The grand Tryal or, Poetical Exercitations upon the book of Job. Wherein, Suitable to each Text of that sacred Book, a modest Explanation, and Continuation of the several Discourses contained in it, is attempted by William Clark |
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| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| II. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| III. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| IV. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| V. |
| XXXVIII. | Cap. XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
 | The grand Tryal |  |
Cap. XXXVIII.
The Storm increasing, and the Clouds appearing
Still to augment the Darkness, stead of clearing,
The Thunder roaring, and the Lightning flying
Before the face of God so terrifying,
As both th'afflicted man, his friends, and those,
Who then were present, firmly did suppose
This threatning Storm would suddenly renverse
The goodly Fabrick of the Universe:
At least they fancied those distracted Clouds
Would shake out quickly most prodigious Flouds
On th'Earth, and by a Deluge general,
As once before, again o'rewhelm them all.
Still to augment the Darkness, stead of clearing,
The Thunder roaring, and the Lightning flying
Before the face of God so terrifying,
As both th'afflicted man, his friends, and those,
Who then were present, firmly did suppose
This threatning Storm would suddenly renverse
The goodly Fabrick of the Universe:
At least they fancied those distracted Clouds
Would shake out quickly most prodigious Flouds
On th'Earth, and by a Deluge general,
As once before, again o'rewhelm them all.
In these sad apprehensions, damp'd with fear,
At length out of the Whirlwind, they could hear,
After the ceasing of that dreadful noise,
A soft, but most intelligible Voice:
A Voice so audible, a Voice so free,
A Voice, which all could hear, but none could see
The mighty Speaker.—
And now both Plaintiffs, and Defendant too
Undone with horrour, could, with much ado,
Retain their spirits, when they see indeed
That God himself to Justice would proceed,
Himself in Person, and determine what
Had been th'occasion of so much debate:
Whilst none of 'em would yield t'each other, none
Would be determin'd but by God alone.
He therefore, to make all their jarrings cease,
Doth thus at length give judgment on the Case.
At length out of the Whirlwind, they could hear,
After the ceasing of that dreadful noise,
A soft, but most intelligible Voice:
A Voice so audible, a Voice so free,
A Voice, which all could hear, but none could see
The mighty Speaker.—
And now both Plaintiffs, and Defendant too
Undone with horrour, could, with much ado,
Retain their spirits, when they see indeed
That God himself to Justice would proceed,
Himself in Person, and determine what
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Whilst none of 'em would yield t'each other, none
Would be determin'd but by God alone.
He therefore, to make all their jarrings cease,
Doth thus at length give judgment on the Case.
Who's he, says God, presumes thus to debate,
On what I've ordred? who is he dares state
Himself my Party? who's the man?—who's he,
That offers to debate the Case with me?
Who, who's the man, that, with such insolence,
Dares canvass thus my acts of Providence?
Who's he, to whom I've given life, and breath,
Dares utter such rebellious words of Death?
Show me the man, you Slaves, amongst you all,
That dares what I design in question call?
Because forsooth, in kindness, I've bestow'd
A little Reason on you, you grow proud:
Why could not I, you Things profusely vain,
At first have made you Beasts as well as Men,
Nay cannot I reduce you all again
To your first Principles, and let you see
All your Subsistence doth depend on me?
Why then?—
Should such, as I from nothing did create,
Presume to be my Secretars of State?
Should such as you, whom I've distinguished
From other Creatures, offer to implead
That Power, which made you such? or when you meet
In your wise Consults, offer to debate
On my Proceedings? should such Wasps, as you
Dare but repine at any thing I do?
Should such as only by my favour live,
Presume to quarrel my Prerogative?
Can any humane Reason comprehend
What I have done, or what I do intend?
No—know, all of you, I'me your God, and King,
No more then of your foolish reasoning.
On what I've ordred? who is he dares state
Himself my Party? who's the man?—who's he,
That offers to debate the Case with me?
Who, who's the man, that, with such insolence,
Dares canvass thus my acts of Providence?
Who's he, to whom I've given life, and breath,
Dares utter such rebellious words of Death?
Show me the man, you Slaves, amongst you all,
That dares what I design in question call?
Because forsooth, in kindness, I've bestow'd
A little Reason on you, you grow proud:
Why could not I, you Things profusely vain,
At first have made you Beasts as well as Men,
Nay cannot I reduce you all again
To your first Principles, and let you see
All your Subsistence doth depend on me?
Why then?—
Should such, as I from nothing did create,
Presume to be my Secretars of State?
Should such as you, whom I've distinguished
From other Creatures, offer to implead
That Power, which made you such? or when you meet
In your wise Consults, offer to debate
On my Proceedings? should such Wasps, as you
Dare but repine at any thing I do?
Should such as only by my favour live,
Presume to quarrel my Prerogative?
Can any humane Reason comprehend
What I have done, or what I do intend?
No—know, all of you, I'me your God, and King,
No more then of your foolish reasoning.
Now as for thee, thou Job, whom I did raise,
And let thee see a deal of golden Days,
Who of all earthly blessings mad'st collection,
And liv'd most happy under my protection,
Enjoying all thou couldst project, yet now,
Thou ungrate man, thou must be prating too:
Thou must be medling with my Providence,
And asking Questions, with great impudence,
Why I permit this, or that man to live,
At their convenience, and all blessings give
To such, as do not merit at my hand,
Whilst others at my doors, unserved stand,
Whose Piety did merit better things?
And so proceeds in foolish murmurings
Against my Actings: nay thou dost proceed
To greater hights: and dost desire to plead
Thy Case with me, and that so freely too,
As one man with another man would do.
I've heard thee all this while, with patience,
Make formal Harrangues on thy innocence:
I've heard thee speak, and argue all along
Against me, as if I had done thee wrong.
Because I did think fit to change thy state,
Therefore in passion thou'd expostulate
With me for doing so: since then thou hast
So oft deni'd to plead with me, at last
Shalt have thy wish: and since thou wilt not be
Convinc'd by those, who have discours'd with thee
By my appointment, and will yeeld to none
In thy opinions, but to me alone—
—It shall be so:—I'le argue now the case
My self with thee, and show thee in thy face
How thou hast err'd, I'le let thee plainly see
I am not such as men take me to be,
But am, what neither thou, nor any thing
That breaths on earth from woman issuing
Can comprehend.—
Go too then Job, behave thee, like a man,
I'le ask the question, answer if thou can.
