Theophila :: :: University of Virginia Library

Sourse, River, Ocean of all Blisse, instill
Spring-tides into my low-ebb'd Quill:
Each graceful Work flowes from (what works all Grace) Thy Will.

III

LORD! Thou, before Time, Matter, Form, or Place,
Wast All; E're Natures mortal Race:
Thy Self, Host, Guest, and Palace, Natures total Space.

IV

When yet (though not discern'd) in that Abysse
Creator, Word, and Spirit of Blisse,
In Unity the Trine, one GOD, adored is.

V

E're Thou the Chrystal-mantled Heav'n didst rear,
Or did the Earth, Sols Bride, appear,
First Race of Intellectuals mad'st, Thee to revere.

VI

Praise best doth Inexpressibles expresse:
Soul, Th' Architect of Wonders blesse;
Whose All-creating Word embirth'd a Nothingnesse.

VII

Who brooding on the Deep, Production
Dispos'd, then call'd out Light, which on
The formless Worlds rude Face was all dispers'dly thrown.

VIII

When callow Nature, pluckt from out her Nest
Of Causes, was awak'd from Rest,
Her shapeless Lump with fledg'd effects He trimly drest.

IX

Then new-born Day He gilt with glittering Sun
(Contracted Light); with changing Moon
He Night adorn'd, and hung up Lamps, like spangled Bullion.

X

The Earth, with Water mixt, He separates:
Earth Plants brought forth, and Beasts All Mates;
The Waters Fowl, and Fish to yield Man delicates.

XI

Then did of th' El'ements Dust Mans Bodie frame
A perfect Microcosm, the Same
He quickned with a sparkle of Pneumatick Flame.

XII

More Heav'nly specify'd by Life from th' Word;
That, Nature doth, This, Grace afford;
And Glory from the Spirit design'd, as threefold Cord.

XIII

Man, ere a Childe; by Infusion wise; though He
Was of, yet not for Earth, though free
Chanc'lour install'd of Edens Universitie.

XIV

His Virgin-Sister-Wife i'th Grove He woo'd,
(Heav'ns Nursery); new Fruit his Food,
Skin was his Robe: Clouds washt, Winds swept his Floor. All good.

XV

Envie, that GOD should so love Man, first mov'd
Satan, to ruine Heav'ns Belov'd:
The Serpent Devil'd Eve, She's Dam to Adam prov'd.

XVI

Both taste, by tasting, tastlesse Both became;
Who All would know, knew nought but Shame:
They blush for That which They, when righteous, could not name.

XVII

Still in our Maw that Apples Core doth stick,
Which they did swallow, and the thick
Rinde of forbidden Fruit has left our Nature sick.

XVIII

Now serves our Guiltiness, as winding Sheet,
To wrap up Lepers; Cover meet;
While thus stern Vengeance does our Wormships sadly greet.

XIX

Disloyal Slaves, look out, see, Mischief revels;
Look in, see your own Denne of Evils;
Look up; see Heav'ns dread Judge; Look down, see Hells fierce Devils.

XX

Created in GODS Image to look high;
Corrupted, like to Brutes, you lie:
Perdition's from your selves: No Cure for those will die.

XXI

Your Beautie, Rottenness skin'd o're, does show
Like to a Dunghill, blancht with Snow,
Your glorious Nature's by embasing Sin brought low.

XXII

Hence you the heavy Doom of Death do gain,
Enforc'd unto laborious Pain;
And th' Angels flaming Sword doth you, expuls'd, restrain.

XXIII

Thus She reproacht; Yet more (alas) remain'd;
Mans Issue in his Loins is staind:
Sin set his Throne in Him, and since o're all has reign'd.

XXIV

Black Sin! more hideous then green Dragons Claws,
Dun Gryphons Talons, swart Bears Paws,
Then checquer'd Panthers Teeth, or tawnie Lions Jaws.

XXV

Forfeit to the Creator's thus Mans Race,
And by the Word withdrawn is Grace,
From him the Spirit of Glory turn'd his pleasing Face.

XXVI

Yet that this Second Race, in fallen Plight,
Might not with th' First be ruin'd quite,
The Word doth interpose to stop th' incensed Might.

XXVII

Then undertakes for Man to satisfie,
And the sad losse of Grace supply,
That us He might advance to Glories Hierarchie.

