Fovre bookes of Du Bartas I. The Arke, II. Babylon, III. The Colonnyes, IIII. The Columues or Pyllars: In French and English, for the Instrvction and Pleasvre of Svch as Delight in Both Langvages. By William Lisle ... Together with a large Commentary by S. G. S |
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But miserable men, how fare they? thinke one treads
On point of highest hill, anoth'r on turret-leads;
Another in Cedars top bestirs him hand and foot
To gaine of all the boughes the farthest from the root.
But (ô alas) the Flood, ascending as doe they,
Surmounteth euery head, whereas it makes a stay.
Behold then some their liues to floting plankes commit,
And some in troughes, and some in coffers tottring sit:
One halfe asleepe perceiues the wat'r away to iogge
His bed and life at once, another (like a frog)
Casts out his hands and feet in equall bredth and time,
And striuing still with head aboue the flood to clime,
Sees nere him how before it newly drownd his brother,
His only child, his wife, his father, and his mother:
At length his weary limbes, no longer fit to scull,
Vnto the mercy yeeld of wat'r vnmercifull.
All, all now goes to wracke; yet Fates and deadly seare,
That earst with hundred kindes of weapons armed were
To spoile the fairest things, now only by the force
And foamy sway of Sea make all the world a corse;
Meane while the Patriarch, who should the world refill,
Plowes vp the fallow-waue aboue the proudest hill;
And th'Arche on dapled backe of th'ocean swoln with pride,
Without or mast or oare doth all in safety ride,
Or ankers ankerlesse, although from hav'n so farre:
For God her pylot was, her compasse and her starre.
A hundred fiftie daies in generall profound
Thus is the world ywrackt; and during all the flound
On point of highest hill, anoth'r on turret-leads;
Another in Cedars top bestirs him hand and foot
To gaine of all the boughes the farthest from the root.
But (ô alas) the Flood, ascending as doe they,
Surmounteth euery head, whereas it makes a stay.
Behold then some their liues to floting plankes commit,
And some in troughes, and some in coffers tottring sit:
One halfe asleepe perceiues the wat'r away to iogge
12
Casts out his hands and feet in equall bredth and time,
And striuing still with head aboue the flood to clime,
Sees nere him how before it newly drownd his brother,
His only child, his wife, his father, and his mother:
At length his weary limbes, no longer fit to scull,
Vnto the mercy yeeld of wat'r vnmercifull.
All, all now goes to wracke; yet Fates and deadly seare,
That earst with hundred kindes of weapons armed were
To spoile the fairest things, now only by the force
And foamy sway of Sea make all the world a corse;
Meane while the Patriarch, who should the world refill,
Plowes vp the fallow-waue aboue the proudest hill;
And th'Arche on dapled backe of th'ocean swoln with pride,
Without or mast or oare doth all in safety ride,
Or ankers ankerlesse, although from hav'n so farre:
For God her pylot was, her compasse and her starre.
A hundred fiftie daies in generall profound
Thus is the world ywrackt; and during all the flound
Good Noe abridgeth not the space of night or day,
Nor puts-off irksomnesse with vaine discourse or play;
But as in dog-day seas'n a raine shed west-by-south,
When Earth desires to drink & thirst hath parcht her mouth,
Reflowreth euery stalke, regreeneth all the field,
That sunne and southerne wind with drought before had peild:
So from his pleafull tongue falls cheering dew and aire,
R'alliuing all his house and beating downe despaire.
And thus he washt their face and wyp'd away their teares,
And raised vp their heart opprest with vgly feares.
Good cheere (my lads) quoth he, the Lord will soone rebinde
And up the murdring Seas, which his fierce angers winde
Hath whirled ore the world; and as his ang'r (I finde)
Hath armed Sea and Aire and Heau'n against our kinde;
So shall sure, er't be long, his mercy more renownd
Cleare heau'n, vnghust this ayre, & bring the Seas to bound.
Still follow one anoth'r his Anger and his Grace.
