« السابقةمتابعة »
E C L OG U E.
DECEMBER 26. 1613,
Allophanes finding Idios in the country in Christmas-time, reprehends his absence from Court at
the marriage of the Earl of Somerset: Idios gives an account of his purpose therein, and of his actions there.
Most other courts, alas! are like to hell,
Whe in dark plots fire without light doth
Or but like stoves, for lust and envy get
Continual but artificial heat
Here zeal and love, grown one, all clouds digest,
And canst thou be from thence:
Idios. No, I am there :
As heav'n to men dispusid, is ev'ry where;
So are those courts whose princes animate
Not only all their house but all their ftate.
Not only in fulness but capacity,
Enlarging narrow men to feel and see,
And comprehend the blessings they bestow.
So reclus d hermits oftentimes do know
More of heav'n's glory than a wordling cao. Burn in one breaft, and, like heav'ns two great As man is of the world, the heart of man lights,
Is an epitome of God's great book
Of creatures, and men nced no farther look ;
So's the country of courts, where sweet peace doth Before the fun and moon created were,
As their own common soul, give life to both:
And am I then from court?
Alicthanes. Dreamer! thou art :
In the Indian fleet, because thou hast
A little fpice or amber in thy talte ?
Because thou art not frozen, art thou warm?
The carth doth in her inner bowels hold
But never hall, except it chance so lie
co upward, that Heav'n gild it with his eye.
As for divine things, faith comes from above, Bcomes a man : Mould chance or envy's art So, for best civil use all tin&ures move
Divide these two, whom nature scarce did part, From higher powers; from God religion springs, Since both have the inflaming eye, and both the Wisdom and honour from the use of kings;
loving heart? Then onbeguile thyself, and know with me, Tha: angels, though on earth employ'd they be,
III. Raising of the Bridegroom. Are ftill in heav'n; so is he still at home
Taough it be fome divorce to think of you That doth abroad to honeft actions come.
Single so much one are you two, Chide thyself tben, 0 fool! which yesterday Let me here contemplate thee Might't have read more than all thy books be First, cheerful Bridegroom! and first let me fee wray.
How thou prevent'it the sun, Haft thou a history which doch present
And his red foaming horses dost outrun ; A court where all affections do assent
How, having laid down in thy sovereign's breast Usto the king's, and that king's are just ?
All businesses, from thence to reinvest And where it is no levity to trust,
Them, when these triumphs cease, thou forward - Where there is no ambition but t'obey, Where inen need whisper nothing and yet may;
To Thew to her, who doth the like impart. Where the king's favours are so plac'd, that all
The fire of thy inflaming eyes, and of thy loving Find that the king therein is liberal
heart. To them, in him, because his favours bend To virtue, to the which they all pretend ?
IV. Raising of the Bride. Thou hast no such, yet here was this, and more;
But now to thee, fair Bride! it is some wrong An earrest lover, wise then, and before.
To think thou wert in bed so long; Our little Cupid hath sued livery,
Since foon thou lielt down first, 'tis fit And is no more in his minority;
Thou in first rising should allow for it. He is admitted now into that breast
Powder thy radiant hair, Where the king's counsels and his secrets rest. Which if without such ashes thou wouldit wear, What halt thou lost? O ignorant man!
Thou who, to all which come to look upon, läos. I knew
Wert meant for Phobus, wouldst be Phaeton. All this, and only therefore I withdrew.
For our ease give thine eyes th' unusual part To know and feel all this, and not to have
Of joy, a tear! lo quencht, thou may't impart Words to express it, makes a man a grave
To us that come thy ’nflaming eyes, to him thy Of his own thoughts : I would not therefore stay loving heart. At a great feait, having no grace to say ; And yet I 'Icap'd not here; for being come
V. Her Apparelling. Full of the common joy, I utter’d some.
Thus thou descend'it to our infirmity, Read then this nuptial-long, which was not made
Who can the sun in water see; Either the court or men's hearts to invade ;
So dost thou when in filk and gold But since I'm dead and buried I could frame. Thou cloud'st thyself; since we which do behold No epitaph which might advance my fame
Are dust and worms, 'tis just So much as this poor fong, which testifies
Our objects be the fruits of worms and duft. I did unto that day some facrifice,
Let ev'ry jewel be a glorious ftar,
Yet stars are not so pure as their spheres are; 1. The time of the Marriage.
