A PARAPHRASE UPON THE CANTICLES, AND SOME SELECT HYMNS OF THE NEW and OLD TESTAMENT, With other occasional Compositions IN English VERSE.  
By Samuel Woodford. D. D.  
LONDON, Printed by J. D. for John Baker, at the three Pigeons, and Henry Brome, at the Gun in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1679.   

TO THE Most Reverend FATHER in GOD WILLIAM, Lord ARCHBISHOP of CANTERBURY, Primate of all ENGLAND, and Metropolitan, And one of his MAJESTY'S most Honourable PRIVY COUNCIL.  
Most Reverend,  
WEre I indeed a greater Master of Verse, than the best of those, whether of our own Countrymen, or Foreigners, whose several manners I have in the following Compositions, endeavoured to imitate, I durst not yet presume to make an humble Present of them to your Grace, unless invited by the Sacredness of the most noble Argument. An Argument so Sacred (as to the greatest part of the Subjects, if not spoiled by my unskilful handling) that it must be ever acknowledged worthy your Grace; and, beside that the best and most refined Spirits of the Christian Church have happily laboured in them, whose Design his late MAJESTY of ever Blessed Memory, was particularly pleased to Encourage and Promote. To attest this, were it either necessary, or pertinent, I might reckon up several Names, not unknown to your Grace, but shall, instead of all, content myself with the generally approved Mr. George Sandy's, who first under so Excellent a Prince, opened the way to Divine Poesy in this Nation, and gave it a more than ordinary Credit; from whose Hands, as not unbecoming His Royal Self, He vouchsafed to accept a short Paraphrase upon the Canticles; not long after the time that the Pious Sieur Godeau had with much success made a Dedication of the same Divine Song, under the Title of Sacred Eclogues, with some few other Religious Stanzas to the great Cardinal Richelieu of France.  
For Honour's sake I here mention the Bishop of Grass, and Mr. Sandy's, and that thereby I may both Apologise for myself, if there be need, and defend the best that I can against the most Censorious and Critical, the affixing your Grace's Name, to the same Canticles, and a few other English Rhymes; of which, for the performance, as being my own, though I have no better opinion than I ought, or than the great Judges of Verse in the Town shall allow they deserve (it may be not so good) yet if, as in the first place in this Dedication, they are intended, they shall serve most humbly to express my Duty without reflection of Dishonour upon your Grace, and be so received, I shall nor wish for myself greater Credit, nor for them a better Recommendation to such as have any gust for Christian Poesy.  
That God Almighty may have your Grace in his perpetual and most merciful Protection, and long, very long continue you an invaluable Blessing to this his best of Churches, is the daily Prayer of  
Hartley Malduit, Hampsh. 1678. Most Reverend, Your Grace's most Humble, most Dutiful, and most Obedient Son, Sam. Woodford.   

Upon a Paraphrase of Salomon's Song, Done by his Worthy Friend, Dr. Samuel Woodford.  
WHilst Thou with Sacred Rage inspired dost Sing  
The Mystic Song of Songs, can Cold Age bring  
An Offering fit? Or, without Fire, devote  
True Zeal to Verse? Or can I tell by rote  
Thy Praises without measure due? Shall I  
Confound Thy Consort then, or Modesty  
Profane in Print? No, let me silent be  
A Monumental Foil to Poetry and Thee.  
Nicholas Stuart. Baronet.   

ODE. To his Honoured Friend Dr. Woodford, On his Excellent Paraphrase of SALOMON'S SONG.  

SO Eastern Spices, and rich Gums send out  
In the warm Limbeck while they pant,  
A precious Vapour spreading all about,  
Which the cold Mass did seem to want;  
But urged with equal heat it up does rise,  
The Active Spirit now more nimbly flies,  
Ascending Balm in Dew distils,  
And far-extended Air with fragrant Essence fills.   

An holy Fire, Woodford, in Thee has raised,  
Numbers so sweet, so rich, and high,  
Methinks I see Thy eager Soul amazed,  
In its blessed lyric Ecstasy,  
Melting away in Stream of fairest Verse;  
Which when to Mortal Ear Thou dost rehearse,  
With purling Noise it seems to move,  
It●s Music Charms th' attending Ear, the Soul it's Love.   

Hail blessed Flame, that didst such Verse inspire!  
And to an humble Heart dispense,  
From the chaste Touch of an Harmonious Lyre,  
Such Angel sounds, such Mystic sense:  
High God of Love's Love unto Man he sings;  
The Spouses choicest Beauties are the Kings:  
Who poured his Blood, here sweetly pours  
His Soul out to his Spouse in these Divine Amours.   

Immortal Love! Cement of this huge Frame,  
Dearest Firstborn of the Mind,  
Who were't become Impure Romance, a Name,  
Thee undebauched where could we find?  
Yet art indeed wise Nature's beauteous Child,  
Till with the Bodies fouler steam defiled;  
Here raised to Soul and Mystery,  
All pure, all holy thou art again, Love travesty.   

Wisest of Kings and Men, was there sent down  
A double Portion of Thy Rage?  
And Heavenly Laurel this chaste Brow to Crown?  
Greater than Men and Kings did engage,  
Thee, happy Wordford, to this lofty Song;  
Touched from his Altar with a Coal thy Tongue:  
Then we, and no profane Thought near,  
May say a greater too than Solomon is Here.   
W. Crown. M. D. Fellow of the College.   

To my dear Old Friend, the Reverend Dr. Samuel Woodford, On his Sacred Rhymes.  

I.  
WELL! since it must be so, so let it be,  
For what do Resolutions signify,  
When we are urged to Write by Destiny?   

II.  
I had Resolved, nay, and I almost Swore,  
My Bedrid Muse should walk abroad no more:  
Alas! 'tis more than time that I give o'er:   

III.  
In the Recesses of a private Breast,  
I thought to entertain your Charming Guest,  
And never to have boasted of my Feast:   

IU.  
But see (my Friend) when through the World you go,  
My Lacquy-Verse must shadowlike pursue,  
Thin, and Obscure, to make a Foil for you.   

V.  
'Tis true, you cannot need my feeble Praise,  
A lasting Monument to your Name to Raise,  
Well-known in Heaven by your Angelique ' Lays.   

VI  
There, in indelible Characters They are writ,  
Where no pretended Heights will easy sit,  
But those of Serious, Consecrated Wit.   

VII.  
By immaterial defecated Love,  
Your Soul it's Heavenly Origin does approve,  
And in least dangerous Raptures soar's above.   

VIII.  
How could I wish (Dear Friend!) unsaid again  
(For once I ranked myself with Tuneful Men)  
Whatever dropped from my unhallowed Pen!   

IX.  
The trifling Rage of Youthful heat, once past,  
Who is not troubled for his Wit misplaced!  
All pleasant Follies breed regret at last.   

X.  
While Reverend Don's, and noble Herbert's Flame,  
A glorious Immortality shall claim,  
In the most durable Records of Fame.   

XI.  
Our Modish Rhymes, like Culinary Fire,  
Unctuous and Earthy, shall in Smoke expire;  
In odorous Clouds your Incense shall aspire.   

XII.  
Let th' Pagan-World your Pious Verse defy—  
Yet shall they envy, when they come to Die,,  
Your Wiser Projects on Eternity.   
Thomas Flatman   

The Reader is desired to Correct the following Errata, which only seem more than ordinary by the distinction of several Columns, disposed so for his greater ease.  

In the Preface.  
Page. Line. For Read. 4 19 Latins, by both of Smectymnuus both which with a piece that thought to give and whereas in of yet which Latines, or by both. against Smectymnuus. both with Rhythms. a piece (speaking only of it as a Poem, but not defending either the Doctrine in all places, or several to me seeming Extravagances) that thought fit to give. and where, as in. of which yet. 13 23   19 10    18   21     14   26 23   29 5     

In the Canticles.  
3 12 unhapyy unhappy. 18 25, 26 unslesht unfletcht. 19 26 be spent besprent.  In the Tittle add se● EPITASIS. 21 7 glim gleam. 24 20 will remember well remember. 26 In the Tit. CATASTASIS DESIDERIUM. 28 17 gaze graze. 35 15 and to. 37 17 wish with. 38 4 whose where 39 13 they We. 40 4 his the  5 the his. 40 12 BELOVED BEHOLD. 45 5 Twin roses Twin- Roes. 61 18 whose Name whose sacred Name. 97 25 But By 107 19 if err yfere. 105 27 Divorce next Causeless Divorce next.   

In the Rhymes.  
16 ult. Land Lands. 21 3 flight-wingd flight winged. 22 15 unheard unhard. 23 23 Land hand. 28 6 and end an end. 31 27 His prayer 'tis prayer. 34 11 Land hand. 35 28 to sell to Hell. 37 15 Sun Son. 41 28 the Court her Court. 53 3 having having. 55 22 no so not so. 59 3 the Jessaan Jesses. 60 4 t' approve to approve. 61 6 blot out be still which is twice repeated. 62 25 perverted prevented. 63 28 will which. 64 2 which Ah! 70 8 here hear. 74 14 who whom.  11 blot out and once. 77 30 awful which which the Son with awful. 79 18 Temple Tempe. 89 19 As life Ah life.  In Titulo And Hymn An Hymn. 94 5 Son Sun. 95 6 wrath Wreath. 98 7 pleads Lord Pleads hard. 101 9 fly Rise 103 20 appointed A pointed. 105 18 these fruits those fruits. 106 25 his foot its foot, at the bottom 1667. 109 25 from when To where. 111 23 Rome of blood Rome of her blood. 113 18 inclined retired. 116 7 Terrace Balcone. 118 6 needs needest. 119 12 As is And as. 120 22 brake break. 123 24 other would others would. 124 25 to be her like That to be like her. 126 In the add Out of Spanish. 127 Marg. blot out Out of Spanish. 126 16 Wondrer Wanderer.  21 resents reputes. 129 17 of what so of what's so.  24 Land Hand. 130 22 many come may come. 136 9 but you self but yourself.  10 made'st made. 137 11 didst did. 141 22 his foot steps her foot steps. 143 7 its breast his breast.  8 in his in its. 144 4 & thy supplies and my supplies.  19 who with him Who wish him. 145 24 well vowed well Rowed. 146 6 has told haste told. 150 18 well showed well thewed. 155 9 The Joys Thy Joys.  12 her Song her Sons. 159 8 And form And formed. 161 1 A'll thou As thou. 164 15 Burghers Burger. 170 13 Approach Approached.  4 ancienter there ancienter there were.) 171 17 has here have here.  2 has tried haste tried. 172 21 Ambitions Ambitious. 173 2 see know.  
Besides other false pointings and omissions of the Marks of Synaeresis and Abbreviations, which the Reader is further desired to amend, with some few literal faults.    

The Preface.  
HAVING some Years since, before my Admission into Holy Orders, in my Preface to the Paraphrase upon the Psalms, discoursed at large concerning Christian Poesy, without resuming that Subject, or prosecuting it any further, I shall here do very little more than give the Reader an account of the following Papers.  
Being therefore very often solicited to Print, what I had by me in Verse, or, if not all, such Rhythms at least, as I thought most proper to my present condition, amongst a great many more, I with difficulty, and but very late resolved upon those, which are now herewith Published, The Song of Solomon, or the Canticles; and other Hymns, directly laid down in Holy Scripture, with some few Compositions more, whose Argument, as to the greatest part of them, is either thence taken, or thither may be referred.  
As for the Canticles, which though almost last done, is put in the first place: I was a long while deterred from attempting its Version, or Paraphrase rather; though often provoked, I often, and with infinite desire thought of it, by the sublimeness of the Subject, and that little acquaintance, which not only myself, I ingenuously confess, but this, and the preceding Ages, I fear, for many Centuries back, have had with the Eastern Poesy; whose manner of Wit seems to be altogether different from ours, and not to be brought under those Laws, which the Greek and Latin, and the Modern from them have assigned Verse. For their Metaphors, as appears in our Prosaic Versions, and especially upon Collation to any who are but reasonably skilled in the Oriental Languages, are extremely bold, their Comparisons, Allusions, and Similitudes such, as we on this side of the World can hardly admit as decent, if at all proportionable; and their Transitions, with frequent shifting of Persons so 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (for I cannot well express it in English, with such large and scarce accountable Breaches) that there lacks a great number of words to be inserted between Period and Period, to render the Coherence tolerable. The not throughly considering this (which yet possibly might be avoided, nor it may be would at all have been, if every Sentence were reduced to its proper place and station, and that there had not been mistakes in transcribing the Original Copies (as some think there have) has been one occasion in my Opinion, that of all the Versions I have met with (either in Greek or Latin, or our own English, and other the Modern Languages of the best esteem) of the Song● by me here ` paraphrased, and particularly of the Canticles, very few are to be reckoned Verse, further than the Character of Number, and Cadence reaches, and fewer yet tolerable Poetry: Bare Translations for the greatest part, but made more uneasy to be read, and much more perplexed, as to the Sense, by the Tortures they have been put to for the Verse, or Rhythms-sake. Among the several other Papers that we have lost of the Excellent and Divine Spenser, one of the happiest Poets that this Nation ever bred, (and out of it the World, it may be (all things considered) had not his Fellow, excepting only such as were immediately Inspired) I bewail nothing methinks so much, as his Version of the Canticles. For doubtless, in my poor Judgement, never was Man better made for such a Work, and the Song itself so directly suited, with his Genius, and manner of Poetry (that I mean, wherein he best shows and even excels himself, His Shepherd's Calendar, and other occasional Poems, for I cannot yet say the same directly for his Fairy Queen designed for an Heroic Poem) that it could not but from him receive the last Perfection, whereof it was capable out of its Original. Others, as I hinted before, have since attempted it, and in English myself now among the rest, but how successfully we must all leave both to those who have skill to judge, and to those who have not to censure, and sit down, having pleased ourselves, (if yet ourselves are pleased) as contented under their Doom as we can; for since we will be Rhythming, and Printing too forsooth, I know no other remedy. I must confess it is a Song above the flight of Mortal Wit, and has been ever looked upon by the Sober and Religious, as the most Noble, though most Mysterious, and difficult part of the Old Testament. There are I know, (but they are but some few I hope) in this, and others there have been, in the last Age, who, though else very Learned, and it is to be charitably supposed truly Pious, without just cause have gone about to question whether it ever intended any more than it expressed, as to the Letter, and by debasing it to that, which it seemed most to sound, Humane Love, to call it no worse, have insinuated at least, (because Theocritus, and some other of the Ancient Greek and Latin Poets, have a few like Phrases in their amorous Compositions, either hence first taken, as the most ancient Original in the kind, and not unknown, as may be conjectured, to the Greeks by the Translation of the LXXII, and by them Communicated to the Latins, by both light upon by chance) that it is unworthy the place where it stands; contrary to the opinion of the Jewish Church, which always had and still has, antiquated, and broken as it is, for it the greatest Reverence; reputed it through all Ages uncontrovertedly Canonical, of Sense purely, and only Mystical, and thereupon proclaimed Solomon, the inspired Author, to be the most Spirituous and Heavenly Interpreter of their Law: And contrary also to the Judgement of the Christian Church, which from our Lord's time downward (and in the beginning of the Seventh Century, if not in the latter end of the sixth, Gregory the Great, piously Commented upon it) has trodden in the same steps, enlarging only, as I may say, the Lines of Communication, and transferring to the Assembly of the Faithful, under the Gospel, what the Jews confined to the Synagogue: Should we understand it only, or even chiefly, if at all according to the Letter, terminating our Conceptions in the bare words, it might very easily become the occasion of Scandal to the unwary Reader; nay, without doubt had been so to the Jews themselves, at its first appearance; the severity of that Nation not allowing in the Female Sex, we may be assured, such open demonstrations of Love, as are more than once there expressed. And this possibly might be one reason, amongst many other to be urged from the Propensity, which is in Youth especially, to that passion, too apt from the least spark to take fire, that this Book, together with the three first Chapters of Genesis, and the beginning, and end of the Prophecy of Ezekiel, from the Fortieth Chapter, was only permitted them to read, who had arrived to the Sacerdotal Age, as St. Jerom notes in his Prologue to that Prophet, that is, the Thirtieth Year, in whom Youthful Heats, by that time, were thought to be somewhat allayed, and who thereupon would not be in so great danger to pervert the Divine Text to impure, and wanton Imaginations. Whether Solomon at first composed it to represent his own Loves, and as an Epithalamium upon his Marriages with Pharaoh's Daughter, and the Sulamite, one or both, I leave to others to dispute; though for my part, guessing, as we can but guests at the time of those Marriages, and the penning this Divine Song, I think he only took occasion thence, as from a thing long before done (if from thence he took any occasion at all) to give his Muse, as I may call it, an higher flight, and under the terms of the Spouse and her Beloved, of which latter himself in his own Person was to be the Type (the Spouse, whether a Stranger of Egypt, Symbolical of the Gentiles to be called, or of Jewish Parentage, Typical of the Seed of Abraham) to sing the greatest loves this World e'er knew, and which shall be our employment through all Eternity to admire. The Divine Love to whole Mankind both Jew and Gentile, (these first called, and those invited under the Person of the Sulamite to return) expressed in the Incarnation of the Son of God, (who of two has made One, breaking down the Wall of Partition) and continued through all the Circumstances, and the very manner of his Appearance in our Flesh, in order to our Salvation. Some hereby would have the Glories and Prerogatives of the Jewish State▪ both Civil, and Ecclesiastical, and even of their Country under Salomon's auspicious Reign, to be signified under the Similitude of a beautiful Virgin just marriageable, and the rather because of those Resemblances taken from Places, which if attributed to the Female Sex, as according to the Letter they sound, and our kind of Wit, as it is called, are so hard, in their opinions so uncooth, stiff, and unusual, that otherwise they cannot be forced, as I said in the beginning, into any tolerable, and proportionable decence. Yet even those, who thus judge of the Letter, reduce the whole according to the Allegory, to Christ and his Church, and the sacred Members of it jointly, and severally. Be the immediate occasion therefore of its writing what it may, the Jews are very earnest, as they have been from the beginning, to have it meant of their Synagogue only, the Modern among ourselves, of the Christian Church, exclusive wholly of the Jews, and both so dress it up with Allegories (for scarce will they permit a Word, or Syllable, to be sure not a Description of the Time, or Place, etc. to pass without half a score at least) that according to the Poet, 
— Pars minima est ipsa Puella sui.   
Without therefore determining its Sense Mystical directly to this, or that, whether private, or more communicative Interpretation, I have in my Paraphrase left it, at least endeavoured to leave it, as I found it, and even in those places, where I have taken the greatest Liberty, have not gone far from the literal Sense, not at all from that, which approached nearest it, in the Judgement of the most sober Commentators. Such an one I look upon the learned Jo. Mercerus to be, whom, when I found it necessary to consult the Opinions of others, I chiefly followed, and by whose pious and elaborate Annotations, if any shall take the pains to compare my Paraphrase (the mistakes of the Printer being amended, which are in some place through my absence during the whole Impression very gross) the greatest difficulties of Sense, or Expressions, may very easily be resolved. He will moreover find upon Examination, that if he be content soberly to Allegorise, I have left him as much scope to exercise his Religious Invention that way, (though it were to be wished that Invention had not prevailed too much with otherwise Grave and Religious Expositors) as he can well desire, and have only debarred him an indeterminate, and almost infinite Extravagance.  
The Rhythms I have purposely designed various, not going always in the same Tract, lest instead of raising the devout Souls Meditations, I should clap Weights on them; and create in him a loathing of the most exquisite Delicacies, by the same one kind of ill dressing. A mere Verbal Translation, with some heavy Cadences only, I have studiously avoided, because I would not incur the same Fault, which frequently, whether justly or no, I submit to my Judges to decide, I am too apt to blame in others; and, where ever occasion was offered, have enlarged upon an Hint given, or Description, as they fell in my way, further it may be than will be ordinarily allowed me; defending myself all along by the Analogy of Faith, Decence, and Proportion, which I have endeavoured to retain. In two or three places I ha●e used a kind of Measure, which may possibly seem to those, who either take not time to judge of the occasion, or will not allow it, too light for the subject in hand, because less usual; though I only follow therein the Greek and Latin Poets, whose metrical Foot consisted not always of Dissyllables, by Sponde, Troche, or jambic, as ours, the French, Spanish, and Italian, correctly does, but more frequently of Trissyllables, and sometimes of four Syllables intermixed, of various and interchanged quantities, as is seen especially in the Drama, Ode, and Epode, and the kinds of Verse wherein they are treated; though no kind of Verse amongst them is without the intermixture of a several sort of Foot, and the most ordinary, the Hexameter, as it is called, though it is the greatest, and the most majestic, has the Dactyl and Sponde, that is the Dissyllable of two long, and the Trissyllable, of a long and two short so necessary, that without both the Verse and Music cannot subsist, yet was never thence accused of Levity. If it be answered, that we in the Modern Languages have Rhythm, or a coincidence of Sound in a single Termination, to compensate for the disuse, (rather than want) of the Trissyllable Foot; I think this is not always sufficient, and the Critics in Verse are too severe, who would thus altogether restrain, and bind up us Rhythmers, damning the Trissyllable Foot, and cadence of Sound in the two last Syllables to the Burlesque only, as the principal of its Characters; though why it should be so, if the Matter be otherwise noble, and becoming, for my part I see no great reason, nor why the number of a Verse should be esteemed light, and wanton, for an allowable variety only, when the Subject so requires, if the Language be capable of it, as it must be on all hands confessed the English is. The Greek and Latin Poets, as I said, admitted as the great Character of Verse, and its numerousness, this Variety; both because their Language naturally required it, and because they were perfect strangers to Rhythm, (the Greeks always, till grown perfectly Barbarous, and the Latins till after the Irruption of the Goths and Vandals, their Language became confined to the Cloister, and durst not appear walking delicately in Verse, but with that chain of Servitude, its Conquerors had thrown upon it). Our Language a Medley of all the Barbarous Tongues, into which the noble Roman was humbled, but partaking most of that which most humbled it, beside roughnesses of its own, has notwithstanding been so refined (as we flatter ourselves) that it will bear Foot, and Quantity, as the Greek and Latin did, but that Rhythm has in a manner so thrust them out, that contenting, or rather valuing itself (for the greatness of Sense and Conceit whereof, it is indeed capable, equal with any of the now living, or long since dead Languages that are, or in any Age were spoken in the World,) upon the Dissyllable Foot, whether it be Sponde, or Troche, but chiefly jambic, instead of all other Quantities, it thinks itself in single Cadence, a greater Prince of Verse, than either Rome or Athens ever were in all their admired Variety: And indeed abating this, as the Laws of Verse now stand with us, though we have Quantity, yet so uncertain is it in the same Syllable, and so easy to be made, and used long or short, (except in words of more Syllables than two, translated from another Language, and some few Dissyllables in our own, which are so unalterable as to their Quantity, that they either cannot change it without alteration of their sense, or cannot be used in Verse but in such certain places according to their Proportion and Accent) and so great is the number of Monosyllables, which may be either long or short, as to their use, what ever they are as to their nature, and by position, that making our Metrical Foot to consist, as we mostly do, but of two Syllables, it is very hard in English, to compose a Period, but part of it, whether we will or no, shall as to the number be Verse. Tho therefore Blank Verse, as we call it, that is number Metrical (as they would have it) without Rhythm, considering the natural fitness, and customary tendence of our Language, may do excellently in the Drama, because it comes nearest the ordinary way of Speech, wherein the Interloqutors are supposed to converse (and indeed to use Rhythm, or chiming Cadence there, to me seems at least impertinent, if not at best forced, and a strain beyond decence, such as has nothing of the Verisimile in it) yet in an Epic Poem, to mention no other, I know not how with us it can be well maintained. For it wants the proper and particular Character, which we assign Verse, Rhythm I mean, and were it written as Prose usually is, in its just Periods, would both be read, and be, as indeed it is, no other than Poetical Prose; that is, Masculine Prose, dressed up like Hercules by Omphale, in the attire of one of her Women, but whose Shape and Warlike Limbs, could not be concealed by the disguise. Take an Instance of it from that most excellent, and divinely flowing Speech of our first Mother, in the fourth Book of Mr. Miltons' Paradise Lost, than which neither himself ever said any thing softer, and more Poetical, nor can almost be imagined to be said of Man.  
To whom thus Eve replied; O Thou for whom, and from whom I was formed, Flesh of thy Flesh, etc.— That Day I oft remember, when from sleep I first awaked, and found myself reposed under a Shade, on Flowers, much wondering where, and what I was, whence thither brought, and how. Not distant far from thence, a murmuring sound of Waters issued from a Cave, and spread into a liquid Plain, then stood unmoved, pure as the Expanse of Heaven. I thither went, with unexperienced thought, and laid me down on the Green Bank, to look into the clear smooth Lake, that to me seemed another Sky. As I bent down to look, just opposite a Shape within the watery Gleam appeared, bending to look on me. I started back, it started back, but pleased I soon returned, pleased it returned as soon, with answering looks of Sympathy and Love. There I had sixth mine Eyes till now, and pineed with vain desire, had not a Voice thus warned me, What thou seest, what there thou seest, Fair Creature, is thyself, with Thee it came, and goes; but follow me, and I will bring Thee where no Shadow stays thy coming, etc.—  
Who now in the World could ever dream that this were Verse, and Verse too the softest, and most tuneable, and with as great a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, suitable to the occasion, as can be conceived? I confess some few words, and manner of contexture, and an Image of the thing different, and some thing more tender than that which Prose commonly renders, would make it suspected, that the Writer was in a Poetical Rapture; but still, through the Disguise, the Prose appears, or rather cannot be hid, any more than the Verse, in the following Period; as I guess of the same Author, in an Apology, in Answer to the Modest Confutation of a Libel, entitled, Animadversions upon the Remonstrants' Defence of Smectymnuus. The Period is Prose, but I I shall write it in Blank Verse, and without adding, or diminishing, or transposing a word, only making the Verse sometime longer, sometime shorter, as in the Pindaric, whether fitly so called I inquire not here, leave it to the Reader to judge, whether there is not in both the same numerous Harmony, and Contexture, the same turn of Words, boldness of Figure, and height of Imaging. 
Then Zeal, whose substance is Aethereal,  
Arming in complete Diamond, ascends  
His Fiery Chariot, drawn with two blazin, Meteors,  
Figured like Beasts, but of an higher Breed  
Than any the Zodiac yields; resembling two  
Of those Four, which Ezekiel, & St. John— [saw;  
The one Visaged like a Lion, to express  
Power, high Authority, and Indignation;  
The other of Countenance like a Man, to ca●  
Derision, and Scorn, upon perverse,  
And fraudulent Seducers.  
With these the Invincible Warrior Zeal, etc.—   
I forbear that which follows, for Mr. Milton's sake if he were the Author; if not, what I have quote▪ here will not be looked upon to the disgrace of 〈◊〉 Learning, for it is not in the least intended so 〈◊〉 me, or to the disparagement of any's, who beside hi● may have been Author of the Apology; for my d●●sign is only to show by both these Examples, th●● take away Rhythm from our English Poetry, and i● remains undistinguishable, by any other Character● from Prose; at least not so distinct, but th●● through the Mascarade it may be discovered, having the Manly Limbs of this, though it may be the soft habit of the other.  
Not so the Italian, and Spanish Blank Verse● from whom the same great and learned Mr. Milto●● I believe took his Measures. For though to instance in the Italian, and their Compositions of that kind, Anibal Caro, in his most excellent Translation of Virgil, and Torquato Tasso, in his Set giornate del Mondo creato, have avoided Rhythms, they yet retained the proper Character of the Italian Verse; I mean as to the Form, equivalent to our Rhythm, which ever ends with a solitary Syllable for the last Foot, unless we make the last Foot consist rather of three Syllables, by an Antibacchius, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Horrore costume, or by an Amphibrachus, as in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Piume inamnte, be there Rhythm used, or be there none; though if there be Rhythm, the Chime, or Tune, rests both upon the last, and the last Syllable save one; by which mark or trissyllable Foot indifferent to both, and the Syllabical quantities of the Italian words, which approach, and except in some few instances directly follow the Latin; the Italian even Blank Verse of any Author, howsoever written can no more be concealed and mistaken for Prose, than the Latin Verse of Virgil, or Ovid. Take an Example of both from Tasso, and first of the Italian Verse with Rhythm, in that famous Stanza of his Gierusalemme Liberata, Canto. xx. Stanza 51. which himself esteemed the most noble of the whole Poem.  
Gi'ace ' i'll caval lo ' all su'o signo▪ re ' appresso,  
Giace il Compagno, appo il Compagno estinto,  
Giace il nemico, appo il nemico, & spesso  
Sul morto il vivo, il vin●itor su'l vinto:  
Non v' è silentio, & non v è grido espresso,  
Ma odi, un non sò che, roco, ed indistinto,  
Fremiti di furor, mormori d' ira,  
Gemiti di chi langue, & di chi spira.  
Where every Verse, like our Heroic in English, has five Feet, with a solitary Syllable in the last liquescing, and of very moderate sound, but whose Penultima is ever to be pronounced, with Accent, more strong; for they are to be scanned as we call it at School, (where we are first taught to make Verse a little it may be of the soon) just as in the Latin pure lambic, or as in the Dimetrum, or Senarium, allowing never above two Syllables to a Foot, but with continual Observation, contrary to us, and which yet is not ever by them strictly noted, not only of the Synalaepha, which melts down the last Vowel of the former word into the first Syllable of that which next follows, beginning with a Vowel, and giving it its sound, but of the Synaeresis in the same word, contracting two Syllables, be they Vowels, or Diphthongs, into one, except in some few Irregulars according to the marks of both Feet, and Contraction pointed out in the first Verse. Upon the solitary Syllable, and that which precedes it in the last Foot, rests the Sound, or Chime, and which in the Italian Language, if to this Character of Verse they think fit to add Rhythm, is but necessary, considering that the Terminations of almost all perfect words, except some few Particles, end in a Vowel. The example of Blank Verse, among the Italians, which I shall give, is taken from the Description of the last Judgement, in the same Tassos Settima Giornata.  
E'l Rè, del Ci'el, folgo, reggi'an, do ' in alto,  
Dimostrerassi in bianca nube accolto;  
E come nube, ch' è squarciata, ò velo,  
I cieli à lùi dinanzi aperti e scissi,  
Vedransi rivelar l' alta possanza;  
E mille appariranno, & mille ardenti  
D' essercito divin falangi, & squadre,  
Risplendendo là su di luce, & d' armi;  
Fiammeggierà con l'oro il sino elettro  
Entr' à le spaventose obscure nubi;  
E vedransi it vagando à nembo, a nembo:  
E piu de tuoni spaventosi udransi  
Terribilment le canore trombe.  
Crollati, & scossi i bei stellanti chiostri  
Tremar tutti vedransi all gran rimbombo.  
Tremara ne' l horror confusa, & vinta  
La Natura creata, hauran temenza  
Gli Angeli stessi riverenti in alto,  
All folminante Re staranno intorno, etc.  
So that, though there be no Rhythms, the number is purely metrical (if the Language also be not so too, both by the turn of the words used, and the manner of their use, by frequenter Apocopes than would be tolerated in Prose) and cannot but be owned for such. For were the Blank Verses above recited, written as Prose, in their just Periods, for those very Reasons, and by the Marks given, they would be so easily distinguished from it, that any one, who is very little experienced in the Italian Language and Poetry, though there be no Rhythms, would presently pronounce them, and very safely and confidently might, to be excellent Verse. A thing, which I thinks cannot possibly be contrived for the English Blank Verse, especially if it be the grace of Prose, and its utmost perfection, as some imagine, not only to be every whit as numerous, but in the same way to be● conceived, I mean; in Blanks. But as this is an● impertinent fineness at best, and if studied, and designed so below the gravity of an Orator, that it 〈◊〉 able to cast upon the best, and most passionate Speaker reproach and contempt, it is unfit in my opinion to subserve his great end, the moving of the Mind, which is so jealous of its Honour, that though it willingly suffers itself to be imposed upon, from a principle of good Nature inherent in it, and connature to its being, as long as it perceives no Artifice used▪ yet when that is once discovered, or but suspected, 〈◊〉 grows obstinate, and puts a bar to the best that is, 〈◊〉 can be said. In Verse the Mind is quite otherwise disposed, and requires naturally another kind of Movement, lively Images, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, I think the Greek● call them, which it has common with Prose, but mor● exalted, and as it were with a different kind of light Number also and Harmony, which Prose has, 〈◊〉 under another Character, Rhythm in Our Moder● Languages, or something equivalent to it, varieties Feet and Measure, which if it want, as the Verse is thereby deprived of its greatest and best, and only distinguishing Ornaments, the mind also that came prepared to tempt its Charms, and expected them, languishes under the disappointment. This therefore, as I conceive it was, which made the Italians when they omitted Rhythms, still to retain that kind of Number in their Blank Verse, which should make it divers from Prose; and them the Spanish follow, in their Metrical Compositions, both which with Rhythms, and without, having most frequently a solitary and supernumerary Syllable either in, or for the last Foot. The French, as nearer us in Clime and Manners, come nearer us too in their model of Verse, which they conceive much after the same Method; only herein I think they have the advantage, that considering more seriously, the nature of Verse, and of their Language, never that I know of, have they received the Blank into the Epope, or indeed any kind of Poem. Nay, so great admirers are they of Rhythm, (though whether they have been so long, I leave it to be enquired) that they cannot abstain from it in the Drama, the very Farce rarely excepted; and these have, of late at least, been our great Lawgivers, for Affairs of the Stage, (how properly, it is no business of mine, any where, especially in this place, to dispute); but never yet have they been able to prevail with us to admit so frequently, as their best Poets use it, the Dissyllable Rhythm, or Cadence; though since it is in so great repute with them, and makes so necessary a part of Verse with the Italian and Spaniard, when they use Rhythm, that it is else looked upon as less perfect, and irregular, I know no reason, why if the Argument be otherwise answerable, and great, we should humble it to the Burlesque, or Ridicule only, and give either that, or the Trissyllable Foot none, or the meanest place in serious Compositions. If therefore Ourselves, or the French will use Blank Verse, either in an Heroic Poem, where they should be I think Couplets, as in Mr. Cowley's Davideis, (for the Quadrains of Sir William Davenant, and the Stanza of Nine in Spensers' Fairy Queen, which are but an Improvement of the Ottava Rima, to instance in no more, seem not to me so proper) or in an Ode or Sonnet, (which remains yet to be attempted) since we want that Character of Verse, which the Greek and the Latin had of old, and those among the Modern equivalently observe, who both lie nearer Rome, and retain the most visible Traces of its Language, having no means of differencing it from Prose except by the Rhythm, as the most essential Mark, let us give it the Character, as to its Form, which it anciently had, a Number and Movement metrical, with interchanged variety, according to the kind of our Verse, of divers sorts of Feet. But this we in English have found, by the Experience of Sir Philip Sidney, Ab. France, and others in the last Age, would never do; and in the next, even Our now cried-up Blank Verse, will look as unfashionable, how well soever as a Novelty, and upon his Credit, who was the Inventor of it here, it may speed in this. Not but that I have, and always had, as great an honour for Mr. Milton's Paradise Lost, as those who admire, him most, and look upon it as Mr. Driden has very well observed, To be one of the greatest, most noble and most sublime Poems, take it altogether, which either this Age, or Nation has produced. Nay, that it shall live as long as there are Men left in our English World to read, and understand it; and that many Ages hence translated into whatever speech we shall be then changed (for changing we have been from Chaucer's time downward with a Witness, however it be called Refining) that shall survive the Language, wherein it stands written, and therein itself. Yet still I say, the Learned only must and shall be Judges of this, and that if he had thought to give it the Adornments of Rhythm, and not avoided them so Religiously, as any one may perceive he now and then does, to the debasing of his great Sense, it had been so absolute a piece, * that in spite of whatever the World Heathen, or Christian hitherto has seen, it must have remained as the standard to all succeeding Poets & Poesy.  
I beg my Readers pardon for this very long Digression, which has swelled much beyond the limits I intended it, though I hope not without giving him some Diversion. For it is, I confess, beside my Province, and if I have taken wrong measures of Verse, and Versifying, (the Standart of Verse being possibly of late altered) I submit my private Fancy, and all I have said here, to its great Judges and Masters, for I only thought to have defended myself against those, who should object Lightness in a place or two to the manner of my Verse, because, as I said above, 'tis only unusual amongst us. For light it cannot justly be thought by the most rigid, and scrupulous, so long as the Argument continues the same; nor will it, I am assured, be judged so by those, who know what are the transports of the noblest Passion, but then especially, when the pious Soul, rapt beyond itself, falls into an ecstasy of Divine Love. No wonder in such Circumstances, if its Speech and manner of Expression be also Exstatical. The roughness of my Verse now and then seems rather to be obnoxious to a Reprimende, and possibly it may deserve it, but I much willinger chose to be deficient in the Tuneableness of my Rhythms, than have the Sense broken and perplexed.  
I think I need not take any notice of the several Titles which I have given each Chapter; for the Song being of all Expositors acknowledged, as to its general Form, to be Dramatic, because of the several Interlocutors, which are introduced (though considered as an Epithalamium for its great Argument, consisting of many Odes, it has more of the Lyric, whereupon the speeches being not so directly continued, nor short, and in Repartee, as they say, each to other, as in the Drama, I have taken occasion to put it mostly in the Lyric dress) I could not do as I thought any thing more proper. However, to prevent all manner of Offence that may be taken, I will uncompelled account for it to the Ingenuous Reader, in as few words as I can. Supposing therefore, which I think none will deny, that it is, as I said, a Drama, the Persons speaking may well be allowed to be, as following the best Expositors I have fixed them, The Spouse, and Her Beloved, with the Friends on either side in the Chorus, though, who, according to the Mystery, by these are signified, further than briefly touched before, I leave to them to interpret. Instead of a Prologue, I have called the Stanzas immediately preceding the Hymn itself 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Praecentio, or Praeludium, though if I had called them the Prologue, since they serve to the same end as the Prologue in the Drama, I see no inconvenience, nor any whom the name can offend, save the Ignorant. That which I have designed instead of the Epilogue, I have I think by the most regular name, rather called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, than Epilogus. For the Song itself sounding as to the letter nothing but Love, and though intended by the sacred Penman to be meant of the Divine Love only, too apt to be distorted to that which is sensual, carnal and brutish, through the Pravity of our Nature, even untranslated into Metre, and as it lies in the Text, the Epode serves according to the true sense of its name, Carmen ad amoliendum quicquid, noxium est, to remove the Veil, and to take away all occasion of perverting the sublime Mysteries. The Legend further of Love I have styled it, for honour's sake to the great Spenser, whose Stanza of Nine I have used, and who has Entitled the six Books which we have complete of his Fairy Queen, by the several Legends of Holiness, Temperance, Chastity, Friendship, Justice, and Courtesy, and to any who knows what the word Legend there, or in its true and first notion signifies, it will neither seem strange, ridiculous, or improper: I have made it to consist of three Cantos, agreeable enough to the nature of an Epode, or Legend, if it be judged indecent, as indeed it is, considering its length, for an Epilogue; In the first whereof taking occasion from the Canticles, to which in the beginning it refers, I have endeavoured to show the true Nature of Love, and what it was in the state of Innocence, describing it by the liveliest Images, which I could form to myself suitable to a Poetical Composition. In the second I have considered the thing, whatever it be, vulgarly called Love, under the dominion and government of Sense, exclusive of Reason, which it too often either draws to its party, or wholly extinguishes, than which nothing can be conceived more absurd, unreasonable, extravagant, and inhuman. The third Canto, in the close of it, is designed for the Restauration of Love, by Sacred Marriage, or Wedlock, according to the Divine Institutiin, to its ancient Dignity and Lustre; The very cause, amongst others there-under adumbrated, for which Solomon, divinely inspired, wrote this Song, which subserves thereunto by so noble an Instance, that they only betray their Impiety, or Atheism, who in an Age so Wise and Critically Rational, as this would be thought, can find no more becoming occasion to sh●w and vend their Wit, than what is made by exposing the sublimest Mysteries of Our Religion, and the most glorious displays of Our both present and future Happiness. If therefore any, who are able to judge, shall chance to find there, or in any of my Compositions, the least Word, or Sentence, which may choque them, or escape me, not agreeable to the sentiments of this Best of Churches, and Good Manners, I hereby utterly disclaim it, and beseech them to give the place a double thrust, for their own Revenge, and mine, who would not have put them to the trouble, had myself perceived it. There is more of it a great deal, than at first was intended, but, I know not how, it grew so strangely under my hands, that I have been forced to lay aside more thoughts, than I have been at the pains to dress up, to reduce it within the present Compass. However, I hope, it is in all parts consonant to sound Doctrine, whose limits, for the greatest glories of Verse, I would not willingly transgress. As to the Song itself following the Division, or Partition of it, which the Church allows in the distinction of Chapters, I have called the first Divini Amoris Ecstasis, or Protasis, though it may be by the latter Title not altogether so naturally. But seeing visibly in the Song all the other parts which are by the Ancients assigned the Drama, (who it may be hence first of all took their Rules) I fixed the Protasis here as in the usual place, and more designedly, because in this and the following Chapter, we have as it were the sum of the whole laid down, and the mind kept in suspense for the event, which was the business, as is known by the learned, of the Protasis. The next great part of the Drama was the Epitasis, or the counterturn, as I may call it, of Action, which I have placed in the third Chapter, under the title of Dolour de Absentia Sponsi, seu Epitasis, (though this latter in the Printing off the sheet is omitted, and with another escape or two consequent thereof, has given me the trouble of advising the Reader of it here, that he may rectify the mistake) where, as in the Epitasis excitantur turbae, & caligine quâdam res involvuntur, We find the Spouse all Joy before, Mourning for the absence of her Beloved, and all things for a while seem to incline to the worst. The Catastasis before its time in the printed Copy, is entitled to the fourth Partition, but belongs rightly to the fifth Chapter, or Division (where I have also caused it, as soon as by seeing the sheets, I perceived the Error of the Press again to be set, desiring the Reader, instead of that Title in the fourth Chapter, to put Desiderium) successive of the Epitasis in the third. And it is a continuance of the Spouses trouble for the absence of her Lord there first hinted; and whereas in the Epitasis, eadem cernitur rerum perturbatio, but somewhat greater, and opens the way to the clearing of all in the following Partitions under their several Titles, till the Drama comes to its last Period in the Catastrophe, which I have placed at the eighth Partition, though if any one will, he may make the Catastrophe begin at the seventh, and in the eighth bring the Spouse ad Sponsi fores, after the Jewish Custom, in pursuance and compliment of it; That which is signified by the Catastrophe in the Drama, being the conclusion of the whole, according to its expected or unlookt-for event. I might add here a great deal concerning the Unity of Action, strictly observed in this Hymn, and the Chorus, which is every where regular, but I pass them both over. With respect to what I have already laid down, I will not say that Solomon designed all, or any of these parts in this Divine Song, or in the manner that I, following the Ancients, have bounded them; but this I dare say, that whosoever knows the Motions of the Pious Soul in its love to God, knows also that these several parts make it up, which I shall endeavour thus briefly to evidence, and appeal to those who understand it best, and have tried the great experiment.  
No sooner therefore by the Preaching of the Gospel, and the most benign Operations of the good Spirit of God, comes the devout Soul, to be convinced of the Divine Love, in itself and infinite Perfections how beyond expression amiable, to the Soul by ten thousand Experiences how endeared, but being first loved, and knowing assuredly itself to be loved, it endeavours according to its unequal measure to return love for love; Is all as it were on a flame towards its Beloved, and thinks nothing comparative with him Lovely, nothing for his sake too hard or grievous to be undertaken. The World to such an One and all its gaudy Pageantry appears, as it truly is, a dead and lifeless and accursed thing; without any Charms except to betray and ensnare, and with Pleasures (such as they are) which continue but for a moment, and perish in the using; nor can it find any relish or satisfaction but in the enjoyment of those Real and Eternal Beauties, on which Time and Age have no effect, and whose most frequent use increase only, and heighten their delight. Of these it continually thinks, loves and admires none but these; and is so wholly transformed into what it loves, that it is no more itself, nor lives any other Life than what that inspires. Or in St. Paul's phrase, Being Crucified with Christ, nevertheless it lives, or Christ rather lives in it, and the Life which it lives in the Flesh, it lives by the Faith of the Son of God, who loved it, and gave himself for it. In this Ecstasy, while it continues, the Pious Soul once inflamed with the Love of God, exults with joy unspeakable; and continue the Ecstasy will, till either Our love by degrees, as is not unusual (the more wretched We) grow cold in its once most ardent pursuits, or the violence of a Temptation intervene, or the most Highest, for either the punishment of our Remissness, or trial of our Sincerity, for a while withdraw himself; but then, the happier we once to perceive and take notice of it, how is the Soul that truly loves, perplexed? This way it runs, and that; and only thoughtful of its Misery, and what it would find, where yet to find it knows not. Here comes in the true Epitasis: Another face of things appears than was wont, and instead of Hymns, and joyous Acclamations, which used before to be its constant Companions, nothing is heard, in all its Retreats, but the Sighs and Laments, as of one forsaken. The Soul is overwhelmed almost with Sorrow, which to prove the most Intense, Hearty, and Sincere, it endeavours all it can, to clear its Innocence, calling Heaven and God to witness it; of yet which, having paused a while and not daring in cooler Blood to be too confident, it reflects upon its former coldness and negligence, and resolves on greater Care and Circumspection for the future, is angry with itself, and afraid, and mourns bitterly, and begs but once more to be tried, and professes its Zeal, and passes ten thousand Promises, binding them with as many Vows, and resolves so throughly to be revenged of itself, that it will never give over its unweary search, till it has found its Beloved. Away in this heat it flies out of itself as it were, and seeks, and asks after him of all it meets; and though affronted frequently by the way, bears the Indignity with patience, and feels the smart of no Wound received in the inquiry, comparable to his absence; till almost quite tired, now and again, and the third time (and it were well if but the three hundredth time the Epitasis and the Catastasis consequent of it recurred). Lo! he whom the Soul loves, and who infinitely more loves the Soul, taking pity of its Labours, and approving its Integrity, at length discovers himself anew, with greater Attractives than before. And now all is perfectly well again. Peace and Joy, and the tender endearments of a mutual Affection blown up to a Flame, which no Waters can quench, sparkle in both. No Discourse passes, but of the constancy of each others Love, its Charms how great, its Renewals how surprising. The happy Nuptials, which make the Catastrophe seem not to be far off, and by Faith through the Veil the Soul looks, and sees the Preparations, and hastens the time by its calls, and even dies with Impatience, because it is but a moment deferred.  
This is the Progress of Divine Love in the holy Soul, adumbrated as I conceive, in this Mysterious Song, but so coldly and imperfectly displayed by me (God help poor Mortals!) that suspected thence, as I fear for myself I justly may, never to have been really touched with it, I can only appeal to Him, who searches the Heart, with the most earnest Obtestations, that if my Love to my Lord and Saviour be not such as it ought, with a flame so pure, and great as to warm, and enlighten others, according to the Prerogative of my Office; it may yet be sufficient to keep myself from either freezing, or stumbling; especially from either thinking, or speaking any thing unbecoming it, at least 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and in the too much despised Rank of a Christian Poet.  
As for the other sacred Hymns, they seem to me to be of those parts of Scripture concerning which I may truly say, omitting their Divine Inspiration, that being compared with the best and most Majesty of Pindar, or Horace, they are so far from losing any thing of their Beauty, that they only receive thence the greater Lustre, and cast upon the noblest thoughts of those next to Immortal Lyrics, whom the Heathen World, and we above all the Heathen most deservedly admire, the honourable Office of serving but as a proper Foil, to make them appear the more Glorious. For nothing can be conceived more Poetical, nothing more Tuneful and Harmonious, nothing more Dithyrambic and Ecstatical. Of this latter sort are the Songs of Moses, Deborah, and Habakkuk. And had I not a design of drawing to an end of this long Preface, as soon as possible, I might instance in the several Graces, which are proper to the rest, not as turned by me, but as they lie in the Original; Of which yet they are not wholly divested by the most barbarous Translation, into any Language, and in some of which, the Latin particularly of Castellio, and the Italian of Diodati, not to say our own, which may Vye with the best, they shine with a Ray only second to what they received upon their immediate Inspiration.  
The Compositions, which are my own purely, or Translated occasionally out of the Originals, noted in the Titles or Margin, are of an infinite base Alloy; and all I dare presume to say for them, is; That when I either made, or turned them, they suited well enough my then present Temper; and I have a kindness for them, proportionable to the Diversion they at that time gave myself, and have since given my Friends, at whose request I did some of them. However I had not been thus confident to Print them now, and publicly own them in this Habit, but that unknown to me, and unallowed, after very false Copies some of them have been already Published. I have here and there added the Dates, not for Ostentation, any one may think, but thereby to give some little account how I have been wont to spend part of my Time, both before I was admitted into Holy Orders, and since; and that if some of my Rhythms may not so directly suit with my present Circumstances, and seem too inflate with the Muses imaginary Profits and Honours, and idle Tattle to no purpose in the World; the time wherein I did them, may be my Apology, as it has served others before me; though there be none of them I hope, which will not be allowed as a tolerable Diversion for the severest Divine, their subject being either Religious, or exemplary Moral. And I am not ashamed to profess, that wearied with more abstruse studies, I have been wont in a Country Village barren of other Diversions thus to unbend, and refresh myself. I might amongst the rest have added the Muse's Complaint, but beside that I thank God I have no great need, being content with my Fortune, I never yet found any good come of it, and Mr. Cowley's, and Mr. Spenser's before him, will indifferently serve for any of the Trade, and he values himself too highly who dares expect better fortune than they met. My change of Habit, I acknowledge, and manner of Living, with increase of Years, have much taken me off from these kind of Delights, though had I no greater loss of time at last to repent, than what has been spent among the Muses, I should, in my own Opinion at least, be a very happy Man. Nay, I am so far at present from repenting it, for the main, that as the late Cardinal Palavicino, on the like occasion says, Giovommi, che in eta, & in professione più libera, Io sopra modo fui vago d'alcuni autori, la cui frequente lezione sarebbe ora poco dicevole, alla maturita de miei anni, ed alla serjetà del mio stato; si che me è auvenuto, come a coloro, i quali con più animoso, che sicuro consiglio praticarono lungament fra gli aliti pericolosi delle sotterranee miniere, i uscendone salvi, hannosi comperata, con questo rischio, qualche più interna contezza intorno alle naturali proprietà, delle gioie & dell' oro. Some of my Adventures in this kind, I have been at the pains to rehearse (and I might have added many more) in the Ode, called the Voyage, others I have glanced at in the Odes of Petrarch, reducing as far as was convenient that excellent Poet's sense, to my own Condition.  
And now, having in the body of this Preface troubled my Reader with a particular defence of Rhythm, as the most natural, and proper Character of Verse, in the Modern, and it may be in all Languages, that are or ever were spoken in the World, (the Greek and Latin only excepted) and without which, especially in English, it cannot appear distinguished from Prose; (and which, if we look either to the first Original of Rhythm, is so far from being the Invention of a late Barbarous Age, or People, that it was known, as is judged by the Learned, and allowed by the Hebrews, and Eastern Nations, long before the Greeks, and Romans were grown to that height, as to style all but themselves Barbarous; if to its present Universal use, and particularly with those, whom the now Civil and Christi●n World more modestly and justly call so, and who, though they never heard of the Greeks and Romans, nor it may be till of late of any People less Barbarous than themselves, have a kind of Number received from their Ancestors distinct from their Prose, whose Character is Rhythm or Cadence, seems to be in all Countries the direction of pure Nature, uncultivated by Art; and) that I may not in Act condemn, what I have in Word taken upon me the confidence to defend, I have styled the whole Second Part by the fittest, as I think, of the most Ancient, as well as Modern names, RHYMES. I confess I have consulted none of my Friends in it, nor know I whether they, and the Censors of English Verse will allow it me, though Casa, and the ●est of the Italians, (to instance in no more) are my Compurgators. Yet not purely hence, and upon their Authority barely have I stayed myself, but from a principle of Modesty, if my Reader dare credit me, that I may neither forestall and deceive him, nor usurp for such occasional Compositions, an Honour and Title which belongs not to them. The noble Title of Poems I mean, too great a bearing for so mean an estate of Verse as that to which of the most they are vulgarly affixed. If others are of another mind for the Examples sake, (the first it may be in English of the despised Name given to any thing that was grave and serious) there's no hurt done; and I am conte●t, (though whether I be or no, 'tis no great matter) that for their own Diversions, they ●●ll them by what Name's they please, so they give me ●he like liberty, as I list, to name mine.   

