THE POEMS OF BEN. JOHNSON Junior.
VULPONE.
AQuarius eb'd, and
Pisces caught i'th' wile,
The
Ram skips in, when
Thalia deignes to smile,
Sol courts his Mistriss, gives her a green gown,
I'm crown'd with joy, and tripping ore the Down
I chanc'd to pass by a fair chrystal flood,
Whose nearest neighbour, was an o'regrown wood,
The little bubbling purling Fountains springing,
The
Nightingale on ev'ry bow sat singing,
[Page 2]The Fields, the Flowers, the Fruit so freely budding,
Without all care I stumbled on a sudden
Upon the
Foxes hole;
Reynard, quoth I,
Why art thou banish't from society?
This solitary, melancholy Cave,
Looks like some desperate dungeon, or a grave;
Thy sentence is severe; what! no reprieve?
Must thou lye bury'd and intomb'd alive?
The goodwives call thee trecherous, and sullen,
A greedy dog, for killing all their pullen.
The Shepheards too such loud complaints do bring,
Make ev'ry corner of the Downs to ring
The bloody slaughter of the harmless Sheep,
Like a sly curr, when Shepherds are asleep.
The cruel murder of the pretty Lambs,
Slain on a heap together with their damms.
Reynard to me his gentle paw did reach,
And in smooth language thus began to preach;
Many blind souls who cannot read their Psalter,
Are too too bold and busie with the Altar.
Let no man put his finger in the fire,
I by profession am a reverend
Fryer,
Our order 'bove all earthly power was ranged
Equal with Angels, but those times are changed,
A dismal cloud hath shaded all our mirth,
We now are call'd the
Locusts of the earth
By Schismaticks, who having lost the way,
In a wild labyrinth of error stray
[Page 3]It was a golden age, when we did handle,
Th' affrighted world, with our Bell, Book, and Candle.
Lords of the World, Mens Consciences to boote,
We made great Kings humbly to kiss our foot;
We then were Emperors of all mens treasures,
My brother Wolf, and I, did fare like
Coesars,
Our bellies strutting, nothing could we lack,
The full cram'd dishes made the Table crack,
Gammons of
Bacon, Brawn, and what was chief,
King in all feasts, a tall Sir Loyne of
Beef.
Fat
Venison Pasties smoaking, 'tis no fable,
Swans in their broath came swimming to the Table,
Partridges, Pigeon, Plover, and the
Hen,
With all her broods, would it were there agen.
My sides were wondrous plump, and in good plight,
I had no cause to range abroad by night,
Feasted with delicates beyond all measure;
Our golden path was Pav'd with ease, and pleasure.
The highway Huckster he delights in pillage,
The
Gypsie swaggers in a Country Village,
The beggar under ev'ry bush doth feast,
But of all lives the Monk's life is the best;
The world in pure devotion was so holy,
While we fed fat and laughed at their folly.
The pretty
Nuns and we agree so well,
Whom we did pardon whatsoe'er befell.
We put the fair side outward; what was foul
Was closely hidden underneath our
Cowl.
[Page 4]None in the Pulpet could become a lye,
With face more bold and confident than I.
Such melting words, that made the women weep.
Into the closet of their souls I creep.
The men from home, and dreaming of no harm,
I kiss their wives, and keep their places warm;
I led the fools in such a stupid blindness,
At their return they thank me for my kindness.
The world was fast asleep, and did not mind me,
Where e're I came I left my spawn behind me.
Like
Bulls reserv'd for breed, from our fair Abbyes,
We fill all countryes with our lusty Babyes.
Hence in their mouthes this Proverb all men gather,
'Tis a wise child that knoweth his own Father.
But I must now in deep contrition mourn,
Fasting and praying for the swift return,
I lay my bones upon this rocky hill,
Besides the Lents I keep against my will;
Since Abby's were dissolv'd, which I condole,
I hid mine head e'er since in this dark hole,
In this poor Hermitage my vows to pay,
In deep devotion I consume the day,
Shunning all company by Heavens direction,
I keep my self untainted from infection.
In meditation on my own thoughts feeding,
Least they should spoil my manners and my breeding:
I contemplate and study in my mind,
Where I at night some pleasant bit may find.
[Page 5]Self preservation is a general rule,
I suckt this lesson from dame nature's School.
My Occupation, which some thiev'ry call,
I learnt of man the greatest thief of all,
By him I was instructed to indite;
Man is my copy, what he writes I write;
Look on my Book I'm sure I do not miss,
Compare them well, my letters are like his.
'Tis true with
Ducks and
Geese I am at war,
But he in cruelty exceeds me far;
For one offence of mine number his ten,
I prey on
Lambs, but he doth prey on men.
Upon a
Pigg sometimes, I place my mind,
Whole Nations he devours of his own kind.
To satisfie fierce hunger, 'tis most just;
Man playes the wanton
Cannibal for lust.
A
Coney, or a
Hare, small things we prize them;
These
Alexanders Worlds will not suffice them,
He calls for more worlds, and he cryes
Aloon Sir,
As if one were too little for one
Mounsieur.
Such petty thieves as I are still dispraised;
Your mighty
Tories unto honour raised.
We make the woods our dreadful habitations,
They stear the healm of Kingdoms and of Nations.
These
Caesars placed on fair Fortunes brow,
But we are taught to swim on every bow.
The world is caught with toyes, things priz'd we see,
Not as they are, but as they seem ro be.
[Page 6]Of our deserved honour she would barr us,
Because our chamber is not hung with
Arras.
Truth standeth on the rock, 'tis no false Latin,
A foole's a fool although he ride in Satin.
Do not debase our royal pedigree,
Our famous Line shines with the greatest He,
Tho' I am forc'd to live in humble cote,
Mine Ancestors were Beasts of princely note,
And tho▪ I am by no man now befriended,
I am from Kings and Emperors descended.
With
Hannibal I was in great request,
I alwayes lodg'd in this brave Generals breast;
'Twas not his Sword that drave the
Romans home
Totally routed, to besieged
Rome;
It was my counsel gave the fatal blow,
When
Italy with blood did overflow,
And had my policy found approbation,
Rome had not been the Empress of each Nation.
When wary
Fabius drew his Bilbo blade,
He circumvented him in his own trade;
My Grandsire
Herod, whose grave steps I follow,
Taught how the great Thieves do the little swallow.
From his example all men will confess,
The tall ones are supplanters of the less:
All wrestlers from the Matock to the Crown,
The strongest arm tumbles the weakest down.
Though in the art of fencing none could beat him
A mighty Monarch! yet the Lice did eat him.
[Page 7]From
Cain my lineal pedigree I draw,
Who first proclaim'd the statute of clubb Law;
'Twas when the early world was newly blown,
When Pistols, Sword, and Canons were not known,
Nor that
Italian trick, that layes men dead,
Lull'd fast asleep, before they go to bed.
So soon did fratricide mans mind invade,
But parricide is now a common trade.
My Cousin
Nimrod learnt his skill from me,
The first that hunted after soveraignty;
He kept about him a flete pack of Beagles,
Who had the Tallons and the Wings of Eagles.
But when his deep mouth'd Hounds did roar & thunder,
They did amaze poor
Coridon with wonder.
Beside he had his Blood-Hounds and Setters,
Whereby freemen were frighted into Fetters.
To build a Tower, he long time was brewing,
That he might see what all the Gods were doing,
Peeping into (although it were forbidden)
Their wise decrees, and counsels that were hidden.
And that which made it Luciferian treason,
He thought to over-look them with blind reason.
Here's the foundation of that City laid,
Which into ruine all mankind betraid.
When this ridiculous plot it would not be,
He then unkennels all his Hounds on me.
His Huntsman fury blew the Bugle Horn,
Forewarn'd forearm'd i' th' top of all the morn,
[Page 8]I fled (as I had cause) through thick and thin,
Through woods and dangerous floods to save my skin:
Fear gave me wings, it was no time to dally,
I scale the Mountains which o'relook the Vally;
Untill I found this home, this homely bower,
A castle stronger than his lofty Tower.
Necessity my nimble pate refining,
I taught the world the art of undermining,
VVhich they have practis'd since in all their wars,
To blow up Towns, and fix them all new stars.
A figg for his Granado and redout,
Although I am besieged round about,
VVithin this
Palisado safe am I,
His Culvering and Canon to defie.
My brother
Mahomet did hold me dear,
I taught the Dove to whisper in his eare,
By this fine cheat the vulgar minds beguiling,
His
Alchoran was all of my compiling;
VVith strong delusion, and devout pretences,
I fram'd a pamphlet, pleasing to the senses.
To charm mans appetite, was my sole aime,
Some small additions; which I now disclaim,
Foisted by fools, for that was none of mine,
VVhen he forbad mankind the use of wine.
That such brave liquor should be in disgrace,
For this the Poets curse him to his face.
They call him Sot, and Fool, and sensless wigeon,
No Poet ever was of his Religion.
[Page 9]And had
Anacreon been alive agen,
He would have whipt their Armies with his Pen.
Till he had bang'd them to the
Scythian Roc
[...]s,
From whence these
Nomades first drave their Flocks.
Sack gave
Don John that
Spanish brave
Galanto,
A glorious day i' th' battel of
Lepanto.
Had the
Dutch there been arm'd with furious Brandy,
The State of
Venice had not lost their
Candy.
Wise Privy Counsellours, whose pates are running,
In all their deep designs practise my running.
Their greatest safety in my counsel lying
To keep their Necks whole, and their Heads from flying.
Statesmen attend my Chamber ev'ry minute,
Their counsel failes, if
Reynard be not in it.
Popes, Cardinals, their Engines and Decoyes,
Instructed to amuze the world with toyes.
A world of subtle snares I hourly set,
To bring blind Ideots headlong to my Net,
To swallow down my charms, which I do season
VVith bowles of wine that robs them of their reason,
And that they may not smell my bitter potion,
I colour all their liquour with devotion.
I lend my hand to low ones that are down,
VVithout my help none wear the tripple crown.
Unto my painted lure all mortals bend,
Old
Simon Magus is a trusty friend;
Achitophel whose policy was rare
I griev'd to see him sailing in the Aire.
[Page 10]To
Machiavel I nearly am allyde,
Both my great Uncles by the surer side.
I were ungrateful should I not commend her,
My good old Grannam the grave
Witch of
Endor.
She taught me
Magick to foretell good hap,
VVhen a fat Kid should fall into my lap.
By Astrology instructed to discover,
When I should plant my lips upon some plover.
The Sun in Capricorn, the moon decreasing,
I told each calf his minute of deceasing.
My skill in Palmestry would much delight ye,
From
Venus mountain to the
linea vitae,
By secret lines the fortune I display
Of ev'ry goose that came into my way.
In all Arithmetick I was well read,
I could divide the shoulder from the head;
A capon, or a cock, If I could win him,
I quickly did reduce into a minnim.
The feathered fowl that fly I did Trappan 'um
All this and more I learnt of my good Grannum.
Fair
Cleopatra, though the
Roman kist her,
Antonius minion, was my mothers Sister:
She was his mate, he was her Turtle Dove,
Shrin'd in one tombe, fond fools to die for love.
Queen
Jezabel, she was my mother dear,
Whom cruel Dogs did all in pieces tear:
I suckt her milk, a tender mother she,
For which the dogs still lick their lips at me.
[Page 11]There is but two names in the world bear rule,
Two mighty families, the Knave and Foole:
Of these, the major part, in power, and place;
The crafty knaves spring from the fox's race.
Your Mountebanks, they daily do invoke us,
The Juglers learn their tricks of
hocus pocus,
The crafty Lawyers, nimblest of the three,
Lay by their
Littleton to study me,
Their Clients purses they do plow and harrow,
Who gnaw the bone, when they have suckt the marrow.
When I was young, and did an infant write,
In books of Heraldry I took delight.
Our predecessors fame, from
Adams prime,
I could reduce unto the present time.
I and the serpent, joyned in commission,
Gave
Eve that apple caused mans perdition.
Our coat of Arms is rich and wondrous good,
Three lambs new slain in a fair field of blood.
Some of our Ancestours wanting their fleeces
Did bear a ragged coat all torn in pieces;
An honourable badge, worn as a Jem,
Won in the wars, between the hounds and them.
Upon our Crest, a Duck, strugling and striving,
Catch'd on a suddain, as she was a diving.
These things are laid aside, and out of date,
The leaf is changed in the book of fate.
T'was all mine own, that came within mine eying,
I could have ta'ne the swiftest swallow flying.
[Page 12]Nothing to clamber up the tallest cliff;
But now my joynts and sinews are grown stiff;
My grinders not so sharp to gnaw a bone,
And all my vaulting, tumbling tricks are gone.
