Poemata sacra | ||
9
A meditation upon Eternitie.
Methought I had a Clepsydra so wide,
It held the ocean in his proudest tide:
I still'd by teares, by drops, this watrie main;
Yet I was glad to fill my glasse again.
It held the ocean in his proudest tide:
I still'd by teares, by drops, this watrie main;
Yet I was glad to fill my glasse again.
Then all the sands, all atomes of the aire
I did imprison in a glasse: with care
I let the dusty minutes single passe
To the last atome; yet I turn'd the glasse.
I did imprison in a glasse: with care
I let the dusty minutes single passe
To the last atome; yet I turn'd the glasse.
Methought I had a clock hung at a starre:
My fancie spun the lines, the plummets were
Ty'd too, which reacht the centre that low stop;
Yet these runne down: again I wound them up.
My fancie spun the lines, the plummets were
Ty'd too, which reacht the centre that low stop;
Yet these runne down: again I wound them up.
Then when I saw Eternitie outgo
My clock, my glasse scorn'd to be measur'd so;
I spy'd an Angel hover, and did crie
To him, What's this you style Eternitie?
My clock, my glasse scorn'd to be measur'd so;
I spy'd an Angel hover, and did crie
To him, What's this you style Eternitie?
He spoke thus in his momentanie stay,
Go pluck from time his winged Yesterday
And his To morrow. Then I askt him, How
Call you it? So he answer'd me, A now.
Go pluck from time his winged Yesterday
And his To morrow. Then I askt him, How
Call you it? So he answer'd me, A now.
Then shew'd a
circle uniform and round,
And pointed to a chair set on the ground.
I weary with enquiries, thought me blest,
Sat in this embleme of eternall rest.
And pointed to a chair set on the ground.
I weary with enquiries, thought me blest,
Sat in this embleme of eternall rest.
Poemata sacra | ||