THE TABLE OF THE CONTENTS.  
The Letter [a] added to the Number of the Pages refers to the First Part, or the Paraphrase on the Canticles: [b] to the Second Part, or the Rhymes.  

1 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Stanza. Page 3. a  
Avoid Profane avoid! for such as you.   

The Canticles in VIII Partitions.  

2 I. Divini Amoris Ecstasis, quae & Protasis. Stanz. p. 6. a  
False glozing World, in vain.  
3 TWO Evocatio Sponsae. Couplets. Stanz. Mixt. p. 13. a  
Earth's glittering Stars, vying with those above.  
4 III. Dolour de absentiâ Spons● seu Epitasis. Couple. p. 21. a  
'Twas Night, a sad and dismal Night.  
5 IU. Desiderium. Stanza. p. 26. a  
Behold, thouart Fair, my Love, behold, thouart Fair.  
6 V. Catastasis. Stanza. Couple. p. 33. a  
I heard Thee call, my Sister, my Spouse.  
7 VI Ambitio Sponsae. Stanz. Couple. Mixt. p. 39 a  
Whither is Thy Beloved gone?  
8 VII. Amores mutui. Couple. p. 44. ●  
Fair One, who dost from Loins of Kings descend.  
9 VIII. Catastrophe. Couplets. p. 48. a  
I love, but cannot yet my Love enjoy.    

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Three Cantos, or the Legend of Love.  

10 I. Canto. Stanzas. p. 54. a  
Song which the God of Love did first inspire.  
11 II. Canto. Stanz. p. 76. a  
I oft am thinking whether Love was known.  
12 III. Canto. Stanz. p. 100 a  
Tired with the Way I have already gone.  
13 To the Right Reverend Father in God, SETH, Lord Bishop of Sarum. Sonnet. p. 119. a  
Mindful whence first she learned the early skill.    

The Six great Hymns of St. Luke.  

14 I. The Angel's Salutation. Monostrophos. p. 3. b  
Hail of Heaven highly graced.  
15 II. The Salutation of Elizabeth. Stanz. p. 4. b  
Blest Thou among all Women be.  
16 III. The Magnificat. Stanz. p. 5. b  
My Soul doth magnify the Lord.  
17 IU. The Benedictus. Stanz. p. 7. b  
Israel's great God eternally be praised.  
18 V. The Angelic Hymn. Rondeau. p. 9 b  
Glory be to God on High.  
19 VI. The Nunc dimittis. Stanz. p. 10. b  
Enough, my God, enough, I beg no more.  
20 Comiato to Sir Nicholas Stuart, Baronet. Monostroph. p. 12. b  
Songs made in lieu of many more.    

The Eight great Hymns of the Apocalypse.  

21 I. The Adoration of the XXIV Elders. Stanz. p. 13. b  
Worthy Thou art all Honour to receive.  
22 II. The overthrow of the Dragon. Stanz. p. 14. b  
Now is Salvation, now is come the Hour.  
23 III. The happy Dead. Quadrains. p. 15. b  
Blest are the Dead, who in the Lord depart.  
24 IU. The Song of Moses and the Lamb. Stanz. p. 16. b  
Great are thy Works, and marvellous thy Praise.  
25 V. The Angels of the Waters laud's. Stanz. p. 17. b  
Righteous art Thou, O God, who art and waste.  
26 VI. The overthrow of Babylon. Stanz. p. 18. b  
Hallelujah to our King.  
27 VII. Epithalamium on the Lamb's Marriage. Sta. p. 19 b  
Praise him ye Servants of th' Eternal King.  
28 VIII. The New Jerusalem. Stanza p. 22. b  
Blest state of Innocence!  
29 Our Blessed Lord's Thanksgiving. Stanz. p. 25. b  
I thank Thee, Father, Lord of all.  
30 The Song of Moses. Ode. p. 26. b  
Since the Almighty has in Triumph led.  
31 The Well. Stanza p. 30. b  
Sacred Fountain, Mystic Spring.  
32 The Prayer of Jabez. Stanz. p. 31. b  
Thus Jabez prayed, and thus pray I  
33 The Song of Deborah. Ode. p. 34. b  
Israel the blessed and happy State.  
34 David ' s Elegy on the death of Saul, and Jonathan. Stanza p. 43. b  
Israel's delight the Glory of our Land.  
35 David ' s Thanksgiving and Prayer. Stanz. p. 46. b  
Who am I, Lord, and what●s my Family.  
36 David's last Words, Terzetti. p. 50. b  
Thus David, Jesses Royal Son did sing.  
37 The Song of Hezekiah. Stanz. p. 52. b  
Revolving the sharp Sentence past.    

Three Psalms according to the Ordinary M●tr●.  

38 I. Beatus Vir qui non abiit. p. 55. b  
The Man is blest, whose doubtful Pat●s.  
39 LVII. Miserere mei, Deus, Miserere. p. 56. b  
Great God on whom I have relied.  
40 CXIV. In exitu Israel de. p. 58. b  
When Israel was by God's address.  
41 CLI. Psalms according to the LXXII. Stanz. p. 59 b  
Youngest of all my Brethren, and the least.  
42 Job cursing his Birth. Couplets. p. 61. b  
May the Day perish, and its hasty flight.  
43. The Prayer of Habakkuk. Ode. p. 64. b  
My God I have Thy Wonders heard.  
44 The saying of Cleanthes. Stanz. p. 72. b  
Led me, O Providence Divine.  
45 A storm of Thunder. Ode. p. 73. b  
Great God of Thunder at whose Voice.  
46 The Nativity. Ode. p. 74. b  
Who would not envy, if he durst, your Grace.  
47 The Star, A Carol for the Epiphany. p. 80. b  
See how that glorious Star at Noon does rise.  
48 The Passion. Ode. p. 82. b  
Twice sixteen Years have almost o'er Thee past.  
49 An Epigram on the same, out of Latin. p. 87. b  
When ●y God died, I first began to live.  
50 Ecstasy of Divine Love, out of Spanish. Stan. p. 88 b  
That sacred bond of Charity.  
51 The flight Quadrains. p. 92. b  
No wonder Soul, thou so admirest a Verse.  
52 A Hymn and Prayer to the Holy Jesus. Parode▪ AIl' Italiana. p. 94. b  
Jesus th' Eternal Sun of Righteousness.  
53 Hymn for Vespers. Out of Greek. Monostroph. p. 100 b  
J●su Christ, blessed Light of Light.  
54 Lent. A Sestine. p. 101  
Welcome, great Queen of Fasts, thrice welcome, Lent.  
55 The fall of Lucifer. Stanz. p. 103. b  
Son of the Morning, Firstborn of the Light.  
56 Convertimento à Deo. Stanz. p 105  
Lord, my First-fruits should have been brought, etc.  
57 The Altar. Monostroph. p. 106  
This Altar to thy Name, Great God, I raise.  
58 Ad Passagium. Out of Italian. F. P. Ode. p. 108. b  
Blest Soul, in Heaven expected long.  
59 To the Right Reverend Father in God GEORGE Lord Bishop of W●nton. Out of Italian. F. P. Ode. p. 113. b  
A Fair and Virtuous Dame.  
60 Sonnet of the same. p. 118. b  
Prepare Thy Chariot, Love, and heaviest Chain.  
61 The Apology. Out of Italian. F. P. Ode. p. 119. b  
Citing my old, and cruel Master, Love.  
62 Ballad. Out of Spanish. Profane Love. Stan. p. 126. b  
Love is a Net, and Love's a Snare.  
63 Love's Exaltation. Sonnet. p. 127. b  
Enlarge Thy Flight, Love, said I, and on High.  
64 The Thoughts. Out of Italian. F. P. Ode. p. 128. b  
Full of strange Thoughts and Pensive as I go.  
65. Convertimento à Dio. Out of Italian. F. P. Son. p. 135. b  
Tired, and almost o'ercome, with th' heavy weight.  
66 To the same purpose. Out of Italian. F. P. Sonn. p. 135. b  
Since you and I, my Friend, so oft have proved.  
67 To Mrs. M. W. with the Parable of the Pilgrim. Sonnet. p. 136. b  
A tedious Age, I like this Pilgrim spent.  
68 To the Reverend J. G. Sonnet. p. 137. b  
To God it is, my Friend, and you I owe.  
69 On a Painted Crucifix. Out of Italian. Son. p. 137. b  
Something there was, Great Master, more than Art.  
70 St. Paul, done by Titian. Out of Italian. Madrigal. p. 138. b  
Dead to the World, and far from Heaven removed.  
71 The Vanity of thinking to get Fame by Rhyming. Sonnet. p. 139. b  
What dost Thou, Man, what thinkst Thou, etc.  
72 To give o'er Rhyming, and fall to Business. Son. p. 139. b  
A I one Day did of my Fate complain.  
73 To the Right Reverend Father in God JOHN late Lord Bishop of Chester, upon his Promotion. Ode. p. 140. b  
Fair Seminary of the Flourishing Arts.  
74 To the Honourable Sir John Denham, upon his new Version of the Psalms. Quadrains. p. 146. b  
'twas but of late that in our Northern Clime.  
75 To Mr. Isaac Walton, publishing the Life of Mr. George Herbert. Ode. p. 150. b  
heavens youngest Son, its Benjamin.  
76 To the same publishing Mr. Ric. Hooker's Life. Ode. p. 153. b  
Hail sacred Mother, British Church, all hail!  
77 The Metamorphosis, upon the Death of Mrs. A. W. Idyllium. p. 156. b  
Down in a Vale between two shady Groves.  
78 To Posthumus. Out of Latin. Horace. Ode. p. 160. b  
Time Posthumus scuds it with full sail.  
79 To Belisa, the excellent Mrs. Mary Beal. Monost. p. 162  
Such would the learned Pallas choose to be.  
80 To Clelia, on his Picture, done by Mr. Flatman, Monostroph. p. 163. b  
Proof against Time and Age.  
81 Solitude. Out of Latin. Mr. Ab. Cowley. Quad. p. 164. b  
The Country, as 'tis fit, we Poets praise.  
82 The Voyage. Ode. p. 166. b  
As one that's from a tedious Voyage come.     

A PARAPHRASE ON THE Canticles, In English Rhythms.  V. Ad Ephesios, 32. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  xxiv. Matth. 15,  

PERSONAE.  

SPONSA.  
SPONSUS.  
CHORI tres.   

Primus AMICORUM SPONSI.  
Alter FILIARUM HIEROSOLYMITANARUM.  
Tertius MULIERUM è GENTIBUS.    

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

I.  
AVOID Profane, avoid! for such as you  
There is no place, or listening here;  
They're Mysteries, which we sing, and but a few  
Receive them with a well-purged ear:  
To all beside of love they sound,  
Mock-love, that does from every Hill rebound,  
And is no Virgin, when the painted Echoes sound.   

II.  
A Female Love that is, by a truer name  
Lust obscene, and dalliance called;  
For whom th'unhappy wretch, who has a flame,  
To fires of his own kindling's haled:  
Yet such an Empire has she gained,  
So universal, and so well maintained,  
That Verse, as well as Men, she'has to'her service trained.   

III.  
Ah Verse, that e'er thou shouldst be thus abused,  
That thus thyself thou shouldst abuse!  
The Devil, thy enemy, wished thee ne'er worse used,  
Than thou thyself, thyself dost use:  
Quit, quit, thy Chains, ere 'tis too late,  
At length return to thy'unimproved estate,  
Laurels yet grow at th'Altar, where thou first didst wait!   

IV.  
Laurels there grow, and there's a Love Divine,  
Which will completely fill Thy Song;  
A Love that's heaven-born, truly Masculine,  
From whom thou'hast banished been too long:  
Only returned, this caution take,  
As solemn as thou canst new homage make,  
Both for Thine own defence, & Thy chaste followers sake!   

V.  
And thou, 〈◊〉 LIEGE, bright and immortal LOVE,  
Who ere Thou mortal Flesh didst take,  
Descending from Thy azure Throne above,  
An Image of Thyself didst make,  
In which soft thoughts thou didst inspire,  
And threw'st large portions of aethereal Fire,  
To consecrate the shrine, where Thou wouldst in time retire;   

VI  
Thou, who e'er made Man, wouldst as Man be known,  
And transports infinite to ' express,  
Sustaind'st a part, which was no more thine own,  
Th●n as each greater holds its less,  
Wouldst love, and as a Lover sue,  
In Words, and Acts, as Mortal Lovers do,  
And thus THYSELF, thus thy BELOVED to us show:   

VII.  
Showing us thus, as we could it conceive,  
What had from Ages hidden lain,  
The Glories Thou designd'st Thy SPOUSE to give,  
And what to ' effect them was thy pain,  
Flesh of our Flesh, Bone of our Bone,  
Pure GOD, and perfect MAN, in person One,  
The Great-grand-sires Father, and his Virgin daughter's Son:   

VIII.  
In Thine own Words this Mystery to un●old,  
Or still to fold it, guide my Verse;  
Inspire me, as Thou Solomon didst of old,  
That I the Wonder may rehearse:  
And when of Love the terms I use,  
(Thy self its softest terms didst not 〈◊〉)  
The softest to me ' indite, the 〈◊〉 for me choose!   

IX.  
Make my Verse soft, but make it chaste withal,  
These are the Beauties I desire,  
Witness Thyself, whom I the Witness call,  
How pure, and earthless is my Fire:  
That pure, and earthless it may thine,  
Reader, and Writer from all dross 〈◊〉,  
And Thine own Image stamp for'●s guard, on 〈◊〉 own 〈◊〉!    

A PARAPHRASE UPON THE CANTICLES.  
CANTICUM Canticorum Salomonis.  

CAP. I.  
DIVINI AMORIS ECSTASIS Quae & PROTASIS.  SPONSA. SPONSUS. SPONSA. 
Osculetur me osculo. 

I.  

Sponsa.  FALSE Glozing World, in vain  
Juices and Herbs for me Thou dost compound;  
Juices and Herbs, which ne'er can ease my pain,  
Or heal an inward bleeding Wound:  
With love (alas!) I'm pierced to th' heart,  
Beyond Thy skill, or helpless Physics art.   

II.  
Come then, thou heavenly LOVE,  
And with Thee thine own sovereign Medicine bring:  
Come! and the cause of all my griefs remove,  
That I Thy mighty praise may sing:  
Ah! put Thy sacred Lips to mine,  
And let's mix souls, as we chaste Kisses join!   

III.  
Dear Kiss! how sweet it was!  
Above those Spirits, which generous wines exhale;  
Like perfume how it filled the ambient space,  
And in its passage ravished all,  
Virgins, who but Spectators came:  
Sweet are Thy kisses LOVE; sweeter Thy Name.   

IV.  
Only to see my LORD  
They came, but now like me are all on ●ire;  
Draw me, O, draw me by Thy powerful Word,  
One pace shall show our joyn● desire:  
Both they, and I will follow Thee,  
And Thy unransomed Captives ever be.   

V.  
Thy Love at length, blessed King,  
Where all her fears may have an happy end▪  
Into thy Nuptial Chamber please to bring,  
Where we Thy praises may intend,  
And firmly of Thyself possessed,  
Our Mouths with singing fill, with joy our Breast!   

VI  
With songs Our Mouths We'll fill,  
And to exalt Thy Glories never cease;  
The Odorous dews, which from Our Lips distil,  
Shall give Thy Land a rich increase:  
Above all Wines Thy Love we'll raise,  
And just Men with us shall record Thy praise.   

VII.  
I'm black, 'tis true, but so,  
Fair Daughters of jerusalem, as the Tents  
Of Sunburnt Arabs, humble, dark, and low,  
But full of Regal Ornaments;  
Or as those Curtains Solomon  
Draws to conceal from vulgar sight his Throne.   

VIII.  
Unjust you be to despise  
A Face, which only wants your beauteous Charms;  
My Country Sun (alas!) has stained my Eyes,  
And robbed them of so potent Arms:  
From his too near approach I took  
What thus you gaze at, my discoloured look.   

IX.  
My Mother's Sons beside,  
Careless what burden they on me did lay,  
And angry too, to ' a Vineyards scorching side,  
Bound my attendance every day:  
Their Vines too'unfit to keep, when my'own,  
With weeds, for want of dressing, were o'ergrown.   

X.  
Dear LOVE, by whom I'm freed  
And to a nobler Service now designed,  
Tell me, O tell me, where Thy Flocks do feed,  
And what cool shades, at Noon they find;  
Why should I from Thee go away,  
And to the Tents of other Shepherds stray?    SPONSUS, 
Si ignoras te, O Pulcherrima. 

I.  
FAIREST of Women, 
Sponsus.  beauteous Shepherdess,  
If hitherto Thou hast not known  
What walks thy Faithful Shepherd does possess,  
And where my Flocks find shade at Noon,  
This narrow Tract, will to our Sheepcots lead,  
Where thy Kids may securely rest, and safely feed.   

II.  
But, ah, how ill with simple Swains agree  
Those beauties, which are all Divine?  
Pharaoh in triumph born, compared to thee,  
Does with unequal glory shine;  
And though exalted in his Chariot high,  
With more of pomp, wants of thy real Majesty▪   

III.  
To those, who need them, Chains and Bracelets leave,  
My Love has beauties of her own;  
Beauties, which no advance from Art receive,  
Nor owe their flame to ' a sparkling stone:  
For when these Ornaments she please to wear,  
Jewels take lustre from her Eyes, gold from her Hair.   

IV.  
Enough 'tis that she any place will yield,  
Near her, for things I've common made,  
As flints i'th' City, and as grass i'th' Field,  
And with them deigns to be arrayed:  
Tho at her feet the rich Embroidery,  
Low as the Earth its bed, worn in her Train does lie.    SPONSA. 

I.  Dum esset Rex in accubitu suo. 

Sponsa.  MY LOVE, my King, when from thy Fold  
Returned, Thou shalt with me sit down,  
The Prisoner in my Arms I'll hold,  
And his Head with Spik-nard crown:  
He 'twixt my Breasts shall sleep all Night,  
And flames inspire pure as the Midday light.   

II.  
The spicy East, Father of Gums,  
Deserves not to be named with Thee,  
From whom his Myrrh, and Virtue comes,  
Thyself the true Myrrh-bleeding Tree:  
Engaddis Camphire, when it blows,  
Near Thee does all its scent, and spirits lose.   SPONSUS. 
Ecce tu Pulchra es amica. 
WORTHY my Love, 
Sponsus.  how art thou fair,  
Beyond what mortal Women are!  
chaste, and inno'cent, as a Dove,  
Full of mild, and spotless love,  
And from whose Eyes a ray does shine,  
Than Doves more bright, and as Thine own Divine.   SPONSA. 
Ecce tu Pulcher es Dilecte. 
NOT I, 
Sponsa.  'tis Thou, my LOVE, art fair  
Bright as the Sons of Heaven are;  
And those perfections Thou giv'st me,  
Are what I first received from Thee,  
In whom, as in their true Original they be.  
Come then, my HEART, lo, all around,  
With Greene's our Bed, with Flowers I've strewed the ground!  
Come, let us sit down, and beguile,  
Unmist the weary Hours awhile;  
And when the Night recals us home,  
T'our Cedar Palace we will come,  
And of each others Love possessed,  
With jealous boading unopprest,  
On beds of Ivory take our chaste and welcome rest.    

CAP. II.  
EVOCATIO SPONSAE.  SPONSUS. SPONSA. SPONSUS. 
Ego Flos campi & Lilium, etc. 
EARTH'S glit'tring stars, vying with those above, Sponsus.  
Fair Rose, and Lily, emblems of my love,  
As far as mortal Flowers proportion bear  
To Love, and Beauties, which immortal are,  
How gay you look, how pure your flame does shine,  
Fit to resemble, though not equal mine!  
My Dearest is a Lily too,  
Tho in differ'nt s●ites we grow,  
I ith'rich Valley, she on the hard cliffs wrinkled brow.  
With Thorns, and Brambles girt around,  
The Plant not to defend, but wound.  
Yet even thus placed, with such a foil,  
As is the Curse of any soil;  
Tho Lilies one with Thorns compare,  
Lilies amongst Thorns are yet less fair,  
Less beauteous, and less gay,  
And all their glories less display,  
Clothed in pure, and genial light,  
Clothed or naked in their Virgin white;  
Than my BELOVED, amongst the Daughter's shows,  
With Grace upon her Lips, and terror on her Brows.   SPONSA. 
Sicut malus inter ligna. 

I.  
TOO WELL, 
Sponsa.  my LORD, too well I know,  
By what Thou hast compared me now,  
What to myself, what to Thy love I owe.   

II.  
Ah, too short age of withering Flowers,  
The pride of some few sunny Hours,  
But without guard against the Wind, or Showers!   

III.  
And such, just such a Flower am I,  
Whilst on Thy stem, mod'rately high,  
Thou a Tree, deckest with gems the glittering Sky.   

IV.  
But look how th'Apple Tree excels  
Its Brother-plants, tho'it humbler dwells,  
For wholesome shade, and Fruit and odorous smells:   

V.  
(Domestic Tree, which left the Wood,  
Not to be great, but do more good,  
And crown the vilest stock with th' noblest bud.)   

VI  
No otherwise, my LOVE, dost Thou  
Thy Brethren all in Grace outgo,  
How high so ere they raised, and Thou how low.   

VII.  
Hail, happy Tree, under whose shade,  
For cool retreat, and pleasure made,  
Whether I sit, or walk, or down am laid;   

VIII.  
Round there attends me pure delight,  
With all the charms, that can invite  
The gustful palate, or the curious sight.   

IX.  
Not love himself, though th'Architect,  
(And love the Bower did first erect  
Plent'ous in Wines, and beauteous in prospect:)   

X.  
A Bower more lovely could contrive,  
His last effort of skill to give,  
Or where himself might ever wish to live.   

XI.  
Thither he brought me; but to prove,  
No Charms but his my heart could move:  
Love was my guide, His Banner o'er me Love.   

XII.  
Whither, O Love, whither dost Thou fly?  
Look, how smitt'n I wounded lie,  
And, if Thou help not, of the Wound must die!   

XIII.  
Now, ere it be too late, produce  
The choicest spirits Thou e'er didst use,  
The wineful Grape, and thy ' Apples winy juice!   

XIV.  
But come Thyself too, for (alas!)  
I'm sick of love: Thy lefthand place  
Under my head, whole me with th' right embrace!    SPONSUS. 
Adjuro vos, Filiae Jerusalem. 
I COME— but (lo!) how peaceful sleep  
In downy chains does all her Senses keep; 
Sponsus.   
She sleeps, and will do well, composed to rest,  
Of ease, herself, and him she loves, as wished, possessed.  
Mean while, you Daughters of Jerusalem,  
Who are, and to yourselves more glorious seem  
In her attendance, than your own fair stem;  
By the Hills, and by the Lawns,  
By the Roes, and by the Fawns,  
By the Fields, and by the Woods,  
By the Springs, and by the Floods,  
All that I, or you count dear,  
All I love, and all you fear;  
I charge you, I charge you not to awake  
My Love from the rest, which now she does take,  
Till herself pleases the Signal to make!   SPONSA. 
Vox dilecti mei ecce iste, etc. 
WHAT voice was that, 
Sponsus.  which struck my ●ar?  
Ah! 'twas my LOVE, 'twas my LOVES Voice,  
Which, were I dead, would make me hear▪  
And fill me with unutterable joys.  
'Twas He, who spoke, and is he gone?  
Ah me! e'er yet his Words were done,  
So far removed hence, and so soon?  
But he'll return—  
He comes, he comes, I see him come,  
The very Mountains make him room,  
And bow their Heads to yield him way;  
The Hillocks dart a brighter ray;  
Over the Mountain tops he skips,  
Light as the Wind, o'er th' Hillocks trips:  
And now he's there, and now he's here,  
Swift as the fleet wing-footed De●●▪  
And now behind our Wall he stands,  
Looks at the Window, and commands  
My ' attendance, at the Lattice, with his beckoning hands.  
Nay he speaks too, and I hear him say,  
" Rise up, my Love, my Fair one, come away!  
" Winter at length is past, and gone;  
" Look, how th' expected Spring comes on!  
" Apace it comes, on Zephyrs riding,  
" And the Rain, that stopped it chiding.  
" The Rain is gone too, and gives place,  
" And now appears a clearer face  
" Of Heaven, and Earth, than did before:  
" Enough of Storms, there's now no more.  
" Lo! how the Flowers lift up their heads,  
" And start out of their drowsy beds.  
" Waked by the Choir of Birds, that sing  
" And Carol to the new-come Spring.  
" They sing, and dance from bough to bough,  
" As if they Winter ne'er did know;  
" As if they Winter ne'er did fear,  
" And 'twould be Summer all the Year,  
" And every Night, and every Day,  
(" Who more rich, or pleased, than they)  
" Unbidden, Pipe, and unrewarded, play.  
" The Figtree too, on every twig,  
" Puts out its callow unflesht Fig.  
" Unflesht, unripe, unripe tho'it be,  
" Hatc'ht at once by its Mother-Tree;  
" Born at one pang, without the throws,  
" The hard teeming Olive undergoes,  
" That Gems, and Flowers, and flowering dies,  
" ere th' half formed Embry'o up does rise:  
" Or the slow Vine its clusters brings,  
" That gentle Plant, made up of Rings,  
" Crisped, and curled, and wondrous sweet,  
" But modest too, and veiled tooth feet.  
" Which in their courses, all attend,  
" And forth their Odours all do send,  
" The Springs to perfume, and thy way,  
" Rise up my Love, my Fair One, come away!  
Thus, thus but softer 'twas he spoke,  
With words a very Rock would break,  
And e'ven in Stones impression make;  
Hark, and you too, O Friends, may hear him sp●ak▪   SPONSUS. 
Columba mea in foraminibus, etc. 
MY DOVE, 
Sponsus.  that in the Cliffs dost dwell,  
And there to stones thy griefs dost tell,  
To stones, which nor Thy plaints can hear,  
Nor a part with Thee in them bear,  
Not lend one sigh, nor shed one tear,  
Come forth of Heaven, and me beloved,  
And be to a better Seat removed!  
To one less deaf thy prayers direct,  
Whom as Thyself, but more they may affect  
Make them, my Love, make them to me,  
And let me Her, who makes them see!  
Thy Voice, though hoarse with calling grown,  
And almost to Thyself unknown,  
To me as sweet, as e'er it was,  
As Charming seems, and full of Grace;  
And thy fair Eyes, with tears be spent,  
Look through the liquid Crystal far more Orient.  
" For why to Heaven no pompous Sacrifice,  
" Than Holy Prayer can more accepted rise:  
" And the Lamb's Bride no richer Garment wears,  
" Than simple White, or powdered with her pearly tears.  
Come then of Heav●n, and me beloved,  
And be to a better Seat removed!  
— SHE comes, she comes, I see her come,  
The Cliffs, that held her, make her room;  
And stoop their Heads, to plain her way,  
Our Lawns reflect her brighter ray!  
Take us the while, the Foxes take,  
Which in our Vineyards Burroughs make!  
The little Foxes, which dispoil  
Our Vines, into a Gin beguile;  
For there's a blessing in our Vine;  
The tender Grape begins to shine,  
A blessing of its own, her blessing 't has, and mine.   SPONSA. 
Dilectus meus mihi, etc. 
WHO would not such a Dear One love, 
Sponsa.   
Who thus, and thousand ways does prove,  
How constant He, how great my bliss?  
My ' BELOVED's MINE, and I AM HIS:  
His, who amongst the Lilies feeds,  
And with them to be crowned, first for them bleeds.  
O! were that Day come, and the Night  
Gone, which retards Thy gladsome sight!  
Hasten it, LOVE, and bring the Day,  
The shadows soon will flee away,  
If Thou on Bethers top appear,  
Swift as the fleet wing-footed Deer;  
On Bethers top shedding Thy Light,  
Fleet as their heels, and than their horns more bright.    

CAP. III.  
DOLOUR DE ABSENTIA SPONSI.  SPONSA. CHORUS Amicorum Sponsi. SPONSA SOLA. 
In Lectulo meo per Noctes. 
'TWAS Night, 
Sponsa.  a sad and dismal Night,  
Without one glim of cheerful Light;  
Silence, and horror seized its place,  
And rioted i'th' empty space;  
When wakeed with dread, Lo! all alone  
I found myself, my LOVE was gone.  
With trembling Hand, to find him out,  
I felt, I sought, but found him not.  
At last thus to myself I said,  
" I'll up, and see whither he ' is strayed:  
" Fearless the City compass round,  
" Nor give o'er till my LOVE is found.  
" No labour spare i'th' quest, or pains,  
" Through the broad Streets, and narrow Lanes,  
" But every Lane, and every Street,  
" Measure out with my weary Feet,  
" And thus, or find him, or thus prove,  
My truth to His, and to my Love.  
I spoke, I rose, but in vain sought,  
And tired myself, yet found him not.  
Him I found not, but they found me,  
Who the City-Warders be;  
And in their Night-walks compass it,  
Amazed a stricter Watch to meet,  
And thus themselves first asked to be,  
" Him, whom my Soul loves did you see?  
My steps scarce from them could I move,  
But I found Him my Soul does love.  
I held him fast, nor would let go my hold,  
chaste in my Love, and in his Favour bold,  
Till to my Mother's House I brought Him,  
And all my adventurous search had taught him,  
To the glad room, where I was born,  
But in my Birth less joyous than in his return.  
And now, fair Daughters of Jerusalem,  
Who are, and to yourselves more glorious seem,  
In his attendance than your own fair stem;  
By the Hills, and by the Launs,  
By the Roes, and by the Fauns,  
By the Fields, and by the Woods,  
By the Springs, and by the Floods,  
All that I or you count dear,  
All he loves, and all I fear:  
I charge you, I charge you not to awake  
My LOVE from the rest, which now he does take,  
Till himself pleases the signal to make!   CHORUS Amicorum Sponsi. 
Quae est ista quae ascendit per, etc. 
WHAT fair One's that, 
Chorus.  who from the Desert comes,  
Straight as a Palm, and breathing Odorous Gums;  
Or like those Pillars, which from th' Altar rise,  
Of mystic Smoke, on which heavens Pavement lies;  
Th' expiring Soul of Myrrh, to its last abode  
Hasting, as if 'twould be itself a God?  
So choice a Beauty, and Divinely fair,  
A mien so lovely, and so bright an Air,  
Centred in whom all just Perfections meet,  
The Wise, the Good, the Awful, and the Sweet,  
Is only worthy him, whose sacred Love,  
None equal knows, but his, who reigns above.  
Behold his Bed (his Bed that's Salomon's,  
As far as Heaven admits comparisons)  
No Queen need dread the terrors of the Night,  
With such a Watch, so ' appointed, and so bright.  
About it Sixty valiant Grooms attend,  
Such as for triumph Israel forth does send.  
All valiant Men, and expert all in War,  
Girt as in Fight her mighty Conquerors are;  
Each with his Sword upon his guarded Thigh,  
And able each an Army to defy,  
But whose united Forces all meet here,  
To keep the Post and drive thence grizly fear.  
A Chair the King, of Cedar too has made,  
The cleanest Trees that Libanus e'er had,  
Whose Balli'sters are of finest Silver wrought,  
The floor of Gold, from Ophirs treasures brought;  
Its Cano'py of the richest Tyrian dye,  
Enough to upbraid a meaner Majesty.  
Such the Materials, but Art Divine,  
Ith' Workmanship does Nature far outshine.  
For all with winged Loves 'tis Carved around,  
Love in more various postures ne'er was found.  
Some on heavens Message flying, from above,  
Thither advancing some our mortals love,  
Which all refined, like Prophets, others Preach,  
But learn of Zions Daughters, whom they seem to teach.  
— These are the shadows, fair One, of that bliss  
Awaits Thy love, and all are Myste'ries:  
Which none, but he that's Wise, can understand,  
Nor any write but with a guided Hand.   SPONSA. 
Egredimini & videte filiae Zion. 
DAUGHTERS of Jerusalem, 
Sponsa.   
The fairest Sprouts of Zions stem,  
Come forth, my Friends, come forth, and see  
What mine, and what your Honours be!  
You will remember th'happy Day,  
(And well remember it, you may)  
When first your King received his Crown,  
King Solomon, and 'twas his own,  
Not of the Kingdom but of his Love;  
And it the fairer Crow'n did prove.  
From ' his Mothers Hands the joyful Son,  
On ' his Nuptial Day received the Crown.  
But such a Son, and such a Mother,  
Vying Glories each with th' other,  
And such a Crown, and such a Day,  
When in chaste Joys dissolved they lay,  
The happy Bridegroom, and the Bride,  
And you, their Friends, on either side,  
If once again you'd wish to see,  
And greater Joys than those could be,  
Come, and my greater SALOMON behold,  
More glorious in his Love, than he in all his Gold.    

CAP. IU.  
CATASTASIS.  SPONSUS, SPONSA. SPONSUS. 
Quam Pulchra es Amica mea. 

I.  
BEHOLD Thou thou art fair, 
Sponsus.  my Love, behold Thou art Fair,  
Let the World know, and know it Thou;  
But (alas!) what Thy hidden Beauties are,  
Nor thou, nor that, till by me taught, can know:  
Till Thee, by all that's Beauteous I compare,  
And after all rejoin, Thou thou art yet more Fair.   

II.  
Begin my Song! But where shall I begin?  
Ah! where, but with Thy Dovelike Eyes,  
Those Doors of Dia'mond, which first let me in,  
And of my Passion, were the Virgin prize?  
Love thence redoubled on me his thick strokes,  
But, sallying forth, lay fettered in thy Locks.   

III.  
Locks of that Head, which does like Gilead shine,  
When on the Golden Fleeces there,  
The jealous Sun, just ready to decline,  
Ith' midway stops, his Tresses to compare▪  
But brighter far, and longer too are they,  
Than Sunbeam, in the fairest Summer-day.   

IV.  
Such is thy Hair, thy Teeth like couples thence,  
All washed in Aenons' streams, and shorn;  
In Aenons' Silver streams, and rising whence,  
To th' joyful shearing House new washed they ' are born:  
Each has its make, and Twins they bear all round,  
Nor is a barren One i'th' number found.   

V.  
And as Thy Teeth, such are Thy Lips, their Fence,  
The purest Wool, with the noblest Dye;  
And every graceful Word, that's uttered thence,  
On purple Wings, to Thy ' lovers Heart does fly;  
Thy Cheeks, hid under Thy bright Curls, appear  
Like shaded Pomegranates, but shine more clear.   

VI  
But, O, Thy Neck, that Tower impregnable,  
How full of Beauty, and of Dread?  
Like that of David, built for a Citadel  
With thousand spoils of the Living and the Dead.  
A thousand Shields of th' Mighty hang up there,  
All mighty Shields, and but thy Necklace are.   

VII.  
Yet such a Citadel, and such a Tower,  
To guard those Twins there was but need,  
Those two Roe-twins, of all the Herd the Flower,  
Which under it, among the Lilies feed;  
Thy two fair Breasts, which yet to Lilies give  
A tincture brighter, than they thence receive.   

VIII.  
Till the Day come, my Love, the Bridal-Day,  
For which thou less than I dost long;  
Till the Night's shadows swiftly flee away,  
A while I'll leave Thee, a little while be gone:  
To th' Hills of Myrrh, and Frankincense I'll go,  
And fetch the Morning, as it begins to blow.   

IX.  
Yet (ah!) I cannot leave Thee, Love, thus soon,  
My Love thus soon I cannot leave;  
Our Flocks may gaze, for 'tis yet scarce High-noon,  
And we, till Folding time, the Hours deceive.  
Thou art all fair, my Love, all fair Thou art,  
And first I'll die, e'er from Thee thus depart.   

X.  
Rather a while, my Love, let ' us hand in hand,  
To Liban walk, and Amana;  
Shenir, and Hermon, which large views command,  
And thence see how our Lambs do feed and play,  
Whether unscared they from the Lion's rest,  
Or Leopard's paws, and where the next Folding's best.   

XI.  
They ' are safe, my SPOUSE, they ' are safe, but (Oh) my heart,  
SISTER, my Heart (Oh) where is't gone?  
For gone it is, I know, by the pleasing smart;  
Welfare poor Heart, that's from its Master flown!  
But this one glance, one Eyes bright glance has done:  
Who's proof for both, if thus Thou wound'st with One?   

XII.  
Yet as Thou thou hast ta'en my Heart, so keep it fast!  
A single Chain is strong enough,  
One link o'th' Chain, with which thy Neck is graced,  
To hold, fast hold a never starting Love;  
My SPOUSE, my SISTER, I'm Thy Captive made,  
Bind him, nor of Thy Priso'ner be afraid!   

XIII.  
A willing Captive, Prisoner of Thy love,  
Which guess how strong, and fair it is;  
So strong 't has drawn me from my Throne above,  
And truly hides a God in this disguise:  
So fair, that Thee no less to Heaven 't shall raise,  
To Crown Thy Maker with Immortal Bays.   

XIV.  
But this, till to ' Heaven we come, I'll let alone,  
Nor canst Thou understand it yet;  
Wherefore Thy Love by things to Thee well known,  
As thou canst bear, I will before Thee set;  
To Wine compare 't, though better 'tis than Wine,  
And all Thy Odours are of race Divine.   

XV.  
Thy Lips, my SPOUSE, drop as the Hony-comb,  
Honey and Milk are in Thy Tongue;  
Some drops for Susten'ance, and for Medicine some,  
The Weak to nourish, and confirm the Strong:  
Like Libanus, Thy perfumed Garments smell,  
Liban, that does all Mounts, for Sweets excel.   

XVI.  
All, but that Garden, in the holy Mount,  
Where I design three Nights to lie,  
In Spices wrapped, as Prophets shall recount,  
And notice give the World, when the time draws nigh:  
Yet such a Garden, and so sweet art Thou,  
My SPOUSE, my SISTER, when Thy Spices blow.   

XVII.  
A Garden fenced, and all enclosed around,  
Locked up, and double is the Key,  
With a quick Spring, that waters the holy Ground,  
And all its parching Fervors does allay;  
But so sealed up, the curious passer by  
With Foot ne'er soiled, ne'er saw it with his Eye.   

XVIII.  
To none but its own sacred Plants it slows,  
Making the place a Paradise,  
Where nothing noxious, or forbidden grows,  
Nothing, but what will make one truly wise:  
Or make, or please, or truly keep one so;  
For all there planted, as its Trees do grow.   

XIX.  
The pomegranate is there, and there the Date,  
The Spikenard, and the Cypress Tree,  
Spikenard and Saffron, and hi'ther brought of late,  
The sweet-Cane, cinnamon, and all sorts that be  
Of Frankincense, Myrrh, Aloes, and a Train  
Of Princely Spices, wont in th' East to Reign.   

XX.  
There Reign they, but here serve my Love, and me,  
Whose Fountain all their drought supplies,  
And slows so largely, constant, and so free,  
Th' whole World may have for its necessities:  
Jordan that sacred, and perpetual Flood,  
Had not more streams, when like the Sea on heaps it stood.    SPONSA. 
Surge Aquilo & veni Auster. 

I.  
FATHER Winds, 
Sponsa.  that gently ride,  
On downy Feathers, through the Sky,  
You, that i'th' cold North abide,  
And Southern Gales, which cold defy!   

II.  
Northwind awake, and Thou, O South,  
And gently on my Garden blow;  
Blow, gentle Winds, with different Mouth,  
That all its various scents may slow!   

III.  
Then on your Wings the Perfumes take,  
And bear them with you gently Home;  
More grateful your return they'll make,  
And th' young Winds wonder whence you come.   

IV.  
But why, O Winds, first call I you,  
Let my BELOVED rather come!  
More than your Gales his Breath can do,  
Not show, but make my best Perfume.   

V.  
Why comes he not? Ah! where's the Let?  
Now that his Garden's in its prime,  
Now that his Fruits are fit to eat,  
And may be worse another time?     

V.  
CATASTASIS.  SPONSUS. SPONSA. CHORUS. 
CAP. 5.  SPONSUS. 
Veni in Hortum meum Soror. 

I.  
I HEARD Thee call, 
Sponsus.  my Sister, my SPOUSE,  
I heard Thee call, and I came away;  
To my Garden I came, and as Lovers use,  
Have gathered each Flower in my Walk that lay;  
My Myrrh, and my Spices, and all that is rare,  
And thus to my Garden I'll often repair.   

II.  
So pleased I was with each choice delight,  
And delights such as Thine I but rarely meet;  
That, scarce knowing how, I forgot myself quite,  
Nor took time enough to choose only the sweet;  
My Honey and Hony-comb at once devoured,  
And with my Wine, Milk into the Bowl poured.   

III.  
Cheer up, my Friends, and eat your fill,  
Cheer up, and eat, here's store enough,  
Thanks to my bounteous Love,  
And drink, drink plenteously, what each one will!  
" Who fears excess, or fond thinks to spare,  
" Disparages that Heaven, whose Guests we are.    SPONSA. 
Ego dormio, & cor meum vigilat. 
ALL as I slept, 
Sponsa.  but with my waking mind,  
(My Heart slept not, though sleep my Eyes did bind,  
And on my Temples his soft Fillet tied,  
But as I slept and) dead to all beside,  
Lived to my LOVE, a Voice I seemed to hear,  
A shrilling Voice, and piteous, pierced my ear;  
A Voice well known, 'twas my BELOVED's Voice,  
And at the Door he made th' appointed Noise,  
Knocking, and call, Why comes not my Love?  
" Open my SISTER, my ' Undefiled, my Dove,  
" Open, I pray Thee, nor be so unkind,  
" Thus to treat him, who's come thy Love to find;  
" A long, and weary Journey come i'th' Night,  
" Weary and wet, by the Moon's dusky Light.  
" Lo! how my Head with the moist Dew is filled,  
" And the Night's drops through all my Curls distilled!  
" And art Thou come, I flatteringly replied,  
" But why, my Dear, so late, without a Guide?  
" I fear it much, but (ah!) I'm now in Bed;  
" And many a sad distrust nights horrors breed,  
" Ne'er in the dark, i'th' dark here all alone;  
" My Vest's put off, How shall I put it on?  
" My Feet are washed too from the Days foul soil,  
" Nor with new sullies would I them defile.  
" O, how I tremble, and would gladly rise,  
" But dare not, (Oh!) I dare not, LOVE how dark it is!  
I spoke, but 'twas excuse: To be denied,  
Unwilling he, still for admission cried.  
Drawing the Latch, and lifting with his Hand  
The easy Door; grieving he thus should stand,  
My Heart was in me moved, and I began  
To pity him, and my ' unjust self disdain;  
At his so meek attendance did relent,  
And of my own unlovelike words repent.  
So up I rose in haste, and let him in,  
Who was my LOVE, and had so patient been.  
I rose, and to the Door like Lightning flew,  
To th' very place, where he the Latch first drew.  
My Hands dropped Myrrh, which on the Door he left,  
Pure Myrrh, in every chink of th'Door, and cleft,  
Myrrh on the Lock, in every ward was Myrrh,  
And Myrrh, where every busy Finger I could stir.  
But opening,— Woe's me! he was gone;  
Himself, my dearest LOVE, had thence withdrawn.  
My Soul was gone too, roused as I lay,  
And heard him speak, but with him fled away.  
So pensive, all about I for him sought,  
Sought curiously about, but found him not:  
Called him by Name, begged his return to have,  
I called, and sought, but he no answer gave.  
Nor hear, nor find him could I, but they found me,  
They, who the Warders of the City be:  
Unlike in Curtsy, though alike in Name  
Those Just ones, to ' whom in my first search I came,  
Who let me pass unwronged; ● ease barba'rously  
Struck, and did more than strike, have wounded me:  
And though by place, and office bound to look  
No assaults be made, my torn Veil rudely took.  
But you, fair Daughters of Jerusalem,  
From whom much better things to hope I seem,  
Worthy yourselves, and worthy your bright stem.  
If you chance my Love to find,  
Virgins, be to ' a Virgin kind!  
If you chance my LOVE to meet,  
Virgins, be to a Virgin sweet!  
Sweet, and kind so Love to y'ou be,  
As you are kind, and sweet to me!  
I charge you, I charge you by all that is dear,  
My LOVE to inform, that his Wounds I do bear,  
Sick to death with his Love, without his care.   CHORUS Filiarum Hierosolymitanarum. 
Qualis est Dilectus tuus. 
FAIREST of Women, 
Chorus.  if we find  
Thy LOVE, we'll to Thy suit be kind.  
Fairest of Women, if we meet  
Thy LOVE, we'll be as Thou art, sweet.  
(Sweet, and kind, so Love to us be  
As we are kind and sweet to Thee!)  
Tell him all thou hast charged us,  
In terms, like Thine, obsequious.  
But, if unseasonable it is not,  
Nor we be too o'er curious thought,  
Be pleased t' advise us, what above  
All other Lovers, is Thy LOVE,  
In Air, and rich Endowments large,  
That us Thou giv'st so strict a charge?   SPONSA. 
Dilectus meus candidus & rubicundus. 
FAIR Ones, 
Sponsa.  though that, which you of me require,  
And which myself should in your place desire,  
Be far above all Art, or Skill of mine  
As it deserves in Colours to design,  
Yet that I may my just Compliance show,  
The best that's in my power I'll gladly do.  
Help, help me LOVE, to give each part its grace,  
Nor from my humble Verse, or Heart, their Lines efface!  
WHITE, and ruddy is my LOVE,  
As when the Rose and Lily strove.  
White and pure, as Midday Light;  
Ruddy as Clouds that fly the Night,  
And even or'e-taken blushing run,  
Blushing to o'ertake the setting Sun,  
And wish him in the Sea headlong plunge down▪  
The Banner worthy ●alone to bear,  
Under which Myriads listed are.  
Around his Head a Ray divine,  
Bright as the purest Gold does shine.  
His Locks as any Raven black,  
Hang in loose Curls down his Back.  
His Eyes like Doves by ' a Rivers side,  
Well set, and with a decence wide,  
As washed in Milk, are lovely white,  
But sparkling Fire from the kill sight.  
His Cheeks with spicy mixtures flow,  
Flourets i'th' downy Borders grow.  
His Lips the choicest Myrrh distil,  
Lilies the parting Valley fill.  
His Hands with Rings of Berril set,  
Of Jacynct, and of Chrysolet.  
His Chest's like polished Ivory,  
Whose Veins of liquid Saphir lie.  
Two Pedestals of solid Gold  
His Marble-pillared Thighs uphold.  
Libanus only is his Peer,  
Ith' fairest Cedar growing there.  
Straight as a Cedar and as tall,  
(By Trees to express the Natural)  
But when he speaks, so ' himself he is,  
With every Grace, and every Bliss,  
Whole Liba'nus is unfit to be,  
With all its stores, the Portrait of his Deity.  
Such, fair Daughters of Jerusalem,  
Such is my LOVE, and such my Friend;  
If such an One you chance to find,  
Self him for me, when y'have by th' Marks discovered him.    

