Thus those celestial fires, Though seeming mute, The fallacy of our desires, And all the pride of life, confute. For they have watched since first And found sin in itself accursed, And nothing permanent on earth. NON NOBIS DOMINE.-DAVID. No marble statue, nor high To lose its head within the sky! Thou in a moment canst defeat The mighty conquests of the proud, How can the feeble works of art Hold out against th' assault of storms? Or how can brass to him impart Sense of surviving fame, whose heart Blind folly of triumphing pride! Eternity, why build'st thou here? That tide which did its banks o'erflow, To level vastest buildings low, And thou who, to preserve thy name, Leav'st statues in some conquered land, How will posterity scorn fame, When th' idol shall receive a maim, How wilt thou hate thy wars, when he Perhaps thought worthier praise! No laurel wreath about my brow! To thee, my God, all praise, whose law The conquered doth, and conqueror bow! For both dissolve to air, if Thou Thy influence but withdraw. QUID GLORIARIS IN MALICIA ?-DAVID. SWELL no more, proud man, so high! In a vault thou dust must lie. He who is lifted up by vice, Dazzling his distorted eye. Shallow is that unsafe sea Over which you spread your sail, And the bark you trust to, frail As the winds it must obey. Mischief, while it prospers, brings Favor from the smile of kingsUseless, soon is thrown away Profit though sin it extort, Princes even accounted good Courting greatness ne'er withstood, Since its empire doth support. But when death makes them repent, They condemn the instrument, And are thought religious for't. Pitched down from that height you bear, When your flattering clients fly, As your fate infectious were! When of all th' obsequious throng That moved by your heart and tongue None shall in the storm appear; When that abject insolence, (Which submits to the more great, As misfortunes were offence,) Shall at court be judged a crime, Each small tempest shakes the proud, Fair as noon without a cloud. VIA TUAS DOMINE DEMONSTRA MIHI. WHERE have I wandered? In what Horrid as night way, Increased by storm, did I delight? Thou, my sad soul, didst often say, On that false ground I joyed to tread, Though every path had a new snare, And every turning still did lead But with the surfeit of delight That now I loathe what I admired, So abhors the meat, it hates the sight. For should we naked sin descry, By the aid of wantonness and pride, But clothed in beauty and respect, Even o'er the wise How powerful doth it tyrannize! Whose monstrous form should they detect, And since those shadows which oppress To clear and show the shape of sin, A scorpion sooner be my guest, And warm his venom in my breast. May I, before I grow so vile Be thrown off as a scorn to men; Where while I struggle, and in vain Labor to find Some creature that shall have a mind, 1 Love. What justice have I to complain, My God, if thou shalt not exclude What place can seem to troubled sense So melancholy, dark, and rude, To be esteemed a solitude? Cast me upon some naked shore, Only the print of some sad wreck, If Thou be there, though the seas roar, VERSA EST IN LUCTUM CYTHARA MEA.-JOB LOVE! I no orgies sing, Whereby thy mercies to invoke, Nor from the east rich perfumes bring, To cloud thy altars with the precious smoke. Nor while I did frequent Those fancs by lovers raised to thee, Did I loose heathenish rights invent, To force a blush from injured chastity. Religious was the charm I used affection to entice, And thought none burnt more bright or warm, Yet chaste as winter was the sacrifice. But now I thee bequeath To the soft silken youths at court, Who may their witty passions breathe, To raise their mistress' smile, or make her sport. They'll smooth thee into rhyme, Such as shall catch the wanton ear; And win opinion with the time, To make them a high sail of honor bear. |