Clarastella Together with Poems occasional, Elegies, Epigrams, Satyrs. By Robert Heath |
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On the unusual cold and rainie weather in the Summer. 1648.
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 | Clarastella |  |
9
On the unusual cold and rainie weather in the Summer. 1648.
Why puts our Grandame Nature on
Her winter coat, e'r summers done?
What hath she got an ague fit?
And thinks to make us hov'ring sit
Over her lazie Embers? else why should
Old Hyems freeze our vernal bloud?
Or as we each day, grow older,
Doth the world wax wan and colder?
'Tis so: See how nakt Charitie
Sterves in this frozen age! whilst we
Have no other heat but glow-worm zeal
Whose warmth we see but cannot feel.
All chang'd are Ceres golden hairs
To clouded grey, and nought appears
In Flora's dresse: our hopes do die
And oth' sudden blasted lie.
Heav'ns glorious lamps do wast away,
The Elements themselves decay,
And the mixt bodies mutinie
By a rebellious sympathie;
Whilst the distemper'd world grows pale,
And sickning threatens death to all:
Her winter coat, e'r summers done?
What hath she got an ague fit?
And thinks to make us hov'ring sit
Over her lazie Embers? else why should
Old Hyems freeze our vernal bloud?
Or as we each day, grow older,
Doth the world wax wan and colder?
'Tis so: See how nakt Charitie
Sterves in this frozen age! whilst we
Have no other heat but glow-worm zeal
Whose warmth we see but cannot feel.
All chang'd are Ceres golden hairs
To clouded grey, and nought appears
In Flora's dresse: our hopes do die
And oth' sudden blasted lie.
Heav'ns glorious lamps do wast away,
The Elements themselves decay,
And the mixt bodies mutinie
By a rebellious sympathie;
Whilst the distemper'd world grows pale,
And sickning threatens death to all:
So in an instant waters swept
The old worlds monsters, whilst they wept
It's funeral: but the new world's sins
Are so deep di'd no floud can rinse.
Nothing but lightning and Heav'ns fire
Can purge our pestilential aire.
The old worlds monsters, whilst they wept
It's funeral: but the new world's sins
Are so deep di'd no floud can rinse.
Nothing but lightning and Heav'ns fire
Can purge our pestilential aire.
| Clarastella | |