it escapes the test of Vulgar Eyes,  
Yet a wise Jeweller the Gem descries:   

122.  
So John his Master strait discovered;  
And Heaven forbid that worthless I, cries He,  
Should wash a thing more bright than it, and shed  
These less clean Waters upon mighty Thee.  
Dear Lord, my great Pollutions bid Me fall  
Prostrate, and unto thee for Baptism call.   

123.  
If I be Lord thy gentle Spouse replies,  
Pay then thy Duty to my first Injunction,  
It must be so. This Mandate did suffice  
The Saint, and He submits to his high Function.  
Cast but thine Eye a little up the stream,  
Wading in Crystal there thou seest them.   

124.  
Old Jordan smiled receiving such high Pay  
For those small Pains obedient he had spent  
Making his pliant Waves open a dry Way  
When numerous Israel into Canaan went.  
Nor does he envy now Pactolu's streams,  
Nor Eastern Floods, whose Paths are paved with Gems.   

125.  
The Waves came crowding one upon another  
Unto their Lord their chaste Salute to give:  
Each one did chide and justle back his Brother,  
And with contentious foaming murmur strive  
To kiss its Maker, and more spotless grow  
Than from its Virgin spring it first did flow.   

126.  
But those most happy Drops the Baptist cast  
Upon his Saviour's head, returned with Joy,  
And to the Wealthy Ocean making haste,  
Amazed the Treasures which there heaped lay.  
The Deeps looked up, and opened their richest Breast  
To make these Guests a correspondent Nest.   

127.  
See there thy Spouse is on the Bank, and more  
Than Heaven come down, and pitched upon his Head:  
That snowy Dove which perched heretofore  
High on the all-illustrious Throne of God,  
Hath chose this seat, nor thinks it a Descent  
Upon such terms to leave the Firmament.   

128.  
And Heaven well witnessed this strange truth, which at  
That wondrous instant opened its mouth, and cried,  
This is my Darling Son, in whom are set  
All my Joys Jewels. O how far and wide  
That Voice did fly, on which each Wind caught hold  
And round about the World the Wonder told.   

129.  
This business done, to Court the Baptist goes,  
Where lusty Sins, as well as Herod reign:  
Long Sanctity had made him fit with those  
Proud Enemies a Combat to maintain.  
He who does nothing but his Maker fear,  
Against all Monsters may proclaim a War.   

130.  
Behold how Pomp besots great Herod there:  
O what impostumes of fond Majesty  
Pride puffs into his face! Dares there appear  
A Censor now a just Truth to apply  
Home to the King, and tell him that his Eyes  
Should rather swell with Tears, his Breast with sighs?   

131.  
Yes: there the Heav'n-embraved Baptist is,  
Who feareth not, but pitieth to see  
A Prince made subject to vile Wickedness.  
Great Sir, the Match unlawful is, cries He:  
O far be it from Kings to break the Law  
For whose Defence so strong their Sceptres grow.   

132.  
Since to thine own Commands just duty Thou  
Expectest from these thy subjects; Let thy Neck  
Not scorn to thine own Maker's yoke to bow.  
The Precedent may dangerous prove, and wrack  
Thy Throne and Kingdom, if thy People read  
Such stat and high Rebellion in their Head.   

133.  
Thy Brother's Wife to Him as near is tied,  
As He himself: o tear Him not in sunder:  
You murder Him alive if you divide  
His Heart, all one with Hers: The worst of Plunder  
Is Mercy if compared with this, which doth  
By tearing off one Half, unravel both.   

134.  
God, who has this Enclosure made, and Her  
To Philip given, still hath left to thee  
And thy free choice, an open Champain, where  
Millions of sweet and Virgin Beauties be.  
Adorn thy Bed with any one beside,  
Only thy Brothers must not be thy Bride,   

135.  
Must not! th' Adulteress cried (for she was by)  
Whither is Herod, or that Youngling King!  
And shall the Acts of awful Majesty  
Be flouted by this upstart prattling Thing?  
O that my bodkin had his Tongue to bore!  
I'd make it sure for preaching me a Whore.   

136.  
Be thou content, my Dear, the King replies,  
I will revenge thy Wrong, for 'tis mine own.  
Rebellions fiery Boils may likelier rise  
From his envenomed Words, against my Crown,  
Then from our spotless Match; which Heaven long bless!  
Hale him to prison, he shall smart for this.   

137.  
(Unhappy Truth, how comes vain Flattery  
To be more gracious at Court than thou,  
Who mightst secure and prosper Majesty,  
Whilst that doth Lies, and Traps, and Poisons strew!  
Is it because sometimes thou rubb'st the sore,  
Or, that thou naked art, and meek, and Poor?)   

138.  
Deep in the City's Bottom sunk there was  
A Goal where Darkness dwelled, and Desolation:  
Through all the Towns proud Taunts enforced to pass  
The Saint is thrust into this Habitation:  
Where straight the noisome Mire doth him begirt,  
Much like a Gem, by Swine trod in the Dirt.   

139.  
Yet these dead Walls, with stones almost as hard  
As that which for a Heart did serve the King,  
Him only in a straighter Desert barred,  
For his high Contemplation still did bring  
heavens latitude into those straits, and swell  
With Angels and with God, that lesser Hell.   

140.  
This is his noble Company, and He  
In his strict Goal more freedom doth enjoy  
Than foolish Herod, though his tetrarchy  
To all his loose Desires wide opes a Way.  
Sin is the foulest Prison, and in this  
Not John, but Herod the close Prisoner is.   

141.  
Yet Herod thinks not so: (what pity 'tis  
That Thought and Fancy thus the scale should sway.  
And ponderous Reasons sober solidness  
Cast as a light and frothy thing away!)  
For rid of this same galling Preacher, He  
Judges himself and all his Pleasures free,   

142.  
And in that freedom means to celebrate  
That Day which Him released from Mother's Womb:  
To crown the Meeting with majestic State,  
His glistering Nobles all to Court must come,  
That Men might in the splendour of each Guest  
Read his magnificence who makes the Feast.   

143.  
Luxurious choice of every kind of Beast  
Was hither brought: No Bird so dear and rare,  
But it was fetched from its highest Nest,  
To build in some acquaint Pie or Platter here.  
To Noah's Ark scarce came a thicker Crowd  
For life, then to be slain there hither flowed.   

144.  
With Earth and Aire, the Sea must help to trim  
A more than Springtide superfluity:  
Large shoals of wanton Fishes here must swim  
In aromatic ponds of Spicery;  
That Herod's ominous Birthday forth may bring  
Death unto almost every kind of Thing.   

145.  
Ambition was the Steward of the Feast.  
The Cook and Cater both, was Luxury:  
Lust tempered the gallant Sauce, and dressed  
The choice inflaming Dainties of the Sea.  
Lo there the King is with his Nobles set,  
And all the crowded Table smokes with meat.   

146.  
Intemperance attended on the Board,  
And crowned with sparkling Wine the foaming Cup.  
The King's Health first went round, which every Lord  
Drowning his own in it, hasts to drink up;  
And prays, He may behold as many years,  
As Dishes on the Board, or in Heaven Starrs.   

147  
The next's the Queens. But then Bowl after Bowl  
They to their female Idols poured down,  
So monstrous were those Draughts, that the Wines Soul  
Had now all theirs subdued, and was grown  
King of them and their Prince: who, belching, cries,  
Enough of this: Come now le's feast our Eyes.   

148.  
For he the young Herodias had spied;  
Whose face no sooner dawned in the Hall,  
But an enchanting meretricious Tide  
Of Sweets and Graces overflowed them all.  
Her beauteous Looks and Dress redoubled be,  
Because her fond Spectators double see.   

149.  
No Siren ever on the watery Stage  
Did act so true a false but lovely part  
The gazing careless Seaman to engage  
In the delicious shipwreck of his heart:  
Nor e'er was Sea so dangerous and deep  
As in this Damsels treacherous Breast did sleep.   

150.  
Behold her there: What studied Neglect  
Upon her shoulders pours her Tresses down:  
How is her Breast with Gems allurements decked,  
Yet wins more eyes and wishes by its own:  
That speaking Nakedness, if self commends,  
And lustful Fancies something further sends.   

151.  
The rest of her Attire, so thin and light,  
With gorgeous hypocrisy doth lay  
More open what it would deny the sight,  
And whilst it stopps, invites into, the way.  
About she swims; and by a courtly Dance,  
Her other beauty's price she doth enhance.   

152.  
All eyes and hearts tripped after Her, as she  
About the Hall her graceful motions measures.  
No nimble Turn could in the 〈◊〉 be  
But Herod's brains turned too: who by these pleasures  
Again grown drunk, unto his 〈◊〉 doth  
Give ease, by vomiting a full-mouthed oath.   

153.  
By Heaven, and my own Majesty, he cries,  
This Dance, sweet Daughter must not want reward:  
For never Venus traversed the skies  
With a more soul-commanding Galliard.  
Let thy Demand be high; for though it be  
Half of my throne, I hold it due to thee.   

154.  
But then the Queen, whose thirst not all the Wine  
At that great Feast could quench, unless it were  
Brewed with the Blood of John, 〈◊〉 soon incline  
Her Daughter to request this Boon for her.  
I ne'er shall think, said the, that Herod is  
Mine, or his Kingdom's Head, whilst John wears his.   

155.  
Thou knowst my Wrongs, and with what pain I wear  
The name of Whore, which He hath on me pinned:  
Help then my righteous Vengeance on, and tear  
Away this Grief which gnaws thy Mother's mind.  
This was enough: back flies the Damsel, and  
Thus sweetens o'er her barbarous Demand.   

156.  
O may the King for ever live, and reign,  
And blessed be this undeserved Day  
Wherein thine Handmaid doth such favour gain,  
That half thy Kingdom shall not say me nay;  
For real is thy royal Word: But why  
Should a poor Maid's ambition tower so high?   

157.  
Indeed that Promise did become the King,  
That like thyself thy Bounty might appear.  
But Heaven forbid that I, so vile a thing,  
Thy sceptres Glories should in sunder tear,  
And break mine Arm with half of that Command  
Whose Totall is too little for thy Hand,   

158.  
A slender Gift more equal Pay will be  
To my Desert: Let me but have my Will  
Over one wretched Worm, which gnaweth thee  
And thy whole Stock: So let the King fulfil  
His royal Word, by giving Me that Head  
Whose Tongue deflowered yours and my Mothers Bed.   

159.  
Alas, the King replies, what have I done!  
O that my Kingdom might my Word recall!  
How shall I help thee now, unhappy John,  
Who in my Promise preached thy Funeral!  
Thy careless Tongue at first thee Prisoner made,  
And my rash lips have thee to death be trayd.   

160.  
O that to day my Lords had not been here  
The solemn Witnesses of my great Vow!  
Must Death intrude, and its sad Warrant bear  
Date upon this my joyous Birthday! How  
Shall Lun-snarle my Promise, and contrive  
That both mine Honour and the Saint may live!   

161.  
Both cannot live, I see; O that I were  
Some private Man, that so I might be free  
Of my repute! but Prince's Honours are  
The People's too, and by Community  
I should make all the Body perjured  
If I myself prove so, who am their Head.   

162.  
And must John die? Bear witness All how loath  
This Word doth fall from my constrained Lip,  
To recompense the too too hasty Oath  
Which from Imprudence, not from Me, did slip.  
Then take his Head: Yet never say that I  
Issued this Warrant, but Necessity.   

163.  
Thus strove the Tyrant by a comely Lie  
To veil the Visage of his hideous Hate,  
For fear the Damsel by his privity  
Might seem to have contrived the Baptists fate:  
Whilst dreading his unlawful Vow to break,  
Adultery He doth with Murder back.   

164.  
Was it not plain that his outrageous Vow  
Did prostitute but half his Realm? and why  
Must the blood thirsty Hypocrite bestow  
More than the Whole? What Prodigality  
Is this, mad Herod? For John's Head alone  
Is worth more than thy Kingdom, or thine own.   

165.  
Lo there the last Dish of great Herod's Feast,  
The Martyr's Head in a fair Charger laid:  
He smiles within, though clouds his face o'r-cast,  
And feeds his soul on it. But the proud Maid  
Knowing her Mother by this Death would live,  
In triumph takes the Dish, and takes her leave.   

166.  
The Royal Beldame in suspense did wait  
To reap her spiteful Stratagems event.  
But when she saw the bloody Present, strait  
Grown young with Savage Joy, her high Content  
She to her dancing Daughter does display  
In her own tripping and lascivious way.   

167.  
Then much like some she-Bear, whose long-wished Prey  
Is fallen at last into her hungry Paws:  
She tears the sacred Lips, and rends a Way  
Unto the reverend Tongue; which our she draws,  
And then with peevish Wounds and scornful Jests  
Her Womanish Revenge on it she Feasts.   

168.  
But mark that Convoy of illustrious Light  
Which seems from this low World to make such haste:  
The better part of John there takes its flight  
Unto a greater Kings than Herod's Feast:  
That Goal, his Body, and this World, were three  
Prisons to Him, who now from all is free.   

169.  
The Patriarches and Prophets all gave way  
When they this greater Saint approaching saw,  
Who now his blessed Harbour doth enjoy  
For those fierce Storms he grappled with below;  
And sweetlier rests in Abraham's bosom, then  
In the adulterous Kings the lustful Queen.   

170.  
This is the Story which the Virgin Mother  
Hath round about thy Girdle made to live.  
But mark this well, my Psyche, 'tis that other  
Selected Jewel which thy Spouse did give  
To crown the rest, and tie up all the story  
In one divine Epitome of glory.   

171.  
Divided 'twixt amazement and delight,  
The Virgin read the strange Embroidery:  
But when on that last Gem she fixed her sight,  
Immortal Joys so swelled her soul, that she  
Runs over with delicious Tears, and cries,  
Come Phylax come, gird me with Paradise.   

172.  
Content, said He, but then be sure to shrink  
And hug yourself alone within yourself:  
The Girdle's wondrous strait, nor must you think  
That any supernumerary Pelf  
Can find a room in this rich mansion, where  
The outward Walls of solid Jewels are.   

173.  
This said: before herself was well a ware,  
He closely buckled it about her Heart.  
Strait she complains: Oh, spare me Phylax spare  
My squeezed soul, lest from herself she start.  
O lose the Buckle! if the time be come  
That I must die, at least afford me room.   

174.  
Must I be girt to death, and not have space  
To fetch one parting sigh before I die?  
O me, whose sins have made my Spouse embrace  
Me with embroidered Tortures, so that I  
The riddle of unhappy Maids, must go  
In travel with more than a Mother's Woe.   

175.  
And so she did indeed: Such matchless Throws  
And Pangs did sting her in her straitened Heart;  
Till at the length she bringeth forth, and shows  
Her wondering self the reason of her smart,  
Whilst from her labouring Breast she pressed sees  
A shapeless Lump of foul Deformities.   

176.  
Imperfect Embryo's, unformed Lust,  
Pin-fethered Fancies, and halfe-shaped Desires,  
Dim Dawns of Fondness, doubtful seeds of Rust,  
Glimmering Embers of corruptive Fires,  
Scarce something, and yet more than Nothing, was  
That mystic Chaos, that dead-living Mass.   

177.  
O how tormenting is the Parturition  
Of tender souls, when they unload themselves  
Of their blind night-conceived Bats of perdition!  
How do the peevish and reluctant Elves  
(Mad with their own birth,) viperously contend  
The labouring bowels of the Heart to rend!   

178.  
This makes Faint-hearted Mortals oft prefer  
The sad Reversion of eternal Pain  
Before this Conflicts Pangs: So they may hear  
A quiet Truce with all their sins maintain,  
They are content, though Hell must with their Grave  
Set open its Mouth, and Them as sure receive.   

179.  
Psyche delivered of that monstrous Birth  
Now finds her Girdle fit and easy grown,  
Affording room for all the Train of Mirth,  
With which her Bosom now was overflown.  
She viewed the Newborn Thing, and viewing smiled  
Not out of love, but hate unto the Child.   

180.  
As one from blind Cimmeria newly come,  
Beyond his own ambition, into  
Arabia's blessed Fields, and finding room  
Both for his eyes and joys, doth wondering go  
Over those spicely Paths, and thinks that he  
Doth now no less begin to live, then see.   

181.  
So overjoyed she admired now  
The glorious Day new risen in her Breast,  
Where carnal Clouds before would not allow  
A constant beam to dwell; but overcast  
Her so, that labouring she had much ado  
To spy her Heaven, and see which way to go.   

182.  
For now her soul was clearer than the face  
Of fair Aurora washed in Eastern streams:  
Unspotted Thoughts flocked in to take their place  
In her pure Heart, which now a Garden seems  
Of Lilies planted on warm Beds of Snow,  
Through which Gods Spirit doth gales of Odours blow.   

183.  
All Sublunary Sweets she has forgot,  
Nor thinks this bitter World can breed such things.  
All Beauties to her Eye are but one Blot:  
The Bees to her are nothing else but stings:  
All Loves are Hate; all Dalliance, Vexation;  
All Blandishments, but Poison in the Fashion.   

184.  
For by this Girdle she his Prisoner is  
In whose alone she reads the Name of Love;  
And in the Languishments of softest Bliss,  
By dainty Torments doth her patience prove,  
Crying at every sigh, O Jesus when  
Shall I have lived this Death, and Life begin!   

185.  
What further business have I here below  
With flesh and Blood, whose joys I relish not!  
Who is the Conqueror of my Heart, but thou?  
And since thy love this Victory hath got,  
Why must thy Captive not permitted be  
To wait on thy triumphant Coach, and thee?   

186.  
Though for thy Royal Scorn I fitting be,  
Yet why wilt thou thine own Choice disallow?  
If I had still neglected been by thee,  
This Body had not seemed my Dungeon now:  
But why's this taste of Heaven unto me deigned,  
If still to this dull Earth I must be chained?   

187.  
O that some courteous Dove to me would lend  
Its feathered oars, that I my soul might row  
Unto the Port of my Desires, and blend  
It with the Tide of Bliss which there doth flow!  
I never thought that Earth so low did lie,  
Or that the heavens till now were half so high.   

188.  
O why art thou so lovely, if poor I  
Must still live Exile from thy dearest sight!  
This Token, Jesus, makes me louder cry  
For thee thyself, who art more sweet and bright:  
O what will thy Supreme Embraces be,  
If this small Cincture thus has ravished me.   

189.  
I yield, I yield, great Lord: Why must thy Dart  
Be always killing Me, yet never slay  
My ever-dying still-surviving Heart!  
Why must thy Flames which on my Bosom prey,  
Still burn, but not consume; O why must I  
Too, be no Mortal here, but with them vie?   

190.  
O Absence, never was there Present Hell  
So true as thou unto its dismal Name!  
O cruel Hope, which only dost reveal  
A tempting glimpse of light, but hidest the Fame;  
That so the sweetly-mocked Eye may be  
Assured by that short sight, she does not see.   

191.  
Intolerable Joys why smart you so,  
Pricking on my impatient Desires!  
O Sighs, what means your Breath my Flames to blow!  
O Tears, why must your Waters quench my Fires!  
Dear Girdle help Me: If thou shouldst be slack,  
Soon would my overburdened Heartstrings crack.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO IU. The Rebellion.  
ARGUMENT.  

Galled with severe Devotions constant Yoke  
The Senses, and the Passions rebel:  
Having the Spirit of Pride for General took,  
By fair-tongued Treason they with Psyche deal.  
Reason's surprised and into Prison thrown.  
The Will revolts, and Psyche's left alone.   

1.  
PRosperity, how false art thou unto  
Thy blessed Name, who with a comely Cheat  
Unwary Hearts so potently dost woo  
That thine all-rotten Bottom they forget,  
And think thy Foot sure on a Rock doth stand,  
Whilst thy Foundation is the fruitless sand.   

2.  
The Day which smiled so briskly in the Morn  
And left no frown in all the face of Heaven,  
E'er night hath oft been made the Prey and Scorn  
〈◊〉 swarthy Clouds, so furiously driven,  
That Phebu's stoutest help was all in vain  
When he the gaudy sky strove to maintain.   

3.  
The Sea, in looks demure, and pleasant dress,  
Hath often bid the Mariner been bold:  
When strait an unsuspected storm doth press  
Through the lamenting Air, till having rolled  
Into a foaming Mount the monstrous Deep,  
In brine it buries the presumptuous ship.   

4.  
Eternal Change doth wheel all Heaven about:  
What Patent then can seal Security  
To things below? How doth proud Fortune flout  
The gayest Confidence which foolish We  
Are not afraid to build: but vainly trust  
Our Hopes are firm, whilst we ourselves are Dust.   

5.  
Weak Dust, on which the least Wind domineers  
Which through this Clime of mortal Life doth blow:  
A life, which if not fortified by Fears  
And wise suspicions, to all storms doth bow:  
A life so treacherous in its friendliest Hue,  
That Saints themselves have found its falsensse true.   

6.  
Whilst Psyche feasteth her luxuriant Heart  
With amorous Tortures, and does day by day  
Riot and surfeit in delicious smart,  
Which relish sweeter to her soul than they,  
Who both their late and early studies spent  
To cherish Her with Natural Content.   

7.  
A knot of Friends with Her together born,  
And under one soft Roof of the same skin  
Tenderly nourished, stomached much the scorn  
She heaped on them, who thought their only sin  
Was too much love to her; a Crime which might  
More pardon challenge than Revenge invite.   

8.  
'Tis true, said they, that we her servants be:  
And yet as truly are her sisters too:  
Had our original Seniorite  
It's native privilege, We all should go  
Before, and she the Youngling, come behind:  
Sure she should not have found Us so unkind.   

9  
But now she has chanced to get the upper Hand,  
She makes Us feel it in her Tyranny.  
So Upstarts use to do where they command,  
Being to weak to wield their Royalty.  
Like paltry Currents, which swollen high, do pour  
More Rage than sober streams about the shore.   

10.  
We must not eat, nor drink, nor sleep, nor play,  
But when she lists: and o how seldom's that!  
Great business she pretends both night and day,  
Employed about nor We nor She knows what.  
It tickles Her, but hard on Us doth grate,  
She calls it Love, but we all find it Hate,   

11.  
Yet be it what it will, what's that to Us  
Who are not bound Her humours to fulfil  
With our own Ruin? Since Her stomach thus  
Is wild and rampant, why should we sit still  
With desperate Patience, till we be undone?  
What need we fear Her? We are Five to One.   

12.  
As when th' imprisoned Fire in earth below  
Vexed with those straits, begins to move and swell,  
Its dungeon first it shakes, than forth doth blow  
Its full-mouthed indignation, and fill  
The World with Tumult, tearing down the Trees,  
Dismounting Mountains, ploughing up the Seas:   

13.  
So did their sullen murmur gather strength  
Still day by day, by mutinous degrees,  
Boiling to such impatience, that at length  
By flat Rebellion they resolve to ease  
Their overcharged stomaches; and one day  
All met at Council, thus their Griefs display:   

14.  
'Twas in an upper Chamber, dark and close,  
Arched with thin Ivory: For their common seat  
A white and soft and living Counch they chose,  
And there the 
* The Common Sense,  Master of the House entreat  
To hear their public Case. Content, said he,  
'Tis just I to my Friends should friendly be.   

15.  
The large Supplies of all my store I owe  
To your unwearied Care and Pains, which bring  
Plenty of all Varieties that grow  
In Heaven, or Earth, or Sea: the wealthiest King  
Could not outvie that furniture which You  
To crown my Table daily did allow.   

16.  
But now, alas, I see my Tribut's thin:  
Some Lazy sullen melancholic things  
Do now and then come hither sneaking in;  
But all your brisk and cheerly Offerings  
Are intercepted; and 'tis well that you  
Begin, else I had been the Plaintiff now.   

17.  
They all were glad to hear their Censor speak  
In their own discontented Dialect:  
But strait their fond Ambitions did awake  
A strife who should begin: In high neglect  
Of all her Sisters, 
* The Sense of Seeing  Opsis knits her brows  
And darts of indignation on them throws.   

18.  
Who is your Queen but I, who sit, said she,  
Exalted high upon my double Throne,  
Whilst all your Motions regulated be  
By my Imperial Direction:  
Blind Fools, what could you do, were't not for Me,  
In setting on our brave Conspiracy?   

19  
That proud Word from her Mouth no sooner flew,  
But 
* Of Smelling.  Osphresis in scorn did snuff it up:  
Enraged 
† Of Tasting  Geusis bit her lips, which grew  
So big with boiling wrath, she scarce could stop  
Her Tongue from railing Vengeance: 
* Of Hearing.  Acoe  
Pricked up her ears, and looked as big as she.   

20.  
But ireful 
† Of Touching  Haphe less could rule her pride,  
Imperious Dame, cried she, how darest thou  
Who in two little tender Cells are tied,  
Such saucy scorn on all thy Sisters throw?  
Dost thou not plainly see my Empire spread  
Through all the Body, even from Foot to Head?   

21.  
Do I not domineer in and about  
Thy total self? would not this single Nail  
Sufficient be to tear your Queenship out  
From both your Thrones? Alas, should I assail  
Thee with two wretched Motes, they would suffice  
To damp that Day in which thou prid'st thine Eyes,   

22.  
Thus is Rebellion always Quarrelsome  
Even with itself. Had not their Judge made haste  
To stifle their Contention in the womb,  
Flat War had been brought forth: But in he cast  
His peremptory Sentence: Hold, said He,  
I in my House must have you all agree.   

23.  
This is the Main, how small so e'er it seems,:  
Whether all your several winding Courses tend:  
Here do you pour in your concurrent streams,  
And in this Sea of Sense your Rivers blend:  
A Sea where never storm arose as yet,  
far be it then, I now should suffer it.   

24.  
I love you All, and if it could but be,  
Would wish that every One might be supreme.  
'Tis true what noble Haphe says, and she  
Most like myself doth Universal seem:  
Yet she is of a courser mixture, and  
As well as highest, does the lowest stand.   

25.  
But gallant Opsis sprightful is, and bright,  
The glass or Heaven above, and Heaven below.  
Her seats completely highest, and the Right  
Of her Precedency her Beams do show.  
She's all your Candle, and before must go:  
Even your own Interest requires it so.   

26.  
Condemned Haphe to this Sentence paid  
Scornful obedience, vowing not to speak  
At all, or be the last. But strait arrayed  
In joyous Aspect, Opsis did awak  
Her richest sweets, to let her sisters see  
What cause she had to scorn their Poverty.   

27.  
Yet what means Joy to smile in these mine Eyes  
Said she, so long as Psyche Domineers  
And makes them worse than Blind? Could it suffice  
Her now and then to set abroach my Tears,  
'Twere tolerable: but alas poor I  
Must in my sorrows always steeping lie.   

28.  
The Ocean with less Constancy doth throw  
Its Tide of Salt upon the troubled shore,  
Than from my Springs the streams are forced to flow  
And down my scalded Cheeks their Billows pour.  
O why must here be everlasting Brine,  
Whilst all Tides else do know an Ebb but mine!   

29.  
Yet were these Floods found needful to make clean  
Mine Eyes and me, I would not think them dear:  
But what Crime stains Us? Is't that we have seen  
All Beauties round about the Hemispheer?  
What were We made for else? Alas that we  
For our Creation's End must guilty be.   

30.  
More justly Psyche Articles might draw  
Against that God on whom she fawneth so.  
Is't not by His irrefragable Law,  
That through all Visibility we go?  
Bold Hypocrite who her own faults doth thus  
Revenge upon her God by torturing Us.   

31.  
Are not the Eyes those universal Glasses  
In which the World doth fairly copied lie?  
Man for a Microcosm by favour passes,  
But in a blind and dusky Mystery:  
I am the only faithful Mirror, where  
All things in their true colours painted are.   

32.  
Nay Psyche too, although her mixture be  
Pure and spiritual, knows not how to hide  
Her subtle self from my Discovery:  
She by these Windows easily is descried,  
Whether she wakes or sleeps, or rests or moves,  
Whether she sighs or smiles, or hates or loves.   

33.  
Sure would proud she deign to observe how I  
Am framed and seated, she could not despise  
The manifest and secret Majesty  
Which doth both compass, and compose mine Eyes.  
But she is angry, and doth plainly prove  
That Hate is also blind, as well as Love.   

34.  
Were it not so, she might discern this Brow,  
The princely Arch which roofs my Habitation:  
In which as resolute Disdain doth grow  
As she can dart at it: This is the fashion  
Of the fair world above, whose radiant Eye  
The upper Orbs have arched with Majesty.   

35.  
Those double Doors, whose hinges are my Will,  
Both shut and open without pain and noise:  
Else could they not catch tender Sleep, which still  
Is coy and shy, and flies from every Voice.  
These are my East and West; My Day by these  
Doth rise and set, as often as I please.   

36.  
At either Gate a double Guard of Pikes  
With pressed attendance stands both night and day,  
Which gives admission unto those it likes,  
But to injurious Guests shuts up the way.  
Right trusty Hairs; whose faithful Fear, to Me  
Breeds no Dishonour, but Security.   

37.  
Full is my House of nimble Servants, who  
Their diligent selves in all my Business stretch,  
Which way soever I desire to go  
With sweet activity they thither reach.  
No Princes steeds with greater speed or ease  
Devour their way, than I am rolled by these.   

38.  
Six precious Curtains close embrace my Bed  
Where I in dainty state enshrined lie:  
The Adnate Tunicle is outmost spread  
Which doth protection to the rest supply,  
And in her bosom shroud both them and me  
From hasty Motions importunity.   

39  
The next, a Corneous Veil, both firm and bright;  
My natural Lantern, whose diaphanous side  
As it transmits', so it preserves the Light  
By which the Body and myself I guide.  
No Time can spend this Lamp, no boisterous storm  
Can puff it out, or breathe it any harm.   

40.  
The third of Grapes, soft polished Coat is made,  
Yet with a gentle Roughness lined within,  
Through which all kinds and tribes of Colours trade  
And traffic with the inner Crystalline:  
The doubtful skin of Polypus did ne'er  
Slide through such various Looks as sport it here.   

41.  
This opes a Casement to the Pupil, which  
My gaudy Iris round about doth dress  
With perfect beauties, shaming all those rich  
Streaks of the Heaven above, which can express  
Only the semi-glories of a Bow,  
Mine doth a fair and total Circle show.   

42.  
The four's that tender Membran which doth kiss  
And hug the tenderer Pupil: when the Light  
Looks with full curtsy on the Eye, than this  
Opens wide to meet and drink it in: when Night  
Doth draw her sable Curtains over Heaven,  
This doth the Pupil shrink into its Even,   

43.  
The fifth of Crystal is, soft, warm, and thin,  
Found no where but in my rich Treasury;  
This is that noblest Glass of Life, wherein  
Things living live again, and things which lie  
Dead every where beside, enlivened be,  
And trip about with brisk activity.   

44.  
The sixt's a Texture of so fine a thread  
That neat Arachne did the Spinster seem,  
Whose matchless Artifice so clear is read  
In every Line, that thence it takes its name:  
We call't Aranea, a Net whereby  
I catch the purest-winged Beams that fly.   

45.  
Besides, such precious Humours I contain  
As me adorn with richer purity,  
Than does the boundless jewell-paved Main  
Its Empress Thetis: She in all her Sea  
Is but of one salt-roy'led liquor Queen,  
But I of three, all thrice-refined and clean.   

46.  
That which does outmost smile, is Watery,  
The spotless Cover of a purer thing,  
For under it doth liquid Crystal lie  
Couched on a Bed almost as ravishing  
As its illustrious Self, a molten Bed  
Of gentle Glass, upon the bottom spread.   

47.  
And in the Mirror of this triple Spring  
All sorts of sprightful forms delight to play;  
The mystic shapes of every kind of Thing  
Close moulded in a soft and unseen Ray  
On Instant's posting wings do hither fly  
And dive into these Deeps of Purity.   

48.  
Who knows not that great Love take's from the Eye  
His Ammunition, Qaiver, Bow, and Darts,  
And wins by that soft-fierce Artillery  
His mighty Principality of Hearts!  
Had He himself had Eyes, what might He not  
Have done who has such power by others got?   

49.  
These my domestic Beauties are But see  
My outward equal Store: With that she bid  
Her Princely Train march forth, When instantly  
A silver Globe rolled in, embellished  
With gilded stars, which round about did turn,  
And wheel from Even through all the Night to Morn.   

50.  
This done: a dusky Veil she threw aside  
And through a roseal East let open the Day:  
The Sun got up, and as the Globe did glide,  
Sped into the West his Golden way:  
Where red and hot with his long journey, He  
Entered the cool Bath of th' Atlantic Sea.   

51.  
Then came the blustering Winds, & on their back  
Brought labouring Clouds: some poured out Hail and Snow,  
Some spit forth Lightning through a thundering Crack,  
Some with more peaceful showers of Rain did flow,  
Some dropped down monstrous Vermin, some a stood  
Of not-desired Corn, some squeezed out blood.   

52.  
But then the Spring came blooming in, arrayed  
With fragrant Green, whose sweet Embroidery  
Were Budds of Virgin smiles, which there displayed  
A sceen of living Joys, all echoed by  
Ten thousand Birds which perched on every Tree  
Tuned their soft Pipes to Nature's harmony.   

53.  
Yet underneath, with higher gallantry,  
The Peacock strutted, whose expanded Train  
Enammelled with gorgeous Majesty  
Did heavens bright Model represent again:  
Yet that Bowls winking Eyes could not express  
So full a Proof of Heaven, as flamed in these.   

54.  
Summer came next with her own Riches crowned  
A wreath of Flowers upon her goodly Head;  
Full sheaves of golden store did her surround  
And all her way with wholesome Plenty spread,  
Where as she went, no Tree but reached his At  
(For it was hot) to shade her Head from harm.   

55.  
Then followed Autumn, with her Bosom full  
Of every Fruit which either tempts the Eye  
Or charms the Taste: Here Wantonness might cull  
And weary grow: Here wide-mouthed Luxury  
Might gourmandise her fill, and with far more  
Ease her own Lust devour, than spend this store.   

56.  
At last came drooping Winter slowly on,  
For Frost hung heavy on his heels; the Year  
Looked old and pale in him, and almost gone.  
He quaked and shivered through his triple Fur,  
For still what way soever He did creep  
He's to the knees in Snow at every step.   

57  
For snow was all things now: and in this White,  
The wanton World which all this while made sport  
In Autumus, Summer, and in Spring's delight,  
Must (girded up by Ice) do penance for't.  
This cold chaste straitlaced Garb will best repel  
The Faults which those hot Seasons taught to swell   

58.  
This Pageant being past: up leaped upon  
The stage a City, whose high-lifted Head  
Threatened the Clouds with interruption:  
What Art was here to Riches married!  
How thick the Marble Spires and Towers stood  
Shading the Houses with a stoney Wood;   

59  
But like an awful Crown to all the rest  
The Prince's Palace mounted fair and high  
Proclaimed by its double gilded Crest  
It's own and its great Owners Majesty:  
Yet was this outward Pomp but a course skin  
To those rare Wonders which did shine within,   

60.  
here was the Jewell-house, where naked lay  
Such store of Gems as might enrich the Sea:  
There in the Wardrobe, in well-wrought array  
Their sparkling brethren were taught to be  
The clothing of those clothes Embroiderers had  
To pride the back of scornful Courtship made.   

61.  
Here stood the Chequer, that great Temple where  
The Worlds dear Idol in huge heaps did lie:  
There was a Storehouse of the choice and rare  
Productions found by Optics Industry:  
The school of Admiration, and the shop  
Of Miracles in Glasses treasured up.   

62.  
Here Men and Beasts and Birds were all of kin,  
Being extracted from one common Womb,  
Of the brave Proconnesian Marble Mine:  
And where the Statuary wanted room,  
The Painters livelier Lies did woo the Sight  
To sport in his less cumbersome Delight.   

63.  
But in the Presence-chambers Ocean met  
The Confluence of every royal thing:  
A golden Throne on silver floor was set,  
Which took new lustre from the gorgeous King,  
Who with his glittering Court surrounded was  
As Phoebus with the rays of his own face.   

64.  
The Queen, both of his Kingdom and his Heart,  
Beauties bright Triumph showed at his right Hand,  
And did her sweet exuberance impart  
Unto that maiden Circle which did stand  
To wait and gaze on her, whose goodly Face  
Was Wonders fairer Heaven, and Pleasure's Glass.   

65.  
When Opsis by this pompous sight had drawn  
Admiring smiles from her Spectators: I  
A thousand such, said she, could soon have shown,  
Had I ripped up my total Treasury.  
And these those Offerings are my scorned Eyes  
To Psyche gave, who them and me defies.   

66.  
Unto some blurred Prayer-book she ties  
My spotless sight with endless slavery:  
Or makes me stare so long upon the skies  
That with dull seeing I forget to see.  
She some pretence or other still doth find  
In mere devotion to make me blind   

67.  
The other Sun when He has looked his Day,  
Can go to bed and rest himself in Night:  
But I, forsooth, at Even must go to Pray,  
And watch her Candle till the Morning light.  
Some comfort 'twere if I might but obtain  
By all those Prayers, relief for my own pain.   

68  
But since nor She, nor Heaven will Pity take,  
What could oppressed, dying Opsis do  
But force her final gasping Sighs to break  
Into these just Complaints, great Sir, to you?  
To which may you be deaf, if I appear  
A Rebel still, and not Defendant here,   

69.  
She ending thus, impatient Acoe  
Who thought her Sister's speech was much to long,  
Stepped back unto their common Treasury  
Kept by 
* The Memory  Anamnesis, (where lay the Throng  
Of all their wealth) and bade her ready make  
Her richest Train, whilst She its Prologue spoke.   

70.  
Hear Me, said She; and be this my reward  
For hearing all things else: though many a Sound  
Upon mine Ears hath most unkindly jarred  
Yet courteous entertainment still it found:  
The like I crave; and do not you repine,  
The first was Opsi's place, the next is mine.   

71.  
My House is secret; cautious winding ways  
And privy Galleries lead into it:  
By which abstruse state I my fame do raise  
Higher than if my palace open were set.  
Thus Jewels dwell within the cavity  
Of Mother-Perl, and thus dwells Acoe.   

72.  
The outward Room's oblique, that violent Sounds  
May manners learn, and not rush in too fast;  
And narrow too, so to protect my Bounds  
Which by no stealing Uermin must be passed  
Yet if they venture, I have lime-twiggs there  
To make them sure, tenacious Wax and Hair.   

73.  
And at this Chambers end doth stand my Drum  
Made of a Parchment soft and thin and dry,  
And ready corded. But the second Room  
Is of my active Tools the Treasury:  
My Hammers and my Anvils place is there,  
By which I Forge all sounds I please to hear.   

74.  
By them three little busy Bones do lie,  
Which when my Drum is beat, articulate  
Each breeding Noise and Voice which that way fly,  
Just as the Teeth at prattling Lingua's Gate.  
Indeed she only would be thought to make  
The shapes of Words, but Acoe too can speak.   

75.  
Behind these two, a Third is built, whose frame  
So busy is, and dubious, and full  
Of Labyrinths, that thence it takes its Name:  
Six Semicircles there hook in and pull  
The Sound to every corner, that it may  
Grow well acquainted ere it pass away.   

76.  
Next unto that, my most reserved Cell  
Wreaths up its pliant self in privacy:  
Have you not seen the Periwinkle shell  
Rolled up about itself? Such folds has my  
Dark Closet: whence I by a private slit  
To thee, grave Censor, all my News transmit.   

77.  
If Psyche would but well consider this,  
Sure she would deign me some respect: Yet I  
Want not an ample Troop of Witnesses  
To prove my Worth, With that she turned her Eye,  
When straightway in a decent equipage  
Her train Anamnesis brought on the stage.   

78.  
A sudden Grove sprung up, and every Tree  
Impeopled was with Birds of softest throats;  
With Boughs Qaires multiplied, and Melody  
As various was, as were the singer's Notes,  
Till Philomel's diviner Anthems sound  
The rest in a full sea of Music drowned.   

79.  
Beneath, a silver River stole, and by  
Its gentle murmur did all Ears allure:  
Amidst whose streams, a swan, content to die,  
And at that price their further Joys procure,  
Tuned her long Pipe to such an height, that she  
Sung out her soul in her own Elegy.   

80.  
Then came two golden Orators, the One  
From Greece, from Rome the other, to lament  
Her dainty Death: Demosthenes began,  
And raped the Hearers with such full content,  
That had not Tully stretched his Tongue that day,  
With Rhetorics honour Greece had gone away.   

81.  
But Tubal rushed in: and Room, said He,  
For my prerogative who first did teach  
Scholars both deaf and dumb, such Harmony  
As overtopped shortwinded Nature's reach:  
Rude things, the Hammer and the Anvil I  
Learned how to Forge soul-charming Melody.   

82.  
Behind Him slowed in delicious throngs.  
Of learned Instruments: the Harp, the Lute,  
The Organ (moderator of all Songs)  
The Viol, Cymbal, Sackbut, Cornet, Flute,  
The Harpsichon, Theorboe, and Bandore,  
The galiant Trumpet, and a thousand more.   

83.  
As they at this mute show stood wondering,  
In came a goodly Man with graceful pace:  
His Robe and Crown did plainly speak him King;  
But his sweet Art betrayed what Prince he was.  
Who snatching up the Harp, did it awake,  
And made it for its silent Brethren speak.   

84.  
As to the Strings he whispered with his Finger,  
They all told tales, and with conspiring Noise  
Professed freely, This is Israel's Singer.  
Discovered thus, He joined with them his voice,  
And as he sung, again the heavenly Bowl  
Which Opsis thither brought, began to roll.   

85.  
But he leaped into it, and in the Spheres  
Withdrew himself. When lo an angry Sea  
Comes foaming in, and on its proud waves bears  
In dreadful triumph a wracked Man: but he  
Caught up the Harp; a slender Bark, indeed,  
Could Musics powers not the storm's exceed.   

86.  
No sooner borrowed He the strings soft Cry,  
But at the gentle Call a Dolphin came,  
Which took him on his back and bore him high  
Above the Wrath of the deluded stream.  
Arion strait with all his fingers strove  
To pay his fare and quit the Fish's love.   

87.  
The Waves grew calm and smiled in his face,  
The cheerly Nymphs looked up, and joyed to hear  
Such charming Accents in that churlish place  
Where only Tempests used to beat their Ear:  
The Winds came stealing close about Him, and  
Catched every Note that dropped from his Hand.   

88  
The courteous Dolphin, who did all this while  
Deeper in Pleasure swim than in the Sea,  
And all the labour of his way beguile  
By the Harp's sweet Discourse; was grieved to see  
The period of his journey now at hand,  
And wished that he might with Arion land.   

89.  
But on the shore a singing Troop appeared,  
Where Pindar first took up a Lute and played;  
All Ears were ravished which his Numbers heard,  
And had not Flaccus, though at first afraid,  
Fired by a furious bravery stretched his skill,  
Pindar had been sole Lord of Lyrics still.   

90.  
Above upon a Mountain Homer sat,  
And to a Trumpet tuned his nobler Lays:  
Which Fame, who thither fluttered, having got,  
Through all the wondering World she them displays;  
Till princely Maro with an equal strain  
Embraved his voice, and echoed them again.   

91.  
Which at the second Bound reflected be  
By Tasso's Muse, but in an holier Tune:  
The Muse which taught her sober Tuscanie  
The Greek and Roman Poetry to prune,  
And rescued Godfree from Oblivion,  
As he from Pagan Hands had Salem done.   

92.  
(Not far from whom, though in a lower clime,  
Yet with a goodly Train doth Colin sweep:  
Though manacled in thick and peevish Rhyme,  
A decent pace his painful Verse doth keep.  
Well limned and featured is his mystic Queen,  
Yet, being masked, her beauties less are seen.)   

93.  
But o, how low all these do bow before  
Nazianzum's, and the World's immortal Glory,  
Him, whose Heav'n-tuned soul did sweetly soar  
Unto the top of every stage and story  
Of Poetry; through which, as he did pass,  
He all the Muses made Urania's.   

94.  
And by this soul-attracting Pattern, Thou,  
My only worthy self, thy Songs didst frame:  
Witness those polished Temple-Steps, which now  
Whether thou wilt or no, this Truth proclaim,  
And, spite of all thy Travels, make't appear  
Th' art more in England, than when thou wert here.   

95.  
More unto Others; but not so to Me  
Of old acquainted with thy secret worth:  
What half-lost I endure for want of Thee  
The World will read in this misshapen Birth:  
Fair had my Psyche been, had she at first  
By thy kinde-censuring hand been dressed and nursed.   

96.  
Some distance thence, in floury wanton Groves  
Luxurious Amoroso's sat, who by  
The gentle key of Sports and Smiles and Loves  
Did regulate their thrilling Melody.  
Nimble Theocritus and Naso were  
The chief: but thousands more beside were there.   

97.  
Whose Consort to complete, aforehand came  
Marino's Genius, with a voice so high,  
That strait the world rung with Adonis' name  
Unhappy man and Choice! o what would thy  
Brave Muse have done in such a Theme as mine,  
Which makes Profaneness almost seem Divine!   

98.  
These apparitions sweetly passing by  
This vocal Honey, and much more than this,  
Cried Acoe, to solace Psyche I  
Would gladly drop: but she so sullen is,  
That what doth make Rocks move, and Tempests rest,  
In foul Disdain she in my face doth cast.   

99  
In hideous sighs she smothers up my Ears,  
And with lank hollow Groans still diets Me.  
Lived I a Subject in the Realm of Fears  
Where raving Desperations chained be,  
I would not murmur if the Monsters there  
Did tender me with yelling Torments tear.   

100  
But must proud Psyche here a Fury be  
In spite of all the sweetest sweets I throw  
Thick in her way? must her fell Tyranny  
Such uncontrolled Injustice on Us throw?  
For bid it righteous Sir, and lend some aid  
Before to ruin We be all betrayed.   

101.  
The next place Ospheresis challenged as due  
Unto her fair and eminent situation:  
Yet stepping up into more open View,  
She first her Countenance, than her speech did fashion,  
Seeking for both no other Ornament,  
But wrinkles of disdainful Discontent.   

102.  
My Wrongs, said she, although I third must speak  
Too well deserved to have been told the first.  
You all know where I dwell; my House doth make  
No gaudy show, indeed, yet at the worst  
Dame Acoe, its structure is as fair  
As your, however young, yet, wrinkled Eare.   

103.  
It like some Alabaster Prop sustains  
The foreheads load, (yet doth its firmness owe  
Unto no Basis:) It within contains  
Two Galleries, about whose Walls do grow  
Quick watchful Hairs, which brush the entering Air  
That to my Presence it may come more fair.   

104.  
In these opens a Backdoor whereby  
I send cool gales to fan and cheer the Heart:  
But by the Mammillar Processions I  
Embrace the Pleasures which my Sweets impart  
And then through them the Soul of odours strain  
And with pure vigorous Spirits befriend the Brain.   

105.  
What kind of tribute I was wont to yield  
Coy Psyche, let Anamnesis confess.  
She had no sooner spoke, but a fair Field  
Smiled upon the Stage, whose youthful Dress  
Did all that Summer represent, and more,  
Which Opsis had displayed there before.   

106.  
Thick Beds of Majoram, of Thyme, of Mirth,  
Of Primroses, Violets, and Rosemary,  
Of Saffron, Marigolds, and Lavender,  
Of julie-flowers, Flower-gentles, Peony,  
Of Hyssop, Balm, and Sage, of Roses, Lilies,  
Of Honey succkles, and of Daffodils.   

107.  
These were beset with many a spicy Tree,  
Sweetly embraced by the Eglantine,  
Who joying in their fragrant Company  
Among their Odours did his own entwine.  
And here the ravished Senses asked their Eyes  
Whither this were Arabia or Paradise.   

108.  
Their Eyes in wonder looking up, espied  
Upon a Cedar what more raped their sight,  
A Phoenix Tomb and Cradle dignified  
With richer sweets than was the Garden dight.  
The flames rose up to kill and to revive  
The Bird which sweetly teacheth Death to live.   

109.  
And from the odorous Cloud which rolled there  
They smelled such sprightful powers of quickening Joy  
That now they wonder not a Bird should dare  
To die a death which could such life display.  
And if the smoke alone, say they, can stream  
With such refreshment, o what is the flame!   

110.  
Their ecstasy contented O sphresis  
More than the sweets did them: And why, crid She,  
Must I who pay such dainty rent as this,  
By most ingrateful Psyche tortured be?  
If she would slay Me quite, there were an end:  
But cruel She my Murder does extend.   

111.  
For on the Rack She holds Me night and day  
And ties Me Prisoner to a Dead Man's Skull,  
On which whilst She doth rest her Hands to pray,  
The stink of Death doth both my Nostrils fill;  
Worse is my State than theirs who buried lie  
In death, and smell not the Graves Misery.   

112.  
If We must die, 'tis reason We by some  
Worthy Adventure merit that our Death:  
Impartial Sir, what better can become  
Your injured Senses, than by generous Wrath  
To show their Sensibility belongs  
As well's to all things else, to their own Wrongs?   

113.  
Geusis, whose mouth before stood ready open,  
Rejoiced to hear her Sister end her speech.  
And now, said she, my Tongue, enjoy thy scope,  
And in thine own defence thy powers stretch.  
Psyche regards not what I say: but you  
Grave Judge will just Apologies allow.   

114.  
Then since 'tis proved the fashion to display  
The several Beauties of our Habitation,  
My words shall travel in this beaten Way:  
Though for my House, it might be Commendation  
Sufficient, what the whole world doth express  
By its ambition its Door to kiss.   

115.  
That Door is of two leaves, two Roses leaves,  
Whose tenderness the in ward Guard supplies,  
A strong and double Guard, which there receives  
With sharp examination, and tries  
The burliest Guests: which, if it finds them rude,  
It sends into my Mill to be subdued.   

116.  
There are they pressed, and growned, and gentle made  
And so upon my ruby Table set:  
Where, with a Canopy of Purple spread  
Over my Head, Princelike alone I eat;  
And dining with the Cream of all the Feast  
I unto my Attendants leave the rest.   

117.  
They, in the Kitchen meeting at the Fire,  
Sat down and pick what Pieces like them best:  
Where every One stuffing his own Desire,  
Grows fat and merry: Then the Scraps they cast  
Into the sink, which by a private spout  
Behind the House itself does empty out.   

118.  
Nor has Anamnesis a thinner show  
Of Rarities which unto me belong  
Than those my Sister's Pride displayed to you.  
Consult your Eyes on that delicious throng  
She ushers in: If any thing does want,  
Say then, the World's, and not my store is scant.   

119.  
Straight-way a golden Table marched in  
All sweeting under a far richer Feast:  
A Feast which Heliogabalus might win  
To loathe his Empire's Board, and here be Guest.  
A Feast whose strange Variety and store  
Dared call great Solomon's Provision Poor.   

120.  
The Vanguard ranked by a skilful Hand  
Was fruitful Summer fairly dished and dressed:  
For Apples, Pears and Plums in order stand,  
Choice Quinces, Wardens, Figgs, Dates, Grapes, the best  
Pomgranats, Citrons, Oranges, and Cherries,  
Apricocks, Almonds, Straw-Rasp-Mirtle-berries.   

121.  
Besides selected Herbs, and Flowers, which might  
Build up the Board with Salads Pageantry,  
And send a challenge to the Appetite  
From those stout Troops which now were marching nigh:  
This was the second ranged Squadron, whither  
All Nations of the Air were flocked together.   

122.  
The Pheasant, Partridge, Plover, Bustard, Quail,  
The Wood cock, Capon, Cygnet, Chicken, Dove,  
The Snipe, Lark, Godwit, Turkey, Peacock, Teal,  
With thousand winged Dainties, which might move  
Even Luxury herself, the Deities  
Now plain and course Ambrosia to despise.   

123.  
Next these, a large Brigade was marshelled,  
The brawny Boar did in the Front appear,  
And then the Bull, the Veal, the Goat, the Kid,  
The Sheep, the Lamb, the Coney and the Hare,  
The Hart, and every wholesome thing that feeds  
Upon the Hills, the Valleys or the Meads.   

124.  
But from the Sea and Rivers, in the Rear,  
A finny Ocean on the Board did stream,  
The Smelled, the Perch, the Ruff, the Roche, the Dare,  
The Carp, Pike, Tench, Lump, Gurnet, Hearing, Bream,  
The Mullet, Baible, Codfish, Conger, Trout,  
Plaise, Salmon, Lamprey, Sturgeon, Sole, Elepout.   

125.  
The Turbet, Cuttle, Flounder, Mackerill,  
The Lobster, Oyster, and all kind of Fishes  
Which Lusts soft Fuel treasure in their shell;  
Had left their troubled Deeps to swim in Dishes.  
Earth never yet such store of Fish could show  
But when the Flood on it the Sea did spew.   

126.  
But all this while the sparkling Bowls were crowned  
With living Nectar round about the Table:  
Such precious Liquor never yet was found  
To drop from Poet's Brain, a Liquor able  
To make th' Egyptian Queen disdain her Cup  
In which her liquid Gem did courther Lip.   

127.  
For the Reserve, a Ladies dainty Hand,  
Th' ambitious Cater of her own Delight,  
Had curiously raised an antic Band  
Of Banquet Powers, in which the wanton Might  
Of confectory Art endeavoured how  
To charm all Tastes to their sweet Overthrow.   

128.  
These having feasted the Spectators Eyes,  
Geusis but nods, and all was ta'en away.  
And is this Homage to be scorned, she cries,  
Which copious I alone to Psyche pay?  
Must the dry Supper of the simple Lamb  
Of which she talks so much, these Dainties shame?   

129.  
These Dainties whose soft but victorious Bait  
Hath many a sturdy Stoic captive led:  
And with whose various precious Deceit  
The liquorish World aspireth to be fed,  
Though crude Distempers, Surfeits, Sickness, Pain,  
And immature Death be its dreadful Train.   

130.  
Must I be fed with Hope? Or what is more  
Jejune than that, vile Roots, and course dry Bread?  
Must I be ravished from my natural store  
Of sprightful Wines, and forced to drink the dead  
Could puddle Water, or the Tears which from  
Her briny Springs to scald my Mouth do come?   

131.  
Must I endure my woeful Bellies cry,  
And of self-murder guilty prove; whilst she  
Labours her peevish self to Mortify  
Without the least remorse of killing Me?  
Must I be patient till my starved lank skin  
Proves a white funeral sheet to wrap Me in?   

132.  
Though Justice, righteous Sir, might you persuade  
To lend aid to our common Mutiny,  
Yet Pity too on Geusi's part doth plead  
For necessary succoure'r I die.  
O had these Teeth their Will. how they would tear  
Psyche, and their own Wrongs revenge on Her!   

133.  
She closing here her Lips, and champing them,  
Even in her Silence still spoke Spite and Rage.  
When after a long pause proud Haphe came  
And showed her sullen face upon the Stage.  
With mute Disdain she did her Preface make,  
And having looked Contempt, Contempt she spoke.   

134.  
'Tis well you'll deign me leave to be the last:  
Yet when I pray, proud Sisters when would you  
Have felt those wrongs of yours, had I not passed  
Through all your Lodgings and informed you how!  
'Tis by my touch alone that you perceive  
What Object does delight, and what does grieve.   

135.  
You to your proper Cells confined are,  
And those too stand in my Dominions,  
Whose limits are extended near and far  
Through flesh and Blood and Skin: indeed some Bones  
Are obstinate; but to thy teeth I tell  
Thee Geusis, they my power sometimes do feel.   

136.  
What hast Anamnesis? Yet I'm contented,  
Bless their Eyes with my Treasures. At the Word  
She on the Scene her Tactile Sweets presented:  
With curious Ermines stately Mantles furred,  
Illustrious Robes of Satin and of Silk,  
And wanton Lawns more soft and white than milk.   

137.  
Delicious Beds of Cygnets purest Down,  
Cushions of Roses and of Violets,  
Baths of perfumed Oil, Foot-paths thick strown  
With budding Summers undefloured Sweets.  
Stoves which could Autumn of cold Winter make,  
Fountains, in Autumn to bring Winter back:   

138.  
Soft Tickle, Court, Kisses, Dalliance,  
Secret Embraces, which I must not tell:  
For all the Company at their first glance  
Started and turned from the bold Spectacle.  
In good time, Haphe cried, is't shame to see  
What All do covet to enjoy with Me?   

139.  
Yet though this feeling and substantial Joy  
I can to Psyche yield, ingrateful She  
Starts more than you, and barbarously coy  
Makes War upon my solid Love, and Me.  
The Clownish Rock thus doth in pieces dash  
The Streams which gently comes its sides to wash.   

140.  
On the cold ground whole Nights she makes Me lie,  
There to corrupt my flesh, and suck Diseases,  
And measure out my Grave before I die:  
Some cloth of Hemp or Hair, or what she pleases,  
Must those Furs place usurp: I never do  
Peep out of doors, yet Pilgrim-like must go.   

141.  
With churlish strokes upon my tender Breast  
As on some Anvil she does daily beat,  
And for her Hammer snatches mine own Fist.  
She scorns, grave Sir, the service of my Feet,  
And, dwelling always on my wearied Knee,  
Remorseless Tyrant, Iames herself and Me.   

142.  
And though my tedious Soreness now be spread  
About Me round, she still regardless goes;  
And will go on, till Force her spite forbid.  
This has confederated Me with those  
My injured Sisters, all resolved to try  
The strength ofRight, against her Tyranny.   

143.  
The Plaintiffs thus their several Cases spread  
Open before their Common Censor: He  
With serious Look shaking his thoughtful Head  
Allowed some pause unto his Gravity.  
At length he cried, The Matter's foul I see,  
And doth include with Yours my Injury.   

144.  
Your Resolution's Just and Noble too:  
Only be sure you never disagree,  
Lest you by partial Jealousy undo  
The Nerves and Joints of your conspiracy.  
An Army once grown mutinous, does yield  
Before the Fight, unto its Foes the Field.   

145.  
But more Confederates were not amiss  
The casier to dispatch your great Design:  
About the Heart a lusty Troop their is  
Which, well I know, will in your Plot combine:  
My Sister Fancy is the trustiest Friend  
Whom with the Business We can thither send.   

146.  
She all this while behind them sat, and as  
Their several Complaints and shows came out,  
Straight caught them Prisoners in her Crystal Glass,  
And then their figures in her sampler wrought:  
She needed no Instructions what to say,  
But being asked to go, she flies away.   

147.  
For mounted on the nimble Wings of Thought  
She straight arrived at the designed Place,  
Where, in the Lodgings scattered round about  
The Court of Psyche, she unveils her face.  
The Passions flocked to Kiss her, and to know  
Whither from abroad she any News could show.   

148.  
The News is this, said she, and and instantly  
In fine aerial Figures did present  
All that was spoke, or she wed, or plotted by  
The angry Senses; and for what intent  
She thither posted. They awhile amazed,  
Upon the guileful Apparition gazed,   

149.  
Then taking fire, and being unable to  
Bridle their flames, they belched their fury out:  
Surely, said they, this Psyche will undo  
Her trustiest Friends: We see'twas not for nought  
That We ourselves complained; 'tis certain now  
She means to rage, and open Tyrant grow.   

150.  
If their great distance cannot Them remove  
From her Injustice, than no wonder We  
Who live more in her reach, so often prove  
The Prey whereon she feasts her Cruelty.  
We like the Plot against our common Foe,  
We think it just to join; and tell them so.   

151.  
Let them be sure to watch their ports without,  
And leave the business within for Us:  
We are not now to learn how to be stout  
And stomachful and rude and mutinous.  
Fancy smiled, and returned, glad to see  
Success so quickly crown her Embassy.   

152.  
Whose Issue when she to the Senses told,  
They all would in Devotion needs blaspheme,  
Paying loud thanks to Heaven which did behold  
Their Wrongs, & moved these friends to succour them.  
And now with traitorous expectation swelled  
They wait to see the Passions take the Field.   

153.  
But Hope, Love, Hatred, Anger, and the rest  
Of that impatient Crew, had forthwith been  
In open Arms, had cautious Fear not pressed  
For some demur. He Jealousy did win  
To side with him; and then, 'tis best, said He,  
That of some valiant Leader We agree.   

154.  
Psyche is strong and sober: If we fight  
Without due Discipline, that Rashness will  
Help her to put our foolish Powers to flight:  
But if we make some expert general's skill  
Our own by following it, the Victory  
Will be ambitious on our side to be.   

155.  
That Word, a new confusion broached: for All  
Reached at the general's place, excepting Fear  
And Jealousy; yet these were loath to fall  
Under the absolute power of any there.  
At length, they vote to step abroad, and try  
Who skilled best Feats of Activity.   

156.  
When lo (so well Hell's plots were laid,) they met  
A goodly person taller by the Head  
Than any of themselves: Disdain did sit  
High on his Brows, his awful Limbs were spread  
To such extent of Gallantry, that there  
Seemed ample room for every thing but Fear.   

157.  
His first glimpse all their wishes did concentre  
Upon himself. Love forthwith is designed  
To break unto the Knight their bold Adventure  
And with her wily Sweetness sift his Mind.  
She hastens to her Task: and bowing low,  
Opens her Mouths fountain, whence this Charm did flow.   

158.  
Might's goodly Mirror, whosoever you be  
Whom blessed Fortune shows Us here alone,  
Surely such fair and ample Majesty  
Deserves by thousands to be waited on:  
And, if such honour you this Troop will deign,  
We shall have found a Lord, and you a Train.   

159.  
A brave Design has fired Us now, which may  
Your Might and Sovereign Command become:  
Upon a War we have resolved to day  
With Psyche; but good Chance has kept Us from  
Choosing our General, and we hope our stay  
Was but for You, whom Heaven puts in our way.   

160.  
Necessity made this Conspiracy  
To break that Yoke which else our Necks would break:  
Would Psyche suffer Us ourselves to be,  
No mutiny of ours her Throne should shake:  
But we, though Passions, calm and quiet must lie,  
Whilst she proves Passionate even to Tyranny.   

161.  
We must not Hope, nor Fear, nor Love, nor Hate,  
Nor nothing else, whilst she does all these things:  
If fouler Slavery e'er did violate  
Free-Subjects Birthright, scorn our sufferings:  
If not; O may the safety be ours,  
Great Sir, by your stout Hand, the Glory Yours.   

162.  
Agenor glad such punctual success  
Did on his own Design itself obtrude:  
Swelling his Looks to bigger stateliness,  
Three turns he stalked, three times he proudly viewed  
The Company, three times he snuffed, and then  
Opening his Mouth at leisure, thus began:   

163.  
Now by my Might and Worth I know you all,  
But silly Worms, I see you know not Me,  
Whom to so vile a piece of Work you call  
As bridling wretched Psyche's Tyranny.  
Must I whom Lions, Tigers, Dragons fear,  
Debase my strength, and stoop to conquer Her?   

164.  
If of the great Kind she a Monster were,  
If she had made distressed Countries Fly  
To the next Oracle on wings of Fear,  
To summon to their help a Deity;  
If she could prove a Thirteenth Task for Him  
Who Twelve performed, the work would me beseem.   

165.  
And yet because I your Oppression see,  
I'll win so much of my high-practised Might  
To make it bow to your delivery:  
Yet never say Agenor came to fight;  
I scorn the Match, this Finger will be strong  
Enough to show my Pity of your Wrong.   

166.  
This said; He marched in more than warlike state  
Unto the House where thoughtful Psyche lay:  
And thundering imperiously at the Gate  
Unto the Rebel's Rage burst open the way;  
Filling her outward Court with Noise and Fear,  
Whose echo revealed in her frighted Eare.   

167.  
As when the Winds let loose upon the Sea  
Tear up the Deeps and fling them at the Stars,  
Chase away unarmed Serenity  
At the first blast of those unlooked for Wars,  
Each startled Nymph her fearful 〈◊〉 shrinks in,  
And to the bottom of the World doth run:   

168.  
So Psyche trembling at the furious Cry  
Retreated to her inmost Fort; a place  
High built and strong, and yielding to her Eye  
Full view of all the Rebels: Time it was  
To call her Counsellor, whom to the Rout  
With these instructions she sendeth out:   

169.  
Run Logos run, and know what mad mistake  
Has hurled my subjects into tumult: Try  
(For well thou skill'st that gentle Might) to break  
Their fury's Torrent by the lenity  
Of wise Persuasion: Pardon, of all Charms  
The best, proclaim to them who lay down Arms.   

170.  
The News made Logos shake his Head: but yet  
With pleasant Gravity to them He goes:  
And, friends, said He, if you be in a fit  
Of fight, go in God's name, seek your Foes.  
This is your peaceful Home; o be it far  
From you to ruin your own Rest by War.   

171.  
If you had any reason to rebel,  
Sure I should guess at it, but I know none:  
What boots it you our Empress to expel,  
Who needs must fall in her confusion!  
What gains the Madman, who through jealous fears  
Pulls his own house, and death, about his ears!   

172.  
What means sweet Love to rob herself of all  
Herself, and unto Discord it impart?  
Must th' universal Glue which binds the Ball  
Of the whole World so close, in pieces start?  
Shall your dear Bands serve only now to tie  
Confusion fast to your Conspiracy?   

173.  
Stern Hatred, could the copious World afford  
No other food whereon to feast thy Spite,  
But thou against thyself must draw thy Sword,  
Whilst with thine Empress thou preparest to fight?  
Hate whom thou wilt besides, but hate not her  
Whose Love gives thee thy life and dwelling here.   

174.  
What strange Enchantments lured thee, fond Hope,  
To this Design of Self-destruction? Who  
Abused thy credulous Soul, and puffed thee up  
With this vain fancy, that the Ladder to  
Climb higher, must be Ruin? Thus art thou  
Of Hope become plain Desperation now.   

175.  
Unhappy Fear, and what makes thee afraid  
Longer to dwell with thine own Safety?  
What monstrous Witchery hath here betrayed  
Thy trembling Heart to this bold mutiny?  
What hardeneth thee, who quakest at every frown  
Of other Princes, to despise thine own?   

176.  
Brave Anger, shall the scoffing World at last  
Have cause to mock thy Valour, which doth make  
Such earnest haste unto so mad a Jest  
As Waging War against thine own Mistake?  
What pity 'tis to see thou art so fair  
And well-appointed, when no Fear is near!   

177.  
And You my Fellow-subjects all, whom I  
Have often heard our gracious Sovereign praise,  
For humble Duty and Fidelity:  
O why must groundless Rashness now erase  
Your noble Character, and print upon  
Your Heads the foul Blot of Rebellion!   

178.  
By your Allegiance, and ingenerate Worth,  
By your own dearest Lives and Safety,  
By Psyche's royal head, by Heaven and Earth,  
By every thing I you conjure to be  
True to yourselves: The Queen desires but this,  
Who by your peace & wealth counts her own Bliss.   

179.  
She is as ready to forget, as you  
Can be your hasty Error to lay down:  
She on your Necks, by Me her arms doth throw,  
And by my Tongue she calls you still her own:  
Behold the Seal of her Embraces here,  
A General Pardon, all your Doubts to clear.   

180.  
As when upon a raging Fire you throw  
Soft oil, the fretful Flames incensed by  
Its gentleness, more fierce and rampant grow;  
So here the unrelenting Mutinous Fry  
Stormed at persuasive Logos, and to new  
Impatience at his sweet Oration grew.   

181.  
He's an Enchanter, Anger cried, and by  
These Blandishments hath oft bewitched Us:  
But now our just and ripe Conspiracy  
Scorns to be Fooled and confuted thus:  
'Tis time to act our Resolutions now,  
That Reasons may no longer Us undo.   

182.  
Then clapping her right Paw upon his Throat,  
And stopping with her left his Mouth, she drew  
Him to Agenor: And now we have got  
Our subtlest Foe, Sir, let him have his due,  
Cried she; We never shall our business do  
If to the Tyrant back in peace He go.   

183.  
The other Passions all rebounded that  
Rebellious Word: whose General glad to see  
Their Madness compass, what his Pride could not,  
Gave Order Logos should close Prisoner be:  
They hallowed first, then in tumultuous haste  
Two Chains upon his Mouth and Neck they cast.   

184.  
And here I challenge any Heart to read  
This woe full Story, and forbear to sigh:  
Seeing the Feet thus trample on the Head,  
And common Slaves with insolent licence Fly  
Upon their Lord: O who secure can be  
When Reason must be bound, and Passion free.   

185.  
Psyche, whom all this while Suspicion had  
Held at the window of her lofty Tower,  
When she descried from thence how fiercely mad  
And confident of their outrageous power  
The Rebels were; and that in foul disdain  
Her Messenger they did in Bonds detain,   

186.  
She fetched a mighty sigh; and though with Him  
Herself, and all her honour Prisoners were,  
Between Despairs and Hopes she long did swim,  
Waiting if any Harbour would appear:  
But her own Fancies to such tumults rose,  
As almost copied out her mutinous Foes.   

187.  
Thus by that Noise without, and this within,  
She summoned was unto the Top of fears:  
Charis was stepped aside, and lay unseen,  
And now her trusty Phylax disappears:  
No Friend was left but Thelema, and she  
Was thought but wavering in fidelity.   

188.  
But as the shipwrecked Man tossed up and down  
Between high and low Deaths amongst the Waves,  
Clapps fast on any glimpse of help, and grown  
Bold by Despair, nor hold nor comfort leaves  
As long's his plank doth float: So Psyche now  
On Thelema her sinking Arms doth throw.   

189.  
And, O, cried she, my only Refuge, I  
Conjure thee well to mark thy Hap, and mine:  
The Tempest of my Woes is swollen so high,  
That now all Bridles it doth scorn, but thine;  
And 'tis thy Privilege that I to thee  
Must owe my Life, for thy sake, dear to Me.   

190.  
At what a price wouldst thou this Day have bought  
Which can so deep engage thy Queen to thee!  
Yet it had been thy sin, if thou hadst sought  
This sad unnatural opportunity.  
But now their Disobedience opes the way  
For thy Desert, if thou wilt Me obey.   

191.  
Logos had proved himself both wise and strong  
Had obstinate Madness not damned up their Ears:  
But all his Powers fight from his Tongue  
Their deaf Rebellion his strength out-dares:  
His Arguments confuted are with Chains.  
And I in Fear, in Prison he remains.   

192.  
But thy brave Valour in thine Hand doth dwell  
And reign, incomparable Amazon;  
Thine Acts are Conquests all: which who would tell,  
Must call the World to count: Thy Nod alone  
Points out thy Victories: Fresh groves of Bays  
And Palms thy Footsteps every, where do raise.   

193.  
By softness fain I would have conquered them,  
No Blast of whose Rebellion could blow out  
My royal Love which toward them did flame:  
But now Necessity calls for a stout  
And corrosive Cure, thy Hand must do the deed,  
And in their Wounds teach this my heart to bleed.   

194.  
Go then my faithful Champion, and may  
Blessed Success go in thy company:  
I from this Window will wait on thy way  
By my observing and well-wishing Eye,  
Which shall the Witness of thy Valour be,  
And what reward it shall deserve from Me.   

195.  
But fail not to revenge the proud intrusion  
Of yon ignoble stranger, who may be  
Perhaps, the Firebrand of all this Confusion  
Which threatens to burn up both thee and me.  
If his blood will suffice to quench his Fire,  
Spare all the rest; they will no more conspire,   

196.  
Stout Thelema with this Commission goes,  
And with imperious Looks builds up her brow.  
At her commanding Presence, all her Foes  
Their Eyes, and Arms, and Courage down did throw:  
Only Agenor's stomach rose to see  
Himself out-looked in high-swoll'n Majesty.   

197.  
But knowing his own Weakness, and her Might,  
And seeing all the Passions turned to Fear;  
He thought it safest now to change the Fight  
Of Arms to that of Wit: For in Love's ear  
He whispered his device, and straightway she  
At Thelema let fly this Fallacy.   

198.  
Illustrious Lady, you to day might spare  
Those ireful looks, with which Mistake hath ploughed  
Your awful face: How can you think We dare  
So far forget what Might is, as with proud  
Madness to whet our Sword and bend our Bow  
To make War with Omnipotence, and You?   

199.  
But as your strength is great so is your love,  
Whom we have always found our noble Friend:  
But though with loyal Service we have striven  
To win our Sovereign's favour, she will lend  
No pity to our fainting Souls, but still  
With linger Death delighteth us to kill.   

200.  
Arms are our only (forced) Refuge now:  
For though your brawny Might knows how to beat  
The Injuries she poureth upon You;  
Our Shoulders of a weaker Temper are:  
Nor can you judge it guilt in Us, if We  
Shrink more than you under her Tyranny.   

201.  
You know what constant Slavery she heaped  
On our poor backs, who yet were all freeborn:  
This noble Stranger, when He saw Us, wept,  
And thought it Honour's duty not to scorn  
Our sad condition: How then can You,  
Except a Friend should more than stranger grow?   

202.  
If We must perish, Let our Miseries  
Beg but this woeful courtesy of You:  
Return Us not to Psyche, who denies  
Us brevity of Torments: Lo We throw  
Ourselves before your gentle feet, and pray  
Our Lives and Griefs may see no other day,   

203.  
Nay doubt not, We dare die; but dare not think  
Of living in our former Death again:  
If from the fatal blow our Necks but shrink,  
Then say, we truly wished not to be slain:  
Here take our Swords; at least they in your Hand  
Though not in ours, our Servitude may end.   

204.  
As when the cunning Reeds their heads do bow  
In low submission to the boisterous Wind,  
And with their whining Pipe complaints do blow  
To every Blast, compassion to find;  
Way to their Charm the generous Tempest gives,  
And passing forward, Them their Pardon leaves:   

205.  
So portly Thelema allayed by  
Their fawning Homage, bade them all arise:  
They instantly unveiling Memory,  
In fraudulent thanks, presented to her Eyes  
The stately Pageant Fancy thither brought,  
With their own Treasures amplier furnished out.   

206.  
She looked and wondered, and let through her Eye  
The soft Deceit get stealing to her Heart:  
She never yet did at one time descry  
So huge an Army of Delights, such Art  
Of sweetness, such Magnificence of Pleasure,  
Such equipage of Smiles, and Joys, and Leisure.   

207.  
Election who at her right hand did stand,  
Was never at so dainty loss as here;  
Ten thousand sweets her Eyes examined and  
Stood gazing still, in doubt which to prefer:  
So in the flowery Mead fond Children lose  
Their Eyes before they can resolve to choose.   

208.  
The Rebels, now their crafty Bait went down  
Without the least suspicion of the Hook,  
Bid Love drive home the Plot: She having thrown  
Herself upon her knee, with flattering Look  
And pliant Words, endeavoured to make  
Submission teach Rebellion how to speak.   

209.  
Right gentle Thelema, since this our store,  
Which thy fair Eyes are pleased not to disdain,  
From cruel Psyche can deserve no more  
Respect, than glances of Contempt; again  
We beg that We may never live to see  
Such Sweets betrayed to new Slavery.   

210.  
The Heaven, thou see'st the Earth, the Air, the Sea,  
By this their royal Contribution make  
Our Treasury their own: And yet must We  
From our Possession be beaten back,  
And not enjoy what all the World's Consent  
In this rich Mass heaps up for our Content.   

211.  
Now by thy Mighty Goodness We implore  
Relief for our loud-crying Injuries:  
So to thy Service this exuberant Store  
We sacrifice; no despicable Price  
Of thy Compassion, if the total gains  
Of Nature's wealth be worth thy smallest Pains.   

212.  
So thy Desires shall be the Laws whereby  
Obliged We our Lives will regulate:  
So great Agenor will unite in thy  
Acquaintance, and this Morning consecrate  
To peaceful smiles, whose ominous Dawn was red  
With flashes of fierce War, and streaks of Blood.   

213.  
As when the Shepherd, loitering by the side  
Of some soft-murmuring Current, lets his Ear  
Drink the complaining story of the Tide;  
That purling Language soon doth domineer  
Over his charmed Spirits, and down he lies  
Both to the Noise, and Sleep an easy Prize:   

214.  
So Thelema, who lingered all this while  
In Fond attendance on Love's Blandishments,  
Was now subdued by her glozing Guile,  
And to the Rebels fair-tongued Plot consents:  
Her hankering Arms she with their Treasures fills,  
Her foolish Heart with Joy, her Face with Smiles.   

215.  
And, Well I see, she cries, how righteous is  
Your Cause and Quarrel: Heaven forbid that I  
Unto your undeserved Miseries  
The justice of Compassion should deny.  
Yet Pity is not all that I can show,  
You know this Hand hath greater Worth than so.   

216.  
Alas, it is not Psyche, though she be  
My Sovereign Mistress, that can make me bend:  
〈◊〉 do I rush and range abroad, when she  
Would lock me up; and oft when she would send  
Me forth, except my Pleasure be to stir,  
I stay in spite of all her strength, and Her.   

217.  
'Twas I first taught your Prisoner Logos how  
To bear a Chain: else you had striven in vain;  
But I have long accustomed Him to bow  
To my least Finger his strong-reaching Brain:  
And though sometimes I let him wrangle, yet  
Reason has no more power than I permit.   

218.  
The universal Strength of all you see  
Throughout the wide-spred World look big and high,  
Ne'er yet made Combination which could be  
Valid enough to bind my Potency:  
Hence 'tis that stoutest Champions from their knee  
By Prayers fight whenever they deal with Me.   

219.  
They talk of Samson, one I must confess  
Fame hath not quite belied: Yet we see  
A Wenche's shears clipped off his Mightiness,  
And trimmed him fit for his Captivity:  
Alas poor Giant, all his strength hung loose  
About his Ears; mine in my Heartlies' close.   

220.  
Nay Heaven (without a Brag I speak't) doth know  
My strength so well, that it would never try  
By force of Arms my 〈◊〉 Neck to bow;  
But by allurements strives to mollify  
My hardy Heart. And well it is that Ye  
Have took that gentle only course with Me.   

221.  
This said: Agenor by the hand she takes  
And bids him welcome with a courtly Kiss:  
He like a Soldier, proud repayment makes  
In arrogant high-languaged Promises,  
And swears, By all his Conquests, she shall find,  
That with a Man indeed sh'had now combined.   

222.  
Then leading Her to his Pavilion,  
His Soldiers He to Council fummons: They  
As proud's therr haughty General, thither run,  
Rending, with Acclamations their Way,  
And there contrive, by joint deliberation,  
The rest of their Adventure how to fashion.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO V. The Pacification.  
ARGUMENT.  

LOve on the Rebel's part, with Psyche treats,  
Whose fair Tale 
* The Will.  Thelema and 
† The Spirit of Pride.  Agenor back:  
Deluded Psyche yieldeth to their Cheats,  
And with her fawning Foes a League doth make:  
Then, on Synei' esis a Veil she throws,  
And wanton in her Pride, abroad she goes.   

1.  
WHat boots it Man, that Nature's Courtesy  
Hath lift his awful Looks high towards Heaven,  
And built his Temples up with Majesty,  
And into's Hand imperial Power given?  
What royal Nonsense is a Diadem  
Abroad, for One who's not at Home supreme!   

2.  
How does the whole World mock Him, when it lays  
Its universal Homage at His Feet;  
Whom whilst the Air, the Earth, the Sea obeys,  
A sauc e pack of 〈◊〉 dare meet  
With 〈◊〉 Defiance, and presume to hope  
His Empire shall go down, their Pleasures up!   

3.  
What Credit is't for Him to vaunt how He  
On every Monstrous thing his Conquests builds;  
That Tigers, Lions, Dragons forced be  
By Him, to learn submission: That He wields  
Inanimate Mountains, and through widest Seas  
Commands his Ships to reach what World he please:   

4.  
If his own Vessels helm unruely grow,  
And into fatal Tempests hurry Him;  
If his domestic Slave's 〈◊〉 to bow  
Their worthless Necks, when He commandeth them,  
And fill his Palace with more furious Beasts  
Than are the desert Mountains savage Guests!   

5.  
Alas poor Prince, whose Sovereignty  
Can be the Game and Scoff of vilest Things!  
How much are Worms, who of themselves can be  
Entire Commanders, more Substantial Kings!  
Intestine Rebels never trouble Worms,  
But Psyche's tossed and torn with civil storms.   

6.  
She from her Palace Window saw her Grief  
Must'red in terrible Battalia:  
In vain. within, she looked for Relief  
Where nought but empty Desolation lay:  

* The Intellect.  Logos and Thelema were absent; He  
To Violence Prisoner, to Enchantment She,   

7.  
Syneideses indeed stayed still behind,  
But by her stay, made Tortures do so too:  
Full in the face of Psyche's wounded Mind  
The guilt of this Rebellion she did throw.  
Blame not the Passions, said the, if they  
Revolt; Thou to their Treason op'dst the way.   

8.  
Hadst thou been careful how to wield thy Might,  
And in due time approved thyself a Queen,  
Straight hadst thou held the Reins, and driven right  
Thy royal Chariot: Still your Beasts had been  
Themselves, as loyal unto you and mild,  
As now they savage are become and wild '   

9  
When in a stealing Preface to the Flood  
The first streams slily creep; with ease may We  
Divert their course into some other road.  
But if We slight what seems so weak to be,  
They grow upon Us straight, disdaining more  
Our strength, than we their Weakness did before.   

10.  
You scorned the Passion's breeding Garboils: You  
Forsooth, on Safeties wings sat mounted high.  
And, pray, what is that Rivulet come too now?  
What wants it of a Sea's immensity:  
It is a Sea, which though perhaps it may  
Not cleanse your Crime, can wash your Life away.   

11.  
And where is Charis, where is Phylax now!  
O, you were too secure their aid to need,  
You well could lend them to poor Heaven, I trow  
A place which more did want their Help: Indeed  
You're a great Queen at Home, and can command;  
Look how your Subjects your high will attend.   

12.  
Unhappy Psyche stung by these Reproaches,  
Receives the wound full deep into her Heart;  
Which with her blood, her Lamentations broaches,  
And thus she streameth out her double smart:  
Nay then I pardon them without, if thou  
Upon my heavy Grief more load dost throw.   

13.  
Cruel Syneideses, why staidst thou here  
To grind my dying Soul with nearer rage?  
Why joyndst thou not with them who vex Me there  
At distance? Must my bosom be the Stage  
Of thy more dangerous undermining Wrath,  
Which from my very Heart digs out my Death?   

14.  
Are these thy thanks to Me, who always kept  
Thee next myself, and hugged thee in my Breast?  
How little dreamed I that a Viper slept  
In this my nearest and my dearest Nest!  
Yet be assured, by gnawing out thy way  
That thou thyself, as well as Me shalt slay.   

15.  
The Privilege of other Vipers, Thou  
In vain expectest, who art more Fell than they:  
That decent Vengeance they their dams do owe  
Which by sage Nature's righteous Law they pay.  
But surely thou art of a kinder breed,  
Thy Matricide all pardon must exceed.   

16.  
Yet what gain I by thy Destruction?  
Who thee, and all those Rebels dear love?  
Unfortunate Me, who cannot die alone,  
But in my single Death all yours must prove:  
And, which is worse than Death, betrayed I,  
By your mad rage, thus oft at once must die.   

17.  
But stern Syneideses, who knew full well  
She on irrefragable Truth did lay  
The ground of all her Actions, began to swell  
With confident Scorn: and yet awhile gave way  
(Since She her Loyal Duties part had done,)  
To see what Psyche meant: Who thus went on:   

18.  
O Charis! wouldst not thou bid Me Adieu,  
But by discourteous parting, leave poor Me  
Unwarned and unarmed? Grant it true  
That my deserts could no invitement be  
To stay Thee here: My misery at least,  
Might woo thy Charity to be my Guest.   

19  
O Phylax! Why wilt thou forsake Me, who  
'Twixt Me and Danger hath so often spread  
Thy Wings impenetrable shield? That Foe  
Who in the Grove under thy Conquest bled,  
Was but a single Fiend: Why then shall thy  
Brave Hand not reap this fairer Victory.   

20.  
How shall I grapple with this monstrous Crew  
Confederate against my desolate Head,  
Whom one Antagonist did then subdue?  
What reason then soever made thee speed  
Unto my Aid is multiplied now:  
And how, how canst thou less Relief allow?   

21.  
O Prince of this my consecrated Breast,  
O thou whose Majesty did not disdain  
To make suit unto Me, but oft professed  
By thy Ambassador thine amorous pain,  
And sweet-tormenting Longings for my Love;  
What makes thy tender Heart forgetful prove!   

22.  
Hadst thou for ever not remembered Me,  
I had not been mocked with a taste of Bliss.  
Why did not Aprodisiu's Treachery  
Prevent the worse extremity of this?  
That soft and single Death why died not I,  
But am reserved a thousand times to die?   

23.  
What profit has to my soul's Treasury  
Accrued, that I so oft did Fast and Pray?  
What broke the Bottle, wont of old to be  
The trusty Storehouse of our Tears? What Pay  
Have all my faithful amorous Groans and Sighs,  
If I must prove mine own slaves Sacrifice?   

24.  
What meant this Token which did gird my Heart  
So close to Thee, if Me you cast away?  
Was this the Farewell you did Me impart  
When you some other Love had chose, which may  
Monopolise your constant favours, and  
In banished Psyche's place for ever stand.   

25.  
No wonder if my Passions mutinous prove,  
Breaking the Yoke which tied their faith to Me,  
If blessed Jesus can forget his love  
Knit in this spousal knot of Chastity.  
How can I longer be displeased with them,  
Unless I could and dared fall out with Him?   

26.  
O all my Joys, take Psyche's long Adieu;  
Dwell somewhere else where you can find a Room:  
My tumid Griefs have left no place for you,  
But made my whole usurped Heart their Home:  
And more than so; Far, far must you fly hence  
To scape my Sorrows vast Circumference.   

27.  
And you, poor Hopes, your time why do you lose  
In hankering here in my unhappy Breast?  
Go, go, I give you leave, go forth and choose  
In any place but this, a fortunate Nest.  
Be confident, you cannot fail elsewhere,  
For all Misfortunes are collected here.   

28.  
But o Disconsolations, be you free,  
For I resign myself your total Prey:  
Why should I not embrace my Misery,  
When still to look, and look in vain, for Joy,  
Doubles self-torment: Why should I alone,  
When all things hate me else, myself bemaone?   

29.  
Whilst thus she feeds on desolate Vexations,  
The Rebels at their Council busy were:  
Where tired with hard and knotty Consultations  
Which course was best to wreak their Wrath on Her,  
Up rose Suspicion, and, first looking over  
Each shoulder, thus did her Advice discover:   

30.  
Princely Agenor, and you Sisters all,  
Great is the business We have now in hand,  
And, Heaven forbid our Caution should be small;  
Haste may be good, when once we understand  
The way is clear: If otherwise; to run,  
Is only with more speed to be undone.   

31.  
Anger's Advice were sound, if Psyche were  
So weak a thing as her Opinion makes her:  
But on what Rocks shall we our Vessel steer  
By this untried Card, if she mistakes her?  
Fear, would she speak, could show you such a List  
Of Psyche's Powers, as soon would cool our Haste.   

32.  
Alas, how can we force the Queen, if she  
Deny to yield when we our battery make?  
Is not the Palace, and those Gates we see  
All of immortal Metal? We may break  
Our Engines, and our Plots, and Fury too,  
And, sooner than those Walls ourselves undo.   

33.  
A lingering Leaguer, what can that effect,  
Unless we hope at length to starve her out?  
But she long since all Dainties did neglect  
With which the whole World had her Table fraught.  
Her Prayers, and her Heaven, her diet were;  
And now she's all alone, she best doth far.   

34.  
But as for Us, who at the Siege must lie,  
We, fed with Hope of Victory, must starve  
Before we get it: For what will supply  
Us daily with Provision to serve  
So many Mouths, which Psyche filled till now;  
And, if she be shut up, so must they too.   

35.  
Besides; who knows but some of her Allies,  
Phylax or Charis, or some such strong Friend,  
May rush upon our backs, and by surprise  
Both our Design and Us in pieces rend?  
New is the Lesson in the Grove you read:  
Can you forget how Aphrodisius sped?   

36.  
Nay, you have heard of heavens immortal Son  
In whose vast hand Omnipotence doth reign:  
That Hand, which when great Lucifer begun  
To let his Eyes but glimmer with disdain;  
Tumbled him headlong into Death and Hell:  
I tell you Friends, this Christ loves Psyche well.   

37.  
We cannot be too careful: and for my  
Own part, I judge the safest Way the best.  
And this is by a present Embassy  
With humble Lies, and Oaths, and Gloze dressed  
To cheat her from her strength: So we may gain  
Our Ends, and seem to scape Rebellions slain.   

38.  
But let a Vow of Perseverance first  
Seal Us all sure to our Conspiracy,  
That by herself that Passion may be cursed  
Aforehand, who shall false or fearful be.  
If one should chance to fail, why may not two?  
If two, why may the Sum not higher go?   

39  
This said: An eye of Doubt and Fear she cast  
Upon Agenor to observe how He  
Rellished her Words: But soon she saw their Taste  
〈◊〉 welcome in his palate: Instantly,  
I like her Counsel best. He cries, and You  
Shall strengthen your Adventure, by this Vow,   

40.  
Thus shall my Might escape, what I did Fear,  
The vile Encounter with a Woman; and  
My Pity unto You no less declare,  
Whilst in your Front my Majesty doth stand  
And strike such Terror, without any Blow,  
Into your Queen, that she shall yield to you.   

41.  
Then calling for a Baçin and a Pin,  
He pricked his annular Finger, and let fall  
Three Drops of Blood: And what He did begin,  
As solemnly reacted was by All  
The Company: Which done, again He takes  
The Baçin, and three Elevations makes.   

42.  
And, may that Blood which still remains behind  
Be forced to follow these Three Drops, He cried,  
If ever I unbend my resolute Mind,  
Or from this Wars stout Prosecution slide.  
May this my present Poison be, (and here  
He dipped his Tongue,) if now I falsely swear.   

43.  
Then sprinkling on the back of his Right Hand  
Another Drop: This Martial Mark, said He,  
Shall for a Badge and Memorandum stand  
Of our now sure and sacred Unity.  
You see our Covenants Rites: Now every One  
Do what your willing General has done.   

44.  
Never did Health more cheerly walk its Round  
When lusty Wine and Mirth the Bowl had filled,  
Than did this bloody barbarous Baçin, crowned  
With Rage and Madness. Their Rebellion sealed  
Thus by this desperate Ceremony, They  
To Psyche speed their Messenger away.   

45.  
And this was Love, upon whose Tongue although  
Perpetual Sleights and Fallacies did dwell;  
Yet with industrious Deceptions now,  
And studied Flatteries she her Mouth did fill.  
She knew the Queen was wise and strong, and would  
With common known Delusions not be fooled,   

46.  
Thus to the Gate demurely come, She tried  
It with a modest Knock, and paused a while:  
Then struck again, a timorous Stroke; to hide  
In this soft Preface her meek-insolent Guile.  
The gentle Knock bad Psyche courage take  
To come and see what it would further speak.   

47.  
No sooner had she opened a Casement, and  
Reached out her doubtful Head the News to know,  
But she beheld where Love did trembling stand  
With weeping Eyes, and with dejected Brow.  
She liked the Posture; yet demanded why  
She thither came a false and fawning Spy?   

48.  
Love, by that Word warned to screw up her Art,  
Fell on her knees, and three times smote her breast,  
And, Woe is Me, she cried, whose loyal Heart  
Can find no milder Language from my best  
And dearest Prince! What strange Mischance doth throw  
This Wrong on Me, and that Mistake on You?   

49.  
If to repair to You in humblest Guise  
Who here immured d'well in Desolation,  
If to discover where the Error lies  
Whose secret Venom breeds this Perturbation  
Of your whole Realm, deserve the Name of Spy,  
I well can bear this glorious Infamy.   

50.  
But if Misprision so doth cheat your Eyes,  
That, looking with a jealous Glance on Me,  
They in my Countenance read an Enemies:  
I must beg leave to tell your Majesty,  
(For it concerns my Essence,) you forget  
Your Creature, and take Love itself for Hate.   

51.  
Yet your Mistake shall make no change in Me:  
Use your vast Power in any thing but this.  
I still am Love and so resolve to be,  
Nor fear that false and envious Witnesses  
Can swear Me from myself. Heaven cannot frame  
What I had rather be, than what I am.   

52.  
Sure I, with that right genuine Love which You  
Hugg next your Soul, have some Affinity:  
Can that brave Passion adulterate grow,  
And slain its spotless self with Treachery?  
Can Odours stinking, Honey bitter be,  
Silk harsh, Down hard, that thus you think of Me?   

53.  
O no; dear Sovereign, I am hither sent  
The soft Ambassador of Peace to you:  
Nor of my Office does it me repent  
What wrath so e'er stands bend in your stern brow.  
And though I know not what will hence ensue,  
I to my native sweetness must be true.   

54.  
I see you thought you ' Company had bend  
Some treacherous Plot against your royal Head.  
And is't nor likely they would all consent  
Their own Life and Heart blood in yours to shed?  
Madame, believe't, self's not a dearer Name  
To noble You, than to the worst of them.   

55.  
'Tis true, a piece of Discontent has put  
Them in that posture of Defence: But by  
Your Majesty I swear,, they brew no Plot  
But what becomes a Subject's Modesty.  
If Mischief their intention were: what Charms  
Could dead their hands, & damp their glittering Arms?   

56.  
If strong-embatteled injured Patience be  
A Sign of Treason, they are Traitors all.  
But sure this loyal kind of Treachery  
Doth more for Thanks and Praise, than Anger, call.  
O never be it said, that you alone  
Could, in Armed Meekness, read Rebellion.   

57  
By me their homage they present to you,  
Beseeching that with it you would embrace  
Their humble Suit; and to their long night show  
Their only Day which riseth from your race:  
That you would deign to go and see how they  
Their panting Souls before your Feet would lay.   

58.  
Here breaking off in a deceitful Sigh,  
With cunning Tears she all her face bedewed.  
Tossed too and fro in ambiguity  
Ten thousand several thoughts poor Psyche chewed.  
Weeping at length, O that those Tears of thine  
She cried, were as sinceer and true as mine!   

59  
If those my Subjects now would Suitors be,  
What mean proud Arms, and warlike Preparation?  
Petitions should from the bended knee,  
Not from the Bow be shot: This sullen fashion  
Stout Rogues brought up, who begging with one Hand,  
A stone bear in the other to command.   

60.  
In front why is that burly Stranger set  
As General against your Sovereign?  
One, whose heav'n-daring Looks bespeak Him fit  
Not to Petition, but to disdain.  
If I were longer to be trusted, why  
Chose you His Banner for Security?   

61.  
Yet that the Progress of your Treason may  
Want all Pretence, as its Beginning did:  
I'll condescend to hear what you can say,  
Provided you yourselves in quiet spread  
Before my Window. I must parley here:  
You know how you have used my Messenger.   

62.  
Love stung by that last Word, and with fresh tears  
Dissembling their true cause, took humble leave.  
The News to her Confederates she bears,  
Who it with doubtful Countenance receive,  
And bolting every Circumstance, conclude  
That still the same Device must be pursued.   

63.  
Agenor strait resolved himself to show  
Inall his Pomp, and more than was his own;  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 might those brave Temptations view  
Which swelled so high only to throw her down.  
But none of all the Passions knew from whence  
He beckoned in his strange Magnificence.   

64.  
The pompous Furniture in a full stream  
Followed his Nod with like Facility  
As in a dreaming Brain light Figures swim  
Into a sudden Masque of Majesty.  
Which Train He towards Psyche's Castle drew,  
And there prepared for the Interview.   

65.  
At length six golden Trumpets did proclaim  
Their Master's Highness was at hand to treat.  
To her balconey startled Psyche came,  
And soon perceived the sound was not so great  
As the strange sight: She never though a Queen,  
Such prodigality of State had seen.   

66.  
In open Tent appeared, whose Covering was  
Sumptuously rugged with Embroidery  
Of Perls and Jewels; in which orient Glass  
The Sun, who needs would peep, had lost his Eye,  
But yet ten thousand He received for one,  
For every Perl did beat him back a Sun.   

67.  
A fearful Texture of strange Tapestry  
Paved the rich Floor with an historic Pride;  
Where slaughtered Lions, Boars, and Bears did lie,  
Confessing by whose 〈◊〉 Hand they died.  
For every one had great Agenor's dart  
Deep sticking in his head, or in his heart.   

68  
The wall hung thick with War: the noblest Stories  
Whose valiant Actors e'er did honour Bays,  
Were glistering there, not in unworthy Glories:  
For all that Gold and Gems could do to raise  
Them to their life again, was freely tried,  
And Art as liberally her wealth supplied.   

69.  
Th' obedient Sun reined in his posting Hours  
By heavens steep side, at Joshua's Command,  
Where to attend and to admire his Powers,  
This glorious Witness with fixed Eye did stand.  
The Moon keeped in her Horns, and dared not  
Push out the Night, till he the Day had got.   

70.  
Close by, five prostrate Kings the ground did gnaw,  
Feeling upon their Necks his Captains Feet:  
And in a stately-miserable Row  
Were six and twenty other Princes set,  
Whose Crowns before his Helmet broken lay,  
Whose lopped Sceptres to his sword gave way.   

71.  
There boisterous Samson with his Asse's Jaw  
(A wretched Weapon, could his sinews not  
Amend his weak Tool by its potent Blow,)  
A thousand Enemies devoureth: But  
With statlier Might his brawny shoulders here  
Did Gaza's Gates up Hebron Mountain wear.   

72.  
But yet his last Exploit crowned all the rest,  
When to the Princes fatal Sport he showed,  
Turning their Banquet to their funeral Feast,  
Where with their Wine all their own Blood he brewed,  
As at the Pillars He did stand and pull,  
The Hangings were with their own Ruins full.   

73.  
Next him, a young and ruddy Champion flings  
Into Goliahs' Brow a shameful Death,  
There Isbibenob dread and terror brings  
Upon the Scene, shaking with monstrous Wrath  
His barbarous Spear, till Abishai's brave Sword  
Hewed down this Mount, whose fall made Gath afeard   

74.  
There Sibbechai on Saph's enormous Pride  
Due vengeance takes. There mighty Elbanan  
Drowns stroming Lahmi in his own Blood's 〈◊〉.  
There the undaunted Blade of Jonathan  
Prunes the six-fingered Giant, and requites  
The bold defiance He on Israel spits.   

75.  
An Army to himself, Adino there  
Musters his Powers against eight hundred Foes:  
Glad this brave Harvest He alone may shear,  
About 〈◊〉 daring Work the Champion goes,  
Nor stops his Conquest until He has mown  
This total field of matchless Honour down.   

76.  
There Dodo's Son; there Shammah keep their ground  
Nor yield one inch to all Philistia's Host:  
Shame spurred the Armies on; but still they found  
They ventured only to their fatal cost:  
For obstinate Victory attended here  
On Shammah's sword, on Eleazr's there.   

77.  
Benajab from th' Egyptian Hero here  
Tears both his Spear and Life: There He divides  
Destruction 'twixt a Lyon-faced Pair  
Of Moabites: His Falchion here he guides  
Into a real Lion's Heart, whose Cave  
In which He found him, soon He made his Grave.   

78.  
To Bethleem there the danger-scorning Three  
Through the Philistian Guards slash open their way,  
Fired with a stronger thirst of Victory,  
Than was their Kings of Water: And their Prey  
They fail not to obtain, though through a flood  
Going and coming, they must wade of blood.   

79.  
The other Work did only speak what He  
Himself was pleased about himself too Lie.  
How many gasping Giants might you see  
Yielding Agenor strange-formed Victory!  
How many Palms and Bays about Him throw  
Themselves, ambitious of his Hand and Brow!   

80.  
Above, his Scutcheon hangs, In Azure field  
A Lion Or, with Lightning in his Paw,  
The Crest was Fame, with Cheeks & 〈◊〉 swelled,  
And wings displayed: His Throne was built below  
Of Pearl, whose Lustre yet was conqaered  
By those six steps which up to it did lead.   

81.  
The first was 
* Riches.  Plutus, of substantial Price;  
The next 
† Nobility.  Eugenia, in fancy high:  

* Beauty.  Callos the third, the ravisher of Eyes;  
The fourth 
† Valour.  Andria full of Majesty;  
The fifth 
* Learning.  Pedia, fairer than the rest;  

† Piety.  Ensebia the sixth, of all the best.   

82.  
There sat ' the Gallant. One whole Diamond made  
His radiant Helmet, and in wanton pride  
A knot of gorgeous Plumes about it played,  
Scorning all Winds that kissed them: Still afide  
They waved their Heads when any Blast came near  
And coily seemed to ask, what make you here?   

83.  
A Mantle of Estate flowed round about  
Down from his wide-spred shoulders to his feet,  
And clothed Him with all splendours that are brought  
From Eastern shores the Western Pearls to meet,  
And by, a rich Conspiracy of Beams  
Epitomise the World's estate of Gems.   

84.  
His sword looked Lightning through its crystal sheath,  
Whose round Hiltits Victorious blade did crown:  
But yet his Sceptre did more terrout breath,  
Such Majesty about it he had thrown.  
The Ball in's hand was swelled to that Degree,  
As if it meant indeed the World to be.   

85.  
At his right Hand stood Scorn: turned was her Head  
Over her shoulder: with contemptuous Eye  
Through a thick frown her sullen mind she spread,  
And seeing, scorned to see, the Company.  
Nor did she mend, or mollify her Brow,  
But when Agenor's growing rough she saw.   

86.  
At his left hand stood gaudy Philautie,  
But dwelled more on a Crystal Glass she held  
Eternally near her admiring Eye;  
In which her foolish self she read, and smiled  
On her fair lession, though the brittle Glass  
Admonished her how vain her Beauty was.   

87.  
Before him, on a golden Pillar, at  
Whose foot a Laurel and a Palm did grow,  
Upon the back of triumph glory sat;  
Whose dazzling Robes did with more lustre flow  
Than breaks from Phebu's furniture when He  
Through Cancer rides in all June's gallantry.   

88  
About Him round his whole Retinue was  
Disposed in royal equipage: His own  
Attendants had the credit of the place  
Which glittered nearest his illustrious Throne:  
Then stood the Passions, all admiring how  
This Scene of Wonders could so quickly grow.   

89.  
Crafty Agenor having paused a while  
To give respect to his own State, and let  
Psyche both bite and swallow down the Guile  
About which He so fair a Bait had put:  
By soft and proud degrees vouchsafed to stir,  
And being risen, thus accosted Her.   

90.  
Did Pities generous and Sovereign Law  
All points of Ceremony not forbid,  
Agenor must not have descended now  
To stand at Psyche's Gate: But I am led  
Below myself by Virtue, that my Might  
May help these wronged Passions to their right.   

91.  
'Tis Fortune's pleasure that casts me upon  
These merciful Designs, and I'm content;  
The Honour's Gain enough: this Pay alone  
My Pains expect: Indeed the common Rent  
By which my most renowned Self I keep,  
Are the Revenues I from Glory reap.   

92.  
And for these silly Creatures sake, who thought  
I had been but some single Errand Knight,  
I let this glimpse of what I am break out,  
To teach their Error my authentic Might  
Needs no supplies from them: This Part of my  
Ne'r-conquered Train dares Heaven and Earth defy.   

93.  
I was resolved by this Swords dread Flame  
To sacrifice you to my Wrath: But now  
You are a Female thing, I hold it shame  
To make my Conquests honour stoop so low:  
I'm loath the World should say Agenor drew  
His Sword, and like a Man a Woman slew.   

94.  
In Woman's blood my Weapon never yet  
Blushed for its base Exploit: nor will it now  
Begin its shame, and a vile Victory get,  
Unless enforced by Fortune, Fate, and You.  
But I forget myself through Courtesy:  
Precious are Prince's Words, and few should be.   

95.  
Love knew her Cue; and, stepping gently forth,  
Great Queen, said she, I chosen am to be  
My suppliant Sister's Mouth: And may this Earth  
Open hers to close up mine, if Falsity  
Break from my lips, or any Fraud conceal  
What They, and Truth, and Justice, bid me tell.   

96.  
What Heaven has made Us, 'tis our Bliss to be,  
And that's your Subjects: Though cross Error now  
A confident Blot throws on our Loyalty,  
The lest of treacherous Thoughts We disavow:  
Alas what would the Members gain if they  
Combine their Wit and Strength their Head to slay.   

97.  
Yet your wise Majesty full well doth know  
That, as yourself a Free Prince are, so We  
Are Freeborn Subjects: Nature does allow  
In our sweet Common-weal no Tyranny:  
She knew this mutual Freedom best would bless  
Both Prince and People with joint Happiness.   

98.  
But what broad Innovations rushed of late  
Into our State, justling out Liberty,  
O that we could not feel! Had it been 〈◊〉  
Which thrust on Us this boisterous Misery,  
We had been silent: But we know what Hand  
Hath stoll n our Freedom, and by whose Command.   

99  
Nor I, nor any of my Sisters were  
Suffered ourselves in quiet to possess:  
We could not Love, nor Hate, nor Hope, nor Fear,  
We could not Sorrow know, nor Joyfulness,  
Nor any thing that pleased not Them who had  
A Prey of all our Privileges made.   

100  
Surely we had a legal Title to  
What ours by reverend Nature's bounty was.  
Yet snatched from thence, we must be pressed to go  
And serve abroad we knew not where, alas,  
Nor e'er shall know; for how should we comprise  
Mysterious things, and Matters of the Skies?   

101.  
Nor is this sad Case only ours, who are  
Inlanders here: Your Subjects too abroad  
Who at your Cinque-ports with perpetual care  
In gathering your royal Customs stood,  
Are loaded with like Grievances: and they  
Prayed Us, with our Complaints, theirs to display.   

102.  
They have not leave, (poor leave!) to Hear, or See,  
Or Smell, or Taste, or Feel, what is their own;  
But chained up in unnatural Slavery,  
Of their starv d Lives and Selves are weary grown.  
Yet this Grief more than all, their hearts doth break,  
That their Religion too lies at the Stake.   

103.  
They must a new Devotion learn, and be  
Tortured with Watchings, Prayers, and Prostrations,  
With Ceremonies of pale Piety,  
With Fast, and severe Mortifications:  
And if this Superstition they refuse,  
Some Mulct on the poor Confessors ensues.   

104.  
And by what Law must either They, or We  
Under this Arbitrary Power lie?  
Where is the Freeborn Subjects Liberty,  
Who have no power at all, unless to Die?  
And surely Death a greater Blessing were,  
Than such a Life as We do groan in here.   

105.  
Mistake not gracious Sovereign, what I speak:  
As if I charged the guilt of these our Woes  
Upon your Soul: My heartstrings first should crack  
With their own Torments loud, e'er I would lose  
My Tongue in such a slander: you alas,  
May with your Subjects for a Sufferer pass.   

106.  
A Sufferer in that which nearest lies  
And dearest unto every Prince's Heart:  
Your royal Honour in our Miseries  
Is racked and tortured and torn part from part.  
Ask not by Whom; but recollect who were  
They whose bold Charms in Court did domineer.   

107.  
Logos that wiley Fox Was never well  
But when on you and Us, he made a prey.  
Some handsome Tale or other He would tell  
Whereby to your Mistake He might betray  
Your unheard Subjects: From your Highness thus  
He stole your Ear, our Liberty from Us.   

108.  
His Majors, Minors, Maxims, Demonstrations,  
With most profound Deceit He gravely dressed;  
And by these sage and reverend Conjurations  
Poured Cruelty into your Gentle Breast;  
And made you count his Plots good sober Reason,  
Which in the Passions must have gone for Treason.   

109.  
Hence issued those Commands, which day by day  
Illegal Burdens on our Backs did heap,  
And to this sad Necessity betray  
Our loath Souls, that they could no longer sleep  
In patient Silence. Though all Warrants came  
From his fell Hand, they wore your gentle Name.   

110.  
Some woeful Comfort it had been if We  
Had to one single Tyranny been damned:  
But We at Home, in foreign slavery  
Were held; A Grievance we would not have named,  
In reverence to your Credit, could the thing  
Have easy grown by our long suffering.   

111.  
What is that Charis unto Us, that she  
In our Free State such arrogant sway must bear?  
Or what made you so weak a Prince, that We  
Must be Commanded by a Foreigner?  
We grant She's brave and Princely: Yet we know  
We owe Allegiance to no Queen but You.   

112.  
She came from Heaven, if we her Word may take:  
But what wooed Her from such a place as that,  
To dwell in this ignoble World, and make  
Her high Self stoop unto she knew not what?  
I would be loath to wrong Her; Yet I fear  
There's something in't, why Heaven gatrid of Her   

113.  
And being here, what-was the Trade she drove  
But how to barbarise your gentle Breast  
With strange Austerity; and to remove  
Us from your love with which We once were blest?  
Your smiles she all monopolised, and left  
Us quit of all things, but your Hate bereft,   

114.  
If this Devotion be, and heavenly Zeal,  
What is Unnaturalness? Alas that We  
None but destructive Piety must feel,  
And by Religion consumed be!  
Alas that Heaven and Godliness must thus  
Be forced to suffer injury with Us!   

115.  
Nor is proud Phylax one who with less Art  
Hath cozened you into this Tyranny:  
Soft are his Wings, but cruel is his Heart,  
Sweets in his Looks, Gall in his Thoughts doth lie:  
Fair does He speak you, but the bait is cheap:  
His streams run smoothest, where the chanell's deep.   

116.  
Were you a Youngling, and devoid of Friends  
Whose riper Arms might help your tender Hand  
To sway the Sceptre: then, what he pretends  
With tolerable Sense perhaps might stand:  
But must your Nonage still go on, and He  
For evermore the Lord Protector be?   

117.  
Now by your honour, mighty queen, 'tis time  
For you no more to think yourself a Child:  
Know your own power, and lose it not in Him  
Who has your credulous Love too long beguiled.  
'Tis no discredit for a Prince to throw  
Away an Error, and with it a Foe.   

118.  
Your Confidence in Him which flames so high,  
Was kindled by his service in the Grove:  
Yet what if that were but a Mystery  
Of deep deceir, and no exploit of Love?  
If Phylax and not Aphrodisius were  
In all that Scene of Charms the Conjurer?   

119.  
Who but the noble Aphrodisius there  
Bravely forgetful of his own life, from  
Immediate Death wide-gaping in the Boar  
Your helpless soul did rescue? And from whom  
Did Phylax 〈◊〉 you, but from his Embrace  
Who your deliverer and your Lover was?   

120.  
And then enraged With shameless spite, to see  
You to another your protection owe,  
Upon the courteous strasngers' Piety  
The powers of magic Malice He did throw:  
How much more Monster was you Phylax there,  
Who made the goodly Knight so foul appear?   

121.  
Yet well it were, if he would only try  
His Charms on Aphrodisius, and for bear  
To exercise on Us his Witchery:  
But We, alas, so Metamorphozed are  
With that Rough-cast of shapes He on Us cleaves,  
That you in your own Subjects He deceives.   

122.  
We seem like Fiends (for Rebels sure are so)  
And monstrous things in your abused Eye:  
Although even Phylax in his Heart doth know  
Our Lives are not so dear as Loyalty  
To honest-meaning Us: And whose was this  
Desperate Enchantment if it were not his?   

123.  
'Tis true, He talks of Love and needs will be  
The Paranymphus of the heavenly spouse:  
But surely I should ken as well as He  
All Mysteries of Love: The whole world knows  
That my Creation only aims at this:  
And is my natural Art less mine than His?   

124.  
That the Etherial Prince makes love to you  
As to the dearest she that treads his Earth,  
I easily grant, because so well I know  
Your Majesty's incomparable Worth.  
But Heaven forbid that I should Him esteem  
So strange a Spouse as Phylax maketh Him.   

125.  
Sure He is King of sweetness and Delight,  
And with more zeal abhors all Tyranny,  
Than Phylax loves it: Sure his gentle Might  
Strives for a correspondent Victory:  
Not all the world shall make Me think that He  
Will ever woo his Spuose by Cruelty.   

126.  
Lents, Embers, Vigils, Groans, Humi-cubations,  
Tears, Pensiveness, disconsolate Privacy,  
Severest Arts of all Mortifications  
Are not conditions required by  
An earthly Suitor; and can Heavn'ly He  
Embitter thus his dear Suits suavity?   

127.  
Can He expect his tender spouse should prove  
Her Loyalty pants with entire affection,  
By nothing but self-hatred? can his Love  
Find no Security but your Destruction?  
Pardon my fear, great Queen, you love not Him  
Whom such a spiteful Lover you can deem.   

128.  
But far be all such Omens hence: Had I  
Or Nature any Glass which could present  
Your total self to your considering Eye;  
The gallant sight would make your heart repent  
This dangerous Heresy, that heavens gentle King  
Would use so harshly such a lovely thing.   

129.  
What is there of Delight, of Love, of Joy,  
Of Grace, of Beauty in this World below  
Or that above, which did escape a way  
From the Creator's fingers, when on you  
Himself he wrote, and bade your Bosom be  
The Vniverse's rich Epitome?   

130.  
But Phylax brews this cruell-flattering Plot,  
Because it is his Rack and Hell to see  
That Fate or Fortune Psyche should allot  
To any Spouse but Him: This makes Him be  
So subtly active in his secret Art  
How he may you and your great Suitor part.   

131.  
O then, first for your own illustrious sake,  
And next, for Us wrapped up in you, beware  
Of his Designs in time: Just courage 〈◊〉  
In what deserves your speediest stoutest Care.  
Nor you nor We can be secure winle He  
Both from your Court and Favour 〈◊〉 be.   

132.  
Nor can your Palace be a dwelling Place  
For safety so long as Logos, or  
Charis, thus revel in your Princely Grace:  
One Edict may 〈◊〉 them all, and far  
From this their 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 Treachery  
Pack them to that foul place where Traitors lie.   

133.  
So shall your royal self securely dwell,  
And your 〈◊〉 undeceived Hand  
Sway its own Sceptre: So shall We dispel  
By pressed obedience unto your Command  
That cause less Error, which upon our Head  
The foul Blot or Rebellion hath spread.   

134.  
So shall our reskewed Liberries appear  
In their own Looks: So We by Love shall do  
More of your Will than disingenuous Fear  
And lawless 〈◊〉 e'er haled Us to.  
So you no more shall marked and dreaded be  
For Rigour, but reign Queen of Clemency.   

135.  
So shall your sweetened Countenance proclaim  
That you love's dear Adventure do profess:  
So shall you court with your Eyes answering Flame  
Your Spouse's beams: So shall His Tenderness  
A soft capacity find in your Heart  
Of his destroying, yet enlivening Dart.   

136.  
Here bowing low, Love sealed up her Lip  
With a Kiss on the ground. But, all together  
A thousand Doubts did rose poor Psyche up  
From one side of her thoughts unto another.  
Three times she opened her mouth; but jealous Fears  
Would suffer Her to speak by nought but Tears.   

137.  
Which when Arenor 〈◊〉: he with his Eye  
Gave 〈◊〉 Commission to speak.  
She, marching forth with port and majesty,  
Loves 〈◊〉 Deceit did somerhing greater make.  
And, Well I know, great Queen, said she, that You  
Much wonder I should come a Treater now.   

138.  
'tis true, you sent me with express Command  
To force the headstrong Rebels back again,  
And make them feel that your illustrious Hand  
Is moderatrix of the 〈◊〉 Rein.  
And I indeed took them for Rehells too;  
So much your Error upon me could do.   

139.  
But when I found their Lovalty as clear  
As Slander feigned it blotted: I who was  
Dispatched by You but as the Officer  
Of Right and Justice, had no power to pass  
My strict Commission: and what need I prove  
What was so solidly confirmed by Love?   

140.  
I must confess, when I had marked that Store  
Of honest Bravery, of which poor they  
Were, with the Senses, robbed; I could no more  
To their provoked Impatience, Treason lay,  
Than unto Tellus, if in chinks she open  
Her Mouth at Sirius who her flowers burns up.   

141.  
Yet they were generous, and unto Me  
The choice of all their choicest Wealth did proffer  
That by my hand it might commended be  
To wait on you: And here their Gift I offer  
If it and them you scorn, yet must not I  
Be guilty of such Inhumanity.   

142.  
Forth with she opened the Scene, whence streamed out.  
The confluence of that gorgeous Fallacy  
Which on her heedless Self before had wrought.  
Strait, as the sweetly-rolling Tide grew high,  
The Stream bore Psyche down; as sudden Light  
Instead of day, seizeth the Eyes with night.   

143.  
Agenor seeing she was dazzled by  
The flash of those Varieties, arose,  
And, while she rubbed and questioned her Eye,  
To the Imposture adds this specious Close:  
Wonder not Madam, but repent that you  
Your Subjects goodly homage scorned till now.   

144.  
I am content the weakness of your Sex  
Be your excuse, if now you can relent  
To ease the yoke which gaulls your Subjects Necks,  
And crown their just Demands with your Consent;  
That Pity I unto their Wrongs did lend,  
To your repent Error I'll extend   

145.  
The love which to mine own Queen seals my heart  
Makes it unto all other Lady's kind:  
For her dear sake I will to you impart  
Rich testimonies of my tender Mind:  
I know she'll thank me when I come at home,  
That in my Mercy I have made you room.   

146.  
Behold my Mine of wealth: From hence will I  
This Peace with precious Tokens consecrate,  
And will hereafter own your Majesty  
As my Confederate: Though prevailing Fate  
Makes me a Martial Prince, I'd rather win  
By sweetness, than by churlish force, a Queen.   

147.  
Then open your Gates. Or if my Kindness be  
A Price room an to buy our Acceptation,  
Tell me but so: I can more easily  
Force than Entreat: This warlike Preparation  
Did with more pains win on itself to make  
This Pause, than it will cost your Fort to take.   

148.  
What help for Psyche now, whom Power drives,  
And Charms allure to her Destruction?  
With heart-misgiving Thoughts a while she strives,  
And struggles how she may not fear the One,  
Nor love the other: But away at last  
Her Resolution, and herself she cast.   

149.  
Vain Son of Dust pull down thy foolish Crest,  
And in this Glass thy feeble Wormship see:  
Who will commit unto thy wavering trust  
Another thing, when by Self-treachery  
Thou yeildest up thy wretched Heart a Prize  
To them whose Power in thy Concession lies?   

150.  
I like the Terms, right noble Sir, she cries,  
And must for ever in my high esteem  
Enshrine and reverence these Courtesies  
Which from your sweet Magnificence do stream.  
Then to the Gate she hasts, and, to begin  
Her thanks, flings it wide open, and calls them in.   

151.  
Agenor sheathed his mighty Sword, and bid  
The Passions all perform what He had done.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Order they first entered;  
〈◊〉 with his swelling Train Himself drew on,  
And seemed to cast a sirly Look aside  
〈◊〉 the Castle Gate was not more wide.   

152.  
With Princely slowness thus marched in at last.  
Her royal Seal He Her desires to set  
To those Conditions which before had past.  
And in a gilded Scroll were ready writ.  
She ran it over with a smiling Eye,  
And strait set seal to her own Misery.   

153.  
Then unto Thelema the Instrument  
She gave, with full Commission to shut  
Her Ports when Charis or when Phylax bent  
Their courses, or their projects thither. But  
For Logos, she consented He should still  
Remain a Prisoner at the Passions Will.   

154.  
With that: My seal to this Pacification  
Agenor cries, this Friendly Kiss shall be:  
Mean while the Passions with joint Acclamation  
Salute their Sovereign's Ear, as courtly He  
Her Lip: And fond she joyed their Noise to hear  
Which all her freedom did in pieces tear.   

155.  
By name she bade them welcome all: but on  
Agenor dwelled her Thanks and Compliment.  
And, sure, said she, what you to day have done  
Proves you to be of that sublime Descent  
From which my Spouse was said alone to spring:  
Who would not swear that you were Peace's King?   

156.  
Power reigns in both His Hands: the Armoury  
Of Heaven, where Thundering Ammunition lies  
In dreadful Store, is His; yet gentle He  
By sweetness loves to gain his Victories.  
And so do you, who for His sake, to Me  
The noblest Prince, and dearest are but Herald   

157.  
Agenor smiled: And, Whosoever I be,  
Replied, sweet Queen, I have no time to show  
More than by this blessed peace, 〈◊〉 what you see,  
This 〈◊〉 of my royal Love to You.  
The World may need Me some where else, and I  
Must not by loitering here, my help deny.   

158.  
Yet if my Aid you should hereafter want,  
Send and inquire at any Prince's Court:  
(And think not that Agenor now 〈◊〉 vaunt,)  
Unto such Inns I make my chief resort.  
Nor fail I of due welcome, for the best  
And Noblest Place is proud of Me its Guest.   

159.  
His Present was two Cabinets: which when  
His Pages had set down, He took his leave  
From her soft lip; through which He breathed in  
What her unwary Heart did not perceive,  
Sly Spirits of Self-love, and Foolish Pride,  
And many mystic swelling things beside.   

160.  
With earnest Courtesy she wooed his Stay,  
But now his deep Design was compassed, He  
With all his gorgeous Train made haste away,  
And leaves her more a Prisoner, than when she  
Was in her Castle close barred up by Fear  
Of them, who now all played the Tyrants there.   

161.  
Each Passion takes her swinge, and does appeal  
To Thelema when any Doubts arise,  
Boldly provoking to the Scroll and Seal  
Which did this public Freedom authorise.  
Thus Noise and Tumult every corner fills  
Of Psyche's court, which all with Revels swells.   

162.  
So when fond Phoebus doting on his Son,  
Resigned his Reins into his childish Hand,  
Th'impatient 〈◊〉 cross the road did run,  
And neither kept the way, nor his Command:  
But in unbrideled Madness with their wheels  
Drew on the World's Confusion at their heels.   

163.  
The Senses too, first sticklers in the Treason,  
Their share of its licentious fruit did reap,  
Perceiving quickly that imprisoned Reason  
No more his rigid Discipline could keep:  
And proudly smiling, what tame Fools were we  
They cried, who did no sooner mutiny!   

164.  
How strange a Monster doth a Kingdom grow  
Where Laws and Sovereignty, the life and health  
Of every heav'n-descended State, must bow  
Unto 〈◊〉 Wills! What Commonwealth  
Can justify its Name, where Subjects may  
Command, and Princes dare not but obey!   

165.  
No Hydra's shape so shapeless is as this,  
Which throws the World back to its breeding Heap,  
The hideous Chaos of preposterousness,  
That tumbles All things in one monstrous Deep,  
And in despite of the well-formed Creation,  
Disjoynts and scatters it quite out of Fashion,   

166.  
Yet reckless Psyche is content to see  
This monstrous Solecism in her own Breast,  
And thinks her Sceptre and herself more free,  
Than when Obedience did her Subjects cast  
Low at the Feet of her Commands, where they  
With reverence and ready Service lay.   

167.  
The silly Rose delighteth thus to be  
Dressed in her fairest Looks and best Attire,  
When round about a churlish Company  
Of Thorns against her Tenderness conspire:  
Upon that Siege of Pikes She smiles doth cast,  
Not dreaming They will murder her at last.   

168.  
Psyche's as jolly, as the Passions wild,  
And means her Joys with those Delights to feed  
With which Agenor's Cabinets were filled:  
Proud Expectation prompts Her there to read  
The Lines of Fate against herself; For she  
In opening them, broached her own Misery.   

169.  
(With such unfortunate Curiosity  
The fatal Box rash Epimetheus opened:  
The trembling Lid for-warned his Hand to be  
Better advised; yet still the Fondling hoped  
For mighty Matters: But the Prize he found,  
Himself, and all the World, in Sorrows drowned.)   

170.  
The first was full of Bracelets, Networks, Tires,  
Rings, Earring, Tablets, Wimples, Hoods, Veils, Laces,  
Lawns, Crisping-pins, Chains, Bonnets, golden Wires,  
Vermilion, pencils, Smiles, Youth, blooming Faces,  
Gloves, Sandals, Girdles, Busks, Suffumigations,  
Powders, Perls, Coronets High-looks, & New-fashions.   

171.  
Silks, Satins, Purples, Sables, Ermyns, Gold  
And Silver by the Loom and Needle taught  
To wed and dwell with Silk which feels no cold.  
Besides all that lay in the bottom fraught  
In ready Coin to pave and make the floor  
Fit for the Feet of that ambitious Store.   

172.  
The next was nothing but th'enameled Case  
Of a large Mirror: Never Crystal did  
Smile with such pureness; Never Lady's Glass  
Its Owners face so sweetly flattered:  
Narcissu's Fountain did with less Delight  
Unto his fair Destruction Him invite.   

173.  
For He in that, and in self-love being drowned,  
Agenor from him took his doting Eyes:  
Proud Jezabells he also scattered found  
Amongst her fragments, and made them his prize.  
Goliahs' stareing Bagins too he got,  
Which He with Pharaoh's all together put.   

174.  
But these being not enough; from Phacton,  
From 〈◊〉, Joab, Nebuchadnezzer,  
From Philip and his World-devouring Son,  
From Scylla, Catiline, Cicero, Pompey, Cesar,  
From Herod, Cleopatra, and Sejanus,  
From Agrippina, and Domitianus,   

175.  
And many Stoics: their high Eyes he pulled;  
Whose proudest Crystal having drained out,  
He blended it in a fair polished Mould;  
Which He filled up with what from Heaven he brought,  
An Extract of those Looks of Lucifer  
In which against his God he breathed War.   

176.  
Then to the North, that glassy Kingdom, where  
Established Frost and Ice for ever reign,  
He sped his course, and meeting Boreas there,  
Prayed Him this liquid Mixture to restrain.  
When lo, as Boreas opened his Mouth, and blew  
Forth his Command, the Humour solid grew.   

177.  
Thus was the Mirror made: and did contain  
The vigour of those self-admiring Eyes  
Agenor's witchcraft into it did straign:  
A dangeroud Juncture of proud Fallacies,  
Which did so highly please its Author's Eye,  
That Kissing it, he named it Philautie.   

178.  
Unhappy Psyche ravished was to see  
The Glass herself upon herself reflect  
With trebled Majesty. The Sun when He  
As by Aurora's roseal Fingers decked,  
Sees not his repercussed Self more fair  
Upon the Eastern Main, than she did here.   

179.  
New Flames were kindled in her sprightful Eye,  
New Roses on her smiling Cheeks were spread,  
New Graces and new Loves did gently fly  
Down with her golden Tresses from her Head,  
New Lilies beautified her dainty Hand,  
New Goodliness her Person did commend.   

180.  
Her cheated Soul sprang through her Eye, and dwelled  
So long upon the Glass that it grew New:  
Such mighty Thoughts, till now, she never felt,  
As up and down her high-swoll'n Fancy flew;  
Which breaking from her Mouth, at length, she cries,  
How long have I been strange to mine own Eyes?   

181.  
Am I that Worm, whom Phylax put in mind  
So oft of Dust and Vileness! Could this face  
These Eyes, these Locks, these Hands, this Person find  
No better credit? Surely now the Case  
Is plain how Aphrodisius came to be  
So hideous: Phylax makes the like of Me.   

182.  
Fool that I was, to dream it could be true  
Which proud He daily preached to my Disgrace:  
Who could believe that I should never view  
Till now, the Wonders of mine own bright face!  
That this ingenuous Glass should tell me more  
Than Phylax, or then Charis did before!   

183.  
No marvel now if heavens Apparent Heir  
Disdains all Beauties that He finds above,  
And, doing right to her that is most fair,  
By stooping down to me exalts his Love:  
I little thought I could so much have shown  
Why this my Head should fit an heavenly Crown   

184.  
Pardon me, o my Eyes that ignorant I  
With brieney Tears so oft have soiled you;  
Had not your Flames by their Divinity  
Secured been, they had been quenched e'er now.  
And pardon Me, sweet Cheeks, I will no more  
Blubber and scald your roses, as before.   

185.  
And you all-lovely Lips no more shall kiss  
The Dust, which foolish I took for your Mother.  
The Tribe of Oriental Rubies is  
Your precious Kindred: nor must any other  
Sip the soft Nectar which in you doth live  
But that dear Kiss my Spouse to me shall give.   

186.  
Nor shall rude Usage rob thee of thy due  
My gentle Body; All Hair-cloths farewell,  
My liberal Tresses Hair enough can show:  
And by this Girdle Heaven did plainly tell  
What other Furniture would suit me best  
When with this Siege of Gems it gird my Waste.   

187.  
And since thy Cabinets Wardrobe Challenges  
My proudest choice, I wish thyself were here  
Royal Agenor, to behold how these  
Fair Limbs of mine would quit themselves, and wear  
In worthy Triumph thy best Jewels, which  
Shall by my purer beams themselves enrich.   

188.  
This said: Love who stood fawning by her side,  
Her delicate Service offered to dress  
Her high-conceited Queen in equal Pride.  
A purple Mantle, fringed with Stateliness,  
Embroidered with Ambition, laced round  
With Vanity she in the Cabinet found:   

189.  
About her this she casts; then for her neck  
And wrists, three Bracelets of bright Gems she chose,  
A sparkling Coronet her head to deck,  
To trim her feet, a pair of silver shoes,  
A Crisping-pin to multiply her hair,  
Spruce Lawn to make her breast, though clothed, bare.   

190.  
Whilst she with these and other Rarities  
Builds up her Pomp: The gaudy Queen delights  
To see by what rich steps her Beauties rise;  
For to the Glass whose multiplying sleights  
Flattered her Error to so proud a pitch,  
Her Joyous Folly still her Eyes did reach.   

191.  
Then rising slowly up, as she before  
Had seen Agenor move from his high throne;  
She traversed, but scorned to see, the floor,  
Or any of the Passions who looked on.  
Only she turned her vainglorious Head  
Upon the Glass her walking Self to read.   

192.  
Which Lesson pleased Her so well, that she  
Got it by heart, and yet must read again,  
Insatiably coveting to see  
The Pomp in which her Looks and Clothes did reign:  
And tickled with herself, she wished that now  
Her Spouse would come and visit her below.   

193.  
The cunning Passions seeing her enhance  
Her looks and gate, did in compliance bow,  
And at the feet of her new Arrogance  
Themselves and all their treacherous homage throw:  
Which, though she liked, yet she scorned too,  
And taught Acceptance with Disdain to go.   

194.  
But now her Home was grown too narrow to  
Contain her Greatness; She abroad must ride,  
That other Eyes to her may reverence do  
Who now could prove herself heavens worthy Bride,  
And justly might display her beams in this  
Low world, as in the upper He spreads His.   

195.  
An open Chariot she calls for: and  
That with due state and speed her wheels might run,  
Eight of her stoutest Passions does command  
To bend their Necks, and put the Harness on.  
They soon obeyed, wishing no less to be  
Abroad, and troth about the World, than she.   

196.  
When lo Syneideses, who all this while  
Had in a silent Corner watched her Queen,  
Accosts her in an unexpected Style,  
And catching fast hold on her Arm, What mean  
You by this haste? Here is another Glass  
Said she, for you to view before you pass.   

197.  
Behold these Eyes of mine: a Mirror where  
Dwells no Deceit, nor Charm, nor Flattery:  
You are true Psyche here, and only here,  
In this Reflection of Verity:  
I never yet abused you; and why  
Must that false Glass be trusted, and not I?   

198.  
With indignation Psyche turned her head,  
And left Scorn for Syneideses; but she  
Who knew not to be daunted, followed  
Her Eye with faithful Importunity;  
And made her see, in spite of her Disdain,  
How both It, and herself did strive in vain.   

199.  
The Passions wondered at her Boldness; But  
She is a Witch, impatient Psyche cries,  
And hath the strength of all Enchantments set  
Thick in the Glasses of her monstrous Eyes,  
Which have such power on mine, that there's no gap  
Where from their conjuring Circles I may scape.   

200.  
Behold how gross a Lie of Ougliness  
They throw upon my Face, there to outface  
The truth of all those beauteous lines which dress  
My royal Looks with Prince-becoming Grace.  
Surely myself I would revenge upon.  
Myself, if I indeed were such a One.   

201.  
Was Eye e'er frighted with so foul an Heap  
Of angry Blisters, as those Starers make  
O'er all my Skin! I challenge any Deep  
Upon whose face the Winds most freedom take,  
To show so many Billows, as in Me,  
O no; as in this lying Shape you see.   

202.  
Improvident Witch, why couldst thou not as well  
Have charmed my Touch, as thou hast done mine Eyes?  
Why didst thou leave these Finger's Power to feel  
And to convict thee of thy Forgeries?  
Their Tumours are not yet so sore, but still  
Thy Witchery they can restrain, and will.   

203.  
Upon her Throat forthwith her Left Hand flew,  
Having with furious Vengeance armed her Right,  
With which upon the Maiden's Eyes she threw  
The vehemence of Her intended Spite;  
Hoping to break her Classes, that their Crack  
Might let these Blisters out they seemed to make.   

204.  
But stout Syneideses composed was  
Of Mettle as secure and brave as she;  
And though her Eyes did wear the Looks of Glass  
They borrowed nothing but its Purity:  
Had they been brittle too, they had been broke;  
But now they bore and smiled at the Stroke.   

205.  
This fetch't a secret sigh from Psyche, who  
Call d for a Veil as thick and black as Night.  
And this at least; said she, the Deed shall do,  
And bury those bold Monsters from my sight:  
Then on Syneideses she cast it, and  
Tied it full fast by an hardhearted Band.   

206.  
O miserable Privilege, that Man  
Should able be to muffle up that Sight  
Which shows Him to Himself, and only can  
Through Rocks & Shelves point out his Course aright!  
Unhappy strength! the feeblest Weakness is  
Nothing so weak and faint a thing as this.   

207.  
Proud of this self-destroying Conquest, to  
Her Chariot Psyche hasts: whose Coursers from  
Her scornful Eyes their own inflamed so,  
That they with correspondent Pride did foam:  
With bended Necks, and sparkling Looks they ran,  
Disdaining all the ground they trod upon.   

208.  
Thus swimming over Hills and Dales and Plains,  
She came unto a simple Ermites' Cell:  
There she plucked in her fierce Teems loser Reins,  
To see what Worm in that poor hole did dwell:  
When busy at his Roots and Herbs close by  
An aged Homespun Man she did espy.   

209.  
To whom she cries, Alas vain wretched thing,  
Is this a time for thee to cultivate?  
What has thy Winter now to do with Spring,  
Who art already bowing to thy Fate!  
E'en delve no more for Roots: that labour save,  
And for thy other foot go dig the grave.   

210.  
The honest Ermite when he well had viewed  
Her scornful Pity, thus replied: I  
For your Commiseration would have sued,  
Had I esteemed my labour, Misery:  
But I can well spare you your Pomp and Ease,  
Me Poverty and Pains do better please.   

211.  
A Coach once waited on my Idleness,  
Being my House abroad, when Home I left:  
But now I travel far enough on these  
Old Feet, and fear no Fall: that stately shift  
Of Borrowing Legs of Beasts, to Me is grown  
Needless, since Nature fits Me with mine own.   

212.  
These Vanities, and all the rest, which are  
Attendants on superfluous Wealth, I threw  
A way, with it: and that in time, for fear  
It would have served Me so; for well I knew  
That Riches were but glorious Vexations,  
Sins catching Fuel, Plunders Invitations.   

213.  
Then took I Sanctuary in that Cell,  
Which has more room to spare for Heaven and God,  
Than had my spacious Palace, which did swell  
With secular burly Things. In this Abode  
I find my Haven, where un-disturbed I  
Far from the World's loud Storms, at anchor lie.   

214.  
This spot of Ground, the Scoff of your high Eyes,  
By pleasant Pains I make restore to Me  
What carelessness had lost, sweet Paradise:  
No Bait smiles here on a forbidden Tree;  
Nor in these Herbs doth any Serpent sneak  
Them to enyenome, or my Safety check.   

215.  
My serious Labours and my ridgid Fear  
Fright hence the tender Sons of Luxury,  
Distempers and Diseases; Guests which are  
Fed at the Board of Superfluity.  
In health and vigour I can night and day  
Trade with my Maker, and my Prayers say.   

216.  
He, though no wanton Baths have softened  
My careless Skin, which tanned and rough you see;  
Though all my weeds be of a rural Thread,  
Spun by Neglect, and by Simplicity;  
Esteems nor Me, nor my Condition poor,  
Because I build my Hopes upon his Store.   

217.  
His royal Store, which (since this World below  
So narrow was) fills heavens vast Treasury:  
And till the Sons of Dust and Ashes grow  
As high as that, in vain they look to be  
Enriched by it. But there's a Way by which  
We Dwarves to that Sublimity may reach.   

218.  
A strange Way, which does by Desentions Wings  
Teach Us to soar: These Contrarieties  
Into the field not only Nature brings,  
But Grace with opposite Cures meets Maladies.  
Pride threw Us down, when we were perched high,  
Our ladder to get up's Humility.   

219.  
Humility, that Art ennobled by  
His own Profession whom all heavens adore:  
Himself He Lowest made, who was most High,  
And of the Richest King, became most Poor;  
By his Example teaching Us that We  
Must only by Rebound exalted be.   

220.  
Psyche with great contention deigned to hear  
Him hitherto, but could endure no more.  
What Pitty'tis, said she, that now thy Beer  
Hath long stood waiting for thee at thy Door,  
Thou art no Wiser yet! this sign doth show  
Thy Dotage is past Help; Poor wretch, adieu.   

221.  
Then with relaxed Rein admonishing  
Her smoking Steeds; They snatched her Coach away  
With sparkling foaming fervour, copying  
Her hasty indignation, until they  
Drew near the City; where their pace they bate,  
Marching in statelier slowness to the Gate.   

222.  
The People gazed upon her as she passed  
And filled the Street with Wonder: Every Eye  
It's foolish homage in her way did cast.  
And by that Admiration raise more high  
Her tumid Looks, who had the more to scorn,  
The more Spectators did her way adorn.   

223.  
For whilst some praised the Coach, and some the Steeds,  
And all her Person who road Queen of them:  
With careless Looks Contempt about she spreads  
Both on their Admiration, and on them.  
She loved the Honour, yet loved to despise  
What in her own esteem was her best prize.   

224.  
So when a burly Tempest rolls his Pride  
About the World though mighty Cedars bow,  
Though Seas give way unto his greater Tide,  
Though Mountains lay their proudest heads full low  
Before his feet, yet still He roars amain,  
And rusheth on in blustering Disdain.   

225.  
On many Palaces her Eye she cast,  
But yet could not vouchsafe to view them long:  
At last contemning all she saw, she pressed  
With insolent fierceness through the gazing Throng,  
Crying, These Cottages can afford no room  
For Psyche's Entertainment: I must Home.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO VI The Humiliation.  
ARGUMENT.  

HEr heavenly Friends by soule-subduing Art  
Recover Psyche from her shameful Glory:  
And sure to seal upon her softened Heart  
Religious Meekness, Phylax tells the Story  
Of her immortal all-producing Spouse;  
And than her own original Vileness shows.   

1.  
BUt what is Home unto unhappy Her  
Whose only Castle is surrendered to  
A Pack of Rebels who resolved were  
To use the licence of their Conquest so  
That she should in her own Dominion  
Have no power left her, but to be undone?   

2.  
She might have safelier called all Tempests in,  
And to the loudest Winds fet open her Gate,  
Or given her Key to Bears and Tigers; then  
To those more dangerous Beasts, whose fair-tongued hate  
Does work by this Prerogative, that they  
By Honey poison, by Embraces slay.   

3.  
Flat Enemies are honest harmless Things  
Because they tell Us what We have to fear:  
But double-hearted Friends, whose Blandishing  
Tickle our Ears, but sting our bosoms, are  
Those dangerous Sirens, whose sweet maiden face  
Is only mortal Treasons burnished Glass.   

4.  
These are the Pits whose mouths with flowers spread  
Sweetly invite our Feet unto a Fall:  
The golden Cups, whose Lips are sugeted  
To the dissembled Poison ours to call:  
The crafty Hooks, which in a dainty Bait  
To catch the Liquorish Palate lie in wait.   

5.  
These are those flattering Pipes whose wily Tune  
Enchants the silly Birds into the Net:  
These are those fragrant Beds of fair-looked June  
With smiling Roses and with Lilies set,  
Where th' unsuspecting Gardener to surprise  
By fatal sleight, perdu the Serpent lies.   

6.  
These are those Delilahs whose weeping Eye,  
Whose sighs, whose Kisses, whose Embraces be  
The truer Withs, and Ropes, and Web, where-by  
They bind the stoutest sampson's on their knee;  
Where while they hope to rest, they polled are  
At once both of their Liberty and Hair.   

7.  
These are the politic Hyena's who  
Make bloody Thirst in humane Accents speak;  
And with such sweet Hypocrisy can woo  
The heedless Swain compassion to take,  
That to his Foe his door he openeth,  
And in fond Pity letteth in his Death,   

8.  
These are those Judas', whose Lips can drop  
The honey of a friendly Salutation,  
And with a Kiss seal the soft bargain up;  
Though in their Hearts a traitorous Conjuration  
Lies rankilin, and they study how they may  
In Looks and Words of Love, their God betray.   

9  
And surely Psyche by this Treason had  
Been cheated of her life and self, if He  
Who in his Judas trial of it made,  
Had lent no Pity to her Misery;  
Had Jesu's tender Goodness not out-rid  
His faithless Spouse who now from Him was fled.   

10.  
Charis and Phylax He a while withdrew,  
That being left unto herself, she might  
Of her own Weakness take convincing view  
When she occasion had, and cause to fight.  
But now He sends them back to help Her down  
From the high Ruin where He saw her thrown.   

11.  
Make haste, said He; my Love, and Her Distress  
Call for your speed 〈◊〉 To you full power I give  
To ease Her of that wretched Mightiness  
Before it split her Heart; to undeceive  
Her cheated Soul, and shrink it till it be  
Little enougn to fit my Heaven and Me.   

12.  
They having thrice adored his Footstool, flew  
Upon the wings of Thought through every Sphere:  
No Lightning ever made more haste to view  
The East and West at once, than this swift Pair  
Of earnest Messengers; or with more Light  
Did all Spectators startled Eyes affright.   

13.  
For when the Passrons saw them darting near,  
Immediate Terror upon them did seize:  
Down fell their changed Looks and Necks; though Fear  
Was left at home, she present seemed in these,  
The suddennesle made Psyche too afraid  
And both her Courage and her Chariot stayed.   

14.  
But though the first Assault of Lightning be  
Pointed with Dread and Awe; the second does  
Break forth with more abated Majesty  
And (in our Eyes at least,) some Brightness loose.  
Custom, though young and breeding, yet can make  
The dint and edge of any strangeness slake.   

15.  
Both Psyche and her Steeds did soon recover  
Some sense and spirits of their boiling Pride,  
When the first glimpse of those new Beams was over;  
But chiefly she swelled to so high a Tide  
Of Confidence, as to presume Her Streams  
Would now repulse the Torrent of their Beams.   

16.  
To both her reverend Friends she doth dispense  
Her frowns, and lowring-loathing Looks, and by  
That silent Language of Impatience  
Her changed Mind and sullen Thoughts descry.  
But when she saw them full resolved, she cries,  
I thought you would have understood mine Eyes.   

17.  
Lo here my Tongue interprets them: You are  
As much mistaken now in Psyche, as  
She heretofore in You; I must and dare  
Tell you your own: Your treacherous Counsel has  
Too long bewitched my tender credulous Heart:  
Henceforth you may for evermore depart.   

18.  
The saucy Coursers with ears pricked up high  
Caught that proud Answer as from her it flew,  
And neighing in tumultuous jollity,  
With aggravation of Defiance threw  
It in the faces of the heavenly Pair;  
And then they kicked, and flung, and snuffed the Air.   

19  
But Phylax standing in Her Coache's way,  
Lift up his Hand and Wing and kept her back,  
Crying much louder than her Steeds could neigh:  
Yet e'er you go vouchsafe to hear me speak;  
Though I your Enemy be, you need not fear  
Now you have learned that, my Words to hear.   

20.  
This nettled Thelema, who Postilion was,  
And had inflamed the Coursers all the way;  
She bent her scornful Brow, and cried, Alas  
Can Phylax think I will his Rub obey,  
Who ride where e'er I list, and never meet  
With Mount, or World, which stops my Horse's feet?   

21.  
With that she checked her Fiery courser [and  
This Anger was, the most outrageous Steed,]  
Who with curvets straight answered her Hand,  
And aimed to snatch her way o'er Phylax's head.  
Three times she leaped, as often falling back,  
Till with her Bones she heard the Chariot Crack.   

22.  
For Phylax having thither reached a Ray  
Of mystic power, seized on the Axletree,  
Which with a splitting groan at length gave way,  
And by the voice of its fragility  
Admonish d all the Coach, that Ruin now  
Meant to ride there, and Psyche out would throw   

23.  
And true the warning was: for either Wheel,  
The Barrs, the Pillars, Seat, Side, Back, and Head  
Shattered forth with into confusion, feel  
How 〈◊〉 the Axels Fatal preface led  
Them to their Tragedy, which now no more  
Can own their several Names as heretofore.   

24.  
'Tis all but one rude Heap: upon whose back  
Lies Psyche something bruised with the Fall;  
But wounded more to see who made that Crack,  
And raised that Pile as for her funeral.  
She scorns to take Him for an equal Foe,  
But swells, and puffs, and knows not what to do.   

25.  
He, in her sullen Eye observing well  
The troubled Motions of 〈◊〉 smoking Heart,  
And more than her own Tongue knew how to tell;  
Pitied the sadness of her wilful Smart:  
And, for compliance, her own course he took,  
Speaking not by his Mouth, but by his Look.   

26.  
This is the Dialect of strongest Love,  
Which, when the fruitless Tongue had said her Say,  
With soul-commanding Power doth plead, and prove  
That Eloquence doth reign in Eyes; that they  
Who to the bottom of the Heart would speak,  
In Looking Lines must their Orations make.   

27.  
His serious Aspect upon Her was bend  
Composed of angry love, and mild disdain;  
Expressive were the Glances which He sent,  
And every Word that darted forth, was plain:  
Some Rays grew hot and stoutly chid, but others  
With melting Pity mollified their Brothers.   

28.  
O what a long long Story ran He over  
In this short ocular Discourse! how fast  
Did He her bosom and his own discover,  
And what of old, and what of late had passed,  
And what was dawning, if she still went on  
With obstinate confidence to be undone.   

29.  
But she would not this language understand  
Because the Speaker she before despised:  
She proudly looked, and coily waved her hand,  
Telling him by those signs, she was advised  
So well of what she did, that He might go  
And somewhere else his scorned Pains bestow.   

30.  
Mean while, as Thelema, and her bruised Steed  
Biteing their own lips, and the ground, did lie;  
Charis her sweetest Powers had mustered  
To force the Damsel from her Misery.  
And, See, said she, when it was grown so tall,  
How suddenly your Pride hath caught a Fall.   

31.  
Yet this is not the Bottom, but a Step  
Unto that Ruin whither you did ride.  
O did you know how black and vast a Deep  
Gapes in your Journeys End, you would have died  
A thousand other Deaths, much rather than  
Have posted thus to plunge into that one.   

32.  
Here with her Wand she struck upon the Earth:  
Strait Tellus heard the Knock, and opened her Door;  
When lo a Night of Smoke came stinking forth,  
And then a dusky Day of Fire: the Roar  
Of that great Crack made surly Thelema start,  
And summoned Psyche too, to see her part.   

33.  
For though Dread shook their Souls, They deemed it  
Scorn to confess their fear and run away.  
Their adamantine stomach will not let  
Their lives be longer precious: still they stay.  
Not out of curious Desire to see,  
But, to outface the hideous Prodigy.   

34.  
The monstrous Jaws of the wide-gaping Pit  
With baneful soot were lined thick: Beneath  
Incensed Sulphur flashing Wrath did spit,  
From whence a Cloud of heavy Groans did breath  
Forth sad confession Who below did dwell:  
These Proofs authentik were to speak it Hell.   

35.  
Plunged in the gloomy Caverns Centre were  
A woeful Rout mingled with smoke and Fire;  
Abiram, Corah, Dathan fried there,  
With Peleths' venturous Sonn, who did conspire  
To raise that old Combustion, which now  
Concluded is in their own Flames below.   

36.  
Their howling Wives and shreiking Children lay  
Broiling about them, and desired in vain  
One drop of Water after dying They  
Had burned so long in their still-living Pain:  
Their Tears dropped thick, but mocked them by their store,  
And only scaled their Cheeks which flamed before.   

37.  
As The lema stood doubting at the sight,  
Behold this last Preferment Charis cried,  
To which Ambition doth fond men invite:  
Is it not petty that thou didst not ride  
Thy Journey out; and am not I thy Foe  
Who down this fair Hill would not let thee go?   

38  
Thou seest that arrogant Brood of Rebels there  
Who were too high to stoop to heavenly law:  
Yet to their reckless Passions lent their Ear,  
And rather than to God, to them would bow.  
Moses and Aaron whom they kicked at there,  
Nothing but Phylax are and Charis here.   

39  
Moses and Aaron did usurp too much,  
And bore their tyrannising Heads too high.  
And was not our Indictment only such,  
When Love drew up our Charge! We were not by  
I grant; but yet He was, whose Vengeance now  
Feeds on your proud Agenor's heart below.   

40.  
Observe that Fiend who holds fell Chorah's chain,  
Himself bound in a greater: He knows why  
He gathers up his Tails ashamed Train  
And steals it round about his scaley Thigh.  
Ask but his Looks, and they will tell you plain  
What spot it is which them with Gild doth slain.   

41.  
This high-swollen mountain of Deformity  
Once vieed with Beauty's self, by's borrowed Face:  
But now uncased in his cursed sty,  
His shape is correspondent to his place.  
Here you see what without a Lie is His,  
This your illustrious Agenor is.   

42.  
Hearing this Word, the tumid Fiend did split  
His overcharged mouth, and vomit out  
A stream of brimstone, belching after it  
More horrid Cries; which bellowed about  
His hollow Home, but finding it too narrow,  
Into the Air let lose his thundering Sorrow.   

43.  
It shaked the Earth, as through her sides it broke,  
And something startled Psyche who stood by,  
But Thelema disdained the Terrors stroke,  
Coufuting it with her all-dareing Eye.  
She knew her strength authentik was, and still  
Resolved what e'er it cost, to have her Will.   

44.  
Thus when a wilful Heir to age is come,  
And in his own Hand feels the golden Rein  
Of his long-wished Revenues; if by some  
Well-practised spendthrift he be taught to drain  
His overflowing Bags, in vain his Friends  
Show him how Poverties Ebb that Tide attends.   

45.  
But trusty Charis well remembering what  
Her Masters love commanded, plies her part:  
And, seeing Fears Darts were repulsed, she shot  
The shafts of Love into the Virgin's heart,  
Which in a diamond Case from Heaven she brought,  
With many other precious Powers fraught.   

46.  
Strong were the Blows, and opened themselves the way  
Unto the bottom of their Mark, but sweet  
Withal and silent. Thus the noble Ray  
Shot from the Sun's Eye, doth no sooner beat  
Upon the crystal Ball, but with soft force  
Quite through & through it takes its harmless course.   

47.  
On Thelema's soul the gallant Arrows wrought  
With blessed wounds of heav'n-begotten Joy:  
Yet she with such perverse resistanee fought,  
That had but Charis known how to be coy,  
She would have spared her pains, and left the Maid  
By her own stubborn Victory betrayed.   

48.  
But she as obstinate was in Patience,  
And many a dear time shot and shot again:  
Until at length the strokes begat some sense  
Of a 〈◊〉 and convincing pain;  
With which pierced through, now I must, I see  
Cried Thelema, by this Sweetness conquered be.   

49.  
I know I need not yield, except I will;  
But this soul-plying Violence, which so  
Severely sweet through all my wounds doth thrill,  
Enforceth Me to force myself to go  
With that she louted low, and on her knee  
Beg d pardon for her pertinacity.   

50.  
O noble Virtue of immortal Grace!  
How uncontrolled is its dainty Art,  
Which can a Bosom of itself uncase,  
And teaeh the Heart how to subdue the Heart.  
Which gains unbloody Bays and Triumphs thus,  
In delicately conquering Us by Us!   

51.  
So when into the Swains unwary Foot  
The venomous earnest of a swelling Death  
Is from the treacherous Tarantula shot,  
Music's sweet Accents wisely tempered, breathe  
A mystic Antidote, which by delight  
Deceives the poison, and charms out its Might.   

52.  
But Psyche seeing Thelema relent,  
Knew her own Stomaches power would swell in vain,  
And judged it policy now to recant,  
And her old potent Friends anew to gain.  
Her useless Arrogance away she threw,  
And after it three deep drawn sighs she blew.   

53.  
That thus ejected; Shame and Modesty,  
Of their ingenuous Home took fresh possession,  
And in 〈◊〉 purple Cheek and gloomy E e  
Displayed a 〈◊〉 of penitent Confession:  
Then, as her Pride had 〈◊〉 her up before  
Above herself, these cast her on the floor.   

54.  
'Twas easier now for her to weep than speak;  
Yet striking stiffly on her guilty breast,  
Unto her stifling grief a way she broke,  
And helped this Lamentation out at last:  
O turn from shameful Psyche your pure Eye;  
Leave Me alone to perish where I lie.   

55.  
Or let your Justice plunge Me down into  
That mouth of Torment which gapes for Me there;  
That I may to my loved Agenor go,  
Whose Lies before your Truths I did prefer.  
Sure Corah and his damned Company  
Take not up all the room; there's some for Me.   

56.  
'Twas more than Death to Me to view the face  
Of my too-late-beleeved Synedeses,  
Though she presented in her trusty Glass  
The faithful Copy of my Hideousness.  
But in your Lustres dint what shall I do!  
No veil has night enough to smother you.   

57  
O! that intolerable Purity  
Of your celestial Looks I cannot bear:  
Pride has so tainted my unhappy Eye  
That all unspotted Spectacles I fear;  
For they my Torments are, and burn Me so,  
That to a cooler Hell I fain would go.   

58.  
This woeful Outcry grated Charis Heart,  
Want not to bruise but heal the broken Reed:  
She knew what Lenitives would tame that Smart,  
Yet gave no more than for the present Need,  
Leaving the perfect Cure awhile: For She  
Knew well how wholesome longer Grief would be.   

59  
Mean time the rampant Passions were strayed,  
〈◊〉 in wild Madness roved all about:  
When Thelema before by them betrayed,  
Revenged that Treachery, and by a stout  
Command, unto their Duties called them back.  
The whole Field at the awful Voice did quake.   

60.  
They started all, and straight of one another  
Did mutual Counsel ask with doubting Eye:  
But after that first Call, out broke its Brother,  
And thundered with imperious Majesty:  
When looking back, they spied their Mistress' Hand  
Lifted up high, which spoke a third Command.   

61.  
They knew these Summons did in earnest call,  
And always had disdained to be denied:  
This forced their unwilling Crests to fall  
And into slavish Trembling turned their Pride  
When angry Thelema snatched up the Reins,  
And thenceforth of their Harness made their Chains.   

62.  
So when the Master shakes his dreadful Rod  
High in the view of his extravagant Boys,  
Who trovanting were, and rambling all abroad;  
Their loath Adieu they bid unto their Toys,  
And trembling into School, expect when they  
The price of their Extravagance should pay.   

63.  
But then she stoutly lashed her shivering Teem  
Unto the Lip of that dread mouth of Hell,  
Where their late General she showed them  
Tearing his Fiendship He could not conceal.  
Which Sight, them & all treacherous Itchings parted  
And through their Souls immortal Terror darted.   

64.  
This Act performed: they all remove the Stage  
To Psyche's house; in which their Passage she  
Beheld the lately-scorned Ermitage  
With reverend blushing: But when pious He  
Who reigned King of Himself and It, espied  
This blessed Change, He sat him down and cried.   

65.  
He cried for Joy, and answered Psyche's tears,  
Which multiplied with every Step she took:  
Himself had been acquainted many Years  
With noble Charis; and in's heavenly Look  
He read who Phylax was, for such a Friend  
Did from his Birth till now on Him attend.   

66.  
What they had done, his Wisdom well could guess,  
When he the surly Queen dejected saw:  
Her frowns, her 〈◊〉, her coach, her stateliness  
Were vanished all, and she so Humble now  
That by Agenor's and heavens help she seems  
In one day to have reached both Extreems.   

67.  
Full many a Blessing did the Good Man pour  
On Charis and on Phylax as they went:  
But to his loving Lord He pants out more,  
Who them down to that great Exploit had sent:  
Good Wishes after Psyche He did throw,  
Following Her steps as far's his Eye could go.   

68  
Heroic Charity, how soon dost thou  
Subdue all Wrongs Contempt can shoot at thee:  
And freely bless the Day which doth bestow  
Happy Success on thy proud Enemy!  
Right noble is thy Valour, which alone  
Can make thy Foes good Fortune be thine own,   

69.  
But they now to their Journey's period come,  
Psyche with her stiff Sighs blew open the Gate;  
And with a sad Eye viewing her fair Home,  
Thought every Wall did chide for what of late  
She trespassed there; and that at every Groan  
The Echo cried, she had herself undone.   

70.  
Up to her Chamber she as loath did go  
As Thief unto the Cell where He has hid  
His wicked Goods: Yet they would have it so  
Who from Self-theft had Her delivered.  
But two deep Groans, as up the Stayrs they went  
Summoned their Eyes to search whence they were sent.   

71.  
Close in the Stayr-case a sly Trap-door was  
Which kept its counsel with Bar, Lock, and Seal;  
Where as they stood considering the place,  
Two other Groans did to their Aid appeal:  
When Thelema convinced by Shame and Fear,  
Broke open the Door to show them who were there.   

72.  
Deep was the Dungeon, and as dark as Night  
When neither Moon nor Star befriend the Sky:  
But Charis looking in, an highnoon Light  
Through all that Blackness streamed from her Eye.  
When lo, Syneideses, and Logos tied  
Fast in the bottom of the Mire they spied.   

73.  
Down Phylax flies, and hover over them  
(For no Dirt may deflower his Virgin Wings,)  
Unties their Cords; and by their Mantles Him  
Up to the Dungeons Mouth, them gently brings.  
Full thick about them stuck the mire and clay;  
Yet Psyche thought herself more foul than they   

74.  
And falling on them with a Shower of Tears,  
These soon, said she, may wash your Spots away;  
But my deep-grained Pollution out-dares  
The power of Oceans: You besmeared lay  
Only in others Stains, but hideous I  
With mine own Blots all over blurred lie.   

75.  
O add no stings unto my Anguish by  
Denying Pardon of my mad offence:  
Saw you but half the Flames in which I fry,  
The sight would thaw your breasts, and kindle sense  
Of my sufficient Woe. But Charis here  
Stepped in, and bade her those Complaints defer.   

76.  
Then She conducts her to her Chamber; where  
No sooner entered, They the Mirror spy:  
Which straight grew pale, and quaked for guilty fear  
At the bright Dawn of genuine Purity.  
So Phantoms and Night-fires away do sneak,  
When from the East the gallant Day doth break.   

77.  
Phylax unto the Sight drew Psyche nigh,  
But she quaked more than that, and started back:  
When lo, said He, this Glass, though framed to lie,  
Now of itself shall true confession make;  
Urge it but with the Touch of any Gem  
Whose Place is meanest in thy Girdles Hem.   

78.  
O noble Power of Heavenly Gifts! The Glass  
Remembered quickly its original Eyes,  
And weeped to see how all its Beauty was  
Dissolved by one short Touch: its Fallacies  
Flowed down apace, till all the floor did swim  
With a prodigious Lake of loathsome slime.   

79.  
A slime which smelled so rank of Death, that had  
Not Charis stepped 'twixt Psyche and the Harm,  
'T had choked her heart: but that Assistance made  
Her spirits cheer, and kept her Courage warm.  
Secured thus, Take one more drop, she cried,  
And spitting on the slime; she turned aside;   

80.  
Aside unto the other Cabinet,  
And look, dear Friends, said she, for much I fear  
Some foul Enchantment here doth hatch its Plot,  
And that these Treasures in false shapes appear,  
They are Agenor's Gifts: how can his Pelf  
Be made of truer Beauties than himself!   

81.  
You know your Touchstone, Phylax cries, but lay  
Your Girdle on it, and it will confess;  
That Item she no sooner did obey,  
But straight her Touch was answered with an Hiss:  
The Chains and 〈◊〉 started up, and now  
No Nest of Jewels, but of snakes, did show.   

82.  
In the spruce Networks woven was a Fry  
Of younger Serpents which lay hampered there,  
And shamed and vexed by this discovery  
Whetted their peevish Teeth, and tried to tear  
Open their Knots; but when they felt the By't  
Dig their own backs, they angry Poison spit.   

83.  
The Tires and Hoods shrunk into Horns: the Rings  
Dilated into fetters; every Lace  
Like scorched Thongs, or some such shrivelled Things,  
Acknowledged through what flame it used to pass.  
The gaudy Bonnets, and the dainty Veils  
Were nothing now but brass or iron scales.   

84.  
The Crisping-Pinns returned to Forks and Hooks,  
And Tongues, and Prongs; the Lawns to Dragon's Wings:  
The golden Wires abjured their glorious looks,  
And now were red hot Nails, or Darts, or stings:  
The Busks were Gags; the Gloves were fiery Claws,  
The Tablets, Boils; the Sandales, Tigers Paws.   

85.  
The Perls were Coals; the Coronets, Wreaths of fire;  
The brisk Vermilion was Blood or Ink;  
The pencils, Rods of ever-burning Wire;  
The Powders, Brimstone; the Perfumes, a stink;  
The Smiles were Frowns, the youth, and blooming cheeks  
Were hideous Wrinkles, and stern Vultures beaks.   

86.  
The High-looks, were Despairs & shames; the Fashions  
Were several Inventions of spite,  
And never-dying Tortures Variations;  
The Silks and Satins, skins of Asps; the bright  
Purple, a Lions or a Panthers Hide  
In innocent Blood of slaughtered Infants died.   

87.  
The Ermines and the Sables, were the skins  
Which monstrous Cerberus casteth thrice a year:  
The rich embroideries were Rows of Pinns  
Pointed with steely Torment and Dispair;  
The silver and the Gold that lay below  
Were Rust and Cankers, which themselves did gnaw.   

88  
These several dreadful Sights, stroke Psyche through  
With full as many Fears; and back she ran.  
But Phylax stopped her, and demanded how  
She dared those gay Things trust which she had on?  
They too, are of the same foul Breed, said He;  
And will you still with Hell arrayed be?   

89.  
With that He snatched from Her whatever Pride  
On her abused Body had obtruded,  
She with sad indignation having eyed  
The hellbred Robes, cried out, O selfe-deluded  
And justly wretched Soul, that mine own Fist  
(And here she struck) could pierce this treacherous breast.   

90.  
A noble Struck it was; and broke its way,  
It's happy Way, quite through unto her heart.  
Forthwith a coal-black Stream, which swelling lay  
And belching there, took warning to depart:  
Out flew the Poison reaking on the ground,  
Which splitting, to its Hell its way it found.   

91.  
Delivered of its monstrous Guest, the Wound  
Closed gently up, and further Harm shut out.  
But both her sides so loose and lank she found  
That for herself within herself she sought,  
And stood a while amazed, as if the Stroke  
Had only some Dreams brittle Wonders broke.   

92.  
Confounded then with pious Shame, unto  
Her former sober Weeds she turned aside:  
Whose simple honest Looks rebuked her so  
That strait she staggered back again, and cried,  
Remembering how she them disdained, which now  
Fairer than all Agenor's Pomp did show.   

93.  
At length she came and with a doleful Voice,  
Give leave, she said, my genuine Furniture  
That once again I make my prudent choice,  
Which henceforth shall for ever more endure.  
Or, if again I scorn your Poverty,  
From Hell's soul Wardrobe may I clothed be.   

94.  
Come trusty Hair-cloths, you did never yet  
Fool me out of myself by garish Pride:  
Come honest Rope, thou never yet didst let  
Ambition blister me, but gird'st my side  
Close to my heart, and left'st no Room between  
For puffing strutting Thoughts to harbour in.   

