their lofty heads the Skies Then the pale Flood frightn'd at this Allarm Trembles with dread of the approaching Storm And when the jarring Winds have tost the Sea Whose sev'ral Contests bear a diff'rent sway The parted Ocean suffers a Divorce Driv'n as the Storms the routed Billows force Then a vast Gulph of ruin's opn'd wide And the Ship 's swallow'd in the rapid Tide Or if born on a Tenth imposthum'd Wave The breaking bubble proves its watry Grave Thus the false Ocean treach'rously beguiles And thus in frowns end its deceitful smiles But I suspected not the wheedling Main Nor did of its inconstancy complain I ne're the fury of the Winds did blame Nor on the Tempests boisterous rage exclaim Nor curst the hardy wretch that led the way And taught the world to perish in the Sea My Vessel ne're lanch'd from my native shoar Nor did the Navigator's Art explore I study'd not the Chard nor gave my mind To learn to tack and catch the veering Wind. Too soon these Artists of their skill repent And perish by the Arts they did invent My Life 's the Sea whose treach'ry I declare My self the Vessel toss'd and shipwreck'd there All the loud Storms of the insulting Wind Are restless Passions of my troubled Mind Thus harast in this fluctuating state I pass thro strange Vicissitudes of Fate Deceitful Life whose false serenity Chang'd in a moment ends in misery Thou want'st no sweet allectives to betray But shew'st a charming Beauty ev'ry day While Love and Lust wreck our lost mind within No dang'rous Sands no Rocks without are seen But when a Tide of Vice breaks fiercely in And beats the Soul on fatal Shelves of Sin Then it perceives in what a vast Abyss Sunk by the weight of its own Crimes it lies Oh! that at least like wretched drowning men These sinking Souls wou'd rise and float agen That while their grosser parts do downward move Their pure Devotion wou'd remain above But just as men to whom th' Earths gaping Womb Becomes at once their Murth'rer and their Tomb Or as the wretch beneath some falling Rock At once is kill'd and bury'd with the shock So fare the men by sins swift current born Thoughtless of Heav'n by Heav'n th' are left forlorn See Lord how I with Wind and Tide engage While on each hand a threatning War they wage See how my head is bow'd unto the Grave While I am forc'd to court the drowning Wave Seest thou my Soul lost in a double Death And wilt thou not reprieve my flitting breath Behold O Lord behold and pity me And leave me not to perish in the Sea Be thou my Pylot and my motion guide Then I shall swim in spight of Wind and Tide Ambr. Apolog. post pro David cap. 3. The multitude of our Lusts raise a mighty Tempest which so tosses them that sail in the Ocean of the body that the mind cannot be its own Pylot Oh! that thou would'st hide me in the Grave that thou would'st keep me Secret untill thy wrath be past Iob. 14. 13. XII â—h that thou would'st hide me in the Grave that thou would'st keep me secret until thy wrath be past Job 14. 13. WHo who will grant me a secure retreat Where I may shun thy furies scorching â— heat â—hose piercing flames whene're I call to mind â—ear I can no safe concealment find â—en I desire the covert of the Wood â—here only Beasts range for their savage Food â—en in Earth's Womb wou'd hide my fearful â— head â— in some Rock make my unminded bed Then ev'n by Death I wish my self to save And court the dark recesses of the Grave Or far remote from the fair Orbs of Light Wou'd in thick Darkness dwell and endless Nighâ— When the loud Thunder rouls along the Sky Men to the Lawrels shelter trembling fly In vain alas they hope Protection thence The helpless Tree proves not its own Defence Much less can that a place of Refuge be From an all-seeing angry Deity Thy eyes the closest Solitudes invade And pierce and pry into the darkest shade The wretch who took his Ruin from a Tree In vain with Leaves wou'd hide his shame frâ— Thee For while to shun thy presence he assay'd Ev'n his absconding his offence betray'd In vain alas to Caves and Dens we run We carry with us what we strive to shun The Den that did the Hebrew Captive save When He was freed prov'd his Accusers Grave Nor was Lot's Incest hidden in his Cave As much in vain we court the Earths dark Womb And fly for shelter to the silent Tomb Vengeance ev'n thither will our flight pursue And rise to punish the black ills we do Thus vainly Cain stopt righteous Abel's breath The mouth of Blood was opned by his Death Thus vainly Jonas in the Sea conceal'd His faithless flight ev'n by the Sea reveal'd His living Tomb obey'd Heav'ns great command And cast him back to the forsaken Land A brittle Faith is all the glassy Sea can boast Whose pervious Waves betray what they shou'd cover most Nor can we hope concealment in a Tomb That casts our bones from its o're-burthen'd Womb. In Rocks and Caves we must no trust repose For their own sound the secret will disclose And Leaves and Trees themselves alike will fade And then expose what they were meant to shade Nor Sea nor Land nor Cave nor Den nor Wood Nor Stars nor Heav'n it self can do me good Thou Lord alone canst hide my fearful head Where I no Veng'ance not ev'n Thine can dread Amb. in Jerem. cap. 9. Whither O Adam have thy transgressions led thee that thou shunn'st thy God whom before thou sought'st That Fear betrays thy Crime that Flight thy Prevarication XIII Are not my days few cease then and let me alone that I may bewail my self a little Iob. 10. 