Divine poems Containing The History of Ionah. Ester. Iob. Sampson. Sions Sonets. Elegies. Written and newly augmented, by Fra: Quarles |
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 | Divine poems |  |
Vpon a time, when heavēs sweet quire of Saints
(Whose everlasting Hallelujah chaunts
The highest praise of their celestiall King)
Before their Lord did the presentment bring
Of th'execution of his sacred Will,
Commited to their function to fulfill:
Satan came too (that Satan, which betraid
The soule of man, to Deaths eternall shade,
Satan came too) and in the midst he stands,
Like to a Vulture 'mongst a herd of Swans.
Said, then, th'Eternall; From what quarter now
Hath businesse brough thee? (Satan) whence com'st thou?
(Whose everlasting Hallelujah chaunts
The highest praise of their celestiall King)
Before their Lord did the presentment bring
Of th'execution of his sacred Will,
Commited to their function to fulfill:
Satan came too (that Satan, which betraid
The soule of man, to Deaths eternall shade,
Satan came too) and in the midst he stands,
Like to a Vulture 'mongst a herd of Swans.
Said, then, th'Eternall; From what quarter now
Hath businesse brough thee? (Satan) whence com'st thou?
The Lord of Heaven (said th'Infernall) since
Thou hast intitled me the Worlds great Prince,
I have beene practising mine old profession,
And come from compassing my large Possession,
Tempting thy sonnes, and (like a roaring Lion)
Seeking my prey, disturbe the peace of Sion;
I come from sowing Tares among thy Wheat;
To him, that shall dissemble Peters seat,
I have beene plotting, how to prompt the death
Of Christian Princes, and the bribed breath
Of cheapned Iustice, hath my fire inflam'd
With spirit of boldnesse, for a while, unsham'd.
J come from planting strife, and sterne debate,
'Twixt private man and man, 'twixt State and State,
Subverting Truth with all the power I can,
Accusing Man to God, and God to Man:
I daily sow fresh Schismes among thy Saints;
I buffet them, and laugh at their complaints;
The Earth is my Dominion, Hell's my Home,
I round the World, and so from thence I come.
Thou hast intitled me the Worlds great Prince,
I have beene practising mine old profession,
And come from compassing my large Possession,
Tempting thy sonnes, and (like a roaring Lion)
Seeking my prey, disturbe the peace of Sion;
I come from sowing Tares among thy Wheat;
To him, that shall dissemble Peters seat,
I have beene plotting, how to prompt the death
Of Christian Princes, and the bribed breath
180
With spirit of boldnesse, for a while, unsham'd.
J come from planting strife, and sterne debate,
'Twixt private man and man, 'twixt State and State,
Subverting Truth with all the power I can,
Accusing Man to God, and God to Man:
I daily sow fresh Schismes among thy Saints;
I buffet them, and laugh at their complaints;
The Earth is my Dominion, Hell's my Home,
I round the World, and so from thence I come.
Said then th'Eternall: True, thou hast not fail'd
Of what thou say'st; thy spirit hath prevail'd
To vexe my little Flocke; Thou hast beene bold
To make them stray, a little, from their Fold.
But say; Jn all thy hard Adventures, hath
Thine eye observed Iob my Servants faith?
Hath open force, or secret fraud beset
His Bulwarkes, so impregnable, as yet?
And hast thou (without envy) et beheld,
How that the World his second cannot yeeld?
Hast thou not found, that he's of upright will,
Iust, fearing God, eschewing what is ill?
Of what thou say'st; thy spirit hath prevail'd
To vexe my little Flocke; Thou hast beene bold
To make them stray, a little, from their Fold.
But say; Jn all thy hard Adventures, hath
Thine eye observed Iob my Servants faith?
Hath open force, or secret fraud beset
His Bulwarkes, so impregnable, as yet?
And hast thou (without envy) et beheld,
How that the World his second cannot yeeld?
Hast thou not found, that he's of upright will,
Iust, fearing God, eschewing what is ill?
True Lord, (reply'd the Fiend) thy Champion hath
A strong and fervent (yet a crafty) Faith,
A forced love needs no such great applause,
He loves but ill, that loves not for a cause.
Hast thou not heap'd his Garners with excesse?
Inricht his Pastures? Doth not he possesse
All that he hath, or can demand from Thee?
His Coffers fill'd, his Land stock'd plenteously?
Hath not thy love surrounded him about,
And hedg'd him in, to fence my practice out?
But small's the triall of a Faith, in this,
If thou support him, tis thy strength, not his.
Can then my power, that stands by thy permission,
Encounter, where Thou mak'st an Opposition?
Stretch forth thy Hand, and smite but what he hath,
And prove thou then the temper of his Faith;
Cease cock'ring his fond humour, veile thy Grace,
No doubt, but he'll blaspheme thee to thy face.
A strong and fervent (yet a crafty) Faith,
A forced love needs no such great applause,
He loves but ill, that loves not for a cause.
Hast thou not heap'd his Garners with excesse?
Inricht his Pastures? Doth not he possesse
All that he hath, or can demand from Thee?
His Coffers fill'd, his Land stock'd plenteously?
Hath not thy love surrounded him about,
And hedg'd him in, to fence my practice out?
But small's the triall of a Faith, in this,
If thou support him, tis thy strength, not his.
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Encounter, where Thou mak'st an Opposition?
Stretch forth thy Hand, and smite but what he hath,
And prove thou then the temper of his Faith;
Cease cock'ring his fond humour, veile thy Grace,
No doubt, but he'll blaspheme thee to thy face.
Loe, (said th'Eternall) to thy cursed hand,
I here commit his mighty Stocke, his Land,
His hopefull Jssue, and Wealth, though nere so much;
Himselfe, alone, thou shalt forbeare to touch.
I here commit his mighty Stocke, his Land,
His hopefull Jssue, and Wealth, though nere so much;
Himselfe, alone, thou shalt forbeare to touch.
| Divine poems | |