This is my greatest grief, my friends abuse me;
Thieves of my own profession, they accuse me:
And by no people am I more besmeared,
Than those whose fired fingers have been seared.
The Gypsy, and the cutpurse in the stocks,
Taylors, and Millers, all do curse the Fox.
Envy swells like a toad ready to burst,
But the poor fox fares best when he is curst.
Two handed Lawyers rob both rich and poor;
Wiping their mouths, they lay it at my door.
The Justice and his Clark, who for a Fee
Turn justice topsy turvy, rail at me;
The Usurer, whose Soul is hell-fed bacon,
Roares out of hell for stealing his fat capon;
Widdows, and children, his wide throat doth swallow,
Yet calls me thief as if I had no fellow;
His own he sees not, but my pranks he'l tell ye
Who hath whole Towns and Citties in his belly;
When he hath chew'd a parish, and her people,
At the next morsell he devours the steeple:
Their thundring acclamations all lett fly,
As if there were none other thief but I.
When if you put all creatures to the test,
Among the thieves I shall be found the lest.
[Page 13]The little chrystall springs do rob their Donor
The envious rob their neighbour of his honor,
The Sun doth rob the Sea, in Showrs of rain,
The thirsty earth doth rob the Sun again,
The Rivers rob the Brooks, which gently fall
In silent streams, the Sea doth rob them all.
When
Cupid he doth throw his poisoned dart
The lover steals away his Mistress heart:
Not Lyons onely that for prey do ly,
Nor whales, that swallow mighty shoals of fry;
The little Wren, the Dove, the silly sheep,
The Fowls, the Fishes of the watry deep,
They live by rapine, brother robs his brother,
And all subsist by plundring one another.
Theft, the worlds prop, Dame natures chiefest friend,
Banish all thieves the world will quickly end.
I loved all my brethren wondrous well
Who did in active feats of hand excell.
[...] thought those thieves who in the open Sun,
Bid travellers stand, who have more mind to run,
To be the greatest fools; I shun the light,
My stratagems have safety in the night.
The dogs are all asleep, and not one Mouse,
That licks the cream, did move in all the house.
The Trumpeter his trumpet sometime blowing,
[...] charm the busy tell-tale-cock from crowing,
His trumpet shrill was heard through all the village,
Disturbing my designed plot for pillage,
[Page 14]Forewarning man of future things to come,
Of that black, blessed, dismall day of doom,
When that loud trump shall sound, to raise up men
To their last judgement, though they know not when▪
Who sounding in your ears with his shrill horn,
Tells you, that it may be er'e the next morn.
Whose crowing was to
Peter a good morrow,
When his repentance melts in tears of sorrow.
It was not so with me, I was affraid,
Least he should wake the Mistriss and her Maid:
Whose thundring tongues, would gather in a cluster
The neighborhood, all to a generall muster,
Raising great tumults, high and mighty sturs,
Pistolls, and Guns, and all the bawling curs.
Who would not spare me, if they once did wind me,
Compelling me to leave my skin behind me.
The pleasant game stood fair before mine eyes,
To make the cock sure was my master prize;
At his vain babling I was sore offended,
Griping his throat, his tale was quickly ended.
My work done suddenly, without debating,
I stop his whistle, and his tongue for prating,
Upon the earth poor Chanticleer lies springing,
His melody was marr'd for ever singing,
And to accompany his dismal fall,
Some cackling hen attends his funerall.
To weigh these things, it makes me melancholly,
I would redeem with tears my wanton folly,
[Page 15]That all is out of frame, all will confess,
Anothers error makes not mine the less;
I'm weary of the course which I have run,
And do repent the mischiefs I have done.
Let man begin, whom we poor
Animals call,
The Microcosme, the quintessence of all,
Fram'd out of all worlds, copy of the three,
A perfect figure of the Trinity,
The lowest Angel, and the tallest beast,
A goodly thing in all his titles drest;
Let this great thing who doth in honour swim,
Begin the dance, and we will follow him,
I'le leave my thieving trade, and be his debtor,
If his example teach me to be better.
The crafty Fox doth solemnly protest
Man unredeem'd is worse than any beast,
Than Wolf, Dog, Lyon, Tiger, more uncivil,
Without a Jesus an Apostate Devil.
THE DREAM.
For forrain Lands I had a travelling mind,
My main designe a trusty friend to find,
If in the miriads of souls that are
One real lover would fall to my share,
Where soul to soul tune up one harmonie,
I made no scruple were it he, or she:
Jewel of jewels, which doth rarely grow,
Richer then all the Gems in
Mexico.
He that is crowned with this part, is blest,
Holds in his arms the
Indies east and west.
Musing upon the state of humane things,
The slipperie fate of kingdoms, and of kings,
Opprest with weighty grief, which made me weep,
Clouding my sense, I fell into a sleep.
Here swift
Ideas made my brain their column,
I saw the universe bound in one volumn;
Me thought the whole was small, yet all did pant
To win this thing, no bigger then an
ant.
Each would have all, they shoulder, and they sweat,
The little world was fighting for the great:
[Page 17]A Sea appear'd, king
Neptune seem'd to flout me,
Millions of dreams like boats sailing about me:
These roving run-agates my fancy smother,
Dream after dream, and one succeeds another.
Some say that dreams within the brain are toss't
Of things which in the day we think of most.
Some dreams are pleasant, some are troublesome,
Some of things past, and some of things to come,
Prophetick dreams that please, and sometime fear us,
Convey'd by Angels when some mischief's near us;
Some told of things they never knew before;
Some dream of gold, and yet are alwayes poor;
Some dream of rivers, mountains, Shores, and Seas;
Some of a new world: mine was all of these.
My wandring fancy did for
Spain incline
Famous for
Sack, that Emperor of wine;
Other, small princes of inferiour rank:
This liquor
Virgil and wise
Homer drank
When they did muster on the
Ilian sands
The
Trojan armies and the
Graecian bands.
O're rockie hills and lofty mountains high,
Whose tall aspiring heads do kiss the skie
I search each corner of that crabbed coast,
The cities which antiquity doth boast;
Tracing those mountains many a tedious mile
I stumble on the brave court of
Castile.
Here
Hercules did all his labours end:
But mine began, to find a faithful friend.
For which he did encompass Sea, and Land:
My labour did to greater things aspire,
To find a
Phoenix melted in the fire,
Out of whose ashes should spring up to birth
A friend, the quintessence of Heav'n and earth.
The gentle
Donna's in mine eye no less
Than sparkling angels in a female dress:
Their courtesie was rare, so wondrous free,
With kind embraces they half ravish'd me:
At the first flourish they appear like posies
Compos'd with
July flowers and fragrant roses:
But flowers will fade; they bid me pick and prune▪
You may as well find constancy i'th' moon,
Sweet melting
manna from our northern dews,
Knowledge in
Lapland, chastity in the stews.
Wouldst thou reap diamonds where they are not sow
[...]
The pearl call'd friendship never here was known.
Go gather grapes in
Greenland, that dark hole,
Pepper, and ginger, at the
Artick pole.
Canst thou bring all Religions into one,
Whose quintessence is love: thy work is done,
Thy mind at rest, thy travel at an end,
The whole creation is become thy friend,
Not only man, appointed to command,
But every thing that moves by sea or land:
Both heaven and earth with all their wealth shall st
[...] th
[...]
Lyons and
Tygres shall fall down before thee.
[Page 19]In countrey cottages friendship was rife,
Leases of love they took for term of life;
Love there is dead,
Amintas doth not mind it;
And dost thou think in pallaces to find it?
Perfection dwells not in frail, mortal dust;
Shew me the man that to himself is just.
Damon, and
Pitheas, are exil'd from hence:
Vertue her self hath here no influence.
The Pages tell her in their wanton play
She is some countrey Lady of the
May
That knows no courtesie, or how to speak,
Only train'd up to run at barley-break,
Some canting
Gypsie with a conjuring wand,
Or petty
Princess of the
Fairie land;
She is too judg'd by her brown olive hue
A Lady errant of
Don Gusmans crue.
In this place thou wilt prosper, canst thou paint
With all the colours of a seeming Saint;
Thou mayst perhaps ascend bright honors hill
If thou canst court where thou intend'st to kill;
We call it pollicie, just in our sight,
To cut those trees down that eclipse our light.
The upright, simple, innocent, we slay:
'Tis crime enough that they stand in our way.
We study not the morals of wise
Plato;
Nor that old fool whom they intitle
Cato:
To imitate their follies we want leisure;
All our divinity is ease and pleasure.
[Page 20]Slaves chain'd to conscience no, no, we are free-men▪
And know no friend, no God, but wine and women.
Hast thou the stone that turneth all to gold,
Or teeming bags of Silver? then be bold.
Melt all
Peru into one mass of treasure,
Then Call th'
Infanta Cousin at your pleasure:
Gentlemen kneel, and at their distance are,
Esquires your foot-men, let the
knight stand bare;
From the grand
Seignior you may take the Wall,
Great
Dons and
Dukes, you
Tom and
Dick may call.
Fortune's a
Whore, my temples that were crown'd
Must feel her lashes when the wheel turns round.
Love winneth love, disdain begets disdain,
Who scorn the world, the world scorns them again.
Those that will live magnificent and feel
His favour, must to mighty
Mammon kneel:
These were his
minions, in his bosome lay.
True loyal Subjects, they his Laws obey;
These were rewarded with all earthly blisses,
Swimm in his favour, crown'd with his kisses:
But I that could not bow to this
Apollo,
Must
nolens, volens, all disgraces swallow.
My simple Outside did these
Lapwings fright,
Winters at hand, come let us take our flight,
Beside the courtesie of friendly blows,
They took their last adieu with their kind toes.
The tall
groom-porter spyde mine empty purse,
Then whipt me from the presence with a curse.
[Page 21]My tongue was mute, my wrongs I durst not tell,
But with my heels I bid this Court farewell;
And had not
patience armed me in hast,
To ward their blows, that day had been my last.
The
Inquisition made me wondrous sick,
[...]east they should take me for some
Heretique,
Whence no redemption till the grand assize,
When the graves open, and the dead arise:
Criminal faults they might have found good store,
What greater
Blasphemy than to be poor;
And in their flames I might a
Martyr fry,
Where simple honest is grand
Heresy;
What courtesie, what Civil entertainment,
When poor and honest came to their arraignment.
That some alledge there is a
Purgatory,
Experience proves it is no fabulous story.
Tis easy to believe when we have seen it,
[...] can assure you I my self was in it,
[...] prayd to all the
Saints on my bare knee,
From
limbus patrum now deliver me.
Remembring
Lot's wife I durst make no halt,
Least I should be dissolved into
Salt;
Fear would not let me stay, nor look behind,
But hoysing sail, with a brisk merry wind,
With all my wings for
England I am gone,
To
London, Empress of fair
Albion;
[...]nto this royal City then I pack Sir,
[...] met this common greeting, what de'e lack Sir?
[Page 22]Methought the word was sweeter far then honey,
Will these kind Souls supply me without money?
This gentle salutation it did sound
As if that
Paradice were newly found
Where the fair beams, of the bright heavens do smile▪
All things provided without care and toyle.
Perhaps old
Saturn, with his golden age,
Is here arriv'd from his long Pilgrimage.
Where cursed
mine and
thine was never known,
And no man durst call any thing his own.
Mens minds were not inclos'd, that crying sin,
For all the world was then one common Inn,
Landlord and
Tennant names unknown, all share
The whole creation common as the air,
The hospitable earth mans friendly host,
Nature his hostess, at whose proper cost
Her guests were feasted with a liberal hand,
To furnish them she plunders Sea and Land.
At their departure hence, for their long stay
The reckoning was brought in
nothing to pay.
'Twas
Saturns absence caus'd the City's mourning,
And
Bonfires now were made for his returning.
To make his welcome equal their desire,
The bells for joy were melted in the fire.
I secretly within my self thus praid,
Blest heavens, O noble City, be thine aid.
May every
Mayor be a
Duke or
Earl,
Thy
Ships return laden with gold and Pearl.
[Page 23]Buying and selling banisht, all things given
With a full hand, as they descend from heaven.
Let there be no
Apprentice, but all
Freemen,
And every thing as common as some women;
That fire which many thousands did undoe,
O let it burn up their
Opinions too;
Let every Soul be ruled by the
Dove,
And no
Religion in the world but
Love,
That all mens hearts may shout with joy and mirth,
That heaven is now come down to dwell on earth.
Credulity it hath deceived many,
I would not be ungrateful unto any,
Nor at his civil courtesie to spurn,
This Answer to his Question I return.