20. XIII Are not my days few Cease then and let me alone that I may bewail my self a little Job 10. 20. MUst a few minutes added to my days Be thought a favour beyond thanks or praise Ages indeed might well deserve that name And render my Ingratitude to blame But the increase of a few days to come How little adds it to the slender sum As well the Infant that but treads the Stage Is said to leave it in a good old Age. As well poor Insects may be said to live To whom their Birth-day does their Fun'ral give So fading Flow'rs their hasty minutes count Whose longest hours scarce to one day amount Flow'rs in the morning Boys at noon-tide Men At night with age feeble as Boys agen Thus in one short-liv'd day they bloom and die And all the diff'rence of Mans ages try Wou'd Times o're-hasty Wheels their motion stay And the swift hours not post so fast away The Insects then might lengthen too their Song And the Flow'rs boast their day had been so long But Time is ever hastning to be gone And like a Stream the Year glides swiftly on Successive Months
delight is wanting on this Coast Ha! Said I no delight was wanting here Yes you want All alas you want my Dear Farewell you Stars and you bright Forms adieu My bus'ness here was with my Love not you There 's nothing good below without my Love Nor any thing worth a faint Wish above One World subdu'd the Conqu'ror did deplore That niggard Fate had not allow'd him more My vaster thoughts a thousand Worlds despise Nor lose one wish on such a worthless prize Not all the Universe from Pole to Pole Heav'n Earth and Sea can fill my boundless Soul What neither Earths wide limits can contain Nor the large Empire of the spreading Main Nor Heav'n whose vaster Globe does both inclose â—hat's the sole Object my ambition knows â—ill now alas my Soul at shadows caught â—nd always was deceiv'd in what it sought â—hou Lord alone art Heav'n Earth Sea to me â—hou Lord art All all nothing without Thee Aug. Solil cap. 20. â—hatever is contained within the compass of Heaven is beneath the Soul of Man which was made to enjoy the chiefest Good above in whose possession alone it can be happy Wo is me that I am constrained to dwell with Mesech and to have my habitation among the tents of Kedar Psal. 120. 4. VII â—o is me that I am constrained to dwell with Mesech and to have my habitation among the tents of Kedar Psal 120. 4. Till does the Sun with usual motion steer The revolutions of the circling Year Gibeons wondrous Solstice is renew'd â—â—en at the mighty Joshua 's beck he stood â— sure his motion 's become retrograde â— â—nce he turn'd the Hebrew Dial's shade â—hy else shou'd I who now am past the age â—ow'd to tread this Worlds unhappy Stage â—y shou'd I be deny'd an Exit now â—e play'd my part and have no more to do â—here on Earth a Blessing to repair â— injurious force of my detainâ—r there â—â— wou'd I welcom any fav'ring death â—ease me of the burthen of my breath By one sure stroke kind Fate my soul reprieve For 't is continual dying here to live Here our chief bliss is an uncertain Joy Which swift vicissitudes of ill destroy Just as the Sun who rising bright and gay In Clouds and Show'rs concludes the weeping day So boisterous gusts oft' tender Flow'rs invade By tempting winds too soon abroad betray'd Here envious of each others settlement All things contend each other to supplant The second minute drives the first away And Night 's impatient to succeed the Day The eager Summer thinks the Spring too long And Autumn frets that Summer is not gone But Autumn 's self to Winter must give way Lest its cold Frosts o'retake and punish his delay Behold you Sea how smooth without a frown See while I speak how curl'd how rough 't is grown Look how serene's the sky how calm the air Now hark it thunders round the Hemisphere This great Inconstancy of human state Corrupts each minute of our happy fate But oh the worst of ills is still behind The rav'nous converse with our beastly kind â—â—re Nature first in anger did intend A plague of Monsters o're the world to send Then brought forth her most brutish Off-spring Men And turn'd each house into a savage den â—â— this rapacious species we may find All that 's destructive in the preying kind Lion Wolf Tyger Bear and Crocodile Strong to devour and cunning to beguile These Beasts are led to prey by appetite And that once