Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n
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A65456
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Elegies on the Queen and Archbishop by Samuel Wesley ...
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Wesley, Samuel, 1662-1735.
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1695
(1695)
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Wing W1368; ESTC R5820
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12,314
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32
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angry Brothers did Heav'ns Bolts desire Justly did them the Prince of Peace reprove Taught 'em to conquer with a milder Fire To conquer with the kindlier Warmth of Love XXIX If this a Fault ev'n that Apostle err'd Whose great soul stoop'd and all to all was made Who Charity to Faith it self preferr'd And yet no Truth deny'd of none affraid XXX Thus this true Follower of his Saviours Life Who in his shining Paths exactly went Taught without Noise and differ'd without strife Soft were his Words but strong his Argument XXXI Not holy Cranmer easier cou'd forgive Or more of heav'n-born Charity express'd Firm to his Friend a surer ne'er did live Tho' most to Truth the greatest and the best XXXII Such great Armagh who perfect long before Amid the blest a Starry Mitre wears Such many a Confessor and Martyr more And such that Saint who now demands our Tears XXXIII What grateful Crowds did him in Glory wait Whom his calm Reas'nings thither show'd the Way How Blest his share in that unchanging State How bright he shines in those bright Realms of Day XXXIV What Clouds of Pray'rs did waft him to that Place Where Seraphs sing with heavn'ly Ardour fir'd Ay-gazing on the Beatific Face The first Preferment that he e'er desir'd XXXV In him the Orphan a new Father found While Widows scarcely their lost Lords lament A gentle Surgeon he for e'ery Wound Exiles with him enjoy'd their Banishment XXXVI None ever griev'd did from his Presence goe The Poor with such a Godlike Sweetness rais'd They scarce cou'd blame their Fate that made 'em so While Heav'n and him their just devotion prais'd XXXVII Favour'd by God and Man and full of Grace By all his Wrongs unbroken all his Cares Eternal Youth smil'd in his reverend Face Tho' pure as Virgin-Snow his Silver Hairs XXXVIII To Heav'n he pay'd or to the World he lent That Time which he so justly did divide On both so much and yet so well he spent That like the Loaves you 'd think it multiply'd XXXIX How clear his Soul how firm his gen'rous Breast How vast the Compass of his mighty mind How fairly all in his grave Looks express'd Not for himself but born for whole Mankind XL. Where'er Heav'n call'd and his great Genius went He still excell'd in Pulpit Church and State To all a bright a lasting pattern lent For most t' admire and some to imitate XLI A Statesman free from Int'rest or Design A Prelate watchful painful humble wise How did he then when in the Pulpit shine Commanding Mortals Ears and Angels Eyes XLII So Moses spake when he from Sinai came And Isr'el did high Heav'ns Credentials show So look'd his Temples crown'd with radiant Flame On all the dazzled Auditors below XLIII Tho' peaceful like his Lord this Saint appear'd No strugling Thunder rais'd or Mountains rent A still small Voice like whisp'ring Winds was heard Which pierc'd the secret Soul where'er it went XLIV 'T was Music Poetry and Rapture all The Sweets of his orac'lous inords to share As soft they fell as balmy Dew-drops fall As smooth as undisturb'd etherial Air. XLV In him how many various Graces meet Hooker's weigh'd Periods not perplex'd or long As Waller's Sense correct or Numbers sweet Cleaner his Thought than Wilkins and as strong XLVI One Word you cannot add or take away Compleat as Virgils his Majestic Sense To twenty Ages if the World shall stay The Standard he of English Eloquence XLVII To all he writes one Demonstration gives Which gently draws and yet compels assent Good Life which shows that he himself believes Good Life the most persuasive Argument XLVIII How cou'd the blackest Malice e'er oppose So fair a Fame a Goodness so divine Meekest on Earth cou'dst thou have any Foes But God and Cesar have and theirs were thine XLIX Scarce better that brave man his Love express'd Or dearer Marks of Loyalty did show The poison'd Knife aim'd at his Sovereigns breast Who stepp'd between to catch the fatal Blow L. A manly not a brute Submission paid Abhorr'd the Rebel as abhorr'd the Slave From Love not Fear his Sovereign he obey'd Who is not Loyal never can be