95.  
So; now I'm dressed indeed: How shamelessly  
Have I all naked wandered up and down!  
No Nakedness to that in heavens pure Eye  
With which Sin clotheth Us: Thus overgrown  
With Leprosy the Man more naked is,  
Then when bare Nothing but his Skin was His.   

96.  
Yet can it be that jealous Heaven, and You,  
O my provoked Friends, should not be just  
What privilege have Rebellious I, that now  
Vengeance should sheathe it's dared Lightning! Must  
Your Patience from my Crime its copy write,  
That both may equally be Infinite!   

97.  
It must, said Charis; and be sure to pay  
Thy Spouse due thanks for this Necessity.  
Yet if henceforth thou needs wilt run astray,  
Know that his Soul is not so sealed to thee,  
But he can find out some more faithful Breast  
Which will his Love's dear Violence not resist.   

98.  
She thus reformed into her lowly Tire,  
Charis and Phylax gently her embrace;  
Kissing into her Soul fresh Joys of Fire,  
And Printing gracious Looks upon her Face.  
Then sitting down together, Listen well  
Said Phylax, unto what I now shall tell.   

99  
The Story, Psyche, bends its aim at thee;  
But I will fetch it from its bottom, that  
Thou may'st a long and total Prospect see  
Of thy Extraction and original State.  
That Sight will teach thee that these simple Weeds  
Are full as fine and gorgeous as needs.   

100  
Especially when I withal have shown  
Thee by the boundless Powers which flourish in  
Thy Spouse's Hand and Word, how far thine own  
Condition flags below his Worth; how mean  
A Match thou art for Him, who nothing haste  
In dowry, but vile Vanity, and Dust.   

101.  
All things at first was God, who dwelled alone  
Within his boundless Self: But bounteous He  
Conceived the form of the Creation  
That other things by Him might Happy be.  
A way to ease its Streams his Goodness sought,  
And at the last into a World burst out.   

102.  
This World at first ' was but one single step  
From simple Nothing; yet that step was wide:  
No power but His, or could, or yet can, leap  
Over from Nothing's Bank, to Something's Side:  
The East and West are one, the Poles do kiss,  
If you their Distances compare with this.   

103.  
This Something, Son of Nothing, wallowing lay  
In the vast Womb of its own Darksome Deep:  
The foulest Monster never frighted Day  
With such wild Shapes as struggled in this Heap:  
Nor Hydra's Heads so snarled at one another,  
As every Parcel quarrelled with its Brother.   

104.  
The Deep climbed up, and tumbled down the Height,  
And then fell headlong after it again.  
Lightness was busy and forced lazy Weight  
To change his Quarters and above remain.  
The rude Tempestuous Winds blew all together,  
And filled the World at once with every Wether.   

105.  
Heat, about place, could not with Cold agree,  
This strove to frieze its Foe, and that to frie.  
The Centre in the Bottom scorned to be,  
And forced Earth full in heavens face to fly.  
Winter took heat, and breaking open its way;  
December flung into the heart of May.   

106.  
The Ocean stormed, and would no Shore allow,  
But swallowed up the Sands, and rushing out  
Whilst all things else were quarrelling, did throw  
Her billowie Arms the Universe about,  
Which in this civil Deluge drowned had been,  
Had not the kind Creators Help come in.   

107.  
Forth flew th' Eternal Dove, and tenderly  
Over the Floods blind Tumult hover,  
Did secret Seeds of vital Warmth supply  
By the sweet Virtue of his Sovereign Wing:  
Much like the loving Hen, whose brooding Care  
Doth hatch her Eggs, and them for life prepare.   

108.  
When lo, a Voice (this was that supreme Word  
Which you, and we, and all the World adore,)  
Broke, from the Father's Mouth with joint Accord  
Of th' undivided Three, and down did pour  
Itself upon the Deep, commanding Light  
To cheer that universal face of Night.   

109.  
As when the gloomy Cloud in sunder parts  
The nimble Lightning through the World doth haste;  
So from this Mass of Darkness, thousand Darts  
Of orient Beams themselves about did cast,  
With ready splendour answering that Call  
Which summoned them to gild this groping Ball.   

110.  
The Shade's affrighted at the Looks of Light  
Sneaked to blind holes their shamed heads to hide:  
Good pitied them, and hastening on their flight,  
Gave them safe Lodging in the World's backside;  
There slept dull Night: but Day was brave and bold,  
And in the face of God displayed its Gold.   

111.  
The next Command called for the Firmament  
To part the Waters which unruly grew.  
Strait, in the midst of them, a Bow was bend  
Of solid Substance and of Crystal Hue:  
Pure are the Streams which on heavens Back do flow,  
Those gross & dull whose Weight sinks them below.   

112.  
And they the third Day, all collected were  
Into the spacious Bosom of the Sea.  
The Earth rejoiced it had leave to appear,  
And looked up with brisk Aridity,  
Lifting her Mountains high with comely Pride  
Which now contemned the Water's proudest 〈◊〉   

113.  
But being naked, and not knowing whence  
To clothe herself, God her Apparel made:  
He spoke, and strait a flowery Confluence  
Her plains and Valleys with fragrant Robes arrayed;  
And trimmed the Heads of all her Hills with Trees,  
Earth's native Plumes and stateliest Braveries.   

114.  
The next Day on the Heaven was spent; which yet  
Was like a Virgin-Scroll spread fair and wide,  
But with no Characters of Beauty writ,  
Till God's great Word engraved its radiant Pride:  
But then the royal Sun came smiling forth  
Inamouring the whole World at his Birth.   

115.  
Light which till now had flitted here and there  
On the weak back of an ignoble Cloud,  
No sooner saw his gallant Face appear,  
But in his bosom she desired to shroud.  
He courteous was, and to her wished Throne  
Received her glorious Ambition.   

116.  
But being bounteous too; as He espied  
The bashful Spangles peeping every where,  
He freely dealt his Lustre far and wide:  
The Moon reached forth her Horns, and caught her share,  
So did the Stars; and now all Heaven grew fine,  
When He alone, or when all they did shine.   

117.  
The Hours before his foot came louting low  
Begging a Room in his bright Family;  
And so did cheerly Day devoted now  
With him to wake and sleep, to live and die.  
But shamefaced conscious Night durst not draw near,  
And so she fell to spotted Luna's share.   

118.  
Then gorgeous Summer came, and spread his way  
With Gales of gentle Air, and Clouds of Spice;  
Whilst jolly Flora, in her best array,  
As prodigal is of her Varieties.  
But plainer Winter did more distance keep,  
And far behind his burning Chariot creep.   

119.  
The Sea however surly the first Day,  
No sooner heard her great Creator speak,  
But her Rebellious Waves she flat did lay,  
And opened her mighty Womb, from whence did break  
The Winged Nation all Pair by Pair,  
The Musical Inhabitants of Air.   

120.  
The other German Brood, whose moister Wings  
Abhor the drying Winds, she kept at home,  
Where through the Deeps they fly: strange-shaped things,  
Which though brought forth, live in their Mother's womb:  
A womb of wonders, whose dimensions can  
Afford a full flight to Leviathan.   

121.  
Leviathan whose smoking Nostrils blow  
The Sea of Fire which from his Mouth doth break:  
Whose dreadful sneezings by their flashes show  
The brazen Scales which seal his mighty Back:  
Whose Beacons dare outface the Morning's Eyes;  
Whose Heart in hardness with the Millstone vies.   

122.  
Leviathan, who laughs at Him that shakes  
The bugbear Spear, and 〈◊〉 the idle Stone:  
Who steely Darts for wretched Stubble takes;  
Who to the Iron says, Vain Straw be gone;  
Who makes the boiling Sea answer his Wrath;  
Who where he goes, ploughs up his hoary Path.   

123.  
He at whose dismal generation, Fear  
Fled far away, and nothing left behind  
But Might and Boldness, which compounded were  
Into the Mettle of the Monsters Mind:  
He who exalted in his thoughts doth ride  
The Sovereign Prince of all the Sons of Pride.   

124.  
But now the sixth Day dawn'd: and Tellus is  
Commanded to bring forth her People too:  
She heard the Voice, and with strange Activeness  
Bids Beasts and Reptiles with her answer go.  
They started up, and cried, Lo We are here,  
Before the Words sound left their Mother's ear.   

125.  
Hast thou not seen the gallant Horse, whose Eye  
Is fed with living Lightning; whose high Neck  
Is clothed with mighty Thunder's Majesty;  
Whose glorious Nostrils Terrors language speak;  
Who never would believe the Trumpets sound;  
But with proud nerceness swallows up the Ground;   

126.  
Who with Impatience doth the Valleys paw  
When he hath smelled the Battle from afar;  
Who mocks the Sword, and brave disdain doth throw  
Upon the Quver, and the glittering Spear;  
Who both the Trumpet's and the Soldiers shout  
With his more martial Ha ha doth flout.   

127.  
Hast thou not seen Behemoth, that vast Mount  
Of flesh and bone, that Earth's Leviathan;  
Whose monstrous Thirst, though many a living Fount  
And River, it hath slain, still trusts it can  
Through the profounder Channel of his throat  
All Jordan (even in time of harvest) shoot:   

128.  
Whose Navel is a Knot of Power; whose Loins  
The Mansion of Strength; whose massy Bones  
Which to their sockets steely Grissels join,  
Are Brass the less, the greater Iron ones;  
Who mounts his mighty Tail so high, that He  
Seems like the Hill, that like the Cedar Tree.   

129.  
These goodly Creatures, and ten thousand more,  
Some great, some small, did Tellus then bring forth.  
But who shall now reign Prince of all this Store,  
And of the Ocean's more numerous Birth?  
This was so high a business, that the great  
Creator will for it in Counsel sit.   

130.  
A Place there is retired far and high  
In the bright Tower of eternal Rest,  
Roofed, paved, and walled with Immenfitie,  
In at whose Door no Creature ever past:  
Th' Infinite Three there by joint Consultation  
Determine of the Work and of the Fashion.   

131.  
Then stepping down to Earth, this Triple One  
Takes up the next Dust that lay at his feet;  
Which he compacts and moulds and frames so soon,  
That the quick shape did rather seem to meet  
His Hand, than follow it, and every Part  
As waked by's touch, up from the Dust to start.   

132.  
Then round about the Universe He reached  
His mighty Arm, and culled from every Thing  
The choicest Excellence what had enriched  
Their Several Tribes, to trim their breeding King,  
That they more willingly might Him obey  
In whom their own and the World's Treasures lay.   

133.  
Fair was the Image; For its form was true  
To that brave Model which th' Eternal Son  
Had for himself designed: And that which drew  
Him to this Work, was that Design alone.  
All things but wait upon this Mystery;  
The World was made that God a Max might be.   

134.  
As yet this hopeful Fabric was no more  
Than a mere Statue, fair, but cold and dead:  
When lo, the kind Creator's Breath did pour  
Life's Flood into its Nostrils, whence it spread  
By the Veins Channels into every Part,  
But chose its Manor-house amidst the Heart.   

135.  
That Breath immortal was, as flowing from  
His Bosom whom Eternity calls Sirc:  
And kindled by its Blast, so pure a Flame  
As shall outlive heavens stoutest fairest Fire.  
'Tis not the Crack and Ruin of the less  
Or greater World, that can the Soul suppress.   

136.  
Thus Adam opened his Eyes; by which such beams  
Of inbred Majesty did look abroad,  
That now again the portly Creature seems  
The royal Image of his mighty God:  
heavens Sovereignty doth shine in God, and who  
But Man looks like the King of all below?   

137.  
Nor are his Looks in vain: For in his Hand  
Are put the Reins of Air, of Earth, of Sea;  
And under his imperial Command  
All kinds of Birds, of Beasts, of Fishes be:  
Which, though you now so boisterous see, and wild,  
Before their King at first were tame and mild.   

138.  
This Prince of the inferior World thus made,  
God found'st a Palace where He might reside:  
When all the Earth his Eye examined had,  
A dainty place which in the East he spied,  
Won his best liking, where he builds the Seat  
Of his new Viceroy, delicate and great.   

139.  
It was a Garden, if that Name can speak  
The Worth of those illustrious Sweets which there  
A brisk Conspiracy of Joys did make,  
To prove Heaven dwelled not in the starry Sphere.  
The Earth looked poor in all her other Soil,  
Whose Meanness served but for this Jewels foil.   

140.  
No Weed presumed to show its roytish face  
In this Enclosure: Nettles, Thistles, Brakes,  
Thorns, Briars, Cockle, Hemlock, rampant Grass  
With all those Herbs the meager Wizard rakes  
Into his deadly Boxes, either yet  
Were not at all, or far from Eden set.   

141.  
The Yew, the Box, the Cypress, and the other  
Trees which to Funerals consecrated be,  
Had there no business; Nor Death nor her Mother  
Being as yet conceived: No crookbacked Tree  
Disgraced the place, no foolish scrambling Shrub,  
No wild and careless Bush, no clownish Stub.   

142.  
Rude Boreas and his Winter did forbear  
To walk this way; so did Distempers, Cares;  
Perplexities, Sighs, Melancholy, Fear,  
Doubts, Jealousies, Seditions, Treasons, Wars,  
Storms, Thunders, Lightnings, Earthquaks, Ruptures, Strains,  
Wounds, Boils, Diseases, inward, outward Pains.   

143.  
For on the Gardens Margin ran a Wall  
High built with Beauty which begird it round:  
Delight stood at the Gate, and let in all  
Things like herself; But whensoever she found  
A Blemish, Wrinkle, Frown, Mole, Scarborow, or Blot,  
The inconsistent Stranger out she shut.   

144.  
Within, rose Hills of Spice, and Frankincense,  
Which smiled upon the flowery Vales below;  
Where living Crystal rolled its influence,  
Whose musical Impatience did flow  
With endless chiding the pure Gems beneath;  
Because no smother they had paved its Path.   

145.  
The Nymphs which played about this Currents side,  
Were milky Thoughts, tralucid fair Desires,  
Soft Turtles Kisses, Looks of Virgin-Brides,  
Sweet Coolness which nor needs, nor feareth Fires,  
Snowy Embraces, cheerly-sober Eyes,  
Gentleness, Mildness, Ingenuities.   

146.  
At full length on the Beds of flowers did lie  
Smiling Content, Ease, Sweetness, Softness, Pleasure,  
Whilst in the carpet-Walks there danced by  
Calmeness, Long-days, Security, and Leisure.  
Accomplished Growth, brisk Firmitude, and Health,  
The only Jewel which makes wealthy Wealth.   

147.  
Your Roses here, would only spend their Blusn  
On their own Ougliness, should they compare  
With those pure Eyes, with which the Rosy Bush  
Looks up and views its beauteous Neighbours there:  
Nor are your Lilies white, if those were by,  
Whose leaves are all fair-writ with Purity.   

148.  
Liban and Carmell must submit their Heads  
To Paradise's foot: the Balm, Nard, Myrrh,  
And every Odour of Arabia's Beds  
Would beg to borrow richer Sweetness here.  
Nor would Adoni's Garden scorn to be  
Their fellow-suiter, for true suavity.   

149.  
The early Gales knocked gently at the door  
Of every flower to bid the Odours wake,  
Which taking in their softest Arms, they bore  
About the Garden, and returned them back  
To their own Beds, but doubled by the Blisses  
They sipped from their delicious brethren's Kisses.   

150.  
Upon the Wings of those inamouring Breathes,  
Refreshment, Vigour, and new Spirits attended;  
And wheresoe'er they flew, cheered up their Paths,  
And with fresh Airs of Life all things befriended:  
For Heavn's all-sweetning Spirit its breath did join  
To make the Powers of these Blasts divine.   

151.  
The goodly Trees their fertile Arms did bend  
Under the nobler load of fruit they bore.  
That Orchard which the Dragon did attend,  
For all its Golden Boughs to this was poor:  
As well the greater Serpent knew, who crept  
Hither betimes, and here his cursed Watch kept.   

152.  
Of Fortitude there stood a goodly Row,  
Heer of Munificence a thick-set Grove,  
Of Industry a Quickset there did grow,  
Here flourished a dainty Copps of Love,  
There sprung up pleasant twigs of ready Wit,  
Heer a large Tree of Gravity was set.   

153.  
Here Temperance grew, and wide-spred Justice there,  
Under whose moderate Shadow, Piety,  
Devotion, Mildness, Friendship planted were;  
Next stood Renown, with Head exalted high;  
Then Peace, with Plenty, Fatness, Happiness:  
O blessed Place where grew such things as these.   

154.  
Yet what are these, ifby Death's envious Hand  
Or they, or their fruition blasted be?  
This to prevent, at careful heavens Command  
Amidst the rest sprung up an helpful Tree,  
Which nobly proved itself a Branch to be  
Plucked from the grand stock of Eternity.   

155.  
Amidst them all it sprung: for well it knew  
Its proper Seat, and chose the Gardens Heart:  
What place could more than that to Life be due,  
Whence Vigour round might flow, and reach each part.  
Fresh Heat and Spirits hung about it thick,  
The leaves did breath, and all its fruit was quick.   

156.  
By this the mighty Tree of Knowledge stood,  
(For where should Wisdom dwell, but next the Heart?)  
Its Leavs were written fair, but writ with blood,  
Holding forth Learning, and capricious Art.  
O fatal Tree! how wise had Adam grown,  
If He thy woeful knowledge had not known!   

157.  
High in the shady Galleries sat a Choir  
Well worthy such a Chapel; Birds of Praise,  
Whose most harmonious Throats did all conspire  
To pay for their sweet Home in sweeter Lays:  
With whom soft Echo needs her skill would show,  
And though she kept slow time, yet she sung true.   

158.  
This Map ofWonders, this Epitome  
Of all heavens Pride, this Court ofRarities,  
This Confluence ofblessed Gallantry,  
Was that so much renowned Paradise.  
Renowned; yet o how much higher than  
The loftiest Praise it ever reaped from Men!   

159.  
The great Creator hither Adam brings  
As to the Portall of Celestial Bliss:  
And, See, said He, of these illustrious Things  
I give thee free choice, bating only this  
One Tree of Knowledge; all the rest are thine,  
Eat what thou wilt; but let that still be mine.   

160.  
If thy presumptuous Hand but touch that Tree  
Thy liquorish Crime must cost thy Life, and thou  
By Death's immediate Talons seized be:  
Death, Adam, Death, hangs thick on every Bough.  
Lo there the Tree of Life's as near as that:  
Take heed thou diest not for thou know'st not what.   

161.  
O Noble Master! whose vast Love did give  
A world at once, and yet require no more  
But that his Creature would have care to live,  
And so in safety possess his Store;  
Who ties Him to no homage, but to shun  
Being by his own needless fault undone.   

162.  
After this easy Charge; upon a Throne  
Built all of Power He his Lieutenant set,  
To exercise his new Dominion  
Upon his Subjects; for before his seat  
By heavens Command, the Beasts now marshelled were  
In modest equipage all Pair by Pair.   

163.  
When Adam fixed on them his awful Eye,  
The Lion couched, the Horse let fall his crest,  
Behemoths Tail, mounted before so high,  
Melted down to the ground, the Bull depressed  
His Horns, the Boar sucked in his foam, the Bear,  
The Wolf, the Tiger, louted low for fear.   

164.  
Like reverence bowed down the other Crew  
Flat on the ground, when from their Sovereign's Face  
Such full beams of imperial Brightness flew  
As spoke it plainly the Creator's Glass:  
Fair the Reflection was, which could command  
The rudest Beasts the truth to understand.   

165.  
As these their duty did; the Eagle drew  
Up every rank and file of winged Things:  
Thither the Ostrich, Vultur, Falcon, flew,  
Thither a flock of every Bird that sings;  
Thither the Peacock, but with train full low,  
For down fell all its Stars, eclipsed now.   

166.  
The most magnanimous Cock came strutting on  
Disdaining Heaven and Earth, till he drew near  
His mighty Sovereign's all-awing Throne,  
From whence upon his surly neck flew Fear,  
His wings flagged low, his fiery gullet grew  
Languid and pale, his comb and forehead blue.   

167.  
Wise Adam marked them all, and sent his Eye  
To search their bosoms Cabinets; where He read  
Th' essential Lines and Characters which by  
Nature's late Hand were 〈◊〉 fashioned;  
Their Difference, their Kindred, and Relations,  
Their Powers, their Properties, and Inclinations.   

168.  
Thus of their inward Selves informed, He thought  
What Titles would most correspondent be  
To their own Bosoms sense, and having wrought  
Up in one Word each Nature's Mystery.  
He took Acquaintance of them all by Name;  
Then with a Princely Nod dismissed them.   

169.  
They went, in loving Pairs: Which as He saw,  
He fetched a gentle Sigh, to think that He  
His nobler Life in Solitude should draw,  
Whilst all things else enjoyed Society.  
What boots it him that He reigns Sovereign Lord,  
If all his World can Him no Queen afford.   

170.  
God heard the Sigh, and calling Pity forth,  
Dispatched her on an errand to the Deep:  
A nimble Nymph was she, and through the Earth  
With penetrating sprightfulness did leap  
Down to the dark Mouth of a silent Cave,  
The sink of Discontents, of Cares the Grave.   

171.  
Before the Grate there stood a lazy Lake  
Whose Waters never yet were known to stir;  
Upon the bank Oblivion did make  
Her sluggish Bed of Moss and caked Fur:  
But Remora's and Cramp-fish groping lay  
About the bottom of the Mud and Day.   

172.  
Up from the Water crept an heavy Cloud  
Of dusky Vapours, on whose back did ride  
Fat Drowfinesse, who rubbed her eyes, and bowed  
Her gross and over-laden head aside.  
About the swarthy shades which thick were spread,  
Bats, Owls, and other Night-birds fluttered.   

173.  
Beyond the Lake Poppy and 〈◊〉 grew,  
Nodding unto their neighbour plump of Trees,  
Which were the Willow, Cypress, Box and Yew,  
Under whose Boughs lay Quietness and Ease;  
And, nestling at their feet, an halt-dead Crowd  
Of Dormice and of Bears, all 〈◊〉 loud.   

174.  
By these passed Pity, and a gate of Jet  
Espied whose Ringle covered was with Wool;  
Silence for Porter stood, with finger put  
Close to his mouth: Who when he saw her full  
Of more than common business with his Queen,  
He stole the bar aside, and let her in.   

175.  
There found she on a Bed of Ebony  
Sleep laid at length: the pillow for her head  
Was badger's Hair: Night and Security  
Were the two Blankets on her body spread:  
By the Bedside a leaden Pipe did drop;  
A Swarm of Bees were humming on the top.   

176.  
But greater was the Swarm of Dreams, which round  
About the room in shap less shapes did fly,  
(With all Confusion, but without all sound,  
Though some did talk, some sing, some laugh, some cry,)  
Some want an head, a cheek, an eye, a nose,  
Some want their legs, some feet, and some their toes.   

177.  
Some were gentile and fine, some rude and course,  
Some wild, some terrible, some black, some white,  
Some Men before, and yet behind an Horse,  
Some Swan on one side, on the other Kite;  
Some Love, some Hate, some Half-hope, and Half fear  
Some Heaven, some Hell, some both; most Monsters are.   

178.  
But now the Nymph approaching to the Bed  
Aloud her Message spoke, and jogged Sleep:  
She shrugged, and yawned, and thrice lift up her head,  
And with one Eye half-ope at length did peep,  
And nodded Pity to a Box, whence she  
Took what would for her purpose useful be.   

179.  
With this she posted back to Paradise;  
Where she no sooner came in Adam's view,  
But he began to rub his heavy Eyes,  
On which she straita sable Powder threw:  
Down fell the Man upon a spicy Bed,  
Proud of the grace to kiss his sweeter Head.   

180.  
His Senses sealed up in a dainty Night,  
His Soul walked to his Brain to take a view  
Of that 〈◊〉 yet obscure Delight  
Which his unwitting fancy there did show:  
When lo a goodly Tree salutes his Eye,  
Tall, wide, and full of flourishing Majesty.   

181.  
The Woods looked all that way, and bowed their head;  
The Shrubbs crept low and due obcisance made;  
The Plants and flowers their fragrant duties did,  
Ambitious to be gilded by his shade:  
Thus high exalted He alone remains  
King of the Hills, the Vales, the Woods, the Plains.   

182.  
But from his own brave Root, out at his side  
A Twigg sprung up, which grew as fair as He:  
As high it reached its head, its arms as wide,  
And flourished with equal Gallantry;  
Their leavs did kiss, their boughs embraced each other  
They liv d, and lov d, and joyed, and reigned together '   

183.  
Yet long their lovely Reign endured not,  
For at their Root a desperate Canker grew,  
Which gnawing it with restless Venom, got  
The Victory, and down their Bodies threw:  
The World groaned at their Fall; but Earth did open  
Her Mouth, and shut them and their Ruins up.   

184.  
The 〈◊〉 Root still held its sturdy hold  
And kept its place: so did the Canker his.  
New Sprouts took heart, and followed the old  
With answerable Bulk and Haughtiness:  
But still their fretful Foe went on to gnaw,  
And soon or late laid all their pride full low.   

185.  
Long held this Conflict: till at length a Sprout  
Sprung from a new and unsuspected place;  
For on that side the undisposed Root  
In all the World's opinion arid was:  
This only Branch escaped being tainted by  
The inbred Canker's foul affinity.   

186.  
Yet scaped he not its Envy; for one day  
The Monster took a Leap and Him a 〈◊〉,  
Whom when it saw shrinking and giving way,  
It impudently hoped to have prevailed;  
But he recoiled, and was content to die  
Only to make sure of his Victory:   

187.  
For wisely ordering his brave Ruin, He  
With his dead weight upon his Enemy fell:  
Who crushed under this Calamity,  
Paid for its Boldness, and sunk down to Hell:  
When lo the conquered, yet victorious Tree  
Starts up again in new Life's Bravery.   

188.  
And after Him those other Trees arose  
Which had lain dead and rotten long before;  
For 'twas his Pleasure to impart to those  
His own vivacious overflowing store;  
They every where leaped up to life, and stood  
So thick, that now the Plain became a Wood   

189.  
A royal Wood of everlasting Trees,  
Whose radiant Arms through all the World reached Gold,  
Whose Fruit were Gems, and Heavenborn Rarities,  
Whose Heads themselves high in the Spheres enrolled;  
Yet all were Shrubs unto that Cedar who  
Had called them from their Graves with him to go.   

190.  
Whilst Adam fettered lay in senseless Chains  
Gazing and Musing on this wondrous show,  
God opened his side, but mean while bid the Veins  
Seal up their Mouths, and see no drops did flow;  
From thence he chose a single Rib, and then  
The wicket closed, and all was whole again.   

191.  
That Bone he handled with such breeding Art  
That it disolved into many more,  
And yielded all Materials for each Part  
Of an accomplished Body: What before  
Was nothing but a Rib, is now alone  
Blood, flesh, skin, entrails, sinews, muscles, bone.   

192.  
And that the work might answer its sweet shop,  
In which was formed no Creature else but this,  
The willing Gardens Beauties he did crop  
This Paradise of Paradise to dress.  
All sweets and Delicacies flowed thither,  
And in one Eve were moulded up together.   

193.  
Eve the Topstone of all the brave Creation,  
The Bliss of Adam, and the crown of Nature;  
Eve, who enjoys the most removed station  
From the black Chaos; Eve that final Creature,  
In whom th' Almighty Lord set up his rest,  
And only spared to say, Head done his best.   

194.  
Her spacious polished Fore head was the fair  
And lovely Plain where gentle Majesty  
Walked in delicicus state: Her Temples were  
A piece of a pomegranate, which did lie  
In dainty ambush under their soft Cover  
Of Amber Looks whose volumes curled over.   

195.  
The fuller stream of her Luxuriant Hair  
Poured down itself upon her Ivory Back;  
And in its Flood ten thousand Graces were  
Sporting and dallying with every Lock;  
Which when th' enamoured winds did kiss, you might  
Have seen a ruffling Tempest of Delight.   

196.  
Two princely Arches of most equal measures  
Held up the Canopy above her Eyes,  
And opened to the heavens far richer Treasures  
Than with their Stars, or with their Sun did rise:  
Their Beams can ravish but the Body's sight,  
These dazzle stoutest Souls with mystic light.   

197.  
These were two Garrisons of all conquering Love;  
Two Founts of life, of Spirit, of Joy, of Grace;  
Two Easts of one fair Heaven, no more above,  
But in the Hemisphere of her own face;  
Two Thrones of Gallantry; two shops of Miracles;  
Two shrines of Deities; two silent Oracles.   

198.  
For here could Silence eloquently plead,  
Here could th' invisible Soul be clearly read;  
Though Humours their mild composition made,  
They were two Burning Glasses, wherce were shed  
Those living Flames which with enlivening Darts  
Shoot Deaths of Love into Spectators Hearts.   

199.  
'Twixt these an Alabaster Promontory  
Sloped gently down, parting each Cheek from other,  
Where White & Red strove which should get the glory,  
Blending in sweet confusion together.  
The Rose and Lily never joined were  
In a diviner Marriage than there.   

200.  
Upon these precious Cushionets did lie  
Ten thousand Beauties, and as many Smiles,  
Chaste Blandishments, and genuine Courtesy,  
Harmless Temptations, and honest Guiles.  
For Heaven, though up betimes the maid to deck,  
Ne'er made Aurora's cheeks so fair and sleek.   

201.  
Neatness, and Pleasure, and inamoring Grace  
About her Mouth in full Retinue stood:  
For next the Eyes bright Glass, this is the place  
In which the Soul delights to walk abroad.  
But at her lips two scarlet Threads there lay,  
Or two warm Corals, to adorn the way;   

202.  
The precious Way, where, by her Breath, and Tongue,  
Her Odours and her Honey out did flow:  
Which thou'dst have judged to have been bred among  
Arabian and Hyblean Hills; and so  
They were indeed; the richer Arabia  
And sweeter Hybla in her Mouth did lie.   

203.  
As crowned with a golden Chapter  
A Column of white Marble you have seen;  
So her round polished Neck her Head did bear,  
Nor did the shining Pillar bend or lean:  
Yet neither would this Marble hardness know,  
Nor suffer Cold to dwell amongst its Snow.   

204.  
Her blessed Bosom moderately rose  
With two soft Mounts of Lilies, whose fair Top  
Two Cherry Branches for their Station chose,  
And there their living Crimson lifted up.  
The milky Countenance of the Hills confessed  
What kind of Springs within had made their Nest.   

205.  
Fair Politure walked all her Body over,  
And Symmetry flew through every Part;  
Soft and white Sweetness round about did hover;  
From every Member Beauty shot its dart:  
From Heaven to Earth, from head to foot, I mean,  
No sign of Blemish or of Spot was seen.   

206.  
This was the first born Queen of Gallantry,  
All Gems compounded into one rich Stone,  
All Sweets knit into one Conspiracy,  
A Constellation of all Stars in one:  
Who when she was presented to the view  
Of Paradise, the Place all dazzled grew.   

207.  
Proud Phoebus who in glorious Scorn did fly  
About the World, no sooner spied her face,  
But fain he would have lingered, from his sky  
Upon this less but sweeter Heaven to gaze;  
Till shame enforced him to lash on again,  
And clearer wash him in the Western Main,   

208.  
The Air smiled round about, for joy that he  
Had the prerogative of the Virgin kiss,  
And did embrace with blessed Liberty  
A Body soft and sweet and chaste as His.  
All gentle Gales that had but strength to stir  
Did thither flock to beg perfumes of Her.   

209.  
The Marigold forgot her garish Love,  
And turned her duty to these fairer Eyes;  
All Flowers looked up, and as they could, did move  
Towards those ocular Spheres, from whence did rise  
Mild and unparching Beams, Beams which in stead  
Of fire, soft joys irradiations spread.   

210.  
The sturdiest rudest Trees affected were  
With her delightful Presence, and did melt  
At their hard Pith: Whilst all the Birds which there  
Were tossing Mirth about the Branches, felt  
The influence of her Looks; For having let  
Their Song fall down, their Eyes on Her they set.   

211.  
And o how soon their proudest plumes and wings  
Followed their song! For in Her Person they  
With fixed intention read more glorious things  
Than all their feathers Bravery could display,  
And were content no more the Name to wear  
Of Birds of Paradise, while she was there.   

212.  
But when she moved her Feet, the joyful Earth  
A waked her uttermost Fertility,  
And by a brisk extemporary Birth  
Of Myrrh, of Flowers, of Spice, did testify  
What Carpets Pomp was requisite to make  
The Passage fit, where Beauty was to walk.   

213.  
She walked; by that mild importunity  
To break the Chains of sleep which bound her Spouse:  
But he wakes more by powerful Sympathy  
Which on the sudden in his Bosom glows:  
At first he thought his Dream had still possessed him,  
And with a fairer apparition blest him.   

214.  
But by his wise and most discerning Eyes  
Examining the graceful Object, He  
Pries into all the Truth; and smiling cries,  
This nothing but my other Self can be:  
From Me she sprung, a Woman from a Man,  
And is but Adam in reflection.   

215.  
How sweet a Confluence of Loves and Joys  
Met here in their first Marriage Embrace;  
Which was as pure and chaste, as when one Voice  
In music's wedded to another's Grace,  
Where with concentric Delicacies they  
Hug and conspire in one soul-plying Lay.   

216.  
Adam beholds himself more sweet in Eve,  
In Him She reads herself more high and grave;  
Either from other does Themselves receive,  
As fast returning what they taking gave,  
Thus when two Currents meet, they lose each other  
In the pellucid bosom of his brother.   

217.  
They naked were, if only skins, and hairs,  
And excrements of Beasts Apparel be:  
But who will tax the Sun, the Moon, the Stars,  
The Diamond, Crystal, Coral, Ivory,  
Of Nakedness, because the Clothes they wear,  
None but their native Beams and Beauties are.   

218.  
A Robe of Innocence and Purity  
Down from their Head unto their foot did flow,  
Transmitting their fair feature to the Eye,  
But letting no unseemly shame peep through.  
They Naked were of every borrowed Dress,  
And Naked of what you count Nakedness.   

219.  
In this Condition did they live and love  
And each with other interchange their Heart;  
Fairly transcribing our sweet Life above,  
Where every Angels Eye his soul doth dart  
Into his Fellows breast, that all may be  
In common blest by one Felicity.   

220.  
How great a Feast, and earnest Invitation  
Was this for Envy, whose ambitious Tooth  
Disdains all fare but in the noblest fashion;  
Who armed with Jaws of greedy Iron doth  
Dread no encounter, but with restless spite  
Against the most confirmed Champions fight!   

221.  
Built is her Palace in the Heart of Hell,  
Whose foul Materials Rust and Poison be:  
Her cursed Throne is mounted on the fell  
Bosom of Belzebub, whom furious She  
Stings with eternal Rage, and makes Him run  
About the wild Work of Damnation.   

222.  
To Paradise He came, and brought his Hell  
Into the earthly Heaven, where looking round  
To view the Colonies which there did dwell,  
A Creature spruce and delicate He found  
Upon a Bank of flowery Pleasures spread,  
But far more sweet and beauteous than its bed!   

223.  
It was the Serpent, whose illustrious skin  
Played with the Sun, and sent Him back his Beams  
With glorious Use: that Wealth which glisters in  
The bosom of the Oriental Streams  
Salutes Aurora's Cheek with fewer Rays  
Than this bright Robe in all Heaven's face displays.   

224.  
His sharpest Eyes sparkled with nimble flames,  
The light by which his active Soul was read;  
Wisdom and Art, with all their plots and frames  
Made their close Nest in his judicious Head:  
Above his Fellows on Crafts Wings he flew:  
All Beasts but He, to that dull Name were true.   

225.  
This Agent Belzebub approved; and as  
He fed upon his Couch, mixed with his Meat,  
And in that ambush through his lips did pass;  
Where (having taught his Bane to relish sweet,)  
He easily won the passage through his Throat,  
And thence by stealth into his Heart he got.   

226.  
As when the Fire hath through the Cauldrons side  
Into its unsuspecting bowels stolen,  
The Liquor frets and fumes, and to a Tide  
Of working Wrath and hot impatience swollen,  
With boiling Surges beats the Brass, and leaves  
No way untred to vent its tortured Waves:   

227.  
So now the Serpent felt his Bosom swell  
With peevish Rage and desperate Disdain;  
A thousand Plots and fallacies did fill  
The busy Corners of his belching Brain:  
Sometimes he beats on that, sometimes on this,  
Sometimes thinks neither, sometimes both amiss,   

228.  
He knew the vastness of his fell Design,  
Which was to slay a World at one dread Stroke,  
And reach Destruction in a poisoned Line  
Unto the latest Twigg of Humane Stock;  
And therefore mustered up the utmost Might  
All Hell could send to back Him in the fight.   

229.  
But pondering then how Adam's sober Breast  
With Wisdoms Ammunition furnished was,  
And strongly fortified with all the best  
Of sin-defying Piety and Grace,  
He shaked his head, and thought the Match not even  
To venture on a fight with Him and Heaven.   

230.  
For if he happened to be foiled at first,  
His following Onsets all would sweat in vain.  
And his own poisonous Spite his Breast would burst  
To see how Adam and his Race should reign  
Safe and free Kings of earthly Paradise,  
And flourish thence, to that above the skies.   

231.  
Yet, wholly to decline the Conflict, were  
To let Man win those Realms without a Blow,  
And freely to permit what he did fear  
Perchance might be by his own Overthrow:  
To a resolved Fight this spurred him on,  
Who could lose Nothing, though he Nothing won.   

232.  
He wisely had observed soft-tempered Eve;  
And yet he feared the Mettle of her Breast  
Would prove so generous, that to Deceive  
Would be an easier Task, then to Contest;  
And, could she any way be overthrown,  
He hoped her Fall would justle Adam down.   

233.  
Remembering then, what Engine did subdue  
A wiser Head and stronger far than she,  
And how impatient Ambition threw  
Grand Lucifer from heavens Sublimity;  
He trusts that now the like successful End  
Will on this tried way of fight attend.   

234.  
Advised thus: the mighty Quintessence  
Of venturous ever-swelling Philautie,  
Of Discontent, of Scorn, of Insolence,  
Of towering Fancies, of Self-flattery,  
And of the stoutest Heav'n-aspiring Pride  
Together in one desperate Plot He tied.   

235.  
And, if this will not do the feat, yet I  
Excused am, said He, and upon Hell  
Be the foul shame, whose feeble Princes by  
The shock of this Temptation headlong fell.  
This said, He towards Eve did gently glide,  
Whom straying from her Husband He espied.   

236.  
Unhappy Error that, which did invite  
The jealous Tempter to be bold, since she  
Had robbed herself of all her Spouses Might,  
By starting from his holy Company!  
But all the way the cunning Serpent went  
He put on Looks of contrary Intent.   

237.  
For Love and Friendship smiled in his Eyes,  
Upon his Face sat Tenderness and Care:  
Thrice did he bow his flattering Neck, and thrice  
His silent Homage he presented her:  
And then, Fair Queen of Paradise, said he,  
Why must the Prince be bound, and Subjects free?   

238.  
We crop our Pleasures wheresoe'er We please  
From any flowery, any spicy bed,  
We pluck our dinner from the dangling Trees,  
And all the Garden doth our Table spread:  
But royal You, and Adam nothing eat.  
Have your own Wills, or God, this order set?   

239.  
Nay, courteous Serpent, Eve replied, We  
Have large Commission, and our God is kind:  
He gives Us leave to feast on every Tree,  
And with all Paradise to please our Mind,  
Bating that one of Knowledge, on whose Boughs  
Inevitable Death He tells Us grows.   

240.  
O credulous Queen, the Serpent answers, who  
Make your own prejudice by believing it!  
What has a fatal Tree of Death to do,  
Just at whose Elbow one of Life is set?  
I to yourself appeal: Judge you but whether  
These two can grow like such good Friends together   

241.  
Death in a Tree! Flat contradiction lies  
In the bare Word: How can Death be alive?  
Sure Vegetation very ill complies  
With sapless Stupor. O do not deceive  
Your Thoughts, nor teach the Tree of 〈◊〉 how  
To turn a Tree of Ignorance to you.   

242.  
Observe its goodly Apples: can you read  
In their fair cheeks the ghastly Looks of Death?  
Do any Boughs in all this Garden breed  
A Fruit which more of heavens sweet Countenance hath?  
Yet grant it Poison prove: Behold at hand  
The Tree ofLife for Antidote doth stand.   

243.  
Ask Me not whether Truth can tell a Lie;  
Vain were the Question; for your God is True.  
And yet it seems by a deep Fallacy  
Of enigmatick Truth He cheateth You:  
Indeed the Tree bears Death; but Death which will  
Nothing but Wants and imperfections kill   

244.  
A Death of Life, which will destroy You so  
That you no longer Creatures shall remain;  
But by this Metamorphosis shall grow  
Above yourselves, and into Gods be slain,  
With Eyes divine discerning Good from Evil,  
From Heaven Hell, and an Angel from a Devil.   

245.  
Full well did God know this; and 'tis no Wonder  
If He desires to reign a God alone:  
And so He may, if he can keep You under  
By the poor Rein of one Injunction;  
If by an Apple thus He terrifies  
The native Princes of fair Paradise.   

246.  
O how it stings my Soul, to think that You  
My Sovereign should thus faint-hearted be!  
For my part, did ten thousand Mandates grow  
Thick in my Way, to bar Me from this Tree,  
Through all I'd break, And so would You, if once  
Your Heart were fired by my Experience.   

247.  
For yesterday, when I began to taste  
The sprightful Fruit, Flames kindled in mine Eyes;  
My Soul a waked, and from my Bosom chased  
Those Mists of Ignorance, whose thick Disguise  
Muffled my thoughts, and kept me down a Beast  
As dark and dull as any of the rest.   

248.  
But now Serenity walks through my heart,  
And yields me uncontrolled Prospect to  
The Orbs of Knowledge, where from Part to Part  
My nimbly piercing Eye about doth go.  
This is the Death I found: a Death which I  
Mean ever day as long's I live to die.   

249.  
O then what vast advantage will arise  
To your large Soul by this enlightening Tree!  
My breast is shallow, narrow are mine Eyes,  
But wide and brave is your Capacity:  
So wide, that Wisdoms deepest Seas may find  
Sufficient Channels in your Mighty Mind.   

250.  
And if this Knowledge, if Divinity  
Itself, may merit but the easy Pains  
Of your Acceptance: O persuaded be  
To suffer these inestimable Gains.  
Shame burns my Cheeks, that I your Slave, should eat  
This Bliss, and You my Queen be barred the Meat.   

251.  
And yet you are not barred: Behold but how  
You are bid welcome by the courteous Tree,  
Whose laden Arms their precious Offerings bow  
To meet your Mouth, and seem to plead with Me:  
Their postures Language asks, What make we here  
If we alone by You contemned are?   

252.  
These Charms stole open the Door into the Heart  
Of careless Eve, and thrust their poison in:  
Besides, the smiling Apples played their part,  
And her Affections with her Eye did win:  
Capricious curious Pride did her invite  
What e'er it cost, to taste of that Delight.   

253.  
Three times she stepped to th' enchanting Tree,  
As oft by Conscience plucked back again:  
Yet still with fatal importunity  
She struggled till she broke her Freedoms Chain;  
Then with unchecked Madness on she goes  
To win her wished Prize, and herself to lose.   

254.  
Up went her desperate Hand, and reached away  
All the World's Bliss whilst she the Apple took:  
When lo, the Earth did move, the heavens did stay,  
Beasts and Birds shivered, absent Adam shook;  
But none did know the reason of their Fear;  
Only he ran to see what Eve did here   

255.  
O baleful sight! His precious Queen he saw  
Enslaved by her soothing Subjects Craft.  
She who was Beauty's Centre until now,  
Is of her brave Prerogative bereft:  
Bereft so wholly, that with wondering Doubt  
For his late lovely Eve, in Eve He sought.   

256.  
Apparent Misery sat on her Face,  
Before the goodly Throne of Pleasantness:  
Her Cheeks, which bloomed till now with heavenly Grace  
Sins black and dismal horror did confess;  
Forth at her Eyes, of late Life's Windows, Death  
Did look, and Rottenness flowed with her Breath.   

257.  
But greater was the Change within; for there  
Her bold Transgression spread an hideous Night  
Of Ignorance on her intellectual Sphere:  
Her Will, which grew before so fair and strait,  
Turned crooked and perverse: Each Passion  
Scorned Her Commands, as the Her Gods had done.   

258.  
Her Heart till now soft as the Turtles Sighs,  
It's heav'n-inamoring Tenderness forgets,  
And with the stoutest Purian Marble vies:  
Her Thoughts, before all Sons of Love, profess  
No trade but Mischief now, and busy are  
To propagate the Woes which stinged Her.   

259.  
Nor fears she now to play the Serpent too  
In envy of her Husband's blessed State,  
Whom with the beauteous Apples she does Woo  
To taste of Hell, and swallow down his fate:  
Fall to my Dear, said she; fear not the food,  
I have thy Taster been, and find it good.   

260.  
But wiser Adam well the danger knew  
Whose miserable Proof now wounds his eyes;  
Nor could the poor Bait of an Apple show 
1 Tim. 2. 14.   
Him reason, Heaven and Virtue to despise.  
Fair in his bosom written was the Law,  
And reverend Terror kept his Soul in awe.   

261.  
In a we a while it kept it: But at last  
Commiseration of his Spous's case.  
Grew to such strength in his too-tender Breast  
That Pity to himself it did displace.  
Eve sat so near to his Uxorious Heart,  
That rather he with Heaven, than Her will part.   

262.  
For part He must, unless He reconcile  
That mighty Breach which she between them made.  
O potent Sympathy! which canst beguile  
An Heart so pure and cleer-eyed and degrade  
Earth's Monarch from his native Pinnacle  
Of Innocence, as low as Death and Hell.   

263.  
He yields, and eats, and eating tears the great  
Creator's Law: yet tears not that alone,  
But rends his Bliss, his Health, his Life, and that  
Fair Robe of Purity 〈◊〉 He had on,  
Becoming Eves Companion no less  
In nature, than in shameful Nakedness.   

264.  
And thus indeed they began to judge between  
Evil and Good, whilst they themselves did see,  
Who until then no Evil thing had seen,  
But now can witness their own Misery;  
Which they with wrerched Aprons strive to heal,  
As if the leaves the Apples would conceal.   

265.  
Alas, nor they, nor all the Trees that grow  
In shady Paradise so thick and high  
Could any shelter unto them allow  
When he was pleased to search, who is all Eye.  
Yet by degrees he finds them, that they might  
With Deprecations salute his sight.   

266.  
Had he in Thunder and in Lightning spoke,  
And of fierce Vengeance breathed a flaming stream,  
Just had the Dialect been: But He did make  
A foft enquiry of the Fault, and seem  
To beg Confession, and to wait whilst they  
Did with their Crime their Penitence display.   

267.  
But they with Shifts, and Excusations try  
Not to excuse the Fact, but to defend,  
And by that wretched Impudence defy  
Mercy, which all this while did them attend.  
This forced Justice, who came rushing in,  
And did her Office upon saucy Sin.   

268.  
She first the Curse pronounced, which written was  
In adamantine Tables, ne'er to be  
Reversed by Pity: Then she forth did chase  
The proud Delinquents, and the Garden free  
From its unworthy Guests, appointing Fate  
To set a double Guard before the Gate.   

269.  
A Troop of Cherubs strait was marshaled  
In dreadful Order at the Eastern Gate;  
And then a flaming Falchion brandished  
Terror about the way, that none might at  
That door of Happiness pass in, but who  
By tried Purity through Fire could go.   

270.  
The Woeful Exiles were no sooner come:  
Into the wide World, but poor Adam sees  
The heavy Loss of his enclosed Home,  
Finding in stead of blessed Flowers and Trees,  
Thistles and Thorns all armed with pikes and pricks  
Amongst whose Crowd he vexed and tattered sticks   

271.  
Long did He strive and toil e'er He could make  
The Ground give fertile answer to his sweat:  
The righteous Earth did this due Vengeance take  
On his Rebellion; so did the great  
Cognation of Beasts and Birds, who broke  
Off from their sullen Necks his regal Yoke.   

272.  
Those who were able, muster up their might,  
And in their Maker's Quarrel Him pursue:  
The weaker, from his presence speed their flight,  
Professing now they knew no homage due:  
Thus by their fury Those, These by their Fear  
Equally frightful and vexatious were.   

273.  
No friend he had, but her who did betray  
Him to that Misery, unhappy Eve:  
And yet the reaping of his sweetest Joy,  
Of what was sweeter, did them both deprive;  
Their gains unable were to quit the cost,  
For now their dear Virginity was lost.   

274.  
Eve through many nauseous Months did pass  
E'er she could to her hardest travel come:  
O who can tell the Pangs by which she was  
Tortured and torn, when her unhappy Womb  
Itself unloaded! for the Curse was sure,  
Nor could those Torments ever find a Cure.   

275.  
In sin conceiving, she brought forth in pain,  
And with Pollution died her Progeny:  
Through all Successions her anneiled stain  
Did propagate its own Deformity,  
And all her Heirs bind in an Obligation  
Of Death, and what is deadlier, Damnation.   

276.  
Besides, the peevish and importunate 〈◊〉  
Of restless Kicking at heavens gentle Law,  
It's fretful Taint did in proud Triumph stretch  
Through the whole Current of her Blood which now  
In humane veins so madly boils and flames,  
That kindled at the fire of Hell it seems.   

277.  
Thus when black Venom has into the Spring  
Infused Death, the Streams which from it run,  
How far so e'er they travel, still they bring  
Along with them that first Contagion:  
The furthest Drop knows not how to escape  
The reach of that Original Mishap.   

278.  
Your Souls I grant, rise not from that foul Spring,  
Nor did they ever swim in Adam's veins:  
Yet is the Body so unclean a thing,  
That straight it doth communicate its Stains:  
Nor can the soul be pure which married is  
To so contagious a Spouse as this.   

279.  
Yet call not God unjust, who doth commit  
So fair a Gem unto so foul a Case,  
Thereby infallibly engaging it  
To be as black and cursed as its Place.  
O no: He still is kind and knows a way  
Through Wrath and Judgement, Mercy to display.   

280.  
No Plot of Satan's spite shall undermine  
Or make a breach in the Creation's frame:  
Nature shall still proceed, and heavens Design  
Of Man's felicity persist the same:  
Godlike it is indeed, Fates Scales to turn,  
And make them Blest, who to a Curse were born,   

281.  
Whilst God makes pure Souls dive into this stream  
Of Blackness, gracious He contriveth how  
To wash and cleanse and re-imbellish them  
Till they unto such powerful Beauty grow  
That sweetly on their Bodies they can be  
Revenged, infecting them with Purity,   

282.  
Such purging Might in Jesus Blood there flows,  
That from the face of its least Drop do fly  
This Stain which at the Root of Mankind grows,  
And all those Blots which on the Branches lie,  
And this dear Fountain, in Decree, was broached  
Long e'er the Soul by any Taint was touched.   

283.  
They who desire't may here refined be  
Into a Claritude becoming that  
High Paradise of whose felicity  
eden's was only the faint Shadow: But  
They who scorn such Bliss, would themselves have thrown  
To Hell though Eve had never helped them down.   

284.  
And tell me Psyche what thou thinkest now  
Of thy Extraction, which from wretched Dust,  
The Scumm of Earth, and game of Winds, doth flow;  
What of thy rotten Kindred, since thou must  
Corruption for thy Mother own, and call  
Each Worm thy Sister that in mire doth crawl.   

285.  
Yet Worms are ly'ble to one only Death,  
A Death which quickly will itself destroy:  
But thy Composure in its bosom hath  
A Living Poison, that may find a way  
To kill thee with surviving Death, by which  
Thy torture to Eternity shall reach.   

286.  
Think well on this, and if thou canst, be proud,  
Who by the Pride of thy first Parent's art  
With this destructive Portion endowed,  
And from thy Birth betrothed to endless Smart.  
Think what vast distance lies 'twixt worthless thee  
And the Almighty King of Majesty.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO VII. The Great Little One.  
ARGUMENT.  

THe Angel convoys Psyche to the Scene  
Of Mercies grand Exploits, to show Her what  
Dear Care Heaven took to wash her bosom clean  
From the foul shame of every sinful Blot.  
Betimes he begins, and from the morning Glory  
Of Love's bright Birth, lights in the blessed Story.   

1.  
ILlustrious Spirits of Fire, who e'er you be,  
This Lesson will be no discredit to  
Your towering Flames; nor must Heroick Ye  
To School to Psyche's Legend scorn to go:  
Such Sparks as you for all your glittering, be  
In your Original, as dim as she.   

2.  
As other Fires at length to Ashes grow,  
So must brave Ye: Yet they were lighted from  
Some generous bright Original; but you  
And your Extraction, did from Ashes come.  
Whether forward you, or backward turn your eye,  
Your Bounds are Vileness, Shame, and Misery.   

3.  
Examine Alexander's Monument,  
Or Helen's Tomb, and mark what there does lie:  
Or if your Nostrils dread the baneful sent  
Of their in-vain-embalmed Majesty;  
Trust that strong Proof, which bids you sadly think  
That you, though great and fair, must end in stink.   

4.  
But trust not Pride, whose tumid Treachery  
Did to that Rottenness all the World betray.  
No Poison yet did ever swell so high,  
Or to such certain Death prepare the way.  
Steep headlong Danger on the Mountains reigns:  
Let them who safe would walk, walk on the Plains.   

5.  
Plain are the Walks of mild Humility,  
And know no Precipice, but planted are  
With sweet Content, with pious Privacy,  
With cheerful Hope, and with securing Fear.  
An Humble Soul, which always dwells below,  
Prevents that Ruin which on Hills doth grow.   

6.  
The Tempest's aim is at those lofty Things  
Which rise against it, and its strength defy.  
This to the Pines and Oaks Destruction brings,  
Whilst modest Shrubbs beneath in peace do lie.  
Thus come proud Rocks to rue the angry Wind;  
Which to the humble Vales is always kind.   

7.  
Humility is provident, and acquaints  
Aforehand with her Ashes, which she knows  
Must be her End: She in no flattering Paints  
Her sober Judgement and herself will lose;  
She dies betimes, how long so e'er she lives,  
And Death but as a long known Friend receives.   

8.  
She hugs her Hearse, and does her Grave embrace,  
And pants and longs her final Even to see,  
When in that cool and undisturbed Place  
Her weary Head to rest may settled be:  
Assured of a Friend, whose Care hath found  
For Her to Heaven a passage under ground.   

9  
She strongly woos the Worms to crawl apace;  
She prays not slow Corruption to make haste:  
Toward Death for life she runs, and thinks her Race  
Is long because she yet lives: On as fast  
She speeds, as Sighs of Love can blow Her, or  
Fire of unquenchable Desire can spurr.   

10.  
O meek Ambition which correctest Pride  
Into a Virtue, and mak'st Venom grow  
Plain Antidote! An heart which thou dost guide  
Struggles and reaches still to be more low;  
And prides itself in nothing, but to be  
From Pride's Dominion entirely free.   

11.  
The Seeds of this fair Grace deep planted were  
In Psyche's tender Heart by Charis hand:  
Which as they sprouted up, with heavenly care  
To weed, and dress them, Phylax by did stand:  
And now, to make them flourish higher, she  
Will with her liberal Tears their Waterer be.   

12.  
For Phylax had no sooner made an end,  
But She begins, first by her showering Eyes;  
Then by her Tongue, which with their Tears did blend  
Its Lamentations: Woe is me, she cries,  
What now should Psyche do who needs would be  
Proud of her shame, and poisonous Misery?   

13.  
Your scorn, by wretched Me so deeply earned,  
My wronged Friends, at length let me obtain:  
O Charis, my all guilty Soul is burned  
By those fair Flames which in thine Aspect reign.  
How can such Night-birds as vile I endure  
The holy Lightning of a Look so pure?   

14.  
And Yoa, dear Phylax, lose your Pains no more  
Upon an undeserving hideous Thing.  
Why should proud Psyche dwell, as heretofore,  
Under the shelter of thy scorned Wing?  
O let it free itself, and take its flight;  
Why should black I defile an House so white!   

15.  
The odious Bat with more decorum will  
Flutter about a Thing as dark as she;  
And lend her sooty Wings to make a veil  
For correspondent ugliness in me.  
The ominous Raven will fitter be to spread  
Her swarthy Plumes on my polluted Head.   

16.  
Let me enjoy the sad Inheritance  
Of my deep-stained Birth: Was I not born  
Apparent Heir to an entailed Mischance?  
Did not my wretched Being's lowry Morn  
Dawn with eternal Night? Dwelled not Death in  
The fatal Spring of my parental sin?   

17.  
Why must my breath defile the Virgin Air?  
Why must I load the harmless Earth with Gild?  
Why must I slain the World, which would be fair  
If I were gone? My Tomb is ready built  
In any place where Filth, and Dunghills lie.  
Let Justice have her course, and let me die.   

18.  
My due Home is where Arrogance, and bold  
Rebellion dwell: O Let me thither go!  
May worthy Eyes behold the Suns fair Gold,  
And view their way to Heaven: I have to do  
With nought but Pitch and Darkness, which may hide  
The equal Horror of my wilful Pride,   

19  
My heavenly Spouse; (o why do I blaspheme!)  
That Spouse who long desired to be mine;  
Me thinks from Heaven doth with a piercing Beam  
Full on my face and faithless Bosom shine,  
And by that Light read all that Treason I  
Have wrought against his loving Majesty.   

20.  
O, it will scorch Me up I my Sinews crack,  
My Bones are burnt, and all my Marrow fries,  
My Bosom melts, the Flame devours my back,  
My Heart flows down, and woeful Psyche dies.  
I die; and yet I breathe: My Death lives still:  
No kind of Slaughter e'er like this did kill.   

21.  
Surely the Flames which make all Hell so black,  
Are cool and gentle, if compared with these:  
Why go I not to take my Kinder Rack,  
And in th' infernal Torments find some Ease?  
Have done fond fruitless Tears; you are too weak  
The greater Torrent of this Fire to slake.   

22.  
Here Phylax here, lo I myself ungird;  
This Token can no treacherous Heart befit:  
Return it back to my abused Lord,  
And beg my Pardon who have stained it.  
What will it not unbuckle? Must I be  
Still Prisoner to his wronged Courtesy?   

23.  
And must this Girdle now besiege Me round  
With an indissoluble Check of my  
Disloyalty? Must I thus close be bound  
Up in myself, and not have room to fly  
From what I hate far more than Death and Hell,  
The sinful Blots of which this Breast is full?   

24.  
So straight upon my gripped Soul the Chains  
Of deep Damnation can no Torments tie,  
As this sweet Cincture binds me to the Pains  
Of self-confusion. O Me!— Here her Cry  
Did with her Spirits faint; and down she fell  
Griefs total Prey, and Pities Spectacle.   

25.  
Pity was near; For Charis stood close by,  
Whose yearning bowels all this while did move:  
But roused more by herfall, she instantly  
Obeyed the nimble Violence of Love;  
Love moved her Heart, and that her Hand, by which  
To fainting Psyche she relief did reach.   

26.  
She took her up, and with a sweet Embrace  
Instilled gentle Warmth into her Breast,  
Whose never-failing Virtue did displace  
Griefs vast Plethora which had her oppressed,  
And by delicious degrees restore  
Her ship wracked Thoughts to their composed shore.   

27.  
So have I seen a wise Physician  
New spirits to his swooning Patient give,  
Who, though his Heart before were sunk and gone,  
Doth by the Potion it again receive,  
Whilst in the cheerly salutiferous Cup  
A draught of liquid Life he drinketh up.   

28.  
Awakened Psyche, with amazed Eyes  
Beheld her Friends; but wondered more to see  
Her stout Disease made a tame Sacrifice  
Unto that heavenly Cordial which she  
Felt reigning in her breast, and which did seize  
Her Heart both with Astonishment and Ease.   

29.  
Ambiguous Fancies tossed her up and down  
Uncertain whether some Dreams Flattery  
Into a vain Elysium had thrown  
Her cheated Soul, or whether truly she  
Was by some courteous Gale snatched from the Billows  
And on the Bank laid safe on Peace's pillows   

30.  
Which Charis seeing; You may trust, said she  
Your sudden Happiness, which wears no Cheat.  
But see that you misplace no thanks on Me;  
Which all are more than due unto your great  
And constant Spouse, who though forgot by You,  
Could not his Love away so quickly throw.   

31.  
Those life-renewing Sweets I brought you down,  
Were none of mine: He sent both me and them:  
He knew your Wants and counted them his own,  
Who longs to have you be all one with him.  
Then by these Comforts which have cured your Smart  
Learn who it is that most deserves your Heart,   

32.  
O'r-powred with unwieldy Thanks and Praise,  
At this vast Tide of her obtruding Bliss,  
Here Psyche strove her labouring Breast to ease,  
Yet neither Thanks nor Praise she could express:  
For what she had conceived, was so great  
She neither could contain, nor utter it.   

33.  
But Phylax seeing her sweet Agony,  
Cried, 'tis enough, Heaven can hear mute Desires.  
Come Psyche, you shall travel now with me  
To find full fuel for your amorous Fires.  
It will be worth your voyage when you see  
What Balm did grow to heal your Misery.   

34.  
The God of Goodness by his powerful Eye  
Reaching those Things which yet were short of Being,  
Did in the Volumes of Eternity  
Read all the future World: where clearly seeing  
What mischief would be done by foolish Pride,  
A potent Remedy He did provide.   

35.  
Indeed had no Redemption invited  
Thy Spouse to Feast the World with his dear Blood,  
Yet to Man's Nature he would have united  
His own, that the Creation might have stood  
Fast tied unto its Maker, and by this  
Conjunction, been near sharer in his Bliss.   

36.  
But seeing by Hereditarie Stains  
The Stream of Humane Blood runs foul and black,  
It found work for the virtue of his Veins  
The Poison of the tainted Flood to check:  
Which nobly he performed, as thou shalt see  
When I have led thee through his History.   

37.  
As she now cheered her heart and countenance up,  
A radiant Chariot caught her wondering Eye;  
The winged Steeds foamed at that little stop,  
And though their Wings were down, their thoughts did fly.  
Speed was the Chariot's Mettle, and each Wheel  
Composed was of never-tyring Zeal.   

38.  
Come Psyche, come, this Couch for haste doth call,  
Cried Phylax; fear not, 'tis no cheating one,  
Nor, like thy last, will bear thee to thy Fall;  
I mean to hold the Reigns: Come let's be one,  
If you, sweet Sir, will have it so, content  
Said she, and meekly blushing, in she went.   

39  
Up flew Devotion, and Chastity  
The gallant Steeds which did the Chariot draw,  
Her native Albion soon began to be  
Lost in a Sea of Air; and now she saw  
The wealthy Fields of Gallia, which as fast  
Behind her fled as she did forward post.   

40.  
Then climbing higher in her yielding Way,  
Eternal Banks of obstinate Frost and Snow  
Which Winter on the Alps high back did lay,  
Spite of the nearer Sun, she leaves below,  
And through the tumult of the justling Clouds  
Down into the Italian Heaven she crowds.   

41.  
From thence she launched into that Region  
Which by the Adriatic Storms doth frown,  
And sped her course above that Ocean  
About whose sides the Midland shores are thrown:  
So well did Phylax steer, that to a Port  
So far off, ne'er was made a Cut so short.   

42.  
For having reached blest Palestine, she flew  
Over the grovelling Towns of Galilee,  
Until the Steeds, as if the place they knew,  
At Nazareth broke off their Course; where she  
Viewing the simple Village, wondered why  
Her Convoy, thither took such pains to fly.   

43.  
But Phylax having led her by the Hand  
To the unlikliest House; Behold, said he,  
This precious Monument, which still doth stand  
To chide their Arrogance who needs will be  
Immured in Cedar, and roofed o'er with Gold:  
O who would think poor Dust should be so bold!   

44.  
This silly Mansion, though it scarce would win  
Even Poverty itself in it to dwell,  
Was once the House & Home, where the bright Queen  
Of Glories kept her Court; in this mean Cell  
Dwelled She in whose illustrious Family  
All Heaven desired a Sojourner to be.   

45.  
She, the transcendent Crown of Females, She  
Great jacob's Ladder, Aaron's budding Rod,  
The Crystal Princess of Virginity,  
David's fair Tower, the Mother of her God,  
Mary herself: O may that lovely Name  
Be Blessings Nest, and the dear Theme of Fame.   

46.  
There her plain Cates she eat, or rather kept  
Her healthful Rules of sober Abstinence:  
There did she ply her Prayers, and there she slept  
When midnight Zeal had tired her mortal Sense,  
No Corner was in all this House, but she  
Did dedicate it unto Piety.   

47.  
How many Temples in this narrow Room  
Erected were by her Devotion,  
Who taught all Virtues here to take their Home!  
But if Sin knocked, She bid it strait be gone;  
For at her Door Humility she set:  
A Potter which would no such Guests admit.   

48.  
Here, on her pious knees, she wept, one day,  
In wondering Meditation of that She  
Whom God would choose to make the noble Way  
Unto his own foretell Humanity,  
O how she blessed that Soul, who ever was  
To be advanced to that matchless Grace!   

49.  
Not for a thousand Worlds would she have thought  
Herself the long-designed She; but rather  
Would with a thousand thousand more have bought  
An Handmaids place to wait upon that Mother,  
To kiss her blessed feet, or bear her Train,  
In whom all Excellence rejoiced to reign.   

50.  
But whilst her meek admiring Fancy flies  
Through this high Contemplation, which drew  
Applauding joyous Crystal from her Eyes;  
A bright and gallant Stranger hither flew;  
One who from Heaven her sweet reflection brings,  
Looking almost like Her, but for his Wings.   

51.  
Youth bloomed in his Face, the blessed Throne  
Where purest Beauties in fair Triumph sat;  
Their brisk and sparkling Combination  
All ravishing Joys into his Eyes had put:  
His Looks commanded Love, but did withal  
By potent Purity all Lust forestall.   

52.  
His Head was crowned with its own golden Hair,  
Which down his back its dainty Wealth did shed:  
The Alabaster of his Neck was bare  
Sweetly betraying what below was hid  
In the green ambush of his Robe of Silk,  
The Curtain drawn upon his Fleshy Milk.   

53.  
That Robe was guarded with the orient Lace  
Which on Aurora's Virgin Coat you see.  
Neglect seemed to have put it on; yet Grace  
And Comeliness would not prevented be,  
But did in every careless fold and pleit  
To catch Spectators Wonder lie in wait.   

54.  
A silver Girdle did his Loins embrace  
With the pressed fashion of Travellers:  
Like Love's sweet Bow his left Arm bended was  
Upon his Side, whilst high his Right Hand bears  
A Lily, which from thence received more  
Sweetness and Whiteness than it had before.   

55.  
The Candour of his Wings was no such kind  
Of glaring thing, as in the Alpine Snow,  
Or on the purest Cygnets neck we find,  
Or on the soft face of new Milk doth flow:  
But a celestial Tincture pure and bright,  
Made not by scorching, but by whitening Light.   

56.  
He was an heavenly Citizen, and one  
Whose place is in an higher form than mine;  
In near attendance on his Maker's Throne  
He with his Archangelick beams doth shine,  
Whence he, when Heaven has greatest business here,  
Dispatched is the choice Ambassador.   

57  
But though his Eyes their education had  
Amongst those Claritudes which gilled the skies,  
They never yet at Home did seem to read  
So much of Heaven at large, as here he spies  
Epitomised in the lovely Glass  
Of mary's modestly-illustrious face.   

58.  
And, Hail, said He, Thou dearest Favourite  
Of our great King, in whose selected Breast  
His Majesty with singular delight  
Doth take his private, and mysterious rest.  
Hail thou the Crown of Females, on whose Head  
Their best exuberance all Blessings shed.   

59  
The humble Virgin started at the sight,  
But much more at the Salutation:  
The complemental Youth did her affright  
Who used such charming Company to shun;  
Until his Wings admonished her that he  
One of her wont heavenly Guests might be.   

60.  
But yet her lowly Soul could not digest  
The tumour of that strange Hyperbole,  
Which still she bolted in her thoughtful Breast,  
Being suspicious lest some Flattery  
Had borrowed an Angelic shape, by which  
A Woman it more easily might bewitch.   

61.  
O strange, but nobly-pretious jealousy  
Which only dost in holy Bosoms rest:  
Thou art the Bar which dost access deny  
To whatsoever might an Heart molest:  
Pride, Usher to all Sins, comes not near thee,  
So low thou liest, so high strutteth he.   

62.  
When Gabriel observed her doubtful Look,  
Where Blushes, and where Paleness mutually  
Their fearful and their modest Stations took;  
Marry, said He, thy meek Anxiety  
May spare its pains; No Danger dares draw near  
Her whom the Prince of Power doth hold so dear.   

63.  
He who is Lord of Love, hath sealed on thee  
His amorous Heart: the choicest of his Graces,  
The flower of all his Sweets, th' Immensity  
Of his best Favours, and his Joys, he places  
On thee alone, whom he exalts as high  
As thou art sunk in thy Humility.   

64.  
Witness this Message I have now to tell,  
How much too glorious for Me to bring!  
The only Message which could parallel  
The boundless Love of heavens enamoured King:  
A Message which the World hath long expected,  
But fit to thee alone to be directed.   

65.  
Behold thy blessed Womb shall Fertile be  
With a more blessed Son, whom at the due  
And wont Season of Maturity,  
Thou to this Light, less fair than him, shalt show:  
Nor needest thou study to contrive the frame  
Of his due Title, JESUS is the Name.   

66.  
More reason shall that Name find in thy Son,  
Than it of old did in Nuns warlike Heir,  
More noble shall be that Salvation  
By which his Israel he will repair,  
Than that which from Beersheba unto Dan  
Gave them no more but earthly Canaan.   

67.  
He shall be Great, as Great as Might and Worth  
Can swell an Heros; or as stoutest Fame  
Can with her fairest widest Trump blow forth,  
Which shall be stretched with his magnific Name;  
For to proclaim his sovereignty,  
His Style shall run, The Son of the Most High.   

68  
He who is Lord of Crowns, and supreme King  
Of Sceptres, shall establish him upon  
His Seat from whose high lineage he shall spring,  
His most renowned Father David's Throne:  
Where he a King of nobler Peace shall sit  
Than Solomon with all his Wealth and Wit.   

69.  
All jacob's Seed to him shall homage do,  
And governed be by his more gentle Law:  
Yea Time itself shall be his Subject too,  
And his long scythe unto his Sceptre bow:  
The Earth shall sink, the heavens shall melt, but he  
Shall reach his Kingdom to Eternity.   

70.  
And here the Angel paused: But trembling she,  
Veiled in the scarlet of her modest Cheek,  
Replied, Bright Sir, it seems you know not Me  
A worthless Maid, who for your high Mistake  
Wear no pretence: nor may so great a King  
From a vile Worms polluted Bowels spring,   

71.  
Yet though this Vileness be sufficient to  
Excuse Me from such Exaltation:  
Be pleased to know, I am that Mary, who  
Finding myself too mean for any Son  
Of Princely David's Progeny to wed,  
Resolved to die upon my virgin Bed.   

72.  
So shall no sprouts from my unhappy Root  
Clog the World with their fruitless Company;  
So shall I scape parental Tasks, and not  
With children's Education burdened be,  
Who find such Work as poseth all my Art  
In ordering mine own untoward Heart   

73.  
Though I to Joseph now espoused am,  
'Tis but to shelter my Virginity,  
In whose defence he wears an Husband's Name,  
And of my Weakness will Protector be.  
My Word is past, that I to God will give  
My Body back, as I did it receive.   

74.  
Alas, what other Sacrifice have I  
To render Him for all his patient Love  
Wherewith he hath thus long sustained my  
Rebellious Life, and mercifully strove  
With my Demerits! O bid me not aspire  
To what transcends my Reach, and my Desire.   

75.  
Miraculous Meekness! How would other Hearts  
Have leap d to catch this matchless Dignity,  
From which this most deserving Virgin starts!  
O how wouldst thou thyself have joyed to see  
So high an offer! What wouldst thou have said  
Had thy Agenor Gabriels Promise made?   

76.  
Her Answer forced his Admiration higher,  
And opened the Door to this sublime Reply:  
Heaven is not ignorant of thy sweet Desire;  
Thy gallant Vow stands registered on high  
Upon a Table near as white and fair  
As thine own Heart, and Resolutions are.   

77.  
Such Vows are Jewels, even in heavens esteem,  
Which is the pure Realm of Virginity:  
For there th' Eternal Father wears this Gem,  
With whom the Son and Spirit, Virgins be:  
After whose fair Example We aspire,  
And copy it in all our Winged Quire.   

78.  
Through Mounts of Miracles God breaks open a way  
To keep thee'still as pure as thy Desire:  
When All Things in their first Confusion lay,  
Being a shapeless grovelling Mass of Mire;  
Who would have thought the Womb of that Abyss  
Could have produced so fair a World as this?   

79.  
But then th' Almighty Spirit spread his Wing  
Upon those hopeless Volumes of the Deep;  
And by his generative Warmth did bring  
To light those Seeds which in that Night did sleep:  
Thus all this populous Universe you see,  
Sprung from the Bowels of Virginity.   

80.  
This Holy Spirit over Thee shall hover,  
And with prolific Virtue thee endow:  
He who on Powers Top doth reign, shall cover  
Thee with his Might; a Might which will allow  
Nature no leave nor possibility  
To contradict a Virgin-pregnancie.   

81.  
This is one Cause, (and 'tis a noble one)  
Why He who shall thy glorious Offspring be  
Shall wear the Sovereign Title of the Son  
Of God; for genuine Divinity  
Shall be 〈◊〉, but in a mystic fashion,  
In the great Business of his Generation.   

82.  
Doubt not his Power, whose well-known Limits spread  
Wide as his boundless Will: the whole World knows  
How Sarahs' dead Womb now doth live in seed  
Which past the shores of Numeration flows:  
How the Priests Rod its sudden Almonds ought  
Neither to Soil nor Seed, nor Sap nor Root.   

83.  
But I have mighty News to tell thee: She  
Whose snowy Head confessed her Springs was past,  
Thy Cousin both in Blood and Piety,  
Cold, dry Elizabeth, hath now at last  
Conceived a Son; an argument to thee  
How Nature can by Heaven corrected be.   

84.  
The World had stamped the Name of Barren on  
Her sealed Womb, and damned the way to Hope  
Of any Seed; yet five full Months are gone,  
And now the sixth succeeds, since Heaven did open  
That froazen Seal: good cause have I to know  
The Time, who was employed then, as now.   

85.  
I bore the Tidings to great Zachary,  
And when his trembling jealous Soul would not  
Credit my supernatural Embassy,  
I on his Tongue a Lock of Silence put,  
That he might know God could as easily open  
His Spouses Womb, as I his Mouth could stop.   

86.  
His Silence bids thee trust these Words of mine;  
And, since the Hopes of Heaven and Earth attend  
With panting Expectation for thine  
Assent, on which their noblest Joys depend:  
For their sakes yield; and for thy Makers, who  
By Me his best-beloved Spouse doth woo.   

87.  
He e'er since Times first Birth did wait for thee  
And has endured a World of Sin below,  
Stretching his strongly-patient Constancy  
Through every Age of Wickedness till now;  
Knowing that Time at length would bring forth thee  
The sweet Reward of all his Lenity.   

88  
And now thy mighty Hour is come; o why  
Mak'st thou a gentle Virtue prove so hard,  
Why by thy rigorous Humility  
Must ripened Joy and Happiness be barred  
From all the Universe! O why wilt thou  
Not let the golden Age have leave to grow?   

89.  
Why must the gloomy Shadows which have now  
Weighed their heavy Wings, in hopes to fly,  
Return their Night upon Religion's Brow,  
Which began to clear up at the Dawn of thy  
Long longed-for Birth; and wouldst thou but give way  
Would strait break open into Grace's Day.   

90.  
As when the Moisture which contented was  
To dwell below, and nestle in the Earth,  
Is by the powerful Sun enticed to pass  
Unto an higher Home: it issues forth  
With gentle Resignation, and doth rise  
In mere submission to dwell near the Skies:   

91.  
So now the lowly Virgin conquered by  
The potent Pleasure of her loving Spouse,  
Exceeds her old, by new Humility;  
And with herself, her former Meekness throws  
Before his feet, content to be whatever  
His most victorious Love would make of Her.   

92.  
Behold, said she, The Handmaid of the Lord,  
(For he hath given Me leave to use that Style,)  
Since Heaven will have it so, may thy great Word  
My worthless Bowels with Performance fill:  
To Him who made Me, I myself resign;  
'Tis fit His Pleasure, and not mine, be Mine;   

93.  
This blessed Word no sooner broke from her  
Sweet Lips, but to the Top of Heaven it flew;  
Where in the Mouths of all the winged Choir  
It found its Echo, and was made a new  
And precious Anthem; for the Spheres that Day  
Measured their high Dance by this only Lay.   

94.  
All Nature heard the Sound, which in her Ear  
Spoke, Life, and Joy, and Restauration.  
O blessed Music, which so cheered Her,  
That her old Wrinkles into Smiles did run;  
Fresh Fire she glowing felt in every Vein,  
And briskly thought of growing young again.   

95.  
For now that Spirit which first quickened her  
Returned again, and flew to mary's breast.  
O what Excess of Sweets and Joys did bear  
Him company unto his Virgin Nest!  
O what pure streams of Light, what glorious showers  
Of most enlivening, and prolific Powers!   

96.  
With these flew down Enternities great Son  
To be a Son of Time; and parting from  
His Father's Bosom, Glories sweetest Throne,  
Chose Ashes for his House, Dust for his Home.  
Having taught Exaltation to bow,  
And of the Most High made Himself Most Low.   

97.  
In vain should I, or all the Angels strive  
To reach at that impossible Eloquence  
Which might a paralled Description wove  
For that immense mysterious Confluence  
Of purest Joys, with which in this Embrace  
The most ennobled Virgin ravished was.   

98.  
Only her spacious Soul, the blessed Sea  
Where all those Floods of precious Things did meet,  
Knew what it comprehended: Glorious She  
Did taste the relish of each mystic Sweet  
In one miraculous Instant, and did try  
The various Dainties of Divinity,   

99  
For though this Generation had been  
The deepest Project of Eternity,  
Yet were its Wonders all transacted in  
Durations most concise Epitome.  
One single Moment crowned was with this  
Exploit of most unbounded Power and Bliss.   

100  
O mighty Moment! at whose feet, all Days  
And Months, and Years, and Ages, homage pay:  
Upon whose Head Time all its Glories lays,  
Wishing that thou migt'st never slide away:  
Eternity holds itself deep in debt  
To thee, in whom its sweetest Wonders meet.   

101.  
This Universe for ever thou dost tie  
Close to its greater Maker: Thou dost join  
These Mortal Things to Immortality,  
And in one Knot both Heaven and Earth combine:  
Thou giv'st Fertility a newfound Home,  
And bid'st it flourish in a Virgin-Womb.   

102.  
For Mary now the Mansion-house became  
Of her conceived God, who deigned to take  
His Pattern from her reverend Bodies frame  
And borrow part of Her, thereby to make  
A Garment for himself, that he might be  
As true and genuine Flesh and Blood as she.   

103.  
O Paradise how poor a Soil art Thou  
To the rare Richnes' of this Virgin Bed!  
That Tree of Life which in thy Heart did grow,  
Itself but as the shade of this was spread:  
Here is the Garden where the noble Tree  
Of everlasting Life would planted be.   

104.  
Blush all ye heavens; the gallant Virgin's Womb  
Hath left no Looks but those of shame for You;  
All Glories here have chose their dearer Home;  
And fairer shine, because They make no show:  
Here dwells a Sun whose Count'nance is a Book  
So bright; your Phoebus dares not on it look.   

105.  
The most resplendent equal Character,  
The flaming Brightness of the Father's Face,  
Hath now vouchsafed to exchange his Sphere,  
And in this lesser Heaven to plant his Rays:  
Which yet He hath so sweetened and allayed,  
That He consumeth not the tender Maid.   

106.  
Thus, when to Moses He came down of old  
Arrayed all in fire, and took his Seat  
Upon a simple Bush; his flaming Gold  
In mercy to the shrubb, reined in its Heat,  
And all the leaves with harmless Brightness filled,  
Which He was pleased not to Burn, but Gild.   

107.  
When Gabriel had seen this wondrous sight  
He bowed his holy Head, first to adore  
His new-conceived Lord, wishing he might  
Have made his dwelling on this blessed Floor;  
And then to take his reverend leave of Her,  
Whom yet to Heaven He in his mind did bear.   

108.  
Whether as He mounted up, the News He tells  
To every Orb and Star; but chiefly to  
Th' inquisitive Spirits, whose ears and hearts he fills  
With all the Wonders He had seen below,  
Till with applause from every Angel's Tongue  
The precious Name or humble Mary rung.   

109.  
Thus Phylax spoke. When Psyche filled with Joy  
And Admiration, cried Why may not I  
Have leave in this dear Mansion to stay?  
Where can I better live, or sweetlier die:  
Humilities own Palace best will fit  
Me who through Pride stand most in need of it.   

110.  
If that be thy Desire, thou straight shalt see  
Phylax replied, a fairer House than this,  
Fairer in more transcendent Poverty,  
And nobler far in higher Lowliness.  
With that, into the Chariot again  
He takes her up, and gently moves the Rein.   

111.  
The ready steeds no more Monition needed,  
For through the Air they Snatched their greedy way,  
And o'er the Galilean Regions sped;  
No Hills were high enough to bid them stay,  
No winds outran them; but to Bethlehem  
Well near as soons their Drivers thought they came.   

112.  
There lighting down; Behold this Town, my Dear  
The Guardian cried where Fame once loved to grow:  
Jesse's illustrious Sonn was nurtured here;  
Here reverend Samuel did prepare his Brow  
For royal Honour, when upon his Head  
The Crowns rich Ernest, holy Oil he shed.   

113.  
This chosen Root, in Kings was fertile, whose  
Successive Hands through many Ages bore  
The Jewish Sceptre; till with other Foes  
Sin, stronger than the rest, combined and tore,  
It from its guilty Owners far from Home,  
First unto Babylon and next to Rome.   

114.  
Rome holds it still; and makes this wretched Land  
Pay that sad Debt its Wickedness contracted:  
How oft has an imperious Command  
Heavy blood-squeazing Taxes here exacted!  
Drowning in Gall this servile Country now  
Which did of old with Milk and Honey flow.   

115.  
(Such miserable Gains fond wilful Men  
Condemned are to reap, who needs will be  
Driving the self-destoying Trade of sin:  
To such heart-galling Bonds of Tyranny;  
All those unhappy Nations make haste  
Who from their Necks heavens gentle Yoke do cast.)   

116.  
This golden Trick Augustus learned, and  
Summoned the People to a general Tax:  
The Warrants straight awakened all the Land,  
And every One to pay his Homage packs  
To his parental Town, the Register  
Of Tribes and Kindred's being settled there.   

117.  
This cost good Joseph and his blessed Spouse  
A tedious journey, for the Way was long,  
But short the Days: in Winter's inmost House  
(Cold churlish Capricorn) the Sun had clung  
The Morning and the Even so close together,  
That there was left no room for cheerly Weather.   

118.  
The holy Travellers through Cold and Frost  
And Northern Blasts, took their unworthy way:  
(What pious Heart would not have been at cost  
Of its warm Sighs, that sharp Breath to allay!)  
Yet slowly went, for Mary's time was come,  
And God lay heavy in her tender Womb.   

119.  
Alas She to her Travel traveled,  
And came at length all-weary to the Town:  
Where the poor Curtsy of an hired Bed  
To lay her weatherbeaten Body down,  
She hoped to find: But Winter now had cast  
On Men, as well as on the Earth a Frost.   

120.  
The Men were Ice; so were their Doors; for both  
Were frozen up against poor looking Guests;  
Where e'er they knocked, the surly Host was wroth,  
And cried, my House is full. Indeed those Nests  
Were only courteous 〈◊〉, which barred out  
All Birds but those which feathers for them brought.   

121.  
The Inns by silken and by purple Things  
Were taken up; each Gallant must have room;  
Room for his great Self; Room for those He brings  
To make Him greater; Room for what doth come  
Swelling about Him, his fond State and Port,  
Which in a Chamber must alone keep Court.   

122.  
Thus was the Universe's King shut out  
Of his own World as He was entering in:  
Long had the tired Pilgrims sought about,  
And yet at no Door could Admission win:  
And now Night crowded on apace, and drew  
Their Curtains who as yet no Lodging knew.   

123.  
Amongst the other Beasts this made them call  
For Pity, seeing none was left with Men:  
Observe that Rock, which all along the Wall  
Lifts up its Head to meet the Eastern Sun:  
See'st thou the craggy Mouth it opens? That  
Was then the Hospitable Stables gate.   

124.  
Come near and mark it well: This Caverne was  
The homely Lodging of an honest Ox,  
Whose Chamber-fellow was a simple Ass:  
Neither the House nor Dwellers needed Locks  
Or Barrs, or Host, to keep the door, and make  
Intruding despiceble Guests turn back.   

125.  
But to rejected joseph and his Spouse  
This Rock less stony proves, than all the Town;  
The pair of courteous Beasts to them allows  
Far more Humanity than They whose own  
Nature engaged them to be Men, and kind  
To those at least in whom Themselves they find.   

126.  
In went the blessed Travellers, and from  
The Beasts, whose Hearts no Avarice had scared,  
Borrowed a portion both of their Room  
And of their Straw; and there their Bed prepared:  
Where to a Temple having turned the Cave,  
Themselves to Rest they after Vespers gave.   

127.  
But though sleep sealed up the Virgin's Eye,  
Her Heart was watchful and did Travel still;  
It travelled through a Visions Mystery,  
But of this Way no weariness did feel.  
Her Womb seemed all on fire, whence issued out  
A flash of Lightning and whirled round about.   

128.  
It whirled about the World, and in its way  
Devoured every thing composed of Dross,  
Of idle stubble or of fainting Hay:  
The silver Creatures bear somelittle Loss;  
But those of genuine Gold, grew only more  
Illustrious and youthful than before.   

129.  
The World refined by this searching flame,  
In every part grew radiant and brave;  
No Blemish, or Capacity of Blame  
Peeped out from East to West; but all things gave  
A fair account of their own selves, and by  
Their perfect Beauty satisfied heavens Eye,   

130.  
Whilst on this splendid Reformation She  
Her Wonder pour's; Dame Nature's vigilant Clock  
Discovering Midnight, roused her Piety  
Unto its wont Task: The earliest Cock  
Had rarely crowed e'er she began to pray;  
But here you know she faint and tired lay.   

131.  
Yet, to bring forth her Prayers, she rose: But now  
A greater Birth was ripe; Nights silent Fear  
With the grim Powers of Darkness bold did grow,  
And on the sleeping World's face domineer;  
Little suspecting that an High-noon Day  
From Midnights bosom could break out its way.   

132.  
When LO the Virgin bringeth forth her Son,  
Who by the Glories of his own sweet Face  
Commands the dusky Shadows to be gone  
And to his full-tide Day resign their place.  
Her friends about Her, Sovereign Pleasures were,  
Joy was the Midwife which assisted Her.   

133.  
No faintings chilled her Heart, no Pangs did tear  
Her Privileged Bowels, nor no Cry her Throat:  
Those sad Revenues all entailed were  
Upon polluted 〈◊〉: She whom no Blot  
Of sinful pleasure could pretend to slain,  
Advanced was beyond the Shot of Pain.   

134.  
No Circumstance of Shame, or Filth did blur  
The noble Birth the Work was pure and clean:  
Shame on those Hearts whose Thoughts deflowered Her  
Accomplished Purities unspotted Queen:  
Shame on their slovenish 〈◊〉, whose Brains  
Raised near a Fount to wash the Infant's stains.   

135.  
Her dear Virginity remained the same  
Unbroken Jewel that it was before:  
As God into Her reverend Bowels came  
Yet never stayed to open any door;  
So He returned thence, that devoted She  
Might still a Virgin, though a Mother be.   

136.  
Thus when the Virgin-Soul is big with Thought,  
Without all Pangs, and Stains, and Ruptures, She  
〈◊〉 of Her Burden is, and out  
Her Offspring comes all clad in Purity.  
Thus when the fire the beauteous flame brings forth '  
As pure it keeps as 'twas before that Birth.   

137.  
Thus when heavens Light doth through the Window press,  
It bears the Colours it found painted there,  
Yet neither breaks nor robs, nor blurs the Glass,  
But makes its Beauties more advanced and clear.  
Thus when a Brood of 〈◊〉 fills the Air,  
Their Mother flowers still no less Virgins are.   

138.  
Thus though great Phoebus every Morning springs  
From fair Aurora's lap, yet she a Maid  
Remains, as pure as are those smiling Things,  
Those Roseal Blushes at her portal laid;  
Heaven being pleased to contrive this Way  
To make Her Virgin-Mother of the Day.   

139.  
But o, Aurora's Day is Night to this  
Which in the Night from Mary's womb did Rise:  
This was the Day of 〈◊〉, of Love, of Bliss,  
The Day of Jewels and of Rarities,  
The Day of Miracles, the conquering Day  
Which never shall to any Night give way,   

140.  
The Day which made Immensity become  
A Little One; which printed more than May  
Upon December's face; which drew the Sum  
Of Paradise into one Bud; the Day  
Which shrunk 〈◊〉 into a Span  
Of Time, Heaven into Earth, God into Man.   

141.  
heavens twinkling Lights shut up their dazzled Eyes,  
And paid their blind Devotion to the Dawn  
Of Jacob's Star: The Moon did sacrifice  
Her silver Beams unto 〈◊〉 golden Crown  
Of Glories, which their royal Circle made  
About the place where the bright Child was laid.   

142.  
His softest Feathers Winter thither sent  
To be a 〈◊〉 for the Infant's Head;  
And sure no Harm the honest Season meant  
When in the Cave his fluttering Snow He spread:  
But at his Presence into Tears they fell,  
Seeing a whiter chaster Spectacle.   

143.  
Fain would the most illustrious Host of Heaven,  
Whose Wings were up, whose Thoughts already flew,  
Have hither marched, and to their Sovereign given  
A Volley of full Praise and Thanks: But due  
To the dear Mother's brave Devotion  
Was this great Grace, first to salute her Son.   

144.  
She therefore, (having with exuberant Joy  
Beheld the Wonder which herself had bred;  
And, opening through applauding Tears the way  
To her exultant 〈◊〉, offered  
Herself a prostrate Sacrifice before  
His feet; and taught the World what to adore;)   

145.  
Cried, O my precious Son, and more than mine,  
How shall thy worthless Mother and thy Maid  
With due Attendauce wait on thy divine  
Cradle, without thine own almighty Aid!  
How shall my wretched Dust Great Thee embrace,  
On whom the brightest Angels durst not gaze!   

146.  
These words waked pious Joseph: Who when he  
Beheld the Infant, stayed not to ask  
Whose, or whence was that blooming Majesty,  
But strait bows down himself to his due Task.  
Those Beams of such convincing Sweetness were,  
That He concludes his God must needs be there.   

147.  
With lowly Adoration on the Floor  
The dear example of his heavenly Spouse  
He sweetly copied, and his Soul did pour  
Forth in ecstatick Thanks, and Praise, and Vows:  
For at the radiant Casement of those Eyes  
God looking out, called for that Sacrifice.   

148.  
Those dainty Easts of gentle living Light,  
Those diamond Quivers of divinest Love,  
Those Wells of ever-springing Joys, those bright  
Mirrors of purer Beauties than do move  
About the silver heavens when Night is fine,  
Or when the Day in Cancer's height doth shine.   

149.  
As the Doves Eyes thrice washed in milk, upon  
The neighbour Rivers Crystal, move and play,  
So on the Mother did this Spotless Son 
Cantic. 5. 19   
The Purity of his fair Looks display;  
That by his Eye he might himself approve  
Conceived by none but heavens eternal Dove.   

150.  
His skin, the seat of softest White and Red,  
Did that delicious Conjunction show  
By which his Mothers Blush was married 
vers. 10.   
Unto that lovely Doves all-Snowie Hue.  
Ten thousand Ladies pencils ne'er could teach  
A Skin so rich perfection to reach.   

151.  
His goodly Head is of refined Gold 
vers. 11.   
Being itself unto itself a Crown.  
O that the fond bewitched Worldlings would  
Exchange their Avarice, and once fall down  
To worship this diviner Mettle, which  
With surer Wealth their Coffins would enrich.   

152.  
The gentle Hillocks of his Cheek present 
vers. 13.   
Two soft and living Beds of precious Spice,  
With which their flowery Neighbours blend their scent,  
And in one fragrant Combination rise.  
His Lips, like Lilies, whensoever thy stir,  
Thick Blessing drop of odoriferous Myrrh.   

153.  
As beryls marshaled in golden Rings, 
vers. 14   
So in his richer Hands are Graces set:  
As Ivory which prides the Throves of Kings  
When Streaks of Saphires Lustre garnish it,  
Such is his lovely Belly; only this  
Thrills through its Beauty, Warmth, and Tenderness,   

154.  
As slender Pillars of white Marble, which 
vers. 15.   
On Sockets of the finest Gold do stand,  
So his fair Legs are builded on his rich  
And graceful Feet. His Aspect doth transcend  
The loftiest Excellence of Cedars, when  
They look from their Majestic Lebanon.   

155.  
His Mouth the Gate of Sweetness is, and he 
vers. 16.   
Is round arrayed with nothing else but Love.  
In this miraculous Epitome  
All choice Extremities of Glory strove  
Which should be most Extreme, and in that fair  
Contention, every One was Conqueror.   

156.  
As Joseph with these Wonders Feasts his Eye;  
The reverend Mother on her Sons dear Feet  
A consecrated Kiss presents; and by  
That Taste encouraged unto a sweet  
Audacity, she ventured to sip  
The roseal Dainties of his heavenly Lip.   

157.  
O noble Kiss! which might a Seraph hire  
His highest Orb to leave, his Mouth to wipe,  
In hopes to drink in more delicious Fire  
From this young Altar, than from all the ripe  
Flames of the Empyreum; Fire which is  
Fed with no fuel but pure Joy and Bliss.   

158.  
O Kiss, which fetched the Mother's joyous Heart  
Into her lip, and sealed it on her Son;  
Which he receiving did his own impart  
In answer to her sweet Impression:  
O Kiss, the sacred Compliment between  
heavens highest King, & Earth's most lowly 〈◊〉.   

159.  
This done; her careful and most tender Hands  
Begin their duty to the noble Child:  
Whom having dressed in simple swaddling Bands  
She to her Breast applies, whose Bottles filled  
With Milk, but more with Joy and with Delight,  
To his first Breakfast did their God invite.   

160.  
Then stepping to the Manger, on that Bed  
(The only Bed except her own soft breast,)  
Where Hay and Straw were for the Cover spread,  
She laid Him down to take his hardy Rest:  
Forth with the Ox his Infant-Owner knew,  
The wondering Ass his Master's Crib did view.   

161.  
They both due distance kept, and, as they could,  
Adored Him who saves both Man and Beast,  
Him who alone did nourish and uphold  
Them from the Field with a perpetual Feast:  
Their Manger Straw and Hay they well can spare  
For his dear Service whose own Gifts they were.   

162.  
As there He lay, the holy Mother's Breast  
Grew big with noble Contemplation:  
Which as her Tongue brought forth, and sweetly dressed  
In vocal graces, all the Cave begun  
To imitate the Accents of her voice,  
And in soft Echoes duplicate the Noise.   

163.  
Almighty Infant, who till now, said She,  
Wert round arrayed with celestial Flames,  
Whose Mantle was eternal Majesty,  
Whose Crown was Glories most unbounded Beams,  
What condescent of mighty Love is this  
Which of that supreme Pomp doth thee undress!   

164.  
Could Clouts, and Rags have ever hoped to be  
Exalted to this strange Prerogative,  
That wretched They should unto naked Thee  
The courtesy of their poor shelter give!  
Surely henceforth all simple Weeds, which be  
Of kin to these, shall precious be to Me.   

165.  
Let Silks, and Gold go puff up Prince's Pride,  
Who for their Stains do need a beauteous Veil:  
This homespun Raiment will a Body hide  
When friezing Cold, or melting Heat assail.  
Thou art contented to be but thus fine:  
Then let who will, for Me, their God outshine.   

166.  
Thou art my God; this Vestures dusky Cloud  
No such eclipse can on thy Glory throw,  
But through its gloominess my Faith can crowd  
And see to whom I adoration owe.  
Lo I adore Thee, who art still Most high,  
Even in this Bottom of Humility.   

167.  
Fair was thy Throne when Thou didst mounted sit  
At the Right Hand of thine Imperial Father,  
When all the heavens were bowed to be thy great  
Chair of Majestic state; when Earth did gather  
Itself up close, and ready stand, to be  
A faithful Footstool to thy Sire and Thee.   

168.  
When the vast Volumes of Immensity  
Unto their utmost Bounds were stretched out  
To spread a correspondent Canopy  
Over thy glorious Head: When round about  
Brightness and Power, to complete thy Port,  
Filled the brave Circuit of thy mighty Court.   

169.  
But now the Scene is changed; now this poor Cell,  
This Manor-house of shame and scorn, must be  
Thy native Palace; now thy Throne doth swell  
No wider than this Cratch; now Poverty  
Has laid Hay for thy Pillow, faded Hay,  
Which speaks what Weakness thou assum'st to day.   

170.  
Now all those flaming Hierarchies, which did  
With Halalujhs fill thy royal Ear,  
Are left at home; now thou art furnished  
With these dull Waiters which stand silent here,  
This Ox and Ass, the only Servants Thou  
The World's great King didst ready find below,   

171.  
Go great Retinues, gaudy Palaces,  
Go Beds of down, of gold, of ivory,  
Go wait upon your dainty Prince's Ease  
And help to countenance poor Majesty.  
But yet lament your Pride's dishonour, since  
You are not owned now by Glories Prince.   

172.  
But Thou, o precious glorious Poverty,  
Ennobled by this Morn's bright Miracle,  
Shalt my Delight, my Pomp, my kingdom be:  
Thy Rags shall all Embroideries excel,  
Thy Cottages all Marble Towers outshine,  
Thy Hardship pleasant be, thy Shame divine.   

173.  
And yet, dread Infant, give my Wonder leave  
To gaze upon a greater Change than this:  
Thou didst from thy omnipotent Sire receive  
Thy equal Self, and sweetly rest in His  
Bright Bosom, where unbounded Pleasures swim,  
Joying from all Eternity with Him.   

174.  
But now thou art a Son of Time become,  
And of poor Me, a shorter thing than Time:  
That Bosom thou exchangedst for my Womb,  
Light's largest Heaven for a dark narrow Clime;  
Where of Mortality thou didst lay hold,  
And up in Dust thy gallant Godhead mould.   

175.  
All my amazed Thoughts are swallowed quite  
In this Abyss of thy Humility.  
O vast Abyss! as deep as ever Height  
Itself was high: I yield, I yield, to be  
In this miraculous Sea of Goodness drowned,  
Which only Thou, the God of it, canst sound.   

176.  
But o how far thine Handmaid is beneath  
That noble Accusation Gabriel laid  
Unto my charge! Thy Condescension hath  
Monopolised all Meekness, and arrayed  
The World in Pride's due shame, which though it seek  
Lower than dust to stoop, now is not meek.   

177.  
Whilst in this sweet ecstatick Passion  
Of Piety, Her blessed Soul did flame;  
A Flock of Shepherds, with an heavenly Tone  
Fresh on their echoing Tongues, in triumph came  
Unto the Cave, which to their eyes did yield  
A fairer Sight than their late glorious Field.   

178.  
In Joseph they beheld the best of Men;  
The flower of Females they in Mary saw;  
The sweetness of all Infants in Her Son,  
Who yet was far more beauteous than his show.  
This Sight determined their Vows; which they  
Before the Manger with due reverence pay.   

179.  
For with a prostrate Soul, and bended Knee  
Each one upon that simple Altar lays  
A tender Lamb: The Offering smiled to see  
The innocent argument of its own Praise,  
Beholding in the royal Babe how nigh  
It was of kin to his meek Majesty.   

180.  
O sweet, and Mighty Little One, said they,  
Deign thy Acceptance of these rural Things,  
The Cream of our poor Flocks: which whilst they stray  
About the Plains, may thy Protections Wings  
Shelter both Them, and Us; to whom no 〈◊〉  
Shall be a Deity, but Thou alone.   

181.  
whenever the hasty Wolf, the hideous Bear,  
Or raging Lion challengeth his Prey,  
O let the Shield of thy Defence be near  
Th' injustice of their Challenge to gainsay.  
Alas, our Crooks are feeble Things, and We  
As weak as they, repose our trust in thee.   

182.  
The venerable Mother joyed to hear  
Their humble Orison: And, What, said She,  
My honest Friends, has called you from your Care  
Thus to attend on this new Piety?  
To Night and Dangers what has made you leave  
Your other Lambs; and these why do you give?   

183.  
Fair Queen of Grace and Bliss, the Men replied,  
Bowing themselves before her reverend Feet,  
No Fears nor Dangers can our Flocks betid  
Whilst We are come our newborn King to greet.  
Heaven sent Us hither; and We need not fear  
But Heaven is able to supply our Care.   

184.  
Whilst in the open Field our Watch we keeped  
Befriended by the Moon and Stars, that no  
Peril might wake our tender Flocks, which slept  
Together with their tenderer younglings: Lo  
There rushed from Heaven a sudden mighty Light  
Which out of all the wide field chased Night.   

185.  
The Frighted Moon and Stars flew all away,  
With unexpected Gold the Sky grew bright:  
We never yet beheld the entering Day  
Break from the East with such commanding Light.  
'Twas Glories Morning this, and in our eyes,  
No Sun but Majesty did seem to rise.   

186.  
With that, and with Amazement blinded, we  
Fell down, supposing Heaven had done so to.  
And that the Beauties of Sublimity  
Came post on some grand Business below.  
And here we see what fetched them down; thy Son  
May well woo all Heaven after Him to run.   

187.  
But as poor Bats, and wretched Birds of Night  
Surprised by a sudden-rushing Flame,  
Are struck with horror at the glorious Sight,  
Which seals their eyes, and open sets their shame:  
So we by this strange Apparition were  
Besieged no less with lustre, than with Fear.   

188.  
When, as we trembling lay, a radiant Friend  
Who gently hovered in the neighbour Aire,  
Did fan fresh comfort with his Wings, and lend  
Our Hearts new Courage: 'Tis no Night of Fear  
Said he, Look up, and view this Scene of Joy  
Set forth in heavens most festival Array.   

189.  
We opened our Eyes, and round about beheld  
How Smiles and Comforts had bedecked the Place,  
Which seemed no more a common Country Field,  
But Paradise's own delicious face:  
And such we should have thought it still, had we  
Not hither come, and seen thy Son, and Thee.   

190.  
But yet a Beauty next to yours we saw,  
Almost as bright, as sweet, as mild, as grave,  
That Angel which did upon Us bestow  
That courteous Item; His Attire was brave,  
His Looks, the Glass of Heaven, most sweet his Tongue;  
From which these blessed Words of Comfort rung:   

191.  
BEHOLD, I bring you News of greater Joy  
Than kindest Heaven till now did ever send;  
Joy which through every Heart shall melt its way,  
And with the Sun its equal Course extend:  
Joy which shall know no Limits, but through all  
The World display its gallant Festival.   

192.  
For unto you, and your grand Bliss, this Morn  
In royal David's City, Christ the Lord  
Of Him, and You, and this whole World is born:  
A mighty King, who cometh to afford  
The often-promised long-desired Salvation  
Unto his fainting, and decayed Creation.   

193.  
Stagger not at the News; but let this Sign  
Assure your Faith, and banish needless Doubts:  
You shall at Bethlehem find this divine  
Infant wrapped up in simple swaddling Clouts,  
And in a plain and correspondent Bed,  
The Ass' Manger, resting his sweet Head.   

194.  
As we for Joy at these strange Tidings started,  
Behold, a sudden Globe of flaming Light  
Into a stranger Apparition parted,  
And to new Wonders summoned our sight:  
For at a diamond Table fair and wide  
A numerous Choir of Angels we descried.   

195.  
Soul-charming Melody amongst them sat,  
At her left hand Applause, Joy at her right,  
Behind her Glory, Praise before her, at  
Her foot luxuriant, but pure Delight.  
The Spectacle alone was ravishing;  
But o what Raptures when they began to sing!   

196.  
Glory to God in all Sublimity,  
Peace upon Earth, and unto Men Good Will:  
This was their Ditty; but their lofty Key  
Did not our mortal reach alone excel,  
But surely posed the Spheres, though these, they say,  
In sovereign Music spend both night and day.   

197.  
O how our pretty Lambs did leap and dance!  
What Troops of merry Wolves came tripping in!  
How were the Bears seized with a gentle Trance!  
How did this Harmony the Lions win!  
All Salvagnesse was quickly charmed asleep,  
And every Beast was now a gentle Sheep.   

198.  
The Stones looked up and seemed to wish for feet,  
The Trees were angry that they stuck so fast;  
All Things desired the Melody to meet,  
And, as they could, unto the Dance made haste.  
With that, our silly oaten Pipes we broke,  
And then our Parts with cheerly Nature took.   

199.  
And though our Feet never more nimbly flew  
Than in their Answer to this Music's Pleasure,  
Doing their best endeavour to trip true  
To every Turn, and Point, and Air, and Measure;  
Yet in our joyous Breasts we felt our Hearts  
With more Activity, dancing their Parts.   

200.  
The Anthem finished: That glorious Fire  
About the Company its Arms did spread,  
And homeward convoyed the illustrious Quire.  
We saw how wide a Gate Heaven opened  
To let them in: We saw it shut and yield  
Back to the Stars their free etherial Field.   

201.  
Thence came We hither, and the Promise found  
As true and noble as our Expectation:  
Which from this Cave shall by our Tongues rebound  
To every Ear we meet: By this Narration  
Our Hearts shall eased be, least by the Wonder  
Of this Heav'n-crowned Morn they split in sunder.   

202.  
But when the Years fresh youth returns, to deck  
The Bed of April in its vernal Hue;  
The choicest sweets and Beauties We will pick,  
And wreathe a Chaplet for the fairer Brow  
Of this our blooming Lord. Till when We place  
Our Hopes of safety in his only Grace.   

203.  
Here, with three Adorations to the Son,  
They of the Mother and good Joseph, take  
Their humble leave. But she, when they were gone,  
Deep in her Bosom prints what they had spoke,  
The News, the Choir, the Song, the glorious Light,  
Which duly she reads over Morn and Night.   

204.  
And well she dived into the Reason why  
That glorious Host kept distance from the Cave,  
And to these Creatures of Humility,  
These simple honest Swains, the honour gave  
Of being his first Visiters, who came  
To be at once a Shepherd, and a Lamb.   

205.  
But when the Sun seven times himself had shown  
To all the World, and bid it idolise  
His Beams no more, but fall down to its own  
Almighty Rising Phoebus, at whose eyes  
His Flames were kindled: Janus opened the door,  
And in her Arms Aurora New-year bore.   

206.  
And this was Circumcisions sacred Day;  
Nor would the royal Infant spared be,  
〈◊〉 under this sad bloody Yoke did lay  
His tender Neck; that exemplary he  
Who was through all Obedience to run,  
His Race of Patience might betimes begin.   

207.  
There sat He on his yerning Mother's Knee,  
Who with all tenderness the Work dispatched:  
O how much 〈◊〉 in her Heart did she  
Receive the Knife, when it the Infant touched!  
But yet she knew her Wound would greater prove,  
If she had broke the Law by too much love.   

208.  
Down fell the precious purple Dew, and gave  
The World sure earnest of what was behind.  
For 'twas resolved it at length should have  
The utmost Drop his deepest Vein could find:  
Mean while, these few will serve to write the Bonds  
By which he for the rest engaged stands.   

209.  
O liquid Jewels! happily have You  
Be-sprinkled all the Forehead of the Year;  
The Year, which now on his be-decked brow  
More beauties than the face of Heaven doth wear;  
The Year, which sealed is by You to be  
From Sins and Mischiefs Impositions free.   

210.  
Thus when the Paschal Lambs less worthy Blood  
Bedewed th' Egyptian Doors of Israel's Sons,  
Peace and Security for Porters stood,  
And staved Destruction from their Mansions.  
Had but this Blush on other Gates been seen,  
Both Grace and Safety had dwelled within.   

211.  
Now Januaries Calends washed be  
By these dear Drops, from all that guilty Gore  
Which Heath'nish most unholy Sanctity  
In lavish Floods upon their face did pour;  
Fair shines the Day, thus reskewed and released  
From Pagan stains, to Piety's pure Feast.   

212.  
And now is printed on the Child that Name  
Which sweetly sat upon bright Gabriels Tongue  
When to his Mother with the News he came,  
That Name which sweetens every Cherubs song;  
That Name of Bowels, of omnipotent Love,  
Of all the joys that make Heaven be above.   

213.  
JESUS o what vast Treasures couched lie  
In the rich bosom of this little Word!  
A Word which spreads its mighty Majesty  
Through Heaven, & Earth, and Hell; all which are stored  
With reverend Awe when e'er it sounds, and on  
Their bended Knees adore the Virgin's Son.   

214.  
JESUS! o Name of glorious Dainties, how  
Unwilling are my Lips with thee to part!  
Yet shall thy Music never cease to flow  
In precious Echoes all about my Heart.  
JESUS! o sweeter Name of Life! o Name  
Which makest famous even eternal Fame.   

215.  
These matchless Things, my Psyche happened here  
This simple Place with noble worth to crown.  
But yet these were not all. Has not thine ear  
Been filled with Balaams' infamous Renown,  
Whose innocent Ass was fain to use her Tongue,  
And check her sillier Master for her wrong.   

216.  
This Son of Avarice, and Heir of Hell  
By frighted Balak hired to enchant  
And heap his Curses upon Israel,  
Was by thy Spouse enforced to recant  
His dire intentions, and change his Tone  
Against his Nature, as his Ass had done.   

217.  
Thy Spouse did thrust reverend Prophecy  
Into his Mouth, of jacob's rising Star:  
Which he himself left as a Legacy  
To all his Heirs, and charged them to have care  
That no forgetfulness did blind their Eyes  
From watching when that promised Light should rise.   

218.  
Amongst their mystic Notes these Words they laid  
From Age to Age, and often read them o'er  
With dread Devotion, being still afraid  
The Star might chance to deep from Heaven before  
They were a ware, and spy their souls asleep,  
Whom Balaam had forewarned their Watch to keep.   

219.  
No Comet on the World did ever look  
But straight into their studies them it sent,  
Where, after Counsel had with many a Book,  
Through all its flaming Lineaments they went,  
Examining the length of every Hair  
By its own light, which Head or Beard did wear.   

220.  
But when Eternity's sweet Day began  
To rise not from the East, but this poor Cave;  
A gallant Star into Arabia ran  
And notice of the glorious business gave  
To Every Eye which was instructed how  
To read the Characters of heavens bright Brow.   

221.  
Three Venerable Men dwelled there, all Grey  
As well within as they appeared without,  
Kings of the Villages and Fields, where they  
Reigned by their secret Wisdoms high Repute:  
No Star but they knew well, for from the East  
They had been long acquainted to the West.   

222.  
They, looking out that Night, their friends to view,  
Espied Stranger dressed in bright Attire,  
To which their wondering Contemplations flew,  
And busy were about the radiant Fire.  
The more they looked, the fairer room they found  
Where on more Admitation to ground.   

223.  
Eyes which have gazed since the Star was set  
Have read in it a flaming Child; upon  
Whose golden shoulders a large Cross was put:  
Such power has superstitious Fiction  
To credit whatsoever it does espy  
In the blind Book of its own Fantasy.   

224.  
A Book which cunning Hell improves so high,  
That it has often cost poor Truth full dear;  
For Lies embroidered upon Verity,  
Makes even the Groundwork fictious appear:  
And when course Tares amongst pure Wheat creep up  
They spoil the credit of the hopeful Crop.   

225.  
These sage Observers no such thing descried,  
But only a miraculous Beauty read  
In this unusual Star, whose Beams outvied  
All glories that bright Venu's face could plead;  
And when the Day drew on, displayed far  
More cause why this should be the Morning 〈◊〉   

226.  
For when from roseal Aurora's door  
Fair Titan shaked his locks, and marched out;  
Nor any of the other Spangles, nor  
Brisk Venus could approve herself so stout  
To stay in Heaven and view his Sovereign Light,  
But slipped aside, and waited for the Night.   

227.  
But this brave Star stayed still, and to his face  
Told Phoebus that he had as much to do  
In Heaven as He; that his fire kindled was  
To light a fairer Day than He could show;  
A Day which sprung not from his vulgar East,  
But chose its Morning where it pleased best.   

228.  
This Resolution of the Star did much  
Amaze the Magis, who in all their old  
Records of Wonders, could not meet with such  
A venturous Apparition enrolled  
And why, said they at length, may this not be  
The Star which Ballam's quick-eyd Soul did see.   

229.  
Then throwing all their useless Books aside,  
They to that God who Balaam did inspire  
Address their Prayers to be satisfis, d  
About the meaning of that wondrous Fire.  
God kindly answered them, and taught them why  
He checked the Sun by that fair Prodigy.   

230.  
heavens mighty Love so, universal is,  
That through the School of Magic Darkness it  
Disdaineth not with gracious Beams to press;  
Where in their black Profession it doth meet  
The Sons of Night with radiant Mercy, and  
Them to the Day of Life and Bliss doth send.   

231.  
Their Sumptures now they in all hast provide,  
Though yet uncertain which way they should tend:  
When lo, the Star deigned to become their Guide,  
And with a moderate pace its course did bend  
To Palestine, that it might not outrun  
Their Dromedaries mortal Motion.   

232.  
Sweet was their journey: O dear Star, said they  
Who would not follow thy Direction!  
What Error now can cheat Us of our Way  
Who under heavens illustrious Conduct run!  
That fiery Pillar, which led Israel, We  
Now envy not, who convoyed are by Thee.   

233.  
Thus travelling till Salems' towrie Head  
Had met their Eyes, they thither turned their way,  
Presuming there to find the Princely Bed  
Whereon the Newborn King of Salem lay.  
But now the Star grew wroth, and hid its face,  
To chide their doting Error on that Place.   

234.  
That chode in earnest: but mistaken They  
Conceived its Office here expired was,  
Having unto the period of their way  
Now brought them safe. Into the Town they pass,  
Swollen big with mighty Hopes forth with to see  
Thy glorious Spouses Infant-Majesty.   

235.  
With their great Question every street they fill  
Enquiring where the native Palace stood  
Of Him who was born King of Israel:  
By whose bright Star We from the East have rode  
Said they, and come to represent our meet  
And bounden Homage at his royal Feet.   

236.  
Much was the Boldness of the Men admired,  
Who now within the reach of Herod's spite,  
So stoutly for another King enquired  
Plainly confuting his usurped Right.  
But this the Valour was of Piety  
Which doth securely all the World defy.   

237.  
With fears and jealousies this News did pass  
Through thousand ears, till it to Herod's came;  
The guilty Tyrant stung and startled was  
At the strange broaching of that dangerous Fame:  
His Heart throbbs high his Sceptre seems to quake,  
His Throne to totter, and his Crown to crack.   

238.  
Yet, to elude those threatening Omens, He  
Mustered up all his cruel Wit to lay  
Some holie-looking Plot, whose subtlety  
Both his young Rival, and his Fears might slay.  
His rage He cloaked, and in a Synod sought  
How to resolve the noble Strangers Doubt.   

239.  
The Priests and Scribes their reverend Records bring  
And by inspired Mica's Prophecy  
About the mighty Point inform the King;  
Who in his Privy Chamber did descry  
The business to the Pilgrims, and inquire  
Each circumstance about their Leading Fire   

240.  
Which having heard at large: Go then, said He,  
And may Success your brave Devotion crown,  
Yet grant your friend this easy Courtesy,  
That you will not engross Him as your own,  
When you have found the Infant, let me know,  
That I may Him adore as well as you.   

241.  
No tedious Entertainment now shall stay  
Your pious zeal, although mine Honour be  
Engaged, thus a while, to stop your Way:  
But at your more convenient Leisure We  
Shall take such royal course, that you shall find  
Our Court cannot to Strangers be unkind.   

242.  
Here taking leave, in Bethleem Road they went:  
When lo the Star which scorned its beams to show  
To cursed Herod, did again present  
Their reconciled Convoy to their View:  
Kindling fresh hopes and comfort in their Breast  
To see themselves from their sad Night released.   

243.  
For Day to them did wear no other face  
But of black Night, till they espied this Light:  
And Phoebus posting to another place,  
Did with his useless beams but mock their sight:  
Only this faithful Star directed them  
Their Way, till to its period they came.   

244.  
But than it stayed (for all its Work was done,)  
And pointing with a perpendicular Ray  
Upon the Cave, bid them behold that Sun  
Of which itself was but the shadow: They  
Down from their Beasts with nimble gladness light  
To bless their eyes with their desired sight.   

245.  
Their several Grooms the foaming Coursers took,  
The Pages their Oblations ready made;  
But wondering at the Stables simple Look  
Which promised nothing less, than what it had  
To show, the Princes turned their eyes to know  
Of their bright Guide, if they were right, or no.   

246.  
But when they saw constant Assurance shed  
Itself down from the peremptory Star;  
They marched in cheerly and no sooner had  
Observed the humble Majesty which there  
Did keep its Court, but down they fell, and in  
Prostration their first Homage did begin.   

247.  
The Mother's Eyes called theirs to admiration,  
As did the Infants unto Ecstacie:  
For in the foft and balmy Habitation  
Of Her dear bosom He enshrined did lie,  
As in the precious and glistering breast  
Of Mother-Perl the Jewel makes its Nest.   

248.  
They, having kissed the ground, cried out, Behold  
Great King of all the World, unworthy We  
Whom by thy Star Thou sendest for, are bold  
To creep thus near thy gracious Majesty.  
The Name of King, has flattered Us a while,  
But We resign to thee that noble Style.   

249.  
The foolish World surnames Us Wise; but we  
No more will that ambitious Title own,  
Which now we understand most due to Thee,  
And at thy Footstool here we throw it down:  
Esteeming this our greater Wisdom, that  
We by thy Grace this Lowliness have got.   

250.  
Thou art that King, the Hopes of whose bright Birth  
Have many fainting Generations cheered;  
Thou art that jacob's Star, whose Breaking forth  
The shades of Prophecies and Types hath cleared,  
Displaying to this grovelling World, which lay  
Till now in Darkness, a Meridian Day.   

251.  
Thou art that Wisdom which contriy'dst at first  
The Fabric of this universal Ball,  
By thy Direction it from Nothing burst;  
And in thy Counsels boundless Circle all  
Motions of Heaven and Earth performed be;  
Both Change and Chance are Certainties to Thee.   

252.  
Here each one having his Oblation  
In his own Crown, which in his Hand he bore;  
The first with triple Adoration'gan  
Io tender up his Gift: And, Of this store  
Which thou, dear Lord, said He to Me didst give,  
Vouchsafe this Tithe and Earnest to receive.   

253.  
It is the purest Gold my Care could get,  
But yet begs to be gilded by thine Eye:  
Unless some Richness Thou wilt glance on it.  
Alas, it has not worth enough to buy  
The credit which belongs unto its Name:  
O gently shine, and deck it with thy Flame.   

254.  
Then came the Second with like reverence, and  
His Offering in his royal Censer brought:  
Accept, sweet Babe from this my Worthless Hand  
Said He, this Incense, which hath now found our.  
The next way to its God, and need not rise  
In labouring Clouds to reach the lofty Skies.   

255.  
It is the noblest I could pick and cull  
From the best spicey Beds of Arabia,  
Which in their first-fruits hither come to tell  
That all that's left at home is due to Thee,  
And craves thy leave to kiss thy gracious Feet  
That from that Touch her Odours may grow sweet,   

256.  
These two fair Copies were transcribed by  
The third, whose Present was delicious Myrih:  
And this to wait on thy Humanity  
O Thou Incarnate God do I prefer,  
Said He; that Nature which till now, was poor  
Ashes and Dust, in thee We must adore.   

257.  
The Babe looked up, and with a gentle Eye  
Approved and praised their pious Sacrifice:  
When lo, the Mother, with sweet Courtesy  
Held forth his Hand unto the Kings to kiss.  
O no, said they, Our foul lips are too mean,  
May they but kiss his Clout's Him, and be clean.   

258.  
They kissed it, and arose: But on the floor  
Ambitiously they left their Crowns, that they  
Might gain the Honour to be Foot-stools for  
The royal Infant; whose illustrious Way  
May well be paved with Diadems, since He  
Reigns King of Kings, and Lord of Majesty.   

259.  
And now as much of Night as durst draw near  
This Court of noblest Light, was thither come:  
This made the Pilgrims a meek suit prefer,  
Begging before the door their Lodging Room:  
Forbid it loyal Reverence, they cried,  
That the same Roof Us and our Lord should hide.   

260.  
Thus, having pitched their Tents without, and said  
Their Prayers to their God they left within;  
Themselves upon their beds to Rest they laid,  
Which did no sooner on their Brows begin  
To steal, but strait a Dream came close behind,  
Which opened a Vision to their waking Mind.   

261.  
God in a mystic Voice, which well they knew  
By its dear Relish in their Hearts, came down,  
Timely discovering to their wondering View  
What desperate Dangers in their Way were strown,  
If they returned by Jerusalem  
Set thick with bloody Herod's Traps for them.   

262.  
This Warning they when Morning had let in  
The Flaming Giant to his daily Race,  
With hasty Joy obeyed: Yet having ' gun  
Their Journey, with as vehement a pace  
Their Hearts recoiled, so did their Eyes, and in  
The glorious Stable would again have been.   

263.  
Thus struggling homeward by a private Way,  
Unreached by Harm they to Arabia came:  
Where through th' astonished Country they display  
The noble Infants most miraculous Fame:  
Returning richer Gold, and purer store  
Of Sweets, than they from thence to Bethlehem bore.   

264.  
The precious Name of JESUS, would alone  
Discharge that Debt, and purchase all the rest,  
The Gold, Myrrh, Incense, which that Region  
In all its richest Hills and Vales possessed:  
That Name would make each Part of Arabia  
Derive its surname from Felicity.   

265.  
These Wonders have ennobled this rude Place,  
And made it, Psyche, worth thy journey hither.  
But Time's at hand, which will erect Disgrace  
On this Foundation of Glory, whether  
One King shall send as studied Scorn, as Three  
Did bring exact and costly Piety.   

266.  
This Temple of Virginity will He  
Deform into black Lusts unworthy Sty;  
Where in that reverend Mangers place must be  
Reared the cursed Altar of Impurity,  
And Venus and Adoni's Titles swell  
JESUS and mary's mention to expel.   

267.  
O then, said Psyche, (for the Angel here  
Closed his lips,) may I that time prevent,  
And consecrate this Night unto this dear  
Birth-place of Purity! What though I want  
Gold, Incense, Myrrh? I have an Heart, which fain  
Upon this Mangers Altar would be slain.   

268.  
It would be slain, that it a Life might find  
Which will not give its noble Name the Lie:  
For whilst I linger grovelling in this blind  
Valley of Sin, by Living it doth Die.  
A Mortal Life, is but an handsome Fiction,  
Nothing well dressed, a flattering Contradiction.   

269.  
Here kneeling down, with liberal Tears she dewed  
The holy Relic, having blown away  
The Dust with Sighs; and as the place she viewed.  
With sharp-eyed Faith Him she discerned, who lay  
Once in that Cradle; And wished she were worth  
Ten thousand Hearts, that she might pour all forth,   

270.  
O what Contentions of Loves and Joys  
And pious Languishments thronged in her breast!  
How many violent sorts of amorous ways  
Did her strong Soul try to be dispossessed  
Of this dull clogging Body, that it might  
Indeed lodge with her Spouse himself that Night!   

271.  
But tired by this mysterious Agony  
Her Spirits yielded to the Powers of sleep;  
Oft had they quickened up themselves, and by  
Stout Zeal chased back the Shadows that did creep  
About her Eyes; which yet at length were-closed,  
Whilst on the Manger She her Head reposed.   

272.  
Her Eyes were closed; but wide open was her Heart,  
And by clear Recollection did run through  
The noble Story, reading every Part  
And Circumstance, she knew not where nor how:  
Whilst Phylax for her Canopy, did spread  
His tender guardian Wing upon her Head.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO VIII. The Pilgrimage.  
ARGUMENT.  

Loves' Presentation solemnised: He  
Through the sad Desert, into Egypt flies;  
Where by the dint of true Divinity  
He dasheth down the forged Deities:  
And thence, when 〈◊〉 had the Infants slain,  
And Justice Him; returneth home again.   

1.  
O gentle Nature, how discrect art Thou  
In marshalling those sober Courtesies  
Which to thy labouring World thou dost allow!  
Thou lettest Us feel the Want, to learn the price;  
Thou checkerest every Thing with such wise Art,  
That Ease proves constant Successor to Smart.   

2.  
After Night's soot the face of Heaven hath smeared,  
Days lovely Beauty all the Welkin gilds:  
When Winter's churlish Months have domineered,  
The lively Spring with youth cheers up the fields:  
When Clouds have weeped their Bottles out, 'tis fair;  
When Winds are out of breath, Thou still'st the Air.   

3.  
But yet the dearest of thy Blessings, is  
Soft Sleep, which thou dost to no Pains deny.  
When Phoebus through all Heaven has sped his  
Long smoking Course, Thou giv'st Him leave to lie  
Upon the Pillows of the watery Main,  
Until Aurora wakens Him again.   

4.  
When Trees have all the Summer laboured hard  
Their blossoms, leaves, and fruit in bringing forth.  
The night of Winter thou dost them afford  
And bid'st their Vigour go to Bed in Earth:  
Down to the Root straight runs the weary Sap,  
And sleeps close and secure in 〈◊〉 lap.   

5.  
When Rivers many tedious Months have run  
Through cragged Rocks, and crooked peevish ways,  
Thou mak'st stern Boreas pitiful, who on  
Their necks a seasonable Bridle lays,  
This binds them up in Glass, and makes them rest  
Till they are waked by Summer's Southern Blast,   

6.  
When Man has travelled with his Hand, or Mind,  
(For this both toils and sweats, as well as that:)  
Thou in a tender misty Veil dost bind  
His heavy Head, until his Eyes have shut  
Out Grief and Pain, and Weariness; and He  
Reposed in Sleeps all-downie Bosom be.   

7.  
Yet other Creatures little find in Sleep,  
But the dull pleasure of a gloomy Rest,  
Which they themselves perceive not when they reap:  
Man only by this privilege is blest,  
That Sleep itself can be awake to Him,  
And entertain Him with some courteous Dream.   

8.  
He, when his Touch, his Tongue, his Eye, his Ear,  
His Nose, in Sleeps thick Night are muffled up,  
Can feel, can taste, can smell, can see, can hear,  
And in his quick Dispatches find less Stop  
Than when He wakes: for now his Soul alone  
Through all his mystic Business doth run.   

9  
O sweet Prerogative 〈◊〉 by which we may  
Upon our Pillows travel round about  
The Universe, and turn our Work to Play;  
Whilst every Journey is no more but Thought:  
And every Thought doth with as quick a pace  
Run through its longest, as its shortest Race.   

10.  
Nor is the Body more befriended, than  
The Soul, in its Digestion, by Sleep:  
This is the undisturbed Season, when  
The Mind has leisure to concoct that Heap  
Of crude unsettled Notions. which fill  
The weak Brains overcharged Ventricle.   

11.  
In this soft Calm, when all alone the Heart  
Walks through the shades of its own silent 〈◊〉,  
Heaven takes delight to meet it, and impart  
Those blessed Visions, which pose the best  
Of waking Eyes, whose Beams turn all to Night  
Before the Looks of a spiritual Sight.   

12.  
By this time Psyche having failed through  
The Infant-Story, whilst her Dream did steer  
Her Souls mysterious Bark: she felt her Brow  
Eased of its cloudy Weight, and growing clear.  
Straight Phylax spied her looking up, and cir, d,  
'Tis well thou hast thy Spouses Lodging tried.   

13.  
How dost thou think this Manger could agree  
With the most tender Infants dainty Head!  
But by this Copy He commends to thee  
The scorn of Wantonesse's plumy Bed.  
Thou see'st sweet Sleep is possible upon  
A cold and churlish Couch of Bord or stone.   

14.  
Learn then, that 'tis not any thing without  
Which can with genuine softness cloth thy Rest.  
Down, proves but precious Thorns, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 doth slout  
His hopes of quiet Sleep, whose treach 〈◊〉 Breast  
Though with external Unguents sleek, within  
Is harsh and rugged, being lined with Sin.   

15.  
If Vice, and Vengeance had not Us prevented,  
We to the Temple now our way should ache:  
But they long since were there; and the lamented  
Ruins too late their sad confession make.  
Fire, and the Roman Rage on it have prayed,  
And all its Glory in the Ashes laid.   

16.  
Whilst yet it stood; the Virgin-Mother, when  
The Law did cite her to Purification,  
hastes thither with her offerings, and her Son,  
To pay obedience to that needless Fashion:  
Needless to Her, who of no Humane Seed  
Had ever been the spotted Soil and Bed.   

17.  
Can Ceremonies think themselves so clean,  
As to presume to wash the Morning's face  
When she hath brought forth Glory's Sun, and been  
New gilded by that Birth, with fairer grace!  
How shall the Virgin Crystal purer grow!  
What Legal Rites can purge and whiten Snow 〈◊〉   

18.  
Yet is the gallant Morn content to go,  
So is the spotless Crystal, and the Snow,  
And own Pollution, rather than not do  
Their ready homage to the reverend Law,  
Which by a stronger backed was; for She  
Went, summoned by her own Humility.   

19  
And there arrived; She unto the Shade  
The Substance brought; and Truth unto the Type:  
Broad Day She of a glimmering Twilight made,  
Long breeding and crude Hopes, She turned to ripe  
Fruition, whilst She, with her Offerings,  
A fairer Temple to the Temple brings.   

20.  
A Temple where not one, but every Gate  
Was Beautiful: a Temple where each Room  
Most Holy was: a Temple, where, though State  
Shined not without, heavens Prince did make his Home:  
A Temple which had its foundation  
Above; a Temple which was God and Man.   

21.  
When He drew near, the Walls and Pavement smiled,  
The Roof would fain have bowed to kiss His feet;  
The pious Incense smelled the sweeter Child  
And changed its usual Path, with Him to meet:  
It soared not up, but to the Door did stretch,  
Finding that nearer way its Heaven to reach.   

22.  
The Cberubs which dwelled close behind the Veil,  
Had much ado to keep themselves within,  
Knowing that from their secret Oracle  
The outward Temple did the Glory win,  
In which was now a Higher Priest than He  
For whom alone that yearly once was free.   

23.  
O how the second Temple's Lustre now  
Dazells the first! That fabric reared by  
David's wise Son, did long afore hand bow  
Unto this younger Temples Majesty,  
And kiss the Dust, resigning up its place  
To this, which Jesu's Presence was to grace.   

24.  
And now the Mother on her bended knee  
Before the Priest, presents to Heaven her Son.  
Was ever heard of such a Priest as She  
Who offers God for an Oblation!  
To Her th' Eternal Father sent Him down,  
And noble She returns Him back his own.   

25.  
When reverend Johazar received the Child  
A secret Joy through all his bosom ran;  
Much did he marvel how his Heart came filled  
With more than usual Devotion;  
Nor did He know that in his Arms much more  
Than Paradise, or than all Heaven He bore.   

26.  
But then (being so admonished by the Law)  
She pays five shekels, and receives her Son.  
Were all the World her own, She would bestow  
It, and herself, for his Redemption:  
But this poor Price served Her to ransom Him,  
Who came Her and the whole world to redeem.   

27.  
Then two white Pigeons (her own Emblems) She  
Presents, as Duties of Purification:  
The gentle Birds a mourning fell, to see  
That they must leave their dearer Habitation:  
Less sweet they thought the Altar, and would fain  
Be nestling in her Breast, or Lap again.   

28.  
But holy Simeon, whose stout Expectation  
Grounded upon heavens Credit, did sustain  
His aged Life, by potent Inspiration  
Forgot his leaden pace, and flew amain  
Into the Temple; for the nimble Blast  
Of Gods own Spirit lent him youthful haste.   

29.  
O how his greedy Soul did Work and Beat,  
And think the time an Age, till He was come  
Unto his Blisses Shore; where in the heat  
Of hasty Zeal, He snatched his Saviour home  
Into his longing Arms, and Heart, which now  
Broke from his Lips, and in these Words did flow.   

30.  
O Life, thou now art out of debt to my  
Long-stretched Attendance, and canst nothing show  
Of further Worth, wherewith to charm mine Eye,  
And make it still be hankering here below:  
No; I have seen, what I did live to see,  
The world's Hopes, and mine own; and heer-they be.   

31.  
Dear Lord of Heaven, here is that hoped-for He  
In whom lie treasured up Power and Salvation,  
Which now thy love exposed hath to be  
The blessed Theme of humane Contemplation,  
All Eyes may see this Face, as well as I,  
And clearly read their own Felicity,   

32.  
This noble Face; by whose Soule-piercing Rays  
The 〈◊〉, until now damned up in Night  
Admonished are to understand their Ways,  
And tread the open Paths of High-noon Light:  
This Face, whose more than golden Beauties be  
The glorious Crown of Jacob's Progeny.   

33.  
O Death, if thou dar'st draw near Life's great King  
Come take possession of my willing Heart,  
That I a swarthy and unworthy Thing  
From his too radiant presence may depart:  
I am too blest to live, and cannot bear  
The burden of this heavenly Lustre here.   

34.  
The good Old man thus eased his pious Zeal;  
And having sacrificed a Kiss upon  
The Infants royal Foot, began to feel  
His Prayers were heard, and that Death hasted on:  
Which He to meet, went home, and order gave  
With sweet and hasty Joy about his Grave.   

35.  
As Echo unto his Devotion, Lo  
The venerable Matron Anna came;  
She whose Prophetic Heart did bid her go  
To wait upon, and to adore the same  
Young Son of Wonders; that her Sex in Her,  
As His in Him, its duty might prefer.   

36.  
And here she met a full reward of all  
Those nights and days which in that place she spent:  
Her Fast now turn d to a Festival;  
Her longing Prayers which unto Heaven she sent  
To pull it down, now found it ready here,  
For in the Infant's Face it did appear.   

37.  
So clearly it appeared, that She could not  
Restrain her Tongue from being Trumpet to  
The Dawne of its convincing Brightness, but  
Through Salems' longest thickest Streets did go,  
Spreading her Proclamation to each Ear  
And Heart, which longed that heavenly News to hear.   

38.  
This called so many wondering Eyes to gaze  
Upon the Mother and her fairer Son;  
That from the glory of that populous Place  
To poor and private Nazaret she did run,  
Where, in her humble House she hoped to hide  
Her humbler Self from Honours growing Tide,   

39  
But Honour loves to scorn the Zealous Chase  
Of most ambitious eager Hunters; and  
Pursues those modest Souls from place to place  
By whom she sees her orient Presence shunned.  
Nor is she e'er outrun, or fails to raise  
Their Names with Trophies, and their Brows with Bays.   

40.  
But when in Salem the great News grew hot  
And flamed to Herod's Court: the Tyrant's Breast  
Swelled with new Rage; for much he feared that  
This Fire might reach his Throne; which made Him cast  
Deep desperate Counsels in his jealous Mind  
How for this Danger he some Curb might find.   

41.  
Mean while, as holy Joseph sleeping lay  
To gain new strength to work; his Winged Friend  
Roused up his Soul by a Celestial Ray,  
Bidding him his swift flight to Egypt rend,  
For Herod now contrives to slay, said He,  
The Child, and in Him, both thy Wife and Thee.   

42.  
O that my Wings might be his Chariot! But  
This noble Favour Heaven reserves for thee.  
Fly then: But see thyself thou trouble not  
With thy Return; for when the Storm shall be  
Clearly blown over, I will thither come,  
And from thy Gods own Mouth recall thee Home,   

43.  
This said; his nearest way the Angel took  
To Heaven and fluttered loud as He went up:  
The noise made Joseph start; who strait awoke  
And looked about; But He had gained the Top  
Of heaven, and in the Spheres enclosed was  
E'er joseph's mortal Eye could thither pass.   

44.  
Yet by the blessed influence He behind  
Had left, the Saint did Him entirely Know:  
The privileged Eyes of his religious Mind  
Had long acquainted been with him, and now  
He doubts not but this was his Guardian, who  
Had taught him oft what He instraits should do,   

45.  
Whilst by her sable Curtains Night as yet  
Muffled up Heaven, and kept the World in Bed,  
Himself He dressed, and made all things fit  
For his long journey: On the Ass He spread  
His Coverlet, and his own Pillow (sweet  
And cleanly Hay) he gave him for his meat.   

46.  
The Beast thus baited: He his Axe, his Saws,  
His Planes, Rules, Mallets, and his other Store  
Of busy honest Implements bestows  
In his large Bag, the Treasury of his poor  
Industricus subsistence; which he ties  
Fast to his Staff, and on his Shoulders tries.   

47.  
Two Bottles then (all that the poor Man had)  
Fresh filled at a neighbour Fountain, He  
Puts on his Girdle, with three Loaves of bread  
In a plain Pouch. Then stepping reverently  
Unto the Bed where the great Mother lay,  
Arise, said He, for Heaven calls Us away.   

48.  
When She the business heard, and saw how He  
Had all things ready for their journey made:  
Far be it, she replied, that I should be  
At any hour to follow Heaven afraid:  
Or that I for the Morning's light should tarry  
Who in my Arms my fairer Day do carry.   

49.  
I can be no where lost, dear Babe, whilst I  
Travel with Thee, who never canst depart  
From thine own Home: Wherever Thou dost fly,  
Thine own Land still will meet Thee, for thou art  
By thine eternal Right, the Prince as well  
Of Ham and Egypt, as of Israel.   

50.  
Arabia's Devotion has long since  
Supplid thee with this sacred Treasure, to  
Defray thy Charges: Thine own Providence  
Thy Purveyor was; Thou knewest we were to go,  
And hast laid in Provision, e'er we  
Could dream of any such Necessity,   

51.  
And yet Necessity is no such thing  
To mighty Thee, whose all-commanding Hand  
Doth hold the Reins of Fate: the bloody King  
Musters his Wrath in vain, wouldst thou withstand  
His Spite in open Field: But thou knowst why  
It will be now more glorious to File.   

52.  
This Journey's but a step to Thee, who from  
The Pinnacle of all Sublimity  
Thy Father's bosom didst a Pilgrim come  
And take up thy abode in worthless Me:  
Me, who from Heaven much further distant am,  
Than Memphis is from fair Jerusalem.   

53.  
With that, She wrapped the Infant close, and took  
The Ass' back; whose bridle Joseph held,  
And long before the drowsy Town awoke,  
Led him far out into the quiet Field:  
Darkness and Silence clinged round about,  
Barning Discovery and Suspicion out.   

54.  
Thus did the Heir of Heaven betimes begin  
To 〈◊〉 out Patience to his World below,  
To sanctify all Persecution,  
And make it by his owning, glorious grow:  
Who but new born, designed is to die,  
And long e'er He can go, is fain to fly   

55.  
Aurora now, the Porter of the Day,  
Got up, and opened the door unto the Sun;  
Who peeping out with an abashed Ray,  
Beheld how far these Travellers had gone  
E'er He awoke, and doubted whether He  
Should in that Day's Horizon needed be.   

56.  
For He observed the Babe abroad, whose sight  
Cost Him a deeper Blush than that which dies  
His morning Cheeks: Yet He cheered up his light,  
And venturing on, resolved to try his Eyes  
Upon that Infant-face of fullgrown Bliss  
As Eaglets use to do their own at His.   

57  
Now Love and Piety forbid, that thou  
My Psyche shouldst disdain to trace their way,  
Since I so fair a Convoy thee allow  
Which neither Dangers feareth, nor Delay.  
Thy God was glad to travel on an Ass,  
But in this Chariot gives thee leave to pass.   

58.  
That leave too noble is, cried she, for Me,  
A meaner thing than what He road upon:  
Might I on foot, or rather on my Knee  
Crawl in his royal Path, no Princes Throne,  
Should tempt Me from my greater Honour:— 'Tis  
Enough, said Phylax, now no more of this.   

59  
And here He took her up, and shook the Reins:  
That Item straight the greedy Coursers caught,  
And, scouring through the soft aereal Plains,  
Unto their View the Fields of Nazaret brought:  
Psyche soon knew the Place again, and cried,  
How much do these thy Steeds my Thoughts outride.   

60.  
Pity thy Lord then, said the Guardian, who  
Though drove by Fear, was forced to use a pace  
Below the Name of Speed: Joseph did go  
Before on foot, and lead the laden Ass:  
He led Him, and although He made no stay,  
Alas his very Going was Delay.   

61.  
Besides, a thousand Cares more heavy lay  
Upon his Heart, then on his back the Load  
Of all his Tools: What Thoughts about the Way,  
What studies how to scape the full-eyed Road,  
What Tenderness to keep the Mother warm,  
What dainty Fears that God should take no Harm!   

62.  
See'st thou this private Path, which ever since  
With Lilies and with Violets hath smiled,  
Which it received from the influence  
Both of the passant Mother and the Child?  
The Country wondered at the beauteous List,  
But from what cause it sprung, they little wist.   

63.  
As to the Sea, the silver River through  
A thousand bypaths steals its secret Way;  
So into Egypt this sweet Tract doth flow,  
Declining all things that its course might stay.  
Doubt not the Windings, but securely ride,  
For now the Way itself's thy fragrant Guide.   

64.  
Look how the Galilean Villages  
Their distance keep, and give the Path free leave  
To stretch it feit through all these Privacies:  
Look how the friendly Trees do interweave  
Their Arms, and offer their Protection to  
Whoever here in Secrecy would go.   

65.  
There did the careful Mother light, to give  
Her Son his Dinner from her blessed Breast;  
Whom with fit Entertainment to receive,  
Kind Earth that sweetly-swelling Cushion dressed:  
Where e'er you see th' officious Flowers meet  
In such a Junto; know it was her Seat.   

66.  
But yonder Stable which thou seest shut  
Quite out of Town, and standing all alone,  
Did in its hospitable Litter let  
The Pilgrims take their first night's station.  
They with such Lodging long acquaintance had,  
And thou knowest what thy Lord his Cradle made.   

67.  
Such Inns as this did careful Joseph choose  
And scaped Observance all the way He went  
Neither the Calileans, nor the Jews  
Discovering his provident intent.  
With painful Patience He his way did find,  
And at the length Judea left behind.   

68  
He left Judea; but first left by it,  
Since now to find his Charge, the bloody Prince  
Deeply consulted. Thus thy Spouse thought fit  
To teach his future Exiles, that the sense  
Of their sad Sufferings sat full near his Heart  
Who in this Banishment bore so deep a Part.   

69.  
The freedom of the Reins here Phylax threw  
Upon his Courser's Backs, who cheered by  
That liberty, with sprightful fervour flew  
And scorned the Towns which far below did lie,  
Flinging their gallant foam, and snuffing up  
The Air, which seemed to them their Course to stop.   

70.  
The Clouds took notice of their resolute haste,  
And stepped aside to make their Passage clear;  
Through which their smoking wheels did whirl as fast  
As Phebu's down the hill of his glib sphere:  
Which instantly so tired the Northern Wind,  
That puffing he and lagging came behind.   

71.  
Thus having lost Judea in a Mist  
Of farre-removed Aire, they rushed into  
The famous Deserts unperceived list,  
Where their impatient Fire did spur them so  
That Phylax checked them thrice, e'er they would hear  
His Hand, and stop their vehement career.   

72.  
And then: Consider Psyche, well, said he,  
This squalid Scene of churlish Desolation,  
This proper Region of Perplexity,  
This Soil all planted thick with Desperation,  
This storehouse of a thousand Famine's, this  
Fountain of Droughts, this Realm of Wretchedness:   

73.  
This Country, which doth by its Neighbourhood  
To Canaan (that wide-spread Channel, where  
Honey and Milk conspired into a flood  
Of costless, but incomparable Cheer,)  
Advance the value of that blessed Soil,  
And its own vileness aggravate the while.   

74.  
Thus sticks black Night as foil unto the Day,  
And by its Blackness lends it fairer Beams:  
Thus Sorrows stings enhance the sweets of Joy;  
Thus Floods of Gall commend the Honey streams;  
Thus Darkness cleaved fast upon the backs  
Of Looking-Glasses, them illustrious makes.   

75.  
Well knew wise Heaven Men would not understand  
Its royal Favour in'affording them  
The gentle Riches of a fertile Land,  
Were they not tutored by some such Clime  
Of Woes and Horrors, and forced to confess  
A Gardens Blessing, by a Wilderness.   

76.  
Behold these needless Banks of Sand, which have  
No Seas to bond, but this vast Ocean  
Of Barrenness; where when the Winds conceive  
High-swolln Displeasure, and to Battle run  
Bandying their mutual Blasts a thousand ways  
At once, a dry and parching storm they raise.   

77.  
For the wild Soil impatient to be ploughed  
At Eolu's pleasure, flies full in his face,  
And climbing up into a Tawny Cloud  
With smoking Rage torments its new-gained Place,  
Whilst blinded Passengers amazed stand,  
And all the Air is nothing else but Sand.   

78.  
This frighted gentler Nature far from hence,  
Who in her bosom all 〈◊〉 Blessings bore,  
Her teeming Springs delicious Influence,  
Her Summer's Beauties, and her Autumn's store:  
And all the best of Winter too; for here  
This sandy Mischief schorcheth all the year.   

79.  
The Trees, You see, are all dispersed and fled,  
For fear of being only Fuel here,  
And that before the Axe had summoned  
Them to the Hearth. The cheerly Birds which were  
Th' Inhabitants of their Bows, did them pursue,  
Panting their sad lays all the way they flew.   

80.  
This most inhospitable Earth will keep  
No Entertainment for tame honest Beasts,  
Goats, Asses, Camels, Horses, Oxen, Sheep,  
Can at her wretched Table be no Guests.  
No; this is only Mischiefs cursed stage,  
Where Beasts of Prey, and Monsters act their rage.   

81.  
Look where a pair of dreadful Tigers lie  
Couching in Ambush to attend their prey;  
How should a fainting Traveller get by  
When two such hungry Deaths beset his way!  
There runs a Lion, with his hideous Note  
Tearing, for want of meat his greedy throat.   

82.  
At the same Business there's a female Bear  
In meat and drink two days and nights behind,  
Whose pined Whelps all yelling in her Ear  
Chode her abroad some Sustenance to find.  
There runs a Boar, and whitens all his Path  
With foam, the scum of his intemperate Wrath.   

83.  
But mark that Cave, before whose nasty Door  
An heap of excremental Poisons lies,  
Next which, a Quakemire of congealed Gore  
Railed round about with naked Bones, descries  
What part fell Fury there hath played and who  
Dwells in that House whose Porch is trimmed so.   

84.  
That gloomy Cloud which dams the Dens mouth up  
Is but the Tenant's breath which keeps within,  
Who by our Talk is wakened unto hope  
Of some near Prey: See now He doth begin  
To rouse Himself; the Fire he spits before  
Is but the Porter to unlock his Door.   

85.  
Though Psyche now had cheered & wrought her Heart  
Unto a more than female Valour; yet  
She could not curb her 〈◊〉, but 'gan to start  
At that all-flaming Dread the Monster spit:  
When Phylax smiling on her horror, cried,  
Fear not, for Heaven and I am at thy side.   

86.  
Of his own Coming, by his cruel Hiss  
He warning gives; that stream of coal-black Blood  
He spews so thick, his wont Usher is.  
Thus when some choice Fiend breaks from Hell, a flood  
Of stinking Sulphur paves his dismal way,  
A bashing all the Air, and poisoning Day.   

87.  
Behold his Eyes like two bright Firebrands placed  
In Cakes of blood, their fatal beams display  
So with long flakes of glaring Rays enchased,  
Unto heavens Anger Comets light the Way,  
Pointing with every beam, to Cities, or  
To Realms, and Countries, Famine, Plague, or War.   

88  
His Mouth which Foams with Venom, is the Gate  
Of helpless Misery: his Jaws the Mill  
Of deplorable, and untimely Fate,  
His tongue a Weapon, on whose Fork do dwell  
A thousand Deaths; his throat, so black and broad,  
To his unhappy Preys the beaten Road.   

89.  
His leathern Wings are those which lend its speed  
Unto Destruction; his iron Paws  
Are Spites and Rages Hands; his direful Head,  
The Oracle whence Tyrants draw their Laws;  
His scaly skin, the thick Embroidery  
Of confident remorseless Cruelty.   

90.  
His knotty Tail, pointed with stinging Fire,  
Which on his back in sullen scorn he throws,  
Is Death's dread Chain; that unrelenting Ire  
Which sits so high upon his craggy Brows,  
Is an aforehand Sentence unto All  
Beasts, Birds, or Men, that in his way do fall.   

91.  
Hark how the bruised Air complains, now He  
Moves the huge flails of his most boisterous Wings:  
For the soft Nymph elsewhere was used to be  
Beaten with Feathers, or melodious Strings:  
Look in what state He through the Clouds doth stream;  
The smoke before him rolls, behind the Flame.   

92.  
As when the martial Griffen hovers near  
The greedy Kite forgets his chased Prey,  
And turning Partner in the Sparrows fear  
With her into some Corner sneaks away:  
So do all Monsters here acknowledge this  
Their Sovereign in all Rage and Dreadfulness.   

93.  
Thou now seest neither Lion, Boar, nor Bear,  
This Dragon's Presence chased them all away  
Unto their closest Dens, and Caverns, where  
They trembling lie, and durst not look on Day.  
So do all other strange portentous Things  
Frighted hence by the Thunder of his Wings.   

94.  
For else, thou here hadst Troops of Centaurs seen,  
A strange Composure of Horse-Infantry:  
Else Sphinx, and her ambiguous Brood, had been  
Abroad in all her forefront Bravery,  
And with her polished Maiden face contended  
Her grizely Lions Parts to have amended.   

95.  
Else had unsatiable Harpies, her  
Near Cousin Portents in the Winged Crew  
Boldly about this correspondent sphere  
With Virgins Looks, and Vultures Talons flew:  
Else the salacious Fauns had here been skipping,  
The Satyrs dallying, and the Silvans tripping.   

96.  
Else had that Riddle of Deformity,  
That Combination of all foul Disgrace,  
Who by the Belly of a Goat doth tie  
A Dragon's Tail unto a Lion's Face,  
Ranged about these Sands, and sought what Prey  
It's equall-monstrous Hunger might allay.   

97.  
Hast thou not heard how when old Israel's Race  
Did through the Trials of this Wilderness  
Unto the well-deserving Promise pass,  
They fell a Murmuring, because Success  
Posted not on as fast as their Desire,  
And yielding to the Way, began to tyre?   

98.  
This made the Just Creator grant Commission  
To Vengeance, his most trusty Factoress, who  
Mounting upon the back of Expedition  
Down to the Bottom of the World did go,  
Whose choicest Dens of Horror having eyed,  
Unto Erynni's Grott she turned aside.   

99  
The Fury started, and upon her head  
Strait up, stood every Snake: She ne'er till now  
Had seen a sight so full of fatal Dread,  
Though oft she viewed the deepest Deeps, and though  
She daily used for her Looking-glasses  
Her correspondent Sisters Monstrous Faces.   

100  
For in the Strangers furrowed Brows were sown  
The Seeds of everlasting Indignation;  
Her Eyes were constant Lightning, flashing down  
Upon her fiery Cheeks, and with their Motion  
Glancing a more than High-noon-day upon  
The frighted Night of that black Region.   

101.  
Her sturdy Breast was made of burning Brass,  
Her massy Arms composed of sparkling Steel;  
Her adamantine Hands did sway a Mace  
Of red-hot Iron; at her Back did dwell  
A Quiver stuffed with forked Bolts of Thunder,  
Well-skilled in tearing Clouds and Rocks in sunder   

102.  
Fear, Anguish, Pain, Astonishment, Dispair,  
Dissension, Tumult, War, Plague, Famine, Drought,  
Confusion, Poisonous and Tempestuous Air,  
Eversion, Desolation Crying out,  
Wring of Hands, Gnashing of Teeth, Sighs, Groans,  
Soule-gnawing Worms, were her Companions.   

103.  
So were Schism, Error, flinty Obduration,  
With Pride, and Impudence in Villainy,  
And She, who though her fairer Garb and fashion  
Seened to suit more with lovely Company,  
Was yet as rank a Curse as they, for She  
Was zealous, but blind and false sanctity.   

104.  
But Vengeance spying her Erynnis quake,  
Constreind her dreadful Aspect to remit  
Part of its awfulness; and tried to speak  
As mild as She looked fierce: yet when She set  
Open her Mouths furnace, unto all the Cave  
Loud Thunder notice of her speaking gave.   

105.  
Fear not, said She, I on an errand come  
Which well will suit with thy revengeful thought:  
The Sons of Jsrael thou knowst, with whom  
My Sovereign's Patience long time hath fought:  
Indeed He leads them through a Barren Earth,  
Bur yet He makes Heaven bring their Victuals forth.   

106.  
Yet Peevish murmuring they have forced Heaven to  
Repent its Kindness: Wherefore thou must spare  
Some of thy Locks, which I am sent to throw  
About that Deserts now devoted Air;  
Where they shall lash the Rebels, till they see  
What 'tis to kick at God, and Waken Me.   

107.  
Me, whom soft Mercy long asleep had kept  
Upon a Bed which She herself had made:  
Me, who for ever might in Peace have slept  
Did Mortals not take pleasure in this Trade  
Of sending up their shameless sins, to tear  
By their bold cry, my most unwilling Eare.   

108.  
Me, who did never move this Hand in vain,  
Nor knew what 'twas or Stroke or Aim to lose;  
Me, who cannot be charmed a-sleep again  
But by the dying Groans of my proud foes;  
Me, whose sure Power itself full deep did seal  
On Lucifer, and rammed him down to Hell.   

109.  
Erynnis glad to hear this Message, tore  
Two handfuls of her Tresses from her Head:  
Which Vengeance forth with to this Desert bore  
And through the trembling Air their volumes spread;  
First having breathed on them warlike fire  
Which all their breasts filled with mischievous Ire.   

110.  
No sooner were they tossed up, but they  
Perceived themselves increased round about:  
Their Tails reached out themselves an hideous way,  
And from their sides a pair of Wings burst out;  
Whose motion puffed and increased the flame  
Which over all their monstrous Scales did stream.   

111.  
Their own Instinct taught them the readiest way  
To the rebellious Camp of Israel:  
Where seizing straight upon their helpless Prey,  
Their fiery Poison they so thick did spill,  
That all the Host had their Burnt-offring been,  
Had seasonable Mercy not stepped in.   

112.  
Mercy stepped in, and by a Contreplot  
Rearing a Brazen Serpent up, did heal  
All that were stung with fire, if they would put  
Trust in the Medicine of that Spectacle  
They gazed, and saw their Help, but could not pry  
Into the bottom of that Mystery.   

113.  
That crucified Serpent did present  
Thy Spouse, who reigning on his Cross, did by  
His potent Dying gallantly prevent  
The Plot of Death, which more than He, did die;  
And crush the old red Dragon, who had hurled  
His monstrous Venom all about the World.   

114.  
And now thou know'st the Pedigree of this  
Fierce Portent, which inflames and taints the Air,  
His fiery Looks, and smoking flight confess  
Of what Progenitors He is the Heir.  
Think now how sweet a Pilgrimage it was  
When thy young Lord did through such Monsters pass,   

115.  
Yet even this Passage, Psyche, shall appear  
So precious unto future Saints, that They  
Will seek their Harbour no where else but here,  
And make these Sands the Shore where they will lay  
Their Vessels safe from all those storms which rage  
Upon a secular Life's unfaithful Stage.   

116.  
This Passage they will judge a Dedication  
Of all this Tract, to holy Privacy,  
Where they in undisturbed Contemplation  
Of Heaven, shall sweetly live, and sweetlier die;  
Fearing no longer other Monsters, when  
They once have rescued themselves from Men.   

117.  
Here will they build so strongly-mean a Cell  
As shall no Tempest nor no Plunder fear:  
Here they with Health and Industry will dwell,  
With Pains and Providence, but not with Care:  
Here they will importuned Earth entreat  
With Herbs or Roots to recompense their Sweat.   

118.  
For neither stub born Flint, nor arid Sand  
Their Barrennesses Privilege will dare  
Strictly to urge against the painful Hand  
Of pious Poverty: Those Charters are  
Of Nature's giving, and must needs give place  
Unto the grand Prerogative of Grace.   

119.  
Here will their Eyes not interrupted be  
With fond Allurements of the newest Fashions,  
Whose Commendation speaks their Vanity,  
It being only built upon Mutations.  
Their simple Sackcloth in one cut and guise  
To hide their Dust and Ashes will suffice.   

120.  
Here shall no noise of chincking Money be  
Rebounded by their Heart's enchanted strings;  
That Noise which with such charming Melody  
Through all the World's unhappy Quarters rings,  
And gains more Altars far for Mammon, than  
Will unto Heaven allowed be by Men.   

121.  
Here shall no glancing Eye, no mincing Pace,  
No sporting Locks,, no dainty Red and White,  
No wanton Dress, no Tongues melodious Grace,  
No bidding Coyness, no inviting Flight,  
Prevail upon their manly Hearts, to brook  
The tickling Slavery of a Woman's Yoke.   

122.  
Here no Ambition shall puff up their Breast,  
And in their Soul a foolish dropsy raise,  
Who by themselves are freely dispossessed  
Of all those Gardens which can bring forth Bays,  
And live upon a Soil which nothing bears  
But Poverty, and Roots, and Sighs, and Tears.   

123.  
Here shall they by no care of Wife and Child  
Be called away in Conscience from their Prayers,  
But shall by Virtues daily Progrese build  
Unto the Top of Heaven their mystic stairs,  
By which they once again the World shall leave,  
Nobly rebounding upward from their grave.   

124.  
But now this long Discourss devoured had  
The longer Way, and Egypt did draw near.  
Thebai's Fields and Woods, and Towns, were glad  
That to the Desert they next Neighbours were,  
And to these Strangers might the first afford  
Kind Entertainment, as once to their Lord.   

125.  
When, Lo, said Phylax, now the World grows tame,  
And a mild hospitable Prospect yields,  
These are the outmost skirts of populous Ham  
Tufted with Woods, and laced with flowery Fields:  
A welcome Harbour to those Pilgrims, who  
Have laboured through this Deserts Sea of Woe.   

126.  
At the last Furrows end thus Rest doth stand  
And gently leads the Weary Ploughman home:  
So hangs the Garland at the Race's end,  
Smiling upon the Runners as they come;  
So Summer cheers the pined Earth, when she  
Has run through Winter's total Tyranny.   

127.  
Hither this Joseph came; and brought with Him  
Far more Salvation, than the Other, though  
From Famine's Jaws he Egypt did redeem,  
And fed seven starved years with Corn enough:  
Hither He came, and brought with him the Bread  
By which the World eternally is Fed.   

128.  
How glad was he to see his Charge was here  
Arrived safe through all those perilous Ways!  
Upon the Child he looked, but through a Tear  
Of Love and Joy, and paid their Safeties Praise  
To him whose Providence had in that wide  
Region of Dangers, to his Guides been Guide.   

129.  
Then passing to that Town thou seest there  
Which from old Hermes borrowing its Fame,  
The title of Hermopolis doth wear,  
Near unto that Religious Tree he came:  
The Natives call it Persia, and with high  
Esteem its Leaves and Apples magnify.   

130.  
Observe them well: Each Leaf presents the true  
Shape of a Tongue, which talks its whispering part  
To every Wind: The dangling Apples show  
The perfect feature of a panting Heart.  
O that the World would learn this of the ree,  
That with the Tongue, the Heart should joined be!   

131.  
Blind Superstition had hallowed it  
To Isi's honour; but the honest Tree  
Made bold that fond Relation to forget  
When thy great Spouse drew near: for instantly  
With orthodox Devotion pliant grown  
Unto the Earth her Head she bowed down:   

132.  
Where she with all her Hearts the Child adored,  
And, as she could, with all her Tongues, did sound  
His Praise who is of Hearts and Tongues sole Lord.  
Then having with her Boughs sweeped clean the Ground  
She rose and gave Him way, yet out she stretched  
Her Neck, and after him her Arms she reached.   

133.  
But when near to the City Gate he came,  
Isis, of stupid Marble made, and there  
Set up, and wisely fastened on a Frame  
Full as divine a stone as she; with fear  
And awe surprised was, and began to quake  
At first, and then to bend, and then to break.   

134.  
Poor Idol! which had never Sense till now,  
And now feels only its own Ruin: Down  
Tumbles the long adored Goddess Cow,  
Resigning back that Worship to its own  
True Lord, which she had long usurped by  
The help of Egypt's mad Idolatry.   

135.  
Her fair spread Horns are shattered off; her Brow  
Bruised out of fashion; and quite broke her Neck:  
The Deity advanced to Rubbish now  
Has Power to help the Country, if in thick  
And miry way disposed: which sure is more  
Assistance than it ever gave before.   

136.  
Thus when the Reverend Ark of God was set  
In Dagons' Temple, down the Idol fell,  
And making haste out at the Door to get,  
Quite broke his Godship on the stronger Sell;  
Where when his Servants entered, they found  
The wretched Fish in its own Ruins drowned.   

137.  
But in the Cities (and the People's) Heart  
Upon a golden Pillar mounted high  
And decked with all the wit and Pride of Art  
Serapis stood; the Ox of Majesty;  
Whose Glory by a consecrated Crown  
Wreathed about his mighty Horns was shown.   

138.  
As in that street the noble Pilgrims went  
Enquiring for an Inn; the guilty Beast  
His steely Knees, and brazen Body bend,  
And by his massy Weight so strongly cast  
Himself upon the ground, that to an heap  
Of Fragments from his Godhead he did leap,   

139.  
The People wondered at the Prodigy:  
But Joseph and his Virgin Consort knew  
To what more powerful Divinity  
The Idol did his due Obeisance show.  
What by inspired Esays Pen had been  
Pointed out long a-forehand, they had seen.   

140.  
He had foretold that into Egypt thy 
Isa. 19 1.   
Great Spouse should on a swift Cloud mounted ride  
And that the Idols should be moved by  
His potent Presence; And they soon descried  
This Cloud to be his Mother's Bosom, where  
He shrow rode the fastest place of fear.   

141.  
This made good Joseph travel up and down  
To spread the Ruin of Idolatry  
Through every populous superstitious Town  
Which did the Horned Statues Deify;  
His righteous Soul being tortured, to see  
That Men should more than Marble stupid be,   

142.  
And wheresoe'er upon Zeals Wings he flew  
Equal Success still bore him company;  
Still the infernal Spirits their Lodgings threw  
In pieces, as thy mighty Lord drew nigh.  
Thou shalt no further go; but I will tell  
Thee here, what Wonders afterward befell.   

143.  
The Heart of Egypt melted down its Breast,  
As from their Pillars their vain Gods had done.  
The Priests and sage Magitiaus broke their Rest  
To find this Accidents Occasion:  
And all one night resolved, at counsel met,  
To spend their utmost spells and Charms on it,   

144.  
Jannes, a Man both of his Race and Name  
Who Moses did oppose, the work began:  
'Twas in a Vault, where Days looks never came,  
Untroad as yet by any mortal Man  
Who was not full as black as they, and made  
Solemnly free of their accursed Trade.   

145.  
In this deep Temple of Infernal Arts  
Lighting a Taper tempered with the Fat  
That grew about his Predecessors Hearts,  
It in a dead Man's mossy Skull he set:  
The Mists and Stinks long wrestled with the flame,  
But at the last the Taper overcame.   

