The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley

Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed: And Those which he Design'd for the Press, Now Published out of the Authors Original Copies ... The Text Edited by A. R. Waller

Cowley, Abraham (1618-1667)

Pindarique ODES,

Verses written on several occasions.

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153

Pindarique ODES,

Written in Imitation of the STILE & MANNER OF THE ODES OF PINDAR.

Hor. Ep. L. 1. 3. Pindarici fontis qui non expalluit haustus.

157

THE SECOND Olympique Ode OF PINDAR.

Written in praise of Theron Prince of Agrigentum (a famous City in Sicily built by his Ancestors) who in the seventy seventh Olympique won the Chariot-prize. He is commended from the Nobility of his Race (whose story is often toucht on) from his great Riches (an ordinary Common-Place in Pindar) from his Hospitality, Munificence, and other Virtues. The Ode (according to the constant custom of the Poet) consists more in Digressions, than in the main subject: And the Reader must not be chocqued to hear him speak so often of his own Muse; for that is a Liberty which this kind of Poetry can hardly live without.

1.

Queen of all Harmonious things,
Dancing Words, and Speaking Strings,
What God, what Hero wilt thou sing?
What happy Man to equal glories bring?
Begin, begin thy noble choice,
And let the Hills around reflect the Image of thy Voice.
Pisa does to Jove belong,
Jove and Pisa claim thy Song.
The fair First-fruits of War, th'Olympique Games,
Alcides offered up to Jove;
Alcides too thy strings may move;

158

But, oh, what Man to join with these can worthy prove!
Join Theron boldly to their sacred Names;
Theron the next honour claims;
Theron to no man gives place,
Is first in Pisa's, and in Virtue's Race;
Theron there, and he alone,
Ev'n his own swift Forefathers has outgone.

2.

They through rough ways, o're many stops they past,
Till on the fatal bank at last
They Agrigentum built, the beauteous Eye
Of fair-fac'ed Sicilie,
Which does it self i'th' River by
With Pride and Joy espy.
Then chearful Notes their Painted Years did sing,
And Wealth was one, and Honour th' other Wing.
Their genuine Virtues did more sweet and clear,
In Fortunes graceful dress appear.
To which great Son of Rhea, say
The Firm Word which forbids things to Decay.
If in Olympus Top, where Thou
Sit'st to behold thy Sacred Show,
If in Alpheus silver flight,
If in my Verse thou dost delight,
My Verse, O Rhea's Son, which is
Lofty as that, and smooth as This.

3.

For the past sufferings of this noble Race
(Since things once past, and fled out of thine hand,
Hearken no more to thy command)
Let present joys fill up their place,
And with Oblivions silent stroke deface
Of foregone Ills the very trace.
In no illustrious line
Do these happy changes shine
More brightly Theron than in thine.
So in the Chrystal Palaces
Of the blew-ey'd Nereides
Ino her endless youth does please,
And thanks her fall into the Seas.

159

Beauteous Semele does no less
Her cruel Midwife Thunder bless,
Whilst sporting with the Gods on high,
She' enjoys secure their Company,
Plays with Lightnings as they fly,
Nor trembles at the bright Embraces of the Deity.

4.

But Death did them from future dangers free,
What God (alas) will Caution be
For Living Mans securitie,
Or will ensure our Vessel in this faithless Sea?
Never did the Sun as yet
So healthful a fair day beget,
That Travelling Mortals might rely on it.
But Fortunes favour and her Spight
Rowl with alternate Waves like Day and Night.
Vicissitudes which thy great race pursue,
Ere since the fatal Son his Father slew,
And did old Oracles fulfill
Of Gods that cannot Lye, for they foretel but their own Will

5.

Erynnis saw't, and made in her own seed
The innocent Parricide to bleed,
She slew his wrathful Sons with mutual blows;
But better things did then succeed,
And brave Thersander in amends for what was past arose.
Brave Thersander was by none
In war, or warlike sports out-done.
Thou Theron his great virtues dost revive,
He in my Verse and Thee again does live.
Loud Olympus happy Thee,
Isthmus and Nemea does twice happy see.
For the well-natur'ed honour there
Which with thy Brother thou didst share,
Was to thee double grown
By not being all thine Own.
And those kind pious glories do deface
The old Fraternal quarrel of thy Race.

160

6.

Greatness of Mind and Fortune too
The' Olympique Trophees shew.
Both their several parts must do
In the noble Chase of Fame,
This without that is Blind, that without this is Lame.
Nor is fair Virtues Picture seen aright
But in Fortunes golden light.
Riches alone are of uncertain date,
And on short-Man long cannot wait.
The Vertuous make of them the best,
And put them out to Fame for Interest.
With a frail good they wisely buy
The solid Purchase of Eternity.
They whilst Lifes air they breath, consider well and know
Th'account they must hereafter give below.
Whereas th'unjust and Covetous above,
In deep unlovely vaults,
By the just decrees of Jove
Unrelenting torments prove,
The heavy Necessary effects of Voluntary Faults.

7.

Whilst in the Lands of unexhausted Light
O're which the God-like Suns unwearied sight,
Ne're winks in Clouds, or Sleeps in Night,
An endless Spring of Age the Good enjoy,
Where neither Want does pinch, nor Plenty cloy.
There neither Earth nor Sea they plow,
Nor ought to Labour ow
For Food, that whil'st it nour'ishes does decay,
And in the Lamp of Life consumes away.
Thrice had these men through mortal bodies past,
Did thrice the tryal undergo,
Till all their little Dross was purg'd at last,
The Furnace had no more to do.
Then in rich Saturns peaceful state
Were they for sacred Treasures plac'ed,
The Muse-discovered World of Islands Fortunate.

161

8.

Soft-footed Winds with tuneful voyces there
Dance through the perfum'd Air.
There Silver Rivers through enamell'd Meadows glide,
And golden Trees enrich their side.
Th'illustrious Leaves no dropping Autumn fear,
And Jewels for their fruit they bear.
Which by the Blest are gathered
For Bracelets to the Arm, and Garlands to the Head.
Here all the Hero's, and their Poets live,
Wise Rhadamanthus did the Sentence give,
Who for his justice was thought fit
With Soveraign Saturn on the Bench to sit.
Peleus here, and Cadmus reign,
Here great Achilles wrathful now no more,
Since his blest Mother (who before
Had try'd it on his Body' in vain)
Dipt now his Soul in Stygian Lake,
Which did from thence a divine Hardness take,
That does from Passion and from Vice Invulnerable make.

9.

To Theron, Muse, bring back thy wandring Song,
Whom those bright Troops expect impatiently;
And may they do so long.
How, noble Archer, do thy wanton Arrows fly
At all the Game that does but cross thine Eye?
Shoot, and spare not, for I see
Thy sounding Quiver can ne're emptied be;
Let Art use Method and good Husbandry,
Art lives on Natures Alms, is weak and poor;
Nature herself has unexhausted store,
Wallows in Wealth, and runs a turning Maze,
That no vulgar Eye can trace.
Art instead of mounting high,
About her humble Food does hov'ering fly,
Like the ignoble Crow, rapine and noise does love,
Whilst Nature, like the sacred Bird of Jove,
Now bears loud Thunder, and anon with silent joy
The beauteous Phrygian Boy,

162

Defeats the Strong, o'retakes the Flying prey;
And sometimes basks in th'open Flames of Day,
And sometimes too he shrowds,
His soaring wings among the Clouds.

10.

Leave, wanton Muse, thy roving flight,
To thy loud String the well-fletcht Arrow put,
Let [A]grigentum be the But,
And Theron be the White.
And lest the Name of Verse should give
Malitious men pretext to misbelieve,
By the Castalian waters swear,
(A sacred Oath no Poets dare
To take in vain,
No more then Gods do that of Styx prophane)
Swear in no City e're before,
A better man, or greater-soul'd was born,
Swear that Theron sure has sworn
No man near him should be poor.
Swear that none e're had such a graceful art,
Fortunes free gifts as freely to impart
With an Unenvious band, and an unbounded Heart.

11.

But in this thankless world the Givers
Are envi'ed ev'en by the Receivers.
'Tis now the cheap and frugal fashion,
Rather to Hide then Pay the Obligation.
Nay 'tis much worse than so,
It now an Artifice does grow,
Wrongs and outrages to do,
Lest men should think we ow.
Such Monsters, Theron, has thy Vertue found,
But all the malice they profess,
Thy secure Honour cannot wound:
For thy vast Bounties are so numberless,
That them or to Conceal, or else to Tell,
Is equally Impossible.

