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diff --git a/38549-h/38549-h.htm b/38549-h/38549-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9945a3f --- /dev/null +++ b/38549-h/38549-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13385 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume I (of 2), by Richard Crashaw</title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h3,h4,h5 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + + h1 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 6em; + clear: both; +} + + h2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + clear: both; +} + + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%} + +hr.r10 {width: 10%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + display: inline; + right: 3%; + font-size: x-small; + text-align: right; + color: #808080; + font-style: normal; + border: 1px solid silver; + padding: 1px 4px 1px 4px; + font-variant: normal; + font-weight: normal; + text-decoration: none; + text-indent: 0em; + } + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + display: inline; + right: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; +} /* poetry number */ + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +/* Images */ +.figtop { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + clear: both; + margin-top: 6em; +} + +.figbottom { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + clear: both; + margin-top: 2em; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px; + background-color: #EEE; + padding: 0 1em 1em 1em; +} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i1 { + display: block; + margin-left: 1em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i6 { + display: block; + margin-left: 6em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i8 { + display: block; + margin-left: 8em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + h1.pg { margin-top: 0em; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume +I (of 2), by Richard Crashaw, Edited by Alexander Balloch Grosart</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume I (of 2)</p> +<p>Author: Richard Crashaw</p> +<p>Editor: Alexander Balloch Grosart</p> +<p>Release Date: January 12, 2012 [eBook #38549]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW, VOLUME I (OF 2)***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by Taavi Kalju, Rory OConor,<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> + from page images generously made available by<br /> + Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries<br /> + (<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/toronto">http://www.archive.org/details/toronto</a>)</h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Project Gutenberg also has + <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38550/38550-h/38550-h.htm">Volume II</a> of this work.<br /> + <br /> + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See + <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/completeworksfor01crasuoft"> + http://www.archive.org/details/completeworksfor01crasuoft</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i"></a></span></p> + +<p class="center p2"><big>The Fuller Worthies' Library.</big></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h1><small><small>THE</small></small><br /> + +COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.<br /> + +<small><small>IN TWO VOLUMES.</small></small><br /> + +<small>VOL. I.</small></h1> + +<p class="center"><big>MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.<br /> +STEPS TO THE TEMPLE. CARMEN DEO NOSTRO.<br /> +THE DELIGHTS OF THE MUSES. AIRELLES.</big></p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii"></a></span></p> + + +<p class="center p6">LONDON:<br /> +ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a></span></p> + + +<p class="center p6"><big>The Fuller Worthies' Library.</big></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h1><small>THE COMPLETE WORKS</small><br /> + +<small><small>OF</small></small><br /> + +RICHARD CRASHAW.</h1> + +<p class="center">FOR THE FIRST TIME COLLECTED<br /> +AND COLLATED WITH THE ORIGINAL AND EARLY EDITIONS,<br /> +AND MUCH ENLARGED WITH</p> + +<p>I. Hitherto unprinted and inedited Poems from Archbishop Sancroft's +<span class="smcap">mss.</span> &c. &c.<br /> + +II. Translation of the whole of the Poemata et Epigrammata.<br /> + +III. Memorial-Introduction, Essay on Life and Poetry, and Notes.<br /> + +IV. In Quarto, reproduction in facsimile of the Author's own Illustrations +of 1652, with others specially prepared.</p> + +<p class="center">EDITED BY THE</p> + +<h2>REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART,</h2> + +<p class="center">ST. GEORGE'S, BLACKBURN, LANCASHIRE.</p> + +<h2><small>IN TWO VOLUMES.</small><br /> +VOL. I.</h2> + +<p class="center">PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION.<br /> + +1872.</p> + +<p><i><small>156 copies printed.</small></i></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a><br /> +<a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a></span></p> + +<p class="center p6"><a name="DEDICATION" id="DEDICATION"></a>TO</p> +<p class="center">THE VERY REVEREND</p> + +<p class="center"><big><big>JOHN HENRY NEWMAN, D.D.</big></big></p> + +<p class="center">AS AN EXPRESSION OF GRATITUDE FOR</p> +<p class="center">FUNDAMENTAL INTELLECTUAL AND SPIRITUAL</p> +<p class="center">QUICKENING AND NURTURE</p> +<p class="center">FOUND IN AND SUSTAINED BY HIS WRITINGS</p> +<p class="center">EARLIER AND LATEST,</p> +<p class="center">THIS EDITION</p> +<p class="center">OF A POET HE LOVES AS ENGLISHMAN AND CATHOLIC</p> +<p class="center">IS DEDICATED BY</p> +<p class="right">ALEXANDER B. GROSART.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi"></a><br /> +<a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii"></a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + + +<p>Those marked [*] are printed for the first time from <span class="smcap">mss.</span>; those marked +[†] have additions for the first time given in their places.</p> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><th align="left"></th><th align="right">PAGE</th></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#DEDICATION">Dedication</a></td><td align="right">v</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#PREFACE">Preface</a></td><td align="right">xi</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION">Memorial-Introduction</a></td><td align="right">xxvii</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#NOTE">Note</a></td><td align="right">xl</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_PREFACE_TO_THE_READER">The Preface to the Reader</a></td><td align="right">xlv</td></tr> + + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="2"><a href="#Sacred_Poetry_1"><br /><span class="smcap">Sacred Poetry</span>: I. <i>Steps to the Temple, and Carmen Deo +Nostro</i>, 1-181.</a></th></tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#SAINTE_MARY_MAGDALENE_OR_THE">†Sainte Mary Magdalene, or the Weeper</a></td><td align="right">3</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#SANCTA_MARIA_DOLORVM_OR_THE">Sancta Maria Dolorvm, or the Mother of Sorrows: a patheticall Descant upon the deuout Plainsong of Stabat Mater Dolorosa</a></td><td align="right">19</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_TEARE">†The Teare</a></td><td align="right">25</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_OFFICE_OF_THE_HOLY_CROSSE">†The Office of the Holy Crosse</a></td><td align="right">29</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VEXILLA_REGIS">Vexilla Regis: the Hymn of the Holy Crosse</a></td><td align="right">44</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_LORD_SILENCES_HIS_QUESTIONERS">The Lord silences His Questioners</a></td><td align="right">47</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#OUR_BLESSED_LORD_IN_HIS_CIRCUMCISION">Our Blessed Lord in His Circumcision to His Father</a></td><td align="right">48</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ON_THE_WOUNDS_OF_OUR_CRUCIFIED">On the Wounds of our crucified Lord</a></td><td align="right">50</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_THE_BLEEDING_CRUCIFIX_A_SONG">Vpon the bleeding Crucifix: a song</a></td><td align="right">51</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#TO_THE_NAME_ABOVE_EVERY_NAME_THE">†To the Name above every name, the Name of Iesvs: a hymn</a></td><td align="right">55</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#PSALME_XXIII">Psalme xxiii</a></td><td align="right">65</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#PSALM_CXXXVII">Psalme cxxxvii</a></td><td align="right">68</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#IN_THE_HOLY_NATIVITY_OF_OVR_LORD_GOD">†In the Holy Nativity of ovr Lord God: a hymn svng as by the Shepheards</a></td><td align="right">70</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#NEW_YEARS_DAY">New Year's Day</a></td><td align="right">76</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#IN_THE_GLORIOVS_EPIPHANIE_OF_OVR">†In the gloriovs Epiphanie of ovr Lord God: a hymn svng as by the three Kings</a></td><td align="right">79</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#TO_THE_QVEENS_MAIESTY">To the Qveen's Maiesty</a></td><td align="right">91<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_EASTER_DAY">Vpon Easter Day</a></td><td align="right">94</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#SOSPETTO_D_HERODE">Sospetto d'Herode</a></td><td align="right">95</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_HYMN_OF_SAINTE_THOMAS">The Hymn of Sainte Thomas, in Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament</a></td><td align="right">121</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#LAVDA_SION_SALVATOREM">Lavda Sion Salvatorem: the Hymn for the Bl. Sacrament</a></td><td align="right">124</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#PRAYER">†Prayer: an Ode which was prefixed to a little Prayer-book given to a young Gentle-woman</a></td><td align="right">128</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#TO_THE_SAME_PARTY">To the same Party: Covncel concerning her Choise</a></td><td align="right">134</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#DESCRIPTION_OF_A_RELIGIOVS_HOVSE">Description of a Religiovs Hovse and Condition of Life (out of Barclay)</a></td><td align="right">137</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ON_MR_GEORGE_HERBERTS_BOOKE_INTITULED">On Mr. George Herbert's Booke intituled the Temple of Sacred Poems: sent to a Gentle-woman</a></td><td align="right">139</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#A_HYMN_TO_THE_NAME_AND_HONOR_OF">†A Hymn to the Name and Honor of the admirable Sainte Teresa</a></td><td align="right">141</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#AN_APOLOGIE_FOR_THE_FOREGOING_HYMN">†An Apologie for the foregoing Hymn, as hauing been writt when the Author was yet among the Protestants</a></td><td align="right">150</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_FLAMING_HEART">†The Flaming Heart: vpon the Book and Picture of the seraphical Saint Teresa, as she is vsvally expressed with a Seraphim biside her</a></td><td align="right">152</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#A_SONG_OF_DIVINE_LOVE">A Song of Divine Love</a></td><td align="right">157</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#IN_THE_GLORIOVS_ASSVMPTION_OF_OVR">†In the gloriovs Assvmption of ovr Blessed Lady</a></td><td align="right">158</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#UPON_FIVE_PIOVS_AND_LEARNED_DISCOURSES">†Upon five piovs and learned Discourses by Robert Shelford</a></td><td align="right">162</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#DIES_IRAE_DIES_ILLA">Dies iræ, dies illa: the Hymn of the Chvrch, in meditation of the Day of Ivdgment</a></td><td align="right">166</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHARITAS_NIMIA_OR_THE_DEAR_BARGAIN">Charitas Nimia, or the dear Bargain</a></td><td align="right">170</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#S_MARIA_MAIOR">S. Maria Maior: the Himn, O gloriosa Domina</a></td><td align="right">173</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#HOPE">Hope [by Cowley]</a></td><td align="right">175</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#M_CRASHAWS_ANSWER_FOR_HOPE">M. Crashaw's Answer for Hope</a></td><td align="right">178</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="2"><a href="#Sacred_Poetry_2"><br /><span class="smcap">Sacred Poetry</span>: II. <i>Airelles</i>, 183-194.</a></th></tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#MARY_SEEKING_JESUS_WHEN_LOST">*Mary seeking Jesus when lost</a></td><td align="right">185</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_WOUNDS_OF_THE_LORD_JESUS">*The Wounds of the Lord Jesus</a></td><td align="right">187</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_1">*On y<sup>e</sup> Gunpowder-Treason</a></td><td align="right">188</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_2">* Ditto</a></td><td align="right">190</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_3">† Ditto</a></td><td align="right">192</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="2"><a href="#Secular_Poetry_I"><br /><span class="smcap">Secular Poetry</span>: I. <i>The Delights of the Muses</i>, 195-276.</a></th></tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#MUSICKS_DUELL">Musick's Duell</a></td><td align="right">197</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_PRAISE_OF_THE_SPRING">In the Praise of the Spring (out of Virgil)</a></td><td align="right">207</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#WITH_A_PICTURE_SENT_TO_A_FRIEND">With a Picture sent to a Friend</a></td><td align="right">208<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">ix</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#IN_PRAISE_OF_LESSIUSS_RULE_OF">†In praise of Lessius's Rule of Health</a></td><td align="right">209</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#THE_BEGINNING_OF_HELIODORUS">The Beginning of Heliodorus</a></td><td align="right">212</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CUPIDS_CRYER">Cupid's Cryer (out of the Greeke)</a></td><td align="right">214</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_BISHOP_ANDREWS_PICTURE_BEFORE">Vpon Bishop Andrews' Picture before his Sermons</a></td><td align="right">217</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_A_GENTLEMAN">Vpon the Death of a Gentleman</a></td><td align="right">218</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_MR_HERRYS">Vpon the Death of Mr. Herrys</a></td><td align="right">220</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_THE_MOST_DESIRED">Vpon the Death of the most desired Mr. Herrys</a></td><td align="right">222</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ANOTHER">Another</a></td><td align="right">225</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#HIS_EPITAPH">His Epitaph</a></td><td align="right">228</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#AN_EPITAPH_VPON_A_YOVNG_MARRIED">†An Epitaph vpon a yovng Married Covple, dead and bvryed together</a></td><td align="right">230</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#DEATHS_LECTVRE_AND_THE_FVNERAL_OF">Death's Lectvre and the Fvneral of a yovng Gentleman</a></td><td align="right">232</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#AN_EPITAPH_VPON_DOCTOR_BROOKE">An Epitaph vpon Doctor Brooke</a></td><td align="right">234</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ON_A_FOULE_MORNING_BEING_THEN_TO">On a foule Morning, being then to take a Journey</a></td><td align="right">235</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#TO_THE_MORNING">To the Morning: Satisfaction for Sleepe</a></td><td align="right">237</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#LOVES_HOROSCOPE">Love's Horoscope</a></td><td align="right">240</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#A_SONG">A Song (out of the Italian)</a></td><td align="right">243</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#OUT_OF_THE_ITALIAN_2">Out of the Italian</a></td><td align="right">245</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#OUT_OF_THE_ITALIAN_3">Out of the Italian</a></td><td align="right">246</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_THE_FRONTISPEECE_OF_MR_ISAACKSONS">Vpon the Frontispeece of Mr. Isaackson's Chronologie</a></td><td align="right">246</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ON_THE_FRONTISPIECE_OF_ISAACSONS">On the same by Bishop Rainbow</a></td><td align="right">248</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#AN_EPITAPH_VPON_MR_ASHTON">An Epitaph vpon Mr. Ashton, a conformable Citizen</a></td><td align="right">250</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#OUT_OF_CATULLUS">Out of Catullus</a></td><td align="right">251</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#WISHES">Wishes</a></td><td align="right">252</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#TO_THE_QUEEN_1">†To the Queen: an Apologie for the length of the following Panegyrick</a></td><td align="right">259</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#TO_THE_QUEEN_2">To the Queen, vpon her numerous Progenie: a Panegyrick</a></td><td align="right">260</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_TWO_GREENE_APRICOCKES_SENT_TO">Vpon two greene Apricockes sent to Cowley by Sir Crashaw</a></td><td align="right">269</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ALEXIAS">Alexias: The Complaint of the forsaken Wife of Sainte Alexis: three Elegies</a></td><td align="right">271</td></tr> + +<tr><th align="center" colspan="2"><a href="#Secular_Poetry_2"><br /><span class="smcap">Secular Poetry</span>: II. <i>Airelles</i>, 277-303.</a></th></tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#UPON_THE_KINGS_CORONATION_1">*Upon the King's Coronation</a></td><td align="right">279</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#UPON_THE_KINGS_CORONATION_2">* Ditto</a></td><td align="right">280</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_THE_BIRTH_OF_THE_PRINCESSE">*Vpon the Birth of the Princesse Elizabeth</a></td><td align="right">282</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VPON_A_GNATT_BURNT_IN_A_CANDLE">*Vpon a Gnatt burnt in a Candle</a></td><td align="right">284</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#FROM_PETRONIUS">*From Petronius</a></td><td align="right">286</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#FROM_HORACE">*From Horace</a></td><td align="right">287</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#EX_EUPHORMIONE">*Ex Euphormione.</a></td><td align="right">289</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#AN_ELEGY_VPON_THE_DEATH_OF">*An Elegy vpon the Death of Mr. Stanninow, Fellow of Queen's Colledge</a></td><td align="right">290<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">x</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#UPON_THE_DEATH_OF_A_FREIND">*Upon the Death of a Friend</a></td><td align="right">292</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#AN_ELEGIE_ON_THE_DEATH_OF_DR_PORTER">*An Elegie on the Death of Dr. Porter</a></td><td align="right">293</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#VERSE-LETTER">†Verse-Letter to the Countess of Denbigh</a></td><td align="right">295</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#From_Carmen_Deo_Nostro"> Ditto from Carmen Deo Nostro</a></td><td align="right">301</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#FOOTNOTES">Footnotes</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<h2><a name="Illustrations_in_the_illustrated_Quarto_only_Vol_I" id="Illustrations_in_the_illustrated_Quarto_only_Vol_I"></a><span class="smcap">Illustrations</span>, <i>in the illustrated Quarto only</i>: Vol. I.</h2> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Quarto Illustrations"> +<tr><td align="right">1.</td><td align="left">The Weeper: engraved by W.J. Linton, Esq., after the Author's own Design</td><td align="right">4</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">2.</td><td align="left">Sancta Maria Dolorvm; or the Mother of Sorrows</td><td align="right">19</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">3.</td><td align="left">The Office of the Holy Crosse</td><td align="right">29</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">4.</td><td align="left">The Recommendation</td><td align="right">43</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">5.</td><td align="left">To the Name above every name, the Name of Iesus</td><td align="right">55</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">6.</td><td align="left">The Hymn of Sainte Thomas</td><td align="right">55</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">7.</td><td align="left">The 'irresolute' Locked Heart</td><td align="right">55</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">8.</td><td align="left">In the Holy Nativity of ovr Lord God</td><td align="right">71</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">9.</td><td align="left">In the gloriovs Epiphanie of ovr Lord God.</td><td align="right">79</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">10.</td><td align="left">Head of Satan: drawn and engraved by W.J. Linton, Esq.</td><td align="right">95</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">11.</td><td align="left">Sainte Teresa</td><td align="right">141</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">12.</td><td align="left">Dies iræ, dies illa</td><td align="right">166</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">13.</td><td align="left">Maria Maior, O gloriosa Domina</td><td align="right">173</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">14.</td><td align="left">A second Illustration from the Bodleian copy</td><td align="right">173</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">15.</td><td align="left">The Dead Nightingale: drawn by Mrs. Blackburn, engraved by W.J. Linton, Esq.</td><td align="right">197</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>Nos. 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 13, 14 are reproduced in facsimile +from the author's own designs of 1652, by Pouncey of Dorchester, +expressly for our edition of Crashaw. Besides the above +there are a number of head- and tail-pieces by W.J. Linton, Esq.</p> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_b.png" width="200" height="78" alt="Decoration B" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi"></a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + + +<p>I have at last the pleasure of seeing half-fulfilled a long-cherished +wish and intention, by the issue of the present +Volume, being Vol. I. of the first really worthy edition +of the complete Poetry of <span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw</span>, while +Vol. II. is so well advanced that it may be counted on +for Midsummer (<i>Deo favente</i>).</p> + +<p>This Volume contains the whole of the previously-published +English Poems, with the exception of the Epigrams +scattered among the others, which more fittingly +find their place in Vol. II., along with the Latin and +Greek originals, and our translation of all hitherto untranslated. +Here also will be found important, and peculiarly +interesting as characteristic, additions of unprinted +and inedited poems by <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> from Archbishop <span class="smcap">Sancroft's +mss.</span>, among the <span class="smcap">Tanner mss.</span> in the Bodleian. +These I have named 'Airelles,' after the little Alpine +flowers that are dug out beneath the mountain masses of +snow and ice, with abiding touches of beauty and perfume, +as though they had been sheltered within walls and +glass. The formerly printed Poems have been collated and +recollated anxiously with the original and other early and +authoritative editions, the results of which are shown in +Notes and Illustrations at the close of each poem. Many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">xii</a></span> +of the various readings are of rare interest, and collation +has revealed successive additions and revisions altogether +unrecorded by modern editors. In their places I have +pointed out the flagrant carelessness of the last Editor, +<span class="smcap">W.B. Turnbull</span>, Esq., in Smith's 'Library of Old Authors.'</p> + +<p>As was meet, I have adhered to the first titles of +'Steps to the Temple' and 'The Delights of the Muses,' +the former embracing the <span class="smcap">Sacred</span>, and the latter the +<span class="smcap">Secular</span> Poems. The original Editor (whoever he was), +not the Author, gave these titles. In the Preface to +'the learned Reader,' he says, '<i>we stile</i> his sacred Poems, +Steps to the Temple.' At one time I was disposed to +assign the editorship of the volumes of 1646 and 1648 +to <span class="smcap">Sancroft</span>; but inasmuch as both contained Bp. <span class="smcap">Rainbow's</span> +verses prefixed to <span class="smcap">Isaacson's</span> 'Chronologie,' while +the piece is not in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span>, it seems he could +not have been the editor. His pathetic closing words +reveal much love: 'I will conclude all that I have impartially +writ of this learned young Gent. (<i>now dead to +us</i>) as hee himselfe doth, with the last line of his poem +upon Bishop Andrewes' picture before his Sermons, <i>Verte +paginas</i>—Look on his following leaves, and see him +breath.'</p> + +<p>I would now give an account of previous editions +of our Worthy, and our use of them. The earliest of +his publications—excluding minor pieces in University +Collections as recorded in our Essay—was a volume of +Latin Epigrams published at Cambridge in 1634 in a +small 8vo. The name of <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> nowhere appears, +but his initials R.C. are appended to the Dedication +to his friend <span class="smcap">Laney</span>. The title-page was as follows:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">xiii</a></span> +'Epigrammatum Sacrorum Liber. Cantabrigiæ, ex Academiæ +celeberrimæ typographo, 1634.' Besides the Epigrams, +this now rare volume contained certain of his +'Poemata' before the Epigrams. A second edition was +published in 1670 with a few additional Epigrams, and +those in Greek. A third edition appeared in 1674. +Fuller details, with collation of each, are given in Vol. II. +in their places.</p> + +<p>Nothing more of any considerableness was published +until 1646, two years after the Poet's ejection. Then +appeared a small volume of Poems, chiefly English, arranged +in two distinct classes, Sacred and Secular, the +latter with a separate title-page. In the Note which follows +this Preface, the title-pages of the volume will be +found, along with those of the subsequent editions of +1648 and 1670. With reference to the volume of 1646, +a mistake in the printing was thus pointed out: 'Reader, +there was a sudden mistake ('tis too late to recover +it): thou wilt quickly find it out, and I hope as soone +passe it over; some of the humane Poems are misplaced +amongst the Divine.' These 'humane' poems, that belonged +not to the 'Steps' but the 'Delights of the Muses,' +were fifteen in all. They were assigned their own places +in the new edition of 1648. With two exceptions, we +have adhered to the classification of the 1648 edition: +the exceptions are, that we have placed 'Vexilla Regis' +immediately after the 'Office of the Holy Crosse,' as belonging +properly to that composition; and the 'Apologie' +for the Hymn to <span class="smcap">Teresa</span> after the first, not after the +second Hymn, seeing the 'Apologie' is only for the first. +The new edition bore on its title-page the announcement: +'The second Edition, wherein are added divers pieces not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">xiv</a></span> +before extant.' Our contents of the present Volume (immediately +following our Dedication) shows these additions, +which were important and precious; viz. twenty-nine +new English Poems and eighteen new Latin Poems.</p> + +<p>The next edition was published in <span class="smcap">Paris</span> in 1652. +In our Note (as <i>supra</i>) the title-page is given. This +volume is an elegant one, and is adorned with twelve +dainty engravings after the Author's own designs, though +we possess a copy without the engravings, having blanks +left. This exceedingly rare book contains most of the +Sacred Poems and some of the more serious of the Secular +Poems; but as the contents (as <i>supra</i>) show, there +were large omissions, notably the Sospetto and Musick's +Duel. It was edited by <span class="smcap">Thomas Car</span>, who prefixes two +poems of his own, as follows:</p> + + +<h3>I. <span class="smcap">Crashawe, the Anagramme 'He was Car.'</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was <span class="smcap">Car</span> then Crashawe; or was Crashawe Car,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since both within one name combinèd are?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, Car's Crashawe, he Car; 'tis loue alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which melts two harts, of both composing one.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Crashaw's still the same: so much desired<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By strongest witts; so honor'd, so admired;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Car was but he that enter'd as a friend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With whom he shar'd his thoughtes, and did commend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(While yet he liu'd) this worke; they lou'd each other:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweete Crashawe was his friend; he Crashawe's brother.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Car hath title then; 'twas his intent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That what his riches pen'd, poore Car should print;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor feares he checke, praysing that happie one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who was belou'd by all; disprais'd by none:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To witt, being pleas'd with all things, he pleas'd all,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor would he giue, nor take offence; befall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What might, he would possesse himselfe, and liue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As deade (deuoyde of interest) t' all might giue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desease t' his well-composèd mynd; fore-stal'd<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">xv</a></span><span class="i0">With heauenly riches; which had wholy call'd<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His thoughts from earth, to liue aboue in th' aire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A very bird of paradice. No care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had he of earthly trashe. What might suffice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fitt his soule to heauenly exercise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sufficèd him: and may we guesse his hart<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By what his lipps brings forth, his onely part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is God and godly thoughtes. Leaues doubt to none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that to whom one God is all; all's one.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What he might eate or weare he tooke no thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His needfull foode he rather found then sought.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seekes no downes, no sheetes, his bed's still made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he can find a chaire or stoole, he's layd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Day peepes in, he quitts his restlesse rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still, poore soule, before he's vp, he's dre'st.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus dying did he liue, yet liued to dye<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In th' Virgin's lappe, to whom he did applye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His virgine thoughtes and words, and thence was styld<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By foes, the chaplaine of the virgine myld,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While yet he liued without. His modestie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imparted this to some, and they to me.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liue happie then, deare soule! inioy the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternally by paynes thou purchacedst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Car must liue in care, who was thy friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor cares he how he liue, so in the end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He may inioy his dearest Lord and thee;<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sitt and singe more skilfull songs eternally.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">II. An Epigramme</span></h3> + +<p>Vpon the Pictures in the following Poemes, which the Authour first +made with his owne hand, admirably well, as may be seene in +his Manuscript dedicated to the Right Honourable Lady the L. +Denbigh.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twixt pen and pensill rose a holy strife<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which might draw Vertue better to the life:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Best witts gaue votes to that, but painters swore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They neuer saw peeces so sweete before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">xvi</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thes fruits of pure Nature; where no Art<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did lead the vntaught pensill, nor had part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In th' worke ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand growne bold, with witt will needes contest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth it preuayle? ah no! say each is best.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This to the eare speakes wonders; that will trye<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To speake the same, yet lowder, to the eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both in their aymes are holy, both conspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wound, to burne the hart with heauenly fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This then's the doome, to doe both parties right:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This to the eare speakes best; that, to the sight.<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="right"> +<span class="smcap">Thomas Car.</span><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>It is clear from these lines in the former poem—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Car was but he that enter'd as a friend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With whom he shar'd his thoughtes, <i>and did commend</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(<i>While yet he liu'd</i>) <span class="smcap">THIS WORKE</span>__________<br /></span> +<span class="i0">_______________________________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Car hath title then; '<i>twas his intent</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That what his riches pen'd, poore Car should print</i>'—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>that the volume of 1652 carries the authority of <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> +with it as his own Selection from what he had +written. So that I have had no hesitation in accepting +its text of the Poems previously published (in 1646 and +1648): understanding that the Selection was regulated +by his desire only to offer the <span class="smcap">Countess of Denbigh</span> +those he himself most valued. There are inevitable misprints +and a chaos of punctuation; but the text as a whole +is a great advance on those preceding, as our Notes and +Illustrations to the several poems prove. There are some +very valuable additions throughout, entirely overlooked +by modern Editors. Our text of all not in 1652 volume +is based on that of 1648 collated with 1646.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">xvii</a></span></p> + +<p>The engravings celebrated in the Epigram of <span class="smcap">Car</span>—of +whom more, and of the origin and purpose of the +Volume, in our Essay—are as follows:</p> + +<p>1. 'To the noblest and best of ladyes:' a heart +with an emblematical lock. Beneath is printed 'Non Vi' +( = not by force), and the following lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis not the work of force but skill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find the way into man's will.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis loue alone can hearts vnlock:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knowes the Word, he needs not knock.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>2. 'To the name above every name.' 'Numisma +Urbani 6.' A dove under the tiara, surrounded with a +glory. The legend is, 'In unitate Deus est.'</p> + +<p>3. 'The Holy Nativity.' The Holy Family at Bethlehem. +Beneath are these lines in French and Latin:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ton Créateur te faict voir sa naissance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deignant souffrir pour toy des son enfance.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quem vidistis, Pastores, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Natum vidimus, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>4. 'The Glorious Epiphanie.' The adoration of the +Magi-kings.</p> + +<p>5. 'The Office of the Holy Crosse.' Christ on the +Cross. Beneath (from the Vulgate),</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tradidit semetipsum pro nobis oblationem et hostiam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deo in odorem suavitatis.—Ad Ephe. 5.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>6. 'The Recommendation.' The ascended Saviour +looking down toward the Earth. Above, this line,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Expostulatio Jesu Christi cum mundo ingrato.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Beneath, a Latin poem of thirteen lines, which appears +in its place in our Vol. II.</p> + +<p>7. 'Sancta Maria Dolorum.' The Virgin Mary under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">xviii</a></span> +the Cross with the instruments of the Passion, holding +the dead Saviour in her arms.</p> + +<p>8. 'Hymn of St. Thomas.' A Remonstrance. 'Ecce +panis Angelorum.'</p> + +<p>9. 'Dies Iræ.' The Last Judgment. 'Dies Iræ, +dies illa.'</p> + +<p>10. 'O Gloriosa Domina.' The Virgin Mary and +Child. Angels hold a crown over her head, surmounted +by the Holy Dove. Beneath:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">S. Maria Major.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dilectus meus mihi, et ego illi,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Qui pascitur inter lilia. Cant.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>11. 'The Weeper.' A female head, showing beneath, +a bleeding and burning heart, surrounded by a glory. +This couplet is below:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, where a wounded heart, with bleeding eyes conspire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is she a flaming fountaine, or a weeping fire?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>12. 'Hymn to St. Teresa.' Portrait: scroll above, +inscribed 'Misericors Domini in æternum cantabo.' Beneath, +'La Vray Portraict de Ste. Terese, Fondatrice +des Religieuses et Religieux réformez de l'ordre de N. +Dame de mont Carmel: Décédée le 4<sup>e</sup> Octo. 1582. Canonisée +le 12<sup>e</sup> Mars 1622.'</p> + +<p>Besides these <span class="smcap">Twelve</span>, I discovered another in illustration +of 'O Gloriosa Domina,' substituted for No. 10 in +the very fine copy of the volume in the Douce Collection +in the Bodleian. I have the satisfaction of furnishing +admirable reproductions in fac-simile of Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, +5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 12, and by the kindness of the +Bodleian Trustees, the unique illustration for No. 10. +No. 11 by my friend <span class="smcap">W.J. Linton</span>, Esq. The whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">xix</a></span> +of these belong exclusively to our illustrated quarto edition, +and the impressions taken have been strictly limited +thereto, and a very few for my own gift-use.</p> + +<p>We have now done with genuine editions; but have +yet to notice a wretched medley which bears the name of +the '2d edition.' Its title-page is given in our Note (as +before). This volume is fairly printed; but whatever +was meant by '2d edition,' whether it was so styled from +ignorance of the edition of 1648 or copying of its title, +or because it was meant for a 2d edition of 1652, it is +a deplorable compilation made out of 1646 and 1652. +It first reprints 1646 and then 1652, omitting in the +second part such poems of 1652 as were in 1646, but +without taking the trouble of correcting any, so as to +bring them into agreement with the better text. Not to +mention well-nigh innumerable misprints and omissions, +so blind is it, that it has twice printed two poems which +in 1652 had their titles altered, not observing that it had +already printed them under the old titles. These were +the poems, <i>On the Death of a Young Gentleman</i>, and in +<i>Praise of Lessius</i>. It contains only the eight Latin +Poems of 1646, and no others. Of this edition <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> +says, 'In its text [it is] the most inaccurate of all'—and—What +then? He reprints it! and leaves undetected +its inaccuracies and omissions, and superadds as +many more of his own—as our Notes and Illustrations +demonstrate, albeit we have left many blunders unrecorded, +contenting ourselves with seeing that our own is +correct. And yet this Editor got in a rage with a correspondent +(Professor M'Carthy) of <i>Notes and Queries</i>, +who at the time corrected incidentally a misprinted letter—oblivious +of (literally) hundreds infinitely worse.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">xx</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peregrine Phillips</span> in 1785 published a very well-printed +volume of 'Selections' from <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>; but, like +<span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>, he blundered over the (so-called) '2d edition' +of 1670, and seems never to have seen those of 1648 +and 1652. Of other more recent editions I shall speak +in our Essay, and, as already stated in our Memorial-Introduction, +notice the University Collections and others, +to which our Poet contributed. In its place, at close of +the present Volume, see account of a hitherto unused +edition of a Verse-Letter to <span class="smcap">Countess of Denbigh</span>.</p> + +<p>Of the Poems now for the first time printed, the present +Volume contains no fewer than fifteen or sixteen +with important additions: Vol. II. will contain very +many more, as well as our Translation of the hitherto +untranslated Poems and Epigrams. The source of all +these erewhile unprinted Poems is Vol. 465 among the +<span class="smcap">Tanner mss.</span>, which is known to be in the handwriting +(mainly) of Archbishop <span class="smcap">Sancroft</span>. The Volume +is a collection of contemporary Poetry, but as it now +rests in the Bodleian is imperfect, as the Index shows. +The following details will probably interest our readers. +In the Index is first of all the following, 'Mr. Crashaw's +Epigrams, sacra Latina;' but it is erased. Then +underneath is written 'Mr. Crashaw's poems transcrib'd +frō his own copie, before they were printed; amongst +w<sup>ch</sup> are some not printed.' 'Latin, On y<sup>e</sup> Gospels v p 7. +On other Subiects p 39, 95, 229. English Sacred +Poems p 111. On other Subiects—39, 162, 164 v +167 v 196. 202 v 206. 223. v Suspetto di Herodi, +translated frō Car. Marino p 287 v.' Guided by +this Index—for, though to some '<span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' is prefixed, +others printed in 1646 and 1648 are left without name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">xxi</a></span> +or initials—page 7 to 22 contains Latin Poems and Epigrams +still unpublished. On page 22 is a large letter C += Crashaw. The pagination then leaps to p. 39 and goes +on to page 64, and consists of Latin Poems and one +in Greek 'On other Subjects,' also wholly unpublished. +Page 66 is blank, and a blank leaf follows. Then there +is a Latin poem by <span class="smcap">Wallis</span>, and pp. 95-6 contain other +Latin poems by <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, in part published. Pages 97-102 +are blank, and the pagination again leaps to p. 111, +where begin the English Sacred Poems, continuing to +page 137, with 'Crashaw' written at end. These pages +(111-137) contain mainly Poems and Epigrams before +published. On page 130 is a short poem 'On Good +Friday' by T. Randolph. On page 135 are two poems +by Dr. Alabaster: then, on page 136, Crashaw's poem +'On the Assumption,' and on page 137, a short poem by +Wotton. Pages 138-142 are blank, and once more the +pagination passes to p. 159, where there is a poem by +<span class="smcap">Giles Fletcher</span> (pp. 159-160)—printed by us in Appendix +to Poems of Dr. <span class="smcap">Giles Fletcher</span> in our <span class="smcap">Fuller +Worthies' Miscellanies</span>. Pages 160-1 have poems +by Corbett (erroneously inserted as <span class="smcap">Herrick's</span> by Hazlitt +in his edition of Herrick), and a Song by <span class="smcap">Wotton</span>. +On page 162 'The Faire Ethiopian,' by <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>: p. +163, 'Upon Mr. Cl.' [Cleveland?], who made a Song +against the D.D.s—The complaint of a woman with +child [both anonymous]. Then at page 164 'Upon a +gnatt burnt in a candle,' by Crashaw (being entered in +Index as <i>supra</i>), and never published. On pages 165-6, +Love's Horoscope (published): p. 166, <i>Ad Amicam</i>. +T.R. (not by <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, being entered in Index under +Randolph): pp. 167-71, Fidicinis et Philomela Bellum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">xxii</a></span> +Musicum, and Upon Herbert's Temple: pp. 172-3, Upon +Isaacson's Frontispiece (the second piece): pp. 173-4, An +invitation to faire weather (all published before). Then +translations from the Latin Poets with '<span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' above +each, pp. 174-178—all unpublished: pp. 178-9, from +Virgil (published). Next on pp. 180-87 are the following: +'On y<sup>e</sup> Gunpowder-Treason' (three separate pieces), +and 'Upon the King's Coronation' (two pieces). These +have never been printed until now in our present Vol., and +they are unquestionably Crashaw's, inasmuch as (<i>a</i>) All +entered thus 164 v. 167 are by him, and so these being +entered under his name in Index as 167 v. 196 must +belong to him; (<i>b</i>) 'Upon the King's Coronation' are +renderings in part of his own Latin; (<i>c</i>) As shown in +our Essay (where also their biographic value is shown) +unusual words used by Crashaw occur in them. Pp. 187-90, +'Panegyrick upon the birth of the Duke of York' +(published): pp. 190-2, 'Upon the birth of the Princesse +Elizabeth' (never before printed). Pages 192-196, poems +by Corbett, Wotton, and others. Pages 196-7, Translation +from the Latin <i>Ex Euphormione</i> (not before published), +and on Lessius (published). Then pp. 197-201, +poems by various, in part anonymous: pp. 202-3, An +Elegy on Staninough—not having his name or initials, +but entered in Index under his name—(never before published): +pp. 203-5, In obitum desider. M<sup>ri</sup> Chambers +(published, but the heading new), and Upon the death +of a friend (not before published): p. 205, 'On a cobler' +(anonymous): p. 206, In obitum D<sup>r</sup> Brooke: Epitaphium +Conjug. (published): page 207, poem by <span class="smcap">Culverwell</span>: +p. 208, blank; and then the pagination passes to p. 223. +Pages 223-229, poems on Herrys [or Harris] (all published,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">xxiii</a></span> +but with variations): pp. 229-30, Elegie on Dr. +Porter (never before published, and entered in Index +under Crashaw): from p. 231 to 238, various poems, +but none by Crashaw; then the pagination leaps to p. +238, and goes on to p. 255, with various pieces, but +again none by <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>. On pp. 297-8 are eight of +the published English Epigrams. All the other anonymous +and avowed poems being entered in the Index +separately from <span class="smcap">Crashaw's</span>, and under either their titles +or authors, makes us safe to exclude them from our +Volumes. On the other hand, the Index-entries and +'R.C.' together, assure us that rich and virgin as is the +treasure-trove of unprinted and unpublished Poems—English +and Latin, especially the Latin—it is without a +shadow of doubt <span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw's</span>, and of supreme +worth. I have also had the good fortune to discover a +Harleian <span class="smcap">ms.</span> from Lord Somers' Library (6917-18), +which furnishes some valuable readings of some of the +Poems, as recorded and used by us.</p> + +<p>Throughout we have endeavoured with all fidelity +to reproduce our Worthy in integrity of text and orthography—diminishing +only (slightly) italics and capitals, +and as usual giving capitals to all divine Names (nouns +and pronouns) and personifications. In Notes and Illustrations +all various readings are recorded, and such +elucidations and filling-in of names and allusions as are +likely to be helpful.</p> + + +<p class="p2">It is now my pleasant duty to return right hearty, +because heartfelt, thanks to many friends and correspondents +who have aided me in a somewhat arduous and +difficult work and 'labour of love.' To the venerable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">xxiv</a></span> +and illustrious man whose name by express permission +adorns my Dedication, I owe a debt of gratitude for a +beautiful, a pathetic, a (to me) sacred Letter, that greatly +animated me to go forward. By my admirable friends +Revs. <span class="smcap">J.H. Clark</span>, M.A., of West Dereham, Norfolk, +and <span class="smcap">Thomas Ashe</span>, M.A., Ipswich, my edition (as Vol. +II. will evidence) is advantaged in various Translations +for the first time of the Latin poems, valuable in themselves, +and the more valued for the generous enthusiasm +and modesty with which they were offered, not to say +how considerably they have lightened my own work in the +same field. To Dr. <span class="smcap">Brinsley Nicholson</span>, who retains +in the Army his fine literary culture and acumen; to +<span class="smcap">W. Aldis Wright</span>, Esq., M.A., Trinity College, Cambridge; +the very Reverend Dr. <span class="smcap">F.C. Husenbeth</span>, Cossey, +Norwich; the Earl and Countess of <span class="smcap">Denbigh</span>; Monsignor +<span class="smcap">Stonor</span>, Rome; to Correspondents at <span class="smcap">Loretto</span>, <span class="smcap">Douai</span>, +<span class="smcap">Paris</span>, &c.; and to Colonel <span class="smcap">Chester</span> and Mr. <span class="smcap">W.T. +Brooke</span>, London,—I wish to tender my warmest thanks +for various services most pleasantly rendered; all to the +enrichment of our edition.</p> + +<p>The Illustrations (in the 4to) speak for themselves. +I cannot sufficiently express my acknowledgments for +the spontaneous and ever-increasing willinghood of my +artist-poet friend <span class="smcap">W.J. Linton</span>, Esq., who from his +temporary Transatlantic home has sent me the exquisite +head- and tail-pieces in both volumes, besides cunningly +interpreting the two original Illustrations drawn for me +by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Hugh Blackburn</span> of Glasgow, and the Poet's +'Weeper.' To Mrs. <span class="smcap">Blackburn</span> her work is its own +abundant reward; but none the less do I appreciate her +great kindness to me.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxv" id="Page_xxv">xxv</a></span></p> + +<p>Anything else needing to be said will be found in +the Memorial-Introduction and Essay on the Life and +Poetry, and Notes and Illustrations. I cannot better +close our Preface than with the fine tribute of <span class="smcap">R. Aris +Willmott</span>, in his 'Dream of the Poets,' wherein he +catches up the echo of <span class="smcap">Cowley</span> across two centuries:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poet and Saint! thy sky was dark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sad thy lonely vigil here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thy meek spirit, like the lark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still showered music on the ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From its own heaven ever clear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No pining mourner thou! thy strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could breathe a slumber upon Pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Singing thy tears asleep: not long<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To stray by Siloa's brook was thine:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet Time hath never dealt thee wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor brush'd the sweet bloom from thy line:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou hast a home in every song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In every Christian heart, a shrine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="right"> +<span class="smcap">Alexander B. Grosart.</span></p> + +<p>15 St. Alban's Place, Blackburn, Lancashire,<br /> +4th February 1872.</p> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_d.png" width="200" height="90" alt="Decoration D" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxvii" id="Page_xxvii"></a><br /><a name="Page_xxvi" id="Page_xxvi"></a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION" id="MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION"></a>MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.</h2> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<p>In a Study of the Life and Poetry of our present Worthy, +which will be found in our Volume II.—thus postponed +in order that the completed Works may be before the student-reader +along with it—I venture to hope new light +will be shed on both, and his character as a Man and +Poet—one of the richest of the minor Poets of England—vindicated +and interpreted as never hitherto they +have been. Some memories cannot bear the '<i>cruel light</i>' +of close scrutiny, some poetries when tested prove falsetto-noted. +<span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw</span> grows on us the more +insight we gain. If he were as well known as <span class="smcap">George +Herbert</span>, he would be equally cherished, while his Poetry +would be recognised as perfumed with all his devoutness +and of a diviner '<i>stuff</i>' and woven in a grander loom; in +sooth, infinitely deeper and finer in almost every element +of true singing as differenced from pious and gracious versifying. +In this hurrying-scurrying age, only twos-and-threes +take time to hold communion with these ancient +Worthies; and hence my Essay, as with the <span class="smcap">Fletchers</span> +and <span class="smcap">Lord Brooke</span> and <span class="smcap">Henry Vaughan</span>, may win-back +that recognition and love due to <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>.</p> + +<p>Then, in a much fuller and more adequate Memoir +than hitherto furnished of <span class="smcap">William Crashaw</span>, B.D.,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxviii" id="Page_xxviii">xxviii</a></span> +father of our Poet—also in our Volume II.—the usually-given +ancestral details will appear from new and unused +sources. So that here and now I intend to limit myself +to a brief statement of the few outward Facts, <i>i.e.</i> reserving +their relation to the central thing in <span class="smcap">Richard +Crashaw's</span> life—his passing from Protestantism to +Catholicism, and to contemporaries and inner friends, +and to his Poetry—to our announced Study.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Willmott</span> in his 'Lives of the English Sacred Poets' +(vol. first, 1834, vol. second, 1839), begins his fine-toned +little Notice thus: 'After an anxious search in all the +accessible sources of information, I am able to tell little +of one of whom every lover of poetry must desire to know +much. The time of his birth and of his decease is involved +in equal mystery.'<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Our 'all' is still 'little' as +compared with what we yearn for; but we do not need +to begin so dolorously as our predecessor, for we have +discovered both the 'time of his <i>birth</i> and of his <i>decease</i>.' +He was born in London in 1612-3; this date being arrived +at from the register-entry of his age on admission +to the University, viz. 18 in 1630-1 (as hereafter stated). +<span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> was then retired to his beloved Stratford; +<span class="smcap">Milton</span> was in the sixth year of his cherub-beauty. His +father being 'Preacher at the Temple' at the date would +have determined <span class="smcap">London</span> to have been his birthplace; +but his admission to Pembroke and his own signature at +Peterhouse, 'Richardum Crashaw, <i>Londinensem</i>,' prove +it. Who was his mother I have failed to find. The second +Mrs. <span class="smcap">William Crashaw</span>, celebrated in a remarkable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxix" id="Page_xxix">xxix</a></span> +contemporary poetical tractate printed (if not published) +by her bereaved husband (of which more anon +and elsewhere, as <i>supra</i>), could not have been the Poet's +mother, as she was not married to <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> (<i>pater</i>) until +1619. We should gladly have exchanged the 'Honour +of Vertue or the Monument erected by the sorrowfull +Husband and the Epitaphs annexed by learned and +worthy men, to the immortall memory of that worthy +Gentle-woman M<sup>rs.</sup> <span class="smcap">Elizabeth Crashawe</span>. Who dyed +in child-birth, and was buried in Whit-Chappel: Octob. +8. 1620. In the 24 yeare of her age'—for a page on +the first Mrs. Crashaw. Yet is it pleasant to know the +motherless little lad received such a new mother as this +tribute pictures. In 1620 he was in his ninth year. Thus +twice a broad shadow blackened his father's house and +his home. Little more than a year had he his 'second' +mother.</p> + +<p>Our after-Memoir of the elder <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> shows that +he was a man of no ordinary force of character and influence. +The Epistles-dedicatory to his numerous polemical +books are addressed with evident familiarity to the foremost +in Church and State: and it is in agreement with +this to learn (as we do) that <span class="smcap">Master Richard</span> gained +admission to the great 'Charterhouse' School through +<span class="smcap">Sir Henry Yelverton</span> and <span class="smcap">Sir Randolph Crew</span>—the +former the patron-friend of the saintly <span class="smcap">Dr. Sibbes</span>, the +latter of <span class="smcap">Herrick</span>, and both of mark. The Register of +Charterhouse as now extant begins in 1680. So that +we know not the date of young Crashaw's entry on the +'foundation' provided so munificently by <span class="smcap">Sutton</span>.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxx" id="Page_xxx">xxx</a></span> +we shall find, one of the Teachers—Brooke—is gratefully +and characteristically remembered by our Worthy in one +of his Latin poems, none the less gratefully that 'the +rod' is recalled. He was 'Schoolmaster' from 1627-8 +to 1643. The age of admission was 10 to 14: the latter +would bring us to 1627-8, or Brooke's first year of office. +Probably, however, he entered sooner; but neither <span class="smcap">Robert +Grey</span> (1624-26) nor <span class="smcap">William Middleton</span>, A.M. +(1626-28), nor others of the Masters or celebrities of +the famous School are celebrated by him, with the exception +of (afterwards) <span class="smcap">Bishop Laney</span>. <span class="smcap">Francis Beaumont</span> +was Head-Master in June 18, 1624, and I should +have liked to have been able to associate <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> with +the Beaumont family. Probably <span class="smcap">Dr. Joseph Beaumont</span> +of 'Psyche' was a school-fellow.</p> + +<p>How long the Charterhouse was attended is unknown; +but renewed researches at <span class="smcap">Cambridge</span> add to as +well as correct the usual dates of his attendance there. +<span class="smcap">Willmott</span> states that 'he was elected a scholar of Pembroke +Hall, March 26, 1632,' and remarks, 'and yet we +find him lamenting the premature death of his friend, +William Herrys, a fellow of the same College, which +happened in the October of 1631.'<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> He quotes from the +<span class="smcap">Cole mss.</span> The original register in the Admission-book +of Pembroke College removes the difficulty, and is +otherwise valuable, as will be seen. It is as follows:</p> + +<blockquote><p>'Julij 6. 1631. Richardus Crashawe, Gulielmi presbyteri +filius, natus Londini annos habens 18, admissus est +ad 2æ mensæ ordinem sub tutela M<sup>ri</sup> Tourney.'</p></blockquote> + +<p>He was 'matriculated <i>pensioner</i> of Pembroke, March 26,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxi" id="Page_xxxi">xxxi</a></span> +1632,' but, as above, his 'admission' preceded. Belonging +to Essex, it is not improbable that <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> and +<span class="smcap">Harris</span> were school-fellows at the Charterhouse. His +'friendships' and associates, so winsomely 'sung' of, will +demand full after-notice. In 1632-3 appeared <span class="smcap">George +Herbert's</span> 'Temple;' an influential event in our Poet's +history. He took the degree of B.A. in 1634. In 1634 +he published anonymously his volume of Latin Epigrams +and other Poems; a very noticeable book from a youth of +20, especially as most must have been composed long +previously. He passed from Pembroke to Peterhouse +in 1636; and again I have the satisfaction to give, for +the first time, the entry in the old College Register. It +is as follows:</p> + +<blockquote><p>'Anno Domini millesimo sexcentesimo tricesimo +sexto vicesimo die mensis Novembris Richardus Crashaw +admissus fuit a Reverendo in Christo Patre ac D<sup>no</sup> D<sup>no</sup> +Francisco Episcopo Elæcisi ad locum sive societatem +Magistri Simon Smith legitime vacantem in Collegio +sive Domo S<sup>ti</sup> Petri, et vicesimo secundo die ejusdem +mensis coram Magistro et Sociis ejusdem Collegii personaliter +constitutus, juramentum præstitit quod singulis +Ordinationibus et Statutis Collegii (quantum in ipso est) +reverenter obediret, et specialiter præter hoc de non appellando +contra amotionem suam secundum modum et +formam statutorum prædictorum et de salvando cistam +Magistri Thomæ de Castro Bernardi et Magri Thomæ +Holbrooke (quantum in ipso est) indemnum, quo juramento +præstito admissus fuit a Magistro Collegii in perpetuum +socium ejusdem Collegii et in locum supradictum. +Per me Richardum Crashaw Londinensem.' (p. +500.)</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxii" id="Page_xxxii">xxxii</a></span></p> + +<p>He was made Fellow in 1637, and M.A. in 1638; looking +forward to becoming a 'Minister' of the Gospel. +His Latin Poems in honour of, and in pathetic appeal +regarding <span class="smcap">Peterhouse</span>, are of the rarest interest, and +suggest much elucidatory of his great 'change' in religious +matters; a change that must have been a sad +shock to his ultra-Protestant father, but in which, beyond +all gainsaying, conscience ruled, if the heart quivered. +While at the University he was called on to +contribute to the various 'Collections' issued from 1631 +onward; and it certainly is once more noticeable that +such a mere youth should have been thus recognised. +His Verses—Latin and English—appeared thus with +those of <span class="smcap">Henry More</span>, <span class="smcap">Joseph Beaumont</span>, <span class="smcap">Edward +King</span> ('Lycidas'), <span class="smcap">Cowley</span>, and others; and more than +hold their own. In 1635 <span class="smcap">Shelford</span>, 'priest' of <span class="smcap">Ringsfield</span>, +obtained a laudatory poem from him for his 'Five +Pious and Learned Discourses.' According to <span class="smcap">Anthony +a-Wood</span>, on the authority of one who knew (<i>not</i> from +the Registers), he took a degree in 1641 at Oxford.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>Of his inner Life and experiences during these years +(twelve at least), and the influences that went to shape +his decision and after-course, and his relation to the +<span class="smcap">Countess of Denbigh</span>, I shall speak fully and I trust +helpfully in our Essay. We need to get at the Facts +and Circumstances to pronounce a righteous verdict.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxiii" id="Page_xxxiii">xxxiii</a></span> +For his great-brained, stout-hearted, iron-willed Father, +the stormy period was congenial: but for his son the +atmosphere was mephitic; as the Editor's 'Preface to +the Learned Reader,' in his 'character' of him, suggests. +Signatures were being put unsolemnly to the Solemn +League and Covenant,' and as a political not a religious +thing, by too many. <span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw</span> could not do +that, and the crash of 'Ejection' came. Here is the +rescript from the Register of <span class="smcap">Peterhouse</span> once more +unused hitherto:<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<blockquote><p>'Whereas in pursuite of an ordinance of Parliament +for regulating and reforming of the Universitie of Cambridge, +I have ejected Mr. Beaumont, Mr. Penniman, +Mr. Crashaw, Mr. Holder, Mr. Tyringham, late fellowes +of Peterhouse, in Cambridge. And whereas Mr. Charles +Hotham, Robert Quarles, Howard Becher, Walter Ellis, +Edward Sammes, have been examined and approved by +the Assembly of Divines now sitting at Westminster, +according to the said Ordinance as fitt to be Fellowes: +These are therefore to require you, and every of you, +to receive the said Charles Hotham, Robert Quarles, +Howard Becher, Walter Ellis, Masters of Arts; and +Edward Sammes, Bach<sup>r</sup>, as fellowes of your Colledge in +room of the said Mr. Beaumont, Mr. Penniman, Mr. +Crashaw, Mr. Holder, Mr. Tyringham, formerly ejected, +and to give them place according to their seniority in the +Universitie, in reference to all those that are or shall +hereafter bee putt in by mee accordinge to the Ordinance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxiv" id="Page_xxxiv">xxxiv</a></span> +of Parliament aforesaid. Given under my hand and +seale the eleaventh day of June anno 1644.</p></blockquote> + +<p class="right"> +<span class="smcap">'Manchester.</span></p> + +<p>'To the Master, President, and Fellowes of Peterhouse, in Cambridge.' +(p. 518.)</p> + +<p>'The ejection' of 1644, like that larger one of 1662, +brought much sorrow and trial to a number of good and +true souls. To one so gentle, shy, self-introspective as +<span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, it must have been as the tearing down of a +nest to a poor bird. His fellow-sufferers went hither and +thither. Our first glimpse of our Worthy after his 'ejection' +is in 1646, when the 'Steps to the Temple' and +'Delights of the Muses' appeared, with its Editor's +touching saying at the close of his Preface 'now dead to +us.' A second edition, with considerable additions, was +published in 1648. Previous to 1646 he had 'gone over' +to Catholicism; for in the 'Steps' of that year is 'An +Apologie' for his 'Hymn'—'In Memory of the Vertuous +and Learned Lady Madre de Teresa, that sought an +early Martyrdome.' In 1646 it is headed simply 'An +Apologie for the precedent Hymne:' in the 'Carmen +Deo Nostro' of 1652 it is more fully inscribed 'An Apologie +for the foregoing Hymn, as hauing been writt +when the author was yet among the Protestantes.' His +two Latin poems, '<i>Fides quæ sola justificat non est sine +spe et dilectione</i>' and '<i>Baptismus non tollit futura peccata</i>,' +were first published in 1648. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> was either +ignorant of their existence or intentionally suppressed +them.</p> + +<p>Our Worthy did not long remain in England. He +retired to France; and his little genial poem on sending +'two green apricocks' to <span class="smcap">Cowley</span> sheds a gleam of light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxv" id="Page_xxxv">xxxv</a></span> +on his residence in Paris. <span class="smcap">Cowley</span> was in the 'gay city' +in 1646 as Secretary to <span class="smcap">Lord Jermyn</span>; and inasmuch as +the volume of that year contained his own alternate-poem +on 'Hope,' I like to imagine that he carried over a +copy of it to <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, and renewed their old friendship. +<span class="smcap">Cowley</span>, it is told, found our Poet in great poverty: but +<span class="smcap">Car's</span> verses somewhat lighten the gloom. The 'Secretary' +of <span class="smcap">Lord Jermyn</span> introduced his friend to the Queen +of Charles I., who was then a fugitive in Paris. So it +usually runs: but <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> had previously 'sung' of +and to her Majesty. From the Queen the Poet obtained +letters of recommendation to Italy; and from a contemporary +notice, hereafter to be used, we learn he became +'Secretary' at Rome to <span class="smcap">Cardinal Palotta</span>. He appears +to have remained in Rome until 1649-50, and by very +'plain speech' on the moralities, that is immoralities, +of certain ecclesiastics, to have drawn down on himself +Italian jealousy and threats. His 'good' Cardinal provided +a place of shelter in the Lady-chapel of <span class="smcap">Loretto</span>, +of which he was made a Canon. But his abode there was +very brief; for, by a document sent me from Loretto, I +ascertained that he died of fever after a few weeks' residence +only, and was buried within the chapel there, in +1650.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> <span class="smcap">Cowley</span> shed 'melodious tears' over his dear +friend, in which he turns to fine account his '<i>fever</i>' end: +and with his priceless tribute, of which <span class="smcap">Dr. Johnson<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxvi" id="Page_xxxvi">xxxvi</a></span></span> +said, 'In these verses there are beauties which common +authors may justly think not only above their attainment, +but above their ambition,'<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>—I close for the present our +Memoir:</p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">On the Death of Mr. Crashaw.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poet and Saint! to thee alone are giv'n<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The two most sacred names of Earth and Heav'n,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hardest, rarest union which can be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next that of godhead with humanity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long did the Muses banish'd slaves abide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And built vain pyramids to mortal pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Moses thou (tho' spells and charms withstand)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast brought them nobly home, back to their Holy Land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ah, wretched we, Poets of Earth! but thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wert living, the same Poet which thou'rt now;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst angels sing to thee their ayres divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joy in an applause so great as thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Equal society with them to hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou need'st not make new songs, but say the old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they (kind spirits!) shall all rejoice to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How little less than they, exalted man may be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Still the old heathen gods in numbers dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heav'nliest thing on Earth still keeps up Hell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor have we yet quite purg'd the Christian land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still idols here, like calves at Bethel stand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tho' Pan's death long since all or'cles broke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still in rhyme the fiend Apollo spoke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, with the worst of heathen dotage, we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Vain men!) the monster woman deifie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find stars, and tie our fates there in a face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Paradise in them, by whom we lost it, place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What diff'rent faults corrupt our Muses thus?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wanton as girls, as old wives, fabulous.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thy spotless Muse, like Mary, did contain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boundless Godhead; she did well disdain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxvii" id="Page_xxxvii">xxxvii</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That her eternal verse employ'd should be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a less subject than eternity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for a sacred mistress scorn'd to take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But her whom God Himself scorn'd not His spouse to make:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It (in a kind) her miracle did do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fruitful mother was, and virgin too.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">How well (blest Swan) did Fate contrive thy death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made thee render up thy tuneful breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thy great mistress's arms! Thou most divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And richest off'ring of Loretto's shrine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, like some holy sacrifice t' expire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fever burns thee, and Love lights the fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Angels (they say) brought the fam'd chappel there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bore the sacred load in triumph thro' the air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis surer much they brought thee there; and they,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou, their charge, went singing all the way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Pardon, my Mother-Church, if I consent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That angels led him, when from thee he went;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ev'n in error, sure no danger is,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When join'd with so much piety as his.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! mighty God, with shame I speak't, and grief;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! that our greatest faults were in belief!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our weak reason were ev'n weaker yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather than thus, our wills too strong for it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I, myself, a Catholick will be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So far at least, great Saint! to pray to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hail, Bard triumphant! and some care bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On us, the Poets militant below:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oppos'd by our old enemy, adverse Chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attack'd by Envy and by Ignorance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enchain'd by Beauty, tortur'd by desires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expos'd by tyrant-love, to savage beasts and fires.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou from low Earth in nobler flames didst rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like Elijah, mount alive the skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elisha-like (but with a wish much less,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More fit thy greatness and my littleness;)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo here I beg (I whom thou once didst prove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So humble to esteem, so good to love)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxviii" id="Page_xxxviii">xxxviii</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not that thy sp'rit might on me doubled be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ask but half thy mighty sp'rit for me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when my Muse soars with so strong a wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twill learn of things divine, and first of thee to sing.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="right"> +<span class="smcap">Alexander B. Grosart.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_e.png" width="200" height="152" alt="Decoration E" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxxix" id="Page_xxxix"></a></span></p> + + + + +<h1><small><small>THE</small></small><br /> + +WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.</h1> + +<hr class="r10" /> + + +<h3>VOL. I.</h3> + +<h2>ENGLISH POETRY.</h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xl" id="Page_xl"></a></span></p> + + +<h3 class="p6"><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE"></a>NOTE.</h3> + +<p>The title-pages, with collation, of the original and early editions +of 'Steps to the Temple' and 'The Delights of the Muses' +(1646 to 1670) are here given successively:</p> + +<p><small><i>1st edition</i>, 1646. (1)</small></p> + + + +<h1>STEPS<br /> + +<small><small>TO THE</small></small><br /> + +TEMPLE.</h1> + + +<p class="center">Sacred Poems,</p> + +<p class="center">With other Delights of the<br /> +<span class="smcap">Muses</span>.</p> + +<h3><small>By</small> <span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw</span>, <small><i>sometimes<br /> +of</i> <span class="smcap">Pembroke</span> <i>Hall, and<br /> +late Fellow of</i> S. Peters <i>Coll.</i><br /> +in Cambridge.</small></h3> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center"><i>Printed and Published according to Order.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">LONDON,<br /> +Printed by T.W. for <i>Humphrey Moseley</i>, and<br /> +are to be sold at his shop at the Princes<br /> +Armes in S<sup>t</sup> <i>Pauls</i> Church-yard.<br /> +1646. +</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xli" id="Page_xli"></a></span></p> + +<p class="p4">(2)</p> + + + + +<h1><small>THE</small><br /> + +DELIGHTS<br /> + +<small><small>OF THE</small></small><br /> + +MUSES.<br /> + +<small><small>OR,</small></small><br /> + +<small>Other Poems written on<br /> +severall occasions.</small></h1> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw</span>, <i>sometimes of</i> Pembroke<br /> +<i>Hall, and late Fellow of</i> S<sup>t</sup>. Peters<br /> +<i>Colledge in</i> Cambridge.</h3> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">Mart. Dic mihi quid melius desidiosus agas.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">London,<br /> + +Printed by T.W. for <i>H. Moseley</i>, at<br /> +the Princes Armes in S. <i>Pauls</i><br /> +Churchyard, 1646. [12<sup>o</sup>] +</p> + +<p>Collation: Title-page; the Preface to the Reader, pp. 6; the +Author's Motto and short Note to Reader, pp. 2 [all unpaged]; +'Steps to the Temple,' pp. 99; title-page of 'Delights,' as +<i>supra</i>, and pp. 103-138; the Table, pp. 4.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlii" id="Page_xlii">xlii</a></span></p> + +<p class="p4"><i>2d edition, 1648.</i></p> + + + + +<h1>STEPS<br /> + +<small><small>TO THE</small></small><br /> + +TEMPLE,<br /> + +<small>Sacred Poems.</small></h1> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">With</p> + +<p class="center">The Delights of the Muses.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<p class="center">By <span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw</span>, <i>sometimes<br /> +of</i> Pembroke Hall, <i>and<br /> +late fellow of</i> S. Peters <i>Coll.</i><br /> +in Cambridge.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<p class="center"><i>The second Edition wherein are added divers<br /> +pieces not before extant.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">London</span>,</p> + +<p class="center">Printed for <i>Humphrey Moseley</i>, and are to be<br /> +sold at his Shop at the Princes Armes<br /> +in S<sup>t</sup>. <i>Pauls</i> Church-yard.<br /> +1648. [12<sup>o</sup>] +</p> + +<p>The title-page to the 'Delights of the Muses' is exactly the +same with that of 1646, except the date '1648.' Collation: +Engraved title-page; title-page (printed); the Preface to the +Reader and the Author's Motto, pp. 6; 'Steps,' pp. 110; the +Table, pp. 4; the 'Delights;' title-page; the Table, pp. 3; +Poems, pp. 71.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xliii" id="Page_xliii"></a></span></p> + +<p class="p4"><i>3d edition, 1652.</i></p> + + + + +<h1>CARMEN<br /> + +DEO NOSTRO,</h1> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Te Decet Hymnvs</span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Sacred Poems</span>,</p> + +<p class="center">Collected,<br /> +Corrected,<br /> +Avgmented,<br /> +Most humbly Presented.<br /> +To<br /> +My Lady<br /> +The Covntesse of<br /> +<span class="smcap">Denbigh</span><br /> +By<br /> +Her most deuoted Seruant.<br /> +R.C.</p> + +<p class="center">In heaty [<i>sic</i>] acknowledgment of his immortall<br /> +obligation to her Goodnes & Charity.</p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">At Paris</span></p> + +<p class="center">By <span class="smcap">Peter Targa</span>, Printer to the Archbishope<br /> +ef [<i>sic</i>] Paris, in S. Victors streete at<br /> +the golden sunne.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">M.DC.LII. [8<sup>vo</sup>] +</p> + + + +<p>Collation: Title-page; Verses by <span class="smcap">Car</span>, pp. 3; Verse-Letter +to Countess of Denbigh, pp. 3 [all unpaged]; the Poems, pp. +131. (See our Preface for more on this and preceding and succeeding +volumes, and for notice of a separate edition of the +Verse-Letter to the Countess of Denbigh.)</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xliv" id="Page_xliv"></a></span></p> + +<p class="p4"><i>4th edition, erroneously designated 2d edition</i>, 1670.</p> + + + + +<h1>STEPS<br /> + +<small><small>TO THE</small></small><br /> + +TEMPLE,</h1> + +<p class="center">THE<br /> +<span class="smcap">Delights</span><br /> +Of The<br /> +Muses,<br /> +and<br /> +Carmen<br /> +Deo Nostro.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">By <i>Ric. Crashaw</i>, sometimes Fellow of <i>Pembroke<br /> +Hall</i>, and late Fellow of <i>S<sup>t</sup>. Peters<br /> +Colledge</i> in <i>Cambridge</i>.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center"><i>The 2<sup>d</sup>. Edition.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">In the Savoy,</p> + +<p class="center">Printed by T.N. for <i>Henry Herringham</i> at the<br /> +<i>Blew Anchor</i> in the <i>Lower Walk</i> of the<br /> +<i>New Exchange</i>. 1670. [8<sup>vo</sup>] +</p> + +<p>Collation: Engraving of a 'Temple;' title-page; the Preface +to the Reader and the Author's Motto, pp. 8; the Table, +pp. 6 [all unpaged]; 'Steps,' pp. 77; 'Delights,' pp. 81-137; +'Carmen Deo Nostro, Te Decet Hymnvs,' pp. 141-208. For +later editions see our Preface, as before, and for details on all, +early and recent, and Manuscripts; and also our Memorial-Introduction +and Essay. The 'Preface' of 1646 was reprinted in +1648 without change, save a few slight orthographical differences, +and these: p. xlvi. line 3, 'their' for 'its dearest:' p. xlvii. +line 1, 'subburd' for 'suburb:' and ibid, line 19, 'then' for +'than:' 1648 our text. It follows this Note in its own place. G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlv" id="Page_xlv"></a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="STEPS_TO_THE_TEMPLE" id="STEPS_TO_THE_TEMPLE"></a>STEPS TO THE TEMPLE, &c.</h2> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h3><a name="THE_PREFACE_TO_THE_READER" id="THE_PREFACE_TO_THE_READER"></a>THE PREFACE TO THE READER.</h3> + + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Learned Reader</span>,<br /> +</p> + +<p>The Author's friend will not usurpe much upon thy +eye: This is onely for those whom the name of our divine +Poet hath not yet seized<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> into admiration. I dare undertake +that what <span class="smcap">Jamblicus</span><a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> (<i>in vita Pythagoræ</i>) affirmeth of +his Master, at his contemplations, these Poems can, viz. +They shall lift thee, Reader, some yards above the ground: +and, as in <i>Pythagoras</i> Schoole, every temper was first +tuned into a height by severall proportions of Musick, and +spiritualiz'd for one of his weighty lectures; so maist thou +take a poem hence, and tune thy soule by it, into a heavenly +pitch;<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> and thus refined and borne up upon the +wings of meditation, in these Poems thou maist talke freely +of God, and of that other state.</p> + +<p>Here's <i>Herbert's</i><a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> second, but equall, who hath retriv'd +Poetry of late, and return'd it up to its primitive use; let<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlvi" id="Page_xlvi">xlvi</a></span> +it bound back to heaven gates, whence it came. Thinke +yee <span class="smcap">St. Augustine</span> would have steyned his graver learning +with a booke of Poetry, had he fancied its dearest end to +be the vanity of love-sonnets and epithalamiums? No, +no, he thought with this our Poet, that every foot in a +high-borne verse, might helpe to measure the soule into +that better world. Divine Poetry, I dare hold it in position, +against <span class="smcap">Suarez</span> on the subject, to be the language of the +angels; it is the quintessence of phantasie and discourse +center'd in Heaven; 'tis the very out-goings of the soule; +'tis what alone our Author is able to tell you, and that in +his owne verse.</p> + +<p>It were prophane but to mention here in the Preface +those under-headed Poets, retainers to seven shares and a +halfe;<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> madrigall fellowes, whose onely businesse in verse,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlvii" id="Page_xlvii">xlvii</a></span> +is to rime a poore six-penny soule, a suburb-sinner<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> into +Hell:—May such arrogant pretenders to Poetry vanish, +with their prodigious issue of tumorous<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> heats and flashes +of their adulterate braines, and for ever after, may this our +Poet fill up the better roome of man. Oh! when the generall +arraignment of Poets shall be, to give an accompt of +their higher soules, with what a triumphant brow shall our +divine Poet sit above, and looke downe upon poore <span class="smcap">Homer</span>, +<span class="smcap">Virgil</span>, <span class="smcap">Horace</span>, <span class="smcap">Claudian</span>, &c.? who had amongst them the +ill lucke to talke out a great part of their gallant genius, +upon bees, dung, froggs, and gnats, &c., and not as himself +here, upon Scriptures, divine graces, martyrs and angels.</p> + +<p>Reader, we stile his Sacred Poems, Steps to the Temple, +and aptly, for in the Temple of God, under His wing, he +led his life, in St. Marie's Church neere St. Peter's Colledge: +there he lodged under <span class="smcap">Tertullian's</span> roofe of angels; +there he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow +neere the house of God, where like a primitive saint, he +offered more prayers in the night than others usually offer +in the day; there he penned these Poems, <span class="smcap">STEPS</span> for happy +soules to climbe heaven by. And those other of his pieces, +intituled The Delights of the Muses, (though of a more humane +mixture) are as sweet as they are innocent.</p> + +<p>The praises that follow, are but few of many that might +be conferr'd on him: he was excellent in five languages +(besides his mother tongue), vid. Hebrew, Greek, Latin, +Italian, Spanish, the two last whereof he had little helpe +in, they were of his own acquisition.</p> + +<p>Amongst his other accomplishments in accademick (as +well pious as harmlesse arts) he made his skill in Poetry, +Musick, Drawing, Limming, Graving (exercises of his curious +invention and sudden fancy) to be but his subservient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xlviii" id="Page_xlviii">xlviii</a></span> +recreations for vacant houres, not the grand businesse of +his soule.</p> + +<p>To the former qualifications I might adde that which +would crowne them all, his rare moderation in diet (almost +Lessian temperance<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a>); he never created a Muse out of distempers, +nor (with our Canary scribblers<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a>) cast any strange +mists of surfets before the intellectuall beames of his mind +or memory, the latter of which he was so much a master +of, that he had there under locke and key in readinesse, +the richest treasures of the best Greek and Latine poets, +some of which Authors hee had more at his command +by heart, than others that onely read their works, to retaine +little, and understand lesse.</p> + +<p>Enough Reader, I intend not a volume of praises larger +than his booke, nor need I longer transport thee to think +over his vast perfections: I will conclude all that I have +impartially writ of this learned young Gent. (now dead to +us) as he himselfe doth, with the last line of his poem +upon Bishop Andrews' picture before his Sermons: <i>Verte +paginas</i>,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Look on his following leaves, and see him breath.'<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<p class="center"> +THE AUTHOR'S MOTTO.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Live Iesus, live, and let it bee<br /> +My life, to dye for love of Thee.</p> +<p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span></p> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + + + +<h1><a name="Sacred_Poetry_1" id="Sacred_Poetry_1"></a>Sacred Poetry.</h1> + +<hr class="r10" /> + + +<h3>I.</h3> + +<h2>STEPS TO THE TEMPLE</h2> + +<p class="center">(1648),</p> + +<p class="center">AND</p> + +<h2>CARMEN DEO NOSTRO &c.</h2> + +<p class="center">(1652). +</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a><br /> +<a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="SAINTE_MARY_MAGDALENE_OR_THE" id="SAINTE_MARY_MAGDALENE_OR_THE"></a>SAINTE MARY MAGDALENE, OR THE +WEEPER.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loe! where a wounded heart with bleeding eyes conspire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is she a flaming fountain, or a weeping fire?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="r10" /> + + +<h3>THE WEEPER.