Mundorum Explicatio or, The Explanation of an Hieroglyphical Figure: Wherein are couched the Mysteries of the External, Internal, and Eternal Worlds, shewing the true progress of a Soul from the Court of Jerusalem; from the Adamical fallen state to the Regenerate and Angelical. Being A Sacred Poem, written by S. P. [i.e. Samuel Pordage] |
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THE EPITHALAMIUM.
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THE EPITHALAMIUM.
After sad Winter springs the Spring,
The Day thrusts, out the Night,
Storm past the pretty Birds do sing,
The Skies their muffling Mantles fling
Away, and cheer Earth with their sight.
The Day thrusts, out the Night,
Storm past the pretty Birds do sing,
The Skies their muffling Mantles fling
Away, and cheer Earth with their sight.
After the floating Ship hath past
A thousand dangers, she
Thorow the surging Waves, at last
Doth Anchor in the Haven cast,
And there rests in Security.
A thousand dangers, she
Thorow the surging Waves, at last
Doth Anchor in the Haven cast,
And there rests in Security.
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So after an hard Pilgrimage
Th'row Earth, and Hell, there is
Joyes that the Travellers engage
For to forget their Earthly stage,
And evermore remain in Blisse.
Th'row Earth, and Hell, there is
Joyes that the Travellers engage
For to forget their Earthly stage,
And evermore remain in Blisse.
This is the Day the Sun doth rise,
The cheering Morn appears,
And Light springs from SOPHIA'S eyes,
Which blesseth all our Paradise,
And joyes unto this mariage bears,
The cheering Morn appears,
And Light springs from SOPHIA'S eyes,
Which blesseth all our Paradise,
And joyes unto this mariage bears,
This is the Time of Joyes, and Prayse,
True Laud therefore be given
To Him, who is the Light of Dayes,
Who to himself the Soul doth raise,
And Earth despised, Wed to Heav'n.
True Laud therefore be given
To Him, who is the Light of Dayes,
Who to himself the Soul doth raise,
And Earth despised, Wed to Heav'n.
SOPHIA is the Queen of Love,
Her Joyes Æternal be:
Bless'd Souls within her bosom move,
For ever tast the Blisse above,
Enjoying all Felicity.
Her Joyes Æternal be:
Bless'd Souls within her bosom move,
For ever tast the Blisse above,
Enjoying all Felicity.
This is the mariage of the Lamb,
The Lamb of Purity,
Who from the highest Heavens came,
Brought forth Æternity in Time,
That Souls this Wedding day might see.
The Lamb of Purity,
Who from the highest Heavens came,
Brought forth Æternity in Time,
That Souls this Wedding day might see.
Fears are for ever wip'd away,
Sighs from their Breasts are fled,
And happy evermore are they,
Who can attain this mariage Day,
And are unto SOPHIA Wed.
Sighs from their Breasts are fled,
And happy evermore are they,
Who can attain this mariage Day,
And are unto SOPHIA Wed.
All happinesse attends on thee,
No sorrows shall annoy
Sophia's Armes thy Comforts be,
Her Breast thy true Felicity,
And in her eyes rests all thy joy.
No sorrows shall annoy
Sophia's Armes thy Comforts be,
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And in her eyes rests all thy joy.
Blest be this Day! thrice blessed is,
This hour, this mariage Feast,
For thou shalt Live in Paradise,
In everlasting Joyes and Bliss,
And be by thy Love ever blest.
This hour, this mariage Feast,
For thou shalt Live in Paradise,
In everlasting Joyes and Bliss,
And be by thy Love ever blest.
Prayse to SOPHIA then we give,
And Hallalujah's sing:
By whom we in this Sphear do Live,
Who Souls from Earth to Heav'n reprieve.
And deignes them to her home to bring.
And Hallalujah's sing:
By whom we in this Sphear do Live,
Who Souls from Earth to Heav'n reprieve.
And deignes them to her home to bring.
Let Hallalujah's be our Song!
O may Sophia deigne!
With her all-quick'ning Breath among
Us, now to cast her odors strong,
And on us her spic'd shewers rain.
O may Sophia deigne!
With her all-quick'ning Breath among
Us, now to cast her odors strong,
And on us her spic'd shewers rain.
Hallalujah's to the bless'd Name
For evermore we sing.
May it our warbling Tongues inflame
O thou who didst this mariage frame,
Accept these offerings that we bring.
For evermore we sing.
May it our warbling Tongues inflame
O thou who didst this mariage frame,
Accept these offerings that we bring.
Hallalujah, Hallalujah!
Hallalujah we cry,
Hallalujah, Hallalujah!
Our Tongues for ever warble may,
Thus unto all Æternity!
Hallalujah we cry,
Hallalujah, Hallalujah!
Our Tongues for ever warble may,
Thus unto all Æternity!
Their Heav'nly voyces charm'd the Pilgrim's eares,
With such like Songs, and animated ayres:
But now they double their sweet melody,
And wrap him int' an higher extasie:
For every one takes his cœlestial Lyre,
And runs divisions on the silver wire,
Gently their fingers chime the speaking Chords,
To which they marry Symphonizing words:
The Babe that sprung from this Conjunction,
Was Ravishment, and Admiration.
Earth's sweetest voyces to their voyces are,
Like the hoarse squeeking of a new-made Car.
Linu's, and Orpheu's skil surpast was here,
So was the charming musick of the Sphear;
Each whispering accent on its mounting wings,
To Paradise's highest summet brings
The Pilgrim's Soul; to Heav'n's high Thrones she ran
Rais'd by the measures of their JASIAN.
Their Lydian straines his Heart exhilerate,
And with divinest Joyes it animate.
But whether pleas'd him most their Tongues, or Lyres
He doubts; both charm him, and he both admires.
Their Tongues, and Fingers sweetly there do vie,
Epods the one, the other Melody
Bring to contend; but being sweetly joyn'd
An happy Concord in their strife they find.
For whilst their Scarlet Tongues in quavering Notes
A sweet concent breath from their sounding Throats,
And trembling strings their nimble fingers shake,
And a Symphosiac Diapason make.
Both gently strike the circumambient Ayr,
And sweetly kiss, and feast the Pilgrim's Ear:
Beauty his eyes, his Ears their musick feed,
And out of both, by both's Soul's ravished.
With such like Songs, and animated ayres:
But now they double their sweet melody,
And wrap him int' an higher extasie:
For every one takes his cœlestial Lyre,
And runs divisions on the silver wire,
260
To which they marry Symphonizing words:
The Babe that sprung from this Conjunction,
Was Ravishment, and Admiration.
Earth's sweetest voyces to their voyces are,
Like the hoarse squeeking of a new-made Car.
Linu's, and Orpheu's skil surpast was here,
So was the charming musick of the Sphear;
Each whispering accent on its mounting wings,
To Paradise's highest summet brings
The Pilgrim's Soul; to Heav'n's high Thrones she ran
Rais'd by the measures of their JASIAN.
Their Lydian straines his Heart exhilerate,
And with divinest Joyes it animate.
But whether pleas'd him most their Tongues, or Lyres
He doubts; both charm him, and he both admires.
Their Tongues, and Fingers sweetly there do vie,
Epods the one, the other Melody
Bring to contend; but being sweetly joyn'd
An happy Concord in their strife they find.
For whilst their Scarlet Tongues in quavering Notes
A sweet concent breath from their sounding Throats,
And trembling strings their nimble fingers shake,
And a Symphosiac Diapason make.
Both gently strike the circumambient Ayr,
And sweetly kiss, and feast the Pilgrim's Ear:
Beauty his eyes, his Ears their musick feed,
And out of both, by both's Soul's ravished.
Whilst thus divinely learned measures they
Upon their Timbrels, and their Harps do play.
And whilst their prayse-tipt Tongues the ecchoing
Groves, with divinest accents make to ring;
Clouds of Perfumes, and sweetest Spices come
From their mouthes hollow aromatick room:
These spice the ayr: musk amber-greece and Mirrh,
In one breath sweetly mix'd together were.
A gentle Zepher muster'd in a trice
Together, all the sweets of Paradise,
(For unto every Tree, and flower he flew
Kissing them sweetly, all their fragors drew
Into's inodorated mouth) and there
With sweet Ambrosiac Odors fil'd the fire.
Not all the Spices of Arabia,
Aloes, nor Casha, nor strong Spieknard may,
With all the sweet Perfumes the Earth doth bear
With these so redolent bless'd sweets compare.
Nor Cloves, nor Cinnamon's sweet fragrancies,
Nor Liban's Cedars may compare to these.
Perfumes of Roses, Pinks, and Violets
Of sweetest Flowers, and of choysest sets.
Of Lilies, Oringes, and every thing
In Paradise, with every blast took wing,
And sweetly joyned take without offence,
The Ivory portals of his smelling sence:
This fresh assault of Odors strongly prest
To ravishment, the Pilgrim's smelling feast.
Upon their Timbrels, and their Harps do play.
And whilst their prayse-tipt Tongues the ecchoing
Groves, with divinest accents make to ring;
Clouds of Perfumes, and sweetest Spices come
From their mouthes hollow aromatick room:
These spice the ayr: musk amber-greece and Mirrh,
In one breath sweetly mix'd together were.
A gentle Zepher muster'd in a trice
Together, all the sweets of Paradise,
(For unto every Tree, and flower he flew
Kissing them sweetly, all their fragors drew
261
With sweet Ambrosiac Odors fil'd the fire.
Not all the Spices of Arabia,
Aloes, nor Casha, nor strong Spieknard may,
With all the sweet Perfumes the Earth doth bear
With these so redolent bless'd sweets compare.
Nor Cloves, nor Cinnamon's sweet fragrancies,
Nor Liban's Cedars may compare to these.
Perfumes of Roses, Pinks, and Violets
Of sweetest Flowers, and of choysest sets.
Of Lilies, Oringes, and every thing
In Paradise, with every blast took wing,
And sweetly joyned take without offence,
The Ivory portals of his smelling sence:
This fresh assault of Odors strongly prest
To ravishment, the Pilgrim's smelling feast.
But now the costly dishes that were there
As'k him why they so long neglected were;
Their Beauties promis'd that they there should meet
More ravishments than he had tasted yet.
Upon them all his doubtful eyes he cast,
Musing on which he should begin to tast.
Each with a several beauty courts his sight,
And all to tast with equal force invite:
But whilst he mus'd, a Cup fil'd to the brim
The Angel took, and sipt, and gave it him:
'Twas sprightful NECTAR such as Saints above,
And all the angellic Chore to drink doth Love.
Unto the brim the sparking Liquor skips,
And blushing deeper than the Pilgrim's Lips,
Invites them to the Boul; they straitways joyn,
And down he takes that Boul of Heav'nly Wine.
Nor Spain, nor Greece, nor hundred-City'd Creet
Could ever boast of Liquor half so sweet.
A golden Patin with Ambrosia,
His beauties next did to his eyes display:
On it he feeds: Madera sugars are
Sut both in tast, and hew if you compare
Them, to the Ambrosiac meat: a thousand sweets
At every tast, his softer pallat meets.
The bread of Life stood in the second place,
Whiter than snow, upon a golden Vase.
Then Heav'nly Manna in a silver plate,
With littering Beauties did invite to eat;
Like to the silver dewy drops in May,
Congeal'd a little in the plate it lay,
But so delicious was the tast of it,
That he was ravished at every bit.
This is the Angels food, their daily Bread,
By which for ever, they in Heaven are fed.
Milk, Honey, Oyl divinely mixt were there
To nourish, Comfort, and the Spirits cheer:
'Twas Virgin's Milk, and Virgin Honey too,
Not fabl'd Juno's had so fair an hew,
Which pav'd Galaxia: Nor Palestine
E'r flow'd with Milk, and Honey so divine.
The Muses birds from every flower do bear
Gall, if their Mel you unto this compare:
Nor ever did the Hæmetian Mountain hold
Such dulcified streams of liquid Gold.
Minerva's Liquor bears a sooty foyl,
If once compar'd with this cœlestial Oyl.
Full Bouls of Heav'nly Nectar crown the board;
Cups full of Milk of the Æternal Word
Scaturiant stand, whose purer White out-goes
The fairest Lillies, or the Alpine snows.
The Cups to smile with liquid silver seem;
Or Pearls dissolv'd; or Cleopatra's gemm:
But they more rich, and costly Treasures hold,
Than either liquid Silver, Pearl, or Gold.
The Sugar, nor the Honey founts of Creet,
And Hybla, could a messe make half so sweet,
As was that Nectarized Milk; for there
All Paradise's sweets commixed were.
A score of crystal Phials, fil'd with the
Best Aqua-vitæ, and of Purity
Stood also there; whose Crystal Liquor shon
More fair than all the silver of the Moon.
This was the Water of Æternal Life,
(The everlasting Fire's most happy Wife)
Ta'ne from that source, whose crystallized streams
Pearl Life's fair Trees, Roots with their matchless gemm.
The Springs of Bethlehem, which did David please,
No better were than Mirah's unto these:
The limpid Jordan though so clear he seem,
To these shews, as Asphaltes shews to him:
Sampson's strange Spring with which he quencht his thirst,
Nor Mose's stream which from the Rock did burst,
Could match these Ever-living Streames, one drop
Of these it was that made those Springs burst up:
One drop of these fair Waves 'tis gives unto
All Rivers, all the Crystal they indue.
Neighbours to these Cups of Obryziam Gold,
More precious than that of Ophir, hold
Dew, far more sweet than that which doth distil,
From the sweet flowers upon HERMON Till.
From mystic SION'S sweetest flowers: this,
By Angels hands fresh daily gathered is;
And all the Graces which did grace the Feast,
These twice bless'd Dews had by their Labour blest:
For from fair Paradise's Trees, and flowers,
They had shook these (more than Argolic) showers:
From off the trembling Leaves, they shook the drops
Of purest Crystal into golden Cups,
Where a thousand crowded Pearls into one rold,
Shew'd like a fair one clasp'd in ductil Gold.
Deeply of these, the happy Pilgrim sips,
And drenches oft his Nectarized Lips:
All mortal Waters this Azanium
Did loathsome, and distastful make to him;
And far more truly may this phrased be,
Than the Italians Christi Lachrimæ.
His Tears, nor Blood were wanting there, for in
Most sumptuous Craters did that Liquor swim,
Whose tast, and colour did by far excel
The sweet, and deep-dy'd Cretian Muscadel:
That sacred drink he also freely sips,
Which adds more Scarlet to his blushing Lips.
As'k him why they so long neglected were;
Their Beauties promis'd that they there should meet
More ravishments than he had tasted yet.
Upon them all his doubtful eyes he cast,
Musing on which he should begin to tast.
Each with a several beauty courts his sight,
And all to tast with equal force invite:
But whilst he mus'd, a Cup fil'd to the brim
The Angel took, and sipt, and gave it him:
'Twas sprightful NECTAR such as Saints above,
And all the angellic Chore to drink doth Love.
Unto the brim the sparking Liquor skips,
And blushing deeper than the Pilgrim's Lips,
Invites them to the Boul; they straitways joyn,
And down he takes that Boul of Heav'nly Wine.
Nor Spain, nor Greece, nor hundred-City'd Creet
Could ever boast of Liquor half so sweet.
A golden Patin with Ambrosia,
His beauties next did to his eyes display:
On it he feeds: Madera sugars are
Sut both in tast, and hew if you compare
Them, to the Ambrosiac meat: a thousand sweets
At every tast, his softer pallat meets.
262
Whiter than snow, upon a golden Vase.
Then Heav'nly Manna in a silver plate,
With littering Beauties did invite to eat;
Like to the silver dewy drops in May,
Congeal'd a little in the plate it lay,
But so delicious was the tast of it,
That he was ravished at every bit.
This is the Angels food, their daily Bread,
By which for ever, they in Heaven are fed.
Milk, Honey, Oyl divinely mixt were there
To nourish, Comfort, and the Spirits cheer:
'Twas Virgin's Milk, and Virgin Honey too,
Not fabl'd Juno's had so fair an hew,
Which pav'd Galaxia: Nor Palestine
E'r flow'd with Milk, and Honey so divine.
The Muses birds from every flower do bear
Gall, if their Mel you unto this compare:
Nor ever did the Hæmetian Mountain hold
Such dulcified streams of liquid Gold.
Minerva's Liquor bears a sooty foyl,
If once compar'd with this cœlestial Oyl.
Full Bouls of Heav'nly Nectar crown the board;
Cups full of Milk of the Æternal Word
Scaturiant stand, whose purer White out-goes
The fairest Lillies, or the Alpine snows.
The Cups to smile with liquid silver seem;
Or Pearls dissolv'd; or Cleopatra's gemm:
But they more rich, and costly Treasures hold,
Than either liquid Silver, Pearl, or Gold.
The Sugar, nor the Honey founts of Creet,
And Hybla, could a messe make half so sweet,
As was that Nectarized Milk; for there
All Paradise's sweets commixed were.
A score of crystal Phials, fil'd with the
Best Aqua-vitæ, and of Purity
Stood also there; whose Crystal Liquor shon
More fair than all the silver of the Moon.
