seems you w'ont But hear me if you please I le but propound a question unto you Why may not you have these and Heav'n too You are a Saint what then Is God unjust Then wicked men alone Earth's Riches must Enjoy Shall God open his Cabinet Of nature and his choisest Riches set Before the Wicked that Blaspheme his Name And only them At least the Saints the same Priviledge may enjoy Nature doth pout To hear you thus make her a prostituâ—eâ— She that has made the Saints her only heires The wicked share not what they have's not theirs The Saints it is They rob the Saints I moan To see your folly Cheated from your own Nay worse To think them hurtful ills and make That bad which God made good and for your sake Would God oâ—'s Handmaid Nature such bright gemms Created haveâ— and with so glorious beams Of Light and Beauty giv'n them for to be Temptations to his Saints Heav'ns Progeny Or rather was it not â—to tyâ—ifie By these the lustre they shall bear on high The end of their Creation then for them 's They then despise God's Gifts who do his Gemms Is th' intellect of Man by which a Man We only from the Bruits distinguish can A wicked thing if wicked I have done And those that think so surely they have none If good then good it must produce this Laceâ— Of Gold this Gown these hoods this brodered case It did find out the Honours Arts and what You see at first invented was by that And more it daily doth invent If these From good proceed why they the Saints displease Why rather did not God make Man a Beast When by his understanding he 's opprest And why doth it still use invention If 't only be for his destruction Review these glitterinâ— things what harm doth there That you despise them thus in them appear They 'r neither Wolves nor Bears nor will they bite That you stand's if you scar'd were aâ— their sight Here take your choyce chuse what you will you may Take Gemms take â—ewels then keep on your Way These are not heavy put them on and see How like an Angel then a Saint will be Bright Alethia all this while stood by Her Beauties hiding from the Pilgrim's eye But now displaying of her splendid beamsâ— Vail'd all the brightnesse of the Mount and Gemms Like 〈◊〉 Tâ—taâ— stepping from a cloud Wherein he did but now his Beauties shroud Her beams bi fac'd Dâ—ceit deâ—ect and shew'd Her double-tongue from whence sâ— ' her venom spew'd But to our Pilgrim from her sacred tongue Where Hibla dwel't these admonitions sprung Seest thou this Hag this Pharmacentria Who with her charmes seeks to oppose thy way To Blisse and to felicity indeed Throughout the World her crafty Magic 's spread And dress'd like me the Worlds vast stage she walks Feigning my voyce and gestures when she talks By her I oft have been abus'd and she By simple hearts admitted is for me An innocent Lamb they judge her by her skin But she a ravening Wolf is found within My words she with her lyes doth mix that so Blended none may th' one from the other know This is the Hag that would your Journey let By this vain mount oâ— Dust which here is setâ— And what 's the World its Riches Honours Pleasuresâ— Compar'd to one grain of Heav'n's better Treasures There 's no comparison that 's fit enough The one AEternal th'oâ—her mortal stuff No joyes no pleasures but they mixed are A grain of them an ounce of Grief and Care And as for Riches vainer than the rest They be by them your trouble is increast Honours and Pleasures Riches in excesse Had you Death spoileth all your happinesse They are fine things indeed for groveling Souls Who dare not rear their Thoughts above the Poles But those that once a tast of Heav'n have had Thinks these things vain and their desires mad This World and what it doth afford esteem The Packthread to bind up the purchas'd Gemm They Heav'n seek first and then the World is given But Crab-like Men Earth first then seek for Heav'n Defie Deccit then let her Hag-ship know Thou scornest all her Treasures here below And that thou bearest such a noble mind To ' count them chaff that flyes before the Wind And at thy feet Earth's honour'd Crowns to spread Whilst to the Heav'n's thou rear'st thy lofty head Heav'n's Road's first pav'd with Pain at last with Blisse Hel's last with Pain at first with Pleasures is Ah! sly Deceâ—t that Heav'n and Earth would joyn When they were sever'd by a Hand divine For who has Earth must Heav'n forego and who Heav'n will enjoy Earth must not cover too Can he be worthy of Heav'ns happinesse That will not Earth leave that he may 't possesse Nor is All-mighty God unjust in that Earth's drosse he to the Saints prohibits Whatâ— Doth he not know what 's best He gives this Law Because he knows how apt the World 's to draw Their minds from their Great God Nor does the stain In Nature's Beauties nor in Earth remain But in Man 's own depraved mind 't is he That turns what 's pure into impurity Man's Intellect not evil is 't is true God did it Good create but yet there 's few But do abuse his