Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A55757
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A Paradox against life an heroick poem / written by the Lords in the Tower.
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1681
(1681)
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Wing P331; ESTC R28148
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4,835
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16
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Does turn in Paine and never quiet Hang. Life which from Worldly Care Contracts each Day A Rust which Eates our Polish't joyes away Life is a strange and Fatal Energy Which does imploy Our Sence in Misery It winds the Curious Clock-Work up and strait To make it go hangs on a Heavy Wait. The Chrystal Spheres the Lanthorns of Our Sight Whether by drawing or dispersing Light The gen'ral Spies that ev'ry thing do mark Of all the Lesser World the brightest Spark Which straight when clos'd does make the Great seem Dark Did of Chief Pleasures once the Center prove Both from the World Below and that Above Suns of the Senses Mirrors of the Mind Twin-Orbs of Light which once so Brightly shin'd The Windowes of the Man 'till Sight doth fail Clear as the Chrystals and as Chrystals frail Being perverted from their Use at first Are turn'd to Stars of Pride and Flames of Lust By These as Doors all Mischiefs enter in The Baits the Panders and the Gates of Sin These Living Lab'rynths entertaining Sounds Which bring the Stuff on which the Judgment Grounds As ready Porters at Attendance sit And whatsoever strikes do straight Admit These oft' with Pleasure smooth Afflicting Care VVhil'st some Harmonious Sound does Charm the Ayr. Yet like some Strumpet that 's grown Dissolute Are to the most Obscene a Prostitute VVhil'st strong Desires faint Goodness do Controul And Circes-like pour Poison in the Soul By the strange Charms of a Seducing Tongue Are Tempted and Corrupted unto Wrong Sin makes Attaques still on the Weaker Parts And by our Eyes and Ears does Storm our Hearts These are the Mines which first blow up the Mind To Lust Ambition Sins of ev'ry kind Which all our Strength by Treaty do betray ' Gainst Sense and Reasons Charge a Guard-less way I' th' Ear and Eye Satan in Ambush lay These Potent-Entries can hold nothing out But give each Minute grounds for Fear or Doubt Impregnable had this Frail-Fort of Dust Been against all the Batteries of Lust Had not his Senses wrought his overthrow By holding Correspondence with the Foe Besiegers quickly may the Castle Win If they Corrupt the Sentinels Within Unhappy Man VVhose Lifes sublimest Bliss In the Enjoyment but his Ruin is Yet Spaniel-natur'd though he 's Beaten so The Rod he Kisses and in Love does grow With the Inchanting Syrens of his VVo. Go ask the Tortur'd VVretch upon the Rack VVhen his strong Joynts and Nerv's with Anguish Crack How 't is he Knows he suffers so much Pain He 'l Cry He Feels it and of Life complain Life is by her own Cruelty undone For Sence no longer Feels than Life layes on She Chains the Slave to th' Gallie bids him Row VVhich he must do ' cause Life will have it so Let us no more against the Turks Exclaim This prouder Sultan must endure the Blame She puts us to a Vast Expence we pay All that we Have Each Moment for her Stay And must at Ev'ry Turn be waited on For if Neglected the shye Guest is gone BEHOLD the greatest Man of all the East VVho was if Riches make Man so most Blest The Dying Swan in a Melodious Strain For all His Patience does of Life complain His Comforters were such they brought far more Sorrow than all his Messengers before From Death alone He does expect His Cure Death that 's the last of Remedies and Sure Death whose Officious Hand Binds up the Sore VVhich with a Pot-sherd he had Prob'd before The Friendly Porter who Unlocks the Gate And bids the Lazer now no longer Wait. Death that does Wing him for 's Eternal Home And bids him Flie quick as his Thoughts have done Both by the Separation now will Gain One Bliss the Other Freedom from All Pain Then the Souls Knowledge which before alone Was at the best but Speculation Will be reduced to a Certaintie What now She Knows by Hear-say then She 'l See As Travellers best Know if Fame speak True When they in Forrein Lands the Wonder View She recollects Her Faculties Diffus'd Amid'st Frail Flesh no more to be Abus'd Then parts in Tryumph freed from Earthly Toyles Yet Stayes to 'th last to gather