VI  
AMBITIO SPONSAE.  CHORUS Filiarum Hieros●lymitanarum. 
CAP. 7.  SPONSA, SPONSUS, CHORUS alter Mulierum è Gentibus. CHORUS. Fil. Hier. 
Quo abiit Dilectus tuus O Pul●●erri●●a? 
WHITHER is thy BELOVED gone, 
Chorus.   
Fairest of Women, whither turned aside?  
Tell us, if Thou hast his retirements known,  
Or deign Thyself to be our Guide!  
In every place, we'll with Thee seek Him out,  
And find, 
〈…〉  or else be found of Him they sought.   SPONSA. 
Dilectus meus descends in Hor●um. 
DOWN to his Garden my BELOVED went.  
To ' his Garden, as I thought, with full intent,  
The Beds of Spices, in his Walk to see,  
How fresh and verdant in his Livery.  
There to divert a while, and feed his Flock,  
And newblown Lilies gather from his Stock.  
— But (Lo!) I see him, this way the steps incline.  
I my BELOVED's AM, and HE IS MINE.  
His, none but his, who amongst the Lilies feeds,  
And with them to be Crowned, first for them bleeds.   SPONSUS. 
Pulchra es Amica mea, etc. 

I.  
BELOVED, 
Sponsus.  Thou thou art fair, my Love, behold Thou thou art fair,  
As Tirza, which for Empire strove  
With th' holy City ', and with it would compare;  
Fair as Jeru'salem, coming from above:  
So fair art Thou, but dreadful too withal,  
As a ranged Phalanx, at the Trumpets call.   

II.  
Ah! from me turn those kill Eyes away,  
Too piercing is their beauteous sight;  
I yield, my Love, I yield, Thou hast gained the Day,  
And all in vain I see it is to fight:  
Thou needest but only look to overcome;  
And, bound in Chains, thy Captives are led home.   

III.  
Chains of that Hair, that does like Gilead shine,  
When on the Golden Fleeces there,  
The jealous Sun, just ready to decline,  
Ith' Mid-Heav'n stops, his Tresses to compare;  
But brighter far, and longer much are they,  
Than Sunbeam in the fairest Summer-day.   

IV.  
Such are Thy Locks, Thy Teeth like couples thence,  
All washed in Aenons' Streams, and shorn,  
In Aenons' Silver Streams, and rising whence,  
To th' joyful Shearing-house, new washed theyare born:  
Each has its make, and Twins they bear all round,  
Nor is a Barren one i'th' number found.   

V.  
Thy Cheeks, which underneath Thy Temples lie,  
And there their modest blushes hide,  
In such a Veil, as does all Art defy,  
(Nature for Virgins does that Veil provide)  
Thy Cheeks, all veiled within Thy Curls, appear  
Like shaded Pomegranates, but shine more clear.   

VI  
Tho threescore Queens, and fourscore Concubines,  
And Virgins numberless there be;  
Ten thousand Virgins, Concubines, and Queens,  
Nor are, nor ever were so fair as She:  
She, who's my Dove, my Undefiled, the One,  
Mine and her Morthers, more than all, alone.   

VII.  
The Virgins saw her, and their blessings sent,  
heavens tenderest blessings on her shoured;  
As if th' officious drops they on her spent,  
Should on themselves again, in streams be poured:  
The Queens, and Concubines by different ways,  
Whom yet they envied, could not choose but praise.    CHORUS Mulierum ê Gentibus. 
Quae est ista quae progreditur quasi Aurora? 
WHAT fair One's that, 
Chorus.  who like the Day,  
From its dark Prison broke away,  
Comes gently on, all crowned with Light,  
The Rosy-fingered Morn in white;  
And as She still does draw more near,  
Still more radiant does appear?  
How fair She is, as Midnight Moon,  
Radiant too as Midday Sun;  
Clear, and bright, but terrible withal,  
As a ranged Phalanx at the Trumpets call.   SPONSA Sola. 
Descendi in Hortum Nucum. 
DOWN to my Garden am I come; 
Sponsa.  and here,  
How fresh, how verdant all my Fruits appear!  
To see I'm come, how my Nuts clusters grow,  
How my Vines shoot, and the Pomgranats blow,  
But hold!— What sudden change is it I feel?  
What 'tis I know not, how I cannot tell;  
But now, methinks, I mount, and now I fly:  
Lo! how the Earth, and Clouds beneath me lie;  
And now to th' Empyrean I approach,  
And starry is my Way, a Cherub is my Coach.   CHORUS Mulierum è Gentibus. 
Revertere, Revertere Sunamitis. 
WHither, 
Chorus.  O Sulamite, whither so fast,  
And why thus soon, to leave us, all this haste?  
Return, O Sulamite, return, that we  
On equal ground may thy chaste Beauties see!  
Return, that we a while may on Thee gaze;  
Return, or us together with Thee raise.   SPONSA. 
Quid videbis in Sunamite? 
AH! 
Sponsa.  too o'er curious, and too overbold,  
What is't you'd in the Sulamite behold?  
What is't, when all that you can in her see,  
Are but the Lines of a tremendous Majesty.  
As when two Armies ready are to join,  
And with stern Looks, to th' onset give the Sign.    

VII.  
AMORES MUTUI.  SPONSUS SPONSA. 
CAP. 7.  SPONSUS. 
Quam pulchri sunt gressus tui in calceamentis? 
FAIR One, 
Sponsus.  who dost from Loins of Kings descend,  
The King, whose Empire does o'er all extend,  
Beyond those Worlds, which undiscovered lie,  
Ith' boundless circuit of th' All-embracing Sky,  
Let others, as they please, recount Thy praise,  
I from the ground its Monument will raise.  
Those parts of Thee which have the lowest place,  
But beauteous in their kind—  
Thy Feet, which on their well fixed bases, bear  
The fairest Pile, that Nature e'er did rear.  
How glorious are they, when Thou lead'st Thy Flock,  
Or on Thy buskins raised, or in thy humble Sock?  
The juncture of Thy Thighs like Jewels are,  
The Work of the most famed Artificer.  
Thy Navel (nor let Scoffers here blaspheme  
The Mysteries of the New Jerusalem,  
Or to vile Lust debase the noble Theme.)  
But like a Goblet round Thy Navel is,  
Brim full, and flowing with the richest Juice.  
Thy Belly pregnant with a numerous Train,  
Which heavens void space, shall People once again.  
Like heaps of Wheat, with Lilies set around,  
Thy Children show, and how their Mother's Crowned.  
Thy breast's like two Twin-Roses, and Twins they are,  
In all the Herd there's not a lovelier pair.  
Thy Neck is like a Tower of Ivory,  
Hung with the Trophies of Love's Victory.  
Thy Eyes surpass the Silver Streams, that run  
By Bathrabbim, to th' Pools of Essebon.  
Thy Nose, of perfect shape, like a Fort Royal stands,  
Off from Thy Cheeks, and th' under Plains commands.  
Or like Love's Labyrinth, by the Forest side,  
Pointing, and to Damascus opening wide.  
Thy Head's like Carmel, and Thy purple Hair,  
The brightest Dye th' Assyrian Fleece can bear.  
Fettered in its soft Chains the King doth lie,  
Enamoured of the Bands of his Captivity.  
How fair art Thou! how made for all delight!  
Slender, clean Limbed, and, as a Palm, upright?  
Grow, happy Tree, the Queen of all the Wood,  
Grow, as Thou dost, less great than Thou art good!  
In whose warm Bosom, the Vines clusters rest,  
And show, and seem themselves, the swellings of Thy Breast.  
Up to the Palmtree I'll ascend, I said,  
Palm in my Hand; with Palm Ill crown my Head;  
The blushing clusters with my Lips I'll seize,  
And all their winy juice, rich Wines express:  
With which inflamed, I'll cooling Apples take,  
Apples, the best repast that Lovers make;  
Apples, whose Cordial they the best can tell,  
Apples, which like Thy perfumed Breath do smell.  
Apples, Thy Breath: Thy Speech is generous Wine,  
That sparkles in the Cup, and gives its shine;  
Moves itself right, to my Beloved goes,  
Goes as it can, and all its Wonders shows:  
Making the Lips of those, who sleep to speak,  
And at one touch their Chains and silence break.   SPONSA. 
Fgo Dilecto me, & add me conversio ejus. 
I My BELOVED's am alone, 
Sponsa.   
And beside me has he none;  
None beside me does he love,  
Equal none, and none above.  
Mine he is and mine alone,  
And beside him have I none;  
None beside him do I love,  
Equal none, and none above.  
Come then my LIFE, ah! come away!  
Ith' City let's not ever stay;  
But look how our Fields do smile,  
And in the Villas lodge a while.  
There, with the Sun, We'll early rise,  
And visiting our Nurseries,  
See how the Vines their Branches spread,  
And the young Grape shoots forth his head:  
And how the Pomegranates do blow.  
But then my LOVE less ruddy show.  
My Loves there will I to Thee give.  
Loves in the Country happie'st live.  
The Mandrag's there, that Love excites,  
The Mandrag, chief in Love's delights;  
Which forward now, begins to ' appear,  
And fumes our Gates with its Rosy Hair.  
With many a Fruit, and many a Flower,  
Which I will in Thy Bosom pour.  
Store of Pleasures, new, and old,  
More than can of Tongue be told.  
More, if possible, than enough,  
And all reserved for Thee, my LOVE.    

VIII.  
CATASTROPHE.  SPONSA. CHORUS Gentium. 
CAP. 8.  SPONSUS. SPONSA. 
Quis mihi det te Fratrem meum? 
I LOVE, 
Sponsa.  but cannot yet my LOVE enjoy,  
Ah! Love that Thou shouldst have so much alloy!  
Still some nice thing to interrupt Our bliss,  
Something to fault, which yet we would not miss!  
This as I think, I wish Thou wert my BROTHER,  
Thou my Soul loves, the Son of my own Mother:  
How would I ' embrace Thee then, and kiss thine Eyes,  
Where e'er I meet Thee, safe from base surmise!  
Home would I lead Thee to my Mother's House,  
And, by her taught, the happy Moment use;  
Talk o'er our Loves, fill, fill the Wine,  
The spicy blood of th' pomegranate and Vine.  
Satiate with which, Thou shouldst thy Lefthand place  
Under my Head, whole me with the right embrace.  
'Tis done, and see he sleeps—  
Fair Daughters of Jerusalem,  
Who are, and to yourselves more glorious seem,  
In our attendance, than your own bright Stem,  
By the Hills, and by the Launs,  
By the Roes, and by the Fauns,  
By the Fields, and by the Woods,  
By the Springs, and by the Floods,  
All that I or you count dear,  
All he loves, and all I fear:  
I charge you, I charge you not to awake  
My LOVE, from the rest, which now he does take,  
Till himself pleases the signal to make!   CHORUS Gentium. 
Quae est ista, quae ascendit de deserto? 
WHAT fair One's that (but words can ne'er express 
Chorus.   
How fair she is) who from the Wilderness,  
Leaning on her BELOVED's Arm ascends,  
And hitherward their amo'rous Journey tends.  
They ' are come, and now approached so near,  
That were't not rudeness, we their privacies may hear.   SPONSUS. 
Sub arbore malo suscitavi te. 
— THERE 'twas, under the Appletree, 
Sponsus.   
Where first I found, and first raised Thee.  
Thy Mother there her Fruit disclosed,  
And there thou first didst lie exposed,  
And hadst lain still, but that I came,  
I ●d to Thy rescue, by my first Loves purest flame.   SPONSA. 
Pone me ut signaculum super Cor. 
Sponsa.  
BLESSED, ever blessed be that Day.  
When t●us Thou cam'est, and thus I lay!  
O let us never, never part,  
But make me ' a Scal upon Thy Heart!  
A Badge Thou on Thy Arm mayst wear,  
That where Thou art, I may be there,  
And never, never from Thee part,  
But always on, or next Thy Heart!  
" For love, (And who loves more than I?)  
" Stronger than Death, does Death defy.  
" His Conquests like the Graves, extend,  
" And further, up to Heaven his flames ascend.  
" But never was there such a Flame,  
" As that, in which to me he came;  
" So dreadful, scorching, and so bright,  
" I blessed, but trembled at the sight.  
" A Fire; Love was himself that Fire,  
" Which in no Waters will expire:  
" But, even in Floods, securely lives,  
" And all their watery threats survives.  
" Nor quench, nor drown it can the Flood,  
" Nor buy it, all the seeming good  
" This World, that mighty Chapman, boasts  
" In his vast Traffic through all Coasts.  
" For so invaluable is its price,  
" And its exchange so monstrous high does rise,  
" The Universe too little is for ' its Merchandise.   CHORUS Gentium, etc. 
Soror nostra parva & ubera non habet. 
A LITTLE Sister yet we have, 
Chorus.   
For whom we'd Love's assistance crave.  
Young, and little, though she ' is yet,  
And her Breast not fully set,  
Tho as yet no Breasts she has,  
Grow our Sister does apace.  
But if thus high Love's price does go,  
What shall we for our little Sister do,  
When the time comes, that we should her bestow?   SPONSUS. 
Si murus est aedificemus super. 
IF, when grown up, your Sister prove a Wall, 
Sponsus.   
We'll on her build a Silver Arcenal;  
Defence, and Ornament we'll to her give,  
And all her Stones shall, as i'th' Quarry, live.  
If, when grown up, your Sister prove a Door,  
With Cedar mouldings we will case her o▪ re;  
With Frieze, and Cornice all her Pillars crown,  
And to her sacred Glories add our own.   SPONSA. 
Ego Murus & ubera mea sicut Turris. 
BUT I'm a Wall, and my soft Breasts full grown, 
Sponsa.   
Like Towers, upon the subject Camp look down.  
My constancy to guard the Fort does stand,  
And dares the rudest Shock, of th' roughest Hand.  
This as my WELLBELOVED heard me say,  
The Holy Boast he did approve;  
And in his Eyes I found such grace that Day,  
I dare no longer doubt his Love.   SPONSUS. 
Vinea fuit Pacifico in ea, etc. 
I HAVE a Vineyard, so has Solomon; 
Sponsus.   
His at a distance lies, in Baal-hannon,  
To Keepers, and to Under-Keepers set,  
And Yearly, for a thousand pieces let.  
But mine, the Vineyard that's my own, does lie  
In my own care, and ever in my Eye.  
Accountable for ' its Fruits to me alone,  
And sharers in them, with me, have I none.  
Compare we now our Vineyards, peaceful King!  
Which does to ' its Lord the greatest Profit bring?  
Thine for a thousand Pieces yields its store;  
Admit it do; 'tis worth two hundred more,  
But these the Keepers have: Mine is my own,  
Accountable for ' its Fruits to me alone,  
(As for its care) and sharers have I none.  
Thou art that Vineyard, Love, my Vineyard Thou,  
Who in the Flowery Gardens dwellest low;  
Low, but with all the Stars of th' Garden crowned,  
And Thy Companions sitting Thee around,  
Attended, and listening to Thy tuneful Voice;  
O, make me hear it, and fulfil my Joys!   SPONSA. 
Fuge Dilecte mi & assimilare, etc. 
AND so Thou shalt— 
Sponsa.   
LOVE, bring the Day,  
Haste it, LOVE▪ and come away!  
On th' Spicy Mountain tops appear,  
Swift as the fleet-wing footed Deer!  
And driving thence the baleful Night,  
On th' Spicy Mountains shed Thy Light,  
Fleet as their heels, and than their Horns more bright!  
Veni Domine, JESV, Veni citò!  
SOLI DEO GLORIA.  
Cujus Amore inflammato corde haec occini,  
Inscius licet, & indignus: Suscipe laudes  
Famuli tui. AMEN.   
Apud Hartley Maudet. Com. Southton, in Vigiliâ Ascensionis. MDCLXXVII.    

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. THE LEGEND OF LOVE,  

CANTO. I.  

I.  
SONG, which the God of Love did first inspire,  
Not he the blind, and sottish World calls so,  
No God, nor ought save a wild raging Fire,  
Which with incessant Bellows Lust does blow,  
But HE, to whom all things their being owe,  
In whom alone they live, in whom they move,  
And, by his Love made, to perfection grow,  
All who below adore Him, or above,  
The Mighty Lord of Hosts, the very GOD of LOVE,   

II.  
Song, by the very God of Love inspired,  
And of a thousand more the sacred Chief,  
But wherein Solomon, from himself retired,  
Not what his Love, but what was his belief,  
(Songs ill became the cause of all his Grief,  
If love we to our Mortal Standart bring,  
Whose spoils are Robbe'ries, and whose God's a thief)  
Under Love's borrowed name to th' World did sing,  
LOVE is the borrowed Name, Holy Churches FAITH the thing▪   

III.  
Song, which the borrowed Name dost understand,  
And all the Mysteries which in it lie,  
For 'tis the Dialect of the Heavenly Land,  
Nor as to us it sounds does signify,  
(Blest Souls in Love discourse with the most High)  
Thou, who know'st this, and more than this, whence came  
The profanation of the Deity,  
And how this lustful Earth took th' empty Name,  
Embracing sulphu'rous clouds, for its God's purest flame.   

IV.  
Tell the World, Song, whence first its madness grew!  
Who knows not th● World is mad? Thou best of all,  
Which, if 'twere possible Inno'cence to renew,  
To its first Inno'cence wouldst the World recall,  
And more than e'er it lost i'th' wretched Fall:  
By love Thou callst it, and the Voice is known,  
Well known 's the Voice, but we too sensual,  
So brutish in our Lust's obscene are grown,  
That called by its name, we think't an Idol of our own.   

V.  
Yet none of ours is what we ' have stolen the name,  
That Idol, which we thus with Myrtles crown,  
But with our form from Heaven at once it came,  
From Heaven was with a Silver Cord let down,  
And into the Souls mass divinely thrown,  
To be its Salt, miraculously contrived;  
And first in Heaven the name of Love was known,  
From whence at length it hither was derived,  
And here a while such, and so called in pleasure lived.   

VI  
In pleasure ' it lived, and with its changed abode,  
Strangely surprised, was strangely pleased awhile,  
At first perceived not the unusual load,  
But in her Face, who should betray ' it, did smile,  
As fearless, as unconscious yet of guile:  
And to a Body though it were designed,  
A Body, as the Land of its exile,  
All parts so ' agreeable, and soft did find,  
It's Tour seemed thence enlarged more, than confined.   

VII.  
For all with Spirits it did converse before,  
Itself a Spirit, but when the Eternal Mind  
To new displays of his creating Power,  
In beings of a lower Rank inclined,  
Which Angels yet should not come far behind;  
Soon as the great Resolve was passed above,  
And Man of all those Works the Lord designed,  
Love the first mover, and the last, did move,  
That He, whom all obeyed, o'er all should rule by Love.   

VIII.  
It moved thus, and the motion was embraced,  
Als' ' Love, that made it downwards took its way;  
And viewing how the Bodies parts were cast,  
Seized, with the Spirit, the scarce yet moulded Clay,  
Nor for partition, or nice choice did stay,  
But blending both together, seized the whole;  
Both in the whole, whole both in each part lay,  
And both together making th' humane Soul,  
Th' unactive Matter did both quicken, and control.   

IX.  
The Spi'rit gave Life, with what to Life pertain,  
Sense, Motion, and the several Faculties,  
A cheerful, goodly, and a pompous Train,  
When ruled, as they ' aught, and managed by the Wise;  
The wise is Love, that th' whole unites, and ties,  
And which, where e'er it undisturbed does reign,  
Makes th' earthly frame, with th' Heavenly sympathise,  
Nor to rebel dare any passion strain,  
When o'er them reason, o'er that love does hold the rain.   

X.  
Thus i'th' first happy Pair, a while Love reigned,  
And but a while, with regal Sovereignty,  
Who to its Lore so early both were trained,  
That Love itself, as rapt in ecstasy,  
Wondered what in dull Flesh the effects might be.  
It wondered, but so chaste, and innocent,  
So Love-conspiring every part did see,  
And so obsequious to its great intent,  
That Love itself enamoured was of its descent.   

XI.  
Forty the happy pair, with severed flame,  
Which yet in both was one, to love inclined;  
Two downwards only, but rise'n whence it came,  
Again collected in one point, and joined,  
And still the higher rise'n, the more refined;  
They loved, and so in Heaven to love are seen  
Bright Seraphs, nor could Differe'nce be assigned,  
But that the Body here did crowd between,  
There by pure Spi'rits was dressed out the mighty Scene.   

XII.  
The new formed Body here did crowd between,  
But all to love was so disposed, and made,  
In either Sex, and with so Beauteous mien,  
That either seemed with other well apayed,  
And Love himself the Hymenaeal said:  
(For Love 's an He, who proud of what was done,  
And of Man most, as fairest there Portrayed,  
The form assumed, which likest was to ' his own,  
And will but as a Male, when sung in Verse be known.)   

XIII.  
Love said it, and Heaven all he said approved,  
By signs authentic, which none durst deny;  
The new Creation in soft measures moved,  
And the whole World of beings, waiting by,  
Bowed all down, and blest the Augury,  
They bowed, and blest it, as they waiting stood,  
They bowed, and blest it each, though near so high,  
From the Angeli● Natures, to the Brood  
Of Earthborn Vegetables, and God saw 'twas Good.   

XIV.  
'Twas good He saw for Man to have his Make,  
Man saw no less 'twas good for him to love,  
And in his Arms the Virgin Bride did take,  
With all the endearments that affection move,  
Nor Hell that looked askance could th' Rites reprove.  
In ' his Arms he took her, as Superior,  
She, as one yet, who would be Conquered, strove,  
Till safe arriving at the Genial Bower,  
And conquered both, Love each saluted Conqueror.   

XV.  
There gentle purpose did they interchange,  
And all the innocent delights, that make  
Blest Wedlock happy, nor did think it strange,  
Connubial pleasures to or leave, or take;  
For, nor him Inn'ocence did, nor her forsake,  
And they who think it did, or that the place,  
Or state forbade such use i'th' sordice rake  
Of their own lusty-head, foully miss the case,  
And on God's noblest Masterpiece retort disgrace.   

XVI.  
Think so, who will for me, and bear the shame  
Of such sad thought; those just ones thought not so  
Nor God, nor Love, who kindled first the flame  
Wherewith they in desire alike did glow,  
Desire unhappy never till 't would know  
Secrets of knowledge unpermitted it,  
Unhappy knowledge, source of all our Woe,  
Unhappy Tree, i'th' midst oath, Garden set,  
Unhappy seen, but tasted, more unhappy yet!   

XVII.  
Forbidden therefore 'twas, but that alone,  
What else beside Man could, or wish, or crave,  
Enclosure, Limit and Restraint had none,  
Nor other Law than what Right Reason gave;  
Right Reason, unforced yet to be a Slave,  
To ' its under Ministers, a Lawless suit  
Of stubborn Lusts, when they the Mastery have,  
Less of the Man partaking than the Brute,  
And are the dire effects of the forbidden Fruit.   

XVIII.  
Too dire Effects, if God had seen it fit,  
Which Nature's Course disturbed and altered so,  
That all the Bands, which held it were unknit,  
And quite reversed the Pyramid did show,  
Above a Front unshapely, he point below:  
Thus while 'twas turning, but once set upon  
It's no Foundation, for so grim a Brow,  
Or which was but a point, as good as none,  
Down fell the Heap, Hell trembled, and the Earth did groan.   

XIX.  
Love was that Pyramid, which whilst it stood,  
As fixed by Heaven, on its own proper Base,  
(Matter, in Mankind, cemented by Blood  
Spiritous, where Sense had lowest place,  
Reason supreme) whole Nature did embrace;  
Which o'er her Works such Robes of Beauty threw,  
And with such Rays did th' Universe enchase,  
That Instinct some, the rest Inclination drew,  
Only to Love, and what was loved, by Love pursue.   

XX.  
Love, and Fruition of their Kind, was the whole,  
Whither to ' arrive, most Creatures did aspire,  
(By Sense led,) and arrived; but Man, whose Soul  
Had particles of an Aethereal Fire,  
Aimed at Fruition too, but of what high'er,  
And more sublime, was laid up, than his Kind,  
Or that part of ' it his Flesh, whence to retire,  
In Innocence he found himself inclined,  
The beauties of his own, and of th' Eternal Mind.   

XXI.  
His Kind he loved, as all things did beside,  
All things beside his Kind he also loved  
In their due Rank, but how to be applied  
To use, th' Hypothesis was to be proved,  
And thousand Stones to move, and be removed,  
ere Love he to so just an height could raise,  
As in his Intellect it was approved,  
That he from Earth to Heaven by steps of Praise,  
Might hourly mount, and boldly tread God's secrer Ways.   

XXII.  
Deep in himself was the Foundation laid,  
And in those Acts, wherein he did partake  
With meaner Being's, for his Empire made,  
And of which some for Propagation make,  
By their first Institution, called Love by mistake,  
Whose name they have engrossed; but Love,  
Or cause, or sign of Love no more are, take  
But the Disguise off, as bare Acts they prove,  
Nor higher look, than 'tis Love naturally to move.   

XXIII.  
These therefore were laid deep, and of the Pile,  
If aught, Substruction, consecrate to Night,  
The sense of Touch, too subject to beguile,  
Where Reason does not hold the Balance right;  
Reason, wherein true Love, and pure Delight  
Only consists, and is the Fabrics Scale,  
Uninterruptedly to ' ascend heavens height,  
To him, who has the skill Heaven thus to assail,  
And o'er th' Omnipotent by almighty Love prevail.   

XXIV.  
The first Man had that Skill, and of his Love,  
BEAUTY and GOOD the Object, he it sought  
In that bright Sphere, where it on High does move,  
And thither by Reduction all things brought,  
Which, in their Season, beautiful are wrought;  
All that in others, or himself he spied,  
Which of the Heavenly Goodness Trace had aught;  
And by this Chain did an Ascent provide,  
To th' Footstool of that Throne, where its first Link was tied.   

XXV.  
By view hereof He upward did ascend,  
Still upward, as he cast his curious view,  
The Higher any thing did upward tend,  
The better 'twas, and much more Beauteous grew,  
And with it from the Earth, Love upward drew:  
From th' Earth, of which once having lost the sight,  
Love more refined became, by Objects new,  
And all presented by a clearer Light,  
That did exhaust the Flesh, and ravished the Spirit.   

XXVI.  
For having passed at length the Atmosphere,  
By many a Stage, the Flesh was left behind;  
And now another Face of things appear,  
And other Beauties, that surprise the Mind,  
On which to gaze he did strange Pleasure find:  
And though their Light excessive he scarce bear,  
Seeing above his Journey unconfined,  
Upward he presses still, and void of Fear,  
As perfect grown, above the Skies his Head does rear.   

XXVII.  
Above the Skies he to those heavens does mount,  
Step after step ascending, where there be  
For happy Souls, as sacred Writ does count,  
Mansions prepared, for their sublimity,  
The third Heaven called, and ' its Furniture does see:  
With which he could delighted ever stay,  
But that advanced to the last Degree,  
That mortal Foot e'er touched, a farther way,  
By Wing to be dispatched he ' espies, Loves last Essay.   

XXVIII.  
So on he claps his best, and largest Wings,  
And swift as thought, but more direct upright  
Than Eagle soars, into a Welkin springs,  
(If so it may be called) of Flame more bright,  
And pure, than what by this World's Sun, and Light,  
Can be compared; and in blessed Ecstasy,  
With sacred Wonder, but without affright,  
Those fair Ideas contemplates, whereby  
Himself, and th' World was made, and there laid up do lie.   

XXIX.  
Ascended hither, Love the place well knew,  
As whence himself into our World came down,  
even Man as nearer to his God he drew,  
New motions felt, and Powers before unknown;  
And swallowed up in Speculation,  
Forgot what ever he admired below,  
Himself, and Her, whom he had left alone,  
To wait ' his return, and rapt, he scarce knew how,  
To th' Land of Love, himself a Love transformed did grow.   

XXX.  
For why that Tract the Realm of Love was styled,  
And all, who thither in deducted mind,  
Leaving this lower Earth arrive, are filled,  
As the bright Region is, with thoughts refined,  
And Quintessence of Love; but of what kind,  
Impossible it is to be expressed,  
And in a Chime of soundful Words designed,  
Which but Conceits are, to our Fashion dressed,  
And if Immortal, with the mortal Load oppressed.   

XXXI.  
Suffice it, Angels there Inhabited,  
Ranged all in their Trinal Triplicities,  
Into a Body, under Love their Head,  
And ready all for some Renowned Emprise,  
Soon as the mighty Signal given is:  
He saw it given, and all before a Throne,  
Of Heavenly Diamond, vailing each his Eyes,  
Each Angel prostrate on his Face falls down,  
And at its Footstool casts his Consecrated Crown.   

XXXII.  
From simple ANGELS, as th' Inferior Band,  
To the ARCHANGELS, led by Michael,  
Then to DOMINIONS, that the third Rank stand,  
To VIRTUES then, whose numerous Banners swell,  
And PRINCIPALITIES, of whom none fell  
With Rebel Lucifer, ' or abbetted him,  
To POURS then, and to THRONES, whom who can tell?  
And so up to th' eighth Order, CHERUBIN,  
But by the ninth complete, Love-flaming SERAPHIM.   

XXXIII.  
All these our Father saw, by Love retired  
In, and above Himself, but o'er them all,  
One fairer yet, to whom his Mind aspired,  
Th' Incomprehensible Original,  
In whom no Blemish, and no Spot can fall:  
By Love he saw Him, and in Him the end,  
And utmost point of Love, enough to ' appall  
The Holie'st of his Sons, who should descend  
From ' his after sinful Loins, and thither after tend.   

XXXIV.  
But him the sight appalled not, rather filled  
With Images more fair his enlarged Breast;  
And from the Principles his Love instilled,  
On naught less high could he affix his rest,  
Or be content though of the Earth possessed:  
The whole Earth, that in this Res'very viewed round,  
Too scanty seemed an heaven-born Soul to ' invest,  
Too scant a Limit, and too scant a Bound,  
For what an Infinite was only equal found.   

XXXV.  
Excursions therefore into that he made,  
Often Excursions into Infinite,  
Infinite Love, and Beauties seen displayed  
I'th' Prototype, by Intellectual Light,  
And Reasons yet undimed discursive sight:  
Tho when that failed, or when 'twas weary grown,  
Through ' excess of conceived Vision, as it might,  
The Almighty's self would come in Person down,  
And oft prevent Man's journey to Him, with His own.   

XXXVI.  
Or come, or send Him frequent Embassies  
Of Angels, who still ready on the Wing,  
With hasty flight, from summit of the Skies,  
Would seem to vie, who should the Message bring,  
And first approach the Favourite of their King:  
Tho all the Message, which they bore was Love,  
And all their Service was but Ministering  
To one below them made, yet who above,  
Was heavens great Care, and greatest Ornament should prove.   

XXXVII.  
Not much below them, while his Innocence,  
On its Foundation did unshockt abide,  
And perfect Love, seen in obedience,  
The nether World so fast to th' upper tied,  
That Hell between them could not once divide:  
One Heart, one Business was in both approved,  
One God alike, in both was magnified,  
That mighty Axis, round which both were moved,  
And whom alike both praised, and whom alike both loved.   

XXXVIII.  
Alike they loved, and as they loved alike,  
All Virtues in that Act did comprehend,  
Which did in both an awful Reverence strike,  
And careful made them, lest they should offend,  
But chiefly Man did thence his Mark intent,  
With greater vigour, as on whom was laid  
Fear for a Rein, if Hell its Wiles should send;  
For Death was threatened, if he disobeyed,  
And He not to be ' highminded, chose to be afraid.   

XXXIX.  
Love made him choose so kind, and wholesome Fear,  
From which all Torment yet secluded was,  
And but the brighter made his Love appear,  
Like Beams reflected upon burnished ●rass,  
That their own Native Lustre thence surpass:  
So shone his Love, and thence his Temperance,  
That the forfended Limit would not pass,  
Nor to behold it cared with wanton Glance,  
What ever fond Conceit its Glories might enhance.   

XL.  
Hence Justice, hence true Magnanimity,  
Prudence, and Wisdom, o'er his Soul did flow,  
And sacred Truth, and peaceful Loyalty,  
And all the Graces, that to Love do owe  
Their Rise, and into ' Eternal Rivers grow:  
And all upon the Supreme Beauty placed,  
That Good, which still the more we come to know,  
The more we ' admire, till in its Arms embraced,  
An end of all our Love we find, the First, and Last.   

XLI.  
Such was his Love, and like it was his Praise,  
A Service, wherein with him Nature joined,  
Whole Nature, and each part, by several ways,  
As with him in one love they were combined;  
And various was the Anthems stops, and kind,  
Articulate by Man, their High Priest, made,  
And in one sacred Hallelu-jah twined,  
Which he, as First-Fruits, on Earth's Altar laid,  
And Heaven with grateful Odours early did invade.   

XLII.  
Their Orisons, which he each Morning paid,  
With his fair Partner, or by Angels taught,  
Or whereof capable their Form was made,  
By Images from Heaven first thither brought,  
And which they into perfect Figure wrought,  
By Plastic Art of Words harmonious;  
Which to the great Occasion came unsought:  
And whether sung in Verse, or said in Prose,  
In Prose most powerful were, in Verse most numerous.   

XLIII.  
For Verse, and all that does to Verse belong  
(In this lowe'r World) had its first happy rise  
In Innocence, which first invented Song,  
And how so e'er one may its Charms despise,  
Or which is worse, abuse, in Paradise,  
By Pause, and Fugue's, adapted to fit strains,  
Was first performed; to whose Discoveries  
The Sons of Verse now elocate their pains,  
And (save from Heaven) expect not their Immortal gains   

XLIV.  
In Paradise, discovered first was Verse,  
And Voice, and Number with it given to Song,  
And glorious Subjects, which both did rehearse,  
Alternate, and in Chorus, as or long,  
Or short returns did to the Ground belong;  
But than of Love they sounded nothing more,  
Or ofter, or with Breast more large, and strong,  
The Love Divine, whom thus they did implore  
In raptur'ous Odes, and (as they of it sang) adore.   

XLV.  
They sang how All things their beginning had,  
From Love's diffusive, and Lifegiving heat;  
How Immaterial Spirits, with Glory clad,  
It's Firstborn were, with Love as high, and great,  
As from this lower World's removed their Seat:  
Then how this lower World from Nothing rose,  
And Nowhere, in that beauteous order met,  
That Place, and Matter, which the whole compose,  
And circumscribe, unconceived Luster did disclose.   

XLVI.  
Not at an instant made, but by degrees,  
As confused Chaos could th' impression take,  
In Six Days space, and throughly purge its Lees,  
Hell newly formed more horrible to make,  
And its own new made Enmities off-shake,  
For of such jarring Parts it was contrived,  
And of such contrarieties did partake,  
That it by Discord, and Confusion lived,  
(A life such as it was) with Death to be survived.   

XLVII.  
So strove they, thus would they have striven ever;  
Till pitying their debate, the Spirit of Love  
Calmed the discordant Mole, and did dissever  
Th' Eternal Combatants, placed some above,  
Others did to the deep Abyss remove  
Fast to be held, in Adamantine Chain;  
Whilst those few Parts, that did more ductile prove,  
Into Four Principles, which all contain,  
Themselves in all contained, were solely left to reign.   

XLVIII.  
FIRE, which as lightest took the highest place,  
And upward raised its towering Head; then AIR,  
That followed it, but with unequal pace,  
And though it vied to be and look as fair,  
Forced in the midst to hang, self-ballanced there:  
Next WATER, which the Surface covered o'er,  
That pregnant Mother of the EARTH, less rare,  
In its vast Womb conceived, but which, before  
It could emerge, lacked mighty Love to force the Door.   

XLIX.  
And so it did, but LIGHT was first to shine,  
And an whole Day, for that which makes the Day,  
But little enough was thought i'th' Mind Divine,  
Through Darkness palpable to clear its way,  
And all its various Beauties to display:  
Darkness, which though but counted Privative,  
Such claims to th' heap, whence 'twas called out, did lay,  
That Love like equal shares to both did give,  
Alternately, each Day, in Day, and Night to live.   

L.  
But harder were the teeming Waters Throes,  
When on the second Day, Earth nearer came  
To its great Birth, like weight, that heavier grows,  
Long born, and to break through disjoints the frame;  
The Water's pangs compared thus, were the same,  
When they divided burst, but ne'er to close,  
Stopped by the solid FIRMAMENT, whose Name  
immovable Partition does suppose,  
By ' whose Shoar disjoined, upper and nether Ocean flows.   

LI.  
And now the third Day of her Monstrous Child  
Half way delivered the Great Mother was;  
Monstrous, unsightly yet, with Horror filled,  
Which in its Oasy Arms it did embrace,  
And, half suppressed, to the Birth would ne'er let pass,  
But, with it joined, one Monstrous Body made,  
Above DRY GROUND, below a confused Mass,  
Part Earth, with Briny Hatchments overlaid,  
Part unmixed Water, upon empty Nothing stayed,   

LII.  
And called SEA; as what appeared was LAND;  
Rough, bare, mishapeed, though dry, unbeautified,  
Itself unbeautiful, vast plains of Sand,  
More horribly deformed, with terrors Pride,  
Mountains, that to ' Heaven aspired, and gaping wide,  
With raised up Jaws, threatened to swallow down,  
In gorge unsatiate, glories there envied,  
And wrinkled Forehead, which scarce made did frown,  
And Omens give of Future War, from cause unknown.   

LIII.  
Nor could there cause be gi'ven, for a new Face  
From the Love Divine it took, and Nakedness  
Was clothed upon with all the Charming Grace  
Of Fruit, and Flower; and the grim Gyantess,  
(Its own Eternal Goodness to express)  
Kind Heaven illumined with a double Light,  
The fourth Day made, the greater, and the less;  
By Day the SUN with vital heat, and bright,  
To warm, the MOON with starry Robe to ' invest at night.   

LIV.  
Nor was this all, but at the fifth Days dawn,  
Earth, and her Mother Sea replenished  
With new Inhab'itants were, and every lawn,  
And every Hill (scared Solitude thence fled)  
Legions of FOWL produced, and kindly bred,  
Which on large Wings, above the Ground did fly,  
But perching on some Tree, made that their Bed;  
Whilst Lakes, and Streams, and the huge Sea fast by,  
With mighty WHALES were filled, and with the lesser FRY.   

LV.  
Filled were the Floods with these, but still the Earth,  
(As whose Wing'd-People most partook of th' Air,  
Their haunt) impregnate with a second Birth,  
For which disclosed 't had room enough to spare,  
Did on the sixth Day to disclose prepare;  
And out all BEASTS, and REPTILES, in their kind,  
Sprang from the fertile Womb, proportioned fair,  
Each to its Nature, but with Look declined,  
To th' Earth whence ta'en, to th' Earth whereto confined.   

LVI.  
Of these, and other Works of God they sang,  
In Lays harmonious, as Love utterance gave;  
Yet these, and others, which they loudly rang,  
Were but as Praeludes, which, with mastery brave,  
Their Voice showed, and what compass Verse might have:  
Verse which then triumphed in Recitative,  
When they all other Grounds resolved to wave,  
Sang of themselves, and Him, who at once did give  
One power to Sing thus to Him, and like Him to live.   

LVII.  
A wondrous Work it was, from Nothing thus  
All things in weight, and measure up to raise,  
And perfect Order formed most beauteous,  
Subordinate, as different were the Ways,  
Whereby their Maker would direct his Praise:  
But none so Wondrous did, and strange appear,  
Of Power and Beauty with so rich displays,  
As Man's Formation, made the Rule to bear,  
And sublimed Earth equal to highest Heaven rear.   

LVIII.  
That Dust could Live, in what was done before  
Was plainly told, but that it too could love,  
As Love all life in it contains, and more,  
All that or Reason knows, or can improve,  
Th' Eternal Treasures only were enough  
To drain, and to be drained: For God but spoke,  
And all below, and all the Hosts above,  
Being, and Life from the great Word did take;  
But Hands Divine, Man's model were employed to make.   

LIX.  
By Hands Divine, his Body first was wrought,  
The full Abridgement of this World to be;  
With curious Art, to ' its last perfection brought,  
But infinitely base, in its degree,  
To th' Soul the Portrait of the Deity,  
Into his Nostrils breathed; that in his Brain  
Might be infixed the Heavenly Ima'gry,  
And Life, with Vital Blood in every Vein,  
To th' Parts extreme conveyed, the Character retain.   

LX.  
Love was that Character, in Holiness,  
And perfect Purity exemplified,  
And Innocence, which that first state did bless,  
And Reason with them Empire to divide,  
And o'er th' Inferior Appetite preside,  
Which it restrained, and furnished with true Skill,  
Itself, in all its Acts to curb, and guide;  
At least had power to do so, and fulfil  
The Charge Divine, close backed by Freedom of the Will.   

LXI.  
Blessed Qualities, which made him Lord and King,  
Of all this lower World, and Majesty  
On his Erected Countenance stamped, did bring  
Heaven down to Earth, and Earth, that flat did lie,  
Advanceed to be for Angel's Company;  
Nay farther, and what Angels did admire,  
For its Aetern Exemplar, the Most High,  
Who with his Work delighted, would retire  
Frequent from Heaven, as to divert, and view it nighe'r.   

LXII.  
Himself hereby Man dexterously did guide,  
And o'er himself so absolutely reign,  
(The greatest Kingdom in the World beside,  
And which all other Kingdoms did contain,  
In ' it self in Chief, or Vassalages Chain)  
That only Peace, and only what was Good,  
And only Love was given for Love again;  
With Charms, that by no force could be withstood,  
And centred in one Point Indivisible GOD.   

LXIII.  
Hail happy state of Innocence, thrice Hail!  
Hail to Thy Love and Thee! And may my Verse,  
From thence inspired, with generous Souls prevail,  
As they deserve, Thy Wonders to rehearse,  
And through the World thy Sacred Name disperse!  
No Theme, like that, so high can Numbers raise,  
Or render more Humane Mankind's converse;  
For if there any Virtue be, or Praise,  
They in Perfection shone, in those first happy Days.   

LXIV.  
Ah! that those Happy Days should be so few,  
Ended, cut off, e'er scarce they were begun!  
Whose early Happiness, when known to Two,  
A Third crept in, by whom all was undone,  
And Love unthroned hard drive'n away to run.  
Follow him, Muse, for if he should go wrong,  
Thou art in danger too, whose Fates are one  
With his; Nor canst Thou be without him long,  
But do it, if thou'hast Courage, in another Song.    

THE LEGEND of LOVE.  
CANTO. II.  

I.  
I OFT am thinking whether Love was known  
To the World Heathen, and what was their sense  
Of Man's, and His Origination;  
Or if of this first state of Innocence  
They any certain knowledge had, and whence  
The Notice was derived, and to them came,  
Dark as it was; and turn o'er Books, but thence  
Am little satisfied, find there the Name,  
'Tis true, but Pillars of black Smoke instead of Flame.   

II.  
Fiction I there find has so Truth disguised,  
That hard it is for one to know what's true;  
And, amongst all the Vanities they prized,  
How much, or little 'twas they truly knew,  
And ancient Faith obscured with Fancies new;  
Which diversely, as diffe'rent was their Art,  
They dressed out, and amongst the People threw,  
Part plain, with lame or monstrous Figures part,  
As in a scarce, or not discovered Countries Chart.   

III.  
For there as We ' Hippogryphs, and Satyrs place,  
Or Seas, or Carra'vans, when there's nothing found  
Of certainty, to fill the empty space,  
That each Man in his own sense may abound:  
Just so did they, but more the Truth confound,  
With Fable, as themselves it suited best,  
Who, so they did but keep the marked out bound,  
Conveyed them by Tradition, for the rest,  
Left it to others, as 'twas left them to be guest.   

IV.  
A Godlike therefore 'twas, and Golden Age,  
Tho little known to them, who called it so,  
And of it counted, filled with ancient rage,  
Not as it was, but did at distance show;  
Tho something, 'tis confessed, they seemed to know;  
And what they of it said, by chance was true,  
As to the main, if somewhat we allow,  
For the false Light, and those, who ' its Figure drew,  
In Plane, or Prospective, and were but Copiers too.   

V.  
By Negatives the Plane was most designed,  
And proved the Fairest, and the luckiest Draught;  
The Prospective was stiff, and more inclined  
To an hard confused roughness, scarcely brought  
To decence, done by Images they sought  
In their own Breasts, or Age, by Heavenly Light  
Unlumined, and by false Priests blindly taught:  
Love only made o'er all to take his Flight,  
Came nearest to the Truth, if understood aright.   

VI  
For by a Child they Love did represent,  
As his best Emblem, under which disguise,  
(For such it was) they hid with high intent,  
Or rather plainly showed those Mysteries,  
Which were concealed from base and vulgar Eyes;  
Native Simplicity, pure Innocence,  
Absolute freedom from all touch of Vice,  
An easy mildness Favours to dispense,  
And all those Graces, that its Actions influence.   

VII.  
Not that they would that Ages Faults approve,  
In Lovers, but its Virtues thence propound;  
For though a Child they made, and painted Love,  
Scarce such another Child i'th' World was found,  
By whose soft Hands were fiercest Lions bound,  
Trained to his Yoke; the Course of Thunder stayed;  
And all the Gods above, and underground,  
Which Gentilisms great Religion made,  
(As sottish as it was) in heavy Fetters laid.   

VIII.  
Naked, 'tis true, they feigned him; but just so,  
As we, who yet esteem ourselves more Wise,  
In Oratories naked Angels show,  
Nor count it blame ourselves thus to advise,  
How open all we do, or think to Heaven lies;  
That from it nought we can, or would conceal,  
That from us banished is all Artifice;  
All which by ' his Nakedness Love does reveal,  
And, from his Stepdames Temples, to the Church appeal;   

IX.  
But by his Fillet they such Lessons taught,  
As the World's present Learning far outgoes;  
Nor did the Master, who designed the Draught,  
And for a Dia'dem put it on Love's brows,  
ere think it would his Sacred Head expose;  
Tho be ' it a Fillet, what can it intend?  
What teach, but that, which every Lover knows,  
Eve'ry true Lover, that to choose a Friend,  
Barely by sight, 's beginning where scarce Fools would end.   

X.  
His Eyes were therefore hid (if hid they were)  
From all commerce in Love to ' exclude the Eyes;  
Which judging, as the Object does appear,  
Too oft impose, imposed by Flatteries,  
False mirrors of an Heart, which deeper lies:  
The Heart, where Love that's true does first begin,  
By Reason guided, it's own worth to ' apprise;  
Then by Discretion, seld in Lovers seen,  
Who still the more's the outward glare, see lest within.   

XI.  
Eyes Intellectual he ' had, wherewith agree  
Those Wings, which they no less unto him gave;  
I'll Furniture for Love, if Blind he be,  
Who rather than would want a Guide to have,  
Himself from dangers unforeseen to save:  
But love himself alone was his own Guide,  
Nor needed any others Conduct crave,  
And with his Wings spread, and extended wide,  
A flight to Heaven attempted, none durst dare beside.   

XII.  
For why no Love it is, whose vile desires,  
Incline it downwards to the Miry Ground;  
This Earth of ours, which Sottices inspires,  
Preying on Carnage there, or made, or found,  
And with ignoble thoughts does most abound:  
But that's true Love, and does deserve the Name,  
Whose noble Acquists, nothing mean can bond;  
And mindful of the Region, whence it came,  
Thither aspiring terminates with Heaven its Fame.   

XIII.  
Like Wings, like Quiver: With bright Arrows filled,  
Of different sorts, but with like Mystery,  
As is well known to them, who in Love are skilled,  
Well taught, what Motions in the Mind there be,  
And how both Love, and Hatred there agree;  
Hatred of all that bears the impress of ill,  
With love of all that's good, in its degree;  
The Choques and just fixed bias of the Will,  
Which make up Love, and all its various parts fulfil.   

XIV.  
The Golden piled its Inclination proved,  
Leaden Aversion, ne'er to be denied;  
Or if thereof there should be Question moved,  
The Torch Love bore, his other Arms beside,  
Too bright did shine the Mystic Truth to hide,  
That Soul of th' World, that all things keeps entire,  
In Life, and Motion, nobly Typified;  
Noblest of Elements, but yet raised hi'gher  
Than placeed at first, when made Loves noblest Symbol, Fire.   

XV.  
Thus by the Ancients Love was first expressed,  
And, though a Child, their God most ancient owned;  
Older than Saturn, whom Jove dispossessed  
Of Right usurped, and in his stead was Crowned:  
Son of Urania, (as in Books is found)  
Venus Urania, whom we Heaven call  
With them, who their Mythology expound,  
Distinct from that Pandeme, who was Thrall  
To Vulgar Souls, and had from th' Earth Original.   

XVI.  
Two unlike Mothers of two Sons unlike,  
Eros and Anteros, whose opposed Name,  
(Which different Sentiments in them did strike)  
From their own first great Opposition came,  
That from their Nature; and tho judged the same,  
In one, and t'other Sex, where they preside,  
The Male, and Female Hymeneal Flame,  
Are two so, that once kindled they divide,  
Just like those Fatal brethren's, who Dead, each defied.   

