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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 | Divine Meditations upon Several Subjects |  |
He that can break a rocky heart in twain,
And re-unite it (if he please) again;
He that can part the boiling waves, and stand
Upon the Seas, as on the dryest Land;
He whose celestiall power can make the graves
To open, and command their slumb'ring slaves
To rise; nay more, to stand; nay more, to walk;
Nay more (if more then this may be) to talk:
He that can make a Whale to entertain
A Jonah, and to spue him out again;
He whose Almighty power can unlock
The flinty bowels, of a scragged Rock,
And make her headlong-gushing streams abound
To wash the bosom of the thirsty ground;
He that can transmutate by power divine
The poorest water into richest Wine;
He that can curb rude Boreas, and asswage
The lawless passion of the Oceans rage;
He that can rain-down Manna to supply
The craving stomacks of mortality;
He that can, like an all-commanding God,
Make Almonds flourish from a sapless rod;
He that can make the Sun and Moon stand still,
Or run according to his sacred Will;
He that sav'd a Daniel from the paws
Of Lyons, and can muzzle up their jaws;
He that can make the greedy Ravens carry
Food to his Servants like a Commissary;
He that can, with an unresisted hand,
Dash fire into Ice, and counter-mand
The wanton flames, and charm them, that they dare
But burn his servants cords, and not their hair;
He that can cause ten thousand to be fed
With two small fishes, and five loaves of bread;
He that can clothe himself with fire, and name
Himself, I AM, and make a bush to flame
Without consuming; He that can convert
A Rod into a Serpent, and not hurt;
He that can make his visage shine so bright,
That not a Moses can behold the light;
He that can strike a hand with leprosie,
And cure it in the twinkling of an eye;
He that can in a moment cut and break
Tongue-tying cords, and make the dumb to speak;
He that can out of unregarded stones
Raise unto Abraham many little ones;
He that can heal the Cripple with a touch,
And free him from the thraldom of his Crouch;
He that can cure the deaf, and can expell
A thousand Devils in despite of Hell;
He that can perfect what he first begun,
Expects that man should say, Thy will be done.
Consider Man, and thou shalt finde it true,
Heav'n can doe all, but what he will not doe:
Think not, because thou art of low estate,
That he will scorn to love, and love to hate:
Remember Dives, whose unsumm'd up store
Improv'd so much, untill he prov'd as poor
As ever Job was: Job! unhappy I
To speak it, he was rich in poverty;
Heav'n made poor Job so rich, that Satans wealth
Could purchase nothing from him, but his health,
And that corporeal too; he could not boast
His bargain, for 'twas Job that purchas'd most.
Happy is he that can at last inherit
Riches obtain'd by an impov'rish'd spirit:
We'd better lick with Lazarus the crumbs,
Then gripe with Dives for Soul-damning sums.
Welth cannot bride the flames, yet scraps may feed
The hungry wretch; he that has wealth, may need
The crumbs of comfort: David did condole
Th'abundant famine of his hungry Soul:
Gods love's not mercenary, to be sold
For brain-distracting, heart-confounding gold.
Hast thou not heard (O man) the heav'nly cry
Of him that says, Ye that are poor, come buy,
Come buy of me; your pen'worth shall be such,
That for a little you shall purchase much.
Here's Love that's spun unto the smallest thred,
Tho thou want'st mony, yet thou maist have bread:
Do thou but ask, thou shalt not fail to have;
For God's more free to give, then thou to crave:
Fear not to ask of him, whose ready ear,
Before thy tongue can ask, is apt to hear.
Heav'n loves the language of a broken heart,
And he will harken, and with joy impart
His love unto thee, and his milk and wine,
Without the price of mony shall be thine.
Th'ingrated pris'ner, whose dull tongue is whet
With sharp'ned hunger, will not fear to let
His language fly to every eare that comes
Within his audience; and he alwayes sums
The totalls of his grief in hungry words,
Whilst thousands passe along, but few affords
The blessing of an Alms perhaps they'l grieve,
And seem to pity, but will not relieve
Yet will he not desist, but hourly cry,
Bread, bread, for Heav'ns sake bread, or else I dye.
