Du Bartas His Divine Weekes And Workes with A Compleate Collectio[n] of all the other most delight-full Workes: Translated and written by yt famous Philomusus: Iosvah Sylvester |
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336
2. The Fathers.
A PART OF THE II PART OF THE III. DAY OF THE II. WEEK.
The Argvment.
The famous Father of the Faithfull, heerLimn'd to the life, in strife of Faith and Fear:
His Sonn's sweet nature, and his nurture such,
Endeer his Triall with a neerer Touch:
Keason's best Reasons are by Faith refell'd;
With God, th'Affection, for the Action held;
So, counter-manding His command (atchiev'd)
The Sire's approved, and the Son repriev'd.
Heer (had our Author liv'd, to end his Works)
Should have ensu'd the other Patriarchs.
O! 'Tis a Heav'nly and a happy turn,
Of godly Parents to be timely born:
To be brought-vp vnder the watchfull eyn
Of milde-sharp Masters awfull Discipline:
Chiefly, to be (even from the very first)
With the pure milk of true Religion nurst.
Of godly Parents to be timely born:
To be brought-vp vnder the watchfull eyn
Of milde-sharp Masters awfull Discipline:
Chiefly, to be (even from the very first)
With the pure milk of true Religion nurst.
Such hap had Isaac: but his Inclination
Exceeds his Birth, excels his Education.
His Faith, his Wit, Knowledge, and Iudgement sage,
Out-stripping Time, anticipate his age.
For (yet a Childe) he fears th'Eternall Lord,
And wisely waits all on his Fathers word;
Whose steady steps so duly he observes,
That every look, him for a lesson serves:
And every gesture, every wink and beck,
For a command, a warning and a check:
So that, his toward Diligence out-went
His fathers hopes and holy document.
Exceeds his Birth, excels his Education.
His Faith, his Wit, Knowledge, and Iudgement sage,
Out-stripping Time, anticipate his age.
For (yet a Childe) he fears th'Eternall Lord,
And wisely waits all on his Fathers word;
Whose steady steps so duly he observes,
That every look, him for a lesson serves:
And every gesture, every wink and beck,
For a command, a warning and a check:
337
His fathers hopes and holy document.
Now, though that Abram were a man discreet,
Sober and wise, well knowing what is meet;
Though his dear Son somtimes he seem to chide,
Yet hardly can he his affection hide:
For, evermore his love-betraying ey
On's darling Isaac glanceth tenderly:
Sweet Isaac's face seems as his Glass it were,
And Isaac's name is musick in his ear.
Sober and wise, well knowing what is meet;
Though his dear Son somtimes he seem to chide,
Yet hardly can he his affection hide:
For, evermore his love-betraying ey
On's darling Isaac glanceth tenderly:
Sweet Isaac's face seems as his Glass it were,
And Isaac's name is musick in his ear.
But God, perceiving this deep-settled Love,
Thence takes occasion Abrams Faith to prove;
And tempteth him: but not as doth the Divell
His Vassals tempt (or Man his Mate) to evill:
Satan still draws vs to Deaths dismall Path;
But God directs where Death no entry hath:
Ay Satan aims our constant Faith to foil;
But God doth seal it, never to recoil:
Satan suggesteth ill; God moves to grace:
The Divell seeks our Baptisme to deface;
But God, to make our burning Zeal to beam
The brighter ay in his Ierusalem.
Thence takes occasion Abrams Faith to prove;
And tempteth him: but not as doth the Divell
His Vassals tempt (or Man his Mate) to evill:
Satan still draws vs to Deaths dismall Path;
But God directs where Death no entry hath:
Ay Satan aims our constant Faith to foil;
But God doth seal it, never to recoil:
Satan suggesteth ill; God moves to grace:
The Divell seeks our Baptisme to deface;
But God, to make our burning Zeal to beam
The brighter ay in his Ierusalem.
A Prince, that means effectuall proof to make
Of som Mans faith that he doth newly take,
Examins strictly, and with much a-doo,
His Words and Deeds, and every gesture too;
And, as without, within as well to spy-him,
Doth carefully by all means sift and try-him.
Of som Mans faith that he doth newly take,
Examins strictly, and with much a-doo,
His Words and Deeds, and every gesture too;
And, as without, within as well to spy-him,
Doth carefully by all means sift and try-him.
But God ne'r seeks by Triall of Temptation
To sound Mans heart and secret cogitation
(For, well he knowes Man, and his ey doth see
All thoughts of men yer they conceived be):
But this is still his high and holy drift,
When through temptation he his Saints doth sift,
To leave for pattern to his Churches seed
Their stedfast Faith, and never-daunted Creed.
To sound Mans heart and secret cogitation
(For, well he knowes Man, and his ey doth see
All thoughts of men yer they conceived be):
But this is still his high and holy drift,
When through temptation he his Saints doth sift,
To leave for pattern to his Churches seed
Their stedfast Faith, and never-daunted Creed.
Yet, out of season God doth never try
His new-converted Children, by and by:
Such novices would quickly faint and shrink:
Such ill-rigg'd ships would even in lanching sink:
Their Faiths light blossoms would with every blast
Be blown away, and bear no fruit at last:
Against so boistrous stroaks they want a shield:
Vnder such weight their feeble strength would yield.
But when his Words dear seed, that he hath sowen
Within their hearts, is rooted well and growen:
And when they have a broad thick Breast-plate on,
High peril-proof against affliction:
Such as our Abram: Who, now waxen strong
Through exercise of many trials long,
Of faith, of love, of fortitude and right.