XVII.  
Eros was Elder, and the stronger too;  
Of Constitution likely to endure  
Eternal Ages, if the Spi'rit he drew,  
Were not empoisoned by an Air impure;  
Of which consulting how to be secure,  
'Twas plainly told him from th' Oraculous Throne,  
Than that of Themis far more Old, and sure,  
A Tripod, which ne'er failed, When two are One,  
Then Love in danger is by Love to be undone.   

XVIII.  
Of two made one, Love well enough conceived,  
For that himself had seen, himself had done;  
But it by Love could hardly be believed,  
That he to ' himself so contrary should run,  
As to provoke, what most he sought to shun:  
Against himself that he should so prevail,  
As thence in hazard be, to be undone;  
This e'en to Love, obscured in Mortal Veil,  
Abstruse did seem, and by another said might fail.   

XIX.  
But Time, a little time the Mystery cleared,  
When by another Love, this Anteros,  
He was betrayed; who that which first appeared,  
(And 't was the Sun) when from the Earth he rose,  
Adored as his chief God, with sacred Vows;  
And many Altars to it after made,  
By ' his Votaries, on whom he did impose  
The Task Idolatrous, and First-fruits paid,  
Himself the first Idolater, there profanely laid.   

XX.  
From Earth first rose this feigned, and Idol Love,  
By DIS begot; though not till after known  
Who was his Sire, or what himself would prove;  
Of a cursed Father the as cursed Son,  
Born Armed for others Ruin, and his own;  
With all the Ensigns Love was wont to bear,  
By th' Heathen read, that if together shown,  
All but themselves to ' impose on they'd go near,  
And here's the true Love one would say, & one he's there.   

XXI.  
Like Youth in both, like Face, and Looks were seen  
Like naked Limbs, with covered Impudence  
In this, but gesture tending to obscene,  
In a free gaiety ' hide, to ' elude the Sense;  
Like Chaplet, for their Brows, and Eyes defence;  
Like Wings, like Quiver hung their Backs adown;  
Like different Arrows to be drawn out thence;  
Like burning Torch, which Flames so like did crown,  
Either would seem the true, if single, and alone.   

XXII.  
Ah! that they had like Grace those Arms to use!  
But this was loudly by the False decried,  
Who only took them, that he might abuse,  
The World, by whom he should be Deified,  
And acts inglorious in that Visor hide:  
Never to use them was his full intent,  
Or if he did, not as before well tried;  
But to a Love, and Learning different,  
Where Sense alone should be supreme in Government.   

XXIII.  
Love saw all this (for what to Love is hid?)  
The true Love saw it, and withdrew in haste;  
No place was left him on the Earth to ' abide,  
Wherefore he to the Empyrean past,  
And only Conscience his Vicegerent placed:  
With Promise yet, that if in time to come,  
Man wiser grew (the Counterfeit uncased)  
Himself his now left Charge would reassume,  
And once again to Man return, as his last Home.   

XXIV.  
For Man, 'tis known, scarce the wild Phanto'sm saw,  
This Pageant Counterfeit of Love Divine,  
But his Allegiance back he strait did draw,  
And to the Enemy's part from Love decline,  
By Sense led, which had quickly sunk a Mine,  
Reason, or to surprise, or to o'erthrow;  
And the vain Stratagem had dressed so fine,  
With umbrage, that it Good, and Ill should know,  
The Fort surrendered was, scarce known for what, or how.   

XXV.  
But up 'twas given, and therewith given was all,  
(For Nothing, or what's worse than nothing, lies)  
What ever Man his own, by right might call,  
Or by Commission, but sure ne'er did prize  
Deservedly, since he ' it could so soon despise;  
His Life, his Soul, what most was of behoof,  
To ' a Being so disposed, and framed, as His;  
Of his Obedience the first easy proof,  
And what, as Heaven itself was valuable, his Love.   

XXVI.  
All were give'n up, and now adieu, blessed Love!  
Adieu all Happiness, and Innocence!  
Honour, and Virtue, which the same Course move,  
And Mortals very rarely visit since!  
Adieu unto you all, for Love's gone hence,  
And only left your empty Names behind,  
Upon the Stage to please, or give offence,  
As variously Spectators are inclined,  
But wherewith most are pleased, as most against Love combined.   

XXVII.  
Honour and Love adieu! And now my Song,  
Since thou hast traceed them to their first abode,  
Rest they a while; and tell, as does belong  
To the Mock-Love, the World's, and ●coples God  
But make of every Rhyme an Iron Rod,  
Wherewith thou mayst the Profligate chastise!  
And though thou goest a way, as yet untrod,  
Despair not but thy Work shall beauteous rise,  
And with the Sober find acceptance, and the Wise!   

XXVIII.  
With these acceptance, but with others scorn,  
Who to this Anti-Love blind Vassals made,  
By our First-fathers' Act, have Fealty sworn  
To a fell Tyrant, who must be obeyed,  
And will, nor in his furious heats gainsaid:  
Unhappy Men, if their unhappiness  
They could but know, and how they are betrayed;  
Enough unhappy, would they but confess  
The little that they know, which words can scarce express!   

XXIX.  
Slaves of Vile Passions, which drive furiously,  
And all that's Sacred, with high Hand bear down;  
Themselves, their Ancestors, the Deity,  
Reason, and Reasons Guide, Religion,  
The World's consent attested by their own;  
Till to the Winds, and Seas their Faith they gave,  
And sought, what else they could not flee, to drown  
In bottomless Abyss, nor Shipwrackt have  
The least security, they shall their Fraightage save.   

XXX.  
And yet who more secure? But this their Love,  
Their New Love, in whose Service they be retained,  
Gives as his own, and their most urging Proof,  
That they, true Conquerors, have the Victory gained,  
And broke those Iro'ns', wherewith all else are chained:  
Ill Education, brutal Thunders dread,  
A fear of what's above, to which they ' are trained,  
And what's to come, dreams of the long since dead,  
That first made Gods, and what their Fears made, worshipped.   

XXXI.  
Horrors th' Anti-diluvian World ne'er knew,  
Or if it did, durst not bare-faceed profess;  
Tho from one Seed their Love, and Atheism grew,  
Both Ills, but which the greater, which the less,  
Is hard to say, almost as hard to guess:  
For either both, in both was either had,  
In both, and either lost Man's Righteousness;  
I'th' cause, or in th' effect, both equal bad,  
And both, that sensually, and this profanely mad.   

XXXII.  
But for Profaneness, Sense was th' Harbinger,  
And busily by Love prepared its way;  
(For so I●ll call awhile the World's Troubler)  
Who all its Stages did beforehand lay,  
And longer here, and longer there would stay:  
Till having th' whole Earth compassed, and laid waste,  
A Deluge came, and swept their Spoils away,  
The Spoilers 'scaping with the few, who passed,  
By Ship to a new world, where I'm their Standard placed.   

XXXIII.  
I'm pitched it there; Cursed Cham who for the shame  
Done to his Father, just Reproach did bear,  
In that Addition to his cursed Name,  
Servant of Servants, which his Race still wear:  
But never did he Slave so much appear,  
Of Slaves the verie'st Drudge, as when he Love  
Permitted uncontrolled to domineer,  
And lustful War against Heaven, and God to move,  
And all below seduce, and defy all above.   

XXXIV.  
With him Love went (while yet the World was one,  
One People, and one Language) unperceived,  
And so great Victories by his Conduct won,  
That He was openly at last received,  
The first, that no more Worlds there were, who grieved:  
And yet more Worlds he for his Triumphs found,  
Or what's as good, new Coasts to be deceived;  
When the divided Earth was Peopled round,  
With distinct Nations sown, which stocked the new-broke Ground.   

XXXV.  
Each Nation was a several World, or as  
A World distinct; the Islands most of all,  
Which, late discovered, for new Worlds did pass  
With those, who by that Name did Countries call,  
Surrounded by the wide Seas rolling Wall:  
And Love in every Land, and every Isle,  
Did reign with Majesty Imperial,  
And sway unbounded by the farthest Thyle,  
Tho that, as the World's farthest bound, did stand erewhile.   

XXXVI.  
A mighty Prince, and curious Traveller,  
Of sense most exquisite, from each to take,  
Each Country, lay it farther off, or near,  
What for the gust of Loving most could make,  
And the o're-laboured Appetite awake,  
Satiate with loose disport, and rocked asleep,  
Of not yet tasted Pleasures to partake;  
Which in his dark Serraig'ls he close did keep,  
And laid, till time should serve, as the Earth's Centre deep.   

XXXVII.  
At length it served; Ah! that it served not now!  
And Love by his Conquests had such Subjects gained,  
(For to his Yoke the Universe did bow,  
And Arts, and Arms were to the Service trained)  
That out of fear to lose what he ' had obtained,  
He only Trophies gave himself to rear,  
And the Disguise put off he had sustained;  
As the Supreme God would Himself appear,  
And above all, that's else called God, his Head did bear.   

XXXVIII.  
Above the Sun, whom Himself worshipped,  
But whom disgraded he to th' Persian scent,  
Next to himself to be propitiated,  
In their Horned Mithra, which to Idols bend,  
With thousand others, of obscure descent,  
By this time Gentilism Gods had made,  
New Deities industr'ious to invent;  
Whom or in Hills, or thick Groves hallowed shade,  
With Beasts, or Humane Blood they atoned, and to them prayed.   

XXXIX.  
Their Sons, or Daughter's Blood for these sufficed,  
But what to him they offered was their own;  
Freedom, above their Life, to be apprized,  
Which how they could disvalue well was shown  
By this, if only this had been alone,  
That when th' Usurper did their Homage claim,  
And in ' his true Colours made himself be known,  
In throngs they to his Feet, and Altars came,  
And kept, with Fires from their own Breasts, perpetual Flame.   

XL.  
Fires, which consumed, e'er felt, the noblest Part,  
And all that's good in Man, or great, laid waste,  
By th' Eyes conveyed most treacherously to th' Heart,  
Whence to the Liver soon the Burning past,  
And Virtue's Images in both defaced;  
Thence to the Bones, nor did the Flesh escape long;  
Till Soul and Body in a Flame at last,  
The present God, to be denied too strong,  
Plunged all into a Sea of Sulphur'ous Flame headlong.   

XLI.  
Like God, like Victim; To a God unclean,  
Of Beasts th' Uncleanest offered, Man turned Beast;  
Himself the Sacrifice, and Priest obscene,  
In which to minister he did divest,  
All that above the Brute he once possessed,  
And lower than the Brute unforceed sank down;  
With such Unmanly ' Indignities oppressed,  
He ' had scorned them, as he might, by ' another done,  
Her rude disgusts, whom he solicited, and his own.   

XLII.  
For why a SHE 's the Quarry, and the Game,  
At which this Mock-Love, and his Haggards fly;  
The Sex in either Sex, both worthy blame,  
And tho distinguished first for ends more high,  
Both equally debauched by ' his Effrontry,  
And acts so mad, and foolish (yet called Love,  
Thereby engrossing the whole Monopoly)  
That one would think't should Indignation move,  
Such Follies to commit, such Madness to reprove.   

XLIII.  
A Medly, with part Folly, Madness part,  
And is the All of Love, Person, or Thing,  
Or Act, or power, or by the Poet's Art  
However called, as he can Matter bring,  
Of Love in Numbers and in Verse to sing;  
And tending all, as Love 's in all the same,  
By Images of divers fashioning,  
(If all are yet enough to ' expose the shame)  
One Spoiler to denote, and LEGION is his Name.   

XLIV.  
The hardest Devil to be dispossessed;  
For e'er he came the empty Rooms were swept,  
By Idleness the Housekeeper, and new dressed;  
Idleness, only for that service kept,  
And who, or so employed, or ever slept:  
A brawny Carl, that ne'er did work beside,  
But here commanded forward briskly stepped;  
And rather than be found unoccupied,  
The Windows stopped, and all the several Lights did hide.   

XLV.  
But Fancy well enough did that supply,  
Or little mist, Loves next forerunner light;  
Who having once upreared his tender Eye,  
And of the Object ta'en the distant height,  
Made up the view all by Internal Sight:  
And with new Beauties unperceived before,  
But there displayed, himself did first delight;  
Then opened, which he'had to him shut, the Door,  
To let in loose Desire, and again tell them o'er.   

XLVI.  
So in Desire came, vainest of the Three,  
And after him in Triumph road the Fiend;  
Whom seven Spirits, full as bad as he,  
Did close behind in Mascarade attend,  
And Io sang to Love, that Heaven did rend:  
So sang they all, but with unequal grace,  
As were their looks; for some their Brows did bend,  
And grinned most horrid, with distorted Face;  
Others were blithe, and smiled as they along did pass.   

XLVII.  
These Folly were, and Mirth, and Dalliance,  
Who hardly could their Way for laughing hold,  
By Genius closed; the Three, who looked askance,  
And midst their shouts could hardly cease to scold,  
Were Lust, that scorned by th' best to be controlled;  
And Proteus Sin, who divers Shapes put on,  
As divers kind, and Names he ' had manifold;  
And Death, the seventh from Love, mere Skeleton  
One half, t'other Fantastic clad as shall be shown.   

XLVIII.  
Folly the First, by ' her Habit seemed a Maid,  
And by her Face, which was excelling fair;  
Tho whether such, was difficult to be said,  
Nor safe it may be, since few Men there were,  
But in her claimed with Women equal share,  
And ill had took't, had she pure Woman been:  
A pretty thing to gaze on, but whose Air,  
And Gate, and Gesture, made it quickly seen,  
She none of th' Wisest was, and somewhat lacked within.   

XLIX.  
Light Gesture, Gate ungraceful, composed Air,  
Save when she spoke, or laughed; but then betrayed  
A thousand Follies, with prodigious glare;  
For by a Glass she with a Shadow played,  
(Her self, to whom she frequent Honours made)  
And every glance, which she designed to cast,  
And every look, by that in order laid;  
And to such troublesome Impertinence passed,  
That every little Word she thereby formed at last,   

L.  
Mirth was a Youth of beautiful regard,  
With cheerful Eyes, plump downy Cheeks, and Chin;  
And nothing in his looks, or strange, or hard,  
That, if one by the Face could aught divine,  
All Beauties there amassed did seem to shine:  
All that can Man become, or Love excite  
In Love's great Critics, the Sex Feminine;  
All but i'th' Timorous, whom his Whip did fright,  
And more deter, than all his other Charms invite.   

LI.  
For in his Hand a Bloody Discipline,  
With many o' pointed Rowel stuck, he bore;  
And wherewith, when unmarked, he saw his time,  
Backward reflecting, he his Shoulders tore,  
And the smooth Channel filled with purple gore:  
But when or Folly called, or Dalliance,  
The fretting exercise he soon gave o'er,  
And, as recovered from a sullen Trance,  
Met with quick Eyes, and amorous Look each smiling Glance.   

LII.  
Him Dalliance followed next, a Damsel gay,  
Of light behaviour, as she well could feign;  
And wantonly her Breast did open lay,  
The Lover who came next, to entertain;  
Tho who the He were of her mighty Train,  
She was not much solicitous to know,  
Nor much to fancy him herself did pain;  
For she like Favours did on all bestow,  
And bonnour was to all, how high so e'er or low.   

LIII.  
A Nightgown was the Habit which she wore,  
Loosely clapped round her, but so airy thin,  
That through its light disguise appeared the more,  
What she ne'er strove to hide, her beauteous Skin,  
And just proportion of each curious Limb:  
With Impudence too luscious to be told,  
And speech Lascivious, when she did begin,  
Which none, but like herself, unchaste, and bold,  
Or unreproved could hear, or unashamed behold.   

LIV.  
Next after her in order Genius came,  
Of Body somewhat gross, but Humour free;  
Whom part called Comus, as by his Surname,  
Tho both, or either with him well agree,  
Without whom Love, nor merry Life can be:  
A right good Fellow, as his Belly showed,  
Which in a Swath reached almost to his Knee,  
And made him passage through th' admiring Crowd;  
Which shouting to him louted, as to them he bowed.   

LV.  
No wrinkle in his Counte'nance did appear,  
Nor careful thought seemed to come near his Mind,  
Of what should be; but things, which present were,  
Variously turned him, as did sit the Wind,  
And this way now, now that way he inclined:  
Tho if 'twere still, (and sometime still it lay)  
Diversions to himself he'd make, or find;  
And sometimes only muse a livelong Day,  
Tho asked on what, he or nought knew, or nought could say.   

LVI.  
These were the fairest Shows Love's entrance had,  
And of the Pomp the sightliest Officers,  
Who therefore next the Carr Triumphal stayed,  
But Spirits Incarnate were, and all as fierce,  
Provoke once, as those Fatal Ministers  
Of his, and more than his, of th' Wrath Divine,  
Which followed next, with look, and mien perverse;  
A Grisly, Horrid, and Prodigious Trine,  
Which hardly into shape, Love could by ' his Art refine.   

LVII.  
Lust was the First, but whether Man, or Beast,  
Or He, or She, one could by no means know,  
For it both Sexes had, and did invest  
Mankind above, and Beast mishapeed below,  
And slote divided did for ostent show:  
With shaggy Hair the whole Body covered o'er,  
And poisonous stench, which he around did throw,  
Undampt by th' Perfumes, which the Satire bore,  
(For so they called him) and about him ever wore.   

LVIII.  
A very satire, whom he nearest came,  
In Face, and Guise, but in Deformity  
Excelled, the first of the Family, and Name;  
And shameless was his Look, and lewd his Eye,  
But sharp withal, Beauties which cloistered lie,  
First to discover, then to circumvent,  
By Clamour, wherein lowed he was and high,  
Nor could forbear, as he in Triumph went;  
Prime Visier of the Port, and Loves chief Confident.   

LIX.  
Sin followed him, who was his Eldest Son,  
And only Child, with place and dignity,  
His Parents Titles suiting, and his own;  
But on his own he mostly did rely,  
And all, but what his own was, did decry;  
Would, and did loudly against Lust declaim,  
As Impotent, courageous to defy,  
But who to Handy-blows, or never came,  
Or not with such effect, as he, to get a Name.   

LX.  
For though but one, a thousand Heads he had,  
And twice a thousand Hands boldly to fight;  
An Army of himself, and which he made  
Greater, or less, as the Cause did invite;  
(Love, and Loves Good Old Cause was his delight)  
Rebellion, whose design to carry on,  
Himself he variously, as ' it happed, would dight,  
A Beasts, or Man's form take now, and anon  
Angels, or Fiends, a multitude, one be, or none.   

LXI.  
But Death the third, the same shape always kept,  
If Shape it might be called, that shape had none,  
Except in that half of him, which foremost stepped  
And to the view exposed a side of Bone,  
That seemed with Skin to have been clothed upon,  
And Musculage, not many Days before;  
For scarcely cleansed was the Skeleton,  
And here and there appeared fresh stains of Gore,  
And gobbets of green flesh, which from the joints he tore.   

LXII.  
Tother half was the Universe, and all,  
And every thing, that in the World is found,  
Which hastens, or is ready at Death's call,  
And are th' Ingredients, which he does compound,  
Or single, or in Mass to give the Wound:  
A dreadful Mixture, and of which to tell,  
Almost to think, would th' greatest Wit confound;  
For since the time that Man from Happi'ness fell,  
They were collecting, and had at the bottom Hell.   

LXIII.  
Where e'er he came, these were Love's Company,  
With Train and Baggage, which did far extend;  
And Many suiting so great Prince as He,  
For Prince and God they called him, though Pure Fiend:  
Unquiet Care, which all his time did spend  
Himself to ' undo, backed by Suspicion,  
Then Impudence, which did to Lechery lend  
His unchaste Ear, and Fury bade come on,  
By Riotice drawn up, and Irreligion:   

LXIV.  
Without door Danger, and Distrust did wait,  
And Fear, that never was himself at rest,  
Or others would permit their Watch to ' abate;  
And Jealousy, which though he were possessed  
Of what he loved, for rage tore his own Breast;  
And Lust unnatural, and Villainy,  
And Revellings, in thousand Antics dressed;  
And Poverty, in Rags clad piteously,  
Calling aloud for Death, which did th' unhappy fly.   

LXV.  
It fled him, as one, who from Love was fled,  
Under the Disc'ipline, if he had the skill  
To use it right, of Sorrow, seeming dead,  
But which for a blessed Life prepares Our will,  
By that Repentance, which Shame does instil;  
Repentance the first step to Innocence,  
Whose various parts it makes, or does fulfil:  
But whereof Lustful Minds have little sense,  
Till Shame sum up the Total of the vast expense.   

LXVI.  
Death such a Bankrupt therefore flies,  
Hasting to those, who called, or called him not,  
By Loves own Hands crowned for the Sacrifice,  
And or pursueed, or i'th' pursuit were hot,  
ere well aware to th' end of all things got,  
By Death inglorious, and with Infamy;  
(Of most Luxurious Livers the hard lot)  
Yet which Love coloured with such Mastery,  
That the most followed, what the most did seem to fly.   

LXVII.  
For Love had thousand Deaths at his command,  
And every Lover, might his own Fate make,  
Which some did, but by'a way so underhand,  
That from the praise of Love it much did take,  
And many he Lover lost he for their sake;  
Tho such he pleaded were by him given o'er,  
(If all might be believed, which then Love spoke)  
Nor could to his account be reckoned more,  
Than if thus, or a Natural Death they died before.   

LXVIII.  
Be the Point therefore, as it will for me,  
Who list not further of it here to tell;  
Enough are Lovers Deaths we daily see,  
(And so 'twas then) a Songs scant bounds to swell▪  
Nor yet for Love, or them contrived so well,  
But that one midst the Pomp might easily find  
The Mighty, by whose cruel Hands they fell;  
And Verdict give the Murder was designed,  
By th' Pains they felt before, Reproach they left behind.   

LXIX.  
Pains more than can of Mortal Tongue be told,  
And sharper than ere Tyrant did invent;  
Which the whole Man did in straight Fetters hold,  
Till tortured Nature, quite worn out, was spent,  
Of Love the Guerdon and the Punishment:  
Yet Tyrant's Racks found out, the Pale, and Wheel,  
And Fire, and all that can by Fire torment,  
Or be prepared, th' ●x, and derr-doing Steel,  
But make no wounds all, set with those which Lovers feel.   

LXX.  
Thrice, and than thrice more wretched state of Love,  
When Innocence and Truth to Heaven were gone!  
But seve'n times wretcheder it yet did prove,  
When this Mock-love wholly usurped the Throne,  
(As he ' after did) and single reigned alone,  
With Name and Power alike usurped, yet was,  
Ah! What not was he?— But 'tis time to ' have done  
With him, who can to Verse give little grace,  
And in another Canto to the True Love pass.    

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. THE LEGEND OF LOVE.  
CANTO III.  

I.  
TIRED with the Way I have already gone  
Longer by many a Stage, than setting out  
I thought it would have proved, and where there's none  
To guide me, in the search I am about,  
How well I shall succeed is my great doubt,  
Who almost of the Enterprise repent,  
Wishing I better of it first had thought;  
At least before me some Spials sent,  
Who might have told the hazard of the bold Attempt.   

II.  
But to repent (alas!) 'tis now too late,  
And in the last Act fail, a wrong to Love,  
Which in another I should surely hate,  
And cannot in myself unblamed approve,  
What Arguments so ere Distrust may move;  
Which many, cogent seem, and weighty all,  
But all which by this single●One I reprove,  
That well if well, if ill succeed I shall,  
'Tis not inglorious from the noblest heights to fall.   

III.  
But help me Love, and I'll not yet despair!  
For other Muse I dare not invocate;  
None but thyself, with whom the Treasures are  
Of bright Ideas, though discovered late  
To me, who half my time in Darkness sat,  
Ylamped only by a Foolish Fire,  
Whose wand'ring guidance I now deprecate,  
Led by it often, and my vain desire,  
To whence I could not till Thy Day broke out, retire.   

IV.  
At length it broke out, and I came to know  
How woefully I had mistake my Way;  
Shine forth again with double Glory now,  
And in my Verse Thy fairest Beams display,  
That others with me in it triumph may:  
And having their Night Sullys thence refined,  
Carol with sacred Hymns to th' Beauteous Day;  
Carol to Thee, by Heaven, and God designed,  
The Counterfeit to ' uncase, and Eyes restore the Blind.   

V.  
LONG had the Mock-love, by his false disguise,  
Upon the Credulous World imposed, but more  
Upon himself, if he had been so wise  
To think how much 'twould cost him to restore,  
And, what by tort he ' had snatched, a new pay o'er;  
But this (alas!) came seldom in his thought,  
Rather perverse still, as he was before,  
The World, which he had into Bondage brought,  
Eternally to ' enthral, was th' only Prize he sought.   

VI  
This was his aim, nor to rebate it found,  
Save Prophecies of a Supplauters race;  
Which well he knew not, and could worse expound,  
Wherein the happy Country was the place,  
Whence was foretold should come his great disgrace;  
But when, or how, though himself Oracles gave,  
Too hard to be resolved was the dark case;  
Nor could he any certain knowledge have,  
Who should the Mighty Conqueror be, his Thralls to ' unslave.   

VII.  
The happy Country well enough he knew,  
Part of his Syria to be ' height Palestine;  
Wherefore he thither his Chief Forces drew,  
And seized it first by all more than double Trine  
Of cursed Nations, from the Great Cham's Line,  
Cham, who first gave him credit by his Arms,  
And then his Empire to him did resign;  
Cham, whom he thus rewarded for the harms  
He had sustained, to be Campmaster of his Charms.   

VIII.  
Seven cursed Nations, of his cursed Seed,  
To be its constant Guard Love thither sent;  
Who ●●ll'd the Land so with their cursed Breed,  
That scarce was left him room for his own Tent,  
Less for new Col'onies, if such thither went:  
A stup▪ d, bestial, and unmanly Rout,  
That all their Age in Lust's unnatural spent;  
Till the time came their Land should spew them out,  
Too long oppressed, and bring the dread Foresight about.   

IX.  
Lov● saw it coming, and began to fear,  
When Jacob's numerous Host, from Bondage led,  
Unto the Cananitish bounds drew near,  
Seizing the Nations with unusual Dread,  
While Seas to make them way rose up and fled;  
But never did he more confounded stand,  
Than when he Jordan saw recoil to ' his Head,  
And to new Armies shared by Lot his Land,  
Supplanted ere he did th' Supplanters understand.   

X.  
Before he doubted those would prove the Men,  
And therefore when they were upon the Way,  
From Madian dressed a Female Stratagem,  
By which above two Myriad slaughtered lay,  
Tho Madian for it after dear did pay,  
And he who gave the Counsel with them fell.  
Balam their Priest and his the Sword did slay,  
To expiate for th' Whoredoms he did sell,  
And more advise, than by Prophetic rage foretell:   

XI.  
But then he knew it, and in every Age,  
As Israel did in wealth and power increase,  
New Wars would with the Holy People wage,  
Wars Amorous, the sad result of Peace;  
Nor his Assaults defeated oft surcease;  
Till David was exalted to the Throne,  
With Testimony that he God did please,  
As Enoch had, and then Love gave for gone  
All he before had gained, and by his Conquests won.   

XII.  
Ah! that it had been gone! and that his sway  
Had here expired! But Jesses Son soon fell,  
A victim at his Altars, and a Prey;  
Wherewith, and with his Pride he so did swell,  
That though he after had not much to tell,  
Nor much to boast more, during his whole Reign,  
Eluded was he judged the Oracle,  
Nor could there for him ought behind remain,  
But what He thus had got, as haply to maintain.   

XIII.  
This Salomon's youth did easily persuade,  
(David's next Successor) who tho most wise,  
(Love of the Wisest ne'er was yet afraid)  
Had other Grandures, which might chance to rise  
Higher in Love's account, well placed, than his:  
Infinite Riches, Peaceful Government,  
The Necks, and Pleasures of his Enemies;  
And, what then these was more, a mind intent,  
Of Folly, and of Love to make th' Experiment.   

XIV.  
He made it, and in making it was caught,  
To his Lands baleful Ruin, and his own;  
And both, by him that, he by Love ill taught,  
As from a Precipice together thrown,  
ne'er stopped till come to th' bottom Headlong down▪  
Unhappy Prince, who could not single fall!  
Whose smiles appeared more fatal than his frown;  
The Kingdom's Laws this, for the Criminal,  
But bad example those, which further reached to all!   

XV.  
And now, if ever, Love to the top was got  
Of his unmeasurable Sovereignty;  
So far above his Hope and deepest Plot,  
That scarce could he believe what he did see,  
And almost trembled in those heights to be,  
Compared with which the Honours he had gained,  
In the World Heathen, were a low degree;  
For there he o'er the brutish only reigned,  
The Noblest, and the Wisest here to ' his Lore were trained.   

XVI.  
Even God himself most High to serve was made;  
And his first Institution, Marriage,  
Cement of holy Love, so base allayed,  
That it degen'rated to Bestial rage,  
And more divided, than it did engage  
To mutual Amours and joined Hearts consent:  
Madness before begun, but which this Age,  
With ancient Rites, indulged long, not content,  
Perfected by a new, and wild Establishment,   

XVII.  
Of sharers infinite in the Marriage Bed,  
By this false Love's prime Ministers brought in;  
With Artifice, at first, close palliated,  
The Newmade World, which was but peopled thin,  
To stock amain and plausibly begin:  
Hence Bigamy, and then Polygamy,  
Divorce next, to them near of kin,  
On every small dislike, did multiply,  
And Children reckoned were of Love's huge Family.   

XVIII.  
And so it stood, even in the Holy Race,  
(From the Beginning though it were not so)  
For many Ages of permissive Grace,  
But more of Hardness that i'th' Heart did grow  
Of those, who no delight in One would know,  
And whom Variety would only please:  
Yet God at first but One designed, to show  
His, and the power of Love, and if Disease  
Abused 't should after be, its Remedy and Ease.   

XIX.  
(For more, if more are sought the drought to allay,  
But like strange waters to th' Hydropic prove,  
And frequent draughts, which in the Bowels stay,  
And nor the Thirst, nor the Disease remove;  
And such is Change to him, who Change does love,  
(The more, the worse) He drinks, and thirsts again,  
And still the more he drinks, does more improve  
His Thirst, the very remedy is pain,  
Yet neither can shake off, of neither but complain.)   

XX.  
And that Disease 'twould prove, in his Foresight,  
Abused once, the Almighty knew, and thence  
To he single Circle bound the subtle Spirit,  
Who, one transgressed, was Proof against all fence,  
And easi'ly could with Just and Fit dispense;  
One Partner in chaste Nuptials, as enough  
Their Ornament to be, and their Defence,  
By Sin prevented, all that was above,  
Or two, or more, or many, came from this False Love.   

XXI.  
From him they came All, but successively,  
And even the Many yet were but a Few,  
Compared with that excess, which grown most high,  
In Salomon's Reign, no limits had, or knew,  
And into th' Band, not One, but Hundreds drew:  
Seven hundred Wives, Three hundred Concubines,  
Whom the Uxorious King did close pursue,  
A Female Army, under Love's Ensigns,  
With Treasure infi'nit drained, and with exausted Loins.   

XXII.  
Prodigious Astoreth, be ' it a He, or She,  
Or both, or neither, an opprobrious Stock;  
For Sex in Idols is a Nicety  
Unknown to th' Makers, whom it ne'er did choque  
To style as they should please the senseless Block:  
Tho if they called it by a Female Name,  
More Folly, and less Power, they if ere did yoke;  
And, if need served, a Male the God became,  
Their own to ' attemper, and expose the Votaries shame.   

XXIII.  
Be it prodigious therefore, and a She!  
And a She this Mock-Love, if so it please!  
Prodigious Astoreth! and prodigious He,  
Who was her Slave, and Slave to he thousand she's,  
On the Rack put by ' his Lusts, or Marriages!  
And if 'tis true, that each a Body makes,  
(And true it is) how monstrous with all these,  
Must his appear, who has so different stakes,  
Where each with only ' him, he with each, and all partakes?   

XXIV.  
With all partook he, and made up with all  
One monstrous Body, which did all contain;  
All Lands, and Languages, from the huge Wall  
Of Babylon, to where Nile beds the Main,  
Lusty in Egypt's Spoils, with Pompous Train:  
No Country was there, but sent in some Love,  
No Love, but did its Country's Gods retain.  
All which he served, if he were Service-proof,  
Enough to satiate, not to satify enough.   

XXV.  
Marriage perverted thus from its design,  
Love to enhance, and raise an Holy Seed,  
To hinder Whoredoms, and the Rage confine  
Of an unruly Passion, which did need  
More Reins than Spurs, and of Hell's fiercest breed;  
But above all, nobly to typify  
The Mystic Union, which shall intercede  
'Twixt Christ & holy Church, Man & th' Most High,  
All Mischiefs thence broke in, and all Idolatry.   

XXVI.  
Thence Whoredoms, Fornications thence broke in,  
And, which the Holy People did overflow,  
Rapes, Incests, and than Incest worse, the Sin  
Confusion called, foul Sod'omy, and a row  
Of bestial Vices, which 'twere guilt to know,  
But more to tell; The ' unwary Course some take  
Lust to perstringe by action, or by show,  
But teaching more, what does no teaching lack,  
And those whose Ign'orance, their whole Innocence does make.   

XXVII.  
Yet Israel acted all, and did outdo,  
Well thewed in Villainies, their Teacher's skill;  
And Men with Men, with womans Women too  
All Shame put off, and did both parts fulfil,  
With Sexes counterfeited, (every Hill,  
And Grove with Humane Beasts, and mingled Blood  
Promiscuous cast, replenished thick) the while  
Brutes themselves, as less savage, wondering stood,  
Man o'er them made to reign, should with them change Manhood.   

XXVIII.  
No wonder thus debased, new Gods they chose,  
Gods like themselves, and they new Gods did choose,  
Prodigious as their Lusts, on whom they'impose  
Horrors the Beast would, if it could, refuse,  
Designed for Service and a nobler use:  
Baalim and Astaroth, or whatever name  
Those Generals include, bleeding Thamuze,  
Dagon, and Moloch, Kemos, Moabs' shame,  
And thousand others, which into the Bead-roll came:   

XXIX.  
All which they worshipped, and did lowly bow  
Before their Altars; lowest bowed their King,  
Who Temples made them, and did first allow  
Their Rites absurd, (by his strange Wives brought in,  
Authentic made, when their establishing  
Own'd him as Founder) and some think that Verse  
Then lustful Orgias first began to sing,  
And prostituted Mysteries rehearse,  
Which Fabulous Greece did after through the World disperse.   

XXX.  
Verse it is sure, did early suffer wrong;  
And Tyrant Love debauched it, as he ' had done  
God's noblest Creature, for the chains are strong,  
With which he holds it yet, as if his own  
It purely were, and were enough alone  
All that he else has lost back to regain,  
And whence he had been tumbled, to the Throne  
Once more advance him, in his Hands the Rein  
Of all things, midst an holier People, put again.   

XXXI.  
It served a little then, its service now  
Is wondrously increased, since Sloth, and Age  
Have heightened Vice, and made Verse to it bow;  
To th' Gods before it was in Vassalage,  
And only knew the Pythonesses rage,  
Or Priests inspired, to all beside most chaste,  
To Virtue did, and to true Worth engage;  
And if the Object had been rightly placed,  
Might for a real Virtue, and true Grace have past.   

XXXII.  
But now, (what quickly after it begun)  
Retaining nothing but the Ill ' it has gained,  
By Lux, and Travel, it does counter-run  
To all that's Good, or Honest, or maintained  
I'th' Civil World's esteem, with Atheism stained,  
(As the next step to many Gods is none)  
And all Impiety, has place obtained  
With the worst Men, and is so furious grown,  
That in its fits it God and King defies alone.   

XXXIII.  
These it defies, and dare unmasked profess,  
(Where'it may be free, and to its full pitch flown)  
What e'ven to think abashed mere Heathenness;  
Nay when reserved most, and most modest grown,  
'Twill others Follies sing, and make its own,  
And than the Wise much rather please the Vain:  
But since its present State too well is known  
To be concealed, myself I shall not pain  
To tell it here, or further, though provoked complain.   

XXXIV.  
Ah! that it would itself, or could complain!  
And of the Lusts, to which it did submit  
Unwillingly at first, nor without pain,  
But willingly when Custom humbled it,  
Betrayed by ' its false and treacherous Mi'gnon Wit:  
Her Mistress Verse the treacherous Maid beguiled,  
The false Love her; and up they both did set  
One shameless Brothel, wanton that, this wild,  
Till both of Honour, Virtue, and true Love were spoiled.   

XXXV.  
Despoiled they were, despoiled, what they did serve,  
Honour, and Virtue, and the Love Divine,  
And Wedlock, which did covertly preserve  
Some Traces of a Vigour Masculine,  
Which Lust could never to its Beck incline  
So perfectly, but it resistance made,  
Weak as it was, and sprung a Countermine:  
But now aside all Enmities were laid,  
And all with one consent did plot Heav●n to invade.   

XXXVI.  
Which as th' Almighty saw into his Mind,  
That Mind of his it came, which ever love  
To ' his Works did bear, to Man was ever kind,  
The madness of such faitors to reprove,  
And what none else could do, the Cause remove;  
The cause was this Mock-Love, whom to debase,  
Into his Mind it came, by him, who strove  
So high to raise him, and who what he was,  
Of all Men best did know, did all in Loves surpass.   

XXXVII.  
Wise Solomon, who when he long had tried  
The vain Experiment, at length grew Wise;  
Nor longer with him would the secret hide,  
Than till th' Almighty opened had his Eyes,  
And to him cleared the blessed Discoveries:  
Till his Repentance had his Love's effaced,  
And Credence gained us, that, immersed to rise  
Tho hard it be, the Doom may not be passed,  
If what's too long one Day deferred, yet come at last.   

XXXVIII.  
Him his great Prophet God most high did raise,  
Turning the Tenor of his inspired String,  
Of Ancient Honour, and of Future Praise,  
But most of Love, the Cause, and end to sing,  
And hidden Mysteries to the Light to bring;  
The mighty Works th' Almighty's Self would do,  
For Loves, and his BELOVED'S ransoming:  
All which he did to th' Royal Prophet show,  
And all which, by him taught, his Israel came to know.   

XXXIX.  
Not as those Works, when finished perfectly  
Should be displayed, but as became their state,  
And Him, who was, restored, the Type to be  
Of all the Glories, which he should relate;  
By Figures, and by Shadows adequate  
To Humane Reasonings, and Discourse finite;  
By his changed Loves a Love to adumbrate,  
Which cannot else be seen by Mortal Light,  
God's Love to Man, which different Natures should unite.   

XL.  
That Love, which God in time from Heaven should bring,  
With Man to dwell, and as true Man appear;  
Which Man no less, of all his Works the King,  
To Heaven, excluded thence by ' his Fall, should bear,  
And on his Wings triumphantly up-rear:  
And all the way, as he does thither rise,  
With Idees fill him of the Beauties there;  
That Love, in fine, which does all Loves comprise,  
Whence Man to ' his Maker lives, his Maker for him dies.   

XLI.  
Of all which Marriage is the Sacrament;  
(Or Symbol call it, if the Name displease)  
The closest Union to represent,  
'Twixt God and Man, 'twixt Man and Happiness;  
And if there closer Union be than these,  
Or more (and whether more be meant who knows?  
Tho closer none) in one Term all to express;  
Marriage, which once confirmed by holy Vows,  
Is Love's Reprisal, and in one all Unions shows.   

XLII.  
So God most High resolved, so Solomon,  
By him inspired did carnal Love impeach  
Of highest Treason, and Rebellion;  
The first, who plainly did the Mystery preach,  
And what himself, but late learned, others teach:  
That Love alone, whose long and outstretched Line,  
Through Nature's Works, to Nature's end does reach,  
Their Love, whom God, not Lust or Interest join,  
Unequal though it be, comes nearest the Divine.   

XLIII.  
As near as was, or fit for us to know,  
Or possible, in Mortal Flesh immured;  
(Tho God himself the Form would take below)  
When brighter Vision could not be endured,  
Nor Loves invisible taught else, or secured;  
For such is Man, though of God's Works the chief,  
Of things Invisible to be assured,  
That from things Visible he must receive  
Th' imperfect Image, and of God by ' himself conceive.   

XLIV.  
His Body's structure, and his Souls great Powers,  
Both which as having God himself propounds;  
Tho Acts Organical are purely Ours,  
And he the Deity by the shift confounds,  
Who makes it what the Parable expounds,  
With Senses, and with Parts corporeal,  
Loving like us, and with a Lovers Wounds,  
Which from the Deity are excluded all,  
And only used, that under Sense those Acts may fall.   

XLV.  
Yet so God loves, so would be known to Love,  
As Love i'th' Marriage Bed, kept undefiled,  
Might figure best, if one the Veil remove,  
Our Nature, which of Innocence dispoyl●d,  
Till raised, whence sunk, beguiles and is beguiled;  
But once restored, is worthy Him, and Us,  
Him still to love, with Love us to be filled,  
(Of Grace not Debt) become both Amorous,  
The Church's Husband He, the Church his Bride and Spouse.   

XLVI.  
Thus loving, and beloved thus shame on those,  
Whose either Atheism, or Impiety,  
Dare the Tremendous Figure, or expose,  
Or subject make it of foul Raillery,  
And to vile Lust embase the Mystery!  
That of their Happ'ness have so little sense,  
Their God, their Souls, and their Civility,  
That they with things most sacred can dispense,  
And rather than not give it, take from Heaven offence!   

XLVII.  
From Thee, most sacred and inspired Song,  
The humblest Condescension of heavens King,  
From which my roving Verse has strayed too long,  
Led by the Mock-love, and now late does sing;  
Next that the humblest, which with Saffron Wing,  
Gabriel, the True-love's mighty Harbinger,  
Foretold to the EVER-VIRGIN, ere the thing  
Was full accomplished, and thereof did bear,  
When done first News, and what the signs to know him were.   

XLVIII.  
Signs too unlikely, till by Angels told,  
Whereby the Maker of all things to find;  
For who would think a simple Cratch should hold  
Eternal Majesty, mean Swathing bind  
Th' Incomprehensible, and Unconfined;  
And that an Ox, and Ass were company,  
(To Scorn enured, and labour by their kind)  
In an Inns-Stable fit for God Most High,  
And that a Babe should be that God, and exposed lie?   

XLIX.  
Yet signs they were with Heaven which suited best,  
And best with God, when God should Flesh appear;  
And so was Wedlock, thence to be expressed,  
ere that time came, the Image he should bear,  
Or rather what ourselves, allied to ' him near,  
(Nearer by Purchase, than Creation)  
Should thence become; like Glories with him wear,  
And since to us it could not else be known,  
Till Man to Heaven should rise, high Heaven to Man bring down.   

L.  
By Love to bring it: And by Love HE brought it,  
Who all the Mysteries of Love did know;  
Second alone to Love's dear self, who taught it,  
As or above it was, or as below,  
And in thee, Song, its Mystic Power did show:  
Not as thy Words to ' us sound, but as thy Sense,  
To th' Church applied, by ●oly Churches Vow,  
Must be expounded, with this Difference,  
Of God 'tis Figure All, of Man all Innocence,   

LI.  
Of Soul and Body, but of Soul the most,  
Whose Acts and Motions Thou dost most intent,  
By views Material, to our Light disposed,  
But where the Matter does all Act suspend,  
And shadows what it cannot comprehend;  
Is nothing, or as nothing, how e'er laid,  
Compared with what comparison does transcend;  
Nor meant at all, though by it all is said,  
That's said of Love, which through its broken Pipe's conveyed.   

LII.  
So wouldst Thou, Song, so must Thou be understood;  
And short of this, who e'er Thy Flight would bond,  
To th' Deity sacrifices Human Blood,  
And fixes on th' Impassable that Wound,  
Which the Mock-love to offer had astounded.  
For He soon as he heard the words Divine,  
His Sentence in them, and his Doom he found;  
At which affrighted, back he did resign  
All he before usurped, nor aught had to rejoin.   

LIII.  
Happy he so could scape, though e'er away,  
Cast, and condemned, he into Exile went,  
The True Love, who long waited for that Day,  
Hymen his great Ambassador down sent,  
To beg some Exemplary Punishment,  
And Caution, that he would return no more:  
But all the Caution, which to give he meant,  
Was but his Word, nor longer t●at than Power  
Should fail him to attempt, what he had done before.   

LIV.  
For Punishment, 'twas yet too early Day,  
To move, or hope; Himself enough had done,  
By those Spoils, which unforceed he down did lay,  
The Jurisdiction of heavens Court to own,  
Whom that acknowledgement must serve or none:  
And out he went, with stern, and bloody Eyes,  
And bitter Rail on blessed Hymen thrown;  
Who all his Rail did no less despise,  
Content (since he no more could get) with the bare Prize,   

LV.  
Marriage restored to ' its Just and Ancient Right,  
And all th' Intents, to which it was designed;  
Marriage, which once secured, does Souls unite,  
And made in Heaven, to Heaven so near is joined,  
That only there we purer Love can find:  
Marriage of th' Fallen World the best Estate,  
Marriage most Honourable with Mankind,  
Which to abuse, a Man his Flesh must hate,  
Marriage God's Blessing, when He gave o'er to create.     

To the Muse, ODE PINDARIC.  

I. STROPHE.  
BUT whither bearest Thou me, O Love,  
Sovereign Disposer of all things,  
Beyond the flight of Verses Wings,  
Which after Thee a Course unequal move?  
So swift Thy passage is, and wondrous light,  
Scarce can I of Thee get the sight;  
And all so here, and there,  
So unconfined, and every where,  
Appear Thou dost, and disappear,  
A Phantosm Thou wouldst reckoned be,  
But that whole Nature lives alone by Thee.   

I. ANTISTROPHE.  
From Heaven to Earth, from Earth again  
To Heaven, who has Love's Journey traceed?  
Hail ye bright Stars, which saw him last,  
And greater Lustre by his grant obtain!  
You last of all his parting Charge received,  
And still to keep it are believed,  
In times, and seasons thence,  
Which you to all his Works dispense,  
With kind and wholesome Influence;  
And at his Thrones dread Footstool wait,  
Illustrious Guards and Messengers of Fate.   

I. EPODOS.  
" Happy the Man, whose noble Soul  
" Hath raised him to a pitch so high,  
" That he the heavens, as they about him roll,  
" Undazled can behold with curious Eye;  
" And every Mystic note,  
" That's in their Mighty Volume wrote,  
" As clearly understand,  
" As if acquainted with no other hand:  
" Yet happier He by far,  
" Who like the Kings, first guided by a Star,  
" Obtains like Royal Grace,  
" Into the Sacred Presence, ushered thus, to pass!   

II. STROPHE.  
An Honour done but to a few,  
As few there be, who care to join  
Their quest to th' search of Love Divine,  
Thither applying, what from thence they drew;  
heavens Priests, and Loves, who have the lucky skill,  
Both Services at once to fill;  
Nor like the most all day,  
Or Idle stand, or play,  
And gaze tho' on Heaven their Age away:  
Of Love, who largely boast the Name,  
But never saw his Light, or felt his Flame.   

II. ANTISTROPHE.  
At once both Services he filled,  
Whom the Muse sings, both knows the best  
Of any, who ere those Gifts possessed,  
In Books so different so divinely skilled;  
Natures and God's, the Gloss that, this the Text,  
And read together unperplext:  
While that, by ' itself alone.  
Read, as too oft is done,  
But Altars rears to ' a God unknown;  
To th' True this does a way provide,  
But difficult to walk without a Guide.   

II. EPODOS.  
Not SETH, whose Pillars Fabulous  
Survived the alldevouring Flood,  
Taught the New World the Half he teaches us,  
Were all he taught as well but understood:  
Tho when of Love He treats,  
And His high Mysteries repeats,  
All hear, and what is heard  
By all for certain Truth is so revered,  
The ravished Soul resents  
Its tedious stay, and future joys prevents;  
Rapt in Ecstatic Fires  
To the Divine Abodes, almost i'th' Flame expires.   

III. STROPHE.  
Witness Thou Sarums sacred Pile,  
Which from the day Thou first cam'st down  
From the parched neighbouring Hill, the Town  
Attending Thee, and shouting all the while,  
None happier saw'st than that which made Thee His,  
And Him Thine with united bliss.  
Thy Streams, Thy Fields, Thy Towers,  
By the Graces led, and Hours,  
Danced to their Genius Crowned with Flowers:  
Thy very Children bless that time  
And their new Aera from its date sublime.   

III. ANTISTROPHE.  
Not but that worthy Thee, and Verse,  
There have been Praelats heretofore,  
(Tho none so Worthy) had like store  
Of sacred Poets been, as now rehearse.  
But all (alas!) are in Oblivion drowned,  
Unsung laid underground,  
Because the Muse's aid,  
To all th' Acquists they made,  
Or lacking was, or else unprayed:  
And their fond hopes of Future glory,  
Or to dumb Walls confined, or doubtful story.   

III. EPODOS.  
So Thy first Fathers, so others fareed  
Before, and since Thy great Translation;  
And if to ' escape 'twas not for some so hard,  
The Works they wrote, were their Fame's best Foundation;  
In which an Age they live,  
That Brass, and Marble shall survive.  
So Jewel ever lives,  
And life to ' his very Enemy gives.  
So shall Thy Reverend Lord  
Long hence be Thine, and His own best Record.  
Hast to Him Muse, and take  
At ' his Knees that blessing, which may Thee Immortal make.    

