HAVING some Years since, before my Admission into Holy Orders, in my Preface to the Paraphrase upon the Psalms, discours'd at large concerning Christian Poesy, without resuming that Subject, or prosecuting it any further, I shall here do very little more than give the Reader an account of the follow­ing Papers.

Being therefore very often solicited to Print, what I had by me in Verse, or, if not all, such Rhythms at least, as I thought most proper to my present condition, amongst a great many more, I with difficulty, and but very late resolved upon those, which are now herewith Published, The Song of Salo­mon, or the Canticles; and other Hymns, directly laid down in Holy Scripture, with some few Compo­sitions more, whose Argument, as to the greatest part of them, is either thence taken, or thither may be referr'd.

As for the Canticles, which tho almost last done, is put in the first place: I was a long while deter­red from attempting its Version, or Paraphrase ra­ther; tho often provoked, I often, and with infinite [Page] desire thought of it, by the sublimeness of the Subject, and that little acquaintance, which not only my self, I ingenuously confess, but this, and the preceding Ages, I fear, for many Centuries back, have had with the Eastern Poesy; whose manner of Wit seems to be altogether different [...] from ours, and not to be brought under those Laws, which the Greek and Latine, and the Modern from them have assigned Verse. For their Metaphors, as appears in our Prosaic Versions, and especially upon Collation to any who are but reasonably skill'd in the Oriental Languages, are extremely bold, their Comparisons, Allusions, and Similitudes such, as we on this side of the World can hardly admit as decent, if at all pro­portionable; and their Transitions, with frequent shifting of Persons so [...], (for I cannot well express it in English, with such large and scarce accountable Breaches) that there lacks a great num­ber of words to be inserted between Period and Pe­riod, to render the Coherence tolerable. The not throughly considering this (which yet possibly might be avoided, nor it may be would at all have been, if every Sentence were reduced to its proper place and station, and that there had not been mistakes in transcribing the Original Copies (as some think there have) has been one occasion in my Opinion, that of all the Versions I have met with (either in Greek or Latine, or our own English, and other the Mo­dern Languages of the best esteem) of the Song [...] by me here `Paraphras'd, and particularly of the [Page] Canticles, very few are to be reckoned Verse, fur­ther than the Character of Number, and Cadence reaches, and fewer yet tolerable Poetry: Bare Tran­slations for the greatest part, but made more uneasie to be read, and much more perplext, as to the Sense, by the Tortures they have been put to for the Verse, or Rhythms-sake. Among the several other Papers that we have lost of the Excellent and Divine Spen­ser, one of the happiest Poets that this Nation ever bred, (and out of it the World, it may be (all things considered) had not his Fellow, excepting only such as were immediately Inspired) I bewail nothing me-thinks so much, as his Version of the Canticles. For doubtless, in my poor Judgment, never was Man better made for such a Work, and the Song it self so directly suited, with his Genius, and manner of Poetry (that I mean, wherein he best shews and even excels himself, His Shepherds Kalender, and other occasional Poems, for I cannot yet say the same directly for his Faery Queen design'd for an Heroic Poem) that it could not but from him receive the last Perfection, whereof it was capable out of its Original. Others, as I hinted before, have since attempted it, and in English my self now among the rest, but how successfully we must all leave both to those who have skill to judg, and to those who have not to censure, and sit down, having pleased our selves, (if yet our selves are pleased) as contented under their Doom as we can; for since we will be Rhythming, and Printing too forsooth, I know no other remedy. I [Page] must confess it is a Song above the flight of Mortal Wit, and has been ever lookt upon by the Sober and Religious, as the most Noble, tho most Mysterious, and difficult part of the Old Testament. There are I know, (but they are but some few I hope) in this, and others there have been, in the last Age, who, tho else very Learned, and it is to be charitably supposed truly Pious, without just cause have gone about to question whether it ever intended any more than it expressed, as to the Letter, and by debasing it to that, which it seemed most to sound, Humane Love, to call it no worse, have insinuated at least, (because Theocritus, and some other of the Ancient Greek and Latine Poets, have a few like Phrases in their amorous Compositions, either hence first taken, as the most ancient Original in the kind, and not un­known, as may be conjectured, to the Greeks by the Translation of the LXXII, and by them Communi­cated to the Latines, by both light upon by chance) that it is unworthy the place where it stands; con­trary to the opinion of the Jewish Church, which al­ways had and still has, antiquated, and broken as it is, for it the greatest Reverence; reputed it through all Ages uncontrovertedly Canonical, of Sense purely, and only Mystical, and thereupon pro­claimed Salomon, the inspired Author, to be the most Spirituous and Heavenly Interpreter of their Law: And contrary also to the Judgment of the Christian Church, which from our Lord's time down­ward (and in the beginning of the Seventh Century, [Page] if not in the latter end of the Sixt, Gregory the Great, piously Commented upon it) has trodden in the same steps, enlarging only, as I may say, the Lines of Communication, and transferring to the Assembly of the Faithful, under the Gospel, what the Jews confined to the Synagogue: Should we un­derstand it only, or even chiefly, if at all according to the Letter, terminating our Conceptions in the bare words, it might very easily become the occasion of Scandal to the unwary Reader; nay, without doubt had been so to the Jews themselves, at its first appearance; the severity of that Nation not allow­ing in the Female Sex, we may be assured, such open demonstrations of Love, as are more than once there expressed. And this possibly might be one rea­son, amongst many other to be urged from the Pro­pensity, which is in Youth especially, to that passion, too apt from the least spark to take fire, that this Book, together with the three first Chapters of Ge­nesis, and the beginning, and end of the Prophecy of Ezekiel, from the Fortieth Chapter, was only permitted them to read, who had arrived to the Sa­cerdotal Age, as St. Jerom notes in his Prologue to that Prophet, that is, the Thirtieth Year, in whom Youthful Heats, by that time, were thought to be somewhat allayed, and who thereupon would not be in so great danger to pervert the Divine Text to im­pure, and wanton Imaginations. Whether Salo­mon at first composed it to represent his own Loves, and as an Epithalamium upon his Marriages with [Page] Pharaoh's Daughter, and the Sulamite, one or both, I leave to others to dispute; tho for my part, gues­sing, as we can but guess at the time of those Mar­riages, and the penning this Divine Song, I think he only took occasion thence, as from a thing long before done (if from thence he took any occasion at all) to give his Muse, as I may call it, an higher flight, and under the terms of the Spouse and her Beloved, of which latter himself in his own Person was to be the Type (the Spouse, whether a Stranger of Egypt, Symbolical of the Gentiles to be called, or of Jewish Parentage, Typical of the Seed of Abraham) to sing the greatest loves this World e're knew, and which shall be our employment through all Eternity to ad­mire. The Divine Love to whole Mankind both Jew and Gentile, (these first call'd, and those in­vited under the Person of the Sulamite to return) expressed in the Incarnation of the Son of God, (who of two has made One, breaking down the Wall of Partition) and continued through all the Circum­stances, and the very manner of his Appearance in our Flesh, in order to our Salvation. Some hereby would have the Glories and Prerogatives of the Jewish State▪ both Civil, and Ecclesiastical, and even of their Coun­try under Salomon's auspicious Reign, to be signified under the Similitude of a beautiful Virgin just mar­riageable, and the rather because of those Resem­blances taken from Places, which if attributed to the Female Sex, as according to the Letter they sound, and our kind of Wit, as it is called, are so hard, in their opinions so uncooth, stiff, and unusual, that other­wise [Page] they cannot be forced, as I said in the beginning, into any tolerable, and proportionable decence. Yet even those, who thus judg of the Letter, reduce the whole according to the Allegory, to Christ and his Church, and the sacred Members of it joyntly, and severally. Be the immediate occasion therefore of its writing what it may, the Jews are very earnest, as they have been from the beginning, to have it meant of their Synagogue only, the Modern among our selves, of the Christian Church, exclusive whol­ly of the Jews, and both so dress it up with Alle­gories (for scarce will they permit a Word, or Syl­lable, to be sure not a Description of the Time, or Place, &c. to pass without half a score at least) that according to the Poet,

