The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet A Critical Edition by Amy M. Charles |
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76. | [76] Simplicitye |
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The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet | ||
[76] Simplicitye
A middle way some did attempte to find,
T'wixt Truth, and Falsity:
But They their Logicke lost, or left behind,
And their philosophye,
When they this taske assum'd: They did forgett,
That contradictoryes,
Will not of any Medium's admitt:
Wee reade in historyes,
Of many who attempted for to sayle,
By seas bound up in ice,
To th' Indyes; though each one did ever fayle,
In this bold enterprise:
But these our Navigatours did assay,
To sayle by lukewarme seas,
And unto Heaven to find a middle way,
Which God did never please.
For wee must travell through the Torride zone,
Since without ardent zeale,
Religion's but a thing of fashion,
A playster not to heale,
But rather hide a sore. That heavenly flame,
Kept by the Jewes entire,
Untill their Preistehood vendible became,
Expos'd to sale and hire,
A type was of this defecated wine,
This gold throughly refin'd,
Sent from above, not from an earthly mine,
To deifye Mans mind:
Religious zeale, that fiery charrett is,
Wherein Eliah mounted;
It lifts us to the skyes: To bee remisse,
Is for contempt accounted.
Hermaphrodites in faith, more odious bee,
Then those, which come from Nature:
Centaures, and Harpyes, doe with these aggree,
In twofold shape, and feature:
Partye per pale no lawfull beareing is,
In holy Armorye:
Religion hates a linsey woolsey dresse,
Allowes of no mixte dye:
No Paphlagonian Partridges shee loves,
But single hearted Doves.
T'wixt Truth, and Falsity:
But They their Logicke lost, or left behind,
And their philosophye,
When they this taske assum'd: They did forgett,
That contradictoryes,
Will not of any Medium's admitt:
Wee reade in historyes,
Of many who attempted for to sayle,
By seas bound up in ice,
To th' Indyes; though each one did ever fayle,
In this bold enterprise:
But these our Navigatours did assay,
To sayle by lukewarme seas,
And unto Heaven to find a middle way,
Which God did never please.
For wee must travell through the Torride zone,
Since without ardent zeale,
Religion's but a thing of fashion,
A playster not to heale,
But rather hide a sore. That heavenly flame,
Kept by the Jewes entire,
390
Expos'd to sale and hire,
A type was of this defecated wine,
This gold throughly refin'd,
Sent from above, not from an earthly mine,
To deifye Mans mind:
Religious zeale, that fiery charrett is,
Wherein Eliah mounted;
It lifts us to the skyes: To bee remisse,
Is for contempt accounted.
Hermaphrodites in faith, more odious bee,
Then those, which come from Nature:
Centaures, and Harpyes, doe with these aggree,
In twofold shape, and feature:
Partye per pale no lawfull beareing is,
In holy Armorye:
Religion hates a linsey woolsey dresse,
Allowes of no mixte dye:
No Paphlagonian Partridges shee loves,
But single hearted Doves.
Give mee that Person, who can humbly vaunt,
Hee was at Rome, a perfect Protestant.
Hee was at Rome, a perfect Protestant.
The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet | ||