Selected quad for the lemma: heaven_n
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A93162
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Dia, a poem to which is added Love made lovely. / By William Shipton published by a friend.
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Shipton, William.
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1659
(1659)
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Wing S3457; Thomason E2113_2; ESTC R212658
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58,823
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207
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should make them chant a song to see a Lady in whose refreshing bosome you might cool the burning flames Yet some doat on the superficiall pleasure Loves but for a day Neither how to answer that Religion can I any way determine sure if the world be blind they will have women to bee the Expletive Particle of that Homer They find forth a new way of Imbracements and by the Petulant Method of such wantonings divirgineth Love the feigned stories of Poëtick furie that single soules wandered on the happy bowers of Elizium add this Comment to brighten the Text that the very flowers gorgeously arrayed in fresh Apparellings of summer-triming April wheresoever those Sainted Ladies troad grew up and thence derive their generations who while they immured a little by meditation fell in imbraces with their tender feet as Heliotrops at the morning Apollo Non alia Coeli gaudia amare aut amari Nen alia terrae To love and to be lov'd is the Heaven and earth's Inbile For the Divine Artificer before this World's fabrick was made by the Architectonicall power of his word from the preexistent Chaos had but this solace to live in love and contemplation which is felicity enough and more Perfection then was on this side Heaven Those too fortunate starrs do not appear so welcome to the banquetting devotions of poor Marriners as they are at the entertainment of their owne selves they leap into one body while the one gives halfe of his Immortality to the other and like Hypocrates-twins cryes and laughs lives and dies at one breath Hence for a secret imbrace as Venus her votaries were carried to their Nuptialls like the Roman Ladies in a silken vaile Hercules was voted a Demigod in Love's Registers and had more Treasures of honours entailed upon his valour when he conquered the Monster Women then when hee shook his sharp-darted Lance at the cruellest Hydra What need the Soul seeke stately Divinity if it have but love The Ethnicks vanted Nature in such Hyperbolicall vaporings as if that onely Deity could make them happy What some of their sect whispered forth some spoke aloud 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 What are other things to us yet who wonders at a Panygercik Encomionized in the praise of the Moon with them who never beheld the Sun-beames but such felicity is dormant neither can those high-flown wings soar at the farr stretched eliment of perfection but with one hand pitched up to Heaven like the Boy in the Emblem has the other hand stretched down to Hell The Stoicks happy men whose holy eyes still looked through the windows of light never did adventure so high in towering expressions to make their souls Pinneons mount the top-sphere of felicity they indeed dared to call it a spirit as in some sence dim-twilight reason issuing from dark-Lanthorn Nature shewed them it was separable from the body and Pythagoras before had took his transmigration into a Frog But Love needs not such false Herauldry whose name long since was blazoned on Incarnate Deity and should she again as divine Plato thought of virtue assume a Corporall being the least glance of such a brave Paragon would dazle our Ruffling gallants into the dimest Night of wonder while I my self might Chant this dirge Vt vidi ut Perij The starr-fed Mathematicians would scorn Heaven's illustrious Physiognomy while the long Jacbos-staffe of their desires aimes at their skye-like face The Phylosophers would scorne their thred-bare Coat of Physiology to blazon the rare composure of her Metaphysicall features And the wearied Pilgrim whose weak head is decayed in the Elaborate travells of Religion would sing a Requiem to his journeys and fall in adoration of such a shrine The Poët he â—ells us Jupiter est quodcunque amas Whatsoever wee love is a Godhead to our selves And is it so Then the covetous man who courts his Decoy Gold till it looks Red in anger or when he falls to adore't blusheth at his Idolatry he kisseth Jove in a piece of money Yet for Jupiter was metamorphosed to a golden shower in the attempt of a silver Danae And is it so then the good old man