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></h3> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Hail, sister springs!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Parents of syluer-footed rills!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Euer-bubling things!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thawing crystall! snowy hills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still spending, neuer spent! I mean<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fair eyes, sweet Magdalene!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span></p> +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Heauens thy fair eyes be;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heauens of euer-falling starres.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis seed-time still with thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And starres thou sow'st, whose haruest dares<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Promise the Earth, to counter-shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whateuer makes heaun's forehead fine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">But we' are deceiuèd all:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Starres indeed they are too true;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For they but seem to fall,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As heaun's other spangles doe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is not for our Earth and vs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shine in things so pretious.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Vpwards thou dost weep:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heaun's bosome drinks the gentle stream.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where th' milky riuers creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thine floates aboue, and is the cream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waters aboue th' heauns, what they be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We' are taught best by thy teares and thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Euery morn from hence,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">A brisk cherub something sippes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose sacred influence<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Addes sweetnes to his sweetest lippes;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then to his musick; and his song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tasts of this breakfast all day long.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">When some new bright guest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Takes vp among the starres a room,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Heaun will make a feast:<br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>phials</i></span> +<span class="i2">Angels with crystall violls come <br /></span> +<span class="i0">And draw from these full eyes of thine,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their Master's water, their own wine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">The deaw no more will weep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The primrose's pale cheek to deck:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The deaw no more will sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nuzzel'd in the lilly's neck;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much rather would it be thy tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaue them both to tremble here.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Not the soft gold which<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Steales from the amber-weeping tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Makes Sorrow halfe so rich<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the drops distil'd from thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sorrowe's best iewels lye in these<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caskets, of which Heaven keeps the keyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">When Sorrow would be seen<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> +<span class="i2">In her brightest majesty:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">(For she is a Queen):<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then is she drest by none but thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, and only then, she weares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her proudest pearles: I mean, thy teares.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>X.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Not in the Euening's eyes,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When they red with weeping are<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the Sun that dyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sitts Sorrow with a face so fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nowhere but here did ever meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweetnesse so sad, sadnesse so sweet.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Sadnesse all the while<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shee sits in such a throne as this,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can doe nought but smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor beleeves she Sadnesse is:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gladnesse it selfe would be more glad,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bee made soe sweetly sad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">There's no need at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That the balsom-sweating bough<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So coyly should let fall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His med'cinable teares; for now<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature hath learnt to' extract a deaw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More soueraign and sweet, from you.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Yet let the poore drops weep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Weeping is the ease of Woe):<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Softly let them creep,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sad that they are vanquish't so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, though to others no releife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Balsom may be for their own greife.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Golden though he be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Golden Tagus murmures though.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were his way by thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Content and quiet he would goe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soe much more rich would he esteem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy syluer, then his golden stream.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Well does the May that lyes<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Smiling in thy cheeks, confesse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The April in thine eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mutuall sweetnesse they expresse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No April ere lent kinder showres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor May return'd more faithfull flowres.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">O cheeks! Bedds of chast loues,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By your own showres seasonably dash't.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Eyes! Nests of milky doues,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In your own wells decently washt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wit of Loue! that thus could place<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fountain and garden in one face.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XVII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">O sweet contest! of woes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With loues; of teares with smiles disputing!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O fair and freindly foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each other kissing and confuting!<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While rain and sunshine, cheekes and eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close in kind contrarietyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XVIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">But can these fair flouds be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Freinds with the bosom-fires that fill thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can so great flames agree<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Æternal teares should thus distill thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O flouds! O fires! O suns! O showres!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mixt and made freinds by Loue's sweet powres.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'Twas his well-pointed dart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That digg'd these wells, and drest this wine;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And taught the wounded heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The way into these weeping eyn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain loues auant! bold hands forbear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lamb hath dipp't His white foot here.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">And now where'ere He strayes,<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Among the Galilean mountaines,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or more vnwellcome wayes;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's follow'd by two faithfull fountaines;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two walking baths, two weeping motions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Portable, and compendious oceans.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">O thou, thy Lord's fair store!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In thy so rich and rare expenses,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Euen when He show'd most poor<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He might prouoke the wealth of princes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What prince's wanton'st pride e'er could<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wash with syluer, wipe with gold?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Who is that King, but He<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who calls 't His crown, to be call'd thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That thus can boast to be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waited on by a wandring mine,<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voluntary mint, that strowes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm, syluer showres wher're He goes?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">O pretious prodigall!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair spend-thrift of thy-self! thy measure<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Mercilesse loue!) is all.<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="sidenote"><i>thesaurus</i>, Latin.</span> +<span class="i2">Euen to the last pearle in thy threasure: <br /></span> +<span class="i0">All places, times, and obiects be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy teares' sweet opportunity.<br /></span> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span></p></div></div> + + +<h4>XXIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Does the day-starre rise?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still thy teares doe fall and fall.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Does Day close his eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still the fountain weeps for all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Night or Day doe what they will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast thy task: thou weepest still.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Does thy song lull the air?<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy falling teares keep faithfull time.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Does thy sweet-breath'd praire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vp in clouds of incense climb?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still at each sigh, that is, each stop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bead, that is, a tear, does drop.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">At these thy weeping gates<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Watching their watry motion),<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each wingèd moment waits:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Takes his tear, and gets him gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thine ey's tinct enobled thus,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time layes him vp; he's pretious.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXVII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Time, as by thee He passes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Makes thy ever-watry eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His hower-glasses.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span><span class="i2">By them His steps He rectifies.<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sands He us'd, no longer please,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For His owne sands Hee'l use thy seas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXVIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Not, 'so long she liuèd,'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall thy tomb report of thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, 'so long she grieuèd:'<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus must we date thy memory.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Others by moments, months, and yeares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Measure their ages; thou, by teares.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXIX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">So doe perfumes expire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So sigh tormented sweets, opprest<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With proud vnpittying fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such teares the suffring rose, that's vext<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With vngentle flames, does shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweating in a too warm bed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Say, ye bright brothers,<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fugitiue sons of those fair eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your fruitfull mothers!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What make you here? what hopes can 'tice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You to be born? what cause can borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You from those nests of noble sorrow?<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Whither away so fast?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For sure the sluttish earth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your sweetnes cannot tast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor does the dust deserve your birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet, whither hast you then? O say<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why you trip so fast away?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">We goe not to seek<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The darlings of Aurora's bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The rose's modest cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor the violet's humble head.<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though the feild's eyes too Weepers be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because they want such teares as we.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Much lesse mean we to trace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The fortune of inferior gemmes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Preferr'd to some proud face,<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or pertch't vpon fear'd diadems:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown'd heads are toyes. We goe to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A worthy object, our Lord's feet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>With some shortcomings—superficial rather than substantive—'The +Weeper' is a lovely poem, and well deserves its +place of honour at the commencement of the 'Steps to the +Temple,' as in editions of 1646, 1648, and 1670. Accordingly +we have spent the utmost pains on our text of it, taking for +basis that of 1652. The various readings of the different editions +and of the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> are given below for the capable +student of the ultimate perfected form. I have not hesitated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> +to correct several misprints of the text of 1652 from the earlier +editions.</p> + +<p>The present poem appears very imperfectly in the first +edition (1646), consisting there of only twenty-three stanzas +instead of thirty-three (and so too in 1670 edition). The stanzas +that are not given therein are xvi. to xxix. (on the last see +onward). But on the other hand, exclusive of interesting variations, +the text of 1646 supplies two entire stanzas (xi. and +xxvii.) dropped out in the editions of 1648 and 1652, though +both are in 1670 edition and in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> Moreover I +accept the succession of the stanzas in 1646, so far as it goes, +confirmed as it is by the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> A third stanza in 1652 +edition (st. xi. there) as also in 1648 edition, I omit, as it belongs +self-revealingly to 'The Teare,' and interrupts the metaphor +in 'The Weeper.' Another stanza (xxix.) might seem to +demand excision also, as it is in part repeated in 'The Teare;' +but the new lines are dainty and would be a loss to 'The +Weeper.' Our text therefore is that of 1652, as before, with +restorations from 1646.</p> + +<p>The form of the stanza in the editions of 1646, 1648 and +1670 is thus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">_______________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i2">_______________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i4">__________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i2">_______________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i0">____________________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i0">____________________________________<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In 1652 from stanza xv. (there) to end,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">_______________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i2">_______________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i2">_______________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i2">_______________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i0">____________________________________<br /></span> +<span class="i0">____________________________________<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>but I have made all uniform, and agreeably to above of 1652.</p> + +<p>I would now submit variations, illustrations and corrections, +under the successive stanzas and lines.</p> + +<p>Couplet on the engraving of 'The Weeper.' In 1652 'Sainte' +is misprinted 'Sanite,' one of a number that remind us that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> +volume was printed in Paris, not London. In all the other editions +the heading 'Sainte Mary Magdalene' is omitted.</p> + +<p>St. i. line 2. 1646, 1648 and 1670 editions read 'silver-forded.' +Were it only for the reading of the text of 1652 'silver-footed,' +I should have been thankful for it; and I accept it +the more readily in that the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> from Crashaw's own +copy, also reads 'silver-footed.' The Homeric compound epithet +occurs in <span class="smcap">Herrick</span> contemporarily in his <i>Hesperides</i>,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'I send, I send here my supremest kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee, my <i>silver-footed</i> Thamasis'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>[that is, the river Thames]. <span class="smcap">William Browne</span> earlier, has +'faire <i>silver-footed</i> Thetis' (Works by Hazlitt, i. p. 188). Cf. +also the first line of the Elegy on Dr. Porter in our 'Airelles'—printed +for the first time by us: 'Stay silver-footed Came.'</p> + +<p>With reference to the long-accepted reading 'silver-<i>forded</i>,' +the epithet is loosely used not for in the state of being +forded, but for in a state to be forded, or fordable, and hence +shallow. The thought is not quite the same as that intended +to be conveyed by such a phrase as 'silver stream of Thames,' +but pictures the bright, pellucid, silvery whiteness of a clear +mountain rill. As silver-shallow—a meaning which, as has +been said, cannot be fairly obtained from it—can it alone be +taken as a double epithet. In any other sense the hyphen is +only an attempt to connect two qualities which refuse to be +connected. All difficulty and obscurity are removed by 'silver-footed.'</p> + +<p>St. iii. line 1. The. 'we'' may be = wee, as printed in 1646, +but in 1648 it is 'we are,' and in 1670 'we're,' and in the last, +line 2, 'they're.' The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> in line 2, reads 'they are +indeed' for 'indeed they are.'</p> + +<p>St. iv. line 4, 1646 and 1670 have 'crawles' and 'crawls' respectively, +for 'floates,' as in 1648 and our text. The <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span> also reads 'crawles.' In line 3, 1646 and 1670 'meet' +is inadvertently substituted for 'creep.'</p> + +<p>Lines 5 and 6, 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Heaven, of such faire floods as this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven the christall ocean is.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So too the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span>, save that for 'this' it has 'these.'</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span></p> + +<p>St. v. line 2. 'Brisk' is = active, nimble. So—and something +more—<span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>: 'he made me mad, to see him shine +so <i>brisk</i>' (1 Henry IV. 3).</p> + +<p>Line 3. 1646, 1670 and <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> read 'soft' for 'sacred' +of 1652 and 1648.</p> + +<p>Line 6, 'Breakfast.' See our Essay on this and similar +homely words, with parallels. 1648 reads 'his' for '<i>this</i> breakfast.'</p> + +<p>St. vi. line 4, 'violls' = 'phials' or small bottles. The reading +in 1646 and 1670 is 'Angels with their <i>bottles</i> come.' So +also in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>St. vii. line 4. 'Nuzzeld' = nestled or nourished. In quaint +old <span class="smcap">Dr. Worship's</span> Sermons, we have 'dew <i>cruzzle</i> on his cheek' +(p. 91).</p> + +<p>Lines 1 and 3, 'deaw' = 'dew.' This was the contemporary +spelling, as it was long before in <span class="smcap">Sir John Davies</span>, the <span class="smcap">Fletchers</span> +and others in our Fuller Worthies' Library, <i>s.v.</i></p> + +<p>Lines 5 and 6. 1646, 1670 and <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Much rather would it tremble heere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave them both to bee thy teare.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>1648 is as our text (1652).</p> + +<p>St. ix. A hasty reader may judge this stanza to have been +displaced by the xith, but a closer examination reveals a new +vein (so-to-say) of the thought. It is characteristic of Crashaw +to give a first-sketch, and afterwards fill in other details +to complete the scene or portraiture.</p> + +<p>St. xi. Restored from 1646.</p> + +<p>St. xii. line 1. 1646, 1648 and 1670 read 'There is.'</p> + +<p>Line 4, '<i>med'cinable</i> teares.' So <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> (nearly): +'their <i>medicinal</i> gum' (Othello, v. 2).</p> + +<p>St. xiii. line 2. 1646 and 1670 unhappily misprint 'case;' +and <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> passed the deplorable blunder and perpetuated it.</p> + +<p>Line 5. Our text (1652) misprints 'draw' for 'deaw' = dew, +as before.</p> + +<p>Line 6. 1646 and 1670 read 'May balsame.'</p> + +<p>St. xiv. line 3. 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Might he flow from thee.'<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span></div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> misses the rhythmical play in the first and second +'though,' and punctuates the second so as to read with next +line. I make a full-stop as in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>Line 4, ib. read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Content and quiet would he goe.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>Line 5, ib. read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Richer far does he esteeme.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>St. xv. lines 5 and 6, ib. read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'No April e're lent softer showres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor May returned fairer flowers.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>'Faithful' looks deeper: but the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> agrees with '46 +and '70.</p> + +<p>St. xvii. line 2, in 1648 misreads</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'With loves and tears, and smils disputing.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>, without the slightest authority, seeing not even in +1670 are the readings found, has thus printed lines 2 and 4, +'With loves, of tears <i>with smiles disporting</i>' ... 'Each other +kissing and <i>comforting</i>'!!</p> + +<p>St. xviii. line 2 in 1648 misreads</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Friends with the balsome fires that fill thee.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The 'balsome' is an evident misprint, but 'thee' is preferable +to 'fill you' of our text (1652), and hence I have adopted it.</p> + +<p>Line 3 in 1648 reads</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Cause great flames agree.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>St. xix. line 3, 1648, reads 'that' for 'the.'</p> + +<p>Line 4, ib. 'those' for 'these.'</p> + +<p>Line 6. cf. Revelations xiv. 5, 'These are they which follow +the Lamb whithersoever He goeth.'</p> + +<p>St. xxi. line 6. 'wipe with gold,' refers to Mary Magdalene's +golden tresses, as also in st. xxii. 'a voluntary mint.'</p> + +<p>Line 4. 'prouoke' = challenge.</p> + +<p>St. xxii. line 2. Curiously enough, 1648 edition leaves a +blank where we read 'calls 't' as in our text (1652). <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> +prints 'call'st,' but that makes nonsense. It is calls't as = calls +it. So too the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> Probably the copy for 1648 was +illegible.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span></p> + +<p>St. xxiv. line 1. 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Does the Night arise?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Line 2. Our text (1652) misprints 'starres' for 'teares' of +1646, 1648 and 1670.</p> + +<p>Line 3. 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Does Night loose her eyes?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> reads line 139 'Does the Night arise?' and +line 141, 'Does Niget loose her eyes?'</p> + +<p>St. xxv. line 2. 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thy teares' just cadence still keeps time.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>Line 3. Our text (1652) misprints 'paire' for 'praire.' +'Sweet-breath'd' should probably be pronounced as the adjectival +of the substantive, not as the participle of the verb.</p> + +<p>Line 6. 1646, 1648 and 1670 read 'doth' for 'does.'</p> + +<p>St. xxvi. lines 1 and 2. 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thus dost thou melt the yeare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a weeping motion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each minute waiteth heere.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>St. xxvii. Restored from 1646 edition. The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> +in line 168 miswrites 'teares.'</p> + +<p>St. xxviii. line 5. reads in 1646 and 1670</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Others by dayes, by monthes, by yeares.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So also the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span>, wherein this st. follows our st. xv.</p> + +<p>St. xxix. line 3. Our text (1652) misprints 'fires' for 'fire' +of 1648.</p> + +<p>St. xxx. line 1. Our text (1652) misprints 'Say the bright +brothers.' 1646 and 1670 read 'Say watry Brothers.' So <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span> 1648 gives 'ye,' which I have adopted. The misprint +of 'the' in 1652 originated doubtless in the printer's reading +'y<sup>e</sup>,' the usual mode of writing 'the.'</p> + +<p>Line 2. 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Yee simpering ...'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>Line 3, ib. 'fertile' for 'fruitfull.'</p> + +<p>Line 4, ib. 'What hath our world that can entice.' So the +<span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span></span></p> + +<p>Lines 5 and 6, ib.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">'what is't can borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You from her eyes, swolne wombes of sorrow.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>St. xxxi. line 2. 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O whither? for the <i>sluttish</i> Earth:'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and I accept 'sluttish' for 'sordid,' which is also confirmed by +<span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>Line 4, ib. 'your' for 'their;' and as this is also the reading +of 1648 and <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span>, I have accepted it.</p> + +<p>Line 5. 1646 and 1670 omit 'Sweet.'</p> + +<p>Line 6, ib. read 'yee' for 'you.'</p> + +<p>St. xxxii. and xxxiii. In 1646 and 1670 these two stanzas +are thrown into one, viz. 23 (there), which consists of the first +four lines of xxxii. and the two closing lines of xxxiii. as follows,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'No such thing; we goe to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A worthier object, our Lords feet.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> also, and reads as last line 'A worthy object, +our Lord Jesus feet.' On the closing lines of st. xxxii. cf. +Sospetto d'Herode, st. xlviii.</p> + +<p>I have not thought it needful, either in these Notes or hereafter, +to record the somewhat arbitrary variations of mere +orthography in the different editions, as 'haile' for 'hail,' 'syluer' +for 'silver,' 'hee' for 'he,' and the like. But I trust it will +be found that no different wording has escaped record. G.</p> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_b.png" width="200" height="78" alt="Decoration B" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="SANCTA_MARIA_DOLORVM_OR_THE" id="SANCTA_MARIA_DOLORVM_OR_THE"></a>SANCTA MARIA DOLORVM, OR THE +MOTHER OF SORROWS</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>A patheticall Descant vpon the deuout Plainsong of +Stabat Mater Dolorosa.</i><a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></p> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In shade of Death's sad tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stood dolefull shee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah she! now by none other<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Name to be known, alas, but Sorrow's Mother.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before her eyes,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her's, and the whole World's ioyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hanging all torn she sees; and in His woes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And paines, her pangs and throes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each wound of His, from euery part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All, more at home in her one heart.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span></p> + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">What kind of marble, than,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is that cold man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who can look on and see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor keep such noble sorrowes company?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sure eu'en from you<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">(My flints) some drops are due,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see so many unkind swords contest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So fast for one soft brest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While with a faithfull, mutuall floud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her eyes bleed teares, His wounds weep blood.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O costly intercourse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of deaths, and worse—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Diuided loues. While Son and mother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discourse alternate wounds to one another,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quick deaths that grow<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gather, as they come and goe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His nailes write swords in her, which soon her heart<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Payes back, with more then their own smart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her swords, still growing with His pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn speares, and straight come home again.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">She sees her Son, her God,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bow with a load<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of borrow'd sins; and swimme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In woes that were not made for Him.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah! hard command<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of loue! Here must she stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charg'd to look on, and with a stedfast ey<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See her life dy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leauing her only so much breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As serues to keep aliue her death.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O mother turtle-doue!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soft sourse of loue!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That these dry lidds might borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somthing from thy full seas of sorrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O in that brest<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of thine (the noblest nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both of Loue's fires and flouds) might I recline<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This hard, cold heart of mine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chill lump would relent, and proue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft subject for the seige of Loue.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O teach those wounds to bleed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In me; me, so to read<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This book of loues, thus writ<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In lines of death, my life may coppy it<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With loyall cares.<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O let me, here, claim shares!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yeild somthing in thy sad prærogatiue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Great queen of greifes), and giue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me, too, my teares; who, though all stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think much that thou shouldst mourn alone.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Yea, let my life and me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fix here with thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And at the humble foot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this fair tree, take our eternall root.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That so we may<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">At least be in Loue's way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in these chast warres, while the wing'd wounds flee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So fast 'twixt Him and thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My brest may catch the kisse of some kind dart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though as at second hand, from either heart.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O you, your own best darts,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dear, dolefull hearts!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hail! and strike home, and make me see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wounded bosomes their own weapons be.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come wounds! come darts!<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nail'd hands! and peircèd hearts!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come your whole selues, Sorrow's great Son and mother!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor grudge a yonger brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of greifes his portion, who (had all their due)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One single wound should not haue left for you.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>IX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Shall I, sett there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So deep a share<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Dear wounds), and onely now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sorrows draw no diuidend with you?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O be more wise,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">If not more soft, mine eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flow, tardy founts! and into decent showres<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dissolue my dayes and howres.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if thou yet (faint soul!) desert<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bleed with Him, fail not to weep with her.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>X.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Rich queen, lend some releife;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At least an almes of greif<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To' a heart who by sad right of sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could proue the whole summe (too sure) due to him.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By all those stings<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Loue, sweet-bitter things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which these torn hands transcrib'd on thy true heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O teach mine too the art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To study Him so, till we mix<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wounds, and become one crucifix.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O let me suck the wine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So long of this chast Vine,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till drunk of the dear wounds, I be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lost thing to the world, as it to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O faithfull friend<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of me and of my end!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fold vp my life in loue; and lay't beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My dear Lord's vitall death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, heart, thy hope's whole plea! her pretious breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pour'd out in prayrs for thee; thy Lord's in death.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>St. i. line 10. In 1648 the reading is</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Are more at home in her Owne heart.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In 1670. 'All, more at home in her own heart.' I think 'all' +and 'one' of our text (1652) preferable. There is a world of +pathos in the latter. Cf. st. ii. line 8.</p> + +<p>St. ii. line 1. On the change of orthography for rhyme, see +our <span class="smcap">Phineas Fletcher</span>, vol. ii. 206; and our <span class="smcap">Lord Brooke</span>, +<span class="smcap">Vaughan</span>, &c. &c., show 'then' and 'than' used as in Crashaw.</p> + +<p>St. vi. line 3. In 1648 the reading is 'love;' 1670 as our +text (1652). The plural includes the twofold love of Son and +mother.</p> + +<p>Line 7, ib. 'to' for 'in.'</p> + +<p>Line 9, ib. 'Oh give' at commencement. 1670, 'to' for +'too.'</p> + +<p>St. vii. and viii. These two stanzas do not appear in 1648 +edition, but appear in 1670.</p> + +<p>St. vii. line 4. By 'tree' the Cross is meant. Cf. st. i. line 1.</p> + +<p>St. ix. line 1. 1648 edition supplies the two words required +by the measure of the other stanzas, 'in sins.' They are dropped +inadvertently in 1652 and 1670. Turnbull failed as usual to +detect the omission.</p> + +<p>Line 4. 1648 spells 'Divident.'</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span></p> + +<p>Lines 5 and 6. I have accepted correction of our text (1652) +from 1648 edition, in line 6, of 'If' for 'Is,' which is also the +reading of 1670. 1648 substitutes 'just' for 'soft;' but 1670 +does not adopt it, nor can I.</p> + +<p>St. x. line 1. 1648 reads 'Lend, O lend some reliefe.'</p> + +<p>Line 9 reads 'To studie thee so.'</p> + +<p>St. xi. line 3, ib. reads 'thy' for 'the.'</p> + +<p>Line 8, ib. reads 'Thy deare lost vitall death.'</p> + +<p>Line 10. I have adopted from 1648 'in thy Lord's death' +for 'thy lord's in death' of our text (1652).</p> + +<p>Turnbull has some sad misprints in this poem: <i>e.g.</i> st. ii. +line 4, 'sorrow's' for 'sorrows;' st. iii. line 2, 'death's' for +'deaths;' st. vi. line 9, 'Me to' for 'Me, too;' st. x. line 2, 'in' +for 'an,' and line 3, 'a' mis-inserted before 'sad.' Except in +the 'Me to' of st. vi., he had not even the poor excuse of following +the text of 1670. G.</p> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="THE_TEARE" id="THE_TEARE"></a>THE TEARE.<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></h2> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What bright-soft thing is this,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet Mary, thy faire eyes' expence?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A moist sparke it is,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A watry diamond; from whence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very tearme, I think, was found,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The water of a diamond.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span></p> + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O, 'tis not a teare:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis a star about to dropp<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From thine eye, its spheare;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sun will stoope and take it up:<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud will his sister be, to weare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This thine eyes' iewell in her eare.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O, 'tis a teare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too true a teare; for no sad eyne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How sad so 'ere,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Raine so true a teare, as thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each drop leaving a place so deare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weeps for it self; is its owne teare.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Such a pearle as this is,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slipt from Aurora's dewy brest—<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The rose-bud's sweet lipp kisses;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And such the rose it self that's vext<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ungentle flames, does shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweating in a too warm bed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Such the maiden gem,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the purpling vine put on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Peeps from her parent stem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And blushes on the bridegroom sun;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The watry blossome of thy eyne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ripe, will make the richer wine.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Faire drop, why quak'st thou so?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Cause thou streight must lay thy head<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the dust? O, no!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dust shall never be thy bed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pillow for thee will I bring,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stuft with downe of angel's wing.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus carried up on high<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(For to Heaven thou must goe),<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweetly shalt thou lye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in soft slumbers bath thy woe,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the singing orbes awake thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one of their bright chorus make thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">There thy selfe shalt bee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An eye, but not a weeping one;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet I doubt of thee,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whether th' had'st rather there have shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An eye of heaven; or still shine here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the heaven of Marie's eye, a <span class="smcap">TEARE</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>It is to be re-noted that st. v. is identical in all save 'watry' +for 'bridegroom' with st. xi. of 'The Weeper' as given in text +of 1652, and that st. iv. has two lines from st. xxix. of the same +poem. Neither of these stanzas appear in 'The Weeper' of +1646. As stated in relative foot-note, I have withdrawn the +former from 'The Weeper.' We may be sure it was inadvertently +inserted in 1652, seeing that the very next stanza closes +with the same word 'wine' as in it: a fault which our Poet +never could have passed. It is to be noticed too that 'The +Teare' did not appear in the edition of 1652. By transferring +the stanza to 'The Teare' as in 1646, 1648 and 1670 editions, +a blemish is removed from 'The Weeper,' while in 'The Teare' +it is a vivid addition. The 'such' of line 1 links it naturally +on to st. iv. with its 'such.'</p> + +<p>Our text follows that of 1648 except in st. v. line 4, where +I adopt the reading of 1652 in 'The Weeper' (there st. xi.) of +'bridegroom' (misprinted 'bridegrooms') for 'watry,' and that +I correct in st. vii. line 6, the misprint 'the' for 'thee,'—the +latter being found in 1646 and 1670. With reference to st. v. +again, in line 5 in 'The Weeper' of 1648 the reading is 'balsome' +for 'blossom.' The 'ripe' of line 6 settles (I think) that +'blossom' is the right word, as the ripe blossom is = the grape, +to the rich lucent-white drops of which the Weeper's tears are +likened. 'Balsome' doesn't make wine. I have adopted from +st. xi. of 'The Weeper' of 1652 the reading 'the purpling vine' +for 'the wanton Spring' of 1646, 1648 and 1670. The <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span> in st. i. line 2, reads 'expends' for 'expence;' st. iv. line 4, +'that's' for 'when;' st. v. line 4, 'manly sunne' for 'bridegroome,' +and line 5, 'thine' for 'thy;' st. viii. line 6, 'I' th'' +for 'In th'.' G.</p> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_h.png" width="200" height="74" alt="Decoration H" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span></p> + +<p class="p4"> </p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_OFFICE_OF_THE_HOLY_CROSSE" id="THE_OFFICE_OF_THE_HOLY_CROSSE"></a>THE OFFICE OF THE HOLY CROSSE.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></h2> + + +<blockquote><p>Tradidit semetipsum pro nobis oblationem et hostiam Deo in odorem +suauitatis. <i>Ad Ephe.</i> v. 2.</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="r10" /> + + +<h3>THE HOWRES.</h3> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">For the Hovr of Matines.</span></h4> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord, by Thy sweet and sailing sign!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsory.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Defend us from our foes and Thine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Thou shalt open my lippes, O Lord.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> And my mouth shall shew forth Thy prayse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> O God, make speed to saue me.<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> O Lord, make hast to help me.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glory be to the <span class="smcap">Father</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">and to the <span class="smcap">Son</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">and to the H[oly] <span class="smcap">Ghost</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As it was in the beginning, is now, and euer<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">shall be, world without end. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wakefull Matines hast to sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unknown sorrows of our King:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Father's Word and Wisdom, made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man for man, by man's betraid;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World's price sett to sale, and by the bold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merchants of Death and Sin, is bought and sold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of His best freinds (yea of Himself) forsaken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By His worst foes (because He would) beseig'd and taken.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Antiphona.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">All hail, fair tree,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose fruit we be!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What song shall raise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy seemly praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who broughtst to light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life out of death, Day out of Night!<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lo, we adore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread <span class="smcap">Lamb</span>! and bow thus low before Thee:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span></div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Cause, by the couenant of Thy crosse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast sau'd at once the whole World's losse.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Prayer.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Lord <span class="smcap">Iesv-Christ</span>, Son of the liuing God!<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest; to Thy<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Church, peace and concord; to vs sinners, life and<br /></span> +<span class="i0">glory euerlasting. Who liuest and reignest with<br /></span> +<span class="i0">the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost, one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God, world without end. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">For the Hour of Prime.</span></h4> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord, by Thy sweet and sailing sign!<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Defend vs from our foes and Thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> O God, make speed to save me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> O Lord, make hast to help me.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Glory be to, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> As it was in the, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The early Prime blushes to say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She could not rise so soon, as they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call'd Pilat vp; to try if he<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could lend them any cruelty.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their hands with lashes arm'd, their toungs with lyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loathsom spittle, blott those beauteous eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blissfull springs of ioy; from whose all-chearing ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fair starrs fill their wakefull fires, the sun himself drinks day. <span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Antiphona.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Victorious sign<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That now dost shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Transcrib'd aboue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the land of light and loue;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O let vs twine<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our rootes with thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That we may rise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vpon thy wings, and reach the skyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Lo, we adore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dread Lamb! and fall<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thus low before Thee.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span></div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast sau'd at once the whole World's losse.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Prayer.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O <span class="smcap">Lord Iesv-Christ</span>, Son of the liuing God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest; to<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Church, peace and concord; to vs sinners,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">life and glory euerlasting. Who liuest and reignest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">with the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">one God, world without end. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Third.</span></h4> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign,<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Defend vs from our foes and Thine.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> O God, make speed to save me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> O Lord, make hast to help me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Glory be to, &c.<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> As it was in the, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The third hour's deafen'd with the cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of crucify Him, crucify.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So goes the vote (nor ask them, why?),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liue Barabbas! and let God dy.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But there is witt in wrath, and they will try<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hail more cruell then their crucify.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For while in sport He weares a spitefull crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The serious showres along His decent Face run sadly down.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Antiphona.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Christ when He dy'd<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Deceiu'd the Crosse;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And on Death's side<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Threw all the losse.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The captiue World awak't and found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The prisoners loose, the iaylor bound.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Lo, we adore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dread <span class="smcap">Lamb</span>, and fall<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thus low before Thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast sau'd at once the whole World's losse.<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span></div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Prayer.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Lord <span class="smcap">Iesv-Christ</span>, Son of the liuing God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy;<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest; to<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Church, peace and concord; to vs sinners,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">life and glory everlasting. Who liuest and reignest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">with the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">one God, world without end. Amen.<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Sixt.</span></h4> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Defend vs from our foes and Thine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> O God, make speed to save me!<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> O Lord, make hast to help me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Glory be to, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> As it was in the, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now is the noon of Sorrow's night:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span><span class="i0">High in His patience, as their spite,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, the faint Lamb, with weary limb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beares that huge tree which must bear Him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fatall plant, so great of fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fruit of sorrow and of shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall swell with both, for Him, and mix<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All woes into one crucifix.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is tortur'd thirst itselfe too sweet a cup?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gall, and more bitter mocks, shall make it vp.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are nailes, blunt pens of superficiall smart?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Contempt and scorn can send sure wounds to search the inmost heart.<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Antiphona.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O deare and sweet dispute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt Death's and Loue's farr different fruit!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Different as farr<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As antidotes and poysons are.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By that first fatall tree<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Both life and liberty<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were sold and slain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By this they both look vp, and liue again.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lo, we adore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread Lamb! and bow thus low before Thee.<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou hast sau'd the World from certain losse.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Prayer.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Lord <span class="smcap">Iesv-Christ</span>, Son of the liuing God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest; to<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Church, peace and concord; to vs sinners,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">life and glory euerlasting. Who liuest and reignest<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">with the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">one God, world without end. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Ninth.</span></h4> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign,<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Defend vs from our foes and Thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord.<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> O God, make speed to save me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> O Lord, make hast to help me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>V.</i> Glory be to, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>R.</i> As it was in the, &c.<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ninth with awfull horror hearkened to those groanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which taught attention eu'n to rocks and stones.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear, Father, hear! Thy Lamb (at last) complaines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some more painfull thing then all His paines.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then bowes His all-obedient head, and dyes<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His own lou's and our sins' <span class="smcap">GREAT SACRIFICE</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun saw that, and would haue seen no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The center shook: her vselesse veil th' inglorious Temple tore.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Antiphona.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O strange, mysterious strife<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of open Death and hidden Life!<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When on the crosse my King did bleed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life seem'd to dy, Death dy'd indeed.<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Lo, we adore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dread Lamb! and fall<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thus low before Thee.<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast sau'd at once the whole World's losse.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Prayer.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O Lord Iesv-Christ, Son of the liuing God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">interpose, I pray Thee, Thine Own pretious death,<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy crosse and passion, betwixt my soul and Thy<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">iudgment, now and in the hour of my death. And<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vouchsafe to graunt vnto me Thy grace and mercy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">vnto all quick and dead, remission and rest; to<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Church, peace and concord; to vs sinners,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">life and glory euerlasting. Who liuest and reignest<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">with the Father, in the vnity of the Holy Ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">one God, world without end. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Evensong.</span></h4> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Defend vs from our foes and Thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>V.</i> Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord!<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>R.</i> And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>V.</i> O God, make speed to save me!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>R.</i> O Lord, make hast to help me!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>V.</i> Glory be to, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>R.</i> As it was in the, &c.<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But there were rocks would not relent at this:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, for their own hearts, they rend His;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their deadly hate liues still, and hath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wild reserve of wanton wrath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Superfluous spear! But there's a heart stands by<span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will look no wounds be lost, no deaths shall dy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gather now thy Greif's ripe fruit, great mother-maid!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sitt thee down, and sing thine eu'nsong in the sad tree's shade.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Antiphona.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O sad, sweet tree!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wofull and ioyfull we<span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both weep and sing in shade of thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the dear nailes did lock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And graft into thy gracious stock<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hope, the health,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The worth, the wealth<span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the ransom'd World, thou hadst the power<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(In that propitious hour)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To poise each pretious limb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And proue how light the World was, when it weighd with Him.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wide maist thou spred<span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine armes, and with thy bright and blissfull head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'relook all Libanus. Thy lofty crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King Himself is, thou His humble throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where yeilding and yet conquering He<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prou'd a new path of patient victory:<span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When wondring Death by death was slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our Captiuity His captiue ta'ne.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span></div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lo, we adore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread <span class="smcap">Lamb</span>! and bow thus low before Thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Cause by the couenant of Thy crosse<span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast sau'd the World from certain losse.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Prayer.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O Lord Iesv-Christ, Son of the liuing, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Compline.</span></h4> + + +<h5><i>The Versicle.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Lord, by Thy sweet and sauing sign!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Responsor.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Defend vs from our foes and Thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>V.</i> Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord!<span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>R.</i> And my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>V.</i> O God, make speed to save me!<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>R.</i> O Lord, make hast to help me!<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>V.</i> Glory be to, &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>R.</i> As it was in the, &c.<span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Complin hour comes last, to call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vs to our own lives' funerall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah hartlesse task! yet Hope takes head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And liues in Him that here lyes dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run, Mary, run! Bring hither all the blest<span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arabia, for thy royall phœnix' nest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pour on thy noblest sweets, which, when they touch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This sweeter body, shall indeed be such.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But must Thy bed, Lord, be a borrow'd graue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lend'st to all things all the life they haue.<span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O rather vse this heart, thus farr a fitter stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Cause, though a hard and cold one, yet it is Thine own. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h5><i>The Antiphona.</i></h5> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O saue vs then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mercyfull King of men!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since Thou wouldst needs be thus<span class="linenum">255</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Saviour, and at such a rate, for vs;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saue vs, O saue vs, Lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We now will own no shorter wish, nor name a narrower word;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy blood bids vs be bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy wounds giue vs fair hold,<span class="linenum">260</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy sorrows chide our shame:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy crosse, Thy nature, and Thy name<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aduance our claim,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cry with one accord<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saue them, O saue them, Lord!<span class="linenum">265</span><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Recommendation.</span><a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These Houres, and that which houers o're my end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into Thy hands and hart, Lord, I commend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Take both to Thine account, that I and mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that hour, and in these, may be all Thine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That as I dedicate my deuoutest breath<span class="linenum">270</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make a kind of life for my Lord's death,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So from His liuing and life-giuing death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My dying life may draw a new and neuer fleeting breath.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In the original edition of this composition, as <i>supra</i> (1648), +it is entitled simply 'Vpon our B[lessed] Saviour's Passion.' +What in our text (1652) constitute the Hymns, were originally +numbered as seven stanzas. A few various readings from 1648 +will be found below. Our text is given in full in 1670 edition, +but not very accurately.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Various readings of the Hymns in 1648 'Steps.'</i></p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">I.</span> Line 1. 'The wakefull dawning hast's to sing.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">" 2. The allusion is to the petition in the old Litanies, +'By all Thine <i>unknown</i> sorrows, good Lord, deliver us.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">" 8. 'betray'd' for 'beseigd:' the former perhaps superior.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">II.</span> " 1. 'The early Morne.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">" 2. 'It' for 'she.'</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">III.</span> " 5. 'ther's' for 'there is.'<br /> +<span class="smcap">IV.</span> " 6. 'The fruit' instead of 'for'—a misprint.<br /> +<span class="smcap">V.</span> " 6. 'our great sins' sacrifice.'<br /> +<span class="smcap">VII.</span> " 1. 'The Nightening houre'—a curious coinage.<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span></p> +<p>In the 'Prayer,' 'unto all quick and dead' is dropped, and +reads 'the,' not 'Thy,' Church. In line 55 Turnbull reads +'weakful,' and, line 243, 'heed' for 'head,'—two of a number +of provoking blunders in his text. G.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="VEXILLA_REGIS" id="VEXILLA_REGIS"></a>VEXILLA REGIS:</h2> + +<p class="center">THE HYMN OF THE HOLY CROSSE.<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p> + + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Look vp, languisting soul! Lo, where the fair<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Badge of thy faith calls back thy care,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And biddes thee ne're forget<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy life is one long debt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of loue, to Him, Who on this painfull tree<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paid back the flesh He took for thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lo, how the streames of life, from that full nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of loues, Thy Lord's too liberall brest,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Flow in an amorous floud<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of water wedding blood.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these He wash't thy stain, transferred thy smart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And took it home to His own heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But though great Love, greedy of such sad gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vsurpt the portion of thy pain,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And from the nailes and spear<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Turn'd the steel point of fear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their vse is chang'd, not lost; and now they moue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not stings of wrath, but wounds of loue.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Tall tree of life! thy truth makes good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What was till now ne're understood,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though the prophetick king<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Struck lowd his faithfull string:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was thy wood he meant should make the throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a more than Salomon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Large throne of Loue! royally spred<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With purple of too rich a red:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy crime is too much duty;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy burthen, too much beauty;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glorious or greiuous more? thus to make good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy costly excellence with thy King's own blood.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Euen ballance of both worlds! our world of sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that of grace, Heaun-way'd in Him:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Vs with our price thou weighed'st;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Our price for vs thou payed'st,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon as the right-hand scale reioyc't to proue<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How much Death weigh'd more light then Loue.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hail, our alone hope! let thy fair head shoot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aloft, and fill the nations with thy noble fruit:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The while our hearts and we<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thus graft our selues on thee,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grow thou and they. And be thy fair increase<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sinner's pardon and the iust man's peace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Liue, O for euer liue and reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lamb Whom His own loue hath slain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let Thy lost sheep liue to inherit<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That kingdom which this Crosse did merit. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>These variations &c. as between 1648 and 1652, deserve +record:</p> + +<p>St. i. line 1. 'Languishing,' which is the reading in 1648.</p> + +<p>Ib. line 2. Here, and in v. line 1, I have added 'e' to +'badg' and 'larg' respectively from 1648.</p> + +<p>St. vi. line 2. Our text (1652) corrects a manifest blunder +of 1648, which reads 'wag'd' for 'way'd' = weighed. In 1648, +lines 3-4 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Both with one price were weighed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both with one price were paid.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>St. vii. appeared for the first time in our text (1652). In +the closing four lines, line 4, 1648, reads noticeably</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'That Kingdome which Thy blessed death did merit.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The allusion in st. iv. is to the old reading of Psalm xcvi. +10: 'Tell it among the heathen that the Lord reigneth from +<i>the tree</i>.' The reference to Solomon points to the mediæval +mystical interpretations of Canticles iii. 9-10.</p> + +<p>I place 'Vexilla Regis' immediately after the 'Office of the +Holy Crosse,' as really belonging to it, and not to be separated +as in 1648. G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_LORD_SILENCES_HIS_QUESTIONERS" id="THE_LORD_SILENCES_HIS_QUESTIONERS"></a>[THE LORD SILENCES HIS QUESTIONERS.]<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></h2> + + +<blockquote><p class="center">'Neither durst any man from that day aske Him any more questions.'</p></blockquote> + +<p class="right"> +<i>St. Matthew</i> xxii.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mid'st all the darke and knotty snares,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black wit or malice can, or dares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy glorious wisedome breaks the nets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And treds with uncontroulèd steps;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy quell'd foes are not onely now<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy triumphs, but Thy trophies too:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They both at once Thy conquests bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Thy conquests' memorie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stony amazement makes them stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wayting on Thy victorious hand,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like statues fixèd to the fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Thy renoune, and their own shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if they onely meant to breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be the life of their own death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas time to hold their peace, when they<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had ne're another word to say;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet is their silence unto Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The full sound of Thy victorie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their silence speaks aloud, and is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy well pronounc'd panegyris.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While they speak nothing, they speak all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their share, in Thy memoriall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While they speake nothing, they proclame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee, with the shrillest trump of Fame.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hold their peace is all the wayes<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">These wretches have to speak Thy praise.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h2><a name="OUR_BLESSED_LORD_IN_HIS_CIRCUMCISION" id="OUR_BLESSED_LORD_IN_HIS_CIRCUMCISION"></a>OUR B[LESSED] LORD IN HIS CIRCUMCISION +TO HIS FATHER.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">1. To Thee these first-fruits of My growing death<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For what else is My life?), lo! I bequeath:<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">2. Tast this, and as Thou lik'st this lesser flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expect a sea; My heart shall make it good.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">3. Thy wrath that wades here now, e're long shall swim,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The floodgate shall be set wide ope for Him.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">4. Then let Him drinke, and drinke, and doe His worst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To drowne the wantonnesse of His wild thirst.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">5. Now's but the nonage of My paines, My feares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are yett but hopes, weake as my infant yeares.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">6. The day of My darke woe is yet but morne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My teares but tender, and My death new-borne.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">7. Yet may these unfledg'd griefes give fate some guesse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These cradle-torments have their towardnesse.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">8. These purple buds of blooming death may bee,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erst the full stature of a fatall tree.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">9. And till My riper woes to age are come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This knife may be the speare's præludium.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_d.png" width="200" height="90" alt="Decoration D" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span></p> + + + + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + +<h2><a name="ON_THE_WOUNDS_OF_OUR_CRUCIFIED" id="ON_THE_WOUNDS_OF_OUR_CRUCIFIED"></a>ON THE WOUNDS OF OUR CRUCIFIED +LORD.<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, these wakefull wounds of Thine!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are they mouthes? or are they eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be they mouthes, or be they eyne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each bleeding part some one supplies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo! a mouth! whose full-bloom'd lips<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">At too dear a rate are roses:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! a blood-shot eye! that weeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And many a cruell teare discloses.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, thou that on this foot hast laid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Many a kisse, and many a teare;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now thou shalt have all repaid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What soe're thy charges were.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This foot hath got a mouth and lips<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pay the sweet summe of thy kisses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pay thy teares, an eye that weeps,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Instead of teares, such gems as this is.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The difference onely this appeares,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Nor can the change offend)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The debt is paid in ruby-teares<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which thou in pearles did'st lend.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="VPON_THE_BLEEDING_CRUCIFIX_A_SONG" id="VPON_THE_BLEEDING_CRUCIFIX_A_SONG"></a>VPON THE BLEEDING CRUCIFIX: A SONG.<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a></h2> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap">Iiesu</span>, no more! It is full tide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Thy head and from Thy feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Thy hands and from Thy side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the purple riuers meet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What need Thy fair head bear a part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In showres, as if Thine eyes had none?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What need they help to drown Thy heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That striues in torrents of it's own?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Water'd by the showres they bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thornes that Thy blest browe encloses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(A cruell and a costly spring)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conceiue proud hopes of proving roses.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span></p> + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thy restlesse feet now cannot goe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For vs and our eternall good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As they were euer wont. What though?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They swimme, alas! in their own floud.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thy hand to giue Thou canst not lift;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet will Thy hand still giuing be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It giues, but O itself's the gift:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It giues though bound; though bound 'tis free.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But O Thy side, Thy deep-digg'd side!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hath a double Nilus going:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor euer was the Pharian tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half so fruitfull, half so flowing.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">No hair so small, but payes his riuer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To this Red Sea of Thy blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their little channells can deliuer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somthing to the generall floud.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But while I speak, whither are run<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the riuers nam'd before?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I counted wrong: there is but one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But O that one is one all ore.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>IX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Rain-swoln riuers may rise proud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bent all to drown and overflow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when indeed all's ouerflow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They themselues are drownèd too.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>X.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">This Thy blood's deluge (a dire chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Lord, to Thee) to vs is found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A deluge of deliuerance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A deluge least we should be drown'd. <i>lest</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1">N'ere wast Thou in a sense so sadly true,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The well of liuing waters, Lord, till now.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The title in 1646 is 'On the bleeding wounds of our crucified +Lord:' in 1648 has 'body' for 'wounds:' in 1670 as 1646. I +record these variations, &c.:</p> + +<p>St. i. lines 2 and 3, in 1646 and 1670 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'From Thy hands and from Thy feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Thy head and from Thy side.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></p> + +<p>St. ii. In 1646 and 1670 this stanza is the 5th, and in line 2 +has 'teares' for 'showres.'</p> + +<p>St. iii. This stanza, by some strange oversight, is wholly +dropped in 1652. St. iii. not in <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span>, and our st. ii. is +the last. On one of the fly-leaves of the copy of 1646 edition +in Trinity College, Cambridge, is the following contemporary +<span class="smcap">ms.</span> epigram, which embodies the sentiment of the stanza:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">'<i>In caput Xti spinis coronatum.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cerno Caput si Christe tuum mihi vertitur omne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In spinis illud, quod fuit ante rosa.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Turnbull gives the stanza, but misplaces it after our st. vi., +overlooking that our st. ii. is in 1646 edition st. v.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span></p> + +<p>St. iv. line 1: in 1646 and 1670 'they' for 'now.'</p> + +<p>Line 3, ib. 'as they are wont'—evident inadvertence, as +'ever' is required by the measure.</p> + +<p>Line 4, ib. 'blood' for 'floud:' so also in 1648.</p> + +<p>St. v. line 1, ib. 'hand' for 'hands:' 'hand' in 1648, and in +<span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span>: adopted. Line 4, 'dropps' in <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> +for 'gives.'