Gifts for whilst that they Such uselesse things invent they should display Their understandings in the highest Sphear Far from the reach of Earth Behold they there Should the bright Eye of his Divinity And would they fall from that Sublimity Nature his Book they should have read abound His mighty Wonders there they would have found But 〈◊〉 spreading his most subtle traines With subtilty and Craft hath fill'd the braines Of Man so that his Wit is buâ—ied still In leaving Good to find out Toyes and Ill. Therefore the Saints may well displeased be With what â— ' invents for uselesse vanity Beastly Deceit though Man's Invention Prove oft-times means to his Destruction The Fault 's not God's but wicked thine the Devil And 's self God made it very Good you evil And he must it reduce again e'r he Enjoy can the bright Crowns of Purity Nor are Saints cheated from their own what can In all the Earth be rightly claim'd by Man Is not it all the Lords may not he then As it shall please him give it unto Men Do wicked men possesse the Earth their gain Of that at last shall but augment their pain What if it be the Saints by right shall they If God requires to leave it not obey He doth and knoweth what he does they must Forsake that drosse and unto Heav'n thrust All must be left for Heav'n Hearts must be looâ—'d From Earth therefore Deceit has you abus'd To make you think it is your right to wear Earth's Beauties on your back or to appear So glorious Thou wouldst appear to me More Luciâ—er than Angel for to be How prodigal Deceit
't is not for fear That he to her such reverence doth bearâ— From Love 't is his Obedience springs and that The slavish fears of Hell doth terminate Now all things easie are no Seas can stop Nor Mountains those he swims and these climbs up Now in his breast a strong attraction he Feels draw'ng him up to Heav'n continually Now constant ardors burn within his Breast And flames of Love give rest in his unrestâ— He feels most blest Enthean heats surprize His soul which make 't a living sacrifice A pleasing Tincture th'row his Body flows And like a Flower in Paradise he grows All sorrows now are banish'd down to Hell He nothing doth but Joyes and Raptures feel The Seraphims indite some sacred Song Which they decant by his Hymniferous Tongue And modulating too those heavenly Layes His Harp an Angel by his Fingets playes Under the Covert of the Angels Wings By Love inspir'd aloud this Song he sings Go Gnedian Idols spend your darts On all Luxurious pruriant Hearts A nobler shaft has pierced mine Which flames with Fires more divine You may now shoot but shoot in vain Such â—haâ—ts my Heart shoots back again My eyes your Venom cann't receive Heav'n's Queen a Remedy did give Her Beauty dwelleth in my eyes I therefore you and yours despise Fair Ladies all your Beauties spare For in my eyes they sullied are I Styx see in a Hellens Face Now I have seen a Deitesse You Cyprian Lovers now no more Your beautious Images adore Cease now your fond Idolatry Speak no more Lovers blasphemy Fling in the Fire your wanton Layes Which blushes in chast Cheeks do raise Cease your Encomiums your blisse Meer mortal dust and ashes is A wrinckled Baucis all the while The glory wears of your high Style Let fairer Souls a Godesse please Whilst Bacca's joyn with Thyrsites Had you but seen my heav'nly Bride Youl 'd count all beauties dung beside Aâ—d cease to idolize a Face Where white and red 's the chiefest Grace But my blest Bride SOPHIA is Both Queen of Beauty and of Blisse Her Face shines clearer than the Sun In his bright Chariot at Noon Her Crystalline eyes are the glass In which themselves the Angels dress The Beams that cometh from her eyes Give Light to Heav'n and Paradise Her eares the Seats of Judgements are Immortal Fortitude her hair Her Brows of highest Majesty High Wisdom in her mouth doth lye 'T is by her words the Angels Live Her Breath doth Life immortal give The beaming glory in her cheeks With splendor Heav'ns high Pallace strikeâ— A Diadem her brows do tye Of Blisse and Immortality Her sacred breasts the Fountains be Of Joy and true Felicity Ambâ—osia doth thence proceed The Heav'ly Manna Angels bread Water of Life blest Nectar streams Thence clearer than the Crystal geâ—ms In which as thorow Heaven it slips The Angels drench their Rosie Lips Her armes the Angels do enfold Her Hands immortal Blessings hold Upon her knees doth Pity sit And Goodnesse cloaths her Legs and Fâ—â—t Her Garments are of Light divine Which brighter than the Sun do shine The blew and starry Carpet's spread For her blest Feet upon to tread Whose blessed touches purâ—â—ie The Body of the Crystal Sky Such is my Bride and now who dare With my Bride's beauty theirs compare Sacred SOPHIA 't is in thee I place all my Felicity Blest with thy sight all things below Do very much deformed show I cast my eyes to thee above Ah I am even sick of Love Comfort me with thy fruit divine Stay me with Flagons of thy Wine