The Life of Our Blessed Lord & Saviour Jesus Christ An Heroic Poem: Dedicated to Her Most Sacred Majesty. In Ten Books. Attempted by Samuel Wesley ... Each Book illustrated by necessary Notes, explaining all the more difficult Matters in the whole History: Also a Prefatory Discourse concerning Heroic Poetry. With Sixty Copper-Plates |
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| I. |
BOOK I.
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 | II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
 | The Life of Our Blessed Lord & Saviour Jesus Christ |  |
BOOK I.
THE ARGUMENT OF THE First BOOK.
The Proposition. The Invocation. Our Saviour's Ascent on Mount Tabor, with his three Disciples; whence they take a View of the Country about it. The Transfiguration. After which our Saviour descends from the Mount; and after having foretold his Passion, going through Galilee approaches Jerusalem. And, in his Passage thither over Mount Olivet, raises Lazarus from the dead: Then being invited by Simon the Leper to a Feast, in whose House the Destruction of Sodom is described on a Suit of Hangings; Mary Magdalen there anoints his Feet. The next day he descends to Jerusalem, and makes his triumphant Entry into the City, attended by vast Crouds of People, bearing Palms, and singing Hosanna's. Whence he retires in the Evening to Mount Olivet; which is described, with the Country about it. The Description of the Garden near Gethsemane, and our Saviours usual Employment there. A Digression concerning Divine Love, and virtuous Friendship. A Character of the three Disciples, Peter, James, and John. Their Descent from the Mount to Jerusalem; where in the Temple, they are met by Joseph of Arimathea, who formerly, in the Country, had seen many of our Saviour's Miracles. Hence he takes 'em with him to his pleasant Garden on the side of Calvary; where being met by his Friends, Nicodemus and Gamaliel, they put them on a Discourse of our Saviour's Life and Miracles. Which ends the First Book.
1
I sing the Man who reigns enthron'd on high;
I sing the God, who not disdain'd to dye:
Him, whom each modest Seraph trembling sings,
The most afflicted, yet the best of Kings:
Who from th' Eternal Father's side came down,
Stript of his Starry Diadem and Crown;
From Satan's Chains, to ransom captive Men,
And drive him to his own sad Realms agen.
What Pain, what Labour did he not endure,
To close our Wounds, and Happiness secure?
He still was doing Good, and let us see
By his Example, what we ought to be:
Taught us a perfect Law, unknown before;
Did by his Merits the lost World restore,
And gave his Life, when he could give no more:
Hence a new Race of Times and Men began,
And happy Years in decent Order ran:
Hence Faith and Truth agen to Earth return,
And lost Astræa we no longer mourn.
So vast the Work, Apostate Man to save!
So great the Price our dear Redeemer gave!
I sing the God, who not disdain'd to dye:
Him, whom each modest Seraph trembling sings,
The most afflicted, yet the best of Kings:
Who from th' Eternal Father's side came down,
Stript of his Starry Diadem and Crown;
From Satan's Chains, to ransom captive Men,
And drive him to his own sad Realms agen.
What Pain, what Labour did he not endure,
To close our Wounds, and Happiness secure?
2
By his Example, what we ought to be:
Taught us a perfect Law, unknown before;
Did by his Merits the lost World restore,
And gave his Life, when he could give no more:
Hence a new Race of Times and Men began,
And happy Years in decent Order ran:
Hence Faith and Truth agen to Earth return,
And lost Astræa we no longer mourn.
So vast the Work, Apostate Man to save!
So great the Price our dear Redeemer gave!
Nor will he his propitious Aid refuse,
The same my God, my Hero and my Muse,
Who sing his Life; a Work immense and rare,
Too heavy for an Angel's strength to bear:
The mighty Masters of the tuneful Throng,
Whose numerous Souls are struck with sacred Song,
Whose Names the World out-last, the Sun out-shine,
Immortal Cowley, Herbert all divine
Beheld the weighty Task, but durst not stay,
And wisely shrunk their conscious Arms away:
How then shall I, a nameless Thing, presume,
Unmark'd, unknown, to fill their sacred room;
Sunk in the useless Crowd by Birth and Fate,
Sunk lower by unequal Fortune's Weight?
The same my God, my Hero and my Muse,
Who sing his Life; a Work immense and rare,
Too heavy for an Angel's strength to bear:
The mighty Masters of the tuneful Throng,
Whose numerous Souls are struck with sacred Song,
Whose Names the World out-last, the Sun out-shine,
Immortal Cowley, Herbert all divine
Beheld the weighty Task, but durst not stay,
And wisely shrunk their conscious Arms away:
How then shall I, a nameless Thing, presume,
Unmark'd, unknown, to fill their sacred room;
Sunk in the useless Crowd by Birth and Fate,
Sunk lower by unequal Fortune's Weight?
O Thou, whose Word this ALL of nothing made,
And when thou hadst each beauteous Scene survey'd,
Pronounc'd it Good; Let thy kind Spirit shine
Through every part of this New World of mine!
Both Light and Being by thy FIAT give,
And This through Thee, as long as Thine shall live!
And when thou hadst each beauteous Scene survey'd,
Pronounc'd it Good; Let thy kind Spirit shine
Through every part of this New World of mine!
Both Light and Being by thy FIAT give,
And This through Thee, as long as Thine shall live!
Two Worlds already did our LORD confess,
And sure the Third, his Own, could do no less:
Glad Earth and trembling Hell just Witness gave,
These to subdue, and those he came to save:
His ransom'd Subjects loud Hosanna's sing,
His Rebels fled, and knew their angry King:
Already he in Desarts wast and wild
In God-like Innocence severely mild,
Had met the Tyrant of the Realms below,
And conquer'd Hand to Hand the mighty Foe:
Cursing he fled, as when transfix'd he fell,
With all the doubled Spite and Rage of Hell:
Heav'n does at last in its own Cause appear;
The strongest Forces must maintain the Rear:
Th' Inhabitants of those bright Realms of Day,
Must Homage to their mighty Master pay,
Tho' veil'd in humble Robes of Mortal Clay:
And sure the Third, his Own, could do no less:
Glad Earth and trembling Hell just Witness gave,
These to subdue, and those he came to save:
His ransom'd Subjects loud Hosanna's sing,
His Rebels fled, and knew their angry King:
Already he in Desarts wast and wild
In God-like Innocence severely mild,
Had met the Tyrant of the Realms below,
3
Cursing he fled, as when transfix'd he fell,
With all the doubled Spite and Rage of Hell:
Heav'n does at last in its own Cause appear;
The strongest Forces must maintain the Rear:
Th' Inhabitants of those bright Realms of Day,
Must Homage to their mighty Master pay,
Tho' veil'd in humble Robes of Mortal Clay:
Tabor the Place to prove his Mission true,
Where Heav'n and Earth must have an Interview:
That Mount of God, as Sinai long before,
The upper Worlds whole Weight descending bore:
Lovely it look'd like some Divine Abode,
All beauteous as the Paradise of God:
Steep is th' Ascent, but when the Top you gain,
It more than recompences all your Pain,
Presenting the pleas'd Eye an even Plain;
And underneath, around the spacious Coast
The noblest Prospect Jury's Land can boast:
If East inclin'd to North you cast your Eye,
Royal Tiberias thence with Ease you'll spy,
Whose wealthy Citizens their pleasure take
In numerous Boats upon the neighb'ring Lake;
While Ships of greater Bulk with decent Pride
Their Penons waving, Sails extended wide,
Traverse its length, or run from side to side:
Beyond whose Eastern bounds far off you see
With pleasant Horror Stony Arabie:
Kishon to South, whose Banks new Waters fill,
When past by Western Hermon's gentle Hill:
A noble River now, tho' not so large
As when the Stars on Israel's side did charge;
When o'r its Crimson Waves, a ghastly throng,
Bodies and Shields and Helms promiscuous roll'd along:
From thence 'twixt West and North it onward goes,
And near the Walls of little Naim flows,
Whence Carmel's Mount and Grove its Waves entice
To add new Beauties to that Paradice:
Where when the Prophet Baal's curst Priests did slay,
It wash'd their Blood, and Israel's Stain away:
Both hurry'd swift to the great Western Flood;
Within whose Arms, more North, rich Tyrus stood;
Her Walls so strong, nor Sea, nor Land they fear:
And farther on, her Sister Sidon near,
Under fair Libanus you might descry
Where Clouds at once and that obstruct your Eye:
Thence back to South direct your Sight again,
You'll Jezreel see, and rich Megiddo's Plain:
Proud Jezreel, where unhappy Naboth fell,
Whose guiltless Blood cost that of Jezebel.
Where Heav'n and Earth must have an Interview:
That Mount of God, as Sinai long before,
The upper Worlds whole Weight descending bore:
Lovely it look'd like some Divine Abode,
All beauteous as the Paradise of God:
Steep is th' Ascent, but when the Top you gain,
It more than recompences all your Pain,
Presenting the pleas'd Eye an even Plain;
And underneath, around the spacious Coast
The noblest Prospect Jury's Land can boast:
If East inclin'd to North you cast your Eye,
Royal Tiberias thence with Ease you'll spy,
Whose wealthy Citizens their pleasure take
In numerous Boats upon the neighb'ring Lake;
While Ships of greater Bulk with decent Pride
Their Penons waving, Sails extended wide,
Traverse its length, or run from side to side:
Beyond whose Eastern bounds far off you see
With pleasant Horror Stony Arabie:
Kishon to South, whose Banks new Waters fill,
When past by Western Hermon's gentle Hill:
A noble River now, tho' not so large
As when the Stars on Israel's side did charge;
When o'r its Crimson Waves, a ghastly throng,
Bodies and Shields and Helms promiscuous roll'd along:
From thence 'twixt West and North it onward goes,
And near the Walls of little Naim flows,
Whence Carmel's Mount and Grove its Waves entice
To add new Beauties to that Paradice:
Where when the Prophet Baal's curst Priests did slay,
It wash'd their Blood, and Israel's Stain away:
4
Within whose Arms, more North, rich Tyrus stood;
Her Walls so strong, nor Sea, nor Land they fear:
And farther on, her Sister Sidon near,
Under fair Libanus you might descry
Where Clouds at once and that obstruct your Eye:
Thence back to South direct your Sight again,
You'll Jezreel see, and rich Megiddo's Plain:
Proud Jezreel, where unhappy Naboth fell,
Whose guiltless Blood cost that of Jezebel.
