The works of Sir William Mure of Rowallan :: :: University of Virginia Library

Ȝow Heliconian witts, with arte who viewe
The pain-borne brood of heaven-enspired spreits;
ȝowr presence, humbly, (loe), my muse invites,
To taist of her fore-rypened fruits a few.
Though meane and small desert for such be dew,
Her strenthles pinneouns and vnhardned plume,
As ȝit in blood, no hyer dar presume,
Till ryper ȝeirs her infancy subdue.
Accept what she doth painfully impairt
With toyle and travell to begyle the time;
And let, in her minority and prime,
Her tender age excuse her slender airt;
Not darring things of importance to write,
With humble ȝeale, (loe), she presents her mite.

S. W. M.

DIDO AND AENEAS.

THE FIRST BOOK.

Ising Aeneas fortunes, whil on fyr
Of dying Troy he takes his last farewell;
Queen Didoe's love, and cruell Junoe's ire
With equall fervor which he both doth feell.
Path'd wayes I trace, as Theseus in his neid,
Conducted by a loyall virgin's threid.

But pardon! Maro, if myn infant muse
(To twyse two lustres scarce of ȝeirs attained),
Such task to treat (vnwisely bold), doth choose,
As thy sweit voyce hath earst divinly strained.
And in grave numbers of bewitching verse
Ravisht with wonder all the vniverse.

Rap't with delight of thy mellifluous phrase,
Thy divine discant, and harmonious layes,
Whose sugg'red accords, (which thy worth do blaze),
The hearers' senses, at thair ears betrayes.
O then I stowp as one in airt too shallow
Thy never matched monarch muse to follow.

But, ravisht with a vehement desyre,
Those paths to trace which ȝeilds ane endles name,
By the, to climb Parnassus I aspyre,
And by thy feathers to impen my fame:
Nothing asham'd thir colours to display,
Vnder thy conduct as my first assay.

Sacred Apollo! Lend thy Cynthia light,
Which by thy gloriows rayes reflexe doth shyne,
That I, partaking of thy purest spright,
May grave (anew) on tyme's immortall shryne,
In homely stile, those sweit deliciows ayrs
In which thy Muse admirable appears.

And ȝe Pierian maids! ȝe sacred nyne!
Which haunt Parnassus and the Pegas spring,
Infuse ȝour furie in my weak ingyne,
That (mask'd with Maro) sweetly I may sing,
And warble foorth this Hero's changing state,
Eliza's love, and last, her tragick fate.

Now bloody warre, (the mistres of debait,
Attendit still with discorde, death, dispair;
The child of wrath, nurst by despightfull hait,
With visage pale, sterne lookes, and snaiky hair),
By Groecian armes, old Troy had beatne downe,
And rais'd the ten-ȝeirs siege from Priam's towne.

Whose brasen teeth her walls did shake asunder,
And staitly turrets levell'd with the ground;
Insulting Greeks, with fire and sword, did thunder,
And both alike the sone and syre confound,
The maid and matron, striving to compence
Fair Helen's rapt, and Paris' prowd offence.

When Venus' sone, got by Anchises great,
The noble prince Æneas re-units
His scattered forces, dissipate of laite
By Graecian furie on Troy's bloody streets,
And sweetly chearing their dejected hearts,
By sugg'red words he stryves to ease their smarts.

“Lo! (champions bold,” quoth he), “quha fyr and sword,
And thowsand dangers have with me eschewed,
Courage and comfort let my words afford
To ȝow, though now by sad mischaunce subdued.
Blind Fortune favoures oft th'ignoble parte,
But he is free keeps ane vnconquered heart.

“Banish base sorrow, raise ȝowr drowping heids.
Vertue oppressed brighter still doth blaze.
Let wonted valour, by ȝowr worthy deids,
Reconquere credit, and the world amaze;
That ritch with spoiles and praise, ȝowr prowes hie
May be renoun'd with fame and victorie.

“Learne, (noble warriours!) Fortunes storme to beir;
And let ȝowr valour be by vertue back't.
The golden sunne-shyn of her count'nance cleir
On vs againe may shyne, though Troy be sack't.
Palmes, whil prest downe, ar loathest to give place,
And Phaebus lowest showes her broadest face.

“Since heir owr countrey, by the foe possest,
And conquer'd kingdomes small content can ȝeild;
Since honour seldome is acquir'd by rest,
But wonne by awfull armes in open field:
Let vs a navie then prepair with speid
With wings displayed the seas to overspreid.

“In perill praise, in hazard honour lyes.
Hiest attempts ar worthiest of renowne.
And who do most death's bitter stroake despise,
Fortune doth such with glory soonest crowne.
Let vs resolve to suffer all assayes,
To purchase fame, or perish all with prayse.”

Thus said, their hopes half dead ar now revived;
Their troubles calm'd: his speaches so prevaill.
Their hearts of sorrow's heavie load relieved,
Off suddaine joy strange passiouns do assail;
All cry alowd: “Quhair ever thow dost leid,
We follow the, owr prince, owr guide, owr heid.”

Thair valiant chiftane speidily gives charge,
With sayles display'd, to turne their backs on Troy.
Now many a gailley, brigandine, and barge
Rid ov'r the roaring billowes; whil with joy
The Trojane fleet in armes to seas ar gone.
Great Neptune with the burthene greiv'd doth grone.

Their speedy cowrse amidst the maine they ply,
And ways vnknowen search out, twixt foame and flood.
Now scarce the soyle, with bleeding hearts, they spy,
Quhair Troy, (Rome's stately rival whilome), stood;
Whose ruines poore, which low in ashes lye,
Doth force a teare from every gaizing eye.

The pleasant plaines of Thracia then they coast,
Which doth their eyes of native land deprive,
Thence through the Ocean speedily they poast,
Till now in sight of Delos they arrive.
The Ile no sooner to their eyes appear'd,
Till thither Palinure their pilote steir'd.

Apollo there, in dark responses, told
Of things to come the ȝit-vnknowne event;
And did in dowbtsome oracles vnfold
Hid mysteries the curiows to content:
Where now arriv'd their prince setts foot on land,
His fortunes of the God to vnderstand.

“Behold!” (quoth he) “before thy sacred schrine,
Divine Apollo, the distrest estate
Of Troy's poor remnant, servants all of thine;
Brought lowe by Graecian furie, and by fate.
Show to quhat soyle owr cowrse sall be addrest,
Which after toyle in end, may ȝeild vs rest.”

“Renowned Prince! of heavinly issue sprung,”
The God replyed, “Jove doth for the provide!
Thy trophe's sall, (by after-ages sung),
In times immortall register abide.
Spread foorth thy sayles, to Italy repair;
Thow and thy race sall swey the scepter thair.”

Ravish'd with joy, with clamoures lowd they loose,
And smoothly through the silver waves do slide.
A gentle gale sweet Zephyrus bestowes,
Which streight their cowrse to Italy doth guide.
The azure face of heaven's broad looking-glasse
With cannowse wings they quickly overpasse.

But scarce the floods had ȝit depriv'd their eyes
Frome sight of shoare, and viewe of neirest land,
Quhen angrie Juno, frome the christall skyes,
Vpon ye seas the Trojane navie fand.
Her deadly hatred and deep-rooted ire
Inflams her minde, and sets her all on fire.

But say! my muse, what crime so hynows hath
Commoved the Goddes, who in furie fryes?
Showe thow the source of her vindictive wrath:
Why she this Prince so singulare envyes,
Him tosses to and fro, deprives of rest?
Are heavinly mindes with such despight possest?

The Goddes heiring that demolish'd Troy
Out of her ashes should a Phoenix raise,
A natioune fierce, who Carthage should destroy,
Her stately towres ov'rturne, and city raise;
A martiall people far and neir to reigne,
In warre invincible, so the Fates ordaine;

This towne above all others to extoll
Her native soyle at Samos Ile she leaves;
Throughout the streets her hurling chariots roll;
Her armes heir places, and great honors gives:
And heir she mindes, (if Fates do not withstand),
To found ane empire shall the world command.

His kinde she hates, which should the same supprise,
And Ganimedes rapt vpbraides her minde;
And how her beauty Paris did despise
The golden fruit to Venus who assign'd;
Which most her heart with malice doth incense,
No mends can expiat this hie offence.

Her forme disprais't ingenders such disdaine
As never female heart could ȝit forgive.
Beauty can not abide to beir a stayne,
And with a rivall doth abhorre to live.
Quhat can so loathsome be a woman told,
As say she lookes deformed, fowl, or old?

O cruell sexe! whose hate no time can change,
Nor furyowse minde with sugg'red words be meased.
As Hyrcane tigers, greedy of revenge,
Bellona[s] fury far easier is appeased.
For one man's caws no Trojane finds a shield.
Who may resist whil heavinly broode doth ȝeild?

But what strange furie thus transportes my pen,
Those creatures sweit of cruelty to taxe?
Who now-adayes do prove so kinde to men,
Apt for impression as the ȝeilding waxe.
Of this sweit sexe my muse doth pardon crave,
Which thus misledde with Juno's rage did rave.

The Trojane fleet now being vnder saile,
Whil smyling Nereus with cups is crown'd;
And mariners, glaid of the prosperows gaile,
Their chearful whisles meryly do sownd.
Enraged Juno, full of discontent,
Thus doth apairt by words her passion vent:

“Thus must I ȝeild? thus my designes forgoe?
And sall the Trojanes save arive on shoare
Maugre my will? Have Fat's ordain'd it so?
Of such a conquest justly [lose the] gloir?
By Pallas earst for Ajax caws alone
The Graecian fleet was sunk and overthro'ne.

“Devoiring flames downe from the clouds she threw,
Thunder and fireflaught, to avenge her ire.
Waves threat the skies, a fearfull tempest blew,
The rageing seas against the Greeks conspire.
Himself, with fire transfixt, against a rock
She dasht with whirlwind, quhair his corps did smoake.

“But I, first Goddes, first by birth and place,
Jove's spowse, and sister, heaven's arch-empresse great,
With one poore nation never ȝit at peace!
What do availl my dignity, my state?
Who Juno's godhead, thus contemn'd, sall feare?
Or who sall offrings on my altar reare?”

With heart inflam'd, from clouds with furie fleeing,
The Goddes at Æolia doth arive;
A land where tempests dwell, stormes have their being;
In caves inclos'd, where murm'ring winds do strive.
But Æolus, their king, with mace in hand,
Theire rage restrains, and fury doth withstand.

At such impresonement they oft, repining,
Lowd bellowing all break out, with blust'ring noyse;
But he in chaines more stoutly them confining,
Tempers their ire, and calmes their roaring voyce;
For if they were vnbridled and vnbound,
Heavens, earth, and seas they should anone confound.

The thunder great this fearing, then inclosed
In caverns dark, fast bound with brazen bands:
With hills supprest them, and a prince imposed
To let or loose their rains, as he commands;
To whom these speeches Juno fierce directed,
With gesture sad, and ey's on ground dejected:

“O Æolus! at whose imperiows word
The storms arise, and swelling seas give place;
My mortall foes, new scaip't the Graecian sword,
The Trojans crosse the seas to my disgrace.
Let louse the winds, thy rav'nows postes imploy,
Disperse their navie, and themselves destroy!

“Of all my nymphs, in beauty most excelling,
Fair Diopeia sall be thy rewarde;
Who, all her lyf in thy subjection dwelling,
The as her lord and husband sall regarde;
With the who many happy dayes sall have,
And mak the parent of a bairne-tyme brave.”

“Too many words, (great Goddes!),” he replyes,
“Are spent in vaine, thy servand to entraite.
My self, my scepter, and in me what lyes,
Boldly command to execute thy haite.
Jov's love by the I find, by the I reigne,
By thee the stormes I raise, and tempests straine.”

Butt more, him turning to the hallow hill,
With silver scepter open passage made;
The winds owt gushing heavens and earth do fill
With hiddeows noyse, none in the cave abaide:
They roar, they rush, and with a murmuring sownd,
The elements all threatne to confound.

To seas anone all furiows foorth they flew;
'Gainst East and West are Sowth and North opposed.
Waves climb the clouds, a deadly tempest blew;
Gray Proteus' flocks through foamie floods ar tossed,
Which present death to sailing Trojans threatne.
Men cry, and caibles crack by Boreas beatne.

The day grew dark, night shew her sable face,
Ane hoste of clouds did overcast the skies;
Ane mist obscure did light of day displace,
And load starre rest frome woefull sailers eyes.
With lightning flashes thund'ring heavens gave light;
Each where pale death vpbraids the Trojanes sight.

Æneas now, (sad prince), in minde dismayed,
With hands heav'd vp first having heavens implor'd:
“Thrise happy ȝe, my mates!” sore sighing say'd,
“In Troyes defence who died by Graecian sword.
O Diomedes, would to God that I,
Kill'd by thy martiall hand, at Troy did ly!

“Quhair noble Hector by Achilles spear,
And stowt Sarpedon both their breathes did ȝeild;
Whose live-lesse bodyes Simois' floods did bear
With bloody armes and many a woundit sheild.”
Thus whil apairt he speiks, a contrare blast
Doth force his saile against the trembling mast.

Now helme-les, oar-les now, the shippe doth saill;
Her ribbes do roare, her tacklings all are torne;
The tumbling billowes fast her syddes assaill,
She sinking sippes the seas, by weight downe borne.
The fleet disperst, some to the heavins are throwne,
To some the bottomes of the seas are showne.

Thus tos't with stormes, the poore remaine of Troy
Each to some speciall office him betaks:
Some sailes pull in, others the oares imploy,
Some the maine bouling hale, some tacklings slacks;
Some hold the helme, some caibles cut in twaine,
Some at the pumpe powr seas in seas againe.

But all in vaine they strive 'gainst angrie heavin;
In shallow shelves some vnawares ar cast;
Some 'gainst a rock are violently drivin;
And some in Syrtes sinking sands are fast;
Some, (being robb't of ruther, mast and oares),
With gaiping mowth the whirling poole devores.

The remnant past all hope, now neir ov'rthrowne,
Their leiking seames drink in the floods so fast,
Whil Neptune wond'ring by what charge vnknowne
The swelling seas their limits have ov'rpast;
By what strange pow'r they have ov'rflow'd the plains,
And who, (by his command), hath loos'd the raines.

At which emov'd, his hoarie head he reares
Above the waters, toss'd by Juno's wraith.
The Trojane fleet soone to his eyes appeares,
Some drown'd, some dying, some scarce drawing breath;
Whome pittying, in the twinkling of ane eye
The storme he stills, and calm's the rageing sea.

Even as a rude concurse of people swairmes,
A heidles multitude misledde by rage,
Do fight confus'd; furie doth furnish armes;
No meanes can their ignoble ire asswage.
But if some man of eminence appeare,
They quit their strife, and to his words give eare.

Even so, no sooner Neptune show[s] his face,
Till bello'ing Boreas calmes his roaring voyce.
The striving stream's are suddenly at peace,
And rageing tempests still their blust'ring noyse.
With trumpets hoarse the Trytons sownd retrait.
Waves war no more against the scattered fleet.

Cymothoe applies her helping hands,
With many a sea-nymph Neptun's cowrt frequenting;
Who free the shipp's frome shoalds and sinking sands,
To Trojan's pittyfull themselves presenting.
The storme allay'd, they saiff away do slide.
On smooth-fac'd seas the God by coatch doth ride.

Now weary sailers with desired sight
Discerne afarre the long-long wissed land;
And thither plying, on the coasts do light
Of Africk, where Queen Dido bears command.
Frome Italy, a contrare cowrse, which driven,
Of all the sailes none find the porte but seven.

Soone as the rosie-fingered morning fair
Left Tython's bed, and glaid good-morrow gave
To Phaebus, blushing red, with golden hair,
Ariseing from the Orientall wave:
Wher Æneas early go's abroad,
And leaves the shipp's at anchore in the roade.

To see the soile he slumber sweit forsakes,
Longing to learne what people thair do stay;
Achates only he his convoy makes,
Swa journey taks where fortune guides the way,
By paths vnknow'n, perplexed much in minde,
They travell long, but people none can finde.

Till Venus last, disguised in shape, appears,
Most like a Spartan maid in armes and weed;
The gesture of Harpalice she bears,
To whom the light-foote horse gives place in speed.
Owt runnes swift running Heber's rav'nows streames;
With bowe on shoulder she ane huntres seames.

The heavenly treasure of her golden hair
Was toss'd by sweet-breath'd Zephyr heir and thair;
Her rayment short, her lovely knees wer bair,
With which no snowe in whitnes might compair.
Her eyes shin'd favour, courtessie, and grace,
No mortall ever saw more sweet a face.

“Stay, stowtly ȝowthes!” (she sayes), “who heir resorte,
And showe me if by chance ȝe have espied
Heir any of my sister nymphs at sporte,
With bowe in hand, and quaver by their syd,
The footsteps of a foamie boare who trace,
And hallo'ing lowd, fast follow on the chace.”

“None such we saw,” (quoth they), “O nymph divine!
Or sall we rather the a Goddes call?
Such heavenly beautys on thy face do shine,
Thy gloriows rayes owr mortall eyes appal;
But O! thrice happy Goddes, nymph or maid,
Quhat e're thow art, we humbly crave thine aid.

“Teach vs what soile is this, what countrey strange,
What fields so fair heir to owr sight are showen,
Vnder what climat of the heaven we range,
Where neither man nor place to vs are knowne.
We crave” (sweit lady), “if a stile so lowe
Beseeme thy state, this let thy servants knowe.”

“To me such honors,” she replies, “forbeare;
For this the fashion is for virgins heir
A bowe and quaver by their thighs to beare,
And rayment short above their knee to weir.
Of fertile Africk heir the soile ȝe see,
And those the walls of famows Carthage be.

“The scepter Dido swayes, heir fled of late
For horror of Pigmalion's cruell crime,
Against her mate in privy perpetrate,
Which sad discowrse requirs a longer time.
But things of greatest moment to discover,
All circumstance I breefly sall runne over.

“Sicheus was her lord and loyall mate,
With many gifts of minde and body graced,
Who her espous'd into her virgin state,
A spotless maid, ȝoung, beautyfull, and chaste.
Her bloody brother over Tyrus raigned:
No fiercer monster on the earth remained.

“He, blind with greid, to gaine Sicheus gold
Him vnawars before the altars slew,
And forg't inventiounes to his sister told,
Cloaking his cruelty with airts anew.
But murther, though it ly a space conceal'd,
By meanes vnlook't for, ay at last's reveal'd.

“Himself, vnburyed ȝit, Sicheus shew,
Before this wofull lady's sleeping eyes,
With visage wan, pale looks, and deidly hew,
Whom, fearfull lyk, she trembling fast espyes,
With gapeing wound, from whence a crimson flood
Ran gushing downe his breast, begor'd with blood.

“‘Flie! flie! my dearest half,’ quoth he, `from hence
Expect no better at thy brother's hands,
Flie him who kill'd thy husband but offence,
And cruelly dissolv'd owr nuptiall bands;
Whose cursed weapon Hymen's solemne knote
Disjoin'd, which joined was so long by lote.

“She, (wofull soule), appalled with the sight,
Her fainting hands three times stretcht owt in vaine
The shadow to embrace; but sadly sight
When nought but air her folded armes containe.
Three times againe, thus in her sleep misse-led
Three times his ghost her kinde embraces fled.

“Awak't, the charge she speedily obeyes;
Prepares for flight, conveining such as hate
This monster, who with fear the scepter swayes,
And tyrannizing reignes with terrour greate.
Whom spoiling, hence they fled with wealth vntold;
Their shipps they ballast with the traitouoris gold.

“Heir they arived, where now the walls arise
Of stately Carthage, reaching to the skies.
The soile she bought, along the coast which lies,
Within the reach and compasse of ȝowr eyes:
First Byrsa call'd, as much in length and breid
As she could with an oxen hide ov'rspreid.