This was the Water of Æternal Life,
(The everlasting Fire's most happy Wife)
263
Pearl Life's fair Trees, Roots with their matchless gemm.
The Springs of Bethlehem, which did David please,
No better were than Mirah's unto these:
The limpid Jordan though so clear he seem,
To these shews, as Asphaltes shews to him:
Sampson's strange Spring with which he quencht his thirst,
Nor Mose's stream which from the Rock did burst,
Could match these Ever-living Streames, one drop
Of these it was that made those Springs burst up:
One drop of these fair Waves 'tis gives unto
All Rivers, all the Crystal they indue.
Neighbours to these Cups of Obryziam Gold,
More precious than that of Ophir, hold
Dew, far more sweet than that which doth distil,
From the sweet flowers upon HERMON Till.
From mystic SION'S sweetest flowers: this,
By Angels hands fresh daily gathered is;
And all the Graces which did grace the Feast,
These twice bless'd Dews had by their Labour blest:
For from fair Paradise's Trees, and flowers,
They had shook these (more than Argolic) showers:
From off the trembling Leaves, they shook the drops
Of purest Crystal into golden Cups,
Where a thousand crowded Pearls into one rold,
Shew'd like a fair one clasp'd in ductil Gold.
Deeply of these, the happy Pilgrim sips,
And drenches oft his Nectarized Lips:
All mortal Waters this Azanium
Did loathsome, and distastful make to him;
And far more truly may this phrased be,
Than the Italians Christi Lachrimæ.
His Tears, nor Blood were wanting there, for in
Most sumptuous Craters did that Liquor swim,
Whose tast, and colour did by far excel
The sweet, and deep-dy'd Cretian Muscadel:
That sacred drink he also freely sips,
Which adds more Scarlet to his blushing Lips.
Besides all these upon the board did croud,
Of Paradise's Fruit a multitude;
Whose sweetest looks, as well the eyes delight,
As their deliciousnesse the appetite.
No Salgama's, nor yet Preserves express
Can half the tythe of their deliciousness;
Nothing of Earthly acritude was there,
Nothing of sharp, or bitter did appear,
All were delicious, and did sweetly vye
For to delight, with their variety.
All to excel the Pilgrim thought: His tast
Still gave the style of sweetest to the last,
Till he another tasted had; When it
With sweet delight made him the last forget:
So till he almost filled Was he guest
The last he tasted, still to be the best,
But then at last he could not but confesse
His judgement lost in their deliciousness.
Would that the Earth had colours that could suit
For to express the beauty of the Fruit:
Scarce can that Bow, seen in the clouded ayr,
Its Opals with the shades of these compare,
Nor the three-squar'd Glasses varieties,
(Which doth at once both please and hurt the eyes
With the reflection) can represent,
The shade of Paradise's Complement.
Man may by these some faint reflections frame,
But his Idea's cann't come near the same;
And those who have it seen do say they cann't,
Express the beauty of the meanest Plant.
Our slick, and scarlet Cherries nothing were,
Could they with blushes make themselves more fair;
Should they stand by the fruit of Paradise.
They would be rob'd of all their braveries.
The Honey-sweet, and Purple grape would grow
Bitter, and lose her Purple garments too;
Our yellow Apples with their painted cheeks,
Would pale their yellow, and their golden streeks:
All June's, and August's gallant braveries,
One single Fruit our Pilgrim eat outvies.
Sweet Thymiama's and Arabian Spice,
Dwelt in the sacred Fruit of Paradise.
So that at once those sacred Fruits did feast,
Three Sences, both the eye, the smel, the tast:
Between which three his Judgement was so tost
That he was dubious, which was feasted most.
Of Paradise's Fruit a multitude;
264
As their deliciousnesse the appetite.
No Salgama's, nor yet Preserves express
Can half the tythe of their deliciousness;
Nothing of Earthly acritude was there,
Nothing of sharp, or bitter did appear,
All were delicious, and did sweetly vye
For to delight, with their variety.
All to excel the Pilgrim thought: His tast
Still gave the style of sweetest to the last,
Till he another tasted had; When it
With sweet delight made him the last forget:
So till he almost filled Was he guest
The last he tasted, still to be the best,
But then at last he could not but confesse
His judgement lost in their deliciousness.
Would that the Earth had colours that could suit
For to express the beauty of the Fruit:
Scarce can that Bow, seen in the clouded ayr,
Its Opals with the shades of these compare,
Nor the three-squar'd Glasses varieties,
(Which doth at once both please and hurt the eyes
With the reflection) can represent,
The shade of Paradise's Complement.
Man may by these some faint reflections frame,
But his Idea's cann't come near the same;
And those who have it seen do say they cann't,
Express the beauty of the meanest Plant.
Our slick, and scarlet Cherries nothing were,
Could they with blushes make themselves more fair;
Should they stand by the fruit of Paradise.
They would be rob'd of all their braveries.
The Honey-sweet, and Purple grape would grow
Bitter, and lose her Purple garments too;
Our yellow Apples with their painted cheeks,
Would pale their yellow, and their golden streeks:
All June's, and August's gallant braveries,
One single Fruit our Pilgrim eat outvies.
Sweet Thymiama's and Arabian Spice,
Dwelt in the sacred Fruit of Paradise.
265
Three Sences, both the eye, the smel, the tast:
Between which three his Judgement was so tost
That he was dubious, which was feasted most.
The sacred Graces which this feast did Crown,
Had there a Heav'nly Banquet of their own,
Such food it was on which they daily fed;
And this before the Pilgrim too they spread.
'Twas fruit of Life's fair Tree, which they from thence
Had taken for their daily sustenance.
Their smiling Joy's, and secred Peace's fruit,
With Hope's, and Faith's together sweetly suit:
There were the apples of blest Chastity,
The daily Food of sweet Simplicity;
The Fruit of Love, and that which Innocence
Did daily feed on: That which Patience
Most Lov'd; and that so satisfying meat,
Which Meekness, and bless'd Temperance did eat;
Brotherly Kindnesse, Single-mindednesse,
And many more which there his eyes did bless.
The Lovely Fruit with such sweet charmes did greet
His fixed eyes, that he fell soon to eat
On every Dish; so pleasing was the Food,
The more he eat of it, the more he cou'd:
Its sweetness could not cloy, and every bit
Gave satisfaction, and desire of it
Encreas'd at once; in every bit there lay
Life-Honey, Manna, and Ambrosia.
Had there a Heav'nly Banquet of their own,
Such food it was on which they daily fed;
And this before the Pilgrim too they spread.
'Twas fruit of Life's fair Tree, which they from thence
Had taken for their daily sustenance.
Their smiling Joy's, and secred Peace's fruit,
With Hope's, and Faith's together sweetly suit:
There were the apples of blest Chastity,
The daily Food of sweet Simplicity;
The Fruit of Love, and that which Innocence
Did daily feed on: That which Patience
Most Lov'd; and that so satisfying meat,
Which Meekness, and bless'd Temperance did eat;
Brotherly Kindnesse, Single-mindednesse,
And many more which there his eyes did bless.
The Lovely Fruit with such sweet charmes did greet
His fixed eyes, that he fell soon to eat
On every Dish; so pleasing was the Food,
The more he eat of it, the more he cou'd:
Its sweetness could not cloy, and every bit
Gave satisfaction, and desire of it
Encreas'd at once; in every bit there lay
Life-Honey, Manna, and Ambrosia.
But now four trines of blessed Angels bring
The second course of this sweet Banquet in;
Each one between his Snow-white Hands did hold
A Dish, whose mettal purer was than Gold
Seav'n times try'd o're; the quintessence of that
Would be less pure and immaculate:
They were all fram'd of Gemms of Paradise,
Whose Sun-like Lustres did persttinge the eyes.
Not Epicurean Feasts, nor the profuse
Symposiums of wanton Syracuse,
Nor Sybaritic, nor all Asia's fare,
Might with what in those Dishes lay compare:
No, if all Lands, and Seas conspired were,
To feast a Monarch with their choysest chear,
And should they bring th' Hesperian golden Fruit,
Or rob Alcinou's Orchard 'twould not do 't:
Kings may command Earth's Dainties to their board,
But such as these, nor Earth, nor Seas afford.
Apples they were though not of massy Gold,
Yet far more rich, and fair for to behold;
Their full-blown Beauties did attract the eye,
Chearing the Spirits with their bravery,
For Gold, and Silver, and the blushing Queen
Of Flowers, lay involv'd of Beds of green:
The verdant Leaves espoused to the Fruits,
Gave them green Mantles to their Pinky Suits;
So all the dainties of sweet smiling May,
With Autumn's fair exuberances lay.
But whilst the Pilgrim's eyes content doth take
In their fair looks: thus t'him the Angel spake
Immediatly the Birds surcease their noyse,
To hear the sweeter musick of his Voyce.
The second course of this sweet Banquet in;
Each one between his Snow-white Hands did hold
A Dish, whose mettal purer was than Gold
Seav'n times try'd o're; the quintessence of that
Would be less pure and immaculate:
They were all fram'd of Gemms of Paradise,
Whose Sun-like Lustres did persttinge the eyes.
Not Epicurean Feasts, nor the profuse
Symposiums of wanton Syracuse,
Nor Sybaritic, nor all Asia's fare,
Might with what in those Dishes lay compare:
266
To feast a Monarch with their choysest chear,
And should they bring th' Hesperian golden Fruit,
Or rob Alcinou's Orchard 'twould not do 't:
Kings may command Earth's Dainties to their board,
But such as these, nor Earth, nor Seas afford.
Apples they were though not of massy Gold,
Yet far more rich, and fair for to behold;
Their full-blown Beauties did attract the eye,
Chearing the Spirits with their bravery,
For Gold, and Silver, and the blushing Queen
Of Flowers, lay involv'd of Beds of green:
The verdant Leaves espoused to the Fruits,
Gave them green Mantles to their Pinky Suits;
So all the dainties of sweet smiling May,
With Autumn's fair exuberances lay.
But whilst the Pilgrim's eyes content doth take
In their fair looks: thus t'him the Angel spake
Immediatly the Birds surcease their noyse,
To hear the sweeter musick of his Voyce.
Now shalt thou by experience confess,
The Way to Wisdom is th'row foolishnesse,
At least by that which so the World doth Call,
Who miscall all things ever since the fall.
Thou hast by all a Fool accounted been,
Who superficiously thy paths have seen;
What greater foolishness can be to them,
Than all the World, and its Sweets to contemn?
Who leaves the World's High Wayes though ne'r so wise,
Still subject to Fools Category Lyes:
But it O Pilgrim! granted is to thee,
That Heav'n's Archimagus thou shalt be.
Seest thou those Lovely Fruits, whose Rosie dye,
And hew, their Complements shew to thy eye,
But when their inward vertues thou shalt know,
Thou'lt say one 's worth exceeds all Earth's below.
These lovely Fruits which are before thee spread,
For thy sake from Life's Tree was gathered,
Jesus commanded that it so should be
For to express his mighty Love to thee.
And this excess of Love bespeaks, for why
But very few did ever feed so high.
But our great King now in these latter dayes,
Some to the highest pitch of Power will raise,
To match those Mortals who in Hell beneath
Feed on the Magic Fruit o'th' Tree of Death:
And as Hel's Powers increase so theirs shall rise,
Who feed on Life's blest Fruit, in Paradise.
For once before Christ's great appearing Day
Shall be; both Kingdoms shall their might display
On the Terrestrial Orb: The Dragon shall
Sore to the skies to have the greater fall.
This is a special favour to thee shown,
For tho, that many to this place have flown,
And that the long Arm of Humility
Hath reach'd them many Fruits of Life's fair Tree,
Yet these fair fruits they never tasted; they
Could only with their eyes feed on their gay.
Many may unto Paradise attain,
And other Fruit of Life's blest Tree may gain,
And yet may not permitted be to tast
These blessed Fruits, which thou so freely mayst.
God's gifts they are, and his Arcana's be;
The very choyce of all his Treasury.
All fitted are not for so deep a Feast,
Christ the sole Giver knows for whom 'tis best.
The Tree of Life hath divers sorts of Fruit,
Which with all tempers, and conditions suit;
All that may be for Man's own happiness
All that come here may eat; but these oppress
Peculiarly above the rest, the might,
Glory, and strength of the great Prince of Light.
The Tree of Life mounts up her towring Head,
Unto th' Æternal World, from hence doth spread
Her laden Armes, and on her upper bough
These Theamagical twelve fruits do grow;
From thence these Angels brought them: what they are
And what their Virtues, I'le to thee declare.
The Way to Wisdom is th'row foolishnesse,
At least by that which so the World doth Call,
Who miscall all things ever since the fall.
Thou hast by all a Fool accounted been,
Who superficiously thy paths have seen;
What greater foolishness can be to them,
Than all the World, and its Sweets to contemn?
Who leaves the World's High Wayes though ne'r so wise,
Still subject to Fools Category Lyes:
But it O Pilgrim! granted is to thee,
That Heav'n's Archimagus thou shalt be.
Seest thou those Lovely Fruits, whose Rosie dye,
And hew, their Complements shew to thy eye,
But when their inward vertues thou shalt know,
Thou'lt say one 's worth exceeds all Earth's below.
These lovely Fruits which are before thee spread,
For thy sake from Life's Tree was gathered,
Jesus commanded that it so should be
For to express his mighty Love to thee.
267
But very few did ever feed so high.
But our great King now in these latter dayes,
Some to the highest pitch of Power will raise,
To match those Mortals who in Hell beneath
Feed on the Magic Fruit o'th' Tree of Death:
And as Hel's Powers increase so theirs shall rise,
Who feed on Life's blest Fruit, in Paradise.
For once before Christ's great appearing Day
Shall be; both Kingdoms shall their might display
On the Terrestrial Orb: The Dragon shall
Sore to the skies to have the greater fall.
This is a special favour to thee shown,
For tho, that many to this place have flown,
And that the long Arm of Humility
Hath reach'd them many Fruits of Life's fair Tree,
Yet these fair fruits they never tasted; they
Could only with their eyes feed on their gay.
Many may unto Paradise attain,
And other Fruit of Life's blest Tree may gain,
And yet may not permitted be to tast
These blessed Fruits, which thou so freely mayst.
God's gifts they are, and his Arcana's be;
The very choyce of all his Treasury.
All fitted are not for so deep a Feast,
Christ the sole Giver knows for whom 'tis best.
The Tree of Life hath divers sorts of Fruit,
Which with all tempers, and conditions suit;
All that may be for Man's own happiness
All that come here may eat; but these oppress
Peculiarly above the rest, the might,
Glory, and strength of the great Prince of Light.
The Tree of Life mounts up her towring Head,
Unto th' Æternal World, from hence doth spread
Her laden Armes, and on her upper bough
These Theamagical twelve fruits do grow;
From thence these Angels brought them: what they are
And what their Virtues, I'le to thee declare.
O Man! Can Time contain Æternity?
Or can it comprehend the Deity?
Can God grow old, or feeble? Time, or age
Immortal Srength, to languishment engage?
Is God's all-powerful Arm now weaker grown,
Than in those Ages which are past, and flown?
That thou thus boldly (O degenerate!)
That Miracles are ceas'd, dost prædicate?
E're since the World did from a Chaos spring,
Upon its Theatre, God still did bring
His acts of Wonder, spreading them abroad
As Witnesses to all there was a God:
All ages of the World can testifie
Those matchless Wonders of the Deity,
But why less frequent in these later times,
Is cause of Mortals unbelieving Crimes,
Faith now is wanting; whosoever hath
That, may do Wonders: with a grain of Faith
Rocks may be mov'd: the Seas divided, and
Earth's floted o're, the Ocean made dry Land.
Man's unbelief, and much unworthiness,
Has caus'd exuberant Miracles to cease,
But yet these later dayes so barren grown
Are not, but they true miracles have shown:
The Romish Church (although Priests often fain
Some; through the cursed thirst of rotten gain)
True miracles has seen. O Man! despise
Not all; because some Priests have forged Lyes:
For nothing is to thee more dangerous
Than to say, what God doth Belzebub does.
But to that pass men now adayes are grown
That they no miracles at all will own,
But if ought pass beyond their apprehension,
They strait cry out it is black Hel's invention;
As if th' Immortal King to Hell had given
The glorious Wonder-working Power of Heaven,
Or had resign'd to him his right, or swore
Never to shew his Arm of Wonders more.
Long shall not Man retain these thoughts, for why
As Lightning breaketh th'rough the Crystal Sky,
So shall miraculous Wonders have a birth;
And with new Light illuminate the Earth;
And shew that Heav'n's Magitians can do
More than Belzebub, or his Magi too.
For those who eat shall on these fruits you see,
Shall only God's true sacred Magi be;
And these shall make them so: thou shalt be one,
Their several virtues therefore shall be shown.
Seest thou that Dish? those fruits in Scarlet dy'd?
Who seem to brave it in Pomona's pride:
Such is their virtue that they far excel
In giving Eloquence the Clarean Well.