To this fair Mount did our blest Lord ascend;
Three Witnesses must thither him attend,
Two, destin'd Martyrs, and the third his Friend;
Zebedee's happy Sons, whose mighty Name
From awful Thunder, scarce more active, came;
Cephas before 'em both in Zeal and Fame:
These with his more peculiar Favour blest,
He with him takes, and leaves beneath the rest.
Three Witnesses must thither him attend,
Two, destin'd Martyrs, and the third his Friend;
Zebedee's happy Sons, whose mighty Name
From awful Thunder, scarce more active, came;
Cephas before 'em both in Zeal and Fame:
These with his more peculiar Favour blest,
He with him takes, and leaves beneath the rest.
Scarce had the chearful Harbinger of Day
Clapt his bright Wings and warn'd the Shades away,
E'r our still watchful Saviour, who denies
The Sun, his shade, before himself should rise,
Had conquer'd Tabor's hoary top, and there
Yet higher mounts in ardent Hymns and Pray'r:
No earthly Thought, no sublunary thing
Could clog his tow'ring Souls Seraphic Wing:
He pass'd through all the glittering Guards on high,
Who staid their Songs, and bow'd as he went by;
Nor stop'd but at his Father's radiant Throne,
“The great Three-One—
He ask'd and had, and beckon'd thence away,
(Gladly all Heav'n his lov'd Commands obey:)
Two of the brightest Saints which fill the Place
Ay-gazing on the Beatifick Face:
That faithful Leader of the chosen Band
Who Nature sway'd with his Almighty Wand;
Whom quaking Sinai shew'd so much before,
That Heav'n it self could hardly now do more:
And him who on the glorious Wings of Morn
In a bright wond'rous Car to Bliss was born;
Whose Soul of Flames as pure as warm was made,
As those which him to his Reward convey'd:
ELIAS, who to Heav'n triumphing rode,
MOSES, expiring with the Kiss of God:
Thus Law and Prophets their Perfection find
In him, the Hope, the Price of lost Mankind:
Meeker than Moses, whilst his Zeal flam'd higher,
Than his who shew'd the Way to Bliss in Fire:
Upon the shivering Mountain's Brow they walk'd,
And things unutterable look'd and talk'd:
Talk'd of his wond'rous Passion, wond'rous Love;
A Riddle pos'd the very Blest above:
They knew their LORD so long enthron'd on high,
They knew he must, yet knew he could not die;
The Light of Light hymn'd by the Heav'nly Quire,
The Coessential Son of his Almighty Sire.
Clapt his bright Wings and warn'd the Shades away,
E'r our still watchful Saviour, who denies
The Sun, his shade, before himself should rise,
Had conquer'd Tabor's hoary top, and there
Yet higher mounts in ardent Hymns and Pray'r:
No earthly Thought, no sublunary thing
Could clog his tow'ring Souls Seraphic Wing:
He pass'd through all the glittering Guards on high,
Who staid their Songs, and bow'd as he went by;
Nor stop'd but at his Father's radiant Throne,
“The great Three-One—
He ask'd and had, and beckon'd thence away,
(Gladly all Heav'n his lov'd Commands obey:)
Two of the brightest Saints which fill the Place
Ay-gazing on the Beatifick Face:
That faithful Leader of the chosen Band
Who Nature sway'd with his Almighty Wand;
Whom quaking Sinai shew'd so much before,
That Heav'n it self could hardly now do more:
And him who on the glorious Wings of Morn
In a bright wond'rous Car to Bliss was born;
5
As those which him to his Reward convey'd:
ELIAS, who to Heav'n triumphing rode,
MOSES, expiring with the Kiss of God:
Thus Law and Prophets their Perfection find
In him, the Hope, the Price of lost Mankind:
Meeker than Moses, whilst his Zeal flam'd higher,
Than his who shew'd the Way to Bliss in Fire:
Upon the shivering Mountain's Brow they walk'd,
And things unutterable look'd and talk'd:
Talk'd of his wond'rous Passion, wond'rous Love;
A Riddle pos'd the very Blest above:
They knew their LORD so long enthron'd on high,
They knew he must, yet knew he could not die;
The Light of Light hymn'd by the Heav'nly Quire,
The Coessential Son of his Almighty Sire.
While thus new Mysteries they still discern'd,
And more than Heav'n it self could teach them, learn'd,
Dull Slumbers the three Witnesses surprise,
And heavy shameful Sloth fast seal'd their Eyes:
With their short Vigils tir'd, supine they lay,
Till them their Master turning did survey;
From his lov'd Face he shot a piercing Beam,
Which rous'd them all from their inglorious Dream;
They gaz'd a while, but found the Scene too bright,
And fled again th' insufferable Light.
And more than Heav'n it self could teach them, learn'd,
Dull Slumbers the three Witnesses surprise,
And heavy shameful Sloth fast seal'd their Eyes:
With their short Vigils tir'd, supine they lay,
Till them their Master turning did survey;
From his lov'd Face he shot a piercing Beam,
Which rous'd them all from their inglorious Dream;
They gaz'd a while, but found the Scene too bright,
And fled again th' insufferable Light.
Thus, when at the last dreadful hour of Doom
Th' Arch-Angel's Trump shall wake each silent Tomb;
When God's Pavilion in the Clouds is spred,
Keen Rays of Lightning wreath'd around his Head;
O'rburthen'd Nature at the sight would fly,
Again would be entomb'd, again would die.
Th' Arch-Angel's Trump shall wake each silent Tomb;
When God's Pavilion in the Clouds is spred,
Keen Rays of Lightning wreath'd around his Head;
O'rburthen'd Nature at the sight would fly,
Again would be entomb'd, again would die.
But now our Lord his Glories part repress'd,
And mildly veils and mitigates the rest:
Again they look'd; what wond'rous things they saw?
Not they themselves the shining Scene could draw,
If yet alive—What Glory and what Grace!
Daz'ling his Form, ineffable his Face:
That Prophet's who from trembling Sinai came,
Was dress'd in a far less Illustrious Flame:
The Sun shrunk back his Head but newly shown,
Eclips'd with stronger Splendor than his own:
Like those eternal Youths which ever dwell
Near Light's and Beauty's unexhausted Well:
Young Cherubs look thus glittering and thus gay,
Adorn'd in all their festal Robes, when they
Some mighty Message to the World convey:
His seamless Robe than new fall'n Snow more white,
One radiant Pillar all of sparkling Light:
Far did it Mortal Art's best strokes outshine,
All o'r the Workmanship of Hands Divine:
But Heav'nly things we to base Earth compare,
So Night like Day, Shades like the Sun are fair:
So the bold Painter's Art pretends to show
Beauteous as those above, feign'd Clouds below.
And mildly veils and mitigates the rest:
Again they look'd; what wond'rous things they saw?
Not they themselves the shining Scene could draw,
If yet alive—What Glory and what Grace!
Daz'ling his Form, ineffable his Face:
That Prophet's who from trembling Sinai came,
Was dress'd in a far less Illustrious Flame:
6
Eclips'd with stronger Splendor than his own:
Like those eternal Youths which ever dwell
Near Light's and Beauty's unexhausted Well:
Young Cherubs look thus glittering and thus gay,
Adorn'd in all their festal Robes, when they
Some mighty Message to the World convey:
His seamless Robe than new fall'n Snow more white,
One radiant Pillar all of sparkling Light:
Far did it Mortal Art's best strokes outshine,
All o'r the Workmanship of Hands Divine:
But Heav'nly things we to base Earth compare,
So Night like Day, Shades like the Sun are fair:
So the bold Painter's Art pretends to show
Beauteous as those above, feign'd Clouds below.
Next him the two great Prophets them surprise
With modest Glories, only less than his:
Such as the twinkling Stars clear Silver Ray
To th' stronger Lustre of the Golden Day.
With modest Glories, only less than his:
Such as the twinkling Stars clear Silver Ray
To th' stronger Lustre of the Golden Day.
An Heav'nly Joy seiz'd each Disciple's Breast,
Too big or to be stifl'd or exprest:
Reason at Revelation must expire;
What wonder if the Sun should damp the Fire?
Too big or to be stifl'd or exprest:
Reason at Revelation must expire;
What wonder if the Sun should damp the Fire?
Thus when young Prophets have a Vision seen,
Or labour with th' unequal God within;
With sacred Rage inspir'd they're now no more
Mild, calm and peaceful as they were before:
New Wildness in their Looks and Eyes we find,
And ev'ry Mark of a disorder'd Mind;
Nature does then beyond it self appear;
Thus Cephas look'd, thus the blest Pair look'd here:
All that they knew was Pleasure mixt with Pain,
All that they fear'd was losing it again:
When Cephas thus—“Dread Master, if we e'r
“Were thy peculiar Love, and tend'rest Care,
“In this blest Place for ever let us stay,
“Rather than Us, O take our Lives away!
“Three humble Tabernacles soon we'll rear
“For Thee, and these Illustrious Strangers here:
“Nor has ev'n God himself disdain'd to dwell
“In the poor Tents of his lov'd Israel.
Or labour with th' unequal God within;
With sacred Rage inspir'd they're now no more
Mild, calm and peaceful as they were before:
New Wildness in their Looks and Eyes we find,
And ev'ry Mark of a disorder'd Mind;
Nature does then beyond it self appear;
Thus Cephas look'd, thus the blest Pair look'd here:
All that they knew was Pleasure mixt with Pain,
All that they fear'd was losing it again:
When Cephas thus—“Dread Master, if we e'r
“Were thy peculiar Love, and tend'rest Care,
“In this blest Place for ever let us stay,
“Rather than Us, O take our Lives away!
“Three humble Tabernacles soon we'll rear
“For Thee, and these Illustrious Strangers here:
“Nor has ev'n God himself disdain'd to dwell
7
Scarce from his Lips, the last swift Accent flies
E're still new Scenes of Miracles arise!
For lo! a Cloud wafts through th' enlight'ned Air,
Those which a Summer Ev'ning dress, less fair;
A wond'rous Cloud, the Morn it self less bright,
Wove from the finest Threads of Heav'nly Light:
Such as far off in those blest Regions stray,
Where God's high Throne scatters eternal Day:
Such that strange Cloud that made the World's first Morn,
Before the Stars or Sun itself was born:
That Pillar such which did from Egypt come,
And piloted the chosen Nations home;
From Earth to Heav'n did its broad Top aspire,
Miraculous Mixture! 'twas both Shade and Fire.