“But whence be ȝe, (my freinds), who seame so sad,
Whose ruethfull looks ȝowr inward sorrows showe?
Frome what far coast have ȝe ȝowr journey had?
Or whither further purpose ȝe to go?”
To which, with wounded heart and watrie eyes,
Sore sighing, thus the sea-toss'd prince replies:

“Ah lady! if I should at length relate
And of owr bitter sorrows showe the source;
Owr adverse fortune and estrang't estate
Requires a longsome dolorows discowrse:
Day should departe and Phoebus bright descend,
Long ere owr wofull tragedy should end.

“Frome Troy we come, Troy was owr haples soile,
(If ever Troy into thine ears fand place),
By wind and wave heir toss'd we are with toile,
Of heavenly issue and immortall race.
Frome Jove I sprang; brought lowe, before thine eyes
Æneas stands, whose fame surmounts the skyes.

“To Italy Apollo did exhorte
My cowrse: I follow'd where the Fates did guide;
With twentie sailes, (alas!) I left the porte,
Of which scarce seven saiff frome the stormes abide.
Myself in neid heir strayes, to all vnknowne,
Far, far from Europ, and frome Asia throwne.”

But such regrates vnable more to hear:
“Brave Trojane, be encourag'd,” Venus sayes;
“Raise vp thine heart, such sad complaints forbear,
Heavens guide thy footsteps and direct thy wayes.
Hold on to Carthage, where Quein Dido reignes;
Thy shipps ar save; thy mates alive remaines.

“Even as those swanns, by six and six which flye,
Doung by ane eagle in the skies of late,
For joy of perill past all mounting hye,
With wanton wings the ȝielding air they beat:
Even so thy shipps, long toss'd on seas, in end
With mirth and noyse all to the porte intend.”

Thus having said, she turn'd away her face,
Which made a sunne-shine in the shady place,
With rosie cheeks and cheirfull smiling face,
Such as Adonis earst she did embrace,
Her sweet ambrosiall breath and nect'red hair,
With musk and amber did perfume the air.

He ravish't both with wonder and delight,
“Ah! mother, stay thy cowrse;” sore sighing sayes,
“Why, masked thus, dost thow delude my sight?
Pitty thy childe, heir comfortles who stayes.”
Ne're word she spak, but as they walk't in dowbt,
She with a cloud encompast them abowt.

The subtle air, (a wondrows thing to showe),
In solide substance did the self congeale,
With wonder rapt, environing the two,
Themselves with mists enfolded thus to feel,
To whome alone the cloud transparent bright,
With thick'ned damps debarr'd all others sight.

They, subject now vnto no mortall eyes,
Hold foreward, where the Goddes them commands.
She to her soile, by skies, to Paphos flyes,
Wher consecrate to her a temple stands,
Whose altars, which in odowrs sweet excell,
With cassia, myrrhe, and cynamome do smell.

They meanewhile to a mountaines toppe intending,
From which the towne lies subject to their sight;
The stately work with walls to skies ascending,
The pompows ports with gold all glist'ring bright,
The towres, on Porphyr pillars which arise,
And mabre streets feed with delight their eyes.

The workmen earnestly do their hands applie;
Some dig the earth and search a solide ground;
Some found below, some build amidst the skie;
With noyse of hammers hollow heavens resownd.
Some stones do roll; some vnder burthens grone;
Some grave in brasse; some kyth their craft in stone.

Lyk as when Phoebus, father of the ȝeir,
With warme reflexe the frosted flowrs revives,
When natur's alchimists from rest reteir,
And to the sluggarde life and courage gives.
Whil some at home, some in the fields abroade,
Their tender thighs with waxe & hony loade;

Assail'd by stormes, some litle stones do beir,
And ballast thus do contrepoyze the winde;
Some waxen pallaces with paine do reir;
Some search a field the fragrant flowrs to finde;
Some, bussied in the hyve, great murmure mak,
Whil others of the brood the charge do tak.

All wisely for the winter do provide,
And empty combs with liquours sweet do fill;
Parte at the ports, as sentinells abide,
Vnloade their mat's and drowsie dron's do kill;
The work doth prosper, Nectar-plenish't cels
With thyme and cammomile most sweetly smels.

Even so the Tyrians, some a stately stage
On arches rais'd for comedyes ereck;
For judgement some a place prepare more sage,
Establish lawes, and magistrats eleck.
Each with a sev'rall work employ'd tak paine:
None sluethfull in the citty do remaine.

“Happy! O happy ȝe!” Æneas sayes,
“Whose fortun's floorish, and whose walls arise.”
No longer he vpon the mountaine stayes,
But, ent'ring at the porche, seene by no eyes,
Bereft with wonder he abroad doth range,
Apparell'd with this airy rayment strange.

A shaddy groave amidst this citty grew,
Of amrows myrtles and immortall bayes,
Which, heavenly sweet, deliciows odowrs threw,
Whil Zephyr breath'd among the palme-trie sprayes,
Whose topps, entwyn'd, a pleasant arbor made,
Which ȝeelded a delightsome cooling shade.

Amidst this groave, to Juno sacred, stood
A church with all choyse rarities enriched,
Which, of no humane industry denude,
All eyes with admiratioune bewitched,
Who viewe what arte hath in this work devis'd,
With curiows pencill, cunningly compris'd.

Heir she to nature not inferiowr much,
In shapes admir'd her excellence hath showne,
The live-les pictures seeme to see, move, touch,
With wondrows colours by the painter drawne:
The statues stand, wrought with exceeding coste,
By cunning craftsmen carved and embost.

Æneas wond'ring at this temple's glory,
And, with those sights, his sorrowing eyes delighting,
Neir by, abr[i]g'd, he viewes Troyes tragick story,
Drawen with such life as seem'd he saw them fighting:
Great Ilion by triumphing Greeks suppris'd,
Their bloody rage who prowdly exercys'd.

Before the towne did stand the woodden horse;
Whilas the ramme the walls is vndermining.
The Trojans val'rowsly resist their force,
In plumed caskes and glitt'ring armour shining.
Now frome the ports the Greeks they seeme to chase,
And now retreating, to the foe give place.

Heir sent to death by Diomedes' hand,
The breathles body of prowd Rhesus lyes.
Heir Troylus, vnable to withstand
Achilles' stroak's, by gloriows conquest dyes.
Heir Priame doth his strenthles hands uphold,
Sueing to ransome Hector's corps with gold.

There, 'mongst his foes, himself anone he viewes,
Acting his parte vpon this bloody stage,
In Graecian blood his blaid who oft embrues,
Arm'd with trew valowr, not misseledde with rage.
There Memnon, there the souldiers of Aurore,
Distill their dearest blood to conquere glore.

But see! see how Penthesilea leads
Her Amazonian trowpes to Troye's supplie!
To all her valour admiration breids,
But death and horrour to the enemy.
All other women with their tongues mak warre,
She, by her hands, more famows is be farre.

But in this age such Amazons ar rare,
Now strange Hermaphrodites supplie their place,
Whose cloths, whose cariage, curlings, cutted haire,
Complexiounes, coloures, ar their cheifest grace:
Whose greatest study's foundlings to abuse;
The mystery of painting how to vse.

Viewing at last those vnexpected sights:
“Ah, deir Achates!” sighing sore, he said:
“In owr mishapps what nation not delights?
What place doth not owr infamies vpbraid?
Betwix the fyrie and the frozen ȝone
Our sad misfortunes are vnknowne to none.”

But as no joy's so great as lasteth ay,
So no mis-hap's so hard, but once may end.
Dark night o'rpast, succeedes the pleasant day,
Heavens, after sorrowes, joyes and solace send.
So now, the lustre of Eliza's eyes
Cheirs vp his spreits & calmes his miseryes.

Her presence soone gives respett to his teares;
Her milde aspect him with assurance armes;
Her beautyes peace proclaime vnto his feares;
Her gratiows countenance his anguish charmes.
For, loe, as Cynthia 'mongst the stars doth shyne,
She comes attended with a stately tryne.

Fair Iris in her choisest colowrs clad,
Arayed in robes of pure blew-golden-green,
Should in this cowrt have look't but pale and sad
Amids the pompows throng which guarde the Queen,
Who might have put a period to the strife
'Twix Juno, Pallas, and lame Vulcan's wife.

More lovely creature never mortall ey,
More ritch in beautyes, ever ȝit did viewe,
Whose lips of corall, cheeks of yvorie,
Where lillyes sweet & budding roses grew,
The smothest pearle, and ritchest rubies stain'd,
Still kissing and still blushing which remain'd.

Her fore-head full of bashfullnes and state,
Where Venus' babe did bend his Heben bowe,
Of majesty and mildenes seam't the seate,
Whose native white made pale the purest snowe.
Two stars are fixt into this beautyes spheare,
Smile-frowning, stormie-calm, and cloudie-cleare.

Each glance alone of those celestiall lights
Dairt foorth a living death, or deadly wound,
And by allurements strange in snare the sights,
And do beholders' senses quite confound,
Whose silent rhetorick far more perswade
Then all the airts enchaunting Circe hade.

Each beawty, to attract the curiows eye,
Hath something rare, peculiar, and alone,
Which most the face with forme doth beautyfie,
And leaves impression in a heart of stone.
Some, sweetly smileing, kindle Cupid's fire,
And, blushing, some adde fewell to desire.

Some with the cherryes of sweet lips ensnare;
Some with the dimples of a vermile cheek;
By wanton looks some leave a lasting care,
And others most do move by seeming meek.
But heir, all beautyes in this object meit:
O miracle of nature thus compleit!

Even as Diana, by Eurota's banks,
Or Cynthus' tops, with many a nymph attendit,
With deep-mowth'd hounds the fleeing deir disranks;
Some fall, by flight some have their lyves defendit.
The Goddes egerly the chace doth follow,
Cheiring her hounds with a harmoniows hallow.

The wanton wod-nymphs fast abowt her throng,
Both at her sport and heavenly shape amazed.
She joyfully them traines the plains along,
Still more admiring, more on her they gazed.
For loe! she shynes amids this crew more bright
Then clear Aurora, parting frome the night.

So ent'red Dido: such her princely port,
A sweit, majestick, and heart-moving creature,
With pompows splendour, far above report,
But airt adorn't, with beautyes choysest feature,
Whose gracefull gesture, whose enchanting eyes,
Æneas' sorrows seam't at once to ease.

Magnifickly thus mounting to her throne,
Weiring a costly coronet of gold,
The sword of justice to her subjects showne,
The scepter her imperiall hand doth hold;
Where, guarded with a groave of awfull armes,
She sitts secure frome spightfull traitors' harmes.

There, like that nymph who fled from earth to heaven,
So much by all for equity renown'd,
Of justice she doth hold the ballance eaven,
And solidly doth lawes and statutes found,
Wherby good subjects easily are rain'd,
The viciows sort by fear and force restrain'd.

The Queen scarce plac't into her yvorie throne,
Whil suddenly a companie arives
Of souldiers, as it seam't to all vnknowne,
Which preassing, as perplex't, for presence strives:
Sergestus, Antheus and Cloanthus strong,
Were leaders of this vnexspected throng.

Three Trojane captanes with their trowpes attendit,
New scaipt the furie of the boyst'rows king,
Heir last on shoare, whil otherwise intendit;
Heaven's angry Empresse hindred their designe,
Their ships assailing on the wattrie plaine,
Till Neptune calm'd the swelling seas againe.

Their prince, his people heir at cowrt espying,
In Thetis' bosome whom entomb't he trowed,
Amaz'd he stood, with deep attention trying
If visions false his eyes did overcloud,
If apparitions or chymerœes vaine
Appear'd, illudeing his distempered braine.

But finding heir his followers in effect,
Sick with a surffeit of excessive joy,
He long'd himself vnmasked to detect,
That mutuallie they comfort might enjoy;
But, seasouning this passion with feare,
Their sute to Dido first resolves to heare.

Meanwhile Ilioneus doth humbly kneel,
And thus the Queen with reverence doth greet:
“Great Princes! we, (poore strangers), do appeale
To thy protection, prostrate at thy feet,
Embold'ned by thy virtewes to draw neare,
And in thy sacred presence to appeare.

“We, wofull Trojanes, wand'ring in exile,
Long toss't abroad vpon the troublows seas,
Do humbly crave to rest with the a while;
Let not owr sute thy patience displease;
But, (gratiows Princes!), pitty owr distres,
And over vs thy people's pride repres.

“To raise thy cittyes and returne with spoile,
To no such end we did vs heir addresse;
We, being objects of disgrace and toile,
No such prowd thoughts owr conquer'd mindes possesse.
Whil first we did on foamie seas ascend,
To Italy we did owr cowrse intend.

“Scarce did the floods owr sight from shoar divorce,
Whil mad with furie, and inflam'd with rage,
Lowd bellowing Boreas prowdly offers force,
And maid owr navie of his pride the stage.
The elements, all intermixt in one,
Owr ships were soone disperst and overthrowne.

“A Prince we had, (O had!), word full of grieff!
By name Æneas, great in armes and fame,
Whom, if the heavens preserve for owr relieff,
Feir no; thy fortoune thow shall never blame,
That we by the ar favor'd for his caws.”
Thus, with a sigh, the Trojane maide a pause.

Her waxen heart, touch't with a trew remorse,
And sympathie of their distrest estate,
Did her compassion in such sort enforce,
As, sweetly smileing, from her regall seat:
“Cheer vp ȝor mindes, (brave Trojanes),” she replyed;
“Exile base sorrow, be no more dismayed.

“What people are so barren of engine,
As have not heard of great Æneas' name?
Troyes ancient splendour? of her gloryes shine?
With longsome warre how Mars did her inflame?
To vs ȝour vertewes admiration breeds,
Amazed much by ȝowr heroick deeds.

“If hence ȝe minde, free pasport I will give,
And, with a lib'rall hande, ȝowr wants supplie.
Or, if my kingdome can ȝowr woes relieve,
Welcome! thrise welcome, heir to stay with me!
If Trojanes can submit them to my throne,
Trojane and Tyrian sall to me be one.

“And O! I wish ȝowr brave, illustruows prince,
With whose renowne the earth's seaven climats rings,
Were heir; if heavens have not him ravish't hence,
But do reserve for some vnknowne designes,
Happy, how happy should Queen Dido bee,
To succour him in his extremitie.”

Scarce had she endit till the airie cloud,
Which him encompas't, vanisht owt of sight,
And he, deliv'red of his sable shroud,
With sudden wonder, shyn'd into the light,
More lyke a God then any earthly creature,
So perfect he appear'd in every feature.

With stately shape, a smileing awfull eye,
A piercing look, a sweet majestick face;
The golden treasure of his locks which lye
Adowne his shoulders with celestiall grace,
In heavenly hew excell'd that far sought fleece,
Gain'd with such hazarde by the ȝowth of Greece.

Now see how Dido narrowely doth eye him,
Into her heart great things of him divining;
With admiration all the cowrt espye him,
Vpon his royall brow true vertue shining.
No dame so chaste but, spite of all defences,
Must ȝeeld to love, him viewing with right senses.

“Behold,” (quoth he), “great Princes, in thy sight,
The man for whome thow kindly dost enquire;
Thy humblest servant, if a sea-tost wight,
Infolded in misfortune's sad attire,
Can be thought worthy the, (dear Queen), to serve,
Who dost so infin'tly of vs deserve.

“Thow onely with owr miseryes art moved;
By the alone we comfort do enjoy;
Thow only kinde and pittyfull hast proved
To vs, the poore distrest remaine of Troy.
We only by thy gratiows favour breath,
Near ent'red at the frozen gates of death.

“Thow, feelingly enflam't with ȝealows fire,
Our indigence dost vndeserv'dly aid,
The wofull objects of proud Æol's ire,
Whom heavens each where, by sea, by land, invaide;
The scorne of time, the mirrour of mishap,
Of deepest grieff the most expressive map.

“Can e're thy bountyes be by vs repayed?
All-vertuouse princes! Africk's gloriows starre!
We straying Pelerins will ne'r assay't,
Thy great deserts exceed owr pow'r so farre.
Jove, dowbtles, Dido duely sall rewarde,
If Jove doth rueth or equity regarde.

“Whill night's clear torches in true measure daunce
To heavenly accords of harmoniows spheares,
Whil Phoebus' steeds abowt the Poles do praunce,
Earth's pond'rows masse whill giant Atlas beares;
Thy fame, praise, glory, and thy partes divine,
Shall last, enrol'd on times immortall shrine.

“And, whill the heavens dissolve owr bodyes frame,
Thy kindnes no oblivion shall blot owt.”
Thus having said, burnt with affection's flame,
His subjects he embraces all abowt.
Hands join'd in hands, joy hath their hearts transfixed,
Both smiles and teares at once ar intermixed.

“Great Cytherea's sone!” the Queen replied,
Ravish't with wonder of this object strange;
“What fortune heir thy wand'ring steps doth guide?
How coms't thir costs thow solitare dost range?
Art thow that Prince, by progeny divine,
Whom great Anchises gote on beautyes Queen?

“My father Belus, (well I do record),
Whil wasteing Cyprus with victoriows hand,
To Teucer's aide, who by the dint of sword
Most violently was expell'd the land;
Their first thy fame did sound into mine eare;
Their Troyes distres and ruine I did heare.

“Like bitter fortunes als myself have proved;
But, greiff digested, sweet content redowbles.
Afflicted wights to pitty I am moved,
Not inexpert in woe and saddest troubles.
Rest heir, Æneas, in thir partes a space,
For bloody broiles enjoying blessed peace.”

Butt more, descending frome imperiall seate,
Her ghuests she guides into a pompows hall,
Then holy-dayes proclaim'd with triumph great,
In honour of th' ensewing festivall:
A Hecatombe is offered, beasts are slaine
To Neptune, ruler of the glassie plaine.

The regall palace, royally prepar'd,
With hangings ritch is sumptuously decor'd;
In midst the tables, on ritch pillars rear'd,
With silver plate are plentifully stor'd.
On which, laboriowsly engraven in gold,
The Princes' royall pedegrie's enrol'd.

Æneas now discharg't of heavy care,
Preparing to refresh his fainting sprights,
Ascanius' absence only doth empare
His perfect joyes, enless'ning his delights.
Such was the tender, fatherly respect
Whereby his child he dearly doth affect.

“Achates, haist,” (quoth he), “at length relate
To that sweet Boy, who in the ships doth stay,
The period of owr paines, owr present state,
How calme a night hath still'd owr stormie day.
Be thow a guide vnto his footsteps weake,
That of owr pleasures heir he may partake.

“And those few tokens, which alone do laste
Of all the treasures of demolish't Troy,
Bring with that hopefull childe to vs in haste;
The costly jewells Helen did enjoy,
Her ritch embroid'red robes, the scepter rare,
And crowne, which fair Ilionea bare.

“With these the Queen I purpose to present,
Small pledges of these duetyes to her due.
Whill smoothest words to no effect are spent,
Gifts, (strange perswadeing oratours), subdue,
And force the firmest mindes, do still prevaill,
Whil complements and kindest speaches faill.”

But whill Achates for Ascanius hyes
With winged pace: Loe! frome the cristall skies,
The Cyprian Goddes suddenly espyes
Th'event of all; who doth anone devise
That Cupid shall assume the shape and face
Of sweet Ascanius, and supplie his place,

And so the Queen with furie strange enspire,
Into her bosome breathing love's infection,
And kindle in her breast a boyling fire,
A quenchles flame of violent affection,
Whose deadly poyson, once infused deep,
May peice and peice through all her arteirs creep.

And whill he doth present the ritch propyne
Of Trojan reliques, in Ascanius' shape,
He may, (vnwarre), the Princes vndermyne,
And craftily her liberty entrape;
So, being once enamor'd on her sone,
May free his danger her suspition.

“Cupid, my sone,” saith she, (for Cupid still's
Attending Venus), “thow my strenth, my stay,
Whose trophes great both heavens and earth do fill,
O'r gods, o'r men, who dost thy scepter swey,
Behold before thy sacred Deity,
Thy mother Venus comes entreating the.

“With what despight, (thow knowes), Jove's jealows wife
Thy brother, dear Æneas, hath persewed,
Whom, nixt to the, I tender as my life,
My joy, my cheifest care, and neir subdewed
On Neptun's aȝure bosome, to my smarte;
Thow of my woes hast oft made vp a parte.

“Him Carthage now containes; Loe! how the Queen,
With sugg'red speaches, much his stay importunes,
And royally her ghuest doth entertaine,
With kinde compassion on his former fortunes.
But what these gloriows guilded sho's portend,
It's hard to constre: O! I fear the end.

“In Junoes citty, since by Juno hated,
How can he draw secure one minute's breath?
Since no where saiff, but by her furie threated,
Heir, at her pleasure, she may plot his death.
No place more oportune, no time more fit,
Such inhumane a murther to commit.

“But hark! deir infant, Loe! I have devis'd
A policie all perill to prevent.
Queen Dido, by thy slights, must be suppris'd;
A secret flame must frome thy forge be sent
To boyle her breast, her minde to fancie move,
Æneas only object of her love.

“Now fit occasion favors owr designes.
The lovely boy Ascanius goes to cowrt.
Lay thow aside a space thy shafts, thy wings,
Put on his person, and his princely porte.
A child, thow mayst a childe in shape resemble,
More subtilly with Dido to dissemble.

“That whil embraced, cherish't, entertain'd,
The nectar of thy balmie lips she seiks,
And whil she clasps the in her armes enchain'd,
Redowbling kisses on thy rosiall cheeks,
Thow privily may in her veines enspire
A pleasing poyson, a deceiving fire.”

Cupid obeyes the Goddes' charming voice.
An humane shape him instantly investes.
Of sweet Ascanius' shadow he maks choise,
And of his wings himself anone devestes,
Layes downe his bow and arrowes, one by one,
So with Achates to the cowrt is gone.

But, least Ascanius should the guile disclose,
To Ida wods the Goddes him doth beare,
Where pleasant slumber, rest and sweet repose
Lock't vp his eyes; and Morpheus drawing neire
Seas'd on his senses, in the cooling shade
Which lillyes sweet and budding roses made.

So now, whil Dido doth her ghuests entreat,
With choisest cowrses and deliciows faire,
Loading the tables with all sortes of meat,
Which ȝielded are on earth or liquid aire,
An hundreth groomes, with diligence and skill,
Giving attendance on the strangers still.

And whill Iöpas sweetly doth expresse
With warbling voice, and yvorie instrument,
The motion, order, cowrse of great and lesse,
Fires fixt and straying, in the firmament;
How Phoebus eyther hemi-spheare enflames,
And how his thunders Jove, and lightnings frames.

How Mars and Venus Vulcane did ensnare;
How stars' aspects benigne or froward bee;
How Iris bends her bowe amids the aire;
How rolling spheares resound harmoniowsly:
Lo! suddenly amids this joyfull throng,
Ascanius, comming, interrupts the song.

For, as he ent'red, all with greedy eyes
Gaze on the beautyes of the lovely boy.
Resplendant rayes his visage beautifyes,
His chearfull countenance augments their joy.
Smiles grace his gesture, which in them doth move
Amazement, wonder, joy, delight, and love.

They mervell at Æneas ritch propyne.
They mervell at the boy the gifts doth bring.
They muse a mortall's face so bright doth shyne,
Mistaking him to be a God, a king,
A mighty monarch, whose imperiows hand
Bears over all the vniverse command.

But none, so much as Dido, him admires:
In this sweet object such delight she fand,
She, in his breast, (as fixed starrs), ensphears
Her sparkling lights, which still butt motion stand.
But, still the more, her starving eyes she feeds,
Desire encreasing still the greater breeds.

The silver beames abowt his locks of gold,
The heavenly lustre of his shining face,
Her more and more still in amazement hold.
Within her breast she finds no rest nor peace,
But, surffeitting on such vnusuall sights,
Although enflam't, she in the flame delights.

Thus, whill she feeds, she pynes herself away,
(An harmeles flie allured by the low);
Her self, vnwar, thus doth her self betray,
And feels the force of this small archer's bowe,
Whose eyes alone, sweet, cowrtes, voide of ire,
Dairt lightnings foorth, a world of love to fire.

But now the Syren, by enchantments false,
The senses charmes of his supposed syre,
Now sucks his lips, now hings abowt his halse,
With kinde embraceings kindling his desyre.
He tenderly his child doth intertaine,
Mistaking whome his folded armes containe.

His cowrse, anone, vnto the Queen he takes,
Whose marrowe boyles already in her bones.
She, for the cherries of his lips forsakes
All other daintyes, and in love suppones
A sweeter issue, nor experience bad,
In end expressed, in characters sad.

Within the prison of her yvorie armes,
The infant clasping closely, she confines;
And to her foe's assaultes herself disarmes,
Vnwar, her liberty who vndermines,
And ignorant she holdeth on her breast
So great a God, so dangerows a ghuest.

He, peice and peice, the dear remembrance kills
Of late Sicheus, who her love enjoyed,
And empty veines with living fire he fills,
Her former flames which quickly have destroyed;
Her heart, long disaccustom'd now to love,
Affections strange and passions new doth prove.

Now is the Queen ensnar'd with Cupid's airts,
By love led captive to a suddaine change.
She feels the poyson of his deadly dairts
To work in her by operation strange.
But none her trembling pulses neids to finde.
Her eyes bewray the sicknes of her minde.

O love! how many are thy subtle snares,
To conquer beauty and to climb her forte;
Vowes, protestations, prayers, sighs and teares,
And cowrting strange in many a sundry sorte,
Betray poore women. Nature beauty made
Both to be loved and proved, nought die and fade.

Now silent night spred foorth her sable wings,
And broad display'd her spangled cannopye.
In fire, air, sea and earth, all living things,
Which moving, flying, creeping, breathing be,
Did rest, in pleasant slumber buryed deep,
Save she whose wakeing thoughts impeacht her sleep.

Heir endeth the First Book.

THE SECOND BOOK.

The quein, sore sick of love, surcharg't with care,
In wounded veines a secret flame doth feed.
Æneas' vertue and his stemme preclare,
Still, in her ravisht minde, a place doth pleed.
Both voyce and eyes one onely object hold,
A masse of cares her restles thoughts enfold.

If slumber sweet vpon her senses sease,
Her troubled braines, with visions new acquainted,
Present her lover still before her eyes,
The object which by day they most frequented.
Awak't againe frome her vnquiet rest,
She finds her spreit with passions strange possest.

Her beating pulses and her panting heart
Showe the distemper of her troubled minde.
No practise, humane industry, nor airt,
For her infection a remeid can finde;
Whose spreading poyson wholly hath ov'rrunne
Her veines, ere scairce she knew her grieff begun.

With purpure blush, soone as the morne displayes
Heaven's cristall gates, (dayes golden beames recall'd),
“Deir sister Anna,” sighing sore, she sayes,
“What dreames, by night, my senses have appal'd!
What apparitions did vpraid my sight!
And broken sleeps, with sudden fears, affright!

“What ghuest so strange hath heir ariv'd of late?
How brave of gesture! and in armes as great!
Whose eyes, of humble majesty the seat,
With grave-sweit looks, imperiowsly entreat.
What broyles, what battles, what enconters bold,
Hath he ov'rpast with courage vncontrol'd!

“If most advis'dly I did not resolve,
Myself to none in nuptiall bands to joine,
Since death my first affection did dissolve,
And sacred Hymen's solemne knot disjoine;
To his assault, (if vnto any one),
I might be moved, (perhaps), to ȝeeld alone.

“To the, (dear Anne), to the I must reveale,
Since death frome me Sicheus did divorce,
Who prowd Pigmalion's cruelty did feele,
This man alone my fredome did enforce.
He only hath enflam't my dead desires;
I feel the footsteps of my former fires.

“I feel within the fornace of my breast
A secret flame, a close confined fire;
What hope is left to smother and supress't?
Which bred my sight, is fostered by desire;
O how I frye and freize, I faint and feare.
How great a loade, (alace), is love to beare!

“What passion strange, (poore Dido!) thus transports the?
Love bids the ȝeeld the in a stranger's will.
But honor tells how highly it imports the,
With headles haste thy pleasures to fulfill.
Since flying beauty most enflames desire,
And sweet deniall kindles Cupid's fire.

“Love bids the runne where sweet delight doth leade,
And prove those pleasures which to ȝowth belong;
But honor doth advise the to tak heade,
Thy spotles fame and princely partes to wrong.
Since vertue's field is easily laid waste,
And meates vnwholsomest most please the taste.

“Nay, rather earth devore me first alive,
And, Erebus' dark shad's enclos'd among,
Let thund'ring Jove me of my life deprive,
O sacred modesty, ere I the wrong!
Or ever prease the statutes to eschew,
Of shamefastnes which to my sexe is due.

“He, he, (alace), to whome I first was fast,
My soules affection hes frome hence transported;
O let it with his ghost for ever last,
Entomb't with him, where first my love resorted.”
This said, her eyes a cristall flood foorth powre,
And on her cheiks distill a pearlie showre.

“Sweet sister,” Anna then at lenth replied,
“Dear as my life, more then my self affected,
Still shall thy ȝowth to mourne alone be tied?
Are childrene deare, by the, no more respected?
Hatst thow so much those joyes which Venus brings?
And think'st thow soules departed care such things?

“Although, when sade melancholie of late
Seas'd on thy minde, all sutes thow didst reject;
No Lybian husband, not Hiarbas great,
Nor Africk captaine couldst thow then affect;
But canst thow now resist, and not approve
The sweet effects of such contenting love?

“Thow weyes not well what bounds thow dost possesse;
Heir the Getulianes and Numidians stowt,
Heir Syrtes sands, famowse in barrennesse,
Heir the Barceans compas the abowt;
What shall I speak of Tyrus' new debates,
Which now arise, and of thy brother's threats?

“By heaven's assent, (I hope), and Junoes aide,
The Trojane ships have heir the cowrse intended;
What citty, (sister), sall of this be made,
If such alliance prosperowsly wer ended?
What reignes arise, if Troy with vs wer one?
With what triumph should Africk shine anone?

“Plead first, frome heaven, protectione divine,
Pretending cawses to thy ghuest of stay,
Till stormes be still, the seas to smile incline,
Ships saiff may saile, and heavens their furie lay.”
Her kindled breast thus Anna did enflame,
Swa hope she caught, exiling dowbt and shame.

How easily do women women move,
To whome they truste the secret of their heart!
By her perswasion, O how quick doth love
Disperse the self, and spreed in every parte
A furiows flame, a fumeing fever fell!
No antidote this poyson can expell.

To church they haste, and first heaven's peace entreate,
On altars off'ring to the gods above,
To Ceres, Phaebus, and to Bacchus great,
To Juno chiefly, who hath care of love.
With cuppe in hand, the Queen herself doth syne
Powre foorth vpon the sacrifice the wyne.

Or at the altars off'ring gifts she spaces,
Observing what new Fortunes do ensue;
Marking the bowells, and the breathing places
Of every beast, with most attentive viewe,
Which open to her sight; with narrow eyes,
She gaz'd and guess'd; what all doth boad she sies.

Ah fond conceits! What do her vowes availl?
Or what do temples sought her rage empare?
Whill as her marrow doth already faill,
With soaking flames consumed, dry'd vp with care,
And whill enclos'd into her breast profound,
She nourisheth a deadly feast'ring wound.

Like as the dear, which wounded vnawar,
With hunter's shaft fast fix't into her side,
Runnes headlongs heir and their, both near and far,
But still the dart doth in her breast abide,
So Dido, poyson'd with a deadly head,
Butt rest doth rage, sore martyr'd but remeid.

Through stately Carthage now her ghuest she guides,
With gloriows shows to entertaine his sight;
Now sumptuows banquets painfully provides,
With variows objects surffeiting delight.
Then Trojane toyles with burning minde to heere,
Oft she entreats, and gives most watchfull eare.

But whill she speaks, her speach confus'd doth faill,
Whill frome her minde her wav'ring tongue debordes;
With looks anone she doth anew assaill,
Dumb oratours perswading more then words;
Whose silent language doth most lively teach,
How meane a messenger in love is speach.

100

For loe! her eyes, the index of her minde,
With piercing lookes imperiowsly entreate,
And tell her lover that, too long vnkinde,
He overlookes her passionat estate.
O heavenly Rhet'rike! which butt words reveals
What modesty in women still conceales.

But ah! whil he is gone, and night's pale face
Day doth displace, provoking pleasant rest,
Oft she alone laments, oft doth embrace
The happy place which he of late imprest.
Oft to her trowbled senses it appeares,
That him still present she both sees and heares.

Then ȝoung Ascanius she doth entertaine,
His parents portrate perfectly presenting,
Whome in her armes she softly doth enchaine,
By sweits suppos'd, her sowres of life relenting.
Thus stealing by the slowely sliding howres,
So to subdue loves still assailing powers.

Her careles minde, slouth, meanwhile, doth supprise;
Buildings begun ar left: ȝowth armes despise;
No bullwarkes brave, no rampiers rare arise,
But all engine of warre imperfect lies.
No martiall thought her minde doth more retaine,
For love and slouth insep'rable remaine.

When Juno, from her azure pale, espied
With such a frensie Didoes minde infected;
And when her furiows fever, such she tried,
As no reporte nor rumour she respected,
To Venus first her cowrse she doth direct,
And to the Goddes thus begowth to break:

101

“How great thy conquest, glory and renowne!
Thy boy and thow victoriows parte the spoile.
Have two, of heavenly issue both, throwne downe
One simple woman? O! a famows foile.
Art a beleving lady, vnadvised,
By Cupid conquer'd, and thy slight supprised?

“Oh poore weak conquest! But to what effect
Thus keep we armes? Why peace and amity
Prefer we not, though earst we did suspect
Owr prowd skie-reaching wals of Carthage hie?
Those feares remov'd, now at thine owne desire,
Thow hast what heart can wish or tongue require.

“Love-sick Eliza now thy boy doth burne.
The furiows forge Æneas feeds alone.
O! let vs then conjoine, withowt returne,
With equall love vniting both in one.
Now Dido may be tyed to Trojane mate,
And thow receave, in tougher, Carthage great.”

But Venus soone the stinging snake espied,
Hid in the grasse, quick in her guilded wordes,
And counterfeet the Siren's song she tried;
To whome the Goddes answere thus affordes,
(Perceiving that of policy she spak
From Italy Æneas to keip back.)

“Who war so mad, with the in armes contend,
Refuse thy freindship, or thy sutes denie?
If fates owr projects happily would end!
But O, I feare, when Jove owr minds doth trie,
If he will graunt this purpose to approve,
And if assent those partyes joine in love.

102

“Thow art his spowse, thow boldly may assay
To learne [his] will; lead thow the way I followe.”
“That parte,” (quoth shee), “pertaines to me to play,
That fuird, though fear'd, I hope to find but shallowe.
But how the present purpose finish may,
Give eare, and shortly I sall showe the way.

“Soone as Aurora frome her bed of roses,
Arising chearfully, beginnes to blush;
And, in the East, heavens cristall gate vncloses,
From whence big-looking Phaeton doth rush
With flaming haire; then are those lovers two
A hunting in the woddes resolv'd to goe.

“There, whil the horsemen, prancing to and fro,
Enclose abowt with hounds the trembling deir,
I, frome above, a tempest downe shall thro',
A fearfull storme, till all their troupes reteir.
With thund'ring noyse both heaven and earth sall shake,
Perforce the hunters shall the fields forsake.

“Their mates, butt more, shall all at once be gone;
None shall abide, but all in darknes stray;
With sable wings night shall envolve anone
The world each where: all shall in darknes stray.
One cave shall then, (butt witnes more), containe
The Trojane prince and Carthaginiane queene.

“Where, if thow firmely to my minde accord,
I shall be present, and with mutuall vowes
Mak her his wife, and him her mate and lord,
In all respects to vse her as his spouse;
Both tying with vnseparable bands,
In Hymen's presence joining hearts and hands.”

103

The Goddes showing by a gracefull smile,
That she applauded vnto Junoes minde,
Begowth to laugh when shee perceiv'd the guile,
And gave a signe in token she enclin'd,
And to the purpose did assent, and so,
Whil they devise, the night away doth go.

Aurora blushing then at once appeares.
The gallant ȝowthes for pastime all prepare,
With nets of ev'ry sorte, with hunting speares;
The horsemen haste with hounds, of sent most rare.
Before the palace all the cowrt attends
The Queen's aryvall, whil the morning spends.

With gold attir'd, and robes of costly worth,
Threat'ning the bitt, her palfrey stamping stayed.
With mighty traine herself then marches foorth,
With broid'red mantle, hunter-like arrayed.
Of gold her quaver, gold her loks divids,
And purple garment, tied with gold, abides.

Lo! now, the prince Ascanius proceeds,
Accompany'd with all the Trojane peers.
Æneas last majestickly succeeds,
Whose brave proportion all, butt match, admires.
With stately cariage, marching forward fast,
Till with the Queen his troupes he joines at last.

Most like Apollo, shuneing winters stormes,
When Zanthus' floods, and Lycia's cold he flyes,
And to his native soile himself conformes,
To Delos, there to feast and sacrifize.
For gladenes all th' inhabitants do shout,
Dancing with joy the altars round about.

104

On Cynthus' toppes the God doth proudly space,
With hov'ring locks, which drest in circling rownds,
With Lawrell garlandes, and with golden lace,
Are touss'd; his shafts betwix his shoulders sounds.
So march't the stately Trojane; such his grace,
Such was the beauty of his heavinly face.

How soone the' aryv'd upon the montaines hie,
And found the haunts where as the beasts had stayed;
Behold! the deir downe from the rocks do flie,
Coursing abroad, athort the fields affrayed.
Both heards of Hart and Hinde the hills forgoe,
And in one globe with feet the dust vpthroe.

But in the vaile Ascanius doth abide,
Making his steid his ȝowthfull rider feele;
And now doth one, now others over-ride,
With dastard beasts disdaining more to deele,
But earnestly wisheth for some foamie boare,
Or that ane ramping lyon once would roare.

Heaven's ordinance with this the earth do threat,
With noyse and terrour; fire and lightnings flie;
Of raine and rageing wind a tempest great,
With horride darknes, dimme the worlds bright eye;
Fire, water, air, and earth seame all anone,
With hiddeows tumult, intermixt in one.

Not trees alone but solide rocks do shake,
Assail'd by rageing torrents tumbling downe
Frome toppes of steipest montaines: all forsake
The fields, affrayed in every rill to drowne.
Their troupes, divided, search themselves to shroud
Frome furiows heavins, with thunders roaring lowd.

105

One cave, whil all the tempest dark do shield,
The Trojane Duke and Dido both contained.
Prodigiows presages sad earth did ȝeeld,
With them when Juno in the cave convein'd.
The guilty air gave light; the fire did glance;
And montaine Faryes did bewaile the chance.

Looke! how a Comet, whose bright flamming haire
Brings tidings sad of dearth, or death of kings,
Drawes all men's eyes to gaze amidst the aire,
Conjecturing thereby of future things;
So, whil at first, the Princes beauty shin'd,
Æneas wond'ring ravish't was in minde.

Her pure vnborrowed blush, her native white,
The piercing rayes of her victoriows eyes,
Bred in his soule such singulare delight,
And did his senses suddainely supprise,
In such a sort, that of all sense denude,
He long a lifles, senseles statue stoode.

But soone her looks, of pow'r t'awaken death,
And ravish with amazement hardest hearts,
Reviv'd him frome his traunse, recal'd his breath,
And to his sleeping senses life empartes;
Who instantly confines, within his armes,
His sweetest Siren, who his fancie charmes.

Sie now how honour, love, and modesty,
With diverse colours dye her blushing cheeks!
When, (lay'd aside respect of majesty),
The fort to render, proud Æneas seeks.
And whil, (desire rul'd by the blinded boy,)
Loves sweet-stolne sport he labours to enjoy.

106

With faint repulses and denialls sweet,
Lo! how she shrinking, strives his sutes to shune;
But he now offers force, now doth entreate,
And still persewes, till last the prise is wonne.
The jemme enjoy'd, which women hold so deare,
And honour prostrate, blushing did reteare.

Can words, can vowes, can feeble hands resist,
With hote desire whil ȝowthfull blood doth boyle?
Though she repine, do his assaults desist?
Small glory is a ȝeelded foe to foyle.
Women must still deny and vse defences,
Till charming Cupid lull a sleep the senses.

This wrought to sin, anone she waxeth bold,
And mutually her mate doth entertaine;
Loe! how her strict embraces him enfold,
Whil as they issue frome the cave againe,
Nothing asham'd to come in open sight,
Thus vse in sinning soone maks sin seame light.

This disemall day did Didoes death begin;
This day of all her sorrowes was the source:
Now neither fame she cares, nor shame, nor sin,
Nor more devises any secrete cowrse
To cloake her love; but mariage this she thinks,
And at this foule offence, (effronted), winks.

Swift-flying fame those tydings quickly spreads,
And suddaine rumours soone through Africk sends.
Fame, which by flight and moving lives & breads,
Lurks first belowe, then straight to hevin ascends.
With nimble wings from earth she doth arise,
And hides her head amidst the starry skies.

107

Her mother earth, (whil as her brood rebelld
Against the gods, with blind ambition driven,
Themselves ov'rthrowne, their proud designes repell'd,
Darring to scale the batlements of heaven),
Her brooded foorth, (they say), in great despight,
A sister light of foot, and swift of flight.

A fearfull monster, horrible butt match;
How many wav'ring plumes her carcasse beares,
Als many eyes them vnderneath do watch;
(A wondrous thing to showe), als many eares
Still heark both near and far, throughowt all bounds;
Als many mowthes; als many tongues resounds.

Twixt heaven and earth, by night she nimbly flyes.
Her brazen trumpe to sownd she sleep forsakes.
Great cittyes oft by day she terrifyes.
On turrets hie she sitts, when rest she takes.
And whil she showes what she hath seene by viewe,
Things ofter fain'd she doth reporte then true.

Then diverse rumours she disperst anone,
Blazing abroad both things vndone and done.
How to Æneas, of the Trojanes one,
The matchles Dido dain'd her self to joine,
Who given to please the flesh, (a life vnjust),
Care-les of kingdomes, live in lawles lust.

With those reportes whil she the world did fill,
To loath'd Hiarbas now she taks her flight,
And showes this lover even the worst of ill,—
How, he disdain'd, a stranger joyes his right.
This king was Joves owne sone, and child most deare,
Whome Garamanth the noble nymph did beare.

108

An hundreth temples in his large empire,
An hundreth altars are to Jove vpraised,
Where he hath consecrate a quencheles fire,
Where, night and day, th' eternall gods are praised.
The blood of bullocks cover all the grounde;
Sweit smelling floures through all the flures are founde.

He, mad almost in minde, depriv'd of rest,
Sore griev'd and with those bitter newes displeased,
Himself in presence of the gods addrest,
And their before the altars sacrifized.
With humble heart, and hie erected hands,
Thus powring foorth his plaints to Jove he stands:

“Æternall Jove! whom Lybianes all adore,
As heaven's most gloriows guide and judge supreme,
On carpetts ritch, to thy immortall glore
Solemnely feasting, celebrate thy name.
Beholdst thow this, O father most benigne!
Of heaven and earth the sempiternall king.

“Though, frome above, thow fire-flaughts downe dost throwe,
(Dread soveraigne!) ȝit we nothing are affrayed;
Though by thy lightnings we thy wraith do knowe,
Ȝit not-the-les owr wickednes is stayed;
As lacking force, thy fires no fear affords,
And judgements past no mortall more records.

“A woman, wand'ring in owr coastes of late,
To whome, both towne and bounds where she remain'd
I gave, with lawes to governe her estate,
My mariage most vngrately hath disdain'd,
And plac'd a stranger over her empires,
As only Sov'raigne of her soules desires.

109

“And now he, Paris-like, with mates disguised,
Half-men, half-maids, resembling both or neither,
His curled head with Phrygian mytre guised,
With balmed haires, his spoyles enjoyes the rather.
But we, befoire thine altares gifts do heape,
And nothing els but fruteles fame do reape.”

Him playning thus, with melancholiows minde,
The Thund'rer heard, and turning straight his eyes
To Carthage cowrt, (whose stately turrets shin'd
'Gainst Phœbus' rayes), where he those lovers sees,
Drunk with delight of sin, not careing shame,
Whole given to lust and misregarding fame:

“Go, Mercury, my sone, mak haste,” he sayes,
“And with Æolian wings addresse thy flight
To Carthage, where the Trojane chiftane stayes,
And kingdomes given by Fate regardes so light.
Go swiftly sliding through the subtle aire,
My vncontrolled will to him declare.

“None such fair Venus promeist he shuld prove,
Nor twise for this from Graecian armes reskued;
But one to daunt sterne Mars, not doate in love,
Ov'r Italy to reigne, by him subdued.
To kythe his courage frome his noble race,
And mak the world each where his lawes embrace.

“If no desire of glore can raise his spright,
Nor loves for praise to putt himself to paine,
Should he Ascanius frustrate of his right?
Amidst his foes what meanes he to remaine?
Nor looks what justly to his ayres doth fall?
To sea he must! this is the summe of all!”

110

This said: the God hence, (swift as thought), he flew,
With nimble feathers to the winds displayed;
Divides the cristall sphears and circles blew,
And cutts the clouds, with golden wings arrayed.
The mover first, the light and shyning fire
He leaves, descending frome great Jove's empire.

The Ramme, the bull, the Twinnes he passeth nixt,
With all the signes the Zodiak adorne.
Owtrunnes the cowrse of straying starres and fixt,
Of planets, which the rest in beauty scorne,
And glist'ring bright, each in a golden robe,
With gloriows lustre, grace heaven's azure globe.

Now by the Artick Pole he swiftly slides,
Owtflyes the eagle and the silver swan,
The flamming dragon, which the Beirs divides,
The Dolphin ravish't with delight of man,
The croune and speare, with many many a million
Of lamps, which light this spatiows pavillion.

This climate cold, where haill, where frost and snowe,
Where raine and thunders, heat and cold do strive,
He leaves als swift as shaft from archers bowe,
And in a sweitter soyle doth soone arive,
Where as the Hydra, and the hirpling Hare,
As mates, in the Antartick Pole repare.

A rod he bears, by which he calls againe,
And sends downe soules to Plutoes dark empires;
Both giveth sleep, and sleeping doth restraine,
Lenthes and abridges life, as he desires.
Still thus he flyes, till he discerne the tops
Of Atlas hudge, the Pole which vnderprops,—

111

Of aged Atlas, whose pyn-bearing browes,
With sable clouds encompast all abowt,
Nor haile, nor sleet, nor wind, nor weit eschewes;
Adoune his shoulders raging spates do spowt;
Whose wrinkled chin great floods do overflowe,
And hiddeows beard maide stiff with frost and snowe.

Heir first his flight heaven's nimble herauld stayes;
Hence posts with speed, his cowrse through th' ocean plying,
And as the swiftest bird, a thowsand wayes,
Now soaring hie, now low her feathers trying,
Alongst the coast of Africk still he flyes,
Till stately Carthage now at lenth he sees.

Heir whil he first with winged feet did light,
And touch't the turrets of those buildings rare,
Anone Æneas he perceaves in sight,
Raising ritch monuments amidst the aire,
To building bent, begirt with sword most bright
With jasper stones, which, starrified, gave light.

With Tyrian purpour robe arayed he shin'd,
Hung frome his shoulders, gloriows to behold,
Which gifts the noble Dido had propin'd,
Wov'ne by her self, and warpt with twist of gold.
No sooner him thus busied he beholds,
But instantly his message sad vnfolds.

“Thow most effeminatly who dost found,
And, (far from hence), heir sumptuous buildings reares,
Skie-reaching castells raising from the ground,
Vnmindfull of thy kingdome and effaires;
To the I come, to the, frome heavens above,
The winged herauld of great thund'ring Jove.

112

“Hee hath given charge I should imparte his minde.
What meanst thow heir in Africk to remaine?
To conquere glory if thow be not inclin'd,
Nor loves for praise to put thy self to paine,
Ascanius rising ȝit behold, and wey
The hope of ayers from him by just degrie,

“To which the crowne of Italy is due,
To which the Romane empire appertaines.
To sea thow must!” Thus said, he bids adieue,
And visible no more at all remaines
To mortall sight: as Phœbus beames do banish
A sable cloud, so did the god evanish.

But now, sad Prince, what stand'st thow thus amazed?
What passions the perplexe? why lookst thow pale?
What suddaine sorrowes on thy soule have seazed?
What froward fate hath turn'd thy blesse to baill?
What woes so vive, charact'red in thy face,
Thus overcloud the rayes of princely grace?

As one whome fearfull visions do affright,
In nature's dear embraces laid a sleep,
Whil Hydras and Chymeras mock the sight,
And wound the soule with apprehensions deep,
Whil as this masse, wherein nought moves but breath,
Oft starts, whil gastly Gorgones threatne death;

So still he stands, nor voyce nor gesture steirs,
With armes acrosse; his colour comes and goes;
Words find no vent; confus'd with suddaine feares,
His haires for horrour and affright vprose.
Sad, pale, astonisht, and of sense bereft
He seem'd; this sight such deep impression left.

113

But, self-return'd, he layes aside respect
Of things humane to Jove's eternall will.
He must not follow what he doth affect.
What heavens command poore mortalls must fulfill.
Now must he leave his princesse and her state.
Who may resist inevitable Fate?

But ah! (sad soule), what shall he first attempt?
How dar he this his enterprise reveale
To furiows Dido? how her minde relent?
What way with her dar he begin to deale?
Resolving now, now changing, nought contents,
In diverse partes his dowbtsome minde he rents.

At last his captaines he concludes to call,
(As only best advise to be embrac'd),
Sergestus, Mnestheus, and Cloanthus tall;
Straight gives command their fleet to rig in haist,
And by their counsell, providence, and care,
For flight by sea doth privily prepare.

Their souldiers they do secretly conveene,
In readines remaining on the shoare,
In shining armes who suddainly ar seene
For feare of any following vproare,
And cawses fain'd, to keip their plots vnkend,
Of such novationes publickly pretend.

He meanwhile minds, whil Dido least doth knowe,
And doubts no breach of such sure founded love,
To try her pleasant hours most fitt to showe,
And search if he her owne consent could move.
Their prince's pleasure they, butt more delay,
Haste all anone with glaidnes to obey.

114

But watchfull Dido did the guile perceive,
And fand the cowrse intended for their flight,
(What slight so great a lover can deceive?
What fetch of fyne device could syle her sight?)
Then foorthwith fame disperst for newes abroade,
In readines their ships at anchore roade.

She, mov'd in minde, with looks and gesture sad,
With hiddeows clamoure railes the streets through owt,
Most like the furiows Thyas running mad,
The fearfull leader of that rageing rowt;
Whil as the Moenads, who abhorre the light,
Do sacrifize to Bacchus in the night.

With boundles rage, thus overrul'd a space,
Anger and furie in her face did flame;
Mad passions did her patience displace,
Despight and rancour reason overcame;
Wraith keipt in words, sighs only passage finde,
Whose vapours vented, ease her burden'd minde.

At last, more calme, she thus begowth to speak,
(Extremity to words a way affords:)
“Dost thow intend, deir lord,” (quoth she), “to break
Thy solemne vowes, and violate thy words?
Thy sad departure frome thy love to hyd,
And frome thir shoares thus secretly to slyde?

“Whither, O cruell! whither dost thow flie?
What discontent thus change in the doth move?
What wrong, (alas!), or what offence in me,
Thus maks the loath and vilipend my love?
With too much kindnes art thow overcloyed?
Or ar my favowrs hated, 'cawse enjoyed?

115

“Ah! 'twas not so, when thow did pensive sit,
Sigh, faine to die, look pale, protest, and sweare,
Vowing thy service at my feet, whil ȝit
For all thy oathes thy policies appear.
By sad experience, O! I find it true,
That seldome lust delights in what is due.

“But ȝit the world in me some fault may deeme,
(For poore, weak women euer bear the blame),
Why thow my bed, as stayn'd, dost disesteeme,
Regardles of my favour, thy defame.
But I to the appeal, if ere my ȝowth
Gave proofe of ought butt vndistained trewth.

“Did my cold breast so long vnwarm't remaine
From men's deceits, and charming flatterings free,
Nor once one thought of love did intertaine,
Cruell to all, but kinde alone to the?
Keipt I so long my marble minde vnshaken,
To be by the disdain'd, and thus forsaken?

“Stay ȝit, O! stay, my Deir, possesse in peace
The jewell, which of laite so dear thow prised;
And be not author of her sad disgrace,
Who cannot breath and be by the despised.
Returne, Deir Lord, leave not thy halfe behind,
What I entreate with tears thy oathes do bind.

“Oh! hast thow ells forgot, (when in the cave
Thy guilded words and vowes first won the field;
When, to thy sutes, consent my silence gave,
And poore beleving I, myself did ȝeild.)
How thow did swear, resolve, protest and vow,
Still to be hers, whom thow disdainest now?

116

“How can I think those sighs, so feeling, fained?
Those passionat regrates, but arm'd with airt?
Those looks, so sad, but for the fashion fraimed
To melt with pitty my relenting heart?
Whil thow beneath thy passions seam'd to faint,
And thowsand colours thy pale cheiks did paint.

“Those sighs, regrates, lookes, passions, colours strange,
Though faynd, in me produc't no false effects.
By those betray'd, I from myself did range,
Too prodigall of what thow now neglects;
And headlesly to thy desires consenting;
Whilk breeds in the dislike, in me lamenting.

“If thow object thy love was then entire,
What owtward virtues now in me do want?
Do not thir beautyes even the same appeare,
That did attract thine heart of adamant?
No stolne vermilion blush, to charme delight
With false allurements, did bewitch thy sight.

“That bastard beauty, and adultrate dye,
That new-found falshood, conterfoot of nature,
Shame of owr sexe, the stayne of modesty,
Fewell to lust, to chastity a traitoure,
That mystery to me was still vnknowne,
This red and white was then, as now, mine owne.

“Though loathed beauty lack perswading force,
Now overclouded with afflictions vaile;
Though sutes, nor sighes find pitty nor remorce;
Though passions, plaints, and prayers nought prevaile;
And though thir eyes' bright sunne, obscur'd with smarte,
Lack piercing rayes to penetrate thy heart;

117

“Ȝit cannot my affection nor thy faith,
My constant love, thy promise and right hand,
Nor thine owne Didoes miserable death;—
Can none of those deteine the in this land?
But ah! whil winter's stormes thus raigeing be,
Wilt thow endanger both thy self and me?

“Wilt thow, O cruell thow, to saile mak haste,
Whil boystrows Boreas threats the swelling seas?
Suppone, though Troy ȝit vndestroy'd did last,
And to no forraine countrey now thow flyes,
Whil furiows neptune rageing doth remaine,
Thy native Troy should thow by shipping gaine?

“Ah! fleest thow me? ȝit by those streaming teares,
Which leaue affliction's furrowes on my face;
By thy right hand, by all the hopes and feares
Possesse poore lovers, by those oathes, alace!
Which me betrayed, by owr espousall day,
And by that love thow bar'st me once, I pray,

“If ever I of the did well deserve,
To the ought dear if ever Dido gave,
Showe now compassion; firme thy faith observe;
My life and croune from death and ruine save.
O! let my prayers ȝit relent thy minde,
If any place with the my sutes may finde.

“For thee, the Lybian Kings conspire my wrack;
For thee, the hatred of mine owne I beare;
For thee alone, my shamefast lyf I brack,
And Fame I lost, to me nor life more deare.
To whom thus leavest thow me, to die with shame,
O ghuest? I dar no more the husband name.

118

“Ah! loathed Dido, must thow live to sie
Thy foes triumph? thy self detained a slave?
Ȝit, if at least before thy flight from me,
My luck had been succession sweet to have;
If any small Æneas heir did play
Within this hall, thy face who might bewray,

“Those sorrowes then I should not shrink to prove,
Nor vtterly forsaken should I seeme.”
Thus clos'd she weeping, but no words culd move
His marble minde, he doth so much esteime
The Thund'rer's will. With stedfast eyes he stair'd,
And, obstinate, for answere thus prepar'd:

“Deir Queen! (quoth he), I never shall deny
Thy favowres far surmount my meane deserts.
Thy beauty's bountys, and thy loyaltie,
Would ravish with remorce the hardest hearts.
Nor shall I euer cease, (till heavens afford
My life's last gaspe), thy kindnes to record.

“Those dear delights which I enjoyed of the
No tract of time shall frome my minde remove.
Dear shall thy memory be still to me;
Dear the remembrance of Eliza's love;
And, where so e're remov'd, thow may by right
Esteime me still thy souldier and thy knight.

“But to the purpose briefly I replie:
As to this end I never heir arived
Myself in Hymen's sacred bands to tie,
To be of dearest liberty deprived.
So, butt thy knowledge, neither did I minde
To steale from hence, forȝetfull, and vnkinde.

119

“If heavens and Fortune did assent that I
My life, according to my minde, shuld lead,
Demolish't Troy in dust no more should lie,
And Priam's tow'rs should ȝit amazement bread.
Those hands my native city should restore,
And raise anone to all her former glore.

“To Itally, but now Apollo great,
To Itally the dest'nyes me command.
Their my delight, my countrey, mine estate.
How canst thow my departure thus withstand?
As thow a stranger dost in Africk stay,
Why may not I to Italy mak way?

“How oft dark night with shadowes overcasts
Earth's low'ring face, and glist'ring starres arise;
Anchises' ghost als oft my soule agasts
With fearfull visions to my sleeping eyes;
Admonishing, with terrour and affright,
Me to forgoe thy soyle and deirest sight.

“Ascanius als, whom I vnjustly wrong,
By dreames appeareth frustrate of his right,
Keipt from the croune of Itally so long,
And fatall bounds; both those steir vp my flight.
And now wing'd Hermes, sent from Jove to me,
Commands from hence that I in haste should flie.

“Myself the God within the walls appeare
(Whil as dayes bright beames wer shining) did perceive;
His heavenly voyce thir humane ears did heare.
Leaue then, (I pray), dear Queen, those things to crave,
As may steir vp both the and me to woe.
To Italy against my will I goe.”

120

Him speaking thus, she, sore perplext in minde,
(With greiff in heart and sorrow in her face,
Rolling each where her eyes with lookes vnkinde,
As in amazement), did behold a space.
Not able more her passion to suppresse,
Those bitter words, at last, she doth expresse:

“Remorceles traitour, whom I held too deare!
Sprung from no parents, but of brutish kinde,
The Paphyen Queen such brood did never beare,
Nor the Anchises gott, O wretch vnkinde!
But of the hoarse sea wavs, and hardest stane,
Nurst by some Tigresse, thow hast essence taine.

“Why do I longer my designes disguise?
For what things more should I myself reserve?
Oh! how he did my wofull plaints despise,
And stood vnmov'd, whill I for greiff did swarve.
All my regrates and tears, powr'd foorth in vaine,
From his hard breast one sigh could never straine.

“Ay me! what shall I first lament (alace)?
Ay me! where shall my tragoedy begin?
Let heauens behold my sad afflicted cace,
The grievs and woes I am envolved in.
Let mighty Jove, let Juno from above,
Look on my wrongs and ill-rewarded love.

“Ȝe happy maids, in fredome who enjoy
The dear delights of sacred chastity,
Free from the slee deceits of Venus' boy,
Secure frome danger of disloyalty;
Who never ȝit have knowne men's perjuries,
Nor stand in neid of Argus' hundreth eyes;

121

“O ȝe, who, (Phœnix like), do live but one;
Whose vertew's streame vntrubled still runnes pure;
Frie birds, whom never hand hath seaz't vpon,
From fouler's whisle and deceits secure;
Frie from love's plague and perillows infection,
Nor wonne by men, nor vassaills to affection;

“O never, never to the oaths giue eare,
Nor truste that impiows and vnfaithfull race,
Who ne're to vs do what they are appeare,
(Perniciows instruments of owr disgrace);
And whatsomever showe they do pretend,
Nought but owr shame and infamy intend.

“Their vows, their prayers, protestations, teares,
Are all but fain'd to breid in vs compassion.
None minds his oaths, nor meanes the thing he sweares,
Ȝit cunningly can con̄terfitt a passion.
Owr tender hearts with pitty which betraying,
Works their advantage, and owr sure decaying.

“O then, how of owr favours kinde they boast,
And overcloud with black reproach owr fame!
Thus are owr fortunes mar'd, owr honours lost,
By those who ar delighted in owr shame.
Let Dido's sad experience serve to prove
Their is no trewth in men, nor trust in love.

“No trust in love, nor trewth in men remaines.
This wretch whom seas had naked cast on shoare,
I, (foolish I), prefer'd, who now disdaines
My self, my scepter, and will stay no more;
Vnmindfull miser whom I did receive,
And plac'd, as Lord, ov'r me and all I have.

122

“What furys thus (alace!), incense my breast?
Apollo now! now Oracles Divine!
Now heaven's great messenger is thus impesht!
Quhat ells? Now thund'ring Jove doth thus encline,
And hath his winged herauld sent to vs!
It's like enough the gods ar busied thus!

“A deep invention, forg'd by fine deceit,
I neither hold it's trew, nor false repells.
Go, cruell, go! to Italy, ingrate!
Go, traitour! where thy dest'nies the compells.
Go with such joy, such comfort, peace, and rest,
As now thow leaves in my afflicted breast.

“I hope, in midst of furiows rageing seas,
(If heavens with equity behold my wrongs),
Vengeance on the, in presence of thir eyes,
For thy deserts, shall fall, the rocks amongs,
Where Dido, whom thow oft by name shall call,
With brands of fire thy conscience shall apall.

“And when death's inevitable decree
My body from my better halfe shall parte,
My angry ghost, till I avenged be,
Shall the persew each where with armes and airt,
Nor earth's lowe centre, neither heaven nor hell,
Shall shield the frome my spight and fury fell.”

Ov'rcome with passion, she no more could speak,
But, preassing to eschew his hatefull sight,
Excesse of greiff her purpose heir did break,
(Her latest words scarce heard, nor vtt'red right).
Her vitall powers did faill, her life did faint,
And death his image in her face did paint.

123

Thus, sleeping in a traunce, his eyes she fled,
And left him, (wofull wight), himself alone,
Full many things prepareing to have said,
And maid reply. With that her maids anone,
With ruefull cryes, her frozen corps do bear,
And her in bed they lay with duilfull chear.

But now Æneas, though he much enclined,
(Ov'rcome with greiff, and wounded with remorce),
T' have calm'd the tempest of her troubled minde
With chearfull words, touch't with affection's force;
Whil as the tears, which from his eyes did slide,
If seene by her, her rage had mollifi'd;

Afflicted soule! what shall he now resolve?
To heavens and her his duety how discharge?
A labyrinth of dowbts doth him envolve;
Pitty withstood what Jove did strictly charge;
Constraint him led at lenth, with ruefull look,
Loe! how of her, his last farewell he took.

Hard hearted lover to thy loyall love!
Could not the sunne-set of those lovely eyes,
(Whil death her senses stopt), to pitty move
Thy flinty heart? O! so to tyrannize
Ov'r conquer'd beauty, to thy fame adds soyle:
The victor seldome leaves behind his spoyle.

Now Trojanes all with earnestnes endevore
Their fleet to loose, and launch into the deepe:
Ships, hulks, and galleyes slide along the shore,
And frome the haven with pitched keills do creep.
Trees ȝit vnshapen, blooming leawes for haste,
And oakes ȝit floorishing for oares they plac't.

124

Them, swarming frome the portes, ȝow might have spyed,
All rushing headlongs, hasting from the towne;
As emmets, whil for winter they provide,
Disperst abroad, each running vp and downe,
An heap of corne do spoyle, and beare away
To those hid dennes where they intend to stay.

Those little troupes marche through the fields butt feare,
And through darne passages their spoyles convoy;
The greatest graine on shoulders some do beare,
With all his might each doth himself employ.
With earnest repare the paths do seeme to sweate:
So ran the Trojanes to launch foorth their fleate.

What minde, (alace!) then Dido, was to the?
What sense of sorrow? what vnkindly care?
What deep-drawne sighs? when thow, (sad soule), didst see,
(Wak't from thy traunce), such tumult every where.
When all the Ocean seem'd, frome shore to shore,
With thund'ring noyse into thine eares to rore.

O love! thow tyrant love! what humane wight
Feeles not the force of thy vnbounded ire?
What breathing creature may resist thy might?
Thy fierce assaults, thy bowe, thy shafts, thy fire?
What dost thow not poor mortall's force to trie,
Subjected once vnto thy tyranny?

Now is she forc't, who late triumph't ov'r love,
Againe to treat, againe to turne to teares;
A poore petitioner constrain't to prove,
An humble supplicant to closed eares;
And least, vntried, she ought had overpast,
Thus she resolv's to try him ȝit at last.

125

“O! Anna! Anna! siest thow now what haste
Those impiows traitours mak from hence to saile?
And leaue me loath'd, forsaken, and disgrac't,
Whome death and infamy alike assaile.
Loe! where their fleet, an happy gayle to finde,
Doth ly at anchor, waiting on the winde.

“If ever such an ocean of annoyes,
A waste abysse, a boundles gulf of greiff,
I could have fear'd should thus have drown'd my joyes,
Those feares afforded might haue my releiff.
But, (sister), ȝit before my tragick fate,
Go, charg't with teares, this last requeest entreate.

“For, faithles, he to the alone gaue eare,
To the alone his minde he would reveale;
Thow knows his graciows howres, O sister deare;
Thow knows his times, most fitt with him to deale.
Go! I entreat, to my disdainfull foe,
And those few words from his poore Dido shoe.

“'Gainst him with Graecians I did not conspire,
Nor vow'd at Aulis ancient Troyes disgrace;
Nor sent I navies, armed with sword and fire,
To sack his citty, or extirpe his race.
Anchises' ghost, inter'd, I did not teare.
Why, why refuses he my words to hear?

“Where hastes he headlongs? whither doth he move?
Nought ells I crave, (O! let him now obey
This last request of me his dying love),
Before his flight let heavens their fury lay,
O! let him stay whil Æol's rage doth last,
Till Thetys calme, till perill first be past.

126

“Rejected Hymen, now I crave no more,
Nor sues he should forgoe his mindes delight.
Showe him nought ells his Dido doth emplore,
But let him choose a time more fitt for flight.
A pause to slack my fury I beseach,
My state to mourne, till me my fortune teach.

“This latest fauour, this my last desire,
I humbly plead; pitty thy sister's state,
And when thow hast obtain'd what I require,
To all my greiffs death shall afforde a date.”
Thus she entreats, thus Anna weeping goes,
And thus with teares Æneas' answere sho'es.

But he, (most cruell tyger), stops his eares,
No pitty can prevale to plead remorce;
Sighs are despised, no place is found for teares,
Her sutes vnheard, her prayers have no force.
Fates do withstand, great Jove his eares hath charmed,
And heavens him with an hard'ned heart have armed.

Most like an ancient oake or statly pine,
Which rageing winds impetuously assaile,
And threat the trembling tree to vndermine,
On each side striving her from earth t' vphaile,
With hiddeows noyse which reeling to and froe,
Now heir now their, still seames to overbloe.

Her branches beatne by the storme resound,
Her heaven-bent bewes must either bow or break,
Her straughtest tops are forc't the earth to wound,
But ȝit how much they do themselfs ereck
To heavens; als much her rootes reach downe belowe,
And grips the rocks; no storme can her ov'rthrowe.

127

Even so, Æneas, now for flight prepar'd,
With tears and prayers on each side assail'd,
Though long his minde confus'd with dowbts appear'd,
Ȝit neither pitty, plaints, nor words avail'd;
He stedfast stands, sighes can no favour gaine;
Torrents of teares ar powred foorth in vaine.

128

THE THIRD BOOKE,

CONTAINING ÆNEAS DEPARTURE AND DIDOES TRAGAEDY, &c.

Now woefull Dido, sad afflicted wight,
Greiv'd with the Fates' vnflexible decree,
Her heavy soull abhorres the loathed light,
Charg't with affliction and anxietie.
Heaven's cristall vaults she wearyes more to view,
Resolv't at once to bid the world adiewe.

Whil as on altars she did incense burne,
It seem't she saw, (a monstrows sight to showe),
The liquours black, the wyne in blood to turne,
Presaging her approaching overthrowe.
To none this fearfull vision she reveal'd,
Ȝea, even from Anne, she this sight conceal'd.

Ane chappell als was in the palace plac'd,
Where humbly heavens Sicheus earst ador'd,
Whose marble walls rare artifice had grac'd,
With sacred bewes, and fleeces white decor'd.—
From thence, (whill night earth's face did overcloud),
It seem'd Sicheus call'd her name aloud.

And als the light-envying owle, alone,
With tragick toones her smarte and sorrow shew,
With mourning accents seiming to bemone,
As if she knew some bad mischaunce t' ensue;
Then diverse things, which prophets shew of old,
Her mangled minde with monstrows visions hold.

129

Her oft, by dreames, Æneas fierce doth chace,
Still seaming to be left herself alone,
And vagabounding in ane heavy cace
Through fields vnknowne, accompanyed by none,
Searching her people, but she none can finde,
A tediows journey to her wearyed minde:

As Pentheus mad, affray't by furyes, seam't
Two Sunnes, two Thebes, both at once to see;
Or as Orestes in his fancy dream't
His hydra-headed mother he did flie,
Arm'd all with snakes, and brands of burning fire,
Each place seam't plenisht with revenge and ire.

In guilty conscience having now decreed,
No salue butt death could cure her inward sore,
And with her self on time and forme aggreed,
(Loathing the world, resolv't to liue no more),
This fain'd device, suspicion till eschew,
Of her designes she to her sister shew.

(Her thoughts disguising with a smiling face,
And hope appearing in her eyes to shine):
“O Anna, now rejoyce thy sister's cace,
For I an way have found by rare engine,
Which him with me to stay shall either move,
Or teach me to reclaime from him my love.

“A land theire is, far, far remote from hence,
Which sees the sonne go downe in westerne deeps;
Whose coastes abowt the Ocean doth fence;
Of Æthiopia the name it keeps;
Where Atlas hudge on shoulders strong doth beare,
And vnderprops heaven's star-embroidred spheare.

130

“A virgin preist by chance of Morish lyne,
Expert in magick, hath from thence repair'd,
Who keeps the garden of th' Hesperian tryne,
And feeds the dragon which the frute doth guarde;
Mixing with honey, and with liquours sweet,
The purple poppy which provoketh sleep.

“She, by her charmes, can stop affection's source,
And whom she pleases, als can plague with love;
Torrents ar stayed; stars retrograde their cowrse;
Spreits from belowe do at her word remove;
Dull earth doth roare, and horribly resound,
And tallest trees do headlongs fall to ground.

“Let heavens and the, deir sister! bear recorde,
And witnes to the world, against my will,
That I, constrain'd, to magick airts accorde,
And seeks redresse by such vnlawfull skill.
Go thow, ereck in th' inner cowrt in haste
A fire of wod, vpon the walls hie plac'd.

“Tak syne the sword leaft by this perjur'd wretch,
His cloaths, and als owr haples wedding-bed,
In which I perisht whil I fear'd no bretch;
And let those all vpon the flame be laid,
So that no token vndestroyed may stand
Which him pertain'd. Thus doth the priest cm̄and.”

Heir clois'd she, sighing sore, perplext a space
To stop the currant of her swelling teares;
The crimson dy abandoning her face,
Sad, faint, and pale, she look't, confus't with feares.
Ȝit Anna doubts not that she doth intend
Thus to disguise her death, and cloak her end.

131

No rage so great, no fury so extreame,
She dreids her sister in her thoughts conceav'd;
Nor feares now ought more fearfull till haue seene,
Nor when Sicheus was of life bereav'd.
Wherefore in haste, she, (simple soull), obeyes,
And, to performe her charge, no more delayes.

Ane heap of wod for fire prepair'd at once,
With garlands deckt, and crownd with Cypres bewes.
The Queen her sad misfortunes first bemones,
And with her teares his portrate she bedewes.
Syne with the bed, sword, cloathes, she layes ye same
Vpon the heap, to perish in the flame.

In circles rownd, the altars stand abowt;
The Priest appearing then with hov'ring haire,
With thund'ring noyse, three hundreth times doth showt
On Fiends and Pharyes thither to repare;
Conjuring by some charme or magick spell,
The fowle three headed Hecate from hell.

Then sprinkling waters of the Stygian fount,
They search by night some sucking foale to finde,
And pull the hippom'nes from his tender front,
The mother's minde which to the brood doth binde.
Collecting als, their damned work to speed,
The milkie poyson of each ven'mowse weed.

The Queen herself before the altars stands,
With one foot bair, her garment loosse vntied,
With humble heart, and heaven-erected hands,
Calling to witnes, (now before she dyed),
Her guilty starres, and all the gods above,
Of both their partes,—his perjury, her love.

132

If any pow'r supreme then heavens containe,
Or godhead which such lovers doth regarde,
As loves sweit ȝock, and sympathie, do stayne,
And true affection with disdaine regarde,
With fervent minde, fixing her eyes above,
To such she prayes, mindfull and just to prove.

With mantle dark night now did earth ovrspreed,
Each living soull death's image pale possest.
The savage citiȝens, which life did leed
In wods and waters, all secure did rest.
Whil as the heavenly torches, burning bright,
The equall half had wasted of their light.

The skailly squadrones of the liquid lakes,
The brutish bands which in the deserts dwell,
Easing their wearyed mindes, sweet slumber takes,
Cares past entombeing in oblivion's cell.
But not so Dido: neither sleep nor ease
Vpon her self-consuming minde can sease.

Her cares increase, her sorrowes never sleep;
No night her eyes, no rest her thoughts obtaine;
Despight, wraith, furie,—each his place doth keip;
No paussing-space her troubled spreit doth gaine.
But now, inflamed, she burnes in furiows fire,
Now foorth with freeȝeth in revenge and ire.

“Ah! shall I ȝit assay, (quoth she), to speak
My scornefull victor, proud of my disgrace?
Shall I with shame my former suters seeke?
There sew for favour, there entreat for grace
Where pitty pleaded, I so oft disdain'd?
Where mercy beg'd, I ruethles still remain'd?

133

“Or shall I follow that ingloriows fleet,
Fraughted with falshood, guile, and perjuryes?
As if thy former favours now shuld meet
My discontents, and sad afflictions ease.
O ȝes! performed pleasures, kindnes past,
In gratefull mindes lay'd vp so long doth last.

“Suppone such thoughts to practise I would prove,
Should any second my desires? alace!
Who would regarde so much my loathed love,
As daigne their stips to render me a place?
Forsaken soule, too late thow dost repent,
Thow knew Laomedon's perjur'd discent.

“Shall I, alone, my bragging foes persewe,
Or raise my people to revenge and waste?
And so endanger by the seas anew,
Those, present perill who have scarce ov'rpast?
Fy! Dye thyself! such is thy due desert;
Once let this sword put period to thy smarte.

“Thow, sister, first, thow, by my teares betrayed,
Didst overloade me with this masse of care;
Thow to my foe captiv'd me vnaffrayed;
Thow to mine en'mie mad'st me ȝeeld butt feare.
Ah! might I not have happy liv'd alone,
And never more the cares of wedlock knowne?

“I needed not thus waste in teares my ȝowth,
With love's misfortunes and afflictions crost,
If I had keept inviolate my trueth
To my Sicheus, dear departed ghost.”
Those sad regrates, with all the wofull words
A troubled soull could ȝeeld, she thus affords.

134

But, each thing now for present flight prepair'd,
Æneas in his schip secure did sleep,
When to his eyes the god againe appear'd,
Such as before, and thus did seame to speak,
Lyk Mercury in all, in ȝowthfull stature,
In golden haires, in speach, in face, in feature:

“Fair Venus' issue, canst thow now tak ease,
And pond'rest not thy perillows estate?
Hath sleep so much o'rcome thy fainting eyes,
That thow regard'st no danger nor deceate?
Rests thow secure, whil death doth the invade,
Vnwar what plottes against thy life ar laid?

“Hear'st thow not how the whisling winds invite the?
Sweet-breathing Zephyr with a gentle gale
From hence to haiste seames smilingly t'entraite the;
For death-bent Dido, full of bitter bale,
Transported with a rageing spait of ire,
'Gainst the is minded both with sword and fire.

“And flyest thow not, whil flye thow may'st in peace?
The seas anone shall scarce for shipps be seene;
Thy navy furiows firebrands shall deface,
And all the Ocean in one flame shall seeme,
If fondly thow thy flight frome hence delay,
Till once Aurora parte the night from day.

“Haist! haist! Dispatch with speed! But more be gone!
A woman wav'ring formed is by nature;
Now bent to love, to hate inclyn'd anone,
In only jnconstancie a constant creature.”
This spoken, he evanisht owt of sight
In the ayrie essence of the sable night.

135

Æneas, with this vision dismay'd,
Rouz'd vp his sleepy senses; loud did call:
“Awake, my mates! too long our flight's delay'd;
Hoase sayle in haste! hy to the hatches all!
The thund'rer great hath sent anone by night,
His winged messenger into my sight.

“Now anchors wey! now let's owr navy loose!
Trusse vp owr taickling! cables cut in twaine!
Once let's set fordwart all with one applawse,
Behold, the God admonisheth againe!
We follow the, O gloriows guide, butt stay,
And thy great charge we gladly all obey.

“Be thow propitiows! prosper owr designe!
Adjoine thy presence and thine helping might!
Grant that a prosp'rows Planet now may reigne!
Let happy starres arise to guide owr flight!”
This having said, butt more the anchore roape,
With shyning sword vnsheath't, in twaine he stroake.

One earnestnes then, one fervency to all;
All headlongs haiste; one ardowre all retaine;
They rush, they reele, as heaven and earth did fall,
And overspread with sayles the wat'ry plaine.
On Neptun's back all whyt with foame they ride,
And ov'r the tumbling billows fast do slide.

Now was the time when as Aurora cleare
Over sad earth her silver mantle spread,
And in the Orient blushing did appeare,
Asham't to rise frome aged Tython's bed,
When watchfull Dido from her palace spy'd
The Trojane fleet alongst the coast to glyde.

136

Of shipps, hulks, galleyes, brigandines and barkes,
With wings owtstreatch't, all vnder equall saile,
The hudge armado, watching, she remarkes
Through Neptun's empires with ane evenly gale;
Whil roaring engines, throwing globes off steele,
Did thunder foorth an horrible fareweell.

Beating her breast with blows, with plaints the aire,
Hope's wings cutt of, she enters in despare,
And renting foorth, (enrage't), her golden haire:
“O Jove,” she cries, “who know'st alone my care,
Thus shall he go? And must I, in my soyle,
Of such a vagabound receiue this foyle?

“Thus is he gone? And shall not armes availl?
Or shall my subjects all persue the chase
With fire and sword their scornefull shipps to quail?
Fy! People owt! Their fleet with flames deface!
Hoase sayle in haste! Fy, now ȝowr oares employ,
Sack, wreak, revenge, demolish and destroy!

“Complaints, farewell, which butt bewaill my wrongs,
With armes and arte I will persue to death
This traitour. Vengeance now to me belongs.
In hope alone of sweet revenge I breath.
In crwelty I will this cruell wight
Surpas. No sheild shall saue him frome my spight.

“But what do now prowd words availl, alace?
Where art thow now thus frome thy self astray,
Afflicted Dido? O how hard thy cace!
What suddaine change doth thus thy minde dismay?
Oh how accurst! how haples is thy fate!
These threats (alace!) thow vtters now too late.

137

“Such seem'd the when thy scepter thow didst render,
When thus the fortune of thy foe thow rays'd.
Is this his promise? Is his faith so slender,
Whose piety each where abroad was blaz'd,
Both to his Gods, and aged parent deare,
Whome, worne with ȝeirs, on shoulders he did beare?

“Ah! might I not long since have sent to death
This truethles tyrant and his fellowes all?
Ah! might I not have stop't Ascanius' breath,
And torne his tender flesh in parcells small?
Then drest him for that traitour false to eate,
To fairse his belly with so kindly meate.

“O that I had their shipps once set on fire,
And ov'rlofts all with flaming firebrands fill'd!
O that thir hands at once both sonne and syre,
And all those traitours cruelly had kill'd!
O, then how gladly should this hand and sword
In that same moment als my death afford!

“Thow great Apollo, whose bright gloriows ey
With piercing rayes each work on earth doth viewe;
Thow, Juno, guilty of my misery,
Sacred Diana, with thy silver hew,
Whose triple-horned forhead doth controule
Skies, earth and hell,—the night's swift moving soule;

“Ȝee heavenly pow'rs, just, bountyfull, divine!
Ȝe, in whose safegarde wretch't Eliza lived!
And ȝe, O furyes! O vindictive tryne!
Who venge their wrongs who are vnjustly grieved,
Pitty my plaints! O ȝeeld to my desire!
Vpon those traitours exercise ȝowr ire!

138

“If so must be this exsecrable wight
At heaven's dispose must passe the Stygian tide,
And after death enjoy that wished sight,
Ferry'd by Charon to the farther side,
Ȝit grant! O grant, whil flesh his ghost doth wrap,
Plague, sword and famine, be his surest hap!

“Of awfull natiounes let him feele the force,
Frome place to place persu'd, in saifty never.
Exil'd, in neid, butt any man's remorce,
Dissev'red from his only child for ever.
Imploring pitty, let him none obtaine;
But see his people with dishonour slaine.

“And if he ever peace on earth enjoy,
Short be his reigne; soone may his dayes be spent.
And, whill he breathes, be never butt annoy;
But by vntimely death his powr prevent;
Syne rott on ground butt honour of a grave:
This I emplore, this with my blood I crave.

“Last, to his linage showe despight and ire,
Deir people whose true love a life I fand!
This latest favor onely I require,
Let never love nor league betwixt ȝow stand!
O let mine ashes, after death, afford
One to destroy those clownes with fire and sword!

“As time and place permitts, both now and ay,
Let discord alwise, and debate domine!
Let shoare to shoare, let streame 'gainst streime, I pray,
And let owr ofspring ever armes reteine!”
Heir closing, deeply she doth now revolve,
What way she soonest may her life dissolve.

139

Then calling on Sicheus' aged nurse,
(Of purpose only to be left alone),
“Go, Barce! carefull nurse, direct thy cowrse
To Anna, pray her heir arive anone,
With waters purg't from each polluted thing,
Expiatory offrings caws her bring.

“And thow, enfold with sacred cloithes thine head;
The rites intended now I minde to finish
To Stygian Jove, which must afford remead,
Whereby my cares may peice and piece diminish.”
With aged pase, this said, to haste enclin'd,
She stagg'ring foorth did show her fordward minde.

Now deathbent Dido, (trembling fast for feare
Her horrible attemptings to persue,
Rolling her eyes, which bloody did appeare,
And flaming sparkles of her fury showe,
With sorrow-tainted cheiks, and deadly hew),
Look't pale for horrour of the fact t'ensue.

But quickly ent'ring where the flame was fram'd,
The wodden heap she doth amount anone;
The haples sword she in her hand retain'd
Vnsheath'd, which once pertain'd to him was gone;
That cursed blaide, that instrument of death,
Ordained never to abridge her breath.

Thair whil her eyes, which still butt motion stair'd,
Th' acquainted cowtch and remnant weids did viewe,
Paussing, (now vtterly of life despair'd),
With gushing teares her breath a litle d[r]ew;
Syne tumbling on the bed, withowt moe words,
Thir latest speaches she, poore soull, affords:

140

“O thow sweet vesture! and O happy bed!
Whil heavens above and dest'nyes did permitt,
That once, ah! once with ȝow my life I led,
Receive this soull, frome me which hence doth flitt,
This fleshly preson ready now to leave,
And of all earthly toyles ane end to have.

“My glasse is spent; my time I have owt-lived;
The race is runne, which Dest'nyes did designe;
And as the heavens my terme of life contrived,
Swa have I lived, accomplisht in my reigne.
So now this earthly shaddow goeth to grave;
So now at once this loathed lyf I leave.

“Skie-matching Carthage from the ground I rais'd;
Her staitly walls I floorishing did viewe;
My wrath vpon the prowd Pigmalion seas'd,
My lord Sicheus trait'rously who slewe.
Happy, (alace)! too happy had I beene,
If never Trojane ship my shoare had seene.”

With drowping gesture and dejected eye,
“Die shall I,” sayes she, “and no vengeance finde?
Butt die thow must, faint Dido, boldly die:
Thus, thus my breath I render in the winde.
Now let the traitour viewe, though not regrate,
This flame, the presage of my present Fate.

“But oh! ȝit art thow, (feeble flesh), affray'd?
Why trembles thow to be depriv'd of breath?
Oh coward hand! and art thow als dismay'd
To be the executioner of Death?
Though hands, though flesh doth faint, O fearles knife,
End thow my cares, and cut my threed of life!”

141

With gushing teares, those words whil as she spak,
The cursed blaide but more her purpose brak,
Which in her breast vnto the hilts she strak,
Withowt remorse: O exsecrable fact!
The wepon, foaming in her luk-warme blood,
Maide open passage to the gushing flood.

Her Dams attending see their mistris fall
On piercing sword, with armes abroad owthrow'ne,
Sprauling in paine, with blood begoared all,
Which freshly from her wonded breast was gone:
The skreigh is rais'd, with many rewfull cries,
The clamours great reverberat the skies.

Fame through the citty blaz'd her fall anone;
Anone the streets with those sad newes ar fill'd;
The women wailing ȝeeld a pitteows mone,
Viewing their Princes and their lady kill'd.
Showts, sighs, smarte, sorow, all each where abound;
With hiddeows noyse the hallow hevens resownd.

Most lyk, as by some vnexpected plott,
The rageing en'my ent'red had the citty;
The bulwarks brave downe batt'red all with shott;
With dint of sword destroying all butt pitty.
Whate'ere occur'd made objects of their rage,
Regairdles both of sexe, of ȝowth, of age.

Whil rageing flames of furiows spreiding fire,
The buildings both of gods and men devore:
Whil rewfull cries of those who life require,
With dying groanes for pitty who emplore,
For rewth would rent a flinty heart a sunder:
Such were the clamoures through the air did thunder.

142

But Anna, wofull nymph, ran trembling there,
Confus'd and speachles, where the noyse was heard.
Faint, breathles, pale, astonisht, full of feare,
To see this rewfull object she appear'd;
Then, preissing through the throng, her call'd by name,
And oft, “Dear Dido! Dido!” did exclame.

“Ah sister! wast for this thow sought by slight
To syle my sight, thy curs't designes to cloake?
Ah! wast for this the flame I built on hight?
To this intent or did the altars smoake?
Ah wretched wight, left now thyself alone!
Forsaken soull! what shall I first bemone?

“Did ever I demerite such disdaine,
That thow thine Anna hast at death debarr'd
To be thy convoy? to partake thy paine?
And reape with the the fruits of thy reward?
Hast thow despis'd thine only sister thus?
Such guerdon never was deserv'd of vs.

“O! since one sword, dy'd in a crimson streame,
Had in one moment both bereft of breath.
But ah! and have thir hands, (O lasting shame!)
Prepair'd the flame, as guilty of thy death?
Call'd I my Gods at altars, prostrate lowe,
Alace! ȝit absent at thy last ov'rthrowe.

“Thy self, thy sister, and thy subjects all,
Thy citty, senate, kingdome and estate,
Each by one stroak destroy'd, with the do fall,
And perish all by thy abortive Fate.”
This said: her bleeding wounds she bath'd in haist,
And kyndly her in dying armes embract.

143

Then seazing on her death-seal'd lipps to knowe
If any sponk of breath as ȝit remain'd,
The streaming teares her face did overflowe,
Whil as she, clasping in her armes, retain'd
Her half-dead sister, faintly drawing breath
In dead-throwe ent'ring at the gates of death.

She, feeling in this agony of minde,
(With soft though sad embraces oft bestowd),
Herself in such frequented bounds confin'd,
As mindefull of the favor Anna show'd,
To lift her eyes assay'd, but streight did faill:
Her heart fix't wounds presage a sad farewell.

Then leining on her elbowe, preis'd in vaine,
Thrie times her body from the bed to rayse;
Three times she fainting tumbles downe againe,
Death on her senses ready now to seaze.
Three times she strove to see the cristall skies,
And three times clos'd again her gazing eyes.

Then heaven's Arch-empresse from her azure tent,
Viewing this dead-lyve lover's toylsome end,
Her stormy breast compassion did relent,
And Iris quickly from the clouds did send
To calme the combat, and compoise the sight
Betwix her drossie flesh and ayrie spright.

For sith no dest'ny did abridge her breath,
Nor due deserved death her day prevent;
Both spightfull rage did antidate her death,
And turn'd the Glasse befor her howr was spent.
Her haires as ȝit Proserpine had not touch't,
Nor by such gift th' Elysian groaves enrich't.

144

On saffroun pineouns soaring then anone,
The winged Iris cutts the cristall skies,
In thowsand colours shining 'gainst the Sunne,
Doth light at lenth where this poore patient lyes:
Syne off'ring vp her haires at Pluto's shryne,
“Leave, leave,” (quoth she), “this corps, O soule divine!”

Thus whil she said, with fingers heavenly white
The golden fleece clip't frome her head in haist.
The native heit her limmes abandon'd quite,
Then in ane instant, by cold death displac't,
Her breath expiring, ane eternall sleep
Did piece and piece vpon her senses creep.

Finis.

145

A Spirituall Hymne.

or The Sacrifice of a Sinner To be offred upon the Altar of a humbled Heart to Christ our Redeemer. Inverted in English Sapphicks from the Latine of that Reverend, Religious, and Learned Divine, Mr Robert Boyd of Trochorege

147

Christ, of thy Saints the

Eph. 4. 15

Head, the

Luk. 1. 33.

King,
Whose bountie's vn-exhausted spring
Doth to thy meanest

Ioh. 1. 16.

members bring
Eternall streames of grace,
Give mee, (sweet Saviour,) Thee to sing
In holy hymnes, with heart condigne,
Which eating age, nor envyes sting
Shall in no time deface.

Thou Lord, with glorious beams

Ioh. 1. 9.

all bright,
Blazing around thy Throne of light,

Exod. 33. 20.

Outreaching farre my feeble sight,

1 Tim. 6. 16.

Heere, in death's shade exylde,
Sin's clouds dispell, guilt's loade make light,
Which doth surcharge my fainting spright,
That I may spreade thy praise, thy might,
With heart pure, vndefyl'de.

148

Ioh. 4. 24.

With worship chast, in soule sincere,
Thou shouldst bee celebrate in feare.
Hence, yee

Mat. 7. 6.

vncleane, that darre appeare
With hands, with hearts prophaine.
O! let a

Esay. 6. 7.

Seraphim draw neare,
A flamming Coale whose hand doth beare,
My lips, my heart, from Heauen's high spheare
to purge from double staine.

Then shall these documents divine,
By which thy crosses fruits do shyne,
To happie Life conducting Thyne,
my Thoughts by day, by night,
With meditation deepe consyne:
At morne, midday, my weake engyne,
While Heaven's clear Torch his course decline
shall in thy praise delight.

Sonne, with thy Syre in

Ioh. 1. 12.

yeares, in might,
In all

Phil. 26. 15.

co-equall:

Ro. 11. 33.

man's dimme sight
Transcending:

Heb. 1. 3. Col.1. 6-67.

like thy paterne bright
An Other, and the Same:
True God of God, mild

Matt. 1. 16. 1.

Maid-borne wight,
Blest

Gen. 28. 11.

Ladder, reaching earth aright,
Co-apting things of greatest hight
with lowe: Light's glorious beame.

Safetie of Soules, Sight of the blinde,
Haven, where the shipwrakt shelter finde,
End of all toyles, Ease of the minde,
press'd downe with sinfull loade;
Reward of works due in no kinde
To conflict past, the Palme assignde,
Soules' cure, with sin's sore sicknesse pynde,
the banisht man's aboade.

149

Blest

Gen. 9. 14.

bow, bepaynting azure aire,
Thy pledge who did the World repaire;

Gen. 6. 14.

Arke, rendring Thine secure from care
of ouerflowing floods;
Their Crowne that sight, their pryze most rare
That sum: earth's peace, heauen's joy, hell's feare;
A saving

1 Cor. 10. 4.

Rock to thine, a

1 Cor. 12. 3.

snare
to such as sinne secludes.

Luc. 2. 32.

Israel's glory,

Luc. 10.

Gentiles' light,
Summe of the father's wisht-for sight,
Of Paradise the deare delight,
eternall Tree of life;
On source which watering day and night,
In foure cleare streames divided right,
Preserues, from yeares, from dayes despight,
but arte, or gardner's knife.

The

Rom. 10. 4.

Lawes, the

Act. 10. 40.

Prophet's scope, who shew
Thy face when Thou the

2 Cor. 3. 14.

vaile withdrew;
Of Types, of

Col. 2. 17.

Shads, the body true;

Io. 1. 36.

Lambe,

Heb. 13. 10.

Altar,

Heb. 2. 17.

Priest at ones;

Rev. 13. 8.

Lambe, kild before the World's first view;
Altar, which sinne inherent slew;
Priest, who in man did grace renew,
mounting alone

Heb. 9. 24.

heauen's Thrones.

I sing my

Heb. 9. 15.

Mediator's praise,
Whose hand o're all the scepter swayes;
Who

Col. 1. 20.

Angel's fall did stint, yet stayes;

1 Cor. 1. 30.

man falne did raise againe.
Who filde the breach by wondrous wayes
Of Heauen's proud Apostats, hell's preyes,
Earthlings adornde with Angells' rayes,
'mongst the immortall traine:

150

But say, (sweet Iesu,) what procurde
Thee, in a

Phil. 2. 7.

servant's shape immurde,
To pittie man in sinne obdurde,
God's rebell to beefriend?
To pleade for him who thee abjurde,
Suffring thy Godhead lurke obscurde,
Last, on the

Phil. 2. 8.

Tree, (O Tears!) indurde
an ignominious end?

Tim. 1. 15.

Else perisht had the World for aye,

Col. 1. 20.

No other Meanes God's wrath could lay,

Rom. 6. 4.

None else, could, (working death's decay,)
Man's Image first, infuse.

Gal. 3. 13.

None else, Law's paine severe could pay;
Heauen's walls to scale no other way;

Rom. 8. 11.

To vernish fresh graues rotten prey,
Means Thou alone couldst vse.

Without thee Lord, supremely blest,

Phil. 2. 9, 10, 11.

Whom highest honour doth invest,

Esay 53. 7, 10.

For Man with paines extremly prest
by spoyles of conquer'd Hell,
Heaven's glorious courts had neere encrest:
Nor should our fleshes loade, to rest
Aboue the Spheares, its selfe addrest,
'midst heauen's blest hosts to dwell.

Hence sprang Man's ease exyling toyle,
His hopelesse groanes, which so did boyle
Thy breast, that Thou pourd'st in the oyle
of Mercie in his wounds.

Esay. 53.

His Plaints procur'd thy soules turmoyle,
That Thou his lot didst take, to foyle
Sinne, Death and Hell, O Glorious spoyle!
which reason's ray confounds.

151

Our guilt's foule shame shame did deface,
Empurp'ring thy vnstained face;
Thy clouds, thy care, our light, our peace,
Our Victorie thy listes;
Thy hels in heauen procurde vs place,
Our honour grew by thy disgrace;
O Wisedome! if not found by grace,
Man's wit involves in mists.

O Sauing Knowledge! which of right

1 Cor. 1. 21.

The deepest Polititan's sight
Oresyles, drownde in eternall night,
Jn clowdes of self-conceate!
O contrares! which by nature fight,
Thus reconcil'de, mix'd by thy might,
Things weightie ballancing with light,
O change! O wonders great!

Thy dumpes our doolefull hearts did cheare;
Our teare-blind sights thy teares did cleare;
Thy deepe afflictions calmde our feare;
Thy bands vs fred from paine.

2 Cor. 8. 9.

Thy wants our wealth procur'de; we weare
Roabs by thy rags; grieves thou didst beare,
Our greifes, our languishings en-deare,
thy blood did ours restraine.

Luc. 2. 44.

That crimson sweat, these drops which drownd
Thy blessed face, with rayes ours crownde;

Rev. 5.

Sin's leprous spots, which soules confound,
from Parents' seede they purgde.
Thou, shak'd by death's approaching wound,
'gainst death mad'st vs secure be found,
Thou of our innocence the ground,
for vs, with guilt was vrgde.

152

Mat. 27. 46.

And when thou seemde some space to bee
Depriv'de from heauen of all supplie,
Yet banisht Man, still deare to Thee,
Thou neuer didst forsake.
Man's state was still before thine Eye,
Till entring Hell, Thou sett him free,
O

Deut. 23.

Crosse once curst, now happie Tree,
Source whence all good wee take!

When Thou thy selfe triumphde o're sho's,
Nailde to the Crosse, exposde to blo's,
Chargde by thy proud insulting foes
with infamie, with shame;
Torne, naked, pale, a mappe of woes,
Whilst floods of wrath thou vndergoes,
Thy syde trans-fixde, from which forth floes
a

Ioh. 19. 34.

double gushing streame;

Luk. 23. 46.

Thy soule commending to thy Syre,
While twixt two

Luk. 23. 39.

Theeues Thou didst expire;

Col. 2. 15.

Loe! then enlarging thine Jmpire,
Thy foes Thou Captiues led;
Triumphing on the Tree, hell's ire,

Hos. 13. 14.

Death's sting, Earth's Kings that did conspire,
Bound, hand and foote, thy wrath's hote fyre
their shame before Thee bred.

Thou ledst, (great Victor,) foylde in fight,
Those

Hab. 2. 14.

bands, in darknesse that delight;
Roots of man's ruine, foes to right,

Rom. 8. 2.

Sin, bound Thou didst detaine;
To Heauen's high courtes, a glorious sight,
God's Rebells vanquishde by thy might,
Condemnde in chains of horride night,
for euer to remaine.

153

Loe! heere, death's

Cor. 15. 26.

double-poynted sting,

1 Cor. 15. 56.

Law's hand-writ there traverst, (death's spring,)
Trode vnderfoote, in triumph, bring
Thou didst,

Col. 2. 14.

nail'd to thy crosse.
Thee, swallowing vp, (death conqu'ring King,)

1 Cor. 15. 55.

Death to it selfe the graue did bring;
On rav'ning Wolfe preyde ravishde thing,
Victorious by losse.

By death insulting held as dead,
Death's death Thou was, and death's remeed.

Iohn 1. 18.

O! Thou who dost God's secreets spread,
Author, revealer wise,
Heauen's pure delight, the woman's seede,
Who,

Gen. 3. 15.

treading downe the Serpent's head,
To wretched Man didst pittie plead,
Way, leading to the Skyes!

Oh, what had beene our fearefull fate,
Deare soules Redeemer? what our state?
Of ire what hudge, inunding spaite,
had quenchde our of-spring weake?
Without thee, Lord, hell's preys of late,

Col. 1. 1.

Who mongst thy saints didst vs relate,
And mounting heauens with glorie great,
deathes brazen barres didst breake?

Who saues vs in the day of ire,
When all shall be refinde with fire?
Who with thy Sp'rit dost vs inspire,

2 Cor. 5. 5.

Arls of eternall Life?
Thy Sp'rit of peace, our pledge, our hyre,

Eph.1. 13, 14.

Who, all vnites of thy empire
To Thee, our Head, our soules desire,
for ever shunning strife.

154

His seuen-fold grace doth vs defend
From snares; the World, the flesh forth send;
From Fiends infernall, which doe bend
theirs pow'rs 'gainst Thine, by night;
Which flie like

Psal. 91. 5, 6.

pestes by day; in end
On winges, with faith and hope empen'd,
Heauen's starrie circuits wee transcend,
by vertue of his might.