I want a Friend Sir. He in scorn did mutter,
It is a ware we never use to utter,
'Tis not within the walls I dare be bold,
Nor any where in the large
Suburbs sold;
'Tis a commodity quite out of fashion,
And rarely to be found in the whole Nation,
Moore's brave
Ʋtopia, with a deluge drown'd,
Cover'd with water, no where to be found;
This world affords it not, it is a Gem
Was never seen but in
Jerusalem;
It hath no stain, nor intermitting foil;
But groweth there as in his native soil;
Their very walls are built with such rich stone,
[Page 24]Millions of Pearls cemented into one.
The breath of love his friendly blast doth blow;
'Tis natural there, as enmity below:
Dispos'd to good, so readily inclin'd,
They know not what it is to be unkind.
Some of our modern travellers do say,
'Twas lately found in
terra incognita.
Sir we expect some Ships, but O I fear,
The voyage long, they'l not return this year.
A friend! it is the thing we most desire,
'Twould save our shop from thieves, our house from fire.
Pride's our best friend, on lust we make our dinner,
At ev'ry meale we swallow up some sinner.
But these thy friends scourge thee with many lashes;
Melting thy stately buildings into Ashes;
A dearth of friendship did invade this place,
Where plenty did put on a smiling face;
The thing call'd love, it was not to be found,
Pride and ambition did besiege it round;
Miracles cease, I had no cause to mourn,
If
Thames to wine, and stones to bread would turn;
For aged
Pauls was falling every day,
The famine great I could no longer stay,
My sides grew lean, my bowells out of Tune,
Even in the height and heat of parching
June;
With frozen entertainment here benumm'd,
I march, where the
Knights templers lie intombed;
These warriers, as I walk about the
Isle,
[Page 25]Did seem to court me with a Souldiers smile,
The marbles were less stony then the men,
Who have exchang'd their swords into a pen,
The cruel murdering pen that in a word
Kills and cuts deeper than the keenest sword.
Four fleeces from their clients they do shear,
Four golden crops, four harvests in one year:
Were
Ceres to the
Plowman half so kind,
Hee'd skip and caper like the bouncing
Hind;
His horses too, taking their masters mow,
Without their bells would dance before the Plow;
Their Ship can sail with all winds that do blow,
They reap the land which they did never sow:
The fat of all they put into their purses,
Together with the widdows tears and curses;
Their long demurs their bawling in mine ears,
Their
Pedlers french drave me from hence with tears:
My cause
non-suited, no man could befriend me,
Wanting my
Guardian-Angel to defend me;
My
forma pauperis was thrown o're the
Bar,
[...]uch men are mad that enter into
war;
The gowned battail is not for the poor,
The remedy they find worse then the sore.
My
Dream continu'd; in my sleep I saw,
A multitude in several bodies draw;
[...]n antique shapes they move with various paces,
And yet methought there was more minds then faces:
All would have all men amble in their way,
[Page 26]And each did think his neighbour went astray;
Yet none did know upon what ground they stand,
Mistake the right, and turn to the left hand.
In the morning this side, which they change e're noon,
Like the
Chamelion, or the pale-fac'd moon.
All strive to be aloft, their brains they beat
Who shall be placed in the highest seat;
In an uncertain slippery orb they reel,
Moved by that great pow'r that guides the wheel;
Those heads who now are crowned with a wreath,
At the next revolution fall beneath;
From their exalted
Empire down they tumble,
Blessed saith wisdome are the meek and humble;
Who standing on the lowest step of all,
Are sure to rise, but can no lower fall,
Who swim in the smooth stream without a bladder;
By slow sure steps they climb up
Jacobs ladder.
But these benighted wander from the road,
Loosing the narrow way they take the broad.
They are ignorant that great doth little grow,
And to be less than nothing, less do know:
Nothing no favour hath in mortal eyes,
But to be something is their Master-prize.
The battell is begun, see how they ruffle,
And ev'ry man doth with his neighbour scuffle;
Fury, grand captain of this cursed brawl,
Opinion is
Dictator of them all:
Opinion with opinion is at odds,
[Page 27]And humane reason she prepares the rods,
To whip the backs of strugling Souls that wander
From the blind steps of this notorious
Pander;
Whose beauty now hath lost his virgin lustre,
Like swarms of
Bees or armies when they muster.
Her bastards multiply all like the mother,
And one opinion still begets another.
Of this in estuous
Strumpet old and rotten,
That bloody fratricide
Cain was begotten;
Who when the world a little infant stood,
Taught men to sacrifice with humane blood:
Who e're doth play
Religion wins the game,
For now opinion she assumes that name;
Thus by opinion and his brother fancy,
The world is overgrown with
Negromancy;
True love, religion pure and undefiled,
A wandring
Pilgrim from all hearts exiled;
With bloody noses and with broken bones,
Like wanton boys they fight for cherry-stones;
Their ordnances play, their fury swells,
For a poor handfull of old rotten shells:
The
Nut is good, who would not strive to win it?
It hath a
pearl when the sweet kernell's in it:
Fond Strife hath crackt the
Nut, the kernell's gone,
And now they quarrell for the shells alone.
It is not coloured dutyes fac'd with lyes,
Regeneration only wins the prize;
Although
Heaven-gates stand open all the year,
[Page 28]None but a little child can enter there.
By their own works heavens pallace is not gain'd;
Mans righteousnesse will not be entertain'd;
The word, the living word, a thundring dart,
Through bones & marrow wounds the panting heart:
It made the world e're
time and world began,
And for mans sake this word became
God-man.
But they, O grand mistake! knowing no better,
Confine the unconfined to the letter;
A noval-paper deity compounding,
The spirit with the written word confounding;
Their Sun is set, thick darkness doth invade,
In stead of light they dally in the shade:
Aesops devouring dog, a greedy glutton,
Diving to catch the shadow lost the mutton.
Some
Dina or
Diana is the cause
Of all our woes, the breach of natures laws;
With an
Acheldema of crimson blood,
For trifling toys not rightly understood;
True knowledge clouded with Egyptian blindness,
All amity confounded with unkindness;
The law of love, the livery and token
Of
Christs disciples, by division broken:
This is great
Babel, mother of delusion,
Strumpet of
Strumpets, city of confusion.
No peace no truth where
Jezabel doth reign,
My hopes were dead, my heart was almost slain,
Sighing to see how all things did deceive me;
[Page 29]Is this great world too narrow to receive me?
What hideous deluge doth o'rewhelm thy face,
That the poor
Dove can find no resting place?
A friend! an
Ʋnicorn! not to be found,
When instantly turning my body round,
A man, more then a man, a
God did meet me,
With kind imbraces thus began to greet me:
Through
bogs and
briers wading in distress,
Why dost thou wander in this
wilderness?
When thou thy part hast acted on the stage,
Poor
Pilgrim thou must quit thy pilgrimage;
Time with his
Sickle these false joys will sever,
And when you parted are, you part for ever;
Wean thy bewitched Soul whilst thou hast breath,
Know this, there's no returning after death.
These short-liv'd transitory joys ride double,
Delight with sorrow mixt, pleasure and trouble:
Repentant tears of mourning after gladness,
A showr of comfort interlin'd with madness.
Look up to him whose love is still descending,
Whose greatness no beginning hath nor ending:
Enter sweet
Paradice with
Angels singing,
Swim in the
Fountain that is always springing:
The glories of the world perish in tasting,
Imbrace those pleasures that are everlasting.
Follow my counsel, if thou wouldst have rest,
I'le lead thee where the
Doves do build their Nest;
VVhere thou shalt feast in fulness all the day,
Thou sow'st in fears and tears, hoping to find;
All that thou reapest here is froth and wind;
Hadst thou the whole world, 'Tis a little spot;
Fond fool, thy native countrey this is not.
This
Fabrick is a cottage of small price,
My heart's thy pallace and thy paradice.
His breath was sweet, it sounded in mine ears
More pleasant then the musick of the
Spheres;
Which gently blowing like a whisper came,
To kindle up loves fire into a flame:
Excellent consort, by whose charming tone
Our nature with his nature is made one.
Silencing man makes him for ever mute,
Jesus the
Lutanist, Christus the
Lute;
Christus the
Lute the instrument of
Jesus,
On whom he playes what melody he pleases.
Jesus Jehovah is the grand
Creator,
Jesus in
Christo the
Regenerator;
Healer of Nations, good
Samaritan,
The Son of
God is now the son of man:
The mystery of mysteries indeed,
The blessed
Sower is himself the
seed;
The spirit by his overshadowing powers,
Doth breath his flaming heart of love in ours:
Duality confounded in this union,
Where heaven and earth do meet in full communion.
Ravish'd with wonder, I did kiss his feet
[Page 31]In whom all that is excellent doth meet;
The lustre of his beauty all-divine,
Speeds through my veins, and made my face to shine:
I fix'd mine eye upon his face, that shone;
But O! upon a sudden he was gone;
I turn'd me round about if I could see
The footsteps of my love, where he should be;
My
Love, my
Dove, my
Joy, my sole delight,
What
Cherubin hath snatch'd him from my sight?
O where is my beloved? is he fled?
Dwells he among the living or the dead?
I'le search the graves, perhaps death hath inrol'd him;
The marble
Sepulcher could not hold him:
I'le climb the clifts for him that is my crown;
His power that made can pull the mountains down:
I'le scale the walls of heaven but I will gain him;
Fond fool! the heaven of heavens cannot contain him▪
I mount the rocks 'gainst which the
North-wind rages▪
They answer me, he is the rock of ages:
I travail to the
Woods, is my
Love here?
Eccho did answer, he lives every where:
To the starry region then I take my flight;
He is the luminous center of all light,
Whose glorious beams continually do pierce
Through all the body of the
Ʋniverse.
Mans soul's a sparkle of this light divine,
Inlightned Souls do all the stars outshine:
Whose radiance here hath not his full disclosing,
[Page 32]Eclipsed by the bodies interposing.
Thence to the springs that Issue from the mountains,
Thy lover is the
Fountain of all
Fountains;
His bosome is a hill, whiter then
Snow,
Whence water of eternal life doth flow;
Convey'd by power, through secret unknown allyes,
Descendeth down to bless the humble vallyes.
It is not drain'd by drawing, but runs quicker;
The thirsty Soul tasting this heavenly liquor,
Drinks liberal draughts, greedily pouring in,
Accounts sobriety the greatest sin.
I sound the rivers, but they answer all,
He is the
Sea wherein all rivers fall;
That bounteous, boundless, bottomless abyss,
Where little streams are swallowed up in bliss:
From this
Apollo man's a sparkling beam,
From this great
Ocean a derived stream,
Springs, Rivers, Brooks, by heavens distilling rain,
United into one great
Sea again.
True love is not a quainted with pale sear:
Armed with courage, to imbrace my
Dear,
Unto the
Lyons den I boldly came,
The
Lyon rampant was an humble
Lambe▪
Here in this
Wilderness I am a
King;
When I do roar I make the
Forrest ring.
[Page 33]The
Elephant his fear cannot dissemble,
I make the
Leopard and the
Tyger tremble;
But I my self am couchant and do fall
Before his presence who is
King of all.
Among the homely
Shepherds then I stear,
Such as
King David and the
Patriarchs were;
Saw you my royal
Prince? fond Soul, quoth they,
Who trust in man are sure to loose the way:
We are lambs as thou art, Sheep of his dear fold,
In the number of his little ones inrol'd;
Close by the river in fair flowry
Meadows,
And
Mountains alwayes green, he gently leads us:
'Tis true, we spring from his immortal line,
But he that is our
Pastor now is thine;
In his great power and glory we do swim,
Our
harps and hearts are tuned all by him:
We are his instruments, his choice delights,
We are the
Song which he himself indites;
With his own hand he toucheth all the strings;
'Tis one that plays, 'tis one alone that sings:
We are his written word, he the
Inditer,
Look not upon the
writing, but the
Writer;
Enquire of him alone, on yonder rock
He sweetly pipeth to his fleecy flock;
Go to him boldly man, thou needst not doubt him,
His pretty
lambs are dancing round about him,
Dancing for joy, there's nothing now can fear them,
The bearded
Goats apart from him do stand,
The little
Lambs he feeds with his own hand:
In his warm tender bosome they are nurst,
With his heart-blood he satisfies their thirst.
To pay their debts, upon the
Cross he hung;
Good
Pellican that bleeds to feed his young.
TRANSPORT.
My soul mad drunk with love, that still did mi
[...] him
Among the Doves I cannot choose but find him
Drest in the flames of love; saw you my
Dear?
One milk-white
Dove did whisper in mine ear,
Behold in yonder flourishing
Grove of
Mirtles
Thy
Lover sits, the
King of all the
Turtles;
His mate so constant, that he doth not doubt her,
His love so great he cannot live without her;
He courts, and to be courted she is willing;
Musick of hearts whose melody is billing.