up Her Spoyles VVHY are We holden in this sad Suspence Death 's the great'st Blessing that You can Dispence The Cruel Catt thus Dallies with her Prey Sporting awhile with what she makes Away Make hast lest Nature should Anticipate The Glorious Work that is design'd for Fate We like to Codrus would ev'n Death Embrace If for Our Country's Good and Publick Peace To th' Innocent to Dye's an Easy Thing Death does i' th' dread'st Accost no Terror bring An Ax no more our Spirits can Command Than can a Phleghm in the Physitians Hand Death in its self is but a Harmless Thing 'T is Apprehention Contributes the Sting And since a Debt to Nature we do own Better on Scaffolds paid than Beds of Down Those Lords of Fortune sweeten ev'ry State Who can Command Themselves though not their Fate Thy Rod Affliction is to us most Dear VVho lays it on will give us Strength to bear The storms of Fate we bravely can defie Whilst on the Rock of Ages we rely And missing but the false World's Glories do Miss all the Ills which do Attend it Too Here from Court-Ryots we secured are From Cheats of Marts and Clamors of the Bar And from the Pulpit A Worse Mischief far VVhat great Perfections can those Parsons Reach VVho far from Practice only strive to Preach VVho Learn their Science as an Art to Gain And wanting Salt would Season Souls in Vain Who to Buy Earth do Sell out shares of Heaven And drive a Trade with what is freely Given Vile Avarice and Pride From Heaven Accurst In all Men Bad but in a Church-Man Worst That King who was for Wisdom most Approv'd Whose Mind and Fortune in like Measure mov'd Reacht to those Heights of Bliss that Earth could Breed Whil'st Wealth and Honour striv'd which should Exceed Even He was Crost Alive and Scorn'd when Dead By Lifes great Happiness unhappy Made Of Senceless Honour we Renounce the Care The First Man he was Made the rest Born Bare These Floating Treasures come and go with Breath And nothing have to give so good as Death Honour and Wealth Ambitions Twins with Pains Are bred which Man with Tort'ring Care Maintains Only the Prickles in Possession stay When these Gay Roses Fade and Fall away We can without a Paradox Believe Though still Confin'd we do in Freedom Live And when the Audit of our Days is come And all our Items in one Total Sum The Chearfulness with which to Death wee 'l go A Dying Proof shall of this Poem show FINIS
A PARADOX Against LIFE Written By the LORDS in the TOWER An Heroick Poem Beatus Ante Obitum Nemo LONDON Printed for James Vade at the Cock and Sugar-Loaf in Fleet-Street 1681. A Paradox against LIFE WHen GOD the Mighty Mass of Matter Made As yet no Light nor Form the Chaos had Darkness sole Monarch was Below the Mass Look't all Confus'd and with an Ethiop's Face 'Till the Almighty Fiat call'd forth Light From the Black VVomb of yet Eternal Night Light without which the VVorld had ne're been seen Nor good could e're the Six-Days VVork have been The living Stream was not to Pipes Convey'd But in the pure Eternal Fountain staid 'T was near the End of the Creation grown Before Life Now th' Unhappy Thing was known VVhen God the Gift First to the Fish was given For the Great Whale was the first-Born of Heaven Man though the First in Order was the Last That from his Maker did this Bounty Tast Too Sweet alas to be a Long Repast His Short-liv'd Glory but fore-run his Shame And Paradise did seem a Vanish'd Dream How short a time Poor Wretch thy Bliss did last Thy Brighter Morn was in its Rise Ore-cast O Fatal Ill Which Mankind may bemoan All Edens Fruits were freely Given save One. But things Unlawful most Affected be And Evab Long'd for the Forbidden Tree What Restless Passions Rackt the Doubtful Mind Who by Free-Will to Eat were quickly pin'd And a Plague worse than Famin left their Kind The passive Mind was by Enflam'd Desire To the New Fabrick's ruin set on Fire Vain and insatiat Appetite and Lust Have brought him Back more Low than to the Dust The World's First-Great-Recorder does Relate Of Wretched Man the Miserable State Who following Sence ' gainst Reason did Rebel And Traytor-like from All his Glories Fell. Whil'st in a State of Innocence He stood No Fear made Beasts seek Shelter in the Wood. Nor did the Birds with hasty Wings take Flight All Hover'd Round and Wonder'd at the Sight But when He Fell How Visible Sin was That Birds and Beasts could Read it in His Face With various hast th' afrighted Croud's Repair Some to the Woods some to remoter Ayr Thus when a