Who, by long weary wandrings day and night,
By often Terrors, Lots Imprisonment,
His Wifes twice taking, Ismaels banishment,
Being made invincible for all assaults
Of Heav'n and Earth, and the infernall Vaults;
Is tempted by the Voice which made all things,
Which sceptreth Shepheards, and vn-crowneth Kings.
His new-converted Children, by and by:
Such novices would quickly faint and shrink:
Such ill-rigg'd ships would even in lanching sink:
Their Faiths light blossoms would with every blast
Be blown away, and bear no fruit at last:
Against so boistrous stroaks they want a shield:
Vnder such weight their feeble strength would yield.
But when his Words dear seed, that he hath sowen
Within their hearts, is rooted well and growen:
And when they have a broad thick Breast-plate on,
High peril-proof against affliction:
338
Through exercise of many trials long,
Of faith, of love, of fortitude and right.
Who, by long weary wandrings day and night,
By often Terrors, Lots Imprisonment,
His Wifes twice taking, Ismaels banishment,
Being made invincible for all assaults
Of Heav'n and Earth, and the infernall Vaults;
Is tempted by the Voice which made all things,
Which sceptreth Shepheards, and vn-crowneth Kings.
Give me a voice, now, O Voice all divine!
With sacred fire inflame this breast of mine:
Ah! ravish me, make all this Vniverse
Admire thine Abram pourtraid in my Verse.
With sacred fire inflame this breast of mine:
Ah! ravish me, make all this Vniverse
Admire thine Abram pourtraid in my Verse.
Mine Abram, said the Lord dear Abraham,
Thy God, thy King, thy Fee, thy Fence I am:
Hy straight to Salem, and there quickly kill
Thine own Son Isaac; on that sacred Hill
Heaw him in peeces, and commit the same
In sacrifice vnto the ragefull Flame.
Thy God, thy King, thy Fee, thy Fence I am:
Hy straight to Salem, and there quickly kill
Thine own Son Isaac; on that sacred Hill
Heaw him in peeces, and commit the same
In sacrifice vnto the ragefull Flame.
As he, that slumbering on his carefull Bed,
Seems to discern som Fancy full of dread,
Shrinks down himself, and fearfull hides his face,
And scant draws breath in half an howers space:
So Abraham at these sharp-sounding words
(Which wound him deeper than a thousand swords)
Seized at once with wonder, grief and fright,
Is well-nigh sunk in Deaths eternall night;
Death's ash-pale Image in his eyes doth swim,
A chilling Ice shivers through every lim,
Flat on the ground himself he groveling throwes,
A hundred times his colour coms and goes,
From all his body a cold deaw doth drop,
His speech doth fail, and every sense doth stop.
Seems to discern som Fancy full of dread,
Shrinks down himself, and fearfull hides his face,
And scant draws breath in half an howers space:
So Abraham at these sharp-sounding words
(Which wound him deeper than a thousand swords)
Seized at once with wonder, grief and fright,
Is well-nigh sunk in Deaths eternall night;
Death's ash-pale Image in his eyes doth swim,
A chilling Ice shivers through every lim,
Flat on the ground himself he groveling throwes,
A hundred times his colour coms and goes,
From all his body a cold deaw doth drop,
His speech doth fail, and every sense doth stop.
But, self-return'd, two sounding sobs he cast,
Then two deep sighes, then these sad words at last:
Cruell command, quoth He, that I should kill
A tender Infant, innocent of ill:
That in cold blood I (barbarously) should murder
My (fear-less, fault-less) faithfull Friend; nay (further)
Mine own dear Son: and what dear Son? Alas!
Mine onely Isaac (whose sweet vertues pass
The lovely sweetnes of his angel-face)
Isaac, sole Pattern of now-Vertue knowen;
Isaac, in yeers yong, but in wisdom growen;
Isaac, whom good men love, the rest envy:
Isaac, my hearts heart, my lifes life, must dy.
That I should stain an execrable Shrine
With Isaac's warm blood, issued out of mine.
O! might mine serve, 't were tolerable loss,
'T were little hurt; nay, 't were a welcom cross.
I bear no longer fruit: the best of Mee
Is like a fruit-less, branch-less, sap-less Tree,
Or hollow Trunk, which onely serves for staies
To crawling Ivie's weak and winding spraies.
But, losing Isaac, I not onely leese
My life withall (which Heav'ns have linkt to his)
But (O!) more millions of Babes yet vn-bore,
Than there be sands vpon the Lybian shoar.
Then two deep sighes, then these sad words at last:
Cruell command, quoth He, that I should kill
A tender Infant, innocent of ill:
That in cold blood I (barbarously) should murder
My (fear-less, fault-less) faithfull Friend; nay (further)
Mine own dear Son: and what dear Son? Alas!
Mine onely Isaac (whose sweet vertues pass
The lovely sweetnes of his angel-face)
Isaac, sole Pattern of now-Vertue knowen;
Isaac, in yeers yong, but in wisdom growen;
Isaac, whom good men love, the rest envy:
Isaac, my hearts heart, my lifes life, must dy.
That I should stain an execrable Shrine
With Isaac's warm blood, issued out of mine.
339
'T were little hurt; nay, 't were a welcom cross.
I bear no longer fruit: the best of Mee
Is like a fruit-less, branch-less, sap-less Tree,
Or hollow Trunk, which onely serves for staies
To crawling Ivie's weak and winding spraies.
But, losing Isaac, I not onely leese
My life withall (which Heav'ns have linkt to his)
But (O!) more millions of Babes yet vn-bore,
Than there be sands vpon the Lybian shoar.