In an eternal knot espous'd they be,
He full of love, a modest
Virgin she;
His love eternal is, and hath no date,
He is thy
Turtle, and thou art his
Mate:
Father of
Spirits, Angels, and the rest,
Bright flame of love within
Jehovahs brest,
Upon the day of
Penticost he came,
[Page 35]With cloven tongues, and in a fiery flame,
This spreading fire from
East to
West was hurl'd,
Whose holy sparks did kindle all the world;
Till
Antichrist did poyson this pure life,
And quench this heavenly fire with floods of strife:
But now he's come the second time, whose breath
Will plague the
Beast, and whip the
Whore to death.
Unto the sturdy
Plowman then I pass,
Such as of old the
Prophet Amos was;
Rid my
Love this way on his milk white
Steed?
Amos reply'd, thy
Lover is the
Seed;
He sows himself into thy fruitful mind,
That at the
Harvest he himself may find;
There's nothing but himself that he doth save,
All but himself lyes rotting in the Grave;
The perfect new man which from heaven descended
Returns, when this frail mortal life is ended;
Thy Soul's the
Land where he himself doth sow,
The
Spirits holy breath makes it to grow;
Refreshed by the heavens distilling rain,
It multiplies into a field of grain;
All flowers of
Paradice grow to delight 'um,
Grace after grace springs up
ad infinitum.
Inquiring of the
Shrubs, who weep and mourn,
Hanging their heads, this answer they return;
By resignation and humilitie,
A little
Plant becomes a stately
Tree;
But those are safest that are plac'd below;
Jehovah's thunder doth not overtake them,
The wildest
Hurricano cannot shake them:
They flourish like the
Lillies, without care;
He is their life, and they his being are.
I march among the
Rich hoping to find him,
Voluptuous pomp gave them no time to mind him;
Ratling of
Coaches in their brain did rout them,
A train of
Sycophants plac'd round about them,
Whose soothing language lavishly did measure
Their
Summum bonum to consist in pleasure.
The world's a
Hogstye, (O that word
hereafter!)
Where men like
Swine are fatted for the slaughter.
I row my
Boat unto the ragged shoar,
To the despised, rich, contented poor,
Who in the heavens have laid up all their treasure,
Where they have riches without end or measure.
Where rests my love, when
Sol at noon is riding
Upon his flaming
Steeds? where's his abiding?
He dwelleth in the low and humble mind,
That prostrate lyes before his feet resign'd.
Such simple innocence without all skill,
Like new-born babes that know no good nor ill,
Poor naked nothings, numbred with the dead,
Have sold their ornaments for heavenly bread;
[Page 37]Whose souls are purifyed from filthy mire,
By passing through the
Purgatorian fire:
A noble battail 'gainst themselves proclaim'd,
Their passions and affections wholly tam'd;
Great
Alexander with his noble crew,
Conquering the world, the world could not subdue;
Another
Empire large he had to win,
To tame that little world that was within:
We that are crown'd with double victory,
In these poor Coats are greater
Kings than he.
To the
Ʋniversity I set my face,
Among the
Rabbies of that reverend place:
I hunted out the chief for fame reputed,
And unexpectedly I was saluted
By one whose beard was snow, whose face was frost,
Train'd in the noble School of
Penticost,
In
Christ-church Colledge a resplendent light,
And by degree a learned
Jesuite;
Chief of that Order, with all knowledge blest,
Skil'd in the heavenly
Magick of the east;
'Twas one of those brave
Magi, that from far
Did visit
Jesus, guided by a
Star,
Offering rich presents,
Frankincense and
Spice;
To offer me his councel was not nice;
And that he might my lawful audience win,
He kist me thrice, and thus he did begin.
What vanity, on childish arts to look!
[Page 38]And leave unstudied thine own learned book;
Thy book hath but three leaves, leaves that are few,
The wisdom great, all that all worlds can shew:
Thy Soul's that noble book, wherein doth lye
Heaven, hell, and earth, time, and Eternity;
He that can read this book, he must inherit
The wisdom of the
Father, Son, and
Spirit:
This book hath long been claps'd and clos'd within,
Seal'd and shut up by th' angry
Cherubin:
In heaven and earth none worthy, none was fit,
But the dear
Lamb, God's heart, to open it;
To keep it lockt the anger did decree,
Love did unseal the book and set it free;
A
Library of books in this book find
Printed▪ and fairly written in thy mind,
Whose lines are gold indited by the
Dove,
Whose letters are the sparkling flames of love:
Teipsum nosce, leave their
tittle tattle,
And then thou knowest more then
Aristotle;
Study thy self, if thou wouldst knowledge win,
Faith will unlock the golden gate within:
Let wisdome bridle passions in the Soul,
Good Servants, but ill Lords, if they controul:
Hell lies in wait to crucify thy lover,
Heaven with it's
Angels at thy door doth hover,
Seraphick Angels with immortal power,
Thy
Guardian strength, attend thee every hour:
Vain roving thoughts, Moss troopers do way lay thee,
[Page 39]With their hail
Master, kiss thee to betray thee;
Thought follows thought as wave on waves do roul,
And all to steal away the wandring Soul;
Like thieving
Pickaroons, in
Neptunes hall,
They sail about thy brain to plunder all;
If they once bring thine heart unto their shoar,
Poor
Gally-slave they'l chain thee to the Oar;
O keep thine heart intire for him alone
Who rules the heavens, & makes thy heart his throne.
This lower world is a deceitful cage,
Where mortals act their part as on a stage:
Some march into the field, and some retreat,
Disguis'd like
Maskers, all is but a cheat:
Play how you please, when you have thrown your cast
Death comes and sweeps away the stake at last;
Look not so big, thy life is but a span,
'Tis a wise part to act the honest man;
For toys thy future bliss do not destroy,
Prepare thy mind for that sweet land of joy.
Where all things do in equal temper grow,
Nor hot nor cold, with you it is not so:
The torrid
Zone burns up the fruitful grass,
The frigid turns it all to icy glass;
There love and anger both together dwell,
A countrey seated between heaven and hell;
With you love friezes, and grows wondrous cold,
Our constant amities are never old.
That friendship which some thousand years hath run,
[Page 40]Is now as fresh as when it first begun.
Things alwayes present, nothing past and gone,
One heart, one mind, we number all by one.
Arithmetick with us allows not two,
To sing and love is all we have to doe.
In every soul love throws his flaming darts;
The flame's so great, no frost can frieze our hearts:
Incompast with the glories of the
Dove,
Whose gentle breath doth melt us into love.
Nothing so kind as he who is our brother,
Nothing so dear as we to one another.
Love without wrath, whose garment hath no spot,
Tyes all our hearts in one eternal knot.
No striving to be high or to be best,
For he's the greatest
Prince that is the least.
He stands upon the mount and is most tall,
Who is the humblest and the low'st of all;
Titles of honour, bubbles in the air,
Why should they soar? who noble
princes are;
Ambitious
Nimrods, who to heaven wo'd climbe,
The tower of honour, long before their time.
All aim at greatness, all men wo'd be
Kings:
They take their flight with raw unplumed wings;
Those that in sweet humility lye low,
Are lifted up whether they will or no.
To purchase
Dukedoms we take no delight,
The meanest Subject in this land's a
Knight;
The name of
Earl, what honour doth it bring
[Page 41]To him that is enthron'd a crowned
King?
We wear the crown which you now strive to win.
Look not on things below, but turn thou in
With all the strength of faith, and thou shalt see
The
Star that guided us will tutor thee:
He'l lay thy soul in such a slumbring trance,
Thou wilt admire thy former ignorance,
When he shall freely to thy Soul impart
The open cabinet of his rich heart;
[...]n the clear beams of loves eternal light,
The
Prophets and
Apostles, they did write:
Their book stood open, where was drawn in pages
The
History of all succeeding ages;
Things present, past, to come, as they did pass,
Were represented in a perfect glass;
And if their book of life were once unsealed,
All things to all man-kind would be revealed.
My time is spent appointed by the powers,
The
Angels call me to their cristal bowers;
Since thou must dwell among the Sons of men,
In this vain world a forlorn Citizen,
[...]ollow my Councel, and all
Idols quit,
The rock Self-love, where millions have been split:
Tis self that seeks to mount into the Saddle,
That he may murder
Jesus in the cradle;
[...]t swept like a dire plague, where e're it ran,
And hath infected all this world call'd
man,
[...]n an insulting domineering high rant,
[Page 42]Stalks in the steps of the
Sicilian Tyrant
This word call'd
Love, which makes the world run mad,
Hath now more faces than e're
Janus had;
Many false
loves there are, for in the tryal,
The
Touchstone proves there is but one that's loyal;
The
Puritan will sing an amorous
Sonnet,
To sensual
love the
Zelot vails his
Bonnet,
All light their
Torches at
Don Cupid's lamp;
This
bastard love hath not the royal stamp.
For some fair face
madmen and
fools will dye,
Because it is delightful to the eye.
For gold men sail o're Seas of flaming fire,
Because it gives them all they can desire;
Flowers, whose pleasing odors do excell,
We love not for themselves, but for their smell;
Whatsoe're pleaseth, all men strive to win it,
And at the bottome self is still within it:
This coin it will not pass, 'tis counterfeit,
Self love is grown to be a general cheat;
'Tis chaff that's blown away with every fan,
All creatures have this love as much as man;
Unfixed meteors like the wandring light,
Which doth deceive the
Passenger by night;
Friendship's dissolv'd, and love grows wondrous lean,
When greater interests do intervene;
Love from the fountain, which is rarely found,
Loves 'cause it loves, and hath none other ground.
Canst thou love loveliness when clouds do shade it,
[Page 43]Not for thy interest, but his that made it?
Canst thou with love and pity then bemoan it,
Because it hath his superscription on it?
Canst thou draw
Fountain-water from a puddle,
And swim in joy in the height and top of trouble?
Canst thou make crosses thy delight and pleasure,
And from the depths of hell drag heaps of treasure?
A
Virgin undefiled in the mire?
Eat
Thunderbolts and swallow flaming fire?
Canst thou with
Jonathan a
David take,
When
Scepter, Crown and
Kingdom, lye at stake?
Canst thou imbrace what all men discommend?
Call naked poverty thy bosome friend?
What mortals fear, canst thou shake hands with,
death,
When he doth come to blow away thy breath?
Couldst thou a sacrificed
Victim be
For him that lyes in wait to murder thee?
Canst thou write self i'th' number of the
Martyrs?
And lay poor
Lazarus where thy
Strumpet quarters?
Thy dear and onely
Isaac, canst thou leave him
In his fair hands from whom thou didst receive him?
Hast thou this love, though it be ne're so little?
Then thou hast something that deserves the title!
The mysteries this good man did unfold
I wish'd they had been written all in gold;
Transported with high wonder and delight,
Ending his speech, he vanisht out of sight.
To
Pharaoh's plenteous land I next did row,
[Page 44]Which famous fruitful
Nile did overflow:
The land was good but for a cursed law,
That I my self must gather all my straw:
To make my tale of
bricks, if I grew dull,
My shoulders paid the reckoning to the full;
And what was worse, my mind doth yet abhor it,
My work being done I had no wages for it;
Some that did sing and caroll all the day,
Carouse and tipple, they had all the pay;
These spent their time in merriment and laughing,
Rewarded richly with a crown for quaffing.
We feed and intercommon with the
swine,
They at their great Lords table daily dine.
To swallow bran and husks we are not nice,
They banquet on the fruit of
Paradice:
Imprison'd like a
blackbird in a
Cage,
Poor puddle-water is our
beverage;
Rich
Nectar cannot their quick pallate scape,
Nor the heart-blood of the most noble
grape;
With golden ornaments and silk arraid,
On beds of
down with
diamonds o'relaid
They rest, and feast in jollity and mirth:
Our bones in rags on the despised earth.
What e're they do, is paid with smiles and graces,
Our crimes are all unboweld to our faces,
For which, beside the sorrow and the cost,
Our backs are feasted at some
Whipping-post:
These have no other leader but the
Dove,
[Page 45]Their meat, their drink, their rich attire is love.
They
Kings and
Princes are; no cruel law,
Conscience to fright, or keep their minds in awe;
They dance, they sing, they frollick, sport and play,
For all the year is but one
holyday;
The father does the
work, the children play,
And yet the father does the children pay;
These children dear he kindly doth imbrace;
VVe are
Abortives and of
Bastard race;
VVith full deep draughts they drink all sorrow down,
The deepest
drinker wears the greatest
crown.