</p> + +<p>St. vi. line 3. Our text (1652) prints 'pharian,' the Paris +printer spelling (and mis-spelling) without comprehending the +reference to Pharaoh.</p> + +<p>St. vii. line 1, in 1646 and 1670 'not a haire but ...'</p> + +<p>St. ix. line 3, in 1648 a capital in 'All's.' G.</p> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_e.png" width="200" height="152" alt="Decoration E" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + +<h2><a name="TO_THE_NAME_ABOVE_EVERY_NAME_THE" id="TO_THE_NAME_ABOVE_EVERY_NAME_THE"></a>TO THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME, THE +NAME OF IESVS:</h2> + +<p class="center">A HYMN.<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></p> + + +<h4>In Vnitate Devs Est<br /> +Numisma Vrbani 6.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I sing the name which none can say<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But touch't with an interiour ray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of our new peace; our good:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our blisse: and supernaturall blood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of all our liues and loues.<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hearken, and help, ye holy doues!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The high-born brood of Day; you bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Candidates of blissefull light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heirs elect of Loue, whose names belong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnto the euerlasting life of song;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All ye wise sovles, who in the wealthy brest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this vnbounded name, build your warm nest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awake, my glory, Sovl (if such thou be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that fair word at all referr to thee),<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Awake and sing,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And be all wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring hither thy whole self; and let me see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What of thy parent Heavn yet speakes in thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O thou art poore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of noble powres, I see,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And full of nothing else but empty me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Narrow, and low, and infinitely lesse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then this great morning's mighty busynes.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One little world or two<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Alas) will neuer doe;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">We must haue store.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goe, Sovl, out of thy self, and seek for more.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Goe and request<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great Natvre for the key of her huge chest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Heauns, the self-inuoluing sett of sphears<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Which dull mortality more feeles then heares).<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then rouse the nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of nimble Art, and trauerse round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The aiery shop of soul-appeasing sound:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And beat a summons in the same<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">All-soueraign name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To warn each seuerall kind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shape of sweetnes, be they such<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As sigh with supple wind<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span><span class="i2">Or answer artfull touch;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That they conuene and come away<br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>love</i></span> +<span class="i0">To wait at the loue-crowned doores of this illustrious day. <br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall we dare this, my Soul? we'l doe't and bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No other note for't, but the name we sing.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wake lvte and harp, and euery sweet-lipp't thing<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That talkes with tunefull string;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Start into life, and leap with me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a hasty fitt-tun'd harmony.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor must you think it much<br /></span> +<span class="i2">T' obey my bolder touch;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I haue authority in Love's name to take you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the worke of Loue this morning wake you.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wake, in the name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Him Who neuer sleeps, all things that are,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or, what's the same,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are musicall;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Answer my call<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And come along;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Help me to meditate mine immortal song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, ye soft ministers of sweet sad mirth,<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring all your houshold stuffe of Heaun on earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O you, my Soul's most certain wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Complaining pipes, and prattling strings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring all the store<br /></span> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span></p><span class="i0">Of sweets you haue; and murmur that you haue no more.<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, ne're to part,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nature and Art!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come; and come strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the conspiracy of our spatious song.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring all the powres of praise,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your prouinces of well-vnited worlds can raise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring all your lvtes and harps of Heavn and Earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatere cooperates to the common mirthe:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vessells of vocall ioyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or you, more noble architects of intellectuall noise,<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cymballs of Heau'n, or humane sphears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solliciters of sovles or eares;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when you are come, with all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you can bring or we can call:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O may you fix<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">For euer here, and mix<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your selues into the long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And euerlasting series of a deathlesse song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mix all your many worlds aboue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loose them into one of loue.<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Chear thee my heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For thou too hast thy part<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And place in the Great Throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this vnbounded all-imbracing song.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Powres of my soul, be proud!<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And speake lowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all the dear-bought Nations, this redeeming Name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the wealth of one rich word, proclaim<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">New similes to Nature. May it be no wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest Heauns, to you and your superiour song,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we, dark sons of dust and sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A while dare borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of your dilights, and our desires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fitt it to so farr inferior lyres.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our murmurs haue their musick too,<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye mighty Orbes, as well as you;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor yeilds the noblest nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of warbling Seraphim to the eares of Loue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A choicer lesson then the ioyfull brest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a poor panting turtle-doue.<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we, low wormes, haue leaue to doe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same bright busynes (ye Third Heavens) with you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gentle spirits, doe not complain!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We will haue care<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To keep it fair,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And send it back to you again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, louely Name! Appeare from forth the bright<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Regions of peacefull light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look from Thine Own illustrious home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair King of names, and come:<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaue all Thy natiue glories in their gorgeous nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And giue Thy Self a while the gracious Guest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of humble soules, that seek to find<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hidden sweets<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which man's heart meets<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Thou art Master of the mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come louely Name; Life of our hope!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, we hold our hearts wide ope!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnlock Thy cabinet of Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dearest Sweet, and come away.<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lo, how the thirsty Lands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gasp for Thy golden showres! with long-stretcht hands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lo, how the laboring Earth<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That hopes to be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All Heauen by Thee,<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leapes at Thy birth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The' attending World, to wait Thy rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">First turn'd to eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, not knowing what to doe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn'd them to teares, and spent them too.<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come royall Name! and pay the expence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all this pretious patience;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O come away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kill the death of this delay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, see so many worlds of barren yeares<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melted and measur'd out in seas of teares:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, see the weary liddes of wakefull Hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Love's eastern windowes) all wide ope<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With curtains drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To catch the day-break of Thy dawn.<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, dawn at last, long-lookt for Day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take Thine own wings, and come away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where aloft it comes! It comes, among<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The conduct of adoring spirits, that throng<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like diligent bees, and swarm about it.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, they are wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And know what sweetes are suck't from out it:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is the hiue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By which they thriue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where all their hoard of hony lyes.<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where it comes, vpon the snowy Dove's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft back; and brings a bosom big with loues:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcome to our dark world, Thou womb of Day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnfold Thy fair conceptions, and display<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The birth of our bright ioyes, O Thou compacted<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Body of blessings: Spirit of soules extracted!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, dissipate Thy spicy powres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Cloud of condensèd sweets) and break vpon vs<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In balmy showrs!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, fill our senses, and take from vs all force of so prophane a fallacy,<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think ought sweet but that which smells of Thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair, flowry Name, in none but Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Thy nectareall fragrancy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hourly there meetes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An vniuersall synod of all sweets;<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By whom it is definèd thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That no perfume<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For euer shall presume<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To passe for odoriferous,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But such alone whose sacred pedigree<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can proue itself some kin (sweet Name!) to Thee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet Name, in Thy each syllable<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand blest Arabias dwell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand hills of frankincense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mountains of myrrh, and beds of spices<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ten thousand paradises,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul that tasts Thee takes from thence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many vnknown worlds there are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of comforts, which Thou hast in keeping!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many thousand mercyes there<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Pitty's soft lap ly a-sleeping!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy he who has the art<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To awake them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And to take them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home, and lodge them in his heart.<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, that it were as it was wont to be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Thy old freinds of fire, all full of Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fought against frowns with smiles; gaue glorious chase<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To persecutions; and against the face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Death and feircest dangers, durst with braue<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sober pace, march on to meet <span class="smcap">A GRAVE</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On their bold brests, about the world they bore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the teeth of Hell stood vp to teach Thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In center of their inmost soules, they wore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where rackes and torments striu'd, in vain, to reach Thee.<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little, alas, thought they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who tore the fair brests of Thy freinds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their fury but made way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Thee, and seru'd them in Thy glorious ends.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What did their weapons but with wider pores<span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inlarge Thy flaming-brested louers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">More freely to transpire<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That impatient fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart that hides Thee hardly couers?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What did their weapons but sett wide the doores<span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Thee? fair, purple doores, of Loue's deuising;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ruby windowes which inricht the East<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Thy so oft-repeated rising!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each wound of theirs was Thy new morning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reinthron'd Thee in Thy rosy nest,<span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With blush of Thine Own blood Thy day adorning:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was the witt of Loue oreflowd the bounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Wrath, and made Thee way through all those wovnds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wellcome, dear, all-adorèd Name!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For sure there is no knee<span class="linenum">220</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">That knowes not Thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, if there be such sonns of shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas! what will they doe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When stubborn rocks shall bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hills hang down their heaun-saluting heads<span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">To seek for humble beds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dust, where in the bashfull shades of Night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next to their own low Nothing, they may ly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And couch before the dazeling light of Thy dread majesty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They that by Loue's mild dictate now<span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will not adore Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall then, with just confusion bow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And break before Thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The title in 1648 'Steps' is simply 'On the name of Jesus.' +In 1670 it is 'To the Name above every Name, the Name of +Jesus, a Hymn,' and throughout differs from our text (1652) +only in usual modernisation of orthography. The text of 1648 +yields these readings:</p> + +<p> +Line 7, 'the bright.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 42, 'of th's.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 49, 'Into a habit fit of self tun'd Harmonie.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 79, 'you're.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 92, 'aloud.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 105, 'Seraphins.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 106, 'loyall' for 'joyfull.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 132, 'heavens.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 182 spells 'sillabell.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 187, 'The soules tastes thee takes from thence.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 202, 'bare.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 204, 'ware.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 209, 'For Thee: And serv'd therein thy glorious ends.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>See our Essay for critical remarks on the measure and +rhythm of this poem as printed in our text (1652). G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="PSALME_XXIII" id="PSALME_XXIII"></a>PSALME XXIII.<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Happy me! O happy sheepe!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom my God vouchsafes to keepe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even my God, even He it is,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That points me to these paths of blisse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Whose pastures cheerefull Spring,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the yeare doth sit and sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rejoycing, smiles to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their green backs weare His liverie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleasure sings my soul to rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plentie weares me at her brest,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose sweet temper teaches me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wanton, nor in want to be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At my feet, the blubb'ring mountaine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weeping, melts into a fountaine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soft, silver-sweating streames<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make high-noon forget his beames:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When my wayward breath is flying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He calls home my soul from dying;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strokes and tames my rabid griefe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And does wooe me into life:<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When my simple weaknes strayes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Tangled in forbidden wayes)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He (my Shepheard) is my guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee's before me, on my side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And behind me, He beguiles<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Craft in all her knottie wiles:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He expounds the weary wonder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of my giddy steps, and under<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spreads a path, cleare as the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where no churlish rub says nay<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my joy-conducted feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst they gladly goe to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grace and Peace, to learne new laies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tun'd to my great Shepheard's praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come now all ye terrors sally,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Muster forth into the valley,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where triumphant darknesse hovers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a sable wing, that covers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brooding horror. Come, thou Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the damps of thy dull breath<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over-shadow even that shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make Darknes' selfe afraid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There my feet, even there, shall find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Way for a resolvèd mind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still my Shepheard, still my God,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art with me; still Thy rod,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Thy staffe, whose influence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives direction, gives defence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the whisper of Thy word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown'd abundance spreads my boord:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I feast, my foes doe feed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their ranck malice not their need,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that with the self-same bread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are starv'd and I am fed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How my head in ointment swims!<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How my cup o'relooks her brims!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, even so still may I move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the line of Thy deare love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still may Thy sweet mercy spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shady arme above my head,<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">About my paths; so shall I find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faire center of my mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy temple, and those lovely walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright ever with a beame, that falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh from the pure glance of Thine eye,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lighting to Eternity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There I'le dwell for ever; there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will I find a purer aire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To feed my life with, there I'le sup<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Balme and nectar in my cup;<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thence my ripe soule will I breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warme into the armes of Death.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> this is headed 'Ps. 23 (Paraphrasia).' +In line 4 it reads 'paths' for 'wayes,' which I accept; line 27 +'weary' for 'giddy,' and line 28 'giddy' for 'weary,' both +adopted; line 29 reads as we have printed instead of 'Spreads +a path as cleare as day;' line 33, 'learne' for 'meet,' adopted; +line 41, 'that' for 'the,' adopted. Only orthographic further +variations. In line 30 'rub' = obstruction, reminds of <span class="smcap">Shakespeare's</span> +'Now every <i>rub</i> is smoothèd in our way' (Henry V. +ii. 2), and elsewhere. G.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="PSALM_CXXXVII" id="PSALM_CXXXVII"></a>PSALM CXXXVII.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the proud banks of great Euphrates' flood,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There we sate, and there we wept:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our harpes, that now no musick understood,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nodding, on the willowes slept:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While unhappy captiv'd wee,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lovely Sion, thought on thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, they that snatcht us from our countrie's breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Would have a song carv'd to their eares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Hebrew numbers, then (O cruell jest!)<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span><span class="i1">When harpes and hearts were drown'd in teares:<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come, they cry'd, come sing and play<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One of Sion's songs to-day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sing? play? to whom (ah!) shall we sing or play,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If not, Jerusalem, to thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! thee Jerusalem! ah! sooner may<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">This hand forget the masterie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Musick's dainty touch, than I<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The musick of thy memory.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which when I lose, O may at once my tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lose this same busie-speaking art,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnpearch't, her vocall arteries unstrung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No more acquainted with my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On my dry pallat's roof to rest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A wither'd leaf, an idle guest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, no, Thy good Sion, alone, must crowne<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The head of all my hope-nurst joyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Edom, cruell thou! thou cryd'st downe, downe<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sinke Sion, downe and never rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her falling thou did'st urge and thrust,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And haste to dash her into dust:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost laugh? proud Babel's daughter! do, laugh on,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till thy ruine teach thee teares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even such as these; laugh, till a venging throng<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of woes, too late, doe rouze thy feares:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laugh, till thy children's bleeding bones<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weepe pretious teares upon the stones.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span></div></div> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="IN_THE_HOLY_NATIVITY_OF_OVR_LORD_GOD" id="IN_THE_HOLY_NATIVITY_OF_OVR_LORD_GOD"></a>IN THE HOLY NATIVITY OF OVR LORD GOD:</h2> + +<p class="center">A HYMN SVNG AS BY THE SHEPHEARDS.<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a></p> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h3> + + +<h4><i>Chorvs.</i></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Come, we shepheards, whose blest sight<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath mett Loue's noon in Nature's night;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Come, lift we vp our loftyer song<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wake the svn that lyes too long.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">To all our world of well-stoln joy<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He slept; and dreamt of no such thing.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While we found out Heaun's fairer ey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kis't the cradle of our King.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tell him He rises now, too late<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show vs ought worth looking at.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Tell him we now can show him more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then he e're show'd to mortall sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then he himselfe e're saw before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which to be seen needes not his light.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tell him, Tityrus, where th' hast been,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell him Thyrsis, what th' hast seen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Tityrus.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Gloomy night embrac't the place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the noble Infant lay.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Babe look't vp and shew'd His face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In spite of darknes, it was day.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">It was Thy day, Sweet! and did rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not from the East, but from Thine eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Chorus.</i> It was Thy day, Sweet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Thyrsis.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Winter chidde aloud, and sent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The angry North to wage his warres.<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The North forgott his feirce intent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left perfumes in stead of scarres.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By those sweet eyes' persuasiue powrs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where he mean't frost, he scatter'd flowrs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Chorus.</i> By those sweet eyes.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Both.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">We saw Thee in Thy baulmy-nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young dawn of our æternall Day!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We saw Thine eyes break from their East<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chase the trembling shades away.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We saw Thee; and we blest the sight,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We saw Thee by Thine Own sweet light.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Tityrus.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Poor world (said I), what wilt thou doe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To entertain this starry Stranger?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is this the best thou canst bestow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cold, and not too cleanly, manger?<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Contend, the powres of Heau'n and Earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fitt a bed for this huge birthe?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Chorus.</i> Contend the powers.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Thyrsis.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Proud world, said I, cease your contest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let the mighty Babe alone.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The phænix builds the phænix' nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lov's architecture is his own.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Babe whose birth embraues this morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made His Own bed e're He was born.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Chorus.</i> The Babe whose....<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Tityrus.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">I saw the curl'd drops, soft and slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come houering o're the place's head;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Offring their whitest sheets of snow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To furnish the fair Infant's bed:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Forbear, said I; be not too bold,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your fleece is white but 'tis too cold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Chorus.</i> Forbear, sayd I.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Thyrsis.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">I saw the obsequious Seraphims<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their rosy fleece of fire bestow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For well they now can spare their wing,<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Heavn itself lyes here below.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Well done, said I; but are you sure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your down so warm, will passe for pure?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Chorus.</i> Well done, sayd I.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Tityrus.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">No, no! your King's not yet to seeke<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where to repose His royall head;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">See, see! how soon His new-bloom'd cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twixt's mother's brests is gone to bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet choise, said we! no way but so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to ly cold, yet sleep in snow.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Chorus.</i> Sweet choise, said we.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Both.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">We saw Thee in Thy baulmy nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright dawn of our æternall Day!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We saw Thine eyes break from their East<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chase the trembling shades away.<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">We saw Thee: and we blest the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We saw Thee, by Thine Own sweet light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Chorus.</i> We saw Thee, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Fvll Chorvs.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Wellcome, all wonders in one sight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Æternity shutt in a span!<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sommer in Winter, Day in Night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heauen in Earth, and God in man!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Great, little One! Whose all-embracing birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifts Earth to Heauen, stoopes Heau'n to Earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Wellcome, though not to gold nor silk,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To more then Cæsar's birth-right is;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Two sister-seas of virgin-milk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With many a rarely-temper'd kisse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That breathes at once both maid and mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warmes in the one, cooles in the other.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shee sings Thy tears asleep, and dips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her kisses in Thy weeping eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in their buds yet blushing lye;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She 'gainst those mother-diamonds, tries<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The points of her young eagle's eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wellcome, though not to those gay flyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guilded i' th' beames of earthly kings;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slippery soules in smiling eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to poor shepheards' home-spun things;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose wealth's their flock; whose witt, to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well-read in their simplicity.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet when young April's husband-showrs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall blesse the fruitfull Maja's bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We'l bring the first-born of her flowrs<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To kisse Thy feet and crown Thy head.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Thee, dread Lamb! Whose loue must keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shepheards, more then they the sheep.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">To Thee, meek Majesty! soft King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of simple Graces and sweet Loves:<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each of vs his lamb will bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each his pair of sylver doues:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till burnt at last in fire of Thy fair eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ourselues become our own best sacrifice.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> the heading is simply 'A Hymne of the +Nativitie sung by the Shepheards.' It furnishes these various +readings, though it wants a good deal of our text (1652):</p> + +<p>Lines 1 to 4,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">'who haue seene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daie's King deposèd by night's Queene.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come lift we up our lofty song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wake the sun that sleeps too long.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 5 to 7,</span> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Hee (in this our generall joy)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slept . . . . . . . .<br /></span> +<span class="i0">. . . . . . . . the faire-ey'd boy.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 24, 'Winter chid the world . . . .'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 32, 'Bright dawne . . . . '</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 58 to 63,</span> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'I saw the officious angells bring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The downe that their soft breasts did strow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For well they now can spare their wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When heauen itselfe lies here below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faire youth (said I) be not too rough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy downe (though soft)'s not soft enough.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>'Officious' = ready to do good offices: 'obsequious' = obedient, +eager to serve.</p> + +<p>Lines 65 to 68,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'The Babe noe sooner 'gan to seeke<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where to lay His louely head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But streight His eyes advis'd His cheeke<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Twixt's mother's breasts to goe to bed.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 79, 'Welcome to our wond'ring sight.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 83, 'glorious birth.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 85, 'not to gold' for 'nor to gold:' adopted.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 96, 'points' = pupils (?).</span> +</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span></p> + +<p>Lines 101 to 103,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'But to poore shepheards' simple things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That vse not varnish; noe oyl'd arts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lift cleane hands full of cleare hearts.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 108, '. . . . while they feed the sheepe.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 114, 'Wee'l burne . . . .'</span> +</p> + +<p>These variations agree with the text of 1646. See our Essay +for critical remarks. G.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="NEW_YEARS_DAY" id="NEW_YEARS_DAY"></a>NEW YEAR'S DAY.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Rise, thou best and brightest morning!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rosy with a double red;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With thine own blush thy cheeks adorning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dear drops this day were shed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">All the purple pride, that laces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crimson curtains of thy bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Guilds thee not with so sweet graces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor setts thee in so rich a red.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Of all the fair-cheek't flowrs that fill thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None so fair thy bosom strowes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As this modest maiden lilly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our sins haue sham'd into a rose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Bid thy golden god, the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burnisht in his best beames rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Put all his red-ey'd rubies on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These rubies shall putt out their eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Let him make poor the purple East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Search what the world's close cabinets keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rob the rich births of each bright nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That flaming in their fair beds sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Let him embraue his own bright tresses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a new morning made of gemmes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wear, in those his wealthy dresses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another day of diadems.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">When he hath done all he may<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make himselfe rich in his rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All will be darknes to the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That breakes from one of these bright eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And soon this sweet truth shall appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Babe, ere many dayes be done;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Morn shall come to meet Thee here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaue her own neglected sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Here are beautyes shall bereaue him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all his eastern paramours.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His Persian louers all shall leaue him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And swear faith to Thy sweeter powres;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor while they leave him shall they lose the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in Thy fairest eyes find two for one.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>St. ii. line 1,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'All the purple pride that laces;'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>the reference is to the empurpled lighter and lace- (or gauze-) +like clouds of the morning. The heavier clouds are the 'crimson +curtains,' the 'purple laces' the fleecy, lace-like, and empurpled +streakings of the lighter and dissolving clouds, which +the Poet likens to the lace that edged the coverlet, and possibly +other parts of the bed and bedstead. <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> describes a +similar appearance with the same word, but uses it in the sense +of inter or cross lacing, when he makes Juliet say (iii. 5),</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">'look, love, what envious streaks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do <i>lace</i> the severing clouds in yonder East.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So too in stanza v. 'each sparkling nest,' the flame-coloured +clouds are intended. 'Nest,' like 'bud,' is a favourite word +with <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, and he uses it freely. In 1648 edition, st. iii. +line 2 reads 'showes;' stanza v. line 2, 'cabinets;' stanza viii. +line 5, 'and meet;' stanza ix. 'paramours' = lovers, wooers, <i>not</i> +as now signifying loose love. G.</p> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_e.png" width="200" height="152" alt="Decoration E" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="IN_THE_GLORIOVS_EPIPHANIE_OF_OVR" id="IN_THE_GLORIOVS_EPIPHANIE_OF_OVR"></a>IN THE GLORIOVS EPIPHANIE OF OVR +LORD GOD:</h2> + +<h3>A HYMN SVNG AS BY THE THREE KINGS.<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Bright Babe! Whose awfull beautyes make<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">The morn incurr a sweet mistake;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> For Whom the officious Heauns deuise<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To disinheritt the sun's rise:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Delicately to displace<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day, and plant it fairer in Thy face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> O Thou born King of loues!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> Of lights!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Of ioyes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Look vp, sweet Babe, look vp and see<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">For loue of Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thus farr from home<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The East is come<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To seek her self in Thy sweet eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> We, who strangely went astray,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Lost in a bright<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Meridian night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> A darknes made of too much day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Becken'd from farr<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By Thy fair starr,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Lo, at last haue found our way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> To Thee, Thou Day of Night! Thou East of West!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Lo, we at last haue found the way<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To Thee, the World's great vniuersal East,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The generall and indifferent Day.<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> All-circling point! all-centring sphear!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The World's one, round, æternall year:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> Whose full and all-vnwrinkled face<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor sinks nor swells with time or place;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> But euery where and euery while<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is one consistent, solid smile:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Not vext and tost<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> 'Twixt Spring and frost;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Nor by alternate shredds of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sordidly shifting hands with shades and Night.<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> O little all! in Thy embrace<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The World lyes warm, and likes his place;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor does his full globe fail to be<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Kist on both his cheeks by Thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Time is too narrow for Thy year,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor makes the whole World Thy half-sphear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> To Thee, to Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i6">From him we flee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> From him, whom by a more illustrious ly,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The blindnes of the World did call the eye.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> To Him, Who by these mortall clouds hast made<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thyself our sun, though Thine Own shade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Farewell, the World's false light!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Farewell, the white<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ægypt; a long farewell to thee<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Bright idol, black idolatry:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The dire face of inferior darknes, kis't<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And courted in the pompus mask of a more specious mist.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> Farewell, farewell<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The proud and misplac't gates of Hell,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Pertch't in the Morning's way <i>perched.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And double-guilded as the doores of Day:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The deep hypocrisy of Death and Night<br /></span> +<span class="i4">More desperately dark, because more bright.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Welcome, the World's sure way!<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Heavn's wholsom ray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Wellcome to vs; and we<br /></span> +<span class="i6">(Sweet!) to our selues, in Thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> The deathles Heir of all Thy Father's day!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> Decently born!<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Embosom'd in a much more rosy Morn:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The blushes of Thy all-vnblemisht mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> No more that other<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Aurora shall sett ope<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Her ruby casements, or hereafter hope<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">From mortall eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To meet religious welcomes at her rise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> We (pretious ones!) in you haue won<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A gentler Morn, a iuster sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> His superficiall beames sun-burn't our skin;<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> But left within<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> The Night and Winter still of Death and Sin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Thy softer yet more certaine darts<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Spare our eyes, but peirce our harts:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Therfore with his proud Persian spoiles<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> We court Thy more concerning smiles.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Therfore with his disgrace<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We guild the humble cheek of this chast place;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> And at Thy feet powr forth his face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> The doating Nations now no more<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall any day but Thine adore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> Nor—much lesse—shall they leaue these eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For cheap Ægyptian deityes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> In whatsoe're more sacred shape<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of ram, he-goat, or reuerend ape;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Those beauteous rauishers opprest so sore<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The too-hard-tempted nations.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Neuer more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">By wanton heyfer shall be worn<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> A garland, or a guilded horn:<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">The altar-stall'd ox, fatt Osyris now<br /></span> +<span class="i6">With his fair sister cow<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Shall kick the clouds no more; but lean and tame,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> See His horn'd face, and dy for shame:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And Mithra now shall be no name.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> No longer shall the immodest lust<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of adulterous godles dust<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> Fly in the face of Heau'n; as if it were<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The poor World's fault that He is fair.<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Nor with peruerse loues and religious rapes<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Reuenge Thy bountyes in their beauteous shapes;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And punish best things worst; because they stood<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Guilty of being much for them too good.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Proud sons of Death! that durst compell<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Heau'n it self to find them Hell:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> And by strange witt of madnes wrest<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From this World's East the other's West.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> All-idolizing wormes! that thus could crowd<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And vrge their sun into Thy cloud;<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Forcing His sometimes eclips'd face to be<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A long deliquium to the light of Thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Alas! with how much heauyer shade<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The shamefac't lamp hung down his head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">For that one eclipse he made,<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then all those he suffered!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> For this he look't so bigg; and euery morn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With a red face confes't his scorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or hiding his vex't cheeks in a hir'd mist<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Kept them from being so vnkindly kis't.<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> It was for this the Day did rise<br /></span> +<span class="i6">So oft with blubber'd eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For this the Evening wept; and we ne're knew<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But call'd it deaw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> This dayly wrong<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Silenc't the morning-sons, and damp't their song:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Nor was't our deafnes, but our sins, that thus<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Long made th' harmonious orbes all mute to vs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Time has a day in store<br /></span> +<span class="i6">When this so proudly poor<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And self-oppressèd spark, that has so long<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By the loue-sick World bin made<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Not so much their sun as shade:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Weary of this glorious wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From them and from himself shall flee<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">For shelter to the shadow of Thy tree:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Proud to haue gain'd this pretious losse<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And chang'd his false crown for Thy crosse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> That dark Day's clear doom shall define<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span><span class="i4">Whose is the master Fire, which sun should shine:<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">That sable judgment-seat shall by new lawes<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Decide and settle the great cause<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of controuerted light:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> And Natur's wrongs rejoyce to doe Thee right.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> That forfeiture of Noon to Night shall pay<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">All the idolatrous thefts done by this Night of Day;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the great Penitent presse his own pale lipps<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With an elaborate loue-eclipse:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To which the low World's lawes<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Shall lend no cause,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Saue those domestick which He borrowes<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From our sins and His Own sorrowes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Three sad hours' sackcloth then shall show to vs<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His penance, as our fault, conspicuous:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> And He more needfully and nobly proue<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Nations' terror now then erst their loue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> Their hated loues changd into wholsom feares:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> The shutting of His eye shall open their's.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> As by a fair-ey'd fallacy of Day<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Miss-ledde, before, they lost their way;<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">So shall they, by the seasonable fright<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of an vnseasonable Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Loosing it once again, stumble on true Light:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> And as before His too-bright eye<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span><span class="i4">Was their more blind idolatry;<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">So his officious blindnes now shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their black, but faithfull perspectiue of Thee:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> His new prodigious Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their new and admirable light,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The supernaturall dawn of Thy pure Day;<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">While wondring they<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(The happy conuerts now of Him<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whom they compell'd before to be their sin)<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Shall henceforth see<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To kisse him only as their rod,<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whom they so long courted as God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> And their best vse of him they worship't, be<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To learn of him at last, to worship Thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> It was their weaknes woo'd his beauty;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But it shall be<span class="linenum">185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their wisdome now, as well as duty,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To injoy his blott; and as a large black letter<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Vse it to spell Thy beautyes better;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And make the Night it self their torch to Thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> By the oblique ambush of this close night<span class="linenum">190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Couch't in that conscious shade<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The right-ey'd Areopagite<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Shall with a vigorous guesse inuade<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And catch Thy quick reflex; and sharply see<br /></span> +<span class="i6">On this dark ground<span class="linenum">195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">To descant Thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> O prize of the rich Spirit! with what feirce chase<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of his strong soul, shall he<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Leap at thy lofty face,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And seize the swift flash, in rebound<span class="linenum">200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">From this obsequious cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Once call'd a sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Till dearly thus vndone;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Till thus triumphantly tam'd (O ye two<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Twinne svnnes!) and taught now to negotiate you.<span class="linenum">205</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Thus shall that reuerend child of Light,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> By being scholler first of that new Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Come forth great master of the mystick Day;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> And teach obscure mankind a more close way<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By the frugall negatiue light<span class="linenum">210</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of a most wise and well-abusèd Night<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To read more legible Thine originall ray;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> And make our darknes serue Thy Day:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Maintaining 'twixt Thy World and oures<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A commerce of contrary powres,<span class="linenum">215</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">A mutuall trade<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'Twixt sun and shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By confederat black and white<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Borrowing Day and lending Night.<span class="linenum">219</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> Thus we, who when with all the noble powres<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That (at Thy cost) are call'd, not vainly, ours:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">We vow to make braue way<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Vpwards, and presse on for the pure intelligentiall prey;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> At least to play<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The amorous spyes<span class="linenum">225</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And peep and proffer at Thy sparkling throne;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>3 Kinge.</i> In stead of bringing in the blissfull prize<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And fastening on Thine eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Forfeit our own<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And nothing gain<span class="linenum">230</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">But more ambitious losse at last, of brain;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> Now by abasèd liddes shall learn to be<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Eagles; and shutt our eyes that we may see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>The Close.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[<i>Chorus.</i>] Therfore to Thee and Thine auspitious ray<span class="linenum">235</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">(Dread Sweet!) lo thus<br /></span> +<span class="i6">At last by vs,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The delegated eye of Day<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Does first his scepter, then himself, in solemne tribute pay.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thus he vndresses<span class="linenum">240</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">His sacred vnshorn tresses;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">At Thy adorèd feet, thus he layes down<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> His gorgeous tire<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of flame and fire,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>2 Kinge.</i> His glittering robe. <i>3 Kinge.</i> His sparkling crown;<span class="linenum">245</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>1 Kinge.</i> His gold: <i>2 Kinge.</i> His mirrh: <i>3 Kinge.</i> His frankincense.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Chorus.</i> To which he now has no pretence:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">For being show'd by this Day's light, how farr<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He is from sun enough to make Thy starr,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His best ambition now is but to be<span class="linenum">250</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Somthing a brighter shadow, Sweet, of Thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or on Heaun's azure forhead high to stand<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy golden index; with a duteous hand<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pointing vs home to our own sun<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The World's and his Hyperion.<span class="linenum">255</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The title in 1648 edition is simply 'A Hymne for the Epiphanie. +Sung as by the three Kings.' Except the usual slight +changes of orthography, the following are all the variations between +the two texts necessary to record: and I give with them +certain corrective and explanatory notes:</p> + +<p>line 25, 'indifferent' is = impartial, not as now 'unconcerned.'<br /> +Line 52, 1648 edition misprints 'his't' for 'kis't.' In the +51st line the 'bright idol' is the sun.<br /> +Line 83, ib. reads 'thy' for 'this.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 95, 'a guilded horn.' Cf. Juvenal, Satire x.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 99, ib. is given to 3d King. Throughout we have corrected +a number of slips of the Paris printer in his figures.</span><br /> +Line 108, ib. spells 'to' for 'too.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 117, '<i>deliquium</i>' = swoon, faint. In chemistry = melting.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 122, 1648 edition reads 'his' for 'this;' and I have +adopted it.</span><br /> +Line 143, ib. reads 'deere:' a misprint.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 155, ib. reads 'domesticks.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 180, ib. reads 'the' for 'their.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 186, ib. drops 'it.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 195, ib. reads 'what' for 'that,' and in next line 'his' +for 'this,' of 1652: both adopted.</span><br /> +Line 212, 'legible' is = legibly.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 224 and onward, in 1648 is printed 'least,' in our text +(1652) 'lest.' Except in line 224 it is plainly = last, and so I +read it in 231st and 237th.</span> +</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span></p> + +<p>See our Essay for Miltonic parallels with lines in this remarkable +composition. Line 46, 'these mortal clouds,' <i>i.e.</i> of +infant flesh. Cf. Sosp. d' Herode, stanza xxiii.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'That He whom the sun serves should faintly peep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through <i>clouds of infant flesh</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Line 114, 'And urge their sun into Thy cloud,' <i>i.e.</i> into becoming +Thy cloud, forcing him to become 'a long deliquium to the +light of thee.' Line 189, our text (1652) misprints 'in self.' Line +190, 'By the oblique ambush,' &c. The Kings continuing in the +spirit of prophecy, and with words not to be understood till their +fulfilment, pass on from the dimming of the sun at the Crucifixion +to a second dimming, but this time through the splendour of a +brighter light, at the conversion of him who was taken to preach +to the Gentiles in the court of the Areopagites. The speaker, or +rather <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, takes the view which at first sight may seem to +be implied in the gospel narrative, that the light brighter than +midday shone round about <span class="smcap">Saul</span> and his companions but not on +them, they being couched in the conscious shade of the daylight. +Throughout, there is a double allusion to this second +dimming of the sun as manifesting Christ to St. Paul and the +Gentiles, and to the dimming of the eyes, and the walking in darkness +for a time of him who as a light on Earth was to manifest +the True Light to the world. Throughout, too, there is a +kind of parallelism indicated between the two lesser lights. Both +rebellions were to be dimmed and brought into subjection, and +then to shine forth 'right-eyed' in renewed and purified splendour +as evidences of the Sun of Righteousness. Hence at the +close, the chorus calls them 'ye twin-suns,'—and the words, +'Till thus triumphantly tamed' refer equally to both. The +punctuation to make this clear should be '... sun, ... undone; +...' 'To negotiate you' (both word and metaphor being +rather unhappily chosen) means, to pass you current as the +true-stamped image of the Deity. 'O price of the rich Spirit' +(line 197) may be made to refer to 'thee [O Christ], price of the +rich spirit' of Paul, but 'may be' is almost too strong to apply +to such an interpretation. It is far more consonant to the structure +and tenor of the whole passage, to read it as an epithet +applied to St. Paul: 'O prize of the rich Spirit of grace.' I +have also without hesitation changed 'of this strong soul' into +'of <i>his</i> strong soul.' 'Oblique ambush' may refer to the oblique +rays of the sun now rays of darkness, but the primary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> +reference is to the indirect manner and 'vigorous guess,' by +which St. Paul, mentally glancing from one to the other light, +learned through the dimming of the sun to believe in the Deity +of Him who spake from out the dimming brightness. The +same thought, though with a strained and less successful effort +of expression, appears in the song of the third King, 'with that +fierce chase,' &c.</p> + +<p>Line 251. 'Somthing a brighter shadow (Sweet) of Thee.' Apparently +a remembrance of a passage which <span class="smcap">Thomas Heywood</span>, +in his 'Hierarchie of the Angels,' gives from a Latin translation +of <span class="smcap">Plato</span>, 'Lumen est umbra Dei et Deus est Lumen +Luminis.' On which see our Essay. Perhaps the same gave +rise to the thought that the sun eclipsed God, or shut Him out +as a cloud or shade, or made night, <i>e.g.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'And urge their sun . . . . . .<br /></span> +<span class="i0">. . . . eclipse he made:' (lines 115-120).<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Not so much their sun as shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">. . . . by this night of day:' (lines 138-151). G.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="TO_THE_QVEENS_MAIESTY" id="TO_THE_QVEENS_MAIESTY"></a>TO THE QVEEN'S MAIESTY.<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap">Madame</span>,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mongst those long rowes of crownes that guild your race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These royall sages sue for decent place:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day-break of the Nations; their first ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the dark World dawn'd into Christian Day,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smil'd i' th' Babe's bright face; the purpling bud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rosy dawn of the right royall blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair first-fruits of the Lamb! sure kings in this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They took a kingdom while they gaue a kisse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the World's homage, scarse in these well blown,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We read in you (rare queen) ripe and full-grown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For from this day's rich seed of diadems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does rise a radiant croppe of royalle stemms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A golden haruest of crown'd heads, that meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crowd for kisses from the Lamb's white feet:<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this illustrious throng, your lofty floud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swells high, fair confluence of all high-born bloud:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With your bright head, whole groues of scepters bend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their wealthy tops, and for these feet contend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So swore the Lamb's dread Sire: and so we see't,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crownes, and the heads they kisse, must court these feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fix here, fair majesty! May your heart ne're misse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To reap new crownes and kingdoms from that kisse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor may we misse the ioy to meet in you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The aged honors of this day still new.<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">May the great time, in you, still greater be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While all the year is your epiphany;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While your each day's deuotion duly brings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three kingdomes to supply this day's three kings.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In 1648 the title is 'To the Queene's Majestie upon his +dedicating to her the foregoing Hymne, viz. "A Hymne for the +Epiphanie,"' which there precedes, but in 1652 follows, the +dedicatory lines to the Queen. 1648 furnishes these variations: +line 7 misprints 'down' for 'dawn:' line 11 reads 'deare' for +'rare:' line 14 'royall' for 'golden:' line 18 corrects our text's +misprint of 'whose' for 'whole,' which I have accepted: line 20 +reads 'great' for 'dread.'</p> + +<p>In line 3 we read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Those royall sages sue for decent place.'<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span></div></div> + +<p>We know that the King on Twelfth-day presented gold, frankincense +and myrrh, and so perhaps did the Queen. But these +gifts were not presented to the magi-kings, and <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> seems +to sue on behalf of 'these royall sages.' The explanation doubtless +is that this was a verse-letter to the Queen, enclosing as +a gift his Epiphany Hymn 'sung as by the three Kings.'</p> + +<p>In line 5 'the purpling bud,' &c. requires study. Led by +the (erroneous) punctuation (face,) I supposed this clause to +refer to the 'Babe.' But would our Poet have said that the +'dawn of the world smiled on the Babe's face,' and in the same +breath have called the face a 'rosy dawn'? Looking to this, +and his rather profuse employment of 'bud,' I now believe the +clause to be another description of the kings, and punctuate +(face;). The rhythm of the passage is certainly improved +thereby and made more like that of <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, and the words +'right royall blood,' which may be thought to become difficult, +can be thus explained. The races of the heathen kings were +not 'royal,' their authority being usurped and falsely derived +from false gods, and the kingly blood first became truly royal +when the kings recognised the supreme sovereignty of the King +of kings and the derivation of their authority from Him, and +when they were in turn recognised by Him. Hence the use of +the epithet 'purpling,' the Christian or Christ-accepting kings +being the first who were truly 'born in the purple,' or '<i>right</i> +royall blood.'</p> + +<p>In lines 15-18, as punctuated in preceding editions, the +Poet is made to arrange his words after a fashion hardly to +be called English, and to jumble his metaphors like a poetaster +or 4th of July orator in America. But both sense and poetry +are restored by taking the (!) after 'blood' as at least equal to +(:), and by replacing 'whose' by 'whole,' as in 1648. This +seems to us restoration, not change. Even thus read, however, +the passage is somewhat cloudy; but the construction is—the +groves of sceptres of your high-born ancestors bend with you +their wealthy tops, when you bow down your head. Our Poet is +fond of inversions, and they are sometimes more obscure than +they ought to be. Line 20 = Psalm i., and cf. Philip. ii. 11. G.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="VPON_EASTER_DAY" id="VPON_EASTER_DAY"></a>VPON EASTER DAY.<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rise heire of fresh Eternity<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From thy virgin tombe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise mighty Man of wonders, and Thy World with Thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy tombe the uniuersall East,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nature's new wombe,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy tombe, fair Immortalitie's perfumèd nest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of all the glories make Noone gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This is the Morne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Rock buds forth the fountaine of the streames of Day;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Joye's white annalls live this howre<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">When Life was borne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No cloud scoule on His radiant lids, no tempest lower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life, by this Light's nativity<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All creatures have;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death onely by this Daye's just doome is forc't to dye,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor is Death forc't; for may he ly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thron'd in Thy grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death will on this condition be content to dye.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="SOSPETTO_D_HERODE" id="SOSPETTO_D_HERODE"></a>SOSPETTO D' HERODE.</h2> + +<p class="center">LIBRO PRIMO.<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a></p> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h3>ARGOMENTO.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Casting the times with their strong signes,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Death's master his owne death divines:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Strugling for helpe, his best hope is</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Herod's suspition may heale his.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Therefore he sends a fiend to wake</i><br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>foolish</i></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The sleeping tyrant's fond mistake;</i> <br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Who feares (in vaine) that He Whose birth</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Meanes Heav'n, should meddle with his Earth.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Muse, now the servant of soft loves no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hate is thy theame, and Herod, whose unblest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hand (O what dares not jealous greatnesse?) tore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand sweet babes from their mothers' brest:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bloomes of martyrdome. O be a dore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of language to my infant lips, yee best<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of confessours: whose throates answering his swords,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gave forth your blood for breath, spoke soules for words.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Great Anthony! Spain's well-beseeming pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mighty branch of emperours and kings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beauties of whose dawne what eye may bide?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which with the sun himselfe weigh's equall wings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mappe of heroick worth! whom farre and wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the beleeving world, Fame boldly sings:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Deigne thou to weare this humble wreath, that bowes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To be the sacred honour of thy browes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor needs my Muse a blush, or these bright flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Other than what their owne blest beauties bring:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were the smiling sons of those sweet bowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That drink the deaw of life, whose deathlesse spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor Sirian flame nor Borean frost deflowers:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From whence heav'n-labouring bees with busie wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Suck hidden sweets, which well-digested proves<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Immortall hony for the hive of loves.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou, whose strong hand with so transcendent worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holds high the reine of faire Parthenope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That neither Rome nor Athens can bring forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A name in noble deeds rivall to thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fame's full noise, makes proud the patient Earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farre more then, matter for my Muse and mee.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Tyrrhene Seas and shores sound all the same<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in their murmurs keepe thy mighty name.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Below the bottome of the great Abysse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There where one center reconciles all things:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World's profound heart pants; there placèd is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mischiefe's old master. Close about him clings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A curl'd knot of embracing snakes, that kisse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His correspondent cheekes: these loathsome strings<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hold the perverse prince in eternall ties<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fast bound, since first he forfeited the skies.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The judge of torments and the king of teares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He fills a burnisht throne of quenchlesse fire:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for his old faire roabes of light, he weares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gloomy mantle of darke flames; the tire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That crownes his hated head on high appeares:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where seav'n tall hornes (his empire's pride) aspire.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to make up Hell's majesty, each horne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seav'n crested Hydras, horribly adorne.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His eyes, the sullen dens of Death and Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Startle the dull ayre with a dismall red:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such his fell glances, as the fatall light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of staring comets, that looke kingdomes dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his black nostrills, and blew lips, in spight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Hell's owne stinke, a worser stench is spread.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His breath Hell's lightning is: and each deepe groane<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Disdaines to think that Heav'n thunders alone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His flaming eyes' dire exhalation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnto a dreadfull pile gives fiery breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose unconsum'd consumption preys upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The never-dying life of a long death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this sad house of slow destruction,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(His shop of flames) hee fryes himself, beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A masse of woes; his teeth for torment gnash,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While his steele sides sound with his tayle's strong lash.