Canst thou, mine Arm? O! canst thou, cruell Arm;
In Isaac's breast thy bloody weapon warm?
Alas! I could not but even dy for grief,
Should I but yield mine Ages sweet relief
(My bliss, my comfort, and mine eys delight)
Into the hands of Hang-mens spare-less spight:
But, that mine own self (O extreamest Rigour!)
What my self formed, should, my self, dis-figure:
That I (alas!) with bloody hand and knife,
Should rip his bosom, rend his heart and life:
That (odious Author of a Precedent
So rarely ruth-less) I should once present,
Vpon a sacred Altar, an Oblation
So barbarous (O brute abomination!)
That I should broil his flesh, and in the flame
Behould his bowels crackling in the same;
'Tis horrible to think, and hellish too,
Cruell to wish, impossible to doo.
In Isaac's breast thy bloody weapon warm?
Alas! I could not but even dy for grief,
Should I but yield mine Ages sweet relief
(My bliss, my comfort, and mine eys delight)
Into the hands of Hang-mens spare-less spight:
But, that mine own self (O extreamest Rigour!)
What my self formed, should, my self, dis-figure:
That I (alas!) with bloody hand and knife,
Should rip his bosom, rend his heart and life:
That (odious Author of a Precedent
So rarely ruth-less) I should once present,
Vpon a sacred Altar, an Oblation
So barbarous (O brute abomination!)
That I should broil his flesh, and in the flame
Behould his bowels crackling in the same;
'Tis horrible to think, and hellish too,
Cruell to wish, impossible to doo.
Doo't he that lists, and that delights in blood:
I neither will, nor can becom so wood,
T'obey in this: God, whom we take to be
Th'eternall Pillar of all verity,
And constant faith; will he be faith-less now?
Will he be false, and from his promise bow?
Will he (alas!) vndoo what he hath don,
Mar what he makes, and lose what he hath won?
Sail with each winde? and shall his promise, then,
Serve but for snares t'intrap sincerest men?
I neither will, nor can becom so wood,
T'obey in this: God, whom we take to be
Th'eternall Pillar of all verity,
And constant faith; will he be faith-less now?
Will he be false, and from his promise bow?
Will he (alas!) vndoo what he hath don,
Mar what he makes, and lose what he hath won?
Sail with each winde? and shall his promise, then,
Serve but for snares t'intrap sincerest men?
Somtimes, by his eternall self he swears,
That my Son Isaac's number-passing Heirs
Shall fill the Land, and that his fruitfull Race
Shall be the blessed levain of his Grace;
Now he commands me his dear life to spill,
And in the Cradle my health's Hope to kill,
To drown the whole World in the blood of him;
And at one stroak, vpon his fruitfull stem,
To strike-off all the heads of all the flock
That should heerafter his drad Name invoke,
His sacred nostrils with sweet smels delight,
His ears with praises, with good deeds his sight.
Will God impugn himself? and will he so
By his command his Covenant overthrowe?
And shall my faith my faith's confounder be?
Then faith, or doubting, are both one to me.
That my Son Isaac's number-passing Heirs
Shall fill the Land, and that his fruitfull Race
Shall be the blessed levain of his Grace;
Now he commands me his dear life to spill,
And in the Cradle my health's Hope to kill,
To drown the whole World in the blood of him;
And at one stroak, vpon his fruitfull stem,
To strike-off all the heads of all the flock
That should heerafter his drad Name invoke,
340
His ears with praises, with good deeds his sight.
Will God impugn himself? and will he so
By his command his Covenant overthrowe?
And shall my faith my faith's confounder be?
Then faith, or doubting, are both one to me.
Alas! what saist thou, Abram? pawse thou must.
He that revives the Phœnix from her dust,
And from dead Silk-worms Toombs (their shining Clews)
A living bird with painted wings renews;
Will he forget Isaac, the onely stock
Of his chaste Spouse (his Church and chosen Flock)?
Will he forget Isaac, the onely Light
Of all the World, for Vertues lustre bright?
Or, can he not (if't please him) even in death
Restore him life, and re-inspire him breath?
He that revives the Phœnix from her dust,
And from dead Silk-worms Toombs (their shining Clews)
A living bird with painted wings renews;
Will he forget Isaac, the onely stock
Of his chaste Spouse (his Church and chosen Flock)?
Will he forget Isaac, the onely Light
Of all the World, for Vertues lustre bright?
Or, can he not (if't please him) even in death
Restore him life, and re-inspire him breath?
But mark, the while thou bringest for defence
The All-proof Towr of his Omnipotence,
Thou shak'st his Iustice. This is certain (too)
God can doo all, save that he will not doo.
He loves none ill: for, when the wreakfull Waves
Were all return'd into their wonted Caves;
When all the Meads, and every fruitfull Plain,
Began (with ioy) to see the Sun again;
So soon as Noah (with a gladsom heart)
Forth of his floating Prison did depart,
God did forbid Murder: and nothing more
Then Murder, doth his Maiesty abhor.
The All-proof Towr of his Omnipotence,
Thou shak'st his Iustice. This is certain (too)
God can doo all, save that he will not doo.
He loves none ill: for, when the wreakfull Waves
Were all return'd into their wonted Caves;
When all the Meads, and every fruitfull Plain,
Began (with ioy) to see the Sun again;
So soon as Noah (with a gladsom heart)
Forth of his floating Prison did depart,
God did forbid Murder: and nothing more
Then Murder, doth his Maiesty abhor.
But (shallow man) sound not the vast Abyss
Of God's deep Iudgements, where no ground ther is:
Be sober-wise: so, bound thy frail desire:
And, what thou canst not comprehend, admire.
