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KOSMOBREVIA[Greek], or the infancy of the world

With an Appendix of Gods resting day, Edon Garden; Mans Happiness before, Misery after, his Fall. Whereunto is added, The Praise of Nothing; Divine Ejaculations; The four Ages of the world; The Birth of Christ; Also a Century of Historical Applications; With a Taste of Poetical fictions. Written some years since by N. B.[i.e. Nicholas Billingsley] ... And now published at the request of his Friends

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Sect. 9.

The Argument

Six dayes expir'd, the seaventh day
God rests, and doth his works survay.
Eden is planted, man in Eden
May tast all fruits, but one forbiden,
When the great Architect had furnish'd all
The upper Regions; and the lower Ball,
He ceased from his works, and sanctifi'd
Unto himself, for ever to abide.
The seaventh day his glory it invested,
And from his workes, his workes so great, he rested.

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The Lord of sabboths, hath this sabboth blest,
As a true Type of that eternal rest.
Kept in hav'ns blisfull Kingdome, to the praise
Of him that is the ancientest of dayes.
By his examples, he would have us doe
The like, and rest from wordly l'bour too.
This day of rest, our Saviour will come in
Unto our souls, if we let out our sin.
He sets wide ope, the portals, of his ears;
To entertaine, (a guests,) our praise, our prayers.
This day is Gods, oh let us then adore him,
And in his reverence, fall downe before him;
That so we may here after be posses'd
Of that true Sabboth, that eternal rest,
Prepar'd for saints, and joyfull Requiems sing,
Before our great, and everlasting King.
Six dayes are freely ours, but one, in seaven,
Is chaleng'd as a holy-day, by heaven;
And yet how little of that day we spend
Upon the service of so great a freind!
Alas! alas! how apt are we to think
That God beholds not, and his eyes do wink
At our neglects; but patience abus'd
Turnes fury: ah! can, can we be excus'd,
That thus transgress? no we have cause to feare,
This leeden sect, Gods iron hands are neare.

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Within the radient borders of the East,
Where early Titan as a welcome guest
Findes entertainment, God a garden planted
For Man's sole use, wherin there nothing wanted
To make it truly glorious, in it, he
The worlds abrig'd Epitomie might see;
Unfathom'd love spontaneously bestowing
A paradise with milk and honey flowing:
Upon a man, an animated Clod
Must needs advance the goodness of our God.
Here is the true Elizium indeed,
Whose choyce variety of objects seed
The greedy eye; seest here a divers hieu,
Crimson, Carnation, Green, and joyfull blew.
This soyle bears fruit, all seasons in the yeare,
You cannot name the thing, but what is there.
See here coole Arbors, mark how bubbling Brooks
Do gently glide along in winding nooks:
Here's speckled ammel beautifies the ground:
And heav'n sent Manna, ev'ry morn is found.
The pretty birds (by nature taught) doe sing
Melodious notes, to their mellifluous King.
How fragrantly life-breathing Ziphyr blowes
His sweet-heart Flora, gen'rously bestrowes
The smiling Earth, with oderiferous flowers,
'Gainst Adam's wedding; pearly-dropping showers

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Enrich the grass; without the help of ploughs
Tellus partutiates; on the laden boughs
The mellow fruits do dangle, and do stand
Ambitious (as it were) to kiss the hand.
O what a lovely lustre doth adorn
The balmy air! the Amalthean horn
Is giv'n to Adam (not to Hercules)
Gemifluous Phiton, golden Euphrates
Silver-wav'd Hiddekel, Christal-ey'd Gibon,
Water this heav'nly earth, this earthly Sion.
Cloath'd are the Trees in green; the stately Pine,
And tow'ring Cedar, lovingly combine,
A Bow'r with bending arches to compose:
The shame fac'd Lilly, and the red-cheek'd Rose,
Strive for priority: how all things smile
And e'ne luxuriate! Oh delightful soile!
Amongst the trees wherewith th'Eternal grac'd
This prime plantation, in the midst he plac'd
Two speciall trees (both inordain'd for food,
But seals the one of life, of knowledg good
And evil was the second; to th'intent
That Adam's life should not be idly spent
Trine-une Jehovah did his steps direct
To this blest Bow'r, and spake to this effect.
Of all the trees that in the Orchard be
I set them for thy use, one only tree

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Shall be my rent; that tree thou shalt not tast,
Which in the center of the garden's plac'd
The rest are freely thine, by my permission,
Rent-free: but yet on an imply'd condition:
What I injoyne be studious to fulfill,
Touch not the tree of knowledg, good, and ill;
For by my sacred majesty, I vow,
And by my venerable name, if thou
Break but thy Lease, “thy very lips that shall
“Let in this fruit, shall let in death withal.
But if thou please me well, this tree shal be
A sacred pledg between thy God, and thee.
My Vice-Roy shalt thou be, thy seed I'le bless,
Thy seed for ever shal the land possess.
Be thou obsequious thou shalt finde me mild,
I'le be thy father, thou shalt be my child.
He said no more: Adam did then express
His loyal duty, and his thankfulness.
Glorious, and great, who hast instal'd me King
Of this vast Orb, and Lord of ev'ry thing
Within its larg dementions: Gratious Lord
Thou gav'st me all, nay of thine owne accord.
Ah Lord! what merrit? what desarts in me
(To claime such high-bred favours couldst thou see)
O bounteous love! oh love that is extended
Beyond al bounds! O love uncomprehanded!

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Ah! shall thy mercyes overflow my banks?
And shall I ebb, in the returnes of thanks?
Thou giv'st me life, and rare enjoyments too,
To tell them out is more then I can do.
And shall I not acknowledg thee? ah! sure
No senseless stone can e're be so obdure.
Take partial thanks, for as for to express
Love to the life I cannot, I confess:
Accept my mite, to praise I will persever
Thine holy name, for ever, and for ever
Ah! far be it from me to countermind
What thou prohibit'st: shall thy lib'ral hand
Heap blessings on me? thou afford'st me all,
Thy selfe reserv'st but one, and shall I fail
To keep from thee thy right? shall my transgression
Displease the Land-lord of my free possession.
O no, I will obey, one onley Tree
Shall put no varience 'twixt my God and me.
Should I attempt so foul a fact, I were not
Worthy to live; might then Gods justice spare not
To vulnerate my soul, Oh might I feele
Th'imprinted strakes of his revengeful steele.
Great God! Oh may I rather cease to be,
Then live t'offend, so good a God as thee?
The Sun shall sooner cease, for to display
On tender plants, his bright enlivning Ray:

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Sooner shall sun-burnt India grow cold,
And Icy Zealand hot, and heav'ns grow old.
E're I from my first principles retreat,
And disobey my God, so good, so great.
Thus Adam liv'd in favour with the Lord,
Enjoying all the joyes earth could afford.
On while he walks along the bordred Alleys,
Now up the hillocks, down anon, the valleys,
And now by whisp'ring Brooks, takes sweet reposes
On beds of Lillies, and anon on Roses.