pleas'd in no more blood delight But Man like Hell has an insatiate thirst And still is keenest when so full to burst This raises Fraud makes Treach'ry fine and gay While banish'd Justice flies disrob'd away This fills the world with loud allarms of War And turns the peaceful Plough-share to a hostile Spear Who wou'd be slave to such a Tyrant-life That still engages him in noise and strife Long since alas I did my years compleat And serv'd for freedom still deny'd by Fate When I compute to what a price amount My mis-spent days I 'm bankrupt in th' account Oh! what strange frenzy does those men possess Who rashly deem long life a happiness They sure are strangers to the Joys above Who more than Home a wretched Exile love But Heav'n's remote and its far-distant bliss Appears minute to our mistaken eyes Ah! why my Countrey art thou plac'd so far That I am still a tedious wanderer Happier the Exiles of old Heathen Rome Whom only Tyber did divide from home While to remoter banishment design'd A vast Abyss 'twixt Heav'n and me I find The Hebrew slaves in Harvest were set free My Harvest 's come why not my Liberty The swift fore-runner of the welcom Spring Finds after Winters cold a time to sing She who did long in dark recesses lie Now flys abroad and re-salutes the Sky But I still live excluded from above Deny'd the Object of my Bliss and Love Haste haste my God and take me up to Thee There let me live where I was made to be Aug. Serm. 43. There are two tormentors of the Soul which do not torture it together but by turns Their names are Fear and Grief When it is well with you you fear when ill you grieve O wretched man that I am who shall deliver me from the body of this death Rom. 7. 24. VIII O wretched man that I am who shall deliver me from the body of this death Rom. 7. 24. WHere are the lost delights for which I grieve But which my sorrows never shall retrieve Such vast delights but mention not the loss Whose sad remembrance is thy greatest cross And fate is kindest when it robs us so To take away our sense of suffering too On our first Parents folly we exclaim As if They only were as first to blame On Eve and Adam we discharge our rage And thus expose our naked Parentage But I alas condemn not them alone Nor while I mind their fall forget my own With Eve I was consenting to the cheat Impos'd on Adam and helpt him to eat Hence I my nakedness and shame deriv'd And skins of Beasts to cover both receiv'd And from my forfeit Eden justly driv'n The curse of Earth and the contempt of Heav'n Nor do I now the general loss bemoan My grief 's deficient to bewail my own The tragick story from my Birth I 'll take For early grief did my first silence break 'T was Julyes month the gratefull'st of the year Tho all my life December did appear The Twenty-seventh Oh! had it been my last I had not mourn'd nor that made too much haste That was the fatal day that gave me breath Which prov'd almost my teeming Parent 's death And still as then to her alas I 've been A true Benoni not a Benjamin No sooner was I for the Cradle drest But a strange horror all around possest Who with one dire prophetick voice presage Th' attending mis'ries of my growing age Why didst thou give me
life more fatal day Than that which took th' Aegyptian Males away No more be numbred in the Calender But in thy place let a large blot appear Or if thou must thy annual station keep Let each hour thunder and each minute weep Let as on Cain some mark be fix'd on Thee That giving life didst worse than murder me Now Friends I find your fatal Aug'ry true My woes each other like my hours pursue Hence the large sources of my tears arise And no dry minute wipes my flowing eyes No sooner had I left my childish plays The harmless pastimes of my happy days Now past a child yet still in Judgment so I study'd first what I was not to know And my first grief was to lament my fate And yet 't was seldom I had time for that My stubborn Soul a long resistance made Impatient thus by Nature to be sway'd Oft' strove to Heav'n to raise its lofty flight As oft' supprest by its gross body's weight But what it cou'd not reach its eyes pursue Then it cry'd Ah God! then shed a briny dew Twice more it wou'd repeat the pleasing noise But struggling sighs restrain'd th'impris'n'd voice Such sure were felt in Babels Monarch's breast When of his Throne and Nature dispossest But conquer'd patience yields at last to grief And thus I vent my wo and beg relief Blest Author of my life hear my complaint And free this captive from its loath'd restraint Speak but the word thy Servant shall be free Thou mad'st me thus o thus unbody me Or if thou wilt not this relief afford Grant some kind Poyson or some friendly Sword Dying I 'll hug the Author of my Death And beg his pardon with my-latest breath But to save man the guilt send some Disease Death in the most afrighting shape will please Were I to act Perillus scorching Scene I shou'd rejoyce to hear my self complain Oh Heav'n my patience is o'recome by grief Is there above no succour no relief The mercy Death is all I thee implore Lord grant it soon lest I blaspheme thy pow'r When for dispatch tormented wretches pray No cruelty's so barbarous as delay Why am I to this noisom carcase ty'd Whose stench is death in all its ghastly pride Then speak the word and I shall soon be free Thou form'dst me thus o thus unbody me Amb. in Psal 118. How does that Soul live that is inclosed in a covering of death I am in a straight between two having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ. Philip. 