delusion and deceit And that the Oracle too true wou'd prove Which thus declar'd the ill effects of Love Num'rous as Athos Hares or Hybla's Swarms Or Olive-berries on the loaden Tree Or as the Shells or Sands are Love's allarms Abounding still with fear and misery For still this fear the wretches entertain Lest all their Love shou'd meet unjust Disdain Of happy Lovers no Records can boast Their bliss was counterfeit or short at most The airy God's unsettled motion shews That Love 's a Tide that always ebbs and flows Go then and trust those dying flames that will Since Love 's a wand'rer and uncertain still Than his own feathers he is lighter far And all his promis'd Faith 's an empty air By Oaths and Vows let no one be betray'd Which vanish in the breath with which th' are made His cheeks now with unusual blushes drest And his quick flight this mighty truth confest And now his fraud his treachery I knew To all his pow'r I bid a last adieu To Thee thou heav'n-born Love my Soul I 'll joyn Be Thou my Darling and let me be Thine While day and night successively return Our mutual fires shall never cease to burn O the sweet balm distilling from each kiss How vast's the pleasure how divine the bliss What new delights thy Love does still disclose She only who enjoys the blessing knows But oh to love or be belov'd of Thee Is the great myst'ry of Felicity And more t'inhance and recommend the joy 'T is such as time does heighten not destroy My Love my Life in Thee all Hybla's Sweets In Thee all Ophir's richest Treasures meet With what repeated Extasies possest We vent our Passions in each others breast O how unspeakable's the bliss to me To lose my self in thoughts of its Eternity This Love is subject to no anxious cares Too blest for troubles too secure for fears In vast Elisiums of delight it feeds Where whitest Lillies deck th'enamell'd Meads Among which Emblems of our pure desires We in chast dalliance quench our mutual fires Bernard in Cant. Serm. 71. Thou who hearest or readest this take care to have the Lillies in thee if thou wouldst have this dweller among the Lillies visit thee I am my Beloved's and his desire is towards me Cant. 7. 10. IV. â— am my Beloved's and his desire is towards me Cant. 7. 10. THro the thick shades of a cool Cypress Grove Weeping I wander'd to bewail my Love â— briny torrent rowl'd along my breast â—nd weighty grief my sinking Sp'irits opprest â—y'd to my back an Ivory Lute I bore â—y sorrows sure Physician heretofore â—ir'd with my grief on a soft Turf I rest â—nd thus unload my over-burthen'd breast Must I my days consume in lonesom grief â—nd no kind Lover timely bring relief â— let that curse attend my enemies â—e they still Strangers to Love's envy'd Bliss For not to love is surely not to live Since Lifes chief blessings we in Love receive The whole design of living is to love And who loves most does best his life improve Bodies of Earth down to their centre move And Seeds of Fire ascend to theirs above So our soft hearts to Love are still inclin'd Urg'd by a violent impulse of mind Ev'n mine too kindled by an innate flame Is eager to deserve a Lovers name But where shall I my blooming love impart Where yield the Virgin-fortress of my heart Shall I descend to a low mortal love I the Companion of â—lest Spirits above Or shall I with inferiour Creatures sport Whom their Creator not disdains to court No no my Soul fix thou thy thoughts on high Thou hast no equal match beneath the Sky My Hymen shall no other Torches bear Than what have each been lighted at a Star Angels shall my Epithalamium sing Conducting me in triumph to their King Him Him alone of all I can approve The noblest object of the purest Love His dear-lov'd Image still salutes my eye Nor can his absence this delight deny No envious distance can prevail to part His dear resembling Impress from my heart With him methinks in sweet discourse I walk Pleas'd with the sound of his imagin'd talk So by strange sympathy the faithful Steel Does the lov'd Pole's magnetick infl'ence feel By whose kind conduct the safe Pylot steers A steddy course till the wish'd Port appears So the fond Hyacinth pursues the Sun Pleas'd at his rise griev'd when his race is done So is He waited on by the pale Moon Who from his beams reflection guilds her own Like these Almighty Love to Thee I flie â—f thou withdraw'st thy face I pine I die O then since all my joys on that depend Let the blest Vision never have an end The Same by another hand A Cypress Grove whose melancholly shade To sute the temper of the sad was made I chose for my retreat there laid me down Hoping my sorrows in my tears to drown They vainly flow'd and now o'rewhelm'd with grief From Musicks charming sounds I sought relief This Song compos'd I strike my Lyre and sing Soft Notes rebounding from each silver string Ah! shall my wasted days no passion crown And must my empty years roul useless on So hard a fate I 'd wish my greatest foes He lives not who the flames of Love ne're knows Stupid his Soul lies hid in darkest night Who is not chear'd with Loves transpiercing light He bears no Image of the God above Whose icy breast 's insensible of Love The pond'rous Earth by'ts proper weight deprest Beneath all other Elements doth rest While pointed Flames do thro the solid mass Force their bright way and unresisted pass So thro the solid lump of Man the Soul Sends forth those fires that do the frame controul And his desires do hurry him away Where-e're those flames do guide th'obedient Clay And now I feel an unknown warmth all o're I burn I melt but know not from what Pow'r These sharp quick fires are urg'd thro ev'ry vein Mingling at once such Pleasure and such Pain Ah! whither will this furious passion drive In vain against Love's raging force we strive Shall my aspiring Soul like vulgar hearts Complain of shameful wounds from Cupid's Darts If I shou'd be embrac'd by mortal arms They 'd fade my Beauties sully all my Charms My rising mind soars vast degrees above Terrestrial Charms they 're much beneath my Love These gross desires my purer Soul disdains She 'll be His Spouse who ev'ry beeing frames Agnes of Rome the wonder and the pride Her Charms to an Ausonian Youth deny'd And in these terms refus'd to be his Bride If I have kindled fires within your breast I cannot grant but pity your request Nor can you justly my refusal blame Since I burn with a much diviner flame For my Creator hath engag'd my heart My Soul from such a Spouse can ne're depart His lovely Image still is in my sight And at this distance He 's my sole delight In absence we converse
