Sin Reason dethrones its self Sense without fear Usurps the Throne wild Passions domineer The Will yields freely her Imperial right To the tyrannic Lusts of Appetite O Chaos of Confusion whence such Pride Do Masters lacquey whilst their servants ride And Kings make up their subjects humble Train Of captive Vassals to confirm their Reign Awake the Earth's great Monarch will he have Ought but the Title of a Royal Slave Let him be King of and in Man to none Subject but his great Lords Eternal Throne Of whom he holds his Diadem in Fee By whom Kings reign and Princes do decree Knock off his Chains let him to purpose know Himself the rightful Lord of all below So shall the people of the Air Sea Field Pay humble Homage and due Tribute yied For hold they not of thee their breath and lives From whom mans Throne its Origine derives Their eyes wait all on thee thy copious hand Fills all their mouths with good by sea and land Thou giv'st them meat in season they rejoice To gather it when thou conceal'st thy voice They mourn in silence when thou hid'st thy Face Their beauty falls and all their goodly Grace When thou withdraw'st thy breath their spirits flye And they resolved into ashes dye And should thy Pow'r one moment but suspend Its act whole Nature makes a sudden end Heaven and distant Earth would soon come near Each Star drop down from its transparent sphere The Moon would cease to yield her various light And Sun himself be darkned into night The Fire for want of heat would chill to death The Air breathe out its last in one groans breath Mountains would skip away like frighted Rams And all the little Hills like fearful Lambs VVater and Earth would be again commixt As when no order was in Nature fixt The Elements confus'd in one rude Mass Yes all would swift into prime Nothing pass Nor were it hard that then thou should'st renew This ruin'd Theatre to publick view VVhose Word could in a thought bring on the stage The peaceful worlds most happy Golden Age Thy Majesty in all thy works renown'd Beyond all time sends an amazing sound How when he frowns the earth distracted shakes As with a strong Convulsion groans and quakes And rends with grief at what his fury can To unrelenting Rocky-hearted man The smitten Mountains smoak belch out and burn As if they would all into embers turn But what art thou fierce Aetna which dost raise VVith flaming Rivers the Cicilian Seas To them which the consuming fire did rain On Sodom's and Gomorrah's sinful Plain And they but puny sparks to that great lake Of Flames prepared for the damned's sake There burn yet never burnt the godless sp'rits Of evil men and Angels which the lights Of Nature Grace and Glory would despise Beyond redress with bold contemptuous eyes But we whilst being lasts Immortal King VVill thy great Names exalted Praises sing VVe thy Delight and thou our Joy shalt be In us thy Glory and our Bliss in thee Glory to God the Father Son and Sp'rit One boundless Fountain of Eternal Light As ever 't was before all time begun So is and ever shall when time is done The End of the Second Part. OF GOD IN THE CREATURE PART III. THus sung these Nymphs but as the clearest day Is not without some passing Clouds so may And often doth the most Celestial Mind This side the Moon molesting passions find Passions in bounds moving to proper ends Commence not Rebels but are Reasons Friends Friends to Devotion what diviner proves Than holy raging holy mourning loves Such mudless Floods fill'd and all day opprest The holy God-mans unpolluted breast Stoicks are stocks or else 'twixt them and Gods 'T is hard to find out any real odds No They 'r above by their grave Senate's voice God's calm by Nature they by gen'rous choice Egregious Pride vaunt men an Apathy Not found in Angels Immortality They joy when we do well then no doubt weep To see us buri'd in Lethargick sleep So these dear Twins from joy to sorrow turn To think how Vice triumphs and Vertues mourn Some whiles a profound silence occupies Their lips and looks then tears flow from their eyes PHILARETE speaks At length Philarete alas our age Exil'd from Converse to a Hermitage Good God! why might not vertue sometimes fear An Inter-Regnum of thy Royal Care Seeing her vanquisht self so trodden down And her proud Rival circl'd with a Crown THEOPHOBE To say the world in a blind Atom-dance Stumbled into its beauteous form by chance More Phrenzy speaks than that without a hand Sweet David's Psalter should be writ in Sand Nor is it less