Selected quad for the lemma: rest_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A67346
|
Poems, &c. written upon several occasions, and to several persons by Edmond Waller.; Poems. Selections
|
Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687.
|
1686
(1686)
|
Wing W517; ESTC R9926
|
76,360
|
316
|
dwâ—llâ— And a 〈◊〉 Conscience mingling with their Joy Thoughts of Despair do's their whole Life annoy But Love appearing all those Terrors flie We live contented and contented die They in whose breast this sacred Love has place Death as a passage to their Joy embrace Clouds and thick Vapors which obscure the day The Suns victorious Beams may chase away Those which our Life corrupt and darken Love The Nobler Star must from the Soul remove Spots are observ'd in that which bounds the year This brighter Sun moves in a boundless Sphere Of Heav'n the Joy the Glory and the Light Shines among Angels and admits no Night CANTO V. THis Iron Age so fraudulent and bold Toucht with this Love would be an Age of Gold Not as they feign'd that Oaks should Honey drop Or Land neglected bear an unsown Crop Love would make all things easy safe and cheap None for himself would either sow or reap Our ready Help and mutual Love would yield A nobler Harvest than the richest Field Famine and Dearth confin'd to certain parts Extended are by barrenness of Hearts Some pine for want where others surfeit now But then we should the use of Plenty know Love would betwixt the Rich and Needy stand And spread Heav'ns bounty with an equal hand At once the Givers and Receivers bless Encrease their Joy and make their Sufferings less Who for himself no Miracle would make Dispens'd with Nature for the Peoples sake He that long Fasting would no wonder show Made Loaves and Fishes as they eat them grow Of all his Power which boundless was above Here he us'd none but to express his Love And such a Love would make our Joy exceed Not when our own but other mouths we feed Laws would be useless which rude Nature awe Love changing Nature would prevent the Law Tygers and Lyons into Dens we thrust But milder Creatures with their freedom trust Devils are chain'd and tremble but the Spouse No force but Love nor Bond but Bounty knows Men whom we now so 〈◊〉 and dang'rous see Would Guardian Angels to each other be Such wonders can this mighty Love perform Vultures to Doves Wolves into Lambs transform Love what Isaiah prophecy'd can do Exalt the Vallies lay the Mountains low Humblethe Lofty the Dejected raise Smooth and make strait our rough and crooked ways Love strong as Death and like it levels all With that possest the great in Title fall Themselves esteem but equal to the least Whom Heav'n with that high Character has blest This Love the Centre of our Union can Alone bestow complete Repose on Man Tame his wild Appetite make inward Peace And Foreign strife among the Nations cease No Martial Trumpet should disturb our rest Nor Princes Arm thô to subdue the East Where for the Tomb â—â—o many Hero's taught By those that guided their Devotion faught Thrice Happy we could we like Ardor have To gain his Love as they to win his Grave Love as he Lov'd a Love so unconfin'd With Arms extended would embrace Mankind Self-Love would cease or be dilated when We should behold as many Selfs as Men All of one Family in Blood ally'd His precious Blood that for our Ransom dy'd CANTO VI. THô the Creation so divinely taught Prints such a lively Image in our thought That the first spark of new Created light From Chaos struck affects our present sight Yet the first Christians did esteem more blest The day of Rising than the day of Rest That ev'ry week might new occasion give To make his Triumph in their memory live Then let our Muse compose a Sacred Charm To keep his Blood among us ever warm And singing as the Blessed do above With our last breath dilate this â—lame of Love But on so vast a Subject who can find Words that may reach th' Idea's of his mind Our Language fails or if it could supply What Mortal Thought can raise it self so high Despairing here we might abandon Art And only hope to have it in our heart But though we find this Sacred Task too hard Yet the Design th'endeavor brings Reward The Contemplation does suspend our Woe And makes a Truce with all the Ills we know As Saul's afflicted Spirit from the sound Of David's Harp a present Solace found So on this Theam while we our Muse engage No Wounds are felt of Fortune or of Age On Divine Love to meditate is Peace And makes all care of meaner