And though thou ftoop t'appear to us in part, Tgou art repriev'd, old Year! thou shalt not die, Still in that picture thou entirely art, Though the upon thy death-bed lic,
Which thy inflaming eyes have made within his And ibould't within five days expire;
loving heart. Yet thou art rescu'd from a mightier fire Than thy old foul, the sun,
VI. Going to the Chapel.
Now from your east you issue forth, and we,
The riâng fun, do think it two;
So as you go to church do think of you: Either unto the northern pole impart [heart. But that vail being gone, The fire of these indaming e ycs, or of this loving By the church rites you are from thenceforth one.
The church triumphant made this match before, II. Equality of Perfons.
And now the militant doch strive no more. But, undiscerning Muse! which heart, whichezcs, Thon, reverend Priest! who God's recorder art, 1.1 this new couple doft thou prize,
Do from his dictates to these two impart When his eye as inflaming is
All bleflings which are seen, or thought, by anA her's, and her beart loves as well as his?
gels eye or heart. E: try'd by beauty, and then The bridegroom is a maid, and not a man ;
VII. The Penedi&tion. li by ihat manly courage they be try'd
Blest pair of Swans! oh! may you interbring Which scoses unjust opinion, then the bride Daily new joys, and never ling:
Live till all grounds of wishes fail,
X. Tbe Bridegroom's Coming, Till honour, yea, till wisdom, grow so stale,
As he that sees a Itar fall runs apace, That new great heights to try,
And finds a gelly in the place; It must serve your ambition to die,
So doth the bridegroom hafte as muchi, Raise heirs, and may here to the world's end live Being cold this star is fall'n, and finds her such. Heirs from this king to take thanks, you to give.
And as friends may look strange Nature and grace do all, and nothing art. By a new fashion or apparel's change. May never age or error overthwart
Their souls, though long acquainted they had been, With any west these radiant eyes, with any north These clothes their bodies never yet had seen : tiis heart.
Therefore at first the modestly might start,
But must forthwith surrender every part
As freely as cach to each before gave either hand But you are over-blest : plenty this day
or heart. Injures; it causeth time to stay : The tables groan, as though this seal
XI. The Good Nigbt. Would, as the flood, destroy all fowl and beast. Now, as in Tullia's tomb one lamp burat clear, And were the doctrine new
Unchang'd for fifteen hundred year.
warmth, light, lasting equal the divine !
But ends in ashes; which thefe cannot do, A lạnset to these weary eyes, a centre to this for none of these is fuel, but fire too. heart.
This is joy's bonfire then, where love's strong art:
Make of fo noble individual parts,
One fire of four inflaming eyes and of two loving
Idios. As I have brought this song, that I may Thou may'st not when thou'rt laid do so :
do Thyself must to him a new banquet grow, A perfect sacrifice, I'll burn it too. And you must entertain,
Alloph. No, Sir, this paper I have justly got, And do all this day's dances o'er again,
For in burnt incense the perfume is not Know, that if sun and moon together do
His only that presents it, but of all.
Whatever celebrates this festival
Such altars as prize your devotion.
HOLY SONNET S.
Th'hydroptick drunkard, and night-scouting thief, Txou haft made me, and shall thy work decay? Have th” remembrance of past joys for relief
The itchy lecher, and self-tickling proud,
Of coming ills. To (poor) me is allow'd
No ease; for long yet vehement grief hath been I dare not move my dim eyes any way;
Th' effect and cause, the punishment and fin.
Oh! my black foul! now thou art summoned
By sickness, death's herald and champion,
Thou 'rt like a pilgrim which abroad hath done But our old subtile foe so tempteth me,
Treason, and durft not turn to whence he is fied;
Or like a thief, which, till death's doom be read, That not one hour myself I can fuítain :
Wifheth himself delivered from prison ; Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art,
But damn'd, and hawl'd to execution, And chou, like adamant, draw minc iron heart.
Witheth that still he might b'imprisoned :
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack ; II.
But who shall give thee that grace to begin? As doe by many titles, I resign
Oh! make thyfelf with holy mourning black, Myself to thee, O God! First I was made
And red with blushing, as thou art with lin; By chee, and for thee; and when I was decay'd
Orwash thee in Christ's blood,which hath this might, Thy blood bought that, the which before was
That, being red, it dies red souls to white. thine. I am thy fon, made with thyself to shine,
V. Thy fervant, whose pains thou haft ftill repay'd,
I am a little world, made cunningly Thy theep, thine image; and, till I betray'd Of elements and an angelic sprite ; Myself, a temple of thy Spirit divinc.