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>IX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three rigourous virgins waiting still behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assist the throne of th' iron-sceptred king.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With whips of thornes and knotty vipers twin'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rouse him, when his ranke thoughts need a sting.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their lockes are beds of uncomb'd snakes that wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About their shady browes in wanton rings.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thus reignes the wrathfull king, and while he reignes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His scepter and himselfe both he disdaines.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>X.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Disdainefull wretch! how hath one bold sinne cost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee all the beauties of thy once bright eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How hath one black eclipse cancell'd, and crost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glories that did gild thee in thy rise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud morning of a perverse day! how lost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art thou unto thy selfe, thou too selfe-wise<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Narcissus! foolish Phaeton! who for all<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy high-aym'd hopes, gaind'st but a flaming fall.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From Death's sad shades to the life-breathing ayre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This mortall enemy to mankind's good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifts his malignant eyes, wasted with care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To become beautifull in humane blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Iordan melts his chrystall, to make faire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fields of Palestine, with so pure a flood,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There does he fixe his eyes: and there detect<br /></span> +<span class="i1">New matter, to make good his great suspect.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He calls to mind th' old quarrell, and what sparke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Set the contending sons of Heav'n on fire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft in his deepe thought he revolves the darke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sibill's divining leaves: he does enquire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into th' old prophesies, trembling to marke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many present prodigies conspire,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To crowne their past predictions, both he layes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Together, in his pondrous mind both weighs.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heaven's golden-wingèd herald, late he saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a poore Galilean virgin sent:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How low the bright youth bow'd, and with what awe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immortall flowers to her faire hand present.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw th' old Hebrewe's wombe, neglect the law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of age and barrennesse, and her babe prevent <i>anticipate</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His birth by his devotion, who began<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Betimes to be a saint, before a man.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He saw rich nectar-thawes, release the rigour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of th' icy North; from frost-bound Atlas hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His adamantine fetters fall: green vigour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gladding the Scythian rocks and Libian sands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw a vernall smile, sweetly disfigure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter's sad face, and through the flowry lands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of faire Engaddi, hony-sweating fountaines<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With manna, milk, and balm, new-broach the mountaines.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He saw how in that blest Day-bearing Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heav'n-rebukèd shades made hast away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How bright a dawne of angels with new light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amaz'd the midnight world, and made a Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of which the Morning knew not. Mad with spight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He markt how the poore shepheards ran to pay<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their simple tribute to the Babe, Whose birth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was the great businesse both of Heav'n and Earth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He saw a threefold Sun, with rich encrease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make proud the ruby portalls of the East.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw the Temple sacred to sweet Peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adore her Prince's birth, flat on her brest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw the falling idolls, all confesse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A comming Deity: He saw the nest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of pois'nous and unnaturall loves, Earth-nurst,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Toucht with the World's true antidote, to burst.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XVII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He saw Heav'n blossome with a new-borne light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which, as on a glorious stranger gaz'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The golden eyes of Night: whose beame made bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The way to Beth'lem and as boldly blaz'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Nor askt leave of the sun) by day as night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By whom (as Heav'ns illustrious hand-maid) rais'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Three kings (or what is more) three wise men went<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Westward to find the World's true orient.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XVIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strucke with these great concurrences of things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Symptomes so deadly unto Death and him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faine would he have forgot what fatall strings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternally bind each rebellious limbe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shooke himselfe, and spread his spatious wings:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which like two bosom'd sailes, embrace the dimme<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aire, with a dismall shade; but all in vaine:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of sturdy adamant is his strong chaine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While thus Heav'n's highest counsails, by the low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Footsteps of their effects, he trac'd too well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He tost his troubled eyes: embers that glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now with new rage, and wax too hot for Hell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his foule clawes he fenc'd his furrowed brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave a gastly shreeke, whose horrid yell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ran trembling through the hollow vaults of Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The while his twisted tayle he gnaw'd for spight.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet on the other side, faine would he start<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above his feares, and thinke it cannot be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He studies Scripture, strives to sound the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feele the pulse of every prophecy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knows (but knowes not how, or by what art)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heav'n-expecting ages hope to see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A mighty Babe, Whose pure, unspotted birth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From a chast virgin wombe, should blesse the Earth.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XXI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But these vast mysteries his senses smother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reason (for what's faith to him?) devoure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How she that is a maid should prove a mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet keepe inviolate her virgin flower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How God's eternall Sonne should be Man's brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poseth his proudest intellectuall power.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How a pure Spirit should incarnate bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Life it selfe weare Death's fraile livery.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That the great angell-blinding Light should shrinke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His blaze, to shine in a poore shepherd's eye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the unmeasur'd God so low should sinke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As pris'ner in a few poore rags to lye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from His mother's brest He milke should drinke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who feeds with nectar Heav'n's faire family:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That a vile manger His low bed should prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who in a throne of stars thunders above.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That He Whom the sun serves, should faintly peepe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through clouds of infant flesh: that He the old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternall Word should be a child, and weepe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That He Who made the fire, should feare the cold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Heav'n's high Majesty His court should keepe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a clay-cottage, by each blast control'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That Glorie's Self should serve our griefs and feares,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And free Eternity, submit to yeares.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XXIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And further, that the Lawe's eternall Giver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should bleed in His Owne Lawe's obedience:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the circumcising knife deliver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himselfe, the forfet of His slave's offence:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the unblemisht Lambe, blessèd for ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should take the marke of sin, and paine of sence.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">These are the knotty riddles, whose darke doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Intangles his lost thoughts, past getting out.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While new thoughts boyl'd in his enragèd brest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His gloomy bosome's darkest character<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was in his shady forehead seen exprest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The forehead's shade in Griefe's expression there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is what in signe of joy among the blest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The face's lightning, or a smile is here.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those stings of care that his strong heart opprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A desperate, Oh mee! drew from his deepe brest.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh mee! (thus bellow'd he) Oh mee! what great<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Portents before mine eyes their powers advance?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And serves my purer sight, onely to beat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Downe my proud thought, and leave it in a trance?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frowne I: and can great Nature keep her seat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the gay starrs lead on their golden dance?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can His attempts above still prosp'rous be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Auspicious still, in spight of Hell and me?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XXVII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hee has my Heaven (what would He more?) whose bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And radiant scepter this bold hand should beare:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for the never-fading fields of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My faire inheritance, He confines me here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To this darke house of shades, horrour and night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To draw a long-liv'd death, where all my cheere<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is the solemnity my sorrow weares,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That mankind's torment waits upon my teares.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXVIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Darke, dusky Man, He needs would single forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make the partner of His Owne pure ray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And should we powers of Heav'n, spirits of worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow our bright heads before a king of clay?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shall not be, said I, and clombe the North,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where never wing of angell yet made way:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What though I mist my blow? yet I strooke high,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to dare something, is some victory.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXIX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is He not satisfied? meanes He to wrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hell from me too, and sack my territories?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vile humane nature means He not t' invest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(O my despight!) with His divinest glories?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rising with rich spoiles upon His brest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With His faire triumphs fill all future stories?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Must the bright armes of Heav'n, rebuke these eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mocke me, and dazle my darke mysteries?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XXX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Art thou not Lucifer? he to whom the droves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of stars that gild the Morne, in charge were given?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nimblest of the lightning-wingèd loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest, and the first-borne smile of Heav'n?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looke in what pompe the mistrisse planet moves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rev'rently circled by the lesser seaven:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such, and so rich, the flames that from thine eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Opprest the common-people of the skyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah wretch! what bootes thee to cast back thy eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where dawning hope no beame of comfort showes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the reflection of thy forepast joyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Renders thee double to thy present woes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather make up to thy new miseries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And meet the mischiefe that upon thee growes.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If Hell must mourne, Heav'n sure shall sympathize,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What force cannot effect, fraud shall devise.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet whose force feare I? have I so lost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My selfe? my strength too with my innocence?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come try who dares, Heav'n, Earth, what ere doth boast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A borrowed being, make thy bold defence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come thy Creator too: What though it cost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me yet a second fall? wee'd try our strengths:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heav'n saw us struggle once; as brave a fight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Earth now should see, and tremble at the sight.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XXXIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus spoke th' impatient prince, and made a pause:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His foule hags rais'd their heads, and clapt their hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the powers of Hell in full applause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flourisht their snakes, and tost their flaming brands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We (said the horrid sisters) wait thy lawes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' obsequious handmaids of thy high commands:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be it thy part, Hell's mighty lord, to lay<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On us thy dread command, our's to obey.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What thy Alecto, what these hands can doe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mad'st bold proofe upon the brow of Heav'n,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor should'st thou bate in pride, because that now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To these thy sooty kingdomes thou art driven.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Heav'n's Lord chide above lowder than thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In language of His thunder, thou art even<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With Him below: here thou art lord alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Boundlesse and absolute: Hell is thine owne.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If usuall wit, and strength will doe no good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vertues of stones, nor herbes: use stronger charmes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anger and love, best hookes of humane blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If all faile, wee'l put on our proudest armes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pouring on Heav'n's face the Sea's huge flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quench His curl'd fires: wee'l wake with our alarmes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ruine, where e're she sleepes at Nature's feet:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And crush the World till His wide corners meet.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XXXVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reply'd the proud king, O my crowne's defence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stay of my strong hopes, you of whose brave worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The frighted stars tooke faint experience,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When 'gainst the Thunder's mouth we marchèd forth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still you are prodigall of your Love's expence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In our great projects, both 'gainst Heav'n and Earth:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I thanke you all, but one must single out:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cruelty, she alone shall cure my doubt.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXVII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fourth of the cursèd knot of hags is shee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or rather all the other three in one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hell's shop of slaughter shee do's oversee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still assist the execution.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But chiefly there do's she delight to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Hell's capacious cauldron is set on:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And while the black soules boile in their own gore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To hold them down, and looke that none seeth o're.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XXXVIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrice howl'd the caves of Night, and thrice the sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thundring upon the bankes of those black lakes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rung through the hollow vaults of Hell profound:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last her listning eares the noise o're takes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She lifts her sooty lampes, and looking round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gen'rall hisse from the whole tire of snakes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rebounding, through Hell's inmost cavernes came,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In answer to her formidable name.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XXXIX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Mongst all the palaces in Hell's command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No one so mercilesse as this of her's.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The adamantine doors, for ever stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impenetrable, both to prai'rs and teares;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The walls inexorable steele, no hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Time, or teeth of hungry Ruine feares.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their ugly ornaments are the bloody staines<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of ragged limbs, torne sculls, and dasht-out braines.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XL.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There has the purple Vengeance a proud seat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose ever-brandisht sword is sheath'd in blood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About her Hate, Wrath, Warre and Slaughter sweat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bathing their hot limbs in life's pretious flood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There rude impetuous Rage do's storme and fret,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there as master of this murd'ring brood,<br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>scythe</i></span> +<span class="i1">Swinging a huge sith stands impartiall Death: <br /></span> +<span class="i1">With endlesse businesse almost out of breath.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XLI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For hangings and for curtaines, all along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The walls (abominable ornaments!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are tooles of wrath, anvills of torments hung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell executioners of foule intents,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nailes, hammers, hatchets sharpe, and halters strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swords, speares, with all the fatall instruments<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Sin and Death, twice dipt in the dire staines<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of brothers' mutuall blood, and fathers' braines.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XLII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tables furnisht with a cursèd feast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Harpyes, with leane Famine feed upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnfill'd for ever. Here among the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Inhumane Erisicthon too makes one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tantalus, Atreus, Progne, here are guests:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wolvish Lycaon here a place hath won.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cup they drinke in is Medusa's scull,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which mixt with gall and blood they quaffe brim-full.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XLIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The foule queen's most abhorrèd maids of honour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Medæa, Jezabell, many a meager witch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Circe, Scylla, stand to wait upon her:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But her best huswife's are the Parcæ, which<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still worke for her, and have their wages from her:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They prick a bleeding heart at every stitch.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her cruell cloathes of costly threds they weave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which short-cut lives of murdred infants leave.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XLIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="sidenote"><i>hearsed</i></span><span class="i0">The house is hers'd about with a black wood, <br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which nods with many a heavy-headed tree:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each flowers a pregnant poyson, try'd and good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each herbe a plague. The wind's sighes timèd bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By a black fount, which weeps into a flood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the thick shades obscurely might you see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Minotaures, Cyclopses, with a darke drove<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Dragons, Hydraes, Sphinxes, fill the grove.<br /></span> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span></p></div></div> + + +<h4>XLV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here Diomed's horses, Phereus' dogs appeare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the fierce lyons of Therodamas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Busiris has his bloody altar here:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here Sylla his severest prison has:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lestrigonians here their table reare:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here strong Procrustes plants his bed of brasse:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here cruell Scyron boasts his bloody rockes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hatefull Schinis his so fearèd oakes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XLVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What ever schemes of blood, fantastick Frames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of death, Mezentius or Geryon drew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phalaris, Ochus, Ezelinus: names<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mighty in mischiefe; with dread Nero too;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here are they all, here all the swords or flames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assyrian tyrants or Egyptian knew.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such was the house, so furnisht was the hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whence the fourth Fury answer'd Pluto's call.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XLVII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scarce to this monster could the shady king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The horrid summe of his intentions tell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But shee (swift as the momentary wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lightning, or the words he spoke) left Hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rose, and with her to our World did bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale proofe of her fell presence; th' aire too well<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With a chang'd countenance witnest the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And poore fowles intercepted in their flight.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XLVIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heav'n saw her rise, and saw Hell in the sight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fields' faire eyes saw her, and saw no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But shut their flowry lids for ever: Night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Winter strow her way: yea, such a sore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is she to Nature, that a generall fright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An universal palsie spreading o're<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The face of things, from her dire eyes had run,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had not her thick snakes hid them from the sun.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XLIX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now had the Night's companion from her dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where all the busie day she close doth ly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her soft wing wipt from the browes of men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day's sweat; and by a gentle tyranny<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweet oppression, kindly cheating them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all their cares, tam'd the rebellious eye<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Sorrow, with a soft and downy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sealing all brests in a Lethæan band.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>L.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the Erinnys her black pineons spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And came to Bethlem, where the cruell king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had now retyr'd himselfe, and borrowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His brest a while from Care's unquiet sting;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as at Thebes' dire feast she shew'd her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sulphur-breathèd torches brandishing:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such to the frighted palace now she comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And with soft feet searches the silent roomes.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>LI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By Herod___________________now was borne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scepter, which of old great David swaid;<br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>lineage</i></span> +<span class="i0">Whose right by David's linage so long worne, <br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himselfe a stranger to, his owne had made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the head of Judah's house quite torne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crowne, for which upon their necks he laid<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A sad yoake, under which they sigh'd in vaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And looking on their lost state sigh'd againe.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vp, through the spatious pallace passèd she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To where the king's proudly-reposèd head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(If any can be soft to Tyranny<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And selfe-tormenting sin) had a soft bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She thinkes not fit, such, he her face should see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As it is seene in Hell, and seen with dread.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To change her face's stile she doth devise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in a pale ghost's shape to spare his eyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her selfe a while she layes aside, and makes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ready to personate a mortall part.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ioseph, the king's dead brother's shape, she takes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What he by nature was, is she by art.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She comes to th' king, and with her cold hand slakes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His spirits (the sparkes of life) and chills his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life's forge; fain'd is her voice, and false too, be<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her words: 'sleep'st thou, fond man? sleep'st thou?' said she.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>LIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So sleeps a pilot, whose poore barke is prest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With many a mercylesse o're-mastring wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whom (as dead) the wrathfull winds contest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which of them deep'st shall digge her watry grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou let thy brave soule lye supprest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In death-like slumbers, while thy dangers crave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A waking eye and hand? looke vp and see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Fates ripe, in their great conspiracy.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Know'st thou not how of th' Hebrewes' royall stemme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(That old dry stocke) a despair'd branch is sprung:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A most strange Babe! Who here conceal'd by them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a neglected stable lies, among<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beasts and base straw: Already is the streame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite turn'd: th' ingratefull rebells, this their young<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Master (with voyce free as the trumpe of Fame)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their new King, and thy Successour proclame.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What busy motions, what wild engines stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On tiptoe in their giddy braynes! th' have fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already in their bosomes, and their hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already reaches at a sword; they hire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poysons to speed thee; yet through all the Land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What one comes to reveale what they conspire?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Goe now, make much of these; wage still their wars<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And bring home on thy brest, more thanklesse scarrs.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>LVII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why did I spend my life, and spill my blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thy firme hand for ever might sustaine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A well-pois'd scepter? does it now seeme good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy brother's blood be spilt, life spent in vaine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Gainst thy owne sons and brothers thou hast stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In armes, when lesser cause was to complaine:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And now crosse Fates a watch about thee keepe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can'st thou be carelesse now? now can'st thou sleep?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LVIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where art thou man? what cowardly mistake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy great selfe, hath stolne king Herod from thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O call thy selfe home to thy self, wake, wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fence the hanging sword Heav'n throws upon thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Redeeme a worthy wrath, rouse thee, and shake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy selfe into a shape that may become thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be Herod, and thou shalt not misse from mee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Immortall stings to thy great thoughts, and thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LIX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So said, her richest snake, which to her wrist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a beseeming bracelet she had ty'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(A speciall worme it was as ever kist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foamy lips of Cerberus) she apply'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the king's heart: the snake no sooner hist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Vertue heard it, and away she hy'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dire flames diffuse themselves through every veine:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This done, home to her Hell she hy'd amaine.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>LX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He wakes, and with him (ne're to sleepe) new feares:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sweat-bedewed bed hath now betraid him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a vast field of thornes; ten thousand speares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All pointed in his heart seem'd to invade him:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So mighty were th' amazing characters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which his feeling dreame had thus dismay'd him,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He his owne fancy-framèd foes defies:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In rage, My armes, give me my armes, he cryes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LXI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As when a pile of food-preparing fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The breath of artificiall lungs embraves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The caldron-prison'd waters streight conspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And beat the hot brasse with rebellious waves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He murmurs, and rebukes their bold desire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' impatient liquor frets, and foames, and raves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till his o're-flowing pride suppresse the flame<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whence all his high spirits and hot courage came.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LXII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So boyles the firèd Herod's blood-swolne brest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to be slak't but by a sea of blood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His faithlesse crowne he feeles loose on his crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which a false tyrant's head ne're firmely stood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The worme of jealous envy and unrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which his gnaw'd heart is the growing food,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Makes him, impatient of the lingring light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hate the sweet peace of all-composing Night.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>LXIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A thousand prophecies that talke strange things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had sowne of old these doubts in his deepe brest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now of late came tributary kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bringing him nothing but new feares from th' East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More deepe suspicions, and more deadly stings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which his feav'rous cares their cold increast.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And now his dream (Hel's fireband) still more bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shew'd him his feares, and kill'd him with the sight.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LXIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No sooner therefore shall the Morning see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Night hangs yet heavy on the lids of Day)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all the counsellours must summon'd bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet their troubled lord: without delay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heralds and messengers immediately<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are sent about, who poasting every way<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To th' heads and officers of every band,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Declare who sends, and what is his command.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>LXV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why art thou troubled, Herod? what vaine feare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy blood-revolving brest to rage doth move?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven's King, Who doffs Himselfe weak flesh to weare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes not to rule in wrath, but serve in love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor would He this thy fear'd crown from thee teare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But give thee a better with Himselfe above.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Poor jealousie! why should He wish to prey<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vpon thy crowne, Who gives His owne away?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>LXVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Make to thy reason, man, and mock thy doubts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looke how below thy feares their causes are;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art a souldier, Herod; send thy scouts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See how Hee's furnish't for so fear'd a warre?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What armour does He weare? A few thin clouts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His trumpets? tender cries; His men to dare<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So much? rude shepheards: what His steeds? alas<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Poore beasts! a slow oxe and a simple asse.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="right"> +<i>Il fine del primo Libro.</i><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>See our Essay for critical remarks on the original and <span class="smcap">Crashaw's</span> +interpretation. These things may be recorded:</p> + +<p>St. viii. line 6. '(His shop of flames) he <i>fries</i> himself.' +This verb 'fries,' like 'stick' and some others, had not in Elizabethan +times and later, that colloquial, and therefore in such +a context ludicrous, sound that it has to us. In <span class="smcap">Marlowe's</span> +or <span class="smcap">Jonson's</span> translation of Ovid's fifteenth elegy (book i.) the +two lines which originally ran thus,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Lofty Lucretius shall live that hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Nature shall dissolve this earthly bower,'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>were afterwards altered by <span class="smcap">Jonson</span> himself to,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Then shall Lucretius' lofty numbers die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When earth and seas in fire and flame shall <i>frie</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In another way one of our most ludicrous-serious experiences +of printers' errors was in a paper contributed by us to an American +religious periodical. The subject was Affliction, and we +remarked that God still, as of old with the 'three children' (so-called) +permits His people to be put into the furnace of 'fiery +trials,' wherein He <i>tries</i> them whether they be ore or dross. +To our horror we found the <i>t</i> changed into <i>f</i>, and so read sensationally +'<i>fries</i>'—all the worse that some might think it the +author's own word.</p> + +<p>St. xxviii. and xxx. The star Lucifer or Phosporos, to whom +'the droves of stars that guild the morn, in charge were given,'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> +can never climb the North or reach the zenith, being conquered +by the effulgence of the sun of day. When did the fable of the +angel Lucifer, founded on an astronomical appearance, mingle +itself as it has done here, and grandly in <span class="smcap">Milton</span>, and in the +popular mind generally, with the biblical history of Satan?</p> + +<p>St. xxxvi. line 2. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> perpetuates the misprint of +'whose' for 'my' from 1670.</p> + +<p>St. li. line 3, 'linage' = 'lineage.' For once 1670 is correct +in reading 'linage' for the misprint 'image' of 1646 and 1648. +The original is literally as follows:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Herod the liege of Augustus, a man now agèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then ruled over the royal courts of David:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not of the royal <i>line</i> ...'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>St. lix. line 3, 'a special worm:' so <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> (Ant. and +Cleopatra, v. 2), 'the pretty worm' and 'the worm.'</p> + +<p>St. lx. Every one will be reminded of the tent-scene in +Richard III.</p> + +<p>At end of this translation <span class="smcap">Peregrine Phillips</span> adds 'cetera +desunt—heu! heu!'</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marino</span> and <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> have left proper names in the poem unannotated. +They are mostly trite; but these may be noticed: st. +xlii. l. 4, Erisichton (see Ovid, <i>Met.</i> viii. 814 &c.); he offended +Ceres, and was by her punished with continual hunger, so that he +devoured his own limbs: line 5, Tantalus the fabled son of Zeus +and Pluto, whose doom in the 'lower world,' has been celebrated +from Homer (<i>Od.</i> xi. 582) onward: ib. Atreus, grandson of +Tantalus, immortalised in infamy with his brother Thyestes: ib. +Progne = Procne, wife of Tereus, who was metamorphosed into +a swallow (Apollod. iii. 14, 8): l. 6, Lycaon, like Tantalus, with +his sons changed by Zeus into wolves (Ovid; Paus. viii. 3, § 1): +st. xliii. line 2, Medea, most famous of the mythical sorcerers: +ib. Jezebel, 2 Kings ix. 10, 36: line 3, Circe, another mythical +sorceress: Scylla, daughter of Typho and rival of Circe, who +transformed her (Ovid, <i>Met.</i> xiv. 1-74); cf. Paradise Lost: +line 4, the Paræ = the Fates, ever spinning: st. xliv. lines 7-8, +all classic monsters: st. xlv. line 1, 'Diomed's horses' = the +fabled 'mares' fed on human flesh (Apollod. ii. 5, § 8): 'Phereus' +dogs,' or Fereus of mythical celebrity: line 2, Therodamas +or Theromedon, king of Scythia, who fed lions with human +blood (Ovid, <i>Ibis</i> 385, <i>Pont.</i> i. 2, 121): line 3, Busiris, associated +with Osiris of Egypt; but Herodotus denies that the Egyptians<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> +ever offered human sacrifices: line 4, Sylla = Sulla: line +5, Lestrigonians, ancient inhabitants of Sicily who fed on human +flesh (Ovid, <i>Met.</i> xiv. 233, &c.): line 6, Procrustes, <i>i.e.</i> the +Stretcher, being a surname of the famous robber Damastes +(Ovid, <i>Met.</i> vii. 438): line 7, Scyron, or Sciron (Ovid, <i>Met.</i> vii. +444-447), who threw his captives from the rocks: line 8, Schinis, +more accurately Sinis or Sinnis, a celebrated robber, his name +being connected with [Greek: σίνομαι], expressing the manner in which he +tore his victims to pieces by tying them to branches of two +trees, which he bent together and then let go (Ovid, <i>Met.</i> vii. +440); according to some he was surnamed Procrustes, but <span class="smcap">Marino</span> +and <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> distinguish the two: st. xlvi. line 2, Mezentius, a +mythical king of the Etruscans (Virgil, <i>Æneid</i>, viii. 480, &c.); +he put men to death by tying them to a corpse: ib. Geryon, a +fabulous king of Hesperia (Apollod. ii. 5, § 10); under this +name the very reverend Dr. J.H. Newman has composed one +of his most remarkable poems: line 3, Phalaris, <i>the</i> tyrant of +Sicily, whose 'brazen bull' of torture gave point to Cicero's +words concerning him, as 'crudelissimus omnium tyrannorum' +(in Verr. iv. 33): ib. Ochus = Artaxerxes III. a merciless king +of Persia: ib. Ezelinus or Ezzelinus, another wicked tyrant.</p> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_j.png" width="200" height="158" alt="Decoration J" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_HYMN_OF_SAINTE_THOMAS" id="THE_HYMN_OF_SAINTE_THOMAS"></a>THE HYMN OF SAINTE THOMAS,</h2> + +<p class="center">IN ADORATION OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT.<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a></p> + + +<h4>Ecce panis Angelorum,<br /> +Adoro te.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With all the powres my poor heart hath<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of humble loue and loyall faith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus lowe (my hidden life!) I bow to Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom too much loue hath bow'd more low for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down, down, proud Sense! discourses dy!<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep close, my soul's inquiring ey!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not touch, nor tast, must look for more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But each sitt still in his own dore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Your ports are all superfluous here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saue that which lets in Faith, the eare.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith is my skill: Faith can beleiue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As fast as Loue new lawes can giue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith is my force: Faith strength affords<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep pace with those powrfull words.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And words more sure, more sweet then they,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loue could not think, Truth could not say.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O let Thy wretch find that releife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou didst afford the faithful theife.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plead for me, Loue! alleage and show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Faith has farther here to goe<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>then</i></span> +<span class="i0">And lesse to lean on: because than <br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though hidd as God, wounds with Thee man:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thomas might touch, none but might see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At least the suffring side of Thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that too was Thy self which Thee did couer,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But here eu'n that's hid too which hides the other.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Sweet, consider then, that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though allow'd nor hand nor eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To reach at Thy lou'd face; nor can<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tast Thee God, or touch Thee man,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both yet beleiue; and witnesse Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Lord too and my God, as lowd as he.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Help, Lord, my faith, my hope increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fill my portion in Thy peace:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giue loue for life; nor let my dayes<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grow, but in new powres to Thy name and praise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O dear memoriall of that Death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which liues still, and allowes vs breath!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich, royall food! Bountyfull bread!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose vse denyes vs to the dead;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose vitall gust alone can giue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same leaue both to eat and liue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liue euer bread of loues, and be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My life, my soul, my surer-selfe to mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O soft self-wounding Pelican!<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose brest weepes balm for wounded man:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! this way bend Thy benign floud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a bleeding heart that gaspes for blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That blood, whose least drops soueraign be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wash my worlds of sins from me.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come Loue! come Lord! and that long day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For which I languish, come away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When this dry soul those eyes shall see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drink the vnseal'd sourse of Thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Glory's sun, Faith's shades shall chase,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for Thy veil giue me Thy face. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The original title is 'A Hymne to our Saviour by the Faithfull +Receiver of the Sacrament.' As before in the title of 'The +Weeper' 'Sainte' is misspelled 'Sanite.'</p> + +<p>Line 1 in 1648 reads 'power.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 8, 'sitt still in his own dore.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 9, 'ports' = openings or gates. So in Edinburgh the +'West-port' = a gate of the city in the old west wall.</span><br /> +Line 21, 'than' = 'then.' See our <span class="smcap">Phineas Fletcher</span>, as +before.<br /> +Line 29, <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> leaves undetected the 1670 misprint of +'teach' for 'reach.'<br /> +Line 33, 1648 supplies 'my faith,' which in our text is inadvertently +dropped; 1670 continues the error, which of course +<span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> repeated.<br /> +Line 36, 1670 edition reads 'Grow, but in new pow'rs to +name thy Praise.'<br /> +Lines 37-38 are inadvertently omitted in 1648 edition.</p> + +<p>Our text, as will be seen, is arranged in stanzas of irregular +form. In 1648 edition it is one continuous poem thus printed:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">——————————<br /></span> +<span class="i1">——————————<br /></span> +<span class="i0">——————————<br /></span> +<span class="i1">—————————— G.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span></div></div> + + + + +<h2><a name="LAVDA_SION_SALVATOREM" id="LAVDA_SION_SALVATOREM"></a>LAVDA SION SALVATOREM:</h2> + +<p class="center">THE HYMN FOR THE BL. SACRAMENT.<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a></p> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Rise, royall Sion! rise and sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soul's kind shepheard, thy hart's King.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stretch all thy powres; call if you can<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harpes of heaun to hands of man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This soueraign subject sitts aboue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best ambition of thy loue.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lo, the Bread of Life, this day's<br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>incites</i></span> +<span class="i0">Triumphant text, prouokes thy prayse: <br /></span> +<span class="i0">The liuing and life-giuing bread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the great twelue distributed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Life, Himself, at point to dy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of loue, was His Own legacy.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Come, Loue! and let vs work a song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lowd and pleasant, sweet and long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let lippes and hearts lift high the noise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of so iust and solemn ioyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which on His white browes this bright day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall hence for euer bear away.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span></p> + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lo, the new law of a new Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a new Lamb blesses the board:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The agèd Pascha pleads not yeares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But spyes Loue's dawn, and disappeares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Types yield to truthes; shades shrink away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their Night dyes into our Day.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But lest that dy too, we are bid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Euer to doe what He once did:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by a mindfull, mystick breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we may liue, reuiue His death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a well-bles't bread and wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transsum'd and taught to turn diuine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The Heaun-instructed house of Faith<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here a holy dictate hath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That they but lend their form and face;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Themselues with reuerence leaue their place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature, and name, to be made good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By a nobler bread, more needfull blood.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Where Nature's lawes no leaue will giue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bold Faith takes heart, and dares beleiue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In different species: name not things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himself to me my Saviovr brings;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As meat in that, as drink in this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still in both one Christ He is.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The receiuing mouth here makes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wound nor breach in what he takes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let one, or one thovsand be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here diuiders, single he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beares home no lesse, all they no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor leaue they both lesse then before.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Though in it self this soverain Feast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be all the same to euery guest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet on the same (life-meaning) Bread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child of death eates himself dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor is't Loue's fault, but Sin's dire skill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thus from Life can death distill.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>X.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">When the blest signes thou broke shalt see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hold but thy faith intire as He<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, howsoe're clad, cannot come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lesse then whole Christ in euery crumme.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In broken formes a stable Faith<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vntouch't her precious totall hath.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So the life-food of angells then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd to the lowly mouths of men!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The children's Bread, the Bridegroom's Wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to be cast to dogges, or swine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lo, the full, finall Sacrifice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which all figures fix't their eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ransom'd Isack, and his ramme;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The manna, and the paschal lamb.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Iesv Master, iust and true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our food, and faithfull Shephard too!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O by Thy self vouchsafe to keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with Thy selfe Thou feed'st Thy sheep.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O let that loue which thus makes Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mix with our low mortality,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lift our lean soules, and sett vs vp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Con-victors of Thine Own full cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coheirs of saints. That so all may<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink the same wine; and the same way:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor change the pastvre, but the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To feed of Thee, in Thine Own face. Amen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES.</p> + +<p>In 1648, line 3 has 'thou' for 'you:' line 4 'and' for 'to:' +line 6, 'ambitious:' line 19, 'Lord' is misprinted 'Law:' line +39, 'names:' line 42 spells 'one' as 'on:' line 55, our text +(1652) misprints 'shall:' line 75, 1648 reads 'mean' for 'lean.' +G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="PRAYER" id="PRAYER"></a>PRAYER:</h2> + +<p class="center">AN ODE WHICH WAS PRÆFIXED TO A LITTLE PRAYER-BOOK +GIVEN TO A YOUNG GENTLE-WOMAN.<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a></p> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo here a little volume, but great book!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">(Feare it not, sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It is no hipocrit)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much larger in itselfe then in its looke.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A nest of new-born sweets;<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whose natiue fires disdaining<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To ly thus folded, and complaining<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of these ignoble sheets,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Affect more comly bands<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(Fair one) from thy kind hands;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And confidently look<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To find the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a rich binding in your brest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is, in one choise handfull, Heauvn; and all<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span><span class="i0">Heaun's royall host; incampt thus small<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To proue that true, Schooles vse to tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand angels in one point can dwell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is Loue's great artillery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which here contracts it self, and comes to ly<span class="linenum">19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close-couch't in your white bosom; and from thence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from a snowy fortresse of defence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the ghostly foes to take your part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fortify the hold of your chast heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is an armory of light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let constant vse but keep it bright,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">You'l find it yields<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To holy hands and humble hearts<br /></span> +<span class="i4">More swords and sheilds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sin hath snares, or Hell hath darts.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Only be sure<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">The hands be pure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hold these weapons; and the eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those of turtles, chast and true;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Wakefull and wise:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here is a freind shall fight for you;<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hold but this book before your heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let prayer alone to play his part;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But O the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That studyes this high art<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Must be a sure house-keeper:<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And yet no sleeper.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dear soul, be strong!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Mercy will come e're long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring his bosome fraught with blessings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flowers of neuer-fading graces<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make immortall dressings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For worthy soules, whose wise embraces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Store vp themselues for Him, Who is alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Spovse of virgins and the virgin's Son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if the noble Bridegroom, when He come,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall find the loytering heart from home;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Leauing her chast aboad<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To gadde abroad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the gay mates of the god of flyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To take her pleasure, and to play<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And keep the deuill's holyday;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dance in th' sunshine of some smiling<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But beguiling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spheare of sweet and sugred lyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Some slippery pair<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of false, perhaps, as fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flattering but forswearing, eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubtlesse some other heart<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Will gett the start<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile, and stepping in before<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will take possession of that sacred store<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hidden sweets and holy ioyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Words which are not heard with eares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Those tumultuous shops of noise)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Effectuall whispers, whose still voice<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul it selfe more feeles then heares;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amorous languishments; luminous trances;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sights which are not seen with eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spirituall and soul-peircing glances<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose pure and subtil lightning flyes<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home to the heart, and setts the house on fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And melts it down in sweet desire<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Yet doth not stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To ask the windows' leaue, to passe that way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delicious deaths; soft exalations<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of soul; dear and diuine annihilations;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A thousand vnknown rites<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ioyes and rarefy'd delights;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred thousand goods, glories, and graces:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And many a mystick thing<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which the diuine embraces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the deare Spouse of spirits, with them will bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For which it is no shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dull mortality must not know a name.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of all this hidden store<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of blessings, and ten thousand more<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(If when He come<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He find the heart from home)<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Doubtlesse He will vnload<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Himself some other where,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And poure abroad<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His pretious sweets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the fair soul whom first He meets.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fair, O fortunate! O riche! O dear!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O happy and thrice-happy she<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deare silver-breasted dove<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who ere she be,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whose early loue<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With wingèd vowes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes hast to meet her morning Spouse,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And close with His immortall kisses.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy indeed, who neuer misses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To improue that pretious hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And euery day<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Seize her sweet prey,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All fresh and fragrant as He rises,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropping with a baulmy showr,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A delicious dew of spices;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O let the blissfull heart hold it fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her heaunly arm-full; she shall tast<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At once ten thousand paradises;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">She shall haue power<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To rifle and deflour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rich and roseall spring of those rare sweets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which with a swelling bosome there she meets:<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Boundles and infinite ___________<br /></span> +<span class="i0">___________ Bottomles treasures<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pure inebriating pleasures.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy proof! she shal discouer<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What ioy, what blisse,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many heau'ns at once it is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To haue her God become her Lover.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The text of 1648 corresponds pretty closely, except in the +usual changes of orthography, with our text (1652): and 1670, +in like manner, follows that of 1646. 1646 edition furnishes +some noticeable variations:</p> + +<p>Line 1, 'large' for 'great.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 2-4 restored to their place here. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> gives them +in a foot-note with this remark: 'So in the Paris edition of +1652. In all the others,</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Fear it not, sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It is no hypocrite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much larger in itself, than in its book.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This is a mistake. The only edition that omits the lines (5-13) +besides the first (1646) and substitutes these three is that of 1670.</p> + +<p>Lines 5-13 not in 1646 edition: first appeared in 1648 edition.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 14, 'choise' for 'rich.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 15, 'hoasts' for 'host.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 17, 'Ten thousand.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 20. Our text (1652) here and elsewhere misreads 'their:' +silently corrected.</span><br /> +Line 22. Our text (1652) misprints 'their' for 'the:' as +'the' is the reading of 1648 and 1670, I have adopted it.<br /> +Line 24, 'the' for 'an.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 27, 'hand' for 'hands.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 37, 1648 edition has 'its' for 'his.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 44. Our text (1652) oddly misprints 'besom' for 'bosome:' +the latter reading in 1646, 1648 and 1670 vindicates +itself. 1646 reads 'her' and 1648 'its' for 'his.'</span><br /> +Line 50, 'comes' for 'come.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 51, 'wandring' for 'loytering.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 54. The allusion is to one of the names of Satan, viz. +Baal-zebub = fly-god, dunghill-god.</span><br /> +Line 55, 'pleasures.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 57. Our text (1652) inadvertently drops 'in.' 1648 +has 'i' th'.'</span><br /> +Line 59. Our text misprints 'spheares:' 1648 adopts +'spheare' from 1646 edition. 1670 misprints 'spear.'<br /> +Line 62, 'forswearing:' a classic word.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 64, 'git' is the spelling.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 65. All the editions save our text (1652) omit 'meanwhile.'</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> +Line 66, 'the' for 'that.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 69, 'These' for 'Those,' by mistake.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 78, 'doth' for 'does' I have adopted here.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 83, 1648, by misprint, has 'O' for 'Of.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 84, 'An hundred thousand loves and graces.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 90. I have accepted 'hidden' before 'store' from 1646 +edition.</span><br /> +Line 101. I have also adopted this characteristic line from +1646 edition. In all the others (except 1670) it is 'Selected +dove.'<br /> +Line 107, 'soule' for 'indeed.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 114, 'that' for 'the.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 121-122. In 1648 printed as <i>supra</i>, the lines probably +indicating a blank where the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> was illegible. In our text +(1652) we have two lines, but no blank indicated.</span><br /> +Line 124, 'soul' for 'proof.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 127, 'a' for 'her.' G.</span> +</p> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="TO_THE_SAME_PARTY" id="TO_THE_SAME_PARTY"></a>TO THE SAME PARTY:</h2> + +<p class="center">COVNCEL CONCERNING HER CHOISE.<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear, Heaun-designèd sovl!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Amongst the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of suters that beseige your maiden brest,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Why may not I<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My fortune try<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And venture to speak one good word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not for my self, alas! but for my dearer Lord?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have seen allready, in this lower sphear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of froth and bubbles, what to look for here:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, gentle soul, what can you find<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">But painted shapes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Peacocks and apes;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Illustrious flyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guilded dunghills, glorious lyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Goodly surmises<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">And deep disguises,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oathes of water, words of wind?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trvth biddes me say 'tis time you cease to trust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your soul to any son of dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis time you listen to a brauer loue,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which from aboue<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Calls you vp higher<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And biddes you come<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And choose your roome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among His own fair sonnes of fire;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Where you among<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The golden throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That watches at His palace doores<br /></span> +<span class="i4">May passe along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And follow those fair starres of your's;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Starrs much too fair and pure to wait vpon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The false smiles of a sublunary sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet, let me prophesy that at last t'will proue<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Your wary loue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Layes vp his purer and more pretious vowes,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And meanes them for a farre more worthy Spovse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then this World of lyes can giue ye:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eu'n for Him with Whom nor cost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor loue, nor labour can be lost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him Who neuer will deceiue ye.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not my Lord, the mighty Louer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of soules, disdain that I discouer<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The hidden art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of His high stratagem to win your heart:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It was His heaunly art<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Kindly to cross you<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In your mistaken loue;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That, at the next remoue<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thence, He might tosse you<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And strike your troubled heart<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home to Himself; to hide it in His brest:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The bright ambrosiall nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Loue, of life, and euerlasting rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Happy mystake!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That thus shall wake<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your wise soul, neuer to be wonne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now with a loue below the sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your first choyce failes; O when you choose agen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May it not be amongst the sonnes of men.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first line, 'To Mistress M.R.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear, Heav'n-designed soul,'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>as in 1670, is not to be considered as an unrhymed line, but as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> +the address or superscription, though so contrived as not to interfere +with the metre, but to make a five-foot line with the two +feet of the true first line of the poem. So Parolles prefaces +his verse with</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Dian, the count's a fool and full of gold.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="right"> +(<i>All's Well that ends Well</i>, iv. 3.)<br /> +</p> + +<p>and Longaville (<i>Love's Labour Lost</i>) prefixes to his sonnet,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O sweet Maria, empress of my love.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In fact, it is the 'Madam' of a poetical epistle brought into +metrical harmony with the verse. G.</p> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="DESCRIPTION_OF_A_RELIGIOVS_HOVSE" id="DESCRIPTION_OF_A_RELIGIOVS_HOVSE"></a>DESCRIPTION OF A RELIGIOVS HOVSE +AND CONDITION OF LIFE.</h2> + +<p class="center">(OVT OF BARCLAY.)<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No roofes of gold o're riotous tables shining<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whole dayes and suns, deuour'd with endlesse dining.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sailes of Tyrian sylk, proud pauements sweeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor iuory couches costlyer slumber keeping;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">False lights of flairing gemmes; tumultuous ioyes;<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Halls full of flattering men and frisking boyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What'ere false showes of short and slippery good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mix the mad sons of men in mutuall blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But walkes, and vnshorn woods; and soules, iust so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnforc't and genuine; but not shady tho.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our lodgings hard and homely as our fare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That chast and cheap, as the few clothes we weare.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those, course and negligent, as the naturall lockes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of these loose groues; rough as th' vnpolish't rockes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hasty portion of præscribèd sleep;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Obedient slumbers, that can wake and weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sing, and sigh, and work, and sleep again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still rowling a round spear of still-returning pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hands full of harty labours; paines that pay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prize themselves: doe much, that more they may,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And work for work, not wages; let to-morrow's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New drops, wash off the sweat of this daye's sorrows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A long and dayly-dying life, which breaths<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A respiration of reuiuing deaths.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But neither are there those ignoble stings<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That nip the blossome of the World's best things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lash Earth-labouring souls....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No cruell guard of diligent cares, that keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown'd woes awake, as things too wise for sleep:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But reuerent discipline, and religious fear,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soft obedience, find sweet biding here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silence, and sacred rest; peace, and pure ioyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kind loues keep house, ly close, make no noise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And room enough for monarchs, while none swells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the kingdomes of contentfull cells.<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The self-remembring sovl sweetly recouers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her kindred with the starrs; not basely houers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below: but meditates her immortall way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home to the originall sourse of Light and intellectuall day<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In 1648 the heading is simply 'Description of a religious +house.' The original occurs in <span class="smcap">Barclay's</span> <i>Argenis</i>, book v. +These variations include one important correction of a long-standing +blunder:<br /> +Line 3, 1648 misprints 'weeping' for 'sweeping.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 4, 'costly' for 'costlyer.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 6, 'flatt'ring' for 'flattering.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 19-20. Our text (1652), followed by 1670, strangely confuses +this couplet by printing,</span> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Hands full of harty labours; doe much, that more they may.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>, as usual, unintelligently repeats the blunder. Even +in using the text of 1652 exceptionally, if only he found it confirmed +by 1670, there was no vigilance. The reading of 1648 +puts all right.<br /> +Line 23. Our text misspells 'ding.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 26. Misprinted 'bosome' in all the editions, and perpetuated +by <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>. Line 27 that follows is a break (unrhymed).</span><br /> +Line 33. 1648 misreads 'keep no noise.' G.</p> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="ON_MR_GEORGE_HERBERTS_BOOKE_INTITULED" id="ON_MR_GEORGE_HERBERTS_BOOKE_INTITULED"></a>ON MR. GEORGE HERBERT'S BOOKE INTITULED +THE TEMPLE OF SACRED POEMS.</h2> + +<p class="center">SENT TO A GENTLE-WOMAN.<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Know you, faire, on what you looke?