loath'd place conspire â—o silence me and hinder your desire â—hall I driv'n far from the Seraphick Choir â—ouch the sweet Nerves of my Caelestial Lire Ah! Fortunes wounded Captive kindly spare My voice has lost its pleasing accents here Sorrow disorders and distorts my face I cannot give my Songs their former grace Shou'd I begin to sing or play 't wou'd be Some doleful Emblem of my misery My thoughts are all on my lost srate intent And close Companions of my Banishment Then why am I desir'd to play or sing Now grief has broke my voice and slackned ev'râ— string Oh! my lov'd Countrey when I think on thee My Lute my Voice my Mind all lose their harmonâ— But if to Thee I happily return Then they shall all rejoyce as much as now thâ— moâ—â— Aug. Medit. cap. 35. â— that I could say such things as the Hymn-singing Choir of Angels How willingly would I powr forth my self in thy praises I charge you O Daughters of Ierusalem if you find my Beloved that you tell him that I am sick of Love Cant. 5. 8. EXTASIES OF THE Enamour'd Soul BOOK the Third I. I charge you O Daughters of Jerusalem if you find my Beloved that you tell him that I am sick of Love Cant. 5. 8. BLest Residents on the bright Thrones above Who are transform'd to the sublimest Love To my Belov'd my restless Passion bear And gently whisper 't in his sacred ear To him my sighs my languishments relate Tell him my flame dissolves me with its heat Tell him I pine beneath Loves torrid Zone As withering Flow'rs before the scorching Sun For scattering round his Darts among the rest He shot himself into my love-sick breast Thro all my flesh the Shaft like Lightning stole And with strange infl'ence seiz'd my melting Soâ— Now in a flame unquenchable I burn Which does my breast t'another Aetna turn If a more full account he wou'd receive For Lovers always are inquisitive Tell him how pale how languishing I look And how I fainted when I wou'd have spoke If he enquires what pace my Feaver moves Oh! tell him I no Feaver feel but Love's Or if he asks what danger 's of my death Tell him I cou'd not tell for want of breath Tell him you bring no message sent by me But a relation of my misery Yet if he questions how in death I look Say how my Beauty has my face forsook Thus then delineate me amidst my woe That he my suff'rings and their cause may know Tell him I lie seiz'd with a deadly swoon A bloodless Corps stretch'd on the naked ground Tell him my eyes swim round my dizzy head And on my breast my feeble hand is laid The Corral of my Lips grows sickly pale And on my Cheeks the withering Roses fail My Veins tho chaf'd have lost their azure hue And this decay shews Nature failing too Nor any signs express remaining life But the worst symptoms sighs that vent my grief And yet I cannot any reason feign Why tho unhurt so often I complain I know not why unless the Tyrant Love Compels me thus his mighty Pow'r to prove This this was sure my sorrows only cause I lov'd yet knew not what a Lover was This from my breast extorted frequent fighs Ad prest the tears from my o'reflowing eyes This was the cause that when I strove to frame Remote discourse it ended with his Name Oh! then Tell the lov'd Object of my thought and eye How I his Martyr and his Victim die Distill'd in Loves Alimbeck I expire Parch'd up like Roses by too warm a fire Or dry'd like Lillies which have long in vain Begg'd the refreshment of a gentle Rain Tell Him the cause of all my grief will prove Without his help my Death for oh 't is LOVâ— Rupert in Cant. Tell him That I am sick of Love thro the great desire I have of seeing his face I endure the weariness of life and I can hardly bear the delay of my present Exile Stay me with flagons comfort me with apples for I am sick of Love Cant 2. 5. II. Stay me with flagons comfort me with apples for I am sick of love Cant. 2. 5. HOw strangely Love dost thou my will controul Thou pleasing Tyrant of my captiv'd Soul Oh! wou'dst thou have thy fiery torment last Slacken its heat for I consume too fast On other hearts imply thy Arrows pow'r For mine alas has now no room for more O spare thy own Artill'ry and my breath For the next shaft comes wing'd with certain Death Oh! I am lost and from my self estrang'd To Love my voice to Love my blood is chang'd From part to part insensibly he stole Till the sly Conqu'ror had subdu'd the whole Alas will no one pity my distress Will neither Earth nor Heav'n afford redress Canst Thou the author of my miseries Canst Thou behold me with relentless eyes Oh! haste you bright Inhabitants above My fellow-patients in this charming Love Rifle the Orchards and disrobe the Fields Bring all the Treasure Natures Store-house yields Bind fragrant Rose-buds to my temples first Then with cool apples quench my fiery thirst These may allay the Feaver of my blood Oh no! there 's nothing nothing does me good Against Loves force what Salve can Roses make Since ev'n themselves may hide the pois'nous Snake And Apples sure can small assistance give In one of them th' Old Serpent did deceive O then to slacken this tormenting fire The Rose of Sharon only I desire And for an Apple to asswage my grief Give it oh give it from the Tree of Life Then strow them gently on my Virgin-bed And as the withering Rose declines its head Compos'd to Death's long sleep my rest I 'll take Dream of my Love and in his arms awake Gislen in Cant. cap. 2. â—t is certainly a good languishment when the Disease is not to Death but Life that God may be glorified by it when that Heat and Feaver does not proceed from a consuming but rather from an improving fire My Beloved is mine and I am his he feedeth among the Lillies Cant. 2. 16. III. â—y Beloved is mine and I am his he feedeth among the Lillies Cant. 2. 16. BLest souls whose hearts burn with such equal fire As never but together will expire â—o your content I wou'd not Crowns prefer â—or all Heav'ns blessings are dilated there â—nd when with equal flames two Souls engage â—hat happy minute is Love's Golden age â—uch bliss I wish'd when Love at first possest â—nd rais'd his Standard in my trembling breast â—ow oft' I pray'd Whene're in Love I burn Grant me great Pow'r to find a just return The God return'd this answer to my pray'r â—ove first that Love its breaches may repair â— it thy will Almighty Love I cry'd â—'inlist a Soldier in thy Wars untry'd 'T is true my fellow-Maids have told me long The promis'd Joys of thy adoring throng But oft' my Nurse acquainted with the cheat Told me 't was all
often spar'd thy conquer'd Foe Less pleas'd to Conquer than to Pardon so No tyrant Passion rages in thy Breast But the meek Dove builds there her peaceful Nest And when thou wou'dst thy height of anger shew A sudden Calm unbends thy threatning brow And thou dost kindly raise the prostrate Foe With the same hand that shou'd have struck thâ— blow Wou'dst thou permit But oh what Eloquencâ— Can with success appear in my defence Yet let me Lord plead for my self and Thee Lest ev'n thy Cause as mine may faulty be â—ord I confess I 've sinn'd but not alone Wilt thou impute a common Guilt to One Thy bare-fac'd Rebels prosper in their sin As if th' Extreme of Vice were meritting Thy brandisht Thunder thou hast oft' laid down And stretch'd a peaceful Olive in its room But ev'ry slip each inadvertency â—s magnify'd t'insuff'rable in me â— am the Mark of ev'ry wounding stroke As if I only did thy wrath provoke This I confess That most of all I do â— hear my Pray'r with my Confession too Accept the good Effects of an ill Cause And pardon sin that gains thee most applause Forgive me Conqu'ror since thou must confess Had I not err'd thy Glory had been less Greg. in 7 cap. Job lib. 8. cap. 23. â—hen God sets Man as a mark against him when Man by sinning has forsaken God But our just Creator set him as a mark against him because he thought him his enemy by his haughtiness Wherefore hidest thou thy face and holdest me for thine enimy Iob. 13. 