Mundorum Explicatio :: :: University of Virginia Library

Mundorum Explicatio

or, The Explanation of an Hieroglyphical Figure: Wherein are couched the Mysteries of the External, Internal, and Eternal Worlds, shewing the true progress of a Soul from the Court of Jerusalem; from the Adamical fallen state to the Regenerate and Angelical. Being A Sacred Poem, written by S. P. [i.e. Samuel Pordage]

Pordage, Samuel (1633-1691?)

THE EXPLANATION OF AN Hieroglyphical Figure,

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Through Faith we understand that the Worlds (αιωνεσ) were framed by the Word of God, so that things that are seen, were not made of things that do appear, Heb. 11. 3.

God hath in these last dayes spoken to us by his Son, whom he hath Created Heir of all things, by whom he made the Worlds, Heb. 1. 2.

O homo, quid miraris Syderum altitudines, & profunditatem maris? animi tui abyssum intra, & mirare si potes. Isid. lib. 1. de sum. Bon.

------ Quod magis ad nos
Pertinet & Nescire Malum est ------
Hor. Sat. lib. 2.

Quid noscis siteipsum nescis?
Bucer in Psal.

Homo ad contemplandum Creatorem suum Conditus est
Gregor. Mor. 8.

iii

INTO THE SACRED TREASURIE OF THE IMACULATE LAMB OF GOD THE HOLY JESUS: KING OF ALL THE WORLDS AND MANS REDEEMER THE MOST UNWORTHY OF HIS SERVANTS HUMBLY PROSTRATE IN ALL HUMILITY BEGS LEAVE TO CAST THIS HIS SMALL MITE.

Casta placent superis; purâ cum mente venite,
Et manibus puris sumite fontis aquam.
Tibul. Elg.

xiii

AN ENCOMIUM

On J. B. and his Interperer J. Sparrow Esq; wrote in Latine, and thus rendred into English.

Great Saint! tho I not in the Rubric see
Thy Name; in verse I may remember Thee.
By whom we profit it is good to own;
By thee I must confesse I much have known.
Of God, Heav'n, Nature; we the secrets know
By thy choyce works; they mystic Wonders show.
Thy Works do shew the way to Paradise,
To the blest Kingdoms of Æternal Joys:
The Sons of Wisdom only read thee right;
By Day the Wise read thee; th' unwise by Night.
Treasures and Gemms are open'd to their mind
Whilst these an Abysse of thick darknesse find:
Nor let them blame thee for the faults their own,
Tis their dark minds see not when plainly shown.
Proud Man, and Covetous Sophist vain, take heed,
Dost thou the sacred Works of Behman read?

xiv

Proud Priest and Truth's opposer, Worldling, you
The Envious, Rigid, Zoilus, Momus too?
The outside of the Book you only see;
Not Behman's mind, nor sacred Mysterie:
O're Behman's face, hang pitchy Vailes, what there
You see, to you but Paradoxes are.
But when you wise, and humble read; his mind
A Treasure both of Gemms, and Light you find.
For you, the pitchy Vales are ta'ne a ay,
The plous Truths discover'd where they lay.
The Key to this rich Treasure is your right,
You find the Art of this Teutonick Light,
God's Spirit's the Key; th' Ar b'inspiration's shew'd:
Divine he was in humane Science rude.
The sacred Flame within his Breast did shine
When that He pen'd such mysteries Divine.
'Twas God himself who did his Hand direct
Who doth the Infant, and the wise respect.
God was his Master, it was he alone
That made to him such mystic Wonders known;
And the Arcana's of the Worlds did shew
Both of the Light, the Dark, and this World too.
To Him the mystic Tongue of Nature's given,
That, and the true Cabal is shew'd from Heav'n.
Tha mystic Tongue was Known in Paradise,
And He like Adam. Knew those mysteries.
Within the Centre of his Breast divine
God's Light the Sun of Righteousnesse did shine.
When that he wrote his chast Beast us'd to be
Fil'd with the Spirit of the Deity.
Fie biting Critick, and evil tongues, that Prate
'Gainst Behman, and his Works Calumniate.
Wo to Blasphemers; To the biting Tongue
Who to the Saints and all good men do wrong.
Because a simple Laick, shall he be
(Mayn't God choose whom he please) contemn'd by thee?
Do not his Works for new-Coyn'd Words despise,
Mayn't God, who all words made, new Words devise?
Will Wise men Gemms in earthen Platters scorn?
Or Wisdom 'cause her Robes are old, and torn?

Bark on all Tongues, that Him besparter so,
Yet Behman's Palm under its weight shall grow.
His Palm shall flourish and it flourish may,
For ever, Time shall wipe reproach away.
Spite of his foes endevours still his Fame
Encreases daily, and hall do the same.
Spite of Hells force his glory shall encrease
Nor whilst the World lasts shall his splendor cease.
In this World's Scene still shall his Works divine
Like so many twinkling Starrs in darknesse shine.
Or like to Moyses mystic Pillar, they
Shew night to ill Men, and to good Men Day.
To holy Men with their diviner light,
They shew the way to Blisse, and Heav'n aright.
I warn the scoffer to beware there ore,
Thou Behman's Writings violate no more.
Now holy Soul these slender line approve,
Which at thy shrine is offer'd by my Love.
And though these perish may, thy Name shall be
A living Monument, as well as thee.
In Heav'n thou liv'st, for ever there: But here
Whilst the World lasts, thou in thy works shin'st clear.
Great Saint we thus sing forth out thanks below,
Which are just debts, for what thou didst bestow.
And learned Sparrow we thy praises too
Will sing; Rewards too small for what is due.
The gifts of Glory, and of Praise we owe:
The English Behman doth thy Trophies shew.
Whilst English men that great Saints praise declare,
Thy Name shall joyn'd with His receive a share:
The Time shall come when his great Name shall rise,
Thy Glory also shall ascend the Skies.
Thou mad'st him English speak: or else what Good
Had his works done us if not understood?
To Germany they beneficial prove
Alone; till we enjoy'd them by thy Love.
Their German-Robes thou took'st from them, that we
Their Beauties, might in English Garments see.
Thus has thy Love a vast rich Treasure showen,
And made what was exotic now our own.

xvi

What thanks? What praise? owe we for Love so great?
What cost can recompence your paines and sweat?
But yet go on; don't Virtues Race decline;
Finish in spite of Behman's foes, and thine
What yet remaines of his choyse works, that they
By thee translated speak our Language may.
If we reward you not, as is your due,
A better hand shall give a Crown to you:
Not Palmes, nor Laurels, but of more renown
Of Light Æternal Christ will give a Crown.

Pium est agnoscere per quem profecisti.

xxxv

INVOCATIO.

King and Creator of all Worlds that be!
Who wast from, and art to Æternity,
I humbly beg; that with thy Spirit Divine,
Thou wouldst wrap up this grovling Muse of mine,
Beyond the limits of an Earthly strain,
Beyond the dictates of my weaker brain,
Beyond my poor Conceptions; that she may
Sing, quicken'd by thy own diviner Ray.
Vouchsafe to grant, O Sempeternal King!
VVhilst I thy self, and thy great Wonders sing,
A Beam of Light unto my Pen: Inspire
Me with the Heats of the Seraphic Quire,
That Cherub-like, with everlasting Layes
Thy VVonders sing, and Carol forth thy Praise
I cheerly may: Help then! without thy ayd
O Lord! my words are wind, my Numbers fade
Shall, sooner than the Morning dew before
The scorching Sun, which gone, is seen no more.
Be thou propitious Lord! for unto thee
My self and Numbers dedicated be.

xxxvi

INVITATIO.

Draw near you humble ones, and truly wise,
Cast on this Figure your enlightned eyes,
Where every World doth its Arcana's shew:
Unless gross darkness shall encompass you;
Without explaining here you may behold
The sacred Secrets that the Worlds enfold;
But if that holy Ray of Light you want,
You may in darkness sit, and ignorant,
Despise the Knowledge of the Truth divine.
Rich Pearls unfitting for the snouts of swine
Are, and unlesse God with a pow'rfull Gale
Of Love, shall draw aside th' obscuring Vail,
Their puzling brains dull'd with the Earth below,
May still ignore those things we plainly show.
But you whose hearts concentred are in Love,
Whose eyes withdrawn from Earth, are fix'd above,
Whose minds plac'd on Cœlestial Objects, free
From mortal cares, and carnal pleasures be;
And you who rancour have dispel'd your breasts,
Who shun all fruitless, and most vain Contests
I here invite: accept my homely fare,
And freely grant your pardon where I err:
I look for kindnesse from the learn'd, and wise,
But scorn from those that Carp, and Criticise.
The Hieroglyphick see: my Muse alone
Travels in Numbers for to make it known.

xxxvii

PROÆMIUM.

I sing no Hero's douty gests in warrs,
Nor blazon forth some Warlike Champion's Scarrs:
I here no Prince's acts hyperbolize
With glozing prayses: Nor unto the Skies
Advance some common Justice in a King,
Nor the dread fury of the Wars I sing:
Nor with bewitching Layes advance above
The Sacred, the base toyes of wanton Love.
Nor praise the Courtly beauties of the times,
With Wine-inspired, and lascivious Rhithmes.
With Mars or Venus doth my Muse conjoyn;
She is URANIA and her Song's divine
I Sing (fill'd with Enthean Rage) the way
To Heav'n above, and everlasting Joy;
The vanity of cursed Earth beneath,
Where we poor helpless Mortals live and breath;
Th' Eternal horrors of the larger Sphear,
Where great Beelzebub and his Princes are:
The constant Joyes, and everlasting Bliss
Of the light World; or blessed Paradise:
The holy Myst'ries of the Worlds above
The lasting pleasures of the Sphears of Love:
These are the holy subjects of my Song;
Which doth the quavers of a sweeter Tongue
Then mine deserve: But yet accept my Will,
Which better would; had I had better Skill.

THE EXPLANATION OF AN Hieroglyphical Figure,

SHEWING THE MYSTERIES OF THE External, Internal & Eternal WORLDS.

1. The first Part.

Sad and deplorable's the state of man,
Whose day's a vapour, and whose life's a span;
Whose years a bubble, and whose bliss is pain,
Whose joyes are trouble, and whose hopes are vain,
Should there indeed no other Worlds but this
Terrestrial be, in which he dwelling is.

Vain were the hopes of just and righteous men,
Than they none were more miserable then;
For who indeed more miserable seem,
More wretched and despis'd, forlorn then them:
Earth's fat, and bounty often is with-held,
Oft they're deny'd the riches of the feild:
A life here poor, and needy oft they have,
And oft return afflicted to the grave:
Whilst the unjust, and wicked man the while
Flows with his Hony, Butter, Milk and Oyl,
Whilst that his Wine press gusheth forth a stream
Of purple juyce to feed, and fatten him:
Whilst bounteous earth doth plenty him afford;
Whilst fill'd with pleasures, both of bed and bord,
Unpunisht, he afflicts the just, and poor,
And empty turns the begger from his door,
Grindeth the face of needy men: Commits
Murthers and Whoredomes, yet triumphing sits
Till he returneth to the greedy grave,
And yet is seen no punishment to have.
Sure this most plainly other Worlds doth shew
To be, where each of these shall have his due,
God's alwayes equal, ever just we see
His acts in number, weight and measure be.
Dives in plenty, Lazarus in pain,
(Yet God is just) shall in this world remain:
A world of pain there for the rich man is,
For Lazarus another full of bliss.

Let Atheists scoff, and seeing these things, declare
Profanely that no other worlds there are:
Let them cry pish, and mock them to their face,
Who threat them judgement in another place:
Let them accurst cry; May we live but here
In pleasures; God nor your vain Hell we fear:
See we not all men to the grave return,
Their dusty ashes gather'd in their urn,
Their flesh consume, their harder bones to rot,
Their fames and names both perish'd and forgot,
Who like the beasts unto the earth do go,
Their souls int' air dissolv'd, are seen no moe:

Deceit the mother of this folly is,
To think there's any other world but this,
For Sophisters to tye men to their Law,
Them with Religion, and a God did aw,
And with invented worlds hereafter; where
They answer should for what they had done here:
Where good and just men should in pleasures dwell,
The wicked be perplex'd with torments fell.
Let Atheists argue thus; Let them alone,
For at the last the worst will be their own,
When to their sorrow, and eternal pain
They find the notion of a God's not vain,
When they shall find, when they this world forego,
Another world of torment, pain and woe:
I mean not therefore with them to dispute,
Nor strive with arguments for to confute
Their cursed Tenents; for the stoutest doth
Oft' times when scar'd; in's heart misdoubt the truth
Of what he holds; who by his conscience aw'd,
Is forced to confess there is a God.
Who boldly dares deny the same in light,
The same again doth doubt, the same at night,
When fearfull darkness reigneth o're the world,
And fear and horror in each corner's hurld.
When dreadfull lightnings through the world do fly
When roaring thunders rattle in the skie,
When blustring storms do rend the stoutest oakes,
When mighty mountains rend with thunder strokes,
When the great Moles of the earth doth quake,
When roaring seas with dreadfull murmurs speak
Th' Almighty's power; the Atheist struck with fear,
Crying aloud for help, runs here and there,
And will he, nill he, then his thoughts do flie
For hepl to, and think there's a Deity;
Like that poor Godling who ran under bord,
And cry'd, I am no God, when thunders roar'd.
If then these wretches doubtfull are sometimes,
So obstinate me thinks they in their crimes
Should not be: for it that it doubtfull were,
This way more safe, than that it is to err;

For to believe there is a God, and him
To fear, no damagement can bring to them,
No hurt at all; when on the other side
They'n dangerous seas of Death eternal ride;
For if a God there be (as we well know
There is) into damnation's pit they throw
Themselves: so whilst their wisdom they'd expresse;
They damn themselves by their own foolishnesse.

But, that there is a God we need not prove,
When all things shew his matchlesse Pow'r, and Love;
For wheresoever we shall cast our eye,
Sure tokens of a mighty God we spy:
The glorious Splendor of the Lamp of Day,
The Mistresse of the Night's resplendant Ray.
The silver Spangles of the azure Skie,
The winged folk which in the ayr do flie,
The spangle-coated fishes of the Sea,
The Brutes, the herbs, the flowr'rs, and every tree,
Do daily tell us, that they being had,
And life, and growth, from an immortal God:
For who but diligently noteth them,
Must needs (as GALEN did) confesse the same.
The form, and being of this world doth prove,
The mighty power of the great JEHOVE,
And that a Deity there is: For why
'Tis plain it was not from Æternity,
The constant changes of all things below,
The same to wise men do most clearly show;
Its alteration, its Catastrophe
Declares; but what is from Æternity
No end can have. The world beginning had,
Which was from Chance, from Nature, or from God:
From CHANCE it was not; what a jumbled thing,
And foul mishapen Monster Chance would bring
Forth, could but she a world produce? but this
Of harmony and true agreement is
So full that Atheists convinc'd proclam'd
Have, that not chance but God the world hath fram'd.
For who considers but the Harmony
Of those bright fires shining in the skie,

The order, marriage, and the sweet consent
With one another of each Element:
The secret virtues of all things that grow,
The hidden Sympathy of things below,
And Earth's most admirable form; will not
Himself exhibit to be such a sot,
Nor will be fill'd with so much ignorance,
As to averr the world was made by CHANCE.
Nor yet by NATURE was the world created,
For if that she had thus the world instated,
All things obedient would have been to her,
And past her bounds, and rules not dar'd to stir,
But all do know how that sometimes the Creature,
Passeth the limits, and the bounds of Nature
Miraculously, as when the golden Sun
Ecclipsed is, in the full of the Moon:
As when the Sun; when Christ our Saviour dy'd;
His face did in a Mask of darknesse hide,
As all the world well knew; for then between
The Moon and him full half the Heav'n was seen:
So that it was impossible the cause
Of this Ecclipse should come from Nature's Laws,
Nor yet can those who Nature God will make
For every thing a Natural reason speak:
NATURE nor CHANCE therefore this world could frame,
A God therefore it follows made the same:
A GOD therefore there is: The Devil too,
And acts of evil spirits plainly shew
The same; the world can testifie to this
That Sp'rits apparitions no fable is.
But chiefly men (although they God deny)
Themselves are forc'd a God to justifie:
How else can they such an Idea frame
Of the great God, as to deny the same?
For who can an Idea frame of what
No being has? whose species is not?
We an Idëa frame may of a face
Of man, or beast, which living never was;
But men, and beasts there are, or else we frame
Could not any Idëa's of the same:

So man may false Ideas frame of God,
But were there none, he no Ideas shou'd;
So man of God doth an Idea frame,
Whilst he about goes to deny the same,
And so is forc'd indeed for to confess
What's mouth denyes with so much wickedness.
Nature hath with an Adamantine pen
Insculped deeply into the hearts of men,
That there's a God: although she could not show,
Nor dictate to them the true God to know:
And on their consciences she by her Law
Has of a Deity impos'd an aw:
For there's no Nation, though they brutish be,
But have a Notion of a Deitie;
Some thing or other for a God adore
They do; which certainly was past the power
Of humane policy for to imprint,
And o're the whole world, through all ages hint.
Conscience doth prove a Deity likewise,
Which in the face still of the wicked flies,
And though his actions ne'r so secret be,
Yet he's afraid there is an eye doth see;
An eye which points, and doth distinguish still,
Betwixt, (the several acts of) good and ill.
Lastly the soul of man, which shall for aye
In night Eternal, or eternal day
Dwell; which immortal is, (for were't not so,
Corruption would take hold upon it too
As well as on its case: but all know this,
Th' immortal soul in age the stronger is;
The nearer that the body's to the grave,
The more advantages the soul will have:
And so diseases which the case controule,
Cannot corrupt, nor yet infect the soul.
So alwayes mark whilst from the Body we
By contemplation deep abstracted be,
The soul doth better shew her complement;
But much more when she's from the body rent:
As also by her large capacity,
And by her utter independency

On th' outer case: for leaving that sometimes,
Without that she transcurs the earthly climes,
And visits places; and them far more clear
Beholds than if she in the body were:
This history will justifie, but we
Will strive for to avoid prolixity.
If the soul's mortal, what doth make her love
despising mortal things to sore above,
And never tire? like unto like doth goe:
Which makes her thus despise all things below:
And to the Centre, out of which she came,
Sill upwards tend with an immortal flame.)
I say the soul doth prove a God to be
The cause of her: or else it follows she
I, of her self the cause; then should we know
All things that are more clearly than we do;
Knowledge nor understanding should we want,
Nor of ourselves, nor parts be ignorant,
Of which we are; our parent then should not
Be ignorant of what they have begot:
But how the cause and the effect can be
All one, as yet I have not eyes to see.
But to conclude what further proof indeed
Of God, than his great Providence doth need?
His providence in every thing? but yet
In plaguing those who him deny'd, and it
Especially? for such struck with his rod,
Have by their deaths made known there is a God.
PHERECIDES was eaten up with lice;
LUCIAN by's dogs devoured in a trice:
DIAGORUS from ATHENS banished,
A talent promis'd them who brought his head:
An arrow split the heart of JULIAN:
An ulcer killed scoffing APPION:
MACHIAVEL in prison rotted: and
HERMANUS felt the fire, and God's just hand:
It would be endless to recount them all:
But as they did may every ATHEIST fall!

Seeing that there a God immortal is,
It fellows then there are more Worlds than this;

For God's not seen here in this Orb below,
But as he doth himself in's Creatures show:
Indeed he dwelleth here, and every where,
Nor can he be confined to a Sphere,
But yet there is a world, a glorious place,
Where brightned souls behold him face to face,
Where he is seen cloath'd with Eternal Day,
Where vails and shadows all are ta'ne away:
Where Saints behold him in great glory stand,
Not vail'd as here, nor at the second hand.
Who so believes the sacred Scripture, must
Acknowledge needs that our assertion's just,
For that to take all scruples from us says,
God not one World, but Worlds created has.
I'le here not usher in with museful straines,
Th' exuberant fancies of some witty braines,
Who make the Moon a World to be, and who
Make Worlds of all the starres of Heav'n too:
Let such themselves and others to delude
With brain-built worlds, and worlds infinitude,
I'le not contest; GOD may do what he please;
But here I treat not of such worlds as these,
For I confesse I do believe there's four,
And never was, and never shall be more:
Three of these Worlds are infinite, but this
Grosse World both visible, and finite is.
It matters not unto Salvation,
Whether there be a thousand Worlds, or one,
Such Worlds as this I mean: but it is meet
That we should know those Worlds of which I treat,
For to be ignorant of these, is to
Ignore the blisses that we ought to know:
How vain is Man for fancy'd worlds to hunt,
And of himself be wholly ignorant!
These Worlds of which we treat no fancies be,
For to deny them is plain Blasphemy,
And of them to be ignorant, no lesse
Then to be ignorant of Happinesse:
These Worlds not disputable are, for we
Do by experience know such Worlds there be:

Therefore no longer will I prologize,
But clearly set them forth before your eyes.

Pray cast your eye upon the Figure, and
The order see in which the Worlds do stand:
See here four Globes, So stand the Worlds, but yet
Not in this order, as you see these set:
But to man's sense these figures do I guesse,
Their place and order best of all expresse.
Though once be higher than another plac't,
We call that highest, which is inner most:
Who can at one expose to perfect view
Whole and compleat, Shell, Skin, and Kernel too?
As in an Egg you see the outer shell,
In that the white, i'th white the yolk doth dwell:
As in an Onion first the outer skin,
Then several others folded are within
Its strict enfolding, which do presse upon
The heart, or centre of the Onion,
As several Circles one within another
Drawn, some are farther, some more near than th' other
Unto the Centre: So these Worlds display
Unto your understandings best you may.
So are they plac'd: The Centre of them all
We highest; the Circumference lowest call:
So see in Man his outward case doth hide
A noble Soul; Which doth more inward bide.
This outward World is as the crust, or shell,
In which the other Light, and Dark Worlds dwell.
This outward World, is the Circumference,
And farthest from the Centre; Life from whence
It doth receive: for from the inward this
Produced was Most plain, the punction is
Before the circle; and the Yolke before
The white or shell. But then you'l say this more
Containeth than those Worlds that brought it forth;
So this is greater than what gave it birth:
Those suffer no dimention can, nor lye
So comprehended: As the Sun the Skie
Contains you see; his rays and influence
Howbe't no bounds can close, they'r so immense.

As God's in heaven we say; yet every where;
So th' inward worlds in this world closed are:
Life floweth to the finger from the heart:
Man's soul's in man, and yet in ev'ry part.

Alas! How blinded are the souls of men,
Whilst here inclosed in their fleshly pen,
Whilst here in prison fetter'd fast they lye,
Whilst they all things judge by their outward eye,
They see this earth wherein they live, and so
That there's an earthly world they surely know:
Now other worlds some do believe there are,
The natures of these worlds; or how, or where
They be, most men ignore: for of the same,
They several fancies in their heads do frame.
For speak of heav'n, strait way they cast their eyes
Towards the blew seas of the Chrystal skies,
Beyond the same a most Majestick Court,
Whose bliss doth pass the bounds of all report,
Where all the Saints in brightnesse like the Sun,
Seated on Thrones; where every one a Crown
Possessing, praise, and Hallelujahs sing,
To God who there sits on the Throne as King,
They think there is; and that their souls must fly
Thorow the Welkin to it when they dye.
But speak of Hell, strait way their thoughts do go
Unto the Centre of the earth below,
Where they in their imaginations frame,
A Realm of Sulphur, Darknesse, Fume and Flame,
Where great BEELZEBUB as a King commands
The smooky Devils, and sulphurian bands.
Mistake me not, I do not here deny,
Nor Hell's, nor Heav'ns true locality;
But here in reference to those I speak,
Who carnally both hell and heav'n do seek,
And who know nothing, nor of Heav'n nor Hell,
But by report, as they hear others tell;
Accounting it impossible to know,
Or Hell, or Heaven, while they dwell below.
Such of themselves be wholly ignorant,
And the true sight of Hell or Heav'n they want;

How they two several Principles be, and
How different, they do not understand:
How they in one another dwell, and yet
A gulf eternal how betwixt them set.
The Summit of their knowledge is to know
The nature of terrestrial things below,
They are content, the other worlds should rest
Till they of this by death are dispossest;
But all such may miss of the blessed sphere,
Who know it not, nor be assur'd of't here.

Therefore we first will with this world begin,
Best known to man, this which he dwelleth in:
From whence we step by step, at last ascend,
Shall, to th' Eternal world, the farthest end;
Man must from this the lowest world get up
By the Internal worlds, unto the top
And summit of his joyes: the way shall be
Shewn in this book with perspicuity.
But man a while my purpose here supplants,
The chiefest of the earths inhabitants;
Of whom a word, for he's the principal,
And should be Prince, and King, and Lord of all.

The Microcosm, little world, or Man,
Containeth all the outward great world can;
Is it not strange, and wonderfull that such
A little thing as Man, should hold so much?
Man is a wonder, and Gods image divine,
(If truly Man) within his breast doth shine.
It is not head, arms, body, members fair,
That maketh Man; he rather may compare
Himself unto some beast in painted dress,
Except the inward do him Man express.
What difference is there 'twixt a man and beast,
(None sure at all, or little to be guest)
If't wan't for Reason, and an immortal spark,
Which hides it self within his hollow Ark?
This makes him Man, and like a man to act,
Which gon, he's like a beast in shew and fact.
A man hath sense, he eats, he drinks, he sleeps,
Wallows in pleasure, seldome measure keeps,

Subject to hunger, thirst, to heat, and cold,
Sicknesse, Diseases, and converts to th' Mould
Of which he's fram'd; and like to other creatures,
There perisheth his beauteous forms, and features:
All this the Beast doth; then we thus may say
The fairest Beast is made upright of clay.
Men that we see within the great Creation,
Lie wallowing in all abomination,
In filthy Lusts, contagious pleasures foul,
As if they never, never had a soul,
Are not such Beasts? yea perfect Beasts, or worse,
For Beasts (most commonly) follow natures course,
Their beastial actions, acting in sobriety,
When men fulfil their Lusts in all Impiety,
Acting most beastly in all foul inormity,
And worser then the brutes, in their deformity:
That were it not for this their outward case
In PLUTO'S Court they would usurp a place;
For when the outward body doth consume,
In Hell such take their Hell-prepared room,
Their souls there having some such shape, or hue
Of beasts, whose actions they inclined to,
Assuming there some hideous form, or feature,
Rarely resembling their deformed Nature.
Thus may you see within this outward place,
We're either Men, or Beasts: when here our race
Is run, we shall to the Tartarean den
Go if we beasts are, but to Heav'n if Men.
Man was a Man created, and a King,
And Lord, and Ruler over every thing,
But now that state h'as lost, for which he groans,
Having gain'd dunghils,, for his Crowns, and Thrones.
Now of a King he is a servant made,
Who once immortal, now to Death betray'd:
Therefore behold him pourtrai'd to thine eye,
See where himself, his Crown and Scepter lye,
The Lamb the Type of Innocency too,
(Which LUCIFER with ADAM overthrew)
Under the great and massy Globe of Earth,
As if deprived both of Life, and breath.

This is the fallen state of Man, who must
His Crown not unregarded in the Dust
Permit to lye, but, what some e'r it cost,
Strive for to gain the Scepter that he lost;
And tho he now lyes slain depriv'd of all,
Crush'd with the weight of this terrestrial ball;
Yet shall this fallen Man at last arise,
And o're his now lost Kingdoms Regalize.
O man with joy expect this blisseful day,
Rouze up thy self, enquicken'd with the ray
Of life divine: Shake off this clogging Earth,
And strongly presse after another birth:
For that attained once, thou shalt be then,
As once thou wast, a Lord, and King agen.

In the Hieroglyphic see the lowest Globe,
Which represents this vast terrestrial Orb,
This World wherein we Live, this outward Earth,
Where we poor mortals draw a fading breath,
Where Souls immortal in a mortal case,
As in an Ergastule remain a space:
Which World's a mighty Prodigie; and those
Who it consider, in its Mazes lose
Themselves; for every thing perspicuously
The power shews of Heav'ns High Majesty.
How admirable is her Form, and Nature!
How beautiful, and well compos'd each Creature!
How full of beauty, and of Lovelinesse!
How sweetly, brave is she in Nature's dresse!
So that the eyes of man do dote upon her,
And Highest Trophies raise unto her honour.
How various and delightful are her climes!
Some smiling later, some bedress'd betimes;
Some wearing all the year a liv'ry green,
Some diversly with painted mantles seen,
While others dress'd in mantles made of snows,
Themselves (as 'twere) in silver garbs expose.
How variously delightful dressed is
Each clime, and Countrey with a native blisse!
How variously through ev'ry Region are
Her happy riches, and her costly ware,

Her helps and her commodities for Man,
Her treasures, and her pleasures too, which can
Delight her heart; spread by his bountious hand,
And all exposed unto his command.
Aspiring mountains here their heads do show,
Their pleasant dales, empal'd with woods below:
Here th'row the midst of them, the silver streams
Run trickling o're the stony pearly gems:
Here pleasant Hills adorn'd with lofty pines,
With Okes and Cedars; there the Elms and Vines
Sweetly embracing all the Hillocks side
Towards the East, fill with their branches wide.
Here stand the Laurels, with a verdant hue,
Here spreading Beaches, lofty Ashes too;
There by the Brooks grow brittle alder stems,
Willows and Sallows love the silver streams.
A thousand other trees here make a Grove,
Where the sad Turtle murm'ring wooes his love,
Where the sweet Nightingalls compose their layes,
Where other Songsters sing on several sptayes.
Praising their great Creator with their Notes.
Proceeding from their pretty warbling throtes.
Hard by are Meads in ammelled with flowers,
Cover'd with grass sprung from Zephyrian showers,
Where seems to be an everlasting spring,
Where Grashoppers in their shrill notes do sing;
Where feed the branched stag, the fair horn'd Ox,
The clambring Goats, the silver fleeced flocks,
The fair spread Mare, and the couragious horse,
Who kicks the rocks down with his heel's strong force.
Among the woods the several beasts of prey,
The roaring hests of their strong Prince obey:
The fowl Joves mighty Bird doth rule: Within
The Chrystal river several fishes swim,
And all these for the use of man were made
Good; who oft times converts them into bad.
About the Earth the liquid Ocean beats,
Scareing his sister with his boistrous Threats,
Athough she knows JEHOVAHS word is gone,
That she shall never drowned be ag'en,

Within whose liquid depths such wonders are,
As with the Earths or heavens may compare.
But round this Globe, with a vast azure bent,
Is bended round the starry Firmament,
Wherein the twinkling Lamps beday the nights,
Where are fixt, wandring, less and bigger lights:
There Cynthia ruleth Mistriss of the night,
With the clear splendor of her borrowed light;
The Sun day's King, and Lord of all the rest,
The clearest, hottest, brightest, and the best,
Begilds the day, and with a glorious splendor
His dayly service doth to mortals tender.
Thus hath the great Creator full of Love,
His wondrous blessings poured from above
Upon this world; that on this earthly stage,
Man comfort take might in this pilgrimage,
And not abuse them as most men have done,
And souls and bodies by them overthrown.
But if that now such outward bliss remains
After the change of Adams faulty stains,
What was the beauty and the comliness,
The splendor and incomparable dress
The Earth had when she from her Maker first
Came? e're that she was by his mouth accurst?
E're that she had put on inglorious weeds?
And cherished accurs'd and banefull seeds?

Should I lanch out into this endless main,
My shallow Barque could n're return again;
Such seas of water, and of wonder too
Appear, and shew themselves unto my view:
My eyes no objects on this earth do meet,
But they my globes do with their wonders greet,
For not the smallest fly, nor creeping Ant,
Do wonders, and what's admirable want:
So that I am amazed, and must cry,
Great is the power of his Majesty!
Great are the wonders that this Globe doth hold,
So great that they're not able to be told,
Therefore expect not at my hands, that I
Should open here Dame natures Mystery;

Or that the nature of all things below
I here should in this Epique Poem shew;
Or that I here the mighty wonders tell,
That in this Orb terrestrial do dwell:
This were an endlesse task; would Ages tyre,
Not Books of Worlds, but Worlds of Books require.
This would: for not the heat-born gnat, (in truth)
Or worm, but of 't deserve a Poem doth.

A glorious study 'tis to study Nature,
To read the great JEHOVAH in the Creature,
To meditate his mighty wonders here;
And Trophies to his Name thereby to rear:
The great Creator made all things that be,
For profit, pleasure, and commodity
Of man alone, therefore His holy Name
He ought to praise, and thank him for the same.
Let some therefore dive to Earth's Centre, and
The secrets of her bowels understand,
Let them her seal'd-up dores unbarr, and there
Her rusty Treasures brighten, and reclear:
Let such dive down into her depths below,
And the Arcana's of her Min'rals know;
Let them th'row ev'ry Room, and Chamber run,
And know the virtues of her central Sun,
Which with its Heat, pierceing th'row ev'ry room,
Gives life to seeds, sown in her vaster womb.
Let such behold her hidden Palaces,
Where sealed up lye hid her Mysteries,
There let them Tin, Ir'n, or pine, Stibium, Brasse,
Virmilion, Merc'ry, Lead, and Coperasse,
Copper, Letrargyre, Marble, Salt, and Jet,
View; and let them break up her Cabinet,
Where they with curious prying eyes, behold
May all her Mines of Silver, Steel, and Gold,
Her choyce of Rubies, Saphires, Calcedones,
Her Topaz, Opals, Emeraulds, Diamond's,
Her Carbuncles, her Amythists, her store
Of Turques, Crystals, and a thousand more:
Let them the virtues of the Load-stone see,
And all the Earths that Medcinable be:

Let them their secrets dayly meditate,
Through them God's name, and wonders predicate.

Let others on her superficies walk,
And thorow all her vegitables stalk:
Into Earths dainty garden-plats let them
Come and search out the vertues of each stem;
Let them the secrets of all simples know,
The vertues of all herbs, and flowers that grow:
Let them consider flowers fragrancies,
Their checquer works, and dainty diapres,
The Violets, the Roses and the Lilies;
The Pansies, Marigolds, and Daffodillies;
Th' admired Lotos: secret vertues given
To herbs and shrubs by the free hand of heaven.
Let Mugwort, Saffron, Burnet, Piony;
Swines-bread, St. Johns-wort, and Succory,
Madder, Angelica, and Bittany,
Lunaria, Hellebore, and Dittany,
With thousands more, whose vertues wonderful
Men into admiration justly pul,
Consider'd be: Then that which makes us bread,
And grain of all sorts be considered.
Then let them walk unto the spacious groves,
And see the Male-Palms, woo their female Loves,
View there the Peruanan Brasil, how
It peopled doth like to a Village show:
See there the Oak, the Maple, Ash and Vine,
The Elm, the Larch, the Cedar and the Pine,
The Indian Cocos, which supplies the lack
Alone both of the belly and the back,
The Corck, the Osier, Alder, Willow, Holm,
The Poplars, Beaches, Yews against a storm
Good for a shelter; and consider these,
The Natures and the Uses of the trees.
Then to the fragrant Orchards go, and there,
The Apple, Plum, the Cherry and the Pear,
The Apricock, the Oring, Quince and Beach,
The Limon, Feald-beard, Walnut that doth reach
It's head to Heav'n almost, the Olive, Date,
The Baulm, and Spice-trees, which are good to eat,

See (and admire the Hand of Providence)
Their Wonders, virtues, and their excellence.

Let others also view Earth's numerous guests,
And daily weigh the natures of the Beasts,
The Mysteries of Animals they may
And their hid virtues to the World display.
Let them traverse th' Hercanian Woods, and there
The shaggy Lion, and the cruel Bear,
The Elephant, Rinocerot, the Bore,
The Camel, Bull, Horse, Asse, a thousand more
Behold: and in black Chus his scorched plaines
Draw out the Serpents from the sandy draines:
Consider there the Basilisk they may,
Who through his eyes his poyson doth conveigh,
The scaly Dragon, spiteful Viper, the
Aspick, and Adder, and Tarantule,
Which puts the stung into a Capering fit;
Then call for Musick that's the cure of it:
Drynas, and Dispas, Scorpion, and Eft
Who tho but small, to kill can make a shift:
The Horn'd Cerastes, and the Crocadile
Who daily stuffs his mighty paunch in Nile.
And let them the Camelions various hue,
With worms, and flies, Bees, other insects too
Consider well, and let them then proclame
The virtues, and the Wonders of the same.

Again let others with industr'ous bent,
View, and review the other Element:
Peer into Rocks, and on the Mountains Top,
See mighty Rivers infant springs burst up:
And let them weigh (while others range the Woods)
The several virtues of the Crystal floods.
Let some behold the Cateracts of Nile,
Others the source of Tanais the while,
Some rapid Tigris, others Euphrates,
Ganges, and Plate, great Rivers rather Seas.
Tagus, and Rhyne, and Rhone, and Tiber too,
Arn, Sein, and Po, Ister, and Iber view,
Our silver Isis, which upon the main
Be'ing born, smels, purges, and grows sweet again.

Th' Effects and Operations then Recount
Of the day cold, and the Night-scalding fount:
Of Athamas whose cold, and Crystal Flood,
Gives living flames unto the drenched Wood.
Or Silarus, or the Ciconian streames
That wood convert to solid stone it seems.
Or the Arcadian Well, of which who drinks,
All other waters, yea wine loathsome thinks,
Also Lincestus who drink much of it,
Do reel like Drunkards in a drunken fit.
A thousand more scarce credible: and then
The medicinable waters good for men:
The Bathes of Bathe; Bangers in Gascony,
And Bajæ famous once in Italy.
Then to their Fish-boat, with their tackle try
To draw from Brooks the Silver-coated fry,
The speckled Trour, the Barbel, Tench, and Ele,
The dainty Salmon, Cherin, Lampry, Seile,
And many more: Then hoist into the Seas,
Where great variety their minds may please;
Where they as many several wonders view
May, as in th' Earth, and airy Regions too.
Th'row NEPTUNE'S wat'ry Regions let them go,
To THETIS Coral-garnish'd Court below.
There let them view the shrubs, the Trees, the Pearls,
The Syrens, Mearmaids, Tritons with their shels,
And all the Fishes that do daily sport
Themselves within great NEPTUNE'S liquid Court.
There they may Philanthropic Dolphins see,
The Whirle-Pool Whales, the terrour of the Sea
Leviathans; the Sturgions, Amia's,
The Cuttles, Tunnys, Prawnes, and Remora's,
The Pearl-Fish, Oysters, Sargus, Cantharus,
The Mullet, Herring, Uranoscopus:
With many more, which in that Region swarm,
Of sund'ry sizes, qualities, and Form.
There they the qualities of the Sea to know
May strive; how it doth daily ebb, and flow,
Its virtues, properties, how like a Lover
The Earth embraces, and yet flows not over:

And seeing these Arcana's of the flood;
May preach the wonders, praise the Name of God.

Also let others winged th'row the air,
Propitiously their noble courses steer,
And let their constant minds be dayly bent,
Upon the wonders of that Element:
There they may ransack every cave and house,
That doth belong to boistrous Æolus.
The several Regions of the air they may,
With Hails, and Snows, and Rains, and Frosts display,
With Dews and Comets, Exhalations, Thunder,
Mists, Blasts and Fumes, and Lightnings full of wonder.
They too consider may when they are there
The winged people of the moving air:
Up to the Eagles Eyrie may they run,
And see the Eaglets face, the dazling Sun,
Scorning to wink, for by this certain sign,
Fowles Prince knows that her brood is genuine.
Thence to the Arabian spicy woods they hast
May, and behold the Phænix in her nest,
The Whilst her spicy bed begins to burn,
And her consumeth in her fragrant urn;
Straight way the ashes in her dainty Tomb
Take life, and so the grave becomes the womb
Of a new Phænix, from whose ashes rise
Another Phænix shall when e're she dyes.
The unkind Estridge on th' Arabian plain,
Beating her plumes against the wind in vain,
Who cannot mount as other fowl, that fly
Within the liquid bosom of the skie;
Behold; and see Queen Juno's stately Bird,
Her train extending high at every gird:
The brustling Turky, and the crested Cock,
The Huswife's watch, the sturdy Plow-mans clock.
Then see the Crane, the Stork, the Pellican,
The Cormorant, the Hern, and silver Swan,
The Halcyon, the bird of Paradise,
That never touches ground untill she dies,
The Griffin, Faulcon, Laner, Marlin, Kite,
The Swift, and Swallow that renews the sight

Of her blind young with Selandine: the Pie,
The Lark and Finch, and many more that fly
Within the Air's fair region: Here they may
The secret vertues of them all display.
And seeing here the wonders of the Lord,
His Name and Praises trumpet may abroad.

Lastly, let others free from earthly cares,
God b'ye bid to the earth, and view the stars.
Where with fair pinions fluttering along,
The Azure dwelling of that numerous throng,
They may behold the Roods, and several Inns,
Of the sev'n Planets, and the twice six signs.
There they the Coach may of the day's bright Prince
Follow, and view's course, and circumference;
His flaming and swift steeds quotidian race,
His twelve fair lodgings in his annual space:
How he the seasons of the year createth,
How now the dayes length, now the nights length bateth.
There they fair PHEBE, horned now, e'r long
Filling her Orb with light grow fair, and young
Again, may see; her divers aspects, and
How when at full eclipsed understand:
How nimbly tripping in a swift carere,
The heav'nly Zodiack twelve times in a year
She passes. Thence to Mercuries sphere they go
May, and behold his annual motion too,
Who waiting on the Chariot of the Sun,
Spends almost twelve-moneths e'r his race is run.
Thence mounting higher they behold the fair,
And splendid Venus, now the evening star,
Sometimes again, with most resplendant rayes,
And matchless beauty sh' ushers in the days.
Thence still ascending viewing Phæbus sphere,
They may behold him measure out the year;
And how he doth years several seasons cause,
Spring at's approach, Winter when back he draws;
Summer and Autumn, when his jorneys made
Th'row Cancer, and when with the Virgin laid.
Thence to the angry God of War they go
May, and behold his sphere, and journey too,

Which e'r he't finish'd th'row the Houses has,
Three Sommers, and as many Winters passe.
Then to the Sphere of Jupiter they wenn
May, and behold his Chariot of Tinn,
Which twerling th'row the Zodiack, doth runne
Four trines of yeares e'r't doth to Pisces come.
Thence they to leaden Saturn may advance
Whose coursers slowly thirty yeares do prance,
E'r they can draw their heavy Car about,
And see the place from whence they first set out.
And thence to the eight Sphear; whose mighty bent
Contains the Host of the blew Firmament,
Whose vaster circuit, e'r it turns about
(Tho' swift) almost sev'n thousand years wears out.
Heav'n's glittering Zone next then they may behold,
Fringed with Silver, and embos'd with Gold,
Wherein twice six most glorious Figures stand,
Exactly wrought by an Almighty Hand:
March his brave Ram, and April's Bull that brings
Upon his horns the garland of the springs:
Th' embracing Twins; The Crab that first doth show
Fair Sommer's presence with a swetty brow:
Then rampant Leo, who with burning breath
Scorcheth the Planes, and green Woods withereth.
The Virgin next who smiling doth appear
To crown the Plow-man's Hopes for all the year.
The Ballance then beaming with splendour bright
The æquidistance weighs of Day, and Night.
The Scorpion, Centaure, Kid, and Skinker shine,
The Fishes too, a wet and Winter sign.
Turning their heads then to the Artic pole,
They may behold the monstrous Dragon roule,
And with his starry tail, the Wain-man; there
The Crown, the Harp, the Eagle, and the Spear
The Snake, the Swan, and flying Pegasus;
Andromeda, and her dear Perseus,
Casiopeia, and the Dolphin, and
Medusa's Head, and Cepheus do stand.
Then to th' Antartic turn they may, and view
Where the hot dog-star, and Orion too,

The Whale, the Whelpe, the Hare, the Hulke, and the
Raven, Wolfe, Fowl, the Boule and Hydra be:
The Crown, the Fish, and other starres beside,
Most plainly by Astronomers descri'd.
There also may they with a mind intense
Consider all the Twincklers influence
On th' Orb below, and how they often change
Mens minds, and manners, in a manner strange.
How pleasant meeting in conjunction smile;
How frowning opposite another while:
Heav'n is God's Book, the Starres are letters that
Himself so fair with his own finger wrot;
Wise Men can read them; ignorants indeed
Do 'count them Ciphers, 'cause they cannot read:
Wise Men alone do rule the starres, but they
Else cause both Man, and Beast their Laws obey:
Who vieweth thus th' Arcana's of the Sky,
Glory may give to Heav'n's High Majesty,
But let us not unmindful be of Man,
Who harbours Wonders in his outer frame;
Tho Worlds he hold, That to the outer Sphear
Doth answer, therefore to be mention'd here.
Let therefore some anatomize him, and
His Bodys inner parts well understand.
There in them see the purple springlets draine
From Life's true Centre thorow every vein:
The spungy Lungs, the bellows of the Breast,
The stomach Cook by whom the food is dres't;
The which prepar'd, by the Misentric's sent
Unto the Liver for its nourishment,
Where, in a short space all the juicy flood
Dy'd, is converted into Crimson blood,
From whence, as Rivers from the Fountains Head's,
It by the veins th'row all the Body spreads.
Descending lower let them view at leasure,
The Guts fine labyrinth the Bellie's Treasure.
But e'r they thus dissect him, let them see
His comely features, and Limbs symmetry,
See the fair capital of this structure, stand
On a Cylindric pillar to command

The rest: His spacious Front the Throne of Aw,
And Majesty: His eyes that homage draw
From other creatures, like two Twinklers bright
Sparkling, and streaming with clear Rayes of Light,
Stand placed under two fair arc's of Hair;
These with two lidds from harm defended are,
That with a double guard of slender pikes,
Keeps off th' offensives that the Eye dislikes.
See then the Conduits of the Head: likewise
Two blushing Mounts that in his Face arise;
The Ruby portals of a pearly gate,
The Mill and grinder of the body's meat.
The Tongue words former, and the mazey Ear
Through which he doth the formed voyces hear.
His Hands the body's Purveyors, his Knees,
His Legs, and Feet the Basis unto these;
For tyes the sinue, ligaments the Nerve,
And bones for Beams, do in this building serve.
But most of all, who'l not admire at
His speech, the nimble Tongue's uncessant chat?
Words they are wonders, in the Head created,
Then by the tell-tale Tongue aloud related.
His Wit, and Memory are admirable,
For to recount whose Wonders none are able.
Mechanics, and the Mathamatics too,
And almost all things in the World, do shew
The mighty wonders of Man's pregnant Brain:
The Muses, and Apollo's wits it drain
Would, should they go about but to recount
The same: indeed they Number do surmount.
But whosoe'r Contemplates Man, may see
The matchlesse Wisdom of Heav'n's Majesty.

These are the Seas of endlesse Wonders, where
God's admirable power doth appear,
For who-soe'r into these depths doth go,
Shall the Creator's Wonders see, and know,
Into which Seas infinitude I fear
So slender' vessel as mine own to steer:
Nor am I suffer'd now (to swell my verse)
These things (although Arcana's) to reherse:

Nor yet Geography's fair Lists to enter,
Fair EUROP'S limits, or great ASIA'S Centre,
To speak of, or to tell what bounds do close
Scorch'd AFRICK, AMERICA, what Seas.
To say what River, Mountain, Lake, or Ground,
O Seas, do such, and such a Countrey bound.
To tell each soil's abundant fruitfulnesse,
Its divers properties, and various dresse:
To say where grows the sweetest Grain, and where
Best wine; what Lands best Hemp, and cordage bear:
What Countrey Timber, Cattel, Silk, and Lead
Yeelds; Where most Mines are, where best Horses bred:
The Countreys temp'raments; the peoples manners,
Religion, Laws, Rites, Customs, Habits, Honors.
These things I leave to others to reherse,
They come not here in compasse of my Verse,
For should I lanch into so vast a Main,
My slender Barque could ne're return again;
Although indeed all these be Wonders great,
They are not those of which I mean to treat.

Fill'd with a fire that now inflames my Soul,
That with strong ardors, in my Breast doth roul,
That fill's me with a sacred rage, and beares
Me from the Earthly into mystic Sphears,
I write; Know therefore this World two-fold is,
Fill'd with a curse, and yet retains a blisse;
Full of deformity, and uglinesse.
Though washed over with an outward dresse;
And yet there is a part that doth indue,
The Robe of happinesse, and beauty too.
In one part stand great BABEL'S lofty Towers,
SODOM'S profane, and ÆGYPT'S wicked Bowers,
Where LUCIFER triumphs, and raignes as King,
In's Throne of Evil, and his Court of Sin;
Sorrow, and Care, Labour, and Toyl, and Swet,
Trouble, vexation, round about him set.
Here SATURN'S Lord, (though 'tis by usurpation)
Here he committeth spoil, and devastation;
Here his great Princes, with their Hellish art,
His Stygian Vice-Royes, govern each a part,

Who here maligning mortals happinesse,
Do cause them one another to distresse.
Here bloody wars, the stained Campaine spread
With mangled Limbs, and Bodies butchered:
Here is the Chrystal, turn'd to Crimson flood,
Distained with the gore of humane blood:
Here thousand Orphans, thousand Widows stray,
Here thousand Captives chain'd are led away.
Here Famine rageth, here contagions spread,
That scarce the Living can interr the Dead:
Here sicknesses, and all diseases are,
Here miseries, unhappinesse, and care.
Here also all the sinnes in order range,
Provoking all Men for to take their swinge:
Here avarice, here cruelty, and here
Lusts, murthers, rapines, drunkennesse appear,
Here Ryot, Luxuries, and wantonnesse,
Here also pinching, scraping, and excesse,
Deceit and cheating have their Residence
Within the vast Realms of this mighty Prince;
Within the circuit of great BABYLON,
Where mighty LUCIFER has pitch'd his throne:
Where like a Prince (and like a Lion stout
For's prey) he walks his Countrey round about.

In th' other part of this great Universe
(Which mask'd to mortals yet true beauty wears)
JERUSALEM, and blessed SION stand,
With famous Eden, and the Holy-Land,
Fair Paradise; felicites bless'd site,
Where pleasure, and unwearied delight
Where Plenty, Peace, where Justice, Righteousnesse,
Where Truth, Love, Piety, and Happinesse
Dwell sweetly link'd, There still a springing green,
And constant verdure, sans decay is seen.
No Winters blasts, no stormy Rages there,
No wars, nor cruel Discords once appear:
No vices Vipers brood, no blood, nor murther,
No cheats, deceits, no Rapines, nor disorder,
No Lusts, nor avarice, nor base impiety,
No cursing Men, blaspheming of the Deity,

No Oaths, nor Rancor, no injustice, nor
Ambition, Envy; Stimula's to war,
Can there approach: here only dwels community,
Peace, Meeknesse, Love, Truth, Wisdom, Joy, and Unity.
Here King of this part sacred Jesus sits,
Who to his Vice-Roys also parts commits,
The holy Angels; under whose command
They with impartial Justice rule the Land,
And for the good of mortals still expose,
Their vigor to the Rigour of our Foes,
Our Stygian foes, who, were it not for them,
From th' Earth would quickly root the mortal stemm.
All that both good, and blessed doth appear,
All that's delightful, or contentful here,
All that is beautiful, or doth delight
With hurtlesse pleasures, both our heart, and sight,
Proceedeth from the Happy Influence
Of this part of the world: Likewise from thence
Proceeds our health (mortals chief wealth) content,
Blisse, Joy, peace, concord, and true Blandishment.
All that both Evil, and accursed is,
All that is ugly, and all bane to Blisse,
All that is hurtful, poyson, sicknesse, death,
All discords, wars, infections, jarrs beneath,
On th' other side comes from the Influence
Of that part, where inthron'd sits Hel's black Prince.
Now were That gone, this Earth an Hell would be,
And were not This here we 't an Heav'n should see:
So that this Eart'hs a medly, checquer'd still
With black, and white, compos'd of Good, and Ill.

The darker part, where Sathan rules, doth here
Perspicuously to mortal eyes appear
Th'rowout the world; and blessed Paradise
Obscur'd by clouds, is hid from mortal eyes,
And as it were triumph'd upon, and fled
From th' Earth, and thence for ever banished.
What said I, hence for ever banish'd? No,
I must recant, and if I did say so,
For filled now with a prophetic Rage,
My Life, and all that's dear to me engage

I dare, I will; that Sathan's tumbling down,
And shall bereft be both of Rule, and Crown.
E'r long; this Earth so long the Stage of Hell,
Love's blessed influence e'r long shall feel:
Chere Saints, and tremble all you wicked crue,
A Day of blisse, of sorrow, be to you
It shall. Chere Hearts Night's sable blacks are gon,
And fait Aurora now begins to dawn:
Turn to the East your long-expecting eyes,
And see this Sun in his bright lustre rise;
His Kingdom then no longer shall be hid,
Nor under clouds of darknesses abide,
None then shall say, where is this Kingdom, where
This Paradise? for then it shall appear
In all its lustre th'row the Earth, and then
Jesus alone shall raign the King of Men.
Nothing but Peace, and Righteousnesse shall flow,
With Joy, and Blisse, and all content below:
Then shall JEHOVAH'S gracious will be done
On Earth, as now in Heav'n by every one.
For this end was the Earth created: shall
The end not be (for which God made this ball)
Effected then? for hitherto we see,
The Devil King was of this Globe, not he:
But now he shall be King alone, with shame
Hell banish'd Earth: I A TRUE PROPHET AM.

But now my thinks your words assault mine ear,
Where's Paradise? desirously you quære.
In what by-corner of the Earth it stands?
Whether in Peru? or by Ganges sands?
Whether it under the Antartic lyes?
Or where the Riphean snowy Mountains rise?
In what place lyes this blessed part, which is
The Realm of Joyes, and the state of Blisse?
We know that once (five thousand years ago)
It was where rapid Euphrates doth flow:
But where it ever since has hid its head,
Into what Kingdom, or what Countrey fled
We do not know. I'le tell you then where lyes
The happy Regions of bless'd Paradise.

To find this place, you need not cut the seas,
You need not travel to clear Euphrates;
You need not passe th' Arabian sands; nor go
Over the craggy Alpes uneven brow:
Nor visit TEMPES fragrant bosom, nor
Th' Atlantides, nor other Regions; for
Tho' round the world you go; search every Creek,
And ev'ry Land, and every corner seek
Of this great Universe, your labour lost
May be, and you reap pains for all your cost.
Know then that it in every Land doth lye,
But yet the place none but the Wise can 'spy:
Vails double dy'd in pitch are thrown thereon,
And yet it is as naked as the Sun.
Th'row out the world it is, and seems to be
Fast link'd unto the other part of the
Great World; but yet an endlesse Gulf remains,
Between this Land of Blisse, and that of stains.
Rivers they are not, that do bound this Land,
Nor massive Mountains, that do justing stand:
Nor Woods, nor Heaths, nor Planes, nor Hils, nor Seas,
Nor Groves, nor Vales, nor Piles, nor Pales, nor Trees
This place from th' other part of Earth divide:
Nor yet doth it in Caves, or Vallies hide
It self; nor doth between the Mountains lye,
Whose craggy tops aspiring touch the sky:
It's wall is fire, which bounds it round about,
Which keeps the wicked, and unrighteous out:
It's Janitor, or Centinal doth stand,
Arm'd with a flaming weapon in his hand;
But (without clouding it) it in a word;
A mighty Cherub only has for guard.
As Day dwels in the shadows of the Night,
As darknesse doth involve the splendid Light,
As the bright flame lyes hidden in the coal,
So lurking lyes this holy place in all
The Universe: So lies Jerusalem
And SION clouded are with Babylon,
But yet the Gulf 'twixt them's as great, I say;
As betwixt Light, and Darknesse, Night, and Day:

For tho, in one another hid they be,
They yet together cannot stand you see;
For when the Darknesse spreads its wings, the Light
Flyes: So bright Day doth chase away the Night.
When Night comes she involves the shining Day;
When Day comes it hides Night within it's Ray.
Thus dwell the Principles in one another,
Thus Hell, and Heaven blended are together,
Thus is the Good part of the Earth hid in
The Evil part, the spacious Realm of sin.

Then wonder not if I to you relate
That while you dwell in Babylonish state,
In midst of Babel, and her wickednesse,
Priding your self in all her whorish dresse,
Your next near neighbour (in the world's account)
May dwel upon thrice sacred SION'S Mount,
And in bless'd Paradise: for tho he may
In Night seem, He in Night has found the Day.
He plows, he sows, he reaps the Earth; so you
The Gleab do plow, sow, reap, and husband too,
But yet your aym, and end, and his infers
He is God's Stuart, you are Lucifers:
From several principles you act, and he
Is in the second, in the first you be;
He dwells in EDEN, and JERUSALEM,
But you in Ægypt, and in Babylon.
Thrice happy is the Man, that thus hath found
In midst of Babel this thrice hallowed ground.

The purest Chrystal, nor the whitest snow,
Nor candid'st Lilies, fairest flowers that grow,
Nor splendid Phœbus, nor the nitid ayr,
Nor shining Phœbe half so bright, nor fair,
Nor half so pure, nor immaculate
Are as the Soul of this great World: yet that
Before Man fell, lesse pure, and divine
Than Man was, and under his feet did shine.
But since he joyn'd with it, and by it fell,
He gave admittance also unto Hell,
And its Magia to infect it, so
That man by it is oft made subject to

Hel's Prince, and Law: for whilst he in this Room
Of flesh remains, he's easily o'recome
By the World's spirit: Sathan wholly bent
To mischief Man, makes it his instrument,
So that, what's pure of it self he still
Distaines, and so converteth Good to Ill.
Heav'n also for the good of man doth use
The same; for by the same he doth diffuse
External blessings, Wisdom, Wit, and Wealth,
Riches, and Honors, Plenty, Pleasures, Health;
But this more plainly shall explained be
VVhere we speak of the Good, and Evil Tree.

I do admire that man should ignorant
Be of this great World's Soul; so greatly want
The true sight of't, being so nearly he
To it is fastned by a Sympathie:
For's outward body cometh from that womb,
That very LIMYS, whence this Earth did come:
Being that by the same such strange things brought
May be to passe, such mighty wonders wrought;
Such miracles of Nature shewn: For by
The same he may do wonders, Prophesie,
Be by infusion Learn'd in Tongues, and Arts,
And thousand others which this Sp'rit imparts,
In so much that amazed Man has thought,
The Devil only such great things had wrought.
For not the Devil as most men suppose,
But this world's Seal those Oracles inclose
Did of the Heathen; So the Sybills, So
The Druids did what came to passe foreknow:
And to those Priests fill'd with Prophetic rage,
By the same Sp'rit did future things presage.
So famous actions, done by Ganges strand,
The same day known in the Ausonian Land
Were, and might well be, by this Sp'rit made known,
As what on all parts of our body's done
We at the instant know; this world's Soul so
What's done in any part of th' Earth doth know,
And so impart the same to Mortals may;
And Wonders, which I mention not, display:

And all this by Man's close conjunction
With this great Spirit (not the Devils) 's done.
Yet I confesse that oftentimes the Devil,
That great Imposter, Father of all evil,
Hath had his Oracles, and Prophets too,
That he thereby might his dark Magic shew,
From whence much ill produc'd was: So that all
Count him the Father of what's Magical.

Now to this World's great Spirit there belong
Of Spirits an innumerable throng,
Which only to this outer world pertain,
With it created, and shall dye again
When it's dissolv'd: These nothing have to do
With those black Spirits that are subject to
Hell's horrid Prince; and different from those
Whom the Prince of the lighter Orb hath chose
To be's peculiar servants. These controul
Doth (being its Instruments) the great World's Soul.
Of these, some in the fiery Element
Inhabit; some within the azure bent
Among the starres: And others daily sport
Within the flameing Rooms of Vulcan's Court:
Such are within Vesuvius's sulp'ry womb,
And great Enseladus's fiery 'tomb:
Such in flame-belching Propochampech sport;
Such cause the noyses in Mount Heclesort;
Where flakes of fire, and black stinking smoke,
The Countrey round for many Leagues do choke;
Where hammers noyse, and Cyclop's strokes like thunder,
Till all that dare, go hear the same with wonder.
Others there be, which do their nests prepare,
Within the tepid bosom of the Ayr:
These are swift Curriers who with news can go,
And things transport from Ganges, unto PO:
These are those airy birds that soon can bear,
Your whisper'd Treason unto Cesar's ear,
These, these are those muster'd by higher hands,
That in the aire's clear Region shew their bands.
Where skirmishing in battel's order, shew
Warrs future evils, and events to you:

Such Germany, and our dear Albion has
Seen just before dire warrs have come to passe.
Some dwell within the caves of Æolus:
Some likewise dwell in dropping Auster's house:
Some ride upon the back of Taurus; some
From Western Seas with sweet Favonius come:
Some on the wings of blustring Boreas ride;
And some sweet Zephe's fragrant blasts bestride.
Others love Neptune's Courts, and Theti's Lap:
Others themselves in Chrystal Rivers wrap,
Such was that Triton, who met Cæsar on
The sedge-fring'd Bank of rapid Rubicon:
And bravely sounding his recurved shell
Presag'd good Fortune: which to Cæsar fell.
Others in Fountains have their habitations;
Others in Lakes, sporting in inundations:
Some love the River, some a stinking Pool.
Some clear-spring'd Jordan; some Asphales foul;
Some stinking Lakes, which as Mæotis love;
Some likewise never from Avernus move.
So some the lesser Rivers, some the Great
Do chuse (some wander) for a constant seat.
Some to the Earth belong, and these abound
In numbers great, or on, or under ground.
The subterran, within their hidden den,
Hide treasures from, sometimes disclose, to Men:
Sometimes such move the Treasures that they hide,
Sometimes by these are Mines, to Men deny'd.
Sometimes great treasures they disclose; anon
To durt convert them, or thence steal ag'en.
Others: which on the Earth do dwell, some Love
The Rocks, and Caves, and some the shady Grove;
Some Woods, & Trees: some stones, some fields, some Planes,
Some Vales, some Hills, some Marshes, Meadows, Draines.
Some in Islandian Hecla love to lye,
Others in Hechelberg to roare, and cry.
Some one place, some another Love, but all
Are frequent almost throughout all the Ball.
Some love for to converse with men, but some
More solitary rather'd have their Room.

Some also love among the dead to be,
Church-yards and Tombs do best with such agree:
I do not mean those shapes of Men that walk
About Church-yards, or bloody feilds do stalk,
For these are th' astral bodyes of dead men,
Which to the earthy fain would joyn agen,
But these dissolving, those are forc'd to die,
And to the chaos whence they came to fly.
Now some of these have bodies, others none,
Some borrow shapes, some shapes have of their own,
Some are great Lords, and Princes, others are
Servants to them: some peace, and others war
Do cause: some govern Cities, Countries large,
Some have a greater, some a lesser charge.
Some they are oft, some they are seldome seen:
Some meerly mortal, at a certain time
Die as the Beasts, and to their Æther go;
Some 'bide so long shall as the world shall do;
Who then shall, with the soul of this great world,
Into the womb from whence they came de hurl'd.

By these Arcanas deep are oft made known
To men, and secrets of this world are shown:
Farther they search not, for their skill doth lie
In knowing solely this worlds Mystery.
There lyes their Essence. But the Devils can
The dark world's secrets and the Outer's scan:
And so the Angels know their own, and this
World; 'cause their Essence in them hidden is.
But man compos'd of all the worlds may know
The things of this, the light, and dark world too.
A thousand Myst'rys here disclos'd might be
Fetch'd from these knowing spirits treasury;
And would man dive into their depths, he there
Sould find great secrets, and Arcana's rare
Concerning (only) this great world: But I
Do man advise a lof'tier flight to fly,
And not into this out-world's Magick quære;
For noble Man's not born a subject here,
But this world's spirit to command, and so
Should from a higher Magick all things know.

Magick is threefold: this world's natural,
Sacred the light, dark, diabolical:
Great is the Magic of this world, but yet
Greater the dark, the light more great than it.
When this worlds secrets, Man knows from the light,
He knows the Magic of this world aright,
But otherwise he deals preposterous,
Lets go a Jewel; doth a bauble choose.
As it unlawfull is for man, for to
Investigate the dark world's Magic; so
He leave this lower Magic should, and strive
To gain what it through Adam did deprive
Him of; for 'twas the Magic of this orb
Which clothed Adam in his fleshly garb.
Let man therefore wisely investigate
The ancient Glory of his pristine state,
And through the Magic of the light worlds see
This world's Arcana's, and grand Mystery.
The Heathen that advantage had not, as
Through mercy now the holy Christian has,
For Christ our Saviour hath thrown down the Wall
Which wrath erected had through Adams fall,
Which bard us from the secrets of that place,
Illuminated by our Saviours face,
And gives free leave unto the Holy-wise,
Adams lost Magic now to reagnize:
Through which, true-man may able be to know
Th' internal Worlds, and this worlds secrets too.

This is the true and safest way to see
Into the Magick of this world, and be
Acquainted with all its Arcana's, for
Through ignorance great danger else incur
You may. Satan that great Impostor, that
Doth for to mischief Man all times await,
With higher Magic can deceive you soon,
And by the world's sp'rit can procure your ruin.
Since he (through Adams fall) within this Sphere
Has got a place, he doth so dominere,
That to his will he bowes this Magic, and
Makes this worlds spirits follow his command;

So that all mischief that these Spirits do
The Man, the Devil doth enforce them to.
One skil'd in the dark-Magic can do more
Then he who's skil'd in this World's, but before
Them both is he who in the Light-World's skil'd:
By him the plottings of the Devil's spil'd,
He cann't deceived be, to his doth bow
This World's deep Magic, and the Devil's too.
He then this World's whole Host of Spirits, and
The dark World's too, shall have at his command,
Inferiors bow unto Superiors shall:
This out World's Spirits passive lye to all
Both Dark and Light Magicians, so that they
Sometime the dark, sometime the Light obey.
Let Christians therefore the true Magic gain,
And nothing hidden from them shall remain:
Then without danger to deceived be
By Hell the myst'ries of this World they'le see.
For this end Jesus (at whose mighty Name
All evil spirits bow their Heads for shame,
And fear) beholding Sathan's Subtleties,
How he by this World's Spirits, injuries
To Man did do; has them restrained, so
That they appear not as they're wont to do.
To him they bow'd, where e're he came their heads,
And ever since where his bright Gospel spreads
They're not so frequent; for the glorious Rayes
Of it, with splendor doth them much amaze.
In former time the Heathen swallow'd were
More into th' Spirit of this outer Sphear,
Then men are now (and yet more wickednesse
Abounds now in the World, I do confesse,
Because Hell's Centre now is open'd more
Within this World, than e'r it was before,
Because the wrath of God's more irritated,
Because through Light our sinnes are aggravated)
Therefore these Spirits were more frequent then:
Appear'd to, and conversed more with Men.
Men now more near conjoyn to Hell; therefore
They Men frequent not as they did before:

Not now by Vice-Roy's, but now Hell commands
In person, and in their Hearts Centre stands.