Without therefore determining its Sense Mystical directly to this, or that, whether private, or more communicative Interpretation, I have in my Para­phrase left it, at least endeavoured to leave it, as I found it, and even in those places, where I have ta­ken the greatest Liberty, have not gone far from the literal Sence, not at all from that, which approached nearest it, in the Judgment of the most sober Com­mentators. Such an one I look upon the learned Jo. Mercerus to be, whom, when I found it neces­sary to consult the Opinions of others, I chiefly fol­lowed, and by whose pious and elaborate Annota­tions, [Page] if any shall take the pains to compare my Pa­raphrase (the mistakes of the Printer being amend­ed, which are in some place through my absence du­ring the whole Impression very gross) the greatest difficulties of Sense, or Expressions, may very easily be resolved. He will moreover find upon Examina­tion, that if he be content soberly to Allegorize, I have left him as much scope to exercise his Religious Invention that way, (tho it were to be wisht that In­vention had not prevail'd too much with otherwise Grave and Religious Expositors) as he can well de­sire, and have only debarr'd him an indeterminate, and almost infinite Extravagance.

The Rhythms I have purposely design'd various, not going always in the same Tract, lest instead of raising the devout Souls Meditations, I should clap Weights on them; and create in him a loathing of the most exquisite Delicacies, by the same one kind of ill dressing. A meer Verbal Translation, with some heavy Cadences only, I have studiously avoided, because I would not incur the same Fault, which fre­quently, whether justly or no, I submit to my Judges to decide, I am too apt to blame in others; and, where ever occasion was offered, have enlarged upon an Hint given, or Description, as they fell in my way, further it may be than will be ordinarily al­lowed me; defending my self all along by the Ana­logie of Faith, Decence, and Proportion, which I have endeavoured to retain. In two or three places I ha [...]e used a kind of Measure, which may possibly [Page] seem to those, who either take not time to judg of the occasion, or will not allow it, too light for the subject in hand, because less usual; tho I only follow therein the Greek and Latine Poets, whose metrical Foot con­sisted not always of Dissyllables, by Sponde, Troche, or Iambic, as ours, the French, Spanish, and Ita­lian, correctly does, but more frequently of Trissyl­lables, and sometimes of four Syllables intermixt, of various and enterchanged quantities, as is seen espe­cially in the Drama, Ode, and Epode, and the kinds of Verse wherein they are treated; tho no kind of Verse amongst them is without the intermix­ture of a several sort of Foot, and the most ordi­nary, the Hexameter, as it is call'd, tho it is the greatest, and the most majestic, has the Dactyl and Sponde, that is the Dissyllable of two long, and the Trissyllable, of a long and two short so necessary, that without both the Verse and Music cannot subsist, yet was never thence accused of Levity. If it be answered, that we in the Modern Languages have Rhythm, or a coincidence of Sound in a single Ter­mination, to compensate for the disuse, (rather than want) of the Trissyllable Foot; I think this is not always sufficient, and the Criticks in Verse are too severe, who would thus altogether restrain, and bind up us Rhythmers, damning the Trissyllable Foot, and cadence of Sound in the two last Syllables to the Burlesque only, as the principal of its Characters; tho why it should be so, if the Matter be otherwise noble, and becoming, for my part I see no great rea­son, [Page] nor why the number of a Verse should be estee­med light, and wanton, for an allowable variety only, when the Subject so requires, if the Language be ca­pable of it, as it must be on all hands confest the English is. The Greek and Latine Poets, as I said, admitted as the great Character of Verse, and its numerousness, this Variety; both because their Language naturally required it, and because they were perfect strangers to Rhythm, (the Greeks al­ways, till grown perfectly Barbarous, and the Latines till after the Irruption of the Goths and Vandals, their Language became confined to the Cloyster, and durst not appear walking delicately in Verse, but with that chain of Servitude, its Conquerors had thrown upon it). Our Language a Medly of all the Barbarous Tongues, into which the noble Roman was humbled, but partaking most of that which most humbled it, beside roughnesses of its own, has notwithstanding been so refin'd (as we flatter our selves) that it will bear Foot, and Quantity, as the Greek and Latine did, but that Rhythm has in a manner so thrust them out, that contenting, or rather