who kist his Cow was Jove in one sence thus was Eurpa dismounted on Cretas florulent Plains by a wanton Bull And is it so Then the epicure devours Jove at his Sumptuous Bacchinalls changed to a Lilly-Swan Yet luxurious in those chaster plumes he sips up Jupiter wantoning with Ganymed in Nectar and Ambrosia The Heathens did deifie the worst of men that they might colour the black aspersions of sad crimes with that pure tincture of innocence because their alligation was made in immutation of those gods thus the fool in the Comedy seeing Jupiter acted in Adultery would needs commit a Rape because Jove did so but love is of a better temper and to falfifie those glories of it's goodnesse by our equality is a piece of folly for the Indians can paint the Divell white that he in those innocent Robes might seeme their God in a higher degree of Perfection indeed the Camelion-as can appear in any colour Thus wee may know divine love all created excellencies shines with borrowed beames for when the Heathens beautified their nature as a Goddesse they went a gathering Hyperbolies in the Poëts gardens to flourish forth that Entity as the Painter run with his bill of Items from one a Cheek from one a Lip from another an Eye to represent the most beautifull Venus she blazeth forth in her own lustres other beauties would but like great blots deface the Coppy or by a tedious Parenthesis check and eclipse so rare a Sunshine I confesse the grunting Epicurians by the vain froth of foamy imaginations would model for their Diana according to their own corruptions but those garlick-pallates sauced with Onionsmells are banished this Respublick as Poëts were who made adulterate their gods from Plato's Idaea for will we new-mold Love in a worse Effigies that were to taeâ— Rurall pleasures for Angelicall dainties Avant Avant such madnesse We will not Court the flint for a flowery arbour whenas we have Hebes to make our downy beds and Love's Ganymeds to attend our Royallties yet here my feeble wings only flutter a Toarage nor can they scan the high pole of it's deserts here like Geographers who in describeing the Terra incognita fill a Map with Antick creatures Monsters and prodigious sights So I must either write Misteries a Rose a Cheek a Christall a Tear a Ruby a Lip a Comet an Eye to describe Love or leave a space to be filled by a better Artist For the stout Aristotelans who thought Sol's Rayes to their Prying curiosities were but atendants and the Plaâ—onicks who raised their flanting wits to a higher bravery by calling his illustrations their shades could never touch the â—igh sphere of this glory like moyling Muck worms they gruffle in the dust and â—o return to their first Nothing which â—mmateriality after annihilation love onely can make immortall The
air Such a darling Dalilah will blind the eyes of Sampson Love and then expose it to scorn of the Worlds Philistims Such a wicked Athenian mounts the high pole of honour by firing the costly state of Love's Diana temple but that verified Axiome of Logicians proves loves glories Nihil dat quod non habet Amor nec habet nec dat malum Things must be ours before we give First breath and then you 'l sur'ly live The Poet durst not uncloath his body least the wind as the Eagle did Ganymed should Rap him into the air but hee I am sure who unloades himself of lust's mantle will then with Eliah fly into Heaven Methinks Plato's philosopher digested dark divinity without the commotion of a recoyling stomack for the glorious Candle of the transparent soul saith he was thrust into the blind-Lanthorn body as a punishment for her Virgin lust O had love bin in those dayes how had these glimmery shadings been dissipated to clear beams how had that Maiden in her gay blushes bin restored to primitive glory for love is not ashamed of her beauties as the proud Corinthian Lais was who broke the looking-glasse at sight of her aged front carved forth with pale wrinkcles Lust indeed may adorn it selfe in royall loves attirement yet no jot the lesse lust for that thus a Parrat in imitation of men may dispute a Syllogisme Persius in excuse to his lisping Satyrs Authoratizeth this Corvos Poëtas Poëtridasque Picas Cantare Credas Pegaseium melos A song is hard yet Daws may easy do it A Crow's an Orator a Goose a Poet. But they conclude like the Roman bird whom the Cobler's Grammer had elegantly taught when by an Extempore speech shee cryed forth Oleum operam perdidi For me to speak is all in vain You loose your labour I get pain Wee delight onely in the fruition of a fair beauty and scorne the Lotteries of Penelope's wooers who flew in a soarage of impossiblity A picture lymned in the brave excellence of gaudy Symetries may perswade the eyes