Hee, who eternallie foorth came,
With Father and with Sonne, the Same
Third

1 Ioh. 5. 8.

branch, joynd with that twofold stream,

Rom. 8. 16.

witnesse on earth to beare:
By him confirmde, wee

Eph. 2. 18.

accesse claime
To God's hie Throne: with feare and shame
Brought low, by him wee doe proclaime,

Rom. 8. 15.

Abba, O Father deare!

Rom. 8. 26.

He, sending vp a secreet grone,
Doth penetrat God's eares anone;
No wordes, no cryes can reach his throne,
nor speedier pierce the skies:
He doth vnsyle the eyes alone
Of soules sincere, to them is showne
The lawes hid sense: Hee doth enthrone
the lowe; the proud despise.

Soules languishing his grace revives;
To wandring steps hee regresse gives;
The falne liftes vp, deathes throe's relieues,
by warme light of his flame.
The hardest heart of flint he reaves;
For subjects, Rebells home receiues;
Subdues the stubburne, that believes
no hardnesse breedes him shame.

155

Ev'n as perfumes, which most excell,
Worke on weake sents, and doe dispell
All former loathings: So befell
Thy Saints, the Virgines deare:

Cant. 1. 23.

How soone thy Name's sweet fragrant smell
Was powred foorth, all prostrate fell,
Who gainst Thee did before rebell,
Thy yoke now gladly beare.

O! let this dewy showre descend,
Of thy sweet Oyle, that We in end
That Rocke of safetie may ascend
admitting no retreat.
Conduct vs who on thee depend,
(

Col. 3. 4.

Life-giuing essence,) vs defend,
Who here our days in dangers spend,
which vs each moment meete.

Lead vs, poore Pilgrims vnexpert,
Our Compasse, Pilote, Pole, who art,
Through this inhospitall desert,
this vaile of bitter teares,
Where perill lurkes in euerie part,
Where Asps their poys'nous stings forth dart,
Whose plaines no pleasures else impart,
but scrotching drought and feares.

Esay. 55. 1.

Lead vs, those rivers to frequent,
Where milke and honey yeelds content.
O! euer blesse, with good event,
the wrestlings of thine owne,
Till, comming in the firmament,
Unlookt for by earth's trembling tent,
When time's last

Rev. 10. 16.

Period shall bee spent,
Thy glory thou make knowne.

156

That Day shall rest

Rev. 6. 14.

Heauen's rolling spheares,
Earth's refluous tumults, deathes pale feares,

Rev. 22. 5.

O day, which neuer night outweares,
Night, by no day displac't!
Then, to the source flood's course reteires,
Time lurking then, no more appears,
Hid in the vast abysse of yeares,
from whence it first did haste.

Rev. 21. 4.

O day, which doth all blesse impart
To all, who vpright are in heart!

Rev. 21. 8.

O day of horrour, full of smart,
to all of sprite impure!

Rev. 21. 4.

Day, which shall sobs of saints convert
In songes of Joy! Day which shall dart
Wrath on the wretcht, who then shall start
wak'd from their sleepe secure!

Mat. 24. 31.

That Trumpet's terrifying sound,
That day, their ears, their souls, shall wound,
In sin's deepe Lethargie long drownde,
to heare a fearefull doome;
Whose noise, whose murmurings profound
Shall call, whate're earth's limits bound,

Rev. 20. 13.

Or who in floods o'rewhelmde are found,
hid in the Ocean's wombe.

Thess. 4. 16. 17.

Who cheard are with the World's bright Eye,
Jnvest'd yet with mortalitie,
Or whose dead ashes scattered flie,
dispersde through earth or aire;
This dayes sharpe tryall all must see,
If entered once lifes miserie,
Yea, babes, which scarce yet breathing bee,
must at this sound appeare.

157

2 Thes. 1. 8.

When flammes shall furiously confound,
Lightning thy glorious Throne around,
Whate're shall bee their object found,
in this inferiour Frame,
Shaking the World, ev'n to the ground,
Razde from its center, laid profound,
Dissolving what earth's fabricke crownde
with greatest Arte, or fame;

Mark 13. 24.

The Sun's cleare beames clouds shall enfold,

Rev. 6. 13.

Starres losse their light, (earth's pride controld,)
What Earthlings did most precious hold,

2 Pet. 3. 10.

records of wit, of strength,

2 Pet. 3. 10.

Shall with this monument's rare mold
More quicklie melt than can bee told,
All this great All shall, (as of old,)
a Chaos turne at length.

Esay. 19. 20.

Then when the screiches, and frightfull cryes
Or such, God's wrath as vnderlyes,
Encrease the noise of rushing skies,
of earthes disjoynted frame,

Mat. 25. 22.

Hee makes divorce that's only wise;
The damned goates hee doth despise;
Poynts out his lambes,

Rev. 7. 14.

whose sinfull dyes
hee purgde with bloody streame.

Rev. 7. 9.

When blessed soules shall, fred of feare,
Thy Throne encircling, Thee draw neare,
As dayes comforting Beame, the spheare,
the Orbe of purest heauen;
The clouds transcending,

Rev. 11. 12.

shining cleare,

Rev. 14. 14.

Thy footsteps streatched foorth to beare,
Those trembling bands shall streight reteare,
downe to the Center driven.

158

Trembling to heare the thundring noise
Of thy three-forked fearefull voyce,
Which streight their soules with sad annoyes,
with terrours strange shall pierce:

Mat. 25. 41.

Hence, hence yee cursed! hell's convoyes,
Who of this Portion earst made choyse,
In chaines of darknesse end your Joyes,
amidst hell's furyes fierce.

Goe curst for aye, exylde from light,
From hope, from

Rev. 14. 12.

rest, from all delight,
Where wormes ne're dying, wrath and spight,

Matt. 25. 20.

gnashing of teeth, and teares.
O! then, what horrour, what affright
Shall on those hopelesse prisners light,
Debarrde eternally his sight
who on the Throne appeares.

Rev. 5. 9.

Deare World's Redeemer! let thy bloode,
Mee, from this multitude seclude,
Affraide to see the raging flood,
of thy vnbounded ire:
Grant J may 'mongst thy

Matt. 5. 8.

blessed broode
Surfet vpon that heauenly foode
Of thy sweet face; the chiefest goode
Thyne haue, or can desire.

That life which did thy bandes releiue,
When laide in graue,

Rom. 8. 11.

may mee revive,
Raisde from deathes Jayle with thee to liue,
eternally above,
Joyes more than mortalls can belieue,
Contents, which thou alone canst giue,
Hid treasures, which no wrong can reave,
enjoying of thy loue.

159

Cloyde with delights, with dainties rare
With which heauen's tables charged are,

1 Cor. 2. 9.

Which man's weake Eye, amazed Eare
nor Heart, can right conceave,
Things hid by his eternall care,
Who doth them for his Saintes prepare,
Who, gaining him, the fairest faire,
they All in all things have.

1 Cor. 15. 24.

When conquring life hath death subdued,
This World's false

Rev. 21. 1.

shew our sight eschued,
Whose face and countenance renewde
shall more delightfull seeme,
Thou, who with grace thy Saintes indued,
Whose shield them from this wrath rescued,
Transport mee thither, all bedewed
with blood did mee redeeme.

Rev. 22. 16.

Bright Starre—illightning darkest night,
Attractive loadstone, full of might,
Jnflamt by thy transpeircing sight,
there draw my heatlesse heart;
Winge my desires, that raisde on hight,

Rev. 21. 4.

I may arriue by heauenly flight
There, where's no feare of ill, no spight,
but blesse, without desart.

Where J, thy praises may make knowne,
Three vndivided Trinall One!
Joynde with thy Saynts about thy Throne,
in hymnes not made by Men.
Grant this sweet Sauiour, Thou alone
Crowne these desires, here to Thee showne,
As to its end this raptur's flowne,
Sweet Jesu, say Amen.

Μουνω δοξα Θεω.

Finis.

161

Doomesday

containing Hells horrour and Heavens happinesse

163

But now, my Sprite refresht a space,
Forbearing pressed steppes to trace,
Aspires aboue the vulgar prease,
to raise a second flight.
I feele my bosome, peece and peece,
Warmde with vnusuall flammes: Giue place
Eare-charming fancies, Artes disgrace,
affoording false delight.

Thoughts, which aboue the spheares inclyne,
Wings, furnish to my weake engine,
If Thou, O Lord, the

2 Sam. 22. 3.

Horne of Thine
in mee, this Rapture wrought.
Bee present by thy power divine,
Grant in my lines thy might may shyne,
From drosse of sinne my sprite refine,
raise from the earth my thought.

164

But why thus pants thou in my breast
Affrighted soule, deprivde of rest?
What sudden feares thy joyes molest?
what jarres disturbe thy peace?
Why tremblest thou, with terrours prest,
To heare that fearefull doome exprest
By that great Judge, who euer blest,
is just, as full of grace?

Heere pause a space, (My Soule,) acquent
Thy selfe this judgement to prevent:
No moment of our time is spent,
which thither doth not lead.
The dangers seene which doe torment
Thy troubled mind with discontent,
Gainst them let fervent sutes be sent,
Immunitie to plead.

Haste, haste my Soule, shake off delay,
Which too much of thy time makes prey.
Lay vp provision for that Day
there boldlie to arriue,
Where Reprobats, accurst for aye,
Shall wish in vaine their lifes decay,
That earth would to their soules make way,
them swallowing vp aliue.

Oh! what encounter sad shall bee
Twixt soules from darknesse chaines set free,
And bodies, mates in miserie,
calde foorth to bee combynd,
Not for reciprocall supplie,
As friends new joynde in amitie,
But neuer dying, aye to die,
in quenchlesse flammes confynde.

165

Death's loathsome den, detested Jayle,
Scout, following sin with stretched sayle,
Which fleeting froaths, which pleasures fraile,
on Rocke of shipwrack led.
Maske of mischiefe, sin's slender vaile,
Good Motions euer bent to quaile,
Which in the birth thou didst assaile,
them burying as they bred.

Wretch, who to pamper dust didst doate,
Whom Hell attends with open throate,
Readie to retribute the lote
to thy deservings due.
Oh! what hath violate death's knot,
That still in graue thou didst not rot,
Masse overspred with sin's foule spot,
raisde anguish to renue.

Thus, (too, too late,) the Soule shall rayle;
Re-entring this abhorred Iayle,
Which recombyned, while both bevaile
Life's misgoverned raines.
Then Angels shall to Judgement haile,
There, whence no party can appeale,
To heare deathe's sentence countervaile,
Lyfe's Ioyes, with endlesse paines.

O wretch! who Judgement heere delayes,
Whom false securitie betrayes,
Who ne're thy Sins' blacke summe surveyes,
which future anguish breedes.
Then shall the Auncient of dayes,
Who all men's works in ballance layes,
Examine all thy wordes, thy wayes,
thy thoughts, thy foule misdeeds.

166

None shall this search seuere eschew,
From bookes laide open to the view
A summar processe shall ensew,
conforme to thy trespasse.
Thy sins all summond, Thee which slew,
Approving thy damnation due,
When all the blest cœlestiall crew
shall on thee verdict passe.

Thou, who to lewdnesse now art prone,
What shame, what smart, (lif's pleasures gone,)
Shall on thee seaze, when gazde vpon
By earth, by angrie heauen?
When naked, comfortlesse, alone,
Thou trembling stands before the Throne,
Under God's wrath, guilt's loade doth grone,
Feares with thy faults made eaven.

When thy tormenting conscience torne,
Thou guiltie stands that Iudge beforne,
Whose Image did thy soule adorne,
who did infuse thy breath.
Who, pittying thee to sin forlorne,
Left heauens, was of an earthling borne,
Liude loth'd, dyde with contempt and scorne,
Emptyed the Cup of wrath.

Witnesse earth trembling at his paines,
Dayes beame, which all in clouds detaines,
The silver Moone, which pale remaines,
For horrour of the sight.
Witnesse his hands, with bleeding veines,
Of this great All which holds the raines,
His side pierc't through to purge thy staines,
Polluted sinfull wight.

167

Where shall thou then safe shelter finde
Soule, than the sightlesse Mole more blinde,
When with those straits extreame confynd,
Faint, pale, confusde thou stands?
By doome which cannot bee declinde,
Adjugde for euer to be pinde,
Where day nere dawnde, Sunne neuer shinde,
Mongst the infernall bands.

Where tears no truce, playnts find no place,
On either hand in desp'rate cace,
Behinde thee, who thy pathes did trace,
Attend thy woefull lote.
Before thee, flamms Earth's frame deface,
Aboue, an angrie Judge's face,
Below, Thee gaping to embrace,
Hell's sulphure-smoking throat.

Thy feares shall be with cryes encrest
Of damned Soules, with anguish prest,
With greife, with horrour vnexprest,
Of due deserved ire.
The fyre-brands of a conscious brest,
Shall of thy terrours not be least,
While worms, which on thy conscience feast,
Thy ceaselesse paine conspire.

But when, (most like a thunder dart,)
That separating doome,

Mat. 25. 41.

Depart,
Pronounc'd, shall pierce thy panting heart,
With a most fearefull knell,
Which shall thee from God's presence part,
Exposde to torments that impart
Nor end of time, nor ease of smart,
While headlongs hurld in hell.

168

Their shalt thou dive in depthes profound,
Still sinke but never meete a ground,
In waves still wrestling to bee drownd,
Deluded still by death;
Crying, where comfort none is found,
Pynde, where no pittie rage doth bound,
Thy Cup with floods of vengeance crownde,
Of the Almightie's wrath;

Bathde in a bottomlesse abisse,
Paine still encressing, ne're remisse,
Where scorpion's sting, where serpent's hisse,
Wormes, neuer satiate, gnaw;
Rackt, thinking what thou was, now is,
Deprivde for aye from hope of blisse,
For toyes, eternall joy didst misse,
Nor crub't by love, nor aw,

No torments doth it selfe extend

Paine of Sense.

Heere all the members to offend,
Which Vniversall griefe doth send,
Doth every part entrinch:
These paines, which reason's reach transcend,
On Soule and body doth descend,
No joynt, nerve, muscle, without end
But sev'rall plagues doe pinch.

Lascivious Eye, with objects light
Which earst did entertaine thy sight,
Weepe, there exylde in endlesse night,
Lockt vp in horride shads.
Nyce Eare, whose Organ earst did spight
All sounds, whence flowde no fals delight,
There, horrour ever and affright,
Thy curious sense vpbraids.

169

Smell, earst with rare perfumes acquent,
Still interchangde to please thy sent,
For incense, sulphure, (there) doth vent,
Smoake for thy odoures sweet.
Taste, vnto which to breed content,
Rob't were the Earth, Sea, Firmament,
'Mongst soules which penurie torment,
There, famine Thee doth meete.

Vile wormeling, Thou whose tender pride,
The weakest sunshine scarce couldst byde,
There, plungde in this impetuous tyde,
Must feele the force of fire.
Where damned soules on every syde,
Howling and roaring still abyde,
Which finde no shelter them to hyde
From this eternall ire.

There, the Ambitious, who in skies
Did, (late,) on wax-joynde winges arise,
Of base contempt is made the pryse,
The Proudling pestred downe.
There Dives, who did earst despise
Of famisht soules the piercing cries,
Shall one cold drop of water pryse
Aboue a Monarche's crowne.

Loe! there the vile, licentious goate,
Whom lawlesse lust did earst besotte,
Enchainde in the embracements hotte
Of furious raging flames.
There, to the drunkard's parched throate,
Justice doth scrotching drought allote,
In floods of fire, which judgde to floate,
Still vaine refreshment claimes.

170

On covetous, on cruell wight,
Shall equall weight of vengeance light
With byting vsurie, with spight,
The poore ones who did presse.
So, to the remnant that did fight
'Gainst heauen's decrees, their conscience light,
God's wrath shall bee proportionde right,
By measure more or lesse.

Soule, which vnpittied ever playnes,

Paine of Losse.

Heere, suff'ring for thy sins' foule staynes,
Flammes, lashing whips, rackes, fyrie chaynes,
Tormenting outward sense.
Of all, most terrible remaines,
Losse of God's face while thou sustaines,
O hell of hell! O paine of paines!
Still to be banisht thence.

But when thou hast as many yeares
Those tortures felt, as shyne in sphears
Lights, fixed and straying, eyes haue teares,
Or waves the azure plaine,
No nearer are their end those feares,
Ever beginning which thou beares,
No change abates, no date outweares
Thy euer pinching paine.

O dying life! O living death!
O stinging fyre, blowne by God's breath!
O boyling lake no ground which hath,
Destroying nought it burnes!
O overflowing flood of wrath,
Which damned soules are drencht beneath!
O pit profound! O woefull path
Whence Entrer ne're returnes!

171

Sweet

Rom. 5. 10.

Reconciler, Prince of peace,
Who pittying man's most wretched cace,
Didst hellish agonies embrace
In soule, in bodie shame,
Let mee in those extreames finde grace,
Illightned by thy glorious face,
Rank't 'mongst thy Saints, the elect race,
Whose wayes Thou didst proclaime!

O! Let me safe protection plead
Unto my soule, which full of dread,
Hanges ouer Hell by life's fraile threed,
Conservde but by thy might;
That when heauens, whence it did proceed,
Its separation haue decreed,
With

Gen. 8. 8.

Noah's Doue, Thou mayst it lead
There, whence it first tooke flight.

Oh, how it longes on winges to rise,
(Secure from sin's contagious dyes,)
Endenizde citizen of skies
With Thee for aye to rest!
O, how it doth the Jayle despise,
In fleshes fetters it which tyes,
And lets it to enjoy the pryse,
With which thy Saints are blest!

For Thee I thirst, O living spring!
Pure source of life, who guides faith's wing,
By flight to reach the hyest thing,
To compasse things most hard.
When shalt Thou mee from danger bring
To Port of peace? my God! my King!
Blest giver, and the gifted thing?
Rewarder, and reward?

172

When shall I, from exile set free,
My native home, my country see?
When one immortal pineons flie?
That holy Citie reach,
Whose streets pure gold, gold buildings bee,
Walls, stones most precious beautifie,

Apoc. 19. 21.

Ports, solide Pearles, Guests neuer die,
Whose peace no paines empeach?

Eternall spring, (shrill Winter gone,)
This climate constant makes alone,
Nor flamming heate, nor frozen Zone
Distemper heere doe breed.
From Lambe's sweet breath, on glorie's throne
Enstalde, are balmie odours throwne,
Time hath no turnes, heere change is none,
No seasons doe succeed.

Pale envy, emulation, spight,
Nor death, nor danger heere affright,
Heere hopes, nor feares, nor false delight,
In sublunarie toyes.

Apoc. 21. 23.

No Lampe dartes foorth alternat light,
The Lambe's sweet face here shines ay bright,
Which of the Saints doth blesse the sight,
Who doe in him rejoyse.

Heere simple beautie scorneth Arte,
Rose-cheeked youth, old age's dart,
Joye's perpetuitie impart,
No warre disturbs this peace.
O! this God's Palace royall arte,
Preparde in these, with all desart,

1 Pet. 1. 20.

For all that vpright are in heart,
Ere light did paynt heaven's face.

173

Thou, by whose pow're the spheares are rold,
Earth's hanging orbe who dost vphold,
Great Architect, King vncontrold,
Lord of this Universe,
Enstalde heere on a Throne of gold,
Dost diamantine scepter hold,
Givest Lawes to earth, hence dost behold
How wights below converse!

If heere, such eye-enchaunting sights,
Amazing beauties, choise delights,
This Mansion low, of dying wights,
Earth's brittle orbe adorne,
What wonders then, what glorious lights,
Must beautifie those reachlesse hights,
Thy blest aboade, which daye's, which night's
Vicissitude doth scorne?

If these such admiration breed,
What Thou, who did'st heauen's Curtain spread,
Earth stayde midst aire, that it doth neede
Its weight nought to sustaine,
Who full of Majestie and dread,
Of intellectuall pow'rs dost plead
Attendance, on thy face which feede?
O ever blessed traine!

Archangels, Angels, clothde with might,
Thrones, Cherubs, Seraphins of light,
Princes and Powers all shining bright,
Dominions, vertues pure,
With beames that sparkle from the sight,
Inflamde, which flie no other flight,
But satiat rest, rapt with delight,
Which doth for aye endure!