170

THE FIRST Nemeæan Ode OF PINDAR.

Chromius, the Son of Agesidamus, a young Gentleman of Sicilie, is celebrated for having won the prize of the Chariot-Race in the Nemeæan Games (a Solemnity instituted first to celebrate the Funeral of Opheltes, as is at large described by Statius; and afterwards continued every third year, with an extraordinary conflux of all Greece, and with incredible honor to the Conquerors in all the exercises there practised) upon which occasion, the Poet begins with the commendation of his Country, which I take to have been Ortygia (an Island belonging to Sicilie, and a part of Syracuse, being joyned to it by a Bridg) though the title of the Ode call him Ætnæan Chromius, perhaps because he was made Governour of that Town by Hieron. From thence he falls into the praise of Chromius his person, which he draws from his great end[ow]ments of Mind and Body, and most especially from his Hospitality, and the worthy use of his riches. He likens his beginning to that of Hercules, and according to his usual manner of being transported with any good Hint that meets him in his way, passing into a Digression of Hercules, and his slaying the two Serpents in his Cradle, concludes the Ode with that History.

1.

Beauteous Ortygia, the first breathing place
Of great Alpheus close and amorous race,
Fair Delos Sister, the Child-Bed
Of bright Latona, where she bred
The Original New-Moon,
Who saw'st her tender Forehead e're the Horns were grown.

171

Who like a gentle Scion, newly started out,
From Syracusa's side dost sprout.
Thee first my Song does greet
With numbers smooth and fleet,
As thine own Horses airy feet,
When they young Chromius Chariot drew,
And o're the Nemeæan race triumphant flew.
Jove will approve my Song and Me,
Jove is concern'd in Nemea, and in Thee.

2.

With Jove, my Song; this happy man,
Young Chromius too with Jove began;
From hence came his success,
Nor ought he therefore like it less,
Since the best Fame is that of Happiness.
For whom should we esteem above
The Men whom Gods do love.
'Tis them alone the Muse too does approve.
Lo how it makes this victory shine
O're all the fruitful Isle of Proserpine!
The Torches which the Mother brought
When the ravisht Maid she sought,
Appear'd not half so bright,
But cast a weaker light,
Through earth, and ayr, and Seas, and up to th'heavenly Vault.

3.

To thee, O Proserpine, this Isle I give,
Said Jove, and as he said,
Smil'd, and bent his gracious Head.
And thou, O Isle, said he, for ever thrive,
And keep the value of our Gift alive.
As Heaven with Stars, so let
The Countrey thick with Towns be set,
And numberless as Stars
Let all the Towns be then
Replenish'd thick with Men,
Wise in Peace, and Bold in Wars.

172

Of thousand glorious Towns the Nation,
Of thousand glorious Men each Town a Constellation.
Nor let their warlike Lawrel scorn,
With the Olympique Olive to be worn,
Whose gentler Honors do so well the Brows of Peace adorn.

4.

Go to great Syracuse, my Muse, and wait
At Chromius Hospitable Gate.
'Twill open wide to let thee in,
When thy Lyres voyce shall but begin.
Joy, Plenty, and free Welcome dwells within.
The Tyrian Beds thou shalt find ready drest,
The Ivory Table crowded with a Feast.
The Table which is free for every Guest,
No doubt will thee admit,
And feast more upon Thee, then Thou on it.
Chromius and Thou art met aright,
For as by Nature thou dost Write,
So he by Nature Loves, and does by Nature Fight.

5.

Nature herself, whilst in the womb he was,
Sow'd Strength and Beauty through the forming Mass,
They mov'ed the vital Lump in every part,
And carv'ed the Members out with wondrous art.
She fill'd his Mind with Courage, and with Wit,
And a vast Bounty, apt and fit
For the great Dowre which Fortune made to it.
'Tis Madness sure Treasures to hoord,
And make them useless, as in Mines, remain,
To lose th' Occasion Fortune does afford
Fame, and publick Love to gain.
Even for self-concerning ends,
'Tis wiser much to hoord up Friends.
Though Happy men the present goods possess,
Th' Unhappy have their share in future Hopes no less.

173

6.

How early has young Chromius begun
The Race of Virtue, and how swiftly run,
And born the noble Prize away,
Whilst other youths yet at the Barriere stay?
None but Alcides e're set earlier forth then He;
The God, his Fathers, Blood nought could restrain,
'Twas ripe at first, and did disdain
The slow advance of dull Humanitie,
The big-limm'ed Babe in his huge Cradle lay,
Too weighty to be rockt by Nurses hands,
Wrapt in purple swadling-bands.
When, Lo, by jealous Juno's fierce commands,
Two dreadful Serpents come
Rowling and hissing loud into the roome.
To the bold Babe they trace their bidden way,
Forth from their flaming eyes dread Lightnings went,
Their gaping Mouths did forked Tongues like Thunderbolts present.

7.

Some of th' amazed Women dropt down dead
With fear, some wildly fled
About the room, some into corners crept,
Where silently they shook and wept.
All naked from her bed the passionate Mother lept
To save or perish with her Child,
She trembled, and she cry'ed, the mighty Infant smil'd.
The mighty Infant seem'd well pleas'd
At his gay gilded foes,
And as their spotted necks up to the Cradle rose,
With his young warlike hands on both he seis'd;
In vain they rag'd, in vain they hist,
In vain their armed Tails they twist,
And angry Circles cast about,
Black Blood, and fiery Breath, and poys'nous Soul he squeezes out.

174

8.

With their drawn Swords
In ran Amphitryo, and the Theban Lords,
With doubting Wonder, and with troubled joy
They saw the conquering Boy
Laugh, and point downwards to his prey,
Where in deaths pangs, and their own gore they folding lay.
When wise Tiresias this beginning knew,
He told with ease the things t'ensue,
From what Monsters he should free
The Earth, the Ayr, and Sea,
What mighty Tyrants he should slay,
Greater Monsters far then They.
How much at Phlægras field the distrest Gods should ow
To their great Off-spring here below,
And how his Club should there outdo,
Apollos silver Bow, and his own Fathers Thunder too.

9.

And that the grateful Gods at last,
The race of his laborious Virtue past,
Heaven, which he sav'ed, should to him give,
Where marry'd to eternal Youth he should for ever live;
Drink Nectar with the Gods, and all his senses please
In their harmonious golden Palaces.
Walk with ineffable Delight
Through the thick Groves of never-withering Light,
And as he walks affright
The Lyon and the Bear,
Bull, Centaur, Scorpion, all the radiant Monsters there.

178

The Praise of Pindar.

In Imitation of Horace his second Ode, B. 4.

Pindarum quisquis studet æmulari, &c.

1.

Pindar is imitable by none;
The Phœnix Pindar is a vast Species alone.
Who e're but Dædalus with waxen wings could fly
And neither sink too low, nor soar too high?
What could he who follow'd claim,
But of vain boldness the unhappy fame,
And by his fall a Sea to name?
Pindars unnavigable Song
Like a swoln Flood from some steep Mountain pours along,
The Ocean meets with such a Voice
From his enlarged Mouth, as drowns the Oceans noise.

2.

So Pindar does new Words and Figures roul
Down his impetuous Dithyrambique Tide,
Which in no Channel deigns t'abide,
Which neither Banks nor Dikes controul.

179

Whether th' Immortal Gods he sings
In a no less Immortal strain,
Or the great Acts of God-descended Kings,
Who in his Numbers still survive and Reign.
Each rich embroidered Line,
Which their triumphant Brows around,
By his sacred Hand is bound,
Does all their starry Diadems outshine.

3.

Whether at Pisa's race he please
To carve in polisht Verse the Conque'rors Images,
Whether the Swift, the Skilful, or the Strong,
Be crowned in his Nimble, Artful, Vigorous Song:
Whether some brave young man's untimely fate
In words worth Dying for he celebrate,
Such mournful, and such pleasing words,
As joy to'his Mothers and his Mistress grief affords:
He bids him Live and Grow in fame,
Among the Stars he sticks his Name:
The Grave can but the Dross of him devour,
So small is Deaths, so great the Poets power.

4.

Lo, how th'obsequious Wind, and swelling Ayr
The Theban Swan does upwards bear
Into the walks of Clouds, where he does play,
And with extended Wings opens his liquid way.
Whilst, alas, my tim'erous Muse
Unambitious tracks pursues;
Does with weak unballast wings,
About the mossy Brooks and Springs;
About the Trees new-blossom'ed Heads,
About the Gardens painted Beds,
About the Fields and flowry Meads,
And all inferior beauteous things
Like the laborious Bee,
For little drops of Honey flee,
And there with Humble Sweets contents her Industrie.

