Self-Conflict or, The powerful Motions between the Flesh & Spirit. Represented In the Person and upon the occasion of Joseph, when By Potiphar's Wife He was enticed to Adultery. A Divine Poem, Written originally in Low-Dutch, by Jacob Catts ... and from thence Translated |
Self-Conflict | ||
SEPHYRA.
No way, I see, there's for me to prevail,
This Spirit or I must with might assail;
For all what I produce, and on thee gain,
This wind repels, and renders quite in vain.
I'm bent against this Spirit with fierce hate.
But come, I'le know more thoroughly its state.
First, what's the Flesh?
Jos.
Our nature since the Fall.
Seph.
The Spirit?
Jo.
That, which frees us from that thrall.
Seph.
Is Flesh our nature, which yet you resist?
Enough, hereon I purpose to insist.
For once, I'll of our nature take the part.
Jos.
That you have long since done, with snaky art.
What ever you have said, I took the same,
As from the flesh substantially it came.
Hence if the flesh its state you would detect,
On your own language then you must reflect.
Seph.
Now, be thou then the Spirit, that defend;
With thee this case to weigh I condescend.
What clause makes this, thou say'st, that each with hate
Should always with his flesh and blood debate?
Peace is commended by all men, we see;
But where there's war, how can there quiet be?
Where hate vindictive dwells, dispos'd to fight,
How can there grow the fruit of loves delight?
We are injoyn'd to love, which grace must flow
Continually from us; but do we show
Any thing of it, when with deadly rage,
Our flesh and blood to tortures we engage?
What contradiction and what madness too,
Does thy Soul utter and perswade us to!
We must seek peace, and yet must broyls maintain;
Both love our selves, and put our selves to pain;
Our happiness design, yet that destroy:
Such Medlies does thy little Soul employ.
But in thy judgment none will joyn with thee,
I think, that are not mad, or changelings be.
All men commend the tractable, but none
The sowre, morose, they're hated by each one.
He prospers in the world who to the times
Does suit himself, and yields to lesser crimes.
A creditable name hereby he gains,
And every where access and love obtains.
But the precise, how odious are they!
Such humours best Fanaticks does display.
No way, I see, there's for me to prevail,
This Spirit or I must with might assail;
For all what I produce, and on thee gain,
This wind repels, and renders quite in vain.
I'm bent against this Spirit with fierce hate.
But come, I'le know more thoroughly its state.
First, what's the Flesh?
Jos.
Our nature since the Fall.
Seph.
The Spirit?
Jo.
That, which frees us from that thrall.
Seph.
Is Flesh our nature, which yet you resist?
Enough, hereon I purpose to insist.
For once, I'll of our nature take the part.
Jos.
That you have long since done, with snaky art.
What ever you have said, I took the same,
As from the flesh substantially it came.
Hence if the flesh its state you would detect,
On your own language then you must reflect.
Seph.
Now, be thou then the Spirit, that defend;
With thee this case to weigh I condescend.
What clause makes this, thou say'st, that each with hate
Should always with his flesh and blood debate?
82
But where there's war, how can there quiet be?
Where hate vindictive dwells, dispos'd to fight,
How can there grow the fruit of loves delight?
We are injoyn'd to love, which grace must flow
Continually from us; but do we show
Any thing of it, when with deadly rage,
Our flesh and blood to tortures we engage?
What contradiction and what madness too,
Does thy Soul utter and perswade us to!
We must seek peace, and yet must broyls maintain;
Both love our selves, and put our selves to pain;
Our happiness design, yet that destroy:
Such Medlies does thy little Soul employ.
But in thy judgment none will joyn with thee,
I think, that are not mad, or changelings be.
All men commend the tractable, but none
The sowre, morose, they're hated by each one.
He prospers in the world who to the times
Does suit himself, and yields to lesser crimes.
A creditable name hereby he gains,
And every where access and love obtains.
But the precise, how odious are they!
Such humours best Fanaticks does display.
Self-Conflict | ||