Hard hearted Man, why wilt thou not relent
To hear thy brother, almost hunger-spent,
Craving thy succour? Where's thy love become?
Because th'art deaf, ah! woldst thou have him dumb?
Or dost thou think, because thy panch is fill'd,
He cannot hunger? He that first distill'd
Those mercies on thy head, expects that thou
Shouldst feed thy brother with a cheerfull brow;
Say not thou canst not give, thy treasure's light:
But let thy heart record the widowes mite,
So Heav'n will fill thy Cisterns to the brim,
And feed thy Soul, because thou hast fed him.
And re-unite it (if he please) again;
He that can part the boiling waves, and stand
Upon the Seas, as on the dryest Land;
He whose celestiall power can make the graves
To open, and command their slumb'ring slaves
To rise; nay more, to stand; nay more, to walk;
Nay more (if more then this may be) to talk:
He that can make a Whale to entertain
A Jonah, and to spue him out again;
He whose Almighty power can unlock
The flinty bowels, of a scragged Rock,
63
To wash the bosom of the thirsty ground;
He that can transmutate by power divine
The poorest water into richest Wine;
He that can curb rude Boreas, and asswage
The lawless passion of the Oceans rage;
He that can rain-down Manna to supply
The craving stomacks of mortality;
He that can, like an all-commanding God,
Make Almonds flourish from a sapless rod;
He that can make the Sun and Moon stand still,
Or run according to his sacred Will;
He that sav'd a Daniel from the paws
Of Lyons, and can muzzle up their jaws;
He that can make the greedy Ravens carry
Food to his Servants like a Commissary;
He that can, with an unresisted hand,
Dash fire into Ice, and counter-mand
The wanton flames, and charm them, that they dare
But burn his servants cords, and not their hair;
He that can cause ten thousand to be fed
With two small fishes, and five loaves of bread;
He that can clothe himself with fire, and name
Himself, I AM, and make a bush to flame
Without consuming; He that can convert
A Rod into a Serpent, and not hurt;
64
That not a Moses can behold the light;
He that can strike a hand with leprosie,
And cure it in the twinkling of an eye;
He that can in a moment cut and break
Tongue-tying cords, and make the dumb to speak;
He that can out of unregarded stones
Raise unto Abraham many little ones;
He that can heal the Cripple with a touch,
And free him from the thraldom of his Crouch;
He that can cure the deaf, and can expell
A thousand Devils in despite of Hell;
He that can perfect what he first begun,
Expects that man should say, Thy will be done.
Consider Man, and thou shalt finde it true,
Heav'n can doe all, but what he will not doe:
Think not, because thou art of low estate,
That he will scorn to love, and love to hate:
Remember Dives, whose unsumm'd up store
Improv'd so much, untill he prov'd as poor
As ever Job was: Job! unhappy I
To speak it, he was rich in poverty;
Heav'n made poor Job so rich, that Satans wealth
Could purchase nothing from him, but his health,
And that corporeal too; he could not boast
His bargain, for 'twas Job that purchas'd most.
65
Riches obtain'd by an impov'rish'd spirit:
We'd better lick with Lazarus the crumbs,
Then gripe with Dives for Soul-damning sums.
Welth cannot bride the flames, yet scraps may feed
The hungry wretch; he that has wealth, may need
The crumbs of comfort: David did condole
Th'abundant famine of his hungry Soul:
Gods love's not mercenary, to be sold
For brain-distracting, heart-confounding gold.
Hast thou not heard (O man) the heav'nly cry
Of him that says, Ye that are poor, come buy,
Come buy of me; your pen'worth shall be such,
That for a little you shall purchase much.
Here's Love that's spun unto the smallest thred,
Tho thou want'st mony, yet thou maist have bread:
Do thou but ask, thou shalt not fail to have;
For God's more free to give, then thou to crave:
Fear not to ask of him, whose ready ear,
Before thy tongue can ask, is apt to hear.
Heav'n loves the language of a broken heart,
And he will harken, and with joy impart
His love unto thee, and his milk and wine,
Without the price of mony shall be thine.