Prince turns Traytor to the Laws His Loyal Subjects do decline his Cause Ah Curiousness First Cause of all Our Ill And yet the Plague which does Infect us still Now look no more for Rest for Toyl thou must Till whence First come thou bee'st brought back to Dust The Breath which Blest his Heaven-Stampt-Dust is now That which the Subject makes him of all Woe And rowles the troubl'd Bubble too and froe What does Man's Life when most Serene afford 'T is but a Worm that gnaws the fairest Gourd Our Days of Gladness are but short Reliefs Given to reserve us for enduring Griefs Poor Span of wretched Earth If measur'd by The tedious Raign of Life's Calamity Though thus Contracted still thou may'st Complain That yet too much of Patriarch does remain If in Long Life there may a Blessing be 'T was only known in the World's Infancy Man then a Stag or Raven could survive But we can scarce with Bats or Swallows Live We spend the Summer of Our Days as They To rear a pile of Dirt and so away The Sap of Life now to the Root is sunk And the Hydropick Earth the Juice hath drunk If Lifes Meanders to the Spring we trace It rises Troubled and in Storms doth pass Th' impetuous Torrent swelling we shall find Like Tydes born up by a strong Western Wind Mouldring the Bancks in which it is Confin'd It dwells in Blood and is the Tyde of Fate And does in Cares and Sorrows Circulate In secret Channels through the grosser Mass That Small-Red-Sea pursuing Life doth pass But no where Rests no Place affordeth Ease To this poor Mans uncurable Disease A breath soon gone made up of Sighs and Groans Th' unhappy Ligament of Flesh and Bones From dull Privation and lean Emptiness A Quintescence deriv'd from Nothingness The false and gaudy Colours of the Bowe May boast as much reallity as Thou Iris may be thy Rival in each part Who but the Dream of a faint Shadow art Sun Water Earth the Elements in One Doe Club alike for your Production Both as the Smoak do vanish and Our Breath Serves only to bear up the Wings of Death A busy noisy thing that do'st Express But hollow joy and real Emptiness Almost each Circumstance of Life declares How flat Man's Joyes are and how sharp his Cares A Glowe-worms fainter Light that shines in vain Extinguisht by the least of Cynthias Train Isthmu's of Earth That do'st so proudly rise And thrust thy self 'twixt two Eternities That do'st in pain the shock of time sustain And washt away art swallow'd in the Main This vast Triangle this most Huge small thing Which all the World within it self can bring Lifes quaking Center still first Quick last Kill'd Like to some vast Abysse can ne're be fill'd It still is pin'd and does complain for Rest By its continual beating in our Breast Mysterious Riddle which the Grave does Read We can't be truly said to Live 'till Dead We to a Forraign Country Natives are And must by Pain and Travel enter there 'Till once Arriv'd where we should dayly tend Cares painful Progress cannot have an End Our being from Above does let us Know We 're in Antipathy to things below And all our Ayery Joyes do Anguish bring They want the Honey but retain the Sting Yet hug Our selves in hopes that Life will grant Some good of which we still are Ignorant This Lesser World in which we so much Trust What is it but a Wind inclos'd in Dust A VVorld in which VVar never yet did Cease For still Intestine Foes disturb its Peace Unkinder Nature to a State of VVar Designs us though we most Defenceless are Man's Life 's a Warfare and we 're prest upon A most unequal Combat Three to One But the brave Victor reaps a Glorious Crown The wretched Creature Man 's no sooner Born But with Good-Morrows we Salute his Morn Though in a rugged and a narrow way The Pilgrim's bound to Travel out his Day But to his Inn when he does Safe Arrive Although his Night of Rest be come VVe Grieve VVith Joy we see him Launch into the Storm But when he reaches the Calm Port we Mourn What a Prepostr'ous Kindness do we show Paying Our Joy to th' Object of all Woe By the Reverse the Spartans do Express Their Joy and Sorrow in an Apter Dress Man at his Birth instructs us for to Cry Complaining strait of Life's great Injury And does Himself Weep his own Obsequie His Births Portentous and He falls upon An Ominous Precipitation The Lumpe of Earth is Kneaded up of Ill Swelling and Fainting though he goes Down-Hill What are those Joyes that He can call his own That make the bitter Draught of Life go down Life 's the great Hinge on which uneasie Man