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A51015 Mr. Cowley's verses in praise of Mr. Hobbes, oppos'd by a lover of truth and virtue. Lover of truth and virtue.; Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667. 1680 (1680) Wing M2259; ESTC R16522 3,523 11

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Mr. COWLEY's VERSES In PRAISE of M R. HOBBES OPPOS'D By a Lover of Truth and Virtue Idcirco Virtus medio jacet obruta coeno Nequitiae classes candida vela ferunt 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Sint nunquam mihi tales Mores Iupiter Pater sed viis Simplicibus vitae insistam Laudans Laudanda Vituperiumque Inspergens Improbis PIND. NEM ODE VIII LONDON Printed in the Year 1680. To Mr. HOBBES 1 VAst Bodies of Philosophy I oft have seen and read But all are Bodies dead Or Bodies by Art fashioned I never yet the Living Soul could see But in thy Books and thee 'T is only God can know Whether the fair Idea thou dost show Agree entirely with his own or no. This I dare boldly tell 'T is so like Truth 't will serve our turn as well Iust as in * Nature thy Proportions be As full of Concord their Varietie As firm the parts upon their Center rest And all so Solid are that they at least As much as Nature Emptiness detest 2 What Bodies of Philosophie You oft have seen and read I wish you had but mentioned Wee 'd judge if they 're alive or dead We cannot judge before we Trye The Morals of the Stagarite Are Stars which to th' Dark World gave Light But Hobbes by his would turn our Day to Night Great Zenophon and Plato who relate How Socrates embrac'd his Fate And all the Brave Socratick Race Whose Monuments Time can't deface Shall live when Hobbes shall have his Doom So Lie as dead as doth TOM THUMB Good Men his Knavery spie His Books contain some Truths and many a Lie Some Truths well known but strange Impiety * Stay stay where now fond Lad Thy Wit thus strain'd Thou' rt ten times worse than Mad. What 's Nature but the Ordinary way Wherein our Good Creator doth display His Power and Wisdom in the things he made For his own Goodness sake Man 's not a Shade But utter Darkness whilst he acts alone Whilst his works are not natures but his own What! Hobbes and Nature thus to parallel What 's this but to confront Bright Heaven with Hell So doth the Poets wit suit with his Theme He that will Hobbes Applaud must first Blaspheme 2 Loug did the mighty Stagirite retain The universal Intellectual Reign Saw his own Countrys short-liv'd Leopard slain The stronger Roman Eagle did out-fly Oftner renew'd his Age and saw that Dye Mecha it self in spight of Mahomet possest And chas'd by a wild Deluge from the East His Monarchy new planted in the West But as in time each great Imperial Race Degenerates and gives some new one place So did this Noble Empire wast Sunk by degrees from Glories past And in the School-mens hands perisht quite at last Then nought but words it grew And those all Barbarous too It perisht and it vanisht there The Life and Soul breath'd out became but empty Air. 2 The Empire of the Stagarites sublime and piercing wit Thoth'Empire both of Greece and Rome Time did long since or'ecome Shall ne're decay but men shall still to its vast Power submit For All well-order'd thoughts must go Within the Compass of those Rules which his great Art did shew Our HARVEY whose bright Fame So Dazel'd Envies Eye that she could never see The least Pretence to lessen his Great Name Even He commends the Stagirite To all Posterity As one that had a Clear Insight Into the Secret ways of Natures Majesty 'T is true he fail'd in that he did not see That things Successive could not be From all Eternitie But yet he saw That this is Natures Law That all things must depend on him alone Who gives to all things Motion though himself has none Who Is and Was and Ever shall Be ONE In all Simplicitie From Composition and from Alteration free To whom may all true Praise be given In Earth as 't is in Heaven 3 The Fields which answered well the Antients Plow Spent and out-worn return no Harvest now In Barren Age wild and unglorious lie And boast of past Fertilitie The poor relief of present Poverty Food and Fruit we now must want Unless New Lands we plant We break up Tombs with Sacrilegious hands Old Rubbish we remove To walk in Ruines like vain Ghosts we love And with fond Divining Wands We search among the Dead For Treasures Buried Whilst still the liberal Earth does hold So many Virgin Mines of undiscovered Gold 3 That in this Age Men don 't their Thoughts confine Within the Line Of what Judicious Aristotle said Nor are his Works so commented As they were in those Days They don't hereby detract from his Great Praise Sith they walk in those