And let thee see a deal of golden Days,
Who of all earthly blessings mad'st collection,
And liv'd most happy under my protection,
Enjoying all thou couldst project, yet now,
Thou ungrate man, thou must be prating too:
Thou must be medling with my Providence,
And asking Questions, with great impudence,
Why I permit this, or that man to live,
At their convenience, and all blessings give
To such, as do not merit at my hand,
Whilst others at my doors, unserved stand,
Whose Piety did merit better things?
And so proceeds in foolish murmurings
Against my Actings: nay thou dost proceed
To greater hights: and dost desire to plead
Thy Case with me, and that so freely too,
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I've heard thee all this while, with patience,
Make formal Harrangues on thy innocence:
I've heard thee speak, and argue all along
Against me, as if I had done thee wrong.
Because I did think fit to change thy state,
Therefore in passion thou'd expostulate
With me for doing so: since then thou hast
So oft deni'd to plead with me, at last
Shalt have thy wish: and since thou wilt not be
Convinc'd by those, who have discours'd with thee
By my appointment, and will yeeld to none
In thy opinions, but to me alone—
—It shall be so:—I'le argue now the case
My self with thee, and show thee in thy face
How thou hast err'd, I'le let thee plainly see
I am not such as men take me to be,
But am, what neither thou, nor any thing
That breaths on earth from woman issuing
Can comprehend.—
Go too then Job, behave thee, like a man,
I'le ask the question, answer if thou can.
Say then, poor mortal man, where wast thou—say
When I at first did Earths Foundations lay?
Where wast thou pray, hadst thou a beeing then?
Didst thou exist, wast thou created when
I did this Glorious Work at first commence,
And ordered all things so by Providence;
As I no sooner did this thing intend,
Than instantly the work was at an end.
When I at first did Earths Foundations lay?
Where wast thou pray, hadst thou a beeing then?
Didst thou exist, wast thou created when
I did this Glorious Work at first commence,
And ordered all things so by Providence;
As I no sooner did this thing intend,
Than instantly the work was at an end.
Who did the Model of this World design?
Who drew the Plan thereof? who stretcht the Line
From Pole, to Pole, on which as all may see,
It yet doth roul, as on an Axel-tree.
Who measur'd out at first the vast extent
Of this huge Glob? or by what instrument
Was all, that now the universe is nam'd,
At first into a perfect Circle fram'd?
Who drew the Plan thereof? who stretcht the Line
From Pole, to Pole, on which as all may see,
It yet doth roul, as on an Axel-tree.
Who measur'd out at first the vast extent
Of this huge Glob? or by what instrument
Was all, that now the universe is nam'd,
At first into a perfect Circle fram'd?
Upon what grounds are the Foundations laid
Of this great Fabrick, which my hands have made?
Canst thou, O man, by all thy art find out
On what this Glob of earth doth rest? I doubt
Thou never canst imagine how a thing
Of so much weight, i'th' open air can hing,
Without some Nail, on which by Chain or String,
Such a vast ponderous body should depend:
I know this doth thy reason quite transcend.
Dost know how every Atome doth support
Each other in that Mass in such a sort,
As no part upon any part doth rest,
Nor are light parts by heavy parts deprest,
But altogether solid, firm, and sure,
Ly in one lump, by Æquilibrature:
And for the Air, that subtile, fluid, thing,
Which 'bout this Orb, like a soft rind, doth cling,
And fills up every waste, hole pore, or chink,
That's in this Glob; what dost thou of it think,
Dost think that can so great a weight sustain,
That in its own sphere doth subsist with pain
Shattered each hour, by Thunder, Lightning, Rain,
No truely, it doth upon nothing rest,
So that all your opinions at the best
Of the supporters of this earthen Ball
Are but mere notions, and conjectures all.
Of this great Fabrick, which my hands have made?
Canst thou, O man, by all thy art find out
On what this Glob of earth doth rest? I doubt
Thou never canst imagine how a thing
Of so much weight, i'th' open air can hing,
Without some Nail, on which by Chain or String,
Such a vast ponderous body should depend:
I know this doth thy reason quite transcend.
Dost know how every Atome doth support
Each other in that Mass in such a sort,
As no part upon any part doth rest,
Nor are light parts by heavy parts deprest,
But altogether solid, firm, and sure,
Ly in one lump, by Æquilibrature:
And for the Air, that subtile, fluid, thing,
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And fills up every waste, hole pore, or chink,
That's in this Glob; what dost thou of it think,
Dost think that can so great a weight sustain,
That in its own sphere doth subsist with pain
Shattered each hour, by Thunder, Lightning, Rain,
No truely, it doth upon nothing rest,
So that all your opinions at the best
Of the supporters of this earthen Ball
Are but mere notions, and conjectures all.
Then where wer't thou when I at first did lay
The Worlds Foundations, when the blushing Day
Did first appear, and all my numerous croud
Of Angels did for joy cry out aloud,
When they perceiv'd all I had done was good.
Where wast thou pray, when all that now thy Eye
Perceives distinct did in confusion ly.
The Worlds Foundations, when the blushing Day
Did first appear, and all my numerous croud
Of Angels did for joy cry out aloud,
When they perceiv'd all I had done was good.
Where wast thou pray, when all that now thy Eye
Perceives distinct did in confusion ly.
When the luxuriant Seas did issue out
Of Natures pregnant womb, and grasp'd about
The spongious Earth so close, as by the Flouds
Its face was covered, as 'tis now by Clouds:
When then in these the Earth lay sopp'd around,
And nothing like dry Land was to be found,
All being under Water.—
Who did their rage (else boundless) limitate,
And within doors, as 'twere incarcerate
Those furious Seas, which now with all their power
Cannot o'reflow Earths surface to this hour.
Of Natures pregnant womb, and grasp'd about
The spongious Earth so close, as by the Flouds
Its face was covered, as 'tis now by Clouds:
When then in these the Earth lay sopp'd around,
And nothing like dry Land was to be found,
All being under Water.—
Who did their rage (else boundless) limitate,
And within doors, as 'twere incarcerate
Those furious Seas, which now with all their power
Cannot o'reflow Earths surface to this hour.
Who was it then that first this Earth did drain,
And from the Land so separate the main,
As they should never be unite again?
Who was it pray? dost know? why it was I,
Thy God, and Maker: I did speedily
As with a swadling Band of darkest Clouds,
Ty up those Infant, and disordered Flouds.
Then in a distinct body I did frame
Those rouling Waves, and them a Sea did name.
