Mel Heliconium or, Poeticall Honey, Gathered out of The Weeds of Parnassus ... By Alexander Rosse |
 | I. |
APOLLO.
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 | II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | CHAP. I. A Mel Heliconium |  |
APOLLO.
30
When God out of rude Chaos drew the light,
Which chas'd away the long confused night
O're all this All, it did display
Its golden beams, and made the day.
So when mankinde did in the Chaos lye,
Of ignorance and grosse idolatry,
There did arise a light, a Star
Brighter then Sun or Moon by far.
Who with his fulgent beams did soon disperse
The vapours of this little universe
Till then no morning did arise,
Nor sparkling Stars to paint the skies.
This is that Sun, this is the womans seed,
Who with her arrows wounded Pythons head;
Its he who kill'd the Gyants all,
Which were the causes of our fall.
He is that shepherd which in flowry Meads
Doth feed his wandring flock, and then he leads
Them to the brook that softly glides,
And with his shepherds-crook them guides.
Its he that did Jerusalem immure,
And made it strong, that it might stand secure
Against all forrein enemies,
Against assaults and batteries.
He's Wisdom, he that Prophet which displaid
What was before in darknesse bosome laid;
Whose Oracles did never fail,
Whose Miracles made all men quail.
He is the Sun that rides triumphantly
On the blew Chariot of the spangled sky,
Whose Chariot's drawn with horses four,
Justice and Truth, Mercie and Power.
He is the God of all sweet harmony,
Without whose word there is no melody;
He's sweeter to a pensive minde,
Then any musick we can finde.
He is the God of physick, he can ease
The soule of sin, thy body of disease.
He only helps the heavie heart,
He only cures the inward smart.
But sometime he his winged shafts lets fly
Amongst his foes, and wounds them mortally.
Who can unbend his reaching Bow?
Who can avoid his piercing blow?
Then seeing Christ is this resplendant Sun,
Which Gyant-like about the world doth run;
Who shew'd to Jews his rosie face,
And to all Gentiles offers grace.
Let us at last with reverence admire
This great Apollo, heavens greatest fire:
Come, let us Palms and Laurels bring,
And to him Io Pæans sing.
Which chas'd away the long confused night
O're all this All, it did display
Its golden beams, and made the day.
So when mankinde did in the Chaos lye,
Of ignorance and grosse idolatry,
There did arise a light, a Star
Brighter then Sun or Moon by far.
Who with his fulgent beams did soon disperse
The vapours of this little universe
Till then no morning did arise,
Nor sparkling Stars to paint the skies.
This is that Sun, this is the womans seed,
Who with her arrows wounded Pythons head;
Its he who kill'd the Gyants all,
Which were the causes of our fall.
31
Doth feed his wandring flock, and then he leads
Them to the brook that softly glides,
And with his shepherds-crook them guides.
Its he that did Jerusalem immure,
And made it strong, that it might stand secure
Against all forrein enemies,
Against assaults and batteries.
He's Wisdom, he that Prophet which displaid
What was before in darknesse bosome laid;
Whose Oracles did never fail,
Whose Miracles made all men quail.
He is the Sun that rides triumphantly
On the blew Chariot of the spangled sky,
Whose Chariot's drawn with horses four,
Justice and Truth, Mercie and Power.
He is the God of all sweet harmony,
Without whose word there is no melody;
He's sweeter to a pensive minde,
Then any musick we can finde.
He is the God of physick, he can ease
The soule of sin, thy body of disease.
He only helps the heavie heart,
He only cures the inward smart.
But sometime he his winged shafts lets fly
Amongst his foes, and wounds them mortally.
Who can unbend his reaching Bow?
Who can avoid his piercing blow?
Then seeing Christ is this resplendant Sun,
Which Gyant-like about the world doth run;
Who shew'd to Jews his rosie face,
And to all Gentiles offers grace.
Let us at last with reverence admire
This great Apollo, heavens greatest fire:
Come, let us Palms and Laurels bring,
And to him Io Pæans sing.
32
Apollo and a King parallel'd.
Like as Apollo's sparkling flame,Doth cherish with his beams the frame
Of this round Globe we see:
So Kings extend on us the light
Of their just Laws, and with their might
Keep us from injury.
They let their Arrows flye at those
Who dares their Rules and Laws oppose.
And vex the innocent
A King the plaguey Python slayes,
And Gyants that will Thunder raise
Within his firmament.
He is a good Physitian,
That bitter Pills and Cordialls can
Prescribe when he thinks cause
He makes a sweeter harmony,
Then Harp, or Lute, or Psaltery,
With his well tuned Laws.
He holds his bow with his left hand,
And at his right the graces stand,
As white as driven snow,
To let us see that by his raign
More good we have, and much more gain
Then damage by his bow.
The Muses in a grove of Bayes
About him dance, and sing sweet layes,
Each hath her instrument;
To shew, that under such a King
All things do flourish, Schollers sing
With comfort and content.
He hath the Ravens piercing eye,
He's a white Swan in purity,
And hath the Bullocks strength:
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His Name and Laws shall not decay,
But conquer all at length.
His head doth shine with golden locks,
He is a shepherd of great flocks,
Whom in the fragrant Meads,
He feeds and guides them with his crook,
And drives them to the silver Brook,
And to the shades them leads.
He wears a Tripos on his Crown,
A Triple Monster trampled down,
Before him prostrate lyes.
Now if this Sun shines any where,
He shines sure in our Northern sphære,
And moves in British skies.
| CHAP. I. A Mel Heliconium | |