His anger lightning-like it stay's not long in place:
But th'other vnder wing it broodeth as an Hen,
The manifold descents of faithfull-hearted men.
The Lord, the gracious Lord, bestowes his wroth by waight,
And neuer waighes his grace; he whips vs & throwes straight
His rod into the fire; wer't on our body laid,
Or soule, or childe, or goods; he makes vs only afraid
With fingers tyck, and strikes not with his mightfull arme.
More often thunders he, then shoots a blasting harme.
And, wise-housholder-like, giues them that bend him knees
His angers wholsome wine, and enemies the lees.
Nor puts-off irksomnesse with vaine discourse or play;
But as in dog-day seas'n a raine shed west-by-south,
When Earth desires to drink & thirst hath parcht her mouth,
Reflowreth euery stalke, regreeneth all the field,
That sunne and southerne wind with drought before had peild:
So from his pleafull tongue falls cheering dew and aire,
R'alliuing all his house and beating downe despaire.
And thus he washt their face and wyp'd away their teares,
And raised vp their heart opprest with vgly feares.
Good cheere (my lads) quoth he, the Lord will soone rebinde
And up the murdring Seas, which his fierce angers winde
Hath whirled ore the world; and as his ang'r (I finde)
Hath armed Sea and Aire and Heau'n against our kinde;
So shall sure, er't be long, his mercy more renownd
Cleare heau'n, vnghust this ayre, & bring the Seas to bound.
Still follow one anoth'r his Anger and his Grace.
His anger lightning-like it stay's not long in place:
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The manifold descents of faithfull-hearted men.
The Lord, the gracious Lord, bestowes his wroth by waight,
And neuer waighes his grace; he whips vs & throwes straight
His rod into the fire; wer't on our body laid,
Or soule, or childe, or goods; he makes vs only afraid
With fingers tyck, and strikes not with his mightfull arme.
More often thunders he, then shoots a blasting harme.
And, wise-housholder-like, giues them that bend him knees
His angers wholsome wine, and enemies the lees.
This wise, that holy man, sire of the second age,
Discourseth on the praise of Gods both loue and rage.
Discourseth on the praise of Gods both loue and rage.
But Cham in whose foule heart blind roots were lately sone
Of godlesse vnbeleefe; that thought ere this t'vnthrone
The mighty God of heau'n, and beare the scept'r himselfe:
To hold in Africke sands, with helpe of hellish Elfe,
By name of Hammon Ioue, some temple stately built,
Where, as a God, he might haue Altars bloudy-guilt:
With anger-bended brow, and count'nance ill apaid
Thus in disdainfull tone his father checkd; and said,
Of godlesse vnbeleefe; that thought ere this t'vnthrone
The mighty God of heau'n, and beare the scept'r himselfe:
To hold in Africke sands, with helpe of hellish Elfe,
By name of Hammon Ioue, some temple stately built,
Where, as a God, he might haue Altars bloudy-guilt:
With anger-bended brow, and count'nance ill apaid
Thus in disdainfull tone his father checkd; and said,
Fie fath'r, I am asham'd to see on you lay hold
These slauish thoughts, that seize base minds and flie the bold.
This fained angry Iudge thus alway will you feare?
As peyzing words and thoughts, and counting euery heare?
A Censour faine you still that beares in hand the keyes
Of yours and euery heart; to search out when he please
Yours, and all hidden thoughts; yea all your sighs t'enroule,
And present faults and past together to controule?
That ayming at your necke with bloud-embrued knife
Is hangman-like at hand to cut the strings of life?
These slauish thoughts, that seize base minds and flie the bold.
This fained angry Iudge thus alway will you feare?
As peyzing words and thoughts, and counting euery heare?
A Censour faine you still that beares in hand the keyes
Of yours and euery heart; to search out when he please
Yours, and all hidden thoughts; yea all your sighs t'enroule,
And present faults and past together to controule?
That ayming at your necke with bloud-embrued knife
Is hangman-like at hand to cut the strings of life?
| Fovre bookes of Du Bartas | |