Ah let me banquet now with thee And spread thy Banners over me Thou art the Rose of Sharâ—n thou A Lily in the Vale doth grow Thou aâ—t more fair than is the Sun Thy Garments smel of Lebanon My eyes unto thy Face I move Ah I am overcome with Love That Fire of Love which flows about My heart whole Seas cannot put out Not the black fear of dreadful Hell To be obedient doth compel Nor now those torments to eschew Enforces me to follow you It is from thee and not from thence That springeth my obedience 'T is Love of thee not Fear of Hell Which me to serve thee doth compel 'T is not Heav'ns blessed Joys that move Or do intice me to this Love It is not Heav'ns high Crown that draws 'T is Love alone a stronger cause Not Heav'ns high Blessings I regard I Love thee not for a Reward Fling me to Hel and if you will Yet will I Love SOPHIA stil. These flames which kindle in my breaâ—â— Shall never out until I rest Within thy bosom and there be Enclosed to AEternity Thus chaunts SOPHIA'S Lover whilst his 〈◊〉 Is warbling forth this Love-inspired Songâ— Love agitates with flames his noble breast And spreadeth there a most delicious feast The Câ—ystal Water turns to blushing Wine There banquets PSYCHE and her Love divine Their meat is Mâ—nnâ— their Wine Nectar is Their Banquets Love and everlasting Blisse Hell never ' frighted him so fast to Heaven Nor ever had Heav'n such attractions given As Love gives now he every day a year Supposes till he doth inhabit where His blest SOPHIA is Nothing can move Him backward now be'ing drawn by force of Love Forwards he runs and to his Love he pray'th That she would make a tryal of his â—aâ—th All difficulties past account he does As nothing and as things meer frivolous Not to be counted hard so high's his Zeal His Faith he longs with his Heart-blood to seal And now he thinks he Aâ—â—as could remove And nothing ' counts impossible with LOVE Sathan indeed this noble Champion In these Love-furies dares not set upon He stands a loof The Pilgrim hasts a pace To gain the end of this Heav'n â—winning Race He be'ing Heav'n's Favourite and that he may Be even lost and swallow'd in a Sea Of divine Pleasures and â—xcessive Blisse APOCALYPSIS she Commission'd is To ope his Sences with her Crystal Key That he aforehand may in Heaven be By her assistance she perform'd it straight And op'd his inner sences five-fold gate No sooner had APOCALYPSIS bright Fingers unlock'd the Gaâ—es of 's inner sight But he th' internal World beholds and there Myriads of Angels in their proper Sphear The Light World sees whose chiefest rarities Display themselves before his inner eyes Tempean pleasures coâ—rt his eyes the Blisse Of Edenean gardenâ— present is All Paradise and whatsoever there Grow'th doth before his inner sight appear The Angels in their glorious Robes of Light Compass'd with splendant Rayes appear in sight And things in Heav'n unutterable he In highest pleasure and content doth see The thick gate of his inner ear unâ—aâ—â—'d No sooner was but he the voyces heard Of the Angelical Core whose sweeter Layes From dunghill Earth to Heav'n his Soul doth raise Th' harmonious sound of Harps his ears doth fill Proceeding from the blest Sâ—onian Hill Which doth his soul with such sweet pleasure smite
hours doth run By three times fifty and sixteen degrees Exceeds the World But who that Planet sees Deems him but smal How far beyond that Star As they account th' Emperial Heav'n's are You may imagine when the space they ' count 'Twixt Earth and the eighth Heav'n to surmount Sev'nteen hundred millions of Miles and more How vast a distance did Steven's eye therefore Behold our Saviour But that eye by which He say no bounds to it can distance pitch Paul's eyes were closed with what eye saw He The Glory then of Heav'n's bright Majesty Peter entranc'd was with what eye Beheld He then the sheet with clean and unclean fill'd And lastly with what Eye and with what Ear did divine Iohn in Patmos see and hear If thus the Eye may Heav'n see also The Body of that Eye may thither go It is not strange to them therefore that are Acquainted with true notions of that Sphear Wherein Iâ—hovâ—h and the Angels be That Man on Earth th' Aeternal Heav'n's may see For such do know how Souls abstracted may Be from their House of impediting clay And that whilst in their Bodies they remain May Heav'n by Faith not only here attain And be conversant in the highest Sphear Abstracted from the World though they dwell here But least because I here so stifly plead You should suppose I have been there indeed I will confess as ' counting it great shame To be accounted better than I am That I not worthy have accounted been O no I cleans'd am not am enough from Sin I am a Pilgrim and do thither wen Strong is my Faith I shall come there Amen! Assur'd I am although a very few Attâ—in whilst here on Earth this Court unto That here on Earth it may attained be Though Flesh and Blood impeed its clarity But you that ask