Thalia Rediviva The Pass-times and Diversions of a Countrey-muse, In Choice Poems on several Occasions. With Some Learned Remains of the Eminent Eugenius Philalethes. Never made Publick till now [by Henry Vaughan] |
 |
|
| 1. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
|
The Eagle
|
|
|
 | Thalia Rediviva |  |
The Eagle
'Tis madness sure; And I am in the Fitt,
To dare an Eagle with my unfledg'd witt.
For what did ever Rome or Athens sing
In all their Lines, as loftie as his wing?
He that an Eagles Powers would rehearse
Should with his plumes first feather all his Verse.
To dare an Eagle with my unfledg'd witt.
For what did ever Rome or Athens sing
In all their Lines, as loftie as his wing?
He that an Eagles Powers would rehearse
Should with his plumes first feather all his Verse.
I know not, when into thee I would prie,
Which to admire, thy Wing first: or thine Eye;
Or whether Nature at thy birth design'd
More of her Fire for thee, or of her Wind.
When thou in the clear Heights and upmost Air
Do'st face the Sun, and his dispersed Hair,
Ev'n from that distance thou the Sea do'st spie
And sporting in its deep, wide Lap the Frie.
Not the least Minoe there, but thou can'st see;
Whole Seas are narrow spectacles to thee.
Which to admire, thy Wing first: or thine Eye;
Or whether Nature at thy birth design'd
More of her Fire for thee, or of her Wind.
When thou in the clear Heights and upmost Air
Do'st face the Sun, and his dispersed Hair,
Ev'n from that distance thou the Sea do'st spie
And sporting in its deep, wide Lap the Frie.
Not the least Minoe there, but thou can'st see;
Whole Seas are narrow spectacles to thee.
Nor is this Element of water here
Below, of all thy miracles the sphere.
If Poets ought may add unto thy store,
Thou hast in Heav'n of wonders many more.
For when just Jove to Earth his thunder bends
And from that bright, eternal Fortress sends
His louder vollies: strait this Bird doth fly
To Ætna, where his Magazine doth lye:
And in his active Talons brings him more
Of ammunition, and recruits his store.
Nor is't a low, or easie Lift. He soares
'Bove Wind and Fire; gets to the Moon, and pores
With scorn upon her duller face; for she
Gives him but shadows and obscurity.
Here much displeas'd, that any thing like night
Should meet him in his proud and loftie flight,
That such dull Tinctures should advance so farr,
And rival in the glories of a star:
Resolv'd he is a nobler Course to try
And measures out his voyage with his Eye.
Then with such furie he begins his flight,
As if his Wings contended with his sight.
Leaving the Moon, whose humble light doth trade
With Spotts, and deals most in the dark and shade:
To the day's Royal Planet he doth pass
With daring Eyes, and makes the Sun his glass.
Here doth he plume and dress himself, the Beams
Rushing upon him, like so many Streams;
While with direct looks he doth entertain
The thronging flames, and shoots them back again.
And thus from star to star he doth repaire
And wantons in that pure and peaceful air.
Sometimes he frights the starrie Swan, and now
Orion's fearful Hare and then the Crow.
Then with the Orbe it self he moves, to see
Which is more swift th' Intelligence or He.
Thus with his wings his body he hath brought
Where man can travell only in a thought.
Below, of all thy miracles the sphere.
If Poets ought may add unto thy store,
Thou hast in Heav'n of wonders many more.
For when just Jove to Earth his thunder bends
And from that bright, eternal Fortress sends
His louder vollies: strait this Bird doth fly
To Ætna, where his Magazine doth lye:
And in his active Talons brings him more
Of ammunition, and recruits his store.
Nor is't a low, or easie Lift. He soares
'Bove Wind and Fire; gets to the Moon, and pores
4
Gives him but shadows and obscurity.
Here much displeas'd, that any thing like night
Should meet him in his proud and loftie flight,
That such dull Tinctures should advance so farr,
And rival in the glories of a star:
Resolv'd he is a nobler Course to try
And measures out his voyage with his Eye.
Then with such furie he begins his flight,
As if his Wings contended with his sight.
Leaving the Moon, whose humble light doth trade
With Spotts, and deals most in the dark and shade:
To the day's Royal Planet he doth pass
With daring Eyes, and makes the Sun his glass.
Here doth he plume and dress himself, the Beams
Rushing upon him, like so many Streams;
While with direct looks he doth entertain
The thronging flames, and shoots them back again.
And thus from star to star he doth repaire
And wantons in that pure and peaceful air.
Sometimes he frights the starrie Swan, and now
Orion's fearful Hare and then the Crow.
Then with the Orbe it self he moves, to see
Which is more swift th' Intelligence or He.
Thus with his wings his body he hath brought
Where man can travell only in a thought.
I will not seek, rare bird, what Spirit 'tis
That mounts thee thus; I'le be content with this;
To think, that Nature made thee to express
Our souls bold Heights in a material dress.
That mounts thee thus; I'le be content with this;
To think, that Nature made thee to express
Our souls bold Heights in a material dress.
| Thalia Rediviva | |