deceiv'd by Acontius with an Apple I havâ— mention'd Eve's being so deluded by the Serpent Anâ— in several other places I have done the like wherâ— thâ—se fabulous stories came in my way as whoever haâ— the curiosity to enquire may find by comparing thâ— English with the Latine And in all this I think â— have rather done my Author a kindness than an injury But there is another thing for which some of the Aâ—thor's friends may perhaps call me to an account thâ— is for omitting several historical passages taken froâ— the Legend of Saints and Martyrologies And foâ— this I must return in my own behalf that it was noâ— out of any disregard to or prejudice against the Sainâ— and holy persons of whom the account is given nor thâ— I superstitiously disbelieve their stories however somâ— perhaps may with too much superstition credit them buâ— the true reasons of my leaving out the mention of them were these â—irst because I knew that great part oâ— â—e Readers would be strangers to their Histories and â—ust consequently be at a loss in understanding the Poems â—econdly because the truth of the relations is not so eviâ—ent as to render them unquestionable I thought them â—tter left out especially since they are only bare recitals â— such passages without any improvement of Fancy or â—ckiness of Thought upon them which could not injure â—e Book by being omitted whereas the inserting that â—art might prejudice some nice judgments against the â—hole And which was my third reason might be a â—inderance to the Impression But however they may censure me for this I hope â—ey will not take it ill that I have left out the Satyriâ—l part of the second Poem of the first Book wherein â—e Author reflects on the Monks and Fryars in their â—ariety of Habits and contests about them for indeed â— thought it something too uncharitable to have any room â— so Divine a Poem And now I am apologizing for â—missions let me not forget to acquaint the Reader that â— have left out some of the Author's sense particularly â— the eighth Poem of the second Book and in the second â—oem of the third Book In the first of which he recounts â—ll the several sorts of Perfumes he can think of and in â—he latter makes a long recital of the various kinds of Flowers both which rather tire than delight the Reaâ—er and he must be unkind if he does not thank me for â—mitting them But still it may be objected against me â—hat I have made bold with my Author in varying â—rom him and sometimes adding to him 'T is true I â—ave done both as in the third Poem of the first Book â—or instance where instead of mentioning Podalirius and Melampus and the other Physicians I have uâ— ten lines of my own and in the fifth Poem of the saâ— Book I have given an account of Mans Creation soâ—thing different from that in my Author both which all the other variations and additions may be known the English Reader by their being printed in the Italiâ— Character But whether I have impair'd the senâ— whether done for the better or the worse I must subâ— my self to the judgment of the Learned whose pardoâ— must beg for whatever is amiss and particularly if â— any thing I have injur'd the worthy Author to whom I aâ— willing to make all the reparation I am able And if â— have injur'd him in other additions I have done him â— kindness in that in the tenth Poem of the third Booâ— where he seems to apologize for Self-murther for whâ— I have there added takes away all possibility of mistakiâ— him who I am confident was too good a Christian â— design any thing of that kind and we find he sufficientâ— condemn'd all such attempts by this Verse O quoties quaesita fugae fuit ansa pudendae which I have render'd How oft' wou'd I attempt a shameful flight where the epithet he gives to slight proves that he haâ— no good opinion of it And this gives me the hint to sâ— something of his wishing for death in the eighth Poeâ— of the same Book which is not any way meant in favoâ— of Self-murther but a pious desire of the Soul to be freâ— from the captivity of the body that it might enjoy iâ— Saviour which is no more than what St. Paul tells â— of himself that he had a desire to be dissolved anâ— to be with Christ More might be urg'd in behalf of â— Author on this account but that he needs no apology â— shall have enough to do to excuse my self for 't is not â—mprobable I shall be accus'd of an indecorum as to Chroâ—ology in bringing in the glorious Saint Martyr King Charles I. with our late and present Monarchs for exâ—mples of the misfortune that oftentimes attends the â—reatest and best of men instead of Menelaus and Dioâ—ysius but I desire the Reader to give me leave to â—form him that I design my Translation to represent â—e Book as if but now first written and where then â—uld I produce more apt examples of the instability of â—ortune and the sufferings of good men than those â—rinces were whose Unhappiness like their Excellenâ—es had no parallel I am