me how I come to know Those things of Heaven which I here do show Since as I do confess I have not been There nor those myst'ries that I speak of seen Pray tell me also then how you come by Your knowledge of a Heav'n beyond the sky Were you e're there Yet confidently you Discribe the place affirm your notion true You 'l tell the Joys of everlasting Blisse Describe the Glory that in Heaven is And will you then if you did never see The place you speak of angry be with me For doing what your selves do daily do You say 't is UP to Heav'n and that is true And is 't not also INTO Heav'n you 'l grant That God's the Centre of all things and sha'nt The Centre which is inmost highest be Or Up or In it is all one to me But this I know that Heav'n and also Hell Though separate in every place do dwell Although as I confess I have not been In Heav'n nor there its spendid glories seen Yet I account it grace enough to be The Praecâ— of his heav'nly Majesty I may the Candle hold and light the way Into the place of everlasting Day I may the Mercury be to guide aright Caelestial Pilgrims with my glimmering sight We may see right unto the Mountain's top And point the way whilst we are getting up Unto our fellow-Travellers that they if faster go they can may see the Way We Joy if by our means aright they move Those that see more may thank us for our Love That upper Globe which you see pourtrai'd there Doth represent the high Eternal Sphear This is the highest Noblest brightest best The Glory Life and Centre of the rest The place of mighty Wonders the divine Seat of the sacred everlasting Trine The habitation of the blessed Saints Where glorious Angels spread their heav'nly Tents Where stands Mount Sion and the glorious Lamb Where is SOPHIA and Ierusalem This is the everlasting place of rest The Heav'n the habitation of the blest This Man may find in the deep Centre and How this through all devolveth understand Here is the spatious glassie Sea and the Crystalline Earth the Ayr of Purity The purest fire which conjoyn'd in one The matter is of the Caelestial Throne Of Everlasting Joyes This place it is The Empyreum and the Seat of Blisse GOD out of Nature Comprehended may Not be a Nothing so to us I say He seemeth but as he Himself doth show In the Eternal Forms of Nature so We apprehend him can The Father then Hath from Eternity begot the Son This Birth 's the Heart of God which ever was And though begot yet 't no beginning has From whence proceeds the sacred Spirit who From both begotten is Eternal too All three distinct in Person yet but One Aeternal GOD in a strict Union This is the Mysterie of the sacred Trine Which in this everlasting Orb doth shine But now the Father with a strong desire Thirsts for the Son from whence springs up a Fire Which Fire not reaching God's most sacred Heart Is full of Anguish Bitternesse and Tart. This is the Fire that inkindleth Hell Where all the damned and the Devils dwell But the same Fire when that sacred LOVE Or Heart of God it self to it doth move Strait blazeth forth into a meek and Bright Joy and desire of Aeternal Light This is the Light of Heav'n and pleasant Joy In which all Blisse is not the least annoy And thus O Reader if thou are not blind Heav'n's Blisse and Joy Hel's pain and torment find Thou wilt to come from one deep Root and even Perceive the true cause both of Hell and Heaven And thus thou seest how they together dwell Hell hid in Heav'n Heav'n in the midst of Hell And yet so great a Gulf between that they In Hell behold not the least glimpâ—e of Day Nor they in Heaven feel the least of wo Their separation's thus Eternal too Though Similies are too too base to shew This Mystery of Mysteries of Mysteries to you But that our weak and duller eyes may see More clear by them think on this Simile Take thou a lighted Tapor put it out The week thou ' lt see with Fire glow thr'owour From whence a stinking vapour and a Fume Displeasing to thy nosethrils fills the room The stinking glowing weik gives little light And the Fire far doth differ from a bright And burning Tapor Light the same and then Thou 'lt see the former darknesse fled agen Thou 'lt see a blaze which from the weik doth rise With a bright splendid Glory 'fore thine eyes Which Blaze without the Fire could not be made The Fire 's without that blaze a deady shade The Heat and Light distinct and several be Though joyntly they do in the blaze agree Nor can the 〈◊〉 without the Heat have being But joyntly in 〈…〉 agreeing They make that Glory brighter than the Gold Which in a lighted Taâ—or we behold But Heav'n's splendrâ—â—â— Light doth not contain Such scorching heat as 〈◊〉 such Lâ—ghâ—â— remain The Application's very 〈◊〉 'T is â—ven Thus 'twixt the Fire of â—ell and Light of