Hermes himself less Eloquent shall be
Than those, whose Tongues these tip with swavity.
These tasted, strait the Tongue-ty'd sweetly speaks,
And all impediments assunder breaks:
Tongues stammering strings are scru'd to Heav'nly strains,
The blattering Mouth the highest Measures gains:
They to the Eater straitwayes do dispence
The divine accents of true Eloquence.
Rhetoric Honey through their Lips do speed
And such are termed golden-Mouth'd indeed.
Their virtue's ty'd not to one Tongue alone,
It the true Grammar of all Tongues makes known,
And in a Moment the unlearned'st Man,
Can teach the deepest Characters to scan,
And make him speak all Languages that are,
More smoothly than his own vernacular.
To Mose's Mouth, the fluent Aaron, this
Fruit granted was, for the Isachians Blisse:
This sacred Fruits high Virtue, did imbue
A many of the holy Prophets too,
Whereby in charming Notes they did diffuse
God's sacred Word unto the stubborn Jewes.
The holy Spirit when in cloven flame
He on the Heads of the Apostles came,
Touched their Tongues with this Fruits sacred juyce,
And of all Tongues they straitwayes had the use:
Such is the virtue of this matchlesse Fruit,
Unless by those that are adjoyning to 't.
Or can it comprehend the Deity?
268
Immortal Srength, to languishment engage?
Is God's all-powerful Arm now weaker grown,
Than in those Ages which are past, and flown?
That thou thus boldly (O degenerate!)
That Miracles are ceas'd, dost prædicate?
E're since the World did from a Chaos spring,
Upon its Theatre, God still did bring
His acts of Wonder, spreading them abroad
As Witnesses to all there was a God:
All ages of the World can testifie
Those matchless Wonders of the Deity,
But why less frequent in these later times,
Is cause of Mortals unbelieving Crimes,
Faith now is wanting; whosoever hath
That, may do Wonders: with a grain of Faith
Rocks may be mov'd: the Seas divided, and
Earth's floted o're, the Ocean made dry Land.
Man's unbelief, and much unworthiness,
Has caus'd exuberant Miracles to cease,
But yet these later dayes so barren grown
Are not, but they true miracles have shown:
The Romish Church (although Priests often fain
Some; through the cursed thirst of rotten gain)
True miracles has seen. O Man! despise
Not all; because some Priests have forged Lyes:
For nothing is to thee more dangerous
Than to say, what God doth Belzebub does.
But to that pass men now adayes are grown
That they no miracles at all will own,
But if ought pass beyond their apprehension,
They strait cry out it is black Hel's invention;
As if th' Immortal King to Hell had given
The glorious Wonder-working Power of Heaven,
Or had resign'd to him his right, or swore
Never to shew his Arm of Wonders more.
Long shall not Man retain these thoughts, for why
As Lightning breaketh th'rough the Crystal Sky,
So shall miraculous Wonders have a birth;
And with new Light illuminate the Earth;
269
More than Belzebub, or his Magi too.
For those who eat shall on these fruits you see,
Shall only God's true sacred Magi be;
And these shall make them so: thou shalt be one,
Their several virtues therefore shall be shown.
Seest thou that Dish? those fruits in Scarlet dy'd?
Who seem to brave it in Pomona's pride:
Such is their virtue that they far excel
In giving Eloquence the Clarean Well.
Hermes himself less Eloquent shall be
Than those, whose Tongues these tip with swavity.
These tasted, strait the Tongue-ty'd sweetly speaks,
And all impediments assunder breaks:
Tongues stammering strings are scru'd to Heav'nly strains,
The blattering Mouth the highest Measures gains:
They to the Eater straitwayes do dispence
The divine accents of true Eloquence.
Rhetoric Honey through their Lips do speed
And such are termed golden-Mouth'd indeed.
Their virtue's ty'd not to one Tongue alone,
It the true Grammar of all Tongues makes known,
And in a Moment the unlearned'st Man,
Can teach the deepest Characters to scan,
And make him speak all Languages that are,
More smoothly than his own vernacular.
To Mose's Mouth, the fluent Aaron, this
Fruit granted was, for the Isachians Blisse:
This sacred Fruits high Virtue, did imbue
A many of the holy Prophets too,
Whereby in charming Notes they did diffuse
God's sacred Word unto the stubborn Jewes.
The holy Spirit when in cloven flame
He on the Heads of the Apostles came,
Touched their Tongues with this Fruits sacred juyce,
And of all Tongues they straitwayes had the use:
Such is the virtue of this matchlesse Fruit,
Unless by those that are adjoyning to 't.
But mark that next Dish, where green Leaves inclose
Fruit which in scarlet Robes out-braves the Rose:
So fulgent Rubies court, and charm the eye,
When with clear Smuragds they invelop'd lye;
The Pestum flower peeps th'row her infant Skreen,
With paler blushes, wrap'd with duller green.
The juyce of these impregnates strait the Brain,
Not with discourses Kicksie, nor with vain
Disputes: true Logic art it doth diffuse,
And teaches Syllogisms how to use
For Heav'n's own int'rest: True Dilemma's too
Can by infusion to the Taster shew.
This doth the understanding purge; the eye
O'th' Soul, the Mind from Motes do purifie:
This Reason doth illuminate, and shews
How the true Dialectic Art to use:
Reason's corruptions, spots, and fallacies
This purgeth out: and gives it purer eyes.
This giveth Armes unto Truth's Champions, and
Inables them in Dispute's Wars to stand.
This unto Paul was borne by some of us,
When He with Beasts battail'd at Ephesus:
By this at Athens, to the Schoole he flew,
And th' Epicures, and Stoicks overthrew
With solid Arguments. This means did show
His persecutors how to overthrow:
The Jewish Rabbies, Gentile Doctors, Mute
At last were made: 'gainst him was no dispute.
Fruit which in scarlet Robes out-braves the Rose:
270
When with clear Smuragds they invelop'd lye;
The Pestum flower peeps th'row her infant Skreen,
With paler blushes, wrap'd with duller green.
The juyce of these impregnates strait the Brain,
Not with discourses Kicksie, nor with vain
Disputes: true Logic art it doth diffuse,
And teaches Syllogisms how to use
For Heav'n's own int'rest: True Dilemma's too
Can by infusion to the Taster shew.
This doth the understanding purge; the eye
O'th' Soul, the Mind from Motes do purifie:
This Reason doth illuminate, and shews
How the true Dialectic Art to use:
Reason's corruptions, spots, and fallacies
This purgeth out: and gives it purer eyes.
This giveth Armes unto Truth's Champions, and
Inables them in Dispute's Wars to stand.
This unto Paul was borne by some of us,
When He with Beasts battail'd at Ephesus:
By this at Athens, to the Schoole he flew,
And th' Epicures, and Stoicks overthrew
With solid Arguments. This means did show
His persecutors how to overthrow:
The Jewish Rabbies, Gentile Doctors, Mute
At last were made: 'gainst him was no dispute.
That third Dish where in Seas of Beauties wallow
The slick-skin fruits; bestrip't with Red, and Yellow;
Screening their Virtues, in a double fold,
Of Crimson, Satin, and of yellow Gold:
The ground is Gold, upon whose face is spread
A thousand striplets of a grain-dy'd Red.
That Dish contains fruit of unvalued prize,
Whose sacred virtue makes man truly wise.
That Magic makes, and true Philosophers,
That Wisdom, and true Knowledge still infers.
Those Fruits unlock the fast-shut Cabinet
Of Nature, and her Treasures open set:
Nature's true Jewels rol'd in pitch do lye,
Not to be seen but by an Heav'nly Eye
And such an one these give: an Eye that looks
Upon, and reads her most mysterious Books.
An Eye that thorow Neptune's Region goes,
And all things in his brinish Kingdom knows,
An Eye that walketh thorow all the Mines,
An Eye that to Earth's solid Centre shines:
An Eye which doth perspicuously see,
What virtues, in all Vegitables be;
That the true Nature of all things that grow,
From the tall Cedar, to the shrub, doth know:
An Eye that from the Earth to Heav'n doth rise,
And rangeth th'rough the myst'ries of the Skies:
That views the stations of the Wanderers,
That sees the mansion of the Northern Bears:
That knows the nature of those glittering Fires,
That reads their Lectures: and Heav'n's Hand admires;
That knows their good, and evil influence,
They on the World, and Mortals do dispence;
That knows the causes of all natural things,
Seas, and Earth's motions, and the Winds swift wings;
The streaming Metours, and the blazing Stars,
The hairy Comets sad predicts of Wars;
That truly sees, and knoweth all the parts
O'th' Ptolomic, and Eucledean Arts.
These sacred Fruits besides all these disclose
Nature's hid Magic, which th' unwise oppose,
The Ancients wisdom, whereby they could do
Things wonderful, yet natural, and true;
Not jugling tricks: nor by ill Spirits might,
But by Dame Nature's just, and sacred Light;
Almost extinct now in the World; unknown
'Cause men have sought præstigiæ of their own,
And following airy Notions caught the shade,
Whilst the true substance did their hands evade.
Such are the Virtues of these Fruits divine,
Which with such matchless lustrous Beauties shines.
Of these the Father of the Faithful eat,
Sucking true Wisdom from the blessed meat,
And those who liv'd nine Ages to descry
The Planets dances in the azure Skye.
Great Salomon that mighty Magus had
His Wisdom and his Rnowledge from this food:
This sacred Fruit was lovely to his eyes,
For he this more than 's Crown, or Gold did prize.
He wisely said, For all things there a Time
Was; did but Mortals on the Earthly clime
Exactly know the same, they would not err
So oft, and toys to precious Gemms prefer:
Of Wisdom it no Mean part is to know,
The means not only but the Time to do:
For what these blessed Fruits so freely give,
Men in all Ages after deeply dive,
Nor is't unlawful for them to do so,
Did they true Time take, and right Wayes to go;
Else all is vanity: For what's all this
If Man should know 't, and yet ignore his Blisse?
On this the King pitched his Mind's clear eye,
When he cry'd out, all things are vanity.
What are these Jewels, though they Jewels be,
If Man's not lure of Æternity?
These are no means to gain the Heav'nly Race,
These are but Crowns for those that gaine the space.
They are unwise who first do seek those Arts,
Before that they have circumcis'd their Hearts:
For what they gain before is vanity,
What afterwards our King doth sanctifie.
What men acquire, they usually abuse it,
What Heav'n himself gives, he shews how to use it.
Let Man therefore the Time observe, and see
To gain Heav'n first: these but additions be.
The slick-skin fruits; bestrip't with Red, and Yellow;
Screening their Virtues, in a double fold,
Of Crimson, Satin, and of yellow Gold:
The ground is Gold, upon whose face is spread
A thousand striplets of a grain-dy'd Red.
That Dish contains fruit of unvalued prize,
Whose sacred virtue makes man truly wise.
That Magic makes, and true Philosophers,
That Wisdom, and true Knowledge still infers.
Those Fruits unlock the fast-shut Cabinet
Of Nature, and her Treasures open set:
Nature's true Jewels rol'd in pitch do lye,
Not to be seen but by an Heav'nly Eye
271
Upon, and reads her most mysterious Books.
An Eye that thorow Neptune's Region goes,
And all things in his brinish Kingdom knows,
An Eye that walketh thorow all the Mines,
An Eye that to Earth's solid Centre shines:
An Eye which doth perspicuously see,
What virtues, in all Vegitables be;
That the true Nature of all things that grow,
From the tall Cedar, to the shrub, doth know:
An Eye that from the Earth to Heav'n doth rise,
And rangeth th'rough the myst'ries of the Skies:
That views the stations of the Wanderers,
That sees the mansion of the Northern Bears:
That knows the nature of those glittering Fires,
That reads their Lectures: and Heav'n's Hand admires;
That knows their good, and evil influence,
They on the World, and Mortals do dispence;
That knows the causes of all natural things,
Seas, and Earth's motions, and the Winds swift wings;
The streaming Metours, and the blazing Stars,
The hairy Comets sad predicts of Wars;
That truly sees, and knoweth all the parts
O'th' Ptolomic, and Eucledean Arts.
These sacred Fruits besides all these disclose
Nature's hid Magic, which th' unwise oppose,
The Ancients wisdom, whereby they could do
Things wonderful, yet natural, and true;
Not jugling tricks: nor by ill Spirits might,
But by Dame Nature's just, and sacred Light;
Almost extinct now in the World; unknown
'Cause men have sought præstigiæ of their own,
And following airy Notions caught the shade,
Whilst the true substance did their hands evade.
Such are the Virtues of these Fruits divine,
Which with such matchless lustrous Beauties shines.
Of these the Father of the Faithful eat,
Sucking true Wisdom from the blessed meat,
And those who liv'd nine Ages to descry
The Planets dances in the azure Skye.
272
His Wisdom and his Rnowledge from this food:
This sacred Fruit was lovely to his eyes,
For he this more than 's Crown, or Gold did prize.
He wisely said, For all things there a Time
Was; did but Mortals on the Earthly clime
Exactly know the same, they would not err
So oft, and toys to precious Gemms prefer:
Of Wisdom it no Mean part is to know,
The means not only but the Time to do:
For what these blessed Fruits so freely give,
Men in all Ages after deeply dive,
Nor is't unlawful for them to do so,
Did they true Time take, and right Wayes to go;
Else all is vanity: For what's all this
If Man should know 't, and yet ignore his Blisse?
On this the King pitched his Mind's clear eye,
When he cry'd out, all things are vanity.
What are these Jewels, though they Jewels be,
If Man's not lure of Æternity?
These are no means to gain the Heav'nly Race,
These are but Crowns for those that gaine the space.
They are unwise who first do seek those Arts,
Before that they have circumcis'd their Hearts:
For what they gain before is vanity,
What afterwards our King doth sanctifie.
What men acquire, they usually abuse it,
What Heav'n himself gives, he shews how to use it.
Let Man therefore the Time observe, and see
To gain Heav'n first: these but additions be.
The World's eye who in twice twelve hours, and four,
The mighty Moles of the Earth views o're.
In all her choysest Hort-yards cannot see
Fruits, half so fair, and precious as these be
Which in that neighbour Dish inchant the eye
With painted Robes, and fulvid bravery.
Those are Panchresta's for all ills of Man,
And who shall tast them shall Physitian
Be to himself and others; these impart
Both Æsculapius his, and Chiron's Art.
As the Heraclian Stone draws iron, and
To rubbed Steel imparts the same Command,
So these with perfect Health do Man imbue,
And t'others make him Health's Physitian too.
Simples from his Hand ta'ne more virtues hold,
Than Bezoar or dissolved Pearl or Gold:
His touch, or Breath, or Word, or healing Eye,
May Physical Medicaments supply,
The Taster gaineth from these Fruits alone,
The healing virtue, and the med'cinal Stone.
Raphiel this juyce 'mong the Fishes Gall did scruse,
Which Tobit t'heal his Fathers sight did use.
Part of this Fruit was mix'd with that Perfume,
Which did the evil Spirit overcome.
King Hezekia's Figs which heal'd his sore,
This Fruits blest Liquor in their intrails bore.
By this Ælia's Life bestow'd upon
The widow of Zarepta's stone-dead Son.
By this Elisha did represse Life's flight,
And rais'd the Son, of the good Shunamite:
Some of this juyce he mingled with the Meal
Which did the Prophets poyson'd Pottage heal,
This in the crystal streams of Jordan lay,
When they wash'd Na'man's Leprosie away:
This mix'd was with the Salt, which cur'd, the so
Unwholsome Springs of pleasant Jerico.
This to the hemm of our King's garment dropt,
When by its touch the bloody issue stop'd:
This in his healing Spittle hidden lay,
When that he an Opthalmic made of clay;
Which eyes restored to the born-blind; and
This in his Breath made whole the wither'd Hand.
Great Jesus our thrice blessed King did feed
On all these Fruits which are before thee spread,
When he did flesh indue; But He that Food
Lik'd best, which most was for poor Mortals good,
Therefore he this us'd much; for through his Breath
Diffusing it; to Life he rais'd from Death:
He toth' Blind, Lame, Deaf, Dumb, Dead, power did give,
To see, to walk, to Hear, to speak, to Live.
To the Bethsadæan Pool once every year,
One of my Brothers of this Fruit did bear,
Whose virtue to those Waters virtue gave
The sad afflicted from their pains to save.
Legs to a Cripple through this virtue Paul
At Lystra gave; Cur'd Eutichus his fall:
Healed himself; cur'd a possessed Maid:
Made Vipers hurtless: cur'd where's hand's were laid:
So the Disciples all; by this alone
Became Physitians unto every one.
The mighty Moles of the Earth views o're.
In all her choysest Hort-yards cannot see
Fruits, half so fair, and precious as these be
Which in that neighbour Dish inchant the eye
With painted Robes, and fulvid bravery.
Those are Panchresta's for all ills of Man,
And who shall tast them shall Physitian
Be to himself and others; these impart
Both Æsculapius his, and Chiron's Art.
273
To rubbed Steel imparts the same Command,
So these with perfect Health do Man imbue,
And t'others make him Health's Physitian too.