Th'ingrated pris'ner, whose dull tongue is whet
With sharp'ned hunger, will not fear to let
66
Within his audience; and he alwayes sums
The totalls of his grief in hungry words,
Whilst thousands passe along, but few affords
The blessing of an Alms perhaps they'l grieve,
And seem to pity, but will not relieve
Yet will he not desist, but hourly cry,
Bread, bread, for Heav'ns sake bread, or else I dye.
Hard hearted Man, why wilt thou not relent
To hear thy brother, almost hunger-spent,
Craving thy succour? Where's thy love become?
Because th'art deaf, ah! woldst thou have him dumb?
Or dost thou think, because thy panch is fill'd,
He cannot hunger? He that first distill'd
Those mercies on thy head, expects that thou
Shouldst feed thy brother with a cheerfull brow;
Say not thou canst not give, thy treasure's light:
But let thy heart record the widowes mite,
So Heav'n will fill thy Cisterns to the brim,
And feed thy Soul, because thou hast fed him.
Should the Grandfather of true Charity
Passe by the gates, and heare thee beg and cry,
And not relieve thee; should he slight thy prayers,
And scorn to take a survey of thy tears;
Wouldst thou not grieve, and pine thy self to dust,
And almost say thy God was much unjust,
To turn away his ears from thy complaint,
And disrespect thy pray'rs, and let thee faint
For want of Food? Ah, whither wouldst thou fly
To feed thy famish'd Soul, should Heav'n deny?
But ah he cannot, for his melting Soul
Is alwayes free, and willing to condole
The sad conditions of distressed Man,
Who only strives to doe, but what he can
To contradict him; yet he'l heare our grief:
In multitudes of mercies lies relief.
When our impris'ned Souls peep through the grates
Of this corrupting Earth, our God dilates
Himself unto us, and he sends us meat
From the rich store-house of his lofty Seat;
He hears; and hearing pitties; pittying, sends;
And sending, blesses; and with blessing ends.
Passe by the gates, and heare thee beg and cry,
And not relieve thee; should he slight thy prayers,
And scorn to take a survey of thy tears;
Wouldst thou not grieve, and pine thy self to dust,
And almost say thy God was much unjust,
67
And disrespect thy pray'rs, and let thee faint
For want of Food? Ah, whither wouldst thou fly
To feed thy famish'd Soul, should Heav'n deny?
But ah he cannot, for his melting Soul
Is alwayes free, and willing to condole
The sad conditions of distressed Man,
Who only strives to doe, but what he can
To contradict him; yet he'l heare our grief:
In multitudes of mercies lies relief.
When our impris'ned Souls peep through the grates
Of this corrupting Earth, our God dilates
Himself unto us, and he sends us meat
From the rich store-house of his lofty Seat;
He hears; and hearing pitties; pittying, sends;
And sending, blesses; and with blessing ends.
Even as the Sun, which every day surrounds
The sublime Globe, and pries into the bounds
Of this dark Center; lets his Beams reflect
Upon a molehill with as much respect
As on a Mountaine; for his glorious Beams
Shine alwayes with equivalent extreams.
Even so the great and powerfull three in one,
That sits upon his all-inlight'ning Throne,
Does not deny to let his mercy crown
The poorest Peasant with as much renown
As the most stateliest Emperor; though he
Invests his body with more dignitie,
Yet he's but earth, and must at last decay,
For Prince and Peasant go the self-same way;
Their earth must turn to earth, their Souls return
To him that gave them, or for ever burn;
There's no distinction, one infused breath
Made them alike, and both must live in death,
Or everlasting life; both must commence
Divines in Heav'n; ther's no preheminence,
But all equality, all must express,
With equal Joy, their equal Happiness.
Rouze up dull man, and let thy wak'ned Soul
Be vigilate; oh let thy thoughts enroul
The love of God, engrave it in thy brest,
That his resounding tongue may read thee blest.
O let thy sighs, like Pens, and let thy tears
Like Ink, transcribe the Love, th'indulgent cares
Of thy Creator, that himselfe may find
(Within th'unblotted volume of thy mind)
Himselfe recorded, so will he imbrace
Thy spotless Soul, and fill thee with his grace.
Incline thine ears, and let thy heart rejoyce
To hear the strains of his harmonious voyce:
Harken, and thou shalt hear his Prophets sing
Th'admired Mercies of the glorious King.