I cast them off the Earth, and by and by
I did assign them a Locality,
In which they might thereafter domineer
And roar their fill, but never more appear
Upon the Earth, and overwhelm the Land
Without my warrand, and express command.
And from the Land so separate the main,
As they should never be unite again?
Who was it pray? dost know? why it was I,
Thy God, and Maker: I did speedily
As with a swadling Band of darkest Clouds,
Ty up those Infant, and disordered Flouds.
Then in a distinct body I did frame
Those rouling Waves, and them a Sea did name.
I cast them off the Earth, and by and by
I did assign them a Locality,
In which they might thereafter domineer
And roar their fill, but never more appear
Upon the Earth, and overwhelm the Land
Without my warrand, and express command.
Such bounds I for these Billows measured out
As I thought good, and fenc'd them round about,
With earthen Ramparts, such as might expell
Their fury, when they should begin to swell,
And make them tamely within bounds contain,
For all their lofty pride, and numerous train,
Assaulting oft these Ramparts, but in vain.
As I thought good, and fenc'd them round about,
With earthen Ramparts, such as might expell
Their fury, when they should begin to swell,
And make them tamely within bounds contain,
For all their lofty pride, and numerous train,
Assaulting oft these Ramparts, but in vain.
I said unto them—thus far shall you go:
No further, in High Spring-tydes shall you flow,
I charge you that you do encroach no more
Upon the Earth, this Line shall be your Shore.
No further, in High Spring-tydes shall you flow,
I charge you that you do encroach no more
Upon the Earth, this Line shall be your Shore.
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Dost know what light is pray, or to what end
Both this, and darknesse, I on Earth did send?
Dost know the reasons, which made me conclude
At first upon this strange vicissitude
Of day and night? or why I overspread
The glorious face of Earth, which I have made
With clouds of darkness? so that what of late
Appear'd in a most beauteous pomp, and state,
Whilst light did shine, and feasted curious eyes,
With all the choice, and rich varieties.
That heart could wish, doth suddainly appear
An object, not of pleasure, but of fear?
When then the Sun is gone, when he is fled,
And darknesse doth the face of Earth o'respread:
Canst thou command him to return, with light,
T'allay the horrour of a Winters night?
Or canst thou hire him to diffuse his rays
Before his time? didst ever in thy days,
Attempt such a light wind-mill enterprise,
As to make day spring e're the morning rise.
Both this, and darknesse, I on Earth did send?
Dost know the reasons, which made me conclude
At first upon this strange vicissitude
Of day and night? or why I overspread
The glorious face of Earth, which I have made
With clouds of darkness? so that what of late
Appear'd in a most beauteous pomp, and state,
Whilst light did shine, and feasted curious eyes,
With all the choice, and rich varieties.
That heart could wish, doth suddainly appear
An object, not of pleasure, but of fear?
When then the Sun is gone, when he is fled,
And darknesse doth the face of Earth o'respread:
Canst thou command him to return, with light,
T'allay the horrour of a Winters night?
Or canst thou hire him to diffuse his rays
Before his time? didst ever in thy days,
Attempt such a light wind-mill enterprise,
As to make day spring e're the morning rise.
But when this Sun by my command appears
Upon Earths utmost confines, and still bears
Upward to his full Orb:—
Then doth your darknesse quickly steal away,
With all its allies, at the break of day,
For when the Sun out of his sleep awakes,
Those things like downs from coverlet he shakes,
Which do in darknesse trade: at sight o'th' Sun
Night-walkers, into holes, and corners run.
Upon Earths utmost confines, and still bears
Upward to his full Orb:—
Then doth your darknesse quickly steal away,
With all its allies, at the break of day,
For when the Sun out of his sleep awakes,
Those things like downs from coverlet he shakes,
Which do in darknesse trade: at sight o'th' Sun
Night-walkers, into holes, and corners run.
Whilst th'Earth, which by its absence void of light,
Shut up behind the curtains of the night,
Appear'd without all form; at break of day,
As upon washen, and well tempered Clay,
A new impression brightly doth appear,
Is in her morning dresse, most bright, and clear.
Shut up behind the curtains of the night,
Appear'd without all form; at break of day,
As upon washen, and well tempered Clay,
A new impression brightly doth appear,
Is in her morning dresse, most bright, and clear.
At break of day, the labourer breaks his rest,
And to the field, with every working beast,
He cheerfully doth march: nothing afraid,
Because pursuing of his lawful trade.
Whilst Drunkards, Gamesters, Whores, Adulterers,
Murderers, Lifters, Thieves, and Burglarers,
Who in the night-time do their businesse,
Assoon's the Sun begins to show his face,
Run all into their lurking holes annon,
And at the break of day they're broke, and gone.
And to the field, with every working beast,
He cheerfully doth march: nothing afraid,
Because pursuing of his lawful trade.
Whilst Drunkards, Gamesters, Whores, Adulterers,
Murderers, Lifters, Thieves, and Burglarers,
Who in the night-time do their businesse,
Assoon's the Sun begins to show his face,
Run all into their lurking holes annon,
And at the break of day they're broke, and gone.
Next, as to darknesse:—dost thou comprehend
What thing that is? or what I do intend
By this privation, what's the use of it?
What is its scope? for what end is it fit?
Sure thou who understand'st not what is light,
Which every day is obvious to thy sight,
Canst never understand obscurity,
A thing that's not perceptible by th'eye.
Didst ever into the Seas bottom dive?
Or canst thou yet, with all thy art contrive
A way to trace, and measure the extent
Of that dark Land? or know what Government
Is us'd by th'Planters of these Provinces,
Situate in the bottom of the Seas?
Dost know the Springs, and Conduits, that supply
With fresh recruits of Water constantly
The restless Ocean? pray now let me hear,
Dost know what things the weeping sources are;
Dost understand these things? or dost thou know
How from the Seas all Springs and Rivers flow.
What thing that is? or what I do intend
By this privation, what's the use of it?
What is its scope? for what end is it fit?
Sure thou who understand'st not what is light,
Which every day is obvious to thy sight,
Canst never understand obscurity,
A thing that's not perceptible by th'eye.
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Or canst thou yet, with all thy art contrive
A way to trace, and measure the extent
Of that dark Land? or know what Government
Is us'd by th'Planters of these Provinces,
Situate in the bottom of the Seas?
Dost know the Springs, and Conduits, that supply
With fresh recruits of Water constantly
The restless Ocean? pray now let me hear,
Dost know what things the weeping sources are;
Dost understand these things? or dost thou know
How from the Seas all Springs and Rivers flow.