Simples from his Hand ta'ne more virtues hold,
Than Bezoar or dissolved Pearl or Gold:
His touch, or Breath, or Word, or healing Eye,
May Physical Medicaments supply,
The Taster gaineth from these Fruits alone,
The healing virtue, and the med'cinal Stone.
Raphiel this juyce 'mong the Fishes Gall did scruse,
Which Tobit t'heal his Fathers sight did use.
Part of this Fruit was mix'd with that Perfume,
Which did the evil Spirit overcome.
King Hezekia's Figs which heal'd his sore,
This Fruits blest Liquor in their intrails bore.
By this Ælia's Life bestow'd upon
The widow of Zarepta's stone-dead Son.
By this Elisha did represse Life's flight,
And rais'd the Son, of the good Shunamite:
Some of this juyce he mingled with the Meal
Which did the Prophets poyson'd Pottage heal,
This in the crystal streams of Jordan lay,
When they wash'd Na'man's Leprosie away:
This mix'd was with the Salt, which cur'd, the so
Unwholsome Springs of pleasant Jerico.
This to the hemm of our King's garment dropt,
When by its touch the bloody issue stop'd:
This in his healing Spittle hidden lay,
When that he an Opthalmic made of clay;
Which eyes restored to the born-blind; and
This in his Breath made whole the wither'd Hand.
Great Jesus our thrice blessed King did feed
On all these Fruits which are before thee spread,
When he did flesh indue; But He that Food
Lik'd best, which most was for poor Mortals good,
Therefore he this us'd much; for through his Breath
Diffusing it; to Life he rais'd from Death:
He toth' Blind, Lame, Deaf, Dumb, Dead, power did give,
To see, to walk, to Hear, to speak, to Live.
274
One of my Brothers of this Fruit did bear,
Whose virtue to those Waters virtue gave
The sad afflicted from their pains to save.
Legs to a Cripple through this virtue Paul
At Lystra gave; Cur'd Eutichus his fall:
Healed himself; cur'd a possessed Maid:
Made Vipers hurtless: cur'd where's hand's were laid:
So the Disciples all; by this alone
Became Physitians unto every one.
That next Dish (prest with its exuberance
Of matchless Treasures, which their heaps advance
Above the low sides of the Pattin) seems
The chiefest Archive of Cœlestial gemms.
How thrust it is, that it can scarcely hold
Those silver apples in its purest Gold.
Preachers upon this sacred food should feed,
This makes Divines, to be divine indeed:
This keeps the Eaters Mouth from speaking wrong,
Gives sacred Truth a dwelling in his Tongue;
So chimes that Member that she utters, what
To pass in after ages shall be brought,
Makes Her so swift in Her predicting chime,
That she out-flyes the swiftest wings of Time;
By anti-Chronicles of things not done
Forestals the ages of the World to come:
Making his Linceous eyes to see so far
Things yet to come (like God) as if they were.
Of matchless Treasures, which their heaps advance
Above the low sides of the Pattin) seems
The chiefest Archive of Cœlestial gemms.
How thrust it is, that it can scarcely hold
Those silver apples in its purest Gold.
Preachers upon this sacred food should feed,
This makes Divines, to be divine indeed:
This keeps the Eaters Mouth from speaking wrong,
Gives sacred Truth a dwelling in his Tongue;
So chimes that Member that she utters, what
To pass in after ages shall be brought,
Makes Her so swift in Her predicting chime,
That she out-flyes the swiftest wings of Time;
By anti-Chronicles of things not done
Forestals the ages of the World to come:
Making his Linceous eyes to see so far
Things yet to come (like God) as if they were.
This to the Eater gives the golden Key
Which doth unlock the Letter's mysterie,
Which doth unseal the most mysterious Wells;
Which doth reveal Gemms hid in Parables.
Which doth unlock the Letter's mysterie,
Which doth unseal the most mysterious Wells;
Which doth reveal Gemms hid in Parables.
This doth unfold the mysteries of the Night,
Visions appearing to th' internal sight;
When the eyes double-guarded porta's be
Fast locked up with Morpheu's Leaden Key:
When Night o're half the World in silence reignes,
Then noted Dreams Court undisturbed Brains.
These Fruits give oyl which oynt the Tongue, and make,
It in Petitions fervent, daily speak
To Heav'n: and render Essences so strong
That in stout ardors move the heated Tongue,
And with such fervour call on Heav'n, that she
Ev'n forces him with importunity:
Such flagitations don't with Heav'n dissute,
When they rise from the virtue of this Fruit.
The Patriarch JACOB of this fruit did tast,
Before he gave unto his Sons, his last
Prophetic Blessings; wherein he relates
In Hieroglyphicks all their future fates.
This fruit of Najoth all the Prophets fed,
When Saul's fierce Nuncio's also prophesied:
And Saul, this (though unseen) when pressing through
His Lips, was also made a Prophet too.
This all those eat who to the Jews foretold
That Mortals should their God in flesh behold,
This gave them spiritual eyes to see, before
He came; that Jesus whom we all adore.
This Fruit was rolled, in Ezekiels Role,
This fruit was squeezed into Esdra's Bole,
This in the Leaves lay of John's Book, which He
Eat, with the promise He should Prophesie.
This Fruit Christ his Disciples granted too,
Whereby his words profunditly they knew.
Joseph, and Daniel also of it eat,
When of Kings Dreams interpreters they sat.
Elisha eat of this when he by Prayer
Stop'd up the watery Fountains of the ayr:
When he again by fervent prayer's power,
Chear'd the dry Earth with a continual showre:
When he from Heaven with like fervent cryes
Fetch'd Fire to consume the Sacrifice:
When he from Heaven Cœlestial Flames twice drew,
The which two Captains, and their fifties slew.
Such is the virtue of that fruit you see,
A Gemm more rich than all Mortality.
Visions appearing to th' internal sight;
When the eyes double-guarded porta's be
Fast locked up with Morpheu's Leaden Key:
When Night o're half the World in silence reignes,
Then noted Dreams Court undisturbed Brains.
These Fruits give oyl which oynt the Tongue, and make,
It in Petitions fervent, daily speak
275
That in stout ardors move the heated Tongue,
And with such fervour call on Heav'n, that she
Ev'n forces him with importunity:
Such flagitations don't with Heav'n dissute,
When they rise from the virtue of this Fruit.
The Patriarch JACOB of this fruit did tast,
Before he gave unto his Sons, his last
Prophetic Blessings; wherein he relates
In Hieroglyphicks all their future fates.
This fruit of Najoth all the Prophets fed,
When Saul's fierce Nuncio's also prophesied:
And Saul, this (though unseen) when pressing through
His Lips, was also made a Prophet too.
This all those eat who to the Jews foretold
That Mortals should their God in flesh behold,
This gave them spiritual eyes to see, before
He came; that Jesus whom we all adore.
This Fruit was rolled, in Ezekiels Role,
This fruit was squeezed into Esdra's Bole,
This in the Leaves lay of John's Book, which He
Eat, with the promise He should Prophesie.
This Fruit Christ his Disciples granted too,
Whereby his words profunditly they knew.
Joseph, and Daniel also of it eat,
When of Kings Dreams interpreters they sat.
Elisha eat of this when he by Prayer
Stop'd up the watery Fountains of the ayr:
When he again by fervent prayer's power,
Chear'd the dry Earth with a continual showre:
When he from Heaven with like fervent cryes
Fetch'd Fire to consume the Sacrifice:
When he from Heaven Cœlestial Flames twice drew,
The which two Captains, and their fifties slew.
Such is the virtue of that fruit you see,
A Gemm more rich than all Mortality.
But view the next Dish: Did a greater prize
(And less than Heav'n it self) e'r bless thine eyes?
Could Aretusa's tempting fruit more please
Spectator's eyes, with greater gay than these?
Doth golden TITAN rising from the main,
The gray-ey'd Morn with deeper Scarlet stain,
Than this which blushes on their cheeks or may
His Beams gild with a better Gold the Day?
What charmes upon their cheeks do lye! but see
Their equal measures raise their suavity;
How sweet a method in their make was seen!
See how their Gold, is chequered with green!
How passing sweet their outward beauties shine!
Nor are their inner beauties lesse divine.
Too long I cannot on these Eulogize;
Nor too much prayse their heav'nly suavities.
Heav'n's Choristers when they begin their Songs.
Of prayse; with this Fruit's juyce do oyl their Tongues:
The sacred Seriphs when they tune the Keyes
Of their shril Tongues, for everlasting prayse,
And Hallelujah's of this Fruit they eat,
Which doth their prayse-tip'd Tongues on fire set,
Whilst Sion's Harpers strike their trembling Chords,
Marying their Ayres unto their quavering Words.
All of us Love this Fruit, for it inspires
Our Songs; inflames our Tongues with Heav'nly Fires;
This Fruit it is which makes a Poet shine
And makes his Numbers, and himself divine:
This Fire inkindles in his noble breast,
Which makes him Loves lascivious layes detest:
Super-cœlestial are his harbour'd Fires,
His layes are tuned to the Angels Lyres:
Anthems divine, and spiritual Songs do bear
His soaring Soul unto the highest Sphear;
Ravishing Psalmes, and rapting Hymn's high Keyes,
From graver Epods up do often raise
His Soul; then with Ænthean fury, He
Makes Dis to tremble at his melody.
In this Fruit's juyce his lips he drenches, this
His Helicon, and Hippoctene is,
One draught of this sweet juyce can make him do,
More than the Muses, and Apollo too.
The Kingly Harper eat this blessed Food,
When Saul's ill Spirit he so sweetly chew'd;
By this inspir'd he wrote those Heav'nly Layes,
Those Hymns of Joyes, and those Psalmes of prayse.
This made the martyr'd Fathers often sing,
When scorching Flames their burning armes did fling
About their naked flesh; whilst furious kisses
Sent their rejoycing Souls to lasting Blisses.
(And less than Heav'n it self) e'r bless thine eyes?
Could Aretusa's tempting fruit more please
Spectator's eyes, with greater gay than these?
276
The gray-ey'd Morn with deeper Scarlet stain,
Than this which blushes on their cheeks or may
His Beams gild with a better Gold the Day?
What charmes upon their cheeks do lye! but see
Their equal measures raise their suavity;
How sweet a method in their make was seen!
See how their Gold, is chequered with green!
How passing sweet their outward beauties shine!
Nor are their inner beauties lesse divine.
Too long I cannot on these Eulogize;
Nor too much prayse their heav'nly suavities.
Heav'n's Choristers when they begin their Songs.
Of prayse; with this Fruit's juyce do oyl their Tongues:
The sacred Seriphs when they tune the Keyes
Of their shril Tongues, for everlasting prayse,
And Hallelujah's of this Fruit they eat,
Which doth their prayse-tip'd Tongues on fire set,
Whilst Sion's Harpers strike their trembling Chords,
Marying their Ayres unto their quavering Words.
All of us Love this Fruit, for it inspires
Our Songs; inflames our Tongues with Heav'nly Fires;
This Fruit it is which makes a Poet shine
And makes his Numbers, and himself divine:
This Fire inkindles in his noble breast,
Which makes him Loves lascivious layes detest:
Super-cœlestial are his harbour'd Fires,
His layes are tuned to the Angels Lyres:
Anthems divine, and spiritual Songs do bear
His soaring Soul unto the highest Sphear;
Ravishing Psalmes, and rapting Hymn's high Keyes,
From graver Epods up do often raise
His Soul; then with Ænthean fury, He
Makes Dis to tremble at his melody.
In this Fruit's juyce his lips he drenches, this
His Helicon, and Hippoctene is,
One draught of this sweet juyce can make him do,
More than the Muses, and Apollo too.
The Kingly Harper eat this blessed Food,
When Saul's ill Spirit he so sweetly chew'd;
277
Those Hymns of Joyes, and those Psalmes of prayse.
This made the martyr'd Fathers often sing,
When scorching Flames their burning armes did fling
About their naked flesh; whilst furious kisses
Sent their rejoycing Souls to lasting Blisses.
That neighbour Pattin which transparent seems,
Doth also hold inestimable Gemms;
They apples are, although unto our sight,
Each one appears a big-swell'd Margarite;
The Persic gulf, nor yet the Eastern Seas,
Did ever Unions yield so fair as these:
Not all the Children of the Cheripo's
Could half the value match of one of those
Fair radiant Globes: whose lustrous beamings forth.
Sufficiently do testifie their worth.
These to the Eater give a Beam of Light,
A more than Lynx's eye, a piercing sight,
Which through the feigned Cloaks of Spirits can
See their true shapes, although they false put on.
Though Hel's Prince should his swarthy hide paint o're
With Virgin Beauties; though such wings he wore
As I have on: Should he Angellic cloathes
Put on, his visage paint with purest snows;
His Snakes to Amber Curles convert; his brow
His Horns pull'd in with pollish'd Ivory strow:
His jagged Teeth in order set, and from
His horrid Mouth breath nothing but Perfume,
His knotty tail tye round about his wast,
And over that ten snowy Mantles cast;
Pare all his clawes: hide his deformity,
And uglinesse, with borrow'd bravery:
And strive his utmost, egg'd by cunning hate,
Our speech, as well as cloathes to imitate;
Yet will this Fruit discover his deceit,
Lay ope the Monster, and make known his cheat.
The Eyes it gives cannot deceived be,
They th'row false paintings and adornments see,
Discern Impostors who usurp our room,
Descry Wolves which in borrow'd sheep-Skins come:
See Sathan's blacknesse th'rough his painted skin;
See th'row his Angels shape a Devil within.
Those eyes it gives, are acuous, and divine,
And know false borrow'd shapes, from genuine.
O how should Mortals for this fruit entreat!
Which frees them from the Stygian monsters cheat,
Which shews his fuco's, and his subtilties,
Heretic Errors, and prestigious Lyes,
Which though he cometh in an Angels dress,
Betrayes him to his genuine ugliness:
For want of this, good souls have been misled,
And into ills by false shapes ravished;
Those snares do most intangle which he uses,
When Mortals he under our shapes abuses.
By this bless'd Paul th' imposture's shape espi'd,
Although of Christ, and him he testify'd,
And having seen him he to Hell betray'd
Him, and deliver'd the Divining Maid.
By this the Infant Church had eyes to see,
Jesus from Idols, Truth from Heresie;
The cunning tricks, and wondrous subtilties,
Sathan still us'd to blind the Heathens eyes.
This then discover'd his impostrous cheats,
Made known fair Truth, and his most foul deceits.
Doth also hold inestimable Gemms;
They apples are, although unto our sight,
Each one appears a big-swell'd Margarite;
The Persic gulf, nor yet the Eastern Seas,
Did ever Unions yield so fair as these:
Not all the Children of the Cheripo's
Could half the value match of one of those
Fair radiant Globes: whose lustrous beamings forth.
Sufficiently do testifie their worth.
These to the Eater give a Beam of Light,
A more than Lynx's eye, a piercing sight,
Which through the feigned Cloaks of Spirits can
See their true shapes, although they false put on.
Though Hel's Prince should his swarthy hide paint o're
With Virgin Beauties; though such wings he wore
As I have on: Should he Angellic cloathes
Put on, his visage paint with purest snows;
His Snakes to Amber Curles convert; his brow
His Horns pull'd in with pollish'd Ivory strow:
His jagged Teeth in order set, and from
His horrid Mouth breath nothing but Perfume,
His knotty tail tye round about his wast,
And over that ten snowy Mantles cast;
Pare all his clawes: hide his deformity,
And uglinesse, with borrow'd bravery:
And strive his utmost, egg'd by cunning hate,
Our speech, as well as cloathes to imitate;
Yet will this Fruit discover his deceit,
Lay ope the Monster, and make known his cheat.
The Eyes it gives cannot deceived be,
They th'row false paintings and adornments see,
Discern Impostors who usurp our room,
Descry Wolves which in borrow'd sheep-Skins come:
278
See th'row his Angels shape a Devil within.
Those eyes it gives, are acuous, and divine,
And know false borrow'd shapes, from genuine.
O how should Mortals for this fruit entreat!
Which frees them from the Stygian monsters cheat,
Which shews his fuco's, and his subtilties,
Heretic Errors, and prestigious Lyes,
Which though he cometh in an Angels dress,
Betrayes him to his genuine ugliness:
For want of this, good souls have been misled,
And into ills by false shapes ravished;
Those snares do most intangle which he uses,
When Mortals he under our shapes abuses.
By this bless'd Paul th' imposture's shape espi'd,
Although of Christ, and him he testify'd,
And having seen him he to Hell betray'd
Him, and deliver'd the Divining Maid.
By this the Infant Church had eyes to see,
Jesus from Idols, Truth from Heresie;
The cunning tricks, and wondrous subtilties,
Sathan still us'd to blind the Heathens eyes.
This then discover'd his impostrous cheats,
Made known fair Truth, and his most foul deceits.
The next though palenesse in their cheeks appear,
Lesse Lovely, nor of lesser virtues are:
How sweetly kissing in the Dish they lye!