To the Right Reverend FATHER IN GOD, SETH Lord Bishop of SARUM.  
MINDFUL, whence first she learned the early Skill,  
In humble strains Almighty LOVE to sing;  
And then of Her, to whom she ' her Works does bring,  
The CHURCH, and College, both whose Names instil  
Like Sentiments, and shall Fames Records fill  
With Worthies, fit to ' employ the Noblest string  
Of Heav'n-tuned Verse, and almost tyre its Wing,  
To bear them, hence translated, up its Hill:  
My Muse to You, my LORD, and your great Name,  
This LEGEND of the one, and t'other LOVE,  
(As different as their Ends and Natures prove)  
Doubly inscribes; that thence her purer Flame  
To Heaven, so offered, may more grateful rise;  
The grosser Parts be Wood for th' Sacrifice.  
FINIS.   

A PARAPHRASE UPON Some Select HYMNS OF THE NEW and OLD TESTAMENT, With some other Occasional Compositions IN English RHYMES.   

RHYMES.  

The VI great HYMNS of St. LUKE.  

I. HYMN.  
The ANGEL'S Salutation.  Ave Gratiâ plena. 
Lucae 1. 28.  
HAIL of Heaven highly Graced,  
Hail, O VIRGIN full of Grace!  
heavens Blessings all on Thee be place,  
In whom heavens GOD takes up his Place!  
Blessed Thou among all Women be,  
Blessed be Thy Name and Memory,  
Blessed VIRGIN-MOTHER be Thy Style to ' Eternity!   

II. HYMN.  
The Salutation of ELIZABETH.  Benedicta Tu inter Mulieres. 
Lucae 1. 42.  

I.  
BLESSED Thou among all Women be,  
And blest the FRUIT, which Thou dost bear!  
But whence is this great Honour done to me,  
That my LORD'S MOTHER should approach thus near  
And greater joys suppressed at Home,  
In mine to ' assist should hither come?   

II.  
Yet not at Home those greater Joys,  
Tho there suppressed, couldst Thou wholly leave,  
For scarce was heard Thy salutations Voice,  
But my glad Womb the Signal did receive:  
And there with joy the Babe did spring,  
It's present GOD to ' attest, and King,   

III.  
Thrice blest the Faith, which firm does hold!  
For a Performance there shall be  
Of all, that was by th' Heavenly Message told,  
And, or Thy happy FRUIT concerns, or Thee;  
The Sender was the Eternal Lord,  
Who having passed will Crown his Word.    

III. HYMN.  
The Song of the BLESSED VIRGIN.  Et ait Maria,— Magnificat anima, etc. 
Lucae 1. 47.  

I.  
MY SOUL does Magnify the Lord,  
My Spirit in God my Saviour does rejoice;  
My Spirit his thankful Praises shall record,  
And my Soul, thence awaked, provoke my Voice:  
Nor Soul, nor Spirit, my Judgement, or my Will,  
My Voice, or Lyre, shall in his Praise lie still,  
But all my Powers I'll summon, and their noblest skill.   

II.  
For (Lo!) his Handmaids low estate,  
He from on High has viewed with kind regard;  
His Handmaids, to th' increase of whose sad Fate,  
The Royal Blood, from whence she sprang, pressed hard:  
But now all Nations shall Record me BLEST,  
And David ●s Seed, of David's Throne possessed,  
To ' his Blood the Glory shall return, to ' his Land its rest.   

III.  
Great are the things, which He hath done,  
And done for me, who ' Himself is great of Might;  
Great though He be, 'tis Holiness alone,  
Wherein He of all Names does most delight:  
All but of is Mercy, which in him the same,  
He to Gen'erations therefore does Proclaim,  
And keep with them, who fear Him, and his Holy Name.   

IV.  
To all beside, by His Arm He is known,  
And strength Almighty, which none can repel;  
His Arm, that from their height the Proud pulls down,  
And open throws their Plots hid deep as Hell:  
That Kings and Kingdoms at its Will does sway,  
And gives their Crowns to those i'th' dust who lay,  
With good things th' Hungry fills, the Rich empty sends away.   

V.  
Israel thus hath He filled, thus raised,  
And raised up thus, will with his Hand uphold;  
Israel his firstborn; And our God be praised,  
Who mindful o● th' Inheritance passed of Old,  
Warrants to ' His Child, and with it all Decreed  
By ' His Word to our Fathers, to ' Abraham and his Seed,  
And all whom Abraham's Faith makes Parties to the Deed.    

IV. HYMN.  
The Song of ZACHARIAS.  Benedictus Dominus Deus Israel. 
Lucae 1. 68  

I.  
ISRAEL'S Great God eternally be Praised,  
Who Israel from the Dust at length hath raised;  
And mindful of his Ancient Care,  
Forgotten, when we thought we were,  
Israel to visit has himself come down,  
The Prison Doors wide open thrown,  
And by th' Redemption wrought, made his great Presence known.   

II.  
Redemption for his People has he wrought,  
And to the Throne the Royal Prisoner brought;  
To David's Throne, and 'tis his Son  
Sprung from his Loins, holds David's Throne;  
With Empire, which no place or time can bond,  
With Subjects, in all Countries found,  
Subjects, which like him shall be Kings, and like him Crowned.   

III.  
This by his Prophets, which have been of old,  
In every Age he wondrously foretold;  
(For every Age have Prophets been,  
From since the World did first begin,  
This to foretell, which now we Celebrate;)  
That God our Wrongs would vindicate,  
And from one Ruin save us, and our threatened State.   

IV.  
Not for our Righteousness, but to perform  
The Mercy promised, and his Covenant sworn;  
Promised the Fathers, who first were,  
But which himself did to ' Abraham swear,  
By Oath most Sacred; for to be no more  
Doubted, though established 'twas before,  
By ' himself, heavens greatest Oath, the God most Highest sworn.   

V.  
So God most Highest, so by ' Himself he Swore,  
And that from Heaven we should receive the Power,  
(Delivered from our Enemy's Hands,  
Their Captive Chains and Servile Bands)  
His own more Noble Service to attend,  
Fearless of all that may offend,  
In Righteousness, and holy Praise, which ne'er shall end.   

VI  
And now he comes, O Child, who this hath wrought;  
He comes, who has the great Salvation brought:  
Be thou his Prophet, and his Ways  
Prepare, while He a moment stays,  
Only till thou before Him canst prepare  
His Ways, which deep and wondrous are,  
Bylaying down his own, the Life o' th' World to spare.   

VII.  
Teach the World, Child, and make his Israel know  
Whence their Salvations mighty Source does flow;  
That from Remission of their Sin,  
The mighty Source does first begin:  
Through our God's tender Mercy, who the Way  
To Pardon does by Penance lay;  
Penance, which does the glories of his Grace display.   

VIII.  
That Grace, whereby the Dayspring from on High,  
Now visits us with Streams, which ne'er shall die.  
Streams of pure Aethereal Light,  
To shine on those, who in darkness sit;  
Which Death's pale shadow shall with Rays increase,  
And hopes long Prisoners thence release,  
And both theirs guide, and our feet into th' way of Peace.    

V. HYMN.  
The ANGELIC Hymn.  Gloria in Altissimis, etc. 
Lucae 2. 24.  
GLORY be to God on High!  
Ith' Highest Great Jehovah bless!  
Good will towards Men, on Earth be Peace!  
Glory to God on High!  
And may this Round, begun thus, last eternally.   

VI HYMN.  
The Song of SIMEON.  Nunc dimittis servum tuum, 
Lucae 2. 29.  etc. 

I.  
ENOUGH, my God, enough! I beg no more:  
Nor Thou, though begged, canst greater Grace bestow;  
My Prayers at length are answered, and I ' adore  
The Word, which from thy Mouth did go,  
The Word, which like thyself no change does know▪  
And now Thy Servant is content to die,  
Now, as the best time, since Thy Word and Life's so nigh▪   

II.  
Nigh is the Word, which Thou to me didst pass,  
Nor has Death come, me and Thy CHRIST between;  
As nigh is Life, Thy other Word, which I embrace,  
And who, that has thus happy been,  
In two great Words, fulfilled one, t'other seen,  
Would not like me desire in peace to die,  
And mortal Life exchange for Immortality?   

III.  
In Peace I die, and Thou dismissest me,  
My God, in Peace, since with these very Eyes,  
Before their change, I Thy Salvation see,  
And lack not from the Dead to rise,  
As Prophets must to ' approve their Prophecies:  
By Faith they only at a distance saw,  
What in my Arms I hold, the end of all their Law.   

IV.  
Hail, blessed Salvation of the Eternal King!  
Hail Thou, who hither bringst it, Blessed Child!  
In whom, as holy Bards inspired do sing,  
Those wondrous Truths shall be fulfilled,  
Which to Immortal Verse shall subject yield!  
Hail to you both, prepared of God to be,  
This World's Redemption, heavens and Angels scrutiny!   

V.  
Such is the great Behest; such is Thy Will,  
Who now before all Nations dost prepare  
What shall with joyous Praise all Nations fill,  
As in Him all have equal share:  
Thy Son, who shall to those who ' in darkness are,  
Rise, as the World's Sun does, with scattered Light,  
But Israel's Glory be, with Rays like ' his own Flames bright.     

Comiato.  
To Sir Nicholas Stuart, Baronet.  
SONGS, made in lieu of many more,  
(And more than Songs,) which to his Love I owe,  
Who, when your Master waited at the Door,  
First let him in, and sacred Honours did bestow;  
(You, blessed Songs, i'th' Temple first to sing,  
And then to Descant, on an humbler thing.)  
To his, and your loved Patron go,  
And though you ne'er can recompense  
The ease, and leisure both of us have thence,  
Proffer the utmost service Verse can do;  
And as He is your Ornament,  
Be of my grat'itude and his Virtue the fixed Monument.   

The VIII Great HYMNS of the Apocalypse.  

I. HYMN.  
The Adoration of the XXIV ELDERS.  Gratias agimus tibi Domine Deus Optime. 
Apoc. 11. 17.  

I.  
WORTHY Thou art all Honour to receive,  
Thrice Honoured we, who may that Honour give,  
Blessed King, who in One undivided now,  
The scattered Parts of Time collected, haste,  
The Future, Present, and the Past;  
And every Time and Age dost in one moment know.   

II.  
We praise Thee ', Almighty God, for that Thou thou hast ta'en  
To Thee thy great Power, and at length dost Reign▪  
Thou Reign'st, and though the Nations troubled are,  
Thy Wrath is come, and therewith come the Time,  
When Thou wilt sentence every Crime,  
And all the Dead shall for the Great Assize prepare.   

III.  
Up shall they rise; and as their Works have been,  
Or Shame, or Glory, on all Brows be seen;  
Thy Prophets, and Thy Saints shall shout for joy,  
And all who fear Thy Name, both small and great;  
But Vengeance, from Thy Judgement Seat,  
Th' Earth's bold Destroyer's shall eternally destroy.    

II. HYMN.  
The Acclamation of Heaven, upon MICHAEL's overthrow of the Dragon and his Angels.  Nunc facta est Salus & Virtus, 
Apoc. 12. 10.  etc. 

I.  
NOW is Salvation, now is come the Hour,  
That long expected, never shall be done;  
Now Reigns our God, with whom in equal Power,  
And strength Enthroned, sits his Anointed Son:  
They Reign and Judge, and having Judgement past,  
The brethren's great Accuser, o'er the Bar have cast.   

II.  
Both Night and Day the Brethren he accused,  
heavens common Barrettor, with Charge unjust;  
(Their Patience, and the Judges Grace abused)  
Tho from them the forged Calumny they thrust,  
And his false Evidence or'e-ruled, bore down,  
By the Lamb's Blood in Court attested, and their own.   

III.  
These were the Pleas whereby they overcame,  
And these the Witnesses called, and allowed;  
Which even the Devil their slanderer heard with shame,  
And self-condemned, to the just Sentence bowed:  
Greater their Word was than could be denied,  
But greater yet their Testimony, that they Died.   

IV.  
For this, OH heavens, rejoice, and ye who there  
In Sacred Bliss uninterrupted dwell,  
Rejoice, and a part with you let them bear,  
Who from below shall of your Justice tell!  
With joy shall Sing, how the Dragon overthrown,  
From heavens high-top to th' Earth was tumbled down.   

V.  
But woe worth you, to whom in wrath he's come,  
Of Earth and Sea the miserable ' outcast,  
On whom he'll seek to be avenged, the Doom  
Was on himself, and cursed Abettors past;  
With rage he comes, and whole Hell's last effort,  
Fury incensed, because he knows his time's but short.    

III. HYMN.  
The Happy Dead.  Beati mortui qui in Domino moriuntur. 
Apoc. 14. 13.  

I.  
BLESSED are the Dead who in the Lord depart,  
From henceforth Blessed write them down!  
For Labours tho, and Pain they have known,  
Of neither feel they more the irksome smart.   

II.  
So says the Spiried; for but to ' enjoy full rest,  
From all their Toils are they removed;  
And of their Works, by God approved,  
That follow close, in Bliss they are possessed.    

IV. HYMN.  
The Song of MOSES and of the LAMB.  Magna & Mirabilia sunt opera, 
Apoc. 15. 3.  etc. 

I.  
GREAT are thy Works, and marvellous thy Praise,  
Lord God Almighty, just and true Thy Ways,  
Blessed King of Saints; who would not fear  
In Thy dread Presence to appear,  
Whom Angels, and attending Thrones revere?   

II.  
Who would not Fear Thee, Lord, and Glorify  
That Name of Thine, which Thou hast raised so high!  
Thy Holy Name by which Thou art known,  
(For Holiness is Thine alone,)  
But better, than each single Man by ' his own.   

III.  
Take then, Blessed King, what is Thy proper due,  
And through all Land● and Coasts, Thy Right pursue!  
That every Coast and every Land,  
Who wondering at thy Judgements stand,  
May Worship Thee, and stoop to their Command.    

V. HYMN.  
The Angel of the Waters laud's.  Justus es Domine qui es & qui eras, 
Apoc. 16. 5.  etc. 

I.  
RIGHTEOUS art Thou, 
I. Angel.  O God, who art, and waste,  
And shalt be, when all time is past,  
The first who reignedst, and the last:  
Righteous art Thou, who hast this Day,  
Thy Kingdom's Justice to display,  
Righteously judged, that Blood shall Blood repay.   

II.  
Thy Servants Blood they without mercy shed,  
And to be ' avenged of th' happy Dead,  
Made by cursed hands the Living bleed:  
With big swollen Veins Thy Prophets stood,  
Each Saint, the Genius of his Flood,  
Poured from his opened Heart true streams of Blood.   

III.  
For Blood they thirsted; 
II. Angel.  and to drink have now  
Pure Blood, wherewith their Rivers flow:  
So worthy they, so Righteous Thou!  
Et andivi alterum dicentem, Etiam Domine.  
So Righteous Thou, so worthy they,  
Who did Thy Saints, and Prophets slay,  
For Blood to ' have Blood, and Blood in Blood repay.    

VI HYMN.  
The holy Company of Heaven rejoicing at the overthrow of BABYLON.  Alleluja. 
Apoc. 9 1.  Laus & Gloria & Virtus. 

I.  
HALLELUJAH! To our King,  
Honour, Power, and Glory sing:  
Laud and Worship to Him bring,  
True and Righteous are whose Ways;  
Both deserves, and has our Praise.   

II.  
True and Righteous is his Doom,  
For in Judgement overcome,  
Chained the great Whore stands, and Dumb▪  
Chained she stands, and Dumb withal,  
Without Friend, or Voice to call.   

III.  
Judged she is, who th' Earth did slain  
With her Prostituted Train:  
Justly judged to ' Eternal Pain,  
And avenged the Blood she shed,  
Dying ever, is never dead.  
Et dixerunt iterum Halleluja.   

IV.  
Hallelujah; to our King  
Worship, Laud, and Praises bring,  
Glory, Power, and Honour sing!  
Lo! how up her Smoke does rise,  
Who dead ever, never Dies!  
Ceciderúntque viginti quatuor Seniores, etc.  
& dixerunt Amen, etc.   

V.  
Even so, Lord, be it so!  
That the Earth Thy Power may know,  
And thence make Thy Praise to grow!  
One blessed Song with us may sing,  
Halleluja to our King!    

VII. HYMN.  
Epithalamium on the LAMB'S Marriage.  Et vox de Throno exivit dicens, 
Apoc. 19 5.  laudem dicite Deo, etc. 

I.  
PRAISE Him, ye Servants of th' Eternal King,  
To God your noblest Praises sing,  
And make heavens vault with the loud Echo ring!  
Praise Him, all ye, who fear his Name,  
And o'er th' Expanse his laud's proclaim;   

Both great and small in tuneful Shouts accord,  
And with one Heart and Voice adore our Lord!  Et audivi quasi vocem turbae magnae, & sicut vocem aquarum multaram & sicut vocem tonitruorum magnorum dicentium Alleluja! quoniam, etc.  

II.  
Hallelujah! Sing aloud!  
Louder still th' harmonious Voice,  
Till it drown a Thunder's Noise,  
And with gay Horror fill th' admiring Crowd!  
For (Lo!) our God Omnipotent does Reign,  
And to himself resumes the Rule again.   

III.  
Let us be glad now, and let us rejoice,  
And give him due Honour, who made us this Day;  
A Day that compensates for all our Annoys,  
And Ages that we for its Coming did pray:  
The Lamb's Marriage-day, which tho long ere it came,  
We meet, and greet thus with our Songs purest flame.   

IV.  
'Tis come, and does with hallowed Glory shine,  
So bright a Day in Heaven did ne'er appear,  
(Tho ever Day, and bright 'tis ever there)  
As this, illumined by the Sun Divine,  
And for ' his own Nuptials made with high Design.  
But yet how bright so ere it is,  
His Bride new Lustre to it gives,  
Who in her Glory waits Him, as He her in his.   

V.  
See, where She stands arrayed in Glorious wise,  
Second alone to Him, who ever lives:  
Above the boldest flight winged Seraph strives,  
Who ne'er such Beauties with Immortal Eyes,  
ere gazed on, save in Him whose is the Prize.  
For beside what's Her proper Dower,  
(Charms, which th' Almighty overcame)  
Heaven all its riches on Her Dress does pour.   

VI  
Choice of rich Garments has She thence, and store,  
(Presented from the Wardrobe of the Lamb)  
Of Gems that blaze with an Ethereal flame,  
Enough all but the Wearer to devour,  
And all but Heaven to apprise them find too poor:  
Choice of fine Linen, clean and bright,  
Beyond the skill of Mortal Art,  
Washed in the Lambs pure Blood, and there made White.   

VII.  
These are Her Robes, and these Her Lord's delight,  
(Who from His Presence ne'er will let Her part,  
But thus Arrayed, resigns to Her his Heart)  
The Righteousness of th' Saints, with sacred Light,  
Communicated from his own blessed Sight.  
Thrice happy they, thrice happy he!  
Who when their Mortal Life is done,  
The Bridgroom's Friends, to ' his Supper called shall be!   

L'envoy.  
Thrice happy I, my God, if I be one,  
One of the few, whom then Thou shalt invite!  
No matter how Thou shalt dispose of me,  
The meanest service Regal Honours does impart.    

VIII. HYMN.  
The Exultation of Heaven, at the Descent of the New JERUSALEM.  Et audivi magnam vocem de Throno dicentem, 
Apoc. 21. 5.  Ecce Tabernaculum Dei cum, etc. 

I.  
BLESSED state of Innocence,  
When out of his just Maker's Hand,  
The first Man came, with sacred influence,  
If what he might, he ' had kept the unh●ard Command!  
But happier far that state,  
To which he is restored, though late,  
By him, who, (made Man) Man did first Created!   

II.  
A greater Work this was,  
(As to redeem it more did cost,  
Than barely make;) the one by a Word did pass,  
His Life, the WORD to ' effect the other lost;  
But therewith did provide,  
What none could hope, or do beside,  
That they should th' happiest be, for whom he Died.   

III.  
Happy were both, but these  
By this the more, that when God went  
To Paradise, himself in ' his Works to please,  
And pleased to Heaven straight took his great Asecnt;  
A longer stay below,  
To make with his Redeemed now,  
heavens richest Grace he does on Earth bestow:   

IU.  
For now (behold!) his Tent  
With Man is pitched, and there He ' l dwell,  
Late to 〈◊〉, and I'm his Herald sent,  
〈…〉 News to the whole World to tell;  
〈…〉 God to Man comes down,  
〈◊〉 Man to dwell, as Man be known,  
Whose Form assumed, he keeps still joined to ' his own.   

V.  
With them He ' l dwell, and they  
His People, he their God will be;  
Not as of Old alone, but in a way  
Unthought, and of exalted Dignity:  
Where each Relations Band,  
By various Titles on each hand,  
Made Indissoluble, fast knit does stand.   

VI  
God from their Eyes all Tears  
Away shall wipe, they in his Praise  
Endless Eternity shall spend: No fears,  
No fighs more tempests in their Breasts shall raise:  
even Death shall be no more,  
Nor Sin, that to it opened the Door,  
Nor pain: for former things are all past o'er.   

VII.  
Past o'er they are, and gone,  
So says the Faithful and the True,  
The High, the Holy God, who from his Throne  
Pronounces thus, (Lo!) I make all things New!  
And thou to whom it's made known,  
O Man beloved, The words write down,  
Nor doubt; for he who does it, says, 'Tis done.     

Our Blessed Lord's Thanksgiving.  Confiteor tibi Pater Domine. 
Mat. 11. 25.  

I.  
I THANK Thee, Father, Lord of all,  
Of Heaven, and Earth the Blessed King,  
That to reveal Thy Discipline,  
The Prudent of this World Thou dost not call,  
The Mighty, Noble, and the Wise;  
But such, whom they, as Foolish, Base, and Weak despise.   

II.  
From those Thou hast Thy Counsels hid,  
Who first Thy Counsels did refuse;  
And Babes to publish them dost choose,  
That no Flesh take what Power Almighty did,  
And when Thy Hand alone hath done  
The weighty Enterprise, ascribe it to their own.   

III.  
even so, O Father, so it is!  
Thy Will, Thy Love do hence appear,  
And that great Power, which every where  
In all things Rules, but more in none than this;  
For so to Thee it seemeth good,  
Thy Grace should none withstand, but those who it withstood.    

The Song of MOSES.  — Tunc cecinit Moses, 
Exod. 15.  & Filii Israel carmen hoc Domino; & di●●runt, Cantemus Domino, etc. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 

I.  
SINCE the Almighty has in Triumph led,  
Not by c●r Battles, but his Arm ●'re-thrown,  
The Proud 〈◊〉 King, and from his Head,  
On ours to put it, 〈◊〉 Crown,  
What more accept●● Trophy can we raise,  
Than an eternal arch of Duty and of Praise?  
Begin, my Song and thou Immortal Verse,  
(Now truly such, since him Thou dost Record,  
Who only is th' Immortal Lord)  
I myself will begin too, and rehearse  
The wondrous Conquests of his Word:  
To him I'll Sing, who gloriously,  
His Promise, and his Ancient Faith to keep,  
Has gotten himself, and us the Victory,  
And Horse, and Rider hurled, at once, into the Deep.   

II.  
God is my Strength, and he shall be my Song,  
From whom my great Salvation came;  
Who is my God, approved in dangers long,  
My Father's God, the Puissant, and the Strong,  
Israel's tried Champion, and Jehovah is his Name.  
Him will I Sing, of him shall be my Praise,  
And of the Works, that he hath done;  
Th' Eternal Glories he hath won,  
But ours no less, than his own Fame to raise.  
For Pharaoh and his host,  
(Their way, their hopes, themselves i'th' Ruin lost)  
Into the Sea he hurled, the Red Sea, as a Stone  
By a Giant's arm is lightly thrown,  
Him and his chosen Captains at a cast.  
They flew; they sank; the wounded Sea did groan,  
But into its bottom headlong let them down,  
Through thousand Waves that murmured, as along they whirling past.   

III.  
There were they Drowned; there covered with the Deep;  
There sank they, never to be raised again;  
In Adamantine Chains Thou didst the Prisoners keep,  
The same Thou throwest before upon the Main,  
And now on them, o'er both to show Thy equal Reign.  
Glorious Thou didst that Day, O Lord, appear;  
Glorious in Power appeared then thy Right Hand;  
Thine Enemies the Shock could not withstand,  
And found too late its Wrath was heavier than their fear;  
When dashed in pieces they all scattered lay,  
And to th' Leviathans became a Prey.  
So on a sudden were they gone,  
So soon, so easily, by Thy Breath overthrown,  
As when a raging Fire does Stubble seize,  
And with it Thorns, to ' unequal Battle press.  
Such was Thy Wrath, though in a different kind,  
(And different was the Element,  
But Death as certain, and as sudden sent)  
Thy Wrath towards them, which like a mighty Wind  
Stood up and up the Floods bid stand,  
As on an heap to let Thy People go;  
The Floods obeyed the great Command,  
And like a Wall, on either Hand,  
Of congealed Crystal, in the heart of th' Sea did show.   

IV.  
This as the Spoiler saw," 'tis now, he said,  
" Now is the time an end to make;  
" I will pursue, I will o'ertake,  
" Lo! how the Sea the Fugitives has betrayed,  
" And, to leave us a way, it's dried up Channel does forsake!  
" Now shall my Sword with slaughter glutted be,  
" My Lust shall on them now be satisfied,  
" Nor till they ' are totally destroyed,  
" This Arm withdraw, or let them other Conquerors see;  
" With Charms their Leader stained the sacred Flood,  
" But I'll the Sea, or perish, new Dye with their Blood.  
Scarce said; Thou with Thy Wind  
Upon the parted Sea didst blow;  
The parted Sea its hold invisible let go,  
And hollowed to its fellow Waves behind.  
They came; and having traversed them around;  
The Chamiam Hosts did in their Arms enclose;  
A while they floated, diving where they rose,  
Till touching thrice the fatal Ground,  
Like Lead they sank, and all the Deaths they had threatened, found.   

V.  
Amongst the Gods, Who is there like the Lord?  
Or with Him, who can once compare?  
So ' unsearchable His Counsels are,  
So great the Wonders of His Word;  
In holy Glories, who does all excel,  
And Terror strikes in us, who would his Praises tell.  
For Thou thy Hand didst only wave,  
And Israel's way was Egypt's Grave,  
Which th' opening Earth, and Seas, conspiring gave.  
Thus perished they: Thus saved by Thy Right Hand,  
Thy ransomed People hitherto Thou thou hast brought;  
Whilst of the Miracles it wrought,  
We and our Children living Monuments here stand.  
Nations shall hear this, Lord, and be afraid;  
Horror on Palestine fast hold shall take;  
Courage the Dukes of Edom shall forsake:  
And Moabs' daring Warriors, ill apaid,  
Shall on themselves feel unknown Terrors laid:  
Whole Canaan ready to expire,  
With dread dissolved, as Wax shall melt before the Fire.   

VI  
Trembling and Fear, Anguish, Dispair, and Dread,  
On every Land shall fall, on every Head.  
As Thine Arm is, such shall their Horrors be,  
And not a Soul from the Consternation free.  
Close shall they lie within their Dens,  
Still as the Rocks, wherewith they are covered, lie;  
And fearful once to issue thence,  
Scarce to their helpless Gods send forth a cry,  
Or let their Groans be heard, while Israel passes by.  
Till to Thy Promised Land they are come,  
And, where they have been strangers long, their ancient Home.  
Thither, my God, through thousand dangers past,  
To Zion, by Thyself prepared to be  
Thy Dwelling Place to ' Eternity,  
The Sanctuary, with Thy Presence graced,  
Thither be pleased Thy purchased Flock to bring at last!  
So shalt Thou through all Ages Reign,  
And in all Lands new Subjects to Thy Empire gain.   Sumpsit ergo Maria Prophetissa soror A●rm tympanum in manu suâ: egressaeque sunt omnes Mulieres post eam cum tympanis, & choris, quibus praecinebat dicens. 

CHORUS Mulierum.  

SIng to the Lord, who gloriously,  
His Promise, and his Ancient Faith to keep,  
Has gotten Himself, and us the Victory,  
And Horse, and Rider hurled at once into the Deep!     

The WELL.  Num. 21. — Tune cecinit Israel Carmen istud. Ascendat Puteus! concinebat. Puteus quem soderunt Principes, & paraverunt duces multitudinis, in Datore legis, & in baculis suis. 

SACRED Fountain, Mystic Spring,  
Lo! how to Thy Dance we Sing,  
And Cymbals tuned by thy soft Purl ring!  
Spring eternally, O Well,  
Spring up, and into Rivers swell!   

For why, no common Well art Thou,  
Nor was it chance first found Thee out;  
But having for Thee searched about,  
To Princes Thou thy rise dost owe,  
Who digged Thee first, and made Thee flow.   

Spring, happy Well, by Princes made,  
Without or Mattocks help, or Spade,  
(The ill-boding Instruments of Graves)  
But digged by Princes, with their Staves,  
And by their Lawgiver surveyed!   

'Twas He to th' Work those Worthies sent;  
Spring Well, and teach his great Intent,  
And what He by the Mystery meant!  
" That as to all Thy Wate●●●ow,  
" So should their equal Justice do.   

Sacred Fountain, Mysric Spring,  
Lo! how to Thy Dance we Sing,  
And Cymbals tuned by Thy soft purl Ring!  
Spring Eternally, O Well,  
Spring up, and into Rivers swell!    

The Prayer of JABEZ.  — Invocavit autem Jabez Deum Israel, 
II. Part. 4.  dicens. Si benedicens benedixeris mihi, & dilataveris terminos meos, & fuerit manus tua mecum, & feceris me à malitia non opprimi!— Et praestit●● Deus quae precatus est. 

I.  
THUS Jabez prayed, and thus pray I;  
Great God, O, that it might Thee please,  
Thy Servant, who upon Thee does rely,  
With Thy choice Favours, and indeed to bless!  
'tis Prayer alone can this obtain,  
And, but to Thee, even Prayer is vain.   

II.  
Enlarge those Coasts, wherein I dwell,  
Nor let me ever live retired;  
But in Thy CHURCH those mighty Wonders tell,  
Which have my Verse with Heavenly Flame inspired:  
Lord to my House Thy Love secure,  
And let it, like Thy Word, endure!   

III.  
Yet not for Greatness do I pray,  
Nor, ere Thy Time is, to be known▪  
But do Thy Will, I can its Pleasure stay,  
Waiting that Harvest, for which Thou hast sown:  
Only till then, make me content,  
And leave to Thee th' whole Management!   

IV.  
Thou knowst I do Thy Temple love,  
I know there's time enough behind;  
Why should I make th' Enjoyment bitter prove,  
By hasting, what I'm sure Thou hast designed?  
In hope at present, I rejoice,  
And both my Heart employ and Voice.   

V.  
For what concerns my poor estate,  
Since I to Thee my All commit;  
No time, when e'er it falls, shall be too late,  
To soon it may, if I encumber it  
With Wishes, that unlawful be,  
And, vain affects, which move not Thee:   

VI.  
No! I'll never think the time too long,  
How long so ere the time may be;  
Let but Thy Hand, through Patience make me strong,  
And keep off Evil from disturbing me!  
If Jabez thus to Thee did cry,  
And could be heard, Lord, why not I?   
Haec Sacrorum Ordinum desiderio raptus, mihimet ipsi meus Vates, cecini, III Nonas Decemb. M. DC.LX.VII. In quos post multas hujusce vitae varietates, mediâ & maturâ aetate, ab aerumnosis saeculi curis, & otio (neutiqam licet ignobili) hoc juxta Vaticinium, biennio post redemptus fui XIV. Kalend. Januar. Per Reverendum admodùm in Christo Patrem & Dominum Dominum GEORGIUM Episcopum Wintoniensem, cujus R. R. Paternitati hîc, impares licet tanto Beneficio, grates, quas tamen Divino Numini imprimis debeo, secundas saltem, ex toto animo in conspectu Populi & Ecclesiae refero.— Manda Deus virtuti & confirma quod operatus es a Templo Sancto tuo!   

Ode.  
The Song of DEBORAH.  Cecineruntque Deborah & Barac filius Abinoem in illo die, 
Judic. 5.  dicentes.— Qui sponte obtulistis de Israel, etc. 

I.  
ISRAEL, the blessed and happy State,  
For whom th' Almighty all his Wonders showed;  
Israel, your great Redeemer celebrate,  
And what for you he did, rehearse aloud!  
Tell, how he made his ●and and appear,  
And when the willing Tribes their Youth an Offering sent,  
How God before the Sacred Army went,  
And vengeful Ruin followed in the Rear!  
And ye, O Kings, (whose awful Sway  
The manyheaded Multitude obey,  
And at whose feet they both their Necks and Tributes lay;)  
Princes' and Rulers, to my Song attend,  
Whose lofty Subject challenges your Ear,  
By all that can a Verse commend,  
Or greatest Kings persuade to hear,  
A tuneful Voice, with Charms divinely strong,  
A Woman begs your audience now;  
And if that will not do,  
Deb'rah a Judge in Israel sings, and Israel's God's the Song.   

II.  Domine cum exires de Seir. 
Lord, out of Seir, when Thou didst go,  
Marching the Hill, before Thine Host adown,  
When Thou mad'st Edom's Fields Thy Conquests know,  
And with Armed Troops the Wilderness didst crown;  
Affrighted Earth did at Thy Presence quake,  
heavens labo'ring Machin did the Warning take,  
And from its torn sides dreary Tempests shake.  
It thundered, and down fell from Heavens high Tower,  
Of Stones and scalding Rain a mighty shower;  
With Darkness all the Sky was covered o'er,  
Through which the blew-winged Lightning flew,  
And after it a trail of kindled Brimstone drew.  
It struck the Rocks, and they took fire;  
The Mountains with excessive heat did melt,  
Unusual scorching Sinai felt;  
And though than other Hills exalted higher,  
Tho with its head it did to th' Clouds aspire,  
Sinai nor could resist, nor bear the Flame,  
But down in a burning Torrent headlong came.   

III.  In diebus Samgar, etc. 
Samgar and Jahel wondrous Saviour's were,  
And did in Counsel and in Arms excel;  
Of Jahels' Prudence we the Trophies are,  
Six hundred Philistims by Samgar fell,  
All with an Ox-goad slain, and driven like Beasts to ●ell▪  
But yet the Roads untrodden lay,  
Scared Passengers through Woods did stray,  
And but to Dens & Caves led not the Mountainous highway.  
Woods, and thick Bushes in all Pastures grew,  
The Ploughman, and his Labour ceased,  
The Land as Cursed enjoyed its rest,  
And not each Seventh alone, but every Year a Sabbath knew.  
It rested, till I Deborah rose at last,  
At last in Israel I a Mother rose,  
Then when new Gods the People chose,  
And from Rebellion to Idolatry had past.  
But see the Vengeance that pursued their Sin,  
Slavery and Cowardice at the Breach rushed in,  
And not a Shield, or Spear was found midst forty thousand Men.   

IV.  Cor meum diligit Principes, etc. 
Fly, fly, my Muse, from this unmanly race,  
And to new Pomps thy strains address;  
Israel's great Generals, who to efface  
Of all our foregone Miseries the very trace,  
Courageously did to the Battle press,  
And, where in Irons we lay, with Laurels strewed the place.  
With them my Heart, with them my Praise shall be.  
And ye, O Fathers, who at Home reside,  
And you, who equal Justice to dispense,  
Unguarded to your peaceful Cities ride,  
And Justice done, return unguarded thence;  
Judges, and People by their arms set free,  
Come in and join with me,  
And let us bless the Lord, as we their Spoils divide!  
Come let us bless Him, and proclaim  
The Wonders of his Reverend Name;  
There, whence we exiled were of late,  
And at our Fountains first begin,  
Where we so oft have rescued been,  
Scaping the Death we saw upon the Wing;  
Our Fountains tuneful numbers will inspire,  
And by their purling falls direct the Choir,  
Which well tuned there, we may advance in state,  
And bring with Harps and Songs our Praises to the City Gate.   

V.  Surge, surge Deborah, surge, etc. 
Awake, O Deborah, awake,  
And from this hint fresh vigour take!  
Encourage, and provoke Thy Lyre,  
Till all its speaking Chords conspire,  
And with Thy Voice a perfect Concert make!  
Up Barak, at th' harmonious Sound,  
Abinoams warlike S●n arise!  
Lo! Thy Captivity stands in Fetters bound,  
To be Thy valours early Prize,  
And dreadfully adorn Thy entrance with its Exequys!  
Led on, Great Prince, by God ordained  
To be Thy Nation's Glory, and this Days;  
Who hast Thyself the heat of th' War sustained;  
Tho Women with Thee share divided Praise!  
And all the while Thou dost the sacred Mount ascend,  
Boldly Thy Ransomed People's shouts attend,  
The Bays Thou wearest will Thy Head defend!  
Yea, speak Thyself, how God made Thee,  
The Captain of his Armies be;  
And when retired Thou long hadst lain at Home,  
How forth he called Thee to o'ercome:  
The strange deliv'erance by Thy Hands he wrought,  
And how to mine he Judgement gave;  
And let the Tribes, which with us fought,  
A just Memorial in our Triumphs have!   

VI  Ex Ephraim delevit eos. 
Place Ephraim here, Ephraim whose Fortitude  
In Amaleks first overthrow was tried,  
When stoutly he th' Uncircumcised defied,  
And with unerring Shafts their flying Troops pursued.  
Benjamin, with his Squadron followed close,  
And his scorned Life more nobly to expose,  
The Tribe, he dearest loved, for witness of his Courage, chose,  
From Machir Princes to the Battle came,  
And Counsellors from Zabulon,  
Who to increase the glory of their Name,  
Kept by the Sword, what by the Pen they won.  
Then Issachar and Napthali,  
By Deborah that, and this by Barak led,  
Both valiant Tribes, and both resolved to die,  
Or conquer with so brave an Head.  
But had you seen the Emulation there,  
And how they strove each other to outfight;  
You would have thought them armed with Heavenly Might,  
And (all so terrible they did appear  
Such Trophies of Mailed Corpse did round them rear,)  
That every Isra●elite a destroying Angel were.   

VII.  Diviso contra se Reuben. 
Reuben the while did with his Flocks abide,  
And blest the Flood, whose streams the parted Land divide.  
Careless of what his Brethr'en thought,  
And what the fears his cold indiffernce wrought;  
Strange and distracted fears his cold indifference brought.  
But why, O Reuben, why didst thou refuse  
An Enterprise so great and good?  
Was it to hear thy bleating Ewes;  
Or could thy Honour be so little understood,  
That their plain Fleeces thou shouldst choose,  
Before a Robe died Purple, in thine Enemy's blood?  
This cold indifference, Reuben, lost thee more,  
Than ever thou in Arms hadst gained before.  
Ah! hadst thou been alone! but far behind,  
By thy example, Gilead stayed;  
On Shipboard Dan drove on his Trade,  
And Asser, that he might be signally unkind.  
Tho of pale Death too Womanly afraid,  
Rather than yield his aid,  
Watched on his naked Beaches, torn with Seas and Wind.  
Unlike to Zabulon, and Nepthali,  
Who best knew how to Live, yet feared the least to Die.   

VIII.  Zabulon vero & Nepthali, etc. 
Thither, my Song, behold their Ensigns spread  
On the High-places, and how equally endued  
With Learning, and with Conduct too, they showed,  
That never friendlier those best gifts inhabited,  
And softer thoughts designs more noble bred.  
The Cananitish Kings approached the Hill,  
Tabor, by their defeat to be renowned,  
But fearful to ascend its top, did fill  
The Plains of Tanaach, with their Camps around,  
And loud Megiddos' Waters with their shoutings drowned.  
They came, and fought, but Heaven, that took our part,  
Bore the first shock, and on them turned the War;  
A mortal shaft was sent from every Star,  
Which sank like Lead, into the Spoilers Heart.  
No Gain or Pay, the Sacred Legions took,  
But to the Service armed, in Diamond marched on,  
And, whom they spared, Kison, that ancient Brook,  
Kison in its swollen Torrent carried down.  
In vain the Horse assayed the Flood to stem,  
Which hurled their Riders with them down the rapid stream.   

IX.  Conculca Anima mea robustos. 
Enough, my Soul, enough, the chase give o'er!  
Those Enemies thou hast seen, thou shalt behold no more.  
Stop, for at length the War is done,  
And thou in Blood, I know, tak'st no delight!  
Sound a Retreat, the Day's thine own,  
And so shall Sisera too, ere Night,  
Finding the Death he'd shun by an inglorious flight.  
But first confirm a Curse was laid  
By our God's Angel, and a Charge divine,  
" Curse ye Meros', the Angel said!  
" Curse Meros' bitterly, and join  
Yours to Jehovah's Curse and mine!  
Curse all, who dwell there, and be this their Doom,  
Who like them to th' Almighty's standard will not come!  
But blessed above Women be,  
Israel's and Heber's Ornament,  
Jabel above all Women blest i'th' Tent.  
And let this Song preserve her Memory!  
Never was greater Name  
Recorded, i'th' Eternal Monuments of Fame.   

X.  Aquam petenti lac dedit. 
To her on foot Sisa'ra his flight addressed:  
The courteous Wife to meet him went:  
The courteous Wife invited him into her Tent,  
And future Joys with thoughtful Cares suppressed.  
He asked her Water, and she ran in haste,  
To execute her own, and to prevent his Wish,  
And poured him Milk into a Royal Dish:  
(A ready and a quick repast.)  
And having give'n the fatal Bait,  
Humbly at his Feet did wait,  
And smiled to see how greedily he drank and slept his last.  
" Sleep, Tyrant, sleep she said!  
And up a Nail and Hammer took,  
The Nail into his Temples struck,  
And with his own unbloody Sword smote off his Head.  
He bowed, he fell, and at her Feet he lay,  
Down at her Feet he bowed, fell, groaned his Soul away,  
Where he bowed, there he fell down dead.   

XI.  Per fenestram respiciens. 
Out at a Window his blithe Mother gazed,  
And waiting there his coming, cried,  
" Why lies the Dust so long unraised,  
" Nor Sisara yet, with Captives by his side,  
" Exalted high in his triumphal Chariot ride?  
Her Ladies answered her, Those Ora'cles of the Court,  
Yea, to herself she made her own report.  
" Have they not sped, have they not gained the Day,  
" Have they not shared the Israelitish Prey?  
" To every Man a Dame, or two,  
" To Sisara as the General's due,  
" Choice of rich Slaves, and choice of Garments too?  
" A curious Vest, with Needles wrought,  
" With curious Needles wrought on either side,  
" And all in Royal Colours died,  
" By th' Hebrews of their Neighbour Tyrians bought;  
" And only sit the Victor's bloody arms to hide?   

So, Lord, may all Thine Enemies die,  
So Conquer, and be Conquered so;  
When such, as on Thy Power rely,  
In Heaven alone their equals know,  
And like the Sun, which triumphs there,  
Crowned with illustrious Beams, and robeed in Light appear.    

Comiato.  
To the Reverend the now Dr. James Gardiner Subdean of Lincoln.  
SONG, in the Country little understood,  
For my dear Gardener, at the Town inquire,  
And all thy heat into his generous Breast inspire,  
To mingle with a nobler Fire,  
Which lies at present smouldering in his Blood!  
Perchance thou may'st effectual prove,  
To make that upward, towards its Centre, move,  
And him in softest lays rehearse the HOLIEST LOVE.  
1668.   

David's ELEGY Upon the death of SAUL and JONATHAN.  2 Sam. 1. Considera Israel pro hiis, qui mortui. 

I.  
ISRAEL'S delight, the glory of our Land,  
How are the Mighty overthrown!  
Before their Enemy's Swords they could not stand,  
Nor conquered fall by any but their own:  
In Thy High-places Israel, both did fall,  
A public Victim for their Land, in view of all.   

II.  
Let not in Gath the mournful News be known,  
Nor in Philistia publish it;  
Stop the Report, ere it reach Ascalon,  
Nor let our Captive names their Arches fit:  
Lest fearful Women, whom they left at Home,  
With Songs to share the Spoil, and meet their Triumph come!   

III.  
And ye, Gilboas Mounts, may never Rain,  
Or fertile Showers descend on you;  
But on your Heads let there abide that stain,  
Which Seas, should they pour down, would but renew▪  
Let the cursed Earth no more an Offering yield,  
Nor God expect his First-fruits from the empty Field.   

IV.  
'Twas there the valiant Saul resigned his Breath,  
And there his Shield was thrown away;  
Never was such a Trophy reared to Death,  
Nor ever sacred arms so scattered lay:  
The valiant Saul's, as if he ne'er had been  
The Lord's Anointed, or his Chosen Peoples King.   

V.  
From the pursuit the Bow of Jonathan,  
Some Regal Spoil, did daily bring;  
Destruction after his fleet arrows ran,  
And at the Wounds they made, Death entered in▪  
The Sword of Saul did never empty come,  
But a new Purple, from the Blood of Kings, brought home.   

VI  
Alike in Life, in Death alike they were,  
Not more in Blood allied, than Mind;  
Themselves alone, you with them could compare,  
Who none their equals saw, or left behind:  
And on their arms there hung such Victory,  
That Men they only seemed, because they both could die.   

VII.  
For as the Eagle, to her Prey does haste,  
And hover o'er the Quarry flies;  
Or the fierce Lion, having once a taste  
Of Blood, does all the Shepherd's noise despise,  
And at their Slings no show of fear does make;  
Like Lions they o'ercome, like Eagles did o'ertake.   

VIII.  
And you, O Daughters of so great a King,  
(Our Tribes support) his Death lament,  
Whose Victories you before were wont to Sing,  
And clad in Scarlet to adorn them, went:  
Now put on Mourning, to attend his Hearse,  
Sad as your own complaints, and mournful as my Verse.   

IX.  
For (Lo!) the Glories of our State, and Land,  
(Lo!) how the Mighty are overthrown;  
Before their Enemy's Swords, they could not stand,  
Tho Saul by none could perish, but his own:  
In thy High-places, Jonathan, thou didst fall,  
A public Victim, where thou shouldst have reigned o'er all.   

X.  
For thee, my Brother, 'tis for thee I grieve,  
The best of Friends, as well as Men;  
In whose Death I that fatal Wound receive,  
Which closed will ne'er be, till we meet again;  
And in the Mansions of the Saints above,  
Enjoy, what here we vowed, our more than mortal love.   

XI.  
Israel's Delight, the Glory of our Land,  
How are the Mighty overthrown!  
Before his Enemy's Sword one could not stand,  
Nor th' other fall by any but his own:  
In thy High-places, Israel, both did fall,  
A public Victim for their Land, in view of all.    

DAVID's thanksgiving and Prayer.  
2 Sam. 7. — Ingressus est autem Rex David & sedit coram Domino, & dixit, Quis ego sum Domine & quae? 

I.  
WHO am I Lord, and what's my Family,  
The youngest House of the Jessean Race, 
1 Paral. 17.   
In all things little, but that Grace,  
Which Thou on us hast shoured, but most on me?  
Who am I, that Thou hitherto  
Hast brought me, Lord, Thy Bounty and Thy Power to show?   

II.  
Hitherto Thou hast brought me, and that Hand,  
Which for a Sling, and Sheephook was designed;  
A nobler Service is enjoined,  
And Men, instead of Flocks, are my command:  
Israel the Flock, and care Divine,  
And my exalted Name does midst rich Trophies shine.   

III.  
Like the great men's of th' Earth, Thou thou hast made my Name,  
And yet (as if all this were not enough,  
And thousand Pledges more of Love,  
But the foundation only of that Frame,  
Thou in Thy mind hadst cast to raise)  
Of future Glories Thou foretellest, and growing Praise.   

IV.  
Of Times to come Thou thou hast told, long hence to come,  
And that my House, and Throne upheld shall be;  
Like a Prince born, Thou thou hast treated me,  
As having, what Thou thou art making for me room;  
And are Men, Lord, thus wont to do,  
Who rather than exalt the Poor, will keep them low?   

V.  
Yet thus Thou thou hast done, and what can I say more,  
Or greater, for Thy Honour, Lord, or mine,  
Which both here equal issues join,  
That all, who th' Work admire, may Thee adore?  
Greater I'd say, Thou know'st full well,  
And more, but what I know not, how I cannot tell.   

VI  
Unless I add, that for Thy great Words sake  
Thou didst it, that Thou mightst at once fulfil  
The secret Counsels of Thy Will,  
And, what they were, known to Thy People make:  
For Thine own sake, my God, and mine,  
For Thou thy Servant know'st, and that his will is Thine.   

VII.  
Great art Thou, Lord, and wondrous are Thy Ways,  
The best and greatest, the only God alone;  
Beside, or like whom, there is none,  
Glorious in Holiness, fearful in Praise:  
Thus sing we, who did first receive  
The Truth from our Forefathers, but seeing, now believe.   

VIII.  
For what one Nation, as from them of Old  
We ' have often heard, with Israel can compare?  
For whom Himself God did not spare,  
But came from Heaven in Person to behold  
The Mise'ries they did undergo,  
And not to see alone, but to Revenge them too?   

IX.  
From Heaven he came, from Heaven himself came down  
All clothed in Tempest, and sulphureous Flame,  
To get Himself the greater Name,  
And do, what by His Word He might have done:  
That thus from Egypt's Gods set free,  
Himself he might declare His People's God to be.   

X.  
This our Forefathers told us; but we ' have seen  
Ourselves as mighty Wonders of Thy Love;  
Nor need we fetch from them our Proof,  
Who ' ourselves as mighty Wonders oft have been:  
Confirmed by Thy after vast expense,  
(And more's to come) to be Thy great Inheritance.   

XI.  
And now, my God, the Word, which Thou hast said,  
Th' irrevocable Word concerning me,  
Let it for ever established be!  
And established be that House, which Thou hast made!  
Thy Servant David, thus approved,  
Establish with his House, nor let them be removed.   