brave LI. When false Licinius fled or did resign He had the Christians Oaths who fill'd his Place Still Loyal to the generous Constantine Tho' injur'd by the faithless Pagan-Race LII Shou'd some old lost Plantagenet arise And plead his lineal Title to the Throne who 'd not his antiquated Claim despise And still the brave the just Possessor own LIII So he who claims our Song and claims our Grief Who now the Prey of over-hasty Fate Of all the Mitred Worthies justly chief The firm Supporters of the Church and State LIV. Whole Clouds of fiery Darts by Malice cast And forg'd in Hell aim'd at the Sacred Head Most glanc'd on him some short some over-past Some dropt disarm'd and at his Feet lay dead LV. How calmly smil'd he at Hells fruitless Spite How sure and yet how easie his Defence Fearless he stood and dar'd infernal might Under his seven-fold Shield of Innocence LVI So generous Scaeva who for Cesar fought And stood with Groves of Deaths encompass'd round While Groves of Deaths on his broad Shield he brought Disarm'd the adverse Host without a Wound LVII Unmov'd by all th' ill-natur'd World cou'd do When curs'd he blest he pray'd as they revil'd So well his Saviours Life and Laws he knew Abus'd he turn'd the other Cheek and smil'd LVIII If any Blot in all his Life 's fair Field 'T was height of Goodness made his Iudgment stray Of his black Foes he like the Father held There might be room in Heav'n for such as they LIX But he was all-a-Saint and cou'd forgive Not so the Muse who does just Blots prepare Ah no! his Hands as while he here did live Still stop the gath'ring Thunder in the Air. LX. Since then we pity some tho some detest No farther Muse in this sad Scene proceed Here draw a modest Veil before the rest Ah gently touch the Wound which still does bleed LXI Calm as his Life end then our grateful Song Calm as his Soul when she to Glory went Be the worst Word to those who him did wrong His own last Wishes may they all repent LXII While those near warmer happier Regions born Weave costlier Garlands of immortal Verse The best poor Flow'rs our barren Hills adom Thus wash't in Tears we bring to crown his Herse FINIS Advertisement THE Life of our Blessed Lord and Saviour IESUS CHRIST An Heroic Poem Dedicated to Her late Most Sacred Majesty In Ten Books By SAMUEL WESLEY Author of this Poem Each Book illustrated by necessary Notes explaining all the more difficult Matters in the whole History also a Prefatory Discourse concerning Heroic Poetry With Sixty Copper Plates Printed for C. Harper and B. Motte 1695. Revelat. 4. 10. * 6. Revel 10 11. * 15. Revel 3 4 11. S. Iohn 35 38. His Sermons against Atheism His Sermons against the Socinians * 1 Pet. 1. 12.
the rest a single wear Two Branches seem of the Nassovian Line Aurange Coligny Yes they 're they Such Beams around their Temples us'd to play The third is Martyr'd CHARLES still more Divine It must be Martyr'd CHARLES he looks so good His Ermins dy'd with his own sacred Blood By sacrilegious Hands all Victims fell All sent too soon to Heav'n by Monsters rais'd from Hell All their great Kindred welcome and embrace But CHARLES the most and best Who thus her Merit and his Love exprest Welcome thrice welcome to this happy place Whose Praise nor Envy shall nor Age deface Thou best thou dearest Name of all my Race And more he wou'd have said but hears Th' Intelligences tune their Spheres And knew they wou'd some wond'rous thing At her Reception sing All in their Hands the Harps of God they take Nature be still No Voice beneath The Clouds be heard no Wind to breath No Leaf to shake XXV How wond rous are thy Works how bright O of unbounded Pow'r and Might Yet if we ought can add unto thy Praise We for the Truth and Iustice of thy Ways O King of Saints will nobler Trophies raise What Mortal form'd of Dust and Clay What Mind to thee as weak as they Can in thy angry sight appear Or at thy Voice can choose to Fear If once thy Voice they not obey It soon can take the Life it gave Tho' rather thy delight to save O Holy Father Spirit and Son Dread Holy Three Dread Holy One Thy Eyes how perfect and how pure All those approve Who Virtue love Nor can the smallest Stain of guilt endure Tho' long the stupid World has been Enslav'd to Error lost in sin Did long thy saving Health despise Now the fair years in comly Order rise The stupid World shall worship Fiends no more Their Temples by th' Almighties Frown Their smoaking Altars thunder'd down But thee and thy dread Son O King of Kings adore A POEM On the Death of his Grace JOHN Late Lord Arch-Bishop OF CANTERBURY I. FInd me some place yet more remov'd from Day Impervious to the