sure They must be more suâ—ble than Dionysius whose tyranny made him unpitied â— his misery And having told my Reader my design â— hope he will not blame me for changing the 7th of May which I suppose was my Author's Birth-day to the 7th of July which was my own and applying to my â—lf all that part of the eighth Poem in the third Book â—nd then I am confident I shall not be condemn'd on any and for that digression in the fourteenth Poem of the â—me Book wherein I conceive the joyful reception of his â—te Majesty's Soul in Heaven and the great satisfactiâ— which his present Majesty's succession to the Crown â—ought to those Coelestial Spirits who being lovers of â—ight and Equity must be exceedingly pleas'd to have â—s undoubted Title take place for that they are affectâ— with some transactions here below is evident from â—r Saviour's words that there is joy in Heaven â—ong the Angels over sinners that repent and â—hy not then over the Just that are rewarded I would not willingly tire my Reader with a long Pâ—face and therefore shall only add a word or two in behâ— both of my Author and my self 'T is true the Title-pâ— in the Latine declares him of the Society of Jesus â— his Book shews nothing either of his Order or particuâ— Opinion in Religion but that he is an excellent Christâ— in the main And indeed he seems to me to have desigâ—edly avoided all occasion of offence to his Readers of â— different judgment for tho in the fourteenth Poem of â— first Book he had a fair opportunity of mentioning Pâ—gatory he wholly declines it and takes no notice at â— of such a place And in the twelfth Poem of the thâ— Book he says nothing of
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
Their wandring paths forbid till try'd to know Maeander's stream a streighter motion steers Tho with himself the wand'rer interferes Not the sictitious Labyrinth of old Did in more dubious paths its guests infold Here greater difficulties stay my feeâ— And on each road I thwarting dangers meet Nor I the diff'rent windings only fear In which the Artist's skill did most appear But more to heighten and increase my dread Darkness involves each gloomy step I tread No friendly tracks my wandring footsteps guidâ— Nor previous feet th'untrodden ground have try'â— And tho lest on some fatal Rock I stray With out-stretch'd arms I grope my dusky way Yet dare I not ev'n with their help proceed But night and horror stop my trembling feet Like a strange Trav'ller by the Sun forsook And in a road unknown by night o'retook In whose lone paths no neighb'ring Swains reside No friendly Star appears to be his guide No sign or track by human footsteps worn But solitary all and all forlorn He knows not but each blindfold step he tread To some wild Desart or fierce River leads Then his exalted voice does loudly strain In hope of answer from some neighb'ring Swain Still still he calls but still alas in vain Only faint Ecchoes answer him again Oh! who will help a wretch thus gone astray What friendly Cynosure direct my way A signal Cloud conducted Israels flight By day their cov'ring and their guide by night The Eastern-Kings found Bethlem too from far Led by the shining conduct of a Star Nor cou'd they in their tedious journey err Who had so bright a fellow-traveller Be thou no less propitious Lord to me Since all my bus'ness is to worship Thee See how the wandring Croud mistake their way And tost about by their own error stray This tumbles headlong from an unseen Hill That lights on a blind path and wanders still This with more haste than speed goes stumbling on That moves no faster than a Snail might run While to and fro another hasts in vain No sooner in the right than out again Here one walks on alone whose boasted skill â—nvites another to attend him still Till among Thorns or miry Pools they tread This by his guide That by himself misled Here one in a perpetual Circle moves While there another in a Lab'rinth roves And when he thinks his weary ramble done He finds alas he has but just begun Thus still the wandring Multitude does stray Scarce one of thousands keeps or finds the way Oh! that my paths were all chalk'd out by Thâ—â— From the deceits of baneful error free Till all my motion like a Dart's became Swift as its flight unerring as its aim That where thy Laws require me to obey I may not loiter nor mistake the way Then be Thou Lord the Bowe thy Law the White And I the Arrow destin'd for the flight And when thou' rt pleas'd to shew thy greatest skill Let Me dear God be thy choice Arrow still Aug Soliloq cap. 4. O Lord who art the Light the Way the Truth and the Life in whom there is no Darkness Error Vanity nor Death Say the word O Lord let there be Light that I may see the Light and shun the Darkness that I may find the right way and avoid the wrong that I may follow Truth and fly from Vanity that I may obtain Life and escape Death O hold thou up my goings in thy paths that my footsteps slipp not Psal. 17. 