valuing it self (for the greatness of Sense and Conceipt whereof, it is indeed capable, equal with any of the now living, or long since dead Languages that are, or in any Age were spoken in the World,) upon the Dissyllable Foot, whether it be Sponde, or Tro­che, but chiefly Iambic, instead of all other Quan­tities, it thinks it self in single Cadence, a greater Prince of Verse, than either Rome or Athens ever were in all their admired Variety: And indeed a­bating [Page] this, as the Laws of Verse now stand with us, tho we have Quantity, yet so uncertain is it in the same Syllable, and so easie to be made, and used long or short, (except in words of more Syllables than two, translated from another Language, and some few Dissyllables in our own, which are so unalte­rable as to their Quantity, that they either cannot change it without alteration of their sense, or can­not be used in Verse but in such certain places accord­ing to their Proportion and Accent) and so great is the number of Monosyllables, which may be either long or short, as to their use, what ever they are as to their nature, and by position, that making our Metrical Foot to consist, as we mostly do, but of two Syllables, it is very hard in English, to compose a Period, but part of it, whether we will or no, shall as to the number be Verse. Tho therefore Blank Verse, as we call it, that is number Metrical (as they would have it) without Rhythm, considering the natu­ral fitness, and customary tendence of our Language, may do excellently in the Drama, because it comes nearest the ordinary way of Speech, wherein the Interloqutors are supposed to converse (and indeed to use Rhythm, or chiming Cadence there, to me seems at least impertinent, if not at best forced, and a strain beyond decence, such as has nothing of the Verisimile in it) yet in an Epick Poem, to mention no other, I know not how with us it can be well main­tain'd. For it wants the proper and particular Character, which we assign Verse, Rhythm I mean, [Page] and were it written as Prose usually is, in its just Periods, would both be read, and be, as indeed it is, no other than Poetical Prose; that is, Masculine Prose, drest up like Hercules by Omphale, in the attire of one of her Women, but whose Shape and Warlike Limbs, could not be concealed by the dis­guise. Take an Instance of it from that most excel­lent, and divinely flowing Speech of our first Mo­ther, in the fourth Book of Mr. Miltons Paradise Lost, than which neither himself ever said any thing softer, and more Poetical, nor can almost be ima­gin'd to be said of Man.

‘To whom thus Eve reply'd; O Thou for whom, and from whom I was form'd, Flesh of thy Flesh, &c.— That Day I oft re­member, when from sleep I first awak't, and found my self repos'd under a Shade, on Flow­ers, much wondring where, and what I was, whence thither brought, and how. Not di­stant far from thence, a murmuring sound of Waters issu'd from a Cave, and spread into a liquid Plain, then stood unmoved, pure as the Expanse of Heaven. I thither went, with un­experienc'd thought, and laid me down on the Green Bank, to look into the cleer smooth Lake, that to me seem'd another Skie. As I bent down to look, just opposite a Shape with­in the watry Gleam appear'd, bending to look on me. I started back, it started back, but pleas'd I soon return'd, pleas'd it return'd as [Page] soon, with answering looks of Sympathy and Love. There I had sixt mine Eyes till now, and pine'd with vain desire, had not a Voice thus warn'd me, What thou seest, what there thou seest, Fair Creature, is thy Self, with Thee it came, and goes; but follow me, and I will bring Thee where no Shadow stays thy com­ing, &c.—’

Who now in the World could ever dream that this were Verse, and Verse too the softest, and most tune­able, and with as great a [...], suitable to the oc­casion, as can be conceived? I confess some few words, and manner of contexture, and an Image of the thing different, and some thing more tender than that which Prose commonly renders, would make it su­spected, that the Writer was in a Poetical Rapture; but still, through the Disguise, the Prose appears, or rather cannot be hid, any more than the Verse, in the following Period; as I ghess of the same Au­thor, in an Apology, in Answer to the Mo­dest Confutation of a Libel, intituled, Ani­madversions upon the Remonstrants Defence of Smectymnuus. The Period is Prose, but I I shall write it in Blank Verse, and without adding, or diminishing, or transposing a word, only making the Verse sometime longer, sometime shorter, as in the Pindaric, whether fitly so called I inquire not here, leave it to the Reader to judg, whether there is not in both the same numerous Harmony, and Con­texture, the same turn of Words, boldness of Figure, and height of Imaging.