VVith oaths they tear the stars out of the skie,
And make the trembling fearful
Devils fly,
Frighting the
Hypocrite out of his wits,
Yet no dark cloud upon their conscience sits;
Moses is dead long since, who did command,
Jehovah takes the
Scepter in his hand:
Jesus the
God of love, his love imparts,
VVriting his Law of love in all their hearts;
O what is
Moses, what are all his laws,
VVanting the witness to maintain the cause;
The
Holy Spirit he can only cure ye,
He is the
Judge, the
witness, and the
Jury:
In
Pharaohs land the laws they were not good,
VVritten in
Characters of humane blood;
Those that dwelt here did labour to be poor,
Had this reward, to wash the
Blackamoor,
VVith menaces and blows, because they went
[Page 47]On their own errant, when they were not sent.
An unsure path, this was their overthrow,
They wait not till their Leader bid them go.
Instead of
Peters pallace headlong tumbling
Into the pit, where
Cerberus sits grumbling.
VVhat though
heaven-gate stand open all the year,
None but the
new man hath admittance there:
This little
Infant is that lovely boy,
That leads the Soul to everlasting joy.
I fled from hence when no body did mind me,
Leaving this
Countrey with a curse behind me:
Now for the
Wilderness with all my sails,
To gather
Manna, but I met with
Quails.
A merry
Crew with feasting and good cheer,
About a foolish
Calf were dauncing here;
Moses was in the
mount, where he did draw
Tables of
Stone; but who regards his
Law?
They'r not amaz'd, nor startle at the wonder,
Though it receiv'd it's birth in horrid thunder,
Unlike the
Gospel, that with gentle voice
Did make their hearts in melting tears rejoyce;
Bewailing these this in my mind did come,
How many
Calves are there in
Christendome?
And those that see old
Israel go astray,
Perhaps do worship
Calves as well as they.
VVhat quarrels ev'ry where, what fruitless odds?
About their wafer, water,
paper-gods;
VVe stile them
heathens who the
Stars did hallow,
[Page 46]Falling in zeal before their great
Apollo;
When those that see their error (that is known)
With open eye cannot behold their own;
All men are
Archers roving in the dark,
Their arrow flies to some mistaken mark.
Our aim should be at heaven alone, but O!
The earth is still between, we shoot too low;
Some
Dallila, some creature, we are wide all,
And every man's his own beloved
Idol:
The griping
Ʋsurer can take no rest,
For dreaming of his
Idol in the
Chest;
The ambitious man with new invented Oaths,
Swears by his honour, and his painted cloaths:
The
Lover's fetter'd in
Don Cupids cord,
The
Souldier boldly swears by his good sword;
The
Schollar on his
Concubine doth look,
Vows he will have no
Mistriss but his
Book;
He call's it
bigamy to sport and kiss,
Or marry any other
Wife but this;
Out of his little senses he doth run,
To find the earth dancing about the
Sun;
Man, man, too little, or too much doth prize,
'Tis safe to love, but not to
Idolize,
Wife, children, lands, descent from noble birth,
Titles of honor,
Demy-gods on earth.
Rather then fail abroad, at home we find,
Millions of
Images within the mind,
Neat
Images carv'd out with curious art,
[Page 48]And all those flatt'ring
Idolls of the heart;
As
Cannon-bullets with impetuous force
Cut through the air, taking their violent course,
Not resting, though they fly with eager wing,
Til they return to earth whence they did spring.
So man, whose Soul's a sparkle of that flame,
Breath'd by the
Holy spirit, whence it came,
Like
Noahs dove can find no steddy footing,
Till it reenter where he had his rooting:
In the true ballance 'tis most just and fit,
To give the Soul to him that framed it.
'Twill stand in no place but where it first grew,
'Tis general peace when
Caesar hath his due.
This makes the IV to quarrell in great pain,
Strugling and striving to return again:
Into the only one pure element,
Their first dear mother where they have content:
This is the root of all their disagreeing,
Because they are not in their pristine being;
For which the universal frame doth mourn,
Groaning with sighs, and panting to return:
Israel for forty years was try'd and tost.
But I could stay no longer in this coast,
This countrey could not win my approbation,
It look'd so like the land of desolation;
Where parching
Southern winds do always blow
Where
Corn and
grass was never known to grow;
For
Canaan now wing'd with the rosy morn.
[Page 49]That holy land where my dear
Prince was born;
I found those sweet and blessed habitations
Were
Joshua dwelt, possest by barbarous nations;
King Davids greatness like a
Dream was gone,
And all the gloryes of
King Solomon:
Old
Jacob said with grave and reverent brow,
The land thou seest, it is not
Canaan now;
Canaan a garden, which the heavens did dress,
Is now become a barren
wilderness;
Here in this land a Sun arose most bright,
Whose luster to the lower world gave light;
The Son of God, the glory of each nation,
In flesh and blood took up his habitation:
To bless the world he from my loins did spring;
But he that was my Son, is now my
King.
Transplendent light seal'd with
Jehovahs stamp,
My bastard children quench'd this glorious lamp;
This land, which
Prophets and
Apostles nurst,
Is for their crying murthering crime accurst,
For which they are dispers'd in ev'ry part.
Would'st thou see
Canaan, 'tis within thy heart;
This is
King Davids Scepter, and his throne,
This is the temple of
King Solomon.
Ʋrim and
Thummim seek, and thou shalt find,
Holy of holies is within thy mind,
Wrestle with
God as I did, boldly wrestle,
Like some brave Souldier when he storms a
Castle,
Or's mounting up to some strong
Cittadell,
[Page 50]Victorious faith doth conquer heaven and hell.
The fearfull
coward meets with many a cross,
Returning from the battel still with loss:
Laodicea was reprov'd of old,
For her
Lukewarmness, neither hot nor cold;
In mine encounter I did boldly say,
I am resolv'd to die, or win the day:
'Tis known through all the world, I do not boast,
I did incounter with the Lord of
host,
Who holdeth in his hand
lightning and fire,
Till he had granted all I could desire.
I would not let him go, but held him fast
In my strong arm of confidence imbrac't;
In this power
Labans craft I overcame,
Chang'd
Esau's
Lyon to a gentle
lambe;
And in the vision which was clearly given,
Faith is the ladder which doth reach to heaven;
Earth link'd to heavenboth kingdoms comprehending,
Throne-
Angels swift ascending and descending.
'Twas not a mess of
pottage rarely drest,
Cookt out with art, to furnish
Esau's feast;
All conquering faith begat that princely boy,
Give me the blessing which you now enjoy,
Promis'd to
Abraham for's resignation,
In
Isaac's line, a crown to ev'ry nation;
The blessing fix'd in ev'ry revolution,
Though
Solomons Temple had its dissolution.
All outward glories are ecclips'd and gone,
He is, he was before the world begun;
All things do praise his name, why should not man?
Uncomprehended, all things comprehending,
His glory no beginning hath, nor ending.
The
Angels sing inspir'd with heavenly flame,
All glory, glory, glory, to his name;
Spirits of just men in a holy dance,
Lift up their hands for their deliverance;
Rejoycing that the tree which knowledge bore,
Blasted in their fair garden, grows no more,
Torn by the root with all its bastard race,
The tree of
Life replanted in the place.
The
Nightingal in warbling roundelaies,
Doth make the
Vallies eccho forth his praise.
The little
Lark mounts up with soaring wing,
As he wo'd teach the
Cherubins to sing.
About
Religion they are not at odds,
But sing as merrily as the old
Gods:
The little worms which on the earth do crawl,
Boldly intitle him, their
all in all.
All disagreeing forms in this agreeing,
He is, he was, the being of all beings.
And thou with cheerfull heart, chant forth his praise,
Although thy pen cannot deserve the bays;
Keep on that humble pace thou hast begun,
Untill thy glass it's utmost
Sand hath run.
[Page 52]Enough was said to satisfie my mind,
I could not see, for
Love had made me blind;
Love hath no ears nor eyes, I call, I cry,
Give me my
Love again for whom I die;
Let
Cupids army all their forces joyn,
Angels to boot, no
Love was e're like mine:
Bring
Damons Love to
Pithias on the stage,
Who fear'd not death, nor
Dyonisiu's rage:
Set
Davids love to his dear
Jonathan,
Bring all the love of all men into one,
Bring womans too, whose quick mild sparkling beams
Makes them most excellent in both extreams;
Yet mine excells, exceeds them all as far
As great
Apollo doth the meanest star.
The
Ʋsurer, Italian-like, in's brest
Locks his dear
Dallila, in his dark chest.
The
love to woman doth with beauty die,
If
Vertues chain be not the sacred tie:
But mine that cannot perish in the tasting,
Is like the noble object
everlasting;
A
love unmeasurable, and unbounded,
Where firm Foundation cannot be confounded:
Why then mine only joy dost thou remove,
From him that hath no life but in thy
love?
The very earth where thou thy foot dost set,
Doth smell more sweet than
Rose or
Violet.
My happiness, my dear delight is lost,
He's gone to heaven, and thither will I post;
[Page 53]If any
Spirit in my way shall stand,
Angels, Arch-angels, are at my command;
Faith joyn'd with love controuleth the abyss,
And forceth entrance where no entrance is;
It batters walls, and breaks down ev'ry fence,
For heaven it self is won by violence;
It charms the
Lyons heart with sacred
Spell,
They have no power to touch a
Daniel;
Subdueth
Tyrants, and their armed band,
Walks on the
Sea as if it were dry land;
It cuts a passage through the watry Stream,
And raiseth
Laz'rus from his drouzy dream:
The walls of
Jericho it doth deflowr,
It stormeth hell, and conquers heaven with power,
Commandeth trembling
Devils to retreat,
Removeth lofty mountains from their Seat;
It bids one
Sea divide it self in two;
What thing so difficult
Faith cannot do?
Our
Souls are tinder, burning in desire,
Faith is the flint that striketh up the fire;
Which being kindled by the gentle
Lamb,
The
Spirit blows, and turns it all to flame.
My dear and only
jewel do not fly me,
Arm'd with this faith, thy power can't deny me;
It is decreed, though thousand deaths I die,
Nothing shall seperate my
Love and I;
Through
Daniels furnace, and the flames of hell,
I'le pass to find where my dear
Love doth dwell.
[Page 54]Let hell heap all her fire, fuell on fuell,
Nor heaven nor hell shall rob me of my
jewell;
Though all created things should strive to thwart us,
Devils, nor men, nor
Angels shall not part us:
With him for ever I'm resolv'd to dwell,
Without whose presence heaven it self were hell.
O what were
Paradice, if we could win it,
Heaven is not heaven, and my sweet
Lord not in it:
That heaven is heaven, where all delights do grow;
It is the smiling eye that makes it so;
His frown's the house of torment, and of night;
'Tis
paradice to be his
Favourite;
My Soul's a prisoner, none but
love can bail her,
Give me that
Prison, where
love is the
Gaoler.
Hearing my cries, and into pitty breaking,
He was within me while I was thus speaking;
Words that did love and pitty, both provoke them,
Though I was ignorant, 'twas he that spoke them;
He toucht mine heart, but I had lost my feeling,
He like the rock did stand, but I was reeling:
With amorous
wine mad drunk, my heart lay panting,
Something I wanted, knew not what was wanting;
I sought in forrain countreys every way,
For that rich
pearl which in my bosome lay;
Through
Asia, Europe, Affrica I roam,
Hunting abroad, my
Jewell was at home.
He present was, his presence unrevealed,
[Page 55]He stood before me, but mine eyes were sealed.
His seeming distance was a piercing dart,
Though he was never absent from my heart;
He alwayes lodged in mine heart I see,
'Twas my beloved was that faith in me;
I knock at heavens bright gate, my way was blocedk,
It was not I, but he in me, that knocked;
Who like a wanton
lamb, or skipping
Hind,
In jollity was sporting in my mind;
With holy violence the door flew open,
The brazen locks, all bolts and bars were broken.
Enter the Royal Fort which thou hast gained,
Fountain of wisdom, holy love unstained;
Take up thy lodging in my smiling eye,
Wherein unknown, unmeasured treasures lye;
With keenest
arrow draw thy bended bow,
But when thou aim'st, aim not at things below:
Thou shoot'st at such a mark, that will deceive thee,
When storms arise, these treacherous friends will leave thee;
They fleet & flutter like the air that's ranging,
All
Sublunaries subject are to changing:
The
Stars and Plannets, like the giddy
Ocean,
Wander uncertainly with wanton motion
This day, as their aspects would never fade,
Before the next morn they run retrograde.
If
Jupiter the knot of
love doth tye,
Saturn and
Mars dissolve the harmony;
Hath
Venus a fine web of friendship spun,
[Page 56]
Mercury ravells all that she hath done;
Though
Sol be hot,
Luna is wondrous cold,
Fresh youthful amities on earth grow old;
Art thou infected with some strong disease,
Why dost thou run unto the
Stars for ease?