of a gazing Spectatour but not a Lover And he who looks on a Lady onely to observe the fair tablature of her face may as well deate on a Picture Love is the onely Orator whose smiling Rhetorick allures me to the felicious salute of imbraces Here I bring the old Philosopher Socrates to witnesse who would have the very carv'd Effigies painted in the insinuating colours of Love's bravest tinctures how often with his sweet Appellatives in the Schools as if in Venus Gymnasiums hath he styled his Company Formosos auditores such waxen minds on whose melting Amorosities the Signet of his eloquence might make impression So then the flattering Complement of a merry countenance may conquer the fortyfied Ilium of a Regall Lady Hellena may be surprized by a pleasant Robbery without the aemulation of so many Rivalls though once the high ambition of injoying that unheard of form racked Troy in a decimall Torment of fire A mild Heroe may lead Venus a Trophey to his wanton bed as a stern Mâ—rs injoy her in Vulcan's lodgings The dirty Soul of a Clod-pate swaine who knows nothing besides the beautifying of a goodly farm can dive so farr into Royall Loves Cabinet as to snatch the best Pearl he there finds inclosed else our wanton Deity had never wisht for the injoyments of an Iron-side Vulcan but he was mettle to the back and therefore would not stand bent to his work Pray tell me if you do not love how can you think to be happy for love like the Stoicks hath a Domestick Pleropheria an unavoidable happinesse although the felicious Heathens could never reach Summum bonum beyond an imaginary conception Thus by a Piece of Politick Stoicisme can allay the raging infortunes of disquieted passions as the sturdy Rocks quells Neptunes Proud waves and makes them retire worsted Some have canonized men whose radiant works sparkles in the Orient lustre of day beams Aristotle was set up as a Pope in Phylosophy while his sectaries thought other writings but Err a-Patris neither gospel nor law but at Lov 's rich strains rarely interlined with golden notions all nations may fraught their Vessels where the Heaven is made Heaven by it's presence The old Philosopher said other Creatures were writ in Prose but Mans soul was a perfect Poem thus indeed wee read Tully's fidler said his body never danced but when his soul plaid the Lessons and if the soul be in Poësy when love sings consort then 's the best melody give me Poetry musick in words and give me musick Poëâ—ry in sound and what Queen of Shaeba would not hear the wisdom of such a Solomon The Pagans Jupiter was maximus because he was optimus and whatsoever like love would be great must be first good And methinks those all-Religious Romans who tye their tutelary Angels in the large Pantheon with chains of gold did but shadow forth this love though in the form of a golden dart it is entertained in the consecrated Vestry of a Man's heart should we but see this glorious Planet I can then tell how it would move in the Zodiack of our imbraces till by a Chymicall touch of virtue the strict impâ—ings were turned to golden threads Great Aristotle thought his strong drawn Arrow hit the mark when hee gave the definition of love to be one soul in two bodies methinks I might act the Philosopher and say it is two souls in one body but those weak Raptures come short of an Hyperboly This I would say Plato in it's features might see his ravishing virtue exist Incarnate This I would say All the accurate accomplishments in the inferiour World as Cebes his famous piece of morality hung in the curious Temple of Saturn to confesse the greater wisdome of that God are but shadows of this Deity For a little Attome may expresse this great World clouds of perfumes lodg their vast glories in the circumference of a grain a small dath speaks Sol cliâ—enant in the large Meridian and a round O notes the broad fact Moon in a full Orb. In Maps points spells Parnassus and a line great Helicon Methinks it was but a fond vapouring of the Old Pâ—ër and onely fit for the proud vaunts of an undaunted Stoick to say Primos in orbe deos fecit timor 'T was fear at first which did create Gods in their sanctified state With his good leave I would alter the phrase and say Primos in orbe Deos fecit amor 'T was the immortall name of Love Made Gods on earth in Heaven above Love is a great Magician Hence as Inchanters Lovers by shady umbrages and dark representations of a Lady burn themselvs by a sensless Rapture carried by a delusive waf age into the air of fancy Hence beautious eyes like the bewitching Basilisks stupefie the lovers mind till by an unvanquished inflammation of desires with Regulus in his barrell he dyes by looking at those sunny Rayes what else is I pray