The Devil like a subtle Captain deals,
Who from 's Foe's actions still advantage steals,
And strives to make his Foe's brave Policies,
Prove helps to him, to himself injuries:
Sathan perceiving the high hand of Heaven,
For to restrain the power it had given
To Spirits, and that now they in this Sphear
Did not, as they did formerly appear,
He strait suggests to Man that there are none,
And so to think a vain opinion
Makes him believe it is: Through which sad Evil
He might induc'd be to believe no Devil,
And so no Hell, nor Heav'n; for by this mean
He hopes Atheism to bring in again,
That he Mens souls might get: But who believe
This great Impostor, do themselves deceive.
Laugh not at Fairies, Pigmies, Gnomies, Sylfes,
Melosinæ, Sylvestres, Syrens, Elfes,
At Lemures, Neuferan, Diamæ,
At Nymphs, Penates, Durdales, Undenæ,
For name them what you will, or as you please
Baptize them, there such Spirits are as these.
As likewise Planetary Spirits, and
Such as do Places, and the Winds command:
With thousand other mundane Spirits, that
God did, when he did this great World create,
But, who their Power, and Mysteries would know,
May to Agrippa, and Trithemius go.
But ah, how many scoff at Spirits, and
Deride the things they do not understand!
For more then ever Hell in this Prevailes,
That Truth's are 'counted old-Wives idle Tales.

You self-conceited, who so slyly jere,
'Tis happy for you Spirits disappear:
That God (for to convince you) don't affright
You, with the horrors of Æternal Night,
With those black shades sprung from the Stygian Sphear,
Which are (tho' unseen by you) conversant here.

You ignorants it is a sign you know
Scarce what belongs unto this world below,
Much less to those which from your blinder eye,
In vails of Pitch, and night enfolded lye.
Had I the Key that could your eyes unloc,
Had I the art to pull those Curtains back,
Or rub those scales off, which before them be,
You Truth, and Hell's black swarms at once should see:
You'd startle then into belief, and cry
We'l never more that Spirits are deny.

Beside the numberless spiritual throng
Which do unto this outer world belong,
Within the Region of this world there are
Vast troops which come from the internal sphere,
Both from the dark Tartarean Centre, and
From that Orb where doth Loves great Prince command.
Being this world of good and bad's compos'd,
Spirits both good and bad are here disclos'd,
For as these seek the hurt of man, so those
Their vertue to their venom do oppose.
Innumerable are the Sulphry swarms
Hell belches forth to cause poor mortal harms,
Vast teter Troops continually from thence
Are sent to fight the battles of their Prince,
Who ranging thorow out the world contrive,
How they may man of bliss and rest deprive.
Go count the motes that in the Sun-shine fly,
Go count the sands that on the shore do lye,
Go count the roleing billows of the sea,
Go count the stars that in the heavens be,
Number me these, and thou perhaps mayst tell
The Legions which do hither come from Hell:
Scarce is a place throughout this world so wide,
But where ten Millions of these spirits 'bide.
But now to match these evil spirits, come
There do as many, from the sacred womb
Of the Light-world; which sacred spirits do
Equal their numbers, and their powers too:
So that the world divided is betwixt
Them both, and of them good, and bad is mixt:

These seek to spill, kill, hart and destroy man;
Those comfort, please, ease, help him all they can.

Nay gaze not round so with thine outer eye,
As if thou mean'st to give this truth the lie,
And 'cause thou blinded can'st not spirits see,
T'affirm, and boldly swear that none there be:
You Linceus tell me canst thou see the wind?
If not, a spirit how that's more refin'd?
Winds blasts thou feelest, if not made of steel,
So spirits dire effects I'm sure most feel,
Although they ignorant may be from whence
Proceeds their felt (tho unseen) influence.
Nay spread not so thine hands, and arms abroad
Thinking to feel, and catch them, 'cause I said
They every where did stand; forbear, forbear,
Open thine hand, and see how much of air
Thou holdst; spirits can pass thy body thorow,
Lye in thy bosome, yet not felt by you.
Nay gape not so, nor snap at every blast,
As if thou spirits hadst a mind to taste,
For they into thy mouth themselves can put,
Its ruby gates, and strong porcullis shut.
Nor snuff the wind, as if thou meanest to smell
Them out, if near thee by the stink of hell,
To find them out thou surely now dost think,
By their sulphurious smell, and Stygian stink.
They can deceive thee with the sweeter air,
Or fume themselves in thy perfumed hair:
But hell, and all its stinks lye round about
Thee, yet thou sensless canst not smeel them out,
Nay prick not up thy ears to hear the noises
They make in going, nor to hear the voices
Of those that talk: they softly whisper, so
That thou not hear them canst; on wool they go;
They talk can by thee, (yet thou ne'er the near)
And never move the air unto thine ear.

We by our outer senses understand
Nothing, but what's compos'd of matter, and
Form, and what is corporal, and what
Not of a simple essence is, but that

Which of a mixture doth partake I wis:
Each Spirit of a simple nature is;
And therefore not t'our outer sences subject,
Except connexed to some outer object,
Where there is Matter, Form, or corporeity:
(Which not in Spirits, nor the sacred Deity
Are simply) Spirits to our outer eye
And th' other sences then do subject lye.
Mistake me not, that Spirits bodies have
I'le not deny: but these I do believe
Spiritual, and incorporeal are,
And of their Nature very much do share:
These also to our outward sences be
Not Subject. As I said the Deity
No form nor matter has: a body tho
It has, for Christ God's Body is we know.
Spirits not made of matter simply too,
Do bodies tho spiritual indue
Unto our inner sences they thereby,
Tho not t'our outer sences subject ly.

They therefore who acquainted are, with the
Internal Worlds, and their grand mysterie,
Whose sences are unlocked by that hand,
Which doth all sences, and all World's command,

Can Spirits see, and with Lincean eyes
Behold their Bodies, features, shapes, and guise:
Can also touch them, and their Bodies feel:
Can also tast them: and their scents can smell,
The Sulph'ry stinks, which from dark Spirits rise,
The sweet perfumes from those of Paradise:
Can, also hear the Angels sacred Songs,
The dark Worlds Cursings belch'd from fiery Tongues.
These are Arcana's, which I'l not rehearse,
Cause scoffers breathes shall not betaint my Verse:
Who these things see, see with enlightned eyes:
A word's enough unto the truly-Wise.
But go, unbelieving Thomas's, who sware
You will believe not that there Spirits are,
Except them with your outer eye you see,
Except they subject to your sences be;
Who scoff at the internal sences, and
Deride as whimsies what you understand
Not: Spirits can (such Sadduces to fear)
In outer Bodies and grosse shapes appear:
So that your Ear, your Nose, your Hand, your Eye,
May them both (plainly) hear, smell, feel, and spy.
No formes there be within great Tellus womb,
But Spirits (freely may and) can assume:
And Spirits never come in shapes that fright:
The Evil cann't assume the shapes of Light.
Some starry Halos still attends the Good;
Some dark unbrattic shade the Stygian brood:
Good Sp'rits still in humane shapes appear,
In star-like Lights, or brightnesses more clear
Than the third Orb's fair, and resplendant Queen;
Seldom in any other bodies seen:
The dark Orb's Spirits take an Humane garb,
Or any other shape within this Orb;
There is no creature 'mong the numerous swarm,
But they into its likenesse can transform
Themselves, and all such shapes assume, and use,
The which the Earth doth any way produce;
However most times they assume the feature
Or of some rav'nous, or some ugly creature.

But let good Spirits how they please appear,
Or in what'ever form, or figure here
Be manifest, a magic still attends
That doth distinguish them from Hellish Fiends,
They bring good news, are messengers of joy,
They clear from fear, from sadnesse, and annoy
The Seers hearts by their sweet presence, and
Do make them what they are soon understand.
But those dark Fiends of the Tartarean Den,
How e'r disguis'd strike horror into Men
By some hid Magic's secret influence
At the first sight: 'tis easie then from whence
They come to know; for tho, a sudden fear
The good may cause when they to men appear
Who'r unacquainted with them; recompence
That fear they do with a sweet influence
Which from their presence flows immediatly,
Which them doth ravish with its suavity.

Ask not what Taylor fits their fine array?
Or makes those cloathes, or gowns so fit which they
Appear in oft? or of what stuff they'r made?
Who dons their garments? How they are array'd?
They are self-Taylors, and self-helpers too,
And in a moment can all shapes indue.
Have they a mind for to be seen, they call
The Elements (who subject to their thrall
Do lye) unto their help: and then, of these
They form what Bodys (for themselves) they please,
But so compos'd that in a moment they
Can them dissolve, and soon disperse away.
Th' apt-to be-formed aire, doth matter yield
Fit for all shapes: for oft I have beheld
The hanging clouds sometimes a Horse to frame,
Then to a Lion, or a Dog the same
Convert, and so vicessively, to make
A thousand Forms, a thousand shapes to take.
So most times Spirits (when here seen) do shroud
Themselves within some grosse, and airy cloud,
Which they transform can to what shapes they please,
And then disperse them into ayr with ease:

For aire condensed will admit we know,
Colour, and Form, witnesse the clouds, and Bow.
Both Good, and Bad, the Elements can take
And of them for themselves fit bodies make,
The nimble Fire, the moistful Water, and
The Earth do subject lye to their command.
Dead bodies they can doubtlesse enter (that
Can them possesse when in a living state)
And e'r they'r rotten agitate them so
That they about (as if alive) may go.
Mouth, Arms, Legs, Tallons, and such members they
(Their force, and powers better to display)
Assume of a grosse substance: with their Hands
At once they fell a thousand armed Bands,
With their sharp tallons pierce the flesh, and beat
To dust the top of Taurus with their Feet.
With Swords, and such like instruments they slay,
Beat, strike, and wound, and fiercely chase away
Mortals sometimes: But doubtlesse they may these
Things do w'thout Armes, or members if they please.
But whensoever Spirits Bodies here
Assume, and to our outer Eye appear,
They put on such as may convenient be,
And with their inner Bodies best agree,
For look what shapes their inner Bodies have,
Such shapes, (if visibly appear) they crave:
I cannot better represent it than
Thus: Let a waxen Picture of a Man
Be made compleat, exactly like, and fit
And Hollow, let the Man then into it
Be put, the Picture's like the Man, but he
In it inclosed close you cannot see:
So Spirits when they 'ppear unto our eye
Their bodies cloath with visibility;
So that the outer forms the' assimulate
In all things answer their internal state,
But that those shapes our outer eyes may see,
These seen may only by our inner be.

But how should I this Volumn swell if that
I mention should what Histories relate!

Concerning those stupendious acts (which made
Men wonder much) of spirits good, and bad,
The title of which would swell too high for me,
And ask more sheets than in this book shall be.
So that I wonder much that men should grow
S'incredulous; think there's no Spirit, though,
Plenty of actions their beliefs might gain,
As not to judge the Melancholick brain,
Or phantasie to be the Father that
Did Acts of Spirits Good, and bad create.
So palpable they are that who denies
Them, may as well Histories Verities
Question in all things else. Perversity
Sticks not to give the Sun it self the Lye.

What were those spirits that Eubatis house
In Corinth haunted? What was that did use
For to disturb Pausanias his rest?
Or that who Nero did so much molest?
Or that which Otto terrifi'd? Or those
That us'd to sport about the shady brows
Of the sad grave of curs'd Caligula?
What was that ayr and pestilential Ray,
Which from Apollo's Fane at Babylon
Flew th'row the Earth, which was no sooner gon
From whence (it seems) it had been locked up,
But all the World drank Plague's infernal Cup?
And what were those so oft appear'd unto
Lancastrian, and Warbosian witches too?
What spirit Job tormented! What was he
Caus'd Sarah Raguel's Daughters misery,
Forcing her Grooms by Hymen crown'd at noon,
To passe the Ferry-boat of Charon soon?
I should want time to write, and you to read
Should I but mention every horrid deed
Of evil Spirits, which in History
Is noted: who shall doubt this verity?
But one I'le here recite, Niderius
His Pen the same made known hath unto us.

Upon the Confines of Bohemia lies
A Stygian Vale, where shady Mountains rise

Burden'd with aged trees, whose bushy heads
Fill th' under-lying Vale with horrid shades,
Denying Phæbus in the brightest Day
Leave amply there for to project his Ray.
Here every Night after that Sol was gon
To court Queen Thetis in the Ocean,
And that the horrid shaddows of the Night
With pitchy Vailes had muffled up the Light;
Hell and its Princes mustered their Forces,
Their bands of Foot-men, and their Troops of Horses,
And in disport to Exercise, and play,
Their Stygian Troops, imbattel'd in array,
They did divide, meeting with strange effort
Pel-mell they joyn'd, and skirmish'd thus in sport.
The Mountains eccho'd, and the Vallies rung
With the strange noises of this Stygian throng,
The ayr re-ratled with their Canons noyse,
Their armours clashing, and the horrid voyce
Of fighting, roaring, howling, hissing Fiends,
Like to the loud-mouth Thunder, when it rends
The tallest Cedars, and the strongest Rocks
With unresistible, and deadly knocks.
Here flakes of fire, here curled Clouds of Fume,
With Sulphur mix'd, and other stinks did come
From out the Vale, as if that Ætna there
Had spet his fiery entrals in the ayr,
And by and by they such a yell would send
As if at once they Heav'n, and Earth would rend:
Pompey and Cæsar on the fatal Plaine
Of Pharsalia, or great Tamerlaine,
And Bajazet, great Alexander, and
Darius who all Asia did command
Met with lesse clamor, and lesse noyse of armes
Then made these Devils with infernal Charmes:
Thorow the gentle air these clamours flye
Which gave Alarums to the dwellers by,
The fearfull ran away, the stoutest dare
Not go to see what fighting Foes these were:
Untill at last two stout, and hardy Knights
Alarum'd with these noyses several Nights,

Accounting it disgrace for them who were
The Sons of Mars for to admit of Fear,
Resolv'd to go into the Vale, and see
Who those nocturnal Combatants might be.
The night appointed arm'd, and mounted they
Dauntlesse, and stout, together take their way,
Fair Phæbe tripping th'row the azure skies,
Favour'd with smiles of light their enterprize,
And on the Rode her silver beams doth shed,
Which to this Close, and haunted Valley led:
By whose fair beams of Light disery they might
Two Armies battail'd, and prepar'd to fight
Their Troops well marshal'd, prest, and ready bent,
And Colours streaming in each Regiment,
The Foot prepar'd, the Horsemen mounted, and
Th' Artillery fitted, and in order stand:
Here Drumms were beat, here Fifes were play'd upon,
Here the shril-sounding Trumpets strongly blown
Tantara go, and other musick, that
Men prest to blood, and rage doth animate.
This seen, the heart of one strong fear subdues,
And farther on to go he doth refuse,
I'ave seen enough (said he) nor is it good
To match with Friends for feeble Flesh, and Blood,
Let's now retire, while that we may, from these
Fiends, and not dally with such Prodigies.
Coward stay thou (the other strait replies)
I'le try their mettal e'r I go: Then hies
Upon the gallop to these Armies, but
He in the midst is by a Champion met;
They draw their Weapons, stoutly fight, but he
Strait loses both his head, and Victory.
The other lesse Fool-hardy flies; relate
He doth next day, this Champions desperate Fate,
The People thither go by heaps: The dead
Body they find, some furlongs from his Head,
But neither print of mens feet, nor of Horses
Nor any sign of all these warlike Forces
Were to be seen: Such stories Histories
Afford in plenty. And let this suffice.

Nor are the sacred Acts of Spirits good,
Inferior or lesse frequent than the Bad,
For they do mortals help as often still,
As those black Fiends appear to do them ill.
Doth not the sacred Writ most clearly shine
In every place with Angels Acts divine?
What were those Sacred Nuncio's that came,
And eat, and drank, and Talk'd with Abraham?
They eat, and drank, not that they needed it,
For unto nothing soon resolv'd their meat.
And who were those who Lot protected, from
The Sulph'ry flames which did on Sodom come?
That the Ægyptians first-born slew? and that
Which did Senac'hrib's Host exterminate?
That which with Manoa commun'd, and he
Which Daniel help'd in his extremity?
Which talk'd with Esaras? and those five that fought
In golden armes for Machabeus stout?
And what was he who Mary visited?
And he who Peter from his prison led?
Full every where are holy Histories,
Of holy Acts of Angels like to these,
Who by the Mandate of their masters Will
Attend the good of Fragil mortal still:
This one I'le cite, to them who more would know
The Ecclesiastic Histories will show.

When Christianism's fair, and sacred Light
Contested with the foul, and cursed Night
Of Paganism; Then the raging Fiends,
Brought many Saints unto most cruel ends,
And then the holy Angels of the Lord,
Bestirr'd themselves to propagate his Word,
And in the Christians great extremities,
Apply'd choyce comforts to their Miseries:
So that with hearts undaunted evermore,
The Rage, and fury of Hel's Prince they bore.
Among the rest stout LAURENTINUS, and
His valiant brother PERGENTINUS stand
As Champions stout, and bid defiance to
Hell: their pernicious and immortal Foe.

Their holy Tongues fiered with Zeal decry
The Heathens Idol, and Idolatry:
Their holy charmes enchain the Peoples hearts,
And Sathan's wounded by the sacred darts
Shot from their pious mouthes; and fearing now
To be o're-come voweth their overthrow.
TIBURTIUS then Areciam's Lord is bent
To be (the Prince of STYX) his Instrument:
He these seeks to disswade, but all in vain;
They scorn his hony'd words, and sugar'd traine,
The more TIBURTIUS lauds his Jupiter,
The more he up their holy zeal doth stirr.
Enraged he as Sathan did command
Caus'd them with cruel cords for to be bound,
And then with batts for to be beaten sore,
Till their white backs were covered with gore.
But mark an Angel with a steely wand
And frowning brows doth by these Martyrs stand
Unseen, he strikes their Executioners,
Which blow its dyre effects full soon infers;
For strait their armes, who beat these Martyrs so,
Are now not able for to strike a blow,
Dry'd up they are like sticks; their sinnews shrunk
And dryth hath up their strength, and vigor drunk:
Cruel Tiberius then to prison hales
These Brothers: (Hell now claps on all his Sailes;
Blown with the blasts of Rage, fell mischiefs barque
Seeks to o'rewhelm the Christian's new-built Ark)
There as it were within the jawes of Hell,
Where horrid Night, and Stygian stinks did dwell,
Where mire, and filthy durt, and stinking dung
Bespread the floor, and the black wall's behung:
There are the Brothers, noble Brothers put,
And there from food, as well as Light are shut.
But stay Tiburtius, 'tis not thou canst keep
Food from these Martyrs: Christ will feed his sheep:
And tho ten thousand Iron barrs behem,
He in the foulest hole will feast with them.
A sacred Angel now Hel's Rage withstands,
And notwithstanding his severe Commands,

Brings ev'ry day food to these close shut up:
With which they bountifully dine, and sup.
In vain Tiburtius every day enquires
Which of the constant brothers first expires,
In vain he waits (and still in vain he may)
To hear the cruel cut-throat keepers say
That they were starv'd to death: He waites in vain,
Raging therefore he now will have them slain.
This cruel Monster, and right Stygian Heir
Doth now a walk of burning Coales prepare;
And (cruel) forces these two Saints to stalk
With naked feet upon this fiery walk:
The glowing Coales (charg'd by the Angel so)
Kisse their sweet feet unhurt as they do go,
Fast locking up their burning quality
As splendant Gemms under their feet do lye.
But all this will not serve their turns; for now
Unto JOVE'S Image they are bid to bow,
Instead of Jove to Jesus strait they cry,
When one of his blest Chore doth thither flye,
Touching the Idol with his sacred hand,
Prodigiously converts the same to sand,
The brasse resolv'd to dust falls on the ground,
Whilst Heathen Jesu's blessed Name resound.
Such were the acts of holy Angels, then
Frequent, tho now so seldom seen by men.

And what's the reason that these Sons of Light
Seem as it were now to eschew our sight?
Why don't they now appear as they were wont
To do, in former ages? and why don't
They shew their kind familiarity
But hide themselves in vail'd obscurity?
Some think the sins of Men the cause; and sure
Angels love to converse with none but pure
Men like themselves: and though this may not be
The only Cause of their obscurity
Unto our outer eye, yet sure I am,
Man's inner converse hinder'd by the same
Is, for while Men lye plunged in the mire
Of sinn, they cann't behold these sparks of fire.

Others suppose the Church confirmed now,
Has no such need as heretofore for to
Be strengthened, therefore Angles don't appear,
And therefore miracles now ceased are.
Others do think (and sure their reason's good)
Since God himself put on our flesh and Blood,
And since that Jesu's blest Humanity
For ay inthroned is in Heav'n on high,
That Mortals should Spiritualized be,
And him by Faith, in Truth, and Spirit see.
For the Internal World's now open'd are,
And Spiritual Treasures more then e'r they were,
So that Man now converse with Angels may
In a more Spiritual, and nearer way,
For Angels tho they don't appear, do Love
Men as they did, and round him daily move,
For to defend him from all hurt, and Harm,
With Magic vigour of their powerful arm.
They willing are still to converse with Men
Who lay aside the letting Vailes of Sin.
But what's the reason seeing Spirits have
Such power here, that th' Ill do not bereave
Man of his Life? and with their shapes affright
Him from his Reason, Wits, and Sences quite?
Why don't they haunt Man with continual terror?
And shew themselves in their dread shapes of horror?
Why don't they muster all the Winds? and tear
The Rocks assunder? and the Mountains bear
Unto some City pashing with the stones
Both Towers, and Walls, Houses, and Men at once?
Why don't they move the Raging Seas, and make
At once a Kingdom, or a Land, a Lake?
And sith a power to slaughter men they have
Why don't they sweep whole Townes into the grave?
Beeing they are to mischief alwayes bent,
Why make they Man to be their Instrument?
The Devil Mans subtle and crafty foe
Charges his slaves, that they themselves do show
To none, but such whom he's assured are
Better'd, and bound fast in his Iron snare:

For he's affraid if he should men affright
With the black shadows of the dismal Night,
And should in's horrid shapes be seen, that they
(Sith Men in fear, are then most apt to pray
For help to God) should through a sence of fear
On goodnesse think, and from their sins forbear:
And lest that many, who no Hell believe
Now; he by this meanes should re-undeceive
Beside the shame, of their foul blot, and stain
From oft appearing doth them much restrain,
For they do know Man knows their fall, and strait
They hang their heads if he the same relate.
Therefore they'r much enrag'd if any spy
Them will they, nil they, with an inner eye.
But chiefly this restrains them: Well they know
Their ministry, and what they are to do
Spiritual is, and that they need not come
In shapes, nor Corporeity assume.
They are to tempt Man unto Sinn, and they
That very well can do a better way
Than to be seen, into the fancy presse
They do and there suggest all wickednesse.
Sleeping, and waking, Night, and Day, they do
Disturb the fancy, and the sences too.
So that they'l not appear unto the eye
Except they think they an advantage spy.

But why Man's Life they do not take away
Nor all the order of the World destroy
Is this: JEHOVA whose black slaves they be
Holds in his Hand their chaines extremity,
So that like Bandoggs they may bark, and grin,
But cannot hurt unlesse he lose the chain:
Which loos'd (for sinnes correction) strait they rome
And upon man with rage, and fury come.
Likewise we must not think the Angels idle,
But that they still their rage, and fury bridle,
Opposing still the rigor of their armes,
Against the venom of their spells, and charmes:
So that with wisdom, and with might they can
Avert their plots, and stratagems from Man.

But I suppose, did God give Sathan leave,
He would not Men, as most suppose, deprive
Of Life (tho I confesse his furious spight
Effect much harm, and desolation might)
For what good would it do for him to Crown
At once the whole World with a Martyrdom?
For what good would it do him to destroy
Man? for himself by it he'd more annoy:
'Tis not this Life of Man he seeks, but the
Soul's company with him Æternally:
Therefore he'd have Men in prosperity,
And's loth to see them in Adversity.
In ease, and pleasure Men to sin are subject,
Disease stirs up to a Cœlestial object.
If Sathan should Man's hand so agitate
That he should burst in twain the thread of Fate
Of any one: answer shall he the fact
If that his will concurr'd not with the act?
Then Dæmonaicks must be guilty too
Of whatsoe'r they in their fits do do.
Sathan knows well enough what e'r ill in
Their minds he puts, imputed sha'n't for sin
Be unto them, unlesse their will they shall
Conjoyn thereto. This sin we rightly call.
Therefore he tempts, well knowing that he can
Not hurt: for Man himself must murther Man.
Hurt from himself doth flow; but cunning he
Makes Man betray himself to misery.
But if that any persecute he wou'd
His Rage, and spight would be against the Good,
Whom he should think were past his reach, or those
Who naked should themselves to him expose,
Hoping thereby to make them sin, or that
They should grow through oppression desperate.
But God who bounds the Seas, doth Hell command,
And binds the Devils with the self-same Hand.

Man as the Sages not untruly say'd
Peculiar Genii has both good and bad:
Each good Man has an Angel guardian,
And evil Dæmon has each evil Man

For to attend upon him; one doth still
Egg Man to Good, the other unto ill.
As doth a careful Nurse attend the child
She suckles, lest by harm it be beguil'd,
Or hurt, and as she joys to see it grow
In strength, and all perfections; even so
The Angel tutular attends his Ward,
And daily it doth from all evil guard:
He joys to see his charge to grow apace
In Heav'n's perfections, and the strength of Grace:
He guards his charge from ills, and doth undo
Hel's plots, and snares, and stops his fury too.
And were it not for such an Angel's guard,
To shun Hel's snares, a Saint would find it hard.
What owe we then unto Heav'n's Love, that sends
So good a Nurse that Man so frankly tends?
So evil Men, ill Dæmons wait upon,
Who joy to see them in Hel's Races run,
They have their several charges too, and they
Also upon their charge attend alway:
Each seeks his charge to hale to TOPHET, even
As the good Angel to bring his to Heaven.

Sometimes these Genii bodies take, and then
Themselves they do exhibit unto men:
For Bishop Bruno heard a voyce cry thus;
No Bishop! I am thy ev'l Genius,
E're long I'le fetch thee: and e're long indeed
A Roof fell down upon his cursed head.
So Marcus Brutus his ev'l Genius spy'd
(Whose Fate presag'd) the night before he dy'd.
Cassius Parmensis saw a Dæmon that
With horrid looks presag'd his evil Fate,
Who being asked what he was? he thus
Reply'd; I am thy evil Genius.
Good Men likewise have their own Genii seen
And with them also conversant have been.
Bodin relates a story of a Man
Who was directed by his Guardian
Angel, at all times, who forewarn'd him still
(That he prevent it might) of any ill

That threat'ned him: or if he did not well
He by some sign him of it still would tell:
And ev'ry morning (such his holy care
Was) him awak'd, and stir'd him up to prayer;
And every night he in a dream did shew
Those accidents that should next day ensue:
So that he was fore-armed still, and thus
Preserv'd till Death by his good Genius.
One Jacob Behre, a very pious Man
By prayer obtain'd an Angel Guardian.
Which both himself, and's Wife saw every Night
About their Bed, like to a shining Light.
Such is God's Love, and such the Angels care,
That we as children, they as Nurses are.

I do believe that there are many now
That by the guidance of their Angels go,
Steer as they do direct; are guided by
And have converse with their own Genii.
And tho, men may not often see their own
Genii; and though themselves they have not shown
Often; unseen they act and do direct
Our actions, and us from Hel's harms protect.
They do inspire us, and as God commands,
Sometimes they help, sometimes with-hold their Hands.
Good Angels help good men, the evil still
Entice, and draw them to the pits of ill.
Most men are by Good, or 'ill Genii led,
In all their actions, tho they'r undescry'd:
Therefore behold within the Globe I paint
An Angel Guardian waiting on a Saint:
An evil Dæmon, which another leads,
Who in the pathes of sinn, and Tart'rus treads.
But the deep Magic of each mystic Sphear
We shall (below at full) describe, not here.
We here proceed shall (tho in homely garb)
To shew the Myst'ries of this outer Orb.

This World from th' inward Worlds its being gat,
And of their natures doth participate.
The curse with blessings, good with bad doth blend.
Both Centres hither do their forces send:

This is the stage on which both act, 'tis here
Their influence, and power doth appear:
This is the field, in which these powers do band,
And strive which of them may Man's heart command.
This is the receptacle, here below
For Heav'n and Hell their Wonders both to shew:
So that here is as 'twere conjoyn'd in one
Both Sodom, Ægypt, and Jerusalem.

The Devil, crafty in his hellish art,
Rejoyced much to see this World produc'd
From two more inward beings, now he us'd
His utmost skill, and it stood him upon,
This World's, and Adam's soul in union
For to conjoyn, For well he thereby knew
A place of pleasure should to him accrew.
Infernal Spirits find some ease, when they
Imbody in some earthly bodies may.
The herd of Swine they'd rather enter, than
Return into their smoaky hole agen:
Leaving their fiery Centre, they as 'twere
Come forth of prison for to take the ayr:
Here they disport themselves; and closely lurk
With eagernesse to do their fathers work,
Which is to draw th' immortal Souls of men,
For to inhabit their Sulphurious den.
The Devils tremble when they think upon
This outward Fakrick's dissolution,
For then more strictly shall they wrapped be
In their own Centre to Æternity.

This wily Serpent all his craft did use,
His poyson th'row this Earth for to diffuse
Which he no way effect could: b'Adam's lapse
Only a way is made; He him intraps,
Assaults his free-will, doth expose to view
This World's rare beauties when 'twas formed new:
Shews him the tree forbid, whose dangling fruit
So pleasing, with a new made creature suit
He well knew would: This was the only gate
By which he hop'd to overthrow him at.

He knew beforehad the sad consequence
Of Adam's fall: Therefore he strives from whence
He was created to attract him; and
Thereby to lessen him of his Command.
Adam was King, sole Prince, and Lord of all
The Earth, but lost it by his fatal fall.
Sathan knew, he millions of Souls should gain
By this meanes, to encrease his hellish train;
And hop'd (it may be) for to conquer all
That should produc'd be on this earthly Ball,
If Adam should not fall, he likewise knew,
He in this World should nothing have to do,
But should be banish'd quite, which is the state
Is promised, for which the Angels wait;
To see Hel's power banish'd, Heav'n's alone
To have with this World's Spirit union:
Then shall the curse be fled, and Paradise
To flourish here we shall see with our eyes.
But Adam's fatal lapse, from what, to what,
In brief my slender Muse shall now relate.

Th' Æternal one, or th' one Original,
Th' internal World's, which Principles we call,
Or his right hand, or left hand, Wrath, or Love
Considering, doth with his Spirit move
On them: what Images there Spiritual
Were, he gave them substance corporeal,
And by his Fiat this great Machine made
Of nought: and in such form and order laid
This huge vast Moles, (or live creature, some
So have affirm'd, I'n this a Sceptic am)
That there no disagreeing seeds appear'd,
All was by order, weight, and measure rear'd.
Heav'n, Earth, Ayr, Seas, Fire, Water, Land, and all
Beasts, Fishes, Serpents, Birds, the which this Ball
Inhabited, they so created were
That they partak'd of each internal Sphear:
And though those Kingdoms ever disagree,
Were in the World in compleat harmony,
So had the great Creator order'd it,
And them so in their place, and order set,

That there was no disunion, for that seed
Of disagreement conquer'd was, and hid:
The lighter World was Master, th' other did
Obey as servant, and all things were good.

To what serv'd this the brutish Animal
God's mighty Wonders in their earthly Ball
Contemplate could not: God Almighty then
In his own holy likenesse formed Man;
His shape it may be somewhat like to this
We now do bear: But his pure Body was
Compos'd of Sulphur, Mercury, and Sal,
Out of the inward ground spiritual.
Its nature was, as all things then create,
Most pure, and good, and in a perfect state.
Into this new-made Form God breathed then
The breath of Life, which gave a Soul to Man,
Which Soul Eternal is; so fram'd by God
That from three Kingdoms it its being had:
Three Essences do it compose; so made
That it may stand, or be to hell betray'd:
Or like an empty Vacuum, which is
Capable to be fill'd with Wo, or Blisse:
For what the Soul cleaves most unto when she
Puts off this case, she to Æternity
Enjoys. Nor is she God as some do deem,
But 's express'd Word, or Breath to me doth seem:
Or a shot Ray from that diviner Sun,
Who is in all things, and is yet but One.

Adam thus made, perfect, and good, by God
In Paradise is plac'd, a bless'd abode:
Then was the golden age indeed, Earth gave
Nor Weeds, nor Thorns, but cloath'd in liv'ry brave
Had a perpetual spring; continual green
In ev'ry place, on ev'ry tree was seen:
No dainty Flower, which art makes now to flourish,
But then the Earth did naturally nourish.
A constant verdure it retain'd, and then
With thousand flowers spotted was the green:
Each tree at one time bore both fruit, and flower;
Each herb to heal, but not to hurt had power.

No sharpnesse in the fruit, no naughty smell,
The worst fruit then, our best now, did excel:
No hurtful herb, no poysonous Root grew there,
Of 'ts own accord the Earth all things did bear,
No Summer's parching heat, nor Winter's cold
There was: one temperature did all infold.
Boreas broke not his Hyperborean den,
Nor did wet Auster, or that Eurus wen
From theirs: A pleasing Zepher only kist
The waving trees: No cloud nor foggy mist
Caus'd from the Earth's ill vapours; she had none:
No Sea-got cloud arose between the Sun
And th' pregnant Earth; no sudden storms of Rain:
No snow, no hail, nor thund'ring was there then.
Tempestuous Orion threatned not the Seas;
Nor shew'd the time to sail the Pleiades.
Saturn had then no naughty influence,
A fructifying power came from thence:
The Planets not in opposition mov'd:
The Heav'ns, the Earth, the Earth the Heav'ns lov'd:
Heav'n sent no storms Earth's beauties to deface,
Earth with dull mists dimm'd not Heav'ns brighter face:
No starr there was that had ill influence,
All Rays were blest that were projected thence.
All things in perfect Harmony agreed:
In Heav'n, nor Earth, was there discording seed.
The Lion, with the Lamb did play, the Bear
Rob'd not the Bees; nor sheep the Wolf did fear.
The crested Cock undauntedly stood by
The Fox, as then devoy'd of sublety:
The Toad no venom had; nor poysonous sting
The Scorpion: Nor did then the Birds great King
Feed on the rest: nor did the Falcon prey
Upon the Dove: nor Fishes in the Sea
Did feed the Cormorant: the lesser fry
Fed not the greater, nor was enmity
Then found in Birds, in Fishes, or in Beast:
LOVE all conjoyn'd, in Love all still did feast.

ADAM is Lord, and King: each animal
Comes at his beck, and doth obey his call;

All bow their lofty heads if he comes near,
The Hart, nor timerous Hare his presence fear,
The shaggy Lion, Bear, the Bull, the Bore,
Couch at his feet, him as their God adore.
He wanted not then, as we now do want,
Help from the Beasts, nor physick from the plant,
Meat from the Fowles, and Fishes: nor had he
So grosse a Body to be fed, as we.
Upon the tree of Life he only fed;
No vapours then arose to dull his head;
No sleep e'r clos'd his watchful eyes; nor knew
He want of it; no hunger did accrew.
His soul like ours was not parturient,
He saw th'row all things, knew what all things meant:
Gave names to all the Creatures, and did frame
Them, as their natures so he gave their Name.
Nor did he want the Camel, nor the Horse
To carry him, he in himself had force
Enough to move his Body, and to bear
It where he list, o're Sea, or th'row the Ayr.
No water could his Body drown, nor fire
Consume; nor subject was't to Death's dread ire.
It then immortal was imperishable;
Corporeal, and yet unalterable.
He such a Body had as Christ had on
After his glorious Resurrection.

In this state ADAM stood; but God foresaw
The wo that he soon on himself would draw:
Therefore he thus forewarns him: New made Soul!
Work of my Hands, in whom no pheeces foul
Remain! a second Deity! O thou
For ay mayst live! Thou art immortal now;
Thou art an Angel, and I thee prefer
For to possesse the Throne of LUCIFER.
For this end did I thee Create, that the
Voy'd Throne of LUCIFER, possess'd might be:
Thou shalt enjoy, and if thou stand'st upright,
Th' Eternal mansions of ne're fading Light.
Look to thy self therefore, for thou mayst guesse
LUCIFER envy will thy happinesse;

He'l strive to overthrow thee, and to gain
Thee to the mansions of Eternal pain.
Thou'rt now in Paradise, thy soul doth move
In my bright Kingdom of Æternal Love.
Now take thy choyse; I thee a free-will give;
Whether thou'lt mortal be, or ever live.
The way I'le tell thee, shew thee what to do,
If then thou fall'st, the fault shall lye on you.
Thou'rt now in Paradise, a second God,
If then thou would'st not lose this bless'd abode,
Put not thy will into that Kingdom, where
Reignes in my wrath the fallen LUCIFER.
Instead of Light, an Angel thou wilt be
Of darknesse then unto Æternity.
Nor put thy mind into this Earth below
Lust thou not after it; if thou dost so
Thou shalt a carnal Body have, and be
Subject to Death, lose Immortality.
But put thy Mind, thy Will, thy Faculties
In my Light-Kingdom; exercise thou these
There: Feed not on the Tree of death, nor on
The mortal fruit, but feed thou still upon
The Tree of Life: Th' one darknesse, th' other death,
But this doth true Æternal Life, bequeath,
Thou seest now what thou ought'st to do; standfast,
But forty dayes will thy temptation last,
In which time if thou fall'st not, thou shal't be
For ever cloath'd with Immortality:
Be like the Angels, as thou art; possesse
E'r-lasting Joys; Æternal Happinesse.
If not, this Body shall another have
Of the World's nature, subject to the grave,
And what thou now possessest thou shalt lose,
Go now or Death, or Life Æternal chuse.

ADAM'S now left alone in Paradise
Unto the mortal Principle his eyes
He turns: For he has no desire to prove
The wrathful Kingdom; He's quite out of Love
With it; abhorrs it, turns his eyes away,
And lets them on this lower Orb to stray.

With it he's captivated, and his Lust,
Puts after it; he it desires to tast.
Or thus more properly: These Kingdoms three
In equal Concord plac'd in Adam be.
Nor the dark World, nor this low Orb, to prove
Should he desier; but that Orb of Love;
In that alone should his desire have gon,
With that, not these for to have union.
But his desier soon awakened
The humane property; unmaried
He quickly was from th' second Principle
When once from it unto the third he fell.
His Body changed is; or th' other this
More base indues: Strange Metamorphosis!
What was before diaphanous, and clear,
Not now transparent; muddy doth appear:
What was like ayr, is now like Earth; what light
Now's heavy; and for an unbounded sight,
Each object intervening hindereth:
For an immortal, now a mortal breath
He draws: His Body which before could flye
Clog'd now is with a load of flesh, doth lye
Fix'd to this Orb: his quicker pace now's gon,
He tries to flye but he can scarcely run:
He tries the Waters, at the Rivers brinks,
Passe as before he could not, now he sinks
Unto the bottom: that same Element
Small aid for to support his body lent.
Adam's amaz'd, and in the Chrystal Glasse
Of Waters, he beholds his limbs, and Face,
He feels his hair, his nose, his teeth, his flesh,
Then views, then feels, then views himself afresh.
Then tries to use his nimble feet; the Reeds
In running cut his naked legs, he bleeds;
He feels the smart, he wonders more at this,
And strangeth at his Metamorphosis.
With this grosse body, he a lesser sight
Gaines; he has lost th' immense, and heaven'ly Light
He had before. A smaller intellect
And understanding now he has: Direct

Himself he cann't; he finds his body's case
Like heavy shakels pin him to the place:
Anon dull sleep sits on his eyes, and he
Th'row out his body feels a Lethargy;
Extended on the verdant grasse he lyes
And soundly sleepeth with fast closed eyes.

God sees this lapse, he pitys him; he saw
His heav'nly Image from his sight withdraw:
ADAM his knowledge lost, and power too:
Help now himself he cann't; this did accrue
By's lapse; but had he stood in Paradise
His bless'd estate, had then been on this wise.
God's Image then he should have born for aye
But not as now, obscur'd with clogs of clay;
The heav'nly part should th'row the outward shine;
Free as the ayr; his meat, and drink divine;
Nor as we eat, should he have eaten then,
Magically, yet with mouth, lips, and tongue,
But not into the body, there's no vent
And nothing could turn into Excrement.
No need should he have had of carnal food,
The Beasts, nor Fowls could do him little good;
But God forese'ing he'd lapse from this bless'd state.
Did therefore them for's future helps create.
And yet he should have had his sences free,
In higher measure, and full purity.
Nor should he have continued alone,
(Such members as we have now he had none
To propogate) he magically, as
The Sun's bright beames the waters surface passe
Doth, without pain, so should he have brought forth
In Paradise. By a Cœlestial birth,
He should in God's bless'd Image more have got,
Æternal all, none subject to Fate's Lot.
He should both Father be, and Mother then,
For Male, and Female God created Man:
Both Man, and Woman, Wise, and Virgin he
Together was, in State of purity.

God saw that he, in this new lapsed state;
Had lost the power now to propogate;

Deterred by that vail of flesh: so would
He have continu'd still; nor ever could
From 's loines an issue spring. God just and true,
T'whom future things are present, all fore-knew,
Therefore that VENUS, or that power he had
In him, before to propagate, he clad
In flesh like him; and of his life, and being
Framed his EVE: both in all things agreeing.
Man once was whole-man, but now broke alass!
Is but the half of what at first he was:
Such members then, as we have now they gat,
Fit, (as the Beast does) for to propogate.
ADAM awakes, and views his new made EVE,
He knows she's part of's self; doth to her cleave,
And upon her his sole desire doth cast,
With her he joys, in her he takes repast.

In Paradise as yet they were, for sin
Actually had yet not enter'd in,
Nor was the vanity awak'd, as yet,
God's blessed Image in their souls was set,
Though much obscur'd: In great felicity
And Joy they liv'd, not knowing vanity,
Nor Good, nor Evil; Could they so have stood
They had been blessed, for their state was good.
Their pronity unto a farther Fall
God saw, therefore he thus to them doth Call.

Great Protoplast! and Prince of Paradise!
Take heed thou losest not these happy Joys
Once more I thee forewarn: already thy
Imagination in Earth's property
Did work: thou seest what thou thereby hast lost,
Thy Earthly Body did a better cost,
Of one, thou now art twain; th' Habiliments
A Body made up of the Elements,
Which yet no jar doth know; nor cold, nor heat
Thy expos'd flesh the temperate ayr doth threat.
My Heav'nly power yet doth penetrate,
And cloath thy Body in this naked state,
Nor know'st thou good, or ill: In Harmony
Thou art; nor is awak'd Hel's property

As yet: therefore if thou wouldst stand for aye,
Obey what I command; mark what I say.

Seest thou the happy pleasures of this place?
What verdant Groves, and flowring Trees do grace
This blessed Soul? how many Trees do sute
Thy dainty pallat, with their happy fruit?
How many thousands here, in order set
Fit for thy food do court thy lips to eat?
Here, here is choyce, nor will their sweetnesse cloy
Thy stomach, nor their acritude annoy
Thy tast; their substance is Ambrosia, and
Their Liquor Nectar: Zephirs to thy hand
Do blow the laden bows; spare not to eat
Thou can'st not surfet with this pleasing Meat.
Nor needest thou to lay up store, nor fear
To want; Continually these Trees do bear;
The Fruit renews as fast as thou canst pull;
All here is good, yet thou thy choyce may'st cull.
See but what store there is, enough for thee,
And thousands more. Amongst these Trees, one Tree,
And but one Tree will I debar thee from,
Near that I charge thee, that you never come;
See where it stands surrounded with the rest,
Plac'd in the Garden's Centre: See 'tis drest
Not like the other Trees, from th' other thou
May'st eas'ly know it, by each leaf and bow.
Nor think that I would bar thee from this Tree,
Did not I know it would prove Death to thee,
Shouldst thou but eat thereon. Thou'rt ignorant
Oft's nature, and what liquor virulent
Its fruit contains. Therefore I say beware,
Shun thou the thought of it, and do not dare

To tast of it: Let not the Devil entice
Thee unto it, for if thou dost thou dy'st;
Thou Paradise shalt loose, and thou shalt see
The World endu'd with fatal misery:
The curse shall spring th'row out the Earth, and thou
In pleasure shalt no longer live, as now;
But shalt with pain, and labour, cold, and heat,
Sorrow, and care, and trouble get thy meat.
Look to thy self, let not the Devil thee
Provoke, to eat on this forbidden Tree
For if thou dost, thou wilt it soon repent,
For breaking this my just Commandement.

The Devil like a Gamester, who hath lain
All that he hath at stake, and is undone
If that he lose: or like some General
Encamp'd before some rich, strong City Wall,
In whose subversion he's assur'd to gain
A masse of Treasure, and eternal Fame,
Doth play his part, and useth all his skill
To win the Game, and conquer Adam's Will,
He fears if Eve the new-made World encrease
Should with some pretty Babe in Paradise
E'r that the Wrath awak'ned was, he should
Miscarry in his great design, nor could
He then so easily have drawn from good,
Their brighter souls, when they so long had stood.
A Captain who some Castle thinks to take
By stratagem, an hunder'd plots doth make
In's brain, resolves on this, and then on that,
Then liketh this, then likes another plot:
Anon he spies some danger, or defect
In that; his thoughts some other thing Erect,
And then to work he sets his busie brain,
Until his thoughts have perfected the train:
Which well disgested, unto work he goes,
Undauntedly resolves to win or lose;
So subtle Sathan after many wiles,
Thus our first Parents cunningly beguiles.

Amongst the other Beasts that did resort
As humble servants unto ADAM'S Court,

There was a Serpent whose fine speckled hide,
And pretty features with rare colours dy'd,
Had gain'd EVE'S Love, and who it may be had
Entwin'd about her naked neck, and play'd
With her white hands; or favour'd in her lap:
This Sathan thought was best her to intrap.
Into this Beast he goes, and still doth lie
About the Tree forbid: Eve's longing eye
Full oft salutes that fatal Tree; desire
She doth to tast the fruit, approaching nigher
The subtle Serpent frisking on the Tree
She 'spies: The shaddow cannot hurt, thinks she.
Nearer she goes; thinking on God's Command
She feares for to proceed, then makes a stand,
But still the more she thought she was forbid,
The more she longs, the more desire she did.
(The same we still retain, for even thus
We most desire what is forbid to us)
She steps a little forward; then retires
Then moves again: tempted by her desires
She doth the Tree approach. God's stricter Law
Affright's her; she's about for to withdraw:
Sathan se'ing her the place about to leave,
Thus through the Serpent tempts our Grandame Eve.

Great Mistresse of this World, our gracious Queen,
Commandresse of this mighty Orb terrene,
Why so unwilling to approach this Tree,
Which I the best judge in this Grove to be?
Me thinks you seem'd to dread the shade thereof
When you unwilling to approach, aloof
Stood looking on't: As yet you seem to fear
The very shade; as if some hurt dwelt here.
Tell, what is in't that can displease you thus?
Eve answers then: The Lord commanded us
To please our tastes, with the variety
Of all those fruits which in this Garden be,
Only this Tree alone he bard us from
And charg'd us never near its shade should come.
For Death is harbour'd in this Tree, our last
And fatal day is come should we but taste

This tempting fruit: Great pity 'tis so fair
And lovely Apples should such poyson bear.
The subtle Serpent that he might beguile
The better, answer'd with a forced smile.

Pleasures are hardly left, when that our sence
Confirm'd by reason, and experience,
Find them both good, and just: I am too wise,
This Tree in truth hath opened mine eyes,
For to beguiled be; Think you to 'fright
Me, with your Bug-bears from my chief delight?
No, you would drive me from my happinesse
That you this fair Tree might alone possesse.
Say what you will, this Tree nor fruit I fear,
I by experience know no hurt dwells here;
And you know that; Nor I say'd Eve, nor do
I now dissemble, I the truth to you
Declared have; God charg'd us not come nigh,
Nor tast this Tree; did we, we sure should dye.
The subtle Serpent thus reanswereth:
And speak you Truth? what this Tree bring you Death?
God charg'd you thus? And told you you should dye
Did you but tast thereof? I now know why
He made you this believe: Lend me your ear,
I'le banish soon from you this vainer fear,
And let you know that in this Grove there's none
So beautiful, and Good, as is this one.
All what I have, this subtlety, this wit
I must acknowledge that I owe to it,
Which by frequenting of this better Tree,
Hath been I know not how inspir'd in me.
You see more wit, and subtilty I have
Then all the Beasts beside; This Tree this gave;
Which doth encrease, and whilst I here remain
More wit, and knowledge every day I gain.
Reflect a little; let your eyes but trace
Each Tree that grows in this Celestial place,

Consider all their beauties: look ag'in
And see if any like to this is seen.
Though all are full of Beauty, verdant, fair,
May yet there any with this Tree compare?
This Tree is Mistresse of the rest, and Queen
Of this same Grove, none hath such verdant green;
See how she in the midst is plac'd, each tree
Encompasse her, and as her servants be,
Bow their proud tops unto her lofty spire;
See how she mounteth than the rest far higher,
And threatneth with her waveing tops (well neer
Unto the clouds) the rest who shrink for fear
Their humble heads. See what a length extends
Her interwoven Armes, which still befriend
The under-growing grasse with pleasing shades:
Look what soft mosse her mighty bole invades,
Like to a mantle of green plush, these be
Like Ornaments unto her Majesty,
As Queen of all the rest. Consider, and
Think if that he who this severe Command
Gave unto you, so would his works disgrace
By placing poyson in the happiest place:
All things he made are Good; where are your Eyes?
Think you that ill can be in Paradise?
Can this choyce Tree so great an ill contain?
Pish! don't believ't, for all such thoughts are vain.
No, no, I'le tell you why he did forbid
You to come neer this Tree; such virtue's hid
Within its golden Fruit, should you but tast,
You'd be for ever happy, ever blest;
No longer then in stupid Ignorance
Should you enchained be; then happy glance
From brighter Light, would in your Souls arise:
See then would your blind Soul; and dimmer eyes
Made bright, discern betwixt all good, and ill,
Transcendant knowledge then your brains would fill,
You should be wise, and like the Gods; this knew
They well, should happen (if you eat) to you:
Therefore they did prohibit you this Tree,
Lest you by eating like themselves should be.

Thus should you dye, fear not such scare-crows now;
See how the glit'ring Fruit doth lade each bow:
Look how they'r painted with Vermilion dye
Like golden starres set in a verdant Skye,
Or like the blushing Roses, which are seen
New peeping forth thorow a verdant Screen.
Look how the Apples blush, see how they stand,
See how the boughs, bow down to kiss thine hand;
All 's at thy choyce: which on this fair-spread Tree.
(Come tell me Eve!) most liked is by thee?
See here's a fine one, this? or this best likes
Thee? do but look what many pretty strikes
Of red, and yellow paint; here's one that skipps
Unto thy mouth: here thine own Cherry lips
Are answered; thy softer skin thou mayst
Here find; but there's a mellow one whose tast
So sweet—delicious that 'twil ravish quite
Thy looser sences with extream delight;
Thou hast such choyce thou know'st not which to choose:
Come take this on my word, try what accrews
By this: here take it, prethee eat, and try
If thou a Goddesse art not by, and by.

Tempted by these fine words, and that fair Fruit,
Fear holds her Hands, desire prompts her to't,
At last she takes the sugar'd bait, doth eat,
Findes it for th' present very pleasing meat,
Now on its pleasing hue her looks she cast,
Then with her tongue the sweeter Liquor tast
She doth: mean time her husband passing by
The place she thus attempts. Look here what I
Have got (said she) so fair an Apple, yet
Thou never saw'st: 'tis passing pleasing meat,
Melts in my mouth; I wonder'd much that we
So strictly were forbid this pleasing Tree:
As mortals here we shall not make abode,
I shall a Goddesse be, and thou a God;
We shall be wise as they: here eat thou this
I first have prov'd: me thinks it pleasing is.

Adam invited thus receives the fruit,
And without long delay falls rashly to't.

He that hath drunk the juice of Aconite,
Or the lethiferous Henbane, strait his sp'right
O're fir'd, or too much cool'd, a punction feels,
With grievous smarting rage, his body reels,
His eyes grow dim, his sences stupid; stand
The blood doth in his Face, nor Feet, nor Hand
Can he scarce wagg; the World turns round: his Head
Grows dizzy, by and by his spirits fled
From his swell'd Carcase, dead they leave him: so
These guilty couple 'gan to feel their wo;
Strait operates the Fruit, a shivering cold
Upon their naked Carcasses takes hold,
A sudden tremour shakes their Limbs; their Eyes
Close on a sudden, and dark mists arise,
Mix't with thick vapours 'fore their sight; they found
Themselves amaz'd: Cast in a kind of stound
The light they had they loose. Some drunken sot
Or'e charg'd with Wine or Bear, till h'has forgot
To use his reason, a strong drowsinesse
His fume-farc'd Brain, and weakned eyes possesse;
Whilst that he's drench'd in Lith, and sleepeth fast
His fellows for a punishment do cast:
Agreed; they thence him to a Wood do bear,
Pull off his cloaths, and naked leave him there
Fast sleeping on the grasse: When sleep, the Fume
That did molest his drunken Brain o're come
Had; he awakes, and his unclosing eyes
Rubbs with his hand; he is about to rise
When that he feels himself a cold; he sees
Before his eyes the Skies, and wavering Trees;
Finds that he has no cloaths; gets on his feet
And ev'r' object with 'amaz'd eyes doth greet;
Amaz'd he stands, wonders how he came there,
Looks still about, views round, and every where,
For to resolve him none he spies; doth go
Doubts wh'r he dreams, or is awak'd or no:
Now on the ground, now to the skies are hurld
His eyes; Like one dropt from another World

He stands, and knows not what to say, or do:
Just so do stand, and act these guilty two.
They are amaz'd, they scarcely know the place,
All things do seem now with another Face:
Gods Image shrinks into a cloud, the light
Of that bright Sun obscur'd is from their sight,
But by and by the Wrath's awakened,
And now they see their eyes are opened:
They know they'r naked, see their beastial Form,
They are asham'd of it, they know the harm
They'ave done unto themselves: both Good, and Ill
Indeed they know, that Shun, but this thy will.

Sathan rejoyces at his victory,
His poyson doth diffuse immediately
Thorow their Bodyes: now they'ave fading breath,
Bodies to sicknesse subject, and to Death:
Now they Sol's heat do feel, now Hyems cold,
Which to keep off themselves in leaves they'n fould.
Now have the starres a power over them:
A death they pick may now from ev'ry stemm:
The Beasts no longer them obey, if nigh
They come, they dread them, and away they flye.
Fowles use their wings to shun them: Sorrow, Feare,
Anguish, and Trouble, Heavinesse, and Care,
Anxiety, Tears, Sighs, and Passions they
Are subject to: Their Bodies made of clay
To all distempers now. This they brought forth
By feeding on the Principle of Wrath.

God doth no longer unto them appear
Now as a Father, but a Judge severe:
They tremble at his Voyce: behind the Trees
They think themselves from his all-piercing Eyes
To hide. He sees them, and amidst their feares
He thundereth these words into their eares.
You guilty Souls where are you? have you thus
Transgrest? See now how you are like to us!
Ah foolish Adam that wert thus befool'd
When I before to thee the danger told!
Art thou a God? or thou a goddesse Eve?
See how the Serpent did you both deceive!

Now ye are like the Beasts: This banefull fruit
From which I charg'd you so, hath brought you to't.
Thou Eve, with Grief, Pain, Sorrow, Trouble, Care,
And great discomfort, shalt thy children bear;
Subject to Adam: and thou Adam get
Thy food shalt with hard labour, toyl, and sweat.
Curs'd is the Earth for this thy folly. Stay
Here thou no longer must: Hence, pack away,
Thou'st lost the pleasures of bless'd Paradise,
They are obscured from thy blinded eyes:
Nor may'st thou e're return: A flaming Sword
Plac'd in a Cherubs hand the door doth guard.
Thou hast endued now mortality;
Go and enjoy this World in misery.
Thus spake God's Justice; then his Mercy brake
A deeper silence and him thus bespake.

Where art thou Adam? is that Face of thine
Muffled in Clouds that was so like to mine?
Where art thou? lost! O sad! my Wrath doth say
Thou should'st in this sad case remain for aye.
But Love will mercy shew. In Enmity
The Serpent's, and the Woman's seed shall be:
This Love, in mercy to you, will infuse
He shall thy heel, but thou his head shalt bruise.
The Gate of Life is shut; lost's thy blest state,
But Time shall come when it recuperate
Shall be: the Gates of Death broke down, and one
What thou hast lost recover shall again.

From Paradise they go, or Paradise
Rather departs from them: their blinded eyes

Cann't pierce into the holy Element,
Which in this World, as in a prison pent,
Remains. Like to a Tree whose springing sap
Causes the Tree grow green, when to the top
It doth ascend; but when unto the root
It goes; how bears the Tree of leaves, and fruit?
There it lies buried, and the Tree seems dead
Till its remounting all begreens her head.
So did the World appear, lost was its grace,
A darker Vail now hid its brighter Face:
Far greater difference this change did bring
Then 'twixt cold Winter, and the pleasant Spring.
Or like a burning Torch, which being sat
I'th midst of some great Room doth dissipate
The darker shades: which by and by immur'd
In some dark Lanthorn, all the Room's obscur'd,
And scarce a Ray of brighter Light is seen:
So is the World to what it once hath been.
The Devil's poyson is diffus'd th'row all
Things that compose, or circundate this ball.
Both good, and bad together blend: in some
Things more of Good: in others more doth come
Of Bad: the Rose hath more of Paradise
Then fætid Hemlock, Pinkes, than Margs, or Crise:
The Lamb then Tygers; Apple-trees than Yew:
The Doves than Hawkes: Nightshade hath lesse than Rew.
The Devil chose those creatures that were arm'd
With Teeth, Hornes, tallons, clawes, that others harm'd
By them might be; for had he chose the Dove,
Or Lamb, could they like Hawk, or Lion prove?

Discording Seeds now grow in every thing;
Confusion thorow all the Earth doth spring.
Wrath's Principle doth penetrate this Ball,
And what about it is coporeal:
Both good, and ill together mixed are:
All things created, of them have a share.
This ill lay hid before: We poyson may
Into our Bodies safely take; allay
The same with other good ingredients
In such, and such a quantity: It rents
The Body else if it superabound:
So this great Orb in pristine state was found.
Or as in Man all Passions hidden lye,
Which none, if not awaken'd, can descry;
Nor do they hurt him: But awaken those,
The Mind and Body both they discompose.
So dormant lay the wrathful Principle,
As sparks of fire, in ashes wrapt, untill
By Adam's fall it was awak'd, the same
Hid spark, by Sathan's blown into a flame.

The Planets now forego their wonted Love,
Contrary'ng do in opposition move:
They ill Aspects; the starry Orbs immense,
Do now receive a naughty influence;
Such to the Earth they give. The Heav'n, and she
Now seem to be at deadly enmity:
From her thick vapours, and bad stinks arise,
Which as her darts she sends against the skies.
Sol sucks her moisture forth, with vehement heat
Her parched sides, as with his scourges, beat
He doth: And Heav'n her flowring Corn, with round
Ice-bullets forceth to the very ground.
Syderial blasts, Mildew, and storms he sends;
Then from his window agil light'ning wends:
When that enough he with his Summer scourges
Has beaten her, comes Winter; then with surges
He doth bedrench her Face: Contracting cold
Robs her of all her Beauties: very old
She seems, when snows hang dangling on her head:
Chaps which for heat did, now for cold do spread.

Then storms of Rain, and blustring Winds do make
Her Brooks o'reflow, her Trees, and Mountains quake.
Thus they oppose each other, now the Seas
Beat with the Wind, do threat the very Skies:
Sometimes excurring from his wonted place,
With brinish floods doth wash his Sister's Face.
Now Love is lost; no longer unity
But wrath, and hatred 'mong the Creatures be:
The Lamb now fears the Wolf: The Lion tears
The Kid for food: Bees rob'd are now by Bears;
They stings receive: The tusked Bore the Cow
Assaults: The tender Dear, and Hares are now
Slain by the Dogs: The mighty Elephant,
Serpents, and the Rhinoceroth supplant:
The harmlesse yields to those of greater power;
All fill'd with Ire, each other do devour.
Serpents now stings receive, strong poyson Toads,
Reptils, with Reptils, Plants with Plants at odds
Are now: Now death-Hemlock, and Woolf's-Bain hold,
With too much heat this, that with too much cold
Doth kill: Now Bryars, Nettles, Thorns, and Weeds,
With hurtful Plants, the Earth accursed breeds.
Now Whales eat other Fish: Trout Dace devoures:
Minnows the Perch: The Pike the Rivers scoures
To catch the smaller Fry: Eeles Gudgions eat;
And them the Herns; Fish now for Fowl are meat:
They too on each another prey: The Kite
On tender Chickens; Hawkes on Sparrows light.
Thus Enmity arose; thus wrath, and strife;
And thus each Creature seeks each others life.
And all, or most seck humane blood to spill,
Because that Man was cause of all their ill.
All this did spring from the first Principle,
Which open'd strait when our first Parents fell:
And thus the World from its first happy state,
To this, we now do see it in, was brought.

But now the Time's at hand, all long to see,
This World again a Paradise shall be:
The Wrath shall be dethron'd, the Lamb shall Reign
In purity; when Christ appears again:
O hast thy coming Lord! This blessed Day
Let us behold! Lord Jesus hast away!
Wrath's mighty Monarch se'ing how he had wrought,
And the whole Orb under his power brought
By Adam's lapse, rejoyced much; and straight
He doth his Kingdom's Princes convocate,
With the whole Host of Hell: to whom he thus
Speakes. Princely vassals! Who is like to us?
What power can contend with us? I see
The Light World's strength cann't match our Policy.
This Day brave Princes have I subject made
A World, and Man too by our guiles betray'd.
I need not tell, what you already know,
That I to Love am an Eternal Foe;
So he to Me; or that continual Jarrs
Betwixt us rise, and everlasting warrs.
Our Kingdoms opposite you know, Contend
For mastership, which strife shall never end:
We differ in all things, nor shall a Truce
A minutes quietude from Armes produce:
We are as strong as they: I scorn to bow
To him, for I a way have gained how
For to encrease our strength: You Kingdoms, and
Whole Worlds shall have now under your Command;
So many vassals shall this Kingdom stuff,
Wer't not so vast, 'twould scarce be large enough
For to contain them: you great Princes now
I will advise you what you are to do.
The World, and Man which I have gain'd, I see
By strength, and cunning must preserved be.

You know aspiring Princes! you and I
Left Heav'n for prying into the unity,

Because we scorn'd but for to be above
(For why should mighty Wrath give place to) Love?
We left those Orbs, and did them all despise,
And did this mighty Kingdom colonize
Because we would be free; here we Command,
Are Kings; there servants, did obedient stand;
We are grown mighty, and our powers we'l try
To make all World's bow to our Majesty,
Our fires Love's Waters shall consume: we'l see
Who shall be greatest either I or he.
A World betwixt us not long since was made,
Wrath's essence there as well as Love's was shed.
Ours made Rocks, stones, flints, Mines of Iron, and Lead:
His Rivers, Trees, Ayr, Gold, and Silver bred:
In ordering them, there was an higher hand,
Which to conjunction did them both Command,
And strange such opposites should mixed be
In every thing in equal Harmony:
But that Usurper got the upper ground;
And under his our Essence strictly bound,
So that he Lord was, ours a slave, and thus
He thought for aye, to Lord it over us.
O how I raged! O how the fire flew
From my bright eyes; how I shook Hell you knew
Full well, But yet no way there was that I
For to release our essence could espy,
I a sworn Foe to Harmony did gret
At Heart, to see our essence bound; and fret
Did to behold my mortal Foe to sport
Himself on Earth, and call it his own Court.
Making a Paradise of it; whilst there
I for to set a foot did scarcely dare:
O how I long'd for a confusion, and
To have my Essence like to his Command;
To vex me more, and to encrease his blisse,
He made a Man for to enjoy all this;
By what I thought would hurt me most of all
Gained I have the Rule of Earth's fair Ball:
No way our Essence to release was left
But by the fall of Man; alwayes to sift

I then began: In Paradise there stood
A Tree, was partly evil, partly good;
This was to Man prohibited; Love knew
If he should eat thereof, what would ensue;
For by that meanes alone our Essence might
Released be; Loves Essence put to flight.
I then bestir'd my self, and by my guiles
Made them to eat thereof, who poor exiles
Do now repent their fact: their Joy, and Blisse,
And every thing on earth subverted is.
Our essence now doth ev'ry where appear
And like it self begins to domineer;
Now we'l command the Earth; Love's essence scoff:
For I intend you shall be Lords thereof.
Are not we mighty now? who like to us?
Hah! who can match us, when we can do thus?
Our Foe who thought in Earth to captivate
Us, prison'd is: thus alter'd is our state!
But let us now provide for th' Future: Gain
We may a Kingdom better than maintain
It being got. Our Foe hath footing there
Still, who will strive for to regain his share,
And beat us back again; the which he can
Ne'r do, but by redeeming fallen Man.
About him all our strife will be; for Love
Still loves this Man all Creatures else above;
For him I know his Forces he'l engage,
Therefore the World must be the fighting stage
For our two Powers: He'd not let us have one
Would Man obey him, or with him Conjoyn.
But wee'l deal well enough: his Paradise
Now cann't be seen; wee'l set before Man's eyes
The Earth's vain pleasures, which shall captivate
Him to us; rob him of his future state:
For present Pleasures far more pleasing are
Than those hereafter promis'd few know where.