ways To which his mighty Genius led His Commendation was not this that he Did shew the Truth of this or that Particularitie But that he shew'd the way to clear our Thought That every Man might find that Truth which should by him be sought 4 The Baltic Euxin and the Caspian And slender limb'd Mediterranean Seem Narrow Creeks to Thee and only fit For the poor wretched Fisher-Boats of Wit Thy Nobler Vessel the vast Ocean tries And nothing sees but Seas and Skies Till unknown Regions it descries Thou great Columbus of the Golden Lands of New Philosophies Thy Task was harder much than his For thy learn'd America is Not only found out first by thee And rudely left to future Industry But thy Eloquence and thy Wit Has planted peopled built and civilized it 4 'T is true thy New Philosopher has left the Caspian The Baltic Euxin Mediterranean The Narrow ways to all that V●ritie Which Mortals can descrie He Sails i' th' Ocean of the most Profound Impiety And from the Coasts of Hell He brings those Wares which he shall never sell To any but those dark'ned Souls which lie where Adam fell The Power of Earthly Princes he doth foolishly pretend By his fictitious Loyalty t' extend To larger measures gives to Kings what 's due to God alone Thus what he seems to make more great he really makes none For sure on Earth there is No Monarchy If it consist in ABSOLUTE Sovereignty The King of Kings commands us to obey our King By chearful Doing or by quiet Suffering He that the Power of Kings would have much higher to arise His King Dishonours and his GOD he doth Despise Such Folk dwell in those Colonies Which Hobbes has planted in his Lands of New Philosophies I little thought before Nor being my own self so poor Could comprehend so vast a store That all the Wardrobe of rich Eloquence Could have afforded half enuff Of bright of new and lasting Stuff To cloath the mighty limbs of thy Gigantick Sens● Thy solid Reason like the Shield from Heaven To the Trojan Heroe given Too strong to take a mark from any mortal Dart Yet shines with Gold and Gems in every part And wonders on it grav'd by the learned hand of Art A Shield that gives delight Even to the Enemies sight Then when they 're sure to lose the Combat by 't 5 His Monstrous Thoughts may well be call'd Gigantick Sense To Heaven they fain would offer violence Like those Giants of old Of which the Poets told Even like Goliath they Defie The Armies of the Living God and like him too they Die The Man with his Gigantick Sense his mighty Spear and Shield Comes forth into the Field And for some time he Boasted there As if he had no Cause to Fear His Captive-Darkned Soul cann't see What 't is to have our Souls set free From the Black Chains of dire NECESSITIE This and a Thousand Errors more He strives to Land upon our Shoar But then the Mighty BRAMHAL comes and takes his Arms away Shews that this Painted Shield's not fit for Fight but Play Strikes down the Monster doth to All his Ugly Shape display Then in another Field he 's met by th' Mighty WARD And here 't was plainly seen that he could neither guard Himself from being Wounded or give Wounds Down strait he falls his Armour on him sounds What e're his Followers say he never Rose again His Ghost is heard to Rave sometimes but then Bold TOM was slain 6 Nor can the Snow which now cold Age does shed Upon thy reverend Head Quench or allay the noble Fires within But all which thou hast bin And all that Youth can be thou' rt yet So fully still dost Thou Enjoy the Manhood and the Bloom of Wit And all the Natural Heat but not the Feaver too So Contraries on Aetna's Top conspire Her hoary Frosts and by them breaks out Fire A secure peace the faithful Neighbours keep Th● emboldned Snow next to the Flame does sleep And if we weigh like Thee Nature and Causes we shall see That thus it needs must be To things Immortal Time can do no wrong And that which never is to Dye for ever must be Young TOM's grown Another Man and now himself betakes To Poetry and Sonnets makes Of Gods and Goddesses and such like things He 's now the Eccho of what HOMER Sings If Versifying be a Sign of Youth The Man of Politicks is youthful still He does not here Pretend to shew the Truth On which Pretence how much Ink did he spill O that he had spent all the Time In hard Translations and in Rhyme Which he spent in Opposing Truths by which to Heaven we climb No wonder that Old Age Youth Aetnean Cold Heat Should Meet in Him in whom long since such Contradictions Met. I wish he may not Die too soon after so long a Life That he no longer would maintain his cursed Strife Gainst That which would make him repent of all 's Impieties Least his Long Life bring him i' th' End to th' WORM that Never Dies FINIS