Poems upon Several Occasions By the Reverend Mr. John Pomfret. The Sixth Edition, Corrected. With some Account Of his Life and Writings. To which are added, His Remains |
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 | Poems upon Several Occasions |  |
1
REASON:
A POEM.
Unhappy Man! who thro' successive Years,
From early Youth to Life's last Childhood errs;
No sooner born, but proves a Foe to Truth;
For Infant Reason is o'erpower'd in Youth:
The Cheats of Sense will half our Learning share;
And Pre-Conceptions all our Knowledge are.
Reason, 'tis true, should over Sense preside,
Correct our Notions, and our Judgment guide;
But false Opinions, rooted in the Mind,
Hoodwink the Soul, and keep our Reason blind.
Reason's a Taper, which but saintly burns,
A languid Flame, that glows, and dies by Turns;
We see't a little while, and but a little way,
We travel by its Light, as Men by Day.
But quickly dying, it forsakes us soon,
Like Morning Stars, that never stay till Noon.
From early Youth to Life's last Childhood errs;
No sooner born, but proves a Foe to Truth;
For Infant Reason is o'erpower'd in Youth:
The Cheats of Sense will half our Learning share;
And Pre-Conceptions all our Knowledge are.
Reason, 'tis true, should over Sense preside,
Correct our Notions, and our Judgment guide;
But false Opinions, rooted in the Mind,
Hoodwink the Soul, and keep our Reason blind.
Reason's a Taper, which but saintly burns,
A languid Flame, that glows, and dies by Turns;
We see't a little while, and but a little way,
We travel by its Light, as Men by Day.
2
Like Morning Stars, that never stay till Noon.
The Soul can scarce above the Body rise,
And all we see is with Corporeal Eyes;
Life now does scarce one Glimpse of Light display,
We mourn in Darkness and despair of Day;
That nat'ral Light, once drest with Orient Beams,
Is now diminish'd, and a Twilight seems,
A miscellaneous Composition made,
Of Night, and Day, of Sun-shine, and of Shade.
Thro' an uncertain Medium now we look,
And find That, Falshood, which for Truth we took.
So Rays projected from the Eastern Skies,
Shew the false Day before the Sun can rise.
And all we see is with Corporeal Eyes;
Life now does scarce one Glimpse of Light display,
We mourn in Darkness and despair of Day;
That nat'ral Light, once drest with Orient Beams,
Is now diminish'd, and a Twilight seems,
A miscellaneous Composition made,
Of Night, and Day, of Sun-shine, and of Shade.
Thro' an uncertain Medium now we look,
And find That, Falshood, which for Truth we took.
So Rays projected from the Eastern Skies,
Shew the false Day before the Sun can rise.
That little Knowledge now which Man obtains,
From outward Objects and from Sense he gains;
He like a wretched Slave, must plod and sweat,
By Day must toil, by Night that Toil repeat;
And yet at last what little Fruit he gains?
A Beggar's Harvest glean'd with mighty Pains.
From outward Objects and from Sense he gains;
He like a wretched Slave, must plod and sweat,
By Day must toil, by Night that Toil repeat;
And yet at last what little Fruit he gains?
A Beggar's Harvest glean'd with mighty Pains.
The Passions still predominant will rule,
Ungovern'd, rude, not bred in Reason's School;
Our Understanding they with Darkness fill,
Cause strong Corruptions, and pervert the Will;
On these the Soul, as on some flowing Tide,
Must sit, and on the raging Billows ride,
Hurry'd away, for how can be withstood
Th' impetuous Torrent of the boiling Blood?
Be gone false Hopes, for all our Learning's vain,
Can we be free, where these the Rule maintain:
These are the Tools of Knowledge which we use;
The Spirits heated, will strange things produce;
Tell me who e'er the Passions could controul,
Or from the Body disengage the Soul;
Till this is done, our best Pursuits are vain
To conquer Truth and unmix'd Knowledge gain:
Thro' all the bulky Volumes of the Dead,
And thro' those Books that modern times have bred.
With pain we travel, as thro' moorish Ground,
Where scarce one useful Plant is ever found;
O'er-run with Errors which so thick appear,
Our Search proves vain, no Spark of truth is there.