24. VII Wherefore hidest thou thy face and holdest me for thine enemy Job 13. 24. IS' t my great Error or thy small Respect That I am treated with this cold neglect I thought thy frowns were but dissembled heat And all thy threatning looks an amorous cheat As tender Mothers draw the breast away To urge their pretty Innocents to play Or as the Nurse seems to deny a Kiss To make the fonder suppliant steal the Bliss So I believ'd thou didst avoid my sight Only to heighten my keen appetite But now alas 't is earnest all I find And not pretended Anger but design'd My kind Embrace you coyly entertain As if we never shou'd be Friends again And with such eager haste my presence shun As men from Monsters or Infection run As if my looks wou'd turn you into stone But fear not that the work 's already done So cold you are so senseless of my smart Some Magick sure has petrify'd your heart O let me know what Crime I must deplore That lets me see your dear-lov'd Face no more Why must I Love that Face no longer see That ne're till now once look'd awry on me Sure you believe there 's poyson in my breath Or that my eyes dart unavoided Death Prevent the danger with thy conqu'ring eye Unsheath its Rays and let let'Offender die Or else discharge a frown and strike me dead For more than Death I your Displeasure dread Your eyes are all I wish let them be mine The Sun unmist by me may cease to shine But if depriv'd of them not his faint light Nor all its Objects can reprize my sight Then think my Love with pity and remorse How I am tortur'd by this sad Divorce Think on the pains of unregarded Love And blame their cause if them you disapprove Amb. Apolog. pro David If any of our Servants offend us we are wont not to look upon them If this be thought a punishment among Men how much more with God for you see that God turned away his face from the Offering of Cain O that my Head were Waters and mine Eyes a fountain of Tears that I might weep day and night Ier. 9. 1. VIII O that my Head were Waters and mine Eyes a fountain of Tears that I might weep day and night Jer. 9. 1. OH that my head were one vast source of tears With bubling streams as num'rous as my hairs That grief with inexhaustible supplies Wou'd fill the Cisterns of my flowing eyes Till the fierce torrents which those springs impart Flow down my breast and stagnate round my heart Not all the tears the Royal Psalmist shed With which his Couch was wash'd himself was fed Nor those which once the weeping Mary powr'd To wash the feet of her forgiving Lord Nor those which drown'd the great Apostle's breast Whose boasted Zeal shrunk at th' affrighting Test Nor these nor more than these can e're suffice To cleanse the stains of my Impieties Give me the undiscover'd source of Nile That with sev'n Streams o'reflows th' Aegyptian So Or let Noe's wondrous Deluge be renew'd Till I am drown'd in the impetuous Flood O that these Fountains wou'd their course begin And flow as fast as I made haste to sin The weeping Limbecks never shou'd give o're Till the last drop had empty'd all their store How do I grudge the Clouds their envy'd Rain How wish the boundless Treasures of the Main Then shou'd my Tears like that just motion keep And I shou'd take a strange delight to weép Nor the swift current of my grief forbid Till in the waves this little World were hid Hid as the neighb'ring Valleys are o'respread When the warm Sun melts Pindus snowy head The blest Assyrian found in Jordans Seas A happy Med'cine for his foul Disease â—â—t what kind Torrent will my Cure begin And cleanse my filthier Leprosie of Sin See! from my Saviour's side a stream of Blood â—ll bath my self in that Redeeming Flood â—hat healing Torrent was on purpose spilt â—o wash my stains and expiate all my guilt â—hat ever-flowing Ocean will suffice â—or the defect of my exhausted Eyes Hieron in Jerem. cap. 9. If I were all dissolv'd to Tears and those not only some few drops but an Ocean or a Deluge I should never weep enough The Pains of Hell came about me the snares of Death overtook me Psal 18. 4. IX The pains of Hell came about me the snares of Death overtook me Psal 18. 4. WHile in this sad distress my self I view Methinks I make Actaeon's story true Long I the pleasures of the Wood pursu'd Till like its Beasts my self grew wild and rude I hop'd with Hunting to divert my care But ran at last into the secret Snare Yet to those Woods alas I did not go Whose inn'cent Sports give health and pleasure too I spread no Toils to take the tim'rous Deer Nor aim'd my Javlin at the rugged Bear Happy had I my time so well imploy'd Nor had I been by my own Game destroy'd I had not then mis-spent my youthful days Nor torn my flesh among sharp thorny ways But I alas still ply'd the sparkling Wine That poys'nous Juice of the pernicious Vine And this expos'd me to Loves fatal Dart The false betray'r of my unguarded heart Love not contented with his Bowe alone Has more destructive Instruments than One Nor Wine alone on its own strength depends But uses Arts t'intoxicate its Friend Thus Sampson by his
their lofty heads the Skies Then the pale Flood frightn'd at this Allarm Trembles with dread of the approaching Storm And when the jarring Winds have tost the Sea Whose sev'ral Contests bear a diff'rent sway The parted Ocean suffers a Divorce Driv'n as the Storms the routed Billows force Then a vast Gulph of ruin's opn'd wide And the Ship 's swallow'd in the rapid Tide Or if born on a Tenth imposthum'd Wave The breaking bubble proves its watry Grave Thus the false Ocean treach'rously beguiles And thus in frowns end its deceitful smiles But I suspected not the wheedling Main Nor did of its inconstancy complain I ne're the fury of the Winds did blame Nor on the Tempests boisterous rage exclaim Nor curst the hardy wretch that led the way And taught the world to perish in the Sea My Vessel ne're lanch'd from my native shoar Nor did the Navigator's Art explore I study'd not the Chard nor gave my mind To learn to tack and catch the veering Wind. Too soon these Artists of their skill repent And perish by the Arts they did invent My Life 's the Sea whose treach'ry I declare My self the Vessel toss'd and shipwreck'd there All the loud Storms of the insulting Wind Are restless Passions of my troubled Mind Thus harast in this fluctuating state I pass thro strange Vicissitudes of Fate Deceitful Life whose false serenity Chang'd in a moment ends in misery Thou want'st no sweet allectives to betray But shew'st a charming Beauty ev'ry day While Love and Lust wreck our lost mind within No dang'rous Sands no Rocks without are seen But when a Tide of Vice breaks fiercely in And beats the Soul on fatal Shelves of Sin Then it perceives in what a vast Abyss Sunk by the weight of its own Crimes it lies Oh! that at least like wretched drowning men These sinking Souls wou'd rise and float agen That while their grosser parts do downward move Their pure Devotion wou'd remain above But just as men to whom th' Earths gaping Womb Becomes at once their Murth'rer and their Tomb Or as the wretch beneath some falling Rock At once is kill'd and bury'd with the shock So fare the men by sins swift current born Thoughtless of Heav'n by Heav'n th' are left forlorn See Lord how I with Wind and Tide engage While on each hand a threatning War they wage See how my head is bow'd unto the Grave While I am forc'd to court the drowning Wave Seest thou my Soul lost in a double Death And wilt thou not reprieve my flitting breath Behold O Lord behold and pity me And leave me not to perish in the Sea Be thou my Pylot and my motion guide Then I shall swim in spight of Wind and Tide Ambr. Apolog. post pro David cap. 3. The multitude of our Lusts raise a mighty Tempest which so tosses them that sail in the Ocean of the body that the mind cannot be its own Pylot Oh! that thou would'st hide me in the Grave that thou would'st keep me Secret untill thy wrath be past Iob. 14. 