Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A36029
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Poems on several occasions originals and translations.
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Dingley, William, 1672 or 3-1735.
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1694
(1694)
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Wing D1503; ESTC R837
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37,005
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122
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Destroying seems to Save Great was the Power great the Love Divine Which all preceding Miracles out-shine A meaner Prophet's Bones could once before When Dead themselves the Dead to Life Restore 'T was the Great Prophet's high Prerogative To make himself as well as others Live No Trumpet 's sound that body need revive Which is the Resurrection and the Life The Captain of Salvation needs no Call Nor Summon'd be himself that Summons all With him dead Saints forsake their ancient Urn With the Redeemer the Redeem'd return And by Experince teach us to believe All dye in Adam all in Adam live Fix then my Soul confide in this Belief And to thy Faith conform thy future Life Since that from Death thy Saviour rais'd has bin Rise from the Death Eternal Death of Sin Let not the Living Death as Life the Dead surprize Like wicked Souldiers sleep while holy Saints arise For tho' even these are Destin'd once to dye Death seems to them not Death but Extasy To the Late BISHOP of BATH and WELLS on his Departure from that See To You Great Sir my humble Muse is come To Pity since she can't reverse your Doom My Magdalene Converted first by You Stands afar off and does your Sorrows view Your Sorrows No. Your Temper I forget You kindly welcome ev'n the hardest Fate You quit your Diocess your Office leave With less Reluctance than you did Receive Contentment such a Blessing is as may By teaching to sustain the Loss repay Your Virtues all like Starry Orbs appear Brightest and largest in their lowest Sphere Ingrateful Wretch and cruel should I be To bear thy Loss as patiently as thee Ye Men of Bath for him let Tears be shed Who cloath'd the Naked who the Hungry fed Who nought for Private or Self-ends would save But like th'Apostles all in Common gave Thus he his Talent too of Knowledge us'd No less his Doctrines than his Goods diffus'd Ye Baths who oft turn others Pains to Ease Weep for your own as well as their Disease You who might once Bethesda's-Pool excel His Blessing made the Healing-Waters Heal. No need of a Celestial Angels Care When he Angelick-Man resided there But now your Efficacy will decrease Make Desolate the once frequented Place No Naham sure had bath'd his Body here Had not the Great Eiâ—ha dwelt so near At his Removal from that happy See None so Indifferent so Calm as he With the same Patience he his Wandrings bore As he had his * When with 6 other Bishops imprisoned in the Tower Confinement done before Tho we in him his Masters hardships read Who scarce knew where to lay his weary Head Adam my Pity shall no more engross Who bought an Apple with a Garden 's loss His Guilt depriv'd him of that blessed Coast Here Innocence its Paradise has lost Upon the Monthly FAST WHile Heathen Monarchs on themselves rely While they Mezentius-like the Gods defy Banquets and War are fit Companions thought As if they enjoy'd the Prey for which they fought These make the Pigmy soon Gigantick grow These make him Plump these Tall these Lusty too Yet ev'n these Feasts have chang'd to bloody War And made a Captive of a Conqueror While foul Excess thwarting their prime intent Impairs that Strength their mod'rate Diet leut But Christian Kings when they are Warlike seen Display a meaner yet a nobler Scene No costly Dainties crown the modest Board Each has a Stomach sharper than his Sword Till by their rig'rous Abstinence they grow As much their own as Adversaries Foe These are the means which pious Kings advance Above the reach of Conduct or of Chance Their Tears become the only Drink they tast Groanings their Musick Penitence their Feast When mortify'd with Hunger they repine They swallow Foes who plentifully Dine Foes clogg'd with Gluttony immers'd in Wine Unlikely these should bear the Spoils away Pharaoh's Fat Kine became the lean ones Prey He most secure from mortal Wounds is grown Who does not what Achilles once had done Baths not in Stygian Waters but his own Not such as those to Cowardise we owe Not such as parting Friends may challenge no. The Guilty Conscience makes the