XXVIII

Then Peace is preacht ith' Womans Seed; but then
As Men increase; So, Sins of Men,
And Actual on Original heapt, GOD's vext agen.

XXIX

Till drencht they were in Deluge, had no Shore;
And burnt in Sodom-Flames, of yore;
Plagued in Egypt, plung'd into the Gulf of Core.

XXX

And gnawn by Worms in Herod: Sin's Asps Womb,
Plotter, Thief, Plaintiff, Witnesse, Doom,
Sledge, Executioner, Hells Inmate, Horrors Tomb.

XXXI

Misgotten Brat! thy Trains are infinite
To ruine each intangled Wight:
Mischiefs nere rest in Men, th' have everlasting Spite.

XXXII

Spite wageth War, then War turns Law to Lust;
Lust crumbles Faith into Distrust;
Distrust by causelesse Jealousie betrayes the Just;

XXXIII

The Just are plunder'd by thy Rage; thy Rage
Bubbleth from Envie; Envie's Page
To thy Misdeeds; Misdeeds their own Misfate engage.

XXXIV

Thus linkt to Hell's thy Chain! Curs'd be that Need
Makes Sinners in their Sins proceed:
Shame, to Guilts forlorn Hope, leads left-hand Files.—Take heed.

XXXV

GODS Fort (the Conscience) in the worst does stand;
Though Sin the Town keeps by strong Hand,
Yet lies it open to the Check at Heav'ns Command.

XXXVI

Hence Hell surrounds them: In their Dreams to fall
Headlong they seem, then start, groan, crawl
From Furies, with excessive Frights which them appal.

XXXVII

Ne're was more Mischief, ne're was less Remorse;
Never Revenge on his black Horse
Did swifter ride; Never to GOD so slow Recourse!

XXXVIII

The Age-bow'd Earth groans under Sinners Weight;
While guiltlesse Blood cries to Heav'ns Height,
Justice soon takes th' Alarm, whose steeled Arm will smite.

XXXIX

Inevitable Woes a while may stay,
Vengeance is GODS, Who will repay
The desperately Wilfull, nor will long delay.

XL

'Tis darkest neer Day-break. He will o'return
Th' Implacable, who Mercie spurn;
Superlative Abuses in th' Abysse shall burn.

XLI

Deaths Hell Deaths Self out-deaths! Vindictive Place!
Deep under Depths! Excentrick Space!
Horrour It self, than Thee, wears a lesse horrid Face!

XLII

Where Pride, Lust, Rage, (Sin treble-pointed) dwell;
Shackled in red-hot Chains they yell
In bottomlesse Extreams of never-slaking Hell!

XLIII

Riddle! Compell'd, at once, to live and die!
Frying they freez, and freezing frie!
On helplesse, hopelesse, easelesse, endlesse Racks they lie!

XLIV

And rave for what they hate! Cursing in vain,
Yet each Curse is a Pray'r for Pain,
For, cursing still their Woe, they woo GODS Curse again!

XLV

Devils and Shreeks their Ears, their Eyes affright!
There's blazing Fire, yet darkest Night!
Still paying, ne're discharg'd. Sins Debt is Infinite!

XLVI

Angels by one Sin fell; So, Man: How then
May Sinners stand! Let's quit Sins Den:
This Moment's Ours; Life hasts away; Delayes gangrene.

XLVII

Conviction ushers Grace; Fall to prevent
Thy Fall, Times Fore-lock take; Relent.
Shall is to come; and Was is past; then, Now repent.

XLVIII

Before the Suns long Shadows span up Night;
E're on thy shaking Head Snowes light;
E're round thy palsy'd Heart Ice be congealed quite;

XLIX

E're in thy Pocket thou thine Eyes dost wear;
E're thy Bones serve for Calender;
E're in thy Hand's thy Leg, or Silver in thy Hair;

L

Preventing Physick use. Think, now ye hear
The Dead-awakening Trump; Lo, there
The queazie-stomackt Graves disgorge Worms fatning Chear.

LI

Sins Sergeants wait t' attach you; Then, make haste,
Lest you into Despair be cast:
The JUDGE unsway'd: Take Dayes at best, count each your Last.

LII

Time posts on loose-rein'd Steeds. The Sun ere't face
To West, may see Thee end thy Race:
Death is a Noun, yet not declin'd in any Case.