146.  
Then gaping wide, both with his Mouth and Eyes,  
He spewed seven solemn Curses on Daylight,  
Which though it saw the broken Deities,  
Would not oetect what sacrilegious Might  
Had thrown them down: And then those Gods he blest  
Whose luck it was in gloomy Holes to rest.   

147.  
For on a Shrine still standing there appeared  
Serapis, Isis, and a smoky Rout  
Of lester Gods: The Altar was besmeared  
With thick and bloody Gore; and round about  
In 〈◊〉 fragments lay Cheeks, Noses, Eyes,  
Hearts, Shoulders, LIvers, Legs, Arms, Bowels, Thighs.   

148.  
These hideous Dainties, was the Breakfast for  
A Crocodile, which in the Corner lay:  
But tained by strong Enchantments, durst not stir  
When ever to their Magic Business they  
Addressed themselves. No Monster, but compared  
With them, a mild and gentle Thing appeared.   

149.  
The Walls with Leeks and Onions garnished were,  
For courteous Egypt had made Gods of these,  
And from her well-dunged Soil reaped every year  
A worthy Crop of young fresh Deities.  
Upon the Reofe did painted Nilus flow,  
That God whose bounty makes those other grow.   

150.  
Here Jannes, having thrice washed his left Hand,  
And stained with it Cocytus Streams, which he  
Had in a Laver by: He takes his Wand,  
That Wand which once lived on a Cypress Tree  
Planted on Acheron's Bank, but now was made  
The deadly Sceptre of their Magic Trade.   

151.  
A Sceptre unto which the Moon, the Sun,  
The Stars, had often stooped, and Nature bowed:  
Oft had it turned the course of Phlegeton;  
Oft had it troubled Hell, and forced the proud  
Tyrant, for all his Iron Mace, to be  
Obedient to its monstrous Witchery,   

152.  
With that he draws a Circle on the Floor;  
(Spread thick with Ashes of a funeral Pile,)  
Which with strange Lines, and Hooks, and Forks, and Store  
Of shapeless shapes and Figures he doth fill,  
Wild Heiroglyphicks, stark mad Characters,  
Whilst each Draught with his Neighbour snarls and jars.   

153.  
Into this Hell of scratches in steps he,  
(Almost as strange a thing as it,) and there  
Three groans he gave, three times he bowed his Knee;  
He thrice with blood besprinkled his Left Ear;  
Three times he struck the ground, and mumbled o'er  
The Monsters he had written there before.   

154.  
Then lifting up his hollow Voice, he cried,  
By Jannes and by Jambres our great Sires;  
By Pharaohs adamantine Soul, which tried  
A fall with Israel's God; By all those Fires  
Which we have on your Altars laid, and them  
Which in black Styx or Erebus do swim:   

155.  
By these profound mysterious Notes which I  
Have figured here; by dread Tyfiphone,  
By stern Allecto, and Megaera; by  
Huge Cerberns his Heads Triplicity;  
By Hell's wide open Gates; by the divine  
Sceptres of Pluto, and of Proserpina.   

156.  
By your own Heads, who only here have your  
Safe Sanctuary found; I you conjure  
Serapis, Isis, and each lesser Power,  
No longer your dishononr to endure.  
What boots it here to be a standing God,  
If even the best of You falls down abroad:   

157.  
For from Hermopolis unfortunate Gate  
Ruin set forth, and boldly made her Prey  
On every public Deity, whose fate  
It was to stand in her devouring Way.  
Whence comes this Down-fall of Religion? What  
Has spread amongst the Gods this deadly Rot?   

158.  
Let Me but know, and I will make Heaven bow  
And kiss the feet of Hell: the Centre I  
Will in the face of scornful Phoebus' throw,  
And at high noon with Midnight choke the Sky:  
But I will be revenged for you, and make  
(Though they be all the World) your Enemies quake,   

159.  
Here the black foam stopped up his Mouth; and He  
With griezly ghastly face, with staring Eyes,  
With Breast tormented by Anxiety,  
With languid Arms and Hands, with quivering Thighs,  
Expect the Issue of his Charms to see,  
And what his Oracles Reply would be.   

160.  
When lo, (for then thy Spouse was coming nigh  
That very place) a hideous Groan did fill  
The mourning Vault, which was rebounded by  
So strong an Earthquake, that the Idols fell,  
And by their prostrate fragments in the Cave  
Did their own Temple turn into their Grave.   

161.  
Scarcely had Jannes and his frighted Crew  
Time to escape the Rheum of their Gods:  
But being out, their Books away they threw  
In indignation, and broke their Rods;  
And having nothing else whereon to pour  
Their Spite, their lips they bit, their hair they tore.   

162.  
His secret Vengeance thus thy Little Lord  
Sheathed in the Bowels of Idolatry,  
Whilst puzzled Egypt never saw the Sword,  
Nor knew for whom it reaped this Victory.  
The Angel thus of old their Firstborn slew,  
When undiscerned through the Land He flew.   

163.  
Mean while fell Herod busy was about  
The matchless Masterpiece of Tyranny:  
Which how it was Conceived, and how Brought  
Forth, the dull Vulgar's Ey 's too dim to see,  
For it was hatched as low as Hell: But I  
To thee will open all the black Mystery.   

164.  
Mischievous were that Prince's Counsels: But  
Proud Lucifer had deeper Plots than He  
And feared his Crown more than did Herod, at  
The newborn Kings high-famed Discovery;  
For in his ears the Shepherd's Story rung,  
And the strange Music of the Christmas Song.   

165.  
The Mouth of Thunder never yet had spoke  
Such Terror to his Soul, as those soft Notes,  
Which tuned to Joys and Peace's Key, had broke  
From the sweet Nests of those bright Angels Throats.  
Nor was this Omen all: for He had spied  
That Eastern Star which did the Wisemen guide.   

166.  
No Light did ever fright Him so, but that  
Whose Darts did throw him headlong from the Top  
Of heavens sublimest Pinnacle, and shut  
Him up in deepest Night: where He keeped shop  
And every sort of sinful Wares did sell  
To those who with their Souls will purchase Hell.   

167.  
For now he knew his Trade would never thrive,  
And that few Chapmen would delight to buy;  
So long as that great Infant was alive,  
With whose more profitable Deity  
Shepherds and Kings to traffic had begun,  
And taught the World which way for Gains to run   

168.  
Ten thousand Spawns of his deep plotting Brain  
He tumbles o'er, yet none could please his Eye:  
Again he Thinks, and yet Dislikes again:  
But Vow's at last, how e'er, thy Spouse shall die.  
He Vow's by his own Head, and seeks some Fiend  
Who might dispatch the Business to his mind.   

169.  
A Rock there stands near to Cocytu's Bank  
Which to the River opes its monstrous Jaws,  
Sucking no other Breath, but what the rank  
And Sulphury Vapour of that Water throws  
Into its Mouth, which far more venomous makes  
The steaming Poison that from thence it takes.   

170.  
In winding Holes, and ragged Corners there  
Whole Families of Adders, Vipers, Snakes,  
Asps, Basilisks, and Dragons dwelling are,  
Whose constant and confounding Hissing makes  
The Language of that Mouth, and plainly tells  
What kind of Prodigy beyond them dwells.   

171.  
The Throat sticks thick with bones of Legs and Arms  
Which ravenous Haste had there left by the Way;  
With undigested Heaps the Stomach swarms  
Which in that Sink and Den of Murder lay;  
In whose immeasurable Bottom stood  
A reeking Lake of young and guiltless Blood.   

172.  
But at the Cavern, where the Heart should lie,  
Was hung a sevenfold Door of massy Brass,  
Plated with Adamant, and conjured by  
A thousand Bars and Locks, to let no cross  
Mischance peep in; besides as many Seals  
Treading on one another's crowded heels.   

173.  
Above, a Watchtower was, erected high,  
Windows full; where Linx stood night and day:  
Before the Door an hundred Dogs did lie,  
Upon whose ears no sleep did ever prey:  
Next them, as many Cocks; and next to these  
A vigilant Company of trusty Geese.   

174.  
Within were dark Meanders, dammed up  
By frequent Doors, and by their Porters too,  
Whose office never was to set them open,  
But see that not so much as Thought should go  
That way: They oft put out their Lights, for fear  
Some cunning Beam might spy a Cranny there.   

175.  
Before the inmost Gate, a mighty Moat  
The Palace far from Dangers did divide:  
No Bridge it knew, and but one single Boat,  
In which no more than one at once could ride;  
And this unto the shore fast Prisoner was  
Under a Chain of Steel, and Lock of Brass.   

176.  
Upon that shore in due Array was set  
With Weapons ready drawn, a treble Watch,  
That no Disturbance might presume to put  
Its finger forth, or touch the jealous Latch:  
They with a loud alarm all roused were  
If but the Image of a Noise came there.   

177.  
But in that House, so dark and so profound  
That Hell itself seems there sunk down in Hell;  
A Thing, o how much more than Monster, drowned  
Yet deeper in torturings, did dwell.  
One who had chose Disquiet for her Rest,  
One who all Furies is to her own breast.   

178.  
Suspicion is her Name: Full is her Head  
Of thoughtful Eyes, which always learning seem,  
And always wide open; for they know no Lid  
Which might 'twixt Labour interpose and them.  
They look on Sleep, as on a treacherous Thing  
Who might bring Dangers under his black Wing.   

179.  
But chiefly upon One Another they,  
Their jealous and misgiving Glances throw;  
And 'cause they can no grounds of fear bewray,  
Of the more deep-layd Dangers fearful grow:  
And whilst they all thus mutually stare,  
Each bids his brother of himself beware.   

180.  
Her large thin Ear stood always pricked upright  
To catch each Sound and Whisper that came near:  
Sometimes, as her own Fancy took its flight  
But through her head, she thought some Noise was there,  
Her hollow Cheeks had gaped long for meat,  
But Doubts and Fears forbade her still to eat.   

181.  
In every Dish and Cup she seemed to see  
Some Poysonsliely laid in Ambushment.  
Alas, and could there any Venom be  
So venomous as she, who might have lent  
New power to Dragon's stings; and mad each field  
Of Thessaly, fairer Crops of Poison yield.   

182.  
Her Garments were inpenetrable Steel,  
Of the same Temper with great Satan's shield:  
A brazen Buckler did her left Hand fill.  
And in her right, a mighty Sword she held:  
Weapons with which she never did intend  
To fight, but only her own Head defend,   

183.  
Her Chair had forty iron Feet; which all  
Where double nailed to the ground; Yet she  
Believed not but still the Seat might fall  
By sudden undermining Treachery:  
This made her seldom sit; and when she did,  
Over her shoulder still she turned her Head.   

184.  
No Morning passed, but some on Work she set  
To make her new Keys; being jealous still  
Her Foes might patterns of her old ones get.  
seven times a month she changed her broad Seal;  
As her own Self she would have done, had she  
Known how to alter her Deformity.   

185.  
With contradicting Thoughts her Breast did rise;  
Which were no sooner liked, but rejected:  
She bolted every Counsel twice or thrice,  
And what did surest seem, she most suspected.  
Oft would she skip and fling about, and start.  
Sometimes at the mere Motion of her Heart.   

186.  
An Oath of strict Allegiance thrice a day  
She forced her numerous Family to take;  
And changed their Offices as oft, lest they  
Themselves too strong for her Commands might make.  
Strange Officers, yet fitting to attend  
Upon so true and Sovereign a 〈◊〉   

187.  
The first was tall and, big-boned Cowardice  
Whose lazy Neck upon her shoulders lay,  
And both her Hands upon her Head; her Eyes  
Were always winking lest the dint of Day  
Should them surprise; between her legs she hid  
Her Tail, which, as it touched them, shivered.   

188.  
Next Her, stood Cruelty, supported by  
Advantage; in her Hands all Engines were  
And fell Inventions of Tyranny:  
What Hooks, what Forks, what Whips, what Racks were there,  
What Insultation, what Wrath, what War,  
What Wounds, what Salvagnesse, what Massacre!   

189.  
Close in the Corner stood pale thoughtfulness,  
Upon whose lips fast sealed Silence sat:  
Her business was a thousand things to guess;  
She stamped, her head she scratched, her breast she beat,  
Her wearied Eyes she nailed on the ground,  
And in her endless self, herself she drowned.   

190.  
About the Room ran furious Discontent,  
And when all others did escape her War,  
She waged it with herself; her Clothes she rend,  
Her cheeks she gashed, and she tore her hair:  
But Malice ssiely crept, and dealt her spite  
Unto her Neighbours in a secret Fight.   

191.  
Yet slippery Guile was nimbler than the rest:  
Her acquaint Attire was of Chameleons skins;  
She in two minutes could become at least  
An hundred Virtues and as many Sins,  
All Polypusse's feet she had, and was  
Fortunes true Echo, Proteu's lookingglass.   

192.  
With Her, was complemental flattery,  
With silver Tongue, and more than golden Words:  
Her hand she always kissed, and bend her knee,  
But in her Mantle hid two poisoned swords.  
Of these, and thousand others like to them,  
Did foul Suspicion her household frame.   

193.  
When Lucifer had raked many Dens  
And found no Fury furious enough  
To manage his Design; at last he runs  
Down to this sink; where as He began to show  
His sulphury face, the Porters quickly knew  
Their Sultan, and the Gates wide open threw.   

194.  
The Boat flew from its chain to meet His feet  
And wafted Him unto the Privy Watch;  
Down fell their Swords; up went their Hands, to greet  
Their Sovereign's Coming, and to draw the Latch:  
Suspicion started as they opened the Door,  
And wondered why her Dogs barked not before.   

195.  
But dread and Awe had stopped their Mouths, as now  
They sealed Hers too, to see grand Lucifer:  
She feared the worst; and thought that in his brow  
She read some lines of Wrath and Spite to Her.  
But He wiped from his Lips the Fire and Smoke,  
And, with a Kisses Preface, thus He spoke.   

196.  
Madame, be not afraid, for well I know  
And love my Friends, and thou art one of them;  
Witness that mighty Trust which I will now  
Treasure in Thee; it is my Diadem,  
My Diadem is lost, if thou dost not  
Procure Destruction to Mary's Brat.   

197.  
Herod will do his best, (I know him well,)  
If he be aided by thy Inspiration;  
There's not an Heart that lives, where more of Hell  
Has taken up its earthly habitation:  
Add but thy Power, and He will be complete,  
And bravely venture on the barbarous Feat.   

198.  
Thy Handmaid Cruelty alone will be  
Sufficient; take but Her along, and go.  
When Thou that Baby-Gods Blood bring'st to Me,  
I'll plant a Crown upon thy worthy Brow,  
And set Thee on an ever-burning Throne,  
Where thou shalt reign Queen of Perdition.   

199.  
Glad was the Hag to hear the business, and  
Promised her Lord her utmost Faith and Care;  
Who laying on her head his sooty Hand,  
Cried, Take Hell's Blessing with Thee, o my Dear,  
Success attend thy Loyalty, and may,  
heavens envious Tyrant not disturb thy way.   

200.  
Forthwith, through Asphaltite's odious Lake  
She tore her Path, and in the midst boiled up:  
The Sulphur started, and the Banks did shake,  
Down to the Bottom fled the frighted Top;  
That most victorious Stink which there did dwell  
Till now, could not endure Her stronger Smell.   

201.  
Horror on all the Elements did seize,  
And taught the rest, aswell as Earth, to quake.  
Blasting deflowered the Meadows, and the Trees;  
Her Noise a thousand Witche's Ghosts did wake,  
And made the Night-ravens croak, the Scritchowles squeak  
The Dogs howl, & the fatal Mandrakes' shriek.   

202.  
All Men and Beasts fled from her frightful Face;  
And Heaven itself would fain have run away,  
Had it but known of any other Place  
Besides its own, where to have turned that Day.  
Yet Phoebus made a shift to lurk and crowed  
His Eye behind the Curtain of a Cloud.   

203.  
But when she marked how Nature shunned her sight,  
She with Invisibility arrayed  
Herself, and, unsuspected as the Light,  
To He●ods Palace stole; where Care had laid  
The Tyrant fast asleep; Into whose breast  
Her Consort, and herself the Fury thrust.   

204.  
As when a Viper squeezed into his Bowl  
By Treasons secret hand, a heedless King  
Drinks down; the Poison in his Guts doth roll,  
And with a War of Pangs his Entrails wring:  
So did this Monster with tempestuous Smart,  
Rage in the Bowels of fell Herod's Heart.   

205.  
A thousand Fancies and selfe-thwarting Fears  
Ran through his Soul, and chased Sleep from his Eyes:  
When, starting up, his griezly Beard He tears,  
And round about his Chamber cursing Flies:  
He cursed Himself, and Heaven, and all its Stars,  
But chiefly that which pointed out his fears.   

206.  
Have I, said He, thus long attended on  
My petty Business, whilst my Crown and Head  
Lie at the Stake! Have I let Treason run  
And gather strength upon my life to tread!  
Fie Herod, fie! Wert thou that only He  
Who did a Sceptre count Felicity!   

207.  
What Madness made Thee suffer those bold Kings  
Who blazed the Birth of the Jessean Prince,  
To prate in Salem of such dangerous Things!  
Hadst thou not fire and sword to chase them thence!  
Could not thy flaming Steel have shined far  
More potently than their enchanting Star?   

208.  
But all the Furies stings are due to thee,  
For trusting their bare Word, for their Return.  
Art thou that famous King of Policy  
Who by thy Brain didst for thy Temples earn  
The Crown they wear! and canst thou cozened be  
By three old doting men's poor subtlety?   

209.  
See now how for thy credulous Courtesy  
Thou art repaid: Those Kings the News have spread  
Through all the Regions of Arabia;  
And by a joint consent have made an head  
To tear fooled Herod from his Throne, and set  
That Infant, as a wiser Prince, on it.   

210.  
Me thinks I smell the Battle drawing near,  
And see the Vengeance of my careless Brain;  
Me thinks the Thunder of their Arms I hear,  
And see their Lightning flashing on the Plain:  
Me thinks the Air about my Ears doth ring  
The shouted Name of Israel's newborn King.   

211.  
The Superstitious Priests will all comply  
With the new Powers against despised Me,  
And triumph that their reverend Prophecy  
In my dethroning They fulfilled see.  
My Idumean Stock too well they know,  
And much ado I had to make them bow.   

212.  
As for the giddy Multitude whom I  
Have with an heavy Sceptre pressed down,  
All Change to them will seem Felicity,  
Who all Conditions like before their own:  
But when Religion calls to Innovation,  
What Banks can curb a popular Inundation?   

213.  
My Nobles all will take the stronger side  
In hopes to serve a gentler Prince than I:  
Good store of Coin they have to lose, with wide  
And fair possessions, which will closely tie  
Them to the Eastern Powers, and make them run  
With them to idolise the Rising Sun.   

214.  
Heaven is a Thing which owes Me no good Will,  
Nor have I reason to expect its aid;  
'Twas ever my Desire, and is so still,  
To be mine own God: I confess I laid  
Some Monies out upon the Temple, but  
To mine own Ends I dedicated it.   

215.  
None have I left to trust but only Thee,  
O Thou my high and once Heroic Heart!  
Why may not some exploit of Cruelty  
Heightened beyond Example make Fate start?  
Why may not Herod's Sword cut out that Leaf  
Of Destiny which doth enrol his Grief?   

216.  
It must and shall be so: I will not own  
A Tyrant's Name for Nothing: let the Head  
Of Caesar wear the World's Imperial Crown  
With love and gentleness embellished;  
So I may safely reign, and show this Age  
The King of Wrath, and Emperor of Rage.   

217.  
And let heavens Sovereign thank himself, if I  
Torment him with a stouter sin, than yet  
In his scorned face from Earth did ever fly:  
Who bid Him wake my Fears? Who bid Him set  
An ominous Comet to outstare my Rest,  
And light Wars journey hither from the East?   

218.  
From two years old and under, every Child  
That breathes in Bethleem, and the Quarters round  
(That of my purpose I be not beguiled)  
Shall be my sacrifice: and if no Wound  
Amongst all those can find my Rivals Heart,  
Then let Him scape; I shall have done my part.   

219.  
But sure it cannot miss: And then I wonder  
What can the vain Arabian forces do:  
If the foundation once be split in sunder,  
On in their building they will never go;  
If I their Infant in his Bud do crop,  
Surely the dangerous flower will ne'er grow up.   

220.  
This said. He nods his special servant, (one  
Who might have Engine been to Pluto, and  
The deadliest business of all Hell have done,)  
Who joying in his Sovereign's Command,  
The black Commission writ, which was to be  
In blood transcribed by the soldiery.   

221.  
For Herod had an armed Crew, which He  
With mighty Care and Cost had picked and chose  
From Idumea, Scythia, Barbary;  
Men ruder than their Countries; all sworn Foes  
Unto Humanity; their Looks of Brass,  
Their Hands of Steel, their Heart of Marble was.   

222.  
As practised Tigers in the Theatre  
Let loose unto their keen and hungry spite,  
With dreadful joy hast to their wished War;  
Where, with their looks the helpless slaves they fright  
Out of their lives, and then their Bodies tear,  
Slaying again what first they killed by fear.   

223.  
So did these caitiffs unto Bethleem run  
With Knives and Falchions armed, and with their more  
Inhuman Weapon, their Commission,  
Counting Delay their Torment. With a Roar  
They entered the Town, and could not choose  
But signify all Hell was now broke loose.   

224.  
There they, in Herod's Name proclaim, that they  
By Him were sent a punctual List to take  
Of all the Infants which from such a Day  
In Bethleem and its Coasts were born: for lack  
Of every one's appearance, threatening to  
The Infant Death, and to the Mother Woe.   

225.  
These Summons through the Town and Country flew,  
And when the next Days Sun had reached its height,  
Into the Market place all Mothers drew  
Who in their Arms their tender Burdens brought:  
A Sight which might all Beasts unbarbarize,  
Yet drew no Pitry from these Soldier's Eyes.   

226.  
For they a Watch at every corner set,  
And then with all Extremities of Rage  
Their monstrous Charge in Execution put.  
The Sun's Eye never yet beheld a Stage  
So full of Tragedies, nor Hell spread forth  
In such a savage Pageant on the Earth.   

227.  
In vain the lamentable Mother's Cries  
And Tears, and Prayers, and loud Expostulations  
Mixed with their Infant Shrieks; although the Skies  
They filled, and rend with their strong Exclamations:  
For still the unrelenting Soldier's Ear  
Nothing but Herod's fell Command would hear.   

228.  
Their Preys they by the Arm, or Leg, or Head  
From their soft native Sanctuaries tore;  
Whose blood as in that barbarous strife they shed,  
They daubed the Mothers with the children's gore,  
And then their Bowels in their faces threw:  
Sure they had none, who thus could others show.   

229.  
The Townsmen who this Massacre beheld,  
Could lend no Succour to the Infant's Cry;  
By stiff Astonishment some being killed,  
Others by cruel Fear enforced to fly,  
Not knowing but the Soldier's dire Commission  
Might add the Fathers to their Babes Perdition.   

230.  
Heer Sarah kissed an Arm, Rebecca there  
A Leg; all that was left of either's Son:  
Heer Rachel Earth, and Air, and Heaven did tear  
With her impatient Lamentation,  
Having but two bemangled Hands to show  
Of those sweet Tiwnns which sucked her breast but now.   

231.  
Thus this most harmless flock of tender Lambs  
A woeful Heap of fragments did become,  
Their milky fleeces, and their whiter Names  
Being died deep in ruby Martyrdom:  
Thus 〈◊〉 Rama, now made childeless 〈◊〉,  
Thus all the Market was to Shambles turned.   

232.  
One Nurse was there, who when the Soldier caught  
Her Infant by the throat, cried out, Beware,  
This is great Herod's Son; and if you doubt,  
An hundred Witnesses here ready are.  
She cried; but e'er she had pronounced that Word,  
The Intants Heart was bleeding on the Sword.   

233.  
Thus provident Vengeance met the Tyrant in  
The forefront of his Crime, whilst blinded by  
His hasty Fears, his Rage he doth begin  
At his own Bowels: Herod's Son must die,  
And Heavn's escape the Sword, though He alone  
Was the aim of this vast destruction.   

234.  
This, when the slaughter Fame at Rome had told,  
And Caesar's ear with just amazement filled  
Made Him cry out: Were I to choose, I would  
Be Herod's Hog much rather than his Child.  
But Cesar knew not what the Babe did gain,  
Nor that He now more than himself did reign.   

235.  
These roseal Budds of early Martyrdom  
Transplanted were to Paradise, and there  
Beyond the reach of Herod, did become  
Flowers of eternal bliss, whose Temples are  
Embraced with crowns of joy, whose hands with Palms  
Whose eyes with beams, whose tongues are filled with psalms.   

236.  
But now the Bloodhounds back to Hered went  
And brandished on their stained Swords the Sign  
Of their own guilt. The sight gave high content  
To their fell Sovereign, hoping the Divine  
Infant was now destroyed, and that his Crown  
In spite of all Arabia was his own.   

237.  
Yet to make sure (for in a Tyrant's breast  
Suspicion like the Vulture feigned to gnaw  
On Tytiu's Soul, makes its eternal feast,)  
The Jews he summons by a rigid Law  
Without the least exception, to swear  
Allegiance unto Him, and to his Heir.   

238.  
Alas, He little thought his slaughtered Son  
Was now become a stronger Foe, than those  
Arabian Kings his own Suspicion  
Had armed against himself; or that there rose  
From the massacred Babes, a mighty Band  
Which scorned the power both of his Head & 〈◊〉   

239.  
For now these Infant's Blood to Heaven did send  
A louder Cry than had their Mothers done:  
Nor doth the great Creator's Justice lend  
A readier Ear to any Plaintiffs Moan,  
Than unto this: although Mortality  
Belongs to Man, Man's Blood can never 〈◊〉   

240.  
Next neighbour to the Dead Seas poisonous shore  
There stands a gloomy Grove, where cheerly Day  
Had never room to show her face, such store  
Of Box, Yew, Cypress, dammed up her way;  
Whose fatal Brows and Branches every where  
With Owls, and Bats, and Ravens impeopled 〈◊〉   

241.  
Beside, a sturdy Mist of Stinks doth stick  
Upon the wretched Air, and her deflower  
Unwholesome Vapours gathering black and thick  
Drop morn and even into a venomous shower,  
Where drunk up by the cursed Earth below  
It makes the Hemlocks and the Poppy grow.   

242.  
Amidst these dismal shades, is sunk a Cave,  
At whose black Door, uncessant Cries, and 〈◊〉  
And Ejulations the Office have  
Of never sleeping Porters: all the Stones  
Hang thick with Tears, being moved to that Compassion  
By the sad Genius of their Habitation,   

243.  
The Mistress of the House doth always lie  
Upon her weary Bed; which hedged in  
By melancholic Curtains, doth supply  
The Graves dark Office, and aforehand begin  
To teach her what her Coffin meant, and what  
Her Hearse, which ready by her Couch were set.   

244.  
Her Pillows were of softest Down, but yet  
On churlish Thorns and Stones she seemed to lie:  
Oft did she rose and turn and tumble, but  
Could never shift her sturdy Grief, which by  
That Motion only wakened was, and did  
But gather strength to roll about the Bed.   

245.  
Shootings, and Migraines raged in her Head,  
A desperate squinsey dammed up her throat,  
The tawny Jaundice in her Eyes was spread,  
The toothache of her Jaws full Power had got,  
Stark-raving Madness sat upon her Tongue,  
Ten thousand Cramps her shrivelled Body wrung.   

246.  
The Fever, Colic, Griping, Strangury,  
Gout, Apoplexy, Scurvy, Pestilence,  
Stone, Rupture, Phthisis, Dropsy, Pleurisy,  
Flux, Surfeit, Asthma, and the confluence  
Of all divided Deaths, united were  
In one strange Mass, and learned to live in Her.   

247.  
The odious Scab, the ever-gnawing Itch,  
The stinging Bile, the wasting Leprosy  
The baneful Pocks, the Wolf and Canker (which  
On her make fat their dreadful Luxury,)  
Conspire with every sort of horrid Sore  
To cloth her round with most infectious Gore.   

248.  
Pots, Papyrs, Glasses, sweet and stinking Things,  
Were marshaled on a Cupboard standing by,  
Which Physic brought to ease those Pangs and Stings,  
Or at the least cure her own Poverty.  
Costly Additions unto Pain were these,  
And only eased the Purses Pleurisies.   

249.  
For though full many a dear Doctor there  
Talked words as strange as her Diseases; yet  
Her pertinacious Torments would not hear  
Either there Drugs of Nature or of Wit,  
Nor mind their Stories, or regard at all  
Their Oracles out of the Urinal.   

250.  
Her whining Kindred stood about the Bed,  
And, though, alas, her case were too too plain,  
With tedious Love, still asked Her, how she did.  
Heaping that Crambe on her other Pain:  
Their fond Remembrances would never let  
Her any one of all her Pangs forget.   

251.  
Down to this Loathsome She, stern Justice came;  
Tall was her Person and her Looks were high,  
Strength in her martial Sinews made its home,  
Darts of keen fire did stream from either Eye;  
For she, what e'er Men Fancy, Eyes can find;  
Alas, Earth's Justice, and not heavens, is blind.   

252.  
Her right Hand held a Sword of two-edged flame,  
Her left a Balance: in one Scale did lie  
A mighty Mass inscribed with Herod's Name,  
A Mass of Pride and bloody Tyranny,  
Which pressed it down to Hell: Mean while the other  
Filled with vain Wind, flew up and left its Brother,   

253.  
When Sickness (for that was the Furies Name)  
Beheld her Sovereign Queen, she raised her Head,  
And to obeisance did her Body frame:  
Black Streams of poisonous Gore strait issued  
From all her Sores, and with outrageous stink  
Ran down into her Beds contagious sink.   

254.  
Up up, said Justice, and be dressed apace;  
I on an earnest errand thee must send:  
Time was when thou a tedious Way didst trace  
At Hells and envious Lucifer's Command;  
Usurpers, which have no just power on thee;  
'Tis fit thou do as much for Heaven and Me.   

255.  
Unto the Land of Uz they made thee run,  
And pour the bottom of thy whole despite;  
Upon the reverend Body of a Man  
Which was with matchless Purity bedight,  
More fair and bright was Job in heavens esteem,  
Than thou to Earth didst make him Horrid seem.   

256.  
He heaped this Scale as full of Virtue, as  
Fell Herod has replenished it with Vice:  
That empty one, so lightly hover, was  
His Score of faults, but mere Vacuities;  
Thin as the Air, which though it dusky be  
Sometimes with Clouds, regains its purity   

257.  
See now thou recompense that Injury  
By righteous Vengeance upon Herod: Lo  
There unbridle thy Extremity,  
And give thee leave in free career to go.  
Go then, and fully use thy full Command;  
His Body and his Life are in thy Hand.   

258.  
So spoke the Queen of everlasting Dread,  
And in her Black Cloud mounted home again.  
When Sickness leaping from her nasty Bed,  
And in fierce haste forgetting her own Pain,  
Furnished herself with every bitter sting  
Which most might torture the Condemned King.   

259.  
Then to her gloomy Chariot she went,  
Which of a poisonous Vapour framed was:  
Her speed was headlong, so was her Intent,  
And into Herod's Court she soon did press;  
For she by no slow paced Coursers Drawn.  
But by a pestilential Blast was blown.   

260.  
Unseen she came, and did so slily guide  
Her stealing Chariots silent Wheels, that she  
Quite down the Tyrant's cursed throat did glide  
As does his unsuspected Breath, which he  
Lets in to fan his heart: But this Blast came  
Qute to blow out, and not to puff his flame,   

261.  
Yet e'er it blew it out it strove to fry  
His black Soul in the furnace of his Breast.  
Torthwith his Entrails singed and scalded by  
An hidden fire, frighted away his Rest:  
He would have rise, but straight he felt his Pains  
Had with their Fire-branes mixed heavy Chains.   

262.  
His Strength deceiv's him, and his Bed is now  
His only throne, where he the King doth reign  
Of mighty Torments; all his Bowels 〈◊〉  
Exulcerated with deep-gnawing Pain;  
And Water swelling underneath his Skin  
Adds scoffing torture to the fire within.   

263.  
His shameful Parts are made more odious by  
Right down Corruption, which grew fertile there  
With monstrous Vermin, whose impatient fry  
Their most unpitied Prey aforehand tear;  
The leisure of his grave they scorned to stay,  
But undermine his Heart, and eat their way.   

264.  
And yet a Worm far worse than those, was got  
Thither before, which did his Conscience gnaw;  
To stisle which, long did He labour; but  
The trusty Torment still did stronger grow,  
And wound about his guilty Soul so close,  
That no Inventions power could get it lose.   

265.  
His Sinews shrunk, and all his Joints forgot  
The ready service of their wont motions.  
The Air which He had long defiled would not  
Wait on his Lungs, but frequent Suffocations  
Forced him to die as many deaths, as He  
Indebted stood for by long Tyranny.   

266.  
Oft did he call his Friends; but neither they  
Nor his Physicians durst come near his Bed:  
For his hell-breathing stink obstructs the way  
To Physic and to Friendship. Never did  
The Fiends below more loud for Pity cry,  
Nor find less comfort for their Misery.   

267.  
The dismal scene of Bethlehem-slaughter now  
Was open laid unto his burning Soul;  
The running shreiking Mothers there he saw,  
And all the Infant's Blood; which seemed to roll  
Into his Bosom in a violent stream;  
Yet not to quench, but to augment the flame.   

268.  
An hundred Furies at hot contestation  
Which first upon his bloody Heart should seize,  
With Hell's wide mouth, and the grand Preparation  
To entertain him there; at large he sees:  
And seems to hear all Ages pour a stream  
Of cursing Detestations on his Name.   

269.  
To Heaven He would not, and he could not cry,  
But let the reins lose to wild Desperation:  
And now resolved once for all to die,  
Contrives how He might his own murder fashion,  
And by his never-daunted cruelty  
Upon himself conclude his Tyranny.   

270.  
He thought of Poison: but He had no friend  
Who would that cruel Courtesy supply:  
Besides, he feared no Venom could contend  
With his extreemly-posnous Malady.  
At length by woeful Fortune, He 〈◊〉  
His Falchion hanging by his 〈◊〉 side,   

271.  
Which as He snatched, a venturous Page ran in  
And stopped the stroke: but could not stop his throat,  
Which strait He opened to an equal Sin  
And in the face of Heaven spewed out his hot  
Impatient Blasphemies; next which, He threw  
His Courses upon all the World he knew.   

272.  
Mean while, to prison, where his Son in Chains  
He kept, the false News of his death was spread:  
Which whilst Antipater gladly entertains,  
His Smiles became the price of his own head.  
Herod but heard he smiled, and now the Worms  
Had eat his Bowels, at his Son he storms.   

273.  
Yet shall that Villain know that I, said He  
Have Life and Rage enough Him to destroy.  
Now by these final Spirits which pant in me  
I swear, His Life shall answer for his Joy.  
Fetch me his Heart, that with these Vermin here  
Their fellow-trayter, I, all torn, may tear.   

274.  
Their fellow-trayter, and their Fellow-Son,  
For from my Body sprung both He and They;  
And both conspire in my destruction,  
By Gnawing they, by smiling Herald Away,  
Fetch me his Heart, that having blessed mine Eye  
With that dear sight, I may the cheerlyer die.   

275.  
Yet not content with this sole Sacrifice  
To his vast fury; he contrives a way  
How all his Nobles to his Obsequies  
No less than all their Blood and lives might pay:  
That Sighs and Tears might wait upon his Hearse,  
If not for his own Death, at least for theirs   

276.  
But Heaven prevented this fell Plot; and He  
Now having five days lived, and felt his Death,  
No Prayers, but his wont Blasphemy  
Repeated, and blew out his final breath.  
So an old Dragon when his Spirits flit,  
Breathes his last Poison, and his Life with it.   

277.  
Hell had his Soul no sooner swallowed  
But pious joseph's Angel hither came;  
And as the Saint lay on his sober Bed,  
Painted the News unto Him in his Dream:  
Bidding Him now return to Jewry, where  
The storm was over, and the Coast grown clear.   

278.  
Thus did th' Angel his own Word fulful,  
And justify the Prophet's Vision;  
For great Hosea did of old foretell  
That out of Egypt God had called his Son.  
Joseph awakes, and unto Mary shows  
The long-expected, and now welcome News.   

279.  
His thrifty Householdstuff then packing up,  
And tenderly providing for his dear  
And mighty Charge; He makes no doubt or stop,  
(A pious Breast allows no room for fear  
When e'er Heaven summons it:) but cheerly sets  
Onward his Way, before the Day permits.   

280.  
For now the Morn lay long before she rose,  
And dull Aquarius would not wake the Sun  
Till it was late. Thus did thy hardy Spouse  
In the Years most disconsolate Portion  
His journey take; and teach Thee what to do  
At any time when Heaven shall bid Thee go.   

281.  
This the nine Winter was, which sealed the Earth  
With Ice, and covered his Seal with Snow,  
Since by his own, to Wonders He gave Birth,  
Who in a Soil most like to that did grow:  
Bate but the cold and churlish Qualities,  
And what's a Virgin's Womb, but Snow and Ice?   

282.  
This Age had more enabled Him to bear  
A speedy Journey, and did much allay  
The scruples of his tender Parents Care;  
Who now with greater haste devoured their way,  
Than when to Egypt they did pick their Path;  
And thus, in peace, reached their old Nazareth.   

283.  
Their Nazareth; for sacred Prophecies  
By adamantine Bands are surely tied  
To their Effects: The Fire shall sooner freeze,  
All Metals in a Bank of Snow be tried,  
The Sun because of Night, of Drought the Rain,  
Then Falsehood any Prophet's Tongue can slain.   

284.  
Those quick-eyed Seers long ago had seen  
His Habitation there; and had foretold  
His humble Surname should be, Nazarene:  
A Name of holy Dignity of old,  
Which sat fair on all pious Heads, until  
It was out-shined by the Christian Style.   

285.  
And, Psyche, what should We do longer here!  
Come let Us follow their dear Steps, and see  
Some further marvels of thy Spouse, and where  
He prosecuted Loves sweet Mystery.  
This said: He gave his Steeds the Rains, and they  
Together with the Wind snuffed up their Way.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO IX. The Temptation.  
ARGUMENT.  

IN the dead Desert, Love; Whom savage Beasts  
Acknowledged, by eager Famine is  
Assailed, who forty Days upon Him feasts;  
To her sharp Teeth, sly Satan joineth his  
Soft Tongue; yet both their utmost Powers, set  
But open the way unto their own Defeat.   

1.  
WHat reach of Reason e'er could Fathom, why  
'Slight Dust and Ashes, vile Corruptions Son,  
The Heir apparent to the Misery  
Which lives in Death, and blends Destruction  
With all its Life, the Worms own uterine Brother,  
The Model of all Blots and Spots together,   

2.  
Should so enamour Heaven, as to obtain  
The Dignity of highest Favourite;  
And in his Maker's grace so freely reign,  
That They should service do to Him, whose bright  
Extraction no acquaintance knows with Earth,  
Nor did Pollution e'er deflower their Birth;   

3.  
Had not Almighty Love vouchsafed to take  
This lump of Clay and mould Himself in it:  
By which entire Conjunction He did make  
The total Mass of worthless Vileness fit  
To sit on Honour's Throne, and there receive  
The Service Angels blush not now to give.   

4.  
For now the heavens are well content to spare  
Part of their Choir to wait on Us below,  
Knowing their Master's Brethren sojourn here,  
Who by their very Dust that Kindred show:  
Thus is our Badge of shame advanced to be  
The stamp of our sublime Nobility.   

5.  
In love and reverence to Jesus, who  
Upon the loftiest Crest of all Creation  
Has fixed for ever our poor Nature, so  
That under her high feet, full Adoration  
Has room to kneel, their ready Service they  
Even to the meanest of his Kins-folks pay.   

6.  
How little think vain Kings, who build their Pride  
On th' armed Protection of their numerous Guard,  
The simplest of their Slaves are dignified  
With heavens illustrious Host, who watch and ward  
Their several Charges, which though scorned things  
Below, are yet above designed for Kings.   

7.  
With Arms displayed, and with open Breast  
They stand to catch Us when we falling are  
Into this hard and dangerous Life; and lest  
The Fall should hurt Us, with their softest Care  
They stir their Feathers up, that in that Bed  
Of Sweetness we may rest our infant Head,   

8.  
Alas our other Nurse's help were vain,  
So were our Mother's tenderest Care, did These  
Dear Fosterers not help them to maintain  
Their proper Parts: And though those chance to cease,  
These still pursue Love's Task; Hard Mothers may  
Forget their Sons, but that will never they.   

9  
O no: These blessed Guardians are Things  
Of tried and never-failing Tenderness;  
Such as their everlasting Snowy Wings,  
Such as the living Smiles and Joys which dress  
The Court of Heaven, Such as the dainty Air  
Which makes dear Paradise both soft and fair.   

10.  
Yet when just Cause awakes their noble Might,  
No Scythian Rock stands half so stiff as they,  
No Libyan Lion marcheth to the fight  
With higher Courage, nor afflicts his Prey  
With deeper Terror, than these Champions, who  
Into the Lists in certain Triumph go.   

11.  
Nor needless is this potent Aid; since We  
Are by spiritual Foes impugned, and  
The Powers of Darkness, and Artillery  
Of Hell against Us in pitched Battle stand;  
Whom Belzebub their General, with Spite  
And ever slaming Rage, fires to the Fight.   

12.  
What can poor Lambs against the Tiger do?  
How shall the Partridge with the Griffen fight?  
How shall a Cockboat to the Indies go  
When Tempests Rise, and make Seas stand upright?  
By Dust how shall the Serpent be withstood  
When he gapes to devour his usual Food?   

13.  
Alas the feeble Dust is helpless; but  
These Friends long since have with the Dragon fought,  
And at the first so clear a Conquest got,  
That ever since that heav'n-renowned Rout,  
Wild Lucifer is in their presence tame,  
And trembles like the burnt Child at the flame.   

14.  
He trembles; if the Boldness of our Sin  
Adds not fresh courage to his failing heart;  
For then on Us He by ourselves doth win;  
Nor can our Guardians perform their part  
With due Success, when by self-treason we  
Our forces join with Hell's conspiracy.   

15.  
When to mad Fancy Sleep doth give the rain,  
Unto polluted Dreams these stop the way,  
That no high-fed and tickling Thoughts may slain  
The clouded Soul: For, who, alas, can say  
I always am myself, and, though asleep,  
The constant Watch of Chastity can keep?   

16.  
These lend Us Aid, when any Danger near  
Our strait-beseiged Soul or Body draws;  
These intercept all Hell; These by that clear  
Lustre which flows from their own blessed Brows  
Show us the Way to Peace, and lend Us too  
Their Wings, when we are faint, and cannot go.   

17.  
These fire a Soul, and make her tower above  
These gross, yet empty things which flag below:  
These steer Us through the Miracles of Love,  
And teach Us in heavens Ocean how to row:  
These all are Brethren unto Phylax, who  
What he for Psyche did, for Us will do.   

18.  
Their way his Steeds had now recovered,  
And Palestine regained: When he aside  
Sloped his Bridle, and his Journey sped  
Into another Desert, wild and wide,  
By whose intemperate Drought old Jordan was  
Affrighted so, that he far off did pass.   

19  
As Psyche wondered at the rueful Place,  
Amongst whose desolate Nothings straight she lost  
Her questioning Eye; with a divine Embrace  
Phylax encouraged Her; and, though thou dost  
Not yet behold, said He, the Price of thy  
Long voyage, thou shalt find it by and by.   

20.  
With that, He stayed his Coach; and thus went on  
With his Discourse: O my thrice dearest Dear  
(Because most precious to my Maker's Son,  
Who is my Maker too;) this Desert here  
Is but another Scene, where thy sweet Lord  
More fuel for thy wonder did afford.   

21.  
It was reprieved from bearing other fruit,  
That it in Miracles might fertile be;  
In Miracles, whose high and glorious bruit  
Shall fill the ears of Time as long as He  
Hath legs to run; and when He drops into  
His grave, in triumph o'er his Tomb shall go.   

22.  
When thirty times thy Spouse had seen the Sun  
Change all his Inns, whose golden Signs are hung  
Upon the Zodiaks Girdle: reverend John  
Unto the World unlocked his holy Tongue,  
And drew by heavenly Summons mighty Store  
Of wondering People unto Jordan's shore.   

23.  
Thy Spouse, hid in his own Humility,  
Mixed with the Crowed and to the Baptism came.  
Thus in the Margin of the swelling Sea  
Oft times there rolls in a tumultuous stream  
Of Sand and Gravel, some rich Gem or other  
Which in that press doth its own lustre smother.   

24.  
How there He was Baptised, how a Crown  
Of heavens best beams perched on his fairer head,  
How his coaequal Spirit hovered down,  
And what Applause his Father thundered,  
I would relate, but that it hugs thy heart,  
For with this Story now thou Girded art.   

25.  
But by that nimble Doves eternal Wings  
He's hither hastened from that River's shore,  
And purity unto the Dry Land brings  
As to the Water He had done before.  
Yet nothing else he brought; nor Drink, nor Meat;  
He hither came to Fight, and not to Eat.   

26.  
He came to Fight; and bravely to revenge  
The whole World's Quarrel which subdued lay,  
E'er since through Man's unwary Heart the strange  
Bullet burst open its death-deriving way,  
Which, as it smiling hung upon the Tree,  
Fond he an harmless Apple took to be.   

27.  
He came to Fight; and soon his Foes He met  
Alarmed with Power, but much more with Rage:  
Had he been less than what he was, those great  
Antagonists had made this Place the Stage  
Of his sad Tragedy, which proved at last  
The Theatre of his triumphant Fast.   

28.  
Before I tell thee who did first appear  
In these strange Lists; observe that parched Hill.  
That Throne of Barrennefle and Squallour; there  
Against the hungry North thou see'st a Cell  
Which long hath gaped, but could never find  
Any Relief as yet, but sapless Wind.   

29.  
That Den's the Dwelling of that Champion who  
First ventured on a Combat face to face  
With God Incarnate; one as like to do  
The Feat of Spite, as any of the Race  
Of hell-begotten Fiends; yet proved to weak  
To manage what she here did undertake.   

30.  
Our Noise now calls her forth; dost thou not see  
Her goodly Ushers? those seven horned Things  
Though like to Nothing but themselves they be,  
Must go for Kine: spermatick Nile, which brings  
Forth choice of Monsters, in their birth alone  
Hath all his other Prodigies outgone.   

31.  
Nile brought them forth, and showed them to the King,  
Whom through Fates Closets a strange Dream did bring;  
Pharaoh awoke affrighted at the Thing,  
But knew not how its Characters to read,  
Nor why those sharp-set Portents which had clean  
Devoured seven fat Kine, still should grow more lean;   

32.  
Till Joseph cleared the mist, and taught him what  
By those new Hieroglyphics Destiny  
Deciphered had. But when the Beasts had got  
Malgrè those fair Banks of Fertility,  
Their seven years' Conquest; to this Cave they came  
To serve a Monster near of kin to them.   

33.  
Behold their Hair is shriveled up and dry;  
Their hides aforehand tanned, but chapped withal;  
Their sharp affrighted Bones stand staring high;  
The Relics of their flesh as low do fall;  
Their Bellies to their Backs full close are tied,  
And one does kiss the other starved side.   

34.  
All Shape is shrunk to such Deformity  
That did their horns not point them out, nor Thou,  
Nor Pharaoh could have dreamt they should be  
Descended from a Bull and honest Cow.  
And yet well-favoured Beasts are these to Her  
Their dismal Sovereign who cometh there.   

35.  
Just at the Word the Hag appeared, with Look  
More keen than Januaries breath, or than  
The edge of Razors; or the piercing stroke  
Of barbarous North-begotten Boreas, when  
He his most massy chains of Ice hath hurled  
O'er Sea and Land, and stupefied the World.   

36.  
The sudden Dint shot into Psyche's Heart  
Such deep Dread and Amazement, that it slew  
Her Spirits and Courage: But with Heavenly Art  
Her ready Guardian straight did both renew,  
And suppling her cold Breast with soft and warm  
Comforts, proceeded thus, her Soul to arm.   

37.  
Dost thou not see what makes the Fury's Train?  
Mark well, and read thine own Security,  
How heavy at her heels she draws a Chain  
Of Adamant, whose other End is by  
That hand of Providence which doth all things guide,  
Unto thy mighty Spouse's Footstool tied.   

38.  
At first herself she fiercely darted out,  
But now her kerbed Pace is tame and slow;  
She knows ' her Compass, having often fought  
In vain to break her Chain's Eternal Law.  
So; be assured she now cannot come hither  
No, she has stretched the utmost of her Tether.   

39  
Thus when the greedy Mastiff leapeth from  
His kennel, all in hungry haste and wrath,  
The sullen chain, which will not go from home,  
Checks his adventure and cuts off his Path;  
At which the wretched Cur le's fall his Ears,  
And tail, and spirit; and then he grinns and lears,   

40.  
Upon the Head of every wretched Fiend  
Sure sits this curse, that they cannot forbear  
Their spite and indignation to grind,  
And in all fury for the fight prepare  
When ever any Prey their Eyes have found;  
Although mad fools they know their feet are bound.   

41.  
Look how her Eyes are fled into her head,  
As if ashamed on herself to look;  
For in that leaf, alas, what could she read,  
But what would seem transcribed from Terror's book?  
Her skin's the Paper (o how ghastly white!)  
Where Pain and Horror their black Legends write.   

42.  
All upright staring stand her startled Hairs,  
Of one another's touch in jealous fear;  
Two close shrunk knots of Gristles are her Ears;  
Her forehead nothing but its skin doth wear;  
Her keeness fully is displayed in  
Her pinched Nose, and her sharp-pointed Chin.   

43.  
Like a deep Pit of Chalk is either Cheek;  
Her sapless Lips are parched and shriveled up,  
Showing her Ivory Teeth, all white and sleek,  
But long and hideous; These stand always open  
That her dire Tongue may ever dangle out  
To catch the Rain, and quench its burning Drought.   

44.  
Her starved and clung-up Neck, has much ado  
To bear the slender burden of her head;  
The Stalk quite famished and withered, so  
Under its nodding flower doth bend. Instead  
Of Arms, She shows two Yards of Skin and Bone,  
Oppressed and tired with their own Weight alone.   

45.  
Her fleshless Hands like feet of Vultures seem,  
Nor are her nails so lately pruned, But they  
May pass for Talons: what she grasps in them  
Is sentenced by that Touch to be her Prey.  
Her Legs are two dry crazy stakes; her Feet  
Already mouldering, their Grave do meet.   

46.  
That fatal bunch of Corn which fills her Hand.  
(O no! which makes Vacuity be there.)  
Are those seven Ears which upon Nilus' strand  
To Pharaoh with those Oxen did appear;  
And now becomes her Rod, for on it grows  
No Grain, nor any other fruit, but Blows.   

47.  
Was ever such Contraction seen, as there,  
About a Waste, whose Girdle Thinness is?  
The straitlaced Infects slender Brood did ne'er  
Shrink up themselves into a scanter Dress.  
Her Bellie's sunk and gone; and she could spare  
It well, who nothing had to lay up there.   

48.  
See'st thou her Shoulders and her Thighs all gnawn?  
Imagine not that any Beast but she  
Herself was guilty of the Fact: her own  
Keen Tusks have graved those lines of Cruelty,  
And, when she wanted other Cates to eat,  
Did prick her on to make herself her Meat.   

49.  
Little it was she from herself could tear;  
But yet where Nothing else was to be had,  
That Little seemed full and dainty Cheer,  
And to she fell: But as she began to feed,  
Her Banquet failed between her Teeth, and she  
In stead of Flesh, chewed mere Vacuity.   

50.  
This raised that Storm which in her bosom reigns,  
And, couldst thou hear, it would amaze thine ear.  
Her Stomach roars, and tears, and pricks, and strains,  
And all its Misery objects to Her:  
So do her Bowels, bound in their own Chains,  
And tied, and twisted up in Knots of Pains.   

51.  
Three Fiends of choicest Power and spite there are  
Whom Vengeance doth employ to lash the Earth;  
The hidden Pestilence; wide open War;  
And Famine, this fell Hag, whose Drought and Dearth  
Burn with more Poison than the Plague, & wound  
With sharper engines than in War are found.   

52.  
This is that living Death, by which poor Man  
Is forced himself his funeral to begin,  
Whilst wand'ring up and down all faint and wan,  
Wrapped in the winding sheet of his pale skin,  
He seeks his grave, that through that door He may  
Unto a milder Death himself convey.   

53.  
This is that Tyrant, whose Impatience hath  
No Possibility her Prey to spare;  
The foul Inneritrix of the Dregs of Wrath,  
Of Torments Queen, the Empress of Dispair;  
An aonigmatick Foe, whose Ammunition  
Is nothing else but Want of all Provision.   

54.  
Expect not to behold her Family,  
Or what Retinue on her Court attends;  
No servant ever yet so strong could be  
To bear her Presence, much less her Commands;  
Being assured They never could her Will  
Unless her Belly to they did, fulfil.   

55.  
But yonder Table which is fixed high  
Above her Caverns Door, will tell thee what  
Were her Exploits. When Mercy passed by  
This monitory Sign she set up, that  
Poor Mortals might descry what Fiend dwelled here  
And not unto this Den of Death come near.   

56.  
Lo, what a smoking Hurliburlie's there  
Of gallant Ruins tumbling on the ground:  
These once high-built and goodly Cities were,  
Which when War's mighty Ram could not confound  
This Hag did with no Engine, but her own  
Teeth, undermine the Walls and tear them down.   

57  
See there she chaseth frogs, and Rats, and mice,  
And other Vermin near as vile as she  
Herself; by them desiring to suffice  
The lowed Demands of her stout Boulimie.  
Discreetly there the prudent Painter has  
The Earth of Iron made, the Heaven of Brass,   

58.  
But there her Girdle and her shoes she eats  
For that acquaintance which they had of old  
With Beef and Mutton, and such classic Meats:  
There She turns out the wretched useless Gold,  
And clapping on its Poverty a Curse,  
A savoury Meal she maketh of her Purse.   

59  
There She awakes the sleeping Mire, and by  
A strict examination makes it tell  
What hidden Treasures in its bosom lie;  
Nor is she daunted by th' unlikely shell,  
But breaks it open, and finds the Gem within:  
For she the Oyster first fished out for Men.   

60.  
The Dunghill there she rakes, to find some fresh  
Strong-sented Excrement; and joys when she  
Can by long search achieve so rare a Dish,  
Which needs, being ready hot, no Cookery.  
That Glass in which she drinks, and drinks up all.  
No other is but her own Urinal.   

61.  
Against that huge stone-wall her Teeth she tried  
When once she was immured in straits; and see  
How she compelled and tore Success: those wide  
And ragged Holes, her stout Teeth breaches be.  
Her hasty boisterous Stomach would not stay,  
And wanting other Food, she eat her Way.   

62.  
That Heap of Bones is all that she has left  
Of her own Parents, whose old flesh she made  
Her barbarous Feast, and them of life bereft  
By whom she lived; Such is the savage trade  
Of desperate Vipers, whose unnatural Wrath  
Devours the Womb which them conceived hath.   

63.  
And yet no Vipers venture to devour  
Their proper Brood: 'tis Nature's strictest Law  
That with Traduction Love should join her power,  
And like the Rivers, downhill strongest flow:  
Only this fiend all Vipers doth outvie,  
And feeds herself with her own Progeny.   

64.  
For those bemangled Limbs which scattered be  
About the Picture, the said Ruins are  
Of seven sweet, but unhappy Babes, which she  
Feared not with her own Claws and Teeth to tear,  
And back into her Bowels make them go;  
If yet she any had who thus could do.   

65.  
This strange Epitome of Prodigies,  
This despicable, starved, but potent Fiend  
Was the first Combatant which did arise  
Against thy Spouse; yet durst not try to rend  
And tear his Body, but contrived to slay  
It, and his Soul in a mysterious Way.   

66.  
For though that Dread which in her face did reign,  
Such deep affrightment round about had shed,  
That not the boldest Beast of all the Plain  
But from those direful Emanations fled;  
Leaving the Desert more than doubled; where  
Was nothing now but Earth, and Stones, and Air:   

67.  
Yet now discovering One who seems prepared  
To entertain the worst of Dangers, she  
Grew jealous of the Champion, and feared  
Some wisely Stratagem might plotted be  
Against her right-down force: This did incline  
Her to 〈◊〉 Him by a Contremine.   

68  
For, slily waiting oppotunity,  
And being thin and subtle, with the Wind  
She mixed herself, and in his face did fly;  
Hoping to steal upon him by a blind  
And unperceived assault. So Cowards fight,  
Trusting advantage more than their own Might.   

69.  
But He who all her project clearly saw,  
From her abstruse Career disdained to start:  
He welcomed with brave Constancy the Blow,  
Giving the Fury leave to use her Art;  
Free leave He gave her her foul self to shoot  
Into his Stomach, through his yielding Throat.   

70.  
So when the Tempest marches in full Tide  
Against its Caverns Mouth, the fearless Rock  
Makes good its ground, and never steps aside  
To wave the peril of the violent Shock,  
But lets the Storm come in and roar its fill  
In all the Bowels of its resolute Cell.   

71.  
She entered thus, falls to her work apace  
And seizeth with immediate Usurpation  
All the Reserve of Humours which that Place  
Was strengthened with, in case of some Mutation;  
And these she conquered without any stop,  
For as she met them, straight she eat them up.   

72.  
The rob Stomach thus made clear and free  
Of all things but the Thief; She broacheth there  
The Art of all that gnawing Cruelty  
With which her pined Self she used to tear:  
No Fire, Worm, Vinaiger, or Venom is  
So corrosive as her fretful Bitterness.   

73.  
As when incensed by the furious flame  
The Fornace'gins to rage; if you deny  
The Cauldron Liquor which may help to tame  
The insolent Heats excess, and mollify  
Its rampant greedy Thirst; alas, the poor  
Copper itself does boil, and burn, and roar.   

74.  
So fares it with the Entrails, where the fire  
Which Nature kindled, if it wants its fuel  
On what comes next to hand will spend its Ire,  
And grow against the Stomaches substance cruel;  
For all its Life consists in constant Meat,  
And when it dies, it does but cease to Eat.   

75.  
And yet with Adamantine bravery  
Thy Spouse against this Conspiracy of Pains  
His Patience arms; and though his Breast did fry  
In mutinous flames, He valiantly refrains  
From all Complaints, and sighs and signs that he  
Oppressed was by Hunger's Tyranny.   

76.  
He by a medicinal Fast resolved was  
To cure the eating of that fatal Tree,  
From whence the Curse and Death entailed did pass  
On Ev's and Adam's, wretched Progeny.  
He freely what he might Receive, refused,  
Because, what they Forbidden were, they used.   

77.  
(Thus must the Water wash away the Flame,  
Thus must the Bands of Cold bind up the Heat,  
Thus sober Weight must idle Lightness tame,  
Thus wholesome Sour must mend luxurious Sweet,  
Thus honest Day must chase out thievish Night,  
Thus Contraries with Contraries must fight.)   

78.  
And by his venerable Practice He  
Has Consecrated, and advanced this  
Despised Thing to such an high degree  
Of real honour, that now Fasting is  
The Dainties of the Saints, to which they can  
Invite their Hearts, and Feast the Inner Man.   

79.  
Where whilst they at their mystic Banquet sit,  
The saucy Flesh learns to be meek and mild,  
The boiling Blood grows cool, and every fit  
Of wilful Lust forgetteth to be wild,  
The Passions unto Reason crouching stand,  
The Brain grows clear, and all its Clouds disband.   

80.  
Thus from that Slavery they redeemed are  
Whose knots their Teeth had tied; thus they throw  
Away their clogs; thus on free wings they rear  
Themselves into Themselves; being moved now  
By heavens brisk Fire which in their Bosoms flows,  
And not by that which in the Kitchen glows.   

81.  
Nor does the Body only bear the Pain,  
Whilst all the Pleasure to the Soul accrues;  
But in its kind reap full as sweet a Gain,  
Whilst its intirest Vigour it renews,  
And fresh and lively Feathers quit the cost  
Of all those rotten moulting Plumes it lost,   

82.  
For when high-fed Distempers sneak away,  
And the dark Seed of all Infirmities  
Which in the Body's furrows nestling lay,  
Before its own Birth, unperceived dies;  
Fasting the Physic gave: yet generous she  
(O cheap Physician!) never takes a Fee.   

83.  
She Nothing takes; and would have Men do so,  
For all her Recipes ere only this:  
She turns the Deep Complaint of bitterest Woe,  
Into an high-strained Dialect of Bliss,  
And for this Reason bids the Sick be sure  
They ease shall find, 'cause Nothing them can cure.   

84.  
O sovereign Nothing! upon which, so deep  
In love He fell with it, thy Spouse did feed  
Full forty Days and Nights: soft-creeping sleep  
Perhaps might venture on his eyes, but did  
Not once presume to touch, much less to fight  
Against, the Paradox of his Appetite.   

85.  
The Fury did her best his strength to tyre,  
But fretted, gnawed, and laboured in vain.  
Hast thou not heard how Moses, all on fire  
With brave Devotion, did of old sustain  
As many Nights and Days on Sina's head,  
A Stranger all the while to Drink and Bread?   

86.  
If by access to God a Man could grow  
So much above the temper of a Creature;  
If by attendance on the Moral Law  
He clearly could forget the Law of Nature,  
What then might Jesus do, to whose fair face  
Mose's though decked with beams, but dusky was!   

87.  
What might He do, who did not only draw  
Near unto God, but who Himself was He!  
'Twas but an Angel that pronounced the Law,  
Though in the Name of the great Deity:  
But Jesus was no Proxy; he alone  
Undoubtedly was God and Man in one.   

88  
He who to Salamander's power did give  
Safely to scorn the siege of any Flame,  
And in the Fornace's red bosom live,  
Making the hostile Fire their food become;  
Might well the burning Drought of Thirst subdue,  
And turn its flames into refreshing Dew.   

89.  
He to whose bounty all Chamaelions' owe  
Their virgin privilege, whereby they may  
Contemn all gross unwieldy Meats, and grow  
Fat upon sapless Air; can find a way  
As pure a Diet for himself to get,  
And force the Winds to blow him in his Meat.   

90.  
Nay, seeing Bread itself is dull and dead,  
And no assistance can to Life afford,  
Unless itself be fortified and fed  
By the prime Power of God's almighty Word;  
He well can spare its help, yet want no food,  
Who is Himself th' essential Word of God.   

91.  
Witness his Might: for from his Potent Heart  
An Intimation of his Royal Will  
He on the Gnawing Fury now did dart,  
Commanding her not to disturb him, till  
He gave her leave; for business had He  
With other Beasts of better worth than She.   

92.  
Soon did the Hag perceive how she had thrown  
Her heedless self into a conquering Net,  
Where her Fell Teeth and Nails were not her own,  
But His, whom she had thought to make her Meat.  
Wherefore against herself she madly bend  
Her spite, and her own Hair, and Heartstrings rend.   

93.  
But safe and unmolested He went on  
To seek those Beasts which from the dreadful Cave  
Of this intolerable Fiend had run  
To shroud their trembling heads: For he doth save  
Not Man alone, but also Beast, and is  
Willing to follow both, and make both His.   

94.  
Oxen and Asses he at length descried,  
Which all one way in a straight Drove did pass.  
He soon remembered what did him betid  
When in their House he entertained was,  
How Bethlehem Stable with the Hay and Manger  
Received the newborn Men-rejected Stranger.   

95.  
A Flock of Sheep went bleating after Them,  
Whose little Ones made Him reflect again  
Upon himself, God's everlasting Lamb,  
Born, in proud Salems' shambles to be slain.  
He blessed them all, and promised them that they  
Should needs be destitute of Grass or Hay.   

96.  
Along with them unto a Pond He came,  
The only Water which that Desert knows;  
If yet that Pond defile not Waters name,  
Which only with deep muddy Poison flows.  
The banks were thronged with wild Beasts, which lay  
Panting, and gasping, and forgot their Prey.   

97.  
For parching Thirst had now dried up their Ite,  
And fight with their Prey would but increase  
The too prevailing fury of their fire,  
Which only Waters influence might appease.  
Yet though their Tongues lay frying on the  
They durst not dip them in the Pond to drink.   

98.  
For yet the long expected Unicorn  
Delayed his Coming; He who used by  
The piercing Antidote of his fair Horn  
To broach the wholesome Waters which did lie  
Imprisoned in the Poisons Power, and then  
An Health unto his Fellow-beasts begin.   

99  
Not was't by chance He tardy came that Day,  
The only Day in which he could be spared;  
For now Salvations Horn, in whom there lay  
That Sovereign Virtue which far more was feared  
By every Poison, than what breaketh from  
The potent Unicorns; was thither come.   

100  
Great was the Congregation; for there  
The princely Lion was, the angry Dog,  
The Mountainous Elephant, the shaggy Bear,  
The hasty Wolf, the foaming Boar, the Hog,  
His grumbling Wife, the roaring frowning Bull,  
The Porcupine of ammunition full.   

101.  
The spotted Panther, stiff Rhinocerot,  
Swift-footed Tiger; and a thousand more.  
For all wild Beasts whom Thirst could drive, had got  
Their several places ready on the shore;  
Crowding as stoutly Water now to get,  
As they to Noah thronged to scape from it.   

102.  
But when thine unexpected Spouse drew near,  
With reverend amazement every Beast  
Looked up, and in a deep but harmless Fear  
Let fall their heads again, and so confessed  
Who they beheld, and how unworthy They  
Were to drink in his blessed Aspects Ray.   

103.  
Yet that mere Glance did such Refreshment dart,  
That all the Forces of their Thirst it slew.  
So when unto a long afflicted Heart  
Joy her immediate Countenance doth show,  
The blessed Glimpse frights gloomy Grief away,  
And thrusting out black Night, le's in fair Day.   

104.  
These Beasts were Heirs to them, who, when as yet  
Time and the World were young, in Paradise  
At Gods own summoning together met  
To pay their Homage in all humble guise  
To princely Adam who sat mounted high  
Upon his Throne of native Monarchy.   

105.  
Well did they mark their Sovereign's Eyes and face.  
And all his Persons lovely Majesty,  
Which flowed forth on them with such potent Grace,  
That they durst not Allegiance deny,  
But conquered with sweet Violence, to his beck  
Bowed down, and took his soft Yoke on their Neck.   

106.  
But when unhappy Adam's Fall had spread  
Guilts ugly Veil upon his beauteous Face,  
The Beasts which met Him, gazed, and would have read  
Their former Lesson of Majestic Grace;  
But all was blotted out, and looked so black,  
That them of Subjects it did Enemies make.   

107.  
Their Sons and Generations after them  
Succeeded in their Hate to Humane Sin:  
These present Beasts which to the Water came,  
Had in that Quarrel born and nurtured been;  
And whensoever they chanced to meet a Man,  
To Him as their condemned Prey they ran.   

108.  
But when on JESUS face they tried their Eyes,  
No blurr or sign of Gild they could descry:  
His Looks were purer than the Virgin Skies,  
Polished with beauteous Serenity,  
Arrayed with Princely stateliness, and dight  
With Love, with Life, with Grace, and with Delight   

109.  
This waked the seeds of that deep Memory  
Which prudent Nature in their Hearts had set;  
And which by wise instinct did signify;  
That their unspotted Monarch they had met.  
They had indeed: for this was Adam too;  
Alas, that Men less than the Beasts should know!   

110.  
Men knew Him not, but Beasts did plainly read  
In Him the Protoplasts all graceful feature;  
Such were the gallant Beauties of his Head,  
Such was the princely measure of his Stature,  
Such was the reverend Innocence which from  
His lovely Eyes in Streams of Light did come   

111.  
Such secret A wfuiness Men fancy in  
Th'apparent Heir of any Kingdom; that  
They think the King of Beasts, by royal kin  
To his Condition, groweth courteous at  
His Sight, and quite forgets his insolent sense  
Of being Salvagenesses dreadful Prince.   

112.  
No wonder then, if thus it fared now  
The mighty Heir of Heaven and Earth was here;  
He for whose high and bestdeserving Brow  
Eternity was busied to prepare  
That Heav'n-out-shining Crown which flaming is  
Upon his Incarnations Lowliness.   

113.  
The princely Lion raised himself; but in  
Less state than He before had used to do,  
His never-daunted Tail till now, between  
His legs he humbled, and did trembling go,  
Confessing to the Beasts that made his Train,  
That He was not their only Sovereign.   

114.  
When near He came, he couched to the ground,  
And with ingenuous Devotion  
Kissed JESU'S feet; rejoicing he had found  
Judas majestic Lion, who alone  
Had in his Noble Looks fair writ the Name  
Of Emperor of this created frame.   

115.  
By his devout Example all the rest  
Their now engaged Duty learned, and did  
What He had done: In order every Beast  
In a meek kiss his Service offered;  
And then they all before Him prostrate lay,  
Humbly expecting what their Lord would say.   

116.  
He in a mystic Dialect, which they  
Well understood, his royal Pleasure spoke:  
For in that Language He at first did lay  
His charge upon their Necks, which they did take  
With due obeisance, and thenceforth rulfill  
In all their natural Functions his high Will.   

117.  
Nay, not those Animals alone; but Trees,  
Shrubbs, Plants, and Flours, and whatsoever grows,  
The Earth, the Air, the Fire, the boisterous Seas,  
The Winds, the Rains, the Hails, the Frosts, the Snows,  
The Rocks, the Lightning and the Thunder, Hell,  
And Heaven, and all Things ken his Language well.   

118.  
For being that Eternal Word, to whom  
What ever Is, doth owe itself, He knows  
In what intelligible way to come  
Unto his Creatures, and pronounce his Laws,  
A Word of boundless Bounds and Potency.  
May a 〈◊〉 Dialect to All Things be.   

119.  
To All things? Yea and more than so, for He  
On empty Nothing his Commands can lay,  
A 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 even in 〈◊〉 seeds they be  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 things He 〈◊〉; nor dare they  
Plead ignorance of what he says, but by  
Instant existence to his Call reply.   

120.  
What 'twas he spoke, they only understood,  
Yet if Conjecture may presume of leave,  
He charged them to abate their Thirst of Blood,  
And for his sake, at least, thenceforth reprieve  
Those Men whose Crimes were yet not swelled so high  
As to confront and force the patient Sky.   

121.  
For now He came to open a gentler age  
Unto the World than heretofore had run;  
To banish Salvageness, and Spite, and Rage,  
And to establish endless Peace's Throne:  
He came dejected Man to reinvest  
In his Dominion over every Beast.   

122.  
And to encourage their obedience, He  
Told them their panting Expectation, and  
Their longing Groans should satisfied be,  
That He himself would hast to break the Bond  
In which Corruption kept them slaves, and them  
With heavens dear Heirs, to Liberty redeem.   

123.  
This done: His sacred Hand He lifted up,  
And round about on his Devoto's dealt  
His bounteous blessing. Straight they began to Hop,  
And Dance and Play, when in their Hearts they felt  
The vigorous joyful influence which from  
The blessed Fountain of his Hand did come.   

124.  
Then with the fairest Manners that they had,  
Shaking their Tails and louting low their Heads  
They took respectful leave; all being glad  
To find their Breasts new sown with gentle seeds,  
And that their King which now commanded them  
Appeared not more a Lion than a Lamb.   

125.  
But He now left alone, made noble use  
Of this his private Opportunity  
What better place could deep Devotion choose  
Where she with freedom through all Heaven may fly?  
What is the Desert but an Harbour which  
No Storms of the tumultuous World can reach?   

126.  
Besides; his active Soul now lightened by  
His Fast, and fairly poised on sprightful Wings,  
Was well appointed to tower up, and try  
The Altitude of heavens sublimest things.  
Not that He needed this advantage, but  
Vouchsafed this Copy unto Man to set.   

127.  
As when more Fuell's heaped upon the Hearth  
Then well the Chimneys stomach can digest;  
The Flames disdain their wont bounds, and forth  
They rush about the Room, which now oppressed  
With bright and dark billows of fire and Smoke,  
In that dry sea's prodigious storm doth choke.   

128.  
So when intemperate Man ingesteth more  
Than corresponds with his Capacity;  
With Flames and Vapours that superfluous Store  
Riots about his Heart and Head; but He  
Who feeds but light, or fasts; keeps his soul's sphere  
Free and unclouded; as did Jesus here.   

129.  
Through that unfadomable Treasury  
Of Thoughts, and Counsels, and Degrees, which is  
Built in the Palace of Eternity,  
And safely locked up with three massy Keys,  
Whereof himself by proper right keeps one,  
With intellectual lightness He did run.   

130.  
There did he, to his Humane soul unveil  
The flaming Wonders of Divinity;  
A Sea through which no Angel's eyes could sail,  
So vast, so high, so deep those Secrets be.  
(God's nearest Friend, the Soul of Jesus is,  
Whom He admits to all his Privacies.)   

131.  
There, by the hand of Goodness did he see  
An adamantine Table fairly writ  
With all his Incarnations Mystery,  
The Reasons, Wonders, and the ways of it.  
There did he run his Contemplation from  
His scorned Cradle to his guarded Tomb.   

132.  
His Soul rejoiced all the way it ran,  
And taught his Fast to be a glorious Feast:  
Each Grief, each Pain, each Suffering he did scan,  
And what the deepest was he liked best:  
Not for a World would he have wanted one,  
But could have wished a bitterer Passion.   

133.  
Thus did he spend his Day: and when the Night  
Upon heavens face her sable Mantle spread,  
He other Work began; No leaden Weight  
Of Sleep could heavy sit upon his Head:  
His Fast now grew so strong, that no dull Cloud  
Out of his Stomach to his Brain could crowd.   

134.  
Those silent Hours He spent in ardent Prayers,  
His Evening and burnt Sacrifice; and by  
The quick ascent of those mysterious stairs  
Climbed back again to heavens sublimity;  
Where more Ejaculations He did spread  
Than Angels, or than Stars, are marshelled.   

135.  
There did he pray, the World might not disdain  
The gentle Yoke he came on it to lay;  
Nor force Heaven to come down to Earth in vain,  
But unto its obtruded Bliss give way;  
That now God stooped down to Humanity,  
Man would endeavour like his God to be.   

136.  
And now no less than forty times the Sun  
The Giant of the Day, had from the East  
Pricked forth his golden trapped Steeds, and run  
His never wearied Race into the West;  
And watchful Vesper had as often light  
The silver Tapers, and trimmed up the Night.   

137.  
When thy Wise Spouse, who all the seasons knew  
Of heavens mysterious Dispensations, gave  
The bridled Monster leave on him to show  
Her Teeth full power: And how profound and brave  
This Counsel was, thou by and by shalt see,  
For He has me enjoined to teach it thee.   

138.  
As when the ravenous Dog who long has lain  
Muzzled up in the presence of his meat,  
Begins to feel the loosning of his Chain,  
For all the time He lost he strives to eat,  
Flying like Lightning on his Breakfast, which  
He with his teeth and paws at once doth catch:   

139.  
So Famine now released to her own Will,  
Revenged her Restraint, with greedy spite;  
And had it but been possible to kill  
Life's unconsenting Lord she had done it straight,  
For never with such fell remorfelesnesse  
She raged in any Breast, as now in His.   

140.  
His empty Stomach roared, his Bowels clung,  
The heavenly Graces of his Countenance fell,  
Thirst parched his beauteous Lips & burned his Tongue;  
But all by his divine Consent; for well  
He knew, that if he grew not faint and wan,  
Hell needs must take Him to be more than Man,   

141.  
Hell's jealous Prince knew all the Prophecies  
Which pointed out a greater King than he;  
A King which was from Jesse's Root to rise,  
And promised, to quell his Tyranny.  
Upon his Guard He stood, and watched to see  
The dangerous time, and who that Man should be.   

142.  
The Angel's Song which warbled to the Earth  
Peace and Good Will, shot Terror through his Heart;  
The Shepherds story of the Infant's Birth  
No sooner struck his ear but made him start,  
He Simeons' Jubilation echoed by  
A Groan, and Anna's Preaching by a Sigh.   

143.  
With deep mis-giving Thoughts he chewed upon  
The Benedictus of old Zachary;  
The eastern Star which unto Bethlehem ran  
Did with amazement blind his fearful eye;  
Guilty Suspicion his black soul did knaw  
When He the Wise men's Adoration saw.   

144.  
At length these fatal Items roused Him  
To take some course this Danger to repress.  
Forthwith he chose the Falchion of grim  
Herod; nor did He think He struck amiss.  
Besides, now Thirty years could not discover  
Any great fear, he hoped the worst was over.   

145.  
And much it cheered him to remember that  
Messias was to be a Virgin's Son;  
As for thy Lord, He termed him joseph's Brat,  
The silly Carpenters poor Urcheon;  
Who likelier was some simple House to build,  
Than raise a Kingdom, and a Sceptre wield.   

146.  
Yea to that fond and shameless Boldness He  
Hardened his Thoughts, as to imagine that  
Great daniel's heaven inspired Prophecy  
Was proved abortive; and He cared not what  
The other Prophets talked, now he who set  
Messiah's Time, so foully failed in it.   

147.  
But when on Jordan's Bank he heard and saw  
The Testimony Heaven gave of its Son;  
His sturdy Confidence began to thaw,  
And Teiror through his cursed Bones to run.  
Some time it was e'er he could recollect  
Himself, and study how his part to act.   

148.  
At length He hither traced Him, and set  
That Fury Famine to begin the fight.  
O with what anguish did he vex and fret  
To see the vain contention of her spite  
For forty days together! But at length  
When she prevailed, His Pride renewed its strength.   

149.  
On Chance's vain Account he scored it up  
That Jesus had sustained the fight till now;  
As he had done, when from their Pillars top  
Egyptian Idols lately down did bow,  
Because since then he saw some new Ones able  
To stand, and Memphis once more Isi's Stable.   

150.  
And now his Cue was come, to Hell he stepped,  
And opened a Casket which by his Bed's side  
(For 'twas the dearest Thing he had,) he kepped:  
There lay ten thousand acquaint Delusions tied  
All one within another; never Art  
More cunningly than here did play her part.   

151.  
There lay smooth burnished Words, & quick Mutations,  
Sleight-handed Tricks, 〈◊〉 Courtesies,  
Sweet Looks, delicious Shapes, and dainty Fashions,  
False Loves, envenomed fawn, holy Lies:  
There lay the Crafts by which he did deceive  
The credulous Heart of thy Grandmother Eve.   

152.  
And those by which He holy Aaron made  
More silly than the Calf that he erected;  
Those which unconquered Samsons strength betrayed;  
Those which the fort of Chastity dejected  
In David's heart; and those whose witchery  
Charmed his wise Son to fond Idolatry.   

153.  
This also was the cursed Nest of those  
More wiley Wiles by which he did entice  
The brave Inhabitants of Heaven to close  
With his Conspiracy, when in the skies  
He drew his Army up, and ventured on  
Against the Thunder's Mouth, and Gods own Son.   

154.  
And these he takes, and squeezeth into one  
Conflux of more than quintessential Guiles;  
With which insidious Extraction  
His thirst he quenches, and his breast he fills,  
And so returns into this Desert, well  
Stuffed with the best, that is, the worst, of Hell.   

155.  
Imperial was his Retinue, for  
A thousand gallant Peers of Phlegeton  
Had robbed Aire, Earth, and Sea, of their best store  
Of braveries, and proudly put them on;  
All which where echoed by the rich attires  
Both of their haughty Horses and their Squires.   

156.  
But as the Cedar upon Libans head  
Dishonours all the Shrubs that creep below;  
As the displayed Peacock's Train doth spread  
Disgrace upon the Sparrow or the Crow:  
So far Majestic Satan's port transcended  
What ever in his Lords might be commended.   

157.  
Twelve sable Steeds, smug as the old Rav'ns' wing  
Of even stature and of equal Pride,  
Sons of the Wind, or some such speedy thing,  
Unto the Chariot all abreast were tied:  
So Princes used to range their Steeds, that all  
Their several Beauties in full view might fall.   

158.  
Perpetual sparks of vigorousness they shot  
From the two Founts of their prospective fire;  
Their mighty Neighing easy Conquest got  
Of every Noise, and made good Mars his Choir:  
And thus through Clouds, almost as black as they,  
Thunder and Lightning use to choose! their way.   

159.  
As ebon shining Boughs, so bended were  
Their sinewy Necks; their Stomaches boiled over  
In restless foaming Scum, which far and near  
They flung about; their Pawing did discover  
With what disdain upon the Earth thy trod,  
And seemed to covet an etherial Road.   

160.  
Their shoes were silver, and their bridles gold;  
With perl their velvet trappings studded were;  
Their copious Manes in curled volumes rolled  
Down to the ground; their starting Ears did wear  
Proserpina's Favours with rich Jewels tipped;  
The way their full Tails for their Sovereign swept.   

161.  
The wheels were Cedar clouted round about  
With Golds more pretous Rival, Chrysolite:  
The Chariot Almug, covered throughout  
With an embroidered Confluence of bright  
Well ordered Gems: upon which princely seat  
Prouder than it, sat Belzebub the Great.   

162.  
What Pomp in Alexander's face did reign,  
Or swelled upon Nebuchadnezars Brow;  
He had advanced to an higher strain,  
And taught it in his own Aspect to grow,  
Having compounded in one stately Lie  
The universal Looks of Majesty.   

163.  
Disdain and Pride the chief Ingredients were,  
And long ago He learned to manage Them:  
Yet Grace and royal Mildness too were there,  
If need should be some soft Deceit to frame.  
With awful Gravity his Beard did flow,  
And him some wise and ancient Monarch show,   

164.  
A triple Crown of Diamond on his Head,  
Wherein was graven Earth, and Air, and Seas,  
His Empire's Provinces deciphered:  
For so his own Presumption doth please  
To make Man's Right his Prey, and write his stile,  
E'er since of Paradise he did him beguile.   

165.  
Down from his shoulders to his feet did flow  
A Mantle of Estate with Ermyns lined.  
But for the Texture, it so thick did grow  
With oriental Gems, you could not find  
What Web it was, it being clearly lost  
In the magnificence of too much Cost.   

166.  
Three Troops of Pages on his Wheels did wait,  
The first in Azure, and the next in Green,  
The third in darkest Purple: the Conceit  
Was only what upon his Crown was seen.  
His dreadful Guard (ten thousand Curassiers)  
Before Him trots, and all his Passage clears.   

167.  
Of Sumptures and of Wagons a vast Sea  
Flowed part before, their Prince, and part behind:  
It seemed the I ransmigration to be  
Of all the Earth at once; now bend to find  
Some other World, whose larger Bounds might give  
Leave to those straitened Swarms at large to live.   

168.  
In this magnific State his progress He  
Through his usurped World did pretend to take:  
A well known Circuit, where incessantly  
Some hellish business He himself did make:  
Only He now a fiercer Lion was,  
Than when He roaring up and down did pass,   

169.  
For though that roaring Voice loud Terror spoke,  
Withal it gave Men warning to beware:  
But when he with Majestic Grace doth cloak  
His thievish Enterprise; He charmeth Fear  
Asleep; for who would Dream, a King in so  
Great Pomp, a stealing would, and cheating, go!   

170.  
See'st Thou that rueful Place, that Garden where  
Eternal Barrenness deeprooted grows;  
Where unrelenting Flints and Pebbles are  
Both Soil and fruit? That Scene thy Lord did choose  
Wherein to wrestle with keen Famine, and  
Give her free leave on her own ground to stand.   

171.  
And hither came great Satan with his Train:  
Where finding Jesus, in whose fallen Cheeks  
Hunger's deep Characters were written plain;  
With seeming Princely Pity off he breaks  
His course, the Steeds in foaming Scorn to stay,  
Their Bridles champed and stamped upon their way   

172.  
But He more gentle seemed, than They were wroth,  
For when he on thy Lord had fixed his eyes,  
Three times upon his Breast He beat with both  
His hands, his Head he sadly shaked thrice,  
And then as oft to Heaven he looked up,  
And cunning Tears He every time did drop.   

173.  
He hoped the pined Man would bend his Knee,  
And from his pitying Hand some Succour crave  
Whilst yet he could receive: He looked that He  
Would open his Mouth, as well as did his Grave.  
But He was yet to stout to buckle down;  
He nobly held his Tongue, and held his own.   

174.  
With that, the royal Tempter thus began:  
My Pity never was till now neglected  
By any He that wore the face of Man;  
Much less by such whom Famine had dejected  
Almost below all Humane Looks. And yet  
Perhaps some Mystery may be in it.   

175.  
That thou with Patience canst endure to be  
The miserable Prey of Famine, and  
Forbear (if not disdain) to ask of Me,  
Who with all courteous Succour ready stand;  
Implies thy strength, what e'er thy Face appear,  
Higher to move than in an humane Sphere.   

176.  
Where e'er she had it, Rumour sent of late  
A strange Relation to my ear, which she  
Professed she took both from the Leaves of Fate,  
And, from experimental Verity:  
'Twas that the Son of God had changed his Home,  
And here to sojourn on the Earth was come.   

177.  
She added that his Garb was plain and mean  
Because He was a stranger here below,  
And rather came to see than to be seen,  
As wisest Travellers are wont to do.  
But more she told Me not; perhaps that I  
And my good Fortune might the rest descry.   

178.  
For deep my Honour it concerns, and Me,  
That ready Entertainment should attend  
Such mighty strangers: And if thou be He  
Take notice Thou hast met a Royal Friend,  
A Friend both able and resolved to prove  
That thou all Glory hast not left above.   

179.  
But yet these Deep-plowd Wrinkles ill would suit  
My solemn Forehead, and this reverend Snow  
My Head and Beard, if Rashness should confute  
Those sage and sober Tokens, if I now  
Who long ago have purchased the esteem  
Of Grave, and Wise, should Light and Credulous seem.   

180.  
Then since my Credit calls upon me for  
Some certain Proof, You must not that deny:  
'Tis reason you assure Me who you are,  
Not can Assurance sealed be, but by  
Some potent Demonstration, which may show  
That Nature, and her Rules can bow to You.   

181.  
If you be He whom God doth own for Son,  
(And God forbid you such a Truth should hide.)  
Let it suffice your Fast thus far hath run,  
And now a Breakfast for yourself Provide.  
Lo here a Board with Pebbles ready spread,  
Speak but the Word, & make them Loaves of Bread.   

182.  
The Tempter so. But Jesus wisely saw  
How He suspended was in jealous Doubts,  
And by this Artifice contrived how  
To extricate his snarled perplexed Thoughts;  
He therefore means, by heavenly Art, to cast  
Upon his hellish Craft a darker Mist.   

183.  
For as a noble Champion when the Blow  
Hasteneth with deadly aim unto his Heart,  
With wary Buckler back again doth throw  
The intercepted and deceived dart:  
So did thy Spouse by God's unconquered Word  
His ready Shield against the Tempter's Sword.   

184.  
'Tis written that the Life of Man, said He,  
Shall lean not only on the Staff of Bread,  
But by a surer Prop supported be,  
By the more wholesome Word of God being fed.  
What need We Loaves our Hunger's rage to still!  
Out of God's Mouth comes that which Mans will fill.   

185.  
O most impenetrable Buckler! how  
Slender an Help is triple Steel to thee!  
Seav'n-times-redoubled Adamant must bow  
To thy less vulnerable Durity.  
O Scripture! what vain shades and feathers were  
Goliah's Arms, if they with thee compare!   

186.  
This Psyche, this, is that unconquered shield  
Under whose sure Protection Thou may'st go,  
Although all Hell pitched in a Martial Field,  
Conspired has, and sworn thine Overthrow.  
Thy Spouse hath taught thee its great use, and He  
Did fight with none but this Artillery.   

187.  
Yet as the greedy Wolf, once beaten back,  
By that Repulse is but enraged to  
A second Onset, and doth fiercelier make  
His fresh Encounter: Angry Satan so  
Bruised by this Fall, and vexed at the pain,  
Plucks up his Spirits, and ventures on again.   

188.  
Yet being forced to his sly shifts to run,  
He plausibly pretends the sullen Place  
To be the stage where heavens illustrious Son  
Should act his Greatness, too unworthy was:  
And instantly resolves to change this mean  
And despicable, to some gallant Scene.   

189.  
For as a dainty Cloud came by that Way,  
He, the usurping Prince of all the Air,  
With a stern Look commanded it to stay,  
And so got up into his flying Chair,  
Taking thy Lord with Him, who was content  
To try what by this new Design he meant.   

190.  
Then bidding the next Wind upon Him wait,  
He through the Welkin scoured, and quickly came  
(For now his Way all open lay and strait)  
Unto the Top of fair Jerusalem,  
Where on the Temples highest Pinnacle  
He Jesus set, and to his business Fell.   

191.  
Alone he fell to it: His numerous Train  
Being left behind, and charged to attend  
Their Kings Return; for much he did disdain,  
In case he could not now achieve his end,  
His envious Elves again should witness how  
A starved Man gave Hell's Prince the Overthrow.   

192.  
He wisely pondered that the Arms whereby  
He first Repulsed was, the mightiest were;  
And therefore cunningly resolved to try  
If he could Scripture bow to serve his War.  
O Wit of deepest Hell, which makes a sword  
Of Gods own Word to fight with God the Word.   

193.  
And then; I grant, said He, that thy Reply  
Was true, but yet no Answer to my Doubt:  
Lo here a Scene, where Thou may'st satisfy  
By one Experiment every scrupulous Thought:  
If God thy Father be, throw thyself down,  
For He for certain will preserve his own.   

194.  
Is it not Written, That He shall Command  
His trusty Angels to attend on Thee,  
And with a watchful ready stretched Hand  
From the least touch of Danger keep Thee free,  
That no rude Stone with churlish Shock shall meet  
(So tender is He) thy secured feet.   

195.  
Mark Psyche, mark the Cheater's Craft, how he  
Mangles the Text, and skips what likes him not.  
In all thy Ways they shall Assistant be;  
So ran the tenor of the Scripture; but  
He knew full well that Precipices were  
No Ways for Man; and therefore that did spare.   

196.  
Be sure it move thee not, if henceforth thou  
Seest any of his Urcheons Scripture spit:  
For they by his authentic Copy know  
Both how to geld and to adulterate it;  
Or at the least such peevish Glosses make,  
As it against itself shall force to speak.   

197.  
But with another genuine Text thy Lord  
Nobly confuted Him, and thus Replied:  
This law's enacted in the sacred Word,  
Thou shalt not tempt thy God: and Heaven forbid  
That I should dare his Providence, and think  
When I plunge down myself, I cannot sink.   

198.  
Perhaps thy Wonder asks why Satan now  
He on the Brink of Danger him had set,  
Bridled his Fury, and forbore to throw  
Him headlong thence: But thou must not forget  
That He was jealous still, and feared lest  
His Foe at force of Arms might get the best.   

199.  
Alas the Chain of all his Power is short,  
Believe it Psyche, there's no Mortal Wight  
But if he would resolve to hold his Fort,  
Might tyre his Siege, and all his On-slates sleight:  
But silly Men unto his strength make way,  
Whilst they by lazy Fears themselves betray.   

200.  
Satan at this Repulse, deep in his Heart  
Stifled his Grief, and smothered his shame:  
And now resolved to act another Part,  
Leaped on that Cloud upon whose back he came.  
With which He through the wondering Air did swim  
Hurrying thy patient Lord along with Him.   

201.  
To his expecting Train He swumm, for now  
Put to his last Reserve of Plots, he meant  
To venture all at one great Cast; and though  
Still both that they should see Him foiled, he went  
With desperate resolution to the fight:  
Deer was his Credit, but more dear his Spite.   

202.  
Unto a Mount he marched, whose heavenly head  
Despised Basan, Carmell, Libanus,  
The alps (where Winter all year keeps his bed,)  
With Pendle, Calpe, Atlas, Caucasus,  
And all the proudest Cliffs of Ararat  
Where Noah's floating Ark first footing got.   

203.  
A Mount which on the highest Clouds looked down,  
And saw all kinds of Wether far below;  
A Mount which seemed to be Earth's sovereign Crown,  
Where never any Wind aspired to blow;  
A Mount which bravely reached at Heaven, & made  
Far distant Country's subject to its shade.   

204.  
Arrived there; with a new plate of Brass  
His never-blushing Front he fortified,  
Being now upon an Enterprise which was  
Second to that in impudence and pride,  
When armed with spiteful Fury and Disdain  
He ventured to assail heavens Sovereign.   

205.  
'Twas was the same Son of heavens eternal Father  
To whom his stomach then refused to yield  
Obedience and homage, and chose rather  
To try it with Him in a pitched Field.  
Fool, who by his first Fall no warning took  
For what He was the second fight to look.   

206.  
A massy Throne of beaten Gold stood there,  
Whose lustre round about the Region spread,  
Placed on a Pavement glorious and clear  
Refined Silver newly burnished.  
Triumphant Arches and Columns on each side  
In laurel Wreaths hid and displayed their Pride.   

207.  
Here Satan pitched him down: when lo the Crew  
Of his attending Elves in humble guise  
Themselves before his radiant footstool threw,  
Adoring Him with millions of lies;  
Nor durst they from the Pavement stir until  
His nod did intimate his gracious Will.   

208.  
Then stretching out his Hand, he gave the Sign  
To that brave Apparition, which He  
By sprightful Art had taught how to combine  
With his profound but glorious forgery.  
One Moment was sufficient; for the Scene  
Before his Hand was quite stretched out, came in.   

209.  
A mighty Globe came rolling up the Hil,  
Which on an airy Axle turned before  
His stately Throne, and to that Bulk did swell,  
That the full figure of the World it bore:  
No Conjurations ever grew so strong  
As this, of all Enchantments the huge Throng.   

210.  
There might You see the Eastsillustrious shore,  
The Western Columns, and th' Atlantic Sea;  
Of Ice and snow a never thawing store  
Both in the North and South Extremity;  
The Dogstars' Empire; The vast Libyan strand  
Where endless Summer boileth in the Sand.   

211.  
There gallant Indus washed up his Gems,  
There wealthy Tagus paved his shores with Gold,  
There Thamisis poured out her silver streams,  
There Ganges, Ister, and Pactolus roul'd,  
Hydaspes, Tanais, Rhone, Rhine, Niger, Po,  
Euphrates, Tigris, Nile, and Thousand more.   

212.  
There Palestine in Milk and Honey swumm,  
There shadowed with her odoriferous Cloud  
Arabia was, there China found her room,  
There Scythia in her Furs herself did shroud,  
The Sea did there thine Albion divide  
And set it like a better World aside.   

213.  
There dwelled all Countries which this Age doth know,  
And more than yet must to its knowledge come:  
When Avarice to its full Age shall grow,  
And think its thirsty Purse hath more than room  
For this scant World, another shall be 〈◊〉  
Which yet the West in ignorance hath drowned.   

214.  
But in this ample Pageant was displayed  
That other World which Times to come shall see  
By venturous Columbu's Art betrayed  
To Christian Covetousness and Cruelty.  
(O why should Christians be such muck-worm fools  
And Western Gold more dear than Western Souls!)   

215.  
No sooner had this Globe turned round about,  
And every Kingdom's proudest Glory shown;  
But from his Rome Tiberius stepped out,  
And pulling off his own imperial Crown,  
With fear and reverence his Approaches made  
To Satan's footstool, where his face he laid.   

216.  
And having prefaced by that lowly Kiss,  
Behold, great Sir, my Diadem, said He  
Bows to thy royal Footstool; and by this  
The highest of Assurances, to Thee  
I who am in thy Roman World thy great  
Viceroy, my homage tender at thy Feet.   

217.  
Thou art that Prince by whose high power alone  
Th' Assyrian Lion made the World his Prey;  
By 〈◊〉 the Persian Bear's Dominion  
Through all the Forests of the Earth made way;  
By thee the Grecian Leopard snatched all this,  
And stoutly wished another World were His.   

218.  
By Thee the Iron-jawed, ten-horned Beast,  
The Martial Roman Power, so dreadful grew  
That clearly it devoured all the rest,  
And with the Sun victoriously flew  
About the World, which now sits safe, and sings  
Under the Shadow of our Eagles Wings.   

219.  
By Thee great Julius did our Empire found,  
By Thee Augustus second was to Him;  
By Thee this third, this head of mine was crowned  
With this, the shadow of thy Diadem:  
O may thy Vassal with thy Favour, and  
Thy Blessing, wear this Gift of thine own Hand!   

220.  
So with a thousand Holocausts will I  
Make fast thine holy Altar Morn and Night;  
So my imperial Yoke and Reins shall lie  
Upon my Subjects Shoulders soft and light,  
Whilst by thy Benedictions influence  
I reign of Justice, and of Mildness Prince.   

221.  
Tiberius here some gentle Nod expected  
As a Commission to resume his Crown:  
But strait the wretched Flatterer detected  
In surly Satan's face a cloudy Frown;  
Nor was it long before that Cloud did break  
Into a Storm, when thus to Him He spoke;   

222.  
Thou hast condemned thyself Tiberius, by  
Acknowledging that I thy Sovereign am;  
For how shall I intrust a World in thy  
Luxuriant lazy Hand, who hither came  
Upon no business but my Visitation,  
Which bids the Earth now look for Reformation.   

223.  
My Name, my Honour, and my tender Care  
Of my dear World, all summon Me to find  
Some Hero's worthy Temples, which may wear  
That Crown according to my princely Mind.  
Nor fawn, nor whine, nor weep Tiberius, I  
Provided am of one who here stands by.   

224.  
Then turning to thy Spouse, with gracious Eye,  
I must my courteous Fortune thank, said He,  
Who in my Progress did so luckily  
To my (not poor) acquaintance offer Thee:  
I little thought, till I this view did take  
That I a new Lieutenant had to make.   

225.  
By him I see how Princes love to slide  
Down the glib way of wretched Luxury:  
And what should silly People do, whose Guide  
Leads them the way to Ruin? Have not I  
Just cause to choose some sober Man, whose Care  
May stop that desperate vicious 〈◊〉   

226.  
Now whether Thou be'st Son to God, or no,  
Surely Thou spring'st from some Heroic Race,  
I see the noblest Sparks of Virtue so  
Full writ in thy, though pined yet, princely Face.  
Although thy modesty conceals thy Birth  
And Parentage, it cannot cloud thy Worth.   

227.  
And yet even that is precious too; for well  
I know that stomachful Ambition threw  
From heavens high Crest down to profoundest Hell  
Disdainful Lucifer and his swelling Crew.  
Yet that which doth my wonder Most advance  
Is the strange Mircle of thy Temperance.   

228.  
That Virtue never yet alone did dwell  
But is the fertile spring of all the rest  
How easily a Temperate Prince may quell.  
And crush all breeding Vices in their Nest.  
Whilst all his Life is a perpetual Law,  
Which sweetly drives, when Statutes cannot draw.   

229.  
And such a Prince, and none but such, can cure  
The wide Contagion which rank Vice hath spread  
On this poor Age: Nor can my Love endure  
Longer delay, since I am furnished  
With Thee, that only He, whose merits call  
To make thee Deputy of All this All.   

230.  
Nay more than so: Thou see'st how Age doth grow  
Upon my weary back; and I confess  
That I am satisfied and tired now  
With Glories Sweets, and Honour's Weight, no less  
Than with my Years, and could contented be  
To end my days in quiet Privacy.   

231.  
Nor must it be in vain that I have found  
An Hero, on whose shoulders safely I  
May lay the Burden of my Cares, and ground  
Just hopes of all my World's Felicity.  
Wherefore this free and plenall Act I make  
Before heavens face, which I to Witness take:   

232.  
First, I bequeath to Thee Tiberiu's Crown  
To which Imperial Rome's vaft Power is tied;  
And next, I to thine Head resign mine own  
Fair Diadem; For thou henceforth shalt ride  
Upon my royal Chariot, and alone  
Govern this World, as I till now have done.   

233.  
These Glories which about this Globe do roll,  
Are but the beams of that which shall be thine;  
The Kingdoms which are spread from Pole to Pole  
Shall in thy universal Realm combine;  
And in requital of thy noble Fast,  
The World shall join its Store to dress thy Feast.   

234.  
My Servants here shall swear, so shall my Peers,  
(And I myself will tender Them the Oath,)  
Allegiance unto Thee, and to thy Heirs,  
Yea, to complete my grand Donation, both  
My Shrines and Temples I to Thee resign,  
Where no Name shall adored be but thine.   

235.  
Nor will I any constant homage tie  
To this my Grant; for all that I shall ask  
Is but one Token of thy Thanks, which I  
Will take for ample Pay: Nor is the Task  
I'll set Thee, hard, or long; Do but Fall down  
And worship Me, and all the World's thine own.   

236.  
So spoke the King of Craft. But as the Sea  
Which rolls above the Spheres, when daring Men  
Affronted God with to wring Villainy,  
Forgot its ever-polished Smiles, and in  
Tempestuous Violence breaking through the shore  
Of heaven, a flood of Death on Earth did pour:   

237.  
So now thy noble Spouse, who never yet  
Had suffered frowns to gather on his Brow,  
An angry Look against the Tempter set,  
And with disdainful Answer made him know  
That all his Pageantry did not conceal  
Nor Him, nor what he sought to hide, his Hell.   

238.  
Proud Satan, 'tis enough that I, said He,  
Thus long have seen and born thine Insolence:  
Lo I defy thy Promises, and Thee  
Vainer than them: I charge thee get thee hence  
Behind my back, and there thy shameless Pride  
(If any thing may hide it,) learn to hide.]   

239.  
Does not the sacred Scripture plainly say,  
Thine Adoration Thou to God shalt give,  
And unto Him alone thy Service pay?  
All Heaven forbid that We should Him bereave  
Of his due Homage, and embezzle it  
Upon the Prince of the infernal Pit.   

240.  
As when on Sodom's Impudence of old  
Heaven poured its Fire to purge those lustful flames;  
The wretched Town repented not, yet howled,  
And mixed its tears amongst the Brimstone streams;  
But all in vain, for strait the Houses burned,  
And with their Dwellers into Ashes turned.   

241.  
So now at Jesu's Answer, which did fly  
Like Lightning from his Lips, the Globe did melt,  
And nothing of that Universal Lie  
Remained, but Ashes, which so strongly smelled  
That other Stinks compared with this, might seem  
Perfumes, and Arabies breath, in Sodom's steam.   

242.  
Confounded Satan backward from his Throne  
Fell down the Mount, and tumbled into Hell,  
Whilst the loud Trumpet of his bellowing Groan  
His dreadful Coming, to the Deeps did tell:  
But as he fell; his Horns, and Tail, and Claws  
Broke out, so did the Sulphur from his Jaws.   

243.  
His yelling Peers, and lamentable Crew  
Of Pages, tumbled headlong after Him;  
Presenting to thy Lords victorious View  
A Copy of that Sight, when from the brim  
Of highest Heaven them and their King He beat  
Down to the bottom of their damned Seat.   

244.  
And now the Scene is changed; and Satan to  
The Lord his God his Adoration paid  
Which to himself he wooed that God to do,  
So, Jesus, may all Treasons be betrayed;  
So may all Rebels find their cursed feet  
Snarled for evermore in their own Net!   

245.  
Whilst these three Conflicts passed, Heaven set its Eye  
On its divinest Champion, but forbore  
All Help or Comfort, till the Victory  
Was clearly gained: When lo triumphant Store  
Of Angels hover down, with high-strained Lays  
Back to the spheres returned the Victor's praise.   

246.  
O Psyche, hadst thou heard that royal Song,  
Thou wouldst have learned how We above employ  
Our blessed Time, where on each high-tuned Tongue  
Sat endless Raptures of excessive Joy,  
Whilst every hearty Angel as he sings  
Clapps his Applause with his exultant 〈◊〉.   

247.  
Their Gratulation ended; on their Knees  
A sumptuous Banquet They to Him present,  
Wherein was choice of all Varieties  
With which heavens King could his dear Son content:  
And He in whom all princely grace doth reign,  
Was pleased their ministry not to disdain,   

248.  
But when He thus had broke his mighty Fast,  
The Fury which so long lay in his breast  
(Impatient gnawing Famine) out he cast,  
Returning her unto her odious Nest,  
And bid an Angel tie her in that Chain  
When he had driven her to her Den again.   

249.  
There must she dwell, and never be let loose,  
But when his royal Pleasure thinks it fit  
To pour his Wrath on his relentless Foes  
Whom lusty Fatness makes too bold, and great  
To be his Subjects, in whose Laws they hear.  
Of Abssinence, a yoke they will not bear.   

250.  
And now by that Eternal Spirit, who  
Brought Him into the lists of this great Fight,  
He to the Coasts of Galilee doth go;  
Whither He could have flown by his own Might,  
But Heaven was studious to attend Him, and  
In his great Business joyed to have an hand.   

251.  
Another World of Wonders will appear  
When thither I shall carry Thee; but now  
Thou shalt repose thee here a while, and cheer  
Thy Spirits to run that ravishing Race: I know  
That thou, (so dear are thy Lords ways to Thee,)  
Wouldst longer Fast; but now it must not be,   

252.  
This said; He spread his wing (as he before  
Had often done) and on that Table set  
Out of his own unseen, but copious store,  
Chaste and delicious Cates for her to eat.  
She blessed her gracious Lord who fasted so  
Long time before he eat, and then fell to.   

253.  
But whilst on those external Meats she fed,  
Her soul sat at a secret feast, for she  
Her Hearts fair Table fully furnished  
With the rich Dainties of this History,  
Knowing her Lord (and this advanced the Cheer)  
Did Fast and fight, not for himself, but Her.   

254.  
And now, because the Sun made haste to rest  
And smoked already in the Western Deep;  
Phylax his chariot curtains drew, and pressed  
The Virgin's Eyes to do as much by Sleep.  
One Wing beneath, and one above her head  
He laid, and turned her Board into her Bed.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO X. The Marveils.  
ARGUMENT.  

LOve to convince the World in whom alone  
It ought to treasure all its Confidence,  
Affords a fair and full Probation  
What undeniable Omnipotence  
Dwelled in his Hand, which always sheltered  
Those who unto its Sanctuary fled.   

1.  
IT is not Beauty, which its Blush doth owe  
Unto the Pixe and Pencil 'Tis no King  
Who on the Stage doth make a rustling show,  
And thunder big imperious Words, which ring  
With awful Noise about the Scene, when He  
By the next Exit must some Beggar be.   

2.  
All is not Gold that in a glistering Ray  
Fairly conceals its foul hypocrisy.  
The gareish Meteors, though they display  
Good store of shining Proofs, will never be  
Own d by the Stars for Bretnerens, nor can  
The Ape, with all his Tricks, be genuine Man.   

3.  
The heady Rebel, though all Texts he screws  
To force Truth to confession of a Lie;  
Though at the Bar of Nature's Laws he sues  
To justify unnatural Liberty;  
Though Conscience and Religion, the things  
He overthrows, he for his groundwork brings;   

4.  
Though from Success (a firmer Argument  
For the Odrysian Christian-hating Race,)  
He pleads the Sanctity of his Intent,  
And blasphemously makes Heaven own his Cause;  
In vain strives to transform his hellbred Sin,  
Which still makes Him to Lucifer a kin.   

5.  
The staring Vizard never yet could by  
His mumbling Charms, his Herbs, his Lines, his Wand,  
His hideous Sacrifices, form a Lie  
Able against the face of Truth to stand,  
Nor can his Master Satan though all Hell  
He rends, or blends, effect a Miracle   

6.  
Oft has he ventured and strove to tread  
In those Almighty Steps of Heaven, but still  
The Paces were so wide, that all He did  
Was but the proving of his feeble Will:  
His Wonders never reached above Deceits,  
With which imprudent Eyes and Hearts he cheats.   

7.  
No: God alone is King of Nature, and  
She her own Sovereign full well doth know;  
No sooner doth her Ear drink his Command,  
But 〈◊〉 her knees, and heart and powers bow:  
For, all things must be Natural, says she,  
Which my Creator's Voice enjoineth Me.   

8.  
That Voice the Fountain was whence first she rose,  
And ever since hath been the Rule whereby  
She 〈◊〉 her Course which way so e'er she goes.  
That Voice which did awake Vacuity  
Into a full and mighty World, at ease  
May change its Parts into what form it please.   

9  
Yet seldom it unsheaths its Power, but when  
Some high and singular design's in hand,  
Some Mystery of mighty Love: and then  
Should the fast Centre in its Passage stand,  
It must and will give way, and to the Top  
Of Heaven itself, if need require, climb up.   

10.  
For what's the Centre's close-shrunk Knot; or what  
All heaven and earth which round about it cling,  
If in a righteous balance They be put  
With Love, that little Word, but mighty Thing?  
Themselves they only to Love's pleasure owe,  
And cannot to His will refuse to bow.   

11.  
Full low They bowed to it, when from the Yoke  
Of cruel Pharaoh Israel's seed it drew:  
Ten mighty Blows it gave, and every Struck  
Some part of Nature in proud Egypt slew  
At length it rolled the Sea upon an heap,  
And opened the Rebel's Graves amidst the Deep.   

12.  
How fertile did it make the Wilderness  
In Miracles! in what illustrious Flames  
Renowned Sina's Temples did it dress!  
How did it teach the Rock to melt in Streams,  
Bidding the Desert flow, as it before  
Had charged the Sea to start from either shore!   

13.  
This set the heavens to rain down Angel's Bread,  
Who every Morning did betimes fulfil  
Their wondrous Task, and all the Desert spread  
With a thick candied Banquet; which lay till  
The liquorish Sun delighted with the Taste,  
On that Ambrosia daily broke his fast.   

14.  
This made the Wind turn Caterer, and blow  
The People flesh: This did the Cloud command  
By day to usher and before them go  
With a cool shade: This built that walking, and  
Bright-flaming Pillar, whose convoying Light  
Commission had to banish Night from Night.   

15.  
Jordan forbid by This, presumed not to  
Touch the Priest's feet, though through his 〈◊〉 they passed:  
This armed mere Sound against proud Jericho,  
And stormed the City by poor Trumpets Blast;  
Whilst the hugeBullwarks which all Ramms did scorn  
Fell prostrate down, & yielded to the Horn.   

16.  
This put more Might into a feebler Sound,  
When unto Joshua's Mortal Voice 'twas given  
To domineer amidst the Starry Round,  
And against Day's Giant barracadoe Heaven.  
This made the Clouds their gentle Drops forget,  
And Storms of Stones on Israel's Enemies spit.   

17.  
Yet all these Wonders but Preludiums were,  
And glimmering Dawns of that illustrious Day  
Which in Time's plenitude was to appear  
And the ripe Age of Miracles display.  
For then the Word itself came down below  
From the worse Egypt's Yoke his World to draw.   

18.  
Decorum did require this Time should be  
The Crown of Times: Those Forgeries with which  
The height of all Poetic Industry  
Did coin the Golden Age, and it enrich  
With Fancies Gallantry, could never rise  
To match this more than Golden Age's price.   

19  
Phylax, who knew all this, resolved to show  
Psyche a glimpse of it: with whom, when she  
Awoke, he in his willing Chariot flew  
High through the yielding Clouds, and instantly  
Reached Palestines designed Zenith, where  
He curbed his Steeds on the commanded Air.   

20.  
Psyche admired to see the Chariot stand  
Upon so thin a floor: But then, said he,  
This Region is not only in the hand  
Of Satan's power; No, our Authority  
Is clearer far than his, though he would here,  
Usurper as he is, a Kings Name wear.   

21.  
Alas, time was, (as he remembers well)  
When tumbled headlong from our lofty Home,  
He could not stay himself, but helpless fell  
Through all this Air, to his infernal Doom.  
Indeed he often crawleth up this way,  
Yet 'tis but like a Thief, to steal his prey.   

22.  
But from this Prospect Thou shalt safely see  
The Sceens on which thy Lord his Wonders did:  
Not all; their number is too vast for thee  
Within the volume of one Day to read:  
And yet as many as shall amply prove  
That all his business in this World, was Love.   

23.  
That tract is Galilee; you ' little Town  
The place where first his Might abroach He set;  
Where he was pleased a Marriage Feast to crown  
With his great Presence, and Approof of it.  
Although his Mother were a Virgin, He  
Would not to Wedlock seem an Enemy.   

24.  
No: He himself at first ordained it  
As a delicious and sacred Tie,  
By which indissolubly He might knit  
Two Bosoms in one Love's Conspiracy.  
This is that reverend Knot by which alone  
Two are no longer Two, but Both are One.   

25.  
A Knot which He himself doth imitate,  
Though in a puter and more mystic way;  
Whilst with his Spouse he doth concentricate,  
Blending his heart with hers; that so Both may  
Cleave in such unity as makes the Creature  
Strangely Partaker of its Maker's Nature.   

26.  
A blessed Knot, which ties Affection close  
Betwixt the Branches and the Root, and binds  
Up Families in peace; which hanging loose  
By doubtful Lines, as oft as waspish Minds  
By Discontents proud itch were spurred on,  
Would split, and be infallibly undone.   

27.  
Satan was well aware of this; For he  
Bewitched grave Plato's high-esteemed Pen  
To vent the Doctrine of Community,  
As most conducing to the Weal of Men:  
But when the moderate Pagan's Project proved  
In vain a desperate Christians Tongue he moved.   

28.  
For He in Antioch found a Monster, who  
Dared spit plain Poison on this Mystery,  
Avouching that all Nuptials did flow  
From cursed Hell's Invention: Hell, said He,  
Was the black Shop where Belzebubs own Hands  
Did forge and fashion Matrimonial Bands.   

29.  
Unhappy Saturninus how hast thou  
Proved thine own self an Urcheon of Damnation!  
What gainest Thou else by fetching from below  
Thy Being's Root, which was of heavens plantation!  
O most adulterous Soul, who by thy vile  
Crime, all the World's Beds dost at once defile!   

30.  
Whilst Jesus now sat sweetly at the Feast,  
And added a new Banquet to that Meat,  
(For on his face the Eyes of every Guest  
As in the richer Dainties, all were set,)  
A fit Occasion Him beseeched to join  
To that Dry Banquet of his Face, some Wine.   

31.  
The Wine was out: When lo the Virgin Mother  
In courteous Pity of the Bridegrooms Want,  
(Which she as careful was as he, to smother,)  
Unto Her Son, the Fount of all Things, went,  
And, in a blush more lovely than the Bride  
Could show that Day, the business signified.   

32.  
But then her Son (who was not hers alone,  
But also heavens, and now resolved to show  
A token of that high Extraction)  
Began (for 'twas the first time,) to allow  
No Name of Mother to Her: What says He,  
O Woman, what have I to do with thee?   

33.  
This business Must not seem to flow from thy  
Sole Motion; Heaven and I have plotted it;  
Nor needest thou lend us any Wings to fly  
Who can make haste enough, when Hast is fit.  
The Wheels of Time with speed enough do run,  
But yet mine Hour they have not rolled on.   

34.  
Know Psyche, that his Hour is Mercies Cue;  
And when Extremity of Need doth call,  
Then Mercy loves her gracious Power to show;  
The want of wine was yet not known to all  
The Company, whose Souls it did concern  
By that, thy Lords wise Potency to learn   

35.  
But yet no sooner did that Want appear,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with ready Goodness gives Command;  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 He spied standing there  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 own Liquor should be filled, and  
〈◊〉 for the Convives: When lo, at the Spout  
The Miracle into the Bowl gushed out.   

36.  
He who had Water taught by passing through  
The Conduit of the vine and of the Grape,  
To turn to brisk and joyful Wine; did now  
Teach it as much by running through the Tap.  
The cool and Virgin Nymph drawn from the Pot  
All over blushed, and grew sparkling hot.   

37.  
The Master of the Feast amazed at  
Her sprightful Sweetness, wondered whence she came:  
Never had his judicious Palate yet  
Discovered such a brisk and sprightful Dame.  
Alas He knew not that His gift She was  
From whom no Thing but what is Best, can pass.   

38.  
Look yonder flows the Sea of Galilee,  
Upon whose sandy shore, which He had set  
To curb and bridle in its Waves, as He  
Uouchsas d to walk, his Eyes an object met  
Which moved their pity, and that moved Him  
In a new Sea to bid the Fishers swim.   

39  
Peter and Andrew in the tiresome Maine  
Catching their Living with their Fish, he spied;  
In whom he read the vainer Life of vain  
And muddling Man, who in the briny Tide  
Of this unstable World his Days doth waste  
And with his Net, himself into it Cast   

40.  
So certainly Uncertainty upon  
This Life's unfaithful Stage doth domineer;  
Proud Change in such confounding Sport doth run  
Here sometimes flowing, sometimes ebbing there;  
That Earth itself may seem, no less than Sea,  
At never settled Luna's beck to be.   

41.  
This made Him cry aloud, Come Follow Me,  
And I will you embark upon the Shore  
In a more safe and profitable Sea,  
Than you have ever fished in before.  
Let those mute things alone, and I will make  
You henceforth catch such Fishes as can speaks.   

42.  
The Shoal of Men which in this Ages Deep  
Do scud about, unto your Nets shall flow:  
Those feeble tattered Things you need not keep,  
I upon You will nobler Nets bestow;  
Immortal Nets, which know not how to break,  
Nets which the Universal World shall take.   

43.  
As needless is your crazy Bark, for I  
Intent to build a royal Ship, in which  
You round about the Globe, being steered by  
My watchful Providence, shall safely reach.  
When Heaven fears being shipwrackt, then shall this  
vessel, which nothing but heavens Kingdom is.   

44.  
Hast Thou not heard how Sirens notes have drawn  
The Fishers from their Boats into the Sea,  
In whose sharp Brine their silley Preys they drown,  
Drowned before in their soft Harmony?  
Well then might this strong Charm those Men invite  
To plunge into the Sea of safe Delight.   

45.  
Once more their Nets they Cast, but Cast away;  
Meekly ambitious to be Fishes now,  
And yield Themselves to Him a willing Prey  
Who thus his Net of Love about them rhrew.  
Never Adventure did they make like this,  
Where being caught Themselves, they Catched their Bliss.   

46.  
But yonder taken was an harder Prize:  
There once erected stood Exactions Throne,  
Where Levi sat, Lord of a strange Excise,  
The heavy Mark of Rome's Dominion,  
A Knight he was, for none but such might be  
Entrusted with that Cruel Dignity.   

47.  
That at the gracious Calling of thy Lord  
Fishers were well content their own to leave,  
Less ground to sober Wonder doth afford:  
Their cold, and wet, and dirty Trade, might drive  
Them to an easy faith their old Degree  
Of life, by any new advanced would be.   

48.  
A Faith, which in the Dregs of Time, so far  
Abused will be, that bold Mechanics, who  
In poor and painful Trades engaged were,  
When Sloth and Pride make them too worthy to  
Buckle to work, their Tools away will throw,  
And, by this Call, inspired Men-fishers grow.   

49.  
But what Charms can outvie the power of Gold,  
An heavy strong and precious Chain, which now  
In dear imprisonment did Levi hold,  
And fast upon his Soul and Body grow;  
Can a Poor Master such a Man persuade  
To leave great Cesar, and his thriving Trade!   

50.  
A sturdy Mountain may more easily be  
Commanded to resign his native place,  
And heave his mouldering bulk into the Sea:  
The Sun may sooner from his princely face  
Tear all his golden Tire, and damp his light  
In the vile pitch of an unnatural night.   

51.  
Yet as thy Lord (alas how mean and poor)  
Passed by the Office, He this Word let fly,  
Come follow Me: which forthwith over-bore  
By most unconquerable Potency  
The startled Seat, the Profit, and the Man,  
And turned into a Saint, the Publican.   

52.  
The World's Opinion Levi pondered not,  
Nor how Tibereus this Affront might take,  
He counted not what He should lose, or what  
He should not gain, whilst he this Change did make:  
He asks no Friends advice how he might keep  
His fame, nor stays to Look before he leap.   

53.  
But as forth from its horrible Abyss  
The World did at thy Spouses Call appear;  
So from the blacker deeper Mass of his  
Confused Mammon Levi mounteth here,  
And bravely Follows Him without delay,  
Who was Himself his Leader, and his Way,   

54.  
For Love like Lightning from the blessed Eyes  
Of Jesus, shot itself quite through his Heart,  
Where into its own instant Sacrifice  
What e'er it light upon it did convert:  
So sublimate and so refining was  
The Fire, that all the Gold it turned to Dross.   

55.  
Doubts, Fears and Cares and secular Relations  
It quite burnt up, and in his flaming breast  
Left nothing but the noble Exultations  
Of valiant Zeal; which, should the World resist  
Its course with all this Mass of Earth and Sea,  
Would rend its way through all, and victor be.   

56.  
O Psyche, Love, Love is that potent Thing  
To which all other Strength its head bows down:  
The Universe's most Almighty King  
Ne'er chose to use Powers Title as his own,  
But in this sweeter Name of higher might  
(For God is Love) he takes his dear delight.   

57  
Thy Lord his ordinary Chaplanes thus  
Did choose, and twelve their mystic Number was;  
For in this Zodiac He all-gloryous  
Resolved through his Grace's Orb to pass  
About his World; Nor does the other Sun  
Through fewer Signs in his great voyage run.   

58.  
But I must tell Thee (for himself descried  
The Secret first) One of the Twelve He chose  
An Hellhound was, and the falsehearted Guide  
Unto his dearest Masters mortal Foes;  
One who did prove in matchless height of evil  
Against Incarnate God, Incarnate Devil.   

59  
Yet, such was Jesus most unbounded Love,  
That He resolved to do his best, and try  
How He from Judas bosom might remove  
Intruding Hells pernicious monarchy.  
For Heaven forbid that Pities Lord should fashioa  
A way to plunge Him deeper in Damnation.   

60.  
O no! may those black Mouths for ever be  
Damned up with Silence, and with Shame, which dare  
Father the foulest deepest Tyranny  
Upon the God of Love; And busy are  
In pleading it from his own Word, although  
By it they make Him Contradictious too.   

61.  
But all the rest were faithful Souls, who stood  
True to their Lords Cause; which they strove to write  
(As He in His had done) in their own blood;  
And never started at the sharpest Fight,  
But by their own Deaths studied, as they  
Were able, His great Death how to repay.   

62.  
James was the first, old Zebedees' elder Son,  
To whom proud Herod's Sword the way cut open,  
And gave Him leave that noble Race to run,  
Which leadeth strait to heavens illustrious Top.  
How little dreamed the Tyrant, that He did  
Put on his Crown, when He took off his Head!   

63.  
The next was Philip, who with noble Heat  
Flew to the North, and hunted out the Ice  
From those dull Hearts, which ne'er with Heaven did beat,  
But with congealed stupid Ignorance freeze;  
For his large Scene was snowy Scythia where  
December takes his Walk through all the year.   

64.  
When He that Winter all on fire had set  
With Christian Flames, He bent his Course into  
A Clime which should have been much warmer, but  
At his life's price He found it was not so:  
For soon He saw that more than Scythias Ice  
Bound up the Heart of Hierapolis.   

65.  
Jove's Name had left no room for Jesus there;  
And when He tells the People of the shame,  
The Nails, the Cross his Lord for them did bear,  
He his own Torments did aforehand name.  
Enough of Jesus now, said They, for We  
Will quickly make as good a God of Thee.   

66.  
Then with a thousand Taunts they pierce his ear,  
And next with nails his sacred Hands and feet,  
And so his Cross with acclamations rear:  
Where like a Mark to fury being set,  
Flints near as hard's themselves they pour upon Him,  
And from their World thus into Heaven did stone Him.   

67.  
Thomas, whose Doubts did fix his Faith so Fast  
That neither Life nor death could make it shake,  
With Jesus in his Mouth through Parthia passed,  
And charmed what Rome could never pliant make.  
The AEthiop's too did hear his Voice; but He  
Resolved to reach the World's Extremity.   

68  
He had observed how the greedy West  
Into the East was drawn by thirst of Gold,  
Which had the Suns and Nature's Courses crossed,  
And into Jndus Mouth the Ocean rolled:  
And will none go, a richer prize to win  
Than that fair Ore, said He, the Souls of Men?   

69.  
Sure Indians Souls of purer Metal are  
Than that which Avarice doth so far adore,  
Thomas will thither trade, though India were  
More Worlds off than it is, from Jordan's shore;  
For in his Zealous Sails God's Spirit blows,  
And not to fetch, but carry Gold He goes:   

70.  
If Gold be not too poor a Name to set  
Upon the forehead of his royal Wares;  
Loves, Joys, Peace, Glory, Bliss, and every Sweet  
Of sweetest Paradise He thither bears,  
For these, and more than these enshrined be  
In Jesu's Name, heavens best Epitome.   

71.  
With this He traded to make India rich,  
And not Himself, who now could not be poor;  
As having more than All, though not so much  
As any thing laid up in provident Store:  
He knew his Lord was Plenty's King, and He  
Did as his own account His Treasury.   

72.  
Close to his work, without all further care  
He falls, and having opened his Merchandise,  
Come Buy, says He: for though these Wares be far  
Above your glittering Ore's adored price,  
Yet you on Trust may go for all this Bliss;  
Give but your Faith, and yours the Treasure is.   

73.  
The brahmin's wondered at the generous Man,  
So did the sage Gymnosophists; until  
A barbarous unmoved Faction  
Passed a blind Act of Spite, to seize and kill  
The noble Merchant; who as ready stood  
To pour it forth, as they to suck his Blood.   

74.  
Armed with their King's Consent, and with their spears,  
Unto his Heart they open their cruel way;  
Whilst He with sweet content their Madness bears,  
And for his Doubting Hand returns this Pay;  
This final Pay for that (now faithful) Hand  
Which deep in debt to's Master's Side did stand.   

75.  
The younger Jame's, whose noble Family  
Advanced Him to be Brother to his Lord,  
Much nearer grew of Kin by Piety:  
No man with stouter fervour Him adored,  
Nor with more resolute Constancy than He,  
Witness his reverend Forehead, and his Knee.   

76.  
His Knee; all plated with Austerity,  
Which on the Temple's Pavement night and day  
Did naked dwell, till it arrived to be  
Hard as the Marble, which beneath it lay:  
There never grew on painful Camels Knees  
So stiff a Proof of Patience, as on His.   

77.  
His Forchead; which was sealed with the same  
Stamp of Severity; for by Prostration  
Its fleshy Tenderness he overcame.  
O sacred Impudence of Humiliation!  
Whilst wicked 〈◊〉 armed were with Brass,  
His prous Front in Brawn immured was.   

78.  
A Brawn which shall hereafter check their Pride  
And foolish Superstition, who by new  
Coined Devotion, will the Old deride,  
And think no worship from the Body due;  
But in pretence their Conscience tender is,  
Maintain their dainty Flesh's Tenderness.   

79.  
His dearest Meat and drink was to fulfil  
His Master's Pleasure: Ne'er did dangerous Grape  
Its blood on his abstemious Palate spill,  
Nor slain his sacred Cup: for mean and cheap  
His Liquor was; the virgin Fountains were  
His only Cellars, and his only Beer.   

80.  
Ne'er did the rampant flesh of Birds or Beasts  
Reek in his Kitchen, nor sweat on his Board:  
Chaste Moderation cooked all his Feasts,  
And well she knew how to content her Lord;  
His highest Fare were sober modest Fishes,  
Where Water served for Beer, the aptest Dishes.   

81.  
Ne'er did perfumed Oils his Body dew  
With their soft Flattery of delicious Sweat  
Unmanly Baths his skin did never brew,  
Nor cheat his Vigour with effeminate Heat.  
His Limbs in active Linen used to dwell,  
Being never muffled up, and lost in Wool.   

82.  
Nor was that Linen, though full course and plain.  
Contemned in the People's Eye, for they  
On bended knees were Suitors to obtain  
His leave, their offerings on its Hemm to lay;  
That as he through the Streets was passing by,  
Their Lips, and Kisses they might sanctify.   

83.  
O how imperious is meek Piety  
Whether it will or no, commanding All  
Spectators into Love and Reverence! he  
Who counts Bliss by true Honour, must let fall  
All other Plumes, and wisely learn to dress  
Body and Soul in humble Holiness.   

84.  
Nay now the surly Priest, among the rest,  
Of James his matchless Worth convinced is;  
And finding him to be the holier Priest,  
Grants him into the Oracle free Access;  
Of which mysterious Place he had the glory,  
(And none but he) to make his Oratory.   

85.  
He was the holier Priest indeed; for now  
The ancient Priesthood with the Veil was rend:  
The Diadem too was fall'n from Judas brow,  
And famous Salems' Regal Glory spent.  
But James did there erect the sacred Throne  
Of his Episcopal Dominion.   

86.  
Yet are the Northern Winds, and Irish Seas  
More trusty than the Jews: The Jews to day  
Can heap their Kisses, and their Courtesies  
On him whom They to morrow will betray;  
Jew's Mouths unto thy face can speak all good  
This hour, and in the next will suck thy Blood.   

87.  
With Acclamations They this Saint had set  
In state, upon their Temple's Battlement:  
Where he no sooner did assert the great  
Name of his Lord, but with one mad consent  
Of Rage, they throw him headlong down, and slain  
The ground both with his blood and with his Brain.   

88  
Zelotes, and Thaddaeus, that brave Pair,  
When He in Egypt preached had, and He  
In Mesopotamia; united were  
To reap in Persia their felicity:  
This was the Crown of Martyrdom, which in  
The Quarrel of their Saviour they did win.   

89.  
Peter the Leader of that glorious Train,  
When he had fixed the Antiochean Seat,  
For his more reverend Throne a place did gain  
In Caesar's conquering City; where the great  
Irradiations of his Fame did call  
Rome's noblest Strength, to try with Him a Fall.   

90.  
This Strength was Simon whose Apostasy  
From Truth, in Deeps of Magic Him did drown,  
But more in Lies, and desperate blasphemy,  
For all Gods Rights He claimed as his own,  
And left no Trinity in Heaven but taught  
That He himself alone with it was fraught.   

91.  
The Father in Samaria, the Son  
In Jewrie, and in all the world beside  
The Spirit He preached Himself: And yet alone  
Pretended not ability to guide  
His own Creating Hand, but when He made  
The Angels, granted He had Helen's aid.   

92.  
This was the surest way he had to gain  
His precious Whore, to set her on his Throrie,  
And in his God head let her Partner reign.  
Besides, to help on the production  
Of Heresies and blasphemous Portents, Hell  
Thought Females useful then, and always will.   

93.  
And so the World will say, when it has known  
Priscilla, Maximilla, and the Pair  
Of Philumena's with the double Spawn  
Of lying Elkai: for her wretched share  
In such Deceits, some Eve will still come in  
As Helen here did into Simons Sinne.   

94.  
He taught his Scholars in Himself and Her  
To treasure up the hopes of their Salvation;  
And heedless Souls the surer to ensnare,  
He freely loosed the Reins to every Passion:  
No matter how you live, or die, said He  
So long's your Faith builds on my Grace and Me.   

95.  
This was that Champion, by whose Magic skill  
Befooled Nero thought Him God indeed,  
And prayed Him by some Signal Miracle  
To dash those daring Wonders Peter did.  
His Credit bid Him to that Motion yield,  
And set the Day when He would fight the Field.   

96.  
The Day is come, and Simon boldly makes  
The Challenge, which was unto Heaven to file:  
With that, his Arms he weighs, and spreads, and takes  
His unwinged flight: but turns his scornful Eye  
Down upon Peter, whom into the Hands  
Of Justice, and of Death, He recommends.   

97.  
The Clouds had gathered thick about the Sky  
To guard the fair Heaven from his soul intrusion  
Yet their Battalia He broke, and by  
His working Arms, unto his high Delusion  
Forced open the way, The People, as he went,  
Their Wonder, after Him, and Worship sent.   

98.  
But as the never-beaten Fencer lets  
His bold capricious us Combatant grow high,  
Before He strikes in carnest, and so gets  
A later, but a nobler Victory:  
So Peter let's his Foe alone, till He  
High enough for a fatal Fall might be.   

99  
Then posting after Him with mighty Prayers,  
The Devils which bore Him up He forced away:  
Forth with, down headlong his aerial Stayrs  
The Conjurer fell, and on the Pavement lay,  
Where bruised, and batter d, all in gore embrued  
His black blood, and his blacker soul he spewed.   

100  
Straight, in the People's Mouths the Devil's cry,  
Peter our God hath by enchantment slain.  
And so did this unreasonable Lie  
Prevail, that He is first unto a Chain  
Condemned, and afterward unto a Crosse.  
Unhappy Rome, which mad'st thy Gain, thy Loss   

101.  
For Thou no sooner gainest thy freedom from  
That cursed Wizard; but Thou dost betray  
Thine own Deliverer: if Simon whom  
Thou seest confounded by the Power which lay  
In Peter's Prayers, were a God; o why  
Must Peter now not be a Deity?   

102.  
Yet He cries out: This Altar is too rich  
For Me, so poor and vile a sacrifice:  
Was not the Cross that glorious Place on which  
My Master paid the World's eternal price!  
Sure were some gallant Seraph hear to die,  
This Engine would his Passion dignify,   

103.  
Yet if I must thus high aspire; may I  
At least obtain this leave of you, to show  
That I desired not in this Pomp to die:  
So Hang Me that my reverend Head below  
May pay its final Kisses on the Feet  
Of my most royal Saviour's dying Seat.   

104.  
Nero to such Requests as these was free,  
Full glad that He had learned a new-found-way  
To cross and double Crucifixion; He  
Commands his Sergeants not to disobey  
The wretches wild Desire, but, so He died,  
To let Him any way be crucified.   

105.  
The Saint thus fixed on the reversed Tree,  
Now finds his Eyes turned from all things below,  
As was his Heart before: And joyous He  
In spite of all his obst'nate Nails, knows how  
That Place to which his Feet did aim, to gain,  
Which Footstool Simon reached at in vain.   

106.  
Andrew, his Brother both in Nature's and  
In Zeale's and Pieties (much straighter) Tie,  
Through Thrace and Scythia travelled with the grand  
Charge of appeased heavens sweet Embassy.  
The dark Barbarians wondered at the bright  
Meridian Day amidst their Northern Night.   

107.  
The Day He brought was that which owes its East  
Not to the East, but to the South, for there  
(In privileged Palestine) thy Lord was pleased  
First unto his Horizon to appear.  
It was thy Lords sweet, Day, on which depends  
The High-noon of that Bliss which never ends.   

108.  
Thence into Greece the restless Preacher came,  
Arrogant Greece, who though her own She makes  
The opposite to the Barbarian Name,  
Yet more inhuman savage Courses takes  
Than Thrace or Scythia: O that famous Arts  
Should raise men's Wits, yet stupefy their Hearts!   

109.  
Achaia smiled, and with disdainful Mirth  
Patrae confuted all that Andrew said;  
His Beggar-God's poor miserable Birth,  
And viler Death They scoffingly upbraid:  
Nor did AEgaeus, though Proconsul He,  
Stop, but spur on the People's Villainy.   

110.  
A Cross they make Him of a newfound frame  
(Whither his meek Desire, or their wise spite  
Projected it,) which thenceforth bore its Name,  
As it did Him that day: A Cross not right  
Erected and transverse, but thwarted so  
That it a X, more than a Cross did show.   

111.  
A X, the blessed Letter which began  
His Master's dear Name and his own: His Cross  
Itself proclaims He dies a Christian;  
And though the holy Omen to his gross  
Though learned Foes were unperceived, He  
Rejoiced in his Crosses Mystery.   

112.  
A Cross which shall e'er long so glorious be,  
Wearing his Name upon it crucified,  
That it shall crown the Scottish Heraldry  
And in the Top of all its Banners ride.  
What Glories then shall Saints themselves obtain,  
If in such state their Sufferings Badges reign.   

113.  
Nailed fast unto this Honour was the Saint,  
Arrayed in Scarlet from his own rich Veins:  
The Grecians took it for a torturing Paint,  
And thought his Cross a Throne of Sovereign Pains:  
But He his noble Pulpit made this Tree,  
A Pulpit which did preach, as well as Herald   

114.  
Long was his Sermon, for his last it was;  
Two days it measured; and yet seemed but short.  
What are two poor and flitting Days, alas,  
To that which doth Eternity import?  
He preached Eternity, unto whose light  
His hoodwinked Torturers He did invite.   

115.  
At length perceiving Death no haste would make  
With strong Desires he wooed it to come:  
Not that his Pains his Patience did break,  
But that his Heart did long to be at home.  
He could be nothing but a Stranger, where  
His Master's blessed face did not appear.   

116.  
And am I nailed in vain, dear Lord, said he,  
Unto this Pillar of renowned Death?  
Though not poor I, yet thou Deservest for Me,  
That in this Honour I may yield my Breath.  
These potent Words to Heaven with violence flew  
Whence a fair light they for his Convoy drew.   

117.  
As in the bosom of his Chariot's flames  
Illustrious Phehus through the Spheres doth speed;  
So resting in the Arms of these sweet Beams  
The Saints brave Soul was thither carried.  
Thus in her funeral Fire the Phoenix dies,  
And by her Death, to fairer life doth rise.   

118.  
On Zeals undaunted Wings great Bartholomew  
To meet the Day's Flame where it kindled is,  
Unto the furthest brink of India flew;  
And taught the East to bend their wakening Eyes  
Upon a new Son who no Gold did need  
To dress his Locks, and more than golden Head.   

119.  
Then having left His goodly Picture there  
Which Matthews Pen had drawn fair in a Book;  
He posted backward to Armenia, where  
The same illustrious Work in hand he took.  
But promising his Hearers Kings to make;  
The King grew wroth, and thus his Fury spoke:   

120.  
Bold Wretch, who pratest of the idle Throne  
Of thy vain Christ; I'll make thee know that I  
In my Armenia will have but one,  
And that's the Seat of my own Majesty.  
If Jesus be a God, his Heaven will be  
Realm large enough; He need not trench on Me.   

121.  
'Twere special Credit for Armenia's King  
To entertain as a great Deity  
A stable-born and manger-cradeled Thing;  
Whose ignominious Death did justify  
The vileness of his Birth, because a poor  
Resolved doting Wretch doth Him adore.   

122.  
O no! the Gods by whose great Blessing I  
Possess my Crown, are Gods enough: Away  
With shameful Jesu's useless Deity.  
Yet for some use Thou mayst be fitting: Say  
Sergeants, will not this Carrion serve to flay?  
Though He be naught, yet good his Skin may be.   

123.  
That only Word sufficient was to let  
The Tiger's loose; who strait the Saint undress  
Both of his clothes, and Skin, which at the feet  
Of their fell Lord they threw; for it was his  
Due right the blessed Martyr's skin to keep  
In token that He slew the harmless Sheep.   

124.  
But He now grown far fairer than before,  
As when the Sun from Clouds unveiled is,  
Did shine and sparkle in his glorious Gore,  
Quite dazzling by his noble Nakedness  
The Devil's eyes, who could have wished the skin  
(To hide his own shame) on the Saint again.   

125.  
Yet 'twas in vain; for Bartholomew was now  
Fit for the Robes of Immortality,  
Which Jesus hand— ready was to throw  
Upon his most deserving Back; for he  
Might without Pains and Crowding now get in  
At heavens straight Gate, who first put off his skin,   

126.  
But Matthew into AEthiopia ran  
Venturing upon a strange Design, for there  
He strove to purge the Crow into a Swan,  
To make Pitch Crystal, Ink Snow, Darkness clear,  
Spots beauteous, Sables lucid, Shadows bright,  
I mean, to wash the Pagan Negro's white.   

127.  
And this by Baptisms searching Streams he did,  
Which drowned their Hearts in Life and Purity:  
Soon the full Torrent of his Name did spread,  
And in the Channel of the Court grow high:  
The Court soon catched the News, but little thought  
That in the Newse's Net itself was caught.   

128.  
Caught was its dearest Gem, the Virgin Heart  
Of Iphigenia, daughter to the King:  
And now not all the flattering frowning Art  
Of royal Hirtacus her Soul could bring  
To leave her mystic Spouses love and wed  
Himself who panted after her sweet Bed.   

129.  
O no! She cried; My Vow is past, and I  
Unto my God my Body must restore  
As I received it: My Virginity  
Is now entirely His, and mine no more:  
Matthew is witness, and it were in vain  
For Me to call my Promise back again.   

130.  
O if you love me then, love what I am,  
Love Love himself, and so you shall love me;  
Be truly Royal, Love the Christian Name,  
And let my Sacred Vow still Sacred be:  
For I may to no Pagan Spouse be tied,  
Who to an heavenly Bridegroom am affied.   

131.  
The Prince with Wrath, and Folly blinded, saw  
Not how this Match, most matchless was, nor that  
She had already chose a King: And though  
The shame of mere Humanity would not  
Permit his Rage to take its swinge on Her,  
Yet He o'er Matthew let it domineer.   

132.  
His choicest Bloodhounds in all haste he sent  
With correspondent charge against the Saint;  
Whom finding busy at the Sacrament,  
With His, and his Lord's blood, the floor they paint;  
And at the Altar thus the Martyr dies,  
To Heaven a willing, and sweet Sacrifice.   

133.  
Mathias, whose heav'n-witnessed Faith commended  
Him to supply the Traitor Judas place,  
To finish Matthews great Design contended  
In AEthiopia; whence He turned his Race  
To Jewry, where his blood he forth did pour  
For Him who gave him all his own before.   

134.  
John was the last; but first and highest in  
His dear Esteem who is Himself most High:  
O blessed Saint, which didst the Riches win  
Of all heavens sweetest fullest Treasury!  
Jesus, indeed, does all Men love; but he  
Not only loved, but was in love with Thee.   

135.  
He was in love with thy Virginity  
Which with all blooming Graces was bedecked;  
Of all his Twelve choice privileged Chaplanes, He  
Did for his amorous Favours Thee select:  
He did select Thee his soft Spouse, in whose  
Delicious Eyes He meant his own to lose.   

136.  
He was in love with the reflection  
Of his own Sweetness shining in thy face;  
With sympathetick Joy he dwelled upon  
His iterated Self in that pure Glass,  
Striving all Lovers Arts on it to prove:  
O blessed Soul, with whom Love fell in love.   

137.  
From off the troubled Main he lured Thee  
Into a deeper Sea of calmest Pleasures,  
The bosom of supreme Serenity;  
To which the Ocean is but poor in Treasures.  
His own dear Breast to Thee he opened wide,  
And let Thee in unto its fullest Tide.   

138.  
There didst Thou lie, and learn thy Soul to glow  
By the dear Copy of thy Pillows Heat;  
A Pillow in whose soft Protection Thou  
Puttest all thy Cares and Fears to rest: And yet  
Sleepest not thyself; for how could any Eye  
Endure to close, when Jesus was so nigh?   

139.  
There didst Thou lie, next to the Heart of Love,  
Whose ravishing Embraces kept thee warm  
With all the best of Heaven, no more above,  
But folded up in his encircling Arm:  
Which forced all wise Spectators to conclude,  
Thou wert aforehand with Beatitude.   

140.  
The loftiest Stories where pure Seraphs dwell  
Exalted in Felicities bright Sphere,  
Thy dainty Habitation did excel;  
For at his Footstool They lie prostrate there  
Amidst the Sweets of whose all-balmey Breast  
Thine only Head makes its delicious Nest.   

141.  
What potent Joys, what mystical Delight  
Wooed, and besieged thy Soul on every side,  
Whilst thy enamoured Spouse spent all the Might  
Of heavenly Tenderness on his dear Bride!  
How many healing Wounds gave his Love's Dart,  
How many living Deaths, to thy soft Heart!   

142.  
How did he study to epitomise  
His Incarnation's amorous Design,  
And try the best of mercy's Mysteries  
Upon thy single Soul! in which divine  
Experiment, it was thine only Grace  
To fill his universal Church's place.   

143.  
Thus while he lived, he sweetly lived in Thee:  
And when he died, Thou saw'st him nailed fast  
Unto his Death: Yet no Mortality  
Could seize upon His love; for by his last  
And tenderest Words, whilst he Himself did die,  
To Thee he gave Loves living Legacy.   

144.  
Into his dearest Mothers Bosom he  
Commended Thee, and bid her own her Son:  
What Nature could not, Love contrived to be,  
And Mary must be Mother unto John:  
Jesus and John Love had so closely tied,  
That in their Mother they must not divide.   

145.  
Mary no other Glass could findè, where she  
So fair an Image of her Son might read;  
Nor John so pure a Mirror wherein He  
His ever looking-longing Eyes might feed  
On his dear Lord: Thus Love though dead and gone,  
Sweetly leaves John, his Spouse; Marry, her Son.   

146.  
No wonder, gentlest Saint, that on thy Tongue  
Love built his Hive, and dropped his Honey thence,  
Whilst thy Soul-charming Words relish so strong  
Of heavens best Sweets, and choicest influence;  
That Love from his own Wing lent Thee the Quill  
Which all thy Lines with Charity doth fill.   

147.  
No wonder Thou, brave Eagle soar'dst so high,  
And div'dst so deep into the Sun's bright face;  
Where Thou didst read the Words great Mystery,  
By which thine Eye refined, not dazzled was:  
No wonder that Thou didst thy Gospeli fashion,  
And Calculate by God's own Elevation.   

148.  
No wonder that Port Latin saw the Oil  
Scalding in vain: Thou who didst live by Fire,  
And in whose breast such amorous streams did boil,  
Couldst feel no other Flames. O no! some higher  
Fervour of Love must melt thine own, and send  
It to the flaming Bosom of thy Friend.   

149.  
The Languishments of never-faint Desire  
Must crown thy Life with correspondent Death:  
Though by sharp Pains thy Brethren did expire,  
This dainty Martyrdom must end thy Breath:  
So Heaven has privileged thy Piety,  
Thou who didst Live by Love, of Love must Die.   

150.  
Pardon me Psyche, I could not forbear  
This dear Apostrophe: John was the Man  
Whose virgin flaming Worth made Him be near  
Of kin to our Angelic Tribe; and can  
We mention him, and not salute him too,  
Whom Honours Sovereign Lord has honoured so?   

151.  
And pardon Me, that I have dwelled so long  
On his Apostolic brethren; the Glory  
Of whose death-scorning Valour, does no wrong,  
Nor interrupts their Master's royal Story:  
He, and his heavenly Might, in them appeared,  
And o'er the vanquished Earth his Banner reared   

152.  
Mark now that Mount which lifts its lofty Head  
Near to Bethsaida, whence it takes a view  
Of all the Countries round about it spread;  
Nor Zebulon, nor Nephthali out-flew  
Its Prospect; which through Trachonitis too.  
And Ituraea did sublimely go.   

153.  
Yea, though far distant, it acquaintance took  
With other Mountains; unto Hermon, 〈◊〉,  
And stately Libanus it reached a Look.  
This was that noble Oratory where  
Thy Lord so oft retired, that the Place  
Thenceforth the Mount of Christ 〈◊〉 was.   

154.  
A Mount where liberal Nature did her best,  
Witness the flowery Beauties smiling there;  
But Grace far more 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Than that bright Pomp which and of old prepare  
For the Lawgivers feet the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Of Sina, mixed with Thunder, Smoak, and Dread.   

155.  
For here no Trumpet spoke the Frightful Mind  
Of stern Imperiousness; no rigid Law  
Backed with an everlasting Curse, enjoin d  
The World to its hard Yoke their Necks to bow:  
But Love himself upon his gentle Throne  
Gave the soft Laws of Benediction.   

156.  
Eight Springs of Blessedness abroach he set,  
And wooed the weary World to bathe in Them.  
Their Cares and Fears he taught Them to transmit  
And bury all Solicitude in Him:  
He passed his Word Heaven should their Purveyor be  
Who served in the Wars of Piety.   

157.  
His Evangelicall Oeconomie  
He instituted here; and so improved  
The highest Pitch of Legal Sanctity,  
That though incumbering Burdens he removed,  
Yet more Bonds of Perfection on he laid,  
And wondrous strict his Mercies Candour made.   

158.  
His Reins were Silk, but yet he held them straight,  
And drove amain; providing by that Art  
That in their Passage no enchanting Bait  
Might his Disciples lure and tempt to start  
Out of the King of heavens high Way, but to  
His Kingdom safely and directly go.   

159.  
His blessed Rules, and none but His, are They  
Which past the Purity of Gold refine  
Gross Mortal Hearts, and sublimate poor Clay  
Into a State Angelic and Divine,  
Whilst by his Spirit He scours off sinful Rust,  
And into Heaven blows up the purged Dust.   

160.  
But turn, and view those Desert Fields which lie  
Next Neighbours to the Galilean Sea:  
Into that hopeful quiet Privacy  
Devotion had withdrawn thy Spouse: but He  
Had given the People too much taste of his  
Sweetness, to think He long could scape their Press.   

161.  
For as the busy Bees who once have found  
〈◊〉 Garden, haunt it day by day,  
〈◊〉 out every flower, and humming round  
About the Tops of their delicious Prey:  
So to that Garden (for thy Lord had by  
His presence made it so,) did People fly.   

162.  
Jesus who bowed from Heaven poor Man to meet,  
Could not refrain to entertain the Throng:  
With gracious ready Welcome He did greet  
Each Troop and Party as they came along,  
Dealing his Courtesy to great and small,  
Who came to be the Saviour of All.   

163.  
Then as the wise Physician first takes care  
That all the Vital Parts be sound within,  
Before He spend his pains on any Soare  
Which sinks into the Flesh, or on theSkin  
Doth swim: So did his Tenderness to those  
His numerous Patients his art dispose.   

164.  
Their Hearts and Brains with long Distempers were  
Into a desperate Condition brought,  
Had they not met with His all-healing Care:  
For from his Lips such Cordials strait broke out,  
Such Salves, such Balsams; that all Heaven did seem  
Turned into Physic to recover Them.   

165.  
heavens Kingdom was the Medicine He applied,  
A Medicine which its Doctor did become;  
A Medicine fit to slake and cure that Pride  
Which made poor Man so sick; His Home from home  
To find his lost Sheep, unto Earth He brings,  
And is resolved to heal them into Kings,   

166.  
Sweet words of Wisdom, Power, Life, and Bliss,  
Into their Ears He poured; and in their stream  
So rarely He infused all Paradise  
That what did nothing but a Sermon seem,  
Was liquid Heaven. Thus the rich Gem unseen  
Swumm in the Bowl of the Egyptian Queen.   

167.  
Never did Ethan the sage Ezrahite,  
Never did Heman, Chalcol, Darda; who  
On Wisdom's Wings exalted to the height  
Of noble Fame, about the World did go:  
Never did Trismegistus, never did  
The deepest Reach of Zoroaster Head:   

168.  
Never did Solomon whose gallant Wit  
High as the Heaven, and deep as was the Sea,  
Unlocked and ransacked every Cabinet  
Of darkest Nature; dive so far as He,  
Or drop such Sentences and Parables,  
As those with which his deep Discourse He fills,   

169.  
Yea even the Serpent, in whose wily Head  
All Craft doth reign, when He thy Grandam Eve  
With his profoundest and most studied  
Enchantments tried, of old, and did Deceive,  
Less sweetly and less subtlie spoke, than now  
The Sermon from thy Spouse's Lips did flow.   

170.  
The Serpent's Preachment only was to steal  
Eve into part of his own Misery;  
Thy Spouse's end was only to reveal  
The way unto his own Felicity:  
And Heaven forbid, but Truth as strong should be  
As undermining Lies and Flattery.   

171.  
It was as strong, by full Authority  
Showing its own authentic Might and Worth;  
And not in doubting sneaking Jealousy  
Of labouring for an abortive Birth.  
'Tis the Scribes Chair which totters thus, not His  
Which surer than the World's Heart fixed is.   

172.  
He as Amphion by his charming Song  
Rude savage Hearts did tame and civilize;  
By the high Sweets of his more potent Tongue  
Did all his Auditors with Heaven surprise.  
The senseless Spheres a ravishing Sound can make;  
Much more his Voice from whom their tune they take   

173.  
This done: The tender God his Love extends  
Unto their Bodies; Ears unto the Deaf,  
Feet to the Lame, Eyes to the Blind He lends,  
And finds more choice of sovereign Relief  
Then they of Wants. O copious Saviour, who  
At once can heal both Soul and Body too!   

174.  
The Day grew now decrepit, and the Sun  
Bowed to the West: when the Disciples pray  
Their Lord to give the Crowd leave to be gone  
And get their Suppers in the Towns which lay  
About the Deserts verge: O no, said He,  
They are my Friends, and they shall sup with Me.   

175.  
Alas, how will You entertain, eried They,  
These numerous Mouths! Two hundred pence in Bread  
Will not yield every one a bit; what way  
Shall then this mighty Feast be furnished?  
How shall thy Table stored be with Dishes?  
Here's nothing but five loaves, and two small Fishes.   

176.  
As yet, they knew not, Psyche, that their Lord  
Was He who to the copious Rivers does  
From a small Fountain all its Streams afford;  
He by whose Providence from one Candle goes  
That fertile Flame which lights a thousand more  
Without diminishing its original Store;   

177.  
He by whose Power Elijah did command  
The final Hand-full of the wasted Meal  
To grow upon the pious Widow's Hand;  
Which straight did his Injunction fulfil,  
And by a springing Harvest more than turn  
The pined Barrel to a plenteous Barn.   

178.  
He, in obedience to whose Might, though at  
Elisha's Word, the Pot of Oil a waked  
Into a Spring, whose bubbling ceased not  
Till Want of Vessels its Abundance slaked;  
But then grown wisely Thrifty, it repressed  
Its Bounty, that there might be Nothing lost.   

179.  
He whom the same Elisha did foreshow,  
When He before an Hundred People set  
That simple Pittance, which in Spending grew,  
And being small at first, at last was great;  
The Eaters Teeth unlocking but the Way  
Unto the Store which in that Little lay.   

180.  
But now He taught Them; Go, said he, and make  
My Guests by fifty on a row sit down.  
This done: The Fishes and the Loaves he took  
In his creating Hands; when to his own  
Heaven lifting up his Eyes, and saying grace,  
His Blessing in the Victuals swelled apace.   

181.  
He broke the Loaves, and every Peice he broke  
Straight proved as great's the Whole; no Crum did fall,  
But rose into a Loaf. Thus when you make  
Division of the smallest Line, still all  
Are Lines as well as it, although for ever  
The new emergent Parts you should dissever.   

182.  
By strange Division the Fishes too  
He taught to spawn a new and wondrous Fry;  
Though dead, yet at his Touch they started so,  
That Two usurped Multiplicity,  
No longer Two, but a large Shoal, which from  
The Sea of Love out at his finger's swumm.   

183.  
Then his Disciples Service He commands  
To set before his Friends this growing Feast.  
Both Bread and Fish into the People's Hands  
They straight distributed; and every Guest  
Fell to, admiring how that simple Meat  
Made them forget all Honey to be sweet.   

184.  
The Quails and Manna had been homely Fare,  
Which Heaven did in the other Desert shower  
When hungry Israel was a Pilgrim there,  
Had this been present then; The Wines brave power,  
At Cana born, excelled the Grapes best Blood.  
So did this Feast to Day, all other Food.   

185.  
Satiety at length, not nauseous,  
But sweet and comfortable, put a close  
Unto the Banquet: When thy generous,  
Yet thrifty Lord, enjoins Them not to lose  
His Bounty's surplusage, nor scorn the Meat  
Because he gave Them more than They could eat.   

186.  
Straightway the Fragments all collected were  
Which fifty hundred feasted Men had left:  
When lo the Totall was exceeded far  
By those remaining Parts; the teeming Gift  
Pursued its strange Multiplication still,  
And with the Relics did twelve Baskets fill.   

187.  
Believe it, Psyche, thy wise Spouse did by  
This Wonder, to a greater open the way;  
The long designed and precious Mystery  
Of his own Body, which He meant to lay  
Upon all Christian Altars, there to be  
The endless Feast of Catholic Piety.   

188.  
A Feast which shall increase upon its Guests  
And be entire when Millions filled are;  
A Feast of Miracles, a Feast of Feasts,  
Not to a Desert tied, but every where  
Dispersed abroad, yet every where complete,  
That all World may freely come and eat.   

189.  
The feasted People were dismissed now,  
And Jesus steps into that Mount to Pray:  
Sure 'twas, that Bliss along with Them might go  
Whom He so carefully had sent away,  
That Night might not upon their Path encroach,  
Nor Dangers Ambushment their footsteps touch;   

190.  
That by that Miracle which thus unto  
Their Teeth had proved his Power Divine to be,  
All other fruitless Helps they might forgo,  
And build their Trust on His Divinity.  
But His Disciples now, seeing their Lord  
Would have it so, were gone before aboard.   

191.  
That Sea, whose face Thou see'st all polished  
With flattering Calmness, smiled just so on Them  
When first they launched out: But Fraud lay hid  
Under the glass of the alluring Stream:  
Truth needs no smiles; 'tis only Treason's face  
Which painted is with spruce but borrowed Grace.   

192.  
As when an envious Spirit can find no way  
To vex the Master's Person, He doth make  
Either his Servants or his Friends his prey,  
And at the second hand his Vengeance take;  
So Satan now, too weak with Christ to fight,  
On His Disciples vowed to ease his Spite.   

193.  
Deeply He pined to see the People fed,  
And now resolved that He Himself would Feast:  
Yet by the Seas vast Mouth he purposed  
His Dainties to devour; and thus at least  
Part of the Miracle revenge, and though  
Not for the Loaves, quit for the Fishes grow.   

194.  
He from the Adriatic Main, and from  
The Baltic Ocean, and the Irish Sea,  
Summoned all unexpected Storms to come,  
And here pour out their utmost Treachery.  
He made each Wind pick Quarrel with his Brother,  
And in a mad War tumbled Them together.   

195.  
The East was peevish; sharp, and grim the North,  
The West impetuous, black and foul the South;  
Each puffed and swelled, and in disdain shot forth  
Their fury full in one another's Mouth:  
The bruised Clouds in floods their sorrows poured,  
And all the weatherbeaten Welkin roared.   

196.  
The tattered Sea against the shores was flung,  
Which churlishly again repulsed it back;  
The broken Waves with helpless Mourning rung,  
And foamed with pain; The startled Deeps did quake,  
And thinking to escape that dismal fray,  
From their profoundest Bottoms ran away.   

197.  
And now the Sea within itself was lost,  
Whilst the stern Tempest vehemently broke  
Through her most hidden Bowels, which it tossed  
In proud scorn through the Air, with hopes to choke  
The Moon and Stars; which wild Confusion  
Made both the Waters and the Winds, be one:   

198.  
And thus the Winds flowed, and the Waters blew;  
The Thunder's Cracks did with the Billows join;  
The Lightning flashed, that misery to show  
In which all Dread and Death seemed to combine:  
'Twixt light and Darkness, hence grew such a fight,  
That now, alas, 'twas neither Day nor Night.   

199.  
The woeful Ship flung up to Heaven in vain  
Upon the back of an unfaithful Wave,  
Immediately was hurried down again  
Into the bottom of its gaping Grave;  
Where yet it could not rest, but was spewed up.  
With indignation to the Tempests Top.   

200.  
The Mast submitted to the Wind, and split;  
The Sails forsook the Ship, and flew away;  
The Pilot at the Helm in vain did sit,  
Being in need of some kind Hand to stay  
And steer himself: The Sea made bold to come  
Aboard, and take a view of every room.   

201.  
The Waves laughed at the Pumps, and crowded in  
Faster than they could turn them out: Each Wind  
Bandied the Bark, contending which should win  
The credit of its Wrack: Thus may you find  
In Tennis-courts a Ball banged to and fro  
Until some Loss at length do let it go.   

202.  
Themselves to their Devotions All applied,  
(For Danger wakes the dullest Piety.)  
O where is Jesus now his scholars cried,  
How is his promise washed away, since We  
Whom for Men-fishers He designed had  
Must unto Fishes now a Prey be made!   

203.  
Yet, as their Lamentations swelled, the Tide  
Of louder Winds and Waves still drowned their Cry.  
They once for all most gladly would have died,  
But still they saw how Deaths did multiply,  
And throw them and their Ship broken together  
From one Destructions Mouth into another.   

204.  
Mean while the Gulf of Satan's boiling Breast  
Wrought with as great a Tempest of Vexation,  
To see a crazy Vessel thus resist  
The Wind and Seas most eager Conjuration;  
Puzzled and grieved, he wonders what should make  
A Bark so oft broke, still refuse to break.   

205.  
At last, forth from a mighty Cloud there broke  
Continued Lightning through the dazzled Air,  
By which the Men spied on the Tempests back  
One marching towards Them; and now new Fear  
Stormed their Souls: O, the Disciples cried  
By all these Deaths why might we not have died!   

206.  
Lo here the Spirit comes whose fatal Wrath  
Raised this Tempestuous Preface to our Woe:  
Hither he bendeth his prodigious Path,  
And tramples all the Waves: What shall We do!  
Behold, which way so e'er he waves his Hand  
The Clouds start back, and bow to his Command.   

207.  
Behold no Wind durst be so bold as to  
Disturb his Way with any 〈◊〉 Wether,  
But all officiously behind Him go  
Showing that on his Errand they came hither.  
He comes, He comes! Sweet Sea o gape not thus  
In vain, but from this Danger swallow Us.   

208.  
Forthwith their Lord who heard this desperate Cry,  
His Comfort interposed: Why, said he,  
Add you this Tempest to your Misery,  
Rending your Hearts with Dread? Know you not Me?  
I am your loving Lord and Master, and  
What need you fear, now I am here at hand?   

209.  
As he whose trembling Neck does ready lie  
Under the Axe, if some unlooked for Voice  
Tells Him the Judge is pleased he shall not die,  
Starteth and slowly understands the Noise  
Of his Repreive, being already dead  
In his own helpless Thoughts, and buried.   

210.  
So these Disciples drowned in their fears,  
Scarce trust their Eyes which did their Saviour see,  
Scarce would they Credit give to their own Ears  
Which heard Himself 〈◊〉 that it was He:  
Till forward Peter cried, O bid Me meet  
If Thovour Master art, thy blessed feet.   

211.  
If thou deceiv'st Us not, each sirlie wave  
At thy Command unto my steps will bow,  
And with Security my Passage pave.  
If other wise; Can I be worse than now?  
The Sea into our Ship does crowd, and I  
Must either here or there, in Water die.   

212.  
Christ bids Him come; and out he steps; When lo  
As He went trembling on, a high-swolln Wave  
Comes tumbling in his way, and frights him so  
That all his Courage it does strait outbrave.  
His Heart sunk first, and then his feet, and all  
But's Tongue, which to his Lord for help did call.   

213.  
Had any other Lord but He been there,  
With what indignant Scorn would He have let  
His faithless Subject meet his Censure, where  
He his unworthy Crime chose to commit:  
Only Omnipotence is pleased to spare  
Those who distrustful of its Power are.   

214.  
Jesus, who never could his Help deny  
To suppliant Sinners, reached his blessed Hand,  
(That Hand in which alone Security  
Doth dwell; that Hand which rules the, Ocean, and  
Measures it in its Hollow,) and pulled out  
Peter from the deep Sea, and deeper Doubt.   

215.  
And then, O thou of little Faith, said He,  
Why did that weak Suspicion press thee down?  
What made Thee so forgetful prove of Me  
Who in their own Waves can all Tempests drown?  
Come, thou shalt see that Winds and Seas do know  
The Power of their Maker more than Thou.   

216.  
Here, being got aboard the Ship, His Eye  
Upon the Storm he set, and signified  
His royal Pleasure. Strait the Winds did spy  
Their duty in that potent Glance, and hied  
A way in such great haste and fear, that They  
Lost all their Breath and Spirits by the way.   

217.  
The mutinous Billows saw his awful Look,  
And hushed themselves all close into their Deep:  
The Sea grew tame and smooth, the Thunder broke  
Its Threatening off; 〈◊〉 Lightning durst not peep  
From its black Nest, being now out-shined by  
The flashing Mandates of its Master's Eye.   