watry Eye That troubling Moon dos raise the Tide so high So Good Cornelius Fasting mixt with Tears Not for himself but for his Sins he fears And were his deeds by every Souldier shown The Red-coat almost would excel the Gown Nay those who cannot in the Field appear Tho' not in Person may be useful there Might we their lifted Hands like Moses see Reach up to Heaven and thence pluck Victory Then would their potent Prayers make us grant The Church Emphatically Militant And ev'n the Sacred Temple not in vain Reduc'd to Tabernacle once again What Palat now don 't Royal Dainties cloy Which cannot them with naked Swords enjoy Those Swords make ev'n a Feast become a Fast Whose very Sight can serve to wound the Tast 'T is Abstinence the healing Med'cine proves Abstinence Food at once and War removes Juno was forc'd to tast a Flower e're she Conceiv'd bold Mars War's bloody Deity Then pleasant Food as you would him eschew What first created War will War renew Would you have Tumults and Sedition cease By Fasting first within your self make Peace This will make furious Passions gentle grow Reduce the private and the common Foe This will compose Divisions this at length By Aiding thus extract from Weakness Strength The Final DISSOLUTION A Wake I cry'd awake my Tuneful Lyre Thou by thy various Notes thy self a Quire I struck she Groan'd I struck again but she Gave only Shrieks instead of Harmony When lo The loudest last Sound grates my Ear The Trumpet Natures Passing-Bell I hear The Sun asham'd to see his Doom does shroud His radiant Beams behind Night's darkest Cloud The Moon too Blusheth at her Fate in Blood And weeps her self into a Crimson Flood The falling Stars which falsly we so call Turn Lies to Truth and actually Fall The Heavens with more than usual Thunder shake And with their own not Earthly Substance crack The Lightning now from East to West does shine And all into one mighty Bonfire joyn The Elements dissolve with servent Sweat Ev'n Fire and Water now agree in Heat The finged Air not long since Liquid dries The breath of Life like those it leaveth Dies The parched Earth burns next and Cedars tall With Nether-woods are Fuel e're they sall The lofty Mountains with Convulsions tear As many Aeana's as are Hills appear Their Tops are kindled first which most aspire And Pyramids are more than like to Fire Thro' Stones thro' Clay the Flame its passage breaks To its Assistance it all Matter takes No more in Lime or Flints its presence cloaks These unstruck sparkle that untemper'd smoaks Beneath the Surface of the Earth does stray While hidden Metals melt themselves away Gold in Earth's Bowels cannot lie secure Ev'n in its Mines the Furnace does endure But to consume it not to
POEMS ON Several Occasions ORIGINALS and TRANSLATIONS Scrinia da magnis me Manus una capit Mart. Lib. 1. Epig. 3. Printed in the Year 1694. And are to be Sold by most Booksellers A DIALOGUE BETWEEN APOLLO and DAPHNE Apollo I. WHEN my Eye first gaz'd on thee Daphne Brighter far than me Oh! so sure was Cupid's Dart Piercing my unwary Heart Blind he All-seeing seem'd but I Seem'd blind with my All-seeing Eye Daph. II. Pray kind Phoebus pray forbear You 'le obtain no Favour here Chast Diana has my Vow Which I promis'd long ago To her I owe Virginity I can't thy Sister please and Thee She runs away Apollo III. Why so swift I 'me now I fear Forc'd to chase this tim'rous Deer Would you like Diana seem Be the Huntress not the Game Your light-feet ne're from me shall stray The World 's my Circuit every day Daph. IV. But you 'le wounded halt while I Wing'd with untouch'd Chastity Cut through craggy Rocks and Dales Proudest Hills and humbleft Vales Till like Prometheus I aspire And steal thy Swiftness not thy Fire Apollo V. Yet there 's one Reserve in store Which of Conquest is secure On my well-strung Harp I 'le Play Sweeter than the Thracian Lay Which stole ev'n Fury's Hearts away To tame Thee more Unkind than They. Daph. VI. Hence to Jove's Abode repair Love some beauteous Goddess there Other Flames Ascend you see Why should yours Descend to me Or else your Physick Druggs apply That you like me may Love defy Apollo VII Why to Heaven should I repair Alas alas my Heaven 's here Why go Court some Deity Thou a Goddess art to me Why with my Druggs my Pains remove 'T is you alone can heal my Love Daph. VIII Well since then I can't be free Peneus I resign to Thee Thou my Father art 't is you Gave me Life you take it too Make me a Stock a Tree a Grove Object of any thing but Love Apollo IX Be a Tree or what you will You shall be my Mistriss still For the