The poems of George Daniel ... From the original mss. in the British Museum: Hitherto unprinted. Edited, with introduction, notes, and illustrations, portrait, &c. By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart: In four volumes |
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L' Envoy.
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 | The poems of George Daniel |  |
L' Envoy.
The near-tir'd Pilgrim (whose high Pietie
Wings Earth, Grand Chimist, in Divinitie;
Exalted Man! not when he from the Hill
May veiw faire Solima, but when his will
(The Mountaine of his Flesh) is trodden downe
And gives him Prospect, to Devotion,
The holy Citty of the East; soe gladds
Himselfe, & kneels; as wee, whose Passion wades
T'Attend his Vertue, through the barren Sands;
Proud Libanus (whose heavie Cædars, from
Collateral Lines have planted Christendome)
Now past with many feet; Our Iourney ends
At Salem, that hard Step; ye worst way Spends
With Resolution in our Toyle; but when
Wee tread the Easie Flatt, wee're lazy then.
Wings Earth, Grand Chimist, in Divinitie;
Exalted Man! not when he from the Hill
May veiw faire Solima, but when his will
(The Mountaine of his Flesh) is trodden downe
And gives him Prospect, to Devotion,
The holy Citty of the East; soe gladds
Himselfe, & kneels; as wee, whose Passion wades
T'Attend his Vertue, through the barren Sands;
Proud Libanus (whose heavie Cædars, from
Collateral Lines have planted Christendome)
Now past with many feet; Our Iourney ends
At Salem, that hard Step; ye worst way Spends
With Resolution in our Toyle; but when
Wee tread the Easie Flatt, wee're lazy then.
Now bath, in Lethe-Iordan; of a Power
'Bove other waters, made to cleanse this Sore;
Th' Old tumor'd Leprosie! the fatall Shirt!
Dire Nessus Blood! or Naaman's drye Dirt!
Forget the Sirian Streames; Lost Paradice;
Damascus, has no other waters of that Price;
Euphrates Sweet, nor Gidd Tigris laves
Th' Imagin'd garden with such wholesome Waves;
Their vertue long since lost; & ev'n in their Mudd
But Soap's our Gvilt, to seeke another Flood;
Tread deep; lay in thy Shoulders; doe not feare
These waters, more then Oyle enrich thy Haire.
Strike through ye Waves, & cleanséd, set thy foot
On further Side; thy Follyes, all forgot;
Enioy thy Seekings, in a Trance of Rest;
Death, Liberty, & all what Folly gvest,
Plausible, left behind; the world soe quitt
Envies thee nothing, & thou dread'st it.
'Bove other waters, made to cleanse this Sore;
Th' Old tumor'd Leprosie! the fatall Shirt!
Dire Nessus Blood! or Naaman's drye Dirt!
Forget the Sirian Streames; Lost Paradice;
Damascus, has no other waters of that Price;
Euphrates Sweet, nor Gidd Tigris laves
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Their vertue long since lost; & ev'n in their Mudd
But Soap's our Gvilt, to seeke another Flood;
Tread deep; lay in thy Shoulders; doe not feare
These waters, more then Oyle enrich thy Haire.
Strike through ye Waves, & cleanséd, set thy foot
On further Side; thy Follyes, all forgot;
Enioy thy Seekings, in a Trance of Rest;
Death, Liberty, & all what Folly gvest,
Plausible, left behind; the world soe quitt
Envies thee nothing, & thou dread'st it.
Then be it as it may; where only Truth
Is Center'd, Peace, can be; & he pursu'th
The Meteor of his Braine, who doth Contend
Libertie, ere he have attain'd, the End.
Is Center'd, Peace, can be; & he pursu'th
The Meteor of his Braine, who doth Contend
Libertie, ere he have attain'd, the End.
| The poems of George Daniel | |