Ungovern'd, rude, not bred in Reason's School;
Our Understanding they with Darkness fill,
Cause strong Corruptions, and pervert the Will;
On these the Soul, as on some flowing Tide,
Must sit, and on the raging Billows ride,
3
Th' impetuous Torrent of the boiling Blood?
Be gone false Hopes, for all our Learning's vain,
Can we be free, where these the Rule maintain:
These are the Tools of Knowledge which we use;
The Spirits heated, will strange things produce;
Tell me who e'er the Passions could controul,
Or from the Body disengage the Soul;
Till this is done, our best Pursuits are vain
To conquer Truth and unmix'd Knowledge gain:
Thro' all the bulky Volumes of the Dead,
And thro' those Books that modern times have bred.
With pain we travel, as thro' moorish Ground,
Where scarce one useful Plant is ever found;
O'er-run with Errors which so thick appear,
Our Search proves vain, no Spark of truth is there.
What's all the noisy Jargon of the Schools,
But idle Nonsense of laborious Fools,
Who fetter Reason with perplexing Rules.
What in Aquinas, bulky Works are found
Does not enlighten Reason, but confound.
Who travels Scotus swelling Tomes shall find
A Cloud of Darkness rising on the Mind.
In controverted Points can Reason sway,
When Passion or Conceit still hurries us away?
Thus his new Notions Sherlock would instill,
And clear the greatest Mysteries at will.
But by unlucky Wit perplex'd them more,
And made them darker than they were before.
South soon oppos'd him out of Christian Zeal,
Shewing how well he could dispute and rail:
How shall we e'er discover which is right,
When both so eagerly maintain the Fight?
Each does the other's Arguments deride,
Each has the Church and Scripture on his Side.
The sharp ill-natur'd Combat's but a Jest,
Both may be wrong, one perhaps errs the least:
How shall we know which Articles are true,
The Old ones of the Church, or Burnet's New.
In Paths uncertain, and unsafe he treads,
Who blindly follows other's fertile Heads.
What sure, what certain Mark have we to know,
The right or wrong, 'twixt Burgess, Wake, and Howe?
But idle Nonsense of laborious Fools,
Who fetter Reason with perplexing Rules.
What in Aquinas, bulky Works are found
Does not enlighten Reason, but confound.
Who travels Scotus swelling Tomes shall find
A Cloud of Darkness rising on the Mind.
In controverted Points can Reason sway,
When Passion or Conceit still hurries us away?
Thus his new Notions Sherlock would instill,
And clear the greatest Mysteries at will.
But by unlucky Wit perplex'd them more,
And made them darker than they were before.
4
Shewing how well he could dispute and rail:
How shall we e'er discover which is right,
When both so eagerly maintain the Fight?
Each does the other's Arguments deride,
Each has the Church and Scripture on his Side.
The sharp ill-natur'd Combat's but a Jest,
Both may be wrong, one perhaps errs the least:
How shall we know which Articles are true,
The Old ones of the Church, or Burnet's New.
In Paths uncertain, and unsafe he treads,
Who blindly follows other's fertile Heads.
What sure, what certain Mark have we to know,
The right or wrong, 'twixt Burgess, Wake, and Howe?
Should untun'd Nature crave the Medic Art,
What Health can that contentious Tribe impart?
Ev'ry Physician writes a diff'rent Bill,
And gives no other Reason but his Will.
No longer boast your Art, ye impious Race,
Let Wars 'twixt Alcalies and Acids cease;
And proud G****ll with Colbatch be at peace.
Gibbons and Radcliffe do but rarely guess,
To Day they've good, to Morrow no Success.
Ev'n Garth and Maurus sometimes shall prevail,
When Gibson, learned Hannes, and Tyson fail:
And more than once, we've seen that blund'ring S***ne
Missing the Gout, by chance has hit the Stone;
The Patient does the lucky Error find,
A Cure he works, tho' not the Cure design'd.
What Health can that contentious Tribe impart?
Ev'ry Physician writes a diff'rent Bill,
And gives no other Reason but his Will.
No longer boast your Art, ye impious Race,
Let Wars 'twixt Alcalies and Acids cease;
And proud G****ll with Colbatch be at peace.
Gibbons and Radcliffe do but rarely guess,
To Day they've good, to Morrow no Success.
