Devovt Rhapsodies In Which, Is Treated, of the Excellencie of Divine Scriptvres ... By J: A: Rivers [i.e. John Abbot] |
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Sermo Primus.
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Sermo Primus.
To the Right Honourable, Philip Herbert, Earle of Pembroke and Montgomerie; And to the Lord Philip Herbert his Son.
The Argument.
As branches doe the Roote, Rivers obeyThe Ocean, smaller lines their tribute pay,
And homage to the Centre, as the Sreames
Shot from the Sun confesse themselves his Beames;
So must all Authors, all prescriptions fall
Vnto the scripture as Originall.
Wrangling Philosophers may boast,
The Scriptures only speake the Holy Ghost.
Their Schooles decay, what's grounded on our Texts
Shall flourish, maugre Gentilisme, and Sects.
Our sacred Volumes are the sealed springs,
Where choicest Nymphs, as they of heavenly things
Sing ditties, bath themselves: from the white Mount
Of Liban issues this perennall Fount,
Which prooves an Ocean where the silly sheepe
May wade securely, yet the same's so deepe,
The Elephant may swim, and if he range
Too far be swallowed in the Gulfe: so strange
And perilous are these streames. Was not a Wave,
Nest orius venturde on Nestorius grave?
And did not Arrius perish in these seas,
Whilst he durst saile midst the profundities.
And wanted a sure Pilot: What Saint Paul
Hath preach'd and writ to instruct and save us all.
Turnes to the ruine of illiterate men,
As they pervert the meaning of his pen.
Who prie too neerely into Majesty,
Strucke purblinde by the raies of glory die.
Where choicest Nymphs, as they of heavenly things
Sing ditties, bath themselves: from the white Mount
Of Liban issues this perennall Fount,
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May wade securely, yet the same's so deepe,
The Elephant may swim, and if he range
Too far be swallowed in the Gulfe: so strange
And perilous are these streames. Was not a Wave,
Nest orius venturde on Nestorius grave?
And did not Arrius perish in these seas,
Whilst he durst saile midst the profundities.
And wanted a sure Pilot: What Saint Paul
Hath preach'd and writ to instruct and save us all.
Turnes to the ruine of illiterate men,
As they pervert the meaning of his pen.
Who prie too neerely into Majesty,
Strucke purblinde by the raies of glory die.
'Tis true: Pharphar and Abana are streames
Of Syria; but if leprous Naaman dreames,
Theile clense his spots he erres, and must obey
The Prophet, and to Jordan take his way:
There glide the waters which he washing in,
Shall cure his leprousie, and clense his skin.
Poems must from this Chrystall Torrent spring,
Else theyle, as did those bitter waters bring
Diseases to the Drinker. Wanton bookes,
Hurt soules, as did the bodie Maras brookes,
Like dangerous Basiliskes a passage finde
To dart their poyson at the inveigled minde.
Of Syria; but if leprous Naaman dreames,
Theile clense his spots he erres, and must obey
The Prophet, and to Jordan take his way:
There glide the waters which he washing in,
Shall cure his leprousie, and clense his skin.
Poems must from this Chrystall Torrent spring,
Else theyle, as did those bitter waters bring
Diseases to the Drinker. Wanton bookes,
Hurt soules, as did the bodie Maras brookes,
Like dangerous Basiliskes a passage finde
To dart their poyson at the inveigled minde.
What? Are our Rils drunke up? Our fountains dry?
That wee must to such durty puddles fly,
First shall no Tapers grace the spangled heaven,
The rough Alps lye as the smooth Vallies even:
Ere who are conversant in sacred writ,
Shall faile of Themes to exercise their wit.
Are not the Fire, the Aire, the Earth, the Seas,
The Spheres, the Saints, th' Angels above all these,
A still supplying Subject? then to wade
In the Divine Idæas whence God made
Of nothing every thing, and with one word,
Could existence to all he made afford.
The Birth, the Infancy of this Vast Frame,
Increase, decrease, restoring of the same.
All Sciences of things above, below,
(More then Philosophy did ever know)
Are objects of Gods Booke, and easily yield
To all invention a most spacious field.