In all thy life-time hast thou ever seen
Deaths gates cast open? has thou never been
Conversant under ground? didst e're descry
That dreadful prospect of mortality,
Of those who scattered in earths bowels ly?
Did e're thy curiosity lead thee there?
No, at the gates sure thou hadst dy'd for fear.
Deaths gates cast open? has thou never been
Conversant under ground? didst e're descry
That dreadful prospect of mortality,
Of those who scattered in earths bowels ly?
Did e're thy curiosity lead thee there?
No, at the gates sure thou hadst dy'd for fear.
Dost know earth's true Diameter, canst tell
How far in breadth its Globous bulk doth swell?
Canst see both Poles at once by art, or can
Thy eye discover each Meridian?
How far in breadth its Globous bulk doth swell?
Canst see both Poles at once by art, or can
Thy eye discover each Meridian?
Go to then, canst thou point the place, from whence
Light doth proceed? dost know its residence?
Dost know the Cave where darkness doth reside,
And closly all the day it self doth hide?
Light doth proceed? dost know its residence?
Dost know the Cave where darkness doth reside,
And closly all the day it self doth hide?
That thou shouldst trace the way to its abode,
And through the windings of that dreadful road
Find a safe passage to its dwelling place,
And take the picture of its duskly face?
And through the windings of that dreadful road
Find a safe passage to its dwelling place,
And take the picture of its duskly face?
I think thou dost not know, nor canst declare
What things, O man! the light and darkness are
Because when I created night, and day,
Thou in the belly of first matter lay.
Th'hadst not a beeing then, thou wast not made,
When light, and darkness I distinguished.
Nor canst thou know more, by experience,
Then that both this, and that affect thy sense,
But what they are, from what hid cause they flow,
No art, no length of dayes, can make thee know.
What things, O man! the light and darkness are
Because when I created night, and day,
Thou in the belly of first matter lay.
Th'hadst not a beeing then, thou wast not made,
When light, and darkness I distinguished.
Nor canst thou know more, by experience,
Then that both this, and that affect thy sense,
But what they are, from what hid cause they flow,
No art, no length of dayes, can make thee know.
Hast thou observ'd, with a computing eye,
At any time, and viewed seriously
Th'innumerable stores of Snow, and Hail,
Which I do keep in Heav'ns great Arsenal?
At any time, and viewed seriously
Th'innumerable stores of Snow, and Hail,
Which I do keep in Heav'ns great Arsenal?
Hast view'd those inexhaustible provisions,
How they are stor'd in several divisions?
So that when I intend a war with those
Who on this earth do my decrees oppose:
Sometimes I use the one, sometimes the other,
As I think fit, and sometimes both together,
By force of both, or either, in a trice
I break the force of my proud enemies.
How they are stor'd in several divisions?
So that when I intend a war with those
Who on this earth do my decrees oppose:
Sometimes I use the one, sometimes the other,
As I think fit, and sometimes both together,
By force of both, or either, in a trice
I break the force of my proud enemies.
335
Dost understand how Lightnings separate
The Clouds of Wind: and quickly dissipate
The strongest Bodies of these vaporous foes,
Which do the fury of their course oppose?
Dost understand this thing, or dost thou know
Why wind doth sometimes from one quarter blow,
Sometimes out of another, East, or West,
South, North, Nore-west, South-west, or South-South-east.
The Clouds of Wind: and quickly dissipate
The strongest Bodies of these vaporous foes,
Which do the fury of their course oppose?
Dost understand this thing, or dost thou know
Why wind doth sometimes from one quarter blow,
Sometimes out of another, East, or West,
South, North, Nore-west, South-west, or South-South-east.
Who doth restrain the torrents of those flouds,
Which after Thunder break from broken Clouds,
In such abundant streams, without cessation,
As men do fear a total inundation.
Who makes deep Canals, into which convey'd
Those Waters, as in Levels, gently slide,
Both above ground, and under ground with ease,
Into the bottome of the spacious Seas?
Which after Thunder break from broken Clouds,
In such abundant streams, without cessation,
As men do fear a total inundation.
Who makes deep Canals, into which convey'd
Those Waters, as in Levels, gently slide,
Both above ground, and under ground with ease,
Into the bottome of the spacious Seas?
Who makes the Clouds above thy head retain
Great quantities of Waters, and, in rain,
As from a Sponge, thus shake them out again.
And that not only upon fertile ground,
But on the Deserts, where no man is found.
Great quantities of Waters, and, in rain,
As from a Sponge, thus shake them out again.
And that not only upon fertile ground,
But on the Deserts, where no man is found.
That in due season, they may pasture yield
To all the beasts, that feed upon the field:
And feed those creatures too, whose idleness
Makes them frequent the barren wilderness,
As also make the Vegetables sprout,
And in their Leaves, and Flowers, shoot fairly out
From the earths belly, where they buried were
Until the Mid-wife-Season of the year
By help of rain doth bring them forth, and spreads
Through all the fields the product of those Seeds.
To all the beasts, that feed upon the field:
And feed those creatures too, whose idleness
Makes them frequent the barren wilderness,
As also make the Vegetables sprout,
And in their Leaves, and Flowers, shoot fairly out
From the earths belly, where they buried were
Until the Mid-wife-Season of the year
By help of rain doth bring them forth, and spreads
Through all the fields the product of those Seeds.
Now, if thou think'st this rain is procreat
As other creatures are, who did beget
This useful thing? or who supposest thou
Did procreat the Christal drops of dew?
By which the Labourer rising from his bed,
Perceives his grounds all kindly watered.
And then, as if the Sun had only sent
Those little cordial drops, to complement
The widdowed earth, that doth his absence mourn,
And in sad veil, did long for his return,
With warming beams, he suddenly doth drain
The earth, and sucks up all those drops again.
As other creatures are, who did beget
This useful thing? or who supposest thou
Did procreat the Christal drops of dew?
By which the Labourer rising from his bed,
Perceives his grounds all kindly watered.
And then, as if the Sun had only sent
Those little cordial drops, to complement
The widdowed earth, that doth his absence mourn,
And in sad veil, did long for his return,
With warming beams, he suddenly doth drain
The earth, and sucks up all those drops again.
Dost know what Ice is? whence the same proceeds?
Who did beget it? in what womb it breeds.
'Tis worth thy knowledge (though thou knew no more)
To understand this costive Meteor.
Who did beget it? in what womb it breeds.
'Tis worth thy knowledge (though thou knew no more)
To understand this costive Meteor.