Ev'n Garth and Maurus sometimes shall prevail,
When Gibson, learned Hannes, and Tyson fail:
And more than once, we've seen that blund'ring S***ne
Missing the Gout, by chance has hit the Stone;
5
A Cure he works, tho' not the Cure design'd.
Custom, the World's great Idol we adore,
And knowing this, we seek to know no more;
What Education did at first receive,
Our ripen'd Age confirms us to believe;
The careful Nurse, and Priest is all we need
To learn Opinions and our Country's Creed;
The Parents Precepts early are instill'd,
And spoil the Man, while they instruct the Child.
To what hard Fate is Human kind betray'd,
When thus implicit Faith's a Vertue made?
When Education more than Truth prevails,
And nought is Current but what Custom seals;
Thus from the time we first begin to know,
We live and learn, but not the wiser grow.
And knowing this, we seek to know no more;
What Education did at first receive,
Our ripen'd Age confirms us to believe;
The careful Nurse, and Priest is all we need
To learn Opinions and our Country's Creed;
The Parents Precepts early are instill'd,
And spoil the Man, while they instruct the Child.
To what hard Fate is Human kind betray'd,
When thus implicit Faith's a Vertue made?
When Education more than Truth prevails,
And nought is Current but what Custom seals;
Thus from the time we first begin to know,
We live and learn, but not the wiser grow.
We seldom use our Liberty aright,
Nor judge of things by universal Light;
Our Prepossessions and Affections bind
The Soul in Chains, and Lord it o'er the Mind;
And if Self-Interest be but in the Case,
Our unexamin'd Principles may pass.
Good Heavens! that Man should thus himself deceive,
To learn on Credit, and on Trust believe;
Better the Mind no Notions had retain'd,
But still a fair unwritten Blank remain'd;
For now, who Truth from Falshood would discern,
Must first disrobe the Mind, and all unlearn:
Errors contracted in unmindful Youth
When once remov'd, will smooth the way to truth:
To dispossess the Child the Mortal lives,
But Death approaches e'er the Man arrives.
Nor judge of things by universal Light;
Our Prepossessions and Affections bind
The Soul in Chains, and Lord it o'er the Mind;
And if Self-Interest be but in the Case,
Our unexamin'd Principles may pass.
Good Heavens! that Man should thus himself deceive,
To learn on Credit, and on Trust believe;
Better the Mind no Notions had retain'd,
But still a fair unwritten Blank remain'd;
For now, who Truth from Falshood would discern,
Must first disrobe the Mind, and all unlearn:
6
When once remov'd, will smooth the way to truth:
To dispossess the Child the Mortal lives,
But Death approaches e'er the Man arrives.
Those who would Learning's glorious Kingdom find,
The dear bought Purchase of the Trading Mind;
From many Dangers must themselves acquit,
And more than Scylla and Charibdis meet;
Oh! What an Ocean must be Voyag'd o'er,
To gain a Prospect of the shining Shore;
Resisting Rocks oppose th' inquiring Soul,
And adverse Waves retard it as they roll.
The dear bought Purchase of the Trading Mind;
From many Dangers must themselves acquit,
And more than Scylla and Charibdis meet;
Oh! What an Ocean must be Voyag'd o'er,
To gain a Prospect of the shining Shore;
Resisting Rocks oppose th' inquiring Soul,
And adverse Waves retard it as they roll.
Does not that foolish Deference we pay,
To Men that liv'd long since, our Passage stay?
What odd prepost'rous Paths at first we tread?
And learn to walk, by stumbling on the Dead.
First we a Blessing from the Grave implore,
Worship Old Urns, and Monuments adore.
The rev'rend Sage with vast Esteem we prize,
He liv'd long since, and must be wond'rous Wise;
Thus are we Debtors to the famous Dead,
For all those Errors which their Fancies bred;
Errors indeed! for real Knowledge staid
With those first times, nor farther was convey'd:
While light Opinions are much lower brought,
For on the Waves of Ignorance they float;
But solid truth scarce ever gains the Shore,
So soon it sinks and ne'er emerges more.
To Men that liv'd long since, our Passage stay?
What odd prepost'rous Paths at first we tread?