182

The Resurrection.

1.

Not Winds to Voyagers at Sea,
Nor Showers to Earth more necessary be,
(Heav'ens vital seed cast on the womb of Earth
To give the fruitful Year a Birth)
Then Verse to Virtue, which can do
The Midwifes Office, and the Nurses too;
It feeds it strongly, and it cloathes it gay,
And when it dyes, with comely pride
Embalms it, and erects a Pyramide
That never will decay
Till Heaven it self shall melt away,
And nought behind it stay.

2.

Begin the Song, and strike the Living Lyre;
Lo how the Years to come, a numerous and well-fitted Quire,
All hand in hand do decently advance,
And to my Song with smooth and equal measures dance.
Whilst the dance lasts, how long so e're it be,
My Musicks voyce shall bear it companie.
Till all gentle Notes be drown'd
In the last Trumpets dreadful sound.
That to the Spheres themselves shall silence bring,
Untune the Universal String.
Then all the wide extended Sky,
And all th'harmonious Worlds on high,
And Virgils sacred work shall dy.
And he himself shall see in one Fire shine
Rich Natures ancient Troy, though built by Hands Divine.

3.

Whom Thunders dismal noise,
And all that Prophets and Apostles louder spake,
And all the Creatures plain conspiring voyce,
Could not whilst they liv'ed, awake,
This mightier sound shall make
When Dead t'arise,
And open Tombs, and open Eyes

183

To the long Sluggards of five thousand years.
This mightier Sound shall make its Hearers Ears.
Then shall the scatter'ed Atomes crowding come
Back to their Ancient Home,
Some from Birds, from Fishes some,
Some from Earth, and some from Seas,
Some from Beasts, and some from Trees.
Some descend from Clouds on high,
Some from Metals upwards fly,
And where th'attending Soul naked, and shivering stands,
Meet, salute, and joyn their hands.
As disperst Souldiers at the Trumpets call,
Hast to their Colours all.
Unhappy most, like Tortur'ed Men,
Their Joynts new set, to be new rackt agen.
To Mountains they for shelter pray,
The Mountains shake, and run about no less confus'd then They.

4.

Stop, stop, my Muse, allay thy vig'orous heat,
Kindled at a Hint so Great.
Hold thy Pindarique Pegasus closely in,
Which does to rage begin,
And this steep Hill would gallop up with violent course,
'Tis an unruly, and a hard-Mouth'd Horse,
Fierce, and unbroken yet,
Impatient of the Spur or Bit.
Now praunces stately, and anon flies o're the place,
Disdains the servile Law of any settled pace,
Conscious and proud of his own natural force.
'Twill no unskilful Touch endure,
But flings Writer and Reader too that sits not sure.

184

The Muse.

1.

Go, the rich Chariot instantly prepare;
The Queen, my Muse, will take the air;
Unruly Phansie with strong Judgment trace,
Put in nimble-footed Wit,
Smooth-pac'ed Eloquence joyn with it,
Sound Memory with young Invention place,
Harness all the winged race.
Let the Postillion Nature mount, and let
The Coachman Art be set.

185

And let the airy Footmen running all beside,
Make a long row of goodly pride.
Figures, Conceits, Raptures, and Sentences
In a well-worded dress.
And innocent Loves, and pleasant Truths, and useful Lies,
In all their gaudy Liveries.
Mount, glorious Queen, thy travelling Throne,
And bid it to put on;
For long, though cheerful, is the way,
And Life, alas, allows but one ill winters Day.

2.

Where never Foot of Man, or Hoof of Beast,
The passage prest,
Where never Fish did fly,
And with short silver wings cut the low liquid Sky.
Where Bird with painted Oars did nere
Row through the trackless Ocean of the Air.
Where never yet did pry
The busie Mornings curious Ey:
The Wheels of thy bold Coach pass quick and free;
And all's an open Road to Thee.
Whatever God did Say,
Is all thy plain and smooth, uninterrupted way.
Nay ev'n beyond his works thy Voyages are known,
Thou 'hast thousand worlds too of thine own.
Thou speakst, great Queen, in the same stile as He,
And a New world leaps forth when Thou say'st, Let it Be.

3.

Thou fadom'est the deep Gulf of Ages past,
And canst pluck up with ease
The years which Thou dost please,
Like shipwrackt Treasures by rude Tempests cast
Long since into the Sea,
Brought up again to light and publique Use by Thee.
Nor dost thou only Dive so low,
But Fly
With an unwearied Wing the other way on high,
Where Fates among the Stars do grow;

186

There into the close Nests of Time do'st peep,
And there with piercing Eye,
Through the firm shell, and the thick White do'st spie,
Years to come a forming lie,
Close in their sacred Secondine asleep,
Till hatcht by the Suns vital heat
Which o're them yet does brooding set
They Life and Motion get,
And ripe at last with vigorous might
Break through the Shell, and take their everlasting Flight.

4.

And sure we may
The same too of the Present say,
If Past, and Future Times do thee obey.
Thou stopst this Current, and dost make
This running River settle like a Lake,
Thy certain hand holds fast this slippery Snake.
The Fruit which does so quickly wast,
Men scarce can see it, much less tast,
Thou Comfitest in Sweets to make it last.
This shining piece of Ice
Which melts so soon away
With the Suns ray,
Thy Verse does solidate and Chrystallize,
Till it a lasting Mirror be.
Nay thy Immortal Rhyme
Makes this one short Point of Time,
To fill up half the Orb of Round Eternity.

188

To Mr. Hobs.

1.

Vast Bodies of Philosophie
I oft have seen, and read,
But all are Bodies Dead,
Or Bodies by Art fashioned;
I never yet the Living Soul could see,
But in thy Books and Thee.
'Tis onely God can know
Whether the fair Idea thou dost show
Agree intirely with his own or no.
This I dare boldly tell,
'Tis so like Truth 'twill serve our turn as well.
Just, as in Nature thy Proportions be,
As full of Concord their Varietie,
As firm the parts upon their Center rest,
And all so Solid are that they at least
As much as Nature, Emptiness detest.

2.

Long did the mighty Stagirite retain
The universal Intellectual reign,
Saw his own Countreys short-liv'ed Leopard slain;
The stronger Roman-Eagle did out-fly,
Oftner renewed his Age, and saw that Dy.
Mecha it self, in spite of Mahumet possest,
And chas'ed by a wild Deluge from the East,
His Monarchy new planted in the West.
But as in time each great imperial race
Degenerates, and gives some new one place:
So did this noble Empire wast,
Sunk by degrees from glories past,
And in the School-mens hands it perisht quite at last.
Then nought but Words it grew,
And those all Barb'arous too.
It perisht, and it vanisht there,
The Life and Soul breath'd out, became but empty Air.

189

3.

The Fields which answer'd well the Ancients Plow,
Spent and out-worn return no Harvest now,
In barren Age wild and unglorious lie,
And boast of past Fertilitie,
The poor relief of Present Povertie.
Food and Fruit we now must want
Unless new Lands we plant.
We break up Tombs with Sacrilegious hands;
Old Rubbish we remove;
To walk in Ruines, like vain Ghosts, we love,
And with fond Divining Wands
We search among the Dead
For Treasures Buried,
Whilst still the Liberal Earth does hold
So many Virgin Mines of undiscover'ed Gold.

4.

The Baltique, Euxin, and the Caspian,
And slender-limb'ed Mediterrean,
Seem narrow Creeks to Thee, and only fit
For the poor wretched Fisher-boats of Wit.
Thy nobler Vessel the vast Ocean tries,
And nothing sees but Seas and Skies,
Till unknown Regions it descries,
Thou great Columbus of the Golden Lands of new Philosophies.
Thy task was harder much then his,
For thy learn'd America is
Not onely found out first by Thee,
And rudely left to Future Industrie,
But thy Eloquence and thy Wit,
Has planted, peopled, built, and civiliz'd it.

5.

I little thought before,
(Nor being my own self so poor
Could comprehend so vast a store)
That all the Wardrobe of rich Eloquence,
Could have afforded half enuff,
Of bright, of new, and lasting stuff,
To cloath the mighty Limbs of thy Gigantique Sence.

190

Thy solid Reason like the shield from heaven
To the Trojan Heroe given,
Too strong to take a mark from any mortal dart,
Yet shines with Gold and Gems in every part,
And Wonders on it grave'd by the learn'd hand of Art,
A shield that gives delight
Even to the enemies sight,
Then when they're sure to lose the Combat by't.