Dost see the Rivers, how they sweetly pass
In gentle streams through pleasant fields of grass,
Whilst Trees, and Shrubs, which in their Banks do grow,
By their reflex, do make a goodly show,
Upon the Waters, so transparent clear,
As through the Streams the very Skyes appear:
These same pellucid Rivers, in a trice
You may see covered with a crust of Ice:
And what was lately soft, appear annon
As hard, and solid, as if pav'd with stone:
Nay, even the Seas; who not long time before
Did break their curled Waves, upon the Shore,
And round the Earth triumph'd with so much pride,
Spreading their boistrous Billows, far, and wide:
As if the power of the restraining Ice,
(Which fetters in-land floods) they did despise:
These very Seas at length are forc'd to bow
To conquering Ice, and they are frozen too:
So that where tallest Ships did lately steer,
Now Sledges, Carts, and Waggons do appear:
Nay, as upon firm Land with all their force,
Whole armies in battalia, foot, and horse,
Securely march along the frozen Seas,
Fighting, retiring, scirmishing with ease.
Hast then observ'd this? can'st assign a reason,
Why waters are bound up so in their season?
Or to what end, I make the Rivers freeze,
And thus incrustate even the raging Seas?
In gentle streams through pleasant fields of grass,
Whilst Trees, and Shrubs, which in their Banks do grow,
By their reflex, do make a goodly show,
Upon the Waters, so transparent clear,
As through the Streams the very Skyes appear:
These same pellucid Rivers, in a trice
336
And what was lately soft, appear annon
As hard, and solid, as if pav'd with stone:
Nay, even the Seas; who not long time before
Did break their curled Waves, upon the Shore,
And round the Earth triumph'd with so much pride,
Spreading their boistrous Billows, far, and wide:
As if the power of the restraining Ice,
(Which fetters in-land floods) they did despise:
These very Seas at length are forc'd to bow
To conquering Ice, and they are frozen too:
So that where tallest Ships did lately steer,
Now Sledges, Carts, and Waggons do appear:
Nay, as upon firm Land with all their force,
Whole armies in battalia, foot, and horse,
Securely march along the frozen Seas,
Fighting, retiring, scirmishing with ease.
Hast then observ'd this? can'st assign a reason,
Why waters are bound up so in their season?
Or to what end, I make the Rivers freeze,
And thus incrustate even the raging Seas?
Indeed vain mortals, you do all pretend
By philosophick rules to comprehend
The nature of all Meteors, and know
By second causes, whence they all do flow:
As when such constellations do appear,
You guesse the several seasons of the year,
As this the Spring, that Summer, Harvest that
And this cold Winter doth insinuat:
'Cause their appearance is habitual,
And custom teaches you: but that is all
You understand: you know that such things are,
Because to you they frequently appear:
But who's the man can tell? who's he doth know
The reason why these Stars themselves do show
At such set times? art thou the man? can'st thou
With all thy curious art demonstrat how
The Stars were made? why some of them appear
In modell'd bodies, others here, and there
Are singly scattered in the Heavens? dost know
Why some are fix't, some ramble to, and fro
In their own Orbs, and why too some of these
Consume as many years, as others days
In running out their course? dost understand
The reason of these things? can'st thou command
These Stars? or make the meanest of 'em all
Forbear their course? or vanish at thy call?
Canst thou restrain the sweet influences,
And pleasant aspects of the Pleiades,
Who, when the Sun in Taurus doth appear,
Calmly, and gently usher in the year?
Or when the sullen, barbarous Orion
Attended by an host of storms, leads on
The dreadful Winter, which o're runs you all
And makes you with ingeminat groans recall
Your ever kind (but then far distant) Sun
To your assistance, else you're all undone
With killing cold.—
When this same Orion doth then appear
In wasting terrour to shut up the year;
And bury all in Snow, can'st thou restrain
His violence, and force him back again?
Can'st thou repell the fury of his Winds,
His Rains, his Hail, and Tempests of all kinds?
And make that ne're yet conquered Constellation
Draw off his Troops with fear, and consternation?
By philosophick rules to comprehend
The nature of all Meteors, and know
By second causes, whence they all do flow:
As when such constellations do appear,
You guesse the several seasons of the year,
As this the Spring, that Summer, Harvest that
And this cold Winter doth insinuat:
'Cause their appearance is habitual,
And custom teaches you: but that is all
You understand: you know that such things are,
Because to you they frequently appear:
But who's the man can tell? who's he doth know
The reason why these Stars themselves do show
At such set times? art thou the man? can'st thou
With all thy curious art demonstrat how
The Stars were made? why some of them appear
In modell'd bodies, others here, and there
Are singly scattered in the Heavens? dost know
Why some are fix't, some ramble to, and fro
In their own Orbs, and why too some of these
Consume as many years, as others days
In running out their course? dost understand
The reason of these things? can'st thou command
These Stars? or make the meanest of 'em all
Forbear their course? or vanish at thy call?
Canst thou restrain the sweet influences,
And pleasant aspects of the Pleiades,
Who, when the Sun in Taurus doth appear,
Calmly, and gently usher in the year?
Or when the sullen, barbarous Orion
Attended by an host of storms, leads on
The dreadful Winter, which o're runs you all
337
Your ever kind (but then far distant) Sun
To your assistance, else you're all undone
With killing cold.—
When this same Orion doth then appear
In wasting terrour to shut up the year;
And bury all in Snow, can'st thou restrain
His violence, and force him back again?
Can'st thou repell the fury of his Winds,
His Rains, his Hail, and Tempests of all kinds?
And make that ne're yet conquered Constellation
Draw off his Troops with fear, and consternation?
Can'st, in his season bring out Mazzaroth
That torrid Constellation of the South,
And make him in his Summer garb appear,
To celebrate the Solstice of the year?
Say—canst thou make this Constellation shine,
This Canis major which beyond the Line
Lyes quartered, and from its pleasant seat
Draws out but as a Summer guard, to wait
Upon the motion of the glorious Sun
What time he his three greatest heats doth run.
Can'st thou by Art a certain survey make
Of all the Chambers in the Zodiack,
That spacious Colledge, that magnificent
And stately Inns of Court; that eminent
And princely Fabrick of great excellence;
Where the Twelve Signs do keep their residence.
And though they hold their chief Demeurage there,
Yet in their several Circuits, appear
The twelve conspicuous Judges of the Year.