<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Divinest love lyes in this booke:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expecting fier from your faire eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To kindle this his sacrifice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When your hands untie these strings,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think, yo' have an angell by the wings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One that gladly would be nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To waite upon each morning sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To flutter in the balmy aire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your well-perfumèd praier;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These white plumes of his hee'l lend you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which every day to Heaven will send you:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To take acquaintance of each spheare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all your smooth-fac'd kindred there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though <span class="smcap">Herbert's</span> name doe owe<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These devotions; fairest, know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I thus lay them on the shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your white hand, they are mine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_j.png" width="200" height="158" alt="Decoration J" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="A_HYMN_TO_THE_NAME_AND_HONOR_OF" id="A_HYMN_TO_THE_NAME_AND_HONOR_OF"></a>A HYMN TO THE NAME AND HONOR OF +THE ADMIRABLE SAINTE TERESA:</h2> + + +<blockquote><p>Fovndresse of the Reformation of the discalced Carmelites, +both men and women; a Woman for angelicall heigth of +speculation, for masculine courage of performance more +then a woman: who yet a child, out-ran maturity, and +durst plott a Martyrdome;</p> + +<p class="center">Misericordias Domini in Æternvm cantabo.</p> + +<p>Le Vray portraict de S<sup>te</sup> Terese, Fondatrice des Religieuses et +Religieux reformez de l'ordre de N. Dame du mont Carmel: +Decedee le 4<sup>e</sup> Octo. 1582. Canonisee le 12<sup>e</sup> Mars. 1622.<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></p></blockquote> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Hymne.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loue, thou art absolute, sole lord<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of life and death. To proue the word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wee'l now appeal to none of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those thy old souldiers, great and tall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ripe men of martyrdom, that could reach down<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With strong armes, their triumphant crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as could with lusty breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak lowd into the face of death,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their great Lord's glorious name, to none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those whose spatious bosomes spread a throne<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Love at large to fill; spare blood and sweat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see him take a priuate seat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making his mansion in the mild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And milky soul of a soft child.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scarse has she learn't to lisp the name<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of martyr; yet she thinks it shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life should so long play with that breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which spent can buy so braue a death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She neuer vndertook to know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What Death with Loue should haue to doe;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor has she e're yet vnderstood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why to show loue, she should shed blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet though she cannot tell you why<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She can love, and she can dy.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scarse has she blood enough to make<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A guilty sword blush for her sake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet has she a heart dares hope to proue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How much lesse strong is Death then Love.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be Loue but there; let poor six yeares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be pos'd with the maturest feares<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man trembles at, you straight shall find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love knowes no nonage, nor the mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis love, not yeares or limbs that can<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make the martyr, or the man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love touch't her heart, and lo it beates<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">High, and burnes with such braue heates;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such thirsts to dy, as dares drink vp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand cold deaths in one cup.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good reason: for she breathes all fire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her white brest heaues with strong desire<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of what she may with fruitles wishes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seek for amongst her mother's kisses.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since 'tis not to be had at home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'l trauail to a martyrdom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No home for hers confesses she<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where she may a martyr be.<br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>Moors</i></span> +<span class="i1">She'l to the Moores; and trade with them <br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this vnualued diadem:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'l offer them her dearest breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Christ's name in't, in change for death:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'l bargain with them; and will giue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Them God; teach them how to liue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Him: or, if they this deny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Him she'l teach them how to dy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So shall she leaue amongst them sown<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>least</i></span> +<span class="i0">Her Lord's blood; or at lest her own. <br /></span> +<span class="i1">Farewel then, all the World! adieu!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teresa is no more for you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell, all pleasures, sports, and ioyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Never till now esteemèd toyes)<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell, what ever deare may bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother's armes or father's knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell house, and farewell home!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's for the Moores, and martyrdom.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet, not so fast! lo thy fair Spouse<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom thou seekst with so swift vowes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calls thee back, and bidds thee come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T'embrace a milder martyrdom.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blest powres forbid, thy tender life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should bleed vpon a barbarous knife:<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or some base hand haue power to raze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy brest's chast cabinet, and vncase<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul kept there so sweet: O no,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise Heaun will neuer have it so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art Love's victime; and must dy<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A death more mysticall and high:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into Loue's armes thou shalt let fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A still-suruiuing funerall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His is the dart must make the death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose stroke shall tast thy hallow'd breath;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dart thrice dip't in that rich flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which writes thy Spouse's radiant name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon the roof of Heau'n, where ay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shines; and with a soueraign ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beates bright vpon the burning faces<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of soules which in that Name's sweet graces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find euerlasting smiles: so rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So spirituall, pure, and fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must be th' immortall instrument<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon whose choice point shall be sent<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A life so lou'd: and that there be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fitt executioners for thee,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fair'st and first-born sons of fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest seraphim, shall leaue their quire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn Loue's souldiers, vpon thee<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To exercise their archerie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O how oft shalt thou complain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a sweet and subtle pain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of intolerable ioyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a death, in which who dyes<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loues his death, and dyes again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And would for euer so be slain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And liues, and dyes; and knowes not why<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To liue, but that he thus may neuer leaue to dy.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How kindly will thy gentle heart<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kisse the sweetly-killing dart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And close in his embraces keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those delicious wounds, that weep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Balsom to heal themselves with: thus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When these thy deaths, so numerous<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall all at last dy into one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And melt thy soul's sweet mansion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a soft lump of incense, hasted<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By too hott a fire, and wasted<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into perfuming clouds, so fast<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shalt thou exhale to Heaun at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a resoluing sigh, and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O what? Ask not the tongues of men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Angells cannot tell; suffice<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span> +<span class="i0">Thy selfe shall feel thine own full ioyes,<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hold them fast for euer there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So soon as thou shalt first appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon of maiden starrs, thy white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mistresse, attended by such bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soules as thy shining self, shall come<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in her first rankes make thee room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where 'mongst her snowy family<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immortall wellcomes wait for thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O what delight, when reueal'd Life shall stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And teach thy lipps Heaun with His hand;<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which thou now maist to thy wishes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heap vp thy consecrated kisses.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What ioyes shall seize thy soul, when she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bending her blessed eyes on Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Those second smiles of Heau'n,) shall dart<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her mild rayes through Thy melting heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad at their own home now to meet thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All thy good workes which went before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waited for thee, at the door,<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall own thee there; and all in one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weaue a constellation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of crowns, with which the King thy Spouse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall build vp thy triumphant browes.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All thy old woes shall now smile on thee,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy paines sitt bright vpon thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All thy sorrows here shall shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All thy svfferings be diuine:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teares shall take comfort, and turn gemms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wrongs repent to diademms.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eu'n thy death shall liue; and new-<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dresse the soul that erst he slew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy wounds shall blush to such bright scarres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As keep account of the Lamb's warres.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those rare workes where thou shalt leaue writt<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loue's noble history, with witt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taught thee by none but Him, while here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They feed our soules, shall clothe thine there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each heaunly word, by whose hid flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our hard hearts shall strike fire, the same<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall flourish on thy browes, and be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both fire to vs and flame to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose light shall liue bright in thy face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By glory, in our hearts by grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou shalt look round about, and see<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thousands of crown'd soules throng to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Themselues thy crown: sons of thy vowes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The virgin-births with which thy soueraign Spouse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made fruitfull thy fair soul. Goe now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with them all about thee, bow<span class="linenum">170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Him; put on (Hee'l say) put on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(My rosy loue) that thy rich zone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sparkling with the sacred flames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thousand soules, whose happy names<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heau'n keep vpon thy score: (Thy bright<span class="linenum">175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life brought them first to kisse the light,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That kindled them to starrs,) and so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou with the Lamb, thy Lord, shalt goe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whereso'ere He setts His white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stepps, walk with Him those wayes of light,<span class="linenum">180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which who in death would liue to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must learn in life to dy like thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The original edition (1646) has this title, 'In memory of +the Vertuous and Learned Lady Madre de Teresa, that sought +an early Martyrdome;' and so also in 1648. 1670 agrees with +1652; only the Latin line above the portrait and the French +verses are omitted.</p> + +<p>The text of 1646 furnishes a number of variations corrective +in part of all the subsequent editions. These are recorded +below. 1648 agrees substantially with 1652: but a few unimportant +readings peculiar to it are also given in these Notes.</p> + +<p><i>Various readings from 1646 edition.</i></p> + +<p> +Line 3, 'Wee need to goe to none of all.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 4, 'stout' for 'great.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 5, 'ripe and full growne.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 8, 'unto' for 'into;' the latter preferable.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 10, 'Of those whose large breasts built a throne.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 11-13,</span> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'For Love their Lord, glorious and great<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weel see Him take a private seat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make ...'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I have hesitated whether this ought not to have been adopted +as our text; but it is a characteristic of <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> to introduce +abruptly long and short lines as in our text, and to carry a +thought or metaphor through a number of lines.</p> + +<p> +Line 15, 'had' for 'has,' and 'a' for 'the.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 21, 'hath,' and so in 1648 edition.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 23, our text (1652) misprints 'enough:' I correct from 1648.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 25, 'had,' 1648 'hath.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 27, 1648, 'hath.'</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 31, 'wee' for 'you.'</span><br /> +Line 37, 'thirst' for 'thirsts,' and 'dare' for 'dares.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 38 spells 'coled.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 40, 'weake' for 'white;' the latter a favourite epithet +with <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>: 1648 'weake.'</span><br /> +Line 43, 1648 drops 'at' inadvertently.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 44 spells 'travell:' 1648 has 'for' instead of 'to.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 45, 'her,' by misprint for 'her's.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 47, 1648 has 'try' for 'trade.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 49, 'Shee offers.' 57 spells 'adeiu.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 61, this line is by oversight dropped from our text +(1652).</span><br /> +Line 70, spelled 'barborous' in our text, but I have adopted +'a' from 1646 and 1648.<br /> +Line 71, 'race' for 'raze;' a common contemporary spelling.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 77, 'hand' for 'armes.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 93, 'The fairest, and the first borne Loves of fire.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 94, 'Seraphims,' the usual misspelling of the plural +of seraph in our English Bible.</span><br /> +Line 104, 'To live, but that he still may dy.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 106, our text (1652) misreads 'sweetly-kissing.' I +have adopted 'sweetly-killing' from 1646, 1648 and 1670.</span><br /> +Line 108, 1648 has 'thine' for 'his.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 118, 'disolving.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 123, our text (1652) inadvertently drops 'shalt,' and +misreads 'you' for 'thou.' I accept the text of 1646, 1648 +and 1670.</span><br /> +Line 129, 'on.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 130, 'shee' for 'reueal'd Life;' and in next line 'her' +for 'His.' Our text (1652) is preferable, as pointing to Christ +the Life, our Life. See under lines 11-13.</span><br /> +Line 133, 'joy.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 146, 'set;' a common contemporary spelling.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 147, this line, dropped inadvertently from our text +(1652), is restored from 1646, 1648 and 1670.</span><br /> +Line 148, 'And' for 'All.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 151, 'Even thy deaths.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 152, 'Dresse the soul that late they slew.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 167 misprints 'nowes;' corrected in 1648, but not in +1670.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 168 drops 'soueraign.' See under lines 11-13.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 175, 'keeps.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 178, 'shall.' Cf. Rev. xiv. 5, as before. G.</span> +</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="AN_APOLOGIE_FOR_THE_FOREGOING_HYMN" id="AN_APOLOGIE_FOR_THE_FOREGOING_HYMN"></a>AN APOLOGIE FOR THE FOREGOING HYMN,</h2> + +<p class="center">AS HAUING BEEN WRITT WHEN THE AUTHOR WAS YET +AMONG THE PROTESTANTS.<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus haue I back again to thy bright name<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Fair floud of holy fires!) transfus'd the flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I took from reading thee: 'tis to thy wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know, that in my weak and worthlesse song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou here art sett to shine where thy full day<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarse dawnes. O pardon, if I dare to say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine own dear bookes are guilty. For from thence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I learn't to know that Loue is eloquence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hopefull maxime gaue me hart to try<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, what to other tongues is tun'd so high,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy praise might not speak English too: forbid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(By all thy mysteryes that here ly hidde)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forbid it, mighty Loue! let no fond hate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of names and wordes, so farr præiudicate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Souls are not Spaniards too: one freindly floud<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of baptism blends them all into a blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ's faith makes but one body of all soules,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Loue's that body's soul; no law controwlls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our free traffique for Heau'n; we may maintaine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, sure, with piety, though it come from Spain.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What soul so e're, in any language, can<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak Heau'n like her's, is my soul's country-man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O 'tis not Spanish, but 'tis Heau'n she speaks!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis Heau'n that lyes in ambush there, and breaks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thence into the wondring reader's brest;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who feels his warm heart hatcht into a nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of little eagles and young loues, whose high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flights scorn the lazy dust, and things that dy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are enow whose draughts (as deep as Hell)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink vp all Spain in sack. Let my soul swell<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the strong wine of Loue: let others swimme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In puddles; we will pledge this seraphim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bowles full of richer blood then blush of grape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was euer guilty of. Change we our shape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(My soul) some drink from men to beasts, O then<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink we till we proue more, not lesse, then men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn not beasts but angels. Let the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me euer into these His cellars bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where flowes such wine as we can haue of none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Him Who trod the wine-presse all alone:<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wine of youth, life, and the sweet deaths of Loue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wine of immortall mixture; which can proue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its tincture from the rosy nectar; wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That can exalt weak earth; and so refine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our dust, that at one draught, Mortality<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">May drink it self vp, and forget to dy.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The title in 1646 'Steps' is 'An Apologie for the precedent +Hymne:' in 1648 the 'Flaming Heart' also precedes the 'Apologie,' +and its title, 'Hymnes on Teresa,' is added. 1670 has +'was yet a Protestant.'</p> + +<p><i>Various readings from 1646.</i></p> + +<p> +Line 2, 'sea.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 9, 'heavenly.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 12, 'there' for 'here.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 14, 'prejudicate.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 16, 'one' for 'a:' 1670 has 'one.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 18, 1648 spells 'comptrolls.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 20, 'dwell in' for 'come from.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 21, 'soever.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 26, 'finds' for 'feels:' our text (1652) drops 'hatcht,' +which we have restored after 1646 and 1648; 1670 reads 'hatch,' +and <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> follows blindly.</span><br /> +Line 29, our text (1652) misreads 'now:' we restore 'enow,' +after the editions as in No. 9.<br /> +Line 34, our text misreads 'too' after 'we:' I omit it, as +in 1646 and 1670. 1648 has 'to.'<br /> +Line 41, 'Wine of youth's Life.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 45, 'in' for 'at.' As the 'Apologie' refers only to +the Hymn preceding, and not to what follows, I have placed it +after the former, not (as in 1648) the latter, which would make +it refer to both. G.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="THE_FLAMING_HEART" id="THE_FLAMING_HEART"></a>THE FLAMING HEART:</h2> + +<p class="center">VPON THE BOOK AND PICTURE OF THE SERAPHICAL SAINT TERESA, +AS SHE IS VSVALLY EXPRESSED WITH A SERAPHIM BISIDE HER.<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wel-meaning readers! you that come as freinds<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And catch the pretious name this peice pretends;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make not too much hast to admire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fair-cheek't fallacy of fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That is a seraphim, they say<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this the great Teresia.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Readers, be rul'd by me; and make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here a well-plact and wise mistake:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must transpose the picture quite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spell it wrong to read it right;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read him for her, and her for him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And call the saint the seraphim.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Painter, what didst thou vnderstand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To put her dart into his hand?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, euen the yeares and size of him<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showes this the mother seraphim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the mistresse flame; and duteous he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her happy fire-works here, comes down to see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O most poor-spirited of men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had thy cold pencil kist her pen,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou couldst not so vnkindly err<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show vs this faint shade for her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, man, this speakes pure mortall frame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mockes with female frost Loue's manly flame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One would suspect thou meant'st to paint<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some weak, inferiour, woman-saint.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But had thy pale-fac't purple took<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fire from the burning cheeks of that bright booke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wouldst on her haue heap't vp all<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span><span class="i0">That could be found seraphicall;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What e're this youth of fire, weares fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rosy fingers, radiant hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glowing cheek, and glistering wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All those fair and fragrant things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But before all, that fiery dart<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had fill'd the hand of this great heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doe then, as equall right requires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since his the blushes be, and her's the fires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resume and rectify thy rude design,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vndresse thy seraphim into mine;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Redeem this iniury of thy art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giue him the vail, giue her the dart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giue him the vail; that he may couer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red cheeks of a riuall'd louer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Asham'd that our world now can show<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nests of new seraphims here below.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Giue her the dart, for it is she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Fair youth) shootes both thy shaft, and thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, all ye wise and well-peirc't hearts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That liue and dy amidst her darts,<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is't your tastfull spirits doe proue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that rare life of her, and Loue?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, and bear witnes. Sends she not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A seraphim at euery shott?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What magazins of immortall armes there shine!<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaun's great artillery in each loue-spun line.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giue then the dart to her who giues the flame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giue him the veil, who giues the shame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But if it be the frequent fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of worst faults to be fortunate;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If all's præscription; and proud wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hearkens not to an humble song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all the gallantry of him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giue me the suffring seraphim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His be the brauery of all those bright things,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glowing cheekes, the glistering wings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rosy hand, the radiant dart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaue her alone the flaming heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leaue her that; and thou shalt leaue her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one loose shaft but Loue's whole quiver.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in Loue's feild was neuer found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A nobler weapon then a wovnd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loue's passiues are his actiu'st part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wounded is the wounding heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O heart! the æquall poise of Loue's both parts<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bigge alike with wound and darts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liue in these conquering leaues; liue all the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And walk through all tongues one triumphant flame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liue here, great heart; and loue and dy and kill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bleed and wound; and yeild and conquer still.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let this immortall life wherere it comes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walk in a crowd of loues and martyrdomes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let mystick deaths wait on't; and wise soules be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The loue-slain wittnesses of this life of thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sweet incendiary! shew here thy art,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon this carcasse of a hard, cold hart;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let all thy scatter'd shafts of light, that play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the leaues of thy larg books of day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Combin'd against this brest at once break in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take away from me my self and sin;<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This gratious robbery shall thy bounty be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my best fortunes such fair spoiles of me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O thou vndanted daughter of desires!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all thy dowr of lights and fires;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all the eagle in thee, all the doue;<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all thy liues and deaths of loue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thy larg draughts of intellectuall day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by thy thirsts of loue more large then they;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all thy brim-fill'd bowles of feirce desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thy last morning's draught of liquid fire;<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the full kingdome of that finall kisse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That seiz'd thy parting soul, and seal'd thee His;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all the Heau'n thou hast in Him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Fair sister of the seraphim!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all of Him we have in thee;<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaue nothing of my self in me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me so read thy life, that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnto all life of mine may dy.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The title in 1648 omits the words 'the seraphical saint,' and +the text there lacks the last twenty-four lines.</p> + +<p><i>Various readings from 1648.</i></p> + +<p> +Line 3, 'so' for 'too.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 11, 'And' for 'read.'</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 18, 'happier.'</span><br /> +Line 31 misreads 'But e're,' and 'were' for 'weares.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 33, 'cheekes.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 34 flagrantly misreads 'flagrant' for 'fragrant,' which +<span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> as usual blindly repeats.</span><br /> +Line 48, 'shafts.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 58 reads '... kindly tells the shame.' It is a characteristic +of <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> to vary his measures, else I should have +adopted this reading from 1648. The line is somewhat obscure +through the conceitful repetition of 'gives.' The sense is, +who, being pictured red, shows the blushing shamefacedness +of being outdone in his own seraphic nature by an earthly +saint. G.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="A_SONG_OF_DIVINE_LOVE" id="A_SONG_OF_DIVINE_LOVE"></a>A SONG OF DIVINE LOVE.<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lord, when the sense of Thy sweet grace<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sends vp my soul to seek Thy face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy blessed eyes breed such desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dy in Loue's delicious fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O Loue, I am thy sacrifice!<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be still triumphant, blessed eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still shine on me, fair suns! that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still may behold, though still I dy.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>SECOND PART.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Though still I dy, I liue again;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span><span class="i0">Still longing so to be still slain;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So gainfull is such losse of breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dy euen in desire of death.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still liue in me this longing strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of liuing death and dying life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For while Thou sweetly slayest me<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead to my selfe, I liue in Thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="IN_THE_GLORIOVS_ASSVMPTION_OF_OVR" id="IN_THE_GLORIOVS_ASSVMPTION_OF_OVR"></a>IN THE GLORIOVS ASSVMPTION OF OVR +BLESSED LADY.<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a></h2> + + + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Hymn.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark! she is call'd, the parting houre is come;<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take thy farewell, poor World! Heaun must go home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A peice of heau'nly earth; purer and brighter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the chast starres, whose choise lamps come to light her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whil'st through the crystall orbes, clearer then they<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She climbes; and makes a farre more Milkey Way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's call'd! Hark, how the dear immortall Doue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighes to His syluer mate, 'Rise vp, my loue'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise vp, my fair, my spotlesse one!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Winter's past, the rain is gone;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Spring is come, the flowrs appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sweets, (save thou,) are wanting here.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Come away, my loue!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Come away, my doue!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Cast off delay;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">The court of Heau'n is come<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To wait vpon thee home;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Come, come away!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The flowrs appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or quickly would, wert thou once here.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Spring is come, or if it stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis to keep time with thy delay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rain is gone, except so much as we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Detain in needfull teares to weep the want of thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Winter's past,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or if he make lesse hast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His answer is, why she does so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Sommer come not, how can Winter goe?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Come away, come away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shrill winds chide, the waters weep thy stay;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fountains murmur, and each loftyest tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bowes low'st his leauy top, to look for thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Come away, my loue!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Come away, my doue &c.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's call'd again. And will she goe?<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Heau'n bidds come, who can say no?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heau'n calls her, and she must away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heau'n will not, and she cannot stay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goe then; goe, gloriovs on the golden wings<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span><span class="i0">Of the bright youth of Heau'n, that sings<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnder so sweet a burthen. Goe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since thy dread Son will haue it so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while thou goest, our song and we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will, as we may, reach after thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail, holy queen of humble hearts!<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We in thy prayse will haue our parts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though thy dearest lookes must now give light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To none but the blest heavens, whose bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beholders, lost in sweet delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feed for ever their faire sight<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those divinest eyes, which we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our darke world noe more shall see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though our poore eyes are parted soe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet shall our lipps never lett goe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy gracious name, but to the last<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our loving song shall hold it fast.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy pretious name shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy self to vs; and we<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With holy care will keep it by vs.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We to the last<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Will hold it fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And no Assvmption shall deny vs.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All the sweetest showres<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of our fairest flowres<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Will we strow vpon it.<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though our sweets cannot make<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It sweeter, they can take<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Themselues new sweetness from it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maria, men and angels sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maria, mother of our King.<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live, rosy princesse, live! and may the bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown of a most incomparable light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embrace thy radiant browes. O may the best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of euerlasting ioyes bath thy white brest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live, our chast loue, the holy mirth<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Heau'n; the humble pride of Earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liue, crown of woemen; queen of men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liue, mistresse of our song. And when<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our weak desires haue done their best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet angels come, and sing the rest.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The heading in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> is 'On the Assumption of +the Virgin Marie.' In line 5 it reads 'whil'st,' and so in line +43: line 7, 'againe th' immortal Dove:' line 12, our text (1652) +reads 'but;' we prefer 'saue' of 1648 and the <span class="smcap">ms.</span>: line 30, our +text (1652) misprints 'heauy' for 'leavy' of 1648: line 42, the +<span class="smcap">ms.</span> reads 'great:' line 47, 'give' for 'be;' adopted: line 53, +'eyes' for 'ioyes;' adopted: line 57, 'sacred:' line 76, 'bragg:' +line 77, '<i>praise</i> of women, <i>pride</i> of men.'</p> + +<p>By an unaccountable inadvertence, our text (1652) omits +lines 47-56. They are restored from 1648: they also appear +in 1670. Line 18 in 1648 reads 'Come, come away:' in 1670 +it is 'Come away, come away;' but this edition strangely, but +characteristically, omits lines 19-34; and <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>, following +it, though pronounced by himself 'the most inaccurate of all' +(Preliminary Observations, p. xi. of his edition), has overlooked +them. Confer, for a quaint parallel with these lines +(19-34), our <span class="smcap">Joseph Fletcher</span>. It may also be noted here that +<span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> betrays his habitual use of his self-condemned text +of 1670 by misreading in line 12, 'No sweets since thou art +wanting here;' so converting the fine compliment into ungrammatical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> +nonsense. Earlier also (line 3) he similarly reads, +after the same text, 'light' for 'earth.' So too in line 7 he +reads 'She's call'd again; hark! how th' immortall dove:' and +line 42, for the favourite 'dread' of our Poet the weaker 'great,' +as <i>supra</i>: and the following line 63 omits 'the:' line 64, 'our:' +line 65 reads 'We'll:' line 76, 'and' for 'the.' On lines 9-10, +cf. Song of Solomon, ii. 10-13. G.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="UPON_FIVE_PIOVS_AND_LEARNED_DISCOURSES" id="UPON_FIVE_PIOVS_AND_LEARNED_DISCOURSES"></a>UPON FIVE PIOVS AND LEARNED DISCOURSES:</h2> + +<p class="center">BY ROBERT SHELFORD.<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rise, then, immortall maid! Religion, rise!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put on thy self in thine own looks: t' our eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be what thy beauties, not our blots, have made thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as (ere our dark sinnes to dust betray'd thee)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heav'n set thee down new drest; when thy bright birth<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot thee like lightning to th' astonisht Earth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From th' dawn of thy fair eyelids wipe away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dull mists and melancholy clouds: take Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thine own beams about thee: bring the best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of whatsoe're perfum'd thy Eastern nest.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Girt all thy glories to thee: then sit down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Open this book, fair Queen, and take thy crown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These learnèd leaves shall vindicate to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy holyest, humblest, handmaid, Charitie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'l dresse thee like thy self, set thee on high<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where thou shalt reach all hearts, command each eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! where I see thy altars wake, and rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the pale dust of that strange sacrifice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which they themselves were; each one putting on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A majestie that may beseem thy throne.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The holy youth of Heav'n, whose golden rings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Girt round thy awfull altars; with bright wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fanning thy fair locks, (which the World beleeves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As much as sees) shall with these sacred leaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trick their tall plumes, and in that garb shall go<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If not more glorious, more conspicuous tho.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">————Be it enacted then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the fair laws of thy firm-pointed pen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God's services no longer shall put on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pure sluttishnesse for pure religion:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No longer shall our Churches' frighted stones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie scatter'd like the burnt and martyr'd bones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dead Devotion; nor faint marbles weep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In their sad ruines; nor Religion keep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A melancholy mansion in those cold<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Urns: Like God's sanctuaries they lookt of old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now seem they Temples consecrate to none,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or to a new god, Desolation.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more the hypocrite shall th' upright be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because he's stiffe, and will confesse no knee:<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While others bend their knee, no more shalt thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Disdainfull dust and ashes!) bend thy brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor on God's altar cast two scorching eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bak't in hot scorn, for a burnt sacrifice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But (for a lambe) thy tame and tender heart,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">New struck by Love, still trembling on his dart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or (for two turtle-doves) it shall suffice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bring a pair of meek and humble eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This shall from henceforth be the masculine theme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pulpits and pennes shall sweat in; to redeem<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vertue to action, that life-feeding flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That keeps Religion warm: not swell a name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Faith; a mountain-word, made up of aire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those deare spoils that wont to dresse the fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fruitfull Charitie's full breasts (of old),<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turning her out to tremble in the cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What can the poore hope from us, when we be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncharitable ev'n to Charitie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor shall our zealous ones still have a fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At that most horrible and hornèd thing,<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsooth the Pope: by which black name they call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Turk, the devil, Furies, Hell and all,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And something more. O he is Antichrist:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubt this, and doubt (say they) that Christ is Christ:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, 'tis a point of Faith. What e're it be,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm sure it is no point of Charitie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In summe, no longer shall our people hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be a true Protestant's but to hate the Pope.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>I have taken the text of this poem as it originally appeared, +because in all the editions of the Poems wherein it is given +the last ten lines are omitted. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> discovered this after +his text of the Poems was printed off, and so had to insert +them in a Postscript, wherein his genius for blundering describes +Shelford's volume as 'Five ... <i>Poems</i>.' These slight variations +may be recorded:</p> + +<p>The title in all is 'On a Treatise of Charity.'</p> + +<p> +Line 12, 1648 has 'thy' for 'this.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 16, ib. 'shall' for 'shalt.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 17, all the editions 'off'rings' for 'altars.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 30, ib. 'A' for the first 'pure.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 36, our text misprints 'look' for 'look't.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The poem is signed in Shelford's volume '<span class="smcap">Rich. Crashaw</span>, +Aul. Pemb. A.B.' It appeared in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 86-8), +1648 (pp. 101-2), 1670 (pp. 68-70). G.</p> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_e.png" width="200" height="152" alt="Decoration E" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="DIES_IRAE_DIES_ILLA" id="DIES_IRAE_DIES_ILLA"></a>DIES IRÆ, DIES ILLA:</h2> + +<p class="center">THE HYMN OF THE CHVRCH, IN MEDITATION OF THE DAY OF +IVDGMENT.<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></p> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hear'st thou, my soul, what serious things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both the Psalm and sybyll sings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a sure Iudge, from Whose sharp ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World in flames shall fly away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O that fire! before whose face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaun and Earth shall find no place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O those eyes! Whose angry light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must be the day of that dread night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O that trump! whose blast shall run<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An euen round with the circling sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vrge the murmuring graues to bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale mankind forth to meet his King.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span></p> + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Horror of Nature, Hell, and Death!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a deep groan from beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall cry, We come, we come, and all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The caues of Night answer one call.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O that Book! whose leaues so bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will sett the World in seuere light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O that Iudge! Whose hand, Whose eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None can indure; yet none can fly.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ah then, poor soul, what wilt thou say?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to what patron chuse to pray?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When starres themselues shall stagger; and<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The most firm foot no more then stand.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But Thou giu'st leaue (dread Lord!) that we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take shelter from Thy self, in Thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with the wings of Thine Own doue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly to Thy scepter of soft loue.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Dear, remember in that Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who was the cause Thou cam'st this way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy sheep was stray'd; and Thou wouldst be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Euen lost Thyself in seeking me.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>IX.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Shall all that labour, all that cost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of loue, and eu'n that losse, be lost?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this lou'd soul, iudg'd worth no lesse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then all that way, and wearyness.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>X.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Iust mercy then, Thy reckning be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With my Price, and not with me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas pay'd at first with too much pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be pay'd twice; or once, in vain.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Mercy (my Iudge), mercy I cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With blushing cheek and bleeding ey:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The conscious colors of my sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are red without and pale within.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O let Thine Own soft bowells pay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy self; and so discharge that day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Sin can sigh, Loue can forgiue:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O say the word, my soul shall liue.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Those mercyes which Thy Mary found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or who Thy crosse confes't and crown'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope tells my heart, the same loues be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still aliue, and still for me.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4>XIV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Though both my prayres and teares combine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both worthlesse are; for they are mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Thou Thy bounteous Self still be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And show Thou art, by sauing me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O when Thy last frown shall proclaim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flocks of goates to folds of flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all Thy lost sheep found shall be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let 'Come ye blessed,' then call me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XVI.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">When the dread '<i>Ite</i>' shall diuide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those limbs of death, from Thy left side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let those life-speaking lipps command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I inheritt Thy right hand.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XVII.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O hear a suppliant heart, all crush't<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crumbled into contrite dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My hope, my fear! my Iudge, my Freind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take charge of me, and of my end.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In st. vi. line 4, 'then' is = than, on which cf. our <span class="smcap">Phineas +Fletcher</span>, as before: in st. xvi. line 1, '<i>Ite</i>' = 'go ye' of the +Vulgate. 1670, st. ii. line 3, misprints 'these' for 'those:' +st. viii. line 3, 'And Thou would'st be,' <i>i.e.</i> didst will to be,—not +merely wished to be, but carried out Thy intent. G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHARITAS_NIMIA_OR_THE_DEAR_BARGAIN" id="CHARITAS_NIMIA_OR_THE_DEAR_BARGAIN"></a>CHARITAS NIMIA, OR THE DEAR BARGAIN.<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lord, what is man? why should he coste Thee<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So dear? what had his ruin lost Thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord, what is man? that thou hast ouerbought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So much a thing of nought?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Loue is too kind, I see; and can<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make but a simple merchant-man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas for such sorry merchandise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bold painters haue putt out his eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Alas, sweet Lord, what wer't to Thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If there were no such wormes as we?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heau'n ne're the lesse still Heau'n would be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Should mankind dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the deep Hell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What haue his woes to doe with Thee?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Let him goe weep<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">O're his own wounds;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Seraphims will not sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor spheares let fall their faithfull rounds.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still would the youthfull spirits sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still Thy spatious palace ring;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still would those beauteous ministers of light<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burn all as bright.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And bow their flaming heads before Thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still thrones and dominations would adore Thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still would those euer-wakefull sons of fire<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Keep warm Thy prayse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Both nights and dayes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And teach Thy lou'd name to their noble lyre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Let froward dust then doe it's kind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And giue it self for sport to the proud wind.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should a peice of peeuish clay plead shares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the æternity of Thy old cares?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why shouldst Thou bow Thy awfull brest to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What mine own madnesses haue done with me?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Should not the king still keepe his throne<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because some desperate fool's vndone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or will the World's illustrious eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weep for euery worm that dyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Will the gallant sun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">E're the lesse glorious run?<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will he hang down his golden head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or e're the sooner seek his Western bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because some foolish fly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Growes wanton, and will dy?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">If I were lost in misery,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What was it to Thy Heaun and Thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What was it to Thy pretious blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If my foul heart call'd for a floud?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">What if my faithlesse soul and I<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Would needs fall in<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">With guilt and sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What did the Lamb, that He should dy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What did the Lamb, that He should need,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the wolf sins, Himself to bleed?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">If my base lust,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bargain'd with Death and well-beseeming dust:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Why should the white<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Lamb's bosom write<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The purple name<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of my sin's shame?<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why should His vnstaind brest make good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My blushes with His Own heart-blood?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O my Saviovr, make me see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How dearly Thou hast payd for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lost again my life may proue,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As then in death, so now in loue.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_b.png" width="200" height="78" alt="Decoration B" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="S_MARIA_MAIOR" id="S_MARIA_MAIOR"></a>S. MARIA MAIOR.</h2> + + +<blockquote><p class="center">Dilectus meus mihi, et ego illi, qui pascitur inter lilia. <i>Cant.</i> ii.</p></blockquote> + +<h4>THE HIMN, O GLORIOSA DOMINA.<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hail, most high, most humble one!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aboue the world, below thy Son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose blush the moon beauteously marres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And staines the timerous light of stares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He that made all things, had not done<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till He had made Himself thy Son:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whole World's host would be thy guest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And board Himself at thy rich brest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O boundles hospitality!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Feast of all things feeds on thee.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The first Eue, mother of our Fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E're she bore any one, slew all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her vnkind gift might we haue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' inheritance of a hasty grave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick-burye'd in the wanton tomb<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of one forbidden bitt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had not a better frvit forbidden it.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Had not thy healthfull womb<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World's new eastern window bin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And giuen vs heau'n again, in giuing Him.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine was the rosy dawn, that spring the Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which renders all the starres she stole away.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let then the agèd World be wise, and all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proue nobly here vnnaturall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis gratitude to forgett that other<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And call the maiden Eue their mother.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yee redeem'd nations farr and near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Applaud your happy selues in her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(All you to whom this loue belongs)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And keep't aliue with lasting songs.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let hearts and lippes speak lowd; and say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail, door of life: and sourse of Day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The door was shut, the fountain seal'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet Light was seen and Life reueal'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The door was shut, yet let in day,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fountain seal'd, yet life found way.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glory to Thee, great virgin's Son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In bosom of Thy Father's blisse.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The same to Thee, sweet Spirit be done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As euer shall be, was, and is. Amen.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The heading in 1648 is simply 'The Virgin-Mother:' in +1670 it is 'The Hymn, O Gloriosa Domina.'</p> + +<p> +Line 2, 1648 reads 'the Son.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 10, our text (1652) misprints 'the' for 'thee.'</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> +Line 21, I follow here the text of 1648. 1652 reads</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thine was the rosy dawn that sprung the day.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and this is repeated in 1670 and, of course, by <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>.<br /> +Line 26, 1648 has 'your' for 'their.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 35 is inadvertently dropped in our text (1652), though +the succeeding line (with which it rhymes) appears. I restore +it. 1670 also drops it; and so again <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>!</span><br /> +Lines 43-44, 'Because some foolish fly.' This metaphorical +allusion to the Fall and its results (as described by <span class="smcap">Milton</span> and +others) is founded on the dying of various insects after begetting +their kind. G.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="HOPE" id="HOPE"></a>HOPE.<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hope, whose weak beeing ruin'd is<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alike if it succeed or if it misse!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom ill and good doth equally confound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And both the hornes of Fate's dilemma wound.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vain shadow; that dost vanish quite<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Both at full noon and perfect night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The starres haue not a possibility<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of blessing thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thinges then from their end we happy call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis Hope is the most hopelesse thing of all.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hope, thou bold taster of delight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who in stead of doing so, deuourst it quite.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou bringst vs an estate, yet leau'st vs poor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By clogging it with legacyes before.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ioyes which we intire should wed<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come deflour'd-virgins to our bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good fortunes without gain imported be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such mighty custom's paid to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ioy, like wine kep't close, doth better tast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If it take air before, his spirits wast.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hope, Fortun's cheating lottery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where for one prize, an hundred blankes there be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fond anchor, Hope! who tak'st thine aime so farr<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That still or short or wide thine arrows are;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thinne empty cloud which th' ey deceiues<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With shapes that our own fancy giues.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cloud which gilt and painted now appeares<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But must drop presently in teares:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thy false beames o're reason's light preuail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By <i>ignes fatvi</i> for North starres we sail.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Brother of Fear, more gaily clad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The merryer fool o' th' two, yet quite as mad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sire of Repentance, child of fond desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That blow'st the chymick's and the louer's fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still leading them insensibly on<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the strong witchcraft of 'anon.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thee the one does changing nature, through<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her endlesse labyrinths pursue;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And th' other chases woman; while she goes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More wayes and turnes then hunted Nature knowes.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="right"> +<span class="smcap">M. Cowley.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In all the editions save that of 1652 the respective portions +of <span class="smcap">Cowley</span> and <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> are alternated as Question and Answer, +after a fashion of the day exemplified by <i>Pembroke</i> and <span class="smcap">Rudyard</span> +and others. The heading in 1646, 1648 and 1670 accordingly +is 'On Hope, by way of Question and Answer, between +<span class="smcap">A. Cowley</span> and <span class="smcap">R. Crashaw</span>.'</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Various readings from 1646 edition.</i></p> + +<p> +Line 3, 'and' for 'or,' and 'doth' for 'does.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 7, 'Fates' for 'starres:' but as Fate occurs in line 4, +'starres' seems preferable.</span><br /> +Line 9, 'ends' for 'end.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 18, 'so' for 'such.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 19, 'doth' for 'does;' adopted.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 20, 'its' for 'his;' the personification warrants 'his.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 25. All the other editions misread</span><br /></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thine empty cloud, the eye it selfe deceives.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +There can be no question that 'thinne' not 'thine' was the +poet's word. Cf. <span class="smcap">Crashaw's</span> reference in his Answer. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> +perpetuates the error.<br /> +Line 30, 'not' for 'for.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 33, 'shield' in all the editions save 1652 by mistake.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 34, 'blows' and 'chymicks' for 'chymick;' the latter +adopted.</span><br /> +Line 37, as in line 19.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 38, spelled 'laborinths.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>In our Essay see critical remarks showing that <span class="smcap">Cowley</span> and +<span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> revised their respective portions. It seems to have +escaped notice that <span class="smcap">Cowley</span> himself wrote another poem '<i>For</i> +Hope,' as his former was '<i>Against</i> Hope.' See it in our Study +of Crashaw's Life and Poetry. G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="M_CRASHAWS_ANSWER_FOR_HOPE" id="M_CRASHAWS_ANSWER_FOR_HOPE"></a>M. CRASHAW'S ANSWER FOR HOPE.<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear Hope! Earth's dowry, and Heaun's debt!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The entity of things that are not yet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Subtlest, but surest beeing! thou by whom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our nothing has a definition!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Substantiall shade! whose sweet allay<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blends both the noones of Night and Day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fates cannot find out a capacity<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of hurting thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thee their lean dilemma, with blunt horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrinkes, as the sick moon from the wholsome morn.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Rich hope! Loue's legacy, vnder lock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Faith! still spending, and still growing stock!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our crown-land lyes aboue, yet each meal brings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A seemly portion for the sonnes of kings.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor will the virgin ioyes we wed<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come lesse vnbroken to our bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because that from the bridall cheek of Blisse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou steal'st vs down a distant kisse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope's chast stealth harmes no more Ioye's maidenhead<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span><span class="i0">Then spousal rites preiudge the marriage bed.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Fair hope! Our earlyer Heau'n! by thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young Time is taster to Eternity:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy generous wine with age growes strong, not sowre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor does it kill thy fruit, to smell thy flowre.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy golden, growing head neuer hangs down<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till in the lappe of Loue's full noone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It falls; and dyes! O no, it melts away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As doth the dawn into the Day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As lumpes of sugar loose themselues, and twine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their subtile essence with the soul of wine.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Fortune? alas, aboue the World's low warres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope walks; and kickes the curld heads of conspiring starres.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her keel cutts not the waues where these winds stirr,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fortune's whole lottery is one blank to her.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her shafts and shee, fly farre above,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And forage in the fields of light and love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet Hope! kind cheat! fair fallacy! by thee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We are not where nor what we be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what and where we would be. Thus art thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our absent presence, and our future now.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Faith's sister! nurse of fair desire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear's antidote! a wise and well-stay'd fire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Temper 'twixt chill Despair, and torrid Ioy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Queen regent in yonge Loue's minority!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though the vext chymick vainly chases<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">His fugitiue gold through all her faces;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though Loue's more feirce, more fruitlesse, fires assay:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One face more fugitiue then all they;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True Hope's a glorious huntresse, and her chase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The God of Nature in the feilds of grace.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Various readings from 1646 edition.</i></p> + +<p>Line 2, 'things' for 'those;' adopted. But in <span class="smcap">Harleian +ms.</span> 6917-18, it is 'those.' As this <span class="smcap">ms.</span> supplies in poems onward +various excellent readings (<i>e.g.</i> 'Wishes'), it may be noted +that the Collection came from Lord Somers' Library of <span class="smcap">mss.</span>, +and is accordingly authoritative.</p> + +<p>Lines 5-6 read</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Faire cloud of fire, both shade and light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our life in death, our day in night.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Our text (1652) seems finer and deeper, and to put the thought +with more concinnity.</p> + +<p> +Line 9, 'thinne' for 'lean.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 10, 'like' for 'as.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 11, 'Rich hope' dropped in all the other editions; but +as it is parallel with the 'dear Hope' and 'fair Hope' of the +preceding and succeeding stanzas, I have restored the words. +The line reads elsewhere,</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thou art Love's Legacie under lock'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and the next,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Of Faith: the steward of our growing stock.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +Line 13, 'crown-lands lye.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 18, ' a distant kisse.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 19, 'Hope's chaste kisse wrongs.'...</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 24, 'Nor need wee.'...</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 25, 'growing' is dropped.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 28, 'doth' for 'does;' adopted.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 30, 'subtile' for 'supple;' adopted: but in <span class="smcap">Harleian +ms.</span> as before, it is 'supple.'</span><br /> +Lines 31-32. This couplet is oddly misprinted in all the other +editions,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Fortune, alas, above the world's law warres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope kicks the curld'....<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>In 1670 there is a capital L to Law: but 'low' yields the evident<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> +meaning intended. Alas is = exclamation simply, not in +our present limitation of it to sorrow. See Epitaph of <span class="smcap">Herrys</span> +onward, lines 49-52.</p> + +<p>Line 33, 'our' for 'these;' the latter necessary in its relation +to 'low' not 'law,' the 'winds' being those of the 'warres' +of our world.</p> + +<p> +Line 34, 'And Fate's' for 'Fortune's.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 35-36 dropped by our text (1652) inadvertently.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 36, 'or' for 'nor.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 45, 'And' for 'Though.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 47, 'huntresse' for 'hunter;' adopted.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 48, 'field' for 'fields.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 49. I prefer 'huntresse' of 1646, 1648 and 1670, to</span><br /> +'hunter' of our text (1652). G.<br /> +</p> + + + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_j.png" width="200" height="158" alt="Decoration J" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a><br /> +<a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a></span></p> + + + + +<h1><a name="Sacred_Poetry_2" id="Sacred_Poetry_2"></a>Sacred Poetry.</h1> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>II.</h2> + +<h2>AIRELLES.</h2> + +<p class="center">FROM UNPUBLISHED MSS. +</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a></span></p> + + +<p class="center p6">NOTE.</p> + +<p>See our Preface for explanation of the title. 'Airelles' to +these and other hitherto unprinted and unpublished Poems +from the <span class="smcap">Tanner mss.</span> of Archbishop Sancroft: and our Essay +for the biographic interest of the poems on the Gunpowder-Plot. +I adhere strictly throughout to the orthography of the +<span class="smcap">ms.</span> G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="MARY_SEEKING_JESUS_WHEN_LOST" id="MARY_SEEKING_JESUS_WHEN_LOST"></a>MARY SEEKING JESUS WHEN LOST.</h2> + +<p class="center">St. Luke ii. 41-52: <i>Quærit Jesum suum Maria</i>, &c. (v. 44.)</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And is He gone, Whom these armes held but now?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Their hope, their vow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did euer greife and joy in one poore heart<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Soe soone change part?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee's gone! The fair'st flower that e're bosome drest;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">My soule's sweet rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My wombe's chast pride is gone, my heauen-borne boy;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And where is joy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee's gone! and His lou'd steppes to wait vpon,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">My joy, is gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My joyes, and Hee are gone; my greife, and I<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Alone must ly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee's gone! not leaving with me, till He come,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">One smile at home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh come then, bring Thy mother her lost joy:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Oh come, sweet boy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make hast, and come, or e're my greife and I<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Make hast, and dy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, heart! The heauens are angry, all their spheres<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Rivall thy teares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was mistaken, some faire sphere or other<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Was Thy blest mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What but the fairest heauen, could owne the birth<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of soe faire earth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet sure Thou did'st lodge heere: this wombe of mine<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Was once call'd Thine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft haue these armes Thy cradle envied,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Beguil'd Thy bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft to Thy easy eares hath this shrill tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Trembled, and sung.