Wee'l have a thousand wayes (experience
Shall make you masters in our Arts Commence)
For to beguile poor Man: wee'l do it tho
We nothing gain by it, to rob our Foe
Of his delights: But Man is mighty great
Without him our Kingdom cann't be compleat,
Which is exceeding vast, you know it wants
To fill each corner such inhabitants.
Who most men gain shall, I with Love do vie,
Nor can he Man's Soul Correct more than I.
He without Man cannot his Wonders show,
Nor I without him what my power can do:
Therefore when one you gain'd have to your lore,
He'l sooner gain to you a thousand more.
But all of you mark this: No Soul doth come
In flesh: no Babe springs from its Mothers womb,
But that my Foe a little spark doth place
The which he calls his Image, or his Grace,
Within the Centre of its Soul. This then
You must endeavour to root out of Men,
And in its place, place mine, for that once gon
He's perfect with us, and is sure our own.
But if extinguish it you cann't; I say
Smother't with the World's pleasures what you may,
And be you sure it ne'r begins to glow,
For if it does the better gains our Foe.
I know you will be circumspect; therefore
To such free Agents, need I say no more,
But go, and do your work; maintain our might
Within the World, against Love's power fight:
My ayd you shall not want.

Go mighty Prince
Lord of the ayr, with all your Forces hence
March to the lower Orb: Do thou abide
I'th' Airy Regions; over storms preside,
Tempests, and blust'ring Winds: Do thou direct
Some naughty influence, from bad aspect
To new-born Infants: with blasts mildews, blites,
Afflict the Earth, and spoil her best delights.

Mighty Baalzebub follow him, and be
Thou Lord of discord, plagues, discordancy;
Man, Beast, and Earth, falls under thy large Lot:
Do thou Men disunite; send murrain, rot
Among the Beasts; send Locusts, vermine, and
Do what thou canst for to afflict the Land.
Great Belial, with thousand Legions wend
Thou next into the Earth, thy Forces bend
To make of no effect Love's goodnesse, seek
Holy Idea's in Man's mind to break,
Disturb his intellect, Chymera's vain
Strange untrue fancies cause thou in his brain.
Next Pithon go with thy innumerable
Legions of Dæmons, be throu strong, and able
For to pervert the Truth, infatuate
Man's understanding; Cause him Truth to hate.
Potent Samaeliel Sathan Enemy
To Love, and goodnesse, thou thy Forces try
Justice for to pervert; Wrath, Terror, Ire,
Disperse th'row out the World; set all on fire
And bring confusion if thou canst. For us
Do thou destroy all things Asmodeus;
Thou fiery Spirit raise such to the seat
Of greatnesse, who Love's Forces may defeat:
With Pride, and Cruelty indue them. Hie
Thou next with thy Troops bitter Meriri:
Seek thou to hinder Man's perfection,
Disturb his happinesse, and union
With our Foe Love: and let thy Pride expresse
Thy high, and mighty Forces statelinesse.
Next march swift Asteroth; to men of Parts
Make known our secrets, Sciences, and Arts:
Let't be thy work continually to fill,
Their busie brains, with our delighting skill.
Ten thousand Legions I assign to thee
Abaddon Spirit of Impiety:
Take thou away all comfort: sicknesse, death,
Destruction cause to all that are beneath
Thy power. Mammon tho the last, not least,
For thy power reach shall from the West, to East;

See that that thou all dost cause the world to love,
Preside o're riches, and all things that move
Below the Moons sphear: tie the world to Man
And they cann't mount unto Loves Kingdom then.
Under your banners march may those mixt sp'rits
For usual scouts to scare: black shades and Nights
Hobgoblins, Lemures, Ast'ral spirits to talk
About the fields; some in Church yards to walk:
Ghosts, Fairies, Night-mares, dark trricula's,
Affrighting Spectres, haunting Empusa's,
Cadds, airy Dæmons, strange Phantasms, and
Legions of other sp'rits to fill the band.
Press closer numerous swarm; your ranks disclose;
Let yon' brave Princes nigher draw: repose
My chiefest strength in them I do; for us
With man their fight will still be cominus.
I know they'r active: you great Dæmons show
Them where to fight, let them alone to do,
Do you dispose them: let the airy Prince
Cast mans nativity: then learn from thence
His inclinations; then may you choose
Which of these Princes you had best to use:
Which will most fitting be; where one cann't come
Another may, and have a spacious room.
Brave Pride who art so like to us, you shall
Be constitute Lieutenant General:
Next under thee let Envy march: to thee
Grand Avarice, the third allotted be.
Then furious Wrath, Dispaire, and Jelousie,
March with your bands: and let Idolatry

Go next. Adult'ry, Lying, Drunkennesse.
Lust, Luxury, Theft, march you next to these.
Hypocrisie, your twy-fac'd bands in order
Set: them march after Perjury, and Murther:
Swearing, and Blasphemy; your charge is thus:
By any means to gain Man's Soul to us:
Take all advantages, and bravely fight
Against our Foes, the Troops of Love, and Light.
I need to say no more; nor need I fear
But I shall overcome all Men; when here
I see such mighty powers: who can withstand
Your mighty Forces, and Hel's powerful Band?
Go, and the World possesse: I doubt not now
But Man to us, and Love's Prince too shall bow.
The Stygian Princes bow their snaky heads,
And Joy their Captain in their Faces reads:
Io they hisse, and from their sulph'ry throats,
Belch out ten thousand loud confused notes.
Then from their Centre thousand Myriads go,
Of teter Stygian Bands, where here below,
The Earth, the ayr, and the vast hollownesse
Betwixt the Cerurle sky, and Earth possesse
They do: And all combin'd are to annoy
Man, and his Soul immortal to destroy.
Black Death triumphing with a sable Bow,
The Earth with armes displayed marcheth too:
Where murthering Hag, her skilful hand to try,
With fatal Darts made Abel's life to flye:
The first that ever yielded mortal breath;
The first that ever felt the Dart of Death.
And thus this World her misery indu'd
Which guilty Adam's crime, and Sin pursu'd.

Can Man escape such powers as these? can he
In safety sleep? or one poor minute be
Secure? what can defend him from these armes?
Or who repel may Sathan's threat'ned harmes?
Spirits encounter Spirits must: The Light
World, that alone must match the dark Worlds might.

The Prince of Love, of Light, of Peace, of Truth,
Beholds poor Man, and his sad state with Ruth:
And tho Man's guilt brought down this sad distresse,
He Love immense doth still to him expresse:
And lest that mighty Wrath his Soul devour,
He will protect him with his mighty Power.
Heav'n's brighter Bands he therefore Convocates,
And thus his Royal Will to them relates.

Blest Princes of this lighter World! and ye
Vast Troops indu'd with immortality!
Know; Man for whom a Paradise we made,
By his own folly is to Wrath betray'd.
He hath deserted us: this happy Realm
Hath lost; now misery doth overwhelm
Him; and our Image in obscurity
Doth buried by the World's grosse Spirit lye.
Wrath's Principle hath poysoned the Earth,
Spoyl'd Paradise with his infectious Breath:
He now triumphs. But what lose we? 'tis Man
That suffers most for his own folly, then
Shall we desert him? leave him to his Foe?
Strict Justice might; but Love cannot do so:
Can fier cool? or can cold Water burn?
No more can I from this my nature turn:
Nor his neglect, nor his strange follies move
May me to Wrath. O no! I still am Love.
My nature cannot change: I pity have;
I must, I will endeavour Man to save.
So long as he my Image doth retain,
Although obscur'd; I'le seek him to regain
To me, and that immortal spark divine,
Shall like the Sun in its fair splendor shine.
Can I the Principle of Wrath dethrone
Out of his heart, and th' out Worlds, he's my own.
Wrath's Principle although he triumphs now,
One day again shall to our Powers bow:
The Earth a Paradise shall be, and then
All things shall turn to Harmony agen:
My Foe shall then be captivate: Man shall
Most happy live upon the outward Ball.

Six dayes first past must be: that principle
Thousands of souls shall to its centre pull
I'th' intrim: I mans nature too must take
My self; and dy, that I wraths power may break:
This I'le effect, such love to man I bear.
We are as strong as wrath; we need not fear;
His fires, our waters shall put out: our Dove
Shall fight his Dragon. Nought's so strong as Love.
Nor Death, nor Hell can conquer it. The wrath
Already sent hath his black Legions forth
Into the Earth. Poor man's in danger; hast
Unto his succour: Let your Troops be plac't
Just opposite unto those teter bands
Which Hells Generalissimo commands.

Arch-Prince of Angels MICHAEL; of all
Heavens brighter Legions be thou General:
Conduct our forces to Earths Orb, and there
Oppose the Dragon, bid man not to fear
His stygian crue. Do thou match Satan, and
To his dark troops oppose thy brighter band.
Maintain thou Love and Justice, 'gainst his might
Do thou with equal force and valour fight.
All heaven's Host attend thee shall, and let
Some powerful Angel o're the stars be set,
To let their male-conjunctions, and thence
For to direct their better influence
Unto the Earth: to cause the seasons due,
Unto the Earth, her pleasures to renue.
And thou Mittatron thy strong Legions place
In rank and order 'gainst Baalzebubs face:

Do you unite; whilest he doth discord move
Conjoyn thou all in amity and love.
Whilst that he causes Battails, Plagues and Dearth,
Thou peace, and health, and fructifie the earth.
Next Caphtiel 'gainst Belial thy foe,
With Myriads of brighter Angels go:
Illuminate man's minde, and make him see,
For his distraction Belial's policie:
His stranger fancies cause to vanish quite,
And of my goodnesse let him have a sight.
Go Jophiel and hinder Python's force,
Obstruct his vile infatuating source;
Exhibit truth to Man: open his eyes
That he may clearly see grosse Python's lies.
Ten thousand Legions take thou Ptsadkiel,
And bravely meet the firy Asmodel:
Be thou as well as he concomitant
With Princes, keep them that they may not vaunt
Of their high state: Let Pride and Cruelty
Be banish'd from them, let humility
Supply their place: whilst that he raiseth jars,
Cause Amity; oppose thy Peace to Wars.
Bright Prince Uriel, flags of light display,
And 'gainst Meriri with thine march away:
Stop thou his full career, and se that you
With wisdome and true happinesse endue
Man; give him eyes to see perfection
If that with us he will have union.
Cœlestial Raphiel next march thou forth
With thy brave cohorts against Astaroth:
Show thou to man our glory, and our skill,
Our abstruce secrets; with light Magic fill
Him, give him knowledge, understanding, and
Wit to eschew Astaroths subtle band:
Guard thou his health; divert the fatal knife,
And keep off all attempts against his life.
Next Haniel your Legions compleat,
Let your battalions 'gainst Abaddons meet:
With equal courage fight you band to band:
Provoke to piety, bring comfort, and

Solace: Root out Wrath's image, in its place:
He instrumental to infer my Grace.
Strong Gabriel, with courage meet thy Foe,
And with thy Troops, 'gainst mighty Mammon go:
Dissolve Man's fear, inject the fear of me,
Loose from the World his Soul, and set him free
From Avarice; exhibit to his eye
Heav'n's glorious Riches, and vast Treasury:
Observe the motions of great Mammon, fight
At every turn, with that stiff opposite.
Under your Banners to the Orb below
May brightnesses, and beams of Glory go:
Light apparitions, sweet and pleasing noyses,
Tinkling of Bells, and other sacred voyces,
For to attract the mind, to our bless'd Sphear,
T'expel Teares, sadnesse, and disturbing Fear.
Let every Country have a Guardian:
And let a Genius wait on every Man.

Give way, and let these Princes Congregate,
Who with your help will Man felicitate,
And bravely strive with all those Troops that ride
So daringly under the Flag of Pride.
Humility Prince of this Train, first go
Into the Earth, confront thy prideful Foe
With all thy force: whilst he elates do thou
Inflect mens hearts: make them not scorn to bow.
To thee Prince Love I joyn, whose power, and might
Makes Hel's black bands to tremble at his sight:
O how they fear him! Against all I send
Thee; chiefly though thy force 'gainst envy bend,
Rush on their blacker Troops; let Malice, Hate
Envie's Companions feel thy Force's weight.
'Gainst Avarice, march Liberality.
And Truth, against twy-fac'd Hypocrisie.
Meeknesse meet thou stern Wrath: Strength, Courage, Hope,
Do thou with sad Despair most bravely Cope.
Zeal march Idolatry Faith wing the Souls
Of men, and bear them higher than the Poles:
By thee they shall possesse this Kingdom e're
Their prison'd Souls have left the other Sphere:

By thee Hel's poyson, shall dispelled be;
Custom of sinning 'fore thy Troops shall flee.
Go Wisdom with your Troops. And Innocence
With Resignation joyn; Obedience
With Uprightnesse: oppose to guilt and guile,
To stubbornnesse, and disobedience vile.
Go Continence, and chast Virginity,
Resist thou Lust, thou wanton Luxury.
Light vanquish thou dark mists, and clouds of Error;
Joy, bitter Sadnesse: Peace disturbing Terror.
Go bravely now, Hel's force, and strength resist,
My Power, and Magic shall you still assist.

Strait from their Centre these light Troops do go,
To help poor Man against his Stygian Foe;
Who else would be devoured soon; all still
Do eagre strive to do their Master's will:
Magic opposeth Magic: Spirits, Spirits.
Man's will can not be forc'd: He still inherits
A Kingly freedom; neither World Constrain
Man to do what he does; they seek to gain
His full assent, or else 'tis nothing worth:
For what if one should with a sword, in Wrath
Destroy my Corpse? or fling me in the Sea
From some high Rock? What? should I guilty be,
Unlesse that I with my free will had gon,
And voluntary sought destruction?
Sinn's not without assent: Nor lyes it in
B'ing tempted, but in yielding lyes the sin.
Is God so hard to punish us, think you,
For sin if we no otherwise can do?
Have we no power to will the good? O sad!
If God should punish if we will the bad.
And yet you see most wills seem captivate
To ill: in this we'r like an Infant, that
Chooseth some bauble when a Jewel too
With it expos'd was to his choyce and view:
He's not constrain'd, he chuse may which he will:
So we through ignorance oft chuse the ill.
Man's will is free. Both Worlds strive with their might,
For this their powers so eagerly do fight.

Hell tempt, allures, attracts, and draws, and still
A thousand wayes, seeks for to gain man's will.
Love, with his agents draw the other way,
Exhibite, Glory, Brightnesse, Riches, Joy
Spiritual: To this man now doth bend
His will, anon doth to the other tend.
The more that Satan gains of him, the less
His will he doth unto the good express:
The more heav'n gains of him, the more he still
Eschewes the bad, turns to the good his will.
In this there are degrees: coaction may
Befall me, when my Will another way
Propends: like one who to the place doth go
Where he must executed be: ye know,
Without his will his body would not move,
And yet that thing he wills he doth not love:
His will's yet free, that cann't be forc'd: refuse
He cannot Death, yet it he doth not choose.
So often times to Man it may befall,
That he may do what he not wills at all.
Man wills not wholly ill, untill that he
With Hell in union and conjunction be;
Then he's a devil. Hell to ill propends
Wholly; as God to good for ever tends.

The powers of both the worlds now being sent
Into this Orb begin their bickerment:
Wrath's forces strive, and ADAM's first born Cain
They get: the light world's forces ABEL gain.
Since when they still have fought, their forces faile
Nor, nor e're shall: stout wrath seem'd to prevail
Continually. Under his power the world
He quickly got; therefore God's Justice hurld
The fleeting waters o're the Earth, which drown'd
All creatures, but what in the Ark were found.

How many men had he in Sodom got,
When Love amongst them had but one poor Lot.
Thus Hell prevail'd until the Prince of Love
Himself came down from his bright Throne above,
Indu'd with humane flesh: an overthrow
He gave to Hell; who rues that fatal blow:
For since that time Loves banners were display'd
Th'rowout the Orb; Hells strength and force decay'd.

Whilst thus these powers for man contend, and be
In sharpest Wars; upon the mortal tree
Man lives, his food which to his pallate suits
Best, are its various and delicious fruits.
This is the Tree of Good and Evil: for
The Fruits themselves tho' good, nor evil are,
Yet (as the Plannet Mercury) incline
To either, as they are to whom they joyn.
'Tis not the grosser part that feeds thereon,
But 'tis the soul, the highest part of man.
The flesh hath fleshly food; the soul likewise
Feeds, but on choice and more varieties.
This Tree is good for food; such choice of fruits
It hath, that it conveniently suits
With every soul; so large and fairly spread
That with its branches East, and West are wed.
These then the fruits are. Here hangs natural Wit,
And Judgement, which humane affaires doth fit.
Here a propriety in goods, and Lands,
Self Interest; Love to relations hangs
On this Bow; here an innate doing right
Pends; here hangs Riches, yon' unto the fight

Appears the lovely fruit of Beauty; there
Sports to refresh the mind, and Body are.
Here Honours hang, and high promotions;
Plenty of Goods, and great possessions.
Here dangles Pleasures, here Morality,
Good Carriage, Parts, and civil honesty.
Degrees of State, whence Kings, and Lords arise,
Earles, Barrons, Knights, Gentry, Nobilities:
Here Power, and Authority; and here
This Bow innate Concupiscence doth bear.
On th' other side all manual Arts, and Trades,
In clusters hang, among the greener shades.
Here you may find both Grammer, Rhetoric,
With Logic, opticks, and Arithmetic:
Musick, Physicks, Metaphysicks too,
With Geometry hang dangling in your view;
Astronomy, and Geography there,
Astrologie, and Surgery appear.
Here nat'ral Magic; and Theology,
Accompan'ed with antique Poetry;
Here Chimistry, Ethicks, œconomicks,
Phisosophy all sorts, and Politicks,
With many more do grow. This is the food
Which Man's Soul eats, and finds it very good.
If that you well revolve these in your mind,
Nor Good, nor Bad them in themselves you'l find;
Yet may to poyson be converted, or
Made wholsome nourishment convenient for
Man's soaring Soul. Here the two opposite
Worlds forces often meet, and strongly fight.
Both would his Cooks be, both desire to carve,
Both willingly would at his Table serve,
That they their Tinctures might infuse; for meats
Do operate much in his Soul that eates,
For Beauty (which a pleasant harmony
Of Blood, and humours is, just symmetry
Of all the parts) no evil is: nor is't
A sin to have it, or a sin to miss't:
Yet Sathan this to poyson may convert,
If thorow it he should elate the heart;

Make those that it possesse, make 't nothing worth
By spending precious Time to set it forth.
Sathan endeavours thorow it to cause
Pride, and to make them greedy of applause,
To dresse it forth with highest vanities:
To make adorers with their wanton eyes:
Then Lust creeps in, with other sins; and thus
Beauty though good is evil made to us.
Loves Forces strive if thou hast Beauty, to
Make it most wholsom, and good food for you:
He'd make thee Chast, and strive his Grace to set,
As Jewels in so fair a Cabinet.
Vertue shines brightest in a beauteous frame,
That graceth Beauty: Beauty to the same
Adds splendor. Oft the Beauty of the Soul
Is disregarded in a Face that's foul.
Therefore if thou art beautiful, thou art
More fit to serve God with a purer heart;
For is't not fit that he who Beauty gave,
Before all others should thy Beauty have?
Thus pleadeth Love, who'd make it good; and thus
It may be made both Good, and ill to us.
To ill the Devil would convert thy Wit,
And understanding, by employing it
In vanities, or some ill Arts, or by
Converting it to guile, or subtilty.
Loves power would draw it unto goodnesse, and
His sacred Mysteries to understand
Cause, by converting it to Wisdom; so
Wit may our Friend be, or may be our Foe.
All Arts and Sciences may be abus'd,
Made Good if rightly, Bad if wrongly us'd.
So nat'ral knowledge us indammage may,
But do great good if it we well employ.
So whilst that we inspect Astrology,
Or the starres motions by Astronomy
View; we may there Gods Wonders contemplate,
Which may to Earth our eager Love abate:
Whilst we in Natural Magic look, and see
The various Wonders that there hidden be.

We may with greater ardour praise his Name,
Who out of nothing, thus all things did frame.
Thus it redound may to God's glory: But
It by temptation we do solely put
Our mindes therein, or greater things neglect
For them, or to the stars an indirect
Power ascribe; or natural Magic passe
To necromancy, or Hells arts, alas!
How are we lost! thus recreations
May help the mind; or prove temptations
To greater ills. Thus Logick may be bent
For to maintain Errors by Argument,
And Syllogisms, when the Truth it shou'd
Alone maintain: Thus bad it proves: Thus good.
So Rhetoric with all its figures may
A false cause to Truth's prejudice display.
What may do greater good, than may the Tongue?
And yet what is there that doth greater wrong?
So Eloquence which should to heaven invite,
By Satans means doth unto Hell excite.
How good a fruit's divine Theology!
Yet it by Satan may corrupted be:
How many Errors, Schisms, Heresies,
Strange Fancies, Whimsies, horrid Blasphemies
Hath sprung from those who thus have study'd, by
Our Adversarie's subtle ingeny
Caus'd! Musick Satan doth impoyson too,
And makes more hurt, than good by it accrue
To most; for those, whose minds he doth possesse,
It stirs to Lust, provokes to wantonness:
Allures to riot, and to vanity:
Thus is't the fruit made of the evil Tree.
When that it should (so minds to Heav'n erect
Do find it) unto happiness direct
Our fleeting thoughts, and by those warbling measures
Ravish our souls from earth, to Heavens pleasures:
Make us to enter contemplation
Of those sweet voices, which before the Throne
Sing evermore with Halalujahs; raise
Our duller spirits; and make us sing with praise

Heav'n's mercies to us; and above the poles
Divinely carry our harmonious souls;
Where in a kind of extasie, a bliss
Not to be spoke they find. Thus good it is.

And now my heart glows with a sacred fire,
Just is my zeal, nor sinful is my ire,
'Gainst those vitiators who in these our times
Make Poesie hateful, by their wanton rithmes;
Who feel no sacred, glowing heats; who prize
No flames, but what come from their Mistress' eyes.
Leave off you looser rithmers, cease your pains,
For shame, and trouble shall be all your gains.
Abuse no longer what in times of old
God hath himself made use of to unfold
His sacred Mysteries, nor let it be
Made by you thus fruit of the evil Tree.
Luxurious wits who feed on Poetry
Are thus by subtle Satan drawn awry,
Whilst they the creame of wit do spend, to grace
With Eulogies some disproportion'd face.
Let these low lines you witty ones excite
Your ready quills, on some such theame to write,
Then shall mine cede to yours: not while you erre
And mortal beauties do to heav'n preferre
The end of Poesy is the praise of God,
Us'd to that end it is exceeding good.

The food of man's soul thus describ'd you see,
The fruits are of the the good and evil Tree,
Which may be made, or good, or bad or so
Bring Man to blisse, or everlasting woe.
Therefore take heed to Satans subtle traine,
That by these fruits thy soul he may not gain,
For here he shews his cunning, and his skill,
To make thee, only feed upon the ill.
Heav'n's forces strive, and if thou wilt obey,
This Tree shall be the Tree of good, and joy:
And since we must upon it feed we shou'd
Eschew the Evil, and accept the Good.

The subtle Serpent, our sworn foe, with his
Vast Troops, do use to keep us from our bliss

A thousand wayes: a thousand stratagems
And tricks he hath: he round about behemms
Our yielding Souls; and round about he sets
To catch us fast, his strong, and wide spread nets:
Hel's Troops like Ants do never idle stand.
But move about Earth's mighty Moles, and
All wayes to gain the Soul of Man do try;
Which got they straight send to Hel's Treasury.
Sometimes he this makes use of, sometimes that,
This serves for this that for another Plot.
Sometime the Starres, and their bad influence
As instruments he uses; and from whence
He oft assaults poor Man. MARS stirs to wrath,
And blood, SATURN to Avarice, and sloth:
MERC'RIE to Theft: Ambition JUPITER,
VENUS to Lust, and the cold MOON, to err.
His wayes innumerable are, and mount
Unto infinity; the starres you count
May first, or sands that on the shore do lye.
He'l suit all Humours: By their humours try
To work for his advantage. To excesse
Of feeding this man, that to drunkennesse,
He doth provoke. Leads this to Pride; to Lust
Another: this to doing things unjust
To lying, Theft, Adultery, Perjury,
And to all manner of iniquity.
But meets he with a studious Man, or one
Who hath got conquest o're his passion,
Unto grosse sins he doth not tempt them, he
Their strength doth know; therefore with policy
His shape he changes, and with subtle guile
Corrupts their knowledge; and with errours vile
Their Brains doth fill: if in Theology
Their study be; their errours are more high.
A prying mind finds he in men of Parts,
He subtlely draws them to his blacker Arts,
Where with most strange delusions them delude
And thus himself in every one intrude
He will; and suting to their inclination
With cunning Art, unseen work their destruction.

But sees he now some who in earnest be
To leave the World, who would their Spirits free
From his sad bondage, bid this Earth adiew,
And would with Heav'n a stricter league renew:
Uprightly walk, and very closely presse
To find that Gate that leads to happinesse,
Out of this Earth; thus cunningly he deals,
So soon as he their working pulses feels.
A mighty Circle 'fore the gate he draws,
The which scarce touched is with Heaven's Rayes:
Those then who presse toward this Gate, anon
Fall into this Fantastic Region.
For so it is they in a Circle run,
Blinded, and groping, wanting heat, and Sun.
A little Light, as at a crevice flows
Into the place, the which these umbra's shows
Unto their hood-winck'd eyes: Formes, Government,
Words, Literal sence, Disputes, and Cavilment,
Concerning Ceremonies, Judging, and
Self-gathering in a more righteous Band.
With these they sport themselves, who (like that fire
That in the Night leads people th'row the mire,
And 'bout the Field) do cause these blind ones stray,
In oblique pathes, and hinder from the way
They should have ta'n. In this same Region
All Sects, as in a misty Circle run.
Here gropes the Presbyter, whose rigid sp'rit
Is took for zeal: beclouded too with night
In this dark Region's th' Independant who
Hath a more pleasing sp'rit, and better hue.

The Dippers here do wash their scaly eyes,
And round about the bolder Ranter flies,
Here the severer Quakerist, and here
Fift Monarchists; Enthusiasts appear,
With other Sects, and Fanaticks, and all
Who pressing forward stay, or catch a fall.

For such whose love to heaven, caus'd them press
Towards that gate that leads to happiness,
Once enter'd here, it is more hard to finde
Then 'twas before they entered this blinde
Phantastic place: passe this forme, that, try there
Another, round them all, yet where you were
At first you are; nor are more neer the gate
In this same sect now, then you were in that.
Help't by some Angel, or some brighter ray,
Of all these Sects some may invene the way
Out of this Region, and may finde the gate
Which all that Heaven find must enter at.
All it endeavour: can we justly blame
Them, when they grope about to find the same?
Alas! though some do almost touch it, yet
Through blindnesse they can have no power to see't.
The way's not Sects, nor formes of pleasing sence,
But Truth, and Life, to Christ obedience.

Tho Satan tempteth all men unto sin,
And doth desire they should inhabite in
His harsh-dark, principle, and rather then
He'd any loose, a thousand wayes for men
He trys, as by this worlds law pleasures, yet
He'd rather man should like a Prince be set
Then like a slave in his great Kingdom; there
Both high and low degrees of places are:
They nearer to, or farther from his Throne
Are set, as they with him have union.
Those whom this worlds low pleasures catch, or those
Who by Lust, Lying, Wrath, or Envy goes
To this dark world; are kind of underlings,
And are like Subjects to Hells greater Kings.
But those who to greater perfection
Arrive, and who have stricter union

With Hell; and those who knew his Magic's might
Advanc'd are, and their states are higher pight.
These do become Princes in Wrath, and these
He loveth most; for they his nature please,
Are one with him; these do his Wonders show
And make his mighty power known below.
These are his Agents, Saints, beloved ones,
Are more than servants: these become his Sons.
Heav'n thirsts not more to have one perfect here
To make his Glory, and his might appear,
Than Hell; who as tho Elder Brother show
His Magic first shall on this Earth below.
Therefore it first I will describe, and tell,
The Power, Nature, Might, and Pomp of Hell.

Mundus tenebrosus vel tartareus.

Suppose the mighty Prince of darknesse wou'd
Himself incarnate, vail with with fleshly Hood
His Stygian Face; to shew the power, and might
Of the vast Kingdom of Æternal Night,
Upon this Earth: He finds a man propense
From genial starres to ill; a mind immense
After abstruser prying; piercing Wit
Grave look and studious; such a Man is fit
For this his high design. First then he strait
Causes his Princes on his elbow wait,
With all Hel's agents, who in clusters presse
T'imbue his Soul with deep dy'd wickednesse,
By their infernal Magic; they convert
The mortal Tree's fruit to the Evil part.
He feeds on ill, the which his Soul doth stain;
His freer will unto themselves they gain:
And by degrees, his sences please, that he
Desireth they should his Companions be.
They promise then if he'l obedient
Be; with what power, and Regiment

They will indue him, His high mind doth come,
And Hel's disciple doth at last become.
Some Angel then Hel's mighty Prince assignes
To wait on him; he good converse declines:
The Dæmons laugh to see him captivate,
And scoff the Angels of the other state.
Seeing that he obedient is, they now
Cause him unto Hel's Image for to bow:
And as the Prince of Heav'n commandeth his
A way to gain, the same, to shun Heav'ns blisse
Hel's Prince commands. He from the World abstract
Must be, lest that his deeper thoughts detract
From that high work he doth intend him for:
He fastings, vigils, doth command him; nor
Lesse prayers than the other World requires,
Washings, and Ceremoies he desires:
And also that he should be Celebate,
Thus like an Ape he God doth imitate
In all his biddings, th' better to beguile
Man, with his high deceits, and cunning vile.
He spares him in grosse sins, it may be too,
Lest they with pinguitude his Soul imbue,
And make's lesse apt to search those hidden arts,
Which Hell to his obedient ones imparts.
But if he in them Master will Commence,
He must attain it by obedience
To whatsoever Hell commands; for he
Must gain the Will, then act by sympathy.

He now it may be for some yeares hath serv'd
This Principle, nor from his Laws hath swerv'd,
But still obedient been: nor his desire
Thereto doth slack, implete with hellish fire.
His serving Dæmon still attending too,
With Stygian vigor doth his heart imbue:
Pleases his fancy with some stranger art,
Hels sacramental Mysteries impart
He doth; till at the last he doth bequeath
To him the fruits of the black Tree of Death.
Rough hairy Satyrs with their cloven feet
And staring eyes if that a stranger meet

Should, all alone in some dark Wood and night,
How pitifully would they him affright.
Or any other ill-shap'd monster, yet
A frequent sight no wonder would beget:
And should such Satyrs often be with him,
No whit at all affrightful would they seem.
So those dark Spirits apparitions might,
Man's weaker sences at the first affright.
But after some familiarity
No fear at all would be; especially
To those whose natures, as their natures be,
In a strict league with Hell; and would be such
Did not their Souls in a flesh'd body couch.
Toads are not venomous to Toads; nor is
The Lion truculent to those of his
Kind; nor are Monsters frightful unto theirs:
Satyrs to Satyrs, nor are Bears to Bears:
So Man whose Soul's drench'd in the Stygian pool;
Thinks not Hel's worst deformed spirits soul.
And this they know, or else I do suppose
They'd not so boldly their strange shapes disclose.
Hel's mighty Prince sees now his servant fit
To see his Kingdoms pomp: he doth commit
The charge thereof to some great Prince, who goes
To him, and thus his message doth disclose.

Hel's mighty Monarch, Prince of Acheron;
Great Duke of Styx, Primate of Phlegiton,
Of Lethe Earl, great Lord of Cocytus,
Of deep Avernus, Orcus, Erebus,
And of the whole dark World; best part of this
Gain'd by his forces, and now joyn'd to his;
My soveraign Leige, hath sent me unto you
His faithful servant, with his leave to shew
Our Kingdom's glory, whereby you may see
That you do serve no petty Majesty.
Our high and mighty Prince, hath had regard
To all your services, he now reward
Will your fidelity: he Crowns, and thrones
As well as LOVE hath for his faithful ones.

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A Throne, and Crown he hath prepar'd for thee,
And of our Kingdom thou a Peer shalt be,
When thou this Body shalt put off, and set
Thy Soul at liberty, which now doth let
Perfect enjoyment: In the mean time tho,
This favour's granted, that I thee may show
Our pomp, and Glory: art thou willing? say!
To whom Hel's servant thus without delay.
Great Prince and servant to our soveraign King,
What joyful news is this that you do bring!
I scarce contain my Soul. What? shall I see
The glory of his Stygian Majesty
E'r I depart this VVorld? this favour would
More strictly bind me his, and if I could
Be more his than I am: what in this Ball
I have, I willing am to part withall
To purchase this: Love's great inticements, I
Abhor, and do spontaneously deny.
Come let us go, I burn with strong desire,
For to be in, and see this Orb of Fire.
Hel's Nuncio thus speaks. Valiant heart, delay
I will not: thou thy hearts desire enjoy
Shalt; and when thou hither returnest, then
Thou shalt be Hel's highest Magitian;
Such gifts we will bestow: and thou shalt see
Before thou back returnst, what Gifts they be.
Your staffe is needlesse; nor your Horse you need,
For I am able to make greater speed,
For whilst that you can ride a League, assoon
I can be mounted higher than the Moon:
I can transport your Corpse, no need of that
There is, at this time; for our Journey's not
So great; only make fast your Closet door
That none may enter to disturb you: for
Your Body here shall lye: Then shall you see,
How nimble Spirits without Bodies be.
You misse it shall not for you'l think you bear
It still, but feel it lighter than the Ayr.
Alasse! that is a prison to the Soul,
She free from that, is then without controul;

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Nor could that bear indeed, what you will feel
Be'ing made of flesh, nay were it made of steel
It could not, 'twould consumed be: your sp'rit
Can bear the punctions of eternal Night,
Being in union with us, and may passe
Into our Kingdom; for your Nature as
Ours is, your sences will be open too,
You'l think you see, feel, hear, as now you do.
But why do I forestal you thus? Delay
I will no longer: Come I'le lead the way.

This spy'd: his hand upon his eyes he lay's,
To which Ethæan stupor he conveighs;
Down falls his Carcasse like a Trunck bereft
Of Life; no sence is in his Body left:
His Spirit's fled, and by Hel's Fiend is brought
Into that Kingdom, switter than a Thought.
Thus then he felt himself. He was like one
Who in his sleep sees some strange Vision.
And dreams himself awake; but yet doth find
Some kind of misty Atoms, which do blind
His sight from a clear view. He thus at first
Did find himself, untill he farther thrust
Was from's attractive Corpse: He nimbly than
And with a clearer sight to mount began.
Thus then his Jornal was. Nor Moon, nor Sun,
Nor any other Star upon him shon;
But yet not quite of Light devoy'd, he had
Such as wherewith a misty ev'ning's clad,
A kind of twylight: Earth, nor raging Seas,
Nor any thing but misty ayr he sees.
A circling Cloud darker then pitch appears,
Vast, and of huge extent; aloft it rears
In forms of Cliffs, and pointed Rocks. The Sp'rite
Thus speaks: these pitchy, cloudy mounts in sight,
Impale our Kingdom? 'Tis Avernus call'd
With such continued Rocks our Kingdom's wall'd.

102

This is the Entry. Here involved lies
Continual Light, none there a Ray espies
Of any Light: part of this Rock God threw
In 't Ægypt, when that thicker darknesse flew
Th'row out the Land; our dearest servants he
With our own weapons plagues continually.
'Tis not so dark within the pale: now this
Is caused by Antiperistasis:
And that cold Region which ingendreth hail,
And thunder (which when Icy clouds assail
Each other's made) becomes so violent
From two contraries, which from both sides sent,
Causes its forces shrink together; so
More violent, pent in lesse room they grow.
This darknesse then flies from that Light within,
And from the Light World's shine; so lies between,
Shrouding together, pressing close, and thick,
Fast cleaving, closely doth together stick.

These palpable dark clouds they enter; where
He doth a thousand shreeks, and howlings hear,
Cursings, Blasphemings, swearing, murmuring voyces,
Bellowing, with a thousand ugly noyses;
But horrid darknesse so encompas'd him
That who these noyses made could not be seen;
Besides an ugly filthy stink he smelt,
An horrid tast clove to his tongue; he felt
The dark clouds presse upon him. Th'row they passe
And with swift steps leave this abhorred place.
B'ing past his truchman thus. What you did hear
Caus'd was by Spirits that inhabit there,
Who sporting were together: Teter haggs
In th' outward World feed these with shriv'led baggs,
The which they suck, There dwell the Incubi,
And Succubi; deformed Spirits lye
By millions there; those who desire to feed
On humane morsels; such who shed their seed
Into old Haggs: and these are those which they
Call down to their assistance: these obey

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To teter charmes, oyntments, perfumes, and these
Appear to them in various shapes; and please
Them with their antic Tricks: make hoggs to dance
On hinder feet, platters to skip, and prance,
With such like sports; make Cows, and Cattel languish,
And mortal men strike too with pain, and anguish:
And these old haggs command, unlesse they are
By the other World resisted, then they dare
Not do't. These are our slaves, we them command,
And when we need them on our errands send.
In these th' old Haggs delight, for often they
(Such power they have) their Bodies do conveigh
From place, to place; and often meet their sp'rights,
Their Bodies left: where fed with grosse delights,
They back return: These are our Prince's slaves
Who bring him many Souls, when that the graves
Their Bodies take: But oft times these do flye,
And tear in pieces as in sportful play
Those whom they serv'd, when that their date is out:
Now we are Princes, and alasse but flout
Those powting, Witches, when with charmes they think
To call us down t'obey their dreiry wink.
No, we stir not, but when our mighty Prince
Imposes his Commands; then wend we hence
Into the World. When that you do return
These Sp'rites you heard shall all obey your charm;
Nay we; and if our Prince that power gives,
But yet that power has no man that lives:
For to call down, an Angel of his Throne,
He first with him must have high union.

Still on they passe? upon the right hand stood
Oblivious Lethe, 'bout whose slow-pac'd flood
Lay many sleepy Sp'rites, whose office was,
From that place to the outer World to passe,
With Pitchers full of that same Water; by
Which, they brought Souls into a Lethargy;
And kind of stupor, lest the spark of Love,
Whose nature's agil' should with Life remove
Their Syncopy to goodnesse. On th' other side
About dark Erebus, as many 'bide.

104

There did, who those Erebean waves did bear
Into the Earth; which they to Souls did share
With liberal dole: the which no sooner ta'ne,
But darknesse, and obscurity remain
There dos upon their souls, which doth remove
The glowing spark of the bright Light of Love.
Further they passe, untill or last they come
Unto th' joylesse extreams of Acheron:
Here he beheld many a naked soul
Drench'd in those waves by Spirits black, and foul,
Their Faces sad, and heavy, melancholick;
(Nor were those Spirits there so brisk, and frollick
As those in other places, which it seems
Caus'd by the operation of these streams
Was) form'd like Death; Despair sat in their eyes,
And every moment caus'd new miseries.
Others apace did thence that water bear
Into the Earth, which caused sad despair,
To souls that tast thereof. Who passe this stream
Their Bodies dead, none may their souls redeem.
Over that stream they passe; when that he hears
Sad Lamentations, for the Vale of Teares
They enter'd had: sliding along the Vale
Cocytus ran; upon whose banks did wail
With lamentations sad, whole troopes of Souls,
A stream of Teares into the River rouls
From their sad eyes: Before their faces hung
Tablets of brasse, where all that they had done
In their life-time was wrot, which now renew'd
Their sorrow. This Spectacle being view'd
They further passe, where scummy Orcus ran
With fœtid waves from the cold Stygian
Lake: about whose most horrid banks he spy'd
All sorts of evil Beasts: The Stygian guide
Thus spake:

Seest thou those mighty Herds, these are
The Souls of Men, who did these natures bear
When they were on the Earth. Yond' herd of Swine
Were greedy Gluttons, who with Beer, and Wine

105

And all the dainties that the Earth did yield
Four times a day their greedy paunches fill'd:
Their belly was their God, such natures then
They had, which here they have and shall retain.
Yond' herd of Goats were lustful persons: those
Grim Currs were such who ever would oppose
Love's Reign, and Kingdom, snappish, greedy: and
Such as were lawless Lords: that grim-look'd band
Of Lions: Those rough Beares were such, who still
Dispoyl'd their Neighbours: such who rob, and pill
With subtilty, those wilely Foxes were:
Such as were envious speckled Toads now are:
Th' Avaritious Tigers, Monsters, Doggs; too long
'Twill be for to rehearse that numerous throng,
But crawling wormes, Vipers, all ugly Creatures
Are such who once exactly bore their natures
In humane shapes, which now these forms retain
And in this guise for ever shall remain.

This said they passe along: Their way they take
Directly now unto the Stygian Lake.
The Pool appears in sight, an horrid stink
Invades his nostrils, e'r he gains the brink,
Like fætid sut mixt with sulphurian fumes:
The slow-pac't Water moves with Icy scumms,
Upon its surface; than the brumal snow
Far colder 'tis: upon its banks did grow
Taxi with sable leaves: darker than ink
Or blackest pitch the water was, the brink
Dy'd was with sable hew: the froery scum
Left black impressions on the bank: a fume
More dark than Night in curling clouds arose:
The strongest poyson that on Earth's Orbs grows
Is not by the tenth part so strong as that
Cold-icy stream: thousand of Souls there sat
Shivering for cold, when strait a Troop appears
Of horrid Devils, with long flagging Eares
Down to their shoulders, saucer eyes, and lips
Of mighty magnitude, like souced tripes
Hung lower than their chins: their snaky haires
Hung over their comuted fronts: like Beares

106

Their feet, and armes were; their cruented pawes
Were arm'd with bristles, and advanced clawes:
With these they gripe those naked Souls, then on
Their shoulders hoyst them, and away they run.
Come let us follow: these the torments are
The damn'd for ever, and for ever bear,
In this same place, thus said the guiding Fiend:
With hasty steps, as fast as they, they wend,
When presently they are arriv'd upon
The burning Banks of fiery Plegeton.
In here they souse them: Crys, and shrecks they make,
But hard-heart Devils can no pity take:
Over, and over here they plunge them, then
To cold-stream'd Styx they bear them back agen,
And thus by turns these torments, with delight
They give, without a moment of respite.
Swifter than Tygris, or Danubus, this
Tartarean River runs, far hotter is
Than boyling Liquor; here it bubbles, Fumes
Which turn to Flame, flow from its Sulph'ry wombs:
The banks are lick'd by Living flames, from out.
Of gapeing chincks both fire, and brimstone spout.

This seen they further passe; not far from this
Was Tartarus, within his huge Abysse,
He look'd, and saw nothing but horrid, dark,
Obnigrous clouds: heard Wolves, and Dogges to bark,
Lions, and Tygers roar; men shreech, and wail,
Others Blaspheme, and others Curse, and rail
'Gainst Heav'n, a strange confused noyse: He smelt
Most horrid stinks: and cold damp vapours felt.
Srait wayes huge fires appear'd below, whereby
He might the Souls tormented there descry:
All sorts of torments that you can devise
With all the plagues, and all the Miseries
You can imagin he inflicted saw,
Upon those miserable Souls below.
Some torn with wheels, some with hot Tongs, their tongues
Pul'd out; and some with scalding flames their Lungs
Wash'd were, and others in the fire hung
From whence they into frozen Rivers flung

107

Were by and by: and others whip't with steel:
Others on Gridirons brent, whilst others feel
The smart of Salt, and Vineger, which laid
Is on their tender flesh, be'ing newly flead:
With divers other sorts of torments: then
From this deep pit of Hell they farther wen.

Now far they were not gon from Tartarus
When in this sort spake Hel's mystagagus.
Whilest we proceed t'our Kingdoms Centre, where
Our mighty King his Court doth keep, declare
I will, our Kingdom's first original,
When we came first into this fiery Ball;
For do not think that ignorant we be
Of our beginning, and high pedegree,
Or that we have no memory of what
We once enjoy'd: no more then Souls forget
What they in Earth have done, when they come here,
For all their deeds Eternal forms do bear
Which here remain; and which torments them more
Than in cold Styx for to be plunged o're:
Ah! Could but Souls in Lethe drenched be,
How little would they feel of misery!
But this a favour is which now I shew,
And should be granted unto none but you.

Know then there is a God, and this although
We tremble at it, we assur'dly know;
Yet that there's none we oftentimes suggest
Unto the misbelieving Atheist.
This God, or mighty Power which all Worlds fill,
Unsearchable he is, we to his Will
Obedient are, he fills our World, his Might
And Power 's as great here as in th' Orb of Light:
By it this World consists, and it shall be
Thou't had beginning, to Æternity.
'Tis not against this Power that we tear,
And rend, and fight, and so opposing are,
Ne'r to be reconcil'd: Our foe is Love,
The second Principle 'gainst that we move
In Wrath, and bitternesse, and natural
It is for us to fight against that Ball.

108

As fire cann't but tend upwards, so cann't we
But to that Orb perpetual Enmity
Bear: That to us has an Antipathy.
Think not that God in Wrath did us create,
Or that for damned Souls he made this state,
For to torment them in: He did not Will
That there a Hell should be: or any ill.
Thus then it came. God from Æternity
Did generate two Principles, which be
Contrary to each other. God alone
Cannot (but by these Principles) be known.
These generate he did Æternally,
Both in, and by himself, a mysterie
Not to be comprehended. Neither tho
Is God; yet he's the Root from whence they flow:
This Principle in which we make abode
Is call'd the first: An ang'ry, zealous God
And full of Wrath, Vengeance, and Ire, here
To mortal Men, and us he doth appear.
In th' other Principle of Love, and Light,
To men he doth appear quite opposite:
The nature of our Principle is this,
It full of raging, anxious prickling is,
An harsh, sowr, tart, fell, eager essence, and
Of bitternesse, and stinging full; we stand
In this. The other Principle is quite
An other nature, to this opposite,
We know no more of that: this I can tell
That accidentally is the cause of Hell.

109

Proceeding still they now were come upon
The entrance to Hel's inmost Region;
A vast huge Globe of sad dark glowing Fire
He saw, and in it thousand Devils, nigher
He fears to go: which seen thus said the Fiend,
What now? affraid? what is the matter Friend;
You do forget you have no body on
Your Spirit's here, and Spirits cannot burn.
With this you must be cloath'd; in this we dwell,
And so must you: This is the fire of Hell.
Which never can go out: don't you admire
What fuel 'tis maintains so great a fire?
Come, e'r we farther go I will explain
Its cause, and nature in a word, or twain.

This Principle of Wrath, of which I spake
Ev'n now, God ne'r intended to awake,
For it recluded was; he did not will
It should be open, nor that so much ill
Should happen. Now before your lower Sphear
Had birth, or being, we created were:
Our mighty Prince, King Lucifer was then
Created of such stuff, as Souls of Men
Created are, and we his servants true,
Cœlestial Forms, at that time did indue.
Our Prince more bright, than your light-giving Sun
In glorious Rayes of Heavn'ly Light out-shon
All other Angels, sat upon the Throne
Of God, and like a God himself did reign.
Out of both Principles compos'd we were,
As Man's Soul is; and other Angels are:
The first recluded was, and we were made
I'th second, there we should for aye have stay'd:
But our brave Prince (I must commend him for't)
Did bravely Lord it in a Kingly sort
Over the heart of God; that meeknesse scorn'd,
Did higher flye, and his high Spirit turn'd
Into the fiery property; that Rage
And fiery flash which Love could not asswage
He there begat. We as our Master did,
Raged as he; and so defiance bid

110

To Love, and Meeknesse, and those Angels that
With no aspiring Spirits kept their state.
Thus we deserted with our Prince that Throne
Of Light, and Love, and gain'd this fiery one,
Where we are potent, and with that strong might
'Gainst Michael our adversary fight.
Now those bright Rayes which our brave Prince had on
Before with courage high he left that Throne,
As scorning to adorn his Princely grace
With ought that did belong unto that place,
He left behind; with that fine form which he
There had: now in the fiery property
We other forms have got, which we can change
Into all sorts of shapes, and Figures strange.
In that great rage, and burning of the Wrath,
This Fire you see we live in then hurst forth,
Which from our selves proceeds, and which is made
By that strong enmity which doth invade
Us, 'gainst the adverse Orb of Light: and know
This Fire doth from bitter harshnesse grow;
As when you rub your flint upon a wheel
Which turneth round, and is compos'd of Steel,
You see from bitter grating Fires proceed,
So our harsh grating Spirits Fire breed,
Which is the same you see; This is the pain
That we, and all the damned in remain,
For all those torments that I shew'd you were
But Images, the better to declare
The nature of this one, and yet alass
This doth all them a thousand times surpasse.
Spirits alasse! though sensible, cann't feel
Material Fire, or jerkes from whips of Steel;
Nor water-torments; 'tis an aking smart,
Most cruel, sowr, eager, fierce, and tart,
Astringent, cold, attracting, harsh desire
Which breeds a piercing, prickling, stinging fire;
Which turns to rage, and enmity, and that
Stirs up the prickling, if it groweth flat,
So feeds with fuel: like a turning wheel
It still runs round: These are the pains we feel.

111

Suppose that one who has a strong desire,
Which burneth in him, and he's all on fire
For to ascend a Mountain made of Glasse,
The which he knows impossible: alasse!
He yet to do it strives; and yet despairs,
He has no hope, and yet desires, nor dares
To think he can; yet trys, he sees 'tis vain
Yet he desires, and yet he cann't refrain:
Again he tries, he cannot set his feet
But down he slides; this anguish doth beget,
That rage, and fury; then desire again
Renews the anguish, Anguish rage, that pain
Begets, and thus himself his torment breeds:
So here our torment from our selves proceeds,
The which Eternal is. The damned Crue
And we our torments daily thus renew,
A strong desire we do here retain
(The which is mix'd with Anguish, Grief, and pain)
After the Heart of God, not that we would
Possesse it, or dwell in it if we could,
We cann't have such a thought; for we no lesse
Than enmity eternally possesse
Against what we desire: we still despair,
We cannot hope, yet still desiring are,
And what doth breed in us the greater wo,
Is 'cause that to Æternity we know.
It so continue must: anguish, and smart,
A stinging, prickling, akeing, sowr, tart,
And horrid Grief torments us, then again
Desire breeds Anguish, Anguish breeds our pain;
And thus (though't cannot be exprest) we feel
Æternal Wrath, like to a turning Wheel
Which ever moves: And this to you I tell
The damned feel: These are the pains of Hell.

Our Prince, and we after the World was made,
Burn'd with a strong desire to invade
That new-made Orb; the which we could not do
Untill our Cunning Adam overthrew:
Then we our Forces sent. What myriads we
Have gain'd to us your eyes shall witnesse be,

112

For 'tis our nature to gain what we can,
We love the noble Company of Man,
If not, why should we labour so? we were
Created of the substance your souls are,
And you like us may if you will become,
Here's entertainment, and enough of room.
You see how well I love you, that I dare
Hel's pains and secrets, freely thus declare,
You may be sure that I would ne'r do thus,
Did I not you esteem as one of us.
And you'd confirmed be e'r you return;
When that yo'ar enter'd where that fire doth burne,
You'l understand what 'tis: you then in part
As we do, Wrath and enmity exert
Will 'gainst the Orb of Love. Nor what I tell
Think strange; would you of our own Principle
Have us be ignorant? or not to know
From whence we came? how enmity did grow
Betwix'd the second Principle, and us?
Forget our former seats? you'd make us thus
Like to you Mortals; who by sicknesse what
Before, or Age in Youth, they 'ave don forget.
We know more then you think we do, alltho
We it to Mortals very seldom show;
Come let us stay no longer, you shall see
Hel's pomp, and 's mighty Stygian Majesty.

This said, they both together go: No flame
Or lighter blaze, from that dark fire came,
But 'twas like a dark-glowing Coal, or like
A d'outed Candle, with a glowing week.
Here enter'd, now he feels an enmity
Against Love's Kingdom, and the Deity:
He sees the Devils, smells Sulphurian stinks,
Hears them blaspheme; himself a Devil thinks;
Does as they do. Thousands at first do meet
Him in most horrid shapes, with cloven feet,
With Dragons tailes, and looks: hard scaly hides
Long-tusked teeth, jawes gaping far, and wide,
These usher them along: He also saw
Millions of Souls, who in such shapes did draw

113

Hel's fœtid ayr (a blast whereof would choke
The earthly Globe) their mouths spat fire, and smoak,
Their faces black as ink, comuted some,
And very few retain'd an humane form;
And those that did were bunch-back'd, crooked, lam'd,
One ey'd, deformed, and more ugly seem'd
Than those with other shapes; but now he met
The greater Princes in their order set.

Who'd think that Hell should there retain the Form
Of every thing that doth this World adorn?
Why not? if Heav'n the purer forms of these
Things uncorrupted bear; the Species
Impure, and corrupted, may not Hell
With as much reason think you hold aswell?
Yea sure the Devils cloath themselves in all
Shapes may: excepting the Angelical;
As Angels cannot take a Devils hew,
So cannot Devils Angels shapes indue;
Both may an humane form; for sure he that
A soul can, may a body agitate.

Thus then in brief the shew of Hell was: when
With this fell rabble in that fiery den,
A while he marched had; A troop he met
Of many millions in their order set
Under their several Princes: on each side
Making a lane, they do themselves divide.
Some they were mounted upon Elephants,
Some upon Camels; and some vast Gyants
Stood on their feet, whose heads like waving Trees
To shrubs: did shadow those that to their Knees
Scarce reach'd. Some others in their Chariots were;
And prauncing steeds do other Captains bear.
Some upon Wolves, some upon Asses ride,
Some Lions, Tygers, Whales, and Bears bestride:
All sorts of Instruments, they bear. Some horn
Their shining fronts, like yellow brasse adorn,
Some heads like Dragons, some like Mastives bear:
With hispid mantles of dark pitchy hair.
Some hide their sooty hides; others are in
A Dragons scaly Coat: a Lions skin,

114

Others indue: some from their mouthes a stink
Of smoak, and brimstone send: some soot, and ink
Spew: some spit Toads, and Spiders, others flakes
Of fire; and some instead of Hair have Snakes
Dangling about their eares, and twisting round
Their necks, depend their tailes unto the ground.
Such kind of forms all bear. He still doth passe
Thorow this mighty Troop: conducted was
By all the chief, untill at last he came
Where seates a kind of Theatre did frame.

At th' upper end great Lucifer he saw,
(Whose frown keeps the Tartarean troops in awe)
Ston an Ebon Throne, more black than Jet,
And round about him Hel's great Princes set,
According to their ranks. Great Lucifer
A sable Crown upon his head did bear,
One hand a Scepter held, the other bore
A hissing Snake, upon his back he wore
Nothing but griesly hair, more black than Night,
Under his supercilious brow a Light
Like burning coals came from his saucer eyes:
His rugged cheeks like Rephean Rocks did rise,
With dented Vallies: every time he spoke
From's hellish mouth came clouds of pitchy smoak,
Which intermixed were with flakes of fire.
His breast beset with hair as stiffe as wire,
Bore two great duggs, from whence like spring-lets fell
Ereban Nectar, or the milk of Hell,
More black than pitch, and bitterer then soot
It was, from whence unto h's cloven foot
He was beset with hair, a shaggy Beast
Thus sat in state to entertain his guest.
Behind his Throne Hel's Armes were plac'd which were
A Dragon guils, with wings erect i'th' ayr,
A wreathed tail, his mouth flames proper yield,
Holding a Banner, in a sable Field.
Earth's solid Globe was on the other part
Pourtrai'd; where stood grim Griesly Death, his Dart
Piercing a tender Lamb, who yields his breath
And Life, unto the cruel stroke of Death,

115

His Banner broke in twain: hard by was seen
An humane Form: triumphing over him
With a great Mace, an horned Devil stood:
Upon the Earth a mighty Dragon trod,
Bearing a sable Flag, display'd on high,
In which was fairly written VICTORY
This was to shew his triumph over Man,
And Love's fair Orb, in this fame Stygian
Realm, and to shew them that here he reigns alone,
None but himself there sits upon the Throne.

On's right hand set, of that dark Region
The potent Princes, every one a Throne
Possess'd: Balzebub, Sathan, Asmodel,
Miriri, Mammon, Ast'roth, Belial,
With thousands more Commanding Dæmons, who
In strange, and various shapes appear'd in view.
On's left hand sat Prince Pride, in's face Disdain
Pourtrayed was; big were his looks, his Train
Hung lower than his Feet; a Peacocks plume
Shaded his hory Crest; with strong perfume
His 'brodered Gown did smell; pendants did deck
His flagging Eares, black Chaines præcing'd his neck:
Finer than all the rest he was, one hand
On's side was plac'd, a flaming hellish brand
The other held. Next him sat Envy, who
Did garments speck'd with swelling Toads indue:
A meagre Face he had, and hollow Eyes,
Lean jawes, thin neck, and spiney armes, and thighs:
His Head anguiferous, a poyson strong
Continually drop'd from his spungy Tongue,
At's feet Detraction sat his servitour,
With Enmity, who for his service bore
Two mighty Scorpions. Avarice was next
Who held his pawes continually convext,
With Clawes like iron teeth; a swinish Face
He had; no Ornaments but hair did grace
His hellish Corpse. Next furious fiery Wrath
Quick flames, and fiery darts sat belching forth,
His hands were arm'd with steel; a Dragon's hide
A crosse his shoulders with live Snakes was ty'd:

116

A Lions foce he had. Next goatish Lust
Sat in a Throne all over-spread with dust,
A stinking smell he had, the skins of Goats
Were ty'd about him in the stead of Coats:
The down of Sparrows want of hair supply'd
Upon his scalp; his eyes on every side
Still rowl'd about. Tun-belly'd Drunkennesse
Sat next; his ugly shape a Tongue expresse
Cannot: not's horrid brother Gluttony,
With thousands more, whom the man's Sp'rit descry
Did in their Pomp: Amaz'd almost to see
So many Princes, 'bout Hel's Majesty
He nearer drew; when the great Prince of Hell
Shaking his driety locks these words did yell
Forth from his pitchy mouth; black smoak, and flame
From's cursed throat with's words together came.

Welcom my Son unto these glowing parts,
I have considered thy great deserts,
For which I did permit that thou might'st see,
My Kingdom's Glory, and my Majesty.
Here is a Throne, and here a Crown lies by
For thee, when it shall be thy destiny
To leave the prison of thy Soul: I do
In the mean time my power confirm on you;
Thou shalt my great Magitian be, and show
Strange uncoth Wonders in the Orb below.
Hau—Let this blast imbue thy fetid Soul,
Accept my power, and let none controul
Thy might, and force. Go to the Tree of Death,
Eat of the fruit, and so confirm my Breath:
Chuse what thou pleasest, there is choice, nay all
If thou canst use them in the earthly Ball,
For our great Glory. Our great Mysteries
When thou hast eaten, thou wilt better prize:
VVhen thou shalt be confirm'd: Love then shall flye,
None in thy Heart shall ever reign but I.
This said, he nodded to the Prince that brought
Him thither, who conceiv'd his Princes thought:
Doing obeysance both withdrew: and strait
Towards the Tree of Death they ambulate.

117

A narrow Vale they enter, where, nor Tree
Nor spire of grasse, or any herb he see
Could: on each side huge cloudy Rocks mount up,
Which hanging over almost kisse a top.
A thick, dark shadow, on the ground they cast;
From hollow crannies comes a fœtid blast,
Which 'mongst the windings frames a murmuring voice,
And getting out an horrid hissing noyse
Doth make: Thorow the midst a pitchy stream
(The which from Styx and other Rivers came)
Runs; this they follow till they saw it shoot
Its sooty waters, at the very Root
Of the mortiferous Tree; in there it fell
Conveighing thither all the dregs of Hell.
By which that Tree is nourished: He now
Lifts up his eyes, and that strange Tree doth view.
The trunck more hard than solid steel, for mosse,
With filthy spawn of Toads inclosed was,
Poyson of Asps instead of shining gum,
Thorow the bark from every limb did come.
Thrice fifty Cubits scarce could close about
Its mighty bole: on every limb stretch'd out
Hung crawling Vipers, sucking with delight
The juyce of Henbanc, and of Aconite
From off the leaves, which gave a filthy stink,
And were more black than Pitch, or blackest ink.
An horrid blast arising from the ground
Concusse the leaves, which make a dryery sound
In their forc't Kissing: Bitterer then soot
Mixed with Gall, and Wormwood's juyce, the fruit
Was, which thick sparsed here, and there did grow,
In sundry colours on each sable bow.
A while he views this Tree: Hel's horrid Fiend
From's smoaky throat at last these words doth send.

Seest thou this stately Tree, those Fruits I wis
Are our Ambrosia; and our Nectar is
That humid juyce you see; no other food
But what grows here our Prince esteemeth good.

118

No Winter with its nipping frosts bereaves
This lurid Tree of there his sable leaves:
Nor leaves, nor blossoms adds the spring unto't:
Nor yellow Autumn robs it of its Fruit,
It thus continues as it is, and tho
We daily feed thereon it doth not grow
Barren of Fruit, for tho we cul apace
Others supply straitway their vacant place,
And should we off the Fruit we see now pull,
Next moment renders it again as full.
We need not fear but here is choyce enough,
For every Prince hath here his several bough.
Yon' fair-spread arm whose fruit so rarely dy'd,
Spec't like the Peacock's tail, yields food for Pride.
Yon Snake-betwisted bow, Toad-specled fruit
Doth best the slavering Chaps of Envy sute.
Yon' sire-coloured Pome loves mighty wrath:
Lust thinks that jetty Apple better worth.
Yon' mighty Limb which beareth Apples thrice
As big as all the rest, Loves Avarice;
Yon' juicy Fruit which liquor doth express
Thorow the skin loves beastly Drunkennesse.
And those two thick fruit-pressed limbs close by,
Belongs to wantonnesse, and gluttony.
On that feeds sloth, and that arm which you there
Behold doth serve the Table of despair.
Yon' strange-shap'd Fruit, which on that bow you see,
Is suck'd upon by foul-mouth'd Perjury:
It's endlesse to name all: Rare Fruit beside
All these, we have upon the other side.

Step hither, look! here's gallant Fruit indeed;
Here 'tis, and if you please, that you shall feed;
These are the Fruits will ope your dimmer eyes,
Will make you subtle, and exceeding wise.
These, these will shew the vertue of this Tree;
And I will tell you what those Apples be.
Seest that fair one with Crimson-circles deckt,
And here and therewith Characters bespec't?

119

Should'st thou eat that as good a linguist strait
Should be, as he that seven years had sat
Poring on books, enduring cold, and pain
A Language, or some Rhetorick to gain:
The juice of this fine fruit did Herod lick,
When he a God was styl'd for's Rhetorick.
And that round apple, which hangs dangling there,
Will make you be a cunning Sophister.
Yon apple which is so variegate,
Will make you cunning in mechanicks strait.
This Apple here which hangs so fair to view;
With Mathematick cunning will imbue;
See what Cylindres, and Rhomboides
What Quadrats, Diagramms, Isoce'les
With other lines, and figures printed in
Black, red, and yellow streakes upon the skin;
These shew its Nature. But yon with a Star
So fairly mark'd, makes an Astrologer:
Should'st thou eat this which hangeth over us
More cunning then was Æsculapius
Thou'ldst be; and skilfull too in Chiron's art
If that, which hangeth on that bow a th' wart.
But yon fair fruit which takes up so much room,
Will make you know before what is to come:
Of this did Baalam often feed, when he
Did by our divination Prophesie?
In former time this Apple was in use
Much, when Delphean Priests did suck the juice:
And on the next they fed, when they in verse
Their Oracles did usually reherse.

120

But yon five Apples which I shew you now,
And which do triumph on the upper bough,
Shall be thy food: See here I'le reach them down,
Make much of them, for now they are thine own,
Well may'st thou prize them, Heav'n nor Earth such fruit
Can give, which may so well thy nature suit.
These with thee take, and feed upon below:
But first to thee I will their vertues show.

This purple colour'd one more cold than Ice,
Or Riphæan snow, extinguish in a trice
Will that Scintilla Love hath plac'd in thee:
Then shalt thou wholly from his chaines be free.
Flouds of temptations, nor whole streams of sin,
Nor pleasures, which the World may draw you in,
Are strong enough to dout that little spark,
Which closely gloweth in thy hollow ark.
Well may they cloak it that it may not flame,
But 'tis this fruit that must put out the same.
This next although more black than pitch it be,
Will firmly glew together Hell, and thee:
A thousand chaines shall sooner break, than this
Resolve thee, of so strong a nature 'tis.
With all Hel's Peers, and our great Prince you wil
By it hold highest Correspondence still.
By this third, snaky-colour'd one, below
Thou shalt most strange-amazing Wonders do.
Th' Eternal flames which wend above the sky,
Unto the Earth thou may'st call by and by:
The Hyperborean sconce thou mayst command,
To œstuate the Sea to Mountains; and
Mayst at thy bidding Taurus rend in twain:
Or Atlas fling into the Western main.
This reddish one bespotted thus with jet,
The lock'd gates of thy sences ope will set;
Your quicker eyes although on Earth you stand
Shall pierce the Centre of our darker Land:
Then shall you see us when you please, and know
How that your Prince, and we your Brothers do:
Our shriller voyces shall assault your ear:
Your nose shall smell the sulphur of our Sphear:

121

And our hot breaths, feel blowing in your face;
Our Kingdom's dainties tast in every place,
Banquet and deeply drink with us: so you
May be on Earth, and in our Kingdom too.
By this last teter one, all evil Sprites
That b'longs to Hell, to please you with delights
You when you please may call, nay if you will
Ten thousand Legions shall attend you still.
All that belongs toth' Necromancy Art,
And Conjuration 'twill to you impart;
That at your beck from hence you may adjure,
The blackest Fiend to be your servitour.
Jannes and Jambres, Simon and Faustus eat
(Tho not to fill them) of this pretious meat.
See now what power thou'rt indued with,
By these rare fruits pluck'd from the Tree of Death:
The gold of In'd, nor Peru, not the Seas
Rich Treasure purchase may such Fruits as these,
The fabuliz'd Hesperian fruit of old,
Were durt to these, although they were of Gold.
Come now thou great Magitian thou shalt go
Unto the Body, which remains below;
Our Pomp, and Power, thou hast seen, and I
To you our Kingdom's nature did descry:
You need no conduct hither now, for when
You please, you my come visit us agen.
This said: he strait his body reassumes,
And thus Hel's great Magitian becomes.

My Muse returned from the darker Sphear,
Her garments rank of Sulphur smell I fear,
Which may offend: with those strange sights, which late
She saw affrighted, now shel'd titubate
Should she proceed: Like one which newly come
From long restraint in some dark Dungion
Cannot indure the splendid Light, nor dares
Sol's beams behold, so with my Muse it fares,
Who newly flown out of the house of Night
Dares not as yet describe the Orb of Light,

122

Till that in Jordan, she hath bath'd her eyes.
And Virgin Limbs, that she may brighter rise,
New modulizing of his Harp again,
To sing Heaven's Blisses in a higher strain.