behold The sacred Secrets that the Worlds enfold But if that holy Ray of Light you want You may in darkness sit and ignorant Despise the Knowledge of the Truth divine Rich Pearls unfitting for the snouts of swine Are and unlesse God with a pow'rfull Gale Of Love shall draw aside th' obscuring Vail Their puzling brains dull'd with the Earth below May still ignore those things we plainly show But you whose hearts concentred are in Love Whose eyes withdrawn from Earth are fix'd above Whose minds plac'd on Coelestial Objects free From mortal cares and carnal pleasures be And you who rancour have disâ—el'd your breasts Who shun all fruitless and most vain Contests I here invite accept my homely fare And freely grant your pardon where I err I look for kindnesse from the learn'd and wise But scorn from those that Carp and Criticise The Hieroglâ—phick see my Muse alone Travels in Numbers for to make it known PROAEMIUM ISing no Hero's douty gests in warrs 〈…〉 With glozing prayses Nor unto the Skies Advance some common Justice in a King Nor the dread fury of the Wars I sing Nor with bewitching Layes 〈…〉 The Sacred the base toyes of wanton Love Nor praise the Courtly beauties of the times With Wine-inspired and lascivious Rhithmes With Mâ—rs or Venâ—s doth my Muse coâ—â—oyn◠〈…〉 I Sing fill'd with Eâ—bean â—age the way To Heav'n above and everlasting Joy The vanity of cursed Earth beneath Where we poor helpless Mortals live and breath Th' Eternal horrors of the larger Sphear Where great Beelzebub and his Princes are The constant Joyes and everlasting Bliss Of the light World or blessed Paradise The holy Myst'ries of the Worlds above The lasting pleasures of the Sphears of Love These are the holy subjects of my Song Which doth the quavers of a sweeter Tongue Then mine deserve But yet accept my Will Which better would had I had better Skill The Hieroglyphical FIGURE Of the WORLDS THE EXPLANATION OF AN Hieroglyphical Figure SHEWING THE MYSTERIES OF THE External Internal Eternal WORLDS The first Part. SAd and deplorable's the state of man Whose day 's a vapour and whose life 's a span Whose years a bubble and whose bliss is pain Whose joyes are trouble and whose hopes are vain Should there indeed no other Worlds but this Terrestrial be in which he dwelling is Vain were the hopes of just and righteous men Than they none were more miserable then For who indeed more miserable seem More wretched and despis'd forlorn then them Earth's fat and bounty often is with-held Oft they 're deny'd the riches of the feild A life here poor and needy oft they have And oft return aâ—flicted to the grave Whilst the unjust and wicked man the while Flows with his Hony Butter Milk and Oyl Whilst that his Wine-press gusheth forth a stream Of purple juyce to feed and fatten him Whilst bounteous earth doth plenty him afford Whilst fill'd with pleasures both of bed and bord Unpunisht he afflicts the just and poor And empty turns the begger from his door Grindeth the face of needy men Commits Murthers and Whoredomes yet triumphing sits Till he returneth to the greedy grave And yet is seen no punishment to have Sure this most plainly other Worlds doth shew To be where each of these shall have his due God's alwayes equal ever just we see His acts in number weight and measure be Dives in plenty Lazarus in pain Yet God is just shall in this world remain A world of pain there for the rich man is For Lazarus another full of bliss Let Atheists scoff and seeing these things declare Profanely that no other worlds there are Let them cry pish and mock them to their face Who threat them judgement in another place Let them accurst cry May we live but here In pleasures God nor your vain Hell we fear See we not all men to the grave return Their dusty ashes gather'd in their urn Their flesh consume their harder bones to rot Their fames and names both perish'd and forgot Who like the beasts unto the earth do go Their souls in t ' air dissolv'd are seen no moe Deceit the mother of this folly is To think there 's any other world but this For Sophisters to tye men to their Law Them with Religion and a God did aw And with invented worlds hereafter where They answer should for what they had done here Where good and just men should in pleasures dwell The wicked be perplex'd with torments fell Let Atheists argue thus Let them alone For at the last the worst will be their own When to their sorrow and eternal pain They find the notion of a God 's not vain When they shall find when they this world forego Another world of torment pain and woe I mean not therefore with them to dispute Nor strive with arguments for to confute Their cursed Tenents for the stourest doth Oft' times when scar'd in 's heart misdoubt the truth Of what he holds who by his conscience aw'd Is forced to confess there is a God Who boldly dares deny the same in light The same again doth doubt the same at night When fearfull darkness reigneth o're the world And fear and horror in each corner's hurld When dreadfull lightnings through the world do fly When roaring thunders rattle in the skie When blustring storms do rend the stoutest oakes When mighty mountains rend with thunder