13. XII â—h that thou would'st hide me in the Grave that thou would'st keep me secret until thy wrath be past Job 14. 13. WHo who will grant me a secure retreat Where I may shun thy furies scorching â— heat â—hose piercing flames whene're I call to mind â—ear I can no safe concealment find â—en I desire the covert of the Wood â—here only Beasts range for their savage Food â—en in Earth's Womb wou'd hide my fearful â— head â— in some Rock make my unminded bed Then ev'n by Death I wish my self to save And court the dark recesses of the Grave Or far remote from the fair Orbs of Light Wou'd in thick Darkness dwell and endless Nighâ— When the loud Thunder rouls along the Sky Men to the Lawrels shelter trembling fly In vain alas they hope Protection thence The helpless Tree proves not its own Defence Much less can that a place of Refuge be From an all-seeing angry Deity Thy eyes the closest Solitudes invade And pierce and pry into the darkest shade The wretch who took his Ruin from a Tree In vain with Leaves wou'd hide his shame frâ— Thee For while to shun thy presence he assay'd Ev'n his absconding his offence betray'd In vain alas to Caves and Dens we run We carry with us what we strive to shun The Den that did the Hebrew Captive save When He was freed prov'd his Accusers Grave Nor was Lot's Incest hidden in his Cave As much in vain we court the Earths dark Womb And fly for shelter to the silent Tomb Vengeance ev'n thither will our flight pursue And rise to punish the black ills we do Thus vainly Cain stopt righteous Abel's breath The mouth of Blood was opned by his Death Thus vainly Jonas in the Sea conceal'd His faithless flight ev'n by the Sea reveal'd His living Tomb obey'd Heav'ns great command And cast him back to the forsaken Land A brittle Faith is all the glassy Sea can boast Whose pervious Waves betray what they shou'd cover most Nor can we hope concealment in a Tomb That casts our bones from its o're-burthen'd Womb. In Rocks and Caves we must no trust repose For their own sound the secret will disclose And Leaves and Trees themselves alike will fade And then expose what they were meant to shade Nor Sea nor Land nor Cave nor Den nor Wood Nor Stars nor Heav'n it self can do me good Thou Lord alone canst hide my fearful head Where I no Veng'ance not ev'n Thine can dread Amb. in Jerem. cap. 9. Whither O Adam have thy transgressions led thee that thou shunn'st thy God whom before thou sought'st That Fear betrays thy Crime that Flight thy Prevarication XIII Are not my days few cease then and let me alone that I may bewail my self a little Iob. 10. 20. XIII Are not my days few Cease then and let me alone that I may bewail my self a little Job 10. 20. MUst a few minutes added to my days Be thought a favour beyond thanks or praise Ages indeed might well deserve that name And render my Ingratitude to blame But the increase of a few days to come How little adds it to the slender sum As well the Infant that but treads the Stage Is said to leave it in a good old Age. As well poor Insects may be said to live To whom their Birth-day does their Fun'ral give So fading Flow'rs their hasty minutes count Whose longest hours scarce to one day amount Flow'rs in the morning Boys at noon-tide Men At night with age feeble as Boys agen Thus in one short-liv'd day they bloom and die And all the diff'rence of Mans ages try Wou'd Times o're-hasty Wheels their motion stay And the swift hours not post so fast away The Insects then might lengthen too their Song And the Flow'rs boast their day had been so long But Time is ever hastning to be gone And like a Stream the Year glides swiftly on Successive Months
with Charms abound To make decay'd old flesh seem young and sound With Spanish-wool red as the blooming Rose And Cerusse whiter than the Mountain Snows With all the Arts that studious Virgins know Who on their Beauty too much pains bestow Then I 'd correct each error by my Glass Till not one fault were found in all my face If on my brow one hair amiss I spy'd How wou'd I fret till it were rectify'd If my complexion were not always right ' Twou'd be a Nuisance to my troubled sight If any motion did contract my brow I shou'd believe Time did my forehead plough Ev'n with each Mole t' offend thee I shou'd fear If of my Beauty thou hadst any care If in my face the smallest Wart shou'd rise I fear 't wou'd seem a Mountain in your eyes And the least fault to me wou'd great appear Lest it shou'd prove offensive to my Dear And every Grace which Nature has deny'd By Art's kind help shou'd amply be supply'd With Tow'rs and Locks I wou'd adorn my head And thick with Jewels my curl'd tresses spread With double Pearls I 'll hang my loaded ears While my white neck vast Chains of Rubies weaâ—â— Thus I among the fairest will be seen And dare vie Beauty ev'n with Sheba's Queen But oh no such vain toys affect your mind â—hese meet with no admirers but the blind â—ho in a Dress seek Objects of their love â—hich once put off the Beauty does remove â—hus the fond Crowd's caught by a gay attire â—he only thing indeed they find t' admire But You my Love no borrow'd Beauties prize â—o artificial Charms attract your eyes â—ear as your own you rate a spotless heart â—nd for its sake accept each other part Oh that my heart unspotted were and free â—rom every tincture of impurity â—hen in your favour I shou'd make my boast And hate each stain by which it might be lost Hugo de S. Vict. in Arrha animae â— base and filthy spots why do you stick so long Be gone depart and presume no more to offend my Beloved's sight Come my Beloved let us go forth into the Fields let us lodge in the Villages Cant. 7. 11. VII Come my Beloved let us go forth into the Fields let us lodge in the Villages Cant. 7. 