And learn to walk, by stumbling on the Dead.
First we a Blessing from the Grave implore,
Worship Old Urns, and Monuments adore.
The rev'rend Sage with vast Esteem we prize,
He liv'd long since, and must be wond'rous Wise;
Thus are we Debtors to the famous Dead,
For all those Errors which their Fancies bred;
Errors indeed! for real Knowledge staid
With those first times, nor farther was convey'd:
While light Opinions are much lower brought,
For on the Waves of Ignorance they float;
But solid truth scarce ever gains the Shore,
So soon it sinks and ne'er emerges more.
7
Suppose those many dreadful Dangers past,
Will Knowledge dawn, and bless the Mind at last?
Ah! no, 'tis now inviron'd from our Eyes,
Hides all its Charms, and undiscover'd lies.
Truth like a single Point escapes the Sight,
And claims Intention to perceive it right;
But what resembles truth is soon descry'd,
Spread like a Surface and expanded wide.
The first Man rarely, very rarely finds
The tedious Search of long inquiring Minds;
But yet what's worse, we know not when we err;
What Mark does truth, what bright Distinction bear?
How do we know, that what we Know, is True,
How shall we Falshood Fly, and Truth Pursue;
Let none then here, his certain Knowledge boast,
'Tis all but Probability at most;
This is the easy Purchase of the Mind,
The Vulgar's Treasure, which we soon may find,
But Truth lies hid, and e'er we can explore
The glittering Gem, our fleeting Life is o'er.
Will Knowledge dawn, and bless the Mind at last?
Ah! no, 'tis now inviron'd from our Eyes,
Hides all its Charms, and undiscover'd lies.
Truth like a single Point escapes the Sight,
And claims Intention to perceive it right;
But what resembles truth is soon descry'd,
Spread like a Surface and expanded wide.
The first Man rarely, very rarely finds
The tedious Search of long inquiring Minds;
But yet what's worse, we know not when we err;
What Mark does truth, what bright Distinction bear?
How do we know, that what we Know, is True,
How shall we Falshood Fly, and Truth Pursue;
Let none then here, his certain Knowledge boast,
'Tis all but Probability at most;
This is the easy Purchase of the Mind,
The Vulgar's Treasure, which we soon may find,
But Truth lies hid, and e'er we can explore
The glittering Gem, our fleeting Life is o'er.
8
Dies Novissima:
OR, THE LAST EPIPHANY.
A Pindarick Ode, on Christ's Second Appearance to Judge the World.
I.
Adieu, ye toyish Reeds, that once could pleaseMy softer Lips, and lull my Cares to Ease;
Be gone; I'll waste no more vain Hours with you,
And smiling Sylvia too, Adieu,
A brighter Pow'r invokes my Muse,
And loftier Thoughts, and Raptures, does infuse,
See! beck'ning from yon Cloud, He stands,
And promises Assistance with his Hands,
I feel the heavy rolling God,
Incumbent, revel in his frail Abode,
9
I sink, I sink, beneath the furious Heat,
The weighty Bliss o'erwhelms my Breast,
And over-flowing Joys profusely waste;
Some nobler Bard, O Sacred Pow'r, inspire,
Or Soul more large, th' Elapses to receive,
And, brighter yet, to catch the Fire,
And each gay following Charm, from Death, to save,
—In vain the Suit—the God inflames my Breast,
I rave, with Extasies opprest,
I rise, the Mountains lessen, and retire,
And now I mix, unsing'd, with Elemental Fire,
The leading Deity, I have in view,
Nor Mortal knows as yet, what Wonders will ensue;
II.
We pass'd thro' Regions of unsully'd Light,I gaz'd, and sicken'd at the blissful Sight,
A shudd'ring Paleness seiz'd my Look,
At last the Pest Flew off, and thus I spoke;
“Say, Sacred Guide, shall this bright Clime
“Survive the fatal Test of Time,
“Or perish, with our Mortal Globe below,
“When yon Sun no longer shines?
Straight I finisht, —veiling low;
The Visionary Pow'r rejoins,
“'Tis not for you, to ask, nor mine, to say,
“The Niceties of that tremendous Day,
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“And finish'd are the radiant Journeys of the Sun,
“The great Decisive Morn shall rise,
“And Heaven's Bright Judge appear in opening Skies,
“Eternal Grace, and Justice, He'll bestow
“On all the trembling World below;
III.