God our Lawmaker (iust and righteous)
Maketh his Laws, not for himself, but vs:
He frees himself; and flees with his Powrs wing,
No where, but where his holy will doth bring:
All that he doth is good: but not therefore
Must he needs doo it 'cause 't was good before:
But good is good, because it doth (indeed)
From him (the Root of perfect good) proceed:
From him, the Fountain of pure Righteousnes:
From him, whose goodnes nothing can express.
Of God's deep Iudgements, where no ground ther is:
Be sober-wise: so, bound thy frail desire:
And, what thou canst not comprehend, admire.
God our Lawmaker (iust and righteous)
Maketh his Laws, not for himself, but vs:
He frees himself; and flees with his Powrs wing,
No where, but where his holy will doth bring:
All that he doth is good: but not therefore
Must he needs doo it 'cause 't was good before:
But good is good, because it doth (indeed)
From him (the Root of perfect good) proceed:
From him, the Fountain of pure Righteousnes:
From him, whose goodnes nothing can express.
Ah, profane thoughts! O wretch! and think'st thou then
That God delights to drink the blood of men?
That he intends by such a strange impiety
To plant his service? You, you forged deity
Of Molech, Milchom, Camosh, Astaroth,
Your damned shrines with such dire Orgies blot:
You Tyrants, you delight in Sacrifice
Of slaughtered Children: 't is your bloody guise
(You cruell Idols) with such Hecatombs
To glut the rage of your outrageous dooms:
You hould no sent so sweet, no gift so good,
As streaming Rivers of our luke-warm blood:
Not Abram's God (ay gracious, holy, kinde)
Who made the World but onely for Mankinde:
Who hates the bloody hands; his Creatures loves;
And contrite hearts for sacrifice approves.
You, you, disguiz'd (as angels of the light)
Would make my God Author of this despight,
Supplant my Faith on his sure promise built,
And stain his Altars with this bloody guilt.
That God delights to drink the blood of men?
That he intends by such a strange impiety
To plant his service? You, you forged deity
Of Molech, Milchom, Camosh, Astaroth,
Your damned shrines with such dire Orgies blot:
341
Of slaughtered Children: 't is your bloody guise
(You cruell Idols) with such Hecatombs
To glut the rage of your outrageous dooms:
You hould no sent so sweet, no gift so good,
As streaming Rivers of our luke-warm blood:
Not Abram's God (ay gracious, holy, kinde)
Who made the World but onely for Mankinde:
Who hates the bloody hands; his Creatures loves;
And contrite hearts for sacrifice approves.
You, you, disguiz'd (as angels of the light)
Would make my God Author of this despight,
Supplant my Faith on his sure promise built,
And stain his Altars with this bloody guilt.
No, no, my Ioy, my Boy thrice-happy born
(Yea, more then so, if furious I, forlorn,
Hurt not thy Hap) a Father shalt thou be
Of happy People that shall spring from thee.
Fear not (dear Childe) that I, vnnaturall,
Should in thy blood imbrue my hand at all:
Or by th'exploit of such detested deed
Commend my name to them that shall succeed.
I will, the Fame that of my name shall ring
In time to com, shall flee with fairer wing.
(Yea, more then so, if furious I, forlorn,
Hurt not thy Hap) a Father shalt thou be
Of happy People that shall spring from thee.
Fear not (dear Childe) that I, vnnaturall,
Should in thy blood imbrue my hand at all:
Or by th'exploit of such detested deed
Commend my name to them that shall succeed.
I will, the Fame that of my name shall ring
In time to com, shall flee with fairer wing.
The lofty Pine, that's shaken to and fro
With Counter-pufs of sundry windes that blowe,
Now, swaying South-wards, tears som root in twain,
Then, bending North-wards, doth another strain,
Reels vp and down, tost by two Tyrants fell,
Would fall, but cannot; neither yet can tell
(Inconstant Neuter, that to both doth yield)
Which of the two is like to win the Field:
So Abraham, on each side set-vpon
Betwixt his Faith and his Affection;
One while his Faith, anon Affection swaies:
Now wins Religion, anon Reason waighs:
Hee's now a fond, and then a faithfull, Father:
Now resolute, anon relenting rather.
One while the Flesh hath got the vpper hand:
Anon the Spirit the same doth countermand.
Hee's loth (alas!) his tender Son to kill;
But much more loth to break His Fathers will.
For thus (at last) He saith, now sure I knowe,
'T is God, 't is God; the God that loves me so,
Loves, keeps, sustains: whom I so oft haue seen:
Whose voice so often hath my comfort been.
Illuding Satan cannot shine so bright,
Though Angelliz'd: No, 't is my God of Might.
Now feel I in my Soule (to strength and stir-it)
The sacred Motions of his sacred Spirit.
God, this sad Sacrifice requires of me;
Hap what hap may, I must obedient be.
With Counter-pufs of sundry windes that blowe,
Now, swaying South-wards, tears som root in twain,
Then, bending North-wards, doth another strain,
Reels vp and down, tost by two Tyrants fell,
Would fall, but cannot; neither yet can tell
(Inconstant Neuter, that to both doth yield)
Which of the two is like to win the Field:
So Abraham, on each side set-vpon
Betwixt his Faith and his Affection;
One while his Faith, anon Affection swaies:
Now wins Religion, anon Reason waighs:
Hee's now a fond, and then a faithfull, Father:
Now resolute, anon relenting rather.
One while the Flesh hath got the vpper hand:
Anon the Spirit the same doth countermand.
Hee's loth (alas!) his tender Son to kill;
But much more loth to break His Fathers will.