How can thy Soul be cur'd with poisonous plaisters?
These are thy Servants, make them not thy Masters.
Their whirling wheel is alwayes running round,
Build not thy hope on such uncertain ground;
Though by thy fall thou art of low degree,
I'le mount thee to a throne, and marry thee;
That I am
Lord all creatures they shall know,
I made thee
King Vicegerent here below:
By disobedience thou didst forfeit all,
I'le make thee greater, stronger by thy fall;
I'le land thee on the sweet delightfull Shore,
The land of
Peace whence thou canst fall no more.
Thou art my
Virgin-bride, I will assure thee,
With endless joys my heart shall be thy Dowry:
Treasures and pleasures of the greatest price,
With all the gloryes of sweet
Paradice;
In mine infolded arms I
[...]le gently take thee;
When all the world of slippery friends forsake thee.
The world doth love it self, it's own is dearest,
When it is furthest off, then am I nearest.
When friendly death shall cut thy fatall clue,
Thine extream unction, shall be Hallelue;
Death shall no
Cobling nor no
Bugbear be,
[Page 57]But a safe passage to felicity.
A friendly
Ferry-man to waft thee o're,
Safe from all danger to th'
Elysian shore.
What if he take this garment off that's worn,
Withered with age, with
winters fury torn?
From mine own
Wardrobe I will cloath my
Dear,
With garment rich, such as the
Angels wear;
I'le give thee
Adams garment without spot,
When he was naked, and yet knew it not;
Rivers of heavenly
wine full to the brim,
Wherein the
Prophets and
Apostles swim;
Anthems of joy, thy Soul for ever singing,
The
Tree of
life in thine own bosome springing;
With all the favours of my love I'le grace thee,
With
Doves and towring
Eagles I will place thee,
With all the little
lambs that know no guile,
With constant
Martyrs that in death did smile;
With
Cherubins and
Seraphims inrol'd,
And all the princely
Patriarchs of old,
VVith
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the
Quire
That chant my praises on
King Davids lyre.
And thou that dost delight in humble verse,
Poor homely strains, my glory to rehearse,
Chanting my praise and
Babels overthrow,
Shalt sing a new
Song which thou dost not know;
Thy
Ship hath sail'd on
Seas where billows roar,
On thy right hand behold the pleasant shoar;
Now having run thy rude tempestuous race,
[Page 58]Thy travells end, cast
Anchor in this place.
This is the place of pleasure and delight,
Upon this Rock thy
ne plus ultra write;
Set up thy
Pillar here, 'tis holy ground,
This is the Rock which hell cannot confound;
My sleep unto its period now was come,
I wisht 'thad lasted till the day of doom.
The miracles I saw in this short
Dream,
For some brave
[...] were a noble
Theam,
Sweet flowing pens, tears from all eyes compelling,
But mine perhaps hath spoyl'd the
Tale in telling;
The Sight, strange wonder and amazement drew,
For when I wak'd, I found it to be true.
ITER Bevoriale.
I sing no civil war, nor what did fall
To
Palmerine or
Am
[...]dis de gaul:
Prince Arthurs story shall no paper blot,
Nor the conceited pranks of
Don Quixot;
If mad
Orlando wild and furious be,
What's his divine
Angellica to me?
Rouze they that list the
Lyon in his den,
A brisk and
Bonny-Tale flows from my pen;
Like the idle
dreams fanta
[...]ue
Poets faign,
Or those fond
Fables Midwives entertain
Over a smiling cup of simpering
Ale
Of tall
Tom Thumb, and doughty
Jack o' th'
Vale.
Now lend your ear, as we from
Belvoir came,
Own'd by a noble Lord, and princely
Dame,
All our discourse, our welcome, and our
[...]
Our merry hearts light, as our
Purses were:
We had no ships at
Sea, to make us sad,
Lost in a tempest when the winds are mad;
We never did abuse the
Commonweal,
By vertue of our place, and the
Broad Seal,
As some Land
Pirates, nor all down the hate
[Page 60]And heavy curse of an incensed
State;
We broach no projects, no inventions brew,
Nor damn old
Doctrine by inventing new:
Plunder the publick for our private gain,
Nor are we
Spyes or
Pentioners to
Spain:
I hope it is no
Treason then to sing,
And say,
God bless our Soveraign Lord the KING.
With such cleer Souls like sober
Snails we creep
To our desired
Harbour where we sleep
Sounder than
Swallows, or industrious
Bees,
Who rest all winter in old hollow trees.
Sol now is climbing up the Eastern hill,
Our
mornings-draught good boy, and then a
Bill.
[...]
imis Sawee, what Reck'ning have we here?
[...]m for
Fire, Tobacco, wine and Beer:
Summa totalis: Well the to'ther pot,
And then thy
Mistriss lip shall cleer the shot.
So taking leave of ev'ry
Chamberlain,
Lo at the door, the
Ghost of
Tamberlain,
Of bulk as burly as an
Oak, stood forth
A sturdy
Gallant sailing from the
North:
Fair
Sirs, said he, will you be pleas'd to own
A wandring
Traveller that is unknown;
The ways are foul, and we have far to ride,
He that's alone doth measure ev'ry stride:
That in the tented field I have been bred,
Where winking
Stars have lighted me to bed,
Circled with pale-fac'd
Death on ev'ry side,
[Page 61]
[...]s such a truth that cannot be deny'd;
[...]eap you the pleasure of my passed broils,
[...]eed on my language, and forget the miles.
To this in courtesie we did consent,
[...]o up we got, and on our Journey went.
To pay my love, which he accounts a charge,
[...]e draws the
Picture of his life at large:
[...]y
Jove said he, I more degrees have run,
Than
Drake or
Candish, or the trav'ling
Sun;
[...]he proudest
Kingdoms in the world have kist
[...]y wandring foot, I have them in a list,
[...]uina, Madagascar, and
Japan;
[...]ook in the
Map, the world is but a span,
[...]e
Globe a
Foot-ball kickt from pole to pole;
[...]e that hath
Gold is sure to win the
Goale.
[...]y self first found the passage to
Cathay,
[...]rra del Fogo, and
incognita;
[...]hot the
Gulph, leapt o're the Line at noon,
[...]hence passed to the new world in the
moon;
[...]he horrid battails, O the dismall wars
[...]hat I have seen, witness these speaking skars,
Which like so many gaping mouths appear,
[...]nd I as
bracelets on my limbs do wear.
[...]s language was all
Thunder, when he spake,
[...]e thought the center of the earth did shake.
[...]y
Sanco panco, much dejected
Reeve,
[...]ke a pale Image pulls me by the sleeve;
[...]en whispers in mine ear, good Sir be wise,
[Page 62]Do you not see those pistols in his eyes
That shoot me dead? are all thy spirits fled?
Where's that grave
Oracle? that subtle head
VVrapt in a
Turbant Mahomet put on,
VVhen he did frame his foolish
Alchoran.
Thy body too, in more warm woollen clad
Than thy great
Grandsire; courage then my
Lad;
Intrench'd in thine own
Pallisado ly,
And all the Instruments of death defy.
Gun, Dagger, Sword, Grannado, and
Petar,
VVhat other engines by the Sons of war,
At hand devis'd for slaughter, or aloof,
A
wastcoteer so lin'd is
Cannon-proof.
VVords are but wind, the silly
Swain was sick,
By nature and complexion
Phlegmatick.
A trembling
Palsy on his heart did sit,
Like one arrested with an
Ague-fit,
At last kind Soul he weeps, shaking his head,
VVith broken hollow voice, Sir we are dead,
VVe are beset, besieg'd, by Sea and land;
And his companions in each corner stand
Like forlorn
Scouts, see see y'on yonder hill?
I nothing see, but
Bushes and a
Mill.
O they are men, it is in vain to fly,
And I alas am not prepar'd to dy.
I have that golden
bait, that dainty dish,
For which these greedy
Cormorants do fish;
False
Traytor to betray me in distress,
[Page 63]Accursed
gold I never lov'd thee less;
VVith all my heart, wo'd I were rid of thee,
A hand to boot, so my dear life were free.
How will my wife and children entertain
The heavy news, to hear that I am slain?
My sides grew fat with laughter at the man,
Methought they were inlarg'd more than a span;
Yet putting on a seeming face of fear,
VVhen lo, my Servant who did over-bear
All our discourse, and understood my mind,
Spurs up his Palfry swifter than the wind;
Breathless a while he pauses, then in hast
Tells the bold
Cavaleer all that had past:
And that he may be suted for the
Scean,
Lays open all
Johns gold, his heart I mean.
The morn was close, fit for the work in hand,
A misty darkness covers all the Land;
His liquid fear did much increase by this,
And
Fear the mother of devotion is;
His Soul extracted from immortal birth
Had till this hour been buried in the earth,
But now was fairly travelling to heaven,
Large his accounts, and how to make them even
His time was little, but his voyage long,
His faith was weak, his sins were wondrous strong,
Yet now he sends his hovering thoughts before,
Like nimble spyes to scale the narrow doore.
Up comes my
Gallant, on whom
John did look
[Page 64]As doth the pris'ner that's deny'd his book.
But he grim
Sir, pitching his subtle hay,
Least over acting should undoe the
play:
Inquires how rotten sheep did stand that year,
VVhat prices cattel, corn, and wool did bear;
Seasons and times, for selling and for seeding,
As if his whole time had been spent in reading
Old
Almanacks nine
Summers out of date;
On whom he leans, more than the book of
Fate.
Then
Bookers Prophecies he doth unfold,
Valued with those
Scybilla sang of old.
O happy men said he, who never roame
In forraign countreys from your native home;
Your days with plenty crown'd, ending your lives
In the chast arms of your beloved wives:
But we torn from our cradles to be hurl'd
By cruel fate into the rugged world,
Like
Bastards of the earth at our return,
Incounter nothing but contempt and scorn:
VVhere you in pitty of our wants allow,
VVretched reward, a halter and a bough.
But by this steel, this steel that I unsheath,
E're I will end my days so dry a death.
A grinning wry-mouth'd death, Ile kill
pell mell
Five hundred
churls, and send them all to hell:
And this by
Mars, and all the
Gods I swear.
The amazed
Swain seeing the storm so near,
For shelter sought his fearful head to hide,
[Page 65]His rusty
Sword hung loosely by his side.
But he thereon dare not his safety build,
His
Rippon Spurs are now both sword and shield.
His foaming
Steed companion of his fright,
Did like a
Whirl-wind, snatch him from our sight:
We follow after like the greedy
Hound,
And when he cannot to our eye be found,
We haunt him by the nose; for in the wind,
The
Fox had left a filthy scent behind:
In this sweet pickle, melancholly sick,
Bath'd all in Sweat, and something that did stick
Like yellow
Birdlime, to his limber thighs,
The stingless
Bee to his own cottage flies;
'Tis true, he brought no
Honey to his
Hive;
But
Wax good store: 'twas well he scap'd alive.
His
Wife salutes him, in whose welcome arms,
In brief he tells part of his passed harms;
The rest he apprehends; for out of doubt
The witty
Girl soon smelt the matter out.
On the Royal Soveraign.
PRoteus grand
Shepherd of the foaming deep,
That feed'st thy scaley herds like flocks of sheep,
Hold up thy shaggie head; lo here doth come
A greater miracle than
Thetis womb
Did ever bear; a royal frame compos'd
May vie with
Noahs Vessel, that inclos'd
All natures store; who else had found her grave,
A floating
Island dancing on the wave.
So
Delos wandering
Isle, or
Poets feign,
Till mighty
Jove did fix her in the main.
In ages that succeed why may not she
Pull'd from the Sea, part of the firm land be?
Part did I say; how vainly do I doat?
Thou art a little world; the world a boat
Compar'd to thee: the passenger no more
Salutes thee for a Ship, but for a shoar:
Who scorch'd with heat, then nipt with northern blast
With storm and tempest toss'd, when he at last
His long desired harbour sees at hand,
Shall spring for joy, and throw himself on land.
[Page 67]The nice
Philosopher with curious eye,
Finds in the horned
Moon a Collonie:
As they to us, why may not this afar
Appear to them to be a blazing
Star?
But whether thou a
Star or
Comet be,
That wandering world stands gazing now on thee,
On thee their
Sun: blest nations of the night
Who from thy beams receive their borrowed light,
Neptune no more a god, for thou shalt reign
Star of the Sea and shine in
Charles his VVain.
A Poetical Strain.
To Dr.
Hiam Theolog. Medicum.