He said; I mus'd, and thus return'd,What Ensigns, courteous Stranger, tell,
Shall the brooding Day reveal?
He answer'd mild—
“Already, stupid with their Crimes,
“Blind Mortals, prostrate to their Idols, lie,
“Such were the boding times,
“E'er Ruin blasted from the Sluicy Sky,
“Dissolv'd they lay, in fulsom Ease,
“And revell'd in luxuriant Peace,
“In Bacchanals, they did their Hours consume,
“And Bacchanals led on, their swift, advancing Doom;
IV.
Adult'rate Christs already rise,And dare to 'swage the angry Skies,
Erratick throngs, their Saviour's Blood deny,
And from the Cross, alas! He does neglected sigh,
The Anti-Christian Pow'r has rais'd his Hydra-Head,
And Ruin, only less than Jesus, Health, does spread,
11
That scarcely ranker is a Fury's Blood,
Yet specious Artifice, and fair Disguise,
The Monster's Shape, and curst Designs, belies,
A Fiend's black Venom, in an Angel's Mien,
He quaffs, and scatters the contagious Spleen,
Straight, when He finishes his lawless Reign,
Nature shall paint the shining Scene,
Quick, as the Light'ning, which inspires the Train;
V.
Forward Confusion shall provoke the Fray.And Nature, from her antient Order, stray,
Black tempests, gath'ring from the Seas around,
In horrid Ranges shall advance,
And as they march, in thickest Sables drown'd,
The Rival Thunder from the Clouds shall sound,
And Light'nings join the fearful Dance,
The blust'ring Armies o'er the Skies shall spread,
And universal terror shed,
Loud issuing Peals, and rising Sheets of Smoke.
Th' encumber'd Region of the Air shall choke,
The noisy Main shall lave the suff'ring Shore,
And from the Rocks the breaking Billows roar,
Black Thunder bursts, blue Light'ning burns,
And melting Worlds to Heaps of Ashes turns,
The Forests shall beneath the Tempest bend,
And rugged Winds the nodding Cedars rend;
12
VI.
Reverse, all Nature's Webb shall run,And spotless Misrule all around,
Order, its flying Foe, confound,
Whilst backward all the threads shall haste to be unspun,
Triumphant Chaos, with his oblique Wand,
(The Wand, with which, e'er time begun,
His wand'ring Slaves he did command,
And made 'em scamper right, and in rude Ranges run.)
The hostile Harmony, shall chace,
And as the Nymph resigns her place,
And panting to the neighb'ring Refuge, flies,
The formless Russian slaughters with his Eyes,
And following, storms the perching Dame's Retreat,
Adding the terror of his threat;
The Globe shall faintly tremble round,
And backward jolt, distorted with the wound;
VII.
Swath'd in substantial Shrowds of Night,The sick'ning Sun, shall from the World retire,
Stript of his dazling Robes of Fire,
Which dangling once shed round a lavish Flood of Light
No frail Eclipse, but all Essential Shade,
Not yielding to Primæval Gloom,
Whilst Day was yet an Embryo in the Womb,
13
A Jetty Mixture of the Darkness, spread
O'er murmuring Ægypt's Head,
And that, which Angels drew
O'er Nature's Face, when Jesus dy'd,
Which sleeping Ghosts for this mistook,
And rising, off their hanging Funerals, shook,
And fleeting pass'd, expos'd their bloodless Breasts to View,
Yet find it not so dark, and to their Dormitories glide.
VIII.
Now bolder Fires appear,And o'er the palpable Obscurement sport,
Glaring and gay as falling Lucifer,
Yet mark'd with Fate as when he Fled th' Etherial Court;
And plung'd into the op'ning Gulph of Night;
A Sabre of Immortal Flame I bore,
And, with this Arm, his Flour'shing Plume I tore,
And straight the Fiend retreated from the Fight.
IX.
Mean time the lambent Prodigies on high,Take gamesome Measures in the Sky,
Joy'd with his future Feast, the Thunder roars
In Chorus to th' enormous Harmony;
And hollows to his Off-spring from sulphurious Stores,
Applauding how they tilt, and how they fly,
And their each nimble Turn, and radiant Embassy.