6.

Nor can the Snow which now cold Age does shed
Upon thy reverend Head,
Quench or allay the noble Fires within,
But all which thou hast bin,
And all that Youth can be thou'rt yet,
So fully still dost Thou
Enjoy the Manhood, and the Bloom of Wit,
And all the Natural Heat, but not the Feaver too.
So Contraries on Ætna's top conspire,
Here hoary Frosts, and by them breaks out Fire.
A secure peace the faithful Neighbors keep,
Th'emboldned Snow next to the Flame does sleep.
And if we weigh, like Thee,
Nature, and Causes, we shall see
That thus it needs must be,
To things Immortal Time can do no wrong,
And that which never is to Dye, for ever must be Young.

192

Destinie.

Hoc quoq; Fatale est sic ipsum expendere Fatum.
Manil.

1.

Strange and unnatural! lets stay and see
This Pageant of a Prodigie.
Lo, of themselves th'enlivened Chesmen move,
Lo, the unbred, ill-organ'd Pieces prove,
As full of Art, and Industrie,
Of Courage and of Policie,
As we our selves who think ther's nothing Wise but We.
Here a proud Pawn I'admire
That still advancing higher
At top of all became
Another Thing and Name.
Here I'm amaz'ed at th'actions of a Knight,
That does bold wonders in the fight.
Here I the losing party blame
For those false Moves that break the Game,
That to their Grave the Bag, the conquered Pieces bring,
And above all, th'ill Conduct of the Mated King.

2.

What e're these seem, what e're Philosophie
And Sense or Reason tell (said I)
These Things have Life, Election, Libertie;
'Tis their own Wisdom molds their State,
Their Faults and Virtues make their Fate.
They do, they do (said I) but strait

193

Lo from my'enlightned Eyes the Mists and shadows fell
That hinder Spirits from being Visible.
And, lo, I saw two Angels plaid the Mate.
With Man, alas, no otherwise it proves,
An unseen Hand makes all their Moves.
And some are Great, and some are Small,
Some climb to good, some from good Fortune fall,
Some Wisemen, and some Fools we call,
Figures, alas, of Speech, for Desti'ny plays us all.

3.

Me from the womb the Midwife Muse did take:
She cut my Navel, washt me, and mine Head
With her own Hands she Fashioned;
She did a Covenant with me make,
And circumcis'ed my tender Soul, and thus she spake,
Thou of my Church shalt be,
Hate and renounce (said she)
Wealth, Honor, Pleasures, all the World for Me.
Thou neither great at Court, nor in the War,
Nor at th'Exchange shalt be, nor at the wrangling Bar.
Content thy self with the small Barren Praise,
That neglected Verse does raise.
She spake, and all my years to come
Took their unlucky Doom.
Their several ways of Life let others chuse,
Their several pleasures let them use,
But I was born for Love, and for a Muse.

4.

With Fate what boots it to contend?
Such I began, such am, and so must end.
The Star that did my Being frame,
Was but a Lambent Flame,
And some small Light it did dispence,
But neither Heat nor Influence.
No Matter, Cowley, let proud Fortune see,
That thou canst her despise no less then she does Thee.

194

Let all her gifts the portion be
Of Folly, Lust, and Flattery,
Fraud, Extortion, Calumnie,
Murder, Infidelitie,
Rebellion and Hypocrisie.
Do Thou nor grieve nor blush to be,
As all th'inspired tuneful Men,
And all thy great Forefathers were from Homer down to Ben.

195

Brutus.

Excellent Brutus, of all humane race,
The best till Nature was improv'ed by Grace,
Till men above themselves Faith raised more
Then Reason above Beasts before.
Virtue was thy Lifes Center, and from thence
Did silently and constantly dispense
The gentle vigorous Influence
To all the wide and fair Circumference:
And all the parts upon it lean'd so easilie,
Obey'd the mighty force so willinglie
That none could discord or disorder see
In all their Contrarietie.
Each had his motion natural and free,
And the Whole no more mov'ed then the whole World could be.

2.

From thy strict rule some think that thou didst swerve
(Mistaken Honest men) in Cæsars blood;
What Mercy could the Tyrants Life deserve,
From him who kill'd Himself rather then serve?
Th'Heroick Exaltations of Good
Are so far from Understood,
We count them Vice: alas our Sight's so ill,
That things which swiftest Move seem to stand still.
We look not upon Virtue in her height,
On her supreme Idea, brave and bright,
In the Original Light:
But as her Beams reflected pass
Through our own Nature or ill Customs Glass.
And 'tis no wonder so,
If with dejected Ey
In standing Pools we seek the sky,
That Stars so high above should seem to us below.

196

3.

Can we stand by and see
Our Mother robb'ed, and bound, and ravisht be,
Yet not to her assistance stir,
Pleas'd with the Strength and Beauty of the Ravisher?
Or shall we fear to kill him, if before
The cancell'd Name of Friend he bore?
Ingrateful Brutus do they call?
Ingrateful Cæsar who could Rome enthrall!
An act more barbarous and unnatural
(In th'exact ballance of true Virtue try'de)
Then his Successor Nero's Parricide!
There's none but Brutus could deserve
That all men else should wish to serve,
And Cæsars usurpt place to him should proffer;
None can deserve't but he who would refuse the offer.

4.

Ill Fate assum'ed a Body thee t'affright,
And wrapt itself i'th' terrors of the night,
I'll meet thee at Philippi, said the Spright;
I'll meet thee there, saidst Thou,
With such a voyce, and such a brow,
As put the trembling Ghost to sudden flight,
It vanisht as a Tapers light
Goes out when Spirits appear in sight.
One would have thought t'had heard the morning crow,
Or seen her well-appointed Star
Come marching up the Eastern Hill afar.
Nor durst it in Philippi's field appear,
But unseen attaqu'ed thee there.
Had it presum'ed in any shape thee to oppose,
Thou wouldst have foro'ed it back upon thy foes:
Or slain't like Cæsar, though it be
A Conqu'eror and a Monarch mightier far then He.

5.

What joy can humane things to us afford,
When we see perish thus by odde events,
Ill men, and wretched Accidents,
The best Cause and best Man that ever drew a Sword?

197

When we see
The false Octavius, and wild Antonie,
God-like Brutus, conquer Thee?
What can we say but thine own Tragick Word,
That Virtue, which had worshipt been by thee
As the most solid Good, and greatest Deitie,
By this fatal proof became
An Idol only, and a Name,
Hold noble Brutus and restrain
The bold voyce of thy generous Disdain:
These mighty Gulphs are yet
Too deep for all thy Judgment and thy Wit.
The Time's set forth already which shall quell
Stiff Reason, when it offers to Rebell.
Which these great Secrets shall unseal,
And new Philosophies reveal.
A few years more, so soon hadst thou not dy'ed,
Would have confounded Humane Virtues pride,
And shew'd thee a God crucifi'ed.

To Dr. Scarborough.

How long, alas! has our mad Nation been
Of Epidemick War the Tragick Scene,
When Slaughter all the while
Seem'd like its Sea, embracing round the Isle,
With Tempests, and red waves, Noise, and Affright?
Albion no more, nor to be nam'ed from white!
What Province, or what City did it spare?
It, like a Plague, infected all the Aire.
Sure the unpeopled Land
Would now untill'd, desert, and naked stand,
Had Gods All-mighty hand
At the same time let loose Diseases rage
Their Civil Wars in Man to wage.
But Thou by Heaven wert sent
This Desolation to prevent,
A Medi'cine and a Counter-poyson to the Age,

198

Scarce could the Sword dispatch more to the Grave,
Then Thou didst save;
By wondrous Art, and by successful care
The Ruines of a Civil War thou dost alone repair.

2.

The Inundations of all Liquid pain,
And Deluge Dropsie thou do'est drain.
Feavers so hot that one would say
Thou mightst as soon Hell-fires allay
(The Damn'd scarce more incurable then They)
Thou dost so temper, that we find
Like Gold the Body but refin'd;
No unhealthful dross behind.
The subtle Ague, that for sureness sake
Takes its own times th' assault to make,
And at each battery the whole Fort does shake,
When thy strong Guards, and works it spies,
Trembles for it self, and flies.
The cruel Stone that restless pain
That's sometimes roll'd away in vain,
But still, like Sisyphus his stone, returns again,
Thou break'st and meltest by learn'd Juyces force,
(A greater work, though short the way appear,
Then Hannibals by Vinegar)
Oppressed Natures necessary course
It stops in vain, like Moses, Thou
Strik'st but the Rock, and straight the Waters freely flow.

