Divine poems Containing The History of Ionah. Ester. Iob. Sampson. Sions Sonets. Elegies. Written and newly augmented, by Fra: Quarles |
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Medita. 7.
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 | Divine poems |  |
Medita. 7.
Fights God for cursed Amalek? That hand
That once did curse, doth now the curse withstand:
Is God unjust? Is Iustice fled from heaven;
Or are the righteous Ballances uneven?
Is this that Iust Iehova's sacred Word,
Firmely inroll'd within the Lawes Record,
Ile fight with Amalek, destroy his Nation,
And from remembrance blurre his Generation?
What, shall his curse to Amalek be void?
And with those plagues shall Isr'el be destroyd:
Ah, sooner shall the sprightfull flames of fire
Descend and moysten; and dull earth, aspire,
And with her drinesse quench faire Titans heate,
Then shall thy words, and just Decrees retreat:
The Day, (as wery of his burden) tyres;
The Yeare (full laden with her months) expires:
The heav'ns (growne great with age) must soon decay,
The pondrous earth in time shall passe away;
But yet thy sacred words shall alway flourish,
Though daies, & years, & heavē, & earth do perish:
That once did curse, doth now the curse withstand:
Is God unjust? Is Iustice fled from heaven;
Or are the righteous Ballances uneven?
Is this that Iust Iehova's sacred Word,
Firmely inroll'd within the Lawes Record,
Ile fight with Amalek, destroy his Nation,
And from remembrance blurre his Generation?
What, shall his curse to Amalek be void?
And with those plagues shall Isr'el be destroyd:
124
Descend and moysten; and dull earth, aspire,
And with her drinesse quench faire Titans heate,
Then shall thy words, and just Decrees retreat:
The Day, (as wery of his burden) tyres;
The Yeare (full laden with her months) expires:
The heav'ns (growne great with age) must soon decay,
The pondrous earth in time shall passe away;
But yet thy sacred words shall alway flourish,
Though daies, & years, & heavē, & earth do perish:
How perkes proud Haman then? What prosp'rous fate
Exalts his Pagan head? How fortunate
Hath favour crown'd his times? Hath God decreed
No other Curse upon that cursed seed?
Exalts his Pagan head? How fortunate
Hath favour crown'd his times? Hath God decreed
No other Curse upon that cursed seed?
The mortall eye of man can but perceive
Things present; when his heart cannot conceive,
Hee's either by his outward senses guided,
Or, like a Quere, leaves it undecided:
The fleshly eye that lends a feeble sight,
Failes in extent, and hath no further might
Than to attaine the object: and there ends
His office; and of what it apprehends,
Acquaints the understanding, which conceives,
And descants on that thing the sight perceives,
Or good, or bad; unable to project
The just occasion, or the true effect:
Man sees like man, and can but comprehend,
Things as they present are, not as they end;
God sees a Kings heart in a shepheards brest,
And in a mighty King, he sees a Beast:
'Tis not the spring tyde of an high estate
Creates a man (though seeming) Fortunate:
The blaze of Honour, Fortunes sweet excesse,
Doe undeserve the name of Happinesse:
The frownes of indisposed Fortune makes
Man poore, but not unhappy. He that takes
Her checks with patience, leaves the name of poor,
And lets in Fortune at a backer doore.
Things present; when his heart cannot conceive,
Hee's either by his outward senses guided,
Or, like a Quere, leaves it undecided:
The fleshly eye that lends a feeble sight,
Failes in extent, and hath no further might
Than to attaine the object: and there ends
His office; and of what it apprehends,
Acquaints the understanding, which conceives,
And descants on that thing the sight perceives,
Or good, or bad; unable to project
The just occasion, or the true effect:
Man sees like man, and can but comprehend,
Things as they present are, not as they end;
God sees a Kings heart in a shepheards brest,
And in a mighty King, he sees a Beast:
'Tis not the spring tyde of an high estate
Creates a man (though seeming) Fortunate:
The blaze of Honour, Fortunes sweet excesse,
Doe undeserve the name of Happinesse:
125
Man poore, but not unhappy. He that takes
Her checks with patience, leaves the name of poor,
And lets in Fortune at a backer doore.
Lord, let my fortunes be or rich, or poore:
If small, the lesse account; if great, the more.
If small, the lesse account; if great, the more.
| Divine poems | |