5. III. O hold thou up my goings in thy paths that my footsteps slip not Psal 17. 5. WHat will my faithless feet deceive me more And make false steps upon the even floor Thou who from Heav'n my motion dost approve Grant me such strength that I may firmly move The Eagles teach their unfledg'd young to fly Practis'd in towring tow'rd the lofty Sky â—ill the apt brood by bold example led â—erform the daring flight they us'd to dread â—hus Boys when first th' unusual stream they try With spungy Cork their weighty bodies buoy â—ill more improv'd they their first help disown â—mbitious now t' attempt the flood alone And thus by practice such perfection gain To sport and wanton safely in the Main Thou who from Heav'n observ'st our steps beloâ— See by what arts thy Servant learns to go While all my weight on this slight Engine 's laid I move the Wheels that do my motion aid Thus feeble age supported by a Cane Is tir'd with that on which 't is forc'd to lean Mistake not Lord th'ambiguous terms I use For of no failure I my feet accuse I can perceive no imperfection there No rocky ways or thorny roads they fear The weakness of my mind disturbs me most Whose languid feet have all their motion lost All its affections lame and bedrid are Those feet alas which shou'd its motion steer When it shou'd move in Virtues easie road Alas 't is tir'd as soon as got abroad Sometimes but rarely it renews the race And eagerly moves on a Jehu 's pace But weary of its journey scarce begun Its boasted flame is all extinct as soon As a faint Lamp by the rude North-wind blown Yet lest I shou'd too much my sloth betray I force my steps and make some little way But then am cautious not to be expos'd Lest I be thought too plentifully dos'd My reeling steps move an indented pace As 't were a Cripple hopping o're a race I will I won't I burn all in a breath And that 's scarce out e're I 'm as cold as death And then impatient at my fruitless pain Tir'd in the mid-way I go back again Yet cannot then recover my first place The pleasant seat whence I began my race Tost like a Ship on the tempestuous waves Which neither help of Sails nor rowing saves While with new vain attempts I try again And would repair the loss I did sustain The small success too manifestly proves My fruitless labor in a circle moves Thus Slaves condemn'd to ply a toilsom Mill Repeat the same returning motion still Tho still the restless Engine 's hurry'd round They by its haste gain not one foot of ground What shall I do a stranger to the race Whose lazy feet scarce move an Asses pace Heav'n lies remote from this mean Globe below None but the swift and strong can thither go What then shall this my slow-wheel'd Chariot do Thou Lord mov'st nimbly o're the rugged way Thy Gyant-feet are balk'd by no delay Thou with a step dost East and West divide And o're the world like a Colossus stride But with a Tortoice-motion I proceed Or rather like the Crab am retrograde How can I then hope to that Goal to run Which 't is the bus'ness of my life to shun But do thou Lord my trembling feet sustain Then I the Race and the Reward shall gain Amb. de fuga saeculi cap. 1. â—ho among so many troubles of the body among so many allurements of the world can keep a safe and unerring
I speak in Pray'rs And he in absence charms my listning ears So by the Loadstones unseen wondrous force The faithful Needle steers the Seamans course Tow'rds its lov'd North it constantly doth rise Helping their way to their extreme surprize So does the Flow'r of Phoebus twice a day Turn tow'rds her Sun and her glad leaves display Fair Cynthia thus regards her Brother's beams Renews her Beauty from his borrow'd flames I am thy Clytie Spouse thou art my Sun I Cynthia always tow'rds thy light must run My Spouse my Helice with longing I Where-e're thou draw'st tow'rds thee in raptures flie What wonder if in mutual Love We burn Since Steel can tow'rds the senseless Loadstone turn Bernard Medit. cap. 9. My heart passes thro many things seeking about where it may take its rest but finds nothing that pleases it till it returns to God My Soul melted as my Beloved Spoke Cant. 5. 6. V. My Soul melted as my Beloved spoke Cant. 5. 6. WHat Hills what Rocks what Desarts have I trod Only for one short view of Thee my God! How for one word from those dear lips of Thine My feet a tiresom Pilgrimage injoyn'd O're craggy Rocks of such stupendious height â—h'ascent does ev'n the climbing Deer afright â—t cannot my unwearied haste delay â—â— mighty Love conducts me all the way â—ho from these heights I all things else descry â—he dear-lov'd Object shuns my longing eye Distracted then thro ev'ry Den I rave Search each Recess and visit ev'ry Cave In vain alas those devious paths I wear I only find thou art a stranger there Sometimes into the open Plain I rove But there am lost in Error as in Love Tow'rds Heav'n I look and thro the Fields coâ—plain But both unkindly answer not again