And lo, it comes, and lo, they strive in vain;
Their fault'ring Knees their Bodies can't sustain:
Celestial Lustre ev'n through Clouds survey'd
Must sink the strongest Frame of Matter made?
Blunted with Wonders and exhausted all
Their Spirits forsake their Task—so down they fall;
So down they fall, dissolv'd in reverend Fear;
But first a Voice, an awful Voice they hear,
The Voice of God, in Thunder drest no more,
As when he stoop'd on Sinai heretofore;
Thunder and Darkness then the World did fright,
But now the Voice is calm, the Cloud is bright:
“Th' Eternal Father, First o'th' great Three-One
“Mildly attesting his Eternal Son;
“Whate'r he spake, not Truth it self more clear,
“Commanding them and all the World to hear:
They hear, but dare not him who speaks it meet,
So down they fall, and kiss their Masters Feet:
Nor long his kind and speedy Succour stays;
He touch'd, whose very Touch the Dead can raise,
Their lifeless Limbs, and him they rising praise:
Around they look'd, but could no more descry
That Heav'nly Pair, whose happy Company
They late enjoy'd, return'd to Bliss, to show
To those above, what they had learn'd below:
E're still new Scenes of Miracles arise!
For lo! a Cloud wafts through th' enlight'ned Air,
Those which a Summer Ev'ning dress, less fair;
A wond'rous Cloud, the Morn it self less bright,
Wove from the finest Threads of Heav'nly Light:
Such as far off in those blest Regions stray,
Where God's high Throne scatters eternal Day:
Such that strange Cloud that made the World's first Morn,
Before the Stars or Sun itself was born:
That Pillar such which did from Egypt come,
And piloted the chosen Nations home;
From Earth to Heav'n did its broad Top aspire,
Miraculous Mixture! 'twas both Shade and Fire.
And lo, it comes, and lo, they strive in vain;
Their fault'ring Knees their Bodies can't sustain:
Celestial Lustre ev'n through Clouds survey'd
Must sink the strongest Frame of Matter made?
Blunted with Wonders and exhausted all
Their Spirits forsake their Task—so down they fall;
So down they fall, dissolv'd in reverend Fear;
But first a Voice, an awful Voice they hear,
The Voice of God, in Thunder drest no more,
As when he stoop'd on Sinai heretofore;
Thunder and Darkness then the World did fright,
But now the Voice is calm, the Cloud is bright:
“Th' Eternal Father, First o'th' great Three-One
“Mildly attesting his Eternal Son;
“Whate'r he spake, not Truth it self more clear,
“Commanding them and all the World to hear:
They hear, but dare not him who speaks it meet,
So down they fall, and kiss their Masters Feet:
Nor long his kind and speedy Succour stays;
He touch'd, whose very Touch the Dead can raise,
Their lifeless Limbs, and him they rising praise:
Around they look'd, but could no more descry
That Heav'nly Pair, whose happy Company
They late enjoy'd, return'd to Bliss, to show
To those above, what they had learn'd below:
8
Thus Holy Souls from dregs of Sin refin'd,
Whose Frames are little less than perfect Mind,
Whose Converse and Acquaintance with the Blest
Commences here, and half their Heav'n's possest:
Thus, when to these through Sleeps thin Curtains shine
Angelic Essences, and Forms Divine,
They sighing wake, and clasp the empty Air;
Thus Cephas, thus the Zebedæan Pair,
And would have griev'd, had not our Lord been there;
Who, free from worldly Glories vain desire,
Unwarm'd at fond Ambition's foolish Fire,
What they had seen commands 'em to conceal,
Nor to the World those sacred Truths reveal,
Till, when he conquer'd Death, and broke its Chain,
That Faith to this, as this to that might gain.
Whose Frames are little less than perfect Mind,
Whose Converse and Acquaintance with the Blest
Commences here, and half their Heav'n's possest:
Thus, when to these through Sleeps thin Curtains shine
Angelic Essences, and Forms Divine,
They sighing wake, and clasp the empty Air;
Thus Cephas, thus the Zebedæan Pair,
And would have griev'd, had not our Lord been there;
Who, free from worldly Glories vain desire,
Unwarm'd at fond Ambition's foolish Fire,
What they had seen commands 'em to conceal,
Nor to the World those sacred Truths reveal,
Till, when he conquer'd Death, and broke its Chain,
That Faith to this, as this to that might gain.
Wond'ring they long revolv'd his deep intent,
Nor fathom'd what those strange Expressions meant:
How can he suffer sad Rebuke or Pain,
How can he either dye or rise again?
With a kind Doubt they these sad Truths receive:
And what they must fain would they not believe:
Till quitting Tabor he the same exprest
To those beneath, with the same Griefs opprest:
His Pains, his Wounds, and that sad Scene of Woe
He for th' ungrateful World must undergo:
How he must enter Death's uneasie Gate,
The Son of Man must suffer mortal Fate:
How then the Son of God must break the Chain
And on the third glad Morning rise again.
Nor fathom'd what those strange Expressions meant:
How can he suffer sad Rebuke or Pain,
How can he either dye or rise again?
With a kind Doubt they these sad Truths receive:
And what they must fain would they not believe:
Till quitting Tabor he the same exprest
To those beneath, with the same Griefs opprest:
His Pains, his Wounds, and that sad Scene of Woe
He for th' ungrateful World must undergo:
How he must enter Death's uneasie Gate,
The Son of Man must suffer mortal Fate:
How then the Son of God must break the Chain
And on the third glad Morning rise again.
Deep was the Sorrow seiz'd each Loyal Breast,
When Truths so terrible their Lord express'd:
All gladly, if they dar'd, would him reprove,
As Cephas did with his too forward Love:
Mistaken men! your kindness soars too high;
Or He, or you and all the World must die:
He knew the fatal Price that must be paid
Long long before the World's Foundations laid;
He knew the Hour, and thither did proceed,
Where He, th' atoning Lamb, must mildly bleed;
To proud Jerusalem, out-stretching high
Her lofty Turrets, glitt'ring in the Sky;
Charg'd with so many a Prophet's Blood before
The Guilt of his could only sink 'em more.
Through Galilee's wild Coasts his Progress takes,
But unproclaim'd and silent Journeys makes:
In vain, alas, he strives to be conceal'd,
He's like the Sun by his own Rays reveal'd:
See where from far the crowding Regions meet,
And cast th' infirm and desp'rate at his feet!
Where these from old Bethabara they bring,
And these from Father Jordan's double Spring:
Nor Devils nor Diseases longer stay,
When warn'd by his Almighty Voice away.
The Lame their Feet without their Crutches find,
His Word, as to the World, gives Light to th' Blind,
Such Light as cheers at once their Eyes and Mind.
What Angel's Eloquence cou'd equal prove
To all the Wonders of his Pow'r and Love?
How oft, with the long Days fatigues opprest,
His Works the God, his pain the Man confest,
His toilsom Labour call'd for gentle rest?
Oft least officious Crowds shou'd him surprize,
He from the Sea seeks what the Land denies,
In a small Boat of fair Bethsaida's Town
Which Zebedee and faithful Cephas own:
These, once when length'ning Shadows warn'd away
From the dim Heav'ns the dying Lamp of Day
He bids forsake the Galilean Shore,
And with his faithful Houshold waft him o'r
For Gadaras strong Turrets, rais'd so high
As Heav'n and Earth, they'd both at once defy:
They lancht, whilst he his humble Cabin takes
And sleeps, tho' all his Guard of Angels wakes:
When strait a thick black mist began to rise
Still dark'ning more and more the disappearing Skies:
Old Zebedee by long experience, wise,
When first intent he view'd the thick'ning Air,
Calls up his Mates, and bids for Storms prepare;
He to the Helm, he knew to guide it best,
And to their well known Quarters all the rest:
Nor needless was his Caution or their Hast,
With one black Mantle strait all Heav'n's o'rcast:
Whether the Enemy assay'd in vain,
What he had lost at Land, at Sea to gain;
Or hop'd he by surprizal might prevail,
Where by fair Force he durst no more assail:
Or whether Nature only sent the Storm
T'experience what her Master cou'd perform;
Suffer'd by him whose Word can Storms remove,
To shew his God-like Pow'r, and God-like Love:
But whether it from Nature's Storehouse fell,
Or issu'd from the baleful Caves of Hell;
Still more and more its threatning Rage prevails,
And from the Mast soon rends the Paper-Sails:
The Dead-Sea roars, and sulph'rous Vapours come
In rolling Flames, from its Infernal Womb,
From Regions wide away loud Ruine bear,
As gathering Thunders bellow round the Air.
Old Jordan hears, its Waters backward run
(As thrice before) the fatal Shock to shun,
Against the Stream rolls in th' unnatural Tide,
And should'ring Seas upon each other ride:
Wind against Wind, Floods dashing Floods arise,
One Whirlpool all the Waves, one Whirl-wind all the Skies:
Cold sleet from every Quarter driving comes,
And Fear as much each trembling Hand benums:
While from the Hollow of a dreadful Cloud,
Fates angry Messengers for passage crowd,
And o'r affrighted Mortals roar aloud:
Broad Sheets of ghastly Flame from thence are sent
Discovering either wrathful Element,
Whose Horrors strike their Eyes with cruel Light,
Thro' the dire Chasms of interrupted Night:
They saw the boyling Deep roll wide away,
While Nature's secret Chambers open lay:
So vast the Gulph, it shew'd a horrid Shore,
And Rocks and Sands and Paths unknown before;
Aloft black low'ring Worlds of Water rave,
And greedy Death broods o'r each threat'ning Wave,
Thither on Surges tumultuous they rise,
And hang on Pyramids, amidst the Skies.
Whence they look down on Fate, which will not stay,
But on the next curl'd Billow hasts away;
Nor more his Art can the wise Steersman show,
The Helm is gone, and the next staggering blow
Drives in some treach'rous Plank, and down they go:
Half fill'd with Waves, they on their Master think,
One dreadful Cry they make—We sink! we sink!
All pray'd, but Judas most, and dreading Fate,
Invoke the Saviour's Aid, if that not now too late.
He rose, he came, he hear'd their gasping crys,
He came with Love and Pity in his Eyes.