Each Month, by turns: attended by no less,
Then the bright Sun himself, with all his rays,
Who for the time keeps House, with each of them;
Then what can'st say to this? would thou reclaim
Against this order? or in spite, decry
This method? can'st thou by authority
Inhibite their procedure? and allow
No such Appartments but to one, or two
Of all the twelve?—
Or can'st thou make the Sun, per saltum, pass
Into the Rams head, from the Ballances?
And baulking the five Melancholly Signs,
(In which he rather looks a squint, then shines)
Make him continue his warm influence
In every corner of the Earth, and thence,
By that new, heretofore unknowen device,
Evite the trouble of the Winters Ice.
Canst make the Northern Stars live orderly,
And rule Arcturus, with his Family?
Who in the Harvest season doth appear,
Attended with his great, and little Bear,
And th'other Troops of the Septentrions,
Drawen out of all his Northern Garisons,
T'invest, as't were, the year, whilst Orion
With the main body follows quickly on?
That torrid Constellation of the South,
And make him in his Summer garb appear,
To celebrate the Solstice of the year?
Say—canst thou make this Constellation shine,
This Canis major which beyond the Line
Lyes quartered, and from its pleasant seat
Draws out but as a Summer guard, to wait
Upon the motion of the glorious Sun
What time he his three greatest heats doth run.
Can'st thou by Art a certain survey make
Of all the Chambers in the Zodiack,
That spacious Colledge, that magnificent
And stately Inns of Court; that eminent
And princely Fabrick of great excellence;
Where the Twelve Signs do keep their residence.
And though they hold their chief Demeurage there,
Yet in their several Circuits, appear
The twelve conspicuous Judges of the Year.
Each Month, by turns: attended by no less,
Then the bright Sun himself, with all his rays,
Who for the time keeps House, with each of them;
Then what can'st say to this? would thou reclaim
Against this order? or in spite, decry
This method? can'st thou by authority
Inhibite their procedure? and allow
No such Appartments but to one, or two
Of all the twelve?—
Or can'st thou make the Sun, per saltum, pass
Into the Rams head, from the Ballances?
And baulking the five Melancholly Signs,
(In which he rather looks a squint, then shines)
Make him continue his warm influence
In every corner of the Earth, and thence,
By that new, heretofore unknowen device,
Evite the trouble of the Winters Ice.
Canst make the Northern Stars live orderly,
And rule Arcturus, with his Family?
Who in the Harvest season doth appear,
Attended with his great, and little Bear,
And th'other Troops of the Septentrions,
Drawen out of all his Northern Garisons,
338
With the main body follows quickly on?
Canst make celestial bodies influence
Bodies sublunary? dost' know from whence
That rich, but hidden Virtue doth proceed,
Which 'mongst you mortals, strange effects doth breed?
Whilst some Diseases, others Health, afford:
Some fair, and some foul weather, in a word
Each constellation in its aspect bears
A consequence of either hopes, or feares.
But not a cause: for that to me alone
Belongs, which I communicate to none,
Whom I've created: for in sober sense,
These Stars have in themselves no influence
On any thing, but as determined
By second Causes, which are furnished
By my appointment, and the Subject Matter,
With which they meet.—
Yet, I know some of you (sad Creatures too)
Pretend by study to demonstrare how
All things are ordered in my Cabinet,
Ere they be brought to action, and relate,
By knowledge of these Stars, strange passages
Of my designs, long e're they came to pass:
Fools! whence have you so good intelligence
Of my intents, and purposes? from whence
Have you this knowledge? is it from the Stars?
D'ye think such mean things are my Counsellers?
That such as these forsooth should be acquaint
With the deep Intrigues of my Government?
Presumptuous Mortals! that you thus should dare
To think you know what my intentions are,
When your own Reason fully may convince
You of your folly: for if even a Prince,
Of my creation, that on Earth doth dwell,
And must make use of Council, can so well
Conceal his Secrets, as what he intends,
Is neither knowen to Enemies, nor Friends:
How think you then.—
That I, who use no Council in the least,
But that which doth reside within my breast,
Should of my Secrets take so little care,
As any thing in Heavens, Earth, Sea, or Air,
Nay even my Angels, who my Court attend
Should e're discover what I do intend,
But from my Mouth? yet from a silly Star,
With which you correspond, of Peace, and War
Intended Famine, Fire, or Pestilence,
You Mortals have all your intelligence:
Would not you of that States-man make a sport,
Who from the Lacqueys of a Princes Court,
Pretended he did draw intelligence,
Of all his Cabin-councils, and from thence
Would take his measures? pray what else are those,
With whom you correspond, do you suppose
That I make any other use of these,
But as of Grooms, to carry Messages?
Bodies sublunary? dost' know from whence
That rich, but hidden Virtue doth proceed,
Which 'mongst you mortals, strange effects doth breed?
Whilst some Diseases, others Health, afford:
Some fair, and some foul weather, in a word
Each constellation in its aspect bears
A consequence of either hopes, or feares.
But not a cause: for that to me alone
Belongs, which I communicate to none,
Whom I've created: for in sober sense,
These Stars have in themselves no influence
On any thing, but as determined
By second Causes, which are furnished
By my appointment, and the Subject Matter,
With which they meet.—
Yet, I know some of you (sad Creatures too)
Pretend by study to demonstrare how
All things are ordered in my Cabinet,
Ere they be brought to action, and relate,
By knowledge of these Stars, strange passages
Of my designs, long e're they came to pass:
Fools! whence have you so good intelligence
Of my intents, and purposes? from whence
Have you this knowledge? is it from the Stars?
D'ye think such mean things are my Counsellers?
That such as these forsooth should be acquaint
With the deep Intrigues of my Government?
Presumptuous Mortals! that you thus should dare
To think you know what my intentions are,
When your own Reason fully may convince
You of your folly: for if even a Prince,
Of my creation, that on Earth doth dwell,
And must make use of Council, can so well
Conceal his Secrets, as what he intends,
Is neither knowen to Enemies, nor Friends:
How think you then.—
That I, who use no Council in the least,
But that which doth reside within my breast,
Should of my Secrets take so little care,
As any thing in Heavens, Earth, Sea, or Air,
Nay even my Angels, who my Court attend
Should e're discover what I do intend,
But from my Mouth? yet from a silly Star,
With which you correspond, of Peace, and War
Intended Famine, Fire, or Pestilence,
You Mortals have all your intelligence:
Would not you of that States-man make a sport,
Who from the Lacqueys of a Princes Court,
Pretended he did draw intelligence,
Of all his Cabin-councils, and from thence
Would take his measures? pray what else are those,
339
That I make any other use of these,
But as of Grooms, to carry Messages?
