Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Once more the voyce of heavens high-Cōmander,
(Like horrid claps of heav'ns-dividing thunder
Or like the fall of waters breach (the noise
Bring heard farre distant off) such was the voyce),
Came downe from heav'n to Ionah, new-borne-Mā,
To re-baptized Ionah, and thus began;
Am I a God? Or art thou ought but Dust?
More than a man? Or are my Lawes unjust?
Am I a God, and shall I not command?
Art thou a man, and dur'st my Lawes withstand?
Shall I (the motion of whose breath shall make
Both earth, and Sea, and Hell, and Heaven quake)
By thee (fond man) shall I be thus neglected;
And thy presumption scape uncorrected?
Thy faith hath sav'd thee (Ionah:) Sin no more,
Lest worse things happen after, than before;
Arise; let all th'assembled pow'rs agree
To doe th'Embassage I impose on thee;
Trifle no more; and, to avoid my sight,
Thinke not to baulke me with a second flight.

Arise, and goe to Niniveh (the great)
Where broods of Gentiles have ta'ne up their seat,
The great Queene regent mother of the Land,
That multiplies in people like the sand;
Away, with wings of time, (J'le not essoyne thee)
Denounce these fiery Iudgements, I enjoyne thee.

Like as a youngling that to schoole is sent,
(Scarce weaned from his mothers blandishment
Where he was cockerd with a stroking hand)
With stubborne heart denyes the just command.
His, Tutor wils: But being once corrected,
His home-bred stomack's curb'd, or quite ejected:
His crooked nature's chang'd, and mollifi'd,
And humbly seekes, what stoutly he deny'd;
So Jonah's stout, perverse, and stubborne heart,
Was hardned once, but when it felt the smart
Of heav'ns avenging wrath, it straight dissolv'd,
And what it once avoyded, now resolv'd,
T'effect with speed, and with a carefull hand
Fully replenish'd with his Lords Command,
To Niniveh he flyeth like a Roe,
Each step the other strives to overgoe;
And as an Arrow to the marke does flie,
So (bent to flight) flies he to Niniveh.

Now Niniveh a might Citie was,
Which all the Cities of the world did passe,
A Citie which o're all the rest aspires
Like midnight Phœbe 'mongst the lesser fires;
A Citie, which (although to men was given)
Better beseem'd the Majestie of Heaven:
A City Great to God, whose ample wall,
Who undertakes to mete with paces, shall
Bring Phœbus thrice to bed, ere it be done,
(Although with dawning Hesperus begun.

When Ionas hath approacht the City gate,
He made no stay to rest, nor yet to bait,
No supple oyle his fainting head anoints,
Stayes not to bathe his weather-beaten joynts,
Nor smooth'd his countenance, nor slick' his skin,
Nor craved he the Hostage of an Inne,
To ease his aking bones (with travell sore)
But went as speedy, as he fled before;
The Cities greatnesse made him not refuse,
To be the trump of that unwelcome newes
His tongue was great with; But (like thūders noise)
His mouth flew ope, and out there rusht a voyce.

When dewy-cheek't Aurora shall display
Her golden locks, and summon up the day
Twice twenty times, and rest her drowzy head
Twice twenty nights, in aged Tithons bed,
Then Niniveh this place of high renowne,
Shall be destroy'd, and sackt, and batterd downe.

He sate not downe to take deliberation,
What maner people were they, or what Nation,
Or Gent', or Salvage; nor did he enquier
What place were most convenient for a Cryer,
Nor like a sweet-lipt Orator did steare,
Or tune his language to the peoples eare,
But bold, and rough, yet full of Majesty,
Lift up his trumpet, and began to cry,

When forty times Don Phœbus shall fulfill
His Iournall course upon th'Olympian Hill,
Then Niniveh (the Worlds great wonder) shall
Startle the Worlds foundation with her fall.

The dismall Prophet stands not to admire,
The Cities pompe, or peoples quaint attire,
Nor yet (with fond affection) doth pity
Th'approaching downfall of so brave a City,

But dauntlesse he his dreadfull voice extends,
Respectlesse, whom this bolder cry offends,

When forty daies shall be expir'd, and run,
And that poore Inch of time drawne out and done,
Then Niniveh (the Worlds Imperiall throne)
Sall not be left a stone, upon a stone.

Meditat. 8.

Bvt stay; Is God like one of us? Can he
When he hath said it, alter his Decree?
Can he that is the God of Truth, dispence
With what he vow'd? or offer violence
Vpon his sacred Iustice? Can his minde
Revolt at all? or vary like the winde?
How comes this alteration then that He
Thus limiting th'effect of his Decree
Vpon the expiring date of forty daies,
He then performes it not? But still delaies
His plagues denounc't, & Iudgement stil forbeares,
And stead of forty dayes gives many yeares?
Yet forty dayes, and Niniveh shall perish?
Yet forty yeares, and Niniveh doth flourish:
A change in man's infirme, in God 'tis strange;
In God, to change his Will, and will a Change,
Are divers things: When he repents from ill,
He wils a change; he changes not his Will;
The subject's chang'd, which secret was to us,
But not the mind, that did dispose it thus;
Denounced Iudgement God doth oft prevent,
But neither changes counsell, nor intent:
The voyce of heaven doth seldome threat perdition
But with expresse, on an imply'd condition,

So that, if Niniveh returne from ill,
God turnes his hand, he doth not turne his Will.

The stint of Niniveh was forty dayes,
To change the Byas of her crooked wayes:
To some the time is large, To others, small;
To some 'tis many yeares; And not at all
To others; Some an houre have, and some
Have scarce a minute of their time to come:
Thy span of life (Malfido) is thy space,
To call for mercy, and to cry for grace.

Lord! what is man, but like a worme that crawles
Open to danger every foote that fals?
Death creepes (unheard) and steals abroad (unseen)
Her darts are sudden, and her arrowes keene,
Vncertaine when, but certaine she will strike,
Respecting King and Begger both alike;
The stroke is deadly, come it soone, or late,
Which once being strucke, repenting's out of date;
Death is a minute, full of sudden sorrow:
“Then live to day, as thou maist die to morrow.