11. COme come my Love let 's leave the busie throng We trifle there our precious time too long Come let us hasten to some lonely Grove The fittest Theatre for Scenes of Love Strong Walls and Gates the City guard 't is true But what secures it thus confines it too We 'll reap the pleasures of the open Field Which does security with freedom yield What tho the City-Tow'rs the Clouds invade And o're the Fields project their lofty shade Yet thence Content has made a far retreat And chose the humble Cottages its seat And the remotest Solitude enjoys The blessing of more quiet and less noise Come then my Love and let 's retire from hence And leave this busie fond impertinence See! ev'n the Cities eldest Son and Heir Who gets his Gold his dear-lov'd Idol there Yet in the Countrey spends his City-gains And makes its pleasures recompence his pains And tho the City has his publick voice The Countrey ever is his private choice Here still the Rich the Noble and the Great Unbend their minds in a secure retreat And Heav'ns free Canopy yields more delight Than guilded Roofs and Fret-work to the sight Nor can fenc'd Cities keep the mind in peace So well as open guardless Villages Come then my Love let 's from the City haste Each minute we spend there is so much waste I have a Countrey-Farm whose fertile ground Soft murmuring Brooks and chrystal Streams surround A better Air or Soil were never known Nor more convenient distance from the Town Hither my Love if thou wilt take thy flight The City will no more thy sense delight Driv'n from thy thoughts as quickly as thy sight Here in the shades I will my Dear caress At leisure to receive my kind Address Here from the City and its Tumults free I shall enjoy more than my self in Thee No bus'ness shall invade our pleasure here No rude disturber of our sports appear Here thou thy secret passion shalt reveal And whisper in my ear the pleasing tale While in requital I disclose my flame And in the fav'ring Shades conceal my shame Here like kind Turtles we will bill and cooe For here to love is all we have to do Oh! cou'd I see that happy happy day I know no bliss beyond for which to pray Then to the Countrey let us Dear repair For Love thrives best in the clear open air Hieron Ep. ad Hesiod 1. What dost thou how long do the shadows of the houses confine thee how long does the Prison of the smoaky City shut thee up Believe me I see some greater Light and am resolv'd to throw off the burthen of the Flesh and fly to the splendor of the purer air Draw me wee will run after thee in the Savour of thy Oyntments Cant. 1. 3. VIII Draw me we will run after thee in the savour of thy Oyntments Cant. 1. 3. SEe how my feeble Limbs now giv'n in vain Increase the burthen which they shou'd sustain â—hile weary of my hated life I lie â— faint resemblance of what once was I. â—y head deprest with its own weight hangs low â—nd to themselves my Limbs a burthen grow â— various postures still I seek for ease â—ut find at last not any one to please â—ow I wou'd rise now wish my self in bed â—ow with my hands support my drooping head â—ow on my back now on my face I lie â—nd now for rest on either side I try â—nd when my bed I 've tumbled restless o're â—â— still th' uneasie wretch I was before Thus hinder'd by my own Infirmity Tho fain I wou'd I cannot follow thee Then wilt thou go and leave me destitute Canst thou not stay at least to hear my suit Thus Soldiers from their wounded Comrades fly At an allarm of any danger nigh Unnat'ral Mothers thus their Babes disclaim Urg'd to the sin by poverty or shame Stretch Lord thy hand and thy weak follower me Or if not reach thy hand yet stay thy feet The grateful Stork bears o're the spacious Floâ— Its aged Dam and triumphs in the load The Doe supports her tender swimmers weight And minds her self less than her dearer fraight But You fair fugitive forsake your Love And shun the burthen you shou'd most approve Yet I 'll not hinder or retard your haste If you but draw me I shall follow fast And tho now bedrid in a little space I 'll rise and move along a Lover's pace Nor shall you need a Whip to drive me on Free and unurg'd close at your back I 'll run As when at your command the Net was thrown The eager Fish did gladly to it run And unconcern'd their own destruction sought So much 't was their ambition
voice supriz'd my trembling ear And call'd Rise sluggard see your Love 's not heâ— Straight I awake and rub my sleepy eyes Then the forsaken house I fill with cries Sleep'st thou my Love but answer I had no For He alas to whom I spoke was gone Soon with a lighted torch his steps I trace And wish I ne're had seen them nor his face Then on the guiltless Bed begin t'exclaim Ask where my Love is and its silence blame Distracted then I search the Chamber round But what I sought was no where to be found What tumults then were rais'd within my breast Who once on Peace's downy Bed did rest What rageing storms then tost my troubled minâ— Unus'd to Tempests of that boistrous kind With pain my heavy eyes to Heav'n I raise And scarce my lips can open in its praise My former strength in sacred Conflicts fails And what was once my sport my Soul bewails For while success crown'd my untroubled head On Golden Peace I made my easie Bed Then like a boasting Soldier raw and young Who always is victorious with his tongue I wish'd to exercise some Tyrant's rage Or in some glorious hazard to engage So warm a heat within my blood did play While on the easie bed of Peace I lay But when this heat forsook me with my Love Colder than Scythian Frosts my Blood did prove So Flow'rs which gentle Zâ—phyrs kindly rear Nipt by cold Frosts decay and disappear So Lamps burn bright while th' Oyl maintains theiâ— fire But as that ceases languish and expire Alas my Love I sought thee in our Bed Who on the Cross hadst laid thy weary head Peace was my Bed while the curst Cross was Thiâ— I shou'd have sought Thee by that fatal sign Much time I lost in seeking thee around But sought thee where thou wert not to be found Greg. in Ezek. hom 19. â—e seek our Beloved in Bed when in any little rest of this present life we sigh with a desire of our Redeemer We seek him by night because tho now the Mind is watchful in him yet the Eye still is dark I will rise and go about the City in the Streets and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my Soul loveth I sought him but I found him not Cant. 3. 2. XI I will rise and go about the City in the streets and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my Soul loveth I sought him but I found him not Cant. 3. 2. AT last tho late my error does appear Had I search'd well I sure had found my Dear â— thought him wrapt in soft repose in Bed â—asing his troubled breast and thoughtful head â—t there alas my Love I cou'd not find â—o such indulgence was for him design'd Alas my Life alas what shall I do â—ow can I rest or sleep depriv'd of You â—o tho a thousand Rivers murmuring noise â—ou'd court me to it with one lulling voice â—or tho as many whisp'ring Groves conspire â—d joyn the Musick of their feather'd Cheir. Scarce do I close my weary eyes to sleep When grief injoyns me a strict watch to keep My eyes no night no night my thoughts do know Or if they do each tedious hour seems two If ever sleep indulge my misery My sleeping thoughts are all imploy'd on Thee Why then shou'd wretched I desire repose Since sleep no other benefit bestows My Bed I quit and ranging all the Town move as chance or reason leads me on Each corner search and hope in each to find The dearest Object of my eyes and mind No place escapes me none so private lies To cheat th'enquiry of my curious eyes The eager Hound thus close his Game pursues While the warm scent directs his ready nose Thro Woods and Thickets Briâ—rs and Thorns he ruâ— No danger dreads or inconvenience shuns Thus once the weeping Magdalen did roam To find her Lord when missing in his Tomb. What that denies she hopes the City yields But there not found she seeks him in the Fields No man unask'd no place unsearch'd remain'd â—ill the dear Treasure which she sought was gaind â—hus the griev'd Dam for her robb'd Nest complains And fills the Forest with her mournful strains â—bout the Tree enrag'd she flies and now â—ights on the top now takes her seat below â—hen to her fellows sadly does relate â—h ' injurious stealth and her lost Off-springs Fate â—hus have I search'd thro ev'ry lane and street â—ut what I sought alas I cou'd not meet â—ase lanes and hateful streets whose ev'ry road â—â—y weary feet so oft in vain have trod â— mist my Love in bed and sought him there â—ut sought amiss and still must want my Dear Amb. de Virg. lib. 3. â—hrist is not found in the Courts nor in the Streets Christ is no frequenter of the Courts Christ is Peace in the Courts are Contentions Christ is Justice in the Courts is Iniquity c. Let us shun the Courts let us avoid the streets Saw you him whom my Soul loveth It was but little that I past from them but I found him whom my Soul loveth I held him and would not let him go Cant 3. 