things to cease Amaz'd at once and comforted to find A boundless Pow'r so infinitely kind The Soul contending to that Light to flie From her dark Cell we practise how to die Imploying thus the Poet 's winged Art To reach this Love and grave it in our heart Joy so complete so solid and severe Would leave no place for meaner Pleasures there Pale they would look as Stars that must be gone When from the East the Rising Sun comes on Floriferis ut Apes in saltibus omnia libant sic nos Scripturae depascimur aurea dicta Anrea perpetuâ semper dignissima vitâ Nam Divinus Amor cum coepit vociferari Diffugiunt Animi Terrores Lucr. Exul eram requiesque mihi non Fama petita est Mens intenta suis ne foret usque malis Namque ubi mota calent Sacrâ mea Pectora Musâ Altior humano Spiritus ille malo est De Trist. OF Divine Poesie TWO CANTOS Occasioned upon sight of the 53d Chapter of Isaiah turn'd into Verse by Mrs. Wharton CANTO I. POets we prize when in their Verse we find Some great employment of a worthy mind Angels have been inquisitive to know The Secret which this Oracle does show What was to come Isaiah did declare Which she describes as if she had been there Had seen the Wounds which to the Reader 's view She draws so lively that they Bleed a new As Ivy thrives which on the Oak takes hold So with the Prophets may her lines grow old If they should die who can the World forgive Such pious Lines When wanton Sapho's live Who with his Breath his Image did inspire Expects it should foment a Nobler fire Not Love which Brutes as well as Men may know But Love like his to whom that Breath we owe. Verse so design'd on that high Subject wrote Is the Perfection of an ardent Thought The Smoke which we from burning Incense raise When we complete the Sacrifice of Praise In boundless Verse the Fancy soars too high For any Object but the Deity What Mortal can with Heav'n pretend to share In the Superlatives of Wise and Fair A meaner Subject when with these we grace A Giants habit on a Dwarf we place Sacred should be the Product of our Muse Like that sweet Oil above all private use On pain of Death forbidden to be made But when it should be on the Altar laid Verse shows a rich inestimable Vein When dropt from Heav'n 't is thither sent again Of Bounty 't is that he admits our Praise Which does
From her Broad-sides a ruder Flame is thrown Than from the fiery Chariot of the Sun That bears the radiant Ensign of the day And she the Flag that Governs in the Sea The Duke ill pleas'd that Fire should thus prevent The work which for His brighter sword He meant Anger still burning in His vallant breast Goes to compleat Revenge upon the rest So on the guardless Herd their Keeper slain Rushes a Tyger in the Lybian Plain The Dutch accustom'd to the raging Sea And in black Storms the frowns of Heav'n to see Never met Tempest which more urg'd their fears Than that which in the Prince His look appears Fierce Goodly Young Mars he resembles when Iove sends him down to scourge perâ—idious Men Such as with foul Ingratitude have paid Both those that Led and those that gave them Aid Where He gives on disposing of their Fates Terror and Death on His loud Cannon waits With which He pleads His Brothers Cause so well He shakes the Throne to which He does appeal The Sea with spoil His angry Bullets strow Widows and Orphans making as they go Before His Ship fragments of Vessels torn Flags Arms And Belgian Carcasses are born And his despairing Foâ—s to flight inclin'd Spread all their Canvas to invite the Wind So the rude Boreas where he lists to blow Makes Clouds above and Billows flie below Beating the Shore and with a boisterous rage Does Heav'n at once and Earth and Sea ingage The Dutch elsewhere did through the watry field Perform enough to have made others yield But English Courage growing as they fight In Danger Noise and Slaughter takes delight Their bloody Task unwearied still they ply Only restrain'd by Death or Victory Iron and Lead from Earths dark Entrails torn Like show'rs of Hail from either side are born So high the Rage of wretched Mortals goes Hurling their Mothers Bowels at their Foes Ingenious to their Ruine every Age Improves the Arts and Instruments of Rage Death hast'ning ills Nature enough has sent And yet Men still a thousand more invent But Bacchus now which led the Belgians on So fierce at first to favour us begun Brandee and Wine their wonted Friends at length Render them useless and betray their strength So Corn in Fields and in the Garden Flowers Revive and