I were uncharitable should I desire
Consumption, pestilence, fierce raging fire
Of scorching Feaver, Surfet, and the
Wench,
That borrows English coyn, but pays in
French;
Cold poisonous air, hot meteors that inflame,
With thousand others which I fear to name,
Should blast the widdowed world and make her wear
[...]
A mourning weed: thy fame and art t' indear.
My
Love shall be more modest, I will pray
Thy charms may conjure all these
Fiends away.
May'st thou by quintessence of thy great skill
Restore more lives then
Mountebanks do kill;
While they imploy'd to cure the leprous
Itch,
The worms in children, or some
Female stitch
Got by a wanton slip, from
Pispots win
Brown-bread, and thread-bare-cloaths; or in the sin
[...]
Share with the
Devil, and converse with
Smocks,
Til they themselves be peppered with the
Pox.
[Page 69]Mayst thou things high and excellent acquire;
That all thy Tribe may envy and admire;
The
Gout, the
Stone, which ope' the
Ʋsurers eye
To see the torture, rack, and crueltie,
Which he hath laid on others; for his health,
Wo'd now (tho' unwilling) part with all his wealth,
Be fully cur'd by thee; but not before
His bags be safely landed on thy shoare;
And thou with this rich prize so justly won,
Build
Hospitals for those he hath undone.
May the young frie fall sick, grow lean and wan,
And long for thee more than they do for man.
May every female-patient be a lover,
By feeling of their pulse let them recover
Green-sickness: VVere their fame and honour fled
[...]et them redeem both that and
Maiden-head,
[...]et them from all diseases be set free
Not by thy
Drugs, but confidence in thee.
[...]et aged
Madams on whose furrowed brow
[...]ald time hath worn deep wrinkles with his plow,
Their hour-glass turn as full of juicie sap
[...]s when they danced in their mothers lap:
[...]ick nature by thy help as healthful grow,
[...]s when our father
Adam held the plow:
[...]ay all thy
Patients live the perfect date
Of old
Methusalem, and in a state
[...]s strong. And thou for making others sound
With glorious immortality be crown'd.
Two Poetical Epistles to two Friends.
Epist. 1.
VVHen all things out of frame grow wondro
[...] scurvy,
And nature from her course turns tops
[...] turvy;
When horses ride on men with
Spur and
Switch,
And
Schollars do put down their masters
britch;
When
Princes to their people do stand bare,
When
Dogs do fly before the fearful
Hare,
When Maids command their Mistresses by patten,
When
beggars ruffle in their
Silk and
Sattin,
When
Ostlers teach their horses
Greek and
Lattin▪
When
Gallants walk on foot, and
foot-men ride,
When
Noble-men run
lacquies by their side:
[Page 71]When th' elements from natures course do turn,
VVhen fire shall drown the earth, and water burn;
VVhen lofty mountains congee to the vale,
VVhen
Pigs sing sweeter then the
Nightingale,
VVhen Pearls and Oisters grow on Oaken trees,
VVhen in the midst of
Summer it shall freeze,
VVhen all this comes to pass, which cannot be,
Yet shall I then prove faithfull unto thee.
Epist. 2.
GIve me a
Sidney's
Pen, which dipt in wine
Made his
Philoclea more then half divine:
Summon the
Poets, none shall march before us,
Thou my
Pancela, I thy
Musidorus.
Shepherds, and
Shepherdesses, fram'd in story
To mint a
female, made of
Masc'line glory;
Muster to these all the brave old
Commanders,
The
Scipio's, Caesars, and the
Alexanders,
VVith bills and swords they made all nations flie:
But
Livia with the
Magick of her eye,
Doth lead the world in chains of love divine,
Conq'ring all hearts; I'm sure sh' hath conquered mine.
Since I am grown to be thy
Gally-slave,
Give me the priviledge which prisn'ers have,
My liberty being lost, by
Cupids charms,
To live and die a pris'ner in thine arms.
Nectar, Ambrosia, purely here I sip;
The
Muses nine they all dwell on thy lip.
Swimming in love, no pleasure now shall pass us,
Thou art my
Hellicon and my
Parnassus.
On a Gentleman who lost his Mistress called Nancy, (at the same time) also his Hawk of the same Name.
VVilt thou forsake me thus my dearest
Nancy,
To wander o're the world in a wild fancy,
To couple with an
Owl wantonly ranging
Til thou hast cloy'd thy self with often changing?
An
Eagle was my
Dove,
True, as the
Turtle-Dove
If she a faller prove,
Farewel my
Nancy.
Come my bird of
Paradice thus I conjure thee,
Illo, ho, ho, my love, when I did lure thee
Thou would'st come stooping down like clap of Thunder,
And like a falling star cleave the air asunder.
Then hovering o're my head,
Whoo, hoop, the game is dead;
Yet thou art from me fled,
Farewel
&c.
Thy feathers were more soft then maiden tresses,
I gave thee bells to wear,
Varvels and jesses,
Casting to keep thee clean
Made of white Flannel,
VVhen thy limbs bathing were,
I was thy Spani'l,
I gave the stones good store,
Yet thou dist play the whore,
And wilt return no more.
Farewel
&c
Sweet
Plover was thy food,
Patridge and
Pigeon,
Thrush, Feldifare and
Snipe
Woodcock and
Widgeon,
Quail, Pheasant, Duck and
Teal,
the pretty
Bunting,
And she that sweetly sings
whilst she is mounting.
Yet thou art gone astray,
On worms and mice to prey,
Beetles that shun the day.
Farewel
&c.
Now since thou art so coy
If e're I catch thee,
False
Kite, to keep thee tame
I'le sit and watch thee;
I'le hood those rouling eyes
that shoot at rovers,
And mew thee in a cage from thy fond lovers.
Cupid's a wanton child,
True lovers are beguil'd,
Ware
Hawk and
Wenches wild.
Farewel
&c.
A cold Journey, and cold Entertainment.
UNto a countrey farm I lately came,
Where I hung like a picture in a frame,
'Twas in the wintrie cold month of
December,
Her frosty frowns forget, her smiles remember.
Fare would content
Apicius to his mind,
Then who dare say my
Landlord was unkind.
His
broth was wondrous good, but with the ladle
He bang'd my noddle, till my brains grew addle.
A trembling
School-boy I demurely stand
My master with a ferrula in his hand
If I but blow my nose, or wink, or nod,
Or smile, or look awry, fetch me my rod:
Poor men are fools, wisdom attends the rich;
Which made me readily put down my brich.
He that at great mens tables takes a seat,
Hath freedom to do nothing else but eat;
If he have wit he must not spread his banners,
For that were blasphemy against good manners;
[Page 77]This learned Lesson my
Praeceptor knew,
His what, his when, and why, even to a cue.
Quick-ey'd he was to see and understand,
And alwayes carried in his reverend hand
A multiplying glass, wherein was shewn
The errors of mankind, all but his own.
The good and evil mixt, made me believe
This was the garden where our mother
Eve
Upon that cursed fruit did freely feed,
Which poisoned her self, and all her seed.
Words steep'd in vinegar, and spending money;
Hemlock and
[...]itter
wormwood, mixt with
honey:
Such as poor beggars purchase to their cost,
A gentle aims, and then a whipping-post.
I came invited to this double banquet,
Laid in a bed of down, tost in a blanket;
The
Gospel here, there,
Moses bloody banners,
A
lincic-woolsie Medly of all manners:
Kindness, unkindness, should I sum up all,
Sugar two ounces with one ounce of Gall.
Which being tempered with the oyl of
Saunders,
Would make an excellent med'cine for the
Glaunders;
Hallo my fancy whither wilt thou fly?
Hath my kind host some faults, and have not I?
God pardon all; O be not too sharp sighted,
If he be in the dark, thou art benighted.
He's in the oven, and I am in the fire,
He's in the dirt, and I wade in the mire.
[Page 79]He hath some pimples on his face that shine:
And have not I, poor I! a
mole on mine?
Now that I may not crow, or hang the wing,
In equal ballance let me weigh the thing:
The good I have receiv'd I will inroll,
Fairly ingraved in a marble scroll;
All stains and blemishes I'l blot with Ink,
And not to see I'l shut mine eyes and wink.
Ʋpon my return hence, with little wit, and less money, being alone; I took a dangerous fall from my Horse.
REnowned
Drake from Pole to Pole was hurl'd,
In his long voyage round about the world:
Such strange, miraculous wonders, could not see,
As I, who shot a greater gulf than he;
When I fell from my horse in deadly swoon,
Where I saw stars, to
Ticho Brache unknown;
Fire from mine eyes did flame, the skies flew open,
My back quoth I, and all my ribs are broken.
Here I beheld as I lay on the ground,
In pain and grief, that th'
Ʋniverse went round:
Upon my back, which made me much dismaid,
The burthen of the world was wholly laid.
[Page 80]A fancy took me which did little please,
That I was sailing to th'
Antipodes;
Had not some mountains interpos'd my way,
I had discovered them that fatal day.
False friends, and dirty ways, henceforth forbear;
Dull jades and winter journeys, I forswear:
With pitty to poor carriers, forc't to goe
O're rocks of ice and monstrous hills of snow;
Let others travell countreys strange, to see
Surely I thought 'twas the
worlds end with me.
A DIALOGUE. A conference between two plain countreymen,
Tom, and
Will, about deep matters of Religion.
CANTO.
Tune — The Drainers are up
Tom.
Good Neighbour
Will, I prethee be plain,
With what religion shall we close,
Since every
Sect doth stifly maintain
That the tree of life in their garden grows?
Will. Ic'h tell thee
Tom, 'chave found the best,
Whatever men do write or say,
If thy vessel be bound for the city of rest,
True neighbourly love is the only way.
[Page 82]Let us fly away from the land of strife,
The
Lamb hath bought us with a price,
And post to the holy river of life
Which glideth through our
Paradice.
See how those heavenly streams do set
To fill our Souls with a living flood,
The tree of knowledge we will forget,
But the tree of life shall be our food.
The way to this river so pure and so cleer,
Which through the valley of love doth glide,
By resignation we must steer,
Humility is our faithful guide.
By faith we travell to a princely town
Which wise men do call
the fathers will,
Here we in the
Sabaoth of rest will sit down,
And set up our tents on
Mount Sion's hill.
In the Ocean of love let us freely swim:
To thee, my
Joy, I drink this cup,
Come fill up the bowl unto the brim,
'Tis liquor divine, then drink it all up;
Drink merrily
Tom, the
Fountain it flows,
We have no enmity nor gall;
This cup to our friends, and this to our foes,
A hearty carouze we tipple to all.
Tom.
Let us take the to 'ther pull,
[Page 83]This liquor will make all darkness fly,
Why should we spare? the
Fountain is full,
And never can be drained dry.
Let greedy
Misers wade in the mire,
Let squint-ey'd envy murder his brother,
Let hatred and malice remain in the fire,
Pure
Nectar we drink and love one another.
Let
Pharisees pray till their knees grow bare,
Let
Gamesters cog the subtle dye
Let
Huntsmen pursue the silly
Hare
Let sober
Citizens cozen and lie;
Let
Courtiers dissemble, let
Scholars read
The quirks and quibbles of old
Aristotle,
Let
Souldiers fight, let
Littleton plead,
We'l cheerfully tame the to'ther bottle.
From
North to
South, from
East to West
Inventions through the world do range,
Opinions in fine garments drest
Like blazing
Comets of the brain,
About religion they make foul work,
And into bloody wars they fall,
The
Heathen, the
Jew, the
Christian, the
Turk,
This liquor will reconcile them all.
The flowers drink the pearly dew,
Like merry drunkards all in a row,
[Page 84]What though they are of various hue
In neighbourly love together grow;
They merrily tipple and sweetly agree,
No quarrell about their cups they move,
They drink to each other, then why should not we
Drink liberal cups of innocent love?
A SONG.
TUNE. Such a Rogue's a Round-head.
What's he who breaks the thunder crack,
And bids the raging Sea go back,
Unto his voice inclined;
Who doth the angry Ocean still,
And makes the winds obey his will?
Jehovah unconfined.
What's he who gives the
Sparrows meat,
And moves the rocks out of their seat,
Where first they were designed;
Who doth the crystal Springs invite,
And cloaths the lillies all in white?
Jehovah unconfined.
VVhat's he who doth the stars advance,
VVhil'st round about the
Globe they dance,
VVith earth-quake and with thunder;
Destroys great Cities of renown,
And makes the hills come tumbling down?
It is the
Lord of wonder.
The
Tyger I do keep in awe
And to the
Lyon am a law
By my sole power confined;
'Tis I that bound the Sea and land,
Yet I above all bounds do stand,
Jehovah unconfined.
With
Eagles wings survey all lands
Number th' innumerable sands,
And write them in a story;
View every thing that's gone and past,
Though time it self must end at last
There's no end of my glory.
