Theophila :: :: University of Virginia Library

Mount, Fancie, then through Orbs to Glories Sphere;
(Wilde is the Course that ends not there:)
You, who are Virtues Friends, lend to her Tongue an Ear.

V

Let not the wanton Love-fights, which may rise
From vocal Fifes, Flame-darting Eyes,
(Beauties Munition) Hearts wth Wounds unseen surprize:

VI

Whose Basilisk-like Glances taint the Air
Of Virgin purenesse, and ensnare
Entangled Thoughts i'th' Trammels of their Ambush-hair.

VII

Loves Captive view, who's Daies in warm Frosts spends;
On's Idol dotes, to Wit pretends;
Writes, blots, & rends; nor heeds where he begins or ends.

VIII

His Stock of Verse in Comick Fragments lies:
Higher than Ten'riffs Pique He flies:
Sols but a spark; Thou outray'st all Diamonds of the Skies.

IX

Victorious Flames glow from thy brighter Eye;
Cloud those twin-lightning Orbs (They'l frie
An ice-vein'd Monk) cloud Them, or, Planet-struck, I die.

X

Indians, pierce Rocks for Gems; Negro's, the Brine
For Pearls; Tartars, to hunt combine
For Sables; Consecrate all Off'rings at Her Shrine.

XI

Crouch low.—O, Vermeil-tinctur'd Cheek! for, thence
The Organs to my Optick Sense
Are dazled at the Blaze of so bright Angelence.

XII

Does Troy-bane Hellen (Friend) with Angels share?
All Lawlesse Passions Idols are:
Frequent are fuco'd Cheeks; The Virtuosa's rare:

XIII

A Truth authentick. Let not skin-deep white
And red, perplex the nobler Light
O'th' Intellect; nor mask the Souls clear piercing Sight.

XIV

Burn Odes, Lusts Paperplots; Fly Playes, its Flame;
Shun guileful Courtisms; Forge for Shame
No Chains; Lip-traffick, and Eye-dialogues disclaim.

XV

Hark how the frothy, empty Heads within
Roar and carouse i'th' jovial Sin,
Amidst the wilde Levalto's on their merry Pin!

XVI

Drain dry the ransackt Cellars, and resign
Your Reason up to Riot, joyn
Your Fleet, & sail by sugar-rocks through Floods of Wine:

XVII

Send Care to dead Sea of Phlegmattick Age;
Ride without Bit your restive Rage;
And act your Revel-rout Thus on the tipling Stage.

XVIII

Swell us a lustie Brimmer,—more,—till most;
So Vast, that none may spie the Coast:
Wee'l down with All, though therein sail'd Lepanto's Host:

XIX

Top and Top-gallant hoise; We will out-rore
The bellowing Storms, though shipwrackt more
Healths are, than tempting'st Syrens did inchant of yore

XX

Each Gallon breeds a Ruby;—Drawer, score 'um;
Cheeks dy'd in Claret seem o'th' Quorum,
When our Nose-carbuncles, like Link-boyes, blaze before'um.

XXI

Such are their Ranting Catches to unsoul,
And out-law Man; They stagger, rowl,
Their feet indent, their Sense being drunk with Circes Bowl.

XXII

Intombed Souls! Why rot ye thus alive,
Melting your Salt to Lees? and strive
To strangle Nature, and hatch Death? Healths, Health deprive.

XXIII

The sinlesse Herd loaths your Sense-stifling Streams,
When long Spits point your Tale: Ye Breams
In Wine and Sleep, your Princes are but Fumes, and Dreams.

XXIV

I'd rather be preserv'd in Brine, than rot
In Nectar. Now to Dice they're got:
Their Tables snare in both; Then what can be their Shot?

XXV

Yet Blades will throw at All, sans Fear, or Wit;
Oaths black the Night when Dice do'nt hit;
When Winners lose at Play, can Losers win by it?

XXVI

Egypts Spermatick Nurse, when her spread Floor
Is flow'd 'bove sev'nteen Cubits ore,
Breeds Dearth: And Spend-thrifts waste, when they enflame the Score.

XXVII

Tell me, ye pybald Butterflies, who poise
Extrinsick with intrinsick Joyes;
What gain ye from such short-liv'd, fruitless, empty Toys?