1. 23. IX â— am in a straight between two having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ Philip. 1. 23. HOw shall I do to fix my doubtful love Shall I remain below or soar above â—ere Earth detains me and retards my flight â—here Heav'n invites me to sublime delight â—â—av'n calls aloud and bids me haste away â—hile Earth allures and gently whispers stay â—ut hence thou sly Inchantress of my heart â—l break thy fetters and despise thy art â—aste haste kind Fate unlock my Prison door â—ere I releas'd how I aloft wou'd soar â—ee Lord my struggling arms tow'rds Thee are sent â—nd strive to grasp thee in their wide extent â—â— had I pow'r to mount above the Pole â—â— kiss the Centre of my longing Soul But thou above derid'st my weak designs And still opposest what thy word injoyns Vainly I beg what thou dost still deny And stretch my hands toreach what 's plac'd too high Oft' to my self false Joys of Thee I feign And think thou kindly com'st to break my Chain Now now I cry my Soul shall soar above But this alas was all dissembled love Sure this belief some pity might obtain Thou shou'dst at least for this have broke my Chain But if I 'm still confin'd my wings I 'll try And if I fail in high attempts I die But see He comes and as he glides along He beckons me and seems to say come on I 'll rise and flie into his lov'd embrace And snatch a kiss a thousand from his face Now now he 's near his sacred Robe I touch And I shall grasp him at the next approach But he alas has mock'd my vain design And fled these arms these slighted arms of mine For tho the distance ne're so little be It seems th' Extremes of the vast Globe to me Thus does my Love my longing tantalize And bids me follow while too fast he flies Thus sportive Love delights in little cheats Which oft' are punish'd with severe deceits The World has an Original in me To paint deluded Lovers misery And he who has his easie Fair betray'd Finds all his falshood with large Int'rest paid I ne're suspected thou cou'dst faithless be But sad experience has instructed me As a chain'd Mastiff begging to be loose With restless howlings fills the deafned house But if deny'd his teeth the Chain engage And vent on that their inoffensive rage So I complain petition to be freed And humbly prostrate beg the help I need But when you frown and my request deny Deaf as the Rocks to my repeated cry Then I against my hated Clog exclaim And on my Chain lay all the guilty blame Thus grief pretends by giving passion vent To ease the pain of my Imprisonment But I unjustly blame my Chain alone And spare the cruel hand that ty'd it on Well might the barb'rous load of Chains I bear Become a Renegado slave to wear But why this harsh ill usage Love to me Whose whole endeavour is to come to Thee But when my Soul attempts a lofty flight T is still supprest by a gross bodies weight So fare young Birds by Nature wing'd in vain Whom sportful Boys with scanty twines restrain When eager to retrieve their native air They rise a little height and flutter there But having to their utmost limits flown The more they strive to mount they fall the faste dowâ— Each tho it sleeps in its young Tyrants breast And is with Banquets from his lips carest Yet prizes more the freedom of the Wood Than all the Dainties of its dear-bought food Could tears dissolve my Chains O with what ease â—'d weep a Deluge for a quick release But tears are vain reach Lord thy hands to me And in return I 'll streach my Chains to thee Thou canst unty these stubborn bands alone Oh! do thou take them off because thou putst them on Chrysost hom 55. ad pop Antioch How long shall we be fastned here we stick to the Earth as if we should always live there we wallow in the mire God gave us bodies of earth that we should carry them to Heaven not that we should by them debase our Souls to the Earth Bring my Soul out of prison that I may praise thy name Psal. 142. 9. X. Bring my Soul out of prison that I may praise thy name Psal 142. 9. I Who did once thro th'airs wide Regions rove Free Denizon of the vast Realm above Now to a
