University of Virginia Library

To my honoured Kinsman Mr. George Sandys, on his admirable Paraphrases.

VVhy com'st thou thus attended to the Presse?
Thou wants no Suffrages, the Subject, lesse:
At first, in confidence of thy full Worth,
Single, unknowne, Thou didst adventure forth:
Thy living Works since oft have past the Test,
And every last (to wonder) prov'd the best.
Thy Prose and Verse each other Æmulate,
From Rivals free, at home their Right debate:
Divide the Iudgement, whether most t'admire
Roabes loosely flowing, or fine shap't Attire.
Nor art thou to be blam'd, for having past
Pernassus hill, and come to Sion last.
The Schooles from Comments on the Stagyrite,
To heavenly Speculations rais'd their Flight:
The Progresse fit, though of Philosophy,
'Tis justly fear'd, they tooke too deepe a Dye.
God chiefely warm'd their Breasts with sacred Heat,
Who were in other Knowledges compleat:
Though all alike to him, but that he meant
To give some honour to the Instrument.
He who in other Structures merits praise,
May without diffidence a Temple raise.
And sure, Bezaleel-like, Heav'n did instill,
For this intended Frame, that Matchlesse Skill:
Till then thy restlesse Mind mov'd Circular,
Like the touch't Needle, till it find the Starre.
Well did'st thou from the East thy entrance make,
From whence the light of Poetry first brake.
The Hand unknowne, that God this Piece might own,
(Like the two Tables) for his Worke alone.
The Marke of his immediate Worke it beares,
Even at the Spring a boundlesse Sea appeares.
For what his Hands, without a Second, make,
At once their Being and Perfection take.
His first Day Adam a full Man beheld;
And Cana's Water choicest Wine exceld.
This first of Authors, first of Poets, flew
So high a Pitch, as almost out of View.
And this was not of Iobs rewards the lest,
That his rare Story such a Pen exprest.
What high expressions in such depth of Woe!
How sweet his sighes and grones in Numbers flow!
When God himselfe was pleased Iob to cite,
Who could such Language worthy Him endite!
His just Reproofes so great a Terrour beare,
As if each Word a clap of Thunder were.
From hence in smaller Drilles her course she keeps;
And scarce discern'd, along the Vallies creeps
Through Moses and the Iudges; yet we may
In these discover her continued Way.
But when the State into a Kingdome grew,
When all did with their blessed King renew;
In the sweet Singer then againe it flowes,
Her bounds extends, and to a River growes.
His large-soul'd Son from Heaven full Light receives,
For every Path and Step direction gives.
Discovers to our long-seduced Eyes,
Her Fucus off, the Worlds deformities.
And by a Purer quenches sensuall Fire,
The Object chang'd, preserves the Heat entire.
These two, who might with Iob dispute their Right,
Rais'd Numbers to their Apogæon height.
Thence through the Prophets We her Current trace,
Whose graver Works Poeticke Iems enchace:
To shew how aptly both assume one Name,
Both Heaven-inspir'd, compos'd of Zeale and Flame:
Above the Rest, that funerall Elegy,
Presents sad Iuda, to th'admiring Eye
So lovely in her Sable Vaile and Teares;
Scarce any Bride in all her Trim appeares:
Of such a winning sweetnesse: O what Heart
But must due Pitty to her Woes impart!
All these, for Prose had still mistaken beene,
Their Native grace our Language never seene:
Had not thy speaking Picture shew'd to All
The wondrous beauty of th'Originall;
Had lien like Stones uncut, and Oare untri'd,
Their Reall Worth the same, though scarce espi'd,
But by the skilfull Linguist; To the Most
In the darke Sense, and hard Expressions lost.
Thy Art hath Polish't them to what they were,
Vnvalued Iewels for the Breast, and Eare.
Here fixe thy Pillars, what remaines there high'r,
But th'unknowne Ditties of the heavenly Quire.