XXVIII

Ye Fools, who barter Gold for Trash, report,
Can Fire in Pictures warm? Can Sport
That stings, the mock-sense fill? How low's your Heav'n! how short!

XXIX

Go, chaffer Blisse for Pleasure, which is had
More by the Beast, than Man; the Bad
Swim in their Mirth: (CHRIST wept, nere laught) The Best are sad.

XXX

Brutes covet nought but what's terrene; Heav'ns Quire
Do in eternal Joyes conspire;
Man 'twixt them Both does intermediate Things desire.

XXXI

Had we no Bodies, we were Angels; and
Had we no Souls, we were unmann'd
To Beasts: Brutes are all Flesh, all Spirit the Heav'nly Band.

XXXII

At first GOD made them One thus, by subjecting
The Sense to Reason; and directing
The Appetite by th' Spirit: But Sin by infecting

XXXIII

Mans free-born Will, so shatters Them; that They
At present nor cohabite may
Without Regret, nor without Grief depart away.

XXXIV

Go, cheating World, that dancest ore thy Thorns;
Lov'st what undoes; hat'st what adorns:
Go, idolize thy Vice, and Virtue load with Scorns.

XXXV

Thy luscious Cup, more deadly then Asps Gall,
Empoys'neth Souls for Hell: Thou all
Times Mortalls dost enchant with thy delusive Call.

XXXVI

Who steals from Time, Time steals from him the Prey:
Pastimes passe Time, passe Heav'n away:
Few like the blessed Thief do steal Salvations Day.

XXXVII

Fools rifle Times rich Lott'rie: Who mispend
Lifes peerlesse Gemme, alive descend;
And Antidate with Stings their never-ending End.

XXXVIII

Whose vast Desires engrosse the boundlesse Land
By Fraud, or Force; Like Spiders stand,
Squeezing small Flies; Such are their Nets, & such their Hand.

XXXIX

When Nimrods Vulture-Talons par'd shall be,
Their Houses Name soon chang'd you'l see;
For their Bethesda shall be turn'd to Bethanie.

XL

Better destroy'd by Law, than rul'd by Will;
What Salves can cure, if Balsams kill?
That Good is worst that does degenerate to Ill.

XLI

Had not GOD left the Best within the Power
Of Persecutors, who devoure;
We had nor Martyrs had, nor yet a SAVIOUR.

XLII

Saints melt as Wax, Fools-clay grows hard at Cries
Of that scarce-breathing Corse, who lies
With dry Teeth, meager Cheeks, thin Maw, & hollow Eyes.

XLIII

GOD made Life; Give't to Man; By opening Veins,
Death's sluc'd out, and Pleuretick Pains:
Make GOD thy Pattern, Cure thy self, Alms are best gains.

XLIV

Heav'ns Glorie to atchieve, what scantling Span
Hath the frail Pilgrimage of Man!
Which sets, when risen; ends, when it but now began.

XLV

Who fight with outward Lusts, win inward Peace;
Judgements against Self-Judges cease:
Who face their Cloaks with Zeal do but their Woes increase.

XLVI

The Mighty, mighty Torments shall endure,
If impious: Hell admits no Cure.
The best Securitie is ne're to be secure.

XLVII

Oaks, that dare grapple with Heav'ns Thunder sink
All shiver'd; Coals that scorch do shrink
To Ashes; Vap'ring Snuffs expire in noysom Stink.

XLVIII

Time, strip the writhel'd Witch; Pluck the black Bags
From off Sins grizly Scalp; the Hags
Plague-sores shew then more loathsom than her leprous Rags.

XLIX

'Twas She slew guiltlesse Naboth; 'twas she curl'd
The painted Jezabel; she hurl'd
Realms from their Center; She unhing'd the new-fram'd World.

L

Blest then who shall her dash 'gainst Rocks; (her Grones,
Our Mirth) and wash the bloody Stones
With her own cursed Gore; repave them with her Bones.

LI

By Salique Law She should not reign: Storms swell
By her, which Halcyon Dayes dispell:
Nought's left that's good where she in Souls possest does dwell.