raise themselves with moderate showâ—â—â— But overcharg'd with never-ceafing Rain Become too moist and bend their heads again Their reeling Ships on one another fall Without a Foe enough to ruine all Of this Disorder and the favouring Wind The watchful English such advantage find Ships fraught with Fire among the heap they throw And up the so intangled Bâ—lgians blow The Flame invades the Powder-Rooms and then Their Guns shoot Bullets and their Vessels Men The scorcht Batavians on the Billows float Sent from their own to pass in Charon's Boat And now our Royal Admiral Success With all the marks of Victory does bless The burning Ships the taken and the slain Proclaim His Triumph o're the conquer'd Main Nearer to Holland as their hasty flight Carries the noise and tumult of the Fight His Cannons roar Forerunner of His Fame Makes their Hague tremble and their Amsterdam The Eritish Thunder does their Houses rock And the Duke seems at every door to knock His dreadful Streamer like a Comets hair Threatning Destruction hastens their Despair Makes them deplore their scatter'd Fleet as lost And fear our presenâ— Landing on their Coast. The trembling Dutch th' approaching 〈◊〉 behold As Sheep a Lion leaping tow'rds their Fold Those Piles which serve them to repel the Main They think too weak His fury to restrain What Wonders may not English Valor work Led by th' Example of victorious YORK Or what Defence against Him can they make Who at such distance does their Countrey shake His fatal Hand their Bulwarks will o'rethrow And let in both the Ocean and the Foe Thus cry the People and their Land to keep Allow our Title to command the Deep Blaming their States ill Conduct to provoke Those Arms which freed them from the Spanish yoke Painter excuse me if I have a while Forgot thy Art and us'd another Stile For though you draw arm'd Heroes as they sit The task in Battel does the Muses â—it They in the dark confusion of a Fight Discover all instruct us how to write And Light and Honour to brave Actions yield Hid in the smoke and tumult of the Field Ages to come shall know that Leaders toil And His Great Name on whom the Muses smile Their Dictates here let thy fam'd Pencil trace And this Relation with thy Colours grace Then draw the Parliament the Nobles met And our Great Monarch High above Them set Like young Augustâ—s let His Image be Triumphing for that Victory at Sea Where Egypts Queen and Eastern Kings o'rethrown Made the possession of the World His own Last draw the Commons at His Royal Feet Pouring out Treasure to supply His Fleet They vow with Lives and Fortunes to maintain Their King 's Eternal Title to the Main And with a Present to the Duke approve His Valor Conduct and His Countries Love TO THE KING GREAT SIR Disdain not in this piece â—o stand Supreme Commander both of Sea and Land Those which inhabit the Celestial Bower Pâ—imers express with Emblems of their Pow'r His Club Alâ—ides Phoebus has his Bowe Iove has his Thunder and Your Navy You. But Your Great Providence no Colours here Can Represent nor Pencil draw that Care Which keeps You waking to secure our Peace The Nations Glory and our Trades increase You for these Ends whole days in Council sit And the Diversions of Your Youth forget Small were the worth of Valor and of Force If Your high Wisdom govern'd not their Course You as the Soul as the first Mover You Vigor and Lifâ— on every Part bestow How to build Ships and dreadful Ordinance cast Instruct the Artists and reward their Haste So Iove himself when Typhon Heav'n does brave Descends to visit Vulcan's smoky Cave Teaching the brawny Cyclops how to frame His Thunder mixt with Terror Wrath and Flame Had the old Greeks discover'd Your abode Crete had not been the Cradle of their God On that small Island they had look'd with scorn And in Great Britain thought the Thunderer born TO A Friend of the AUTHORS A Person of HONOVR Who lately writ a Religious Book Entituled Historical Applications and occasional Meditations upon several Subjects BOld is the Man that dares ingage For Piety in such an Age. Who can presume to find a Guard From Scorn when Heaven 's so little spar'd Divines are pardon'd they defend Altars on which their Lives depend But the Prophane impatient are When Nobler Pens make this their care For why should these let in a Beam Of Divine Light to trouble them And call in doubt their pleasing Thought That none believes what we are taught High Birth and Fortune warrant give That such Men write what they believe And feeling first