For thus (at last) He saith, now sure I knowe,
'T is God, 't is God; the God that loves me so,
Loves, keeps, sustains: whom I so oft haue seen:
Whose voice so often hath my comfort been.
Illuding Satan cannot shine so bright,
Though Angelliz'd: No, 't is my God of Might.
342
The sacred Motions of his sacred Spirit.
God, this sad Sacrifice requires of me;
Hap what hap may, I must obedient be.
The sable Night dis-lodg'd: and now began
Aurora's Vsher with his windy Fan
Gently to shake the Woods on every side,
While his fair Mistress (like a stately Bride)
With Flowrs, and Gems, and Indian Gold, doth spangle
Her lovely locks, her Lovers looks to tangle;
When, gliding through the Air in Mantle blew,
With silver fring'd, she drops the Pearly deaw.
With her goes Abram out; and the third day,
Arrives on Cedrons Margents greenly-gay,
Behoulds the sacred Hill, and with his Son
(Loaden with sacred wood) he mounts anon.
Aurora's Vsher with his windy Fan
Gently to shake the Woods on every side,
While his fair Mistress (like a stately Bride)
With Flowrs, and Gems, and Indian Gold, doth spangle
Her lovely locks, her Lovers looks to tangle;
When, gliding through the Air in Mantle blew,
With silver fring'd, she drops the Pearly deaw.
With her goes Abram out; and the third day,
Arrives on Cedrons Margents greenly-gay,
Behoulds the sacred Hill, and with his Son
(Loaden with sacred wood) he mounts anon.
Anon, said Isaac; Father, heer I see
Knife, fire and faggot, ready instantly:
But wher's your Hoste? Oh! let vs mount, my Son,
Said Abram: God will soon provide vs one.
But, scant had Isaac turn'd his face from him
A little faster the steep Mount to climb,
Yer Abram changed cheer; and, as new Wine,
Working a-new, in the new Cask (in fine)
For beeing stopt too-soon, and wanting vent,
Blowes-vp the Bung, or doth the vessell rent,
Spews out a purple stream, the ground doth stain
With Bacchus colour, where the Cask hath lain:
So, now the Tears (which manly fortitude
Did yerst as captive in the Brain include)
At the dear names of Father and of Son,
On his pale Cheeks in pearly drops did run:
His eyes full vessels now began to leak:
And thus th'old Hebrew muttering gan to speak
In submiss voice, that Isaac might not hear
His bitter grief, that he vnfoldeth heer.
Knife, fire and faggot, ready instantly:
But wher's your Hoste? Oh! let vs mount, my Son,
Said Abram: God will soon provide vs one.
But, scant had Isaac turn'd his face from him
A little faster the steep Mount to climb,
Yer Abram changed cheer; and, as new Wine,
Working a-new, in the new Cask (in fine)
For beeing stopt too-soon, and wanting vent,
Blowes-vp the Bung, or doth the vessell rent,
Spews out a purple stream, the ground doth stain
With Bacchus colour, where the Cask hath lain:
So, now the Tears (which manly fortitude
Did yerst as captive in the Brain include)
At the dear names of Father and of Son,
On his pale Cheeks in pearly drops did run:
His eyes full vessels now began to leak:
And thus th'old Hebrew muttering gan to speak
In submiss voice, that Isaac might not hear
His bitter grief, that he vnfoldeth heer.
Sad spectacle! O now my hap-less hand,
Thou whetst a sword, and thou doost teend a brand,
The brand shall burn my heart, the sword's keen blade
Shall my bloods blood, and my lifes life, invade:
Thou whetst a sword, and thou doost teend a brand,
The brand shall burn my heart, the sword's keen blade
Shall my bloods blood, and my lifes life, invade:
And thou, poor Isaac, bearest on thy back
Wood that shall make thy tender flesh to crack;
And yeeld'st thee, (more for mine than thine amiss)
Both Priest and Beast of one same Sacrifice.
O hap-less Son! O more then hap-less Sire!
Most wicked wretch! O what mis-fortune dire
In-gulfs vs heer! where miserable I,
To be true godly, must Gods law deny:
To be true faithfull, must my faith transgress:
To be Gods Son, I must be nothing less
Than Isaacs Sire: and Isaac (for my sake)
Must, Soil, and Sire, and Life, and all, forsake.
Wood that shall make thy tender flesh to crack;
And yeeld'st thee, (more for mine than thine amiss)
Both Priest and Beast of one same Sacrifice.
O hap-less Son! O more then hap-less Sire!
Most wicked wretch! O what mis-fortune dire
In-gulfs vs heer! where miserable I,
To be true godly, must Gods law deny:
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To be Gods Son, I must be nothing less
Than Isaacs Sire: and Isaac (for my sake)
Must, Soil, and Sire, and Life, and all, forsake.
Yet on he goes, and soon surmounts the Mount;
And, steel'd by Faith, he cheers his mournfull Front:
(Much like the Delian Princess, when her Grace.
In Thetis Waves hath lately washt her face)
He builds his Altar, layes his wood ther-on,
And tenderly bindes his dear Son anon.
And, steel'd by Faith, he cheers his mournfull Front:
(Much like the Delian Princess, when her Grace.
In Thetis Waves hath lately washt her face)
He builds his Altar, layes his wood ther-on,
And tenderly bindes his dear Son anon.
Father, said Isaac, Father, Father dear
(What? do you turn away, as loth to hear?)
O Father, tell me, tell me what you mean:
O cruelty vn-knowen! Is this the mean
Wherby my loins (as promised long since-is)
Shall make you Grand-sire of so many Princes?