3. 4 XII â—aw you him whom my Soul loveth It was but a little that I past from them but I found him whom my Soul loveth I held him and wou'd not let him go Cant. 3. 3 4. IS there a corner left in all the Town Which in my weary search I have not known With lighted torches every street was bright Nor did I ev'n the meanest alleys slight Alas what ground did I not travel o're Till ev'n the City had not any more But why shou'd I this fruitless toil approve â—ince all my seeking does not find my Love Then hopeless back my pensive course I steer'd But still no tidings of my Lover heard When I at last approach'd the City-gate There a strong Guard in constant Watch did wait Said I Perhaps my Love is hidden here And then I ask'd them if they saw my Dear They laugh'd and my enquiry did deride And whose your Love one of the Centries cry'd Has he no name by which he may be known How can we tell since you have giv'n us none Excuse said I my rude simplicity I thought him known to all the World as me And that our Love so much the talk of Fame Had made it needless to declare his name And tho you wou'd pretend this ign'rance now I 'm consident you cannot choose but know Then pray be pleas'd in earnest to declare If you have seen him lately passing here Him whom above my Life I dearly prize And Him who values me above his eyes Say when he went what stay he made with you And whither he pretended he wou'd go Took he the right-hand or the left-hand way Was he alone or had he company The sportful Watch regardless of my cares Answer with laughter and deride my tears From them I go hopeless my Love to find While Tides of woe
o'rewhelm'd my sinking mind But while my thoughts were thus opprest with grief And nothing hop'd less than such blest relief My Love the same I sought the City round Now unexpected and unsought was found Lost between joy and fear in the surprize I durst not well give credit to my eyes And have I thee again I wou'd have cry'd But as I strove my faultring tongue deny'd As when some frightned Wife sees by her bed Her Husband long by fame reported dead Amaz'd to see what she had giv'n for lost She flies his touch and takes him for a Ghost Nor dares she till by his known voice assur'd The sight of what she most desires endure And still she fears lest she too easie prove Betray'd to this credulity by Love Thus while I trembling stand again I try Again my Life salutes my joyful eye Tost between doubt and hope and love and fear Are you my Love I cry or in his shape appear My Dear ah no! alas you are not He Yet sure you are Yes yes you are I see My Love my Life I see and know you now My secret Ecstasie discovers you Pleas'd with your voice and ravish'd with your face I fly unask'd to your belov'd embrace Thus thus I 'll bind you to me and prevent A second search the Soldiers merriment O that my arms were Chains and each part else Feet hands and all were Gives and Manacles Then with a triple band my Love I 'd bind Close as the Elm is by the Vine entwin'd The snaky Ivy does not closer crawl About the ruins of its dear-lov'd Wall And while my busie hands your neck inclose Think that no burthen which their kindness shews Remember Love you have been absent long And time that did it must repair the wrong But of the recompence you soon complain And e're my Joys commence are gone again But hold you must not think to fly me so First force your way and if you conquer go Beda in Cant. cap. 3. When I had found him I held him so much the faster by how much the longer I was in finding him But it is good for me to hold me fast by God to put my trust in the Lord God Psal. 73. 27. XIII But it is good for me to hold me fast by God to put my trust in the Lord God Psal 73. 27. THro what strange turns of fortune have I past Just as a Ball from hand to hand is tost Wars loud allarms were first my sole delight And hope of Glory led me out to fight Arms rais'd my courage Arms were all my care As if I had no other bus'ness here Oft' with a Song I past my tedious hour While I stood Centry on some lofty Tow'r Oft' I the Enemies designs betray'd And shew'd their motions by the signs I made I learnt t' intrench a Camp and Bulwarks rear With all the skill of a good Engineer I ever forward was and bold in fight And did to action the faint Troops excite None better understood the Arts of War None more the Soldiers or Commanders care Oft' in the Lybian Desarts did I sweat Tir'd with the Sand and melted with the heat Choak'd with the dust yet not a River nigh The place as little moisture had as I. How oft' have I swam mighty Rivers o're With heavy Armour loaden tir'd and sore And still my Sword across my mouth I laid Whene're I did the adverse stream invade Thus long the Camp has had my company A Footman first now of the Cavalry My Breast-plate has ten shots of Arrows born And with no less my Head-piece has been torn Thrice was My Horse shot under me my Crest Four times struck off and I as oft' distrest Yet boldly I expos'd my self to harm And in my En'mies blood my hand was warm But on my back I did no wounds receive My ready breast met all my Foes durst give For boldly against Fire and Sword I stood And flights of Arrows which the Sky did cloud On heaps of men slain by my Sword I trod And as I mov'd my way with Corps I strow'd But yet the man that did these Conquests gain Cou'd not with all his pow'r his wish obtain With all his Lawrels won and Foes o'recome His Crowns deserv'd and Trophies too brought home One fault did all his former Triumphs blast And blotted out their memory at last The General cashier'd me with a word And o're my head broke my once useful Sword And thus in publick scorn my Fame expir'd With the dear purchace of my Blood acquir'd O my dear God! had I born arms for Thee Thy favour had not thus deserted me All my desires are firmly plac'd on Thee And there secure as Ships at Anchor lie Behind thy Altar then I 'll lay my Arms And bid a long adieu to War's allarms But soon my mind on Gain was all intent Gain to my thoughts such sweets did represent A Ship I bought which when I fraighted well Abroad I steer'd to purchase and to sell In both the Indies I expos'd my Ware No Port was known but I had trafique there For from small Ventures large Acquests to gain Was all the busie study of my brain Wealth now came flowing in with such a Tide It wou'd not in my straitned Chests abide My Ships