Thus saith the great, and ever-living One,
That rules the heav'ns, & governs earth alone,
Thus saith the Lord, that takes delight to dwel
Amongst his Saints, that formed Israel,
Created Jacob, let thy sorrows flee
Out of thy brest, I have redeemed thee:
'Twas I that made thy clouded visage shine,
And call'd thee by my Name, for thou art mine.
I will be with thee, when thy feet shall wade
Thorow the waters; I will be thy aid:
Ile make thee walk thorow rivers, and the waves
Shall prove ambitious to become thy slaves:
And when thou walkest through the raging fire,
Th'unruly flames shall not presume t'aspire
Or kindle on thy garments. I alone
The Lord thy God, and Israels holy One,
And thy dear Saviour, that was always true,
Gave Egypt, Seba, and Ethiopia too,
To ransom thee; for thou wert my delight,
And always Pretious in my gratious sight:
Honors were heap'd upon thee, and thou wert
The tender love of my affecting heart;
Therefore even I, that am well pleas'd, will give
People for thy dear sake, that thou mayst live.
Fear not, for I am with thee, and Ile stand
In thy defence, and my all-grasping hand
Shall bring thy seed from the remotest places,
And fill thee with my satisfying graces.
The sublime Globe, and pries into the bounds
Of this dark Center; lets his Beams reflect
Upon a molehill with as much respect
As on a Mountaine; for his glorious Beams
Shine alwayes with equivalent extreams.
Even so the great and powerfull three in one,
That sits upon his all-inlight'ning Throne,
Does not deny to let his mercy crown
The poorest Peasant with as much renown
68
Invests his body with more dignitie,
Yet he's but earth, and must at last decay,
For Prince and Peasant go the self-same way;
Their earth must turn to earth, their Souls return
To him that gave them, or for ever burn;
There's no distinction, one infused breath
Made them alike, and both must live in death,
Or everlasting life; both must commence
Divines in Heav'n; ther's no preheminence,
But all equality, all must express,
With equal Joy, their equal Happiness.
Rouze up dull man, and let thy wak'ned Soul
Be vigilate; oh let thy thoughts enroul
The love of God, engrave it in thy brest,
That his resounding tongue may read thee blest.
O let thy sighs, like Pens, and let thy tears
Like Ink, transcribe the Love, th'indulgent cares
Of thy Creator, that himselfe may find
(Within th'unblotted volume of thy mind)
Himselfe recorded, so will he imbrace
Thy spotless Soul, and fill thee with his grace.
Incline thine ears, and let thy heart rejoyce
To hear the strains of his harmonious voyce:
Harken, and thou shalt hear his Prophets sing
Th'admired Mercies of the glorious King.
69
That rules the heav'ns, & governs earth alone,
Thus saith the Lord, that takes delight to dwel
Amongst his Saints, that formed Israel,
Created Jacob, let thy sorrows flee
Out of thy brest, I have redeemed thee:
'Twas I that made thy clouded visage shine,
And call'd thee by my Name, for thou art mine.
I will be with thee, when thy feet shall wade
Thorow the waters; I will be thy aid:
Ile make thee walk thorow rivers, and the waves
Shall prove ambitious to become thy slaves:
And when thou walkest through the raging fire,
Th'unruly flames shall not presume t'aspire
Or kindle on thy garments. I alone
The Lord thy God, and Israels holy One,
And thy dear Saviour, that was always true,
Gave Egypt, Seba, and Ethiopia too,
To ransom thee; for thou wert my delight,
And always Pretious in my gratious sight:
Honors were heap'd upon thee, and thou wert
The tender love of my affecting heart;
Therefore even I, that am well pleas'd, will give
People for thy dear sake, that thou mayst live.
Fear not, for I am with thee, and Ile stand
In thy defence, and my all-grasping hand
70
And fill thee with my satisfying graces.
6. My tongue shall call unto the North, and say
Unto the South, Give, and they shall obey;
Bring from a far my sons and daughters all,
Hear my loud voyce, be active when I call.
Unto the South, Give, and they shall obey;
Bring from a far my sons and daughters all,
Hear my loud voyce, be active when I call.