And shall I (glorious) if I heer do dy,
Fill Earth with Kings, with shining Stars the Sky?
(What? do you turn away, as loth to hear?)
O Father, tell me, tell me what you mean:
O cruelty vn-knowen! Is this the mean
Wherby my loins (as promised long since-is)
Shall make you Grand-sire of so many Princes?
And shall I (glorious) if I heer do dy,
Fill Earth with Kings, with shining Stars the Sky?
Back, Phœbus: blush, go hide thy golden head:
Retire thy Coach to Thetis watery Bed:
See not this savage sight. Shall Abraham's minde
Be milde to all, and to his Son vn-kinde!
And shall great Abram do the damned deed
That Lyons, Tigers, Boars, and Bears would dread!
See how (incenst) he stops his ear to me,
As dreaming still on's bloody Mystery.
Lord, how precise! see how the Paricide
Seems to make conscience in less sins to slide:
And he, that means to murder me (his Son)
Is scrupulous in smaller faults to run.
Retire thy Coach to Thetis watery Bed:
See not this savage sight. Shall Abraham's minde
Be milde to all, and to his Son vn-kinde!
And shall great Abram do the damned deed
That Lyons, Tigers, Boars, and Bears would dread!
See how (incenst) he stops his ear to me,
As dreaming still on's bloody Mystery.
Lord, how precise! see how the Paricide
Seems to make conscience in less sins to slide:
And he, that means to murder me (his Son)
Is scrupulous in smaller faults to run.
Yet (Father) hear me; not that I desire
With sugred words to quench your Angers fire:
In God's Name reap the Grain your self have sowen;
Com take my life, extracted from your owne,
Glut with my blood your blade, if you it please
That I must dy; welcom my death (mine ease):
But, tell me yet my fault (before I dy)
That hath deserv'd a punishment so high.
Say (Father) have I not conspir'd your death?
Or, with strong poyson sought to stop your breath?
Have I devis'd to short my Mother's life?
Or, with your Foes ta'en part in any strife?
With sugred words to quench your Angers fire:
In God's Name reap the Grain your self have sowen;
Com take my life, extracted from your owne,
Glut with my blood your blade, if you it please
That I must dy; welcom my death (mine ease):
But, tell me yet my fault (before I dy)
That hath deserv'd a punishment so high.
Say (Father) have I not conspir'd your death?
Or, with strong poyson sought to stop your breath?
Have I devis'd to short my Mother's life?
Or, with your Foes ta'en part in any strife?
O thou Æthereall Palace Crystalline
(Gods highest Court) If in this heart of mine
So damned thoughts had ever any place,
Shut-vp for ever all thy Gates of Grace
Against my Soule; and suffer not, that I
Among thy winged Messengers do fly.
(Gods highest Court) If in this heart of mine
So damned thoughts had ever any place,
Shut-vp for ever all thy Gates of Grace
Against my Soule; and suffer not, that I
Among thy winged Messengers do fly.
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If none of these, Abram (for I no more
Dare call thee Father) tell me further-more
What rests besides, that damned I have don,
To make a Father Butcher of his Son?
In memory, that fault I fain would have,
That (after God's) I might your pardon crave
For such offence; and so, th'Attonement driven,
You live content, that I may dy forgiven.
Dare call thee Father) tell me further-more
What rests besides, that damned I have don,
To make a Father Butcher of his Son?
In memory, that fault I fain would have,
That (after God's) I might your pardon crave
For such offence; and so, th'Attonement driven,
You live content, that I may dy forgiven.
My Son, said He, thou art not hither brought
By my fell fury, nor thine owne foul fault:
God (our God) calls thee, and He will not let
A Pagan sword in thy dear blood be wet;
Nor burning plague, nor any pining pain
With Languor turn thy flesh to dust againe:
But Sacrifiç'd to him (for sweet perfume)
Will have thee heer within this fire consume.
What? Fears my Love, my Life, my Gem, my Ioy?
What God commands, his servants must obey,
Without consulting with frail Flesh and Blood,
How he his promise will in time make good:
How he will make so many Scepters spring
From thy dead dust: How He (All-wise) will bring,
In his due season, from thy sense-less Thighs,
The glorious Son of righteousnes to rise,
Who shall the Mountains bruise with yron Mace,
Rule Heav'n and Earth, and the Infernall place.
For he that (past the course of Natures kinde)
First gave thee birth, can with his sacred Winde
Raise thee again out of the lowest dust.
Ten-thousand means he hath to save the Iust:
His glorious wisdom guides the worlds society
With equall Reans of Power and of Piety.
By my fell fury, nor thine owne foul fault:
God (our God) calls thee, and He will not let
A Pagan sword in thy dear blood be wet;
Nor burning plague, nor any pining pain
With Languor turn thy flesh to dust againe:
But Sacrifiç'd to him (for sweet perfume)
Will have thee heer within this fire consume.
What? Fears my Love, my Life, my Gem, my Ioy?
What God commands, his servants must obey,
Without consulting with frail Flesh and Blood,
How he his promise will in time make good:
How he will make so many Scepters spring
From thy dead dust: How He (All-wise) will bring,
In his due season, from thy sense-less Thighs,
The glorious Son of righteousnes to rise,
Who shall the Mountains bruise with yron Mace,
Rule Heav'n and Earth, and the Infernall place.
For he that (past the course of Natures kinde)
First gave thee birth, can with his sacred Winde
Raise thee again out of the lowest dust.
Ten-thousand means he hath to save the Iust:
His glorious wisdom guides the worlds society
With equall Reans of Power and of Piety.
