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 |
A paraphrase upon the canticles | ||
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To the Muse, ODE PINDARIC.
I. STROPHE.
But whither bear'st Thou me, O Love,Sovereign Disposer of all things,
Beyond the flight of Verses Wings,
Which after Thee a Course unequal move?
So swift Thy passage is, and wondrous light,
Scarce can I of Thee get the sight;
And all so here, and there,
So unconfin'd, and every where,
Appear Thou dost, and disappear,
A Phantosm Thou would'st reckned be,
But that whole Nature lives alone by Thee.
I. ANTISTROPHE.
From Heav'n to Earth, from Earth againTo Heav'n, who has Loves Journy trace't?
Hail ye bright Stars, which saw him last,
And greater Lustre by his grant obtain!
You last of all his parting Charge receiv'd,
And still to keep it are believ'd,
In times, and seasons thence,
Which you to all his Works dispense,
With kind and wholesome Influence;
And at his Thrones dread Footstool wait,
Illustrious Guards and Messengers of Fate.
I. EPODOS.
“Happy the Man, whose noble Soul“Hath rais'd him to a pitch so high,
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“Undazled can behold with curious Eye;
“And every Mystic note,
“That's in their Mighty Volume wrote,
“As clearly understand,
“As if acquainted with no other hand:
“Yet happier He by far,
“Who like the Kings, first guided by a Star,
“Obtains like Royal Grace,
“Into the Sacred Presence, usher'd thus, to pass!
II. STROPHE.
An Honour done but to a few,As few there be, who care to joyn
Their quest to th' search of Love Divine,
Thither applying, what from thence they drew;
Heav'ns Priests, and Loves, who have the lucky skill,
Both Services at once to fill;
Nor like the most all day,
Or Idle stand, or play,
And gaze tho' on Heaven their Age away:
Of Love, who largely boast the Name,
But never saw his Light, or felt his Flame.
II. ANTISTROPHE.
At once both Services he fill'd,Whom the Muse sings, both knows the best
Of any, who e're those Gifts possest,
In Books so different so divinely skill'd;
Natures and God's, the Gloss that, this the Text,
And read together unperplext:
While that, by' it self alone.
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But Altars rears to' a God unknown;
To th' True this does a way provide,
But difficult to walk without a Guide.
II. EPODOS.
Not SETH, whose Pillars FabulousSurviv'd the all-devouring Flood,
Taught the New World the Half he teaches us,
Were all he taught as well but understood:
Tho when of Love He treats,
And His high Mysteries repeats,
All hear, and what is heard
By all for certain Truth is so rever'd,
The ravisht Soul resents
Its teadious stay, and future joys prevents;
Rapt in Ecstatic Fires
To the Divine Aboads, almost ith' Flame expires.
III. STROPHE.
Witness Thou Sarums sacred Pile,Which from the day Thou first cam'st down
From the parcht neighbouring Hill, the Town
Attending Thee, and shouting all the while,
None happier saw'st than that which made Thee His,
And Him Thine with united bliss.
Thy Streams, Thy Fields, Thy Towers,
By the' Graces led, and Hours,
Daunc'd to their Genius Crown'd with Flowers:
Thy very Children bless that time
And their new Aera from its date sublime.
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III. ANTISTROPHE.
Not but that worthy Thee, and Verse,There have been Prælats heretofore,
(Tho none so Worthy) had like store
Of sacred Poets been, as now rehearse.
But all (alas!) are in Oblivion drown'd,
Unsung laid underground,
Because the Muses ayd,
To all th' Acquists they made,
Or lacking was, or else unpray'd:
And their fond hopes of Future glory,
Or to dumb Walls confin'd, or doubtful story.
III. EPODOS.
So Thy first Fathers, so others fare'dBefore, and since Thy great Translation;
And if to' escape 'twas not for some so hard,
The Works they wrote, were their Fames best Foundation;
In which an Age they live,
That Brass, and Marble shall survive.
So Jewel ever lives,
And life to' his very Enemy gives.
So shall Thy Reverend Lord
Long hence be Thine, and His own best Record.
Hast to Him Muse, and take
At 'his Knees that blessing, which may Thee Immortal make.
A paraphrase upon the canticles | ||