The end of the first Part.

123

2. The second Part.

Long mayst thou Phœbus pull my tender ear,
E'r I will my exalted notes forbear:
My Muse belongs not to thy miter'd Hill,
Nor to thy teachings dos she owe her skill:
She from the double-top't Parnassus flies,
Unto the flow'r-spread Hills of Paradise,

124

And there inspired by the Angels notes,
Her self, and Musick to their King devotes,
Who with the verdant Wreath of Love, not Bayes,
Crowns the choice accents of her tender layes.
Great Prince of LOVE! dain but to touch my tongue
With some small coal from off thy Altar flung:
Inspire my Soul; ah let my words bespeak
Thy Glory! th'row them Hearts assunder break
Glaz'd o're with steel: Here highest Complement
'Tis to become thy happy instrument.
O so intrance me that in Raptures, I
May sing the glory of thy Majesty.

The misty horrors of Eternal Night
I'ave shewn; the far surpassing joyes of Light
Let's visit now; a sight of much more worth.
May then my teeming Muse with ease bring forth
An happy issue! May my Numbers show
The way to Heaven from this Earth below!
How deare's Man's Soul unto the Prince of Light!
Who all doth to his blessed Home invite,
Where all the pleasures, and blest joyes of Hea'vn,
To crowned Saints by his own hand are given.
Who would not Heav'n acquire, if't only were
T'avoid the terrors of the darker Sphear?
Where howling Devils spitting fire, and flame,
In Wrath, and fury 'gainst bright Heav'n blaspheme;
Where nought but Sulphur, Fire, and brimstone hurld
About, gives light unto that impious World:
Where pains Eternal in dark cares below,
With ugly Devils thou must undergo.
But what allurements hath blest Heav'n to give
To Souls that Chastly, and divinely Live!
What Joys! what pleasures! what true happinesse
Do those blest Souls in Paradise possesse!
One single grain whereof more value holds
Than all the pleasures that this World enfolds:
Ah! these are mix'd with sorrows, those have none,
Those are Æternal, these are quickly gon.

125

When that Earth's vainer Pleasures I behold,
To Heav'n's they seem like dung, to mounts of Gold:
Or like a pibble to rich Diadems
Beset with Diamonds, and more costly gemms.
Ah let me woo you from this Sphear to move
Unto that glorious Orb of Light, and Love:
What tho, the way be thither somewhat strait?
The end ten thousand times will Compensate
All Labour: 'Tis unwilling minds alone
Find so much trouble, others they find none.
Thine Eyes turn to the Hieroglyphic, see
On the right hand the Orb, of Majesty,
Of Light, of Love: this Paradise is call'd
Which is with flameing Sword's of Cherubs wall'd:
Which none can enter but those flames must passe,
Which cleanse the soul: This manifested was
Once in the Earth; and here another Day
Its Royal Beauties shall again display.
It has a being, and the Heav'nly wise
Vpon his Earth, yet fire in Paradise;
Where they like Angels (tho in flesh they move)
Enjoy the pleasures of Eternal Love.
Here is the second Principle; here is
The Orb of Light, of Love, of Heav'nly blisse:
Here is the Sun to New Jerusalem,
Which is the Light of it, the brighter gemm
Whereof it is compos'd; this is the Day
Which th'row the Eternal Mansions display
Doth its Cœlestial Light: Heav'n's King he is
As are the Saints, and Angels cloath'd with this:
Long'st thou to dwell in this Cœlestial place?
The way I'le shew (help'd by the Spirit of Grace)
Which if thou follow'st certainly arrive
Thou wilt, where Christ as King doth Reign, and Live.

That we may shew more plain unto your eyes
This milky way that leads to Paradise,
We will suppose (as in the darker Sphear
We did, so now we will exhibit here
One as) a Pattern, by whose foot-steps ye
May view the way unto Æternity.

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An Angel's task it is; an Angel shall
Conduct him therefore to the highest Ball.
And to that highest Pitch (tho reach'd by few)
That on this Earth may be attained to.

One then who doth in Truth desire to leave
This mortal World, and to th' immortal cleave,
Desireth Heav'n unfaignedly; but yet
Knows not which way his seeking face to set.
Like one who lost upon a wild Heath, sees
A hundred wayes, and yet among all these
He knows not which to chuse, nor whether they
May bring him home, or cause him farther stray.
Now this be treads, but by and by retreads
The same again, when that he sees it leads
Him false; now this he tries, now that, but when
He sees them false retreads them back agen,
Thus labours still in vain, but his desire
To home doth not, although his legs do tire:
Night now approaches, now no pathes he spies:
Quite lost he grieveth, sitteth down, and cries,
So't fares with him, he fain his Soul conveigh
Would unto Heav'n, but cannot find the way.
Benighted he's with sins, and errors too,
So that no way appeareth in his view
To lead him home: all Sects h'has tryd; his eye
More blinded is by their formality.
Thus lost he is; yet will not he give over
Seeking; desire doth it self discover:
His heart, and tongue still running parallel,
His mind to Heav'n he thus doth daily tell.

O glorious Prince of Light, in whom there is
Æternal Comfort, and Eternal Blisse!
By whom alone all World's consist; my cryes
Lord hear, accept my Heart's true Sacrifice.
Hast thou not promis'd? those that seek shall find?
I truly seek thee Lord, although I'm blind.
Out of the mid'st of horrid darknesse, I
To thee eternal Light it self do cry:
Lord I desire t'approach the Throne of Grace,
To view the brightnesse of thy glorious face.

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All wayes I try, but all wayes me deceive,
And short of what I do desire me leave:
Dark clouds surround me, mists seal up mine eyes,
Earth weighs me down, so that I cannot rise.
But in this black obscurity I grope,
Having still with me my Companion Hope.
Lord from thy splendor send one smaller Ray,
Which from this darknesse may explain the way
Unto the Orb of Light. My prayers hear?
Send one to guide me to this happy Sphear:
What ever thou requirest I'le obey:
I come, O Lord! did I but know the way.

A Heavenly Courtier strait comes rustling in,
Joy in his eyes, Love in his looks are seen:
His sudden coming startles him; his sight
Soon fear expels, and brings extreme delight.
About his Head a beaming Glory flyes,
Enough to dazzle more than mortal eyes.
His own fair Orbs like to two Phospers move
Under two fair Cœlestial Asks; where Love
Pierch'd doth in triumph sit; from whence he darts
A thousand arrows into mortal Hearts,
Which tip'd with sacred Fire, an holy heat
Of Love to Heav'n, and Hate to Earth beget.
His yellow locks like threads of shining Gold,
Upon his shoulders is meandres fould,
From whence each kisse the wind stole mov'd more sweets
Than all the Odor that Arabia greets.
Upon his lovely Front the Graces sat,
Who admiration in all eyes begat.
The new-fall'n Snow was not so soft, nor white
As his soft flesh; nor blushing Roses might
Compare with those which in his cheeks were plac'd:
His whiter Hand the Lillies quite disgrac'd:
Two downy Wings upon his shoulders grew
And which more colours than the Iris shew:
His Body was in sheets of snow bewrap'd,
Which as he went the dusty floor swept.
With hasty steps approaching near, he strait
The Ruby portals of a Pearly Gate

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Unlock'd; from whence these sweet words issued.

O man! Thy wing'd Embassadours have sped
Before the Throne of Grace: Heav'n's Majesty
Hath sent me to thee on his Embasie;
Heav'n's King hath made thee a free Denison
Of the Cœlestial Jerusalem,
Where all wear Crowns. Therefore prepare to go,
And I the way that thither leads will show.
Narrow, and strait at first appear it will,
And flesh will such asperities take ill,
It will both tedious, and unpleasing seem
To flesh, but yet a Will resolv'd will deem
It nothing; for the way to Heav'n is
After some time both full of Joy, and Blisse.
Such happinesse deserves some pains: yet set
Great price on what you do with danger yet.
This Earth alone doth make the way seem hard,
Therefore resolve this first to disregard,
If thou resolv'd art come; procrastinate
Not now thy Time, next day may be too late!
The then resolv'd cries out: I'le not defer
The Time I'm ready sacred Messenger!
Under the Covert of his downy Wing
He takes him up, and th'row the ayr doth fling,
Unto a Valley which high Rocks surround,
Here he discharges him upon the ground.
A pleasant Tempe did it seem to be;
Here grew the Olive, and the Cedar Tree,
The shady Beach, under whose Canopy
Banks cushen'd with the verdant grasse did lie,
Adorn'd with flowers, and sweeter herbs: he thought
The first flight him to Paradise had brought.
But thus the Angel cries: You now are in
The natural condition of sin:
This place the World doth represent, and these
Fine things you see its Fonder vanities.
From hence a way you must find out, which found,
Proceed be sure, and do not lose your ground.

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Nor make a stay: I at your greatest need
Unseen will help you; now I hence must speed.
This sai'd fanning the gentle ayr, his flight
He takes, and quickly passeth out of sight
The left alone, a while the place doth view,
But by and by upon a Bank he threw
Himself supinely; in the grasse doth creep,
And e'r he was aware falls fast asleep.
Whilst thus he sleeps a troop of Fairies come,
Which round him dance triumphingly, while some
Anoint his eyes with Poppy-juice? and other
With Soperiferous fumes his nosethrills smother,
And out of Bottles some pour down his throat
Somniferous liquor, from black Lethe brought.
Long mayst thou sleep! Long mayst thou sleep! they cry,
And never wake out of this Lethargy.
But now the Time is come that all these Charmes
Must be dissolv'd, rap'd out of Sathans armes
His Soul must be. A mighty clap of Thunder
As if the Heav'n's and Earth were rent assunder,
He hears, affrighted up he heaves his head,
And as if newly risen from the dead
He looks about, rubbing his scarce-op'd eyes,
When in a flash of light'ning from the skies
An Angel with an angry Countenance
Descends: his hasty steps he doth advance
Unto this supine Soul: one hand a goad
Held, in the other a sharp-scourging Rod.
With a loud voyce I CONSCIENCE am cries he
Who must awake thee from this Lethargy:
The pointed Goad into his flesh he flirks,
Whilst with the other hand he soundly jerks
His naked Breast. This sleepy Soul at first
Scarce feels the stripes: he then doth farther thrust
The pricking Acus of his tort'ring Goad,
And with his Scourge lays on a heavier load,
Till that the blood from's flesh begins to spin,
And still the Angel cries awake from sin.
Throughly awak'd he now begins to feel
The tort'ring anguish of the pricking Steel,

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He now cryes out; What shall I do? Oh! I
Cann't bear this pain! and up he starts to flye:
But round about a Mist as dark as Night
Fills all the place, only a little Light
About the Angel shines, by which he sees
His sad condition, and his miseries.
But up he starts and in the dark doth run
Here up and down, but yet he cannot shun
The Angels strokes, who where some e'r he goes
Renews his torments with reitterate blows.
And now all's former sins take shapes, and do
Where e'r he goes appear unto his view;
Against his face they flye: Tormented, he
Cryes: LORD from this sad HEL deliver me.
Whilst thus tormented up and down he flyes,
At length a little shining Light he spies
On his right hand; to that he runs, and there
He finds a passage from this Valley: where
When he had enter'd, by that Light he saw
His former sins ty'd on both sides the way
In black, and ugly shapes; he loathes them now,
And fain would shun their sight could he tell how.
Amaz'd he stands: What did by bosom dain
Cryes he; such ugly shapes to entertain!
Where were my eyes, that their deformity
And blacker shapes I could no sooner see!
O wretch that I did ever these commit!
Hel's sharpest torments I deserve for it.
O I am in the Wrath of God! my eyes
Pour forth your teares: How didst Apostatize
My Soul? In this deplorable estate
Expect no Mercy but Gods deepest Hate.
Oh with what anger the severer Judge
Beholds me now! I cannot go nor budge;
Where shall I flye? O! which way shall I run?
Or where can I God's sharper Justice shun?
I won't go back: Nor can I further go,
And in this place I am as loath to stay.
Drove to these straits what shall I do? too weak
Frail flesh, and blood, and frequent sins bespeak

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Me, to perform those things the Law requires.
O sad condition! O tormenting fires
Of Wrath! O which way? which way shall I turn?
Hel's scorching flames within my bosom burn!
He thus perplext a little farther goes,
When that a Silver torrent doth oppose
His hasty steps. No other way there was
If he'l proceed but th'row those streams to passe.
Must I no farther go! (cryes he) Constrain
Me not O Brook! for to return again,
No rather here I'le dye: (upon the brink
Thereof the lets his feeble body sink)
Here shall my brinish tears encrease your tide,
And shall as fast as your dull waters glide.
My eyes shall be your springs: you need not fear
A want of waters whilst that I am here.
If cold your streams with frosty fetters chain,
My warmer sighs them soon shall melt again.
Eyes ope your sluces! Cataracts of Tears
Fall down: preserv'd you have these many years
Your sullen waters, 'gainst this time of need
For to bewail my sad estate. O speed
Into this gentle River; furrows make
Upon my cheeks, where you your Currents take.
Ah! Sins 'tis ye that cause these Tears to flow,
Ye only are the cause of all my wo.
'Tis ye who brought me to this sad estate,
I now repent me, tho I fear too late.
My blubber'd eyes now turn from you, I will,
I hate you all, and flye you. Eyes your fill
Now take of Teares: encrease this River so
That's streams may bigger than his Channel grow.
Whilst he for's former sins a Ransom payes
In Pearly Tears, and's panting Heart doth raise
Within his Breast, a tempest with his sighs,
A Man he in the gliding River 'spies
When to the Wast the greedy waters had
Devour'd, his upper part was meanly clad
With a rough jacket made of Camels hair,
Which with a leathern Zone, upon his bare,

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And tender skin was girt: By this he knew
'Twas John the Baptist, the Brook Jordan too.
Whilst with his vest the sporting waters play'd,
Two Crimson leaves disclosing, thus he said.
Art thou a Pilgrim to the holy Land,
In which the New Jerusalem doth stand?
This then's the Way, no other way there is,
But th'row this River to Eternal Blisse:
Here in these waters must thou oftentimes
Thy Body lave from all thy former crimes:
Here wash thy Soul, from all the stains of sin,
If thou intendest Heav'n's high Race to win:
This Baptism by me thou first must prove
E'r thou attainest that of Fire, and Love;
This doth prepare thee for the other; this
Will cool that Fire which now raging is
Within thy Bosom, for thy former sin;
Here thou'lt find Peace, and Rest: Step quickly in.
His lips scarce clos'd were when the penitent
Leap'd in, and gladly to the Baptist went,
Who there immerg'd him in the Christal Tide
A many times, when on the other side
(Which melting Chrystal in round bulla's fall
From's hair, and garments) placing him, he all
Alone there leaves him: But within his mind
He far lesse trouble, and more ease doth find.
As if disloaded from a heavy weight
Of gives, and fetters which he bore of late
He feels himself; and like a Porter now
Discharg'd of what his back did underbow,
Himself doth stretch for ease. But by, and by
A winged Post down from the Skie doth flye,
In's Hand a sealed Parchment: this he doth
To him present; th' outside a while he view'th,
But opening it these words he written finds.
We whose right Hand at pleasure all things binds
And loses both in Heav'n, and Earth: Great King
Of all the Worlds; who unto Hell can fling
All Mortals, and thence raise again; We do

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For our Son's sake who supplicates for you,
Remit, and Pardon all those sins to thee,
Thou hast committed 'gainst our Majesty,
And our most dear Son: Granted from ABOVE,
Sent by Belief ; and sealed by gracious
LOVE.

Down on his knees he falls, his eyes directs
To Heav'n, and both his clasped Hands erects
On high: Dear Saviour! (cries he out) O how
My prostrate Soul doth to thy Mercy bow!
Lord! what am I that thou should'st supplicate
For me, poor worm? and from my sad estate
Into a Blisse not thought on ravish me?
O Jesu! Thy Love is immense I see.
O how I feel the blest Effects of thy
Blest Mediation! To thy wounds I flye;
Those sacred wounds, from which a Crimson tide
Of Sanctifying, healing Blood did glide,
By which thou hast appeas'd the Wrath of God,
From me averted his chastizing Rod;
And gain'd this Pardon for my sins. Oh! how
I o're my soul do feel it gliding now!
How sweet it is! my melting Soul now could
Dissolve; and Die a thousand Deaths it would
For thee my Saviour. That I ever sinn'd
It me repents, against so sure a Friend.
Oh now I see how I resisted have
Against those motions that desir'd to save
Me from my sins: how sensible I am
Of my defaults! and now how full of shame
Am I! but thou hast pardon'd all. On fire
My heart is now; to dye I long: Require
Now what thou wilt, I ready am, and will
What e'r it be, tho ne'r so hard fulfill.
Ah Monsters, sins, on you my eyes I wink:
Oh! how I loath you when I on you think;
I now abhor you, and as monsters do,
Lest ye devour my Soul, shun all of you.
But Christ has pardon'd what I did commit,
Now Eyes pour forth your Tears of Joy for it;

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Break up new springs, and from your watry Cel,
Rivers, and Seas of joyful tears expel.
These are not bitter like your other cryes,
If He priz'd them, he these will better prize.
Those flow'd from Grief, but these from Joy do flow,
By fresh returns of Love these greater grow.
These not from sin, but from blest Ioyes do spring,
Tho' signes of Grief, yet gales of Comfort bring.
When barren grow of lympid Tears my eyes,
Their want O breast supply with groans, and sighs,
Caus'd y the drawing in of what I long
For: Praises ever sit upon my tongue.
All my Soul's faculties to him still move,
Who so immensly hath, and doth thee Love.

Whilst thus he chaunts upon his bended knees
The song of Praise: he at a distance sees
Two striving with an equal pace to gain
The place where he was: Wings the one sustain,
With which she cuts the gentle ayr, her feet
Scarce touch'd the Earth: th' other with garments light
As ayr: painted with Anchors, was adorn'd
And 's swiftly ran, and both os if they scorn'd
To be out-vy'd by Eurus swimming came
Unto the place where he was; Crimson shame
Perch'd on his cheeks, when he perceiv'd they were
Two Heav'nly Nymphs, and that they both did share
Their free embraces 'bout his neck. The Dames,
Perceiving it, discovered their Names.
VVe are two Sisters FAITH, and HOPE they cry'd,
VVho from th' Imperial Towr's are sent to guide,
And to support thee in this way, should'st thou
Selfly adventure here without us two
Thou 't quickly languish: Hope will thy desire
Nurse up, and keep thee that thou maist not tires.
Faith will support thee, and by her thou tast
Shalt Heaven's Ioys, before thou them enjoyst.
Under both armes they take him up, and so
Fast link't together, in the way they go.
Swift Progne seems to loiter in the ayr,
A new-shot dart, nor swifter wind compare

135

May with their pace: He by those Nymphs so born
That scarce his feet upon the Earth doth spurn.
The ruder way they left behind, and now
Enter a kind of Paradise they do:
Continual verdure still adorns the place,
Which called was they told him GOD'S FREE GRACE.

The Sun a lively splendor there did show,
Warming with gentle heat: sweet flow'rs did grow
On both sides as they went; the grassy floor
With a Smaragdine Carpet covered o're
Did court their eyes, and in its lively green
The sparsed flowers like pretty starrs were seen.
All sorts o'th' best Autumnal Fruits did sue
With their o're-loaded-bending armes unto
His Hand to cull their profer'd store: delight
And plenty both unto the Feast invite.
Since here he enter'd a new vigor seas'd
Upon his Heart, he feels it strangely eas'd.
New streams of gentle oyl fall down upon
His Soul, he longs now after union
With Christ his Saviour; his still warbling tongue
Sings Praise; and Halelujah is his Song.

Now from those everlasting streams of Love
Which on his Soul do flow: he thus doth move
His lips, and tongve, creating in the ayr
Such vocal sounds as these. VVhat may compare
O God! with thy free Grace? The Sun the Light,
Nor springs their streames, nor the aerial bright
Aura's their cool refrigera's so free
Do give, as thou this liberal Grace to me.
Not my deserts, but thine own Love, doth cause
These streames of Comforts, and these gales of Joyes:
These beams of Grace, of Grace so freely given,
Purcha'st by LOVE, by Love sent down from Heav'n.
These may obedience to thy Laws require,
Obedient to be is my desire:
It is my meat, for 'tis Obedience can,
Conveigh the Nectar of the Gods to Man.
O how I'm rapt, my eyes perstring'd before
Did thee beyond the fleeting Clouds adore!

136

At what a distance did I comprehend
Thee sitting at thy Father's dexter-Hand,
But now I see (those eyes too thou hast given)
That thou hast dained from the highest Heaven
For to descend, and my poor worthlesse heart
Into thy Glorious Temple to Convert.
Now need I not to dart my weaker eyes
Against the hollow of the vaster Skies:
Now need I not seek to the deeps below,
Now need I not beyond the Mountains go
To find thee out; it is enough if I
Thee in my inward Temple seated 'spy.
Ah there thou art; Thy Beams of Light, and Love.
Thy streams of Glory do thy presence prove:
Thy gales of Comfort, Peace, and Joy, shew clear,
That it is Thee, and I hee alone dwells there.

A Malefactor when condemn'd to dye
Having no other Hopes, immediatly
Before his execution a Reprieve
Comes from the Judge: How joyfully receive
The welcome news he doth; when he doth know
His Life he to the Iudge his Son doth owe:
Who not his pardon only gains, but feasts
Him at a Banquet with his noble guests.
How hearty then are his acknowledgements!
How strongly to his Service his intents
Are fixt: how he to every one doth praise
His Mercy, and his Bounty; and alwayes
Obedient, and officious is glad
If he occasions has to serve him, sad
If he has none: but by degrees (these heats
By Time, and Pleasures vanquish'd) he forgets
The dangers past, and what he ows to him
That sav'd his life; at least the sence of them
Is not so fresh, nor his desire as
Strong for to serve him as at first it was.
So our Cœlestial Pilgrim for a while
With th' apprehension of his Saviour's smile
Ravish'd, chaunts forth his praises, and with Joy
Poures forth his Soul, which feeleth no annoy:

137

And whilst that lively apprehension lasts
How over-sweet his freer Bounty tasts!
In this delightfull way our Pilgrim now
On each side held by Faith, and Hope, doth go:
With so much ease, and pleasure moves he, that
He thinks that he to Paradise is got
Already; little dreams the Rocks that he
Must passe before he there instated be.
All things for to enjoy he seems, and saith
He union has with Christ; and that by Faith
He Heav'n possesses, that the work is done;
Before that it in Truth is scarce begun.
His present Joys, and sweeter frame of spirit,
Makes him suppose he doth all things inherit,
Thinks himself safe; and carried thus at ease
Betwixt two Nymphs, the way doth greatly please,
So that by little, and by little, he
About his heart feels a stupidity,
His eyes are heavy, and his sences dul'd
With ease, e'r he's aware to sleep he's lull'd.
And whilst he sleeps he dreams he travels on,
With that swift pace with which he first begun.
This drowsie nap not lasting long he 'wakes,
Rubbing his eyes, his lither limbs he shakes,
And looks about, he sees himself alone,
And those two Nymphs which him supported gone:
The place of pleasure's vanish'd too; and now
Dark clouds, and sadnesse hang on every bough.
New troubles now arise, a deadnesse he
Sees all about, more in his Soul doth see.
But not unmindfull of his journey, still
He would proceed; but when he forward will,
Instead thereof he backward steps, or else
Upon one side: he knows not what he ailes,
Nor how to help himself.

Anon he 'spies
A Troop of fluttering Imps, into his eyes
Some flye, and others perch upon his tongue,
Some pierce into his braines, while others clung

138

Unto his Fingers end. This Troop they call
The Troop of shadows meerly notional.
His eyes more dark with Notions see the Hull
And nothing else: His busie brains now full
Of these pert impes, do set his tongue on wheels,
Which tyring, straight his fingers itch he feels
For to be venting of these Notions, that
His over-busie working brains begat.
And now he talks of Christ; his blood, his death
His Life, and his Ascention, and doth
VVander into the heights, mysterious
He others, and himself beguileth thus.

Our Pilgrim having slipt into this path,
And having lost the Sisters Hope, and Faith.
Begins to wander, and to rome about,
When on a sudden from a Bowre slipt out
A comely Dame, who thus bespeaks him, Know
My name's Misapprehension. Sir you go
Along with me, and I'le bring you where
A many of your fellow Pilgrims are.
He taken with Her beauty, and her speech,
Without delay his Hand to her doth reach,
Strait they pass'd th'row the Bowre of Deceit,
Into a place where many sat, their feet
By the World's Sp'rit chain'd to their chaires, which she
Told him were call'd Seats of Security.
Before his eyes each had a picture plac't,
That represented all their Voyage past,
By whom stood False-Persuasion wite his cheat,
That their Regeneration was compleat,
And that if they ne'r stirred from that place
They'd done enough: They could not fall from Grace.

Charm'd by Persuation be's about to seat
Himself in those bird-limed Chaires; his feet
They are about to shackle, when his faire
Tutelar Angel beat the gentle ayr
With his displayed Wings, his radient brows
His glorious presence to our Pilgrim shows.
Betwixt a frown, and smile, his Wings he shook
About his eyes, and thence all Notions strook:

139

The Scene straight vanish'd, and the comely Dame
Misapprehension, slunk away for shame.
What Pageant's this? (cry'd he) how cam'st to stray
Into this False, from Heav'n's director VVay?
Wouldst thou have been insnared thus? Is this
The New Jerusalem? or Paradise?
Didst thou not tast Heav'n's sweet Ambrosia,
Whilst thou continuedst in its righter Way?
How cam'st tho I thence? how didst thou lose that Path?
VVhere are thy Virgin-guides true Hope, and Faith?
Dost thou not see the cheat thou wert about
To enter? art thou willing to go out
From this deadnesse of Spirit? and proceed
In that true Path where thou must die indeed?

His Knees strait kist the Earth; his words with sighs
Were intermix'd, his tears ran from his eyes:
I'ave err'd indeed I must confesse: but how
I hither came I do not rightly know.
I thought I had to Paradise attain'd;
So great the pleasure was, the which I gain'd
Whilst in that Path I did my voyage make,
That 't lull'd to steep; and whilst I slept, forsake
Me Hope, and Faith both did; sure whilst I slepe
Out of that Path, into this way I crept.
How willing am I to retrive the way
I trod before, would Heav'n its Light display
To help me hence: To beg can I begin
Who was so lately pardon'd for my sin?
O Heav'n I beg would if I dare to do't,
My crime, and my unworthinesse strikes mute
My Fault'ring Tongue; yet if it be thy Will
O Lord! from begging, shame my lips sha'n't still:
Shew me the way, and with thy Light direct
My steps, and though a thousand Mounts obstruct
My progresse, I (if strengthned by thy Grace)
Th'row all will presse unto thy holy place.
Though I am weak, yet I am willing, Lord!
Thou can'st, and if thou pleasest help afford.

Prostrate upon the ground he falls, his cryes
With true contrition winged, mount the skies;

140

Hea'vn hears, and pity takes: Immediatly
From thence descending he doth GRACE espy;
With her a troop of heav'nly Nymphs, whose Rayes
With their bright lustre his weak eyes amaze:
Sol shews lesse glory, when he heaves his head
Dressed with Roses from his Eastern bed,
Than this great Queen; her eyes more beamings than
He, when he mounteth the Meridian,
In's chiefest splendor gives; than Cynthia
When at the full she makes a second Day
More fair she is: And she that troop of hers
Surpass'd as Cynthia all the lesser starres.
Her garments far more white than Riphæan snow
Hid a more candid skin, her lips did show
Nothing but sweetnesse, and when e'r she spake
Ten thousand chaines fell from her tongue, which take
All Souls that hear her captive; never yet
Our Pilgrim's eyes so sweet a sight had met.
Those glorious beams which shon about her Face
Perstring'd his weaker eyes, and made him place
Them at her feet; which she perceiving drew
Over those dazling beams a Vail, that view
Her he the better might: Two Rosie leaves
Expanding (by the which her breath receives
More than a Roseal sweet perfume, as it
Passes those Portals) she these words did fit
Unto's attentive eares. No sooner move
Can Man, Petitions to the Prince of Love,
But they are granted; and sometimes are seal'd
Before his tardy tongue has them reveal'd.
Nothing but Love, mercy, and pity he
Is unto all, and can no other be.
Part of himself I am, and ever stand
Prest for these Embassies at his right hand;
To none will he at any time deny
(If they sincerely ask) my Company:
I Queen am of that place of such delight,
Whose heav'nly Beauty recreates the sight
Of all that enter there, and now I come
To let you see unto Jerusalem

141

The heav'nly, the true Way: such guides I'le leave
That if you'l follow none can you deceive
With false illusions, nor draw aside,
But be you sure to follow still your Guide.
Although you able are to comprehend
The whole World in a thought; yet if you bend
Your whole Imagination to conceive
The Glory of Jerusalem; bereave
The Earth, the Seas, the Skies of all, what e're
May glorious, or beautifull appear,
And with them frame a glory, all shall seem
Unto the glory of Jerusalem
But as a grain of dust, to mighty Gemms,
Or as a Candle to the Sun's bright beams.
That I may give thee some small glimpse of that
Most glorious House, I have a Picture brought
With me of it; and that I may invite
Thee with its beauty to attain't, a sight
Thou shalt have of't.

APOCALYPSIS then
She call'd, a Nymph that's much desir'd of Men.
Her tresses hung like waves of gold upon
Her shoulders; her transparent garments shon
With far more lustrous beauty than a gemm
Diaphanous; Earth's Beauties were in them
With Heav'n's intermixt: a curious Hand
Had here the Sea, and there the stable Land,
With Groves, and Rivers, Gardens, Founts, and Springs
With all Earth's pleasures, and all living things
Express'd: The Sun, the Moon, and Stars he might
With all the Beauty of the Heav'n's delight,
Fully behold, wrought with Stones highly priz'd:
The Heavens, and Earth were there Epitomiz'd.
So that she shon like the bright Evening Star,
Or Phœbus mounted in his high-noon Carr.
A Chrystal Key with which the inward sight
She did unlock, her left hand held; her right
A scroul of Paper: This GRACE did unfold,
That he might there Jerusalem behold.

142

His greedy eyes fix'd on the Scroul did wait
VVhen her blest hands would ope the picture; straight-
VVayes the unfolding it, more dazling beams
Than could proceed out of a masse of gemms
Flew thence, and like the agill Lightning strook
His eyes, perstring'd them, and his Body shook.
Prostrate he fell not being able to
Bear all those Beauties which together Flew
From thence. This splendor is too great, he cries
For to be look'd upon by mortal eyes:
Heav'n's Eaglets only can behold this Sun
And without striking blind their eyes, upon
It gaze; How wil't perform thy word to me?
Unlesse thou giv'st new eyes I cannot see.

If that a shadow of its glory does
Perstring thine eyes (says Grace) and 'maze thee thus,
VVhat will the full fruition of it do,
VVhen in its highest lustre it by you
Shall be beheld? An Alabaster box
Her snowy Hands with a cold Key unlocks,
From whence she drew a Sov'raign eye-salve, made
Of Purity; upon his eyes she lai'd
The same, and bid him boldly view the Light,
For that pure Salve from hurt would guard his sight.

At her Command his baulmed eyes he now
Erec'ts, and doth that glorious splendor view,
VVhich doth proceed from the bright radiant gemm
Of which is made the new Jerusalem.
A glorious City there he saw: the Pen
Nor Heav'nly Tongues of Angels, nor of Men
Can it expresse; or half its Glory tell;
Its beauties, other beauties all excell,
More than the brightest gemm, dark glasse, or far
More than Gold durt; or Sol the meanest star.
Rap't in a kind of extasie he moves
In that bright splendor, round the City roves
He with his eyes, taken with so much blisse
His Soul out of his body wrapped is.
Himself among the Thornes he sees, and there
Views, what his tongue to utter doth not dare.

143

O glorious Beauty! (cries he out) one grain
Of thee will more than recompence all pain,
And trouble that we on the Eard endure,
For to possesse thee. O bless't Light immure
My Soul for ever here, where reigns true Blisse,
Where is true Joy, and where true pleasure is.
Adiew vain Earth, and all thy foolish pleasure,
Worser than Dung compared to this Treasure,
And Joys I find. Ah what are Crowns to thee
Least particle of true Felicity!
Lighter than chaff, of lesse esteem they are
Than dung, if they with heav'n's bright Crowns compare.
O how I'm rapt! O how I now esteem
The glorious Vision of Jerusalem!

Grace smiling at his Rapture, warbled forth
These words. This sight of such esteem, and worth
Is, that to very few it granted is
The favour to behold this sight of Blisse.
Amongst those very few thou seest thou art,
For ever then record it on thine heart,
And let this Beauteous sight attract thee so
That thou astray mayst not hereafter go.
Nor think that thou already art in Blisse,
This but a sight (and at a distance is)
Of future happinesse; which gain you may
If you persever in the stricter way.
But if backslide, and in your sins remain,
This Heav'nly City you shall ne'r attain.
How vain the choysest of Earth's pleasures are,
If with the least of these, you them compare!
Let this consideration beget
A fire of constant sacred Love to it,
So that thou mayst with greater ease presse on,
Till thou the harder way hast overcome:
For if thou dost heav'n's Beauties contemplate,
Earth's, in comparison to them thou'lt hate.
Whilst to this sight thine Eyes are married,
The way thou se'st not that doth thither lead,
Its glorious Beams o're-shadow it, but I
By vailing them exhibit to thine eye

144

The way that leads unto this City will
A thick mist strait doth her command fulfill,
Which like a Vail hid those illustrous Beams,
And now the way pourtray'd he sees: it seems
To lye here over Rocks, th'row Vallies there:
Here dark black Caves, there Seas of Blood appear;
Here precipices thick, here thornes, here steep
And stony places, there strong Watchmen keep
The passages: a thousand dangers show
Themselves along the way that he must go,
If he to Salem will attain: His eye
About he cast, no other way espy
He could, so that necessity compells
He that wayes must, when there is no way else.
Nor Rocks, nor precipices, nor (cries he)
Sanguineous Seas, now shall discourage me,
Since I have seen those Beauties, which do Court
My Soul; for which all dangers seem a sport
Will: for 'tis fitting that Æternitie
With fleshe's hazzard should attained be.
Come I'm resolv'd, and ready am to tread
This narrow Path which doth to Sion lead:
I'le leave this World, and for my future good
Fly over Rocks, swim thorow Seas of blood.

This said, APOCALYPSIS then withdrew,
And GRACE her hand did to the Pilgrim shew,
A hearty Kisse on which he straight inferr'd:
Unto the path from which he lately err'd
She him conducted, where stood HOPE, and FAITH,
Who ran to him assoon as in the Path
He came: To whom themselves the' excused thus;
For your deviating pray blame not us:
'Twas your own fault; for whilst we with you kept
We know not how into a sleep you slipt;
So heavy then you were we thought you dead,
And hating dead mens company, we fled:
For alwayes we do use to be so bold,
To flye from Pilgrims if they lose their hold.
Our tender wing cannot bear from Earth, Men that
Fall fast asleep, or are inanimate.

145

GRACE from her Chore a trine of Virgins chose,
Whom duty on their knees before her throws
And fixing their bright eyes upon her face,
The' expect with Joy the Precepts of her Grace.
Strait wayes she with a beck commandeth them,
To guide the Pilgrim to JERUSALEM:
And constantly to 'bide with him, untill
He had attained sacred Sion's Hill:
Her feet, and th' Earth thrice kiss'd they bow, and rise,
Themselves presenting 'fore the Pilgrim's eyes:
The first was Alethia, whose fair face,
And all her body, shon like Chrystal Glasse:
Diaphanous her garments were, upon
Her shoulders hung a mantle like the Sun,
Fringed with Gold, before with Azure ty'd,
And two great Saphirs upon either side;
Which by reflection darted all about
Such Beams that almost had the Sun put out.
The next was trusty Vigilantia
In whose bright Orbs was seen a constant Day:
Sprightly she was: her watchfull eyes she cast
About, lest danger might unseen be plac'd
In any corner. In a vestment clad
She was, in which more eyes than Argos had
Were wrought: here white, black, gray, green, purple, sky-
Colour'd Siric compos'd a lively eye:
Carnation, white, and yellow here, and there
With artificial turnings fram'd an ear.
A Pearly Coicha in her hand she held,
Whose blast soft slumbers from her eyes expel'd,
Humility came last; where in the books
Of her dejected, yet well-pleased looks,
In blushing Characters might modesty
Be plainly read: Wooll cloath'd Humility:
A stoll of Frize she had, under her Paps
A Leathern girdle did her garments elapse.
A sacred Crosse with both her hands she held,
Fast to her breast; on which her lips still dwel'd:
And though her face with lowlinesse was dress'd,
Her eyes an humble lovelinesse express'd:

146

No shining Rayes indeed adorn'd her head,
But her bright eyes as great a lustre spread.
After our Pilgrim had all three embrac'd,
GRACE them about him, in this order plac'd.
Before went Alethia, whose bright Ray
Exhibited unto his eyes the Way.
To his right hand Humility combin'd
Was: Vigilantia to his left: behind
Went Faith, and Hope, who alwayes ready were
At need on both sides, or afore t'appear,
Proceed (said GRACE) in greatest dangers still,
And when you need have, I assist you will.

Our Pilgrim thus accompan'ed, with Joy
Enters a narrow, and obstructive Way,
At every step some rugged stone doth greet
With harsh Salutes, his bare and tender feet:
The more he hasts the more he titubates,
The farther he proceeds the greater straits.
But generous Humility befriends
Him, with a Staff, to him her Crosse she lends:
On this he leans; goes now with more delight,
For when he stumbles, it keeps him upright.
Without the Crosse it folly is to tread,
The path which to immortal Crowns doth lead,
Great opposition all the way he goes
Both from his outward, and his inward foes
He finds: but doth maugre their forces come
Unto the Gate of Circumcision.
A narrow Gate it was, on both sides were
Hooks, Sickles, Sythes, and Lances that would tear
The fleshly hide of all that enter'd by't:
Over the portal this appear'd in sight.
O SOUL LET NOT THESE WEAPONS THEE AFRIGHT,
FLESH ONLY SUFFER MUST WHICH THEE RESTRAINES.
THESE WIL BUT BREAK THY PRISON, GIVE THEE LIGHT,
AND CUT IN TWO THY ADAMANTINE CHAINES:
NO OTHER WAY THERE IS BUT THIS, AND THOU
OR NOT AT ALL, OR NAKED MUST GO TH'ROUGH.

147

What won't a desperate Rabble do, when they
See Death its Banners 'fore their eyes display?
Extremity will make the Cowards fight,
And oft surpasse the force of greater might.
So now the Flesh, the World and Devil view
Their utter ruine if he enters th'row.
This Circumcising Gate. Nile's Catatracts
Ne'r from the Mountains fell with greater cracks,
And violence, than they upon him rush,
Whose strong encounter did him almost brush
Unto the Earth: But holding fast the Crosse,
He got upright, and had but little losse.
They altogether him assault again,
Over, and over: But (as in the main
A sturdy Rock beats back the billows, and
Immovable spite of their rage doth stand)
Undauntedly our Pilgrim holding fast
Unto the Crosse: Them to the Earth doth cast.
But subtle Satan skill'd in Wars, well knew
That stratagems more than plain force could do:
He saw it was a Folly to assault
Resolved Man, unlesse his will revolt.
Therefore to bribe her Earth her Riches brought,
And sent them to her by disguised Thought.
A pack of Pleasures at her feet she flung,
Another full of Honours: and a long
Sack full of Riches: gallant Ornaments,
Buts full of wine, and choysest meats, presents
More costly promis'd to the Sences, and
The Passions would they deal but underhand
To stop the Pilgrims voyage: If he do
Passe th'row that Gate, ye all shall perish too
She cry'd. At last she doth perswade the Will,
The Sences, and the Passions to rebel.
Intestine foes are far more dangerous,
Though but a few: than far more numerous
Who openly their Banners do display:
For th' others e'r we are aware betray
Us to our Deaths. False will perswades him now
For to consult before he passes th'row

148

The Gate in sight: And as a Friend doth call
Thought to the Councel, who straight rips up all
The fanci'd dangers he must passe, if he
Passe th'row that Gate where was Austerity;
And where he must Earth's Pleasures quite forsake,
And over Rocks, and Seas a voyage take,
Which few besides himself went in; when that
At's Body's dissolution a Cut
Far shorter he might make: The Sences then
To ruffle in their discontent began,
Accusing him that they who were his Friends
He did intend to bring to cruel ends.
The Passions then flew high, and Anger straight
Told him he did intend to innovate
Strange Lawes amongst them; and their Liberty
Should utterly be lost, and if that he
Proceeded in that Way: and Flesh who was
Their Friend was threatned most if he did passe.
The Pilgrim thus befet, pale Fear, and Doubt
With open wings came fluttering about
His Eares: and now he staggers: TRUTH he sees
Waits for him at the Gate. Down on his knees
He falls, and cries for help: These chaines Lord break
The Spirit's willing though the Flesh be weak.

A tender Infant's Cry ne'r Mother call'd
With more maternal speed (that what it ail'd
She might know; doubting each Stone in the Way
It's tender legs might to a fall betray)
Then GRACE new summon'd by the Pilgrims Cry,
Hasted down from her Throne of Majesty.
Her Beauty made his adversaries start,
The Will shrunk back and shew'd a fainter heart.
GRACE though she could have with one single dart
The stubborn Will pierc'd th'row her Steely heart.
Laid by her threatning Weapons, and did shew
The suavity she ever us'd to do:
And smiling, thus unto the Will she spake,
What is the reason that you would forsake
The Pilgrim to his Blisse? Shall pleasures? sence?
And Passions strong conspiracy from thence

149

Detain you? 'tis the World and Sathan that
Hath circumvented you into this Plot.
All what they promise are meer shaddows, know
That all things be so that are here below.
Why fear this Gate? This will indeed conduct
You to a higher Sphear; your Way obstruct
Back to the Dunghill Earth: what then? if here
You pleasures find, much more in that bright Sphear
You shall unto Eternity enjoy;
And there where is an everlasting Day
You shall reside, inthron'd in Blisse shall be
One with that Will which first created thee.
Shall Earth to Heav'n be prefer'd? below
How full of uglinesse do all things show
To eyes which heav'n's Beauties see; dung ne're
Did unto Jewels half so vile appear.
Wilt thou not then forsake this world, and passe
Thorow this Gate unto this blessed place?
Let my entreats of Love prevail so far,
When for your happinesse they spoken are:
Be not a Captive to the world, but be
One unto Heav'n, and that is to be free.

A thousand Rayes fled from her eyes, as fast
As from her mouth flew Word, with which they past
Into her Heart, wherewith such melting Love
Like soft oyl mixt with Wine about they move:
Down falls the will, and by her looks doth show
That now she's willing th'row the Gate to go.
The Will thus gain'd the Pilgrim values not
The Sences, nor the Passions, weaker plot:
By her he'd tame them whensoever they
Shall dare t'appear for to obstruct his Way.
Now Faith, and Hope anew their plumes do rear,
And from him with their Wings brush Doubt and Fear.
No longer now the World, nor Sathan can
With-hold him: their intreats, and Threats in vain
Are? now he is resolv'd, and though they fling
Themselves upon his neck, and 'bout him cling,
He passes on, and th'row the Gate doth presse.
Those Hooks, and Sythes his heavy load redresse:

150

One pulls off Sathan by the heels: The Sp'rite
Of the Great World another hook doth light.
All grosser sinnes, and vainer pleasures, by
A Sythe cut off, jumbled together lye
Upon the ground: a Lance the flesh rips up:
And noughty thoughts cut from the head do drop
Unto the Earth: Flesh feels the worser smart
Which pierced is unto the very Heart.

Past through he views himself, extuberancies
Which obvious were are all cut off he sees,
But smaller wenns stack closer to his skin,
And other hidden Griefs lay close within,
Which hooks, nor Sythes had yet cut off, but these,
A harder task, par'd must be by degrees.
For now he knows Mortality he must
Loose ere he sees Jerusalem the blest.
No sooner past this narrow Gate, but they
Enter an asper, and a narrow Way;
At first nor Trees, nor grasse he found, nor did
See any place for to repose his Head;
Both sides with Rocks were wall'd, Asperity
The one side pav'd, the other Poverty
The way of SELF-DENIAL this they call'd,
The VValk of Trial, where Obedience dwell'd.

The Stygian Proteus, varies shapes, more than
The cloudy Pictures in the Sky; a Man
There you may see, and by and by the same
A Lion, Horse, and then a Bear become.
So he who at the Circumcising Gate
In shape of Grosser sinns pull'd off of late,
More Spiritualiz'd becomes, like Anteus grows
More strong by's falls; whilst to the Earth one throws
Him in one shape, he rises up anon
Cloath'd in another and as strong agen.
Like Plius therefore with him we must Cope,
With chaines of Perseverance bind him up.
Or else like Hercules this Anteus Croud
To Death, betwixt the Armes of Fortitude.
We must not think but he will tempt us still,
Untill we come unto that sacred Hill

151

Where we may say: Sathan avoid, and know
A Deity commandeth thee to bow.
Then otherwise he shall not dare to do,
Us then shall Angels minister unto.

Long in this path our Pilgrim had not gon,
But on a sudden he is set upon
By a great Satyr; on his back he wore
The bristly Jacket of a new-slain Bore.
His sleeves were hispid Goat-skins; and upon
His Crest a great bunch of Satyrion,
Orchis, and Southernwood instead of plumes
Wav'd: All his garments stunk of strong perfumes:
The juyce of Ash his Face besmear'd, his hair
With Nutmegs powder'd was: his right hand bare
A Shield in which was pourtrai'd Pasipha,
Faustina, Messalina, Hellena.
I who have made the mightiest Monarchs bow,
Must I fight with so small a Pigmy now?
I'le stop thy farther passage: cries he out:
The first blow of this fair-fac'd Sword shall do't.
Straight this fallacious Monster from his side
A Weapon drew, whose strength he oft had tri'd.
At him he ran with it: But from the Sword
His head the Pilgrim with the Crosse to guard
Did think, when straight the Sword converted to
A naked Nymph, who in that shamelesse hew
Yet full of a fictitious Beauty, flung
Her Ivory armes about his Neck, and clung
Close to his Body, wrestling all the while
To trip him up, yet in his face did smile.
In the mean time the Satyr with his clawes,
Endeavoured to ope his closed jawes,
Having a poys'nous Filtre in his hand
The which he meant to make him swallow, and
Fescinan Songs singing with Goatish breath
The Pilgrim h'almost stifled had to Death.

Great danger was he in both Faith and Hope
Strove till they weary were: The Will did Cope
Be'ng now resolv'd most strenuously, and now
Her armed courage did to purpose shew.

152

But in his greatest danger, almost spent
With this certation GRACE assistance sent.
A Nymph doth (one of her bright Train) appear
Whom purple Wings of chasest Turtles bear
From the polluting Earth. More white than snows
Her garments were, a Lillied Crown her brows
Precing'd; her neck a chain of Saphirs, and
No spots had ever her pure garments stain'd.
In her sweet eyes Rare Modesty kept Court,
Alternate blushes on her Cheeks did sport,
Silence sat on her Tongue, and Beauty spread
A lovely splendor, all about her Head.
Of all the Nymphs the Pilgrim yet had seen,
This in his eyes for Beauty seem'd the Queen.
Hearts could not chuse but do her homage, nor
If Heav'n Love, refrain from loving her?
Day ne'r came forth out of the Eastern Gate
With so bright face, or so immaculate.
A Shield one hand did bear, where you might see
Joseph, Diana, and Penelope,
Susanna, and the Apostles Maid, who bare
The World's Redeemer, and Him pourtrai'd there.
Green Lettice sugared with Continence
Upon a snow-white plate of Abstinence,
Sharpned with Labour; in her other hand
She brought, and did close by the Pilgrim stand.
As fair Aurora with the brush of Light
Strikes down the Cobwebs of the sordid Night
From off the face of Heaven every morn,
The Light which did this Nymphs bright face adorn,
Strook from the Pilgrim those black clouds of Lust,
And to the Earth both Nymph, and Satyr thrust,
Who getting up together slunk away
From her, as Night steals from th' approaching Day.
Then of the Salad to the Pilgrim she
Gave, who inamour'd was immediatly
Of her rare Beauty: straight his armes he throws
About her neck, and till she had his brows
Impal'd, with her white Crown of Lilies, kept
Her pris'ner; which b'ing done the ayr she swept

153

With Wings, that did a purity bestow
Upon the ambient ayr where she did go.

Scarce had he finished an hymn of praise
Unto that potent King of Victories:
But that an other opposite he saw
Whose face seem'd both the Heav'n, and Earth to awe.
Upon a Steed he mounted was, whose hoofs
Disdain the Earth, the ayr he proudly snuffs;
And being rained in, from's champing chaps
Of milky suds a frothy River drops.
The Rider far more proud, had on his head
The Helm of Insolence, which was bespread
With the fine train of the Junonian Bird?
The Belt of Arrogance his sides did gird,
At which Ambition hung, the weapon that
Had oft laid many mighty Princes flat.
His looks spake full disdain, scorn cloath'd his brows,
And haughtinesse his high-rear'd forehead shews.
Big language dwelt upon his tongue, the Lance
Of Pow'r he in his right hand did advance.
A Scarf of Gold besieg'd his arm; the East
Had lent its Jewels to adorn his breast.
He scorn'd to speak, but with his lofty eyes,
From whence a flash of scornfull Lightning flies,
Which scard the Pilgrim, but affrighted he
For safeguard runs behind Humility.
She with the Crosse as this proud Foe came on
With blows reitterated beat him down:
The Pilgrim then his glory, and his pomp,
And's Lance of Pow'r under his feet did stamp:
And so bemaul'd him with his Cross, that he
Feared no more this doughty Enemy.

Cyclopian darts now rend the tumid Rocks,
A horrid rore against their intrails knocks;
Where in the windings, with a new rebound
It sends forth more than a Stentorian sound.
The humble Valley quivers: Earth seems now
To totter, and to be unstable too.
Th' amazed Pilgrim fears, he thinks that Hell
Could hardly have created such a Yell.

154

The Sire of this he sees; a Polypheme
Who did with Clouds of smoak the Heavens dim,
A walking Tower from whose nosethrils came
A scalding Whirlwind; from his eyes a flame.
His right hand bore a Pine; his left a Shield,
Where flaming Ætna in a sable field
Was pourtray'd; On his lofty crest he wore
A scaly Dragon, on his breast he bore
A Tun of Iron: the neighbouring Rocks he down
Kickt, that he might to walk have elbow-room.
He opes his mouth the Postern Gate of Hell
And these words bellows with a rending Yell.
Where goes this Dwarf? did'st never hear of me?
My name is wrath, my left hand Cruelty;
My right is Power, to which all Hell below
Obeys: with which these Rocks like Balls I throw.
And what art thou? poor Pigmee! if I list
To atoms I can crush thee with my fist.
Dost thou know what thou dost? we did this Way
Prohibit Men: how darst thou disobey?
Thou hast awak'ned me, and now my power
Thy Soul, and thee together shall devour.
'Tis time to make thee tremble, for if thus
Thou dost proceed, thou'lt Triumph over us.
A score of Canons which with Sulphur strout,
When they their flaming intrails vomit out,
Scarce make a sound like that the Cyclops made
To periodize his speech, when this h'had said.

Now thinks the Pilgrim, I am dead; who may
Defend me? or this Monster's wrath allay?
He had no sooner thought, but from the Skies
A Nymph descending to his succour hies.
Smoother than Chrystal was her Skin, more fine
And soft than childrens: or the Serhan twine
With which she cloathed was; Her badge a Lamb
Was, and like such a candid one she came.
Her eyes spoke Innocence, her lovely looks
Of Comity, and Gentlenesse the books
Were: in her hand she held a glasse of oyl
Which like a Zeilan Ruby shun the while:

155

The Glasse was Mercy; the Oyl our Saviours blood:
Approaching near, she by the Pilgrim stood.
This Prophylactic Oyl alone, Cryes she
Can keep you from this Giants tyrannie:
'Tis he that did the Lamb of Life deprive,
But from that Death sprung this preservative,
Whereby you may spight of this furious one,
Passe on, and shun him, and by this alone.
The Pilgrim straight the Glasse of Mercy took
And drunk the sacred oyl, fear then forsook
And blessed Joy, and Courage took the field
Humility was this Ajacian Shield;
Meeknesse gave him her Vail, and now the Wrath
And all his menace were little worth:
For all his Thunders flye too high to hit
Him, who doth under Meeknesse' umbra sit.
What ever wound the Cyclops gave, was by
That blood he drank recur'd immediatly.
Thus he pass'd on whilst that the Wrath in vain
The ayr beat, but could not the Conquest gain.

A little farther a strange Hag he met
Whose mouth spat clouds of smoak as black as jet,
Her nose the chimney for her Hellish breath
An Ætna seem'd, her eyes, sunk in like Death
Two glaring Ovens were; her shriv'led cheeks
Sunk like two Vallies, and as black as Styx.
Her tauny Breasts like falling Mountains hung.
Two mighty Serpents 'bout her middle clung,
Two in her hands she brought, and from her head
A thousand Aspes her Back and shoulders spread:
She did with scaly Wings of Dragons flye,
The one Detraction, th' other Jealousie.
Hasty she came, and from her mouth flew fumes
Like smoak which from a Brewer's Furnace comes.
Ten Paces yet she lack't, when that a dart
From an unseen hand struck through her hellish heart:
Down fell this Tisiphone, her black fumes fled,
and she in her own gore lay buried.

The Pilgrim cast his eyes behind, to know
From whose brave Hand she had receiv'd this blow:

156

Where he beheld a Virgin, at whose Feet
All other Graces had took up their seat,
And she as Queen of all the rest up stood
As a tall Cedar 'mong the underwood.
Both Hope, and Faith before her humbled were,
And did not scorn part of her Train to bare,
A Garland crown'd her Brows, her Golden tresse
Ty'd up, through a laun Caul its Beams did presse,
Which Rayes about her sacred Visage spread,
So that always both Light, and Heat she had.
Her garments loose about her were; a flame
Of harmlesse Fire seem'd t'issue from the same,
And of so bright, and gentle Nature, that
To be burnt by't, it a desire begat.
Her hand the Bow held, whereby she had slain
The foul Hag Envy, and dissolv'd her train.
A Quiver hung, by a Mitella ty'd
(Poudred with Opalls, and with azure dy'd)
Under her left arm, where her arrows lay
Which nothing could excepting Envy slay,
Or such like evil Beasts, she always wou'd
Freely all others ills repay with Good.
Kind unto all, never provok'd, and still
Loves all, bears all things, and can think no ill.
An Ensign then, where she her self display'd
Sat, she unto the Pilgrim gave, and said,
Let this your Standard be, to friend, and foe
This glorious Flag displayed ever show.
For who wants this, let him have what he will,
The best and chiefest thing he wanteth still.
For this blest Boon, when he his thanks had paid,
A farther progresse in the Way he made.

Still stony 'twas, obstructing blocks still lay
At every turn, so that the tedious Way
Seems every step more troublesome to grow,
And when the end shall be, he doth not know.
But least he tire, Dame Patience whom he met
To bear him up her helping hand doth set,
Stooping she went under the pressing weight
Of Crosses which upon her shoulders sat.

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And yet she doth not murmur; if you will
Lay more, she'l bear the same with Patience still.
Her feet were gal'd with Travel, not an oh!
Or wry-distorted lip escapes her tho,
Perch'd on her arm a gnawing Vulture stood,
Yet she but smil'd to see her Crimson blood
Run circling thence; her fair-spread forehead, where
Nor rage, nor frowns did ever dare t'appear,
Was Crown'd with Rocket: in her eyes serene
Skies, in her Face perpetual calmes were seen.
Three leaves she from her Crown plucks, baulmed with
The sov'raign Med'cine of her constant breath,
She to the Pilgrim gav't; this Antidote
He takes, Impatience is strait forgot,
And though the Way doth rugged still remain,
He with a quiet Soul endures the Pain.
And now unto this rugged way inur'd,
It seems not difficult to be indur'd,
Pleasure from labour grows; more Joy he has,
And more it grows the farther he doth passe.
Rocks seem but pibbles, Pibbles scruples show,
These could at first, those cannot hinder now:
For whatsoe'r opposes in his Way
He it with th' humble Earth doth equal lay.
What sharp at first seem'd, now seems sweet, Joy grows
The farther in this rugged way he goes:
Which is so pleasing, and such Comfort brings,
That thus its sweetnesse in this Hymn he sings.

Adonian Gardens I despise,,
These rugged Rocks more please mine eyes,
This ruder path which leadeth to
Jerusalem surpasses you.
These Thorns, and bushes have more power
To comfort than your July-flower:
Your Pinks, and Roses bow their heads,
Unto these rough, and stony beds.
This walk of flints sha'n't come behind
Your smooth-rowl'd ones of sifted sand.

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Poor Walks! you please the Sence; The Mind,
And Soul of Man here pleasures find
The Waters which from Rocks spring here,
I to your Marble Founts prefer:
And Nymphs I have, which more do please
Than your Cærule Naiades.
Fair Groves of Pines, fair Beaches spread
Like Canopies to ward my head;
Christalline brooks, sweet Meadows, find
Green Arbours of sweet Eglantine:
Walks where the Roses sweetly smell,
Couches of Musk, and Camomill;
And whatsome'r you yield, I find
In the content of mine own mind.
My soul was pleased once with you,
But I do find the difference now;
You to my sence did pleasure yield,
But here with Joys my soul is fill'd.
I by experience now must own
This Crosse is better than your Crown
O blessed Crosse by thee a Crown I gain!
O blessed Way I here find Joyes in pain!

And now this narrow Path, this Rocky Way
Is entertained with delight, and Joy,
Pleasures, and high content he finds in this,
And Blisse receiveth in the Way to Blisse:
Nor Stone, nor Rock now in his Way doth sit,
But he or moves it, or crawles over it:
And what somever Vigilantia spies
That may annoy him he o'rcomes or flies.
But yet the Tempter will not leave but tries
And maketh use of all his policies,
And like Vertumnus puts on every shape
Rather than Man his cursed gripes should scape.
Our Pilgrim now before his watchful eyes,
A glittering Mountain in the Way espies;
A Crosse it spread, and just as he must passe
Both sides the Way by it obstructed was,
He must take notice of't, for like the Sun
It with a bright refulgent Beauty shon.

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Indeed there lay the glories of the East,
The Earth's choyce Beauties there his eyes did feast:
Decan had Diamonds sent, and Guine gold,
Peru its silver; Pegu thither rould
Its Rubies; Pearl, and Coral sent the Seas,
Tanian Emraulds; Byrils Euphrates.
Onyxes, Opals, Ind, and Arabie
Jaspers, and Saphyrs, Cyprus, Cyane:
What e'r was counted pretious there was found,
And with exuberance the Mountains Crown'd.
Next Riches, Honours lay, by heaps were seen
The Robes of State, with Purple, Crimson, green,
And Tyrian Scarlet, lyn'd; Promotions
To every Gown, and every Cap belongs;
Gay pomp lay next, where bombycinian twine
The labour of self-pris'ning worms did shine,
Tincted in various colours cut in shapes,
And fitted for the various minds in Apes.
Here Pride his wardrobe had, and Lust his shop,
Where Musk, and Amber-greece lay horded up:
Pleasures, and Earth's delights lay also there,
The Palat's pleasures rarest Cates appear;
The Brain's delight Books, mounted too on high,
And what somever objects please his eye:
And what delight the Earth affords, and what
Earth's sons could wish, were blended here, and that
With plenty, made a massy Mount, and spread
A crosse the Pilgrim's path, To Heav'n its head
It reared up; and for a while amaz'd
The busie Pilgrim, who upon it gaz'd.

But whilst his eyes read Lectures of delight,
The Mountain seems to travel with a sp'rite,
And opening at last its gaping womb,
A twy-fac'd Hag doth from its intrail's come:
Her right hand held a Magic Wand, with which,
She pointed to the Mountain, and her speech
Directed to the gazing Pilgrim thus.
O Pilgrim; Whither travel'st thou? Where does
These Riches grow? the Honors? Pleasures? Pomps?
(On which he that this vile Way travels stompes)

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Where are they but upon this Earth? Behold!
These Gemms, this Silver, and this sulpid Gold,
These Pleasures, Honours, Silken garments, and
These Cates, that all attend upon thine hand,
Are not these rare? and would they not invite
A Prince's eye? and surfet with delight
All their Spectators? Where dost think there may
Be found, than these afford, a greater Joy?
Is it not pity such things should be lost,
That of the best, and highest pleasures boast?
Is't not a crime for to desert such Gemms?
Isn't he a Fool that such things disesteems?
View but their lustre, there's no other need
To speak, that doth their worth and value plead.
Why speak I thus to thee? Dost not thou know?
All these things thou about to leave art now:
This cragged Way leads from the Earth where dwell
These Rarities you see, and doth excell
What ever you may hope to have; Fools that
Leave what is certain for they know not what!
And thou art one; thou dost already find
An asper-way: know'st thou what is behind?
Had Heav'n desired Pilgrims, not the worst
Way, but the best he would have shewed first.
Pray view their Beauties once again; ar'n't you
Quite ravish'd with their lustre? Tell me true.
Nay, why such frowns? are you displeased then?
You do mistake me, hear me once agen,
You think I'de have you Heav'n desert for these,
It seems you w'ont: But hear me if you please:
Ile but propound a question unto you;
Why may not you have these and Heav'n too?
You are a Saint; what then? Is God unjust?
Then wicked men alone Earth's Riches must
Enjoy? Shall God open his Cabinet
Of nature, and his choisest Riches set
Before the Wicked that Blaspheme his Name,
And only them? At least the Saints the same
Priviledge may enjoy. Nature doth pout
To hear you thus make her a prostitute.

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She that has made the Saints her only heires,
The wicked share not, what they have 's not theirs:
The Saints it is: They rob the Saints: I moan
To see your folly. Cheated from your own!
Nay worse! To think them hurtful ills, and make
That bad which God made good, and for your sake.
Would God, or's Handmaid Nature, such bright gemms
Created have, and with so glorious beams
Of Light, and Beauty giv'n them, for to be
Temptations to his Saints, Heav'ns Progeny?
Or rather was it not, to typifie
By these the lustre they shall bear on high?
The end of their Creation then for them's;
They then despise God's Gifts who do his Gemms.
Is th' intellect of Man (by which a Man
We only from the Bruits distinguish can)
A wicked thing? if wicked I have done,
And those that think so, surely they have none.
If good, then good it must produce; this Lace
Of Gold, this Gown, these hoods, this brodered case,
It did find out; the Honours, Arts, and what
You see, at first invented was by that;
And more it daily doth invent. If these
From good proceed, why they the Saints displease?
Why rather did not God make Man a Beast,
When by his understanding he's opprest?
And why doth it still use invention,
If 't only be for his destruction?
Review these glittering things: what harm doth there
That you despise them thus, in them appear?
They'r neither Wolves, nor Bears; nor will they bite,
That you stand's if you scar'd were at their sight.
Here take your choyce, chuse what you will; you may
Take Gemms, take Jewels, then keep on your Way:
These are not heavy, put them on and see
How like an Angel then a Saint will be.

Bright Alethia all this while stood by,
Her Beauties hiding from the Pilgrim's eye:
But now displaying of her splendid beams,
Vail'd all the brightnesse of the Mount, and Gemms;

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Like flaming Titan stepping from a cloud
Wherein he did but now his Beauties shroud.
Her beams bi fac'd Deceit detect, and shew'd
Her double-tongue from whence sh' her venom spew'd.
But to our Pilgrim from her sacred tongue
Where Hibla dwel't, these admonitions sprung.
Seest thou this Hag, this Pharmacentria?
Who with her charmes seeks to oppose thy way
To Blisse, and to felicity, indeed
Throughout the World her crafty Magic's spread,
And dress'd like me the Worlds vast stage she walks,
Feigning my voyce, and gestures when she talks,
By her I oft have been abus'd, and she
By simple hearts admitted is for me:
An innocent Lamb they judge her by her skin,
But she a ravening Wolf is found within.
My words she with her lyes doth mix, that so
Blended, none may th' one from the other know;
This is the Hag that would your Journey let,
By this vain mount of Dust, which here is set.
And what's the World? its Riches? Honours? Pleasures?
Compar'd to one grain of Heav'n's better Treasures?
There's no comparison that's fit enough,
The one Æternal, th' other mortal stuff.
No joyes, no pleasures, but they mixed are,
A grain of them, an ounce of Grief, and Care.
And as for Riches vainer than the rest
They be, by them your trouble is increast:
Honours, and Pleasures, Riches in excesse
Had you, Death spoileth all your happinesse.
They are fine things indeed for groveling Souls,
Who dare not rear their Thoughts above the Poles,
But those that once a tast of Heav'n have had,
Thinks these things vain, and their desires mad,
This World, and what it doth afford esteem
The Packthread to bind up the purchas'd Gemm.
They Heav'n seek first, and then the World is given,
But Crab-like Men Earth first, then seek for Heav'n.
Defie Deceit then, let her Hag-ship know
Thou scornest all her Treasures here below,

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And that thou bearest such a noble mind
To 'count them chaff that flyes before the Wind,
And at thy feet Earth's honour'd Crowns to spread,
Whilst to the Heav'n's thou rear'st thy lofty head.
Heav'n's Road's first pav'd with Pain, at last with Blisse:
Hel's last with Pain, at first with Pleasures is

Ah! sly Deceit that Heav'n, and Earth would joyn,
When they were sever'd by a Hand divine,
For who has Earth must Heav'n forego, and who
Heav'n will enjoy, Earth must not covet too.
Can he be worthy of Heav'ns happinesse,
That will not Earth leave that he may't possesse.
Nor is All-mighty God unjust, in that
Earth's drosse he to the Saints prohibits. What?
Doth he not know what's best? He gives this Law
Because he knows how apt the World's to draw
Their minds from their Great God: Nor does the stain
In Nature's Beauties, nor in Earth remain:
But in Man's own depraved mind, 'tis he
That turns what's pure, into impurity.
Man's Intellect not evil is, 'tis true
God did it Good create, but yet there's few
But do abuse his Gifts; for whilst that they
Such uselesse things invent, they should display
Their understandings in the highest Sphear,
Far from the reach of Earth; Behold they there
Should the bright Eye of his Divinity:
And would they fall from that Sublimity,
Nature his Book they should have read, abound
His mighty Wonders there they would have found.
But Satan spreading his most subtle traines
With subtilty, and Craft hath fill'd the braines
Of Man; so that his Wit is busied still,
In leaving Good, to find out Toyes, and Ill.
Therefore the Saints may well displeased be
With what h'invents for uselesse vanity.
Beastly Deceit! though Man's Invention,
Prove oft-times means to his Destruction,
The Fault's not God's, but wicked thine, the Devil,
And 's self; God made it very Good, you evil;

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And he must it reduce again e'r he
Enjoy can the bright Crowns of Purity.
Nor are Saints cheated from their own; what can
In all the Earth be rightly claim'd by Man?
Is not it all the Lords? may not he then
As it shall please him, give it unto Men?
Do wicked men possesse the Earth, their gain
Of that at last shall but augment their pain.
What if it be the Saints by right? shall they
If God requires to leave it not obey?
He doth, and knoweth what he does, they must
Forsake that drosse, and unto Heav'n thrust;
All must be left for Heav'n, Hearts must be loos'd
From Earth, therefore Deceit has you abus'd,
To make you think it is your right to wear
Earth's Beauties on your back, or to appear
So glorious: Thou wouldst appear to me
More Lucifer, than Angel for to be.
How prodigal Deceit is of her store!
But thou this Mount despise must, and be poor,
Defie Earth's Riches: 'Till from Heav'ns blest done
Thou dost receive them, then they are thine own.
When Heav'n adorns thee with Earth's pride, then thou
Shalt like an Angel truly shine below,
Thou then shalt honour God, and every gemm
Shall glory but to touch thy Garments hem:
All what thou dost here in thy passage meet
To stop thy way; shall tumble at thy feet:
No power have they then to hurt: And thou
Regard them shalt no more than dunghills now.
'Till then thou leave them must, and follow the
Most rare Example of Humility.