7. I have created them, and I proclaime
They shall be call'd and honour'd by my Name.
I'le usher forth the blind, and make them see
The splendent Glories of my Majestie:
I'le cure the deaf, and make their hearts rejoyce
To hear the Ecchoes of my warbling voyce.
Thus hath our God unty'd the tongues, and broke
His Prophets lips; thus have his Prophets spoke:
And wilt thou be (O Man) so much obdure,
As not to credit him that will assure
Perpetuall happinesse? Thou canst not ask
That which he cannot give; do but unmask
Thy shamefac'd Soul, that so thou mayst discry
Jehovahs mercies with a faithfull eye:
Descant upon his promises, advise
With thine own thoughts, let Reason make thee wise;
Inspect thy self, weigh well thine own condition,
And thou shalt find thou want'st a good Physition
To cure thy maculated Soul: Alas!
Thou art like water stop'd up in a glass,
So weakly fortify'd, and fenc'd about,
That one weak knock soon lets the pris'ner out.
Vaine lump of vanity, what can this Earth
Afford thy thoughts more then a short-liv'd mirth?
A mirth that fills thee with deluding toyes,
And like a Tyrant afterwards destroyes.
Dot'st thou on Earth? For what? Because her pleasure
Can guild thy wanton eye? Because her treasure
Can cram thy bags? Because her Sirens song
Can ravish thee? Because her power can throng
Thy Soul with luxury? Because her charms
Can court thee with delight? Because her arms
Can pleasingly imbrace thee, and impost
Thy heart with gold, and lull thee, when th'ast lost
Thy self in sleep? Is this the little All
That this great world can boast of? Must we call
These things our pleasures? No, they'l prove our cares,
Our golden fetters, and our silken snares
These are the Joyes we love, these are the things
That make us fly with our Icarian wings
Up to Ambitions Court, and there presume
To gaze so long, untill our waxen plume
Dissolve with heat, and like presumptuous slaves
Tumble our selves into the raging waves
Of speedy Ruine; Ruine's all that we
Must hope t'obtaine from Earths base treasurie.
Let's scorn her wealth, and say, O Earth, thou art
A painted Mistresse with a rotten heart:
Let's hate to love, that we may love to hate
Th'unconstant glory of her fickle state.
They shall be call'd and honour'd by my Name.
I'le usher forth the blind, and make them see
The splendent Glories of my Majestie:
I'le cure the deaf, and make their hearts rejoyce
To hear the Ecchoes of my warbling voyce.
Thus hath our God unty'd the tongues, and broke
His Prophets lips; thus have his Prophets spoke:
And wilt thou be (O Man) so much obdure,
As not to credit him that will assure
Perpetuall happinesse? Thou canst not ask
That which he cannot give; do but unmask
Thy shamefac'd Soul, that so thou mayst discry
Jehovahs mercies with a faithfull eye:
Descant upon his promises, advise
With thine own thoughts, let Reason make thee wise;
Inspect thy self, weigh well thine own condition,
And thou shalt find thou want'st a good Physition
To cure thy maculated Soul: Alas!
Thou art like water stop'd up in a glass,
71
That one weak knock soon lets the pris'ner out.
Vaine lump of vanity, what can this Earth
Afford thy thoughts more then a short-liv'd mirth?
A mirth that fills thee with deluding toyes,
And like a Tyrant afterwards destroyes.
Dot'st thou on Earth? For what? Because her pleasure
Can guild thy wanton eye? Because her treasure
Can cram thy bags? Because her Sirens song
Can ravish thee? Because her power can throng
Thy Soul with luxury? Because her charms
Can court thee with delight? Because her arms
Can pleasingly imbrace thee, and impost
Thy heart with gold, and lull thee, when th'ast lost
Thy self in sleep? Is this the little All
That this great world can boast of? Must we call
These things our pleasures? No, they'l prove our cares,
Our golden fetters, and our silken snares
These are the Joyes we love, these are the things
That make us fly with our Icarian wings
Up to Ambitions Court, and there presume
To gaze so long, untill our waxen plume
Dissolve with heat, and like presumptuous slaves
Tumble our selves into the raging waves
Of speedy Ruine; Ruine's all that we
Must hope t'obtaine from Earths base treasurie.