That wee must to such durty puddles fly,
First shall no Tapers grace the spangled heaven,
The rough Alps lye as the smooth Vallies even:
Ere who are conversant in sacred writ,
Shall faile of Themes to exercise their wit.
Are not the Fire, the Aire, the Earth, the Seas,
The Spheres, the Saints, th' Angels above all these,
A still supplying Subject? then to wade
In the Divine Idæas whence God made
Of nothing every thing, and with one word,
Could existence to all he made afford.
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Increase, decrease, restoring of the same.
All Sciences of things above, below,
(More then Philosophy did ever know)
Are objects of Gods Booke, and easily yield
To all invention a most spacious field.
Wee grant prophaner Authours have given Rules
Of living well, kept open natures scholes:
But this booke Gentilisme exceedes as far
As the bright Sun at Noone some lesser Star.
Why doe wee study? Wherefore are wee joyn'd
So fiercely in dispute? To adorne the minde
With Truthes, and as the flint and steele conspire
In issuing forth the Element of fire;
By joynt collision, so from much bickerings
In disputation Aletheia springs.
Volve and revolve your Sages Volumes, you
Shall not be certaine one opinion's true
Amongst one hundred. What their Histories?
Patcht up with idle fables and with lies.
What's noxious there our Scripture reprehends,
What's crooked rectifies, what's faulty mends;
What's good makes better, and you neede not feare
Any report or false position there.
Millions of Lines about this Circle are,
And though they mutually may seeme to square,
And contrary as East to West, the South
To North; yet all meete in the Centre Truth.
Of living well, kept open natures scholes:
But this booke Gentilisme exceedes as far
As the bright Sun at Noone some lesser Star.
Why doe wee study? Wherefore are wee joyn'd
So fiercely in dispute? To adorne the minde
With Truthes, and as the flint and steele conspire
In issuing forth the Element of fire;
By joynt collision, so from much bickerings
In disputation Aletheia springs.
Volve and revolve your Sages Volumes, you
Shall not be certaine one opinion's true
Amongst one hundred. What their Histories?
Patcht up with idle fables and with lies.
What's noxious there our Scripture reprehends,
What's crooked rectifies, what's faulty mends;
What's good makes better, and you neede not feare
Any report or false position there.
Millions of Lines about this Circle are,
And though they mutually may seeme to square,
And contrary as East to West, the South
To North; yet all meete in the Centre Truth.
What can be thought or writ by any quill,
Is in our Bible specified, and still
New matter drawes the curious Reader on,
And makes the Learned to reflect upon
The sense of deeper Mysteries, as he sees
Heere wondrous actions done: and out of these
Drawes morall applications, and can fly
To Allegorie, and Anagogie.
From the same words and deeds quadripartite,
Senses are fetcht, and every one is right.
Who but the Mother of us all Gods minde
Could in few words such stronge allusions finde?
And then what hee hath in Ænigma's put,
Make curious wits enucleat the Nut?
GOD is a copious Magazin; men are
The dispensatours of his precious ware,
And heeres such plenty that from every clause,
New mysteries the ingenious Reader drawes.
Is in our Bible specified, and still
New matter drawes the curious Reader on,
And makes the Learned to reflect upon
The sense of deeper Mysteries, as he sees
Heere wondrous actions done: and out of these
Drawes morall applications, and can fly
To Allegorie, and Anagogie.
From the same words and deeds quadripartite,
Senses are fetcht, and every one is right.
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Could in few words such stronge allusions finde?
And then what hee hath in Ænigma's put,
Make curious wits enucleat the Nut?
GOD is a copious Magazin; men are
The dispensatours of his precious ware,
And heeres such plenty that from every clause,
New mysteries the ingenious Reader drawes.
Goe jugling Mountebanks, cry up your toyes
Amongst the Rustiks, Idiots, Girles, and Boyes.
Yee winding Sophisters expose your trash,
Wrangling Philosophers together clash.
Frame Sophismes, Syllogismes, describe, devide,
Bring in essentials to define, decide
By Demonstrations Problemes. What's all this
To what we are made for, everlasting blisse?