LII

'Twas her Excesse bred Plagues! Infecting Stars,
Infesting Dearth, Intestine Wars
Surfeit with Graves the Earth, 'mongst Living making Jars.

LIII

My Soul, enlabyrinth'd in Grief, spend Years
In Sackcloth, chamleted with Tears,
Retir'd to Rocks dark entrals, court unwitnest Fears.

LIV

There passe with Heraclite a gentler Age,
Free from the sad Account of Rage,
That acts the toilsome World on its tumultuous Stage.

LV

There sweet Religion strings, and tunes, and skrues
The Souls Theorb', and doth infuse
Grave Dorick Epods in th' Enthusiastick Muse.

LVI

There Love turns trumpets into Harps, which call
Off Sieges from the gun-shot Wall;
Alluring them to Heav'n, her Seat Imperial.

LVII

Thence came our Joy, and Thence Hymns eas'd our Grief;
Of which th' Angelical was chief;
Glory to GOD; Earth Peace; Good Will for Mans Relief.

LVIII

Quills, pluckt from Venus Doves, impresse but shame:
Then, give your Rimes to Vulcans Flame;
Hee'l elevate your badger Feet: He's free, though lame.

LIX

Things fall, and Nothings rise! Old Virtue fram'd
Honour for Wisdom: Wisdom fam'd
Old Virtue: Such Times were! Wealth then Arts Page was nam'd

LX

Lambeth was Oxfords Whetstone: Yet above
Preferments Pinnacle they move,
Who string the Universe, and bracelet It for Love.

LXI

Virtues magnifick Orb inflames their Zeal;
By high-rais'd Anthems Plagues they heal;
And threefork'd Thunders in Heavns outstretcht Arm repeal.

LXII

Shall Larks with shrill-chirpt Mattens rouze from Bed
Of curtain'd Night Sols orient Head?
And shall quick Souls lie numb'd, as wrapt in Sheets of Lead?

LXIII

Awake from slumbring Lethargie; The gay
And circling Charioter of Day,
In's Progress through the azure Fields sees, checks our Stay.

LXIV

Arise; and rising, emulate the rare
Industrious Spinsters, who with fair
Embroid'ries checker-work the Chambers of the Air

LXV

Ascend; Sol does on Hills his Gold display,
And, scatt'ring Sweets, does spice the Day,
And shoots delight through Nature with each arrow'd Ray.

LXVI

The Opal-colour'd Dawns raise Fancie high;
Hymns ravish those who Pulpets fly;
Convert dull Lead to active Gold by Love-chymie.

LXVII

As Natures prime Confectioner, the Bee,
By her Flow'r-nibling Chymistrie,
Turns Vert to Or: So, Verse gross Prose does rarifie.

LXVIII

Pow'rs cannot Poets, as They Pow'rs up-buoy;
Whose Soul-enliv'ning Charms Decoy
Each wrinkled Care to the Pacifick Sea of Joy.

LXIX

As, where from Jewels sparkling Lustre darts,
Those Rayes enstarre the duskie Parts:
So, Beams of Poesie give Light, Life, Soul to Arts.

LXX

Rich Poesie! Thy more irradiant Gems
Give Splendor unto Diadems,
And with coruscant Rayes emblazest Honours Stems.

LXXI

Thee Muse (Arts ambient Air, Inventions Door,
The Stage of Wits) both Rich and Poor
Do court.—A Prince may glory to become thy Wooer.

LXXII

Poets ly 'entomb'd by Kings. Arts Gums dispence;
By Rumination bruis'd, are thence
By Verse so fir'd, that their Perfume Enheav'ns the Sense.

LXXIII

Its The'ory makes All wiser, yet Few better;
Practise is Spirit, Art the Letter;
Use artlesse doth enlarge, Art uselesse does but fetter.

LXXIV

Sharp Sentences are Goads to make Deeds go;
Good Works are Males, Words Females show:
Whose Lives act Presidents, prevent the Laws, and Do.

LXXV

So far We know, as we obey GOD; and
He counts We leave not his Command,
When as our Interludes but 'twixt our Acts do stand.