72
A painted Mistresse with a rotten heart:
Let's hate to love, that we may love to hate
Th'unconstant glory of her fickle state.
Even as the subtle Crocodile prepares
Her flatt'ring heart, and eye-commanding tears,
To wooe her prey to come within the power
Of her command, that so she may devour
With more facility, and make her jaws
To execute by her tyrannike Laws:
Even so this World, whose Crocodile-like eyes
Are always flowing, wanting no supplies
Of gliding tears to wash the rugged faces
Of her designs with falsifying graces,
That so she may by her too smooth delusion
Make Man the Author of his own confusion.
Frail flesh and blood, how canst thou take delight
To love this world, that cannot give a mite
Of comfort to thee, but will still intrap,
And daily lull thee in her lustful lap.
Shee'l rock thy soul to ruine, and shee'l spawn
Basenesse into thee; shee'l deceive, and fawn
Upon thy heart, and with her guilded baits
Shee'l hook thy Soul unto the worst of fates:
There's nothing in her that deserves the name
Of Constancie; her glory is her shame.
Smile at her tears, for every drop she vents
Harbors ten thousand thousand discontents:
Believe her not; but when she speaks the best,
Believe the worst; and if she promise rest,
Assure thy selfe of trouble; if she chance
To promise treasure, let thy thoughts advance
Above her promises, contemn her dross,
For what thou gain'st from her will be thy loss:
Let not her wealthy Do natives perswade
Thy heart t'accept; when once thou art betray'd
There's no resistance: They that well advise
Before they act, deserve the name of wise:
But they that study in her frantick Schools
May prove her wise men; but Heav'ns out-cast fools.
Aske her the way to Bliss: try if her skill
Can give directions, aske her if she will
Fill thee with blest Eternity, conjure
Her helpless aid, see if she can assure
A safety to thee, ask her if she can
Prescribe a cure for a despairing Man;
Tell her thy Soul is sick, thou canst not live
A minute longer; see if she can give
A Cordial to thee, see if she can heal
A broken heart; see if she can reveal
Celestial Joys unto thee, and impart
A heav'nly comfort to thy grieved heart:
If so, cheer up, and prosecute thy mirth,
And say there is no other Heaven but Earth,
Do thus (fond Man) and thou shalt quickly see
A baffl'd World, that cannot answer thee,
But must be silent, for she cannot plead
For her own self; she knowes she cannot lead
The way to Heav'n, she's but a bad director,
A base Believer, and a worse Protector.
Her flatt'ring heart, and eye-commanding tears,
To wooe her prey to come within the power
Of her command, that so she may devour
With more facility, and make her jaws
To execute by her tyrannike Laws:
Even so this World, whose Crocodile-like eyes
Are always flowing, wanting no supplies
Of gliding tears to wash the rugged faces
Of her designs with falsifying graces,
That so she may by her too smooth delusion
Make Man the Author of his own confusion.
Frail flesh and blood, how canst thou take delight
To love this world, that cannot give a mite
Of comfort to thee, but will still intrap,
And daily lull thee in her lustful lap.
Shee'l rock thy soul to ruine, and shee'l spawn
Basenesse into thee; shee'l deceive, and fawn
Upon thy heart, and with her guilded baits
Shee'l hook thy Soul unto the worst of fates:
There's nothing in her that deserves the name
Of Constancie; her glory is her shame.
73
Harbors ten thousand thousand discontents:
Believe her not; but when she speaks the best,
Believe the worst; and if she promise rest,
Assure thy selfe of trouble; if she chance
To promise treasure, let thy thoughts advance
Above her promises, contemn her dross,
For what thou gain'st from her will be thy loss:
Let not her wealthy Do natives perswade
Thy heart t'accept; when once thou art betray'd
There's no resistance: They that well advise
Before they act, deserve the name of wise:
But they that study in her frantick Schools
May prove her wise men; but Heav'ns out-cast fools.