to think 't is left to lye Without its Makers over-ruling eye Rich Sheba's Queen without sight or report Of the wise Jew might see him in his Court Such Beauty shows the Lord's Magnificence Its constancy his watchful Providence When Nature in a Sea floats there and here There needs some constant Pilot at the Steer PHILARETE All this is plain but that a special eye Is fixt on men dumbs all Philosophy 'T would rather speak a Goddess Fortune blind To raise the base depress the noble mind THEOPHOBE Philosophy must grant that active love Which on the dark Abyss did gently move To hatch the World and now with tender wings Kindly protects the Universe of things Leaves not their Lord Compendium of them all For making whom it did a Council call Of the most wise Three-One a clear presage Of some dear Offspring in its own Image This were to null the Laws of all wise Love And make it like the cruel Ostrich prove Whose Iron Bowels leave her harmless Egg To wait the crush of every chancing Leg And yet indeed Philosophy can't sound The depths of Providence which know no ground Much more exceeding shallow humane brain Than shells fall short of the unfathom'd Main Shall men explode a Being without end Because no finite can it comprehend Question the Ocean too you may as well Because you cannot hold it in a Shell Question a real Sun you may as soon Because not to be lanthorn'd at high-noon This knew the ancient Hero's and the more For adverse fate did meekly this adore Making their Reason when they saw it fail In these great deeps to strike to Faith the sail By Fortunes looks 't was never understood How to discern the vicious from the good For that bright Saint the man of Gods own Heart Had both of smiles and of her frowns his part PHILARETE Yet they complain'd their Faith fail'd to behold Vertue in rags and Vice in vests of Gold Yes famous singers of the inspired Quire Not with a common but Seraphick Fire THEOPHOBE Their Faith recoil'd yet trembling till it whole Return'd like Magnet-needles to the Pole It shook not fell as by a strong surprize The Fort of Life and Spirit swoons not dies Such conflicts Sister bring forth happy fruits As well-set Trees by storms get firmer
round Their Summer Tables on a Florid ground So all thy Trees good Lord declare the same Great Honour of-thy Celebrated Name Thy Name which all were Graven on their barks And if we look within they all are Arks Carrying a wonder-working God without All art of man repleat with sap they sprout They spread and Flourish till they grow so high To threaten with their tops the starry sky What Cedars Crown proud Lebanus thy Land So Planted there dread Lord by thy Right Hand That from less than a shrub a num'rous race Of sweet-wood Turrets should adorn one place Nor are they all for Palaces and thine Own sacred Temples Majesty Divine But for less than half-farthing Birds to nest Themselves taught by thy Wisdom where is best For their dear safety from ill Vermin's hurt So is the Fir the Stork 's exalted for t The Wild Goats save themselves by speedy flight To craggy Mountains from the Hunters sight As tim'rous Conies by good Providence Find clifted Rocks for Houses of defence Thus all whom no projecting reason arms Well Bulwark'd Nature guards and saves from harms Nor are apt times forgot for getting Food The Hunter sleeps they seek their Livelihood For as the pale Moon by her various Reign Of seasons constitutes a constant Train Months Feasts so knows the Sun both time and place When where to rise when where to hide his Face From East he rides still o're the Western Seas To give good Morrow to th' Antipodees Deputing Moon and Stars by his lent Light To give the upper Hemisphere good Night The shades fall greater from the tops of Hills And smoak of Cottages the Country fills Whose painful Swains refresh'd with honest meat That day acquired by their foreheads sweat On strawy Pillows lye more truly blest VVith Jacob's Visions and sweet-dreaming rest Than mighty Kings who lay their busie heads In Tyrian Curtains on rich Downy Beds And now 's the time when one black fleece of Night Sometimes but strip't with strakes of twinkling Light To humane Eyes solicites grateful sleep And draws the Woods inhabitants to creep Out from their secret places to appease Their hunger's spurs impatient of delays The Royal Lions Whelps roar on their way And seek of thee great God of might their prey As Infants with strong importunities Implore their Mothers tender Ears and Eyes