I forbear that which follows, for Mr. Milton's sake if he were the Author; if not, what I have quote▪ here will not be lookt upon to the disgrace of [...] Learning, for it is not in the least intended so [...] me, or to the disparagement of any's, who beside hi [...] may have been Author of the Apology; for my d [...] ­sign is only to shew by both these Examples, th [...] take away Rhythm from our English Poetry, and i [...] remains undistinguishable, by any other Character [...] from Prose; at least not so distinct, but th [...] through the Mascarade it may be discovered, havin [...] the Manly Limbs of this, tho it may be the softe habit of the other.

Not so the Italian, and Spanish Blank Verse [...] from whom the same great and learned Mr. Milto [...] [Page] I believe took his Measures. For tho to instance in the Italian, and their Compositions of that kind, Anibal Caro, in his most excellent Translation of Virgil, and Torquato Tasso, in his Sette giornate del Mondo creato, have avoided Rhythms, they yet retained the proper Character of the Italian Verse; I mean as to the Form, aequivalent to our Rhythm, which ever ends with a solitary Syllable for the last Foot, unless we make the last Foot con­sist rather of three Syllables, by an Antibacchius, as [...]Horrore costume, or by an Amphibrachus, as in [...]Piume inānte, be there Rhythm used, or be there none; tho if there be Rhythm, the Chime, or Tune, rests both upon the last, and the last Syllable save one; by which mark or trissyllable Foot indifferent to both, and the Syllabical quantities of the Italian words, which approach, and except in some few in­stances directly follow the Latine; the Italian even Blank Verse of any Author, howsoever written can no more be concealed and mistaken for Prose, than the Latine Verse of Virgil, or Ovid. Take an Ex­ample of both from Tasso, and first of the Italian Verse with Rhythm, in that famous Stanza of his Gierusalemme Liberata, Canto. xx. Stanza 51. which himself esteem'd the most noble of the whole Poem.

Where every Verse, like our Heroic in English, has five Feet, with a solitary Syllable in the last liquescing, and of very moderate sound, but whose Penultima is ever to be pronounced, with Accent, more strong; for they are to be scann'd as we call it at School, (where we are first taught to make Verse a little it may be of the soonest) just as in the La­tine pure lambic, or as in the Dimetrum, or Se­narium, allowing never above two Syllables to a Foot, but with continual Observation, contrary to us, and which yet is not ever by them strictly noted, not only of the Synalaepha, which melts down the last Vowel of the former word into the first Syllable of that which next follows, beginning with a Vowel, and giving it its sound, but of the Synaeresis in the same word, contracting two Syllables, be they Vow­els, or Diphthongs, into one, except in some few Ir­regulars according to the marks of both Feet, and Contraction pointed out in the first Verse. Vpon the solitary Syllable, and that which precedes it in the last Foot, rests the Sound, or Chime, and which in the Italian Language, if to this Character of Verse they think fit to add Rhythm, is but necessary, con­sidering that the Terminations of almost all perfect words, except some few Particles, end in a Vowel. [Page] The example of Blank Verse, among the Italians, which I shall give, is taken from the Description of the last Judgment, in the same Tassos Settima Giornata.