Aske her the way to Bliss: try if her skill
Can give directions, aske her if she will
Fill thee with blest Eternity, conjure
Her helpless aid, see if she can assure
A safety to thee, ask her if she can
Prescribe a cure for a despairing Man;
Tell her thy Soul is sick, thou canst not live
A minute longer; see if she can give
A Cordial to thee, see if she can heal
A broken heart; see if she can reveal
Celestial Joys unto thee, and impart
A heav'nly comfort to thy grieved heart:
74
And say there is no other Heaven but Earth,
Do thus (fond Man) and thou shalt quickly see
A baffl'd World, that cannot answer thee,
But must be silent, for she cannot plead
For her own self; she knowes she cannot lead
The way to Heav'n, she's but a bad director,
A base Believer, and a worse Protector.
Thus shalt thou make her envy swell and burst,
And, like the Basilisk, discover'd first,
She needs must dye; but if she should discover
Thee first, farewell, th'art murder'd by thy lover.
Then shalt thou heare the Soul-amazing tone
Of him that sits on his immortall Throne,
Pronounce against thee at the dreadfull day
Of thy accounts; thus shalt thou hear him say:
And, like the Basilisk, discover'd first,
She needs must dye; but if she should discover
Thee first, farewell, th'art murder'd by thy lover.
Then shalt thou heare the Soul-amazing tone
Of him that sits on his immortall Throne,
Pronounce against thee at the dreadfull day
Of thy accounts; thus shalt thou hear him say:
Depart, ye cursed off-springs of a father
As curst as you, avoyd my sight, go gather
The fruits of your deserts; you have forgot
The God that made you, and I know ye not:
See if the world, within whose folding arms
You alwayes slept, can quit thee from the harms
That must ensue; see if her flatt'ring power
Can shelter thee, from the o're-flowing shower
Of my fast-dropping rage; see if her brest
Can entertain thee with eternall rest.
Begone, begone, my fury hates to see
Such Miscreants; had you remember'd me,
I now had known you; had you made me eat
When I was forc'd to importune for meat,
I now would blesse you with celestiall dyet,
And crown your Souls with everlasting quiet:
Had you but quench'd my raging thirst, or gave
A single drop, that very drop should save
Your death-adjudged Souls, and you should sup
Abundant comforts from my streaming cup:
Had you (sad sons of vengeance) but supply'd
My nakednesse with garments, when I cry'd
And call'd upon your charity to send
Reliefe unto me, I had been your friend;
Or had your (more then marble) hearts reliev'd
M'impris'ned body, now ye had not griev'd:
Had you, you world-affined Souls, addrest
Your selves unto me when I was opprest
With ling'ring sicknesse, then I would have fed
Your Souls (which now are starv'd) with heav'nly bread;
But since you have not done it unto those
Which I esteem'd, ye'ave prov'd your selves my foes:
Therefore begone, let darknesse be your lot,
Learn to remember that ye have forgot
My mercies; go, and let my judgments dwell
Within your guilty hearts; let black-mouth'd Hell
Plague you with torments, let him always lash
Your hearts with flames, until ye howl, and gnash
Your teeth together; Go, depart my sight,
And taste the fruits of everlasting night.
As curst as you, avoyd my sight, go gather
The fruits of your deserts; you have forgot
The God that made you, and I know ye not:
See if the world, within whose folding arms
You alwayes slept, can quit thee from the harms
That must ensue; see if her flatt'ring power
Can shelter thee, from the o're-flowing shower
Of my fast-dropping rage; see if her brest
Can entertain thee with eternall rest.
75
Such Miscreants; had you remember'd me,
I now had known you; had you made me eat
When I was forc'd to importune for meat,
I now would blesse you with celestiall dyet,
And crown your Souls with everlasting quiet:
Had you but quench'd my raging thirst, or gave
A single drop, that very drop should save
Your death-adjudged Souls, and you should sup
Abundant comforts from my streaming cup:
Had you (sad sons of vengeance) but supply'd
My nakednesse with garments, when I cry'd
And call'd upon your charity to send
Reliefe unto me, I had been your friend;
Or had your (more then marble) hearts reliev'd
M'impris'ned body, now ye had not griev'd:
Had you, you world-affined Souls, addrest
Your selves unto me when I was opprest
With ling'ring sicknesse, then I would have fed
Your Souls (which now are starv'd) with heav'nly bread;
But since you have not done it unto those
Which I esteem'd, ye'ave prov'd your selves my foes:
Therefore begone, let darknesse be your lot,
Learn to remember that ye have forgot
My mercies; go, and let my judgments dwell
Within your guilty hearts; let black-mouth'd Hell
76
Your hearts with flames, until ye howl, and gnash
Your teeth together; Go, depart my sight,
And taste the fruits of everlasting night.