closely each other trace And meet the Sun along his annual race While the swift hours are pressing forward still And once gone by are irretrievable Thus envious Time loves on it self to prey And still thro its own Entrails eats its way So wasting Lamps by their own flames expire And kindle at themselves their Fun'ral Fire Thus it s own course the circling Year pursues Till like the Wheels on which 't is mov'd it grows This Truth the Poets weightily exprest When they made Saturn on his Off-spring feast For Time on Months and Years its Children feeds And kills with motion what its motion breeds Hours waste their Days the Days their Months consume And the rapacious Months their Years entomb Thus Years Months Days and Hours still keep their round Till all in vast Eternity are drown'd Then Lord allow my grief some little space To mourn the shortness of my hasty race I wish not time for laughter if I did My circumstances and the place forbid All I desire is time for grief and tears Let that be all th' addition to my years Which tho but short have yet been full of sin More than my time was to repent it in Yet if thou grant'st me some few minutes more They 'll make amends for my short days before Drop then my eyes you cannot flow too fast While you delay what precious time is lost 'T is done my tears have a prevailing force And Heav'n's appeas'd now stop their eager course Hieron ad Paulam Epist 21. â—hen man first sinn'd he chang'd Eternity for Mortality Ninety years or thereabouts But sin increasing by degrees Mans life was contracted to a very short space XIV Oh! that they were wise that they understood this that they would consider their latter end Deut. 32. 29. XIV Oh! that they were wise that they understood this that they would consider their latter-end Deut. 32. 29. SHame on besotted man whose baffled mind Is to all dangers but the present blind Whose thoughts are all imploy'd on mischiefs near But ills remote never fore-see or fear The Soldier is prepar'd before th'allarm The Signal giv'n 't wou'd be too late to arm The Pylot's fore-sight waits each distant blast And loses no advantage in his haste Th' industrious Hind manures and sows the Field Which he expects a plenteous Crop should yield The lab'ring Ant in Summer stores at home Provision against Age and Winter come But oh what means Mans stupid negligence That of the future has no care or sense Does he expect Eternity below A life that shall no alteration know He 's much abus'd inevitable Death Tho it delays will one day stop his breath Vain are the hopes the firmest Leagues produce The Tyrant keeps no Faith regards no Truce He does not to the Peace he makes incline To take advantage is his whole design To him Alliance is an empty name He does all Int'rests but his own disclaim Fiercely the greedy spoiler strikes at all A prey for his insatiate Jaws too small He tears ev'n tender Infants from the breast And wraps them in a Shrowd ere for the Cradle drâ— Nor Sex nor Age the grim Destroyer spares Unmov'd alike by Innocence as Years Like common Soldiers chief Commanders die And like Commanders common Soldiers lie No shining Dust appears in Craesus Urn Tho all he touch'd he seem'd to Gold to turn â—or boasts fair Rachel's face that Beauty here â—or which the Patriarch serv'd his twice-sev'n year â—nd never thought the pleasing Purchase dear Ev'n Dives here from Laz'rus is not known For now One's Purple th' Other's Rags are gone Each has no Mansion but his narrow Cell Equal in colour and alike in smell Why then shou'd man of such vain Treasure boast So difficultly gain'd so eas'ly lost For late or early all resign their breath And bend pale Victims to their Conqu'ror Death Each Sex each Age Profession and Degree Moves tow'rds this Centre of Humanity But did they not a farther Journey go And that to die were all they had to do Cou'd but their Souls dissolve as fast away As their corrupting Carcasses decay They'd covet Death to end their present cares And for prevention of their future fears They'd to the Grave as an Asylum run And court the stroke which now they wish to shuâ— But Death alas ends not their miseries The Soul 's immortal tho the Body dies Which soon as from it s Pris'n of Clay enlarg'd At Heav'ns Tribunal's sentenc'd or discharg'd Before an awful Pow'r just and severe Round whose bright head consuming flames appear The shackl'd Captive dazl'd at his sight Dejected stands and trembles with the fright While with strict scrutiny the God surveys Its heart and close impieties displays The wretch convicted does its guilt confess Nor hopes for mercy for concealment less While He th' Accuser Judge and Witness too Damns it to an Eternity of woe Where since no hope of an Appeal appears ' Twou'd fain dissolve and drown it self in tears What terrors then seize the forsaken Soul That finds no Patron for a Cause so foul â—hen it implores some Mountain to prevent â—y a kind crush its shame and punishment O wretched Soul just Judge hard Sentence too â—hat hardn'd wretch dares sin that thinks on You â—et here alas ends not the fatal grief â—here is