3.

The Indian Son of Lust, (that foul Disease
Which did on this his new-found World, but lately seise;
Yet since a Tyrannie has planted here,
As wide and Cruel as the Spaniard there)
Is so quite rooted out by Thee,
That thy Patients seem to be
Restor'ed not to Health onely, but Virginitie.
The Plague it self, that proud Imperial Ill
Which destroys Towns, and does whole Armies kill,

199

If thou but succour the besieged Heart,
Calls all its poysons forth, and does depart,
As if it fear'd no less thy Art,
Then Aarons Incense, or then Phineas dart.
What need there here repeated be by me
The vast and barbarous Lexicon
Of Mans Infirmitie?
At thy strong charms it must be gon
Though a Disease, as well as Devil, were called Leagion.

4.

From creeping Moss to soaring Cedar thou
Dost all the powers and several Portions know,
Which Father-Sun, Mother-Earth below
On their green Infants here bestow.
Can'st all those Magick Virtues from them draw,
That keep Disease, and Death in aw.
Who whilst thy wondrous skill in Plants they see,
Fear lest the Tree of Life should be found out by Thee.
And Thy well-travell'd knowledge too does give
No less account of th'Empire Sensitive,
Chiefly of Man, whose Body is
That active Souls Metropolis.
As the great Artist in his Sphere of Glass
Saw the whole Scene of Heav'enly Motions pass,
So thou know'st all so well that's done within,
As if some living Chrystal Man thou'dst seen.

5.

Nor does this Science make thy Crown alone,
But Whole Apollo is thine owne.
His gentler Arts, belov'ed in vain by Mee,
Are wedded and enjoy'd by Thee.
Thou'rt by this noble Mixture free
From the Physitians frequent Maladie,
Fantastick Incivilitie,
There are who all their Patients chagrin have,
As if they took each morn worse potions then they gave.
And this great race of Learning thou hast runne,
E're that of Life be half yet done.

200

Thou see'st thy self still fresh and strong,
And like t'enjoy thy Conquests long.
The first fam'd Aphorism thy great Master spoke,
Did he live now he would revoke,
And better things of Man report;
For thou do'est make Life long, and Art but short.

6.

Ah, learned friend, it grieves me, when I think
That Thou with all thy Art must dy
As certainly as I.
And all thy noble Reparations sink
Into the sure-wrought Mine of treacherous Mortality.
Like Archimedes, hon'orably in vain,
Thou holdst out Towns that must at last be ta'ne,
And Thou thy self their great Defender slain.
Let's ev'en compound, and for the Present Live,
'Tis all the Ready Money Fate can give,
Unbend sometimes thy restless care;
And let thy Friends so happy be
T'enjoy at once their Health and Thee.
Some hours at least to thine own pleasures spare.
Since the whole stock may soon exhausted be,
Bestow't not all in Charitie.
Let Nature, and let Art do what they please,
When all's done, Life is an Incurable Disease.

201

Life and Fame.

1.

Oh Life, thou Nothings younger Brother!
So like, that one might take One for the other!
What's Some Body, or No Body?
In all the Cobwebs of the Schoolmens trade,

202

We no such nice Distinction woven see,
As 'tis To be, or Not to Be.
Dream of a Shadow! a Reflection made
From the false glories of the gay reflected Bow,
Is a more solid thing then Thou.
Vain weak-built Isthmus, which dost proudly rise
Up betwixt two Eternities;
Yet canst nor Wave nor Wind sustain,
But broken and orewhelm'd, the endless Oceans meet again.

2.

And with what rare Inventions do we strive,
Our selves then to survive?
Wise, subtle Arts, and such as well befit
That Nothing Mans no Wit.
Some with vast costly Tombs would purchase it,
And by the proofs of Death pretend to Live.
Here lies the Great—False Marble, where?
Nothing but small, and sordid Dust lies there.
Some build enormous Mountain-Palaces,
The Fools and Architects to please:
A lasting Life in well-hew'en Stone they rear:
So he who on th' Egyptian shore,
Was slain so many hundred years before,
Lives still (Oh Life most happy and most dear!
Oh Life that Epicures envy to hear!)
Lives in the dropping Ruines of his Ampitheater.

3.

His Father in Law an higher place does claim
In the Seraphique Entity of Fame.
He since that Toy his Death,
Does fill all Mouths, and breathes in all mens Breath.
'Tis true, the two Immortal Syllables remain,
But, Oh ye learned men, explain,
What Essence, what Existence this,
What Substance, what Subsistence, what Hypostasis
In Six poor Letters is?
In those alone does the Great Cæsar live,
'Tis all the Conquered World could give.

203

We Poets madder yet then all,
With a refin'ed Phantastick Vanitie,
Think we not onely Have, but Give Eternitie.
Fain would I see that Prodigal,
Who his To-morrow would bestow,
For all old Homers Life e're since he Dy'ed till now.

204

The Extasie.

1

I leave Mortality, and things below;
I have no time in Complements to wast,
Farewel to'ye all in hast,
For I am call'd to go.
A Whirlwind bears up my dull Feet,
Th'officious Clouds beneath them meet.
And (Lo!) I mount, and (Lo!)
How small the biggest Parts of Earths proud Tittle show!

2

Where shall I find the noble Brittish Land?
Lo, I at last a Northern Spec espie,
Which in the Sea does lie,
And seems a Grain o'th' Sand!
For this will any sin, or Bleed?
Of Civil Wars is this the Meed?
And is it this, alas, which we
(Oh Irony of Words!) do call Great Britanie?

3

I pass by th'arched Magazins, which hold
Th' eternal stores of Frost, and Rain, and Snow;
Dry, and secure I go,
Nor shake with Fear, or Cold.
Without affright or wonder
I meet Clouds charg'd with Thunder,
And Lightnings in my way
Like harmless Lambent Fiers about my Temples play.

4

Now into'a gentle Sea of rowling Flame
I'm plung'ed, and still mount higher there,
As Flames mount up through aire.
So perfect, yet so tame,
So great, so pure, so bright a fire
Was that unfortunate desire,
My faithful Breast did cover,
Then, when I was of late a wretched Mortal Lover.

205

5

Through several Orbs which one fair Planet bear,
Where I behold distinctly as I pass
The Hints of Galilæos Glass,
I touch at last the spangled Sphære.
Here all th'extended Skie
Is but one Galaxie,
'Tis all so bright and gay,
And the joynt Eyes of Night make up a perfect Day.

6

Where am I now? Angels and God is here;
An unexhausted Ocean of delight
Swallows my senses quite,
And drowns all What, or How, or Where.
Not Paul, who first did thither pass,
And this great Worlds Columbus was,
The tyrannous pleasure could express.
Oh 'tis too much for Man! but let it ne're be less.

7

The mighty' Elijah mounted so on high,
That second Man, who leapt the Ditch where all
The rest of Mankind fall,
And went not downwards to the skie.
With much of pomp and show
(As Conquering Kings in Triumph go)
Did he to Heav'en approach,
And wondrous was his Way, and wondrous was his Coach.

8

'Twas gawdy all, and rich in every part,
Of Essences of Gems, and Spirit of Gold
Was its substantial mold;
Drawn forth by Chymique Angels art.
Here with Moon-beams 'twas silver'd bright,
There double-gilt with the Suns light
And mystique Shapes cut round in it,
Figures that did transcend a Vulgar Angels wit.

206

9

The Horses were of temper'd Lightning made,
Of all that in Heav'ens beauteous Pastures feed,
The noblest, sprightfulst breed,
And flaming Mains their Necks array'd.
They all were shod with Diamond,
Not such as here are found,
But such light solid ones as shine
On the Transparent Rocks o'th' Heaven Chrystalline.

10

Thus mounted the great Prophet to the skies;
Astonisht Men who oft had seen Stars fall,
Or that which so they call,
Wondred from hence to see one rise.
The soft Clouds melted him a way,
The Snow and Frosts which in it lay
A while the sacred footsteps bore,
The Wheels and Horses Hoofs hizz'd as they past them ore.

11

He past by th' Moon and Planets, and did fright
All the Worlds there which at this Meteor gaz'ed,
And their Astrologers amaz'd
With th'unexampled sight.
But where he stopt will ne're be known,
Till Phœnix Nature aged grown
To'a better Being do aspire,
And mount herself, like Him, to' Eternitie in Fire.

To the New Year.

1.

