A paraphrase upon the canticles and some select hymns of the New and Old Testament, with other occasional compositions in English verse. By Samuel Woodford |
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![]() | III. |
![]() | IV. |
![]() | V. |
![]() | VI. |
![]() | VII. |
![]() | VIII. | VIII. CATASTROPHE. |
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![]() | A paraphrase upon the canticles | ![]() |
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VIII. CATASTROPHE.
SPONSA. CHORUS Gentium. SPONSUS.SPONSA.
Quis mihi det te Fratrem meum?
Sponsa.
I love, but cannot yet my LOVE injoy,
Ah! Love that Thou should'st have so much alloy!
Still some nice thing to interrupt Our bliss,
Something to fault, which yet we would not miss!
This as I think, I wish Thou wert my BROTHER,
Thou my Soul loves, the Son of my own Mother:
How would I 'embrace Thee then, and kiss thine Eyes,
Where e're I meet Thee, safe from base surmize!
Home would I lead Thee to my Mothers House,
And, by her taught, the happy Moment use;
Talk o're our Loves, fill, fill the Wine,
The spicy blood of th' Pomgranate and Vine.
Satiate with which, Thou should'st thy Left-hand place
Under my Head, whole me with the' right embrace.
'Tis done, and see he sleeps—
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Who are, and to your selves more glorious seem,
In our attendance, than your own bright Stem,
By the Hills, and by the Launs,
By the Roes, and by the Fauns,
By the Fields, and by the Woods,
By the Springs, and by the Floods,
All that I or you count dear,
All he loves, and all I fear:
I charge you, I charge you not to awake
My LOVE, from the rest, which now he does take,
Till himself pleases the signal to make!
CHORUS Gentium.
Quæ est ista, quæ ascendit de deserto?
Chorus.
What fair One's that (but words can ne'er express
How fair she is) who from the Wilderness,
Leaning on her BELOVED's Arm ascends,
And hitherward their amo'rous Journey tends.
They 'are come, and now approach't so near,
That wer't not rudeness, we their privacies may hear.
SPONSUS.
Sub arbore malo suscitavi te.
Sponsus.
—There 'twas, under the Apple-Tree,
Where first I found, and first rais'd Thee.
Thy Mother there her Fruit disclos'd,
And there thou first didst lie expos'd,
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Led to Thy rescue, by my first Loves purest flame.
SPONSA.
Pone me ut signaculum super Cor.
Sponsa.
Blest, ever blessed be that Day.
When thus Thou cam'est, and thus I lay!
O let us never, never part,
But make me' a Seal upon Thy Heart!
A Badg Thou on Thy Arm mayst wear,
That where Thou art, I may be there,
And never, never from Thee part,
But always on, or next Thy Heart!
“For love, (And who loves more than I?)
“Stronger than Death, does Death defie.
“His Conquests like the Graves, extend,
“And further, up to Heav'n his flames ascend.
“But never was there such a Flame,
“As that, in which to me he came;
“So dreadful, scorching, and so bright,
“I blest, but trembled at the sight.
“A Fire; Love was himself that Fire,
“Which in no Waters will expire:
“But, eve'n in Floods, securely lives,
“And all their watry threats survives.
“Nor quench, nor drown it can the Flood,
“Nor buy it, all the seeming good
“This World, that mighty Chapman, boasts
“In his vast Traffique through all Coasts.
“For so invaluable is its price,
“And its exchange so monstrous high does rise,
“The Universe too little is for 'its Merchandise.
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CHORUS Gentium, &c.
Soror nostra parva & ubera non habet.
Chorus.
A LITTLE Sister yet we have,
For whom we'd Loves assistance crave.
Young, and little, though she 'is yet,
And her Brest not fully set,
Tho as yet no Breasts she has,
Grow our Sister does apace.
But if thus high Loves price does go,
What shall we for our little Sister do,
When the time comes, that we should her bestow?
SPONSUS.
Si murus est ædificemus super.
Sponsus.
If, when grown up, your Sister prove a Wall,
We'll on her build a Silver Arcenal;
Defence, and Ornament we'll to her give,
And all her Stones shall, as ith' Quarry, live.
If, when grown up, your Sister prove a Door,
With Cedar mouldings we will case her o're;
With Freeze, and Cornice all her Pillars crown,
And to her sacred Glories add our own.
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SPONSA.
Ego Murus & ubera mea sicut Turris.
Sponsa.
But I'm a Wall, and my soft Brests full grown,
Like Towers, upon the subject Camp look down.
My constancy to guard the Fort does stand,
And dares the rudest Shock, of th' roughest Hand.
This as my WELL-BELOVED heard me say,
The Holy Boast he did approve;
And in his Eyes I found such grace that Day,
I dare no longer doubt his Love.
SPONSUS.
Vinea fuit Pacifico in ea, &c.
Sponsus.
I have a Vineyard, so has Salomon;
His at a distance lies, in Baal-hannon,
To Keepers, and to Under-Keepers set,
And Yearly, for a thousand pieces let.
But mine, the Vineyard that's my own, does lie
In my own care, and ever in my Eye.
Accountable for 'its Fruits to me alone,
And sharers in them, with me, have I none.
His at a distance lies, in Baal-hannon,
To Keepers, and to Under-Keepers set,
And Yearly, for a thousand pieces let.
But mine, the Vineyard that's my own, does lie
In my own care, and ever in my Eye.
Accountable for 'its Fruits to me alone,
And sharers in them, with me, have I none.
Compare we now our Vineyards, peaceful King!
Which does to 'its Lord the greatest Profit bring?
Thine for a thousand Pieces yields its store;
Admit it do; 'tis worth two hundred more,
But these the Keepers have: Mine is my own,
Accountable for' its Fruits to me alone,
(As for its care) and sharers have I none.
Which does to 'its Lord the greatest Profit bring?
Thine for a thousand Pieces yields its store;
Admit it do; 'tis worth two hundred more,
But these the Keepers have: Mine is my own,
Accountable for' its Fruits to me alone,
(As for its care) and sharers have I none.
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Thou art that Vineyard, Love, my Vineyard Thou,
Who in the Flowry Gardens dwellest low;
Low, but with all the Stars of th' Garden crown'd,
And Thy Companions sitting Thee around,
Attent, and listning to Thy tuneful Voice;
O, make me hear it, and fulfil my Joys!
Who in the Flowry Gardens dwellest low;
Low, but with all the Stars of th' Garden crown'd,
And Thy Companions sitting Thee around,
Attent, and listning to Thy tuneful Voice;
O, make me hear it, and fulfil my Joys!
SPONSA.
Fuge Dilecte mi & assimilare, &c.
Sponsa.
And so Thou shalt—
—LOVE, bring the Day,
Haste it, LOVE, and come away!
On th' Spicy Mountain tops appear,
Swift as the fleet-wing footed Deer!
And driving thence the baleful Night,
On th' Spicy Mountains shed Thy Light,
Fleet as their heels, and than their Horns more bright!
Veni Domine, JESU, Veni citò.
SOLI DEO GLORIA.
Cujus Amore inflammato corde hæc cecini,
Inscius licet, & indignus: Suscipe laudes
Famuli tui. Amen.
Apud Hartley Maudet. Com. Southton, in Vigiliâ Ascensionis. MDCLXXVII.
![]() | A paraphrase upon the canticles | ![]() |