another Death another Life Life as boundless as Eternity Death whence shall no Resurrection be â—hat Hell of Torments shall in This be found â—ith what a Heav'n of Joys shall That abound â—hat fill'd with Musick of th' Angelick Choir â—hall the blest Souls with Extasie inspire â—hile This disturb'd at ev'ry hideous yell â—hall in the Damn'd raise a new dread of Hell â—hat knows no sharp excess of cold or heat â— This the wretches always freeze or sweat â—here reign Eternal Rest and soft Repose â—ere painful toil no end or measure knows â—hat void of grief does nought afflictive see â—his still disturb'd from trouble's never free O happy Life O vast unequall'd Bliss O Death accurs'd O endless Miseries Either to That or This we daily bend All our endeavours have no other end Be wise then Man nor let thy care be vain To shun the Mis'ry and the Bliss obtain Give Heav'n thy Heart if thou its Crown wou'dâ— gain Aug. Soliloq cap. 3. What more lamentable and more dreadful can be thought of than that terrible Sentence Go what more delightful than that pleasing Invitation Come They are two words of which nothing can be heard more affrighting than the One nothing more rejoycing than the Other My life is waxen old with heaviness and my years with mourning Psal. 31. 11 XV. My life is waxen old with heaviness and my years with mourning Psal 31. 11. WHat lowring Star rul'd my unhappy Birth And banish'd thence all days of ease and mirth â—hile expectation does delude my mind â—eas'd with vain hope some smiling hour to find â—t still that smiling hour forbears to come â—d sends a row of Mourners
in its room â—op'd alternate courses in each day â—d that the foul to fairer wou'd give way â—d as the Sun dispels the Clouds of Night â—hen he to Heav'n restores his welcom Light â— as the Moons kind infl'ence brings again â—e refluous motion of the low-ebb'd Main â—â— with insuccesful Augury â—esag'd things so as I wou'd have them be But oh my grief exceeds in length and sum The Widows Tribute at her Husbands Tomb She when the Author of her Joy is gone Is twice-six months confin'd to mourn alone Yet the last half she does not as before Hide her smooth Fore-head in a close Bendore But all my years are in deep mourning spent There 's not a month not one short day exempt No rules give bounds or measure to my woes But their increase like the feign'd Hydra's grow My life so much in sighs and tears is spent It minds that least for which 't was chiefly meant 'T is true Storms often make the Ocean swell But the most violent are shortest still For when with eager fury they engage They lose themselves in their excess of rage And when their Winter-blasts dis-robe the Wood Their Summer-airs make all the trespass good So that while thus the inj'ry they repair The loss proves gainful to the sufferer But grief does all my hapless years imploy Nor grants me one Parenthesis of Joy My Musick is in sighs and groans exprest With my own hands extorted from my breast This sad diversion is my sole delight This my companion of the day and night How oft' have sighs while I my words confin'd Broke Prison and betray'd my troubl'd mind How oft' have I in tears consum'd the day And in complaints pass'd the long night away Oft' you my Friends condemn'd my sorrows so That oft' I labor'd to suppress them too Let loose the reins to mirth you always cry'd To lose the reins alas in vain I try'd For when with laughter I a sigh supprest â—t rais'd a fatal conflict in my breast And if I wish for sleep to close my eyes Still a fresh show'r that envy'd bliss denies Then if I stop its course impetuous grown T will force its way and bear the Sluces down Each Brook whose stream my tears have made to rise Each shady Grove fill'd with my mournful cries Each lonely Vale and ev'ry conscious Hill The kind repeaters of my sorrows still These know the troubles which I wish'd conceâ— Were by loud throbbings of my heart reveal'd Till mov'd with pity of my sad complaint The Ecchoes too grew sorrowfully quaint My secret moans they vented o're again By turns we wept and did by turns complain So mov'd by Progne's lamentable Note Sad Philomel unlocks her mournful throat As if the em'lous Rivals were at strife Whose tongue shou'd best express the height of grâ— The widow'd Turtle so bewails her Mate With grief unalterable as his Fate And so the Stars have my sad life design'd That not one minute shou'd be fair or kind And that my sorrows may not find relief By wanting new occasions for my grief 'T is their decree That as my Infant-breath Began with sighs so I shou'd sigh to death Chrysost in Psal 115. Ought we not worthily to lament who are in a strange Countrey and banish'd to a Climate remote from our Native Soil My soul breaketh out for the very fervent desire that it hath allways to thy Iudgments Psal 119. 20. DESIRES OF THE Religious Soul BOOK the Second I. My soul breaketh out for the very fervent desire that it hath always unto thy Judgments Psal 119. 