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A Midnight's RAPSODY.
Upon my dear W. at the point of Death.
1668.
Dark time, alas! when both the light
Of Heaven, and my sad Soul, have ta'n their flight,
And both intomb'd in deepest night!
Of Heaven, and my sad Soul, have ta'n their flight,
And both intomb'd in deepest night!
Dejected Muse! how canst thou think
To look or write, when th' Eyes of Heav'n do wink,
And Paper looks it self like Ink?
To look or write, when th' Eyes of Heav'n do wink,
And Paper looks it self like Ink?
Lord! but increase my inward Sight;
Thou who from Chaos didst create a Light;
One Smile from thee can gild my Night.
Thou who from Chaos didst create a Light;
One Smile from thee can gild my Night.
A Night! that foils the brightest Ray
O'th' Moon, and clouds the clearest Beam of Day;
Yet will thy smallest Glance obey.
O'th' Moon, and clouds the clearest Beam of Day;
Yet will thy smallest Glance obey.
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Behold the courteous Queen of Night
Is pleas'd to lend a Ray, by whose kind light,
Although wept blind, I now can write.
Is pleas'd to lend a Ray, by whose kind light,
Although wept blind, I now can write.
Hark how her pretty small ones cry!
And who can doubt that Heaven will deny
Those Tears would Marbles mollifie?
And who can doubt that Heaven will deny
Those Tears would Marbles mollifie?
My Pray'r, methinks, more swiftly flies,
Born on the Pinnions of their purer Cries;
Which court at once, and scale the Skies.
Born on the Pinnions of their purer Cries;
Which court at once, and scale the Skies.
Sleep then, sad Eyes; do not despair
When next you ope to find th' effects of Pray'r;
For Heav'n was hers, she Heaven's care.
When next you ope to find th' effects of Pray'r;
For Heav'n was hers, she Heaven's care.
Awake again! this sadly shows
That falling Drops not always bring Repose;
Nor will Streams let my Flood-gates close.
That falling Drops not always bring Repose;
Nor will Streams let my Flood-gates close.
My Grief flows with a constant Tide,
Which does the Ocean's shallow Ebbs deride,
And swell'd does o're my Eye-banks glide.
Which does the Ocean's shallow Ebbs deride,
And swell'd does o're my Eye-banks glide.
Not yet wept dry! my Tears increase!
After such Show'rs methinks this Rain should cease;
Yet Griefs, like Heat, new Vapours raise.
After such Show'rs methinks this Rain should cease;
Yet Griefs, like Heat, new Vapours raise.
Mix'd with my Ink let my Tears run;
And let thy holy Spirit move thereon,
To make a sacred Helicon.
And let thy holy Spirit move thereon,
To make a sacred Helicon.
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Which, like to Jordan then shall be,
And cleanse the stains of injur'd Poetry,
Too long defil'd with Leprosie.
And cleanse the stains of injur'd Poetry,
Too long defil'd with Leprosie.
'Tis fit alone to sing thy praise,
Thou who canst only give immortal Bays,
And us above our Fancies raise.
Thou who canst only give immortal Bays,
And us above our Fancies raise.
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