174

O sweet societie! how blest
They, who these orders haue encreast,
From labour free, in peace who rest,
Surpassing humane sense?
Where blesse, where glory doth invest
Apostles, Martyres and the rest
Of holy Saints, with tortures prest
To death, in Trueth's defence.

The Patriarchs, Prophets, Lights divine,
(Cleare starres on earth,) bright suns here shine.
Heere all the elect hoast, deathe's line
Which yet haue ouerpast.
Jncorp'rat in their Head, incline
One way, Joyes common all combine,
This band no discord can vntwine,
Loue doth eternall last.

Of glorie 'mongst these bands elect

1 Cor. 4. 6.

Degrees there are, but no defect,
Full vessells all, none can expect
More than the lest containes.

Dan. 12. 3.

Man's heart no pleasure can project,
But greater doth from hence reflect,
One cause in all workes one effect,
Of measure none complaines.

O Joyes! my drossie sprite which wing
Upwards, aboue the spheares to spring,
(Time's Father) where thy praises ring,
Which Saints, which Angels raise:
Where all around Thee in a ring,

Apoc. 9. 1.

Heau'ns hoasts high Allelujahs sing,
O heavenly consort! Blessed King!
Blest people, Thee who praise!

175

No woefull earth-confined wight,
With owlish eyes can view this light,
The meake horizon of Man's sight,
Farre, farre which doth outreach.
This vnexpressible delight,
Doth reason's dazelde eye benight,
What I cannot conceiue aright,
Lord, let experience teach!

Give mee, that in some measure small
(While fleshe's bands my sprite enthrall)
J may, a farre, a glance let fall,
At these contentments poynt,
These termlesse Joyes which, (one day,) shall
In honny turne Saints' bitter gall,
From guilt, when flamms shall purge this Ball,
This Engine hudge disjoynt.

When the Arch-angel's voice shall raise

1 Cor. 15. 52.

The graues pale guests, the World amaze,
Around all burning in a blaze,

1 Thes. 4. 16.

Suffring for man's offence,
What Joyes, then, sleeping Saints shall seaze,
How much this long-longde sight them please,
This sight, death's fetters which shall ease,
All passed cares compense?

O what a happie houre! how deare,
How glorious shall this day appeare
To thee my Soule, when fred from feare,
Grimme death thou darst outface?
When, (thy redemption drawing neare,)

Luke 21. 28.

Life's toyles shall trophees to Thee reare,
Which cank'ring Tyme shall ne'er outweare,
Nor foes' despight deface.

176

Though tyrants haue, by doome vnjust,
In furious flammes thy carcase thrust,
Not daigning It to earth to trust
With honour of a graue.
No Atome of thy scattered dust
But see this solemne Meeting must,
Purgde from corruption, from rust
Of sinne did It depraue;

Thy shape renewde, more glorious made
Than when it entred deathes darke shade,
Raisde by his viuifying aide,
Death's powres who did controule;
With flesh adornde, which ne're shall fade,
Nor rotte, in earthe's cold bosome laide,
But liue for aye, the Mansion glade
Of a Triumphing soule.

No beautie nature brought to light
Did ravish most amazed sight,
Which, as farre short from day as night
From This, shall not be found,
Which shall adorne each new-borne wight,
Co-partner of this hid delight,
The lame shall leape, proportionde right,
The dumbe God's praises sound,

Esay 35. 6.

Caught vp, when on immortall wings,

1 Thes. 14. 17.

To aire this stage which ouerhings,

1 Cor. 6. 2.

To meete thy Head, the Saints who brings
To judge the damned traine.
(Saints, earst accounted abject things,
Objects of scorne, weake underlings,
On thrones enstalde, now sceptred kings
Eternally who reigne.)

Apoc. 10

177

What bands enclustred thee around,
Shall make the Heauens with hymnes rebound,
That Thou, a straggling sheepe, art found,
Their numbers to encrease?

Luk. 15. 71.

If they did such applauses sound
At thy conversion, how profound
Shall be their Joyes to see thee crownd,
With them to acquiesse?

As pansiue Pilgrime, sore distrest,
Wearie and weake, with famine prest,
Whom feare of Robbers doth infest,
Straying alone, in need,
If Hee, while dreaming least of rest,
Should in an instant bee addrest,
Where hee might live for ever blest,
How should his Joyes exceed?

Even so my Soule, (now on the way,)
Too easily seduc't astray,
When Thou shalt find this solide stay,
This Center of repose,
How shall the pleasures of this day,
Adorning Thee with rich array,
Thy suffred labours all delay,
Afflictions all compose?

What boundlesse Ocean of delight
Shall quench all paines, all passed plight,
Endured wrongs, digested spight
Of tyrannizing pride,
By Angels, Messengers of light,
When brought in thy Redeemer's sight,

Mat. 14. 3.

Set free from deathe's eternall night,
Adjudg't, in blesse to byde?

178

When large Memorials shall record

Mat. 25. 34. 35. 36.

The meanest good thou didst afford,
To poore, to sicke: when deed, nor word,
Shall want the owne rewarde?
The Judge, thy Advocate, thy Lord,

1 Ioh. 2. 1.

Who now absolues, Thee, first restorde:
O bond! O double-twisted cord!
O vndeserved regard!

But O! when Thou casts back thine eyes,
Thy voyage dangerous espyes,
Foes and ambushments, laide to surprise
Thy wayes, when thou dost vieu;
The traines set foorth Thee to entise,
Base pleasures, which Thou didst despise,
What boundlesse joyes shall thence arise,
What Solace sweet ensue?

What strange applauses thence shall spring,
When Saints doe shout, when Angels sing,
When Heauen's hie vaults loud Ecchos ring,
Of that Absoluing voyce?
Come yee, whose faith did vpwards spring,
Contempt who on the World did fling,
Blest of that great Sky-ruling King,
Enter in endlesse Ioyes.

O Joyes, with these as farre vn-even,
To Man which to conceiue are given,
As loftiest of the Planets seven
Earth's Center doth transcend!

Gen. 3. 24.

(By wit, who prease to pry in heauen,
Backe by a Cherubin is driven,)
Man's Reason is a vessell riven,
Can litle comprehend.

179

O Joyes, as much bedazling sight,
As day's bright Beam the weakest light,
Aboue small Gnats as Eagles' flight
Amidst the Clouds ensphearde!
Ioyes, as farre passing all delight
Yet euer heard by humane wight,
As ghastly screiches of Owles which fright,
With Larks' sweet layes comparde!

These boundlesse Joyes, this endlese peace,

1 Cor. 13. 12.

In this claims principally place,
To see God clearely, face to face,
Him, as He is, to view.

1 Joh. 3. 2.

(Not heere, as doth fraile Adam's race,
Who through a glasse this sight embrace,
And steps of things created trace,
To reach these pleasures trew.)

With Judgement pure, to know, as knowne,
These Persons three, in essence One,
God varying in names alone,
Father, Sonne, holy Ghost.
To know why Man, to lewdnesse prone,
(Angels o'repast) God did repone
In state of grace, why mercy showne
To some while damnde are Most.

Which Joyes, on all the Saints elect,
On Soules and bodies both reflect,
By ravishing the Intellect,
The Memory and Will;
Which all the Senses doe affect,
With pleasures farre aboue defect,
Who can the rich contents detect,
Those blessed Bands which fill?

180

How more perspectiue, pure and free,
(Sequestred from mortalitie,)
The Understanding facultie,
How prompter it perceiues!
How more sublime the Object bee,
The Union inward and more nie:
Joyes of a more supreme degrie
The Intellect conceaues!

Here charg'd with chains of flesh and bloode,
We apprehend by Organs roode,
The drossie mindes of Earth's weake broode
Imaginde knowledge swells:
There, bathing in a boundlesse floode
Of blesse, we shall, (as sprites which stoode)
Know, (vnpuft vp) our Soueraigne goode,
In him, all creatures els.

What object can, in greatnesse, hight,
In glorie, majestie, in might,
This paralell, whence all delight,
All pleasure only springs?
With rayes of vncreated light
Which cherish, not offend the sight,
Who shines most blest, for euer bright,
Eternall King of Kings.

What Union can so strict bee found,
So firme, successionlesse, profound?
Man's deepest speculation drown'd
Is in this vast abisse.
This gulfe, this Ocean without ground,
The ravisht minde doth wholly bound,
It drencht heerein, with glorie crownd,
Bathes in a Sea of blesse.

181

If charming sounds, ensnaring sights,
In mindes of wonder-strucken wights,
Doe moue such violent delights
As passe the bounds of speach,
The Joyes then midst these reachlesse hights,
Ay bright with euer-burning lights,
Must farre transcend the loftiest flights,
Wits most profound can reach.

The fluide Joyes which here entise,
From things corruptible arise,
No Union, but externall, ties
The sense and object fraile.
How should wee then these pleasures prise,
Which euer laste aboue the skies?
This Union strict all change defies,
This bonde can neuer faile.

What superexcellent degrees
Of Ioy, the Intellect shall seaze,
When It, with cleare, vnsyled eyes,
The speces, natures, strength,
Of beastes, of birds, of stones, of trees,
Of hearbes, the hid proprieties,
Th' essentiall differences sees
Of Creatures all at length?

Of Ioy, what ouerflowing spaite,
Inunding this Theater great,
Drench with delight shall euery state
Here marshalled above?
Till now, euen from the World's first date,
When Saints secure from sin's deceate,
Their Palmes, their Crownes receiue, who late

2 Tim. 4. 8.

Earth's vtmost spight did prove.

182

Nor shall the knowledge of the paine,
The torments which the damn'd sustain,
The cryms which earst their soules did staine,
Impare these joyes divine!
These blacke Characters show most plaine
God's justice, their deserved bane,
The brightnesse of the blessed traine
Opposde, now cleare doth shine.

Their Vengeance shall the Just rejoyse,
(Heaven's blesse comparde with hel's annoyes,)
As earst by regal Prophet's voice,
Divinely was fore-told.
Saintes should, incompassed with Joys,

Psalm 58. 10.

Bathe in their blood, whom death destroyes,
Happie, who so his life employes
'Mongst Saints to bee enrold.

Heere oft, (with wonder rapt) wee find,
The punishment with vertuous minde,
The fault with the rewarde combinde,
At which the Just repines.
There, fault with punishment confinde,
Rewarde, to vertuously inclinde,
Eternall justice vndeclinde,
Impartially assignes.

As these and more joyes vnexprest,
The Understanding doe invest,
As in the Center of its rest,
So heere, the Will doth pause
In peace, which cannot bee encrest,
Not wrestling passions to digest;
O calme tranquillitie! how blest
They whom this loadstone drawes.

183

Hence spring such ardent flammes of loue
To God, to all the Saints aboue,
That not one ioy these hoasts do proue
Which It doe not delight.
Hence It no fewer joyes doe moue,
Then God, Co-partners doth approue,
Joyes infinite, which ne're remoue,
Nor weakned are by slight.

As soules, which horride shads enchaine,
This doe not feele their meanest paine,
With mates most hated to remaine
For ay, by just decreite:
How happie then, this glorious traine,
With these eternally to raigne,
Who mutuall loue doe entertaine,
Insep'rable vnite!

From thence a quiet, calme Content,
A sympathizing sweet concent,
Satietie, which vnacquent
With loathing, doth arise.
Man heere in earth's ignoble tent,
Desires vnbounded still torment,
The more hee hath, the more is bent,
Things fading to comprise.

O soule! which life doth heere expose
To inward feares, to outward foes,
Deluded by deceaving shows,
With shads of seeming blesse,
When with content thy Cup oreflows,
When hopes nor vast desires thou knowes,
How deare shall bee this sweet repose
Which aye beginning is!

184

O Peace! on which all hap depends,
Man's vnderstanding which transcends,
To Thee alone our labour tends,
Our Pilgrimage aspires.
Happie in Thee his life who spends,
In Joy, in peace which never ends,
To present Toyles which solace sends,
Encentring our desires.

By perfect Justice, what excesse
Of Joy shall to the Will accresse,
Out-shining Adam's righteousnesse
In innocent estate?
(But O! this Joy who can expresse?
Not tongues of angels, Man's much lesse,
O ravisht Soule! heere acquiesse,
Drencht in this Ocean great.)

His Reason, Adam's sense and will
Did serve this God; but changeable
Was this submission; now, but still
All doe themselves subject
To God; by bonde most durable,
Fearing no fall, secure from ill,
Rendring the soule most am'able
To God, selfe, Saints elect.

O soule dejected, plungde in feare,
Which stinging thoughts, mind's horrors teare,
Thy wounded sprite who canst not beare,
With inward terrours torne!
O how invaluable, how deare,
Would this integritie sincere
To Thee, (in conscience rackt) appeare,
Which doth the saints adorne!

185

This innocence which doth exclude
All spots, polluting earth's fraile broode,
Pure, vndistainde, perfectly good,
Free from least sinfull thought:
Saintes aye refreshing with that food
Of God's wingde messengers, which stood
Confirmde in grace by purple floode,
Which Man's redemption wrought.

Nor shall lesse measure of content
To Memory of Saints present,
How life's small period heere was spent,
Encompassed with cares.
From warres most pittifull event
If settled, sweetest peace is spent,
The Soule, which earst did most lament,
Joyes most, now fred of teares.

Of passed fight the doubtsome [fate]
The souldier doth with joye relate.
The sea-tosde wight, in dangers great,
If gone, most pleasure finds.
Past miseries inunding spaite
Most sweetens Saint's triumphing state,
Foes spoyles, which no invasion threat,
Lesse ravish noble Minds.

From passions fred, for happiest lote
Their purest parts which did bespotte,
Strugling, as exhalations hote
In humide clouds inclosde;
From flight of dartes, the World foorth shot,
(Entisements which the best besotte,)
While these in their remembrance float,
How much are they rejoysde?

186

Revoluing in this calmest peace,
How God, by his preventing grace,
Our steps restrainde, whilst we did trace
The tempting paths of death;
Of monstruous Sinnes in hottest chace,
How Hee in loue did us embrace;
In this to joye, Saints ne'ere shall cease,
While they in blesse doe breath.

The long vicissitude of years,
Of Times, the Memory endeares,
Since World's first Age, aboue the spheares,
Of blest celestiall bands.
Which, while this Companie admires,
Cause of these changes, cleare appeares
In Prouidence large book, which beares
Records of Seas, of Lands.

In this great Volumne read they shall
Why Angels first, first Man did fall,
Why God did this, nor These recall,
Of his eternall grace.
Why Hee did Abram's seede enstall,
Peculiar most of nations all,
And why to, Gentiles, these made thrall,
Were planted in their place.

In these great Archives scrold is found
Why dearest Saints are trode to ground
By Tyrant's pryde, to which no bound
Oft is below assignde.
To wit, more glorious to bee crown'd,
As their affection did abound,
Joyes may proportionall redound,
As crosses them confinde.

187

Nor shall the Bodie, now all bright,

Mat. 12. 43.

The fellow souldier of the spright,
Bee frustrat of these Joyes, by right
Of its redemption due.
Of all, the noblest sense, the sight
Impassible, not harmde by light,
Aboue all measure shall delight,
Amazde with wonders new.

How shall the ravisht Eye admire

Mat. 13. 43.

When Suns past number doe appeare?
Dark'ning that sparke, our hemispheare,
Which cleeres with chearefull rayes?
On all hands, Nought, when farre and neare,
Encounters sight but objects cleare,
Blest Empyrean bands, which weare
Crowns, Palmes, immortall bayes?

How shall this Beautie vs amaze?
How on this glorie shall wee gaze?
How on our bodies, which doe blaze
With brightest beames of light?
Our bodies, which ere death did seaze,
(Death, which no prayers can appease)
Most loathsome burthens were to these
Whom most they now delight.

What breast can bound this joye's full spaite,
To see falne Angels' chayrs of state
Filde with our friends, familiars late,
Love long dissolvde, renewde?
To see, to know, (O wonder great!)
Saints all, all times did heere relate,
Since Abel's blood, (a long long date,)
His brother's hands imbrued?

Gen. 4. 8.

188

By force of flammes which all subdue,
When broght to nought this world's false shew,
Of Heauen, of earth, the fabricke new

2 Pet. 3. 13.

What wonders shall afford?
Things which before wee never knew,

Rev. 19. 2.

Charming our euer-gazing view,
With pleasures endlesse, perfect, true,
Which tongue cannot record.

But none of all these objects rare,
Can with thy sight, O Christ, compare.
Fulnesse of Joy reflecteth there
On these at thy right hand.
In Righteousnesse thy face preclare

Psal. 17. 15.

Who viewing satisfied are,
For which a place Thou didst prepare
Before Thy throne to stand.

If that great Herauld of Heaun's King,
Record of Thee sent foorth to bring,
For Joy, did in thy presence spring,
An Embrion yet vnborne.
If yet a babe, thy sight benigne
So Simeon's soule with joy did sting,
That hee his Obsequies did sing,
With age and weaknesse worne.

If Easterne Sages spar'de no paine,
By Pilgrims' toyles, thy sight to gaine,
An infant, borne but to bee slaine,
In manger meanlie laide;
What soule then can these joyes containe
Which shall arise to see Thy raigne,
The glory of thy heauenlie traine,
Whose pompe shall never fade?

189

But O! (Mee thinkes) of heavenly layes
A consort sweet my sense betrayes,
By organs of mine Eare, allayes
All mind-remording cares.
Aboue time, motion, place, which raise
My ravisht thoughts, to heare his praise
Proclaimde which heauen's blest hosts amaze,
By notes of Angels' ayres.

O harmony transcending Arte!
Of which the hopes ease present smart;
Thrise happie they who beare a part
In this cœlestiall Quire.
O blest Musitians most expert,
Whose Ditties all delight impart,
Whose hymnes exhilarate the heart,
And entertaine the Eare!

Of Ambrosie, of Nectar, streames,
(Heaven's dainties hid in heathnish names,)
An endlesse feast the Lambe proclaimes,
To all the Saints above.
The Saints refresht more with his beames
Then worldlings with vaine pleasures dreams,
O how desiderable seemes
To Thine, this feast of Love!

If beggars vile themselves hold grac't,
At tables of great Kings to feast,
With curious cates to please their taste,
With choise of rarest things:
O! what a heavenly sweet repast
Doe Saints enjoy, which aye shall last,
Who at immortall Tables plac't,
Feast with the King of Kings.

190

Of all these Millions which frequent
This Paradise of sweet content,
Perfumes most rare refresh the sent,
From a perpetuall spring.
Comforting oynments odours vent,
Sweet'ning the heauens' transparent tent,
Which flow from him his blood who spent
His to blesse to bring.

Which, (as in smell, taste, hearing, sight,)
In feeling als enjoy delight,
The Body changde, spirituall light,
Apt euery way to moue;
Nimble, as thought, to reach by flight,
(Unwearied,) heauen's supremest hight,
The Center low, from Zenith bright,
As It the Minde doth move.

By Motion swift, heere, Bodies tost,
If thus endangered to bee lost,
The feeling sense, affected most
Participats most paine:
What Joyes (to view this numbrous host)
The Elementar regions crost,
When both vnharm'd throgh heauen's way post,
Shall then this sense sustaine?

If Spasmes, if Palsies pincing throes,
If Colick paines invade, (health's foes,)
These torments Feeling vndergoes,
Most sensible of griefe,
Now when sequestred from those woes,
Which marre lifes vnsecure repose,
How shall this sense, set free, rejoyse,
Exult at its reliefe?

191

But euen as one, (more bold than wise,)
A Pilgrimage doth enterpryse,
O're Atlas' tops, which hid in skies,
Crownde are with Winter glasse:
Hudge Mountains past while hee espyes,
Impenetrable Rockes arise,
Forc't to retire, his course applyes
By smoother paths to passe.

So, while aboue the Spheares I prease,
Steps not by Nature reacht, to trace,
The clowds to climbe with halting pace
Lets infinite impeach.
Those reachlesse Ioyes, this boundlesse peace,
In number, measure, weight, encrease:
That scarce begunne, my song must cease,
These hights transcend my reach.

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