20. WHile Heav'n and Earth solicite me to love My doubtful choice is puzl'd which t' approve â—eav'n cries obey while Earth proclaims be free â—eav'n urges duty Earth pleads liberty Call'd hence by Heav'n by Earth I 'm call'd agaiâ— Tost like a Vessel on the restless Main These diff'rent Wo'ers a doubtful Combat wage And thus obstruct the choice they wou'd engage Ah! t is enough let my long-harast mind In the best choice a quiet Haven find Oh! my dear God or let me never love Or let me only Thy commands approve 'T is true 't is pleasant to be free to choose And when we will accept when not refuse Freedom of choice endures restraint but ill 'T is usurpation on th' unbounded will So from his Harness loos'd the neighing Steed Hasts to the Pastures where he loves to feed So the glad Ox from the Ploughs burthen freed Runs lowing on to wanton in the Mead And when the Hinde their freedom wou'd revokâ— This scorns his Harness That defies the Yoak For freedom in our choice we count a bliss Eager to choose tho oft' we choose amiss So the young Prodigal impatient grown To manage his entire Estate alone Takes from his prudent Father's frugal care His Stock by that improv'd and thriv'n there But his own Steward made with eager haste He does the slow-gain'd Patrimony waste Till starv'd by riot and with want opprest He feeds with Swine himself the greater Beast Thus in Destruction often we rejoyce Pleas'd with our ruin since it was our choice How do we weary Heav'n with diff'rent Pray'rs The medly sure ridiculous appears One begs a Wife nor thinks a greater bliss Another's earnest to be rid of his This prays for Children That o're-stock'd repines At the too fruitful Issue of his Loins This asks his Father's days may be prolong'd That if his Father lives complains he 's wrong'd This covets to be old while That opprest With Age wou'd of his burthen be releast Scarce in Ten thousand any Two agree Nay some dislike what they just wish'd to be None knows this minute what he shou'd require Since ev'n the next begets a new desire So Women pine with various Longing-fits When Breeding has deprav'd their appetites The humorsom impertinent Disease Makes that which pleas'd them most as much diâ—pleasâ— Oh! why like them grown restless with desire Do my vain thoughts to boundless hopes aspire Be gone false hopes vain wishes anxious fears Hence you disturbers of my peaceful years Oh! my dear God or let me never love Or let me only Thy commands approve For to obey the Precepts giv'n by Thee Exceeds the Worlds pretended liberty Aug. Solil cap. 12. Allure O Lord my desires with thy sweetness which thou hast hid from them that fear thee that they may desire thee with eternal longings lest the inward relish being deceived may mistake bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter II O that my ways were made so direct that I might keep thy Statutes Psal 119. 5. II. O that my ways were made so direct that I might keep thy Statutes Psal 119. 5. IN what a maze of Error do I stray Where various paths confound my doubtful way This to the right That to the left-hand lies Here Vales descend there swelling Mountains rise This has an easie That a rugged way The treach'ry This conceals That does betray But whither these so diff'rent courses go
As the chas'd Hart for the refreshing stream Cyril in Joan. lib. 3. cap. 10. It is an excellent water that allays the pernicious thirst of this world and the heat of Vice that washes off all the stains of sin that waters and improves the Earth in which our Souls inhabit and restores the mind of man that thirsts with an earnest desire to its God When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal. 42. 2. XII When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal 42. 2. WIth promis'd Joys my ears thou oft' didst fill But they are only Joys of promise still Didst thou not say thou soon wou'dst call me home Be just my Love and kindly bid me come Expecting Lovers count each hour a day And death to them 's less dreadful than delay A tedious train of months and years is gone Since first you bid me hope yet gave me none Why with delays dost thou abuse my love And fail my vain expectancies above While thus th' insulting Crowd derides my woe Where 's now your Love how well he keeps his Vow Haste then and home thy longing Lover take If not for mine yet for thy promise sake When shall I come before thy Throne and see Thy glorious Scepter kindly stretch'd to me For Thee I pine for Thee I am undone As drooping Flow'rs that want their Parent Sun O cruel tort'rer of my wounded Soul Grant me thy presence and I shall be whole O when thou Joy of all admiring eyes When shall I see thee on thy Throne of bliss As when unwelcom night begins its sway And throws its sable mantle o're the day The withering glories of the Garden fade And weeping Groves bewail their lonely