strokes When the great Moles of the earth doth quake When roaring seas with dreadfull murmurs speak Th' Almighty's power the Atheist struck with fear Crying aloud for help runs here and there And will he nill he then his thoughts do flie For hepl to and think there 's a Deity Like that poor Godling who ran under bord And cry'd I am no God when thunders roar'd â—f then these wretches doubtfull are sometimes â—o obstinate me thinks they in their crimes Should not be for it that it doubtfull were This way more safe than that it is to err For to believe there is a God and him To fear no damagement can bring to them No hurt at all when on the other side They'n dangerous seas of Death eternal ride For if a God there be as we well know There is into damnation's pit they throw Themselves so whilst their wisdom they 'd expresse They damn themselves by their own foolishnesse But that there is a God we need not prove When all things shew his matchlesse Pow'r and Love For wheresoever we shall cast our eye Sure tokens of a mighty God we spy The glorious Splendor of the Lamp of Day The Mistresse of the Night 's resplendant Ray. The silver Spangles of the azure Skie The winged folk which in the ayr do flie The spangle-coated fishes of the Sea The Brutes the herbs the flowr'rs and every tree Do daily tell us that they being had And life and growth from an immortal God For who but diligently noteth them Must needs as GALEN did confesse the
That she is overwhelm'd with the delight Earth's duller Musick or that of the Sphears â—o this would be discordant in his ears If they mens souls chear with their melody How more exceeding shall Heav'ns Harmony Th' inner AEthmoides being open'd wide Whole clouds of Musk strait th'rough the passage slide Paradysaical Odors the Perfumes Which from the Body of our Saviour comes Presse in sweet Amber-greece perfuming Myrth Which fills the inner World doth enter there Pinks Violets Roses are lesse odorate Than these sweet Odors which assault the Gate The Gust unlock'd the dews of Sion Hill And Paradise upon his Tongue distil The Heav'nly Manna the Caelestial Cates Of Blisse more sweet than Honey fare he eats Nectar glides th'rough his Lips where more sweets reign Than the Hymetian Honey-dews contain Haphe unlock'd the heav'nly touch of Love Like gentle fire over his heart doth move Th' Anoynted's Hand which doth distempers heal Upon him lay'd he sensibly doth feel The Tincture which doth from Christ's Body flow With great delight he feels on his to grow Thus he in his five sences ravish'd is He sees hears smells tasâ—eth and toucheth Bliâ—â—e Ravish'd with the excesse of his delight In Seas of pleasures he 's immerged quite His soul drinks in the sweets too much upon These Cates feeds his Imagination But whilst he banquets at his fuller feast His Angel to him from the Heavens preit Taking Sophia's servant by the Hand His mind by these he let him understand Blest Pilgrim and Sophia's servant thou Must not rest here but farther still must go These are but streams and Rivulets of Blisse Sophia she the only Fountain is Here thou mayst bath thy self but canst not swim Untill thou comest to the Fountains brim There are vast Oceans there thou mayst remain These are but easements for your griefs and pain These are but objects at a distance these Are but refreshments and to give you ease To make thy Way the sweeter till thou art Hid in the Closet of Sophia's Heart Take not thou then too much complacency In these which only but the Conducts be To greater happinesse and do but shew The tythe of Blisse which thou art going to Presse on therefore ' count every thing but â—elf To the enjoyment of Sophia's self Rous'd by his Angel thus the Pilgrim hies And t'wards the perfect mark he faster flies But far he had not gone before he meets An adversary who upon him sets VERTUMNUS 't was lesse constant than the Wind In every shape seeks to disturb the mind A slye Ulysses cunning to deceive Leading to error if you him believe His cloathes were of all sorts of Feathers made With Windinesse and swiftnesse under-laid About his wast hung certain Looking-glasses Which represented strange disguised faces Upon his left arm certain Pictures hung In which those things which to the World belong Were pictured there Beauty was display'd There Castles Forts Rivers and Seas were made There Cities Towns Countreys Villages Wars Battails Peace and such like things as these What e'r Imagination's Pencil cou'd Expresse in lively figures there were shew'd On his right arm Caelestial Pictures hung And whatsomever did to Heav'n belong There pourtray'd was There Angels Seraphims There Thrones there Saints and fieâ—y Cherubims â— There Paradise there Light Stars Suns were seen And all Caelestial Forms and Bodies drawn Accouter'd thus he meets our Pilgrim and To stop his passage stretch'd out his left hand This sight was not like to his other foes No valour this but shifts and cunning knows He is