LIII

The Cradle's nigh the Tomb. That Soul has Woe,
Whose drowzie March to Heav'n is slow,
As drawling Snails, whose slime glues them to Things below.

LIV

Anathema to luke-warm Souls.—Lo, here
Theophila's unhing'd with Fear,
Clamm'd with chill sweat, when as her ranckling Sins appear.

LV

Perplext in Crimes meandring Maze, GODS Law,
And Guilt, that does strict Judgement draw,
And her too carnal, yet too stonie Heart She saw.

LVI

Yet Rocks may cleave (she cries.) Then, weeps for Tears,
And grieves for Grief; fears want of Fears;
She Hell, Heav'ns Prison, views; Distress, for Robe, She wears.

LVII

Deprav'd by Vice, depriv'd of Grace; with Pray'r,
She runs Faiths Course; breaks through Despair,
O'retakes Hope. Broken Legs by setting stronger are.

LVIII

Shame, native Conscience, views That Holy One,
Who came from GOD to Man undone,
Whose Birth produc'd a Star, Whose Death eclips't the Sun.

LIX

She sees Earth-Heav'n, Flesh-Spirit, Man-God in Stamp
Of Him, who shakes, but does not cramp
The bruised Reed; Snuffs puts not out the sputtring Lamp.

LX

She sees for Creatures the Creator came
To die; The Shepherd prov'd the Lamb
For Sacrifice, when Jews releas'd a spotted Ram.

LXI

She sees defamed Glory, wronged Right,
Debased Majestie, crusht Might,
Virtue condemn'd, Peace robb'd, Love slain! And All by Spite.

LXII

She, streaming, sees, like Spouts, each broached Vein
With Gore, not to be matcht again!
Her Grief thence draws up Mysts to fall in weeping Rain.

LXIII

Vast Cares, long dumb, thus vent. Flow Tears, Souls Wine,
Juice of an Heart opprest; Encline,
LORD, to this heart-broke Altar cemented with Brine!

LXIV

Remorsefull Clouds, dissolve in Showr's; 'Tis Blood
Turns rocky Hearts into a Flood:
Eyes, keep your Sluces ope; Heav'n best by Tears is woo'd.

LXV

Thou, Who one Shoarless Sea of All did'st make,
Except one floating Isle, to take
Vengeance on Guilt; My Salt Flood rais'd, drown Sin i'th' Lake.

LXVI

O, how these Words, Arise to Judgement quell!
On Wheels in Torments broke I'd dwell,
So as by Grace I might be sav'd from endlesse Hell.

LXVII

To Angel-Intercessor, I'm forbid
To pray; Yet pray to One that did
Pray to Another for Himself when's Blood-drops slid.

LXVIII

Father! Perfections Self in CHRIST does shine;
Thy Justice then in Him confine;
Through's Merits, make thy Mercies, both are endless, mine!

LXIX

See not, but through's abstersive Blood, my Sin;
By which I being cleans'd within,
Adde Perseverance. 'Tis as hard to hold, as win.

LXX

Her Eyes are Centinels to Pray'r, to Moans
Her Ears, her Nose courts Charnel-bones;
Her Hands Breast-hammers are, her constant Food is Groans.

LXXI

Her Heart is hung with Blacks, with Dust she cloyes
Her golden Tresses; Weds Annoyes,
Breeds Sighs, bears Grief, which, Ibis-like, Sin-snakes destroyes.

LXXII

Thus mounts she drizling Olivet; the Plains
Of Jericho she leaves. (While Rains
The Farmer wet, they fully swell his earing Graines.)

LXXIII

She, her own Farmer, stockt from Heav'n, is bent
To thrive; Care 'bout the Pay-day's spent.
Stange! She alone is Farmer, Farm, and Stock, and Rent.

LXXIV

The Porcupine so's Quiver, Bow, and Darts
To' herself alone; has all Wars Arts;
Her own Artillery needs no Aid from forreign Parts.

LXXV

Sad Votaresse! thy Earth, of late oregrown
With Weeds, is plough'd, till'd harrow'd, sown.
The Seed of Grace sprouts up when Nature is kept down.

LXXVI

Thy Glebe is melow'd with Faith-quickning Juice;
The Furrows thence Hope-blades produce;
Thy Valley cloth'd with Love will Harvest Joyes diffuse.