With that she from her sacred Bosom drew
A Picture, and repos'd it to the view
Of the Cœlestial Traveller, where one
The best skill in the Graphic Art had shown:
The Pencil guided by some hand divine,
Had there trick't out the fruitfull Palestine,
Had shew'd Judæa, and Jerusalem,
The famous Temple, Jordan's Christal stream,

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All Galilee, the Hamlet Nazareth,
And Bethlehem, where God in flesh had Birth.
His Life, his Miracles, his Death, and where
He buried was, was rarely pourtray'd there.
Behold (said Alathia) here's the story
Of the great King of Meeknesse, and of Glory,
Who cloath'd himself with mortal flesh, and blood,
And shed the same to do poor sinners good.
This is the Pattern of Humility
View this fair Copy, thou the ectype be:
Consider the immensity of Love,
Past the poor reach of Man, and far above
His most capacious thoughts to Comprehend
The depth of it, which to the very end
Of Æternity doth reach, Immensity
Of Love, and Oceans of Humility.

With pious reverence turn here thine eye,
Thy Saviour view in's Infant Majesty,
See how Heav'n smileth in his eyes, what Grace
Already beameth in his sacred Face!
Those Rayes divine though vaild with flesh, and blood,
Break through their Closure, and make bright their Cloud.
O depth of Meeknesse! O great Cæsars fling
Your Crowns, and stately Robes aside: The King
Of great Olympus, and of all the Earth,
Humility doth teach you by his birth.
See where he lies, his high-roof'd Chamber is
A despicable Stable; look how this
Poor Crib supplies a Cradle's place; you see
No gilded Cradle; here no Couches be.
This Hay (grown soft by's sacred touch, doth own
A happinesse) serves for a bed of Down.
The Crib's hard side a pillow is, alasse!
His Chamber-fellows are the Ox, and Asse.
Darknesse surrounds the Earth, and whilst 'tis hurld
Through Hearts as well as Eyes, into the World,
The Sun of Righteousnesse doth come, 'tis he
That Day, and Light, and Sun to all must be.
His Winter too, snow hangs on every bough,
Tearts had their Ice, their Snows, and Winter too,

166

But in the midst of Hyems is the King
Born that to Hearts, and to the World's the Spring.
See Where his Mother the blest Virgin on
Her bended knees doth wait upon her Son.
Nought but Humility can here be seen,
In all the World's great King, and Earth's blest Queen.
See where the Virgin-mother tyes about
His sacred limbs, a clean, but homely clout:
You see no Tyrian-tincted mantle there,
Shining with Gold, no uselesse Vailes appear,
Broder'd with Lace; a piece of home-spun cloth,
Is Vail, is Mantle, Rug, and Blanket both.
For lack of better Aras, see where spreads
Upon the walls, busie Arachne's threads:
See with what pains that careful Animal,
With her best art labours to hang the Wall.
Nought but Humility can here be seen,
In all the World's great King, and Earth's chast Queen.
Although this birth with so much lowlinesse
Accompan'ed, simplicity expresse,
And of small value seem t'ambitious Earth,
Heav'ns Choresters rejoycing at his birth
Sing this Antiphona: Salvation is
Come unto Man by this blest Genesis!
VVhilst others answer with a high-tun'd voyce,
Rejoyce O Earth! both Earth and Heav'n rejoyce!
Salvation now is come to you below,
At Jesu's Name all hearts and knees shall bow!
VVhilst thus his great Name the Cœlestial Quire
Resound, his mystic Birth they all admire,
Æternity before, nor ever shall
Again, a Wonder see so mystical.
Th' Æternal God takes humane flesh, and blood,
And all what Man has, sin excepting had.
O Wonder! wonderfull indeed it is;
The greatest Wonder I e'r told was this.
His end was to redeem fall'n man, but you
May see his Life to be exemplar too.

O pious lowlinesse! See where he stands
To be Baptiz'd by John's lesse worthy Hands;

167

See how the Chrystal Streams his Limbs do kisse,
From whence they take a far more purer Blisse.
And if that any staines they have, from thence
The sacred touch of his blest flesh doth rince
Them clean; see how part of those gentle Streams,
Loath to depart are chang'd to Chrystal Gemms,
Which from his skin receive their lustre, they
Melt into Tears when that they glide away.
You see no glaring Gold, no gaudy Lace
Upon his back, no Pedlars shops embrace
His Holy wast; one seamlesse Coat supplies
(To hide his Beauties from prophaner eyes)
All Ornaments. O single Poverty!
The Wing'd inhabitants of ayr, they be
Not destitute of Nests, the Foxes they
Have Dens, but he whereon his Head to lay
Has not a place; Heaven and Earth's great Lord,
Earth don't the favour of a Home afford.

Now view his Court, they like himself are clad,
Two coats, two scrips, two pair of shoos forbad
They were; poor Fisher men, such chose he, they
Happy forsake the VVorld, themselves deny
All things: The sinners, and the Publicans
Are oftentimes made his Companions.
The Supercilious Scribe, and Pharisee,
Scorn him, and he his blessed Company
Denies to them, their Pride, and wickednesse,
Are opposite to 's Worth, and lowlinesse.
See here the mirror of Humility,
See where he humbly on his knees doth lye,
And though he Lord be, yet he thinks it meet
For our example, to wash clean the Feet
Of his Disciples, the slaves office thus
He takes, who is Lord o're the World, and us.
See where he doth his Body break: O that
You had but eyes to see the blessed meat
He gives under those Elements of Bread,
And Wine: His Body and his Bloud is shed
Thereby into their Souls; though from your eye
'Tis hid, he gives his blest Humanity.

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They on his Body feed, and I must tell
You, here he wrought a mighty Miracle.
All those who truly do receive this food,
Do feed upon his Body, and his Blood,
Not by a notion? really they do,
A Sacrament indeed; yet known to few.

The mirrour of all Patience see: he that
The Angels thought a Happinesse to wait
Upon, and at whose Call ten Legions would,
His foes have into thousand pieces pull'd,
Is bound, and fetter'd; see what Majesty
Reignes in his eyes mixt with Humility.
See with what meeknesse he doth turn his cheek,
Whilst it the wicked multitude do strike:
See how he bears their buffets; where they spit
Upon his Face, see how he beareth it
Speaks not a word, but rather pitties them,
Who slay their own Souls in their murthering him.
See where they mock him, how they presse the blood
With a Thorn'd-Crown from out his sacred Head:
See how they scourge him here, the Crimson stream
Blushing to see their Rage reproveth them.
See how the whole Worlds sins are on him thrown,
A spotlesse Lamb, who guilty is of none:
But see their wickednesse encreas'd, lo here
He's Crucifi'd; see how the cursed Spear
Pierces his blessed side, O sacred spring!
Which doth Health, Life, and t'all Salvation bring.
Will they accept of it, this stream doth run
Not for a few to sip, but every one
Here drench his lips may, without price all may
Drink of this stream, which from his side doth flow:
See how it runs, how plentifull; the Blood
Flows through the whole World, and becomes a flood.

Christ dy'd for all; that Dogma is untrue
Which says he dy'd but for a very few:
And those elected (partially) by God
Before or Time, or Man had their abode.
O strange! Shall God to Life some few Elect,
And all the World besides (O hard!) reject?

169

Thus says the wicked then: If God has chose
Me unto Life, I cann't Salvation lose,
Let me live how I will: If good I be
If I'm rejected I no Heav'n shall see.
I'le take my swing in wickednesse, for I
As God decreed has, shall or Live, or dye.
'Tis true God from Eternity foresaw
Who should be dam'd, and sav'd, but that no Law
On such impos'd: then this Election
In Time is, doth Conditionally run,
That they persever in Obedience,
And Faith, if not they then may fall from thence.
So all Elected are, not one debarr'd
From Life; who otherwise do think, a hard
And cruel master of the Lord make, rather
Than a most merciful, and Loving Father.
As God conditionally Elected All,
In the same manner was our Saviours fall
For every one: nor must it follow then
Because he dy'd for all, therefore all men
Must sav'd be, it Conditionally is.
Suppose there were a Well so full of Blisse,
That all Diseases it would remedy,
And that it free for every one did lye,
It is employ'd, though 't be for every one
That 'tis for those that come, and those alone,
Effectually: 'Tis just that they who will
Not thither come keep their Diseases still.
Nor doth God's Will depend on man's in this,
Because God Wills it so, God's Will it is.
This is that Living spring, whilst man remains,
This still shall flow to wash his fouler stains,
Without this he cannot be pure, nor come
Where Christ is to the new Jerusalem.
O blessed spring! Water of Life! here we
The highest words without Hyperbole
May use; O 'tis the blessed Nectar of
The holy Angels, and bless'd Saints above.
His flesh is there Ambrosia; 'tis by this
We may attain an Apotheosis.

170

By this bless'd food all heav'nly Souls are fed,
And through the Earth it doth its Bounties spread:
Think it not strange, if those may feed on't too
Who live in India, and that never knew,
Or heard of this bless'd Jesu's dying day,
Circumscribe not his flesh, and Blood I say,
No one without it can be sav'd: O damn
Not all that ne'r heard that he dy'd for them.
This Blood's a Living spring; poor souls impute
This to themselves, and yet themselves pollute
With beastly sins: His Blood hath wash'd us clean
Cry they, and so continue in their sin.
O sad presumption! whilst they crucifie
Christ in their Hearts, by's Blood we'r sav'd to Cry!
I say His Blood's a Living spring, and your
Soul feed on's flesh must, drink his Blood most pure,
If that Salvation you intend to have,
'Tis that believe me that alone must save!
What this his flesh, and Blood is, partly you
Do know the same, and shall more clearly too,
The farther in this way you go, 'tis that
That every pious Soul doth animate.
It is a Sacrament tongues cann't expresse,
'Tis Life, 'tis Virtue, Power, Holinesse,
By it all things subsist, it penetrates
All things, all quickens, all things animates.
The Angels food, the same Humanity
That sits at God's right Hand, the same that the
Jews crucifi'd, that 'rose again, and is
Our Propitiation 'tis the same 'tis this.

Thou seest here his Life, and nothing there
Did in't without a mysterie appear.
He bound was, spit upon, whipt, crucified,
Pierc'd with a Sphear thorough his sacred side.
Here Contemplate, all is mysterious, and
Man may by it his vast Love understand.

171

See here, where he gives up the Ghost, here thou
Upon the Wings of Contemplation now
Mayst ride: O sacred Death! See where the Sun
Obscured is; how Rocks do rend in twain:
See how the Graves are op'd; see where the dead
Arise: O this, this is the Day they did
So long expect; which oft in dayes of old
The Prophets by their Prophesies foretold.
Now trembles Hell, now all the Devils quake,
Now suffers Lucifer, now Hell doth shake:
For now the Light shuts up Hel's Centre; now
The mighty Wrath of God is broken too;
Christ underwent it, and for mortal man
Through th' envious Wrath made now a Path again.
He pierc'd the Principle of Wrath, and there
Love, Wrath, and Light all reconciled were.
O sacred Sacrament! these mysteries
Are hid, and strange to more prophaner eyes:
But I will more declare; attend and be
An Auditor unto no one but me:
I in the Scriptures dwell, there find you may
What I declare as clear, as is the Day.
VVhen Adam fell in Paradise, O then
He 'wak'd the Wrath of God against all men
That should succeed, the Wrath then potent grew
And like a wall bar'd up the way unto
Blest Paradise, all men excluded were,
And 'twas impossible to enter there.
This Adam saw too late; then was the seed
The blest seed of the Woman promised,
VVhich should by being bruised in the Heel
Of Death, break Wrath's strong head, and make him feel
His mighty power: This Adam saw, and all
The Patriarchs, and Prophets, that befall
This should; in this they all rejoyc'd: thus saw
With joy old Abraham this blessed Day.

The fiery Law to Moses given forth
VVas, represented by those terrors, Wrath
The Zeal, and Justice of Jehovah, and
In which no man (but Christ alone) could stand

172

So Moses could not into Canaan bring
The Israelites; now learn we by this thing
That 't must be Jesus, who for all hath dy'd,
Who by great Joshua was typifi'd.
None enters Heav'n till he that came from thence
First enter'd had, 'tis for the mighty Prince
Jesus the Saviour that this honour was
Kept, and till he had not a man could passe.
See then the work of this God-man, 'tis He
The second person in the Trinity,
Who flesh indues, such as you have, no foul
Stain tincting it, in that an humane soul,
Cloth'd with a Body, such as Adam had
Before he with grosse flesh, and Blood was clad:
Three Principles intire he had, abode
He then did for you all the Wrath of God:
Then sweat he drops of Blood; this agony
Endured was so that you all might be
Sav'd from the Wrath he underwent; for Man
Unto the Fathers Justice was he then
A Sacrifice: his Soul for you abode
In Hell, and there quenched the Wrath of God.
Through it a Way he made for every one.
That after him to Paradise shall come.

173

So long as Adam slept when Eve was made,
So long he in the Grave and Anger staid.
But then that Body pure angelical,
That Earth of which Adam was made, the fall
Not having yet Cloath'd him, with such as you,
And other Mortals sprung from him, indue.
This Body Christ assum'd, the which did straight
His Crucified Body penetrate,
And wholly swallow'd up, so that it then
Could passe th'row Walls, and walk unseen by men;
But when he pleas'd to shew himself; so all
Bodies shall rise, this flesh, and blood and all.
Such flesh and blood shall enter heav'n. Now four
Times ten dayes he remain'd, just, and no more
In Paradise; there tempted he withstood
VVhat flung down Adam like a rushing flood:
Confirmed now, to Heav'n he ascends,
In his Disciples sights, and there remains.
See where they gazing stand, see where a Cloud
His Body from their mortal eyes doth shroud.
Now he to Glory goes, in 's Company
The Patriarchs, and holy Prophets be,
And all those who before him dy'd, who on
The promis'd seed did trust which was to come.
Abraham the Father of the faithfull Band,
Dischargeth now his holy Bosom, and
Close follows Jesus with his blessed train,
And so th' Imperial Court of Heav'n they gain:
And thus Angelical Bodies getting rise
With joy, and with him enter Paradise,

174

VVhere they in Heav'n remain. In Heav'n he is,
The cause of joys, of happinesse, of blisse.
'Tis he makes Heav'n, and there where he doth stand
Is Paradise, which is at God's right Hand.
O mount not now beyond the clouds, for where
The second Principle remains, 'tis there
That Heav'n is; nor can it be confin'd,
Nor comprehended in thy darker mind,
So that a local place thou in thy head
Imaginest, when that its Court doth spread
Th'row out the World; a way to Paradise
And Heav'n there is, and yet not th'row the Skies.
This Path will lead thee thither, thou shalt know,
The Way not out, but into Heav'n doth go.
'Tis to the Centre thou must presse, for there
Heav'n, and the glorious Angels will appear:
There Jesus is, and when he comes again,
Not as before shall he in flesh remain,
No more be Crucifi'd, but then he shall
VVith his bright Glory swallow up this Ball.
Then Paradise shall manifested be:
This is the Day all Saints do long to see.
Keep safe this Picture, and be sure that thou
Continually do this bright Pattern view,
Him only imitate; see now if that
These things which here are offer'd by Deceit
Are worth a grain of Dust, compar'd unto
Those Riches that in Paradise do grow.
Kick down Deceit, and all her toyes despise;
Follow thou Me I'le shew thee Paradise.

Thus Alathia ends, the while his eyes,
The Pilgrim to the perfect Pattern ties,
On it they dwell; where they such sweetnesse found
That to a meditation so profound
And deep as may be, they his soul attract;
That Life so spotlesse, and so pure to act
He now desires, Christ now his Pattern is;
And in his steps he seeketh after Blisse.

175

Whilst thus his busie eyes run to, and fro,
On that which Alathia did bestow
Upon him; all the circumambient ayr
Began to glow, and seemed all on fire.
The Pilgrim 'gan to feel the glowing heat
His Cheeks grew red, his Face, and Temples sweat,
About he looks, to see from whence it came,
When that he spies a Chariot all on flame
Which two swift Coursers drew, their flaming breath
Threatning to all that should oppose them Death.
VVith a Jehuan pace on wheels of speed
Down the next Rock Horses, and Chariot slide,
And up another ran, e'n to the top
Before hot Zelus could's swift Coursers stop.
Doubling their sturdy necks he back again
Inforces them, with much ado refrain
At last he did his furious Steeds, and from
His Chariot did unto the Pilgrim come.
His Robes were flames of fire, pouder'd with Hearts
Winged with flames, struck th'rough with flaming Darts,
His eyes a piercing ardor sent, his Hand
Bore both a steeled Lance, and flaming brand:
The Pilgrim he accosts, and easily got
VVith him to mount his flaming Chariot.
Now glows his heart, and now a Champion
For God he is, with fury he upon
Deceit doth set; against the Mountain flings
His Spear, tramples upon her finer things,
Scatters her Gold, and silver; doth despise
Her Honours, Dainties, Pleasures, Braveries.
Under his feet he tramples that at last
His flaming Brand amongst them all he cast,
The fire takes hold consuming them to nought,
The Mount it to a heap of ashes brought.
VVhat? cryes the Pilgrim, shall a mount of dust
To stop my passage unto Heav'n, thrust
It self between me, and my God? so shall
This brand what e'r opposes cause to fall.
Nought stand 'tween me and Heav'n shall, if it do,
This Spear, this Brand, this hand shall make it bow.

176

The World, and all things I'le forsake, and I
Father and Mother also will deny,
And hate them too, if they opposers be,
And stand betwixt blest Paradise, and me.
Heav'n's in my eye, its Beauties are my prize:
Heav'n's a Reward for him that Earth denyes.
My Way I am resolved to make Good,
Although I stand up to the chin in blood,
A fire agitates my Limbs, and now
Both World and all things Zeal shall make to bow.
This said, he hurries up and down the Way,
His furious Steeds, cannot stand still, nor stay,
What e'r appears the hot-spur'd Pilgrim now
Without examination makes to bow:
The furious Steeds over the Mountains flye,
Feeling the Reines loose on their necks to lye,
And ready to præcipitate their Guide,
Down the steep ridges of the Rocks they slide,
Sometimes they're in the Way, sometimes they're out,
Sometimes they backward run, sometimes about,
And o're the Rocks, their heady course they take:
Th'rough fire, and water they their voyage make.
The next Way that appears he takes; and what
He thinks is Good, others must bow to that.
This furious Course makes him to lose the Way,
And up and down at every turn to stray:
What e'r he sees under his Censure comes;
As well in Judgements, as in Zeal he fumes.

But whilst with Zeal he runneth up, and down,
A Matron met him, on whose awfull frown
Sat a most comely Gravity, Serene,
And free from tempests, her clear face was seen:
Her eyes something of Majesty did bear,
And over hearts did sweetly domineer:
Her face enough of Beauty had; and she
In all her make bore a just symmetrie.
Her cloaths were grave, and decent, neither were
They cut to all modes, nor yet singular.
Her pace was grave, in every thing she did,
A Dove, and Serpent, seemed to be hid.

177

Her right hand bore a Dove, her left did hold
A Serpent, which its tail about her rowl'd.
Meeting the Pilgrim from his hands she took
The slack'ned reines, and thus her mind she broke.
Stay zeal-sparr'd Pilgrim! if thou safe wilt be
Thou must commit the Reines of Zeal to me:
In this rough path, and 'tween the Mountains, let
Me be your guide, least that you danger meet.
Zeal drives so fast, that he will quickly err;
Unlesse my Dove, and Serpent draw the Carr.
Those who without me go, become forlorne,
Lose the right Path, prove to the World a scorn:
Cast Pearls before the snowts of Swine; and feed
The ravenous Dogs, with holy Childrens bread:
Dangers incur, which they might fairly shun,
Do what they by and by wish were undone.
Admit of me and I will be your guide,
I know which Way, how, where, and when to ride:
Trust me and I will bear you in my armes,
Untouched through the Multitude of Harmes.
That Majesty which beamed in her Face
Constrain'd the Pilgrim to consent; a place
Upon his right hand for her he provides,
And now he soberly, and softly rides:
Prudence is joyn'd with Zeal: nor does this want
Its former heat, but lesse extravagant,
By that is made. He who will rightly move,
Must first conjoyn the Serpent and the Dove.

Now safely goes our heav'nly Traveller
Nor from this blest (though rugged) path doth err,
Nothing appears that may obstruct his Way,
But it he even with the Earth doth lay.
Dame Vigilantia all about doth seek
For 's foes; which found Zeal doth their powers break:
Conquers them quite, and by their fall doth raise
Trophies of Honour, and immortal praise.

By halves God will not have his work be done:
Nor must those faulter who this Race do run.
Clean must the house be swept to find the groat:
All must be sold before the Pearl be bought.

178

No Delilah must shave thy Locks: but she
Must be o'recome lest that she conquer thee.
Though thus far thou art gone, as yet there may
Some Delilah be left for to betray
Thee to thy foe; let Vigilantia find
Her out, then let Zeal all her powers bind,
And cast her from thee; whatsome'r it be
Thou 'rt loath to part with, Delilah's to thee:
But when she conquer'd is, faster thou 'lt move,
On wings of speed, unto the Gates of Love.
Thus Vigilantia to our Pilgrim brought
His Delilah, the which he little thought
For to have parted with; and must she dye
Cryes he, who did within my bosom lye?
Yes, answer'd Zeal, God will with none dispence,
Slain on the Altar of Obedience
She must be e'r we farther passe: she slain
He posteth forward without stop amain:
With full Carere he runs, and full of Joy
Leaveth behind him all the rugged Way.

He enters now a place where all about
Light like the Sun, from bright Clouds issues out.
By this clear Light he now begins to see,
What hurtfull rebels all the Passions be,
And how the Sences hurt; irregular
Affections also how they hurtful are.
Therefore he these now takes to task: and first
The Rebel Passions that oppose him durst
He conquereth; these now his slaves become
Who had so often Lorded over him.
He will not kill them quite, because they may
Be useful to him, whilst they him obey:
Not meerly Stoical; in order he
Keeps them: He's Lord, and they his servants be.
Then all the Sences he doth Regulate,
And their excursions wisely moderate:
Makes them to know that he's their Lord, and they
Are forced now his pleasure to obey.
Carnal affections stoop: These Crucifie
He doth, lest they should draw his mind awry.

179

Where he God's Image seeth most, he there
Doth his affections (as in justice) share.

By this same Light he also sees that he
Can in the Earth own no propriety;
All that he hath he offers to the Lord
He's but a Steward, and must nothing hoard
Contrary to his Master's Will; but here
Prudence directs him how his Goods to share:
Else subtle Sathan would step in the while,
And with his tricks would him of all beguile.

By this Light also he espies his flesh
To be a Case made up of Earthly trash,
A prison to his Soul; now he espies,
Another Body in that Body lies:
The inward man, which as the outward dies,
Lives, gathers strength, and doth in triumph rise.
This Body now he longeth to attain,
And by the death of all things it to gain.
Now every motion opposite must die:
Flesh, and its Members he doth crucifie,
All things are sacrific'd by Diligence
Upon the Altar of Obedience.
The fleshly body every hour dies,
The sp'ritual doth as fast in triumph rise.

He's now diswedded from the World; He knows:
He's not to be now at his own dispose,
Therefore his Body, Soul, and spirit he,
Doth consecrate to Heav'ns high Majestie.
All that he has to Heav'n he offers, and
All he retains comes from its bounteous Hand.
Now joyes surround him, Comfort is the Way,
Nor Night is seen, all is a mystic Day,
The Sun of Righteousnesse his brighter Beams
Displays, and th'rough his Heart his sweetest streams
Of brightnesse run: his spiritual foes stand off,
And dare not venture for a Counter-buff:
They tremble now, and fear the World's grand tye
Will be assunder burst by Chastity;
For she appears unto the Pilgrim now,
Who to her feet his humble Head doth bow.

180

Her eyes gave flames, as pure as those which lye
Beyond the blew Seas of the azure Skie:
Her countenance a brighter Light did grace,
Than that which shineth in Diana's Face.
But when her virgin Lips she opened,
Th' incircling ayr with purity was spread;
Thither their Purple Wings the Turtles move,
To draw the ayr in, of the purest Love.
The joyning Corals happy Kisses break
She did: and thus did to the Pilgrim speak.
Hail happy Pilgrim! who thus far art from
Earth's durty soyl, and foul pollutions come,
Not far thou art from the blest City, but
Before thou thither come 'tis requisite,
That thee, and I should joyn; therefore receive
From me the Bounties that I daily give.
Unlesse thou with my Mantle cover'd be,
Thou never shalt the heav'nly Salem see.
Polluted eyes, polluted hearts, and hands,
Must not come there: Heav'n will admit no stains
Flesh must not enter Heav'n; nor can you come
Cloathed with that into the secret Room,
Where the grand Mysteries are revealed, by
Heav'n's gracious Prince, the Son of Majesty.
The fleshes quickly-vanish'd pleasures soul
With spots the cloathing of the purest Soul,
Spread clouds before her eyes, so that she may
Not see the brightnesse of the purest day:
And hang a Vail between her felmed eyes,
And the blest Ark of sacred Mysteries.
'Tis I that must make white the Soul, and that
Dark Cloud before her dull eyes dissipate:
'Tis I must draw aside this Vail; 'tis I
That lead the Way to Heav'ns great Mysterie:
Christ doth all this by me; 'tis I that am
Sent for to woo the Soul from flesh to him.
I speak not now to those that are below,
But unto such who would desire to know
The highest secrets; who'd dull Earth forsake,
And would a lofty flight to Heaven make:

181

Who would converse with Angels, who would hear,
The Heav'nly Musick of the inner Sphear.
Who would the fruits of Paradise enjoy:
To such I speak; such must make me their Way.
The holy Angels who immortal be
Are cloathed with the Robes of Purity,
Pure Chastity doth crown their brows, now these
A pure, chast Soul, and unpolluted sees,
With such they love for to Converse; but give
Their backs to such as do not chastly Live;
They cann't endure for to come near to those:
Chast Souls they Love, their Love from likenesse grows.

But 'tis not good that man should be alone
Without a Spouse; I have provided one
For thee therefore, therefore the flesh forsake,
And this into thy armes, and bosom take.
Lo here a draught of that blest Face I spread,
To whom in time thou shalt be maried:
It is Sophia, she shall be thy Bride,
The Spouse of Christ, and all the Saints beside.

A Virgin she Eternal is, and I
From her blest Gift receive all purity.
From her Arabia doth her sweets receive,
She to the Lillies doth their Candor give;
'Tis she the Roses with those blushes dies:
The Sun his splendor borrows from her eyes:
The Silver Rivers do their Crystal owe
To her, from her their purity doth flow:
'Tis she that doth the Earth with beauties deck
I'th' Spring: and loads with fruit, and sheaves her neck
I'th' Autumn: she adorns the Trees with Leaves;
From her the Tulip all her gay receives,
All the rare Beauties that the World do grace,
Are the reflected shadows of her Face,
They fade away, but hers do never fade:
What is Æternal cannot be decaid
By Time: she still is young no wrinkles dare
Upon her everlasting brows appear.
The variegated Cloud-reflected bow,
Which doth so many lovely colours show;

182

Earth's Gold, and Silver, and each brighter Gemm,
Do but adorn her Garments lowest hemm.
Her beauties are Cœlestial, mortal eyes
Cann't see her; who beholds her beauty dies.
But thou the Picture of thy Spouse shalt see,
Whom thou enjoy shalt to Æternity.

She on his shoulders then her mantle throws,
Whiter than Lilies, or the Alpin snows,
Embrodered with Purity, and round
About with Modesty, and Silence bound:
APOCALYPSIS, who did on her wait
She call'd, and bid her shew the Image strait
Of high Sophia the unspotted Bride,
An azure Volumn her bright Hands unty'd,
And then unrouling it, the Pilgrim sees
Sophia's bright, and blest Effigies.

Go now and travel all Earth's Countries o're,
From Eastern Ind, to the Tartessian shore,
Pick up the cream of Beauties, and from thence
(Adding those past) extract a quintessence:
Let now conspire in one Alchimechus,
Apelles, Zeuxis, and Pharrhasius,
Let their best skil be by their Pencils known,
And let the mirror of their Art be shown,
In the composure of a beauteous Face
That may all others living quite disgrace.
And let their Brothers with Poetick skill
Surpasse their Pencils with their better Quill,
Let them with Ink their Wonders shew, (who make
Bright Heav'n a lustre from that blacknesse take)
In setting forth a Beauty, when all 's done,
As rotten-shining Wood unto the Sun,
His Glorious splendor: so their works will be
To that rare piece our Pilgrim here did see.

I dare not venture here for to depaint,
The Beauties of that Face; the World's too scant
To yield materials, and I words should want,
How can her all-surpassing Form be penn'd,
When her Idea none can comprehend?

183

The soul that sees her, feels her, and her worth
Is better felt than can be spoken forth.
The fulvid Gold which is esteem'd so rare,
But the reflection of her golden Hair
Is; All the Silver did its brightnesse get,
And silveriz'd was when it touch'd her feet.
The Chrystal Rivers were like Ink, she gave
Them clearnesse when she did her finger lave
In their dark streams: A drop fell from her Hand,
Which being gave to the clear Crystals; and
Th' oriental Pearls. She look'd upon the Sun
And ever since she with that splendor shon.
She glanc'd her eye upon the Night's fair Queen,
She caught that glance, e'r since she fair hath been.
A spark flew from her Heavn'ly eye, it seems
Tellus snatch't that which essence gave to Gemms.
The ayr permitted was to kisse her Hand,
Who ever since its sweetnesse has retain'd.
Over the Globe stood black triumphing Death,
Till she but tasted of her sacred breath,
Prolific strait she was, and from her womb
Oceans of Heards, of Trees, of Herbs did come.
By it still all things live: The Pink, the Rose
And each sweet Flower that on Tellus grows,
Receive from her their odoriferous Fumes,
Which emanation from her Body comes.
Some of her Beauty down she flung below
Which all things caught that now do Beauty show.
Roses and Rubies which do rarely shine,
Are but umbrella's to her lips divine:
Those Seas of Claret in the azure Skies
Seen, when bright Sol down in the Ocean lies,
Or Tyrian blushes, if you them compare
To what buds in her cheeks meer deadnesse are:
As far below the Beauty and the Blisse
Seen there, as Earth to th' highest Heav'n is.
How can a Pen, or Pencil then depaint
Her; without whom all things do beauty want!
Her own hand 'twas that thus her self did limn,
And by APOCALYPSIS sent it him.

184

On this attracting Face our Pilgrim throws
His eyes, his Soul thorow those windows goes,
With so much joy that all her faculties
Intentively assembled in his eyes,
All other parts left destitute; in this
Capital City Oculipolis
The Soul and all her train are seated; by
That Beauty drawn into an Extasie.
Whilst greedily with gazing eyes he feeds
Upon the Beauties of that Face, there speeds
Down from the Poles, a Heav'nly Bow-man, who
The humid Æther all the Way he slew
Warm'd with a gentle heat: His Silver Wings
Th'row the calm æquor of the ayr he swings.
A pleasant spring upon his Face did bud,
His head was shadow'd with a golden Wood:
In either Cheek the Roses white and red,
Scarlet and snows symmetrically spread
His eyes two pleasant stars, whose aspects were
More pleasing than Venus or Jupiter.
A chain of Saphyrs bound his Ivory neck:
A snowy Mantle which gold Stars did deck
Hung on his shoulders, and inclos'd his wast,
A gilded Quiver at his back ty'd fast
Was; one hand with a silver Bow was fill'd,
He under th' other arm a prisner held.
Chastity's Cupid 'twas, who went to fetch
At her Command the Spurious Cyprian wretch:
And catching him dealing his wanton darts,
On sportful youths, and Courtly Ladies hearts.
He hither brought him by Commandement
Of 's Mistresse, to give him his punishment:
Being he was her chiefest foe, and had
His bainful poysons on her Virgins shed.
She, daigning not on him her eyes to cast,
Bid her chast Cupid slash his wanton wast.
Binding his Hands (that oft had prisners made)
With his own Scarf he to a Tree him ty'd:
Robbing a Willow of its boughs, a Rod
He made, and soundly whipt this wanton God.

185

He flea'd his back, and with his wanron blood
Dy'd all the grasse in 'Crimson where he stood.
Then broke his bow, and arrows; His fine Quiver
And Crown of Roses flung into the River.
This done he let him loose: since which disgrace
He ne'r was seen to come a near this place.
Lost in the Face which he did contemplate
Our Pilgrim was, nor would he extricate
Himself and if he could: He ne'r did prize
Enough before, the blessing of his eyes;
Ravish'd he was; but blessed CHASTITY
Spake to her CUPID with her speaking eye;
He understood the Dialect; and drew
A Golden arrow from his Quiver: Blew
The Feathers were, the point was living flame,
This notch'd in 's silver Bow, he took his aym
Like a good Archer of the Pilgrim's heart,
And th'rough the same he shot the flaming dart.
A gentle Fire, and sweetly glowing heat
The Pilgrim feels; his quicker pulses beat;
Th'row his Limbs the living flames do spread,
With pleasures joyn'd not to be uttered.
No blood ran from the Wound, he feels no smart,
Although the shaft had cleft in two his Heart:
Those flames made Wounds of Joy: heal'd those of pain,
Dispel'd all ills, did Life, and Health retain.
A constant ardor now burns in his Breast,
Being with th' immortal fire of Love possest:
And wholly swallow'd up in them, he fryes
In pleasing Flames: becomes Heav'ns Sacrifice.
He lives in Flames; but they'r chast flames of blisse:
He is in Love: but with SOPHIA 'tis.
Is not it madnesse to indulge a Foe?
Do men cry when they from their prisons go?
Do men love chaines, and fetters to suppresse
Their eager flight unto their Happinesse?
Yea, sure they do all this, who here do move
In chaines of flesh: and do such prisons love.
The free-born soul, were it not chain'd below,
Above the Stars its nimble Fires would throw.

186

See all the World at once, and swiftly run
About the Heav'ns, and clearer than the Sun.
Had not the Pilgrim had a fleshly case,
He longer might have seen SOPHIA'S Face:
Alasse! our Souls enchain'd to Dust, and Night,
Cannot behold the splendors of that Light
Too strong for flesh, and blood; Whose flames will be
To flesh, as Jove prov'd once to Semele.
Our eyes without apparent hurt cann't gaze
Against the Sun: Nor can those heav'nly Rayes
Of high Beatitude the Soul see here
Maried to flesh, long, 'cause that cannot bear
The Soul's high flight, but that she suffers, so
She holds the Soul, lest she should from her go.
Apocalypsis well man's frailty knew,
Therefore she blest Sophia's Face withdrew,
And vail'd it from the Pilgrim's eyes: To whom
Thus Chastity; whose words flew in perfume.
Is not one glimpse of thy Cœlestial Bride
More glorious than all the World beside?
Didst ever tast in those dull streams of Blisse
The World affords, a pleasure like to this
Thou hast received by a Vision? then
How far more great wil't be! how ample! when
Thou full fruition shalt enjoy! and be
Blest with her Blisses to Æternity!
When that thy Soul, cloath'd with immortal Day,
Has shaken off these shackling Robes of clay!
In Vailes she now is forced to appear,
'Cause Flesh connot her ample Beauty bear.
See that she only Mistresse of thy Heart
Remain; for she'l not be content with part:
Thou must not share it 'tween Mortality
and Her, she'l bear no such indignity.
If ever Mistresse Hearts intire deserv'd,
If ever to be punctually serv'd,
'Tis she: see then (although thou canst not merit
One grain of what thou shalt by her inherit)
That thou prove faithful to her Love, and she,
Hers, with Heav'ns Kingdom, will return to thee.

187

Down bows the Pilgrim to the ground his Breast,
And in these Words his constancy exprest.
I know my frailty, and my weaknesse, and
That I alone, and of my self can stand
Not one poor moment: By the help of Grace
Supported: First the Sun shall change his Face
And glorious splendor into pitchy Night;
Flames first shall cease for to ascend upright:
The brinish Seas shall over Atlas flow,
The Vine and Olive in Asphaltes grow.
First Sol shall rise out of the Western main,
And in the Japon Sea his flaming Wain
At evening drench: December shall be May:
And Trees in June shall sheets of snows d'splay:
Noon shall be Night; Nature inverted be,
Before I yield unto Inconstancy.
Before I leave her whom my Soul hath chose,
And her forgetting, to another close.
Those ardent flames which now surround my Heart,
Will so dispose me that I ne'r shall start
From her to whom whilst in this flesh I breath
I do my Life, Heart, Acts, thoughts all bequeath.
O noble Resolution! which doth move
From those bright flames of Zeal, and ardent Love!
Hell trembles when he hears th' inspired tongue
Of valiant Souls resolv'd, to speak such strong
Hel-battering Words, such sounds do quickly go,
Both to the Angels, and the Devils too;
Piercing both Worlds, sound quickly in their ears,
Fill those with Joy, these with disturbing Fears.
If the dull flames of the Idalian brat,
In tired Souls most strangely operate;
Making them bow unto their Idol-toy
That from her presence they receive no Joy:
And 'count the pleasures of a Crown lesse blisse,
Than those they gain when they her Lips do kisse:
If they so strangely Man can alter, so
As for to make him all the World forego,
For this one Idol, never feeling ease
Longer then while he doth his Mistresse please.

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Doth she but frown, Hell, nor Æternal Night
In their worst shapes could scarce so much affright
The trembling Lover; for her wrinkled brow
More terrible than doth Avernus show.
'Tis not her power he fears: But yet he can
Not disobey; Love's a Magician.
If by his power men dare to undertake
The hardest things, and nothing of them make,
If for their Loves their Lives they'l venture, and
Be proud to spill their blood at their Command;
Dye if they bid them, if such Love can cause
So great obedience to his giddy Lawes:
If by his hidden, and abstrucer Art,
Knowledge he doth to ignorants impart,
Make Clowns prove Eloquent, nay Poets too:
If thus, and much more this blind-God can do,
What shall that Love do, unto which this seems
As the worst Pibbles to the best of Gemms?
That Love divine whose fires immortal be?
Whose constant Pleasures never changes see?
That Love immense which filleth to the brim
Capacious Souls? where may whole Oceans swim
Of Joyes divine, unutterable? then
Shall not this draw Obedience from Men?
Shall not this sweeten whatsoe'r may seem
Bitter? make easie what is hard to them?
Fear can do much, but Love much more can do:
Fear false obedience gives: Love just and true.
Heav'n's Pilgrim now with these diviner flames
Possess'd, h'alone to please Sophia aimes;
Love regulates him, now 'tis not for fear,
That he to her such reverence doth bear:
From Love 'tis his Obedience springs, and that
The slavish fears of Hell doth terminate.
Now all things easie are; no Seas can stop,
Nor Mountains: those he swims, and these climbs up.
Now in his breast a strong attraction he
Feels draw'ng him up to Heav'n continually.
Now constant ardors burn within his Breast,
And flames of Love give rest in his unrest:

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He feels most blest Enthean heats surprize
His soul, which make 't a living sacrifice.
A pleasing Tincture th'row his Body flows,
And like a Flower in Paradise he grows.
All sorrows now are banish'd down to Hell;
He nothing doth but Joyes, and Raptures feel.
The Seraphims indite some sacred Song,
Which they decant by his Hymniferous Tongue;
And modulating too those heavenly Layes
His Harp, an Angel by his Fingets playes.
Under the Covert of the Angels Wings,
By Love inspir'd, aloud this Song he sings.

Go Gnedian Idols spend your darts,
On all Luxurious, pruriant Hearts!
A nobler shaft has pierced mine,
Which flames with Fires more divine.
You may now shoot but shoot in vain
Such shafts my Heart shoots back again.
My eyes your Venom cann't receive,
Heav'n's Queen a Remedy did give.
Her Beauty dwelleth in my eyes,
I therefore you, and yours despise.
Fair Ladies all your Beauties spare,
For in my eyes they sullied are,
I Styx see in a Hellens Face
Now I have seen a Deitesse.
You Cyprian Lovers now no more
Your beautious Images adore!
Cease now your fond Idolatry,
Speak no more Lovers blasphemy:
Fling in the Fire your wanton Layes,
Which blushes in chast Cheeks do raise:
Cease your Encomiums, your blisse
Meer mortal dust, and ashes is:
A wrinckled Baucis all the while
The glory wears of your high Style:
Let fairer Souls a Godesse please,
Whilst Bacca's joyn with Thyrsites.
Had you but seen my heav'nly Bride,
Youl'd count all beauties dung beside,

191

And cease to idolize a Face
Where white, and red's the chiefest Grace.
But my blest Bride SOPHIA, is
Both Queen of Beauty and of Blisse.

Her Face shines clearer than the Sun,
In his bright Chariot at Noon.
Her Crystalline eyes are the glass,
In which themselves the Angels dress:
The Beams that cometh from her eyes
Give Light to Heav'n, and Paradise.
Her eares the Seats of Judgements are,
Immortal Fortitude her hair;
Her Brows of highest Majesty:
High Wisdom in her mouth doth lye.
'Tis by her words the Angels Live,
Her Breath doth Life immortal give:
The beaming glory in her cheeks,
With splendor Heav'ns high Pallace strikes.
A Diadem her brows do tye
Of Blisse and Immortality.
Her sacred breasts the Fountains be
Of Joy, and true Felicity;
Ambrosia doth thence proceed
The Heav'ly Manna, Angels bread;
Water of Life blest Nectar streams
Thence, clearer than the Crystal gemms,
In which as thorow Heaven it slips
The Angels drench their Rosie Lips.
Her armes, the Angels do enfold;
Her Hands immortal Blessings hold:
Upon her knees doth Pity sit,
And Goodnesse cloaths her Legs, and Feet.
Her Garments are of Light divine,
Which brighter than the Sun do shine:
The blew, and starry Carpet's spread
For her blest Feet upon to tread,
Whose blessed touches purifie
The Body of the Crystal Sky.
Such is my Bride, and now who dare
With my Bride's beauty theirs compare?

190

Sacred SOPHIA! 'tis in thee
I place all my Felicity:
Blest with thy sight; all things below
Do very much deformed show.
I cast my eyes to thee above:
Ah I am even sick of Love!
Comfort me with thy fruit divine!
Stay me with Flagons of thy Wine!
Ah let me banquet now with thee,
And spread thy Banners over me!
Thou art the Rose of Sharon, thou
A Lily in the Vale doth grow;
Thou art more fair than is the Sun;
Thy Garments smel of Lebanon.
My eyes unto thy Face I move:
Ah I am overcome with Love!
That Fire of Love which flows about
My heart, whole Seas cannot put out.
Not the black fear of dreadful Hell,
To be obedient doth compel:
Nor now those torments to eschew
Enforces me to follow you,
It is from thee, and not from thence,
That springeth my obedience.
'Tis Love of thee, not Fear of Hell,
Which me to serve thee doth compel.
'Tis not Heav'ns blessed Joys that move,
Or do intice me to this Love;
It is not Heav'ns high Crown, that draws,
'Tis Love alone a stronger cause.
Not Heav'ns high Blessings I regard,
I Love thee not for a Reward;
Fling me to Hel, and if you will,
Yet will I Love SOPHIA stil.
These flames which kindle in my breast
Shall never out until I rest
Within thy bosom, and there be
Enclosed to Æternity.

Thus chaunts SOPHIA'S Lover; whilst his tongue
Is warbling forth this Love-inspired Song,

192

Love agitates with flames his noble breast,
And spreadeth there a most delicious feast:
The Crystal Water turns to blushing Wine:
There banquets PSYCHE, and her Love divine:
Their meat is Manna, their Wine Nectar is,
Their Banquets Love, and everlasting Blisse,
Hell never 'frighted him so fast to Heaven,
Nor ever had Heav'n such attractions given,
As Love gives now; he every day a year
Supposes till he doth inhabit where
His blest SOPHIA is: Nothing can move
Him backward now, be'ing drawn by force of Love.
Forwards he runs, and to his Love he pray'th,
That she would make a tryal of his Faith:
All difficulties past account he does
As nothing, and as things meer frivolous,
Not to be counted hard, so high's his Zeal,
His Faith he longs with his Heart-blood to seal.
And now he thinks he Atlas could remove,
And nothing 'counts impossible with LOVE.
Sathan indeed this noble Champion
In these Love-furies dares not set upon,
He stands aloof; The Pilgrim hasts apace
To gain the end of this Heav'n-winning Race.
He be'ing Heav'n's Favourite, and that he may
Be even lost, and swallow'd in a Sea
Of divine Pleasures, and excessive Blisse,
APOCALYPSIS she Commission'd is
To ope his Sences with her Crystal Key,
That he aforehand may in Heaven be:
By her assistance she perform'd it straight,
And op'd his inner sences five-fold gate.
No sooner had APOCALYPSIS bright
Fingers unlock'd the Gates of 's inner sight,
But he th' internal World beholds, and there
Myriads of Angels in their proper Sphear:
The Light World sees: whose chiefest rarities
Display themselves before his inner eyes.
Tempean pleasures court his eyes; the Blisse
Of Edenean gardens present is.

193

All Paradise, and whatsoever there
Grow'th, doth before his inner sight appear.
The Angels in their glorious Robes of Light,
Compass'd with splendant Rayes appear in sight,
And things in Heav'n unutterable, he
In highest pleasure, and content doth see.
The thick gate of his inner ear unbarr'd
No sooner was but he the voyces heard
Of the Angelical Core, whose sweeter Layes
From dunghill Earth, to Heav'n his Soul doth raise.
Th' harmonious sound of Harps his ears doth fill,
Proceeding from the blest Sionian Hill,
Which doth his soul with such sweet pleasure smite,
That she is overwhelm'd with the delight.
Earth's duller Musick, or that of the Sphears,
To this would be discordant in his ears:
If they mens souls chear with their melody,
How more exceeding shall Heav'ns Harmony!
Th' inner Æthmoides being open'd wide,
Whole clouds of Musk strait th'rough the passage slide,
Paradysaical Odors; the Perfumes,
Which from the Body of our Saviour comes,
Presse in: sweet Amber-greece; perfuming Myrrh
Which fills the inner World doth enter there.
Pinks, Violets, Roses are lesse odorate
Than these sweet Odors which assault the Gate.
The Gust unlock'd; the dews of Sion Hill,
And Paradise upon his Tongue distil.
The Heav'nly Manna, the Cœlestial Cates
Of Blisse, more sweet than Honey fare he eats.
Nectar glides th'rough his Lips, where more sweets reign,
Than the Hymetian Honey-dews contain.
Haphe unlock'd, the heav'nly touch of Love.
Like gentle fire over his heart doth move:
Th' Anoynted's Hand which doth distempers heal,
Upon him lay'd, he sensibly doth feel.
The Tincture which doth from Christ's Body flow,
With great delight he feels on his to grow:
Thus he in his five sences ravish'd is:
He sees, hears, smells, tasteth, and toucheth Blisse.

194

Ravish'd with the excesse of his delight,
In Seas of pleasures he's immerged quite,
His soul drinks in the sweets; too much upon
These Cates, feeds his Imagination.
But whilst he banquets at his fuller feast,
His Angel to him from the Heavens preit.
Taking Sophia's servant by the Hand
His mind by these he let him understand.
Blest Pilgrim, and Sophia's servant, thou
Must not rest here, but farther still must go:
These are but streams, and Rivulets of Blisse,
Sophia she the only Fountain is.
Here thou mayst bath thy self, but canst not swim
Untill thou comest to the Fountains brim:
There are vast Oceans, there thou mayst remain,
These are but easements for your griefs, and pain:
These are but objects at a distance, these
Are but refreshments, and to give you ease,
To make thy Way the sweeter, till thou art
Hid in the Closet of Sophia's Heart.
Take not thou then too much complacency
In these, which only but the Conducts be
To greater happinesse; and do but shew
The tythe of Blisse, which thou art going to.
Presse on therefore; 'count every thing but pelf
To the enjoyment of Sophia's self.
Rous'd by his Angel thus, the Pilgrim hies,
And t'wards the perfect mark he faster flies.
But far he had not gone before he meets
An adversary, who upon him sets,
VERTUMNUS 'twas, lesse constant than the Wind,
In every shape seeks to disturb the mind.
A slye Ulysses, cunning to deceive,
Leading to error if you him believe.
His cloathes were of all sorts of Feathers made;
With Windinesse, and swiftnesse under-laid.
About his wast hung certain Looking-glasses
Which represented strange disguised faces,
Upon his left arm certain Pictures hung:
In which those things, which to the World belong

195

Were pictured, there Beauty was display'd
There Castles, Forts, Rivers, and Seas were made:
There Cities, Towns, Countreys, Villages,
Wars, Battails, Peace, and such like things as these:
What e'r Imagination's Pencil cou'd
Expresse, in lively figures there were shew'd.
On his right arm Cœlestial Pictures hung,
And whatsomever did to Heav'n belong
There pourtray'd was: There Angels, Seraphims,
There Thrones, there Saints, and fiery Cherubims;
There Paradise, there Light, Stars, Suns were seen,
And all Cœlestial Forms, and Bodies drawn.
Accouter'd thus, he meets our Pilgrim, and
To stop his passage stretch'd out his left hand;
This fight was not like to his other foes,
No valour this, but shifts, and cunning knows:
He is no Champion but o'recomes by guile,
And e'r his foe thinks on him gives the foil.
Like to the wicked Pontic Bithiæ, that
Children, and Beasts with their looks facinate,
He doth bewitch; skil'd in Cyrcean arts,
From every Picture he his charmes imparts:
And whilst they strangely draw our Pilgrim's eyes,
He in the mean time makes of him a prize.
Our Pilgrim meeting this fine fellow, thought
The Weaponlesse could have no mischief wrought.
He takes great pleasure to behold the charmes
Which dangling hung at both his feather'd armes;
Those Pictures yield content, his wandering mind
Treads in those Mazes, and no end can find:
Thus he delayes his Journey, and this let,
His hasty Voyage maketh him forget.
But his good Angel putting him in mind
Of 's Journey, bid him this Deceiver bind;
For that he was a Foe, and sought to keep
Him back, by causing him awake, to sleep.
On him he set, but a hard task he found:
This Proteus would not be so quickly bound;
Stoutly they wrestle; but if on his armes
He cast his eyes, he's taken with those charmes:

196

He varies shapes, and do he what he can,
No sooner bound but he is loos'd agen.
A Champion who hath often won the field,
By Custom knows not how, at last to yield:
Each Conquest adds new Life, and courage to
His animated Soul; and makes him do
More than can be hop'd for: Our Pilgrim so
Oft Victor, now will not faint-hearted grow.
Here Faith assists him; and Perseverance
Upon his Foes arms doth Ir'n chaines advance.
At last they bind his left arm, when his right
He stretched out before the Pilgrim's sight:
Those heav'nly Pictures now he dotes upon,
And brave Chimera's in his thoughts do run:
They're all Cœlestial, cryes he, who can chuse?
But on such heav'nly Subjects alwayes muse?
These are but shadows, sayes his Angel, thou
Unto the very substance must presse to:
And therefore first of all thou must o'recome
Lab'rynthæan IMAGINATION:
The Pilgrim seeing that he stop'd his Way,
And longing still SOPHIA to enjoy,
After much strugling, flung him on the ground,
And with Perseverances chaines him bound.
This Adversary being cast, he bent
His course to Paradise, and forward went.
Not far from thence his hasty steps did move
Under the shadow of a silent Grove:
The place was sacred to a Deity,
Who with still silence would adored be.
No babling Echo in that Grove did dwell:
No whistling Blackbird, no sweet Nightingal,
No Bird at all came near those sacred boughs;
The grasse, nor bleating Sheep, nor mowing Cows
Did feed; no living Creature did that blest
Place enter, to disturb its quiet rest.
No pibble, chiding-Brook ran murmering there,
No Wind to move those silent Leaves did dare:
About the middle of this silent place,
Pitch'd on a mossie Hill a Couch there was;

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To this the Pilgrim went, and gently hurl'd
Himself on it; As if another World
He enter'd had, he found himself; a rest
Seiz'd on his working mind; both bad, and best
Thoughts banish'd were; disturbing fancy, or
Imagination did not there discur.
Asleep he was not, nor yet did he dream:
Alive he was, but yet he dead did seem.
His mind work'd not on this, nor that: but he
Rap'd was into a heav'nly Lethargy.
This is the Silent passive state in which
God with his Finger Souls doth often touch:
This is the sleep of Jacob, this the Trance
Of Paul, when he did to the Heav'ns advance:
This is the state, in which the Soul's blest tye
Sees God (beyond Thoughts) Intellectually.
This is the state in which SOPHIA will
Souls (emptied thus) with her blest Spirit fill.
Then is the Soul made fit for to receive
Those Bounties, which Heav'ns blessed Hand doth give.
For whilst thoughts do her empty vessels fill,
Receive she cann't Heav'ns higher Bounties well.
A Cup fill'd to the brim can hold no more:
Nor stomachs meat desire, if full before.
Then is the Soul fit to be wrought upon,
And to receive Heav'ns seal's impression.
What in this state she doth or hear, or see,
Must needs be true; she cann't deceived be.
Unutterable were those Sweets, which here
Our Pilgrim felt; before his eyes appear
The Beauties of the inner Worlds, and on
His Soul divine irradiation
Is pour'd: and now his soul with Constant eye
Beholds true glances of Æternity.
Pens are too weak for to expresse the Blisse
Which in this silent state enjoyed is.
Thunders, and Whirlwinds are not Heav'ns choyce;
He softly whispers in a silent Voyce.
The Souls eares then are eyes; what Heav'n then shows
The Soul both hears, sees, feels, and truly knows.

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Deep is the sight when that no thoughts controul,
For Heav'n then gives eyes to the passive Soul,
Past reach of Reason then she flyes, and there
With a new Light sees demonstration clear.
But on our Pilgrim passes, and (to ease
Himself) oft rests in such blest Groves as these,
Which thick stood in the Way, there quiet rest
From working thoughts his passive Soul possest.
And now unto this World he bids adiew,
The inner World appeareth in his view.
No new relations he receives, who from
Spiritual tyes, and Heav'ns kind hand doth come.
Those who do travel in the Way with him,
By Heav'ns Venter are his Bretheren.
And Sisters, tyed by a neerer Bond
Than ever Earth, or Nature yet had don'd.
They are his Brothers, be they rich or poor,
Who in their Hearts his Father's Image bear.
Those are his Fathers, and his Mothers that
Into Regeneration begot
His Soul: Nature's Children do ne'r to their
Parents, the Love which Heav'ns to theirs do bear.
Though he Loves all, yet there's degrees in Love,
Some are more near, and some do farther move:
As in the building of an House you see,
Some stones do touch, while others farther be:
Some are more near, some keep a distance, yet
All to the Structure are exceeding fit.
So Spirits joyned are, in that divine
And heavn'ly building they do thus Combine.
Some they are nearer knit than others, thus
John unto Christ the most beloved was.
Here Spirits signatur'd alike conjoyn,
And in a mystic union combine:
Here Spirits be espous'd, and here they see
That they meet helps unto each other be,
Some cann't receive from every vessel though
Their thirsty souls drink what from others flow.
One gives, another he receives, and he
Gives to another, here's the harmony.

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Saints thus combin'd, are like a Tower, that
Unshaken stands against the Devils shot:
He fears such unions, therefore all his Art,
And cunning, he still uses, them to thwart.
O blessed union! whom God thus doth joyn,
Let no man venture for to discombine.
This doth produce a Love implete with Blisse,
Which far above natural affection is.
No Man but he that has't the Virtue knows
Of this Love which from pure union flows.
Words cann't exprest, that heart which feels it doth
Know certainly that here I speak a Truth.
The highest love of Friendship, which doth shine
So bright's the Image of this Love divine:
The Stars alone that doth concatinate,
Nature, and Grace bind fast this firmer state.
He who this Love possesses would rejoyce
(And with great joy 'count it an happy choyce)
To dye, and suffer torments for his Brother,
And loose his blood with joy to free another.
In this state two are one: one cannot smart
Feel, but it thrilleth th'rough the other's heart.
One cann't be sad, but by a Sympathie
The other's sinking Soul doth almost dye.
Joy never bloometh in the Face of one,
But gladnesse in the other's eyes doth shine.
Although Seas, and a thousand Leagues do part
Their Bodies, yet by sympathetic Art
Their Spirits meet, and kisse, and do declare
At the same moment, how each other fare,
In the black lines, writ by each others hand,
A flowing Fire of constant Love thy find;
No sooner can their eyes be plac'd on them,
But th'rough them to their hearts, a flaming stream
Of sweetest Fire runs: and every Line
Unto that Fire, doth new fewel joyn.
O blessed Love which from true Union flows!
Thy sweetnesse none, but those that tast thee knows!
Base Earthly Lust, and wanton Love's alloy
Is all but drosse: and counterfeited joy.

200

Is mix'd with them, hut here true sweetnesse is
True Joy, and an unutterable Blisse.
Our Pilgrim tasted this felicity,
Whereby he found all earthly Harmony
Below this sweetnesse. Sweets Affection
But far more sweet is heav'nly Union.
In Bodies joyning is Earth's Lovers blisse:
In Souls uniting Heav'ns true Lovers is.
Most justly did the Holy Spirit Call
The Serpent the most subtle Beast of all:
And though in subtilty he doth excel,
His envy runneth with it parallel:
This sets abroach that; this desires the ill;
That's the Instrument for to perform it still:
And where he cann't do what he would to Man,
He'l shew his Teeth, and do what e'r he can.
Think you our Pilgrim, though so far he be
Gon, past the reach of his fell Subtilty?
No Hell must shew his envy still, and to
The very last try what his power can do.
When he had try'd all Stratagems in vain,
The Pilgrim's union with the Saints to strain,
To burst that League, which breaks the Leagues of Hell,
And their united Forces oft repel:
To spoil that mariage of Spirits, from
Whose happy juncture sacred Powers do come,
Which overthrow those Legions of the
Great Prince of Hell, and all Impiety:
To break that true-Loves Knot, which only can
Bind fast the hands of this fierce foe to Man.
When he in vain to hinder this had try'd,
And saw our Pilgrim by an happy Guide
Had it attain'd; he seeks some other Way
In midst of all his Sweets him to betray.
His envious eye beholds the Pilgrim's Soul
Oft to carouse it in Loves sacred Boul,
Where she whole streams of Nectar gulped down,
Sweeter than Honey, or the Honey-Comb.
Down to his Stygian Kingdom goes the Foe,
And there assembles all his Cooks below;

201

Makes them to cull the fairest Fruit the Tree
Of ills doth bear: First then Complacency,
Then Covetousnesse, then Pride, then Selfishnesse,
Envy, and Jealousie, and such as these
He takes: and by a cunning Chymistry
Draws out their blacknesse, and deformity;
Extracts their bitternesse, and makes them fair,
Refin'd like Crystal, and as pure as ayr;
But yet the poyson still was left behind,
Which stronger grew the more they were refin'd;
From these a juice he drew, most fair, and clear,
And up he mounteth to the Pilgrim's Sphear.
Sculking behind a cloud this Serpent lay,
And for an opportunity did stay
To poyson him: And VIGILANTIA did
No sooner turn her back, and step aside,
But to the Boul he stept (for she alasse!
The noble Pilgrim's chief Pincerna was)
And in he pour'd that Hellish juyce; among
Heav'ns blest Nectar mixing that poyson strong.
Th' unawary Pilgrim by and by the Cup
Takes, and in 's Nectar drinks Hell's poyson up.
Anon the several poysons 'gin to work;
Whilst Sathan laughing in his sleeve, doth lurk
Unseen, to see the sport: Oh! how he smil'd
At the conceit of Man's being thus beguil'd.
The Pilgrim did not feel that he was ill.
Or that Hel's poyson did his Nectar spill:
But now it 'gan to work, he did not cast
His eyes unto the Fountain but embrac'd
Too much the streams: Too much Complacency
He took, in the fruition of those high
Gifts of the Spirit; too much dotes upon
Visions, Voyces, Spirits union,
He fears to lose them, and cannot resign
To Heav'n his Nectar, or his gifts divine.
Now to himself all Spirits he'd engrosse,
He Covets gifts, and 'counts no greater crosse
Than for to lose them; thus doth Covetousnesse
Spring in his Soul in its refined dresse.

202

Pride started up, and though spiritualiz'd,
A curious cloathing for his Soul devis'd,
Wherein he prides himself; he's not content
Except that others know he's eminent
In all the Gifts and graces of the Spirit;
He loves to be sought after for his merit:
Cloath'd with Heav'ns Pride of gifts, and graces, he
Aspires, and would accounted something be.
Next Selfishnesse did operate, and that
Self-Int'rest, and Propriety begat
In Spirits, Gifts, and Graces: This doth seem
For to belong to him, and none but him.
Then Envy work'd, and he is not content
To see another be more eminent
In Visions, Raptures, or the like; or that
Others enjoy them, and he go without.
Then Jealousie spread thorow every vein,
Its virulent poyson fuming in his Brain;
He every one suspects, and jealous is
Lest others rob him of what he Calls his.
He fears to lose a Spirit; that another
His gifts or Graces shining Light should smother:
He jealous is lost his Lights be out-shon,
Or that another's should eclipse his own.
This Hell's refining poyson spreading through
His Breast, e'r he aware was brought him to:
And thus the noble Stone was almost spoil'd,
When for't the Pilgrim had long stoutly toyl'd,
That eye whose Rayes pierce the Earth's Centre, and
Sees to the bottom of the Stygian strand:
Which spite of Night; and Hell's calliginous
Mantle, beholds what ever Satan does:
That Eye which every secret thought betrays,
And to its self, hid actions open layes,
That Eye behel'd the spight of Hell, and saw
Upon the Pilgrim's heart his poyson gnaw.
Nothing so soon as th' objects of the eye,
Pity attracts for others misery:
The ear so soon doth not affect the Heart
With generous pity as the Optic part:

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He that's all Eye, and every thing doth see,
Can he w'hout pity view man's misery?
No, he's all pity, and his Bowels roul
At every pang of an afflicted Soul.
Poyson i'th' Pilgrim's Breast no sooner flows,
But he his pity, and his mercy shows.
His Angel-guardian is Commission'd strait
To shew to him, the Stygian Prince's hate:
And 'gainst that poyson which so strongly wrought
In's breast, to offer him an Antidote.
Glad of the message, down the Angel flies,
Whilst sparkling Joy beam'd from his sacred eyes;
Glad to do service to Heav'ns Servitour,
He shews himself clad with refulgent ayr.
In 's hand he brought a Crystal Glasse which fill'd
Was with pure Light, from Heav'ns Alimbeck still'd:
This he unto the Pilgrim gave, and bid
Him drink it up; The which he strait wayes did.
No sooner had he gulp'd it down, but he
Beheld his Error, and Hell's treachery:
He saw the infestous poyson, though 'twas clear,
By this draught now his eyes far purer are,
And can behold all its impurities,
Which had caus'd all irregularities.
This draught the Vail pull'd off, and he espies,
Where Hell's strong poyson in Heav'ns Nectar lies,
So had he seen a noxious Serpent dwell
I'th' green grasse, and Toads in a Crystal Well.
Startl'd at this sight: seal my eyes again
He cryes, or else from me this poyson drain.
'Tis better I were blind, and could not see,
Then to behold an helplesse misery.
It is a double pain hard haps to bear,
And seeing them remedilesse to fear:
An unseen harm lesse dread doth cause? I pray
Or take my eyes or this foul Ill away.
It is thy self, the Angel doth reply.
That to thy self must give the remedy:
There is a pill will do't: I'le shew it thee,
If thou wilt take it freely follow me.

204

The willing Pilgrim soon consents, they go
Strait forward without turning in Heav'ns Way.
Now far they had not gone, e'r they came to
A pleasant Green, whose lustrous verdant hew
Cheered the Pilgrim's Sp'rite; and in the midst
Thereof, he saw, a flaming Altar plac'd:
And coming nearer fairly wrote upon
The sides he saw TRUE RESIGNATION:
'Twas to this Altar that blest Abraham
(The Angel said) to offer Isaac came,
And here it is, and in these flames divine,
And on this Altar thou must offer thine:
Here what somever thou dost dearly prize,
To Heav'n must prove a pleasing sacrifice.
'Tis true, thou didst pleasures, and sins once bring
Unto the Fire: A fairer offering
Now must th' Oblation be: As Earth by you
Was offer'd up; so offer Heav'n too.
Not only Earth's, but Heav'ns fair gifts divine,
Thou on this Altar, must to God resign.
Amongst those Flames (which were Aetherial)
The Angel put his hand, and cull'd a coal;
A Carbuncle set in a Ring of Gold
Glow'd as the Coal between his fingers hold.
Lo here a Pill (sayes he) that doth contain
An Antidote, against that deadly Bain
Thou hast drunk down: in this one Pill there are
The Lemnian Earth, and precious Bezoar,
Treacle, and Metridate lock'd up: This pure
Pill will effect not an Acesian Cure:
Not all the drugs of Aesculapius
Or Galen can do half so much as this.
The joyful Pilgrim takes the flaming Pill;
Which from his mouth down to his heart did thrill;
No sooner was it in his Breast, but straight
He Hel's foul poyson did Evacuate.
That glowing Pill fir'd from his heart's fast hold,
And utterly destroy'd Hel's bainful Cold.
Thus by the Heav'nly Therapeutick, he
Receives by Heat for cold a Remedy.