The clouds I suck out of the Seas,
And make them fall where I do please
To fill the earth with treasure;
The Sea, the Sands, the stars survey,
The mountains in a ballance weigh,
My power thou canst not measure.
All things do in and to me flow,
The things above and those below
Are Servants to my pleasure;
The heighths, the depths, are in my hand,
The bredths and lengths at my command,
My power thou canst not measure.
The
Rant is dead, the
Quake must dy,
All forms before my presence fly,
By my sole power designed,
The Names they are the stumbling stone,
Eternal life in all is one.
Jehovah unconfined.
Thy wisdom, will, and holy shew,
Must perish like the early dew;
And when thou art resigned,
I'le take thee in mine arms again,
For I in thee alone will reign
Jehovah unconfined.
If sweetness be thy souls delight,
Carnation, Pink, and
Lillies white,
All flowers bound up in posies,
Arabian Gums and
Indian spice,
My bosome is the
Paradice
The
Paradice of
Roses.
The secret Cabinets below,
Where yellow gold and silver grow
Do all obey my pleasure,
Pearls, Diamonds, that sparkling be,
All these am I, come dwell with me,
And I will be thy treasure.
A Catholick Hymn.
TUNE. If there be a Phoenix in the world, 'tis she.
OPinion rules the humane state,
And domineers in ev'ry land,
Shall Seas and Mountains seperate
Whom
God hath joyn'd in natures band?
Dwell they far off or dwell they near,
They are all my Fathers children dear.
Features and colours of the hair,
Why meet they not in harmony?
The yellow, black, the brown, the fair,
All tinctures of variety;
In single simple love alone,
Millions of colours are but one.
The
Nightingale doth never say,
Though he be King of harmony,
Unto the
Cuckoo, and the
Jay,
Why sing you not so sweet as I?
Each sing their own in loves fair eye,
Their tongues complete one melody.
Lend me the bright wings of the morn,
That I about the world may run,
From
Cancer unto
Capricorn,
Far swifter than the flaming Sun.
Where e're my winged Soul doth fly;
All's fair and lovely in mine eye.
In the phlegmatick I sweetness find,
The melancholly grave and wise,
The sanguine merry to my mind,
From choller flames of love arise:
In single simple love alone,
All these complexions are but one.
Behold the painful labouring hand,
And those that keep their harmless sheep,
The country
Swain that ploughs the land,
The
Merchant that doth plough the deep;
Each do their work in love alone,
One works for all, and all for one.
With open arms let me imbrace
The
Heathen, Christian, Turk and
Jew,
The lovely and deformed face,
The sober and the Jovial Crew;
For this I see, in love alone
All forms and features are but one.
I love with all mine heart and soul,
The
French, the
Dutch, the
Englishman,
The
Dane, the
Swede, the
Turk the
Pole,
The
Spaniard and the
African;
For this I see, in love alone
All nations reconcil'd are one.
Thence sail I with my love as far
As
China, to the
Indian shoar,
The
Artick and
Antartick Star,
The
Tawny and the
Blackamoor,
From thence I travell round about
To countreys never yet found out.
My heart, my heart, is very sick,
All nations of the earth I woo,
My Soul is turning
Catholick,
And so is my religion too;
The
Deity in all doth move,
So universal is my love.
An Hymn of Love,
TUNE. True blew
&c.
Gentle love hath no dissention
In our holy
Christendom,
He will end all wild contention,
Hell and death he'l overcome.
Love that's of no price accounted
Tossed like a
Tennis-ball,
On his white horse bravely mounted,
He will ride to conquer all.
Heav'n and Hell with wealth shall store him,
The fatness of the holy land,
Victory doth march before him,
The
Lamb and
Dove at his right hand.
To the battel he advances;
His colour's oriental blew,
Not with guns and ordinances,
Adversaries to subdue.
In his eye there are such blisses,
Enemies it overthrows;
With imbraces smiles and kisses,
He will conquer all his foes.
Low humility befriends him,
Meekness patience and the rest,
Noble charity attends him
To provide for every guest.
Here's no begging or intreating,
None do labour plow or sow,
[...]od provided without sweating,
The tree of life doth freely grow.
In his house there dwells no danger,
Steward Hospitality
Kindly welcomes every stranger
Prest with friendless poverty.
Bounty crowneth all their wishes,
Entertains with chearful breast,
Plenty ushers in the dishes,
Grand purveyor of the feast.
Dishes rich innumerable:
But of all this princely fare,
Quoth love mine heart is on the table,
Feed, my Joy, and do not spare.
Noble
Angels sweetly singing
Tunes of heav'nly melody,
In the midst a fountain springing,
They that drink can never dye.
Measured dances nimbly tracing,
Fires of love that always flame,
Hugging, kissing, and imbracing,
Singing praises to the
Lambe.
Love within, and love without them,
Love doth all his treasure lend,
Peace and joy dwells round about them,
Peace and joy that hath no end.
Immanuel is all our story,
He is our royal diadem,
To him be glory, glory, glory,
We are his new
Hierusalem.
An Epitaph Hymn,
&c.
On the death of the Lady
Maria Mannors, daughter to the noble Earl and Heroick Countess of
Rutland, and Sister to the
Lord Ross.
Maiden of honour born of princely stem,
A virgin in the new
Hierusalem,
Rose in sweet
Paradice, pluckt in the morn,
In her dear Virgin bridegrooms bosome worn;
Angels about this angel dance and sing,
Musick when love doth move on every string;
Among the
Martyrs and the heav'nly Quire,
Numbred with those who chant to
David's lyre.
New triumphs now exchang'd for transitory,
On her fair temples a rich crown of glory;
Rivers of pleasure full unto the brink,
Such as the
Prophets and
Apostles drink.
The Angels entertainment in eandem.
VVElcome sweet
Angel to our christal bowers,
A star thou art among the immortal powers;
To be a
Lamb in the grand shepherds flock
Is more than to be born of princely stock.
Thou now hast scap'd those doubts, those cares, and fears,
Which would have waited on thy riper years;
Thy lover till
December would not stay,
But hug'd thee hence in thy fresh blooming
May.
A
Dove among the
Doves thou here may'st play,
Cutting thy passage through the milkie way:
Till thy dear
Bridegroom with his favour grace thee,
Whose arms are always open to imbrace thee.
Hymnus in eandem. The Bridegrooms Salutation.
TUNE. When the stormy winds do blow.
I Took thee on a suddain
In all thy glories drest,
I cropt thee in the budding
To wear thee in my brest:
My rosie blooming blossome,
My lovely flower thou art,
I'le hug thee in my bosome
A jewel in mine heart.
Thou hast given me thy virgin power
Mine honour to advance,
And all the joys that heaven can showr
Are thine inheritance;
I'le tincture thee with blisses
My flames of love to pay
[Page 97]With sweet unnumbered kisses
We dally out the day.
The
Angels are invited,
The Supper ready drest,
The holy lamps are lighted
For our eternal feast:
Banquets to thy desiring
On tables rich appear,
I'le give thee such attiring
The noble
Angels wear.
The sacred knot which I have knit
No power can untie,
Duallity I'le not admit,
Our
We is turn'd to I;
One heav'nly flesh, one blood and bone,
One life not transitory,
The
Male, and
Female both in one,
One undivided glory.
I'le gather thee sweet posies,
Sweet posies of rich price,
Of
July-flowers and
Roses
That grow in
Paradice.
Let shepherds call on
Phillis
As fair as fair may be,
More beautifull than
Lillies
My
Jewel is to me.
[Page 98]The
Cherubims advancing
In all their beams of light,
The little
Angels dancing
About this
Angel bright.
Sweet harmony rebounded
In all the heav'nly Spheres,
Such melody ne're sounded
In any mortal ears.
A Song of Hospitality.
TUNE. The Drainers are up, They threaten to drain the Kingdom dry▪
GIve me the golden age again
When wine did welcome every guest,
When that good
Knight Sr. Loyn did reign,
Plover and
Patridge did flie to the feast,
Since bold
Copernicus hath found
New nations never known before;
The tottering world by turning round
Hath turn'd poor
Charity out of door.
Where's the bouncing
Buck we so much boast,
Whereon good fellows did heartily feed,
When
Shoulder of mutton did rule the roast;
O then 'twas a merry world indeed!
What's become of our
Capon, our
Chicken and
Veal,
The
Miser ingrosseth them all in his
Hutch,
Long-winded prayer, and left-handed zeal
Makes lame hospitality lean on a crutch.
With a piping
Pig new drawn from the spit,
With plowing on both sides the
Plowman doth sweat;
That worlds at an end, now the
Devil a bitt;
March beer in black
Jacks as big as ones waste,
But locks and keys have robbed the
Hall,
When our friendly
*wine of Catholick Love. liquor they freely do taste.
The
Butterie and
Pantrie will fly open to all.
SELF.
O Self! that art the cause of all our sadness,
The whole world is involved in thy madness;
And I that write this, would that I could see,
Accursed Self, that I were rid of thee.
Had Self been hang'd on
Judas tree,
Had he been drown'd in
Pharaoh's fall,
But O! he lives in thee and me,
To plague and to torment us all:
Self-reason doth all mischief breed.
The
Tyrant proud that would be
King,
The
Serpent and the
Serpents seed,
The
Dragon with invenom'd sting,
Herod that did the children slay,
False
Judas that did
Christ betray,
True love doth conquer hell and sin
VVer't not for love that cures all evils,
Disarms the angry
Cherubin,
This world were a meer den of
Devils;
Th'arraign, condemn, at their own bar,
Thieves punish thieves, all
Judges are.
A Littany.
FRom drinking up the labourers sweat,
From making war without a Warrant,
From climbing to the
Judgment Seat,
From running on a sleeveless errant,
From all my fetters set me free
And from my Self deliver me.
From the dissemblers
yea and
nay,
From
Pharaoh's kindnesse,
Kedars Tent,
From daubing with untempered clay,
From stoning of the innocent,
Good
Lord deliver me.
From unbelief, fond cares, and fears,
From a long Bill of a
Taylor,
From the
Hiena's murthering tears;
From the deep dungeon of a
Jaylor,
Good
Lord &c.
From close dissemblers with two faces,
From a false, lying, double tongue,
From
Catch-poles and their kind imbraces,
From lingring
Law-suits nine lives long
Good
Lord &c.
From all stubborn disobedience,
From
Wolves that would devour the flock,
From
Peters foolish confidence,
But give me
Peters watchful
Cock,
Good
Lord I pray thee.
From the inventions of mans brain,
From the foul curse of being rich,
From
Gog and
Magogs cursed train,
And from the Apple that did
Eve bewitch,
Good
Lord deliver me.
From
Sina's thunder,
Babels Tower,
From those that fly with borrowed wing,
From
Caterpillers that devour
The noble
Lilly that doth spring,
Good
Lord &c.
From
Herod and the man of sin,
From
Jonah's Whale and perishing Gourd,
From the fierce angry
Cherubin
And from the fiery flaming sword,
Good
Lord &c.
From north-east winds when they do blow,
From winter journeys without coyn
From travelling to
Jericho,
Where Thieves my jewel did purloin,
Good
Lord &c.
Let me escape thy raging ire,
Thy
Thunder-bolts O do not dart!
And from thine angry flaming fire,
O hide me in thy tender heart;
In thy dear heart I shall be free
Inthron'd in perfect libertie.
Good
Lord hear me.
Drain up those weeping springs of tears,
Thy
Hurricano's let them cease,
Thy frowns awaken horrid fears,
But in thy smiles are joy and peace.
Good
Lord hear me.
Give me a constant faithful mind,
To meet thy mercy at the last,
That I may full forgiveness find:
Let me forgive all that is past.
Good
Lord hear me.
A Soveraign Receipt for the Eyes, and Hearing, &c.
LOok not asquint, or neighbours failing mind,
The faults thine own, which thou in him dost find;
To all his errors lend thy deaf'ned ear,
Speak well of him, and then thou well shalt hear.
Probatum est.
Dysticks.
BLess me from Guns, they kill the lame, the blind:
The Ordinance of love saves all Mankind.
Seek not to man, a meer created thing
For what thou want'st, go boldly to the
King.
The Soul with life continually is fed
When
Love and
Charity lie in one bed.
The water of eternal life we gather,
When we receive the meek love of the
Father.
My dark drie Soul was
Aarons withered rod,
By
Jesus springeth 'it'h
Paradise of
God.
God breathed life into this little span,
Himself the
Breather breathed into man.
Carry my thirsty Soul, O holy
Dove!
Into my Fathers flaming heart of love.
They needs must live a sweet and pleasant life,
Where
Love's the Husband,
Charity the Wife.
FINIS.