218.  
The Devils which all this while had tossed and rend  
The Elements, perceived the final Wrack  
Fall on their own Design, and homeward went  
With yelling Cries, The Clouds in sunder brake,  
And having cleared the Scene of its loud Wars,  
Left the fair Heaven all full of smiling Stars.   

219.  
Forthwith the Ship without or Sail or Tide  
Kept its strait course, and flew unto the shore:  
Where Jesus deigns to be the Vessels Guide,  
There needs no help of time, Tide, Wind, or Oar;  
He whose mere Look could make a Tempest clear  
Could by his Eye the Bark both drive and steer.   

220.  
Mark yonder shore of populous Genaser,  
Where from a Storm he once arrived before:  
Great was the Wonder he achieved there,  
Where no tempestuous Winds or Seas did roar,  
But raging Fiends who had themselves possessed  
Of an unhappy Man's usurped Breast.   

221.  
Those Tombs without the Town Thou seest there,  
These Devils made that Man's chief Habitation;  
For to those Spirits such places dearest are  
As most-invite to desolate Desperation.  
But henceforth Christian Caemiteries shall  
Revenge this boldness, and all Hell appall.   

222.  
Nor shall the Fiend which wears the famous Name  
Of wise Apollo, dare not to confess  
As much to Julian; though He cloak the shame  
Of his enforced Silence: Babyla's  
Mere Dust and Ashes shall have power to stop  
His lying Mouth, and seal his Oracle up.   

223.  
Sometimes unto that neighbour Mountains Brow  
They drove the wretched Man, in hopes that he  
Out of his tiresome Life himself would throw  
Into their Pit of deeper Misery.  
A thousand Snakes about his heart they wound,  
Whilst Rage and Madness did his Brain confound.   

224.  
The froth of which Confusion foamed out  
At his unquiet Mouth: sometimes He roared,  
Sometimes he sung; and when the Passion wrought  
His Tongue to Blasphemy, he freely poured  
It forth, and railed on Heaven and God, whom yet  
He thought not of in all his raving Fit.   

225.  
The Rocks and Tombs He filled with yelling Cries.  
Which deeply frighted every Passenger:  
Poetic Fancy never could devise  
Such hideous Barking for fierce Scylla, or  
Fell Cerberus: Indeed the Thunder's Voice,  
Though louder, yet makes a less dreadful Noise   

226.  
He hated all Men; but Himself much more  
Than all the World; and yet he knew not why.  
Alas, 'twas Hell which in his Soul did roar;  
Hell, the sworn Foe of all Humanity;  
Hell which with all the World maintaineth Wars,  
Yet chiefly with itself for ever jars.   

227.  
And in his bosom it did boil so hot,  
That he no Clothing would endure to wear:  
(Satan of old this envious Trick had got,  
To make Man's shame and nakedness appear.)  
His clothes he rend, and then plucked of his Hair,  
And stared about for something else to tear.   

228.  
When any sharp stones in the Rocks he spied,  
He culled them out as they some Gems had been;  
With which his Vengeance on Himself he tried,  
And lined it out upon his lanced skin;  
And though they pained Him, yet still to spite  
His Pains, He in his Wounds would take delight.   

229.  
Hast Thou not seen a Bull led from the stake  
Where ten keen Mastiffs had full play at Him,  
With Gore and Gashes clothed? Thence may'st Thou take  
Some aim how this bemangled Man to limm.  
Yet could not all the Dogs of Albion  
Bait any Bull, as He himself had done.   

230.  
His tattered Brows upon his eyes hung down,  
His Mouth and Nose met in one rent, his Head  
Was slashed, the bone upon his breast was shown,  
His sides were gashed, his Arms and Thighs were flayed;  
Till all his Wounds into one Confluence ran,  
As Rivers lose themselves ' i'th' Ocean.   

231.  
And wonder not that all this tedious while  
The poor Man's Life could be so hardy as  
To keep firm truce, and be confederate still  
With his tormented Heart: The Fiends could pass  
No further than their Chain, which though it reached.  
His Body, could not to his Life be stretched.   

232.  
This added to their everboyling Spite  
New fire, by which they drove and stung Him on  
To wreak his Madness on each Mortal Wight  
He met, as He upon himself had done.  
Thus all about the Coast his Terror spread,  
And Cares, and Fears, and Plots awakened.   

233.  
As when a Bear is from the Forest broke  
Into some Shepherd's Pastures, every Town  
Which round about that Region lies, doth look  
Upon their Neighbour's Danger as their own,  
And all their country Arms and Dogs unite  
Against the public Foe in common fight.   

234.  
So did the Gaderens combine their strength  
The fury of this raving Man to tame;  
Long did they grapple and contend; at length  
By number, not by power, they over came,  
And loading him with Chains and Fetters, thought  
They now their Foe had in subjection brought.   

235.  
But He with ireful Smiles, disdained their Plot;  
And tearing his vain Chains in sunder, threw  
Them at their heads: whatever Bands they got  
(For they their Project often did renew)  
Whether of Steel or Brass, they proved to him  
But Engines, which He tore and flung at them.   

236.  
Being thus fierce and fell, thy Lord he spied,  
Arrived on the shore, and to Him ran:  
He never with more hideous bellowing cried,  
Nor fiercelier beat, or cut himself, than when  
He near to Jesus drew, whose pitying Eye,  
More than all Chains and Fetters Him did tie.   

237.  
For strait His tender bowels yearned to see  
Hell domineering in a poor Man's Breast,  
Of which Himself and Heaven should only be  
By his Desire, and by all Right possessed:  
And by that Voice which lately chased away  
The other Deeps Storms, He did these allay.   

238.  
Fowl Fiend, He cried, usurp that Place no more,  
The Man is mine, and I his Lord will be;  
I charge Thee to come forth, and Him restore  
Again unto Himself, and unto Me.  
O mighty Voice! which rend the Devil more  
Than He had done the woeful Man before,   

239.  
For as the Slave who gotten is by stealth  
Into his Master's Closet, domineers  
O'rall the Bags, taking his choice of wealth.  
And all the Bonds he pleaseth, rents and tears;  
Wishing more fuel for his peevish Rage;  
And thus revenging his own Vassalage   

240.  
But if his Master's unexpected Eye  
Happens to apprehend Him in his Sin,  
Its glance, like Lightnings Dint, so peircingly  
Afflicts his thievish guilty Soul, that in  
Slavish and thankless meekness down he falls,  
And on his wretched face for pardon calls:   

241.  
So did the Fiend: believe it Psyche, were  
The whole World's dying Groans all joined in one  
Huge Gust of Horror; yet they would not tear  
The skies with such an Ejulation  
As this, which made the Tombs, & Rocks, and Sea,  
In its impatient Echo all agree.   

242.  
Jesus, thou highest Son of God most High,  
O what have I, he cried, to do with Thee!  
And must I leave my Fort, and naked lie  
Whilst Thou dost trample, and triumph on Me!  
Now by thy Father's Name, I thee conjure  
Thou damn Me not new torments to endure.   

243.  
But now thy Lord held Him sure on the Rack,  
He charged the Traitor to confess his Name:  
O how this Question did his heartstrings crack,  
Which snatched the Veil off from his ugliest shame,  
And for one Serpent which alone seemed there  
To nestle, made a Legion appear.   

244.  
No other Name he durst acknowledge now  
But Legion; for so indeed they were.  
Vile Cowards, what is Dust and Clay that you  
So numerous an Army must prepare!  
Why must so many Spirits in ambush watch  
Only one single Mortal Man to catch?   

245.  
But o that Men whose mystic obligation.  
Of mutual Membership, doth them invite  
To careful Tenderness and free Compassion.  
With such confederate Zeal and stout Delight  
Would help their Brethren up to heaven, as these  
Labour to plunge them in Hell's Miseries!   

246.  
Hadst Thou been there, my Dear, thou mightst have seen  
In what a fearful lamentable Guise  
These Devils to their Prayers fell, to win  
Some Pity from their Lords imperious Eyes;  
Which did the baseness of their spirit prove,  
Who could beseech Him whom they scorned to love.   

247.  
Him They beseeched not to send Them home,  
But in this Country let them longer stay;  
They knew Hell would have been too hot for Them  
If they had thither gone without their Prey;  
For disappointed Satan on their head  
Would all his boiling Wrath have emptied.   

248.  
Besides; this place alone in charge they had,  
And might not safely to another go:  
For Satan here his Provinces hath made,  
And all his Deputies disposed so  
That no Commission jarreth with another,  
Nor any Fiend incroacheth on his brother.   

249.  
And this He does in insolent emulation  
Of heavens fair Polity, which hath ordained  
That every Empire, Kingdom, Country, Nation  
By some of its Angelic Host be reined,  
And guided, and defended; as each Man  
By his particular vigilant Guardian.   

250.  
What wouldst Thou have Us do, they cried, Can We  
Made all of active Metal, idle sit?  
Are We not Devils; how then can We be  
For any Thing but Rage and Fury fit?  
Mischief's our proper Diet; why wilt Thou  
Who All Things feedest, not Us our food allow?   

251.  
If We must Be, We must be what we are;  
Infernal Natures can no change admit;  
For surely Thou wilt not forget that War  
When We ourselves in arms against Thee set;  
Nor repossess Us of our calmy state;  
So that we now are Furious by Fate.   

252.  
Besides; we Subjects are (and thine own hand  
Buckled that yoke on our Rebellious Necks,)  
To that impatient Prince, whose dire Command  
Backed with Hell's universal Terrors, pricks  
Us on to Rage; and we do nothing now  
But what we unto Him in duty owe.   

253.  
As than Thou art a generous Conqueror,  
Give reasonable Quarter to thy Foes:  
Since we must yield this Fort; before we stir  
Engage thy Promise that we shall not lose  
Our Natural Properties, but have power still  
(For 'tis no Crime in Us) to do some ill.   

254.  
An Herd of Swine there feeds on yonder Mount,  
(And that's it, Psyche,) filthy Beasts, and such  
As were unworthy in thine own Account  
The meanest of thy Servants Board's to touch:  
Yet what to Jew's Thou mad'st impure, shall be  
Dainties to Us, if Thou but leave Us free.   

259.  
Free, to take our own swinge, and domineer  
In those despised reprobated Things:  
If ever Devils did to thee prefer  
An humbler fairer suit, may all our Wings  
And Snakes be clipped, our Talons pruned, our stour  
Horns lopped off, our iron Teeth dashed out.   

260.  
The Furies pleaded so; and with an Eye  
Where Fear insulted over jealous Hope,  
Beheld their Judge: He knew the reason why  
They begged that strange boon; he knew their scope  
Was to make Men conceive the Swine a Creature  
Cursed and abandoned by the God of Nature.   

261.  
Yet He was pleased, whither to avenge  
The Owners Avarice, or for some cause  
Best known to his wise self; to grant this Change,  
And give them leave into the Herd to pass:  
For He to whom the whole World doth belong  
Can all Things do, and yet can do no wrong.   

262.  
As when in pregnant AEtna's labouring Womb  
The smoking flaming and sulphureous Child  
Unto its full maturity is come,  
The moved Bowels of the Mount are filled  
With Pangs and Throws, till by a monstrous Birth  
The stinking Prodigy is broken forth:   

263.  
So were the Soul and Body of this Man  
Shaked, stretched, and torn, when Hell burst out from thence,  
No brimstone ever smelled so rank as then  
The favour or that dismal Effluence:  
Surely the Man had by that stink and Pain,  
Had Life not looked on, been double slain.   

264.  
But ne'er did Air put on, a calmer face  
When every Wind to its own home was blown,  
And Heaven of all its Storms delivered was;  
Then He now once again become His Own:  
The Fiends who until now his Heart did swell,  
Left him himself within himself to dwell.   

265.  
And now, as startled from some frightful Dream,  
He wonders that Himself so safe he saw.  
With speed he gets him Clothes to hide his shame,  
Or rather theirs whose Treason made him throw  
Them off before, and cloth his Body round  
In one unnatural universal Wound.   

266.  
Distracting Fumes no more reeked in his Head;  
Clear as the upper Region was his Brain,  
And with his Heart distinctly trafficked,  
Where now his Intellectual Powers did reign;  
In his Souls Pulse his Thoughts beat gently, and  
His Bliss he Perfectly did understand.   

267.  
He understood to whom his Thanks were due,  
To Whom his Peace, his Life, his reskewed Heart;  
To his sweet Task of Gratitude He flew,  
In which with faithful Zeal He played his Part;  
And then at his divine Redeemers feet  
Like a meek Scholar, begged, and took his Seat.   

268.  
Mean while the Devils to the Mountain made  
Upon the Wings of Fury and Disdain,  
They scorned the Swine, and yet because they had  
No better Prey, could not from that refrain.  
The feeding Herd straight felt their Bellies swell  
With unknown stuffing, being stretched with Hell   

269.  
As at the Orgies, when the Priests are drowned  
In their mad God, they grow as wild as He;  
They stare, they roar, they rave, they tumble round,  
And only in confounded strife agree:  
So did the Swine break into raging Revels,  
Being Drunk with a full Legion of Devils.   

270.  
They grunt, they squeak, they foam, they run, they leap,  
They fall, they rise, and straight they fall again,  
Their tusks in one another's Blood they steep,  
But oftenest in their own: The Dogs in vain  
Did bark, in vain the Swineherd's cry and swear,  
The Herd no Clamour but their own could hear.   

271.  
At length, in one mad course, unto that Brow  
Where the steep Hill into the Sea doth peep,  
They headlong run, and one another throw  
In a tumultuous throng into the Deep.  
And thus those Devils drowned their wretched prey,  
Their own long Thirst of Mischief to allay.   

272.  
Observe that other shore: thy Spouses Fame  
Shined with no less illustrious Glory there;  
Witness Her Faith who from Phoenicia came  
To take miraculous kind of Physic here:  
She long had her Phaenician Doctors tried,  
Who not her Bloods, but Purse's Issue dried.   

273.  
But here she found a strange Physician, whose  
Sole Physic is his Sovereign Self, and who  
Gratis on all his heaunly Art bestows:  
Yet her unclean Diseases shame did so  
Confute its Pain, that it She doth conceal,  
And seeks by pious Fraud her Cure to steal.   

274.  
Her meekly-faithfull Heart had caught fast hold  
On Jesu's Garments Hemm; and o, said She,  
Could but my Fingers do as much, I would  
Not doubt to catch my safe Recovery.  
This said, the pious Thief took Heart, and stepped  
Into the Crowd, and there behind Him crept.   

275.  
There her most trembling most undoubting Hand  
To the desired Hemm she gently put,  
Which with a triple Kiss she reverenced, and  
Her meek Soul on that humble Altar set:  
But whilst her blushing Blood flushed in her face,  
She felt its other Current dried was.   

276.  
For as on Aaron's consecrated Head  
The holy Unguent would not bridled be.  
But on his Beard its precious Influence shed,  
And reached unto his Robes extremity:  
So did the Virtue of this Higher Priest  
His very Clothes with mystic Power invest.   

277.  
But Jesus, who could not permit that such  
Heroik Faith should thus be smothered up;  
Inquires what Hand his Vestures Skirt did touch,  
And set the Issue of his Virtue open;  
That Virtuous Issue, Psyche, which alone  
Could wash away, and cure Her Bloody one.   

278.  
The humble Woman guilty of the high  
And faithful Theft, fell trembling at his Feet,  
Confessing all her blessed Crime, and why  
She so had ventured to compass it:  
But while she feared her Saviour's anger, he  
Applauds the Fact, and bids her cheerly be.   

279.  
Daughter. he cries, (for those His Children are  
Whose holy Confidence on his Power relies,)  
Henceforth for ever banish needless Fear;  
Thy valiant Faith secures and fortifies  
Thy now recovered Health: Go home, and be  
Assured my peace shall sojourn there with Thee.   

280.  
Her zealous Thanks she paid, and home ward went;  
But his dear Image in her heart she bore,  
Resolved to fix it in a Monument  
Of lasting Gratitude, which she did rear  
Before her Door: and couldst Thou reach thine Eye  
Unto Caesarea, Thou mightst it descry:   

281.  
Erected there in bright substantial Brass  
Thy Spouses statue is: and so shall stand,  
Till Julian with a more obdurate face  
And Heart, than is that mettle, shall command  
The fair and reverend Image to bow down  
And yield its stately Base unto his own.   

282.  
His own; which when on Heaven it begins to stare  
Shall learn what Vengeance dwells in Jesu's Hand,  
From whence a speedy Bolt of Fire shall tear  
The proud and sacrilegious Idol, and  
Give dreadful Warning to its Owner, what  
He must expect, if he repenteth not.   

283.  
But yonder, Psyche, holy Tabor is,  
A Mount made famous by a brighter Story;  
The Temples Mount bowed down its head to this,  
And veiled its Legal to the Gospel Glory:  
To this, the Hill where Belzebub laid open  
The Universe's Gallantry, did stoop.   

284.  
Thither did Jesus once himself withdraw  
With three Attendants, Peter, James, and John,  
Leaving the rest, and all the World, below,  
That undisturbed, his Devotion  
He might perform; for his Design was now  
To pray himself, and teach his Consorts how.   

285.  
To be retired from tumultuous Things,  
And sublimated far above the Earth,  
Two trusty Ladders are, which Wisdom brings  
To help Devotion climb; two Ladders worth  
All Climaxes which ever yet were set  
Up by the loftiest strains of eloquent Wit.   

286.  
But as he Prayed, his flaming Soul did break  
Forth at his Eyes, and flashed to his own Heaven;  
The dazzled Sun immediately stepped back,  
And for his dimmer face sought some new Even:  
For Day now needed not his garish beams  
Being gilded by his Maker's purer Flames.   

287.  
Jesus, who in his Body's Veil till now  
The Rays of his Divinity had hid,  
Was pleased here to give them leave to flow,  
And roll about Him in a glistering Tide:  
Thus when his key unlocks the Cloud, from thence  
The Lightning pours its radiant Influence.   

288.  
But as the unexhausted Fount of light  
Which dwells so deep in Phebu's splendid Eyes,  
On all his royal Robes doth shed its bright  
Effusions, and his Chariot beautifies,  
So that about heavens Circuit He is rolled  
Enthroned and clothed in nothing else but Gold.   

289.  
So from thy Spouses more than Sunlike face,  
The Lustre all about his Raiment darted;  
A Lustre whose divine and gentle Grace  
Itself with kind magnificence imparted  
Unto the mortal Texture, which so pure  
And piercing Brightness else could not endure.   

290.  
Thus when a dainty Fume in Summer Aire  
To Lambent Fire by Nature's sporting turns,  
And gently lights upon men's Clothes or Hair;  
With harmless Flames it plays, and never burns  
Its habitation, but feeds upon  
The delicates of its own Beams alone.   

291.  
As the Disciples wondered at the Sight,  
Which peeping through their fingers they beheld;  
Two strangers they espied, in raiment bright,  
Which Jesu's overflowing beams did gild:  
They wistly looked upon them, musing who  
The Men might be, and what they came to do.   

292.  
The first beware horned beams (though something dim  
In this more radiant Presence,) on his face:  
Full was his beard; his Countenance was grim.  
Yet sweetened by a meek but royal Grace;  
His robes were large and princely; in his Hand  
He held a mystic and imperious Wand.   

293.  
A golden Plate he beware upon his breast  
In which the Ten great Words enameled were;  
A grave and goodly man he was, and dressed  
In such attire, that they no longer are  
In doubt about Him, but conclude that he  
Could none but Moses the Lawgiver be.   

294.  
Grave was the other Stranger too in face,  
But in his Raiment wondrous course and plain;  
He seemed to want a Mantle, (that which was  
Long since thrown off by him on Jordan's plain:)  
The serious beams which darted from his Eye,  
Spoke Eremitical Severity.   

295.  
Behind him stood a flaming Chariot,  
Whose Steeds were all of the same Element:  
〈◊〉 was their fire more than their Courage hot,  
And much ado they had to stand content.  
When they had well observed this, they knew  
Such Tokens could none but Elias show.   

296.  
These two grand Prophets, whom thy Lord gave leave  
To wear some glorious beams though He were by,  
A reverend Discourse did interweave  
Of the great work of his Humanity;  
With high ecstarick Words displaying how  
At Salem He Death's Powers should overthrow.   

297.  
A Doctrine which on the Disciples ear  
(And this their Master knew) full hard would grate,  
And therefore by these glorious Preachers here  
With high Solemnity was witnessed, that  
His Crosses and his Nails mysterious shame  
Thenceforth might not amaze or scandal them.   

298.  
Then Moses at his feet his Rod threw down,  
In token that He had fulfilled his Law,  
And came to give a better of his own,  
To which not only Jacob's seed should bow,  
But all the World, whose largest farthest Bound  
With Jesus and his Gospel was to sound.   

299.  
That done; a Veil He drew upon his face,  
And cried Bright Lord, this shade I used of old,  
Because my countenance too illustrious was  
For the blear eyes of Israel to behold;  
But now mine own have need of it, to cover  
Them with the splendour with which thine run over.   

300.  
Thine Eyes; a spectacle of fairer Bliss  
Than I of old beheld from Nebo's Head:  
How well was I, (reserved then for this  
Days nobler privilege,) not suffered  
To enter, and my Wonder feed upon  
The far less wondrous Sweets of Chanan!   

301.  
But in a generous meek Expostulation  
Elias argued with his glorious Lord:  
And why, said He, in most triumphant fashion  
Didst thou whirl Me to Heaven, and not afford  
Me leave to taste one Drop of Death's cold Cup,  
Since thou thyself resolv'st to drink it up.   

302.  
Must JESUS, and must not Elias die?  
Must God, and not a Worm? Forbid it Thou  
Who of all order art the Deity,  
And Death unto Mortality allow:  
〈◊〉 be contented with the last to stay,  
〈◊〉 till Time dies, if then I also may,   

303.  
Yet for myself, or Heaven, I would not die;  
O no; but glorious Lord, for Thee alone:  
In thy dear Cause, and for thy Name, if I  
The Robes of Martyrdom may once put on,  
My passage unto Heaven shall brighter be  
Than when my flaming Coach transported Me.   

304.  
But here thy Spouse with a well-pleased Eye  
Dismissed them both: Into his Chariot  
Elias leaped, and back to Heaven did fly  
As swift as Arrow by the Tartar shot:  
And Mose's wrapped his Veil about his Head,  
And home to Abraham's Bosom hastened   

305.  
When lo a beauteous Cloud rolled on, and spread  
Its shady Curtains on the Mountain's Top,  
In which his own Voice God had treasured,;  
And now it broke, no other Rain did drop  
But this sweet Shower: This is my Darling Son  
Hear Him, in whom my Joys do dwell alone.   

306.  
The faint Disciples on their faces fell,  
Amazed that Thunder could distinctly speak:  
Mean while their Master did his Beams recall  
And charged his Glories all to hasten back:  
His Godhead needed now no more probation,  
That Glimpse being doubled by heavens Attestation.   

307.  
Forthwith his Rays shrunk back into his breast,  
And moderate Beauty repossessed his face:  
The orient Lustre which his Clothes had dressed  
Unto their native hue resigned its place;  
And He returns to his Capacity  
Of what He longed for, Shame and Misery.   

308.  
But turn thee now to Salem ward, and see  
Yon monument of thy Lord's power and Love:  
That hill is Zion, and that Pool where He  
Doth wet his foot, is Siloam; above  
Its Bottom lies, for in the Mountain's breast  
Its Springs of living Silver make their Nest.   

309.  
Right honest are those Springs, and broke not out  
By wanton Chance, but upon Business flowed:  
What was th' occasion, and how brought about,  
Is not a Story known unto the Crowd:  
But I, dear Psyche, will unlock to Thee  
The Bowels of this ancient Mystery.   

310.  
When Hezekias here at Salem sat  
On Judas Throne, th' Assyrian Power swelled high,  
And turned sinful Israell's florid State  
Into the worst of Woes, Captivity;  
For Assur was become an Iron Rod  
Which Vengeance put into the Hand of God.   

311.  
That first Success so puffed the Rod with Pride,  
That it forgot the Hand which it did sway,  
And now would needs itself become a Guide  
Unto itself, and choose on what to pray:  
Alas, the rash Rods project soon was crossed,  
And near two hundred thousand, twigs it lost.   

312.  
Whilst Rabsheka the foul-mouthed General  
With Horse, and Men, and Brags, and Blasphemy  
Lay against Salem, on the sudden all  
Provision of Water began to be  
Short in the Town; excepting Tears, which now  
They could be spared least, most high did flow.   

313.  
This venerable Esay moved to try  
What He with Mercy, and with Heaven could do:  
He tuned his Prayer by the People's Cry,  
Which with such Violence to the Spheres did go,  
That back it bounded unto Zions foot,  
On which He kneeled, and made the Spring leap out.   

314.  
The thirsty People all came flocking in,  
Their Mouths, their Bottles, and their Potts to fill:  
Th' Assyrians wondered what they meant; but when  
They spied their business about the Well,  
They made a Party out, resolved to stop  
The newborn Spring, or else quite drink it up.   

315.  
The Citizens, themselves to flight betook;  
So did the Fountain too, and shrunk its Head  
Into the Hill, and called back its Brook,  
Commanding every Drop to go to bed:  
And not to prostitute themselves, and be  
Deflowered by Assurs Lips impurity.   

316.  
The Streams obeyed, and swifter than the speed  
Of the impatient Horsemen, homeward ran.  
So when the prudent Dame has summoned  
Her crawling Fry from the incursion  
Of Violence, the nimble Serpents shoot  
Themselves into their Mother's ready throat.   

317.  
The disappointed Soldiers raved and swore,  
To see the Fountain mock and scorn them so;  
And cried, these Jews have by some Magic Power  
Broached this weily Spring from Hell, to do  
Spite to Senacheribs strength, and show that We  
Cannot so strong as wretched Water be.   

318.  
Thus they retired in Disdain and Wrath;  
When strait the thirsty Jews came back again;  
And lo, the Spring found out its former path.  
And courteously met them on the Plain,  
Kissing their feet, and smiling in their face,  
For whose sole Service He so watchful was,   

319.  
Thus checkering his Work, he never fails  
To fail his Foes, and to befriend his Friends;  
Full often Assur tries, but ne'er prevails;  
The wary nimble Fountain always sends  
Him empty back: And yet could not refuse  
With liberal Streams to wait upon the Jews.   

320.  
Thus the Sabbatick Fount, which all the Week  
Keeps close at home, and lets no Drop spurt out;  
Exactly watches and attends the Break  
Of the seventh Day; and then, as quick as thought  
Pours out its Flood, and sacrifices all  
Its Plenty to that holy Festival.   

321.  
A Man there was, who from his Mother's Womb,  
Retired Natures dark and secret Shop,  
Into the World, but not to light, had come,  
Whose Birth did Him, and not his Eyes set open:  
Compared with Him, clear-sighted was the Owl,  
So was the evening Batt, and earthed Moule.   

322.  
For on his brow sat an anneiled Night,  
Which his Birthday could not confute: In vain  
His Mother hired the Physicians Might  
To war against that Shadow, and constrain  
That imbred sturdy Blackness to relent;  
In vain her money and her love she spent.   

323.  
Less thick the Darkness was which did revenge  
The lustful glances of old Sodoms Eyes;  
When the hot Lovers damped by a strange  
Invasion of Pitch, with Oaths and Cries  
Tumbled and tossed themselves from place to place,  
And sought Lot's Door in one another's face.   

324.  
As Jesus spied this helpless Wight, (for He  
Warched to surprise all Objects of Compassion,)  
Sped by his own heavenly Charity,  
He to his Succour flies. Such is the fashion  
Of generous Love, which never stays to be  
Wooed, and importuned to a Courtesy.   

325.  
The simple Man perceiving one draw nigh,  
Fell to the Beggars covetous Dialect,  
Craving for Money. Friend, that is not my  
Largise, thy Lord replied, which doth infect  
Those who desire it: Surely Thou wouldst find  
What Bane thou beg'st, wert thou not double Blind.   

326.  
Money is that unhappy Dust which flies  
Full in the face of undiscerning Man,  
And heaps such Mists of Blindness on his eyes  
That Heaven He cannot see: If thou didst skan  
Thy state aright, Thou mightst thy Blindness bless,  
Who seest not how monstrous money is.   

327.  
I'll make a thinner Clay than Money, which  
Shall far exceed the Worth of Gold to Thee;  
They are not moneys beams which do enrich  
The World with Light and Glory; but from Me  
Alone flow forth those clear and genuine Rays  
Which bless the Age with sweet and golden Days.   

328.  
This said; three times He spit upon the ground  
And tempered with his Hand a Sovereign Clay;  
No Salve by deepest Art was ever found  
Which could so sure all Maladies allay;  
Should precious Balsam now prove sick and die,  
This Ointment could work its Recovery.   

329.  
With this the Blind Man's Eyes He Ointed; yet  
Was pleased not forthwith to give them sight:  
First an experiment He meant to get  
Whether his inner Eyes of Faith were bright;  
Then with his Favour, to reward and grace  
The Pool, which long before so pious was.   

330.  
Bethesda Waters swelled with full-tide Fame;  
Wherefore, though apt Occasion Him invited,  
Time was when He refused to honour Them:  
But poured his royal love into this slighted  
Though worthy Pool, which as his Partner He  
In this his Miracle vouchsafed to be.   

341.  
To Siloam go, said He, and wash thine Eyes,  
And thou shalt see what I to thee have given:  
The joyful Man with holy Credence hies  
Him to the Place: No Hart was ever driven  
By scalding Thirst more greedily unto  
The Rivers, than He to this Spring did go.   

342.  
He went to drink, not with his Mouth, but Eyes,  
Which as He washed, lo, they began to open:  
Out flew black Night, and all those dusky Ties  
By which his Sense before was chained up,  
Strait his released sparkling Pupils showed  
Like sprightful Lightning from the broken Cloud.   

343.  
And now he lives, and sees that he does live,  
And Heaven and Earth more than by hear-say knows,  
Now every Parcel of the World doth give  
Him a Remembrance unto whom He owes  
His power of seeing it. O happy he,  
Who must in every Thing his Saviour see!   

344.  
Since from the Darkness of the first Abyss  
The Universe was wakened unto light,  
Ne'er was atcheiv'd so strange a Cure as this  
Which on condemned Eyes bestowed fight  
In spite of Nature, who had put them out  
Before she gave them leave to look about.   

345.  
Now Psyche turn thine Eye to yonder Town  
Great Salems' little Neighbour, Bethany;  
A place of dear Remembrance to thine own  
Beloved Lord: from Salems' tumults He  
Would oft retire into that calmy place,  
And still, as oft's He came, He welcome was.   

346.  
For there two Sisters dwelled, an holy Pair:  
Industrious Martha, who the World did love,  
Yet not so much but Jesus was more dear;  
Although the practic Trade of Life she drove,  
The Cream of her Solicitude she spent  
To purchase more than secular Content:   

347.  
Pathetic Mary, one whom Mercy made  
Her chosen triumph: This was 〈◊〉 She  
Who in the hottest Troop of Sinners had  
A leading Place; such stout Impiety  
Encouraged her Heart, that Hell could not  
Put her on any Task but she would do't   

348.  
For seven foul Devils had themselves possessed  
Of all her Soul, and with imperious Port  
In the usurped Palace of her Breast  
Their throne erected, and maintained their Court:  
What Proclamations or Warrants They  
So ever issued, she did strait obey.   

349.  
But Jesus who did square his Pity by  
No Merit he in Mortal Man could read,  
But for his Rule, took their Capacity  
Of Succour; found how much this Heart did need  
His potent Help, which He forthwith applied,  
And made her Live, who now seven times had died.   

350.  
For from the bottom of Her poisoned Breast  
seven hideous Deadly Sins she vomited;  
And having thus disgorged Hell, which pressed  
Her down so low, to Heaven she rais'd her head,  
Flaming with purest fire of Love, as she  
Before had smoked in Lust's Impurity.   

351.  
Her brave Devotion she did measure now  
By the Large Size of Mercy she had gained:  
For as that Mercy did no limits know  
So to Infinitude her Love she strained;  
She strained hard, and would have reached the Top,  
If Mortal Passion could so high climb up.   

352.  
O Psyche, hadst Thou but been by when She  
Unto her Lord upon Love's Errand came,  
Thou mightst have seen impatient Piety  
Mount in the boldness of its noble Flame:  
First at his Feet it began, and then it spread  
With fair and liberal Fullness to his Head.   

353.  
That fragrant Ointment which she used before  
To her own lustful Skin to sacrifice,  
She now on Jesu's sweeter Feet doth pour,  
And adds another shower from her own eyes:  
Then wiping them with her late crisped Tresses,  
She offers there her consecrated Kisses.   

354.  
She minds not what Spectators think or say;  
Love is secnre and careless: She does mean  
E'er from her Lover's Feet she go away,  
To oint, or weep, or wipe, or kiss them clean;  
And by this generous Zeal she Sanctifies  
Her Locks, her Lips, her Ointment, and her Eyes.   

355.  
But as the sprightful Flame disdains to stay  
Below, and with undaunted Ardour strives  
To reach its lofty Sphere: So she one Day  
The Reins unto her gallant Passion gives,  
And takes aim at the Top of Heaven; for this  
I'm sure, said she, on Jesu's Temples is.   

356.  
She had a Box of Ointment of high price,  
Yet not so precious as her loving Lord:  
Could the World's wealth meet in one Sacrifice,  
All this She freely could to him afford;  
And now unbrideled Love such haste did make,  
That strait the Box, or her own Heart must break.   

357.  
Indeed both brake; and both she poured on  
His Head, who is of Sweets and Hearts the King:  
Strait through both Heaven & Earth the Odours ran,  
Which shall for ever with their Praises ring:  
For nowed has lost its Alabaster Cell,  
The glorious Nard in all the World doth dwell.   

358.  
Thrift grumbled at the Cost: but Jesus who  
Excessive in his Love to Mary was,  
Vouchsafed her generous Soul free leave to go  
In the same princely and licentious pace:  
He knows the heats of this unwieldy Passion,  
And will allow it brave Immoderation.   

359.  
All other Passions easily bounded are,  
Because their Objects are in limits tied;  
But Love alone with infinite carrieer  
Still further everlastingly doth ride,  
Being loose at God himself, in whom  
Immensity affords her boundless room.   

360.  
Now Psyche, thou mayst easily judge how dear  
Was this Seraphic Woman to thy Lord.  
She had one only Brother, who for her  
Sake, and his own, was to his Love preferred:  
He falling sick, she sent the News unto  
Her Master, waiting what he pleased to do,   

361.  
He who had never yet his help delayed,  
When loving Mary did his Mercy woe,  
Till Phoebus twice the World had compassed, stay d  
He stayed indeed: but 'twas that he might go  
With advantageous Glory; and his stay  
Might prove but ripened Love, and not Delay.   

362.  
Mean while his Sickness so prevailed upon  
Good Lazarus, that his Soul it chased out:  
Jesus, whose eyes through all things clearly ran,  
Beheld it as it went, and saw it brought  
On Angel's Wings into the blessed Nest  
Of naked Peace, and Quiet, Abraham's breast,   

363.  
Where when it was reposed: Lazarus  
Our Friend, is fallen fast asleep, said He,  
But I intent to wake Him: Come let Us  
Delay no longer, but to Bethany.  
And, Lord what needs it, his Disciples cried,  
If Lazarus sleep, what harm can Him betid?   

364.  
'Tis true, their Lord replied; for now he lies  
Safe in the bosom of Serenity:  
Yet what his Rest is, little you surmise,  
Not knowing that in Death true sleep can be.  
Alas, all other Rest compared with this,  
Scarcely the shadow of true Quiet is.   

365.  
Death is that only sleep which puts an end  
Unto this weary Worlds tempestuous Cares,  
And pious Souls unto that Shore doth send  
Which knows no Dangers, Labours, Griefs, or Fears.  
Our friend is dead: and glad I am that I  
Was not at Bethany when He did die,   

366.  
Glad for your sakes, whose faith now dead, shall by  
His Death revive. This said, He forward went,  
And they with Him: But e'er at Bethany  
He did arrive, two other days were spent.  
He could have taken coach upon the back  
Of any Wind; but now chose to be slack.   

367.  
First busy Martha met Him, as He drew  
Near to the Town, (for when he coming was,  
The fame of his Approach before Him flew,  
Which her solicitous ears soon caught,) and as  
She threw herself upon her knees, she cried,  
Hadst thou been here, my Brother had not died,   

368.  
Dear Lord of Life, if thou hadst but been here,  
Death would have his due distance kept, if not  
For love of Thee, or Us, at least for fear  
Of his own life. And yet thy Power is but  
Deferred, not precluded; God will still  
Each syllable of thy Requests fulfil,   

369.  
Nor weep nor doubt, dear Martha, Jesus cried,  
Thy Brother shall again to life return.  
I doubt it not, sweet Master, she replied,  
But in the universal world's new morn,  
When all Things spring into fresh life, that He  
Shall with his Body reinvested be.   

370.  
I am, said He, the Resurrection, and  
The life; Whoever doth believe in Me,  
Although he be a Prisoner in the land  
Of Death, shall unto life released be:  
Nay he shall never taste of Death, who is  
Living by Faith in Me: Believest thou this?   

371.  
Here dazzled by his high Discourse, Great Lord  
She cried, my Faith doth take Thee for no less  
Than God's Almighty Son, who by his Word  
Wert promised, this cursed World to bless,  
This said, three times she kissed the ground, and home  
Made haste, to bid her pensive Sister come.   

372.  
As when the powerful Loadstone's placed near,  
Th' enamoured Iron leaps, its love to kiss:  
So Mary when she heard how Christ was there,  
Sped to meet her dearest Happiness;  
And, falling at her highest Throne, His Feet,  
Martha's Complaint, She did again repeat.   

373.  
Short were her Words, but copious were her Tears,  
Love-ravished Pleaders strongest Eloquence;  
For in her Eyes those fertile springs she bears  
Which by their ever-ready Influence  
Confirm Her Queen of Weepers: Ne'er was seen  
A more bedewed Thing then Magdalene.   

374.  
For Love though valiant as the Lion's Heart;  
Is yet as soft as the mild Turtles Soul,  
And mourns as much: knowing no other Art  
By which to slake the mighty Flames which roll  
About her Bosom, and would burn her up,  
Did not her streams of Tears that Torrent stop.   

375.  
If when the Clouds lament, the hardest stone  
Under their frequent Tears relenteth: How  
Will Mary's thicker Showers prevail upon  
The Heart of Jesus, which did never know  
What Hardness meant! He straightway melts, and by  
His Groans, does his Compassion testify.   

376.  
Then turning to the Grave, he broached his Eyes,  
And vied with Mary's streams: whither it were  
In Pity of Man's fatal Miseries,  
Who did his own Destruction prepare;  
(For neither Gods, nor Nature's Hand, but he  
Digged his own Grave, by his Impiety:)   

377.  
Or in deep grief his dearest Friends to see  
Of his Omnipotence distrustful still;  
Or in soft Sympathy with those whom He  
Of Tears and Lamentations saw so full:  
What e'er the reason were, He showered down  
Those streams for Man's sake, and not for his own,   

378.  
O Tears! you now are Perls indeed, since He  
Who is the Gem of Heaven, hath brought you Forth  
Now you may worthy of God's Bottles be  
Who from God's radiant Eyes derive your Worth:  
All holy Drops which are of kin to you  
By that Affinity must glorious grow.   

379.  
Let flinty Bosoms build their foolish Pride  
On their own Hardness, and the Weeping Eye  
As an effeminate childish Thing deride,  
And inconsistent with the Bravery  
Of Masculine Spirits: Yet truely-noble Hearts  
With Jesus will not scorn to Weep their parts.   

380.  
But He, now from the Tomb commands the stone  
To be removed, which sealed Lazarus up  
Alas, an harder Marble lay upon  
Poor Martha's Heart, which Faith's access did stop;  
Corrupted was her Mind, which made Her think  
And talk so much of Four Days, and the Stink.   

381.  
What are Four Days, that their poor intervention  
Should able be to raise a scruple here,  
And intercept his sovereign Intention  
To whom Eternity doth bow? A Year,  
An Age, a World, is no stop unto Him  
Upon whose Will depends the life of Time.   

382.  
Stinks and Corruptions no Retardments are  
To his productive Power who doth derive  
Through Putrefactions Pipes, and there prepare  
The life which to all Creatures he doth give;  
For by his Law, which knows no violation,  
Corruption Mother is to Generation.   

383.  
The Stone removed, and the Cave laid open,  
Jesus, the mighty King of Life and Death,  
With awful Majesty his hand lift up,  
And then his Voice, forming his royal breath  
Into these high imperious Words, which Earth  
And Heaven obeyed: Lazarus come forth.   

384.  
A mighty Voice indeed, which reached the Breast  
Of Abraham, where the Soul in quiet lay,  
But at these potent Summons made all haste  
Back to its own: The Patriarch, they say,  
Kissed the sweet Spirit, and entreated it  
To bear that Token unto Jesu's feet.   

385.  
But when it came into the Cave, it found  
What there the Thunder of this Voice had done;  
Shattered and scatter d all about the ground  
Lay adamantine Chains, which Death had on  
The Carcase heaped: broke was that Cloud of Lead  
Which rolled cold night about the Eyes and Head.   

386.  
The Worms were scrambling all away apace;  
〈◊〉 had into a corner got;  
〈◊〉 ghastliness had stole from off the face;  
〈◊〉 froazen Numbness frighted was, and shot  
〈◊〉 from the Corpse; Death sat lamenting by  
To sec that what He slew, must now not die.   

387.  
Heat, Vigour, Motion, hovered round about,  
Attending when the Soul her place would take;  
Which when She saw; as quick as her own Thought  
Into the Heart she flew, and did awake  
The sleeping Blood: When lo, whilst yet the sound  
Of the great Voice did in the Cave rebound,   

388.  
Out Lazarus comes. O what Amazement now  
On the Spectators seized! They start, they stare,  
They gape, they doubt, they hope, they fear, they throw  
Their Arms wide open, and divided are  
'Twixt looking upon Lazarus, and on  
Jesus by whom the Miracle was done.   

389.  
Out Lazarus comes, and yet he was fast tied  
And, in his Grave-clothes snarled: for why should he  
By these poor Ligaments be now denied  
Free passage, whom the strong conspiracy  
Of all Death's massy Chains could not compel  
A Prisoner in his Sepulchre to dwell.   

390.  
Out Lazarus comes: and full as fresh and fair  
As Summer Flowers from their Winter Bed,  
Which at their rising, through the purest air  
A daintier breath of fragrant Odours shed:  
Nice jealous Martha needs not doubt, for He  
Is now as wholesome and as sweet as she.   

391.  
But ask Me not why Jesus would call back  
His Friend, who lay composed in rest and peace,  
To this tumultuous World, which Saints do take  
But for the Scene of all Unhappiness:  
Whilst Jesus liveth here, his Friends he warms  
With sweeter Joys & Peace, than Abraham's Arms.   

392.  
Alas, 'twas Abraham's highest Wish, that He  
Might but behold what Lazarus now did find:  
How would He bless the Sight, if he might see  
Him who imparteth Eyes unto the Blind,  
Who on the Sickly Health, Peace on his Foes,  
Life on the Dead, and Heaven on Earth bestows!   

393.  
These Psyche, were the usual Works whereby  
Thy Lord did to his World himself declare:  
But in so vast a multiplicity,  
That if they all at large recorded were,  
That World's whole Bounds would not sufficient be  
To find those only Books a Library.   

394.  
And what meant these miraculous Dispensations,  
But his Affection to proclaim entire?  
Never with such illustrious Demonstrations  
Did royal Suitor seal his true Desire  
To his Queen's Heart; as Jesus here did prove  
How with all Humane Souls He was in love.   

395.  
Here Phylax closed his ruby Lips; and she  
Who all this while upon his Tongue attended  
Both with her ear and heart; was grieved to see  
His high and sweet Discourse so quickly ended;  
And yet, for what she had heard, her Modesty  
Paid Him her Maiden Thanks upon her knee,    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XI. The Traitor.  
ARGUMENT.  

IN sordid love of thick and rusting Clay  
Prodigious Judas, LOVE himself doth sell:  
But for the Pains, besides the High-Priests Pay,  
Receives a larger Salary of Hell,  
Which met him upon earth, and through his own  
Split Body, rend his wounded Spirit down.   

1.  
Envy, thou mortal bane of Quietuesse,  
And of thyself, what makes thy Rage so mad  
To play the Canker in all kind of Bliss,  
And on thine own Vexation live! A Rod  
To thine own cursed back thou art, as well  
As to the Worlds, and both thy Fury feel.   

2.  
In thy mischievous Womb was Discord bred,  
The correspondent Brat of such a Dame;  
A Brook which well becomes its Fountain head,  
And doth with equal genuine Poison stream;  
A Brook which round about the hampered World  
Its Arms pernicious Embrace hath hurled.   

3.  
This is that fatal and destructive Jar  
Which frets and interrupts the Harmony  
Wherein all Things concentricated were  
By peaceful Nature's sweet and sacred Tie:  
That Jar, which in Time's youth did belch and beat,  
Till to wild War the way wide open it set.   

4.  
War, the foul Comprehension of all  
The worst of Hell: Fell Belzebub at first  
Begor the Monster of his own proud Gall,  
From whence in Heaven unhappily it burst:  
A Birth-place how unfit for such a Birth!  
And well it was, that strait it cast it forth.   

5.  
Heaven cast it forth; but Hell received the Brat,  
And hugged it close, and nursed, and kept it warm:  
Fed there with Fire and Blood, it soon grew fat  
And strong enough to raise a desperate Storm  
In its black Nursery, which it did fret,  
And all the Devils in Confusion set.   

6.  
When Lucifer saw its Activity,  
With hellish Joy He kissed his genuine Son;  
And as He kicked his Father's Courtesy,  
And scratched his kissing Lips; this Sign alone  
Dear Child, cried He, sufficient is to prove  
Thou art my Issue, and deserv'st my love.   

7.  
Then from his own vipereous Tresses He  
Plucked a large handful of his longest Snakes,  
Of which, with poisonous liberality,  
A favour for his darling Child he makes,  
Who ever since with Joy and Triumph wears  
The hissing Discord all about his Ears.   

8.  
Thus dressed without, and furnished within  
With desperate Injunctions, a Commission  
To be sole General of every Sin,  
Of all Confusion, and of all Perdition  
He freely grants Him, and then sends Him forth  
To try what Ruins he could work on Earth,   

9  
(The cunning Serpent loved his Hole too well  
To suffer desperate War to harbour there:  
He knew that even in the Realm of Hell  
Division would the Joints and Cement tear  
Which in obedience to his Sovereign Pride  
The Peers and Commons of Damnation tied.)   

10.  
As through the bowels of deep Tellus He  
Rend open his Way, amazed Nature shook,  
Affrighted Quiet, and Serenity  
Their sudden flight to Heaven for shelter took,  
Leaving behind an universal Groan;  
Through all the World such fatal Terror ran.   

11.  
But blustering on the Fury sought where he  
Might entertainment for his Miseheif meet.  
First to the Lion's Dens he went, to see  
Whither their mighty Mouths, and armed feet  
Might not be taught to undertake a fight  
In the fell Quarrel of intestine Spite.   

12.  
The noble Beasts with generous disdain  
Looked on the Monster, and lay couchant still:  
Seeming to say, Ourselves will hold the chain  
Of our own Strength, and when We please to fill  
Our Lust with Blood, we'll hunt it up and down  
The Woods, but never riot in our own.   

13.  
Repulsed here, He made the like Address  
To Dragons, Tigers, Panthers, Wolves, and Bears;  
But they in their own Natural freindliness  
Hugged one another, and 〈◊〉 all Wars.  
The Monster vexed, and 〈◊〉 himself, to  
That savage Creatures would not disagree.   

14.  
At last, to Man he came: And who could dream  
That 〈◊〉 the softest and the gentlest Thing,  
Which heavens own careful Hand alone did frame;  
Man, who could fight for Nothing, being King  
Of all the World; Man, who unarmed was made,  
Should turn Apprentice to the Warlike Trade.   

15.  
Yet Man, the Riddle of Unhappiness,  
Unto the Monster entertainment gave.  
Mad Man, for whom a thousand Maladies  
Perpetually are digging up his grave,  
Will needs go learn a surer speedier way  
To cut that Life which posteth to Decay.   

16.  
For Cain (th' original Curses firstborn Heir)  
No sooner saw the Furies looks, but He  
Fancied them lovely, and by far more fair  
Then gentle Abel's blessed suavity.  
Unhappy fancy, whose mad violence  
Murdered a Quarter of the World at once.   

17.  
And yet that dreadful Mark, which sealed so deep  
His knawing Gild on his despairing face,  
Form his all bloody Footsteps could not keep  
Succeeding Generations; still they trace  
The cursed Tract, regardless of the Cries  
With which Blood wakens Vengeance, and the Skies.   

18.  
With unrelenting Steel they barbarise  
Their tender Flesh, or cloth themselves with Brass;  
They for Destruction proper Tools devise,  
To hasten on the fate of fading Grass;  
And unto Times not lazy scythe, their Arts  
Of Death they add, Spears, Arrows, Swords, & Darts.   

19  
And being loath that any Stay should make  
Them lose the credit of their madness, They  
Trust not their own two feet, but mount the back  
Of fiery Steeds, by whose fierce speed they may  
Fly unto Mischief, and in full Career  
And cruel Joy, their brethren's bowels tear.   

20.  
Yea though the universal Deluge by  
Washing away that bloody Torrent, and  
Those who had broached it, warned Man to see  
How little need he had to arm his hand  
Against Himself; He madly proved, No flood  
Of Water could assuage his thirst of Blood.   

21.  
O no! for He still more industrious grows  
In barbarousness; and with it taints the Heart  
Of 〈◊〉 Learning, which He daily draws  
In all his bloodiest Plots to act its part;  
Hence came those engines which so strangely spit  
Death's multiplied, and deadlier made by Wit.   

22.  
Yet these at length He counts but spites delay,  
Angry that heavens Artillery doth fly  
〈◊〉 than His; and therefore seeks a way  
To Shoot his Wrath, as doth th' enraged sky:  
Thus from his Canon's mouths the thunders roar,  
The lightning's flash, sinoak, bullets, vengeance, pour.   

23.  
No Furies can with more remorseless spite  
Rend one another's Breasts, than Man doth Man.  
Wounds, shrieks, and gaspings, are his proud delight,  
By 〈◊〉 his Prowess he doth scan;  
In Humane Blood He strives to write his stories,  
And by his Murders counteth up his glories.   

24.  
Thus mild Humanity is thrown aside,  
And Manhood takes from War its ominous name.  
Alas, and was not Manhood known, till Pride  
And envious Wrath, this salvagenes did frame;  
Till Beasts upbraided Men, who entertained  
The hellish Monster, which all they disdained?   

25.  
Were there not lusty sins, whose sturdy might  
Could have 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 been to feed  
The boldest valour of the bravest wight,  
And yield a fairer Laurel to his Head,  
Then those unhappy 〈◊〉, which smeared are  
In the thick gore of an unnaturail War!   

26.  
But ah! that blessed Combat is forgot  
In this wild Trade of fight: Sin does here  
Command in chief, and from its 〈◊〉 shut  
Whatever doth like Law and Right appear:  
And in their rooms, by whole troops listed be  
Rapes, rapine, rampant rage, and luxury.   

27.  
Shame on their Souls who love this barbarous trade,  
And by this merciless Apostasy  
Erase, and quite forget what Nature made  
Them at the first: But their Impiety  
Swells highest, Who the Name of Christian bear,  
Yet slain it in the Blood of causeless war.   

28.  
O shameless boldness! which can in defence  
Of meek Religion, put on barbarousness,  
And make the Bond of Sweetness a pretence  
To break all other yokes; which dares profess  
It fights to rescue that, whose highest praise  
Injurious sufferings always used to raise.   

29.  
The noble Army of those Martyrs, who  
To Heaven in Triumphs Chariot ascended,  
Had never learned Christ and Religion so;  
Both which they by a surer way defended,  
Drowning all opposition in the flood  
Not of their tyrants, but of their own blood.   

30.  
Nor did heavens most propitious bottles ere  
Bestow more fertile showers on thirsty Earth;  
Then streamed from those Hero's veins, to cheer  
The new sown Churches seeds, and help them forth  
Into that glorious crop, which quickly swelled  
So high, that all the wondering World it filled.   

31.  
Can others blood, their tincture be, who are  
Sworn servants to the glorious King of Peace?  
That King, who is a Lamb, and who doth wear  
Of tenderness the white and dainty fleece?  
That King whose only business and joy  
It is to save, but never to destroy?   

32.  
Into this world his foot He would not set,  
Till every sword return d into its sheath,  
Till Janu's semple with a seal was shut,  
Till Nature was restored to lead on Death,  
Till Peace's calm had paved his passage plain,  
And Men repent into Men again.   

33.  
Yet being Come, though Satan could not raise  
An open tempest to disturb his course,  
He tries a thousand secret envious ways,  
Patching with cunning his defect of force;  
He lends fresh malice to the pevish Jews,  
And in the Highpriests heads his Plots he brews.   

34.  
Annas and Caiaphas resolve to try  
How they their glories may assert, which now  
They more and more beheld eclipsed by  
The reverend lustre which from Christ did flow,  
Upon whose flames, if nothing else will do,  
Rather than fail, they his own blood will throw.   

35.  
Phylax thought fit a while to dwell upon  
This story with his Pysche; wherefore He,  
After convenient Refection,  
Bids Her sit fast; and yielding then the free  
And long desired reins to his hot Steeds,  
Quick as the wind to Salem ward he speeds.   

36.  
There, over Zions head, he pulled back  
The Bridle: straight his docile Coursers knew  
The language of his Hand, and began to slack  
Their pace, and in a semicircle flew;  
For by one wing they with the other fought,  
And damped their course by wheeling thus about.   

37.  
Then lighting on the Hill, their mains they shaked,  
Their heads they lifted high, and then their voice:  
The bottoms at their mighty Neighing quaked,  
And from their Caverns all flung back the noise:  
But straight as Phylax began to speak, the Steeds  
Sealed up their Mouths, and humbled down their heads.   

38.  
Though, Psyche, thy dear Lord himself endeared  
To all this World by those sweet Miracles,  
(And millions more than them) which thou hast heard,  
Said he, yet so importunate was Hell's  
Invidious clamour in the Jewish ears,  
That all heavens Words and Works it overbears.   

39  
And now the thicker Wonders Jesus does  
More Articles against himself he draws;  
The shameless Judges turn his mortal foes,  
Forgetting Right's, and urging Envies Laws;  
And in black Envies impudent esteem  
No crime so foul as Piety doth seem.   

40.  
But how this Malice brought about her end,  
And raised herself to that transcendent Pitch  
Of monstrousness, which never any Fiend  
With all the wit of Hell, before could reach,  
Is worth thy hearing: Come, sit down, and I  
Will pump this Venom forth before thine eye.   

41.  
Before Hell's yawning mouth, a Cave there is  
(The little emblem of that greater Realm)  
The native house and home of Avarice,  
Who in her craving thoughts doth overwhelm  
The universe, and, whatsoever she gains  
As lean and hungry as before remains,   

42.  
If any thing but Money coming be,  
The door is always deaf; for its strange ears  
Can apprehend no noise or harmony  
But Monies chinking; which as soons it hears,  
It flingeth open its mouth as wide, and fast  
As Tigers, when their prey to them is cast,   

43.  
Six yellow springs before the threshold rise,  
Infected by that House's neighbourhood;  
Which creeping far through earth's close cavities  
Pour out their wealthy but most dangerous flood  
On the condemned World, devouring there  
More than in stormy Seas e'er drowned were,   

44.  
Indus and Ganges rolled in the East,  
Pactolus in the middle of the Earth;  
But Tagus undertook to taint the West  
And spewed in Spain his glistering poison forth.  
Rich Hebrus chose something more North to be  
And broke his way through Thracian Rhodope.   

45.  
Plate stole into the other World, that He  
Might to some pains and cost put Covetousness;  
But when her thirst grows hot, impatient she  
Shall scorn th' Atlantic Ocean, and press  
Through unknown Monsters to find out that stream  
Which yet shall not quench, but augment her flame.   

46.  
The structure of the House is mean and poor,  
And calls with many a mouth for Reparation:  
The Clouds, when e'er they weep, do freely pour  
Through every rotten room an inundation;  
The Winds come whistling at their pleasure in;  
And every kind of Wether there will Inn,   

47.  
A thousand Stilts and Props their shoulders set  
Against the Walls; where many a Wisp and Rag  
Into the weatherbeaten Wounds were put:  
Such is the Thrift of the old carking Hag,  
Her Houses Fall she ventures, but to spare  
The simple Cost even of a patched Repair.   

48.  
Within lie Trunks and Chests along the Walls  
Piled to the roof on one another's backs,  
Guarded with iron hoops, and brazen nails,  
And strongly fortified with triple Locks,  
As if indeed some Treasurer's shrines they were,  
When only yellow Clay lay sleeping there.   

49.  
There lay all that the famous Lydian Prince  
Had raked up by his numerous Victories:  
Unhappy Croesus! who at such expense  
Of pains and time, purchased so poor a prize,  
Which, as a load, upon his Life was thrown,  
And when He died, pressed him deeper down.   

50.  
There lay the Phrygian Kings unwieldy Mass  
Of wretched Gold, whose rich Wish made him Poor,  
Whose wealthy Privilege his Confusion was,  
And famished him amidst his growing Store.  
Sure for that Wish he more deserved those Ears  
Which by the Poets acquaint Revenge he wears.   

51.  
Next them, the other Phrygians Talents, who  
By Pagans verdict is condemned to thirst  
Amidst the streams which on his lips do flow.  
Unfortunate Tantalus, how wert thou cursed  
In life with Treasures which Thou couldst not use  
In death, with Dainties which thy Mouth abuse!   

52.  
The cursed Heaps of stern Callicrates  
Were there, who by Exuctions Hand did rake  
Them up, and make th' Athenian Miseries  
The Fountain of his Richnes'; who did break  
The Laws in lawless Urging Them, that He  
Owner of what He could not keep might be.   

53.  
The stuffed Coffers of rich Cinyras  
Which by his Cyprian Plenty He did fill,  
Were there-congested in huge throngs; so was  
The Wealth of Gyges, which so high did swell  
That it alone sufficient might seem  
To choke or burden Millions more with Him.   

54.  
The teeming Bags which Pelops brooded o'er,  
The Wealth which Crassus upon heaps did heap,  
Dariu's brave inestimable Store,  
Here in their several Sepulchers did sleep;  
So did great Pharoabs, into whose vast Barn  
A Crop of Gold was brought, for that of Corn.   

55.  
whatever Rapine, Fraud, Oppression, Lies,  
Distrustful Greediness, vexatious Care,  
Had snatched, stole, polled, or scraped, to suffice  
What could not filled be, was crowded there:  
Little think Men that all such Riches will  
Find their way home, and with their Plutus dwell,   

56.  
Nay here that vast accumulation lay,  
Which dares call every other Treasure poor,  
That Wealth which did the golden Age display  
When Solomon the Crown of Israel wore,  
He who disgraced Silver so, that it  
Like vulgar stones was kicked about the street.   

57  
Wise as He was, that King well understood  
That amongst all those huge Vacuities  
Which puff the World up with their frothy Flood,  
Even massy Gold must counted be; which lies  
Men in more fruitless Care than any Thing  
That Fortune rolls in Vanities fine Ring.   

58.  
Alas as here in all its strength it lay  
Immured in thousand Chests, it could not by  
Its power or its value keep away  
Vile Rust and Cankers, which eternaly  
Did d well and feed upon it; nor could all  
Those mighty Locks forbid their Festival.   

59  
But howling round about the woeful Room  
Were those unhappy Souls whose Thirst of Gold  
Had plunged Them in this eternal Doom;  
Souls which to their own Bags themselves had sold,  
And bought their Prison, from whose Misery  
Their useless Store could no Redemption buy.   

60.  
His mystic Wand old wrinkled Balaam broke,  
And flung his wretched charms about the floor,  
Cursing the day when He to Balack took  
His voyage for vile love of Money, more  
Than Heaven and Truth; and crying oft, Why was  
I with my Wit, less Wise than my plain Ass!   

61.  
There wretched Achan roared, himself to see  
So gorgeous in his Babylonish Cloak:  
Besides, to make him rich in Misery,  
Deep in his heart his golden Wedge was stuck;  
And his two hundred silver shekels cast  
Into a Clog, about his feet held fast.   

62.  
There cursed Ahab with eternal Fright  
Seemed to see Naboths Ghost flash in his face;  
Whose guiltless blood quite quenched that Delight  
With which the Vines should have inflamed his Glass:  
Nay every causeless Stone which had been thrown  
On Naboths head, rebounded on his own.   

63.  
Gehazie there, as white with Leprosy  
As he with guilt was odious and black,  
His double Change of Garments hates, which he  
Can for his stinking Soars no Cover make,  
And still he starts, and thinks his Master's eye  
Doth Him, and his two Syrian Talents spy.   

64.  
There Dives rends his purple Robes, and flings  
Away the bitter Sweets of his old Feasts,  
Cursing his own, but blessing his Dog's Tongues  
Which were so courteous to the poorest Guests,  
Kissing and Licking Lazarus Soars, whilst He  
With 〈◊〉 Rail grieved his Poverty.   

65.  
But this Room only was the Portall to  
The Chapel, whose poor Architecture was  
Of equal Vileness, had its Roof not so  
Been skrew'd up, as to yield convenient space  
For State and Majesty to stand upright,  
And let the God appear in his own height.   

66.  
Hast Thou not heard how upon Dura's Plain  
Nabuchadnezzar made his Ovens wrath hot  
At those who feared Hell's Furnace, and the stain  
With which Idolatry their Souls would blot,  
When he erected sixty Cubits high  
The Mountain of his golden Deity?   

67.  
The Copy of that Idol hence He took,  
For in this Temple its Original stands;  
Such is the massy Head, such is the Look,  
Such are the Legs, the Breast, the Arms, the Hands,  
Such is its monstrous bulk, and such the beams  
With which its pure and burnished Metal flames.   

68  
His Name is Mammon, and although he be  
So dead a Lump, that aid he cannot lend  
Unto himself; yet to his Deity  
Almost all living Men do couch and bend:  
heavens King with all his Powers of Love & Bliss  
Works upon Humane Hearts with less Success.   

69.  
Both those who see, and those who have no eyes,  
Are by his splendour equally invited;  
For Both are Blind, when they begin to prise  
His worthless Worth, and find their Souls delighted  
With the bare contemplation of Money,  
Which is their Thirsts Milk, & their Hunger's Honey.   

70.  
Thrift, that most slandered Thing, pretended is  
By almost every Age and Tribe of Men;  
Who all enamoured of this glistering Bliss,  
After the Call of Monies chincking run;  
And tainted with th' immedicable itch  
Of heaping Riches, ne'er think they are rich.   

71.  
Before the Image both the sick and well,  
The Rich, and Poor, the Young, and Aged lay;  
Active and hot was their Devotions Zeal  
Disdaining any Respite Night or Day,  
And mortifying with hard Penance what  
Soever Mammon's Laws allowed not.   

72.  
About it's shadowed feet grew a thick Crop  
Of every kind of Sin which taints this Earth;  
Fruits, which those fond Devoto's gathered up  
As fast's the poisoned Roots could bring them forth:  
The Golden Crime this certain Privilege wins,  
That it is always rich in other Sins.   

73.  
In other Sins; and in the righteous Curse  
Which is by Vengeance tied eternaly  
Unto the never-satisfied Purse:  
For still those Cormorants are tortured by  
Vexatious Cares, and Fears of Want, the more  
They are encumbered with their growing Store.   

74.  
That Store, which with such tyrannising Awe  
In endless bondage holds their Souls, that they  
With any of those golden Streams which flow  
Upon their Lips, durst not their Thirst allay;  
But rather antedate their Hell, and learn  
Betimes in everlasting Drought to burn.   

75.  
The Priest which waits upon this Deity  
Is full as ugly as its self is fair:  
The raving wallowing Maenades would be  
Spruce handsome Ladies, if compared with Her;  
So would the rankest Witch that ever yet  
Disfigured was in any Magic Fit.   

76.  
Age bends her looks towards that Earth, in which  
Uncessantly to delve, is her delight:  
As are the backs of bunched Camels, such  
Is Hers, and full as well agrees with Weight;  
All Load is light to Her, if but one Grain  
Of intermixed Profit it contain.   

77.  
Her Face all over's ploughed up with Care,  
And long and deep the wretched furrows be;  
Her hollow Eyes quite damped and dazzled are  
By glaring on her glistering Deity:  
Her sallow Looks, and shriveled parched Skin  
Confess what Pains she takes about her Sin.   

78.  
Her Nails she never cut, but let them grow  
Up with her Wealth, for Scraping was her Trade:  
No greedy Vulture could such talons show,  
Such dreadful Claws no Harpy ever had:  
These were the Engines with which she did break  
Earth's Bowels open, and the Centre rake.   

79.  
A putrid Mantle tied about her Waste  
Was all the Robes she would herself allow,  
Which she had found upon a Dunghill cast  
A thousand years ago; and which was now  
Nine hundred Times new Patched; yet would not She  
At the least cost of a new old one be.   

80.  
Nine stuffed Pouches on a leathern Thong  
Crowded about her miserable Loins;  
With these, of massy Keys two Bunches hung,  
The Memorandums of her treasured Mines.  
Which Keys she twenty times a day would tell,  
And reckon what under their Locks did dwell.   

81.  
Patrocles was to Her, a generous Knight,  
And made his board the Scene of Lavishness:  
When she with Dainties would herself delight  
Some old wormeaten Root her Banquet was;  
And when at most her Fare she did enlarge,  
She would in Salt be at an whole Mites charge.   

82.  
But planted deep in her unhappy breast  
Is the black Root of all her monstrous Cares,  
Fowl Infidelity, which bids her cast  
About how to withstand what her vain fears  
Make terrible, and build her Trust upon  
No Power or Providence, but her own alone.   

83.  
Besides th' Ideas of her Gold which lay  
Peeled there in cursed heaps, did rusty grow:  
This Rust, its dwelling turned into its Prey  
And on her heart incessantly did knaw:  
Yet was her Idol unto her so dear,  
That for more Money, she more Rust would bear.   

84.  
This Hag was Avarice; whom Satan held  
Almost as dear, as He thy Spouse did hate:  
Upon her Power He alone did build  
His final hopes to bring about his great  
Design of Malice, for He knew that She  
Could do much more with Men, than Heaven, or Herald   

85.  
Unto her house himself in person came,  
And, with all condescent of Courtesy,  
Wiping aside the Sulphur and the Flame  
In which his royal Lips did use to fry,  
Saluted Her, who never until this  
Occasion, from her King obtained a Kiss.   

86.  
This Favour ravished her so deep, that She  
All his Injunctions did with Joy receive:  
First taking her Commission, on her knee,  
(Which thrice she kissed) and then her hasty leave,  
To earth she posts; where she finds out a Cell  
Almost as helish as her native Hell.   

87.  
For to Iscariots' breast she took her way,  
Which foolish He left open without a Guard:  
With all her venom in she rushed, and lay  
Close in the bottom of his heart; full hard  
It was e'er she intruded in, but now  
No stone can such proofs of its Hardness show.   

88  
Those Words of potent Sweetness which did drop  
From Jesu's blessed Lips, could Winds, and Seas,  
And Sicknesses, and Devils bridle up,  
And every Storm, but Judas his appears.  
O that Man should that only Monster be  
Which is too hard for Mercies Suavity.   

89.  
As He who boiling Lead has swallowed down  
Feels himself all on fire, and thinks that though  
A thousand Seas into his Cup were thrown  
They could not quench his drought: So Judas now  
Perceived his impois'ned bosom fry  
In covetous Thirsts impatient Ardencle.   

90.  
Millions of Thoughts are raging in his breast,  
And every one of them is all on fire:  
He scorns, and hates the Poverty of Christ;  
No other Bliss but Gold he does desire:  
Talk not to Him of penniless Piety;  
What e'er it cost, he must have Gold, or die.   

91.  
But yet this only Poison did not swell  
His heart; Another joined in the plot.  
Deep in the very Sink of lowest Hell  
Is situate a dreadful gloomy Grot;  
A Grot which there in ambush seems to lie  
Hatching the Eggs of all Conspiracy.   

92.  
And yet within, a goodly House is built  
Muchlike the Palace of some Virgin Queen:  
With acquaint Designs the Frontispiece was gilded,  
And the whole Fabric looked like Beauty's Scene.  
White Marble were the rich Materials,  
And yet the Workmanship outshined the Walls.   

93.  
What full Balconies, stately Terraces,  
〈◊〉 Antics, fair Compartments, handsome Cants,  
〈◊〉 Freezes, and neat Cornishes,  
Brisk and well-order d Turrets! Nothing wants  
That Art could give to make the Outside fine;  
Yet still the House is gallanter within.   

94.  
The double Door with open lips invites  
All Strangers to come in: The Porter there,  
Well learned in all complemental Rites,  
Bids them kind welcome with his vocal cheer;  
He smiles, he bows, he fawns, he knows the Name  
Of all the Guests, and in he ushers them.   

95.  
The Hall with silken Carpets all is spread  
To court the Strangers feet with soft delight;  
The dainty Roof is arched over head  
With chequered Roses red, and Lilies white;  
Delicious Odours roll about the room  
Sweet entertainments unto all that come.   

96.  
But at the upper end, upon a Throne  
Of moderate Height, sits crafty Treachery,  
A Fiend more old than Hell itself, and one  
Whose face would of her age clear witness be  
Had not Art intervened, and taught her how  
To make false spring upon true Winter grow.   

97.  
Old Jezabells lank and wrinkled Cheeks were not  
So out of shape as hers; yet she had found  
A Paints hypocrisy for her faces Blot,  
Which with a youthful verdure clothed it round:  
No Valleys did appear, but either Cheek  
With beauteous Politure was plump and sleek.   

98.  
And though a thousand envious Frowns lay hid,  
Her outward Aspect wore a gentle Guise;  
Loves, Joys, and Smiles, wear sweetly marshaled  
About her Lips, her Forehead, and her Eyes:  
Brave judith's glances less alluring were  
Which conquered her Country's Conqueror.   

99  
Her Tresses, which indeed were Knots of Snakes,  
She overlayed with soft and dainty Hair;  
Whose waving circling Net of Amber takes  
Spectators Hearts, as well's the sporting Air,  
And works as many valiant Wonders, as  
The mighty Locks of Samson brought to pass.   

100  
An olive Branch in her right Hand she held,  
And in her left a wreath of Roses, but  
The wreath within was all with Nettles filled,  
The smiling Branch with lurking shorns beset:  
For this was she who could teach Peace to fall  
To Massacres, and make Sweets flow with Gall,   

101.  
Her Robe of state flowed low beneath her Feet;  
For, such they were esteemed while they lay hid:  
But she had neither Feet nor Legs; a great  
And knotty Tail was sweeping in their stead;  
A tail which she about her round could wind,  
And hug and kiss the sting she beware behind.   

102.  
The Siren thus above the Water is  
As soft and smooth and clear a Nymph as she;  
But her Catastrophe of Monstrousness  
Lurks un derneath with wise Hypocrisy:  
For though not all the Sea can serve to wash  
It off, each Wave can hide the ugly Fish.   

103.  
When e'er she speaks, a flood of honey flows,  
And with her breath, a cloud of Odours breaks;  
Yet in her Mouth a Crop of Poison grows,  
Under her Lips a Nest of Adders makes  
Its cursed abode; her Tongus a mortal Spear,  
And all her Teeth invenomed Arrows are.   

104.  
But in her desperate bosom treasured lies  
The fatal Pith and Marrow of all Hell;  
Distractions, Tumults, Wars, Spites, Injuries,  
Confusions, Tortures, Deaths. O who can tell  
The Monsters of that black Abyss, wherein  
There is full Room for the whole Sea of Sin!   

105.  
Her choice Attendants stood about her Throne,  
Fairfaced Peace, and buxom Courtesy,  
Freehearted Friendship, mild Compassion,  
Neat Compliment, and golden Flattery,  
Nimble Officiousness, large Promises,  
Deep Oaths, false Truths, deceitful Faithfulness:   

106.  
Sweet angel-faced Things, restored Laws,  
Reformed Religion, rescued Liberty:  
For such the fondly-credulous World, which knows  
Not what a Vizard means, takes Them to be,  
Admiring for an heavenly Spirit of Light  
The masked Monarch of Infernal Night.   

107.  
But at her back, behind a Veil, did lie  
A 〈◊〉 which she esteemed more than these;  
Thefts, Rapines, Scoffs, Reviling, 〈◊〉,  
Plots, Poisons, Covenants, and Conspiracies,  
Right-down Rebellion, Murdering of Kings,  
And all that Ruin and Subversion brings.   

108.  
Beyond this Veil, an Iron Door did lead  
Through a long Entry stuffed with fire and smoke,  
Into a Dungeon replenished  
With every Shape of Horror, whose fell Look  
With everlasting fright tormented all  
The Prisoners which into that Pit did fall.   

109.  
Grief lived in triumph there, and all the Pains  
Professed Excess: the language of the Den  
Was Signs, and Groans, and noise of tumbled Chains,  
Cries, Yell, Curses, Blasphemies of Men  
And God, eternal Seizzing raised by  
The Souls and Bodies which in it do frie.   

110.  
There might you see upon cain's guilty face  
A deeper Mark than God upon it set,  
His innocent Brother's Blood, which scallt the place  
On which it lay: His treacherous breast He beat,  
And now with truer Reason cried, my Pain  
Is greater than my Patience can sustain.   

111.  
No longer now He feared to be slain,  
But wished to meet another Lamech, who  
Might rid him of this dying Life: In vain  
He gnashed his teeth; In vain he cursed his Woe,  
And Him who chained Him in it: For his Grief  
Sung now beneath the region of Relief.   

112.  
There 〈◊〉 lay tearing off her Hair  
To think of Samsons which her Falsehood cut:  
The Withes and Ropes not half so sturdy were  
As those which now her Treason on her put,  
Those Chains, which bound her to her endless Rack,  
Stronger than Samsons sinewy Arms could break.   

113.  
There lay fierce Joab, with his woeful hand  
Upon his fifth Rib; for the treacherous Wound  
He thought he sealed so sure on Abner, and  
On Amasa, did on himself rebound:  
Just David's legacy, and his Sons Command,  
Sent him this Vengeance by Benaja's Hand.   

114.  
Insidious Rechab, and Baanah there  
With everlasting Horror seemed to see  
The righteous Head of Ishbosheth appear.  
And check them with their traitorous Villainy:  
How gladly would They, to buy off their Pain,  
Give both their Heads, that His were on again!   

115.  
There hung rebellious Absalon by the Head  
Not on an Oak, but on a fiery Tree,  
Whose Boughs of Torture round about him spread,  
And shadow d him with flaming Misery:  
Three Darts stuck in his double Heart, and made  
Way for the stinging Worm which there doth feed.   

116.  
His Tongue its Popular Blandishments forgets,  
by which it stole the People's Loyalty;  
And nothing now but pois nous Curses spits:  
This made great David, whose religious Eye  
Descried his desperate State, be so extreme  
In pitying and in lamenting Him.   

117.  
There Ziba detestation heaps upon  
That fawning Lie by which He did obtain  
Upright Mephibosheths' Possession,  
From which he reaps this crop of endless Pain:  
There Shimei rails on his own Railing, who  
Had poured his Curses on his Sove reigns Woe.   

118.  
The Pride of ready Wit Ahithophell  
With all his Plots about his Halter tied,  
Hangs there: and now the famous Oracle  
No Answers gives, but hideous Roars, and wide  
Yell, that He who had betrayed his King  
Himself more madly to these Flames did bring.   

119.  
There Zimri howled for grief that He was more  
With Treason drunk, than Elah was with Wine,  
And now more raging flaming Tortures bore,  
Then when his Palace all one fire did shine.  
For Zacharies death there Shallum wailed in vain,  
Who in his Sovereign, his own self had slain.   

120.  
These, and ten thousand Traitors more were there;  
For deep and large the woeful Dungeon was,  
Having for all their Heirs full Room to spare,  
Choice Room, for Those to whom the highest place  
Of most profound Damnation was due,  
The Christian-seeming Traytorous-being Crew,   

121.  
That Crew, whose several Stalls were ready built  
Of burning Brass, and all in order placed  
(According to the merit of their Gild)  
About a Seat, whose Canopy was graced  
With Flames of Sovereign dreadfulness, a Seat  
Wide gaping for the Prince designed for it.   

122.  
For 'twas the Throne that was designed for Him  
Whom Jesus would have crowned King above:  
But Judas in an heavenly Diadem  
Would nothing find which might oblige his Love;  
Hell had aforehand seized his Heart, and He  
Resolved was to 〈◊〉 his Misery.   

123.  
For Satan now unto this Palace came  
As to the Den of Avarice before;  
When she beheld her Sovereign Lord, the Dame  
Rose from her Throne and met him at the door,  
Where falling on her face, she asked what  
Brought his high Majesty to her low Grot.   

124.  
His red hot 〈◊〉 Sceptre Satan here  
Reached fortn for her to kiss, in sign of peace;  
Then siniling on her answering face, Most Dear  
Of all my Fiends, said He, my buis'nes is  
The greatest that I ever undertook;  
Which if it fails, this Sceptre must be broke.   

125.  
'Tis true, time was, when I, and Thou, did make  
A brave Adventure in the face of Heaven,  
When at our Courage all the Spheres did quake,  
And God was to his utmost Thunder driven;  
His Throne did tremble at our rival Might,  
And, had our foot not slipped, all had gone right.   

126.  
But that Misfortune is too poor to break  
The strength of our immortal Pride: Forbid  
It, all my Hell, that Belzebub should make  
Truce with that Tyrant which disherited  
Him of his starry Kingdom: No; I may  
Perhaps be beaten, but will ne'er Obey,   

127.  
I am resolved to find Him work as long  
As He and his Eternity can last:  
My Spirit never must forget that Wrong  
Which Me into this Dungeon did cast:  
He now has done his worst, and I can be  
But still in Hell, should He still conquer Me.   

128.  
Full well I know his Spite: Had any place  
Been worse than this, He would have damned Us thither:  
Yet He, forsooth, must be the God of Grace,  
Of Pity and of Tenderness the Father:  
And silly Men believe Him too; But We  
No reason have befooled so to be.   

129.  
Yet be He what He will to Men; to Us  
He is a sworn and everlasting Foe:  
And is't not just, He who maligns Us thus,  
Should find that Devils are 〈◊〉 too?  
I would not wrong Him; yet I must not by  
Respect to His, clip mine own Majesty.   

130.  
No: my brave Will He never yet subdued,  
And I am now too old to learn to bow.  
Upon my youth his 〈◊〉 strength He she wed,  
Yet tender as I was, himself doth know,  
Even than I yielded not: And shall this Arm  
Now grown all brawny, not revenge my Harm?   

131.  
It shall and must: my Confidence beats high,  
For now our fight on evener ground shall be;  
He from his slippery Heaven is come, and I;  
Will as sure footing have on Earth, as He:  
Besides, should We miscarrv, We are there  
Near to our Hell, and no deep Fall can fear.   

132.  
And yet to make all sure, I hold it best  
By secret Treason to unlock the way  
Unto our Conquest: Do but Thou assist  
My Plot, and let Fate, if it can, say nay.  
How oft when Ramms in vain have pushed the wall,  
Have cunning Undermine made it fall!   

133.  
Come let's away with hate to Christ, I burn  
More than with all my Kingdom's Flames: I swear  
By my bright Mother the unspotted Morn,  
(A fairer Virgin than his Mary far,)  
By both my Horns, my Sceptre, and my Crown,  
That I will win his Blood, or lose mine own.   

134.  
The cursed Souls within all heard Him swear,  
And clapped their flaming hands with damned Joy,  
Hoping that now some fresh Companions were  
Designed for Them: The Gates of Hell gave way,  
Earth split into a mighty Gap, and He  
Ascended, with his Handmaid Treachery,   

135.  
Then having melted both Himself and her  
Into the lap of the next Wind he met,  
He shely flew to Judas Bosom, where  
In with his breath, he unperceived got.  
Thus other Plagues infuled in the Air  
Steal to the Heart, and breathe their Poison there.   

136.  
As when a Tyrant hath usurped a Crown,  
The Arms and Ensigns of the rightful Heir  
He blurs, and tears, and pulls his Statues down,  
And doth their places for his own prepare,  
Leaving no Sign to make the People dream  
Of any other Sovereign but Him:   

137.  
So Satan played his part in Judas breast:  
All characters which were engraven there  
Of his liege Lord and only Sovereign Christ,  
His mighty Miracles, his loving Care;  
His heavenly life, and Doctrine, he defaces,  
And every line of Piety erases.   

138.  
Then, by the help of those two Fiends which he  
Had there confederated. (Avarice  
The Mother of all Mischiefs, Treachery  
The ready Midwife,) He erecteth his  
Black Standard in th' Apostates wretched Heart,  
And thence his Conquests spreads to every Part,   

139.  
And Judas now breathes nothing else but Hell  
Whose fumes are tumbling all about his brain;  
With plots of spite and rage his breast doth swell,  
And with Contrivances of cursed Gain.  
No Fury ever hatched such Thoughts as He,  
Nor brought forth such portentous Villainy.   

140.  
O Avarice, how flat Idolatry  
Is thine, who dost vile rusty Wealth prefer  
Before the King of heavenly Majesty,  
Whose beams then all thy Gold more golden are?  
Who canst adore what Cankers feed on, Who  
Canst hug base Silver, and let Jesus go!   

141.  
Judas, the Slave of Gain, resolves to sell  
His most inestimable Lord; whom He  
Should rather keep, his thirsty Soul to fill  
With all the Riches of Eternity:  
But Avarice his Heart doth so bewitch,  
That He will sell Heaven, only to be rich.   

142.  
His Chapmen are the Priests; for They who had  
Betrayed the House of God to Merchandise,  
Will make no scruple to extend their Trade,  
And count God saleable: But in the Price  
They thrifty are, and beat their market low;  
But Thirty silver Pieces They'll bestow.   

143.  
Fie sordid Caiaphas, and Annas, fie;  
Your Law cties shame of this unworthy Rate:  
Consult your Books, and they will not deny 
Levit. 27. 3.   
But even the meanest Man is valued at  
No less than fifty shekels: and will you  
For God and Man, no more than thus allow?   

144.  
Does Jesu's Godhead make Him of less worth  
Than is the vilest He that breathes your Air?  
Bid but like Chapmen; bring your Treasures forth  
And buy the precious Wares your Offer square.  
O could you purchase Him indeed, the Prize  
Would make You rich in all Felicities.   

145.  
But thou, improvident Judas, since Thou art  
Resolved to sell a thing whose value is  
Beyond the power of Arithmetic Art  
To reckon up; proportionate thy price  
In some more near degree: let thy Demand  
Make Buyers, who this Christ is, understand.   

146.  
Ask all the gold that rolls on Indus shore,  
Ask all the treasures of the Eastern Sea,  
Ask all the Earth's yet undiscovered o'er,  
Ask all the gems and Perls which purest be  
Ask Herod's Chequer, ask the Highpriests Crown,  
Ask Caesar's mighty Sceptre, and his Throne.   

147.  
Ask all the Silver of the glistering Stars,  
Ask all the Gold that flames in Phebu's eyes,  
Ask all the Jewels of Aurora's Tears,  
Ask all the Smiles and Beauties of the Skies,  
Ask all that can by any Thing be given,  
Ask Bliss, ask Life, ask Paradise, ask Heaven.   

148.  
Trade not with these, the worst of Chapmen, who  
So foully underrate thy Merchandise:  
To John, to Peter, or to Andrew go,  
Who better are acquainted with the price  
Of their unvaluable Lord, and see  
What They will for their own Bliss offer Thee.   

149.  
Try what the Virgin-Mother will bestow  
For Him whom She holds dearer than her Heart:  
Proclaim thy Market unto Heaven, and know  
Whether the Angels will not gladly part  
With more than Thirty silver Pieces for  
Him, whom with prostrate faces They adore.   

150.  
Alas, though every Sin be Blindness, yet  
Hell knows no Crime so full of Pitch as this,  
Nor doth the Sun of humane Reason set  
In any Night so black as Avarice:  
A thicker than Egyptian Darkness now  
On Judas intellectual Eyes did grow.   

151.  
Urge Him no more with Sense and Reason; He  
Resolves to traffic with the Priests; for now  
No other God but Money he can see,  
He nothing sees at all, and cares not how  
He makes his Bargain with them, so he may  
Have but this wretched Sum in ready Pay.   

152.  
Thus Jesu's Wisdom did contrive to show  
The mighty Patience of his Goodness; who  
Though from heavens Glory his bright Self he threw  
Into the Arms of Dust and Shame, that so  
Man's cursed Seed He might Redeem to Bliss,  
By false ungrateful Man betrayed is.   

153.  
And now the Chink of his adored Coin  
Sounds in his Purse, the Traitor hasts to be  
As good's his wicked Word, and is in pain  
Till He bring forth his hired Treachery:  
He thinks it an unworthy odious Crime  
To cheat the Priests, who thus had trusted Him.   

154.  
O aenigmatick Wickedness! That He  
To whom his Heavenly Masters precious Love  
Could seem no Bond of Faithfulness, should be  
By this so vile obliedgment Bound, and prove  
Faithful unto his Foes! This, Psyche, this  
Even to thy Phylax a dark Riddle is.   

155.  
So strange a Thing is Man's mysterious Heart,  
No Angels eyes can through its secrets run;  
To sound this Bottom, is the Sovereign Art  
And privilege of God himself alone:  
A certain proof that the Heart's hidden frame  
Only from his immediate Fingers came.   

156.  
The caitiff therefore, lest his Plot should fail,  
And Hell's long expectation be prevented,  
Begged some Assistance, that he might assail  
His Prey with surer Treason, and indented  
For a full Band of Men: The Priests were glad  
To see the Man so resolutely mad.   

157.  
A Troop they had all of Commanded Men,  
Whose hearts were Iron, and their foreheads Brass:  
No Boars or Tigers ever could outrun  
Their fury, when their aim at Mischief was:  
They might have passed for Sovereign Monsters, but  
For their fell Masters; and Iscariot.   

158.  
Some armed were with churlish Clubs, and some  
With keen and thirsty Swords, but all with Spite:  
With these at's heels did Captain Judas come,  
Resolved to slay, but yet afraid to fight:  
Treason was evermore a Coward, and  
By Number, not by Valour, doth contend.   

159.  
The Ensigns which before the Troop did go,  
Were wary Lanterns, or bold Torches, which  
Their glaring and unnatural Beams did throw  
About the Midnight Aire; whose shades by such  
Unlooked for Apparitions frighted, fled  
Behind the Hills and Trees to hide their head.   

160.  
Thus having marched over Cedron, They  
To yonder Garden came, too sweet a place  
To be this Mischiefs Scene; but yet his Prey  
The Serpent, as thou know'st, of old did chase  
In sweetest Eden; and Iscariot, who  
Followed his Steps, could none but this way go.   

161.  
Thy blessed Lord with his Disciples, there  
Retired was, and set himself to Pray:  
When lo, a Spectacle of greater fear  
Marched full against his single Face, than They  
Whose armed impatient Spite was drawing nigh  
To sacrifice Him to all Cruelty.   

162.  
A black and labouring Cloud hung o'er his head,  
In which his Father veiled his gracious Eyes;  
Yet through that Blackness his great Arm He spread  
And reached it down to Earth; From angry Skies  
The Lightning never with such terror broke  
Nor Thunders Trump the hills and valleys shook.   

163.  
For in his Hand a mighty Cup He held  
In which all Monstrous Things did boil and flame:  
Up to the brimms vast circle it was filled  
With all the World's excrementitious Stream,  
Which Vengeance kindling with her fiery breath,  
Had turned into the Ocean of Death.   

164.  
That universal Poison whose black flood  
From Adam's veins through all his Race did run,  
Met in this Sink, and joined with the Brood  
Of every singular Transgression:  
All which, to fit the Cup, were blended in  
The several Pains due to each several Sin.   

165.  
Had 〈◊〉, had Phlegeton, had all that Wit  
Has feigned, and all that Justice made in Hell,  
Had all the Flames which Aetna's mouth doth spit,  
Had all the Stinks which in the Dead Sea dwell,  
Had all the Poison of each Serpent's Tongue  
Which Lybia breeds, into the Cup been wrung,   

166.  
T had been a Draught of Nectar, unto this:  
Yet lo the monstrous Mixture to the lip  
Of thy sweet Lord by heavens Hand reached is.  
O Psyche, how shall He digest this Cup,  
Which, had all Adam's Sons been forced to drink,  
It would have drowned them in its fatal Sink.   

167.  
But well He knew the Hand which loved his Cheek  
When in all Blisses Bosom He did lie:  
And though so strange an Offer it did make,  
'Twas still the same; and how can he deny  
To entertain what that presents him, though  
The Cup with Horror's own heartblood did flow?   

168.  
Were it as wide, and deep, and full again,  
This Thought alone commands it to be sweet;  
And, till He drink its Pangs, He is in pain,  
So large is his Obedience, and so great  
His Love to Man, who otherwise must be  
Drunk from this Bowl with endless Misery.   

169.  
But then this Thought was justled by another;  
For He himself was passive Flesh and Blood;  
His proper Nature's Voice how shall He smother!  
For She now pleads aloud for her own good,  
And would not willingly choose to be hurled  
Into that Gulf which would devour the World.   

170.  
O how he struggled in this mighty straight  
Being Himself with his own Self to fight!  
Had all the Centres most compacted Weight  
Been pitched upon his Heart, it had been light  
And easy unto this, which woeful He  
Endured in this heroic Agony.   

171.  
The Contestation grew so hot within  
That all his Bosom fell on flaming fire;  
And from melting Furnace, through his Skin  
Thick Proofs of that strong Fervour did transpire;  
For at the Mouth of every labouring Poor  
Not Watery Sweat, but Blood broke open its Door   

172.  
O matchless Combat! whose mysterious Power  
Without the edge of Sword, or point of Dart,  
Could clothe this Champion round about with Gore,  
And wound Him from within; whilst every Part  
Racked and transfixed with intestine Strains  
In streams of purple Tears bewailed its Pains.   

173.  
Down to the Ground this sweeting Torrent flows  
To wash away the Curse which on it grew;  
Whilst moated in his melted Self, thy Spouse  
The noble fight doth with fresh Strength renew:  
His Mortal Nature three stout Onsets gave.  
To his immortal Piety, and Love.   

174.  
Father, He cried, by that thy tender Name,  
Commiserate thy most afflicted Son:  
If thy Omnipotence a way can frame  
How to exempt Me from my Passion,  
O let thine Hand, which brings this Cup to Me,  
Far hence remove, it, and my Misery.   

175.  
But strait, by most athletic Bravery  
Above himself He gets, and nobly cries,  
Although all Bitterness triumphant be  
In this sad Cup, it amply does suffice  
That from thy Hand it comes: Thy Will shall be,  
And not mine own, the Rule and Rein to me.   

176.  
Thus reverend Abraham, when by God's Command  
He was to bathe his Sword in Isaac's blood,  
Divided was in his own bowels, and  
With his brave Self in competition stood;  
Till valorous Piety her Powers strained  
And the hard Laurel of Selfe-conquest gained.   

177.  
But when thy mighty Lord achieved had  
This triple Conquest; Judas and his Rout  
Like furious Boars into the Garden made,  
And for their Prey all ranged and roved about;  
Not knowing He as ready was to be  
Betrayed, as they to work their Treachery   

178.  
For like a most victorious Champion, who  
Before his other Foes, has conquered Fear,  
He meets their Fury; ask, Whom with so  
Eager and strong a Chase they hunted there.  
Their traitorous Spite, and whom it sought, He knew,  
Yet this brave Challenge in their face he threw.   

179.  
Jesus of Nazareth We seek, said they,  
Alas, Blind Souls, He came to seek out you,  
And lead you safely in the King's high way  
Unto his Throne above, that on your brow  
heavens Crowns for ever might have shined; but ye  
In nothing would be Found but Treachery.   

180.  
Nor they, nor Judas, Psyche, now did know  
Thy Spouses face, which flamed heretofore  
With gracious Beauty; but was clouded now  
With his strong Agonies all bloody Gore.  
Thus like some dusky Meteor Phoebus shows  
When an Eclipse upon his Countenance grows.   

181.  
But He who would not be unknown to those  
Who came to suck what Blood was left behind,  
(Which burned in his Veins, till it got loose,  
And flowed as largely as his liberal Mind,)  
Revests his Look with graceful Majesty,  
And makes this brave Profession, I am Herald   

182.  
If ever Thou hast seen what killing Dread  
Doth on base-hearted Traitors seize, when They  
Are by their awful Prince discovered,  
Whose Voice, and Looks, their spurious Courage slay;  
Treble this Fright, and then conceive what Fear  
Shot through the Souls of these vile caitiffs here.   

183.  
A stream of Horror drove them trembling back,  
And over whelmed Them flat upon the Ground:  
And in the depth of this dismaying Wrack,  
Their shivering Spirits had been surely drowned,  
Had He not spread his Pity over Them,  
Whose Swords, and Staves, and Spite all made at Him,   

184.  
O how will they endure his Dreadful Eyes,  
Which all this World on flaming fire shall set,  
When He in triumph sweeping through the skies,  
Shall hither come, and mounted on his great  
Tribunal, once again cry, I am He,  
No more the Prey, but Judge of Treachery.   

185.  
When they no Lanterns nor no Torch's Light,  
Nor Judas Conduct any more shall need;  
But by our Trumpets death-awakning fright  
Be summoned up, and by our hands be led  
Into the presence of heavens glorious Son,  
Whom then they would not find, but cannot 〈◊〉   

186.  
But now He bridled in his awful Rays;  
And, on condition his Disciples may  
Without disturbance go their several 〈◊〉,  
Offers himself unto his Foes, who lay  
Quaking before Him: but took courage now,  
Perceiving They again might 〈◊〉 grow.   

187.  
As when a serpent bruised and beaten back,  
Spies any way to reinforce her fight,  
Her head she raises, and deep care doth take  
Her Wrath and Poison how to spit aright:  
So did these Elves start up, and cheer their Head  
(And this Iscariot was,) to do the Deed.   

188.  
Iscariot, that Prince of Treason, now,  
Forgetful of his royal Master's Love,  
And of the Dint of that majestic Blow  
Which struck Him and his Army down; to prove  
His cursed Self Earth's Lucifer, led up  
Against the Lord of Hosts his desperate Troop:   

189.  
And then, none but a golden Arrow shot  
Burnished with fair and complemental grace,  
Yet in as mortal Venom dipped, as that  
Which Eve's Heart felt, when she saluted was  
By faire-tongued Hell, and by the Tempter driven  
With courteous Treason from her earthly Heaven.   

190.  
Hail Master, was the Word: What Ear could now  
Disrellish such a sugared Noise as this,  
Or once suspect Discording Jars should grow  
In such soul-plying Accents! Master is  
The Phrase of Service; Hail, of Love: Yet He  
Could make these honest Words, insidious be.   

191.  
And when his faithless Tongue her part had done,  
His Lips succeeded in the Treachery:  
With matchless Impudence He ventured on  
Against the very face of Majesty;  
And, to make sure his Project should not miss,  
Sealed it upon his Master with a Kiss.   

192.  
O Wit of Treason! could no Sign but this,  
The gentlest Token of soft Courtesy,  
Be made the Mark of deepest Barbarousness!  
Monstrous Iscariot, how dost thou, by thy  
Inhuman Kindness, both a Traitor prove  
Of Love's great Master, and the Badge of Love!   

193.  
Is not a Kiss, the soft and yielding Sign  
Which clapps the Bargain of Affection up:  
The sweet and joyous Marriage between  
The tenderest Pair of Lovers, Lip, and Lip:  
The closing Harmony, which when the Tongue  
Has done its best, completes the pleasing Song?   

194.  
Is not a Kiss the most delicious Seal  
By which Friends Cement their concording Hearts!  
Must this Betrayed be! Must faithless Hell  
Poison this dainty Truth! Must Hatreds Arts  
Be clothed in the softest sweetest Dress  
Of courteous Peace, and amorous Tenderness!   

195.  
Must sweet Arabia's Beds breathe out a Stink,  
And harbour all the Bane of Thessaly!  
Must milky Lilies slain their Leaves with Ink!  
Must Roses Buds with Thorns all prickly be!  
Must Silk and Down be harsh! Must Honey flow  
With Gall! Must Summer Gales bring Ice & Snow.   

196.  
O what will Treason not presume to do,  
Which more than all those strange Mutations makes  
In this own venturous Fact of Judas; who  
Even in this Tie of Love, all Friendship breaks;  
Who biteth with his Lips, not with his Teeth,  
And strives to Kiss his dearest Lord to death.   

197.  
But though Iscariot his own Love betrays,  
His Lord triumphs beyond all Treachery,  
And doth against the Traitor's Hatred raise,  
A Counterwork of heavenly Lenity:  
O Mystery of Love! though Jesus may  
Betrayed be, no Plots his Grace betray!   

198.  
Who teacheth all Succeeding Traitors how  
To burnish over that foul rankling Brass  
Of impudence which arms their sullen Brow;  
To tip Rebellion with meek Lies; to grace  
Their arrogant Treaties with submissive Words,  
Whilst at their Sovereign's hearts they aim their Swords.   

199.  
He called no Lightning from the Clouds, or from  
His potent Eyes to flash on Judas face,  
And throw on his bold Lips that flaming Doom  
Which due unto their odious Treason was:  
He charged not Earth her dreadful Mouth to open,  
And on the hellish Kisser close it up.   

200.  
O no: With heavenly Tenderness He cries,  
Friend, wherefore art Thou come? Strange Miracle  
Of gentle Patience! Who can comprise  
Thy blessed depth! Upon the face of Hell  
Shall the sweet Name of Friend be printed by  
Him who beholds, and feels its Treachery!   

201.  
Is foul Ingratitude, plain Apostasy,  
Right down Rebellion, now become a friend?  
Or rather, is not this Disciple by  
His cursed Revolt, transformed into a Fiend:  
And will his wronged Lord by none but this  
Dear Name revenge his most envenomed Kiss!   

202.  
O Psyche, Jesus tortured was to see  
Judas, himself into all Torments throw;  
And by this Charm of noblest Lenity  
Back into Heaven endeavoured him to draw:  
He knew Love's Cords were strong, and from his Crime  
By these he strives to hale & rescue Him.   

203.  
Why art thou come, thus to betray thy Friend?  
Why art thou come, with Arms against a Lamb?  
Why art thou come, all Bonds of Love to rend?  
Why art thou come to fight for thine own shame?  
Why art thou come with this strong Preparation  
For thy Lord's death, & for thine own Damnation?   

204.  
Thy Kiss I in its natural Language will  
Kindly interpret, and make my Reply  
In the same Dialect, if thou wilt still  
Embrace my ever faithful Courtesy,  
And yield that Bliss may in thy heart have room;  
Say then, my Friend, say wherefore art Thou come.   

205.  
Thus did the Prince of sweetness plead and woo:  
But the deaf Serpent stopped his cursed ear;  
In's heart the Thirty Pieces chinked so  
That He no other Harmony can hear.  
When lo, the Soldiers, knowing now their Prey,  
On jesus fell, and haled Him away.   

206.  
For love of Thee, and all his other Brides  
Thus, Psyche, was thy Lord content to be  
Sold at so vile a Rate, and Mocked besides  
Even by his own Disciples Treachery.  
Shrink not, if thy near Friends abuse thy love,  
Since Gods own Favourites so faithless prove.   

207.  
And let the World by this one Copy learn  
That hellbred Boldness is not strange, or new,  
By which most Fostered Favoured Creatures turn  
Flat Enemies, and lead an armed Crew  
Of Miscreanrs, with bloody Impudence  
Against the Powers and Person of their Prince.   

208.  
But when no mercy could the Traitor win  
To entertain his Pardon, Vengeance made  
Haste to pour out herself upon his sin:  
For Satan, who his heart possessed had,  
His Treason in his proper Coin repaid,  
And the Betrayer fatally betrayed,   

209.  
Into a Corner of the Garden, where  
Thoughtful disconsolate Night sat thick and black,  
She crowded him alone; and having there  
Prepared and fitted her infernal Rack,  
With studied fury, not his Body, but,  
His captivated Soul on it she put.   

210.  
For by the beams of their own hellish Light  
Unto Iscariots intellectual Eyes  
Herself She did display. Excessive Fright  
The Traitor's wretched Heart did straight surprise:  
Each Joint and Member quaked and sweat, and He  
Felt in this Garden too his Agony.   

211.  
He saw fierce Beizebubs sulphureous face  
Flaming with swarthy fire; His Horns he saw  
Mounted high on his head with dreadful grace,  
Which his erected snaky Hair did knaw:  
He saw his adamantine Nails and Paws,  
His steely Teeth, his brazen gaping Jaws.   

212.  
He saw the Tempest of his flaming Breath  
Which swarthy Volumes spread of stinking smoke:  
He saw the windows of eternal Death  
Flung open in his staring Eyes, whose Look  
Slew him alive: He saw his Iron Mace,  
His burning feet, and his enraged Pace.   

213.  
He saw his forked Tail in triumph thrown  
Upon his shoulder, and his ireful Brow  
With cruel scorn contracted in a frown:  
Rampant implacability he saw  
In every Gesture, and did plainly read  
The full Description of Immortal Dread.   

214.  
When lo, stern Lucifer threw out his hand,  
And by her Throat his woeful Conscience took:  
And now, he cries, I'll make thee understand  
What thou hast chose, and what thou hast forsaken:  
Look on this dainty Pair of Damsels here,  
Who more than Heaven, and God, to thee were dear.   

215.  
Just at the word He opened to his view  
The horrid Carkaise of foul Avarice;  
And fouler Treachery, not in her hue  
Of borrowed Smiles, and outside Comeliness,  
But in her naked native Filth: and then  
Shaking his Horns and Paws, He thus went on:   

216.  
Maddest of Fools; how many Hell's dost Thou  
Deserve, who with such Hags couldst fall in love,  
When Jesus wooed thy Heart? Well, take Them, now  
The hast paid so dearly for Them; They will prove  
Sweet Brides, and preciously adorn thy Bed  
Which in the Bottom of my Realm is spread.   

217.  
If any Part at all there be in Them  
Which is not horrid, may my Sceptre break,  
And may my royal Tongue no more Blaspheam:  
For once, I tell Thee true, and Thou mayst take  
The Devil's Word; There are few Furies who  
In monstrous ugliness, thy Wives outgo.   

218.  
And was thy Lord so vile a Thing, that He  
Might not with these in Competition stand?  
Did those unthankful Eyes of thine e'er see  
A face enriched with such pure Beauties, and  
Majestic Graces, as in his did shine,  
Making Humanity appear Divine?   

219.  
Most stupid Sot! How often hast Thou seen  
Divinity from His great Hand break out!  
How oft might plain Omnipotence have been  
Read in the Miracles He daily wrought,  
Casting forth all my stoutest Fiends! Yet Thou,  
(And here He beat the Soul) to Me wouldst bow.   

220.  
Nay never howl; 'tis but the Earnest, this,  
Of what's to come: Thou needs wouldst bow to Me:  
To Me, of whom that Christ the Conqueror is:  
He threw Me down from heavens Sublimity  
Into that Pit of Pangs, where I am now  
The damned Sovereign of such as Thou.   

221.  
Hadst not as good have bowed unto Him,  
Whose Yoke Thou wouldst have lighter found than mine?  
I tell thee Judas, I am but a grim  
And rugged Lord; what Prizes once I win,  
Infallibly for evermore shall fry  
In Torments bottomless Extremity.   

222.  
And is my Hell, my everlasting Spite,  
My unrelenting Fury, so much worth,  
That Paradise, and Heaven, and Jesus might  
Not find acceptance? Brings Damnation forth  
Such strong Temptations? Can eternal Bliss  
Not woo, and win as potently as this?   

223.  
Sure Hell and Death, are gallant Things, and I  
Cannot allow Thee them, until Thou hast  
Through all Contempt, and Hate, and Infamy  
Which Salem, or the World can yield thee, past:  
That Preface shall, for that eternal Smart  
Which gapes & longs for Thee, prepare thine Heart.   

224.  
Go then the Ages Blot and Monster, go,  
Let every Mouth spit on thine hated Head,  
Let every Tongue thick Curses on Thee strew,  
Let every Hand be armed to strike Thee dead,  
Let every Eye abhor thy baleful Sight,  
Let all the World revenge thy Traitorous Spite.   

225.  
Let Heaven frown on Thee who betrayest its Son,  
The Lord of Life, to Death, thy Saviour to  
Most sure most undeserved Destruction:  
Into one Bolt let all Gods Thunders go,  
And on thy cursed Heart his Justice throw,  
Which scorned all the Mercy He could show.   

226.  
That Stroke will send Thee down into thy Place  
Of Death, but yet of never-dying Pain,  
Where melted with the flames of this my face  
Thy thirty silver Pieces I will drain  
Into thy Heart, that Thou mayst shriek and rote,  
Whilst there they burn and boil for evermore.   

227.  
This said; th' infulting Prince of Tyranny  
In scornful Spite withdrew, being confident  
Maturity would get her Wings and fly  
To overtake his Plot: yet e'er he went  
seven times he threshed the Conscience with the flail  
Of his enormous poyson-pointed Taile.   

228.  
As when the Deluge in great Noah's time,  
Broke out upon the World, and with a Sea  
Of universal Woe surprised the Crime  
Of that impenitent Age; their Misery  
To those unhappy Mortals opened their graves  
In Desperation first, then in the Waves:   

229.  
So Judas, taken in this mighty flood  
Of deepest Anguish, had no power to think  
How to escape, or that his Saviour's blood  
Might drown that sea in which he feared to sink.  
O no! the thought of that dear blood alone  
Poured on his face Guilts blushing Ocean.   

230.  
Since long ago his Trust He rather built  
On Money, than on God; he durst not hope  
That Mercy now could reach his heightened guilt;  
And thus by fear, to impudence set open  
The way, for by this dread of goodness he  
Gives flat defiance to its Lenity:   

231.  
And now sees vengeance aiming at his head,  
And his foul Treason flying in his face;  
He sees the whole World's anger marshaled  
Against his odious crime; He sees the place  
Deep in the heart of Hell, where damned He  
Designed is for evermore to be.   

232.  
With that, his clothes, his Hair, his Flesh, he tore,  
He roared, he raved, and thus to cursing fell:  
May that unhappy day be read no more  
In any Calendar, but that of Hell,  
Which to this baleful Life did me betray;  
A Life to living Death the dying way.   

233.  
Cursed be my Father, who did me beget;  
Cursed be my Mother who did me conceive;  
Cursed be my Nurse, because in every Bit  
She mixed not Poison, which might Me repreive  
From this most damned Night; And cursed be  
All sicknesses which would not murder me.   

234.  
Cursed be this Hand of mine, which oft has had  
A Knife, and yet forbore my throat to cut;  
Cursed be these Feet, which oft their way have made  
Over the brows of Precipices, yet  
Would never stumble, that I might have fell  
Then but to Earth, who tumble now to Hell.   

235.  
Cursed be that Day which me acquainted brought  
With Jesus, and enroled my ominous Name  
Amongst his Chaplanes: Cursed be that thought  
Which spurred me to the Priests to trade with them;  
Cursed be the project which hath cursed me so,  
Cursed be the Bargain, and the Chapmen too.   

236.  
Cursed be this Garden; upon every bed  
May fatal Hemlock, Woolfbane, Poppy, grow:  
May Vipers, Adders, Basilisks be spread  
In every corner; on each Tree and Bough  
May Ravens and Scritchowls' dwell, that something may  
Resemble Judas here another day.   

237.  
Another day! o no! may thickest Night  
Upon this Scene of Treason ever dwell;  
That neither Sun nor Star may reach their light  
More unto this, than to the other Hell.  
The bloody beams of Ghosts and Furies will  
With fittest lustre this black garden fill.   

238.  
But may the deepest of all Execrations  
On you, my thirty silver torments, fall:  
How shall I be revenged on your temptations  
Which thus have drowned me in a Sea of Gall?  
Is there no way, base, pale, and paltry Clay,  
How I may you, as you did me betray?   

239.  
Shall I take you along with me to Hell,  
And hold you fast amidst my endless flames?  
Or send you back unto your former Cell,  
The High-Priests wicked Bag? surely this seems  
The blacker and the deeper Pit, and I  
Thither again will damn you instantly.   

240.  
This said: Like that tormented Man, in whose  
Possessed heart a Legion of Fiends  
Did tyrannize; He to the City goes,  
Where in the Temple he his Chapmen finds:  
Unhappy Temple, which was now Possessed  
With them, as was with Satan Judas Breast.   

241.  
With hideous yelling he amongst them ran,  
Flinging about his hands, his head, his eyes;  
And having strained his ejulation  
Wide as his throat could reach, O Me! he cries,  
My sin burns in my breast, and domineers  
Too high to hope for quenching from my tears.   

242.  
No Expiation does that Altar know  
Which for my deep died guilt can satisfy  
The stream of Jesu's blood so full doth flow  
On my unpardonable Soul, that I  
Am drowned for ever in my deep offence,  
Being Condemned by his Innocence,   

243.  
Take your vile Money and my Curse with it,  
May all heavens wrath your bloody Bargain crown  
Here with indignant fury having spit  
On Them first, on his Silver next, and thrown  
It at their hated Heads; away He flung  
Raving and Cursing as he ran along.   

244.  
For all the way he thought he struggled through  
An Army of reviling Detestations:  
Over his head he both his Arms did throw  
To sheild it from his own Imaginations,  
Through which from heaven and earth such arrows flew  
As wounded Him at every stop a new.   

245.  
For Melancholy, dark as is the Pitch  
Which on the throat of Hell so thick doth grow,  
Choked every glimpse of Sense and Reason which  
Offered to dawn in his Souls sphere, and show  
Him by what torturing Mistakes he had  
Himself unto Himself a Tyrant made.   

246.  
Thus came He to a secret silent Place  
Without the Town, yet could not think it so;  
For still he fancied all the City was  
Hot in the chase of Him 〈◊〉 Saviour's Foe:  
Each Bird or Fly that moved, made him start,  
Each Wind that puffed, blew quite through his heart.   

247.  
His Eyes distracted were, first looking up  
For fear least Heaven should fall upon his head;  
Then down, least Earth her dread full Mouth should open  
And snatch him to his grave e'er he were dead;  
Till tired with this fear, his breast he struck,  
And into right down Desperation broke.   

248.  
Adieu all hopes, he cries, and fears adieu:  
Come Veng ance, come, my heart is ready here.  
I see how vainly I my Money threw  
Back to the Priests, whose burden still I bear;  
The Rust sticks close and heavy still upon  
My knawed Soul; and I must be undone.   

249.  
If Heaven be just, why does it yet delay  
To pour its Wrath on my deserving head?  
Am I not Judas, He who did betray  
Its only Son? Is not my Conscience red  
With his most innocent Blood; and yet must I  
Be still endured to live, when He must die?   

250.  
At least, great Satan do not thou deny  
Thy Servant Pay for this grand Work which He  
Hath compassed with unparallelled Treachery  
In high obedience to thy Hell and Thee:  
No Soul did ever more than I have done,  
Nor ernd a gallanter Damnation.   

251.  
Didst Thou not promise Me but even now  
The dearest Torments of thy deepest Hell!  
Deceive me not again: If ever thou  
Wert careful of thy Credit, now fulfil  
Thy bounteous Word; or look no more to be  
Served by Man, if thou reward'st not me.   

252.  
Come then; burn up these Lips, which learned of thee  
Their kill Kiss: Dash out these Brains which thou  
Taught'st how to project that fell Treachery;  
Tear this cursed Carcase: which is wholly now  
At thy disposal, that each Limb may feel  
No portion, but the total Wrath of Hell.   

253.  
Take this despairing Soul, and let it be  
The Prey of thy eternal Furies: 'tis  
No groundless Challenge, that, as due to Me,  
I claim the utmost of thy Spite; unless  
Thou hast thine infinite Debt to Me forgot;  
Jesus and Heaven into thine hands I put.   

254.  
Jesus and Heaven; Names which I now must hate  
As having made them my eternal Foes:  
O how I long to be in that free state  
Where generous Blasphemy no Bridle knows;  
Where I may Rage as loud's heavens Thunders 〈◊〉  
And, being cursed, curse for overmore.   

255.  
Here the full Tide of fury stopped his Throat;  
Yet still He stared and struggled with his Grief,  
Still he tore off his hair, his Breast He smote,  
And through Self-tortures hunted for Relief:  
His Tongue He bit because it would not speak,  
And stamped the Earth which would not open break.   

256.  
But as the Hair, the Fat, and Pitch, which were  
Into the Dragon's throat by Daniel cast,  
Did burn, and boil, and rage, and tumble there,  
Far more than in the Pot; until at last  
With most impatient swelling Toiments They  
〈◊〉 through his monstrous belly burst their way.   

257.  
So did this Mixture of Grief and Dispair  
Flame in Iscariots' bosom, till it grew  
So strong and big, that all his Entrails were  
Conquered with Tortures, and in sunder flew;  
His Body split, and through that cruel Wound  
Poured his more barbarous Bowels on the Ground.   

258.  
Thus from this Prison his black Spirit ran  
Into that blacker Jail reserved for it,  
Next to the Centre of Damnation,  
Where now it raves in chains at Satan's feet,  
Ensoreed the poisonous flames he spews, to drink  
O that all Traitors w old of Judas think!    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XII. The Banquet.  
ARGUMENT.  

TO seal his dear Remembrance safe, and sure  
On the soft hearts of his selected Sheep,  
Love institutes his parting Feast, so pure  
So sweet, so rich, that Psyche raped by deep  
Desire at its Description, sues to be  
A Sharer in that Board's Felicity.   

1.  
BUt o, how large a Name is Treason, which  
Doth in another fatal Channel run,  
And from this Universe's Cradle reach  
Down to its funeral Pile: No Ocean  
E'er stretched its Arms so wide, or spread such store  
Of shipwrecked Mortals on its helpless shore.   

2.  
And this Self-treason is; an imbred Fiend  
Whose business is to undermine her Home;  
Whose most unnatural Nature is, to rend  
Her too too loving Dames unhappy Womb;  
Who knaws herself, and with 〈◊〉 Spite  
Free Vengeance takes on Luxuries delight.   

3.  
For she herself is Luxury; a Weed  
Which grew at first in an unlikely Place:  
Who would suspect that such a cursed Seed  
Should Paradise's blessed Plants disgrace!  
Yet, as the Serpent in those Beds did lie,  
So did this full as venomous Luxury.   

4.  
Under the beaureous Tree of 〈◊〉 there,  
〈◊〉 found her first, and saw her 〈◊〉 up  
With 〈◊〉 Zeal and restless Pains, one 〈◊〉  
But dangerous and forbidden Fruit to crop:  
Fool as she was, she helped her up, and knew  
Not that by it herself she downward threw.   

5.  
Yet She to Adam needs would her commend,  
And He, unkindly courteous, could not  
Deny to hug his Spouses seeming friend,  
Who Death and Hell straight through his bosom shot,  
And now the Dainties of all Paradise.  
Could not his foolish appetite suffice.   

6.  
No; He must taste of that which never was  
Designed to bless the Palate: But the Sour  
Revengeful Fruit was quit with Him; for as  
It in his Teeth did stick, with all the power  
Of stupefaction them on edge it set,  
Proving his fatal Torment, not his Meat.   

7.  
Nor could He choose but leave his wretched Heirs  
Th' inheritance of this enchanting Pain;  
Which down through all his Generations stairs  
Failed not its propagated Bane to drain:  
This hankering itching liquorishnes did run  
Hot through the Veins of his remotest Son.   

8.  
Which Fervour did betimes so furious grow  
That the old World on fire with Lust it set:  
A fire which with the heat of Hell did glow,  
And was as stinking and as black as it;  
A fire, which joined with other sins, grew stout,  
And found the Deluge work to quench it out.   

9  
But than Earth's face being washed clean and white,  
She smiled on Heaven with a wellpleasing Grace;  
And God vouchsafed humane Appetite  
A full Commission over all the Race,  
Of Birds, of Beasts, of Fish, that He might see  
How abstinent Man would prove, now being free.   

10.  
For generous spirits than do most abstain,  
When they are Lords of their own Liberty;  
When Virtue is entrusted with the Rein,  
And room is given for Self-victorie;  
When high-strained Moderation may prove  
No Act of Duty, but a Work of Love.   

11.  
Man's Appetite to every thing was free,  
Bating the Blood, in which the Life doth swimm:  
Blood is the tincture in which Cruelty  
Stains all her clothes; a tincture for the grimm  
And savage Tigers; not for Man, who is,  
Or should, Professor be of Tenderness.   

12.  
Indeed good Noah, who both Worlds had seen,  
The Old and New, and was more Worth than both,  
Endeavoured to keep himself as clean  
As now the Earth was washed; And that no sloth  
Might tempt and steal him into Luxury,  
Buckled his Bones to painful Husbandry.   

13.  
And that the Pains He in his Vineyard took  
Might be requited by the Fruit it bore,  
He shed the Grapes into his Bowl; whose Look  
Might well have been his Monitor to beware:  
Its ruby die, had He but understood,  
He would have shunned this Liquor too, as Blood.   

14.  
But, as it smiled and sparkled in his face,  
And moved with generous fervour in the Cup,  
The un-suspicious Saint invited was  
With equal cheerfulness to drink it up.  
So, untried Pleasures by their daintiss skin  
And sweet behaviour, approbation win.   

15.  
The flattering Liquor, as it downward went,  
Knocked at his Heart, and easy entrance got;  
Where with his Spirits it did compliment,  
And soft delicious Fire amongst them put.  
Noah rejoiced to feel his bosom glow,  
And his old Age's Ice begin to thaw.   

16.  
This Bait drew down another: for, alas,  
Good Man he little knew that Treachery  
In his Soul-cheering Cup infused was;  
Or that his Wine which sparkled, e'er would be  
Destructive flame: But Embers often rise  
Into Combustion, when We least surmise.   

17.  
He freely takes a second Draught: and now  
The Liquor gathered strength and grew more bold;  
Impatient to be suppressed below,  
Up to his Head it found a way, and rolled  
About his Brains, wherein there began to swimm  
Such thickening Clouds, that Reason's Sun grew dim   

18.  
And then infected with the poisonous Sweet,  
Alas no power was left him to abstain:  
No more to quench his Thirst, but that New Heat  
Which burned his veins, He takes his Bowl again;  
Which to the brim in careless haste he fills,  
And part on th' earth, part in his mouth he spills.   

19  
But now He Drunk no more; the Wine Drunk Him,  
His Sense, his Judgement, and his Soul, and all;  
(For thus, when in their own wild Draughts they swim,  
Our witty Language Men does Drunken call)  
And did so thoroughly his Brain confound,  
That Earth, as well as Heaven, He thinks turns round.   

20.  
The Wine now sparkles in his eyes no less  
Than it did in the Bowl before: He stairs  
On every thing, and yet he nothing sees;  
He trips, and staggers, but no fall he fears,  
Nor feels it when he falls; for having let  
His Bowl drop down, Himself fell after it.   

21.  
Thus he who in the universal Flood  
Escaped the fury of the proudest Wave,  
And on the Ocean's back in triumph road,  
Seeing below the whole World's woeful Grave;  
Alas, was drowned in a silly Cup  
Which he himself unwittingly drunk up.   

22.  
No Ark above this Deluge Us can bear  
But Temperance, which here the Saint forgot;  
Who, as he fell, had neither thought nor care  
Of keeping on his modest Mantle; but  
Quite destitute of Clothes, and Senses lay,  
And did his double Nakedness display.   

23.  
But as the Traitor who has slain the King  
Speeds from the Court as soons the Fact is done:  
So now the treacherous Liquor back doth fling,  
And from the Murder it committed, run:  
Besides, a Rout of other Humours follows,  
And slaughtered Noah in his Vomit wallows.   

24.  
Slaughtered indeed; and now a Man no more;  
For nothing is alive in Him but Beast,  
Which speaks its kind by its loud Swinish Roar:  
And thus he tumbling lies, until oppressed  
With his most heavy Self, he falls asleep,  
And in that nasty Rest his brains doth steep,   

25.  
Thus, as one part of Luxury did grow  
In Paradise, the other planted was  
In Noah's Garden; that the World might know  
Danger can breed and lurk in any place:  
Alas, the holiest Ground too often breeds  
As well as wholesome Flowers, envenomed Weeds.   

26.  
heavens Bounty granted all Variety  
Of Meats to feast the Sober Appetite;  
And added brisk and cheerful Wine, to be  
The active Soul of Moderate Delight:  
But peevish Man abused by his gross  
Ingratitude, heavens Grace to Wantonness.   

27.  
Neither by Eve's Example He would take,  
Nor Noah's, warning, though their Sanctity  
Did them far more invulnerable make  
Then common Mortals feeble Breasts could be:  
Still He would needs go dive to the profound  
Bottom of Pleasures, though himself he drowned.   

28.  
And from that Bottom he fetched up at last  
Improved Fat and Fullgrown Luxury,  
Who ne'er appeared unto Ages past  
More than a tolerable Prodigy,  
For she much cooler was, and tamer then,  
And did not banish Men quite out of Men,   

29.  
But now she an unruly Monster grew,  
Being encouraged by Wines rampant Flame;  
And round about the World in Triumph flew,  
All which she shipwrecked in her Poisonous stream:  
Raving and roaring Mad she was, and made  
All so, who practised her intemperate Trade.   

30.  
The Laws of God, of Man, of Nature were  
Vain feeble Bridles, when-soever she  
Resolved in her furious Career  
To let the Circle of her Healths run free:  
Oft has she mingled with her Wines mad flood  
Friends, Brothers, Parents, Masters, Prince's blood   

31.  
Strange was her Shape, (if yet Deformity  
May in Shapes Title share,) her parched Head  
Burns up all hopes of Hair, and scorns to be  
By any thing but Baldness covered:  
Her humorish Eyes all red and putrid, seem  
In her own overflowing Wine to swim.   

32.  
But yet her Nose more provident is, for there  
The Wine is bottled up and runs not out:  
Only the Bottle being thin and clear  
Speaks what it holds; and studded round about  
With fervent Rubies, serveth her perhaps  
For a dear Item of a Bunch of Grapes.   

33.  
Wroth fiery Knots are marshaled upon  
Her Forehead and her Cheeks: Had Sicily  
Her Aetna lost, this sulphury Region  
Would show it her in multiplicity;  
Only these Hills are something less than that,  
Yet is their Horror and their Stink as great.   

34.  
Her Lips are always crannied and dry,  
Though every day a thousand times made wet;  
For still her burning breath in passing by  
Makes them that Moisture instantly forget,  
And by the Poison of its fulsome Stinks  
Taints all the aromatic Wines she drinks.   

35.  
But the vast storehouse of her Belly makes  
Her seem with Child of Mountains, for in this  
The dainties which from all the World she rakes  
In one prodigious Heap congested is:  
Here Solomon's brazen Sea itself might swimm,  
And its twelve Oxen too, and more with Them.   

36.  
This is the Sink, where Surfeit being bred,  
Of all Diseases doth the Parent grow;  
Which She distributing from Foot to Head  
Doth undigested Pleasures turn to Woe.  
Thus, though the Bee doth pleasing Honey bring,  
She always endeth in a poisonous Sting.   

37.  
Who knows not that Luxuriant Mortals eat  
The copious fuel of their Sicknesses,  
And force their honest, but abused Meat  
Not to feed Nature, but her Maladies?  
Who knows not that in Healths deceitful Name  
They drink the Venom which destroyeth Them?   

38.  
Themselves they diet thus with their own Death  
And to a Weapon of Destruction turn  
The Staff of Life: In vain heavens Mercy hath  
So bounteous been; if Man himself can learn  
To pick out 〈◊〉 in it, and through  
Its Sweetness, work his bitter Overthrow.   

39  
If Bacchus must be made a God, and have  
His larger and more constant Sacrifice  
Than He who all their Vines to Mortals gave,  
Whilst they the Gift more than the Giver prize;  
If Ceres too a Goddess grow, and We  
All sworn Devoto's to the Belly be.   

40.  
Alas I and had not bold Mortality  
Commission large and full enough before  
To work our Ruin! Was the Misery  
Of Plagne, of Famine, and of War, so poor  
And weak, that We ourselves the help must lend  
Of Luxury, to hasten on our End!   

41.  
'Twas time, high time for God himself to come  
And turn Physician in this desperate Case:  
Our Madness swelled so wide, that now no room  
For any Mortal helping Hand there was:  
'Twas time to Come; and blessed be His Name  
For his dear Coming, for in time He came,   

42.  
Jesus himself came down, and left the Feast  
Of all Delights which He above enjoyed;  
Into the Depth of Poverty He cast  
His life, and taught the World how to avoid  
Intemperanc's Baits, which thick are set  
Only where Riches the dominion get.   

43.  
Then by his practik Abstinence He showed  
Those who his royal steps would not disdain,  
How dangerous Luxury might be subdued,  
And healthful Temperance the Sceptre gain:  
Forty long days and nights at once he spent  
In Consecrating of his Servants Lent.   

44.  
To this Example He his Doctrine joined  
And for his frequent Text did Fasting take;  
Proving that every Eye was worse than blind  
Which no discovery in Her could make  
Of richer Beauties, than those faint and thin  
Graces which hover in a polished Skin.   

45.  
'Tis true She's pale; so is the Lily too,  
So is her heavenly Daughter Chastity;  
So is the Milk so is the virgin Snow;  
And yet when Modesty would dressed be  
In her brave Scarlet, She doth raise a Flood  
Of Purple, and shine fair in Blushing Blood   

46.  
She is contented to be lank and lean,  
As one who counts it Martial Policy  
To keep her Ammunition close within,  
The better to confront the Siege: for She  
Laughs at those plump and boasting Gallants who  
Can nothing but their swelling Outworks show.   

47.  
For whilst her Walls are less, she hath less need  
Of numerous Powers to maintain the fight:  
But being Mistress of all active Heed  
She stands upon her guard both day and night;  
Being of creacherous ease, and sleep afraid,  
By which fat lazy bulwarks are betrayed.   

48.  
She knows what ballast will her Bulk suffice  
To keep her steady in this dangerous Sea,  
And lays in but enough: The Merchandise  
Which fraughts her stowage, precious virtues be;  
And provident she, no bigger than herself,  
Securely sails by every Rock and Shelf.   

49.  
Her Parts and Passions all their duties know,  
And she as little fears a storm within,  
As from without: her humble flesh doth bow  
To all Commands; no Officers repine  
What course so e'er she steers, but all conspire  
To make their own still sail with her desire.   

50.  
Thus she does safely at that Port arrive  
Which leads into the Continent of Bliss;  
The Port at which her restless aim did drive;  
The only Key and Gate of Paradise:  
For Paradise's sweets her stomach she  
Reserved, which there at length shall filled be.   

51.  
This difficult but advantageous Grace  
Was that which Jesus strove on earth to sow;  
But most ungrateful Earth so shameless was  
As not to suffer the fair seed to grow:  
Though a few honest beds did entertain it,  
The most part of the Garden did disdain it.   

52.  
Those who unto the King of Abstinence  
Have sworn Allegiance, blush not to unroll  
Themselves the servants of Intemperance,  
And the mad virtue of their Revelling Bowl  
More sacred and obligatory count  
Then the blessed Streams of the Baptismal Fount.   

53.  
Else how comes that abominable Trade  
Of daily turning swine, to be professed  
With most applans not where the Pagan shade  
Upon prevented Reasons eyes hath east  
Blind irreligions' night; but where the Rays  
Of most revealed heaven, gild Christian days.   

54.  
Else how cam'st thou, unhappy Britaih, which  
Barrest out all other Oceans by thy shore,  
To let the Sea of Drunkenness with such  
unruly fury in thy bowels roar!  
O that thy feeble Sands should stronger be  
Then is thy Reason, or thy Piety.   

55.  
How has this deluge drowned in Sottishness  
Thy once renowned sense of Bravery,  
Since in thy Helmeti, Swords, and Bucklers place  
A cowardly succession we see  
Of Pots and Glasses, and (o valours shame!)  
〈◊〉 drinker turned into Credit's name,   

56.  
How come those Bacchanalian wars so dear  
In thy Repute, who prid'st thyself that thou  
So well appointed art, as not to fear  
Or Dutch, or Danish bowls; but knowest how  
Foes and friends lives by the Grapes blood to shed,  
And, though not strike, yet, surely drink them dead.   

57  
How comes the Name of Cynik or of Clown,  
To dwell on them who never learned the Arts  
Of roaring Revels? How is goodness grown  
No more by virtues standard, but by quarts  
And Pottles to be measured, whilst, alas,  
Carousers for the good companions pass?   

58.  
O how hast thou forgot what sumptuous Care  
Almighty Love hath taken to requite  
Thine Abstinence; what Soul refreshing fare  
For Piety's untainted Appetite  
His bounteous hand prepares, and proves how He  
Excessive is in hospitality!   

59  
Heaven stood amazed at the magnificence  
Of that high banquet: nor could Phylax now  
Longer conceal the brave ecstatik sense  
He had of it; for heavenly bosoms glow  
So hot with Love's sublime exploits, that they  
Must split, did not their tongues their hearts display.   

60.  
The famous Traitor's story being done,  
And Psyche having her short supper eat,  
The 〈◊〉 Guardian thus again begun:  
My Dear, this Evening seaion, and the 〈◊〉  
Thou from thy Lord's hand hast received, be  
The items of a greater feast to Me.   

61.  
He, the sweet Doctor of chaste Abstinence  
Who taught his Servants not to clog their heart  
With corruptible Viands; when from hence  
Already Sold, he shortly was to part,  
So great and rich a Banquet made, as may  
The whole World's Temperance 〈◊〉 than 〈◊〉   

62.  
A 〈◊〉 not of gross and earthly cheer  
Where Birds, or Beasts, or Fish might convives be.  
But of immortal Delicates, so dear,  
So sweet, so precious, that only He  
The God in whom all Power & sweetness live  
Could such Celestial entertainment give.   

63.  
'Twas now the solemn time among the 〈◊〉  
Their memorable Passover to ear:  
Nor would thine inoffensive Lord refuie  
That grand solemnity to celebrate,  
And honour it, which like the faithful 〈◊〉  
On Him the Sun so long attended had.   

64.  
With his Disciples down the Master sat,  
And in the spotless and unblemished Lamb  
Beheld the Copy of his purer State,  
In which no Critics eye found room for blame  
Yet could not Innocence secure his life,  
More than the Lamb it saved from the knife.   

65.  
The Lamb his tender fleece & skin had lost,  
And naked to the fire exposed was.  
Where all its harmless, helpless, flesh was roast:  
And here he read atorehand his own case,  
How to his Cross the Jewish fury tossed him,  
And how the flaming wrath of Heaven did roast him.   

66.  
The sad attendance of that bitter sauce  
Which sourest Herbs about the Meat had thrown,  
The dark resemblance of those torments was  
With which his Dish of deepest woe was strown,  
The Weeds of humane sins, which far exceed  
In bitterness, all Herbs that earth can breed.   

67.  
The Haste which quickened on this transient feasi,  
Was not so winged as the noble speed  
With which He posted in desire to rest  
Upon the cruel Cross his tender Head:  
A woeful resting place was that, and yet  
To Love no Pillow seemed so soft as,   

68  
But having 〈◊〉 this 〈◊〉  
And with due honour brought it 〈◊〉 its geave,  
He makes way for that tender 〈◊〉  
Which as his final favour he did save  
To print his dearest Memory most deep  
In the soft Sonles of his beloved Sheep.   

69.  
He with a Towel, having laid aside  
His Mantle, girds himself; for humble he  
Would not the least impediment abide  
Of his officious Activity:  
With water then filling a Basin full  
Down at his own Disciples feet he fell.   

70.  
The Conscience of his own eternal worth,  
And of his universal Sovereignty,  
The certain knowledge that He 〈◊〉 forth  
From his bright Father's arms, and was to be 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉   
There re-inthroned, could not hold him up:  
All this he knew, and yet he down did stoop.   

71.  
Stoop then prood Mortals, whosoever ye be,  
Who have no power alone to stand upright,  
Stoop, now you see your Saviour on his Knee,  
Who doth sustain your Being, by his might;  
Stoop, now you see. Him to his Servants bow,  
And the Most-high submit himself 〈◊〉   

72.  
To stand on foolish Terms of 〈◊〉 now  
Is but to found your glory on your shame:  
Is it not more illustrious to bow  
With Jesus, then with Lucifer to aim  
Above your reach? O why will Dust forget  
The place originally due to it!   

73.  
But what's God's business at his Servants feet?  
Even to Wash and Wipe them 〈◊〉. O now  
Stoop lower still, lower and lower yet,  
For at the lowest you are not so 〈◊〉  
As He the 〈◊〉 King, who here  
Hath made himself a 〈◊〉 Minister.   

74.  
When Jesus by his Water ciensed had  
Her Servants feet, and by his Grace their 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 what Preparation must be made  
By all who ever mean to have their Parts  
In his pure 〈◊〉; down he sits again,  
And them with 〈◊〉 doth entertain.   

75.  
The Ends of sumptuous Banquets use to be  
Crowned with most sovereign Varieties,  
Which may the Convives learned Luxury  
With deep and new found Ravishment surprise;  
And Jesus would not have this Supper want  
That costly Point of Princely Compliment.   

76.  
Indeed the Supper which They now had eat  
Into the Belly its direct way took,  
Where in the Kitchen of poor Mortal Meat  
It was committed unto Heat to Cook:  
And Heats best skill could only dress it 〈◊〉  
To feed the Body which contained it.   

77.  
But Christ's 〈◊〉 Design was now  
With such a royal Feast to bless the Board,  
As might make Spirits fat and healthful grow,  
And thriving Nutriment to Souls afford;  
Such Nutriment as might full power give  
Unto his Guests eternally to live.   

78.  
In his Almighty Hand he took the Bread;  
And poured his plenall Blessing upon it:  
Never on any but his own dear Head  
Such potent Benediction did sit;  
Indeed, it was that Blessings Echo, and  
Bounded upon his Body in his Hand.   

79.  
For having broke that Bread He reached it  
To his Disciples, saying, Take and eat  
This is my Body broke for You; and let  
My dear Remembrance live in this your Meat.  
But Jesu's Feast must not be dry; for Wine  
Equal to this high Dainties He doth join.   

80.  
He takes the Cup, and Drink Ye all of this,  
It is my Blood of the new Testument  
Says He, which shed and freely given is  
To wash the Sins of all that will repent?  
As often as you of this Chalice drink  
Of Me your liberal Redeemer think   

81.  
Sweet Jesus! o how can thy World forget  
Their royal 〈◊〉, and his 〈◊〉, who  
Upon their Tables his own Self hath 〈◊〉;  
Who in their holy Cups fails not to flow,  
And in their Dishes lie. Did ever Friend  
So 〈◊〉 a Token of his Love 〈◊〉?   

82.  
Infallibly there dost Thou flow and lie;  
Though Mortal Eyes discover no such thing;  
Quick sighted Faith reads all the Mystery  
And humble pious Souls doth easily bring  
Into the Wonders 〈◊〉, and there  
Makes all the 〈◊〉 of this Truth 〈◊〉,   

83.  
She generously dares on God rely  
And trust his Word how strange soe'er it 〈◊〉  
If Jesus once pronounces This is my  
Body and Blood; Farneze far be it, cries She;  
That I should think my dying Lord would 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 in his 〈◊〉 of Drink and 〈◊〉   

84.  
(His Word is most Omnipotent, and He  
Can do what e'er He says; and more than I  
Can or would understand What is't to me  
If He 〈◊〉 Humane Capacity?  
Surely it well becomes Him so to do,  
Nor were He God, if He could not do so   

85.  
Let Him say what He will, I must deny  
Him to be God, or else Believe his Word  
Me it concerneth not to verify  
What He proclaims; I only must afford  
Meek Credit, and let Him alone to make  
Good, whatsoever He is 〈◊〉 to speak,)   

86.  
Gross and unworthy Spirits sure They be  
Who of their Lord such mean Conceptions 〈◊〉  
That parting from his dearest Consorts. He  
No Token of his Love did leave with Them.  
But simple Bread and Wine: a likely thing,  
And well-becoming heavens magnificent King,   

87.  
A likely Thing, that when the susty blood  
Of Bulls and Goars cannot wash Sin away,  
The Blood of Grapes should with a stronger Flood  
〈◊〉 over whelm and drown the World's 〈◊〉:  
O no, such Virtue in no Blood can dwell  
But that which through the Veins of God did thrill.   

88  
Ask me not then, How can the thing be done,  
〈◊〉 power of Sense or Reason can 〈◊〉 it?  
〈◊〉, is 〈◊〉 are, what Demonstration  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as this My God 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 if you once can prove that He can lie,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 too, I 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

89.  
What thank is it that you can credit that  
Which your own sense and Reason's eye reads plain?  
Heavn's much to them beholden, who will not  
Believe it higher is than they can strain;  
Who jealous are of God, and will not be  
Induceed to trust him further than they see.   

90.  
And yet had you these modest eyes of mine,  
You in this gloomy Cloud would see the Sun  
That Sun, who wisely doth disdain to shine  
On Those who with bold Prying press upon  
His secret Majesty, which plainly I  
Because I make no anxious search, descry.   

91.  
This is the valorous Resolution  
Of Gallant Faith: and this will serve to be  
The blessed Rule by which all those will run  
Who are the Scholars of Humility.  
Yet, I must tell thee Psyche, itching Pride  
Will not hereafter thus be satisfied.   

92.  
A thousand waspish Syllogisms will  
Be buzzing from the Mouths of those who build  
Their ground works of Religion on the skill  
Which they for granted take, their brains has filled;  
Till Queries, Doubts, Distinctions, Niceties,  
First grow to Schisms, and then to Heresies.   

93.  
Needs will they pry into the Manner how  
This mystic Miracle to pass was brought,  
And madly being not content to know  
What Christ thought fit to teach them, study out  
They know not what, and make this banquet prove  
A Sacrament of war, and not of love.   

94.  
Some peep too near, and spy what is not there,  
Some carelessly take what is there away:  
Some will confess no Miracle, for fear  
That should prove Consequential, which they  
Would not have so, and that themselves should be  
Forced to acknowledge more than they can see.   

95.  
Some sift Existence, Substance, Accidents,  
And make the Laws of Aristotle be  
The Umpiers in Religion. Thus the Rents  
Which Art strives to sew up in Piety  
By that unworthy clownish Needle are  
Only made wider than before they were.   

96.  
O happy world, if all would once agree  
In that which Jesus hath so plainly taught!  
If those short Words might but sincerely be  
Embraced, and no more in question brought!  
If for the Manner they would trust their Lord,  
And for the Substance, take Him at his Word!   

97.  
For Heaven its faithful wheel shall sooner turn,  
And backward hale the Sun into the East;  
The Northern Polar Bear shall sooner burn,  
And Siriu's mouth be sealed up with Frost;  
The Earth into the Spheres shall sooner leap,  
And tumble down all Height into the Deep;   

98.  
Then any Syllable which droppeth from  
The Lips of Jesus can be born away  
Upon the Winds swift wings, and never come  
Back with its full effect. And yet the day  
Will come, when Men will be so mad in this  
Clear point, as to dispute away their Bliss.   

99  
It is in vain to tell these Wranglers how  
Jesus could graft cold stones into the stock  
Of Abraham, and make them Fertile grow  
In Israelites; Or that the Bread He took  
In's daily diet, was not wholly spent,  
But part into his Body's substance went.   

100  
In vain to tell them, how, into his Blood  
The Wine he drank was changed day by day:  
For though such Speculations understood  
With prudent reverence, might make easier way  
Unto the Mystery; yet Wranglers will  
Because they will be so, be Wranglers still,   

101.  
But as the sweetest Roses are beset  
With a strict Siege of Thorns; whilst vulgar 〈◊〉  
Which are not worth the Choking never meet  
With armed Neighbours, whose infestive Powers  
Might plant their Bane about them: so it fares  
With this rich Bread invaded by the Tares.   

102.  
What heart can of the monstrous gnostics think  
And not abhor their damned sacrifice, 
Vid. S. Epiphan. Hares. 26. 7.   
The matchless, and the most blasphemous sink  
Of odious impudent Impieties?  
Psyche, Thou never yet heardst of so black  
A sin, as they do their Religion make.   

103.  
But I in reverence to thy Blush, forbear  
That deep Abominations Den to rake,  
Whose rank Sent reaks up to the highest Sphere  
And in God's Nostrils stinks: Yet leave must take  
To tell thee thine own Albion will not be  
Afraid of Sacramental Villainy.   

104.  
For in the dregs of Time, when Wealth and Pride  
Have fattened British Hearts fit to defy  
All Sacred Discipline, and to the Tide  
Of furious Licence and Impiety  
Opened a vast Gap, unhallowed Hands will dare  
From holy Priests this reverend Work to tear.   

105.  
Mechanic Zeal, inspired by Sottishness,  
And by enthusiastic Ordination  
Of Self-deluded Fancy Called to dress  
This Mystic Feast in the reformed fashion,  
Will purest Purity itself defile,  
And by heavens Gate find out a Way to Hell.   

106.  
But happy Thou who shalt not live to see  
Thine Eyes tormented by that cursed Sight,  
Which shall both Acted, and Permitted be  
By equal Sons of everlasting Night.  
Come then, let our Discourse return and be  
Spent on this Miracle of Purity   

107.  
Thy Lords great Feast was the high Consummation  
Of Israel's Passover; A Feast which did  
With mystic power antedate his Passion,  
And that long-long'd-for Word, 'Tis finished.  
Right noble was that typick Passover,  
But nobler this, because Substantial, here.   

108.  
How much more pure and precious is this Lamb  
Who, though the Feast unto himself be sour,  
Presents no Sauce of bitter herbs to them  
Who are the Convives, but with all the power  
Of Sweetness entertains their Palates, and  
All Joys to wait upon them doth command.   

109.  
This is that more renowned Viaticum  
The Israel of God to fortify  
When they from Pharaohs iron Bondage come,  
And travel to their holy Liberty.  
O Psyche, those old Stories plainlier are  
Reacted in the Christian Hemisphere.   

110.  
Sin is that hateful Egypt, where doth reign  
A King how much more fierce than Pharaoh was,  
The Tyrant Belzebub who throws his Chain  
About the World; and makes all Nations pass  
Under a more unreasonable Law  
Than making Brick, whilst They're denied Straw.   

111.  
But pious Souls are by this Paschal Feast  
Both strengthened and encouraged to throw  
This servile Yoke away, and thither haste  
Where everlasting Liberty doth grow:  
Although their hard obstructed Passage be  
Through the Wilderness, and the Red Sea.   

112.  
This enigmatick Life of Misery  
Can own both those repugnant Names: what are  
Its Storms, and Broils, and Tumults, but a Sea  
Red with Destruction? What is daily fear  
With helpless Desolation, and Distress,  
If not a squalid fatal Wilderness.   

113.  
But through this wretched Desert, and this Sea,  
The Virtue of this Passover will lead  
Believing Souls, until they safely be  
Of blessed Canaan inherited,  
That Canaan whose Milk and Honey is  
The sweetness of exuberant Paradise,   

114.  
That Canaan where no Jebusites shall be  
Thorns in the Sides of its accomplished Rest,  
And whence no Babylonish Potency  
Shall root Them out who there are once possessed;  
A Canaan which alone makes good the grand  
And glorious Title of The holy Land.   

115.  
This Sacramental Bread, and this alone  
Is that supporting Staff of Life, by which  
The stout and faithful Generation  
Take their brave journey unto Heaven, and reach  
The top of their Desires more surely far  
Than by his Staff the Artist does the Star.   

116.  
By Bread, and Bread alone, Man now must live,  
Even by this Bread which from Gods own Mouth came;  
Christ's potent institution did give  
This Virtue to it; and Himself proclaim  
Aforehand, that Men must not hope or think  
To Live; but by this Suppers Meat and Drink.   

117.  
All Delicacies moulded up in one  
Pure precious Composition are here:  
Ne'er did the Sybarit s Invention  
Upon their Tables sacrifice such cheer  
Unto their 〈◊〉 which alone to them  
The greatest of the Deities did seem.   

118.  
The Syracusian Boards did never sweat  
Under such Dainties: Alexandrian Feasts  
Did never with such princely sprightful Meat  
Ravish the Palates of their dearest Guests:  
No Asiatick, nor no Medick Fare,  
No Cates of Marseils may with these compare.   

119.  
Great Solomon's profoundest Industry  
Which through all Nature did his Pleasures hunt,  
Sifting and bolting every suavity,  
To find what Sweets did flow with most Content,  
Nought but unsa vorie Vanity could taste:  
All Solid pleasures here alone are placed,   

120.  
Here, in this Bread, this rich Conspiracy  
Of most substantial Delights; to which  
That pure Angelic Cheer which bounteously  
heavens careful Hand did every morning reach  
Unto his Israel, journeying in the bare  
And hungry desert, was course homely fare.   

121.  
Nor is the Dainties of the Cup less rich  
Than that which in the noble Patin lies:  
The Wine of Love, of Life, of Spirits, which  
By new un-heard of heavenly properties  
The heart of Man with such Delights doth cheer  
As never fears the worst assaults of fear.   

122.  
Heaven's prudent Law had taken order that  
No Creatures Blood the Lip of Man should slain:  
O no: The Caution was just and fit,  
That all those Mouths might be reserved clean  
In reverence to the Blood of this great Lamb  
Which was into beheving lips to stream.   

123.  
O blessed, bloody, peaceful Wine! O how  
Divinely hast thou satisfaction made  
For that enflaming Poison which doth flow  
In other Wines! may Noah now be glad  
Of his Invention, since his foul mishap  
Is clean washed out by this all purging Grape.   

124.  
This is that Wine wherein dwells Verity  
The Verity of Heaven: For Heaven in it  
All melted is: Those noble Joys which we  
Bathed in at home, are here together met  
In sweet epitome, and smiling swim  
About the Chalices most reverend Brim.   

125.  
Let Luxury turn other wines into  
The milk of Venus, and unto its Cups  
As to the Bottles of her bosom go,  
Whence only furious uncleanness drops:  
This is the purest Juice that can be pressed  
From Chastities own most unspotted breast.   

126.  
Of this, mild Doves may drink, and never fear  
An inflammation which might entrench  
On their chaste Spirits: Devoted Virgins here  
Their 〈◊〉 and bashful Hearts may safely drench:  
This Liquor breeds no flames but soft and cool,  
Which though they burn, cannot infect the soul.   

127.  
Should Greek, Canary, or Pannonian Wine,  
Should Spanish, French, Italian, and the rest  
Which crown the Bowls of Princes, all combine  
In one Extraction, and be richly dressed  
With Aromatic Helps; they would be all  
If paralleled with this, but costly Gall.   

128.  
Ambitious Cleopatra's sumptuous Bowl  
Where her Luxuriant Jewel learned to swim,  
And its inestimable Riches roll  
Melted and mixed with the gallant stream,  
Compared with this Cup was full as vile  
As any Bottle filled at her Nile.   

129.  
This makes those wines all blush for their own shame  
Which in proud Belteshazzers Goblets smiled;  
Which Holofernes to the beauteous Dame,  
And yet more Masculine than Beauteous filled;  
That Dame, who in her Nation's quarrel durst  
Less for his Wine than for his heartblood thirst.   

130.  
Sardanapalus with his Coste and Care,  
Such precious liquor never could obtain;  
No Epicurean wishes ever were  
Advanced unto so sublime a strain,  
As to desire so rich a Draught as this,  
Whose worthabove all Fancies Compass is.   

131.  
For where the Juice of other Grapes doth reign,  
Both Sense and Reason feel its Tyranny;  
Which being drowned together with their Brain,  
Forth with each Member, and each faculty  
To beastly Madness is enslaved, and flies  
On Murders, Rapines, Rapes, and Villainies.   

132.  
But where this Wine of Angels domineers  
The Heart with noble Drunkenness it fills,  
For all its Powers and Spirits it overbears  
With a sweet stream of mystic Miracles,  
Until intoxicated by this Flood  
Of Love and Heaven, the Man is Drunk with God.   

133.  
Strange, Psyche, are this Drunkennesses Fits;  
Oft have I seen, and them as oft admired:  
The World has thought these Men besides their Wits,  
When with this Liquors flame it saw them fired.  
But We know what ecstatick Raptures mean,  
And Zeals exploits, when it hath got the Rein.   

134.  
Oft have I seen brave Spirits, when they rose  
From this great Banquet, filled with generous Rage,  
Fly in the face of Sin; and nobly choose  
The stoutest Foes whereon they might engage  
Their heavenly Confidence, nor has their high  
Adventure failed to reach down Victory.   

135.  
Oft have I seen Them scorn the Frown of Death,  
Oft have I seen them hug the Cross and Spear,  
Oft have I heard them spend their final breath  
In wooing greater Torments to come near,  
Oft have I seen them enter single fight  
Both with the Peers, and with the Prince of Night.   

136.  
For well they know what Strength they have within,  
And by tenacious Faith they hold it fast:  
How can those Champions ever fail to win  
Amidst whose Armour Heaven itself is placed?  
What Battery can prevail against that Breast  
Which is infallibly with God possessed?   

137.  
For to augment the Wonder, Psyche, this  
Great Feast of Feasts, can never all be spent:  
When Millions are filled, still it is  
Entirely whole, and knows no detriment.  
So, though the whole World drinks in Air, yet still  
The undiminish'd Region is full.   

138.  
And yet not so: For here each One doth eat  
The total Feast, yet each One leaves it whole:  
These antecedent Ages cannot cheat  
Those which lagg on behind: whilst Heaven doth roll,  
And Earth stand still, this ever-teeming Bord.  
The same Delights will unto All afford.   

139.  
No Fount lives on such living Springs as dwell  
In this pure Cup of Life, to which though all  
The World do daily flock, to drink, yet still  
It keeps its equal Plenitude, nor shall  
The busy School, with all its Company  
Of Doubts and Queries hope to draw it dry,   

140.  
Though all heavens starry Tapers lighted be  
At Phebu's eyes, his Rays are still entire;  
Though in each River, Fountain, Lake, or Sea  
His Image shines, yet his original Fire  
Is only one, which doth itself so wide  
In its complete Similitude divide.   

141.  
Thus, and more really than thus, this Feast  
Most absolutely One, itself doth spread  
Into the Mouth and Heart of every Guest,  
And there far more celestial Splendour shed  
Than when the Sun by his meridian Ray  
Triumphs upon the highest Throne of Day,   

142.  
The Blessed Lord, not many years ago,  
Had borrowed of the World Humanity,  
And dressed Himself in Mary's bowels so  
That He became completely Man: yet He  
Though by this Condescend, new Rays He set  
In Nature's Crown, still thought Himself in debt.   

143.  
Right Generous as He was, He meant to pay  
All back again which He received from Her:  
His Body and his Blood He meant to lay  
Upon the Cross, and make Requital there  
To all his Creditors, and freely by  
That Payment ransom Them from Misery,   

144.  
And yet, because his Humane Nature He  
So dearly loved that He resolved to bear  
It home in Triumph, and eternalie  
Those Robes of boundless Love and Mercy Wear:  
E'er He his journey took, He plotted how  
It might Ascend, and yet Remain below,   

145.  
Remain below; and be as oft Restored  
As Man would please to take it: And the way  
He Instituted was by this adored  
Mysterious Banquet, which doth day by day  
Repay his Flesh and Blood, that Man may eat  
And drink, and with his God incorporate.   

146.  
For, to complete his most excessive Love  
Beyond the reach of any Paravel;  
This 〈◊〉 Pay He doth so far improve,  
That his 〈◊〉 Godhead joins to swell  
The royal Feast; for this can never be  
Dissevered from his Humanity   

147.  
O Banquet! fit for His Magnificence  
Who is the Universes Sovereign.  
By this dear Project, Psyche, Mercies Prince  
Collecteth in his more than golden Chain  
His World unto Himself, and ties 〈◊〉 close,  
That no Disunion can interpose.   

148.  
The glorious Incarnation began  
To tie this Knot; which now redoubled is:  
There God vouchsas d to join Himself with Man  
Here Man has leave to make the Juncture His,  
And knit himself to his 〈◊〉 O  
What God stooped ever to his Creature so!   

149.  
By this sweet Combination Men do grow  
〈◊〉 of their Singularities,  
Their 〈◊〉 Interests, their I and Thou,  
Their Mine and 〈◊〉 their grounds of Avarice,  
Of Envy, of 〈◊〉 any comply  
In holy Peace's common Unity.   

150.  
This is the Cement, which together ties  
The Stones which in the Churches Fabrik lie,  
The common Ligature which doth comprise  
Each Joint and Member in the Mystery  
Of Christ's spiritual Body, until He  
The Shepherd, and his Sheep, in one agree.   

151.  
For as the Reasonable Soul doth swimm.  
Entirely one through all the Body; yet  
In every Member, and in every Limm  
In its Totality doth single sit:  
So by this Sacramental Union  
Jesus is One to All, and All to One,   

152.  
Believe it Psyche, though thy Mortal Eye  
Sees no such brave Attendance on this Board,  
Yet thick the Waiters stand whose Dignity  
Shines next the Glories of their royal Lord:  
No Prince was on his Coronation Day  
E'er honoured by such Servitors as They.   

153.  
The gallant Cherubs, and the Seraphs here  
With legions of fairest Angels meet,  
And in all awful Reverence draw near,  
Ravished at what you Mortals Drink and Eat;  
Here royal Principalities attend,  
Here Thrones bow down, & here Dominions bend,   

154.  
For when they are above in their bright sphere  
The glorious Ocean of eternal Sweets,  
Their blessed Eyes behold no richer Cheer  
Than Mercy on this noble Table sets;  
Nor did the Cherubs which kept Paradise  
Find there such glorious Varieties.   

155.  
Pure are their Eyes, and they can easily pass  
Through the thick Veil which on the Feast doth lie,  
A Veil which in profound Compassion was  
Thrown on the Countenance of this Mystery,  
Which darts more glories from its naked face  
Than ever did great Mose's Temples grace.   

156.  
So long as mortal Grossness sticks upon  
The Brows of Man, and clogs his feeble Sight,  
One glimpse of heavenly Majesty alone  
Would seal his eyes up with eternal Night;  
For what exceedeth, doth corrupt, their reach;  
Transcendent Lustre prov's as dark as Pitch.   

157.  
When Batts may venture to the Eagles Nest,  
And full against the Suns, their own eyes set;  
When blear-eyed Owls may leave their gloomy Roost  
And with safe Looks the Face of Highnoon met;  
When Midnight dares throw off her sable Cloak;  
And into bright Aurora's Wardrobe look.   

158.  
Then may dim-sighted Men with safety gaze  
Upon their Lords unveiled Brightness; then  
May they directly to his royal Face  
Without a Perspectives Assistance run;  
Then may they boldly scorn, their Eyes to shroud  
Under the moderate Shadow of a Cloud.   

159.  
But Jesus who full well their Weakness knew,  
Did in the Shelter of plain Wine and Bread  
Accommodate his Goodness to their View;  
That in Familiar Elements they might read  
The hidden Mystery, and happy be  
Above all that their Mortal eyes could see.   

160.  
The time shall come, when the dull Dust shall be  
By the brisk Virtue of the Resurrection  
Refin'd and raised to a Capacity  
Of radiant and spiritual Perfection;  
When faithful Souls in their celestial Rest  
Shall at the Lambs unuciled Supper feast   

161.  
Mean while, it is their Privilege, that they  
May freely in the Shade enjoy the Sun;  
That in the Darkness they may meet the Day,  
And in Hope's Region find Fruition.  
But who, sweet Psyche, would believe, that hence  
Man should draw reason of Irreverence!   

162.  
Alas, when Time shall old and doting grow,  
And Christian Spirits sympathise with it;  
〈◊〉 will be bold to make this Banquet know  
That by its Outside They do square and fit  
Their estimation of it; and that there  
Their Faith admits no more than doth appear.   

163.  
It must be Superstition, if they  
Should think God's Table holier than their own;  
If of this Cup and Patin they bewray  
An higher thought, than of those all the Town  
Use in the public Inns, when e'er they keep  
Their free Communion of Goodfellow ship.   

164.  
Nor Jove nor Juno, nor the silliest He  
Or She of all that Rabble, who were made  
Gods by vain Man; found such impiety  
In those their Makers, as to be betrayed  
To slovenish Altars, and to 〈◊〉 Rites  
By feigned Zeal's irreverent Deceits.   

165.  
Must Rudeness only be permitted to  
Attend on Jesu's noblest 〈◊〉?  
And must it for most pure 〈◊〉 go  
Because so gross and 〈◊〉 Surely We  
Are much too blanie in Heaven, who never knew  
Such kind of 〈◊〉 to our God was due.   

166.  
Is this the Thanks for keeping in his flames  
Of most intolefable Majesty,  
Which once unveiled, by its immortal streams  
Would them devour, and all their slovenrie?  
Alas, that Love should thus neglected be,  
And for no cause, but mighty Charity!   

167.  
But those brave Lovers, of whose generous breast  
Jesus entire possession has took,  
Are so enamoured of this royal Feast,  
That with all humble Reverence they look  
Upon it, and in faithful pure desire,  
After Angelic Compliments aspire,   

168.  
Their Hearts beat high with that illustrious Zeal  
Which fires our Breasts, and fain would stoop as low  
As do the Seraphs, when this Miracle  
Of Love invites their reverend knees to bow:  
Fain would they have their passionate Piety  
As infinite as is this Mystery.   

169.  
For infinite it is; and gladly I,  
Would its Infinitude to Thee display;  
No Theem with such delight could sit on my  
Admiring Tongue: But Angels must give way  
To ecstacies, in such vast Deeps, where Love  
Himself the utmost of his Power doth prove.   

170.  
Here Phylax ended, and observed how  
The Bait would operate which He had cast  
To Psyche's heart: which being captived now  
By his Discourses Charms, and chained fast  
Unto the Tables foot which He set out,  
This pious answer gently forth she brought:   

171.  
My Souls sweet Friend, what thanks can I repay  
For all this honey which thy Tongue hath shed  
Into my ears and heart 〈◊〉 Phylax may  
He whom Thou praisedst, pour upon thy head  
Thy full Requital: As for sunple Me,  
What can the poor Worm Psyche give to Thee?   

172.  
She can give nothing, but 〈◊〉 still  
A beggar, 〈◊〉 for further Favours sues;  
Yet not for Cates my stomach's mouth to fill,  
〈◊〉 No Famine's Power could make me choose  
My other Diet, if at this sweet 〈◊〉  
Of Love and Heaven, my Soul may now be Guest.   

173.  
And if it be not so, I am undone;  
Such Hunger knaws, such Thirst does burn my heart  
That by that Banquets Comfort I alone  
Can rescued be from this impatient Smart:  
And 'tis thy courteous fault, dear Phylax, who  
With its Description Me hast ravished so.   

174.  
The sickly, what but Health can satisfy?  
And what but Balsam can desired be  
To stop the Wounds wide Mouth and bloody Cry?  
What does the hunted Deer so pant to see,  
But some cool Fount, or sovereign Ditany?  
What can the Captive wish, but Liberty?   

175.  
My Health, my Balsam, and my Liberty,  
My Dear 〈◊〉, and my Fount of Bliss,  
My only Nectur and Ambrosia lie  
Treasured up in this Banquet: If I miss  
Of this my Wish, alas, what shall I do,  
What hope, what help for my increasing Woe?   

176.  
She fainted here. But Phylax reached his hand  
Unto her Arm, and Comfort to her Heart.  
I like, said He, thy noble Ardour, and  
Its fuel 〈◊〉 unto 〈◊〉 Fire impart.  
In yonder House there lives a reverend Priest  
〈◊〉 for thy pious foul will dress this Feast.   

177.  
This said; He leads 〈◊〉 Virgin thither, where  
In 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 room a 〈◊〉 of Faithful Heart's  
〈◊〉 that great Business early did prepare;  
For 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 forced them to all Arts  
Of 〈◊〉 and glad they were to choose  
Such Temples as were hidden from their Foes.   

178.  
There in a Chalice and a Dish of Wood,  
The 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 Poverty,  
The wonder of their Saviour's Flesh and Blood  
With golden Hearts they waited on. But We  
Alas in Patins and in Cups of Plate  
With Hearts of Wood this Banquet celebrate.   

179.  
They in the Stranger's Zeal-inflamed eye  
Such genuine beams of Piety descrised  
As soon dispelled all mists of Jealousy  
Which serupulous Fear had raised; unknown untried  
She is received: Besides, the holy Priest  
By Heaven was warned to entertain this Guest.   

180.  
Phylax withdrew his nimble Self into  
His Closet of Invisibility;  
Yet still attended on his Psyche; who  
Approached to the royal Mystery  
With such brave fervour, that her hungry Haste  
Almost as boundless seemed, as the Feast.   

181.  
O how her Soul into the Dish did leap,  
And dive down to the Bottom of the Cup!  
With what Inamorations did she weep!  
What sighs of Joy did break her bosom open!  
How did Fear strive with Love! How did she groan  
Between Humility, and Ambition!   

182.  
O how She thinks her Lips and Heart impure!  
And yet she cannot for a World refrain:  
She knows not how this Life she should endure,  
If from the Life of Life She must contain:  
She knows not how her Iron should for beak  
To meet the Loadstone now it was so near.   

183.  
Whilst in this dainty Agony she lay,  
Into her Mouth the Priest gives her her Bliss.  
Which to her Heart directly took its way  
And drowned it in exuberant Sweetnesses:  
She now no longer Psyche is, for she  
Is all converted into Ecftafie.   

184.  
O most Miraculous Feast, how fain my Song  
Would be Luxuriant in admiring Thee!  
But neither mine, nor Phylax's high Tongue  
Knows how to reach that lofty Harmony  
Of all united Sweets and Joys which lie  
In bounteous Loves protoundest Mystery.   

185.  
Yet may my pained Soul have leave to lay  
At this Songs foot its just and heavy Sighs;  
Which, never since mine Eyes first opened on Day  
So deeply relished Life's miseries:  
The more my shame, whose mighty Sins for Me  
Have earned this Heart-knawing Agony.   

186.  
Time was, when Heaven in this late happy 〈◊〉  
Kept open house; when this Celestial Feast  
Did freely woo all Hearts to come and fill  
Their holy Appetites with all the best  
Of antedated Bliss, and grow Divine  
With this Spiritual mighty Bread and Wine.   

187.  
But now both Feast and Board devoured are  
By a new Banquet, as jejune and dry  
As barren Air; for all this Pulpit Cheer  
Feeds but the itching Ears strange Boulimie:  
Whilst still the Heart remains as lank and thin;  
And nothing fatter grows, but lusty Sin.   

188.  
Sin fatter grows; so fat that now it dares  
Kick both at Earth and Heaven, and scorns to be  
Awed by those generous and ingenuous Fears  
Which are the Reins of Virtuous Modesty;  
It mocketh Vengeance and derideth Law,  
Because their patient Sword they slowly draw.   

189.  
O how come Christian Souls so well content  
To want the choicest Viands Heaven could give!  
O how preposterously Abstinent  
Are they who with all riotous Dainties strive  
To fortify the Belly, but can find  
No Time to Victual and enforce the Mind!   

190.  
Surely those Hero's were more prudent far  
Upon whose nearer hearts the warmer Blood  
Of Jesus dropped: not once a Month, or year,  
Ordivers Years, they with this holy Food  
Cheered up their Souls; but every Morning fed,  
And made the Lord of Life their Daily Bread.   

191.  
With Heaven this always kept their bosoms warm,  
This made Them Eaglelike their strength renew;  
With death-despising Courage this did arm  
Their gentlest Spirits; By this they Masters grew  
Of Earth and Hell, which having trampled down,  
Heaven too by Violence They made their own.   