205

Now baffel'd Sathan, with an hideous roar
To Hell flyes vex'd, more than he joy'd before.
Shall Servants grumble to repay their Lord
His own? or not be willing to afford
Him back, what he lends them? Shall Stewards grieve,
When their Lords at their hands their own receive?
Why then doth man so often shrug, and pine,
When God bids him his lendings to resign?
A carefull Father that hath sent unto
His Son some sums honestly to employ.
Is it not requisite he should be still
Exactly subject to his Fathers Will?
And that the money back be paid again
With willingnesse if he require the same?
Or should not that Depositum still be
At his dispose without an injury?
Now if the Father should behold his Son
Squander his Coyn, in evil courses run:
Lose his Estate in Games! or be unfit
To mannage (for which end he gave him) it;
Doth he do wrong unto his Child, if then
He summons back his ill-us'd Love agen?
Then grumble not O Man! if Heaven shall
What he has lent (if thou abuse't) recall.
Thou nothing hast; why mak'st thou then such moan
When God doth call for nothing but his own?
Is it not better that thou willingly
Thy self, and thine to Heav'ns high Will should'st tye?
When that thou know'st none contradict it can?
Yet such the frowardnesse of wilfull Man
Is, that although he knows God's Will be done
Must, yet will he contrary to it run:
Such is his stubbornnesse; and thus he'l shew't,
To contradict God had he power to do't.
God will his Will effect: This pleases Heav'n
Though, that Man's will should with his Will be even:
That our wills should will nothing, but what he
Would have: That his Command ours subject be.
His Will is the Day-star, the fairest Guide,
Who follows it can never turn aside.

206

That sanctified Pill of glowing fire
Which did unto our Pilgrim's breast retire,
Purg'd forth Hell's venom, and what ever might
Unto Heav'ns sacred Will prove opposite.
He now is willing, what e'r he doth prize,
To God in those bright flames to sacrifice.
His cloaths put off; and naked, (only clad
With true subjection to the will of God,
His Priestly Ephod) he gives to the flame
What ever Heaven had freely given him.
Those lustrous flames he with Ambrosia fed,
And all his Manna on the Altar spread:
His Oyl, and Honey in the fire fryes,
And his choyce Nectar proves a Sacrifice.
Ah there he parts with all Heavn'ns gifts divine,
And them again doth unto Heav'n resign.
Visions, and Raptures in the flames he flings,
His unions, and all those bubbling springs
Of choysest Wine, his holy Gifts, his Powers,
And Rapting Heats upon the flames he showers.
His dainty Hymns, and Soul-bewrapting layes,
And Heav'n and all, he to those flames betrayes.
He doth himself of all his pride disrobe,
Leaving himself as poor as naked Job;
His Heart, and Will at last he there bequeaths
And all his Riches to those flames he gives;
And now having nothing left, with a profound
Submission, his Lips do kisse the ground,
While the sweet Fumes of this blest Libament
Are from the Altar to Heav'ns nosethrils sent.
Abel's sweet offerings ne'r more pleasing were
To God, than these our Pilgrim offer'd here.
Nor did to Heav'n a sweeter favour spring
From the burnt flesh of Noah's offering.
Nor Abraham's Ram was more accepted; nor
Smelt sweeter Aron's Frankinsence, and Myrrh.
The spotlesse Lamb the offering for Peace
Was not a gentler offering than these:
Nor th' Oyl, and Meal the offering of meat:
Nor Salomon's whole Hecatombs more great.

207

Nor did all Aaron's offerings but shew
What Christ for us did; and what we must do.
Heav'n did not Aaron's offerings prefer
To what our Pilgrim freely offer'd here:
Nor was he more a Priest than he, who had
All sacrificed to the Living God.
Christ was a Prophet, Priest, and King: so we
By him made Prophets, Priests, and Kings shall be.
Our Pilgrim having offer'd all: upon
The sounding Altar of his warbling Tongue,
At last he offers Heav'n this precious Song,
Whose Ayres like Mirrh, and Incense smelled strong:
His Heart flew with his words: with open Eares
Heav'n, from such Tones the speaking Musick hears.

Whole Hecatombs of sins have I
upon thine Altar lay'd
Sin, Flesh, the World by me did dye,
By me their Death they had.

I sacrific'd them all to thee
O King of Kings! O God!
Their savour to thy Throne did flye,
And to thy blest abode.

I am a Priest become, for thou
Hast made me one, and I
My Mitre to thy Throne do bow,
And to thy Majesty.

Here in true Resignation
I offer unto thee:
My Ephod's true subjection,
My Girdle Purity.

Upon that Altar I have lay'd
All that I have, and now
I have my self quite naked made,
Unto thy Throne I bow.

208

Those rich Attires which thine own hand
Had decked me withall,
I have pull'd off at thy Command,
And burnt them at thy Call.

More dear than my best Blood they were,
Yet without grudg I give
Them all into this blessed Fire,
That I might naked live.

My self I truly now resign,
My Will is not mine own;
My Heart, my works, my words are thine,
Self now is fled, and gone.

Accept my Sacrifice O Lord!
But I can nothing Crave,
My Will is thine, my Word, thy VVord,
I truly nothing have.

I passive am, my Will is slain
Under thine Altar, I
In true subjection do remain,
And dying daily dye

Deny me Heav'n, if it please thee
I cannot now repine;
For I subject now unto thee,
My Will is throughly thine.

Confine me to the deepest Hell,
Enchain me there for aye,
If it please thee I'le think it well,
And willingly will stay.

Whilst on the Earth I dwell if thou
All miseries dost give,
I gently under them will bow;
Contentedly will live.

209

And if thou strik'st me blind or lame,
Or deaf, or dumb, yet still,
So long as from thy hand it came
I entertain it will.

Let all the World with scoffs deride
Me, blast my better Name:
Or set me up with prayses pride,
I still will be the same.

Command me what thou wilt, I am
now ready to obey,
Nor Reputation, or shame,
When thou bidst go shall stay.

And if thou bid'st I'le cut my hair,
I will the mad-man play,
My hinder parts I will make bare;
What e'r thou bid'st obay.

I th'rough the World will naked go.
And th'rough the Flames I'le run;
If thou command'st it shall be so,
Thy Will it shall be done.

If thou command'st me to the Rack,
I there will passive be,
And when my very heart-strings crack,
With Joy I'le yield to thee.

If thou Commandest me to speak,
I boldly then will do't,
Nor fear of Death shall silent make,
Nor cause me to be mute.

In harder things than these, I Can
Subject unto thy Will,
For now my own is th'roughly slain,
I ready, thine fulfill.

110

For now I can remain Content
Without that glorious Blisse,
Which once thy goodnesse to me sent,
Since that thy Will it is.

Those Visions, Raptures, Prophesies,
Those Gifts, and Graces all,
Those Hymns, those Ardors, Harmonies
Can render at thy Call.

All Unions with Spirits, I
Without can gladly go:
Can be content Continually
Not that sweet Blisse to Know.

I without Envy now can see
Thy Gifts, and Graces given
To others: and content to be
In Hell, whilst they'r in Heav'n.

I am not Jealous, nor do doubt
That others will rob me:
I am Content to be without,
Whilst others filled be.

I am Content that others live
In all thy Gifts divine:
Whilst I my self am in the Grave,
And to thy Will resign.

Do what thou pleasest Lord with me,
For I am truly slain:
I being subject unto thee,
At thy dispose remain.

This is the state which Reason's foolish Schooles
Do nominate the Paradise of Fools,
Because their high adored Deity
Reason, 's cast down, and on the Earth must lye.

111

When the holy Ark enters the Temple, then
Dagon must fall, and break his Neck; so when
Wisdom divine its Beauties doth display
Upon our Souls, Reason much pack away:
That is too shallow, for to Comprehend
Those things which WISDOM'S Wisdom doth Command;
It's a false Judge, and cannot truly see
Beyond the dark Clouds of Mortality.
The first degree in Wisdom's sacred School,
Is to be Wise, by first becoming Fool:
Fool to the Earthly Reason, in Divine
Wisdom, a Wise man by subjection shine.
Mistake me not; I'l not have you put out
The Souls bright Eye, and so become a Bruit:
I'ld not have Reason banished from Men;
Meer Animals indeed they would be then;
But that our Reason passe not those Bounds given
To terminate it, by the Hand of Heaven.
But that our Reason should its weaknesse own.
Confesse that Heav'ns Arcana's are unknown
To her; That her weak eyes cann't gaze upon
The glorious splendor of bright Wisdom's Sun;
And not to dare with a proud scrutiny
To search Heav'ns secrets with her pur-blind eye.
Our eyes are Lights unto our steps: but shoot
Their Balls against the Sun, he'l put them out:
Reason's our Guide below; but when she flees
'Gainst Wisdom's Sun she loseth both her eyes.

Reason's illuminate, and soar's on high
When Wisdom lendeth unto her an eye:
Then, her eye passeth to the highest Sphear,
Searcheth the deeps, and seeth Wonders there:
But before Reason can this eye attain,
She must acknowledge that her own are vain.

This Lesson now Heav'ns Pilgrim learn'd, and He
Subjects his Reason to Divinity.
He knows he must be born anew, and then
He knows he must become a Child agen.
With such Heav'ns Kingdom is implete: you know
Children are Innocent, and harmlesse too.

212

They'r pretty Lambs, poor Tenderlings, their eyes
The seats of Innocence, of Smiles the prize.
They have no wills; you may do what you list
To them: they are not able to resist.
But if you hurt them the defence you have,
Their Tongues are, which with cryes for pity crave.
Set them down here they cannot stir, or go
Till you remove them; they no evil know.
The Devil cannot hurt them: they defie
With pretty Innocence, his subtilty.
They know no guile, they know no evil, nor
Sin. They made fit for Heav'ns Mansions are.
The foes to such who gain the Child-like state,
Christ hath already read their woful fate:
Those who offend such Babes had better be,
Clog'd with a Milstone, cast into the Sea.
They are his Care, his tender Lambs, who these
Offend, do highly Christ himself displease.
Our true-resign'd, and child-like Pilgrim now,
His, to Jehovah's highest will doth bow:
But whilst he at his Altar prostrate lyes,
His Angel speaking thus, Commands him rise.

Arise thrice happy Pilgrim! Let us still
Proceed, for that (I'm sure) is Heav'ns Will:
Thou almost fitted art, for to behold
Those glories, which by Tongues cannot be told.
Thrice bow'd the Pilgrim, not to him, but God:
And on they went in Heav'ns illustrious Road.

But by, and by, two flying Coursers brought
Thither, at th' Angels beck a Chariot:
Into 't they went; no sooner seated they
Were, but th'row th' Ayr the Coursers Wings make way:
Earth's left behind, and now they launched are
Into the calm Sea of the gentle Ayr.
The Angels Pilot, guide, and Charoteer,
Who upward drives, and from the Earth doth steer.
A place there is not view'd by mortal eyes,
Which 'twixt four Worlds just in the middle lyes:
Thither the Angel took his Course, and on
A rising Hill, to Land his Chariot came.

213

A lighting there, they mount unto the top,
Where was an antique Crosse erected up.
After the Pilgrim round had view'd the place,
And with his eyes su'd to know where he was,
The Angel then his long-kept silence brake,
And this unto the holy Pilgrim spake.

This Hill on which thou stand'st doth lye between
The four great Worlds; from hence all may be seen:
Cast down thine eye, that which thou seest below,
Is th' outward World, from which we came but now:
Where yon' dark mist is, upon thy left Hand,
The Devils dark internal World doth stand:
Where yon bright Light on thy right hand doth shine,
Is the Light World, or Paradise divine:
Over thy head from whence that glory springs,
The Mansion is of the great King of Kings.
Th' Æternal World: and thither 'tis, I know
Thou pressest, and desirous art to go.
Th'rough Paradise the way doth thither lye,
Which e'r thou cann'st attain thou here must dye.
Here thou must crucified be, for that
Through Hell thou must passe e'r thou canst come at
Blest Paradise: and dangerous it is
To passe th'rough Hell before you Death do kisse.
Death will disrobe thee of whatever may
In Hell's dark Kingdom thy brave progresse stay.
Thou must to all things crucified be,
And no impediment retain with thee.
For if thou bearest any thing, on which
Wrath's mighty King his iron claws may pitch,
He will torment thee, and inforc'd by pain
Thou to this Crosse return must back again.
Thou canst not passe his Kingdom, until thou
Thy Head to blessed Death, dost freely bow:
For by this Death thou gain'st thy Saviour's blood,
Which thorow Hell thy passage will make good:
Wrath's King may threaten then, but dare not do
For 's eares, the least of injuries to you.
But if thou ventur'st th'row his Kingdom, and
Not Crucified here, thou can'st not stand.

214

Thou se'st the Way, now if thou can'st embrace
A happy Death, here is the Crosse, and place.
Christ made Death easie; fear not then to dye,
But let this Mount, be thy Mount CALVARY.
This said the Angel bid the place adiew,
And th'row the smooth ayr in the Chariot flew,
Leaving the Pilgrim to encounter Death,
And to gain Life, by yielding mortal breath.

The Pilgrim being left alone, unto
The Crosse he ran, and his sweet lips did glew
Unto its hard sides; from his mouth there came
Blessings, and hearty kisses mix'd with them.
About its sides his grasping armes did twine,
Enclosing it as Elmes the tender Vine.
Bless'd instrument by Death of Life, cry'd he,
Man's gain, Hel's pain losse to Mortality,
The zeal of Heav'n; the blessed spoyl of sin,
The Key that shuts Hell out, and lets Heav'n in:
The Way to glory; and of Crowns the gain;
The Bar to Death, and everlasting pain:
To Death, but 'tis of Flesh, and Sin the Way:
The Road to Life, and everlasting Joy.
Come Death; come Death, I now prepared am
To Dye, Come nail me to this Crosse: O come,
Come strike me with thy killing Dart! for I
To give the Ghost up of mortality,
Of Flesh, of Sin do long: Come here's my Heart
Prepared to receive thy killing Dart.
Thou shalt slay me, but when I yield my breath
I Victor am: for my last foe is Death.

DEATH then appear'd: though terrible he seem
To others doth, he pleasing shew'd to him.
'Twas not the common Death, that takes away
The little breath, we in this World enjoy.
Twas not that heap of Bones that frightful Death,
Which digs mens graves, and robs them of their breath:
That slays whole thousands every Day, and feasts
His fleshlesse Carcasse both on Men, and Beasts.
No 'twas another Death, which yet would seem
To some more terrible, and fierce than him.

115

This Death's both foe, and Friend, a foe to all
The sinful Man; Friend to the Spiritual.
This kills the sinful Man, but durifies
The outward; slayeth that, this rectifies.
The sinful Man trembled to see the Face
Of Death, and his vile execution place.
O how he strugled, but it was in vain,
The Pilgrim scorn'd him longer to retain:
His willing armes he gave to Death, who straight
Both Feet, and Hands with Nailes did perforate,
And fix'd them to the Crosse: and there, upon
That Tree to true mortification
He did attain; the Flesh, the World, and Sin
Was slain: all which so long alive had been.
This dying Swan, now drawing near his end,
In such sweet notes his latest breath did spend.

Vain World adieu
No more on you
Ile cast my dying eyes:
This sacred Crosse
Than all your drosse
To me's a greater prize.

Vain Flesh be gone,
No longer on
Your Beauties will I dote:
The World, and you
I bid adieu
To sail in Death's safe boat.

Too long I 'ave been
Alive to Sin
But now upon the Crosse,
That life I'le leave,
And Death receive
Yet gain Life, by Life's losse.

I have o'rethrone
Temptation,

216

And often giv'n the foil
But now I'le quell
The Root of Hell,
And 's nest in my breast spoil.

By me hath sin
Resisted been
But now its root I will,
Though, by the strife,
I lose my life
For growing ever spill.

My Feet are nayld,
(Affections quail'd)
Unto this Crosse: my Hands
(My active Life)
Now ceaseth strife)
Are bound with iron bands.

Refined things
May take their wings:
And speed to others now,
I passive am
And dead become,
To live I know not how.

My Face grows pale,
My Spirits fail,
My dying breath doth flye,
Hast Death, I pray,
Take life away,
For I do long to dye.

Death at these words struck th'rough his tender heart,
And Life, and death at one stroke did impart:
Rivers of sinful blood ran down from his side;
The sinful Nature groaned thrice and dy'd:

217

Flesh left the stroke, and was enforc'd to yield,
And to triumphing Death bequeath the Field:
Thus he to Blood resisted: and did share
In this first Death; nor doth he others fear
Now he has tasted this; By this who fall,
Fear not th' Eternal, nor the Natural.
A pleasing Victim on the Crosse he lay;
Heav'ns Sacrifice, and Death's most blessed prey.
Go Hell and tempt him now with sugard Pills,
Thrice gild, thrice dulcifie your bitter ills,
Use all your Art, use all your Eloquence,
Conjoyn your Words, and your false Excellence,
Go all conspire in one him to deceive,
See if he'l either hear you, or believe
Your subtle prating: Strength, and policy
Together knit with all your subtilty,
And see if either will admission gain:
Away all your endeavours are in vain,
Do not you see he's dead? think you that he
Then with your subtilties will moved be?
Go spread a Table, and set on the Board
The choysest vyands fruitful Earths afford;
A thousand Cups with all her pleasures fill,
Tempt him, and see if eat or drink he will.
Away vain Ideots, you have lost your prize:
Hell, and the World's cousen'd when Man thus dies.
O blessed Death that seals our eyes, our ear,
Our mouth that they nor tast, nor see, nor hear
Can, what Hell gives, or shews, or speaks to us:
Thrice happy Man whom this blest Death frees thus.
A dead Man's wholly passive, what you list
You may do to him, he cannot resist:
So here our Pilgrim dead upon the Crosse,
At the disposal of his Father was,
And truly mortifi'd he hangeth on
The Crosse, until the Angel takes him down.

Th' Heav'nly Nuncio with Peace's Olive bough,
And with victorious Palmes, and Laurels, flew
From the Ætherial Court; a wreath he brought
Which cann't be by Earth's Gold and Silver bought:

218

It was a Branch of purest Gold, which he
Commissionated, pull'd from Lifes fair Tree,
To make a Garland for the Pilgrim's Head,
And happily to crown with Life, the Dead.
One Hand bore this; as precious a thing
And 's Sacred he in 's other Hand did bring;
A garment 'twas of Scarlet dy'd in grain,
Whose Tyrian blushes, Virgins blushes stain;
The Pinks, and Roses as he passed by,
Hung down their heads; to see a better dye
Blushed for shame; but growing pale with spite,
They (being outvy'd) themselves disrobed quite.
This Garment tincted was in that blest Blood,
That Crimson spring, that deep dy'd Scarlet flood,
Which flow'd from Jesu's sacred side, when he
Dy'd, that the sinful World might saved be.
The Ermin-lined Purple which doth lye
Solely upon the back of Majesty,
Though cover'd over with Avacan Gemms,
To this rich Robe a simple Garment seems.
Man, though he's cloath'd, is naked without this;
With this cloath'd, though he's naked, cloathed is.

Unto the Crosse's foot the Angel came,
And with his lovely eyes considers him;
He sees the Pilgrim dead: the sinful man,
Flesh, and its Members crucifi'd, and slain:
No gashly sight this was; Death not enhance
Did, those fresh glories of his countenance:
This Death although h'had made him freely bleed,
Wrapt not his Body in his sheets of Lead:
His eyes were sweetly clos'd, his cheeks did look
Like those of the departing Feavour-struck:
A dying Fire seemed there to lye,
Which able was to court the nicest eye.
From thence the helpful Angel takes him down,
And with the Golden wreath of Life doth Crown
His pious Temples: on his Head he pours
Out of transparent Viols crystal showers,
Pure water taken from the Fount of Blisse,
Which every Limb from head to foot doth kisse,

219

Which cleanseth every Limb, and part: And so
The Stone's deep black converted is to snow.
Stript naked of his former rags, upon
His back he puts the bloody Garment on:
A Noble colour, White is turn'd to red,
The Work's now almost throughly finished.
Thus cloath'd, and drest, to Life the Pilgrim came
Another Man, and yet the very same.
He look'd as if he were new born agen;
His eyes saw now what he had never seen.
His wandring Orbs on every thing do passe,
As if enquiring in what place he was
He saw a Region, which his eyes ne'r did
Before behold; The Region was hid
Before, but now lay open to his view.
His speaking eyes the willing Angel drew
For to declare what place it was: He brake
Silence, and thus unto the Pilgrim spake.

Locus Purgatorius inter Mundos.

O avarice! for Gold, and Silver's prize,
The golden Truth, thou 'ast turn'd to drossy Lyes!
Best things corrupted prove the worst of all:
By Rome's false Limbo, doth true LIMBO fall.
The Christian Churches first blest Founders sure,
Their Streams delated from the Fountain pure:
Heav'n put that breath into their mouths, which they
Inspired thus, to others did conveigh.
The holy Ghost upon them breath'd, nor was
Their Words corrupted by an humane glosse.
Then flourish'd Truth, and all our Hyerarchie
Rejoyc'd so pure a Church on Earth to see.
No pitchy clouds of error then did presse
'Twixt their eyes, and the Sun of Righteousnesse;
The Truth shon then as clear, as doth the Sun
Mounted in 's golden Chariot, at noon.

220

(Christs Church sees clearly still where e'r it be
Scatter'd, through others; and the Head is he)
But envious Sathan, when he saw Truth so
Extreamly spread, and o're the World to grow;
He sew'd his Tares of Errors, and did blind
With clouds of darknesse, Man's true eye, the Mind.
These faster than the true Wheat grew; this crop
Of evil weeds, did soon the Wheat o're-top.
Darknesse grew on apace; anon the Day
Could not its Light but here and there display,
Th'rough the small cranies of dark clouds: then 'twas
Pride, and Ambition in Rome's Church took place:
Then crept in all those Ceremonies; then
The Truth gave place unto the wiles of Men.
Then Avarice, with her hook'd Talons made
Such Laws, which turn'd Religion to a Trade,
And for the Love of Money did disguise
Fair Truth, and cloath'd her with a pack of Lies.
Something of precious Truth; something of Day,
Under disguise; under the clouds there lay.
Your Silver ISIS about Chelsy's not,
The same, as where his bubling springs do put
First forth their Crystal Heads near Thorlton, for
Churne's, Windrushe's, and Cherwell's waters there
And Tame's, Coln's, Brents, with his clear streams do run:
So on the other side he entertain
Doth Ock, Lad, Kennet, Surrie's Rivers too,
Whose severe Waters with his mingle do:
Yet with these may at Chelsy run the same
Pure waters, which from his clear spring-head came.
So pure Religion's streams, by this time had
With many of Hel's Stygian stream-lets spread,
Which were polluted with their Waters, yet
Amongst them Truth's pure Crystal streams did flit,
But so bemudded that they scarce were seen
But by those clear eyes who did dive for them.
The snowy flow'r is mixed with the Bran:
The chaff with Wheat; one sift the other fan
We must: not fling them both away, and make
Th' one uselesse for us, for the other's sake.

221

We must beware when that the Tares we cull,
Lest we with them the Wheat up also pull.
Fifteen Cent'ries, and two decades of years,
After Christ's death, from Isleben appears
A Light by which Rome's muddy streams were seen,
By which the Truth men strove to cull between
Error's black clouds; But Zeal them so possest,
They her rejected, 'cause by Rome's hands drest.
So fearful were they of a Romish dresse,
That Truth they 'ad rather leave, than her possesse
In that false Habit; many Truth's despis'd
Were thus, because by Rome they were disguis'd.
Among the rest, and not the least, this place,
This Region which thou now behold'st, one was:
And 'cause Rome's fopperies had obscur'd the Light
Of it, forsooth they it discarded quite:
And by the ears it from existence whorry,
For fear of entertaining Purgatory.

The Truth of it now testifie thou mayst
To others, now thy self thou seen it hast.
It is not such thou seest as Rome doth fain,
For th' all-corrupting Gold, and Silver's gain.
This is the middle Region, and doth hide
It self between four Worlds, on every side
They bound this place. Would'st thou know who those be
Who yonder up and down you wandering see?
They are departed Souls, who had begun
The holy Race to Sion's Hill to run:
Who had Hel's broad Rode left, and who in this
Heav'ns Path, some progress made had towards Blisse;
But e'r their Natures purified were,
E'r they attain'd had to that happy Sphear,
Which unto Paradise immediate leads,
Parca assunder cut their vital thread:
Their parted souls then to this Region flew,
Where they must perfect what they had to do,
VVhere they 'till purified must remain,
E'r they to Paradise admittance gain.
Th'rough Hel's deep Centre must the Soul first pass,
And th'rough a Sea of Fire to that of Glass,

222

Th'rough the first Principle (as thou anon
Shalt see) Now if the Soul's not cloath'd upon
With Christ's sanguinous Robe, the second and
Most holy Principle, she cannot stand,
But there is captivate, or beaten back
Unto the Crosse, t'endure the holy Rack,
By putting off the first, that so she may
With th' second Principle her self array:
Then may she passe, and not before; Those who
In flesh this holy Robe do not indue,
But dying hold by Faith's strong clue: are brought
Hither, to finish what remains unwrought.

The Way to Heav'n is not so easie, as
By poor beguiled Man imagin'd was:
Straight is that Gate, and narrow is that Way,
Which Mortals doth conduct to perfect Day:
He that to presse th'row this straight Gate would seek,
Must fling the World, and flesh from off his neck,
They cannot enter Heav'n with him; nor can
Some Notions prove a Saviour unto Man:
The Work must somewhere finish'd be; if on
The Earth, to Heav'n they go: if not 'till done
It fully be they here remain: But those
Wend straight to Hell, who Hel's high-way had chose.

Man calls God merciful, yet makes the same
God, the third part of all mankind to damn.
Hard-hearted Man! dost thou not know there is
An armed Cherub 'fore the Gate of Blisse?
Dost thou not know that Paradise is kept,
By Armes unwearied, Eyes that never slept?
By a bright flaming Fauchon, which enough
Of terrour strikes to keep the wicked off?
Or tell me Man! hast thou yet never heard
That Imperfection cannot passe this Guard?
Nor flesh, nor blood can enter Heav'n, nor can
Ever come there the least imperfect man.
No Imperfections enter Paradise.
If Man's not perfect then before he dyes,
(A some by no means grant) where shall he then
Be perfect made, but in this Region?

223

'Tis true, degrees there in perfection are:
None throughly perfect is till he comes, where
Mortality of Immortality
Is swal ow'd up: where he beholds the Eye,
And Face of God without a Skreen: to this
None can attain whilst in the flesh he is.
How few are there that to a perfect State
Arrive, before Death Life doth terminate!
To such a State I mean, in which they may
To Paradise go, and make here no stay,
When their Souls fly their Bodies: Souls must clear
Be purg'd on Earth, from what they drunk in there.
It is not Notions that the Work must do,
It must be real, and done throughly too:
This Work not in the Head, but Heart doth lye,
That's most regarded by th' all-seeing Eye:
If they with Christ, are truly risen, they
When Dye, passe by this purging Region may.

But tell me Man! what shall those Pilgrim's do,
VVho in Heav'ns Way have gone, but come not to
Be dead, and risen with our Lord, when by
The Way they lose their mortal Life, and dye?
They are not fit for Paradise: What then?
Must they be hurled to the Stygian Den?
Must they be damn'd? with God's great Mercy rather
Doth it not stand, to bring their Spirits hither?
Where they may finish, what they had begun;
And to the end of Sion's Race may run?
Dost say 'tis by Christ's Blood they'r purg'd? we know't:
But dost thou know what time he'l take to do't?
'Tis he that doth it here; 'tis by his Blood,
And in this place that they are purifi'd.

It was dear Pilgrim Man's stupidity,
That me enforc'd to this Apostrophe.
But now, I'le tell thee more: This is the place
Which by Christ's Sermon once made happy was,

224

When he to those who perish'd in the flood
Repentance preach'd; and made predictions good.
'Twas to the dead departed souls that he,
Bestow'd his blessed! bounteous Charity
After his own death, when he had in one
By an Hypostatical Union,
His humane Soul, and Deity conjoyn'd,
And not in Noah's time, as some divin'd.
To Spirits, not to Men in flesh he spake,
And did their Prison, then a Temple make.

I would a question ask of peevish man,
Who doth to Death, those you call Heathen damn,
Se'ing God all-mighty did with those souls bear,
Who 'fore the flood would not his servant hear.
But perish'd by the Waters, and did them
Not to an everlasting Death Condemn,
But to this Region brought their souls, where they
Their Ransom might with true Repentance pay:
Whither the Gentiles, (who but 'bate their name
Do in morality most Christians shame)
Who before Christ's time liv'd by Nature's Law,
And conscientious unto what they saw;
Who had indu'd a moral Honesty,
Studious of that, and all Sobriety,
Seeing that their Nature's dim taper had
Only to walk by, though their Light was bad
They walk'd as well, as that could guide; and though
They wanted that bright Sun, which we do know,
They God in some part knew: whether these be
Condemn'd to Hell for all Æternity?
Or whether God his Mercy has not shown
To them, and brought them to this Region?
Where they by Christ might saved be, se'ing none
Are saved but by blessed Him alone?
Seeing the Lord's more merciful, than to
Require of them, more than they ever knew:
Being Transgression's not without a Law;
And none damn'd for breach of what he ne'r saw;
This I would ask Man, but I think that he
Sarcasmes would return, not answer me,

225

Let not the World presume, nor yet surmise,
Because the Heathens works they equalize
That they shall hith'r attain: God has an higher
And brighter Light gi'n to the World; Require
He therefore now doth at the Hands of Men,
Far greater things, than he expected then.
Man's Talent's greater now: the Stars upon
The Heathens only, now on Men the Sun
Doth clearle shine: Who falls for want of sight
God pitty'd; but will not now men have Light.
But let's proceed for I have stai'd too long
To speak of what the World doth count a Song.
The Pilgrim hearing this, his eyes withdrew,
And bid the Spirits Ergastule adieu.

Now hand in hand they went, but straight they were
Come to the entrance of another Sphear.
The place seem'd like a grave; 'twas where such dead
As he was, used to be buried.
The Pilgrim looked in, but in the place
Nothing but a most horrid darkness was,
Which equaliz'd the pitchy clouds, which fume
At black Avernus from Hel's horrid womb.
'Twas Tænarus or th' entrance into Hell,
Or from the third, to the first Principle.
But thus the Angel to the Pilgrim said;
This is the grave in which no man was laid
Before the mighty Son of God; 'twas here
His sacred Virgin Limbs first layed were:
Here was he buried, here must also thou
Into this Grave, as he did, enter too.
I'le be thy Guide, fear not, thy Coat will keep
Off all the vapours of th' infernal deep
From hurting thee. This said, they both into
That Cave of darksome Night together go.

Fancy not Reader, that our Pilgrim crept
Into some Cave, or down some Cavern stept:
Or that the Worlds by outward distance are
Disjoyn'd: they are contingent every where,
And yet there is a Gulf between: but this
The entrance is into that dark Abysse,

226

A sinking down from the third Principle
Towards the Centre of the deepest Hell.
The darkest pitchy Night that ever was,
Her sables could not to this horrid place
Compare: This is the Fountain (when she lacks)
Whence she expromes her jetty deep-dy'd blacks.
Here 'tis she dips her inky Mantles; Here
In soot, or pitch she dyes, what she doth wear:
Hence she those black Screens has, which from our sights
Oft times do hide Heav'n's little twinkling Lights.
But th' happy Pilgrim, and the Angel here
In spight of all Hel's pitch their Way see clear.
No Carbuncle, whose fiery Rayes doth Night
Chase from his presence, ever gave such Light,
As that Purpurean Garment he had on,
Which like ten thousand joyned Rubine's shon;
And those bright Rayes which from the Angels Face
Calligenous Night did from their presence chase.
Backward she flew, as they approach'd, and fell
Just at the Feet of the great Prince of Hell.
But as they onward went, a pointed Ray
Beam'd neer the place, where all the Devils lay:
Hell started back, and all the damned Crew
Under dark inky waves together flew.
Nothing more terrible is to their sight,
Than the least beaming, or a Ray of Light.
Great PLUTO trembled, and his Throne did shake,
He fear'd least Christ another Voyage make
Might th'rough his Kingdom, to add pains to pains,
Closer Confinement, and more chaines to chaines.
But having drunk a draught of Stygian Nectar,
He furious grows: Am not I Hell's PROTECTOR?
Cry'd he; Did not I dare at once to flye
'Gainst Heav'n's own Face, and all his Hierarchie?
Do I so many Legions Command?
And do I here sneaking, and trembling stand?
And dare not venture to see who these be,
That dare to venture on my Hell, and me?
That dare in Hostile manner thus invade
My Realm, and Captivate with Light my shade?

227

I'le see who 'tis: If 't be not him I fear
So much, my looks shall hence all others scare.

With that an hideous rore he gave, and from
All parts of Hell Legions of Devils come,
These hellish Troops follow their Princely Lord,
Cloath'd with the darkest pitch Hell could afford;
Each had a shield lin'd with ten thousand shades,
To keep off Light; when it their eyes invades.
Yet not secure, each muffles up his sight,
With Tartarus's black Lawnes, and furrs of Night.
These met the Pilgrim, but no sooner had
His eyes, and garment their bless'd Beamings shed
Upon these Troops, but they fall back, and rend
Hel's strong Foundations, with the cryes they send
From their black throats: Rage issu'd from their eyes,
And from their mouths and tongues fell Blasphemies.
They knew that bloody Dye, that Robe was fear'd,
The sight of it Dis, and his Troops thus scar'd.
O who can paint the noise of Hell, the roar
Great Sathan gave the neighbour Pillars tore.
Ten hundred thousand ratling chaines did clink,
Th'rough the place flew a Sulphurian stink,
Thinking the Pilgrim with the stinch to choak:
From their mouths flew Volumns, and clouds of smoak.
This sight amaz'd our Traveller, the smell
Of Sulphure, Brimstone, and of Nitre fell
Out of those clouds; and all the stinking fume
Fly'ng th'rough the place, did to his nosethrils come.
His eares with curses, and with Blasphemy
VVere fil'd; the clouds which all about did flye
Prest th'rough his lips, and touching there his tongue,
VVith bitter horrid acritude it stung.
Strange pricking atoms, which did touch his skin
Invisibly annoy'd him with their sting:
VVhole streams of venom rouled at his feet,
Which mighty Pluto from his mouth had spit.
But all this while with hideous roars, and cryes,
All the black Troops of Hell before him flies,
Ratling their chaines, and to avoid his sight,
Wrapping themselves in smoaky clouds of Night.

228

But Hel's infernal mighty Prince, once more
His flying Troops stops with an hideous roar,
And shaking his dire snaky Locks he cry'd:
You mighty Sons, and I great Prince of Pride,
Why flee we thus? By my great Iron Rod,
My Head, and Throne, 'tis not the Son of God
Who loaded these Imperial Hands with chaines,
And whose great Power m'imperial might restraines.
This is some puny Saint, some counterfeit,
Whom Zeal hath hither brought with hasty feet
To pass our Kingdom, unto Paradise;
Me thinks we should not daunted thus agnize
His power: Ah! wer't not for that curs'd Coat
He wears, how soon I'd cut his Saintships throat.
But seeing 'tis not Christ himself, I vow
I scorn to any of his Train to bow.
He cannot hurt us, let us shew him then,
That we have power to drive him back ag'en.
Let's 'fright him if we can: Torment alass!
To see our Foes th'rough our own Realm to pass,
Spite of our teeths! I am resolv'd to try't
With him, and though I fal I'le shew my spight,
This said his rallied Troops their Horns do whet
Upon a Rock of Adamant; and set
Their stoutest courage up: great LUCIFER
A beam of Iron in his hand doth bear,
His eyes like Lamps were; from his nosethrils flew
Black clouds of smoak, his Whale-like mouth did spew
Flames like a Furnace; and an hundred shoales
Of melting bullets, and red glowing coals.
His Iron Mace against a Rock he strook,
And a great Lake of fire, and brimstone took
Its rise from thence, which spreading all about,
Up to the knees he wadeth hurtlesse th'rough't.

Thus he appears, and thinks by this to 'fray
Th' unmoved Traveller out of his Way;
Put that bless'd Robe in which he was bewrap'd,
The Pilgrim dauntlesse, and in safety kept.
The hellish light'ning from his Head was beat
Back, by the golden Bayes that compass'd it:

229

And maugre Hell, and all its power could do,
Victoriously, unstop'd he passed th'rough:
For Hell still dazeled at the Light he bore
Flung down his fires, and fled as once before.
There was no Guilt for Hell to fasten on;
For if there had, Hell had the Conquest won:
And if there had, the Cherub's flaming Sword
To Paradise no passage would afford.
For now he saw the passage fill'd with flame,
Which from a supercilious Angel came.
A mighty Sword he held, from whence a stream
Of flaming Fire th'rough the place did beam:
Into 't our Pilgrim went, and bravely bold,
Walk'd th'rough the midst; and like seven times tri'd Gold
Shon brighter than those flames. Untouch'd his hair
Was, and the garment which his shoulders bare.
To him bow'd down the Angel-Centinal,
And gave free passage to the brazen Wall.

Now was his heart amazed, when he saw
The separation plac'd by Heav'n's hard Law;
'Twixt man, and Paradise: on heaps there was
A mountanous ruine of the sollid'st Brass,
Which like huge Mountains heap'd together, and
As Monuments lay of some mighty Hand.
For part of that great Wall (which was so high
That its proud top our Pilgrim with his eye
Could not attain) it was; now down, a Gap
It left; which never could be mended up.
After the Pilgrim all amaz'd had view'd
That Sconce of Brass, he to the Angel su'd,
To let him know by what Hand built it was,
And what strength had broke down that league-thick Brass.
The Angel who such favours ne'r deny'd
To him, after a little pause reply'd.

You stand amazed at these ruines; I
As much amaz'd at Man's impiety
Do stand: for this immense and mighty breach
To thankless man Æternal Love doth preach:
And yet ingrateful He, abase the Power
Doth of his only and great Saviour.

230

I tremble now I think how some men dare
Speak slightly of him, who is Heav'ns own heir.
How some men dare, O horrid! to deny
His Godhead: fearful! fearful Blasphemy!
How some Men dare to say blest Jesus did
Do nothing for them, when h'at Salem dy'd.
Would all such now were here to see the Power,
He had, and how he was a Saviour,
To all that ever saved were. VVould Heaven
Had me to trumpet This Commission given,
Th'rough all the quarters of the World I'd sound
This act; th' effect of Love, and Strength profound.
Would now the Winds th'rough every Land might blow
My words, that all, what I tell thee might know:
That so they might ne'r hear blest Jesu's Name,
But their proud Hearts, and Knees bow at the same.
Consider well this brazen VVall; your eyes
Are too too weak unto the top to rise:
How thick it is! Behold how vast! VVhat one
Could ever climb o're it, or break it down?
Could all the World, and if they hither came
VVith Catapults, or Tower-shaking Rams?
Or their vast Bombards, damage this great Wall?
Or a thousand shot make any sign at all?
How vain would all their strength be! Jesus then
As more Love, so more strength had than all Men:
'Twas his own Hand, and his own Hand alone,
That made this breach, that pul'd this Brass-wall down.

Pilgrim attend! The Protoplast once did
On Earth behold that Realm, which now lies hid,
That Realm to which we press, bless'd Paradise,
Adam beheld on Earth with virgin Eyes.
The first, and second Principles did lie
Conjoyned to the third, in Harmony.
These were disjoyn'd by Adam's wretched sin,
And Harmony stept out, and discord in.
A sensual tast it was by which he lost
That place, which Jesu's dearest Blood hath cost,
For to redeem again for us. God's Wrath
And Justice be'ing awak'd against them both.

231

Both Adam, and his Eve; He them cast out
From thence, then wall'd it, with this Wall about.
The Guardian Cherubim he placed then,
VVith a versatile Sword to keep out Men.
O how the Devil rejoyc'd to see this Bar
To Blisse: Mine own (he cry'd) all Mortals are:
None can break this I'm sure; none now shall see,
Nor into Paradise admitted be.
Was it not sure enough? what Man could pass
Thorow this Fire, and o're this Wall of Brass?
And thus was Man excluded Paradise,
But less obscure, and trulier thus it is:
After that Unity had broken been,
And Discord introduced by the sin
Of Adam; strait the second Principle,
Drew from the Third, and in its Æther fell:
To its own Centre fled; the VVorld bereft
Of 't, was as well as Adam naked left.
Then the first Principle of Wrath was seen,
VVhich strait the third, and second stept between;
Th'rough which till Christ no man could ever pass:
This is the Cherub, and the wall of Brass.
This is the flaming Sword, which turns about,
To keep of Paradise all Mortals out.
And thus excluded they had ever been,
If Christ had not in Mercy entrance giv'n.
In fulness then of Time, down from above,
To take an humane Soul came mighty LOVE,
The second Person in the Trinity,
(O sacred! and thrice sacred Mysterie!)
To make a way for poor excluded Man,
Th'rough Hell to Heaven, for this end he came.
This none but mighty He could do, and this
Had he not done, Man ne'r had tasted Blisse.

VVhen he therefore the Cup of Wrath had drunk
Upon the Crosse, and into Death was sunk
Into these deeps he came, and that Way too,
By which from earth we hither came but now.
The common Road to Hell this is not, still
None this Way go, but against Sathan's will.

232

This is the private path th'rough Hell, to Heav'n,
By Christ to those who his steps follow, given.
This is the Path, by his blest death made Good,
Gained with pain, purchas'd with so much blood.
This is the Path which Hell still strives to hide,
Least Mortals by 't to Paradise should slide.
This is the Path which shews Christ's Power: It is
The Path which leads from miseries, to Blisse.
A spacious Road leads unto Pluto's Court,
On the left hand; where Mortals much resort;
Paved with pleasures, and external Blisse,
With Riches, honours, and such baites it is.
This Road brings to a Gate of Æbony,
Whose lofty portals, mounted are on high,
Whose wide-leav'd Gates by Pluto's strict command
Both Night, and Day, for ever open stand.
So wide they are, a World at once may in
Get, but a mite cannot return ag'in.
Such is the Hospitality of Hell,
Gratis all Men may there, for ever dwell.
This is the Gehenna; this the Lions Den
From whence there can be no Redemption.
This Road Christ's sheep do shun, for that Way is
The way to Torment, not the Path to Blisse.
'Till Christ this Way made, there no other was;
Therefore when first he came into this place,
Hell was amaz'd; and its foundation shook
Its mighty Pillars all assunder broke.
Great LUCIFER fell from his Æbon Seat,
And 's neck subjected unto Jesu's feet.
The trembling Devils roar'd, and with a Yell
Upon their faces before Jesus fell,
Then with ten thousand chaines of Adamant
He loaded them: and them of Room did scant,
Ty'ng them more strictly to their Centre, and
Enforcing them to yield to his Command.
He broke the Power Hell had over Man,
That by his might he might triumph ag'en.
His eyes tormented Hell; his very breath,
Assunder broke the cruel jawes of Death.

233

The damned yelled, and his sacred Sight
That cursed crew put int' an horrid fright.
Then he the Dev'ls restrain'd, so that they could
Not hurt those who this path trod if they would.
Then th'rough the Cherub's flaming Sword he went
Unhurt; to whom his Head the Angel bent
Down to his Feet: the flaming Fire no power
Had the least hair of his Head to devour.

Scarce was there any thing that Jesus did
For Man's Salvation but 'twas typifi'd
Long e'r he came in flesh; and all before
Of Note; some shadow of this Substance bore:
And it was fit that Heav'n's high Majesty,
Should into Earth by Prodrums usher'd be.
How did the Priestly Ceremonies too,
His Office, and his Acts exactly shew.
How did the Prophets prophesie of Him:
How was his acts præacted e'r he came,
But all in shadows; He the Substance was,
And they all vanish'd, when he came in place,
So did the brazen Serpent, shew that he
For Soul, and Body should Physitian be.
So did the scape-Goat to the Jews declare,
That he theirs, and the whole Worlds Sins should bear.
So Joshua, who to Canaan led the Jews,
That Christ his lead shall to his Kingdom shews.
So David, who Saul's fury did remove,
Shews that Christ should Wrath overcome by Love.
So Isaac offered did typifie
That offer'd Jesus for the World should dye.
So Jonas buried in the Whale did tell
The World, that Christ descend should into Hell,
And that he should arise again. And so
Were Shadrach, Mesheck, and Abednego.
When in the seaven-times heated Furnace they
W'thout hurt or singing of their hair did stay,
A Type of Jesu's walking th'rough this flame
Of Wrath; th'rough which help'd by his Pow'r we came
So Sampson's strength did Jesu's typifie;
Who at his feet bow'd Hel's great Majesty:

234

And when on his broad shoulders he did lay
Strong Gaza's Gates, and bear them quite away,
Of Christ's great power, and mighty strength He was
A Type, who bore away these Gates of Brasse,
VVhen Hell thought to imprison him: Alone
He by his strength pul'd this Brass Fortress down.
For when that he came near, he put his Hand,
Unto this Wall which as a Bar did stand.
Between the World, and Paradise: straight shook
Its strong Foundations when his hold he took
On it; strait trembled every part, and down
To Jesu's feet fell his high-crested Crown.
Then was this breach made which you see, and then
A way was made to Paradise ag'en,
VVhich had so long denyed been, to all
The progeny of Adam, since his fall.

O glorious! yea thrice glorious happy Breach!
By which fall'n Man again to Heav'n may reach!
O Noble Work! O mighty strength of the
Blest Son of God's glorious Humanity!
'Twas his Humanity this work did do,
Or else no passage here had been for you,
Nor for an' humane Soul. O David's Stemm!
O Jesus who dy'd at Jerusalem!
Can any Man speak such fell Blasphemy
To say that all that's sav'd, not 's sav'd by thee?
Dear Pilgrim 'twas none but that Christ alone,
That for Man hath wrought this Salvation:
But 'count it not a vain Tautologie
If I once more relate it unto thee:
Thus in a word it was. The blessed Love,
Upon the Wrath its gentle self did move:
Both Principles were reconcil'd: In one
VVere joyned, in an happy union
The first and second Principles; arise
Immediatly from them did Paradise.
Thus Wrath, and Love by Christ we reconcil'd.
VVho brought forth Paradise, an happy child,
Unto which place thou now shalt go; and th'rough
This happy breach, which Christ has made for you.

235

Mundus Luminosus, vel Paradisiacus.

Here lacks an Angel's Tongue to Trumpet forth,
In his best Layes, blest Paradise's worth;
That by those sweet straines he a tast might give
To you, what pleasures there for ever Live.
Here lacks a Tasso, or a Bartas, or
A Spencer's Muse, a Quarles, or Silvester:
Or some such Laureate: But since their skil
Is wanting to my Pen, accept my Will:
For though my Muse cann't reach their lofty vein,
Child-like the Truth speaks in a stammering strain.
Thus far sh' has waded, and she th'rough must go,
Although the style is for the Theame too low.

The horrid Mansion of Æternal Night
Our Pilgrim now forsakes; the blessed Light
Of Paradise his eyes salutes; the smell
Of Arabie, drives back the sent of Hell.
Thorow that breach made by the Hand of Love,
Still by the Angel guided he doth move,
And mounting up from that infernal pit,
Upon the skirts of Paradise doth sit.
O blessed rise! no foes he now may fear,
For over Hell, and Death he's Conquerour.
This Resurrection is the first, and He
That rises thus may ever happy be.
Our Pilgrim's nosethrils which Hel's horrid stink
Of Sulphur had drunk, Odors now do drink
Of Paradise; now from Ælysium
Clouds of perfumes, and rapting smels do come.
But whilst upon the very verge they stay'd,
Th' Angel unlock'd his Ruby Lips and said.

O new-born Pilgrim, thou the Grave hast seen,
Thou know'st now what 'tis to be born again.
This is the happy, and the blessed state,
Where thou may'st say thou art Regenerate.

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Thou art a child become, and now must learn
Those Lessons which thy eyes did ne'r discern.
Whilst in the World, and in thy sins thou wert.
Christ is thy Master, thou his Scholar art.
But in one moment thou shalt profit more
Now, than in all thy Life thou didst before.
Thou here shalt gain more in an hour, than all
The Scholars in their great Lycæums shall.
No vain Disputes shall studied be, by thee,
But God, and Nature shall thy study be:
To such as thee, he giveth leave to go
Among his Treasures, and his secrets know.
There's not a Leaf, there's not a spire of Grass,
There's not a clod of Earth, nor Tree, but has
A Tongue to speak, which doth Arcana's show;
But th' ignorant doth not their Language know.
Nor can they know the cloathing they have on,
Till they wash in the Fountain of the Sun,
O're which the Golden Apples hang, but this
By a ne'r sleeping Dragon, watched is.
Defiled persons never can come to 't:
Polluted hands can never tuck those fruit.
To thee, and such as thee these things are shown:
Who live in Paradise unseen, unknown.
But let me warn thee Pilgrim, that thou mayst
Not of that Tree, as once did Adam tast,
Lest thou dost lose those Blessings which the Lord,
If thou fal'st not, will unto thee afford:
Those secret blessings which we do not dare
For fear of curses to the World declare.

The Tri-une God hath generated from
Æternity, in 's own Æternal Womb
Two Principles (so cal'd because they be
Th' out-spoken Word of the great Deity,
So their PRINCIPIUM is (else they have none)
Their breathing out, or manifestation)
The Dark, and Light: That we call First, and This,
The holy Light World, and the Second is.
God in the First is known a Judge severe,
Angry, and Jealous, Wrathful and Austere;

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But in the Second he doth solely move
In Light, in Meekness, gentleness and Love:
The First gives being to the Dark-world, and
The Light doth in the Second's Essence stand.
Nor can that be cal'd Evil: Harmonize
The Second with 't, and it makes Paradise:
For 'tis as 'twere the Life of it; its seat,
And office there, is as in Man the heat
Or Spirit, which his body quickens, and
Maketh the joynts so nimbly move, and Bend;
But let this be w'thout its due Temprament,
Unharmoniz'd; and th' other humours spent,
How soon it Rages, and to fire doth turn,
And with intolerable Feavers burn
Distemper'd Man: So the first Principle
If separate, and that the Second quell
Doth not its acritude; it then is like
Nay, 'tis the Fire which doth the damned strike.
In discord Sulphure, Salt, and Mercury,
Is Hell: but Paradise in Harmony.
For this end therefore did the mighty Lord
Them Generate, that they might still accord,
And Harmoniz'd, might make this Paradise,
In which should spring Æternal Loves, and Joyes.

Thus did the Tri-une God himself display
In making of this place his Orb of Day;
For here the Spirit's influence doth flow,
And the great Wonders of the Godhead show.
God will'd not Hell then for the damned crew
(Although their Fate Æternally he knew)
Nor the black Devils did he so Create.
In the first Principle, or Wrathful state
No one he made: But a transcendant bright,
And mighty Prince; He in the Orb of Light
Or second Principle, Great LUCIFER
Created; here also created were

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All other Angels: But he on the Throne
Sat as a King, with great Dominion.
To him we all did Homage do, and he
Ruled the Princes of each Hierarchy.
And this was Heav'n, th' Æternal mansion
Of God, where standeth blessed Jesu's Throne.
Now here, and in this Principle of Light
He only should have shown the Power, and might
Of Love in Paradise; which then was, and
Where the External World does now, did stand.
But this great Prince of Light now Hel's great King
Into that dismal Realm himself did bring;
For in the fiers mighty strength he flew,
Scorning the Second Principle; subdue
The same he would; into the First therefore
He and his following Angels hurled were,
Where they in Anguish, and the Fier's might
Between the third, and second have their site:
Where they for ever must endure with those
Souls, who with that same Principle do close.
Thus Hell did come to be: But we who stood
Enjoy unutterable Sweets; the Food
Immortal eat, the Heart of God, for that
For ever seal'd to us our blessed State.

But now when Lucifer in Pride did rove,
The first and second Principles did move,
From whence a Third then came; the First did then
To operate upon it strait begin,
And like it self by its attracting force
It Rocks and stones did form; its bitter source,
The whole masse into such stuff would have brought,
But that the second Principle then wrought,
And harmonizing of the First begat
A watry fluid substance, on which sat
And mov'd the blessed Spirit, and from that
He Heav'ns did create, and separate
From the subsiding Earth: The upper Sea
He from the lower did divide: That's the
Material Water, did divide from those
VVhich being gave to them, from whence arose

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All that on Earth doth spring: It's truly say'd
God made from Water all that e'r was made.
And yet we cann't it Water call: but yet
Nothing can better be compar'd to it.
The lower waters Congregate: The Earth
Then to all Plants gave an apparant birth;
Thence Essence visible became, for these
Stood in their forms in blessed Paradise,
As the Idea's of what ever was
Or shall upon this Earthly Globe take place.
Thus is the World Æternal, and shall be
Never dissolved to a nullity:
For the great God will ne'r annihilate
The least thing that he ever did create,
But yet the substance perish shall, but the
Forms shall remain unto Æternity:
Some in one Principle, some in the other,
VVhen all things shall return to their first mother.
On the fourth Day, after the Third-Dayes even
The Sun, the Moon, and all the Lights of Heaven
Created were; the first Day's flitting Light
Now fixed was, and in the Sun took site.
The Heav'n impregnates then the female Earth,
And first her Seas to Fish, and Fowl gave birth.
Assoon as God his mighty FIAT spake:
Then from the Earth all living Creatures brake,
Made by the same Hand that the Earth had made,
And from the Earth's own Mother being had;
And yet the Earth was their own Mother too,
They from her Mother, in her womb indue
Four Elements, which when the FIAT was
Spake, Essence into living Forms did pass.
And thus the World, and all things God had made,
VVas Good, and in 't no evil being had.

But the bright Throne from whence the Prince of Hell
(As I have told you) into darkness fell
Stood empty still, and to supply his place
There not one Angel 'counted worthy was,
Therefore conspire the Holy Trinity
To make an Image of the Deity.

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This Man we call; to whom a Soul was giv'n
The perfect Image of the God of Heav'n,
He was ordain'd (for God did him prefer)
For to possess the Throne of Lucifer,
Had he but stood. Of Earth this man was made,
But not of such on which you Mortals tread,
It is an Earth which may in secret 'bide
Under the covering of your fleshly hide:
'Tis such an Earth that Stone can penetrate,
'Tis such an Earth as has in Heav'n a seat:
'Tis such an Earth as Man's blest Saviour
Put on, when he rose from the Grave in Power:
As clear as crystal, and as thin as ayr,
As bright as Venus, or the Morning Star.
From the same Mother of your Earth it came,
In which there harmonized doth remain
The quintessence of the four Elements,
In which there are no disagreeing rents:
Such was the Body of the first made Man,
Such cloathing his ennobled Soul had on.

In this the Soul the Image of our God
By th' Holy Spirit breathed in abode.
His Soul (as you'rs are) was created from
Three Principles, and from three Worlds did come:
Of all she did partake, and seem'd to be
Conjoyn'd Rays, or one Beam made out of Three.

Man being thus created our great King,
The Lord of all things, him to Earth did bring:
Unto the new-made World; and there his God
In Æden bid him to make his abode.
Then in that place this inner World so gay,
Its everlasting Beauties did display,
This place to which thou now art come, did there
With all its lovely Beauties then appear,
In this did Adam live, this is the place
Which ever since was called Paradise.
God had appointed this Felicity,
In Æden only at that time to be,
Because he knew that Adam there would fall,
Which made him not to spread it over all

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The new made World: If Adam had brought forth
In innocence then over all the Earth.
Had this World open'd been, and which one day
Th'rough all the whole Globe shall it self display.
Æden was not the Paradise, for there
All sorts of Beasts, and other Creatures were;
Sathan had power to enter there, but in
Bless'd Paradise he, nor the Beasts were seen.
Adam alone did dwell in Paradise,
In Æden; Æden held this World of Joys;
Here Adam dwelt, and happy had he stood,
For neither evil, nor the mundane good
Should he have known; for whilst he here abode
He should have press'd after the Heart of God:
His mind to the Æternal World alone
Should have, and not unto the dark World flown,
Nor to the earthly Orb: He should indeed
The Wonders of the Light World have display'd.
But down a precipice himself he hurl'd;
After the Soul of the terrestrial World
He long'd; which was the Tree forbid, and when
He tasted the material fruit, he then
Was captiv'd by the Spirit of that Orb,
And was indued with a fleshly garb.
And had his Soul not lived in that suit,
He had been metamorphiz'd to a Brute.
Thus Adam fell, thus Paradise and all
His issue feel the effects of his sad fall.

Thus Adam lost that Body which he had
Before he with his fleshly one was clad:
And so 's Soul was, as all the Souls of Men
Imprison'd are within a fleshly Den.
To gain that Body then Man's work should be,
Which Adam lost by the forbidden Tree,
The which must cloth the Soul when she doth flye
The Tabernacle of Mortality;
If not she naked goes to Hell, and there
Doth some black, horrid, ater garment wear.
Thus our King Jesus when he triumph'd had
O're Hell, and Death his humane Soul he clad

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With that bright Body, the first Adam lost;
Which could appear altho the doors were fast
Among his Lov'd Disciples. In this place
He forty dayes after his rising was.
Here in this Orb he stay'd, till he did move
Into the bosom of Æternal Love:
Till his Ascension day, till he on high
Did into Heav'n's Æternal Glory flye.
Then his Humanity he in the Throne
That LUCIFER did once possess sat down,
And there he sits at God's right Hand, and makes
Attonement for his dear Beloveds sakes.
O bless'd Jesus! were it not for thee
Not one poor mortal e'r could saved be.
What Adam lost, thou hast regain'd, and now
The World waits when thou thy great Power wilt shew,
When thou in Glory wilt come from the skies,
And Earth convert into a Paradise.
Dear Pilgrim I declare these things to thee,
That thou fore-warn'd, also fore-arm'd might'st be:
For though thou can'st not here, as Adam did
Fal to mortality, yet here forbid
Thou art to joyn unto the World's great Sp'right:
For though thou cann'st not to Eternal Night
Fall back; yet thou that Body may n't indue
Which otherwise may granted be to you.
You may not pass into the upper Sphear,
To see the Glories, and the Wonders there,
If that you should upon the Orb below
Offer your Will, and thirsty mind to throw,
Till you shall flesh put off, Your mind and will
After th' Eternal world press forward still
Must, for there is fixation, and there
In Glory all the Saints new Bodies wear.
Therefore await the pleasure of that Love
Which in due time thy fleshly cloathes remove
Well, and that thou mayst never garments want,
Unto thy Soul a glorious Body grant.
Therefore thy mind upon SOPHIA set
That thou in brightnesse to her Court mayst get:

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She questionless whilst thou art here, will spread
Her Bounties, and showr down upon thy Head
Her everlasting Graces; nought deny'd
Shall be by her, who is design'd thy Bride.
But now surveigh thou shalt with thy own eyes,
The splendid Beauties of our PARADISE.

PARADYSUS.

This said he gave a Hand of blushing snow
Into the Pilgrim's; hand in hand they go,
Into a Labyrinth of rapting sweets,
Where Joy in an Ecstatic Rapture greets
His welcom'd Soul; where his amazed eyes
Saluted are with such varieties
Of all delightful Objects, that he knows
Not how for to Contemplate all he throws
His Orbs upon. So pleasing was that Book
That on which side he knew not first to look.
With cursory eyes at first them all he view'd,
And then his sight a second time renew'd.
The ayr was there serene, no clouds did dare
Upon his Cærule Marble Front appear;
Ten thousand smiles lay wrapped in that blew,
Which heats, nor colds, nor such strange changes knew.
One Temp'rament, the which no storms assail,
Nor winds disturb; a cool Zephyrian gale
Only salutes, was in that place; a still
Crystalline Dew, such as from Hermon Hill
Descends, fell on the Herbs, and Trees that there
In green, silver, and golden Robes appear.
Such silver clouds as made a Chariot
For Jesus when he from Mount Olivet
Flew to the Habitation of his Father,
Did here, and there with lustrous splendor gather,
Their Cynthean beams dispersing up and down,
In Circles, brighter than Ariadn's Crown.

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Th' Æternal Heaven's glorious beamings shon
Upon that Orb; an everlasting Sun
To it they were, which never 'rose nor set,
Nor changes here of Night and Day permit.
'Twas alwayes Day, 'twas alwayes Noon, it was
There alwayes Sun shine in that springing place.
All the Idea's of what we behold
Upon this Orb, shon there in purest gold,
In greater claritude, and brightness far
Than the Night's Goddess, or the evening Star.
O the sweet Joyes our Pilgrim's swelling Heart
Ready to burst, did to his eyes impart!
The Lively Rayes that darted were from them
Told that his Soul now bath'd In Joye's sweet Stream.

A verdant Meadow first did chear his eyes,
With several colour'd gay varieties;
Amongst the green were sparsed here and there,
Gold tincted Flowers: Purple, silver'd, fair
Blew, Yellow, Orange, Lilied white, and red,
With thousand Colours else the Earth bespread.
So rare a shew they made, so great delight
They gave that our Pilgrim ravish'd quite.
Alass our Rose though here she seem a Queen,
To Death her self would blush, had she but seen
How far the meanest Dasie here surpast,
And how her best blush by it was disgrac't.
Had but our Lilly been compar'd to those
Which there grew, she for shame her maiden snows
In melting tears would on the Earth have shed,
And sorrowful hung down her shamed Head.
Alass brisk Pink, or sel, or Blush compare,
But to the meanest of the flowers there,
Thou would'st be forc'd to yield the Palm to them,
And seem, as do to thee base Dasies seem.
Our sprightly Green-grass green, compar'd unto
That Grasse's lustre bears a yellow Hew,
And as much difference, or more is seen,
Than is 'twixt Autumn's yellow, and Springs green.
The Gold-strip'd Tulips which do court our eyes
In the first Spring, with rare varieties,

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Are but the shadows of those flowers which Grace
The Grass-green foot-stool of that happy place.
The Angel pressing hard the Pilgrim's Hand,
Se'st thou (sai'd He) how stil these flnowers do stand?
With what varieties they are indu'd?
How Beauty by each other is renew'd?
How comely all in order plac'd, do prayse
Their great Creator with their unheard Layes?
Just so the Saints do dwel, in this blest Sphear,
In such varieties, and Love appear.
No dissonant murmurs from their mouthes proceed,
Nor doth their difference, a difference breed:
For where would all their Beauties be, if they
Should not in various works themselves display?
All several beauties have, and yet they be
Though several Beauties, One, in Harmony.

But th'rough that place where Heav'nly Flora had
The Earth Cœlestial, with her beauties clad;
Where so many thousand painted Stars were seen,
For ever fixed in a sky of Green,
Run a soft River of dissolved Pearl,
Whose waves did into Crystal Ringlets 'twerle,
Without the help of blasts, for none came there
But what from Angels mouthes emitted were.
The Fount from whence this Crystal River came,
The Throne of God is, and the spotlesse Lamb;
From thence those streams which doth this River feed,
As clear as Crystal, soft as Wool proceed;
From th' upper Region unto this they flow,
Uniting Heav'n above, to Heav'n below.
Down Crystal Rocks, the Crystal Waters glide,
And pearly streams, o're pearly Pibbles slide,
Creating by their fals so pleasing noyses,
That they for Bases serve to Angels voyces.
On each side of the green-fring'd banks there grows,
The candid Lily, and the blushing Rose,
Fairer than e'r the Earthly Valley bore;
Pestum, nor Sharon e'r such sweets once wore.
The bleeding Hyacinths, and fond Narcisses,
Hung o're the bank, whose Heads the water kisses,

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Leaving her Pearls: for to renew their youth,
The precious Tokens of her moister Mouth.
Chaplets of Violets crown'd the River's brink,
Whose trembling blew heads of the Waters drink,
And for each sip, their purple mouthes receive,
They in requital their perfumes to give.
Into the Crystal stream the Angel goes,
And liquid Pearls upon our Pilgrim throws;
In Lifes blest Waters, in this Living stream,
Where Joyes on Waves ride he baptized him:
Where Blisse's kisses touch'd his skin, thus he
Knew what with Water 'twas baptiz'd to be.
His Ruby Lips drench'd in the Crystal waves
The blessed Water he with joy receives:
He freely drinks; and now he'l thirst no more.
After Earth's Riches, or her golden O're;
Her honours, pleasures, Gold, nor Silver, nor
A thousand Earthly Diadems compare
May with the least drop of this blessed stream:
No, they are dung to it, they Gold to them.
When out he came those Living Waves had thrown,
He saw, his youth and purile dayes again
Upon his back, his harder skin grew soft,
And his dimn'd eyes obstructing scales had dof't.
His feebled joynts, and leather nerves grew strong,
He went in old but now he comes out young,
He needs no Physic, this had all made good.
His Health restor'd, as well as youth renew'd.
Such virtue has this stream, which when he knew,
His head he humbly did to Jesus bow:
His Lips in prayses blest his holy Name,
Who him had counted worthy of the same.

But on each side the River, smiling stood
A Grove of Lawrels, and of taller Wood,
Whose blessed branches seem'd their heads to shake;
Unto the murmuring tones the waters make.
All Trees that we upon our Earth can spy
Grew there, in their essential purity;
The best of ours to the worst of them,
Would as the Hawthern to the Cherry seem,

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Or as the Bramble to the precious Vine,
Or as terrestrial Trees, to Trees divine.
No evil Tree, nor quality was there,
Divine (and yet substantial) they were.
When near our Pilgrim came, he cast his eyes
Upon these flourishing Trees of Paradise.
An Emrauld green upon their Leaves did dwell,
Which never from their happy Branches fell:
Some edg'd with silver, some were strip'd with Gold,
And Pearls instead of berries Bays did hold.
No Tree was barren, not a fruitless bough,
All sorts of fruit in purity there grew;
Sweet blossoms mingled with the riper fruit:
At once the Trees ware May's and August's suit.
A Crystal dew fell from th' Eternal sky,
Which on the Leaves like Eastern Pearls did lye:
A three-fold suit the verdant Branches wore;
For Pearls, fruit, flowers they together bore:
And when they mov'd, were by Angelic breath
A shower of Pearl they sent the heav'nly Earth.
But whilst our Pilgrim pleased with this sight
Gaz'd on these Groves, a gale did gently smite
The laded bows; from whose soft pressing them
More than Arabian Diapasma's came:
For every leaf as well as flower, and fruit
Such odor yields, as we have none like to 't.
Arabian gales which kisse the Spiceful Trees,
Breath Hireish odors if compar'd to these.
This gale of sweets did feast the Pilgrim's smel,
And makes amends for those foul blasts in Hell.
Led by his blessed Guardian, he Th'rough
Those verdant, and thrice sacred Groves doth go;
The boughs as he past by a whispering make,
And seem his welcome in their tongue to speak.
The Path with a green Velvet Carpet spread
Was; kissing Palmes and Lawrels ore his head
Arch'd a continual Bowr; a pleasant sound
More sweet than Philomelan strains, ran round
The blessed Wood, for on the tender sprays
Ten thousand Birds chaunt out continual Layes.