Nor is it lawful for you to erect
Your Figures, on Nativities; and make
From thence Conclusions: or by Art to frame,
From the conjunctions of the Stars, a Scheme
O'th' life, and death of any private man,
That lives on Earth: a thing no mortal can,
With safety undertake: or if he do,
Know all of you that I do not allow
Such Practices: for hidden things are knowen
To me who am your Soveraign alone
But things reveal'd to you are only showen.
Your Figures, on Nativities; and make
From thence Conclusions: or by Art to frame,
From the conjunctions of the Stars, a Scheme
O'th' life, and death of any private man,
That lives on Earth: a thing no mortal can,
With safety undertake: or if he do,
Know all of you that I do not allow
Such Practices: for hidden things are knowen
To me who am your Soveraign alone
But things reveal'd to you are only showen.
The Knowledge then, in which I do permit
The wisest of you all to try your Wit,
Is to distinguish, as these Stars appear,
The several times, and seasons of the Year;
To know them all both fix'd, and wanderers,
And gaze upon them as Astronomers:
To know besides their influences so,
As when 'tis time to plant, and when to sow:
When to set sail, when to return again:
When to endure, when to cast off your pain:
How in the darkest night your course to steer,
At Sea or Land: when to hope, when to fear:
When to rejoyce, when sadly to lament,
Especially when flaming Stars are sent
As Heralds of my Wrath, when to repent.
All this I do allow, and you may pore
Upon this Knowledge, so far, but no more:
For none of all these Stars can in the least
Have influence on either man, or beast
As Causes; but they only do appear
As signs to show my actions every where.
The wisest of you all to try your Wit,
Is to distinguish, as these Stars appear,
The several times, and seasons of the Year;
To know them all both fix'd, and wanderers,
And gaze upon them as Astronomers:
To know besides their influences so,
As when 'tis time to plant, and when to sow:
When to set sail, when to return again:
When to endure, when to cast off your pain:
How in the darkest night your course to steer,
At Sea or Land: when to hope, when to fear:
When to rejoyce, when sadly to lament,
Especially when flaming Stars are sent
As Heralds of my Wrath, when to repent.
All this I do allow, and you may pore
Upon this Knowledge, so far, but no more:
For none of all these Stars can in the least
Have influence on either man, or beast
As Causes; but they only do appear
As signs to show my actions every where.
Can'st thou by keeping coyl, and noise below,
Perswade the Clouds to let their Vapours go
And water all thy Sun-burn'd Grounds with Rain,
When they at any time of Drought complain?
Perswade the Clouds to let their Vapours go
And water all thy Sun-burn'd Grounds with Rain,
When they at any time of Drought complain?
Can'st thou by single lifting of thy hand,
Make all the Troops of Lightning understand
Thy pleasure, and appear, at thy command.
All ready arm'd, in order instantly,
And hotly forward in thy service cry,
Lord we are here;—let's have thy orders now,
Pray what wouldst have thy Souldiers to do?
Give us the Word, and Sign, let's understand
Upon what Service thou would'st us command:
For here we're ready, as one man, to act,
Whatever thou would'st have us undertake.
Make all the Troops of Lightning understand
Thy pleasure, and appear, at thy command.
All ready arm'd, in order instantly,
And hotly forward in thy service cry,
Lord we are here;—let's have thy orders now,
Pray what wouldst have thy Souldiers to do?
Give us the Word, and Sign, let's understand
Upon what Service thou would'st us command:
For here we're ready, as one man, to act,
Whatever thou would'st have us undertake.
But all these things, and many moe, then thou
Or any man can fancy, I can do.
I can with ease oblige the whole Creation
T'obey my Orders, as I find occasion
I can make th'Universe, at my command
Return to its first Chaos, Sea, and Land
I can confound, and mix them so together,
As th'wit of man cannot distinguish either:
I can do more then all you can conceive:
I can do what you but with pain believe.
Nay so much too thou know'st, for frequently
I've heard thee in thy sharpest agony,
Express thy self, with zeal, and admiration,
Upon the copious Theme of the Creation.
I've heard thee too, with no small Eloquence,
Discourse upon my works of Providence.
I ask thee then who made thee understand,
Who made thee know, that by my mighty hand
All things in Heaven, and Earth were fashioned,
And to this hour are dayly ordered?
Who taught thee these things? who instructed thee,
Hadst thou this Wit from any else, but me?
Did not I lend thee Parts, and made thee know
How from my Power all things created flow?
How all your Wisdom, of which you do boast,
Is not your acquisition, but at most
A simple loan of my benevolence;
Which I to this, or that man do dispense
As I think good.—
By rules then of your own Philosophy,
If from me Wisdom flows, then certainly
I who, bestow it must be wiser far,
Then the accutest of you Mortals are,
Who all your Knowledge do derive from me,
Since that for which a thing is such, must be
More such it self: I do demand thee then
Thou most pretending to it, of all men,
Is't fit that any Mortal should be proud,
Of what in Loan I only have allow'd
To him, upon design that he should know
What he's himself, and then what he doth owe
To me, who made him such; but not to state
Himself my Party; or, like thee, debate
On my Proceedings, but that he should be
Content to know, that he knows all from me.
Or any man can fancy, I can do.
I can with ease oblige the whole Creation
T'obey my Orders, as I find occasion
340
Return to its first Chaos, Sea, and Land
I can confound, and mix them so together,
As th'wit of man cannot distinguish either:
I can do more then all you can conceive:
I can do what you but with pain believe.
Nay so much too thou know'st, for frequently
I've heard thee in thy sharpest agony,
Express thy self, with zeal, and admiration,
Upon the copious Theme of the Creation.
I've heard thee too, with no small Eloquence,
Discourse upon my works of Providence.
I ask thee then who made thee understand,
Who made thee know, that by my mighty hand
All things in Heaven, and Earth were fashioned,
And to this hour are dayly ordered?
Who taught thee these things? who instructed thee,
Hadst thou this Wit from any else, but me?
Did not I lend thee Parts, and made thee know
How from my Power all things created flow?