These are the Apples of true unity:
This precious Fruit bears Adamantine glew
Can chain a thousand Hearts aswel as two.
With true-Love Links fast in a Knot together:
That Hell, nor all his Ramms shall break the tether.
'Twixt Spirits this frames a true unity,
And binds with bands of best Community;
An hundred Hearts it can so fastly bind,
That they shall seem but all one Heart, and mind.
This can do more: for the dread stroke of Fate
By this Friends heares link'd cannot separate.
It tyes immortal gives, though Death can slay
The Carcasse, yet cannot take these tyes away,
For spite of Death (their Souls together still
Being joyn'd) they visit one another will.
By this the Saints a sweet Communion have,
With those who long since past the silent Grave.
For Death, to a Communion spiritual,
To such is no impediment at all.
Those out of Bodies with perspicuous eyes
Can see Hel's plots, and cruel subtilties;
And to their Friends they oft permitted are,
Those precipies timely to declare.
By this the Patriarchs, the Apostles, the
Blest Saints, and all the Martyr'd Fathers, be
Alive to this Day, and by this alone,
Man may with them still have Communion:
Thus Friends divided by the Hand of Fate,
By this alone are made inseperate,
For this gives tyes that cannot broken be,
By the weak Hand of frail Mortality.
All the Apostles of this Fruit did tast,
Which link'd their Hearts so fast.
By this Communion with each other, they
Kept, though they o're the Earthly World did stray
Apart; and those who did survive the rest,
Communion kept with those whose Deaths were blest
By martyrdom; which Courage stout did give
To know the Blisse in which their souls did live.
Thus blessed Denis, joyn'd in unity,
After their Deaths did Paul, and Peter see,
Crown'd with glorious Crowns of sacred Light,
Array'd with Robes of more than snowy white.
By this Fruit thus they after Death, with one
Another held a strict Communion.
Lesse Lovely, nor of lesser virtues are:
How sweetly kissing in the Dish they lye!
These are the Apples of true unity:
This precious Fruit bears Adamantine glew
Can chain a thousand Hearts aswel as two.
With true-Love Links fast in a Knot together:
That Hell, nor all his Ramms shall break the tether.
'Twixt Spirits this frames a true unity,
And binds with bands of best Community;
An hundred Hearts it can so fastly bind,
That they shall seem but all one Heart, and mind.
This can do more: for the dread stroke of Fate
By this Friends heares link'd cannot separate.
It tyes immortal gives, though Death can slay
The Carcasse, yet cannot take these tyes away,
279
Being joyn'd) they visit one another will.
By this the Saints a sweet Communion have,
With those who long since past the silent Grave.
For Death, to a Communion spiritual,
To such is no impediment at all.
Those out of Bodies with perspicuous eyes
Can see Hel's plots, and cruel subtilties;
And to their Friends they oft permitted are,
Those precipies timely to declare.
By this the Patriarchs, the Apostles, the
Blest Saints, and all the Martyr'd Fathers, be
Alive to this Day, and by this alone,
Man may with them still have Communion:
Thus Friends divided by the Hand of Fate,
By this alone are made inseperate,
For this gives tyes that cannot broken be,
By the weak Hand of frail Mortality.
All the Apostles of this Fruit did tast,
Which link'd their Hearts so fast.
By this Communion with each other, they
Kept, though they o're the Earthly World did stray
Apart; and those who did survive the rest,
Communion kept with those whose Deaths were blest
By martyrdom; which Courage stout did give
To know the Blisse in which their souls did live.
Thus blessed Denis, joyn'd in unity,
After their Deaths did Paul, and Peter see,
Crown'd with glorious Crowns of sacred Light,
Array'd with Robes of more than snowy white.
By this Fruit thus they after Death, with one
Another held a strict Communion.
That golden Pattin which stands next to this,
Of Fruits with brightnesse cloath'd the Arca is:
Heave'n's brightest Tapers in the Skies do blaze
With lesser Lustre; and lesse sparkling Rayes,
Than these: whose beamings and illustrous shine,
Preach their own Beauties, and their Worth divine.
We much desire that man should feed on this
Illustrous Fruit; for by this Fruit he is
Acquainted with us: by this Fruit alone,
We have with Him, and He has union
With us: by this our several Hierarchies
Our Beauty, splendor, and Attires he sees.
To Man by this illustrous Fruit alone
Our Care; and kind Philanthropie is known.
Here (could our Heav'nly Joys permit us grieve)
I could Threnoda's sing, 'cause Men deceive
Themselves; to think its any's Fault but their
Own, that we do not now so oft appear
As we have done in former Ages; No
The fault's not Ours but theirs we do not so.
The Reason why so oft we do not presse
From Heav'n to Earth is Man's unworthinesse.
What else can Mortals think that it should be?
Cann't we be cloath'd with visibility
With as much ease, as then, think they? or now
Grown old with Time, do also lasie grow?
Think they the space 'twixt Earth, and Heav'n more
Large, and wide drawn than in times before?
Or do they think our Love diminished?
Or that they of our helps now have no need?
Or do they on our Maker lay the blame?
That he to former Ages than to them
More Love did shew? think they him partial, that
We did on those, and not on them do wait?
Or do they think our King has more to do
In Heav'n for us, that he cann't spare us now?
What is't that peevish Mortals think? what e're
They think, it is their sins that keep us here,
Seal'd from their eyes; which hide this blessed Fruit,
So that they know not which way to come to 't:
For could they eat of it, they often would
With pleasure us familiarly behold.
In Ages past when we so frequent were
With Men, and did in Humane shapes appear;
Simplicity, and Innocency reign
Did among Men, they knew not how to gain
By lying Miracles: their Natures all-
Most like to ouers were Angelical:
But after Sathan broach'd his vanities
Which men suck'd in; he under our disguise
Of them deceiv'd; so his delicious food
They fed upon supposing it was good:
So as their sins encreas'd we disappear'd;
Whilst Sathan of his Conquests Trophies rear'd,
Which he by feigning Angels shapes did gain:
Whereby we did to Man obscure remain.
This now continues, so man thought at last,
Our dispensat'on of Appearing past:
And now he boldly if we do appear
As we were wont, averrs we Devils are.
But blinded he is ignorant that this
Fruit, God's most sacred Fruit, and blessing is,
Which still is free as e'r it was for Man,
Were he but worthy to obtain the same.
Of this fruit 'twas those holy Men did tast,
With whom we had, in all the ages past
Communion: for who do eat of it
We are for them, and they for us made fit:
We then to such shall not as strangers be,
But much frequent each others company.
Of Fruits with brightnesse cloath'd the Arca is:
Heave'n's brightest Tapers in the Skies do blaze
With lesser Lustre; and lesse sparkling Rayes,
Than these: whose beamings and illustrous shine,
Preach their own Beauties, and their Worth divine.
We much desire that man should feed on this
Illustrous Fruit; for by this Fruit he is
280
We have with Him, and He has union
With us: by this our several Hierarchies
Our Beauty, splendor, and Attires he sees.
To Man by this illustrous Fruit alone
Our Care; and kind Philanthropie is known.
Here (could our Heav'nly Joys permit us grieve)
I could Threnoda's sing, 'cause Men deceive
Themselves; to think its any's Fault but their
Own, that we do not now so oft appear
As we have done in former Ages; No
The fault's not Ours but theirs we do not so.
The Reason why so oft we do not presse
From Heav'n to Earth is Man's unworthinesse.
What else can Mortals think that it should be?
Cann't we be cloath'd with visibility
With as much ease, as then, think they? or now
Grown old with Time, do also lasie grow?
Think they the space 'twixt Earth, and Heav'n more
Large, and wide drawn than in times before?
Or do they think our Love diminished?
Or that they of our helps now have no need?
Or do they on our Maker lay the blame?
That he to former Ages than to them
More Love did shew? think they him partial, that
We did on those, and not on them do wait?
Or do they think our King has more to do
In Heav'n for us, that he cann't spare us now?
What is't that peevish Mortals think? what e're
They think, it is their sins that keep us here,
Seal'd from their eyes; which hide this blessed Fruit,
So that they know not which way to come to 't:
For could they eat of it, they often would
With pleasure us familiarly behold.
In Ages past when we so frequent were
With Men, and did in Humane shapes appear;
Simplicity, and Innocency reign
Did among Men, they knew not how to gain
By lying Miracles: their Natures all-
Most like to ouers were Angelical:
281
Which men suck'd in; he under our disguise
Of them deceiv'd; so his delicious food
They fed upon supposing it was good:
So as their sins encreas'd we disappear'd;
Whilst Sathan of his Conquests Trophies rear'd,
Which he by feigning Angels shapes did gain:
Whereby we did to Man obscure remain.
This now continues, so man thought at last,
Our dispensat'on of Appearing past:
And now he boldly if we do appear
As we were wont, averrs we Devils are.
But blinded he is ignorant that this
Fruit, God's most sacred Fruit, and blessing is,
Which still is free as e'r it was for Man,
Were he but worthy to obtain the same.
Of this fruit 'twas those holy Men did tast,
With whom we had, in all the ages past
Communion: for who do eat of it
We are for them, and they for us made fit:
We then to such shall not as strangers be,
But much frequent each others company.
That Royal Fruit which in that Dish doth lye,
Whose very looks with Wonders, maze the eye,
In beauty, and in virtue shall give way
To none, which fed thy blessed eyes to day,
See but what charmes are spread upon their cheek,
Their hew, and make, their wondrous virtue speaks.
This fruit indeed a faithlesse Faith expels,
And giveth one of working Miracles.
The Eater shall nothing too hard suppose
To be effected by him: for by those
Mountains may be remov'd, Seas made a Plain,
And all the Champain floated with the Main.
All living Creatures, and inanimate
Obey his Word, who of this Fruit have eat:
He miracles shall truly do, although
Beelzebub's servants will not own them so,
Or if they do, with belching Mouthes outright
They cry, they're done by their own Master's might;
When by this Fruit they're down, which you behold,
As also were true miracles of old.
By this great Moses Power had to divide
The blushing Seas: by this was Jordan dry'd
Twice by Elisha's Mantle: The Command
Of Joshua still enforc'd the Sun to stand.
By this Fruit also great Amozides
Repel'd the Dayes great Giant ten degrees.
Of this Fruit also blessed Jesus eat,
When he so many Wonders did Compleat,
That many Volumns cannot comprehend
The tythe of them: his Wonders have no end.
By this the bless'd Apostles did effect
Their Miracles: Wonders with Wonders backt.
Great Thaumaturgus when the VVord he spake,
By this Fruits Virtue dryed up a Lake.
By this the latter ages not a few
Have Wonders done; and VVonders more shall do:
For time draws nigh wherein this Fruit shall then,
Not such a stranger be to Mortal Men.
Whose very looks with Wonders, maze the eye,
In beauty, and in virtue shall give way
To none, which fed thy blessed eyes to day,
See but what charmes are spread upon their cheek,
Their hew, and make, their wondrous virtue speaks.
This fruit indeed a faithlesse Faith expels,
And giveth one of working Miracles.
The Eater shall nothing too hard suppose
To be effected by him: for by those
Mountains may be remov'd, Seas made a Plain,
And all the Champain floated with the Main.
All living Creatures, and inanimate
Obey his Word, who of this Fruit have eat:
He miracles shall truly do, although
Beelzebub's servants will not own them so,
Or if they do, with belching Mouthes outright
They cry, they're done by their own Master's might;
282
As also were true miracles of old.
By this great Moses Power had to divide
The blushing Seas: by this was Jordan dry'd
Twice by Elisha's Mantle: The Command
Of Joshua still enforc'd the Sun to stand.
By this Fruit also great Amozides
Repel'd the Dayes great Giant ten degrees.
Of this Fruit also blessed Jesus eat,
When he so many Wonders did Compleat,
That many Volumns cannot comprehend
The tythe of them: his Wonders have no end.
By this the bless'd Apostles did effect
Their Miracles: Wonders with Wonders backt.
Great Thaumaturgus when the VVord he spake,
By this Fruits Virtue dryed up a Lake.
By this the latter ages not a few
Have Wonders done; and VVonders more shall do:
For time draws nigh wherein this Fruit shall then,
Not such a stranger be to Mortal Men.
The next Dish holds five glorious Apples, that
Man's five internal Sences animate,
The first whose beauties are so excellent
That plunge Spectators into ravishment,
Unlocks the crystal pyla's of the eye,
Permitting it Heav'n's Beauties to descry.
By that the inner eye hath oft a sight
In sacred Visions of Æternal Light
Of this bless'd place, and of the Throne of blisse,
Where our great King's immortal Splendor is.
By that we may be seen; by that the eyes
Behold the inner-VVorld's varieties:
And all the Spirits that created be,
In all the World's perspicuously see:
By this Elisha's servant's eyes unbarr'd
Were, when he saw his Master's fiery guard:
John's, Jame's, and Peter's when th' on Tabor saw
Elias, Christ; the Giver of the Law.
Man's five internal Sences animate,
The first whose beauties are so excellent
That plunge Spectators into ravishment,
Unlocks the crystal pyla's of the eye,
Permitting it Heav'n's Beauties to descry.
By that the inner eye hath oft a sight
In sacred Visions of Æternal Light
Of this bless'd place, and of the Throne of blisse,
Where our great King's immortal Splendor is.
By that we may be seen; by that the eyes
Behold the inner-VVorld's varieties:
And all the Spirits that created be,
In all the World's perspicuously see:
By this Elisha's servant's eyes unbarr'd
Were, when he saw his Master's fiery guard:
John's, Jame's, and Peter's when th' on Tabor saw
Elias, Christ; the Giver of the Law.
The second that in yellow Ornaments,
Doth ravish with a thousand blandishments,
Continually a golden Key doth bear
VVhich opes the Portals of the inner ear.
Through which the Sounds of Paradise do go,
And the cœlestial Harpers musique flow:
Th'row which the inner World's sweet Harmony,
And all the Angels mystic voyces fly.
By this young Samuel's tender eares were bor'd:
When he the voyce heard of our Soveraign Lord.
And divine John's, when he did hear the voyce,
Like to the rushing of enraged Seas.
Doth ravish with a thousand blandishments,
283
VVhich opes the Portals of the inner ear.
Through which the Sounds of Paradise do go,
And the cœlestial Harpers musique flow:
Th'row which the inner World's sweet Harmony,
And all the Angels mystic voyces fly.
By this young Samuel's tender eares were bor'd:
When he the voyce heard of our Soveraign Lord.
And divine John's, when he did hear the voyce,
Like to the rushing of enraged Seas.
The third which doth the Indian Nard excel,
Or all the spice of Arabie in smell,
The inner smelling Sence's gates doth wide
Set ope; th'row which Cœlestial Odors slide;
Th'row which the sweet Perfume of Paradise,
To cheer the Brain and Spirits sweetly flyes.
Or all the spice of Arabie in smell,
The inner smelling Sence's gates doth wide
Set ope; th'row which Cœlestial Odors slide;
Th'row which the sweet Perfume of Paradise,
To cheer the Brain and Spirits sweetly flyes.
The fourth whose sweetnesse Honey far exceeds,
With dews of Paradise the Eater feeds;
By that the Manna of Jerusalem,
To tast is often granted unto him,
By that his tongue on food divine doth tast,
And's inner Palat on Heav'n's sweets doth feast.
With dews of Paradise the Eater feeds;
By that the Manna of Jerusalem,
To tast is often granted unto him,
By that his tongue on food divine doth tast,
And's inner Palat on Heav'n's sweets doth feast.
The last whose slicknesse far exceeds the silk,
Whose snowy whitenesse far the purest milk,
Gives to the Eater sensibility
Of the Contactions of Divinity.
By it he feels those pleasant thrillings, which
His Soul with the extreamest Joyes enrich;
Those burning tinctures of the deepest Love
Which round his Heart with matchlesse pleasures move.
Of these three last the holy Saints did feed,
Be'ing granted to them in the time of need,
When persecution's mouth with all its power,
Sought them with cruel torments to devour,
Those then were Cordials to support the Hearts,
'Gainst persecution's cruel Flames, and Darts,
Whose snowy whitenesse far the purest milk,
Gives to the Eater sensibility
Of the Contactions of Divinity.
By it he feels those pleasant thrillings, which
His Soul with the extreamest Joyes enrich;
Those burning tinctures of the deepest Love
Which round his Heart with matchlesse pleasures move.
Of these three last the holy Saints did feed,
Be'ing granted to them in the time of need,
When persecution's mouth with all its power,
Sought them with cruel torments to devour,
Those then were Cordials to support the Hearts,
'Gainst persecution's cruel Flames, and Darts,
The lowest Dish which doth conclude the Feast,
Though it comes last, yet is it not the least;
The Fruit it holds is of such price, and Worth,
That it will lose much by my setting forth:
Not all the Rhetoric an Angel has,
Sufficient is, this pretious Fruit to praise.
This is the Fruit that maketh Mortal Man
To be Jehovah's great Magitian,
Art-Magic this doth to the Eater shew,
And him with Heav'nly Sapience imbue:
Those Arts it gives are Sacred; and by this
A true Philosopher the Eater is.