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But near the River stood a stately Tree,
Who Queen and Mistress seemed there to be,
The rest her servants, for they all stood there
At a meet distance, for to honour her.
This was the sacred Tree of Life, upon
Whose boughs twelve sorts of fruit immortal hung.
Spread was her arms, and lofty was her Head
Each golden branch her neighbour seem'd to wed,
And in an happy Conspiration, made
Upon the grass a very pleasing shade.
This was the Queen of Trees, the groves which there
So flourished, by her immortal were,
To her all Trees that in that place did grow,
Their verdure, beauty, and their Life did owe.
Strait, and superb was her blest Bole; each bough
Was drest in green, in gold, and silver too:
A radiant lustre from whose Leaves did rise
Which glitter'd through the groves of Paradise,
Memphean Balsom, nor their Mummie, can
So soon give ease unto distressed Man,
Or from destruction preserve so long,
As one blest Leaf which on those branches hung.
No desperate Disease, no mortal Wound,
There is, but for them strait a cure may found
Be in the least piece of a Leaf pul'd from
This sacred, and Salutiferous stemm,
The Panacea for all griefs; could men
But it attain: the dead should Live ag'en.
Alcinous's fruits, and the Hesperian,
Apples of Gold, though ten times better than
They were, are dung and dross if they compare
With the immortal Fruit these branches bare.
The fertil branches were for ever full,
Although ten times a day the Angels pull
The Fruit from every branch should, yet strait way
As full again they would their armes display.
To gather there would not decrease the store,
The more you gather, they encrease the more.
So did Zarephath's Widows meal, and oyl,
The more they eat, the more encrease the while.

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Here 'twas the Pilgrim in an extasie
Fell, when the Tree of Life his eyes did see,
No longer was he able to keep in
His narrow heart the joys which there did spring,
Ravish'd with the excess of the profound
Content, and Blisse he fell unto the ground:
His Soul then to his eyes was flown, and left
All other parts had of her powers bereft.
His eyes were fix'd upon that blessed Tree,
And thorough them his hungry Soul did flee;
They both so fast ty'd to the blessed Fruit
Were that he saw not those who now salute
Him did; he minded not their soft advance
Until the Angel pul'd him from his trance.
See here (and as he spake he rais'd him up)
The Heav'nly Dryads, a Nymphean Troop
Of the cœlestial Graces, hither come
To bid thee welcome are, unto their home.
This is their habitation, though they are
Pleased sometimes to see the lower Sphear,
Being thither sent, that they might helpful be
To heav'nly Pilgrim's, as they were to thee.

At these words then the Pilgrim cast his eyes,
Upon these blessed Nymphs of Paradise,
But their bright lustre so perstring'd his Orbs,
That he could scarce behold their Queen-like garbs.
Their Beauties here at full they did display,
For here 'twas lawful in this Orb of Day,
Where they did fear no ravishment, that might
Accrew to them by their rare Beauties fight.
Should mortals so in Earth their beauties spy,
They would be subject to Idolatry.
Hel's Stygian Hags, when they on Earth appear,
Fictitious Beauties on their Faces wear;
And all arts use, left mortal eyes should see
Their horrid genuine deformity.
But Paradises Nymphs dark Vailes do wear,
Because that Mortals cann't their Beauties bear,
So that on Earth, Hel's Haggs more fair do seem
With their false looks to blinded Man then them.

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So Lust, and Pride, so Heresie, and so
Craft, Guile, and subtilty more fair do show
To blinded mortals than Humility
Truth, simplenesse, and down-right Honesty.
But could Man see them in their proper Sphear,
He ever after would judge rightly here.
Those have their faces dipt in pitch, for hair
Ten thousand hissing, crawling Snakes they wear:
But these, whose beauties last, and ne'r grow old,
Shine brighter than the Sun, in Robes of Gold,
Crowns on their Heads, for every one is there
A Queen though servant in the lower Sphear.
So they appear'd now to our Pilgrim's eyes,
Cloath'd in the colours of blest Paradise;
Resplendant Halo's round their faces spread,
A Crown of gold, emboss't with Pearls the Head
Of every Nymph adorn'd; their Hair upon
Their shoulders like the beams of Phœbus shon.
More diamond sparkles in their eyes were seen,
Than has the third Orbs fair, and glittering Queen.
White, and red Roses in their cheeks did grow,
Ten thousand times surpassing those below:
Smoother, and redder than the Coral were
Their Lips; their breath sweeter than spiced ayr.
Most of them all below the Pilgrim had
Acquainted been with; but now they were clad
In Paradisaical Robes, now they did shew
W'thout Vailes their beauties, them he scarcely knew.
But whilst his wandering Light, encounter'd theirs,
TRUTH in the head before the rest appears,
And in the name of all, salutes him thus.
Hail happy Pilgrim! Welcome unto us,
VVelcome to us thou art, I to this place
Thee welcome, in the Name of every GRACE.
This is our Region, here's the place where we
Do dwel; these Groves our habitations be:
No flattery's here, no complemental, vain
Discordial welcomes: I did never fain
You know, believe me, as you 'ave ever done,
We do rejoyce that we may wait upon

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You in this Orb: therefore once more I shall
Thrice welcome bid you in the Name of all.
With this she bow'd, then clip'd the Pilgrim's neck,
And seal'd a kisse of welcome on his cheek.
To whom the Pilgrim smiling thus reply'd,
Dear Truth I never started yet aside
From what thou did'st command, I did believe
You stil; who'ld think that you would me deceive?
You nor my Guardian here (I blame you both)
Concerning this place told me all the Truth;
Though what you spake is true, that's not enough:
For what things find I you ne'r told me of?
Accuse us not replyed Truth again,
I hope you are not such a Tyrant grown
For to require us, that we should declare
Those things to you which past our reaches are.
'Tis not the Tongues of Angels that the joys
And pleasures can declare of Paradise:
And as it was beyond our power to shew,
So past our reach to comprehend them too.
Then blame us not dear Pilgrim if we be
Beyond, and better than our Word to thee.
With this th' affresh embrace, but then came up
To clip him too, all the nymphean Troop.
Round him they run, and it a great while was
E're his embraces to them all could pass.
There Wisdom clipt him, Innocency hung
Upon his arm; whilst Peace, and Meeknesse wrung
His fingers: Faith, and Zeal held fast his Hand,
Light, Joy, Hope, Life together round him stand:
Uprightnesse, and the fair Nymph CHASTITY,
Obedience, LOVE, and pure Virginity,
Embrace him too, so Lowlinesse, and she
Nymphs-Courage, and sweet-look'd Humility
Did their devoyrs: Then Resignation,
And Prophesie with others to him run,
All do him hug; he doth as much desire
The free embraces of this Virgin Quire.

As long, as ardent their embraces were
Nor could these outward signes their joyes declare,

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As fuel lay'd upon the rising flames
A while depresses; but in higher streams.
It causes strait the depress'd flames to rise;
So Love encreases by what satisfies.
After their eyes had their tongues place supply'd
A while, that charming Organ they unty'd.
And sprightly Joy, the first of all must know,
Whether that place would not a Tædium grow?
For every man his native Countrey best
(Said she) esteems, though he should daily feast
In highest pleasures in another, yet
His native home, though homely cann't forget.
Can Paradise make you forget the Earth
A place so hugg'd by man, your place of birth?
The Pilgrim smiling to the quærent then,
Sweetly, and nimbly thus return'd ag'en.
Terrestrial things to those which heav'nly are,
Not Earth, to Paradise must we compare.
Such difference is betwixt Earth's joys, and them
As is betwixt Æternity, and Time.
Were I in Ægypt, or in Palestine
With all delights; it may be I as mine
Own native Albion (though there poor and mean
I still should dwel) should not so well like them.
But now I'm come upon this blessed shore
I can long after Albion, no more
Than those who in the highest Heavens be
Can wish, or long the lower Orb to see.
So far transcendent are these joyes, that I
Account the whole World worthless vanity.
But your own Argument shall speak for me,
And prove that this place can no Tædium be.
Man loves his native Countrey best: And where
Is that I pray you, if it be not here?
He is a Pilgrim in the Orb below,
His Soul from higher Sphears came down we know;
Therefore so restless is she there, to come
From her low prison, to her native home.
Then can I of this Countrey weary be,
The genuine place of my Nativity?

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For Sin Man's banish'd, let him banish Sin,
And to his home he may return agen,
No, think not Nymphs, that I can weary be,
Of Paradise, and your bless'd Company.

But whilst this fair Corona stood, about,
(Discoursing sweetly with) our Pilgrim, out
Of a bright silver Cloud, an Angel stept,
Whose flaming Wings the spiced Æther swept:
So Lightning breaks from the unparted Clouds:
So Sol himself from 's nightly Robes unshrouds:
But he did swifter then the Lightning run,
And shew'd more glories then the Earthly Sun.
His flaming Wings him swifter than a thought
From the imperial skies among them brought.
Unto him bow'd the Graces all, and the
Guardian vail'd both his Wings, and bow'd his knee.
The Pilgrim also would have bow'd, but that
Excess of lustrous Glories struck him flat
Unto the Earth; for Mortal eyes could bear
Not half those Beauties he about him ware.
His Wings seem'd flames of Fire, or burnish'd Gold;
His Garments which down from his shoulders rould
Unto his feet, composed of pure Light,
Thinner than ayr, than Phæbus far more bright.
Unutterably bright the splendrous Sun
Was, that in 's eyes and Lovely Visage shun:
Volumns of streaming Gold hung on his neck,
A Crown of tadiant Stars his front did deck:
Meadows of Violets, Woods of Roses know
No such perfumes, which in his breath did flow,
But above all such Heav'nly Majesty,
And Power commanding sparkled in his eye,
That had a World of Mortals seen his face,
As dead they must have fal'n in the place.
But this Throne-Angel for the Pilgrim's sake,
A Cloak of silver Clouds flung on his back,
To hide his radiant Beams, which yet did flow
Th'rough it, and made it like the Iris show:
Such pleasing Tinctures to that Cloak they gave,
That though less dazling, yet it shew'd as brave.

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Repressing to his face's radiant flood
He shew'd in beauty like to flesh, and blood:
But Nature yet with her diviner art,
In her best pieces, of his face came short.
The Angel then stretch'd out his snowy right
Hand (snow for softnesse and for perfect white)
To th' Pilgrim, and lifting him up he brake
Silence, and thus in Heav'nly Accents spake.

Th' Immortal Prince of Glories, who of this
Fair Orb is King, and of the Thrones of Blisse,
At whose dispose ten thousand Crowns do lye
Of Glories, Blisse, and Immortality;
From whose free bounty we those Beams receive
Which such irradiant lustrous brightnesse give.
About whose Throne ten Millions such as I
Stand ready, on his Embassies to flye;
Hath sent me to thee, mighty Saint! that so
Thou's Will, and pleasure from my mouth mightst know:
He hath Commissionated me, that thou
Mightst tast his matchlesse Love, and Bounties now.
Therefore a Nuncius from the highest Sphear
I come, to thee this happy news to bear.
It is his Will, and pleasure now to prove
Himself indeed the matchlesse King of Love.
Thou precious art in his immortal Eyes,
And Heav'n it self he counts too small a prize
For thee; therefore to bright SOPHIA he
Intends that thou in Heav'n espous'd shalt be.
For this end therefore am I hither prest
To celebrate this Heavnly mariage Feast.
Down fell the Pilgrim on his humble knees,
And bowing thrice his head re-echo'd these.
If Heavens servants so perstringe the sight
Of mortals, who can see the Fount of Light?
What Beauties doth the King immortal wear!
When that his servants such high Lustre bear!
If that one beaming of a Star's so bright,
What is the Sun the Ocean of Light?
But what am I! that Heavens immortal King
Should notice take on me, so vile a thing!

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That from his Palace the bright Court of Day,
He should send down, a high cal cola.
Whom I'm more fit to serve, such news to bear
That mortal Man could never better hear?
O I'm unworthy of the Dignity,
But yet I dare not Heav'n's high Gifts deny,
Since 'tis his pleasure that it should be so
To him I passive bow my Head full low;
Who can deny the blessed Gifts of Heav'n
When Crowns, and Thrones, and blisse Æternal's given?
O Lord thou knowest what is best for me,
Since thou'lt exalt me, Ile exalted be!
As thou my joyes O Lord dost higher frame,
So greater strength grant me to prayse thy Name.

More would the Pilgrim there have said, but that
The Angel rais'd him up to Celebrate
Love's glorious Banquet; which blest Banquet was
The Confarreation 'twixt him and his Spouse.
Under the Covert of Life's blessed Tree,
Upon the Leek-green grass this Company
Sat down; each blade its top doth bow to them,
Each flower seeks to kiss their garments hemm.
There 'twas as if the flowers conspired had
To starr the place; or with their bravery clad
This little spot above the rest; for here
May's, June's, and Augusts flowers together were.
An hundred teeming Springs seem'd here their flowers
To have brought forth help'd by the Midwife-showers.
Their bowing Heads which did in clusters meet,
Their gallant tufts to purple Cushions fit:
Heav'n's Paranymphus first sat down, and then
The Pilgrim, and his Loving Guardian:
The Paradysical Bevy in a Ring
Upon the inviting flowers themselves did fling
Making a circle, in whose midst was seen
A round spot cover'd with Smaragdine green,
Which Carpet garnish'd was with flowers, which there
Into true True Loves Knots conspired were:
A thousand Crystal drops of dew, the grass
Lading, did silver; Gemm, and Pearl the place.

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More pleasing Objects far our Pilgrim's sight
To feast, and Banquet to the full invite;
A Troop of Heav'nly Dapifers they were,
Surcharg'd with Chargers who the Feast infer;
And with Cœlestial art the Dishes plac'd,
The Pilgrim they with their attendance grace'd.
The Pilgrim's greedy eyes now on the meat
They brought, now on the bringers ravish'd eat,
Sometimes to that, sometimes to these he tost
Them, and them in Beauties Meandres lost:
By 's feeding eyes his Soul took her first tast
Of the rare Sweets of this delicious Feast,
Where the five Sences altogether dine,
And filled are at once with meat divine.
These were a Chore of Angels of that Sphear,
Who in their brightest Robes to day appear
To grace Love's Banquet; and themselves they clad
With all the glories the Ælisium had.
Yellow Electrum hung upon their hair,
Whose aubourn threads conspir'd int' Circles were,
Amongst whose gold-Rings silver spangles lay,
Whose Star-like twinkling made a kind of day,
And rais'd an Halos round about their Heads,
Which Cynthian lustres gave to those bright threads:
Whose golden Woods (whilst the Zephyrian shocks
Ruffle the Volumns of their Amber-locks)
Yield such a fragor, that all Arabie
With all her sweets cann't reach the tenth degree.
Chaplets of Roses, mixt with Lillies, fair
And purple Violets, bound their golden Hair:
Under whose blushing shades the Day did rise
From the bright beamings of their sparkling eyes.
But in their cheeks Roses, and Lillies be
Wedded together in just Harmony:
And 'cause the Lily reigned in their hands,
In their sweet Lips the Rose as Mistress stands.
Upon their Fronts dwelt the all-charming Graces,
An everlasting Hebe in their Faces:
Their youth, and beauty strove, but by their strife,
As friends, not foes they gave each other Life.

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But the fair Robes with which they then were clad,
Of Paradises silver Clouds were made,
Garnish'd with divers colours: less the bow
Of fair Thaumantis to the World doth show:
And far less Beauties doth it give, than those
Which sweetly triumph'd in their splendid cloaths.
In these fair Mazes lost our Pilgrim was,
And to draw thence his eyes no power he has.

But whilst in Beauties Labyrinth his eyes
Do tread, melodious sounds his eares surprize,
Which prove a cliew to lead him from his gaze,
And out of that into another Maze;
His Soul but now did issue at his eye,
Out of both eyes, and eares she now doth flye.
For th' Angel having ta'ne their Cue, by pairs
The Hymenæum sung in sweetest ayres:
The Waters, Groves, and birds do all agree,
Ecchoing their Melos to their Symphonie.
The sweet Symplones with the Angels joyn,
Marying their voyces in a Tune divine
They sing this Hillulim: mortals below
Did ne'r such sweet Harmonious Voyces know.
The schreeking Sphears were silent at that time,
And by their musick learn'd a better Chime.

THE EPITHALAMIUM.

After sad Winter springs the Spring,
The Day thrusts, out the Night,
Storm past the pretty Birds do sing,
The Skies their muffling Mantles fling
Away, and cheer Earth with their sight.

After the floating Ship hath past
A thousand dangers, she
Thorow the surging Waves, at last
Doth Anchor in the Haven cast,
And there rests in Security.

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So after an hard Pilgrimage
Th'row Earth, and Hell, there is
Joyes that the Travellers engage
For to forget their Earthly stage,
And evermore remain in Blisse.

This is the Day the Sun doth rise,
The cheering Morn appears,
And Light springs from SOPHIA'S eyes,
Which blesseth all our Paradise,
And joyes unto this mariage bears,

This is the Time of Joyes, and Prayse,
True Laud therefore be given
To Him, who is the Light of Dayes,
Who to himself the Soul doth raise,
And Earth despised, Wed to Heav'n.

SOPHIA is the Queen of Love,
Her Joyes Æternal be:
Bless'd Souls within her bosom move,
For ever tast the Blisse above,
Enjoying all Felicity.

This is the mariage of the Lamb,
The Lamb of Purity,
Who from the highest Heavens came,
Brought forth Æternity in Time,
That Souls this Wedding day might see.

Fears are for ever wip'd away,
Sighs from their Breasts are fled,
And happy evermore are they,
Who can attain this mariage Day,
And are unto SOPHIA Wed.

All happinesse attends on thee,
No sorrows shall annoy
Sophia's Armes thy Comforts be,

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Her Breast thy true Felicity,
And in her eyes rests all thy joy.

Blest be this Day! thrice blessed is,
This hour, this mariage Feast,
For thou shalt Live in Paradise,
In everlasting Joyes and Bliss,
And be by thy Love ever blest.

Prayse to SOPHIA then we give,
And Hallalujah's sing:
By whom we in this Sphear do Live,
Who Souls from Earth to Heav'n reprieve.
And deignes them to her home to bring.

Let Hallalujah's be our Song!
O may Sophia deigne!
With her all-quick'ning Breath among
Us, now to cast her odors strong,
And on us her spic'd shewers rain.

Hallalujah's to the bless'd Name
For evermore we sing.
May it our warbling Tongues inflame
O thou who didst this mariage frame,
Accept these offerings that we bring.

Hallalujah, Hallalujah!
Hallalujah we cry,
Hallalujah, Hallalujah!
Our Tongues for ever warble may,
Thus unto all Æternity!

Their Heav'nly voyces charm'd the Pilgrim's eares,
With such like Songs, and animated ayres:
But now they double their sweet melody,
And wrap him int' an higher extasie:
For every one takes his cœlestial Lyre,
And runs divisions on the silver wire,

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Gently their fingers chime the speaking Chords,
To which they marry Symphonizing words:
The Babe that sprung from this Conjunction,
Was Ravishment, and Admiration.
Earth's sweetest voyces to their voyces are,
Like the hoarse squeeking of a new-made Car.
Linu's, and Orpheu's skil surpast was here,
So was the charming musick of the Sphear;
Each whispering accent on its mounting wings,
To Paradise's highest summet brings
The Pilgrim's Soul; to Heav'n's high Thrones she ran
Rais'd by the measures of their JASIAN.
Their Lydian straines his Heart exhilerate,
And with divinest Joyes it animate.
But whether pleas'd him most their Tongues, or Lyres
He doubts; both charm him, and he both admires.
Their Tongues, and Fingers sweetly there do vie,
Epods the one, the other Melody
Bring to contend; but being sweetly joyn'd
An happy Concord in their strife they find.
For whilst their Scarlet Tongues in quavering Notes
A sweet concent breath from their sounding Throats,
And trembling strings their nimble fingers shake,
And a Symphosiac Diapason make.
Both gently strike the circumambient Ayr,
And sweetly kiss, and feast the Pilgrim's Ear:
Beauty his eyes, his Ears their musick feed,
And out of both, by both's Soul's ravished.

Whilst thus divinely learned measures they
Upon their Timbrels, and their Harps do play.
And whilst their prayse-tipt Tongues the ecchoing
Groves, with divinest accents make to ring;
Clouds of Perfumes, and sweetest Spices come
From their mouthes hollow aromatick room:
These spice the ayr: musk amber-greece and Mirrh,
In one breath sweetly mix'd together were.
A gentle Zepher muster'd in a trice
Together, all the sweets of Paradise,
(For unto every Tree, and flower he flew
Kissing them sweetly, all their fragors drew

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Into's inodorated mouth) and there
With sweet Ambrosiac Odors fil'd the fire.
Not all the Spices of Arabia,
Aloes, nor Casha, nor strong Spieknard may,
With all the sweet Perfumes the Earth doth bear
With these so redolent bless'd sweets compare.
Nor Cloves, nor Cinnamon's sweet fragrancies,
Nor Liban's Cedars may compare to these.
Perfumes of Roses, Pinks, and Violets
Of sweetest Flowers, and of choysest sets.
Of Lilies, Oringes, and every thing
In Paradise, with every blast took wing,
And sweetly joyned take without offence,
The Ivory portals of his smelling sence:
This fresh assault of Odors strongly prest
To ravishment, the Pilgrim's smelling feast.

But now the costly dishes that were there
As'k him why they so long neglected were;
Their Beauties promis'd that they there should meet
More ravishments than he had tasted yet.
Upon them all his doubtful eyes he cast,
Musing on which he should begin to tast.
Each with a several beauty courts his sight,
And all to tast with equal force invite:
But whilst he mus'd, a Cup fil'd to the brim
The Angel took, and sipt, and gave it him:
'Twas sprightful NECTAR such as Saints above,
And all the angellic Chore to drink doth Love.
Unto the brim the sparking Liquor skips,
And blushing deeper than the Pilgrim's Lips,
Invites them to the Boul; they straitways joyn,
And down he takes that Boul of Heav'nly Wine.
Nor Spain, nor Greece, nor hundred-City'd Creet
Could ever boast of Liquor half so sweet.
A golden Patin with Ambrosia,
His beauties next did to his eyes display:
On it he feeds: Madera sugars are
Sut both in tast, and hew if you compare
Them, to the Ambrosiac meat: a thousand sweets
At every tast, his softer pallat meets.

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The bread of Life stood in the second place,
Whiter than snow, upon a golden Vase.
Then Heav'nly Manna in a silver plate,
With littering Beauties did invite to eat;
Like to the silver dewy drops in May,
Congeal'd a little in the plate it lay,
But so delicious was the tast of it,
That he was ravished at every bit.
This is the Angels food, their daily Bread,
By which for ever, they in Heaven are fed.
Milk, Honey, Oyl divinely mixt were there
To nourish, Comfort, and the Spirits cheer:
'Twas Virgin's Milk, and Virgin Honey too,
Not fabl'd Juno's had so fair an hew,
Which pav'd Galaxia: Nor Palestine
E'r flow'd with Milk, and Honey so divine.
The Muses birds from every flower do bear
Gall, if their Mel you unto this compare:
Nor ever did the Hæmetian Mountain hold
Such dulcified streams of liquid Gold.
Minerva's Liquor bears a sooty foyl,
If once compar'd with this cœlestial Oyl.
Full Bouls of Heav'nly Nectar crown the board;
Cups full of Milk of the Æternal Word
Scaturiant stand, whose purer White out-goes
The fairest Lillies, or the Alpine snows.
The Cups to smile with liquid silver seem;
Or Pearls dissolv'd; or Cleopatra's gemm:
But they more rich, and costly Treasures hold,
Than either liquid Silver, Pearl, or Gold.
The Sugar, nor the Honey founts of Creet,
And Hybla, could a messe make half so sweet,
As was that Nectarized Milk; for there
All Paradise's sweets commixed were.
A score of crystal Phials, fil'd with the
Best Aqua-vitæ, and of Purity
Stood also there; whose Crystal Liquor shon
More fair than all the silver of the Moon.
This was the Water of Æternal Life,
(The everlasting Fire's most happy Wife)

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Ta'ne from that source, whose crystallized streams
Pearl Life's fair Trees, Roots with their matchless gemm.
The Springs of Bethlehem, which did David please,
No better were than Mirah's unto these:
The limpid Jordan though so clear he seem,
To these shews, as Asphaltes shews to him:
Sampson's strange Spring with which he quencht his thirst,
Nor Mose's stream which from the Rock did burst,
Could match these Ever-living Streames, one drop
Of these it was that made those Springs burst up:
One drop of these fair Waves 'tis gives unto
All Rivers, all the Crystal they indue.
Neighbours to these Cups of Obryziam Gold,
More precious than that of Ophir, hold
Dew, far more sweet than that which doth distil,
From the sweet flowers upon HERMON Till.
From mystic SION'S sweetest flowers: this,
By Angels hands fresh daily gathered is;
And all the Graces which did grace the Feast,
These twice bless'd Dews had by their Labour blest:
For from fair Paradise's Trees, and flowers,
They had shook these (more than Argolic) showers:
From off the trembling Leaves, they shook the drops
Of purest Crystal into golden Cups,
Where a thousand crowded Pearls into one rold,
Shew'd like a fair one clasp'd in ductil Gold.
Deeply of these, the happy Pilgrim sips,
And drenches oft his Nectarized Lips:
All mortal Waters this Azanium
Did loathsome, and distastful make to him;
And far more truly may this phrased be,
Than the Italians Christi Lachrimæ.
His Tears, nor Blood were wanting there, for in
Most sumptuous Craters did that Liquor swim,
Whose tast, and colour did by far excel
The sweet, and deep-dy'd Cretian Muscadel:
That sacred drink he also freely sips,
Which adds more Scarlet to his blushing Lips.

Besides all these upon the board did croud,
Of Paradise's Fruit a multitude;

264

Whose sweetest looks, as well the eyes delight,
As their deliciousnesse the appetite.
No Salgama's, nor yet Preserves express
Can half the tythe of their deliciousness;
Nothing of Earthly acritude was there,
Nothing of sharp, or bitter did appear,
All were delicious, and did sweetly vye
For to delight, with their variety.
All to excel the Pilgrim thought: His tast
Still gave the style of sweetest to the last,
Till he another tasted had; When it
With sweet delight made him the last forget:
So till he almost filled Was he guest
The last he tasted, still to be the best,
But then at last he could not but confesse
His judgement lost in their deliciousness.
Would that the Earth had colours that could suit
For to express the beauty of the Fruit:
Scarce can that Bow, seen in the clouded ayr,
Its Opals with the shades of these compare,
Nor the three-squar'd Glasses varieties,
(Which doth at once both please and hurt the eyes
With the reflection) can represent,
The shade of Paradise's Complement.
Man may by these some faint reflections frame,
But his Idea's cann't come near the same;
And those who have it seen do say they cann't,
Express the beauty of the meanest Plant.
Our slick, and scarlet Cherries nothing were,
Could they with blushes make themselves more fair;
Should they stand by the fruit of Paradise.
They would be rob'd of all their braveries.
The Honey-sweet, and Purple grape would grow
Bitter, and lose her Purple garments too;
Our yellow Apples with their painted cheeks,
Would pale their yellow, and their golden streeks:
All June's, and August's gallant braveries,
One single Fruit our Pilgrim eat outvies.
Sweet Thymiama's and Arabian Spice,
Dwelt in the sacred Fruit of Paradise.

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So that at once those sacred Fruits did feast,
Three Sences, both the eye, the smel, the tast:
Between which three his Judgement was so tost
That he was dubious, which was feasted most.

The sacred Graces which this feast did Crown,
Had there a Heav'nly Banquet of their own,
Such food it was on which they daily fed;
And this before the Pilgrim too they spread.
'Twas fruit of Life's fair Tree, which they from thence
Had taken for their daily sustenance.
Their smiling Joy's, and secred Peace's fruit,
With Hope's, and Faith's together sweetly suit:
There were the apples of blest Chastity,
The daily Food of sweet Simplicity;
The Fruit of Love, and that which Innocence
Did daily feed on: That which Patience
Most Lov'd; and that so satisfying meat,
Which Meekness, and bless'd Temperance did eat;
Brotherly Kindnesse, Single-mindednesse,
And many more which there his eyes did bless.
The Lovely Fruit with such sweet charmes did greet
His fixed eyes, that he fell soon to eat
On every Dish; so pleasing was the Food,
The more he eat of it, the more he cou'd:
Its sweetness could not cloy, and every bit
Gave satisfaction, and desire of it
Encreas'd at once; in every bit there lay
Life-Honey, Manna, and Ambrosia.

But now four trines of blessed Angels bring
The second course of this sweet Banquet in;
Each one between his Snow-white Hands did hold
A Dish, whose mettal purer was than Gold
Seav'n times try'd o're; the quintessence of that
Would be less pure and immaculate:
They were all fram'd of Gemms of Paradise,
Whose Sun-like Lustres did persttinge the eyes.
Not Epicurean Feasts, nor the profuse
Symposiums of wanton Syracuse,
Nor Sybaritic, nor all Asia's fare,
Might with what in those Dishes lay compare:

266

No, if all Lands, and Seas conspired were,
To feast a Monarch with their choysest chear,
And should they bring th' Hesperian golden Fruit,
Or rob Alcinou's Orchard 'twould not do 't:
Kings may command Earth's Dainties to their board,
But such as these, nor Earth, nor Seas afford.
Apples they were though not of massy Gold,
Yet far more rich, and fair for to behold;
Their full-blown Beauties did attract the eye,
Chearing the Spirits with their bravery,
For Gold, and Silver, and the blushing Queen
Of Flowers, lay involv'd of Beds of green:
The verdant Leaves espoused to the Fruits,
Gave them green Mantles to their Pinky Suits;
So all the dainties of sweet smiling May,
With Autumn's fair exuberances lay.
But whilst the Pilgrim's eyes content doth take
In their fair looks: thus t'him the Angel spake
Immediatly the Birds surcease their noyse,
To hear the sweeter musick of his Voyce.

Now shalt thou by experience confess,
The Way to Wisdom is th'row foolishnesse,
At least by that which so the World doth Call,
Who miscall all things ever since the fall.
Thou hast by all a Fool accounted been,
Who superficiously thy paths have seen;
What greater foolishness can be to them,
Than all the World, and its Sweets to contemn?
Who leaves the World's High Wayes though ne'r so wise,
Still subject to Fools Category Lyes:
But it O Pilgrim! granted is to thee,
That Heav'n's Archimagus thou shalt be.
Seest thou those Lovely Fruits, whose Rosie dye,
And hew, their Complements shew to thy eye,
But when their inward vertues thou shalt know,
Thou'lt say one 's worth exceeds all Earth's below.
These lovely Fruits which are before thee spread,
For thy sake from Life's Tree was gathered,
Jesus commanded that it so should be
For to express his mighty Love to thee.

267

And this excess of Love bespeaks, for why
But very few did ever feed so high.
But our great King now in these latter dayes,
Some to the highest pitch of Power will raise,
To match those Mortals who in Hell beneath
Feed on the Magic Fruit o'th' Tree of Death:
And as Hel's Powers increase so theirs shall rise,
Who feed on Life's blest Fruit, in Paradise.
For once before Christ's great appearing Day
Shall be; both Kingdoms shall their might display
On the Terrestrial Orb: The Dragon shall
Sore to the skies to have the greater fall.
This is a special favour to thee shown,
For tho, that many to this place have flown,
And that the long Arm of Humility
Hath reach'd them many Fruits of Life's fair Tree,
Yet these fair fruits they never tasted; they
Could only with their eyes feed on their gay.
Many may unto Paradise attain,
And other Fruit of Life's blest Tree may gain,
And yet may not permitted be to tast
These blessed Fruits, which thou so freely mayst.
God's gifts they are, and his Arcana's be;
The very choyce of all his Treasury.
All fitted are not for so deep a Feast,
Christ the sole Giver knows for whom 'tis best.
The Tree of Life hath divers sorts of Fruit,
Which with all tempers, and conditions suit;
All that may be for Man's own happiness
All that come here may eat; but these oppress
Peculiarly above the rest, the might,
Glory, and strength of the great Prince of Light.
The Tree of Life mounts up her towring Head,
Unto th' Æternal World, from hence doth spread
Her laden Armes, and on her upper bough
These Theamagical twelve fruits do grow;
From thence these Angels brought them: what they are
And what their Virtues, I'le to thee declare.

O Man! Can Time contain Æternity?
Or can it comprehend the Deity?

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Can God grow old, or feeble? Time, or age
Immortal Srength, to languishment engage?
Is God's all-powerful Arm now weaker grown,
Than in those Ages which are past, and flown?
That thou thus boldly (O degenerate!)
That Miracles are ceas'd, dost prædicate?
E're since the World did from a Chaos spring,
Upon its Theatre, God still did bring
His acts of Wonder, spreading them abroad
As Witnesses to all there was a God:
All ages of the World can testifie
Those matchless Wonders of the Deity,
But why less frequent in these later times,
Is cause of Mortals unbelieving Crimes,
Faith now is wanting; whosoever hath
That, may do Wonders: with a grain of Faith
Rocks may be mov'd: the Seas divided, and
Earth's floted o're, the Ocean made dry Land.
Man's unbelief, and much unworthiness,
Has caus'd exuberant Miracles to cease,
But yet these later dayes so barren grown
Are not, but they true miracles have shown:
The Romish Church (although Priests often fain
Some; through the cursed thirst of rotten gain)
True miracles has seen. O Man! despise
Not all; because some Priests have forged Lyes:
For nothing is to thee more dangerous
Than to say, what God doth Belzebub does.
But to that pass men now adayes are grown
That they no miracles at all will own,
But if ought pass beyond their apprehension,
They strait cry out it is black Hel's invention;
As if th' Immortal King to Hell had given
The glorious Wonder-working Power of Heaven,
Or had resign'd to him his right, or swore
Never to shew his Arm of Wonders more.
Long shall not Man retain these thoughts, for why
As Lightning breaketh th'rough the Crystal Sky,
So shall miraculous Wonders have a birth;
And with new Light illuminate the Earth;

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And shew that Heav'n's Magitians can do
More than Belzebub, or his Magi too.
For those who eat shall on these fruits you see,
Shall only God's true sacred Magi be;
And these shall make them so: thou shalt be one,
Their several virtues therefore shall be shown.
Seest thou that Dish? those fruits in Scarlet dy'd?
Who seem to brave it in Pomona's pride:
Such is their virtue that they far excel
In giving Eloquence the Clarean Well.
Hermes himself less Eloquent shall be
Than those, whose Tongues these tip with swavity.
These tasted, strait the Tongue-ty'd sweetly speaks,
And all impediments assunder breaks:
Tongues stammering strings are scru'd to Heav'nly strains,
The blattering Mouth the highest Measures gains:
They to the Eater straitwayes do dispence
The divine accents of true Eloquence.
Rhetoric Honey through their Lips do speed
And such are termed golden-Mouth'd indeed.
Their virtue's ty'd not to one Tongue alone,
It the true Grammar of all Tongues makes known,
And in a Moment the unlearned'st Man,
Can teach the deepest Characters to scan,
And make him speak all Languages that are,
More smoothly than his own vernacular.
To Mose's Mouth, the fluent Aaron, this
Fruit granted was, for the Isachians Blisse:
This sacred Fruits high Virtue, did imbue
A many of the holy Prophets too,
Whereby in charming Notes they did diffuse
God's sacred Word unto the stubborn Jewes.
The holy Spirit when in cloven flame
He on the Heads of the Apostles came,
Touched their Tongues with this Fruits sacred juyce,
And of all Tongues they straitwayes had the use:
Such is the virtue of this matchlesse Fruit,
Unless by those that are adjoyning to 't.

But mark that next Dish, where green Leaves inclose
Fruit which in scarlet Robes out-braves the Rose:

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So fulgent Rubies court, and charm the eye,
When with clear Smuragds they invelop'd lye;
The Pestum flower peeps th'row her infant Skreen,
With paler blushes, wrap'd with duller green.
The juyce of these impregnates strait the Brain,
Not with discourses Kicksie, nor with vain
Disputes: true Logic art it doth diffuse,
And teaches Syllogisms how to use
For Heav'n's own int'rest: True Dilemma's too
Can by infusion to the Taster shew.
This doth the understanding purge; the eye
O'th' Soul, the Mind from Motes do purifie:
This Reason doth illuminate, and shews
How the true Dialectic Art to use:
Reason's corruptions, spots, and fallacies
This purgeth out: and gives it purer eyes.
This giveth Armes unto Truth's Champions, and
Inables them in Dispute's Wars to stand.
This unto Paul was borne by some of us,
When He with Beasts battail'd at Ephesus:
By this at Athens, to the Schoole he flew,
And th' Epicures, and Stoicks overthrew
With solid Arguments. This means did show
His persecutors how to overthrow:
The Jewish Rabbies, Gentile Doctors, Mute
At last were made: 'gainst him was no dispute.

That third Dish where in Seas of Beauties wallow
The slick-skin fruits; bestrip't with Red, and Yellow;
Screening their Virtues, in a double fold,
Of Crimson, Satin, and of yellow Gold:
The ground is Gold, upon whose face is spread
A thousand striplets of a grain-dy'd Red.
That Dish contains fruit of unvalued prize,
Whose sacred virtue makes man truly wise.
That Magic makes, and true Philosophers,
That Wisdom, and true Knowledge still infers.
Those Fruits unlock the fast-shut Cabinet
Of Nature, and her Treasures open set:
Nature's true Jewels rol'd in pitch do lye,
Not to be seen but by an Heav'nly Eye

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And such an one these give: an Eye that looks
Upon, and reads her most mysterious Books.
An Eye that thorow Neptune's Region goes,
And all things in his brinish Kingdom knows,
An Eye that walketh thorow all the Mines,
An Eye that to Earth's solid Centre shines:
An Eye which doth perspicuously see,
What virtues, in all Vegitables be;
That the true Nature of all things that grow,
From the tall Cedar, to the shrub, doth know:
An Eye that from the Earth to Heav'n doth rise,
And rangeth th'rough the myst'ries of the Skies:
That views the stations of the Wanderers,
That sees the mansion of the Northern Bears:
That knows the nature of those glittering Fires,
That reads their Lectures: and Heav'n's Hand admires;
That knows their good, and evil influence,
They on the World, and Mortals do dispence;
That knows the causes of all natural things,
Seas, and Earth's motions, and the Winds swift wings;
The streaming Metours, and the blazing Stars,
The hairy Comets sad predicts of Wars;
That truly sees, and knoweth all the parts
O'th' Ptolomic, and Eucledean Arts.
These sacred Fruits besides all these disclose
Nature's hid Magic, which th' unwise oppose,
The Ancients wisdom, whereby they could do
Things wonderful, yet natural, and true;
Not jugling tricks: nor by ill Spirits might,
But by Dame Nature's just, and sacred Light;
Almost extinct now in the World; unknown
'Cause men have sought præstigiæ of their own,
And following airy Notions caught the shade,
Whilst the true substance did their hands evade.
Such are the Virtues of these Fruits divine,
Which with such matchless lustrous Beauties shines.
Of these the Father of the Faithful eat,
Sucking true Wisdom from the blessed meat,
And those who liv'd nine Ages to descry
The Planets dances in the azure Skye.

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Great Salomon that mighty Magus had
His Wisdom and his Rnowledge from this food:
This sacred Fruit was lovely to his eyes,
For he this more than 's Crown, or Gold did prize.
He wisely said, For all things there a Time
Was; did but Mortals on the Earthly clime
Exactly know the same, they would not err
So oft, and toys to precious Gemms prefer:
Of Wisdom it no Mean part is to know,
The means not only but the Time to do:
For what these blessed Fruits so freely give,
Men in all Ages after deeply dive,
Nor is't unlawful for them to do so,
Did they true Time take, and right Wayes to go;
Else all is vanity: For what's all this
If Man should know 't, and yet ignore his Blisse?
On this the King pitched his Mind's clear eye,
When he cry'd out, all things are vanity.
What are these Jewels, though they Jewels be,
If Man's not lure of Æternity?
These are no means to gain the Heav'nly Race,
These are but Crowns for those that gaine the space.
They are unwise who first do seek those Arts,
Before that they have circumcis'd their Hearts:
For what they gain before is vanity,
What afterwards our King doth sanctifie.
What men acquire, they usually abuse it,
What Heav'n himself gives, he shews how to use it.
Let Man therefore the Time observe, and see
To gain Heav'n first: these but additions be.

The World's eye who in twice twelve hours, and four,
The mighty Moles of the Earth views o're.
In all her choysest Hort-yards cannot see
Fruits, half so fair, and precious as these be
Which in that neighbour Dish inchant the eye
With painted Robes, and fulvid bravery.
Those are Panchresta's for all ills of Man,
And who shall tast them shall Physitian
Be to himself and others; these impart
Both Æsculapius his, and Chiron's Art.

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As the Heraclian Stone draws iron, and
To rubbed Steel imparts the same Command,
So these with perfect Health do Man imbue,
And t'others make him Health's Physitian too.
Simples from his Hand ta'ne more virtues hold,
Than Bezoar or dissolved Pearl or Gold:
His touch, or Breath, or Word, or healing Eye,
May Physical Medicaments supply,
The Taster gaineth from these Fruits alone,
The healing virtue, and the med'cinal Stone.
Raphiel this juyce 'mong the Fishes Gall did scruse,
Which Tobit t'heal his Fathers sight did use.
Part of this Fruit was mix'd with that Perfume,
Which did the evil Spirit overcome.
King Hezekia's Figs which heal'd his sore,
This Fruits blest Liquor in their intrails bore.
By this Ælia's Life bestow'd upon
The widow of Zarepta's stone-dead Son.
By this Elisha did represse Life's flight,
And rais'd the Son, of the good Shunamite:
Some of this juyce he mingled with the Meal
Which did the Prophets poyson'd Pottage heal,
This in the crystal streams of Jordan lay,
When they wash'd Na'man's Leprosie away:
This mix'd was with the Salt, which cur'd, the so
Unwholsome Springs of pleasant Jerico.
This to the hemm of our King's garment dropt,
When by its touch the bloody issue stop'd:
This in his healing Spittle hidden lay,
When that he an Opthalmic made of clay;
Which eyes restored to the born-blind; and
This in his Breath made whole the wither'd Hand.
Great Jesus our thrice blessed King did feed
On all these Fruits which are before thee spread,
When he did flesh indue; But He that Food
Lik'd best, which most was for poor Mortals good,
Therefore he this us'd much; for through his Breath
Diffusing it; to Life he rais'd from Death:
He toth' Blind, Lame, Deaf, Dumb, Dead, power did give,
To see, to walk, to Hear, to speak, to Live.

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To the Bethsadæan Pool once every year,
One of my Brothers of this Fruit did bear,
Whose virtue to those Waters virtue gave
The sad afflicted from their pains to save.
Legs to a Cripple through this virtue Paul
At Lystra gave; Cur'd Eutichus his fall:
Healed himself; cur'd a possessed Maid:
Made Vipers hurtless: cur'd where's hand's were laid:
So the Disciples all; by this alone
Became Physitians unto every one.

That next Dish (prest with its exuberance
Of matchless Treasures, which their heaps advance
Above the low sides of the Pattin) seems
The chiefest Archive of Cœlestial gemms.
How thrust it is, that it can scarcely hold
Those silver apples in its purest Gold.
Preachers upon this sacred food should feed,
This makes Divines, to be divine indeed:
This keeps the Eaters Mouth from speaking wrong,
Gives sacred Truth a dwelling in his Tongue;
So chimes that Member that she utters, what
To pass in after ages shall be brought,
Makes Her so swift in Her predicting chime,
That she out-flyes the swiftest wings of Time;
By anti-Chronicles of things not done
Forestals the ages of the World to come:
Making his Linceous eyes to see so far
Things yet to come (like God) as if they were.

This to the Eater gives the golden Key
Which doth unlock the Letter's mysterie,
Which doth unseal the most mysterious Wells;
Which doth reveal Gemms hid in Parables.

This doth unfold the mysteries of the Night,
Visions appearing to th' internal sight;
When the eyes double-guarded porta's be
Fast locked up with Morpheu's Leaden Key:
When Night o're half the World in silence reignes,
Then noted Dreams Court undisturbed Brains.
These Fruits give oyl which oynt the Tongue, and make,
It in Petitions fervent, daily speak

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To Heav'n: and render Essences so strong
That in stout ardors move the heated Tongue,
And with such fervour call on Heav'n, that she
Ev'n forces him with importunity:
Such flagitations don't with Heav'n dissute,
When they rise from the virtue of this Fruit.
The Patriarch JACOB of this fruit did tast,
Before he gave unto his Sons, his last
Prophetic Blessings; wherein he relates
In Hieroglyphicks all their future fates.
This fruit of Najoth all the Prophets fed,
When Saul's fierce Nuncio's also prophesied:
And Saul, this (though unseen) when pressing through
His Lips, was also made a Prophet too.
This all those eat who to the Jews foretold
That Mortals should their God in flesh behold,
This gave them spiritual eyes to see, before
He came; that Jesus whom we all adore.
This Fruit was rolled, in Ezekiels Role,
This fruit was squeezed into Esdra's Bole,
This in the Leaves lay of John's Book, which He
Eat, with the promise He should Prophesie.
This Fruit Christ his Disciples granted too,
Whereby his words profunditly they knew.
Joseph, and Daniel also of it eat,
When of Kings Dreams interpreters they sat.
Elisha eat of this when he by Prayer
Stop'd up the watery Fountains of the ayr:
When he again by fervent prayer's power,
Chear'd the dry Earth with a continual showre:
When he from Heaven with like fervent cryes
Fetch'd Fire to consume the Sacrifice:
When he from Heaven Cœlestial Flames twice drew,
The which two Captains, and their fifties slew.
Such is the virtue of that fruit you see,
A Gemm more rich than all Mortality.

But view the next Dish: Did a greater prize
(And less than Heav'n it self) e'r bless thine eyes?
Could Aretusa's tempting fruit more please
Spectator's eyes, with greater gay than these?

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Doth golden TITAN rising from the main,
The gray-ey'd Morn with deeper Scarlet stain,
Than this which blushes on their cheeks or may
His Beams gild with a better Gold the Day?
What charmes upon their cheeks do lye! but see
Their equal measures raise their suavity;
How sweet a method in their make was seen!
See how their Gold, is chequered with green!
How passing sweet their outward beauties shine!
Nor are their inner beauties lesse divine.
Too long I cannot on these Eulogize;
Nor too much prayse their heav'nly suavities.
Heav'n's Choristers when they begin their Songs.
Of prayse; with this Fruit's juyce do oyl their Tongues:
The sacred Seriphs when they tune the Keyes
Of their shril Tongues, for everlasting prayse,
And Hallelujah's of this Fruit they eat,
Which doth their prayse-tip'd Tongues on fire set,
Whilst Sion's Harpers strike their trembling Chords,
Marying their Ayres unto their quavering Words.
All of us Love this Fruit, for it inspires
Our Songs; inflames our Tongues with Heav'nly Fires;
This Fruit it is which makes a Poet shine
And makes his Numbers, and himself divine:
This Fire inkindles in his noble breast,
Which makes him Loves lascivious layes detest:
Super-cœlestial are his harbour'd Fires,
His layes are tuned to the Angels Lyres:
Anthems divine, and spiritual Songs do bear
His soaring Soul unto the highest Sphear;
Ravishing Psalmes, and rapting Hymn's high Keyes,
From graver Epods up do often raise
His Soul; then with Ænthean fury, He
Makes Dis to tremble at his melody.
In this Fruit's juyce his lips he drenches, this
His Helicon, and Hippoctene is,
One draught of this sweet juyce can make him do,
More than the Muses, and Apollo too.
The Kingly Harper eat this blessed Food,
When Saul's ill Spirit he so sweetly chew'd;

277

By this inspir'd he wrote those Heav'nly Layes,
Those Hymns of Joyes, and those Psalmes of prayse.
This made the martyr'd Fathers often sing,
When scorching Flames their burning armes did fling
About their naked flesh; whilst furious kisses
Sent their rejoycing Souls to lasting Blisses.

That neighbour Pattin which transparent seems,
Doth also hold inestimable Gemms;
They apples are, although unto our sight,
Each one appears a big-swell'd Margarite;
The Persic gulf, nor yet the Eastern Seas,
Did ever Unions yield so fair as these:
Not all the Children of the Cheripo's
Could half the value match of one of those
Fair radiant Globes: whose lustrous beamings forth.
Sufficiently do testifie their worth.
These to the Eater give a Beam of Light,
A more than Lynx's eye, a piercing sight,
Which through the feigned Cloaks of Spirits can
See their true shapes, although they false put on.
Though Hel's Prince should his swarthy hide paint o're
With Virgin Beauties; though such wings he wore
As I have on: Should he Angellic cloathes
Put on, his visage paint with purest snows;
His Snakes to Amber Curles convert; his brow
His Horns pull'd in with pollish'd Ivory strow:
His jagged Teeth in order set, and from
His horrid Mouth breath nothing but Perfume,
His knotty tail tye round about his wast,
And over that ten snowy Mantles cast;
Pare all his clawes: hide his deformity,
And uglinesse, with borrow'd bravery:
And strive his utmost, egg'd by cunning hate,
Our speech, as well as cloathes to imitate;
Yet will this Fruit discover his deceit,
Lay ope the Monster, and make known his cheat.
The Eyes it gives cannot deceived be,
They th'row false paintings and adornments see,
Discern Impostors who usurp our room,
Descry Wolves which in borrow'd sheep-Skins come:

278

See Sathan's blacknesse th'rough his painted skin;
See th'row his Angels shape a Devil within.
Those eyes it gives, are acuous, and divine,
And know false borrow'd shapes, from genuine.
O how should Mortals for this fruit entreat!
Which frees them from the Stygian monsters cheat,
Which shews his fuco's, and his subtilties,
Heretic Errors, and prestigious Lyes,
Which though he cometh in an Angels dress,
Betrayes him to his genuine ugliness:
For want of this, good souls have been misled,
And into ills by false shapes ravished;
Those snares do most intangle which he uses,
When Mortals he under our shapes abuses.
By this bless'd Paul th' imposture's shape espi'd,
Although of Christ, and him he testify'd,
And having seen him he to Hell betray'd
Him, and deliver'd the Divining Maid.
By this the Infant Church had eyes to see,
Jesus from Idols, Truth from Heresie;
The cunning tricks, and wondrous subtilties,
Sathan still us'd to blind the Heathens eyes.
This then discover'd his impostrous cheats,
Made known fair Truth, and his most foul deceits.

The next though palenesse in their cheeks appear,
Lesse Lovely, nor of lesser virtues are:
How sweetly kissing in the Dish they lye!
These are the Apples of true unity:
This precious Fruit bears Adamantine glew
Can chain a thousand Hearts aswel as two.
With true-Love Links fast in a Knot together:
That Hell, nor all his Ramms shall break the tether.
'Twixt Spirits this frames a true unity,
And binds with bands of best Community;
An hundred Hearts it can so fastly bind,
That they shall seem but all one Heart, and mind.
This can do more: for the dread stroke of Fate
By this Friends heares link'd cannot separate.
It tyes immortal gives, though Death can slay
The Carcasse, yet cannot take these tyes away,

279

For spite of Death (their Souls together still
Being joyn'd) they visit one another will.
By this the Saints a sweet Communion have,
With those who long since past the silent Grave.
For Death, to a Communion spiritual,
To such is no impediment at all.
Those out of Bodies with perspicuous eyes
Can see Hel's plots, and cruel subtilties;
And to their Friends they oft permitted are,
Those precipies timely to declare.
By this the Patriarchs, the Apostles, the
Blest Saints, and all the Martyr'd Fathers, be
Alive to this Day, and by this alone,
Man may with them still have Communion:
Thus Friends divided by the Hand of Fate,
By this alone are made inseperate,
For this gives tyes that cannot broken be,
By the weak Hand of frail Mortality.
All the Apostles of this Fruit did tast,
Which link'd their Hearts so fast.
By this Communion with each other, they
Kept, though they o're the Earthly World did stray
Apart; and those who did survive the rest,
Communion kept with those whose Deaths were blest
By martyrdom; which Courage stout did give
To know the Blisse in which their souls did live.
Thus blessed Denis, joyn'd in unity,
After their Deaths did Paul, and Peter see,
Crown'd with glorious Crowns of sacred Light,
Array'd with Robes of more than snowy white.
By this Fruit thus they after Death, with one
Another held a strict Communion.

That golden Pattin which stands next to this,
Of Fruits with brightnesse cloath'd the Arca is:
Heave'n's brightest Tapers in the Skies do blaze
With lesser Lustre; and lesse sparkling Rayes,
Than these: whose beamings and illustrous shine,
Preach their own Beauties, and their Worth divine.
We much desire that man should feed on this
Illustrous Fruit; for by this Fruit he is

280

Acquainted with us: by this Fruit alone,
We have with Him, and He has union
With us: by this our several Hierarchies
Our Beauty, splendor, and Attires he sees.
To Man by this illustrous Fruit alone
Our Care; and kind Philanthropie is known.
Here (could our Heav'nly Joys permit us grieve)
I could Threnoda's sing, 'cause Men deceive
Themselves; to think its any's Fault but their
Own, that we do not now so oft appear
As we have done in former Ages; No
The fault's not Ours but theirs we do not so.
The Reason why so oft we do not presse
From Heav'n to Earth is Man's unworthinesse.
What else can Mortals think that it should be?
Cann't we be cloath'd with visibility
With as much ease, as then, think they? or now
Grown old with Time, do also lasie grow?
Think they the space 'twixt Earth, and Heav'n more
Large, and wide drawn than in times before?
Or do they think our Love diminished?
Or that they of our helps now have no need?
Or do they on our Maker lay the blame?
That he to former Ages than to them
More Love did shew? think they him partial, that
We did on those, and not on them do wait?
Or do they think our King has more to do
In Heav'n for us, that he cann't spare us now?
What is't that peevish Mortals think? what e're
They think, it is their sins that keep us here,
Seal'd from their eyes; which hide this blessed Fruit,
So that they know not which way to come to 't:
For could they eat of it, they often would
With pleasure us familiarly behold.
In Ages past when we so frequent were
With Men, and did in Humane shapes appear;
Simplicity, and Innocency reign
Did among Men, they knew not how to gain
By lying Miracles: their Natures all-
Most like to ouers were Angelical:

281

But after Sathan broach'd his vanities
Which men suck'd in; he under our disguise
Of them deceiv'd; so his delicious food
They fed upon supposing it was good:
So as their sins encreas'd we disappear'd;
Whilst Sathan of his Conquests Trophies rear'd,
Which he by feigning Angels shapes did gain:
Whereby we did to Man obscure remain.
This now continues, so man thought at last,
Our dispensat'on of Appearing past:
And now he boldly if we do appear
As we were wont, averrs we Devils are.
But blinded he is ignorant that this
Fruit, God's most sacred Fruit, and blessing is,
Which still is free as e'r it was for Man,
Were he but worthy to obtain the same.
Of this fruit 'twas those holy Men did tast,
With whom we had, in all the ages past
Communion: for who do eat of it
We are for them, and they for us made fit:
We then to such shall not as strangers be,
But much frequent each others company.

That Royal Fruit which in that Dish doth lye,
Whose very looks with Wonders, maze the eye,
In beauty, and in virtue shall give way
To none, which fed thy blessed eyes to day,
See but what charmes are spread upon their cheek,
Their hew, and make, their wondrous virtue speaks.
This fruit indeed a faithlesse Faith expels,
And giveth one of working Miracles.
The Eater shall nothing too hard suppose
To be effected by him: for by those
Mountains may be remov'd, Seas made a Plain,
And all the Champain floated with the Main.
All living Creatures, and inanimate
Obey his Word, who of this Fruit have eat:
He miracles shall truly do, although
Beelzebub's servants will not own them so,
Or if they do, with belching Mouthes outright
They cry, they're done by their own Master's might;

282

When by this Fruit they're down, which you behold,
As also were true miracles of old.
By this great Moses Power had to divide
The blushing Seas: by this was Jordan dry'd
Twice by Elisha's Mantle: The Command
Of Joshua still enforc'd the Sun to stand.
By this Fruit also great Amozides
Repel'd the Dayes great Giant ten degrees.
Of this Fruit also blessed Jesus eat,
When he so many Wonders did Compleat,
That many Volumns cannot comprehend
The tythe of them: his Wonders have no end.
By this the bless'd Apostles did effect
Their Miracles: Wonders with Wonders backt.
Great Thaumaturgus when the VVord he spake,
By this Fruits Virtue dryed up a Lake.
By this the latter ages not a few
Have Wonders done; and VVonders more shall do:
For time draws nigh wherein this Fruit shall then,
Not such a stranger be to Mortal Men.

The next Dish holds five glorious Apples, that
Man's five internal Sences animate,
The first whose beauties are so excellent
That plunge Spectators into ravishment,
Unlocks the crystal pyla's of the eye,
Permitting it Heav'n's Beauties to descry.
By that the inner eye hath oft a sight
In sacred Visions of Æternal Light
Of this bless'd place, and of the Throne of blisse,
Where our great King's immortal Splendor is.
By that we may be seen; by that the eyes
Behold the inner-VVorld's varieties:
And all the Spirits that created be,
In all the World's perspicuously see:
By this Elisha's servant's eyes unbarr'd
Were, when he saw his Master's fiery guard:
John's, Jame's, and Peter's when th' on Tabor saw
Elias, Christ; the Giver of the Law.

The second that in yellow Ornaments,
Doth ravish with a thousand blandishments,

283

Continually a golden Key doth bear
VVhich opes the Portals of the inner ear.
Through which the Sounds of Paradise do go,
And the cœlestial Harpers musique flow:
Th'row which the inner World's sweet Harmony,
And all the Angels mystic voyces fly.
By this young Samuel's tender eares were bor'd:
When he the voyce heard of our Soveraign Lord.
And divine John's, when he did hear the voyce,
Like to the rushing of enraged Seas.

The third which doth the Indian Nard excel,
Or all the spice of Arabie in smell,
The inner smelling Sence's gates doth wide
Set ope; th'row which Cœlestial Odors slide;
Th'row which the sweet Perfume of Paradise,
To cheer the Brain and Spirits sweetly flyes.

The fourth whose sweetnesse Honey far exceeds,
With dews of Paradise the Eater feeds;
By that the Manna of Jerusalem,
To tast is often granted unto him,
By that his tongue on food divine doth tast,
And's inner Palat on Heav'n's sweets doth feast.

The last whose slicknesse far exceeds the silk,
Whose snowy whitenesse far the purest milk,
Gives to the Eater sensibility
Of the Contactions of Divinity.
By it he feels those pleasant thrillings, which
His Soul with the extreamest Joyes enrich;
Those burning tinctures of the deepest Love
Which round his Heart with matchlesse pleasures move.
Of these three last the holy Saints did feed,
Be'ing granted to them in the time of need,
When persecution's mouth with all its power,
Sought them with cruel torments to devour,
Those then were Cordials to support the Hearts,
'Gainst persecution's cruel Flames, and Darts,

The lowest Dish which doth conclude the Feast,
Though it comes last, yet is it not the least;
The Fruit it holds is of such price, and Worth,
That it will lose much by my setting forth:

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Not all the Rhetoric an Angel has,
Sufficient is, this pretious Fruit to praise.
This is the Fruit that maketh Mortal Man
To be Jehovah's great Magitian,
Art-Magic this doth to the Eater shew,
And him with Heav'nly Sapience imbue:
Those Arts it gives are Sacred; and by this
A true Philosopher the Eater is.
In former Dayes this Fruit has frequent been
VVith Mortals, though it now is scarcely seen
Upon the Earth; for faithlesse they do call
All Geocy, that's supernatural:
As if that God in Earth resign'd his Right
Had unto Hell, or that his glorious Might
VVere to be ty'd, unto the poor dimention
Of shallow Man's more shallow comprehension.
This Art indeed to Man is scarcely known,
For at his back he has the Substance thrown
For to embrace meer shadows, or what's worse
Arts which upon their Students pull a Curse.
VVhat's all the Knowledge that the World affords,
But empty shadows, vain, and windy VVords?
This Art deserves the Name of Art alone,
Although to Man it be so little known;
In which are Depths, unfathomable, Seas
VVhere greatest Wits may swim, and if they please,
In which is something more than Notions; and
Things that with the sublimest Wits may stand.
Great Miracles this Magic-Art affords,
Not caus'd by joyning superstitious words,
But in the true Name of Jehovah all
Wonders are done, if truly magical.

But what's the Reason that this Art is lost,
And with it all true Sapience almost
Now in this latter, but yet wicked Times?
'Tis Man who hath obscur'd it with his crimes;
And subtle Sathan by his cunning: who
The Name of Wisdom makes a Bug-bear too.
Since Simon spoil'd the Name of Magus, all
Hell's Necromancers they Magitians call:

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A Name of Glory once, though now the same
Is by the World us'd as a Brand of shame.
What makes the World suppose, that there can be
No VVonder done but by Necromancy?
No action that is metaphysical
But men suppose it Diabollical?
What makes them that they do themselves deceive?
And that there's Magic that's divine believe
Will not? 'tis cause the worldly Wise have sought
To find it out and have effected nought.
How many are there who have sought to find
This sacred Fruit! yet they have proved blind,
And by the Devils subtle tricks have been
Turn'd from the Path, when they were rightly in.
Some they two dozen years have sat, or more,
(And were as wise then as they were before)
Reading (so long until they could not see)
The moldy Volumns of Antiquity:
Toying amongst that antiquated ware
To find the Stone of the Philosopher.
But such because they sought, and sought in vain,
VVith Lies maliciously the Truth arraign;
And 'cause they missed have their Aym, thy cry
There's no such thing: a meer deceit; A ly.
Such great Ablepsie doth in others brain
Lye, that they cannot see, though it be plain,
Before their eyes: and though it couched be
In mystic, and yet plain Philosophy.
True Books they have, but yet their blinking mind,
Among those Truths cannot the true way find,
No Philosophic VVritings, but they pore
Upon them, read, and turn them o're, and o're:
Plato they o're and o're so often turn
'Till with their Thummings he's in pieces worn.
And so they also with their fumbling fists,
Mouze all to pieces twenty Tresmegists.
Then Plotinus so often is turn'd o're,
And sullied, that they can read no more.
At last, their Patience being worn thred-bare,
VVith Aristotle they contented are;

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And on his Metaphysics groveling lye
Or soar no higher than the starry Sky:
Having in him once mounted a degree
Philosophers in fashion then they be:
Then these are wise men: why? because they know
The natural causes of some things below.
Not thus content they wrangling Sophists turn,
And at true wise men, and true Wisdom spurn.
But others with an Apetite canine
Fall to the Ægyptian mysterie divine
Couch'd in their Hieroglyphics: but such bones
They find to pick; that wearied; for the nonce
They cry, these painted pictures of deceit
Were only made Philosophers to cheat;
That under them no mysteries do lye,
Of Learning, nor yet of Divinity:
Thus vainest Fools do still calumniate,
Those sacred Reliques which they cann't come at;
Barking against them, in an angry tune,
Like churlish Currs that bait the fair-fac'd Morn.
Another sort (as wise as all the rest)
Their wits with the Arabian wise men feast,
And all the modern Wise men, where with pains
And diligence, they strive to crack their Brains.
Geber so oft mark'd with their nails is spil'd,
And Lully with black interlines is fil'd.
Arnold, and Riply with an hundred more,
Are with notes in the margent scribled o're.
From these now having gain'd a Theory,
They practice for the stone in Alchimie;
And having vapour'd all their Coyn in smoak
Their good Opinion of the Stone revoke,
Of whom some cry to others that they should
No longer be with vain Opinions fool'd.
For by experience wofully they find
There's no such Stone: And why? because they'r blind.
But others of them (who more spitefull are)
Because that they themselves deceived were,
Turn base Impostures, and the simple cheat
By many a jugling, and prestigious feat.

