A paraphrase upon the canticles and some select hymns of the New and Old Testament, with other occasional compositions in English verse. By Samuel Woodford |
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An Hymn and Prayer, To the Holy JESUS my Lord.
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 | A paraphrase upon the canticles |  |
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An Hymn and Prayer, To the Holy JESUS my Lord.
Parode.
[_]
The hint and manner of stanza taken from the last Canzone of Fr. Petrarc. lib. 11. Virgine bella.
I
Jesu, th' Eternal Sun of Righteousness,Unlike our Mortal Suns, which Rise, and Set,
Subliming this, and t'other World with Light,
Love bids me of Thy wondrous Power to Treat,
But how Thy Power, or Wonders to express,
I know not, till Thou make my Darkness bright,
And with Thy Beams dispel the shades of Night:
Therefore I beg Thy aid,
JESU, to whom I' have pray'd,
And still pray, that I worthy Thee may write;
Illustriously o're all th' Expansion shine,
And if I 'm weak to endure
A Light so pure, dart through my Verse a ray Divine.
II
JESU, the Wisdom of the Deity,In whom the Mistic Treasures are conceal'd,
Be'yond Reasons search, of the Eternal Mind,
And with whose Stripes the Afflicted World is heal'd;
Proof against Death, the Vanguishts Victory,
Under whose Standart to its God rejoyn'd,
Love for the Noblest Service is design'd,
Love that's a Rebel now,
JESU, so Great that Thou
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That I some Trophies of Thy Power may boast,
When Thou dost Conquering ride,
I'll Crowns provide, and sing Thy Triumphs through his Coast.
III
JESU, the Virgins, and the Martyr's Wreath,Who without Spot, or Wrinkle didst adorn
The fairest Soul, which in a Body all,
Of Charms was wondrously Conceiv'd, and Born;
Fought'st, and wast fought, resign'dst thy labouring Breath,
The Lost to Save, and from the Dungeon call
Hopes weary Pris'ners, and Death's Captive thrall,
To Thrones, at Thy Right Hand,
JESU, as Thou dost stand
At Thy Great Father's, in Heav'ns Judgment Hall;
Grant me the Grace, and Thou the Grace canst grant,
That when Thou shalt come next,
Tho now perplext, to attend, Thee then I nothing want.
IV
JESU, in whom the Godhead does repose,Infinites Comprehension, and the Bound
Of boundless Majesty, fathomless Deep,
With Thorns first pierc'd, and e're with Glory Crown'd,
Submitted to the Triumphs of Thy Foes,
A Man of Sorrows, and inur'd to weep;
Substantial God, and Man, who both dost keep
Unmixt, and Unconfus'd,
JESU, th' Untoucht, and Bruis'd,
Quickning the Dead, yet who ith' Grave didst sleep;
'Tis Thou hast broke our Bands, th' Uusurper hurld
Headlong into the Pit,
In whose sides sit the great Disturbers of the World.
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V
JESU, the Way, the Truth, whose Life does giveThe' exactest Method how we may direct
Our wandring Course to Thy Divine Aboad,
And whence, seduc'd to stray, is not to Live;
A Way Thy self, while here Unerring trode,
And now Exalted dost with Blessings load;
A Way, which rough at first,
JESU, appears and Curst,
But entred once proves worthy Thee and God;
Shew me Thy Way, nor take it in ill part,
Since I am blind and weak,
If I bespeak Thee' in that, whose Guide and End Thou art.
VI
JESU, Whose Cross the surest Anchor makes,Both strong and sure, entring within the Vail,
Where Passions waves, how fierce and uncontroul'd
So e're, rage not, (and yet they dare assail
The holiest Place, and Heav'n ith' Tempest shakes)
Thou seest how there I have fixt all my hold,
And am ith' midst of Storms and Floods grown bold:
Yet still there is a Shelf,
JESU, I mean my Self,
'Gainst which I am in danger to be roll'd.
I sink, O now thy saving Hand forth stretch!
Now e're my Head with th' Weeds,
Which this Sea breeds, is wrapt, and I'm below Thy reach!
