Divine Meditations upon Several Subjects Whereunto is annexed, God's Love, and Man's Unworthinesse. With Several Divine Ejaculations. Written by John Quarles |
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Adams Lamentation.
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 | Divine Meditations upon Several Subjects |  |
Adams Lamentation.
Undone, undone! what mountain now will hide
My lothed body from the swelling tyde
Of raging Vengeance? Whither shall I fly
T'involve my Soul with true security?
Stretch, stretch my lungs, and roar unto the deep
[illeg.] entertain me: Oh that I might sleep
Within her wavey bowels, till the blast
Of Heav'ns all-shaking thundring Voyce were past.
Oh that some rock would hear my sad request,
And give me burial in her frigid brest!
Oh that my grief extended voyce could cleave
The soild Earth, and make her to receive
My wretched limbs! Oh that some ranging beast
Would prove so courteous to devovr, and feast
Upon my corps! Oh that I could contrive
A way to live, and yet not be alive!
Ah, thus my sorrow-shaken fancy flies
And envies at impossibilities.
I fain would dye, but that I have no heart
To kill my self, and yet I feel a smart
Transcending death; I see I cannot shun
The wrath of Heav'n: Ah, thus I am undone
By my own doing, this it is to eat
Forbidden fruit: Oh most pernicious meat!
I was too rash, and rashly have I taken
A deadly fall, and falling, am forsaken:
I'm bruis'd to death, and yet I cannot dye;
Ah, what can be so much unblest as I?
I am inflamed, and I dayly drench
My Soul with tears and yet I cannot quench
My raging fires; the more I strive t'asswage
And mitigate my pains, the more they rage.
What shall I do, or whither shall I go,
To hide me from this Labyrinth of Wo?
I am compos'd of sorrow, and my veins,
Instead of blood, are fill'd with griping pains.
My lothed body from the swelling tyde
Of raging Vengeance? Whither shall I fly
T'involve my Soul with true security?
Stretch, stretch my lungs, and roar unto the deep
[illeg.] entertain me: Oh that I might sleep
Within her wavey bowels, till the blast
Of Heav'ns all-shaking thundring Voyce were past.
Oh that some rock would hear my sad request,
And give me burial in her frigid brest!
Oh that my grief extended voyce could cleave
The soild Earth, and make her to receive
My wretched limbs! Oh that some ranging beast
Would prove so courteous to devovr, and feast
Upon my corps! Oh that I could contrive
A way to live, and yet not be alive!
48
And envies at impossibilities.
I fain would dye, but that I have no heart
To kill my self, and yet I feel a smart
Transcending death; I see I cannot shun
The wrath of Heav'n: Ah, thus I am undone
By my own doing, this it is to eat
Forbidden fruit: Oh most pernicious meat!
I was too rash, and rashly have I taken
A deadly fall, and falling, am forsaken:
I'm bruis'd to death, and yet I cannot dye;
Ah, what can be so much unblest as I?
I am inflamed, and I dayly drench
My Soul with tears and yet I cannot quench
My raging fires; the more I strive t'asswage
And mitigate my pains, the more they rage.
What shall I do, or whither shall I go,
To hide me from this Labyrinth of Wo?
I am compos'd of sorrow, and my veins,
Instead of blood, are fill'd with griping pains.
Curst be these eyes of mine, which have let in
The lawless tyrant of imperious Sin:
Curst be these lips of mine, which at the suit
Of my fond wife receiv'd forbidden fruit:
Curst be these ears, that entertain'd the charms
Of that inchantress, which procur'd my harms
Curst be these hands of mine, which took, and fed
My greedy Soul, and struck my Conscience dead:
And now my lips, my ears, my hands, my eyes,
Must see, hear, taste, and feel, my miseries.
Oh sad condition! Since there's no relief,
I must be subject to perpetual grief.
Here we will leave poor Adam in the state
Of woe, and thus begin to ruminate.
The lawless tyrant of imperious Sin:
Curst be these lips of mine, which at the suit
Of my fond wife receiv'd forbidden fruit:
Curst be these ears, that entertain'd the charms
Of that inchantress, which procur'd my harms
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My greedy Soul, and struck my Conscience dead:
And now my lips, my ears, my hands, my eyes,
Must see, hear, taste, and feel, my miseries.
Oh sad condition! Since there's no relief,
I must be subject to perpetual grief.
Here we will leave poor Adam in the state
Of woe, and thus begin to ruminate.
Are there not many in this toilsom age
That meditate themselves into a rage,
And wonder how a Serpent could express
Himself, and reason with such readiness.
Being by nature brute, nay and the worst
Of living creatures, that he should at first
Perswade and conquer, and instruct his will,
How to determine both of good and ill?
It would seem strange, if Reason were without
Her wings, and could flie above this doubt:
We may (and yet not stain the truth) declare
It was the work of Satan to ensnare
Frail Eve; although he was not nam'd at all
By Moses in the Hist'ry of the Fall,
It may not trouble us, for we must know,
The bending Serpent was the Devils bow,
By which he shot the arrows of his spite,
Which did [Oh grief to speak it!] flie too right:
And he that dares so high a Crime to act
(Though by another) needs must own the fact:
And this our tongues may never cease to tell,
The Serpent was the Instrument of Hell,
Tun'd to the Devils voice: thus we may see
His fraud, his malice, and his subtiltie.
First when he saw he could not over-turn
The great Creator, he begun to burn
With flames of envy, lab'ring to invade,
And so disturb that order God had made
In the Creation, and to change the features
Of his own Image in the best of Creatures,
That so he may by his too sooth delusion
Make man run headlong to his own confusion:
Thus having laid the platform of his work,
He then begun to agitate, and lurk
For opportunity, which was effected
As soon, nay if not sooner, than expected;
He gave the blow, and by that blow he found
The weakest vessel had the weakest sound;
But yet it strongly eccho'd to the voice
Of his desires, and made him love his choice.