192.  
But o, my Heart, why art Thou stealing thus  
From thine own Woes, thy Neighbours to deplore?  
Time was, when (whilst thine unsledged Wickedness  
Flew not at heavens long patient face, nor tore  
This Judgement thence,) I once a Week at least  
Could at this Board of Blessings be a Guest.   

193.  
Then with sweet Comfort could I turn mine Eye  
Back on the year, which with Delight did run;  
Then could I count what Gains I reaped by  
My constant Trading in Devotion;  
Rejoicing in my satisfied Mind  
That every Sunday I in Heaven had dined.   

193.  
But now the flaming Coursers of the Sun  
Are drawing on the fourteenth Month, since I  
Attended on the Celebration  
Of this sweet life-enlivening Mystery;  
Which yet I then was fain to steal, and so  
A Thief that Day to Paradise did go.   

194.  
I went indeed, But a Forbidden Tree  
Straight wooed my liquorish Hand, and foolish I  
Believed the flattering Bait, and would not see  
How treacherous an Hook beneath did lie.  
Dear, wondrous dear, this heedless Fault did cost Me,  
For all my heavenly Joys and Powers it lost Me,   

195.  
It lost Me all, and no Recruit was nigh,  
But I am lest aPrey to this long Fast:  
O how the Palate of my Soul is dry,  
What burning Drought doth shrivel up and waste  
The Bowels of my Heart! how is my Mind  
With most uncomfortable Squalor pined!   

196.  
O how my Understandings Pinions tyre,  
And flag below when I aloft would soar!  
What leaden Numbness damps those hopes of Fire  
With which my Fancie'gan to glow before!  
What Languor clogs my fainting Will, whilst!  
On dark unworthy Earth thus grovelling lie!   

197.  
O how this dry and barren Verse attests  
The heavy Truth of these my Lamentations!  
O pity Me, all you whose gentle Breasts  
E'er felt the Stings of Mystical Vexations!  
Pity Me, o my candid Readers, now  
What makes me tyre your Patience, you know.   

198.  
Had I my wont Share in that dear Feast  
Which with celestial Spirits embraves the Heart;  
A fairer Banquet I for You had dressed;  
Who now can only by my pined Smart  
Warn You to prize, and to embrace with 〈◊〉  
Religious Tenderness, what I have lost.   

199.  
Lost hitherto: But must that Loss run on,  
And can my Life mean while make good its Name?  
Can Day maintain herself, if once the Sun  
Deny to feed her with his vital Flame?  
Can Rivers keep their constant full-tide Course,  
If once the living Spring doth them divorce?   

201.  
O tender King of Love, whose sumptuous Care  
For hungry Hearts that high Provision made,  
Behold my starved Soul lies gasping here  
For one dear Crumb of thy mysterious Bread,  
And craves to cool its burning Tongue, one Drop  
Of liquid Life from thy all-saving Cup.   

202.  
I know my worthlessness, sweet Lord, and how  
Unfit I am to look for any Share  
In those peculiar Delicates, which Thou  
For thine own genuine Children didst prepare:  
Yet to a Dog once more thy leave afford  
To catch what falleth from thy children's Bord.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XIII. The Death of Love.  
ARGUMENT.  

LOve, having Lived for Man, is pleased to Die,  
To make his purchase sure by Life and Death;  
Through Earth's profoundest Gulf of Tyranny,  
And the vast Ocean of heavens mighty Wrath  
He nobly waded; and upon the Shore,  
Having first spent his Blood, his Soul did pour.   

1.  
Soul of all Sweets, o Life, how dear art Thou  
To all that ever had a Taste of Thee!  
How much of Heaven itself infused doth flow  
Into the region of thy Suavity!  
Indeed Heaven were not Heaven, did it not join  
To make itself, by Marrying Thee, divine,   

2.  
Thou in the Centre of Divinity  
Before the Birth of Ages hadst thy Spring,  
Where thou didst sweetly Smile amidst the Three  
Most undivided One, and traversing  
Those Heights & Depths of Blessedness, didst through  
Eternity's immense Expansion flow   

3.  
Thence, when the World burst out from Nothing, thou  
Didst spare some Streams Created Hearts to cheer:  
No Bosoms with that Influence did glow,  
But of thy Sweets they strait enamoured were,  
Which, as their richest dearest Jewels, they  
Close in the heart of their own Hearts did lay,   

4.  
Their Goods, their Parents, or their Children were  
Not half so precious to Them, as Thou:  
Their Joints, their Limbs, their Skin, they well could spare  
Their tender Name and Fame, they could allow.  
A Prey to Injury, so they by them  
Might Thee, and thy Security 〈◊〉   

5.  
The vilest Worm, whom Thou dost please to grace,  
Forgetteth not that worth he gains by Thee:  
He shoots his warey Self from place to place,  
And, when oppressed, feeble though he be,  
He turns again, and with the strongest Foe  
Tries what for thy deer Rescue He can do.   

6.  
The wretched Serpent is content to feed  
On basest Dust, rather than part with Thee;  
Though Curses pour their Streams upon his head,  
He makes his Body all one Helmet be  
To sheltre it; and rolls himself about  
Himself, to keep all mortal violence out.   

7.  
Nay when the Sword or Wand its way has cut  
Quite through his Circles, till his Body be  
An heap of fragments; He himself doth knit  
Even by the Cement of his Wounds, till He  
Grows One again; So loath he is to die,  
Though his damned life be but his Misery.   

8.  
What Voyages will silly Swallows take  
Warm Seasons round about the World to chase!  
What hard shift will the hunted Partridge make  
To shun the greedy griffins deadly face!  
What Wings of Speed, what Tricks, and Sleights will fear  
Of Death, soon teach the close-pursued Hare!   

6.  
In how great Sweat and Pains do Pismires spend  
Their warmer Months, to reap and carry home  
Their Cropp, which in the Cold, may them befreind  
With Sustentation, and defend Them from  
The fear of losing that poor Life, which They,  
In love of it, to endless Toil betray   

10.  
The most industrious never-tired Bee  
Flies through all Summer, knocking at the door  
Of every likely Flower, where thoughtful she  
Can borrow aught towards her Winter Store;  
And thus for love of Life, her honey trade  
A bitter course of Painfulness is made,   

11.  
Yea, even the simplest Weed, whose Life doth but  
Preserve that Stink with which She taints the air,  
When Winter 'gins its chains of Frost to put  
Upon the Earth, makes all her Spirits repair  
Down to the Root: for rather than be dead,  
Alive She chooseth to be buried.   

12.  
But yet no Creature with such painful Pains  
Doth purchase Life's Security, as Man:  
What Plots and Projects tumble in his brains,  
What Cares and Labours make Him faint and wan  
Earth open house to all things else doth keep,  
But He must sow before he looks to reap.   

13.  
A tedious Prentisehood He spends, to learn  
How he may toil himself another Day,  
And by his still-returning Labours ern  
What will support his Strength, that still He may  
Be grappling with his Work; for his own S wet  
Must be the constant Sauce unto his Meat,   

14.  
To get a Living, 's a sufficient Charm  
T' allure him through the most portentous Sea;  
To make him scorn the most out ragious Storm  
Though Death within three Inches of Him be;  
To fire him unto all impieties,  
Defying Vengeance, and the Thundering Skies.   

15.  
A Charm sufficient to make him List  
Himself an Enemy to the life of Man;  
Whilst he fears not to make his stoney breast  
Harder, by martial Steel and Brass, and can  
Without all blushing take his bloody Pay,  
For his Endeavours daily to Destroy.   

16.  
O wondrous Riddle though eternal Death  
Invitably be entailed upon  
His monstrous Crimes; Yet He his present Breath  
Esteems so dear, that still he dares run on  
In any Deadly Wickedness, which may  
Maintain that life which must 〈◊〉 long 〈◊〉.   

17.  
Indeed the Man whose swelling Coffers bring  
Him forth free choice of all the dainty Store  
Which Land or Sea can yield to cheer a King,  
May find some feeling reason to adore  
His Jollse Life: But what convincing Plea  
Can Beggars move to this 〈◊〉   

18.  
Yet They who are so destitute within  
And poor without, that equally they want  
Both Food wherewith to fill their wretened Skin,  
And Clothes to cover it; are well content  
On these hard tenns to live, nor 〈◊〉 They be  
By any Death quit of this 〈◊〉   

19  
The woeful Captive, whose dark Dungeon is  
No other but his antedated Grave,  
Though neither Light nor open air be his,  
Yet hugs his Life, as dear, as the brave  
And lusty Gallant, who himself can please  
With all the Fat of pleasure and of case.   

20.  
The Leper clothed in his winding sheet  
By his disease, abhors the thought of death:  
Life still is even in his dead Body sweet,  
And full as precious He esteems his Breath  
As doth the Virgin whose fair Bodies dress  
Of native Lilies, and of Roses is.   

21.  
He who doth in a Fevers furnace fry,  
Would yet not Cool himself within his Grave;  
But hires Physicians costly Industry  
To study out some way how He may save  
His torturing Life: Notfor 〈◊〉 World would He  
By Death's, most 〈◊〉 Physic eased be.   

22.  
The lamentable Galleyslave, who is  
Fast chained to perpetual Misery,  
Still toils and rows through the tempestuous Seas,  
Without all Hopes that any Port can be  
An Haven of Rest to Him; and yet full dear  
He holds that Life which holds him Prisoner there.   

23.  
She whom a Siege begins so close, that she  
Is crowded up to nought but Bones and Skin,  
Flies from the thought of gaining Liberty  
By Death's Assistance; and will rather win  
Upon her Bowels to devour her child  
Than be by Famine of her Life 〈◊〉.   

24.  
The cursed Traitor who is chained alive  
Unto his Chair of Death; though he be sure  
It needs must be in vain for Life to strive;  
Yet in strong Love of it, he will endure  
To feed on his own Arms, that so He may  
What e'er it cost Him, Live one other day.   

25.  
He who disjointed on the Rack doth lie,  
Although his Body now no more be his,  
After a thousand 〈◊〉, is to the to die,  
And any Crime is willing to Confess.  
He doth Confess what needs must be his Death,  
Only to gain a little longer breath,   

26.  
Thus all the Gall that sharpest Misery  
Into the heart of Mortal Life can pour  
Meets there such Powers of vital suavity  
As conquer all its Bitterness: Suct store  
Of precious Delicates as dare despise  
The keepest force of all Calamities.   

27.  
Snatch what you will from Man, besides, and He  
Will stoutly set his shoulders to sustain  
His Loss; but if his Life required be,  
In vain all Comforts fawn on Him; in vain  
Are Crowns and Sceptres proffered Him, a price  
Too poor to hire Him to his Obsequies.   

28.  
Since then the Life even of the meanest Wight  
Scorns to be balanced with the richest Treasure;  
O then what mighty Depth of Worth, or Height  
Of purest preciousness can serve to measure  
The value of the Life of Jesus, which  
Doth earth with all the best of Heaven enrich?   

29.  
A Life more worth than all the Breath which 〈◊〉  
The panting Hearts of the whole World beside;  
Moore worth than all the Tract of Ages, and  
Old 〈◊〉 himself: A Life which nobly vieed  
With vast 〈◊〉, so sweet, immense,  
And pure was its Miraculous Excellence.   

30.  
For whilst all Humane Life was by the Breath  
Of the contagious Serpent tainted So,  
That by the rankling Principles of Death  
It from its Cradie was condemned unto  
Its Hearse; He's kept unsteind, and scorned all  
The gaping Graves Pleas for his Funeral.   

31.  
Yet this dear Life of his he held less dear  
Than worthless men; so generous was his Love  
That He his own Heart's Blood could freely spare  
To ransom theirs; desiring so to prove  
Even by their own Souls Rule, that they to Him  
More dear than his all precious Self did seem.   

32.  
They, and the worst of them; for he did not  
Pick out some worthy Friends, for whose sweet sake  
His Life 〈◊〉 was content to offer; but  
Even for his 〈◊〉 that dear Oblation make.  
〈◊〉 was Leves highest Gallantry, and fit  
For Him who was the Mighty King of it.   

33.  
This was the brave Exploit which Phylax now,  
To ravish Psyche's Heart, meant to display.  
For though the business she before did know,  
Yet 'twas at Distance: Circumstances may  
Make deep Impression, and the present Scene  
Of Miracles, more Admiration win.   

34.  
Besides, he knew her Soul was fired now  
With noble vigour from the Heavenly Board,  
And would delight to tower and travel through  
The 〈◊〉 wonders of her loving Lord.  
This made him bring her from the sacred Cave,  
When by the holy Kiss she'd took her leave,   

35.  
Then up he leads her unto calvary,  
The Hill of Marveils, that that Prospect might  
Yield her with uncontrolled Liberty  
Of Love's chief stations an open sight:  
And there arrived, Mark now, my Deer, said He,  
What further Wonders Jesus did for thee.   

36.  
Wert Thou enthroned on the proudest Hill  
Which on the glorious Back of Heaven doth rise,  
Thou couldst not with a nobler spectacle  
Feast the brave Hunger of thy wondering Eyes,  
Than from this Mountains most renowned Head  
Thou by my Finger, and my Tongue shalt read.   

37.  
In yonder street of Ruins, once there stood  
The High-preist Anna's House; but Caiaphas  
Who was his Son by Marriage, not by Blood,  
(Unless joint thirst of guiltless Blood may pass  
For 〈◊〉,) His Dwelling had  
Where now thou see'st that Heap of rubbish made.   

38.  
Those caitiffs, who had in the Garden seized  
Upon thy Lord to Annas hulled him first,  
To see what Censure his grave spite was pleased  
To pass on Him for whom it long did thirst:  
But He, with cruel Favour Him dismissed  
Unto his Son, the bolder bloodier Priest.   

39  
Thus, through the 〈◊〉, and Scorn, to 〈◊〉  
Is Jesus sed: He smiled within, to see  
With what success his Bargain crowned was,  
And thought his Money well bestowed which He  
To 〈◊〉 gave: Yet in his Face, and Eye  
He still maintained his Priestly 〈◊〉.   

40.  
So hast thou seen a Lion cast his Eye  
Upon his harmless Prey with grave Disdain,  
As if he could afford to pass it by;  
Whilst He his greedy Paws can scarce contain,  
Or with his Teeth bite in their own Des  
Of Blood: so certain is his savage Ire.   

41.  
Like one who jealous was of Peace, and Law,  
He calls Him to account, and asks Him why  
He strove Disciples after Him to draw,  
And with his newfound Doctrine multiply  
Sects in the Church, and 〈◊〉 in the State;  
Both which religious Loyalty must hate,   

42.  
(Such Impudence upon Sin's face doth reign  
That whilst the Laws of Heaven and Earth she breaks;  
She dares on Innocence throw her own stein,  
And in high Zealloud exclamations make  
Against all Innovations, which on Them  
She chargeth, for whose blood her Thirst doth flame.)   

43.  
Thy Lord well understood his vain Demand;  
And, why, said He, requirest Thou this of me?  
Lo my Accusers crowd on either hand,  
Who in their spite against Me, all agree.  
My Doctrine public was; Hear then what 〈◊〉  
Against Me, now I challenge Them, can say,   

44.  
Tin no Conventicles Cloisters did  
shroud any Lessons that I meant to preach:  
The Synagogue and Temple witnessed,  
And so did they Themselves, what I did teach.  
My Gospel it concerned the World to know;  
And from my Lips in public it did flow.   

45.  
This said. A 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 who 〈◊〉 by,  
First bend his angry Brow, and 〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉,  
With which at Jesu's Face his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
Crying, Bold fellow, can Goas 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 no 〈◊〉 Answer? Now we see  
What 〈◊〉 of Manners grow 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

46.  
Wouldst 〈…〉  
The 〈…〉?  
For how 〈…〉  
〈…〉 who though He 〈◊〉  
This 〈…〉  
Can yet approve himself both? 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉.   

47.  
But hear what from the Lamb's Mouth Meekness spoken:  
If in my Answer any Crime there be,  
Accuse Me Thou, and let the Highpriest look  
That legal Justice be performed on Me:  
If not: before the face of Justice Seat,  
Why dost Thou mine injuriously beat?   

48.  
Soft was this Answer; but their Breasts were Stone  
And beat it back: The unrelenting Priest  
With all the Scribes and Elders joined in one  
Conspiracy of Haste, their Projects cast  
To hire Falsewitnesse, as before they bought  
That Treason which Him Prisoner thither brought.   

49.  
Is this the reverend Sanhedrim, which here  
Hunts for a Lie, that Truth may not escape?  
Must gross Injustice poison Mose's Chair?  
Must bloody Spite put on Religion's shape?  
No wonder if the People forward be  
To tread their Leaders Steps to Injury.   

50.  
Whole Troops of Witnesses came thronging in  
With thicker Articles: When Rulers dare  
Once egg the Vulgar on to act that sin  
In which Themselves cannot for shame appear,  
Bold Calumny thinks Law is on her side,  
And with all furious Impudence doth ride.   

51.  
But this rude Rout were younglins yet, and raw  
Knights of the Post, and had not conned their Lie  
With wary Art: As yet They did not know  
What need they had of perfect Memory:  
This made each one of Them accuse his Brother,  
Whilst all their Stories jarred on One another.   

52.  
Yet They must not be chidden, whose Intent  
Aimed only at the Public Good; lest this  
Should unto others prove Discouragement,  
Who might urge Articles with more Success.  
Alas, those Men were well-affected, but  
Quite out of Countenance by the Court were put.   

53.  
Their honest Meaning by the Sanbedrim  
Is kindly construed and with Thanks requited;  
That others might with subtler Art to trim  
Their fairer Accusations be invited;  
For still the patient Court expects to see  
Who will the next Calumniators be.   

54.  
But when the first Miscarriage did dismay  
All other Liars: Satan, who stood by,  
Quick as his Thought, snatched unto Hell his way  
To fetch some help, leasts the Priest's Villainy,  
And his great Hopes, should intercepted be:  
Such care to murder thy dear Spouse had He   

55.  
Deep in the bowels of eternal Night,  
And neighbour to the black Court of Damnation,  
A Den there is where Stinks with Stinks do fight,  
And Ejulation roar at Ejulation;  
Where Horrors Horrors fright, and where Dispair  
The face of Desperation doth tear.   

56.  
Hither came He: When lo the Iron Door  
Gaped like the thirsty Earth to drink him in,  
Whilst from its joyful Mouth the Cave did pour  
A Stream of flaming Sulphur, to begin  
Its Sovereign's Welcome; whom that Compliment  
(Such was his princely Grace,) did well content.   

57  
For in He went, and there his Daughter saw  
Busy in pouring everflaming Lead  
Upon her Captive Souls, whom Lie did throw  
Into that boiling Curse. Upon her Bed  
Of red-hot Iron, not yet cooled lay  
Lust's Holocaust, Madam Potiphera.   

58.  
She lay and bit, and roared and bit again  
Her slanderous Tongue, whence deadly Shafts she shot  
At holy Joseph, when She had in vain  
Spent all her eyes Artillery, and what  
Soft Blandishments her Wit could muster up  
To bring about her hot and lustful Hope.   

59  
There lay that foul-mouthed Ten, whose envious 〈◊〉  
Blasted the florid Sweets of Canaan,  
Spreading a Dearth upon Fertility,  
And spewing Gall where Milk and Honey ran:  
They cursed amain, and still their Lie maintained  
In spite of Death which in their Bosoms reigned.   

60.  
There lay that Pair of Venal Souls, who by  
Their hired Lie effected Naboths death;  
Acting themselves that foul Impiety  
With which They slandered Him: With flaming breath  
God and the King they curse, and wish all Hell  
Melted into the Heart of jezebel.   

61.  
Th' Assyrian Railer there his Throat did rend  
With 〈◊〉 assertion of his Blasphemy;  
Avouching still that God himself did send  
Him to extirpate all the Jews: And why  
Fond Rabsheka, does He thus deep torment Thee?  
For that bold Errand, if on it he sent Thee?   

62.  
There lay that slanderous Pair of Elders who  
Susanna did so reverently belie.  
At her their Accusations still they throw,  
And swear they found her in Adultery;  
Yet with more fury they on Daniel rail,  
Crying, See how Injustice may prevail.   

63.  
These, and ten thousand more lay roaring there,  
Whilst the remorseless Mistress of the Den  
Triumphed in their Tortures: Never Bear  
With such intemperate Fierceness raged when  
Her hungry Teeth were flinging open their way  
Through the Bowels of her helpless Prey.   

64.  
Fell Calumny it was: a monstrous She;  
Her Forehead was composed of seau'nfold Brass;  
An obstinate swarthiness which scorned to be  
Pierced by any Blush, grew on her face;  
Her hollow Eyes with peevish Spite were filled,  
Her pouting Lips with deadly Venom swelled.   

65.  
Her dreadful Jaws replenished Quivers were  
Where Darts, and Spears, and Pikes, and Arrows stood  
Prepared and sharpened all for mortal War:  
Her mouth no Moisture knew, but blended Blood  
Of Asps and Basilisks, which she sucked in  
To spit sure Mischief upon guiltless Men.   

66.  
The Stings of Ten choice Dragons joined in one,  
Was all the Tongue wherewith She had to speak:  
This made her language pure Destruction,  
For certain Death at every Word did break  
Forth from her Lips, if not at their first Sound,  
Yet most infallibly at their Rebound.   

67.  
Her Brain is that mischievous Shop in which  
As every other Slander forged was:  
So that which did all Parallels outstretch,  
And dared Omnipotence's sovereign Face,  
Proclaiming that thy Lord not by his own,  
But Belzebubs Power, did tread the Devils down.   

68  
When ever any rankling Canker breeds  
Kingdoms or Countries ruinous Overthrow,  
Her viperous Trade it is, the fatal Seeds  
Of restless Fears and Jealousies to sow  
In People's Hearts, whilst She ten thousand Lies  
To blast their Ruler's Credit doth devise.   

69.  
She spying now her royal Father there,  
His Benediction begged upon her Knee:  
Bless Me dear Sire, said She, and give Me here  
Some new found Engine of fresh Cruelty:  
These Souls are used too kindly; all their Pains  
Grow stale and cold, familiar their Chains.   

70.  
Fear not; it shall be so, cried Satan; but  
Sweet Child, another Work first craves our Care:  
Him whom I deepliest hate, my Art has got  
With Judas help, fast in a fatal Snare;  
I mean, that Galilean Beggar, who  
Has Me and all my Fiends abused so,   

71.  
But now the Priests forsooth, are so demure  
(And I'll remember't when I get them here,)  
That though they in the Project did conjure,  
And bought that Christ even at a Rate too dear,  
Their Holinesses some pretence must have  
How in Destroying Him, their Fame to save,   

72.  
Confusion on their Fame; who though they dread  
Not what the Thundering Wrath of Heaven can do  
In vindication of a guiltless Head;  
Stand in base awe of the vile Vulgar so,  
That they confess most Infamous Impiety  
Whilst They the People make their only Deity.   

73.  
Base-hearted Hypocrites! Can they not be  
Brave venturous Sinners, like to Me their Prince?  
Yet since they needs will sneak to Hell; sure We  
For once will help the Fools, to their Pretence:  
They want Falsewitnesse for a Cloak, and Thou  
This Livery canst best on Them bestow.   

74.  
But see Thou mould'st up some Athletic Lie  
Whose burly Bulk all Truth may over-bear.  
Some petty sucking Knaves their best did try,  
But strait their ill-shod Tales did enter-fér,  
On Thee the Work depends. Come let's away,  
The High-priests Court, or rather Mine, doth stay.   

75.  
This said: his Daughter by the hand He took,  
And with more sprightful speed then Indian Arrow  
Cuts through the tender whining Air, he broke  
Earth's sturdy obstacles, and posted through  
The sullen clogging Mass, until He came  
Back to his other Home, Jerusalem.   

76.  
There when he saw the Council at a stand  
Gaping and staring one upon another,  
He spied withal, two itching Rogues at hand  
Scratching their heads, and beating them together:  
He knew their meaning, and through both their hearts  
Unfeen, unheard, his Daughter straight he darts   

77.  
As when the Bosom of the Delphic Priest  
Began to boil with his desired Hell,  
His Rapture by his Gestures he confessed,  
Hastening to vent his belching Oracle;  
So this accursed Pair, now kindled by  
The Fury sped to belch out their Lie.   

78.  
For strait each flung his hand above his head,  
And cried, I have it sure; let's to the bar:  
And when their Projects they examined,  
They found that both in one Mould fashioned were:  
At which they kissed, and shaked hands, and pressed  
With full-mouthed Accusation to the Priest.   

79.  
Great Caiaphas, and ye the 〈◊〉  
The holy Guardians of heavens reverend Law,  
Hear Us, said They, who will object to Him  
No hearsay stories, but what we both saw  
And beard; and may henceforth nor Eye nor Ear  
If we speak what is false, or see, or Hear.   

80.  
We saw him strutting in the Temple, where  
His most blasphemous Pride he broached, and cried,  
I will destroy this house which Hands did rear,  
And build another full as fair and wide  
Without the Help of Hands; as if bold He  
No Mortal were, but some great Deity.   

81.  
Nay to be sure his Blasphemy might want  
No Compliment of desperate Impudence,  
Though six and forty years he knew were spent  
In compassing that works Magnificence,  
He blushed not to avouch that in three days  
The Fabric to perfection he would raise.   

82.  
But Psyche, how shall Feeble Waves prevail  
Against impenetrable Rocks! in vain  
This wretched Lie endeavoured to assail  
Unshaken Truth which did in Jesus reign;  
And split itself, could the blind Judge's eye  
Have seen its shivers, which about did fly.   

83.  
For grant this Article were full as true  
As it is false; Why must it branded be  
As Blasphemous in Him, who in the view  
Ofample witness proved his Potency  
Sufficient was the Temple to restore,  
When He from Death her Captive Lazarus tore.   

84.  
But straight a Murmur rolld about the Hall,  
Which the Fond People tossed from one another:  
The Council gravely shaked their heads; and all  
Mingled their jealous Whisper together:  
Till Caiaphas stood up, and asked thy Lord,  
Why He no kind of Answer would afford.   

85.  
Jesus, who never spilt a word in vain,  
For sweet and precious was his blessed Breath,  
Would no Reply unto that witness deign  
Which shameless Falsehood venteth; and which hath  
Its Answer in its self, to any Ear  
But that which is resolved not to hear.   

86.  
Wherefore the Priest, advisd by Satan, now  
Contests him deep, to try if He could make  
Him prove his own Accuser: All Men know,  
Said He, those towering Words of thine must speak  
A more than Mortal Power; nor must thou hope  
Thy silence now shall lock the Business up.   

87.  
For by the everliving God, whose Name  
Too glorious is on Mortal Tongues to sit,  
I here conjure Thee clearly to proclaim  
Whither Thou be the Christ, whom Holy Writ  
Has promised to the World, that Blessed One,  
The Heir of Heaven, and Gods eternal Son.   

88  
O who would think this Consecrated Tongue  
Which with such reverential Awe doth make  
Mention of God; mean while should burn in strong  
Thirst of most guiltless Blood! But Hell can break  
Even into Heaven itself, and Satan dare  
Before God's Throne amongst his Sons appear.   

89.  
And He his Scholars teacheth to begin  
The foulest Crimes with Gods all-beauteous Name,  
That so more easily He may usher in  
What else by plain and necessary shame  
Would be obstructed. Thus the Charmers Tongue  
Distils his Poison through his dainty song.   

90.  
But he who came Truth's glorious Lamp to light,  
Was pleased now to give a full Reply:  
His Heaven, his Sire, Himself, did him excite  
Himself, his Sire, his Heaven not to deny.  
In Me, said He, fulfilled your Scriptures are,  
I am God's Son, and heavens apparent Heir.   

91.  
And though your Eyes now look such Scorn on Me,  
Time comes when they shall melt in tears for this,  
When on the Clouds high Chariot they shall see  
My Majesty in Glories high Excess,  
And at the first glimpse of my Power know  
I have a Judgement Seat, as well as you.   

92.  
No sooner was this generous Truth professed,  
But Caiaphas in deep dissimulation  
His politic but bloody Malice dressed;  
And starting from his seat in zealous Passion,  
Tore his own Clothes, in token of his high  
Distaste at that presumed Blasphemy.   

93.  
'Tis true, his Law did clearly Him forbid  
To rend his Clothes: but what cared He for Law,  
Who now about Injustice beat his Head,  
And only aimed how He the World might draw  
Into opinion that the Prisoners Case  
Beyond all possible holy Patience was.   

94.  
Vain Hypocrite, keep thy Clothes whole to hide  
Thy shameless self, whom Thou one day shalt tear  
For setting forth this Emblem, which doth bid  
The People use the Prisoner at the Bar,  
As Thou thy Robe: But they are dull, and yet  
Read not what Thou commend'st to Them by it.   

95.  
They read it not. But, Psyche, bloody He  
Awakes their drowsy cruelty, and cries,  
What need we further Witnesses? for ye  
Yourselves have heard his wide-mouthed Blasphemies.  
Speak what you think; the Case seems unto Me  
So plain, that I dare let you Judges be.   

96.  
O Righteous Judge, and worthy of the Chair  
Of reverend Moses, who doth first invite  
The People unto Blood, and then repair  
Unto their Sentence! Whither Wrong or Right,  
Speak what think ye, a Firebrand is, and will  
Kindle the Fury of their Murdering Zeal.   

97.  
For when the Bloodhounds feel their feet are loose,  
They strait pursue the Sent, and with joint Cry  
Proclaim him guilty: And, say They, may Those  
Not live, who think He is not fit to Die.  
This roaring Sentence served the turn; and so  
Abused Jesus for Condemned doth go.   

98.  
What matter though the sacred Rolls can show  
No Statute, which, as due, his Life demands?  
This Popular extemporal Vote, is Law  
Enough to yield Him into barbarous Hands,  
And He, so foul and monstrous is his Cause,  
Must die for breaking that which never was.   

99  
Forthwith the busy Officers, and all  
The insolent Servants take Him as their Prey;  
And setting him amidst the smoky Hall,  
Make his unmoved Patience their Play.  
Where, as a Preface to his deep disgrace,  
Their odious Scorn they spit upon his Face.   

100  
One at his Mouth, another at his Eyes,  
One at his Nose, another at his Beard,  
His Slaver aims, and impudently tries  
To shoot his shame with Art. Was ever heard  
Such putrid Cruelty Where are, o Jews,  
Your Eyes, and Face, that thus you His abuse;   

101.  
Have not all Beauties made their graceful seat  
In this Majestic Look? Is Libanus,  
Is Paradise, is Heaven, so fair and sweet?  
Are Phebu's Eyes so purely glorious?  
Is delicate Aurora's April Cheek  
So roseal as this, so soft, so sleek?   

102.  
Cull out ten thousand of the fairest Faces  
Where goodly Feature ever made her home,  
And draw an Extract of their richest Graces;  
Yet that bright Quincessence must 〈◊〉 come  
Into the presence of these Looks, to which  
All Humane Beauties cannot hope to reach.   

103.  
For ne'er did milder purer Loveliness,  
Crowned with the best of Comlinesse's Joys.  
Flourish upon so fair a Throne as His  
Accomplished Countenance; in which the Choice  
Jewels of most incomparable Grace  
Had every one their goodly proper place.   

104.  
And must this blessed Face of Sweets alone  
Be made the Sink of your vile Excrement:  
Much rather upon Caiapha's, or on  
Great Cesar's Cheeks your spital might be spent,  
Or on the Starts whose Fires all lighted were  
At those bright Eyes your Filth becloudeth here.   

105.  
Is this the pay his spital must receive.  
His Sovereign spital, which unto the Blind  
His never known nor hop d for Sight did give,  
That now Himself his own pure Eyes Must find  
Drowned in the Scum of your foul Mouths!— O stay  
Dear Psyche, I have something more to say.   

106.  
Thy pious Tears are ready broached, I see  
To wash this filth from off thy Spouses face;  
But rein them in a while, that they may be  
Officious unto His more deep Diego grace.  
The greatest Griefs are still behind; More great  
Than thine, or then the whole World's Tears can wet   

107.  
These Varlets when their clotted spital had  
Made his bedaubed Countenance so foul,  
That They their own Works Sight abhorred; their Bad  
They turn to Worse: for strait a Cloth they roll  
About his patient Head; which should have been  
Rather to Wipe, and gently make it clean.   

108.  
Thus having Blinded all the World's sweet Light;  
Some with their Fists, some with their Cudgels fly  
Upon his nead and shoulders; and their Spite  
So gamesome is, that he must not deny  
To make them sport, although his Bruises be  
Of Groans more reason, than of Jollity.   

109.  
The petulant caitiffs as they thresh Him, cry,  
Great Sir, We know you are a Man of God,  
And Pray you would be pleased to Prophesy  
Whose Hand it is that strikes you, or whose Rod.  
No matter though your Eyes that Towel bind,  
Prophets are Seers, and cannot be blind   

110.  
No surer way could Peevishness contrive  
Its most malicious Self to multiply;  
For every Jeer they cast, and Struck they give  
Is now improved, and doth double fly,  
Whilst, by the Art of Spight, to over-bear him.  
Each Jeer does Strike Him, and each Stroke doth Jeer Him.   

111.  
Ignoble Scorn, and sordid Insultation  
Add Bitterness unto the Soul of Gall,  
And lend new stings of torturing Vexation  
To the most barbarous Racks, when e'er they fall  
On generous Spirits; O then with what profound  
Grief did these Taunts thy Lords brave bosom wound!   

112.  
But on your Heads, bold Worms, your Mocks rebound,  
And, though you little think it, Jesus sees  
Your antic Cruelty, and the profound  
Abysses of your foul Impieties,  
Even your black Hearts, whose Secrets He one day  
Open to the whole World's view, and hate, shall lay,   

113.  
You than shall need no Prophecy to declare  
Who stroke the first, or who the second Blow;  
Whose Strokes most hard, whose Jeers most bitter were  
Who did the quaintest Wit of Malice show:  
Your foul Exploits shall then be printed fair  
Upon your Foreheads, and themselves declare.   

114.  
Whilst at this working Play they busy were,  
Jesus ne'er shrunk, or sought to shield his head;  
But was as ready all their Spite to bear  
As they to heap it on him: Never did  
The patient Anvil more unmoved stand  
Under the Labouring Smith his iron hand.   

115.  
For He himself resolved was to wade  
Through the Red Sea of all Disgrace and Pain,  
To bless and sanctify the noble Trade  
Of Patience, and by his Example train  
His faithful Martyrs; and instruct them how  
Unto a noble Army they might grow.   

116.  
At length they with his Sufferance wearied,  
In mere compassion of themselves give over,  
And take the Cloth from his Victorious Head,  
Which now to deeper Grief did Him discover;  
For his Disciple strait he heard and saw  
〈◊〉 him with a far more violent Blow.   

117.  
Peter, of late so brave and valiant, who  
Had boasted that the grimmest face of Death  
Should not out-look his Faith and Duty to  
His Lord and Master; with the selfsame breath  
Had twice renounced his Allegiance, and  
Now on the Brink of his third fall did stand.   

118.  
For as he lingered in the Hall to see  
What would become of Jesus, One who was  
A busy Actor in the Treachery  
Under foul Judas Conduct, cries, alas  
In vain this Rogue himself strives to conceal,  
His Galilaean Tongue doth him reveal   

119.  
His hand then clapping on his Shoulder, I  
Full well remember thy bald Pate, said He;  
Nay never stare, nor study for a Lie,  
For in the Garden I did meet with Thee.  
And Sirrah, know that now I have you here,  
I will revenge my Cousin Malchu's ear.   

120.  
Think not this leathern staring Pair of yours  
Can pay the Debt you owe his single One:  
We know the Witch your Lord, whose conjuring Powers  
Can clapp them on again: But by the Throne  
Of God I vow, that now I'll take a course  
To make thee sure, spite of all Magic force,   

121.  
It is no running nor no squulking now;  
Here are no Shades nor Trees to hide your Head;  
D'y see your goodly Master yonder, how  
With his foul Gild oppressed and silenced,  
Like a dumb Post he stands? Friend, you must go,  
And in his Censure be his Follower too.   

122.  
As when the Waves came tumbling in his Way,  
Faint-hearted Peter, though his Lord were by,  
Did all his Confidence in Him betray,  
And therefore sunk: so his Accusers Cry  
Now storming in his ears, with faithless fear  
He gives this Tempest leave to domineer.   

123.  
Yet there He craved his Saviors help; but now  
He sinks so deep, that He despairs of that,  
And with vile Cowardice contriveth how  
To save his wretched Skin: He cares not what  
He Swears, or how he Lies, so any Shift  
Him from his Panic Gulf may serve to lift.   

124.  
O harken all ye Confident Mortals, who  
Presume your strength may scorn the Battery  
Of any earthly or infernal Foe:  
This Heart of late did beat with full as high  
Resolves as yours; but now it melts away,  
And all his Courage yieldeth to Dismay.   

125.  
By Heaven, he cries, and Him who Heaven did frame  
By all the Temple and the sacred Law,  
By the great Sanhedrim, by pilate's Name,  
By Caesar's Head, by whatsoever I know  
Divine or reverend, I freely swear  
I have no knowledge of that Prisoner there   

126.  
If I were with him in the Garden, may  
I never enter into Paradise;  
In Abraham's Bosom may I never lay  
My Head, if it did ever rest in His;  
Nay, may all Egypt's Plagues, and Sodoms Flame  
Be mine, if till to day I knew his Name.   

127.  
Right lusty are thine Oaths, and generously  
Thy daring Curses thou dost thunder out,  
Replied the Soldier; and why might not I  
For once mistaken be? For without doubt  
Thou never serv'dst that sheepish Master there  
Who canst so bravely Curse, and stoutly Swear,   

128.  
Thus did He gain his too dear Liberty  
And lost Himself: But as He sneaked away,  
A Crowing Cock awaked his Memory  
Into the fair light of his Duties Day;  
For his apostate Eyes did now repent,  
And back to Jesus with Submission went.   

129.  
When lo, Mild He who could no Pity find  
For his own most abused Innocence,  
With ready Beams of heavenly kindness shined  
Upon his Servants traitorous offence;  
Forewarning Peter how to use his Sheep  
When into any Error they should leap.   

130.  
Denied Jesus would not Him Deny;  
But spoke his Pardon By his gracious Look  
Yet so that He might easily descry  
In the soft lines of that pathetic Book  
What undeserved and deep engraved Smart  
His falsehood made in his dear Saviour's Heart.   

131.  
How powerful and how long a Sermon He  
Preached in th' Epitome of this short Glance!  
But with such speed all Wonders use to be  
Atcheived whensoever Omnipotence  
Is pleased to work: for here it showed its Art,  
Witness the Miracle in Peter's heart.   

132.  
For this most Potent Glance subdued Him so,  
That driven by holy Shame, He seeketh where  
To weep away his odious Crime, And lo,  
His Tears now Bitterer than his Curses were.  
Thus when the Sun on sturdy Ice doth look,  
It straight reputes into a running Brook.   

133.  
But now Aurora from the roseal East  
Had newly dressed, and sent out the Day;  
To finish his Design of Night, the Priest  
To Pilate doth dispatch thy Lord away:  
Nor needs He teach his Miscreants what to do,  
Who Spites fell Trade had better learned than so.   

134.  
For straight the boisterous Rout with Cords and Chains  
Load JESU'S Hands and Feet, and hurry him  
To Pilat's Palace: All the Streets and Lanes  
Sweat with tumultuous Crowds, who poured their stream  
Of Scoffs, of Curses, and of Blasphemy  
Upon his innocent Head, as He passed by.   

135.  
Hast Thou not seen how in a silver Night  
The mad-brained Doogs all gather in the Street,  
Where with united Barkings at the Light  
Of beauteous Phebe, Heaven and Earth they beat?  
Such and so causeless were the Clamours which  
Against thy Lord these railing Curs did stretch.   

136.  
Arrived thus at the Pretorium, They  
In to the Governor the Prisoner send;  
For this with them was a Religious Day,  
And no unholy Place forsooth could stand  
With their strict Piety, who cleansed were  
To celebrate their reverend Passover.   

137.  
Shame on their foul Hypocrisy, who in  
The midit of this their zealous Sanctity  
With eager fury strive to act a Sinn  
To monstrous to be exprated by  
Their greatest Sacrifices Power; and strain  
By this Lamb's blood their Paschall Lamb to slain.   

138.  
But when the Judge came forth, and asked them what  
Offence exposed Jesu's Life to Law?  
The surly Priests grew insolently hot,  
And cried, We hoped the Governor e'er now  
Had understood that our grave Sanhedrim  
No Malefactors makes without a Crime.   

139.  
Can it be thought that We would load a Lamb,  
With chains, and send Him for a Wolf to Thee?  
If so to Us his Censure and his Shame  
Is due, and ours the Nails and Cross must be;  
O then release that righteous Soul, and bid  
The slanderous Sanbedrim be Crucifi'd.   

140.  
To this bold Shift was Malice driven, to make  
Mere Accusation for Conviction pass.  
But then, replied the Judge, what made you take  
This pains, since you have found the Prisoners Case  
So foully gross? you might, and may do now,  
Go sacrifice him unto your own Law.   

141.  
True, said the Priests; nor had our pious Zeal  
Loitered thus long, did but out Law permit  
Our righteous Indignation to deal  
With such a Malefactor as is fit.  
The Cross is his high due; and none but you  
That decent Doom can upon Him bestow.   

142.  
The generous Roman shaked his head to see  
The Jews so shameless in their bloody Hate:  
And yet to cool their mutinous Spirits, He  
Commands the Prisoner to the Judgement Seat:  
But first required Them fairly to display  
What horrid Crimes they to his Charge could lay.   

143.  
Enforced here Themselves to shelter in  
The Sanctuary of some strong-built Lie;  
If We, said they, by his outrageous Zion  
Were able but to mould and tune our Cry,  
The Noise not only would amaze your Ear,  
But rend all Heaven, and Vengeance downward tear.   

144.  
For know, just Sir, that in profound Despite  
To Heaven, and that unspotted Truth which We  
Received from thence, this hellish Brat of Night  
Blushed not to broach his blasphemous Heresy.  
But through the credulous Country Preaching run  
Tainting the honest Commons with his Bane.   

145.  
Yet well it were if Heaven alone had been  
The Butt of his bold sin: but traitorous He  
Endeavoured to work his dangerous teen  
On Earth, and its Imperial Majesty;  
Great Caesar's Tribute he denied as due,  
And his vile self he for a King did show.   

146.  
Thus roared the Priests. But when the Judge had well  
The business weighed by grave Examination,  
With Spite, and not with Truth he found it swell,  
And therefore made this honest Protestation:  
Had I your Eyes, I know not what might be,  
But with mine own, no fault in Him I see.   

147.  
As when the Flames are by the Wind beat back,  
With boiling Murmur they their Wrath increase,  
And a more violent Combustion make,  
Strengthening themselves against the stoutest Trees:  
So the repulsed Priests more hot did grow,  
And with full mouth these Exclamations blow:   

148.  
'Tis strange wise Pilate should not clearly see  
What all about our Nation is spread;  
For all Samaria, and Judea He  
Hath with this Heresy envenomed;  
Which first he broached in Galilee, and thence  
Extended its pestiferous influence.   

149.  
But this deferred their bloody Hopes; for now  
The mention of Galilee did put  
Pilate upon a further Search to know  
Whither the Prisoner did belong, or not,  
To Antipas his power: which when he found,  
Unto the Tetrarch He dispatched Him bound.   

150.  
Thus through new Streets, and new Revile He  
To surly Herod's Lodging hurried is.  
Herod could not conceal his Joy to see  
Him whom his unbelieving Curiousness  
Had long desired, since his Court did ring  
With Jesu's Acts, which Fame did thither bring.   

151.  
And now he doubts not but the Prisoner will  
In hopes to gain his Favour and good Word,  
Strain to the utmost of his Power and skill,  
And some Miraculous Spectacle afford.  
But Herod knew not that this Man was He  
Who scorned to buy his life with flattery.   

152.  
Thick were the Questions which He spurred to Him,  
But Jesus would no idle Motions hear;  
For with grave Silence still he answered them:  
And though the Priests and Scribes all railed there,  
He said as little to their shameless Lie,  
As to the Tetrarches Curiosity.   

153.  
Is this, said Herod (big with high disdain)  
Great Caesar's Rival, who is only fit  
As King of sheepish stupid Fools to reign?  
Is this that Wonder-working He, who yet  
Has neither Hand, nor Head, nor Power nor B●ain  
Himself accused and scorned to maintain?   

154.  
Is all the wide-spread Glory of his Name,  
Are all his Miracles shrunk in to this,  
That he Himself with most ignoble shame  
Should prove a Miracle of Sottishness?  
Is this the King, to tear whose young heart out,  
Through thousand Infants breasts my Father sought   

155.  
How my fond fancy wronged brave John, when I  
Dreamed this was he, to life returned! But  
Should it be john, his gross Stupidity  
Assureth Me Revived He is not.  
Come Soldiers, use your antic Wits, that so  
We may have sport at least, before he go.   

156.  
Glad were the Guard, and ready equally  
To mock at jesus, and to please their Lord:  
About Him round They danced with hideous Cry,  
And bid him still that Tempest with his Word;  
And when He silent stood, conjured Him to  
Cast that dumb Devil out which bound Him so.   

157.  
One limping comes, and Him entreats to heal  
His withered Foot, with which he kicks Him straight.  
Another cries, O make this Lame Hand well,  
And then he beats Him with its brawny weight.  
A third desires Him to restore a dead  
Dog unto Life, then throws it at his Head.   

158.  
But wearied with their scornful sports, at last,  
Come dress Him Like a Prince, the Tesrarch cried,  
And let the jews return their King to taste  
What Banquet Pilate will for Him provide:  
His entertainment surely must be high  
In Correspondence to his Royalty,   

159.  
Tell Him I thank Him for his Courtesy,  
It made Me merry, as You all have seen:  
I will not rob his Lordship's Pleasures by  
Keeping this Idiot from Him: When I mean  
To play with Fools, I hope my Galilee  
With one such Sheehead more may furnish Me.   

160.  
Thus Jesus in a gorgeous Robe is clad,  
That more conspicuous his shame might be.  
And so through fresh Disdains and Scoffing led  
To be the Game of further Tyranny,  
Pilate admired to see his splendid Hue,  
Knowing what Garb was to Delinquents due.   

161.  
For Prisoners, when their Lives presumed were  
Forfeit to Law and Death, were wont to be  
In funeral Black arrayed, which might prepare  
Them to the thoughts of their Catastrophe,  
And intimate the Colour of that Sin  
Whose horrid Darkness clothed their Souls within.   

162.  
But so did Providence correct their Spite,  
That He whose Breast was purer than the Day,  
Did in his Vesture wear no guilty Night;  
But by his Foes own Hands, in an Array  
Of Glory was attired, and quitted when  
They haled Him to his Condemnation.   

163.  
So oftentimes, when a Conspiracy  
Of Winds their puffing labouring Wrath do blow  
About the World, in hopes to damp the Sky  
With swarthy Clouds and Storms; they only throw  
All Vapours out, and with a full and fair  
Serenity array the purged Air.   

164.  
But Pilate pondering what had happened now,  
And feeling Moral Honesty beat high  
Even in his Pagan Heart; could not allow  
His Conscience to be Slave unto the Cry  
Of the importunate Jews, who roaring stood,  
And set their Mouths wide open for guiltless Blood.   

165.  
My duty I have fully done, said He;  
Him and your Accusations, have I  
Unto the bottom sifted: As for Me  
I hope I never gave you reason why  
You should presume that any Clamours may  
Fright Pilate out from Justice's Highway.   

166.  
Neither your Temple nor your Altars be  
More venerable unto you, than is  
My most unspotted Judgement Seat to Me:  
For all Hell's yell and impatient Cries  
I trust Mine shall as valiantly resist  
As Mino's, or as Rhadamanthu's Breast.   

167.  
What I to Caesar owe, and what to Right  
I long have known, and must not now forget:  
My Heart is Roman, and the dearest Light  
Of Heaven is not so precious to it  
As spotless Honour, which can never be  
Cohabitant with Wrong and Tyranny.   

168.  
Mine own Heartblood I rather would let flow,  
And let your Thirst carouse in it, than I,  
From any guiltless Veins their Streams will draw  
To quench the loudest Importunity.  
Mine is mine own; but what have I to do  
To give Another's Life, when Law, says, No.   

169.  
Law takes no hold of Jesus, nor must I  
Nor did the Tetrarch; and why then will you?  
He that he is a King doth not deny;  
But adds withal, His Kingdoms not below.  
No harm to Cesar by this Man is done,  
Who doth his Kingdom fancy in the Moon,   

170.  
There let his Fancy rule and reign: But yet  
'Tis pity for his Folly He should Diego  
It never yet was heard, that Want of Wit  
Passed for a Capital Offence. Nay I  
Have been informed, that in the Tribute He  
Has witnessed sufficient Loyalty.   

171.  
For by his Doctrine He did it maintain,  
And by his Practice too; though Calumny  
Hath your Belief abused, and cast a Stain  
Upon his Innocence. Come, therefore I  
Will, for your Credits, Him Chastise, and so  
Give Him Dismission without more ado.   

172.  
And this the rather, since by Custom I  
Engaged am to honour this your Feast  
In granting some Offenders Liberty  
Who in your Judgement shall deserve it best.  
And who, can you think, less deserveth Death,  
Then He whose Innocence him acquitted hath?   

173.  
Thus strove the Judge, that He might not condemn  
Both Jesus, and himself. When lo the Priests  
His gracious offer shamelessly contemn,  
And spur the People (in whose fury rests  
Their final Hope,) to beg with all the Strife  
Of stoutest throats, none but Barabba's life.   

174.  
Prodigious Priests! is not Barrabas He  
Whom all the Town knows guilty of the fact  
You fain would fasten upon jesus? ye  
Yourselves beheld what tumults he did act,  
And how his desperate riot he pursued  
Until in Murder he his hands imbrued.   

175.  
And is the Murderer's life so dear, that He  
Must live with you, whilst Innocence does die?  
Does foul Barrabas his cursed Company  
Suit better with your reverend Sanctity?  
Or can you think both God and Man so blind  
As not to see, and hate, your bloody mind?   

176.  
Strange, Psyche, strange it was, with what loud cries  
The mad-brained vulgar heaven and earth did tear:  
Barabba's Name through all their clamour flies,  
And they for none but for Barrabas care:  
He is their Darling, and they cannot live  
If Pilate will not grant them his Reprieve.   

177.  
Thus hellish Hate opened Providences door  
To heavenly Love, and made Barabba's be  
The whole World's type, which from the fatal Power  
Of endless Death, and equal Misery  
Was to be snatched to day, whilst in its place  
A Lamb all white and guiltless sentenced was.   

178.  
Mean while the Judge's Lady sent her Page  
In posting speed to pray her troubled Lord  
Not to be mad because that Rout did rage,  
Nor venture to profane the Roman sword  
With innocent blood; for, certainly, said she,  
Jesus is just, and they seditious be.   

179.  
For my good genius as I lay asleep  
Appeared unto me hand in hand with thine;  
Thine beat his Breast, and bitterly did weep,  
And tolled the reason of his grief to mine:  
He said (and deeply sighed, as he said)  
Pilate with Jesus now will be betrayed.   

180.  
Pilate will be betrayed to take away  
The Life of Jesus, and his own withal,  
For Jesus blood will cry another day,  
And unto Pilat's veins and heart will call:  
His veins and heart must answer that strong cry—  
— I started here; and out the Dream did fly.   

181.  
Thus heaven admonished Claudia strove to drive  
Her husband from his Precipices brow,  
And did withal miraculous witness give  
What wrongs the Jews at Jesu's life did throw:  
For Heaven was pleased that his integrity  
By either sex should now asserted be.   

182.  
No sooner had the trembling Page delivered  
His ominous Message; but the Judge's heart  
With fatal jealousy and horror shivered,  
His joints unbuckled, and his eyes did start,  
His hair stood staring up, his blood flew back  
And left his lips, and all his visage black.   

183.  
But when the Scribes and Priests had learned this news  
Behold, they cry, how He by Magic art  
Hath sent some 〈◊〉 Spirit to abuse  
The honest thoughts of noble Claudia's heart;  
That by this trick the Judge might frighted be,  
Our Truths made slanders, and himself set free,   

184.  
Then all the People with fresh clamours roared,  
Thundering Barrabas in the Judge's ear:  
That violent storm quite blue away the Word  
His Lady sent Him; and through sudden fear  
Of insurrection He returns to treat  
About the Business which himself did hate.   

185.  
Friends, ask your second thoughts, said He, and see  
If they upon Barrabas needs will dote:  
I would not that your too much haste should be  
Your prejudice; 'twas haste made you so hot  
Against your smothered reason: but free leave  
To choose again, to all of you I give.   

186.  
For I would fain my 〈◊〉 should be  
True to its Name; which sure cannot be so,  
If none but foul Barrabas must be He  
Whom you will let me upon you bestow,  
Consider well, and you will find it stand  
More with your 〈◊〉, Jesus to demand,   

187.  
Enraged at this Word, they all renew  
Their former Clamour, and Barrabas roar:  
For none but for Barrabas We do sue;  
Grant now what thou hast granted heretofore:  
Our wont Boon We ask: If you deny  
Barrabas to Us, keep your Courtesy.   

188.  
Moved with their boisterous Madness, Pilate cries,  
If the seditious Murderer alone  
Can seem to you to be a worthy Prize,  
Tell Me what must with Innocence be done;  
Both cannot be Repreeved; therefore speak  
What kind of course with Jesus I shall take.   

189.  
Well-pleased were they that He had given Them leave  
To name the Way of their own Cruelty.  
A 〈◊〉 Exclamation they heave,  
Crying, the Case is plain, Let Jesus die;  
〈◊〉 Him but unto the Cross, and We  
At charge of Executing Him will be.   

190.  
Then, as an Army with impatient Shout  
Rends the wide Field, when most intaged They  
Fly to their Work of Blood: So the whole Rout  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 pilate's Ear; and all they say,  
Up in this most 〈◊〉 Word is tied:  
Away with Him, let Him be Crucified.   

191.  
O more than hellish Impudence, and Spite!  
Is this the People whose high Estimation  
Of Jesus, did the High-priests Plots affright  
And force them to a secret Conjuration!  
The People who some Prophet, at the least,  
Forced by his mighty Miracles, Him confessed!   

192.  
The People, who to pave his welcome Way  
Stripped the Trees Bodies, and their own, and spread  
That princely entertainment to display  
How even his Ass' feet they honoured!  
The People, who did brave Hosanna cry!  
A Word, o how unlike to Crucify!   

193.  
(How well sage Heads have fixed the odious Brand  
Of Fickleness upon the Vulgars' face!  
For safeher may you on the Lybian Sand,  
Or on the Adriatic Billows place  
A Palaces Foundation, than rely  
Upon the People's best Fidelity.)   

194.  
The horror of that Word made Pilate start,  
Who stepping back, and holding up his Hands,  
Cried out, O far, far be it from my Heart  
To think of such Injustice I your Demands  
Should not be Traps; nor is it fit that I  
Should Tyrant prove, your Wills to satisfy.   

195.  
Bears He the Slain of Murder or of Treason  
To mark Him out for Death? Can any Eye  
Barrabas find in Him? Or is it reason  
That He, because He has no Crime, must Die?  
And can you choose no other Man, but Me  
The Pander of your bloody Lust to be?   

196.  
Great Cesar thinks Me wise enough to hear  
And judge of Cases; and why should not you?  
Jesus I have examined; whom as clear  
And pure I find, as is the Virgin Snow;  
As clear of capital Crimes, for these alone  
Come in the compass of this Question.   

197.  
Wherefore no Tongue shall e'er have Cause to say  
To the confusion of my Honour, that  
Pilate bowed down his Conscience to obey  
A lawless Motion, Henceforth urge Me not:  
Some reasonable Castigation I  
Will. lay on Jesus; but He must not die.   

198.  
As when a Knot of eager Hornets are  
Repulsed by a wary Hand; they fly  
About with doubled Rage, their Foe they dare  
With ireful Buzzing, and more furiously  
Give a fresh Onset. So in louder Cries  
The People's Spite at this Repulse did rise.   

199.  
The Cataracts of Nile, or those which fall  
Down headlong from the steepest Alps, make not  
Such an intolerable Noise, as all  
Their yelling Mouths, resolved no more to shut)  
Till they can conquer by impetuousness:  
And Crucify Him, still their Clamour is.   

200.  
The Palace trembled at the hideous Noise;  
Whose fragor thence unto the Temple flew;  
Nor could the Temple hold it, for the Voice  
Itself through all the startled City threw:  
It shaked the Judge, and almost turned him over,  
Yet he his strength and spirits did recover.   

201.  
And wisely pondering that the Highpriest's spite  
The coals of this combustion did blow;  
And that they on the mad-braind vulgars' might  
Had built their Savage hopes: He studies how  
To frustrate their malicious design  
By a severe, yet tender Countremina.   

202.  
For in he takes thy Lord, and yields Him to  
The cruel whip, that by that cruelty  
Way to his Pity he might make, and so  
With blood the bloody people satisfy.  
He hoped if once they saw him all in gore,  
Their thirstiest malice would not wish for more.   

203.  
The surly Beadles fetched their strongest Tew,  
And having stripped their patient prey of all  
His raiment, with rude churlish twitches drew  
Him to the stoutest Pillar of the Hall;  
To which they bound him fast, for fear that He  
Should sink down under their strokes cruelty,   

204.  
With iron whips then to their Work they fall,  
And plow the dainty Garden of his back:  
The furrows neither shallow were nor small,  
But long and wide, and deep, which they did make:  
Yet all were quickly filled by the flood.  
Of their own most inestimable blood.   

205.  
For to the bottom of each tender 〈◊〉  
The cruel engines dived, and toare from thence  
The precious purple springs; which in disdain  
They tossed about, till their mad violence  
In too too precious colours painted thick  
Upon the Pillar, and the floor did stick.   

206.  
The Pillar and the Floor now blushed to see  
How those remorseless blood-heunds knew no shame;  
For still they prosecute their Tyranny,  
Until their weariness prevails with them  
(As lately with the servants of the Priest)  
In mercy to their own selves, to desist.   

207.  
But then the Soldiers take their cruel cue,  
And come to ven him with more witty spite:  
A Crown of thorns, (the sharpest things they knew,  
Yet things of delicacy and delight  
If with their Hearts compared) they wreath, and it  
On Jesu's tender Head with violence set.   

208.  
And thus the Curse which Heaven enjoined to grow  
On sin-condemned Earth, removed is,  
And deep engrafted into Jesu's Brow;  
Whose Temples well contented wefe with this  
Sharp Crown, and envied not their dainty Pride  
Whose tresses were in roseal chaplets tied.   

209.  
Then on his back (for always with disdain  
Their Rage was swelled) a Purple robe they throw:  
Alas, how needless! now in richer grain  
His native Scarlat doth about him flow,  
Whilst all his Body is arrayed round  
In one expanded universal wound.   

210.  
And having put a Reed into his hand,  
(A silly Sceptre, and which well complied  
With his vile Crown,) about him round they stand  
To act their Pageantry, and to deride  
This patient and miserable thing,  
Whom of contempt they had created King.   

211.  
May the great Sovereign of the jews, said they,  
Ou-tlive the Hearts, the Ravens, the Eagles years;  
May his victorious Engines He display  
Throughout the World, affrighted at his wars:  
Thus may He thresh all nations; and here  
They beat him; and went to another jeer.   

212.  
May heavens propitious eye for ever dwell  
On him who best deserves its care: may all  
The clouds which with the fattest blessings swell,  
Upon his Head let their best riches fall  
As freely as these drops rain down on it;  
And at this Word they all upon Him spit.   

213.  
On the brave Roman Birds imperial wing  
May thy illustrious Name and Glory ride;  
And may Tiberius to this nobler King  
Thus yield his mighty Throne: this said, a wide  
And massy Chair full at his head they throw,  
Which graved its footsteps deep upon his brow.   

214.  
Then, after three low bowings, on his knee  
One a Petition brings; and having prayed  
Him to accept his suit, He instantly  
Hangs it upon his face: Another played  
〈◊〉, and told Him what strange things  
He had in charge to Him from 〈◊〉 Kings   

215.  
Most excellent Sir, my Business is, said He,  
Of such immediate consequence, that it  
Can no delay digest; which urgeth Me  
To this unwonted, and uncivil Fit  
Of craving present Audience: and here  
He boxed both his ears to make Him hear.   

216.  
A third came with a golden Goblet in,  
Crying, My Liege, the Queen to you hath sent  
This Morning's Draught, and prays You to begin  
That She may pledge your Highness: Here he bend  
His cursed brows at Jesus, and threw out  
Upon his face the Urine He had brought.   

217.  
A fourth his Reed did from him snatch, and cried,  
Your Sceptre, Sir, to heavy is, I fear;  
Let not your Majecty your Servant chide  
If he offend in too much loyal Care;  
Yourself shall judge how grievous is its Weight;  
Which said, Him with the sturdy Cane he beat.   

218.  
A fifth with earnest supplication sued  
But for the honour to support his Train:  
Then snatching up his Robe behind, with rude  
Unseemly Peevishness, he kicked amain,  
Bruising thy Spouses naked Body, till  
His weary Toe stayed his unwearied Will.   

219.  
A sixth came crying, Treason, Treason, Sir,  
Treason against your sacred Majesty.  
The jews your Subjects, all Conspiring are  
Against your Honour and your Life: O fly  
And save your Royal Self. This made Them all  
Seeing Him bound so fast, a laughing fall.   

220.  
O Psyche, I cannot describe how they  
Did mock, and grin, and gurn, and sneer, and pout;  
How they did wring their Mounthes; what antic play  
They used their gentle Saviour to flout.  
Imagine all the worst thou canst conceive,  
And infinitely worse than that believe.   

221.  
This Scene thus acted; Pilate brings him out  
In this strange habit, to the People's view:  
Telling them He had sifted Him, but nought  
He could discover which did bear the show  
Of capital Demerit: Yet, said He  
Behold how his light faults revenged be.   

222.  
If this ridiculous Garb be not enough  
With Shame to cloth Him, yet consider well  
In what exuberunt Streams his Blood doth flow,  
And guess what favour I have showed Him: Tell,  
Me if you think a new room may be found  
In all his Body, but for one more Wound.   

223.  
Behold the Man, this torn and worried Thing  
Is He, however Comely heretofore;  
Sure he has for his foolish Name of King  
Paid dear enough; and had not I had more  
Regard unto your Credits than mine own,  
Such proofs of Cruelty I had not shown.   

224.  
O Spectacle of most Commanding Sorrows!  
How would all Hearts but Jewish melt to see  
These ghastly Torrents, and these gasping Furrows  
Upon the harmless Back of Purity!  
How would a Tiger's thirsty Wrath relent!  
How would the Souls of hungry Bears repent!   

225.  
Had these unhappy Jews had any Eyes  
But those of rancorous Malice, they might here  
Have seen how their own Griefs and Miseries  
To patient Jesus all transferred were,  
And scored upon his Back: They might have found  
A salve for all their Sores in every Wound.   

226.  
They might have seen his innocent Temples wear  
That Malediction which to them was due:  
The stinging Briars he was pleased to bear,  
And leave the fragrant Flowers to them, which grew  
Both in their mortal Gardens here, and which  
With endless Sweets did Paradise enrich.   

227.  
At least that Lesson of Compassion They,  
As well as Pilate, might have plainly read,  
Which in red capital Letters written lay,  
And to the Eyes of all Spectators spread  
So fair a Challenge, that no generous Breast  
Could their strange Importunity resist.   

228.  
But lo, the barbarous Priests, unsatisfied  
With all that Blood which was already shed,  
Because some more behind remained: Cried  
O ease the Earth of that blasphemous Head,  
Before Heaven vindicate itself, and We  
Involved in the Flood of 〈◊〉 be.   

229.  
It is no Boys Fault his, that you should deem  
A 〈◊〉 is sufficient Punishment:  
O rather square your own by heavens Esteem,  
And join with ours, your righteous Consent;  
A Cross, a Cross: Heav n cannot pleased be  
Until this Monster Crucifi d it see.   

230.  
This most unreasonable Madness made  
The Judge as loud as They: In vain, said He,  
You hope by Roaring to make Me afraid:  
The Man is guiltless 〈◊〉 Eyes; if ye  
Resolved are that Innocence must Die,  
Go Murder Him yourselves, and cease your Cry.   

231.  
Harsh was this Word, and on their Plot did grate  
So hard, that they enforced were to fly  
Unto the Refuge which They most did hate,  
As knowing it was an old-answered Lie:  
That Law They now pretend, to which long since  
The Prisoner justified his Innocence.   

232.  
Nay, They replied, it is not We, but Law;  
Our Law, more dear to Us than are our lives,  
Calls loud for Him to Death. Be pleased to know  
That our great God no grace nor pardon gives  
Unto the least Blaspheemers; and shall He  
Who makes himself the Son of God, go free?   

233.  
If Thou Protector of our Laws wilt be,  
Break not our greatest for this Varlet's sake.  
Should He intrude into the Family  
Of Caesar, and his Sons great Title take,  
Sure Thou wouldst think a Cross his due: and is  
Wrong to heavens Emperor a less Crime than this?   

234.  
Bloodthirsty Hypocrites! For well they knew  
How they their Law in urging it denied;  
For though this Accusation had been true,  
〈◊〉 must not Jesus by the Cross have died:  
The Law an heap of Stones ordained to be  
The Death, and Monument of Blasphemy.   

235.  
〈◊〉 this new Plea did startle Pilate so,  
〈◊〉 again retires, and tries again  
〈◊〉 Examination might do:  
〈◊〉 he many Queries put, and fain  
some Pretence have found, with them to join,  
〈◊〉 all Slander did outshine.   

236.  
But when He tells the Multitude his Mind,  
Only new Oil upon their Flames He threw;  
For in their loudest Fury all combined,  
Upon Him with this bold reply they flew:  
If Jesus you dismiss, We must have leave  
Great Caesar to acquaint with this Repreive.   

237.  
Did not the Traitor's Head contrive to wear  
A Crown of Gold, where now those Thorns are set?  
And Who, We pray, more dangerous Enemies are  
To Caesar's right, than They which thirst for it?  
He says his Realm is not on Earth: And what  
Should Traitors being Taken, plead but that?   

238.  
But were He free again, and had proud He  
New Thousands at his Heels, which might assist  
His Wills Carreir; Might his Design not be  
True to our Fears? And must He be dismissed?  
Dismiss Him If you will; yet know that We  
Must hold you then for Caesar's Enemy.   

239.  
Pilate had with their Malice grappled long;  
But now his Place and Credit lay at stake,  
He who before was so upright and strong,  
Degenerously turned Unjust and Weak:  
Firm stood his Chair upon the Pavement, but  
His Heart and Conscience soon fell flat on it.   

240.  
For as He'ginns to name their King again,  
Away with him, they Cry, We have no King  
But Caesar, Caesar over Us shall reign,  
And He alone: As for this Cursed Thing,  
'Tis more than time that to his Cross He go;  
And every one that is his Favourer too.   

241.  
Alas, this Blast did on his faint Breast did blow  
So thick a Storm of jealousy and Dread,  
That now he fancied all the Town did draw  
Their mutinous Swords against his single Head;  
And that the Priests had with their specious Lie  
Dispatched unto Rome an Embassy.   

242.  
Thus tossed and baited, by the Tempest, He  
His Faith and Truth, the dearest Wares he had,  
Throws over board, and to their Cruelty  
Joyns his Consent; which yet appear d so mad  
And full of foul and odious horror, that  
He calls for Water to wash off its Blott.   

243.  
Why dost thou ravish, Foolish Hypocrite,  
The virgin Nymph? What Water wilt thou get  
To wash this clean, which cannot make Thee white,  
But only is by this thy Touching it  
For ever made impure: Should all the Sea  
Flow on thy Hands, they still would Bloody be.   

244.  
The Leopard's Spots, which fix their Feet so sure  
Upon his skin, shall sooner melt away;  
The AEthiop's Face shall sooner learn a Cure  
And turn its swarthy Night to beauteous day;  
The Ravens with Swans in White shall sooner vie,  
Than thou be purged from thy ingrained die.   

245.  
Yet Pilate flattered by his own Device,  
Will needs be dabbling in the Water; and  
Behold, ye Priests and People all, he cries,  
Of Iesu's Blood I wash my guiltless Hand:  
Although my Tongue the sentence pass, yet ye  
Extorted it, and yours the Act shall be.   

246.  
Content, said They; since you will have no share,  
Ours let the Actions Glory wholly be:  
Both Heaven and Earth will thank us for our Care,  
And Caesar praise our zealous Loyalty.  
So will yourself, when you have weighed well  
What kind of Monster you have sent to Hell.   

247.  
As for his Blood, which frights your timorous Hand,  
It is to us the Brightest Paint of Gloxie,  
And will to all Successions commend  
Our pious Loyal Resolutions Story;  
For our ambitious Wish it is, that It  
May On Heads, and on our Children sit.   

248.  
Unhappy Wish! had this been rightly framed,  
No Prayer had flamed with purer Piety,  
Nor pulled more Blessings down, then would have streamed  
In this rich Blood upon Them all But see  
The fatal Power of Malice, which can thus  
Make Zeals sweet Dialect turn venomous.   

249.  
For'twas not long e'er Titus came to pour  
This Blood upon Them, and their Wish fulfil:  
Them and their Seed its Streams did then devour,  
With such full Vengeance did the Torrent swell;  
Their Town and Temple too this Deluge found  
Which in their Wishes Surplusage were drowned.   

250.  
For never yet did War so riot in  
The Blood of any helpless Wights, as here;  
Nor fatal Misery hunt out any Sin  
With so seveer a Quest as that: So 〈◊〉  
They found their Wish and bloody Exclamation,  
Which proved the funeral Knell to all their Nation.   

251.  
And now the Judge within whose Breast the fear  
Of Men, vile Men, more than of God did reign,  
Those Bonds of generous Right himself did tear  
From which he wooed the People to refrain;  
And gives his own unhappy tongue the Lie,  
judging the Lord of Innocence to die.   

252.  
O monstrous sentence! were the fell Decrees  
Which ever yet from Tyrant's Mouths did break,  
With the Descriptions of their Cruelties,  
All writ in one black Roll; they would not make  
So hideous a show as this alone,  
Of Barbarousness the dire Perfection.   

253.  
All Injuries in this triumphant are,  
Being skrued to the highest pitch of Spite;  
Injustice but a Suckling was, till here  
She on the sudden grew to her full height:  
Herod had nursed her well, but Pilate now  
With the jews help, taught her complete to grow.   

254.  
For could Hell mould so horrible a Doom  
As might send every Infant who did see  
Life's morning Light, straight from his Mother's Womb  
To his Death's Even; that Sentence yet would be  
Less barbarous than this, which doth at once  
Condemn more than the whole World's Innocence.   

255.  
Alas, unfortunate Pilate, how hast Thou  
Condemned thyself whilst Thou didst sentence Him!  
The time draws nigh, when Caius will not know  
Thee for a Friend of Caesar's; Thy Esteem  
And Office too unto their Evening draw,  
And four Years more will make Thee feel the Law.   

256.  
The Law of banishment; when France shall see  
Thee to Vienna tied, that fatal place,  
Where Hell shall to thy Soul displayed be,  
And thy black Conscience war against thy face,  
Mustering the Gild of this unhappy Day  
Before thine Eyes in terrible Array.   

257.  
There thy wife's message shall again resound  
And sting thine heart; thine own Professions there  
Of Jesu's innocence shall all rebound  
Upon thy breast, and thy foul bosom tear;  
There shall that water bubble up, and boil  
Upon thine Hands, which did its streams defile.   

258.  
There shall thy whips their lashes turn on thee,  
There shall the thorns grow thick upon thy Head,  
There shall the Buffet and Mockings be  
Unto 〈◊〉 self in fail tale numbered;  
There 〈◊〉 prodigious sentence back shall fly,  
And point out Pilate as one fit to die.   

259.  
Then shall the cruel Cross, the Nails, the Spear,  
Walk through thy thoughts and murder thee alive;  
Till Crucifi'd by thine own fatal fear  
Thine hand due vengeance to thyself shall give,  
And from thy Hell above by cursed death  
Send thy despairing soul to Hell beneath.   

260.  
So shall thine hand thou thoughtst thou washst so white  
〈◊〉 imbrued in thine own horrid gore,  
〈◊〉 to all following Judges write  
Of what sure vengeance righteous Heaven doth pour  
On them who warp Laws rule to People's lust,  
And make the throne of Justice be unjust.   

261.  
But when the Lamb of Heaven was sentenced thus  
Unto the Shambles: Strait upon their prey  
The rampant Soldiers fly: His gorgeous  
Attire they from him snatch, and him array  
In his own simple fleece; yet suffer still  
The torturing thorns upon his head to dwell.   

262.  
This rubbed, and wounded all those Wounds again  
In which the clotted blood began to rest;  
This opened the weary Mouth of every vein,  
As if it would have had them now confessed  
The utmost drop they knew: yet though this loss  
Went deep, they kept enough to paint the Cross.   

263.  
〈◊〉 delay then unto Calvarie  
〈◊〉 hurry Him; even though their Senate's Law  
〈◊〉 that no Execution be  
〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 by ten day's Thoughts the Judge may know  
〈◊〉 he has not in some passi nate haste  
Without sufficient grounds his Sentence Past.   

264.  
The Priests had money, that commanding Spurr  
Which fires all Soldiers with impatient Speed;  
And Pilate now can cast in no Demur;  
The Jews assure him that he has no need:  
But need, or not; his thoughts in vain do beat;  
The Soldiers now were bought to do the Feat.   

265.  
But being Martial generous Spirits, they  
Must not debase their armed Backs, to bear  
The servile ignominious Cross: nor may  
The Jews, who now all purified were  
To celebrate their Paschall Supper, be  
Stained by the Touch of that accursed Tree.   

266.  
On JESU'S Wounds his Death the Soldiers lay,  
And He must ern his Crosses Service, by  
Bearing its tedious Weight, before he may  
Be born by it. Thus with a barbarous Cry  
Of Tongues and Trumpets which the Welkin rend,  
Through the cheifstreets this sad Procession went.   

267.  
But He whose Springs so drained were before  
Both of their Blood and Spirits, now grew faint  
In vain they kicked him, and in vain they tore  
Him forward by his Hair; for no Constraint  
Can make weak Nature her own Power exceed,  
Nor find out Firmness in a broken Reed.   

268.  
What Heart but seared by the fire of Hell,  
Could now Compassions courteous Tears forbear  
But yet the Soldiers bosoms by the fell  
Contagion of the jewish Malice are  
So deeply tainted, that what might invite  
Tigers to Pity, does but whet their Spite.   

269.  
For merely in prevention of the Loss  
Of that choice Sport they hoped for when He  
Was once set fair and sure upon his Cross,  
As the full Mark at which all Scoffs might be  
Directly aimed; Him from this Load they spare,  
And force Cyrenian Simon it to bear.   

270.  
Nay, Live you shall, say they till you may Die  
As you deserve: mean while this Ernest take  
Of that full Sum which We will by and by  
On Golgotha without abatement make:  
With this they beat Him, and so much the more  
As with his Blood, he no Complaints would pour,   

271.  
Indeed the softer Sex, who upon Him  
And on his Woes did wait with tenderer Eyes,  
In his own Blood could not behold Him swim,  
But with their Sympathetick Tears and Cries  
Confessed that they had Bowels still, although  
Remorseless Stone men's hearts did overgrow.   

272.  
But Jesus who did all this grievous while  
Encourage by his patient Silence, those  
Most insolent Jeers and Blasphemies the vile  
And spiteful Jews could frame: doth now oppose  
These women's loving Tears, and upon them  
With nobler Pity turn their pitying Stream.   

273.  
For 'twas his brave Ambition to engross  
All Griefs and Sorrows to Himself to day;  
Esteeming every Groan of theirs his Loss,  
And all his Woes discredited, that they  
Should seem to need Assistants, when stout He  
To his own Shoulders wooed all Misery.   

274.  
Weep not ye Daughters of Jerusalem,  
Weep not for Me who have set open my Breast  
To every Grief which into it can stream,  
And thither mean to welcome every Guest:  
Weep not for Me said He, whose Sorrows are  
Not to be quenched by a mortal Tear,   

275.  
If you will broach your Bottles, let them run  
For your own selves, and your unhappy Seed;  
For lo those fatal Days are posting on  
Which all your Brine and more than all will need,  
The Days when Blessing shall no longer spread  
Its joyous Compliment on Mothers Head.   

276.  
For then the Barren Womb shall praised be  
As fertile in the choicest Happiness;  
Then every Tongue those Paps aridity  
Which never brought up Babe to Woe, shall bless.  
Then shall the dearest pledges of your Love  
Your Sons and Daughters, living Torments prove.   

277.  
Then in impatient longing for a Grave  
Despairing Men shall to the Mountains call,  
And every neighbour Hills Compassion crave  
Beseeching them upon their Heads to fall,  
And hide them, though in Death, from seeing how  
Calamity about the World doth flow   

278.  
For if in me a young and verdant Tres  
The flames of Vengeance thus prevailing are.  
What shall the Refuge, or Condition be  
Of Stump and Trunks, all withered and sear,  
Which are already dried, and fit alone  
For fuel for their own Combustion?   

279.  
In a fresh Cursing and Blaspheming fit  
This set the mad-braind Rout; who asked Him why  
When they of late so humbly begged it  
He would not condescend to Prophesy?  
And why, He who could others Woes so well  
Discern, could nothing of his own foretell?   

280.  
And see, good Prophet, yonder Hill, said they;  
Take your own Counsel now, before it prove  
Too late: Come let Us hear what you can say  
Both it and its Compassion to move.  
Set out your Throat; if hard and loud you plead  
Perhaps 'twill bow its own to hide your Head.   

281.  
Then having stared a while upon Him, all  
Whose Fists, or Toes, or spital him could reach,  
With thick and peevish indignation fall  
Upon his bruised bloody Body: Which  
Triumphant scorns, He meekly vanquished by  
His Silence, and marched up to Calvarie.   

282.  
Even to this calvary We stand on here,  
This Mount which from a Scull hath gained its Name;  
For in this solemn Place the Sepulchre  
Of reverend Adam stood; which careful Fame  
Told to Posterity, and so the Hill  
Wears in its Title that old Story still.   

283.  
With such Decorum did thy prudent Lord  
Order his meritorious Passion, that  
The second Adam might his help afford  
Unto the First, where He lay chain d and shut  
Up in Death's Prison, the remorseless Grave,  
Which to Corruption did Him enslave.   

284.  
jesus on that dry Dust resolved to shed  
His most enlivening purifying Blood;  
That He might wash and cure the tainted Head  
Of Mortals Misery, by the sovereign Flood  
Of his own Life; that Life which only can  
Restore true vital vigour unto Man.   

285.  
Here 〈◊〉, here the Cross its foot did set  
When it sustained the World's Redeemer; here  
Is that renowned Soil which once was wet  
With richer Drops than ever shoured were  
From kindest Heaven; for by that fertile Dew  
Salvations Harvest to perfection grew.   

286.  
But yet this Hill wears not that only Name  
Of calvary; 'twas called Moriah too  
Of old, when zealous Abraham hither came  
His most renowned Sacrifice to do;  
And by unparallelled Obedience prove  
The valorous Bravery of faithful Love.   

287.  
Brave Abraham hither came; his Altar here  
He built, and prepossessed the Crosses place:  
So Isaac did thy Lords a while; But there  
An hampered Ram straight substituted was:  
Thus Isaac scaped; but now there was no Ram  
Which might supply the place of heaven's dear Lamb.   

288.  
Jesus himself must sacrificed be,  
Not by, but to his Father: Psyche, now  
That fatal Hour was come when Tyranny  
Held the free Reins, and did its freedom know;  
When purest Innocence was abandoned quite  
Unto the Luxury of proudest Spite.   

289.  
For lo the Soldiers thy torn Saviour stretch  
And fit Him unto his tormenting Tree:  
His blessed Hands unto the Top they reach,  
(Those Hands whose workmanship all creatures be,)  
His Feet unto the bottom; (those pure Feet  
Which no Blood, but their own, did ever wet.)   

290.  
These Hands and Feet with cruel Nails they make  
Sure to the Cross, and fasten Him unto  
His Pains and Death. What heartstrings would not crack  
To see these tender Veins broke open so!  
What Tears could keep at home, and not gush out  
With those dear Streams which now flowed all about!   

291.  
Sure none who dare the Name of Christian wear,  
Can with such stony Hearts this story read,  
As not to feel these Nails their Bosom's tear,  
And 〈◊〉 their tender Contemplations bleed:  
For how can living genuine Members be  
Not wounded with their Heads calamity?   

292.  
But these inhuman Torturers shouting loud  
In desperate applause of their own Sin,  
Rear up the Crucifix; and then grow proud  
To see this Trophy of their Rage. So when  
Harpies on heaps have heaped their butchered Prey,  
They smile, and clap their Wings with cursed Joy,   

293.  
Then on each hand a Thief they 〈◊〉:  
For when they on his Person no more shame  
Could heap, they labour by this Company,  
To make the World suppose Him one of Them;  
Alas He knew no other Theft, but this,  
To steal his Torturers to heavenly Bliss.   

294.  
For whilst between these Briars like the Rose,  
Or like fair Virtue 'twixt her foul Extreems  
He fastened is; He plots against his Foes,  
And projects how to pay Them Diadems  
For these his Tortures; unto Heaven he flies  
On Love's stout wings, and to his Father cries   

295.  
Father! By all the Sweets of that dear Name  
Regard the Prayer of thy Dying Son:  
By this my Cross and all its noble Shame,  
By these four Wounds which with full Current run,  
By all these Thorns which grow upon my Head,  
And those which in my Heart are fastened,   

296.  
Remember not the Sin of these poor Men  
Who through blind Zeal perceive not what they do;  
Though foolish, yet they are my brethren;  
O spare Them then! Let not their Error who  
Occasion all the World's most Sovereign Bliss,  
Make their own Souls their proper Portion miss.   

297.  
Thus for the ravening Wolves the Lamb doth pray;  
The Partridge for the Hawks. O mighty Love  
Which all the Injuries of this cruel Day  
Cannot supprefle! The more the Torturers strove  
To wreak upon Him their elaborate Spite  
The more his Mercy tries on Them it's Might.   

298.  
Thus when Arabian Odours 〈◊〉 be,  
Their sweet revenge they on their 〈◊〉 take  
By pouring out to them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Of pure Perfumes, whole 〈◊〉 doth 〈◊〉 speak  
Of Grief or Anger, but is 〈◊〉  
In the kind language of 〈◊〉 Sent,   

299.  
Thus when the tender Vine is nailed fast  
Unto the Prop, and by the Pruning Knife  
Robbed of her Branches; She takes no distaste  
At all those deep entrenchments on her life,  
But with a bounteous Vintage strives to cheer  
The Heart of Him who thus had wounded Her.   

300.  
But what care savage They who scorn to be  
Softened by Kindness? Wax indeed may run  
At the warm Touch of Highnoon's Charity;  
But for did Mud and Clay; although the Sun  
Doth with his kindest Rays about them flow,  
Instead of Melting, only harder grow.   

301.  
They think that Jesus has more need to pray  
For his own Self than them; and with disdain  
〈◊〉 at his unask'd-for Kindness, They  
〈◊〉 themselves how to divide their Gam;  
This was his Clothes, the Lambs poor plundered Fleece,  
The simple prize of their high Villainies.   

302.  
His other Garments they divide and share;  
But finding that his seamlesse Vesture was  
All of one Texture, they contented are  
To offer the decision of the Case  
To Fortune's Sentence, and conclude by Lot  
To give that whole, they thought too good to Cut.   

303.  
Too good they thought this Common Web to be  
Mangled and torn; yet with the selfsame heart,  
Abhorred not his precious Flesh to see  
All gashed and rend by Hatreds utmost Art.  
The Butcher thus thinks fit the Skin to keep  
Entire, although He quarter out the Sheep.   

304.  
Mean while, arrayed in his naked Gore  
Sweet Jesus hangs betwixt the Heaven and Earth  
Like one of Both rejected; and does pour  
The World's red Price at four wide Floodgates forth  
An Object of more Pity never yet  
Was seen, nor one which reaped less of it.   

305.  
All Passengers without Regard went on  
And turned their unkind backs upon his Woes.  
Yet well it were if this Neglect alone  
Made War against his Patience: but from those  
Who to this pitch of Sorrows raised him, He  
Feets new assaults of positive Misery.   

306.  
For not contented with their Nails and Thorns  
To dig his precious Body, now they strive  
To pierce his Soul with ignominious Scorns,  
To wound his Meekness, and his Sufferings grieve;  
As if his Pains and Cross would not suffice,  
Unless he mocked, and reviled dies.   

307.  
They point their fingers, and their heads they shake,  
And then their crueler Tongues, and thus they cry:  
Remember what your Pride once pleased to speak:  
You in three Days yon Fabric could destroy,  
And rear it up again; yet mighty Sir,  
The Temple stands, and You are hanged here.   

308.  
For shame make good your boasted Power, and now  
Command those Nails to leave your Hands and Feet,  
Command your Cross before your face to bow,  
Command your lost Blood to return and meet  
Your gaping Wounds: Is't not high time to save  
Yourself, if you resolve to scape your Grave?   

309.  
O no; the Elders, Scribes, and Priests reply,  
Though many Seeming Wonders He has done.  
Though he has cured many a Malady,  
Though he has conjured up Salvation  
For others; yet We know for certain He  
Cannot unto himself a Saviour be.   

310.  
No lying Prophet ever yet was known  
Who once into the hands of Justice brought  
Could by his power of Witchcraft reach his own  
Deliverance, and work his Carcase out  
Of Chains or Tortures; for if this might be,  
How could we know heavens Truth from Forgery?   

311.  
Now it appears by Whose Assistance He  
Mixed with his bare Word that miraculous Strength  
Which charm d the People's fond Credulity.  
But Belzebub is wise enough at length  
To leave his Instrument to justice, when  
His utmost Mischief He has done to Men.   

312.  
Now it appears what small cause Pilate had  
To shake his Head at our importunate Cry,  
Had not our Zeal that 〈◊〉 Onset made  
On his abused Lordship's Lenity,  
This rank Impostor, then repreeved, might  
Have still pass d for a Wonder-working Wight.   

313.  
Yet if the potent King of Israel now  
Will but vouchsafe to Step down from this Tree  
And to his Subjects doubtful Hearts allow  
This Proof of his divine Supremacy;  
For our parts We are ready here, and will  
Believe his Power and his Commands fulfil.   

314.  
What can he more expect of Us, who here  
Attend upon him in his deepest shame  
Waiting till He will please Clouds to clear  
Which damp the lustre of his glorious Name?  
So fain would We unto our King to day,  
Would He assert Himself, our homage pay.   

315.  
But silly King, he cannot stir, you see,  
No, though his Kingdom lieth at the Stake:  
He talked as if the Clouds his Coach should be,  
And that he meant upon the Airs high back,  
To show himself in State to Us; but now  
His Cross is all the Chariot he can show.   

316.  
He often bragged that God was his great Sire,  
How is it then his Father owns Him not?  
Sure were He worth the owning, all the Choir  
Of Heaven would hither Flock, to hide this Blot  
Of his broad Shame with their pure Wings, & bear  
Him hence in triumph to his native Sphere.   

317.  
Shame on your Blasphemies you shameless Rout  
Of Priests and People! Jesus aimeth not  
To save Himself, but You who sting and flout  
His noble Patience: He has not forgot  
That in his Sovereign Hands and Fingers still  
The whole Train of Omnipotence doth dwell.   

318.  
For those Almighty Hands he stretcheth out,  
And busy is in working your Salvation.  
He could Come down; but stays till he has wrought  
That mighty Act of his victorious Passion.  
He could come down, but stays till he may draw  
Up after Him this grovelling World below.   

319.  
He could come down, did you not fix Him there  
Not with your Nails, but with your stronger Sins:  
He could come down, were his own Life as dear  
To him, as yours: But on his Wrongs he wins,  
And by all resolute Love strives to prevail  
Against all Spite and Rage which him 〈◊〉   

320.  
O Psyche, cruel were those Scoffs; but yet  
More stinging Scorn then this is still behind:  
For now the very Thiefs upon him spit  
Their odious Taunts, and seem in Him to find  
What their vile Souls amidst the Miseries  
Of their own cursed Crosses, dare despise,   

321.  
Ink scorns the Snow, foul Night accuseth Day,  
The dirty Puddle mocks the virgin Spring,  
Dark Shades contemn the Sun's meridian Ray,  
Black Night-ravens call the Swan a swarthy Thing,  
Ignoble Bats revile the Eagles Eyes,  
And Hell itself insults o'er Paradise.   

322.  
Art thou that mighty Christ, said they, and yet  
Hangest here the Game of all Contempt and Spite?  
Can heavens great Son his Self so far forget,  
As rather to endure to Die, than fight?  
Discredit not, by yielding cowardly,  
The Lord of Hosts, if he thy Father be,   

323.  
Come justify that royal Title there,  
Which now but laughs at thine ignoble Head;  
Approve thyself King of the Jews, and fear  
Not to redeem thy Fame and Life: But spread  
Thy Favour too on Us, that under Thee  
The Sovereign, We may glorious Nobles be.   

324.  
For since in these thy deep Misfortunes We  
Of all thy World thy sole Companions are;  
We well in your restored Prosperity  
May promise our Desert the deepest share.  
So spoke the Thiefs; and then they roared for Pain;  
But quickly fell to scoff and curse again.   

325.  
And shall not heavens Artillery now attend  
Its wronged King, and vindicate his Cause?  
Can Earth hear this, and not in sunder rend  
Snatching these Elves into her deepest Jaws?  
No: Jesus now no Vengeance doth approve  
But that of patient and Silent Love,   

326.  
Sweet Vengeance! which so strongly wrought upon  
One of this loud blaspheming Pair, that he  
Converts his Curses to Devotion.  
And prompts his Fellow unto Piety,  
Rebuking sharply his malicious Tongue,  
Which still pursued his Lord with shameless Wrong.   

327.  
Then like a wise and sober Thief indeed;  
He seeks to steal into his Saviour's grace:  
O King of Heaven he cries, I plainly read  
Thy Majesty though in thy clounded Face.  
Sure Thou hast taught mine Eyes this skill; o then  
Complete this Mercy which Thou hast begun.   

328.  
When in thy Kingdom Thou shalt mounted be  
Upon thy Throne of Glory, o forger  
Those Wrongs which ignorant I did pour on Thee,  
On Thee, the God of Innocence: but yet  
Forget not Me, who must for ever die  
Unless repreived by thy Clemency.   

329.  
Jesus, whose Goodness never did disdain  
〈◊〉 hear and answer a meek Sinners Cry,  
Though his provoked Lips he did refrain  
Amidst those thick Storms of loud Blasphemy,  
With gracious Sweetness doth Assurance give  
Unto the Dying Thief, that he shall live.   

330.  
Fear not, said He, thy Death is drawing nigh,  
But it shall prove the Gate of Life to Thee;  
My Word, the Pillar of all Certainty  
I freely pass: Thou from that cursed Tree  
Shalt step this Day to Paradise, and there  
Under the Bowers of Bliss with Me appear.   

331.  
The Priests and People laughed and scoffed to hear  
Him talk of giving Bliss, who hung in Pain;  
Blind Fools, who could not now discern how clear  
His Power shined, which thus its Prize could gain  
Out of Hell's Mouth, & with Love's sweet constraint  
Make of a Cursing Thief, a Praying Saint.   

332.  
By this dear Token He to every one  
Of them aforehand did their Pardon seal,  
If they would do what the meek Thief had done,  
And to his Grace with penitent hearts appeal:  
But most unhappy They this deep Design  
Of Love, did obstinately countremine.   

333.  
Profoundly did this Scorn of Mercy tear  
Thy Spouses most compassionate Breast: But He  
Observing now his dearest Followers there,  
The Mother of Him and Virginity,  
With faithful John, a keen and double Dart  
Of fresh Grief shot quite through his bleeding Heart.   

334.  
For in his Mother's tender Soul he saw  
That cruel Sword stuck deep which Simeon  
Foretold so long ago: The Virgin now,  
Who at the first brought forth her blessed Son  
Without all Pangs, doth in hard Labour strain,  
And pays her Debt of puerperiall Pain.   

335.  
O how the Bowels of her yearning Heart  
Are tent and torn! her hands, her feet, her head,  
All bear their proper Torments, and no Part  
Can say, To me these Sorrows do not spread;  
For from her Sons dear Body every Wound  
Doth on her sympathetik Self rebound.   

336.  
Her Temples are with thick-set Thorns hedged in,  
Nailed unto Tortures are Her dainty Feet,  
Tattered and mangled is Her tender Skin,  
Her Flesh ploughed up, Her veins wide open set,  
And all her modest Body to the view  
Exposed is of every shameless Jew.   

337.  
On Her those Jeers, and Taunts, and Blasphemies  
Their venom pour, and swell with Grief her Breast;  
That Breast which noble Love so straight ties  
And comments to her Sons, that not the least  
Division can interpose, nor make  
This Double One, themselves for single take.   

338.  
If She had in her other Self, if she  
In Mary had been Crucifi'd, the Cross  
Had tolerable been; but thus to be  
Destroyed in Jesus, is so vast a Loss  
That Mari's swallowed up in it, and this  
Calamity becomes both Hers, and His.   

339.  
Her Hope, her Joy, her Life, her Love, her Bliss,  
Her Heaven, her Son, her God, all these She now  
Beholds betrayed to her Enemies;  
And what has Mary more? How shall she row  
Through this vast Sea, which in each gaping Wave  
Presents her o how much more than a Grave?   

340.  
As oft as to the Cross she opes her Eyes,  
Death rusheth in; Yet she as oft doth Die  
As unto their Compassion she denies  
That rueful Spectacle. If Psyche, I  
Or Thou, or any Seraph had been so  
Besieged with Sovereign Griess, What could We do?   

341.  
What could we do but sink? Yet noble she  
Struggling amidst a thousand Deaths, at last  
Snatched from her mighty Losses, Victory;  
Whilst at the feet of God's great Will she cast  
Her own; as gallant Abraham, when He  
Preferred before his Isaac, Piety.   

342.  
Yet what was Isaac unto Jesus! o  
With how much dearer Prize did Mary part!  
Though Isaac precious was, He could no so  
Profoundly be engraved in Abraham's Heart,  
As Jesus in his Mothers; yet is She  
Content of her Heart's Heart deprived to be.   

343.  
O heavenly Mother, never Agony  
Was more heroic than was this of thine;  
Excepting that of thy great Son, when He  
His humble Patience did prove Divine.  
Decorum 'twas that Thou shouldst tread alone  
The hardest Steps of Glory next thy Son.   

344.  
But Psyche though this Amazon of Love  
So stoutly fought; yet John who stood by her  
Was of a weaker Metal far, and strove  
With less Success the Passion to bear:  
He strove a while; but at the last, poor Saint,  
As Grief became outrageous, he grew faint.   

345.  
For when his loving Eyes beheld that Breast  
Upon whose Sweets his Head was wont to lie,  
And those dear Arms, which used to hug him fast  
And chain him unto Bliss; The Tyranny  
Which now possessed them, soon overthrew  
His tender Heart, and all his Comforts slew.   

346.  
Jesus observed them Both, and saw how she  
Although her Pain and Sorrow greater were,  
Yet made them bow unto her Will; how He  
Suffered his lesser Grief to domineer  
Over his wounded Soul; and seeing this,  
Felt what he saw in Both, for Both were His.   

347.  
He felt their Tortures; but with deeper sense  
Than they themselves, and more Excess of Pain;  
His Soul being tempered to all Excellence  
Of dainty Softness, which did entertain  
Even in its Bowels, every Torments Darts  
He spied in any of his Spouses Hearts.   

348.  
Witness his bounteous Care, before he dies ',  
To cheer them by a precious Legacy:  
His noble Mother, far above all price,  
Even in that dearest of Relations, he  
Bequeathes to John; and John to her again,  
That in his stead, her Son he might remain.   

349.  
Sweet Legacy! where though the Mother be  
The richer Gift, considered alone,  
Yet is the Balance equaly  
Now John's enhanced by the Name of Son:  
For that high Name entitles him to be  
No less than Jesu's privileged Deputy.   

350.  
A long-long Hour had now run out, since by  
His weeping Wounds the King of Mercy hung:  
Yet all this while from the hard People's Eye  
Not one drop of Compassion he had wrung.  
This made the Sun, though on his highnoon Throne.  
Fear his own Eyes had not their duty done.   

351.  
But looking wistly, He perceived how  
Men had exiled all Humanity;  
This Sight upon his face a Blush did throw  
In shame and horror at the Prodigy;  
He blushed and shut his royal Eyes, and hurled  
More than Cimmeria all about the World.   

352.  
In mourning Weeds the heavenly Spheres at last  
Upon their dying Master will attend,  
And with no gaudy Tire of Light be dressed  
Now all the Powers of Hell and Darkness bend  
Their uncontrolled spite, in Him, to damp.  
All other Lights divine original Lamp.   

353.  
The Air was frighted at this monstrous Change  
When Midnight seized upon highnoon Day,  
Marching with Apparitions, and strange  
Phantomes of dusky fire, in fierce array;  
Whilst every hollow Wind which passed by  
Bemoaned with sad Groans this Calamity.   

354.  
The lesser Sparks of Heaven all started as  
Their sudden privilege, who now might view  
The open face of Noon; not knowing what  
Had thrown upon the Sun his Sable Hue;  
With doubting twinkling Eyes on him they gaze;  
Seeing him down, yet in his highest Place.   

355.  
Each gentle fair-conditioned Bird and Beast  
Hied them unto their Nests and Dens for fear:  
Only some ominous Ravens and Scritchowles pressed,  
With Beasts of Prey & Night, through the black Air:  
And fit Companions for these Jews they were  
Who in all horridness their Brethren are.   

356.  
Frights and Dismays walked not so thick upon  
The face of Egypt, when 'twas buried  
In a strange three-days Night, as now they run  
Both there and here, for every where they spread,  
Having as large a Circle as the Sun,  
Who now from all the World at once was gone.   

357.  
The grave Astronomers, who with Phoebus were  
Of old 〈◊〉, and knew all his gists  
His way, his Jnns, his Hosts, and wheresoe'er  
His restless Coach in his bright path 〈◊〉,  
Wondered what sudden Monster did arise  
And rob him of his Locks and of his Eyes.   

358.  
'Tis plain the Moon was innocent, for She  
Knew not the buis'nes, being far away;  
No less than Half the heavens Immensity  
Betwixt Hers, and Her Brother's Station lay,  
For whilst He flourished in the perfect height  
Of Day, She groveled in the Depth of Night.   

359.  
But grant by some portentous Wheel She from  
Her proper Place was whirled thus far away  
Yet how could her poor Bulk usurp the Room  
Of His vast flames, and dam up all the Day?  
Sure Phoebus scorns that Her small Blot should rob  
The total Beauty of his mighty Globe.   

360.  
O No 〈◊〉 was a larger Blot than so,  
A Blot in which all Blackness did combine,  
A Blot which no Comparison doth know,  
A Blot made up of every foulest Sinn,  
A Blot as hideous, as profound, and wide  
As Impudence could make; 'twas Deicide;   

361.  
No wonder now Heaven would no longer be  
Beheld those who did its King destroy;  
That Phoebus his less reverend Majesty  
Denied to them whose only work and joy  
Was to eclipse and quench that Sovereign Sun  
Whose open Eyes His durst not gaze upon.   

362.  
And yet this Darkness a faint Copy was  
Of that more monstrous Pitch which stuck upon  
The Eyes and Hearts of the blind Jews: Alas  
This Prodigies stern Admonition  
Could not awake their Thoughts, to search, and see  
How Heaven was frighted at their Cruelty,   

363.  
The itching Wit of their immortal Spite  
Draws every Thing into new B lasphemie:  
Behold, say They, the most audacious Might  
Of His insufferable Witchery:  
Whilst other Wizards only on the Moon  
Or Stars, throw Darkness; He chokes up the Sun.   

364.  
But now the Ninth Hour of the Day drew on,  
And brought the last Act of this Tragedy  
Along with it; that Hour in which alone  
More Horrors than 〈◊〉 Agese'r did see  
In one Consp 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 met,  
And in Array themselves all armed set.   

365.  
His other 〈◊〉 but faint Praeludiums were,  
Which only gathering Clouns did overspred;  
But now the Tempest in its full Carrieer  
Broke down and soused directly on his head;  
JESUS was now encompassed with the Stream  
And even into his Soul the Waters came.   

366.  
The Waters of that dismal Cup which He  
Both feared and loved; eschewed and chose to Drink:  
The fatal dregs of Wrath and Misery,  
Of every black and dreadful Thing the Sink:  
A Dead Sea unto which Gomorrha's Lake  
Compared, would wholesome Milk and Honey speak:   

367.  
heavens Justice, who had with a constant Eye  
Observed all Tribes of Men, and noted down  
Each little Slip, each broad Impiety,  
With all the Trappings Time and Place had thrown  
About them; hither made a journey, and  
Full in thy Spouse's face took up her Stand.   

368.  
Less Terror from the Praetors countenance breaks  
When she her Talons claps upon her Prey;  
Less from the ireful Highpriest when he takes  
His Cursing Aime at Jesus; than to day  
Flashed from this cruel Maid, in whose fell look  
Her dismal throne accomplished Vengeance took.   

369.  
Immortal Dread stared wide in either Eye;  
Her forehead was ploughed up with furrows deep,  
Sown with the Seeds of all Severity;  
(Which now for Jesus were grown fit to reap.)  
Her Lips were Fire; her Cheeks were burning red,  
And for a Tongue a flaming Sword she had.   

370.  
She never in such horrible Array  
Appear d till now on Earth; not when she came  
With Water armed to wash the World away;  
Or unto Sodom with a Flood of Flame;  
Or when her fiery Serpents she did bring  
The Israelites Rebellion to sting.   

371.  
A Veil (so hideously black, that Night  
Is a 〈◊〉 beauteous thing to it,)  
Over her head was spread, which, though Daylight  
Were now at Liberty, would not permit  
The stoutest Mortals sin-condemned Eyes  
Ever to reach the Comfortable Skies.   

372.  
On either side, ten thousand Furies were,  
With Millions of Pangs and Ejulations;  
Woeful Eternity was also there  
Hugging each Horror: Troops of Desperations  
Raving and riotting in their own Blood  
In the vast Armies Rear behind Her stood.   

373.  
But in her Hand a sable Book she held,  
Which now She opened unto Jesu's eyes:  
When lo each dreadful Page appeared filled  
With more intolerable Prodigies  
Than those transcendent Monstrous Shapes which were  
Marshaled in her Hell-representing Rear.   

374.  
There that Rebellion painted was, which grew  
In Paradise, so huge and rank a Weed  
That it none but the Worlds own Limits knew,  
For through all Generations its Seed  
It scattered, and made each poisonous Birth  
Bring full Assurance of its own Death forth.   

375.  
The Serpent which in Eden planted it  
Wears not such fatal Horror in his Face,  
Nor stings so deep, nor doth his Venom spit  
So far and wide, nor e'er attended was  
With such a numerous Fry of Devils, as this  
Old Beldame Sin by young Ones followed is,   

376.  
This was the fearful Frontispiece: But now  
The cursed Leaves She opened one by one:  
Pride had usurped the first, and there did show  
Her swolln and blistered Countenance, which did run  
With baneful Matter, being bruised by  
A Fall she caught as she was climbing high.   

377.  
The next was Spite, broad War, close Calumny;  
Then Avarice besmeared with knawing Rust,  
And putid Lying, and foul Treachery,  
With sneaking Theft, and everstinging Lust,  
Intemperance wallowing in a nasty Flood  
Of Vomit, Murder in a Sea of Blood.   

378.  
That selfe-relying heav'n-distrusting Thing,  
Foolish base-hearted Infidelity;  
Grinding Extortion, and self-torturing  
Because for ever jealous Tyranny;  
Enchanting Error, venomous Heresy,  
Idolatry, and right-down Blasphemy,   

379.  
But for their number, it exceeds the skill  
Of Computation, and all Figures reach;  
Not all the Sparks whose glistering Armies fill  
The field of Heaven; not all the Atoms which  
Traffic about the Summer Air, can tell  
Their mighty Total how to parallel.   

380.  
For each dwarf Fault, and Giant Crime did stand  
In martial rank and file arrayed there,  
Which any Humane Tongue, or Heart, or Hand  
Was ever stained with, since Eve gave Ear  
Unto the charming Tempter, and let in  
The fatal Torrent of contagious Sin.   

381.  
Nay more than so; for every Stain and Blot  
Which through all Ages to the end of Time  
Shall taint the World, Justice had thither got,  
And in a black Appendix marshaled them.  
Thy proud Revolt, and every Fault beside,  
Psyche, were there displayed full and wide.   

382.  
And if the least of Crimes, as sure it is,  
Be infinitely foul, imagine then  
How strange a Mass of horridness was this  
Whose bulk did swell with all the Sins of Men:  
What store of black 〈◊〉 were here  
For bleeding Jesus wounded Back to beat!   

383.  
For Justice heaped them all upon his back,  
That he who did no sin, might suffer all.  
How would the Worlds establish d Pillars crack,  
Should such a Load upon their shoulders fall!  
How would the al-supporting centre faint,  
And strive to shrink into a smaller point!   

384.  
How would the joints of noblest Seraphs quake,  
How would the Cherubs sinews tremble, at  
This Burden, which all Nature's Bones would break,  
And lay heavens highest stoutest Powers flat!  
This Burden which all humane Souls would press  
Down to that bottom which is bottomless!   

385.  
Now Jesus groans, and feels his heartstrings stretch,  
For black upon his Soul the burden lies;  
Those other torments he forgetteth which  
The whips and nails, and Jewish blasphemies  
Had multiplied on him: Thus rivers be  
Quite lost, when swallowed by the bitter Sea.   

386.  
Should all the tortures that did ever yet  
The Veins, and Joints, and Hearts of Martyr's tear,  
In one fell Composition be knit,  
And then enraged to their full carrieer;  
Less furious would their fury be than that  
Which now on Jesu's Soul in triumph sat.   

387.  
Some comfort it would be, if Heaven would now  
Vouchsafe a gentle look upon its Son  
Who spies no consolations glimpse below:  
But o the spheres are not eclipsed alone  
By Phoebus' absence; no another Night  
Has thrown its Veil upon heavens dearer Light.   

388.  
The Light which from his Fathers pleased eyes  
His whole Soul used to drink, its streams did hide:  
With earnest labouring looks, he pleads, and pries,  
But is by sad obscurity denied.  
O blackness, which no Parallel canst know!  
To thee all Ink as Milk, all Pitch is Snow.   

389.  
Long did he grapple which this mighty grief  
In patient silence: But his Soul at length  
Snatching at least the desolate relief  
Of free complaining, with the woeful strength  
Of his sad tongue, this outcry He did make:  
My God, my God, why dost thou me forsake!   

390.  
Am I not still that Son in whom alone  
Thou wert wel-pleased? Is not thy bosom still  
The same where once my habitation  
I did enjoy? Why dost thou me expel  
Who am the image of thy blessed face,  
From the least sight of its all-sweetning grace?   

391.  
Had every outcry, every groan, and shriek,  
With which the air of Bethlehem was rend  
When Rachel saw how all the street did reek  
With an unheard of flood of innocent  
And infant blood, met in one ejulation,  
It's fragor had not matched this exclamation.   

392.  
Never was such a Lamentable cry  
Wrung from the mouth of Grief: nor ever was  
Complaint more unregarded: Clemency  
Was deaf, and Heaven as well as Earth did pass  
By without any Bowels: Never day  
Did such a Scene of heaviness display.   

393.  
Sorrow herself amazed at the sight,  
Would have repent of her Tyranny:  
But Jesus meant not to decline the fight,  
Who could not conquered be, though He could die.  
O no: He hugs his horrors, and although  
His nature shrinks, his courage loves his woe.   

394.  
Thus gallant Soldiers ' in the dreadful wars  
With generous Pride their gushing blood behold,  
Counting their glories only by their scars,  
And judging all their dearest limbs well sold;  
Yea and their Hearts and Lives, if so they may  
Upon their Hearses wear triumphant Bay.   

395.  
But now as in the Furnace of his Pain  
This helpless Victor fries, he cries, I thirst;  
For sure He longed to drink up and drain  
The dregs of grief, that none of the accursed  
And deadly draught he might behind him leave  
His mortal Brethren evermore to grieve.   

396.  
Yet they unkindly on a Reed present  
Him Vinagre, who broached the Wine for them,  
The Wine of his dear Blood; all which He spent  
To wash and cheer their hearts. Does he not seem  
O savage Jews, without the help of this  
Your gift to have enough of bitterness?   

397.  
Is this your thanks to Him who every year  
Your stream of harvest-pleasures pours on you;  
Who to complete your Banquet, doth prepare  
Those sovereign dainties which in Eden grow;  
And who, mean while hath with his bounteous hand  
Given you your milk and honcy slowing Land?   

398.  
Yet Jesus takes it kindly, Psyche; He  
Knew well this knawing draught would best besit  
The dying King of grief, whose misery  
So dear and precious on his Soul did sit,  
That He their wine aromatised with Myrrh  
Thought far less pleasant than this Vinagre.   

399.  
Besides, that Poison he remembered well  
Which from th' enchanting apples sweets did flow;  
By wholesome Bitterness he means to heal  
Ev's liquorish Luxury: His Palate now  
Doth expiate Hers, and nobly teacheth it  
That apples fatal relish to forget.   

400.  
And now the Tragedy began to draw  
To its sad end; for Jesus having by  
Immortal patience undergone the Law  
And curse, and grappled with the monstrous fry  
Of all the World's Transgressions: lifts his head  
In triumphup, and cries, 'tis finished.   

401.  
O that it were! said Marry, who stood by;  
So should my Soul live still with my dear Lord.  
If he has found a way how not to die,  
Why does sweet Jesus not make good his Word  
By coming down! So sighed pious she:  
But he made haste to his Catastrophe.   

402.  
For Justice now had nothing more to say,  
Since by the streams which down the Cross did slow  
All her Objections were washed away,  
And every Page of her black book did grow  
As pure and fair as the serenest skies  
When rescued from the gloomy clouds disguise.   

403.  
Wherefore she strait dismissed her horrid train,  
And then withdrew herself. These being gone,  
Jesus looked up into his Heaven again  
And saw the veil which dwelled till now, upon  
His Father's face, removed. O 〈◊〉 sight!  
O cheerly morning after heavy night!   

404.  
He saw his everlasting Arms as wide  
Stretched out, as his were on the Cross; He saw  
His blessed bosom open, which seemed to bid  
Him to his nest of bliss return, and grow  
His happy self again; He saw his eye  
Flaming in pitying Love's extremity,   

405.  
An everlasting Laurel in his hand  
He saw, designed to confute the shame  
Of his own thorny crown; He saw the grand  
Cherubick choir ambitious to proclaim  
His Conquests in their songs: And at the sight  
Resolved to die, he cries with all his might;   

406.  
Father, into thine hands I here commit  
My Spirit, which thou wooest to come to thee,  
Up flew that mighty word, and after it  
Out broke his blessed Soul; for straight way he  
Bowed down his Head, submitting sweetly to  
That will he came by life and death to do,   

407.  
The holy Temple heard his dying cry,  
And, as it could, its Clothes tore; for lo  
Its veil in sunder rend, and seemed by  
That ruptures mouth to say, I must let go  
My privilege, and Jewish rites must be  
Resigned unto Christianity.   

408.  
Earth heard it too, and quaked at the noise:  
Her rocks did rend, her sepulchers did open,  
And many sleeping Saints waked at the voice,  
Russled their dust together, and got up.  
Nature's commotion was so great and strange,  
That in the guard it straight begot a Change.   

409.  
The bold Centurion with the Earth did quake,  
(So did the Soldiers with the rocks,) and cry  
Surely the World slept in a deep mistake  
Whilst it perceived not Jesu's Deity:  
His Father now has owned Him, and He  
Did when himself was pleased in bliss to be,   

410.  
For still his vitals in their strength remain d,  
And he had force enough a while to live;  
Witness that final Blast for which he strained  
When He that strong and thundering cry did give  
These wretched theives we see still in their Pain,  
〈◊〉 he in his own rest is gone to reign.   

411.  
Nay even on savage and obdurate Jews  
So far can guilty Fear prevail, that now  
The danger-stricken People could not choose  
But grant their Hearts did feel this Terrors Blow,  
For though their sullen Tongue would not, their Fist  
Confessed their fright upon their beaten Breast.   

412.  
Here, Psyche, whose soft Heart had come and gone  
A thousand times, as he the Story told,  
Now yielded unto Griefs Dominion,  
And e'er her Guardian spied it, down she rolled,  
Joining her Passion to her Lords, and trying  
To live with Him, who died for Her, by dying.   

413.  
But Phylax by his heavenly tender Art  
Soon cheered, and raised her up, and told her She  
Must 〈◊〉 now unto the other Part  
Which of this Sadness made a Comedy.  
She looked, and sighed, and cried, All Joys are dead  
When Jesus dies; and yet, dear Sir, proceed.   

414.  
Know then, said He, this Passion and Death  
Hath pu chased all the Joys that Heaven can breed,  
And cancelled every fatal Bond of Wrath  
Which Sin had drawn against old Adam's Seed:  
All Jesu's Wounds are Gates by which Man may  
Take freely into Paradise his way.   

415.  
All sort of Pains and Shames and Sorrows he  
With matchless valour did monopolise;  
The spiteful Wit of all Hell's Treachery  
He vanquished by being made its Prize;  
And yielding up his meritorious Breath,  
Blew down the Power even of prevailing Death.   

416.  
Which when fell Satan saw, it him repent  
Of this great business he had brought about,  
And at his Den in Paxis he lamented  
His undermined Design, when Crying out  
Great Pan is dead, he made confession how  
He had projected his own Overthrow.   

417.  
For this was Pan indeed, the God of Sheep,  
Who held his tender Flock so dear that He  
From Wolves and Lions it secure to keep,  
Exposed Himself to all Extremity,  
And for the Fold found a sure Rampart out,  
When with his Blood He moated it about.   

418.  
But now a Soldier, he whose only Heart  
Was harder than those Rocks which Grief did burst,  
Boldly took on him Cruelties last Part;  
For into Jesu's side his Sphere he thrust.  
Deep in his Heart the Iron dived, and brought  
The final Stream of Blood and Water out.   

419.  
That Water which the Pericardium bound  
About the Heart, that Blood which in it dwelled:  
Thus all that in thy Saviour was found  
To feed and feast his Friends, He freely spilt.  
The Pelican so with her dearest Blood  
Diets and fattens up her dearer Brood.   

420.  
This done; the Sun unveiled his Clouded Eye,  
And joyed the Redeemed World to see:  
Forthwith the monstrous Shades away did fly  
Unto the bottom of Night's nideous Sea;  
That now Sins Blackness chased was away,  
Earth might behold a double glorious Day.   

421.  
But will no Pity on the Body look  
Which now has born the utmost spite of spite?  
Yes; Arimathean Joseph undertook  
To pay unto it its Sepulchral Right,  
And now with loving Loyalty doth mean  
To prove that he had a Disciple been.   

422.  
A true Disciple, though a Secret one;  
Witness his Fear, to generous Courage grown;  
For though his Master now were dead and gone,  
His Faith revives, nor shall the High-priests Frown  
Or People's Fury, fright his Duty from  
Yielding his Saviour his own costly Tomb.   

423.  
A Man of honourable Place was he,  
And Pilate easily grants him his Request:  
The Corpse resigned is unto his free  
Disposal: which he straightway doth invest  
With daintiest Linen, that the Winding Sheet  
Might Delicacy learn by Kissing it.   

424.  
Right well he Knew this solemn Paschal Feast.  
For bade him all Pollution by the Dead:  
And yet his pious Love durst not desist  
Till he this votive Task had finished;  
Being assured he could not stained be  
By handling the dead Corpse of Purity.   

425.  
But is Ho busy was; another Friend  
Came in, good Nicodemus, who by Night  
On jesus whilst He lived did attend,  
To gain for his obscured Judgement, Light;  
And in his blacker Night of Death doth now  
His grateful Piety upon Him bestow.   

426.  
Of precious aromatic Mixtures He  
An hundred Weight doth bring, to sacrifice  
Unto this Body's service, so to be  
Ennobled and enhanced in its price,  
The O dours smiled as they kissed the Skin,  
For by that Touch more Sweetness they did win,   

427.  
Mean while the Instruments of Death, for this  
The manner was, were yonder buried;  
Where they shall sleep until a Queen shall rise  
Out of thy Albion, from whose blessed Bed  
A Prince shall spring, who shall exalt above  
His Roman Eagles the meek Christian Dove.   

428.  
Their dear Discovery is reserved for none  
But venerable Helen; who, when here  
Hot in her passionate Devotion  
Her Saviour's Sufferings She herself shall bear,  
Transfiguring her Miditating Heart  
Into each several Torture, Wound, and Smart.   

429.  
Those noble Relics shall revealed be  
In recompense of her brave Love and Zeal:  
There for the Jewels She shall Dig, and see  
At length, the rude but glorious Spectacle:  
The Cross, and Nail She there shall find,  
Which her Lords Body pained, and her own Mind.   

430.  
Inestimable shall their Worth be held:  
One of those Nails to Constantine shall seem  
Illustrious enough his Head to gild,  
And sit enthroned upon his Diadem;  
Two in his Bridle shall triumph, when He  
Rides through the World like King of Victory.   

431.  
The Fourth shall tame the Adriatik Man,  
And nail it fast unto its bottom, so  
That on its equal pacisied Plain  
The unmolested Ships may safely go:  
Then by this Gem shall that enriched Sea  
More wealthy than the eastern Ocean be.   

432.  
But for the noble Cross; no Tongue can tell  
The Wonders that shall spring from that dry Tree,  
Which hewed out by Devotions Edge, shall fill  
The zealous World, and quit that Injury  
Which from the fatal Bough in Eden spread  
Through all the 〈◊〉 sown with humane Seed,   

433.  
Persia shall take it Captive, yet not dare  
To look upon its Prisoner; Piety  
Shall thence redeem it by a 〈◊〉 War,  
And then return it to its Calvarie  
When great Heraclius his own royal Back  
A willing Chariot for it shall make.   

434.  
But come my Dear, here on the Western side  
Of this now holy Mountain, Thou mayst see  
The precious Sepulchre of Him who died  
And who was also Buried for Thee,  
This Rock is it: Come let's into the Cave,  
No Temple is more holy than this Grave.   

435.  
Lo here good Joseph did the Body lay:  
Here lay the blessed Head and here the Feet:  
Hard was the Couch, and yet no Princes may  
Compare their Beds with it, which was more sweet  
Than solomon's, although Arabia did  
With all her sweetest Sweets go there to bed.   

436.  
The Phaeni'x balmy grave could never show  
Such sovereign Riches of perfumes, as here  
Did from thy blessed Saviour's Body flow,  
Who soon the truer Phoenix did appear.  
O precious Place! No Mavor 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Into comparison with this must come.   

437.  
What are the Monuments of Kings, but 〈◊〉  
Memorials of their putrid Rottenness,  
Whilst odious Worms and Dust enshrined are  
In specious Gold and Marble? But in this  
Plain Sepulchre bold 〈◊〉 found  
Her Hands were more than the dead 〈◊〉 bound.   

438.  
This is that Oratory, Psyche, now  
Whither the 〈◊〉 Souls 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉;  
Themselves and their best 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they  
Here all their Zealous 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
With their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
And in this Air their warmest 〈◊〉 they 〈◊〉.   

439.  
Yet time's at hand, when bold Idolatry  
Will venture to profane this sacred Place,  
To turn this Paradise into a sty,  
And holinesses beauty to deface,  
To build Hell's sovereign Monster, odious Jove  
Upon this monument of divinest love.   

440.  
But all in vain; for Christian Eagles still  
Will to the place of the dear carcase fly,  
And their impatient devotions fill  
By feasting on its precious memory.  
Jove, though the most impure of things, is not  
So foul, as this Toombs purity to blot.   

441.  
And here may'st thou, for I thy heats discover,  
Sweet Psyche, stay and ease thy burning heart;  
Thy Uows and Prayers here thou may'st run over,  
And with the pious world take thy free part.  
Do; riot in thy zeal; I will attend  
And keep the door till thou hast made an end.   

442.  
Psyche, who scarcely for this cue could wait,  
Fell on her face and kissed the dramatic floor;  
Where her brave flames so melted her, that straight  
Her armorous sighs and soul she forth did pour,  
And by the strong embrace of Faith and Love  
Seemed there to hug Him who was high above.   

443.  
Through all his pains, and all his wounds she went,  
And on her own heart printed every one:  
Her bowels with his woeful cry she rend,  
And wished not 〈◊〉 seeing he found none:  
By bitter thoughts, his nails, his throns, his spear  
She copied out, by tears his Vinagre.   

444.  
But coming to his death, she fetched a sigh  
Up from the bottom of her soul, in hope  
Her life would have flown in its company,  
And made her passion too completely up;  
Striving in meek ambitious love to have  
The ready honour of her Saviour's Grave.   

445.  
Desire lay boiling in her ardent breast,  
With secret groans her Aspirations beat,  
With restless panting she reached at that rest  
To which her Lord was flown; and in the heat  
Of this contention, she was towered so high,  
That scarce her Body upon earth did lie.   

446.  
But when life held her on this dainty Rack,  
In a full Ocean of Inamorations  
And mighty Ecstasies she strove to wrack  
Her labouring heart: And yet these perturabtions  
And strong assaults of loves intestine war,  
She by diviner loves assistance bare.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XIV. The Triumph of Love.  
ARGUMENT.  

LOve, binds, in his own Den the King of Hate,  
Death and Corruption in the Grave subdues,  
Turns back the mighty Stream of Mortal Fate,  
Himself alive to his Disciples shows,  
In Triumphs bright Excess Ascends upon  
A Cloud, and mounts his everlasting Throne.   

1.  
VIcissitude, how doth thy constant Change  
Cheer up the World, which else would droop & faint!  
Thou no strange Thing wilt suffer to be strange  
Whilst with all Companies Thou dost acquaint;  
For thy Chamaeleons skin is made to fit  
All Sorts of Colours that can meet with it.   

2.  
When heavens wise Hand did mould these things We see  
As Nature's noble Sport and Recreation,  
It constituted thy Uncertainty  
For ever certain in its Variation;  
That as God knows no Change, so all Things else  
Might feel the Motion of Mutations Pulse.   

3.  
All things at first were Night; then Day burst forth,  
But Night soon stole upon Days back again,  
Yet in the Morning crept behind the Earth,  
And suffered Light her full twelve Hours to reign;  
Thus have all Ages only been the Play  
Of inter woven chequered Night and Day.   

4.  
When peevish Winters churlish Breath doth blow  
His froazen Scythia all about the Earth,  
Commanding Nature in a Bed of Snow  
To lie and sleep, and let no Bud peep forth;  
Who would imagine she could break again  
From the captivity of her icey Chain?   

5.  
Yet when the Sun leaps in the lusty Ram,  
Forthwith the spring takes heart, encouraged by  
The neighbourhood of his enlivening flame,  
And clothes the World with fresh fertility,  
Bidding the troublesome snow no more be seen,  
And changing earth's white mantle to a green.   

6.  
Sometimes the winds conspire upon the main  
To plow the deeps, and throw them at the sky,  
To let them thunder headlong down again,  
And with new wrath return them up as high,  
Till all the Sea be on a foaming sweat,  
And Rocks, and Ships, and Sailors hearts be split.   

7.  
Yet when these Blasts their fury out have blown,  
The Ocean becomes a polished plain,  
Mildly presenting for each billowie frown  
A gentle smile: The Sirens play again,  
The Seamen hoist their sails, the Halcyon lays  
Her Eggs, and gives her name to quiet days.   

8.  
When the laborious Ploughman hath by day  
Worried himself, and Earth, and watered it  
With his own sweat; cool night his head doth lay  
Safe on his Bed, and teach him to forget  
His toilsome work; whilst soft and gentle sleep  
Yields him a crop of pleasant dreams to reap.   

9  
When tedious sickness by her rampant fits  
Has in the Body her sad revels kept;  
Health takes her happy cue, and cheerly sets  
Herself to work, nor stops till she has swept  
The veins and Stomach, and with lively fire  
Cheered up the Spirits which began to tyre.   

10.  
Though Grief sometimes, conspiring with the Night,  
Disconsolations on an heart doth throw;  
Yet Comfort dawning with the morning light  
Smootheth the sullen furrows of the brow,  
And with its virgin beams of sweetness dries  
The briny moisture of the clouded eyes.   

11.  
But no vicissitude, in sweetness may  
Compare with that which cures the worst of gall;  
Whose beams can chase the shades of death away  
And kindle comforts in a Funeral;  
Which to a sepulchre can say, stand open,  
And let thy Prisoner into Life get up.   

12.  
Indeed some glimpses of this blessed Change  
Had glanced on the World before; yet they  
Were but faint shadows of the bright and strange  
Mutation which did shine on Easter-day;  
For they effected were by borrowed Might,  
This dawn'd and rose by none but its own light.   

13.  
Jesus alone was He, in whose brave Hand  
Dwelled that authentic Power which knew how  
To give his Mortal Fate a Countremand;  
To force his stout Grave to repent; to throw  
A side his winding Sheet, and clearly turn  
His own Death's Night into a living Morn.   

14.  
And, now the reverend Place did prompt him too  
The glorious Story, Phylax means to paint  
Its several Wonders unto Psyche, who  
Under her holy Passion strove to faint.  
He takes her up, and sweetly cries, My Dear,  
Life's Monument, as well as Deaths, is here.   

15.  
And 'tis the same; this very grave doth now  
With open mouth proclaim the death of Death.  
Come sit thee down, and I will tell thee how  
By his own loss thy vanished Saviour hath  
Victorious proved, and reaped such Palms as yet  
No other Conqueror could ever get.   

16.  
When in this Cabinet good Joseph had  
The precious Jewel laid; a massy stone  
Unto the Monuments mouth he rolled, and made  
It safe from injuries invasion,  
Being still suspicious of the tyranny  
Of the High-priests, which with death could not 〈◊〉.   

17.  
It could not die; and was resolved that He  
Should neither live, nor seem to live again,  
Whom their flagitious importunity  
Had by faint-hearted pilate's sentence slain.  
To Him they come afresh, and, fawning, cry,  
Long live great Caesar and his Deputy.   

18.  
Sir, in our Gods, and in our Country's name  
Full thanks We tender for that Justice you  
Have done on Jesus, blotting out that shame  
Which on our Temple His foul Mouth did throw:  
Nor will you want even Caesar's praise, since he  
Reigns by your care from dangerous tumults free.   

19  
For what might this stout Conjurer have done  
If He had Vengeance scaped, and lived still?  
Who by the Magic of his Death alone  
jerusalem doth with amazement fill:  
How many Foundlings struck their Breasts, and cried  
Sure He's the Son of God, even when He died!   

20.  
There's Danger therefore, lest this Serpent's blood  
Rankle the Air, and taint our credulous Nation;  
Especially since he himself thought good  
To pave the Way to some such Perturbation,  
Telling his Scholars he to them again  
Would rise the third Day after he was slain.   

21.  
Now Sir, if sheltered by thievish Night  
They from his Grave should steal Him, and proclaim  
That He is Risen by his heavenly Might,  
What Danger might attend on such a Fame!  
How would the seeming Miracle entice  
Seditious Multitudes with Him to Rise!   

22.  
Then would the Mischief swell to greater Height,  
Then if the Traitor were indeed alive:  
Against the power of that new Deceit  
Alas both You and We in vain should strive;  
For how shall We attach Him who is dead,  
And yet into new Life's opinion sled!   

23.  
Say what we could, the mutinous Rabble still  
By the Graves open Mouth would seal up ours,  
Provoking Us unto that Miracle  
By which They'll countenance their Rebellious Powers;  
And with outràgious Falsehood bear Us down,  
Crying, They serve Him who to Heaven is flown.   

24.  
Pilate, whose Conscience gripped Him for what  
He had already done, no more would trade  
In that uncomfortable Business; but  
Them of their spiteful Project Masters made.  
Ye have a Watch; Go make all sure, said He,  
And satisfy your politic jealousy.   

25.  
This was enough: Away go They, in haste  
To make God sure for ever stirring more:  
Annas and Caiaphas both their Seals set fast  
Upon the Stone which dammed up the Door;  
Charging a double Guard, appointed well  
With Swords and Spears, to wait on either Seal.   

26.  
Fools as they are, their Plots and Counsels be  
But only wise conspiracies to make  
The Resurrections glorious Mystery  
With more unanswerable Lustre break  
Forth in their Faces, since their Guard and Seal  
Shall now bear witness to the Miracle.   

27.  
So when the envie-blinded Median Peers  
Had got great Daniel in the sealed Den  
Of hungry Death; their Jealousies and Fears  
They confidently laid asleep: but when  
The Day awaked, they found their fell Design  
Proved his Deliverance the more Divine.   

28.  
Mean while the sacred Corpse lay sleeping here;  
And jolly Death triumphed in the Grave,  
Presuming that no Man her force could bear  
Since she the deadly Wound to Jesus gave;  
He was her only feared Champion, and  
Lo now she saw him conquered by her Hand.   

29.  
Long had she vexed, and pined remembering how  
Brave Enoch and Elias rescued were  
From her Monarchik Cruelty: but now  
That feebler Pair she is content to spare,  
And gluts her bloody Heart with Joy to see  
This Trophy of most matchless Victory.   

30.  
She never took such proud Delight to set  
Her foot on Alexander's Toomb, or see  
The Sons of Anak all in Ashes meet,  
Or Josua's Dust with his own Grave agree,  
Or steely Samson turn to rotten Clay,  
Or vast Goliath mouldering away.   

31.  
She kissed her bloody Dart, and vowed to build  
An Arc of triumph to its Victory;  
With high Disdain she all the World beheld,  
Which now had no pretence but it must Die;  
Since Lifes own Champion became her prey  
And tame, and cold, and dead before her lay.   

32.  
There lay his Body; but his Soul mean time  
Triumphed more than she; for down into  
The Kingdom of the hidden World, the Chime  
Of unsuspecting Darkness, it did go,  
And took the Powers of Hell all napping in  
The secret Cloisters of their gloomy Den.   

33.  
Hell's Gates of sturdy Brass He flung in sunder.  
Shaking the bottom of the monstrous Deep:  
The Porter frighted at the Ruins thunder  
Into the Gulf to hide his Head did leap:  
But equal Horror there he met, for all  
The Pit was startled when the Gates did fall   

34.  
So when the mighty Son of Manoah, who  
Presumed was the City's Prisoner, tore  
The Gates of Gaza, to make way unto  
His conquering March; the People's dreadful Roar  
Answered the Pillars boisterous Crack, whilst all  
Thought their own Roofs about their Ears did fall.   

35.  
Imperial Lustre streaming from the face  
Of Jesue, in the eyes of hideous Night,  
Upon the swarthy Flames of that foul 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 such an Ocean of immortal 〈◊〉.  
That into every hole they crept aside,  
Seeking their 〈◊〉 Shame to hide   

36.  
About the hollow Bowels of the Cave  
An universal Groan itself did spread;  
Whose Echo such an hideous Answer gave,  
That all Hell gasping seemed on its Deaths-hed;  
Strait followed such Yell, Shrieks, and 〈◊〉  
As truly spoke Damnation's Miseries.   

37.  
Imagine what the blear-eyed Sons of Night  
Ravens, Scritchowls', Bats, and such foul things would do  
If they surprised were by Highnoon Light  
In their black Nests: o whether should they go  
When their illustrious Enemy doth reach  
The very entrails of their closest Pitch.   

38.  
Incomparably more the Horror was  
Which shot itself quite through the Heart of Hek;  
For these commanding Rays did freely pass  
Through the black Mass of every Obstacle  
With such stout Brightness, that amidst the store  
Of never-dying Fires, it kindled more.   

39  
The Lakes of Sulphur boiled with new Heat,  
And every Pang and Torment hotter grew;  
Dispair afreshat every Bosom beat,  
Upon the next Fiend's race each Fury fiew,  
And every Devil scratched and tore his Brother;  
Wreaking their Mannesse upon one another.   

40.  
The Snakes their Hisses and their Poison spit,  
And in a thousand Knots tied, and untied  
Their woeful selves again; The Gorgon's split,  
Their monstrous Throats with raving; and the wide  
And fiery-mouthed Dragons howling loud,  
Whole torrents of their flaming venom spewed.   

41.  
The Peers of Hell cursed their unhappy King  
Whose Pride did to this Torment them betray:  
They hoped the Light of Heaven would never spring  
In their black Clime, to pour on them Dismay;  
But now they saw't in Jesu's Eyes, it more  
〈◊〉 them than when they fell from it before.   

42.  
Their belching bosoms heaved high, and fain  
They would have belched out that working Loaa  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 my which held their Souls in pain:  
But mighty Terror stopped the sulphury road  
Of their foul Throats, and forced their ready Sin  
Only to split their hearts, and rage within,   

43.  
Black Avarice, with foul-mouthed Calumny,  
And desperate Treachery, who their Heads had laid  
Together in that fell Conspiracy  
By which Life's King was unto Death betrayed,  
With self-condemning Horror quaked to find  
Their Mischiefs all against Themselves 〈◊〉   

44.  
Although Confusion always reigned here,  
It never sat so high upon its Throne  
As now, nor such Monarchik sway did bear  
In all the Deep, whose strange Distraction  
Outvi'd the Discords of that monstrous Mass  
Which the rude hideous Womb of All Things was   

45.  
But the Red Dragon, red in innocent Blood,  
Great Belzebub, was more confounded than  
All Hell besides: for well he understood  
That now he deeplier conquered was, than when  
Down from the Pinnacie of Heaven he fell  
Into the Centre and the sink of Hell.   

46.  
That Jesus, for whose Blood so long ago  
A hunting unto Bethlehem he went  
with Herod's pack of Hounds; that Jesus 〈◊〉  
When in the Desert all his Craft he bent  
To cheat Him into Sin, did contremine  
With nobler Wisdom his profound Design.   

47.  
That jesus whom He by the Wit of Scorn  
Through jews blasphemous Mouths had vilified;  
Whom He by Treachery had Prisoner born  
Unto his Mortal Enemy's Bar, and tried  
By the impetuous lawless Law of Cries,  
Of Threats, broad Tumults, 〈◊〉 Calumnies.   

48.  
Whom by the service of his Hell-bounds He  
Had spit upon, had scourged, had busseted;  
Whom through all Infamies Extremity  
He to this Mountain of his ' Death had led;  
Whom on the Trec of Shame and Pain He 〈◊〉,  
And then with further Blasphensies assailed.   

49.  
Whom of his blood he plundered, and at last  
Of his dear life; Whom having murdered thus,  
He in his Sepulchre got sealed fast,  
And clearly then was thought victorius;  
This very Jesu's Soul He seeth now  
Marching with triumph in his Realm below.   

50.  
He sees his deep-laied Plots and Projects prove  
But engines of their Master's overthrow;  
He sees against himself he only strove  
When unto Christ he gave the mortal blow;  
That death by which he hoped to have suppressed  
The Lord of Life, now lives in his own breast.   

51.  
He sees the Cross, in a full Banner spread,  
And shining with imperial gallantry;  
That precious blood with which he made it red,  
Gilds, and adorns it now with Majesty;  
He sees it streaming in the swarthy air,  
And at its awful motion, melts for fear.   

52.  
He sees the dreadful thorns, and feels them prick  
His guilty Soul; He sees the nails, and thinks  
That deep in his rebellious Heart they stick;  
He winds about his woeful tail, He shrinks,  
He starts, he finds that something more than Hell  
Did now in his tormented bosom dwell.   

53.  
Three times He 〈◊〉 his Pride upon the back,  
And cheered his everlasting stomach up;  
But straight his swelling Heartstrings 'gan to crack,  
And failed the courage of his insolent hope  
Three times his Furic strove to chide his 〈◊〉,  
And yet this terror still did 〈◊〉.   

54.  
But Jesus marching on in conquering might  
Pitch d his brave foot upon the Monster's head:  
All thunder's thoats did never yet affright  
The Air with such a Roar as bellowed  
From Satan's mouth, when crushed by the load  
Of that strong foot, he yielded to his God.   

55.  
For as the surly Lion wounded by  
Some noble Hero's might, in his own den,  
Rends all the cave with his impatient cry,  
And makes his frighted neighbours further run;  
So 〈◊〉 loud shriek tore all his deep,  
And forced the Elves into their holes to creep.   

56.  
Had the whole world been heaved upon his Head,  
And thousands more upon the back of this;  
A tolerable burden it had made:  
But all the weight of weight, mere lightness 〈◊〉  
To this inestimable load which now  
Lay full and sure upon his squeezed 〈◊〉,   

57  
His squeezed Brow; for both his Horns were broke;  
So was his Scull, from whence a Stream did burst  
Of ranker Poisons than did ever look  
Forth until now; a Stream of all accursed  
Designs, of Blasphemy, of Rage, of Pride,  
And every Quality of Hell's King beside,   

58.  
Thus did the first and noblest promise prove  
Completely good; thus did the woman's seed  
The seed of blessed Mary, get above  
The wiley Serpents most envenomed head,  
And bruise it withfull vengeance for that 〈◊〉  
With which he used the heel of Man to bite.   

59  
This done: learn now, the mighty victor cried,  
That as above, so I am King below.  
What you have gained by your spite and 〈◊〉,  
Your own Elves now may read upon your Brow;  
Deep-graved the lesson is; and yet I know  
Not deep enough to mend or 〈◊〉, or then.   

60.  
For deeper printed is your desperate 〈◊〉  
On your obdurate hearts; and though by me  
Their head you might be warned not to 〈◊〉.  
Against my 〈◊〉 yet were you left 〈◊〉  
To your own 〈◊〉, you all your 〈◊〉 would 〈◊〉  
To broach and 〈◊〉 their 〈◊〉, 〈…〉.   

61.  
With that, an adamantine Chain about  
The Dragon's neck the Conqueror did throw;  
A Chain, which, though the Monster's Teeth be stout  
As hardest Steel, yet He in vain doth knaw:  
Henceforth He lies fast prisoner, and can rove  
Only where Jesus gives Him leave to move,   

62.  
Judas, who near this place did frying lie,  
With unconceived anguish gnashed his Teeth,  
Being tormented at his Master's Eye  
Whom He so wretchedly had sold to Death.  
He sold his Master; but the Bargain on  
Himself returned, and He did die alone.   

63.  
He looked the next Stepp on his woeful Head  
With equal pressure surely fixed should be;  
His Head, which next to crushed Satan's did  
Deserve pre-eminence in Misery.  
Yet the kind Conqueror meant not Him to burn  
Even with his Eye, but it away did turn.   

64.  
Him He reserved to his other Day  
Of Triumph, when both Caiaphas, and He,  
And all that cruel Rout which made their Prey  
Of his most innocent Humility,  
Shall look on Him whom they have pierced with Thorns,  
And Whips, and Spears, and Blasphemies, and Scorns.   

65.  
Yet He an universal Prospect took  
With princely Awfulness about the Deep;  
The radiant Dint of which triumphant Look  
Scorched all the fiends, and fires, which there did keep  
With greater torment, than when He at first  
Through their brazen Gates did thither burst.   

66.  
What glimpse of Hopes can cheer the Whelps when They  
Have seen the Father Lion trampled down?  
Alas, the head of every Devil lay  
Bruised in Satan's; and they count their own,  
No longer so, since He could not maintain  
With all his Wit and Policy, his own Brain.   

67.  
But whilst themselves They with this Horror slew,  
Jesus did for another Foe prepare;  
In royal State He marched back, and flew  
To a new Conquest in his Sepulchre;  
Where shivering and couching close lay Death,  
Astonished at the dismal noise beneath.   

68  
She heard the ruin of the Brazen Door,  
She heard the yelling of each frighted fiend,  
She heard opprested Satan's sovereign Roar,  
And felt a sudden fatal Terror rend  
Her late triumphant Heart, which suffered by  
Its sympathy with Hell's Calamity.   

69.  
Arrived here, this Monster He descried  
With more than deadly Paleness in her face,  
Striving her guilty Head in vain to hide  
From the dread Brightness which surprised the place;  
For now none of her wont loved Shade  
To muffle up her ghastly Self she had.   

70.  
Such streams of living Light from JESV'S eyes  
Broke forth, as with more splendour stuffed the Toomb  
Than dwells in Phoebu's globe; Death scalded flies  
About the Cave, and hunts to find some room  
Where she may scape that parching Lustres ire  
Whose business seemed to light her funeral Fire.   

71.  
When lo thy Spouse his foot already red  
With Hell's best Blood, upon her Bosom set,  
And cried, foul Monster, whom I never did,  
Create, but Pride and Insolence begat,  
'Tis time thou feel that yet I have to do  
With Thee,, both Mine and all my Subjects foe.   

72.  
Thy hideous most accursed Mother Sin  
Due Vengeance from this righteous Hand has felt.  
And thou Her Brat, in vain dost nestle in  
This gloomy Rock, in hopes to hide thy Gild:  
The whole World's Graves which by thy Tyranny  
Alone are filled, proclaim one due to thee.   

73.  
Even from thy Birth, Destruction was thy Trade.  
And thou didst traffik the whole Earth about;  
All Generations thy prize were made,  
And yet thy Stomach still new Booties sought,  
Hell, which I plummed but now, less bottomiesie  
Than that strange Gulf of thy lank belly is.   

74.  
The stoutest Kings no favour found with Thee,  
But at thy stouter feet Thou mad'st them bow;  
Thy shameless Worms thou gav'st authority  
On Prince's noble Breasts to crawl and knaw;  
Saucy Corruption thou command'st to tread  
And trample upon every laureate Head.   

75.  
My dearest Saints Thou mingled'st with thy prey,  
And deep into their graves didst trample them:  
Had I not with mine own hand snatched away  
That Pair which I too precious did esteem  
To be devoured by thee, Elias now,  
And Enoch had in dust been trodeu low,   

76.  
By this thine uncontrolled cruelty  
Thou to the top of insolence didst rise,  
And ventured'st to throw thy Dart at me,  
That Dart which in my slaugh tread body lies.  
And if I die, shalt thou exempted be?  
Forbid it all my might and Majesty.   

77.  
At this the Monster fetched an hideous groan,  
So great that all the dying cries which she  
Throughout the world had caused, seemed in one  
Huge ejulation moulded up to be;  
All deadly Agonies that ever were,  
With just requital bounded now on her.   

78.  
But Jesus straight broke every fatal chain  
In which she us d her conquered Preys to tie:  
And now the Fates themselves seemed to complain  
That their grand Law groaned under injury;  
That Law which Heaven itself enacted, and  
Bid it in Paradises records stand.   

79.  
Their breeding murmur reached Jesu's ear,  
(For nothing scaped him which he pleased to know,)  
When 〈◊〉, he looking up, such potent fear  
Flew on all them, as bowed their Heads as low  
As they were high before; for straight they saw  
His royal will, and knew their sovereign Law.   

80.  
Then, as Death groaning lay, He drew the dart  
From his own Body's side, and to the head  
With mighty vengeance stuck it in her heart.  
The wound, though deep, made not the weapon red,  
For all the Gore that at its mouth it spewed  
Black as foul Styx's inky puddle showed.   

81.  
Thrice did the Monster gasp; and then let fly  
Her cursed Ghost, which stole its way to hell:  
Her carcase stretched out on the ground did lie,  
Her chap fell down, her tongue in which did dwell  
All poison's 〈◊〉, hung dangling out; Thus she  
Who reigned o'er mortals, felt Mortality.   

82.  
But the brave Conqueror thus having slain  
Her once, by killing her, resolved now  
To slay her by restoring her again  
To her accursed life; for from below  
He beckoned her pale Ghost, and bid it dwell  
At home again, as in a fouler Hell.   

83.  
And now, said he, since thou hast felt my might,  
Remember my command, and live again;  
Henceforth, thou with thy sting no more shalt fight,  
Nor on thy Prisoners clap a slavish chain:  
Yet use thy dart; for'tis my royal will  
Though I forbid thy rage, to let thee Kill.   

84.  
Thou who before, the tyrant wert, shalt now  
The servant to my mortal Brethren be,  
And open the gate by which from Life below  
Their Souls shall fly to live and reign with me;  
But see their bodies in their quiet sleep  
Until I call for them, thou safely keep,   

85.  
This double Conquest gained; He looked aside  
And sneaking in a Corner of the Toomb  
Corruption, with her Worms about her, spied,  
Who crawled and wrought withal their might to come  
And seize upon the Body; but as yet  
Could not find strength enough to reach to it.   

86.  
He spied them there, and charged them to be gone:  
At which great word they into nothing fled.  
With that his sacred body he put on  
As easily as he some Cloak had spread  
Upon his shoulders, or his finger put  
Into an Annulet exactly fit.   

87.  
Thus hast thou seen a tried fencer from  
His bloody Scene of prowess, with the prize  
His virtue purchased, returning home  
There to enjoy his glorious victories;  
But first he cloaths his arms, and breast, and back,  
Whose naked valour scorned the combats shock.   

88  
His heart with life and joy straight 'gan to leap,  
His veins with new-recovered blood grew hot,  
His blessed eyes threw off their 〈◊〉 sleep  
And their long leaden night of Rest forgot,  
Afresh the Roses budded in his lip,  
New smiles and graces in his checks did trip.   

89.  
Off fell the Napkin, and the Winding Sheet,  
Not daring to conceal the Beauties which  
In a strange Confluence of Glory met  
All Parts of his pure Body to enrich,  
Which, fairer than the Sons of Men before,  
Out-shined now its former Grace's store.   

90.  
For passing through the Seirce of Death, it there  
Lost all the grossness of Mortality,  
And riseth more illustrious and clear  
Than silver Venus in the Evening Skye:  
What was but course and animal till now,  
Doth most refined, and Spiritual grow.   

91.  
It doth no longer like a Prison sit  
Obscure and lumpish on the soul, but is  
Made light and pliant, and completely fit  
For her, and for her nimblest Businesses:  
And as our ready Wings do every where  
Move with our, Wills so that can do with Her.   

92.  
For He who our brave Sprightfulnes could make  
Of dull and sleepy Nothing, easily may  
Teach heavy Flesh and Blood how to awake  
Into Angelik Pureness, and array  
It round with full as fair a robe of light  
As makes the Cherubs or the Seraphs bright.   

93.  
But now the promised Time was come, and He  
As early as the third Day meant to Rise:  
Remarried to his Body instantly  
Out of his Toomb He leaps; not in the guise  
Of boisterous Lightning which doth rend the Clouds,  
But that which through unbroken Bodies crowds.   

94.  
Oft hast Thou seen the sprightful Image fly  
Completely through a Crystal Wall, which yet  
Unbruised, uncracked it leaveth: So did thy  
Much purer Lord through the stout Marble get;  
For still it kept the Tombs Mouth close, and still  
Was trusty to the Priests unmoved Seal.   

95.  
Thus Psyche, e'er the dull World was awake  
Life Rose for it, and Death's strong Gates set open,  
That it aforehand might a Passage make  
Unto all mortal Ashes to get up:  
His Members Risen are in Him their Head,  
Though yet in Death they never went to Bed.   

96.  
His Resurrection a sure Ernest is  
Of theirs who ever died, or can die:  
He buried was only the Grave to dress,  
To purge, to sweeten, and to Sanctify:  
That in that safe retiring Room his Friends  
May take their Rest, until for Them He sends.   

97.  
Indeed all Joys seemed to be slain when He  
Completing Bitternesses Tragedy,  
Fetched his last gasp upon the fatal Tree:  
But this dear Morning they revived, and by  
His rising Body so refined were,  
That They like it, Spiritual appear.   

98.  
No wonder this sweet Day doth sit so high  
In pious Souls esteem, and bear away  
The reverend glory and solemnity  
Of the old consecrated Sabbath Day:  
No wonder that upon the first Days head  
The Sev'nths fair diadem is established.   

99  
'tis true, on That, when God six days had wrough:  
Fetching from Nothing Whatsoever We see,  
And All this All unto perfection brought;  
He stayed his Hand, and ordered it to be  
To sacred Jollity a constant Feast,  
That all Things else might play, when He did rest.   

100  
But on this Day, his Rest was far more great;  
For all his life full hard He laboured had,  
He wept, He struggled, and his blood He Sweat,  
His strength, his life, He spent, on Death He Trod:  
And trampled Hell; and now Rose up again  
In matchless 〈◊〉 evermore to reign.   

101.  
O noble Sabbath! may all Glories swell  
Each hour and minute of thy sacred light:  
May Piety's best Exultations dwell  
In thee alone: and cursed be the spite  
Of any Heresy which e'er shall dare  
Thy festival Prerogative to impair.   

102.  
The other Sabbath was a Shade of Thee;  
And Thou the Copy art of that which shall  
Amidst the Triumphs of Immensity  
Be all heavens everlasting Festival;  
A Feast which shall no higher Title know  
Than the Lords Day, and this brave Day art Thou.   

103.  
But zealous Magdalene could not rest in Bed:  
O no; her Soul was here sealed in the Tomb,  
And though the Sabbaths Law did her forbid  
Until itself expired were, to come  
And seek it here; yet now she could not stay  
To be conducted by the mornings Ray.   

104.  
She, and another love-inflamed Friend  
Borrowed Speeds Wings, and having purchased store  
Of precious Ointment and of Spice, to spend  
Upon the sacred Corpse, set forth before  
The Sun got out of bed; but as they came  
Near to the Tomb, He peeped forth on Them.   

105.  
He peeped forth, and little thought that Day  
Was up before, and had prevented Him.  
This Day was Jesus his, and scorned to stay  
And be beholden to the tardy beam  
Of glaring Phoebus, since it of its own  
Glories had ample store its head to crown.   

106.  
So had the Corpse of Sweets, had it lain still;  
But this was gone: Yet shall religious They  
Find something which will their Devotion fill  
With Satisfaction, and in full repay  
Their Odours Price; for in the Tomb they see  
An Angel sitting in bright Majesty.   

107.  
This was that noble Spirit who in haste  
Flew down from Heaven, just as thy Lord got up,  
And whose pressed business was, away to cast  
That mighty stone which did the Tombs Mouth stop,  
That these religious Visitants might there  
See how their Saviour's Words performed were.   

108.  
And gallantly his blessed Work he did,  
For at his mighty coming Earth did quake;  
The Seal was startled, and in pieces fled;  
The trembling Stone was ready too to break,  
And had in shivers fallen, had not he  
Rolled it aside, and bid it quiet be.   

109.  
When lo the Watch which at the Sepulchre  
Guarded the High-priests Sin with Swords and Spears,  
Forthwith beyond their own protection were,  
Being arrested by prodigious Fears;  
The Hills Commotion reached to their Hearts,  
Which with the Seal split in a thousand parts.   

110.  
But chiefly at the Angel's Presence They  
Were seized with their intoletable Fright:  
His shining Robes were glorious as the Day,  
And partners with the driven Snow in white;  
For 'twas his Easter Suit, the Suit he had  
To honour this bright Feast on purpose made.   

111.  
And yet the Lustre which kept Holiday  
Rejoicing in his delicate attire,  
Could not such wealthy floods of rays display  
As streamed from his aspects fairer fire,  
For in the Majesty of his sweet face  
A spring of living lightning bubbling was.   

112.  
In this celestial bravery his throne  
He took upon the stone he rolled thence,  
Whence his illustrious terror he upon  
The eyes of all the Soldiers did dispense;  
At whose bright dint forthwith each man let fall  
His sword, and tumbled down himself withal.   

113.  
They tumbled down, and where they tumbled, lay  
For though they gladly would have farther fled,  
Alas they had no Power to run away,  
Pallid Amazement nailed them there for dead.  
Thus they who came to guard thy Saviour's Tomb,  
Into capacity of their own were come.   

114.  
When the two Maries spied this Stranger there,  
And all the Watch before Him slain with Dread.  
They in their Passion began to share;  
And had not Innocence its Protection spread  
Over their hearts, this Apparition had  
An equal Conquest on their Spirits made.   

115.  
But when the Angel saw them drawing near,  
He sweetly intercepted further Fright:  
You have, said he, no portion in this fear  
Which on this Watch of Wickedness doth light:  
I know your errand well, (and here he smiled  
And all his face with gentler lustre filled.)   

116.  
You likewise Come to Watch the Corpse, but yet  
To Pray withal: You Jesus come to find,  
Although his Cross and Shame themselves do set  
Full in your way to daunt your pious Mind;  
You bravely Come, although a Guard stood here,  
Your Spices and Devotions to prefer.   

117.  
You in courageous forgetfulness  
Of your faint feeble sex, Come to attend  
Upon his body who forsaken is  
By his own Masculine Scholars; I commend  
Your early valiant zeal; although it be  
Arrived here too late your Hopes to see.   

118.  
For Jesus earlier was up than you,  
And unto slaughtered death bequeathed his Tomb:  
His royal Word long since He passed you know,  
And this prefixed morning being come,  
Impossible it was that longer He  
In Death's coldregion should froazen be.   

119.  
Doubt not this news I tell; Come in, and let  
Your eyes convince your hearts; His empty bed  
You see, with all the clothes and Sheets of it;  
This Bed from whence He nobly flourished  
Into new life: a cold dead bed; but He  
You know sprung first from dry virginity.   

120.  
The Angel's Words the holy Women read  
Plain in the Grave, and in the Grave-cloaths; yet  
So deeply were their Souls astonished  
At this 〈◊〉 of wonders, which beset  
Their unprovided thoughts, that they surmise  
Some pleasing error flattered their eyes.   

121.  
Which He perceiving, sweetly chode their doubt,  
Their jealous faintness, and dejected eyes;  
Demanding why they in Death's Closet sought  
For Him who thence to open life did rise?  
He cheers them then, and tells them they shall be  
The Angels of this news, as well as Herald   

122.  
Make haste said he to the Disciples, who  
As jealous of this business are as you;  
Bid them be cheerly and to Galilee go,  
Where unto them their Lord himself will show:  
And, gentle Souls, you to forestall their doubt,  
May tell them you from me this message brought.   

123.  
Out went the pious Women in a sweet  
Distraction of loving fear and joy;  
The glorious Miracle did fear beget,  
The blessed news, new comfort did display.  
With doubtful certainty they trembling ran,  
And told their sight to Peter, and to John.   

124.  
Dear Sirs, they cried, o what, what shall we do!  
The only Relict of our Hope is gone;  
But where our Lords sweet body is, or who  
Hath born it from the tomb, God knows alone:  
We with these eyes the empty Grave beheld,  
Which us with terrible amazement filled.   

125.  
Indeed an Angel, if our fancy did  
Not cheat our ears, joy to our sorrow spoke,  
And told us that our Saviour from his Bed  
Of death was rise, commanding us to make  
You with the news acquainted: But whatever  
The matter is, our hearts still beat with fear.   

126.  
He bade us charge you and your Brethren all  
To meet in Galilee; For there, said he  
Their risen Master's apparition shall  
Requite th' attendance of their Piety.  
O that it might be so! though he had set  
Even the World's furthest end for you to meet.   

127.  
So spoke the Women; but the standers by,  
Shaked their wise heads at the unlikely news;  
And, see, said they, the wild credulity  
Of female hearts, whom fancy doth abuse!  
How fine a story they can forge and fashion  
Of no materials, but imagination!   

128.  
And yet for all this censure; wiser John  
Fired at the news, thought not of Galilee,  
But in Love's loyal disobedience ran  
Hither, the present Miracle to see.  
The same spur pricked on Peter too, and He  
Stoutly set forward in his company.   

126.  
Unto their Prey no Eagles e'er did post  
With heartier Speed; ne'er did Ambition make  
To Crowns and Sceptres more impatient haste;  
No Spark to Heaven its course did ever take  
With braver Zeal; than this religious Pair  
Flew to observe the empty Sepulchre.   

56.  
But John, in whose soft Breast more flames did reign,  
More flames of Youth, and more of gallant Love,  
His fellow-traveller did soon out-strein,  
And got before: In vain old Peter strove;  
For though his Tongue were always forward, yet  
John had the quicker Heart, and nimbler Feet.   

131.  
He first came to the Tomb: but stricken there  
With awful reverence, only sent his Eye  
Into the bottom of the Cavern, where  
The Resurrections Relics He did spy,  
The linen Clothes, which had the grace to kiss  
The sacred Body of all Sweetnesses.   

132.  
But panting Peter there arrived, ' in  
The wont boldness of his fervid Zeal,  
Entered the Cave: Which pattern strait did win  
So much on John, that to the Spectacle  
He followed Him, and with joint Wonder, there  
Gazed and examined the Sepulchre.   

133.  
He gazed, and clearly found his Eye told true:  
This roused his Faith, and made Her likewise open  
Her Eyes the blessed Mystery to view:  
She looked, and plainly saw Her Lord was up;  
And needed now no Angels Tongue to seal  
To Her the Truth of that grand Miracle.   

134.  
These two Disciples having seen their fill,  
To feed upon the Wonder, home returned:  
But Magdalene, who had thither followed, still  
Stayed by the Tomb to quench her Heart which burned  
With Griefs impatient Love: The Springs which kept  
In both her Eyes, she Bravely broached & wept.   

135.  
She weeped, and pitted her prevented Spice,  
Which now breathed short, and panting lay, to see  
It came too late to be a Sacrifice  
Unto the Lord of Sweets: She weeped that she  
Her Tears Drink-offring could present no more  
On his Feets blessed Altar, as before.   

136.  
Had she the plenitude of whatsoever  
Th' idolatrous World ' adores, she still would be  
Poorer than Poverty itself, whilst here  
She nothing findeth but Vacuity;  
The empty Tomb with open Mouth, alas,  
Tells her her only Gem removed was.   

137.  
Removed, and quite lost, for aught she knew:  
And how can Mary live without her Life!  
Such lamentable Mourning never slew  
The Turtles Joys in her disconsolate strife  
Of Love and Grief, when her dear Mate is lost;  
As this sad Storm of Weeping, Mary tossed.   

138.  
Thus having Weeped for what she saw; again  
She looked to read fresh cause of further Tears:  
But in the Tomb she spied new Splendour reign,  
Two Angels ready to outshine her Fears,  
And dry her Cheeks with Comfort, there did sit,  
One at the Monuments Head, one at the Feet,   

139.  
In festival Array they gorgeous were;  
Being clothed in Joys Colour, milky White:  
Woman, said They, what reason find you here  
To cloud your brows in this fair Scene of Light?  
Alas, cried she, what Light mine Eyes can cheer,  
Seeing my Lord is laid I know not where?   

140.  
Her Eyes here gushed a fresh, and back she turned  
To give their crowding Streams full Liberty;  
But Jesus Heart, which melted, as she mourned,  
And answered ever Tear by Sympathy,  
Could not endure her gentle Soul to see  
Suspended longer in this Agony.   

141.  
For back unto his Sepulchre he stepped,  
That his dear Weepens loyal Eyes might see  
Their earned Spectacle: And, Why she wept,  
Was his soft Question; but blubbered she  
Blinded with Grief, could not discover Who  
It was examined her about her Woe.   

142.  
She took Him for the Gardener of the place,  
And meekly prayed him if he had Removed  
The Body thence, to tell her where it was,  
That she might go and wait on her Beloved:  
And 'twas the Gardener, who did plant and dress  
The World in goodly Braveries excess.   

143.  
The Gardener who betimes a Weeding fell,  
Even in the virgin Spring of his Creation;  
Those rank encroaching Weeds which on heavens 〈◊〉  
Aspired to overgrow the new Plantation,  
Up by the roots he plucked in righteous ire  
And threw them thence into eternal Fire,   

144.  
The Gardener who at length deigned to come down  
Unto his Nursery in Earth's Valley, where  
All Tares and Poisonous 〈◊〉 that 〈◊〉 had sown  
He rooted up; and out of matchless care  
To make the Soil be fertile, every Bed  
With his own precious Blood he watered.   

145.  
The Gardener who contented was to let  
The Thorns upon his Temples rather stand,  
Than they should vex the Grafts which he had set  
In his own Body by his tender hand.  
The Gardener who indeed had born away  
What in the Tomb until this morning lay.   

146.  
But pitying magdalen's gloomy sorrow, He  
Whose single potent Word all Clouds can clear,  
In Love's mild tone, the only music she  
Could be delighted with, saluted her:  
Yet his salute was near as short as sweet,  
For only by her name He Her did greet.   

147.  
Marry, in Mary's ear no sooner sounded  
From Jesu's lips, but to her breast it flew,  
And with incomparable joy rebounded  
Upon her wakened heart: She straightway knew  
The blessed voice in her own Name, for this  
With sweet significance did echo his.   

148.  
She knew 'twas Jesus; and her heart must now  
Have split with swelling triumph had not she  
Unlocked it straight, and let it freely flow  
In a full torrent of high Piety.  
Her Life, her Love, her Heaven, when least she thought,  
Were all at once to her fruition brought.   

149.  
Surely a Breast so soft as hers, had by  
This sudden onset of all joys been broke,  
Had not her Lord with his own Potency  
Assisted Her to bear the mighty stroke.  
Master, she cried; but then could not go on;  
Her ecstafie her other words outran.   

150.  
Down flat she fell, and aimed at those feet  
Which pious she before did oint and kiss.  
No Haste, dear Mary, Jesus cried; for yet  
At ample distance my Ascension is;  
But go and tell my Brethren I intent  
Unto our common Father to ascend.   

151.  
At this injunction Marie needs must go,  
Who on the Angel's errand went before:  
And yet her loyal Heart could not do so,  
But still behind did linger, to adore  
Her lost-found Lord; whom that she ne'er again  
Might lose, Her Soul she to his feet did chain.   

152.  
This Message startled the Disciples; but  
The hubbub of the City moved them more;  
For by the Watchmen now the news had got  
Into the Town, and knocked at every door:  
The High-priests wakened at the summons call  
A Common Council, and to Plotting fall.   

153.  
Their Heads they beat, and bolted every way  
How they their now endangered fame might save,  
How they might damp the Resurrections day,  
And stop the open mouth of Jesu's Grave.  
Long did they think, but could no trick contrive  
How he who lived might not seem to live.   

154.  
For Belzebub who used to have his Place  
In all their Councils, tardy came that day;  
His new-received wound, and deep disgrace  
Upon his vanquished heart with terror lay:  
Yet seeing them so forwards, loath he was  
The Priests in his own trade should him surpass.   

155.  
He raised his head, and wiped off the gore,  
Three times he sighed, and three times he shook  
His broken horns; and at the last, he swore  
By his own might and realus, that though the stroke  
Took him at unawars, yet Jesus had  
How e'er he braved it out, no Conquest made.   

156.  
And, had he been, said he, a generous foe,  
He would have pitched the day, and pitched the field,  
With trumpets sound he would have marched unto  
The fight, and not his sly design concealed;  
He would have called Heaven and Earth to be  
Spectators of his noble Chivalry.   

157.  
But having told his fellow-thief, that he  
Would meet him straight in Paradise; by night  
He hither stole, and by base Burglary  
Broke open my doors: though we with open might  
In our brave battle gave him fairer play,  
Marching full in the face of Heaven and Day.   

158.  
Then finding that his chain would reach unto  
Jerusalem; Lo all my fiends, he cried,  
You by this token suddenly shall know  
How vain is all that Galileans pride;  
The foolish Carpenter forgot his trade  
When he this chain to bind great Satan made.   