Great Janus, who dost sure my Mistris view
With all thine eyes, yet think'st them all too few:
If thy Fore-face do see
No better things prepar'ed for me,
Then did thy Face behind,
If still her Breast must shut against me be

207

(For 'tis not Peace that Temples Gate does bind)
Oh let my Life, if thou so many deaths a coming find,
With thine old year its voyage take
Born down, that stream of Time which no return can make.

2.

Alas, what need I thus to pray?
Th'old avaritious year
Whether I would or no, will bear
At least a part of Me away.
His well-horst Troops, the Months, and Days, and Hours,
Though never any where they stay,
Make in their passage all their Prey.
The Months, Days, Hours that march i'th' Rear can find
Nought of Value left behind.
All the good Wine of Life our drunken youth devours;
Sowreness and Lees, which to the bottom sink,
Remain for latter years to Drink.
Until some one offended with the taste
The Vessel breaks, and out the wretched Reliques run at last.

3.

If then, young year, thou needs must come,
(For in Times fruitful womb
The Birth beyond its Time can never tarry,
Nor ever can miscarry)
Choose thy Attendants well; for 'tis not Thee
We fear, but 'tis thy Companie,
Let neither Loss of Friends, or Fame, or Libertie,
Nor pining Sickness, nor tormenting Pain,
Nor Sadness, nor uncleanly Povertie,
Be seen among thy Train,
Nor let thy Livery be
Either black Sin, or gawdy vanitie;
Nay, if thou lov'st me, gentle Year,
Let not so much as Love be there:
Vain fruitless Love, I mean; for, gentle Year,
Although I feare,
There's of this Caution little need,
Yet, gentle Year, take heed

208

How thou dost make
Such a Mistake.
Such Love I mean alone
As by thy cruel Predecessors has been shown,
For though I'have too much cause to doubt it,
I fain would try for once if Life can Live without it.

4.

Into the Future Times why do we pry,
And seek to Antedate our Misery?
Like Jealous men why are we longing still
To See the thing which onely seeing makes an Ill?
'Tis well the Face is vail'd; for 'twere a Sight
That would even Happiest men affright,
And something still they'd spy that would destroy
The past and Present Joy
In whatsoever Character;
The Book of Fate is writ,
'Tis well we understand not it,
We should grow Mad with little Learning there.
Upon the Brink of every Ill we did Foresee,
Undecently and foolishlie
We should stand shivering, and but slowly venter
The Fatal Flood to enter,
Since willing, or unwilling we must do it,
They feel least cold and pain who plunge at once into it.

209

Life.

Nascentes Morimur. Manil.

1.

We're ill by these Grammarians us'd;
We are abus'd by Words, grosly abus'd;
From the Maternal Tomb,
To the Graves fruitful Womb,
We call here Life; but Life's a name
That nothing here can truly claim:
This wretched Inn, where we scarce stay to bait:
We call our Dwelling-place;
We call one Step a Race:
But Angels in their full enlightned state,
Angels who Live, and know what 'tis to Be,
Who all the nonsense of our Language see,
Who speak Things, and our Words, their ill-drawn Pictures scorn,
When we by'a foolish Figure say,
Behold an old man Dead! then they
Speak properly, and cry, Behold a man-child born.

2.

My Eyes are opened, and I see
Through the Transparent Fallacie:
Because we seem wisely to talk
Like men of business; and for business walk
From place to place,
And mighty voyages we take,
And mighty Journeys seem to make,
O're Sea and Land, the little Point that has no space.
Because we fight, and Battels gain;
Some Captives call, and say, the rest are slain.
Because we heap up yellow Earth, and so,
Rich, valiant, wise, and vertuous seem to grow;
Because we draw a long Nobilitie
From Hieroglyphick proofs of Herauldrie,
And impudently talk of a Posteritie,
And, like Egyptian Chroniclers,
Who write of twenty thousand years,

210

With Maravedies make the' account,
That single Time might to a sum amount,
We grow at last by Custom to believe,
That really we Live:
Whilst all these Shadows that for Things we take,
Are but the empty Dreams which in Deaths sleep we make.

3.

But these fantastique errors of our Dream,
Lead us to solid wrong;
We pray God, our Friends torments to prolong,
And wish uncharitably for them,
To be as long a Dying as Methusalem.
The ripened Soul longs from his pris'on to come,
But we would seal, and sow up, if we could, the Womb.
We seek to close and plaster up by Art
The cracks and breaches of the' extended Shell,
And in that narrow Cell
Would rudely force to dwell,
The noble vigorous Bird already wing'd to part.

211

The 34. Chapter of the Prophet Isaiah.

1.

Awake, and with attention hear,
Thou drowsie World, for it concerns thee near;
Awake, I say, and listen well,
To what from God, I, his loud Prophet, tell.
Bid both the Poles suppress their stormy noise,
And bid the roaring Sea contain its voyce.
Be still thou Sea, be still thou Air and Earth,
Still, as old Chaos, before Motions birth,
A dreadful Host of Judgments is gone out;
In strength and number more
Then e're was rais'd by God before,
To scourge the Rebel World, and march it round about.

212

2.

I see the Sword of God brandisht above;
And from it streams a dismal ray;
I see the Scabbard cast away.
How red anon with Slaughter will it prove!
How will it sweat and reek in blood!
How will the Scarlet-glutton be o'regorged with his food!
And devour all the mighty Feast!
Nothing soon but Bones will rest.
God does a solemn Sacrifice prepare;
But not of Oxen, nor of Rams,
Not of Kids, nor of their Dams,
Not of Heifers, nor of Lams.
The Altar all the Land, and all Men in't the Victims are,
Since wicked Mens more guilty blood to spare,
The Beasts so long have sacrificed bin,
Since Men their Birth-right forfeit still by Sin,
'Tis fit at last Beasts their Revenge should have,
And Sacrificed Men their better Brethren save.

3.

So will they fall, so will they flee;
Such will the Creatures wild distraction be,
When at the final Doom,
Nature and Time shall both be Slain,
Shall struggle with Deaths pangs in vain,
And the whole world their Funeral Pile become.
The wide-stretcht Scrowl of Heaven, which we
Immortal as the Deity think,
With all the beauteous Characters that in it
With such deep Sense by Gods own Hand were writ,
Whose Eloquence though we understand not, we admire,
Shall crackle, and the parts together shrink
Like Parchment in a fire.
Th'exhausted Sun to th'Moon no more shall lend;
But truly then headlong into the Sea descend.
The glittering Host, now in such fair array,
So proud, so well appointed, and so gay,

213

Like fearful Troops in some strong Ambush ta'ne,
Shall some fly routed, and some fall slaine,
Thick as ripe Fruit, or yellow Leaves in Autumn fall,
With such a violent Storm as blows down Tree and all.

4.

And Thou, O cursed Land,
Which wilt not see the Præcipice where thou dost stand,
Though thou standst just upon the brink;
Thou of this poysoned Bowl the bitter Dregs shalt drink.
Thy Rivers and thy Lakes shall so
With humane blood oreflow;
That they shall fetch the slaughter'd corps away,
Which in the fields around unburied lay,
And rob the Beasts and Birds to give the Fish their prey.
The rotting corps shall so infect the aire;
Beget such Plagues, and putrid Venomes there,
That by thine own Dead shall be slain,
All thy few Living that remain.
As one who buys, Surveys a ground,
So the Destroying Angel measures it around.
So careful and so strict he is,
Lest any Nook or Corner he should miss.
He walks about the perishing Nation,
Ruine behind him stalks and empty Desolation.

5.

Then shall the Market and the Pleading-place
Be choakt with Brambles and oregrown with grass.
The Serpents through thy Streets shall rowl,
And in thy lower rooms the Wolves shall howl,
And thy gilt Chambers lodge the Raven and the Owl,
And all the wing'd Ill-Omens of the aire,
Though no new-Ills can be fore-boded there.
The Lyon then shall to the Leopard say,
Brother Leopard come away;
Behold a Land which God has giv'en us in prey!
Behold a Land from whence we see
Mankind expulst, His and Our common Enemie!
The Brother Leopard shakes himself, and does not stay.

214

6.

The glutted Vulturs shall expect in vain
New Armies to be slain.
Shall find at last the business done,
Leave their consumed Quarters, and be gone.
Th'unburied Ghosts shall sadly moan,
The Satyrs laugh to hear them groan.
The Evil Spirits that delight
To dance and revel in the Mask of Night,
The Moon and Stars, their sole Spectators shall affright.
And if of lost Mankind
Ought happen to be left behind,
If any Reliques but remain,
They in the Dens shall lurk, Beasts in the Palaces shall raign.