So that, tho there be no Rhythms, the number is purely metrical (if the Language also be not so too, both by the turn of the words used, and the manner of their use, by frequenter Apocopes than would be tolerated in Prose) and cannot but be owned for such. For were the Blank Verses above recited, [Page] written as Prose, in their just Periods, for those ve­ry Reasons, and by the Marks given, they would be so easily distinguished from it, that any one, who is very little experienced in the Italian Language and Poetry, tho there be no Rhythms, would presently pronounce them, and very safely and confidently might, to be excellent Verse. A thing, which I think [...] cannot possibly be contrived for the English Blank Verse, especially if it be the grace of Prose, and its utmost perfection, as some imagine, not only to be every whit as numerous, but in the same way to be [...] conceiv'd, I mean; in Blanks. But as this is an [...] impertinent fineness at best, and if studied, and de­sign'd so below the gravity of an Orator, that it [...] able to cast upon the best, and most passionate Spea­ker reproach and contempt, it is unfit in my opinion to subserve his great end, the moving of the Mind, which is so jealous of its Honour, that tho it willing­ly suffers it self to be imposed upon, from a princi­ple of good Nature inherent in it, and connatur [...] to its being, as long as it perceives no Artifice used▪ yet when that is once discovered, or but suspected, [...] grows obstinate, and puts a bar to the best that is, [...] can be said. In Verse the Mind is quite otherwise di­spos'd, and requires naturally another kind of Move­ment, lively Images, [...], I think the Greek [...] call them, which it has common with Prose, but mor [...] exalted, and as it were with a different kind of light Number also and Harmony, which Prose has, [...] under another Character, Rhythm in Our Moder [...] Languages, or something equivalent to it, varietye [...] [Page] Feet and Measure, which if it want, as the Verse is thereby depriv'd of its greatest and best, and only di­stinguishing Ornaments, the mind also that came pre­par'd to tempt its Charms, and expected them, langui­shes under the disappointment. This therefore, as I con­ceive it was, which made the Italians when they omit­ted Rhythms, still to retain that kind of Number in their Blank Verse, which should make it diverse from Prose; and them the Spanish follow, in their Me­trical Compositions, both which with Rhythms, and without, having most frequently a solitary and super­numerary Syllable either in, or for the last Foot. The French, as nearer us in Clime and Manners, come nearer us too in their model of Verse, which they con­ceive much after the same Method; only herein I think they have the advantage, that considering more seriously, the nature of Verse, and of their Language, never that I know of, have they received the Blank into the Epope, or indeed any kind of Poem. Nay, so great admirers are they of Rhythm, (tho whe­ther they have been so long, I leave it to be enquired) that they cannot abstain from it in the Drama, the very Farce rarely excepted; and these have, of late at least, been our great Law-givers, for Affairs of the Stage, (how properly, it is no business of mine, any where, especially in this place, to dispute); but never yet have they been able to prevail with us to admit so frequently, as their best Poets use it, the Dissyllable Rhythm, or Cadence; tho since it is in so great re­pute with them, and makes so necessary a part of Verse with the Italian and Spaniard, when they use [Page] Rhythm, that it is else lookt upon as less perfect, and irregular, I know no reason, why if the Argument be otherwise answerable, and great, we should hum­ble it to the Burlesque, or Ridicule only, and give ei­ther that, or the Trissyllable Foot none, or the mean­est place in serious Compositions. If therefore Our selves, or the French will use Blank Verse, either in an Heroick Poem, where they should be I think Cou­plets, as in Mr. Cowley's Davideis, (for the Qua­drains of Sir William Davenant, and the Stanza of Nine in Spensers Faery Queen, which are but an Improvement of the Ottava Rima, to instance in no more, seem not to me so proper) or in an Ode or Sonnet, (which remains yet to be attempted) since we want that Character of Verse, which the Greek and the Latine had of old, and those among the Modern equivalently observe, who both lie nearer Rome, and retain the most visible Traces of its Lan­guage, having no means of differencing it from Prose except by the Rhythm, as the most essential Mark, let us give it the Character, as to its Form, which it anciently had, a Number and Movement metrical, with enterchang'd variety, according to the kind of our Verse, of diverse sorts of Feet. But this we in English have found, by the Experience of Sir Phi­lip Sidney, Ab. France, and others in the last Age, would never do; and in the next, even Our now cry'd-up Blank Verse, will look as unfashionable, how well soever as a Novelty, and upon his Credit, who was the Inventer of it here, it may speed in this. Not but that I have, and always had, as great an honour for [Page] Mr. Milton's Paradise Lost, as those who admire, him most, and look upon it as Mr. Driden has very well observed, ‘ To be one of the greatest, most no­ble and most sublime Poems, take it altogether, which either this Age, or Nation has produced.’ Nay, that it shall live as long as there are Men left in our English World to read, and understand it; and that many Ages hence translated into what-ever speech we shall be then changed (for changing we have been from Chaucer's time downward with a Witness, however it be call'd Refining) that shall survive the Language, wherein it stands written, and therein it self. Yet still I say, the Learned only must and shall be Judges of this, and that if he had thought to give it the Adornments of Rhythm, and not avoided them so Religiously, as any one may perceive he now and then does, to the debasing of his great Sense, it had been so absolute a piece,* that in spight of whatever the World Heathen, or Christian hitherto has seen, it must have re­main'd as the standard to all succeeding Poets & Poesy.

I beg my Readers pardon for this very long Di­gression, which has swell'd much beyond the limits I intended it, tho I hope not without giving him some Diversion. For it is, I confess, beside my Pro­vince, and if I have taken wrong measures of Verse, and Versifying, (the Standart of Verse being possibly of late altered) I submit my private Fancy, and all I have said here, to its great Judges and Masters, for I only thought to have defended my self a­gainst those, who should object Lightness in a place or two to the manner of my Verse, because, as I said [Page] above, 'tis only unusual amongst us. For light it cannot justly be thought by the most rigid, and scru­pulous, so long as the Argument continues the same; nor will it, I am assur'd, be judg'd so by those, who know what are the transports of the noblest Passion, but then especially, when the pious Soul, rapt beyond it self, falls into an extasie of Divine Love. No wonder in such Circumstances, if its Speech and manner of Expression be also Exstatical. The rough­ness of my Verse now and then seems rather to be obnoxious to a Reprimende, and possibly it may de­serve it, but I much willinger chose to be deficient in the Tuneableness of my Rhythms, than have the Sense broken and perplext.