159.  
This wretched Chain: which yet shall serve to be  
The Instrument of my Revenge, for I  
Will back to Salem, where my Victory  
Attends my Coming; Never credit my  
Cunning or Power, if I these Fetters lay  
Not on his Subjects, and draw home my Prey.   

160.  
His goodly Doctrine 'tis that they must take  
His Yoke upon their Necks; and for this once  
I care not if I take the pains to make  
Them learn their Lesson; that they may from hence  
Be well informed, whether I, or He  
Who said his Yoke was light, most Liar be.   

161.  
Hell cheered by its King's fresh courage, peeped  
Forth from its timorous holes, and took new Heart:  
When He, to make good his bold Boasting, leaped  
Up from his Den, and through the Earth did dart:  
But at his heels, besides his Tails long Train,  
He drew the longer Volumes of his Chain.   

162.  
Then clothed in unsuspitious Air, into  
The Sanhedrim he comes and takes his Seat  
Next to the plotting High-Priests elbow; who  
Straight felt his Brains with politic council beat.  
He little knew his Prompter was so neat,  
Nor heard Him when He whispered in his Ear,   

163.  
So well He liked the Plot he had conceived,  
That looking cheerly up, Grave Sirs said He,  
Think not that this Impostor has bereaved  
Us of all Council, but give ear to me;  
And if my Project fails, say Caiaphas  
Less Power in Policy than Jesus has.   

164.  
Are We the Men, and these our Brains, which have  
So tossed Him up and down; first to his Cross,  
Then out of Life, and then into his Grave?  
And should our wisdom now be at a Loss?  
Or should ignoble Nazaret able seem  
Even to outvie our learned Jerusalem?   

165.  
Full strange I grant, the Soldiers Story is,  
As in their staring Eyes, and startled hair  
Yourselves too evidently read: But this  
Doth only for our Policy prepare  
More noble matter, such as may befit  
The reverend Sanhedrims profoundest Wit.   

166.  
Indeed I hitherto believed that  
Magician's Power with themselves had died;  
But since this one Example tells Me what  
I never head from all the World beside;  
We must resolve eed it too rank be grown  
This Conjuration to conjure down.   

167.  
I tell you sirs, should We no medicine find  
To salve this soar, the Romans would deride  
That violent zeal in which we all combined  
To get this Galilean crucified;  
And Pilate would triumph in earnest that  
His hands he washed from this bloody 〈◊〉,   

168.  
Nay our own Bandogs too, the wid-mouthed Crew  
Whose shameless bawling brought about our plot,  
May turn their boisterous throats at us, who drew  
Them to that Rage: sure they will ne'er be got  
To serve us with another roar, unless  
We can maintain that they did well in this.   

169.  
My final Counsel therefore is, that We  
By Monies virtue try what may be done:  
Believe it, money's of that Potency  
That no miraculous operation  
Can counterveile it: You remember what  
Poor thirty silver pieces for us got.   

170.  
And if that silly sum so wrought upon  
His owu Disciples heart, judge you what may  
By twice, or thrice as much, or more, be done  
Upon this mercenary guard, since they  
Have no Relation nor no Reason why  
They should be tender to maintain a lis,   

171.  
I say A Lie; and if that scruple you,  
Remember 'tis the way in which We went,  
When Witness we suborned to overthrow  
Him whom ourselves knew to be Innocent.  
Our Purpose then aimed to assert our Law;  
And therefore good it was, and may be now.   

172.  
To you I speak who in our Sacred Writ  
Well versed are: You know what Abraham did,  
And Isaac too when Need required it,  
In Gerar's Court; what David when He fled  
To Nob and Gath: and if such Saints may Lie,  
Who dares that Privilege to Us deny.   

173.  
Fear not, sage Brethren, God himself allows  
This Dispensation; for otherwise  
He in requital had not built an House  
To shelter the Egyptian Midwives Lies.  
Indeed to th' People we preach Truth; for why,  
Dull Souls, they know not when 'tis fit to Lie.   

174.  
Since then the Soldiers Mouths no less are open  
Than Jesu's Grave, the surest Course will be  
With that thick Clay called Money, them to stop,  
This is the only Bung and Seal which we  
Can clap upon them: and you need not doubt  
That 〈◊〉 will ever through this dam burst out.   

175.  
Weol bid them say, and, if need urge them, swear,  
That whilst they with long Watching fell asleep  
His bold Disciples who in ambush were,  
Favoured by Night, unto the Tomb did creep,  
And taking thence their Master's Corpse by thest.  
His winding Clothes in craft behind them left.   

176.  
Our promise likewise they shall have, that we  
The businesse with the Governor fair will make,  
And from his wrath give them Security.  
It is but equity, that we should take  
Some pains in Forgery so to defend  
Those who do with their Lies our Cause befriend,   

177.  
When thus their lying Oracle had spoke,  
His Counsel highly pleased, and every one  
Into applause and acclamation broke  
In glad presumption that the Feat was done:  
In were the Soldiers called again, and told  
What they must do; & forthwith showed the Gold.   

178.  
As when the Fouler hath some Mirror set  
Whose gaudy lustre plays about the Air:  
The silly Birds regardless of the Net,  
Are suadenly enamoured of that fair  
But fataly insidious Bait, and fly  
With crurping joy to their Captivity:   

179.  
So by the Golds enchanting Splendour they  
So ravished were, that straignt they undertake  
Their cursed Task; and having had their Pay,  
Into the Streets with full-mouthed Lies they break,  
Railing, and banning the Disciples for  
Stenling their Master from his Sepulchre.   

180.  
'twas not a quarter of an hour, that we  
Borrowed to ease our heavy eyes; and yet  
So dextrous were they in their Thievery,  
They catched that very cue to compass it:  
Let All, they crsd, who long complete to be  
In Thieving, go to School in Galilee.   

181.  
The credulons Vulgar, without more ado,  
Snatched up this News, and spread it all abroad:  
And from that day this Lie did current go  
Amongst the Jews, who though unto their God  
The God of Truth, they would no Credit give,  
These hired liars readily believe.   

182.  
But as the timorous Disciples now  
Themselves had in a private Lodging hid,  
Their loving Master was resolved to show  
How tenderly he them remembered:  
In Galilee he promised to appear,  
But he cannot their Joy so long defer.   

183.  
An holy Pair he with his Company  
Had at Emmaus entertained to day;  
Where as he broke the Bread in pieces, he  
Tore from their clouded eyes the veil away;  
And with like favour now he hastes, to cheer  
His sad and thoughtful Friends assembled here.   

184.  
This very Even the Doors being made as fast  
As locks, and bars, and fear, could make them be;  
He whose pure Body through his Tomb had passed,  
Entered the House with like facility.  
They slandered were abroad for stealing Him:  
But now he seemed to steal at home on Them.   

185.  
Yet, as excessive unexpected Bliss  
Doth swallow up Belief in Ravishment:  
So the Disciples all amazed at this  
Strange Apparition, mutualy bend  
Then frighted eyes, and held their hands on high,  
Confounded in a silent ecstasy.   

186.  
But he, the King of Comfort, opened his sweet  
And gracious Lips, and Peace be to you, said:  
Though I in love prevent my Promise, yet  
You have no reason Friends, to be afraid;  
Lo It is I your Lord; observe these wide  
Tokens both in my Hands, and in my Side.   

187.  
Imagine not that you some Spirit see,  
These Mouths proclaim as much as I profess:  
You know a Spirit cannot wounded be,  
Nor wear such Marks of humane Passiveness:  
Come handle Me, and be assured well  
If not of what you see, of what you feel.   

188.  
This sweet Assurance was so full and clear,  
That it exceeded their Capacity,  
Who by its Torrent overwhelmed were,  
And thrown into admiring Joys soft Sea:  
Thus those who gaze on Phoebus, cannot see  
Him, for his too much visibility.   

189.  
So strange a Thing is Joy if unawares  
It be surprised by Fruition, that  
In fond amblguous Jealousy it bars  
Out what it does possess; and aiming at  
Some proofs of what is absolutely clear,  
Transfigureth itself from Joy to Fear.   

190.  
But Jesus their amazement to allay,  
Grows more familiar, and calls for Meat:  
A Fish and Honeycomb before him they  
Present, and friendly he vouchsafes to eat;  
Though Paradise its Sweets for him prepared,  
He this plain Diet with his Friends preferred.   

191.  
Then in kind Anger he to Chiding fell  
That they so long their Faith suspended, though  
He of his Resurrections Miracle  
Had by eyewitness sent them Proof enough:  
He Chode; but with such sweet and dainty Art,  
That every Wound he made, was with Loves Dart.   

192.  
This done; his Peace to them again he gave;  
That Peace he purehased, when he trampled down  
Hell into Hell, and Death into the Grave;  
When he appeased his mighty Fathers Frown;  
When Heaven and Earth, at enmity before,  
To blessed Amity he did restore.   

193.  
Then breathing on them with that noble Breath  
Which first inspired Life into Humane Heart;  
The dearest Gift, said he, that ever hath  
To Man been given, I to you impart;  
It is the holy Spirit of Heaven, which now  
With blessed heat shall in your Bosoms glow.   

194.  
Hencesorth, whose Sins soever you remit,  
By this great Patent, I myself Forgive;  
And whom you Bind to the infernal Pit,  
Shall from your Sentence purchase no Reprieve.  
As Me my Father sent, so send I you,  
To by my potent Deputies below.   

195.  
This said: into Invisibility  
Himself he shut, and so from them withdrew:  
When They, who now no longer him could see,  
On Joys and Loves, and Faith's Wings, after flew;  
Pouring ten thousand Blessings on his Name,  
Who with such Solace to their Sorrows came,   

196.  
But Thomas, who this while had absent been,  
Returning now; They met him at the Door,  
Shouting and telling him what they had seen;  
Each Circumstance they showed him o'er and o'er,  
Their Lords great Promises they did repeat,  
And how he showed his Wounds, and how he eat.   

197.  
Thomas amazed at their Relation, stood  
Silent a while, uncertain what to say,  
Or how he should repulse that swelling Flood  
Of most unanimous Confidence, which they  
Streamed forth upon his Incredulity:  
At last he stamped, and cried, It cannot be.   

198.  
I grant that Fancy may do much, and you  
Perhaps imagine all is true you say:  
But there's no reason my Belief should bow  
To your Imaginations: You may  
By probabilities persuade Me far;  
But no such thing can I discover here.   

199.  
I am not so much wiser now at night  
Than I was in the Morn, as to admit  
What then to your own judgement seemed so 〈◊〉,  
That you, as well as I, rejected it:  
Why must it real prove in you, which We  
In Magdalene so fantastic took to be?   

200.  
When with these Eyes those Wounds I have descried,  
And put my 〈◊〉 where the 〈◊〉 we 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
When I have thrust my Hand into his 〈◊〉,  
And felt that no Imposture there does grow:  
I of your mind may be: But mean time give  
Me leave not at a venture to Believe.   

201.  
(Thus Heaven in Wisdom and in Love, thought fit  
To let thick Clouds of Doubt objected be  
Before the Resurrections Truth, that it  
Might fairer break from that Obscurity,  
And pierce all faithless Hearts obdurate Stone  
As it the Marble of the Tembe had done.)   

202.  
Resolved in this imprudent Prudence, he  
Eight Days continued; when their Lord again  
The doors being bolted close, as formerly,  
To his Disciples did his Presence deign;  
Whose sprightful Coming though it startled them,  
Less strange and doubtful than at first did seem.   

203.  
But Thomas, unto whom the Sight was new,  
Afflicted stood with quaking Joy and Fear;  
His Masters blessed Looks he plainly knew,  
And yet his Fancies something dubious were;  
He blushed, and then grew pale, and blushed again  
And to cross Passions gave at once the rain.   

204.  
When Jesus saw him tortured on this Rack,  
With gracious gentleness, Come near, he said,  
And thine own Satisfaction freely take;  
Lo here my Wounds before thine Eyes displayed,  
Come pierce thou them again; 'twill be less grief,  
Than to be wounded by thine Unbelief.   

205.  
This Condescend so conquered Thoma's heart,  
That with complete Assurance, on his knees  
He falls, and cries, My God and Lord Thou art:  
Not only by these wide-mouthed Witnesses  
I find thee so to be, but also by  
The heavenly Sweetness of thy Lenity,   

206.  
I find that thou eight days ago wert here,  
When foolish I so faithlesly was Wise;  
Thou heardst how obstinately I did dare  
The pregnant Witness of my Fellows eyes,  
Thou heardst what bold Conditions I set,  
Before my Faith their Story would admit.   

207.  
O I believe, dear Lord, and ready am  
If need require, such Wounds as those to bear  
In spreading forth the glories of thy Name  
To any Nations, whether far or near.  
Pardon my tardy Faith; it doth suffice  
That I have felt those Tokens with mine eye.   

208.  
Jesus replied: Thou buildest thy Faith upon  
Thine eyes, (and happy 'tis that thou dost so:  
But in how full a Stream shall Blessings run  
Into their soft and pliant Bosoms, who  
Ne'er saw these deep-writ Characters, and yet  
Unto the Credit of their Truth submit!   

209.  
Here Jesus stepped into his Secrisie  
And vanished from their wondering sight; but yet  
He sundry times returned to their eye  
As his divinely-wisest self thought fit:  
Famous his presence was on Tabor, where  
He to five hundred did at once appear   

210.  
Yet not transfigured, as before; for now  
His proper Shape was radiant Majesty:  
For from all Mortal Dross refined, you know  
Out of his Tomb he sprang, no more to be  
By any Cloud bedimmed, nor had he need  
That Heaven should open its Mouth his Worth to spread.   

211.  
This was that solemn Apparition he  
On Easter Morn by Mary promised,  
That the appointed Scene might ready be  
With plenty of Spectators furnished:  
And so it was, for his Disciples thither  
Had gathered all their trusty Friends together.   

212.  
When lo their Hopes they met upon the Mount,  
And more than their Ambition too; for now  
Jesus set open his Lips, and let the Fount,  
The blessed Fount of potent Sweetness flow,  
Which in the Channel of these Words upon  
The Heads and Hearts of his Disciples ran.   

213.  
The Nerves and Sinews of all Power and Might  
Which spread through Heaven and Earth so far and wide  
Here in this single Hand of mine unite,  
And to my royal Will alone are tied;  
By virtue of which Sovereignty, I  
Commit to you complete Authority.   

214.  
Go take your Charge; whose Limits here I make  
Coequal with the Worlds: My Gospel preach  
To every living Soul, for whose dear sake  
I on the bitter Cross myself did stretch,  
That in as large a Circle as the Sun  
The more illustrious Beams of Grace may run.   

215.  
He who despiseth your great News, and You,  
Shall do it at his own Souls price, for he  
Shall find his slaming Punishment below  
In Desperations Eternity:  
But he who to your faith his own doth give,  
As long's that other Dying is, shall live.   

216.  
Nor shall his Glory only future be;  
Miraculous Power shall on him attend,  
Upon the stoutest boldest Devils he  
Shall invocate my Name, and make them bend;  
From mortal Bosoms he shall them expel,  
And source them howling home unto their Hell.   

217.  
Babel's Confusion shall not him confound,  
But every Language on his Tongue shall dwell,  
That He my Gospel freely may resound,  
And every Ear with its Salvation fill;  
I who did it create, as easily can  
With Words, as Meat, supply the Mouth of Man.   

218.  
In vain shall Scorpions bite him, and in vain  
Shall Adders sting him; by my power he  
Over all Serpents shall as surely gain  
As over Hell's foul Dragon, victory;  
For those mysterious stings I did endure  
Shall from their dint and danger Him secure,   

219.  
In vain shall Poison steal into his Cup,  
And thence into his Bowels slide; for he  
Although he should drink all Thessalia up;  
Or Sodoms Lake, shall not invenomed be:  
That Cup which on my Cross I drank, shall make  
Wholesome to him all Draughts that he can take.   

220.  
More Virtue than in Trees and Plants doth grow;  
Much more than Balsam, in his hand shall dwell;  
Those whom incurable Diseases throw  
Upon their desperate Beds, shall strait grow well  
If touched by Him whose faith on Me relies,  
The grand Physician of all Maladies.   

221.  
But his Initiation must be  
By being washed in the potent Name  
Of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, that he  
May know at whose sole Honour he must 〈◊〉,  
Remembering he by Baptism unto 〈◊〉  
Was consecrated, but the Triple On.   

222.  
So spoke the mighty Lord: and then again  
Withdrew himself, that they might feed upon  
These heavenly Privileges he did deign  
To earth, by faithful Meditation;  
He knew his Presence was right dear, and yet  
He by Withdrawing more endeared it.   

223.  
But now the signal Time was come, when He  
Who cheered the Earth for forty days with his  
Bright Apparitions, meant that Heaven should be  
Embellished with his glorious Access,  
That he might, as Himself he raised hither,  
So also reach his Resurrection thither.   

224.  
His dear Companions now again he met,  
(So dear, that loath he seemed with them to part,)  
And walking Them along to Olivet,  
Spungius out the Time by Love's discursive art:  
But on the Mountain's Top arrived, he  
Began in Tone and Aspect changed 〈◊〉 be.   

225.  
Stir not, said he, from Salem, but attend  
The Fathers Promise you have heard of Me,  
It was a Baptism which doth far transcend  
John's poor and frigid institution; He  
Baptised with Water, but your Baptism shall  
In heavens sweet Spirit of Fire immerge you all.   

226.  
Erected at this solemn Item, they  
No less than Crowns and Sceptres fancied:  
Yet still their Thoughts below the Promise lay,  
Hankering in Earth's dull sphere, for nothing did  
They reach, but what too worthless was for Him  
Their great Ascendent Lord to leave to them.   

227.  
We know, said they, that 〈◊〉 Crown is 〈◊〉  
Unto thine only Head, most fit for it:  
Is this the Time dear Lord, that thou wilt show  
And make thy Title good? Shall we now 〈◊〉  
On our inferior Thrones before thy Feet,  
And to the Tribes of 〈◊〉 Judgement 〈◊〉   

228.  
Thus when wise 〈◊〉 along 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
They to 〈…〉,  
And for their Maint nance 〈…〉:  
But the 〈◊〉- 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 tall to 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 silly 〈…〉  
〈◊〉 delight, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

229.  
Jesus, who at his Parting could not Chide,  
This secular Grossness of their Thoughts passed by,  
And with all delicate Gentleness replied,  
Those Times and Seasons which enshrined lie  
In Gods own Cabinet, too mystic be  
For you to dive into their privacy.   

230.  
Yet though this Mystery you may not know,  
Ten thousand others you shall clearly see,  
When the eternal Spirits Power shall flew  
Down on your Heads: Your Glory then shall be  
To go as Heralds, and my royal Name  
Through every Quarter of my World proclaim.   

231.  
Hast Thou not seen the glittering Spark Ascend  
With natural Lightness to its proper Sphere?  
So glorious Jesus, having made an end  
Of all his sweet and blessed business here,  
Upon the Wings of his own Purity  
Lifted himself up to his Native Sky.   

232.  
They started at the sight, and with their Eyes  
And Heads, and Hands, all elevated high,  
Laboured to trace his Path, and to arise  
After their to wring Master, who did fly  
A way with all their Hearts: when lo a Cloud  
Between their Ecstasy and Him did crowd.   

233.  
It crowded on apace, for fear to miss  
That honour which would make it fairer be,  
And dressed with more celestial Stateliness:  
Than the brisk Forehead of Serenity:  
So fast it crowded, that the tired Wind  
Which would have born it, puffing came behind.   

234.  
All other Clouds which its Prerogative saw,  
Grew black with Grief, and melted into Tears:  
When lo the Welkin clears her dainty brow,  
And smiling Duy with open eyes prepares  
Her Admiration to gaze upon  
The Motion of a fairer sweeter Sun.   

235.  
This happy Cloud her delicate shoulders bend  
And meekly stooped to her Maker's Feet;  
Her pliant Volumes gathered close, and went  
Into the fashion of a Princely Seat,  
That in a seemly Chariot Jesus might  
Unto his Throne take his Triumphant Flight.   

236.  
The golden Coach, studded with eastern Gems,  
And burnished with living Fire, wherein  
Great Phoebus in his brightest glory swims  
Through heavens high Channel, never yet could win,  
Such credit as this noble Chariot, which  
Gods own enshrined Beauties here, enrich.   

237.  
At the shrill whistle of each busy Wind  
All other Clouds in this inferior sky.  
Are fain to run about: But this doth find  
An undisturbed passage fair and high,  
And straight to heavens illustrious Roof doth haste  
Without the helping Wheels of any Blast.   

238.  
Earth was in debt unto those Clouds, till now,  
Which open d heavens pantry, and reigned Manna down;  
But this, full Payment doth to Heaven allow,  
Whilst to the Angels it bears home their own  
Diviner Bread, and by restoring more  
Than Earth received, doth nobly quit the Score.   

239.  
That Israel-conducting Cloud which through  
The tedious Wilderness of old did take  
So patient a Pilgrimage, must bow  
Its famous head to This: That did but make  
Way to the earthly Canaan, but this  
Unto the Heavenly the brave Convoy is.   

240.  
As Jesus thus soared through the Air, he saw  
The Treasuries of every kind of Weather,  
Of fair, of foul, of Rain, of Hail, of Snow,  
Which did their homage unto Him as thither  
His Coach arrived: He bade Them gently fall  
Upon his Earth, and then He blessed them all.   

241.  
So did He too that sweet and loyal Choir  
Of Larks, which with applauding Songs and Wings  
In delicate attendance did aspire  
After his mounting Train: Go gentle Things  
Said He, and rest your weary pinions, I  
My other Choristers approaching spy.   

242.  
Lo, at the Word, the Winged Legions, who  
Flutter about the everlasting Sphere,  
And on the great Creator's business go  
Throughout the World; appeared hover there:  
Great was their number; and their Glory great,  
If they with Jesu's Lustre had not met.   

243.  
Before his Feet their graceful Heads they bow,  
〈◊〉 down with sweet Extremities of Joy  
That they without a Veils Assistance now  
On his dear Eyes may look, which till to day  
Lay hid to them in too much light; but here  
Dressed in Humane Mitigation were.   

244.  
For though some of our Choir had long before  
Enjoyed the blessed Privilege to see  
His the anthropick face; though All did pour  
Their high Applause on his Nativity;  
This was the time when Heavns Whole Host to fair  
And plenall view of Him advanced were.   

245.  
A dainty and long-studied Song They had  
Composed, and tuned to a ge ntle Key;  
But this excessive Sight of Sweetness made  
Their Acclamations correspondent be;  
Their Wings and Hands aloud they clapped, and rend  
With louder Paeans all the Element.   

246.  
But seeing then his bright Retinue, who  
About Him shined like his reflected Rays;  
They to their new Acquaintance smiling go,  
And in their faces read their Sovereign's Praise;  
For Gratitude had deep imprinted there  
Their glorious Redemptions Character.   

247.  
These were those holy Souls, who long had lain  
On the soft Pillows of great Abraham's breast,  
Looking and longing when their Lord, would deign  
To bring them to his sweeter nobler Rest;  
To chase their Mists and Shades with his own Ray  
And turn their doubtful Dawn to Highnoon Day.   

248.  
Great Abraham himself was there with them,  
And shined with a choice and leading Grace;  
The Patriarches, and Prophets next to Him,  
Each in their proper Dignity and Place;  
Then every pious Man, and Woman, who  
Ventured in his hard Steps on earth to go.   

249.  
Their Charges many Guardian Angels saw,  
And highly triumphed to behold them there.  
So, when the Ship which long hath laboured through  
The Seas proud Wrath, unto the haven draws near,  
The Pilots Eyes and Heart with Joy are filled  
No less than with the Wind the Sails are swelled.   

250.  
But all the Choir, beheld the blessed Supply  
Of their own Companies, which robbed were  
Of no small Part of their Fraternity  
When sullen Pride upon heavens face made war,  
And many Empyraean 〈◊〉 fell  
From their fair Day, into the Night of Hell.   

251.  
But o what Torrents of divine Delight  
Through these Saints Bosoms ran with full Career,  
To see how near of kin unto the bright  
And new apparent King of Heaven they were;  
They envy not the Angels radiant Dresses,  
Nor wish their silver Wings, or golden Tresses.   

252.  
And that their Triumph might be sweetened by  
Harmonious Joy, before the Masculine Troop  
David did with his learned Fingers fly  
About his Harp, and beat those Accents up  
Which with her Timbrel Miriam before  
The Female Squadrons did to him restore.   

253.  
But Jesus now to his officious Cloud  
Dismission gave; ambitious of whose Place  
A Knot of gallant Seraphs came and bowed  
Their youthful Shoulders, that their Lord might pass  
To Heaven upon the best of Heaven, and be  
Drawn to his Palace in due Majesty.   

254.  
Then Michael taking up the Standard, which  
With the Heartblood of Death and Hell was red  
And charged with the glorious Cross, did stretch  
It towards Heaven, and forward fluttered.  
In this Array the Triumph marched on.  
Abashing Day, and dazzelling the Sun.   

255.  
Thus He who lately that Procession went  
Where Spite, and Shame, and Scorn did Him attend,  
When He through Salems' Steeets was kicked and rend,  
And through a thousand Deaths led to his End,  
Is now tequited by a March, whose Glory  
Gilds the Disgraces of his Passions Story.   

256.  
As to the Confines of the Spheres they drew,  
David his Harp and Throat did strain 〈◊〉 high  
That ancient Song of Glory to renew  
Which He had in Prophetik ecstasy  
Tuned to a special and illustrious Lay,  
And sung aforehand to this noble Day.   

257.  
Bright and eternal gates of heaven, lift up  
Your cheerly Heads and know your 〈◊〉  
As mine is now, so let your mouths be open  
To entertain our universal joy:  
It is the King of glory, who doth come,  
That, and the sweeter heaven now to bring home.   

258.  
It is the King of War whose matchless strength  
Hath trodden down our and your fell enemy;  
Read but his Banner, where are writ at length  
The ruby tokens of his victory;  
Open, open, as wides your Heaven can give you leave,  
And Him much greater 〈◊〉 all it, receive   

259.  
The Crystal doors no sooner heard the song.  
But in obedience, they echoed it;  
Their everlasting bars aside they flung,  
And their resplendent 〈◊〉 open set;  
Straight through the mighty gap a flood of gold  
Soft as the locks of 〈◊〉 downward rolled.   

260.  
With that, the Music of the spheres burst out;  
High were the strains, and delicate the lays;  
And though a while sweet David's fingers fought,  
His mortal strings to them He could not raise;  
My harp must yield, He cried, but yet my heart  
Shall in your loftiest accents bear her 〈◊〉.   

261.  
Indeed those airs are so refined, and high,  
Only the Hearts spiritual strings can stretch  
To the full compass of their Harmony;  
To whose pure chords, those Compositions which  
You with the Name of Music honour here,  
Are only learned gratings of the ear.   

262.  
Thus to the silver Orbs they came: When lo  
The Stars all tripped about, and danced for joy;  
And as the Triumph through the sphere did go,  
Phoebus unto his Lord resigned the day;  
His brighter Lord, from whose original beam  
He takes his light, as all the stars from him.   

263.  
But yet these beauteous stages only were  
The fairly paved way and 〈◊〉 which see  
Unto that rairer larger Palace where  
Dwells light, and life, and bliss, and Heaven indeed  
And therefore Jesus through these made haste,  
And only blessed, and gilded them as he 〈◊〉.   

264.  
When to the 〈◊〉 of the 〈◊〉 He  
Was now arrived, and saw the world below:  
The gate of Sovereign 〈◊〉  
Before its King itself did open throw:  
Of 〈◊〉 glories strait appeared a 〈◊〉  
〈…〉 but pure 〈◊〉   

265.  
What joys, what smiles. what ravishments were here,  
What delicate extremities of pleasures!  
Injurious the unworthy Parallel were,  
By 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 if we should measure  
These 〈◊〉 sweets, of whose 〈◊〉  
All 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 not the 〈◊〉 is.   

266.  
For never did the sharpest-pointed eye  
Or of the body, or the Soul of Man.  
Such 〈◊〉 of pure delight descry  
As all about these splendid Regions ran.  
Chanting those 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 no mortal 〈◊〉  
Hath 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to heat.   

267.  
Into these vast Expansions as He went,  
Lo his Almighty Father came to meet him;  
O Psyche hadst thou seen that Compliment  
Of supreme joy, with which he there did greet him,  
The Spectacle for ever Thee had blest,  
And with 〈◊〉 heaven replenished thy breast.   

268.  
Unfathomable streams of 〈◊〉  
Attended on him and bore up his train  
A flood of most excessive gratulation  
Before him rolled: But o how sovereign  
Was that infinitude of complacence  
Which broke from his own eyes exuberance   

269.  
On his Son's neck his radiant arms He threw  
And sealed his lips with an enamoured kiss:  
His noble Bosom then wide open flew,  
(That home and Centre of eternal bliss;)  
To bid him welcome to that dearest bed  
In which or old he us 〈◊〉 to rest his head   

270.  
Come, Come, said he, no more to part from hence  
My hignest will thou hast completely done  
And by perfection of obedience  
Bravely approved thyself mine only 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 shall entertain thee, and  
For thy ocat sake, those who about this 〈◊〉   

271.  
Hence forth I can look on my world below  
With comfort, which till now displeased mine eye;  
For all its blots, and stains, and horrors, thou  
Hast nobly turned into purity;  
It shineth now, washed by the liberal 'slud  
Of thine illustrinus all-cleansing blood.   

272.  
I see thy wounds; and I beheld the shame  
With which they were engrav'don thee; but now  
With never-dying lustre they shall flame,  
〈◊〉 on their gravers one day terror throw,  
When guilty they again shall see these scars  
〈◊〉 purchased'st in Loves and Mercies wars.   

273.  
So spoke the Father: when the holy-Ghost,  
Who hand in hand along with him was come,  
Renewed his applauding joy, by most  
Mysterious emanations, which from  
The string of living bliss. his dainty breast,  
In 〈◊〉 Plenitude of sweetness pressed.   

274.  
Thus in the face of heavens returns Son  
He breathed a precious aromatic stream;  
The surplusage of which effusion  
Filled, and ennobled all the hearts of them  
Whom he in triumph thither brought, to be  
For ever Captives to felicity.   

275.  
This salutation done: heavens trumpets sounded,  
Whose gallant noise, with equal Majesty  
That Hill of all sublimity rebounded;  
To which in goodly equipage did fly  
This reyal Company & straight got up  
Unto Beatitudes, and Glories Top.   

276.  
Three radiant Chairs of awful beauty there  
Stand founded fast upon Eternity;  
Which with such mystic art united are,  
That 'tis entirely one, as well as three;  
Three equal and distinguished seats, yet one  
Essential and everlasting throne.   

277.  
Down in the midst the Father sat, and on  
His lefthand his all-quickning Spirit; but  
He at his right enthroned his mighty Son,  
And an eternal wreath of glories put  
Upon his Temples to requite those Scorns,  
And Pains, they here bore with their Crown of 〈◊〉.   

278.  
The ignominy of his feeble Reed  
With Dignities excess to recompense,  
Into his right hand He delivered  
A Sceptre made all of Omnipotence;  
And then erected just before his face,  
His fairer Cross, upon a diamond Base.   

279.  
As Jesus thus sat upon Triumphs Crown,  
The Peers of that illustrious Kingdom came,  
And at his feet their Coronets threw down  
In loyal homage, and themselves, with them,  
Begging his leave that their unworthy tongues  
Might with his royal name enrich their Songs,   

280.  
Forthwith, an Anthem of ecstatick praise  
Broke from their lips, and on heavens Roof did beat;  
This brave example moved the Saints to raise  
Their highest tunes, and mingle in that sweet  
Deluge of triumphs, their applauses, which  
Must flow as far's Eternity can reach.   

281.  
But the Disciples, Psyche, all this while  
Followed Him with their eyes, and grieved were  
To see the interposing Cloud beguile  
Them of their Bliss: yet could they not forbear  
Their Gazing still, in hopes their Sun might break  
This Veil at length, and they free prospect take.   

282.  
When lo, two Angels all in snow arrayed,  
A courteous Check unto their error, gave;  
Ye Galileans, why is it, they said,  
Your ignorant hopes stand gazing thus to have  
A sight of him, now mounted higher far  
Above the cloud, than you beneath it are?   

283.  
He on his Heavenly throne is see, and you  
Must wait till He is pleased thence to rise;  
For time will come when he again will show  
To yours, and all the worlds, his blessed eyes;  
And as from hence He did his journey take,  
So, on the Shoulders of a cloud ride back.   

284.  
This said: the 〈◊〉 posted home to share  
In the new Festival above; And they  
Convineed by that Item, ready were  
Back to Jerusalem to take their way,  
But as their eyes returned to the ground,  
The final Footsteps of their Lord they found.   

285.  
And so mayst Thou, my Psyche, still, for lo,  
The precious Characters do here remain;  
The trusty Earth would never let them go,  
Nor did desire to smooth her face again,  
Which by these Prints was so embellished that  
Herself to be the World's Base she forgot.   

286.  
These dear Impressions the Disciples kissed,  
And took their leave, and so to Salem went;  
Full little thinking that the simple Dust  
In keeping them would prove so Diligent,  
That neither Winds nor Storms could them deface,  
Nor pious Pilgrims bear them from this place.   

287.  
A Thousand zealous Hands themselves have filled  
With this most privileged Earth, and held it more  
Precious than all the golden Sand which swelled  
The fame of Gange's or of Indus shore;  
Yet still the faithful Dust with nimble Care  
Supplied and kept entire each Character   

288.  
Nay when the Time shall come, as come it will,  
When Christian Piety shall courage take  
And build a Temple on this sacred Hill;  
These footsteps of their Worth full proof shall make;  
Refusing to let go the Honour they  
Were sealed with upon Ascension Day.   

289.  
They back into the Workmen's face will throw  
All his intrenthing stones, as oft as He  
A Pavement labours over them to draw,  
And injure with his Earthly decency  
Their heavenly Beauty; which He would disgrace,  
Though He with Pearls and Gems should court the place.   

290.  
Nor shall He with his Roof hope to forbid  
Their Prospect up ward, whether He is gone  
Who stamped them here; their Eyes will know no Lid,  
But make the Beams recoil, the Rafters run  
Aside and suffer no Concameration  
To dam the way of Jesu's Exaltation.   

291.  
Thus Psyche, have I made thee trace thy Lord  
To his last footsteps through a thousand ways  
All set with Mercy, and made good my Word.  
Thou seest how He a countermure doth raise  
Against Sins Battery, and thou needst not fear  
Hell's Spite, now Heaven for thee doth take such care   

392.  
Nor durst I doubt, but thine own Heart will say  
This thy long Pilgrimage is well requited,  
Which hath presented thee a full Display  
Of that wherewith all Angels are delighted;  
Whose Souls then with sublimest Joy do leap  
When on these Mysteries of Love they peep.   

293.  
Their Harness here upon his Steeds he threw,  
Who all this while were feeding on the Hill:  
The meaning of that warning Psyche knew,  
And on her knee, prayed him to tarry, till  
She gave the Reins to her Devotion,  
As other Pilgrims unto theirs had done.   

294.  
He smiled and stayed, But She, flat on her face  
Innumerable Kisses heaped upon  
The venerable Steps; and long it was  
Before her amorous Sighs and Tears had done:  
At length, her Bosom with the Dust she filled,  
And cried. Go thou, and my foul Body gild.   

295.  
Then casting up to Heaven her zealous Eye,  
After her Spouse a thousand Thoughts she sent,  
To whom her panting Soul strove hard to fly  
Upon the Wings of her high Ravishment.  
But when she felt herself stick still to Earth,  
Fresh Tears at first, and then these Words broke forth.   

296.  
Why may my Heart not be, where most it is,  
O Thou my dearest Life! o Jesus, why  
Since Thou art mounted to the Top of Bliss,  
And leav'st Me Dead, have I not leave to Die?  
Never was any Ghost, but I, till now,  
In its own Body bound, and chained below.   

297.  
I by thy Cross and Death was wholly slain;  
And by thy Resurrections Life I grew  
Alive, and safe, and vigorous again:  
But thy Ascension doth my Death renew,  
Since nothing of my Life poor I can find  
But these bare footsteps left Me here behind.   

298.  
Sweet Lord, by these thy Psyche cannot live,  
Though for thy Sake, they precious are to Me:  
O no! their Worth doth but more reason give  
To long for most inestimable Thee.  
If any footstepp Me can satisfy,  
It must be that which next thy foot doth lie.   

299.  
Hast Thou not said, that Earth thy Footstool is,  
As well as Heaven thy Throne? O mighty Lord,  
'T will be thy Handmaids' most accomplish d Bliss  
If thou but unto Me make'st good that Word;  
Lo I thy Dust, the Footstool crave to be  
Of thy now Heav'n-enthroned Majesty.   

300.  
High my Petition is, and bold, I know;  
And yet the worthless Dew must needs aspire  
To Heaven itself, when once it, 'gins to glow  
With Phoebu's sweet, and most attracting Fire;  
Nor can the Spark in its dull Ashes lie,  
But must have leave to venture at the Sky.   

301.  
Alas, what is this weary World to Me?  
What are the silver Spheres and golden Sun?  
Could I reign Queen of every Thing I see,  
At my sole Nod would all Earth's Kindred's ran;  
What were this Empire worth, now Thou art gone,  
Whom Psyche must esteem her Crown alone?   

302.  
'Tis not thy heavenly Paradise, that I  
Ambitious am to see; 'tis not thy Court  
Of Angels, though by Phylax's company  
I guess their Worth; 'tis not the Pomp and Port  
That flows about thy throne; Nor do I long  
To dance unto thy Quires eternal Song.   

303.  
My Heart doth pant for Thee, and only Thee;  
And, couldst Thou be in Hell, I never more  
Would lose a Looking up to Heaven, but be  
Enamoured of that Abyss, and pour  
My Longings, and my Labours downward, till  
I at thy Feet my Vows and Soul could spill.   

304.  
O why art Thou so infinitely sweet!  
Or rather, Why must We that Sweetness know,  
If Thou, dear Jesus, dost not think it meet  
Unto our Fires their 〈◊〉 to allow?  
Away Thou fliest, and Forsaken We  
Even by thy sweets and Bliss tormented be.   

305.  
How can I help this my excessive Passion,  
Or how can it deserve these Torments? Since,  
Thine own Love doth profess Immoderation  
And guilty is of boundless influence:  
In which soft Sea of Fire whilst drowned I am,  
What can I do but burn with answering Flame.   

306.  
Blame Me not, blessed Lord; it is not I,  
But Thou thyself rebounding from my Heart,  
Who beatest Heaven with this Importunity,  
And call'st for Ease for my mysterious Smart:  
Hadst Thou by Love not stampd thyself upon  
My Soul, now Psyche had let Thee alone.   

307.  
Remembet Jesus, what it is to be  
Forsaken; o remember thine own Cry  
When in thy Desolation on the Tree  
Thy Father Thou didst challenge: May not I  
Use thine own Words? My God, my God, why now  
Dost Thou thy desolate Psyche leave below?   

308.  
Upon this Olivet my Calvary  
I find, and to my Cross am nailed here:  
Ten thousand Torments in my Bosom lie,  
And full as many Thorns as planted were  
Upon thy Temples, in my Heart do stick,  
Where all the Bowels of my Soul they prick.   

309.  
O Love! why must thine only Tyranny  
The Bounds of other Cruelties exceed?  
Why will it not allow the Courtesy  
Of Death, unto thy Vassals, who are Dead  
By its reviving Slaughters, and desire  
To be free Holocausts in thy sweet Fire?   

310.  
Her Passion here beyond expression grew:  
Yet though She with her Tongue no more could speak;  
With her resolved Eyes to Heaven she flew,  
And there a long Oration did make;  
Both long, and fluent, in th' exuberance  
Of Tears, the streams of strongest Eloquence.   

311.  
But Phylux having to Her tender Heart  
Thus far indulged, thought fit to stop Her here  
Psyche, said He, imagine not Thou art  
Enamoured more than the Disciples were  
Of thy Ascended Lord: yet desolate They  
Warned by the 〈◊〉, meekly went away,   

312.  
I in their room, that Warning give to Thee:  
On Heaven why dost Thou nail thine eyes in vain?  
Thy Saviour is too high for Thee to see,  
Till on a Cloud He posteth back again:  
Then shalt Thou look thy Fill of Bliss, and be  
To all thy Love's Extremities let free.   

313.  
Mean while thine Adorations and Embraces  
On his dear Name and Memory thou mayst pour.  
Come le's away, that by these signal places  
Of Mercies Triumphs, thy soft Heart no more  
May tortured be. Here on her hand he laid  
His own, and raised up the heavy Maid.   

114.  
Then in his Chariot gently, Her he set,  
Who on the Footsteps kept her hankering eye;  
But instantly he moved his reins, to let  
His Coursers know he gave them liberty;  
Forth with, their goodly mains, in answer, They  
Shook in proud haste, and galloped away.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XV. The Poison.  
ARGUMENT.  

LEaving his Psyche, careful Phylax arms  
With whole some sage Advice her tender breast;  
Yet she the Venom of Heretic Charms,  
And Spurious Reason's wiles could not resist.  
Phylax returns, and in his Pupils eye  
Rakes up the nasty sink of Heresy.   

1.  
ANd sits the Holy-land so dear and high  
In pious Souls esteem? What tongue can then  
Thunder sufficient Vengeance out, and cry  
Against the lazy Baseness of those Men  
With equal Indignation, who have let  
Vile Pagan Powers from Christians ravish it.   

2.  
Could this prodigious shame endured be  
By Roman hearts, when on their Empires thront  
No other Prince was culminant but He  
Whom all the best of Bays attended on,  
Who like a bank against the torrent stood,  
And turned the Giant into Sarus flood.   

3.  
Who with his own Hand sent Razates down  
To his eternal Night: who from the brow  
Of stern Cosrhoes shaked off his Crown,  
Before Syrhoes cancelled ' Natures law,  
That He with vengeance might concur, and by  
Dire Parricide make the Tyrant double die.   

4.  
Who wiped the Romans ignominy out  
When He three hundred Eagles, which had long  
Been mewed up in Persian Cages, brought  
In triumph back, and bade them fly among  
Their fellow-ensignes, and as freely gaze  
As any of the brood, on Phoebu's face.   

5.  
Who not these Banners only did redeem,  
But the great Standard of Religion too;  
Which was so precious in his esteem,  
That he himself its Porter turned; and so  
Made all his Empire stoop to that which he  
Upon his Shoulders bore to Calvarie.   

6.  
Alas, Heraclius, how has Heresy  
Attcheived what all Persia could not do!  
How has it made thine Eagles Pinions be  
Only of use to fly before thy Foe!  
Whilst one of Christ's great Wills Thou tak'st away,  
How canst Thou hope thine own Thou shalt enjoy!   

7.  
Lo, the new Monster Mahomet's bold Fry  
Like numerous Locusts from the Pit of Night,  
Crawl into Palestine, and there defy  
The blasted Powers of the Monothelite:  
Lo, they are to the Holy City come,  
And Haumar robs him of his Saviour's Tomb.   

8.  
This raised in reverend Sophroniu's Breast  
A mighty Storm of Agonies, to see  
His venerable Salem now possessed  
By Saracenical Impiety;  
And James his sacred Seat become the Throne  
For cursed Apostasy to reign upon.   

9  
He sighed and weeped, and finding no Relief  
From Heaven or Earth for his loud Lamentation,  
Resigned himself unto victorious Grief,  
And drowned in his own Tears, fulfilled his Passion;  
For why should I live longer here, said he,  
Still to be slain by what mine Eyes must see!   

10.  
And now the Land of Milk and Honey lay  
For more than four full Ages overflown  
With Mahumetick Poison; till a Ray  
Of vigorous Christian Gallantry shot down  
From Heaven, and by the Ermite Peter's breath  
Blown to a Bonfire, flam'd with holy Wrath.   

11.  
With holy Wrath it flam'd in many a Breast,  
But most in brave Bolonion Godfrey's, who  
In Steel, and stronger Resolution dressed  
Burnt with Desire to meet his Pagan Foe:  
His Lorain can no longer hold him, he  
Resolves another kind of Duke to be.   

12.  
His Consecrated Legions he leads,  
And in their Eyes their Quarrel doth display;  
Above their Heads the bloody Cross he spreads  
Which streamed in his awful Standard: They  
Smiled at its goodly Look, and cried We  
Though in thy tincture, ne'er will shrink from Thee,   

13.  
The Turkish Moon grew paler than before,  
And in a cowardly Eclipse shrunk back,  
When this bright Banner did its, Terror pour  
Upon her face, and open passage make  
To Victory; for she was always there,  
And failed not to bring up Godfrey's Rear,   

14.  
Thus lesser Asia from the Turkish Lore  
To Christ's more gentle Yoke reduced is;  
And there is nothing now but Salem more  
For Godfrey's Sword to free from its Distress:  
Thither he marched, and soon Redeemed the Place  
Where the whole World's Redemption acted was.   

15.  
Right Christian Hero, o how due to thee  
Was sacred Salems' Crown, and more than that  
How justly hath thy pious Victory  
Both Martial, and Poetic Laurel got,  
Whilst thy illustrious Name and Glory reigns  
In the World's Wonder, and great Tasso's strains   

16.  
But when by Death Heaven sent for Godfrey home;  
Baldwin his Brother, both in Piety  
And Christian Valour, took his royal Room:  
Sidon and Ptolemais felt what he  
And his brave Troops in a just Cause could do;  
And so did Egypt's mighty Caliph too,   

17.  
He to his Cousin Baldwin left his Throne  
And his entailed Gallantry with it;  
Witness the routed Turk's Confusion,  
And Antioch, which did to his Might submit:  
And though a while he to the Persian bowed.  
Upon Damascus King his strength he showed.   

18.  
Then from his Turine Earldom Fulco role  
To sway this Sceptre; who transmitted it  
Unto his Son, young Baldwin; over whose  
Surprised Powers, stern Noradine did set  
His insolent foot; but soon it ssipped, and he  
Perforce restored his stolen Victory.   

19  
His Death, his Brother Almerik did raise  
Unto his Throne; a Prince of active Might,  
Whose Sword was fertile in triumphant Bays,  
And glittered with Glories awful Light;  
All Ascalon beheld its noble flame,  
When He from conquered Alexandria came.   

20.  
Baldwin his Sonn, took up his Sceptre, and  
Long sturdy War with Saladine maintained,  
Till Leprosy seized on his Martial Hand  
And unto Resignation it constrained;  
And Guy of Joppa was the Friend whom He  
Alone would trust to be his Deputy.   

21.  
Next Him, his Nephew Baldwin stepped into  
The 〈◊〉, in which He scarcely settled was,  
But 〈◊〉 undermined Him, and so  
At 〈◊〉 Guy crowded into his Place  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the Earl of Tripoli so deep  
That 〈◊〉 in desperate Plots his Wrath did steep.   

22.  
With Suladine He deals, and wins so fart  
On his proud Hopes, that He persuades Him to  
Conjure against the Christians in a War  
Which soon attcheived their fatal Overthrow;  
For Arms and Treason so prevailed, that Guy,  
And Salem with him, did Subdued lie.   

23.  
Thus Barbarism afresh did domineer  
In the Metropolis of Piety;  
Which roused up the Western Emperors  
On Pagani me the Power of Zeal to try  
Surprised Syria at his Looks did quake,  
And from his Conquests all the Turks flew back.   

24.  
But as this generous Frederik, in his Might  
Road bravely on, his Horses fatal Fall  
Threw down the Conqueror into his Night  
Of Death. When lo, his noble Sonn, by all  
The Army chose for General, pursued  
His Father's Steps, and, where he went, subdued.   

25.  
But what can Virtue do, when Fate withstands?  
Upon this hopeful Sonn of Valour, who  
Had no capacity to fear the Hands  
Of Death from any Turk, or Pagan Foe,  
The Plague did seize, and in his warlike Heart  
Fixed its envenomed untimely Dart   

26.  
Then English Richard and French Philip came,  
And with new Western Bravery made good  
That mighty Loss; the Lightning of their Fame  
Flashed before their Swords; and like a Flood  
Encouraged by two Torrents meeting, They  
Swallowed up all that dared oppose their Way.   

27.  
But cursed Discord, the eternal Foe  
Of high Designs, sent Philip back again:  
Yet Richard on to Salem meant to go,  
Where He with Cyprus bought his right to reign;  
And would, had England's Jars not called him home,  
Have forced Saladine to make him room.   

28.  
Yet Martial Germany her Nobles sent  
By Saladines' Decease invited thither:  
Fierce Conquest with their Landing Armies went;  
But straight their Sunshine turned to lowrie Wether,  
For lo, the Austrian Duke and Saxon too,  
Untimely Death would let no further go.   

29.  
And yet undaunted Montfort with his brave  
Selected French, disdained back to start,  
Till He good reason to the Pagans gave  
To grow so same and kind, as to impart  
Peace to the Christians, which, without annoy  
In Prolemais and Tyre they did enjoy,   

30.  
Mean while, a glorious Conspiracy  
Of Western Princes to their Standards stream;  
Henry Count of St. Paul, of Campanie  
Theobald, of Flanders Baldwin, and of Breme  
Gualther, with Henry Duke of Lovanes State,  
And Boniface Marquis of Monferrate;   

31.  
These to the Holy Land their course did bend;  
But by the Grecian Quarrels turned aside,  
Their Martial Zeal on Ducas they did spend;  
And finding then fit Fevel for their Pride,  
Forgot the Butt of their devout Design,  
And took no longer aim at Palestine.   

32.  
But Montforts Truce expired; Germany  
Conjured again into the Holy War,  
Of which stout Brennus had the Conduct, He  
Whose coming, through the Pagans shot such 〈◊〉  
That they to buy it off, are willing to  
Whatever they held in Palestine, forgo.   

33.  
But vain Ambition lost this offered Prize;  
And swelling Hope of conquering Egypt, throws  
So thick a Mist before the Christian Eyes,  
That unto Cair the blinded Army goes;  
Where they with Nilu's floods besieged round,  
Their sacred Enterprise untimely drowned.   

34.  
Yet Frederik his Germane Eagles spread  
Again, and bravely into Syria flew;  
Which in the Pagan Sultan raised such Dread  
That all his Turkish Confidence it slew:  
He hasts to yield, and freely does resign  
Unto the Christians their deer Palestine.   

35.  
Thus when to his Imperial Diadem  
This conquering Prince had joined Salems' Crown,  
He Raynold leaves to manage it for Him,  
And brings his Triumph home: But straight the Frown  
Of Fortune, or of Fate, did blast what He  
Had nobly brought unto Maturity.   

36.  
For when the heavens had rolled five years about,  
Lo Raynold dies, and Salems' Fortune too:  
The Templars Insolence such falsehood wrought  
As generous Christians lest of all should do:  
Their breach of Truce did their own Selves deceive,  
And Salem unto Aegypts' Sultan give.   

37.  
Yet holy Lewis with his Frenchmen struck  
Into the Pagans such deep Fright, that they  
At his illustrious Oriflambes Look  
Unto his Victories gave willing way,  
Offering Him Salem, Palestine, and more  
Than Christians owned in Syria long before.   

38.  
But he by fatal Counsel, it denied,  
And then to Egypt's Sultan proved a Prey:  
The good King grieved; and in vain he tried  
His new Adventures Strength, for by the way  
A sudden and contagious Disease  
Both on his Army, and on Him did seize.   

39  
His quarrel Edward, England's sprightful Prince,  
Took up, and lost none of the English Fame:  
What Palms had this brave Hero plucked from thence,  
Had his conjured Allies but timely came:  
But whilst unworthily They lingered, he  
Returned, and left behind Ripe 〈◊〉.   

40.  
To gather which, Imperial Rodolph sent  
Henry the Prince of Megalopo is;  
A noble General he, and bravely bend;  
But yet against the bold impetuousness  
Of the stern Mameluhes too weak to stand,  
He yields his Neck to wear a Captives Band.   

41.  
These unsuccessful Expeditions Shame  
A waked the Christians utmost Indignation,  
Who in religious Throngs to Syria came.  
High were their Hopes, and great their Preparation;  
But both by baneful Pride invenomed were,  
Which brought to pass, more than the Turks could dare.   

42.  
As when the Huntsmen going to the Chase  
Wrangle and quarrel who shall bear away  
The Lion's Skin, until their strife increcse  
To such Intemperance, that it does betray  
Their whole Design, and make them readier to  
Chase one another, than that Common Foe.   

43.  
So here the Christians who a hunting came  
For Salems' Crown; before they it obtain,  
Divided are, and quarrel which of Them  
Had fairest Right and Title their to reign:  
All pleaded hard, and at the sceptre catched,  
As if it now had from the Turk been snatched   

44.  
The Kings, of England, Cyprus, Sicily,  
And France, the Pisans, Florentines, and Pope,  
The Prince of Antioch, Count of Tripoli,  
The Genovese, and the Venetians, hope.  
So did the Hospitals, and Templars too,  
That in the Diadem they had to do.   

45.  
Thus while this cursed War of Contestation  
Protracts the Holy one; the 〈◊〉 (who  
Like their own Swords, grow 〈◊〉 〈◊〉)  
Finding no Business now at all to do  
But to be wicked, through each neighbour Town  
Run 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 up and down.   

46.  
At these 〈◊〉 Wrongs the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Both in their Rage and in their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
And 〈◊〉 joined with their 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉  
Upon their 〈…〉  
Till by a quick and general 〈◊〉  
All 〈◊〉 out of 〈◊〉 beat.   

47.  
They beat them out of Syria, and 〈◊〉  
Of all that nsuall Braveric whereby  
Their frequent Armies they to Salem brought  
With fresh Reeruits of Zealous Pietic:  
Their Courage now lies dead and cold at home,  
Which used to live about their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

48.  
Yet not so dead, but it revives again  
Into a Life much worse than Death; for they  
Since that, with most unchristian 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Their swords in one another's blood, and 〈◊〉  
The Turks among themselves, whom they were wont  
More nobly from their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to hunt.   

49.  
The Cross must now against the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 spreo.  
(Blush all ye heavens at this!) and they who are  
Under the King of Peace all marshals.  
Be bararized by a mutual War,  
Tearing that precious gentle 〈◊〉  
Their Lord bequeathed to their Custody.   

50.  
They who by mystic Union are knit  
Under one Head, no other Foes do seel  
But their 〈◊〉 Members, and forge:  
That whilst on them their Savage spite they wreak  
The tender Head feels every wouno and will  
Score up drop which of His blood they 〈◊〉.   

51.  
Weep all good eyes, which see this dreadful shame  
Of Christians digging Christian Bowels up  
Sure that of blood, deserves your briny stream  
Weep then, and let your Bottles never stop,  
Till you have washed away this Purple stain,  
Against which all powers, but those of Tears are vair   

52.  
Had but the thousand part of this dear blood  
Adventured to be broached in Palestins  
Quite overwhelmed by its exuberant 〈◊〉  
Had Manomets wide spread contagion been  
And woeful Greece had not ensiaved 〈◊〉  
Under the burden or a Pagan Chain   

53.  
Or had that Power of Policy, or 〈◊〉  
Of Arms of Horse, of Men, and stronger Gold  
Which in our 〈◊〉- aestroying Britain's 〈◊〉  
Of late been livisned out, when Engiana 〈◊〉  
Her 〈◊〉 Misery, with provident  
And pious zeal in Syria been spent   

54.  
Our guilty words had now not blushed in  
〈◊〉 blood; nor had our Palms and Bays  
With any English curse destoured been;  
But Salem her sad Head ' gun to raise,  
Feeling from her long pressed neck, the yoke  
Of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 broke.   

55.  
As 〈◊〉 was 〈◊〉 Salem to forsake.  
As are our 〈◊〉 thither to advance  
Oft She looked hack, and many a view did take  
With weeping eyes, and blubbered countenance:  
But when the Hills she could no longer spy,  
Let 〈◊〉 now, said she, look 〈◊〉 mine eye.   

56.  
And with 〈◊〉 potent 〈◊〉 did she breath  
That heart sigh, that it made Phylax start,  
〈◊〉 the pallid characters of Death  
Appeared in her face, and every Part  
〈◊〉 cold and numb, as if her 〈◊〉 had 〈◊〉  
Back to the place whence she was hurried.   

57  
In application of his cordial Powers  
Had not the tender Guardian nimble been,  
His Psyche eyes now in their amorous showers  
Had their own final deluge found, and seen  
No more for ever: with such force doth love  
(Especially in female Bosoms) move.   

58.  
And ask me not, what makes this Passion prove  
So brave and potent in the softest hearts?  
Thyself the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 fect 〈◊〉 if genuine love  
On thee hath tried his mysterious Darts.  
If not: it is in vain to tell thee how  
This softness to such mighty strength doth grow,   

59  
But quick as is the infivence of light,  
New vigorous spirits He breathes into her breast  
Which thriliing through her Veins, chased out the 〈◊〉  
Of languic cold by which they were posiest  
And 〈◊〉 her blood, bidding it rise, and 〈◊〉  
Her 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 snor   

60.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but toward 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Her 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and then 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Courage my Dear, said 〈◊〉, be content  
Saiern 〈◊〉 nothing more for there 〈◊〉  
 
  

61.  
As when a Friend unwelcome Motions makes,  
His other self (who has no power to be  
Right-down displeased, at whatsoever breaks  
From those beloved lips, which Faithful he  
Holds dearer than his own, displays the smart  
In his Eyes mirrors, of his wounded Heart:   

62.  
So the Sweet anguish of her loving look  
Psyche a while lays open to Phylax view,  
That He might read in that pathetic book  
How by that Word of his her Joys He slew.  
But when He seemed that language not to ken,  
Her lips thus to interpret it began.   

63.  
Between two deaths, which shall poor Psyche choose  
For death it is my Phylax to displease,  
And death, religious Salems' sweets to loose:  
And I, alas, have but one life for these:  
Yet had I more, my straits were still the same;  
For all were due to thee, and all to them.   

64.  
O dear Protector of my Joys, and Me,  
Divide not now thy charge: Had I not been  
Conducted hither by thy Piety,  
Psyche Jerusalem had never seen,  
Not been enchanted by the precious Graces  
Which have endeared these consecrated places.   

65.  
And of these Jewels must I rob be.  
By none but dearest thee! Had open Foes  
Thus all at once impoverished feeble Me,  
I might have grappled with my single woes;  
But now each grief and loss, by springing from  
Thine Hand, on Me doth more than doubled come.   

66.  
O what has Albion that can entertain  
A Soul which is from Salem snatched away!  
Salem which in the World's heart queen doth reign,  
Whilst Albion's Clime her vileness doth betray,  
Whom Nature threw into the West, and sought  
How from the Universe to kick her out.   

67.  
Arimathaean joseph's tomb indeed  
Is there, that something that poor Ilse might have;  
But o, the sight of that, will only feed  
That fire which burns me with his other Grave.  
His other Grave, in which my Spouse did he  
Far, far from Albion, whither thou wouldst fly.   

68  
When in the lofty air the fish can live,  
When in the bottom of the Sea the Lark,  
When Cancer can to Winter welcome give,  
When Highnoon can inhabit in the Dark,  
When Albion can to Salem shipped be,  
Then may it prove a fitting home for me.   

69.  
But until then, I only thither go  
Bearing my woeful Corpse unto my Tomb,  
Since thou sweet-bitter friend wilt have it so,  
And not vouchsafe in Palestine a room  
For poor distressed Psyche. Here a stream  
Of Tears flowed down from Her, and softened him.   

70.  
Nay I am not so hard, says He, but I  
Can yield to fewer tears of thine, than those:  
Come wipe thine eyes, for thou shalt instantly  
Live in those joys, Thou hold'st it death to lose.  
With that He sloped the Rein, and wheeled about,  
And smiling Psyche back to Salem brought.   

71.  
She smiled; but sober He confessed no sign  
Of jollity at this Return; for He  
By his profounder judement did divine  
That Land, however Holy, would not be  
A Sanctuary to his Psyche, since  
His and her Master's summons called him thence.   

72.  
A little House He there prepared for Her,  
And with all requisites replenished it.  
But then, with awful looks He cried, my dear,  
Thou see'st what order I have took to fit  
Thy longing, and thy Lodging too; but now  
I a more useful gift than these, bestow.   

73.  
'Tis my Advice; of which Thou hast more need  
Than here to sojourn: yet thy being here  
Doth all that mystic mighty danger breed  
Which by thy life I thee conjure to fear.  
Thy life at Salem is in peril, which  
Had been in Albion out of Dangers reach.   

74.  
Where Waters most do ●mile and 〈◊〉 now,  
The deepest Gulfs beneath in 〈◊〉 lie;  
Where in their briskest beauty Roses grow,  
An armed Troop of dangerous Thorns stand by;  
All Poisons then most active are and bold  
When they are lodged in pompous Pearl and 〈◊〉   

75.  
Sweet Paradise was not so safe, but there  
The worst of Serpents in its Sweets did dwell:  
And though to thee Heaven seems descended here,  
Yet even in Salem thou may'st meet with Hell.  
I grant the Serpent here was slain, but yet  
Their fragments Snakes know how again to knit.   

76.  
Trust not their glittering Skins, though fair they be,  
But fly their Looks; for thick Enchantments are  
Enammelled in their outside Bravery,  
And holy Traps, and Treacheries they wear;  
With cunning Art they wind about, and glide,  
And into unsuspecting Holes they slide.   

77.  
Trust not their Tongue (which is indeed a Sting,)  
Though it be tipped with Golden Courtesy;  
Though Heaven rolled up in Promises it bring,  
And Wisdoms most inviting Sweetness: Ye  
Shall be as Gods, discerning Good and Evil,  
Was a brave Word, yet minted by the Devil.   

78.  
Remember here thy Spouse was once betrayed,  
Remember that he here was thrice denied,  
Remember that thou art a feeble Maid,  
Remember thy Agenor, and thy Pride,  
Remember the Rebellion of thy Passions,  
Remember Aphrodisiu's Protestations.   

79.  
Remember what from Charis and from Me  
Thou hast received, and let no Sirens Song  
Bewitch thine Ears with treacherous Harmony,  
In which the blessed Tunes of Heaven have rung.  
Take heed this humour of thy Zeal does not  
Cast on its sober lines a wanton blot.   

80.  
Lock up these Counsels in thine Heart, and there  
Let them lie safe for Me till I come back;  
Thy Trust, and Love shall hence to me appear,  
If of these Pawns thou faithful Care dost take,  
These Pawns, which will my Guardian Wings supply  
Although from thee I far away do fly.   

81.  
I must away, for this heavens pleasure is,  
And therefore must be mine, and should be thine:  
I business have abroad; but by this Kiss,  
(And here he took his leave,) the truth of mine  
Affection, Psyche, on thy Lip I seal;  
Keep the Impression safe, and so Farewell.   

82.  
Away this Word, and He together flew:  
For now the King of Souls thought fit to teach  
Psyche how little of her Heart she knew,  
Who thought it raised past Delusions reach.  
To her own Strength she now was left, that she  
How little it deserved that Name, might see.   

83.  
But when her Guardian now out-flew her View,  
At his most unexpected Parting she  
At first amazed and afflicted grew:  
But strait revolving that her Heart was free  
With all Jerusalem to satisfy  
Its curious fervour, she left off to Sigh.   

84.  
Then in a modest Veil her face she hid,  
Leaving her Eyes but room her way to see;  
Zeal tied unto her feet the Wings of Speed,  
And on she hasted toward Calvarie,  
Her Saviour's Pains afresh there to lament,  
Not thinking that to her own Cross she went.   

85.  
Mean while, all pious Hearts eternal Foe  
Who to entrap them keeps perpetual Watch,  
Observing her without her Guardian go,  
Judged this his only time his Prey to catch:  
He posted to a special Furies' Den,  
Who started all her Snakes as he came in,   

86.  
But as she in ten thousand Hisses spoke  
Her Sovereign's Welcome; Peace my Child, said He,  
Part of my Errand's Haste, and cannot brook  
These Compliments Delay: I have for Thee  
A piece of Service which will better prove  
How much thy Father Satan thou dost love.   

87.  
Psyche, a Thing to Jesus wondrous dear,  
(And therefore full as odious to Me,  
Who by his Love am always pointed where  
I am to shoot my Spite) is that coy she  
Whom though I sundry Times have baited, yet  
Back in my face the Poison still she spit.   

88  
I Aphrodisius and Agenor sent,  
And genuine Fiends they proved themselves to be;  
About their hellish Work they wisely went,  
And bravely acted all the Treachery;  
And yet, good Devils, their far-driven Plot.  
So crafty was that Wench, they finished not.   

89.  
Not that this Craft in her poor mortal Brain  
Was bred and nursed: o no, abused We are;  
And Heaven, though always We to it give plain  
Defiance, underhand maintains this Warr.  
There, drowned in Sulphur, Thou hadst Psyche seen,  
Had it not for unlukie Phylax been.   

90.  
He, base unworthy Spirit as He is,  
Not only stoops to Christ, (which gallant We  
Of old disdained, and still do no less,)  
But with intolerable Flattery  
Turns Page to dust and Ashes, and doth bow  
From Heaven, to wait on this vile Worm below.   

91.  
Had He not better nobly Fallen with Us,  
And never have debased his Highborn Mind;  
Then crouch, and sneak, and curry favour thus  
Of the proud Tyrant? Can an Angel find  
It worth Christ's Favour to be humbled down  
Far more below himself, than We are thrown?   

92.  
For my part, if I freely were to choose,  
I would accept the bottom of my Hell,  
And hug Damnation; e'er I would with those  
Ignoble Sons of Earth a Servant d well.  
Those Guardian Angels think We Cursed be;  
Fools! who perceive not their own Misery.   

93.  
They boast heavens King's their Sovereign; and I  
Take the confessing Vassals at their Word:  
But I'll maintain it greater Dignity  
To have Him for my Foe, than for my Lord:  
They brag that heavens their own, & Blisse's Hill;  
Why I have more than so; I have my Will.   

94.  
But now, my Daughter, Phylax is away,  
His servile Diligence thou needst not fear;  
Psyche is left unto herself to day,  
And therefore unto Us, if thou tak'st Care  
To lay thy Plots aright; for thine they be  
On which I build my Hopes of Victory.   

95.  
She now is on her way to Calvary,  
The Hill which more than Heaven itself I hate,  
And have no mind in person to come nigh  
That cursed Place: It stands not with the State  
And honour of Imperial Lucifer  
To smell the 〈◊〉 of Jesus Sepulchre.   

96.  
But for thy Father's sake, and service, Thou  
Shalt stop thy Nose, and venture to go thither,  
Where Thou a subtle Chain of Snakes shalt throw  
About that peevish Wench to hale her hither;  
So at her, and her cheated Spouse, both I  
And thou will laugh unto Eternity.   

97.  
His foaming Lips He closed here, and beat  
The flood of flaming Sulphur back into  
His monstrous Throat. Straitat his burning Feet  
His damned Daughter took her leave to go,  
And with stout Fury rushed through the Earth;  
And mingled with the Air, as she broke forth.   

98.  
In this she flew above Suspicions Eye,  
And undiscerned shot into the Breasts  
Of divers Mortals, where she formerly,  
Had entertainment found: But now her Nests  
She feathered anew with greater Store  
Of viperous Powers, than she left there before.   

99  
Such was her dangerous Policy, that she  
For Psyche laid her Net in others Hearts,  
Which she made lovely by the bravery  
Of most refined sublimated Arts:  
No fowler e'er used such allureing Ways  
To charm poor Birds by treacherous 〈◊〉   

100  
For though she were the very Centre, where  
The Lines of all Deformities did meet;  
The Looks of Beauty she knew how to wear,  
And make her horridness appear so sweet,  
That she the wisest and most piercing Eyes  
Had often blinded by her Fallacies.   

101.  
But now the Virgin at the doleful Mount  
Arrived was; where in the reverend place  
Of the dear Crosses Foot, she made account  
To pour her Vows: But there before Her was  
A youthful Man, who prepossessed her room,  
And thither of her errand seemed to come.   

102.  
His Looks, though guilty of few years, were yet  
Grown pale and old with pious Gravity;  
His sober Garb was such as best might fit  
Those who not spruce and brave but clothed would be;  
His Body thin, but thick his 〈◊〉; which grown  
To its full length, did at his back flow down   

103.  
Upon the ground He lay and beat his Breast,  
Which echoed back the Blows, with Sighs & groans:  
At length, with iterated Knockings pressed,  
It yielded forth these Ejulations:  
O Geief and Pains, had you no other Heart  
But His, to make the Sink of all your Smart!   

104.  
That Heart! which all of Sweetness moulded was.  
That Heart! where Heaven found its Epitome.  
That Heart! the fountain of all softest Grace.  
That heart! where all the World's best Life did lie.  
The heart of Jesus! here a boisterous Sigh  
Came blusting out, and breaking off his Cry.   

105.  
But then, recovering his Tongue again;  
Alas, said He, and why are you unjust?  
Why from this Breast of mine do you abstain,  
Which all your utmost stings doth merit? Must  
He who deserves the best of Joys, alone  
Inherit all the depth of Passion?   

106.  
Are there no Whips, no Thorns, no Nails for Me?  
May these my youthful shoulders bear no Cross?  
Is there no Portion of Misery  
Left for my high Desert? did He engross  
What sinful I had better Title to  
Sure this at least shall be my Grief and Woe.   

107.  
As when the hollow Winds have driven together  
Black lagging Clouds, the gravid vapours break  
With their own weight, and pour the rainey Weather  
Down through the gloomy Air: So on his Cheek  
His labouring Eyes their fertile streams let flow,  
Which his tempestuous grief did thither blow.   

108.  
And now his Lips no more had power to speak,  
In Zealous Kisses He does them employ;  
He kissed the Soil, where once that Blood did reek,  
Which all the Earth's Redemption did pay:  
And every Kiss did new Desire beget  
Of more affectionate Embracing it.   

109.  
Psyche observing his sweet Passion swell  
With such Devotion, soon forgot her own;  
And with the Stranger in such love she fell  
That at his feet herself she bowed down,  
She bowed down, and little thought that then  
She stooped to enter the forbidden Gin.   

110.  
But as the wary Seaman, when He spies  
The amiable Mermaid floating nigh,  
Turns from the dangerous Bait his jealous Eyes,  
Hoiseth his sail up, and his Oars doth ply:  
So this Devoto, seeing Psyche there,  
Confessed and fortified his holy fear.   

111.  
For starting at the unexpected sight,  
Shield me, my blessed Guardian, said He;  
Satan, who doth with everlasting spite  
Disturb the Course of Zealous Piety,  
Hath to facilitate my molestation,  
In this fair damosel sent me my Temptation.   

112.  
But whosoever thou art, go seek thy Prey  
Where rampant Lust in furious Bonfires reigns:  
Thy Beauty's Lustre must not thaw its way  
Thorough my tame, and now long-cooled veins.  
How know I but thou art some fair dressed Fiend  
To make Me foul? and here Himself He signed.   

113.  
Ravished with this Religious Jealousy,  
Sweet Sir, said Psyche, I was hither come  
Upon that errand which your Piety  
Hath here dispatched; in that very room  
I purposed my devoted sighs to blow,  
And make mine Eyes their liquid Duty know.   

114.  
My bounteous Lord took my Intent, I see,  
For actual Deed; and hath rewarded it:  
He knew no blessing would more welcome be  
Unto my Heart, than this which here I met;  
And this, art Thou, in whom I plainly read  
The love of Him of whom my soul is Head.   

115.  
I heard thy holy Sighs, and hearty Groans,  
As towards Heaven from thy Sweet Breast they flew,  
I heard thy generous Lamentations;  
And by those zealous Characters I knew  
That Jesus had by his Soul-conquering Dart  
Engraved heavens best impression on thy Heart.   

116.  
I thank Thee, that thou wert of Me afraid,  
For much I reverence that pious fear:  
Yet be assured thou hast met a Maid  
In whom no Embers of black fervour are:  
No, no; my Heart will no such Guests allow,  
For it too well doth Aphrodisim know.   

117.  
Indeed I might have been what you suspected,  
Fowl Satan's Agent, and a fiend of Hell,  
Had our dear Lord the care of Me neglected,  
And not sealed sure on mine, his blessed Will:  
And so mightst Thou, had He not spread above  
Thy helpless head, the Banner of his Love.   

118.  
That Love, which wheresoe'er I find it shine,  
Doth humble Reverence from my heart command;  
Wonder not at my Case, but make it thine,  
And think how thou couldst shun, or how withstand  
Thy Charming Self: If I immodest be,  
Like Love will pardon Love's Immodesty.   

119.  
Yet 'tis no Boldness to admire the Sun,  
To love the stars, and, what more lovely is,  
Their Sovercign, and ours: what I have done  
To Thee, great Jesus gave me leave to his  
Own Self to do: Wherefore no more admire  
That I grow warm now I come near thy fire.   

120.  
My Warmth is pure, as is its spring in thee;  
I mixed it not at all with other fires:  
And only on thy Zealous Piety  
I feast the Hunger of my chaste Desires:  
I am a stranger here, and hither come  
On Love's dear business from my British Home.   

121.  
But in this Land of Holiness I meet  
Such dear Remembrances of Heaven, that I  
Desire my native Albion to forget,  
And where my Saviour did, both live and die.  
Me thinks I here am nearest Him, who is  
Whither I live or die, mine only Bliss.   

122.  
Yet some Acquaintance and Companion I  
Would gladly gain, with whom my foul might live  
In holy freindships' sweet society,  
And mutual Heats of Zeal from Him receive.  
Heaven puts you in my way, and if you be  
What you appear, you will be kind to Me.   

123.  
This said: sometimes to Him her pleading Eye,  
Sometimes to Heaven She turned; and by that mute  
But most mysterious Importunity,  
Solicited her earnest bashful suit;  
Urging by this her yielding silence, more  
Strong Arguments than she had spoke before.   

124.  
Moved with her soft Expressions, and her Tears,  
(For these flowed out as thick, and sweet as they,)  
The Man gives credit unto both, and cheers  
His clouded Looks, and cries, O happy Day  
Which hast discovered unto Me a Breast  
Of heavens pure dove the chaste unspotted Nest.   

125.  
Pardon dear Stranger, pardon my Mistake,  
And be no longer in that Name to me.  
What recompense I can, I vow to make  
To thy misprised slandered Piety.  
I at thy bounteous Offer catch, and will  
Both thy Desire, and mine own Joys fulfil.   

126.  
Rare are those friends, as Birds of Paradise,  
In this unworthy world but seldom seen,  
Whose Hearts in one no other Cement ties  
But heavenly Zeal and Love: and had I been  
As good, as I am vile, thy Offer were  
Worthy to be unto my Soul most dear.   

127.  
If by the royal Law of our great Lord,  
Precious in our esteem our Foes must be;  
O what Embraces must We then afford  
To them who Us out vie in Charity!  
Come gentle Soul, and this chaste Token take,  
That to thy Wish my heart I pliant make.   

128.  
Here by an Holy Kiss (for that of old  
The Symbol was of Christian Consent,)  
He seal d his Words; then reverently took hold  
Of her right Hand, and down the Mountain went,  
Leading Her to his Dwelling; whither she  
Went cheerly on, fearing no Treachery.   

129.  
Into the Praetors Nest thus flies the Dove;  
Thus to the smiling Shelves the Ship doth run;  
The stranger thus to the enchanted Grove  
Goes for delight; Thus to the fatal Den  
Of the fair tongued Hyoena skips the Lamb;  
The Child thus leaps into the playing flame,   

130.  
Come to his House; 
* 〈◊〉,  Authades, (for his Name  
Was so) prays Psyche not to take it ill,  
That since she in a busy season came,  
His sacred Office He did first fulfil,  
Before on her He waited: But, said He,  
The work, though great, will soon dispatched be,   

131.  
In his eighth journey Phoebus now did run  
Since his firstborn Authades did enjoy,  
Who by the rule of his Religion  
Was bound to circumcise the Child that Day;  
Which with a consecrated knife of stone  
He did, and gave his own name to his Son.   

132.  
The Infant's Wound, the softer heart did slay  
Of Psyche, who straight wreped, and knocked her breast,  
And then with indignation turned away.  
But cunning He perceiving how his Guest  
Dis-rellished her welcome, to her stepped,  
And, 〈◊〉 first, demanded why she weeped.   

133.  
In sullen silence she made her Reply,  
Composed of Frowns, and of complete disdain;  
Till forced by his mild Importunity,  
She gave her angry Tongue a liberal Rein:  
Shame on my credulous Love, which thus, said she,  
Bewithced me to the Den of Heresy.   

134.  
Are you the Man who crouched to the Place  
Of Jesu's Cross, and him, your Lord, did call?  
How come you now to wear a Jewish face,  
And with your Circumcision tool, cut all  
Your Christian Mask in pieces? Blind were I  
As was your zeal. could I this crime not spy.   

135.  
Had you Believed that Jesu's blood was shed  
To wash the stains of all the World away,  
Your cruel; Heresy had not made red  
Your Infant in his needle's blood to day;  
Who had been purer had you washed Him  
In a much gentler flood, pure Baptisms stream.   

136.  
I see what reason my wise Guardian had  
To be so jealous of my staying here;  
Why He so solemnly appeared sad  
When I was merry, and refused to fear;  
He knew black Satan would himself array  
In heavenly purity Me to betray.   

137.  
Here she was flinging out. But fawning He  
By the great Cross of Christ, and geater Name,  
Prayed, and conjured her pious Charity  
His unexpected action not to blame,  
But to defer her Censure, and to hear  
With patience how He could his cause declare.   

138.  
Such power had that reverend contestation  
On Psyche's tender heart, that she relents:  
When 〈◊〉 He, after long Commendation  
Of her soft candour, tells Her He reputes  
That He his Declaration did not make  
E'er He that solemn work did undertake.   

139.  
Then to a private Chamber Her He brought,  
That no Disturbance might his ends prevent;  
And by all Ceremonious service sought  
To entertain her thoughts with kind content:  
For on a silken Couch, when she was set,  
With softer language, thus He 'gan the feat.   

140.  
Sure now, dear stranger, thou art quit with me,  
And hast repaid me in my proper Coin:  
I for 〈◊〉 Instrument suspected thee,  
Thou for an Heretic dost me define:  
But I recanted; and if thou do so,  
Quit on the other side We may be too.   

141.  
If headlong jealousye for proof should pass,  
What thing so perilo us were as Innocence?  
What must we think of our great Saviour's Case,  
Who for a Devil slandered was? and whence  
Shall We acquit his Wise Apostles, who  
In the fond Worlds esteem for fools did go?   

142.  
Thou prov'dst not what my sudden fear did speak,  
Nor am I such as thine did me present:  
Truth can herself clear and transparent make,  
And never failed to yield compieat content  
To those whom Prejudicies' poison had  
Not first envenomed, and partial made.   

143.  
Know then, that I am one of those whose breasts  
Are consecrated to that Lord whom thou  
Alone adorest, and permit no Guests  
To thrust in thither, who will not allow  
That gentle Sovereign to domineer,  
And reign without all contradiction there.   

144.  
That poor contemptuous place, whence glorious He  
Vouchafed to take his surname, is the same  
Whence 〈◊〉 his humility,  
Our Common Title We his followers frame:  
Too high for Us the Style of Chrastian is,  
Plain Nazareen our Ambition doth suffice.   

145.  
Unto the Dictates of his royal Law  
With universal Meekness we submit:  
Whilst others but by halves will deign to bow,  
As Makers they, not Subjects were to it:  
All hard and costly Precepts, they refuse,  
And leave that Burden for the slavish Jews.   

146.  
They tell the World how they a Patent have  
Writ in the Style of Christian Liberty,  
By which heavens King to Them Commission gave  
To break the Bonds of Legal Slavery:  
And a wise King the while they make Him, who  
Allows them, what his Law forbids, to do.   

147.  
And is not this a brave Religion, where  
There is no room for any Charge or Pains?  
Cunning and thrifty its Profeslors are,  
Who in their own Hands moderate the Reins  
Which on their Necks should lie; who as they please,  
Dispose their Discipline to their own Ease.   

148.  
And yet 'twere well, would they their Charter show  
Which makes them Free States, and vouchsafe but to  
Declare what in the new-delivered Law  
Doth cross and disannul the old; that so  
The World might Satisfaction gain, and we  
Be made Partakers of their Liberty.   

149.  
For we know no such Thing: But this we know  
That Jesus who is Author of the New,  
Was Institutor of the ancient Law  
And upon Sina's Head his Trumpet blew  
To wake the World, and warn it to give ear  
Unto the Precepts which he thundered there.   

150.  
And did he then Retract, what he before  
Oreained had? Was Circumcision than  
Commanded to be exercised no more  
Upon the tender Infant-Sons of Men?  
O no such Change inconsistent be  
With a wise God's Immutability.   

151.  
Like his own Self his Laws eternal are,  
And need no Reformation or Corrections:  
Our inconsiderane Lawgivers here  
Infect their Laws with their own Imperfections,  
And both may mended be: But surely 'tis  
Proud Blasphemy to say so of Him, or His.   

152.  
But his Example is full Explication  
Of his own Laws: And what did righteous He  
When fitted by his blessed Incarnation  
He could, like Us, to them a Subject be?  
Did not he set the Seal of his own Blood  
To Circumcision, that this Law was good?   

153.  
His Presentation in the Temple shows  
His clear submission to the Law which there  
Professed was: Nor did he e'er refuse  
To solemnize the Festivals which were  
Legaly Sacred; or, when he drew near  
His End, forget to keep the Passover.   

154.  
Let others cast the blustering scare-crowe Name  
Of Heresy upon our genuine Zeal;  
We trust we never shall repute it shame  
To tread His Steps to whom we all appeal  
As to our only King: and surely he  
Cannot but own those who his Followers be.   

155.  
The Gospel Laws Weequaly Embrace:  
And though my Son I Circumcised, yet  
I cut him not off from Baptismal Grace,  
For in that Laver we our Children wet,  
That in this double Sacramental Stream  
Of Blood and Water, they to Christ may swim.   

156.  
We grant, that where the Circumcision 〈◊〉  
Blusheth not to oppose and useless make  
That venerable World-redeeming Blood  
Which from the precious Veins of Jesus broke,  
The Sacrament's Heretical: But we  
Teach it more meek and mannerly to be.   

157.  
If now we of too Much Obedience seem  
Guilty to thee, Convince Us of our Sin:  
'Tis plain thou hast an hopeful pleasant Theme,  
And easily upon our Hearts may'st win,  
If Truth fight with Thee: for what Man is he  
Who by just Licence would not conquered be?   

158.  
He ceased here. But as the loathing Vine,  
Though in the Colewort she can plainly read  
No hostile Quality, doth yet decline  
Her Touch, and any 〈◊〉 Shrub or Weed  
Will rather hug with all her Arms, then by  
The least Embrace approve that Company.   

159.  
So Psyche, though she could not easily show  
The venom of Authade's Sophistric;  
Yet could her heart not possibly allow  
What she could not confute: Much rather she  
Would with fell Adders hisses fall in love,  
Than the intent of his discourse approve.   

160.  
For Discontent still gathered up her Brow,  
Still nauseous neglect streamed from her eye,  
Still on her Guardians Words she thought; and now  
The Serpent had his Poisonous suavity  
Displayed, and his enchantment finished,  
She waved her Hand, and turned aside her head.   

161.  
But Logos (who, with Thelema did lie  
Close in her breast,) pricked up his ready ear,  
And drunk in all the gorgeous fallacy  
With such Delight, that He could not forbeat  
Now Psyche seemed unsatisfied, to break  
His itching mind; and thus He freely spoke.   

162.  
Madame, although the Jewish law to you  
Expired seems, yet that of Courtesy  
To be even yet in date you will allow,  
And why must then your looks transgressors be?  
Why with such Glances of Disdain must they  
Your gentle entertainment here repay?   

163.  
For my part, if I ever understood  
What firmper spicuous Probations meant,  
What Reasons solid were, what Topics good,  
What Demonstrations sound; I must consent  
That he of none but such Materials here  
The Fabric of his strong Discourse did rear.   

164.  
And, let me tell you, Reason is a Law  
High and divine, engraved in every breast,  
Which must no Change nor Antiquation know;  
A Law, which whosoever dares resist  
Rebels against Himself, whom He stamps under  
His obstinate feet, and nature tears in sunder.   

165.  
O strive not then to be more Wise, than what  
Is Wisdoms only Rule: Aathades now  
By Reasons genuine Lustre shows you that  
He walks in Highnoon light; and why will you  
Be groping still in Darkness, when you may  
By his fair Pharus Conduct sail to Day?   

166.  
Psyche stung by this Check began to groan:  
When lo her Thelema took Courage, and  
With a resolved Countenance fastened on  
Logos his shoulders her imperious hand;  
Which shaked him from his boldness into fear,  
And summoned to her Words his humbler Ear.   

167.  
Pert sir, said she, does it to you belong  
To hold the golden Reins of Psyche's heart?  
That thus you stretch your Magisterial tongùe  
Usurping what would better suit my part:  
YE had best e'en take her Throne, and make both Me  
And Her wait on your upstart Majesty.   

168.  
Though His soft Words tickle your wanton ear,  
We use not to such easy Charms to yield;  
Both Psyche's stomach is too weak to bear,  
And so is mine, his gilded Doses, though filled  
With sugared Blandishments. Yet ask not why  
It is enough for us, but to deny.   

169.  
Authades seeing how his dainty bait  
Disgusted was, to heaven lift up his eye,  
And cried, Alas, that dangerous Deceit  
Should be suspected in Truth's arms to lie.  
Yet Psyche, I do not disprove thy fear;  
Always the wisest Souls most jealous are.   

170.  
And this thy pious jeulousie to me  
So precious is, that it inflames my heart  
With higher estimation of thee  
Who in Faith's Business thus tender art:  
Those who with headlong hast such points receive.  
To me seem but to fancy, not believe.   

171.  
I grant 'twas thy unhappiness, that thou  
Meetest with so faint a Disputant as I:  
And sure our Cause were weak if it could show  
No better Pillars of its Verity  
Than my Abilities, which I confess  
Are full as feeble, as that solid is.   

172.  
Yet why should Truth for my unworthy sake  
Fail to find welcome in thy precious Breast?  
Why shouldst thou pay so dearly for my lack  
Of Eloquence or Logic, as to rest  
In that unhappy Ignorance content,  
Which though I cannot help, I must lament.   

173.  
That Word broke open the Fountains of his Eyes,  
Which in deceitful Pity flowed down.  
Yet knocking then his crafty Breast, He cries,  
Why should I think just Heaven on you hath thrown  
The punishment of this my Weakness? and  
Because I'm Dull, not let Thee understand?   

174.  
O no! wouldst thou but deign to walk with Me  
To a Friend's house not far from hence; Thou there  
The Looks of living Piety shouldst see;  
And from an Oracle Resolutions hear:  
If Thou repent Thee of thy Pains, I am  
Content for ever to endure thy Blame.   

175.  
This pressed Kindness, She who gentle was,  
Knew not how to reject; and therefore goes  
With her fair-tongued Companion: Alas  
That facile Hearts should to themselves be Foes  
When others they with Facilnes befriend!  
That pliant Twigs should break because they bend!   

176.  
But at the house, they at his Prayers find  
A Man whom Age had covered with Snow:  
Yet noble Fervour in his pious mind  
With more than youthful Vigour seemed to glow:  
So strong was his Devotion, and so high  
In all Espressions of Love's Bravery.   

177.  
Authades at his Back strait kneeled down;  
And so did Psyche, much amazed to see  
How far that old Devoto had out-flown  
The flagging Pitch of her young Piety.  
Such flaming Prayers she never heard before,  
Nor such importunate Knocks at heavens high Door   

178.  
She often looked that the Spheres should open,  
And to the longing Saint his Lord disclose;  
She wondered that his Body flew not up  
Seeing his Soul on such stout Pinions rose;  
But most she marvelled that his working Heart  
Stretching so high, did not in sunder start.   

179.  
With secret Checks her languid Soul she chid  
Which with such violence never yet did flame;  
Her Eyes hung down; her Cheeks were overspread  
With blushing (but with o how guiltless!) shame:  
Nor ravished less was Thelema, who till now  
No Good would in the Nazareens allow.   

180.  
O Looks, and Outside Things, how mighty are  
And how substantial your Impostures, on  
Unhappy Mortals, who their Judgement square  
By Ear and Eye, and those vain Rules alone  
They borrow from the Senses School, wherein  
How many Beasts more learned are than Men!   

181.  

* False Saint.  Pseudagius now three times his Head did bow  
In humble Adoration, and arose  
Up from the ground. Which when Authades saw,  
He forward stepped, his business to disclose.  
But Psyche plucked him by the Arm, and told  
Him, forher sake He need not be so bold.   

182.  
Pardon Me Sir, said she; for now my Mind  
Convinced by heavenly Satisfaction is;  
In him I such commanding Goodness find,  
That, though I would, yet I cannot do less  
Than stoop to that Profession which he  
Hath authorised by such high Piety.   

183.  
The height of my Desires, (if yet it be  
Not Pride to reach at such transcendent Bliss,)  
Is, that I with his leave advanced may be  
To his religious Acquaintance: This  
Perhaps may Me enable to repay  
The Debt your Love hath laid on Me to day.   

184.  
Authades glad and proud that he had thus  
This Conquest gained, bade her be secure:  
Then bowing down before Pseudagius,  
Regard, most holy Sir, said he, the pure  
And pious Suit of a religious Maid,  
Which modest she upon my Tongue hath laid.   

185.  
heavens Love hath kindled in her pliant Breast  
Full Approbation of whatever she  
Beholds amongst Us Nazareens professed;  
And now our Proselyte she resolves to be:  
Only she begs that you would not disdain  
Her as you humble Friend to entertain.   

186.  
His solemn Eye to Heaven Pseudagius cast.  
And cried, Forbid it blessed Jesus, I  
Should not be kind to Any whom Thou passed  
With thine own Favour deigned to dignify:  
'Tis Condescend indeed in Thee; but how  
Can I thy Worm stoop, who crawl here below?   

187.  
This said; with reverend Pleasantness He came  
And grave Acquaintance took with Psyche's Lipp;  
She big with humble Thanks, cried out, who am  
Unworthy I, such holy Sweets to sipp!  
Hadst Thou vouchsafed Me but thy Feet to Kiss,  
That favour I had hugged as my Bliss.   

188.  
Thus cheated She, did her Mishap admire,  
As doth the silly fly the beauteous Flame;  
Little surmising what outrageous Fire  
Reigned in that Bait which looked so mild and tame:  
Ne'er did she stand on such a Brink as this,  
And never feared less a Precipice.   

189.  
Pseudagius, whose faire-faced Piety  
Complete possession of her Heart had won,  
Now exercised his full Tyranny  
Upon his tender yielding Prey; and soon  
Infused his Poisons with such holy Art,  
That their Contagion ruled in every Part.   

190.  
Satan who lurked in Ambush to espy  
How his Design would take; rejoiced to see  
That Psyche by this moderate Heresy  
So easily charmed was; for crafty He  
When but a little Leaven was cast in,  
Had oft the tainting of the whole Lump seen.   

191.  
He knew a little Gap, might quickly turn  
A mighty Chasm: He knew one Spark might thrive  
Into a fullgrown Flame, and serve to burn  
The strongest Fort: He knew one Wheel might drive  
A thousand more; He knew a careless Slip  
Might cause a Fall, as well's a desperate Skip.   

192.  
He knew that they who once a foot had set  
In Errors Labrynth, would easily be  
Allured further to proceed in it  
By their own tickling 〈◊〉;  
He knew they soon might fall in love with Night  
Whose Eyes once turned from Truth's meridian Light.   

193.  
But yet to make all sure, he Logos filled  
With foolish Pride, and Confidence, since He  
Saw Thelema, and Psyche forced to yield  
At last, to what He did at first agree;  
And They abashed with unhappy shame,  
His domineering Carriage durst not blame.   

194.  
By this unbrideled Insolence he grew  
So vain and careless in his Work, that he  
Presumed far more than all the World be known  
In Truth's judicious Discovery.  
Thus foolish Dreamers think they view the skies,  
When dusky Sleep hath sealed up their Eyes.   

195.  
For as one Morning Psyche walked out  
Intending for her Saviour's Sepulchre;  
Full in her way the watchful Tempter brought  
One who no common Mortal did appear:  
Grave was his Garb, but graver far his Look,  
And him for some deep-learned Man she took.   

196.  
Capricious Logos could not rest content  
Till he had sounded what the Man could say;  
Big with a spruce and eloquent Compliment,  
He brings it forth, and lays it in his way,  
Bo wing down to the ground with it; which done,  

* 〈◊〉  Agyrtes stayed, and Logos thus went on:   

197.  
Sir, if your Head unto your Looks be true,  
It is of Knowledge a vast Treasury;  
And those Spiritual Riches never knew  
What Loss or Diminution meant, when by  
A liberal Impartment they were thrown  
To others Breasts, yet not plucked from their 〈◊〉.   

198.  
For though his radiant Largise on the Moon  
And every Star, and all the World beside  
He poureth out; yet still the copious Sun  
Doth in his undiminish'd Glory ride.  
Although a thousand Channels it doth fill,  
The teeming Fountain lives in Fullness still.   

199.  
A portion of your Streams, and of your Light,  
Is that We beg; not to impoverish you,  
But to enrich ourselves: Our ignorant Night  
To knowing Day may by your Influence grow;  
Our arid barren Intellect may be  
By your Effusions taught Fertility.   

200.  
That natural Desire which did inflame  
Your Industry to reach at Knowledge, is  
Common to Us; nor will your Wisdom blame  
Our free and bold Obedience unto this  
Potent Instinct, by following which, you have  
Attained that Blessing which of you We crave.   

201.  
When by a grave and graceful Pause, the Man  
More reverence had won, with friendly Eye  
He first their Welcome looked: then thus began  
To speak it out: Though Silence suits with my  
Devout Profession, more than Words, yet now  
To Courtesies strong Law my Tongue must bow,   

202.  
If I to strangers should not Kindness show,  
I should affront that Lord who owned Me  
A stranger unto Him. Yet please to know  
That I profess not by my Industry  
To have arrived unto any pitch  
In that wherein you take Me to be rich,   

203.  
Alas, Agyrtes had as sottish been  
As is the vilest he that sees the light,  
Had heavens sweet Rays not deigned to intervene  
Between my Heart, and Ignorances' Night.  
But Jesus who is King of Love, as well  
As Wisdom, pleased with both my Breast to fill.   

204.  
Yet this no other Wisdom is, than what  
Concerns Him, and his Heaven, wherefore if you  
For any other look from me, but that,  
You must go seek where Vanity doth grow.  
That, that, or none, sweet Sir, said Psyche; We  
Would only in heavens Wisdom learned be.   

205.  
This yielding Answer made Him smile within,  
And promise to his proud Heart, Victory:  
Yet to make sure, and grace, his holy Sin,  
To Heaven he turned his hell-directed Eye,  
And lifting up his Hands, seemed thence to take  
The Copy of what now he meant to speak.   

206.  
With that, upon the ready Grass, which there  
Offered its gentle service, they sat down.  
Then thus Agyrtes: Though you Strangers are,  
Your holy Wish, thus far has made you known,  
That I perceive you are not yet to be  
Informed there is a Christ, and Piety.   

207.  
But as the noblest Things besieged are  
With greatest Difficulties, so is this:  
Religion, and Truth yet never were  
Enthroned so high, but saucy Wickedness  
Would muster Errors round about them, and  
Before their face in flat Defiance stand.   

208.  
Yet, if in great Cerinthu's School you were  
Ever a Candidate, I need not strive  
To open my Bottles to your Thirst, who there  
All Fullness from the Fountain did receive.  
My School, cried Psyche, gentle Sir, alas,  
Only in blind and barbarous Albion was.   

209.  
Know then, said He, that when Heaven planted had  
Its blessed Gospel in our World below,  
Ten thousand Weeds a conjuration made  
To choke it when it first began to grow;  
The Blade no sooner peeped forth, but there  
These poisonous Tyrants straight did domineer   

210.  
And surely all the Harvest Hopes had been  
Slain in their Birth had Jesus tender Care  
Into his Field not sent Cerinthus: Sin  
The Crop even in the Spring began to shear,  
And Truth her infant Head sought where to hide;  
So rampant Error was, and spread so wide.   

211.  
But this brave Gardner with his prudent Hook  
Cut those Intruders down, and cleared the ground;  
The Churches Soil straight like itself did look,  
And reskewed Truth full room to flourish found,  
The mystic 〈◊〉 began to be  
From the insidious Serpent's Dangers free.   

212.  
The reverend Law whose flaming Majesty  
Flashed from Sina, now broke out again;  
And chase all licentious Mists, which by  
heretic Sloth had gained Religions Rein,  
Mingled its Lustre with the Gospel's Ray,  
And doubled fair Truths most unspotted Day.   

213.  
Blind Ignorance was grown so bold, that she  
Sought to persuade the World it had no Eyes;  
Making the Lazy Name of Mystery,  
In stead of Demonstration suffice.  
From this black Pit those monstrous Prodigies  
Of hoodwinked, and abused Faith did rise.   

214.  
Who can imagine Heaven would e'er obtrude  
Upon the Faith of Reasonable Men,  
That which against all Reason doth conclude,  
And founded is on Contradiction?  
Sure God so strange a Law did never give,  
That Men must not be Men, if they Believe,   

215.  
No, 'twas not God, but Man, who made that Law,  
And by enacting it, usurped more  
Than Godlike Power on those he won to bow  
Their Superstitious Necks to this new Lore,  
By which to brutish Sottishness they are  
Enslaved, who free by Christian Title were.   

216.  
'Tis not enough, forsooth, that We believe  
Mary the Mother was to Jesus; but  
Into the bargain too We must receive  
That she a Virgin still remained. And what  
More ready Way, her Son's Birth to deny,  
Than by continuing her Virginity?   

217.  
If she a Mother be, she must be so  
But if a Virgin, she a Virgin is:  
And he that can in One tie up these 〈◊〉  
May reconcile the Poles into a Kiss  
May Midnight in the face of 〈◊〉 throw,  
May cement in one Centre I and No,   

218.  
Yet well it were, had Mary been alone  
The subject of this holy Nonsense; But  
With greater impudence upon her Son  
It ventured, and madly forging what  
All Rational Creatures cannot but Detest,  
This, as the sacred Rule of Faith professed.   

219.  
For though the Marvell-mongers grant that He  
Was moulded up but of a Mortal Metal,  
And that his Substance was the same which we  
Find in ourselves to be so weak and 〈◊〉:  
Yet an eternal God they make Him too,  
And angry are that We will not do 〈◊〉   

220.  
(Thus the acquaint Madnesie of a dreaming Brain  
Holds the same Thing a Mountain, and a Mite;  
Fancies the Sun, Lights royal Sovereign,  
To look like swarthy, and ignoble Night;  
Imagines wretched Worms, although it see  
Them crawl in Dirt, illustrious Kings to be.)   

221.  
But Heaven forbid, that we should so 〈◊〉  
And think our God as poor a Thing as We  
How can Eternity be born in Time  
How can Infinitude a Baby be?  
Or how can Heaven and Earth's almighty Lord  
To Egypt fly for rear of Herod's Sword   

222.  
Can He be hungry who doth All Things feed?  
Can it become the King of Joy to weep?  
Can He the God of Spirits, refreshment need?  
Can He who is all Eye, e'er fall asleep?  
Can Man, the Prince of Power Crucify?  
Can He, Life's everlasting Fountain, die?   

223.  
Such Gods as these indeed were Jupiter,  
Mars, Saturn, Neptune, Mercury, Apollo,  
And all that Rout to whom the Pagans rear  
Their cursed Altars: And must we go follow  
Such goodly Leaders, and our Pleasure take  
Religion worse than Atheism to make?   

224.  
Sure God is much beholden unto them  
Whose glorious Faith hath been so careful to  
Heap all those vile Indignities on Him  
Which they Themselves abhor to undergo.  
If God be such a wretched Thing, no more  
Will I, (and 'tis no proud Word) Him adore.   

225.  
But He is as Impassable as They  
Would make him weak and poor: He cannot bow  
To yield his high almighty Self a Prey  
To our Infirmities who crawl below:  
His superglorious most refined Nature  
As far from Suffering is, as from a Creature.   

226.  
I know they strive to mince the Matter by  
Distinguishing His Natures; for their Art  
Being ashamed of no Absurdity,  
Himself from his own Self presumes to part.  
Yet we durst not admit a Deity,  
Which must on a Distinction builded be.   

227.  
But how much more than mad their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
And how transcending Pagan Blasphemy,  
Who not content to make a God of this  
Both 〈◊〉, and mortal Jesus; try  
To thrust him into one Substantial Knot  
With his eternal Sire who him begot!   

228.  
Two, yet not Two, but One these Two must be,  
Nay and a Third into the Knot they bring;  
The Spirit must come in to make up Three,  
And yet tnese Three be but One single Thing.  
Thus fast and loose they play, or even and oda,  
And we a juggling Trick must have for God   

229.  
If God be One; then let him be so still:  
Why jumble We We know not what together?  
Did all the World not know their God, until  
This old Blind Age discovered Him? Did neither  
The Patriarches Believe, nor Prophets See  
Aright, because they took not One for Three?   

230.  
I and my Brethren are full well content  
T' aspire unto no other Paradise  
Than that to which those Holy Hero's went,  
Whose Faith knew no such curious Prodigies.  
No; Faith's a grave and sober Maid, and she  
Loves neither Quirk, nor Trick, nor Forgery.   

231.  
Let Love and Duty make of Christ as high  
And glorious a Thing as Wit can reach,  
Provided that against the Deity  
No injury nor Sacrilege they preach;  
If only on such Terms He loved may be,  
Him to neglect is Piety, say We.   

232.  
But We neglect him not, who merits more  
Of Us, than all our Reverence can pay:  
Our Necks we bow unto his gentle Lore,  
And his Commands ambitiously obey:  
Love is his blessed Law; and hated be  
Those who contemn so sweet a Lord as Herald   

233.  
You see how freely our Profession We  
Impart to Strangers; being confident  
That honest Truth can never shamed be.  
Yet whether you will bow down your consent  
Unto our Doctrines, I uncertain am;  
And therefore will no further lavish them.   

234.  
For if your Faith relies on Men, who are  
Themselves but founded and built up of Dust;  
If you by Reason's Rule disdain to square  
Your Piety, and take your God on Trust,  
(Which Heaven forbid;) you only are a Prize  
Unto Impostors fair-tongued Fallacies.   

235.  
He ceased here. When Logos louting low  
His fawning head to Psyche, gave her Joy  
That she had met so grave a Doctor now,  
Whose radiant Knowledge might light her the way  
To genaine Truth through those thick Fogs which here  
Make dim and black Religion's Hemisphere.   

236.  
And take good heed said He, sweet Madam, that  
You serve Him not as you Authades did:  
O what substantial Arguments, and what  
Religious Motives hath he mustered  
In this concise Discourse, whose depth might well  
Be owned by the holiest Oracle.   

237.  
Psyche, whose tender Heart not long ago  
Would have abhorr'd this venomous Language more  
Than doth the Lamb the Wolf, or Lion, who  
Nothing but barbarous Death to it doth roar;  
Had now forgot her pious jealous fear,  
And knew not what it meant to be aware,   

238.  
Haeretick Poison she already had  
Sucked from Authades; which no sooner won  
Her fond Heart's Approbation, but it made  
An open Channel for more streams to run  
Into Her Bosom: Thus an Army by  
One little Breach pours in its Victory.   

239.  
She yields to swallow the Cerinthian Bait,  
And thanks unto her Murderer strives to pay.  
Dear Sir, said she, your solid Reason's Weight  
Doth on my Heart such sound Persuasion lay,  
That needs it must submit, and study how  
To be for ever grateful unto you.   

240.  
Scarce had she spoke, but lo her Doctor who  
Espied Phylax flying thither, took  
His hasty leave; but passed his Promise to  
Meet her again, and bade her for him look  
The next day there: Alas the Cheater was  
Afraid the Angel might his Frand uncase.   

241.  
But as away he sneaked; Psyche's ' Friend  
More swift than flies the Eagle to her Prey,  
The whining Air with sprightful Wings did rend,  
And shot himself through the directest way  
To his dear Charge, for whom his Heart did quake,  
As knowing well what Tempests hers did shake.   

242.  
For by Love's faithful Sympathy (though he  
About his other work far distant were,)  
He still preserved a soft Vicinity  
With Psyche's Soul, and felt each wound which there  
Sophistick Darts had made, though foolish she  
Perceived not her sugared Misery.   

243.  
At his approach, for joy the Virgin wept,  
Not thinking that those tears to shame were due.  
Syneideses still in her bosom slept,  
And her unto herself forbore to show:  
She to her own Breast was more stranger than  
The Tartar to the AEthiopian.   

244.  
But Phylax almost out of breath for haste,  
Sucked in fresh spirits, and then demanded who  
It was that gathered up his heels so fast,  
And fled from his approach: If he had no  
Cause of his flight, but me, 'tis meet that I,  
Said he, suspect him for you Enemy.   

245.  
No sure, replied Psyche; for nor I  
Nor Logos could discover aught but love:  
He freely taught Us many a verity,  
And what he undertook, did clearly prove.  
Some sudden business snatched him hence, not fear  
Of you, whom doubtless He doth hold most dear.   

246.  
Phylax, who knew Him and Authades too,  
The total matter gently sifted out,  
And wrought upon his Pupils softness so  
That his design He subtly brought about;  
For full confession from her charmed tongue  
Of both her Doctor's Principles he wrung.   

247.  
But then He groaned, and smote his pitying Breast,  
And fixed upon Hers his speaking eye,  
By which the mixed language He expressed  
Of Love and Wrath, of Hope, and Jealousy;  
And by this Prologue setting open the door,  
He from his Lips his troubled Mind did pour:   

248.  
Left I my charge, o Psyche, to the Wind,  
When hence I took my journey, or to thee?  
If in my dearest Cabinet, thy Mind,  
I my advice deposed, why must it be  
That the weak breath of any Charmer Thou  
Dost meet, that holy Pawn away may blow?   

249.  
My heart mis-gave me, when away I went,  
Or rather when with thine I left it here;  
Full well thou know'st what earnest pains I spent  
To arm thy tender Soul with sacred fear:  
O why, with foolish confidence wouldst thou  
Disarm thyself, and make room for the blow?   

250.  
That blow, which struck so deep into thy breast,  
That if some sovereign Balsam makes not speed;  
If straight thy wounded Bosom be not dressed;  
If Heaven be not as quick, new life to shed  
Into thy Soul, as Hell was to betray  
It unto Death, this is thy fatal Day.   

251.  
Alas those Doctrines only Poisons were  
Squeezed from the dregs of the infernal Pit;  
Less Pestilential those Venom's are  
Which desperate Basilisks and Vipers spit:  
Nor Aphrodisiu's, nor Agenor's tongue  
With such sure bane thy careless Bosom stung.   

252.  
Canst thou o Psyche thus thy Lord repay  
For all the Treasures of his Love which He  
Into thy poor heart poured day by day?  
Canst thou rob Jesus of his Deity,  
And tear Him from his Throne, whilst royal He  
His heavenly Kingdom doth prepare for thee?   

253.  
Pert Logos here no longer Patience had,  
But setting up his insolent crest, he cried,  
Good sir, and take you me for one so mad,  
That in my proper road I cannot ride,  
But both my Self and Way, I needs must lose,  
And willingly deep Precipies choose?   

254.  
If Eyes of Colours sober Judges be;  
If Tongues can censure what is sour and sweet;  
If Ears can Discords know from Harmony;  
If Touching may decide in Cold and Heat;  
Why may not I presume that I am set  
In Reason's Chair, and know the Powers of it?   

255.  
Unless I to my Essence give the Lie,  
These Doctrines sure are built on Demonstration:  
But if you only must be Psyche's eye,  
Even pull me out, that I no perturbation  
Thus in the way of your designs may throw;  
So in your Conquest you complete shall grow.   

256.  
Psyche was glad to hear this Challenge beat  
So high, and hoped that Phylax would relent:  
And were Angelic Loves Heroic Heat  
Less resolute than it is, just discontent  
Had quenched Phyla'x flames, which now by this  
Bold opposition did more stoutly rise.   

257.  
With secret instance he did Charis draw  
Down from her Heaven, to join her Powers with his:  
She, when the Virgin's wounded Heart she saw,  
Melted with Pity at her deep Distress;  
And by victorious Sweetness opened a way  
Into her Breast, and Thelema made her Prey.   

258.  
Which Phylax seeing: Logos strives in vain  
Said He, to countermine my care of Thee:  
Greater Affronts than these I can sustain,  
Rather than Psyche should destroyed be.  
All this, and more, I will forget, so Thou  
Wilt go, and see a Sight I have to show,   

259.  
Logos looked big, and struggled might and main;  
But Thelema was tractable and tame,  
And the bold Rebel quickly did constrain  
Unto her pliant Mind his own to frame,  
Poor Psyche sighed and wept, and half afraid,  
Phylax with her to do his pleasure prayed.   

260.  
He well considering her Disease had need  
Of nothing more than Haste in her Physician,  
Stayed not to parley, but made all loving speed  
To snatch her from these Jaws of deep Perdition,  
Whilst yet with Chari's soule-subduing Heat  
Her melted and convicted Heart did beat.   

261.  
Ready at hand his well-known Chariot was,  
In which he takes her up, and guides the Rein;  
Forth with the sprightful Steeds flung on apace  
Through the fair Road of the aereal Plain,  
Till they to Gitton in Samaria came,  
Their journeys Butt, where Phylax checked Them.   

262.  
Then lighting down, Come Psyche, come, said he,  
This is thy newfound Doctors native Town;  
Here thou their true Original shalt see,  
And from what kind of Nest they all are flown.  
This House their Fathers was: Come we will in,  
And view the Birth-place of Heretic Sin.   

263.  
Thus entered They: When lo the House they find  
So full of Doors, and Rooms, and Galleries,  
Which by acquaint Turnings to and fro did wind,  
That Psyche quickly lost her rolling Eyes,  
As she had done her See fe, had Phylax not  
Of all the Labyrinth full knowledge got.   

264.  
Through a thousand strange Meanders He  
Into a private Room conducted her  
Where she a far more private Door did see,  
But little thought what kind of Den was there  
Lurking behind it, so alluring was  
The holy Beauty of its cheating Face.   

265.  
A goodly Crucifix was there displayed,  
Altars were reared, and many Bible's open,  
By which majestic Liturgies were laid,  
With lofty-tuned Anthems; on the Top  
Art placed a Choir of Angels hover,  
And made the gorgeous Roof all seem to sing.   

266.  
There might you see Faith, with her Eagles Eye;  
Hope with both Hands her Anchor holding fast;  
And with her open Bosom, Charity;  
Whose Looks such seeming current Beams did cast,  
That those who were not well aware, might deem  
She at heavens genuine Fires had kindled them.   

267.  
With these; Religion stood, Zeal, Piety  
Devotion, Meekness, Patience, Gentleness,  
And whatsoever might advantageous be  
The brave Imposture gallantly to dress:  
Baits which might easily work a greater feat,  
Then Psyche s soft Simplicity to cheat.   

268.  
What credit thou to these fair Looks mayst give,  
Said Phylax, Thou shalt see when I have shown  
What monstrous ugliness these Porters strive  
To countenance: With that he bent his Frown  
On the enchanting Company, and they  
To his imperious Anger strait gave way.   

269.  
Aside They started; and so did the Door;  
When lo an horrid Cave appeared beneath,  
Which forth a Stream of 〈◊〉 and Stink did pour,  
Amazing Psyche with its dismal Breath;  
Deep was the Pit, and full of darkest Fright,  
Seeming the Bed chamber of sullen Night.   

270.  
But Phylax shot from his illustrious Fie  
Such potent lightning as brake through that Cloud;  
When lo about the Caverns sides, a Fry  
Of frighted Toads into their Holes did crowd;  
And thousand Spiders at the Sight aghast,  
Into the centres of their Webs made haste.   

271.  
But o what Mans, or Muse's Tongue can tell  
The other Monsters which were hissing there!  
Huge Snakes, fierce Vipers, angry Adders, fell  
And fiery Hydra's all discovered were,  
With Cockatrices, Scorpions, Dragons, and  
Of 〈◊〉 Chimaeras a full marshaled Band.   

272.  
Yet these all fled before the Angel's face,  
And in their several Dens loud howling lay:  
But He intended for a further place,  
And with these lesser Monsters made no stay;  
Forward unto another door He goes,  
Where far more poisonous things He doth disclose.   

273.  
Glozing Deceits, and handsome Lies stood there,  
With gentle meek demure Hypocrisy;  
And these in goodly state attended were  
By treacherous Rhetoric and Philosophy;  
But their chief train with Syllogisms was filled,  
Who in their hands three-forked Halberds held.   

274.  
Yet all their Might fallen flat upon the ground,  
And gave the mightier Angel leave to pass,  
Who entering by that damned Pontal, found  
To such a Porch a correspondent place:  
The stinks He met before, pure odours were  
To those which reeked in every corner here.   

275.  
The Master of the House, grave Simon, who  
Wore Magus for his cursed surname, sat  
Full in the midst; whose poisoned stomach so  
Surcharged was with crude-opinions, that  
Its pestilential Load which belched and wrought,  
Into an ample Bowl He spewed out.   

276.  
This the rude indigested Chaos was  
Wherein all Heresies did jumbled lie;  
The fertile Womb which their original Place  
Did give to every kind of Blasphemy;  
The Seed and Matter whence sins foul Creator  
Produced every Monstrous-shaped nature.   

277.  
As smoking in the Bowl this Vomit lay,  
A Crowd of desperate Men thronged round about,  
Whose most accursed thirst did them betray  
To covet this foul Draught: The scalding drought  
Of the pursued Deer breeds less desire  
In some cool spring to quench his raging fire.   

278.  
Menander got the first Sup; He who by  
That cankering liquor so infected grew,  
That Simon He out-spit in Heresy,  
And higher than his Spewing Father flew;  
Much he disdained that God or Man should be  
Nobler (at least in's own conceit) than Herald   

279.  
Ceninthus next lapped up his share, and then  
His hungry Younglings with the venom fed;  
Amongst whom Agyrtes sucked his Part, whom when  
Psyche beheld, Gild died her Cheeks with red.  
But Ebion thrusting in, took off her eye,  
He Scriptures Mangler, foe of Purity.   

280.  
Yet Nicolas, who came next, was worse than He,  
And drunk so deep, that of all foulest lust  
He turned Professor, and deserved to be 
Apoc. 2. 7   
The hate of God Behind him Elxai thrust,  
And bold Jexeus, brethren no less  
In nature, than in lustful Putidness.   

281.  
Then Saturnine, whose draught so strangely wrought,  
That he judgd Purity itself impure;  
Chaste Matrimony He abhorred, as fraught  
With shameful odiousness; nor would endure  
His lip should blush in any Creatures blood,  
All which he held were never made for food.   

282.  
Yet straight Basilides from the same fount  
Contrary poison drunk; All lust was clean,  
Yea commendable too in his account.  
And the same relish had the liquor in  
Carpocrates his Mouth, and Valentins,  
The Oracles of all libidinous sins.   

283.  
From these great Parents came that numerous Spawn  
Of most portentous Gnostics, Antitacts,  
Ptolemaits, Ophites, Cainites: Monsters known  
By the Profession of such shameless Facts  
As Hell would blush at; which yet unto them  
Truths and Religion's Purity did seem   

284.  
Next these, about the bowls brim licking lay  
The Nazarenes, amongst whose sneaking fire  
Were both Pseudagius and Authades; They  
Who tainted Psyche with their Heresy.  
No sooner she beheld them, but her breast  
She smote, and by the stroke her fault confessed.   

285.  
But after these appeared the Marcosites  
Epiphanes, Secundus, Isidore;  
Bold Cordonists, and fond Heracleonites  
Martion, Apelles, with blasphemous store  
Of their Disciples; Lucan, Luciun,  
Photinus, Basiliscus, Hermogen.   

286.  
Then proud Montanus; with Quintilians',  
Ascites, Pepuzians; and Artotyrites,  
Priscillians, Pharisaik, Tatians,  
Abstemious yet profane Severianites;  
Archontiks, Adamites, Quartadecimans,  
Fond Alogists, and Melchisedekians.   

287.  
Tertullianists, Arabiks, Symmachists,  
Homousiasts, Elxites, Origenians,  
Valesians, and presumptuous Catharists,  
Hydroparastates, Patripassians.  
Apostoliks', Angeliks', Chiliasts,  
Samosatenian Paulianists.   

288.  
Mad Manichees, outrageous Donatists,  
Cursed Arians, Colluthians, Audianites,  
Shameless Photinians, Macedonianists,  
Acrians, Acacians, Eustathites:  
Eunomians, Messalians, Luciferians,  
Hypsistarists, Agnoites, Apollinarians.   

289.  
Timotheans, Seleucians', Collyridians',  
New coined Priscillians, with Proclianites:  
Foul-mouthed Jovinianists, and black Helvidians;  
Bonosians, Campensians, Agapites;  
Pelagius, Nestorius, Eutyches,  
Accompanied with all their Progenies.   

290.  
Innumerable more besides were there,  
Whose several Poisons Nature Phylax read  
Unto his Pupil, though they never were  
As yet unto the world discovered:  
But as these Petty Vermin She did view,  
A mighty Prodigy its dread did show.   

291.  
Up starta Man of such commanding Look,  
That all these awed Suckers gave Him way:  
Three times his mighty Head and Locks He shook,  
Three times He stooped, and seemed too proud to lay  
His lips so low; yet bowing down at length,  
Upon the Bowl He showed his cursed Strength:   

292.  
For every Drop of the foul Vomit He  
Strait swallowed up, and kicked the Bowl away  
When lo the Venoms rampant potency  
Did in the desperate Man itself display;  
Both in his eyes, and all about his face,  
infernal Horror freely took its place.   

293.  
A pair of Horns broke from his fiery Brow,  
And from his mouth impatient Blasphemy;  
Big with all rancorous Spite his Breast did grow,  
His Soul was stretched with arrogant Majesty:  
Nor was it wonder that He thus did swell,  
Who had engorged and drunken was with Hell,   

294.  
With Mouth wide open He swore aloud that He  
Would make the whole World to his pleasure bow;  
He threatened all heavens starry Bravery  
Down from their highest strongest Orbs to draw;  
He vowed by his own Head, no God should be  
Thenceforth believed, nor adored, but Herald   

295.  
With that, his fists of burning Brass He bent,  
And lifted up his more than Dragon's Tail,  
As if with this Artillery He meant  
The Universe's Powers to assail;  
Nor was his Insolence in vain, for He  
From Heaven itself snatched down his Victory.   

296.  
From th' evangelic Heaven He boldly drew  
Millions of Souls, whom He in sunder tore,  
Or with his Breathes most murdering venom slew;  
Bellowing his Triumph in a dismal Roar.  
Strait the Heretic Fry began to quake,  
Simon himself did start, and Psyche shake.   

297.  
But Phylax to allay her storm of fear,  
Told her the Monsters Pride yet knew a Rein,  
For mark, said He, He is a prisoner here,  
And cannot break that Adamantine Chain  
Which Him and all his viperous Company  
Though at some distance, fast to Hell doth tie.   

298.  
She looked and saw her Guardian told her true:  
She saw the Chain, which to a Pit did lead  
Whence thich sulphureous eructations flew  
And brought up mingled streams of boiling Lead  
She frighted at the sight, fled back; but He  
What in that Bottom lay, led her to see.   

299.  
Sheltered by his stout Wings Security,  
And by his trusty Word encouraged,  
Into the dismal Grott she sent her eye,  
Which there a more prodigious Object read  
Than She before had seen in the foul Book  
Of hideous Antichrists portentous Look   

300.  
It was that Beldame Hag from whose black Breast  
Simon his rank unwieldy Poison drew  
Never was fury so completely dressed  
In all the Bravery of Horrors hue;  
All shapeless shapes together tumbled were  
To make up Shames Extremity in Her.   

301.  
Two Heads She had, which on her Leg● did grow  
Two faces, and two Mouths, but not one Eye,  
Six rows of teeth which constantly did gnaw  
All they could of her Carkaise reach: Her Thigh●  
From an eternal Sore did poison drop  
Into her throat, which thence again spewed up   

302.  
The Vermin which did all about Her swarn  
Young Adders, Slow-worms Toads, and Spiders were,  
Two lumps of black flesh hung for either Arm  
An hundred Nails upon each hand did tear  
Her dangling Duggs and when they weary grew  
Them o'er her shoulders to her back they threw   

303.  
But from her Neck a twisted Tail did sprout  
Armed with a thousand forked Stings which she  
For her own torture used and round about  
Herself its Lashes threw; Her bunched Knee●  
Did backward bend; and for her feet below.  
Out at her belly seven short Paws did grow   

304.  
As Psyche trembled at this basefull sight  
Behold, said Phylax, and consider well  
Whither brisk Logo's judgement were to right.  
Who hath engaged thy poisoned Heart to dwell  
In this fine Lady's family. for she  
Is Grandam to that monstrous Progeny   

305.  
Since Thou hast made thy choice, and scorned Me  
And my Advice; go take thy chosen place  
Or in Pseudagius his Company  
Or in Agyrte's: Nay do not disgrace  
Thy learned Prudence so as to retract  
Judicious Logos will not like the fact   

306.  
Poor Logos heard this Word; which through his Heart  
Shot such deep Shame and Grief, that thenceforth He  
Resolved never more to trust 〈◊〉 Art  
Where it with Phylax's mind did disagree.  
But yet in Psyche's tender Breast, the Wound  
More stinging was, more fataly profound.   

307.  
Prostrate before his face, in silence She  
Grappled a while with her outrageous Grief;  
But when She saw the woeful Victory  
Growing upon her, and found no relief  
In her own Soul; She mingles with her Sighs,  
Her Declarations, and thus She cries:   

308.  
Alas, Pseudagiu's or Agyrte's place  
Is too too happy and too high for Me  
That dreadful Hags prodigious Embrace  
Is more than due to my Apostasy;  
I fully have deserved that She should hug  
Me with her Tail, and feed Me with her Dug   

309.  
For, Had Pseudagiu's or Agyrte's Heart  
Like mine, been by a Phylax fortified,  
No Mines nor 〈◊〉 of Heretic Art  
Had won their forts: But I by sottish Pride,  
Disdained the potent Help of thy Supply,  
And chose on my own Weakness to rely.   

310.  
I fain would pardon beg; but mighty Shame  
Seals up my Mouth, and Gild beats back my breath,  
I fain would invocate His gracious Name  
Who gave his Life to rescue Me from Death;  
But Horror stifles my Endeavour, who  
In spite of Him, to this my Death would go.   

311.  
But thou sweet Phylax never didst displease  
His Mighty Majesty, nor force his frown,  
Sealed sure on Thee his endless favour is,  
And thy Desires He with Success will crown  
If Thou wist plead for Me, though not for mine  
He will for thy dear Sake his Ear incline   

312.  
I know my Impudence is high, who dare,  
Beg thus much favour of abused Thee;  
But thy brave Charity delights to war  
Against the most perverse Conspiracy  
Or my Demerits; witness its divine  
Battle against Agenor's Pride and Mine   

〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 from thy 〈◊〉 I 〈◊〉  
By hold and traitorous 〈◊〉  
May I amongst these 〈◊〉 have my part  
Of my already-carned Misery;  
And may thy Wing no more for me be 〈◊〉.  
No more thy 〈…〉   

314.  
〈◊〉 her 'twixt trembling Hop. and 〈◊〉  
〈…〉 her 〈…〉.  
〈◊〉 the rest by Looks that both his 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 she might engage. I his 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 unto the 〈◊〉 was.  
〈◊〉 her up and had 〈…〉   

〈◊〉  
 
And with the illue trust my 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Into 〈◊〉 paths you 〈…〉  
Who more 〈◊〉 Eyes 〈◊〉 I 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
 
  

316.  
Then by her Hand 〈…〉  
And 〈◊〉 up the 〈◊〉 by which He 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 The 〈…〉  
And 〈◊〉 for joy that 〈◊〉 was 〈◊〉 by them;  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 from their 〈◊〉 again  
〈◊〉 after Him, and 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XVI. The Antidote.  
ARGUMENT.  

To purge out that Heretic Bane, which now  
Lay rankling in his Pupils cheated Breast,  
Phylax Ecclesia's Court to her doth show;  
Where by Truth's delicate Embrace being blest,  
She soon perceived her Cure, and how the 〈◊〉  
Of Catholic health in her sound Pulse did 〈◊〉,   

1.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Man, why dost thou tread  
So proudly on the Worm which crawls 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 that on thy erected Head  
Much more 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 doth 〈◊〉  
Than ever made the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
The footstool of Contempt to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

〈◊〉  
Are not the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Whence Thou dost 〈…〉  
The foul and only 〈◊〉 which 〈◊〉 bring  
Forth 〈◊〉, her 〈…〉  
Though Flesh and 〈…〉  
  

3.  
Sage nature at the Moment of thy Birth  
Made Thee Lament, when yet Thou knewst not why,  
Being with Pollution tumbled headlong forth  
Into the Stage of thy Life's Tragedy,  
With full assurance that thou there must be  
First vexed, and then slain by Mortality.   

4.  
The meanest Creature that e'er saw the light,  
Was richer born, and stronger far than thou;  
Completely shiftless was thy native Plight,  
And did no manner of selfe-succor know:  
Naked thou wert of every Help beside,  
As well's of Clothes thy woeful shame to hide.   

5.  
With Cares and Fears in thy young Education  
Thy troubled Parent traveled again;  
Her Bowels yearned with as true Perturbation,  
As when they stretched with puerperial Pain:  
It being but extension of thy Birth,  
To Bring thee up, as she had Brought Thee forth.   

6.  
How cross, how wayward, and how peevish were  
Thy feeble Years, when thou couldst only fight  
With thy rebellious Will, and vex the Care  
Of thy dear Nurse with sullen froward Spite!  
All other Twigs will freely bend; but Thou  
Alone, though young, hadst rather Break, than Bow.   

7.  
The Rod drives Thee to School, and keeps thee there;  
Where thou good Institution dost Embrace  
Not out of Love, but most ignoble Fear:  
So the wild stubborn Coit is taught to pace,  
When dreadful A we does force Him to submit  
Not to the Rider, but his Whip, and Bit.   

8.  
But as the Tinder never fails to catch  
The smallest Spark, although it certain be  
To burn with it: So doth thy Madness snatch  
At every glistering Sin and Vanity,  
And hug it close, although the treacherous Guest  
Be sure to kindle Hell-fire in thy Breast.   

9  
When riper years to manly Acts invite  
Thy well-grown Soul, thou dost its Strength employ.  
In the soft trade of amorous Delight,  
Of bitter Sweets, of delicate Annoy,  
Of fawning Rhymes, of witty Fooleries,  
Of dainty Perjuries, of smiling Lies.   

10.  
To Sheers and Needle Thou thyself enslavest  
And at the mercy art of each new Cut,  
And upstart Garb: Yet when thou in thy bravest  
Some most belaced Servitude dost strut,  
Some newer Fashion doth usurp, and thou  
Unto its antic Yoke durst not but bow.   

11.  
Thus through a thousand Shapes thou art content  
To crowd thyself, Her favour to obtain  
Who is as Various as the Compliment  
Of thine uncertain Fashions; every plain  
And right-down 〈◊〉 thou shun'st, and so doth she;  
Thy Body and Her Mind still changing be.   

12.  
Yet thou inshrin'st in thy devoted Breast  
Her idolised Idea: Night and Day  
Thou mak'st thy thoughtful Self her Zealous Priest,  
And dost thy foolish Sacrifices pay:  
For every Lineament, and every Part  
Of her, thou mak'st divine in thy fond Heart.   

13.  
A Curl of silly feeble Hair, which is  
The Sport and Scorn of every idle Wind,  
Like to some adamantine Chain can seize  
And captivate thy most unmanly Mind;  
Which vain Captivity of thine alone  
Makes Hair wear Locks denomination.   

14.  
Her. Motions, and her Gestures traversed are  
By thy admiring Thoughts, and Thou dar'st vow  
That silver Venus through her limpid Sphere  
Swims with less gagliardise, and knows not how  
So well to justify her Style, and prove  
Herself the Queen of soft leggiadrous Love.   

15.  
Thy Soul Thou pourest out as a free Oblation  
On her smooth lip, thy Altar of delight,  
Whence thou receiv'st with joyous adoration  
The Blessings of her Kiss. Her calmy Sight  
Thou think'st thy Heaven, and in her smiling Eye!  
Readst all the Sweets of thy Fool's Paradise.   

16.  
But if a coy Frown, or denying Glance  
Becloud that Hemisphere of thy fond Bliss;  
How are thy Comforts cast into a Trance  
Of knawing Dread, and anxious Distress!  
Happy, in earnest happy, Thou mightst prove  
Couldst thou so much thy God or Fear, or Love.   

17.  
When thou in Matrimonial Bands art tied,  
(Bands which will only by Deaths Sith be cut,  
Although they seem as soft as did thy Bride,)  
From thine own Freedom thou dost freely shut  
Thyself, not knowing but that yoke to thee  
May prove more heavy than Virginity.   

18.  
Thou saw'st but half thy Mistress, all those years  
Thou drov'st so hot the Wooer's blinded trade,  
And hadst full power to Take or Leave: but Fears  
And Doubts are now too late, since Thou hast made  
The bargain up; not all the World can ease thee;  
Content thou must be, though she doth not please thee.   

19  
If she proves Barren, who is thus thy Spouse,  
Alas, Such are thy Hopes and Joys; If she  
With numerous issue fill thine eyes and house,  
What warrant halt that these will Blessings be?  
They 〈◊〉 may be Bad, nor canst thou tell  
But thou hast helped to empeople Hell.   

20.  
No Bed so thick with Thorns did ever grow,  
As does the Nuptial: what large Crops of Cares  
In every time and season doth it show!  
How fertile is it in perpetual Fears!  
In Winter and in Summer it doth bear,  
And spreads it Harvest over all the year.   

21.  
But if Thou art content to be a dry  
And Fruitless Tree, and dost thyself contain  
In the severe Bounds of Virginity;  
Intestine War will in thy bosom reigh,  
And Legions of Temptations always be  
In Arms against thy single Chastity.   

22.  
Thy fair Estate will call loud for an Heir,  
So will thy Name. and natural Philauty;  
So will the thought of crazy Age, and Fear  
Of wanting an unfeigned Friends supply  
When years shall downward bow thee to thy grave,  
And Cormorants gape for that which thou shalt leave.   

23.  
The World will heap on thy Severity  
Bold Imputations, and judge that thou  
Dealst underhand for what should purchased be  
In open legal manner; Or will grow  
Into 〈◊〉, pertinacity  
Doth scorn all Females, or all Females thee.   

24.  
Wouldst thou be Rich? through the tempestuous Seas  
Within three Inches of thy Death must thou  
Sail from thy quiet Home, and ever be  
At the disposal of all Winds that blow;  
Then must thou delve, and unto Hell draw near,  
Before to thee thy Pluins will appear.   

25.  
Where though thou dost thy largest Coffers fill,  
Thy Heart's as poor, and empty as before:  
The cursed thirst of Gold grows hotter still,  
Although all Indus thou on it dost pour.  
The peevish Itch thus proves more fruitful when  
Thou rubb'st and strivest with the tainted skin.   

26.  
And now thou who before couldst safely sleep,  
For fear of Robbers break'st thy nightly rest;  
About thy Bags thy thoughtful heart doth keep  
Perpetual watch. Unhappy fool! at least.  
Consider, though thy Gold thou hold'st so fast,  
Thyself thou canst not, who must die at last.   

27.  
Die, die thou must, and an account give up  
Of all the store which thou hast hoarded here:  
Those Bags on which thy heart did build its Hope  
But rich and heavy Torments will appear;  
And thou shalt bless their Poverty who had  
No Reckonings to make up when they were Dead.   

28.  
Is Poverty thy Lot? Then look to be  
The helpless Butt of Wrong and of Disgrace:  
Thy joints must buckle to hard Industry;  
Continual Sweat must reek upon thy face;  
Yet wanting what should fill, and hide thy skin,  
Thou shalt without be naked, and within.   

29.  
If thou to thy assistance Vice dost call,  
And by thy sins thy Fortunes hop'st to mend;  
Thou diggst a Pit wherein thyself must fall,  
And to thy hellish Foes dost Succour lend;  
Thou spendst thine only stock, and hast'st to be  
A woeful Bankrupt to Eternity.   

30.  
If thou a rich-descended Heir art born,  
'Tis odds, but that thy Birth doth thee 〈◊〉:  
Such wealth its duty thinketh it to scorn  
In Industries laborious Paths to go:  
'Tis Worth enough, if a young Gallant can  
Look big, Luxuriate, and write Gentleman.   

31.  
In Learning's Lists dost thou Desire to try  
Thy Strength? this makes all Ignorants thy Foes;  
(And they well-neer are All.) yet couldst Thou fly  
Their reach and Envy; still intestine Woes  
Will drown thy learned Joys, which needs must be,  
(Witness great Solomon) stinging Vanity.   

32.  
Dar'st Thou Scorn Arts? then dar'st Thou be a Beast;  
Or rather more than so; Beasts Scorn them not.  
Thy Scorns Pride's Daughter, and thou dost resist  
The course of thy Design, whilst thou dost shut  
Out Arts and Sciences, the Wings whereby  
Proud Spirits, as well as Generous, soar high   

33.  
But if thou choosest Virtues craggy Way,  
And dar'st despise whatever Thou see'st beneath;  
If thy dull Bodies Burden cannot sway  
Thee downward; if this Life to thee be Death;  
If high thine Aim, if heavenly be the Heat  
Which doth in thy Heroic Bosom beat;   

34.  
Right generous is thy Enterprise; but yet  
Strong Difficulties throng about it thick;  
Bold inbred Dangers will encounter it,  
Whilst thy wild Passions all against it kick;  
Nay thine own Heart, unless thy Care be great,  
Will Traitor prove, and its own Plots defeat.   

35.  
Besides; All They whose Bosoms tainted be  
With baneful Sins Contagion, will join  
Their malice in a fell conspiracy  
Thy single Piety to undermine;  
For all thy Virtue checks and chides their Vice,  
And Thy fair Glories shame their Villainies.   

36.  
Thou art their Scandal, and their Fame doth call  
Upon their deepest wariest Cares for aid  
Against that Blot thy Beauty throwss on all  
Those who of Virtue's Hardship are afraid.  
What Weapons wilt thou find to force back them!  
How shall thy Vessel strive against the Stream!   

37.  
Yet through this rampant Sea of Opposition  
Couldst Thou force open thy way: What wouldst Thou do  
Against those stouter Billows of Perdition  
Which foam and roar wherever Thou dost go?  
Hell and its Prince, their utmost Powers combine  
To terrify, and to enervate thine.   

38.  
And sure this Tempest would effect its Spite  
On thy weak Bark, did not kind Heaven descend  
In pair aforehand: did not Grace's light  
With cordial Assistance Thee befriend,  
Did she not steer thy course, and bid thee ride  
Secure upon the most outrageous Tide.   

39  
Thy Life is nothing but a Tragic Scene  
Of most inevitable Death, if she  
By seasonable Help comes not between  
Thy faint Soul and its dire Catastrophe:  
Grace only doth condemned Man reprieve  
From fatal Woes, and teach his Life to live.   

40.  
'twas blessed Charis, who so fast did move  
Phylax his Wings when He to Psyche flew,  
And with the wholesome speed of heavenly Love  
Her from the Jaws of the Cerinthians drew,  
By showing her the horror of that Pit  
Where Heresy. and all her Brood did sit   

41.  
But Phylax from that Grotreturned now,  
His Chariot takes again, and her with it:  
Strait Gitton and Samaria sunk below;  
For warned by the motion of their Bit  
The lusty Coursers took their sprightful wing,  
And justling through the Clouds, away did fling.   

42.  
As Psyche wondered whether they would fly,  
She found herself rapt to a gentle Sphere:  
No Wind durst ever venture up so high  
Nor blow up any Tempests tumults there.  
The only Gales which in this Orb did move  
Were the delicious Breathes of Heaven and Love.   

43.  
The only Clouds which there did meet her Eye  
Thick Volumes of religious Ineense were;  
The only Noise which rooled through that sky  
Were holy Echoes, that to her did bear  
The sweet Resounds of those rich Anthems which  
The Throats and Hearts of joyful Saints did stretch.   

44.  
She mused much to think what Creatures were  
Inhabitants in that calm Sea of Bliss:  
When lo a Troop of glistering Towers drew near  
As her swift Chariot further on did press;  
And strait a goodly Palace filled her Eye  
With large and high-erected Majesty   

45.  
Directly thither, for they knew the way.  
The Coursers sped, neighing as they slew:  
But Phylax plucked the Reins, to bid them stay  
When near unto the outer Gate they drew  
Then lighting with his Virgin-pupill; He  
Warned her to ponder well what She did see.   

46.  
Never, said he, my Dear, those Eyes of thine,  
Though they have travelled through the World so far,  
Were honoured with Object so divine  
As these with which they now saluted are;  
No Pile e'er swelled to such bright stateliness;  
All Prince's Courts are Cottages to this.   

47.  
That pompous Fabric which great David's Son  
Built for a greater King, was poor and plain  
If it be brought into comparison  
With this Magnificence which here doth reign:  
As Shadows do the Substance, so does that  
But blindly intimate this Temple's state.   

48.  
The Gold which shined, the Stones which sparkled there  
Were all th' ignoble Sons of dirty Earth;  
But these substantial Glories flaming here  
Owe to heavens Womb their most illustrious Birth:  
Nor was the Work atcheiv'd by Mortal Hand,  
Which firm as Immortality doth stand.   

49.  
Hadst Thou my Wings, and through the Spheres couldst fly  
heavens most imperial Palace there to read;  
That Spectacle would only feast thine Eye  
With a more ample Copy, wider spread  
And fuller drawn; a Copy, of what here  
Is written in a smaller Character.   

50.  
Mark well its Situation: Caucasus,  
The Alps, th' Athlantick Mountains, Ararat,  
Noble Olympus, nobler Lybanus,  
Are in their highest exaltations not  
Half so sublime as is this royal Hill  
Which almost in both Worlds at once doth dwell.   

51.  
It's Head thou see'st to Heaven next Neighbour is;  
And upon Hell its Foot is surely set;  
On Hell, which often has repined at this  
Oppressing Burden, and oft strove to get  
Its neck from under it; but still in vain  
The Powers of all that vexed Pit did strain.   

52.  
For lo the Mountain's all one solid Rock  
Compacted in the Strength of Unity:  
Though Hills of Brass should yield unto the shock  
Of Violence; though Earth's vast Base should be  
Shouldered out of its place, this Mount would stand  
And laugh to scorn them who against it band.   

53.  
So stands the craggy Promontory sure  
With head erected high above the Storm,  
When all the Winds against its Site conjure,  
And thousand Waves with high-swolln fury arm:  
It stands, and sees the Blasts blown out of breath,  
And all the 〈◊〉 shattered beneath.   

54.  
But mark the fabric of this outer Gate,  
And tell me if thou ever saw'st a more  
Unlikely Passage to a Court of State:  
Strong the Materials are, but yet the Door  
Is built so low, and so extremely narrow,  
That Worms, not Men, seem fit to scramble thorough   

55.  
And Worms indeed the Passengers must be,  
Poor, thin, and humble Things, which enter here;  
Big puffing Pride, must never hope that She  
Shall through this Portal crowd; or Worldly Care  
Swelled with Encumbrances, and lagged with Sin,  
At this small mystic Needles Eye thrust in.   

56.  
He whose unhappy bosom's stuffed with Gold,  
Whilst all his Bags lie heaped in his Heart;  
He who in Fat and Ease himself doth fold,  
And never was shrunk up by any Smart;  
Too burly is to enter here, and fit  
Through Hell's wide-gaping Jaws alone to get.   

57  
All secular Impostumes, which do rise  
From any Humours Superfluity,  
From any Lusts, or any Vanities,  
From inward or from outward Luxury,  
Can at this humble Passage find no room,  
But dam the Way to all that Laden come.   

58.  
This said: He led the 〈◊〉 to the Gate;  
Where though she shrunk and closely gathered up  
Herself within herself, yet still to great  
She found her bulk, that she was 〈◊〉 to stoop,  
And crowd, and struggle hard, e'er she could win  
Tenuity enough there to thrust in.   

59  
But being entered, a large Court she saw,  
And yet almost as straight as was the door,  
Such Difficulties all about did grow,  
Such high, such stony, craggy Paths, such store  
Of troublesome Shrubs and Thorns, all which did threat  
With wounds, snares, and obstructions, her feet.   

60.  
Yet by the Angels prudent Conduct she  
Rubbed through, but with the cost of sweat and pain:  
When lo with recreating suavity  
A second gale her eyes did entertain,  
A gate as glorious, and as venerable,  
As was the other poor and despicable.   

61.  
The Posts of milky Alabaster were,  
So was the Lintel; but the Leaf was all  
Of purest Crystal, that those who drew near,  
Before the Door was opened, might fall  
In love with those interior beauties which  
Themselves through that clear perspective did reach.   

62.  
But Psyche here observed a serious Maid  
Who kept the Keys of that transparent Gate,  
Upon the ground disconsolately laid,  
Like one who felt and wailed the wrath of Fate:  
Held by her left hand was her heavy head,  
And on her heavier heart her right was spread.   

63.  
Part of her Tresses Sorrow off had torn,  
And scattered on the ground: what did remain,  
Neglect dishevelled clotted and forlorn  
About her ears: Her foreheads native Plain  
Was ploughed up by Self-indignation, and  
Deep were the Furrows of that woeful Land.   

64.  
Her pensive Eyes so overladen were  
With constant clouds, that downward to the earth  
They always looked: The weather ne'er was clear  
With Her, but when one Tempest had broke forth,  
Another crowded on; or rather one  
Continual flood did from her Fountains run.   

65.  
The beauties of her Cheeks, this washed away,  
And through their Hills two sallow Channels made;  
This marshaled the soft Pearls in sad array  
Upon her Clothes, which often rend she had;  
This made the countenance of the neighbour ground  
In the exuberant brine of hers be drowned,   

66.  
Of Whips, and Rods before her lay an heap  
Red with the Vengeance on her body she  
With them had taken: Far far thence was Sleep,  
For palefaced Watching, stern Austerity,  
Hollow cheeked Fasting, pious Shame and Fear,  
Had in a circle all besieged Her.   

67.  
In stead of Powders to perfume her Head,  
Cold contemptible Ashes there were strown,  
Which an untimely Hoarines did spread  
Upon her Locks, and preach to Her her own  
Beginning, and her End, that certain Dust  
From whence she came, and unto which she must,   

68  
As Psyche mused who this Maid should be,  
Which like a woeful Prey to Grief did lie;  
Howe'er she looks, said Phylax, this is she  
Whom only Heaven intrusteth with the Key  
Of this fair Palace; she, whose piteous look  
Hath writ her Worth so high in Gods own Book;   

69.  
Her Name is Penance, and with her must All  
Who are ambitious here to get access,  
Into familiar acquaintance fall,  
And love her painful Life, and Wretchedness:  
Though her embraces comfortless may seem  
And cold, yet heavenly heats do glow in them.   

70.  
Delightful Ease lies nestling in her Smart,  
Security in habits in her Fears,  
Content keeps house in her disconsolate heart,  
Pure Joy doth bathe itself in all her Tears,  
And in the frowning Furrows of her sadness  
Are sown the seeds of everlasting gladness.   

71.  
This Word threw Psyche straight upon her knee,  
To beg the favour of that mournful Maid;  
Who raised herself with ready Courtesy,  
And prayed the stranger not to be afraid;  
Welcome, she cried, and sealed it with a Kiss,  
And in her sober Arms she hug'd her thrice.   

72.  
She buged her thrice; and every time she shot  
Quite through her Soul griefs secret influence:  
Whereby entire Possession she got  
Of all her thoughts, in which she left no sense  
Or relish of Terrestrial delight,  
But fitted her to see this heavenly sight.   

73.  
Which done; upon his humble Head she spread  
Part of her Tears, and of her Ashes part;  
Then her unto the Door she kindly led;  
Which, as she touched it, did wide open start:  
Straightway a Gale of holy Pleasures flew  
Forth at the Gate, and full on Psyche blue.   

74.  
Thus entered in, she there espies a Well  
Of clearer Crystal far than was that Door;  
And here, said Phylax, Purity doth dwell,  
Of limpid Life here lives the endless Store;  
These Streams alone can conquer that deep Slain  
Which in the tainted Universe doth reign.   

75.  
No foolish Nymphs are dabbling in this Spring,  
But Grace's genuine, and numberless,  
And all divine, are here inhabiting,  
Who with their Beauties every Comer bless;  
Feigned Venus from her native Sea did rise  
Less fair than those this Fountain purifies.   

76.  
For this is Baptisms holy Fountain, where  
All They must wash the other World away,  
Who in this Court of new Life would appear,  
And of Night's Bats turn Children of the Day;  
Profane unwashen feet far hence must be,  
This holy Ground belongs to Sanctity.   

77.  
But of such everlasting Virtue is  
This sacred Liquor, that one Drenching will  
Sufficient be; and 'tis Presumptuousness  
A second time its noble Drops to spill:  
Thou who art washed already, hast no need  
Of further cleansing; but mayst now proceed.   

78.  
This said: He leads her forward through a Way  
Paved all with Softness and sincere Delight,  
Unto the Palace, which did now display  
Its princely fullness unto their free Sight:  
Magnific was its Aspect, and upon  
The Rock, looked like another Mount of Stone.   

79.  
A Mount of Marble polished and white,  
But with such Architecture varied,  
That Majesty was tempered with Delight.  
Thus all the Countenance of Heaven is spread  
With Awe, and Beauty, that Spectators may  
Both Love and Reverence unto it pay,   

80.  
What goodly Pillars, Walls, and Towers were there!  
What Rows of Lights in equidistant grace!  
What learned Engraving lived every where,  
Impeopling with acquaint Antics each spare place!  
With what brave strife did cunning Art contend  
How she the rich Materials might transcend.   

81.  
But now by Twelve fair steps advanced into  
The Hall they came; an Hall of Majesty;  
Which all the outward Bravery did so  
Exceed, that Psyche almost lost her Eye  
In walking through the several Wonders which  
Did every corner of the Room enrich.   

82.  
The Floor with glittering silver all was spread,  
The Almug Walls with royal Arras dressed,  
The Cedar Roof with Gold embellished,  
With glorious Paint the Windows: Such a Feast  
Of goodly Sights She never saw before,  
Though She had viewed all Agenor's store,   

83.  
Yet this was but the handsome Case and Skin  
Of that which did Majestic make the Place;  
For round about upon the Walls were seen  
Innumerable Spoils, which she, who was  
Queen of the Palace, in her Wars had won,  
And hung them here as Proofs what she had done,   

84.  
Here by their Horns Dilemmas hanging were,  
And of big Syllogisms the empty Skins.  
Bold busy Wit hung tame and quiet here;  
Here Rhetoric with all her cunning 'Gins  
About her own Neck wound; here all the Pride  
Of secular Wisdom, was close Captive tied.   

85.  
Next-those that Insolent Severity,  
That humble Arrogance, which once did reign  
In the admired Porch, hung dead and dry;  
And chained Zeno knit his Brows in vain  
To see that Doctrine which cost Him so dear,  
By conquering Truth hung up in triumph here.   

86.  
And yet some comfort 'twas that He beheld  
The Pythagorean Prudence hanging by,  
And its great Master, though He would not yield  
It fit for Men with Flesh to satisfy  
Their hunger, forced by Madness now to eat  
Himself, and make his chained Arms his Meat,   

87.  
Nor had the Epicurean Discipline  
Better success, for it was Captive here;  
Where both with shame and hunger it did 〈◊〉  
Paying full dear for its luxuriant Cheer;  
All lank and thin it hung, like nothing less  
Than the full treasury of voluptuousness   

88  
Th●● Egyptian learning, black, as blackest Hell,  
Where it was bred and born, hung also here,  
Nor could invent with all its Magic skill  
Any mysterious Charm or Character  
To conjure down itself from that disgrace  
To which straight Prisoner here it fastened was.   

89.  
By these, the 〈◊〉 snatched from the furthest Parts  
Of the strange Indian 〈◊〉 hung one by one:  
The proud Gymnosophists, and Braehmans' Arts,  
(For noble Bartholomew did thither run,  
And Thomas too, by heavens direction sent,  
Who spread their Conquests wheresoe'er they went,   

90.  
So did the Persians Astrologick skill,  
And what in Balaams' Midian School was taught  
A mighty prize was this, as being full  
With thousand Sects of various Learning fraught;  
Yet none of these could Calculate that they  
Should unto Catholic Truth become a Prey.   

91.  
Nor did the Academic Glory scape,  
Although fage Plato raised it fair and high,  
For here it hung in contemptible shape,  
Appearing more like reverend foolery,  
Than genuine Wisdom, and lamenting that  
It reached so near to Truth, yet reached it not.   

92.  
Next this, the Oracles of the Stagirite,  
(That God of Logical and wrangling Brains,  
Hung all in wounded miserable plight,  
Unable to confute their conquering Chains,  
And wished that they their Master's fate had seen,  
And with him drowned in Euripus had been.   

93.  
On one side of the Hall these marshaled were,  
And on the other full as great a Crew:  
For all the Sadducean Points hung there,  
Too late lanenting what they found most true  
That they from thence should no Redemption have  
Who held no Resurrection from the Grave   

94.  
And in the same condition hanging was  
Wicked 〈◊〉, and woeful now;  
Perceiving that to its distressed Cause  
Its rotten Deity could no help allow;  
That Herod proved no such kind of thing  
As Christ, of Glory, and of Power King.   

95.  
〈◊〉 Prudence also had its share  
Among the rest, in this Captivity;  
Although its ways, and grounds, and doctrines, were  
Nearest of kin to Truth and firmity:  
Indeed she made the least resistance, and  
Was therefore tied in the gentler band.   

96.  
But puffed with zealous Ignorance, and Pride,  
The 〈◊〉 Discipline held out  
With bold defiance, and a good while tried  
Whether she or this Champion were more stout;  
And much she might have done, had truth not been  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to bring her Prisoner in   

97.  
Yet after Her innumerable fries  
Of foul and desperate Vermin undertook  
The War again, and by degrees did rise  
From sucking sneaking Schisms, until they broke  
Into the monstrous amplitude of those  
Black Heresies whose depth Hell only knows.   

98.  
The Authors lately in their native Pit.  
Psyche beheld; and here the Brood She sees;  
The hideous Portents of malicious Wit,  
And pretie-pretending Villainies,  
Which now perforce did their own shame confess  
All hanging in their odious Nakedness.   

99  
They naked hung; yet clothed in their Gore,  
Which Livery too they gave unto the Wall,  
Whilst they with rage their viperous Members tore,  
And upon one another spit their Gall,  
Stark mad their huge and warlike selves to see  
The Subjects of eternal Triumph be.   

100  
Heroick were these Spectacles: But yet  
The upper end of this illustrious Hall  
With gallanter Memorials was beset,  
For all about upon the mighty Wall  
Hung goodly Tables, offering to the Ey  
A full account of larger Victory.   

101.  
The first, subdued Asia did display,  
Where Conquest at Jerusalem begun  
Her noble Progress, breaking open her way  
Quite through the Heart of every Region,  
Nor stayed her Chariot, until it met  
The rising Sun's, and fairer showed than it.   

102.  
The second, generous Europe did present,  
The Queen of Arms and Arts, and yet too weak  
And silly to confute or stop the dint  
Of Christian genuine Lustre, which did break  
Through all her Quarters till both Rome and Grecce  
Yielded, and sued for Euangelick Peace.   

103.  
Hot sandy Africa boiled in the Third,  
Where all its Monsters gentle grew and tame;  
Not frighted by the lightning of the Sword,  
But mollified by Christ's all-conquering Name,  
Which won, (though with an Eunuch it began,)  
At length the mightiest, and compleatest Man.   

104.  
The Fourth, was but prophetic yet, in which  
Deciphered was a strange untutored World,  
In golden Mines, and Veins of Silver rich,  
But poor in every thing beside, and hurled  
To the Backside of all these Parts which then  
Were known unto this Universe's Men.   

105.  
Yet was the Church assured that she should through  
The vast Atlantic reach her conquering Arm,  
And on that Western Even her East bestow,  
Which Pagan Hearts with heavenly Heats might warm;  
She was assured her Baptism Streams upon  
The wealthy Shore of noble Plate should run.   

106.  
When Psyche had her Admiration to  
These splendid marvels paid, which one by one  
Phylax expounded; Her he hasts to go;  
For goodlier Sights, said He, this Mansion  
Does yet afford: These but the Preface be  
(And poor enough) to what thou now shalt see.   

107.  
With that, He up a princely Staircase brings  
Her to the Presence-chamber of the Queen.  
O what illustrious and celestial Things  
Where in this Shrine of holy Glories seen!  
Which whilst to Psyche Phylax Pointed, He  
Was ravished well near as much as She.   

108.  
This precious Pavement first observe, said He,  
Thy foot ne'er trampled on such Worth as this;  
The Floors no less than pure Humility  
Which lies as smooth as Politures own Dress,  
Yet softer than those Carpets are, whose sweet  
And silken Kisses flatter Prince's feet.   

109.  
The Walls are built of neither Wood nor Stone,  
No nor of Brass, of Silver, or of Gold,  
Or any Substance which Duration  
Can make decrepit as it groweth old:  
O no; the rich Materials are such  
As wretched Weakness must not dare to touch.   

110.  
For they of Strength and of Security  
A mixture are and Correspondence keep  
With their Foundation, which doth fixed lie  
Upon a Rock that scorns what all the Deep  
Can do against it; And these Walls disdain  
The stoutest Powers which in the Air do reign.   

111.  
The Roof whose patent Arch and azure Hue  
Like heavens Epitome, above doth flow,  
With no Hypocrisy deludes the view,  
Being conscious of more worth than it doth show  
Whatever it seems unto thy mortal Sense,  
It is no less than God's own Providence,   

112.  
Those middle Pillars which so stoutly set  
Their lusty shoulders under it, are cast  
Of sound substantial Faith; though Rocks should split.  
Though Earth's vast Grounsells which are ●amme'd fast  
Unto the Centre, should in pieces fly,  
These still will hold their own Solidity.   

113.  
That strange Solidity, whose mystic Root  
Cross unto all the world beside doth grow;  
For its profoundly-paradoxik foot  
Implanted is above, and not below;  
Whilst by Loves all uniting-strengthning Art,  
The Roof itself the Pillars doth support.   

114.  
Those spacious Windows there, which 〈◊〉 Eye  
Open its way to Heaven 〈…〉  
(The brittle Emblem of 〈◊〉 Vanity  
But of firm Hope, through which the Soul doth pass.  
And climb aforehand to tho● Jove's above  
Which have monopolised her loyal Love.   

115.  
That golden Chimney, and the Fire which there  
With unconsuming Sweetness flames so high,  
The Shop and fervent Operations are  
Of strong and never-idle Charity;  
Whose soft Extremities of fostering Heat  
In the brave Pulse of pious Hearts doth beat.   

116.  
But this resplendent Mount of Majesty,  
Which in the middle of the Room doth rise,  
This Diamond Throne, whose Glory doth outvie  
The beams of solomon's, erected is  
For Her whose Beauties make the seat appear  
But poor and dim, when it supporteth Her.   

117.  
Just as He spoke, from her retiring Room  
Attended by her most majestic Train,  
Unto that Throne the Queen herself did come,  
And justify the Angel's word: In vain  
The Diamonds Sparkles were, which all gave way,  
To Hers, as Stars to Phoebus, and his Day.   

118.  
In her sweet Looks, such blessed Gallantry  
Triumphant was, that Psyche judged Her  
To be no Daughter of Mortality,  
But sprung from heavenly Race; nor did she fear  
Idolatry in worshipping that Face  
Which of much more than Heaven the Mirror was.   

119.  
But as she for prostration did prepare,  
Phylax adviseth her to satisfy  
Her eyes profoundest Hunger with the Cheer,  
The royal Cheer, whose superfluity  
Was so excessive; And Thou then, said He,  
Shalt know who is this Queen of Sweets, from Me.   

120.  
This Item She obeyed: But as a Child  
Into some Prince's Garden brought, which He  
Sees with innumerable Beauties filled;  
Yields up himself to dainty ecstasy,  
Not knowing where he should begin to gather,  
Seeing every flower woos Him from one another:   

121.  
So in delicious Confusion She  
Among the Graces of this Empress lost,  
Her wondering Self, nor could resolved be  
Which Part deserved her admiration most;  
She looked to find one better than the rest,  
Yet saw at last, all in their kind were best.   

122.  
For from the head of the accomplished Queen  
Unto her foot there was no room for Blame:  
Sooner shall Pitch in Venu's Rays be seen,  
Sooner shall Glories face be damped with Shame,  
Sooner shall Christa! guilty be of Blots,  
Than purer She can be accused of Spots. 
Cant. 4. 7.    

123.  
As through the roseal Casements of the East 
6. 10.   
Aurora looks when fresh come out of Bed;  
So is her briskly-blooming Aspect dressed  
With all the Delicates of Blushing Red;  
Yet though these Streams of Blushes overflow,  
They keep firm truce still with their neighbour snow.   

124.  
As goodly Phoebe in th' unclouded 〈◊〉 
〈◊〉   
Smiles with chaste Beauty, so doth 〈◊〉 She;  
But yet more spotless, for Sols Majesty  
Doth with her virgin Mildness here agree,  
The Moons sweet silver, and his stately Gold  
Are in this faces sphere together rolled.   

125.  
Yet such its temper is, that if bold Eyes 
ibid.   
Confront it, no less Terror flames in it  
Than from a marshaled Army doth surprise  
Cold-harted Cowards, when the Standards get  
Free leave to pour their awful Colours through  
The Air, and the bright Banners open flow,   

126.  
This makes the Lady's precious feature be 
〈◊〉   
As pleasant as the graceful Structure is  
Of beauteous Tirza; and her Majesty  
As rich as Salems' was in Comeliness  
When her best Excellence had crowned her Queen  
Of all things that below the Sun were seen.   

127.  
As the illustrious Tree of Victory, 
〈◊〉   
The verdant Palm, lifts her triumphant Head  
Above the vulgar Shrubs; so flaming She  
Her portly Stature. And 'tis fairly read  
In the Halls noble Characters, how near  
Of kin the Palm and She by Conquests are.   

128.  
Carmel which looks from his exalted Seat 
〈◊〉   
With state, upon the Vales that creep beneath,  
And is so strong in high-grown Woods, so sweet  
In fragrant Pastures, fairly copieth  
Her princely Head, the Crown which there is set  
T' ennoble all the Members under it,   

129.  
As from steep Gilead the milky Flocks 
4. 1.   
Of climbing Goats do gracefully appear;  
Such is the beauty of her slaxen Locks,  
Whilst like young Kids their Curls all sporting are.  
And by their sport, though feeble Chains they be,  
Do Captive take the King of Majesty. 
7. 5.    

130.  
Under the dainty shelter of her Hair 
4. 3.   
Half-hid, half-ope her precious Temples lie,  
Which like a rich pomegranate lovely are,  
And lovelier by that open secrisie;  
For what is naked, speaks for what is hid,  
And more desire doth in Spectators breed.   

131.  
Who by Bethrabbim Gate hath ever seen 
7. 4.   
The Pools of Heshbon 〈◊〉 to the brim,  
Where living Smiles inhabit, where sereen  
And genuine Purity delights to swim,  
Where both the Stars by Night, and Sun by Day  
As in a softer Heaven rejoice to play;   

132.  
The Emblem of Her Eyes He hath beheld;  
Her Eyes, the limpid Mirror whence those beams  
Which dart forth Loves and Joys, which sweetly gild  
Spectators Hearts, pour out their dainty streams;  
Her Eyes, the softest Nest of brightest Bliss,  
The purest springs of mystic Paradise.   

133.  
That white and stately Tower of Marble which 
7. 4.   
Down from its Lebanon its Looks extended  
Unto Damascus, did but only teach  
What Princely Beauty Her fair Nose commended,  
Whose Alabaster Prominence doth by  
Its situation gain that Majesty.   

134.  
Her Lips of Scarlet are a finespun Thread; 
4. 3.   
Yet not so fine or beauteous as is  
The rare Effusion which through them is shed  
Where that sweet spring of 〈◊〉 doth bless  
〈◊〉 Auditors, when vocal Gold  
Ana Honey, from th' enclosed longue is rolled.   

135.  
No Sheep new shorn and even, and come but now 
4. 2   
From 〈◊〉, all in 〈◊〉 order, can  
Afford the 〈◊〉 more delightful show,  
Than her two Ranges of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when  
A 〈◊〉, or some such sweet Occasion hath  
Displayed the equal 〈◊〉 of her 〈◊〉.   

136.  
As David's goodly Tower, the dwelling place 
4. 4.   
Of Beauty and of strength; such is her Neck;  
A thousand mighty Shields that Fort do grace,  
And full as many Jewels this do deck;  
Or rather decked are by hanging there;  
Their wealthy Place for them can lustre spare.   

137.  
Two tender Roes. the Sons both of one Dame, 
4. 5   
And of one Birth, which in a little field  
Are put to Pasture; in another Name  
Are her two Breasts, with lovely softness swelled,  
Which in her Bosoms fragrant Carden feed  
Amongst those whitest Sweets which there are bred.   

138.  
Her royal Robe was all of purest silk;  
In softness parallel to her own skin  
Which it embraced, in whiteness to her Milk;  
A cunning Needle over it had run,  
And scattered pretty Hills and Valleys, where  
Neat Flocks of Lambs feeding and sporting were.   

139.  
But as when April's gentle Breath doth wake 
4. 11.   
The flowery Eyes of Lebanon, or plays  
Against his precious Boughs, the Odours take  
The soft alarm, and their sweet Powers raise:  
So this rich Vestures blessed smell replies  
To the least Call of every Gale that flies.   

140.  
In either Hand she held a massy Key,  
Which like two Sceptres she did stoutly sway;  
The one of beaten burnished Gold, which she  
Hug'd in her Right-hand; for the royal way  
Through heavens bright Gate is always locked up,  
Except this privileged Key doth set it open.   

141.  
That in her Left, of swarthy Iron is;  
A fatal dreadful Key, which locks the Door  
Of everlasting Torments foul Abyss  
Where Anathematised Souls do 〈◊〉.  
Proud Belzebub, although he Sovereign be  
Of Hell, yet keeps not his own Kingdom's Key.   

142.  
The Diadems of gareish Gold and Gems  
Unto the 〈◊〉 of mortal Kings she leaves  
An heavenly flame about Her 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
And a full Crown of living glory 〈◊〉,  
Which Miter-like, and like the mystic 〈◊〉  
Of Cloven-Tongnes of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, doth 〈◊〉   

143.  
But for a Canopy above her head  
No Babylonian Embroidery,  
No Tyrian nor Phrygian Texture's spread,  
No artificial Help of Majesty;  
No State which cannot last, if by the aid  
Of Pillars and of Cords it be not stayed.   

144.  
A Dove, not hatched in sublunary Nest,  
Nor hatched at all, but of eternal Breed.  
Weighed on his equal Wings, takes up his rest  
At near, but comely Distance o'er her Head.  
Where by his wide-spred silver Feathers 〈◊〉  
Becomes her Ornament, and 〈◊〉.   

145.  
This was the Queen: on whom as Psyche gazed,  
Thou hast no cause, my Dear said 〈◊〉, so  
At her high Gallantry to be amazed.  
If thou but knowst what is her Name, and who  
The King her Spouse. O pity then, cried she,  
Sweet Tutor, this my Ignorance and Me.   

146.  
He, by a speaking Smile at first, then by  
These Words, his modest Pupil satisfied:  
This Queen, Ecclesia is. unto the high  
And mighty King of Kings the sovereign Bride:  
Poor of herself, and sprung from Mortal Race,  
But thus advanced by his bounteous Grace.   

