« السابقةمتابعة »
These to be lilies thou hast often told me ;
Which if but once again may ever hold thee's
Too confident in thy prolong'd delays ;
And all thy foes trod down and spread as clay?
When shall I see thy face, and glory's ray?
Or lock'd thy sweetness up in fieree disdain ?
Oh! no ;--of ill thou only dost repent thee,
And in thy dainty mercies most content thee: Then why, with stay so long, so long dost thou torment me??
The best elixir for soul's drooping pain ;
Hell's troops my soul beleaguer; bow thine ears ;
And hear my cries pierce through my groans and fears: Sweet Spouse ! see not my sins, but through my plaints and tears.
Anchor my life in thy calm streams of blood :
up and down in waves of worldly flood :
Whilst I in vale of tears at anchor ride,
Where winds of earthly thoughts my sails misguide;
Wash'd in her eyes that swims and sinks in woes :
Dear Spouse! unless thy right hand even steers;
Oh ! if thou anchor not these threat'ning fears ;
As when with iron wheels through stony plain.
Puft up by mighty winds, does hoarsely roar;
And beating with his waves the trembling shore,
(Three sev'ral crowns circled his royal head)
And open lays the Beast's and Dragon's shame :
For to this end, th’ Almighty did him frame,
Frighting the guilty Earth with thund'ring knel! ;
* Our late most learned sovereign, in his Remonstrance and Complaint ou the Apocalypse.
And oft proclaim'd, as through the world he flew,
Her Heav'n-exalted tow'rs in dust are drown'd:
And from the breach outshoots a sudden light:
Well knew the Dragon that all-quelling blast,
And soon perceiv'd that day must be his last :
Though oft had strove, and had been foil'd as oft,
With boundless spite he long'd to try again
A second loss, and new death ;-glad and fain
Fearless expecting his approaching death ;
So up he arose, as does a thunder-cloud,
Which all the Earth with shadows black doth shroud :
Whose sun-like arms daz'd the eclipsed day,
Firing the air with more than heav'nly ray;
Like thousand suns in one :--such is their light,
A subject only for immortal sprite,
With which the Thunderer arms his angry hand :
A hundred crowns, like tow’rs, beset around
His conqʼring head: well may they there abound, When all his limbs, and troops, with gold are richly crown'd.
(In purple blood of thousand rebel kings)
Upon whose arms and thigh in golden words
Begot by Boreas on the Thracian hills ;
Out from his mouth a two-edg'd sword he darts;
Whose sharpest steel the bone and marrow parts,
They take, and in strong bonds and fetters tie :
Him, whose appearance is his victory.
So now he's bound in adamantine chain ;
He storms, he roars, he yells for high disdain :
Unto a thousand thousand torturings :
Soon as the pit he sees, he back retires,
And battle new, but all in vain, respires :
The three-head Dog, and master'd all his pride
At length arriv'd upon the brink of light,
He shuts the day out of his dullard sight,
As fresh as when the flow'rs from winter's tomb
The primrose lighted new, her flame displays,
And frights the neighbour hedge with fiery rays :
Now end in never ending liberty;