I think I need not take any notice of the several Titles which I have given each Chapter; for the Song being of all Expositors acknowledged, as to its general Form, to be Dramatic, because of the seve­ral Interlocutors, which are introduced (tho consi­dered as an Epithalamium for its great Argument, consisting of many Odes, it has more of the Lyric, whereupon the speeches being not so directly continu­ed, nor short, and in Repartee, as they say, each to other, as in the Drama, I have taken occasion to put it mostly in the Lyric dress) I could not do as I thought any thing more proper. However, to pre­vent all manner of Offence that may be taken, I will uncompelled account for it to the Ingenuous Rea­der, in as few words as I can. Supposing therefore, which I think none will deny, that it is, as I said, a Drama, the Persons speaking may well be allowed to [Page] be, as following the best Expositors I have fixt them, The Spouse, and Her Beloved, with the Friends on either side in the Chorus, tho, who, according to the Mystery, by these are signified, further than brief­ly toucht before, I leave to them to interpret. In­stead of a Prologue, I have called the Stanzas im­mediately preceding the Hymn it self [...], Prae­centio, or Praeludium, tho if I had call'd them the Prologue, since they serve to the same end as the Pro­logue in the Drama, I see no inconvenience, nor any whom the name can offend, save the Ignorant. That which I have design'd instead of the Epilogue, I have I think by the most regular name, rather called [...], than Epilogus. For the Song it self sounding as to the letter nothing but Love, and tho intended by the sacred Penman to be meant of the Divine Love only, too apt to be distorted to that which is sensual, carnal and brutish, through the Pravity of our Nature, even untranslated into Metre, and as it lies in the Text, the Epode serves according to the true sense of its name, Carmen ad amoliendum quicquid, noxium est, to remove the Vail, and to take away all occasion of perverting the sublime Mysteries. The Legend further of Love I have stiled it, for ho­nours sake to the great Spenser, whose Stanza of Nine I have used, and who has Intituled the six Books which we have compleat of his Faery Queen, by the several Legends of Holiness, Temperance, Chasti­ty, Friendship, Justice, and Courtesy, and to a­ny who knows what the word Legend there, or in its true and first notion signifies, it will neither seem [Page] strange, ridiculous, or improper: I have made it to consist of three Cantos, agreeable enough to the nature of an Epode, or Legend, if it be judged indecent, as indeed it is, considering its length, for an Epilogue; In the first whereof taking occa­sion from the Canticles, to which in the begin­ning it refers, I have endeavoured to shew the true Nature of Love, and what it was in the state of Innocence, describing it by the liveliest Images, which I could form to my self suitable to a Poetical Composition. In the second I have considered the thing, whatever it be, vulgarly called Love, under the dominion and government of Sense, ex­clusive of Reason, which it too often either draws to its party, or wholly extinguishes, than which no­thing can be conceived more absurd, unreasonable, extravagant, and inhumane. The third Canto, in the close of it, is design'd for the Restauration of Love, by Sacred Marriage, or Wedlock, according to the Divine Institutiin, to its ancient Dignity and Lustre; The very cause, amongst others there-under adumbrated, for which Salomon, divinely inspired, wrote this Song, which sub­serves thereunto by so noble an Instance, that they only betray their Impiety, or Atheism, who in an Age so Wise and Critically Rational, as this would be thought, can find no more becoming occa­sion to sh [...]w and vend their Wit, than what is made by exposing tbe sublimest Mysteries of Our Religion, and the most glorious displays of Our [Page] both present and future Happiness. If therefore any, who are able to judg, shall chance to find there, or in any of my Compositions, the least Word, or Sentence, which may choque them, or escape me, not agreeable to the sentiments of this Best of Churches, and Good Manners, I hereby utter­ly disclaim it, and beseech them to give the place a double thrust, for t [...]eir own Revenge, and mine, who would not have put them to the trouble, had my self perceived it. There is more of it a great deal, than at first was intended, but, I know not how, it grew so strangely under my hands, that I have been forced to lay aside more thoughts, than I have been at the pains to dress up, to reduce it with­in the present Compass. However, I hope, it is in all parts consonant to sound Doctrine, whose limits, for tbe greatest glories of Verse, I would not willingly transgress. As to the Song it self following the Division, or Partition of it, which the Church allows in the distinction of Chapters, I have called the first Divini Amoris Ecstasis, or Protasis, tho it may be by the latter Title not altoge­ther so naturally. But seeing visibly in the Song all the other parts which are by the Ancients assign'd the Drama, (who it may be hence first of all took their Rules) I fixt the Protasis here as in the usual place, and more designedly, because in this and the follow­ing Chapter, we have as it were the sum of the whole laid down, and the mind kept in suspence for the [Page] event, which was the business, as is known by the learned, of the Protasis. The next great part of the Drama was the Epitasis, or the counterturn, as I may call it, of Action, which I have placed in the third Chapter, under the title of Dolor de Absentia Sponsi, seu Epitasis, (tho this latter in the Print­ing off the sheet is omitted, and with another escape or two consequent thereof, has given me the trouble of advising the Reader of it here, that he may re­ctifie the mistake) where, as in the Epitasis exci­tantur turbae, & caligine quâdam res involvun­tur, We find the Spouse all Joy before, Mourning for the absence of her Beloved, and all things for a while seem to incline to the worst. The Catastasis before its time in the printed Copy, is intituled to the fourth Partition, but belongs rightly to the fifth Chapter, or Division (where I have also caused it, as soon as by seeing the sheets, I perceived the Error of the Press again to be set, desiring the Reader, instead of that Title in the fourth Chapter, to put Deside­rium) successive of the Epitasis in the third. And it is a continuance of the Spouses trouble for the ab­sence of her Lord there first hinted; and whereas in the Epitasis, eadem cernitur rerum perturbatio, but somewhat greater, and opens the way to the clear­ing of all in the following Partitions under their se­veral Titles, till the Drama comes to its last Period in the Catastrophe, which I have placed at the eighth Partition, tho if any one will, he may make the Catastrophe begin at the seventh, and in the eighth bring the Spouse ad Sponsi fores, after the Jewish [Page] Custom, in pursuance and complement of it; That which is signified by the Catastrophe in the Drama, being the conclusion of the whole, according to its expected or unlookt-for event. I might add here a great deal concerning the Unity of Action, strictly observed in this Hymn, and the Chorus, which is eve­ry where regular, but I pass them both over. With respect to what I have already laid down, I will not say that Salomon design'd all, or any of these parts in this Divine Song, or in the manner that I, follow­ing the Ancients, have bounded them; but this I dare say, that whosoever knows the Motions of the Pious Soul in its love to God, knows also that these seve­ral parts make it up, which I shall endeavour thus briefly to evidence, and appeal to those who under­stand it best, and have try'd the great experiment.