no Champion but o'recomes by guile And e'r his foe thinks on him gives the foil Like to the wicked Pontic Bithiae that Children and Beasts with their looks facinate He doth bewitch skil'd in Cyrcean arts From every Picture he his charmes imparts And whilst they strangely draw our Pilgrim's eyes He in the mean time makes of him a prize Our Pilgrim meeting this fine fellow thought The Weaponlesse could have no mischief wrought He takes great pleasure to behold the charmes Which dangling hung at both his feather'd armes Those Pictures yield content his wandering mind Treads in those Mazes and no end can find Thus he delayes his Journey and this let His hasty Voyage maketh him forget But his good Angel putting him in mind Of 's Journey bid him this Deceiver bind For that he was a Foe and sought to keep Him back by causing him awake to sleep On him he set but a hard task he found This Proteus would not be so quickly bound Stoutly they wrestle but if on his armes He cast his eyes â—e's taken with those charmes He varies shapes and do he what he can No sooner bound but he is loos'd agen A Champion who hath often won the field By Custom knows not how at last to yield Each Conquest adds new Life and courage to His animated Soul and makes him do More than can be hop'd for Our Pilgrim so Oft Victor now will not faint-hearted grow Here Faith assists him and Perseverance Upon his Foes arms doth Ir'n chaines advance At last they bind his left arm when his right He stretched out before the Pilgrim's sight Those heav'nly Pictures now he dotes upon And brave Chimera's in his thoughts do run They 're all Caelestial cryes he who can chuse But on such heav'nly Subjects alwayes muse These are but shadows sayes his Angel thou Unto the very substance must presse to And therefore first of all thou must o'recome 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 IMAGINATION The Pilgrim seeing that he stop'd his Way And longing still SOPHIA to enjoy After much strugling flung him on the ground And with Perseverances chaines him bound This Adversary being cast he bent His course to Paradise and forward went Not far from thence his hasâ—y steps did move Under the shadow of a silent Grove The place was sacred to a Deity Who with still silence would adored be No babling Echo in that Grove did dwell No whistling Blackbiâ—d no sweet Nightingal No Bird at all came near those sacred boughs The grasse nor bleating Sheep nor mowing Cows Did feed no living Creature did that blest Place enter to disturb its quiet rest No â—â—bble chiding-Brook ran murmering there No Wind to move those silent Leaves did dare About the middle of this silent place Pâ—tch'd on a mossie Hill a Couch there was To this the Pilgrim went and gently hurl'd Himself on it As if another World He enter'd had he found himself a rest Seiz'd on his working mind both bad and bestâ— Thoughts banish'd were disturbing fancy or Imagination did not there discur Asleep he was not nor yet did he dream Alive he was but yet he dead did seem His mind work'd not on this nor that but he Rap'd was into a heav'nly Lethargy This is the Silent passive state in which God with his Finger Souls doth often touch This is the sleep of Iacob this the Trance Of Paul when he did to the Heav'ns advance This is the state in which the
gave and said Let this your Standard be to friend and foe This glorious Flag displayed ever show For who wants this let him have what he will The best and chiefest thing he wanteth still For this blest Boon when he his thanks had paid A farther progresse in the Way he made Still stony 't was obstructing blocks still lay At every turn so that the tedious Way Seems every step more troublesome to grow And when the end shall be he doth not know But least he tire Dame Patience whom he met To bear him up her helping hand doth set Stooping she went under the pressing weight Of Crosses which upon her shoulders sat And yet she doth not murmur if you will Lay more she 'l bear the same with Patience still Her feet were gal'd with Travel not an oh Or wry-distorted lip escapes her tho Perch'd on her arm a gnawing Vulture stood Yet she but smil'd to see her Crimson blood Run circling thence her fair-spread forehead where Nor ragâ— nor frowns did ever dare t' appear Was Crown'd with Rocket in her eyes serene Skies in her Face perpetual calmes were seen Three leaves she from her Crown plucks baulmed with The sov'raign Med'cine of her constant breath She to the Pilgrim gav 't this Antidote He takes Impatience is strait forgot And though the Way doth rugged still remain He with a quiet Soul endures the Pain And now unto this rugged way inur'd It seems not difficult to be indur'd Pleasure from labour grows more Joy he has And more it grows the farther he doth passe Rocks seem but pibbles Pibbles scruples show These could at first those cannot hinder now For whatsoe'r opposes in his Way He it with th' humble Earth doth equal lay What sharp at first seem'd