Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Evill's the defect of Good, and as a shade,
That's but the ruines of the light decay'd:
It hath no being, nor is understood,
But by the opposition of Good.
What then is man? whose purest thoughts are prest
For Satans warre, which from the tender brest,

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With Infant silence, have consented to
Such sinfull Deeds, as (babes) they could not doe?
What then is man, but Nothing, being Evill,
His Lunatike affections doe unlevell,
What Heaven created by just Waight and measure;
In pleasures sinke, he takes a swinelike Pleasure;
His span of life, and beauties like a Flower,
Faire flourishing, and fading in an hower.
He breakes into the world with teares, and then
Departs with Griefe, not knowing how, nor when.
His life's a Bubble full of seeming Blisse,
The more it lengthens, the more short it is;
Begot in darknesse, he's brought forth, and cries
For succour, passes ore the stage, and dyes;
Yet, like a Moale, the earth he undermines,
Making the World, the Forge of his designes:
He plots, complots, foresees, prevents, directs,
Hee hopes, he feares, he doubts, pursues, effects;
Each hath his plot, each one his course doth bend,
Each hath his project, and each one his end.
Thus restlesse man doth still his soule molest
To finde out (that which hath no being) Rest;
Thus travels sinfull man in endlesse toyle;
Taking a pleasure in his owne turmoyle.
Fond man, first seeke to purchase that divine
And sacred prize, and all the world is thine:
Great Salomon made suit for Wisdome, and he found
Not (barely) Wisdome, but that Wisdome crown'd
With Diadems of wealth, and faire encrease
Of Princely Honour, with long dayes of Peace.

(With safe respect, and awfull reverence
To Myst'ries) Meditation doth commence
An earnest doubt: Was Iobs dispoiled Flock
Restored double: Was his former Stock

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Renew'd with double vantage? Did heaven adde
To all his fortunes double what he had?
Yet those sweet Emblemes of his dearest love,
(His sonnes) whom death untimely did remove
From off the face of the unthankfull earth,
Why likewise sprang not they in double birth?

Bruit beasts that perish once, are lost for ever,
Their substance, and their All consumes together.
Once having given a farewell to the light.
They dye, and with them is perpetuall night:
But man, (unorgan'd by the hand of Death)
Dyes not, is but transplanted from beneath,
Into a fairer soyle, or as a stranger,
Brought home secure from the worlds pleasing danger:
Iobs flocks were lost, and therefore double given,
His Issue's equall shar'd 'twixt Earth and Heaven,
One halfe in heav'n are glorious in their doome,
Ingag'd as Pledges till the other come.
Great God! my Time's but short, and long my way,
My Heart hath lost her Path, and gone astray,
My spirit's faint and fraile, my soule's imbost,
If thou helpe not, I am for ever lost;
Though Dust and Ashes, yet I am thy Creature,
Howe're my sinnes are great, thy Mercie's greater:
Of nothing didst thou make me, and my sinne
Hath turn'd me back to nothing, once agin:
Create me a new heart, (great God) inspire
My cold affections with thy sacred fire:

Instruct my Will, and rectifie my Wayes,
O teach me (Lord) to number out my Dayes.