LXXVI

Honours brave Soul is in that Body shrin'd,
Which floats not with each giddy Winde,
(Fickle as Courtly Dress) but Wisdoms Sea does find:

LXXVII

Steering by Graces Pole-star, which is fast
In th' Apostollick Zodiack plac't,
Whose Course at first four Evangelick Pilots trac't:

LXXVIII

The Theanthropick Word; That mystick Glasse
Of Revelations; That masse
Of Oracles; That Fu'el of Pray'r; That Wall of Brass;

LXXIX

That Print of Heav'n on Earth; That Mercies Treasure,
And Key; That Evidence, and Seisure;
Faiths Card, Hopes Anchor; Loves full Sail; Abyss of Pleasure.

LXXX

Such Saints high Tides n'ere ebbe so low, to shelf
Them on the Quicksand of their self-
Swallowing Corruption: Sin's the Wrack, They fly that Elf.

LXXXI

Gloomier than West of Death; than North of Night;
Than Nest of Triduan Blacks, with Fright
Which Egypt scar'd, when He brought Darkness, Who made Light.

LXXXII

Compar'd to whose Storm, thund'ring Peals are calm:
Compar'd to whose Sting, Asps yield Balm:
Compar'd to whose loath'd Charm, Death is a Mercy-Psalm.

LXXXIII

Her Snares escap'd, soar, Muse, to Him, whose bright
Spirit-illuminating Sight
Turns Damps to glorious Dayes; turns Fogs to radiant Light.

LXXXIV

Religion's Wisdoms Study; That display,
LORD, countermand what goes astray;
And smite the Ass (rude Flesh) when it does start or bray.

LXXXV

Soul, thou art lesse than Mercies least; Three ne're
Depart from Sin; Shame, Guilt, and Fear:
Fear, Shame, Guilt, Sin, are Four; Yet All in One appear.

LXXXVI

Crest-faln by Sin, how wretchedly I stray!
Me thinks 'tis Pride in me to pray:
Heav'n aid me strugling under this sad Load of Clay.

LXXXVII

No Man may merit, yet did One, we hold;
Who most do vant their Zeal, are cold:
Thus Tin for Silver goes with these, and Brasse for Gold.

LXXXVIII

Renew my Heart, direct my Tongue; unseal
My Hand, inspire my Faith, reveal
My Hope, encrease my Love, and my Backslidings heal!

LXXXIX

Let Language (Mans choice Glory) serve the Minde:
Thy Spirit on Bezaliel shin'd:
Help, Bloud, by Faith apply'd! Thy Spittle cur'd the Blinde.

XC

Turn Sense to Spirit; Nature's chang'd alone
By Grace; That is the Chymick-stone:
And thy all-pow'rful Word is pure Projection;

XCI

Truths Touchstone, surest Rule that ere was fra'md,
(Tradition, Mans dark Map, 's disclaim'd)
The Paper burns me not, yet I am all inflam'd:

XCII

For, as I read, such inward Splendor glowes;
Such Life-renewing Vigour flowes,
That All, what's known of thy most righteous Will, It showes:

XCIII

Whose Spells make Enochs walk with Thee; withhold
Corruption, and translate e're old:
All Vaticans are drosse; This, Magisterial Gold.

XCIV

Thus, poor numm'd Tartars, when th' are brought into
Warm Persias Gem-pav'd Court, are so
Reviv'd, that then They live; till then half dead wth Snow.

XCV

Good Thoughts from Thee infus'd I do derive;
Good Words effus'd Thou dost me give;
Good Works diffus'd by Thee, in Thee do live, & thrive.

XCVI

Nerve-stretching Muse, thy Bow's new strung; shoot then
Hymns to the BEST, from worst of Men;
Make Arts thy Tributaries, twist Heart, Tongue, & Pen.

XCVII

But how can Eves degenerate Issue, bent
To Sin, in its weak Measures vent.
Thy Praise? Unmeasurable! and Omnipotent!

XCVIII

Shrubs cannot Cedars, nor Wrens Eagles praise;
Nor purblinde Owls on Sols Orb gaze:
What is a drop to Seas, a Beam to boundlesse Raies?

XCIX

Yet Hope, and Love may raise my drooping Flight;
And Faith in Thee embeam my Night:
Great Love, supply Faiths Nerves, with winged Hope—i write.