147.  
Those Princes whom the foolish World admire,  
Are fain to make a tedious Search to find  
Ladies whose florid Beauties may conspire  
With the 〈◊〉 of their lustful Mind,  
And often for a Dowry hunt, that so  
The Maid, and Money they may Marry too.   

148.  
But it becomes heavens Emperor to make  
Rather than seek a Spouse which him may please;  
Nor can it with his Greatness stand to take  
A Portion with his Bride, who Owner is  
Of more than thine, or Phoebu's larger Eye  
Could in his furthest Travels e'er descry.   

149.  
She crooked was, alas, and black before,  
A Throne on which Deformity did reign:  
Such heaps of odious Blains, and Boils, such Store  
Of Wrinkles and Distortions, such plain  
Right-down Uncleanness could not any where  
Be found in one Colluvies, but in Her.   

150.  
Indeed when first She in her Filth was born 
Ezech. 16. 4.   
No friendly Hand came in to wash her clean,  
Or cut her Navel; helpless and foriorn  
In her foul Blood She lay till be sent in  
His yearning Providence Relief to give,  
Which on Death's brink commanded her to live.   

151.  
She lived; but still so as her life confessed  
By its Procession, what its Entrance was;  
Yet when all other Lovers did detest  
The thought of her most ugly vile Embrace,  
Jesus steps in, and cries, Why may nor she  
Grow beauteous by my Superfluity?   

152.  
Then from 〈◊〉 exuberant Store of his own Graces  
Ten thousand rich and radiant Things he takes,  
Which all about the wondering Maid he places,  
And of a Worm, this Queen of Glory makes,  
Who as thou 〈◊〉 thus Embellished  
Prepared was for his 〈◊〉 Bea.   

153.  
And that his Empress might attended be  
With a Retinue suitable unto  
Her royal Self; that Train Magnificent He  
Both furnished, and maintaineth for Her: Lo  
With what pressed forwardness they waiting are  
About her sparkling Throne, and fairer Her.   

154.  
The first Rank's of no less than threescore Queens,  
Who yet can from her Service Honour take. 
Cantic 6. 8   
The nexts of fourscore goodly Concubines;  
But they which do the outmost Orders make,  
Where in a Number numberless thy flow,  
Are Virgins all, both chaste and white as snow.   

155.  
These were the lesser Churches, which were spread  
About the World so thick in ever Place;  
Yet still their Strength and their Dependence had  
From this most Catholic Majesty, which was  
Diffus d as wide as they, and never found  
That Land or Sea which could its Progress boun.   

156.  
These every Morn, and every Evening raise 
6. 9,   
Their homage in religious Anthems high,  
Paying both Admiration and Praise  
To Her, the Monarch of all Piety;  
Since They to Her but Tributaries are,  
For she alone the Sovereign Crown doth wear.   

157.  
But mark that 〈◊〉, whose Station is  
Before the 〈◊〉, Maids of true 〈◊〉, which  
Enjoy the 〈◊〉 this Queen to 〈◊〉:  
Their Hands alone adorn her with those rich  
Embellishments which round about her shine  
And make her look so heavenly and divine.   

158.  
That 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Maid, is Unity,  
Whose noble Office is to buckle on  
Her 〈◊〉 golden 〈◊〉, and to see  
That close and fast this 〈◊〉 be done:  
And how her Duty she performeth, Thou  
By the Queen's small and dainty Waste mayst know.   

159.  
That sober Matron, in whose stayed Eye  
And venerable Face so fair are writ  
The awful Lines of Heaven, is Sanctity;  
Who every Morn before the Queen doth set  
Herself to be the Glass where she may see  
What Dress will best become her Majesty.   

160.  
The next, whose soft and yielding Looks confess  
The temper of her Heart, is Patience;  
Her Empress she doth deck with Tenderness,  
And makes her slow and loath to take Offence,  
That all her Subjects by her Softness may  
Be charmed so kind a Princess to obey.   

161.  
But Magnanimity, that high-looked She,  
Joins to that Mildness, stout and active Fire:  
This that Virago is, which scorrs to see  
Any exploit of Gallantry outvie Her:  
Ecclesia's brows with Bravery she doth build,  
And stoutly helps her both her Keys to wield.   

162.  
She whose wide-open Breasts so fairly swell,  
And wears as large a Purse open by her side,  
Who looks about to see where she may spill  
Her teeming Charities everlasting Tide,  
Is Bounty, Almoner to the Queen, whom she  
Doth also dress with Smiles and Suavity.   

163.  
That other, whose even Look was never knit  
Into a frown, nor loosed into a Smile;  
Whose right Hand holds a Sword, whose left, a fit  
And equal Balance, Justice is; who still  
As Cases come, her Lady's Eyes doth dress  
Either with Anger, or with Friendliness.   

164.  
That amiable sweet complexioned Maid  
Is 〈◊〉, which keeps the Queen so feir;  
In all Distempers she with ready And  
Her 〈◊〉 Health and Beauty doth repair,  
Her Body sound, her Skin she maketh sleek,  
She with 〈◊〉 Roses trimms her lovely Cheek.   

165.  
Those other Virtues also every one  
Their several Office have But Psyche, now  
Observe that neighbour Combination,  
Who Virgins also are, that thou mayst know  
By their great Worth how glorious is she  
Whose household Servants they are proud to be.   

166.  
She who all over written is with Scars,  
Laden with Palms, and clothed round in Blood,  
Fcclesia s Champion is: ten thousand Wars  
She waged hath, and valiantly withstood  
Hells and Earth's Opposition: her Name  
Is Martyrdom; her Story, highest Fame,   

167.  
That plain looked Maid, whose course and simple Hue  
Seems to discredit this illustrious Place,  
Is Poverty, who though to outward view  
She shineth not with any courtly Grace,  
Yet is within as gorgeous and as fair  
As on their Outsides her Companions are,   

168.  
For Jesus, who the Heart of Things doth see,  
Was so enamoured of her Beauties, that  
He chose to dwell with her alone, when he  
Entered upon his Theanthronick State;  
And found her Worth so high, that he 〈◊〉  
Her to Ecclesia when he hence Ascended.   

169.  
The next, her Sister is, Obedience;  
Thou never saw'st a Twigg more 〈◊〉 to bow,  
Nor Wax more pliant, than unto her Prince  
In all her Mandates she herself doth show:  
A Will she had once of her own, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Gave it her Queen, that so she 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

170.  
For prudent as she was, right well she knew  
What an edged Tool is every 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
Which oft makes its enslaved 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Its 〈◊〉 freedom; whose 〈◊〉 to quell,  
The 〈◊〉 way she found, was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
It to a Wiser 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,   

〈◊〉  
Lo there Virginity her 〈◊〉: O who  
Can count the Graces which 〈…〉,  
Which all about her dainty Body 〈◊〉,  
In 〈◊〉 and 〈…〉  
Heaven deeply tell 〈◊〉 love with Her, and she  
As truly is 〈◊〉 as 〈◊〉.   

〈◊〉  
Indeed the old acquaintance We have 〈◊〉  
With 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, makes Us what We are.  
Unto 〈◊〉 their 〈…〉  
She sets Us free from all 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
And 〈◊〉 Us leave to 〈…〉  
The business of 〈…〉.   

〈◊〉  
The 〈◊〉 which smilesh in her 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 with heroic 〈◊〉  
For though bold 〈◊〉 be 〈…〉  
A common Bridle, and 〈…〉  
That Hand he 〈◊〉 which with 〈◊〉 might  
Is furnished and 〈…〉.   

〈◊〉  
But there stand 〈◊〉 far more noble yet 
〈◊〉   
Stars of the first and fairest 〈◊〉 
〈◊〉   
Stars unto which the whole Word is in 〈◊〉  
For that Commanding 〈◊〉 which hath 〈◊〉  
That 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which 〈◊〉  
All Nations its 〈◊〉 Prisoners 〈◊〉.   

〈◊〉  
That awful Maid, 〈◊〉 glorious 〈◊〉  
Before whole look the World made haste to bow  
And take the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon  
Its 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Thou by that Mark 〈◊〉 know.  
Obrave 〈◊〉 which hast out 〈◊〉  
The Course, 〈◊〉 the Glories of the Sun   

176.  
This is the Lady 〈◊〉. 〈◊〉  
The faithful Hands or whose 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 precious store was put, that 〈◊〉  
All pious 〈◊〉 might be anured where  
They should not 〈◊〉 to 〈…〉  
And 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or their dear Lord   

177.  
But at her back 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 apparent Her  
〈◊〉, when to 〈…〉  
Yet, 〈◊〉 as 〈◊〉 doth 〈◊〉  
The glory her great 〈…〉  
And 〈◊〉 turns the 〈◊〉  
I 〈◊〉, to 〈◊〉.   

〈◊〉  
She in whose 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
 
Is most 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
 
She whose quicksighted 〈◊〉 doth wonders see  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 an Age before they be.   

〈◊〉  
The 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in whose 〈◊〉 doth d well  
A 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, sweet and 〈◊〉 too  
Which 〈…〉  
〈◊〉 is that 〈◊〉 which at 〈◊〉  
Not in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 〈…〉  
  

〈◊〉  
 
 
 
 
 
  

181.  
The fifth the Mistrels of profounder 〈◊〉  
Than 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 knew  
She 〈◊〉 no 〈◊〉 nor Herbs to take her Part  
Nor any 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Plants doth brew  
But by her 〈◊〉 or her commanding Breath  
Knows how to 〈◊〉 both 〈◊〉 and Death.   

182.  
The sixth whose ready and officious Eyes  
Her 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 doth speak  
Is she who on the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
With reverend distance waits: she who doth take  
The care or those who did not Chartitie  
Keep open house, would no where narboured 〈◊〉   

183.  
The 〈◊〉, whose stature is so high, and fair,  
Whose Snoulaers are to broad, whose breast to 〈◊〉  
Whose joints wei-knit, whose bones well, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
But stronger 〈◊〉 her Heart, may be 〈◊〉  
by there 〈◊〉 Marks to be no other but  
brave 〈◊〉 which in the 〈◊〉 is set.   

184.  
See'st Thou the 〈…〉  
Can by 〈…〉  
And yet 〈…〉  
 
 
  

185.  
She in their proper Dialects can trade  
With all the World, and heavens Wares set to sale;  
No Sound to Sense a Dress was ever made,  
But she with it doth straight acquainted fall  
And can discover whither it doth sit  
Upon that senses shoulders right and sit.   

186.  
Unhappy Babel's Antidote is she  
And cures the Wound which there did Tongues divide;  
All Languages do in her Lips agree,  
For to her single Tongue they all are tied;  
So are their Virtues too, and Eloquence  
Dwells there in all its kinds of Excellence.   

187.  
But now behold, where at the Queen's right Hand  
As best deserving that illustrious Place,  
A 〈◊〉 Virgin than all these doth stand,  
Who 〈◊〉 Sovereign's Gallantry doth grace:  
A Virgin 〈◊〉 than her native Home,  
〈◊〉 silver Spheres, whence she did hither come.   

188.  
Lo, she from head to foot all naked is,  
As are the Sun by day, and Stars by night:  
Herself she with her proper Beams doth dress  
As they with their Attire of natural Light:  
True Beauty never outward help did lack;  
'Tis Shame alone which Clothes doth useful make.   

189.  
Who ever thought the Rose or Lily stood  
〈◊〉 of course unhandsome Nakedness,  
Because they never put on borrowed Hood,  
Content with their own native Sweetnesses?  
Or where shall Ornaments be found which may  
In a new beauteous Garb such Things array.   

190.  
Believe it Psyche, She doth but retain  
Her Country's Fashion: They whose Bliss it is  
In heaven above eternaly to reign,  
Profess no other kind of Dress but this:  
They Naked go of every thing which might  
Hide those fair Beams which them all over dight.   

191.  
A Texture all of Glory, soft, and white  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Virgin Soul, doth her surround  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 can in the highnoon Face of Light,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of ink in stoods of Milk be 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 may a Critic hope to spy in her  
〈◊〉 Robe of Nakedness, a sound.   

192.  
That Nakedness, which though it breeds Desire  
In All whose Hearts are not of obstinate Stone;  
It kindles none but sweet and spotless Fire,  
In whose pure Furnace brave Devotion  
Learns with more sprightful fervency to glow,  
And 〈◊〉 itself refined doth grow   

193.  
But o what generous Powers flame in her face,  
Pouring her Conquests upon every Eye!  
The hardiest he that e'er on Her did gaze,  
Yielded, and loved his sweet Captivity:  
Error herself, though swelled with Pride and Hell,  
In her sweet Presence willingly doth 〈◊〉   

194.  
Her Name is Truth; and what her Love and Care,  
Judge by the Tokens which her hands present:  
That Volume which doth in her left appear,  
Is the original Old Testament;  
That in her right, the New; which unto her  
By Those who writ them first, committed 〈◊〉,   

195.  
For every Leaf of them a Mirror is,  
Where She doth read her own unspotted Face.  
No line is there; but truly doth express  
Some correspondent Lineament of Grace  
In her sweet Body, whose all-lovely Looks  
Are nothing but the Life of those dead Books,   

196.  
Bold Heresy has often in that Glass  
Presumed to look, and swore that there She 〈◊〉  
The true and faithful Image of her Face:  
But yet the shameless Est as oftenlyed;  
That trusty Glass will no false Colours show.  
But unto 〈◊〉, and Truth alone, is true.   

197.  
But mark what clings about the Virgin's 〈◊〉:  
A Knot of Things whose Lustre bids 〈◊〉 Eye  
Be with a glimpse content, and not 〈◊〉  
With that which blinds bold 〈◊〉.  
Faith's Mysteries they are, which by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Excess of their own Beams, 〈◊〉 and from 〈◊〉,   

198.  
In vain Thou seek'st these 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉  
By any Beauty which e r 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Eye  
Soul, which in most 〈◊〉 Worth 〈◊〉,  
Cannot 〈◊〉 their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
But happy count 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 they can 〈◊〉  
  

199.  
And happy Thou my Psyche, who art hither  
By heavens indulgence, and my Conduct brought,  
If Thou that Happiness scorn'st not to gather  
Which now is ripe, and woos thee to reach out  
Thy Hand and Heart, that both may filled be  
At highest heav'nliest Wealths own Treasury.   

200.  
Thus Phylax spoke: but Psyche all the while  
Raped with these several Glories of the Court,  
Did with as many Satisfactions Fill  
Her wondering Soul, and make Luxuriant sport  
In her new Bliss, until Truth's Contemplation  
Monopolised all her Admiration.   

201.  
For as the noble Eaglet perched high  
In a fair prospect to the naked Sun,  
Doth feast and not with her ravished Eye  
In that bright Sea of Beauty, where alone  
Her genuine Sight meets with its flaming Love,  
And by his sovereign Beams its own doth prove:   

202.  
So She with strong impatient Ardour here  
Stood feeding upon Truths all-glorious Face;  
Yet still with that most satisfying Cheer  
Remained unsatisfied, cause such it was;  
Till lost in amorous Greediness, she cries,  
Sweet Guardian help Me, or thy Psyche dies.   

203.  
Phylax, who knew the Soul of that Complaint,  
(For on his own it beat,) with tender Hand  
Releved his Pupil as He saw her faint;  
And well, said He, thy Grief I understand,  
I understand it well, and love it too,  
Thy Joys had did, hadst thou not Grieved so.   

204.  
The Image of thy late Acquaintance, and  
Newly ambibed Doctrines, in the Eye  
Of thy now selfe-revenged Heart doth stand.  
Checking thy venturous Credulity,  
Which durst embrace such Monsters, and dismiss  
A Beauty so divinely Bright as this.   

205.  
Yet let not Sorrow quench thy Hopes, for She  
All Injuries rejoiceth to forget,  
And never yet laughed at the Misery  
Of any Heart which would to her submit:  
Revenge indeed, but soft and sweet she takes,  
Her Foes to Liberty She Captives makes.   

206.  
This said; unto the Virgin Her He led;  
Whom by their old Acquaintance He desired  
Her favour on this begging 〈◊〉 to spread,  
Who with her lustre was already fired:  
Truth gently smiled at his sweet Request,  
And by her Looks her forwardness confessed.   

207.  
Then stooping down where Psyche trembling lay  
Pouring her Tears and Heart before her feet,  
She mildly took her up, and gave her Joy  
That She with Her so happily had met;  
That word she closed with an Embrace, and this  
With the dear Blessing of an heavenly Kiss.   

208.  
As when the courteous vernal Sun draw's near;  
And with his tender Rays doth Earth embrace;  
Her cold and 〈◊〉 Veins begin to cheer,  
New Life and Verdure smile in all her Face;  
Enriched and arrayed She 'gins to be  
With her buy and with floury gailantrie:   

209.  
So Psyche hugged, and gently warmed by  
The Arms and Lips of Truth, soon felt her breast  
Before invelopped in Obscurity  
Now by a pure and precious Light possessed;  
She felt her inward mystic Day arise,  
Which gently flourished through her wondering Eyes.   

210.  
Logos, who had so pert and busy been,  
Was strangely startled at the sudden Sight;  
And now to see his Blindness did begin,  
By the sweet Dawn of this all-opening Light:  
He saw his Blindness, and in seeing this  
Descried withal a thousand Mysteries.   

211.  
And that so clearly, that He feared no more  
What Mists Authades in his Way could throw:  
Agyrtes Charms He scorned, which before  
Into the paths of Darkness him did draw;  
This happy Morn He blessed and kissed, which  
His Eyes with heavens fair Prospect did enrich.   

212.  
For here far more convincing Things He read  
Than were his late-adored Demonstrations;  
No brisk Distinction here durst show her Head,  
Or hope to damp those glorious Probations  
Which on Syneideses herself did get  
Such power, that unto Them her Seal she set   

213.  
Nor less on Thelema this Wonder wrought;  
For with entire and free Submission she  
Bowed down her mighty Neck, and low did lout  
To every Thing which Logoes eye did see;  
And then she hugged them fast within her Heart,  
Resolved never more with them to part.   

214.  
With high and holy Joy replenished  
Was humble Psyche at this happy Sight;  
All Catholic Verities at large were spread  
In her bright Soul, whence Scruples took their flight,  
Resigning all that Region to be  
Possessed by Satisfactions Clarity.   

215.  
Ten thousand Thanks to courteous Truth she paid,  
And would as many times have paid them o'er;  
But Phylax her excess of Passion stayed;  
Telling her she must now employ that Store  
She here had gained, where need called for it, and  
Study how to enrich her native Land.   

216.  
With that she Rose: but straight fell down again  
Before the Throne to pay her Homage to  
The Queen, who now high in her Heart did reign:  
And then with sweeter Cheer prepared to go,  
Having received a Benediction from  
Ecclesia, for her dear Viaticum.   

217.  
But as she went, she blessed the blessed Place;  
And, o how happy are the Souls, said she,  
Who in this Holy Courts illustrious Face  
May be Attendants, and these Glories see  
With constant freedom, which all Heaven can dart  
With one short glimpse on the Spectators Heart!   

218.  
O happy They, who in this Hall may live  
Perpetualy these noble Spoils to read;  
And Acclamations of Honour give  
To Her who all these Monster's Blood did shed;  
To Her whom all the World doth yield to be  
As large as is itself, in Victory.   

219.  
O happy They, who have but leave to dwell  
Here in this preface to that larger Bliss!  
This noble Portch alone doth far excel  
The fullness of all other Palaces:  
This is the Morning unto Glories Day,  
The Brink of Joy, the Top of heavens Highway.   

220.  
O happy They, who in this beauteous Court  
May wait upon the Portch, and feed their Eyes,  
And with their Eyes, their Hearts, in any Sort,  
Upon this House and Home of Mysteries.  
This Neighbourhood to Bliss would serve to be  
Sufficient Felicity for Me.   

221.  
O happy They, who may permitted be  
Even in this Realm of Thorns, and craggy Ways,  
This Field of Hardship and Perplexity,  
This Maze of Fears and Snares, to spend their Days!  
The Prospect to yon Palace would suffice  
To bless and sweeten all Anxieties.   

222.  
O happy They who may remain with Thee,  
Disconsolate Maid, even at this outmost Gate!  
The Comfort but of such Vicinity  
To yon fair Towers, would easily abate  
The trouble of thy Sighs; and ne'er would I  
Repent of Panance's sad Company.   

223.  
With these sweet Plaints she measured her Return,  
Till back unto the Chariot she came:  
And well was Phylax pleassed to hear her Mourn,  
Judging by this how serious was the Flame  
Of her Affection to that Holy Place  
In which her Virgin Bosom fired was.   

224.  
Then mounting up, and gently seating her  
At his right Hand, his mighty Reins he shook  
And these could scarce before his Coursers stir,  
For strait their leap into the Air they took,  
Spreading their Wings wide Oars, by which They through  
The Waves of that soft Ocean did row.   

225.  
For she remembering well what sad Event  
Plagued her affected Stay in Palestine,  
By dear-bought Wisdom learned to be content  
To leave this reverend Place, though more divine  
Temptations here invited her to stay,  
Since wiser Phylax summoned her away.   

226.  
So when a Child, wooed by the sporting Flame,  
Is once but scorched into a feeling Sense  
Of the fairfaced Danger; Fear and Shame,  
Bow him down to his Nurses ' Providence,  
And make Him any 〈◊〉 Lustre shun  
If but her Nod commandeth Him to run.   

227.  
But he to entertain her by the way  
With advantageous Discourse, begun  
To reckon through what worthy Wonders They  
In their 〈◊〉 Pilgrimages Tract had run:  
For Repetitions trusty hand doth grave  
A new Impression, and the old one save.   

228.  
This roused her Soul to recollect how she  
Had by the Conduct of heavens special Grace  
Through thousand Dangers passed untouched, and free,  
Though Hell and all its Wit engaged was,  
In open field to cross, or undermine  
By secret Wiliness her brave Design.   

229.  
A fresh her Mind did feast on every Sweet  
And Wondrous Thing, which all the way she went  
With rich Varieties her Eyes did meet;  
So clear the Angel's Tongue did them present.  
Drawing All out in ample Stateliness  
By the fair Help of Eloquence's Dress.   

230.  
Thus in a double Chariot did she ride;  
But yet in this of his Discourse she fiew  
With swifter speed, out-running even the tide  
Of Time itself; for still her Joys were new,  
Cheating her Weariness as he along  
Through all her Journeys travelled with his Tongue.   

231.  
This tuned her Tongue by her Hearts dainty String  
To honest Gratitude's ingenuous Lays;  
High was her Key and delicate the Song  
Composed to the sweetest Air of Praise:  
For ever may these Lips be sealed, said she,  
When they suppress the Thanks I owe to Thee.   

232.  
To Thee, dear Pilot of my tender Bark,  
Which many Rocks e'er this had dashed in sunder,  
Which oft had wandered in the Deep and Dark,  
Which many Storms proud feet had trodden under,  
Which many Sands into its Grave long since  
Had swallowed up, but for thy stout Defence.   

233.  
To Thee whom no Contempt of mine could drive  
To just Disdam of a vile Worm; to Thee  
By whose dear Care my better Life I live,  
If yet I live at all, and rather be  
Not dead and buried in those Sins which I  
Preferted before the Life of Piety.   

234.  
Yet more I owe to Him, (and more must pay)  
By whose Appointment I enjoyed Thee  
My faithful Guide in this long perilous Way:  
But thou must teach Me what those Thanks must be:  
If they must be myself, I ready am  
This Sacrifice to offer to his Name.   

235.  
His Name, in whose dear Syllables alone  
I read myself, entirely such: For there  
Lives the sweet Soul of that Redemption  
Which snatched me from that 〈◊〉 Bondage, where  
〈◊〉 lay abandoned to the tyrannous Will  
Of Error, Madness, wickedness, and Hell.   

236.  
His Name in which the Praise and Adoration  
Of the Seraphic, and Cherubick Choir  
Rejoice to meet: His Name, of every Nation  
The dearest Joy and sovereign Desire:  
His Name which o'er the whole World's vanquished Pride  
Doth in sublime, but gracious Triumph ride:   

237.  
His Name, the only Music which mine Ear  
Can of no Jars accuse: that lovely Name  
Which when heavens most melodious Orbs do heat:  
They throw aside their other Songs, and frame  
Their Tunes by Jesu's Sweets.— Here off she broke  
Lovingly ravished by the Name she spoke.   

238.  
And here the Steeds, who all this while had flew  
With stout but silent fervour, neighed aloud;  
For now their Journey to its period drew,  
And Albion her chalky Forehead showed;  
Which with erected Ears, and shaked Mains  
They doubled straight, and scoured o'er the Plains.   

239.  
Forthwith, all clouded in their smoking Foam.  
The Chariot they hurled to Psyche's door;  
Where Phylax bid his Pupil welcome home,  
Which She did on her Knee to Him restore;  
And stroking then her Steeds upon the Crest,  
She for their faithful Pains her Thanks professed.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XVII. The Mortification.  
ARGUMENT.  

PSyche embraved by Chari's generous Flames  
Strives in Devotions Furnace to refine  
Her pious self, till with Perfections Beams  
Her pure Spiritualised Life might shine.  
Then Satan she defies, though crafly He  
Came clothed in Angelic clarity.   

1.  
PEace, gentle Queen of every Thing which makes  
Sweets acceptable, Bliss delightful be;  
What satal Conjuration of Mistakes  
Enchanteth Mortal Hearts, that they will see  
Thy Beauties not by their own Light, but by  
The hideous Glass of Wars Deformity!   

2.  
They see the Sun is fair, by his own Beams;  
Gems by their proper Lustre them allure;  
They taste the Fountain's sweetness by the streams;  
The Roses 〈◊〉 Cheek does them assure  
The Flower is beautiful: yet they will not  
Thy Graces read, but by a Stain, and 〈◊〉.   

3.  
Dear is this Learning, and sometimes too late:  
O how much sooner, and much cheaper might  
They all Wars tedious costly study bare,  
If they to Thee would come to School, and write  
From the Original of thy fair Eyes,  
That Book, which dims the Volumes of the 〈◊〉   

4.  
Thy Temper is all Music; never did  
The least of Jars thy sweet 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
From thine, all Concord's 〈◊〉 were copied;  
Nor would the Centre on his 〈◊〉 8 back  
Agree to bear the World, did it Thou not by  
Thy 〈◊〉 Chains the Burden 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

5.  
For at the first, when in th' untuned Deep  
Each Thing was wroth, and snarled with his Brother;  
When Heaven and Earth tumbled in one blind Heap,  
Struggled and strove to stifle one Another;  
When All Things with their peevish selves fell out,  
And in their own Hearts for their Enemies sought.   

6.  
Then Thou with seasonable Love didst come,  
And those wild Tumults sweetly chase away;  
These boisterous Pangs of the World's travelling Womb  
With happy Quietness thou didst allay,  
Making those Embroy's Friends, who never since  
Have to that Knot of love done violence.   

7.  
All rest contented with the Stations Thou  
Appointedst Them; and Earth is pleased as well  
With her poor Habitation here below,  
As any Stars which in heavens Roof do dwell:  
Nor will the Winds, though big they be and proud,  
Desire above the middle Air to crowd.   

8.  
The sirly Sea, who in his boiling Wrath  
Against the shore with mountainous Waves doth make,  
Dreads the poor List of feeble Sand, which hath  
No power that desperate Career to slake,  
Because He reads in it thy potent Law,  
Which back into his Deep doth make him flow.   

9  
All honest Beasts, and sociable, are  
Made such by thy sweet Influence alone:  
In vain the Oaten Pipe, and feeebler Care  
Of Shepherds, up and down the fields would run,  
Didst Thou not first persuade the Sheep to be  
Best pleased with the Flocks Community.   

10.  
Men, whose discording Tempers them invite  
To seek new Worlds their several Minds to please,  
Are by thy 〈◊〉 taught to take delight  
In the kind Unions of Families;  
One House will hold a Brood, when Thou dost join  
To build their Walls, and their Desires combine.   

11.  
No Cities ever could erected be,  
Did not thine Hand the Architecture guide,  
Were not the found Materials by Thee  
For every street, and every Court supplied:  
Their Firmitude to neither Wood nor Stone  
They owe, but to thine Unity alone.   

12.  
Most distant Countries Thou dost Neighbours make  
By safe and friendly Traffic, which doth bear  
One World into another's Lap, and take  
The radiant East from its rich Home, that here  
It may adorn the West, whose mutual Store  
Of other Wealth requites that Golden Ore,   

13.  
Nations whose sundry Languages divide  
Them from the hopes of joint Community,  
Are in one Commonwealth securely tied  
When Thou dost knit the Knot, and make them see  
That All want help of All, and they are best  
Provided, who are of most friends possessed.   

14.  
A Sceptres mighty Load Thou light dost make,  
And wean'st from Weariness the Subjects necks,  
But when They, by self-tyrannous Mistake,  
See not thy Sweets, but their own Patience vex:  
Highnoon is dark to those that will not see,  
And feathers, Led, when Men will tired be.   

15.  
When Thou dost domineer, all Laws do so,  
And fair Astraea ventures down again;  
Right all about the blessed Streets doth go,  
And awful Modesty fails not to chain  
All Rudeness up, which once let loose by War,  
Doth no Extremities of Mischief spare.   

16.  
The coolest Veil could never yet secure  
The bashful Virgin from Lust's rampant fire,  
But when in sober Bounds Thou didst immure  
The youthful Violence of hot Desire:  
Her only Safety lily Chastity  
To thy white Banner owes, and purer Thee.   

17.  
The Gown doth keep the thoughtful Student warm  
Yet not, but when by thy Embraces laced,  
And girded sure by thy encircling Arm;  
Else their poor Garb is presently outfaced  
By Shields and Bucklers, and they forced to try  
What Habit best will suit Them when they fly.   

18.  
All Arts which are of Age and grown complete,  
That Happiness to thy Tuition owe;  
No Honey e'er would choose its dainty Seat  
In Orator's Mouths; no Laurele'r would grow  
On Poet's Temples; if Thou didst not bless  
All Learning's seasons with due fertileness.   

19  
By thy sole Patent Heaven on Earth hath room,  
Churches have licence to be what they are;  
God is permitted here to have an Home,  
And handsome too: Thou puttest in the Bar  
Which bids Prohanesse keep its distance, and  
Learn that there is more than one Holy-land.   

20.  
The Walls to their own Altars cannot yield  
Protection, unless Thou joinst thine aid;  
The Roof cannot the Rites nor Service shield  
When by Heretic Storms they are assayed,  
Except Thou helpest to clear the Air, and stop  
The impious Rage of popular Torrents up.   

21.  
The Theme of everlasting Admiration  
Miraculous Loves selected Mystery,  
The Sacramental Work, to th' usurpation  
Of Lay unwashen Hands expossed doth lie,  
But where this impudent Community  
From the Communion is barred by Thee,   

22.  
The sacred Priests, who never injurcd be.  
By unrevenged Hand, are not secure,  
Though all the reverence of Piety  
In venerable Awe doth them immure,  
Unless thy patent Arm be stretched to keep  
The Shepherds from the Mouths of their own Sheep   

23.  
Our holy Mother cannot safely hold  
Her own Inheritance, so unnatural be  
Her Sons, and sacrilegiously Bold,  
Unless Thou curb'st their cursed Liberty:  
The Church must quickly Bankrupt turn, if Thou  
Her Patrimony dost not safe bestow.   

24.  
Nay Princes, upon whose majestic Head  
God's Name was poured with the sacred Unction,  
No sooner are by Thee abandoned;  
But in despite to their most awful function,  
Of the ingrateful and apostate Scum  
Of their own Vassals they the Scorn become.   

25.  
No Region, though before the Garden where  
The Plenitude of Happiness did grow,  
Forsaken is by Thee, but strait doth wear  
The woeful garb of Misery, and slow  
With Streams of Tears, for those sweet Currents which  
With Milk and Honey did its Meads enrich.   

26.  
But Plenty's Horn in thy fait Arm doth dwell,  
Whence, wheresoe'er thy blessed foot doth tread,  
Thy Benisons thou liberaly dost spill,  
And all the Fields with smiling Fatness spread;  
Whilst the blithe Hinds do pay Thee honest praise  
Not in the Trumpets Roar, but soft Oaten Lays.   

27.  
Away sneaks Vice, when Thou thy face dost show,  
And seeks blind Holes to hide its blacker Head;  
Whose room Thou strait to Virtue dost allow,  
Cheering her up to take sure root and spread  
Her Arms so wide, that all the Country may  
Under her Shade calm Happiness enjoy.   

28.  
O blessed Maid! how long, how long, shall We  
Number our Curses by the Days and Years,  
The tedious Days and Years, which now We see  
All black with sullen Clouds of fatal Fears,  
Whilst Thou art fled, and leav'st our woeful Land,  
In most unnatural Wars destroying Hand!   

29.  
How is unhappy Britain now become  
The Isle of Sorrow, which was once of Joy!  
How have all Monsters made these Fields their Home,  
Where only harmless Sheep were wont to play!  
How are the Guns and Trumpets taught to Roar,  
Where only Pipes of Reed were heard before!   

30.  
How have We stained Albion's lily hue  
In bloody gore, and washed that Name away!  
How has our Red-crosse been too truly true  
Unto its tincture! How are We a Prey  
Unto ourselves, whilst we have made a Sea  
As well amidst Us, as about Us be.   

31.  
A Sea broke open from our own desperate Veins,  
Which to the Crown and Mitre, Shipwreck threats;  
A Sea, in which though some do fish for Gains,  
Yet can they not at length scape their own Nets:  
O no! there's Nothing to be gained bear,  
But certain Loss; which makes the Trade too dear,   

32.  
How have We coined fond Names of Hate, which we  
With Sword and Bullet to the Death pursue!  
Are there no Turks! that thus the Unity  
Gf the brave English Name doth by a new  
Portentous Rent all mastacred appear  
Into the Round-head and the Cavalier!   

33.  
How have We strove our Lion's Nails to pair,  
Who was before the royal Dread and 〈◊〉  
To all the neighbour-Beasts! How has our Fear  
And Jealousy helped their own Cause to grow  
To greater strength! How has our vast 〈◊〉  
But opened our Purse till all be drained thence!   

34.  
Sweet Queen of Joys, o when, when will it be!  
When will the blessed Dawn of thy fair Eyes  
Cheer our benighted Hemisphere, that We  
And all our wont Bliss, with thee may 〈◊〉  
O calm and gentle 〈◊〉, when wilt thou please  
Out Insland 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to appear.   

35.  
When shall We cease with mighty Care and Cost  
To raise the heap of our own Ruins high,  
When shall We yield to be no longer toss  
In Waves of self-affected Misery!  
When shall We with our Pains no longer play!  
When shall We do what We so often say.   

36.  
When shall we cease to make ourselves the 〈◊〉  
Of all that mock at Infelicity!  
When shall We judge ourselves enough forlorn!  
When shall We think our Woes deserving be  
Of our own pity, that our Bowels may  
Henceforth be torn none but that healing way.   

37.  
Prudent and tender Phylax, knew that He  
In both those Titles, nothing could bestow  
Upon his Pupil, which to Her might be  
More fertile in Advantages, than now  
To exile every troublous mist, and clear  
The Countenance of her Habitations Sphere.   

38.  
He knew the worth of Peace, and long ago  
When he had Psyche left in Palestine  
He hither came, and ordered business so  
That all things did into a Calm combine;  
But none could tell it was to entertain  
Psyche, now ready to return again.   

39  
But she arrived at her ancient Home,  
Wondered to find Security made Queen  
Of all that Region; vacant was no room  
For Molestation to be busy in;  
Nor any Gap left open by which she might  
Thrust in her head and Quietness affright   

40.  
Her Friends and Parents much advanced this wonder  
When in their cheerly gratulations they  
Told Her how Peace had trodden all Perils under  
Her blessed feet, and blown the storm away:  
They told it o'er and o'er, and marvelled why  
She turned to 〈◊〉 her mistrusting Eye.   

41.  
But He observing it, thus satisfied  
Her questioning Soul: Suspect no falsehood here,  
Thou 〈◊〉 but what is true; I did provide  
This Calm to bid thee welcome home, my 〈◊〉;  
Thy Voyage finish a is and in this Bay  
And 〈◊〉 of Rest, thy Bark may safely stay.   

42.  
But set Thou 〈◊〉 it still, and keep'st it trim,  
For fear some storm hereafter should arise:  
What Profit is't through dangerous seas to swim  
And 〈…〉 empests Prize?  
 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sleeping Pilots overtakes.   

43.  
Complear 〈◊〉 dwells in no Bay  
But that above to which thine heart doth sail;  
For ever there thy Vessel thou may'st lay  
In certain Peace: But here no Help can bail  
Thee from the Winds arrest, if thou forget  
To do thy part, and thine own 〈◊〉 set.   

44.  
O set them then, and bravely antedate  
The Rest that dwelleth in the Heavenly port;  
'tis worth the price, and more; Atany Rate  
It is not dear; then stick not to give for't  
Thy earnest Wish, and daily Industry:  
No Wealth so rich as genuine Rest can be.   

45.  
If thou repent Thee of thy Bargain, say  
That with false Wares thy Phylax cheated thee,  
And boldiy throw both them and Me away,  
And call the Shore more treacherous than the Sea;  
Conclude all things, but Vanity, are Vain,  
And think Perdition the only Gain.   

46.  
But surely no such desperate Thought will 〈◊〉  
Abuse the Pious Heart of Psyche: No,  
My Hopes are greater of thy holy Care.  
With which mine own shall be combined too  
For as a guard upon thy Guard will I  
My wont Love and Watchfulness employ   

47.  
Scarce had He spoke; but (as the heavenly 〈◊〉  
Into Earth's thirsty Mouth drops copious Joy  
Celestial Charis into Psyche flew,  
Doubling her Welcome home, and making way  
Through her soft Bosom to her softer Heart,  
To which a sweet Embrace She did impart.   

48.  
Nor was there need that She should use her Tongue,  
Whose 〈◊〉 our spoke aloud in Psyche's breast,  
〈◊〉 by 〈◊〉 plying secret language rung  
〈◊〉 more than airy Words could have expressed:  
The Virgin understood its meaning well,  
And 〈◊〉 it close in Her Hearts inmost Cell.   

49.  
(That 〈◊〉 wherein Her Life enshrined say;  
Which now 〈◊〉 up in bounden reverence,  
And to this roy 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 gave willing way:  
For what is Grace s blessed Influence,  
But Life's best Life? which well deserves to be  
Plac d highest in the vital Treasury.)   

50.  
So close She hugged it, that it there grew warm,  
And glowed so hot, that straight it fell on fire:  
The sudden flame sounded a smart Alarm  
Through all Her Breast, and wakened brave Desire;  
Desire the other Forces mustered up,  
And now no Bar her high Design could stop.   

51.  
As when Heroic fervour doth a wake  
A Prince's Heart to take a full survey  
Of all his Realm, and Reformation make  
Of what is swerved from the Laws Highway;  
To his own King, the King of Heaven, He calls  
For Aid, and then to his great Business falls.   

52.  
So prudent Psyche, prostrate on her face,  
Begs Jesus help to speed her 〈◊〉:  
(For Phylax now by 〈◊〉 admonished was  
To snatch himself far from his Pupils eyes:  
In pressed obedience to which Item, He  
Fled straight into invisibility.)   

53.  
Dear Lord, said She, who never dost for sake  
Thy Worms which to thy footstool crawl for aid,  
O pity, pity on thy Hand 〈◊〉 take,  
That She by her Saint Self be not betrayed.  
Thou who vouchsafll to Kindle my 〈◊〉,  
Assist Me, lest it prove an useless 〈◊〉.   

54.  
Well 〈◊〉 thy wronged Majesty how I  
The 〈◊〉 Thou often gavest Me did choke,  
And sent up no Returns at all to thy  
Most 〈◊〉 Heaven but black and stinking Smoke,  
Hell's rank and proper Breath, which once was mine  
When to Cerinthus School I ran from thine.   

55.  
O trust Me not alone; although my Will  
Bravely inflamed and spurred on by Thee,  
Aims at a lofty Mark, yet Psyche still  
Is that unfortunate and feeble She  
Who in her full Careers proves out of breath,  
And when She soars to Life, sinks down to Death.   

56.  
Not for my Credit, but thy Graces, and  
Thine own, in this Design I crave Success;  
Paid only to the Praise of thy high Hand  
Shall be th' Achievements Glory: Psyche is  
Beneath Disgrace, but it in honour does  
Concern thy 〈…〉   

57  
Up slew her Prayer, and knocked at Jesus 〈◊〉  
So loud it knocked, that strait He let it in;  
In, to his Favours Presence-chamber, where  
His gracious Entertainment it did win:  
Its Embassy was heard, and Jesus granted  
What ever Psyche in this business wanted,   

58.  
This bred fresh Courage in her Heart, and She  
With doubled Gallantry adventured on  
Her noble Work: Her ancient Royalty  
Which bold Encroachment oft had trodden upon,  
She meant to rescue, and assert her Crown;  
Though for her Spouse s sake, more than her own.   

59  
A general Court She calls, and summons all  
Her Subjects in, to know her royal Mind:  
Large the Appearance was; both Great and small  
〈◊〉 slocking in; for none durst stay behind,  
So 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 was, and they  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 did expect that Day.   

60.  
No sooner had this 〈◊〉 till a the Hall  
Of 〈◊〉 palace, but in 〈◊〉 State  
Being ballased with her 〈◊〉 and her 〈◊〉  
She thither comes, and takes her 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
Up stood the Company while She 〈◊〉 down,  
And bowed their Heads to 〈◊〉 and to Her 〈◊〉.   

61.  
How kindly She that general Homage took,  
As Earnest of their several Duties, She  
First certified them by her gracious Look,  
(With which she paused a while, for Majesty  
Must not make haste,) then by her softer Tongue,  
From whence her charming Honey thus She Wrung.   

62.  
My multiplied Self, sweet Company,  
In whom as many and as sundry lives  
I live, as you enjoy; how dear and high  
Content to Me your loyal Presence gives,  
I must not tell you now; it were too long  
A Story, and would do the other Wrong;   

63.  
The other Story; which would more than fill  
This Day, as having cost Me several years  
To travel through it, should I try to tell  
Its several Wonders: but against your Earer  
I piot no Tyranny, nor aim to break  
Them on a tedious Narrations Rack.   

64.  
Through many Climates I have whirled been  
By the sweet Conduct of my Guardians Care:  
The world clad in all fasbions I have seen,  
And how their Clothes and Manners Mortals wear;  
Fair Cities, foul Inhabitants; and poor  
Hamlets, yet such as noble Spirits bore.   

65.  
I saw Men live in their Out sides alone,  
Scarce thinking that within a Soul they had:  
And yet, because it was the fashion,  
Themselves a Cloak they of Religion made.  
A Summer Cloak, so light and thin, that they  
Felt it not when upon their backs it lay,   

66.  
I saw the World its fatal Bane embrace,  
And loathe the Antidote of Piety:  
I saw Devotion loaded with Disgrace;  
And humble zeal disdained by those high  
And silken Things, who know no way to be  
Gentile, but Pride, and sinful Liberty,   

67.  
Seveerly-holy-Soules exposed I saw  
To lusty Gallants Scorn and Hatred, who  
Upon their patient Heads the Check did throw  
Of foolish Singularity, though no  
Pretence there were, but that they down the Tide  
Of deep Damnation would not with them ride.   

68  
The holier Stories, whence the Holy-land  
Derived its Name, I by their footsteps read;  
For many still do deep imprinted stand,  
To honest Pilgrims aim to give, and lead  
Their Hearts on in that venerable Path  
Which, for their sakes, Divine Love traced hath.   

69.  
But by that Lesson of Humility  
Both proud and confident I strangely grew;  
My own poor waxen Wings I needs would try,  
And willingly from those stout pinions flew  
Which Phylax always for my service spread  
When sturdy Dangers Me encountered.   

70.  
My Wings, alas, did only me commit  
An helpless Booty to the Birds of Prey;  
For Kites and Vultures strait did me beset,  
Whose foul Heretic Talons plucked away  
My best and fairest Plumes, and did prepare  
My blood and life away with them to tear.   

71.  
But Heaven and Phylax present pity took,  
And snatched me from that fatal Company,  
Unto a Palace whose illustrious Look  
Revived mine, whose generous Courtesy  
More royal Things bestowed on Me, than those  
Plunders wild Law made forfeit to my foes.   

72.  
This was Ecclesias famous Court where I  
Beheld the Miracles of Discipline:  
No spectacle e'er blessed Mortal Eye  
With sights more venerable and divine:  
Upon my Heart they graved themselves so deep  
That their Impression it must ever keep.   

73.  
So sweet a Calm of heavenly Peace was there  
That no Disturbance could itself intrude;  
Which made it genuine Paradise appear,  
All over with harmonious Pleasures strewed.  
His Duty to each Officer was known,  
Who loved it best, because it was his own.   

74.  
And happy are those Courts, and only those,  
Where in all Offices Content doth dwell;  
Where every Courtier, were He put to choose,  
Would only be ambitious to excel  
In his own Place, and covet to appear  
Splendid in none but in his proper Sphere.   

75.  
Such genuine Beams as theirs, can only be  
The comely Glory of a Prince's Court:  
Thus do the prudent Stars above agree  
To swell and garnish heavens Majestic Port.  
Thus every Orb loves his own Way, and on  
His mighty Journey doth with Music run.   

76.  
Thus those more radiant Sparks which on the face  
Of the pure Empyraeum glittering are,  
The holy Angels, hug their proper Place,  
And wish no nobler Work than meets them there.  
And who can say Us Nay, if stoutly we  
Resolve thus to adorn our Polity?   

77.  
Right glorious those Examples are by which  
We are invited thus to Honour's Way:  
What Tongue would not unto its highest Pitch  
Advance itself, to consecrate a Lay  
Of Praise to them? And why should we admire  
That which doth not spur Us unto Desire!   

78.  
All shame forbid our Spirits should flag so low  
As not to pant and reach at Excellence.  
What though it cost Us All a sweeting Brow?  
The Gain will more than cross out that Expense.  
〈◊〉, Ease is the Rust of that brave Metal  
Which strengthens noble Spirits for Virtues Battle.   

79.  
Come then; Henceforth let it Enacted be,  
That All their Bows unto the utmost bend;  
That generous and hardy Industry  
Through all our Court its active Arms extend;  
That every one do in his Office prove  
How much my Credit, and their own they love.   

80.  
Though I be Queen, yet I myself submit,  
And bend my Neck unto this Common Law;  
The Yoke as well for Me, as you will fit,  
And be assured I my part will draw:  
If e'er you see Me shrink, or Labour shun,  
It shall be your Discharge from going on.   

81.  
But if you winch and kick, and will not be  
Partners with Me in our propounded Prize;  
I am no Youngling now, Maturity  
Dwells in my Hand and Brain; will can I poise  
My Sceptre, and know easily how to make  
Those who disdain to how, be fain to break.   

82.  
I paid an high price for that Learning I  
Bought when Agenor made his Market here.  
And who can blame my Prudence, if I try  
To make the most of what cost me so Dear?  
It must, and shall appear, How well I know  
That Kindness makes but Rebels bolder grow.   

83.  
But o, I feel how ill upon my Tongue  
This Threatening relisheth; My Breath should I  
More willingly expend upon a Song  
In Commendation of your Loyalty:  
Your Loyalty, which now, me thinks, I see  
Already flaming to this Law, and Me.   

84.  
She ceased here. When lo, about the Hall  
A musing Silence for a good while lay.  
Divers were there, who thought this Law would fall  
Too soar and heavy on their Backs; yet they  
For fear their Party should appear too weak  
In Votes, durst not their Motions open make.   

85.  
Not with their Tongues: But with their Eyes about  
The Room they walked, and questioned one another:  
In every Look they met with Hope, and Doubt,  
Which mutualy their trembling Selves did smother:  
Their Shoulders some & some their Heads did shake,  
Confessing what they were afraid to speak.   

86.  
At length presuming it the safer way  
Their Vessels down the potent Stream to steer,  
They with the rest, resolved to Obey  
What they could not withstand. Thus thankless Fox  
Of being broken by the Winds, doth make  
The lazy Clouds long voyages to take.   

87.  
The whole Assembly thrice bowed to the ground,  
And 〈◊〉 professed their Thanks unto their Prince,  
Whose careful Wisdom such a way had found  
To yoke her Subjects unto Excellence:  
And may Rebellions Brand and Curse, said they  
Mark and revenge all them that disobey.   

88  
Thus passed the Act: which being fairly writ,  
Upon the middle palate of the Hall,  
Was hung by Psyche 〈◊〉 Command, that it  
Might of their Duties daily warn them all.  
So is the Rod stuck up at School, whose look  
Doth awe the idle Children to their Book.   

89.  
But She to practise what was now Decreed,  
Begins with Them who easiest were to tame;  
That their Example afterward might breed  
A strong and stinging Argument of shame  
To lash those Servants who more manly were  
If they, more weakly, should their Task forbear.   

90.  
Her Porters five, she called one by one,  
Their several Instructions to take.  
Opsis was first, to whom she thus begun:  
Although thy Place and Nature Thee do make  
In most Discoveries apt and quick, yet I  
Further than thou, can into some things spy.   

91.  
Believe Me then, thou hast most need to be  
Jealous of what usurpeth Beauty's face;  
Danger is politic, and Treachery  
Too wise to lodge in a suspected Place.  
The richest Soil the rankest Weeds doth bear;  
The deepest Holes in silent Rivers are.   

92.  
That Apple which bewitched our Grandames Eyes,  
Was in Pomona's goodliest Robe arrayed;  
It's plump and ruddy Cheeks did fairly rise,  
And seeming Smiles in all its Countenance played;  
But yet such Venom in its Juice did lie,  
As poured on all the World Mortality   

93.  
Fair were the Grapt unto good Noah's Eye,  
Nor with less Pleasure fanned they on his Taste;  
His unsuspecting Heart was also by  
Their sweet Enchantments ravished, till at last  
His treacherous Guest tripped up his heels, and bore  
Him over shamefully upon the Floor.   

94.  
Elisha's Servant saw no cause of Fear  
In the Wild Vine, whose Gourds did him invite  
To fill his Lap; so delicate they were,  
And held such Correspondence with his sight:  
Yet, cheated Man, He did he knew not what,  
And shred abundant Death into the Pot.   

95.  
The wisest Prince, but Heavenly Wisdoms King,  
To Folly was betrayed by his Eyes;  
Which in his Queen's bright Beauties rioting,  
Prevailed with Him first to Idolise  
Those Female Powers; and then fall down before  
What he set up, and Stocks and Stones add o'er.   

96.  
When Judas Eyes would needs enamoured be  
Of dangerous moneys gaudy glistering face,  
Those richer Beams they could no longer see  
Whose pure Exuberance did his Master's grace:  
But he, blind Traitor, to eternal Night  
Betrayed himself in scorning Jesu's light.   

97.  
That gorgeous Fruit which dangled on the Trees  
That shaded Asphaltite's cursed shore,  
Outvied in fragrant Gold th' Hesperides  
Renowned Boughs, and more Enticements wore  
Upon its Cheeks; and yet this Stateliness  
Was but of Ashes and of Stinks the Dress.   

98.  
Be wary then in time, for fear some Bait  
Do ssiely steal an Hook into thine Eye;  
For fear some sweet and beauteous Deceit  
Pour Bitterness on thy Credulity.  
Security delights in Fears meek Cell,  
But scorns in Confidence's Towers to dwell.   

99  
Thou never wilt repent thee of thy Cost  
If thou Watch before thine Eyes dost set;  
Two nimble Lids thou always ready haste,  
Which, if thou wilt, all Dangers out can shut.  
O let it not be said, that thou dost keep  
Those Curtains only to enclose thy sleep.   

100  
When Dinah's Eyes would needs be gadding out,  
And walk in Hamors Court; though honest she  
Only to feed her curious Fancy sought,  
Ensnared she was in Shechems' Treachery,  
And, silly Maiden, suddenly became  
An Holocaust to Lust's unhappy Flame.   

101.  
Be prudent then, and never waste thy Look  
On any Thing but what concerneth thee:  
Thy proper Business is the safest Book  
On which thy Studies can employed be;  
If thou on any other cast thine Eyes,  
Thou only Errors readst and Heresies.   

102.  
Thou seest what Task I set Thee, that thou mayst  
Be safe and happy, as myself would be.  
So shall thy Tears be useless, when Thou hast  
No Crimes to wash; so shall the Bravery  
Of thy sweet Beams for ever be entire,  
And fear no mischief from Hell's gloomy Fire.   

103.  
The time will surely come, and shortly too,  
Which will this Abstinence of thine requite,  
When thou shalt rove and unrestreined go  
Through all the Beauties which make Heaven so bright:  
Discredit not with Earthly sights, those Eyes  
Which are designed to read the glorious skies.   

104.  
The glorious skies; and what more glorious is,  
The gallant Eyes of Jesus, whose divine  
Irradiations of eternal Bliss  
And royal sweetness upon them shall shine,  
When they have done their duty here beneath,  
And shall by Him awakened be from death.   

105.  
Which duty surely never will be done,  
By dwelling on that Mirror in thine Hand;  
That brittle Emblem of Corruption,  
Which though a polished outside doth commend,  
Is yet wellnear as slight a thing and vain  
As is the Image that it doth sustain.   

106.  
This Charge with anxious and dejected Look  
Opsis received, and trembled at its weight:  
That tremor threw her Mirror down, and broke  
It on the ground: which she observing, straight  
With many a foolish Tear its Death lamented,  
And took her leave, unwillingly contented.   

107.  
The next was Acoe; who came dancing in,  
And with her wanton fingers tripped o'er  
Her tickled Lute; by which she hoped to win  
The favour of her awful Sovereign; for  
She felt the Pulse of every string, to see  
Where d welled the sweetest Soul of Melody.   

108.  
Psyche, until the galliards Close, was mute:  
But then, she said, now lend thy heed to me,  
Who will requite thy Lays: I grant thy Lute  
Cheered and encouraged by Arts Bravery,  
May pant thee Airs more sweet in thy esteem,  
Than from my Lips into thine Ears can stream:   

109.  
But what is sweetest, is not always best,  
And therefore not so sweet as is its Name:  
Else the Enchanters Pipe must be confessed  
To merit all the loudest Trumpets of Fame,  
Although its Tunes Hells dangerous Hisses be,  
Skinned fairly over with false Harmony.   

110.  
Else should the warbling Siren be preferred  
Before the Linnet and the Nightingale,  
Although no roaring Tempest e'er were heard  
Which with more certain Poril did assail  
The Mariner, unless with timely Care  
Against her Music He sealed up his Ear.   

111.  
Else the Hyaena, who with friendly tone  
Knocks at the Door, unto the Lambs should be  
As courteous as his Salutation,  
Though all his meaning be but Treachery;  
And that same Mouth which them bespoke so fair,  
Prepared be the silly Sheep to tear.   

112.  
Else should the Parasite, whose Trade it is  
To feed and clothe Himself by praising Thee,  
And stroking all thy rankling Wickedness,  
Be a more useful trusty Friend, than He  
Who for thy breeding Cankers sure prevention  
Applies the Corrosive of sound Reprehension.   

113.  
Remember Acoe, with what wiley Words  
The Serpent ointed Eve's imprudent Ears:  
Yet all the Syllables were two-edged swords,  
Long-bearded Arrows, or envenomed Spears;  
Which flew not only through Her careless Heart,  
But to the End of all the World did dart.   

114.  
That Serpent seeing what himself had done;  
Took wise and wary Warning ever since:  
So did his cunning Generation  
Who stop their Ears against the Influence  
Of soft Enchantments. And it can be no  
Disgrace to learn a Virtue of thy Foe.   

115.  
Had Delilahs' tongue not been so Musical,  
It ne'er had ventured upon Sampsons' might,  
Nor in his Chamber conquered more than all  
Philistia's Powers could do in open fight.  
But when the strongest Bands were all in vain,  
With her soft-language she did Him enchain.   

116.  
Puffed with Heav'n-daring Pride and Victory,  
Great Holofernes feared no dint of Fear,  
When walled in with his vast Army He  
Vowed, the Jews stock up by the roots to tear:  
Yet judith's glozing Tongue made Him her Prey.  
His Heart first, than his Head she stole away.   

117.  
O then let Prudence stop thy sober Ear  
When any worldly Charm doth tune its strings;  
Much happier is it to be deaf, than hear  
The Music of those faithless Flourishing,  
Which slily stealing to thine Heart, will there  
With everlasting Jars thy Conscience tear.   

118.  
The Voice of Truth, though wondrous plain it be,  
Flows with more Honey than all Tongues beside;  
With Honey so sincere, that Purity  
Itself a long with all its Streams doth glide:  
Here mayst Thou be Luxuriant, yet thine Ear  
No Surfeit from this Fullness needs to Fear.   

119.  
Let others slandered with the Name of Pride;  
I'll style it Virtue in Thee to disdain  
That empty Foam of Prattle, which doth ride  
Upon the idly-busy Tongues of vain  
And shallow Men, who though they all the Day  
Spin out their long Discourses, Nothing say.   

120.  
Have patience tickling Accents to forbear  
A while, that Thou the best of them mayst gain:  
Years post about apace; the Time draws near  
When thou exalted on heavens glistering Plain  
With those rich Notes shalt entertained be  
Whose Consort makes the Sphearik Melody.   

121.  
My Philax's blessed Voice there shalt Thou hear,  
And all the Winged Choir, whose dainty Tongues  
The Triumphs and the Joys of Heaven do cheer  
With the brisk Raptures of their lofty Songs:  
Songs which no Ears must drink, but those which are  
On purpose kept, and not enchanted here.   

122.  
On Acoe so hard this Lesson grated,  
That in her Heart she wished she had been deaf:  
Yet since their old Rebellion was defeated,  
She feared the Senses could have no Relief  
By standing out: And well she knew beside,  
Who most should feel it when her Queen did chide.   

123.  
She Sighed, and let her Lute-strings down, as though  
She loosened had with them those of her Heart  
And then, O sweetest Womb of Pleasures, how  
Shall Acoe live, said she, now I must part  
With Thee! And here She fetched another Sigh,  
And kissed her Lute, and gently laid it by.   

124.  
Next, Osphresis came in; who in one Hand  
Courted a Civet Box, and in the other  
A nest of Rose-budds built upon a wand  
Of Juniper, and neatly set together.  
Which Psyche seeing, Use it warily,  
Roses wear Pricks, as well as Leaves, said She.   

125.  
Could all the Balm of Gilead, all the spice  
Of happy Arabia, but inform Thee how  
To counterplot those fatal Miseries  
Whose certain seeds in thine own heart do grow,  
I could approve such Helps: But They We know  
Are frail and mortal Things, as well as Thou.   

126.  
Alas so deep Corruption rooted is  
Even in the Centre of thy fading Breast,  
That O dours strive in vain to weed and dress  
The tainted Soil. How largely 'tis confessed  
By former Ages dead and rotten now,  
How sure Mortality in Man doth grow!   

127.  
And shall the Son and the Apparent Heir  
Of Rottenness, misspend his Time upon  
Unnecessary Sweets, by which the Air  
Trimmed and enriched is, and that alone?  
Sweets which each silly Wind which whisketh by  
Snatcheth, and scattereth in proud Mockery?   

128.  
Why shouldst Thou take such Pains to make the Prey,  
Of stinking Worms so sweet and dainty? why  
Upon perfumed Pillows wouldst Thou lay  
Thine Head, when it to rot must only lie?  
This Cost and Pains for nothing useful be  
But doubling of Corruptions Victory.   

129.  
Wert not a cheaper, and a wiser plot  
Aforehand with displeasant Smells to be  
Acquainted, that the brackish Grave may not  
By being strange, be bitterer to Thee?  
At least not to be tainted with the Sweet  
Contagion which in Perfumes We meet?   

130.  
O Osphresis, that Thou didst truly know  
What Crops of Odours and what Beds of Spice;  
What Hills of Sweets, what Plains of flowers grow  
In the delicious Lap of Paradise;  
Thou couldst not choose but generously disdain  
These poor Perfumes of Earth to entertain.   

131.  
Yet all the purest Names of Odours are  
Short of that everlasting Incense which  
From heavens high Altar doth its volumes rear,  
And Blessedness itself with sweets enrich.  
Save than thyself for these which will one day  
Thine Abstinence with Plenitude repay.   

132.  
And yet mean while I will to thee allow  
Far richer sweets then those Thou throw'st away;  
In virtue's Garden do but walk, and 〈◊〉 thou  
Shalt meet such spicy Breathes of holy Joy,  
As will compel thy ravished Soul to think  
This World's Gentilest sent, but precious stink.   

133.  
Such Breathes as will perfume thy heart indeed,  
And all thy Thoughts and Words aromatize,  
Until their odorous Emanations breed  
Delight in Gods own Nostrils, who doth prise  
The sweetness of all Incense by the sent  
Of the meek sacrificers pure intent.   

134.  
Here Osphresis thrice on her Civet, and  
Thrice on her smiling Posy smelled; but yet  
At length she dropped them out of either Hand,  
When she perceived Psyche's Countenance set  
With a wfull Resolution, and straight  
As Geusis entered, meekly did retreat.   

135.  
Geusis brought in her Hand an Honeycomb,  
Which prompted Psyche thus the Maid to greet:  
What if that Nest of sweetness hath no room  
For any thing that is entirely Sweet?  
What if the Bee hath in that Cabinet  
More of her sting, than of her Honey set?   

136.  
Full hard it is to eat no more than may  
True friendship keep 'twixt safety and delight,  
The least Excess will Thee to Pangs betray,  
And break thy Work by day, thy Rest by night.  
Indeed a surfeit goes most sweetly down,  
But straight with Gall the heart is overflown.   

137.  
The raging Sword's a keen and ravenous Thing,  
Witness whole Armies swallowed up by it:  
Yet Luxury doth wear a sharper sting,  
And wider open her hungry Throat is set.  
No reeking steel thou ever yet didst see  
Blush in the guilt of so much Blood as She.   

138.  
Of his Sobrieties sage stayed weight  
Had great Belshazzar not been cozened by  
The cruel sweetness of her soft Deceit,  
He had not in heavens scale of Equity  
Been found so light, as by Darius down  
From his high Empire's Zenith to be blown.   

139.  
Of Her in time had Dives taken heed,  
When in each Dish for him She lay in wait,  
When into every Bowl herself she shed,  
And made of each superfluous Bit, a Bait;  
Beneath the wretched Gallant had not lain  
Acting poor Lazarus his part in vain.   

140.  
His broiled Tongue had not so clamorous been  
In lamentable Out-cries to obtain  
No crowned Cups of lusty foaming Wine,  
But a few drops of Water, to restrain  
Those free and jovial flames which now did try  
On him another kind of Luxury.   

141.  
But Lazarus, whose meek ambition was  
No more than with this gluttons Dogs to be  
A Commoner; unto the sweet Embrace  
Of Abraham, and of Felicity  
Mounted on Angels Wings did ride, and there  
Enjoyed a fuller Feast than Dives here.   

142.  
Wise Saint, his stomach he had saved, that he  
With a full appetite might thither go  
Where sumptuous dainties in their Kingdom be,  
And purest Pleasures by whole Rivers flow:  
And if thou after him wouldst thither climb,  
Be sure to trace his footsteps here in time.   

143.  
I know the Boards of many holy Souls  
In fatness often have been seen to shine,  
On which their golden overflowing Bowls  
Foamd with the heat of aromatic Wine:  
But canst thou say that they themselves did so?  
Surely their Looks and Lives will tell thee no.   

144.  
This constant Plenty did but keep them to  
Their Temperance's daily Exercise;  
They into hardy Virtue's Lists did go  
When to their Boards they went, to play the prize  
Of Abstinence, and try their conquering might  
On that arrayed Army of Delight.   

145.  
Heroic 〈◊〉 were these, who hedged in by  
A siege of superfluity could yet  
Maintain brave Moderation; but thy  
Metal and Tempt, Geusis, are not fit  
To wage War with Temptations; No, 'tis well  
If thou by flying canst thy safety steal.   

146.  
To a spare Diet 〈◊〉. There thou may'st eat  
And drink thine Health; but never in Excess:  
Excess makes Sickness reek in all thy Meat,  
And with thy Liquor doth full Surfeits press  
Into thy Bowl; by which before thou art  
Aware, thy Head is drowned, choked thy Heart   

147.  
But sovereign Fasting never fails to be  
An happy Purge where these bad Humours reign;  
Whilst other Physic drains thy Purse, not thee.  
This never doth Evacuate thy Coin.  
Not operate on any thing but those  
Who are thy Bodies or thy Spirits Foes.   

148.  
Thou knowst my meaning now: But know withal  
I love thee better than to let thee be  
Unpunished, if thou shalt swerve or fall  
From this fair Path unto Felicity,  
And with such Ballast stuff thyself as will  
It Heaven prevent not, lag thee down to Hell.   

149.  
Close all this while had Geusis held her Comb;  
But the smart dint of this last Word did smite  
It from her Hand, and spill it in the Room;  
At which the sullen Maid began to bite  
Her lips, but marking then stern Psyche's Ey,  
She bowed her head, and made her will comply.   

150.  
Scarce was she out, but mincing Haphe came,  
Whose Hands were in a Muff of Sables drowned;  
Her Body was disposed in a frame  
Of wide and easy Clothes, courting her round  
With silken flattering softness; neither Pin  
Nor Seam presumed to touch her dainty skin.   

151.  
Psyche smiled at the sight: And what, said she,  
If that soft furniture grow thick with 〈◊〉?  
If Hair or Sackcloth far more gentle be  
Which close and straight on hardy Bodies sticks?  
Alas the Wounas of 〈◊〉 more dangerous far  
Than those of sharpest Swords and Arrows are.   

152.  
Those Weapons wounds can never further sink  
Then to the Body's bottom; but a proud  
Attixe doth sadly soak the Soul, and drink  
Its best blood up; nor knows she how to shroud  
Herself from this Mishap so long as she  
〈◊〉 her Delight on outward Bravery.   

153.  
Potiphera was deepar wounded by  
The delicacies of her soft Array,  
Than holy Joseph who did clothed lie  
With Chains, although the Iron made a way  
Into his Soul: Her wounds did her destroy,  
His cured their Earthly Pain with Heavenly Joy.   

154.  
Thou knowst in what a soft and curious dress  
Madam Herodias danced down to Hell;  
Whilst reverend John arrayed in simpleness.  
All 〈◊〉 offspring nobly did excel;  
And though in Herod's Court despised, yet  
Plain as he was, he into heavens was let.   

155.  
Hadst thou beheld his homespun Camel's hair,  
And lethern-Thong which did his Loins embrace;  
How would thy Lawns, thy Silks, thy Sables dare  
To show their cowardly effeminate face?  
How would thy worthless skin endure to see  
Itself in fairer Robes than glorious He?   

156.  
Hadst thou beheld that course and rural suit  
Which Gods own wisdom did for Adam make;  
How would the sight thy gallantry confute  
Who all the dainties of the World wouldst rake  
Thy vulgar Carcase to array, when he  
The King of Earth, in Skins must clothed be!   

157.  
God's Copy satisfied the Saints of old, 
(〈◊〉 11. 37   
Who sought no further than the skins of sheep  
And goats, in which their own they did enfold;  
And from that rude and plain Plantation reap  
A royal Harvest, now being clothed by  
The glittering Robes of Immortality.   

158.  
No Beds of wanton Down desired they 
11. 38   
Wherein to lose themselves, but were content  
In Dens and Caves their manly Heads to lay;  
Where they to Rest with suller Comfort 〈◊〉  
Than pompous lusty Solomon, when he  
Stepped up his Couch of stately Ivory.   

159.  
Nor was it ever known that Perl did lie  
In any shells but wondrous course and plain;  
That any Search could Gold and Silver spy  
But nestled in some dark and dirty vein  
Of Earth; that gallant Sparks of Fire could rest  
But in some rude Flints black unlikely Breast.   

160.  
I grant Distinctions of Degrees require  
Such Garbs as may their Dignities proclaim;  
Not that they by their outside beams aspire  
To gaudy foolish Glory; since their Aim  
Is, or should only be, by this fine Art  
Their Places proper honour to assert.   

161.  
Else the perversly-blear, and peevish Eye  
Of rude and stubborn Mortals would not see  
What awful Lustre flames in Majesty;  
Nor how the Sacerdotal Temples be  
With venerable Privileges crowned,  
Which from their sacred Office doth redound.   

162.  
This made heavens Ordination of old,  
The consecrated Body of the Priest  
With reverence-commanding Gems and Gold,  
And finest Linens Purity invest.  
But what's all this to thee, whose private State  
All public Ornaments may well abate?   

163.  
My peremptory Pleasure therefore is  
That thou the best Examples copy out;  
Since thou delighted art with Tenderness,  
Be Tender of thy Bliss; and never doubt  
But that will softer prove, and warmer be  
Than are thy Wishes, and that Muff to thee.   

164.  
Almost as loath as the Beasts back which bred  
That furtie Skin at first, did part with it,  
Haphe, by this sweet Violence conquered,  
Dropped down her Muff, and did her head submit.  
But yet she shrunk her Shoulders, and betrayed  
She thought the Load sad which on them was laid.   

165.  
Psyche, her Cinque-Ports being thus secured,  
For 
* The Tongue  Glossa called; who cheerfully came in,  
And with a thousand Compliments alured  
The good opinion of her frowning Queen:  
But thou mistaken art, said She, for I  
By numerous Phrases count not Loyalty   

166.  
Truth's quickly said; for pure unspotted she  
Delights in her own genuine Nakedness,  
And scorns that ceremonious Bravery  
Which Flatteries deformity doth dress.  
Dull Wood alone doth Vernice need, but Gems  
Are brave in their own native naked Beams.   

167.  
Much Talk is either stretched out by lies  
Which poison all the Streams wherein they flow;  
Or tricked up with handsorne Vanities,  
Which like fond Ribbons serve but for a show,  
And rather catch Spectators Eyes, than tie  
That unto which their false Knots they apply;   

168.  
The idle froth which plays upon the face  
Of troubled Waters, swelleth not with Wind  
So thin and faint and sleight and empty, as  
Is that which bubbles from a roiled Mind,  
When overflowing Wisdoms sober 〈◊〉  
In drunken Prattle on the Lips it swims.   

169.  
As thy next Neighbour Geusis soon may be  
Luxurious by too much Taking in;  
So thou must of an opposite Luxury  
Be careful; for if once thy Lips begin  
To give the Reins to Words, it is great chance  
But they will drown thee in Intemperance.   

170.  
Silence, her Master never did undo  
But o how guilty is Multiloquie  
Of this unhappy Treason! Nature, who  
The Danger spied by Providences eye,  
Was studious this Mischief to prevent,  
Whilst unto thee a double Guard she lent.   

171.  
The outer are thy Lips, which though they be  
But soft and tender, yet their two-leaved Door  
So close they shut, that not the first Degree  
Of Words, not Breath itself, has power to boar  
Its way, but forced is to go about,  
And through the Notes Sluices wrestle our.   

172.  
The inner are thoso Ranks of Ivory  
Which strougly barracadoe up thy way;  
No itching busy Bubble can get by  
Except its Passage these to it betray.  
'tis no hard task for thee to rest in peace,  
Who strengthened art by two such 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

173.  
Before Thou speakest, Thou art Queen alone  
And hast the free command of thine own Thought;  
But unto foreign Jurisdiction  
Thou yieldest it when Words have blown it out,  
For straight 'tis subject to the cruel Laws  
Of every Auditors censorious Jaws.   

174.  
When thou giv'st leave to other Tongues to walk,  
They travel for thy Gain; if Wise he be  
Who speaks, thou learnest Wisdom by his Talk,  
If Foolish, thou getst by his Vanity  
A wholesome Warning: But when thine own Cock  
Alone doth run, thou spendest on the Stock.   

175.  
Fear no discredit by Pauciloquie;  
All Jesu's footsteps high and noble are,  
Never was humble Sheep more mute than He  
Before those who his humane fleece did shear:  
And if the Word himself was not ashamed  
Of Silence, why should it in Thee be blamed?   

176.  
What will it boot thee to enhance the score  
Of these Debts which to heavens Judge thou dost owe:  
A strict Acconnt Thou must give up before  
His dreadful Throne, of all the Words that flow  
From thee in vain; why then wilt Thou to death  
Be sentenced by thine own lavish Breath?   

177.  
Improve it rather in a holy Thrift,  
And unto Heaven let it thy Prayers blow,  
Or thy loud Hallelujahs thither lift;  
And not, like wanton Winds, play here below.  
But if Thou needs wilt idly prattle, I  
Must deal in 〈◊〉 with thy Vanity.   

178.  
No Word could Glossa unto this reply,  
But looked demurely, and obeisance did:  
Her congee to withdraw, in Psyche's Eye  
And in her Nod, no sooner did she read,  
But out She meekly went, and left the room  
Unto the Passions who were thither come.   

179.  
As these in order stood before the Throne,  
With serious Looks the Queen first awed Them;  
Then thus She spoke: Now you are here alone,  
I am content to tell you what esteem  
I have of you, so long as you can be  
What Heaven has made you, to yourselves, and Me.   

180.  
Of all the Commons which Allegiance owe  
To this my Crown, I you repute the best;  
More quick and generous Service you can show  
Than those whose utmost Faculties do rest  
In gross exterior things, which only are  
Labouring in Sensibilities dull Sphere.   

181.  
Upon your backs I can far higher slice,  
And with more speed, than on the Senses Wings:  
By you I welcome bid, or I defy  
The Tributes which to Me their Service brings:  
You are the lively Mirror which presents  
My dispositions truest Lineaments.   

182.  
The inward Body of the Soul are you,  
The Outside of the hidden Heart: All springs  
Which peep up there, apparently do flow  
In your free Channels; the abstrusest Things  
Which in the Minds dark Temper nestling lie,  
By you exposed are to every Eye.   

183.  
But as your natural Power and Worth is high,  
So is the Gild of your Extravagance:  
Though Worms, the Sons of Dirts all nuzzling 〈◊〉  
In their Dame's bosom, they do not enhance  
Their Baseness; but should Birds do so, in them  
The Crime would foul and most unnatural seem.   

184.  
Be then but truly what you are; but fly  
In your own Sphere; and you shall surely meet  
Together with your own felicity  
My Praise and Love: damp not that generous 〈◊〉  
Whose embers in your Veins desire to flame  
Into the lustre of eternal fame.   

185.  
Love know thyself, and own an holy Pride;  
Thine Arms were never framed to embrace  
Such low and worthless things as can abide  
Beasts for their Owners: Never then disgrace  
The gallantry of thy illustrious Wings  
By flagging here about vile earthly Things.   

186.  
Though to Humilities submissive Law  
Thou a sworn subject art; thine Aim may be  
At Excellency's fairest Top; for know  
That Meekness traceth Jesu's steps; and He,  
Even through Contempts black Valley, did ascend  
To Glories brightest Throne at God's right Hand.   

187.  
Virtue, and Heaven (the soil whence it did spring)  
Exposed are to Thee a noble Prey:  
If rotten Earth can more allurements bring,  
More Worth, more satisfaction, than They;  
Pour Scorn upon Them, and thyself apply  
To hug the Pleasures of Mortality.   

188.  
The great Adventures of all Saints deride,  
Who spent their lives those Prizes to obtain;  
And bless those Spirits who swum down the Tide  
Of 〈◊〉 short Sweets, into that Gulf of Pain  
Where endless Horrors boil, and where even Love  
Itself is changed, and doth Hatred prove.   

189.  
Fear, be not Thou afraid to know thy Part:  
'Tis not to Quake at all the Powers which Hell  
Or Earth can band against thy jealous Heart:  
Those Tempests all are chained, and can swell  
No highet than that Hand permits, which is  
Stretch d out to shield Thee from their Boisterousnes.   

190.  
See'st Thou that single Hair which shivering lies  
Upon thy Breast, & dreads the gentlest Wind?  
Were all th' Aerial Principalities  
Into one Knot of Violence comb ined,  
'T would pose their Might and Wit to tear it thence,  
If stopped by that Hand of Providence.   

191.  
Thy duty is to tremble at the Sight  
Of that foul Monster which makes Hell so black;  
Sins face alone is that which needs affright  
Thy tender Eyes; a Face, whose Beams can make  
The Basilisks fell Emanations yield  
To them the glory of all Poisons field,   

192.  
Yet if thy wilful Eyes will not attend  
Unto the Terrors of that dismal Look;  
View but the Horrors of a Cursed End,  
And make Eternal flames a while thy Book;  
There shalt Thou read what will deserve to be  
With frightful Quaking ente rtained by Thee,   

193.  
And in this shaking fit shalt Thou admire  
What Madness makes fond Men to tremble at  
The frowns of Fortune, or a Prince's Ire;  
Yet never fear the Wrath of Vengeance, that  
Enraged by Brimstone in the Burning Pit,  
Gapes wide for All who, slighting, merit it.   

194.  
But when with soft and gentle Tremor Thou  
Wousd'st sweetly exercise thyself, apply  
Thy reverend Thoughts to Him upon whose Brow  
Sits the bright Crown of highest Majesty:  
God to wards thire will his own Eyes incline,  
And on thy Heart with dainty Awe will shine.   

195.  
And thou, stern Hatred, as relentless be  
As Rocks, or Souls of Tigers, in thy Spite;  
But see the Dart of this thy Cruelty  
Miss not its proper Butt; thine only fight  
Must be with Wickedness, on which accursed  
And dangerous Enemy, do all thy worst.   

196.  
All other Foes, how fell so e'er, belong  
Unto Love's Jurisdiction, for She  
Knows how revenge to take on any Wrong  
By drowning it in mighty Charity:  
Thy Wrath is sharp, but Hers is gentle; Thou  
With Steel dost break but She with Warmth doth thaw.   

197.  
Be wary then to guide thy Stroke aright,  
For close the Sin and Sinner joined are;  
Lest when against the Crime Thou think'st to fight.  
Unto the Person thou extend'st thy War:  
The Person's Gods, who Nothing Hates which He  
Hath made, and therefore will not suffer Thee.   

198.  
Hope, lavish not thy fruitless Expectation  
On any Birth which this World forth can bring;  
Why shouldst Thou dance Attendance on Vexation:  
On Wind, on Froth, on Shadows vanishing  
In their original; and gape to be  
Replenished with pure Vacuity?   

199.  
On Fullness rather wait, and lift thine Eye,  
Thy longing Eye, to Heaven, where it doth dwell;  
Far off indeed the Object is, but thy  
Discerning Power at distance doth excel:  
Be brave, and confident, Thou canst not miss  
A Mark so ample, and so fair as this.   

200.  
Since Absence than is Nothing unto Thee  
But its bare Name, (for to thy reaching Eye  
The Thing is Present, though it hidden be  
In the dark Bosom of futurity,)  
O be Fruition; 〈◊〉 thy 〈◊〉.  
And climb 〈◊〉 into 〈◊〉.   

201.  
But Thou, tart Anger, nev r gad abroad  
To find Meat for thy washpish Appetite,  
Home will supply Thee with sufficient food.  
Food which would fatten Thee with true Delight:  
What faults soever Thou espiest here,  
Fall to, and make thee merry with the Cheer.   

202.  
This Item doth no less belong to Thee  
Pale thoughtful Jealousy; Let no surmise  
Of Others Bus nes breed Perplexity  
In thine; but in ward turn thy prying Eyes,  
And give the reins to thy Suspicion here  
In any thing which is not fair and clear.   

203.  
I give thee leave, even not to spare thy Queen;  
Be diligent, and if thou wilt seveer;  
For such an One in time past hadst Thou been,  
Immured safe in neversleeping fear  
Psyche could not have lain subdued by  
The Charms of Lust, and fouler Hercsy.   

204.  
Yet Sorrow, thou thy Tears may'st safely spend  
On foreign and on public Mischiefs; Thou  
Mayst help Compassion freely to extend  
Her reaching Bowels, and her Bounty show  
In sympathetick Tenderness to All  
Whom tyrannous Disasters hold in Thrall.   

205.  
Provided, all thy Store thou pourest not forth  
To quench thy Neighbours flames, but savest some  
To wash away the stains which from thy Birth  
Have daily multiplied here at Home.  
These well deserve them; but no Drop shalt Thou  
On any Temporal Loss of mine bestow.   

206.  
O no! A Tear's nobler Thing than so,  
Nor must be squandered in such vain Expense:  
No Oriental Pearls, though married to  
Some rich Embroidery, show such pretence  
To Beauty; as the precious Beads, whose Mine  
Lives in the fertile Womb of humane Eyn.   

207.  
Let wanton Fortune take her proud Delight  
In trampling on what Error Goods doth call;  
That Title on their Back cannot sit right  
Which at vain Changes beck must Rise and fall:  
Let her insult; why should thy Tears flow down  
For Fortune's fault, and not lament thine own?   

208.  
Joy, thou hast heretofore too careless been  
In distribution of thy lavish Smiles;  
What is't to Thee, if fields abroad are green,  
If Plenty with her Bliss thy Coffers fills,  
If any thing without Thee prospers, when  
Thou poor, and parched, and barren art within:   

209.  
If thou at Home canst nothing worthy find  
Of thy applauding Notice; no brave feat  
Of resolute Virtue, no soul-plying Wind  
Of Heav ns great Spirit, no adventarous Heat  
Of holy Love; alas thy Merriment  
Is but th' Hypocrisy of Discontent.   

210.  
'Tis but a Shadowy Dreaming Pleasure which  
Doth float and play in thy fantastic Brain,  
And cannot unto thy Heart's Region reach  
Which still beclowded is with pensive Pain:  
Yea even thy Laughter doth with Wrinkles plow,  
Thy face, and in thy Mirth, Cares Visage show.   

211.  
Wherefore in God, and what of Him in thy  
Own bosom thou canst see, fix thy Delight:  
And then walk out; yet only to descry  
What Hearts do pant like thine; that only sight  
Abroad, deserves Thou shouldst Spectator be;  
All else with Grief suit better, than with Thee,   

212.  
And you the Rest, whose near attendance on  
My royal Person doth in you require  
Exact and generous Duty; see you run  
Not on the businesse of your own Desire,  
But mine; which should be yours: and know, that I  
Better than you yourselves can you employ.   

213.  
So in this Realm of ours such Peace shall rest  
As the intrusion of no storm shall fear:  
So of yourselves you all shall be possessed,  
And reign in your own Bounds, as I do here:  
So no Agenor henceforth shall entice  
You to conspire to your own Miseries,   

214.  
But if you scorn to walk in Honour's Way;  
(Which way, is, Doing what becomes you best.)  
Yet must not I permit you to betray  
Your own Capacity of Welfare, lest  
In your Mishap I prove a Sharer: no,  
Your Queen her Power better knows than so.   

215.  
She ending here: The Passions each on other  
Cast their uncertain Eyes, and much ado  
They had their itching way wardness to smother,  
These strict Injunctions did gripe them so:  
Yet none so venturous was, as to lead up  
Against the Queen, their Stomaches forlorn Hope.   

216.  
Thus vexed at one another's Faintness, they  
Hung down their sheepish looks, and bend their knees  
In token they were ready to obey  
What Laws soe'er her Majesty would please  
On them to lay; and so went blushing out  
That they into Subjections guilt were brought.   

217.  
For those whose Palates never yet did taste  
The blessed Sweets of Holy Discipline,  
By wilful Licences mad Revels cast  
Up their Accounts of Freedom, and repine  
At any Chains, although they keep them in  
From rushing to the slavery of sin.   

218.  
Psyche observed how they this Regular Bit  
Into their Mouths like sullen Horses took,  
How peevishly they foamed and champed on it,  
As loath such serious servitude to brook:  
This made her instantly resolve to ride  
Them hard, and weary out their lusty Pride.   

219.  
Nor theirs alone; but the loose Senc's too,  
Whom their new Laws had almost Passions made,  
So hard they grated on their Necks, and so  
Straight they tied them to a stricter trade  
Than they before had practised, or then was  
Professed about the World where they did pass.   

220.  
She by a Peremptory brave Decree,  
Enacted Scorn of every thing which here  
Earth useth as a Bait, to Luxury,  
Pride, Avarice, or any Crime which bear  
Chief Rule in Mortal Hearts, whilst heedless they  
Mark not the Hook, even when they are its Prey.   

221.  
A general Proclamation than she made,  
That none who unto her did homage owe  
In any Case presume abroad to gad,  
Unless Necessity along did go  
As their Companion, who might limits set  
Both to their Walk, and what they did in it.   

222.  
As when an headstrong Torrent, wont to throw  
His lawless Arms or every Mead where He  
Listed to riot, is enjoined to slow  
In a straight Channels regularity,  
The Stream with belching indignation beats,  
And foams agamst the Banks with murmuring threats.   

223.  
So with vexatious, and yet fearful, Wrath,  
Her Subjects penned up in these narrow bounds,  
In sighs and groans rebel against their Path,  
And every one his fretful grief expounds  
In a long commentary of Complaint;  
The only freedom of their new restraint,   

224.  
Were, other Subjects yoked so close as We,  
Their Company would lighter make our yoke;  
For Misery spread in Community  
Abates the terror of her cruel look:  
But how, said they, shall we endure alone  
The total weight of her Dominion   

225.  
Were it the Fashion any where beside  
For Sense and Passion thus in Chains to lie;  
Our Souls it would not torture to be tied  
At home in endless slavery: but why  
Must all the World laugh at our woes, whilst we  
The sole examples of this Bondage be?   

226.  
Psyche, who all their struggling Murmurs heard,  
With awful Majesty inflamed her Eye;  
And, Come, said she, if I must needs be Feared,  
Who would much rather have been Loved by  
All you my Subjects; be it so; for still  
Keep you entirely such I must, and will.   

227.  
Yet since the Fashion's all your plea, and you  
Of singularity tax this your state;  
As far as Reason leads, I will allow  
You your own Wish: But see you kick not at  
My royal Love, not force me to the Fashion  
Which Princes use in Rebel's Insultation.   

228.  
Know then the Fashion I have put you in  
Is that which made the Saints of old so sine,  
That they the Eyes of Heaven itself could win,  
And ravish all, but those to whom divine  
And earth-despising Bravery doth seem  
Dimmer than is pale Gold and Silvers beam.   

229.  
Yea that illustrious Realm whose situation  
Lies higher than the Stars, does not disdain  
To own what you repute a servile Fashion,  
But every Angel his own Will doth chain  
Close to his Sovereign's Law, and never flies  
Abroad, but when great Business him employs.   

230.  
Tell Me not then, what Garbs and Humours are  
By the blind foolish World adored; but take  
Your copy from those Patterns which outdare  
The Worth of any Parallel; and make  
Those Men your Pity, who make you their Scorn;  
Your Fashion gorgeous is, but theirs forlorn.   

231.  
These Words with such convincing Horror flew  
Upon the faces of the mutinous Rout,  
That all their Murmurs Blasts away they blew,  
And stilled the thoughts which in their bosoms wrought  
And since their Stomaches nothing had to Say,  
They nothing had to Do, but to Obey.   

232.  
Thus from exterior Troubles sequestered,  
Psyche at home close to her Business fell:  
She, long before the Sun, was out of Bed,  
And called it Morning, e'er the East could tell  
Aurora rising was; for I; said she,  
Have fiercer Steeds to rule than Phoebu's be.   

233.  
Then, higher into Heaven than He doth ride,  
She took her leap; so stout and sinewy were  
Her early Matins, which her Soul did guide  
Unto the Pinnacle of Glory, where  
Her Praises, and her Prayers she before  
The footstool of her mighty Spouse did pour.   

234.  
Her Hands then letting down, she set them to  
Their early Task; and this was to prepare  
Clothes for the Orphans and the Widows who  
Now all by Charity's Adoption were  
Become her Children: thus did prudent she  
Bravely make fruitful her Virginity.   

235.  
(And in this voluntary Offspring she  
Took high delight: for those who Parents are  
By Nature's Work, too oft engaged be  
In an unnatural Brood's vexatious care;  
But she from hers no Discontent could find,  
Being the chosen Children of her Mind.)   

236.  
Yet with her Work her Prayers she mingled so,  
That she of both a goodly Chequer made:  
In whatsoever Business she did go,  
Heaven interwoven was; for all her Trade  
Was but a faithful Prentisehood to Him  
Whose royal Temples wear heavens Diadem,   

237.  
So though the Mariner with busy care  
Attends his Card, yet oft he lifts his Eye  
To take direction from that trusty Star  
Which darteth on his Voyage Certainty;  
And by this mixed study safely rides  
Over the proudest and the furthest Tides.   

238.  
No idle Visits her abroad could draw:  
Yet whensoever the despised Poor  
Were sick, she by the royal Gospel Law  
Thought herself thither summoned, to restore  
Unto her needy Lord the help which she  
Had oft received from his Benignity.   

239.  
For Him on all those fickly Beds she saw,  
His pained broken Limbs, His parched Skin,  
His burning Tumours, His black stripes, His raw  
And gaping Wounds; which did so strongly win  
On her Compassion, that her own they proved,  
Whilst her soft Bowels them both felt and loved.   

240.  
The odious Sores which would have loathing bred  
Even in the Surgeon's eyes, she gently viewed;  
Her choicest Plasters tenderly she spread,  
And all her Powders with delight she strewed;  
Herself of her own Clothes she robbed, to wind  
About the Naked, and the Maimed bind.   

241.  
By the Diseases greatness she did measure  
The worth of her distressed Company:  
The foulest Lepers yielded choicest Pleasure  
To her Attendance, who aspired to be  
A Servant unto those whose Noisomeness  
Both Parent's Love and children's, did suppress.   

242.  
In vain her Senses turned back their head,  
Since She what they abhorred, resolved to love;  
In vain her daintier Passions murmured,  
And to recall her from that Office strove;  
Her Resolution she the more professed,  
And ever Kissed the Sores which she had dressed.   

243.  
The coy-eyed Ladies with a squeamish Look  
Admired and loathed her lowly Compliment;  
Not for a World would their fine Fingers brook  
The Touch of what her Kisses did resent  
As soft and sweet: yet could not their Disdain  
Her Zeal discourage, or her Lips restrain.   

244.  
Still She her Merciful Design pursues,  
And by divine Insinuation tries  
How in her Potions she may Heaven infuse,  
And reach the Souls mysterious Maladies.  
Heart-startling Hints she sprinkles here and there,  
And pours in heavenly Cordials every where.   

245.  
Nor by this paradoxick Zeal alone  
Did she run counter to the World's career;  
But valiant in her high Devotion,  
Adventured further yet to domineer  
Over her Flesh and Blood, whose lusty Heat  
By rigid Abstinence she down did beat.   

246.  
She ne'er by set and customary Time  
Was summoned to unneceslary Meat;  
But earnest Hunger always told the Chime  
By which she was admonished to Eat;  
And than her Meal she measured not by  
Her Stomachful, but bare Sufficiency.   

247.  
And thus her food she did her Servant make,  
Whilst others Slaves to their own Tables are;  
Thus did she relish every Bit, and take  
The genuine Delight of all her Fare,  
Whilst those whom Plenty always fat doth keep,  
Their Palates proper Joys can never reap.   

248.  
This Art so plucked her Body's Plumes, that she  
Could easily grasp and rule it with her Will;  
For soon she snatched it from the suavity  
Of all those Cates which pampered Skins do fill;  
And if it winced and struggled, space to get,  
Straighter and straighter still she grasped it.   

249.  
The Gardens roseal and lily Store,  
With all its Wealth of Spice and Odours, she  
For being such, did shun: of Eastern Ore,  
'Cause it was rich, she would no Hoarder be:  
From Lute and Harp, because they pleasing were,  
Beligiously she did abstain her Ear.   

250.  
(For yet Religions cheerly jovial Days  
Encouraged not the Christian Hemisphere;  
No Music yet mixed instrumental Lays  
With the Liturgick Anthems, striving here  
To echo that triumphant Melody  
Which in th' Angelic Choir is streind so high,   

251.  
For surely Psyche's Soul must needs have leaped  
At such Delights; and her sweet-tuned Heart  
With its exultant Pulse, due time have keeped  
To all such pious Airs; which by the Art  
Of charming Sanctity can steal upon  
The coldest Bosom, hot Devotion.)   

252.  
Delicious Wine, because it guilty was  
But of itself, exactly she eschewed;  
The Gallantry of Clothes, she held Disgrace  
In those whose Hearts had Vanity subdued:  
By simple Nature's Rules she strove to square  
What she did Touch, or Taste, Smell, See, or Hear.   

253.  
To Heaven she caused on Fervors wings to ride  
All those Affections which could traffic there.  
To be her Factors, and her Stock provide,  
Against her Death should thither send up her.  
And those whose Business here below did lie.  
She strictly to their proper Tasks did tie.   

254.  
By constant waiting on her Penitence,  
Her Tears acquired so quick an Habit, that  
No Tide with such perpetual Effluence  
Its swelling Brine above the Channel shot:  
Her flood disdained all set hours to keep,  
And day and night her Cheeks and Breast did steep.   

255.  
Etesian Winds could never hold so long  
In breath, as did her Sighs unwearied Blast;  
Nor could the common Gales blow half so strong  
As these, or ever follow on so fast:  
And none so fit for her, as such a Gale.  
Who through the Ocean of Grief did sail.   

256.  
Indeed when Times of Euangelick Joy,  
The reverend Feasts of holy Church, did down;  
She laid aside her penitent Annoy,  
And with the Catholic Triumph mixed her own:  
Yet still her Sighs and Tears she could not choose,  
At least for loving Joy, to interpose.   

257.  
As for her Bed, it was made every where,  
Her sleep being only on the naked Ground:  
Forecasting as she was, her lodging there  
She chose in time, that when she should be bound  
To her last Couch, the Grave might not to her  
Right hardy skin, strange and uncooth appear.   

258.  
And though this Bed did rude and churlish seem,  
She felt it courteous in the best of Love;  
Those lusty thoughts which in a soft-layed Dream  
With hot uncleanness through the fancy rove,  
Were kerbed by this sober Hardships Rein  
Which cooled all mutinies in her chaste brain.   

259.  
For wanton Cogitations Cowards are,  
Being the tender Sons of easy Rest:  
They painful Virtues hardy lodging fear,  
And only love an idle Downy Nest;  
Soft are their Wings, and therefore warm and dry  
They must be kept, and upon Feathers lie.   

260.  
When sparing Capricorn would not allow  
As liberal space to Day, as unto Night;  
She no advantage took, but studied how  
To piece up curtailed Day with Candle-light;  
And still was up, though Phoebus were in Bed,  
Till she her purposed task had finished.   

261.  
But that of such extension was, that she  
Was often overtaken, even by  
The laziest Morn, before her Work could be  
Drawn up unto its full Maturity:  
Yet then unto her rest she went not, till  
Her weary Head down on her Prayer-Book fell.   

262.  
For Time, inestimable Time, was that  
On which her only Avarice she fed;  
Grieved that the World with such elaborate  
And costly idleness had studied  
A thousand courtly Pastimes out, since They  
Alas pass not the Time, but Man, away.   

263.  
Madly-improvident Man; who though vain He  
Be sure of nothing, but that He must Die;  
Though the next Moment in his Power be  
No more than the next Age; yet labours by  
The help of long-extended empty Sport  
To make the too too posting hours seem short.   

264.  
Psyche ne'er found so tedious a Day,  
But still she thought Night crowded on too fast:  
She knew, as hard and narrow, so the Way  
To Heaven was long; and though she made all haste,  
She feared Death's darkness would rush on, e'er she  
Safe at her mighty Journe's end could be.   

265.  
Unwearied custom in this strictness made  
The World unfavorie to her palate seem;  
The Senses rellished not their wont Trade;  
The Passions all were tractable and tame;  
The Body humbled and beat down so low,  
That no rank weeds in its dry soil could grow.   

266.  
Her Robes of flesh about her Soul did sit  
So close and fit, that well they Her became;  
A Maid more handsome delicate and neat  
In heavens judicious Eye she now did seem,  
Than when she wore a larger bulk without her,  
And her full Body ruffled more about her.   

267.  
So spruce and straight her feature was, that no  
Distortions, or Distempers room could spy  
Where to assail her; Health about did go  
Through every Part, and brisk Activity  
Lived in her joints, although her yielding 〈◊〉  
Looked near as pale, as she was pure within.   

268.  
But yet her Mental Powers more lively were,  
Being not hampered nor clogged by  
Those Fumes and Clouds which from luxuriant 〈◊〉  
Full at the face of heedless Reason fly,  
And damp those Eyes with lazy dimness, which  
Objects sublime intended were to reach.   

269.  
The Bow of all her sprightful Faculties  
At an high pitch stood always ready bend;  
No sudden business ever could surprise  
Her heart at unawares; she never meant  
Concoctions leisure to attend, but still  
As ready as her Work, she to it fell.   

270.  
Thus she at length perceived her troubled sky  
Cleared of its gloomy frowns, and turned into  
The cheerful beauty of Serenity;  
She saw her rude unruly Servants, who  
Disturbed her region, in one Calm united;  
And at this sight of Peace, her Soul delighted.   

271.  
But as the gallant Spark is not content  
To climb up to the top of Airs first Stage,  
Since by the servor of its Natural Bent  
Above the Third it aims, nor can assuage  
The vehemence of that noble Spur, till it  
Into Fires elemental Bosom get:   

272.  
So Psyche, who unto Perfections Sphere  
Bend her brave course, now for a second flight  
Her wings and Resolution did prepare;  
Knowing a Third remained still, which might  
Eas lie deter her Courage, if in this  
She coward turn d, and bowed to Weariness,   

273.  
No: generous as she was, she vowed to try  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of her strength; and feared not what  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 intercept her Bravery:  
Though Chance's Wheel in her hand rolled not,  
In Gods it did; and upon that would I  
Rather than on mine own, said she, rely.   

274.  
Logos into her Closet She did call,  
Where with grave Countenance thus she Him bespoke:  
Thou see'st with what exact Obedience all  
My vulgar Subjects on their Necks do take  
My heaviest Yokes; and far, far be it Thou  
〈◊〉 loyal Love to Me than They, shouldst show.   

275.  
If common Herbs and Grass can learn to give  
Faithful Attendance on their Lord the Sun;  
What Candour can the S repreive  
From Censure and from Shame, if she alone  
Whom Nature joineth unto Him so near,  
Refuse her constant Duty to prefer?   

276.  
Couldst Thou have e'er imagined that They  
My other Servants could have found such dear  
And full Content, when I on them did lay  
Such loads as slew at first their Hearts with fear?  
Yet now Tranquillity and Joy and Bliss  
The fruit of my seveer Injunctions is.   

277.  
To Brutish Dullness being near of Kin  
Their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Reason's sweetest Plea;  
And hard it was for heavy them to win  
Upon their carnal Selves, and bow to me:  
But Thou art Reason's Secretary, and  
Her Will (and that is mine,) dost understand.   

278.  
Yea and thy Load is less than theirs; but far  
Greater thy Strength: No Arrow with such speed  
Snatcheth its shortest journey through the Air;  
No Lightning with such nimble Wings doth spread  
Its self about the World; as Thou canst Fly  
Even to the Crest of all Sublimity,   

279.  
Abuse not then that brave Activity  
By hankering and flagging here below;  
Stout-winged Eagles ne'er were made to be  
Companions unto Dunghill flies, O how  
Wilt Thou thine own Worth answer, if thine aim  
Thou take'st beneath thyself, and thy high Name I   

280.  
Alas these sublunary Matters be  
So 〈◊〉 of Emptiness, that wretched They  
Will shrink and melt into mere Vanity  
When thou beginst to grasp them: Never play  
At such poor Game which will but mock thy pains;  
So far are they from answering Thee with Gains.   

281.  
Learning, which looks so big, and nods 〈◊〉  
Upon illiterate Swains, could never yet  
Beyond that self-tormenting Wit attain  
Of seeing clearly its own Want of Wit;  
Whilst Simple Souls are never vexed by  
Those stinging Checks of learn d Simplicity   

282.  
Yet no disdainful Knower e'er can gain  
That Admiration which ambitious He  
Hunts for with studious and pale-fac d pain,  
Unless his Auditors unlearned be:  
Art wonders not at Art; but Ignorance  
Alone the fame of Learning doth advance.   

283.  
(What are the busy Schools, but a perplexed  
And implicated Maze, in whose Meander  
With thousand knotty scrupulous By-paths vexed  
The ever-doubting Student's forc d to wander?  
Learning she a Circle, and the Soul  
Can find no rest where it must always 〈◊〉.)   

284.  
Had any Rest dwelled there, thou hadst not in  
Ecclesia's glorious Hall 〈◊〉 how all  
The Patriarches of 〈◊〉 Wit did 〈◊〉  
Upon the Chains which held them there in Thrall,  
And roar in helpless 〈◊〉  
That they had 〈◊〉 so, to be 〈◊〉,   

285.  
What Gains reap'dst thou thyself, when thou didst sow  
In the Cerint hian or the Nazareen Soil;  
When heavens Instruction Thou away didst throw  
And with fond earthly Wisdom didst beguile  
Thy better Knowledge? In thy Blush I see  
Confession of that costly Vanity,   

286.  
But ask thy Memory, and she will tell  
Thee what thou undertookst when thou wert freed  
From fair-tongud Heresies foule-hearted Hell:  
Didst Thou not then entirely make a Deed  
Of thy whole Self to Me? which still doth stand  
In force; I'm sure I cancelled not the Bond   

287.  
And now Performance I require, nor will  
I bate a Tittle of the Obligation:  
If this strict Course involved any Ill  
To thee, I would admit thy Deprecation;  
But thou art Bound to thine own Happiness  
And Heaven forbid that I should Thee dismiss.   

288.  
What could Indulgence towards Thee be now  
But most malicious Tyranny in Me?  
Sooner among the Clouds shall Dolphins row,  
And Eagles flutter through the deepest Sea,  
Than I will accessary be to thy  
Enslaving Freedom, and Selfe-felony.   

289.  
No: thy perpetual Task henceforth shall be  
In the soft Air of Heaven thy Wings to stretch:  
Say not they are too short; for Constancy  
Of Exercise will quickly make them reach,  
And Thee enable gallantly to rise  
And sore amongst the Birds of Paradise.   

290.  
Amongst those Birds who on the royal Face  
Of the eternal Sun of Majesty  
In meek audacity for ever gaze,  
Reading his mighty Providential Eye,  
And all those other Marvels gracious He  
Will let created Contemplation see.   

291.  
These shalt thou see, and fix thy study there;  
But ever with this Caution, that thine Eye  
Trust not its own Powers which are weak and bleat,  
But on that never-erring Glass rely  
Which in Ecclesia s Court to thee was given,  
Truths mirror, and the Spectacles of Heaven   

292.  
Thy vast Capacity can only there  
Meet with a Feast sufficient Thee to fill,  
Where thou hast free leave to fall to that Cheer,  
Which wouldst thou 〈◊〉, the whole World could not sell;  
That Cheer, whose Worth s above the World as far  
As its Exuberance and Dwelling are.   

293.  
Leaps not thy Soul at this? If any where  
Thou canst discover a more worthy Prize,  
I 〈◊〉 not command thy Strength to wrestle here:  
But since all other Treasures this outvies,  
I must not suffer Scorn to say of thee:  
Logos could Reason find a Fool to be.   

294.  
And that Anqmuesis thine Handmaid, may  
Advance thy brave Adventure, upon Her  
My strict and peremptory Charge I lay  
To see no Trash pollute her Register;  
For many a Toy which wears an harmless Look  
Will easily deflower her virgin book.   

295.  
Wild Fancy would be tame did she not find  
A thousand Shapes of vain and useless Things  
Wand'ring about the Storehouse of the Mind.  
Upon whose backs she gets, and madly flings  
About the Region of the Brain, when Sleep  
In her blind Arms doth Thee a Prisoner keep.   

296.  
All fond Romances, and all wanton Songs,  
With Idlenesses Busines, tickling News,  
Which swarm so thick upon unwary Tongues,  
And Man's sole Treasure, precious Time, abuse,  
Must not that Bosom clog and pester where  
Heaven is desired to be a Sojourner.   

297.  
No; Heaven is large, and our poor Hearts are narrow,  
Heaven will our utmost Stowage fraught, and more;  
The ample Breasts of Seraphs could We borrow,  
Still in Capacity We should be poor;  
Still by the full-tide Wealth of Piety  
Our highest Banks would overflowed be.   

298.  
That Knowledge which doth its due Tribute pay  
To Sanctity, I will not Her forbid;  
But her prime care and task shall be to lay  
Up store of that pure heav n descended Bread,  
Which Manna's famous Bounty doth outgive  
Teaching frail Men eternal Lives to live   

299.  
That Bread which flourished from the Mouth of Bliss,  
God's sacred Word, the reverend Scriptures, where  
Wisdoms best Jewels, and the rich Excess  
Of purest Knowledge all enshrined are;  
That living Mine of Oracles, that spring  
Of every sober-heart-contenting Thing.   

300.  
Such precious Eloquence ne'er made its hive  
On any Roman or Athenian Tongue,  
As in this honey-shaming Book doth live;  
Such 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Sweets were never wrung  
From humane Poet's love-oppressed Soul  
As there in every Leaf and Line doth roll.   

301.  
For what is every Leaf and every Line  
But a fair Channel through whose bosom glides  
The soft and supple Soul of most divine,  
Most satisfying Truth, whose generous Tides  
Difdain all Ebbs, and with unwearied Store  
Of royal Pleasures flow for evermore.   

302.  
Her prudent Bottles she at every one  
Of these dear Streams must learn to fill; yet she  
Shall with more constant ardent study run  
To David's blessed Well, where Suavity  
In three times fifty Springs doth bubble up,  
And liquid Heaven to thirsty Souls set open.   

303.  
And in the Song of Songs (that is, of Love,  
Who there in sacred Wantonness doth play,  
Streining his strong enamoured Notes above  
The loftiest Spheres most sublimated Lay,)  
Her pious Revels she may keep, and run  
O'er the best Riches of great Solomon.   

304.  
But at the evangelic Fountains she  
The Streams of purest Holiness shall draw;  
Streams in whose more than Crystal Clarity  
Innumerable Virgin Grace's row;  
Streams where Humility, who only hath  
All Virtues for her handmaids, joys to bathe.   

305.  
All Mysteries arrayed in Sweetness there,  
And no where else, She shall not fail to see;  
There Gods own Motions in an Humane Sphere,  
Accommodated to her Weakness, she  
Shall safely read; and from the dropping Lip  
Of Jesus, how much more than Nectar sip.   

306.  
And thus laid in, thy Stock so great will be  
That thou mayst easily undertake to drive  
That generous Trade which I enjoined Thee;  
And never doubt but thou shalt bravely thrive:  
'Tis 〈◊〉 Wealth makes Bankrupts such, but thine  
Estate shall be immortal and divine.   

307.  
Here Psyche ceased. But Logos scratched his head,  
As something jealous that this Task would sit  
Sad on his back: Yet when he pondered  
The grounds which fortified and flankered it,  
He found himself forestalled of what to say,  
And therefore to his Sovereign's Will gave way.   

308.  
She, glad on any terms, that Logos had  
Buckled his Shoulders to receive the Yoke;  
In all his Task a decent Method made,  
That Time itself might call him to his Book,  
And turn his Leaves, and show him every day  
What Lesson ready for his Study lay.   

309.  
A noble Week of Attributes she chose  
In the vast Treasures of the Deity;  
And pressed her seven Days to attend on those  
Each in his order; by which practice she  
Knew how Time went, not by the posting 〈◊〉  
But her own Contemplation's Motion.   

310.  
That Morn which to the World did Sunday open,  
(That Suns fair Day which did at Salem rise,)  
Awaked her not, but found her ready up,  
And busy at her Work; the reverend Eyes  
Of Logos wide were open, and earnestly  
Fixed on the Godheads wondrous Unity,   

311.  
Nothing is laced so close and straight into  
Itself, as this immeasurable Nature;  
The Singularity which seemeth so  
Complete in every Individual Creature.  
Hangs loose about them, if they judged be  
By the pure Rule of this 〈◊〉   

312.  
A dull Passivity doth sneaking lie  
About the centre of the 〈◊〉 Hearts,  
Checking those Flames of their 〈◊〉  
Which seem all Spirit: And 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Parts.  
Are found, although their 〈◊〉  
Be close, the Whose's not absolutely One.   

313.  
O no: should God dissolve that secret Glue  
Which in their own Subsistence up doth knit  
Angelic Natures; that which now doth show  
So straight and single, would in sunder split;  
Their Wings would melt and moult, their Flames would by,  
And they themselves from their own selves would fly   

314.  
Even Unity itself had never been  
Itself, unless it had been form by  
This Prototype; that Unity I mean  
Which hugs and girteth up the Things which lie  
Under the Foot of that eternal Throne  
On which He reigns who is supremely One.   

315.  
Yet not more truly One, than He is Three,  
But knit in an high and mystic Knot  
Of simple singular Triplicity:  
Which Psyche though she comprehended not,  
Yet with admiring Eyes she dwelled upon,  
As Eagles on the Light, the Flame, the Sun.   

316.  
There she beheld how infinitely Bold  
And equally besotted, was their Sin,  
Who had in their Religions List enroled  
A Crowd of Gods: She now could easilier win  
Upon her Faith, to think that there were none  
At all; then yield there could be more than One.   

317.  
O how she praised and adored that high  
And burning Jealousy, which though she saw  
Flaming with most resolved Ardency  
Upon the Forehead of the ancient Law,  
Till now, she knew not so profoundly why  
heavens deepest Hate was foul Idolatry.   

318.  
But then encouraged by Heroic Heat,  
Nearer and nearer to this Knot she drew;  
And prostrate at her mighty Maker's Feet,  
This panting Cry upon his Footstool threw:  
Great Lord, why may not I with Thee be One,  
Though not by Unity, by Union?   

319.  
O I am now a thousand Things a day!  
But were I once to Thee entirely joined;  
No Objects should thy Psyche steal away,  
Whilst They into Themselves transform Her Mind:  
Thyself, and mine, I should behold in Thee,  
And all Things else I could desire to see.   

320.  
The next Days Dawn, her Meditations drew  
To feed upon the Truth of her dear Lord,  
Truth so supreem and infinitely True,  
As boundless Satisfaction did afford  
Unto her Intellect, whose daintiest Feast  
By Truth alone is furnished and dressed.   

321.  
Solid substantial Treasures here she saw,  
To which all other Things but Shadows are;  
Compulsive Reason here she found to draw  
That strange Conclusion to a Natural Ear,  
That God is in such sovereign Certainty  
Himself, that Nothing truly Is, but Herald   

322.  
The Fullness of this Universe is founded  
On Emptiness, and therefore cannot be  
More real than its Bottom: What is grounded  
On Frothy Bubbles, sticks to Vanity  
Close by the Roots; and seeing All Things came  
From Nothings Womb, they must be like their  
Dame,   

323.  
When a quick-paced Intellect doth trace  
The Lines of any Creatures Being, though  
At first it meets with what presents a face  
Of solid Something; it will quickly grow  
To its vain journey's end; and stopped be  
By the huge Gulf of mere Vacuity.   

324.  
But when it lanceth out into the Sea  
Of increated Nature, it doth sail  
Through True and genuine Substantialtie,  
Which never will its Contemplation fail,  
By terminating Wants ignoble Shore,  
But lets it drive its Course for evermore.   

325.  
And in this blessed Ocean Psyche met  
Such vast Reality, that in disdain  
She called the World, and all that swelled in it,  
A mighty Lie, dressed up and trimmed with vain  
Embellishments, whose outside Flatteries  
Abuse but blear and unconsidering Eyes,   

326.  
Yet sweeter was her Third Days Work than this,  
For then her Speculation fixed its Eye  
Upon the Goodness of her Lord, which is  
The Fountain of unbounded Suavity;  
A Fountain which itself at home doth fill,  
And springs through all the Universe doth thrill   

327.  
For as the Sun on 〈◊〉 Star doth pour  
The bounty of his inexhausted Beams,  
Making them rich with his illustrious store,  
Who else could ne'er have kindled their own flames;  
So all the Rays of Goodness which make fine  
Created Eyes, are Sparks of the Divine.   

328.  
Mere Sparks indeed, who of their weakness by  
Their twinkling tremor plain Confession make:  
But God's supreme original Bonity  
From its own Home doth its Dimensions take;  
It lives, and flames in his unbounded Breast,  
And fills with sweetest fullness all its nest.   

329.  
Here The lema leaped in, who now had found  
That God alone was absolutely good,  
And fain she would her ravished self have drowned  
In this delicious Attribute's dear flood:  
But Psyche reined her in, whose life she meant  
Should in another sacrifice be spent.   

330.  
Her fourth days Task was wondrous hard and high,  
For now her thoughts adventured to look  
On the vast Volumes of Immensity;  
Which were the sacred admirable Book  
Of her great Maker's face; a Book which made  
All Heaven and Earth to less than Nothing fade.   

331.  
But as her Contemplations wandered here,  
The further they went on, the further they  
Were from their end; and in their boundless Spheat  
Lost both themselves, and their increasing way.  
Yet Psyche found her Heart filled with Delight  
Thus to be lost from Morning unto Night.   

332.  
Oft did she cry; What though by Losing, I  
Am fain to find; and by being Blind, to See?  
What though I cannot Comprehend, but by  
Granting mine own want of Capacity?  
I am content, dear Lord, since I by this  
Negation, thy Greatness do Confess.   

333.  
I see thou art Immense and Infinite;  
Therefore I see thee not; yet see thee more  
By this unable and denying sight,  
Than they whose saucy Eyes dare by the poor  
Comparison of whatsoever it be  
Express the Measure of the Deity.   

334.  
But since thou art so great, o mighty Lord.  
Whence is it, that Man's narrow Heart to thee  
An acceptable dwelling can afford!  
How is it, that thy Eave's Immensity  
Shrinks up thy Nature's! which is yet as great  
As 'twas before; even in this little seat.   

335.  
The fifth day summoned all her Might, to view  
The matchless Power of the Deity.  
Straight, in her face the whole Creation flew,  
With witness of its Author's strength, which she  
Read from the fairest heavens sublimest Crest  
Down to the gloomy Centre's lowest Nest.   

336.  
And though the universal Fabric were  
The full Expansion of Magnificence;  
Yet oft she chose the smallest Character  
Of close short-writ Epitomies, and thence  
Observed God's fingerwork in little flies.  
As great, as was his Arms in widest skies,   

337.  
But Man took up her deepest Admiration,  
Man, the rich extract of all things beside,  
The wondrous Juncture of the whole Creation  
By which the Heaven unto the Earth is tied;  
Yea, more than Heaven, for God unto the Creature  
Is married by none but Humane Nature.   

338.  
Yet not content thus at the second Hand  
To feed her hungry Meditations, she  
Gallantly made a further venture, and  
Gazed on her Maker's naked Potency,  
Where she discovered strength enough to build  
More Worlds, than Atoms she in this beheld.   

339.  
No Bounds nor Bars she saw, which could forbid  
The pleasure of his Hand, but only those  
Which Contradiction had established:  
Yet they were not his Power to enclose,  
But to demonstrate that his noble Might  
Could nothing do but what was True and Right.   

340.  
O how she pitied those Princes, who  
Upon exterior helps misplace the Name  
Of strength, and dread not what all foes can do  
If they have once prevailed with vaunting Fame  
To publish to the World their numerous Force  
Of Castles, Ships, Arms, Money, Men, and Horse.   

341.  
For what are those swollen Names unto a King,  
Whose Arms as short, whose Sinews are as weak  
As are his meanest Servants; who can bring  
No Legions into the field, nor wreak  
His challenged fury on his ready foe,  
Unless His, be his Subject's Pleasure too.   

342.  
Can his sole Word the Battle fight, and wrest  
The Laurel from his struggling Enemies?  
O no; his Power doth in Others rest  
More than himself; and if by Mutinies  
Unhappy Spark, Rebellions flame breaks out,  
By his own Strength his Overthrow is wrought.   

343.  
But Psyche saw how her Creators Might  
Fast unto his own Will alone was chamed;  
Omnipotence, when e'er he pleased to fight,  
〈◊〉 all his Marches, for it reigned  
In 〈◊〉 vast Hand, which doth support and stay  
All other Arms from mouldering away.   

344.  
Yet though thus Potent, He is also 〈◊〉,  
And She as such the sixth Day Him admired:  
Deeply she weighed how all Ages held  
One Principle of Boldness, and conspired  
Against their Patient God, as if his strong  
Right-hand were bound, because He held his Tongue.   

345.  
Amazed she was, to see how He kept under  
Incensed Justice, who would fain have thrown  
His ready Vengeance dressed in dreadful Thunder,  
In Wars, in Plagues, in Drought, in Famine, down  
Upon the wretched Heads and Hearts of those  
Who durst in spite of Mercy, be his Foes.   

346.  
Indeed she saw that Mercy fix her Eye  
Upon the Rainbow; where she seemed to read  
An Obligation of her Lenity,  
Though Heav'n-defying Sin bore up its Head  
Never so high: Yet by her own Consent  
Yea and Desire, that Signal Bow was bend.   

347.  
The Bow was bend; yet not to shoot, but show  
How Mercy bound herself to do her best  
The World to shelter from a second Blow,  
Which from the first her only Love released:  
Else had the Deluge not repent, and  
To Earth made restitution of dry Land.   

348.  
This Speculation informed her how  
Much more heroic is the Victory  
When Sweetness wreaths the Bay about the Brow,  
Than when plain force doth snatch it thither: He  
In whom both are supreme, takes more delight  
In conquering by his Mercy than his Might.   

349.  
And o may I, said when Night at length  
Warned this her Meditation to conclude.  
Not by the Dint of thy all-conquering Strength,  
Dear Lord, but by thy Mercy be subdued!  
If on a Worm thy Power thou wilt try,  
O let it be the Might of Lenity.   

350.  
But then the seaunth Day gave her Thoughts their cue  
To trace the Wonders of his Glory, which  
Did from the antecedent Week accrue,  
And with transcendent Brightness Him enrich;  
Brightness which gave heavens Choir their task to sing  
Eternal Hallelujahs to their King.   

351.  
And ravished here with mighty Joy and Love,  
She needs would take with Them her Part of Praise:  
With utmost Zeals intention she strove  
Her Acclamations to their Key to raise:  
And though she could not sing so high nor clear,  
Yet did her Music please Heavn's candid ear.   

352.  
She Thought, and Sung, and then she Thought again,  
For still new floods came rolling in upon Her;  
God's other Attributes illustrious Train  
Themselves in Homage pay unto his Honour,  
In whose incomparable Vastness they  
Can all their own Infinitudes display.   

353.  
What ever breaths, or lives, or has the least  
Share of Existence, constant Tribute brings  
Unto this Treasury, as well's the best  
And brightest Cherub: yea even empty Things,  
Defects and Sins, though not by Doing, yet  
By Suffering what they merit, render it.   

354.  
And shall I only be a barren Tree  
When all the World besides so fruitful is?  
Forbid it mighty King of Souls, said she:  
Let not thy Psyche's Heart the glory miss  
Of honouring Thee, although my life it cost;  
That life's best saved which for Thee is lost.   

355.  
Much time in this Employment having spent,  
She changed her Task, but not her Industry:  
For, next, her Contemplations she sent  
To wait upon her Spouses Majesty;  
The marvels of his mighty Love to read,  
Which over her, and all the World was spread.   

356.  
And here with sympathetick Exultation  
And amorous fervour she her Soul did melt;  
For in the tract of every Speculation  
His Acts and Passions in her Breast she felt,  
Which always Sad or Cheerly was, as she  
His Sorrows or his Joys in thought did see.   

357.  
A longer Pilgrimage she now did make,  
And travelled all the way with more Delight,  
Than when by Phylax's Conduct she did take  
To holy Palestine her Zealous flight;  
Longer she dwelled on every Monument  
Of what her Lord for her had done, or spent.   

358.  
A thousand times she sighed and wondered why  
Brisk generous Spirits who hunt noble Stories,  
Through all Books else, should not be ravished by  
The Lustre of the evangelic Glories,  
But more exactly strave to know the List  
Of Caesar's Acts, than what was done by Christ.   

359.  
She sighed, and wondered how a Christian Heart  
Which did not give its blessed Name the lie,  
Could possibly forbear to snatch its part  
In its Redeemers noble History;  
How Love could quit its loyal self, and yet  
Not know whatever of its Spouse was writ.   

360.  
But all this while on Logo's Wings she flew;  
(Though sometimes Thelema did flutter by,)  
And these were much too short and weak, she knew,  
To tower, and double that Sublimity  
Which makes Perfections third, and highest Story,  
The Crown of Saints, and all the Angel's Glory.   

361.  
She therefore taking Thelema apart;  
With all the winning Art of Courtesy  
Devised first to charin her mighty Heart,  
And make it pliant to the Plot, which she  
Had laid to catch her into Blisle: And then  
She gently grasped her hand, and thus began.   

362.  
O Thou the dearest of my Servants, who  
Dost wear the Keys of all that I possess;  
Yea and of Me thy native Sovereign too,  
Who have no power to stir abroad unless  
Thou op'st the Door; How do I wish that I  
Had more to trust with thy Fidelity!   

363.  
But since I neither am, nor have, no more;  
Let this suffice to bind thine Heart to Me:  
In gratitude thou canst no less restore  
Than pressed Compliance, though I ask of thee  
Some hard and costly Matter, so to prove  
The rate and value of my Steward's Love.   

364.  
But I my proper Interest can bate,  
And by my Subjects Gains account mine own:  
What e'er advantage doth enhance their State  
I take it as Accrewment to my Crown;  
They are my Riches, nor can I be poor,  
So long as they increase their teeming Store.   

365.  
All I desire, shall only be, That thou  
Wouldst venture to embrace thy highest Bliss;  
And now dull Sense and Passion valiant grow,  
Now Logos through all Heaven so busy is,  
Not Flinch alone, nor be content to stay  
In any lower Region, than They.   

366.  
Remember that thy Wings of Strength are made  
And that no Flight's too high or long for thee;  
That nothing ever made thy Courage fade  
Unless thyself didst timorously agree  
To thy Defeat: Henceforth be brave and bold,  
Thou canst not fail, if thou but hold'st thine Hold.   

367.  
Jesus the Sovereign Lord of Thee and Me,  
Will give thee leave to make Himself thy Prey;  
Reach then thine Arms of noble Love, that he  
Imprisoned in thy Embraces, may  
Through thy happy Heart his Sweetness thrill,  
And with the best of Heaven thy bosom fill.   

368.  
If this Adventure thou esteemest too high;  
Throw down thyself before His blessed Feet:  
He cannot let thee there despised lie,  
But with his ready favour thee will greet;  
And for that Resignation of thing,  
Hug and embrace thee till thou provest divine.   

369.  
This gallant Challenge wrought so strong upon  
The generous Heart of Thelema, that she  
The forwardness of her submission  
Forthwith professed upon her bended Knee:  
And, Heaven forbid, said she, I should deny  
Your Pleasure, or mine own Felicity.   

370.  
Though not at Jesu's royal Feet, (o no,  
I am too vile to aim my Pride so high,)  
Yet, Madam, here at yours, myself I throw  
To be accepted, and disposed by  
Your Love and Wisdom; Use Me as you please,  
Lo I return you yours, and mine own Keys.   

371.  
Triumphant Joy strait flamed in Psyche's Breast  
The Virgin's ready Loyalty to see:  
Whom she embraced thrice, and thrice she kissed,  
And sweetly forced to rise from her Knee:  
Then all her 〈◊〉 she took, which to her side  
(Weeping and Smiling,) in one Knot she tied.   

372.  
And now I feel myself a Queen, said she,  
A Queen indeed: Yet be assured thou  
O faithful Maid, shalt find thyself more free  
By this Subjection, than when thou didst bow  
To thine own Inclinations, which have  
To Vanity full oft made Thee a Slave.   

373.  
Exalated thus unto her own Desire,  
Into her pious Oratory She  
More cheerfully than ever did retire  
To celebrate a new Solemnity;  
An Holocaust she hastes to sacrifice,  
For which her own brave Zeal the Fire supplies.   

374.  
Did golden Mountains tempt her now to stay;  
Did Millions of Worlds made up in one  
Inestimable Bait, lie in her way,  
And woe her but to let one Minute run  
Before She fell to work; not all the force  
Of those strong Compliments could stop her Course.   

375.  
No: She of joyous Love in travel is,  
And feels the dainty Pangs of Parturition;  
Till she brings 〈◊〉 her mighty Sacrifice  
'Tis not all Heaven can ease her smart condition.  
Speed, Speed alone, would useful be she knew;  
Whose Wings she snatched, and to her business flew.   

376.  
A Preface then of thousand Sighs and Tears  
Before her brave Oblation she spread.  
As many Groans unto her Sovereign's ears  
Like Harbingers of her Design she sped.  
Then prostrate on the ground her face she laid.  
And of her humble Heart the Altar made.   

377.  
Upon this Altar, bound both Hands and Feet,  
Her Thelema she for the Offering threw:  
And bend thy gracious Eye said She, thou sweet  
And gentle Lamb of Heaven, to Me, who sue  
For thy acceptance of this Sacrifice  
Which at the footstool of thy Mercy lies.   

378.  
Thy royal Bounty gave it unto Me;  
But I, alas perceive myself too weak  
To manage such a great Estate; To thee  
I therefore render it: O gently take  
It home again, and govern it for Me  
The feeble Handmaid of thy Majesty.   

379.  
Do with it what Thou wilt; so it be Thine,  
I care not what betid it; for I know  
Thy Pleasure, like thyself, must be Divine.  
O see, how it pants and heav's! if Thou  
Wilt not accept it, let it lie, for Me:  
How can I love, what is despised by Thee?   

380.  
As when the Lightning flasheth from the Sky,  
Down to the ground it flames without delay;  
So did the fervour of this Prayer fly,  
And snatched from earth to Heaven its sudden way;  
Nor made it there a stop at any Sphere,  
But scoured through all, and reached Jesus ear,   

381.  
Propitious He strait yielded his Consent,  
And opening wide his blessed Arms, embraced  
The dear Oblation with as high Content,  
As if He, more than Psyche had been graced.  
O King of Sweetest Love; who would not bring  
To such a God as Thee, his Offering!   

382.  
But now, as zealous Psyche thought to send  
Her Altar up, after her Sacrifice;  
Behold a sudden Fullness did extend  
Her bosom with such ravishing Rarities,  
That she perplexed with unknown Sweets, 〈◊〉  
With what strange Paradise she was inspired.   

383.  
At length examining her encroaching Bliss,  
Another Thelema in her Heart she spied;  
But in so lovely and majestic Dress,  
That by her Looks she instantly descried  
From whence she came, and that she needs must be  
One of her heavenly Spouse's family.   

384.  
His Will it was indeed: for Noble He  
Disdaineth, not to give more than he takes:  
No sooner Psyche's Offering He did see,  
But he this greater Present ready makes,  
Then with innumerable Blessings dressed  
Shoots it into her soft and pious Breast.   

385.  
This grasped her Soul so fast, and knit it so  
Entirely to her Spouse's Heart, that she  
Forthwith seemed to have nothing more to do  
With what she was herself, since potent He  
Was seized of her; and her Will being gone,  
She to Love's Tyranny was left alone.   

386.  
Nor did Love lose his time, but domineered  
In her subdued heart with full career;  
And she as glad to be his Slave appeared  
As he rejoiced to triumph on her;  
For by his Conquests she did count her own,  
Being by every fall far higher thrown.   

387.  
Thrown up into new stages of Delight,  
And fresh Excess of those immortal things  
Which never were debased to mortal sight,  
Nor stooped to please the Ears of proudest Kings;  
Things which, the Heart of Man doth pant in vain  
When it doth stretch, and struggle to contain.   

388.  
And now her Soul, like a new weaned Child  
Which wholly hangs upon its Nurse's Will,  
Itself not by itself did move and wield,  
But absolutely resting on the skill  
And care of her dear Lord who tutored it,  
Was carried wheresoever he thought fit.   

389.  
This made all Sweets and Dainties here below  
(For with these names our fond mistakes do grace them)  
Disrellish in her accurate Taste, and grow  
Truly themselves; which was enough to chase them  
From wise acceptance; for their borrowed shape  
Is that alone which doth our love entrap.   

390.  
On God, and only him her joys did feast,  
His royal Pleasure was her precious Bliss:  
So well did all his Laws and Statutes taste  
To her Heart's palate, that the Pleasantness  
Both of the Honey and the Honeycomb  
Had in her approbation no room.   

391.  
What grated hard upon her Soul before,  
Wrongs, Slanders, Pains, Distress, Calamities,  
Mishaps, and Sickness; tortured her no more;  
For on her Spouses Will she fixed her Eyes,  
And still embraced as the best, what he  
Did either order, or permit to be.   

392.  
This kindled such a Bonfire of Delight  
Throughout her Breast, that had she been invited  
Even by all Paradise, to yield her right  
In this Possession, she would have slighted  
The mighty Bait, and triumphed still to be  
The Holocaust of Love's Extremity.   

393.  
Yet was her Passions wondrous violence  
Sweetened with such divine serenity,  
That with less undisturbed influence  
The Sun's full Beams through all the World do fly  
To light the day; then did these flames of Love  
Through all her calm hearts blessed Regions move.   

394.  
In dainty silence she her Soul possessed,  
With firm Adhaesion unto her Bliss:  
Even all her Motions mingled were with rest,  
Because they did concentricate with his  
Whose Actions, though all infinite they be,  
Their number is tied up in Unity.   

395.  
Indeed the World, whom her Austerity  
Seveerly chode and stung; by peevish scorn  
Revenged themselves: for lo, said they, how she  
By Melancholies blackness grown forlorn,  
Esteems herself as fair as if the best  
Of heaven's bright beauties had her countenance 〈◊〉   

396.  
She from herself: by wilful Robbery,  
Plunders those honest Sweets, which courteous heaven  
To check Life's tide of infelicity,  
Hath into Moderations Bosom given;  
And taxeth God's own bounty by refusing,  
What we cannot approve, but by our 〈◊〉.   

397.  
Should any paltry Beggar serve Her so,  
Sure she would not believe He did despise  
Her Alms alone; but was contemptuous too  
Against herself; Nor would his humble guise  
Persuade her that his stomaches inward Pride  
Was by Devotions fervour Mortified.   

398.  
Thus did the Ravens against the Swan inveigh:  
But now no seeds of Discontent remained  
In Psyche's heart, she let them say their say,  
And from their Envy a new Laurel gained;  
Her silent Patience answered all their scorn,  
And to her Crown their Calumnies did turn.   

399.  
But as she rested in this mystic Peace,  
Hers, and all pious Souls, eternal Foe,  
Who counted his own trouble by her ease,  
Tore his fell heart with studying what to do:  
Atlength resolved, haste he makes to dress  
In a fair vizard his foul wickedness.   

400.  
Time was, when he Precentor of that choir  
Which all the Spheres with Hallelujahs fill,  
Arrayed was in glorious attire,  
Whose gallantry did then become him well;  
But when a monstrous Rebel He became,  
The Crime invested him, with hideous shame.   

401.  
Yet He, remembering his original guise,  
And being well skilled in Hypocrisy,  
Patched up himself a coat of gorgeous Lies,  
Wherein to shelter his Doformitie;  
That though he were the King of blackest night,  
He might an Angel seem of fairest light.   

402.  
His ragged Horns of steel He pulled in;  
And on his rusty brazen looks he spread  
A soft, a ruddy, and well polished skin;  
His front, with envious wrinkles furrowed,  
He planed over, sweetening all his face  
With blooming youthfulness, and smiling grace.   

403.  
Into a Knot he gathered up his Tail,  
And tied it at his back: of every Toe  
And Finger carefully he cut the Nail;  
And than his Hands and Feet he painted so,  
That what before was harsh and footie, now  
Did cleanly, delicate, and beauteous grow.   

404.  
His bushy snarled Locks of fretful Snakes  
He shaved off; for which, to shade his Head,  
Into the new-erected Tomb he breaks  
Of an embalmed Virgin lately dead,  
And stealing thence her fresh perfumed Tresses,  
His Baldness he with Curls of Amber dresses.   

405.  
An hundred Swans then having plundered;  
Their fairest and their softest feathers he  
In two brave Combinations marshaled,  
And measured, and poised equalie;  
Then to his shoulders them he fitted, and  
A Pair of goodly Wings had at Command.   

406.  
A Robe he chose whose colour scorned the Milk,  
And with his wings did correspondence hold;  
Its texture was of light and pliant Silk,  
Belaced and fringed with oriental Gold,  
That both its Pureness and its Splendour might  
Profess that down from Heaven he took his flight.   

407.  
Accoutered thus: as Psyche wearied by  
Her holy Vigils, yielded unto Sleep,  
The sly Impostor silently did fly  
Into her Chamber, and with cunning creep  
Under the eyelids of her heart, where he  
Himself presented in feigned clarity.   

408.  
But as the Virgin's Soul began to start:  
Fear not, said he, for Phylax is thy friend;  
These Rays of mine did never terror dart,  
But to thy Weakness, Strength and Comfort lend;  
And Heaven forbid that I should prove unkind  
Now thou my favour most deserv'st to find.   

409.  
The Gallantry of thy Devotion I  
Come to applaud, and to increase its Fire:  
I grant thy zealous Wings have towered high,  
But yet thy Spouse would have them labour higher,  
And as immoderate in their answer prove  
As is to thee the Challenge of his Love.   

410.  
The Watches frequent are, and long, which thou  
In dear attendance upon Him dost keep;  
Yet oftener generous he, and longer too  
To purchase rest for thee, did lose his sleep.  
Be noble now; remembering thou shalt have  
Sufficient sleeping time in thy still Grave.   

411.  
Low hast thou plucked thy Body's Plumes; but He  
Was rend and torn, and furrowed up with Lashes:  
And can the Zeal of thy Austerity  
More legibly appear than in such Gashes?  
I know thou lovest not thy Skin, but yet  
'T were not amiss thus much were writ on it.   

412.  
Severe and resolute thy Fast be  
If scanned by the faint Worlds vulgar fashion:  
But Forty Days thy Spouse did Fast for thee,  
And now expects thy faithful Imitation: 〈◊〉  
As well He may, who an eternal Feast, 〈◊〉  
To quit a few Days Fast, in Heaven has dressed.   

413.  
Since than He means that thou with Us shalt reign,  
Betimes it will become Thee to prepare  
Thyself for out Society, and strain  
Out all the dregs thou hast contracted here,  
That raised to the Purity in which  
We Angels shine, thou mayst our Region reach.   

414.  
By Moses, and Elias, who beheld  
At such vast distance Jesu's glimmering face,  
Shall Psyche be in Abstinence excelled!  
Can she on whom the evangelic Grace  
With such full lustre beats, by those whom blind  
And shady Types invelop'd, be outshined!   

415.  
O no; dear Pupil; since thy generous Breast  
Dared wish to be inflamed by that fire  
Whose Aime's Perfection, Let no lazy Rest  
Clog the brave Wings of thy sublime Desire.  
What though thy Death it hastens? Thou and I  
Shall but the sooner to Life's Kingdom fly.   

416.  
Thus sought the wily Tempter to invite  
The Virgin to a fatal Precipice.  
But as the Lamb is taught by natural Fright  
To fear and hate the Wolf, though in the Fleece,  
The honest Fleece of the mild Sheep he be  
Arrayed, and courts her with smooth Flattery:   

417.  
So Psyche's Heart, [for heavenly Charis there  
Close in the Centre of her Soul did lie,]  
Misgave her at the Sight, and quaked for fear  
Of this fair-tongued Angel's Courtesy;  
For all his dainty Look, and Skin, yet She  
Assured was, it could not Phylax be.   

418.  
None of those soft and blessed Heats, she felt  
Which sweetly, when her Phylax used to speak,  
Did all her Breast into Compliance melt,  
And way to their own gentle Conquests make:  
Besides, the Voice, though woudrous Sweet it were,  
Yet something out of tune it seemed to her.   

419.  
Too high it seemed, and of too loud a Strain:  
Still was the Music of her Spouse; and she  
No Saints remembered that did e'er complain  
That Jesus called them to Extremity,  
That Trumpets did the Gospel usher in,  
And Wars Alarm the Calm of Peace begin.   

420.  
Had this great Message from her Spouse been sent.  
She knew her Heart [which now did pant and move  
By His sole Motions,] must needs relent,  
And by Submission His Command approve:  
But now she by reluctant Nausoousnesse  
Felt, whosefoe'r it were, 'twas none of His.   

421.  
awakening therefore all her Confidence,  
And with three Invocations having sued,  
Her Saviour to engage in her Defence,  
Upon her faithful Forehead she renewed  
His potent Sign, and then with courage cried:  
In Lights fair Looks why dost thou Darkness hide   

422.  
Whatever thy face doth preach unto mine Eye;  
The language of thy Tongue-unto mine Ear,  
Sounds nothing less than Phylax: wherefore high  
Thee hence, false Fiend, and seek thy Booty where  
A beauteous Countenance, and a snowy Pair  
Of Wings, the full Proof of an Angel are.   

423.  
As when the Suns near Beams burst out upon  
A waxen Idol, strait its goodly Face  
Too weak to bear that glorious Dint, doth run  
Away in droiling Drops, and fowls the place  
Which it before adorned: So here the Fiend  
Melted as soons this servant Answer shined.   

424.  
Off fell his Coat, his Periwig, his Wings,  
His roseal Vizard, and his Milky Skin:  
And in the room of those usurped I hangs  
His proper shape of Horror did begin  
To cloth him round: at which, indignant He,  
Lest Psyche should triumph his shame to see,   

425.  
Tore his Way down to Hell, that there in Night  
He might his Head, and Ignominy hide;  
A thousand Stinks behind him, at his flight,  
He left: and being gotten home, he tried  
Upon the Souls which in his Brimstone Lake  
All yelling lay, his vexed Spite to wreak.   

426.  
Mean while, as Psyche those acquaint Spoils admired  
Which dropped from her beauteous-hideons Foe,  
And with her Sacrifice of Thanks aspired  
Unto the foot-stoool of her Saviour, who  
Had in that fight her faithful Champion been:  
Her true and genuine Phylax fluttered in,   

427.  
O how her Heart leaped at the welcome sight,  
And thus broke from her Lips! Thou, Thou art He,  
I know thee at the dawning of thy Light  
In which no Fawn, no Impostures be:  
Spare all Probations; Thou needst not tell  
Me who thou art: I know my Phylax well.   

428.  
This said; Herself down at his feet she threw,  
Which hugging fast, she welcomed with a Kiss.  
He gave her Passion leave a while to show  
The meek Impatience of this sweet Excess:  
Then up he took her, and returned upon  
Her Lip, what she unto his Feet had done.   

429.  
And, Joy, said he, my dearest Dear, of thy  
Victorious-Encounter with thy Foe:  
That goodly Furniture of Treason, I  
As well as thou who art the Victor, know:  
I saw the pilfering Traitor when he picked  
It up, and when with it himself he tricked.   

430.  
Close at his heels I followed, when he  
His forgery advanced, and hither flew:  
I was Spectator when he set on Thee,  
And in heavens Name his Hell against thee drew:  
Unseen, I saw the dangerous Battle; and  
By it I stood, but aided not thine Hand.   

431.  
No: thy dear Spouse, who never doth forget  
His humble faithful Servants, did supply  
Abundant Power, and conveied it  
By ever-ready Chari's Ministry.  
I claim no share at all: thy Thanks to none  
But Him, and Her are due, and must be done.   

432.  
Thou seest how bountifully They repay  
The Loyalty of thy Mortification,  
And what thou 'gainst by giving Thelema  
To Him who will not be in Debt. Thy Station  
Is now Secure, unless thou back dost start,  
And fond home again recall thine Heart.   

433.  
Surely thou never hadst so much thy Will,  
As since thou hadst it not; for All things now  
Throughout the Universe thy Mind fulfil,  
And Netures Laws unto thy Pleasure bow:  
〈◊〉 Pleasure, which is not thine own, but His  
Who of Omnipotence the Sovereign is.   

434.  
The dainty Peace which thou didst prise so high  
Hath now its Lodging taken in thy Breast;  
Nor could the Tempter's potent Subtlety  
Disturb thy Calm, or undermine thy Rest.  
Be then Content for ever to possess,  
By holding fast thine Hold, thine Happiness.   

435.  
For if thou lettest it slip, and weary be  
Of blessed Ease, it soon will fly away:  
In this low flitting World, no Certainty  
Was ever yet Inhabitant; and they  
Alone be out of Changes reach, who are  
Infeof d above in endless Quiet's Sphere.   

436.  
'Tis true, those everlasting Chains which tie  
heavens Destinations to their Ends, excel  
All Adamantine Power, and can by  
No opposition of Eartn or Hell  
Be forced to betray their Hold: yet this  
No ground of Confidence to Mortals is.   

437.  
For those Decrees profoundly treasured are  
In that bright Bosom which no Angel's Eye  
Can peep into. This maketh pious Fear,  
Religious Awe, and holy Jealousy,  
The only Anchors which Assurance can  
Afford unto the tossed Heart of Man.   

438.  
And 'tis heavens mighty Favour too; lest He  
Should bold and careless grow, if once he saw  
The Patent of his own Felicity  
Were signed and sealed so sure, that by the Law  
Of absolute Necessity, he through  
All Tempests, safely to his Port must row   

439.  
For than were He no better than a Slave  
Unto that Bliss, whose Crown prepared is  
For them who venture at it by the brave  
Ambition of humble holiness.  
Then, if He would, his mighty God might He  
Disdain, and dare Him with his own Decree,   

440.  
O then with reverend dread march on, my dear,  
In the design of thy high virtue; and  
Think it sufficient happiness, if here  
Thy Fear can Desperation countermand;  
If thou by trembling canst Victorious be,  
And win at length supreme Felicity.   

441.  
As for these Spoils, the Trophies they shall be  
Of what by Love's assistance Thou hast done:  
This Memorandum of thy Victory  
May keep awake thy wise Devotion:  
Lo, here I hang them up; and if again  
The Serpent hither creep, show Him his skin.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XVIII. The Persecution.  
ARGUMENT.  

SAtan makes war on Psyche's Constancy  
Both by his own, and Persecution's Hand;  
Yet still impregnably-resolved She  
Their Ambushes and Onsets did withstand,  
Until her Guardian by a Blessed Cheat  
Enforced her to a glorious Retreat.   

1.  
THough Joys, and Loves, and Bliss, their Nest do make  
In Peace's bosom; often times beneath  
That surface of Security a Snake  
His unsuspected Venomous spite doth breathe.  
For 'tis an everlasting statute, That  
No genuine Rest can here below be got.   

2.  
The Creatures courteous faithlessness, who still  
Shrink from our grasping Hands, and Cheat our Hope,  
Admonish our desires themselves to fill  
At those pure Sping of fullness, which stand open  
In Heaven alone; and never fancy here  
Complete Contents and Satisfaction's sphere.   

3.  
This maketh brave and hardy Exercise  
Dearer to Virtue than is lazy Quiet;  
This maketh her so highly Patience prize,  
So constantly herself with Sufferings diet,  
That this sharp Sauce may wholesomly repress  
Of Peace's Sweets and Fat the Fulsomeness.   

4.  
Affliction is the only School where she  
In Magnanimities high Rules is taught;  
The Theatre on which her Gallantry  
Before the royal Eyes of Heaven is brought:  
For both the Angels, and their Severaign there  
Ernest Spectators of her Courage are.   

5.  
Full well she knows, that stealing Rust will creep  
Upon the briskest Sword, if lazily  
In its blind quiet Scabbard it doth sleep,  
And be not rubbed, for chafed, nor vexed by  
Harsh Scouring, churlish Whetting, or kept bright  
By its perpetual business in the fight.   

6.  
That never Horse was made of so much Fire,  
Nor tempered for so proud impatient speed;  
(Though a true Pegasus had been his Sire,  
Or He of Phoebu's Coursers had been bred,)  
But, it he from his Manger ne'er did move,  
Would resty, lame, and illconditioned prove.   

7.  
That when the Air by long tranquillity  
Lies loitering in the Sun, it putrid grows:  
But when 'tis startled and afflicted by  
Thunder and Lightning; when it feels the Blows  
Of boisterous Winds, its drowsy dull Disease  
Wakes at the frightful News, and vanishes   

8.  
That sluggish Lakes, which always sleeping lie  
Upon their easy Beds of Mud, beget  
Of Toads and Stinks a nasty Progeny:  
But those brisk Rils which, though they be beset  
With craggy Hindrances, still running be,  
Preserve entire their Native Purity.   

9  
That never Soil was so ingenuous yet,  
But if it were not often digged and ploughed,  
Harrowed and torn, and forced to be fit,  
And Weeded oftener far than it was Sowed;  
In stead of Herbs, and Flowers, and honest Corn,  
With peevish Briars and Thorns would be forlorn.   

10.  
That never Tree was known so thrifty, as  
To spare its stock of Juice, and use it right;  
But to lose idle Twigs would let it pass,  
Which only seryed, and scarcely that, for Sight,  
Till the strict Discipline of the Pruning Hook  
Lopped off those Wantoness, and reformed the Stock.   

11.  
That finest Robes, when they did idle lie,  
Would gather nasty Dust, and fertile prove  
In an ungrateful ever-fretting Fry  
Of Moths, unless the Wands and Brushes strove  
Against their laziness, and day by day  
Those busy bold Incroachers whipped away.   

12.  
That Mariners who in the easy Bay  
Did both their Winter and their Summer waste,  
Would never learn to steet their Bark, till they  
Were by some Tempest into Danger cast,  
And had accustomed their venturous Minds  
To ken the boisterous Language of the Winds   

13.  
That Soldiers listed are in vain, and wear  
Steel by their Side, and Brass upon their head,  
If in the pitched Field they ne'er appear  
To See the hostile Ranks, and Standards spread,  
To meet the Shock, and bring away their Scars  
As Letters Testimonial of their Wars.   

14.  
And though no Life scarce any Name doth merit  
But that of War, (so many Enemies  
Poor Man doth by his wtetched Birth inherit,  
Since all the World did in Rebellion rise  
Against unhappy Adam) yet no State  
More than the Christian, is besieged with Hate.   

15.  
The Christian Life the furest Warfare is,  
And though a thousand Victories it gains  
Then still more and more Armies on it press;  
More Care, more Sweat, more Labour still remains.  
Though Peace may an internal Calm beget,  
Affliction still will Us without beset.   

16.  
Though all the stickling Senses and the Passions,  
Which breed intestine Perturbations, be  
Bowed to the Yoke; though all the 〈◊〉  
Of Will and Reason, by the industry  
Of the 〈◊〉 Soul be tamed, yet still  
There is a World without to work her ill.   

17.  
For by her Christian Course against the Tide  
Of all the World she rows; and therefore by  
Eternal Opposition is tri d  
And hardened to victorious Constancy:  
For had she floated down the willing stream,  
No way was there Magnanimous to seem.   

18.  
But now her gallant Metal whetted is,  
Her vain luxuriant Twigs are pruned away,  
Her Clothes are brushed from Moths and Dustinesse,  
Her Soil is digged and dressed; the lazy Bay  
She changeth for the active manly Main,  
And in pitched Field her Foes doth entertain.   

19  
Her Beasts unto their Pace are strictly kept,  
And rid hard every Day; her wholesome Air  
By 〈◊〉 Tempests of loud Sighs is swept,  
And all her Bosom's Region made more fair;  
The Torrents of her Eyes continue clear,  
Because perpetualy they flowing are,   

20.  
Thus, though Afflictions Looks be sad and sour,  
Her Heart is Kind, and she the best of Friends;  
Whilst Flattery doth Poison gently pour,  
Her Antidotes She most severely lends:  
Her Physic smart and searching Corrosives be,  
But their Conclusion's always Lenity.   

21.  
And Psyche's Spouse, though dear to Him she were  
As the bright Apple of his blessed Eye,  
Unto Afflictions swinge abandoned her:  
That as the Sun through the Conspiracy  
Of blackest Clouds doth break with fairest Rays,  
So might her Virtue pluck from Briars Bays.   

22.  
As Satan from his late Repulse did fly  
Stung with confounding Shame and fretful Rage,  
He in the Air spied a winged Company  
To heaven returning in fair equipage,  
Having their Embassies dispatched here  
With which to Men they delegated were.   

23.  
This prompted him unto a new Device:  
With sprightfuil Speed he played the Thief again,  
And having stole a 〈◊〉 of Gallantries,  
After the Angel Troop he posts amain,  
Trimming his cursed Feature as he flew,  
Till like a Bird of that fair Brood he grew   

24.  
Something behind he lagged, least piercing They  
His impudent Impossure should 〈◊〉,  
And intercept his Project by the Way  
In just Disdam of his foul Company.  
So at wise distance doth the Traitor sneak  
When he with Honest Men doth entrance seek,   

25.  
But as he siuttered through the Spheres, he bit  
His Lips to see the fatal Way whereby  
He once was tumbled headlong down: and yet  
Though they with Curses and fell Blasphemy  
Were big, he durst not open them, knowing well  
Heaven ill would bear the dialect of Hell.   

26.  
Arrived at the everlasting Gate  
Of the imperial Palace of the Skies,  
The Angels entered in triumphant State,  
Account to tender of their Embassies:  
But Satan siarted so, that he well near  
Shoked off his Vizard by his trembling fear.   

27.  
The mighty Lustre of his Maker's 〈◊〉  
Flashed such Dread on his, that swarthy He  
Who had been used to Night's black Prodigies,  
Was dazzled at the naked Majesty  
Of more than Day: Three times he winked, & there,  
With both his Hands his spurious Eyes did screen.   

28.  
Such fright upon the ugly Bat doth seize  
When Highnoon's darts of Lustre shoot her through.  
The woeful Ghosts, who in Night's Shades do please  
Their gloomy Thoughts, thus terrified grow  
If fair Aurora's Curtains open be drawn,  
And she herself gets up e'er they be down,   

29.  
The gallant Spectacles which here he saw  
Were greater Torments than he felt at home;  
Each Glory's Splendour which about did flow  
Burnt him far more than his own tiery Doom  
Each holy Joy a Torture was, and He  
Fried in the midst of this 〈◊〉,   

30.  
He fried and flamed, and strait his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
His polished Looks, his curled Grove of Hair,  
His dainty Coat, and all his stolen Things  
A Sacrifice unto the Lightning were  
Of Jesu's Eyes, and in his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
He now appeared of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

31.  
The Angels started from Him at the sight,  
And standing in a Circle far away,  
Gazed on the Portent; who tried all the Might  
Of desperate Boldness, yet could not gainsay  
The guilty shame which now did Him aslail:  
Down hung his Head, his Talons, and his Tail.   

32.  
Thus when the conscious Traitors hateful Face  
Is in the Presence of the Prince descried,  
And persecuted by the full disgrace  
Of all the loyal Court; against that Tide  
Of Ignominy He in vain contends;  
Such Horror all his Impudence transcends.   

33.  
As Jesus saw the Fiend a bashed so,  
He charged Him to relate from whence He came:  
Nor durst the thus commanded Monster, though  
Lies were his only Trade, a Fiction frame:  
Yet scorning to forget his peevish Pride,  
With dogged sullenness He thus replied:   

34.  
Whence can I come, but from beneath? Unless  
There be some higher Place than this your Heaven;  
This Heaven, from whence by you, I must confess,  
(But let all judge how justly,) I was driven.  
From visiting the Earth I come, where I  
Have far more Subjects than your Deity.   

35.  
But mine, said Jesus, (for He scorned to chide  
The stomachful Fiend, since ever-damned He  
Sufficiently pays for his endless Pride,)  
Although so rare and few, yet precious be:  
Vain Multitudes to thee their Homage pay;  
Mine not by number, but by weight I weigh.   

36.  
Let one Example speak the praise of All,  
My Handmaid Psyche: Hath thy watchful Eye,  
Which scoureth round about the terreen Ball,  
Full notice taken of her Piety?  
And how none live in all the World who be  
Higher above it, than is Virtuous she?   

37.  
Is not her Heart entirely fixed here,  
Preoccupating Heaven and endless Bliss?  
Nor Earth nor Hell can strike her Soul with fear,  
But He alone who her Creator is;  
Of Him she always stands in dainty Aw,  
For still she Loves, as much as Dreads His Law.   

38.  
But wheresoe'er she reads the open face,  
Or can discover but a Limb or Claw  
Of hideous sin, she flies the dangerous Place,  
And into any hard shifts doth withdraw,  
Rather than hazard to be overrun  
With a delicious Destruction.   

39  
Is not the Temper of her wary Heart,  
Admonished by wise instinct, afraid  
Of every Bait which by the subtlest Art  
Of Spite and Wickedness for her is laid?  
Or is there any thing which she doth more  
Than thee, even in thy fairest looks, abhor?   

40.  
Stung by these Words, with strong intestine Pain  
His heartstrings stretched and torn the Monster felt;  
Yet that he might not bear these Pangs in vain,  
But be aforehand still in shameless guilt,  
He reared his face of everlasting Brass,  
And what He spoke, of the same metal was:   

41.  
Is not your mighty Providential Arm  
Become that simple Maiden's Hedge, said he,  
Infallibly to shut out Fear and Harm,  
And make her Prisoner to Security?  
Is not brave Phylax forced to be her squire,  
And dance attendance upon her desire?   

42.  
On all her Errands runs not servile He?  
Has he not trotted from the furthest West  
In duty to her Curiosity,  
And spent his time in tracing of the East;  
Where like a silly Pilgrim, up and down  
Forsooth, the Angel went from town to town.   

43.  
Besides, your Daughter Charis, (and yet who  
Would think her so, who her employment sees?)  
As though in Heaven she nothing had to do,  
Down to vile Earth is sent, and set to please  
This Imp of dust, on whom her noble store  
Of sweets, to win the Vrcheon, she doth doth pour.   

44.  
A proper purchase you have got; but I  
For my part, would not buy a worm so dear:  
If wretched Psyche's price must be so high,  
Surely you need no other Chapmen fear:  
Only by this proportion, I would know  
To purchase Me, what rate you would allow.   

45.  
But as for Her, if I had leave to try,  
I soon would show you of what kind of Clay  
She moulded is. Might Phylax but stand by,  
And on her naked Shoulder let Me lay  
This Hand of mine, no Touchstone you should see  
Was ever nimbler at Discovery;   

46.  
Upon your pampered Darling should Distress  
With full and free Commission domineer  
That Tongue which now your Praises doth profess  
(For to the Task 'tis hird, and hired full dear,)  
Would change its Tune, & on your Face would spit  
More Curses than myself e'er did on it.   

47.  
If Psyche's Breast do harbour any seed  
Of such profound Ingratitude, replied  
Almighty Jesus, 'tis no more than need  
The ugly Embryo be in time descried.  
Go, use thy Skill; full Power to Thee I give,  
Nor Phylax shall against thy Project strive.   

48.  
But yet thy Tether shall not reach so far  
As to her Life; no, that belongs to Me;  
For in my Hand th' authentic Volumes are  
Of mortal and immortal Destiny:  
Nor couldst Thou thy Experiment take, unless  
She Lives, to spit out her Unthank fullness.   

49.  
As when the Lion's let loose to his prey,  
With furious Joy he shakes his dreadful Crest,  
He mounts his sirly Tail, and tears his way  
Into the Theatre: So Satan pressed  
Down through the Spheres, and thought his shame was cheap  
He suffered there, since he his End did reap.   

50.  
At first he hoped he might have reached his Aim  
By the fell Agents he dispatched from Hell:  
But when without their Errand home they came,  
Himself thus to the cursed business fell,  
Resolved whatever labour or Disgrace  
It cost Him, Psyche should not scape his chase.   

51.  
Down through the Spheres he pressed, and proudly threw  
Scorn on the Stars which He could not possess,  
Then through the Air imperiously He flew,  
And by his Looks proclaimed that Realm was his:  
The blackest Clouds which there did swimm, made haste  
Away, till He more black than they, were passed.   

52.  
His swarthy Wings lashed the soft Element  
With violent speed, and made it roar aloud;  
No Wind did ever with such furious Bent  
Or hideous Noise through the mild Region crowd;  
No Bolt of Thunder ever rend its path  
With such impatient and tumultuous Wrath,   

53.  
Thus came the Monster to his dearest Place  
On Earth, a Palace wondrous large and high;  
For on seven Mountains it erected was,  
All which it higher raised with Majesty;  
Thus by its seau'nfold Tumour copying  
The number of the Horns which crowned its King   

54.  
Of dead men's Bones were all th' exterior Walls  
Raised to a fair, but yet an hideous Height;  
In answer to which strange Materials,  
A Ditch digged wondrous deep and broad, did wait  
Upon the Works, filled with a piteous flood  
Of every soft of holy harmless Blood,   

55.  
Those awful Birds, whose Joy is ravenous War,  
Strong-tallond Eagles, perched upon the head  
Of every Turret, took their prospect far  
And wide about the World, and questioned  
Each Wind that came that way, to know if they  
Could tell them news of any bloody Prey.   

56.  
The inner Bulwarks were of shineing Brass,  
With Firmitude and Pride all Buttressed;  
In at the Gate of polished Steel did pass  
The whole World's Confluence, and offered  
Their slavish Necks, to take the Yoke which there  
That Places Tyrant did for Them prepare.   

57  
But thick, within the Line, erected were  
Innumerable Prisons, plated round  
With massy Iron, and with jealous Fear;  
In every one of which was a profound  
And miry Dungeon, where contagious Stink  
Cold, Anguish, Horror, had their dismal sink   

58.  
In these, pressed down with Chains of fretting Braffe  
Ten thousand innocent Lambs did bleatingly,  
Whose woeful Groans, helped by the hollow Place  
Summoned Compassion from the Passers by;  
But every one they as relentless found  
As was the Brass which them to Sorrow bound.   

59  
For they designed for the Shambles were,  
To feast the Tyrant's greedy Cruelty,  
Who could be pleased with no other Fare;  
So barbarous was her constant Luxury:  
Though other store she had for her repast,  
She with an hundred Lives would break her fast.   

60.  
Vast were the Treasures of her House; yet she  
Took pleasure in no other Furniture  
But choicest tools of Inhumanity,  
Which might her bloody Ends to her assure:  
This made her Palace thick with Engines lie,  
And every Room become an Armoury.   

61.  
Swords, Daggers, Bodkins, bearded Arrows, Spears,  
Nails, Pincers, Crosses, Gibbets, Hurdles, Ropes,  
Talons of griffins, Paws and Teeth of Bears,  
Tigers and Lion's Mouths, hot-iron Hoops,  
Racks, Wheels, Strappadoes, brazen Cauldrons which  
Boiled with oil, barrels of flaming Pitch:   

62.  
Yea things more barbarous yet than these were there;  
Fairfaced Promises, but lined with spite;  
High royal out side Courtesies, yet mere  
Traps and Conspiracies, which with Delight  
To heedless Men the worst of Poisons give,  
And stealing to their Hearts, slay them alive.   

63.  
Satan arrived here, straight entered in;  
(For well He knew the Place, and well was known,)  
The fawning Courtiers all were proud to win  
His gracious Look, and in his way fell down  
To beg his Blessing, and his Hand to Kiss,  
As in unto their Sovereign He did press.   

64.  
She then (for long within she could not stay)  
Was marching out, her Chariot to take,  
So loud her stomach barked for some new Prey:  
But spying Belzebub, she started back,  
Being surprised with reverence to see  
The presence of her only Deity.   

65.  
Then down she fell, and prayed him to ascend  
Her throne imperial, which was standing there,  
And thence his Pleasure unto her-commend,  
Prepared with all Humility to hear  
What business made her God vouchsafe to come  
And visit worthless her in her poor home.   

66.  
But kindly He took up his loyal Creature  
And in his scaley Arms did her embrace,  
Enamoured of her correspondent Feature  
Which rendered Him his own Infernal Face.  
Three times He Kissed and hug'd her close, and round  
About her Waste his royal tail He wound.   

67.  
And, I have no such leisure now, said He,  
To climb thy throne, who must look to mine own;  
I have discovered in my Brittany  
The Seeds of dangerous Rebellion sown,  
Which, if it grow unto an Harvest, may  
Disturb mine Empire, and thine oversway.   

68  
The Christian spreading Canker there hath got  
Deep footing in the Hearts of careless Men,  
Who to the poor Mechanic God are not  
Ashamed to pay their holiest Homage, when  
With credit They might it to Me prefer,  
Who am, I trow, more than a Carpenter.   

69.  
Me thinks my Sceptre should as noble be  
As Axe or Mallet; and as brave my Train  
Of Heaven descended Sparks, the gallanty  
Of whose high Souls did Gods own yoke disdain,  
As those who leaping from their Fishing Boat,  
Into the threadbare Court of Jesus got.   

70.  
They use to cast it in our Teeth, that We  
By the black Powers of Spells and Incantations  
Do both support and spread our Monarchy:  
As if there were not stranger Conjurations  
In this besotting Witchery which can  
Make more than Beasts of Reasonable Man.   

71.  
For canst thou pick out any Beasts among  
The silliest Flocks, who would themselves commit,  
To Him who leaves them free to any Wrong,  
And tells them plainly they must suffer it  
For his dear sake? Right dear, indeed, if they  
Their lives unto His Memory must pay.   

72.  
Mad were the Sheep which would attendant be  
Upon a Shepherd who did them assure  
That for that only Cause the Tyranny  
Of thousand Wolves and Bears they must endure  
Nay Sheep would never be so sheepish; yet  
Men to this Paradox themselves submit.   

73.  
Grant Heaven be in reversion their own;  
What shall the foundlings get by being there,  
Who must eternaly be crouching down  
And paying Praise's tribute to His Ear  
Who will requite them with a Chain which shall  
Keep even their Wills in everlasting Thrall.   

74.  
Were not their Souls more generous, if they  
The gallant freedom of our Hell would choose,  
Which knows not what it meaneth to Obey,  
But le's full Blasphemy for ever loose?  
Faint-hearted fools, who needs will Vassals be,  
(For fear lest I should make them truly free.   

75.  
Thou see'st this sin is crying, and for high  
Revenge beats loud upon my royal Ear:  
And should my Fury wake, and instantly  
Those mad 〈◊〉 all in pieces tear,  
Surely my Justice I could well acquit;  
However envious Heaven would rail at it.   

76.  
But I (for this doth best become a King)  
A better relish find in Lenity:  
I know the Galileans Tongues do ring  
With restless Clamours on my Tyranny,  
Forgetting that their Lord did banish Me  
From Heaven, against all Law and Equity.   

77.  
Yet shall not they Me so ignoble make  
As to requite their Baseness in its kind:  
No: let them henceforth Demonstration take  
In what a pack of Forgeries combined  
Unto my Charge they lay all Cruelties:  
Judge all the World, who Father is of lies.   

78.  
For I resolved am at first to try  
Them by my royal Mercy to reclaim:  
Far rather would I win them thus, than by  
Stern Vengeance utterly extirpate them.  
The People's fault alas, is not so great  
As His, whose Gospel Pipe charmed them to it.   

79.  
My pleasure therefore is, that thou mak'st speed  
To Britain, and divulge my Proclamation  
Of Grace and Pardon unto every Head  
Which straight abjures that dangerous Innovation,  
And, penitent for his Christian Heresy,  
With orthodox Devotion Bows to Me.   

80.  
But if my princely favour be despised,  
Both Heaven and Earth must needs my Rage approve;  
Denounce all Vengeance that can be devised  
By scorned, and therefore most indignant Love:  
Make all the stupid stubborn Rebels feel  
That Mary's Son cannot my Wrath repel.   

81.  
This said, The Fury, who had all this while  
Smiled in hopes of her new Task, made haste  
To take her Coach, and thought each step a Mile  
As through the spacious House to it she past.  
Then mounting at the Gate, they parted, He  
Home to his Hell, and to wards Britain She.   

82.  
Forth with in terrible Magnificence  
An hundred Trumpets sent their Voice before  
To tell the People that their awful Prince  
Her Progress now began: That stately Roar  
Through every street imperiously flew,  
And warned 〈◊〉, this mighty sight to view.   