Mine own sweet Isaac, dearest of my seed
(Too-sweet, alas! the more my grief doth bleed,
The more my loss; the more, with ease-less anguish,
My vexed Bowels for thy lack shall languish)
Adieu, dear Son (no longer mine, but His
Who calls thee hence) let this vnhappy kiss
Be the sad seal of a more sad Fare-well
Then wit can paint, or words have powr to tell.
(Too-sweet, alas! the more my grief doth bleed,
The more my loss; the more, with ease-less anguish,
My vexed Bowels for thy lack shall languish)
Adieu, dear Son (no longer mine, but His
Who calls thee hence) let this vnhappy kiss
Be the sad seal of a more sad Fare-well
Then wit can paint, or words have powr to tell.
Sith God commands, and (Father) you require
To have it so, com Death (no longer dire,
But glorious now) com gentle death, dispatch:
The Heav'ns are open, God his arms doth reach
T'imbrace my Soule: O! let me bravely fly
To meet my Lord, and Deaths proud darts defie.
To have it so, com Death (no longer dire,
But glorious now) com gentle death, dispatch:
The Heav'ns are open, God his arms doth reach
T'imbrace my Soule: O! let me bravely fly
To meet my Lord, and Deaths proud darts defie.
What, Father? weep you now? Ah! cease those showrs:
Weep not for me; for I no more am yours:
I was the Lords yer I was born, you knowe;
And he but lent me for a while to you:
Will you recoil, and (Coward) lose the Crown
So neer your head, to heap you with renown?
Shall we so dare to dally with the Lord?
To cast his yoak, and to contemn his Word?
Where shall we fly his hand? Heav'n is his Throne:
The Earth his foot-stool: and dark Acheron
(The Dungeon where the damned soules be shut)
Is of his anger evermore the But.
On him alone all our good hap depends:
And he alone from dangers vs defends.
Weep not for me; for I no more am yours:
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And he but lent me for a while to you:
Will you recoil, and (Coward) lose the Crown
So neer your head, to heap you with renown?
Shall we so dare to dally with the Lord?
To cast his yoak, and to contemn his Word?
Where shall we fly his hand? Heav'n is his Throne:
The Earth his foot-stool: and dark Acheron
(The Dungeon where the damned soules be shut)
Is of his anger evermore the But.
On him alone all our good hap depends:
And he alone from dangers vs defends.
Ah! weep no more: This sacred Turf doth crave
More blood then tears: let's so our selves behave,
That, ioyn'd in zeal, we yeeld vs willingly
To make a vertue of necessity.
Let's testifie, we have a time abod;
I, in your School; you, in the School of God:
Where we have learned, that his sacred Word
(Which made of Nothing all that ever stirr'd;
Which all sustains, and all directeth still)
To divers ends conducts the good and ill.
More blood then tears: let's so our selves behave,
That, ioyn'd in zeal, we yeeld vs willingly
To make a vertue of necessity.
Let's testifie, we have a time abod;
I, in your School; you, in the School of God:
Where we have learned, that his sacred Word
(Which made of Nothing all that ever stirr'd;
Which all sustains, and all directeth still)
To divers ends conducts the good and ill.
Who loves not God more then all Kinn's respect,
Deserves no place among his dear Elect:
And who doth once God's Tillage vnder-take,
Must not look back, neither his Plough forsake.
Deserves no place among his dear Elect:
And who doth once God's Tillage vnder-take,
Must not look back, neither his Plough forsake.
Heer-with, th'old Hebrew cheerfuller becam,
And (to himself) cries, Courage Abraham:
The World, the Flesh, Adam, are dead in thee:
God, Spirit, and Faith, alone subsisting be.
Lord, by thy Spirit vnto my spirit annex
So lively Faith, that still mine eyes may fix
On thy true Isaac, whose sharp (sin-less) Suffering
Shall purge from Sin me and my sinfull offering.
And (to himself) cries, Courage Abraham:
The World, the Flesh, Adam, are dead in thee:
God, Spirit, and Faith, alone subsisting be.
Lord, by thy Spirit vnto my spirit annex
So lively Faith, that still mine eyes may fix
On thy true Isaac, whose sharp (sin-less) Suffering
Shall purge from Sin me and my sinfull offering.
Scarce had he drawn his sword (in resolution)
With heaved hand for instant execution,
When instantly the thundring Voice of God
Staid heart and hand, and thus the Fact forbod;
Abram, enough: hould, hould thy hand (said he)
Put-vp thy sword; thine Isaac shall not dy:
Now, of thy Faith I have had perfect proof;
Thy Will for Deed I do accept: Enough.
With heaved hand for instant execution,
When instantly the thundring Voice of God
Staid heart and hand, and thus the Fact forbod;
Abram, enough: hould, hould thy hand (said he)
Put-vp thy sword; thine Isaac shall not dy:
Now, of thy Faith I have had perfect proof;
Thy Will for Deed I do accept: Enough.
Glad Abram, then, to God gives thanks and praise,
Vnbindes his Son, and in his room he laies
A Lamb (there strangely hampered by the head)
And that, to God, devoutly offered.
Vnbindes his Son, and in his room he laies
A Lamb (there strangely hampered by the head)
And that, to God, devoutly offered.
Renowned Abraham, Thy noble Acts
Excell the Fictions of Heroïk Facts:
And, that pure Law a Son of thine should write,
Shall nothing-else but thy brave deeds recite.
Extoll who list thy wisdoms excellence,
Victorious Valour, frank Beneficence,
And Iustice too (which even the Gentiles honor):
Ill dares my Muse take such a task vpon-her.