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VII
JESU, how many Tears have I in vain,How many Sighs, and Prayers in vain pour'd out,
Tho by th' expence my Flame alone's encreast!
My Life from its first Stage, trac'd all about,
Unchang'd by change of Habit, 's nought but Pain,
Anguish and Torment, void of Peace and Rest;
Nay even my Soul Heav'n-born, has been opprest,
And humbled to the Grave:
JESU, make hast to save,
Nor tarry, tho of Men I 'have lov'd Thee least!
Now help, to Morrow may not be so well,
For Misery and Sin
Have me 'on the Wing, and where they 'll pitch me who can tell?
VIII
JESU, one half of me's already gone,So gone, that tho I have piec'd up the Rent,
Methinks I'm not the perfect thing I was,
Tho happy still in that I am content,
And who shall be more perfect when th' World's done,
And One made Three into' One again shall pass:
Unhappy Man, unhappy were my case,
Such doubts gave'st Thou not skill,
JESU, to Reconcile,
Thou who see'st Past and Future in one Glass!
Dear Lord, for whom too hard there nothing is,
Give all my Griefs such end,
As may intend Thy Honour first, and then my Bliss.
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IX
JESU, my Confidence, my Hope, my Fear,Able to help in time of Need, and Free,
O leave me not, when my last Hour shall come,
Not for my sake, but His, who Ransom'd me!
Merit crys, No. But th' Image which I bear
Pleads hard, and would for Ancient Love make room;
Tho I have been betray'd by Errors doom,
To a Fairy Wood, and Brook,
JESU, my Shepherd, look,
Find Thy lost Sheep, and bring the Stragler home!
Of Streams so troubled, may I drink no more,
Or having found my Way,
Any more stray, or wander as I did before!
X
JESU, My God, who far off seest the Proud,And hatest him, let Thy Blood some pity move,
An Heart all bruis'd, and contrite to regard,
That does at length bewail its sottish love;
And which, if once it can get free, has vowd,
'Twill that and all things else for Thee discard,
Twill more than ever eye th' ador'd Reward,
And purg'd with sacred Flame,
JESU, to Thy great Name,
No cost of Wit, or Verse being basely spar'd,
Its Life, and Hymns, and Service dedicate,
To Thee own its chang'd desires,
Kiss the soft Fires, and blame it self that 'twas so late.
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XI
JESU, to whom that Name, as the Prize is given,Of all Thou didst and sufferedst without measure,
The mighty Dowry, which Thou broughtst Thy Wife,
Deaths plague, Hells spoil, but whose exstatic Pleasure
Is for the Marriage Feast reserv'd, in Heav'n,
Whither I haste, to be than hope more rife,
And plentiful; (Lo!) the short Day of Life
Posts swiftly on, and flies;
JESU, in my Agonies,
Tho now with Death and Hell I am at strife,
Let me experience this Names healthful ease,
And after a long War,
With Truces rare, in 'it Conquer, and depart in Peace.
Comiato.
Thus, tho with different heat of Spirit, and Verse,What Petrarch sang to another,
JESU, Thy Virgin Mother,
The stops in part chang'd, I to Thee rehearse:
I chang'd the stops, (for under Thy Broad Seal,
Thou givest us no Commission,
Her to Petition) and from her to Thee appeal.
Altro Comiato.
And now be pleas'd to accept this humble Praise,Other, and better Fruit,
JESU, of all my Suit,
I dare not beg; eve'n Pardon here is Bays.
And for the Prayers, dropt more from my Heart than Pen,
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And words, which chime, say, as I to them say, AMEN.
I'l Terzo.
When I sent it to Sir Kingsmil Lucy.
At London, Song, Thy Russet, and Thy Freeze,Will seem, I fear, but course;
Jesu, they'll cry, or worse,
See! the dull fleghm of Solitude and Trees.
Thus will the Fops treat Thee, those Wits by Rote;
Yet one Thou 'lt know, e're long,
Who will own Thee, Song, and see Thy Beauties through Thy Coat.
| A paraphrase upon the canticles | |