Miscellaneous Poems, with some Remarks on the Death of King Charles the II And the Happy Succession of King James the II. In a Poem to the Magistracy of England. By John Whitehall |
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To the University of Oxford.
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 | Miscellaneous Poems, with some Remarks on the Death of King Charles the II |  |
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To the University of Oxford.
I.
Hail!All Hail?
Masters of Sacred Sciences,
Fathers of Arts and Languages,
Ye who both Men and Things do know,
Who've traced old coy Nature so,
That y'are acquainted with her Mysteries,
Both things above, and things below,
From th' inehausted Womb of your most fertile brain
(With half a Parents pain)
Noble Off-springs do proceed,
In which the Mothers Beauty we may read;
Each fruitful day produces some great Birth,
Your Fiat makes new Worlds of Learning to jump forth.
II.
Thrice have I view'd, thrice wish'd to sojourn in this Land,In which doth stand
The unforbidden Tree of Knowledge; Thrice
Have begg'd to tast the fruit of this sweet Paradice,
Which (tho' by Nature Man imperfect be,
Yet) by a mystick Chymistry
Improves the Soul with so much odds,
That Mortals seem Immortal as the Gods.
O that I might possess
So great an happiness!
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I could thrice Jacob's time for such a Rachel wait.
III.
Your Sciences I at a distance view,I hear of Arts, and I believe them true,
But what they are I never knew:
Thus of the Deity the Heathens have
Some glimpse, but yet not know enough to save.
Philosophy, Astrology,
Divinity, and Chymistry,
Are glorious things, but all unknown to me.
Thus from afar
We view the Sun, the Moon, and Star,
That they ere shining Bodies we discern,
But cannot their true Magnitude nor Lustre learn.
IV.
I sue, and with no common Zeal I sire,To gather Learnings Manna here with You:
O that I could but write
Sweet as the Mantuan Swan, or mighty Stagyrite!
My lab'ring Muse
Should the full strength of ev'ry sinew use;
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But wrestle till I did the Blessing gain;
A pow'rful Verse might favour find,
And importunity might make some Angel kind.
II.
With vain ambition round the World I roul,In vain I travel far
From Pole to Pole,
To seek where Riches and Preferments are;
In vain I after Honours go:
Alas! too well I know,
Those Heav'ns are shut, there is no entrance there,
Till I'm a Member made by being baptiz'd here.
If in this Styx I might but dipped be,
I should from dang'rous Ignorance be free,
And share of Immortality:
But now the World refuses me, among the Crowd
I cannot be allow'd,
Like Mettal when the Coin is base,
They will not let me pass.
Had I your Stamp, might I be Capp'd & Gown'd,
I then might pass the Universe around.
| Miscellaneous Poems, with some Remarks on the Death of King Charles the II | |