University of Virginia Library

ELYSIUM.

You that delight in painted meads,
In silver brooks, in cooling shades,
In dancing, feasts, harmonious layes,
In Chrystall springs, and groves of bayes:
Draw neer, and I will let you see
A Tempe full of majesty,
Where neither white-hair'd Boreas snows,
Nor black-wing'd Auster ever blows;
But sweet-breath'd Zephyr still doth curl
The meads, and purest streams here purl
From silver springs which glide upon
Rich Pearl, and Orientall stone:
Here on the banks of Rivers grows
Each fruitfull tree, here Laurell groves
Ne're fade; here's a perpetuall spring,
With Nightingales the woods still ring:
Meads flourish here continually
In their sweet smelling Tapestry;
The Pink, the gilded Daffadilly,
The shame-fac'd Rose, the white cheek'd Lilly;
The Violet, the Columbine,
The Marigold, the Eglantine,
Rosemary, Time, and Gilli-flowers,
Grow without help of Sun or showers.
Vines still bear purple clusters here,
New wine aboundeth all the yeer.
The ground exhales that pleasant smell
Which doth all earthly sents excell,
And this place of it's own accord
Doth all these benefits afford:
There needs no husbandmen to toil,
And labour in this happy soil;
Rage, tyranny, oppression,
Fraud, malice, and ambition,
And avarice here are not known,
And coals of discord are not blown,
But in this blessed mansion
Dwels perfect love and union.
Here are no cares, nor fears, nor death,
Nor any pestilentiall breath
Which may infect that wholsom air,
But here's continuall dainty fare;
Ambrosia here on trees doth grow,
And cups with Nectar overflow;
Tables with flowry carpets spread,
Are still most richly furnished;
Drums, Trumpets, Canons roaring sounds
Are never heard within these bounds;
But sacred Songs, and Jubilees,
Timbrels, Organs, and Psalteries,
Sackbuts, Violins, and Flutes,
Harps, silver Symbals, solemn Lutes;
All these in one joyn'd harmony,
With Hallelujah's pierce the sky.
Here's neither night nor gloomy cloud
Which can that world in darknesse shroud;
But there's an everlasting day
Which knows no evening, or decay:
There shines a Sun, whose glorious fire
Shall not with length of time expire;
And who shall never set or fall
In Neptunes azure glassie hall.
Here are no birds or beasts of prey,
Here is no sicknesse nor decay,
Nor sorrow, hunger, infamy,
Nor want, nor any misery;
Nor silver-headed age, which bows
The back, and furrows up the brows:
But here's the ever-smiling prime,
Of youth, which shall not fade with time.
Mirth, plenty, glory, beauty, grace
And holinesse dwell in this place.
Such joys as yet hath never been
By mortals either heard or seen.
What tongue is able to rehearse,
What Muse can sing, or paint in verse
This place, to which all earthly joys
Compared, are but fading toys.
Sure, if I had a voice as shrill
As thunder, or had I a quill
Pluck't from an Angels pinion;
And if all tongues were joyn'd in one;
Yet could they not sufficiently
Expresse this places dignity:
Which golden feather'd Cherubims,
And fire-dispersing Seraphims
Have circled with their radiant wings,
To keep away all hurtfull things.
O thou whose glory ne'r decayes,
When these my short and evil dayes
Are vanish'd like a dream or shade,
Or like the grasse, and flowers that fade;
Lord let my soul have then accesse
Unto that endlesse happinesse,
Where thy blest saints with warbling tongues
Are chanting still celestiall songs;
Where winged quiresters thy praise
Still Caroll forth with heavenly layes:
When shall my bondage Lord expire,
That I may to that place retire?
When shall I end this pilgrimage?
When wilt thou ope this fleshly cage,
This prison, and this house of clay,
That hence my soul may fly away?
Untye the chains, with which so fast
I'm bound, and make me free at last;
And draw aside this Canopie
Which keeps me from the sight of thee;
Lord let me first see thee by grace
Here; then, hereafter face to face.