came loaden from the Indian-shoar But next return they perish'd at my door My Books with Debtors names still larger grew But they forswore and so I lost my due And thus like Salt my Wealth got by the Sea Did in the place of its acquest decay How peaceful is the man and how secure Whom War did ne're delight nor Gain allure No more shall Gain my cheated fancy please That cannot purchace one short minutes ease What shall I do since my attempts are vain In War no Fame in Trade no Wealth I gain Then to the Court I hastily repair My Fame as soon finds kind reception there I 'm brought before the King and kiss his hand He likes my Person gives me a Command Now grown his Fav'rite I have all his ear Whate're I speak he eagerly does hear And to new Honors does me still advance Not the effect of merit but of chance But whether his mistake or my desert I am indear'd and wound into his heart Oft' in discourse we spent the busie day And ne're regarded how it past away Nay without me he wou'd not play nor eat My presence gave a relish to his meat No Fav'rite e're was dearer to his Prince No Prince such Favours ever did dispense â—â—janus rul'd not thus his Master's heart â—is wary Lord allow'd him but a part â—or Clytus self cou'd greater Honors have â—ho the Worlds Conqu'ror was almost his Slave â—is new advancement pleas'd my thoughts 't is true For there are secret charms in all things new The Courtiers envy and the Crowds admire To see the King my company desire But oh on Kings 't is folly to depend Whose Pow'r much more their Favours
delight is wanting on this Coast Ha! Said I no delight was wanting here Yes you want All alas you want my Dear Farewell you Stars and you bright Forms adieu My bus'ness here was with my Love not you There 's nothing good below without my Love Nor any thing worth a faint Wish above One World subdu'd the Conqu'ror did deplore That niggard Fate had not allow'd him more My vaster thoughts a thousand Worlds despise Nor lose one wish on such a worthless prize Not all the Universe from Pole to Pole Heav'n Earth and Sea can fill my boundless Soul What neither Earths wide limits can contain Nor the large Empire of the spreading Main Nor Heav'n whose vaster Globe does both inclose â—hat's the sole Object my ambition knows â—ill now alas my Soul at shadows caught â—nd always was deceiv'd in what it sought â—hou Lord alone art Heav'n Earth Sea to me â—hou Lord art All all nothing without Thee Aug. Solil cap. 20. â—hatever is contained within the compass of Heaven is beneath the Soul of Man which was made to enjoy the chiefest Good above in whose possession alone it can be happy Wo is me that I am constrained to dwell with Mesech and to have my habitation among the tents of Kedar Psal. 120. 4. VII â—o is me that I am constrained to dwell with Mesech and to have my habitation among the tents of Kedar Psal 120. 4. Till does the Sun with usual motion steer The revolutions of the circling Year Gibeons wondrous Solstice is renew'd â—â—en at the mighty Joshua 's beck he stood â— sure his motion 's become retrograde â— â—nce he turn'd the Hebrew Dial's shade â—hy else shou'd I who now am past the age â—ow'd to tread this Worlds unhappy Stage â—y shou'd I be deny'd an Exit now â—e play'd my part and have no more to do â—here on Earth a Blessing to repair â— injurious force of my detainâ—r there â—â— wou'd I welcom any fav'ring death â—ease me of the burthen of my breath By one sure stroke kind Fate my soul reprieve For 't is continual dying here to live Here our chief bliss is an uncertain Joy Which swift vicissitudes of ill destroy Just as the Sun who rising bright and gay In Clouds and Show'rs concludes the weeping day So boisterous gusts oft' tender Flow'rs invade By tempting winds too soon abroad betray'd Here envious of each others settlement All things contend each other to supplant The second minute drives the first away And Night 's impatient to succeed the Day The eager Summer thinks the Spring too long And Autumn frets that Summer is not gone But Autumn 's self to Winter must give way Lest its cold Frosts o'retake and punish his delay Behold you Sea how smooth without a frown See while I speak how curl'd how rough 't is grown Look how serene's the sky how calm the air Now hark it thunders round the Hemisphere This great Inconstancy of human state Corrupts each minute of our happy fate But oh the worst of ills is still behind The rav'nous converse with our beastly kind â—â—re Nature first in anger did intend A plague of Monsters o're the world to send Then brought forth her most brutish Off-spring Men And turn'd each house into a savage den â—â— this rapacious species we may find All that 's destructive in the preying kind Lion Wolf Tyger Bear and Crocodile Strong to devour and cunning to beguile These Beasts are led to prey by appetite And that once pleas'd in no more blood delight But Man like Hell has an insatiate thirst And still is keenest when so full to burst This raises Fraud makes Treach'ry fine and gay While banish'd Justice flies disrob'd away This fills the world with loud allarms of War And turns the peaceful Plough-share to a hostile Spear Who wou'd be slave to such a Tyrant-life That still engages him in noise and strife Long since alas I did my years compleat And serv'd for freedom still deny'd by Fate When I compute to what a price amount My mis-spent days I 'm bankrupt in th' account Oh! what strange frenzy does those men possess Who rashly deem long life a happiness They sure are strangers to the Joys above Who more than Home a wretched Exile love But Heav'n's remote and its far-distant bliss Appears minute to our mistaken eyes Ah! why my Countrey art thou plac'd so far That I am still a tedious wanderer Happier the Exiles of old Heathen Rome Whom only Tyber did divide from home While to remoter banishment design'd A vast Abyss 'twixt Heav'n and me I find The Hebrew slaves in Harvest were set free My Harvest 's come why not my Liberty The swift fore-runner of the welcom Spring Finds after Winters cold a time to sing She who did long in dark recesses lie Now flys abroad and re-salutes the Sky But I still live excluded from above Deny'd the Object of my Bliss and Love Haste haste my God and take me up to Thee There let me live where I was made to be Aug. Serm. 43. There are two tormentors of the Soul which do not torture it together but by turns Their names are Fear and Grief When it is well with you you fear when ill you grieve O wretched man that I am who shall deliver me from the body of this death Rom. 7. 24. VIII O wretched man that I am who shall deliver me from the body of this death Rom. 7. 24. WHere are the lost delights for which I grieve But which my sorrows never shall retrieve Such vast delights but mention not the loss Whose sad remembrance is thy greatest cross And fate is kindest when it robs us so To take away our sense of suffering too On our first Parents folly we exclaim As if They only were as first to blame On Eve and Adam we discharge our rage And thus expose our naked Parentage But I alas condemn not them alone Nor while I mind their fall forget my own With Eve I was consenting to the cheat Impos'd on Adam and helpt him to eat Hence I my nakedness and shame deriv'd And skins of Beasts to cover both receiv'd And from my forfeit Eden justly driv'n The curse of Earth and the contempt of Heav'n Nor do I now the general loss bemoan My grief 's deficient to bewail my own The tragick story from my Birth I 'll take For early grief did my first silence break 'T was Julyes month the gratefull'st of the year Tho all my life December did appear The Twenty-seventh Oh! had it been my last I had not mourn'd nor that made too much haste That was the fatal day that gave me breath Which prov'd almost my teeming Parent 's death And still as then to her alas I 've been A true Benoni not a Benjamin No sooner was I for the Cradle drest But a strange horror all around possest Who with one dire prophetick voice presage Th' attending mis'ries of my growing age Why didst thou give me
