 | Silex Scintillans |  |
17
The Search.
'Tis now cleare day: I see a Rose
Bud in the bright East, and disclose
The Pilgrim-Sunne; all night have I
Spent in a roving Extasie
To find my Saviour; I have been
As far as Bethlem, and have seen
His Inne, and Cradle; Being there
I met the Wise-men, askt them where
He might be found; or what starre can
Now point him out, grown up a Man?
To Egypt hence I fled, ran o're
All her parcht bosome to Nile's shore
Her yearly nurse; came back, enquir'd
Amongst the Doctors, and desir'd
To see the Temple, but was shown
A little dust, and for the Town
A heap of ashes, where some sed
A small bright sparkle was a bed,
Which would one day (beneath the pole,)
Awake, and then refine the whole.
Bud in the bright East, and disclose
The Pilgrim-Sunne; all night have I
Spent in a roving Extasie
To find my Saviour; I have been
As far as Bethlem, and have seen
His Inne, and Cradle; Being there
I met the Wise-men, askt them where
He might be found; or what starre can
Now point him out, grown up a Man?
To Egypt hence I fled, ran o're
All her parcht bosome to Nile's shore
Her yearly nurse; came back, enquir'd
Amongst the Doctors, and desir'd
To see the Temple, but was shown
A little dust, and for the Town
A heap of ashes, where some sed
A small bright sparkle was a bed,
Which would one day (beneath the pole,)
Awake, and then refine the whole.
Tyr'd here, I come to Sychar; thence
To Jacobs wel, bequeathed since
Unto his sonnes, (where often they
In those calme, golden Evenings lay
Watring their flocks, and having spent
Those white dayes, drove home to the Tent
Their well-fleec'd traine;) And here (O fate!)
I sit, where once my Saviour sate;
The angry Spring in bubbles swell'd
Which broke in sighes still, as they fill'd,
And whisper'd, Jesus had been there
But Jacobs children would not heare.
Loath hence to part, at last I rise
But with the fountain in my Eyes,
And here a fresh search is decreed
He must be found, where he did bleed;
I walke the garden, and there see
Idæa's of his Agonie,
And moving anguishments that set
His blest face in a bloudy sweat;
I climb'd the Hill, perus'd the Crosse
Hung with my gaine, and his great losse,
Never did tree beare fruit like this,
Balsam of Soules, the bodyes blisse;
But, O his grave! where I saw lent
(For he had none,) a Monument,
An undefil'd, and new-heaw'd one,
But there was not the Corner-stone;
Sure (then said I,) my Quest is vaine,
Hee'le not be found, where he was slaine,
So mild a Lamb can never be
'Midst so much bloud, and Crueltie;
I'le to the Wilderness, and can
Find beasts more mercifull then man,
He liv'd there safe, 'twas his retreat
From the fierce Jew, and Herods heat,
And forty dayes withstood the fell,
And high temptations of hell;
With Seraphins there talked he
His fathers flaming ministrie,
He heav'nd their walks, and with his eyes
Made those wild shades a Paradise,
Thus was the desert sanctified
To be the refuge of his bride;
I'le thither then; see, It is day,
The Sun's broke through to guide my way.
To Jacobs wel, bequeathed since
Unto his sonnes, (where often they
In those calme, golden Evenings lay
Watring their flocks, and having spent
Those white dayes, drove home to the Tent
Their well-fleec'd traine;) And here (O fate!)
I sit, where once my Saviour sate;
The angry Spring in bubbles swell'd
Which broke in sighes still, as they fill'd,
And whisper'd, Jesus had been there
But Jacobs children would not heare.
Loath hence to part, at last I rise
But with the fountain in my Eyes,
And here a fresh search is decreed
He must be found, where he did bleed;
18
Idæa's of his Agonie,
And moving anguishments that set
His blest face in a bloudy sweat;
I climb'd the Hill, perus'd the Crosse
Hung with my gaine, and his great losse,
Never did tree beare fruit like this,
Balsam of Soules, the bodyes blisse;
But, O his grave! where I saw lent
(For he had none,) a Monument,
An undefil'd, and new-heaw'd one,
But there was not the Corner-stone;
Sure (then said I,) my Quest is vaine,
Hee'le not be found, where he was slaine,
So mild a Lamb can never be
'Midst so much bloud, and Crueltie;
I'le to the Wilderness, and can
Find beasts more mercifull then man,
He liv'd there safe, 'twas his retreat
From the fierce Jew, and Herods heat,
And forty dayes withstood the fell,
And high temptations of hell;
With Seraphins there talked he
His fathers flaming ministrie,
He heav'nd their walks, and with his eyes
Made those wild shades a Paradise,
Thus was the desert sanctified
To be the refuge of his bride;
I'le thither then; see, It is day,
The Sun's broke through to guide my way.
But as I urg'd thus, and writ down
What pleasures should my Journey crown,
What silent paths, what shades, and Cells,
Faire, virgin-flowers, and hallow'd Wells
I should rove in, and rest my head
Where my deare Lord did often tread,
Sugring all dangers with successe,
Me thought I heard one singing thus;
What pleasures should my Journey crown,
What silent paths, what shades, and Cells,
Faire, virgin-flowers, and hallow'd Wells
I should rove in, and rest my head
Where my deare Lord did often tread,
Sugring all dangers with successe,
Me thought I heard one singing thus;
19
1
Leave, leave thy gadding thoughts;Who Pores
and spies
Still out of Doores
descries
Within them nought.
2
The skinne, and shell of thingsThough faire,
are not
Thy wish, nor Pray'r,
but got
By meere Despaire
of wings.
3
To rack old Elements,Or Dust;
and say
Sure here he must
needs stay
Is not the way,
nor Just.
Search well another world; who studies this,
Travels in Clouds, seekes Manna, where none is.
Travels in Clouds, seekes Manna, where none is.
That they should seeke the Lord, if happily they might feele after him, and find him, though he be not far off from every one of us, for in him we live, and move, and have our being.
Acts Cap. 17. ve. 27, 28.
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