83.  
When lo the sweeting throngs bespread her way  
With admirations of her Pomp and Train:  
Before the Chariot two road single, they  
Suspicion were and Envy; both did rein  
Their fitting Steeds, the one a Fox, the other  
A Wolf, and forced them to march together,   

84.  
Next followed Pride upon a sirly Horse,  
Whose stomach near as high as hers did swell;  
Fire sparkled in his eyes, and martial force  
In the bend Bow of his large neck did dwell;  
About he flung his Foam, and champed his Bit,  
For both his Rider he disdained, and it.   

85.  
But she an Ensign in her right Hand held,  
Whose bosom she displayed to the Wind:  
Forth with the Flag with stately fullness swelled,  
Wherein the Tyrant's golden Scutcheon shined,  
A wide-spred Eagle, whose fair Pinions seemed  
To bear her up still as the Colours streamed.   

86.  
Then came the Coach, which two strange Monsters drew,  
For one a dreadful Lybian Dragon was,  
Who from his Mouth did flaming Sulphur spew,  
And poisoned all the Way which he did pass:  
The other an enormous Crocodile  
The most accursed Son of happy Nile.   

87.  
On them two fierce postilions mounted were;  
Intolerable headstrong Anger, who  
To lash her Dragon never did forbear  
Though he with Fury's violent Feet did go;  
And Cruelty, whose Heart was harder than  
Her knotty 〈◊〉 black iron Skin.   

88  
Upon the Coachbox sat a Driver height  
Self-will, a mad-braind most outrageous He:  
Who in impatient Speed doth still delight:  
Though thousand Perils in his Passage be:  
Never could Hills or Dales, or Sea or Land,  
Or desperate Precipices make Him stand.   

89.  
The Metal of the Chariot all was Brass,  
Bright burning Brass, which upon either side  
With sharp and cruel Hooks thick plaited was,  
To mow down All it met: In this did ride  
The dreadful Queen, a Queen of mighty Fame;  
Who hath not heard of Persecutions Name   

90.  
Whatever makes the Tigers Faces be  
Of ravenous Cruelty the hideous Book,  
With indefatigable Industry  
She had transcribed into her monstrous Look:  
Heaven shield all pious Souls, and turn their Fears  
To generous Faith when ever She appears.   

91.  
Her Coat is steel, besmeared all with blood,  
And in her Hand she holds a Twist of Snakes,  
With which, though still her Coachman never stood,  
Eternaly she threshes Him, and makes  
His furious Speedmore speedy grow, that she  
Might at her Prey as soons her Wishes be.   

92.  
Thus whirled she through the Popular Rout and flew  
To her desired Isle the straitest way.  
Behind the Coach her cursed Train, she drew  
All glad to tread her cruel Steps, for they  
No other were but her own hellish Brood  
Whom she had nursed and fattened up with Blood.   

93.  
Upon a Goat, more stinking far than he,  
Road Ravishment, who threw his liquorish Eyes.  
And they black fire, on every Company  
Of Females of what everage or guise:  
The Chariot's haste he cursed a thousand times  
Which snatched Him from the fuel of his Crimes   

94.  
Perched on a Vultures back was 〈◊〉, who  
In length of 〈◊〉 did that Bird exceed;  
Starved with 〈◊〉 though fat in Spoils, she so  
〈◊〉 was, that still she wished more speed  
Had hurried on the Coach, that ravenous she  
Might sooner at her British Banquet be.   

95.  
Upon an Ostrich, more unnatural  
Than was her barbarous Bird, road Astorgie,  
Vowing aloud to tear in sunder all  
Those cords of love which did together tie  
The Souls of Parents and of Children, and  
Break the sweet Links of every Nuptial Band.   

96.  
Mounted upon an Hydra, Heresy  
With more and stranger heads than had her Steed.  
Rejoiced in hope that now contagious she  
Her Poison to another World should spread,  
And Albion's Sands which bridled in the Sea  
Should by her stouter Tide o'r-flowed be.   

97.  
On a black grizlie Dog road Profanation;  
She who ne'er learned distinction of Place  
Or Time or Things; who never yet could fashion  
A modest Look, or paint upon her face  
The least glimpse of a Blush; who would not hear  
That Altars holier than Dressers were.   

98.  
Bold Sacrilegde sat pertly on a Kite;  
And though her Claws were burned, and singed her Wings,  
E'er since she from the Altar took her flight,  
(For vengeful Coals stuck to the Sacred Things,  
Branding the saucy Thief,) yet shameless she  
A robbing Heaven and God, again would be.   

99  
Upon a Serpent bred in Hell beneath,  
Which belched fire at every Step he took,  
Which reached Heaven with his pestiferous breath.  
Which fought with holy Incense by the Smoke  
Of his foul Throat, road fouler Blasphemy,  
And dared all the way Divinity.   

100  
But on an Heifer of Egyptian Race;  
Right proud of his Extraction, (for he  
The Heir of Apis and of Isis was,)  
Sat full as gross a Brute, Idolatry:  
And yet Devotes, grosser than her Beast,  
Or she, about her with their Offerings pressed   

101.  
And this was 〈◊〉 royal Train,  
Which all the way she went, struck mortal fright  
Into the Countries, travelling in Pain,  
As she in Triumph, till her speedy flight  
Had born her past them, and gave them release  
From their dark Dens and hollow Privacies.   

102.  
Poor Albion thrice started as she drew  
Near to her shore, and would have further run  
Into the Sea: but now the Tyrant flew  
With cursed joy into possession  
Of the unhappy Isle, where dreadful She  
Took up her quarters in a Colony.   

103.  
From thence she issued out her Proclamations  
Of Pardon unto all that would come in;  
But backed it with severest Denuntiations  
To those who still continued in their Sin,  
Who still would waste their Piety upon  
The Carpenters poor Crucified Son.   

104.  
She summoned all the Isle to Reformation,  
That mighty Jove by whose high blessing she  
Reigned Queen of all the World, in worthy fashion  
And like his supreme Self, might Worshipped be;  
That pleased He might rain his favours down,  
And Albion with Peace and Plenty crown.   

105.  
For by her royal Declaration She  
All blast, mildews, droughts, plagues, earthquakes, wars,  
Laid to the sole charge of Christianity:  
Which impious Sect, said she, so boldly dares  
The Wrath of all the Gods, that righteous They  
Upon the Earth must needs this vengeance lay.   

106.  
Forthwith, all those whose bosoms tainted were  
With the rank Venom of Idolatry,  
Luxuriously joyed the news to hear,  
And with immediate Consluence did fly  
To do their homage, and their thanks prefer  
Even in the Name of succoured Jove, to Her.   

107.  
Then They, who could have loved Pretty,  
Yet none but faint and timorous Virtue knew,  
They in whose Hearts the World and Self did lie,  
As well as Jesus; They who would have drawn  
In th' evangelic yoke with patience, so  
Mean while their secular Plough might also go;   

108.  
They who conceived for Wives and children's sake,  
Who were depending upon their sole Care,  
(So dream's the faithless foundlings) they might make  
A little bold with God; And they who were  
In hopes Heaven to their Prayers would courteous be  
And wink at what flowed from 〈◊〉,   

109.  
Came in the Rear like Men who Scarcely came,  
For not so much as half their Minds were there;  
Under the Evenings guilty veil their shame  
They sheltered, for they Days Eyes did fear.  
Unhappy Men, what ail you thus to go?  
Yourselves condemn yourselves for what you do.   

110.  
But they whose loyalty was firm and sound,  
They who to Love entirely had resigned  
Themselves, such sweetness in his service found  
As left the Baits of all the World behind:  
Such sweetness as enforced to be sweet  
That Gall which flow d in Persecutions Threat.   

111.  
Sooner will They be charmed by the Hiss  
Of a fell Dragon, to his Den to go,  
Than be persuaded to accept of this  
So treacherous and destructive Pardon: no,  
What e'er They lose, they from their Loss will 〈◊〉  
This noble Gain, that they Themselves will keep.   

112.  
Their Life, their Fame, Estate, and Liberty,  
They can more easily than their Conscience spare:  
They nothing count their Own, which cannot be  
Without Impiety possessed; and are  
Content with any Thing but God to part,  
Who only can secure Them their own Heart.   

113.  
Psyche was one, and not the meanest One,  
Of these brave Champions, who, since Phylax had  
(Heaven having so disposed) left her alone,  
Her meek Addresses to Uranius made;  
An holy Priest was He, and unto Her  
An Oracle in any Doubt or fear.   

114.  
To you, said She, my reverend Father,  
Now Persecutions furious Storm doth 〈◊〉,  
As to my wise and faithful Pilot fly,  
Not to be steered where Calamities  
May never reach my Uessel; but to know  
The nearest way how I to them may row.   

115.  
Forbid it genuine Love, that I should fly  
The noblest Testimony I can give  
Of my, o how deserved, Loyalty  
Unto my Spouse, for whom alone I live:  
For him I live; and must that Truth deny,  
If in his Quarrel I refuse to die.   

116.  
Was not His Life ten thousand times more dear  
And precious than Mine? yet generous He  
The utmost drop of his Heartblood could spare  
Even for the worst of Worms, vile sinful Me:  
Loud cries the merit of this Blood, and I  
Could I die oft for Him, in debt should die.   

117.  
And, should I shrink from one poor Death, what Eye  
Would not shoot Wrath at such Unthankfulness?  
How should I hate myself, and strive to die  
For shame of Fearing Death? yet, I confess,  
This Life so wretched is and poor, that we  
By Martyrdom do Heaven no Courtesy.   

118.  
Mine all the Gains will be; nor know I how  
To scape this Profit: which if I could shun,  
My Death more Solace would to me allow,  
And to the Stake I cheerlier should run.  
But since that may not be; since Bliss is still  
Tied to these Sufferings. let Love have his Will.   

119.  
Let Love assert his own Magnificence,  
And make Us for our very Service be  
Deeper in Debt to him: yet I will hence  
Revenge me of His Liberality,  
And do my best to run upon the Score  
With this great Creditor forevermore.   

120.  
But sage Uranius, who was better read  
In the cool Gospel Discipline replied,  
The fire by which those flames of thine are bred  
Is pure and genuine; but they blaze too wide:  
Dear Daughter be content, and think that I  
Can wish and dare, as well as you, to Dy.   

121.  
Yet I am not so hasty to prevent  
My Spouse's pleasure, who, for aught I know,  
Desires Vranius should rest content  
To wrestle still with Sorrows here below;  
Still 〈◊〉 be exiled from the blessed Sight  
Of his dear Eyes, and grovel here in Night   

122.  
Besides, if I before His Call should run,  
This hot Impatience might outstrip his Grace:  
And how should feeble I, thus left alone,  
Find courage to out-look the dreadful Face  
Of Death, when dressed in martial Array  
He gives the Onset to my Dust and Clay.   

123.  
What General will thank that Captain, who  
Without Commission has presumed to fight?  
Into the Lists of any Prisoner go  
With Tigers or with Bears to try his Might  
E r He be called, what Eye will grieve to see  
His torn Limbs pay for his temereity.   

124.  
It is enough if when We challenged are,  
We flinch not from Professing his sweet Name,  
Which in our Bosoms sits more near and dear  
Than Life itself. Mean while think it no 〈◊〉  
To balk the Tempest, which will easily 〈◊〉  
Thy Haven, and Thee, if Jesus have a mind.   

125.  
As the young Soldier, who was more on fire  
Than his fierce sparkling Steed, the Charge to give,  
When by some old Commander his Desire  
As rash and perilous, doth a Curb receive,  
Almost as hard he finds it to subdue  
His single Self, as all his Hostile Crew.   

126.  
So Psyche crossed in her venturous Way  
By the grave bulk of the sage Priest's Advice;  
Found it an heavy troublous Task to stay,  
And shun the winning of her dearest Prize:  
Yet knowing He was wiser far than She,  
She bravely yields, and gains Selfe-victory.   

127.  
Uranius well remembered now how He,  
Then young and shiftless: by his Parents was  
Into a Nest of silent Privacy,  
To which they through a Wilderness did pass,  
Hurried by Night, when such a Storm as this  
Into the Britain Hemisphere did press.   

128.  
Thither, when Even had muffled up the Eye  
Of Heaven, and those of Earth, he Psyche led;  
For by a Lantern which would not descry  
More than he pleased, her way he governed;  
And so arrived at the Cavern, where  
Cheerly he bade the Maid be of good cheer.   

129.  
It is no new Adventure this, said he,  
But practised and well seasoned to our hand:  
Moses, that Man of God, was glad to flee,  
And wander up and down a forreing Land:  
No Partridge on the Mountains ever was  
More than good David, chased from place to place.   

130.  
Noble Elyah in the Desert hid  
His persecuted head, when Jezebel,  
Our Tyrant's Type, her threatenings thundered  
Against his Life: there he alone did dwell  
Having no kind of Caterer or Cook  
But a poor Raven, no Cellar but a Brook,   

131.  
Nay, even Jesus too himself did fly,  
When bloody Herod drew his desperate Sword:  
And never think it can discredit thy  
Devotion to follow Him thy Lord  
In any of his Steps, who only was  
The Way by which We to Perfection pass.   

132.  
Whilst thus the good old Man encouraged her:  
A Troop of furious Soldiers had by night  
Beset their Houses, in presumption there  
To find their helpless Prey; But when their flight  
They understood, their frustrate Expectation  
Flamed into most impatient Vexation.   

133.  
All rooms they ransacked, where what Goods ' they met  
Were hungry Plunders instant Sacrifice:  
Yet still their Rage unsatisfied, set  
The Houses too on Fire, and with loud Cries  
Threatened to serve the Owners so, when e'er  
Justice could make Discovery where they were.   

134.  
If any of the Neighbours, wounded by  
The savage Spectacle, but smote their Breast,  
Or shaked their Head, or mourned in a Sigh;  
The bar barous caitiffs took it for confessed  
That to their Queen they ill affected were,  
And instantly to Prison them did tear.   

135.  
Yet by the way, the cruel Courtesy  
Of hungry Thiefs they freely offered them  
Who ready were their lives and liberty  
With present sums of Money to redeem:  
Their Queen is safe enough, so they can line  
Their greedy Purses with Delinquents Coin.   

136.  
But through the Eastern Ruby Portals now  
Aurora opened the Passage to the Day:  
When lo an old and shaggy Lion, who  
Had busy been all night about his Prey,  
Came panting Home, and roaring loudly when  
He drew near to the Entrance of his Den,   

137.  
This Den was that in which for shelter lay  
The good Vranius and Psyche, who  
Rouz d by the Noise, but having now no way  
To fly the presence of their savage Foe,  
Their Hearts to Heaven with instant fervour sent,  
Imploring Succour in this Perils dint.   

138.  
In came the Beast, whose dreadful Mouth and Paw  
Still reeked with the Blood of his torn Prey:  
But those unwonted Guests when there he saw,  
Struck with the awsull News, he made a stay,  
And as he wistly looked, he smoothed his frown,  
And by degrees his Crest and Tail let down.   

139.  
Uranius musing what the Lion meant  
To melt so from himself, thus him bespoke:  
If He who is our Lord and thine, hath sent  
Thee hither with Commission to take  
Our lives, by gentler Tyranny than that  
From which We fled; lo we deny them not   

140.  
Much Solace it will be to Us, that we  
Augment not by our Deaths the Gild of Men;  
This bloody Trade doth better suit with Thee  
Of salvagenes the dreadful Sovereign, than  
With them, whose softer Constitutions be  
Tempered and tuned fit for Clemency.   

141.  
Yet if thou dost not on heavens Errand come,  
But the sole business of thy barbarous Thirst;  
Unarmed though we be, no Peril from  
Thy Paws or Jaws we dread; do all thy worst,  
So faithful He: and so said Psyche too;  
And waited what the Beast would dare to do.   

142.  
When lo, the trusty generous Lion, who  
No Vengeance ought to Men, but where he saw  
The print of Gild, and of Rebellion to  
Their common Sovereign; did meekly throw  
Himself before these Saints, in whom he read  
The Lines of reverend Innocence fairly spread.   

143.  
Then having humbly licked their holy Feet,  
And seemed to beg their blessings e'er he went;  
What universal Providence finds meet,  
Uranius cried, (perceiving what he meant,  
And useful for thee, may it given be  
In due requital of thy Piety.   

144.  
Which said, the joyful Lion took his leave  
With the best manners his rude Education  
Could him afford. The sight made Psyche grieve  
Reflecting with a sober Meditation  
On those unmanly Men she fled from who  
In barbarousness did wildest Beasts 〈◊〉   

145.  
And well she might: for now a trusty Friend  
Both to the Priest and Her, who knew the Place  
Of their abode, his way did thither rend  
With Ashes on his head, grief in his Face  
He being entered, silent stood a while,  
For Groans his breast, and sighs his Mouth did fill,   

146.  
But having prefaced thus, alas, he cried.  
That I have lived to bring this woeful News  
Yourselves have by your flight escaped the tide  
Of Salvagenes which all our Town embrues;  
But nothing else; for what behind you left,  
The Booty is of most outrageous Theft   

147.  
Your Houses, turned to their own funeral Pile,  
Now in their Ashes lie— vast sorrow here  
Stifled the rest But then, thy stories style  
To Us is not so dreadful; never fear  
That what remains will trouble us, replies  
The Priest, who dare embrace our Miseries.   

148.  
What e'er was ours, alas We never Made,  
But by Donation did it Possess:  
All that We had, We but as Stewards had;  
Well may our Master call for what was His.  
And Blessed be his Name, who Us from these  
Encumbrances so freely doth release.   

149.  
Chidden by this Heroic Bravery  
The Messenger took heart, and thus went on:  
Had furious Tyranny presumed to fly  
No higher than at you, and yours, alone,  
Tears might have reached that loss: but who can wail  
Enough, when God himself it doth assail   

150.  
The desperate 〈◊〉 feared not to break  
Into the sacted Oratory, (where  
Our business We with Heaven dispatched, for lack  
Of public safety for our Rites,) and there  
Made desperate havoc, challenging, in spite,  
God for his Temple and Himself to fight.   

151.  
The Sacred Bible they no sooner saw,  
But in foul indignation they cried,  
Behold these Galileans lawless Law,  
Which doth all other Statutes break beside  
Whether of Caesar or of Jove: but We  
Will try if this may now not broken be,   

152.  
With that, they in a thousand pieces tored:  
Then on Devotions Prop, the Liturgy,  
They made their equally malicious sport,  
Crying, these are those leaves of Witchery,  
That Bulk of Conjurations and Charms.  
Which have occasioned the whole World's Harms   

153.  
Next, all the Altars reverend Furniture  
They snatched, and scrambled who should rifle most:  
The sacerdotal Vestments, white and pure,  
About the room at first in scorn they tossed,  
Then with new Insolence put them on themselves;  
So in meek Lambskins walk the murdering Wolves.   

154.  
Upon the Chalice when they had espied  
The Shepherd bringing home the strayed Sheep,  
Like roaring Hellhounds with one voice they cried,  
Look how these Christians set their God to keep  
Their Wine: but fools they should have hired a friend?  
Which might his Godship from our hands defend.   

155.  
Is not our Pan more like a God than this!  
Pan, who doth all the Tribe of Shepherds keep,  
Whilst this poor servile Thing contented is  
To spend his time on silly rotten Sheep;  
But since He's here of Silver, in our need  
His Deity may stand Us in some stead.   

156.  
When in these Contumelies they their fill  
Had wantonized; one a dead Dog brings,  
Which, having stopped his Nose, (for the rank 〈◊〉  
Revenged his Crimt,) He on the Altar 〈◊〉,  
And with blasphemous supphcation cries,  
Accept o Christ, my bounden Sacrifice   

157.  
Then, said Another, We must not forget  
Humbly to tender our Drink-offring too  
With that, upon the Altar thrice he spit,  
And having filled a putrified shoe  
With his vile Urine, on his bended Knee  
He poured out his foul Impiety.   

158.  
But then a third, to make their sin complete,  
Yelling and railing, ser the Place on Fire;  
For since, said he, this Josusis so great  
A God, his Deity may well require  
An 〈◊〉: which Word, and Act, the Rout  
Applauded with an universal Shout.   

159.  
No more, Uranius 〈◊〉; dear Friend for bear,  
Till We have poured out our due Tears for this,  
That 〈◊〉 and his Temple wronged are,  
Our 〈◊〉 and ours alone, the reason is.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of his Commandments is the Gap  
Which let into his house this foul Mishap.   

160.  
This said; the Reins unto loud Lamentation  
Both He and Psyche liberaly gave.  
When lo a strong and mixed Vociferation  
Conquered their Cries, and triumphed in the Cave:  
They thought some Huntsmen were abroad, and so  
It proved: for hunting they for Men did go.   

161.  
It was that Rout, who when thy missed the Priest  
At his own house, concluded he was fled,  
And in the Desert sought some private Nest  
Wherein to hide his Persecuted Head:  
But They all bent and sworn to hunt him out  
A Pack of Bloodhounds with them thither brought.   

162.  
As up and down they traced the Solitude,  
A busy Cur unto the Cave drew near;  
Who having found the wished Sent, pursued  
It close, and entered where those Weepers were  
Whom spying, wide He opened, and hold,  
Till he to all the Rabble Tales had told.   

163.  
This brought them 〈◊〉 thither; where when they  
Beheld Uranius, with a barbarous Cry  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Voice and Hands, to pull Dismay  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 their Prisoner; whom forthwith they tie  
Unto 〈◊〉 Hound which found him out, that he  
Night 〈◊〉 contempable Conductor be   

164.  
The holy Captive knew it was in vain  
To ask their Madness why it used Him so;  
Or what Offence of his had earned that Chain:  
But in meek Silence ready was to go.  
Thus harmless Lambs are in their Sufferings mute,  
And never with the Butcher's Knife dispute.   

165.  
As Psyche at his Back lamenting stood,  
One who pretended to have something still  
Of Man and Kindness, bade her stop that flood  
Which poor seduced she amiss did spill,  
And weep no more to see Him Prisoner, who  
Had by Enchantments her enslaved so,   

166.  
For this your lurking, and your wailing here,  
Tell Us he hath bewitched you to his  
Ridiculous Religion; yet were  
That only such, said He, we would not press  
The Law against Him; but the whole World knows  
That with the worst of Wickedness if flows.   

167.  
Him, the Ringleader of the Crime will We  
To Justice sacrifice: but as for you,  
Whose Gild, we hope, is but Simplicity,  
To your less fault we pardon will allow:  
And to your silly Servant here, if He  
Henceforth will do his best, more Wise to be.   

168.  
Psyche with silent and with sad Disdain  
Threw back his Courtesy into his face.  
For though her heart at present did refrain  
To speak itself, yet she resolved was;  
Resolved not to leave her Friend that day,  
Though Death and Devils did obstruct her way,   

169.  
And now the raging caitiffs drew the Priest  
Unto the Town with shameless Exclamations;  
And all the way his Patience oppressed  
With Kicks, and 〈◊〉, and Taunts, and 〈◊〉,  
Which sad Procession 〈◊〉 was  
By the Tribunal, where the Saint they place,   

170.  
A Deputy of Perjecution there  
Was ready on the Bench, and standing 〈◊〉  
A fan and new erected 〈◊〉 where  
Prepaied Coals of fire did glowing 〈◊〉,  
Near which stood one with 〈◊〉 in his Hand  
To wait upon the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,   

171.  
Uranius thus presented at the Bar;  
The 〈◊〉 begins an insolent Oration,  
In which 〈◊〉 taken had sufficient care  
To blast and to blaspheme the Christian Nation,  
Unto whose chage He boldly laid all  
The Miseries which did that Age befall.   

172.  
Nor those alone, (which his Queen's Declaration  
Prompted Him with,) but all that Calumny  
〈◊〉 possibly invent; the Combination  
Of bloody and unclean Impiety  
Which made the Gnostics Name so horrid, He  
Avowed the Christian Discipline to be   

173.  
His Pagan Gods He praised to the skies,  
(A place which they, alas, could never reach,)  
But heaped on Christ all slanderous Injuries  
Which Envy could suggest, or Hell could teach.  
And at each Period the People's Roar  
Poured proud Applause upon their Orator.   

174.  
But in the Close He gravely turned his Speech  
With cruel Pity to Uranius,  
Whom by his reverend Age He did beseech  
No longer to be fooled and cheated thus  
By silly Wickedness, but choose their odds,  
And take for One, a multitude of Gods.   

175.  
He straight Him conjured to prefer  
The Deities the whole World did adore,  
Before the single simple Carpenter  
Who found no worship but amongst a poor  
Few sneaking and despised Souls, which He  
(Vain God) could not protect from Misery.   

176.  
And if He now refused to present  
Incense to Jove, upon that Altar there,  
He theatned him the utmost Punishment  
Which mocked and scorned Mercy could prepare.  
This said: He shrunk his fawning face into  
A frown, and waited what the Priest would do.   

177.  
But He, right brave defiance did return  
Upon the Judge for this his treacherous Love:  
And, sooner I, said He, myself will burn,  
Then Incense to an Idol: Could you prove  
Your favour would not surely me destroy,  
I it would hug with humble Thanks and Joy.   

178.  
But Sir, I am not now to learn, that they  
On whom you thrust the Name of Deities,  
Are weaker far than We poor things of Clay;  
And that the Carpenter you so despise,  
Is He who framed both you and me, and all  
The Fabric of this universal Ball.   

179.  
And His revenging Arm it is which now  
Lasheth the World with those Calamities  
Which to the charge of our Religion you  
So freely lay: your own Idolatries  
Force Him to Justice, who had rather be  
Known unto all his World by Lenity.   

180.  
If he thinks fit to rescue Me, it is  
Not all your Power, or your Queens, can stand  
Against his Might. Yet though I must by His,  
Permitted be to your tyrannic Hand,  
His Pleasure dearer is than life to Me:  
I durst Die, but dare not Apostate be.   

181.  
No Sea repulsed by a solid Rock  
E'er swelled, and foamed, and roared, with more disdain;  
Than now the Judge to hear the Prisoner mock  
His Gods and Him: His throat he wide did strain,  
And cried, then let Him Burn; since He denies  
To offer, make Him be, Jove's Sacrifice.   

182.  
The Soldiers who where much afraid lest He  
Should have accepted of the Judge's Grace,  
Rejoiced and clapped their cursed Hands to see  
That to their rage he now condemned was.  
Away they hale him to the stake, and there  
A Fort of Faggots round about him rear.   

183.  
Then, with a Brand, they from Jove's Altar brought,  
The Pile they kindle, and blow up the flame:  
Which as it rose, they bellowed out a Shout,  
And cried, May this Reward betid all them  
Who scorn the Gods, and fond trust in Him  
Who from the Cross could not himself redeem.   

184.  
But mild Vranius, having kissed the stake,  
And every Faggot which his Lips could reach;  
Strong supplications unto Heaven did make  
For pardon for his raging Murderers, which  
Blinded with spite, and Superstition,  
Perceived not at all what they had done.   

185.  
Then purer than the Flame, and brighter far  
Which mounted from his Pile, his Soul did fly:  
Higher than that it flew, and reached the Sphere  
Not of the Stars, but of Felicity;  
Where it was welcomed to its final Home  
By the illustrious Crown of Martyrdom.   

186.  
So when brave Gold hath by the Cruelty  
Of the incensed Furnace been refined;  
It's genuine Substance is allowed to be  
With the Imperial Image fairly signed:  
Free leave and full authority it has  
Current through all its Sovereign's Realm to pass.   

187.  
Psyche, who with sweet Tenderness attended  
〈◊〉 is holy Tragick-Comedie,  
No 〈◊〉 saw how gloriously it ended;  
But, 〈◊〉 with her pious Plaudit, she  
Forgetful of the furious Standards by,  
Thus eased her Souls exultant Ecstasy,   

188.  
Go valiant Saint, thy Conquest is complete;  
Go, where immortal Laurel ready is  
With endless Triumphs thy brave Head to meet;  
Go and possess thy Master's Realm of Bliss:  
Thy Name and Fame shall reverend be beneath  
So long as Piety on earth shall breathe.   

189.  
O may poor Psyche but obtain the Grace,  
Though at the price of all the World's worst spite,  
To kiss thy glorious Feet, and win a place  
Where on thy Triumph I may wait: O might  
I through thy hottest Flames climb after Thee,  
And from this mortal Dross refined be.   

190.  
This pious Passion well beseemed Her,  
And made good Music in all holy Ears:  
But like flat Discord it did grate and jar  
Upon the Soldiers, whose most studious Cares  
Were how to tune their Curses to a Key  
Of wild impetuous Importunity.   

191.  
And how intolerable unto Them  
Was this her Note, they make her fully feel,  
For running on her in a surious Stream,  
With headlong haste they hurry her until  
They come unto the Judge, in Hopes that He  
Their bloody Hunger's Caterer would be.   

192.  
Here they exclaim that this bold Woman was  
As manly as the Priest in wickedness;  
That she nor feared nor blushed to make his Case  
heavens Quarrel, and his cursed Death to bless:  
That she must needs as guilty be as He  
Of Sins Perfection, Christianity.   

193.  
Yea of the worst and foulest Part of it;  
Witness the Sheltre of the Night, and Cave  
In which they took them napping: which could fit  
None but Lust's filthy Work. And now you have  
Just Sir, said they, arraigned here before  
Your Judgement Seat, a Christian and a Whore,   

194.  
But she, commanded by the Judge to make  
Her own Apology, (which best, said he  
Will be evinced, if you that 〈◊〉 take,  
And by your Offering, choke all Calumny;)  
With elevated Eyes thanked Heaven for this  
Occasion to aspire unto her Bliss.   

195.  
Then spreading all her face with gallant Joy,  
Like a brave Champion ready for the fight,  
Or like a Bride dressed on her wedding Day,  
Or silver Venus smiling in the Night,  
Or brisk Aurora garnishing the Morn,  
Or goodly Ceres' golden in her Corn,   

196.  
Or rather like that glorious Deacon who  
First opened the ruby Gate of Martyrdom,  
Whom sweet and princely Beams embellished so  
That Heaven itself aforehand seemed to come  
And pitch upon his Face, which to his Foes  
An Angel's Countenance did in Man's disclose,   

197.  
She thus began: No Confutation, I,  
But Thanks alone to my Accusers owe,  
Who charge on Me no vulgar Piety,  
But rank me with Vranius, and allow  
That simple I deserve no less than he  
With Martyrdoms fair Crown adorned to be,   

198.  
Only I must take leave to tell my Foes,  
Their Spite in one thing much mistaketh Me;  
For if I freedom had my Flames to choose,  
I rather would for ever scorched be  
With all Hell's burning Sulphur, than give way  
That Lnsts black Fire should make my hearts its 〈◊〉   

199.  
But how have I demeaned myself, that You  
Wise Sir, should think this wretched Life to Me  
Can be more precious, than the Faith I owe  
To Him, who can from Death's Captivity  
Redeem his Subjects; and a Course will take  
Uranius from his Ashes how to rake.   

200.  
If e'er this Tongue of mine was known to spill  
The least Consent or seeming Approbation  
Of You or of your Gods, (which sure my Will  
Was never privy to,) this Detestation  
May wipe it off, and make my Gild proceed  
As high as my Accusers it did plead.   

201.  
Jove is no more, nay not so much, to Me,  
As you, or as the meanest Wight that lives:  
He to your Fancies owes his Deity,  
And from your Superstition receives  
His livelihood: and therefore well may you  
Be bold with him, and what you please allow.   

202.  
Sometimes a Bull must serve, sometimes a Swan,  
For King of God's Men; sometimes a shower  
Of Gold, and when you kindest are, a Man;  
But such a Man, as waste's his' Godships Power  
In Lust and Luxury, that prudent Ye  
May by your God's Example wicked be.   

203.  
And must I offer Incense to perfume  
His Name, the Name of Filth and Stinks? must I  
Tempted by such a wretched Bait, presume  
On Jesu's pure and mighty Majesty?  
No: Him indeed I fear, but dread not you,  
Which with my Life I ready am to show.   

204.  
Were I as foul as are your Thoughts of Me,  
Were I the worst of horrid Things, a Whore;  
I see not why your goodly Piety  
Should not convince you forthwith to adore  
My wickedness, and Me, unless you will  
Deny your Venus is a Goddess still.   

205.  
What Perfica, Pertunda, Mutunns,  
What Cyprian Rites, what Ithyphallies, mean,  
What sacred sport old Baubo's glorious  
Invention made to cheer up Harvests Queen,  
You, and your Temples know: but pardon Me,  
If I blush to declare such Villainy.   

206.  
No: it shall never slain this Tongue of mine,  
This Tongue which doth its utmost homage owe  
To Jesu's Name; that Name of most divine  
Unspotted Sweetness. Doubt not Sir; although  
I am a feeble Female, His dear Sake  
My Resolution Masculine can make.   

207.  
The Judge, stung by this valiant Reply,  
And highly scorning to acknowledge in  
A Woman such heroic Constancy,  
With envious Cunning cried, Now I have seen  
More than enough to quit Fame from a lie,  
Which charged such Charms on Christianity.   

208.  
If ever silly Soul enchanted were  
With fawning undermining Witchery;  
This obstinate and reckless Woman here  
Is captive to that cursed Impiety,  
Being so monstrously Transformed, that to  
The Gods, and to herself, she's open Foe.   

209.  
But we must not be fierce, 'cause she is Mad:  
Perhaps this Spell is of short date, and she  
Tamed by a Prisons Hardship, may be glad  
To turn into herself again, and be  
Content (which may the Gods vouchsafe to grant!)  
Her Blasphemy and Boldness to recant.   

210.  
Great Jove, who heard when she did him 〈◊〉,  
Forbore to fling his Lightning at her head;  
And by that sweet and heavenly Lenity,  
Of Patience to Us a Lecture read.  
To Prison with her, and instruct her there  
By Chains, to quit these Bands which captive her,   

211.  
Laden with Irons, but much more with Scorn,  
Poor Psyche thus unto the Goal is led:  
There in a Dungeon dark, deep, and forlorn,  
That she might double be imprisoned,  
She plunged was; where, as she began to sink  
Into the nasty Mire, she waked the Stink.   

212.  
A Stink which would have scorned what Arabia  
And all its Odours could against it do;  
An aged Stink which did a mellowing lie  
In that foul Grot; for it was long ago  
Since any Thing disquieted the Heap  
Of poisonous loathsomeness which there did sleep   

213.  
Fast in this torment stuck, afflicted she  
No succour could receive from any friend;  
The Jailer barred out all their Piety  
Who willing were some help to her to lend;  
And only once a day her furnished  
With puddle Water, and course mouldy Bread,   

214.  
Yet harder than this Diet, was the Grace  
He said to it: Repent unhappy Wretch,  
Repent he cried: Why should this woeful Place  
Be dearer to thee than the favour which  
The 〈◊〉 Judge doth offer thee, if thou,  
With Him, and our great Queen, to Jove wilt bow.   

215.  
This cursed Preachment grated sore upon  
The Bowels of her tender Heart, who in  
This 〈◊〉 Leisure set her thoughts to run  
Over the Ages most unhappy Sin,  
Which now with zealous superstition rung  
From her destructive Keepers pitying tongue.   

216.  
No Member e'er with such soft Sympathy  
The wounds of its fraternal Part did feel;  
As She that most contagious Malady  
Which now had tainted Albion's Common-weal,  
And, like the Plague indeed, into the Heart  
It's desperate Poison did directly dart.   

217.  
Inestimable Souls, (for such the Price  
Which Jesus paid, proved them to be)  
Their own illustrious value did despise,  
Selling themselves to poor Idolatry,  
And at no higher Rate then to escape  
Some worldly shame, and temporal mishap.   

218.  
Their dear Redeemers most transcendent Love  
They kicked and scorned, and his Heaven with it;  
And gave their service to ignoble Jove,  
Although no Guerdon, but the lowest Pit  
Of everflaming Torments did attend them,  
Where even that Jove himself no help could lend them.   

219.  
This stung her Soul so deep, that she could give  
Her life ten thousand times to death, if she  
Might at that cost be able to reprieve  
Her Friends and Foes, from this mad Misery.  
But 〈◊〉 this unfeasible, the sight  
Redoubled her compassionate sorrows weight.   

220.  
This fair advantage envious Satan took  
To work upon her rocky Constancy:  
Trusting at length that He should her provoke  
To kiss the Judge's offered Courtesy:  
He hoped that Desolation, galled by Grief,  
Would stoop at length, and not disdain 〈◊〉.   

221.  
And yet her Charitable Meditation  
Highly displeased Him: wherefore crafty He  
Resolved perforce to knit her Contemplation  
Close to her own new 〈◊〉 Calamity:  
For all her Body He with flames did fill,  
Which into burning Perls and Boils did swell.   

222.  
Her skin which was so white and sleek before,  
All rugged now with odious tumours is:  
From head to foot one universal sore  
Arrays her round in a tormenting dress:  
Thus the renowned Prince of Uz, of old  
Wore this sad raiment, for his Robes of Gold.   

223.  
Yet on dry Ashes He had leave to sit,  
And with a Potsherd scrape his scurfie skin,  
A comfort which poor Psyche could not get,  
Being a weak and helpless Captive in  
The thick relentless Mire, where she is fain  
To rub her torturing swellings with her Chain.   

224.  
And yet these Torments less tormenting were  
Than those which now her Parents treacherous Love  
Heaped on her wounded Soul: The Judge's ear,  
And then his leave, they got, to come and prove  
What their Persuasions with their Child could do,  
And cunningly they did their business too.   

225.  
Upon the Dungeons brink their Lamentation  
They poured first, and then this charming cry:  
Psyche, o Psyche, if thy Tribulation  
Be yet too weak to make thee bow to thy  
Own rest and quiet; let thy Parent's 〈◊〉  
At least, by thy consent, obtain Relief,   

226.  
The staff of our decrepit years art Thou  
Alone, dear daughter; all our joys in thee  
Are fresh and young: O do not rob Us now  
Of that by which we live, thy liberty:  
Thy liberty, which we would rather choose  
By any Hand, than by thine own to lose.   

227.  
The Judge would yield thee back to Us again:  
And wilt Thou cruel be, when He is Kind?  
By thee have We deserved to be slain,  
Who from all others Love and Pity find?  
Though thine own Life thou strangely scornest, yet  
Abhor not ours to whom thou owest it.   

228.  
Surely thy Christ, if He as Gentle be  
As thou didst vaunt Him for, will never give  
Thee thanks for this unnatural Piety  
Which both thine own, and Parents Lives doth strive  
To undermine: O no! His Grace We know,  
And honour His Compassion more than you.   

229.  
Our Faith in His abundant Mercy makes  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be blown away, Comply.  
His 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all Hearts its Prospect takes,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ours pant still with loyalty  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and his dear Laws: and therefore He  
Propitious to our Outside fault will be.   

230.  
And so, sweet Daughter will He be to thine:  
O then accept of what thou 〈◊〉 to Crave;  
Enjoy the courteous Sun 〈◊〉 it doth shine,  
And let this Dungeon not forestall thy grave:  
Speak, speak; and bid Us live with thee; or by  
Thy wilful silence, send Us home to die.   

231.  
So pleaded they. But Psyche with a Groan  
Fetched deeper than the bottom of her Grot,  
First vanquished their Lamentation;  
Then, with this most athletic Answer, what  
Artillery their crafty tongues had brought  
From Piety's strong hold to force her out:   

232.  
I now no longer can the Jailer blame  
Who tempted me my Liberty to gain  
By being slave to Jove's accursed Name,  
And scorning him who on heavens Throne doth reign:  
Why should I look that Pagan He should be  
Kinder than you my Parents are to Me?   

233.  
My Christian Parents; if you yet dare own  
That holy title, who invite me now  
To kick at Christ. Alas that I am grown  
So execrable in your Eyes, that you  
[As if this Dungeon were not deep enough,]  
Into Hell's bottom Me should strive to throw.   

234.  
The sacred Law of Filial Duty I  
Hold dearer than this World; for well I know  
(Nor shall all Torments force me to deny  
This truth.) that unto you my Life I owe;  
Which in your service if I eat or fear  
To spend, may I prove an Idolater.   

235.  
But that's the Life by which I Prisoner am  
In this unworthy World; A Life I have  
Which truer is unto its active Name,  
A Life to high and precious, that to save  
It from the Jaws of endless Death, his own  
The King of Heaven thought not much to lay down   

236.  
That Life I mean, by which my Soul doth live;  
A Life which from your Loins I never drew;  
And therefore you do but yourselves deceive  
To think that this is to your Pleasures due.  
God is my only Father here, and I  
Entire to Him must keep my loyalty.   

237.  
As fast as in this Mire I stick, the way  
Of His Commands I now am running; and  
Though you your Prayers, or your Necks should lay  
Full in my path my passage to withstand,  
I would not hear my mortal duty plead,  
But on your Necks and Prayers freely tread.   

238.  
Yet Heaven forbid I should be forced to take  
This hard experiment of Piety.  
O rather help to lead me to the stake,  
And of my Combat there Spectators be:  
You'll ne re repent you to have seen your own  
Child climbing up to Martyrdoms fair Crown   

239.  
But since you know so well the vast extent  
Of Jesus Mercy; know it not in vain:  
Your own decrepit years bid you repent  
With speediest speed: The foul and cankering stain  
Of your Idolatrous Compliance dares  
The utmost Power of your fullest Tears.   

240.  
Misspend not then those precious Beads on Me,  
Yourselves need all their Ornament: and I  
This only favour crave, that you would be  
But so courageous as yet to rely  
On heavens Protection: Speak, o speak, and ease  
My throbbing hearts tormenting Jealousies.   

241.  
I burn, I burn in Anguish, till I hear  
You by a brave Profession defy  
Those Baits of secular ignoble fear  
Which lured you to your Apostasy.  
Speak then, and make my Life be sweet, in spite  
Of all these Tortures which against it fight.   

242.  
So pious She. But feeble-hearted They,  
Leaving no Answer but a faithless Sigh  
Their Griefs and Fears to witness, went their way,  
Confounded by their Daughter's Constancy.  
Yet by this foul Retreat They gave her more  
Soule-piercing Wounds, than They had done before.   

243.  
For now her ominous Meditations threw  
Her down into that Gulf of flaming Pain,  
Which to Apostate Wickedness was due;  
Where every Torment, every Rack and Chain  
To which her Parents seemed now to go,  
Poured on her tender Heart a Sea of Woe.   

244.  
But as She struggled to maintain this fight  
Of mighty Charity, She 'gan to faint.  
When lo a sudden unexpected Light  
(A Thing with which that Grot did ne'er acquaint,)  
The Place, and Her, with Glory did surprise,  
Offering a radiant Stranger to her Eyes.   

245.  
For at her right Hand She beheld a Maid  
On whose fair Head a diamond Crown did shine;  
With gentle Majesty She was arrayed,  
And all her Ornaments appeared divine:  
Psyche amazed at the heavenly Sight,  
Would fain have kneeled to do the Virgin right.   

246.  
But as her Soreness, Mire, and Chains forbade  
That reverence, She feteed a modest Sigh:  
To which the Stranger this mild Answer made:  
I see thy Mind in thy ingenious Eye;  
Thy Courtesy by thy Desire is done,  
And now my ear'nd Requital must comeon.   

247.  
This said, She hugged her with a straight Embrace;  
Softrait, that closer than her Chains or Mire  
It stuck, and deeplyer 〈◊〉 was  
Than her Disease, through which it did 〈◊〉  
Into her Heart, and 〈◊〉 it up so close  
That now no Anguish there could interpose.   

248.  
As He who is some wagered Race to run,  
Having his Loins girt up, and being so  
Collected and tied to Himself 〈◊〉,  
With lighter stouter Nimbleness doth go,  
Than when his waste He lose about him ware,  
And there for 〈◊〉 had room to 〈◊〉;   

249.  
Embraced Psyche thus perceived her 〈◊〉  
Laceed straight, and shrunk into Collections 〈◊〉 〈◊〉;  
As first She wondered her 〈◊〉 Guest  
So much should press her 〈◊〉 but it 〈◊〉,  
As that fresh Vigour glowed in her 〈◊〉,  
She knew She only 〈◊〉 out her Smart.   

250.  
And now such Courage in her Soul did reign,  
That She rejoiced She had so hard a Race:  
Her gauntlet She dares give to any Pain,  
And the most tedious Death look in the face;  
Her Chains to her no more than Bracelets are  
Her boiling Sores as Pearls indeed appear.   

251.  
Her Parent's Case She to heavens Sovereign Wil't  
Can freely now resign; that Will which though  
It bitter seem to worldly Tastes, yet still  
Doth unto uncorrupted Palates flow  
With all the Soul of Sweetness, and can make  
From springs of Galla flood of Honey break.   

252.  
She seems as yet not to have gained her share  
Of Pangs and Sufferings, and fears not to pray  
That He Who did such Strength for her prepare,  
Would still more load upon her Shoulders lay;  
More fuel still unto her tervour give,  
Who now by nothing but by Pains could live.   

253.  
Nor was it wonder; for the Stranger here,  
(Thenceforth a Stranger unto her no more)  
Was sent from Heaven a special 〈◊〉  
To heal her Heart, beginning to be sore  
With her Weak Body: Willingly She 〈◊〉  
And did her Work, for 〈◊〉 was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

254.  
The Eyes of Lambs ne'er darred meeker Rays  
Than streamed from hers; and yet the Lion's face  
With stouter Bravery did never raise  
His royal Looks, nor with more Courage gaze  
Upon, and challenge Terrors, than does She,  
Though soft as honey, or as Oil She be.   

255.  
All over she was nothing else but scars  
Wnt large and fair to testify what she  
Had undergone in heavens victorious Wars;  
And yet these Characters her beauty be;  
For with such silver light they smile, that they  
Much like a Tire of Stars do her array   

256.  
Her business being thus dispatched, she  
The cheered reso'ved Prisoner leaves: when lo  
The Judge's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to see  
If Psyche yet were fully 〈◊〉 or no:  
And standing at the 〈◊〉 mouth, he cries,  
Learn wretched Maid, at length learn to be wise.   

257.  
The Judge, upon whose Will thy Fate depends,  
In spite of thy 〈◊〉 tender is;  
And me on Mercies Errand hither sends  
To offer to thee at an easy price  
Thy Life and Liberty; and more than so,  
If thou thy Irreligion wilt forgo.   

258.  
His noble Word, more sure than Bond or Seal,  
He freely gives to change thy Poverty  
Into a wealthy State; not shalt thou feel  
Henceforth what scorns and ignominies be;  
But living in soft Peace and Psenteousnesse  
His Favour, and the Worlds esteem possess   

259.  
But if you obstinately yet deny  
To offer incense unto mighty Jove,  
You damn the way unto all Clemency,  
And a deserved Sacrifice must prove  
To your own Madness: the Decree is past,  
You must Vraniu's fate to morrow taste.   

260.  
As when the tossed Mariner descries  
The Promontories of his native Soil,  
Within whose craggy Hornis his Harbour lies;  
He straight forgets his long Tempestuous toil,  
And doth his new-revived Bosom find  
Swelled more with Joy, than are his sails with wind,   

261.  
So Psyche, hearing that her Doom was past  
Which to her long-wish t Haven would her convey;  
Her arms in triumph up to Heaven she cast,  
With thanks and praises for that happy Day;  
And in defiance of his offered grace,  
Threw this stout answer at the Sergeant's face:   

262.  
My thanks unto the Judge go carry back:  
High is his favour, and 〈◊〉 embrace:  
But sure your 〈◊〉 you did much mistake,  
Or foully at the least, your Words misplace:  
My Life and Liberty no favour is;  
Death I accept with humble 〈◊〉.   

263.  
As for your vain and wretched Jupiter  
Were He but half so true a thing as you,  
〈◊〉 respect would unto Him defer;  
But unto Nothing what can I allow  
But what it is? and though your Incense be  
But Smoke, 'tis more substantial than He   

264.  
Deceive your foolish selves no longer, 〈◊〉  
Am not enchantea, but all you are so:  
What 〈◊〉 should make you dream I fear to die,  
Who through Death's door shall to Life's Palace go?  
A way, and pray your Master, it He be  
An honest Man, to keep his Word with Me.   

265.  
This Answer, (which the Bearer fully did,)  
Enraged the Judge to make his the eatuing good:  
But all in vain his wrath he marsh alled;  
heavens mild, against his bloody Purpose stood;  
Nor had fierce Belzebub who set Him on,  
Power to step further than he now had gone,   

266.  
Mean while such Joy in Psyche's bosom glow 〈◊〉  
Through expectation of the fire and stake,  
That all her Pains and Torments to it bowed,  
And in sweet quiet she that Night did break  
Her redious Vigils and permitted sleep  
With its soft feet upon her eyes to creep.   

267.  
But Phylax, who had all this while withdrew,  
(For Heaven so ordered it,) now gainted leave  
His presence to his precious Charge to show,  
And from the Tyrant's rury her reprieve:  
Down to the Dungeon he as gladly 〈◊〉  
As ever he had towered to the Skies.   

268.  
Where finding her not only Prisoner to  
Her it on Chains, but in sleeps silken Bands  
Tied as fast; He 〈◊〉 his Work to do  
Whilst she was yet at rest: His potent Hands  
Upon her burning sores he gently laid,  
Which quenched straight, as of his touch afraid.   

269.  
Her scursie Rough-cast scaled off, and all  
Her Skin to fresh and tender Smoothness left:  
So when of old the Syrian General  
In Jordan did exchange his leprous shift,  
His Flesh appeared as soft and pure, as were  
The Virgin Streams which smiled and sported there.   

270.  
With like Facility he did but touch  
The massy Chains which heavy on her lay.  
And none of all their brazen Locks did grudge  
To that strange virtual Key straight to give way,  
But down they tumbled, clashing as they fell,  
Which Noise to Psyche did their ruin tell.   

271.  
She startled up, and sought to understand  
What that Sound ment, in hopes it had been Day,  
And that the hasty Judge had sent Command  
Unto the Stake to hurry her away,  
That hungry He might other Charges save,  
And Her for's Breakfast ready roasted have.   

272.  
When lo, herself in Phylax's Arms she found  
Chained by a soft and delicate Embrace;  
Her other Gives she saw upon the ground,  
Confuted all and shattered: But she was  
Amazed most, to find she had no Sore  
To rub, for knawing her, as heretofore.   

273.  
But then, My Dear, said Phylax, We have now  
No time to stay and look, but must away.  
Three times she shaked her head, & rubbed her Brow;  
But when she saw these wondrous Sights would stay,  
She yielded, fully to attend the Dream;  
For unto her it nothing else did seem.   

274.  
Up from the Dungeon the Angel flew,  
Proud of the Prize which in his Arms he bore.  
The Bolts and Locks fled from his radiant View,  
So did the Prisons seau'nfold Brazen Door,  
Yet durst not make the least Complaint, or bear  
By any Noise, tales to the Jailers e'er.   

275.  
Thus through the Town unseen unheard He passed,  
〈◊〉 his Pupil in an unknown Way:  
Great was his Care of Her, and great his Haste  
〈◊〉 He had brought her into Safeties Bay;  
This was a Place which in the Desert He  
For her immured had with Privacy.   

276.  
A Place removed far beyond the Sent  
Of any Bloodhound, whither Man or Beast;  
A Place well furnished with sweet Content,  
And all Conveniences ready dressed:  
Where, having brought her in, No more mistake  
Thy Bliss, He cried, but know Thou art awake.   

277.  
Thy Spouse is pleased with this Experiment,  
And doth accept thy faithful Patience:  
To free Thee from thy Chains and 〈◊〉, he sent  
Me hither, and from all that Violence  
The furious Tyrant hath prepar d to day  
Upon thine undeserving Head to lay.   

278.  
Psyche appalled at this unlooked for Word  
And well perceiving that she heard and saw;  
Was with such hearty Indignation stirred  
Against her Guardian; that had not the Law  
Of virtuous Modesty dwelled in her Tongue,  
Full in his Face Defiance she had flung.   

279.  
And yet thus far she ventured to ease  
Her belching Heart: O Phylax, how art Thou  
Known hitherto to Me by Courtesies,  
Into mine Enemy transformed now?  
How art Thou made more Tyrant unto Me,  
Than He from whom thou now hast set Me free?   

280.  
I by His Help, this Morning should have seen  
That Day which from my Spouse's Eyes doth rise;  
Nor had I any longer troubled been  
Upward to look, when I would read the Skies:  
O no! Uranius now looks down when He  
The region of the Sun and Stars would see.   

281.  
What is this Life of Banishment, to Me,  
Who have no settled Home but that above?  
What boots it that my Chains and Malady  
Are shaken off, if Psyche still must prove  
A Prisoner to this heavy Flesh and Bone,  
Which more torments me than they could have done?   

282.  
Are the fair Palms, and ever-radiant Crown  
Of Martyrdom, so poor and vile a prize;  
Are Heaven and Jesu's Company now grown  
Things so indifferent, that my longing Eyes  
Should spare their Tears, when I am snatched away  
From them, and forced on for did Earth to stay:   

283.  
O Phylax Thou hast not repreived Me  
From any of my Pains: I'm at the Stake,  
I burn, I burn; nor will my Agony  
But by my final Dissolution slake.  
She fainted here— But Phylax took her up,  
And hasted thus her Sorrows Tide to stop.   

284.  
Courage, my Dear, and be assured I  
Have not deceived thee of try Noble Aim:  
Thy Spouse designs a Martyrdom whereby  
To draw thee to himself, but not the same  
By which he snatched 〈◊〉: no; for thee  
He treasured hath a braven 〈◊〉   

285.  
〈◊〉 long, more strong, and 〈◊〉 Pain  
〈…〉 be, than from the Spite  
Of this, though 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈…〉  
Thou 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 Fight  
Then 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 fought; and this shall be,  
The Theatre of thy mighty 〈◊〉   

286.  
Here in this very Place shalt thou maintain  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Combat, whilst thy Spouse and all  
His 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 on his royal Train  
Will be Spectators: O do not forestall  
Thy greater Fame by hasty Zeal, but stay  
With patience for thy Coronation Day.   

287.  
This ample Answer such Refreshment blew  
On Psyche s Heats, that meek and pliant she  
Cooled her importunate Desires, and grew  
Content to wait the full Maturity  
Of her affected laurel, though as yet  
She little knew how she must Gather 〈◊〉    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XIX. The Dereliction,  
ARGUMENT.  

PSyche abandoned to the Solitude  
Of Soul and Body, by the resolute Might  
Of patient loyal Constancy, subdued  
Hell's Champion Dispair, in single fight.  
Yet in her Conquest no free Joy could have,  
Because she still was Derelictions Slave.   

1.  
HOw grim, how cold, how comfortless soe'er  
Thou lookst, dear Solitude; sure in thy breast  
Some worthy Sweets thou dost 〈◊〉 bear;  
Witness that Vileness, and that high Request  
By which betwixt the lazy earthly heart,  
And Pious Soul thou so divided art.   

2.  
He who when e'er his Conscience him doth take  
Alone, it 〈◊〉 full on his guilty face;  
A large Indictment doth against thee make,  
And on thee pours the bottom of Disgrace,  
Calling thee Mother of vexatious Folly,  
Of Horrors and dispaning Melancholy   

3.  
He no where but among his roaring Boys  
Can meet a choir whose Music suits his Ear,  
Whilst in the tumult of that boisterous noise  
He drowns those thoughts which would his bosom tear;  
And in the throng of Sinners cannot find  
Free room to take a view of his own Mind.   

4.  
And thus, unhappy Man, he only lives  
In his outside, and therefore liveth not:  
But when sure ' Death his woeful summons gives,  
Strangely amazed, and not knowing what  
To do or think, in vain for help he cries;  
And to himself a wretched stranger dies.   

5.  
He dies; and leaves that Body which would not  
Endure to be a little while alone,  
In the Graves tedious Solitude to rot;  
Whilst in the Tumult of Damnation  
His now uncloysterd Soul is forced to dwell  
Amongst the Roarers of eternal Hell.   

6.  
But he who dares his Bosom ransack, and  
Take a survey of every thing within,  
That he may always ready have at Hand  
An Inventary of himself, and win  
Time upon Death by prudent Preparation  
To entertain and kiss his Consummation;   

7.  
He who both Leisure and Desire can find  
To sequester Impertinences, that  
His proper business he may only mind,  
And by industrious Thrift mend his Estate.  
So that though naked he goes to his grave,  
An endless stock of riches he may have.   

8.  
He, He's the Man whom all the City's joys  
And proud excess; the Country's hearty sport;  
The Licence, endless Fashions, glittering Toys,  
And all the Pomp and Glories of the Court  
Cannot so far enchant, but sober he  
Can of plain Solitude enamoured be.   

9  
He there more store of Company can meet,  
And of more high and worthy quality,  
Than in the thickest Theatre doth sweat,  
Where Spectacles profess to court the Eye;  
Such Presses justle out all Heaven, but He  
Reads it at large in this Vacuity.   

10.  
An undisturbed view he here can take  
Of all its fairest and its loftiest stories;  
His Contemplation here can freely break  
Through all the Treasures of its boundless glories;  
And in the Court where Bliss and Pleasures reign  
With Saints and Angels brave Acquaintance gain.   

11.  
Here to the Universe's King can He  
His free attendance pay from Morn to Night,  
Whilst in the everlasting One and Three  
He learns both to Divide and to Unite  
His mystic Homage, as the Spirits Gale  
Makes him through this Abyss of Wonders sail.   

12.  
Here he doth always stand upon his Watch,  
That when the roaring Lion, who doth run  
About the World his careless Preys to catch,  
Hunteth that way, his Onset he may shun;  
Or with awakened and prepared Might  
Confront his Foe, and entertain the fight.   

13.  
Here from the sapless World's enchanting Breast  
Where nothing but the froth of Milk doth spring,  
Himself he weans; and studies how to feast  
Upon some masculine substantial thing,  
Which may not mock him with short false Content,  
But to his Soul yield solid Nutriment.   

14.  
No Humour of the Times, no Garbs or Fashions,  
Can here take up his Care; No boisterous News  
Of public Woes, or fatal Alterations,  
The Calm of this his Harbour can abuse  
No storms can rage but in the open seas;  
His private Bay the Cloister is of Ease.   

15.  
His righteous Soul is not afflicted here  
To See and Hear how wretched Worms defy  
Omnipotence's King, and scorn to fear  
The Jaws of Hell, to which their Villainy  
Makes them apparent Heirs; but take delight  
The Love and Blood of Jesus to despite.   

16.  
Here past the reach of those bewitching Darts  
Which flash with radiant Bane from wanton eyes,  
And make both timorous and martial hearts  
Yield to fantastic selfmade Wounds, He lies  
Secure and safe, and undisturbed may  
Prepare for his eternal Nuptial Day.   

17.  
Here leave and leisure he enjoys to weed  
And cultivate his Heart, in which he plants  
Each Herb of Grace, and sows the blessed Seed  
Of every Virtue which his bosom wants;  
In certain hopes his labours will conclude  
In a full Harvest of Beatitude.   

18.  
With prudent foresight here he doth provide  
An ample stock that he may ready be  
To bear all Charges which may Him betid  
In managing a public Life, if he  
Be called from his private Nest, and made  
Against the thronging stream of Sin to wade.   

19  
More furnished with strength of Argument  
From learned Athens never Student came,  
Though He his nimblest years and Spirits had spent  
The Engines of most active Wit to frame;  
Then doth this sagely-sprightfull Champion from  
His private School of public Virtue come.   

20.  
For having learned their due Scorn to throw  
Upon those Incerests and Baits which make  
The biased Hearts of Men unmanly grow,  
And cowardly Sins sneaking By paths take;  
In spite of all the World which dares say No,  
He in the King of heavens Highway will go   

21.  
Thus in all Sorts of high Advantage this  
Life of Retirement, doth the Garland wear;  
Which therefore only dear and precious is  
To Them who Sons of Heaven and Wisdom are:  
And which, insipid timorous Souls, as They  
Cannot believe, so never can enjoy.   

22.  
Psyche, who now conducted was into  
This solitary State, though fervent She  
Did in Uraniu's Steps desire to go,  
Yet since it might not on the sudden be,  
Appeased the flames of her Impatience by  
The streaming Comforts of her Privacy.   

23.  
If in the tumult of the World She still  
Had mingled been, the Crowd had surely slain her;  
For all Earth's furniture and friendlyest Skill  
Could not with any Solace entertain her:  
Her Heart already was in Heaven, and She  
Was best, where She could least behind it be.   

24.  
And that was here, where by no secular Care  
Or Interruption She molested was;  
But dwelling in a calmy Hemisphere,  
Upon free Meditations Wings could Pass  
Above the Moon and Sun, and Troops of fair  
Stars, which upon heavens Plains embatled are.   

25.  
But as at length She 'gan to pant again  
For that dear Day of final Conflict She  
By Phyla'x Promise hoped to obtain,  
And that alone; Lo, on the sudden He,  
Call d thence by other Business, takes his leave  
Yet telling her He would not her deceive.   

26.  
As She made haste to ask the reason; He  
Took Wing, and instantly outfled her Eye:  
A Sigh straight strove to follow Him, but She  
Repulsed it with noble Constancy,  
And cried, It must not, and it shall not grieve me;  
Did Heaven not call Him, Phylax would not leave me.   

27.  
Then down upon her humble Knees She fell,  
And casting up ward her most loyal Eyes,  
So long as Thou as truly here dost dwell  
Sweet Lord, said She, as in the highest skies,  
Though Phyla'x Wings now shelter not my head,  
Yet thine are always o'er thine Handmaid spread.   

28.  
Though precious is His Company to Me,  
Yet not so dear as is thy blessed Will;  
Though here alone a feeble Thing I be,  
I can and dare be more abandoned still,  
If mighty Thou, who never will't forsake Me,  
With nearer Losses pleased art to rack Me.   

29.  
Fain would I quit the Debt in which to Thee,  
And mine own Vows I stand; fain would I prove  
By combating with any Misery  
The Truth of my (how deep-obliged) love:  
Thou bid'st Us Follow with our Cross, and lo  
I in thy bloodyest Steps desire to go.   

30.  
I would not to a Figures Courtesy  
Beholden be in my Affliction, nor  
To such a tender Cross condemned be  
As must be helped by a Metaphor  
To make its hard Name good; for that I'm sure  
Was true and real which Thou didst endure.   

31.  
No golden Plenty do I crave of Thee,  
No soft Content, or silken Peace: Impart  
Those favours unto whom Thou wilt, for Me;  
Thy sharpest Blessings best will please my Heart:  
My heart, which burneth in profound desire  
Of some Heroic and consuming fire.   

32.  
O do not slay Me by denying Death!  
To suffer want of Sufferings, is to Me  
The only Dregs which from thy deepest Wrath  
Can squeazed be: from this one Misery  
Which is the Pith of all, I beg repreive:  
I die in torment if in ease I live.   

33.  
Jesus whose Ear is always open to them  
Who speak Love's Dialect, strait heard her Cry:  
Which made such welcome Music unto him  
That her Petition he could not deny:  
His sweetened Bitterness apace he sent,  
And blessed her with her begged Punishment.   

34.  
Charis, accustomed open House to keep  
In her free Heart, he there shut up so close  
That now no nimble glimmering Ray could peep  
Forth from that Nest of Light: Nor could she choose  
But be suspicious that the Spring was dried  
From whence no Emanations did glide.   

35.  
When lo, the Welkin, which before was clear,  
And flowed with the Sun's transparent Gold;  
Started from its fair Looks with sudden fear,  
And did in swarthy Beams itself enfold.  
Day was abashed to see how boldly Night  
Encroached upon her, and despised her Light.   

36.  
The Air presageing what outrageous Pain  
Would tear her tender weatherbeaten Sides,  
With hollow Groans and Mournings did complain  
Aforehand of the Storm; which as she 〈◊〉,  
She but awakes, and so provokes to rage  
With louder fury on the whole Earth's Stage.   

37.  
Forthwith the Clouds came tumbling one upon  
Another's back, for fear to lose their Place  
And Office in that blind Confusion  
With which the Element now gravid was:  
Close quaking in his Cave lay every Beast,  
And every Bird lamenting in his Nest.   

38.  
Strange Phantoms dressed in a spurious Light,  
Fed by foul Sulphur, flashed all about;  
Fell griezly Ghosts arrayed all in Fright  
Both with themselves and one another fought;  
Whole Troops of ghastly Fiends and Furies rend  
Their Snakes, as through the sable Air they went.   

39  
The labouring Clouds at length with open Cry  
Brought forth their Grief, and thundered their Complaint  
The most obdurate Rocks could not deny  
Their Pity, but strait trembled and grew faint:  
So did the massy Earth, which quaked to hear  
The woeful Outcry of its Neighbour Sphere.   

40.  
Psyche alone, as yet refused to melt  
By any tremor; only in her Heart  
A kind of Numbness creeping on she felt,  
'Cause Charis there forbore her wont Part:  
When lo, an heavy black condensed Cloud  
Down to the Ground before her face did crowed.   

41.  
Where having opened its hideous Curtains wide,  
Forth at the Gap a Stream of Lightning broke;  
Whose sudden dazzling, though now harmless, Tide  
The resolute Maid with some amazement stroke:  
But strait an Hand reached out itself and held  
A mighty Cup, with greater Terrors filled.   

42.  
It held it to her Lip, and what before  
Was Thunder, now proved an articulate Voice:  
And bade her drink up all that dreadful Store,  
Since she had been so venturous in her choice:  
She nothing more than Pleasures feared, and here  
Was nothing less than what her Heart did fear.   

43.  
Thus challenged by the Voice, whose Sound she knew,  
And durst not disobey; She sent her Eye  
Into the Cup to take a plenal View  
Of the black Liquor which in it did lie.  
Wherein such boiling Horrors she descried,  
That down she prostrate fell, and thus she cried:   

44.  
Weak Woman as I was, how has my Pride,  
My silly Pride, betrayed me to Woe!  
On Confidence's Wings I needs would ride  
Although I towered but to my Overthrow:  
Had I remembered that a Worm I am,  
I ne'er had crawled so high to mine own Shame.   

45.  
How is it Jesus, that Griefs mighty Cup  
Which thou didst once unto the Bottom drink,  
Is to its woeful Brim now filled up!  
What has renewed this more than deadly Sink,  
Whose Sorrows though to thine they shallow be,  
Yet are too deep for poor unhappy Me.   

46.  
Alas thy naked Anger here I see,  
In which no glimpse of Favour mixed is:  
What will become of weak abandoned Me  
Who in thy Countenance read mine only Bliss,  
If I be drowned in this Sea of Night,  
And covered up from my dear Spouse's sight!   

47.  
Sweet was the Cup of which Uranius drunk;  
For being swallowed up in Streams of Fire,  
Thrice happy Saint, to Heaven he only sunk:  
But I in this black Gulf of hideous Ire,  
Must downward dive, and overwhelmed be  
In Derelictions vast Profundity.   

48.  
I would not fear the most appalling Face  
Of any Sorrow, which did not preclude  
The sight of Thine; but now Thine Eyes, alas,  
By these of Mine no longer must be viewed;  
How shall I steer through this vast Sea, who may  
Not see the Stars which are to guide my way?   

49.  
Here having knocked her Breast, and turned her Eye,  
Her generous Eye, three times unto the Cup;  
She chid herself profoundly with a Sigh,  
And looking then with noble fervour up,  
Yet why should I demur, she cried, since mine  
Own Will is not mine own, but long since Thine?   

50.  
If any Title to myself I had,  
I might be tender of my Ease and Rest:  
But since to Thee a Deed of Gift I made,  
(Or rather of due Pay,) Thou art possessed  
Entirely of Me; nor must I refuse  
That Thou what is thine own shouldst freely use.   

51.  
I am no further I, than thou wilt grant;  
Propriety is no such Thing to Me:  
And I who nothing have, can Nothing want  
So long as I resigned am to Thee:  
Thy Will in Sweetness always equal is  
Though our false Taste do sometimes judge amiss.   

52.  
And now I know thy Will is mingled here  
With this sad Potion, what soever be  
The present Relish, Psyche doth not fear  
But it will end in purest Suavity.  
I fear it not: and here she took the Cup,  
And bravely to the Bottom drunk it up.   

53.  
As he who has in Poison quaffed deep,  
And drowned Himself in what he swallowed down;  
Quickly perceives the groping Mischief creep  
About his Heart; where being Victor grown,  
It's fatal Chains of cold and heavy Lead  
Upon its fainting Prisoner it doth spread.   

54.  
So Psyche having poured down this sad  
And horrid Draught, soon felt its woeful Force  
Upon her Soul its Patterie it made,  
Which proved to weak to stop its mighty Course:  
The Deluge broke into her Heart, and there  
With uncontrolled Power did domineer,   

55.  
Forth with the Clouds which had beset the Air  
Broke up their gloomy Siege, the Phantomes fled,  
Serenity made all the Welkin fair,  
The Rocks left Quaking, Birds began to spread  
Their cheerly Wings abroad, Beasts ventured out,  
So did the Sun, and poured his Gold about,   

56.  
The World to every Thing grew fresh and clear,  
But unto Psyche; for distressed she  
Perceived no mutation which could cheer  
The cloudy Region of her Agony:  
The Brightness of the Day to her was more  
Black than the Veil of Pitch She saw before,   

57  
Thus cheerly Music is but Torment to  
A pained Ear; Thus Neighbours Liberty  
With stricter Chains doth gripe the Prisoners Woe;  
Thus Candles to the Blind but Mockings be;  
Thus Gales, though cool and gentle, nothing slake  
The boiling Flames, but them more furious make,   

58.  
Alas her outward Self long since had she  
Forgot, and knew not what such Comforts meant;  
Above the Sphere of Sensibility  
She had established her sole Content:  
What is't to her that Phoebus shineth fair  
Upon her face, whose Joys above him were?   

59  
This little glaring Thing, this mortal Sun,  
Was not the King and Father of her Day:  
Her Morning dawn'd with Jesu's eyes alone,  
The glorious Fountains of her gallant Joy;  
And how, how can she live, now she no more  
Can feed upon that Bliss as heretofore?   

60.  
Her Soul looked up, alas, but looked in 〈◊〉;  
For on its Eyelids sat so thick a Night,  
That from that happy Prospect it did chain  
And keep close Prisoner her unhappy Sight;  
And less is Blind men's Grief, than theirs 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Nothing at all, 〈◊〉 their own Misery.   

61.  
For unto this, and this alone, her Eyes  
Wide open were, yea though she shut then 〈◊〉  
Still her importunate Calamities  
And Desolations, would themselves expose  
In full array unto her View, in spite  
Of any Veil which could against them fight   

62.  
Tortured by this unsufferable Loss,  
(For she had never been alone till now,)  
Spreading to Heaven her woeful Hands 〈◊〉  
To her Devotions she her Knees did bow  
And in an helpless lamentable hue,  
Thus to her 〈◊〉 wont 〈◊〉 did sue   

63.  
My God, where e'er Thou art, Why, Why wilt Thou  
Who every where canst thy great Self display  
Unto thine Handmaid not one glimpse allow  
Who once enjoyed thy Favour Highnoon Day  
Which had I never done, my present Pain  
With such excessive Anguish would not reign.   

64.  
Hath not thy boundless Sweetness taught my Heart  
Complete Disrellish of all Things beside?  
Where grows the Balsam then which for my Smart,  
And Me, can any Lenitive provide;  
So long as most abandoned I in this  
Black Death the Life of thy sweet Aspect 〈◊〉   

65.  
Strong was this Cry; for all the heavens it rend,  
But yet it could not make them hear; and She  
Who never until now had thither sent  
Her Prayers in vain, amazed was to see  
These which so loud about her Spouse resounded  
Back to her Breast with Emptiness rebounded.   

66.  
Yet, as the noble Palm, though on her Head  
A massy, churlish, sturdy Burden lies,  
With valiant Patience still goes on to spreac  
Her inderatigable Arms, and tries  
How she may both her sad Affiiction bear,  
And her ambitious Boughs still higher rear:   

67.  
So galiant Psyche, though now on her Back  
This Load more ponderous than Mountains lay  
Bravely resolved not to let it crack,  
Nor her most loyal Patience betray:  
She knew what Jesus underwent before,  
And that his Love deserved thus much, and more   

68  
Confirmed therefore to her Task she went,  
And spurred up Logos to his daily Part;  
Whom upon Contemplation's Wings she sent  
To fetch some Comfort for her pined Heart:  
Unto heavens Treasury she sent Him, where  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 meet with high and holy Cheer.   

69.  
But every Night when he returned home.  
Alas he nothing brought but sapless Fare,  
Lank dry Results, whose Bulk and Total Sum  
She never saw amount to more than bare  
And flashie uselessness, resembling that  
〈…〉 thither lately shot   

〈◊〉  
This sad Miscartiage fully did a wake  
The fountains of her Eyes, which liberal were  
In 〈◊〉 Drops by that thick shower to slake,  
Or empty out the Grief which flamed in her:  
Yet all this woeful Brine she thus did pour  
But only 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Cheeks and 〈◊〉 her more.   

71.  
Thus crossed and disappointed every way  
Though she a fair and full Temptation had  
No more to Mock herself, and waste the day  
In fruitless Toil: Yet she this Statute made,  
Unto herself, Her Duty still to do,  
Whether Heaven would regard her Pains, or 〈◊〉   

72.  
So when the unrelenting Storm hath driven  
The Mariner into the boiling Main,  
And with thick Clouds so veiled the face of Heaven  
That he direction from no Star can gain;  
He yieldeth not to all those Miseries,  
But plies his Oars, whether He lives or dies,   

73.  
Her Tears she poured still, her Sighs she blew,  
Her Hands she Lifted up, her Knees she bent,  
She knocked her Breast, her Contemplations fiew  
Their wont flight, her Groans her Bosom rend,  
Her Heart did pant with Languishments of Love  
By Watching, Prayers, & Fasts, with God she 〈◊〉   

74.  
With God she strove, and with herself; for all  
This while her Soul was out of tune and taste:  
Those Exercises savoured now of Call,  
Whose Sweetness pos d the Honey in times passed  
Yet she this tedious Gall would not forsake,  
Nor 〈◊〉 exchange the Dew of Hybla take   

75.  
Thus, when soul Humours have usurped, and reign  
In his weak Stomach, still the hungry Man  
Ingests his wholesome Diet, though in vain;  
For every hour his Meat, do what he can,  
Only misspent, and half-corrupted is,  
And then regorg d with painful Nauseousness.   

76.  
Her heavy Breast was now become as cold  
And dead, as if it ne'er had been the Seat  
Of 〈◊〉 Fire, and Heaven: and He that would  
Have paralleled her Souls and Bodies State,  
(Though wondrous dry this was,) might soon have spied  
How that, far more than This was Mortified.   

77.  
And this scru d her Condition's Anguish high;  
For still she neither thought she Watched nor Prayed,  
Nor shed a Fear, nor heaved up a Sigh,  
Nor managed her Contemplation's Trade,  
Nor Groaned, nor Loud; because she never felt  
Her Heart in any of these Actions melt.   

78.  
What Man upon the thankless Rocks can plow,  
Or found his Building on the faithless Sand,  
Or in the stormy Ocean's Furrows sow,  
Or wash the tawny AEthiopians Hand,  
And still be patient, though his Pains and Cost  
A thousand times already have been lost?   

79.  
Where's that stout He, who though He be employed  
In business of Fire and Flames, and set  
With sulphury fuel to keep up the Tide  
Of iron Fornaces enraged Heat,  
Can be content mean while Himself to be  
Shriveled and nipped up by Frosts Tyranny?   

80.  
Yet through these Riddles of Disconsolation  
Brave Psyche waded, and bore up her Head  
Aloft the Flood; whilst far above all Passion  
Her Passion she embraced, and wearied  
Herself with no less Quiet, than if she  
Down stream had sloated with facility.   

81.  
For patiently she 〈◊〉 was, and sound  
No Comfort in this 〈◊〉 of her 〈◊〉  
Yet though she every day and hour were 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 she 〈◊〉, she 〈◊〉 did 〈◊〉  
The 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and her 〈◊〉 did give  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

82.  
Long lived she in it: and although her Fasts  
She duly kept, yet did she not forbear  
When Nature challenged them, her spare Repasts,  
She being stored by Phylax s loving Care:  
Although she were ambitious to die,  
She scorned to hasten on her Destiny.   

83.  
Long lived she in it, for her Spouse was now  
Resolve d her Valonrs full Extent to try.  
But envious Satan who ran prieing through  
All Quarters of this lower World to spy  
Where He might find new Booties for his spite,  
Discovered her in this disconsolate Plight.   

84.  
But as a Coward who hath oft been beat,  
Yet still on base revengeful Hope doth feed,  
Waits opportunity when He may meet  
His brave Antagonist impoverished  
In strength and Spirits by some other Fight,  
And on that Weakness builds his stolen Might:   

85.  
So now base-hearted He the fight forbore  
Till Psyche's Courage He conceived spent;  
And then, with prouder Hopes than e'er before,  
Unto his damned Home puffed up he went:  
(Fool as He was; to let his Looks profess  
His Triumph, e'er the Victory was His.)   

86.  
Then having climbed his Throne, and from his face  
Wiped off the coalblack Sweat, into a Smile  
He forced it: The Fiends admired whar cause  
Their King's Austerity could so beguile;  
Yet, in compliance every One begun  
To shrivel up his Cheeks, and gently grin.   

87.  
When Satan thus: Hate and Defiance first  
To Heaven, and then all Glory to my Self.  
You know to what expense of Pains that 〈◊〉  
And though most feeble, yet most peevish 〈◊〉.  
Jesus his Mistress, long hath put Me, yet  
Upon that Worm my Will I could not get.   

88  
But now the feat is done, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Is by her goodly Spouse divoreed, and lies  
To the just Vengeance of our Majesty  
A most abandoned and woeful Prize.  
I saw her as she lay, but scorn d to bring  
Her with Me No, it 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 with a King.   

89.  
But thou Dispair, (and here he turned aside.  
For standing at his right Hand was the Fiend,  
Shalt fetch her hither: Thou mayst find her hid  
In that 〈◊〉 deserts farthest closest end  
Which lies next to that superstitious sink  
Where Arimathean 〈◊〉 bones do stink.   

90.  
The 〈◊〉 Fury made no stay,  
(For what so 〈◊〉 is as Desperation?)  
But posted upward, snatching by the way  
Her dismal Engines in such furious Fashion  
That all her Sister's 〈◊〉 at her haste,  
And 〈◊〉 was glad when she by it was passed.   

91.  
〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 the hilly Peak  
〈…〉 Way;  
〈…〉 impatience she did break.  
〈…〉 trembling lay,  
〈…〉 the dull sleeping 〈◊〉  
Awaked for fear and 〈◊〉 about its Bed.   

92.  
All Beasts which saw the 〈◊〉, as she flew  
Distracted at the horror of the sight,  
Themselves down fatal Precipices threw;  
All Birds unable to maintain their flight,  
Let their Wings flag, and hung their Heads aside.  
And having changed their tunes to shreiking, died.   

93.  
But still the frightful Fury posted on,  
Till she arrived at her desired Place:  
Where finding sorrowful Psyche all alone.  
She set her hideous self full in her face:  
All shapes of horror which did ever fright  
The 〈◊〉 Eyes, must stoop unto this sight.   

94.  
Pale Ghastlines did in her Viiage reign;  
Which yet self-Rage in part confuted had,  
Black hideous Gore full many a woeful stain  
Pumped from her own accursed Veins, had made:  
For oft her madness on herself she showed,  
And her Cheeks valleys with her nails had ploughed.   

95.  
Her Locks were half torn off, so was her Gown,  
And most by careless Naftiness was she  
Arrayed than by her clothes: Her breasts hung down  
All lank and torn, and flapped upon her knee,  
Which gaped, and showed the naked shattered Bone  
She 〈◊〉 had dashed on a sharp stont.   

96.  
But every Part did handsome seem and fair.  
Unto her hollow, and yet staring, Eyes;  
In which such sovereign Terrors marshaled were  
As no Description can equalise:  
For 〈◊〉 was like to nothing but the other,  
And 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which should outstare his Brother.   

97.  
These were the ominous Mirrors where each Wight  
Whose Bosom was not innocent and clear,  
No sooner looked, but in a fatal Plight  
He saw himself and all his Crimes, which there  
Appearing double, did affright him so  
That from his cursed self he wished to go.   

98.  
The 〈◊〉 Basilisks mischievous Eyes,  
And those of fascinating Witches, be  
Far 〈◊〉 Glasses, than these Prodigies  
Which 〈◊〉 with Danger's worst extremity.  
Heaven 〈◊〉 the Man whose miserable Chance  
〈◊〉 him into the 〈◊〉 of their glance.   

99  
Nor was the furniture of this foul Hag  
Unanswerable to her hideous looks;  
For in her starved sharp Arms she did lag  
A load of rusty Swords, Knives, Daggers, Hooks,  
With poisonous Cups and Boxes, all bound up  
And hung in many a fatal With and Rope.   

100  
Appointed thus, she stood a while and stared  
On desolate Psyche; who at first was stroke  
(For unexpectedly the Fiend appeared,  
And with a sudden dint,) at her fell look:  
And yet not so as to be beaten over;  
For straight her strength, and self, she did recover.   

101.  
The Tower thus, which at the furious Blast  
Of rushing Tempests yields a while to quake;  
Forgetteth not withal to stand more fast  
Than those proud Buildings which disdain to shake;  
And therefore by an instant Ruin down  
From their exalted Confidence are thrown.   

102.  
Dispair percerving that her looks were vain,  
Drew her more dangerous Weapon out; and this  
Was her be witching tongur, which she did strain  
Unto the highest Key of Crastines;  
And casting down her luggage, thus assayed  
To do as much upon the constant Maid:   

103.  
If I thy doubtful Countenance read aright,  
Thou neither understandest who am I,  
Nor who thyself: But this thy 〈◊〉 plight  
So charms my Pity, that I must descry  
Both unto Thee; and if thou wilt befriend  
Thyself thou mayst thy 〈◊〉 state amend.   

104.  
I knew my 〈◊〉 speaketh nothing less,  
Than 〈◊〉. But Things which fairest be  
Do often veil in their enchanting Dress  
The 〈◊〉 Stings of odious Treachery;  
And soher Wisdom always doth commend  
〈…〉 Friend.   

105.  
Were it not so, thyself hadst never strove  
Against the 〈◊〉 Tide of Things below.  
〈◊〉 full always of the soothing Love  
With which the World's inviting Smiles did slow,  
Were it not so, what Price could be so high  
To 〈◊〉 Thee thus thyself to Mortisic?   

106.  
Suspect not then my Looks, which needs must show  
Like Terrors most abhorred Book to them  
Whose vain deluded Bosoms overflow  
With secular Pleasures frothy empty Stream:  
These think each Wind, though it would blow them to  
The Haven, will prove a Storm, and them undo.   

107.  
But thy Condition, if Thou weighest it right,  
Will teach Thee better what concerns thy Bliss;  
Remember then, that since Thou saw'st the Light  
Thou ne'er hadst reason to be friends with this  
Unhappy Life, which from thy Cradle to  
This Hour, hath swarmed with Nothing but thy wo.   

108.  
The dainty Budds of thy young Vigorous years  
Served not trim a Gatland for Delight;  
By Virtue's rigid and untimely Cares  
They blasted were; and Thou even in despite  
Of blooming Tenderness preventedst Time  
And provedst old and withered in thy Prime.   

109.  
Whilst other Maydons 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 joy,  
Gather d the sweetest 〈◊〉 of cheerly 〈◊〉,  
Thou joyn'dst thyself in marriage to 〈◊〉  
Living a 〈◊〉 and Single 〈◊〉  
And thus of Griefs a numerous 〈◊〉  
Thou springing from thy virgin 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,   

110.  
〈◊〉 from this Isle of Bliss, thy native Home,  
Thy 〈◊〉 Zeal drove Thee into the East;  
Where Thou about 〈◊〉 Palistine didst room  
Both to the Place a 〈◊〉, and to Rest:  
What found'st thou there but thine own Loss, whilst Thou  
〈…〉 which the 〈◊〉 did dow?   

111.  
Alas, the dear 〈◊〉 of thy Lord  
Which with thine hankering Eyes thou there didst read,  
Did but Assurance to thy Soul afford  
That He, its only Joy, to Heav n was 〈◊〉:  
And surely here at home Thou wert as near  
The skies, as thou wert in thine Exile there.   

112.  
Thus having wasted out thy Strength, and Time,  
(And Credit too, with those who loved Thee best;)  
Back wert thou hurried to thy British Clime  
Lake a 〈◊〉 wearied Bird to her poor Nest:  
Where when thou countedst up thy Journeys Gains  
Thou only foundst thy Labour for thy Pains.   

113.  
Then fired by unhappy Piety,  
Upon thyself thou didst the Tyrant play  
Thy lamentable Body she weth by  
Its ghastly leanness, how thou strov'st to slay  
Thy guiltless Flesh, and what Pains thou didst 〈◊〉  
Languid and senseless every Sense to make.   

114.  
And for no other End, but to refine  
Thyself from this dull clogging Earth. unto  
A State which might thy backward Spouse 〈◊〉  
To love thy loyal Heart, which laboured so  
To trace his hardiest Steps, and cheerly toss  
Upon her Shoulders his most heavy Crosse.   

115.  
Yet when thou justly didst thy Boon expect,  
(Less due unto Uranius, than to Thee;)  
Unto a Dungeon He did thee reject;  
(A Place how far from 〈◊〉 Liberty.)  
Where thou who in the 〈◊〉 long'dst to expire,  
Wert forced to lead a dying Life in 〈◊〉.   

116.  
Remember what intolerable Chains  
Into thy Soul their cruel 〈◊〉 pressed,  
What Heaps of boiling Sores, and 〈◊〉 Pains  
Were poured upon Thee, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉;  
Whence when the Roman 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 prepared  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 thee free, thy freedom 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

117.  
It was debarred by no other Hand  
But that which rather should have lent thee Aid  
What Phylax did, was by thy Lords Command,  
When from that Gaol he stole thee, and betrayed  
Thy Hopes of Martyrdom, which now was grown  
Mature, and offered 〈◊〉 thine Head its Crown.   

118.  
I grant thy torturing Sores He healed, but  
Deserved nor Pay nor Thanks for that his Cure,  
Which did but thy repaired Body put  
In a fit able posture to endure  
This greater Load, whose mercilesle Excess  
Doth thy unpitied Shoulders 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

119.  
Shoulders unpitied by Him from whom  
Thou hadst most reason to expect Relief  
But in his cruel Ears there is no Room  
To lodge and entertain the Suit of Grief:  
Had there been any, surely He would not  
Thy mighty Supplications out have shut.   

120.  
How has the Stroke of thy impetuous Cry  
Taught this dumb Desert. Mournings Dialect;  
Whilst all its Rocks and Caverns shaken by  
Thy Groans and Lamentations, them reflect  
To Heaven with doubled fervour, and agree  
Fellow-Petitioners to be with Thee   

121.  
And yet thy grated Throat is not so dry,  
As are thy now exhausted Eyes, from whence  
Thy Spouse's cruel Heart to mollify  
Thou freely pourdst thine utmost Influence:  
But still the Stone which on his Breast doth grow  
Will not by all those Drops be pierced through   

122.  
O no! unkindly He doth turn away  
His Face, lest any Glimpie should leap to Thee:  
And thou long flattered by his Favours Day,  
Art now betrayed to the Misery  
Of blackest Night O may all Souls beware  
How they heavens wiley Prince do trust too far   

123.  
Alas, thy desolate Heart too well doth know  
That thy Condition I do not mistake;  
And with secure Presumption, Psyche, Thou  
Mayst from my Art this sound Conclusion make  
That I who can discover all thy Grief  
May tell what physic will yield thee 〈◊〉   

124.  
Thy Phylax, once esteemed thy trustiest Friend,  
Well understands the depth of thy Disease:  
Yet finding all his skill too weak to lend  
Thee any real Aid, himself he frees  
From fruitless Trouble, and is fled away,  
Ashamed now his weakness to betray   

125.  
I know not how, but always at a Pinch,  
When great Extremities crave equal Aid,  
Your common Comforters use still to flinch,  
And cry, heavens Will be done: But I afraid  
Of nothing am, no not heavens Destination  
〈◊〉 along can feel no Desperation,   

126.  
ay, I the only able Doctress, who  
In desperate Cases certain Physic give,  
In pity of thy unregarded Woe,  
Am hither come prepared to relceve  
Thy helpless Heart: Nor do I ask a Fee:  
My 〈◊〉 Guerdon shall thy 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

127.  
Lo here store of Receipts: When noble Saul  
The field, his Kingdom, and his God had lost;  
No sooner on this Swords Point he did fall,  
But all the Plot of his Mishaps he crossed,  
And, maugrè all Philistia's Powers, fell  
Down to the Rest of holy Samuel.   

128.  
Disgraced by Hushai, and rejected by  
Fond Absalon, profound 〈◊〉  
Himself to teskue from this Misery  
Consulted with his own deep Oracle,  
And found no 〈◊〉 way than by this Rope  
His Breath his Light, and his Contempt to stop.   

129.  
Great Annibal accustomed long to ride  
In Triumphs Chariot, being overborne  
By undeserved Misfortunes powerful Tide,  
Lest he should prove the Roman Song and 〈◊〉,  
Sipped but a little of that Poison there,  
And went in glorious Peace unto his Beer,   

130.  
Renowned Cato, when by peevish Fate  
Thrust into Straits too narrow to contain  
His mighty Spirit; by a little hate  
Of wretched Life, 〈◊〉 Rest did gain;  
There lies the Sword still with his brave blood 〈◊〉  
By which he op d the Way, and freed his Soul   

〈◊〉  
 
〈◊〉 gallant Antony to overthrow;  
〈◊〉 that it ever should be said  
That noble He, though conquered, would 〈◊〉,  
He with that Weapon cut th' unhappy Thread  
Of life, and laid him down in 〈◊〉 Bed   

132.  
Say not that these were Men, and Female Thou  
〈…〉 manage 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Thy 〈◊〉 high Exploits will not allow  
〈…〉 Yet could I cite to Thee  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 thy most extreem Distress  
〈◊〉 be thy Warrant for this manliness.   

133.  
〈…〉 rusty with the blood,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Blood, of Female Lucrece; she  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to her Tears poor Womanish 〈◊〉;  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 her Directions from Me;  
And with that Instrument broached from her Veins  
〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 wish the blackness of her Stains.   

134.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when her Disasters grew  
〈◊〉 thick and cross that they had almost shut  
The way to all Relief, found out a new  
Road unto Death, and down her Throat she put  
The Fire which made Her her own Sacrifice:  
Part of the Coals still in that Casketlies'.   

135.  
Although sweet Antony was wont to rest  
In 〈◊〉 s dainty Bosom; yet  
When Losses her besieged, unto her breast,  
Her lovely breast, an odious Asp she set,  
Which suckd out her sad Life: and in that round  
Box lies the Serpent up in Circles wound.   

136.  
 
As 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, thou hast witness by  
〈…〉 who  
 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 by whose untue she  
  

137.  
 
 
 
 
 
  

〈◊〉  
 
 
 
 
 
  

〈◊〉  
But hate not thou thyself, cause I am kind,  
Nor scorn the Bounty of my Pity: Know.  
It stands not with a truly 〈◊〉 mind  
To fear her own, more than another's Blow.  
If thou 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; be Brave, and Die  
The Life of Fame doth reach Eternity,   

140.  
Come then, and since thy Spouse so cruel is,  
Give Him his 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 Him to his face:  
Come choose the Way unto by 〈◊〉 Bliss,  
And 〈◊〉 send 〈◊〉 Self unto the 〈◊〉  
Where 〈◊〉, who did this 〈…〉  
Safe in the Arms of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 main.   

141.  
Thou hast too long already waited on  
The 〈◊〉 of regardless Heaven, since thou  
Art able by thy valiant Hand alone  
To give thyself what that will not allow:  
A Martyrdome's thy Wish, and Thou mayst be  
A Martyr unto thine own Bravery.   

142.  
So spoke Dispair. But Psyche all the 〈◊〉  
Stood firm and constant, us the resolute Rock  
For well she understood her fatal Guile,  
And therefore armed herself against the Shock  
Of this Assault, which, as she made can end,  
She thus rebounded back upon the 〈◊〉;   

143.  
 
 
 
 
 
  

〈◊〉  
 
 
 
 
 
  

145.  
'Tis true, my Spouse hath hid his joyous face,  
And sure I have deserved He should do so:  
Yet ne'er was Night so long, but did give place  
At length to cheerly Day, but that which you  
Groan in beneath; and therefore wondrous fain  
Into that endless Darkness Me would gain.   

146.  
Let Jesus use his Pleasure on me, I  
His Dust and Ashes am: and so go tell  
Your envious father Belzebub; for by  
His delegation you are come from Hell:  
Tell him, though Jesus kill Me, yet I must,  
And in his Goodness will, repose my Trust.   

147.  
The Fury to this Word made no reply,  
But by an hideous Shriek, which split the Air  
And rend the earth, rebounding on the Sky  
And Heart of Hell at once: all Thunders were  
But murmurs to this fragor; and the Sea  
But Whispers when her Billows loudest be.   

148.  
Then snatching up her Baggage with one Hand;  
And with the other tearing off her Hair,  
Her Skin, her flesh; She cursed Jesus, and  
Ran bleeding to the gloomy Cavern, where  
She shrieked again, and shaked Hell before  
She entered through the Gulf of its black Door.   

149.  
Great Satan started when the Fiend he saw  
Come thus lamenting home without her Prey:  
Upon her throat he clapped his iron Paw,  
And through it tore his Indignations Way;  
For Pain She roared, so did He for Spite,  
Whilst all Hell trembled at the dreadful sight.   

150.  
But Psyche, though her victory were great,  
And might in other Hearts have Triumph bred;  
No joy could relish in her glorious Feat,  
For to all Comfort She was cold and dead,  
And in her Conquest did remain as sad  
As if herself had been a Captive made.   

151.  
Her woeful Hands She wrung, and smote her Breast,  
And cried, What is this good Success to Me?  
So long as Heaven is deaf to my Request,  
So long as I grope in Obscurity,  
So long as from my Spouses Eyes the wide  
Black Curtains of Disfavour mine do hide.   

152.  
Now now alas, by dear Experience I  
Have learned that Sweets and Pleasures no where are  
Truly themselves, but in the Treasury  
Of Jesu's all-enamoring Countenance; there,  
There are they lodged alone, and hid from Me  
Who even in Joy find nought but Misery.   

153.  
As in the depth of this Disconsolation  
She plunged lay, and saw no Way to Rise:  
Phylax quite tired with his long sequestration  
From his dear Charge, of whose Calamities  
He jealous was; with importunity  
Wrested from Heaven a Licence Her to see.   

154.  
No Wind its Wings more stoutly ever stretched,  
Or flew with brisker nimbleness than He:  
But when his Speed this wished Place had reached,  
Far from his Wishes He the Place did see;  
Down fell his Plumes, and Eyes, back flew his Blood,  
And He, o how unlike an Angel, stood!   

155.  
Such havoc Grief had made in Psyche's face,  
That in herself, herself He scarce could spy:  
Besides the blessed Beams of heavenly Grace  
Which used to sparkle in her holy Eye,  
Were damped with deadish Dullness, and no sign  
Peeped forth of any Thing within divine.   

156.  
This further spurred on his Search to see  
What kind of Wether it was in her Breast;  
Where finding thick and heavy Darkness, He  
Would to the Centre of her Heart have pressed;  
But Charis there so close lay locked up,  
That all his sweet Powers could not charm it open.   

157.  
At this Amazed, and amazed too  
That She who with impatient Love had used  
To bid Him welcome, and his feet to woe  
With humble Kisses, stood like One amused,  
And doubtful whither now it were not best  
To throw Neglect on her unsent-for Guest.   

158.  
And yet, resolved to try the Strength of Love,  
And not be dashed out of his sweet Intent,  
He kindly her embraced, and gently strove  
To warm and win her by that Compliment:  
He wrought with all his heavenly Heats to thaw  
Her Soul, where frost He domineering saw.   

159.  
But what can tardy Salves and Balsams do  
If Life the Member once has bid Adieu?  
In vain does Phylax hug his Pupil, who  
Beyond the reach of finite Comfort grew;  
In vain he blew those Ashes, in whose heap  
No Embers, nor no hopeful spark did sleep.   

160.  
This stroke into his heart so deep a Wound,  
That he forgot with him he brought his Tongue;  
And pitching sadly down upon the ground,  
His anxious Thoughts and Eyes on her he hung,  
Whilst Silence sat upon his Lips, and quite  
Sealed them up for many a day and night.   

161.  
So when the desolate Idumean Prince  
Not worth so much as his own skin was left;  
(For by an universal Confluence  
Of boiling Sores he was of it bereft;)  
His dearest Friends sat by him on the ground  
In silent Grief and stupifaction drowned.   

162.  
But then perceiving this long expectation  
Bred no relenting in her stiff Disease,  
Into the Dialect of Consolation  
He opened his Mouth, and tried his best, by these  
Most tender Lenitives to venture on  
Her heart, and fight with its cold heavy stone.   

163.  
O Psyche, (if Thou yet remainest she,)  
What means this strange averseness in thine Eye?  
How hast thou lost thy memory of Me  
Who still am Phylax; and Calamity  
Me thinks should make thee not forget my Name,  
Who by my Office thy Protector am.   

164.  
If ever thou hadst found Me false, when thy  
Distress has called for my helping hand:  
Or if thy present heavy Misery  
Doth not in need of my Assistance stand,  
Well mightst thou by this strange deportment dart  
Disdain upon the Comforts I impart.   

165.  
It was no business of mine own which drew  
Me from thy Company, most dear to me;  
Witness the time when I so cheerly slew  
To Palestine, and back again, with thee;  
Forsaking all that while the sphere where I  
In sovereign blessedness was wont to fly.   

166.  
But He who both my Master is, and thine,  
Called me away; if yet it were away:  
For my employment was not so much mine  
As thine, for whose sweet sake thy Spouse did lay  
That charge upon me: Then be of good Cheer,  
And to the happy news I bring, give Ear.   

167.  
When I in Heaven had long attendance paid,  
To Jesu's Sovereign pleasure; Gracious He  
Hearing my sighs, in gentleness arrayed  
His looks, and to his footstool beckoned me:  
Where having on my face adored him thrice,  
He blessed Me as oft, and bade Me rise.   

168.  
Then looking to his own right Hand, at which  
His radiant Mother kneeled, who makes the light  
Of heaven itself with her sweet Lustre, rich;  
Behold, said he to Me, my dearest sight;  
Behold the Queen of all this joy and bliss  
Which by my Regal title I possess.   

169.  
But her Retinue is not so complete  
As she deserveth, and I needs must grant;  
Soft Snowy Followers, answering her sweet  
And ever-virgin Self she still doth want;  
And from my Nursery below must I  
Her worthy Train with fitting Plants supply,   

170.  
And one of those is humble Psyche, she  
Whose Watering and whose Pruning is thy Charge:  
Her from unworthy Dusts Captivity  
And all her other straits, I will enlarge  
E'er long, when I have proved her to be  
By Fires true Witness, fitting Gold for me.   

171.  
In that bright Station shall her dwelling be,  
(And he to Mary's right hand pointed here,)  
There shall the Clouds of her Humility  
Break up into a Day of Glory; there  
Her Sufferings all shall prove Divine; and go  
And from my Mouth assure thy Pupil so.   

172.  
I prostrate fell and took my leave; and flew  
More on Joys Wings than these, through the vast sea  
Of glorious Blessedness; but as I drew  
Near thine old Friend Uranius (For he  
Reigns on a lower throne than thine,) he cried,  
What fortune Phylax, doth thy Charge betid?   

173.  
That shall you shortly see, said I; and so  
Posted directly hither unto thee.  
And if this News cannot outlook thy 〈◊〉;  
Tell me why thou disdainest Felicity;  
Why Phylax ne'er less welcome was, then now  
He of thine highest Hopes the Dawn doth show:   

174.  
Why thou, against the meek ingenuous law  
Of civil Gratitude, dost not embrace  
With joyous heart, and with unfurrowed brow,  
This mighty token of heavens royal Grace:  
Why thou thine own Ambition contradictest,  
Whilst, with his Promise thou thy Spouse rejectest.   

175.  
So spoke the Angel. But the heavy Maid  
Grown deas to every Word that sounded Joy,  
Her doleful hand upon her Bosom laid,  
And, pressed with the Burden of Annoy,  
Hung down her Head, replying by a flood  
Of tears, how little him she understood.   

176.  
But when she saw he was unsatisfied  
With that dumb Answer, first an heavy Groan  
She helped forth, then flinging open wide  
Her lamentable Arms, Let me alone  
She 〈◊〉, and to my domineering Grief  
Afford, at least in Pity, this Relief.   

177.  
I know you were of old, and still would be  
My faithful Friend; I well remember you  
Are Phylax, and what blessed suavity  
You constantly did to my heart allow;  
But that was when my heart alive you found,  
Which now in Desolation is drowned.   

178.  
What Comfort gains a Carcase cold and dead  
By the warm Courtesy of Fomentations?  
In vain are Tables sumptuously spread  
And furnished with luxurious Preparations  
To court a stomach, all whose Appetite  
By Nauseousness is slain unto Delight.   

179.  
Blame me not Phylax, for I love you still,  
And of your Presence fain the sweets would reap;  
But now my greater joy is damped, my Will  
Reacheth her Arms to this in vain; you heap  
But 〈◊〉 on Me, whilst before my Face  
You set those Pleasures I cannot embrace.   

180.  
Should I but strive to grasp them, envious they  
Would shrink to emptiness, and mock my hand;  
Or from their own sweet selves quite fly away,  
Degenerating into Sorrows, and  
Right-down 〈◊〉, rather than impart  
One Taste of Joy to my afflicted heart.   

181.  
For o what Relish can there be to Me  
In any Dainties which you can provide,  
So long's the Lord of my Felicity  
From my divorced Eyes himself doth hide!  
If Phoebus once withdraws his Sovereign Ray,  
What can poor Candles do to cheer up Day!   

182.  
Did but the wont Beams of heavenly Grace  
Vouchsafe to smile upon my 〈◊〉;  
They easily would out-look the sourest face  
Of all the 〈◊〉 which are frowning there:  
But since sweet 〈◊〉 is eclipsed to Me,  
Phylax is Absent though he Present be.   

183.  
Surely your News had glorious been, and sweet  
If carried unto any One but Me:  
But I in heavens and Blisse's Names can meet  
No Melody at all, since Misery  
Hath sealed, and frozen up my Breast, and I  
Unto myself alone abandoned lie.   

184.  
Though I were now perched on the Battlement  
Of highest Glory, and beneath me saw  
Each flaming Seraph; I should not resent  
That Place as Glorious: still, still below  
Should I esteem myself, so long as I  
Am muffied up from seeing the most High.   

185.  
Yet now that Jesus, whose poor Worm I am,  
Is pleased thus to leave Me to my Dust;  
His Pleasure I must not presume to blame,  
Which though it bitter seem, is surely Just.  
His mighty Name I still adore and bless;  
His heavy Rod which ploughs my Soul, I kiss.   

186.  
Here manly Sorrow stopped her Mouth, and she  
From Phylax having turn d her ghastly Eye,  
Folded her Arms about her breast: Which He  
No sooner saw, but deeply pierced by  
Her mighty Wound, He hung his sad eyes down,  
And answer d all her Groan, with his own.    

PSYCHE: OR LOVES MYSTERY. CANTO XX. The Consummation.  
ARGUMENT.  

Restored to Grace's Light, and Ravished by  
The Splendour of Beatitude, which shined  
In her closed sleeping Eyes, Psyche with high  
Desire's Impatience feels her fervent Mind  
Fall all on a light Fire; and thus she dies,  
As she had lived before, LOVES Sacrifice.   

1.  
SWeet END, thou Sea of Satisfaction, which  
The weary Streams into thy Bosom tak'st;  
The Spring unto the Spring Thou first dost reach,  
And by thy inexbausted Kindness mak'st  
It fall so deep in Love with Thee, that through  
All Rocks and Mountains it to Thee doth flow.   

2.  
Thou art the Centre in whose close embrace  
From the wide wild Cireumference each Line  
Directly runs to find its resting Place.  
Upon their swiftest Wings, to perch on thine  
Enobling Breast, which is their only Butt,  
The Arrows of all high Desires are shot.   

3.  
All Labours pant and languish after Thee,  
Stretching their longest Arms to catch their Bliss;  
Which in the Way, how sweet so e'er it be,  
They never find; but with all earnestness  
Press further on, until they can pull down  
Upon their stour Heads, Thee, their only Crown.   

4.  
The Ploughman answers not the smiling Spring  
With Smiles again, but jealous is until  
Thy happy Season his long Hopes doth bring  
Unto their Ripeness with his Corn, and fill  
His Barn with plenteous Sheaves, with Joy his 〈◊〉,  
For Thou, and only Thou, his Harvest art.   

5.  
The Traveller suspecteth every Way  
Although they traced and fair-beaten be:  
Nor is secure but that his Leader may  
Perchance mistaken be, as well as He,  
Or that his strength may fail Him; till he win  
Possession of Thee, his wished Inn.   

6.  
Nobly besmeared with Olympik Dust  
And hardy sweat, the Runner holds his pace  
With obstinate Celerity, in trust  
That thou wilt wipe and glorify his face:  
His Prize's soul art Thou, whose precious sake  
Makes Him these mighty Pains with Pleasure take.   

7.  
The Mariner will trust no Wind, although  
Upon his Sails it blows all Flattery;  
The fawning Sea, when smoothest it doth show,  
Cannot allure him to Security;  
He credits none but Thee. who art his Bay.  
To which through Calmes and Storms He hunts his way.   

8.  
And so have I, cheered up with Hopes at last  
To double Thee, endured this tedious Sea;  
Through the Time's foaming Tempests I have passed.  
Through flattering Calms of private Suavity;  
Through interrupting Companies thick Press;  
Through the vast Deep of mine own Laziness;   

9  
Through many Sirens Charms which me invited  
To dance to Ease's Tunes, the Tunes in fashion;  
Through many cross misgiving Thoughts, which frighted  
My jealous Pen; and through the Conjuration  
Of Ignorant and Envious Censures, which  
Implacabley, against all Poem's 〈◊〉;   

10.  
But chiefly Those which venture in a Way  
Unbeaten yet by any Muse's feet;  
Which trust that Psyche, and her Jesus may  
As well become a Verse, and look as sweet,  
As Venus and her Son; that Truth can be  
A nobler Theme than wanton 〈◊〉.   

11.  
And seeing now I am in ken of Thee,  
The Harbour which enfiamed my Desire,  
And with this constant Patience steered Me  
To bring my Bark to rest; I am on fire  
Till I my Seife in thy sweet Arms do throw,  
And on the Shore hang up my finished 〈◊〉.   

12.  
Nor will thy Pleasantness less welcome be  
To Patient Psyche who so long hath sailed  
Through the deep Ocean of Calamity,  
And over many a boisterous Storm prevailed;  
Who through the Smiles and through the Frowns of Heaven  
With equal Meekness hath till now been driven.   

13.  
For still on Thee she fixed her longing Eye,  
On Thee, who will't unto her Soul afford  
The plenitude of her Felicity,  
The dear Enjoyment of her precious Lord,  
And then exchange thy 〈◊〉 Name, and be  
No longer End, but firm Eternity.   

14.  
As she sat teaching Phylax how to grieve,  
Who faithfully her Sorrows copied;  
The Time approached when Heaven would her, repreive  
From this sad Duty, and upon her Head  
Let fall the Crown which in this noble Fight  
She bravely earned by her constant Might.   

15.  
With Joyeuse Horror on the sudden she  
Started and trembled, and leaped from the ground;  
The Angel wondered what the Cause might be,  
Whose quick Effect did upon Him rebound;  
For up he rose, and in suspense expected  
What raised the Maid, so much before dejected.   

16.  
When lo, the Joy which kindled in her Breast,  
Broke forth and flamed in her cheerful Eye  
For blessed Charis, who so long suppressed  
In the close Centre of her Heart did lie,  
Was now unlocked by Jesus, and had leave  
To her sweet Influence the Reins to give.   

17.  
So when thick Clouds have dammed up the Day,  
And doleful Blackness veiled the Welkin's face;  
If Phoebus through those Curtains rends his way,  
And bids the Darkness to his Beams give place,  
The Air surprised by her sudden Bliss  
At first with frightful Gladness startled is.   

18.  
So when that unexpected virgin Light  
Broke from the glorius Mouth of God, upon  
The rude disconsolate Heap of firstborn Night;  
That sudden Morn with cheerful Terror ran  
About the universal Deep, which was  
Amazed at the dint of Lustre s face.   

19  
With Pleasure's strong Incursion Psyche thus  
Being 〈◊〉 and shaken; e'er she leisure had  
To tell her Gladness, sweet and bounteous  
Charis a passage through her Bosom made,  
And in th' exuberance of Suavity  
Her smiling Self presented to her Eye.   

20.  
But Humane Souls are in Capacity  
So poor and dull while here they dwell below,  
They know not how to bear even Courtesy,  
Unless by slow Degrees on them it grow:  
Delights, if rushing in a sudden Stream,  
A Deluge prove of Torments unto Them.   

21.  
This Spectacle bred such Extremities  
Of overflowing Joys in Psyche's Breast,  
That she, alas, too narrow to comprise  
This swelling Sea of which she was possessed,  
Resign d herself to it, and by a Sown  
In its delicious Depths sunk gently down,   

22.  
But Charis being Mistress of the Tide,  
So bridled in the pliant Floods, that they  
Submitted to her Hand their dainty Pride,  
And for her gentler Compliment made way:  
This was a soft Embrace, by which the Maid  
She girded, and her fainting Passion stayed.   

23.  
Then with incomparable Sweetness she  
Her Eyes upon her fixed, and thus began:  
My Dear, and has Disuse such Potency  
That it upon my cheerly Presence can  
Disrellish cast; or are my Beams too strong  
For thee, who hast in Darkness groped so long?   

24.  
Henceforth take Courage, for no more will I  
(And here Thou hast in Pawn my royal Word,)  
Leave thee to wade in gloomy Misery,  
But trusty Light to all thy ways afford;  
Full broad-day Light: for all this while I gave  
Thee secret Beams which thou didst not perceive.   

25.  
And had 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 done so; had I not 〈◊〉  
Close at the bottom of thine Heart, to keep  
Thy Souls foundation firm and sure; in 〈◊〉  
Laborious Zeal had duly broke thy sleep,  
In vain had all thy Signs and Tears been spent.  
In vain thy Prayers had to Heaven been sent.   

26.  
Unto its dismal Name too truly true  
Thy Dereliction had proved, had I  
With neversleeping Care not lain perdu  
To watch the Motions of thy Enemy;  
That Enemy whose fatal Company  
Makes Desolation, Desolation be.   

27.  
When that infernal Hag, the damned Queen  
Of Hideousness, advanced to the fight,  
Armed both Hand and Tongue; had I not been  
In thy main Fort (however out of Sight,)  
Sure She had undermined it, and thou  
Hadst by Dispair been quite blown up e'er now,   

28.  
Yet close I lurked, thy Courage so to try  
When thou no Second didst perceive at Hand:  
This was the Plot of LOVE himself, and I  
My Ambush placed but at his Command:  
LOVE hid my face; and so he did his own;  
But all that while he woven for thee a Crown.   

29.  
The Crown which thy long loyal Patience  
In the bright Realm of humble Saints shall wear;  
And till Thou thither art translated hence,  
I in thy Breast my Tent at large will rear;  
That till the greater Heaven receiveth thee,  
Thou mayst contain it in Epitome,   

30.  
This said: She gathered up her Train of Light,  
Which in an Orb was all about her spread,  
And shrinking up herself with heavenly Sleight  
Within her sprightful Self, she entered  
The Virgin's Breast again; and there begun  
To exercise her full Dominion.   

31.  
Forth with a Tumult boiled in Psyche's Heart;  
But boiled and foamed in vain; for instantly  
The Rout by Chari's most unconquered Art.  
Was forced from that usurped Hold to fly:  
Vain Dread was first which shrunk & turned 〈◊〉  
And so these Cowards flying Army 〈◊〉.   

32.  
For She, herself no sooner 〈◊〉 out,  
But at her heels Lamenting Sorrow came  
Tearing her hair and flinging it about;  
Then leare-ey d 〈◊〉, unworthy Shame,  
Pale-faced Disconsolation, and 〈◊〉,  
With Indevotion's dead and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

33.  
But in the Rear rushed out Forgetfulness,  
A dim and swarthy Thing; and hand in hand  
Led her Compatriots and Associates: These  
Were sluggish Mists, dull Night, thick Blackness, and  
Whatever is of kin to them, whatever  
Can block up heaven and Souls from light dissever.   

34.  
Compared with these, all Soot, and Ink, and Pitch,  
Were Compositions of Milk and Snow;  
So was the gross and triduan Darkness which  
Did on the face of shameless Memphis grow;  
Or that which locked up Sodom's Eyelids more  
Close than Lot's utmost Care had done his Door.   

35.  
Psyche admiring stood to see her Breast  
So fertile in this hideous Progeny;  
Which, as she veiwed them, directly pressed  
Downward into the Womb of Earth, to be  
Conveyed back unto their native Home;  
For from beneath this gloomy 〈◊〉 did come   

36.  
And now she found her Bosom full as clear  
As when to Heaven she Thelema presented:  
Now all her Passions unhampered were,  
And every Bond to Liberty relented;  
All things were sweet and fair within, and she  
Released into complete Serenity.   

37.  
Love, Anger, Hatred, Jealousy, and Fear  
And all the rest of that swift-winged Crew,  
With holy sprightfulness revived were,  
And to their proper Objects nimbly flew:  
They 〈◊〉, and clashed not their Wings together  
But kindly helped and cheered one another.   

38.  
Hope, which had groped and languished till now  
In deplorable Mists; new courage took,  
And challenged every Wind its worst to blow,  
Since she perceived her Cable was not broke,  
But that her trusty Anchor held its hold  
Whilst Desolations Sea about her rolled.   

39  
And Logos too, sad heretofore, and dry,  
Felt cneerly Vigour flaming in his Heart;  
Which spurred him on to beg her leave to try  
Whether he could not now perform his part  
With more successful strength, and from the Treasures  
Of Heaven, fetch Contempletions solid Pleasure:   

40.  
His Motion she heard with joyus Ear,  
And turned to Heaven her gladsome Ey, to see  
Whether the way to it, Companion were  
In her brisk Bosoms new Serenity:  
She turned her Ay, and in heavens volumes read  
More than her own desires had coveted.   

41.  
For lo the sullen Clouds which heretofore  
Had damned the way to her rejected sight,  
Drowned in repentant Tears, themselves did pour,  
And dash in sunder, to lay open a bright  
And undisturbed Passage to that Spheat  
Where Psyche's Jewels all ensh rined were   

42.  
In bounteous Beams of royal Influence  
Her open Sun bestowed himself upon her:  
And this awaked her long astonished sense  
To find and feel the sweets of this dear Honour;  
This swelled her Bosom with such Ravishment,  
That through her lips she hastes to give it vent,   

43.  
And now, o my delicious Lord, said she,  
I thank thee for that Famine I endured:  
I little dreamed that this Felicity  
Could by this torturing anguish be procured:  
But in the Wisdom of thy Love didst thou  
Then make me Fast the more to Feast me now.   

44.  
Thou with that wholesome Tempest tossed'st me,  
That I might throughly understand the bliss  
Of this sweet Calm: by the aridity  
Of cold and tedious Death didst thou suppress  
My secular Spirits, that revived I  
Might live to thee, as to the World I die   

45.  
Now, now, I taste this life indeed; which I  
Though I enjoyed it, did not know before:  
Alas, We fools are best instructed by  
Absence, and Loss, to prise the richest store:  
These thanks I to my Dereliction owe,  
That I can relish my Fruition now   

46.  
So deep I relish it, dear Jesus, that  
I would not for the Cream of Paradise  
But have been drowned in that desolate State,  
Whence to the Bliss of mine own Bliss I rise.  
For what were Paradise to me, unless  
I feelingly perceived its Pleasantness?   

47.  
O that more Thelema's I had, which I  
Might sacrifice in witness of this Debt  
Since thy revealed Countenance upon my  
Unworthy Head this mighty Score hath set:  
Yet what do our poor Wills by being thine,  
But only make Themselves, not Thee, divine?   

48.  
I now could covetous be, and wish that all  
The Treasures both of Heaven and Earth were mine,  
That with this Offering I might prostrate fall  
And dedicate it at thy Favours shrine.  
Yet what were all the World to that which I  
Owe to thy Sovereign Benignity!   

49.  
Had I ten thousand Lives to spend on thee.  
That 〈◊〉 Expense would but my Gains augment.  
How 〈◊〉 where Gratitude herself must be  
〈◊〉, can poor I due Thanks present?  
Sweet Lord informaud help my Soul, which fain  
Would tender something back to thee again.   

50.  
She ceased here: And Phylax, who attended  
The leisure of her fervent Exultation;  
With equal Joy and Ardour, where she ended,  
Began her Praises; and Congratulation:  
Joy, joy, dear Pupil, of this Morn, said he,  
Which hath dispelled thy Night of Misery.   

51.  
I see what reason thou hadst to be sad,  
Beyond my Comforts reach; because I see  
The sweet Occasion which hath made thee glad;  
Such mighty Grief could only chased be  
By that Meridian Almighty Ray,  
Which drives the Life of Woe, even Death away.   

52.  
The high Excess of his 〈◊〉 Joy  
Would let him speak no more; but spuired him on  
With Kisses and Embraces to allay  
The dainty Wrath of his strong Passion.  
Full close he chained her in the tender Bands  
Of zealous Love, his blessed Arms and Hands.   

53.  
〈◊〉 Maid, who would not to this 〈◊〉  
Belong in debt, thus, in a snnle, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 begging of my 〈◊〉 you 〈◊〉  
But for my Thanks, they must 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 hence to be full and 〈…〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 best he 〈…〉   

54.  
Surely the other Day you were the same  
Which you are now, in every Ornament  
Of gracious Sweetness, when you hither came  
And your best Cordials did to Me present:  
But clownish Senseless I could not embrace  
You 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 landy r offered Grace.   

55.  
Had this Behaviour quenched your Love to Me.  
To none but my rude Self had Blame been due,  
Yet you with faithful patient fervency  
More careful still, and still more render grew.  
My Grief you to yourself assumed as you  
Were able, 〈◊〉 for Me with Tears did slow,   

56.  
Though Thy Heaven and Earth abandon was,  
And psunged into the Cull of Desolation;  
To own Me in 〈◊〉 despicable Case  
You blushed not, but by, your high Narration  
Of what Love 〈◊〉 to relieve my mart,  
Endeavoured to cheer my drooping Heart,   

57  
Well I remember how I then forgot  
Myself and you; how dead and cold I lay  
Before that flaming News, which might have shot  
Life into any Soul but mine; away  
I turned my foolish head from that which through  
A thousand Deaths would run after now.   

58.  
For o my indefatigable Friend,  
I feel your sweetness thrilling in my Heart;  
Which there with Charis Intluence doth blend,  
And a new Soul unto my Soul impart:  
Forbid it Heav n, my Mind should e'er forget  
Thee, who hast helped to raise and double it.   

59  
When Earth denies her Vapours to repay  
To Heaven whose Bounty sent her down the 〈◊〉  
When Fountains bid their posting Curronts stay,  
Whose Thanks were slowing to their mother 〈◊〉  
When Building, scorn their friendly 〈◊〉  
Will then neglect thy 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉   

〈◊〉  
In this 〈…〉  
Then Words and Kills sweetly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Till the 〈…〉  
Which common Mortals 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
 
  

61.  
And now her high and holy business she  
Performed no more with cold and fruitless pains;  
But mounting up with cheerly Fervency,  
Reaped, in the middle of her Work, its Gains;  
For now she knew her Prayers welcomed were  
Into her Spouse's ready open Ear.   

62.  
Phylax, mean while by heavens appointment flew  
To learn her Parents fortunes out: which He  
No sooner full, sow, but fired with new  
Excess of Joy, he back returned, when she  
From her Devotions rose, and thus displayed  
His blessed Message to the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

63.  
News Psyche, happy News, for now I come  
From holy Valour's Scene, that signal Place  
Where thy Uranius his brave Martyrdom  
Of late atcheiv'd, and finished his Race  
That Race thou fear'dst had been too hard for thy  
〈◊〉 Parent's limping 〈◊〉   

64.  
But at the Stake I found them Both, where they  
Before the face of Heaven and Earth to thy  
Sole charge that Resolution did lay  
Which fired them to contemn those Flames; for by  
Our Daughter's Zeal, said they, this sacred heat  
In our old froazen fearful Veins doth beat.   

65.  
That heavenly Answer from the Dungeon she  
Gave to our cruel kindness. though with shame  
It sent Us weeping home; yet instantly  
Those causeless tears it dried by this flame  
Of Christian courage, whilst admonished by  
Our second thoughts, our first we did defy.   

66.  
And Heaven require her wheresoe'er she be  
Who, whilst we tempted her idolise,  
Did nobley fright Us from Idolatry,  
And reach Us how We safelier might 〈◊〉  
Both Life and Death, than Jesus, who alone  
Holds over both supreme Dominion.   

67.  
Then let Him show it now, the Solaiers' 〈◊〉  
Kindling the Pile, and shouting loud, that they  
In spite or Darkness, thus could turn the Tide  
Of Night, by Christian Bonfires, into Day,  
O Blessed pair! said I, who in a new  
Marriage thus joined are, and hither 〈◊〉.   

68  
So Phylax spoke. When Psyche ravished by  
This unexpected Bliss, could not contain  
The pious Fountain of her joyful Eye,  
Nor her Tongues sweeter stronger streams restrain;  
Abundant Tears she shed, yet larger far  
Her thanks to Jesus, and her Praises were.   

69.  
But as she oft had wearied been before  
With heavinesses mighty Burden; so  
Surcharged now with joys exuberant store  
She laid her down in sweet submission to  
This pleasing load, and sunk into the deep  
But soft untroubled Gulf of do why sleep.   

70.  
When Charis, upon whose eternal Eye  
No Slumber ever creeps, begun a new  
And heavenly work; for with Activity  
About Imagination's Orb she flew,  
And culled and cropped those Fancies here and there  
Which for her purpose serviceable were.   

71.  
Thus furnished with all Materials, she  
In the fair Theatre of Psyche's Breast  
By orderly Degrees the Gallantry  
Of her incomparable Pageant dressed:  
She first reared up a goodly Throne, which might  
Outvie the Hyperborean Snow in White.   

72.  
Forthwith she placed on this royal Seat  
A Prince who gave more Beauty unto it;  
No Monarch ever in more awful State  
On his imperial Chair of Gold did sit:  
Indeed all Potentates but shadows be  
To this authentic Sovereign's Majesty.   

73.  
His copious Robe down from his Shoulders flowed  
Unto his Feet, with streams of gracefulness;  
A Girdle of illustrious Gold, which owed  
Its birth not unto Earth, but Heaven, did kiss  
And closely hug his blessed Paps, which yet  
In goodly Richnes' far outshined it.   

74.  
No 〈◊〉 labour ever made so white  
The finest Wool, as was his daintier Hair,  
Which poured down the 〈◊〉 of its bright  
And Silken Curls with curious careless Care  
About his Alabaster Neck, which stood  
Like a white Pillar in that Snowy 〈◊〉.   

75.  
As in their venerable Sockets on  
The sacred Altar glorious Tapers flame,  
So looked his Eyes; whose reverend Beams alone  
About the Temple of his Face did stream,  
And made his Countenance like the Suns, when he  
Is a wfull in his Highnoon clarity.   

76.  
The most refin'd Corinthian Brass, which in  
The bosom of the slaming Furnace lies,  
Doth not with more illustrious l error shine,  
Than from his burning Feet of Glory sties.  
Thus was this radiant King from Foot to Head  
With supreme Majesty embellished.   

77.  
Innumerable Angels than she brought  
To furnish out his Court and fill his Train;  
These all their Stations took as quick as Thought,  
And with their golden Trumpets in a strain  
Which through the roused Universe rebounded,  
The glory of their mighty Sovereign founded.   

78.  
But his bright Standard to the open Air  
She poured out, in which embroidered stood  
Most dreadfully illustrious and fair  
His Arms imperial, stained all with Blood:  
For 'twas his Cross, encompassed now with more  
Notorious Honour, than with Shame before.   

79.  
As thus he sat triumphant on his Throne,  
He lifted up his Face, and looked about:  
Straight way the frighted Earth began to run  
From his intolerable Eyes; the stout  
And hardy Rocks felt their hearts split for Dread.  
The proudest Hills and Mountains trembling fled.   

80.  
The Spheres above his Aspects Power felt,  
And breaking off their losty Harmony,  
In Dissolutions Tears began to melt:  
The Sun and Stars, abashed now to see  
There was no need of them by Day or Night.  
Fell headlong down, and choked their own Light.   

81.  
Yet in this 〈◊〉 haste, the Sea and Land  
Were inindefull of their Faith, and honestly  
Resrored the Pledges which into their Hand  
Were put by Fate, Sin, and Mortality  
Giving up punctually a true and just  
Account of every Drain of Humanc 〈◊〉   

82.  
Forth with Corruption started from the Heap  
Of Ashes, and fled after Earth and Sea;  
When lo the Mass threw off its deadly sleep,  
And waked into Life's Activity:  
Each Peice awaked, and nimbly rose, and showed  
For one cold Heap, a vigorous Multitude.   

83.  
Adam and Eve, the Springs of all the rest,  
Stood in the Front: on whom attended all  
The Senior World. Then Noah forward pressed,  
Who reimpeopled this whole shipwrackd Ball;  
And after Him, the Tribes and Nations which  
Their Colonies through all the Earth did reach.   

84.  
Not one was missing who did ever draw  
The breath of Life, and see the Face of Light:  
But now the proudest bore his head as low  
As did the poorest and ignoblest wight:  
This Day had razed such Distinctions out,  
And all into one Size and Measure brought.   

85.  
Those whom their tedious Age had bowed down  
Unto their brisker years were called back;  
And those who in their Bud were cropped, and thrown  
Into untimely Graves, did nothing lack  
Of fulgrown and accomplished vigour, which  
Fixed all and every one in equal pitch.   

86.  
And yet so different their Conditions were,  
That now the ready Angels, who attended  
Their Sovereign's Beck, with quick unerring Care  
Parted the crowd which was together blended;  
With his right-hand the harmless Sheep they graced,  
But at his left the stinking Goats they placed.   

87.  
Psyche rejoyeed her Parents here to see  
Ranked on the Dexter Wing: But fuller was  
Her holy Exultation, when she  
Perceived her own 〈◊〉 had the grace  
There to be marshaled; for though the sleep,  
Her waking Soul at the sweet Omen leap.   

88  
When lo, as thus her Hopes and Joys 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
At this illustrious Spectacle; before  
The Throne two Books of vast 〈◊〉  
Were open flung: No volumes ever bore  
So huge a bulk as these, which written be  
With the where world's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

89.  
The one was black as Horrors darkest Face,  
The Book of Death, writ with the Ink of Hell,  
Wherein each Word some foul Transgression was  
Scored upon their Accounts who did rebel  
Against their Bliss, and needs would labour to  
Attain Vexation, and Themselves undo.   

90.  
The other was as fair, as this was foul,  
The 〈◊〉 Book of Life, whose Words did shine  
Clearer than those, bright Notes which make the Scroul  
Of Heaven appear so glorious and divine;  
For here each Line doth part of God express  
Charactered in his Servants Holiness,   

91.  
There blessed Leaves the King no sooner read,  
But to the Right-hand Troop he turned his Eye.  
Which with Majestic Sweetness prefaced  
Unto there Words: Come Ye, whose Piety  
Is by my 〈◊〉 Benediction grown  
Mature, and of full Age to wear its Crown:   

92.  
Come take your full Possession with Me  
Of that fair Kingdom, whose Foundations were  
Laid upon stable Perpetuity  
Long e'er the Earth sunk down beneath, long e'er  
The Air and Fire grew light and upward fled  
Long e'er the Curtains of the heavens were; spread.   

93.  
For in this faithful Register I see  
Your brave Deserts recorded full and fair:  
When I exposed was to Misery  
Your pious Charity made Me your Heir;  
The Debt I here acknowledge, and to Day  
The Principal and Use. I must repay.   

94.  
Then turning to the gloomy Book, and to  
The other Company which stood aghast,  
With frowns of kill Wrath He 〈◊〉 Go  
Ye cursed Brood, 〈◊〉 Evidence hath Cast  
You all; these Leaves 〈◊〉 Witness bear,  
For all your 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 staring here.   

95.  
〈◊〉 Eyes no 〈◊〉 would afford to Me  
When 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Nakedness  
Called for 〈◊〉: and strict Equity  
Now 〈◊〉 up 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 your due 〈◊〉:  
Go, 〈…〉 for, take  
〈…〉 Lake.   

〈◊〉  
The 〈…〉  
With 〈…〉 Pride  
Which flamed 〈…〉 fight  
When 〈…〉 tried:  
For you 〈…〉  
Have 〈…〉   

〈◊〉  
The Adamantine Sentence thus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
The courteous Angels with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Joy  
Upon the Saints their dear Embrace 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 this their Coronation Day;  
And joined then their Tongues with them to 〈◊〉  
〈…〉 to their gracious King.   

98.  
But as this Melody was sweet and 〈◊〉:  
So were the Yell horrid, which 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
The throats and bosoms of that Company  
〈…〉 were;  
For thousand 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 about them flew,  
And in 〈…〉 threw.   

99  
But dressed in more 〈◊〉 Array  
Than ever see infernal Hae deformed,  
Their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 on them did lay  
Their 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 Wrath, all 〈◊〉  
With 〈…〉 their Breafts  
And 〈…〉 did 〈◊〉   

100  
When on the sudden the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Opening its Mouth, and gaping for its Prey,  
The first fruits of their flames on them old spit,  
And warned the Fiends to hasten them away  
To their full Harvest O what Tongue can tell  
The Anguish which now on these Wretches fell!   

101.  
Upon their shreiking Throats, and frighted Hair  
Damnation's Sergeants clapped their flaming Paws:  
Whilst other Officers, who furnished were  
With Whips of 〈◊〉 Snakes, and Harpies Claws  
Lashed them so sore, that they made haste to Hell  
In hopes that lesser Torments there did dwell.   

102.  
Down plunged this mixed 〈◊〉, which almost 〈◊〉  
The greedy 〈◊〉 of the 〈◊〉 Deep:  
Loud was the Noise of this 〈◊〉 Fall, but yet  
Far 〈◊〉 was 〈…〉  
Eternal 〈◊〉 still 〈◊〉 and  
  

103.  
The hasty Fire soon flew upon this Feast,  
And with unbounded Riot gormandised;  
Resolving thenceforth never more to Fast,  
Nor yet with all this store to be sufficed;  
But oft it gaped and belched, whence upward broke  
Black volumes of contagious stink and smoak   

104.  
About the Brink some Devil's hankerd still;  
So did two Monsters far more foul than they  
Thin ghastly Death, and poisonous Sin; until  
The King designed an Angel them to slay,  
Who threw them headlong down the Pit; for this  
And this alone, eternal Slaughter is.   

105.  
That done: the Sentence firm and sure to make,  
Upon the Caves wide Mouth his Seal he set:  
A Seal which no reluctancy can break,  
For his Omnipotence had tempered it  
Of such a Mixture, that Eternity  
Itself, as soon as that, shall brittle be.   

106.  
The Saints and Angels seeing nothing now  
But Joy, and Life, and Bliss, and Holiness;  
Themselves before the conquerors Throne did throw  
Meekly ambitious jointly to express  
Their Thanks and Praise in a triumphant Song,  
Whence all the World with Hallelujahs rung.   

107.  
When lo, a Flood of new and gorgeous Light  
Came sweetly pouring down, and changed the Scene;  
Which swallowed up the former Pageant quite,  
For nothing now but Claritude was seen.  
This fetched a sigh from Psyche, who had viewed  
With hearty joy that holy Multitude.   

108.  
But Charis quickly her again did cheer,  
For by her speedy skill she instantly  
A wondrous City on the stage did rear,  
Whose beauty so enamoured Psyche's Ey,  
That she was sad no longer for the Change,  
But joyed about the spectacle to range.   

109.  
Square was the City, for it was the Seat  
Of everlasting Firmitude; and this  
Substantial Figure which itself doth meet  
In every equal Angle, tied is  
Sure to itself: but the Round rolling World  
Alas, before, was into Nothing hurled   

110.  
The Fabric of the Wall was fair and high,  
Much higher than the proudest Battlement  
Of the old heavens, whose lofty Majesty  
Down unto Mortal Eyes such wonder sent:  
For they were but the Type and shade of this,  
Which Heaven of heavens, and Crest of glory is.   

111.  
And correspondent was it mighty Base  
Unto that Height, for upon twelve Foundations  
All most unmoved, it erected was:  
No wonder that it fears no Perturbations,  
No wonder that this only City is  
Of Peace and Quiet the Metropolis.   

112.  
The first Foundation is of Jasper green,  
For Florid must this Building ever be:  
The next of Sapphire, in whose face are seen  
The proper Lines of heavenly clarity;  
Astone which doth corroborate the Heart,  
And friendly help to Chastity impart.   

113.  
The third of Starlike Chalcedonie, which  
Upon the Sapphir's Region being set,  
With Constellations doth it enrich:  
A cheerly Gem is this, and scorns to let  
The tedious insulations of Fear,  
Or of Disconsolation to draw near.   

114.  
The fourth of Emerald, of Lust the true  
And constant Foe, and of all Poisons too:  
The fifth of Sardonyx, of blushing hue;  
The sixth of Sardie, antidore of Woe,  
Quickener of Wit: The seventh of Chrysolite,  
Which Melancholie's Mists away doth fright.   

115.  
The eight of Berill, rich in modest grace;  
The nineth of Topaz, full of flaming Gold  
Which dares out-look black Night: Of Chrysoprase  
The tenth, of kin unto the former's mould:  
The next the cordial Jacinth, and the last  
The sober and the healthful Amethyst.   

116.  
On these Foundations stood engraven fair  
Twelve honoured Names, the Names of them who spread.  
The gentle Lamb's Religion every where,  
And stones to build this City gathered  
From every Soil, and from the furthest Shores  
On which the barbarous Ocean foams and roars.   

117.  
As Psyche reached her Wonder round about  
This gallant Structure, she on every side  
Three goodly Gates, of which each One was wrought  
Out of a single massy Perl, espied:  
With these did LOVE keep open House, and all  
The East, and West, the North and South did call.   

118.  
Invited therefore thus, She entered in,  
Where paved all with Gold she found the Street,  
With Gold not of our earthly Metals kin,  
But of a purer nobler Breed, and meet  
To kiss the Feet of Saints, it being as  
Tralucid as the fairest virgin Glass.   

119.  
But strait a purer Thing than that she met,  
A River all of living Crystal, which  
Came smiling down the Street; and over it  
A multiplying Tree its Arms did reach  
From either side, whose Twigs though sound and strong,  
Bowed with the blessed Fruit which on them hung.   

120.  
Twelve Sorts of Fruits it duly bore, and yet  
Failed not each Month again to Bud and Blow;  
Such endless Vigour reigned all over it,  
That to its smallest Leaves it did allow  
More Virtue than Arabia's Spices had,  
Or all the famous Balm of Gilead.   

121.  
They never were applied to the Wound  
Of any Nations, but forthwith from Pain  
Released they were, and rendered whole and Sound,  
When Humane Surgery had striven in vain.  
O noble Tree! whose very Shadow is  
Th' eternal Roof of sure substantial Bliss.   

122.  
Under these verdant Boughs, and on this shore  
Of flowing Life, walked Psyche to descry  
The Spring which was the Mother to such store  
Of pure and ever-reeming Suavity:  
When lo a glorious Throne she spied, from whence  
Gushed out these vivid Blisse's Influence.   

123.  
A Throne of pure and solid Splendour framed,  
On which the Sovereign of Immensity  
With such intolerable Brightness flamed,  
That none of all the purest Standards by  
Could with Cherubick or Seraphic Eyes  
His vast 〈◊〉 comprise.   

124.  
But at his Right Hand, mitigated by  
His Marriage with poor Flesh, did sit the Lamb,  
Whose spotless Fleece was sweetened Majesty  
Whose Sceptre with Love's gentle Rays did stream,  
Whose Hand to pour his Blessings forth, was spread,  
Whose Crown was Honour wreathed about his head.   

125.  
From his fair Eyes flowed that eternal Day  
Which all this new Jerusalem doth gild;  
No other Phoebus needed to display  
Himself upon this Region, which was filled  
With clear enlivening Fires that did 〈◊〉  
And make even gross and mortal Eyes Divine.   

126.  
Here Psyche clearly saw those things which she  
Before by Logos, her Embassader,  
Descried at distance and imperfectly:  
Gods naked Attributes were marshaled here,  
Deep Mysteries in one another wove,  
Infinitudes, and Miracles of Love.   

127.  
Here vast oraculous Profundities,  
And wondrous Words from Wisdoms Lips she heard;  
Such Words as taught her where the Reason lies  
Why God himself doth wear the Name of Word;  
Words raised to so sovereign a Pitch  
As mortal Tongues must never hope to reach.   

128.  
Here she beheld how from Divinity  
Beatitude its glorious Self displayed,  
And unto all the holy Company  
It's unexhausted Influence conveyed;  
For Millions of Millions at hand  
With meek Attendance on the Lamb did stand.   

129.  
Right gallant was the Equipage in which  
They were disposed: That symmetrious Grace  
Which round about the World itself did reach,  
To this far fairer ordered State gave place,  
When, guilty only of itself, it slunk  
Aside, and into Inanition sunk.   

130.  
Never was Grecian or Roman Court  
(Though Fame had trumpetted their Praises high,  
Contrived in such wise Majestic Sort  
As this, Perfections own Polity,  
Which by one universal Spirit doth move,  
And by no Laws is governed, but Love.   

131.  
All Saints and Angels knew their proper place,  
And lov d it best because it was their own:  
Among them all no difference there was  
Of Inclinations, for each one had thrown  
His Will down at his Sovereign's Footstool, and  
Own'd no Desires but only his Command.   

132.  
In him they lived, and loved, and joyed, and by  
That Resignation received were  
Into some Portion of Divinity:  
For Jesu's Fullness had enough to spare,  
Nor was his Diadem diminshed, though  
To all of Them their Crowns he did allow.   

133.  
They all were Crowned, and yet not flattered  
With 〈◊〉 and empty Sovereignty:  
So wide the Circuit of this Glory spread,  
That All with boundless Bounds it did supply;  
This Reaim of Bliss, of Kingdoms was the Spring,  
And every Subject made a mighty King.   

134.  
For what was proper unto every One,  
Proved the Joy and Riches of the Rest:  
That supreme Diadem which flamed upon  
The Head of Jesus, fully was possessed  
Of all this Multitude, for bounteous He  
Did lay in Common all Propriety.   

135.  
Thus whatsoever Honour decks the Brow,  
Or Consolation smileth in the Heart;  
Its beams are not confined there, but flow  
With Brotherly Affection to each Part,  
That the whole Body may engaged be  
To make a private Comfort, public Glee.   

136.  
And yet these so united Spirits were  
By several Stations distinguished:  
Nine blessed Orders were divided there,  
Which in three Hierarchik Classe's did  
Conjoin again, and by their single Three  
Thrice imitate th' eternal Trinity.   

137.  
With these the Saints did intermixed reign  
And filled the Places of those Spirits who  
Hoping against their Maker to maintain  
Their sturdy Stomaches, into Arms did go;  
But overwhelmed by his Almighty Tide,  
Their Rheum only gained by their Pride.   

138.  
By that proportion of Humility  
And holy Love, they practised here below,  
The Measures of their Recompense, the high  
And righteous King of Bounty did bestow:  
Which, though they in degrees much difference showed,  
Yet every One enjoyed Plenitude.   

139.  
So when a thousand Vessels, great and small,  
Into the Sea are thrown, though some receive  
More of the Ocean far than others, All  
Are filled brim full; nor can the Lesser grieve  
Their brethren's fairer Amplitude to see,  
Since they no fuller than the Smallest be.   

140.  
But how to blazon these bright Honours, how  
To sound this boundless Sea of equal Pleasures,  
How to compute this vast Account, and know  
The Total Sum of perfect Blisse's Treasures,  
Posed their highest strength and deepest Wit,  
Who were infeofed and possessed of it.   

141.  
Yet all the Homage which they paid for this  
Supremacy of Glory, was to Praise,  
Admire, and Love, and Bless, and Chant out His  
Eternal Name and Fame, who then did raise  
To this Capacity of Exulation.  
O blessed Life! whose Task is Acclamation.   

142.  
Through this illustrious Maze of Joy and Bliss  
As Psyche laboured, and seemed to be  
In heaven afresh at every Step; by this  
Unwearied Quires Heroic Paeans she  
Perceived the entertainment near as high  
Which cheered her Ear, as that which filled her Eye.   

143.  
And now her Wonder could endure no Rein,  
She sacrificed her Soul to Ecstasy;  
When lo the Seraphs Pipes let fly a Strain  
Of holy Triumph so exceeding high,  
That starting at the mighty Song she shaked  
Her precious Dream insunder, and awaked.   

144.  
As when unhappy Adam was expelled  
Out of the Scene of Bliss, sweet Paradise,  
And on the sudden all the World beheld  
Planted with desolate thorny Miseries;  
Aghast He looked, his woeful Hands he wrung,  
And sighed and sobbed to think whence he was flung:   

145.  
So Psyche having lost this glorious Sight,  
And ravishing Music, (which perplexed Her  
In sweet confufion, for by this Delight  
She tempted was to wish herself all Ear,  
By that, entirely Eye; or else that she  
Could teach her Eyes to Hear, her Ears to See,)   

146.  
Surprised was with lamentable Fright  
To see the gross face of Mortality,  
To see the glaring Beams of Nature's Light,  
To see herself on her poor Pallet lie  
So far removed from Blisse's royal Sphere,  
That on dull Earth She still was grovelling here.   

147.  
Alas, She cried what injury have I  
Done unto Sleep that it should mock me thus?  
To have me up unto the glorious Sky  
Why should my Dreams be so industrious,  
If by so sudden a defection They  
Me back unto this Deep meant to betray?   

148.  
Unhapp Life! which, whilst we are Awake:  
With nothing else but Dreams dost fill our Eyes:  
The burly Show this Mortal World doth make  
Is but a puffed Bulk of Vanities,  
Where whilst we hope substantial Worth to find,  
We mocked are with foolish empty Wind.   

149.  
But when by Sleep We robbed are of more  
Than half ourselves, and in Death's Emblem lie,  
Then only dost thou suffer Us to sore  
To solid Joys; which yet being carried by  
Our Dreams faint Wings, by them betrayed be,  
And soon forget their own Solidity.   

150.  
Deceitful Sleep, which wear'st the Name of Rest,  
Why wilt Thou never make it good to Me?  
Why was I with thy highest Favours blest,  
If they must only torture Waking Me?  
Why Slept I, if I needs must Wake, and miss  
By setting open mine Eyes, my Sight of Bliss?   

151.  
Phylax, who all this while with piercing Eye  
Dived through her Bosom, and Spectator was  
How Charis ordered all that Pageantry  
Which through his Pupils wondering Soul did pass,  
Stopped with a Kiss that tide of Grief which ran  
From her complaining Lips; then thus began:   

152.  
To Joy this Morning sacred is, my Dear:  
If thine Eyes bottles Thou wouldst rightly spend,  
On Sorrow lavish not the Smallest Tear,  
But all thy Streams to Exultation lend.  
Thy Dream has not deceived Thee; all was true  
Which it displayed to thine admiring View.   

153.  
It is enough that Heaven doth condescend  
To Act itself aforehand unto Thee;  
Nor canst thou think thy Saviour doth intend  
To put Thee off with this: No; royal He  
Prepares thine Eyes by this short glimpse of Bliss  
Henceforth to See its endless bright Excess.   

154.  
In patience then thine humble Soul possess;  
For sure this prize is worth thine Expectation,  
Although it should attended be till this  
Firm World grows Weak, & stoops to Consummation:  
Time at its utmost Tether cannot be  
More than a Span unto Eternity.   

155.  
Eternity is that which shall enhance  
Beatitude, and crown its Diadems:  
In hopes of which, do thou thy Soul advance  
And never troubled be to think that Dreams  
Which on thin Fancy their Foundation lay  
Are fickle fluid Things, and start away.   

156.  
Courageous Friend, the Maid to this replied,  
Brave is the Metal of thy sprightful Heart,  
Which easily beats back all Misfortune's Tide,  
And can the Streams of Grief to Joy convert:  
Full well those cheerly Looks with thee do suit,  
Who all my Loss canst with a Smile confute.   

157.  
But I cannot do so; Mischances throw  
Their own upon my Smiles, with high disdain;  
My deep Passivity will not allow  
Me any Art or Power to maintain  
A fight with Sufferings so as not to feel  
The Wound, when in my Heart I find the Steel.   

158.  
It is but lately since unhappy I  
Was quite lost in the Mist of Desolation;  
And heavy was that blind Calamity  
Which did both muffle up my Contemplation,  
And clip those Wings that had been used before  
Unto the Pinnacles of Heaven to sore.   

159.  
But now her Eyes again unmaked are,  
And unto their full length her Feathers grown;  
No sooner I in heavens illustrious Sphere  
Or read, or fly, but I am tumbled down,  
And by my journey (to complete my Cross)  
No Profit reap, but Knowledge of My Loss.   

160.  
O I acquit my Dream from the least Gild  
Of fairfaced Fraud; in every blessed Part  
The genuine Pulse of Truth I clearly felt  
Beating right time with my exultant Heart.  
I would not have it false for Heaven, and yet  
It's being true begetteth this regret.   

161.  
For had it not been the unfeigned Scene  
Of brave Beatitude in full Display;  
Without this stinging Torment that had been  
Snatched from Me, or I from that, away:  
But now what Comfort can breathe Me Content,  
When from my Heart, my Heart itself is rend!   

162.  
If Lucifer had never walked upon  
Complete Felicities transcendent Stories,  
If He had never viewed heavens radiant Throne,  
And sweet Eternity's excessive Glories;  
His Loss had finite been; he had not fell  
So low as now, nor had his Hell been Hell.   

163.  
I might have dwelled contented in dull Night  
Had I not known and seen Lives royal Day;  
These rotten Rags of Dust and Ashes might  
Have pleased Me, had not the bright Array  
Which clothe's the Saints with Immortality  
Been open thrown before my mortal Eye.   

164.  
Yon Phoebus, who with Virgin Gold doth gild  
The Morning's cheeks, I might with some Delight  
Have gazed on; if I had not beheld  
The far more Sunlike Eyes of Jesus, bright  
With Bliss, and Love, and Joy, and every Thing  
Which can become the Looks of Glories King.   

165.  
Then since I fully understand my Loss;  
O do not envy Me, sweet Guardian, leave  
Not to be fond stupid; do not cross  
My course of Woe, who have such cause to grieve;  
For Grief their Daughter's only Dowry is,  
Whilst my dear Parents reign in joyous Bliss.   

166.  
These Words with such commanding Passion she  
On facile Phylax blew, that he gave way:  
Yet, prudent as he was, and piercing, He  
Observed how wisely Love his Plot did lay,  
And that for his sweet Psyche he this kind  
Of softest-hardest Martyrdom designed.   

167.  
But Charis, (who still in her Breast did lie,)  
Although the blessed Dream had taken Wing,  
Yet on the Tables of her Memory  
Fairly transcribed and fastened every thing;  
There shined the total Apparition still,  
And all her Thoughts With Ravishment did fill,   

168.  
With Ravishment, which proved fuel to  
Her ancient Fire of Love; a fire which now  
Flashed resolutely out, and feasted so  
On this vast Banquet, which did always flow  
With fresh Infinitude upon it, that  
The flames all Bridles and all Bounds forgot.   

169.  
Like Wax which flows before the Summer's Sun;  
So in the presence of this scorching Heat  
Her Bowels melted, and her Heart did run  
About her bosom, labouring to get  
Releasement from this Furnace: but in vain;  
Heaven still to her Sweet Torment her did chain.   

170.  
In dainty Agony She lay and fried,  
Till from her Lips at last the Flame did break;  
And unto Phylax thus aloud she cried:  
O why to Persecutions gentler Stake  
Was I not bound; why might I not expire  
In the mild bosom of that courteous Fire!   

171.  
That Fire would soon have drunk up all my Breath.  
And into Ashes parched my Life; but this  
Plays with my Pangs, and freshly Furnisheth  
My fainting Heart with passive vigorousness;  
This, woeful Immortality doth give,  
Unto my Dust, and teacheth Death to live.   

172.  
Nor Aetna's, nor Vesuviu's bowels were  
E'er gravid with such teeming Flames, as mine;  
Should Humber, Thames and Severn, by thy Care  
Their everflowing Mouths together join,  
And empty out themselves upon my Heart,  
Alas they could not quench my burning Smart.   

173.  
Nay flatter Me not with thy smiling Eye;  
Compassion, is the utmost Thou canst lend  
He, he, alone can cure my Malady  
Who did to Me this flaming Fever send.  
If thou canst hasten down His help, o do;  
〈◊〉 tell Me when he will 〈◊〉 my Woe   

174.  
The Angel, who her blessed Sickness knew,  
Had now no longer power to pity Her  
Into Invisibility He flew,  
That her Seraphic pains might domineer,  
And she, being left alone, might sooner prove  
The 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

175.  
But yet her modest tender Jealousy  
Could not interprest his Discession see;  
She feared that by indecent Passion she  
Had urged his Patience, and forced Him to  
Withdraw, till hasty she grew Calm again,  
And fir his 〈◊〉 to entertain   

176.  
This made her cheek her boiling Fervour by  
Deep Recollection of her Spouses Will  
She knocked her Breast which first made its Renly  
In sighs and groans, then in these words O still  
This tumult of my Soul dear Lord whose 〈◊〉  
Doth all my Bosom in Combustion set   

〈◊〉  
Although my longed-for Union with 〈◊〉  
Be dearer than a thousand Lives; 〈◊〉  
Desire and Languor all my Essence 〈◊〉  
Till to 〈◊〉 of thee I grow:  
Yet since thy Will prolongs my Banishment  
From Heaven and thee, (peace heart) I am conten.   

178.  
I am content: For All I Am. is Thine  
The freedom of thy Pleasure use on Me  
If I thine Arrows smartest Dint decline  
Then sav I loved myself, but loved not Thee;  
Upon this Heart pour all thine amorous 〈◊〉  
And slay Me, if thou wilt, from Morn to 〈◊〉   

179.  
But it I still must live this Death, 〈◊〉  
I live it unto Thee, and Thee 〈◊〉  
O let some hard heroic Task 〈◊〉  
This Fervors edge which thou hast 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
My ravished Soul, that being 〈◊〉  
May less perceive the Flames in 〈◊〉   

180.  
Shall I to Perfecutions Court, and there  
Erect thy Standard in the Tyrant's Face?  
Shall I her Racks and Arts of Torture dare?  
Her Altars and her Gods down shall I raze?  
Against her Proclamations shall I  
〈◊〉 the Pleasure of thy 〈◊〉   

181.  
Shall all the Bruises, Wounds, Boils, Sores and Pains,  
Shall every Grief, Distemper, Malady,  
Shall all the Hunger's, Thirsts, and Stripes, and Chains,  
Which through the whole World the sad Portion be  
Of thine abused patient Members, join  
  

182.  
Shall I he 〈◊〉 the Hate of Man and Beast?  
Shall I 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and kicked round about  
〈…〉 shall I be pressed  
 
Of 〈◊〉 and Furies, and be dragged through  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 where torments in their kingdom grow   

183.  
Surely 〈◊〉 this, and more for thy dear sake  
To whom I owe it, I could well sustain  
Speak then o most deserving Soveraing, speak,  
And by some sufferings mitigate my pain  
Set Me my hardy Task. that I may prove  
On 〈◊〉 Terms how much I love thy Love   

184.  
Thus nanted loval she till tired by  
Her Fervors high Intention. she descendea  
Into herself again: But instantly  
That strong Combustion she hoped was ended,  
Met her amidst her Breast, and did conspire  
As 〈◊〉 as ever by inflamed Desire.   

185.  
By Resignation to her Spouse sne 〈◊〉  
To quench it; but in vain: Still Day by Day  
Herself 〈◊〉 rouna in amorous 〈◊〉 wasted,  
And waking Night by Night, and longing lay  
For whilit 〈◊〉 from place to place, to win  
Some ease, 〈◊〉 bore her Torment 〈◊〉 within   

186.  
 
 
 
 
 
  

187.  
So did her testless Memerie to Her  
The beauteous Wonders of her Dream object,  
With all Beatitudes bright Furniture:  
In vain her Eyes she studied to deflect,  
Which were in every Corner crossed by this  
〈◊〉 of strange importunate Bliss.   

188.  
When 〈◊〉 Prayers she went, she could not Pray,  
〈◊〉 and Amazement straight were crowding in:  
When to her Book she went, she could not say.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 stopped her as she did begin:  
When to her Psalms she went, she could not sing,  
〈…〉 in her Fars did ring.   

189.  
When 〈◊〉 her Meat she went, she could not Eat,  
The 〈◊〉 of endless Life her thoughts took up;  
When to the Fountain of her Drink, the sweet  
〈◊〉 of Heaven her Course and Thirst did stop:  
When to her sleep, she was disturbed by  
The 〈◊〉 Rest of Fternity.   

190.  
The dear Remembrance of her Soverdign Lord  
Boiled in her Soul, and would not slaked be:  
So that while tortured she could not afford  
Unto her Body, what Necessity  
Crav dat her Hands, she faint and feeble grew,  
And by Degrees her Mortal self she slew.   

191.  
She slew her Flesh, which pined and sunk away;  
She slew the Vigour of her Senses, which  
Like unbent Bows, all damped and useless lay:  
But by these Slaughters she did but enrich  
The Life of her afflicted Heart, which still  
With stouter and more active Fire did swell.   

192.  
So high it swelled that what soe'er came near  
The mighty Torrent, straight became its Prey:  
Yea ev n the Bridles too subdned were  
Which still she hoped and strove on it to lay,  
Her Meditations all to Passion turned;  
And whatsoever she Did, or 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉.   

193.  
 
 
In 〈◊〉 unto such a 〈◊〉,  
 
The Sceptie of his 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
  

194.  
〈◊〉, be it of a Thing  
But weak and mortal, and Dust's wretched Heir;  
Doth with immortal Pains and Wishes sting  
And spur the Soul unto unwearied Care:  
Discouragement in vain doth muster up  
All Troops of Obstacles 〈◊〉 way to stop.   

195.  
No, no; the generous Lover's Heart disdains  
Not to approve his Passion infinite;  
With gallant Obstinacy he maintains  
Against the Will of Heaven and Earth, the fight  
〈◊〉 win his Idol; for whose sake, had he  
Ten thousand 〈◊〉, they all should ventured be   

196.  
For in her Image, which He hath enshrined  
High in the 〈◊〉 of his loyal Breast,  
Such Charms and strong Attractions He doth find  
As rob Him of all Power to resist:  
He runs; and in such strange and furious wise,  
That Love is slandered with want of Eyes,   

197.  
The whole World knows how Hamors royal Son  
Scorned his Religion and his foreskin too,  
When Dinah's Love had full possession  
Of his subdued Soul: How David, who  
Was heavens choice Darling, durst heavens Law despise  
For what he read in Bathsheba's fair Eyes,   

198.  
Who hath not heard what Power one Heart 〈◊〉  
Upon two mighty Nations, both content  
For love or her, to run so strangely mad  
Upon a mortal War, whose fury rend  
Up Ilium by the roots; which to the 〈◊〉  
Of Lust, a woeful Holocaust became.   

199.  
No 〈◊〉 then 〈…〉  
With such mtolerable 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
Whose 〈…〉  
〈◊〉 Charms whose royal 〈◊〉  
Draw with 〈…〉  
Outvi'd by 〈…〉   

〈◊〉  
 
 
 
 
 
  

201.  
For all those Wounds bleed nothing else but Fire;  
Fire, which remembering its original Flame,  
With never-wearied struggling doth aspire  
Back to the radiant place from whence it came:  
It's proper Element are Jesu's eyes,  
And thither in heroic Zeal it flies.   

202.  
And what can tortured Psyche do, who by  
This most unruly Heat, to Heaven is haled;  
And yet by Mortal Life's repugnancy  
Fast to her Body, and dull Earth, is sealed?  
What can she do in this Extremity  
Of raging Life and Death at once; but Cry?   

203.  
Hardy and bold she grows in her Complaint;  
For lifting upward her enamoured Eyes,  
Although her sickly Voice were low and faint,  
Yet full of sinews were her serious Cries:  
Which thus she, suiting them unto her Passion,  
Tuned by the stout Key of Expostulation.   

204.  
O Lord of Gentleness, o why dost Thou  
Make Love so cruel to tormented Me!  
Why would thy bounteous Justice not allow  
Me any other Rack, but suavity!  
Why must my Gall be only Honey! why  
Of nothing else but Life must Psyche die!   

205.  
Why didst Thou not permit Me to decease  
When thou hadst left Me to myself alone?  
So had thine Handmaid been reprieved from these  
Extremities of Pangs; so had I gone  
Whole to my Grave, who now must Melted be  
By thine unsufferable Sweets, and Thee.   

206.  
And am I not a Worm, or worse than so?  
Why dost Thou build such Triumph then on Me?  
Why dost thou not pick out some Seraph, who  
With this sublime and blessed Misery  
Might bravely grapple? or why mightst Thou not  
At Phylax's nobler Breast my Dart have shot?   

207.  
O be not angry! 'tis not I that speak,  
But tortured Necessity: my Heart  
A thousand times desired, but cannot break;  
Else had my Lips not dared thus to part  
And open themselves into Complaints: but now  
Excuse together with my Fault doth flow.   

208.  
Not for innumerable Worlds would I  
Have been without that Apparition: but  
Should full as many Worlds their Tyranny  
Combine against my Soul; they could not put  
Me unto any Torture so extreme,  
As the Remembrance of my blessed Dream:   

209.  
In Sweetness why art thou so Infinite!  
Or why must that Infinitude appear  
Unto a Soul, to fire it with Delight,  
If to the Fountain it must not draw near  
To quench its burning Thirst? O Jesus be  
Still what thou art; but then be so to Me.   

210.  
Be so to Me; and o, be so with Speed!  
Death is not Death, compared with Delay.  
Alas one Moment now doth far exceed  
All those long years which I till this sad Day  
Have tediously measured; and now  
I older by an Age, each Minute, grow.   

211.  
Fain fain would I Let thee alone, and be  
Content to wait thy longest Leisure still:  
But o, all-lovely Thou still urgest Me  
And violently dragg'st my Conquered Will.  
Thou dragg'st me; yet wilt not permit that I  
Should follow home to my Felicity.   

212.  
If thou wilt Kill Me, lo I am Content:  
But o, vouchsafe to let my Slaughter be  
By Death, not by this breathing Banishment  
From my best Life, most ameable Thee!  
O pity, pity thy poor Handmaid's Cry,  
Whose Tongue cleaves to her Mouth, whose Throat is dry!   

213.  
Fain would she here have fainted; but her Pain,  
Whose load so heavy on her Shoulders lay,  
With courteous Cruelty helped to sustain  
Her parched Vigour, that it still might pray  
Upon her Patience, and consume her still.  
O strange Disease, which doth by Curing Kill:   

214.  
Phylax, mean while, unseen, perceived that she  
Unto heavens Suburbs was arrived now,  
And that the Springs of her Mortality  
By this high Stretches began to crack: for though  
Herself her Changes Dawn could not descry,  
He saw her final Hour was drawing nigh.   

215.  
This roused his Love in due time to prepare  
For his dear Pupils neverending End:  
About her funeral he took decent Care,  
Because himself could not stay to attend  
Those Rites, when she had once Expired, for he  
Her noble Paranymphus was to be.   

216.  
He was to be her Convoy when she flew  
Unto her royal Spouses marriage Bed:  
This made him dress his Count nance with a new  
Festivity; his Wings this made him spread  
With fresh and snowy Down, that his Lord's Bride  
In that soft Coach of triumph home might ride.   

217.  
And in this joyous Hue to her he came:  
Yet his sweet Presence She regarded not,  
For Burning in her more delicious flame,  
She of all other Things the Sense forgot:  
The Phoenix thus amidst her funeral fires,  
sees nothing else, and nothing else desires.   

218.  
The double Fountain of her Tears was dry,  
Her Groans were weary, and her Languishment  
If self did languish: But her 〈◊〉  
Outrageous grew, and, like a Gyam; bend  
The mighty Bow of her Desires; by which  
The Mark of all her Hopes She was to reach.   

219.  
Then, having bid unto the Earth adieu,  
And firmly fixed her loving longing Eye  
Upon the heavens, to keep her Aim in view;  
Her Flames triumphant Tempest swelled so high,  
That She, unable to contain its Tide,  
With a deep Sigh, cried out, O LOVE, and did.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   
FINIS.   

Correct the Errors of the Press thus: Canto 11. read the 198. Stanza before the 197.  
Canto 1. Stanza. Line. Read, 34. 4 Take 122. 1 Morn. 143. 4 Waken's 152. 1 makes  4 heaving Canto 2. 79. 2 Assistance 110. 3 wroth Canto 3. 69. 3 all ways 97. 6 Fathers   Fames 178. 3 here 190. 4 Flame Canto 4. 25. 2 of an 54. 1 crowned 115 5 Guests Canto 5. 66. 2 An 215. 1 rigid fare Canto 6. 26. 2 hath 〈◊〉. 1 was 113. 4 vales 171. 1 Gate 184. 1 deep set 205. 2 through 226. 6 untrid 248. 6 every 258. 3 Parian 274. 1 through Canto 7. 213. 4 stirred Canto 8. 74. 3 Sorrow's 139. 3 more 157. 5 what 159. 5 Expects 173. 2 of windows 262. 3 grow 283. 5 be cause Canto 9 16. 1 These lend 83. 2 are 97. 5 Brink 112. 3 bestdeserving 123. 2 Devoto's 147. 5 Some time 159. 1 Bows 201. 4 loath 220. 2 fat 225. 6 career 246. 3 where on Canto 10. 85. 1 holier 93. 4 Elxai 107. 5 thy 110. 3 his 118. 5 Sun 125. 3 hand as 160. 2 to Canto 11. 4. 1 the 45. 5 stream 47. 5 fall she 52. 4 Riches 83. 2 piled 144. 4 by 173. 2 it 196. 3 one 197. 2 Lord's Canto 12. 80. 4 deal (?) 157. 4. meet Canto 13 61. 5 deal (?) 211. 3 Ensigns 224. 3 gaping 301. 2 own 314. 3 please these 349. 3 poised 352. 1 least 428. 5 meditating 433. 3 War 442. 4 amorous Canto 14. 15. 4 vanquished 73. 3 prize 78. 2 preys 92. 3 teach 170. 2 own 255. 5 requited 262. 3 his 263. 5 through 288. 2 When 304. 4 fevel Canto 15. 79. 2 Song 132. 2 wept 156. 1 Flood 163. 2 firm persp. 299. 6 Antichrists Canto 16. 36. 6 vessel 72. 1 her 90. 1 skill 112. 4 rammed 127. 3 so Canto 17. 59 5 strict 131. 4 then 183. 3 dirt 311. 4 deal period 324. 1 launcheth Canto 18. 69. 3 Gallantry 87. 6 crocodiles 212. 4 was 273. 6 for Canto 19 54. 4 too 135. 3 Crosses 146. 4 His Canto 20. 101. 4. Harpies