Study foure yeeres the ten Predicaments,
Meane while forget the ten Commandements;
What profits Stoicisme? What Plato's wit
To your salvation? What the Stagyrit?
That Cynik Sage expresses, though heele hide
In's Tub, and currish manners far more pride
Then Plato in his Pompe. He who gave rules
To Courtiers, had a Cæsar in his Schooles
For a Disciple, found another way
How Princes Gnomically should write and say,
With some Atheistik Documents spoiles all,
Commending such who on their owne swords fall,
And with a violent Fate themselves deliver,
From paine or shame, for such shall live for ever
In paine, and shame. These wisemen are commended
Wher they are not: but their pains shal nere be ended
Where they are. Lets aske where are their followers now?
Who to defend their marcid Axioms vow?
Who now adore strict Zeno's Apathie?
Who for smooth Epicure will Champions be?
Where are Diogenes scholers that can scrub,
Sleepe, wake, eate, drinke, live, die; All in one Tub?
Contented with a scrip, a dish, a staffe,
More mad themselves at others madnesse laugh?
Surely such men have been; and made a shew
Of Learning, had Disciples, and did know
Something indeed, although not much; but what?
Is it Times fault? All almost are forgot.
No: time is blamelesse, for a Bastard sproute,
Though watred much seld fixes a deepe roote.
Amongst the Rustiks, Idiots, Girles, and Boyes.
Yee winding Sophisters expose your trash,
Wrangling Philosophers together clash.
Frame Sophismes, Syllogismes, describe, devide,
Bring in essentials to define, decide
By Demonstrations Problemes. What's all this
To what we are made for, everlasting blisse?
Study foure yeeres the ten Predicaments,
Meane while forget the ten Commandements;
What profits Stoicisme? What Plato's wit
To your salvation? What the Stagyrit?
That Cynik Sage expresses, though heele hide
In's Tub, and currish manners far more pride
Then Plato in his Pompe. He who gave rules
To Courtiers, had a Cæsar in his Schooles
For a Disciple, found another way
How Princes Gnomically should write and say,
With some Atheistik Documents spoiles all,
Commending such who on their owne swords fall,
And with a violent Fate themselves deliver,
From paine or shame, for such shall live for ever
In paine, and shame. These wisemen are commended
Wher they are not: but their pains shal nere be ended
Where they are. Lets aske where are their followers now?
Who to defend their marcid Axioms vow?
Who now adore strict Zeno's Apathie?
Who for smooth Epicure will Champions be?
Where are Diogenes scholers that can scrub,
Sleepe, wake, eate, drinke, live, die; All in one Tub?
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More mad themselves at others madnesse laugh?
Surely such men have been; and made a shew
Of Learning, had Disciples, and did know
Something indeed, although not much; but what?
Is it Times fault? All almost are forgot.
No: time is blamelesse, for a Bastard sproute,
Though watred much seld fixes a deepe roote.
Our Scripture is a more Celestiall seed,
Not Philosophik Darnell, or that weed
That growes in one day, in the following fades;
But planted by Gods hand, shootes forth, the blades
Increases so, that in the branches rest
Your towring Eagles, and make them their Nest.
(Our glorious Doctours o're whose head a Dove
Hovers, and dictates Lines of Wit and love)
Wit in expounding Mysteries of our Faith,
Love, urging to performe what Scripture saith.)
From bough to bough these soaring Eagles spring,
Chanting the Trophees of their slaughtred King
Who (by his passion worthy made) reveal'd
This Sacramentall Volume seven times seal'd.
For our Lambe butcher'd, streight the Vale was rent,
Which 'twixt the Temple, and the HOLIEST went.
The Tables, Aarons Rod, and Manna there
Reserv'd, by immolated JESUS were
To be brought forth, the Law more plainely taught,
Grace freelier give, deeds more prodigious wrought.
These Tables, and what appertains to them
Were preach'd, were taught, receiv'd in every Realme.
These are the silly graines of Mustard-seed,
That tasted once such operations breed.
Converted Nations, builded Churches, and
Planted soule-saving faith in every Land.