XII.  
So shall Thy Word and Name be ever praised;  
" And Israel's Holy God, shall Israel sing,  
" Is God alone, and Israel's King:  
" He His Anointeds' Horn on high has raised,  
" Of David, and his House approved,  
" David and ' his House established ne'er to be removed.   

XIII.  
Not that I'm worthy, Thou shouldst hear my Vows,  
Only Thyself was pleased the Word to pass;  
Lord, since I ' have with Thee found this Grace,  
To be assured Thou It build Thy Servants House,  
Another Grace turn not away,  
Which in my Heart I since have found, even thus to pray.   

XIV.  
Thy Promise 'tis this holy boldness gives,  
That Word of Thine, which like Thyself is sure,  
And through all Ages shall endure,  
True, as its Speaker, who for ever Lives:  
The God of Truth, who cannot Lie,  
Nor his own Goodness, promised thus to his Child, deny.   

XV.  
Please it Thee therefore, may it please Thee, Lord,  
Thy Servant, and Thy Servants House to bless,  
With Blessings that may never cease;  
Blessings, as fixed as Thy Eternal Word,  
For Thou, my God, canst bless alone,  
Thus bless; and once thus blessing me indeed, I ' have done.    

The last words of DAVID.  Dixit David filius Isai, 
2 Sam. 23.  dixit vir, etc. 
Terzetti.  
THUS David, Jesse's Royal Son did sing,  
Thus spoke the Man, who the great Promise had,  
That from his Loins the CHRIST of God should spring.  
On whose Eternal Shoulders should be laid  
The Government, Psalmist of Israel,  
Thus sang he, thus from Heaven inspired he said:  
The Spirit of God in Vision on me fell,  
And by my Mouth Himself th' Almighty spoke,  
His Words they are, which I his Prophet tell,  
His, who the Care of Israel does take,  
And hitherto ne'er falsified His Trust,  
Nor will, though Heaven and Earth's Foundations shake.  
" The Man, who rules o'er others must be Just,  
" Ruling himself, and them, i'th' sacred Fear  
" Of heavens dread King, to whom account he must;  
" For all the wrongs he does, or makes them bear;  
" By an Impartial Judgement to be tried,  
" Whose Doom definitive he forced shall hear.  
Thrice happy Prince, who (ere that Oyes cried,)  
The God within his Breast, his Conscience,  
Appealing, and appealed has satisfied!  
There, first absolved, with approved Innocence,  
His Righteousness shall shine, as Morning Light,  
When th' early Sun, his Glories to dispense,  
New guilds the Sullies of the murky Night;  
And without Cloud between his Beams to pass,  
As higher he ascends, appears more bright.  
So shall he shine; or as the tender Grass,  
Shooting its verdant Head above the Ground,  
With gems of pearly Dew, midst Flowers, takes place.  
This I'll not say, that in my Rule I've found,  
A perfect and uninterrupted Bliss,  
(For what's my House, or Rule thus to be owned?)  
Yet for my Kingdom's Justice I'll say this,  
That with me God a lasting Cove'nant made,  
In all things sure, as His great promise is:  
Ordered and sure, nor e'er to be o●resway'd,  
Tho I too oft have forfeited His Love,  
And when I should have ruled, my Lusts obeyed.  
But even then did I, and do now reprove  
The Follies I so passionately pursued,  
And whose remembrance greater Passions move.  
Blessed God forgive me! be Thy Word renewed!  
For all before Thee is my whole desire,  
All in Thy sight, as it by me is viewed;  
Confirm Thy Promise, humbly I require,  
Not for my sake, O Lord, but for Thine own;  
And double Zeal into my Son inspire!  
So shall he grow up as a Plant alone,  
And in his Fame, though dead, I too shall grow,  
The happy Father of an happier Son:  
Whilst those, who will not to his Sceptre bow,  
As Thorns shall all of them be thrust away,  
Thorns, which th' unguarded Hand though they pierce through,  
To th' Hook and Fire shall be an easy Prey:  
Justice, which in his time from th' Earth shall spring,  
And Peace, from Heaven descending, meet half way.   

The Song of HEZEKIAH.  Ego dixi in dimidio dierum meorum. 
Isa. 38.  

I.  
REVOLVING the sharp Sentence past,  
And how an end, ere thought was on me come;  
How soon, said I, have I approached my last,  
And unawares reached Nature's farthest Home?  
Ah! now I to the Grave must go,  
No more, or Life, or Pleasure know,  
But a long doleful Night, in darkness deep below.   

II.  
No more, my God, shall I see Thee,  
Nor the great Works of Thy Almighty Hand;  
No more a Votary at Thy Altar be,  
Nor in the crowds of them, who praise Thee, stand▪  
Mankind no more shall I behold,  
Nor tell, nor of Thy Love be told,  
even mine to Thee, shall like my ashes, Lord, be cold.   

III.  
Lo! as a Tent am I removed,  
And my lives thread, which I thought wondrous strong,  
Too weak to bear the Looms extension proved,  
Ith' midst broke off, too sleazy to run long:  
With Sickness I am pineed away,  
And feel each moment some decay,  
All Night in Terrors, and in Grief die all the Day.   

IV.  
For as a Lion hasts to ' his Prey,  
And havieg gripeed it, breaks the yielding Bones;  
So on me came th' Almighty, whilst I lay  
In vain expecting help, but from my Groans:  
O take, said I, Thy Hand away,  
See how I feel my Loins decay,  
All Night in Terrors, and in Grief die all the Day!   

V.  
Then like a Swallow, or a Crane,  
I chatt'red o'er my Fears, his Heart to move;  
The widowed Turtle does not more complain,  
When in the Woods she ' has lost her faithful Love:  
My Eyes, O God, with waiting fail,  
Why shouldst Thou thus a Worm assail?  
I'm Thine, O let for once th' Almighty not prevail!   

VI  
Yet do Thy Will, I must confess,  
Worse Plagues than these, my Sins deserve from Thee;  
The Sentence past is than my Crimes far less,  
And only Hell a fit reward can be:  
Ah! let my Prayers that Doom prevent!  
My age in Mournings shall be spent,  
And all the Years Thou giv'st, shall be, but to repent.   

VII.  
On Thy great Pleasure all depend,  
During which only, I and Mankind live;  
To teach us this Thou dost Diseases send,  
And daily claimest the Life, which Thou didst give:  
Yet such is Thy resistless Power,  
That when our age is quite past o'er,  
What Thou at first didst give, Thou canst our Life restore.   

VIII.  
And thus with me, Lord, hast Thou dealt,  
Tho I for peace had only bitterness;  
Th' effects of mighty Goodness thus have felt,  
Beyond what words, or numbers can express:  
For from the Pit Thou drewest me back,  
And that I might no pleasures lack,  
Upon Thyself the burden of my Sins didst take.   

IX.  
Triumphant Saviour! the still Grave,  
For so great Love, Thy Name can never praise;  
Nor in the Pit canst Thou Memorial have,  
Thy Truth, or hoped for, or adored Thy Ways:  
The Living, Lord, the Living are  
The Men, who must Thy Power declare,  
And of them chiefly such, whom Thou like me, shalt spare.   

X.  
They to their Children shall make known,  
As I do now, the Wonders of Thy Hand;  
How when we even to Hell did headlong run,  
To stop our passage, Thou i'th' way didst stand:  
Lord, since Thou thou hast thus delivered me,  
Thus made me Thy Salvation see,  
My Life, and Harp, and Song, I'll consecrate to Thee.   
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 III. ID. NOV. 1667.   

Three Psalms according to the old Version, and Meeter, ordinarily used in Churches, a little altered.  

PSAL. I.  Beatus Vir qui non abiit. 

THE Man is blest, whose doubtful Paths  
Unruled by Sinners are;  
Who in their Council never stood,  
Nor sat i'th' Scorners Chair.  
But in the Law of God the Lord  
Hath fixed his whole delight;  
And in that Law does exercise  
Himself both Day and Night.   

He shall be like a Tree, which grows  
Close by the River's side;  
Whose loaded Boughs in Fruits return  
Their Tribute to the Tide.  
No Storm or Drought shall make him fade,  
But he unmoved shall stand;  
Nor shall Success less prosperous crown,  
What e'er he takes in hand.   

No so the Wicked, who as Chaff  
By Tempests raised on high,  
The triumph of fierce Winds are made,  
And as they drive them, flie.  
Unlike in Life, unlike shall be  
The ends which on them wait;  
Whilst these in Judgement cannot stand,  
And those are praised i'th' Gate.  
For why the ways of Righteous Men  
Unto the Lord are known:  
But Sinners ways, hid to themselves,  
Unto the Dead lead down.    

PSAL. LVII.  Miserere mei, Deus miserere. 

GREAT God, on whom I have relied,  
Whose Mercy is my stay;  
Under Thy Wings, or let me hide,  
Or on them fly away!  
Or hide, or fly, until the Storm  
Which threatens me is past;  
Thou all things for me dost perform,  
In Thee my hope is placed.   

To God I'll cry, who shall descend  
From Heaven, i'th' Fight to close,  
And while his Love does me defend  
His Truth shall slay my Foes.  
With Lions, Lord, my Soul lies down,  
shut up within their Den;  
Lions so fierce were never known,  
Cruel, and bloody Men.   

Whose Tongues are Swords, and Eyes all Fire,  
With gore and slaughter Red;  
And who against me all conspire,  
To look, or speak me Dead.  
Yet set Thy Glory ' above the Skies,  
O'er th' Earth exalted be;  
For though so high I cannot rise,  
Thou mayst stoop down to me   

Thou didst so, for as I looked round,  
Pensive and full of care;  
My prostrate Enemies strewed the Ground,  
Each ta'en in his own Snare.  
Fixed is my Heart to sing Thy Praise,  
'tis fixed, and I'll rejoice;  
Awake my Harp, and with Thee raise,  
To Heaven my tuneful Voice!   

I will awake too, and my Song  
To th' Nations shall rehearse  
Mercies, whose Praise to Heaven belong,  
Worthy an Angel's Verse.  
Lord, set Thy Glory ' above the Skies,  
O'er the Earth exalted be!  
Lo, how thy Son does thither rise,  
Lift from the Grave by Thee!   
Turned and Transcribed with the following Psalm, for an Hymn upon Easter-day, 1671.   

PSAL. CXIV.  In exitu Israel de, etc. 

WHEN Israel was by God's address,  
And his Almighty Hand,  
From Bondage led, and wondrously  
Brought to the Promised Land;  
In Judah God his Glory showed,  
And did his Power declare;  
Israel his great Inheritance,  
Temple and Empire were.   

The Sea it saw and suddenly  
Amazed rose up and fled;  
The parted streams of Jordan's Flood  
Ran trembling to their Head.  
Aside the Mountains leapt like Rams,  
And to the Hills did show,  
(The Hills, which shook like frighted Lambs)  
The way which they should go.   

What ailed the Sea that all amazed  
So suddenly it fled?  
And what made jordan's parted streams  
Run trembling to their Head?  
Why did the Mountains leap, like Rams,  
And to the Hills first show,  
(The Hills, which shook like frighted Lambs)  
The way which they should go?   

Confess, O Earth, thy Sovereign Lord,  
And at his Presence quake!  
Before the Face of Jacob's God  
Bow, and Obeisance make!  
'Tis he, who caused those Rocks to hear,  
And when Thy Springs are dry,  
Can from their flinty Bowels fetch  
Streams, which shall never die.    

PSAL. CLI.  According to the LXXII.— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. etc. 

I.  
YOUNGEST of all my Brethren, and the least  
In the Jessean House, to ' a Service I inclined,  
Which both my Age, and Innocence suited best,  
And best the Throne, to which I was designed:  
My Father's Flock, was early set to keep,  
And how to govern Men, first learn among my Sheep.   

II.  
I kept and fed them with a pious care,  
And as they fed, my Harp, and Pipe assayed;  
Them, and myself to please, did Songs prepare,  
And variously, as pensive Shepherd, played:  
Till having wearied out an humbler String,  
A bolder flight I dareed, Israel's Great God to Sing.   

III.  
But who such Praise can worthily rehearse?  
I strove my best, and it acceptance found,  
With heavens Blessed King, who to approve my Verse,  
A double Glory round my Temples bound;  
By ' his Prophets Hand there placed the Regal Crown,  
(From the Flock calling me) the Poet's with his own.   

IV.  
I many Brethren had, and great of Might,  
All valiant Men, and all renowned in War,  
Oft tried, but God in them took no delight,  
For Causes, though from us removed far,  
To ' himself best known, who sees not as Man sees,  
But as the Heart is, judges, and giveth Dignities.   

V.  
For that, and his own Pleasure He chose me,  
And having chosen, called me forth to fight  
With Raphas' Giant-son, whose blasphemy  
Levelled at Heaven, on his own Head did light:  
By ' his Gods he cursed me, and his Gods he cursed,  
Himself as the chief God propitiating thus first.   

VI  
But such curse Proof, I out against him went,  
The firmlier armed, as he disarmed thereby;  
And certain Death into his Forehead sent,  
ere he the place could guard, or turn to fly:  
He fell: I ran, to th' lifeless Monster came,  
From him with's own Sword took his Head, from Israel shame.     

Job cursing his Birth.  After this opened Job his Mouth and cursed his Day: And Job spoke and said. Pereat dies in qua natus sum. 

MAY the Day perish, and it's hastily flight  
Be still, be still retarded by a sluggish Night!  
The Day, unhappy Day, whereon 'twas known,  
My Mother could that name, and sorrows own.  
Let it look black as Hell, no Ray appear,  
Nor on it God in common Light draw near!  
But unregarded may it from above,  
To ' all other Days a different Circle move!  
Augment the last Night's gloom, and ne'er be found,  
But in a Sea of Rapes, and Murder drowned!  
Let Deaths grim Terrors on it ever dwell,  
Of if't has Light, let it be such as fell  
On Sodom, when avenging Heaven did shower  
Tempests of Fire, and floods of Lightning pour!   

And for the Night (if yet it were the Night,  
For any Day too bad, which first disclosed the sight)  
Dark of itself, let Horror on it seize!  
And when all others welcome are for th' ease,  
And respite, which they bring the toilsome care  
Of pains, which in their Curtains hidden are,  
Let it be Cursed too, and by ' a fatal Breath,  
Doomed not the shadow of it, but very Death!  
Sad, dismal, solitary, know no Joys,  
No cheerful shouts, but a dull confused noise  
Of Groans and Shrieks, as when the parting Soul  
Labours in vain its dest'iny to control!  
And as the Criminal, who, to die next Morn,  
The pity of the many, and their Scorn,  
Curses its shortness, and does think it done,  
Sooner than other Nights are well begun;  
Let it abide Cursed, and grown Ominous,  
Its Tale in some prodigious ruin lose!  
Black be its Twilight, in it rise no Star,  
But such, as when 'tis seen, though from a far,  
Famine portends, and Blood, and the World's flame,  
And all the Plagues that have, or have not Name!  
Let it expect the Light, and pine away  
To Darkness palpable, but see no Day!  
With thousand Curses more—  
And Day or Night be ' it, Evening, or the Morn,  
From th' Years account let it be ever torn!  
To me, itself, and Heaven and all be lost,  
And from the number of the Days be crossed!  
O had it never been, or had that Hour  
But barred the Gate, and damned the fertile Door  
(Unhappy Gate, but Hour unhappy more!)  
Sorrow I ne'er had known, nor had these Eyes  
Beheld the Light, which none but Fools can prise.  
Rather why died I not, making the Womb,  
At once my busy tiring House and Tomb;  
But by the Knees I must perverted be,  
And live more Deaths than one to act, more Plagues to see  
Draw th' hated Breasts only to fetch supply,  
After ten thousand Deaths, new deaths to try,  
And at the last with greater sense and torment die!   

Had I then died, still as the Night, or Grave,  
My Voice had been, without a Death to crave.  
Still had I lain, and in Oblivion's breast  
Enjoyed a sweeter sleep and sounder rest.  
The Earth, which does in its cold Lap enfold  
All Arts and Arms, Princes and all their Gold,  
Which Sepulchers does for their Tombs prepare,  
Great in their Dust and in their Ruins fair,  
For me, to Die then had I been allowed,  
Had marked a place, amidst the awful Crowd,  
There where untimely Births i'th' Pit are thrown,  
And through the Earth's soft pores the Plains with verdure crown.   

An awful place it is, with Company  
The best and great'st, where in apartments lie  
Kings, and their Counsellors, each in his Bed,  
With each his Sword clapped underneath his Head.  
For there the proud Usurpors terrors cease,  
And there the weary are at perfect ease,  
And the whole Region riots in the spoils of Peace.  
Prisoners enjoy their Liberty, at least know  
No other Chains, than what their Jailers do.  
Both small and great there undistinguished be,  
Undisturbed by outworn Authority.  
Masters and Servants throw those Names aside,  
And for a nobler freedom both provide.  
No fear of the Oppressor's there, no wrong,  
No Clamours, no Reproach amidst that throng;  
But a deep silence fills the profound waist,  
Deaf to all calls, but the last Trumpets blast.  
Ah, might I rest there! Why is Death denied  
To him, who seeks it, in those shades to hide?  
Who for it digs, and would more gladly find  
That Treasure, than the mines he leaves i'th' way behind!  
Light and this Life, will but increase his pain,  
Light and this Life, of which he does complain,  
And would for ' one Death exchange, but all in vain.  
Why is Life thrust on such a Man, who's dead,  
Dead to himself, and God, all comfort fled?  
Me why is't thrust on, who the Gift despise,  
As th' worst of this World's great impert'nencies;  
Nay more, its greatest Curse; unwelcome Guest,  
That never, le's me never be at rest,  
Nor Bed, nor Board their just refreshment give;  
Which! (who would thus?) thus I'd not always live;  
Too long already, to feel what I feared,  
Sadder than can be told, too doleful to be heard;   

At rest I ne'er was, but compared with this,  
All former Grief as gone, and vanished is,  
And all, but very Hell, would be a kind of Bliss.   
1660.   

The Prayer of HABAKKUK.  Hab. 3. Domine, audivi auditionem. 

I.  
MY God, I have Thy Wonders heard,  
And their report like those, who saw them feared,  
I heard, what Thou of Old hast done,  
Revive Thy Work, nor let it die;  
But since to make us hope Thou hast begun,  
Let our Deliverance too draw nigh!  
Lord, in the midst of th' Years appear,  
Nor ever, ever thus forbear,  
To put an happy issue to our Fear!  
Ith' midst of th' Years Thy Greatness show,  
For we are ready if Thou thou art but so!  
Let us in Wrath Thy Mercy see,  
Remembered this, let that forgotten be!  
What tho with us the full Time 's not expired,  
With Thee 'tis ended, and by us desired.  
Ages to come, and Ages long since past,  
In Heaven, where Thou art, present are,  
'Tis ever now and now will ever last.  
O, Now from Heaven Thy Power declare,  
And let it once be here, what it is ever there.   

II.  Deus ab Austro veniet. 
God came from Teman, and the Holy One,  
Descended from Mount Paran, with a mighty Train:  
The Earth to Heaven did dart the Rays again,  
And as He passed the Sky with Glory shone.  
Refined Light, without allay,  
Such as above makes Angel's Day,  
Such was His Brightness, and such was His Way.  
He was all Light, but from His Side  
Shot forth a Beam, so clear, and pure,  
That none to see it could endure;  
And there, as in the dark, He did His Glories hide.  
The Pestilence before Him went,  
Gathering new Poisons, as the old were spent;  
Ruin and Desolation, at His Feet,  
Never to part again did meet,  
But sworn to execute His Wrath on Man,  
Kissed and embraced each other close, as they before Him ran.   

III.  Stetit, & mensus est Terram, 
He stood and in His Hand  
He held a Line, and measuring Wand,  
Both to meet out, and to destroy his Land.  
Over the Earth the fatal Line He threw,  
And that it levelly on all sides might lie,  
He smote the Nations, and they ' in haste withdrew;  
Th' affrighted Earth, that fain would fly,  
Seeing it could not stir, the Line did take,  
But did with horror, and amazement shake;  
The Rocks as it came o'er their Backs, did quake;  
Bowed down their Heads, and grieved they were so high.  
The everlasting Mountains scattered lay,  
And the perpetual Hills sank down, and stole away.   

IV.  Pro iniquitate vidi Tentoria. 
I saw the Tents of Egypt in distress,  
Methoughts I heard their doleful groans;  
The Land did tremble, and its emptiness  
An hollow murmur added to its moans,  
And shrieked a deadly echo from the wounded Stones,  
When not content to see their Firstborn slain,  
Conquered on Land, they once again  
Would try the fortune of the Main.  
Since they the Tenth Shock could so stoutly brave,  
They scorned to fear the Eleventh Wave,  
Till they themselves, and that saw buried in a Grave.  
What ailed the Rivers, Lord, what ailed the Flood,  
That Thou shouldst make their streams true Veins of Blood?  
What could the Sea, against Thee do,  
So small against so great a Foe,  
Exalted Thou so high, and that so low?  
Could it deserve Thy Wrath, or roar so loud,  
From Heaven, Thy Throne, to call Thee down;  
Or in its swellings was it grown so proud,  
It ' sdeigned a check from a single frown,  
Unless in Triumph God would o'er it ride,  
And Seas, from Seas below, as first from those above divide?   

V.  Suscitans suscitabis Arcum, 
So on the Sea; i'th' Air his Bow was seen;  
Not by Reflection, like the Rainbow made,  
Where all the pleasing Colours are together laid,  
That Man might be no more afraid  
Of a new Deluge to be unsherd in,  
And once more drown, what it could never purge, his Sin.  
That is his Bow of Peace, but this of War,  
The Sky about it was with Darkness spread,  
Slaughter, and Gore had stained it red,  
Ghastly and terrible it glistned from afar.  
A poisoned Arrow on the string did hang,  
It hung a while, but when the Bow He drew,  
Drawn to the head away it flew,  
And flying gave a deadly twang;  
The Air a good while after rang.  
The sound how loud, the Pile how keen,  
How would it enter, when no Mail could come between▪  
Such was his Word, which did their Way prepare,  
The Oath, which to the Tribes He passed,  
Making them Conquerors every where,  
Till they were in Canaan placed,  
Till to the Promised Land, He brought them safe at last▪   

VI  Semper fluvios scindes T●rrae. 
But first the War did rage at Home,  
Thirst, a worse Foe than Amaleck, to be o'ercome.  
To God for Drink they cry,  
Not with a Wet, but envious Eye;  
For Drought long since had made those Cisterns dry.  
They cried, and murmured, to ' Egypt back would go,  
Till from the Rock God bid the Waters flow;  
The Rock obeyed, and to the sacred Rod did bow.  
Out gushed new Streams, th' admiring Earth gave way,  
But wondered how such Rivers should come there;  
Yet looked again to see her fear,  
And as she saw it quaked, and ready cut in Channels lay.   

VII.  Viderunt te & doluerunt Montes. 
There as He marched, the Mountains saw their God,  
And staggered as he shook His Rod;  
The surly Deep past silent by,  
And fearful any more to look on high,  
In humble plains of liquid Crystal flat did lie.  
The bolder Waves, which yet would rise,  
And with their towering Billows dare the Skies,  
Seeing Him, started and shrieked out;  
No more of their Defiance thought,  
And of His Presence were ashamed to doubt.  
As when one sees some Ruin near,  
Ready upon his Head to fall,  
Which yet he cannot help at all,  
Cannot prevent; but with unequal strength must bear;  
Expecting the dead weight he stands,  
Shrinks in his Shoulders, and lifts up his Hands:  
So stood the Waves, and without power to fly,  
With raised up Hands and Eyes, had hardly strength to cry.   

VIII.  Sol & Luna steterunt. 
The Sun amazed stood still, and at the sight,  
Bid the Moon stop, and see the bloody Fight;  
Never was such a Fight, never so long a Day,  
When Heaven itself did waiting stay,  
Nor till it saw the Victors went away.  
The Lord Himself that Day marched out,  
Hailstones and Coals of Fire hurled all about;  
In wrath He marched, through the whole Land,  
And thresht the Nations, as He passed along,  
His Arm so weighty, and his Wrath so strong,  
None durst against Him stand.  
To save his People did He thus appear,  
To them so Glorious, to His Foes so full of Fear.   

IX.  Percussisti Caput de domo, etc. 
To th' Earth He struck their Princes down,  
Their Villages destroyed, sacked every Town;  
Tho like a Whirlwind, they against us came,  
God for us fought in arms of Flame.  
Flames, which their blasts made fiercer burn,  
And on themselves with double Vengeance turn;  
In Fire God came against them, and o'ercome:  
Did through the Sea on His great Horses ride,  
Whilst Waves to make Him room, stood up in heaps, on either side.   

X.  Audivi & contu●batus est, etc. 
This as I heard my Joints unloosed,  
Through all my Veins i'll Horror was diffused.  
My Belly trembled, and my Lips did quake,  
My Bones for very rottenness did shake.  
Afraid I was, yet could not choose but fear,  
When I such mighty things did here,  
When e'er I was aware,  
The God, who did them I perceived drew near.  
O may I rest, when he to judge shall rise!  
For when He does the wicked World chastise,  
How heavy then will be His Hand, how red his Eyes!   

XI.  Ascendam ad Populum. 
From Thee, Lord, then, to my God now I fly,  
And for Thy Mercy, on Thy Power rely,  
Propitious Thee thy Land has found, and so shall I.  
Nothing shall make me quit my trust,  
For Thou art Pitiful, as well as Just.  
No, though the Figtree blossom not,  
And on the Vine the generous clusters rot;  
Tho th' labours of the Olive cease,  
And all the lesser Plants of Life,  
With Man, as He is with his God at strife,  
Deny to give their rich increase.  
Let th' Earth threat Famine, bear no Grass,  
Iron below, as Heaven above, is Brass.  
No Fruit, no Pasture yield,  
But be with Thorns and Brambles filled,  
And they burned up, whilst there's a Furnace in each Field;  
Let the Flocks die, and in the Stall  
The Ox, not by the Knife, but want of Fodder fall;  
Yet in my God will I rejoice,  
Whose care I am, as I made him my choice.  
'Tis He 's my strength, and freed from fear,  
For me on high He shall His Truth display;  
Or when the Desolation's near,  
Give me Hinds Feet to scape away. 
1663.    

Comiato.  
Song wherewith I first Begun,  
My Great Redeemers Praise to sing;  
And from a far more noble string,  
(Than I was wont) an Hebrew Descant run,  
For the great Harp of Jesses Son,  
To be prepared, when Time should be:  
Preserve that Time's blessed Memory,  
And all that, by Thee ' inspired, I since have done,  
That if with Men no Grace I find,  
With Heaven I may, and Peace in my own Mind!     

OCCASIONAL RHYMES.  

The Saying of CLEANTHES.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 
Epict. cap. 77.   
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
DVC me Parens, 
Sen. Ep. 107.  Celsique Dominator Poli  
Quocunque placuit, nulla parendi mora est,  
Adsum impiger; fac nolle, comitabor gemens,  
Malusque patiar, quod pati licuit bono.  

I.  
LEAD me, O Providence Divine,  
Where e'er Thou hast appointed me to go;  
I'll follow willingly, and show,  
By my quick pace, that one design,  
Tho hid to me, acts Thy unerring Will and mine.   

II.  
Briskly I'll follow Thee; for so  
I shall prevent my Fate, which to decline  
Beyond my Compass is, and Line;  
Worse by resistance I shall grow,  
And after all be driven, whether I will or no.    

Upon a terrible Storm of Thunder, Wind, and Rain, 25 July 1670, done by Night in the midst of it.  

I.  
GREAT God of Thunder, at whose Voice  
The Earth and its Foundations shake,  
And Man, whom Thou hast made its Lord, does quake,  
Still the dreadful, and amazing Noise!  
Lo! as Thy People Israel did of old,  
By Fear surprised, yet by our fear made bold,  
Lord, lest we die, we beg Thou wouldst Thy Voice withhold!   

II.  
Yet speak, for (Lo!) Thy Servants hear!  
And speak Thyself, but not in Smoak, and Flame!  
The mighty Storm, that by the Tishbite came,  
And rend the Hills, and did the Mountain's tear,  
The Tishbite saw unmoved, knowing Thou wert not there.  
At length was heard an awful sound,  
Whispers and murmurs undistinct around,  
With silence waited on profound,  
And a soft Voice, in which the Thunder's shouts were drowned.  
The Prophet listened, and inclined his Head,  
Filled with sacred and unusual Dread;  
His Face did in his Mantle hide;  
For Thou in triumph on the peaceful sound didst ride,  
And He, who braved the Thunder, bowed and worshipped   

III.  
With such another Voice Divine,  
Lord, speak to us, and we will hear!  
Thy Thunder is too loud for our purged Ear,  
And dreadfully Thy scorching Lightnings shine.  
That voice of Fire, till the Great Day restrain,  
Where to be slept out 't shall be striven in vain;  
For, even the Dead by it awaked, shall rise again.    

The NATIVITY.  
An Ode.  

I.  
WHO would not envy, if he durst, your Grace,  
Blessed Shepherds, to whom first the Tidings came,  
That God, who neither Time can bond, nor Space,  
Th' Almighty, who upholds this rolling Frame,  
Deigned to be born, and did the Breast embrace:  
Of the World's Maker made himself a Child,  
And wrapped in swaths, though He whole Nature filled?  
Too happy News this, in the City to be told,  
I'th' Palace, and at Herod's Court,  
Where all the learned Father Jews resort;  
ere it reach them, let the report grow cold!  
There's too much Spleen, and Malice there,  
Hypocrisy, Distrust, and servile Fear,  
intemperance, Lust, Extortion, Cruelty,  
And, if than these there greater Vices be,  
Pride, which of ills the worst, pollutes the Air.  
The Country he better place, God for his Birth did choose,  
(Tho not so gay,) and Men more Innocent,  
To whom he'd show His great Descent:  
And when He did Jerusalem refuse,  
'Twas to recall the Ancient Time, and Use,  
When He to Man in Paradise first went:  
That He to Peace, and Justice, might the preference give,  
And all the Graces that i'th' Country safely live:  
And lest the Truth should be denied,  
Ith' Country he'd be Born, but in the City Died.   

II.  
" Fear not, O Shepherds, th' Angel said!  
And need there was, to bid them not to fear,  
Since greater Souls than theirs might be afraid,  
That God, unlooked for, should approach so near,  
And full Springtides of Light, at Midnight's Ebb appear.  
For Night it was, and posting towards the Day,  
Grown darker on a sudden, than before,  
The Shepherds by their Flocks expecting lay,  
Till their bright Star should ope' the Mornings Door;  
When, Lo! a brighter Star broke out,  
And sacred Beams Angelic Forms did show,  
Fairer than thousand Suns, though all about  
They their united Flames should throw.  
'Twas Gabriel, who the Message brought  
To the ' ever Virgin that she should conceive;  
Gabriel, who now the happy Minute taught,  
When his Great Lord the Father's Throne did leave,  
A Body fitted for him to receive;  
Bright in His Prince's glory, bright in ' His own,  
All clad in Hallowed Light came down,  
Ambassador of God, and Herald to His Son.   

III.  
On Heaven's high Top awhile He stood,  
And viewed all Palestine around;  
All Palestine in sleep lay drowned,  
even Jordan slumbered to the murmurs of his Flood.  
Nor voice of Man, nor noise of Dogs was heard,  
The bowing Mountains seemed to nod,  
And at the Presence of their God,  
Who o'er them waved his All-commanding Rod,  
Inclined their Heads, and the great Spell revered.  
Each Field, each Hill did rest,  
And equal Night possessed  
The painful Labourer, and his weary Beast.  
Bethle'hem alone, this Transient Death survived,  
And in her Plains some lived,  
Yet whom the Sight did so surprise,  
They hardly durst believe their Eyes,  
Yet durst not but believe, and sent to Heaven their cries.   

IV.  
So at the last Day shall there some be found  
To hear, alive, the Trumpets dreadful sound;  
Amazed and trembling shall they stand,  
Feel on themselves a Powerful Hand,  
And willing, or unwilling take, the great Command.  
" Be changed ('twill say) ye Living! and ye Dead  
" Wake and arise, and to the Judgement come!  
The Living, soon as e'er the word is said,  
Shall feel the Terrors they did dread,  
And without help of Death, or Grave, reach their Eternal Home.  
The Dead with their own Bodies shall arise,  
And then the Earth, and Sea, and Skies,  
The scattered Atoms shall restore  
Of Bodies, which they did devour,  
To join with parted Souls, but never to be parted more.  
No guilty Criminal his Face shall hide,  
Or undiscovered the great Judge avoid,  
But from his Hold, though self-condemned, come and be tried.   

V.  
Nature itself shall to ' its old nothing roll;  
And than heavens beauteous Scroll,  
With all the Mistic Notes that there  
(Writ by the Hand Divine)  
So wondrous and, and so bright appear,  
Shall in one flame with Earth and Sea, more dreadful shine.  
Like that, which once the Prophet sent  
To Judah's stubborn King; 
Jer. 36.   
A while he heard the Woes, but grown impatient,  
With Hands profane the Parchment rend,  
And into th' Fire the severed parts did sling;  
And there they crackled, there did together shrink,  
Till all-consumed they were to Ashes burned.  
Ah! sottish Prince, and vain to think  
Decrees of Heaven so easily overturned!  
Lo! God himself resents the wrong,  
Thyself shall be the subject of a longer Roll ere long!   

VI  
And so he was, for by the dread Command,  
A larger Roll the Prophet did prepare.  
By th' same Command another Heaven more fair,  
In place of this, when 'tis consumed shall stand.  
And there the Thrones shall be for Judgement set,  
From awful which the Son with Majesty,  
And doubled Grace shall Reign illustriously,  
In his own Godhead, and th' Exalted Manhood, great.  
All Nations then, and Languages,  
The Rich, the Poor, the Simple, and the Wise,  
With all who Tents inhabited, or Palaces,  
Naked to the Bar shall rise,  
And answer each Man to his name:  
Distinctions shall aside be thrown,  
Nor Kings be by their Sceptres known,  
Or the great Houses which they made, or whence they came.  
Around the Bar shall Angels wait,  
For Execution armed, and clothed for state,  
Sole ministers of Wrath, who only were of Love o'late.   

VII.  
Thither, O Muse, thither bring back my Song,  
From which thou wandered haste too long;  
Of Gabriel, and his second Message sing,  
Who now upon the Wing,  
The happiest News, e'er heard by mortal ears, does bring.  
" Attend, he said, and those glad Tidings hear,  
" Good Tidings, and of great Joy, which shall be  
" Not unto you alone,  
" Or from the Father to the Son,  
" For one descent alone continued down,  
" But unto all who are to come, or wished this day to see,  
" For Lo! to you is Born this Day,  
" A Saviour, which is Christ the Lord,  
" In David's Town, which long expecting lay,  
" Promised Messiah, and th' Incarnate Word.  
" To Day He ●s Born, and this shall be the Sign,  
" By which the Mighty Infant shall be found,  
" In Swaddling Clothes he shall lie bound,  
" And in a Manger rests the Babe Divine.  
Never was Sight of equal Fame,  
Not the first Man of Godlike Frame,  
For God himself thus Born, a Mortal Man became.   

VIII.  
He spoke, and with him straight were seen  
Myriad of Angels, in their best Array,  
Myriad of Angels, who kept Holiday,  
And all their Glories did display,  
No Cloud to ' eclipse the Lustre came between.  
And then they Danced, and then they Sang  
Praises, themselves did first compose;  
The Starry Vault, with the loud Echo rang,  
And the whole Concert doubled o'er this close;  
" Glory to God on High,  
" i'th' highest great Jehovah bless,  
" Good Will towards Men, on Earth be Peace,  
" Glory to God on High!  
And may this Round begun thus last Eternally!  
And up they rose, with Bays and Ivy Crowned,  
Not such as Mortal Poets wear below,  
But what i'th' Heavenly Temp●e grow,  
And with whose Wreaths the first great Makers Brows are bound.   

IX.  
Go! Shepherds, go! and kiss th' Eternal Son!  
To Bethle'hem go, and the first Tributes bring  
To Israel's Saviour, and heavens Newborn King!  
To you this more than common Honour's done,  
To ' approach your God, and Worship at his humble Throne.  
Make haste, nor by your own delay  
For others to prevent your Joys give way;  
Why should they first be happy, whilst you only stay?  
For Kings shall come e'er long, from th' East,  
By a less Flame than what's your Guide,  
Directed hi'ther, to find that Rest,  
Which seems not theirs, till by ' you accepted, or denied.  
Of you God takes the first, and greatest Care,  
Who thus by Angels Summoned are;  
When they, though Kings, and coming from afar,  
Shall wait, and both to call, and lead them, only have a Star,   
14 Jan. 166●.   

The STAR.  
A Carol For the Epiphany by the III Kings.  

SEe how that Glorious Star, 
1. King.  at Noon does rise,  
And like another Sun new Guilds the Skies!  
Look how it dares the Ruler of the Light, 
2. King.   
And in His clearest Beams appears more bright,  
Calling before its time the sluggish Night!  
Rather the Conquered Sun to ' its Rays gives way, 
3. King.   
And but a Phospher seems to its new Day.  
The Conquered Sun, etc.   Chorus trium. 

Sure 'tis no common Star, 
2. King.  see where it goes  
A daring Passage itself only knows;  
And cross the Heaven points out to Palestine, 
1. King.   
And as it that way leads more bright does shine:  
Come let us follow, where it leads, and see  
What may the Cause of its appearing be, 
3. King.   
Whether it set a Star, or some Divinity.  
Come let us, etc.   Chorus alter trium. 

Some greater Power, 
3. King.  which to direct our Way,  
Has chose this borrowed Shape, and glorious Ray;  
And when we knew not well which Road to go,  
Does towards Judea our great Journey show: 
1. King.   
That way it points, 
2. King.  that way we must along,  
No fear, when Heaven's out Guide, we should go wrong.  
That way, etc.   Chorus trium tertius. 

O'er Bethle'm lo! 
1. King.  at length the Flame does rest!  
Bethle'm, that with the Prince of Peace is blest:  
Bethle'm, 
2. King.  which must by ancient Prophecy  
The Tiring-house of the Almighty be,  
Where he will clothe Himself with base Humanity.  
And that's the House, 
3. King.  where we our Gifts must bring  
To the World's God, and Israel's Infant King.   Chorus Omnium. 

Hither 'twas, hither the bright Star did lead,  
Let's enter humbly, and approach with Fear:  
The Star, which brought, will show him us more clear,  
And be a Glory round the Infant's Head:  
O this is He! fall down, and worship him! fall down  
And kiss his Feet, whose Head even Heaven thus stoops to Crown!   
23. Decemb. 1660.   

The PASSION.  
An Ode.  

I.  
TWice sixteen Years have almost o'er Thee past,  
Twice sixteen more Thou mayst as fond waste,  
In expectation, Silvius, as thou hast  
The swift-winged Years, which in their Passage scaped thee last.  
The Calendar is searched, and all in vain  
Wouldst Thou have this Day return  
To the same Point, as when in ' it Thou wert Born,  
But 'twill not be this Age, 
15. Apr. 1636.  if it ere come again.  
Enough 'tis that Thou once didst see  
The great Conjunction:  
Wait not o'er long, for what may be  
Too late for Thee,  
And is sufficient of itself alone,  
Without that Circumstance to fill Thy Song.  
For grant it now what could to Thee be ' applied  
But that thy Birth fell out the Night thy Saviour Died.   

II.  
Rise then my Muse, but from a nobler Ground,  
And sing in Numbers mournful as the Day,  
Of Nature's fright, and disarray,  
Which did Philosophy confound,  
And scattered dismal Horrors all around.  
When Heaven, and Earth, and Hell partook  
In the Darkness, and the Night,  
Which like a Sea o'erflowed the plains of Light,  
And all Spectators with amazement struck!  
Unlike to that, which once in Egypt reigned,  
When solid Night did Rhamases invest,  
But Goshen, of the Sun possessed,  
Over the Gleam a Prospect gained,  
And uninvellopt see how far the heavens were stained.  
Nor was it to the Antipodes  
The Day had hastened his access;  
For they unsensible of Light,  
Lay buried all the while in Night,  
And without Miracle could not behold it bright.  
Unless Thou add'st the Prodigy to raise,  
(And which none else but Thou, O Muse, dares say)  
Th' Antipodes at Midnight rose to gaze,  
And Night Jerusalem less admired, than they the Day.   

III.  
A thought too wild this, and extravagant,  
And which does all but its own airy basis want:  
Say rather that the Pangs and Agonies  
Of a new, and better World,  
Which was thence to take its rise,  
Were thus concealed from Mortal Eyes,  
And Darkness, as at first, o'er all th' Expansion hurled.  
God's sacred Kingdom was that Birth,  
The same New Heaven, and new Earth,  
Which the belov'd Disciple saw,  
In all its Beauties, as it did appear,  
And to provoke Adventurers there,  
A Chart thereof by Vision did exactly draw.  
For on the Cross as our great Saviour hung,  
And just Expiring, bowed his Conquering Head,  
From the black Skies bright beams like Lightning sprung  
But as the Day, continued long,  
Chase winged Darkness, which before them fled.  
And as the first Creations Work begun  
By the commanding Word, which He  
To Nothing, and to Chaos said,  
Making when He spoke only, " Let there be,  
By a no less Word this too was done,  
Created by that Voice, which cried, " 'tis Finished.   

IV.  
'Tis Finished the Mighty Victor cried,  
All reaking in Triumphal Gore,  
Which his own Wounds, not Enemies Necks supplied;  
For though with them He Skirmisht had before,  
And oft rebated had their Power,  
He could not throughly for us Conquer, till He Died.  
Alone He did the Wine-press tread,  
Of his Just Father's Wrath, alone,  
Israel's to raise, stooped his own Head,  
And to assist Him was there none.  
So far from that, that i'th' pursuit  
Of Satan, Sin, and Death, when He cried out,  
With fainting Groans, I Thirst,  
His Patience some, and some his Conquest Cursed,  
And Gall and Vinacre of the bitter Tree, was all the Fruit.  
Till having tasted of the Brook i'th' way,  
Anew He followed, till He gained the Day;  
And to complete his Victory,  
Got thence more Aids, and strength enough to Die.   

V.  
Blessed Saviour, who but Thou couldst Live so long,  
And in one Soul so many Deaths endure,  
And different all, and all their Pains so strong,  
That their rehearsal does fresh Griefs ensure,  
And again pierce those Hearts Thou bledst to Cure?  
When in the Garden Thou didst first begin,  
Gethsemane, for ease designed,  
And safe retirements of a troubled Mind,  
Purging thence all th' effects of Sin,  
Which still, though hid, remained behind,  
The dregs of what on Man in Paradise broke in.  
Fatal, but happy Place that, where did grow  
Midst whole Woods, no less beauteous, but one Tree,  
That even, by Wilfulness alone, could be  
The occasion of our Misery;  
But in all else, more secret Snares than we  
Till by them Caught, shall ever know!  
From this to clear it, and restore  
To th' Garden, what it had before,  
And perfect Innocence add, one Beauty more;  
As there fallen Man his Life first forfeited,  
There, to Redeem him, first the Blood of God was shed.   

VI  
How grievous were his Pains there, and how great?  
Burning, though in the frosty shades of Night:  
Shivering with Cold, but in a Bloody Sweat;  
And all dissolved, at his approaching Passions Sight?  
Thrice did He his Disciples leave,  
And thrice to his Great Father prayed,  
Thrice to himself He answer made,  
And by an Angel did support receive;  
But, (O!) th' Assaults that were within,  
Compared with which his Body's Flame,  
Was temperate heat, and scarce deserved the Name,  
When in his Soul the Burning did begin,  
And Hell to ' increase the Fire, did Mines of Brimstone bring!  
A thousand Fiends about him flew,  
And Coals, and bailful Firebrand; threw,  
That seized at length the noblest Part,  
Beyond the weak defence of Nature, or of Art,  
And unconsum'd, did only leave the Heart.   

VII.  
The Heart did unconsum'd remain,  
By the Arch-Fiend  
With its own Grief to burst designed,  
When in the Judgement Hall again,  
He should the Charge renew, but all in vain.  
Thither betrayed by he Kiss the Traitors bring,  
With Fetters bound, heavens Sacred King;  
Where being Cited, and Blasphemed,  
Flouted, Scourged, Spat upon,  
Derided, and Contemned,  
By them Reviled, denied by ' His own,  
A Reed in ' his Hand, his Head with Thorns they Crown,  
And lead to Golgotha their God, whom they ' had Condemned▪   

VIII.  
Follow, Muse, if thou hast the heart, and see  
What other Torments they prepare;  
I know the utmost of their Cruelty,  
And from thy Mouth had rather hear,  
The sad Report, than a Spectator be.  
Yet, that thou mayst not stand thyself surprised,  
Stripped off his Clothes, in Nakedness disguised,  
To th' Cross they will nail his Hands, 'tis said,  
And bore with Nalls his tender Feet;  
Then, all his Sufferings to upbraid,  
" Cry, If Thou art the Son of God, let's see't,  
" Now from the Tree triumphantly come down,  
" Or reign thence, like Thyself alone,  
" Or any other Wonder show,  
" Whereby Thy De'ity may be known,  
" And to its Sceptre we will bow.  
As if there greater Miracle could be,  
Than all that Patience, which they do, but will not see.   

IX.  
Nor is this all, but when He's Dead,  
His Side they will open with a Spear;  
Approach the Wound, and look what Blood is shed,  
For it Mysterious will appear,  
And be another Argument for thee next Year!  
A better Spring will thence arise,  
Than Helicon, so Famed of old,  
There bathe thyself, if thou art wise,  
Nor fear in those chaste Streams to be too bold.  
But see, be sure too long thou dost not stay,  
For all the while Thou art away,  
Tears only from these Eyes will flow,  
And in my Fancy I shall double o'er  
All that I have told thee now before,  
And all that thou returned will'st tell again, and more,  
Beside my Verse will fettered be, and slow,  
And want both Wings to fly, and Feet to go.   
10. Martii 166●.   

EPIGRAM. 
Out of Latin.   
WHen my God Died, I first began to Live,  
And Life which he refused Heaven me did give  
Unlike that Day, O how unlike we were!  
Him dead the Cross, me ' alive the Knees did bear.  
But may not I die too? This life of mine  
I can as well as Thou despise, if not like Thine.  
Ah dearest Lord, this Legacy bestow,  
A double Life, then to Thy Death I'll owe:  
And sanctified thus in my Birth by Thee,  
A living Death, my dying Life shall be.  
5. Decemb. 1668.   

An Ecstasy of Divine Love.  
Out of Spanish. S. Teresa.  Aquesta Divina Union, etc. 

I.  
THat sacred Bond of Charity,  
Wherein I uncorrupted Live,  
Makes God the Captive Chain receive,  
But my pinioned Heart sets free,  
Tho causing still such love in me,  
To see heavens King my Prisoner lie,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

II.  
How tedious now this Life is grown,  
The way to Death how hard and long;  
How dark the Dunge'on th' Ir'ns how strong,  
With which my ' unwilling Soul's kept down,  
And has no trust but hope alone!  
These thoughts my Troubles raise so high,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

III.  
Bitter Life, shalt thou be to me,  
Where I my God can ne'er enjoy;  
But if my Love has no alloy,  
My hope as tried and pure may be;  
Ah! come my Lord, and set me free!  
Take off this weight, which makes me cry,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

IV.  
By hope alone it is I Live,  
Hope that I bear the seeds of Death,  
And dying once, a second Birth  
Secures that Hope, and Life does give;  
O Death, I'll ne'er thy coming grieve,  
When Life succeeds, through hope so nigh,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

V.  
Who can the Charms of Love refuse?  
Ah Life, no more my Heart betray,  
'Tis only thou standest in my way,  
Which rather than my Love, I'll lose,  
And Death for my great Champion choose;  
So much o'late thy Enemy,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

VI  
The Life alone, that's hid above,  
Can of true Life the Title claim;  
That Toy, which here usurps the Name,  
Its pleasure hides, and deads' our Love,  
And a worse Foe than Death does prove;  
Death, for whose sake I Life so fly.  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

VII.  
What can I give, frail Life, but thee  
To th' God, who in me deigns to live?  
Yet how can I the nothing give  
Till he first grants me Liberty?  
O let me die his Face to see!  
But that's so distant from my Eye,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

VIII.  
Beside, my God, from thee away,  
Who would not of a Life complain,  
That terrible, and full of pain,  
Suffers a thousand Deaths each Day,  
A Mortal, but a slow decay?  
And this so swells my Misery,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

IX.  
All Creatures love their Element,  
And pleasure there enjoy and rest;  
And if by Death they are deceased  
To their first nothing they are sent:  
But I'm beyond kind Death's extent,  
And yet so many hardships try,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

X.  
When in the Eucharist my dull Soul,  
Eating thy Flesh itself would ease,  
A thousand thoughts for entrance press,  
And there not to enjoy Thee whole,  
Whole, and alone, I a ' new condole;  
For 'tis the Voice of every Sigh,  
That I die, cause I cannot die.   

XI.  
I please myself i'th' Hopes, 'tis true,  
ere long, my God, of seeing Thee;  
But fearing lest they false should be,  
My Torments with my Fears renew,  
And both so close my Soul pursue,  
Hoping mid both so heartily,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

XII.  
Lord, from this Death deliver me,  
And Life thus begged at length bestow!  
Why should I still be kept below?  
Look how I die for love of Thee!  
And since enjoyed Thou canst not be  
In this Life's death, regard my cry,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

XII.  
My dying Life I'll then lament,  
And living Death in Tears bewail;  
For my Sins sake those Foes prevail,  
And all my Age in Mourning's spent:  
To my release at length consent,  
Nor let me grieve eternally,  
That I die, 'cause I cannot die.   