Their robust Nerves their swift pursuit prevent And fiery temper their sagacious Sent But oh wise Providence how that supplies What their own natures exigence denies Are not observant Jackales still at hand To Hunt what their fierce Appetites demand Nor dares the Prey when found these Princes fly They Thunder-strike it dead with fear to die Whose stomacks satisfi'd still some remains Reward their Sedulous Purveyor's pains Thus all night long they Triumph in the Field And Civil States to Savage Licence yield But when the Morning's Herauld with a cry Proclaims fair Phosphorus approacheth nigh To Usher in the Sun which now draws near To guild the Suburbs of the Hemisphere They haste away to hide their fearful heads And lay them down together in their Beds The shades all vanish at Aurora's blush And thankful Birds break off the profound hush Of silent darkness as they then begin Their Morning Song to the Celestial King Man with new Vigour goes forth to his work VVhil'st the disturbers of his quiet lurk In sleeping Dens until the Evening Star Proclaims cessation to his toil so far No farther is thy foreheads sweat decreed Let welcome rest and kind sweet-sleep succeed Renew exhausted Sp'rits thus day and night To man and beast by turns bring fresh delight O Lord how manifold are thy great acts VVhat wisdom shines in all thy noble facts Thy matchless Riches in vast pomp possess The utmost Limits of Earth's Universe So of thy restless Sea whose spacious hands VVith wide Embraces circle all the Lands There Various Kinds of swimming Creatures Live Both great and small which mighty wonders give Of something more Unfathom'd than that deep VVhere some move swift some with slow motion creep There dwells that proud Leviathan which plays VVith Fishes Ships Sands Rocks with winds and Seas Sporting all other Empire to Disdain But thine and mans as Subject to thy Reign VVho mad'st both it to Triumph over them And man Vice-roy to Lord it over him In wooden Castles wing'd with suited winds Out of thy Treasures how he flies and finds A passage to all Lands through Seas No rest Till he returns fraught with the East and West When thou good God! command'st the Storm to rise On swelling Floods he mounts up to the Skies Then with what grisly horror who can tell Descends down quick into the Jaws of Hell He reels and staggers like one drunk now tost From post to stem then back from stem to post No observation of glad Sun or Stars Nor hears he ought but winds and waves in VVars Except contending thunder to out-vie The Dog-mad rage of their tempestuous cry VVhat shall he do distressed Soul Because His melting Heart like breaking waters flows He cries to God who lays the storm to sleep And bids that Mountain Seas do humbly creep The Heaven is Unmant'led looks serene And joyful head-lands come in ken again So from Deaths Gulf he in triumphing sort VVith Flags Display'd spins in the wished Port. O that they would dread God! thy wonders teach And through the world thy Immense goodness preach To man to man whose nature seems to vye VVith Glorious Angels for Nobility His High-Born Soul from Unborn God descent O his delight and sweetest Ornament Disdains the pettish frowns of Austere Fate And overlooks in Triumph Mortal State Soar's far above the Fun'ral pile on high With Eagles wings up to Eternity To live when Nature and when Death shall die Nor did her house eclipse the happiness And Grandeur of its honourable Guess Its form spoke at first sight it did inshrine Something at least by Parentage divine Above the force of a material vein Unapt but for a gross ignoble strain Whilst other creatures look'd towards the ground Man only with an upright face was found VVhich his great Maker will'd to lift intent Up to the Stars the place of his descent By a fifth Muscle which in none we find But in mans eye for upward looks design'd But how that fair Soul in the Mire now lies VVhich clogs her Eagle-wings and soils her eyes With noisome steams that like an earth-bred mole Sadly degenerateâ— tho not in whole She badly mounts much less sustains the sight Without regret of any thing that 's bright How is the mighty fallen Noble Soul Not by a fortun'd but a chosen fall First from thy being's fundamental Law A Transcript of th' Eternal without Flaw Then from the Stars down to the lowest rate Of bruitish life with thy corporeal Mate Chang'd from a Temple to a noisome Sty Of languid sloth and vile impurity The Divine Image lies intomb'd within A living Carkass walking Grave of