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Thus by imposture full of filthy shame,
They bring on Chymic Arts an odious Name.
Others of them do full as bad, or worse,
Cheating mens Wits as these do cheat their Purse,
For these desiring for to get a Name,
(No matter how, so they can purchase Fame)
Would fain be thought for to have gain'd the Stone
Which they forsooth will give to every one
Out of their charity, but lest profane
Men, and unworthy should this purchase gain,
They must write in an ænigmatic style,
Where they with simple fopperies beguile
Their studious Readers; and in mystic guise
Without controul invent a thousand Lies.
Then imitating some Philosophers,
Who might have Truths divine couch'd under theirs,
They talk of Dragons, black, and green, and Red,
Of mystic Virgins being brought to Bed,
Of maidens Milk of Caput Mortuums,
Of black turn'd white; then when the blessing comes
Their admonitions unto secresie,
Wish such like stuff and simple foppery:
Where Men may sooner find a Mine of Gold
Than in such Books a line of sence behold,
Which being seen the World cryes on them shame,
And 'cause of them all mystic Writings blame:
Thus by impostures tricks, and Knaveries,
The Truth's intangled with obscurities.
But others thinking these choyce Fruits to gain,
With tedious lucubrations, and pain
Have courted Princely Ptolomie to show
Them, in what place among the Stars they grow.
Then into Haly greedily they pry,
And search the shining Records of the Sky,
Visit the Poles; and all the Planets, and
Those Volumns penn'd by the Almightie's Hand;
But missing there the thing they sought for, they
Out of vexation fling their Books away;
Or else turn Prophets, and prognosticate,
Of Winds, Rains, snows, Subjects, and Rulers fate:

288

Who broaching ignorantly grosse mistakes
Make the Art evil spok'n of for their sakes.
Others there are which for this Fruit do seek
In the Meanders of Arithmetic,
Into those deep Arcana's down they dive
In Number's grave burying themselves alive,
Those speak by Figures, and by nodds least they,
Breaking their silence should themselves betray:
What mystic Monad, perfect Quadrats, Trines,
What double Numbers, and unlucky Signes
Of odd conjoyned Figures, and the like
They have! which in't amaze the unlearned strike:
But some whose patience worn out with their Book,
Into Pythag'ras can no longer look;
(Whose suppositious pamphlets in his Name
Which bring to that Philosopher great shame)
Cry out all is Deceit that Numbers be,
And all the Art but mystic Knavery.
And thus the World by witnesse testifies
Against the Truth hid in all mysteries.
Others notorious in their Notarie
Art, juggle with as simple Foppery,
Thinking this noble Magic may be took,
From the Loines of some suppositious Book
Of Apollonius, or of Salomon
Which these blind Dotards, dote too much upon.
These superstitious make a wondrous doe
With mystic Names of God, and words, not true,
Meerly invented with full sounds to awe
The Ignorant, with superstition's Law.
But when they see themselves beguiled by
This pious-fac'd-deceitful Theurgy,
They to the World with open mouth proclaim,
Their own Ablepsie, ignorance, and shame;
Whereby the sacred Hebrew mysteries
In Names too deep for them the blind despise.
Another sort of Men there is, who do
Long earnestly to be Magitians too,
Tritemiu's, and Agrippa's Books they get,
By which each Note, and Character they set

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In their due place; their Crosses, Lamens, and
Their Pentacles must all in order stand,
Their Tapors, Swords, and consecrated Oyl,
With other stuff (the easier to beguile
Themselves) they fit; assaulting by and by
The Camp of Devils with their Geocy.
How eas'ly to them doth the Devil yield,
And let them for his gain to win the Field,
Being commanded for a while, that he,
At last a Tyrant o're their Souls might be!
But some repenting timely did impart
Hel's cunning, and the Follies of that Art,
By which the World so fearful grew, and fell
To think all natural Magic came from Hell,
So Paracelsus, nor Agrippa, nor
More skil'd in natural Magic could prefer
Its Wonders to the World, but for their pains
They branded were for Hel's Magitians.
But others whom Hel's wretched Prince can gain,
With a black union their dear Souls to stain,
Dive to the botton of Hel's Arts, and there
Indeed great dark-Magitians appear:
These Necromancers freely he indues
With Wonder-working Pow'r, his Kingdom shews
To them: and triumphs greatly that he can,
Make known his Power by the arm of Man.
These can do Wonders, and the World amaze:
Such might on Man, mighty Belzebub lays:
Such was great Jannes, such was Mambres, or
Black Elymas, the wicked Sorcerer:
And such was Simon, who oft back'd a Cloud
And th'row the Ayr rode in his Chariot proud.
These Men the World with such great fear infected,
That mysteries divine became suspected,
Science was lost, and Ceremonies all,
Accounted were, or Diabollical,
Or superstitious, and the very Name
Of Magic tainted, odious became.
Thus divine Magic was obscured; and
Men won't believe, that Heav'n's all-mighty Hand

290

Can by his proper instrument disclose
His mighty Pow'r, Hel's Magi to oppose,
And that great Man, by Heav'n enabled, shew
Can, as great Wonders as all Hell can do.
But if such should appear the World would strait
Them, Hel's black Necromancers nominate,
Call us black Devils, or base Incubies
If they but hear that Man our Faces sees:
Thus you may see how Men themselves do cheat,
With Fear, and the opinion of Deceit.
Thus Truth, and the true magic that's divine,
Wrap'd o're with pitch, alone doth inly shine:
And is a Jewel lock'd up from the VVorld
That so much Durt, and mire at it has hurl'd.

But don't you wonder what the reason is
That all (or most) men of their aym do misse?
And that this sacred Magic still in spite
Of all their searchings, is obscur'd in Night?
Labour all things o're-comes you think, and they
Investigated it have Night, and Day;
VVith toyl, and sweat, pains indifagitable
And all the forces that their wits were able
To muster, for This searched have, and yet
The knowledge of this Magic cannot get.
The Fault's their own; for they wrong wayes have took
And the true Road to Blisse, and it forsook.
Their selfish wit, and wisdome this have wrought,
And from fair Truth's to errors paths have brought
Them; 'Cause they saw the way that to it led
Simple, and plain, therefore the same they fled:
They this forgot: TRUTH doth all coverings flee:
That to be Wise, is first a Fool to be.
Money, not Wit may be the purchasers
Of it; Obedience chiefly this infers.
This Magic's sacred, holy, and Divine,
By God himself hid from the World's dull eyne:
Does Man then think that all his witlesse wit,
And prying's able to discover it?
Unlesse God with his Finger shew't himself,
In vain they wast their wits, their Time, their Pelf,

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This then is one cause why so many fail,
Because they do to their own wits intail
The knowledge of it: for they never doubt
But by their Wisdom for to find it out.
But this Pearl God hath hidden from the eyes
(In ten-fold pitch) of all such VVorldly-wise,
And sooner may they crack their troubled Brain,
Than one poor glimpse of this deep myst'ry gain:
God doth it to a seav'n-fold Chest commit,
And Prayer is one holy Key of it.
Another Reason why this Pearl they misse
Because they slight the sacred Scriptures, is;
Trusting more to the Heathens Scriptures, than
Those which contain all happinesse for Man,
As if (because their vain Philosophy
They cannot in that blessed Writ descry)
The true Philosophy that is divine,
Therein with sacred Lustre did not shine:
But those will find, who pierce the mysterie
A Philosophic, high divinity.
The way to Blisse, and to this Magic, there
Unseal'd to eyes enlightn'd will appear.
Man's Heart's deceitful, full of subtle wiles,
Both others, and himself he oft beguiles,
His Heart's corrupt, for though he seeks for Blisse
A foul Colluvies at the bottom is:
God this beholds, and whatsoe're he seems
To man, he sees his close intents and Aimes.
Many investigate this Pearl: But why?
Some some selfish aimes close in their Hearts do lye;
But such must know, all self must lay'd aside
Be, or they else shall ever be deny'd.
FAME, and Renown infuse some short-liv'd hear,
Which causes some upon this Work to set;
Poor blast of Ayr which shuffles Man to Pride!
That Man expect should to be satisfied!
That God should yield to him, and not deny
His Lust, and Humours vain to satisfie!
He who hath aimes besides God's glory, shall
If clime unto this Art, but gain a Fall.

292

How many see the Philosophers Stone
(Part of this Art, and but the meanest One)
Out of meer Avarice, and hope of gain;
Hoping it will be their God Æschylane.
These are the Spurs, wherewith themselves they rouze
When they th'rough Pains their dulled Spirits loose,
But such at last, when their Spurs dulled are,
Tire, and yield up themselves unto despair;
Who have no better Spurs than these, the mire
They must go th'row their lazy jades shall tyre:
But the true seekers of the noble Stone,
Have golden Spurs to spurious such unknown.
These be the Reasons why so many misse
The STONF; and their investigated Blisse.

To thee dear Pilgrim need I not to shew
The way to Magic; 'tis the Way which you
Have come, and there's no other Path which guides
To this Cœlestial Art of Arts besides.
'Tis not the selfish Wise man this can gain,
'Tis not the Covetous shall this attain,
'Tis not the thirsty after Glory, shall
Be able once to touch this Magical
And happy Fruit; from such it's safely kept
By an huge Dragon, whose eyes never slept;
Those who this Fruit will gain must first outright
O're-come this Dragon in a single Fight.
O man thou must Regenerated be
Before thine eyes this happy Fruit can see,
For none but Children gain this Diadem;
Children of Love: it is preserv'd for them;
Children of Innocence; who washed are
In blest Regeneration's Lavar fair.
This happy Fruit by the free Hand of Heav'n,
To such Regenerated Babes is given:
By which from Babes to an exalted pitch
They'r rais'd, and so become Men wise, and Rich;
Rich in those Treasures, whose most simple Gemm,
The World doth, and its richest Riches shame.
This gift is Free, and yet it must be sought,
Yet by true Resignation 'tis bought.

293

God gives a portion small at first, but so
As it Man uses, shall his Talent grow.
But never let Man hope for this estate
'Til 's heart is pure, and Regenerate;
You know great Riches, and high Honours are
The Devil's strongest, unresisted snare,
By which oft-times he Souls doth overthrow,
Who pious were, e'r they those Baits did know:
Think you that God then int' Man's hands will put
So sharp a Weapon his own Throat to Cut?
Think you he will to him the Stone disclose,
'Til how to use it for his good he knows?
Nor knows Man how to use it 'till that he;
(First truly Dead) Regenerated be:
Then let all, who this Art investigate;
In Soul and Body be regenerate:
Then if they ask, they shall receive the prize:
If Knock the sealed Door assunder flyes:
If seek, they find: if pray, they'r heard: Thus I
Have shew'd the true way to Felicity,
The way whereby this Fruit may be attain'd:
Whereby the much desired STONE is gain'd.

He then who pure is, and Regenerate
And blessed so, that he may freely eat
Of this beatifying Fruit, he then
Becomes Heav'n's SOPHUS, or Magitian.
O those bless'd Bonds which fast together tye,
God, and the Soul, Man and the Deity!
Nothing's impossible for him to do,
Who this blessed state, and pitch attain'd has to,
For if to him, to God it must be so;
His Will is God's, they are no longer two:
He willeth nothing but by Heav'n's own Will:
Then what shall dare not his Command fulfill?
He now is Soveraign over the World, and all
Things, that therein are shall obey his Call.
For by this Art of divine Magic, he
May shroud him in invisibility:
Walk on the Clouds: stand in a flame of Fire;
And th'row the walls, if dores be shut retire:

294

May walk upon the surliest Seas, while they
Smoothing their rugged Fronts his feet obey.
To him diseases bow their eager heads,
And at his touch they leave their nasty beds
And fly to Hell, from whence they came; for by
His touch, and Word restor'd is Purity.
Of Vegitables the true use he knows;
The poyson in each herb away he throws,
And perfect Chymist by Spagyric Art,
Hell from Heav'n's Essence, Drosse from Gold can part.
Both Animals, and Minerals also,
He not by guesse, but perfectly doth know:
As Man may in a Mirrour see his Face,
So he their virtues through their outward Case.
No thing's unknown to him, all Arts that be,
Unmask'd are, and he views their Verity.
Metals he may transmute: the Stone by which
They are exalted to their highest pitch
Of perfectnesse he has: which will unfold
The way to change all Mettals into Gold.
Not only Bodies are at his Command
But all created Spirits also stand
To do his Will: The sneeking Devils are
If he Commands enforced to appear
VVith louting Heads, and trailing Tails, and eyes
Dejected, to behold themselves made prize:
To see that Man, whom they triumph'd upon,
Now to have Rule and be a Lord o're them.
O they had rather to the darkest place
Of Hell run, than behold their own disgrace,
For if he cometh where they be, they run
Into the lowest darknesse headlong down;
For they his eyes as much now hate to see,
As the bright splendor of Æternity;
For they behold him with that glory clad,
As once themselves before they lapsed had.
All Earthly Spirits also prest do stand
Ready to do, what he shall them Command:
Those in the Fire yield a joynt consent
To wait upon him in their Element.

295

Those in the Water, and the deepest Sea
All his Commands are ready to obay.
Those in the Ayr, and Astral Regions too,
Their constant service at his beck do shew.
The holy Angels also do rejoyce,
And pleasure Him who is the Highest's choyce:
Thus all conspire to be his servants, and
VVith speed obay what he shall them Command,
Besides all these to him permitted 'tis,
To enter Gods own Treasury of Blisse,
In which he doth Arcana's deep behold,
Not fit unto the World for to be told;
The great Archæus of all things that be,
He doth in ev'ry World and Astra see.
Divinely taught; divinely learn'd indeed,
He Heav'n's Cabal, and mysteries doth read.
And thus is Heav'n's Magitian a King
Upon the Earth, to whom all Creatures bring
Their homage due unto that Image, that
In him appears, of the Incorporat,
And increated Deity: And thus
Man is co-equal with (nay more than) us.
What Adam lost he gains by this new Birth,
And is new-Crowned King, and God on Earth.

And such a Godlike King was Adam: All
So should have been but for his fatal Fall:
But few, and very few attain to this
Great Pearl of Wisdom; Fruit of matchlesse Blisse,
Now in these latter dayes: But Mortals may
E're long behold, the mighty lustrous Ray
Of this fair Fruit; which I may call the Best,
For in it is contained all the rest.
Heav'n's great Magitian mighty Moses had
Upon this Fruit by God's donation fed,
When he those VVonders in the Name of God
Did do in Ægypt with his Magic Rod:
That Rod which to a Serpent changed was,
And which again into a Rod did passe,
By this Fruit he God's MAGUS did become,
Performing VVonders in his mighty Name:

296

By this on Pharoh, and all Ægypt too,
He sev'n fold Plagues, and seav'n-fold Wonders threw.
By this the Seas he parts, which Crystal walls
Become: the Israelites by this with Quales,
And Manna bright he feeds; By this a knock
Opens the Springlets in the solid Rock.
By this he Gold makes potable; his face
With royal Rayes, by this incircled was.
Mose's successor by this Magic too,
The strong-built walls of Jerico o'rethrew.
By it Jerubaal did overthrow
The Midians mighty Host without a blow.
Jesus with Heav'nly Magic also fed
Four thousand people with sev'n Loaves of bread:
By it he fasted fourty dayes; he by
The same did with invisibility
Adorn himself, and 'mong a Multitude
Of foes, unseen he passed th'row the Croud.
By it he walked on the Seas, and yet
His soles the brinish Waters did not wet:
By it although the Doors fast locked were,
He could when e'r it pleased him appear.
So Paul by the Cœlestial Magic's might,
Depriv'd the Sorcerer Elymas of sight.
So Peter when Hel's Magus Simon flew,
Thorow the Ayr, him from the Clouds he threw
Unto the Earth, by Heav'n's true Magic's Skil,
Which Fall did both his Life, and Magic spill:
For Hel's dark Magic unto Heav'n's must yield;
Nor dares that come, when this is in the Field.

With great attention all this while attended
The Pilgrim, 'till the Angel thus had ended:
But ravish'd with the Knowledge of that Fruit
(Leave being given) he with joy fell to 't:
Fell to that Feast which was more excellent
Than twenty thousand out-worlds Complement,
That Feast which by Heav'n's proper Hand was dress'd,
That Feast which by Heav'n's sacred Breath was bless'd:
That sacred Banquet which instal'd the man
Heav'n's divine, and Arch-Magitian.

297

O with what pleasure, and delight he eat
On that Cœlestial, and thrice sacred meat!
But yet with humble reverence he fed,
Bowing to Jesus for those gifts his Head,
Confessing still his own unworthinesse,
Of that Felicity He did expresse.
But seeing Jesus by the Angel had
Granted him leave to eat, he freely fed.

Whilst thus the Pilgrim with a full content
Of Joy, and Blisse, and highest ravishment
Feeds on those blessed Fruits, an Angel from
Th' Æternal Throne doth to the Banquet come:
The presence of this unexpected Guest,
Startl'd the Pilgrim, and rejoyc'd the rest.
Such Crowns of Glory sat upon his Head,
Such beams of Light about his Garments spread,
Such Heav'nly Splendor flashed from his Eye,
That made him seem Heav'n's fair Æpitomy.
With a fairspeed he came, whilst the sweet ayr
Wav'd the soft streamlets of his golden Hair,
And ruffling his white Gown rub'd flame-tip'd darts
Against the tender Wounds of bleeding Hearts:
For his fair Garment pouder'd was all o're
With flaming Arrows whose sharp points still bore
Themselves against fresh bleeding Hearts; the Wind
At every puff seem'd cruel, and unkind,
For those by clashing seem'd to wound indeed,
And these afresh to be inflam'd and bleed.
These were the Ensigns of the Sacred'st Love,
At whose Command this Messenger did move.
But in his right Hand, all of shining Gold
Thick set with Rubies, he a Cup did hold;
Immortal Amaranthus's made up
Into a Purple Garland, Crown'd the Cup.
But in the Mazure's golden Concave lay,
Of Wine of Love divine a blushing Sea;
A deep drought of that Heav'nly Nectar which
Is broach'd for those who gain the highest pitch.
The Purple streams which fruitful Tmolus yields,
Th' exuberant Vines which crown the Massic Fields,

298

The Purple Grapes that on the Rhene do grow,
The scarlet Liquor that in Creet doth flow;
Spains sprightly Nectar, Greece's pleasant wine,
Should they compared be to this divine
Ambrosiac Liquor, all of them would prove
But Gall, and Wormwood to this Wine of LOVE.

Approaching those who feasting were, on the
Choyce Fruits excerp'd from Life's thrice sacred Tree,
The Angel on the Pilgrim pitch'd his Eye,
In which was plac'd a Throne of swavity,
And reaching to him that Wine-filled Boul,
From's fluent Tongue these melting words did roul.
Take here (said he) a Cup of sacred VVine,
Squeez'd from the Grapes which grew on Jesu's Vine,
That Vine which spreads her spacious Branches even
O're all the fair walls of the Court of Heav'n.
This is the new Wine which our Hearts doth chear,
Which bringeth gladnesse, and expelleth fear,
This is Love's sacred Wine in it doth move
The very Spirit of the King of Love,
Which is not flitting but for ever fixed,
For he himself is with this Liquor mixed.
Our royal King himself, commanded me
For to present this Present unto thee.

This said: the Pilgrim three times bowed, and
The Goblet took out of the Angels Hand,
And putting to his Ruby Lips the Cup,
With ravishment he drunk the Liquor up.
Not all the Honey streams of Hybla may,
Such gusts of sweetnesse to a Tongue display,
As what the Pilgrim tasted in that Boul,
As the Heav'n-nectarized VVine did roul
Into the Breast; He never yet did meet
With any Wine so ravishingly sweet;
So that the pleasure did beguile his draught,
For e'r he was aware he deeply quafft:
The Boul was big, but had it bigger been
He would the bottom questionlesse have seen,
For here he knew he might drink in excesse,
And without sin drink unto drunkennesse,

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For who can blame those holy Saints (this Odd
Expression pardon) who are drunk with God.

No sooner had the Pilgrim drunk of this;
But Living Flames of everlasting Blisse
Surround his Heart, whose clipings without measure
Yield Raptures, and unutterable pleasure.
The Wine's quick Spirits move in every part,
And corner of his Head, his Breast, and Heart,
And piercing th'row each Limb, do cause them move
In sweet Tripudiations of Love.
Up starts he all inflamed (with that Flame
Which drove from David's breast Love stifling shame,
When he in an ecstatic Rapture danc'd
Before the Ark of God, as it advanc'd
Th'row all the Streets of fair Jerusalem)
Taking the Graces all, he danc'd with them,
The holy Dance of Love: Nor can exprest
Be, that sweet prickling Joy raigned in his Breast.
His sence of feeling feasted to the hight,
And (as the rest were) swallow'd in delight.
Unusual Gestures forced him to rear,
That he the better Love's excesse might bear;
For Nature's weak, and strives to Congregate
Those Spirits, which extream Joyes dissipate,
For Her own safety; lest by flying out
Too much, she should be quite left destitute.
Thus Flesh, and Blood, the Soul's Crosse alwayes is,
Depriving Her of Joys, of Sweets, of Blisse.
Not all the Joys and Pleasures the Dull VVorld
On the most sensual Mortals e'r has hurl'd;
Not all the Fleshes various pleasures, nor
Foul Cyprian delights themselves compare
May, with the smallest part of that delight,
And pleasue, which the Saints poor Souls excite.
Vain are the World's Joy momentany too,
Heav'n's everlasting, undefil'd, and true.
O what Tongue able is to tell the pleasure
The Pilgrim felt! Not all the Earthly Treasure

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Can purchase such delight; for the true God
Himself descended in a flaming flood,
Of Love, upon his Soul: Jesu's divine
And sacred Body, couched in the Wine
It self in pieces brake upon his Soul;
The sacred Spirit too, without controul
Descending, filled all his Soul about,
With Rayes of Light, and Love which nought could d'out.
Whole streams of Love upon his Soul was poured,
Festatic pleasures through the same were showred,
Seas of delight; unutterably sweet
Love-Extasies, his Soul together greet,
So that he was quite overcome of Love,
And did not know which way himself to move:
Intoxicated, and o'returned quite
He was, with Love's exuberant delight:
The burning Tincture of the Heart of God,
Rol'd o're his Soul a most delightful Flood,
Which him transported into Rapts divine,
So that he seem'd like one made drunk with Wine.
In this strong heat of his exultancy,
He on the green grasse swift about did flye,
With all those Graces, who compos'd a Ring,
And dancing round, this Hymn with joy they sing.

Hymn.

Sacred Flames of LOVE divine!
In our breasts untainted shine!
Feed upon our Souls! and let
Them unto the stake be set!
O Bless'd Fires quickly come!
We're prepar'd for Martyrdom!
Blessed is the Soul that dyes
Unto LOVE a Sacrifice.

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Blessed JESUS from thine Eye
There thrice sacred Flames did fly,
Which now burn without controul
On the Tinder of our Soul,
Blessed Fires! O consume
What's prepar'd for Martyrdom!
Happy is the Soul that dyes,
Sacred LOVE'S true Sacrifice!

The Ætherial Flames that are
Couched in the Welkin fair,
Those that Crown the radiant Sun,
Those which beautifie the Moon,
Are lesse fair than those which Come
For to Crown our Martyrdom.
Blessed is the Soul that dyes,
LOVE'S unspotted Sacrifice!

O how raging! yet how sweet!
Are those burning Flames which greet
Our dry Souls, with scalding Kisses,
Pains dispensing, with our Blisses,
But such pains we wish to Come,
That give Crowns of Martyrdom:
Happy is the Soul that dyes
Purest LOVE'S pure Sacrifice!

O our Souls are all on Fire!
We consume in our desire,
We desire what we possesse,
Waters but our Fires encrease,
Those bright Fires, which are Come,
To Crown Souls with Martyrdom.
O thrice blessed Soul that dyes,
Purest LOVE'S blest Sacrifice.

O what lingring Death is this!
Bliss inviteth us to Bliss;

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By these tasts of Love we be
More inamour'd of the Sea
Of Abyssal Love, whence Come
Flames, to crown our Martyrdom:
Blessed is the Soul that dies,
LOVE'S most willing Sacrifice!

O what kind of pain is this!
Which is sweeter than all Blisse!
O 'tis pain intolerable,
Pleasure yet unutterable.
Such are the bless'd Flames which come
T'Crown us with Love's Martyrdom.
Happy is the Soul that dies
Thus LOVE'S Living Sacrifice!

O we cry we cannot bear,
Love's hot flames which domineer
In our Breasts, and yet had we
Damn'd to Hell far rather be,
Than to lose these Flames which come
To Crown us with Martyrdom.
Blessed is that Soul that dies
Thus LOVE'S daily Sacrifice.

Fierce was the flame, and strong the happy heat,
Which on the Pilgrim's chafed Soul did beat:
Quick beat the pulses of his Noble breast,
High was the Tyde of LOVE, which still encreast
Its scalding waves, so that he thought he shou'd
Have lost his Life in that delicious Flood.
Such were Love's Ardors, he could scarce forbear
His fettering flesh, his free Soul's chaines, to tear:
How oft he mounted nimbly from the ground,
As if his Soul some passage thence had found:
How was he griev'd to see he leap'd in vain,
To see his Body bring her down again!

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O how he wished that his Soul might be,
Now from the shackling gives of Flesh set free,
That she might spread her spacious wings, and fly,
Th'row the wide Welkin of Æternity,
Unto th' illustrous Throne of Christ, and there
Among the Crowned Saints new cloath'd appear:
But chiefly that she without Letts might move
In the vast Ocean of Æternal LOVE.
For whilst that Flesh her freedom did restrain,
The more her pleasure was, the more her pain,
To be deny'd her Liberty, that she
Engulphed was not in that endlesse Sea:
Streams could not now content her; the Abysse
Of Love alone, must now compleat her Blisse.
O happy Souls which in such Flames do move
And frying, thus LOVE'S blessed Martyrs prove.

But whilst Love's Noble Flames heat every part
Of's Breast, and make a Bonfire of his Heart,
This blessed Pilgrim lifted up his eyes
Unto the glorious East of Paradise;
Where Worlds of glory rising from the place
Amazing Splendor hurled on his Face
And though it were all Day in Paradise,
A Sun, and greater Day began to rise.
A Light he saw, which springing from the East
All Paradise's lustrous braveries blest,
Adding new glories to those Beauties, that
One would have thought could not have been more great,
The Rosie-cheek'd Aurora did embright
The glorious womb of Day with no such Light;
The Cynthian Goddesse from the Orb did throw
No such bright Rayes upon the World below:
Nor yet the flaming Giant of the Day,
Such streams and beams of Light did e'r display:
Ten thousand Suns, ten thousand times more bright
Than ours, would not have paralell'd this Light:
Needs must it dazling be; what mortal eye
Can view the Splendors of Æternity?
The Angels, and the Graces all, when they
Behold it clap their downy Wings for Joy,

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And with due reverence thrice three times did bow
Their Heads, and kiss'd the flowry Pavement too.
As brighter Titan dims the lesser Stars,
So did this Light devour, that light of theirs.
As for the Pilgrim, on the ground he lay
Obstupified with that glorious Day;
But yet (with all th' advantage he could make)
Of that illustrous sight a view did take.

A crowd of Clouds begilded with the Beams
Of the Æternal Sun; whose radiant gleames
Had pierced th'row them (so a small thin Cloud
I oft have seen, when Sol himself did shroud
His face behind it from my eyes, grow clear,
And tincted th'row, a various colour were)
Appear'd far brighter than our Sun below,
Dress'd with more paintings than the Iris bow.
This Mask of Clouds was the Aurora too
The Sun of Glory that close after flew;
But pitching in the midst of Paradise,
This bright (but yet a) Vail assunder flyes,
And gave free leave for every Eagle eye
To see the bright Sun of Æternity:
It was the Sun of Righteousnesse, who there
Did in his glorious Ornaments appear.
The Tongues of Men, nor Angels can unfold
That Glory which the Pilgrim did behold.
A stately Throne, more clear than Crystal glasse,
Burnish'd with Heav'nly Gold, erected was,
On which sat down Glories immortal King,
From whom all Happinesse, and Blisses spring.
O glorious sight! who 'le not confounded be,
To see such Splendor, and such Majesty?
Upon his Head a starry fourfold Crown
Irradiating sat, from whence flow'd down,
Fair, and soft Volumns of the purest snow,
Which spread upon his sacred back full low.
A fount of Light which fill'd all Paradise,
With Sun-like brightnesse flowed from his eyes.
His Paps were girded with a Golden Zone,
Of more than Cynthian lustre was his Gown,

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In 's Hand the Scepter, wherewith he did sway
The Worlds in Righteousnesse, and Justice lay.
But O th' unutterable Majesty,
And Lovelinesse that in his Looks did lye!
A World of Wonders, and a wondrous Grace
Were to be spied in his sacred Face.
A Light more bright than thousand Suns, about
His Throne did flow from whence it issued out.
Behind was seen great Sathan overthrown,
Death, Hell, the World, and all things trodden down,
Under the glorious Lamb, who once was slain,
But now in triumph doth for ay remain
Death's, and Hel's darts were broke, o're whom he stood
Incompassed with an illustrous flood
Of Light ineffable, displaying there
His Conquest, written in a Banner fair;
The blessed Crosse in Heav'n's bright Ensign shon,
With streaming Gold, far brighter than the Sun?
So what was once contemptible and base,
Now stands in Glory in the highest place.
There also seen were those, who had put on
Their new Bodies, and gain'd their royal Crown,
And Scepter, whom great Jesus did instal,
Princes, and Kings, and mighty Lords of all,
Sharing his Royal Scepter, and his Crown
(Such is his matchlesse Love) with every One.

Thrice bow'd the Angels, thrice the Graces, and
Took up their places then, on either hand,
Awaiting when they should Commanded be
To any Office, by his Maiesty.
Th' amazed Pilgrim as yet prostrate lay,
Too weak to view the Godhead's glorious Ray,
But the same Light which his weak eyes annoys,
His Soul fil'd with incomparable ioyes,
And still the flames of ardent LOVE did roul
Upon the Altar of his sacred Soul.
But by and by his Guardian Angel Came,
(By Jesus first b'ing bid to do the same)
Who rais'd him up, and spread his downy Wing,
Before his feeble sight, and so did bring

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Him to the Throne of Jesus at whose Seat
He fell, and ravish'd kiss'd his sacred Feet,
Th' immortal King 'strait took him from the place,
And honour'd Him with a divine Embrace,
Seal'd all the Joys, the Pleasures, Blisses, sweets,
Upon his ravish'd Soul, and Angel meets
With, in his blessed station: O high
Exalted Pleasures of Æternity!
The Pilgrim then to Jesus would have Cry'd
(But that the Rapt his Tongue had chain'd, and ty'd)
That he unworthy was of all that Bliss,
Those favours, and that matchlesse Love of his:
And sain he would have had his Tongue confesse,
His constant frailty, and unworthinesse:
His Heart confess'd it but his Tongue was mute,
For Joys, and Pleasures would not let him do 't;
For that Embrace unto his Soul did move,
Enflaming more, and more the Fire of Love,
Whose heats at last unto that hight did come,
That he received there a Martyrdom.

Such matchlesse pleasures now enjoy'd this Saint
That neither mine, nor Angels Pens depaint
Can: nor Man think who never felt the same,
Who ne'r into Love's Armes, and bosom came:
But such they were, and of such price to Him,
That thousand Worlds should not have purcha'st them.
Nay such they were, he'd be content to gain
Such Pleasures, with ten thousand years of pain.
Therefore O Man! be wise: and let not this
World's pleasures rob thee of Æternal Blisse!

Muse breath a while, and give me leave to pray,
That I a Pilgrim too, may once enjoy
Such happinesse, and high exalted Blisse,
Such Pleasure, Rapture, and such Joy as this
Then shalt thou sing, touch'd with Cœlestial Fire
Of LOVE Divine, in sacred Notes, much higher
Than these low straines: Thy Lively measures then
Shall quicken up the drowsie Hearts of Men
From their Lethargic sleep: True Joy, and glee
Shall sweetly Couched in thy Numbers be.

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True Joy's, true Peace's, Rest's, and Blisses King!
I'le sigh, and mourn 'til thou say'st rise, and sing:
'Till thou say'st rise, and sing, I'le Sigh, and Mourn:
By me the Crosse (not yet the Crown) is worn.
Lord when thou pleasest Crown my Soul; that I
In Joy may Sing thy Prayse Æternally!

The end of the Second Part.

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3. The third Part.

Once more my sacred Muse doth take her flight,
And on the top of glorious SION light:
Where she beholds those glorious wonders, which
For ever the Æternal World enrich:
Those Wonders, and those Miracles of Grace,
Which beautifie, and splendorize the place:

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Those Wonders that are past her Skill to shew,
Which if she could, it were not fit to do,
For there such glorious Wonders may be read,
As are not lawful to be uttered:
But what she may, and what she Can express,
She shews unto you in a homely dress,
Accept I pray, this Offering she brings:
For Rapt with Wonders, all amaz'd she sings.
O Thou Æternal Everlasting Day!
Illuminate my darker Soul I pray!
O let her eyes be fixed upon thee,
Thou King of Glories and of Majesty!
Grant that she may behold those Wonders, that
Th' Æternal World, thy bless'd Seat, decorate.
O now inspire me with a Power divine,
Put Life into my Numbers, sacred Trine!
That whilst Heav'n's beautious Glories, here I sing
Unto your Throne I Souls may ravish'd bring;
That whilst my own, wrapt in these Hears doth see
Heav'n's Splendor, and thy glorious Beauty, she
May be united to the Lord! so close
That nor the World, nor Hell the tye may loose;
That while to others thus I sing, I may
O Lord! not be my self a Cast-away.

Ho! Momus cease to Carp; Ho! Zoilus Cease
Your scoffs, and taunts; Ho! Criticks hold your peace,
And say not now I Miracles reherse,
Beyond the lofty Limits of a Verse,
Say not I write my Brainsick-Whimsies, Lies,
Or Fables, or I meerly Poetize:
Ye are the Swine who grunting in the mire
Would spoyl the musick of the sacred Quire,
But for your dissonance, and grunt'ling noyse,
The World might often hear a Seraph's voyce:
Piggs think their whining best; the jetting Crows
Themselves the fairest of Heav'n's Fowls suppose:
The Owles, and Cuccows, think their Notes to be
As sweet as Philomel's sweet harmony.

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So you suppose your Canting best; and then
Like snarling Currs, do Carp, and snap at Men.
You're Swine indeed whose dull eyes stil below
Behold the earth, and hunt, and scent your trough;
Your necks are too too short to view the Skye,
How come you then to judge of things so high;
Because some Wind-fals on the ground you see,
Think you no fairer Fruit hangs on the Tree?
Swine cann't look up; it is a Man alone
Not slothful Beasts can pull the fair Fruit down.
Buzzards are blinded by Sol's glorious Rayes:
Eagles unhurt against his splendor gaze.
Here then are Pearls, but unto wise Men such,
But wrapt in pitch least Swine such gemms should touch.
Pearls must not naked be expos'd to Swine,
(So say'd that mouth that wholly was divine)
Least that they trample, and despise the same,
And Him, who so unwisely offer'd them.
Therefore a wise Man cautiously shrouds
Gemms of great value in obscurer Clouds:
And in the Pitch of Words those Pearls divine
Hides, from the eyes of such perverting Swine,
Which in their spendrous beauties otherwise,
Should Vail-less be exposed to their eyes.

But now me thinks I hear them Carp, and say
How come you thus Heav'n's beauties to display?
And the Arcana's of the Æternal Sphear,
When you your self never arrived there?
If you should tell us that you were; we cry
We are assured that it is a lye,
For none to Heav'n ever can attain,
Whil'st his kept-Soul doth in his Corpse remain;
For when the Body's dead, the Soul then flyes
To Heav'n (and not before) above the Skie.
To such whose Breasts are with such thoughts implete,
I shall (and in a word) this Answer fit.

Paul was alive and yet to Heav'n he flew,
Where he such wondrous mysteries did view,

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That as they were unutterable, so
They were not fit for to be told below.
The Patriarch Ænoch walk'd with God? and there
Is Heaven doubtless, where he doth appear
In Love, and Glory: so Ælias went
To Heav'n before his mortal Spirits were spent.
But such whose thoughts are thus; do heaven tye
Unto a place above the starry Sky,
Such don't believe the Scriptures, which declare
That also they within Man seated are:
Indeed th' Æternal Heav'ns are boundless, they
In Man, and out of Man themselves display.
I say they're boundless; for the God of Blisse
Is boundles, and they are where e're he is.
Nay Heav'n (though strange it seem) is too in Hell:
And there doth (as Light doth in darkness) dwell:
As Night cann't Day, as Darkness cann't the Light,
So cann't Hell e'r comprehend the bright
Æternal Heav'n: as't cann't excluded be,
So not included by Demensity.

Did Man himself but truly throughly know,
He'd find all Worlds that are, within Him flow:
Man's a deep study: and who Man doth see
Truly, and throughly knows all Worlds that be.
'Tis very true if Heaven only were
Beyond the blew Seas of the starry Sphear,
Our Souls enchain'd below could never come
Thither, till they had left their fleshly home,
For that our Elemental Bodies are
Too heavy, to be carried so far.
But Ænoch walk'd with God on Earth, and so
May Man on Earth be, and see Heav'n too.
O thou that gazeth on the Olympic Court,
Fancying beyond it the Majestic Port,
And Restful Haven of departed Souls,
Whose bredth extendeth unto either Poles,
Where mighty Mansions for the Saints do lye
Spread over the vast, and starry Canopye:
Carnal Conceits of splendid Palaces!
Man's grosly Brain-deluded Images!

313

Did'st thou but know the Nature of a Soul
Such fancyful Idea's thou'dst controul:
For nothing is more near than Heav'n to thee,
Wert thou not blind; had'st thou but eyes to see.
The deeper into thy self dost go,
The nearer thou still Heav'n approachest to.
For what's indeed a Souls departure hence,
But motion from the Circumference
Unto the Centre, let it Centre where
It will, or in the Light, or darker Sphear?
Had'st thou a Power granted thee to flye
Ten thousand times as far beyond the Skie
As it is to 't; as far from Heaven thou
Might'st be (God's Seat I mean) as thou art now.
Heav'n is spiritual (yet real too)
So that our outward carnal Eyes cann't view
Its Seat: The Soul which is a Spirit may,
Yea whilst it 's pris'ner in this house of Clay:
Though I confess this Clayie Vail is such,
That intervening it doth hinder much
These outward eyes can nothing view but what
Is gross, material, and Corporate:
Rather more truly they do nothing view,
(No more than the Perspective we look through
Is said to see, for 'tis the eye, so) 'tis
The Soul, and nothing else that views, and sees.
What sees the Body, when the Soul is fled?
The Organ still remains the same, though dead,
Yet it no visive Power has, for why
The Soul once gone, of no use is the eye.
So likewise 'tis (as plainly it appears)
The Soul that feels, that smels, that tasts, that hears.
But now the Soul without a Body may
Nor see, nor hear, touch, tast, or smell I say:
Mistake me not I pray? I mean not now
This Flesh, and Blood; this gross out-garment though
For this indeed is as it were a soul
Garment, unto the Body of the Soul:
Which is its prison; and the fruit (which all
Men bear) of Adam's fell, and fatal Fall:

314

For this Imagination did indue
This Body, when he put his mind into
This extern Principle; which once shall be
Int's Æther swallow'd to Æternity.
Suppose you had a Robe of Lead made fit
Unto your Body, and that put in it;
Your Face, and Hands, all parts covered o're,
Against your eyes thick Glasses: as before
You could not see; how dim the World would show?
How heavily should you then move, and go?
Could you so nimbly scud across the Plain?
Or sprightly swim within the silver Main
As you before did? should a wedg of Steel
Fall hard upon you, should you not it feel?
And should your glass eyes stopped be with clay,
You could not then behold one glimpse of Day.
But should you freed be from that Prison, then
How fair, and clear would all things show agen?
Just so 'tis with the Soul: a heavy foul
Garment, unto the Body of the Soul
This fleshly Case is: whilst it fouly decks
It, she doth labour under its defects,
And must be subject unto them; then she
If that the eyes be d'outed cannot see
The outward World; let any part of this
Organic Body be but ought amiss,
She is afflicted with it; by this tye
Of flesh she thus endures misery.
But the Soul's Body is another thing,
Which in, and through this fleshly Case doth spring,
Not to be seen with fleshly eyes; so you
May see the Sun, but not that Body view
Which gives it splendor; so you view the flame,
But not that Body which Lives in the same.
For the true Elements they are not seen
By eyes Corporeal; 'tis an outer Screen
You view: the Body of the Soul likewise,
From the unmixed Element doth rise.
This is the Body that to Heav'n doth flye,
Who gains this Body, gains the Mysterie;

315

For thorow it he Heav'n may view, though he
In his corporeal Clayie House still be;
Who fixes this may there for ever dwell,
For he those Wonders views that Worlds excel.
'Tis in this Body that the Soul doth see
Th' immortal Glories of Æternity.

'Tis plain that all, or most great Visions, that
The sacred Scriptures t'us do nominate,
Not with the outer were beheld, but by
The Heav'n-beholding, and internal eye.
What outward Eye can see a Sp'rit, unlesse
He doth himself int' form, and matter press?
What outer eye is able, then to see
The Form, or glory of Heav'n's Majesty?
An Angel's fain to vail his splendid beams
With some gross matter, when himself it seems
He will discover to th' extern eye of Man,
What extern Eye can see the Heav'n's glories then?
With what eye did Elisha's Man behold
The fiery Host that did them safe enfold?
With what Eye was it that Ezekiel spy'd
That glorious Vision by clear Chebar's side?
With what Eye did he see Jerusalem
When he in Chaldæ captive did remain?
With what Eye was it that great Daniel saw
Himself (though then at Shushan) at Ælai?
By what sight saw he (when sleep seal'd his eyes)
The great Creator in th' Æternal Skies?
And how could Steven with his outer eye
See Jesus sitting in th' Æmperial Sky
At God's right Hand? You know the glorious Sun
Which round this Orb in twice twelve hours doth run,
By three times fifty, and sixteen degrees
Exceeds the World: But who that Planet sees
Deems him but smal: How far beyond that Star,
As they account th' Emperial Heav'n's are
You may imagine, when the space they 'count
'Twixt Earth, and the eighth Heav'n, to surmount
Sev'nteen hundred millions of Miles and more,
How vast a distance did Steven's eye therefore

316

Behold our Saviour? But that eye by which
He say, no bounds to it can distance pitch.
Paul's eyes were closed; with what eye saw He
The Glory then of Heav'n's bright Majesty?
Peter entranc'd was; with what eye Beheld
He then, the sheet with clean, and unclean fill'd?
And lastly with what Eye, and with what Ear,
did divine John in Patmos see, and hear?
If thus the Eye may Heav'n see; also
The Body of that Eye may thither go.
It is not strange to them therefore that are
Acquainted, with true notions of that Sphear
Wherein Jehovah, and the Angels be,
That Man on Earth th' Æternal Heav'n's may see:
For such do know how Souls abstracted may
Be, from their House of impediting clay,
And that whilst in their Bodies they remain,
May Heav'n (by Faith not only) here attain;
And be conversant in the highest Sphear,
Abstracted from the World though they dwell here.

But least (because I here so stifly plead)
You should suppose I have been there indeed;
I will confess (as 'counting it great shame
To be accounted better than I am)
That I not worthy have accounted been;
O no I cleans'd am not am enough from Sin)
I am a Pilgrim and do thither wen,
Strong is my Faith I shall come there: Amen!
Assur'd I am, although a very few
Attain (whilst here on Earth) this Court unto,
That here on Earth it may attained be,
Though Flesh, and Blood impeed its clarity.

But you that ask me how I come to know
Those things of Heaven which I here do show?
Since (as I do confess) I have not been
There, nor those myst'ries that I speak of seen.
Pray tell me also then how you come by
Your knowledge of a Heav'n beyond the sky?
Were you e're there; Yet confidently you
Discribe the place, affirm your notion true:

317

You'l tell the Joys of everlasting Blisse
Describe the Glory that in Heaven is;
And will you then (if you did never see
The place you speak of) angry be with me,
For doing what your selves do daily do?
You say 'tis UP to Heav'n; and that is true:
And is't not also INTO Heav'n? you'l grant
That God's the Centre of all things: and sha'nt
The Centre which is inmost highest be;
Or Up, or In it is all one to me:
But this I know that Heav'n (and also Hell
Though separate) in every place do dwell.

Although (as I confess) I have not been
In Heav'n, nor there its spendid glories seen,
Yet I account it grace enough to be
The Præco of his heav'nly Majesty:
I may the Candle hold, and light the way
Into the place of everlasting Day:
I may the Mercury be to guide aright
Cœlestial Pilgrims, with my glimmering sight;
We may see right unto the Mountain's top,
And point the way whilst we are getting up,
Unto our fellow-Travellers, that they
(if faster go they can) may see the Way:
We Joy if by our means aright they move;
Those that see more may thank us for our Love.

That upper Globe which you see pourtrai'd there,
Doth represent the high Eternal Sphear,
This is the highest Noblest, brightest, best,
The Glory, Life, and Centre of the rest,
The Place of mighty Wonders, the divine
Seat of the sacred everlasting Trine:
The habitation of the blessed Saints,
Where glorious Angels spread their heav'nly Tents:
Where stands Mount Sion, and the glorious Lamb,
Where is SOPHIA, and Jerusalem.
This is the everlasting place of rest,
The Heav'n, the habitation of the blest:
This Man may find in the deep Centre, and
How this through all devolveth understand.

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Here is the spatious glassie Sea; and the
Crystalline Earth, the Ayr of Purity,
The purest fire; which conjoyn'd in one,
The matter is of the Cœlestial Throne
Of Everlasting Joyes: This place it is
The Empyreum, and the Seat of Blisse:

GOD out of Nature Comprehended may
Not be; a Nothing so to us I say
He seemeth, but as he Himself doth show
In the Eternal Forms of Nature, so
We apprehend him can; The Father then
Hath from Eternity begot the Son;
This Birth's the Heart of God, which ever was,
And though begot yet 't no beginning has;
From whence proceeds the sacred Spirit, who
From both begotten is Eternal too.
All three distinct in Person, yet but One
Æternal GOD in a strict Union.
This is the Mysterie of the sacred Trine,
Which in this everlasting Orb doth shine,
But now the Father with a strong desire,
Thirsts for the Son, from whence springs up a Fire,
Which Fire not reaching God's most sacred Heart,
Is full of Anguish, Bitternesse, and Tart.
This is the Fire that inkindleth Hell,
Where all the damned, and the Devils dwell;
But the same Fire, when that sacred LOVE
Or Heart of God, it self to it doth move
Strait blazeth forth, into a meek and Bright
Joy, and desire of Æternal Light?
This is the Light of Heav'n, and pleasant Joy,
In which all Blisse is, not the least annoy.
And thus O Reader! if thou art not blind,
Heav'n's Blisse and Joy, Hel's pain, and torment find
Thou wilt to come from one deep Root; and even
Perceive the true cause both of Hell, and Heaven.
And thus thou seest how they together dwell,
Hell hid in Heav'n; Heav'n in the midst of Hell;
And yet so great a Gulf between, that they
In Hell behold not the least glimpse of Day;

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Nor they in Heaven feel the least of wo,
Their separation's thus Eternal too.
Though Similies are too too base to shew
This Mystery of Mysteries of Mysteries to you,
But that our weak, and duller eyes may see
More clear by them think on this Simile.
Take thou a lighted Tapor, put it out,
The week thou'lt see with Fire glow thr'owout,
From whence a stinking vapour, and a Fume
Displeasing to thy nosethrils fills the room,
The stinking glowing weik gives little light,
And the Fire far doth differ from a bright
And burning Tapor; Light the same, and then
Thou'lt see the former darknesse fled agen;
Thou'lt see a blaze which from the weik doth rise,
With a bright splendid Glory 'fore thine eyes,
Which Blaze without the Fire could not be made,
The Fire's without that blaze a deady shade;
The Heat, and Light distinct and several be,
Though joyntly they do in the blaze agree,
Nor can the Light without the Heat have being,
But joyntly in one harmony agreeing
They make that Glory, brighter than the Gold,
Which in a lighted Tapor we behold;
But Heav'n's splendrous Light doth not contain
Such scorching heat as in such Lights remain.
The Application's very clear: 'Tis even
Thus 'twixt the Fire of Hell, and Light of Heaven.
For the first Principle alone makes Hell,
But Heaven, when the Second in't doth dwell;
The first is to the second even as
The Fire which makes the glowing weik to blaze,
From whence proceeds the Light, the Joy, the Blisse
That in the high Æternal Heaven is.

Here in this Sphear those mighty Wonders be,
Which as the sporting of the Deity,

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Themselves display: Wonders indeed they are
Which do exceed Man's comprehension far.
Here 'tis that God himself t'himself displays,
From whence the sence arises up in Joys.
A thousand thousand things for aye arise,
Æternal Waters, and Eternal Skies:
Hence Paradise, and the internal Orbs,
Do cloath themselves in their illustrous Garbs;
Should all the Stars for Counters serve, they were
Too few, to number all the Wonders here.
Whilst I am wrap'd in meditating them,
I am amaz'd, amazement stops my Pen.
Here Loves, and Glories do unite in one:
Here is that three-times sacred Union
'Twixt God and Man: betwixt the Deity
And the immaculate Humanity;
From whence the Lillies, and the Wonders grow,
From whence the Joyes of Love, and Blisse do flow,
This is the marriage of the sacred Lamb:
The Soul returneth here from whence it came,
With the additions of Æternal Blisse:
SOPHIA to the Soul united is,
The Soul to Her, the virgin Body here:
Such are the Joyes, and Blisses of this Sphear.

Man of all Worlds is an Æpitomy,
And with all Worlds that are he doth agree,
Ah why should th' outward Captivate him so,
As he the rest should not so truly know!
That ah prepostrous! th' outward World should have
Most rule in Him, and all the rest inslave,
Or hide them from his eyes, so deeply, that
He thinks those Worlds, and He are separate.
The outer Case of Flesh doth represent
The outer World, in which the others vent
Themselves: th' internal Worlds themselves do spread
About the Heart; th' Eternal in the Head.
So are they plac'd in Man, and so they be
In th' inner ground, as all the wise do see.
All outer pleasures of the World do stretch
Themselves but to the Flesh, and do but reach

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The outer sences: Carnal pleasures flow
In lower Regions, and are left below.
Th' internal Worlds are open'd in the Breast,
There Paradise, and all its Joys exprest
Are; there likewise the darker Worlds harsh source
It self in Anguish, and in pain doth force.
The sence of feeling lyeth in that part,
And Paradise doth open in the Heart.
But what from this Eternal Sphear is shown,
Within the Centre of the Head's made kown:
For there the eye, and ear are manifest,
To which all sights and heav'nly sounds exprest
Are: all the Wonders of this higher Sphear
When they are shown are manifested there.
This is a Mist'ry unto those that know
No other Worlds but this out-world below.

But to our Pilgrim let us now return;
Whose progress shall to those who will not spurn
The Truth, make known some Myst'ries of this Sphear
Which may be shown; but those that thus appear,
For scorners sakes a little vail'd must be,
And yet our Vailes are made of Tiffany;
So that an Eye not altogether blind
The sence, and meaning of our words may find.
Our happy Pilgrim, who in Paradise
In Blisse, and pleasure in Love's bosom lies,
Feeling those pleasures that do scorn annoy,
And breathing in the Fire of purest Joy,
Doth Heav'n already as it were possess,
Seated in Blisse, and crown'd with Happinesse.
But Love's immortal Prince doth now relate
To him the glory of an higher state,
He being sitted by the Prince of Love
For this ascension, now must farther Move.
O here it lyes not in the Will of Man,
For one step selfly forward move he can

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Not; here it must be Jesus he alone
Conveighs the Soul to this Cœlestial Throne:
Who whilst 'tis wholly passive, swiftly whurl'd
Is, in Love's Coach into th' Eternal World.
The silver Clouds of Paradise do meet
In a Conjunction, and at Jesu's feet
Conspire; who with the Pilgrim back, those clear
Clouds, mounting thence into th' Eternal Sphear.
But e're the Pilgrim went the Graces all
Approaching him into his Lap let fall
Their Royal bounties all desiring He
T'accept those small Presents would pleased be:
For by their virtue he his subjects might
Rule (seated in his Royal Throne) aright.
FAITH gave her golden Shield beset with Gemms,
Whose sight Hel's mighty Monarch fears it seems,
As much as Mortals did that Buckler dread
On which was pourtray'd curs'd Medusa's Head;
For when so e're he spies that glorious Shield,
Screeching and howling he deserts the Field.
A golden Anchor he receiv'd from HOPE,
Which not the force of Hell could e'r pull up,
When once 'twas fix't; upon the Billows ride
He safely could, and all Hel's storms abide
Without the least of Danger, and by this
In mid'st of Stormes, h'in mist of safety is.
ZEAL brought a Sword whose hilt with glittering Gold
Shan; from whose two-edg'd blade flames sprightly rold;
The Stygian Princes flesh no Weapon but
This terrible two-edged Sword can cut:
This is the Sword of the bless'd Spirit, and
Hell for his furies can its force withstand.
A Royal Miter profer'd PIETY,
Which Crown'd the Pilgrim's royal brows on high,

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The Helmet of Salvation it was,
O'relaid with Gold, and fram'd of solid Brass,
Which all Hel's Thunderbolts could never pierce,
Nor all his shafts, though they were ne'r so fierce.
COURAGE a Breast-plate gave of solid Steel,
Through which he Hel's black Arrows could not feel,
Of Righteousness it was, whose shining glass
Retorted Hel's black shafts into his face,
So that the more he seeks to wound his foes
The more by's own shafts shall his damage grow.
True JOY a Royal Robe presented, where
All Paradise's flowers embossed were,
Love fram'd the stuff, and Innocency wrought
Into true True-Love-Knots all that Joy brought.
This Robe could not defiled be with sin:
If Hell flings Durt on 't, it fals off ag'en.
An upright Staff UPRIGHTNESS gave for guide,
A golden pair of compasses beside,
By which all Actions measur'd ought to be,
Beyond whose bounds his steps ought not to flee;
Whilst by that Staff and Compasses he goes,
Hell nor the World did dare his Way oppose.
TRUTH she presented him the sacred Writ,
In which he might behold all things that fit
Were to be done, and what to be eschew'd.
HUMILITY a Van to sift the Proud
Actions, and Thoughts; to sift the Chaff and the
Cockle, from the bright Wheat of Purity.
OBEDIENCE a silver Wheel presented,
By which all adverse Thoughts, to be tormented
Were, and all Actions that did Rebels prove
Unto the Laws, and Crown of sacred Love:
By which close-grinding Wheel, the flowr was ta'ne
From the enclosure of the fruitless Bran.

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But RESIGNATION gave a golden Crosse,
In which contain'd was not one grain of dross,
Love's glorious badge, where all Opposers dy'd,
And where all humane Wills were crucifi'd:
A Crosse on which who hung, were mounted ev'n
From Death to Life; from Earth to highest Heav'n.
True WISDOM gave a pair of Ballances,
Whose Scales th' impartial Hand of Justice weighs;
Whereby He able was to weigh aright,
And the true Gold to know from what was light.
All something gave, to whom his thanks b'ing pai'd,
To th' highest Sphear Love's Coach its voyage made.

Swifter than Eagles in a full Career,
They mounted up into th' Æternal Sphear:
Such was their speed, such was their sudden flight,
As it depriv'd Him of the Act of sight.
So that he scarcely could denote, or tell
What in that sudden wrapt to him befell.
His Soul enflamed with the purest Love,
Did in Aliah's fiery Charriot move,
Cutting their way thorow that unseen Skye
Which fast together all the Worlds doth tye,
Which is the Medium, whereby Souls do go
Unto the highest Orb, from Orbs below:
This Waye's the Ladder whereby Angels move,
From lower Sphears, unto the Sphears above.
This Ladder's basis fastly fix'd is here,
Whose top doth mount into the highest Sphear,
This is the Path of Souls, and who finds this,
Hath found the way unto the Highest Bliss:
But he that finds this, Jacob's sleep must find,
Or else he seeks in vain, and grasps the Wind;

Cœlestial VENUS with a glittering Ray
And beam of Light immortal, points the Way
Unto the entrance of th' Æternal Orb,
Which 'gan to glitter now with fires Superb;
Whose lustrous Splendors the faint Pilgrim drove
Into a stupor 'tween the Armes of Love;

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Who there annoynting with a Salve his eyes,
Enter'd that Orb, and bid him see, and rise

Within the Circle of th' Æternal Sphear.
Three Orbs of glory, and three Worlds appear,
Three several Mansions, outer, inner, inmost,
Answering to Father, Son, and holy Ghost,
To Light, to Life, and to Eternal Love:
Myriads of Angels about which do move.
Our holy Pilgrim having enter'd now
Into th' Eternal World, himself doth bow
Under the Ensign of that glorious Crosse,
Which in its glory there advanced was.
A Silence unexpressable was there,
Nothing but stilnesse in that sacred Sphear,
For all that Orb, where now our Pilgrim went
Encircl'd was with the One Element.
Here he beheld the bright and sparkling Eye
Of Providence, and of Aternity.
Here He beholds those Wonders I confess
My Tongue and Pen too weak are to express,
And here he feeds upon those fruits that grow
Upon the Tree of Life's superbest bough.
Here He becomes a true Magitian,
Here He becomes in Jesus Christ a Man.
Here now his eyes are so illuminate,
That they through all things that are penetrate.
Here he in Silence waits upon that Eye
Which sparkles in this Still-Æternity.
Words cannot speak this Blisse: nor I declare
Can more; or if I could I should not dare.

But now the goodnesse of a matchless Love,
Commands the Pilgrim once again to move,
Who mounting higher comes to that abode
Which ever Ecchos with the Name of God:
The second Orb of the Æternal World
This is; arrived here his eyes he hurld
On every side: on every side he saw
Those beams of Light, and everlasting Day,
Which darted down from New Jerusalem,
With Life, Light, Glory did that Orb behemm.

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Here he beholds the glorious Lambs abode,
Here he beholds the sacred Heart of God,
Here he beholds thrice bless'd EMANUEL,
Here he beholds where all the Angels dwell,
Thousands of thousands sees he there to bide,
Plac'd in their orders upon either side,
And though that some higher than others were,
In this respect, they all were equal there,
In that they all were full there was no want,
Though some had more than some, yet none did scant;
So smaller vessels fil'd till they run o're,
Cannot complain if they can hold no more,
Against another vessel, though he may
Contain, it may be thrice as much, as they:
When all are filled to the very brim,
All are content, and all alike do seem,
Thus largest Souls shall have the largest share,
Of Glory, yet all full; no want is there:
Love's measur'd, but by their Capacity,
All are implete, and all but full can be.
There Hallalujah's soundeth in his eares,
There sacred Songs of prayse, and Joy he hears;
There all the pleasure of Æternal Blisse,
In hight of Glory, still triumphant is:
Words are too weak: And these Arcana's shall
Be known to none; Til GOD himself reveal.
Great is his Love, and great his Wonders be,
Those shall confess them, that this Orb shall see.

But O the Bliss Eternal that doth move
In constant streams, down from the Heart of Love
Upon the Pilgrim's Soul: so strong the blisses
Are, of Love's flaming, and berapting Kisses
That down he fals before the sacred Lamb,
Prest with the impresses of Love's sacred flame.
His heart's inflam'd, and full of Love divine,
His Face with radiant beams of Light doth shine,
His Soul indued with a Life Supernal
Cann't dye; for all his joys are now Eternal.
O words are wanting here for to express
The thousandth part of such an happinesse.

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But one flight more, but one step more there is
For to Complete our Pilgrim's Joy, and Bliss:
Here he awaiteth for the Spirit his guide,
That as ascended, so he glorified
Might be; his eye now fix'd is on thi Throne,
Awaiting for that mystic Union,
Which as with Wonder, so with Joy, delight
And everlasting pleasure fill it might.

The time is come, and now by gracious Love
He doth into Sanctum Sanctorum move,
Into the holyest now of holyest, he
Admitted is, where dwels the Deity
In Light immortal, where the blest abode
Is of the sacred Trine, the Triune GOD.
There in immortal Glory, great JEHOVE,
There blessed JESUS, and the sacred DOVE
Conjoyn'd in one, make up the blessed TRINE,
A mysterie as sacred, as divine.

Behold the Pilgrim now is come in view
Of the third Orb Jerusalem the New,
With all her glories glittering in that Sphear
Bride-like adorn'd doth to his eyes appear.
Glories of glories doth adorn the place,
The Wal's like Jasper or the Crystal Glass;
Four square the City is, on every side
Equal: the length, the breadth, the height divide
Int' equal parts. Both great and high the Wall
Is, of this sacred and Cœlestial
JERUSALEM; Her twelve Foundations
Are laid with twice six several precious Stones.

The first is JASPER; as transparent as
The glorious Morning; or the crystal Glass,
Glorious Saint PETER'S great, and glorious Name
Deeply insculpted is upon the same.
The second SAPHIR, which doth court the eye
With all the beauties of the Azure Skye:
On which ingraven is the name of PAUL,
The second beauty of this Heav'nly Wall.

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The third a CHALCEDONY, which doth show
Like flames above, and glowing coals below;
Engraven deep the name of JOHN divine
On it, doth with glorious splendor shine.
The fourth an EMRAULD whose Cœlestial
And verdant glories beautifie the Wall:
There Zebedean JAMES his glorious Name
With equal Lustre beautifies the same.
The fifth's a SARDONIÆ, whose blushing dies,
The Wall as Phœbus doth the Morning skies:
Alphean JAMES'S Name is graven here,
And with a wondrous Lustre doth appear.
The sixth a SARDIUS is: which doth imbue
The sacred VVall with more than scarlet hew;
Blessed Saint ANDREW'S holy name doth own
A splendid place upon that blushing Stone,
The seav'nth a CRYSOLITE whose Croseam beams
Paint all the side with thousand golden streams,
Saint MATTHEW'S Name most glorious to behold
Shines there engrav'd, and wrapt in purest Gold.
The eighth a BERIL of a glorious hew,
Which paints the VVall at once both green, and blew:
The name of SIMON doth it self display
There graven deep; which shall remain for aye.
The ninth a TOPAZ, which with Lustrous Rayes
And verdant streams, its beauty there displays.
Saint BARTHOLOMEW'S bless'd name doth also stand
Engraven there by an Almighty Hand.
The tenth a CRYSOPRASUS, which is seen
To paint the Wall at once with Gold, and green.
Shining in Heav'nly Lustre THOMAS his
Illust'rous Name on it engraven is.
Th' Eleventh is a HYACINTH, whose flame
The golden splendor of the Sun doth shame.
VVith bless'd Saint PHILLIP'S name engrav'd thereon,
VVhich glowing there seems written in the Sun.
The twelfth an AMETHIST, whose blushing shine
Out-braves the Rosie hew of Cretian VVine,
VVhereon the glorious name of blessed JUDE,
By God engrav'd in triumph there is shew'd.

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Her everlasting Gates were three times four,
One entire Pearl doth serve for every door,
On which in most resplendent Glory dwell
The names of the twelve Tribes of Israel.
The dainty streets pure Crystal doth enfold,
And the whole City is of massy Gold,
But yet transparent as the brightest Gemm
Unto Spectators blessed eyes doth seem.
Thorow the middle doth Life's River flow,
Upon whose banks the Tree of Life doth grow.
The glorious Splendor of the blessed Lamb
Is Sun, and Moon unto JERUSALEM:
The Glory of the Lord doth alwayes sit
There to embrighten, and o're-shadow it:
Night's banish'd thence; the Lamb's resplendant Ray
Indues it with an everlasting Day.
The Lamb the only stately Temple is
Of this great City of everlasting Bliss.
O here remains the everliving Word!
O here remains the Glory of the Lord!
Lo there the Lamb upon mount Sion's top
Triumphant stands with all his Virgin Troop:
There all the Elders with their glorious Crowns,
To Judge the world sit in their splendid Thrones.
Lo there the everlasting SON of GOD
Cloath'd with immortal Rayes, makes his abode.
Lo there the blessed Saints, and Angels be
Cloathed with Robes of Immortality,
VVhose glittering brows are Crown'd with Diadems
Chas'd with e'rlasting, and Cœlestial Gemms.
Here Glory, Prayse, and Hallalujah's be
Sung to the LAMB to all Æternity.
Here is the Book of Life, the Heav'nly Stone,
The glorified Mame, th' immortal Throne
Of Blisse, and everlasting Joyes: And here
The new, and glorified Bodies are.
This is the secret Sacred Place; this is
The glorious Kingdom of everlasting Bliss:
This is the Mansion House, and the abode
Of JESUS, and of all the Sonnes of GOD:

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O here's the Rock of Wonders, and here is
The hidden Treasure of Æternal Blisse.
O here the Saints, and Angels shall for aye,
The blessed Name of GOD resound with Joy:
Joy everlasting, and a Joy that can
Not comprehended be by sensual Man.

VVhilst thus with Joy implete, and Wonder too
Our happy Pilgrim doth intently view
The glorious beauties of this sacred place;
He's now disrob'd of his poluted Case,
For no defilement, or polution
Can enter into new JERUSALEM.
A Body clear as Crystal, Light as Ayr,
VVhere the true Elements all mixed were
In a just harmony, he now indues,
His other body now no fæces shews,
But swallow'd up by a blest Union
Is made more bright, and glorious than the Sun:
Arrayed thus th' Æternal Gate of Blisse
Straitway unto our Pilgrim open'd is,
Through which he enters, to that sacred place
VVhere without Vails he sees GOD face to face.
VVonders of Wonders there he sees; which none
Beholds, til they (as he) approach the Throne,
That Throne of Glory, and Æternal Bliss,
VVhere our thrice happy Pilgrim seated is.

Thus ends his Jorney, here for ever blest
He doth implete with Joyes, and Blisses rest.
And here I too should end, I do confess
VVith admiration of his happinesse,
And with Addresses to Heav'n's Majesty
That my poor Soul at last enthron'd might be,
And that she might for ever blessed move,
In Joyes, and Blisses in the Sphear of LOVE;
But that my thinks I see your noting eye
That Clouded Glory o're this Orb doth spye,
And speaking in its silent Language, now
The meaning of it me commands to shew.

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That represents GOD past the reach of Creature,
Beyond the Forms of the Eternal Nature;
GOD in himself: GOD in the Abstract; where
VVe may say what He is not; but we dare
Not say here what He is: for neither He
Can Good, or evil, or Light, or Darknesse be,
Nor this, nor that here in this place; nor Can
Nor ought to be search'd into by Man.
Here as a Nothing He to us doth seem,
Nor Can Man further knowledge have on Him.
Nor Man, or Angel a Commission has
To dive into this abstruce secret Place,
Therefore thine eyes withdraw, and be Content
To know GOD as He will, nor represent
Thou to thy mind, or in thy fantasie
An Image of the glorious Deity;
For never ought we Heav'n's high Majesty
To Form or Figure whatsoever tye:
Therefore O Man destroy all Images
Of God, that in thy fantasie shall rise.
This is the increated ENS of God,
And an immense unfathomable flood,
Where lest we loose our selves we shall withdraw,
Into this secret place no man e'r saw.
Therefore O Reader I admonish thee
That thou no farther search what God may be,
For if thou dost, distracted in the end,
Thou wilt confess, Man cann't GOD comprehend.
VVithdraw thy Thoughts then, cease thou here to pry
Into the secrets of the Deity:
GOD will not here be known; but yet he is,
And will be known, upon the Throne of bliss.
He will be known in NATURE increate,
His VVonders there Man ought to meditate.
VVhere He the Arcana's of Heav'n's Majesty,
VVith eyes of Truth, and with true eyes may see.
O Reader therefore to the Orb rf Love
Your eyes, and meditations now remove,
VVhere thou by constant Prayer mayst obtain
A sight of what here under Clouds remain,

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And with clear eyes must see those things of worth,
VVhich by my Pen are darkly shadow'd forth:
But yet accept my Labour and my Pains;
My Heart examine, not my duller strains
For if they any shall with Light befriend
I joy: for that of Writing is THE END.

Deo soli Gloria Qui Nobis hæc otia fecit.

FINIS.