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X.
The Moon turns paler at the sight,And all the blazing Orbs deny their Light;
The Light'ning, with its livid Tail,
A Train of glitt'ring Terrors, draws behind,
Which o'er the trembling World prevail,
Wing'd, and blown on, by Storms of Wind,
They shew the hideous Leaps on either Hand
Of Night, that spreads her Ebon Curtains round,
And there erects her royal Stand,
In seven-fold winding Jett, her conscious temples bound.
XI.
The Stars, next, starting from their Sphere,In giddy Revolutions leap and bound,
Whilst This with double Fury glares,
And meditates new Wars,
And wheels in sportive Gyres around,
It's Neighbour shall advance to fight,
And while each offers to enlarge its Right,
The general Ruin shall increase,
And banish all the Votaries of Peace;
No more the Stars, with paler Beams,
Shall tremble o'er the Midnight Streams,
But travel downward to behold,
What mimicks 'em, so twink'ling There,
And, like Narcissus, as they gain more near,
15
And agonize in warm Desire,
Or slake their Lust, as in the Stream they roll;
XII.
Whilst the World burns, and all the Orbs below,In their viperous Ruins glow,
They sink, and unsupported leave the Skies,
Which fall abrupt, and tell their torment in the Noise,
Then see th' Almighty Judge, sedate, and bright,
Cloath'd in Imperial Robes of Light,
His Wings the Winds, rough Storms the Chariot bear,
And nimbler Harbingers before him Fly,
And with officious Rudeness brush the Air,
Halt as he halts, then doubling in their Flight,
In horrid Sport, with one another vie,
And leave behind quick-winding tracts of Light;
Then urging, to their Ranks they close,
And shiv'ring lest they start, a Sailing Caravan compose.
XIII.
The mighty Judge rides in tempestuous State,Whilst menial Guards of Flame his Orders wait,
His waving Vestments shine,
Bright as the Sun, which lately did its Beams resign,
And burnish'd Wreaths of Light shall make his Form Divine,
Strong Beams of Majesty around his temples play,
And the transcendent Gaity of his Face allay,
16
And both o'erwhelm with Light, and over awe with Fear;
Myriads of Angels shall be there,
And I, perhaps, close the tremendous Rear;
Angels, the first and fairest Sons of Day,
Clad with eternal Youth, and, as their Vestments, gay;
XIV.
Nor, for Magnificence alone,To brighten and enlarge the Pageant Scene,
Shall we encircle his more dazling throne,
And swell the Lustre of his pompous train,
The nimble Ministers of Bliss or Woe,
We shall attend, and save, or deal the Blow,
As He admits to Joy, or bids to Pain.
XV.
The welcome News,Thro' ev'ry Angel's Breast, fresh Raptures shall diffuse,
The Day is come,
When Satan, with his Pow'rs, shall sink to endless Doom,
No more shall we his hostile troops pursue,
From Cloud to Cloud, nor the long Fight renew;
XVI.
Then Raphael, big with Life, the Trump shall sound;From falling Spheres, the joyful Musick shall rebound,
And Seas and Shores shall catch, and propagate it round,
17
Than when, from Sinai's Hill,
In Thunder, thro' the horrid redd'ning Smoke,
Th' Almighty spoke;
We'll shout around with Martial Joy
And thrice the vaulted Skies shall rend, and thrice our Shouts reply,
Then first th' Arch-Angel's Voice, aloud,
Shall chearfully salute the Day, and Throng,
And Hallelujahs fill the Crowd,
And I, perhaps, shall close the Song.
XVII.
From it's long Sleep, all Human Race shall rise,And see the Morn, and Judge advancing in the Skies,
To their Old Tenements, the Souls return,
Whilst down the Steep of Heav'n, as swift, the Judge descends,
These look illustrious bright, no more to mourn,
Whilst, see! distracted Looks yon stalking Shade attend,
The Saints no more shall conflict on the Deep,
Nor rugged Waves insult the lab'ring Ship,
But from the Wreck in Triumph they arise,
And borne to Bliss, shall tread Empyreal Skies.
FINIS.
| Poems upon Several Occasions | |