219

The Plagues of Egypt.

1.

Is this thy Brav'ery Man, is this thy Pride?
Rebel to God, and Slave to all beside!
Captiv'ed by everything! and onely Free
To fly from thine own Libertie!
All Creatures the Creator said Were Thine;
No Creature but might since, say, Man is Mine!
In black Egyptian Slavery we lie;
And sweat and toil in the vile Drudgerie
Of Tyrant Sin;
To which we Trophees raise, and wear out all our Breath,
In building up the Monuments of Death;
We, the choice Race, to God and Angels Kin!
In vain the Prophets and Apostles come
To call us home,

220

Home to the promis'ed Canaan above,
Which does with nourishing Milk, and pleasant Honey flow;
And ev'en i'th'way to which we should be fed
With Angels tasteful Bread:
But, we, alas, the Flesh-pots love,
We love the very Leeks and sordid roots below.

2.

In vain we Judgments feel, and Wonders see;
In vain did God to descend hither dain,
He was his own Ambassador in vain,
Our Moses and our Guid himself to be.
We will not let our selves to go,
And with worse hardned hearts do our own Pharaohs grow;
Ah, lest at last we perish so!
Think, stubborn Man, think of th'Egyptian Prince,
(Hard of Belief and Will, but not so hard as Thou)
Think with what dreadful proofs God did convince
The feeble arguments that humane pow'er could show;
Think what Plagues attend on Thee,
Who Moses God dost now refuse, more oft then Moses He.

3.

If from some God you come (said the proud King)
With half a smile and half a Frown;
(But what God can to Egypt be unknown?)
What Sign, what Powers, what Credence do you bring?
Behold his Seal, behold his Hand,
Cryes Moses, and casts down th' Almighty Wand.
Th' Almighty Wand scarce toucht the Earth,
When with an undiscerned birth
Th' Almighty Wand a Serpent grew
And his long half in painted folds behind him drew.
Upwards his threatning Tail he threw;
Upwards he cast his threatning Head,
He gap'ed and hist aloud;
With flaming Eyes survey'd the trembling croud,
And like a Basilisk almost lookt the Assembly dead;
Swift fled th' Amazed King, the Guards before him fled.

221

4.

Jannes and Jambres stopt their flight,
And with proud words allay'd th'affright.
The God of Slaves (said they) how can he be
More powerful then their Masters Deitie?
And down they cast their Rods,
And mutter'ed secret sounds that charm the servile Gods.
The evil Spirits their charms obey,
And in a subtle cloud they snatch the Rods away,
And Serpents in their place the airy Juglers lay.
Serpents in Egypts monstrous land,
Were ready still at hand,
And all at the Old Serpents first command.
And they too gap'ed, and they too hist,
And they their threatning Tails did twist,
But strait on both the Hebrew-Serpent flew;
Broke both their active Backs, and both it slew,
And both almost at once devour'ed,
So much was over-power'ed
By Gods miraculous Creation
His Servants Natures slightly-wrought, and feeble Generation.

5.

On the fame'd bank the Prophets stood,
Toucht with their Rod, and wounded all the Flood;
Flood now no more, but a long Vein of putrid Blood.
The helpless Fish were found
In their strange Current drownd,
The Herbs and Trees washt by the mortal Tide
About it blusht and dyed.
Th'amazed Crocodiles made haste to ground;
From their vast trunks the dropping gore they spied,
Thought it their Own, and dreadfully aloud they cried.
Nor all thy Priests, nor Thou
Oh King, couldst ever show
From whence thy wandring Nile begins his course;
Of this new Nile thou seest the sacred Sourse;
And as thy Land that does oreflow,
Take heed lest this do so.
What Plague more just could on thy Waters fall?

222

The Hebrew Infants Murder stains them all.
The kind, instructing Punishment enjoy;
Whom the Red River cannot Mend, the Red-sea shall Destroy.

6.

The River yet gave one Instruction more,
And from the rotting Fish and unconcocted Gore,
Which was but Water just before,
A loathsome Host was quickly made,
That scale'd the Banks, & with loud noise did all the Country invade.
As Nilus when he quits his sacred Bed
(But like a Friend he visits all the Land
With welcome presents in his hand)
So did this Living Tide the Fields orespread.
In vain th'alarmed Countrey tries
To kill their noisome Enemies,
From th'unexhausted Sourse still new Recruits arise.
Nor does the Earth these greedy Troops suffice,
The Towns and Houses they possess,
The Temples and the Palaces,
Nor Pharaoh, nor his Gods they fear;
Both their importune croakings hear.
Unsatiate yet they mount up higher,
Where never Sun-born Frog durst to aspire;
And in the silken Beds their slimy Members place;
A Luxurie unknown before to all the Watry Race.

7.

The Water thus her Wonders did produce;
But both were to no use.
As yet the Sorcerers mimick power serv'ed for excuse.
Try what the Earth will do (said God) and, Lo!
They stroke the Earth a fertile blow.
And all the Dust did strait to stir begin;
One would have thought some sudden Wind t'had bin;
But, Lo, 'twas nimble Life was got within!
And all the little Springs did move,
And every Dust did an arm'ed Vermine prove,
Of an unknown and new-created kind,
Such as the Magick-Gods could neither make nor find.

223

The wretched shameful Foe allow'ed no rest
Either to Man or Beast.
Not Phar[ao]h from th'unquiet Plague could be,
With all his change of Rayments free;
The Devils themselves confest
This was Gods Hand; and 'twas but just
To punish thus mans pride, to punish Dust with Dust.

8.

Lo the third Element does his Plagues prepare,
And swarming Clouds of Insects fill the Air.
With sullen noise they take their flight,
And march in Bodies infinite;
In vain 'tis Day above, 'tis still beneath them Night.
Of harmful Flies the Nations numberless,
Compos'ed this mighty Armies spacious boast;
Of different Manners, different Languages;
And different Habits too they wore,
And different Arms they bore.
And some, like Scythians, liv'ed on Blood,
And some on Green, and some on Flowry Food,
And Accaron, the Airy Prince, led on this various Host.
Houses secure not Men, the populous ill
Did all the Houses fill.
The Country, all around,
Did with the cryes of tortured Cattel sound;
About the fields enrag'ed they flew,
And wisht the Plague that was t'ensue.

9.

From poysonous Stars a mortal Influence came
(The mingled Malice of their Flame)
A skilful Angel did th'Ingredients take,
And with just hands the sad Composure make,
And over all the Land did the full viol shake.
Thirst, Giddiness, Faintness, and putrid Heats,
And pining Pains, and Shivering Sweats,
On all the Cattle, all the Beasts did fall;
With deform'ed Death the Countrey's covered all.

224

The labouring Ox drops down before the Plow;
The crowned Victims to the Altar led
Sink, and prevent the lifted blow.
The generous Horse from the full Manger turns his Head;
Does his Lov'ed Floods and Pastures scorn,
Hates the shrill Trumpet and the Horn,
Nor can his lifeless Nostril please,
With the once-ravishing smell of all his dappled Mistresses.
The starving Sheep refuse to feed,
They bleat their innocent Souls out into air;
The faithful Dogs lie gasping by them there;
Th'astonisht Shepherd weeps, and breaks his tuneful Reed.

10.

Thus did the Beasts for Mans Rebellion dy,
God did on Man a Gentler Medicine try,
And a Disease for Physick did apply.
Warm ashes from the Furnace Moses took;
The Sorcerers did with wonder on him look;
And smil'ed at th'unaccustom'ed Spell
Which no Egyptian Rituals tell.
He flings the pregnant Ashes through the Air,
And speaks a mighty Pray'er,
Both which the Ministring Winds around all Egypt bear.
As gentle western Blasts with downy wings
Hatching the tender Springs
To the'unborn Buds with vital whispers say,
Ye Living Buds why do ye stay?
The passionate Buds break through the Bark their way:
So wheresoere this tainted Wind but blew,
Swelling Pains and Ulcers grew;
It from the body call'ed all sleeping Poysons out,
And to them added new;
A noysome Spring of Sores, as thick as Leaves did sprout.

11.

Heaven it self is angry next;
Wo to Man, when Heav'en is vext.
With sullen brow it frown'd,
And murmur'ed first in an imperfect sound.