In former Dayes this Fruit has frequent been
VVith Mortals, though it now is scarcely seen
Upon the Earth; for faithlesse they do call
All Geocy, that's supernatural:
As if that God in Earth resign'd his Right
Had unto Hell, or that his glorious Might
VVere to be ty'd, unto the poor dimention
Of shallow Man's more shallow comprehension.
This Art indeed to Man is scarcely known,
For at his back he has the Substance thrown
For to embrace meer shadows, or what's worse
Arts which upon their Students pull a Curse.
VVhat's all the Knowledge that the World affords,
But empty shadows, vain, and windy VVords?
This Art deserves the Name of Art alone,
Although to Man it be so little known;
In which are Depths, unfathomable, Seas
VVhere greatest Wits may swim, and if they please,
In which is something more than Notions; and
Things that with the sublimest Wits may stand.
Great Miracles this Magic-Art affords,
Not caus'd by joyning superstitious words,
But in the true Name of Jehovah all
Wonders are done, if truly magical.
Though it comes last, yet is it not the least;
The Fruit it holds is of such price, and Worth,
That it will lose much by my setting forth:
284
Sufficient is, this pretious Fruit to praise.
This is the Fruit that maketh Mortal Man
To be Jehovah's great Magitian,
Art-Magic this doth to the Eater shew,
And him with Heav'nly Sapience imbue:
Those Arts it gives are Sacred; and by this
A true Philosopher the Eater is.
In former Dayes this Fruit has frequent been
VVith Mortals, though it now is scarcely seen
Upon the Earth; for faithlesse they do call
All Geocy, that's supernatural:
As if that God in Earth resign'd his Right
Had unto Hell, or that his glorious Might
VVere to be ty'd, unto the poor dimention
Of shallow Man's more shallow comprehension.
This Art indeed to Man is scarcely known,
For at his back he has the Substance thrown
For to embrace meer shadows, or what's worse
Arts which upon their Students pull a Curse.
VVhat's all the Knowledge that the World affords,
But empty shadows, vain, and windy VVords?
This Art deserves the Name of Art alone,
Although to Man it be so little known;
In which are Depths, unfathomable, Seas
VVhere greatest Wits may swim, and if they please,
In which is something more than Notions; and
Things that with the sublimest Wits may stand.
Great Miracles this Magic-Art affords,
Not caus'd by joyning superstitious words,
But in the true Name of Jehovah all
Wonders are done, if truly magical.
But what's the Reason that this Art is lost,
And with it all true Sapience almost
Now in this latter, but yet wicked Times?
'Tis Man who hath obscur'd it with his crimes;
And subtle Sathan by his cunning: who
The Name of Wisdom makes a Bug-bear too.
Since Simon spoil'd the Name of Magus, all
Hell's Necromancers they Magitians call:
A Name of Glory once, though now the same
Is by the World us'd as a Brand of shame.
What makes the World suppose, that there can be
No VVonder done but by Necromancy?
No action that is metaphysical
But men suppose it Diabollical?
What makes them that they do themselves deceive?
And that there's Magic that's divine believe
Will not? 'tis cause the worldly Wise have sought
To find it out and have effected nought.
How many are there who have sought to find
This sacred Fruit! yet they have proved blind,
And by the Devils subtle tricks have been
Turn'd from the Path, when they were rightly in.
Some they two dozen years have sat, or more,
(And were as wise then as they were before)
Reading (so long until they could not see)
The moldy Volumns of Antiquity:
Toying amongst that antiquated ware
To find the Stone of the Philosopher.
But such because they sought, and sought in vain,
VVith Lies maliciously the Truth arraign;
And 'cause they missed have their Aym, thy cry
There's no such thing: a meer deceit; A ly.
Such great Ablepsie doth in others brain
Lye, that they cannot see, though it be plain,
Before their eyes: and though it couched be
In mystic, and yet plain Philosophy.
True Books they have, but yet their blinking mind,
Among those Truths cannot the true way find,
No Philosophic VVritings, but they pore
Upon them, read, and turn them o're, and o're:
Plato they o're and o're so often turn
'Till with their Thummings he's in pieces worn.
And so they also with their fumbling fists,
Mouze all to pieces twenty Tresmegists.
Then Plotinus so often is turn'd o're,
And sullied, that they can read no more.
At last, their Patience being worn thred-bare,
VVith Aristotle they contented are;
And on his Metaphysics groveling lye
Or soar no higher than the starry Sky:
Having in him once mounted a degree
Philosophers in fashion then they be:
Then these are wise men: why? because they know
The natural causes of some things below.
Not thus content they wrangling Sophists turn,
And at true wise men, and true Wisdom spurn.
But others with an Apetite canine
Fall to the Ægyptian mysterie divine
Couch'd in their Hieroglyphics: but such bones
They find to pick; that wearied; for the nonce
They cry, these painted pictures of deceit
Were only made Philosophers to cheat;
That under them no mysteries do lye,
Of Learning, nor yet of Divinity:
Thus vainest Fools do still calumniate,
Those sacred Reliques which they cann't come at;
Barking against them, in an angry tune,
Like churlish Currs that bait the fair-fac'd Morn.
Another sort (as wise as all the rest)
Their wits with the Arabian wise men feast,
And all the modern Wise men, where with pains
And diligence, they strive to crack their Brains.
Geber so oft mark'd with their nails is spil'd,
And Lully with black interlines is fil'd.
Arnold, and Riply with an hundred more,
Are with notes in the margent scribled o're.
From these now having gain'd a Theory,
They practice for the stone in Alchimie;
And having vapour'd all their Coyn in smoak
Their good Opinion of the Stone revoke,
Of whom some cry to others that they should
No longer be with vain Opinions fool'd.
For by experience wofully they find
There's no such Stone: And why? because they'r blind.
But others of them (who more spitefull are)
Because that they themselves deceived were,
Turn base Impostures, and the simple cheat
By many a jugling, and prestigious feat.
Thus by imposture full of filthy shame,
They bring on Chymic Arts an odious Name.
Others of them do full as bad, or worse,
Cheating mens Wits as these do cheat their Purse,
For these desiring for to get a Name,
(No matter how, so they can purchase Fame)
Would fain be thought for to have gain'd the Stone
Which they forsooth will give to every one
Out of their charity, but lest profane
Men, and unworthy should this purchase gain,
They must write in an ænigmatic style,
Where they with simple fopperies beguile
Their studious Readers; and in mystic guise
Without controul invent a thousand Lies.
Then imitating some Philosophers,
Who might have Truths divine couch'd under theirs,
They talk of Dragons, black, and green, and Red,
Of mystic Virgins being brought to Bed,
Of maidens Milk of Caput Mortuums,
Of black turn'd white; then when the blessing comes
Their admonitions unto secresie,
Wish such like stuff and simple foppery:
Where Men may sooner find a Mine of Gold
Than in such Books a line of sence behold,
Which being seen the World cryes on them shame,
And 'cause of them all mystic Writings blame:
Thus by impostures tricks, and Knaveries,
The Truth's intangled with obscurities.
But others thinking these choyce Fruits to gain,
With tedious lucubrations, and pain
Have courted Princely Ptolomie to show
Them, in what place among the Stars they grow.
Then into Haly greedily they pry,
And search the shining Records of the Sky,
Visit the Poles; and all the Planets, and
Those Volumns penn'd by the Almightie's Hand;
But missing there the thing they sought for, they
Out of vexation fling their Books away;
Or else turn Prophets, and prognosticate,
Of Winds, Rains, snows, Subjects, and Rulers fate:
Who broaching ignorantly grosse mistakes
Make the Art evil spok'n of for their sakes.
Others there are which for this Fruit do seek
In the Meanders of Arithmetic,
Into those deep Arcana's down they dive
In Number's grave burying themselves alive,
Those speak by Figures, and by nodds least they,
Breaking their silence should themselves betray:
What mystic Monad, perfect Quadrats, Trines,
What double Numbers, and unlucky Signes
Of odd conjoyned Figures, and the like
They have! which in't amaze the unlearned strike:
But some whose patience worn out with their Book,
Into Pythag'ras can no longer look;
(Whose suppositious pamphlets in his Name
Which bring to that Philosopher great shame)
Cry out all is Deceit that Numbers be,
And all the Art but mystic Knavery.
And thus the World by witnesse testifies
Against the Truth hid in all mysteries.
Others notorious in their Notarie
Art, juggle with as simple Foppery,
Thinking this noble Magic may be took,
From the Loines of some suppositious Book
Of Apollonius, or of Salomon
Which these blind Dotards, dote too much upon.
These superstitious make a wondrous doe
With mystic Names of God, and words, not true,
Meerly invented with full sounds to awe
The Ignorant, with superstition's Law.
But when they see themselves beguiled by
This pious-fac'd-deceitful Theurgy,
They to the World with open mouth proclaim,
Their own Ablepsie, ignorance, and shame;
Whereby the sacred Hebrew mysteries
In Names too deep for them the blind despise.
Another sort of Men there is, who do
Long earnestly to be Magitians too,
Tritemiu's, and Agrippa's Books they get,
By which each Note, and Character they set
In their due place; their Crosses, Lamens, and
Their Pentacles must all in order stand,
Their Tapors, Swords, and consecrated Oyl,
With other stuff (the easier to beguile
Themselves) they fit; assaulting by and by
The Camp of Devils with their Geocy.
How eas'ly to them doth the Devil yield,
And let them for his gain to win the Field,
Being commanded for a while, that he,
At last a Tyrant o're their Souls might be!
But some repenting timely did impart
Hel's cunning, and the Follies of that Art,
By which the World so fearful grew, and fell
To think all natural Magic came from Hell,
So Paracelsus, nor Agrippa, nor
More skil'd in natural Magic could prefer
Its Wonders to the World, but for their pains
They branded were for Hel's Magitians.
But others whom Hel's wretched Prince can gain,
With a black union their dear Souls to stain,
Dive to the botton of Hel's Arts, and there
Indeed great dark-Magitians appear:
These Necromancers freely he indues
With Wonder-working Pow'r, his Kingdom shews
To them: and triumphs greatly that he can,
Make known his Power by the arm of Man.
These can do Wonders, and the World amaze:
Such might on Man, mighty Belzebub lays:
Such was great Jannes, such was Mambres, or
Black Elymas, the wicked Sorcerer:
And such was Simon, who oft back'd a Cloud
And th'row the Ayr rode in his Chariot proud.
These Men the World with such great fear infected,
That mysteries divine became suspected,
Science was lost, and Ceremonies all,
Accounted were, or Diabollical,
Or superstitious, and the very Name
Of Magic tainted, odious became.
Thus divine Magic was obscured; and
Men won't believe, that Heav'n's all-mighty Hand
Can by his proper instrument disclose
His mighty Pow'r, Hel's Magi to oppose,
And that great Man, by Heav'n enabled, shew
Can, as great Wonders as all Hell can do.
But if such should appear the World would strait
Them, Hel's black Necromancers nominate,
Call us black Devils, or base Incubies
If they but hear that Man our Faces sees:
Thus you may see how Men themselves do cheat,
With Fear, and the opinion of Deceit.
Thus Truth, and the true magic that's divine,
Wrap'd o're with pitch, alone doth inly shine:
And is a Jewel lock'd up from the VVorld
That so much Durt, and mire at it has hurl'd.
And with it all true Sapience almost
Now in this latter, but yet wicked Times?
'Tis Man who hath obscur'd it with his crimes;
And subtle Sathan by his cunning: who
The Name of Wisdom makes a Bug-bear too.
Since Simon spoil'd the Name of Magus, all
Hell's Necromancers they Magitians call:
285
Is by the World us'd as a Brand of shame.
What makes the World suppose, that there can be
No VVonder done but by Necromancy?
No action that is metaphysical
But men suppose it Diabollical?
What makes them that they do themselves deceive?
And that there's Magic that's divine believe
Will not? 'tis cause the worldly Wise have sought
To find it out and have effected nought.
How many are there who have sought to find
This sacred Fruit! yet they have proved blind,
And by the Devils subtle tricks have been
Turn'd from the Path, when they were rightly in.
Some they two dozen years have sat, or more,
(And were as wise then as they were before)
Reading (so long until they could not see)
The moldy Volumns of Antiquity:
Toying amongst that antiquated ware
To find the Stone of the Philosopher.
But such because they sought, and sought in vain,
VVith Lies maliciously the Truth arraign;
And 'cause they missed have their Aym, thy cry
There's no such thing: a meer deceit; A ly.
Such great Ablepsie doth in others brain
Lye, that they cannot see, though it be plain,
Before their eyes: and though it couched be
In mystic, and yet plain Philosophy.
True Books they have, but yet their blinking mind,
Among those Truths cannot the true way find,
No Philosophic VVritings, but they pore
Upon them, read, and turn them o're, and o're:
Plato they o're and o're so often turn
'Till with their Thummings he's in pieces worn.
And so they also with their fumbling fists,
Mouze all to pieces twenty Tresmegists.
Then Plotinus so often is turn'd o're,
And sullied, that they can read no more.
At last, their Patience being worn thred-bare,
VVith Aristotle they contented are;
286
Or soar no higher than the starry Sky:
Having in him once mounted a degree
Philosophers in fashion then they be:
Then these are wise men: why? because they know
The natural causes of some things below.
Not thus content they wrangling Sophists turn,
And at true wise men, and true Wisdom spurn.
But others with an Apetite canine
Fall to the Ægyptian mysterie divine
Couch'd in their Hieroglyphics: but such bones
They find to pick; that wearied; for the nonce
They cry, these painted pictures of deceit
Were only made Philosophers to cheat;
That under them no mysteries do lye,
Of Learning, nor yet of Divinity:
Thus vainest Fools do still calumniate,
Those sacred Reliques which they cann't come at;
Barking against them, in an angry tune,
Like churlish Currs that bait the fair-fac'd Morn.
Another sort (as wise as all the rest)
Their wits with the Arabian wise men feast,
And all the modern Wise men, where with pains
And diligence, they strive to crack their Brains.
Geber so oft mark'd with their nails is spil'd,
And Lully with black interlines is fil'd.
Arnold, and Riply with an hundred more,
Are with notes in the margent scribled o're.
From these now having gain'd a Theory,
They practice for the stone in Alchimie;
And having vapour'd all their Coyn in smoak
Their good Opinion of the Stone revoke,
Of whom some cry to others that they should
No longer be with vain Opinions fool'd.
For by experience wofully they find
There's no such Stone: And why? because they'r blind.
But others of them (who more spitefull are)
Because that they themselves deceived were,
Turn base Impostures, and the simple cheat
By many a jugling, and prestigious feat.
287
They bring on Chymic Arts an odious Name.
Others of them do full as bad, or worse,
Cheating mens Wits as these do cheat their Purse,
For these desiring for to get a Name,
(No matter how, so they can purchase Fame)
Would fain be thought for to have gain'd the Stone
Which they forsooth will give to every one
Out of their charity, but lest profane
Men, and unworthy should this purchase gain,
They must write in an ænigmatic style,
Where they with simple fopperies beguile
Their studious Readers; and in mystic guise
Without controul invent a thousand Lies.
Then imitating some Philosophers,
Who might have Truths divine couch'd under theirs,
They talk of Dragons, black, and green, and Red,
Of mystic Virgins being brought to Bed,
Of maidens Milk of Caput Mortuums,
Of black turn'd white; then when the blessing comes
Their admonitions unto secresie,
Wish such like stuff and simple foppery:
Where Men may sooner find a Mine of Gold
Than in such Books a line of sence behold,
Which being seen the World cryes on them shame,
And 'cause of them all mystic Writings blame:
Thus by impostures tricks, and Knaveries,
The Truth's intangled with obscurities.
But others thinking these choyce Fruits to gain,
With tedious lucubrations, and pain
Have courted Princely Ptolomie to show
Them, in what place among the Stars they grow.
Then into Haly greedily they pry,
And search the shining Records of the Sky,
Visit the Poles; and all the Planets, and
Those Volumns penn'd by the Almightie's Hand;
But missing there the thing they sought for, they
Out of vexation fling their Books away;
Or else turn Prophets, and prognosticate,
Of Winds, Rains, snows, Subjects, and Rulers fate:
288
Make the Art evil spok'n of for their sakes.
Others there are which for this Fruit do seek
In the Meanders of Arithmetic,
Into those deep Arcana's down they dive
In Number's grave burying themselves alive,
Those speak by Figures, and by nodds least they,
Breaking their silence should themselves betray:
What mystic Monad, perfect Quadrats, Trines,
What double Numbers, and unlucky Signes
Of odd conjoyned Figures, and the like
They have! which in't amaze the unlearned strike:
But some whose patience worn out with their Book,
Into Pythag'ras can no longer look;
(Whose suppositious pamphlets in his Name
Which bring to that Philosopher great shame)
Cry out all is Deceit that Numbers be,
And all the Art but mystic Knavery.
And thus the World by witnesse testifies
Against the Truth hid in all mysteries.
