It is good for me to draw neare to God; I have put my trust in the Lord God.
Where is that Good, which wise men please to call
The Chiefest? Does there any such befall
Within mans reach? Or is there such a Good at all?
If such there be: it neither must expire,
Nor change; than which, there can be nothing higher;
Such Good must be the utter point of mans desire:
It is the Mark, to which all hearts must tend,
Can be desired for no other end,
Then for it selfe; on which, all other Goods depend:
What may this Exc'lence be? does it subsist
A royall Essence, clouded in the mist
Of curious Art, or cleare to ev'ry eye that list?
Or is't a tart Idea, to procure
An Edge, and keep the practick soule in ure,
Like that deare Chymick dust, or puzzling Quadrature?
Where shall I seek this Good? Where shall I find
This Cath'lick pleasure, whose extreames may bind
My thouhts, and fill the gulph of my insatiate mind?
Lies it in Treasure? In full heaps untold?
Does gowty Mammons griping hand infold
This secret Saint in sacred Shrines of sov'raigne Gold?
No, no; she lies not there; Wealth often sowrs
In keeping; makes us hers, in seeming ours;
She slides from heav'n indeed, but not in Danaes showrs.
Lives she in Honour? No. The royall Crowne
Builds up a Creature, and then batters downe:
Kings raise thee with a smile, and raze thee with a frowne.
In pleasure? No, Pleasure begins in rage;
Acts the fooles part on earths uncertaine Stage,
Begins the Play in Youth; and Epilogues in Age.
These, these are bastard-goods; the best of these
Torment the soule with pleasing it, and please,
Like water gulp'd in Fevers, with deceitfull ease.
Earths flattring dainties are but sweet distresses:
Mole-hils performe the mountaines she professes;
Alas, can earth confer more good than earth possesses?
Mount, mount my soule; and let thy thoughts casheire
Earths vaine delights, and make their full careire
At heav'ns eternall joyes, stop, stop thy Courser there.
There shall thy soule possesse uncarefull Treasure;
There shalt thou swim in never-fading pleasure;
And blaze in Honour farre above the frownes of Caesar.
Lord, if my hope dare let her Anchor fall
On thee, the chiefest Good, no need to call
For earths inferiour trash; Thou, thou art All in All.
S. AUGUST. Soliloq. Cap. 13.
I follow this thing, I pursue that; but am fill'd with nothing. But when I
found thee, who art that immutable, individed, and onely good, in myselfe, what
I obtained, I wanted not; for what I obtained not, I grieved not; with what I
was possest, my whole desire was satisfied.
S. BERN. Ser. 9 sup. beati qui habent, &c.
Let others pretend merit: let him brag of the burthen of the day; let him
boast of his Sabbath fasts, and let him glory that he is not as other men: but
for me, it is good to cleave unto the Lord, and to put my trust in my Lord God.