shade To melancholly silence men retire And no sweet Note sounds from the feather'd Choir But hardly can the dawning morn display The welcom Ensigns of th' approaching day But the glad Gardens deck themselves anew And the cheer'd Groves shake off their heavy Dew To early homage Man himself devotes And Birds in Anthems strain their tuneful throats So without Thee I grieve I pine I mourn So triumph so revive at Thy return But Thou unkind bidst me delight my eyes With other Beauties other Rarities Sometimes thou bidst me mark the flow'ry Field What various scents and shews its Pastures yield Then to the Stars thou dost direct my sight For they from Thine derive their borrow'd light Then saist Contemplate Man in Him thou 'lt see The great resemblance of thy Love and Me. Why wou'dst thou thus deceive me with a shade A trifling Image that will quickly fade My fancy stoops not to a mortal aim Thou thou hast kindled and must quench my flame O glorious Face worthy a Pow'r Divine Where Love and Awe with equal mixture shine Triumphant Majesty of that bright Ray Where blushing Angels prostrate homage pay We in thy Works thy fix'd impressions trace Yet still but faint reflections of thy Face When this inchanted World 's compar'd with Thee It s boasted Beauty 's all deformity Thy Stars no such transcending glories own As Thine whose light exceeds all theirs in one This truth some one of them can best declare Who on the Mount thy blest spectators were Who on Thy Glories were allow'd to gaze And saw Heav'n opned in Thy wondrous Face Nor can we blame thy great Apostle's Zeal To whom thou didst that happy sight reveal That slighting all things heretofore most dear Was all for building Tabernacles there Yet he beheld Thee then within a Veil The killing Rays thou kindly didst conceal He saw a lambent flame thy Face surround Thy Temples with a dazling Glory crown'd How had he wondred at the nobler Light Whose bare Reflection was so heav'nly bright But oh That 's inaccessible to humane sight Then me oh me to that blest state receive Where I may see thee all and seeing live When will that happy day of Vision be When I shall make a near approach to Thee Be wrapt in Clouds and lost in Mystery 'T is true the Sacred Elements impart Thy virt'ual presence to my faithful heart But to my sense still unreveal'd thou art This tho a great is an imperfect bliss T' embrace a Cloud for the bright God I wish My Soul a more exalted pitch wou'd sly And view Thee in the heights of Majesty Oh! when shall I behold Thee all serene Without an envious cloudy Veil between When distant Faith shall in near Vision cease And still my Love shall with my Joy increase That happy day dear as these Eyes shall be And more than all the dearest things but Thee Aug. in Psal 42. â—f thou sindest any thing better than to behold the face of God haste thee thither Wo be to that love of thine if thou dost but imagine any thing more beautiful than He from whom all Beauty that delights thee is derived O that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal. 55. 6. XIII â— that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal 55. 6. THo great Creator I receive from Thee All that I am and all I hope to be â—et might this humble Clay expostulate â— wou'd complain of my defective state To Man th' ast given the boundless Regency Of three vast Realms the Ocean Earth and Sky But oh how shall this ample Pow'r be try'd When still the means to use it are deny'd Pardon my hasty censure of thy skill Who think thy mighty Work defective still Nor am I forward to correct thy Art By wishing man a Casement in his heart Whose dark recesses all the world might see That prospect justly is reserv'd for Thee But the defect I mourn is greater far His want of Wings to bear him thro the Air. Inferiour Creatures no perfection want To hinder their enjoyment of Thy grant The scaly Race have nimble Fins allow'd With which they range about their native Flood And all the feather'd Tenants of the Air Born up on tow'ring Wings expatiate there Thus ev'ry Creature finds a blest content Adapted to its proper Element But Man for the command of all design'd Is still to One injuriously confin'd While Nature often is extravagant And gives his Subjects more than what they want Some of the watry kind we know can fly And visit when they please the lofty Sky And in exchange some of the aëry brood Descend and turn bold Pirates in the Flood While still to Man Heav'n does all means deny To exercise his vain Authority Ev'n buzzing Insects with light wings are blest â—n whose small frame Heav'n has much art exprest But Man the great the noble Master-piece Wants a perfection that abounds in these Nay some the meanest of the feather'd kind For neither profit nor delight design'd Stretch their Dominions to a vast extent Nor pleas'd with Two range a third Element Sometimes on Earth they walk with stately pace And sport and