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft haue I wrapt Thy slumbers in soft aires,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And stroak't Thy cares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft hath this hand those silken casements kept,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">While their sunnes slept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft haue my hungry kisses made Thine eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Too early rise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft haue I spoild my kisses' daintiest diet,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To spare Thy quiet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft from this breast to Thine, my loue-tost heart<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Hath leapt, to part.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft my lost soule haue I bin glad to seeke<br /></span> +<span class="i6">On Thy soft cheeke.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft haue these armes—alas!—show'd to these eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Their now lost joyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dawne then to me, Thou morne of mine owne day,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And lett heauen stay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, would'st Thou heere still fixe Thy faire abode,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">My bosome God:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hinders, but my bosome still might be<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thy heauen to Thee?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span></div></div> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_WOUNDS_OF_THE_LORD_JESUS" id="THE_WOUNDS_OF_THE_LORD_JESUS"></a>THE WOUNDS OF THE LORD JESUS.</h2> + +<p class="center">IN CICATRICES DOMINI JESU.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come braue soldjers, come and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mighty Loue's artillery.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was the conquering dart; and loe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shines His quiuer, there His bow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These the passiue weapons are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That made great Loue, a man of warre.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The quiver that He bore, did bide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soe neare, it prov'd His very side:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In it there sate but one sole dart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A peircing one—His peirced heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His weapons were nor steele, nor brasse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weapon that He wore, He was.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For bow His vnbent hand did serue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well strung with many a broken nerue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange the quiver, bow and dart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bloody side, and hand, and heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now the feild is wonne; and they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(The dust of Warre cleane wip'd away)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weapons now of triumph be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That were before of Victorie.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span></div></div> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_1" id="ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_1"></a>ON Y<sup>E</sup> GUNPOWDER-TREASON.<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">I sing Impiety beyond a name:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who stiles it any thinge, knowes not the same.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dull, sluggish Ile! what more than lethargy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gripes thy cold limbes soe fast, thou canst not fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And start from of[f] thy center? hath Heauen's loue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stuft thee soe full with blisse, thou can'st not moue?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If soe, oh Neptune, may she farre be throwne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thy kind armes to a kind world vnknowne:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lett her surviue this day, once mock her fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shee's an island truely fortunate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lett not my suppliant breath raise a rude storme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wrack my suite: O keepe Pitty warme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thy cold breast, and yearely on this day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine eyes a tributary streame shall pay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dos't thou not see an exhalation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Belch'd from the sulph'ry lungs of Phlegeton?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A living comet, whose pestiferous breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adulterates the virgin aire? with death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It laboures: stif'led Nature's in a swound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ready to dropp into a chaos, round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About horror's displai'd; It doth portend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That earth a shoure of stones to heauen shall send,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crack the christall globe; the milkly streame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall in a siluer raine runne out, whose creame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall choake the gaping earth, w<sup>ch</sup> then shall fry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In flames, & of a burning feuer dy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wonders may in fashion be, not rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Winter's thunder with a groane shall scare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rouze the sleepy ashes of the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making them skip out of their dusty bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those twinckling eyes of heauen, w<sup>ch</sup> eu'n now shin'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall with one flash of lightning be struck blind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea shall change his youthfull greene, & slide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the shore in a graue purple tide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It does præsage, that a great Prince shall climbe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gett a starry throne before his time.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To vsher in this shoale of prodigies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy infants, Æolus, will not suffice.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noe, noe, a giant wind, that will not spare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tosse poore men like dust into the aire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Justle downe mountaines: Kings courts shall be sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like bandied balles, into the firmament.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Atlas shall be tript vpp, Ioue's gate shall feele<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weighty rudenes of his boysterous heele.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All this it threats, & more: Horro<sup>r</sup>, that flies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To th' empyræum of all miseries.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most tall hyperbole's cannot descry it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mischeife, that scornes expression should come nigh it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All this it only threats: the meteor ly'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was exhal'd, a while it hung, & dy'd.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heauen kickt the monster downe: downe it was throwne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fall of all things it præsag'd, its oune<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It quite forgott: the fearfull earth gaue way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And durst not touch it, heere it made noe stay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last it stopt at Pluto's gloomy porch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He streightway lighted vpp his pitchy torch.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now to those toiling soules it giues its light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W<sup>ch</sup> had the happines to worke ith' night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They banne the blaze, & curse its curtesy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lighting them vnto their misery.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till now Hell was imperfect; it did need<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some rare choice torture; now 'tis Hell indeed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then glutt thy dire lampe with the warmest blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That runnes in violett pipes: none other food<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It can digest, then watch the wildfire well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Least it breake forth, & burne thy sooty cell.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_2" id="ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_2"></a><span class="smcap">Upon the Gunpowder-Treason.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reach me a quill, pluckt from the flaming wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Pluto's Mercury, that I may sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death to the life. My inke shall be the blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Cerberus, or Alecto's viperous brood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnmated malice! Oh vnpeer'd despight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as the sable pinions of the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neuer durst hatch before: extracted see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very quintessence of villanie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feare to name it; least that he, w<sup>ch</sup> heares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should haue his soule frighted beyond the spheres.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heauen was asham'd, to see our mother Earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Engender with the Night, & teeme a birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soe foule, one minute's light had it but seene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fresh face of the morne had blasted beene.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her rosy cheekes you should haue seene noe more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dy'd in vermilion blushes, as before:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in a vaile of clouds mufling her head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A solitary life she would haue led.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Affrighted Phœbus would haue lost his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giving his wanton palfreys leaue to play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Olympick games in the' Olympian plaines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His trembling hands loosing the golden raines.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Queene of night gott the greene sicknes then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sitting soe long at ease in her darke denne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not daring to peepe forth, least that a stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should beate her headlong from her jetty throne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ioue's twinckling tapers, that doe light the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had beene puft out, and from their stations hurl'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Æol kept in his wrangling sonnes, least they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With this grand blast should haue bin blowne away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amazèd Triton, with his shrill alarmes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bad sporting Neptune to pluck in his armes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaue embracing of the Isles, least hee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might be an actor in this Tragedy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor should wee need thy crispèd waues, for wee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An Ocean could haue made t' haue drownèd thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torrents of salt teares from our eyes should runne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And raise a deluge, where the flaming sunne<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should coole his fiery wheeles, & neuer sinke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soe low to giue his thirsty stallions drinke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each soule in sighes had spent its dearest breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As glad to waite vpon their King in death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each wingèd chorister would swan-like sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mournfull dirge to their deceasèd king.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The painted meddowes would haue laught no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ioye of their neate coates; but would haue tore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their shaggy locks, their flowry mantles turn'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into dire sable weeds, & sate, & mourn'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each stone had streight a Niobe become,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wept amaine; then rear'd a costly tombe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T' entombe the lab'ring earth. For surely shee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had died just in her deliuery.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when Ioue's wingèd heralds this espied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpp to th' Almighty thunderer they hied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Relating this sad story. Streight way hee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The monster crusht, maugre their midwiferie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And may such Pythons neuer liue to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Light's faire face, but still abortiue bee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_3" id="ON_YE_GUNPOWDER-TREASON_3"></a><span class="smcap">Upon the Gunpowder-Treason.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grow plumpe, leane Death; his Holinesse a feast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath now præpar'd, & you maist be his guest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come grimme Destruction, & in purple gore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dye seu'n times deeper than they were before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy scarlet robes: for heere you must not share<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A com̄on banquett: noe, heere's princely fare.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And least thy blood-shott eyes should lead aside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This masse of cruelty, to be thy guide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three coleblack sisters, (whose long sutty haire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And greisly visages doe fright the aire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Night beheld them, shame did almost turne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sable cheekes into a blushing morne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see some fowler than herselfe) these stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each holding forth to light the aery brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose purer flames tremble to be soe nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in fell hatred burning, angry dy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sly, lurking treason is his bosome freind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom faint, & palefac't Feare doth still attend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These need noe invitation, onely thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black dismall Horro<sup>r</sup>, come; make perfect now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' epitome of Hell: oh lett thy pinions<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be a gloomy canopy to Pluto's minions.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this infernall Majesty close shrowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your selues, you Stygian states; a pitchy clowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall hang the roome, & for your tapers bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sulphureous flames, snatch'd from æternall night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But rest, affrighted Muse; thy siluer wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May not row neerer to these dusky rings.<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast back some amorous glances on the cates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That heere are dressing by the hasty Fates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay stopp thy clowdy eyes, it is not good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To drowne thy selfe in this pure pearly flood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But since they are for fire-workes, rather proue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A phenix, & in chastest flames of loue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Offer thy selfe a virgin sacrifice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To quench the rage of hellish deities.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But dares Destruction eate these candid breasts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Muses, & the Graces sugred neasts?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dares hungry Death snatch of one cherry lipp?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or thirsty Treason offer once to sippe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One dropp of this pure nectar, w<sup>ch</sup> doth flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In azure channells warme through mounts of snow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roses fresh, conseruèd from the rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cruell ravishing of frosty age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feare is afraid to tast of: only this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He humbly crau'd to banquett on a kisse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poore meagre horro<sup>r</sup> streightwaies was amaz'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the stead of feeding stood, & gaz'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their appetites were gone at th' uery sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yet theire eyes surfett with sweet delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only the Pope a stomack still could find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yett they were not powder'd to his mind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth-with each god stept from his starry throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And snatch'd away the banquett; euery one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convey'd his sweet delicious treasury<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the close closet of æternity:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where they will safely keepe it, from the rude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rugged touch of Pluto's multitude.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span></p> + + + +<h1><a name="Secular_Poetry_I" id="Secular_Poetry_I"></a>Secular Poetry.</h1> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h2>I.</h2> + + +<h2>THE DELIGHTS OF THE MUSES</h2> + +<p class="center">(1646).</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center p6">NOTE.</p> + +<p>For the title-page of 'The Delights of the Muses' see Note +immediately before the original Preface, and our Preface on +the classification of the several poems. G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="MUSICKS_DUELL" id="MUSICKS_DUELL"></a>MUSICK'S DUELL.<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now Westward Sol had spent the richest beams<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Noon's high glory, when hard by the streams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Tiber, on the sceane of a greene plat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnder protection of an oake, there sate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sweet Lute's-master; in whose gentle aires<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lost the daye's heat, and his owne hot cares.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Close in the covert of the leaves there stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Nightingale, come from the neighbouring wood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(The sweet inhabitant of each glad tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their Muse, their Syren—harmlesse Syren she!)<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There stood she listning, and did entertaine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The musick's soft report, and mold the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her owne murmures, that what ever mood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His curious fingers lent, her voyce made good:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man perceiv'd his rivall, and her art;<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dispos'd to give the light-foot lady sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awakes his lute, and 'gainst the fight to come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Informes it in a sweet præludium<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of closer straines, and ere the warre begin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lightly skirmishes on every string,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charg'd with a flying touch: and streightway she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carves out her dainty voyce as readily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a thousand sweet distinguish'd tones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reckons up in soft divisions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quicke volumes of wild notes; to let him know<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By that shrill taste, she could do something too.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His nimble hands' instinct then taught each string<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A capring cheerefullnesse; and made them sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their owne dance; now negligently rash<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He throwes his arme, and with a long drawne dash<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blends all together; then distinctly tripps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From this to that; then quicke returning skipps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And snatches this again, and pauses there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shee measures every measure, every where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meets art with art; sometimes as if in doubt<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not perfect yet, and fearing to be out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trayles her plaine ditty in one long-spun note,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the sleeke passage of her open throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cleare unwrinckled song; then doth shee point it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tender accents, and severely joynt it<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By short diminutives, that being rear'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In controverting warbles evenly shar'd,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her sweet selfe shee wrangles. Hee amazed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from so small a channell should be rais'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The torrent of a voyce, whose melody<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could melt into such sweet variety,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straines higher yet; that tickled with rare art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tatling strings (each breathing in his part)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most kindly doe fall out; the grumbling base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In surly groans disdaines the treble's grace;<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The high-perch't treble chirps at this, and chides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vntill his finger (Moderatour) hides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And closes the sweet quarrell, rowsing all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoarce, shrill at once; as when the trumpets call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hot Mars to th' harvest of Death's field, and woo<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men's hearts into their hands: this lesson too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shee gives him back, her supple brest thrills out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sharpe aires, and staggers in a warbling doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dallying sweetnesse, hovers o're her skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And folds in wav'd notes with a trembling bill<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The plyant series of her slippery song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then starts shee suddenly into a throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of short, thicke sobs, whose thundring volleyes float<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And roule themselves over her lubrick throat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In panting murmurs, 'still'd out of her breast,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever-bubling spring; the sugred nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her delicious soule, that there does lye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bathing in streames of liquid melodie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Musick's best seed-plot, whence in ripen'd aires<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span><span class="i0">A golden-headed harvest fairely reares<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His honey-dropping tops, plow'd by her breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which there reciprocally laboureth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that sweet soyle; it seemes a holy quire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Founded to th' name of great Apollo's lyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose silver-roofe rings with the sprightly notes<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sweet-lipp'd angel-imps, that swill their throats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In creame of morning Helicon, and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Preferre soft-anthems to the eares of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To woo them from their beds, still murmuring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That men can sleepe while they their mattens sing:<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Most divine service) whose so early lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prevents the eye-lidds of the blushing Day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There you might heare her kindle her soft voyce,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the close murmur of a sparkling noyse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lay the ground-worke of her hopefull song,<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still keeping in the forward streame, so long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till a sweet whirle-wind (striving to get out)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaves her soft bosome, wanders round about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And makes a pretty earthquake in her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the fledg'd notes at length forsake their nest,<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fluttering in wanton shoales, and to the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wing'd with their owne wild ecchos, pratling fly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shee opes the floodgate, and lets loose a tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of streaming sweetnesse, which in state doth ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the wav'd backe of every swelling straine,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rising and falling in a pompous traine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while she thus discharges a shrill peale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of flashing aires; she qualifies their zeale<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the coole epode of a graver noat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus high, thus low, as if her silver throat<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would reach the brazen voyce of War's hoarce bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her little soule is ravisht: and so pour'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into loose extasies, that she is plac't<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above her selfe, Musick's Enthusiast.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shame now and anger mixt a double staine<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the Musitian's face; yet once againe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Mistresse) I come; now reach a straine my lute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above her mocke, or be for ever mute;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or tune a song of victory to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or to thy selfe, sing thine own obsequie:<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So said, his hands sprightly as fire, he flings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with a quavering coynesse tasts the strings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet-lip't sisters, musically frighted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing their feares, are fearefully delighted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trembling as when Appolo's golden haires<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are fan'd and frizled, in the wanton ayres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his own breath: which marryed to his lyre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth tune the spheares, and make Heaven's selfe looke higher.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From this to that, from that to this he flyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feeles Musick's pulse in all her arteryes;<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught in a net which there Apollo spreads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fingers struggle with the vocall threads.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Following those little rills, he sinkes into<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sea of Helicon; his hand does goe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those pathes of sweetnesse which with nectar drop,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softer than that which pants in Hebe's cup.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The humourous strings expound his learnèd touch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By various glosses; now they seeme to grutch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murmur in a buzzing dinne, then gingle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In shrill-tongu'd accents: striving to be single.<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every smooth turne, every delicious stroake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives life to some new grace; thus doth h' invoke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweetnesse by all her names; thus, bravely thus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Fraught with a fury so harmonious)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lute's light genius now does proudly rise,<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heav'd on the surges of swolne rapsodyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose flourish (meteor-like) doth curle the aire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flash of high-borne fancyes: here and there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dancing in lofty measures, and anon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Creeps on the soft touch of a tender tone;<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose trembling murmurs melting in wild aires<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Runs to and fro, complaining his sweet cares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because those pretious mysteryes that dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Musick's ravish't soule, he dares not tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But whisper to the world: thus doe they vary<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each string his note, as if they meant to carry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their Master's blest soule (snatcht out at his eares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By a strong extasy) through all the spheares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Musick's heaven; and seat it there on high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In th' empyræum of pure harmony.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length (after so long, so loud a strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the strings, still breathing the best life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of blest variety, attending on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fingers fairest revolution<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In many a sweet rise, many as sweet a fall)<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A full-mouth'd diapason swallowes all.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This done, he lists what she would say to this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she, (although her breath's late exercise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had dealt too roughly with her tender throate,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet summons all her sweet powers for a noate.<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! in vaine! for while (sweet soule!) she tryes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To measure all those wild diversities<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of chatt'ring strings, by the small size of one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poore simple voyce, rais'd in a naturall tone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She failes, and failing grieves, and grieving dyes.<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She dyes: and leaves her life the Victor's prise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falling upon his lute: O, fit to have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(That liv'd so sweetly) dead, so sweet a grave!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In our Essay we give the original Latin of this very remarkable +poem, that the student may see how <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> has +ennobled and transfigured <span class="smcap">Strada</span>. Still further to show how +much we owe to our Poet, I print here (<i>a</i>) An anonymous translation, +which I discovered at the British Museum in Additional +<span class="smcap">mss.</span> 19.268; never before printed. (<i>b</i>) Sir <span class="smcap">Francis Wortley's</span> +translation from his 'Characters and Elegies' (1646). In the +former I have been obliged to leave one or two words unfilled-in +as illegible in the <span class="smcap">ms.</span></p> + + +<p class="center">(<i>a</i>) <i>The Musicke Warre between y<sup>e</sup> Fidler and the Nightingale.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nowe had greate Sol y<sup>e</sup> middle orbe forsooke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When as a fidler by a slidinge brooke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With shadie bowers was guarded from y<sup>e</sup> aire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on his fidle plaid away his care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A nightingale hid in the leaues there stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The muse and harmeles Syren of the wood;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shee snatcht y<sup>e</sup> soundes and with an echo prates:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What his hand playde her voice reiterates.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perceavinge how y<sup>e</sup> listninge bird did sit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Y<sup>e</sup> fidler faine would make some sport with it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And neately stroke y<sup>e</sup> lute; then she began<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through those notes ran glib division;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then with quicke hand he strikes y<sup>e</sup> tremblinge strings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now with a skilfull negligence he flings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His carelesse armes, then softly playes his part:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shee begins and answers art with art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now as if vncertaine how to singe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lengthens her notes and choisest art doth bringe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And interminglinge softer notes with shrill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daintily quavers through her trembling bill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Y<sup>e</sup> fidler wonders such melodious notes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shold haue proceedinges from soe slender throats;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tryes her againe, then loudly spoke y<sup>e</sup>....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometimes graue were y<sup>e</sup> tones, sometimes....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then high, then lowe againe, y<sup>n</sup> sweetly iarrs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just like a trumpet callinge men to warrs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus did y<sup>e</sup> dainty Philomela doe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with hoarse voice sange an alarme too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fidler blusht, and al in ragg [<i>i.e.</i> rage] he went<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About to breake his conquerèd instrument,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yet suspectinge lest ambitious shee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shold to the woods warble her victory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strikes with inimitable blowes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flies through all the strings, now these, now those,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then tryes the notes, labours in each strayne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then expects if shee replyed agayne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poore harmonious bird now almost dombe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But impatient, to be overcome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calls her sweet strength together all in vayne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For while shee thinkes to imitate each strayne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In pure and natiue language, in this strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dayntie musicke warre shee left her life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yeldinge to the gladsome conquerour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls in his fidle: a fit sepulchere.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span></div></div> + +<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>From 'Characters and Elegies.' By Francis Wortley, knight and +baronet: 1646</i> (p. 66). <i>A Paraphrase upon the Verses which +Famianus Strada made of the Lutanist and Philomell in Contestation.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'When past the middle orbe the parching sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had downward nearer our horizon run<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Lutenist neare Tiber's streames had found<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Where the eccho did resound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under a holme a shady bower he made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To ease his cares, his severall phancies play'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The philomell no sooner did the musicke hear<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But straight-wayes she drew neare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The harmlesse Syren, musicke of the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hid in a leavy-bush, she hearking stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She ruminates upon the ayers he plaid,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And to him answers made.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her shirl voyce doth all his paines requite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost not one note, but to his play sung right;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well pleased to heare her skil, and envy, he<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Tryes his variety.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dares her with his severall notes, runs throw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even all the strains his skill could reach unto:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand wayes he tryes: she answers all,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And for new straynes dares call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He could not touch a string in such a straine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which she warble and not sung it plaine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fingers could not reach to greater choice,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then she did with her voyce.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lutenist admired her narrow throat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could reach so high or fall to any note:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that which he did thinke in her most strange,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">She instantly could change.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or sharpe or flat, or meane, or quicke, or slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What ere he plaid, she the like skill would show:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if he inward did his notes recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">She answer made to all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' inraged Lutenist, he blusht for shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he could not this weake corrivall tame:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou canst answer this I'le breake my lute,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And yeild in the dispute.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said no more, but aimes at such a height<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of skill, he thought she could not imitate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shows the utmost cunning of his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And all he could command.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He tryes his strength, his active fingers flye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To every string and stop, now low, now high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And higher yet he multiplyes his skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then doth his chorus fill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then he expecting stands to try if she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His envy late would yeeld the victory:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She would not yeeld, but summons all her force<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Though tyrèd out and hoarse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She strives with various strings the lute's bast chest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirit of man, one narrow throat and chest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unequal matches, yet she's pleased that she<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Concludes victoriously.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her spirit was such she would not live to heare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lutenist bestow on her a jeere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But broken-hearted fall upon the tombe<br /></span> +<span class="i6">She choose the sweet lute's wombe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The warbling lutes doe yet their triumphs tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(With mournfull accents) of the philomell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And have usurpt the title ever since,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of harmony the prince.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The morall this, by emulation wee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May much improve both art and industry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though she deserve the name of Philomell<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Yet men must her excell.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>A third (anonymous) translation, with the Latin on the +opposite pages, I came on in <span class="smcap">Lansdowne mss.</span> 3910, Pl. lxvi. +from which extracts will be found in our Essay.</p> + +<p>In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> the heading is 'Fidicinis et Philomelæ +Bellum Musicum. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' It reads in line 79 'whence' for +'where;' adopted: line 125, 'pathes' for 'parts;' adopted: +other variations only orthographic, as is the case with the different +editions. I note these: in 1670, line 83 reads 'might +you:' line 99, 1646 misprints 'grave:' line 156, our text misprints +'full-mouth,' and so 1646; I adopt 'full-mouth'd' from +1670 and <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_PRAISE_OF_THE_SPRING" id="THE_PRAISE_OF_THE_SPRING"></a>THE PRAISE OF THE SPRING:</h2> + +<p class="center">OUT OF VIRGIL.<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All trees, all leavy groves confesse the Spring<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their gentlest friend; then, then the lands begin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To swell with forward pride, and feed desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To generation; Heaven's Almighty Sire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melts on the bosome of His love, and powres<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himselfe into her lap in fruitfull showers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by a soft insinuation, mixt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Earth's large masse, doth cherish and assist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her weake conceptions. No lone shade but rings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With chatring birds' delicious murmurings;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Venus' mild instinct (at set times) yields<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The herds to kindly meetings, then the fields<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Quick with warme Zephyre's lively breath) lay forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their pregnant bosomes in a fragrant birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each body's plump and jucy, all things full<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of supple moisture: no coy twig but will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust his beloved blossome to the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Growne lusty now): no vine so weake and young<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That feares the foule-mouth'd Auster or those stormes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the Southwest-wind hurries in his armes,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But hasts her forward blossomes, and layes out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freely layes out her leaves: nor doe I doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the world first out of chaos sprang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So smil'd the dayes, and so the tenor ran<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of their felicity. A Spring was there,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">An everlasting Spring, the jolly yeare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Led round in his great circle; no wind's breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As then did smell of Winter or of Death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Life's sweet light first shone on beasts, and when<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their hard mother Earth, sprang hardy men,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When beasts tooke up their lodging in the Wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Starres in their higher chambers: never cou'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tender growth of things endure the sence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of such a change, but that the Heav'ns indulgence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kindly supplyes sick Nature, and doth mold<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sweetly-temper'd meane, nor hot nor cold.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="WITH_A_PICTURE_SENT_TO_A_FRIEND" id="WITH_A_PICTURE_SENT_TO_A_FRIEND"></a>WITH A PICTURE SENT TO A FRIEND.<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I paint so ill, my peece had need to be<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Painted againe by some good poesie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I write so ill, my slender line is scarce<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So much as th' picture of a well-lim'd verse:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet may the love I send be true, though I<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Send not true picture, nor true poesie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both which away, I should not need to feare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My love, or feign'd or painted should appeare.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="IN_PRAISE_OF_LESSIUSS_RULE_OF" id="IN_PRAISE_OF_LESSIUSS_RULE_OF"></a>IN PRAISE OF LESSIUS'S RULE OF +HEALTH.<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Goe now, with some dareing drugg,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Baite thy disease, and while they tugg,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, to maintaine their cruell strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spend the deare treasure of thy life:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goe take physicke, doat upon<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some big-nam'd composition,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The oraculous doctors' mistick bills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Certain hard words made into pills;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what at length shalt get by these?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span><span class="i0">Onely a costlyer disease.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goe poore man, thinke what shall bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remedie 'gainst thy remedie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That which makes us have no need<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of phisick, that's phisick indeed.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heark hither, Reader: would'st thou see<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature her own physician be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would'st see a man all his own wealth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His own musick, his own health?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man, whose sober soul can tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How to wear her garments well?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her garments, that upon her sit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As garments should do) close and fit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A well-clothed soul, that's not opprest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor choked with what she should be drest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soul's sheath'd in a crystall shrine,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through which all her bright features shine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when a piece of wanton lawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thin aërial vail is drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O're Beauty's face; seeming to hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More sweetly shows the blushing bride:<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul, whose intellectuall beams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No mists do mask, no lazie steams?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A happie soul, that all the way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Heav'n, hath a Summer's day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would'st see a man whose well-warm'd bloud<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bathes him in a genuine floud?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man, whose tunèd humours be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A set of rarest harmonie?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would'st see blithe looks, fresh cheeks beguile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age? Would'st see December smile?<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would'st see a nest of roses grow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a bed of reverend snow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm thoughts, free spirits, flattering<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter's self into a Spring?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In summe, would'st see a man that can<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live to be old, and still a man?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose latest, and most leaden houres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fall with soft wings, stuck with soft flowres;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when Life's sweet fable ends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His soul and bodie part like friends:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No quarrels, murmures, no delay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A kisse, a sigh, and so away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This rare one, Reader, would'st thou see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heark hither: and thyself be he.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>Besides the reprint of 1646 as <i>supra</i>, this poem appeared in +1648 (pp. 8, 9), 1652 (pp. 126-8), where it is entitled 'Temperance. +Of the Cheap Physitian, vpon the Translation of Lessivs +(pp. 126-8):' and 1670 (pp. 108-9 and pp. 207-8, being inadvertently +printed twice). These variations are noticeable:</p> + +<p> +Line 1, in 1648 and 1652, 'Goe now and with....'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 2, in 1670, 'the' for 'thy;' and <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>, as usual, +repeats the error.</span><br /> +Line 3, in 1648 'pretious' for 'cruel:' so 1670 in 2d copy.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 9, ib. 'last' for 'length,' and 1670 'gaine' for 'get' +in 2d copy.</span><br /> +Lines 11, 12, this couplet is inadvertently dropped in 1648. +I adopt ''gainst' for 'against' from <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> in line 12.<br /> +Line 15, ib. 'wilt' for 'wouldst.'<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 18, 'physick' in 1646, 1648 and 1670 (1st copy); but +'musick' is assuredly the finer reading, as in Hygiasticon and +1670 (in 2d copy). Cf. lines 19, 20, onward, which show that +'music' was intended.</span><br /> +Line 25, in all the three editions 'a' for 'whose:' in 1670 +(2d copy) 'A soul sheath'd....'<br /> +Line 34, in 1646 'hath' for 'rides in,' and so in 1670 (1st +copy): 'hath' seems the simpler and better.<br /> +Line 35, 1646 and 1670 misinsert 'thou' before 'see.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 38, 'set' for 'seat' in the three editions (1670, 1st copy); +adopted.</span><br /> +Line 41, in 1648 'Would'st see nests of new roses grow:' +so 1670 (2d copy).<br /> +Line 46, 1646 and 1670 end here.</p> + +<p>Leonard Lessius was a learned Jesuit, born 1st October 1554, +and died 15th January 1623-4. He was professor of theology in +the University of Louvaine. His 'Hygiasticon, seu vera ratio +valetudinis bonæ et vitæ' is still readable and quick. G.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + + +<h2><a name="THE_BEGINNING_OF_HELIODORUS" id="THE_BEGINNING_OF_HELIODORUS"></a>THE BEGINNING OF HELIODORUS.<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The smiling Morne had newly wak't the Day,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tipt the mountaines with a tender ray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When on a hill (whose high imperious brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lookes downe, and sees the humble Nile below<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Licke his proud feet, and haste into the seas<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the great mouth that's nam'd from Hercules)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A band of men, rough as the armes they wore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look't round, first to the sea, then to the shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shore that shewed them, what the sea deny'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope of a prey. There to the maine-land ty'd<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ship they saw; no men she had, yet prest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appear'd with other lading, for her brest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep in the groaning waters wallowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vp to the third ring: o're the shore was spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's purple triumph; on the blushing ground<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's late forsaken houses all lay drown'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In their owne blood's deare deluge: some new dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some panting in their yet warme ruines bled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While their affrighted soules, now wing'd for flight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lent them the last flash of her glimmering light.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those yet fresh streames which crawlèd every where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shew'd that sterne Warre had newly bath'd him there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor did the face of this disaster show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Markes of a fight alone, but feasting too:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A miserable and a monstruous feast,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where hungry Warre had made himself a guest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And comming late had eat up guests and all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who prov'd the feast to their owne funerall &c.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span></div></div> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="CUPIDS_CRYER" id="CUPIDS_CRYER"></a>CUPID'S CRYER:</h2> + +<p class="center">OUT OF THE GREEKE.<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love is lost, nor can his mother<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her little fugitive discover:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She seekes, she sighes, but no where spyes him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love is lost: and thus shee cryes him.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O yes! if any happy eye,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This roaving wanton shall descry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the finder surely know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine is the wagge; 'tis I that owe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wingèd wand'rer; and that none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May thinke his labour vainely gone,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glad descryer shall not misse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tast the nectar of a kisse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Venus lipps. But as for him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That brings him to me, he shall swim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In riper joyes: more shall be his<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Venus assures him) than a kisse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lest your eye discerning slide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These markes may be your judgement's guide;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His skin as with a fiery blushing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-colour'd is; his eyes still flushing<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With nimble flames; and though his mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be ne're so curst, his tongue is kind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For never were his words in ought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Found the pure issue of his thought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The working bees' soft melting gold,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That which their waxen mines enfold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flow not so sweet as doe the tones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his tun'd accents; but if once<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His anger kindle, presently<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It boyles out into cruelty,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fraud: he makes poor mortalls' hurts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The objects of his cruell sports.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dainty curles his froward face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is crown'd about: But O what place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What farthest nooke of lowest Hell<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feeles not the strength, the reaching spell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his small hand? Yet not so small<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As 'tis powerfull therewithall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though bare his skin, his mind he covers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like a saucy bird he hovers<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wanton wing, now here, now there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Bout men and women, nor will spare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till at length he perching rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the closet of their brest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His weapon is a little bow,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet such a one as—Jove knows how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne're suffred, yet his little arrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Heaven's high'st arches to fall narrow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gold that on his quiver smiles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deceives men's feares with flattering wiles.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But O—too well my wounds can tell—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bitter shafts 'tis sauc't too well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is all cruell, cruell all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His torch imperious though but small<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes the sunne—of flames the sire—<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worse than sun-burnt in his fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wheresoe're you chance to find him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ceaze him, bring him—but first bind him—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pitty not him, but feare thy selfe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though thou see the crafty elfe,<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell down his silver-drops unto thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'r counterfeit, and will undoe thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With baited smiles if he display<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fawning cheeks, looke not that way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he offer sugred kisses,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Start, and say, the serpent hisses.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draw him, drag him, though he pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wooe, intreat, and crying say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prethee, sweet, now let me go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's my quiver, shafts and bow,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'le give thee all, take all; take heed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest his kindnesse make thee bleed.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What e're it be Loue offers, still presume<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That though it shines, 'tis fire and will consume.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span></div></div> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="VPON_BISHOP_ANDREWS_PICTURE_BEFORE" id="VPON_BISHOP_ANDREWS_PICTURE_BEFORE"></a>VPON BISHOP ANDREWS' PICTURE BEFORE +HIS SERMONS.<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This reverend shadow cast that setting sun,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose glorious course through our horrizon run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left the dimme face of this dull hemispheare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All one great eye, all drown'd in one great teare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose faire, illustrious soule, led his free thought<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Learning's vniverse, and (vainly) sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Room for her spatious selfe, untill at length<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shee found the way home, with an holy strength;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snatch't her self hence to Heaven: fill'd a bright place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mongst those immortall fires, and on the face<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her great Maker fixt her flaming eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There still to read true, pure divinity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now that grave aspect hath deign'd to shrinke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into this lesse appearance: If you thinke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis but a dead face, Art doth here bequeath:<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looke on the following leaves, and see him breath.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_A_GENTLEMAN" id="VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_A_GENTLEMAN"></a>VPON THE DEATH OF A GENTLEMAN.<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Faithlesse and fond Mortality!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who will ever credit thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fond, and faithlesse thing! that thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In our best hopes beguilest us.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What a reckoning hast thou made,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the hopes in him we laid!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For life by volumes lengthenèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A line or two to speake him dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the laurell in his verse,<br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>crape</i></span> +<span class="i0">The sullen cypresse o're his herse<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For soe many hopèd yeares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fruit, soe many fruitles teares:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a silver-crownèd head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A durty pillow in Death's bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For so deare, so deep a trust,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad requitall, thus much dust!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now though the blow that snatch him hence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stopt the mouth of Eloquence:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though shee be dumbe e're since his death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not us'd to speake but in his breath;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving his death vngarnishèd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore, because hee is dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet if at least shee not denyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sad language of our eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wee are contented: for then this<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Language none more fluent is.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing speakes our griefe so well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to speak nothing. Come then tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy mind in teares who e're thou be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ow'st a name to misery.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes are vocall, teares have tongues,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there be words not made with lungs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sententious showres: O let them fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their cadence is rhetoricall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's a theame will drinke th' expence,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all thy watry eloquence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weepe then! onely be exprest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus much, 'he's dead:' and weep the rest.<br /></span> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span></p></div></div> + + + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_MR_HERRYS" id="VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_MR_HERRYS"></a>VPON THE DEATH OF MR. HERRYS.<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A plant of noble stemme, forward and faire,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ever whisper'd to the morning aire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thriv'd in these happie grounds; the Earth's just pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose rising glories made such haste to hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His head in cloudes, as if in him alone<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impatient Nature had taught motion<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To start from Time, and cheerfully to fly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before, and seize upon Maturity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus grew this gratious tree, in whose sweet shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sunne himselfe oft wisht to sit, and made<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The morning Muses perch like birds, and sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among his branches: yea, and vow'd to bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His owne delicious phœnix from the blest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arabia, there to build her virgin nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hatch her selfe in; 'mongst his leaves, the Day<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh from the rosie East, rejoyc't to play;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To them shee gave the first and fairest beame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That waited on her birth: she gave to them<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The purest pearles, that wept her evening death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The balmy Zephirus got so sweet a breath<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By often kissing them. And now begun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad Time to ripen Expectation:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The timorous maiden-blossomes on each bough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peept forth from their first blushes; so that now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand ruddy hopes smil'd in each bud,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flatter'd every greedy eye that stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fixt in delight, as if already there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those rare fruits dangled, whence the golden Yeare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His crowne expected: when, (O Fate! O Time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That seldome lett'st a blushing youthfull prime<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hide his hot beames in shade of silver age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So rare is hoary Vertue) the dire rage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a mad storme these bloomy joyes all tore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ravisht the maiden blossoms, and downe bore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trunke. Yet in this ground his pretious root<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still lives, which when weake Time shall be pour'd out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into Eternity, and circular joyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dance in an endlesse round, again shall rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faire son of an ever-youthfull Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be a shade for angels while they sing;<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meane while who e're thou art that passest here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O doe thou water it with one kind teare.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_THE_MOST_DESIRED" id="VPON_THE_DEATH_OF_THE_MOST_DESIRED"></a>VPON THE DEATH OF THE MOST DESIRED +MR. HERRYS.<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Death, what dost? O, hold thy blow,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What thou dost thou dost not know.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death, thou must not here be cruell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is Nature's choycest iewell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is hee, in whose rare frame<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature labour'd for a name:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And meant to leave his pretious feature<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The patterne of a perfect creature.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ioy of Goodnesse, love of Art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vertue weares him next her heart.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him the Muses love to follow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him they call their vice-Apollo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apollo, golden though thou bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' art not fairer than is hee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor more lovely lift'st thy head<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Blushing) from thine Easterne bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glories of thy youth ne're knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brighter hopes than his can shew.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why then should it e're be seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That his should fade, while thine is green?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wilt thou (O, cruell boast!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put poore Nature to such cost?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, twill undoe our common mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be at charge of such another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What? thinke me to no other end<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gracious heavens do use to send<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth her best perfection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to vanish, and be gone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore onely given to day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-morrow to be snatch't away?<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've seen indeed the hopefull bud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a ruddy rose that stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blushing, to behold the ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the new-saluted Day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(His tender toppe not fully spread)<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet dash of a shower new shead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invited him, no more to hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within himselfe the purple pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his forward flower; when lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While he sweetly 'gan to show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His swelling gloryes, Auster spide him,<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cruell Auster thither hy'd him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with the rush of one rude blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sham'd not, spitefully to wast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All his leaves, so fresh, so sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span><span class="i0">And lay them trembling at his feet.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've seen the Morning's lovely ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hover o're the new-borne Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rosie wings so richly bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if she scorn'd to thinke of Night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a rugged storme, whose scowle<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made heaven's radiant face looke foule<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call'd for an untimely night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To blot the newly-blossom'd light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But were the rose's blush so rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were the Morning's smile so faire,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As is he, nor cloud, nor wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But would be courteous, would be kind.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spare him Death, ah! spare him then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spare the sweetest among men:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let not Pitty, with her teares<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keepe such distance from thine eares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But O, thou wilt not, can'st not spare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haste hath never time to heare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore if he needs must go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Fates will have it so;<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softly may he be possest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his monumentall rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safe, thou darke home of the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safe, O hide his lovèd head:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keepe him close, close in thine armes,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seal'd vpp with a thousand charmes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Pittie's sake, O, hide him quite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his mother Nature's sight;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest for griefe his losse may move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All her births abortive proue.<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>See our Essay for notice of 'Mr. Herrys.' In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span> the heading is 'An Elegie on Mr. Herris. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' It offers +these variations: lines 1 and 2, 'doest:' line 18, 'his' for 'he;' +adopted: line 29, 'given' for 'give;' adopted: line 36, 'new' for +'now;' adopted from 1648: line 50, the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> reads 'rugged' for +'ruddy;' adopted: line 58, 'ah' for 'O;' adopted: line 60, +'And let:' lines 70-71 added from the <span class="smcap">ms.</span>, where in the margin +is written 'not printed.' G.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="ANOTHER" id="ANOTHER"></a>ANOTHER.<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If ever Pitty were acquainted<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sterne Death; if e're he fainted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or forgot the cruell vigour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of an adamantine rigour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, O, here we should have knowne it,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, or no where, hee'd have showne it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For hee, whose pretious memory<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bathes in teares of every eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee, to whom our Sorrow brings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the streames of all her springs;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was so rich in grace, and nature,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all the gifts that blesse a creature;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fresh hopes of his lovely youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flourish't in so faire a growth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sweet the temple was, that shrin'd<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sacred sweetnesse of his mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That could the Fates know to relent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could they know what mercy meant,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or had ever learnt to beare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soft tincture of a teare;<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teares would now have flow'd so deepe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As might have taught Griefe how to weepe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now all their steely operation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would quite have lost the cruell fashion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sicknesse would have gladly been<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sick himselfe to have sav'd him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his feaver wish'd to prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burning onely in his love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him when Wrath it selfe had seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrath it selfe had lost his spleen.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grim Destruction here amaz'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In stead of striking, would have gaz'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even the iron-pointed pen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That notes the tragick doomes of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wet with teares, 'still'd from the eyes<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the flinty Destinies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would have learn't a softer style,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And have been asham'd to spoyle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His live's sweet story, by the hast<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span><span class="i0">Of a cruell stop, ill plac't.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the darke volume of our fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence each lease of life hath date,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where in sad particulars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The totall summe of man appeares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the short clause of mortall breath,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bound in the period of Death:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all the booke if any where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such a tearme as this, 'Spare here,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could been found, 'twould have been read,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Writ in white letters o're his head:<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or close unto his name annext,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faire glosse of a fairer text.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In briefe, if any one were free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee was that one, and onely hee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he, alas! even hee is dead,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our hope's faire harvest spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dust. Pitty, now spend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the teares that Griefe can lend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad Mortality may hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his ashes all her pride;<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With this inscription o're his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'All hope of never dying here is dead.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS</p> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> furnishes these variations: line 1, 'was:' +line 26, 't' have:' line 34, 'quotes' for 'notes:' l. 42, 'lease' for +'leafe;' adopted: line 49 omits rightly the first 'have' and spells +'bin;' the former adopted: line 50, 'wrote:' line 62, 'is' for 'lyes;' +adopted: line 23, 'steely' = hard as steel, or, as we say, iron-hearted. +The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> writes the two poems as one. G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="HIS_EPITAPH" id="HIS_EPITAPH"></a>HIS EPITAPH.