now seems sweet Joy grows The farther in this rugged way he goes Which is so pleasing and such Comfort brings That thus its sweetnesse in this Hymn he sings Adonian Gardens I despise These rugged Rocks more please mine eyes This ruder path which leadeth to Jerusalem surpasses you These Thorns and bushes have more power To comfort than your Iuly-flower Your Pinks and Roses bow their heads Unto these rough and stony beds This walk of flints sha'n't come behind Your smooth-rowl'd ones of sifted sand Poor Walks you please the Sence The Mind And Soul of Man here pleasures find The Waters which from Rocks spring here I to your Marble Founts prâ—fer And Nymphs I have which more do please Than your Caerule Naiades Fair Groves of Pines fair Beaches spread Like Canopies to ward my head Christalline brooks sweet Meadows find Green Arbours of sweet Eglantine Walks where the Roses sweetly smell Couches of Musk and Camomill And what some'r you yield I find In the content of mine own mind My soul was pleased once with you But I do find the difference now You to my sence did pleasure yield But here with Ioys my soul is fill'd I by experience now must own This Crosse is better than your Crown O blessed Crosse by thee a Crown Iâ—gain O blessed Way I here find Joyes in pain And now this narrow Path this Rocky Way Is entertained with delight and Joy Pleasures and high content he finds in this And Blisse receiveth in the Way to Blisse Nor Stone nor Rock now in his Way doth sit But he or moves it or crawles over it And what somever Vigilantia spies That may annoy him he o'rcomes or flies But yet the Tempter will not leave but tries And maketh use of all his policies And like Vertumnus puts on every shape Raâ—her than Man his cursed gripes should scape Our Pilgrim now before his watchful eyes A glittering Mountain in the Way espies A Crosse it spread and just as he must passe Both sides the Way by it obstructed was He must take notice of 't for like the Sun It with a bright refâ—lgent Beauty shon Indeed there lay the glories of the East The Earth's choyce Beauties there his eyes did feast Decan had Diamonds sent and Guine gold Peru its silver Pegu thither rould Its Rubies Pearl and 〈◊〉 sent the Seas Tanian Emraulds Byrils Euphrates Onyxes Opals Ind and Arabie Iaspers and Saphyrs Cyprus Cyane What e'r was counted pretious there was found And with exuberance the Mountains Crown'd Next Riches Honours lay by heaps were seen The Robes of State with Purple Crimson green And Tyrian Scarlet lyn'd Promotions To every Gown and every Cap belongs Gay pomp lay next where bombycinian twine The labour of self-pris'ning worms did shine Tincted in various colours cut in shapes And fitted for the various minds in Apes Here Pride his wardrobe had and Lust his shop Where Musk and Amber-greece lay horded up Pleasures and Earth's delights lay also there The Palat's pleasures rarest Cates appear The Brain 's delight Books mounted too on high And what somever objects please his eye And what delight the Earth affords and what Earth's sons could wish were blended here and that With plenty made a massy Mount and spread A crosse the Pâ—lgrim's path To Heav'n its head It reared up and for a while amaz'd The busie Pilgrim who upon it gaz'd But whilst his eyes read Lectures of delight The Mountain seems to travel with a sp'rite And opening at last its gaping womb A twy-fac'd Hag doth from its intraiâ—'s come Her right hand held a Magic Wand with which She pointed to the Mountain and her speech Directed to the gazing Pilgrim thus O Pilgrim Whither travel'st thou Where does These Riches grow the Honors Pleasures Pomps On which he that this vile Way travels stompes Where are they but upon this Earth Behold These â—emms this Silver and this sulpid Gold These Pleasures Honoâ—rs Sâ—lken garments and These Caâ—es that all attend upon thine hand Are not these rare and woâ—ld they not invite A Prince's eye and surâ—et with dâ—light All their Spectators Where dost think there may Be â—ound than these afford a greater Joy Is â—t not pity such things should be lost That of the best and highest pleasures boast Is 't not a crime for â—o desert such Gemms Isn't he a Fool that such things disesteems Vâ—ew but their lustre there 's no other need To speak that doth their woâ—th and value plead Why speak I thus to thee Dost not thou know All these things thou about to leave art now This 〈◊〉 Way leads from the Earth where dwell These Rarities you see and doth excell What ever you may hope to have â—ools that Leave what is certain for they know not what And thou art one thou dost already find An asper-way know'st thou what is behind Had Heav'n desired Pilgrims not the worst Way but the best he would have shewed first Pray view their Beauties once again ar'n't you Quite ravish'd with their lustre Tell me true Nay why such frowns are you displeased then You do mistake me hear me once agen You think I 'de have you Heav'n desert for these It