No sooner therefore by the Preaching of the Gospel, and the most benign Operations of the good Spirit of God, comes the devout Soul, to be convinced of the Divine Love, in it self and infinite Perfections how beyond expression amiable, to the Soul by ten thousand Experiences how indeared, but being first loved, and knowing assuredly it self to be loved, it endeavours according to its unequal measure to return love for love; Is all as it were on a flame towards its Belo­ved, and thinks nothing comparative with him Love­ly, nothing for his sake too hard or grievous to be undertaken. The World to such an One and all its gaudy Pageantry appears, as it truly is, a dead and lifeless and accursed thing; without any Charms except to betray and ensnare, and with Pleasures (such as [Page] they are) which continue but for a moment, and pe­rish in the using; nor can it find any relish or satisfa­ction but in the enjoyment of those Real and Eternal Beauties, on which Time and Age have no effect, and whose most frequent use encrease only, and heighten their delight. Of these it continually thinks, loves and admires none but these; and is so wholly transformed into what it loves, that it is no more it self, nor lives any other Life than what that inspires. Or in St. Paul's phrase, Being Crucified with Christ, nevertheless it lives, or Christ rather lives in it, and the Life which it lives in the Flesh, it lives by the Faith of the Son of God, who loved it, and gave himself for it. In this Extasy, while it continues, the Pious Soul once enflamed with the Love of God, exults with joy unspeakable; and con­tinue the Extasy will, till either Our love by de­grees, as is not unusual (the more wretched We) grow cold in its once most ardent pursuits, or the violence of a Temptation intervene, or the most Highest, for either the punishment of our Remissness, or trial of our Sincerity, for a while withdraw himself; but then, the happier we once to perceive and take notice of it, how is the Soul that truly loves, perplext? This way it runs, and that; and only thoughtful of its Mise­ry, and what it would find, where yet to find it knows not. Here comes in the true Epitasis: Ano­ther face of things appears than was wont, and in­stead of Hymns, and joyous Acclamations, which used before to be its constant Companions, nothing is heard, in all its Retreats, but the Sighs and La­ments, [Page] as of one forsaken. The Soul is overwhelm­ed almost with Sorrow, which to prove the most In­tense, Hearty, and Sincere, it endeavours all it can, to clear its Innocence, calling Heaven and God to witness it; of yet which, having paused a while and not daring in cooler Blood to be too confident, it reflects upon its former coldness and negligence, and resolves on greater Care and Circumspection for the future, is angry with it self, and afraid, and mourns bitterly, and begs but once more to be try'd, and professes its Zeal, and passes ten thousand Pro­mises, binding them with as many Vows, and resolves so throughly to be revenged of it self, that it will never give over its unweary search, till it has found its Beloved. Away in this heat it flies out of it self as it were, and seeks, and asks after him of all it meets; and tho affronted frequently by the way, bears the In­dignity with patience, and feels the smart of no Wound received in the inquiry, comparable to his ab­sence; till almost quite tired, now and again, and the third time (and it were well if but the three hundredth time the Epitasis and the Catastasis conse­quent of it recurr'd). Lo! he whom the Soul loves, and who infinitely more loves the Soul, taking pity of its Labours, and approving its Integrity, at length discovers himself a-new, with greater Attractives than before. And now all is perfectly well again. Peace and Joy, and the tender endearments of a mu­tual Affection blown up to a Flame, which no Waters can quench, sparkle in both. No Discourse passes, but of the constancy of each others Love, its Charms [Page] how great, its Renewals how surprizing. The happy Nuptials, which make the Catastrophe seem not to be far off, and by Faith through the Vail the Soul looks, and sees the Preparations, and hastens the time by its calls, and even dies with Impatience, be­cause it is but a moment deferr'd.

This is the Progress of Divine Love in the holy Soul, adumbrated as I conceive, in this Mysterious Song, but so coldly and imperfectly displayed by me (God help poor Mortals!) that suspected thence, as I fear for my self I justly may, never to have been really touched with it, I can only appeal to Him, who searches the Heart, with the most earnest Obtestati­ons, that if my Love to my Lord and Saviour be not such as it ought, with a flame so pure, and great as to warm, and enlighten others, according to the Prerogative of my Office; it may yet be sufficient to keep my self from either freezing, or stumbling; especially from either thinking, or speaking any thing unbecoming it, at least [...], and in the too much despised Rank of a Chri­stian Poet.