<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Passenger, who e're thou art<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stay a while, and let thy heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take acquaintance of this stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before thou passest further on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This stone will tell thee, that beneath,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is entomb'd the crime of Death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ripe endowments of whose mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left his yeares so much behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That numbring of his vertues' praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death lost the reckoning of his dayes;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And believing what they told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imagin'd him exceeding old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In him Perfection did set forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strength of her united worth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him his wisdome's pregnant growth<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made so reverend, even in youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in the center of his brest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Sweet as is the phœnix' nest)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every reconcilèd Grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had their generall meeting-place.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In him Goodnesse joy'd to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Learning learne Humility.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The splendor of his birth and blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was but the glosse of his owne good.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flourish of his sober youth<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was the pride of naked truth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In composure of his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liv'd a faire, but manly grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mouth was Rhetorick's best mold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His tongue the touchstone of her gold.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What word so e're his breath kept warme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was no word now but a charme:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all persuasive Graces thence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suck't their sweetest influence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His vertue that within had root,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could not chuse but shine without.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And th' heart-bred lustre of his worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At each corner peeping forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pointed him out in all his wayes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circled round in his owne rayes:<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That to his sweetnesse, all men's eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were vow'd Love's flaming sacrifice.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Him while fresh and fragrant Time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cherisht in his golden prime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E're Hebe's hand had overlaid<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His smooth cheekes with a downy shade;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rush of Death's unruly wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept him off into his grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Enough, now (if thou canst) passe on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For now (alas!) not in this stone<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Passenger who e're thou art)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is he entomb'd, but in thy heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="AN_EPITAPH_VPON_A_YOVNG_MARRIED" id="AN_EPITAPH_VPON_A_YOVNG_MARRIED"></a>AN EPITAPH VPON A YOVNG MARRIED +COVPLE</h2> + +<p class="center">DEAD AND BVRYED TOGETHER.<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To these, whom Death again did wed,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This grave's their second marriage-bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For though the hand of Fate could force<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt sovl and body, a diuorce,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It could not sunder man and wife,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Cause they both liuèd but one life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, good Reader, Doe not weep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, the louers are asleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, sweet turtles, folded ly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the last knott that Loue could ty.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though they ly as they were dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their pillow stone, their sheetes of lead;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Pillow hard, and sheetes not warm)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loue made the bed; they'l take no harm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let them sleep: let them sleep on,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till this stormy night be gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the æternall morrow dawn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the curtaines will be drawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they wake into a light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose Day shall neuer sleepe in Night.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> the heading is 'Epitaphium Conjugum +vnà mortuor. et sepultor. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' It was reprinted in 1648 +'Delights' (p. 26), where it is entitled as <i>supra</i>, and 1670 (p. 95). +Our text is that of 1648, which yields the five lines (11-14), and +which <span class="smcap">Ellis</span> in his 'Specimens' (iii. 208, 1845) introduced from +a <span class="smcap">ms.</span> copy, but as doubtful from not having appeared in any of +the editions; a mistake on his part, as the lines appear in 1648 +and 1652. His note is, nevertheless, 'The lines included in +brackets are in <i>no printed edition</i>: they were found in a <span class="smcap">ms.</span> +copy, and are perhaps not Crashaw's.' As usual, <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> +overlooked them. I add a few slight various readings from +1646.</p> + +<p> +Line 2, 'the.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 5, 'sever.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 6, 'Because they both liv'd but one life.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 10, I accept 'that' in 1646 and <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> as it is +confirmed by <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span> 6917-18, as before.</span><br /> +Line 17, I adopt 'And' for 'Till' from 1648.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 19, 'waken with that Light,' and so <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span>: +1648 reads 'And they wake into that Light:' <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span> as +before, 'And they waken with.'</span><br /> +Line 20, 'sleep' for 'dy,' which I adopt as agreeing with the +'wake,' and as being confirmed by <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span> as before. G.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> +</p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="DEATHS_LECTVRE_AND_THE_FVNERAL_OF" id="DEATHS_LECTVRE_AND_THE_FVNERAL_OF"></a>DEATH'S LECTVRE AND THE FVNERAL OF +A YOVNG GENTLEMAN.<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear reliques of a dislodg'd sovl, whose lack<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes many a mourning paper put on black!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O stay a while, ere thou draw in thy head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wind thy self vp close in thy cold bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stay but a little while, vntill I call<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A summon's worthy of thy funerall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come then, Youth, Beavty, Blood! all ye soft powres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose sylken flatteryes swell a few fond howres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a false æternity. Come man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hyperbolizèd nothing! know thy span;<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take thine own measure here, down, down, and bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before thy self in thine idæa; thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Huge emptynes! contract thy bulke; and shrinke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All thy wild circle to a point. O sink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lower and lower yet; till thy leane size<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call Heaun to look on thee with narrow eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lesser and lesser yet; till thou begin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show a face, fitt to confesse thy kin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy neighbourhood to Nothing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud lookes, and lofty eyliddes, here putt on<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your selues in your vnfaign'd reflexion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, gallant ladyes! this vnpartiall glasse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Through all your painting) showes you your true face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These death-seal'd lippes are they dare giue the ly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the lowd boasts of poor Mortality;<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These curtain'd windows, this retirèd eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Outstares the liddes of larg-look't Tyranny.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This posture is the braue one, this that lyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus low, stands vp (me thinkes) thus and defies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World. All-daring dust and ashes! only you<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all interpreters read Nature true.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>These various readings are worthy of record:</p> + +<p>Line 7 in our text (1652) is misprinted as two lines, the first +ending with 'blood,' a repeated blunder of the Paris printer. +It reads also 'the' for 'ye' of 1646. I adopt the latter. I have +also cancelled 'and' before 'blood' as a misprint.<br /> +Line 8 in 1652 is misprinted 'svlken' for 'sylken.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 12, ib. 'thy self,' and so in 1648 and 1670: 'bulke' from +1646 is preferable, and so adopted.</span><br /> +Line 15, 1646 has 'small' for 'lean,' which is inferior.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 16, our text (1652) misspells 'norrow.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 19, in 1646 the readings here are,</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thy neighbourhood to nothing I here put on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy selfe in this unfeign'd reflection.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +1648 and our text as given. 'Nothing' is intended to rhyme +with 'kin' and 'begin,' and so to form a triplet.<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> +Line 23, our text (1652), 1648 and 1670 read 'Though ye +be painted:' 1646 reads 'Through all your painting,' which is +much more powerful, and therefore adopted by us. It reminds +us (from line 22, 'gallant ladyes') of Hamlet's apostrophe to +the skull of poor Yorick.<br /> +Line 25, 1646 reads poorly,</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'To the proud hopes of poor Mortality.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 26, in 1646 reads curiously, 'this selfe-prison'd eye.' G.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="AN_EPITAPH_VPON_DOCTOR_BROOKE" id="AN_EPITAPH_VPON_DOCTOR_BROOKE"></a>AN EPITAPH VPON DOCTOR BROOKE.<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Brooke, whose streame so great, so good,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was lov'd, was honour'd, as a flood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose bankes the Muses dwelt upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than their owne Helicon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here at length, hath gladly found<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A quiet passage under ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meane while his lovèd bankes, now dry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Muses with their teares supply.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_h.png" width="200" height="74" alt="Decoration H" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="ON_A_FOULE_MORNING_BEING_THEN_TO" id="ON_A_FOULE_MORNING_BEING_THEN_TO"></a>ON A FOULE MORNING, BEING THEN TO +TAKE A JOURNEY.<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where art thou Sol, while thus the blind-fold Day<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Staggers out of the East, loses her way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stumbling on Night? Rouze thee illustrious youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let no dull mists choake thy Light's faire growth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Point here thy beames: O glance on yonder flocks,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make their fleeces golden as thy locks.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnfold thy faire front, and there shall appeare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full glory, flaming in her owne free spheare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gladnesse shall cloath the Earth, we will instile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The face of things, an universall smile.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say to the sullen Morne, thou com'st to court her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wilt command proud Zephirus to sport her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wanton gales: his balmy breath shall licke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tender drops which tremble on her cheeke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which rarified, and in a gentle raine<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">On those delicious bankes distill'd againe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall rise in a sweet Harvest, which discloses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two ever-blushing bed[s] of new-borne roses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee'l fan her bright locks, teaching them to flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And friske in curl'd mæanders: hee will throw<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fragrant breath suckt from the spicy nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O' th' pretious phœnix, warme upon her breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee with a dainty and soft hand will trim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brush her azure mantle, which shall swim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In silken volumes; wheresoe're shee'l tread,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright clouds like golden fleeces shall be spread.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rise then (faire blew-ey'd maid!) rise and discover<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy silver brow, and meet thy golden lover.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See how hee runs, with what a hasty flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into thy bosome, bath'd with liquid light.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly, fly prophane fogs, farre hence fly away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taint not the pure streames of the springing Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With your dull influence; it is for you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sit and scoule upon Night's heavy brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not on the fresh cheekes of the virgin Morne,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where nought but smiles, and ruddy joyes are worne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly then, and doe not thinke with her to stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let it suffice, shee'l weare no maske to day.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> this is headed 'An Invitation to faire +weather. In itinere adurgeretur matutinum cœlum tali carmine +invitabatur serenitas. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' In line 12 the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> reads 'smooth' +for 'proud' (<span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> here, after 1670, as usual misreads 'demand' +for 'command'): line 18 corrects the misreading of all +the editions, which is 'To every blushing...:' line 23 reads +'soft and dainty:' line 36, 'is' for 'are:' other orthographic differences +only.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span></p> + +<p>The opening lines of this poem seem to be adapted from remembrance +of the Friar's in <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'The grey-eyed Morn smiles on the frowning Night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">. . . . . .<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flecked Darkness like a drunkard reels<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From forth Day's path and Titan's burning wheels.' (ii. 3.)<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p> +Line 4, in <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span> 6917-18 reads, as I have adopted,<br /> +'thy' for 'the.'<br /> +Line 5, ib. 'on yond faire.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 7, ib. 'Unfold thy front and then....'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 9, instile is = instill, used in Latinate sense of drop</span><br /> +into or upon: <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span>, as before, is 'enstile.'<br /> +Line 14, <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span>, as before, 'thy' for 'her.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 16, ib. 'these.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 17-18, ib.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">. . . . . . . 'and disclose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">. . . . . . the new-born rose.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>See our Essay for critical remarks. G.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="TO_THE_MORNING" id="TO_THE_MORNING"></a>TO THE MORNING:</h2> + +<p class="center">SATISFACTION FOR SLEEPE.<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What succour can I hope my Muse shall send<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose drowsinesse hath wrong'd the Muses' friend?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hope, Aurora, to propitiate thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnlesse the Muse sing my apologie?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O in that morning of my shame! when I<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay folded up in Sleepe's captivity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How at the sight did'st thou draw back thine eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into thy modest veyle? how didst thou rise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twice dy'd in thine owne blushes! and did'st run<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To draw the curtaines, and awake the sun!<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, rowzing his illustrious tresses, came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seeing the loath'd object, hid for shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His head in thy faire bosome, and still hides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mee from his patronage; I pray, he chides:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pointing to dull Morpheus, bids me take<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My owne Apollo, try if I can make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Lethe be my Helicon: and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Morpheus have a Muse to wait on mee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence 'tis, my humble fancie finds no wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No nimble rapture starts to Heaven, and brings<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enthusiasticke flames, such as can give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marrow to my plumpe genius, make it live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drest in the glorious madnesse of a Muse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose feet can walke the milky way, and chuse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her starry throne; whose holy heats can warme<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grave, and hold up an exalted arme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lift me from my lazy vrne, to climbe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon the stoopèd shoulders of old Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trace Eternity—But all is dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All these delicious hopes are buried<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the deepe wrinckles of his angry brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Mercy cannot find them: but O thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright lady of the Morne! pitty doth lye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So warme in thy soft brest, it cannot dye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have mercy then, and when he next shall rise<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O meet the angry God, invade his eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stroake his radiant cheekes; one timely kisse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will kill his anger, and revive my blisse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So to the treasure of thy pearly deaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice will I pay three teares, to show how true<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My griefe is; so my wakefull lay shall knocke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At th' orientall gates, and duly mocke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The early larkes' shrill orizons, to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An anthem at the Daye's nativitie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the same rosie-finger'd hand of thine,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shuts Night's dying eyes, shall open mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But thou, faint God of Sleepe, forget that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was ever known to be thy votary.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more my pillow shall thine altar be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor will I offer any more to thee<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My selfe a melting sacrifice; I'me borne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Againe a fresh child of the buxome Morne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heire of the sun's first beames. Why threat'st thou so?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou shake thy leaden scepter? goe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bestow thy poppy upon wakefull Woe,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sicknesse, and Sorrow, whose pale lidds ne're know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy downie finger; dwell upon their eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shut in their teares: shut out their miseries.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In 1646, line 1, for 'shall' reads 'will:' ib. in <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span> +as before, 'my' for 'the Muse;' which I adopt here, but not in +next line: line 9, ib. 'thy:' line 11, illustrious is = lustrous, +radiant: <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span> as before, line 19, 'this my humble:' +line 20, 1646 misprints 'raptures:' line 27, 1670 has 'and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> +climb:' line 28, 1646 has 'stooped' for 'stooping' of 1648; infinitely +superior, and therefore adopted: 1670 misprints 'stopped:' +the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> has 'stooping:' line 45, <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span> as +before, 'thy altar.' Further: in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> this poem +is headed 'Ad Auroram Somnolentiæ expiatio. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>,' and it +supplies these various readings: line 1, 'will:' line 7, 'call +back:' line 16, 'my' for 'mine;' line 20-21, 'winge' and +'bringe:' line 40, 'treasures:' other orthographic differences +only. See Essay, as in last poem. G.</p> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h2><a name="LOVES_HOROSCOPE" id="LOVES_HOROSCOPE"></a>LOVE'S HOROSCOPE.<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love, brave Vertue's younger brother,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Erst hath made my heart a mother;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shee consults the conscious spheares<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To calculate her young son's yeares.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shee askes, if sad, or saving powers,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gave omen to his infant howers;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shee askes each starre that then stood by,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If poore Love shall live or dy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, my heart, is that the way?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are these the beames that rule thy day?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou know'st a face in whose each looke,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beauty layes ope Love's fortune-booke;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On whose faire revolutions wait<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The obsequious motions of man's fate:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, my heart, her eyes, and shee,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Have taught thee new astrologie.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How e're Love's native houres were set,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What ever starry synod met,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis in the mercy of her eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If poore Love shall live or dye.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If those sharpe rayes putting on<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Points of death, bid Love be gon:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Though the Heavens in counsell sate<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To crowne an uncontroulèd fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though their best aspects twin'd upon<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The kindest constellation,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cast amorous glances on his birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And whisper'd the confederate Earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To pave his pathes with all the good,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That warmes the bed of youth and blood)<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love hath no plea against her eye:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beauty frownes, and Love must dye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But if her milder influence move,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And gild the hopes of humble Love:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Though Heaven's inauspicious eye<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lay blacke on Love's nativitie;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though every diamond in Love's crowne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fixt his forehead to a frowne:)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her eye, a strong appeale can giue,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span> +<span class="i1">Beauty smiles, and Love shall live.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, if Love shall live, O, where<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But in her eye, or in her eare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In her brest, or in her breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall I hide poore Love from Death?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For in the life ought else can give,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love shall dye, although he live.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or, if Love shall dye, O, where<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But in her eye, or in her eare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In her breath, or in her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall I build his funerall nest?<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">While Love shall thus entombèd lye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love shall live, although he dye.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>In line 16 the heavens are the planets. To 'crown' his fate +is to invest it with regal power, and so place it beyond control. +It is doubtful whether 'uncontrouled' expresses that state or +result of crowning, or whether the clause is hyperbolical, and +means to put further beyond control an already uncontrolled +fate. 'Twin'd' seems a strange word to use, but refers, I presume, +to the apparently irregular and winding-like motions of +the planets through the constellations until they result in the +favourable aspects mentioned. According to astrology, the +beneficence or maleficence of the planetary aspects varies with +the nature of the constellation in which they occur. <span class="smcap">Henry +Vaughan</span>, Silurist, uses 'wind' very much as <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> uses +'twin'd:' see <i>s.v.</i> in our edition.</p> + +<p>In line 14 we have accepted the reading 'man's' for 'Loves' +from the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="A_SONG" id="A_SONG"></a>A SONG:</h2> + +<p class="center">OUT OF THE ITALIAN.<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">To thy lover<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deere, discover<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sweet blush of thine that shameth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">—When those roses<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It discloses—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the flowers that Nature nameth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">In free ayre,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flow thy haire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That no more Summer's best dresses,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bee beholden<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For their golden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Locks, to Phœbus' flaming tresses.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O deliver<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love his quiver;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thy eyes he shoots his arrowes:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where Apollo<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cannot follow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Featherd with his mother's sparrowes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O envy not<br /></span> +<span class="i1">—That we dye not—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those deere lips whose doore encloses<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the Graces<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In their places,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brother pearles, and sister roses.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">From these treasures<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of ripe pleasures<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One bright smile to cleere the weather.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Earth and Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus made even,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both will be good friends together.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The aire does wooe thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Winds cling to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might a word once fly from out thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Storme and thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would sit under,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And keepe silence round about thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">But if Nature's<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Common creatures,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So deare glories dare not borrow:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet thy beauty<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Owes a duty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my loving, lingring sorrow,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">When to end mee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Death shall send mee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All his terrors to affright mee:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thine eyes' Graces<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gild their faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And those terrors shall delight mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">When my dying<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Life is flying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those sweet aires that often slew mee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall revive mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or reprive mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to many deaths renew mee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="OUT_OF_THE_ITALIAN_2" id="OUT_OF_THE_ITALIAN_2"></a>OUT OF THE ITALIAN.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love now no fire hath left him,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">We two betwixt us have divided it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your eyes the light hath reft him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heat commanding in my heart doth sit.<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O that poore Love be not for ever spoyled,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let my heat to your light be reconciled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So shall these flames, whose worth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now all obscurèd lyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Drest in those beames—start forth<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> +<span class="i1">And dance before your eyes.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Or else partake my flames<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(I care not whither)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And so in mutuall names<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Love, burne both together.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="OUT_OF_THE_ITALIAN_3" id="OUT_OF_THE_ITALIAN_3"></a>OUT OF THE ITALIAN.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would any one the true cause find<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">How Love came nak't, a boy, and blind?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis this: listning one day too long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So th' Syrens in my mistris' song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The extasie of a delight<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So much o're-mastring all his might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that one sense, made all else thrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And so he lost his clothes, eyes, heart and all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="VPON_THE_FRONTISPEECE_OF_MR_ISAACKSONS" id="VPON_THE_FRONTISPEECE_OF_MR_ISAACKSONS"></a>VPON THE FRONTISPEECE OF MR. ISAACKSON'S +CHRONOLOGIE.<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let hoary Time's vast bowels be the grave<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To what his bowels' birth and being gave;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Nature die, (Phœnix-like) from death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revivèd Nature takes a second breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If on Time's right hand, sit faire Historie,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If from the seed of emptie Ruine, she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can raise so faire an harvest; let her be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne're so farre distant, yet Chronologie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Sharp-sighted as the eagle's eye, that can<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out-stare the broad-beam'd daye's meridian)<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will have a perspicill to find her out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, through the night of error and dark doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discerne the dawne of Truth's eternall ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when the rosie Morne budds into Day.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now that Time's empire might be amply fill'd,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Babel's bold artists strive (below) to build<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruine a temple; on whose fruitfull fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">History reares her pyramids, more tall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than were th' Aegyptian (by the life these give,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> +<span class="i0">Th' Egyptian pyramids themselves must live):<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">On these she lifts the world; and on their base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showes the two termes, and limits of Time's race:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, the creation is; the judgement, this;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, the World's morning; this, her midnight is.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">NOTE.</p> + +<p>As explained in preceding Note, I add here the poem so long +misassigned to <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="ON_THE_FRONTISPIECE_OF_ISAACSONS" id="ON_THE_FRONTISPIECE_OF_ISAACSONS"></a>ON THE FRONTISPIECE OF ISAACSON'S +CHRONOLOGIE EXPLAINED.</h2> + +<p class="center">BY DR. EDWARD RAINBOW, BISHOP OF CARLISLE.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If with distinctive eye, and mind, you looke<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon the Front, you see more than one Booke.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Creation is God's Booke, wherein He writ<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each creature, as a letter filling it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">History is Creation's Booke; which showes<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To what effects the Series of it goes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chronologie's the Booke of Historie, and beares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The just account of Dayes, Moneths, and Yeares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Resurrection, in a later Presse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And New Edition, is the summe of these.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Language of these Bookes had all been one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had not th' aspiring Tower of Babylon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Confus'd the tongues, and in a distance hurl'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As farre the speech, as men, o' th' new fill'd world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Set then your eyes in method, and behold<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time's embleme, Saturne; who, when store of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coyn'd the first age, devour'd that birth, he fear'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till History, Time's eldest child appear'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Phœnix-like, in spight of Saturne's rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forc'd from her ashes, heyres in every age.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">From th' Rising Sunne, obtaining by just suit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Spring's ingender, and an Autumne's fruit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who in those Volumes at her motion pend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnto Creation's Alpha doth extend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Againe ascend, and view Chronology,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By optick skill, pulling farre History<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neerer; whose Hand the piercing Eagle's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strengthens, to bring remotest objects nigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnder whose feet, you see the Setting Sunne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the darke Gnomon, o're her volumes runne,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drown'd in eternall night, never to rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Resurrection show it to the eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Earth-worne men; and her shrill trumpet's sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Affright the Bones of mortals from the ground.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Columnes both are crown'd with either Sphere,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show Chronology and History beare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No other Culmen than the double Art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Astronomy, Geography, impart.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span></div></div> + + + + +<h2><a name="AN_EPITAPH_VPON_MR_ASHTON" id="AN_EPITAPH_VPON_MR_ASHTON"></a>AN EPITAPH VPON MR. ASHTON,</h2> + +<p class="center">A CONFORMABLE CITIZEN.<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The modest front of this small floore,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beleeve me, Reader, can say more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than many a braver marble can;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Here lyes a truly honest man.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">One whose conscience was a thing,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That troubled neither Church nor King.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of those few that in this towne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honour all Preachers, heare their owne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sermons he heard, yet not so many<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As left no time to practise any.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heard them reverendly, and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His practice preach'd them o're agen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Parlour-Sermons rather were<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those to the eye, then to the eare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His prayers took their price and strength,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not from the lowdnesse, nor the length.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was a Protestant at home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not onely in despight of Rome.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lov'd his Father; yet his zeale<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span><span class="i0">Tore not off his Mother's veile.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To th' Church he did allow her dresse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True Beauty, to true Holinesse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace, which he lov'd in life, did lend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hand to bring him to his end.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Age and Death call'd for the score,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No surfets were to reckon for.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death tore not—therefore—but sans strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gently untwin'd his thread of life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What remaines then, but that thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Write these lines, Reader, in thy brow,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by his faire example's light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burne in thy imitation bright.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So while these lines can but bequeath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A life perhaps unto his death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His better Epitaph shall bee,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His life still kept alive in thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="OUT_OF_CATULLUS" id="OUT_OF_CATULLUS"></a>OUT OF CATULLUS.<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come and let us live my deare,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us love and never feare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the sowrest fathers say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brightest Sol that dyes to day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lives againe as blith to morrow;<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if we darke sons of sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Set: O then how long a Night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shuts the eyes of our short light!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then let amorous kisses dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On our lips, begin and tell<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand, and a hundred score,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An hundred and a thousand more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till another thousand smother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, and that wipe of[f] another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus at last when we have numbred<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many a thousand, many a hundred,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wee'l confound the reckoning quite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lose our selves in wild delight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While our joyes so multiply,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As shall mocke the envious eye.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="WISHES" id="WISHES"></a>WISHES.</h2> + +<p class="center">TO HIS (SUPPOSED) MISTRESSE.<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">1. Who ere she be,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That not impossible she<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That shall command my heart and me;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">2. Where ere she lye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lock't up from mortall eye,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In shady leaves of Destiny;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">3. Till that ripe birth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of studied Fate stand forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And teach her faire steps tread our Earth;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">4. Till that divine<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Idæa, take a shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of chrystall flesh, through which to shine;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">5. Meet you her, my wishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bespeake her to my blisses,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And be ye call'd, my absent kisses.<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">6. I wish her, beauty<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That owes not all its duty<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To gaudy tire or glistring shoo-ty.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">7. Something more than<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Taffata or tissew can,<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or rampant feather, or rich fan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">8. More than the spoyle<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of shop, or silkeworme's toyle,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or a bought blush, or a set smile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">9. A face that's best<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By its owne beauty drest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And can alone commend the rest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">10. A face made up,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Out of no other shop<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than what Nature's white hand sets ope.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">11. A cheeke where Youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And blood, with pen of Truth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Write, what their reader sweetly ru'th.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">12. A cheeke where growes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More than a morning rose:<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which to no boxe his being owes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">13. Lipps, where all day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A lover's kisse may play,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet carry nothing thence away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">14. Lookes that oppresse<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their richest tires, but dresse<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Themselves in simple nakednesse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">15. Eyes, that displace<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The neighbour diamond, and out-face<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That sunshine, by their own sweet grace.<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">16. Tresses, that weare<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Iewells, but to declare<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How much themselves more pretious are.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">17. Whose native ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can tame the wanton day<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of gems, that in their bright shades play.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">18. Each ruby there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or pearle that dares appeare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be its own blush, be its own teare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">19. A well tam'd heart,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For whose more noble smart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love may be long chusing a dart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">20. Eyes, that bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Full quivers on Love's bow;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet pay lesse arrowes than they owe.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">21. Smiles, that can warme<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The blood, yet teach a charme,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That Chastity shall take no harme.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">22. Blushes, that bin<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The burnish of no sin,<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor flames of ought too hot within.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">23. Ioyes, that confesse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vertue their mistresse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And have no other head to dresse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">24. Feares, fond, and flight,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As the coy bride's, when Night<br /></span> +<span class="i1">First does the longing lover right.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">25. Teares, quickly fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And vaine, as those are shed<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> +<span class="i1">For a dying maydenhead.<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">26. Dayes, that need borrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No part of their good morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From a fore-spent night of sorrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">27. Dayes, that in spight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of darknesse, by the light<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of a cleere mind are day all night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">28. Nights, sweet as they,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Made short by lovers play,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet long by th' absence of the day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">29. Life, that dares send<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A challenge to his end,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And when it comes say, Welcome friend!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">30. Sydnæan showers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of sweet discourse, whose powers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can crown old Winter's head with flowers.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">31. Soft silken hours;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Open sunnes; shady bowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Bove all, nothing within that lowers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">32. What ere delight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can make Daye's forehead bright,<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or give downe to the wings of Night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">33. In her whole frame,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haue Nature all the name,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Art and ornament the shame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">34. Her flattery,<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Picture and Poesy,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her counsell her owne vertue be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">35. I wish her store<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of worth may leave her poore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of wishes; and I wish——no more.<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">36. Now if Time knowes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That her, whose radiant browes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Weave them a garland of my vowes;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">37. Her whose just bayes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My future hopes can raise,<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A trophie to her present praise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">38. Her that dares be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What these lines wish to see:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I seeke no further: it is she.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">39. 'Tis she, and here<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo I uncloath and cleare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My wishes cloudy character.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">40. May she enjoy it,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose merit dare apply it,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But Modesty dares still deny it.<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">41. Such worth as this is<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall fixe my flying wishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And determine them to kisses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">42. Let her full glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My fancyes, fly before ye,<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be ye my fictions; but her story.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span> 6917-18, as before, gives an admirable +reading, corrective of all the editions in st. 3, line 3. Hitherto +it has run, 'And teach her faire steps to our Earth:' the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> as +given by us 'tread' for 'to:' ib. st. 5, line 1, reads 'Meete her +my wishes;' perhaps preferable: st. 6, I accept 'its' for 'his' +from 1670 edition: st. 7, 'than'=then, and is spelled 'then' +here and elsewhere in 1646 and 1670: st. 8, line 3, <span class="smcap">Harleian +ms.</span> reads 'Or a bowe, blush, or a set smile;' inferior: st. 9, ib. +reads 'commend' for 'command;' adopted: st. 11, ib. 'their' for +'the;' adopted: st. 14, ib. spells 'tyers,' and line 3 reads as we +print for 'And cloath their simplest nakednesse,' which is +clumsy and poor: st. 15: Here, as in the poem, 'On the bleeding +wounds of our crucified Lord' (st. 6), where we read 'The +thorns that Thy blest brows encloses,' and elsewhere, we have +an example of the Elizabethan use of 'that' as a singular (referring +to and thus made a collective plural) taken as the governing +nominative to the verb. So in this poem of 'Wishes' +we have 'Eyes that bestow,' 'Joys that confess,' 'Tresses that +wear.' But it must be stated that the <span class="smcap">Harleian ms.</span>, as before, +reads not as in 1646 and 1648 'displaces,' 'out-faces' and +'graces,' but as printed by us on its authority; certainly the +rhythm is improved thereby: st. 18, line 2, ib. 'dares' for 'dare;' +adopted: st. 24, looking to 'tears quickly fled' of next stanza, +I think 'flight' is correct, and not a misprint for 'slight.' Accordingly +I have punctuated with a comma after fond, flight +being = the shrinking-away of the bride, like the Horatian fair +lady, a fugitive yet wishful of her lover's kiss: st. 31, <span class="smcap">Harleian +ms.</span> as before, 'Open sunn:' st. 42, line 3, 'be you my +fictions, she my story.' G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="TO_THE_QUEEN_1" id="TO_THE_QUEEN_1"></a>TO THE QUEEN:</h2> + +<p class="center">AN APOLOGIE FOR THE LENGTH OF THE FOLLOWING PANEGYRICK.<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When you are mistresse of the song,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mighty queen, to thinke it long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were treason 'gainst that majesty<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Vertue wears. Your modesty<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet thinks it so. But ev'n that too<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Infinite, since part of you—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New matter for our Muse supplies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so allowes what it denies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say then dread queen, how may we doe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mediate 'twixt your self and you?<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That so our sweetly temper'd song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor be too sort, nor seeme to[o] long.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Needs must your noble prayses' strength<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That made it long excuse the length.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span></p> +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="TO_THE_QUEEN_2" id="TO_THE_QUEEN_2"></a>TO THE QUEEN,</h2> + +<p class="center">VPON HER NUMEROUS PROGENIE: A PANEGYRICK.<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Britain! the mighty Ocean's lovely bride!<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now stretch thy self, fair isle, and grow: spread wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy bosome, and make roome. Thou art opprest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thine own glories, and art strangely blest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond thy self: for (lo!) the gods, the gods<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come fast upon thee; and those glorious ods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swell thy full honours to a pitch so high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As sits above thy best capacitie.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are they not ods? and glorious? that to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those mighty genii throng, which well might be<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each one an Age's labour? that thy dayes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are gilded with the union of those rayes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose each divided beam would be a sunne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To glad the sphere of any Nation?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure, if for these thou mean'st to find a seat,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' hast need, O Britain, to be truly Great.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And so thou art; their presence makes thee so:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are thy greatnesse. Gods, where-e're they go,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring their Heav'n with them: their great footsteps place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An everlasting smile upon the face<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the glad Earth they tread on: while with thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those beames that ampliate mortalitie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And teach it to expatiate and swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To majestie and fulnesse, deign to dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou by thy self maist sit, (blest Isle) and see<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How thy great mother Nature dotes on thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee therefore from the rest apart she hurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seem'd to make an Isle, but made a World.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Time yet hath dropt few plumes since Hope turn'd Joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And took into his armes the princely boy,<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose birth last blest the bed of his sweet mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bad us first salute our prince, a brother.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><i>The Prince and Duke of York.</i></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright Charles! thou sweet dawn of a glorious Day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Centre of those thy grandsires (shall I say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Henry and James? or, Mars and Phœbus rather?<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If this were Wisdome's god, that War's stern father;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis but the same is said: Henry and James<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are Mars and Phœbus under diverse names):<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O thou full mixture of those mighty souls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose vast intelligences tun'd the poles<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Peace and War; thou, for whose manly brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both lawrels twine into one wreath, and woo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be thy garland: see (sweet prince), O see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, and the lovely hopes that smile in thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art ta'n out and transcrib'd by thy great mother:<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, see thy reall shadow; see thy brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy little self in lesse: trace in these eyne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beams that dance in those full stars of thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the same snowy alabaster rock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those hands and thine were hewn; those cherries mock<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The corall of thy lips: thou wert of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This well-wrought copie the fair principall.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><i>Lady Mary.</i></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Iustly, great Nature, didst thou brag, and tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How ev'n th' hadst drawn that faithfull parallel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And matcht thy master-piece. O then go on,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make such another sweet comparison.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seest thou that Marie there? O teach her mother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shew her to her self in such another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fellow this wonder too; nor let her shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone; light such another star, and twine<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their rosie beams, that so the Morn for one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Venus, may have a constellation.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><i>Lady Elizabeth.</i></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">These words scarce waken'd Heaven, when—lo!—our vows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sat crown'd upon the noble infant's brows.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' art pair'd, sweet princesse: in this well-writ book<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read o're thy self; peruse each line, each look.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when th' hast summ'd up all those blooming blisses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close up the book, and clasp it with thy kisses.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So have I seen (to dresse their mistresse May)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two silken sister-flowers consult, and lay<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their bashfull cheeks together: newly they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peep't from their buds, show'd like the garden's eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce wak't: like was the crimson of their joyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like were the tears they wept, so like, that one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd but the other's kind reflexion.<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><i>The new-borne Prince.</i></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And now 'twere time to say, sweet queen, no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair source of princes, is thy pretious store<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not yet exhaust? O no! Heavens have no bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in their infinite and endlesse round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embrace themselves. Our measure is not their's;<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor may the pov'rtie of man's narrow prayers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Span their immensitie. More princes come:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rebellion, stand thou by; Mischief, make room:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">War, blood, and death—names all averse from Ioy—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heare this, we have another bright-ey'd boy:<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That word's a warrant, by whose vertue I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have full authority to bid you dy.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dy, dy, foul misbegotten monsters! dy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make haste away, or e'r the World's bright eye<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blush to a cloud of bloud. O farre from men<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly hence, and in your Hyperborean den<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hide you for evermore, and murmure there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where none but Hell may heare, nor our soft aire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrink at the hatefull sound. Mean while we bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High as the brow of Heaven, the noble noise<span class="linenum">95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And name of these our just and righteous joyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Envie shall not reach them, nor those eares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose tune keeps time to ought below the spheres.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But thou, sweet supernumerary starre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine forth; nor fear the threats of boyst'rous Warre.<span class="linenum">100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The face of things has therefore frown'd a while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On purpose, that to thee and thy pure smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World might ow an universall calm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thou, fair halcyon, on a sea of balm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shalt flote; where while thou layst thy lovely head,<span class="linenum">105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The angry billows shall but make thy bed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Storms, when they look on thee, shall straigt relent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tempests, when they tast thy breath, repent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whispers, soft as thine own slumbers be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or souls of virgins which shall sigh for thee.<span class="linenum">110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shine then, sweet supernumerary starre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor feare the boysterous names of bloud and warre:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy birth-day is their death's nativitie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They've here no other businesse but to die.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span></div></div> + + +<h4><i>To the Queen.</i></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But stay; what glimpse was that? why blusht the Day?<span class="linenum">115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why ran the started aire trembling away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who's this that comes circled in rayes that scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Acquaintance with the sun? what second morn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At midday opes a presence which Heaven's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands off and points at? Is't some deity<span class="linenum">120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stept from her throne of starres, deignes to be seen?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it some deity? or is't our queen?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis she, 'tis she: her awfull beauties chase<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Day's abashèd glories, and in face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of noon wear their own sunshine. O thou bright<span class="linenum">125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mistresse of wonders! Cynthia's is the Night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou at noon dost shine, and art all day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Nor does thy sun deny't) our Cynthia.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Illustrious sweetnesse! in thy faithfull wombe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That nest of heroes, all our hopes find room.<span class="linenum">130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art the mother-phenix, and thy brest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chast as that virgin honour of the East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But much more fruitfull is; nor does, as she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deny to mighty Love, a deitie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then let the Eastern world brag and be proud<span class="linenum">135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of one coy phenix, while we have a brood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A brood of phenixes: while we have brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sister-phenixes, and still the mother.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And may we long! Long may'st thou live t'increase<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span><span class="i0">The house and family of phenixes.<span class="linenum">140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor may the life that gives their eye-lids light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E're prove the dismall morning of thy night:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne're may a birth of thine be bought so dear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make his costly cradle of thy beer.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O may'st thou thus make all the year thine own,<span class="linenum">145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see such names of joy sit white upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brow of every month! and when th' hast done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mayst in a son of his find every son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repeated, and that son still in another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so in each child, often prove a mother.<span class="linenum">150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long may'st thou, laden with such clusters, lean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon thy royall elm (fair vine!) and when<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heav'ns will stay no longer, may thy glory<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And name dwell sweet in some eternall story!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Pardon (bright Excellence,) an untun'd string,<span class="linenum">155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in thy eares thus keeps a murmuring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O speake a lowly Muse's pardon, speake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her pardon, or her sentence; onely breake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy silence. Speake, and she shall take from thence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Numbers, and sweetnesse, and an influence<span class="linenum">160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Confessing thee. Or (if too long I stay,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O speake thou, and my pipe hath nought to say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For see Apollo all this while stands mute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expecting by thy voice to tune his lute.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But gods are gracious; and their altars make<span class="linenum">165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pretious the offrings that their altars take.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give then this rurall wreath fire from thine eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This rurall wreath dares be thy sacrifice.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>This poem was originally entitled (as <i>supra</i>) 'Upon the Duke +of York's Birth.' As new children were born additions were made +to it and the title altered. Cf. the Latin poem in our vol. ii. <i>ad +Reginam</i>.</p> + +<p>The children celebrated were the following: Charles James, +born May 13, 1628, died the same day; the Queen's first child: +Charles II., born May 29, 1630: James, who is placed before +his sister Mary, who was older than he; born Oct. 14, 1633; +afterwards James II.: Princess Mary, born Nov. 4, 1631, afterwards +mother of William III.: Princess Elizabeth, born Dec. +28, 1635; died of grief at her father's tragical end, Sept. 8, +1650; was buried in the church at Newport, Isle of Wight, +where her remains were found in 1793. Vaughan the Silurist +has a fine poem to her memory (our edition, vol. ii. pp. 115-17): +Anne, born March 17, 1636-7; she died Dec. 8, 1640 (Crashaw +from first to last keeps Death out of his poem): Henry, born +July 8, 1640, afterwards Duke of Gloucester and Earl of Cambridge. +Henrietta Anne, born June 16, 1644, is not named.</p> + +<p class="p2">The title in 1646 is 'Vpon the Duke of Yorke his Birth: a +Panegyricke;' and so in 1670, which throughout agrees with +that very imperfect text, except in one deplorable blunder of +its own left uncorrected by <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>, as noted below. The +heading in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> is 'A Panegyrick vpon the birth +of the Duke of Yorke. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>'</p> + +<p>Line 7, in 1646 'glories' for 'honours.' In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span> line 8 reads 'As sitts alone ....'<br /> +Line 15, ib. 'O' for 'Sure.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 16, ib. 'Th' art.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 29-32 restored from 1648. Not in <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 33. These headings here and onward omitted hitherto.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 34, in 1646 'great' for 'bright.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 43, our text (1648) misprints 'owne' for 'one' of Voces +Votivæ.</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span>Line 50, 1646 oddly misprints 'these Cherrimock.'<br /> +Line 52, 1646, 'art' for 'wert.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 54, ib. 'may'st' for 'did'st.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 55, ib. 'th' art' for 'th' hadst.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 64-70 restored from 1648. Not in <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 74, 1646, 'pearls' for 'tears.' So the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 78-118, all these lines—most characteristic—restored +from 1648. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> overlooked them. Not in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span></span><br /> +Line 140, 1670 drops a line here, and thus confuses, +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'A brood of phenixes, and still the mother:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And may we long: long may'st thou live t' encrease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The house,' &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peregrine Phillips</span> in his selections from <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> (1785), following +the text of 1670, says in a foot-note, 'A line seems +wanting, but is so in the original copy.' <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> follows +suit and says, 'Here a line seems deficient.' If either had consulted +the 'original' editions, which both professed to know, it +would have saved them from this and numerous kindred blunders.</p> + +<p> +Line 145, 1646, 'light' for 'life.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 151, ib. 'that's.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 170, ib. 'their' for 'the offerings.'</span> +</p> + +<p>In line 27 'Thee therefore &c.' is a thought not unfrequent +with the panegyrists of James. <span class="smcap">Ben Jonson</span> makes use of it +at least twice. In the Masque of Blackness we have,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'With that great name Britannia, this blest isle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath won her ancient dignity and style;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A world divided from a world, and tried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The abstract of it, in his general pride.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> used the same thought more nobly when he made +it the theme of that glorious outburst of patriotism from the +lips of the dying Gaunt. G.</p> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_b.png" width="200" height="78" alt="Decoration B" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="VPON_TWO_GREENE_APRICOCKES_SENT_TO" id="VPON_TWO_GREENE_APRICOCKES_SENT_TO"></a>VPON TWO GREENE APRICOCKES SENT TO +COWLEY BY SIR CRASHAW.<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Take these, Time's tardy truants, sent by me<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be chastis'd (sweet friend) and chide by thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale sons of our Pomona! whose wan cheekes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have spent the patience of expecting weekes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet are scarce ripe enough at best to show<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The redd, but of the blush to thee they ow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thy comparrison they shall put on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More Summer in their shame's reflection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than ere the fruitfull Phœbus' flaming kisses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kindled on their cold lips. O had my wishes<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the deare merits of your Muse, their due,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The yeare had found some fruit early as you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ripe as those rich composures Time computes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blossoms, but our blest tast confesses fruits.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How does thy April-Autumne mocke these cold<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Progressions 'twixt whose termes poor Time grows old!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thee alone he weares no beard, thy braine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives him the morning World's fresh gold againe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas only Paradice, 'tis onely thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose fruit and blossoms both blesse the same bough.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud in the patterne of thy pretious youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature (methinks) might easily mend her growth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could she in all her births but coppie thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the publick yeares proficiencie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No fruit should have the face to smile on thee<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Young master of the World's maturitie)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But such whose sun-borne beauties what they borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of beames to day, pay back again to morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor need be double-gilt. How then must these<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor fruites looke pale at thy Hesperides!<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faine would I chide their slownesse, but in their<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defects I draw mine own dull character.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take them, and me in them acknowledging,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How much my Summer waites upon thy Spring.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figbottom" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_e.png" width="200" height="152" alt="Decoration E" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="ALEXIAS" id="ALEXIAS"></a>ALEXIAS:</h2> + +<p class="center">THE COMPLAINT OF THE FORSAKEN WIFE OF SAINTE ALEXIS.<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a></p> + +<hr class="r10" /> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The First Elegie.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I late the Roman youth's loud prayse and pride,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom long none could obtain, though thousands try'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, here am left (alas!) For my lost mate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">T' embrace my teares, and kisse an vnkind fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure in my early woes starres were at strife,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And try'd to make a widow ere a wife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can I tell (and this new teares doth breed)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In what strange path, my lord's fair footsteppes bleed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O knew I where he wander'd, I should see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some solace in my sorrow's certainty:<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd send my woes in words should weep for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Who knowes how powerfull well-writt praires would be.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sending's too slow a word; myselfe would fly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knowes my own heart's woes so well as I?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But how shall I steal hence? Alexis thou,<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah thou thy self, alas! hast taught me how.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loue too that leads the way would lend the wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bear me harmlesse through the hardest things.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where Loue lends the wing, and leads the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What dangers can there be dare say me nay?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I be shipwrack't, Loue shall teach to swimme:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If drown'd, sweet is the death indur'd for him:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noted sea shall change his name with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'mongst the blest starres, a new name shall be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sure where louers make their watry graues,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weeping mariner will augment the waues.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For who so hard, but passing by that way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will take acquaintance of my woes, and say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here 'twas the Roman maid found a hard fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While through the World she sought her wandring mate<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here perish't she, poor heart; Heauns, be my vowes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As true to me, as she was to her spouse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O liue, so rare a loue! liue! and in thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The too frail life of femal constancy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell; and shine, fair soul, shine there aboue<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firm in thy crown, as here fast in thy loue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There thy lost fugitiue th' hast found at last:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be happy; and for euer hold him fast.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Second Elegie.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though all the ioyes I had, fled hence with thee,<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnkind! yet are my teares still true to me:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm wedded o're again since thou art gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor couldst thou, cruell, leaue me quite alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alexis' widdow now is Sorrow's wife,<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With him shall I weep out my weary life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wellcome, my sad-sweet mate! Now haue I gott<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last a constant Loue, that leaues me not:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firm he, as thou art false; nor need my cryes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus vex the Earth and teare the beauteous skyes.<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">For him, alas! n'ere shall I need to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Troublesom to the world thus as for thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thee I talk to trees; with silent groues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expostulate my woes and much-wrong'd loues;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hills and relentlesse rockes, or if there be<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Things that in hardnesse more allude to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To these I talk in teares, and tell my pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And answer too for them in teares again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How oft haue I wept out the weary sun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My watry hour-glasse hath old Time's outrunne.