Then 'gins great Jubile whose welcom ease Gains from past pains an Emphasis of praise For think to whom sweet rest so grateful can Appear as to the weary labouring man What Tears remain shall be as Orient Gems To beautifie your sacred Diadems And memory of grief not to alloy But sublimate the spirits of your Joy Thus blackish Moles prove Beauty-Spots to grace Not to deform true Vertues God-like Face But ah true Vertue Lord is far from me I know but serve not thy blest Deity What shall I do I want due strength not will Do thou Great Might my bruitish Passions kill My sins grow daily stronger and are more Than all the Sands by Seas washt on the Shore Fain would I mourn Blest Wisdom teach me how But not how much for I can ne'r enow First give me pious tears then Living Vine Turn turn those tears into Immortal Wine Which nobled with thy Blood All-Righteousness Who trod'st alone the overflowing Press May glad not only my poor heart but all The mighty States of Heavens great White-hall The blest Three One will take what sweet content When they behold their mourning Penitent My Great Creator welcome new-made Son My Dear Redeemer what my Blood hath done My Holy Comforter let me embrace My Precious Convert and augment his Grace Refreshing him with shades of Dovy wings And then each Pole with Peals of Anthems rings From good-will'd Angels who much more rejoice For one that mourns than Ninety nine so choice As not to know they need a mournful voice O Joyful Grief O mourning Festival Preparing Virgins for the Bridegrooms call Come panting hearts come to consummate bliss I 'le you caress with an Eternal Kiss Put off your sable Weeds on Robes all white Becoming best the Lambs blest Nuptial Light Whose Beauty you shall find much much more bright When you compare it with your former Night A Night whose shades deceasing soon as born Give place to Joys most perfect Mid-day Morn Fresh still as Infancy as Manhood Strong New as each Instant yet as Ever long THE Epiologue or Corollary from all the Premises in opposition to the principal Tenent of the Garden that is of Epicurus and his Followers who Phylosophized anciently in a Garden viz. Their Opinion of no over-ruling Providence as being utterly destructive of the Happiness and highly derogatory to the Majesty of a God to stoop to and interfere with the care of any sub-Celestial and especially Terrestrial Affairs Which Doctrine their Philosophical Poet sings in these Verses Omnis enim per se divum natura necesse'st Immortali aevo summa cum pace fruatur Semota ab nostris rebus sejunctaque longe Nam privata dolore omni privata periclis Ipsa suis pollens opibus nihil indiga nostri Nec bene per meritus capitur nec tangitur ira Lucret. lib. 1. Which the Oxford Swan hath thus excellently taught English For whatsoe're's divine must live in Peace In undisturb'd and everlasting ease Not care for us from fears and dangers free Sufficient to its own felicity Nought here below nought in our power it needs Ne're smiles at good nor frowns at wicked deeds Mr. Creech in his Elevation of Lucretius THen sing live Lute that whatsoe're's divine Is not as fanci'd by the Garden Swine Men who to Fortunes chances all ascribe And think the world no Masters hand doth guide But Nature rolls the rounds of Day and Year And so they touch all Altars without fear What 's God of all below must careless be Not Saints from Friends not Fogs from Incense Diseern not praising from blaspheming tongue Ne're shine on right nor storm at impious wrongs As if it were abasing to a God To cast one glance on a terrene abode As if good God! Supreme felicity Did wholly in a lazy posture lye And to thy bliss it needs disturbance brings To intermeddle with the care of things Chiefly of that which from mean Seed begins O bruits that shape a God out of the vain Ideas of their own distempered brain And suited to their vicious natures strain Shall we supiness and an idle state Make Gods chief bliss which good men scorn and hate Esteeming it the Glory of great Kings VVith guardiant eyes to shield the shrubs of things Gods Bliss to whose unlimitable quick eye All things are present and all naked lye So that without discourse which labour brings He comprehends the perfect rule of things Gods bliss the beck of whose Almighty Hand VVhole Natures force nay Nothing can't withstand But into Something springs at his command To whom to make more Worlds is easier found Than to take up an Acorn from the