Not Philosophik Darnell, or that weed
That growes in one day, in the following fades;
But planted by Gods hand, shootes forth, the blades
Increases so, that in the branches rest
Your towring Eagles, and make them their Nest.
(Our glorious Doctours o're whose head a Dove
Hovers, and dictates Lines of Wit and love)
Wit in expounding Mysteries of our Faith,
Love, urging to performe what Scripture saith.)
From bough to bough these soaring Eagles spring,
Chanting the Trophees of their slaughtred King
Who (by his passion worthy made) reveal'd
This Sacramentall Volume seven times seal'd.
For our Lambe butcher'd, streight the Vale was rent,
Which 'twixt the Temple, and the HOLIEST went.
The Tables, Aarons Rod, and Manna there
Reserv'd, by immolated JESUS were
To be brought forth, the Law more plainely taught,
Grace freelier give, deeds more prodigious wrought.
These Tables, and what appertains to them
Were preach'd, were taught, receiv'd in every Realme.
These are the silly graines of Mustard-seed,
That tasted once such operations breed.
Converted Nations, builded Churches, and
Planted soule-saving faith in every Land.
How is it possible poore Fishermen
Should convert Nations, erect Temples, then
Leave their Disciples, who when they were dead,
This saving Doctrine every where should spread?
Be Trumpets and the Pipes of heavenly grace,
And in all Regions JESUS Banners place:
Be dayly Actors of stupendious things,
Maugre all Sects, and persecuting KINGS?
First do's the Synagogue recalcitrate
Against this Progresse with intestine hate.
But Truth prevailing, the Apostles shall
Interre her in a glorious Funerall,
And joyntly every Ceremonious Rite
Takes sweetrepose in darkenesse, but delight.
Then Pagan Kesars dreading th' overthrow
Of their false Gods, against the true GOD shew
Their indignation, and with fire and sword
Pursue, destroy Professours of his Word
Reveal'd, and writ: But as did Aarons Rod
Turn'd to a Serpent by the hand of God,
Devoure the Sorcerers Wands by Magick spells,
Also made Serpents, yet not tumid swells,
So this divinelie-vigorous Mustard-seed
Shall eate up, and hath swallowed every weed,
That through the world by Gentilisme was sowne,
(Their Doctrines, Phanes, and Idols overthrowne.)
No honours now to Moloch, Camos given,
None to Astarthe, and the Hoasts of Heaven.
Their maimed Dagon falls before the Arke,
Do's Hamon bleate now? Do's Anubis barke?
Paphus and Cyprus no more Venus follow,
No doubtfull answers uttred by Apollo.
These have, all Sects successively must perish,
Our heavenly seede eternally shall flourish.
Should convert Nations, erect Temples, then
Leave their Disciples, who when they were dead,
This saving Doctrine every where should spread?
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And in all Regions JESUS Banners place:
Be dayly Actors of stupendious things,
Maugre all Sects, and persecuting KINGS?
First do's the Synagogue recalcitrate
Against this Progresse with intestine hate.
But Truth prevailing, the Apostles shall
Interre her in a glorious Funerall,
And joyntly every Ceremonious Rite
Takes sweetrepose in darkenesse, but delight.
Then Pagan Kesars dreading th' overthrow
Of their false Gods, against the true GOD shew
Their indignation, and with fire and sword
Pursue, destroy Professours of his Word
Reveal'd, and writ: But as did Aarons Rod
Turn'd to a Serpent by the hand of God,
Devoure the Sorcerers Wands by Magick spells,
Also made Serpents, yet not tumid swells,
So this divinelie-vigorous Mustard-seed
Shall eate up, and hath swallowed every weed,
That through the world by Gentilisme was sowne,
(Their Doctrines, Phanes, and Idols overthrowne.)
No honours now to Moloch, Camos given,
None to Astarthe, and the Hoasts of Heaven.
Their maimed Dagon falls before the Arke,
Do's Hamon bleate now? Do's Anubis barke?
Paphus and Cyprus no more Venus follow,
No doubtfull answers uttred by Apollo.
These have, all Sects successively must perish,
Our heavenly seede eternally shall flourish.
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