But black fin hath betray'd to endless night Why doth the devil then usurp on me?
My world's both parts, and (oh!) both parts must Why doth he fteal, nay, ravish, that's thy righ:?
[high, Except thou rise, and for thine own work fight,
You, which beyond that heav'n, which was mott Oh! I tha!l foon despair, when I shall see
Havefound new spheres, and of newland can write, That thou lov'st mankind well, yet wilt not
Pour new seas in mine eyes, that so I might choose me,
Drown my world with my weeping earnestly, And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me. Or wash it, if it must be drown'd no more :
But oh! it must be burnt; alas! the fire
Of luft and envy burnt ic heretofore,
Of thee and thy house, which doth io eating cal Mourd with some fruit, as I have mourn'd in vain !
VI. In mine idolatry what show'rs of rain
This is my play's last scene; here Heavens appoint Mine eyes did waste? what griefs my heart did My pilgrimage's last mile; aed my race, rent?
Idly yet quickly run, hath this last pace, That sufferance was my fin I now repent; My spa:a's last inch, my minute's latest point, 'Cause I did fuffer, I mus fuffer pain.
And gluttonous death will inftantly anjoint
My body and soul, and I shall sleep a space : For those whom thou think'st thou doft over But my ever-waking part shall see that face
throw Whose fear already shakes my every joint. Die not, poor Death! nor yet canst thou kill me. Then as my soul to heav'n, her first seat, takes From rest and sleep, which but thy picture be, flight
Much pleasure, then, from thee much more mu And earth-borne body in the earth shall dwell, So fall ny sins, that all may have their right, And soonest our best men with thee do go, To where they 're bred, and would press me to Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery. hell.
Thou’rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and defpeImpute me righteous; thus purg'd of evil,
rate men, For thus I leave the world, the fleth, the devil. And doft with poison, war, and sickness, dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well, VII.
And better thac thy stroke. Why swell'st thou At the round earth's imagin'd corners blow
then ? Your trunipets, Angels! and arise, arise
One Mort sleep past we wake eternally; From death, you numberless infinities
Aud Death shall be no more ; Death, thou shalt die Of souls, and to your frattered bodies go, All whom th' flood did, and fire shall, overthrow;
For I have fino'd, and finn'd, and only he
My fins, which pass the Jews' impiety : 'lis late to ask abundance of thy grace
They kill'd once an inglorious man, but I
As Jacob came, cloth'd in vile harsh attire,
But to supplant, and with gainful intent :
God cloth'd himself in vile man's flesh, that so As angels, then my father's soul doth see,
He might be weak enough to suffer woe.
Why do the prodigal elements supply
Life and food to me, being more pure than 1, How shall my mind's white truth by them be Simpler, and further from corruption?
Why brook'st thou, ignorant horse ! subjection ? They fee idolatrous lovers weep and mourn, Why do you, bull and boar, so fillily And style blasphemous conjurers to call
Dillemble weakness, and by one man's ftroke die. On Jesus' nanie, and Pharisaical
Whose whole kind you might swallow' and feed Dil:mblers feign devotion. Then turn, O pensive soul! to God, for he knows best Weaker I am, woe's me? and worse than you : Thy grief, for he put it into my breast.
You have not finn'd, nor need be timorous,
But wonder at a greater, for to us
Created nature doth these things subdue;
But their Creator, whom fin nor nature ty'd, Whole fruit threw death on (else immortal) us; For us, his creatures and his foes, hath dy'd. If lecherous goats, if serpents envious, Cannot be damn'd, alas! why should I be?
XIII. Why should intent or reason, born in me,
What if this present were the world's last night? Make fins, elfe equal, in me more heinous ? Mark in my heart, O Soul! where thou doft dwell, And mercy being easy and glorious
The picture of Christ crucify'd, and tell To God, in his stern wrath why threatens he? Whether his countenance can thee affright; But who am I that dare dispute with thee! Tears in his cyes quench the amazing light; O God! oh! of thine only worthy blood, Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierc'd hea And my tears, make a heav'nly Lethean fiood,
fell. Ard drown in it my fin's black memory : And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell That thou remember them lone claim as debt, Which pray'd forgiveness for his focs' fierce I think it mercy if thou wilt forget.
No, no; but as in my idolatry
I said to all my profane mistresses,