Ground To all the Garden Swine Since then the ' ternal Pow'r can live in Peace Yet foster all and rule with perfect ease Nor in the least his Grandeur thus displease VVhy murmur ye that ye his Goodness find To you more than you to your own selves kind Ungrateful Swine Go herd your selves and run With one fowl Mouth to grunt against the Sun For humbling his high Heav'nly self so low As with warm Beams to make your Pastures flow And talk no more that Heaven nothing needs To banish quite from Earth Religious deeds As if a Peasant should not Homage pay Of Grateful Honours to his Prince and say I humbly thank my Gracious Lord the King From whom to me such Bounties daily Spring Because the mighty Monarch needs no Clown To grace with thanks the Jewels of his Crown True the Almighty Kings Imperial Bliss Plac'd in his Self 's high Contemplation is The Mirror and great Architype of all That solid reason Great and Good can call That not all Hymns from Men and Angels sent His Native Bliss and Glory can Augment As much as one poor spark bound upwards may Augment the Brightness of an August day Why then should this most blisful One Create The World and still with care ore rule its State Ask why the Sun doth flow in ampler Streams Than Moon or Stars why with more generous Beams Why do the Heavens so Bless the Womb of Earth With Vital Heat and Seed for Fruitful Birth Why from the Brooks such puny purlings come Whilst Nile with Thundring Floods sets from his home And Yearly hugs blest Egypt's wealthy Land With the orewhelming bounty of his Hand Why doth the Sea with restless kindness too To all th' unnumbred Springs supplies renew Whilst narrow Cisterns just begin to flow And straight they fail dry up and empty grow Why are some Lands of such an hide-bound soil And so ungrateful to the Tillers toil When Rich returns from better natur'd ground To fill his Mouth and Deck his Head are found And Plains with freewill Fruits and Flowers Crown'd Why doth most Beauty most compliant prove With the sweet motions of all noble Love And why such Clemency such goodness find We from the Valiant and Heroick mind For still the largest Soul is the most
Roots No Fight no Palm the Church Triumphant's found'd Upon the Militant its Purple Ground Nor would blest Vision bring such unthought joy Had not Faith here been mixt with some alloy PHILARETE But emulation frequently possest With envious Flames these holy Fathers Breast To see with dropping eyes the impious ride At Anchor in so high Pacifick tide Of happiness to sail when where they please With Winds at will in smooth obedient Seas No Sands Rocks Remora's the course impede Where their desires them uncontrouled lead Through right wrong devoid of fear and care Displaying their proud Streamers through the air No heavy bands cry'd they of griping pain From hasty Fate their pleasant race restrain But life runs freely in one even thread As in the Weaver's smooth unknotted Web Drawn by kind constant Fortune out at length To extream Age crown'd with vivacious strength And when they must unbound'd by pangs or fear They fleet and vanish like a puff of air A death like to their life which free from stings Of humming cares which Vertue swarming brings To her perplexed lovers sweetly flows In pleasure which no Plagues no sorrow knows The Clouds let fall more than their houses take Nor could their minds just hopes or wishes make Equal to their envi'd Felicity Which drops uncar'd uncall'd for from the Sky This swells their hearts with Insolence and Pride Blows up their breasts with airy thoughts so wide That self-adoring Zeal rules and gives thence The Reins to a Tyrannick Violence Their big words terrifie the Minor sort Who throng in crouds at their great Names report Prone to adore a Glorious Rising Sun Altho it burns as oft as shines upon Nor stay their Tongues on Earth but threat the Stars From their proud Babels with Gigantick Wars No silent Murmurs but defiance loud Tush the most High sits careless in a Cloud Doth God see this and yet who all sin blames Abstain from Thunder from vindictive flames These are the men that prosper these are blest With Riches Honours unmolested rest Leaving their Sons a great enobled Name And landed Mansions called by the same In vain do some as living Temples clean Their broken-hearts in vain their hands contain In Innocence in vain for Vertues sake Reproaches Taunts what not with Patience take Whilst prosp'rous Vice is Vertue Fiends are made The only Saints in