Chid the mad Waves, rebuk'd the blust'ring Wind;
These gently roll, that murmurs soft and kind,
The Billows sink, not into a Gulph, but Plain,
And mild Etesian Whispers fan the Main:
All in a moment husht and quiet laid,
Still'd by his Word, as when the World he made:
When Sooty Waves did first thro' Chaos roar,
Whose turbid motion knew no rest nor shore:
Till the Almighty Word its Bosom prest,
And hovering o'r dispos'd to gentle rest,
With a fair Birth thence did it pregnant prove,
And Light was born to Chaos and to Love.
Thus here—when reaching strait the wisht-for shore,
All trembling kneel, and their dread Lord adore.
Soon known the guilty Dæmons shun his sight,
And sink, confessing, down to conscious Night:
Yet more illustrious Wonders him attend,
When last to Salem he his steps did bend,
The Sun looks biggest near his Journeys end:
For now, o'r lofty Olivet they go,
And see far off the clust'ring Town below:
Descending thence, among the Trees they spy
Thy happy Walls, delightful Bethany!
A Villa where good Lazarus was Lord,
And often at his Hospitable Board,
With Plenty and with Welcom spred did see
Our Saviour and his faithful Family.
Nor cou'd they pass his Gates, invited in
By Martha and repenting Magdalen:
Wise Martha still kept home, and safer there
Her Brother's Houshold made her humble Care.
Fair Magdalena had at Court been bred,
On Pleasures downy Pillows laid her Head;
There found her Vertue but a weak Defence,
And lost her Fame, and lost her Innocence.
Her Soul by Vanity and Pride possest,
And many a blacker foul Infernal Guest;
All which our Saviour's Word expell'd her Breast.
Each Hell-bred Fiend at once he chas'd away,
Chas'd all the ugly Mists, and let in Day;
By a severe Repentance did restore,
And made her Soul far brighter than before:
Thus an illustrious Penitent she prov'd,
And much she pray'd, and much she wept and lov'd:
To Bethany then back did grieving come,
By her kind Brother gladly welcom'd home;
When Truths so terrible their Lord express'd:
All gladly, if they dar'd, would him reprove,
As Cephas did with his too forward Love:
Mistaken men! your kindness soars too high;
Or He, or you and all the World must die:
He knew the fatal Price that must be paid
Long long before the World's Foundations laid;
He knew the Hour, and thither did proceed,
Where He, th' atoning Lamb, must mildly bleed;
To proud Jerusalem, out-stretching high
9
Charg'd with so many a Prophet's Blood before
The Guilt of his could only sink 'em more.
Through Galilee's wild Coasts his Progress takes,
But unproclaim'd and silent Journeys makes:
In vain, alas, he strives to be conceal'd,
He's like the Sun by his own Rays reveal'd:
See where from far the crowding Regions meet,
And cast th' infirm and desp'rate at his feet!
Where these from old Bethabara they bring,
And these from Father Jordan's double Spring:
Nor Devils nor Diseases longer stay,
When warn'd by his Almighty Voice away.
The Lame their Feet without their Crutches find,
His Word, as to the World, gives Light to th' Blind,
Such Light as cheers at once their Eyes and Mind.
What Angel's Eloquence cou'd equal prove
To all the Wonders of his Pow'r and Love?
How oft, with the long Days fatigues opprest,
His Works the God, his pain the Man confest,
His toilsom Labour call'd for gentle rest?
Oft least officious Crowds shou'd him surprize,
He from the Sea seeks what the Land denies,
In a small Boat of fair Bethsaida's Town
Which Zebedee and faithful Cephas own:
These, once when length'ning Shadows warn'd away
From the dim Heav'ns the dying Lamp of Day
He bids forsake the Galilean Shore,
And with his faithful Houshold waft him o'r
For Gadaras strong Turrets, rais'd so high
As Heav'n and Earth, they'd both at once defy:
They lancht, whilst he his humble Cabin takes
And sleeps, tho' all his Guard of Angels wakes:
When strait a thick black mist began to rise
Still dark'ning more and more the disappearing Skies:
Old Zebedee by long experience, wise,
When first intent he view'd the thick'ning Air,
Calls up his Mates, and bids for Storms prepare;
He to the Helm, he knew to guide it best,
And to their well known Quarters all the rest:
10
With one black Mantle strait all Heav'n's o'rcast:
Whether the Enemy assay'd in vain,
What he had lost at Land, at Sea to gain;
Or hop'd he by surprizal might prevail,
Where by fair Force he durst no more assail:
Or whether Nature only sent the Storm
T'experience what her Master cou'd perform;
Suffer'd by him whose Word can Storms remove,
To shew his God-like Pow'r, and God-like Love:
But whether it from Nature's Storehouse fell,
Or issu'd from the baleful Caves of Hell;
Still more and more its threatning Rage prevails,
And from the Mast soon rends the Paper-Sails:
The Dead-Sea roars, and sulph'rous Vapours come
In rolling Flames, from its Infernal Womb,
From Regions wide away loud Ruine bear,
As gathering Thunders bellow round the Air.
Old Jordan hears, its Waters backward run
(As thrice before) the fatal Shock to shun,
Against the Stream rolls in th' unnatural Tide,
And should'ring Seas upon each other ride:
Wind against Wind, Floods dashing Floods arise,
One Whirlpool all the Waves, one Whirl-wind all the Skies:
Cold sleet from every Quarter driving comes,
And Fear as much each trembling Hand benums:
While from the Hollow of a dreadful Cloud,
Fates angry Messengers for passage crowd,
And o'r affrighted Mortals roar aloud:
Broad Sheets of ghastly Flame from thence are sent
Discovering either wrathful Element,
Whose Horrors strike their Eyes with cruel Light,
Thro' the dire Chasms of interrupted Night:
They saw the boyling Deep roll wide away,
While Nature's secret Chambers open lay:
So vast the Gulph, it shew'd a horrid Shore,
And Rocks and Sands and Paths unknown before;
Aloft black low'ring Worlds of Water rave,
And greedy Death broods o'r each threat'ning Wave,
Thither on Surges tumultuous they rise,
11
Whence they look down on Fate, which will not stay,
But on the next curl'd Billow hasts away;
Nor more his Art can the wise Steersman show,
The Helm is gone, and the next staggering blow
Drives in some treach'rous Plank, and down they go:
Half fill'd with Waves, they on their Master think,
One dreadful Cry they make—We sink! we sink!
All pray'd, but Judas most, and dreading Fate,
Invoke the Saviour's Aid, if that not now too late.
He rose, he came, he hear'd their gasping crys,
He came with Love and Pity in his Eyes.
Chid the mad Waves, rebuk'd the blust'ring Wind;
These gently roll, that murmurs soft and kind,
The Billows sink, not into a Gulph, but Plain,
And mild Etesian Whispers fan the Main:
All in a moment husht and quiet laid,
Still'd by his Word, as when the World he made:
When Sooty Waves did first thro' Chaos roar,
Whose turbid motion knew no rest nor shore:
Till the Almighty Word its Bosom prest,
And hovering o'r dispos'd to gentle rest,
With a fair Birth thence did it pregnant prove,
And Light was born to Chaos and to Love.
Thus here—when reaching strait the wisht-for shore,
All trembling kneel, and their dread Lord adore.
Soon known the guilty Dæmons shun his sight,
And sink, confessing, down to conscious Night:
Yet more illustrious Wonders him attend,
When last to Salem he his steps did bend,
The Sun looks biggest near his Journeys end:
For now, o'r lofty Olivet they go,
And see far off the clust'ring Town below:
Descending thence, among the Trees they spy
Thy happy Walls, delightful Bethany!
A Villa where good Lazarus was Lord,
And often at his Hospitable Board,
With Plenty and with Welcom spred did see
Our Saviour and his faithful Family.
Nor cou'd they pass his Gates, invited in
12
Wise Martha still kept home, and safer there
Her Brother's Houshold made her humble Care.
Fair Magdalena had at Court been bred,
On Pleasures downy Pillows laid her Head;
There found her Vertue but a weak Defence,
And lost her Fame, and lost her Innocence.
Her Soul by Vanity and Pride possest,
And many a blacker foul Infernal Guest;
All which our Saviour's Word expell'd her Breast.
Each Hell-bred Fiend at once he chas'd away,
Chas'd all the ugly Mists, and let in Day;
By a severe Repentance did restore,
And made her Soul far brighter than before:
Thus an illustrious Penitent she prov'd,
And much she pray'd, and much she wept and lov'd:
To Bethany then back did grieving come,
By her kind Brother gladly welcom'd home;
Who now, beneath a Fever's mortal Rage,
Beyond the feeble power of Art t'asswage,
For Life, just gasping lay; and by his Bed
The pos'd Physician sadly shakes his Head,
Thence with slow steps in silence walks to th' door,
Gives him for gone, his Skill can do no more:
Tho' first with Grief confus'd and hurry'd all,
Their absent Guest at length to mind they call;
To him in hast a Messenger they send,
To come, if not too late, and save his Friend,
Him whom he lov'd. He bids 'em not despair,
“There was no danger, and he'd soon be there:
But whilst he in the neighb'ring Regions staid
And from his gasping Friend his help delaid,
His Soul from mortal Misery was fled,
And his cold Corps entomb'd among the dead;
The Funeral Pomp t'his widow'd House return,
And his sad Sister's Loss condole and mourn:
While deeply they remain'd lamenting here,
Tidings at length were brought, our Lord was near:
The Sisters rise their God-like Guest to meet,
And prostrate thrown with tears embrace his Feet,
And tho' they cannot doubt his Love or Care,
Both join in this—
“Their Brother had not dy'd, had he been there.
The Jews, who the two Mourners still attend,
So good a Neighbour, and so kind a Friend
Justly lament, all his good Actions tell,
And own there's few that liv'd or dy'd so well:
With such a general Tide of Grief opprest,
Our Saviour groan'd and wept among the rest:
He own'd himself a Man, his Passions mov'd
Like ours, he wept the Loss of what he lov'd:
Agen he wept, agen did inly groan:
When at the Grave arriv'd, a pond'rous Stone
After the antient Rite its Mouth secur'd,
(The Body in a spacious Vault immur'd)
This Jesus bids remove, when Martha cry'd,
“'Tis now so long, dear Master, since he dy'd,
Such putrid Steams must needs infect the Air,
“As neither these, nor you his Friend can bear:
To whom our Lord—“Believe and Wonders see,
“Believe and leave the rest to Heav'n and Me.
The Stone remov'd, to Heav'n he lifts his Eyes,
And prays a while, then bids his Friend, Arise!