richer Lawrel Crown I 'le reject a Golden one Thou shalt to Rome in Triumph ride Heroes thy Bride-groom thou their Bride Daph. X. I would sooner Phoebus be Wedded thus than now to Thee Such a Wedding sure will prove My Denial not my Love While Heroes Triumph over those Who than themselves are weaker Foes I 'le o're a stronger Foe than me I 'le ride in Triumph over Thee Chorus XI Pity all ye Powers above Pity Phoebus Sick of Love Lo his Wreath at once does tell Daphne's Change and Love's Farewelâ— From hence the Custome first arose That Willow-Green baulkt Lovers chose Who Phoebus catch at Love like thee And find their Daphne prove a Tree At least a Ribband Green as she In Black are other Mourners seen The wretched Lover mourns in Green CEPHALUS 's Lamentation for his Wife PROCRIS being ignorantly Slain by him as he was Hunting of wild Beasts WRetch that I am who tho' I know not how A Skillful Murderer from Huntsman grow What Fate my too unerring Dart mis-led To strike my better part my Procris Dead Amongst the Bushes while she lay unseen A well-concealing not desending Skreen I to the Hunter's Virgin-Goddess pray'd And little dreaming any Harm I said May'st thou as I adore thy Sports and Thee Cause that my Darts so many Deaths may be She granted straight and by her Grant did prove A Friend to Hunters but a Foe to Love Here the Effect of my Petitions see Points to the Dead Body Petitions once now Curses are to me See how the Purple Gore defiles the Ground And blusheth for the Author of her Wound See her pale Face true Emblem of my Fear While Death instead of Venus Triumphs there Amazing Sight that does fresh Horrours breed Oh! would she ne're had or had now been hid Unlucky Stars who le Influence Combine That thus her closing Eyes should open mine But why these vain Expressions of my Grief These bring my Sorrows not my Guilt relief I 'le choose a Victim shall my Crime attone Ne're spare the worst part when the best is gone I 'le take the lukewarm Dart my self I 'le slay My cruel self that slew th'unwel come Prey 'T is I alas 't is I my self appear The real Beast I so mis-took in her Assist me Death by thy kind Aid I 'le shew My love to Justice and my Procris due I can't my Guilt and her hard Fate survive For since she 's Dead 't is Death for me to Live Amor Fugitivus or The fled Love Paraphras'd out of Moschus Idyllium the First LEnd all ye Lovers an attentive Ear Love's Goddess calling for her lost-Love hear Has any found my Cupid gone astray The Blind alas can't choose but loose his way He that discovers shall enjoy a Kiss He that produces him a riper Bliss So many Marks about the Boy appear So many Signs which none but he does bear That if to any undiscern'd he be 'T is only such who are as Blind as he Expect no Whiteness in his outward Skin That Snow is melted by the Flames within He like to Fire tho' I from Water came His Skin for want of sparkling Eyes darts Flame His Tongue much Sweetness utters more Deceit His Mind as wicked as his words are sweet One thing he speaks another thinks his Mind No less to others than his Sight is Blind His Speech drops Honey but when prone to Rage In civil Broyls his Love sick Thoughts engage His sharp and dang'rous Weapon is Deceit The Use of which discrectly is to Cheat There Falshood reigns the Truth if ought there be As far from Nakedness as cloathing He. The Crocodilish Youth himself betrays O how when angry Cruel when he Plays His fine curl'd Locks adorn a sawcy Face His Hairs are Golden but his Cheeks are Brass His Hands tho' short can reach as far as Hell His Darts wound ev'n the Dead that therein dwell If you examine throughly you will find His Body only Naked not his Mind Swift as a Bird he flutters here and there In him Men sometimes sometimes Women share And when he does to each himself impart The Perch whereon he Pitches is the Heart Slender his Arrows little is his Bow The Marks they shoot at Hell and Heaven too Like Bitterness inclos'd in Gilded Pill Rank poisnous Shafts his Golden Quiver fill From which even I too oft a Wound receive A deeper Wound than Diomedes gave All things are Cruel all alas the Sun More by this Little borrow'd Heat out-done Than he exceeds his borrow'd Heat the Moon If e're you catch him bind him Hand and Foot And be as Merciless as he to boot Take heed least he thy tender Heart beguile With Feigned Tears or a more Feigned Smile Avoid his Kiss those sweetest Lips despise Under that Honey hidden Poison lies If he his whole Artillery produce Then straight presents it freely to your use No less his Weapons than his Kiss refuse Reject