Others notorious in their Notarie
Art, juggle with as simple Foppery,
Thinking this noble Magic may be took,
From the Loines of some suppositious Book
Of Apollonius, or of Salomon
Which these blind Dotards, dote too much upon.
These superstitious make a wondrous doe
With mystic Names of God, and words, not true,
Meerly invented with full sounds to awe
The Ignorant, with superstition's Law.
But when they see themselves beguiled by
This pious-fac'd-deceitful Theurgy,
They to the World with open mouth proclaim,
Their own Ablepsie, ignorance, and shame;
Whereby the sacred Hebrew mysteries
In Names too deep for them the blind despise.
Another sort of Men there is, who do
Long earnestly to be Magitians too,
Tritemiu's, and Agrippa's Books they get,
By which each Note, and Character they set
289
Their Pentacles must all in order stand,
Their Tapors, Swords, and consecrated Oyl,
With other stuff (the easier to beguile
Themselves) they fit; assaulting by and by
The Camp of Devils with their Geocy.
How eas'ly to them doth the Devil yield,
And let them for his gain to win the Field,
Being commanded for a while, that he,
At last a Tyrant o're their Souls might be!
But some repenting timely did impart
Hel's cunning, and the Follies of that Art,
By which the World so fearful grew, and fell
To think all natural Magic came from Hell,
So Paracelsus, nor Agrippa, nor
More skil'd in natural Magic could prefer
Its Wonders to the World, but for their pains
They branded were for Hel's Magitians.
But others whom Hel's wretched Prince can gain,
With a black union their dear Souls to stain,
Dive to the botton of Hel's Arts, and there
Indeed great dark-Magitians appear:
These Necromancers freely he indues
With Wonder-working Pow'r, his Kingdom shews
To them: and triumphs greatly that he can,
Make known his Power by the arm of Man.
These can do Wonders, and the World amaze:
Such might on Man, mighty Belzebub lays:
Such was great Jannes, such was Mambres, or
Black Elymas, the wicked Sorcerer:
And such was Simon, who oft back'd a Cloud
And th'row the Ayr rode in his Chariot proud.
These Men the World with such great fear infected,
That mysteries divine became suspected,
Science was lost, and Ceremonies all,
Accounted were, or Diabollical,
Or superstitious, and the very Name
Of Magic tainted, odious became.
Thus divine Magic was obscured; and
Men won't believe, that Heav'n's all-mighty Hand
290
His mighty Pow'r, Hel's Magi to oppose,
And that great Man, by Heav'n enabled, shew
Can, as great Wonders as all Hell can do.
But if such should appear the World would strait
Them, Hel's black Necromancers nominate,
Call us black Devils, or base Incubies
If they but hear that Man our Faces sees:
Thus you may see how Men themselves do cheat,
With Fear, and the opinion of Deceit.
Thus Truth, and the true magic that's divine,
Wrap'd o're with pitch, alone doth inly shine:
And is a Jewel lock'd up from the VVorld
That so much Durt, and mire at it has hurl'd.
But don't you wonder what the reason is
That all (or most) men of their aym do misse?
And that this sacred Magic still in spite
Of all their searchings, is obscur'd in Night?
Labour all things o're-comes you think, and they
Investigated it have Night, and Day;
VVith toyl, and sweat, pains indifagitable
And all the forces that their wits were able
To muster, for This searched have, and yet
The knowledge of this Magic cannot get.
The Fault's their own; for they wrong wayes have took
And the true Road to Blisse, and it forsook.
Their selfish wit, and wisdome this have wrought,
And from fair Truth's to errors paths have brought
Them; 'Cause they saw the way that to it led
Simple, and plain, therefore the same they fled:
They this forgot: TRUTH doth all coverings flee:
That to be Wise, is first a Fool to be.
Money, not Wit may be the purchasers
Of it; Obedience chiefly this infers.
This Magic's sacred, holy, and Divine,
By God himself hid from the World's dull eyne:
Does Man then think that all his witlesse wit,
And prying's able to discover it?
Unlesse God with his Finger shew't himself,
In vain they wast their wits, their Time, their Pelf,
This then is one cause why so many fail,
Because they do to their own wits intail
The knowledge of it: for they never doubt
But by their Wisdom for to find it out.
But this Pearl God hath hidden from the eyes
(In ten-fold pitch) of all such VVorldly-wise,
And sooner may they crack their troubled Brain,
Than one poor glimpse of this deep myst'ry gain:
God doth it to a seav'n-fold Chest commit,
And Prayer is one holy Key of it.
Another Reason why this Pearl they misse
Because they slight the sacred Scriptures, is;
Trusting more to the Heathens Scriptures, than
Those which contain all happinesse for Man,
As if (because their vain Philosophy
They cannot in that blessed Writ descry)
The true Philosophy that is divine,
Therein with sacred Lustre did not shine:
But those will find, who pierce the mysterie
A Philosophic, high divinity.
The way to Blisse, and to this Magic, there
Unseal'd to eyes enlightn'd will appear.
Man's Heart's deceitful, full of subtle wiles,
Both others, and himself he oft beguiles,
His Heart's corrupt, for though he seeks for Blisse
A foul Colluvies at the bottom is:
God this beholds, and whatsoe're he seems
To man, he sees his close intents and Aimes.
Many investigate this Pearl: But why?
Some some selfish aimes close in their Hearts do lye;
But such must know, all self must lay'd aside
Be, or they else shall ever be deny'd.
FAME, and Renown infuse some short-liv'd hear,
Which causes some upon this Work to set;
Poor blast of Ayr which shuffles Man to Pride!
That Man expect should to be satisfied!
That God should yield to him, and not deny
His Lust, and Humours vain to satisfie!
He who hath aimes besides God's glory, shall
If clime unto this Art, but gain a Fall.
How many see the Philosophers Stone
(Part of this Art, and but the meanest One)
Out of meer Avarice, and hope of gain;
Hoping it will be their God Æschylane.
These are the Spurs, wherewith themselves they rouze
When they th'rough Pains their dulled Spirits loose,
But such at last, when their Spurs dulled are,
Tire, and yield up themselves unto despair;
Who have no better Spurs than these, the mire
They must go th'row their lazy jades shall tyre:
But the true seekers of the noble Stone,
Have golden Spurs to spurious such unknown.
These be the Reasons why so many misse
The STONF; and their investigated Blisse.
That all (or most) men of their aym do misse?
And that this sacred Magic still in spite
Of all their searchings, is obscur'd in Night?
Labour all things o're-comes you think, and they
Investigated it have Night, and Day;
VVith toyl, and sweat, pains indifagitable
And all the forces that their wits were able
To muster, for This searched have, and yet
The knowledge of this Magic cannot get.
The Fault's their own; for they wrong wayes have took
And the true Road to Blisse, and it forsook.
Their selfish wit, and wisdome this have wrought,
And from fair Truth's to errors paths have brought
Them; 'Cause they saw the way that to it led
Simple, and plain, therefore the same they fled:
They this forgot: TRUTH doth all coverings flee:
That to be Wise, is first a Fool to be.
Money, not Wit may be the purchasers
Of it; Obedience chiefly this infers.
This Magic's sacred, holy, and Divine,
By God himself hid from the World's dull eyne:
Does Man then think that all his witlesse wit,
And prying's able to discover it?
Unlesse God with his Finger shew't himself,
In vain they wast their wits, their Time, their Pelf,
291
Because they do to their own wits intail
The knowledge of it: for they never doubt
But by their Wisdom for to find it out.
But this Pearl God hath hidden from the eyes
(In ten-fold pitch) of all such VVorldly-wise,
And sooner may they crack their troubled Brain,
Than one poor glimpse of this deep myst'ry gain:
God doth it to a seav'n-fold Chest commit,
And Prayer is one holy Key of it.
Another Reason why this Pearl they misse
Because they slight the sacred Scriptures, is;
Trusting more to the Heathens Scriptures, than
Those which contain all happinesse for Man,
As if (because their vain Philosophy
They cannot in that blessed Writ descry)
The true Philosophy that is divine,
Therein with sacred Lustre did not shine:
But those will find, who pierce the mysterie
A Philosophic, high divinity.
The way to Blisse, and to this Magic, there
Unseal'd to eyes enlightn'd will appear.
Man's Heart's deceitful, full of subtle wiles,
Both others, and himself he oft beguiles,
His Heart's corrupt, for though he seeks for Blisse
A foul Colluvies at the bottom is:
God this beholds, and whatsoe're he seems
To man, he sees his close intents and Aimes.
Many investigate this Pearl: But why?
Some some selfish aimes close in their Hearts do lye;
But such must know, all self must lay'd aside
Be, or they else shall ever be deny'd.
FAME, and Renown infuse some short-liv'd hear,
Which causes some upon this Work to set;
Poor blast of Ayr which shuffles Man to Pride!
That Man expect should to be satisfied!
That God should yield to him, and not deny
His Lust, and Humours vain to satisfie!
He who hath aimes besides God's glory, shall
If clime unto this Art, but gain a Fall.
292
(Part of this Art, and but the meanest One)
Out of meer Avarice, and hope of gain;
Hoping it will be their God Æschylane.
These are the Spurs, wherewith themselves they rouze
When they th'rough Pains their dulled Spirits loose,
But such at last, when their Spurs dulled are,
Tire, and yield up themselves unto despair;
Who have no better Spurs than these, the mire
They must go th'row their lazy jades shall tyre:
But the true seekers of the noble Stone,
Have golden Spurs to spurious such unknown.
These be the Reasons why so many misse
The STONF; and their investigated Blisse.
To thee dear Pilgrim need I not to shew
The way to Magic; 'tis the Way which you
Have come, and there's no other Path which guides
To this Cœlestial Art of Arts besides.
'Tis not the selfish Wise man this can gain,
'Tis not the Covetous shall this attain,
'Tis not the thirsty after Glory, shall
Be able once to touch this Magical
And happy Fruit; from such it's safely kept
By an huge Dragon, whose eyes never slept;
Those who this Fruit will gain must first outright
O're-come this Dragon in a single Fight.
O man thou must Regenerated be
Before thine eyes this happy Fruit can see,
For none but Children gain this Diadem;
Children of Love: it is preserv'd for them;
Children of Innocence; who washed are
In blest Regeneration's Lavar fair.
This happy Fruit by the free Hand of Heav'n,
To such Regenerated Babes is given:
By which from Babes to an exalted pitch
They'r rais'd, and so become Men wise, and Rich;
Rich in those Treasures, whose most simple Gemm,
The World doth, and its richest Riches shame.
This gift is Free, and yet it must be sought,
Yet by true Resignation 'tis bought.
God gives a portion small at first, but so
As it Man uses, shall his Talent grow.
But never let Man hope for this estate
'Til 's heart is pure, and Regenerate;
You know great Riches, and high Honours are
The Devil's strongest, unresisted snare,
By which oft-times he Souls doth overthrow,
Who pious were, e'r they those Baits did know:
Think you that God then int' Man's hands will put
So sharp a Weapon his own Throat to Cut?
Think you he will to him the Stone disclose,
'Til how to use it for his good he knows?
Nor knows Man how to use it 'till that he;
(First truly Dead) Regenerated be:
Then let all, who this Art investigate;
In Soul and Body be regenerate:
Then if they ask, they shall receive the prize:
If Knock the sealed Door assunder flyes:
If seek, they find: if pray, they'r heard: Thus I
Have shew'd the true way to Felicity,
The way whereby this Fruit may be attain'd:
Whereby the much desired STONE is gain'd.
The way to Magic; 'tis the Way which you
Have come, and there's no other Path which guides
To this Cœlestial Art of Arts besides.
'Tis not the selfish Wise man this can gain,
'Tis not the Covetous shall this attain,
'Tis not the thirsty after Glory, shall
Be able once to touch this Magical
And happy Fruit; from such it's safely kept
By an huge Dragon, whose eyes never slept;
Those who this Fruit will gain must first outright
O're-come this Dragon in a single Fight.
O man thou must Regenerated be
Before thine eyes this happy Fruit can see,
For none but Children gain this Diadem;
Children of Love: it is preserv'd for them;
Children of Innocence; who washed are
In blest Regeneration's Lavar fair.
This happy Fruit by the free Hand of Heav'n,
To such Regenerated Babes is given:
By which from Babes to an exalted pitch
They'r rais'd, and so become Men wise, and Rich;
Rich in those Treasures, whose most simple Gemm,
The World doth, and its richest Riches shame.
This gift is Free, and yet it must be sought,
Yet by true Resignation 'tis bought.
293
As it Man uses, shall his Talent grow.
But never let Man hope for this estate
'Til 's heart is pure, and Regenerate;
You know great Riches, and high Honours are
The Devil's strongest, unresisted snare,
By which oft-times he Souls doth overthrow,
Who pious were, e'r they those Baits did know:
Think you that God then int' Man's hands will put
So sharp a Weapon his own Throat to Cut?
Think you he will to him the Stone disclose,
'Til how to use it for his good he knows?
Nor knows Man how to use it 'till that he;
(First truly Dead) Regenerated be:
Then let all, who this Art investigate;
In Soul and Body be regenerate:
Then if they ask, they shall receive the prize:
If Knock the sealed Door assunder flyes:
If seek, they find: if pray, they'r heard: Thus I
Have shew'd the true way to Felicity,
The way whereby this Fruit may be attain'd:
Whereby the much desired STONE is gain'd.
He then who pure is, and Regenerate
And blessed so, that he may freely eat
Of this beatifying Fruit, he then
Becomes Heav'n's SOPHUS, or Magitian.
O those bless'd Bonds which fast together tye,
God, and the Soul, Man and the Deity!
Nothing's impossible for him to do,
Who this blessed state, and pitch attain'd has to,
For if to him, to God it must be so;
His Will is God's, they are no longer two:
He willeth nothing but by Heav'n's own Will:
Then what shall dare not his Command fulfill?
He now is Soveraign over the World, and all
Things, that therein are shall obey his Call.
For by this Art of divine Magic, he
May shroud him in invisibility:
Walk on the Clouds: stand in a flame of Fire;
And th'row the walls, if dores be shut retire:
May walk upon the surliest Seas, while they
Smoothing their rugged Fronts his feet obey.
To him diseases bow their eager heads,
And at his touch they leave their nasty beds
And fly to Hell, from whence they came; for by
His touch, and Word restor'd is Purity.
Of Vegitables the true use he knows;
The poyson in each herb away he throws,
And perfect Chymist by Spagyric Art,
Hell from Heav'n's Essence, Drosse from Gold can part.
Both Animals, and Minerals also,
He not by guesse, but perfectly doth know:
As Man may in a Mirrour see his Face,
So he their virtues through their outward Case.
No thing's unknown to him, all Arts that be,
Unmask'd are, and he views their Verity.
Metals he may transmute: the Stone by which
They are exalted to their highest pitch
Of perfectnesse he has: which will unfold
The way to change all Mettals into Gold.
Not only Bodies are at his Command
But all created Spirits also stand
To do his Will: The sneeking Devils are
If he Commands enforced to appear
VVith louting Heads, and trailing Tails, and eyes
Dejected, to behold themselves made prize:
To see that Man, whom they triumph'd upon,
Now to have Rule and be a Lord o're them.
O they had rather to the darkest place
Of Hell run, than behold their own disgrace,
For if he cometh where they be, they run
Into the lowest darknesse headlong down;
For they his eyes as much now hate to see,
As the bright splendor of Æternity;
For they behold him with that glory clad,
As once themselves before they lapsed had.
All Earthly Spirits also prest do stand
Ready to do, what he shall them Command:
Those in the Fire yield a joynt consent
To wait upon him in their Element.
Those in the Water, and the deepest Sea
All his Commands are ready to obay.
Those in the Ayr, and Astral Regions too,
Their constant service at his beck do shew.
The holy Angels also do rejoyce,
And pleasure Him who is the Highest's choyce:
Thus all conspire to be his servants, and
VVith speed obay what he shall them Command,
Besides all these to him permitted 'tis,
To enter Gods own Treasury of Blisse,
In which he doth Arcana's deep behold,
Not fit unto the World for to be told;
The great Archæus of all things that be,
He doth in ev'ry World and Astra see.
Divinely taught; divinely learn'd indeed,
He Heav'n's Cabal, and mysteries doth read.
And thus is Heav'n's Magitian a King
Upon the Earth, to whom all Creatures bring
Their homage due unto that Image, that
In him appears, of the Incorporat,
And increated Deity: And thus
Man is co-equal with (nay more than) us.
What Adam lost he gains by this new Birth,
And is new-Crowned King, and God on Earth.
And blessed so, that he may freely eat
Of this beatifying Fruit, he then
Becomes Heav'n's SOPHUS, or Magitian.
O those bless'd Bonds which fast together tye,
God, and the Soul, Man and the Deity!
Nothing's impossible for him to do,
Who this blessed state, and pitch attain'd has to,
For if to him, to God it must be so;
His Will is God's, they are no longer two:
He willeth nothing but by Heav'n's own Will:
Then what shall dare not his Command fulfill?
He now is Soveraign over the World, and all
Things, that therein are shall obey his Call.