Onely thy Faith (not all, with all th'effects)
Onely one fruit of thousand she selects,
For glorious subiect: which (to say the right)
I rather love to wonder-at, then write.
Excell the Fictions of Heroïk Facts:
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Shall nothing-else but thy brave deeds recite.
Extoll who list thy wisdoms excellence,
Victorious Valour, frank Beneficence,
And Iustice too (which even the Gentiles honor):
Ill dares my Muse take such a task vpon-her.
Onely thy Faith (not all, with all th'effects)
Onely one fruit of thousand she selects,
For glorious subiect: which (to say the right)
I rather love to wonder-at, then write.
Go Pagans, turn, turn-over every Book:
Through all Memorials of your Martyrs look:
Collect a Scroule of all the Children slain
On th'Altars of your gods: dig-vp again
Your lying Legends: Run through every Temple:
Among your Offerings choose the best example
(Among your Offerings which your Fathers past
Have made, to make their names eternall last)
Among them all (fondlings) you shall not finde
Such an example, where (vnkindely-kinde)
Father and Son so mutually agree
To shewe themselves, Father nor Son to be:
Where man's deep zeal, and God's dear fauour, strove
For Counter-conquest in officious love.
Through all Memorials of your Martyrs look:
Collect a Scroule of all the Children slain
On th'Altars of your gods: dig-vp again
Your lying Legends: Run through every Temple:
Among your Offerings choose the best example
(Among your Offerings which your Fathers past
Have made, to make their names eternall last)
Among them all (fondlings) you shall not finde
Such an example, where (vnkindely-kinde)
Father and Son so mutually agree
To shewe themselves, Father nor Son to be:
Where man's deep zeal, and God's dear fauour, strove
For Counter-conquest in officious love.
One, by constraint his Son doth sacrifice:
Another means his Name t'immortalize
By such a Fact: Another hopes to shun
Som dismall Plague, or dire Affliction:
Another, onely that he may conform
To (Tyrant) Custom's, aw-less, law-less Form,
Which blears our eys, and blurs our senses so,
That Lady Reason must her seat forgo:
Yea, blindes the iudgement of the World so far,
That Vertue's oft arraign'd at Vice's Bar.
Another means his Name t'immortalize
By such a Fact: Another hopes to shun
Som dismall Plague, or dire Affliction:
Another, onely that he may conform
To (Tyrant) Custom's, aw-less, law-less Form,
Which blears our eys, and blurs our senses so,
That Lady Reason must her seat forgo:
Yea, blindes the iudgement of the World so far,
That Vertue's oft arraign'd at Vice's Bar.
But, vn-constrain'd, our Abram, all alone,
Vpon a Mountain, to the guise of none
(For, it was odious to the Iews to doo)
And in a time of Peace and Plenty too,
Fights against Nature (prickt with wondrous zeal)
And, slaying Isaac, wars against his Weal.
Vpon a Mountain, to the guise of none
(For, it was odious to the Iews to doo)
And in a time of Peace and Plenty too,
Fights against Nature (prickt with wondrous zeal)
And, slaying Isaac, wars against his Weal.
O sacred Muse! that, on the double Mount,
With withering Baies bind'st not thy Singers Front;
But, on Mount Sion in the Angels Quire,
With Crowns of glory doost their brows attire;
Tell (for, thou know'st) what sacred Mystery
Vnder this shadow doth in secret ly?
With withering Baies bind'st not thy Singers Front;
But, on Mount Sion in the Angels Quire,
With Crowns of glory doost their brows attire;
Tell (for, thou know'st) what sacred Mystery
Vnder this shadow doth in secret ly?
O Death, Sin, Satan, tremble ye not all,
For hate and horror of your dreadfull Fall
So lively figur'd? To behold Gods Bowe
So ready bent to cleave your heart in two?
To see yong Isaac, Pattern of that Prince
Who shall, Sin Satan, Death and Hell, convince?
For hate and horror of your dreadfull Fall
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So ready bent to cleave your heart in two?
To see yong Isaac, Pattern of that Prince
Who shall, Sin Satan, Death and Hell, convince?
Both onely Sons, both sacred Potentates,
Both holy Founders of two mighty States,
Both sanctified, both Saints Progenitors,
Both bear their Cross, both Lamb-like Sufferers,
Both bound, both blame-less, both without reply,
Both by their Fathers are ordain'd to dy
Vpon Mount Sion: which high glorious Mount
Serves vs for Ladder to the Heav'ns to mount,
Restores vs Edens key (the key of Eden,
Lost through the eating of the fruit forbidden,
By wretched Adam, and his weaker Wife)
And blessed bears the holy Tree of life.
Both holy Founders of two mighty States,
Both sanctified, both Saints Progenitors,
Both bear their Cross, both Lamb-like Sufferers,
Both bound, both blame-less, both without reply,
Both by their Fathers are ordain'd to dy
Vpon Mount Sion: which high glorious Mount
Serves vs for Ladder to the Heav'ns to mount,
Restores vs Edens key (the key of Eden,
Lost through the eating of the fruit forbidden,
By wretched Adam, and his weaker Wife)
And blessed bears the holy Tree of life.
Christ dies indeed: but Isaac is repriv'd
(Because Heav'ns Councell otherwise contriv'd)
For, Isaac's blood was no sufficient price
To ransom soules from Hell to Paradise:
The Leprosie of our contagious sin
More powr-full Rivers must be purged in.
(Because Heav'ns Councell otherwise contriv'd)
For, Isaac's blood was no sufficient price
To ransom soules from Hell to Paradise:
The Leprosie of our contagious sin
More powr-full Rivers must be purged in.
FINIS.
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