L'Envoy.  
Blessed Soul! that hither couldst arrive,  
How do I love yet envy Thee,  
Wishing myself this Ecstasy,  
And that th' Example Thou dost give,  
Would make me less afraid to live;  
And to each close of Thine reply!  
That I die, cause I cannot die!  
20. May, 1668.    

The FLIGHT.  

I.  
NO wonder, Soul, thou so admirest a Verse,  
And countest thyself in its Possession brave;  
For 'tis, what e'er thou canst desire to have,  
On this side Heaven, but more to make, than to rehearse.   

II.  
'Tis th' end of Preaching, Loves best Exercise,  
The Quintessence of Prayer, Praises refined;  
A Change exstatic into th' Heavenly Mind,  
And on whose soaring Wings above the World I rise.   

III.  
O, could I always stay where 't first sets me!  
How naked looking down would th' World appear!  
Its Joys how empty, and how vain its Fear;  
Another flight would make me leave Mortality.   

IV.  
For as the sealed Dove so high does tower;  
That i'th' pure Air at last it flying dies;  
So should I mount too, and above the Skies,  
Rapt to th' Etern abodes unfeel my dying Hour.   

V.  
But I must live still, and my flight to bond,  
Till truly sealed, there something, Lord, will be;  
Some Work of Thine be ' it, be it but a Tree,  
even there I nearer Heaven shall rest, than on the Ground.   
22. Jan. 1671/2. noctu. Exsurrexi & adhuc sum tecum   

An Hymn and Prayer, To the Holy JESUS my Lord. 
The hint and manner of stanze taken from the last Canzove of Fr. Petrarc. Lib. 11. Virgin ●ella.   
Parode.  

I.  
JESUS, th' Eternal Sun of Righteousness,  
Unlike our Mortal Suns, which Rise, and Set,  
Subliming this, and t'other World with Light,  
Love bids me of Thy wondrous Power to Treat,  
But how Thy Power, or Wonders to express,  
I know not, till Thou make my Darkness bright,  
And with Thy Beams dispel the shades of Night:  
Therefore I beg Thy aid,  
JESUS, to whom I have prayed,  
And still pray, that I worthy thou may write;  
Illustriously o'er all th' Expansion shine,  
And if I them weak to endure  
A Light so pure, dart through my Verse a ray Divine.   

II.  
JESUS, the Wisdom of the Deity,  
In whom the Mistic Treasures are concealed,  
Be'yond Reasons search, of the Eternal Mind,  
And with whose Stripes the Afflicted World is healed;  
Proof against Death, the Vanguishts Victory,  
Under whose Standart to its God rejoined,  
Love for the Noblest Service is designed,  
Love that's a Rebel now,  
JESUS, so Great that Thou  
From Heaven Thyself must come his Slaves to ' unbind:  
That I some Trophies of Thy Power may boast,  
When Thou dost Conquering ride,  
I'll Crowns provide, and sing Thy Triumphs through his Coast.   

III.  
JESUS, the Virgins, and the Martyr's Wrath,  
Who without Spot, or Wrinkle didst adorn  
The fairest Soul, which in a Body all,  
Of Charms was wondrously Conceived, and Born;  
Foughtest, and waste fought, resign'dst thy labouring Breath,  
The Lost to Save, and from the Dungeon call  
Hopes weary Prisoners, and Death's Captive thrall,  
To Thrones, at Thy Right Hand,  
JESUS, as Thou dost stand  
At Thy Great Father's, in heavens Judgement Hall;  
Grant me the Grace, and Thou the Grace canst grant,  
That when Thou shalt come next,  
Tho now perplexed, to attend, thou than I nothing want.   

IV.  
JESUS, in whom the Godhead does repose,  
Infinites Comprehension, and the Bound  
Of boundless Majesty, fathomless Deep,  
With Thorns first pierced, and e'er with Glory Crowned,  
Submitted to the Triumphs of Thy Foes,  
A Man of Sorrows, and inur'd to weep;  
Substantial God, and Man, who both dost keep  
Unmixed, and Unconfused,  
JESUS, th' Untouched, and Bruised,  
Quickening the Dead, yet who i'th' Grave didst sleep;  
'Tis Thou hast broke our Bands, th' Uusurper hurled  
Headlong into the Pit,  
In whose sides sit the great Disturbers of the World.   

V.  
JESUS, the Way, the Truth, whose Life does give  
The exactest Method how we may direct  
Our wand'ring Course to Thy Divine Abode,  
And whence, seduced to stray, is not to Live;  
A Way Thyself, while here Unerring trod,  
And now Exalted dost with Blessing's load;  
A Way, which rough at first,  
JESUS, appears and Cursed,  
But entered once proves worthy Thee and God;  
Show me Thy Way, nor take it in ill part,  
Since I am blind and weak,  
If I bespeak Thee ' in that, whose Guide and End Thou art.   

VI  
JESUS, Whose Cross the surest Anchor makes,  
Both strong and sure, entering within the Veil,  
Where Passions waves, how fierce and uncontrolled  
So e'er, rage's not, (and yet they dare assail  
The holiest Place, and Heaven i'th' Tempest shakes)  
Thou seest how there I have fixed all my hold,  
And am i'th' midst of Storms and Floods grown bold:  
Yet still there is a Shelf,  
JESUS, I mean myself,  
Against which I am in danger to be rolled.  
I sink, O now thy saving Hand forth stretch!  
Now ere my Head with th' Weeds,  
Which this Sea breeds, is wrapped, and I'm below Thy reach!   

VII.  
JESUS, how many Tears have I in vain,  
How many Sighs, and Prayers in vain poured out,  
Tho by th' expense my Flame alone's increased!  
My Life from its first Stage, traced all about,  
Unchanged by change of Habit, 's nought but Pain,  
Anguish and Torment, void of Peace and Rest;  
Nay even my Soul heaven-born, has been oppressed,  
And humbled to the Grave:  
JESUS, make haste to save,  
Nor tarry, though of Men ay ay have loved Thee least!  
Now help, to Morrow may not be so well,  
For Misery and Sin.  
Have me ' on the Wing, and where they'll pitch me who can tell?   

VIII.  
JESUS, one half of me's already gone,  
So gone, that though I have pieced up the Rent,  
Methinks I'm not the perfect thing I was,  
Tho happy still in that I am content,  
And who shall be more perfect when th' World's done,  
And One made Three into ' One again shall pass:  
Unhappy Man, unhappy were my case,  
Such doubts gave'st Thou not skill,  
JESUS, to Reconcile,  
Thou who see'st Past and Future in one Glass!  
Dear Lord, for whom too hard there nothing is,  
Give all my Griefs such end,  
As may intend Thy Honour first, and then my Bliss.   

IX.  
JESUS, my Confidence, my Hope, my Fear,  
Able to help in time of Need, and Free,  
O leave me not, when my last Hour shall come,  
Not for my sake, but His, who Ransomed me!  
Merit cries, No. But th' Image which I bear  
Pleads Lord, and would for Ancient Love make room;  
Tho I have been betrayed by Errors doom,  
To a Fairy Wood, and Brook,  
JESUS, my Shepherd, look,  
Find Thy lost Sheep, and bring the Straggler home!  
Of Streams so troubled, may I drink no more,  
Or having found my Way,  
Any more stray, or wander as I did before!   

X.  
JESUS, My God, who far off seest the Proud,  
And hatest him, let Thy Blood some pity move,  
An Heart all bruised, and contrite to regard,  
That does at length bewail its sottish love;  
And which, if once it can get free, has vowed,  
'Twill that and all things else for Thee discard,  
'Twill more than ever eye th' adored Reward,  
And purged with sacred Flame,  
JESUS, to Thy great Name,  
No cost of Wit, or Verse being basely spared,  
Its Life, and Hymns, and Service dedicate,  
To Thee own its changed desires,  
Kiss the soft Fires, and blame itself that 'twas so late.   

XI.  
JESUS, to whom that Name, as the Prize is given,  
Of all Thou didst and suffered'st without measure,  
The mighty Dowry, which Thou brought'st Thy Wife,  
Death's plague, Hell's spoil, but whose exstatic Pleasure  
Is for the Marriage Feast reserved, in Heaven,  
Whither I haste, to be than hope more rife,  
And plentiful; (Lo!) the short Day of Life  
Posts swiftly on, and flies;  
JESUS, in my Agonies,  
Tho now with Death and Hell I am at strife,  
Let me experience this Names healthful ease,  
And after a long War,  
With Truces rare, in ' it Conquer, and depart in Peace.   

Comiato.  
Thus, though with different heat of Spirit, and Verse,  
What Petrarch sang to another,  
JESUS, Thy Virgin Mother,  
The stops in part changed, I to Thee rehearse:  
I changed the stops, (for under Thy Broad Seal,  
Thou givest us no Commission,  
Her to Petition) and from her to Thee appeal.   

Altro Comiato.  
And now be pleased to accept this humble Praise,  
Other, and better Fruit,  
JESUS, of all my Suit,  
I dare not beg; even Pardon here is Bays.  
And for the Prayers, dropped more from my Heart than Pen,  
Since their least part's the Rhyme,  
And words, which chime, say, as I to them say, AMEN.    

I'll Terzo.  
When I sent it to Sir Kingsmil Lucy.  
At London, Song, Thy Russet, and Thy Frieze,  
Will seem, I fear, but course;  
Jesus, they'll cry, or worse,  
See! the dull fleghm of Solitude and Trees.  
Thus will the Fops treat Thee, those Wits by Rote;  
Yet one Thou thou lt know, e'er long,  
Who will own Thee, Song, and see Thy Beauties through Thy Coat.   

An HYMN for Vespers.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 
Out of Greek.  
JESUS CHRIST, blessed Light of Light,  
Th' Immortal Father's cheerful shine,  
Ray of Glory, all Divine,  
Equally with Him fair, and bright;  
When we see the Day decline,  
Calling the sluggish Evening on,  
We praise the Father and the Son,  
And in our laud's the Spirit join,  
" Worthy art Thou, O God, we say,  
" Worthy, O Son of God, art Thou,  
" And Thou, of Life the Lord and Giver,  
" Worthy to be Praised for ever,  
" Great THREE and ONE to Thee we bow,  
" And with th' whole World thus Crown each Day!   

LENT.  
Sestina al' Italiana Convertimento a Dio.  

I.  
WELCOME, great Queen of Fasts, thrice welcome Lent,  
With solemn Penance, and Devotion crowned,  
Sweet Abstinence, clean thoughts, and chaste desires,  
The Wings, whereby th' unpinioned Soul does fly  
Above this lower Circle, and exchange  
Substantial Cares, for Joys unmixed and pure.   

II.  
I well remember, when with thoughts less pure,  
Nor more to Piety a Friend, than Lent,  
Pleased I could well have been ne'er to exchange  
My course of Living, no, though to be Crowned  
With Bays Immortal, and Exalted rise,  
In hopes as large, as are my changed desires,   

III.  
But that time's gone, and with it those desires,  
Which held me down, and in their stead a pure  
Ethereal Flame, which upward still does rise;  
Kind thoughts of what's esteemed severe in Lent,  
My Soul (the Victim) has for the Alter Crowned  
And e'en burnt up, nor would I ' again exchange.   

IV.  
This was Thy Work, Lord, Thou 'twas didst exchange  
What was beyond my power to curb, stubborn desires,  
Making them subject to the Head Thou thou hadst Crowned;  
And now I'm Victor, with Robes clean, and pure,  
(Pure to what once I wore) and this new Lent,  
To ' attend the Triumph, rich in Spoils does rise.   

V.  
And as that rises, such hope I to rise,  
When on the Fasts great close I shall exchange  
For Easters Sun, the dewy Pearls of Lent;  
Bathing, like Oar, with frequent Tears, desires,  
Which only such a Flame can render pure,  
Fined from all Dross, and worthy to be Crowned.   

VI  
Hast Thee, blessed Day, wherein with Glory crowned,  
The World's great Saviour from the Grave did rise;  
And credence gives His Spouse, that like Him pure,  
She shall rise too, and all her Spots exchange,  
For Glories, larger than her vast desires,  
And the Pious Resveries of an holy Lent.   

Were Lent, and Primitive Institutes thus Crowned  
With purged Desires, and Lives, their Fame would rise,  
And none the Church exchange, to be more Pure.   
Sent to my Excellent Patron, Sir Nicholas Stuart, Baronet, 1672/3.   

The Song of the ANGELS, At the Fall of Lucifer.  

I.  
SON of the Morning, Firstborn of the Light,  
The once bright Phospher of the Day Divine,  
How art Thou hurled into eternal Night,  
And hid in Flames, who didst with Glory shine!  
The bold Usurper of th' Almighty's Crown,  
Proud Lucifer, to Hell is thrown,  
And singed the heavens, as he from thence fell headlong down.   

II.  
" Above the heavens, he said, I will ascend  
" And there above the Stars exalt my Throne,  
" My Conquests in the North I will extend,  
" And God a parted Rule shall have, or none:  
" Above the heights ne'er reached before I'll fly,  
" And equal made with the Most High,  
" Or gain an honourable Fall, or Victory.   

III.  
Scarce said, a pointed Thunderbolt was sent  
From th' Hand Divine, which pierced him to the heart.  
In vain he sought the Vengeance to prevent,  
And to Almighty Strength opposed his Art.  
But down he sank, and down the Monster fell,  
The stroke, nor bore, nor could repel,  
And exiled once the heavens, the next descent was Hell.   

IV.  
Hell from beneath to meet him raised its Head,  
" And now no longer shall we empty be,  
" Since Thou art come, the pale Abyssus said,  
Look! How we dress our Flames to welcome Thee!  
And all with Flames they Circled him around,  
With Flames their Prince's Temples bound,  
An Heaven of Flames they made him, strewed with Flames the Ground.   

V.  
Rejoice, OH heavens, for your Oppressor's ceased,  
And though e'er long there shall from Earth ascend,  
An unknown Race, which shall disturb your rest;  
Rejoice, and their Triumphant Arms attend,  
For when by these you shall invaded be,  
With Tears, and Importunity,  
Thus to be Conquered is to gain the Victory.   

VI  
Son of the Morning, Firstborn of the Light,  
The once bright Phospher of the Day Divine,  
How art Thou hurled into eternal Night,  
And hid in Flames, who didst with Glory shine:  
The bold Usurper of th' Almighty's Crown,  
Proud Lucifer to Hell is thrown,  
And singed the heavens, as he from thence fell headlong down.   

L'Envoy.  
SONG, that long since wert finished,  
And for another Place designed,  
Than what Thou here dost find,  
In a long Work, and long since promised;  
Say that (the Piles Foundations laid)  
The ' unwary Builder all his Charge has lost;  
For till begun  
As a Wise Man should first have done,  
He did not, as was fit, sit down;  
Throughly the Ground had not surveyed  
His Friends, or Strength had tried, or reckoned up the cost.    

Convertimento á Dio.  

LORD, my First-fruits should have been brought to thee,  
Whose due I am, and all that's mine,  
By Birthright Thou a Title hast to me,  
And by Command those Fruits are Thine;  
But Thine, or mine, neither have been  
Offered before to Sin.   

Sin came, and first concealed my right in Thee,  
And then usurped what e'er was mine,  
But let Redemption clear Thy Right to me,  
And then both shall again be Thine,  
Both Thine and mine, though they have been,  
Offered before to Sin,   

Instead of First-fruits, Lord, I bring to Thee,  
Th' whole Harvest, which yet is not mine,  
Thou in return shalt give Thyself to me  
And make it so, because 'tis Thine:  
Both Thine and mine, as if 't had been,  
Neve'r offered up to Sin.    

Deo Opt. Max. S.  Qui huc usque auxiliatus est & in futurum mihi Providebit. 
THIS Altar to Thy Name, Great God, I raise,  
The Pious Labour of my too late Praise:  
With Stones from Thine own sacred Quarry brought,  
Tho by my Artless Hand but rudely wrought.  
Artless and rude, though its Traces be,  
Methinks I by it clearly see,  
My Past Supports, and Future care,  
And what of both ' is my present share,  
The Guidance of the Love Divine,  
Making me call his Pleasure mine.  
O let it in Thy Presence stand,  
Inviolable from any Hand.  
And when on it thou deignst to look,  
Write down the Votary in Thy Book.  
Who at his Foot, has his Dependence set,  
And in th' Inscription thus proclaims Thee Great;  
To God, who hitherto has helped; my only Trust,  
And for the Future will provide, for He is Just.  
Ad Psalmos, 1667.    


The following Compositions and Translations are therefore here Printed by the Author's consent and allowance (suitable enough to the general Title of RHYMES, and he hopes not unbecoming his Habit, though done the most of them long before his Admission into Holy Orders) because they have (as to such of them at least, which he could much rather have wished lost and forgotten) by some too curious Collector of such Trifles against his will and knowledge, been already from very false Copies very falsely Published, and he is not wholly out of danger for the rest, as neither was he till now for a good number of those above, whose Copies he doubts are in many Hands.   

ODE.  Ad Passagium inducendum. 
Out of Italian of Mr. Fr. Petrarchae lib. 1. canza. 2.  

I.  O aspettata in ciel Beata, etc. 
BLESSED Soul, in Heaven expected long,  
(And long in Heaven mayst Thou expected be,  
Who ' art clothed, not loaded with Humanity,  
Like others, but more Resolute, and Strong,  
Of God beloveed, those briny Paths to tread,  
Which from our unjoined World, unto his Kingdom lead)  
Look how a Western Gale,  
Does on Thy Barks spread Canvas blow,  
Loosed from the Shore long since, with hoist up Sail,  
A better Port than what Thou leav'st to know!  
The Wind is to Thy Service pressed,  
And from this gloomy Vale, where we complain,  
Both of our own, and others Wrongs in vain,  
Of Thy first Innocence possessed,  
In a straight Line will drive Thee to Thy Rest,  
And, whether now thou ' art bound, to the true East.   

II.  Forse I devoti, etc. 
'Twas, that or now the fervent Prayers  
Of holy Men, re'inforced by their Tears,  
Had on th' Eternal Goodness wrought;  
Or if both Prayers, and Tears were weak,  
And useless Arms to stop th' Almighty Justice thought,  
Nor used, it may be, its fixed Course to break;  
'twas that of His mere Love alone,  
heavens Sacred King, again denied,  
Again by ' His Murdr'ous Enemies defied,  
Ith' place where He in triumph Died,  
In pity thither did at length look down.  
He looked, and in the generous Breast,  
Of holy Charles revenge inspired;  
Revenge, which was too long desired,  
Revenge, whose lingering Europe did infest,  
But only to be greater was a while deferred.  
Thus would He help his Spouse beloved,  
And of a War just Heaven approved,  
The bare report found Babylon thoughtful, left her moved.   

III.  Chiunque alberga ' troth Garonna, etc. 
All, who between the Alps and Garoone dwell,  
'twixt Rhodanus, and Rhine, and the salt Sea,  
The Christian Armies with their Banners swell;  
Whole Spain, that Jealous ever used to be  
Of others Honour, to the Camp does come,  
Leaving the Pirene's behind, to guard its empty Home.  
Britain, and all the Isles that lie,  
From th' Orcadeses extremity,  
To where the Straits do Afric bound,  
With all where e'er is found  
But the first Traces of the Gospel's sound,  
Various in Garb, various in Arms and Speech,  
Chari'ty does to th' high Impress provoke, or else beseech.  
And worthier her, what could be ever done,  
Or who has e'er so just a War begun?  
Not Menelaus for his Wife, nor Minos for his Son.   

IV.  una parte del mondo è, etc. 
Up in the North midst Winter, and thick Snow,  
Beyond the Sun's auspicious Ray,  
Where Clouds and Storms meet out the short lived Day,  
Is bred a Nation, which did never know  
Peace, and her Charms, or if it did, but as a Foe;  
Who ne'er were heard, or Wounds to fly, or Pain,  
Or of Death's Icy Fetters to complain,  
That were their Country to upbraid, and Birth to slain.  
These, more devout grown than of old,  
With Germane rage, have of the Sword ta'en hold.  
Turks, Arabs, Saracens, and the shame  
They go against of Heathen Deities,  
Only to know were to despise,  
As fit but with their Blood, their bordering Sea anew to name,  
A People naked, timo'rous, ignorant of War,  
That ne'er struck blow, but from a far,  
And only with their Arrows wound the bloodless Air,   

V.  Dunque hora è l tempo, etc. 
Now is the time, from our too patient Neck,  
That ancient Yoke, wherewith we ' are galled, to break,  
And from our Eyes the Veil to lay aside,  
Which both the Ene'mies' weakness, and our strength does hide.  
And now, my Friend, is an occasion seen,  
Wherein you may those Virtues show,  
Which part from Heaven you have, and part have gained below;  
The Trophies of your Tongue, and learned Pen  
Nor will it longer any Wonder be,  
Tho you of Orpheus, and Amphion read,  
Whose Songs tamed Beasts, and Stones did lead,  
When of your own a greater Miracle you see,  
And Men more Deaf, and Salvager than they,  
Led by your Skill, go where you point the Way.  
When Italy, awakened by the sound  
Of your loud Voice, and all her Sons around,  
Rise from their sleep, expecting that bright Day,  
When they ' may get him Laurels, who with Thorns was Crowned.  
ne'er had that Aged Mother yet,  
An opportunity so fair, her Sons a cause more great.   

VI  Tu è hai per arrichir, etc. 
Thou, who to ' enrich the Treasure of thy Brain,  
Hast many a flying Roll turned o'er,  
Of th' present Times, and those that went before,  
And on those Wings to Heaven aloft do●● soar,  
Seeing the Fates of Empires all beneath Thee plain;  
Full well Thou know'st how in the Roman State,  
From the first Day that Mars his Son,  
In Blood laid its Foundation,  
Till great Augustus, who thrice entered the triumphal Gate,  
Rome of Blood was ever free,  
And for the Wrongs her Alleys bore,  
Without regret that Sacrifice could see:  
And shall she now more sparing be,  
When stricter Bands, and sacred Piety,  
Expect, and challenge more,  
Her Saviour to revenge, and Sepul cher to restore?  
What help can Nature yield, or Art,  
Or what saint hopes enforce the Enemy's part,  
When from Christ's Hand is thrown the first & fatal Dart?   

VII.  Pon ment al temerario, etc. 
Think of Proud Xerxes' bold design,  
Who to approach and tread our Shore  
Europe and Asia, with a Bridge did join,  
And Seas an Outrage bore,  
Which Rivers only felt unwillingly before.  
The Persian Dames, who thought to Greet  
Their Husband's Victo'ries, and their Conquests meet,  
At their overthrow confounded stood,  
In Black they Mourned, and th' Hellespont triumphed in Blood.  
Nor is't this Naval Victory alone,  
Which like Success does promise you;  
But the unlucky Marathon,  
To th' Father so, as Thermopyle was to the Son,  
When brave Leonidas, with but a few,  
Maintained those Straits, and like a Lion flew,  
Or Eagle on the Prey, and did more than Subdue.  
With thousand Histories more,  
Which you●my Friend, have heard and read, and treasured up in store.  
Wherefore the least which you can do,  
Devoutly is that God to Praise,  
Who for such haypy Times, and hopes has cast your Days.   

Comiato.  

To Rome long since, and Tiber's Streams,  
Petrarch this Ode, when his, did recommend;  
To London now, and the more honoured Thames,  
Since thus made mine, I it abroad will send,  
(Where more judicious Spi'rits its numbers will attend,)  
And thence whole Christendom invite,  
All other Wars being thrown aside,  
In vain 'twixt Brethren for false Glory often tried,  
In an Eternal League to ' unite,  
And where the true may be ' easier gained, with Infidels to fight.    
1668.   

ODE. To the Right Reverend Father in God GEORGE Lord Bishop of Winton, my very good Lord. 
Out of Italian 〈◊〉 Fr. Petrarch, l. 1. Canz. 12.   

I.  una Donna piu bella. 
AFAIR, and Virtuous Dame,  
Bright as the Midday Sun, but more Divine,  
My tender Age first overcame,  
And made me to her part my Fortunes join.  
With thoughts uncommon she my Mind inspired,  
Then gave me Words their Image to express,  
Whilst the dull World judged me to sloth inclined,  
Or pitied, (which was worse) my Unhappiness,  
(For such it counts those gifts, which Heav● n-born Souls possess.)  
Through thousand ways she was my guide,  
And changing still from what I was,  
Tho her fair Eyes she with a Veil did hide,  
I felt their Influence through my Liver pass;  
So that for love of her I have undergone  
Such Hardships, and such Risks have run,  
That if at last I shall arrive  
At th' happy Port, I hope to live  
Beyond the power of Death, an Age, which She can give.   

II.  Questa mia Donna. 
'Twas many a Year, that thus She led me on,  
Big with Conceit, and Youthful Fire;  
For trial, as I since have known,  
If I'd prove constant to my first desire,  
Showing me now her Mantle, Shade, or Vest,  
But to my Fancy leaving all the rest:  
With which yet well enough content,  
My Youth I in her Service spent  
So pleasantly, that I can scarce the Time repent.  
At length, prevailed on by my Prayers,  
My Importunity, and Tears,  
Her Glories She was pleased to show;  
But then how little was't that I before did know?  
" 'Twas midnight with me sure, I said, till now.  
And with the sight there rose a storm of Cares,  
Amazed I at the Vision stood,  
Wished in my Arms, what yet I feared too good,  
A Flame was in my Heart, and Ice was in my Blood.   

III.  Ma non me'l tolse la paura. 
In this Surprise the heat I felt within  
Gave me new Courage, and did make me bold;  
Whilst the chill Fetters, which did hold  
My Captive Powers, to loosen did begin,  
And nearer I approached to ' admire her Beauties yet unseen.  
I came, and gazing stood, when she  
Turning to mine her Heavenly Face,  
" Now, Friend, that I am Fair, said, you may see,  
" Possibly Fairer than you guest I was,  
" I them sure more Powerful, for what ever now  
" Befits your Years but ask, and I'll bestow.  
" 'Tis a long time, Fair One, I said,  
" That on you only have I placed my love,  
" The Joys of which I here most truly prove,  
" With Air before, and empty Shadows fed;  
" But now so strangely smitte'n, that to require  
" Ought but your Pleasure, were my ' own ruin to desire.  
With a Voice then, and look Divine,  
Which chaseed my Fears, and did my Hope refine,  
In this most gracious Speech, she answered mine.   

IV.  Rado fu all mondo, etc. 
" In your mad World, and its Impertinence,  
" 'Tis rare, but when my Worth is heard,  
" The veriest Stock has felt some little sense,  
" And my just Service for a time preterred:  
" In love to me, and my rewards would burn;  
" Only my cruel Enemy,  
" That seeks what e'er I build to overturn,  
" Quenches the Flames I kindle with mine Eye,  
" And makes all Virtue die;  
" Promising largely, what he ne'er can grant,  
" Those Pleasures, and that ease he cries my Subjects want.  
" But Love, my Friend, has said so much of you,  
" And all he said I find so true,  
" That you henceforth my Charge shall be,  
" Unsought for Honours both to Gain, and Merit too.  
" One of my choicest Friends I'll style you now,  
" And as to such, a Fairer Lady show,  
" Than me you ' admire, where you more richly may your Love bestow.   

V.  I ' volea dir, etc. 
That can ne'er be, I was about to say,  
" When look she added to that Gallery,  
('Twas a large Terrace raised on High)  
" And if you can my words deny!  
" Such Beauties are not seen by all, nor every Day.  
I looked, but straight inclined my Head,  
With Wonder struck, and sacred Dread;  
I looked again, and felt within,  
A new, and greater Flame begin:  
Which as she saw her Railliery thus she dressed,  
" I well enough know where-about you are,  
" And as the Sun, when he doth first appear,  
" Makes every Star its twinkling ray divest,  
" Perceive my Eyes now seem less bright,  
" Since thus obscured by all greater Light;  
" Tho to be hers, you need not me to leave,  
" For to us both one Seed and Birth did being give,  
" She as the Elder first, than I did mine receive.   

VI  Ruppesi in tanto, etc. 
A Strain so sweet my Tongue unloosed,  
And fearing now no more the Shame  
I had conceived, upon my hasty Flame,  
Lest my first Love should deem herself abused,  
Thus I replied:" If this be true  
(" And who dare doubt it once, since said by you)  
" Thrice happy Father, and thrice happy Day,  
" In which you two into the World were brought!  
" And such from hence shall all that time be thought,  
" Which others tell I have fond thrown away.  
" 'Tis now my Trouble more,  
" Than e'er it was my Joy before,  
" That I reached here so late, or did no sooner stray.  
" But if I'm worthy, and 'tis fit to show  
" Of your Condition more than what I know,  
" A greater Honour you to none can ever do.  
Looking me then to th' very Heart,  
And with her Eye engraving there,  
What e'er she spoke, in a deep Character,  
Fixed and Composed she thus resumed her part.   

VII.  Si come piacque, etc. 
" Know then, 'twas our Eternal Father's Will,  
" That we, like Him, should both Immortal be;  
" But what 's all that to you the while?  
" Wretch's enamoured of your Slavery,  
" For whom 'twere better, that the fault were ours,  
" Of all the disrespect we find, than that 'tis only yours.  
" Courted and Loved we were of Old,  
" But now to such a Pass reduced,  
" That she to Heaven, and Contemplation used,  
" Has taken Flight to reach her ancient hold;  
" I stayed behind a while, but have been so abused,  
" That thither too I● ll escape e'er long,  
" And only where she gives the ground, inspire the Song:  
" For of myself I'm but her empty shade.  
Then turning as about to go,  
" But first receive as both our Gift, she said,  
" This Wreath, which we for you together made!  
And with her Hands she bound  
Immortal Bays, my Temples all around.   

Comiato.  
To FERNHAM, Song, I'd have thee go,  
Where thy great Patron at first sight will know  
Both what's thy Sense, and Mystery;  
Nor needs thou Him, as thou must others show,  
When they ask who these Virgins be,  
That one is sacred POESY,  
Th' other the Heavenly Maid, THEOLOGY:  
With whom thy Master long since deep in Love,  
And destitute of Friends,  
The fair One in his Suit to move,  
Thee on the Message to his Palace sends.  
Only remember thou his Leisure wait,  
And nor intrude too soon, nor stay too late!  
If He says thou art none of mine,  
And so to Petrarch more incline,  
Tell him our Thoughts were equal, as our Fate;  
And that there lacks one Spirit to Write, and to Translate.   
1668.   

Sonnet of the same.  Ad promotionem in S. S. Ordines. 
PRepare thy Chariot, Love, and heaviest Chain,  
That for my Muse's Sister, this for me,  
For I at length have got the Victory,  
And loaded thus must grace her pompous Train!  
I'm Conqueror, and the Arms, which did obtain  
The mighty Spoil, were Importunity,  
Freedom renounced, and sacred Vows to be  
Her Slave, o'er whom I should the Victory gain.  
Mysterious War! yet since thou dost delight,  
Great Love, thy Sovereignty to exercise  
In such unheard of Contrarieties,  
Lo! how I suit my entrance to the Fight:  
The Victor is in Chains led Captive Home,  
And she in Triumph Rides, who was o'ercome.   

ODE. The Apology. 
Out of Italian of Mr. Fr. Petrarcha lib. 2. canza. 7.   

I.  Quell antiquo mio, etc. 
CITING my old, and cruel Master, Love,  
Before that Queen, which holds our part Divine,  
And first descending from the Seats above,  
Ith' Brain enthron●d with Heavenly Light does shine,  
I showed myself like Gold, by Flames made fine.  
Loaded I came, with Horror, Grief, and Fear,  
Those heavy Chains my Jailor on me laid,  
As is a Wretch, who begs his Judge to hear,  
Tho Self-condemned, and of pale Death afraid,  
I bowed to th' Bar, and all in Tears thus said:  
" In an ill Hour, Great Queen, I touched the Land  
" Of this false Prince, where Rage, and Pride command;  
" And where, even from a Youth, I underwent  
" Such different Torments, that with Pain quite spent,  
" My Life seemed more a burden than delight,  
" And Patience was o'ercome, though next to Infinite.   

II.  Cosi ' l mia tempo, &c 
" In Pains, and Anguish, spending thus my Age,  
" How many Seasons did I, Fool, despise,  
" My self in Noble Studies to engage,  
" Whereby in Wealth I might, and Honour rise,  
" Deceived of both by empty Flatteries?  
" But where's the Wit that can such Words command,  
" And at its pleasure fit Expressions call,  
" That others may my Miseries understand,  
" And how I'm just to implead this Criminal?  
" How little Honey has Love, and how much Gall!  
" I tasted both, but both were tempered so,  
" The sweet above, the bitter lay below;  
" Seducing to fond Amours by surprise,  
" A Soul, if I mistake not, made to rise,  
" And up in Heavn Exalted look more fair:  
" Nor did Love only broke my Peace, but raised new War.   

III.  Questi m' ha fatto, etc. 
" My God, I'm sure, He less has made me love,  
" Ten thousand times less than a Creature ought;  
" Nor could I to myself more faithful prove,  
" While for a Mistress I by him was brought,  
" To slight compared with her all other thought.  
" Love was my Counsellor, that Enemy,  
" Whom here I charge, who ' exciting my desire,  
" Whilst all in vain I for Repose did cry,  
" Permitted me no leisure to respire,  
" But to assuage the burning brought more Fire.  
(" Alas!) what profit it to have a mind  
" By heavens best Gifts, and purest Flame refined,  
" Since though my Hairs, through Age I'm changing still,  
" I ne'er, O, ne'er can change my ' unruly Will;  
" Become to this fierce One so much a Slave,  
" By use, that it were Death my Liberty to have!   

IV.  Cercar my ha fatto, etc. 
" Strange Coasts he ' has made me seek, and Foreign Lands,  
" And thousand Perils blindly undergo;  
" Sometime by Robbers, sometime rolling Sands,  
" Ready to be devoured, rude Manners know,  
" And Pilgrim like no Guide my way to show.  
" Mountains I ' have past, and Vales, rough Storms, and Seas,  
" Treading on Snares, too close to be descried;  
" And in my wander, stranger than all these,  
" Have Winter seen on th' Wings of Summer ride,  
" With Dangers only running by my side.  
" But nor him, nor my other Enemy,  
" Could I by flight escape, or secrecy;  
" So that with Death if I unconquered strove,  
" The thanks are heavens, and none belong to Love.  
" This tyrant Love, who by my Grief revives,  
" Feeds on my Pain, and by my Torment only lives.   

V.  Poi che suo fui. 
" Not one free Hour, since his, have I enjoyed,  
" Nor hope to ' enjoy; even sleep from the sad Night  
" Is banished, and my former rest destroyed;  
" In vain by Herbs, or Charms, I seek my right,  
" For what by Fraud he ' has got, he keeps by Might.  
" Usurping Tyrant! and he knows 'tis true,  
" When I add further, my just Charge to swell,  
" The Darkness only did my Pain renew,  
" Nor wanted I, oft heard, times Passing-Bell,  
" Who by my Groans the weary Hours could tell.  
" What more? Gnawing he in my Breast does lie,  
" And long sought Death, does to th' assault defy;  
" Hence flow my Tears, and hence my Flames arise,  
" Hence my Complaints, and all those dolorous Sighs,  
" With which myself I tyre, and others too,  
" Great Queen, who know'st us both, between us Justice do!   

VI  Il mio Adversario. 
I spoke— but Love all in a rage replied,  
" Now t'other part, Great Queen, be pleased to hear!  
" The Truths which this Ingrate has sought to hide,  
" I to your Clemency will make appear,  
" And Sentence, till I ' have spoken too, forbear!  
" Know then this Wretch, with Mercenary Breath,  
" Not Words alone, but Lies had learned to sell;  
" Till I his Youth reclaimed, and from that Death,  
" Whither he was hasting, brought him sound, and well,  
" In pure Delights, sore ' against his Will to dwell.  
" I was his Guide, by me he first arrived  
" At th' happy Port, where he has safely lived;  
" And this he grieves, this he calls Misery,  
" And all tho●● unsought Favours shown by me;  
" A Fame, which by his Birth he ne'er had gained,  
" Till I who raised his Wit, that Honour too obtained.   

VII.  Ei sa che'l grande Atride. 
" He knows that Menelaus, and Achilles too,  
" And Anibal, and a greater than all these,  
" The mighty Scipio I did once subdue,  
" And after all their Wars, enslaved in Peace,  
" Giving them Waiting-Maids for Mistresses.  
" But for him Wretch, a Love so sacred chose,  
" And of a Million so beyond compare,  
" That Heaven alone such sublimed Beauties knows,  
" This World has nothing half so bright, or fair,  
" Not Rome itself, though its Lucrece were there.  
" Nor was this all, but gave withal a Voice,  
" And of Harmonious Numbers so great choice,  
" Such skill to Sing, that nothing base, or low,  
" ere reached his Thoughts, except his Malice now.  
" These my Deceits were, these my Flatteries,  
" For which I'm charged, which other, would as Honour's prize.   

VIII.  Questo fu il fell, etc. 
" This was the Gall, these the Disdains and Ire,  
(" Favours too great to be so soon forgot)  
" By which I kindled the most sacred Fire;  
" But see the Blaze my Labour answers not,  
" Who for a thankless Man thus long have wrought.  
" If under me he has the Skill attained,  
" To Ravish all, who do his Numbers hear,  
" If with the Good, he such Respect has gained,  
" And with the Great, that to ' him they Deference bear,  
" How high so ere he Soared, I fixed him there.  
" Till now perchance some servile Wretch he ' had been,  
" A Brawler at some Bar, without esteem;  
" But I first raised him, made him first be known,  
" Nor were those Arts he Riots in, his own,  
" But in my School he first procured the Grace,  
" And then from her, who next me his great Mistress was.   

IX.  E per dir all extremo, etc. 
" Yet last of all, hear his grand Slavery,  
" And you will think he ' has reason to complain:  
" From thousand Chains of Vice I set him free,  
" By Her, whose Favour he could never gain  
" By any Act, which had the smallest stain.  
" Temperate, and Modest in design and deed,  
" Since a Liege Man of hers, he still has been;  
" Who with great thoughts his abject Soul did feed,  
" And of herself i'th' Cure threw so much in,  
" That to be her like he did straight begin.  
" What e'er he boasts then, worthy Praise or Fame,  
" From us the Spoilers of his Fortune came;  
" But ne'er was Dream so wild, or humorous,  
" To itself so strange, as he has been to us;  
" For though by us he's known to God, and Man,  
" The Happiness he or reputes, or does disdain.   

X.  Anchor & questo è qual, etc. 
" There's one thing more, which all the rest outdoes,  
" I gave him Plumes to mount above the Skies,  
" By Mortal things, which, to the Man who knows  
" The Learning, like a Towering Pyramid,  
" To the first Maker by degrees arise;  
" For seeing well how great, and wondrous fair,  
" Virtue in her, whom he adored did shine,  
" From thence he might too ' himself present the Air,  
" By Heavenly Vision, of the Cause Divine,  
" As himself sings, and proves this Charge of mine.  
" But I'm forgot now, and with me that Dame  
" I gave him, to support his Life, and Fame.  
Whereat I shrieked, and answered, though in pain:  
" Well might he give, who took her soon again.  
" Not I, but God, from whom She first did come,  
" He smartly turned, with him would have her live at Home.  
1967.   

XI.  Al fin ambo, etc. 
— Then pressing both to th' Bar,  
I trembling, clamorous he, and over rude,  
Both of us did in one Request conclude:  
" Great Queen, we wait what Sentence you will give.  
On both she smiled, but did us both deceive;  
" Pleased with your Plead are we, she replied,  
" But it requires more time your Difference to decide.    

BALLAD.  
Profane Love.  

LOVE is a Net, and Love's a Snare,  
A Thief disguised is Love;  
Poison below, Honey above,  
A Serpent under Flowers most fair,  
Fatal as Death, whose bitings are:  
A Whirl-pool sounded ne'er to be,  
And a soul Sea from Tempests never free.   

Love is a Lion robbed of his Prey,  
A Wolf with Famine pined;  
Love is a Fortress undermined,  
A Fire, whose flames no Floods allay;  
Flattery, which does our Life betray;  
A Labrinth pleasant to the Eye,  
But without Clew to guide the wanderer by.   

Love is a ●●ck of Ambushments,  
A weeping Crocodile;  
A Siren used to Sing, and Spoil,  
And all the Lovers false Contents,  
Are Frauds which he too late resents:  
Love's an incurable Disease,  
And War eternal mid vain boasts of Peace.   

Dirupisti, Domine, vincula mea,  
Tibi hostiam laudis Sacrificabo!    

SONNET. Love's Exaltation. 
Out-of-Spanish.   
ENLARGE Thy flight, Love, said I, and on high  
Raise my dull Soul, those Beauties to admire,  
Which in the Heavenly Treasuries do lie,  
And Mortal Breasts with holy Flame inspire!  
Show me the Spring of that Celestial Fire,  
Designed our Earthy Dross to purify,  
But after which in vain below we ' inquire,  
Who sit down i'th' warm Sun of a fair Eye!  
So up he raised me, but no Tongue can tell,  
What I in Rapturous Vision did behold:  
My Love I found was Pure, and made me bold:  
This only I remember very well,  
So high we soared, till on an Arch above,  
I saw inscribed, SACRED TO HEAVENLY LOVE.   

ODE. The Thoughts. 
Out of the Italian of Fr. Petrarch, l. 1. Canz. 21.   

I.  I'vo pensando, etc. 
FULL of strange Thoughts, and pensive as I go,  
A tenderness, which to myself I owe,  
So strongly does my Mind assail,  
And so insensibly prevail,  
That all in Tears I flow,  
But for my own misfortune now,  
And not another's Cruelty, as I was wont to do.  
For seeing every Day my end draw nigh,  
A thousand times of God I've begged those Wings,  
With which from this lewd World, and Mortal things,  
Th' unpinioned Soul to Heaven does fly;  
And beg still, but he does the Grace deny.  
And though I Sigh, and Grieve, and Pray,  
That Happiness does countermand;  
But reason 'tis, that he, who will not upright stand,  
When 'tis in his own Power, or wilfully must stray,  
Low as the Earth should lie, and never find his way.  
I see, 'tis true, th' Eternal Arms extended wide,  
But my own Fear, and others Fate,  
Who have deferred till 'twas too late,  
Make me tremble at my present state.  
Another Tyrant too beside,  
Whom oft to throw, in vain I oft have tried,  
Furiously spurs me on. (Ah!) Whither will he ride?   

II.  L'un pensier parla, etc. 
But (Lo!) what thoughts my mind assault.  
And how to it thus One roundly says;  
" Why, foolish Thing, why these delays?  
" What lookt-for Succour causes such an Alt?  
" Seest thou not how the winged Minutes pass,  
" And add more Years to thy Disgrace,  
" And yet thy help as far to seek, as e'er it was?  
" Take, rather take thy last Farewell,  
" And do it quickly; every Root destroy  
" Of fruitless Pleasure, which couldst thou enjoy  
" In its Perfection, for it thou must sell  
" Thy Soul, and Liberty, and in an hurry dwell.  
" But since thou ne'er canst that expect,  
" And in the toilsome quest art tired,  
" Of what so much admired,  
" Yet which the glozing World, when it does thee neglect,  
" May to an He as ill deserving give,  
" Why as fixed here dost thou live,  
" And midst rude Wars, and giddy Vanity,  
" Hope for Peace and Constancy?  
" Now while thou mayst dare to be Wise!  
" In thine own hand keep fast the Rein!  
" And since thou must begin again,  
" Stop, and turn back, the Road behind thee lies.  
" 'tis hazardous thou know'st too long to stay,  
" And till to Morrow leave, what's better done to Day.   

III.  Gia sai tu ben, etc. 
" Long since Thou hast been taught, nor art thou now  
" To learn, what Happiness, and Content,  
" From the fairest Eyes are sent  
" To ' n Heart, that does the Charms of Beauty know.  
" But what think'st Thou both had been,  
" What Thy Content, and Happiness,  
" The greater Glory, and the less,  
" If those fair Eyes had ne'er been seen,  
" And in their stead another Flame had entered in?  
" Thou well remember'st, (and 'tis well thou dost)  
" How their Image seized thee first,  
" And thy Heart like Lightning pierced,  
" Where it was so much Lord of all the Coast,  
" So fatally did overcome,  
" That none for other Loves it left, scarce for itself had room.  
" With that thou first wert set on fire,  
" And if its wild fallacious heat,  
" Has held thee many Years with vain desire,  
" And expectation of what ne'er was yet,  
" Nor ere may come, (that joyful Day  
" Which should thy Mise'ries end, and largely for thy waiting pay,)  
(" For none so silily themselves undo  
" As Lovers, and so thanklesly if Poets too)  
" Why dost thou not to a better hope thy Soul advance,  
" And heavens Immortal Glories view?  
" For if one Smile, one pleasing Glance,  
" A Song dear purchased, one kind word or two,  
" The price of Love can here enhance,  
" What will those Heavenly Beauties do;  
" And how great must the Pleasure be above,  
" Where they do ever Sing, and where they ever Love!   

IV.  Dam l' altra parte. 
On t'other side, a different thought,  
With a sharp, but pleasing pain,  
Of Hope and Fear together wrought,  
Makes me love it, but complain.  
For while with Hope it feeds my Heart,  
And proffers Fame to crown desert,  
The Fear I can despise, and dare the cruel smart.  
Insensible it almost renders me,  
Of all but its dear self insensible,  
The effects of Study I ne'er feel  
How hot or cold, how pale so ere I be;  
Nor will one Death to kill 't suffice,  
One Death to end its Tyrannies,  
Since throughly slain, it does with greater vigour only rise.  
When but a Child, as a Child with me it played,  
Just like myself, and as I grew increased;  
Nor will 't I fear permit me any rest,  
Till in one Tomb we be together laid.  
Dead with my Body, there 'twill lie,  
Nor any further with me go;  
And than what signifies this Fame, if I  
Its best Report can never know?  
Since there must once a parting be,  
And away the Shade will flee  
For the true substance I'll leave it, ere that leave me.   

V.  Ma quel' altro voler. 
But (Oh!) that Passion like my Soul,  
Which in each part is all, and all i'th' whole,  
And as a great, and spreading Root,  
To ' itself the moisture draws, and starves the Ground about,  
How does it Vex, and Torture me,  
When I my Pride, and Folly see,  
My Ignorance, and Vanity,  
Of others writing still, so mindless of myself to be!  
Those Eyes I mean, whose heavy Chain,  
My captive Will does so restrain,  
That Art and Force to break it I employ in vain.  
What then, though my spread Sails are filled,  
And that prepared I for the Voyage am,  
If yet my Bark midst Rocks is held,  
By two such Cables, Love, and Fame?  
But Thou, my God, who from those other Bands,  
With which the sottish World 's held fast,  
Long since my freedom Ransomed haste;  
Why hear not these Thy great Commands,  
And lose the Prisoner, who with shame confounded stands?  
Abashed I stand, and like a Man at Night,  
Assaulted in his Dreams, with Death's grim sight,  
Fain would resist, but want both words to speak, and Arms to fight.   

VI  Quell ch' i fo veggio, etc. 
I well enough know what I ought to do,  
Nor does the Ignorance of what is true,  
At all deceive me; but this Love,  
With which so mise'rably I am oppressed,  
Tho all his, and my ' own Follies I reprove,  
Too much, and much too long of me possessed,  
Permits me not one step to move,  
And the true Honours shiny Path intent above.  
Yet now and then there does begin,  
Something, I know not what, to strive within;  
A cruel and severe Disdain,  
Thus for ever to remain,  
And where of all it may be read again,  
This secret thought writes in my Forehead plain.  
" What can more unmorthy be,  
" The Man, who does to th' fairest Prize aspire,  
" Than towards Mortal things to be on fire,  
" With the same Flame that only fits the Deity?  
Nor does it thus alone, but cries aloud  
To my Reason, drawn aside,  
And behind my Senses hid;  
Reason obeys, and straight condemns what it allowed.  
But as I'm thinking back to go,  
Custom does, or make me stay,  
Or leads me to some other way;  
I gaze, and that does show  
The brightest Eyes, e'er shone below,  
But born alas for my incurable Disease,  
For too much me, too much their cruel selves they please   

VII.  Ne so che spatio mi, etc. 
How long, or short the space may be,  
Which when into this World I first came down,  
By heavens Arrest was granted me,  
To undergo Wars misery,  
And all those pains, which from myself have grown,  
I know as little, as I do the Time,  
When this wretched Life shall end;  
For both are Mysteries too sublime,  
And Mortal knowledge far transcend.  
But this I know, and daily find,  
That all without, and all within  
My Body 's changed, and so 's my Mind.  
Grey Hairs appear, nor is th' End far behind  
When to approach these Harbingers begin.  
Like a Man therefore, who much Ground and Day has lost  
But wiser made at length by his cost.  
I'm thinking oft to take the Right Hand way,  
Where I see my Journey lay,  
And which when first I left, I first began to stray:  
But Grief and Shame to have truanted so long,  
Hold my one half, Pleasure does t'other seize,  
Pleasure through Custom grown so strong,  
That it with Death dare stand on terms for War or Peace.   

Comiato.  
SONG, thou seest me as I am,  
And me more than thou Petrarch sawst of old,  
With an Heart than Ice more cold,  
ne'er to be thawed I fear by any Flame,  
But that which in ' its embrace the Universe shall hold.  
Yet (Lo!) I am resolved again,  
Once more the great Experiment to try,  
Tho ne'er lived Man in so much pain,  
With Death, or in his Heart, or Eye.  
But this my Trouble does renew,  
That what I would, I cannot do,  
And what I hate and would not, that I vigorously pursue.  
1668.    