modish Masquerade But I desist lest seem to disapprove Their select Lot whom hoped Glories move THEOPHOBE Thus holy Men indeed might greatly slide When they presum'd to measure things so wide With their short Feet and by Vertigo fall Weighing their God in the uncertain Scale Of humane Brain trusting to their own Wit They might benighted still in darkness sit But when with groping tired they recurr'd To go with a pure heart and humble Word Into the Sacred Courts there by address To lively Oracles the happiness Of Vertues Foes was seen and crowning ends Not to be greatly envi'd by her Friends The mighty Patience whilst that long it spares The Grandeur of its Glory thus declares And writes fair Lines for Mortals to transcribe Which greedily ah grief Revenge imbibe Should Heaven thus reward we might think well The Earth long since must needs be made a Hell It spares and offers Mercy who refuse Are left without all shadow of excuse And whom no gentle Flames of Love can turn To melt the all-consuming Fire will burn Burn up those Rods with which the King of kings Doth use to scourge his Subjects for their sins Lifted like Eagles Cockles up on high O how they fall much much more heavily From lofty Turrets down to dismal Cells From fanci'd Heavens into real Hells Made fat and deckt as Beasts by Votaries Design'd and kept till fit for Sacrifice Their peccant fulness turns to a disease No poison's worse than that which loves to please In pleasant Philtrums or in Candid Pills First it delights then toxicates and kills No plenty heals but much dilates the sore As drinking Feavers are inflam'd the more Give give like barren Wombs the Miser cries New wants abound still with his New supplies What tho their Gayeties may long look brisk And whilst the Sun shines kindly dance and frisk As all Fanatick shews yet at the last The black Day comes with speed tho not with hast Vengeance falls on at once nor brooks remands Altho with leaden Feet yet Iron Hands When Divine Furies thus in storm arise Ill Treasure with its Lords dispersed flies As Golden Images which use to creep In to illude the sanguine Dreamers sleep Leave nought but melancholick thoughts behind To the awaken'd vain deceived mind But grant a life which is too rare to see Were wholly spent in perfect Comedy Yet what 's all Time to Ever it appears Less than a Moment to Ten Thousand Years For take each moment Millions from the Score Still there remain Millions of Millions more Nor could all Requiems united spell The ingrate sounds of one eternal Knell Which pierce and grate not less but much the more For too sweet Sirens Musick heard before Sometimes the darling proves a discontent To her own Lover Crime is Punishment Alas 't is seen when men grow mostly sage They curse not worship in their cooled Age Those Delilah's to which as Deities Their Youth would Life and Fortune Sacrifice Now anxious Breasts eccho in sighs and groans The mindful grating of their tortur'd bones Nor is the calm-look'd sinner less opprest With secret Furies which will know no rest But intertwine their Scorpion Hairs with his Most soft embraces of indeared bliss His Minion Snake which no wise voice can charm The very bosom stings which keeps it warm So that his Life as to the inward Scheme Transcribes Prometheus Vulture for its Theme His looks like Aetna's may wear Snow without Yet Bowels burn with Flames which ne'r go out Till swallow'd up in greater they unite With the black Fires of an eternal night Which imbred Scenes of Judgment represent Anticipating long the dire Event PHILARETE A sorry bliss which soon as pressed must Like Sodom's Apples crumble into dust Sad sweets which when into the belly fall Like Saint John's Book are turned into Gall. Who would not fly such dear Felicities Which surely end in endless Precipice THEOPHOBE But had true Vertue nothing to entice But her fair self yet that sweet Paradise Alone might be sufficient to engage In vestal Flames a whole Platonick Age The great Kings Daughter Brightness of his Face His reflex Image and the first in place Of his dear Offsprings deckt all o're with Gems Which outshine Stars eclipse all Diadems Which wealthy Ophir ever could supply Or force of seven Flames could purifie Blest man whose Spouse she is what heart but his Can think the Raptures of their Nuptial Bliss She 's brought unto him most divinely drest By curious hands in an embroider'd Vest Her Virgin Cousins bear her Company A band of Graces Oh! what melody What august