Wandring from thence I find a shady Vale There on my Love but oh in vain I call Not far from hence a close thick Covert grows Where panting Beasts fly for a cool repose Here here said I my Love is laid to rest But oh no sign of Thee was here imprest Then stung with passion and o're-whelm'd â— grief I court the shoar and thence expect relief Here a high Tow'r exalts its lofty head By whose kind light the wandring Seaman's led Here I ascend and view the Ocean round While my complaints o're all the shoar resound â—ell me you Shoars you Seas and tell me true â— not my Love conceal'd in some of You â—â— to each other you wou'd constant be â—iscover and be just to Love and me â—carce had the shoar receiv'd the mournful noise â—hen it return'd a loud redoubled voice â—ut that some sporting Eccho I believe â—â—at fools the wretch'd and dallies with their grief â—gain the shoar I rend the shoar does hear â—nd the kind voice again salutes my ear â— voice a well-known voice 't was Thine my Life â—hose pleasing accents soon dispell'd my grief â—ow I reviv'd One such immortal breath â—d pow'r enough to rescue me from death â—y voice like Lightning unperceiv'd unfelt â— a strange inffence does th' affections melt â— thy Disciples hearts were fir'd within â—en on the way thou didst discourse begin â—e secret charms of Thy prevailing voice â—us'd unaccountable yet mighty Joys â—as the same heav'nly sound that answer'd me â—d all dissolv'd me into Extasie That kindled such a fire within my Soul Whose ardent heat an Ocean cannot cool See how my melting passions drop and run Like Virgin-wax before the scorching Sun O might I be so blest to mix with Thee Our Life the same the same our Love shou'd â—e Aug. Solil cap. 34. What is this that I feel what fire is it that warms my heart what light is it that enlightens it O thou fire which always burnest and art never extinguished do thou inflame me Whom have I in Heaven but thee and there is none upon Earth that I desire in Comparison of thee Psal. 73. 24. VI. â—hom have I in Heaven but Thee and there is none upon Earth that I desire in comparison of Thee Psal 73. 24. WHat shall I seek great God in Heav'n above The Earth or Sea whereon to fix my love â—o I shou'd ransack Heav'n the Earth and Sea â—l they can boast is nothing without Thee I know what mighty Joys in Heav'n abound â—hat Treasures in the Earth and Sea are found â—et without Thee my Love t' enrich their store â—l all their glories are but mean and poor â— Heav'n O Earth O vast capacious Main â—ree famous Realms where Wealth and Plenty reign â—o in one heap your triple pleasures lay â—ey were no pleasures were my Love away My thoughts I own have often rang'd the Deep Search'd Earth and Heav'n and in no bounds wou'â— keep But when they rambled the Creation round No equal Object in the Whole they found Sometimes I thought to rip the pregnant Earth And give its rich and long-born burthen birth Gold Silver Brass seeds of the shining vein And each bright product of the fertile Mine For these we dig and tear our Mothers Womb Till for our boundless Treasures we want room To what advantage Tho o're-charg'd with Gold Your bursting Coffers can't their burthen hold Yet this can ne're your troubled mind appease Nor buy your sorrows ev'n a minutes ease Here disappointed to the Deep I go Whose low recesses the scorch'd Indians know Pleas'd with its Gemmy store my self to load I dive and visit its conceal'd abode Then the scarce Burret seek whose bloods rich dyâ— Is the great Ornament of Majesty Then scatter'd Pearls I gather on the shoar Where rich Hydaspes casts his shining store Alas these Jewels brought from several Coasts All that each River or the Ocean boasts The Saphyr Jasper and the Chrysolite Can't quench my thirst or stay my appetite Then since the Earth and Sea content deny Heav'ns lofty Fabrick I resolve to try With wonder I the vast Machine survey With glorious Stars all studded bright and gay Amaz'd their still unalter'd course I view And how their daily motion they renew But among all the Pensile-fires above None warm'd my breast none rais'd my Soul to love But I beheld at distance from below Then farewell Earth up to their Orbs I go Now less'ning Cities leave my distant sight And now the Earths whole Globe is vanish'd quite Above the Sun and Planets I am born And their inferior Influences scorn Now the bright pavement of the Stars I tread Once the high cov'ring of my humble head Now o're the lofty flaming Wall I flie And Heav'ns bright Court lies open to my eye Now curious Crowds of the wing'd Choir above Tow'rds the new guest with dazling splendor movâ— Hymns well compos'd to Airs Divine they sing New tune their Harps and scrue up ev'ry string Then in brisk Notes triumphant Anthems play While Heav'n resounds as if 't were Holy-day O glorious Mansions fill'd with shining fires O Courts fit only for your Starry Choirs My ravish'd Soul 's in strange amazement lost Sure no