SONNET. Convertimento á Dio. 
Out of Italian of Mr. Fr. Petrarc. Sonnet 59   Io son sistanco sotto ' l, etc. 
TIRED, and almost overcome with th' heavy weight,  
Of my old Sins, by Custom grown so strong,  
I'm fearful, lest Life's way being rough and long,  
I from it turn, by my own, or Foes deceit.  
I have a Friend 'tis true, that from heavens height,  
Came down to free me, and redress my Wrong,  
Of love he came, but quickly ' amidst the throng  
I lost him, whose return in vain I wait;  
Upwards he flew, and flying thus did cry,  
" Burdened and weary Souls, behold your Way  
" Hither, come hither to me, and find Rest!  
What Grace, what Love, my Lord, what Destiny,  
Will give me a Doves wings, on which I may  
Mount from this Earth, and be of Heaven possessed?   

SONNET, To the same Purpose. 
Out of the same P●●r. Sonnet 76.   Poi che voi & io piu uòlte, etc. 
SINCE you and I, my Friend, so oft have proved,  
How false our Hopes, and full of Vanity,  
To that best Good at length thy Heart apply,  
Which still the more 'tis known, the more 'tis loved!  
The present Life 's a Field, till thus improved,  
In which midst Flowers an hidden Snake does lie,  
And though its Verdure please the wanton Eye,  
Death from th' unwary Foot 's not far removed.  
Would you then have a Mind at last secure,  
And endless Joys, in which thou mayst persever,  
Follow the Few, to them thy Steps inure,  
And all thou canst to leave the most endeavour!  
Brother, you teach well, but yourself first sure,  
Who oft have strayed, yet more of late than ever.   

SONNET. To the now Mrs. M. W. under the feigned Name of Iärma, with the Parable of the Pilgrim.  
ATEDIOUS Age, I like this Pilgrim spent,  
In search of that fair Place, where Heaven designed,  
I should an end of all my Travels find;  
But still I strayed the more, the more I went,  
I strayed till Clelia in a Vision sent  
Illustrious Rays, diffused o'er all my Mind,  
And made me see the Way lay far behind,  
Whose entrance was my Wander to Repent,  
She told me what Companions I should take,  
How Resolution and Humility,  
And Faith and Charity I should provide,  
If I a prosperous Journey hopeed to make.  
But where dear Clelia do these Grace's lie?  
Iärma has them all, make her your Guide.  
1666.   

SONNET. To the Reverend Mr. J. G.  
TO GOD, it is, my Friend, and you I owe,  
What I have been the twenty Years that last,  
In various Changes o'er my Head have past,  
And forty more, if Heaven shall on me throw;  
How good so ere I by that time may grow,  
(For Great I wish not, and who makes less haste?)  
To your account shall be at th' Audit placed,  
Who Virtues Path by few trod, mad'st me know,  
And timely didst my wand'ring Youth reclaim,  
By Grave Advice, though not so reckoned then,  
(The more my Folly) how e'er it has been since;  
But when the Spirit Divine to blow begins,  
What Boys we scorned, we follow close grown Men,  
And the kind Warner have in greatest Fame.   

SONNET. On the Picture of our LORD, represented on the Cross as Dead. 
The Hint out of the Italian of Mar●no.   Pietoso quanto accorto, etc. 
SOMETHING there was, Great Master, more than chance  
That Thou the Pencils Wonders to express,  
And therein Thy more wondrous Hands address,  
Tookst my Dead Lord, the Colours to advance.  
Pity directed Thee that Choice to make,  
And (having in Thy Pious Breast designed,  
To show how rude the Jews, Thyself how kind)  
His Pale and Lifeless Form resolve to take,  
'Twas nobly done; for hadst Thou made him breathe,  
Ever in Torment he had seemed to live,  
And from Thy Hands a greater Wound receive.  
Than all their Cruelty contrived in his Death,  
For such Thy Picture is, now he inclines his Head,  
That he would Groan, and Speak, but that he's Dead.   

St. Paul done by Titian. A Madrigal. 
Out of Italian.   
DEAD to the World, and far from Heaven removed,  
Longed for by him so much, and so much loved  
The blessed Paul, while here,  
Did really as Dead appear,  
But in Thy Colours, Titian, looks so warm and clear:  
So Mortified, and yet so full of Life,  
That the most curious need not be at strife,  
But confidently swear,  
If they could both together see,  
The true with this designed by Thee:  
(Such breathing Strokes do from Thy Pencil fall)  
Live Paul's the Draught, Thy Draught the living Paul.  
1668.   

SONNET. The Vanity of thinking to get Fame by Rhyming.  
WHAT dost Thou, Man, what thinkst Thou, to what end  
Of old Bards emulous, and their ancient Praise,  
In Rhyming spendst Thou all Thy Strength and Days,  
Nor ever what's of more concern intend?  
Fame which Thou courtest never did commend  
Of true Desert, or if she does, delays  
Till' it be too late; no Monument does raise  
But to along since dead, or dying Friend.  
And Thou, if Thou desir'st that Friend to be,  
What art the better for it in the Grave,  
Thither Thy Fame will never follow Thee,  
Nor with the Dead shalt Thou more Honour have  
For Verse, than if Thou Verse hadst never known,  
The Living will not, Dead can give Thee none.   

SONNET. To give o'er Rhyming, and fall to Business.  
AS I one Day did of my Fate complain,  
And to Loves Charge the great Occasion laid,  
Recounting all the Ways I had assayed  
A Name, or Fortune in the World to gain,  
And still to ' obtain it strive, but all in vain.  
Ah! sottish Wretch, with Rage and Scorn, he said,  
Me with Thy Artless Follies to upbraid,  
When Thou alone art cause of all Thy Pain.  
Go, and to Business, Man Thyself present,  
Business, the noblest Mistress tho ' it be late,  
Who many Servants has, and more will take,  
Rhyming and Modesty ne'er got Estate,  
Or Name, or Fortune, 'tis the Confident  
And Busy carry ' all.— Love I did mistake.   

ODE. To the Right Reverend Father in God JOHN, late Lord Bishop of Chester, upon his Promotion thither.  

I.  
FAIR Seminary of the Flourishing Arts,  
Great Wadhams bounteous Legacy,  
The last result of heaven-born Charity,  
Who mounting thither from these Frozen parts,  
Designed Thee with an high intent,  
To be both Hers, and Thy own Pious Founder's Monument,  
Thee, WADHAM, first of all I sing,  
Where in soft Verse I learned the early Skill,  
(Ah! that one so well Disciplined should rehearse so ill,  
And have for all Thy care no better Strains to bring!)  
Thee, sacred College, who dost rise,  
Like a new Zion, to the North  
Of th' Muse's City, with Thy Wings stretched forth,  
And in their Kingdom hast her Royalties,  
(OXFORD, the brightest City ' and Kingdom, which the Muses have)  
Small as thou art, but wondrous brave,  
Both Peacefully there to Command,  
And send abroad Thy 
* The Right R. R. Dr. SETH Ward, Bishop of Saram. Dr. WALTER ●landford, Warden of Wadham, Bishop of Worcester. Dr. JOHN Wilkins, ●arden also of Wadham, Bishop of Chester.  Fathers through our Land,  
Thee, I, though far unworthy, Greet,  
And at Thy Gates, as does a Son befit,  
To lead him to his Stall with Songs, Thy late great Guardian meet.   

II.  
With Thee, my Song, in Thee this happy Man,  
Whilst only Thine, a bold Attempt began,  
Whose Fame Posterity shall ne'er let die,  
But thence itself instructed how to live,  
Due Honours to the first Discoverer give,  
And Consecrate his Name to Vast Eternity.  
A bold Attempt it was, worthy this Age,  
And Him, whom Heaven did with the thought Inspire,  
(Yet which this Age can ne'er enough Admire,  
How full so e'er of Art, and Learned Rage,)  
In Nature's search alone, and bravely to engage.  
At Home he sought, but there  
Only some Traces of his Footsteps were.  
For though with Him she long Inhabited,  
And lay in his Retreats secure,  
Seen but of few, once urged, could not endure  
A public Scrutiny, and at the News away she stead.  
He followed close, and lodged her in the Town;  
LONDON, that was so big, and populous grown,  
She hoped, or there to hide, or there to pass unknown,  
And midst the Multitude,  
The Noise, the Hurry, and the Crowd,  
As safely breath, as in a Solitude.   

III.  
But all in vain, He quickly found Her out,  
And having Summoned to his Aid,  
The Wise, the Learned, and the Stout,  
(All noted Champions, and in Wars assayed)  
What was before a search to Arms Decision brought.  
Levies on both Hands listed were,  
And Nature, then Attaqu't, began to fear;  
But like a Conqueror, and ne'er known to yield,  
To be Obeyed, and not Compelled,  
Led up herself her Troops into the Field.  
A mighty Host they made, Encamped wide,  
And with their Wings touched Heaven on either side.  
Against which a little Party, reinforced  
I●y Reason, and Experience,  
Approved Arms, for Battery, and Defence,  
Both often Tried, and not alone Discoursed,  
Came boldly forth, and did Defiance bid;  
But in the others shouts were drowned, and in the others Numbers hid,   

IU.  
And now both Sides had joined the Fight,  
One to maintain, t'other their Conquests to extend;  
When, (look!) between the Camps, a glorious sight,  
The British Gardian-Angel clothed in Light,  
Did on an Azure Cloud descend,  
And to the baleful Quarrel with his Presence put an end.  
He came, but not i'th' Shape he takes above,  
For that 's a Form too subtle, and too great,  
With its excessive Lustre Mortal Eyes did threat,  
And in his Fellow Spirits dreadful Wonder move,  
But like the Warriors to whom he was sent,  
And suiting th' Embassy, on which he went,  
The Faith's DEFENDER, heavens best Charge did represent,  
In Rings of Polished Jet, so shone his Hair,  
A Colour that in Heaven is rare,  
But yet in Heaven admired, for such the Almighty Son does wear.  
Over his glittering Arm was thrown,  
A Military Crim'som Vest;  
Close by its Breast his Sword hung down,  
And did in his Embroidered Scabbard rest.  
His Left Hand held a Silver Shield,  
Charged with three Leopards, in a Canton of the Field.  
Two shiny Talbots in his Right he led,  
Such as are in the Heavenly Forests bred,  
And o'er his Godlike Head,  
An Eagle her extended Wings auspiciously did spread.   

V.  
" Give o'er, He said, give o'er your Rage,  
" A better Fortune both your Arms attends;  
" Nor let it be reported, i'th' next Age,  
" That furious zeal, and unknown Ends,  
" In Civil Wars destroyed the best and dearest Friends!  
" For such you are, and by the High Decree,  
" Shall with united force those Trophies raise,  
" Over Mankind's common Enemy,  
" Proud Ignorance, and blind Credulity,  
" As shall gain both deserved Praise,  
" And fetch from Worlds as yet unknown for both Immortal Bays.  
" You NATURE, and 'tis God's Command, not mine,  
" To these shall all your Store submit;  
" Whose Industry, with Skill shall join,  
" To search, Improve, and Husband it.  
" Together Reconciled you shall abide,  
" My CHARLES' shall of his Goodness so provide,  
" Who will your FOUNDER, and your PATRON be,  
" Call you the ROYAL, and his own SOCIETY:  
" And of his special Grace to th' new Erected Company,  
" With you his rich Hereditary Coat divide,  
(" As on this Shield:) If any Doubt arise  
" In your Inquests, Lo! heavens and thy Supplies,  
" These TALBOTS scent, that EAGLES Wings, and Eyes.   

VI  
But whither Muse, Ah! whither wilt thou rove?  
Already thou hast strayed enough,  
And in thy wild unruly Flight,  
Forgot thy Reverend Prelate quite,  
And lost of thy first Theme the sight.  
He's gone, but if thou haste dost make,  
And haste thou oughtest, for my sake, and thine own,  
And in his Learned Train make one,  
His Learned Train, thou quickly mayst o'ertake:  
And e'er he Chester reach, so slow,  
So heavily his Wheels do go,  
(Yet not from His, but Friends delay,  
Who wish him there, but yet with them would have him stay)  
Be ready with the Ancient Dee,  
(dye in praise will join with Thee)  
His Entrance to attend, and Installation see.   

VII.  
Hail! Sacred Stream, Prophetic Flood,  
Who couldst of Old the Fates of Nations tell;  
The Fates of Nations now Thou skill'st as well,  
As when Thy Channel leaving Thou didst bode  
Their Misery, ' or their Happiness ere either fell.  
For this 'twas that thou got'st the Name  
Of Dee the Holy, and Divine,  
And amongst Rivers of the loudest Fame,  
As rich in Wonders, and illustriously dost Shine.  
To whom all else Renowned,  
And with Genial Honours Crowned,  
Or for their pleasant Banks, or Water's pride,  
And little Mysteries, which they're said to hide,  
All but the Starry Thames, above  
Eridan falsely called, their Places yield:  
And in the Ocean's boundless Field,  
Where every Night they meet, in a long Row behind thee move.  
Worthy thou art, thrice worthy of my Song;  
And worthy Thee, in all Thy Glory,  
The Man we both admire, of both expected long,  
My Numbers to advance, and to revive Thy Story.   

VIII.  
Till He was Thine, something there was did want,  
To render Thee complete:  
The Colony Rome on thy Banks did Plant,  
Made Thee not half so great,  
Nor is itself so famous for Agricola's, as his Seat.  
His happy River, whose vast Spring  
Of Real Goodness, and of Learned Arts the best,  
A new increase shall to Thy Waters bring;  
Joining with which they ne'er shall rest,  
Till they those Triumphs end, which EDGAR on thee did begin.  
" Well ●ow'd my Braves, the British Monarch cried,  
As at the Helm Victoriously He stood,  
His Tributary Kings on either side,  
(Eight Tributary Kings at th' Oar then plied)  
Tugging to waft him down the Flood▪  
Tiber did never Day so glorious see,  
Nor could Augustus, in such State,  
After his Alexandrian Victory,  
Enter Rome's Triumphal Gate;  
He the Effigies had to show  
But of one Queen, and her ta'en, when Dead too.  
EDGAR Throned Kings had Eight,  
All in their Robes, on him to wait,  
And all with Crowns upon their Heads his Barge to row.   

L'Envoy.  
At Chester, Song, Thou wilt behold  
The Wonders, which Thou here has told;  
But let not all Thy Time be spent,  
In a search too inquisitive;  
Find out the Reverend Father there, to whom thou'rt sent,  
And humbly at his Knees receive  
That Blessing, which returned thou mayst thy Master give!  
So shalt Thou into Credit grow,  
And have from him that Honour, Verse on others must bestow.    

To the Honourable Sir JOHN DENHAM, upon his New Version of the Psalms.  

I.  
'tWAS but of late, that in our Northern Clime,  
Verse, which had many Ages been a Slave,  
Regained its freedom, and tho bound to Rhyme,  
The Tyrant's, which had humbled it, did Brave.   

II.  
Fettered before in gross Impertinence,  
And by strange Monsters forced, it Prisoner lay;  
Whose Strength was big swollen Words, and empty sense,  
And all the Cheats, which Ignorance betray.   

III.  
To make Vile Anagrams, was its best Art▪  
And lewdly then to descant on the Text;  
Whose Gloss was evermore the dullest part,  
And all the Wit to seem, and be perplexed.   

IV.  
Then motley Metaphors at length stole in,  
And that the Poet might his Treasures boast;  
Rubies and Pearls were in each couplet seen,  
And a poor Sonnet would an Empire cost.   

V.  
But still the Sun to th' hardest Task was pressed▪  
And wearied with his Journey all Day long,  
I'th' Sea at Night enjoyed but confused rest,  
For less the World could want him than a Song.   

VI  
These were the Vices captive Verse obeyed,  
With thousand worse, to which it did submit;  
Till you the Enemy's weakness open laid,  
And to its ancient Grandeur ransomed it.   

VII.  
'Twas you, great Sir, who like the Redcros● Knight,  
To save the Damsel Poesy, arose;  
Like him did with th' Enchanted Dragon fight,  
And made her Reign a Queen, amidst her Foes.   

VIII.  
Wit from your Pen, was quite another thing,  
Than what the Ignorant imagined it;  
And in your manner skilfully to Sing,  
More than to make rich Rhymes, and Noises hit.   

IX.  
'twas Manly, Grave, and full of sprit'ely Fire,  
The same that it was sixteen Centuries past;  
Able the very Reader to inspire,  
And whose fixed Monument shall ever last.   

X.  
But sacred Poesy lay all this while  
Scorned, or Neglected, as it was before;  
As if it were no Sacrilege to spoil,  
But what from God was once Robbed, to restore.   

XI.  
Any thing for the Temple would suffice,  
No matter how ill dressed the Service were;  
To th' Institution it did nearer rise,  
More like th' unpolisht Altar, and Goats Hair.   

XII.  
Waiting your help it lay, who to redeem  
The Credit, which it long unjustly lost;  
Have raised it to a more enlarged esteem,  
Loved of the best, and Courted by the most.   

XIII.  
From you the Jewish Psalmist has received  
The latest Glory, which he could expect;  
And all, who at his barbarous Sufferings grieved,  
With Pleasure on them thus expired reflect.   

XIV.  
You were that Worthy, for whom all did look,  
To ' attempt, and execute this bold Design;  
Nor was there other Way, than what you took,  
By Humane Poesy, to restore Divine.   

XV.  
For as i'th' Revolutions of Great States,  
Civility Religion did produce;  
The Muse's Kingdoms too have born like Fates▪  
By ' you first made Civil, then Religious.   

L'Envoy.  
Full often, Song, I've grieved, thou staydst at Home,  
Nor kiss'dst those Hands for which thou wert designed;  
Sure hadst Thou ever to His Presence come,  
The known He ' had loved, who to th' unknown was kind  
1668.    

To Mr. Isaac Walton, Publishing the Life of Mr. George Herbert. ODE.  

I.  
heavens youngest Son, its Benjamin,  
Divinities next Brother, Sacred Poesy,  
No longer shall a Virgin reckoned be,  
(What e'er with others 'tis, how e'er called so by me)  
A Female Muse, as were the Nine,  
But full of Vigour Masculine,  
An Essence Male, with Angels in shared Glories join  
With Angels first the Heavenly Child was bred,  
And, while a Child, instructed them to Sing  
The Praises of th' Immortal King,  
Who Lucifer in Triumph led.  
For as in Chains the Monster sank to Hell,  
And tumbling Headlong down the Precipice fell,  
By Him well showed and tutored well,  
" How art Thou fallen, Morning Star, they said!  
Too fond then we ' have fancied him a Maid,  
We the vain Brethren of the Rhyming Trade,  
A Female Angel less would Rafaels' skill upbraid.   

II.  
Thus 'twas in Heaven, this Poesy's Sex and Age,  
And when He thence to our lower World came down,  
He chose a Form most like his own,  
And Jesses youngest Son inspired with holy Rage,  
The sprightly Shepherd felt unusual Fire,  
And up he took his Tuneful Lyre;  
He took it up and struck ' it, and ' his own soft touches did admire.  
Thou Po'esy on Him didst bestow,  
An Honour showed before to none;  
And to prepare his Way to th' Hebrew Throne,  
Gave'st him Thy Empire, and Dominion:  
The happy Land of Verse, where slow  
Rivers of Milk, and Groves of Laurel grow;  
Wherewith Thou didst adorn his Brow,  
And mad'st his first most flourishing, & Triumphal Crown.  
Assist me Thy great Prophets Praise to Sing;  
David the Poets, and blessed Israel's King,  
And with the dancing Echo let the Mountain's ring!  
Then on the Wings of some auspicious Wind,  
Let His great Name from Earth be raised on High,  
And in the Starry Volume of the Sky,  
A lasting Record find;  
Be with His mighty Psaltery joined,  
Which taken up long since into the Air,  
And called the Harp, makes a bright Constellation there!   

III.  
Worthy it was to be Translated hence,  
And there in view of all Exalted hang,  
To which so oft the Princely Prophet sang,  
And sacred Ora'cles did dispense;  
Tho had it still remained below,  
More Wonders of it, we e'er now had seen,  
How great the mighty Herbert's Skill had been:  
Herbert, who could so much without it do,  
Herbert who perfectly its Chords did know,  
More perfectly than any Child of Verse does now.  
Ah! had we known him half so well!  
But then, my Friend, there had been left for you,  
Nothing so fair, and worthy Praise to undergo,  
Who so exactly all his Story tell,  
That, though we envy not his Bays,  
Nor all the Pyramids Verse can raise,  
Your Hand, and Pen we do, that eternize his Praise.  
Herhert, and Donn again are joined,  
Here below, as they ' are above;  
The Friends are in their old Embraces twined:  
And since by you that Interview 's designed,  
Too weak to part them Death does prove,  
But in one Book they greet again, as in one Heaven they love.   

L'Envoy.  
To Wotton too, my Song,  
A kind remembrance Thou dost owe,  
With my Friends Name, who made Thee know  
This great Triumvirate of Verse; but long  
Too long, I fear, Thou then wouldst be,  
If not o're-born, with th' mighty subjects Dignity.    

To the same Mr. Is. Wa. upon the Publication of the Reverend Mr. Richard Hooker's Life. ODE.  

I.  
HAIL, Sacred Mother, British Church, all hail▪  
From whose fruitful Loins have sprung,  
Of Pious Sons so great a throng,  
That Heaven to ' oppose their force of Strength does fail,  
And lets the mighty Victors, o'er Almighty Arms prevail.  
How art Thou changed from what Thou wert of late,  
When destitute, and quite forlorn,  
And scarce a Child of thousands with Thee left to mourn,  
Thy Veil all rent, and all Thy Garments torn,  
With Tears Thou didst bewail Thine own, and children's Fate?  
Too much (alas!) Thou didst resemble then,  
Zion Thy Type, Zion in Ashes laid,  
Despised, forsaken, and betrayed.  
Zion Thou dost resemble once again,  
And raised like her, the Glory of the World art made.  
Threnes to Thee only could that time belong,  
But now Thou art the happy subject of my Song.   

II.  
Begin, my Song, and where the doleful Mother sat,  
(As it in Vision was the Prophet shown)  
Lamenting with the rest her dearest Son,  
Blessed CHARLES, who his Forefathers has outrun,  
And to the Royal joined the Martyr's brighter Crown▪  
Let a new City rise, with beauteous State,  
And beauteous let its Temple be, and beautiful the Gate!  
See! how the sacred Fabric up does rise,  
The Architects so Skilful all,  
So Grave, so Humble, and so Wise,  
The Axes, and the Hammers noise,  
Is drowned in Silence, or in Numbers Musical.  
'Tis up, and at the Altar stand  
The Reverend Fathers, as of old,  
With Harps, and Incense in their Hand,  
Nor let the Pious Service grow, or Dumb, or Cold.  
Th' Inferior Priests, the while,  
To Praise continually employed, or Pray,  
Need not the weary Hours beguile,  
Enough's the single duty of each Day;  
Thou thyself, Woodford, on thy humbler Pipe mayst play:  
And though but lately ' admitted there,  
So gracious those Thou Honour'st all appear,  
So ready, and attended to hear,  
An easy part, proportioned to Thy Skill may'st bear.   

III.  
But where (alas!) where wilt Thou fix Thy choice?  
The Subjects are so noble all,  
So great their Glories, and Thy Art so small,  
They will judge, I fear, themselves disparaged by Thy voice.  
Yet try; and since Thou canst not take  
A Name, so dispicably low,  
But 'twill exceed what Thou canst do,  
Tho Thou thy ' whole Mite away at once shouldst throw,  
Thy Poverty a Virtue make,  
And that Thou may'st Immortal live,  
(Since Immortality Thou canst not give)  
From one, who has to spare be ' ambitious to receive!  
Of Reverend, and Judicious Hooker Sing!  
Hooker does to the Church belong,  
The Church and Hooker claim Thy Song,  
And inexhausted Riches to Thy Verse will bring;  
So far beyond itself will make it grow,  
That Life his Gift to Thee, thou shalt again on him bestow.   

IV.  
How great, blessed Soul! must needs Thy Glory be,  
Thy Joys how perfect, and Thy Crown how fair,  
Who mad'st the Church thy chiefest care,  
This Church, who owes so much to Thee,  
That all her Son● must Sacrifice unto Thy Memory.  
'Twas a bold Work the Captive to redeem,  
But bolder the Oppressed to raise,  
(Our Aged Mother) to that due esteem,  
She had and merited in her younger Days;  
When Primitive Zeal, and Piety,  
Were her best Laws, and Policy,  
And decent Worship kept the mean,  
It's too wide-stretcht extremes between,  
The rudely scrupulous, and too wanton vain.  
This was the Work of hooker's Pen,  
With Judgement, Candour, and such Learning writ,  
Matter, and Words so ' exactly fit,  
That were it to be done again,  
Expected 'twould be, as its Answer hitherto has been.   

Retornata.  
To Chelsey, Song, and tell thy Master's Friend,  
The Church is Hooker's Debtor, Hooker his;  
And strange 'twould be, if he should Glory miss,  
For whom two such most powerfully contend.  
Bid him cheer up, the Day 's his own,  
And he can never Die,  
Who after Seventy 's past and gone,  
Can all th' assaults of Age defy;  
Is Master still of so much Youthful heat,  
A Child so perfect, and so spirit'ous to beget.    

The Metamorphosis CLELIA [changed into] A BAY.  
To the Memory of Mrs. A. W. who died in Childbed, 14 January, 1663-4.  

DOWN in a Vale, between two shady Groves,  
Whose Trees in sighs bewailed their distant Loves,  
And o'er a Stream, which gently glid below;  
Stretched their long Arms, and leafy Heads did bow,  
As if each others Necks they would embrace,  
And murmuring chid the interrupting space;  
Silvius the wretched Shepherd chose to lay,  
Clelias remains, and his own Vows to pay.  
The Tomb nor Marble was, nor glitterant Brass,  
No weighty Pile, but Bank of Turfy Grass,  
Which he himself cast up, and all around,  
With Winter Roses strewed the sacred Ground.  
Close by a mournful Tablet hung, whose Verse  
Was thus engraved—   

Kind Earth, where I securely trust  
My Dearest half, in Peace to sleep;  
Be sure thou safely guard her Dust,  
And undisturbed the still loved Ashes keep:  
But look thou lightly on them fall,  
And as in thine own Centre have no weight at all!   

So shalt thou be with Roses Crowned,  
And all those Flowers, which now I strew,  
Again, as in their Native Ground,  
Only more fair, shall in thy Bosom grow;  
Maintained by an Eternal Spring,  
Which with my constant Tears, I to these Banks will bring.   

Witness ye Floods, which deeper run,  
By them increased than heretofore;  
And as you purling roll along,  
Those ancient bounds you seldom touched, run o'er;  
At my request yet higher swell,  
And what's their power, though in your broken numbers, tell.   

With you my Tears, but here's my Fire,  
Preserved alive in Clelias' Urn;  
Never to Languish, or Expire,  
But in the next Age to break forth and burn:  
When it to Verse a Theme shall give,  
And by the Flames it shall inspire, be known to live.   

Retired the Valley was from common View,  
By none frequented, known but to a few,  
Sylvio's best Friends, who thither used to go,  
Sometimes with him, and there joynt-Tears bestow.  
Belisa, and her Swain, who claimed a share,  
By Love, and Friendship in the Pious Care,  
Were all his Company, and who alone,  
Best knew, and judged his Sorrow by their own.  
Yet for their own, though they some case could find,  
In vain they sought it for his troubled Mind.  
For still more restless that, and stubborn grew,  
And with the Day his Griefs did still renew.  
Clelia was all his thought, and with her Name,  
He so stirred up the yet increasing Flame,  
That the thick Sighs, which from his Breast did go,  
Were but as Wind the glowing Coals to blow;  
And his exhausted Tears too late did prove,  
That Love alone, not they, could quench his love.   

And so he lived (if one a Life may call  
What was indeed but a long Funeral)  
Till as one Morning to the Grove he went,  
And to conclude the Ceremony meant,  
The Grove he found by a new Tree increased,  
Whose sleeping Root seemed laid in Clelias' Breast.  
The sight amazed him, but when he drew near,  
And saw the Plant, how gay it did appear,  
His Clelia in the Plant the Shepherd spi●d,  
Nor could the strange disguise her Beauties hide.   

'Twas a fair Bay, but so exactly shaped,  
That it the perfect Form of Woman kept.  
Not as Philosopher's feigned Man to be,  
In their wild Resve'rys, an inverted Tree,  
But standing on its Root, and whose straight bowl,  
Showed how great once, and gentile was her Soul.  
For if Souls can by th' Bodies frame be guest,  
Of great the greatest she ' had, of good the best.  
The beauties of her Bosom did appear,  
In swelling Knots that balmy perfumes bear.  
To Leaves her Hair was changed, to Boughs her Arms,  
Yet both retained their ancient Force and Charms.  
A jollier Tree than ever Daphne was,  
And much more worthy bright Apollo's grace.  
For whatsoe● re in Woman is admired,  
When in a Lovers chaste embrace retired,  
Was found in her, who did nor coily flee,  
Nor court that Love, t'other was proud of when a Tree.  
Laura the Tuscan Poets brightest Flame,  
Laura, whom Verse has given a lasting Name,  
Which all but her own Virtues shall survive,  
Laura to be her Emblem does in Numbers live.   

Which as the mournful Silvius viewed, he said,  
(Gathering some Leaves to bind about his Head,  
The Leaves to bind his Head bowed gently down,  
And form themselves into a Laurel Crown)  
" Daphne, Apollo's, Clelia was my Love,  
" Tho both turned Trees, with Fates unequal strove.  
" Unlike in Life, alike in Change they were,  
" A Mother this, a Virgin that severe:  
" O'er whom till Plant, Phoebus could not prevail,  
(Python He did with more Success assail.)  
" Yet as to her he did his Harp resign,  
" Clelia with no less Passion shall have mine.  
" Grow sacred Plant, the better Daphne be,  
" Iärmas and my Consecrated Tree!   

L'Envoy.  

Poor Pastoral, for simple Shepherd fit,  
Without or much of Art contrived, or Wit;  
Do as Thou mayst, the Curious City fly;   

Or if Thou thither chance to come,  
Concealed as the Ashes, which Thou herriest lie,  
For whose dear sake alone, Thou dost thy Fortune try;  
Tho, like thy Master, Thou mightst safer be at Home.     

ODE. To Posthumus. 
Hor. l. 2. Ode 14.   Mortem Vitari non posse. 

TIME Posthu'mus scuds it with full Sail,  
Nor can thine honest Heart avail,  
A furrowed Brow, Old Age at hand,  
Or Death unconquered to withstand;  
One long Night  
Shall hide this Light,  
From all our sight,  
And equal Death,  
Shall few Days hence stop every Breath.   

Tho thou whole Hecatombs shouldst bring.  
To ' atone the inexorable King,  
Who Geryon, and Tytius' bold,  
In Chains of Stygian Waves does hold;  
He will not prise,  
But despise,  
Thy Sacrifice;  
Death thou must feel,  
'Tis so decreed by th' fatal Wheel.   

The numerous Offspring of the Earth,  
That feed on Her, who gave them Birth,  
Must have, each Birth its Funeral,  
The Womb, and Urn 's alike to all;  
Kings must Die,  
And as low lie,  
As thou and I,  
And though they have  
Achievements here, there 's none i'th' Grave.   

In vain we bloody Battles fly,  
And fear to sail, when Seas are high;  
Fear Plagues, or an Infectious Breath,  
When every Hour brings a new Death:  
Time will Mow  
What e'er we Sow;  
Weal or Woe,  
Shall have an end;  
And this, tho' unwilling, Fates must send.   

Co●ytus Lake thou must waft o'er,  
Thy tattered Boat shall touch that Shore;  
Thou Sisyphus e'er long must know,  
And into new Acquaintance grow:  
Shalt, with Life,  
Leave House and Wife,  
Thy Loves and Strife;  
And have no Tree,  
But the sad Cypress follow Thee.   

Mean while thine Heir shall nobly quaff,  
What thou with hundred Locks kepst safe;  
Caecuban Wines, and wash the Floor,  
With Juice would make an Emperor poor:  
Doubt it not,  
'Twill be thy lot,  
To be forgot,  
With all thy Deeds,  
ere he puts on his Mourning Weeds.    

Tho the Publisher has several Translations of his own, of some of the Moral Odes, etc. of Horace so falsely Printed, that it would be but Justice to himself to give them a light review; yet having since their first Publication changed his Habit, he declines it wholly here; nor would have presumed on the Reader for Reprinting this, but that it is to do a greater piece of Justice to his long since deceased Father, b. m. Mr. R. W. and from himself, under whose Name it now goes, in that false Copy, return it to the right Owner.   

To Belisa.  
The Excellent Mrs. Mary Beal, upon her own Picture, done by herself, like Pallas, but without any Arms, except Head-piece and Corselet.  
SUCH would the Learned Pallas choose to be,  
With all the Charms of Nature and of Art,  
Tho she had neither Shield nor Dart:  
For if the mighty Pallas were like Thee,  
Without those, she to Conquer, need but come, and see.  
But here (alas!) the Goddess nothing can espy,  
Except the Garb to own her Figure by;  
The Warlike Dress, and that's so Gay,  
Such Terror, and such Softness does display,  
That that as little as the Face she seems to know;  
Wishing that her own Greece had drawn her so:  
Says Fabulous Antiquity;  
ne'er gave her half that Grace or Majesty:  
That she was never half so Fair,  
In her own Beauties, or what e'er they feigned,  
With such clear Limbs, or with so great a Mind,  
As in your Draught, Belisa, she's designed:  
And were she to be Born again,  
Would from your Hand desire it rather than Jove's Brain.  
1664.   

To Clelia.  
On his own Picture done in Water-Colours, by the Learned Poet and Limner, Mr. Thomas Flatman, Fellow-Student with him, and Chamber-Fellow at the Inner Temple.  
PROOF against Time, and Age,  
And Fortune's Batteries, and Wars outrage;  
Able to Triumph o'er the Affright  
Of an Eternal Night,  
Of maugre Sickness, and the rotting Grave,  
When no Embalments else can save,  
But in themselves their own Consumption have.  
When Tombs and Epitaphs shall die,  
And in an heap as undistinguished lie  
From the dry Bones, and Dust,  
Committed to their trust,  
In hopes of Immortality,  
As if they were themselves a Portion of the Rust;  
This Shadow, Clelia, shall preserve entire  
Those Relics incorrupted, and unmixed;  
The very Air, and Fire,  
The active Youth your presence did inspire,  
And that bright Image of yourself it on me fixed.  
And though one common Urn may possibly contain,  
(Tho not despairing of return again)  
My Ashes, and a thousand more,  
Of such as shall be, or have gone before,  
Here's that will almost give Eternity,  
And next his Verse, who made the Draught ne'er let me die.  
1661.   

SOLITUDE.  Rura laudamus merito, etc. 

THE Country, 
Cl. Abr. Coul●i.  as 'tis ●it, we Poets praise,  
And there alone, like our gay Laurels thrive;  
Laurels, which in the Dust great Cities raise,  
And from their Sun concealed seem scarce to live.   

For Corn i'th' Strand, or Cheap, will sooner grow,  
And self-raised Flowers thronged Market-places Crown;  
Even Grass will sooner all its Lands forego,  
To become Burger in some Flint-paved Town:   

Than in the City midst its confused cries,  
A future Harvest of good Verse ere spring;  
Verse, that did ever hate the City's Noise,  
And which few Soils to its just growth can bring.   

Rather my Life i'th' Country let me spend,  
Thither withdrawn Dioclesian like in state;  
To th' Town my Envoy'e an Ode I'll send,  
And that's enough to ' observe, and to relate.   

Hail! Beauteous City of the Winged Choir,  
Fair Trees, sweet Bowers, inviolable Woods;  
The Muse's Kingdom, and where they retire,  
The Hampton Court of th' happy Gods.   

Let me reposed within your hallowed Shade,  
The Dances of soft-footed Zephyrs hear;  
And tired with the Disputes the Schools have made,  
Hark how by Leaves and Winds they managed are.   

View but the lusty Year, how ' it smiles and plays,  
When vigorous heat, through the gross matter hurled,  
Provokes to love, and the swelled Womb does raise,  
Of the Adult and Marriageable World.   

A Summer-House here let me ever find,  
Where Nature the wise Architect may be;  
And who ' would prefer, that is in his right Mind,  
A smooth dead Beam to a rough living Tree?   

On an Hills flowery Bed, as there I lie,  
●'d listen how some Floods new married Streams,  
●augh, and tell o'er their Loves as they ru● by,  
Glittering in Light, and flamed with liquid Gems.   

He, though alone, who wants Employment here,  
With Life but labours, as an ill Disease;  
Or Prodigal of what most buy too dear.  
His Hours puts out to none, or the worst increase.   

Blessed Solitude! sacred Companion▪  
Of God, and even Mankind, till Numbers 〈◊〉,  
Rank springing up, and thick from the Trunk of One,  
Still as in Arms, increas●●n Misery.   

'Tis Thou, who like a skilful Chariotteer,  
The Minds wild Passions dextrously dost rein,  
Make'st them the Curb receive, approach more near,  
And in a straighter Tour their Course confine.   

'Tis Thou its languid Heats, and fluid Rays,  
When by expansion ready to exspire,  
Collect'st again, as with a Burning-Glass,  
And hatchest to a new and brisker Fire.   

In vain, fond London, thy Eternal Spring,  
From whence a living Thames of People flows;  
London, in vain Thou dost Thy Pageants bring,  
And to my envy Thy raised Towers expose.   

For take but all Thy Gaudy Fools away  
And Vices large extended Family;  
A Village scarce of those, who after stay,  
Almost a Solitude Thou too wouldst be.  
1668.    

The Voyage. ODE.  

I.  
AS one, that's from a tedious Voyage come,  
And safe, through thousand Storms arrived at Home,  
Resolves to put to Sea no more,  
Or boldly tempt the flattering Main,  
How smooth so ere it lie, or plain,  
But having drawn his broken Hull ashore,  
To some kind Saint hangs up his Consecrated Oar:  
I, who as foul a Sea had passed,  
The Ocean of rough Poesy,  
Where there so many Shipwrackt be,  
Or on the Rocks, or on the Quicksand cast;  
Recounting what myself had seen,  
And in how many Deaths I ' had been,  
Where scarce an empty wish or hope could come between;  
With almost as confirmed a Vow,  
Resolved no less to Consecrate  
Some votive Table, which might show  
The Labours I did undergo;  
And at a far more easy rate,  
Than I them bore o'late,  
Give others the delight to view on Land my dangerous Fate.   

II.  
Already was the Sacred Plank designed,  
And in it how I first assayed the Deep;  
When thinking only near the Shores to keep,  
There rose a sudden, and tempestuous Wind,  
Which made me leave the unsaluted Land behind.  
The Sea before was calm, and still,  
And gentle Airs did with my Streamers play;  
Scarce strong enough my half struck Sail to fill,  
And through the yielding Crystal force my way.  
Close by did many a Vessel Ride,  
Whose Pilots all, with ●ays were Crowned,  
And to the murmurs of the Tide,  
Voices and Mirth were heard around;  
Myself made there Anacreon's Harp resound,  
Which, sprightly seemed, and wondrous brave, which I gave.  
And its old kill Notes to have,  
But from the Waters more, than those rough touches,  
'Twould still of nothing sound but Love,  
Tho I the various stops did often prove;  
Wherefore new Loves I did begin,  
And intermixed as parts my own,  
Which took fresh vigour from the String,  
And o'er the Dancing Floods were quickly blown.  
The Carthaginian Queen, I sang, and stolen Joys,  
And of his Flames, who 'scapt at Troy's:  
And as the Thracian Orpheus by his Skill,  
To Ransom his Eurydice is said,  
And from the Shades bring back the Dead;  
My Song as great a Miracle did tell,  
And thither chained in Verse, alive Proserpina did lead.   

III.  
Such was my Song, but when the Storm arose,  
Voices, and Mirth were heard no more;  
But every Man fell stoutly to his Oar,  
And to the Floods all did their Strength oppose,  
Hoping to reach some Harbour, but in vain,  
They were with greater fury hurried back into the Main.  
No lays resounded, which might please,  
But dying Shrieks of such as Shipwrackt were;  
And those proud Galleys, which before, at ease,  
Ploughed up the Deep, no longer did appear;  
But to the Waves become a Prey,  
Some downright sank, some broken lay,  
And by the Billows were in Triumph born away.  
My Keell so many Leaks did spring,  
That all the Hold, with Water was flowed o'er;  
And a Sea no l●ss dangerous raged within,  
Than that which strove abroad the Tempest to outroar.  
So Overboard my Lading strait I cast,  
With some faint hopes my Bark to save;  
But on the Wind away they quickly passed,  
And my best Safety was no hopes to have.  
Yet by me still the great Jessean Lyre I kept,  
Which down I from my Bed did take,  
(Where it neglected too too long had slept)  
And all its numerous Chords I did awake;  
Thinking, since I the Waves must try,  
Them and the Sea-gods with a Song to pacify.   

IV.  
I played, and boldly then plunged down,  
Holding my Harp still in my Hand,  
My dear Companion in those Paths unknown,  
But hopeless with it e'er to reach the Land;  
When lo! the Sage Eüarna (in my Song  
Iärma rightli'er styled) with Nymphs and Tritons waited on,  
As she by chance there passed along,  
Drove up her Chariot to my side;  
And in requital for my humble Song,  
Invited me with her to Ride,  
And fearless of the Way, with them my Course to guide.  
So down she reached her Pearly Hand,  
And from the Floods me gently raised;  
Whilst all the Crowd upon me gazed,  
And waited, ere they further went, some new Command,  
Which strait She gave, and at Her Word the Wind,  
Backward did scour, before us smooth and plain  
The Ocean lay, Storms only raged behind;  
And to my Harp I turned again,  
No longer was I of the Deep afraid,  
But bolder grown, some Anthems played,  
And on them put my Chains, who theirs upon the Waves had laid.  
Till having many a Country past,  
And Coasting the whole Earth around,  
(The Northwest passage Navigable found)  
I on my Native Shore was cast,  
And safely touched the British Isle at last.   

V.  
This Table as in Colours 'twas expressed,  
And with Belisas' curious Pencil wrought,  
With Ivy Garlands and Sea-holm I dressed,  
And to my Muses sacred Temple brought,  
Hoping it would accepted be,  
And surely gain my Liberty,  
From future Service, and declare me free.  
But as I waiting in the Court did stand,  
Into a sudden Ecstasy I fell;  
And led by an Immortal Hand,  
Which entrance for me did Command,  
Approach the Fanes most private Cell,  
By none e'er seen before, where awful Dread, and Reverence dwell.  
'Twas not like those straight Oratories here,  
Which we by that Name call,  
But a Magnifi'cent, and Stupendous Hall,  
The Roof with Paintings garnished all,  
And where in Niches, on the Wall,  
There did the lively Forms appear,  
Of such who for their Verse the Laurel Sert did wear.  
Greece and old Rome possessed the chiefest place,  
And all the upper Square on the East their Quarter was.  
The sides were into several Coasts designed,  
And by their Country you each Name might find.  
The Tuscan, French, and Spanish Band,  
And others more, as they did with their Titles stand.  
Britain as fair a space as any had,  
(The whole Western Square) and though the lowest laid,  
Had no less Honours to her, than to Rome and Athens paid.   

VI  
Thither I turned mine Eye, and in the Throng  
Of Crowned Heads, translated there,  
Whose very Names to count would be too long,  
From Chaucer downwards, (though some Ancienter there  
The fair Orinda did appear,  
And though come thither last of all,  
Made the most Beauteous Figure on the sacred Wall.  
Aside her several Niches were prepared  
For those, who after her should come;  
(The mighty Cowley since has there obtained a Room,  
And Davenant as with her they in the Muse's service shared)  
With other Names, which there I saw Enrolled,  
And in bright Characters enchased;  
But who they were must not be told,  
Till they the fatal Stream have past,  
And after Death ha' here their Breathing Statues placed.  
My Muse alone those Worthys did outshine,  
As she approached me there in shape Divine,  
Her Golden Hair was all unbound  
With careless Art, and wantonly did play,  
Moved by her Strings harmonious sound,  
As on her Shoulders the loose Tresses lay.  
A wondrous Mantle on her Back was thrown,  
And her gay Mystic Vest below,  
In Royal State trailed all adown;  
An Harp was in her Hand, and on her Head a Crown.   

VII.  
Amazed I at her Feet did fall,  
And Prostrate lay, till up she bid me stand,  
Saying," For this I Thee did never call,  
" But boldly to receive my great Command.  
" Arise, for (Lo!) a better Fate  
" Does on Thy tuneful Numbers wait,  
" Than what Thou in the Deep has tried of late;  
" Not but that all thy Labours there,  
" To Thine own Wish shall amply be repaid,  
(" How ever for a while delayed)  
" For I, by whom enroled they are,  
" Second to none but Heaven in that great care,  
" Which of Thy Verse and Thee I ever had,  
" Will look so large allowance for them shall be made,  
" And all the time Thou hast, or shalt have stayed,  
" That the whole Damage, which Thou didst sustain,  
" Shall not compare with Thy Immortal Gain.   

VIII.  
" Witness Thy Table which I here accept,  
" Worthy for the Hand designed it to be kept,  
" Within my Archives a fair Room to have,  
" And Thy mean Name from dark Oblivion save;  
" Till to another Temple, that's above,  
" Thy Souls true Image I hereafter shall remove.  
" Where several, whom Thou here dost know,  
" Ambitious at their very Names to bow,  
" Leaving their wanton Strains behind,  
And from all base alloy refined,  
" More to resemble the Eternal Mind,  
" With several, who were never here,  
(" So Godlike all their Numbers were)  
" As Heman, Ethan, Moses, and the Choir,  
" Of Jewish Psalmists, whom Heaven did inspire,  
" And Jesses Son, whose Harp thou late didst bear,  
" In Glory with the first Great Maker live,  
" And for your Mortal Bays, a Starry Diadem receive.   

IX.  
" But first, my Son, Thou thou again to Sea must go,  
" And many Towns, and Men, and Countries see,  
" In the new World of Heavenly Poesy,  
" Part of which long since was designed to be  
" The happy Fruits of thy Discovery;  
" Where none of all Thy Nation has been yet,  
" The Way so dangerous, and the Task so great;  
" Nor doubt, but it shall recompense thy cost,  
" And, were it more, that Age they cry thou hast lost,  
" When Thou didst Tiber's City fly,  
" The dusty ruins of Antiquity,  
" And for my Service thy old Love to ' her Stones deny:  
" And later, since didst Laws, and the Bar forsake,  
" And for the long Robe th' Ivy Garland take,  
" As that which would Thy Name Immortal make.  
" Much, I confess, much that alone can do,  
" Very much I,  
" But more my Elder Sister, Sage Theology,  
" Whom thou e'er long shalt know,  
" And from my Service to attend her go:  
" Her to attend, but not renounce me utterly.  
" For I have Honours to bestow,  
" And endless Treasures, though I rarely show  
" The happy Country where they grow.  
" And though some Wretch the Plague endure,  
" Of Ridiculous Poverty,  
" The fault's his own, and not in me:  
" Not that he is my Votary,  
" But under that disguse to her an Enemy.  
" Not I, but they who count and make me so, are poor.   

X.  
" Try me this once, and once more tempt the Main!  
" Thou shalt not unattended go,  
" For when thou next putst forth to Sea again,  
" I'll be Thy Pilot, and the Passage show.  
" Nay, wonder not, for 'tis no more  
" Than what I several times have done before,  
" When Tasso I through unknown Straits did guide,  
" And made my Bartas o'er the Surges ride,  
" And Collins sacred Mulla deified.  
" Those Admi'rals of my Seas, which did extend  
" Their Countries Bounds, and Savage Nations made attend  
" 'Twas I Conducted them those Lands to find,  
" Where each did plant his Nations Colonies;  
" All spreading less their Sails than Victories,  
" And there are yet more Lands for thee behind,  
" Or to Discover, or Improve by a nobler kind.  
" Let's go, my Son, and all the way rehearse  
" The Birth of things, as they from Nothing rose,  
" By that Almighty Word, which shall inspire thy Verse,  
" And help Thee all its Wonders to disclose.  
" No Storm upon Thy Mast shall rest,  
" Nor any Blasts, but Vernal, blow;  
" The Sea itself to my great Service pressed,  
" In plains of Liquid Diamond shall lie below,  
" And its obedience to my Rule in dancing Billows show.  
" And when thou Home returned shalt be  
" And of thy Native Earth once more take hold,  
" My self thy Bark will Consecrated see,  
" And for this New World thus found out by Thee,  
" Make it an Heavenly Sign, next that which saved the Old.  
" Or if this pleases not  
" Too long laid by, too long forgot,  
" And that thy Habit changed, thou changest thy design  
" Thy own be the free choice, the Conduct shall be mine.   
Made first 1666, and some time after reviewed.   

Comiato.  
Song, that thou shouldst of all be understood,  
I little hope, and less design;  
Tho few there be who wish thy Master's good,  
And know him, but they something will divine:  
That Verse so early he began,  
Scarce will the Poet die before the Man.  
And that the boasts he makes of Bays,  
(The most that almost any of the Trade e'er got,  
And happy he if this be his Lot)  
Is the thin Diet of an Airy Praise,  
On which he, like his Brethren, lives his Verse to raise.  
1677.  
FINIS.