Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n
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A34834
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Verses, written upon several occasions by Abraham Cowley.
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Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667.
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1663
(1663)
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Wing C6694; ESTC R1522
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22,938
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66
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VERSES WRITTEN UPON SEVERAL OCCASIONS BY ABRAHAM COWLEY LONDON Printed for Henry Herringman and are to be sold at his Shop on the Lower walk in the New Exchange 1663. MOst of these Verses which the Author had no intent to publish having been lately printed at Dublin without his consent or knowledge and with many and some gross mistakes in the Impression He hath thought fit for his justification in some part to allow me to reprint them here Henry Herringman VERSES WRITTEN UPON SEVERAL OCCASIONS CHRISTS PASSION Taken out of a Greek Ode written by Mr. Masters of New College in Oxford 1. ENough my Muse of earthly things And inspirations but of wind Take up thy Lute and to it bind Loud and everlasting strings And on 'em play and to 'em sing The happy mournfull stories The Lamentable glories Of the great Crucifyed King Mountainous heap of wonders which do'st rise Till Earth thou joynest with the Skies Too large at bottom and at top too high To be half seen by mortal eye How shall I grasp this boundless thing What shall I play what shall I sing I 'le sing the mighty riddle of mysterious love Which neither wretched men below nor blessed Spirits above With all their Comments can explain How all the whole World's Life to dye did not disdain 2. I 'le sing the Searchless depths of the Compassion Divine The depths unfathom'd yet By reasons Plummet and the line of Wit Too light the Plummet and too short the line How the Eternal Father did bestow His own Eternal Son as ransom for his foe I 'le sing aloud that all the World may hear The triumph of the buried Conquerer How hell was by its Pris'ner Captive led And the great Slayer Death slain by the Dead 3. Me thinks I hear of murthered men the voice Mixt with the Murderers confused noise Sound from the top of Calvarie My greedy eyes fly up the Hill and see Who 't is hangs there the midmost of the three Oh how unlike the others he Look how he bends his gentle head with blessings from the tree His gratious hands ne're stretcht but to do good Are nail'd to the infamous wood And sinfull Man do's fondly bind The Arms which he extends t' embrace all humane kind 4. Unhappy Man can'st thou stand by and see All this as patient as he Since he thy Sins do's bear Make thou his sufferings thine own And weep and sigh and groan And beat thy Breast and tear Thy Garments and thy Hair And let thy grief and let thy love Through all thy bleeding bowels move Do'st thou not see thy Prince in purple clad all o're Not purple brought from the Sidonian shore But made at home with richer gore Dost thou not see the Roses which adorn The thorny Garland by him worn Dost thou not see the livid traces Of the sharp scourges rude embraces If yet thou feelest not the smart Of Thorns and Scourges in thy heart If that be yet not Crucified Look on his hands look on his feet look on his side 5. Open Oh! open wide the Fountains of thine eyes And let 'em call Their stock of moisture forth where ere it lyes For this will ask it all 'T would all alas too little be Though thy salt tears came from a Sea Can'st thou deny him this when he Has open'd all his vital Springs for thee Take heed for by his sides mysterious flood May well be understood That he will still require some waters to his blood On Orinda's Poems ODE WE allow'd You Beauty and we did submit To all the Tyrannies of it Ah! Cruel Sex will you depose us too in Wit Orinda do's in that too raign Do's Man behind her in Proud Triumph draw And Cancel great Apollo's Salick Law We our old Title plead in vain Man may be Head but Woman 's now the Brain Verse was Loves fire-arms heretofore In Beauties Camp it was not known Too many Armes besides that Conquerour bore 'T was the great Canon we brought down T' assault a stubborn Town Orinda first did a bold sally make Our strongest Quarter take And so succesfull prov'd that she Turn'd upon Love himself his own Artillery 2. Women as if the Body were their Whole Did that and not the Soul Transmit to their Posterity If in it sometime they conceiv'd Th' abortive Issue never liv'd 'T were shame and pitty ' Orinda if in thee A Spirit so rich so noble and so high Should unmanur'd or barren lye But thou industriously hast sow'd and till'd The fair and fruitfull field And 't is a strange increase that it doth yield As when the happy Gods above Meet altogether at a feast A secret Joy unspeakably does move In their great Mother Cybele's contented breast With no lesse pleasure thou methinks shouldst see Th's thy no less Immortal Progenie And in their Birth thou no one touch dost find Of th' ancient Curse to Woman-kind Thou bring'st not forth with pain It neither Travel is nor Labour of the brain So easily they from thee come And there is so much room In th' unexhausted and unfathom'd Womb That like the Holland Countess thou mayst bear A child for every day of all the fertil year 3. Thou dost my wonder wouldst my envy raise If to be prais'd I lov'd more than to praise Where e're I see an excellence I must admire to see thy well knit sense Thy numbers gentle and thy Fancies high Those as thy fore-head smooth these sparkling as thine eye 'T is solid and 't is manly all Or rather 't is Angelical For as in Angels we Do in thy Verses see Both improv'd Sexes eminently meet They are than Man more strong and more than Woman sweet 4. They talk of Nine I know not who Female Chimera's that o're Poets reign I ne'r could find that fancy true But have invok'd them oft I 'm sure in vain They talk of Sappho but alass the shame Ill manners soil the lustre of her Fame Orinda's inward virtue is so bright That like a Lanthorn's fair inclosed Light It through the paper shines where she does write Honour and Friendship and the Generous scorn Of things for which we were not born Things that can only by a fond Disease Like that of Girles our vicious Stomachs please Are the instructive Subjects of her pen And as the Roman Victory Taught our rude Land Arts and Civility At once she overcomes enslaves and betters Men. 5. But Rome with all her Arts could ne're inspire A Female Breast with such a fire The warlike Amazonian train Who in Elysium now do peacefull reign And wits milde Empire before Arms prefer Hope 't will be setled in their sex by her Merlin the Seer and sure he would not ly In such a sacred Company Does Prophecies of Learn'd Orinda show Which he had darkly spoke so long ago Ev'n Boadicia's angry Ghost Forgets her own misfortune and disgrace And to her injur'd Daughters now does boast That Rome's o'recome at last by'a woman of her