As the chas'd Hart for the refreshing stream Cyril in Joan. lib. 3. cap. 10. It is an excellent water that allays the pernicious thirst of this world and the heat of Vice that washes off all the stains of sin that waters and improves the Earth in which our Souls inhabit and restores the mind of man that thirsts with an earnest desire to its God When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal. 42. 2. XII When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal 42. 2. WIth promis'd Joys my ears thou oft' didst fill But they are only Joys of promise still Didst thou not say thou soon wou'dst call me home Be just my Love and kindly bid me come Expecting Lovers count each hour a day And death to them 's less dreadful than delay A tedious train of months and years is gone Since first you bid me hope yet gave me none Why with delays dost thou abuse my love And fail my vain expectancies above While thus th' insulting Crowd derides my woe Where 's now your Love how well he keeps his Vow Haste then and home thy longing Lover take If not for mine yet for thy promise sake When shall I come before thy Throne and see Thy glorious Scepter kindly stretch'd to me For Thee I pine for Thee I am undone As drooping Flow'rs that want their Parent Sun O cruel tort'rer of my wounded Soul Grant me thy presence and I shall be whole O when thou Joy of all admiring eyes When shall I see thee on thy Throne of bliss As when unwelcom night begins its sway And throws its sable mantle o're the day The withering glories of the Garden fade And weeping Groves bewail their lonely shade To melancholly silence men retire And no sweet Note sounds from the feather'd Choir But hardly can the dawning morn display The welcom Ensigns of th' approaching day But the glad Gardens deck themselves anew And the cheer'd Groves shake off their heavy Dew To early homage Man himself devotes And Birds in Anthems strain their tuneful throats So without Thee I grieve I pine I mourn So triumph so revive at Thy return But Thou unkind bidst me delight my eyes With other Beauties other Rarities Sometimes thou bidst me mark the flow'ry Field What various scents and shews its Pastures yield Then to the Stars thou dost direct my sight For they from Thine derive their borrow'd light Then saist Contemplate Man in Him thou 'lt see The great resemblance of thy Love and Me. Why wou'dst thou thus deceive me with a shade A trifling Image that will quickly fade My fancy stoops not to a mortal aim Thou thou hast kindled and must quench my flame O glorious Face worthy a Pow'r Divine Where Love and Awe with equal mixture shine Triumphant Majesty of that bright Ray Where blushing Angels prostrate homage pay We in thy Works thy fix'd impressions trace Yet still but faint reflections of thy Face When this inchanted World 's compar'd with Thee It s boasted Beauty 's all deformity Thy Stars no such transcending glories own As Thine whose light exceeds all theirs in one This truth some one of them can best declare Who on the Mount thy blest spectators were Who on Thy Glories were allow'd to gaze And saw Heav'n opned in Thy wondrous Face Nor can we blame thy great Apostle's Zeal To whom thou didst that happy sight reveal That slighting all things heretofore most dear Was all for building Tabernacles there Yet he beheld Thee then within a Veil The killing Rays thou kindly didst conceal He saw a lambent flame thy Face surround Thy Temples with a dazling Glory crown'd How had he wondred at the nobler Light Whose bare Reflection was so heav'nly bright But oh That 's inaccessible to humane sight Then me oh me to that blest state receive Where I may see thee all and seeing live When will that happy day of Vision be When I shall make a near approach to Thee Be wrapt in Clouds and lost in Mystery 'T is true the Sacred Elements impart Thy virt'ual presence to my faithful heart But to my sense still unreveal'd thou art This tho a great is an imperfect bliss T' embrace a Cloud for the bright God I wish My Soul a more exalted pitch wou'd sly And view Thee in the heights of Majesty Oh! when shall I behold Thee all serene Without an envious cloudy Veil between When distant Faith shall in near Vision cease And still my Love shall with my Joy increase That happy day dear as these Eyes shall be And more than all the dearest things but Thee Aug. in Psal 42. â—f thou sindest any thing better than to behold the face of God haste thee thither Wo be to that love of thine if thou dost but imagine any thing more beautiful than He from whom all Beauty that delights thee is derived O that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal. 55. 6. XIII â— that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal 55. 6. THo great Creator I receive from Thee All that I am and all I hope to be â—et might this humble Clay expostulate â— wou'd complain of my defective state To Man th' ast given the boundless Regency Of three vast Realms the Ocean Earth and Sky But oh how shall this ample Pow'r be try'd When still the means to use it are deny'd Pardon my hasty censure of thy skill Who think thy mighty Work defective still Nor am I forward to correct thy Art By wishing man a Casement in his heart Whose dark recesses all the world might see That prospect justly is reserv'd for Thee But the defect I mourn is greater far His want of Wings to bear him thro the Air. Inferiour Creatures no perfection want To hinder their enjoyment of Thy grant The scaly Race have nimble Fins allow'd With which they range about their native Flood And all the feather'd Tenants of the Air Born up on tow'ring Wings expatiate there Thus ev'ry Creature finds a blest content Adapted to its proper Element But Man for the command of all design'd Is still to One injuriously confin'd While Nature often is extravagant And gives his Subjects more than what they want Some of the watry kind we know can fly And visit when they please the lofty Sky And in exchange some of the aëry brood Descend and turn bold Pirates in the Flood While still to Man Heav'n does all means deny To exercise his vain Authority Ev'n buzzing Insects with light wings are blest â—n whose small frame Heav'n has much art exprest But Man the great the noble Master-piece Wants a perfection that abounds in these Nay some the meanest of the feather'd kind For neither profit nor delight design'd Stretch their Dominions to a vast extent Nor pleas'd with Two range a third Element Sometimes on Earth they walk with stately pace And sport and