Tho' dead, the Son of God's dread Voice he knows,
Tho' dead, at his Almighty Voice he rose;
A Shout th' Croud amaz'd around 'em gives,
“Dread Son of God, they cry, he lives, he lives!
Upon his Neck the ravish'd Sisters fell,
And almost need another Miracle,
Them from their furious Transports to revive,
Half dead with Joy, that he's agen alive.
Beyond the feeble power of Art t'asswage,
For Life, just gasping lay; and by his Bed
The pos'd Physician sadly shakes his Head,
Thence with slow steps in silence walks to th' door,
Gives him for gone, his Skill can do no more:
Tho' first with Grief confus'd and hurry'd all,
Their absent Guest at length to mind they call;
To him in hast a Messenger they send,
To come, if not too late, and save his Friend,
Him whom he lov'd. He bids 'em not despair,
“There was no danger, and he'd soon be there:
But whilst he in the neighb'ring Regions staid
And from his gasping Friend his help delaid,
His Soul from mortal Misery was fled,
And his cold Corps entomb'd among the dead;
The Funeral Pomp t'his widow'd House return,
And his sad Sister's Loss condole and mourn:
While deeply they remain'd lamenting here,
Tidings at length were brought, our Lord was near:
The Sisters rise their God-like Guest to meet,
And prostrate thrown with tears embrace his Feet,
13
Both join in this—
“Their Brother had not dy'd, had he been there.
The Jews, who the two Mourners still attend,
So good a Neighbour, and so kind a Friend
Justly lament, all his good Actions tell,
And own there's few that liv'd or dy'd so well:
With such a general Tide of Grief opprest,
Our Saviour groan'd and wept among the rest:
He own'd himself a Man, his Passions mov'd
Like ours, he wept the Loss of what he lov'd:
Agen he wept, agen did inly groan:
When at the Grave arriv'd, a pond'rous Stone
After the antient Rite its Mouth secur'd,
(The Body in a spacious Vault immur'd)
This Jesus bids remove, when Martha cry'd,
“'Tis now so long, dear Master, since he dy'd,
Such putrid Steams must needs infect the Air,
“As neither these, nor you his Friend can bear:
To whom our Lord—“Believe and Wonders see,
“Believe and leave the rest to Heav'n and Me.
The Stone remov'd, to Heav'n he lifts his Eyes,
And prays a while, then bids his Friend, Arise!
Tho' dead, the Son of God's dread Voice he knows,
Tho' dead, at his Almighty Voice he rose;
A Shout th' Croud amaz'd around 'em gives,
“Dread Son of God, they cry, he lives, he lives!
Upon his Neck the ravish'd Sisters fell,
And almost need another Miracle,
Them from their furious Transports to revive,
Half dead with Joy, that he's agen alive.
Nor here would our meek Saviour longer stay,
But from the faithless Croud withdraws away;
Withdraws the Elders Envy to repress,
And shelters in the lonely Wilderness.
In doing good his happy hours he spent,
and scatter'd Miracles where e'r he went:
Here liv'd retir'd, till the great Pasch was nigh,
When he, th' immaculate Lamb, was doom'd to die.
Then mildly back returns, devoted still
To do or suffer his great Father's Will.
Descending from the Olive-bearing Hill.
Rich Simon him accosts; nor long before
Our Lord did him to humane Sight restore,
A frightful Leper he, recluse remain'd,
Till by his Word he Health and Ease regain'd.
On his Estate now splendid lives, and great,
Near Bethany his fair Paternal Seat:
Nor has he yet forgot how much he ows,
But due Respect t'his great Physician shows.
Him passing near, he gently did arrest,
And tells him, he that Night must be his Guest,
Since he a little Banquet did prepare,
And Laz'rus and his Sisters would be there,
He and his Twelve: Nor did our Lord deny
His hospitable Wish to gratifie.
Never morose or supercilious he;
His Converse always open was and free;
Life's moderate Pleasures tasts, if in his way,
If not, could as content, without e'm stay.
In a cool Summer Parlor all they found
Prepar'd, rich Tyrian Carpets spread the Ground,
Hangings as rich adorn'd the stately Room,
The dear-bought Work of Sidon's noble Loom:
On which, whilst on the Couch good Simon plac'd
Our Lord and his, unsatisfi'd they gaz'd,
Which Sodom's Fate inscrib'd so lively bore,
It look'd almost as dreadful as before:
The Workman's Art did here so happy prove,
You'd think the very Figures weep and move:
And there so plain the flaming Cities show,
Spectators fear, lest they should Statues grow;
Like Lot's Apostate Wife—See where she stands,
And backward throws her longing Eyes and Hands!
Her Eyes and Hands, from whence warm Life was fled,
These with a careless stroke left pale and dead.
That Cheek that's nearest fresh and ruddy shows,
T'other, as seems, each moment paler grows.
Her Hair part hast'ning Fate did slowly bind,
And part still faintly waver'd in the Wind:
One Foot seems rais'd, as thence its Load 'twould bear,
But t'other, like a Statue's rooted there:
Just half transform'd, as yet an equal Strife
Betwixt Death's chilling Frost and strugling Life:
'Till by degrees she seem'd of Sense bereft,
And still the more you look'd, the less was left;
Yet in her Face, Fear, Anger, Pity strive,
As skilful Artists make their Marble live:
Not far before the good old Man appears,
Thence by his Angels hasten'd, and his Fears;
The small Remains of Sodom with him bears,
And moistens with his Tears his Silver Hairs:
See him scarce reach'd to little Zoar's Walls,
When from black Clouds the ruddy Vengeance falls:
(Big drops of flaming Gold profusely spent
To th' Life the fatal Show'r did represent:)
See where the curst Inhabitants look pale,
As down it drives on Siddim's guilty Vale!
See where with fearful Shrieks they pierce the Sky!
Almost you'd think you heard the wretched Cry
For what they long despis'd; now all too late,
Deep swallow'd in inevitable Fate.
Next see old Jordan from above prepare
With Silver Streams, (true Silver Streams they were)
To wash their Walls; but when he heard the News,
As fain he would the hated Task refuse,
See where a while his Fate and theirs he shuns,
And bending back by strong Machærus runs!
His Fate in vain he shuns by this short stay,
Relapsing through the Vale he glides away,
And makes a black uncomfortable Bay:
Here wand'ring Birds above forget to fly,
And there the glitt'ring Fishes floating lie,
Choak'd with Sulphureous Fumes they gasp and die:
The Fields around, the Regions of Despair;
No Beast durst graze, no Shrub or Herb grew there:
Above, these Words—
Writ in the antient Hebrew Character:
“Learn, Mortals hence, to dread the Immortal's Ire!
“Here fiery Lust was purg'd with hotter Fire.
But from the faithless Croud withdraws away;
Withdraws the Elders Envy to repress,
And shelters in the lonely Wilderness.
In doing good his happy hours he spent,
and scatter'd Miracles where e'r he went:
Here liv'd retir'd, till the great Pasch was nigh,
When he, th' immaculate Lamb, was doom'd to die.
14
To do or suffer his great Father's Will.
Descending from the Olive-bearing Hill.
Rich Simon him accosts; nor long before
Our Lord did him to humane Sight restore,
A frightful Leper he, recluse remain'd,
Till by his Word he Health and Ease regain'd.
On his Estate now splendid lives, and great,
Near Bethany his fair Paternal Seat:
Nor has he yet forgot how much he ows,
But due Respect t'his great Physician shows.
Him passing near, he gently did arrest,
And tells him, he that Night must be his Guest,
Since he a little Banquet did prepare,
And Laz'rus and his Sisters would be there,
He and his Twelve: Nor did our Lord deny
His hospitable Wish to gratifie.
Never morose or supercilious he;
His Converse always open was and free;
Life's moderate Pleasures tasts, if in his way,
If not, could as content, without e'm stay.
In a cool Summer Parlor all they found
Prepar'd, rich Tyrian Carpets spread the Ground,
Hangings as rich adorn'd the stately Room,
The dear-bought Work of Sidon's noble Loom:
On which, whilst on the Couch good Simon plac'd
Our Lord and his, unsatisfi'd they gaz'd,
Which Sodom's Fate inscrib'd so lively bore,
It look'd almost as dreadful as before:
The Workman's Art did here so happy prove,
You'd think the very Figures weep and move:
And there so plain the flaming Cities show,
Spectators fear, lest they should Statues grow;
Like Lot's Apostate Wife—See where she stands,
And backward throws her longing Eyes and Hands!
Her Eyes and Hands, from whence warm Life was fled,
These with a careless stroke left pale and dead.
That Cheek that's nearest fresh and ruddy shows,
T'other, as seems, each moment paler grows.
Her Hair part hast'ning Fate did slowly bind,
15
One Foot seems rais'd, as thence its Load 'twould bear,
But t'other, like a Statue's rooted there:
Just half transform'd, as yet an equal Strife
Betwixt Death's chilling Frost and strugling Life:
'Till by degrees she seem'd of Sense bereft,
And still the more you look'd, the less was left;
Yet in her Face, Fear, Anger, Pity strive,
As skilful Artists make their Marble live:
Not far before the good old Man appears,
Thence by his Angels hasten'd, and his Fears;
The small Remains of Sodom with him bears,
And moistens with his Tears his Silver Hairs:
See him scarce reach'd to little Zoar's Walls,
When from black Clouds the ruddy Vengeance falls:
(Big drops of flaming Gold profusely spent
To th' Life the fatal Show'r did represent:)
See where the curst Inhabitants look pale,
As down it drives on Siddim's guilty Vale!
See where with fearful Shrieks they pierce the Sky!
Almost you'd think you heard the wretched Cry
For what they long despis'd; now all too late,
Deep swallow'd in inevitable Fate.
Next see old Jordan from above prepare
With Silver Streams, (true Silver Streams they were)
To wash their Walls; but when he heard the News,
As fain he would the hated Task refuse,
See where a while his Fate and theirs he shuns,
And bending back by strong Machærus runs!
His Fate in vain he shuns by this short stay,
Relapsing through the Vale he glides away,
And makes a black uncomfortable Bay:
Here wand'ring Birds above forget to fly,
And there the glitt'ring Fishes floating lie,
Choak'd with Sulphureous Fumes they gasp and die:
The Fields around, the Regions of Despair;
No Beast durst graze, no Shrub or Herb grew there:
Above, these Words—
Writ in the antient Hebrew Character:
“Learn, Mortals hence, to dread the Immortal's Ire!