Suns all-cheering Light Where Comfort casts no Gleam kind Heav'n no Ray Lost in the double Shades of Grief and Night II. There will I mourn till I grow old in Tears Till I th' unkind the spiteful World have shown 'T is a true Black my unbought Sorrow wears 'T is for my Countrys Loss and not my own III. When he whom Deaths hard sleep in vain did bind In his dark Grotto immaturely slept A greater Mourner than if all Mankind Shrouded in black had waited IESUS wept IV. He taught us Tenderness where e'er 't was due Nor e'er cou'd Tomb to more than this pretend Which shall this Truth to Grandchild Ages shew Here lies Mankinds and God's and Cesar's Friend V. Say Envy's self if Envy's self can say If to his God he was not pure from Blame His Soul shin'd thro' with so divine a Ray As clear confest the Heav'n from whence she came VI. Iust all his Thoughts of God all great and bright Mild Majesty with awful Goodness vail'd Such as might Man allure and not affright All worthy him who Heav'ns great Lord is hail'd VII No black Idea form'd from Guilt or Fear Or by illnatur'd Ign'rance ill-defin'd But such as pure unmatter'd Angels wear Such he himself now rais'd to perfect Mind VIII Humbly he lov'd whom gladly he obey'd Serene his Pray'rs unclouded as his Brow Beneficent and Good to all he made He taught him then and such he finds him now IX Him he thro all the Maze of Matter trac'd In every Particle his Footsteps found Who first a shore to the wild Chaos plac'd And Atom close to Brother-Atom bound X. In Heav'ns wide Arch he found and show'd him there Adorn'd in all his Furniture of Light Then here transcrib'd in Strokes almost as fair In lasting Characters almost as bright XI O'er this vast Globe did his bold Pencil show How all his Works did spread their Makers Fame How aged Mountains stand and Waters flow And every Flow'r and Insect wears his Name XII No flatt'ring Colours on weak Reasons laid No drossy mixtures with the purer Ore Strongly he built and firm Foundations made From Truths and Natures unexhausted Store XIII Yet his strong Reason to his Faith he bent By new Elastic Pow'rs still stronger made Yet more-than-nat'ral Truths had his Assent Who where he cou'd not comprehend obey'd XIV Ah miscall'd Reas'ners who wou'd Reason bring Th' Eternal Word and Reason to dethrone Your Faith refuse to your Almighty King Protection take yet no Allegiance own XV. Who a Man-God a Sub-Supreme create Not to the great God-man just Honours pay Rob the Creator of his Kingly State And yet to one you think a Creature pray XVI When left by God how vain a Thing is Man How weak his Mind from its true Center thrown Christ's Mysteries you can't believe but can Such pure mysterious Nonsence of your own XVII Not so this Champion of his Saviour's Name Whose weighty Pen did Heresy confound Secur'd his own and th' injur'd Churches Fame And laid the Polish Monster on the Ground XVIII He knew ev'n Natures self had Mysteries Too deep for shallow Reason's finite Line Nor lookt against the Sun nor clos'd his Eyes Nor equall'd humane Knowledge with divine XIX Nor all believ'd who from th' Eternal King Commission plead but can't produce his Hand A false a forging Race who only bring His miscall'd Vicars ill-dissembled Brand. XX. Tho all Mankind he lov'd he cou'd not those Whose monstrous Faith 's full contradiction-size Who on the Sense of all Mankind impose And with implicit Faith believe in Lyes XXI Who old deform'd Idolatry new paint And Images to theif lost Shrines restore The Name just chang'd the Hero turn'd to Saint Where Demons lodge as quiet as before XXII Whose whole Religion turn'd to Cheat and Trade Did all devou'r like Babels Idol Thief Who to the Rich all Lewdness venial made But damn'd th' insolvent Poor without Relief XXIII None e'er with neater Sense or closer laid Unmask'd their Frauds than thou Great Man hast done As once the French of Talbots name affraid We 'll still th' Italians now with TILLOTSON XXIV Yet no wild Motions e'er disturb'd his Breast His Reason not his Passion kept him warm No warring Winds his peaceful Soul opprest Where blew a gentle Breeze but not a Storm XXV As he already liv'd in Paradice All equable his happy Hours did flow Unruffled he by Int'rest or by Vice He never knew a Thought or Care so low XXVI Pardon dear Country if that Heat I blame Which but too oft our Freeborn Minds enslaves Let Rome alone th' unerring Title claim Why shou'd I storm because another raves XXVII Or wash'd by Seas our Fire like Etna glows Or the strong Spirits within too closely pent Prey on themselves for want of other Foes And fuming to unnat'ral Warmth ferment XXVIII When th'