225

Till Moses lifting up his hand,
Waves the expected Signal of his Wand,
And all the full-charg'ed clouds in ranged Squadrons move,
And fill the spacious Plains above.
Through which the rowling Thunder first does play,
And opens wide the Tempests noisy way.
And straight a stony shower
Of monstrous Hail does downwards pour,
Such as nere Winter yet brought forth
From all her stormy Magazins of the North.
It all the Beasts and Men abroad did slay,
O're the defaced corps, like Monuments, lay,
The houses and strong-body'ed Trees it broke,
Nor askt aid from the Thunders stroke.
The Thunder but for Terror through it flew,
The Hail alone the work could do.
The dismal Lightnings all around,
Some flying through the Air, some running on the ground,
Some swimming o're the waters face,
Fill'd with bright Horror every place.
One would have thought their dreadful Day to have seen,
The very Hail, and Rain it self had kindled been.

12.

The Infant Corn, which yet did scarce appear,
Escap'ed this general Massacer
Of every thing that grew,
And the well-stored Egyptian year
Began to cloath her Fields and Trees anew.
When, Lo! a scorching wind from the burnt Countrys blew,
And endless Legions with it drew
Of greedy Locusts, who where e're
With sounding wings they flew,
Left all the Earth depopulate and bare,
As if Winter it self had marcht by there.
What e're the Sun and Nile
Gave with large Bounty to the thankful soil,
The wretched Pillagers bore away,
And the whole Summer was their Prey,

226

Till Moses with a prayer
Breath'd forth a violent Western wind,
Which all these living clouds did headlong bear
(No Stragglers left behind)
Into the purple Sea, and there bestow
On the luxurious Fish a Feast they ne're did know.
With untaught joy, Pharaoh the News does hear,
And little thinks their Fate attends on Him, and His so near.

13.

What blindness or what Darkness did there e're
Like this undocil King's appear?
What e're but that which now does represent
And paint the Crime out in the Punishment?
From the deep, baleful Caves of Hell below,
Where the old Mother Night does grow,
Substantial Night, that does disclaime,
Privation's empty Name,
Through secret conduits monstrous shapes arose,
Such as the Suns whole force could not oppose,
They with a Solid Cloud
All Heavens Eclypsed Face did shrowd.
Seem'd with large Wings spred o're the Sea and Earth
To brood up a new Chaos his deformed birth.
And every Lamp, and every Fire
Did at the dreadful sight wink and expire,
To th'Empyrean Sourse all streams of Light seem'd to retire.
The living Men were in their standing-houses buried;
But the long Night no slumber knows,
But the short Death finds no repose.
Ten thousand terrors through the darkness fled,
And Ghosts complain'd, and Spirits murmured.
And Fancies multiplying sight
View'd all the Scenes Invisible of Night.

14.

Of Gods dreadful anger these
Were but the first light Skirmishes;
The Shock and bloody battel now begins,
The plenteous Harvest of full-ripened Sins.

227

It was the time, when the still Moon
Was mounted softly to her Noon,
And dewy sleep, which from Nights secret springs arose,
Gently as Nile the land oreflows.
When (Lo!) from the high Countreys of refined Day,
The Golden Heaven without allay,
Whose dross in the Creation purg'ed away,
Made up the Suns adulterate ray,
Michael, the warlike Prince, does downwards fly
Swift as the journeys of the Sight,
Swift as the race of Light,
And with his Winged Will cuts through the yielding sky.
He past throw many a Star, and as he past,
Shone (like a star in them) more brightly there,
Then they did in their Sphere.
On a tall Pyramids pointed Head he stopt at last,
And a mild look of sacred Pity cast
Down on the sinful Land where he was sent,
T'inflict the tardy punishment.
Ah! yet (said He) yet stubborn King repent;
Whilst thus unarm'ed I stand,
Ere the keen Sword of God fill my commanded Hand;
Suffer but yet Thy self, and Thine to live;
Who would, alas! believe
That it for Man (said He)
So hard to be Forgiven should be,
And yet for God so easie to Forgive!

15.

He spoke, and downwards flew,
And ore his shining Form a well-cut cloud he threw
Made of the blackest Fleece of Night,
And close-wrought to keep in the powerful Light,
Yet wrought so fine it hindred not his Flight.
But through the Key-holes and the chinks of dores,
And through the narrow'est Walks of crooked Pores,
He past more swift and free,
Then in wide air the wanton Swallows flee.

228

He took a pointed Pestilence in his hand,
The Spirits of thousand mortal poysons made
The strongly temper'd Blade,
The sharpest Sword that e're was laid
Up in the Magazins of God to scourge a wicked Land.
Through Egypts wicked Land his march he took.
And as he marcht the sacred First-born strook
Of every womb; none did he spare;
None from the meanest Beast to Cenchres purple Heire.

16.

The swift approach of endless Night,
Breaks ope the wounded Sleepers rowling Eyes;
They'awake the rest with dying cries,
And Darkness doubles the affright.
The mixed sounds of scatter'd Deaths they hear,
And lose their parted Souls 'twixt Grief and Fear.
Louder then all the shrieking Womens voice
Pierces this Chaos of confused noise.
As brighter Lightning cuts a way
Clear, and distinguisht through the Day.
With less complaints the Zoan Temples sound,
When the adored Heifer's drownd,
And no true markt Successor to be found.
Whilst Health, and Strength, and Gladness does possess
The festal Hebrew Cottages;
The blest Destroyer comes not there
To interrupt the sacred cheare
That new begins their well-reformed Year.
Upon their doors he read and understood,
Gods Protection writ in Blood;
Well was he skild i'th' Character Divine;
And though he past by it in haste,
He bow'd and worshipt as he past,
The mighty Mysterie through its humble Signe.

17.

The Sword strikes now too deep and near,
Longer with it's edge to play;
No Diligence or Cost they spare
To haste the Hebrews now away,

229

Pharaoh himself chides their delay;
So kinde and bountiful is Fear!
But, oh, the Bounty which to Fear we ow,
Is but like Fire struck out of stone.
So hardly got, and quickly gone,
That it scarce out-lives the Blow.
Sorrow and fear soon quit the Tyrants brest;
Rage and Revenge their place possest
With a vast Host of Chariots and of Horse,
And all his powerful Kingdoms ready force
The travelling Nation he pursues;
Ten times orecome, he still th'unequal war renewes.
Fill'd with proud hopes, At least (said he)
Th' Egyptian Gods from Syrian Magick free
Will now revenge Themselves and Me;
Behold what passless Rocks on either hand
Like Prison walls about them stand!
Whilst the Sea bounds their Flight before,
And in our injur'ed justice they must find
A far worse stop then Rocks and Seas behind.
Which shall with crimson gore
New paint the Waters Name, and double dye the shore.

18.

He spoke; and all his Host
Approv'ed with shouts th'unhappy boast,
A bidden wind bore his vain words away,
And drown'd them in the neighb'ring Sea.
No means t'escape the faithless Travellers spie,
And with degenerous fear to die,
Curse their new-gotten Libertie.
But the great Guid well knew he led them right,
And saw a Path hid yet from humane sight.
He strikes the raging waves, the waves on either side
Unloose their close Embraces, and divide;
And backwards press, as in some solemn show
The crowding People do
(Though just before no space was seen)
To let the admired Triumph pass between.

230

The wondring Army saw on either hand
The no less wondring Waves, like Rocks of Crystal stand.
They marcht betwixt, and boldly trod
The secret paths of God.
And here and there all scatter'd in their way
The Seas old spoils, and gaping Fishes lay
Deserted on the sandy plain,
The Sun did with astonishment behold
The inmost Chambers of the opened Main,
For whatsoere of old
By his own Priests the Poets has been said,
He never sunk till then into the Oceans Bed.

19.

Led chearfully by a bright Captain Flame,
To th'other shore at Morning Dawn they came,
And saw behind th'unguided Foe
March disorderly and slow.
The Prophet straight from th'Idumæan strand
Shakes his Imperious Wand.
The upper waves, that highest crowded lie,
The beckning Wand espie.
Straight their first right-hand files begin to move,
And with a murmuring wind
Give the word March to all behind.
The left-hand Squadrons no less ready prove,
But with a joyful louder noise
Answer their distant fellows voice,
And haste to meet them make,
As several Troops do all at once a common Signal take.
What tongue th'amazement and th'affright can tell
Which on the Chamian Army fell,
When on both sides they saw the roaring Main
Broke loose from his Invisible Chain?
They saw the monstrous Death and watry War
Come rowling down loud Ruine from afar.
In vain some backward, and some forwards fly
With helpless haste; in vain they cry
To their Cœlestial Beasts for aid;
In vain their guilty King they'upbraid,

231

In vain on Moses he, and Moses God does call,
With a Repentance true too late;
They're compast round with a devouring Fate
That draws, like a strong Net, the mighty Sea upon them All.