16
Here gaz'd they till good Lazarus was come
With his fair Sisters to the festal room;
When thence their Eyes unwillingly they take,
And from the pleasant Ecstasie awake:
The twice-born Youth a low Obeisance made,
And for his Life his Thanks devoutly paid:
Now on their Seats are plac'd each chearful Guest,
All but wise Martha, who directs the Feast,
And Magdalen, who fell with Sighs profound
And plenteous Tears effus'd upon the ground,
With his fair Sisters to the festal room;
When thence their Eyes unwillingly they take,
And from the pleasant Ecstasie awake:
The twice-born Youth a low Obeisance made,
And for his Life his Thanks devoutly paid:
Now on their Seats are plac'd each chearful Guest,
All but wise Martha, who directs the Feast,
And Magdalen, who fell with Sighs profound
And plenteous Tears effus'd upon the ground,
At Jesus feet; that Place she'd have or none,
Unworthy ev'n of that herself must own:
A Viol of rich Essence with her brings,
Which once she thought a Ransom ev'n for Kings,
When 'twas her Life, her Heav'n to charm and please,
Dissolv'd in lawless Luxury and Ease:
This o'r his Feet she breaks, thence crowding pour
Of precious Drops a rich, a fragrant Show'r;
Which with inestimable Sweets perfume
And scatter all Arabia round the Room:
Then her bright Hair, which oft in Curls displaid,
At once had Nets and Chains for Lovers made,
She better now employs, whilst from her Eyes
Profusely washt, with that his Feet she dries:
Some murm'ring cry, this Cost had been employ'd
To better use, if by the Poor enjoy'd;
Iscariot chief, then did the Fiend begin
In his base Soul to scatter Seeds of Sin:
Not so our Lord, who with an equal mind
Declares, against his Funeral 'twas design'd:
And that this liberal kindness on him shown,
Shou'd ever be to after ages known:
Trembling those fatal Words th' Apostles hear,
And deep agen revolve with anxious Fear.
Unworthy ev'n of that herself must own:
A Viol of rich Essence with her brings,
Which once she thought a Ransom ev'n for Kings,
When 'twas her Life, her Heav'n to charm and please,
Dissolv'd in lawless Luxury and Ease:
This o'r his Feet she breaks, thence crowding pour
Of precious Drops a rich, a fragrant Show'r;
Which with inestimable Sweets perfume
And scatter all Arabia round the Room:
Then her bright Hair, which oft in Curls displaid,
At once had Nets and Chains for Lovers made,
She better now employs, whilst from her Eyes
Profusely washt, with that his Feet she dries:
Some murm'ring cry, this Cost had been employ'd
To better use, if by the Poor enjoy'd;
Iscariot chief, then did the Fiend begin
In his base Soul to scatter Seeds of Sin:
Not so our Lord, who with an equal mind
Declares, against his Funeral 'twas design'd:
And that this liberal kindness on him shown,
Shou'd ever be to after ages known:
Trembling those fatal Words th' Apostles hear,
And deep agen revolve with anxious Fear.
That Night at pleasant Bethany they stay,
Waiting our Lord, who the succeeding day
T'wards the fair Town his careful Footsteps bends
At Bethphage met by Crowds of wond'ring Friends.
See there the higth to which he e'r aspir'd!
See there the highest Pomp he e'r desir'd!
No Horse, no Chariot him to Court must bring;
But a mean Ass, bear Salems humble King.
See where the giddy Crowd just Homage pay,
With nat'ral easie Pomp prepare his way!
Branches and Cloaths through all his Paths are thrown,
Borro'wing the Palms fair Garments with their own:
Hosanna all the Cry, Hosanna loud
Is now the Breath of all the giddy Crowd,
Which soon they'll change to a far diff'rent Cry;
Soon their Hosanna will be Crucifie!
To him not hid, so well who all things knows,
His fickle Friends, and firm invet'rate Foes:
Who oft unmov'd had turn'd the Leaves of Fate,
Who meets unmov'd their Flatt'ry as their Hate;
When all around he with a Sigh survey'd
Which in unpity'd Dust must soon be laid,
And his great Father to avert it, pray'd,
He back his careful Steps did thence convey
From the hoarse Tumults of the Town and Day;
Behind, the noise Crowd and Streets he leaves,
Him, Night approaching, Bethany receives;
His humble Couch by Innocence prepar'd,
While his own Menial Angels mount the Guard.
What tho' all Act, tho' all pure Mind they be,
Scarce are they earlier at their Hymns than he.
Waiting our Lord, who the succeeding day
T'wards the fair Town his careful Footsteps bends
At Bethphage met by Crowds of wond'ring Friends.
See there the higth to which he e'r aspir'd!
17
No Horse, no Chariot him to Court must bring;
But a mean Ass, bear Salems humble King.
See where the giddy Crowd just Homage pay,
With nat'ral easie Pomp prepare his way!
Branches and Cloaths through all his Paths are thrown,
Borro'wing the Palms fair Garments with their own:
Hosanna all the Cry, Hosanna loud
Is now the Breath of all the giddy Crowd,
Which soon they'll change to a far diff'rent Cry;
Soon their Hosanna will be Crucifie!
To him not hid, so well who all things knows,
His fickle Friends, and firm invet'rate Foes:
Who oft unmov'd had turn'd the Leaves of Fate,
Who meets unmov'd their Flatt'ry as their Hate;
When all around he with a Sigh survey'd
Which in unpity'd Dust must soon be laid,
And his great Father to avert it, pray'd,
He back his careful Steps did thence convey
From the hoarse Tumults of the Town and Day;
Behind, the noise Crowd and Streets he leaves,
Him, Night approaching, Bethany receives;
His humble Couch by Innocence prepar'd,
While his own Menial Angels mount the Guard.
What tho' all Act, tho' all pure Mind they be,
Scarce are they earlier at their Hymns than he.
An Hill there is, which fronts with decent Pride
Illustrious Solyma's bright Eastern side:
With Groves of Olives crown'd, and thence did claim
From times unknown its everlasting Name;
Whose three Degrees each other higher bear
Rivalling the three Regions of the Air;
Whence those who to the third proud Top will go
May see the City and the Clouds below.
A lovely Vale creeps gently winding down
And fills the Space betwixt the Hill and Town;
Or whose green Breast deceitful Kidron flows,
A Torrent now, and now a Brook she shows;
And when the Earth scorch'd by the Dog-stars beams
Most wants her Moisture, most she hides her Streams.
(True Map of worldly Joys, so short their stay,
So imperceptibly they glide away.)
By Chemosh and by Moloch first it runs,
And the wise Kings disgraceful Follies shuns:
Weak'ned by Age, and by his Wives betray'd
Them first his Idols, then their Gods he made.
Due East from these a little Villa leaves,
Which flows with Oil, and thence its Name receives.
Gethsemane they call't, and by its side
Full on the Edge o'th' Mountains second Pride,
Lies a sweet Garden, pleasantly retir'd,
Not for large barren Walks and Art admir'd;
No Beauties forc'd or regular appear,
A lovely charming Wildness revels here.
Brown Walks and Allies green around it ran,
Where Nature scorn'd to ask the Aid of Man;
Where the rich Olives fruitful Arbors grow,
And Physic, Food and Ease at once bestow:
Or the triumphant Palm, for Victors made
Cross the sweet Walks projects its lovely Shade.
[“Let others Laurels court, the Palm be mine,
“Which yields in barren Wasts both Fruit and Wine;
“Which rises prest, whose faithful Branches bend
“O'r Rocks and Floods to meet its charming Friend.]
Illustrious Solyma's bright Eastern side:
With Groves of Olives crown'd, and thence did claim
From times unknown its everlasting Name;
Whose three Degrees each other higher bear
Rivalling the three Regions of the Air;
Whence those who to the third proud Top will go
May see the City and the Clouds below.
A lovely Vale creeps gently winding down
And fills the Space betwixt the Hill and Town;
Or whose green Breast deceitful Kidron flows,
A Torrent now, and now a Brook she shows;
And when the Earth scorch'd by the Dog-stars beams
Most wants her Moisture, most she hides her Streams.
18
So imperceptibly they glide away.)
By Chemosh and by Moloch first it runs,
And the wise Kings disgraceful Follies shuns:
Weak'ned by Age, and by his Wives betray'd
Them first his Idols, then their Gods he made.
Due East from these a little Villa leaves,
Which flows with Oil, and thence its Name receives.
Gethsemane they call't, and by its side
Full on the Edge o'th' Mountains second Pride,
Lies a sweet Garden, pleasantly retir'd,
Not for large barren Walks and Art admir'd;
No Beauties forc'd or regular appear,
A lovely charming Wildness revels here.
Brown Walks and Allies green around it ran,
Where Nature scorn'd to ask the Aid of Man;
Where the rich Olives fruitful Arbors grow,
And Physic, Food and Ease at once bestow:
Or the triumphant Palm, for Victors made
Cross the sweet Walks projects its lovely Shade.
[“Let others Laurels court, the Palm be mine,
“Which yields in barren Wasts both Fruit and Wine;
“Which rises prest, whose faithful Branches bend
“O'r Rocks and Floods to meet its charming Friend.]
Here, while the World lay drown'd in thoughtless Rest,
Nor dreamt of Joys which he and his possest,
E'r Heau'ns fair Lamp did o'r the Hills aspire
Powd'ring their Silver Heads with Golden Fire,
Drawn by Celestial Love's far brighter Flame
He and his chosen Twelve not seldom came:
Celestial Love they think, they talk, they sing,
“And on the Cherub-Contemplations Wing
In Joys that Earth can neither take nor give
Eternal Love's bright Face they see, and live.
Nor dreamt of Joys which he and his possest,
E'r Heau'ns fair Lamp did o'r the Hills aspire
Powd'ring their Silver Heads with Golden Fire,
Drawn by Celestial Love's far brighter Flame
He and his chosen Twelve not seldom came:
Celestial Love they think, they talk, they sing,
“And on the Cherub-Contemplations Wing
In Joys that Earth can neither take nor give
Eternal Love's bright Face they see, and live.
Love is pure Act, its Task is never done,
This and the other World's true Soul and Sun;
Not that weak foolish Fire which rears its Head
In mortal Breasts, no sooner born than dead;
But immaterial, bright Celestial Love,
“Kindled on sight of those fair things above;
Where holy Souls, all made of that and Fire,
“Loud Praise incessant sing, and never tire.
