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 | Miscellaneous works of George Wither |  |
Thus I have added some few Ballads more
To those, which my Deriders heretofore
Have scoffingly so call'd: and, though I please
To sing Defiance in such words as these,
To make them somewhat wiser (if I might)
Who are yet wise, but in their own conceit)
'Tis no revengeful or malitious scorn,
Which back upon my scorners I return.
My Jollities, my Caprings and Advances,
Are not like those you see in Morrice-Dances;
Nor is my mirth like their, who chear their souls
With Musick, Banquets, and o'erflowing Bowls:
'Tis no meer outward or corporeal sense
Of Pleasures or Immunities, from whence
My Joys do spring: nor are they such as their,
Who by long Suff'ring stupified are:
(For, few men living, of all Humane passions,
Have deeper sense, or of their Aggravations)
But, my Exultings flow from apprehension
Of that, whereto my Faith hath an extension;
And of those Objects which I make those ends
To which my actings and my suff'ring tends,
As doth a wounded Conquerour, who cries,
Courage, my Mates, the day is ours; then dies:
Or rather, like a Martyr on the Rack,
Who when is Flesh tears, and his Sinues crack,
Casts on the Tyrant a disdainful smile,
And in GOD's Love, rejoyceth all the while.
To those, which my Deriders heretofore
Have scoffingly so call'd: and, though I please
To sing Defiance in such words as these,
152
Who are yet wise, but in their own conceit)
'Tis no revengeful or malitious scorn,
Which back upon my scorners I return.
My Jollities, my Caprings and Advances,
Are not like those you see in Morrice-Dances;
Nor is my mirth like their, who chear their souls
With Musick, Banquets, and o'erflowing Bowls:
'Tis no meer outward or corporeal sense
Of Pleasures or Immunities, from whence
My Joys do spring: nor are they such as their,
Who by long Suff'ring stupified are:
(For, few men living, of all Humane passions,
Have deeper sense, or of their Aggravations)
But, my Exultings flow from apprehension
Of that, whereto my Faith hath an extension;
And of those Objects which I make those ends
To which my actings and my suff'ring tends,
As doth a wounded Conquerour, who cries,
Courage, my Mates, the day is ours; then dies:
Or rather, like a Martyr on the Rack,
Who when is Flesh tears, and his Sinues crack,
Casts on the Tyrant a disdainful smile,
And in GOD's Love, rejoyceth all the while.
That which is purposed by my Caresses,
And sparklings from my soul in these Expresses,
Is partly to preserve in my own heart
Those Resolutions, which might else depart:
Whereat grudge not, as if you thought I heeded
That which my self concerneth, more then needed;
For, moderate Self-love, is that whereby
We must to others measure Charity.
'Tis partly too, for others Informations
That I so oft insert Pre-occupations
Relating to my self, and to prevent
Annihilating of that good intent
Which I pursue; by taking that away
VVhich Prejudice alleage in private may.
And sparklings from my soul in these Expresses,
Is partly to preserve in my own heart
Those Resolutions, which might else depart:
Whereat grudge not, as if you thought I heeded
That which my self concerneth, more then needed;
For, moderate Self-love, is that whereby
We must to others measure Charity.
'Tis partly too, for others Informations
That I so oft insert Pre-occupations
153
Annihilating of that good intent
Which I pursue; by taking that away
VVhich Prejudice alleage in private may.
If these Expressions no advantage be
To other men, they are of use to me.
'Tis not amiss, lest I forgetful grow,
To mind my self sometimes of what I know,
And make to others known, that they who keep
Good Consciences, may sing themselves asleep
Amidst their greatest Foes: and without fear
Awake, when they by them alarmed are:
That, he on whom God makes his face to shine,
May be as glad as they, whose corn and wine
Doth still encrease, and with content be crown'd,
Which way soe'er the Rowling Wheel goes round:
For, he that acts in suff'rings what he teaches,
Moves more, then when but verbally he preaches.
To other men, they are of use to me.
'Tis not amiss, lest I forgetful grow,
To mind my self sometimes of what I know,
And make to others known, that they who keep
Good Consciences, may sing themselves asleep
Amidst their greatest Foes: and without fear
Awake, when they by them alarmed are:
That, he on whom God makes his face to shine,
May be as glad as they, whose corn and wine
Doth still encrease, and with content be crown'd,
Which way soe'er the Rowling Wheel goes round:
For, he that acts in suff'rings what he teaches,
Moves more, then when but verbally he preaches.
But, most men so abound in their own sense,
And rather so incline to take offence
At such Expressions, then them to regard;
That much of this perhaps might have been spar'd.
However, neither much more pains or cost,
Can I now loose, then is already lost:
Since therefore what she likes, the world hath got
From me, I'll give her what she liketh not:
For, not much longer am I now to bear
Her Burthens; or the scorn of Fools to hear:
And in my Grave, when I am laid asleep,
These Musings will believ'd Memorials keep,
Of things which to GOD's glory shall pertain,
Till his Trump calls me to awake again:
For, though Truths will to our Posterities
Conveyed be among a heap of Lyes,
They will to those who love them, shine as clear
As Diamonds which mixt with Charcoals are:
And therefore, till Death quite depriveth me
Of seeing that which in the Flesh I see,
And Faith foresees; to my Eternal King
To this effect, I'll Hallelujah sing.
And rather so incline to take offence
At such Expressions, then them to regard;
That much of this perhaps might have been spar'd.
However, neither much more pains or cost,
Can I now loose, then is already lost:
Since therefore what she likes, the world hath got
From me, I'll give her what she liketh not:
For, not much longer am I now to bear
Her Burthens; or the scorn of Fools to hear:
And in my Grave, when I am laid asleep,
These Musings will believ'd Memorials keep,
Of things which to GOD's glory shall pertain,
Till his Trump calls me to awake again:
For, though Truths will to our Posterities
Conveyed be among a heap of Lyes,
154
As Diamonds which mixt with Charcoals are:
And therefore, till Death quite depriveth me
Of seeing that which in the Flesh I see,
And Faith foresees; to my Eternal King
To this effect, I'll Hallelujah sing.
| Miscellaneous works of George Wither | |