LXXVII

Live, Phenix, from Self-death. I'th' Morn who dies
To Sin, does but immortalize:
Who studie Death, ere dead, ere th' Resurrection rise.

LXXVIII

Rachel! thy Children Goal and Crown have won,
Ere they had Skill or Will to run.
Blest, who their whole Dayes Work in their Lifes Morn have done.

LXXIX

Like misty Morn, She rose in Dew; so found
She ne're was, till this Sicknesse, sound;
Till Sin, in Sorrows flowing Issue (Tears) lay drownd.

LXXX

Souls Life-blood Tears, prevailing Pleaders, tame
Such Rebels, as by Eve did shame
Mans Glory; only These the old faln World new frame.

LXXXI

Lust causeth Sin, Sin Shame, Shame bids repent,
Repentance weeps, Tears Sorrow vent,
Sorrow shews Faith, Faith Hope, Hope Love, Love Souls Content.

LXXXII

Thus, from bruis'd Spiceries of her Breast, doth rise
Incense, sweet-smelling Sacrifice:
Whilst she lifts up to Heav'n, her Heart, her Hand, her Eyes.

LXXXIII

I'm sick with trembling, sunk with mourning, blasted
With sinning, and with sighing wasted;
New Life begins to breath; O, Joy, too long untasted!

LXXXIV

Twice did'st new Life (by Breath, by Death) bestow
On Man prevaricating, Who,
By yielding to a Woman, made Man yield to Woe.

LXXXV

Then did'st his Soul restore (as first inspire)
With second Grace, renewing Fire;
Whence He hath part again in thy Cœlestial Quire.

LXXXVI

Once more for this Heav'n-Denison did'st get
A never-fading Coronet,
Which was with two bright Jewels, Grace and Glory, set.

LXXXVII

'Twas at my bloud-stain'd Birth Thy Love said, Live:
Links of Thy prævious Chain revive
Ev'n crumbled Dust: So, Thou my Soul from Death reprive!

LXXXVIII

CHRIST, Th' Unction art, Salvation JESUS; in
Thy Death Redemption, Blood for Sin
Gives Satisfaction, Thy Ascension Hope does winne;

LXXXIX

Thy Session Comfort. Though I did offend,
LORD, Fears disband, give Grace t' amend,
That, Hope, which reaps not shame, may rise, & Peace descend.

XC

My Pardon signe. The Spear pierct Thee's the Pen,
Thy Bloud the Ink, Thy Gospel then
The Standish is, O, let my Soul be Paper clean!

XCI

Kinde, angry LORD, since Thou dost wound, yet cure;
I'l bear the Yoak, the Crosse endure;
Lament, and Love; and, when set free, keep Conscience pure.

XCII

Thus mourns she, and, in mourning thus, she joyes;
Ev'n that adds Comfort, which annoyes;
Sighs turn to Songs, & Tears to Wine, Fear Fear destroies.

XCIII

As holy Flame did from her Heart arise,
Dropt holy Water from her Eyes,
While Pray'r her Incense was, & Love her Sacrifice.

XCIV

Arm! Arm! She breaks in with strong Zeal; The Place.
Sin quitts, now garison'd by Grace;
Illustrious Triumphs do the Steps of Victors trace.

XCV

When the loud Volleyes of her Pray'rs begin
To make a Breach, they soon take in
The Parapets, Redouts, and Counterscarps of Sin.

XCVI

At once she works and fights: With Lamp she waits,
Midst Virgins, at the Bridegrooms Gates,
With Him to feast; Her with his Bridal Delicates.

XCVII

To Heav'n now goes she on her Knees; which cry
Loud, as her Tongue; much speaks her Eye:
Heav'n, storm'd by Violence, yields. Eyes, Tongue, and Knees scale high.

XCVIII

My Last crave Pardon for my First Extreams;
Be prais'd, who crown'st my Morn with Beams;
Converted Age sees Visions, erring Youth dreamt Dreams.

XCIX

Religion's its own Lustre; Who This shun,
Night-founder'd grope at midday Sun.
Rebellion is its own self-tort'ring Dungeon.

C

Mans restlesse Minde, GODS Image, can't be blest
Till of this One, This All, possest.
Thou our Souls Center art, our everlasting REST!