But ev'n as our dim Globe immers'd in Night,
From dregs of Chaos made, first robb'd of Light,
Can yet reflect bright beauteous Beams, and send
Those Rays to Heav'n, which Heav'n at first did lend:
So Love Divine, whose Circles farther run
Than that eternal Wanderer, the Sun,
From yon, fair Fund of Bliss, fair Realms of Day
First throws its Seeds around our humble Clay:
How sweetly thence they spring? how kindly rise?
Claim their high Birth, and mean their native Skies,
Which humbler here, and loftier there we see;
Smile in a Flow'r, and flourish in a Tree,
And lend sweet Philomel her pretty Throat,
Answer'd around by every Rivals Note;
On Bushes, Trees and Plains their Voice they raise,
And teach forgetful Man his Maker's Praise.
The heav'nly Lark from yon green Turf up-springs,
How do I envy both her Voice and Wings?
Mounts like an Angel, like an Angel sings;
But little Weight so little Matter bears,
Soft-wafted on her own harmonious Airs;
From thence surveys at the first opening Dawn
Each smiling Field, and every gilded Lawn:
With her each Soul whom heav'nly Ardors please,
Shakes off base Slumber and inglorious Ease:
How beauteous the Creation now, how bright?
Thus rose the infant World from old Original Night,
And thus look'd Paradise—.
This and the other World's true Soul and Sun;
Not that weak foolish Fire which rears its Head
In mortal Breasts, no sooner born than dead;
But immaterial, bright Celestial Love,
“Kindled on sight of those fair things above;
19
“Loud Praise incessant sing, and never tire.
But ev'n as our dim Globe immers'd in Night,
From dregs of Chaos made, first robb'd of Light,
Can yet reflect bright beauteous Beams, and send
Those Rays to Heav'n, which Heav'n at first did lend:
So Love Divine, whose Circles farther run
Than that eternal Wanderer, the Sun,
From yon, fair Fund of Bliss, fair Realms of Day
First throws its Seeds around our humble Clay:
How sweetly thence they spring? how kindly rise?
Claim their high Birth, and mean their native Skies,
Which humbler here, and loftier there we see;
Smile in a Flow'r, and flourish in a Tree,
And lend sweet Philomel her pretty Throat,
Answer'd around by every Rivals Note;
On Bushes, Trees and Plains their Voice they raise,
And teach forgetful Man his Maker's Praise.
The heav'nly Lark from yon green Turf up-springs,
How do I envy both her Voice and Wings?
Mounts like an Angel, like an Angel sings;
But little Weight so little Matter bears,
Soft-wafted on her own harmonious Airs;
From thence surveys at the first opening Dawn
Each smiling Field, and every gilded Lawn:
With her each Soul whom heav'nly Ardors please,
Shakes off base Slumber and inglorious Ease:
How beauteous the Creation now, how bright?
Thus rose the infant World from old Original Night,
And thus look'd Paradise—.
Thus, clearest Beam! that e'r on Earth did shine!
O loveliest Efflux of the Light Divine!
Thus didst thou all thy happy Morns improve,
Thou Height of Heav'nly Power and Heav'nly Love!
Whether tall Tabor stoop'd his Head to meet
And welcom thither thy triumphant Feet;
Or thou by hollow Kidron's tumbling Spring
Didst with thy faithful Twelve high Anthems sing,
Hymning th' eternal Father, who look'd down
And his wing'd Courtiers sent their Lord to own,
Whilest all around th' attentive Angels hung
Devouring ev'ry Accent of thy Tongue,
And each blest Ode in a full Chorus sung.
O loveliest Efflux of the Light Divine!
Thus didst thou all thy happy Morns improve,
Thou Height of Heav'nly Power and Heav'nly Love!
Whether tall Tabor stoop'd his Head to meet
And welcom thither thy triumphant Feet;
Or thou by hollow Kidron's tumbling Spring
Didst with thy faithful Twelve high Anthems sing,
Hymning th' eternal Father, who look'd down
And his wing'd Courtiers sent their Lord to own,
20
Devouring ev'ry Accent of thy Tongue,
And each blest Ode in a full Chorus sung.
Nor are, great King! (thy mighty Conquests o'r,
And thou receiv'd where high enthron'd before)
Sweet Fields disdain'd, nor need the Man despair,
Who early seeks ev'n yet to find thee there.
And thou receiv'd where high enthron'd before)
Sweet Fields disdain'd, nor need the Man despair,
Who early seeks ev'n yet to find thee there.
Yes, thou art here, my Master, thou art here!
My busie Heart foretold my Love was near.
Let Earth go where it will, I'll not repine,
Nor can unhappy be, while Heav'n is mine.
Forget not, if that Freedom won't offend,
(O that he could deserve the Name!) your Friend.
Divinest Saviour, of a spotless Maid,
The spotless Son, your humblest Suppliant aid!
Who, e'r the dappled Morn has dress'd the Skies,
To your blest Palace lifts his longing Eyes!
Whether in old Jërne's angry Seas,
Near Mona Isle, or the blue Hebrides;
Or from the Face of Men remov'd away,
In a mean Cot compos'd of Reeds and Clay,
Wasting in Sighs th' uncomfortable Day:
Near where th' unhospitable Humber roars
Devouring by degrees the neighb'ring Shores:
Or by dear Mother Isis stretch'd along,
Or Father Tame he twist the Sacred Song;
Which, if your Name eternity can give,
Shall down to Twenty long long Ages live?
My busie Heart foretold my Love was near.
Let Earth go where it will, I'll not repine,
Nor can unhappy be, while Heav'n is mine.
Forget not, if that Freedom won't offend,
(O that he could deserve the Name!) your Friend.
Divinest Saviour, of a spotless Maid,
The spotless Son, your humblest Suppliant aid!
Who, e'r the dappled Morn has dress'd the Skies,
To your blest Palace lifts his longing Eyes!
Whether in old Jërne's angry Seas,
Near Mona Isle, or the blue Hebrides;
Or from the Face of Men remov'd away,
In a mean Cot compos'd of Reeds and Clay,
Wasting in Sighs th' uncomfortable Day:
Near where th' unhospitable Humber roars
Devouring by degrees the neighb'ring Shores:
Or by dear Mother Isis stretch'd along,
Or Father Tame he twist the Sacred Song;
Which, if your Name eternity can give,
Shall down to Twenty long long Ages live?
Return, my Muse, and sacred Friendship sing!
That most Divine, yet most forgotten Thing.
Shadow of Heav'nly Love! which thou dost show
I'th' clearest Type that we have left below:
But where? Ah where is that to th' Life exprest?
Unsully'd, or by Vice or Interest?
Where, if on Earth, but in our Saviour's Breast?
Then we were sure of Thee, tho' since unknown,
Whether with him agen to Heav'n th' art flown;
In him, who far above all Mortals blest
Repos'd him soft on Love's and Friendship's Breast;
The lov'd Disciple, who his Soul might see,
And knew his Heart almost as well as He.
How closely knit? most intimately one,
Next the Eternal Father and his Son:
A Cæsar's Title less my Envy moves,
Than to be styl'd the Man whom Jesus loves.
What Charms, what Beauties in his Face did shine,
Reflected ever from the Face Divine!
Love in his Eyes, Love in his Face and Air;
Scarce was the Mind within more sweet and fair.
Silent and deep as Crystal Waters flow,
Where Noise above Shallows are found below:
Love is not loud, and if he less express'd,
Yet Time will tell h'has more than all the rest:
The Service for the Loaves he did not chuse,
He Jesus lov'd, and they the King o'th' Jews,
Who might their Countries Enemies disperse,
And triumph o'r the conquer'd Universe.
Of these the Chief did zealou Cephas hold,
Oft in his Masters Cause too warmly bold:
Like hasty Uzzah, when it seem'd to nod,
His forward Hand would prop the Ark of God:
Thus Weakness does Devotion oft supply,
And Faith's too low, when the Pulse beats too high.
Ting'd with the old Traditions of their Land,
The holy Books they could not understand.
How bad the best of men, how dark the Mind,
Where heav'nly Truths clear Rays have never shin'd!
Mildly our Saviour did their Weakness bear;
He knew ev'n his Disciples, Mortals were:
He knew 'twas well-meant Zeal had them betray'd,
And soon forgave those Faults which Love had made:
What if good Cephas warm and eager be?
None dar'd, none did, none suffer'd more than He:
So much his gracious Master him approv'd,
None but the lov'd Disciple more was lov'd,
Who, with his Brother James, of that great Three
Blest Witnesses of his Divinity,
Made the first Rank of Worthies, grac'd to stand
I'th' head of David's Son's immortal Band.
An active Principle inform'd their Breast,
The Love of Jesus would not let e'm rest.
Let Thirst of Glory meaner Souls inspire,
And haunt their Dreams! these, nobler Things desire;
Nor envy such as Bodies only bind,
While they in Truth's soft Chains secure the Mind.
Thus when their Hymns were o'r, and they came down
From Olivet to view the Sacred Town,
(Nor would their Master always private dwell,
Or rob the World t'enrich a lonely Cell,)
Like him, the only business they design'd,
Was th' universal Good of all Mankind:
Their Charity no narrow limits pent,
Open and free, as Light or Element;
And as their Lord himself did not disdain
The Sinner and the humble Publican,
So would their Conversation often be
With worse than both, the haughty Pharisee,
Vain, Supercilious, damning all beside,
Yet oft as full of ignorance as pride,
Oft did his Saint-like Face fowl lewdness hide:
But, as some Tares mix with the purest Grain,
Their Heaps of Dross some Sparks of Gold contain:
Such as not obstinately clos'd their Eyes,
When the bright Sun of Righteousness did rise;
Some glimm'rings in their Souls, some whispers there
Would Jesus the Messias oft declare;
Or, if their Infant-Faith but dawning be,
They wish'd tho' they could scarce believe, 'twas He.
Weak Nicodemus, not his Saviour's sight
Could make his bashful Faith endure the Light:
Yet him a Teacher sent from God confess'd,
And gladly from his Lips wou'd learn the rest.
