Solomon's recantation :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now launch, my Soul, into this Sea of Tears;
Fear Storms and Rocks, yet smile upon thy Fears;
Weigh Anchor; hoist thy weather beaten Sails;
The Tides run smooth; the Wind breathes prosp'rous Gales.
Tridented Neptune now hath struck a Peace
With full-mouth'd Æolus, and the Wars surcease:
They sound a Parley, and begin to treat,
And sea-green Triton sounds a shrill Retreat.
March now, my Soul, through Hadadrimmon's Vale
Without a Tear; or if thou must bewail,
Mourn for vain Earth, and drop in Alms one Tear
For him that finds no Happiness but there.
Now mayst thou trample on the Asp, and tread
On the young Lyon, and th'old Dragon's Head;
Wisdom shall guide thee, Love shall circumclose thee,
That Fraud shall not beguile, or Force oppose thee.
Thy Prince shall honour thee, thy Peers embrace thee;
No Crime shall shame thee, and no Tongue disgrace thee;
The Rich shall rev'rence thee, the Poor shall bless thee;
Wrath shall not over-rule, nor Pride oppress thee;
Thy Want shall not afflict, nor Wealth betray thee,
This shall not puff thee up, nor that dismay thee:
Pleasure shall not ensnare, nor Pains torment thee,
This shall not make thee sad, nor that repent thee.
Blest shall thy Labours be, and sweet thy Rest;
Blest shall thy Thoughts be, and thy Actions blest;

Blest in thy Peace, and blest in thy Promotion;
Blest in thy Sports, and blest in thy Devotion;
Blest in thy Losses, blest in thy Increases;
Blest in thy Health, and blest in thy Diseases;
Blest in thy Knowledge, blest in thy Corrections;
Blest in thy Soul, and blest in thy Affections.

O then, my Soul, let thy Affections flow
In Streams of Love to him that lov'd thee so;
Let not his high-priz'd Benefits depart
From thy Remembrance, grave them in thy Heart
With Tools of Adamant, that they may last
To after-times, that when thy Days be past,
Thy well-instructed Children may emblaze
Thy Maker's Goodness to the Last of Days.
Bless thou the Lord, my Soul; let thy whole Frame,
And all within thee magnify that Name
That blest thee so; bless thou the Lord, my Soul,
Report his precious Favours, and enrole
His numerous Mercies in thy grateful Breast:
Remember thy Creator; O protest
His Praises to the World, and let thy Tongue
Make him the Subject of thy youthful Song;
Give him the Firstlings of thy Strength, e'en then
When fading Childhood seeks to ripen Man
Upon thy downy Cheeks; when Vigor trains
The sparkling Blood through thy meandring Veins;
Before thy flowing Marrow shall foment
Thy lustful Fires; before the false Content
Of frothy Pleasures shall begin t'invite
Thy fond Affections to a vain Delight.
Then, then, my Soul, whilst thy Supplys are fresh
And strong, wage War with thy rebellious Flesh;
Gird up thy Loins, and march, spare neither Sweat
Nor Blood, take Courage, strike, subdue, defeat:
Sing a triumphant Song, sing Io Pæan;
Adorn thy Brows with Palm, and again, sing Io Pæan.
Take time while time shall serve; 'tis thine to day,
But secret Danger still attends Delay.

Do while thou mayst; to day has Eagle Wings,
And who can tell what Change to morrow brings?
Advantage wastes, and Strength of Body wares,
Life has no Lease; and Youth no Term for Years:
When creeping Age shall quench thy sprightly Fires,
And breathe cold Winter on thy chill Desires.
What Fire shall burn thy Offerings? O what Praise
Can issue forth from cold decripit Days?
When ebbing Bloods neap-tides shall strike thy Limbs
With trembling Palsies; when dry Age bedims
The optick Sun-shine of thy bed rid Days,
What boots thy cold, thy paralytick Praise?
When secret Ulcers shall attaint thy Breath
With Fumes more noysome than the Sinks of Death,
What Pleasure shall thy great Creator raise
From thy breath-tainted, and unsavoury Praise?

Come then, my Soul, rouse up thy dull Desire,
And quicken thy faint Coals of sacred Fire,
That lie rak'd up in th'Embers of thy Flesh;
Fetch Breath from Heaven, and with that Breath refresh
Thy glim'ring Sparks, brook not the least Delay,
Embers grow cold, and Sparks will soon decay.