But as for you, whose better deeds have found
Acceptance in my heart, ye shall be crown'd
With unremoved happinesse, because
Ye have obsequiously perform'd my Laws;
You fed my craving stomach, and you cloath'd
My naked body, and you have not loath'd
To visit me; and when I was a stranger,
Ye took me in, and guarded me from danger:
Go then my Lambs, and let your Oratory
Proclaim the greatnesse of your Fathers glory:
Go revel in my Courts; no discontent
Shall breed a faction in my Parliament:
Ile passe an Act of Peace, and it shall be
Sign'd by the hand of my Eternitie.
My tongue shall style you blessed, and my voyce
Shall raise your Souls, and teach you to rejoyce:
Your unexcised pleasures shall abound
To infinite; your ravisht hearts shall sound
The depth of my delights; all things shall move
Within the sphere of uncontrouled Love:
Be well assur'd, your pleasures shall be great;
Then fly from Judgement to my Mercy-seat,
And there rejoyce with a triumphant mirth;
My Love shall live with them that hated Earth.
Acceptance in my heart, ye shall be crown'd
With unremoved happinesse, because
Ye have obsequiously perform'd my Laws;
You fed my craving stomach, and you cloath'd
My naked body, and you have not loath'd
To visit me; and when I was a stranger,
Ye took me in, and guarded me from danger:
Go then my Lambs, and let your Oratory
Proclaim the greatnesse of your Fathers glory:
Go revel in my Courts; no discontent
Shall breed a faction in my Parliament:
Ile passe an Act of Peace, and it shall be
Sign'd by the hand of my Eternitie.
My tongue shall style you blessed, and my voyce
Shall raise your Souls, and teach you to rejoyce:
Your unexcised pleasures shall abound
To infinite; your ravisht hearts shall sound
The depth of my delights; all things shall move
Within the sphere of uncontrouled Love:
Be well assur'd, your pleasures shall be great;
Then fly from Judgement to my Mercy-seat,
77
My Love shall live with them that hated Earth.
Obdurate Man, here, here thou mayst descry
Judgment and Mercy, one to terrifie,
The other to perswade; and yet wilt thou
Prove adamantine, and refuse to bow
To thy Redeemer? Canst thou ruminate
Upon his Love, and yet wilt not delate
Thy Soul unto him? Is thy brazen heart
Impenetrable? Will no flaming dart
Of true affection enter? Hast thou vow'd
To stop thy ears? Shall Mercy call aloud,
And thou not hear? Shall thund'ring Judgments rattle
About thy ears, and yet wilt thou imbattle
Against the Lord of Hosts? Wilt thou invoke
Perpetual Vengeance to intail a stroke
Upon thy stubborn heart? What, dost thou think
Hell's voyd of flames, or that thy God will wink
At thine enormities? Go, rally all
Thy thoughts together, and discreetly fall
Into a serious study.—
Judgment and Mercy, one to terrifie,
The other to perswade; and yet wilt thou
Prove adamantine, and refuse to bow
To thy Redeemer? Canst thou ruminate
Upon his Love, and yet wilt not delate
Thy Soul unto him? Is thy brazen heart
Impenetrable? Will no flaming dart
Of true affection enter? Hast thou vow'd
To stop thy ears? Shall Mercy call aloud,
And thou not hear? Shall thund'ring Judgments rattle
About thy ears, and yet wilt thou imbattle
Against the Lord of Hosts? Wilt thou invoke
Perpetual Vengeance to intail a stroke
Upon thy stubborn heart? What, dost thou think
Hell's voyd of flames, or that thy God will wink
At thine enormities? Go, rally all
Thy thoughts together, and discreetly fall
Into a serious study.—
| Divine Meditations upon Several Subjects | |