How all your Wisdom, of which you do boast,
Is not your acquisition, but at most
A simple loan of my benevolence;
Which I to this, or that man do dispense
As I think good.—
By rules then of your own Philosophy,
If from me Wisdom flows, then certainly
I who, bestow it must be wiser far,
Then the accutest of you Mortals are,
Who all your Knowledge do derive from me,
Since that for which a thing is such, must be
More such it self: I do demand thee then
Thou most pretending to it, of all men,
Is't fit that any Mortal should be proud,
Of what in Loan I only have allow'd
To him, upon design that he should know
What he's himself, and then what he doth owe
To me, who made him such; but not to state
Himself my Party; or, like thee, debate
On my Proceedings, but that he should be
Content to know, that he knows all from me.
For what is all your Wit? what all your Parts?
What all the subtile Sciences, and Arts,
Which you do study, and profess to know,
Nay, what is all that Wisdom here below
On which you men value your selves so much?
What is it? how d'ye rate it? is it such,
As by it you can even but calculate
The number of the Clouds? or estimate
The value of those Magazines of Rain
What quantity of Vapours they contain?
Under what Lock, and Key they're all secur'd?
How guarded, by what Policy ensur'd,
At all Adventures from the craft, and force
Of th'other fiery rambling meteors?
Can all your wit, at any time restrain,
The falling of the smallest drop of rain,
Out of those heavenly bottles, which you see,
That both are fill'd, and emptied by me.
What all the subtile Sciences, and Arts,
Which you do study, and profess to know,
Nay, what is all that Wisdom here below
On which you men value your selves so much?
What is it? how d'ye rate it? is it such,
As by it you can even but calculate
The number of the Clouds? or estimate
The value of those Magazines of Rain
What quantity of Vapours they contain?
Under what Lock, and Key they're all secur'd?
How guarded, by what Policy ensur'd,
At all Adventures from the craft, and force
341
Can all your wit, at any time restrain,
The falling of the smallest drop of rain,
Out of those heavenly bottles, which you see,
That both are fill'd, and emptied by me.
For when by drouth the Earth to flying dust
Appears converted, then I let out just
As I think fit, such quantities of rain,
As may reduce it to soft clay again.
Appears converted, then I let out just
As I think fit, such quantities of rain,
As may reduce it to soft clay again.
Thus much for Heavens; now let's to Earth repair,
And see what absolute power I have there,
For thou wilt say the Meteors o'th' Air
Are far above thee; and it is no wonder,
Though rain, and snow, hail, lightning, frost, and thunder,
Be things unknown to thee: I'll lead thee then
To objects that more obvious to men
In the same Earth, with you converse, which though
Thou see, and hear them daily, yet I'll show
For all thy wit, and art thou dost not know
The nature of them, I will show thee then,
That there are many things unknown to men,
Even in this Earth. Do then but cast thy eyes
Upon my Parks, my Ponds, and Volaries,
Thou'lt quickly see, that I have creatures there,
Which thou know'st hardly either what they are,
Or how they live.—
And see what absolute power I have there,
For thou wilt say the Meteors o'th' Air
Are far above thee; and it is no wonder,
Though rain, and snow, hail, lightning, frost, and thunder,
Be things unknown to thee: I'll lead thee then
To objects that more obvious to men
In the same Earth, with you converse, which though
Thou see, and hear them daily, yet I'll show
For all thy wit, and art thou dost not know
The nature of them, I will show thee then,
That there are many things unknown to men,
Even in this Earth. Do then but cast thy eyes
Upon my Parks, my Ponds, and Volaries,
Thou'lt quickly see, that I have creatures there,
Which thou know'st hardly either what they are,
Or how they live.—
First then, you have the Lyon such a creature,
As best of you do hardly know his nature:
A creature full of fury, full of wrath,
That to all other creatures threatens death,
If once withstood: but when to him they yeeld,
There's no more generous beast in all the field:
For his opposers he in pieces tears,
But such as do submit to him he spares.
Observe this Lyon then; he must be fed,
As well as thou, he must be nourished:
Who therefore taught him, pray' to find his prey,
And how to feed his young ones every day?
Knows then what shifts he uses for his food,
And makes provision for his tender brood?
In the wild Forrest, where there is no trade,
Where, for a price no meat is to be had?
As best of you do hardly know his nature:
A creature full of fury, full of wrath,
That to all other creatures threatens death,
If once withstood: but when to him they yeeld,
There's no more generous beast in all the field:
For his opposers he in pieces tears,
But such as do submit to him he spares.
Observe this Lyon then; he must be fed,
As well as thou, he must be nourished:
Who therefore taught him, pray' to find his prey,
And how to feed his young ones every day?
Knows then what shifts he uses for his food,
And makes provision for his tender brood?
In the wild Forrest, where there is no trade,
Where, for a price no meat is to be had?
Dost know how in their Dens they couchant ly
To catch th'unthinking beasts that passing by,
Do not their cunning ambuscade espy?
To catch th'unthinking beasts that passing by,
Do not their cunning ambuscade espy?
Next there's the Raven, such a creature too,
As lives by prey, as well as Lyons do:
Who doth provide its food? who entertains
This idle creature? who is at the pains
To feed its young ones, when the naughty dame,
Unkindly in the Nest abandons them?
When the raw-chicks do squeek, and crock aloud,
Half-starv'd for want of meat, who gives them food?
Who doth with Worms those shiftless creatures feed,
Which 'bout the nest, in Ravens dung do breed?
Dost understand who is it that supplyes
Those small forsaken things with Dew, and Flyes?
Or when as yet pin-feather'd they are thrust
By th'cruel Dame out of the Nest, and must
Make shifts (although not able yet to fly)
For their subsistence in the world, or dy,
Who hears them pray, when they for hunger cry,
And doth them, with an Aliment supply?
So that for all these hardships, they do grow
To a great age, and ramble to and fro,
Catching their preys, and live as well as these,
Who, from their birth, enjoy'd both food and ease.
As lives by prey, as well as Lyons do:
Who doth provide its food? who entertains
This idle creature? who is at the pains
To feed its young ones, when the naughty dame,
Unkindly in the Nest abandons them?
When the raw-chicks do squeek, and crock aloud,
Half-starv'd for want of meat, who gives them food?
342
Which 'bout the nest, in Ravens dung do breed?
Dost understand who is it that supplyes
Those small forsaken things with Dew, and Flyes?
Or when as yet pin-feather'd they are thrust
By th'cruel Dame out of the Nest, and must
Make shifts (although not able yet to fly)
For their subsistence in the world, or dy,
Who hears them pray, when they for hunger cry,
And doth them, with an Aliment supply?
So that for all these hardships, they do grow
To a great age, and ramble to and fro,
Catching their preys, and live as well as these,
Who, from their birth, enjoy'd both food and ease.
| The grand Tryal | |