Gamaliel in the Sacred Pandects read,
By which a Life unblamable he led;
Severely wise, and would known Truths receive,
But Truths well weigh'd, before he'd them believe:
Both in the Sanhedrim of Name and Note;
Both us'd to sway the Senate's weighty Vote:
To these was Joseph joyn'd—
Joseph, for Wisdom and for Counsel fam'd,
Of his fair Birth-place, antient Rama, nam'd:
Rama of old, but Time which changes all,
The Place does now Arimathæa call,
Who near the Town had a convenient Seat,
Still and retir'd, 'twas pleasant all and neat,
Tho' not with pompous Statues proudly great:
Nor poorly mean, but proper to supply
The wants of Nature, not of Luxury:
There borrow'd Streams from Siloam's neighb'ring Well,
In artificial Showers rose and fell;
With unknown Spring still bless'd the happy Ground,
And spread eternal Verdure all around.
There antient Gilead's odoriferous Balm,
(Mixt with tall Cedar and triumphant Palm)
Rich Balm, Judæas's Native, frequent grows,
And with big fragrant Tears inestimably flows.
A few choice Friends, with modest Mirth and Wine,
From Gaza's or Sarepta's noble Vine,
Here would he sometimes meet, and wear away
In no unactive Ease the scorching day:
Nor Vices sly Intrusion could they fear;
Intemp'rance could not hope to enter here;
For, as the wise Egyptians at their Feasts,
Serv'd up a Skull before their chearful Guests,
Around 'em they the same grave Objects see:
The Garden's on the side of Calvary,
Won from the Wast of Death, and wisely there
Good Joseph built himself a Sepulcher.
Who e'r like him is virtuous, wise and brave,
Dares to be chearful, tho' he sees his Grave:
Who sees his Grave, all Thoughts must needs disdain,
Unworthy, Eternity to entertain.
That most Divine, yet most forgotten Thing.
Shadow of Heav'nly Love! which thou dost show
I'th' clearest Type that we have left below:
But where? Ah where is that to th' Life exprest?
Unsully'd, or by Vice or Interest?
Where, if on Earth, but in our Saviour's Breast?
Then we were sure of Thee, tho' since unknown,
Whether with him agen to Heav'n th' art flown;
In him, who far above all Mortals blest
Repos'd him soft on Love's and Friendship's Breast;
The lov'd Disciple, who his Soul might see,
21
How closely knit? most intimately one,
Next the Eternal Father and his Son:
A Cæsar's Title less my Envy moves,
Than to be styl'd the Man whom Jesus loves.
What Charms, what Beauties in his Face did shine,
Reflected ever from the Face Divine!
Love in his Eyes, Love in his Face and Air;
Scarce was the Mind within more sweet and fair.
Silent and deep as Crystal Waters flow,
Where Noise above Shallows are found below:
Love is not loud, and if he less express'd,
Yet Time will tell h'has more than all the rest:
The Service for the Loaves he did not chuse,
He Jesus lov'd, and they the King o'th' Jews,
Who might their Countries Enemies disperse,
And triumph o'r the conquer'd Universe.
Of these the Chief did zealou Cephas hold,
Oft in his Masters Cause too warmly bold:
Like hasty Uzzah, when it seem'd to nod,
His forward Hand would prop the Ark of God:
Thus Weakness does Devotion oft supply,
And Faith's too low, when the Pulse beats too high.
Ting'd with the old Traditions of their Land,
The holy Books they could not understand.
How bad the best of men, how dark the Mind,
Where heav'nly Truths clear Rays have never shin'd!
Mildly our Saviour did their Weakness bear;
He knew ev'n his Disciples, Mortals were:
He knew 'twas well-meant Zeal had them betray'd,
And soon forgave those Faults which Love had made:
What if good Cephas warm and eager be?
None dar'd, none did, none suffer'd more than He:
So much his gracious Master him approv'd,
None but the lov'd Disciple more was lov'd,
Who, with his Brother James, of that great Three
Blest Witnesses of his Divinity,
Made the first Rank of Worthies, grac'd to stand
I'th' head of David's Son's immortal Band.
An active Principle inform'd their Breast,
22
Let Thirst of Glory meaner Souls inspire,
And haunt their Dreams! these, nobler Things desire;
Nor envy such as Bodies only bind,
While they in Truth's soft Chains secure the Mind.
Thus when their Hymns were o'r, and they came down
From Olivet to view the Sacred Town,
(Nor would their Master always private dwell,
Or rob the World t'enrich a lonely Cell,)
Like him, the only business they design'd,
Was th' universal Good of all Mankind:
Their Charity no narrow limits pent,
Open and free, as Light or Element;
And as their Lord himself did not disdain
The Sinner and the humble Publican,
So would their Conversation often be
With worse than both, the haughty Pharisee,
Vain, Supercilious, damning all beside,
Yet oft as full of ignorance as pride,
Oft did his Saint-like Face fowl lewdness hide:
But, as some Tares mix with the purest Grain,
Their Heaps of Dross some Sparks of Gold contain:
Such as not obstinately clos'd their Eyes,
When the bright Sun of Righteousness did rise;
Some glimm'rings in their Souls, some whispers there
Would Jesus the Messias oft declare;
Or, if their Infant-Faith but dawning be,
They wish'd tho' they could scarce believe, 'twas He.
Weak Nicodemus, not his Saviour's sight
Could make his bashful Faith endure the Light:
Yet him a Teacher sent from God confess'd,
And gladly from his Lips wou'd learn the rest.
Gamaliel in the Sacred Pandects read,
By which a Life unblamable he led;
Severely wise, and would known Truths receive,
But Truths well weigh'd, before he'd them believe:
Both in the Sanhedrim of Name and Note;
Both us'd to sway the Senate's weighty Vote:
To these was Joseph joyn'd—
Joseph, for Wisdom and for Counsel fam'd,
23
Rama of old, but Time which changes all,
The Place does now Arimathæa call,
Who near the Town had a convenient Seat,
Still and retir'd, 'twas pleasant all and neat,
Tho' not with pompous Statues proudly great:
Nor poorly mean, but proper to supply
The wants of Nature, not of Luxury:
There borrow'd Streams from Siloam's neighb'ring Well,
In artificial Showers rose and fell;
With unknown Spring still bless'd the happy Ground,
And spread eternal Verdure all around.
There antient Gilead's odoriferous Balm,
(Mixt with tall Cedar and triumphant Palm)
Rich Balm, Judæas's Native, frequent grows,
And with big fragrant Tears inestimably flows.
A few choice Friends, with modest Mirth and Wine,
From Gaza's or Sarepta's noble Vine,
Here would he sometimes meet, and wear away
In no unactive Ease the scorching day:
Nor Vices sly Intrusion could they fear;
Intemp'rance could not hope to enter here;
For, as the wise Egyptians at their Feasts,
Serv'd up a Skull before their chearful Guests,
Around 'em they the same grave Objects see:
The Garden's on the side of Calvary,
Won from the Wast of Death, and wisely there
Good Joseph built himself a Sepulcher.
Who e'r like him is virtuous, wise and brave,
Dares to be chearful, tho' he sees his Grave:
Who sees his Grave, all Thoughts must needs disdain,
Unworthy, Eternity to entertain.
Here Joseph did his happy Hours employ,
And, here himself, and here his Friends enjoy:
Their Conversation noble and refin'd,
Fit to divert and yet improve the Mind.
The Rules of Just and Right, their Weights and Bounds,
And fix'd eternal Truth's eternal Mounds;
What known of God by Reason's darker Sight,
And what by Revelation's noon-day Light;
What of himself the divine Plato knew,
What from the sacred Hebrew Fountains drew;
How short of their great Legislator came,
Who ev'n to Gentile Worlds extends his Name,
By antient Orpheus sung;—
What Rules of Life, couch'd in their Sacred Law,
What distant Truths their antient Seers saw,
Chiefly the promis'd Prince, so oft foretold
By all the Holy Oracles of old.
That great Prophetic Shiloh long design'd
His groaning Countrey's heavy Chains t'unbind;
If this the Age of his Appearance be,
Or if already come, and Jesus He:
Whose Miracles they uncontested saw,
Greater and more than what confirm'd the Law;
Who spake as never Mortal did before,
Yet all his own pure Doctrins liv'd and more.
All speak their Sense, no angry Bigot there,
Less for themselves than Truth concern'd they were,
And that and Reason only held the Chair.
And, here himself, and here his Friends enjoy:
Their Conversation noble and refin'd,
Fit to divert and yet improve the Mind.
The Rules of Just and Right, their Weights and Bounds,
And fix'd eternal Truth's eternal Mounds;
What known of God by Reason's darker Sight,
And what by Revelation's noon-day Light;
24
What from the sacred Hebrew Fountains drew;
How short of their great Legislator came,
Who ev'n to Gentile Worlds extends his Name,
By antient Orpheus sung;—
What Rules of Life, couch'd in their Sacred Law,
What distant Truths their antient Seers saw,
Chiefly the promis'd Prince, so oft foretold
By all the Holy Oracles of old.
That great Prophetic Shiloh long design'd
His groaning Countrey's heavy Chains t'unbind;
If this the Age of his Appearance be,
Or if already come, and Jesus He:
Whose Miracles they uncontested saw,
Greater and more than what confirm'd the Law;
Who spake as never Mortal did before,
Yet all his own pure Doctrins liv'd and more.
All speak their Sense, no angry Bigot there,
Less for themselves than Truth concern'd they were,
And that and Reason only held the Chair.
Them thus employ'd the lov'd Disciple found
In the still Limits of their happy Ground,
Who with the other Two, the Cause the same,
Not uninvited nor unwelcome came;
Whom near fair Rama or old Gibeons Wall
By Gilgal, Jericho, or Jordan's Fall
Joseph had seen the trembling Fiends obey,
And crouding Regions Jesus own, while they
In sacred Water wash'd their Sins away;
These in the Temple met he with him brought
To teach his Friends what them their Master taught;
His Birth, his spotless Life, his Sacred Law,
And all the wondrous Things they heard and saw;
For now the Fourth swift Year declining ran
Since He his weighty Office first began.
In the still Limits of their happy Ground,
Who with the other Two, the Cause the same,
Not uninvited nor unwelcome came;
Whom near fair Rama or old Gibeons Wall
By Gilgal, Jericho, or Jordan's Fall
Joseph had seen the trembling Fiends obey,
And crouding Regions Jesus own, while they
In sacred Water wash'd their Sins away;
These in the Temple met he with him brought
To teach his Friends what them their Master taught;
His Birth, his spotless Life, his Sacred Law,
And all the wondrous Things they heard and saw;
For now the Fourth swift Year declining ran
Since He his weighty Office first began.
The End of the First Book.
| The Life of Our Blessed Lord & Saviour Jesus Christ | |