For by this Art of divine Magic, he
May shroud him in invisibility:
Walk on the Clouds: stand in a flame of Fire;
And th'row the walls, if dores be shut retire:
294
Smoothing their rugged Fronts his feet obey.
To him diseases bow their eager heads,
And at his touch they leave their nasty beds
And fly to Hell, from whence they came; for by
His touch, and Word restor'd is Purity.
Of Vegitables the true use he knows;
The poyson in each herb away he throws,
And perfect Chymist by Spagyric Art,
Hell from Heav'n's Essence, Drosse from Gold can part.
Both Animals, and Minerals also,
He not by guesse, but perfectly doth know:
As Man may in a Mirrour see his Face,
So he their virtues through their outward Case.
No thing's unknown to him, all Arts that be,
Unmask'd are, and he views their Verity.
Metals he may transmute: the Stone by which
They are exalted to their highest pitch
Of perfectnesse he has: which will unfold
The way to change all Mettals into Gold.
Not only Bodies are at his Command
But all created Spirits also stand
To do his Will: The sneeking Devils are
If he Commands enforced to appear
VVith louting Heads, and trailing Tails, and eyes
Dejected, to behold themselves made prize:
To see that Man, whom they triumph'd upon,
Now to have Rule and be a Lord o're them.
O they had rather to the darkest place
Of Hell run, than behold their own disgrace,
For if he cometh where they be, they run
Into the lowest darknesse headlong down;
For they his eyes as much now hate to see,
As the bright splendor of Æternity;
For they behold him with that glory clad,
As once themselves before they lapsed had.
All Earthly Spirits also prest do stand
Ready to do, what he shall them Command:
Those in the Fire yield a joynt consent
To wait upon him in their Element.
295
All his Commands are ready to obay.
Those in the Ayr, and Astral Regions too,
Their constant service at his beck do shew.
The holy Angels also do rejoyce,
And pleasure Him who is the Highest's choyce:
Thus all conspire to be his servants, and
VVith speed obay what he shall them Command,
Besides all these to him permitted 'tis,
To enter Gods own Treasury of Blisse,
In which he doth Arcana's deep behold,
Not fit unto the World for to be told;
The great Archæus of all things that be,
He doth in ev'ry World and Astra see.
Divinely taught; divinely learn'd indeed,
He Heav'n's Cabal, and mysteries doth read.
And thus is Heav'n's Magitian a King
Upon the Earth, to whom all Creatures bring
Their homage due unto that Image, that
In him appears, of the Incorporat,
And increated Deity: And thus
Man is co-equal with (nay more than) us.
What Adam lost he gains by this new Birth,
And is new-Crowned King, and God on Earth.
And such a Godlike King was Adam: All
So should have been but for his fatal Fall:
But few, and very few attain to this
Great Pearl of Wisdom; Fruit of matchlesse Blisse,
Now in these latter dayes: But Mortals may
E're long behold, the mighty lustrous Ray
Of this fair Fruit; which I may call the Best,
For in it is contained all the rest.
Heav'n's great Magitian mighty Moses had
Upon this Fruit by God's donation fed,
When he those VVonders in the Name of God
Did do in Ægypt with his Magic Rod:
That Rod which to a Serpent changed was,
And which again into a Rod did passe,
By this Fruit he God's MAGUS did become,
Performing VVonders in his mighty Name:
By this on Pharoh, and all Ægypt too,
He sev'n fold Plagues, and seav'n-fold Wonders threw.
By this the Seas he parts, which Crystal walls
Become: the Israelites by this with Quales,
And Manna bright he feeds; By this a knock
Opens the Springlets in the solid Rock.
By this he Gold makes potable; his face
With royal Rayes, by this incircled was.
Mose's successor by this Magic too,
The strong-built walls of Jerico o'rethrew.
By it Jerubaal did overthrow
The Midians mighty Host without a blow.
Jesus with Heav'nly Magic also fed
Four thousand people with sev'n Loaves of bread:
By it he fasted fourty dayes; he by
The same did with invisibility
Adorn himself, and 'mong a Multitude
Of foes, unseen he passed th'row the Croud.
By it he walked on the Seas, and yet
His soles the brinish Waters did not wet:
By it although the Doors fast locked were,
He could when e'r it pleased him appear.
So Paul by the Cœlestial Magic's might,
Depriv'd the Sorcerer Elymas of sight.
So Peter when Hel's Magus Simon flew,
Thorow the Ayr, him from the Clouds he threw
Unto the Earth, by Heav'n's true Magic's Skil,
Which Fall did both his Life, and Magic spill:
For Hel's dark Magic unto Heav'n's must yield;
Nor dares that come, when this is in the Field.
So should have been but for his fatal Fall:
But few, and very few attain to this
Great Pearl of Wisdom; Fruit of matchlesse Blisse,
Now in these latter dayes: But Mortals may
E're long behold, the mighty lustrous Ray
Of this fair Fruit; which I may call the Best,
For in it is contained all the rest.
Heav'n's great Magitian mighty Moses had
Upon this Fruit by God's donation fed,
When he those VVonders in the Name of God
Did do in Ægypt with his Magic Rod:
That Rod which to a Serpent changed was,
And which again into a Rod did passe,
By this Fruit he God's MAGUS did become,
Performing VVonders in his mighty Name:
296
He sev'n fold Plagues, and seav'n-fold Wonders threw.
By this the Seas he parts, which Crystal walls
Become: the Israelites by this with Quales,
And Manna bright he feeds; By this a knock
Opens the Springlets in the solid Rock.
By this he Gold makes potable; his face
With royal Rayes, by this incircled was.
Mose's successor by this Magic too,
The strong-built walls of Jerico o'rethrew.
By it Jerubaal did overthrow
The Midians mighty Host without a blow.
Jesus with Heav'nly Magic also fed
Four thousand people with sev'n Loaves of bread:
By it he fasted fourty dayes; he by
The same did with invisibility
Adorn himself, and 'mong a Multitude
Of foes, unseen he passed th'row the Croud.
By it he walked on the Seas, and yet
His soles the brinish Waters did not wet:
By it although the Doors fast locked were,
He could when e'r it pleased him appear.
So Paul by the Cœlestial Magic's might,
Depriv'd the Sorcerer Elymas of sight.
So Peter when Hel's Magus Simon flew,
Thorow the Ayr, him from the Clouds he threw
Unto the Earth, by Heav'n's true Magic's Skil,
Which Fall did both his Life, and Magic spill:
For Hel's dark Magic unto Heav'n's must yield;
Nor dares that come, when this is in the Field.
With great attention all this while attended
The Pilgrim, 'till the Angel thus had ended:
But ravish'd with the Knowledge of that Fruit
(Leave being given) he with joy fell to 't:
Fell to that Feast which was more excellent
Than twenty thousand out-worlds Complement,
That Feast which by Heav'n's proper Hand was dress'd,
That Feast which by Heav'n's sacred Breath was bless'd:
That sacred Banquet which instal'd the man
Heav'n's divine, and Arch-Magitian.
O with what pleasure, and delight he eat
On that Cœlestial, and thrice sacred meat!
But yet with humble reverence he fed,
Bowing to Jesus for those gifts his Head,
Confessing still his own unworthinesse,
Of that Felicity He did expresse.
But seeing Jesus by the Angel had
Granted him leave to eat, he freely fed.
The Pilgrim, 'till the Angel thus had ended:
But ravish'd with the Knowledge of that Fruit
(Leave being given) he with joy fell to 't:
Fell to that Feast which was more excellent
Than twenty thousand out-worlds Complement,
That Feast which by Heav'n's proper Hand was dress'd,
That Feast which by Heav'n's sacred Breath was bless'd:
That sacred Banquet which instal'd the man
Heav'n's divine, and Arch-Magitian.
297
On that Cœlestial, and thrice sacred meat!
But yet with humble reverence he fed,
Bowing to Jesus for those gifts his Head,
Confessing still his own unworthinesse,
Of that Felicity He did expresse.
But seeing Jesus by the Angel had
Granted him leave to eat, he freely fed.
Whilst thus the Pilgrim with a full content
Of Joy, and Blisse, and highest ravishment
Feeds on those blessed Fruits, an Angel from
Th' Æternal Throne doth to the Banquet come:
The presence of this unexpected Guest,
Startl'd the Pilgrim, and rejoyc'd the rest.
Such Crowns of Glory sat upon his Head,
Such beams of Light about his Garments spread,
Such Heav'nly Splendor flashed from his Eye,
That made him seem Heav'n's fair Æpitomy.
With a fairspeed he came, whilst the sweet ayr
Wav'd the soft streamlets of his golden Hair,
And ruffling his white Gown rub'd flame-tip'd darts
Against the tender Wounds of bleeding Hearts:
For his fair Garment pouder'd was all o're
With flaming Arrows whose sharp points still bore
Themselves against fresh bleeding Hearts; the Wind
At every puff seem'd cruel, and unkind,
For those by clashing seem'd to wound indeed,
And these afresh to be inflam'd and bleed.
These were the Ensigns of the Sacred'st Love,
At whose Command this Messenger did move.
But in his right Hand, all of shining Gold
Thick set with Rubies, he a Cup did hold;
Immortal Amaranthus's made up
Into a Purple Garland, Crown'd the Cup.
But in the Mazure's golden Concave lay,
Of Wine of Love divine a blushing Sea;
A deep drought of that Heav'nly Nectar which
Is broach'd for those who gain the highest pitch.
The Purple streams which fruitful Tmolus yields,
Th' exuberant Vines which crown the Massic Fields,
The Purple Grapes that on the Rhene do grow,
The scarlet Liquor that in Creet doth flow;
Spains sprightly Nectar, Greece's pleasant wine,
Should they compared be to this divine
Ambrosiac Liquor, all of them would prove
But Gall, and Wormwood to this Wine of LOVE.
Of Joy, and Blisse, and highest ravishment
Feeds on those blessed Fruits, an Angel from
Th' Æternal Throne doth to the Banquet come:
The presence of this unexpected Guest,
Startl'd the Pilgrim, and rejoyc'd the rest.
Such Crowns of Glory sat upon his Head,
Such beams of Light about his Garments spread,
Such Heav'nly Splendor flashed from his Eye,
That made him seem Heav'n's fair Æpitomy.
With a fairspeed he came, whilst the sweet ayr
Wav'd the soft streamlets of his golden Hair,
And ruffling his white Gown rub'd flame-tip'd darts
Against the tender Wounds of bleeding Hearts:
For his fair Garment pouder'd was all o're
With flaming Arrows whose sharp points still bore
Themselves against fresh bleeding Hearts; the Wind
At every puff seem'd cruel, and unkind,
For those by clashing seem'd to wound indeed,
And these afresh to be inflam'd and bleed.
These were the Ensigns of the Sacred'st Love,
At whose Command this Messenger did move.
But in his right Hand, all of shining Gold
Thick set with Rubies, he a Cup did hold;
Immortal Amaranthus's made up
Into a Purple Garland, Crown'd the Cup.
But in the Mazure's golden Concave lay,
Of Wine of Love divine a blushing Sea;
A deep drought of that Heav'nly Nectar which
Is broach'd for those who gain the highest pitch.
The Purple streams which fruitful Tmolus yields,
Th' exuberant Vines which crown the Massic Fields,
298
The scarlet Liquor that in Creet doth flow;
Spains sprightly Nectar, Greece's pleasant wine,
Should they compared be to this divine
Ambrosiac Liquor, all of them would prove
But Gall, and Wormwood to this Wine of LOVE.
Approaching those who feasting were, on the
Choyce Fruits excerp'd from Life's thrice sacred Tree,
The Angel on the Pilgrim pitch'd his Eye,
In which was plac'd a Throne of swavity,
And reaching to him that Wine-filled Boul,
From's fluent Tongue these melting words did roul.
Take here (said he) a Cup of sacred VVine,
Squeez'd from the Grapes which grew on Jesu's Vine,
That Vine which spreads her spacious Branches even
O're all the fair walls of the Court of Heav'n.
This is the new Wine which our Hearts doth chear,
Which bringeth gladnesse, and expelleth fear,
This is Love's sacred Wine in it doth move
The very Spirit of the King of Love,
Which is not flitting but for ever fixed,
For he himself is with this Liquor mixed.
Our royal King himself, commanded me
For to present this Present unto thee.
Choyce Fruits excerp'd from Life's thrice sacred Tree,
The Angel on the Pilgrim pitch'd his Eye,
In which was plac'd a Throne of swavity,
And reaching to him that Wine-filled Boul,
From's fluent Tongue these melting words did roul.
Take here (said he) a Cup of sacred VVine,
Squeez'd from the Grapes which grew on Jesu's Vine,
That Vine which spreads her spacious Branches even
O're all the fair walls of the Court of Heav'n.
This is the new Wine which our Hearts doth chear,
Which bringeth gladnesse, and expelleth fear,
This is Love's sacred Wine in it doth move
The very Spirit of the King of Love,
Which is not flitting but for ever fixed,
For he himself is with this Liquor mixed.
Our royal King himself, commanded me
For to present this Present unto thee.
This said: the Pilgrim three times bowed, and
The Goblet took out of the Angels Hand,
And putting to his Ruby Lips the Cup,
With ravishment he drunk the Liquor up.
Not all the Honey streams of Hybla may,
Such gusts of sweetnesse to a Tongue display,
As what the Pilgrim tasted in that Boul,
As the Heav'n-nectarized VVine did roul
Into the Breast; He never yet did meet
With any Wine so ravishingly sweet;
So that the pleasure did beguile his draught,
For e'r he was aware he deeply quafft:
The Boul was big, but had it bigger been
He would the bottom questionlesse have seen,
For here he knew he might drink in excesse,
And without sin drink unto drunkennesse,
For who can blame those holy Saints (this Odd
Expression pardon) who are drunk with God.
No sooner had the Pilgrim drunk of this;
The Goblet took out of the Angels Hand,
And putting to his Ruby Lips the Cup,
With ravishment he drunk the Liquor up.
Not all the Honey streams of Hybla may,
Such gusts of sweetnesse to a Tongue display,
As what the Pilgrim tasted in that Boul,
As the Heav'n-nectarized VVine did roul
Into the Breast; He never yet did meet
With any Wine so ravishingly sweet;
So that the pleasure did beguile his draught,
For e'r he was aware he deeply quafft:
The Boul was big, but had it bigger been
He would the bottom questionlesse have seen,
For here he knew he might drink in excesse,
And without sin drink unto drunkennesse,
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Expression pardon) who are drunk with God.
But Living Flames of everlasting Blisse
Surround his Heart, whose clipings without measure
Yield Raptures, and unutterable pleasure.
The Wine's quick Spirits move in every part,
And corner of his Head, his Breast, and Heart,
And piercing th'row each Limb, do cause them move
In sweet Tripudiations of Love.
Up starts he all inflamed (with that Flame
Which drove from David's breast Love stifling shame,
When he in an ecstatic Rapture danc'd
Before the Ark of God, as it advanc'd
Th'row all the Streets of fair Jerusalem)
Taking the Graces all, he danc'd with them,
The holy Dance of Love: Nor can exprest
Be, that sweet prickling Joy raigned in his Breast.
His sence of feeling feasted to the hight,
And (as the rest were) swallow'd in delight.
Unusual Gestures forced him to rear,
That he the better Love's excesse might bear;
For Nature's weak, and strives to Congregate
Those Spirits, which extream Joyes dissipate,
For Her own safety; lest by flying out
Too much, she should be quite left destitute.
Thus Flesh, and Blood, the Soul's Crosse alwayes is,
Depriving Her of Joys, of Sweets, of Blisse.
Not all the Joys and Pleasures the Dull VVorld
On the most sensual Mortals e'r has hurl'd;
Not all the Fleshes various pleasures, nor
Foul Cyprian delights themselves compare
May, with the smallest part of that delight,
And pleasue, which the Saints poor Souls excite.
Vain are the World's Joy momentany too,
Heav'n's everlasting, undefil'd, and true.
O what Tongue able is to tell the pleasure
The Pilgrim felt! Not all the Earthly Treasure
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Himself descended in a flaming flood,
Of Love, upon his Soul: Jesu's divine
And sacred Body, couched in the Wine
It self in pieces brake upon his Soul;
The sacred Spirit too, without controul
Descending, filled all his Soul about,
With Rayes of Light, and Love which nought could d'out.
Whole streams of Love upon his Soul was poured,
Festatic pleasures through the same were showred,
Seas of delight; unutterably sweet
Love-Extasies, his Soul together greet,
So that he was quite overcome of Love,
And did not know which way himself to move:
Intoxicated, and o'returned quite
He was, with Love's exuberant delight:
The burning Tincture of the Heart of God,
Rol'd o're his Soul a most delightful Flood,
Which him transported into Rapts divine,
So that he seem'd like one made drunk with Wine.
In this strong heat of his exultancy,
He on the green grasse swift about did flye,
With all those Graces, who compos'd a Ring,
And dancing round, this Hymn with joy they sing.
| Mundorum Explicatio | |