As for the other sacred Hymns, they seem to me to be of those parts of Scripture concerning which I may truly say, omitting their Divine Inspiration, that being compared with the best and most Majestie of Pindar, or Horace, they are so far from losing any thing of their Beauty, that they only receive thence the greater Lustre, and cast upon the noblest thoughts of those next to Immortal Lyrics, whom the Heathen World, and we above all the Heathen most deservedly [Page] admire, the honourable Office of serving but as a pro­per Foyl, to make them appear the more Glorious. For nothing can be conceived more Poetical, nothing more Tuneful and Harmonious, nothing more Di­thyrambic and Ecstatical. Of this latter sort are the Songs of Moses, Deborah, and Habakkuk. And had I not a design of drawing to an end of this long Preface, as soon as possible, I might instance in the several Graces, which are proper to the rest, not as turned by me, but as they lie in the Original; Of which yet they are not wholly divested by the most barbarous Translation, into any Language, and in some of which, the Latine particularly of Castellio, and the Italian of Diodati, not to say our own, which may Vye with the best, they shine with a Ray only second to what they receiv'd upon their imme­diate Inspiration.

The Compositions, which are my own purely, or Translated occasionally out of the Originals, noted in the Titles or Margin, are of an infinite baser Alloy; and all I dare presume to say for them, is; That when I either made, or turned them, they suit­ed well enough my then present Temper; and I have a kindness for them, proportionable to the Di­version they at that time gave my self, and have since given my Friends, at whose request I did some of them. However I had not been thus confident to Print them now, and publickly own them in this Habit, but that unknown to me, and unallowed, after very false Copies some of them have been al­ready Published. I have here and there added the [Page] Dates, not for Ostentation, any one may think, but thereby to give some little account how I have been wont to spend part of my Time, both before I was admitted into Holy Orders, and since; and that if some of my Rhythms may not so directly suit with my present Circumstances, and seem too inflate with the Muses imaginary Profits and Honours, and idle Tattle to no purpose in the World; the time wherein I did them, may be my Apology, as it has serv'd others before me; tho there be none of them I hope, which will not be allowed as a tolerable Diversion for the severest Divine, their subject being either Religious, or exemplary Moral. And I am not asha­med to profess, that wearied with more abstruse studies, I have been wont in a Country Village barren of other Diversions thus to unbend, and refresh my self. I might amongst the rest have added the Muses Complaint, but beside that I thank God I have no great need, being content with my Fortune, I never yet found any good come of it, and Mr. Cowley's, and Mr. Spenser's before him, will indifferently serve for any of the Trade, and he values himself too highly who dares expect better fortune than they met. My change of Habit, I acknowledg, and manner of Living, with encrease of Years, have much taken me off from these kind of Delights, tho had I no greater loss of time at last to repent, than what has been spent among the Muses, I should, in my own Opinion at least, be a very happy Man. Nay, I am so far at present from repenting it, for the main, that as the late Cardinal Palavicino, on the like occasion says, [Page] Giovommi, che in eta, & in professione più libera, Io sopra modo fui vago d'alcuni autori, la cui frequente lezione sarebbe ora poco dicevole, alla maturita de miei anni, ed alla serjetà del mio stato; si che me è auvenuto, come a coloro, i quali con più animoso, che sicuro consiglio pra­ticarono lungamente fra gli aliti pericolosi delle sotterranee miniere, che uscendone salvi, hannosi comperata, con questo rischio, qualche più inter­na contezza intorno alle naturali proprietà, delle gioie & dell' oro. Some of my Adventures in this kind, I have been at the pains to rehearse (and I might have added many more) in the Ode, called the Voyage, others I have glanced at in the Odes of Petrarch, reducing as far as was convenient that excellent Poets sense, to my own Condition.

And now, having in the body of this Preface troubled my Reader with a particular defence of Rhythm, as the most natural, and proper Character of Verse, in the Modern, and it may be in all Lan­guages, that are or ever were spoken in the World, (the Greek and Latine only excepted) and without which, especially in English, it cannot appear distin­guished from Prose; (and which, if we look either to the first Original of Rhythm, is so far from being the Invention of a late Barbarous Age, or People, that it was known, as is judged by the Learned, and allow'd by the Hebrews, and Eastern Nations, long before the Greeks, and Romans were grown to that height, as to stile all but themselves Barbarous; if to its present Vniversal [Page] use, and particularly with those, whom the now Civil and Christi [...]n World more modestly and justly call so, and who, tho they never heard of the Greeks and Romans, nor it may be till of late of any People less Barbarous than themselves, have a kind of Num­ber received from their Ancestors distinct from their Prose, whose Character is Rhythm or Cadence, seems to be in all Countries the direction of pure Nature, uncultivated by Art; and) that I may not in Act condemn, what I have in Word taken upon me the confidence to defend, I have stiled the whole Second Part by the fittest, as I think, of the most Ancient, as well as Modern names, RIMES. I confess I have consulted none of my Friends in it, nor know I whe­ther they, and the Censors of English Verse will allow it me, tho Casa, and the [...]est of the Italians, (to in­stance in no more) are my Compurgators. Yet not purely hence, and upon their Authority barely have I staid my self, but from a principle of Modesty, if my Reader dare credit me, that I may neither forestal and deceive him, nor usurp for such occasional Compositi­ons, an Honour and Title which belongs not to them. The noble Title of Poems I mean, too great a bearing for so mean an estate of Verse as that to which of the most they are vulgarly affixt. If others are of another mind for the Examples sake, (the first it may be in English of the despised Name given to any thing that was grave and serious) there's no hurt done; and I am conte [...]t, (tho whether I be or no, 'tis no great matter) that for their own Diversions, they [...]ll them by what Names they please, so they give me [...]he like liberty, as I list, to name mine.