University of Virginia Library

Thou saw'st (and oh! how glorious was the sight?)
When the Creation smil'd at Infant Light,
And banish'd all the Dismall shades of Night.
When the bright Births at fruitfull Heaven's command
Immac'ulate drop'd from the Great Workman's hand,
E're Sin, or Curse, their genuine Beauty stain'd.
The Rowling Ages, that have since slid by,
Have all been brought forth by thy Midwifry:
From the first Monarch, but without a Crown,
To Him, that last forsook th' Uneasie Throne.
Thou saw'st at first, when swelling Families,
(Widely dispersing round their Colonies)
Did into Towns; Towns into Cities rise.
When Right of Empire was in Fatherhood,
And every one was King of his own Blood.
Till the Paternal Rule in Numbers lost,
In various Multitudes and Errours crost,
The Reins of Empire were by One ingrost.
Thou saw'st the Faults, in the first Empire grew,
The vicious Habits, its Destruction drew:
Till th' fatal Period swiftly hurrying on,
The mighty Babel from its height was thrown,
And from its shatter'd Limbs, in pieces broke,
Their Rise the lesser States and Kingdoms took:
Till one above the rest more Powerfull grown,
For Justice, Valour, and for Wisedom known,
Exalts by secret steps her lofty head,
And, some by kindness won, and some by dread,
O're all at last doth her wide Empire spread.
Till she, or Cruel, or Effeminate grown,
Less hurt by others Arms, than by her own,
Falls into th' Pit of sure Destruction.

Thus hast thou view'd the slippery State of things,
The Persian, Grecian, and the Roman Kings:
And shortly shal't the sad Catastrophe
And Fall o'th' now-decreasing CRESCENT see.

Wisest of Beings! What we do design,
And in dark Caverns of our Breast confine;
Ev'n where no Thought comes, where no Eye can peep,
But all's lap'd up in misty Clouds of sleep,
What Princes wish, or Cabinet Councils plot,
The Births, that are from their Conjunction got,
Subtlest Interpreter, thou dost reveal;
Thô Oaths and Sanctions do the secret Seal.
Even what Just Heaven before the World decreed,
What can from nothing, but his Hand proceed:
What shall to Peasants happen, what to Kings,
What to the Lofty, what to Humbler things:
What swallows up Man's bold and daring Mind,
And where even Angels can no footsteps find:
What doth surpass th' Intelligences sight,
Or hath, or shall by Thee be brought to Light.

Nor is't enough, thou saw'st the former days,
And in our Times know'st, what will come to pass:
But when this Generation hath its Doom,
And crowding Numbers in our Places come;
When all, that now is High, must Low be laid,
And Generations after Us are dead:
Then Thou wilt see, what now doth fly our Eyes,
What Abject People shall to Empire rise:
Where Mighty Citties, now their Nation's Glory,
Shall lie in Dust and be forgot in Story:
And in some unthought unsuspected place,
Others shall in their Room their proud Heads raise.
What Families shall up to Rule be born,
Whom Ages past ne're knew, or else did scorn:
And all be to such Alteration brought,
The very Ancient Names of things forgot:
That even the World may in the World be sought.

The Mighty Innovator Time, that brings
Those changes, are not in the Power of Kings.
What neither their Commands nor Arms can raise,
By secret unknown means He brings to pass.
Should Scipio or should Cæsar now awake,
And into Light from their dark Mansions break;
Should They, to what was the World's Mistress, come,
How would they wonder at once Glorious Rome!
Their once-known Palaces would seek in vain,
Nor their Triumphal Arches find remain:
But She that did of the World's Empire boast,
See in her Heaps of Scatter'd Ruines lost;
And to such steps of Desolation led
Her very Name and Valour buried.
Little they thought, what Time would once bring forth,
That the despised People of the North,
The Barbarous Scum, which Roman Souls did hate,
The Dregs and Lees of Men and Scourge of Fate,
Should thrô the Barrs of that strong Empire break,
And the vast Fabrick into pieces shake.
That other Nations proud with their Success,
Should their own Fame and Rome's Contempt increase:
Till o're Her every Land did Conquest boast,
And took again what their Forefathers lost.
They knew not what was in Fate's leaves enrol'd,
Nor would have credited, had they been told:
Such Revolutions there's no Art can tell;
'Tis only Time, that will the Truth reveal.

Time! Thou dost bring things into open view,
But Thou can'st drink a Cup of Lethe too.
Thou over all dost draw a fullen Cloud,
And dost in Mists, what's now apparent shrow'd,
The Acts of Ancient Days, to us unknown,
Buried long since in deep Oblivion:
What Heroes did, and Common People bore,
Forgetfull Time, thou can'st not now restore!
Those Noble Seats, that Honour'd once our Isle,
When Roman Eagles nested in our Soil,
Low with their Mistress Rome in dust are laid;
No footstep's found, may lead unto their Head:
Are sought in vain among their poor remains,
Shown but to puzzle Antiquaries Brains.

As Father Ocean here to Earth doth Lend,
And there his Watry Empire doth extend;
So thou dost sometimes new Inventions show,
But hidest other Rarer Matters low.
Tobacco, Guns, and Printing late arose.
But We are Rob'd of Richer things, than those;
Faith, Justice, Honour, Liberality,
And Ancient Friendship deep in Lethe ly.
Where is an Hero now, that owns a Muse?
Hawks, Hounds, and Mistresses they'd rather choose.

Thy Essence doth a Train of Wonders hold:
Thou never art above a Moment old,
Yet Thou beheld'st the rude mishapen Mass,
E're Light, Heaven's First-born, show'd her darling Face.
The Circling Years do dy and leave their Place,
And new Times in their rooms their Heads do raise:
Yet Thou Coæval with the World dost Live,
And to its utmost Period shalt survive.
Thou'rt ever here, and yet art ever past,
Thou'rt ever dying, yet dost ever last.
Thy subtle Parts always in Motion be,
Yet Thou dost ever a Succession see.
Waves crowd on Waves, and while We look they'r past,
And Eager Brethren after them do hast.
These press the former, those behind them press,
Nor let the fresh Supplies the Stream decrease:
New Waves the Place of what pass'd by retain;
The River yet unchanged doth remain.

Thou of all Jewels the most Precious, (Time!)
Of all the Stores o'th' East or Western Clime.
Imperious Gold, that all things doth command,
Whose powerfull Charms there's nothing can withstand;
Doth here an End of his vast Empire see;
That cannot have an Influence over Thee.
Thy moving Wheels cannot be stop'd by force,
No Bribes perswade Thee to renew thy Course:
Deaf to Intreaties, and to all our Moan,
“Once past, Thou'rt lost, and art for ever gone.
A Drug, while Thou upon our hand dost stay,
Which We well know not how to throw away:
But when thou'rt past, a Jewel in our Eye;
Whom not the Treasures of the World can buy.
Ages before our Birth We can't recall;
They no Relation have to Us at all:
What then was done, as We can ne're retrieve,
So neither are We bound account to give.
The Future Time We know not, that 'twill come;
We may before to morrow have our Doom;
We may be Summon'd by Death's Mighty Power:
And when We dy, Time is to Us no more.
“The Present Time's then all the Time We have,
“Those precious Moments our best Conduct crave:
“That We be Wise our latest Stake to Save.