That meditate themselves into a rage,
And wonder how a Serpent could express
Himself, and reason with such readiness.
Being by nature brute, nay and the worst
Of living creatures, that he should at first
Perswade and conquer, and instruct his will,
How to determine both of good and ill?
It would seem strange, if Reason were without
Her wings, and could flie above this doubt:
We may (and yet not stain the truth) declare
It was the work of Satan to ensnare
Frail Eve; although he was not nam'd at all
By Moses in the Hist'ry of the Fall,
It may not trouble us, for we must know,
The bending Serpent was the Devils bow,
By which he shot the arrows of his spite,
Which did [Oh grief to speak it!] flie too right:
50
(Though by another) needs must own the fact:
And this our tongues may never cease to tell,
The Serpent was the Instrument of Hell,
Tun'd to the Devils voice: thus we may see
His fraud, his malice, and his subtiltie.
First when he saw he could not over-turn
The great Creator, he begun to burn
With flames of envy, lab'ring to invade,
And so disturb that order God had made
In the Creation, and to change the features
Of his own Image in the best of Creatures,
That so he may by his too sooth delusion
Make man run headlong to his own confusion:
Thus having laid the platform of his work,
He then begun to agitate, and lurk
For opportunity, which was effected
As soon, nay if not sooner, than expected;
He gave the blow, and by that blow he found
The weakest vessel had the weakest sound;
But yet it strongly eccho'd to the voice
Of his desires, and made him love his choice.
Even as some bold-fac'd General, that dares
To storm a well-man'd Town; at first prepares
A potent Army, which he soon sets down
Before the Walls of the alarum'd Town;
He after views the ruine-threatning-Fort,
Which speaks defiance, and begins to sport
Their severall shots, and with a sad delight
Ingage each other in a bloody fight:
Then if the fierce Besiegers once perceive
Themselves out-strength'd, they think it fit to leave
So hot a work, and for a little space
Desist, and fall upon a weaker place,
Where finding smaller opposition, venture
With greater courage, and at last they enter
The yielding Town, and cruelly begin
To take revenge of them that are within.
To storm a well-man'd Town; at first prepares
A potent Army, which he soon sets down
Before the Walls of the alarum'd Town;
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Which speaks defiance, and begins to sport
Their severall shots, and with a sad delight
Ingage each other in a bloody fight:
Then if the fierce Besiegers once perceive
Themselves out-strength'd, they think it fit to leave
So hot a work, and for a little space
Desist, and fall upon a weaker place,
Where finding smaller opposition, venture
With greater courage, and at last they enter
The yielding Town, and cruelly begin
To take revenge of them that are within.
Even so the grim-look'd, malice-armed Devil,
The base-resolved Generall of Evill,
Perceiving, that he could by no meanes take
The sublime Fort of Heav'n, plots how to make
A fresh attempt, upon a weaker part,
And so prepares to storme the flexive heart
Of unresisting Eve; that could not grapple
With such a Foe, but yielded for an Apple
To those most false Alarums which surrounded
Her, much obedient, and soon confounded
Her inward parts, and gave her Soul a wound,
Which cannot be by time or art made sound,
Except the grand Physitian please to slake
His swelling fury, and some pity take.
The base-resolved Generall of Evill,
Perceiving, that he could by no meanes take
The sublime Fort of Heav'n, plots how to make
A fresh attempt, upon a weaker part,
And so prepares to storme the flexive heart
Of unresisting Eve; that could not grapple
With such a Foe, but yielded for an Apple
To those most false Alarums which surrounded
Her, much obedient, and soon confounded
Her inward parts, and gave her Soul a wound,
Which cannot be by time or art made sound,
Except the grand Physitian please to slake
His swelling fury, and some pity take.
52
Thus are our conquer'd parents sadly left
In a deplor'd condition, and bereft
Of all their comforts; they which have enjoy'd
The life of happinesse, are now destroy'd;
And man (his wretched off-spring) must be made
Sorrowes sad heir, and Peace must not be said
T'inhabit in him. Adams actuall sin
Made ours originall; for we begin,
As soon as made, to entertain the guests
Of sin, and lodge them in our infant-brests.
Now may our weak and despicable eyes
Behold in them, our ample miseries:
Now we may glut the Air with this sad cry,
The root being dead, the branches needs must dye
For Adam's gone beyond all humane call:
Rebellion never ends without a Fall.
In a deplor'd condition, and bereft
Of all their comforts; they which have enjoy'd
The life of happinesse, are now destroy'd;
And man (his wretched off-spring) must be made
Sorrowes sad heir, and Peace must not be said
T'inhabit in him. Adams actuall sin
Made ours originall; for we begin,
As soon as made, to entertain the guests
Of sin, and lodge them in our infant-brests.
Now may our weak and despicable eyes
Behold in them, our ample miseries:
Now we may glut the Air with this sad cry,
The root being dead, the branches needs must dye
For Adam's gone beyond all humane call:
Rebellion never ends without a Fall.
But stay my Muse, here let us rest a while;
Our Journey's long, and 'tis not good to toil
Too much at first, for Reason sayes 'tis best
To pause a time, and take a little rest:
Know then (kind Reader) that my Muse shall meet
Thy serious eyes within another sheet.
Our Journey's long, and 'tis not good to toil
Too much at first, for Reason sayes 'tis best
To pause a time, and take a little rest:
Know then (kind Reader) that my Muse shall meet
Thy serious eyes within another sheet.
| Divine Meditations upon Several Subjects | |