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O I am learnèd grown: poor Loue and I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haue study'd ouer all Astrology;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm perfect in Heaun's state; with euery starr<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My skillfull greife is grown familiar.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise, fairest of those fires; what'ere thou be<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose rosy beam shall point my sun to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as the sacred light that e'rst did bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eastern princes to their infant King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O rise, pure lamp! and lend thy golden ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That weary Loue at last may find his way.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span></p> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Third Elegie.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rich, churlish Land! that hid'st so long in thee<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My treasures; rich, alas! by robbing mee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Needs must my miseryes owe that man a spite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who e're he be was the first wandring knight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O had he nere been at that cruell cost<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Natvre's virginity had nere been lost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seas had not bin rebuk't by sawcy oares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ly'n lockt vp safe in their sacred shores;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men had not spurn'd at mountaines; nor made warrs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rocks, nor bold hands struck the World's strong barres,<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor lost in too larg bounds, our little Rome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full sweetly with it selfe had dwell't at home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My poor Alexis, then, in peacefull life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had vnder some low roofe lou'd his plain wife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, ah me! from where he has no foes<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He flyes; and into willfull exile goes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cruell, return, O tell the reason why<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy dearest parents have deseru'd to dy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I, what is my crime, I cannot tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnlesse it be a crime t' haue lou'd too well.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If heates of holyer loue and high desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make bigge thy fair brest with immortall fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What needes my virgin lord fly thus from me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who only wish his virgin wife to be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Witnesse, chast Heauns! no happyer vowes I know<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then to a virgin grave vntouch't to goe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loue's truest knott by Venus is not ty'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor doe embraces onely make a bride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The queen of angels (and men chast as you)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was maiden-wife and maiden-mother too.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cecilia, glory of her name and blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With happy gain her maiden-vowes made good:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lusty bridegroom made approach; young man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take heed (said she) take heed, Valerian!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My bosome's guard, a spirit great and strong,<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands arm'd, to sheild me from all wanton wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My chastity is sacred; and my Sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wakefull, her dear vowes vndefil'd to keep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pallas beares armes, forsooth; and should there be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No fortresse built for true Virginity?<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No gaping Gorgon, this: none, like the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your learn'd lyes. Here you'll find no such iest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm your's: O were my God, my Christ so too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd know no name of Loue on Earth but you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He yeilds, and straight baptis'd, obtains the grace<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gaze on the fair souldier's glorious face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both mixt at last their blood in one rich bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rosy martyrdome, twice married.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O burn our Hymen bright in such high flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy torch, terrestriall Loue, haue here no name.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How sweet the mutuall yoke of man and wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When holy fires maintain Loue's heaunly life!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I (so help me Heaun my hopes to see)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thousands sought my loue, lou'd none but thee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, as their vain teares my firm vowes did try,<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alexis, he alone is mine (said I).<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half true, alas! half false, proues that poor line,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alexis is alone; but is not mine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.</p> + +<p>The heading in 1648 omits 'Sainte.' These variations from +1648 are interesting:</p> + +<p>1st Elegy: Line 9, 'would' for 'should.'<br /> +Line 17, our text (1652) drops 'way' inadvertently. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> +tinkers it by reading 'thee' for 'the,' instead of collating +the texts.<br /> +Line 23, 'its' for 'his.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 25, 'when' for 'where.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 37, I have adopted 'th'' for 'thou' of our text (1652).</span><br /> +2d Elegy: Line 1, our text (1652) misspells 'fleed.'<br /> +Line 3, ib. misprints 'I' am.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 10, ib. drops 'beauteous' inadvertently. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>, +for a wonder, wakes up here to notice a deficient word; but +again, instead of collating his texts, inserts without authority +'lofty.' Had he turned to 1648 edition, he would have found +'beauteous.'</span><br /> +Line 20, I have adopted 'Time's' for 'Time.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 23, as in line 17 in 1st Elegy.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 30, a reference to the 'Love will find out the way,' +in the old song 'Over the mountain.' 'Weary' is misprinted +'Wary' in 1670.</span><br /> +3d Elegy: Line 7, 'with' for 'by.'<br /> +Line 17, our text (1652) misprints 'Or' for 'O.'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 20, I accept 't'' for 'to.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 29, 'The Blessed Virgin' for 'The queen of angels.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 41, 'facing' for 'gaping.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 43, as in line 17 in 1st Elegy.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 50, 'hath' for 'haue.'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 51, 'sweet's' for 'sweet.'</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">" 54, our text (1652) misprints 'thousand.' G.</span> +</p> + + + + +<h1><a name="Secular_Poetry_2" id="Secular_Poetry_2"></a>Secular Poetry.</h1> + +<h2>II.</h2> + +<h2>AIRELLES.</h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center p6">NOTE.</p> + +<p>See Note on page 184 for reference on the title here and +elsewhere of 'Airelles.' G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="UPON_THE_KINGS_CORONATION_1" id="UPON_THE_KINGS_CORONATION_1"></a>UPON THE KING'S CORONATION.<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sound forth, cœlestiall organs, let heauen's quire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ravish the dancing orbes, make them mount higher<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With nimble capers, & force Atlas tread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon his tiptoes, e're his siluer head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall kisse his golden curthen. Thou glad Isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That swim'st as deepe in joy, as seas, now smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lett not thy weighty glories, this full tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of blisse, debase thee; but with a just pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swell: swell to such an height, that thou maist vye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heauen itselfe for stately majesty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doe not deceiue mee, eyes: doe I not see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this blest earth heauen's bright epitome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circled with pure refinèd glory? heere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I view a rising sunne in this our sphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose blazing beames, maugre the blackest night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mists of greife, dare force a joyfull light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gold, in w<sup>ch</sup> he flames, does well præsage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A precious season, & a golden age.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doe I not see joy keepe his revels now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sitt triumphing in each cheerfull brow?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnmixt felicity with siluer wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broodeth this sacred place: hither Peace brings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The choicest of her oliue-crownes, & praies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To haue them guilded with his courteous raies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doe I not see a Cynthia, who may<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abash the purest beauties of the day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom heauen's lampes often in silent night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steale from their stations to repaire their light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doe I not see a constellation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each little beame of w<sup>ch</sup> would make a sunne?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I meane those three great starres, who well may scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Acquaintance with the vsher of the morne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gaze vpon such starres each humble eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would be ambitious of astronomie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who would not be a phœnix, & aspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sacrifice himselfe in such sweet fire?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine forth, ye flaming sparkes of Deity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yee perfect emblemes of divinity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fixt in your spheres of glory, shed from thence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The treasures of our liues, your influence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if you sett, who may not justly feare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world will be one ocean, one great teare.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="UPON_THE_KINGS_CORONATION_2" id="UPON_THE_KINGS_CORONATION_2"></a>UPON THE KING'S CORONATION.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strange metamorphosis! It was but now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sullen heauen had vail'd its mournfull brow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a black maske: the clouds with child by Greife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Traueld th' Olympian plaines to find releife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But at the last (having not soe much power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to refraine) brought forth a costly shower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pearly drops, & sent her numerous birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As tokens of her greife) vnto the Earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, the Earth, quick drunke with teares, had reel'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From of her center, had not Ioue vpheld<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The staggering lumpe: each eye spent all its store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if heereafter they would weepe noe more:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Streight from this sea of teares there does appeare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full glory naming in her owne free sphere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amazèd Sol throwes of his mournfull weeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speedily harnessing his fiery steeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vp to Olympus' stately topp he hies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From whence his glorious rivall hee espies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then wondring starts, & had the curteous night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Withheld her vaile, h' had forfeited his sight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joy full sphæres with a delicious sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afright th' amazèd aire, and dance a round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their owne musick, nor (untill they see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This glorious Phœbus sett) will quiet bee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each aery Siren now hath gott her song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom the merry lambes doe tripp along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The laughing meades, as joy full to behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their winter coates couer'd with naming gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such was the brightnesse of this Northerne starre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It made the virgin phœnix come from farre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be repair'd: hither she did resort,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinking her father had remou'd his Court.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lustre of his face did shine soe bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Rome's bold egles now were blinded quite;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The radiant darts shott from his sparkling eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made euery mortall gladly sacrifice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heart burning in loue; all did adore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This rising sunne; their faces nothing wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But smiles, and ruddy joyes, and at this day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All melancholy clouds vanisht away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="VPON_THE_BIRTH_OF_THE_PRINCESSE" id="VPON_THE_BIRTH_OF_THE_PRINCESSE"></a>VPON THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCESSE +ELIZABETH.<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright starre of Majesty, oh shedd on mee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A precious influence, as sweet as thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with each word, my loaden pen letts fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fragrant Spring may be perfum'd withall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Sol from them may suck an honied shower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To glutt the stomack of his darling flower.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such a sugred livery made fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They shall proclaime to all, that they are thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lett none dare speake of thee, but such as thence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Extracted haue a balmy eloquence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But then, alas, my heart! oh how shall I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cure thee of thy delightfull tympanie?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot hold; such a spring-tide of joy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must haue a passage, or 'twill force a way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet shall my loyall tongue keepe this com̄and:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But giue me leaue to ease it with my hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though these humble lines soare not soe high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As is thy birth; yet from thy flaming eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drop downe one sparke of glory, & they'l proue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A præsent worthy of Apollo's loue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My quill to thee may not præsume to sing:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lett th' hallowed plume of a seraphick wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bee consecrated to this worke, while I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chant to my selfe with rustick melodie.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rich, liberall heauen, what hath yo<sup>r</sup> treasure store<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of such bright angells, that you giue vs more?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had you, like our great sunne, stampèd but one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For earth, t' had beene an ample portion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had you but drawne one liuely coppy forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That might interpret our faire Cynthia's worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Y' had done enough to make the lazy ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dance, like the nimble spheres, a joyfull round.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But such is the cœlestiall excellence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in the princely patterne shines, from whence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rest pourtraicted are, that 'tis noe paine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To ravish heauen to limbe them o're againe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wittnesse this mapp of beauty; euery part<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span><span class="i0">Of w<sup>ch</sup> doth show the quintessence of art.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See! nothing's vulgar, every atome heere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speakes the great wisdome of th' artificer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poore Earth hath not enough perfection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shaddow forth th' admirèd paragon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those sparkling twinnes of light should I now stile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich diamonds, sett in a pure siluer foyle;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or call her cheeke a bed of new-blowne roses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And say that ivory her front composes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or should I say, that with a scarlet waue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those plumpe soft rubies had bin drest soe braue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or that the dying lilly did bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vpon her neck the whitest of his snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or that the purple violets did lace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hand of milky downe; all these are base;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her glories I should dimme with things soe grosse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And foule the cleare text with a muddy glosse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goe on then, Heauen, & limbe forth such another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draw to this sister miracle a brother;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Compile a first glorious epitome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of heauen, & Earth, & of all raritie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sett it forth in the same happy place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'le not blurre it with my paraphrase.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="VPON_A_GNATT_BURNT_IN_A_CANDLE" id="VPON_A_GNATT_BURNT_IN_A_CANDLE"></a>VPON A GNATT BURNT IN A CANDLE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little, buzzing, wanton elfe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perish there, and thanke thy selfe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou deseru'st thy life to loose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For distracting such a Muse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was it thy ambitious aime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thy death to purchase fame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst thou hope he would in pitty<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haue bestow'd a funerall ditty<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On thy ghoast? and thou in that<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To haue outliuèd Virgill's gnatt?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No! The treason thou hast wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might forbid thee such a thought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that Night's worke doe miscarry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or a syllable but vary;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A greater foe thou shalt me find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The destruction of thy kind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phœbus, to revenge thy fault,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a fiery trapp thee caught;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thy wingèd mates might know it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not dare disturbe a poet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deare and wretched was thy sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since thyselfe was crushèd for't;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarcely had that life a breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet it found a double death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Playing in the golden flames,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou fell'st into an inky Thames;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scorch'd and drown'd. That petty sunne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pretty Icarus hath vndone.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_a.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration A" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="FROM_PETRONIUS" id="FROM_PETRONIUS"></a>FROM PETRONIUS.<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a></h2> + + +<p class="center"><i>Ales Phasiacis petita Colchis, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bird that's fetch't from Phasis floud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or choicest hennes of Africk-brood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These please our palates; and why these?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Cause they can but seldome please.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whil'st the goose soe goodly white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the drake, yeeld noe delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though his wings' conceited hewe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paint each feather, as if new.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These for vulgar stomacks be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rellish not of rarity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the dainty Scarus, sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In farthest clime; what e're is bought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With shipwrack's toile, oh, that is sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Cause the quicksands hansell'd it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pretious barbill, now growne rife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is cloying meat. How stale is wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deare wife hath ne're a handsome letter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet mistris sounds a great deale better.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose quakes at name of cinnamon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unlesse't be rare, what's thought vpon?<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span></p> +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_f.png" width="550" height="99" alt="Decoration F" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="FROM_HORACE" id="FROM_HORACE"></a>FROM HORACE.</h2> + + +<p class="center"><i>Ille et ne fasto te posuit die, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shame of thy mother soyle! ill-nurtur'd tree!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sett, to the mischeife of posteritie!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hand (what e're it wer) that was thy nurse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was sacrilegious (sure) or somewhat worse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black, as the day was dismall, in whose sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy rising topp first stain'd the bashfull light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That man--I thinke—wrested the feeble life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his old father, that man's barbarous knife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conspir'd with darknes 'gainst the strangers throate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Whereof the blushing walles tooke bloody note)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Huge high-floune poysons, eu'n of Colchos breed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whatsoe're wild sinnes black thoughts doe feed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hands haue padled in; his hands, that found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy traiterous root a dwelling in my ground.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perfidious totterer! longing for the staines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy kind Master's well-deseruing braines.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's daintiest care, & caution cannot spy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The subtile point of his coy destiny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W<sup>ch</sup> way it threats. With feare the merchant's mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is plough'd as deepe, as is the sea with wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Rowz'd in an angry tempest), Oh the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! that's his feare; there flotes his destiny:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from another (vnseene) corner blowes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The storme of fate, to w<sup>ch</sup> his life he owes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Parthians bow the soldier lookes to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Whose hands are fighting, while their feet doe flie.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Parthian starts at Rome's imperiall name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fledg'd with her eagle's wing; the very chaine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his captivity rings in his eares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, ô thus fondly doe wee pitch our feares<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farre distant from our fates, our fates, that mocke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our giddy feares with an vnlook't for shocke.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A little more, & I had surely seene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy greisly Majesty, Hell's blackest Queene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Œacus on his tribunall too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sifting the soules of guilt; & you, (oh you!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You euer-blushing meads, where doe the blest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farre from darke horrors home appeale to rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There amorous Sappho plaines vpon her lute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her loue's crosse fortune, that the sad dispute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Runnes murmuring on the strings. Alcæus there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In high-built numbers wakes his golden lyre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell the world, how hard the matter went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How hard by sea, by warre, by banishment.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There these braue soules deale to each wondring eare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such words, soe precious, as they may not weare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without religious silence; aboue all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warre's ratling tumults, or some tyrant's fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thronging clotted multitude doth feast:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What wonder? when the hundred-headed beast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span><br /> +</span><span class="sidenote"><i>ears</i></span> +<span class="i0">Hangs his black lugges, stroakt with those heavenly lines; <br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Furies' curl'd snakes meet in gentle twines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stretch their cold limbes in a pleasing fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prometheus selfe, and Pelops stervèd sire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are cheated of their paines; Orion thinkes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lions now noe more, or spotted linx.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="EX_EUPHORMIONE" id="EX_EUPHORMIONE"></a>EX EUPHORMIONE.</h2> + + +<p class="center"><i>O Dea, siderei seu tu stirpe alma tonantis, &c.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright goddesse (whether Joue thy father be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Jove a father will be made by thee)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh crowne these praiers (mov'd in a happy bower)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with one cordiall smile for Cloe. That power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Loue's all-daring hand, that makes me burne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes me confess't. Oh, doe not thou with scorne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great nymph, o'relooke my lownesse. Heau'n you know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all their fellow-deities will bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eu'n to the naked'st vowes. Thou art my fate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee the Parcæ haue given vp of late<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My threds of life: if then I shall not live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thee, by thee yet lett me die; this giue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High Beautie's soveraigne, that my funerall flames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May draw their first breath from thy starry beames.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The phœnix' selfe shall not more proudly burne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fetcheth fresh life from her fruitfull vrne.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_g.png" width="550" height="115" alt="Decoration G" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="AN_ELEGY_VPON_THE_DEATH_OF" id="AN_ELEGY_VPON_THE_DEATH_OF"></a>AN ELEGY VPON THE DEATH OF +MR. STANNINOW,</h2> + +<p class="center">FELLOW OF QUEENE'S COLLEDGE.<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hath aged winter, fledg'd with feathered raine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To frozen Caucasus his flight now tane?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth hee in downy snow there closely shrowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His bedrid limmes, wrapt in a fleecy clowd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is th' Earth disrobèd of her apron white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kind Winter's guift, & in a greene one dight?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth she beginne to dandle in her lappe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her painted infants, fedd with pleasant pappe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W<sup>ch</sup> their bright father in a pretious showre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From heaven's sweet milky streame doth gently poure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth blith Apollo cloath the heavens with joye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with a golden waue wash cleane away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those durty smutches, w<sup>ch</sup> their faire fronts wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make them laugh, w<sup>ch</sup> frown'd, & wept before?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If heaven hath now forgot to weepe; ô then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What meane these shoures of teares amongst vs men?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These cataracts of griefe, that dare eu'n vie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With th' richest clowds their pearly treasurie?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Winters gone, whence this vntimely cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That on these snowy limmes hath laid such hold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What more than winter hath that dire art found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These purple currents hedg'd with violets round.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To corrallize, w<sup>ch</sup> softly wont to slide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In crimson waueletts, & in scarlet tide?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Flora's darlings now awake from sleepe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out of their greene mantletts dare to peepe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O tell me then, what rude outragious blast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forc't this prime flowre of youth to make such hast?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hide his blooming glories, & bequeath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His balmy treasure to the bedd of death?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas not the frozen zone; one sparke of fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shott from his flaming eye, had thaw'd its ire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made it burne in loue: 'twas not the rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And too vngentle nippe of frosty age:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas not the chast, & purer snow, whose nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was in the mōdest nunnery of his brest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noe, none of these ravish't those virgin roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Muses, & the Graces fragrant posies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W<sup>ch</sup>, while they smiling sate vpon his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They often kist, & in the sugred place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left many a starry teare, to thinke how soone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The golden harvest of our joyes, the noone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all our glorious hopes should fade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be eclipsèd with an envious shade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noe 'twas old doting Death, who stealing by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dragging his crooked burthen, look't awry,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And streight his amorous syth (greedy of blisse)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murdred the Earth's just pride with a rude kisse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wingèd herald, gladd of soe sweet a prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snatch't vpp the falling starre, soe richly gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And plants it in a precious perfum'd bedd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amongst those lillies, w<sup>ch</sup> his bosome bredd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where round about hovers with siluer wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A golden Summer, an æternall Spring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now that his root such fruit againe may beare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let each eye water't with a courteous teare.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="UPON_THE_DEATH_OF_A_FREIND" id="UPON_THE_DEATH_OF_A_FREIND"></a>UPON THE DEATH OF A FREIND.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hee's dead! Oh what harsh musick's there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnto a choyce, and curious eare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wee must that Discord surely call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since sighs doe rise and teares doe fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teares fall too low, sighes rise too high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How then can there be harmony?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But who is he? him may wee know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That jarres and spoiles sweet consort soe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Death, 'tis thou: you false time keepe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stretch'st thy dismall voice too deepe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long time to quavering Age you giue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to large Youth, short time to liue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You take vpon you too too much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In striking where you should not touch.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How out of tune the world now lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since youth must fall, when it should rise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone be all consort, since alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He that once bore the best part's gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose whole life, musick was; wherein<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each vertue for a part came in.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though that musick of his life be still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The musick of his name yett soundeth shrill.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="AN_ELEGIE_ON_THE_DEATH_OF_DR_PORTER" id="AN_ELEGIE_ON_THE_DEATH_OF_DR_PORTER"></a>AN ELEGIE ON THE DEATH OF DR. PORTER.<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a></h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stay, silver-footed Came, striue not to wed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy maiden streames soe soone to Neptune's bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fixe heere thy wat'ry eyes upon these towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnto whose feet in reuerence of the powers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That there inhabite, thou on euery day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With trembling lippes an humble kisse do'st pay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See all in mourning now; the walles are jett,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pearly papers carelesly besett.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose snowy cheekes, least joy should be exprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weeping pen with sable teares hath drest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their wrongèd beauties speake a tragœdy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somewhat more horrid than an elegy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pure, & vnmixèd cruelty they tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W<sup>ch</sup> poseth Mischeife's selfe to parallel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Justice hath lost her hand, the law her head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace is an orphan now; her father's dead.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honestie's nurse, Vertue's blest guardian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That heauenly mortall, that seraphick man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough is said, now, if thou canst crowd on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy lazy crawling streames, pri'thee be gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murmur forth thy woes to euery flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That on thy bankes sitts in a uerdant bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is instructed by thy glassy waue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To paint its perfum'd face w<sup>th</sup> colours braue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vailes of dust their silken heads they'le hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the oft-departing sunne had dy'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goe learne that fatall quire, soe sprucely dight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In downy surplisses, & vestments white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sing their saddest dirges, such as may<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make their scar'd soules take wing, & fly away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lett thy swolne breast discharge thy strugling groanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To th' churlish rocks; & teach the stubborne stones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To melt in gentle drops, lett them be heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all proud Neptune's siluer-sheilded guard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That greife may crack that string, & now vntie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their shackled tongues to chant an elegie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whisper thy plaints to th' Ocean's curteous eares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then weepe thyselfe into a sea of teares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand Helicons the Muses send<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a bright christall tide, to thee they send,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving those mines of nectar, their sweet fountaines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They force a lilly path through rosy mountaines.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feare not to dy with greife; all bubling eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are teeming now with store of fresh supplies.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span></div></div> + + + + +<h1><a name="VERSE-LETTER" id="VERSE-LETTER"></a>VERSE-LETTER<br /> + +<small><small>TO</small></small><br /> + +THE COUNTESS OF DENBIGH</h1> + +<p class="center">(1652). +</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center p6">NOTE.</p> + +<p>To the volume of 1652 ('Carmen Deo Nostro' &c.) was prefixed +a Verse-letter to the <span class="smcap">Countess of Denbigh</span>, illustrated +with an engraving of a 'locked heart,' as reproduced in our +quarto edition. In 1653 ('Sept. 23, 1653'), as appears from a +contemporary marking in the unique copy in the British Museum, +the following was printed: 'A Letter from <span class="smcap">Mr. Crashaw</span> +to the Countess of Denbigh. Against Irresolution and Delay in +matters of Religion. London, n.d.'(4to). Collation: title-page +and 3 pages, page 1st on reverse of title-page (British Museum +E. 220. 2.). The Paris copy is very imperfect from some unexplained +reason (68 as against 90 lines), and it would seem +that some friend of the deceased poet, dissatisfied with it, +and having in his (or her) possession a fuller <span class="smcap">ms.</span>, printed, if +not published it. We give the enlarged text—never before +noticed, having been only named, without taking the trouble +to consult and compare it, by <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>; and for the student +add the abbreviated form from 1652 'Carmen,' as it, in turn, +has lines and words not in the other. See our Essay for more +on this most characteristic poem, and relative to the Countess +of Denbigh. G.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_i.png" width="550" height="118" alt="Decoration I" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="AGAINST_IRRESOLUTION_AND_DELAY_IN" id="AGAINST_IRRESOLUTION_AND_DELAY_IN"></a>AGAINST IRRESOLUTION AND DELAY IN +MATTERS OF RELIGION.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What Heav'n-besiegèd heart is this<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands trembling at the Gate of Blisse:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holds fast the door, yet dares not venture<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairly to open and to enter?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose definition is, A Doubt<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt life and death, 'twixt In and Out.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! linger not, lov'd soul: a slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And late consent was a long No.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who grants at last, a great while try'de<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And did his best, to have deny'de<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What magick-bolts, what mystick barrs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maintain the Will in these strange warrs?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What fatall, yet fantastick, bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep the free heart from his own hands?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, lingring Fair, why comes the birth<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your brave soul so slowly forth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plead your pretences (O you strong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In weaknesse!) why you chuse so long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In labour of your self to ly,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span><span class="i0">Not daring quite to live nor die.<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">So when the Year takes cold we see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Poor waters their own prisoners be:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fetter'd and lock'd up fast they lie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In a cold self-captivity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Th' astonish'd Nymphs their Floud's strange fate deplore,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">find themselves their own severer shoar.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love, that lends haste to heaviest things,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In you alone hath lost his wings.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Look round and reade the World's wide face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The field of Nature or of Grace;<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where can you fix, to find excuse<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or pattern for the pace you use?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mark with what faith fruits answer flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And know the call of Heav'n's kind showers:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each mindfull plant hasts to make good<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hope and promise of his bud.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seed-time's not all; there should be harvest too.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alas! and has the Year no Spring for you?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Both winds and waters urge their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And murmure if they meet a stay.<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mark how the curl'd waves work and wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All hating to be left behind.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each bigge with businesse thrusts the other,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And seems to say, Make haste, my brother.<br /></span><span class="sidenote"><i>pure</i></span> +<span class="i1">The aiery nation of neat doves, <span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That draw the chariot of chast Loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chide your delay: yea those dull things,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose wayes have least to doe with wings,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make wings at least of their own weight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by their love controll their Fate.<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So lumpish steel, untaught to move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Learn'd first his lightnesse by his love.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What e're Love's matter be, he moves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By th' even wings of his own doves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lives by his own laws, and does hold<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In grossest metalls his own gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All things swear friends to Fair and Good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea suitours; man alone is wo'ed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tediously wo'ed, and hardly wone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only not slow to be undone.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the bargain had been driven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So hardly betwixt Earth and Heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our God would thrive too fast, and be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too much a gainer by't, should we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our purchas'd selves too soon bestow<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Him, who has not lov'd us so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When love of us call'd Him to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If wee'd vouchsafe His company,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He left His Father's Court, and came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lightly as a lambent flame,<span class="linenum">70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaping upon the hills, to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The humble king of you and me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can the cares of His whole crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(When one poor sigh sends for Him down)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Detain Him, but He leaves behind<span class="linenum">75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The late wings of the lazy wind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spurns the tame laws of Time and Place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And breaks through all ten heav'ns to our embrace.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yield to His siege, wise soul, and see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your triumph in His victory.<span class="linenum">80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Disband dull feares, give Faith the day:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To save your life, kill your Delay.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis cowardise that keeps this field;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And want of courage not to yield.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yield then, O yield, that Love may win<span class="linenum">85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Fort at last, and let Life in.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yield quickly, lest perhaps you prove<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Death's prey, before the prize of Love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This fort of your fair self if't be not wone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is repuls'd indeed, but you'r undone.<span class="linenum">90</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="p6">FINIS.</h3><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span></p> + +<div class="figtop" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/decoration_c.png" width="550" height="110" alt="Decoration C" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="From_Carmen_Deo_Nostro" id="From_Carmen_Deo_Nostro"></a><span class="smcap">From 'Carmen Deo Nostro' (1652).</span></h2> + + +<h3><i>Non vi.</i></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">''Tis not the work of force but skill<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To find the way into man's will.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Tis loue alone can hearts unlock;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who knowes the Word, he needs not knock.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<blockquote><p>To the noblest and best of Ladyes, the Countesse of Denbigh, +perswading her to Resolution in Religion, and to render +her selfe without further delay into the Communion of the +Catholick Church.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What heau'n-intreated heart is this<span class="linenum">1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands trembling at the gate of blisse?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holds fast the door, yet dares not venture<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairly to open it, and enter.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose definition is a doubt<span class="linenum">5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt life and death, 'twixt in and out.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, lingring Fair! why comes the birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your brave soul so slowly forth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plead your pretences (O you strong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In weaknes!) why you choose so long<span class="linenum">10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In labor of your selfe to ly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor daring quite to liue nor dy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! linger not, lou'd soul! a slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And late consent was a long no;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who grants at last, long time try'd<span class="linenum">15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And did his best to haue deny'd:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What magick bolts, what mystick barres<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maintain the will in these strange warres?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What fatall yet fantastick, bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep the free heart from its own hands?<span class="linenum">20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So when the year takes cold, we see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor waters their own prisoners be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fetter'd and lockt vp they ly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a sad selfe-captivity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The astonisht nymphs their flood's strange fate deplore,<span class="linenum">25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see themselues their own seuerer shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou that alone canst thaw this cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fetch the heart from its strong-hold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Allmighty Love! end this long warr,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of a meteor make a starr.<span class="linenum">30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O fix this fair Indefinite!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'mongst Thy shafts of soueraign light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Choose out that sure decisiue dart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which has the key of this close heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowes all the corners of't, and can controul<span class="linenum">35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The self-shutt cabinet of an vnsearcht soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O let it be at last, Loue's hour!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raise this tall trophee of Thy powre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come once the conquering way; not to confute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But kill this rebell-word 'irresolute,'<span class="linenum">40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That so, in spite of all this peeuish strength<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of weaknes, she may write 'resolv'd' at length.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vnfold at length, vnfold fair flowre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vse the season of Loue's showre!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meet His well-meaning wounds, wise heart,<span class="linenum">45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hast to drink the wholsome dart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That healing shaft, which Heaun till now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath in Loue's quiuer hid for you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O dart of Loue! arrow of light!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O happy you, if it hitt right!<span class="linenum">50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It must not fall in vain, it must<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not mark the dry, regardless dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair one, it is your fate; and brings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Æternal worlds upon its wings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meet it with wide-spread armes, and see<span class="linenum">55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its seat your soul's iust center be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disband dull feares; giue faith the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To saue your life, kill your delay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is Loue's seege, and sure to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your triumph, though His victory.<span class="linenum">60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis cowardise that keeps this feild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And want of courage not to yeild.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yeild then, O yeild, that Loue may win<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fort at last, and let life in.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yeild quickly, lest perhaps you proue<span class="linenum">65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's prey, before the prize of Loue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This fort of your faire selfe, if't be not won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is repulst indeed; but you are vndone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="p2"> +END OF VOL. I.<br /> +</h3> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center"> +<small>LONDON: ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.</small></p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3><a name="FOOTNOTES" id="FOOTNOTES"></a>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> in line 19 misprints 'Diseased his ...' making +nonsense. Disease is = dis-ease, discompose, as used by <span class="smcap">Phineas +Fletcher</span>: cf. vol. iii. p. 194 et alibi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> again misprints in line 3 'But' for 'Best,' once more +making nonsense.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Edition of 1834, p. 295; of 1839, vol. i. p. 301. <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> adds +not one iota to our knowledge, and repeats all <span class="smcap">Willmott's</span> erroneous +dates, &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The present eminent Head of 'Charterhouse,' Dr. <span class="smcap">Haig-Brown</span>, +strove to find earlier documents in vain for me.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> As before, vol. ii. p. 302.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> I feel disposed to think that it must have been some other +<span class="smcap">Richard Crashaw</span>, albeit attendance at both Universities was not +uncommon. <span class="smcap">Wood's</span> words are, that he was 'incorporated' in 1641 +at Oxford; and his authority 'the private observation of a certain +Master of Arts, that was this year living in the University;' and +he adds, 'afterwards he was Master of Arts, in which degree it is +probable he was incorporated' (Fasti, <i>s. n.</i>).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> I owe very hearty thanks to my good friend Mr. W. Aldis +Wright, M.A., Trinity College, Cambridge, and to the Masters and +other authorities of Pembroke and Peterhouse, for unfailing attention +to my inquiries and the most zealous aid throughout.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> My 'document' was an extract from an old Register of the +Church. I lent it to the late Mr. <span class="smcap">Robert Bell</span> (who intended to +include <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> in his 'Poets'), and somehow it got astray. My +priest-correspondent at Loretto was dead when I applied for another +copy, and the Register has disappeared. Of the fact, however, that +<span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> died in 1650 there can be no doubt.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Life of <span class="smcap">Cowley</span>, in Lives of the Poets.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Works, vol. i. (1707) pp. 44-7. Line 3 by a strange oversight is +misprinted in all the editions I have seen 'The hard, and rarest....' +I accept <span class="smcap">Willmott's</span> correction.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Query, the legal term 'seized' = taken possession of? So <span class="smcap">Vaughan</span>, +Silurist, +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O give it ful obedience, that so <i>seiz'd</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all I have, I may not move thy wrath' (i. 154),<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +and +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Thou so long <i>seiz'd</i> of my heart' (ib. p. 289). G.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> = Iamblichus, the celebrated Neo-Platonic philosopher, author +of [Greek: περὶ Πυθαγόρου αἱρέσευς], concerning the Philosophy of Pythagoras. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Cf. poem on Lessius, lines 18 and 38. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> See our Memorial-Introduction and Essay, for remarks on <span class="smcap">Herbert's</span> +relation to <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> '<i>Seven shares and a halfe.</i>' The same phrase occurs in Ben +Jonson's <i>Poetaster</i>. The player whom Captain Tucca bullied and +fleeced, was one of Henslowe's company, as shown by Tucca's stinging +taunt that they had 'fortune and the good year on their side;' +the facts being that the Fortune theatre had just been built, and +that the year had been an exceptionally bad one with the hitherto +prosperous players. To call attention tacitly to the allusion 'fortune' +is, in the original editions, printed in italics. Various other players +having been mimicked, ridiculed, and reviled, Tucca then bids farewell +to his new acquaintance with—'commend me to seven shares +and a half;' a remark which by its position seems to point to the +chief men of the company. But a great part of the office of a manager +like Henslowe was, as exhibited in Henslowe's own Diary, just +such as is depreciatingly described in our text. He had various +dramatic authors, poetasters, and others in his pay and debt. Hence +as the Poetaster was written in 1601, and this preface in 1646, it +may be concluded, that 'seven shares and a half' was the established +proportion taken by, and therefore a theatrical cant name for, the +Manager. It follows also that as the Player was one of Henslowe's +company, the seven shares and a half alluded to by Jonson was +Henslowe himself, from whom he had seceded, and with whom he +had probably quarrelled. The question, however, yet remains open, +whether seven shares and a half was the proportion received by a +manager, or that taken by a proprietor-manager, such as Henslowe +was. Malone has conjectured that Henslowe drew fifteen shares; if +so, the other seven and a half may have been as rent, and out of +one of the two halves may have come the general expenses of the +house. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> '<i>Sixpenny soule, a suburb sinner.</i>' This was the ordinary town +courtesan, who, eschewing the penny and twopenny rabble of the pit +and gallery, frequented the cheapest of the better-class seats, or main +body of the house. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> = swollen. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> = as taught by Lessius, whose praise <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span> sang. See the +Poem in its place in the 'Delights.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> = drinkers of Canary (wine)? G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> On the authorship of this Preface see our Preface. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> This couplet appeared first in 1648 edition of the 'Steps to the +Temple;' but it properly belongs to the engraving in 'Carmen Deo +Nostro' of 1652, which is reproduced in our illustrated 4to edition. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> 'The Weeper' appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. +1-5): was reprinted in editions of 1648 (pp. 1-6), 1652 (pp. 85-92), +1670 (pp. 1-5). For reasons stated in our Preface, our text follows +that of 1652; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem +for details of various readings, &c. &c., and our Essay for critical +remarks on it from <span class="smcap">Pope</span> to <span class="smcap">Dr. George Macdonald</span>. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 7-9): reprinted in +1652 and 1670. As before, our text is that of 1652 (pp. 55-61); but +see Notes and Illustrations at close. The illustration, engraved by +<span class="smcap">Mesager</span>, is reproduced in our illustrated quarto edition. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 6-7): reprinted in +1648 (pp. 9-11) and 1670 editions. As it does not appear in 'Carmen +Deo Nostro,' &c. (1652), our text follows that of 1648; but see Notes +and Illustrations at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Most of 'The Office of the Holy Crosse' appeared in the 'Steps' +of 1648, but in a fragmentary form. First came a piece 'Upon our +B. Saviour's Passion,' which included all the Hymns. Then 'the +Antiphona,' which was the last so called here; then 'the Recommendation +of the precedent Hymn;' then 'a Prayer;' and lastly, +'Christ's Victory,' including three other of the verses, called 'the +Antiphona.' Our text is from 'Carmen Deo Nostro' &c. of 1652, as +before (pp. 31-48)—the engraving in which is reproduced in our +illustrated quarto edition. See Notes and Illustrations at close of +this composition. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mors et vita duello<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conflixero mirando:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dux vitæ mortuus, regnat vivus.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +<i>Latin Sequence</i> 12th-13th century: Vict. Pasch. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> The engraving of our text (1652) here, is reproduced in our illustrated +quarto edition. For the Latin 'Expostulatio' belonging +thereto, see our vol. ii. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 30-1): reprinted in +1652 (pp. 49-51) and 1670 (pp. 174-6). Our text is that of 1652, as +before. See Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Originally appeared in 'Steps' of 1646 (p. 15): was reprinted +in editions 1648 (pp. 21-2) and 1670 (p. 15). Our text is that of +1648: but there are only slight orthographic differences in the +others. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (p. 21): was reprinted +in 1648 (p. 29) and 1670 (p. 22). Our text is that of 1648, +but the others are the same except in the usual changes of orthography. +The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> in line 7 reads 'Then shall He drink;' +line 9, 'My paines are in their nonage: my young feares;' line 10 +I have adopted, instead of 'Are yet both in their hopes, not come to +yeares,' which isn't English; line 12, 'are tender;' line 14, 'a towardnesse.' +I have arranged these poems in numbered couplets as +in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> I insert 'd,' dropped by misprint in 1648, but +found in 1646 (line 13). G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 21, 22): was reprinted +in editions of 1648 (pp. 29, 30) and 1670 (pp. 22, 23). Our +text is that of 1648; but all agree save in usual orthographic slight +changes. In 1646 stanza ii. line 2 spells 'too' as 'two.' The <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span> varies only, as usual, in the orthography. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 23, 24): was reprinted +in editions of 1648 (pp. 32, 33), 1652 (pp. 61-63) and 1670 +(pp. 24, 25). Our text is that of 1652, as before, but with an entire +stanza from 1646 overlooked. See Notes and Illustrations at close of +the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 33-40); was reprinted +in 1652 (pp. 1-9) and 1670 (pp. 146-153). Our text is that +of 1652, as before, and its engraving here is reproduced in our illustrated +4to edition. See Notes and Illustrations at close of the +poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 25-27): was reprinted +in editions of 1648 (pp. 40-42) and 1670 (pp. 26-28). Our +text is that of 1648: but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the +poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 27, 28): reprinted +in editions of 1648 (pp. 42, 43) and 1670 (pp. 28, 29). Our text is +that of 1648, with which the others agree, except in usual slight +changes of orthography, and the following adopted from the <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span>: line 7, a second 'they' inserted; line 17, 'than' for +'then;' line 21 '<i>vnpearch't</i>' = without perch or support. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 28-31): reprinted +in editions of 1648 (pp. 43-47), 1652 (pp. 10-16) and 1670 +(pp. 29-32). Our text is that of 1652, as before, and its engraving +here, is reproduced in our illustrated quarto edition. See Notes and +Illustrations at close of this composition. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 94, 95), where it +is headed 'An Himne for the Circumcision day of our Lord:' reprinted +in edition of 1648 (pp. 47, 48) with 'A' for 'An' in heading, +and in the 'Carmen &c.' of 1652 (pp. 17, 18), being there entitled +simply 'New Year's Day,' and in the edition of 1670 (pp. 72-74). +Our text is that of 1652, as before, but there are only slight differences +besides the usual orthographical ones, in any. See Notes and +Illustrations at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 48-55), reprinted +in 'Carmen' &c. of 1652 (pp. 19-28) and in 1670 (pp. 153-161). Our +text is that of 1652, as before: but see close for Notes and Illustrations. +In our illustrated quarto edition we reproduce the engraving +here of 1652. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 55, 56): reprinted +in editions of 1652 (pp. 29, 30) and 1670 (pp. 161, 162). Our text is +that of 1652, as before: but see Notes at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 22, 23): reprinted +in 1648 (pp. 56, 57) and in 1670 (pp. 23, 24). Our text is that of +1648, with the exception of reading in line 10, 'live' for 'lives,' from +1646 (and so in 1670). Other slight differences are simply in orthography, +and not noted. In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> the heading is 'Vpon +Christ's Resurrection.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> For critical remarks on the present very striking expansion and +interpretation rather than translation of <span class="smcap">Marino</span>, the Reader is referred +to our Essay. The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> must have contained this +poem, for it is inserted in the index; but unfortunately the pages of +the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> containing it have disappeared. It was first published in +the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 51-73), and was reprinted in the editions of +1648 and 1670: and separately, with a brief introduction, a few years +since. Our text is that of 1648 (pp. 57-74); but it differs from the +edition of 1646 only in slight changes of spelling, <i>e.g.</i> 'hee' for 'he,' +'guild' for 'gild,' and the like—not calling for record. The edition +of 1670, in st. i. line 3, misprints '<i>so</i> what' for 'O what,' and <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> +repeats the error, and of himself misreads in st. xxii. 'Who +thunders on a throne of stars above' for 'Who in a throne of stars +thunders above,' and in like manner in st. xxiv. line 8 substitutes +'getting' for 'finding,' and in st. xxvi. line 3 'serve' for 'serves.' +Again in st. li. first line of which is left partially blank, from (probably) +the illegibility of <span class="smcap">Crashaw's ms.</span>, <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> tacitly fills in, +'By proud usurping Herod now was borne,' and in line 3 misprints +'lineage' for 'image'—fetching it from the 'linage' of 1670—a plausible +reading, yet scarcely in keeping with the verb 'worn.' So too, +besides lesser orthographic alterations, in st. xxxvi. line 2 he does +not detect the stupid misprint 'whose' for 'my,' nor that of 'fight' +for 'sight' in st. xlvii. line 8, while in st. lxi. he drops 'all,' which +even the 1670 edition does not do, any more than is it responsible for +a tithe of <span class="smcap">Turnbull's</span> mistakes here and throughout. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Appeared first in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 74-75): was reprinted in +1652 (pp. 66-69) and 1670 (pp. 185-187). Our text is that of 1652: +but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem, and our Essay +for critical remarks. The engraving of 1652 is reproduced in our +illustrated quarto edition. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 76-78), where the +title is 'A Hymne on the B. Sacrament:' reprinted in 1652 (pp. 70-73) +and 1670 (pp. 187-190). Our text is that of 1652; but see Notes +at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 74-78), where it is +headed 'On a prayer booke sent to Mrs. M.R.:' was reprinted in 1648 +(pp. 78-82), where the title differs from that of 1652 (pp. 108-112) in +leaving out 'Prayer' and 'little,' and in 1670 as in 1646. Our text +is that of 1652; but see Notes and Illustrations at close and on +M.R. in our Essay. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 82-84), and was reprinted +in 1670 (pp. 198-200). Our text is that of 1648; but see +Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 84-5): reprinted in +1652 (pp. 121-2) and 1670 (pp. 204-5). Out text is that of 1652, as +before; but see Notes at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (p. 78): reprinted in editions +of 1648 (pp. 88-9) and 1670 (p. 60). Our text is that of 1648, +with a few adopted readings as noted onward. See our Essay on +Crashaw's relation to Herbert. In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> the heading +is 'Vpon Herbert's Temple, sent to a Gentlewoman. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' Line 3 +in the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> spells 'fire,' and has 'faire' before 'eyes;' adopted: line +5th, books were used to be tied with strings: line 6th, 1646, 'you +have ... th':' line 7th, <span class="smcap">ms.</span> reads 'would' for 'will;' adopted: line +8th, 'to waite on your chast.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 79-84): reprinted in +editions of 1648 (pp. 89-94), 1652 (pp. 93-100), and 1670 (pp. 61-67). +Our text is that of 1652, as before, and its engraving of the Saint's +portrait, and French lines here, are reproduced in our illustrated +quarto edition. See Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem, and +our Essay on Teresa and Crashaw. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 85-6): reprinted +in editions of 1648 (pp. 97-8) and 1670 (pp. 67-8). Our text is that +of 1648. See our Essay for the biographic interest of this poem, +and also Notes at its close. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Appeared originally in 1648 'Steps' (pp. 94-6): reprinted in +editions of 1652 (pp. 103-107) and 1670 (pp. 194-7). Our text is that +of 1652, as before. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (p. 98): reprinted in 1652 +(p. 107) and 1670 (pp. 197-8). Our text is that of 1652, as before; +but the only difference in the others is (except the usual slight +changes in orthography), that in 1648, 2d part, line 5 reads 'longing' +for 'louing,' which I have adopted, as pointing back to the 'longing' +of the 1st part, line 2. The title I take from 1648, as in 1652 it is +simply 'A Song.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 90-1): reprinted +in 1648 (pp. 99-101), 1652 (pp. 81-3), 1670 (pp. 70-2). Our text is +that of 1652, as before; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of +the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> From 'Five Piovs and Learned Discourses: +</p> +<p> +1. A Sermon shewing how we ought to behave our selves in +God's house. +</p> +<p> +2. A Sermon preferring holy Charity before Faith, Hope and +Knowledge. +</p> +<p> +3. A Treatise shewing that God's Law now qualified by the +Gospel of Christ, is possible, and ought to be fulfilled of +us in this life. +</p> +<p> +4. A Treatise of the Divine attributes. +</p> +<p> +5. A Treatise shewing the Antichrist not to be yet come. +</p> +<p> +By Robert Shelford, of Ringsfield in Suffolk, Priest. Printed by +the printers to the Universitie of Cambridge. 1635 [quarto].' See +Note at close of the poem, and our Essay, for more on Shelford. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 106-7), where it is +headed 'A Hymne in Meditation of the Day of Judgement:' reprinted +1652 (pp. 74-78), 1670 (pp. 191-4). Our text is that of 1652, +and its engraving here is reproduced in our illustrated quarto edition. +See our Essay for critical remarks on this great version of a +supreme hymn. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 107-9): reprinted +1652 (pp. 52-54) and 1670 (pp. 176-8). Our text is that of 1652, as +before. In 1648 lines 1 and 2 read 'you' for 'thee;' and line 33 +'Thou' for 'you,' the latter adopted. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (pp. 109-110): reprinted +1652 (pp. 79-80) and 1670 (pp. 194-5). Our text is that of 1652, as +before, and its engraving here is reproduced in our illustrated quarto +edition in two forms (one hitherto unknown) from the Bodleian +copy. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Appeared first in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 96-9): reprinted in 1648 +(pp. 111-113), 1652 (pp. 128-131), and 1670 (pp. 74-77). Our text is +that of 1652, as before; with the exception of better readings from +1646, as noted below. See our Memorial Introduction and Essay for +notices of the friendship of Cowley and Crashaw. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> As with Cowley's lines: see foot-note <i>ante</i>. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> See our Essay for critical remarks on this and related poems. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> May be 'kings;' but the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> doubtful. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 103-7): was reprinted +in 1648 (pp. 1-5), and 1670 (pp. 81-6). Our text is that of +1648, as before; but all agree. See Notes and Illustrations at close +of this poem for other two earlier translations, and our Essay for the +original Latin, with critical remarks. In our illustrated quarto edition +will be found a pathetic and daintily-rendered illustration, done +expressly for us by Mrs. Blackburn of Glasgow, and engraved by +W.J. Linton, Esq. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 110-1), and +was reprinted in editions 1648 (pp. 7-8) and 1670 (pp. 106-7). Our +text is that of 1648, as before, with the exception of 'gentlest' for +'gentle' from 1646 edition (line 2d), which is confirmed by the <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span> The <span class="smcap">ms.</span> in line 10 reads 'chatting:' line 16, I have +corrected the usual reading of 'bosome' by 'blosome,' from the <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms</span>. The heading of the <span class="smcap">ms.</span> is 'E Virg. Georg. particula. +In laudem Veris. R. Cr.' <i>i.e.</i> Georg. ii. 323-345. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 111): was reprinted +in 1648 (p. 8) and 1670 (p. 107). Our text is that of 1648, +as before; but all agree. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> Our text is from the 'Hygiasticon' of <span class="smcap">Lessius</span> in the English +translation of 1636, the title-page of which is as follows: 'Hygiasticon: +or the right course of preserving Life and Health unto +extream old Age: Together with soundnesse and integritie of the +Senses, Iudgement, and Memorie. Written in Latine by <span class="smcap">Leonard +Lessius</span>, and now done into English. The third Edition. Cambridge, +1636.' [42mo.] It is there entitled 'To the Reader, upon +the Book's intent,' and begins at line 15; these opening lines being +taken from the 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 112-3). See our Essay for +remarks on this poem, and at close Notes and various readings. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Delights' of 1646 (p. 114): was reprinted +in 1648 (p. 10) and 1670 (pp. 109-110). Our text is that of +1648; but all agree. Our Poet has turned the prose of the original +into verse (Æthiopica, lib. i. cap. 1). There was an early English +translation of the whole, as follows: 'Heliodorus, his Æthiopian +History: Done out of Greeke, and compared with other Translations. +1622' [quarto]. In line 2, 1646 and 1670 read 'in' for 'with:' line +7, 1646 misprints 'thy' for 'they.' The heading in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft +ms.</span> is 'The faire Æthiopian, R. Cr.' <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> perpetuates 1670's +misprint of 'in' for 'with' in line 2, and adds one of his own in line +26, by misprinting 'guest' for 'guests.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 115-117): +was reprinted 1648 (pp. 11-13) and 1670 (pp. 110-112). Our text is +that of 1648; but all agree, save as follows: 1646 misprints 'cease' +for 'ceaze' = seize, in line 17 from end; and 1670, line 8 from beginning, +misprints 'own' for 'owe;' the latter perpetuated by <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>. +The poem is an interpretation of the first Idyll of Moschus. +Line 5, 'O yes' = the legal <i>oyiez</i>: line 8, 'owe' = own. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> The first edition of Bishop Andrewes' Sermons was published +in 1629. Its title was 'XCVI Sermons by the Right Honourable and +Reverend Father in God, Launcelot Andrewes, late Lord Bishop of +Winchester.' It is dedicated to the King by Laud and Buckeridge, +Bishop of Ely, the latter adding a funeral sermon. It has no frontispiece. +<span class="smcap">Lowndes</span>, as other bibliographers, does not seem to have +known the edition of 1629. He calls that of 1631 the first, while it +was the second; and he says it had a frontispiece, which is incorrect, +if I may judge from a number of copies personally examined. +The third edition (1635) I have not seen: but in the quarto (1641) +appears a frontispiece-portrait, having the lines above, but no name +or initials. Line 8 <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> misprints 'and, with holy.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 31-2): was reprinted +in 1648 'Delights' (pp. 18-19) and 1670 (pp. 86-7). Our text is that +of 1648; but all agree. The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> gives us the name of the +'gentleman' celebrated, being thus headed, 'In obitum desideratissimi +M<sup>ri</sup> Chambers, Coll. Reginal. Socij. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>;' and in the margin in the +archbishop's hand, 'The title and Name not in y<sup>e</sup> print.' The same +<span class="smcap">ms.</span> supplies us with lines 11-12 and 21-22, never before printed. +This <span class="smcap">ms.</span> in line 23 reads 'If yet at least he' ... and in line 32, +'are' for 'be.' Only other slight orthographic differences. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 32-3): was reprinted +in 1648 'Delights' (pp. 19-20) and 1670 (pp. 87-9). Our +text is that of 1648; but all agree. See our Essay, as before, for +notice of <span class="smcap">Herrys</span> or <span class="smcap">Harris</span>. In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> the heading is +'In ejusdem præmatur. obitu. Allegoricum. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>;' and line 9 reads +'tree' for 'plant;' adopted. For a short Latin poem added here, see +our vol. ii. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 33-5): was reprinted +in 1648 'Delights' (pp. 20-2) and 1670 (pp. 89-91). Our text is that +of 1648, as before; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the +poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 36-7): was reprinted +in 1648 'Delights' (pp. 23-4) and 1670 (pp. 91-3). Our text is that +of 1648; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 38-9): was reprinted +in 1648 'Delights' (pp. 24-6) and 1670 (93-4). Our text is +that of 1648; but all agree. The <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> is headed 'Epitaphium +in eundem <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' Line 31, <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> misprints 'breast' for +'breath.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 39-40), where it is +headed 'An Epitaph vpon Husband and Wife, which died and were +buried together.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 40-1), where it is +headed 'Vpon Mr. Staninough's Death:' was reprinted in the 'Delights' +of 1648 (p. 27), with the simple inscription, 'At the Funerall +of a young Gentleman,' and in 1652 (pp. 24-5), as 'Death's Lectvre +and the Fvneral of a yovng Gentleman,' and in 1670 (<i>bis</i>), viz. p. 96 +and pp. 206-7. Our text is that of 1652, as before; but see Notes +at close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (p. 40): was reprinted +in 1648 'Delights' (p. 28) and 1670 (p. 95). Our text is that of +1648; but all agree. In the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span> the heading is 'In obitum +D<sup>ris</sup> Brooke. <span class="smcap">R. Cr.</span>' It reads 'banck' for 'bankes' in line 7. See +our Essay for notice of Dr. Brooke. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 45-6): was reprinted +in 'Delights' of 1648 (pp. 28-9) and 1670 (pp. 101-2). Our text is +that of 1648, as before; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the +poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 47-8): was reprinted +in 1648 'Delights' (pp. 30-1) and 1670 (pp. 102-4). Our text is +that of 1648, as before; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of +the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 49-50): was reprinted +in 'Delights' of 1648 (pp. 32-3) and 1670 (pp. 104-6). Our +text is that of 1648, as before; but see Notes and Illustrations at +close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 123-4), along +with the other two (pp. 125-6): reprinted in 1648 (pp. 35-7) and 1670 +(pp. 117-19). Our text is that of 1648; but all agree. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> glaringly misprints 'The heart commanding in my +heart,' and in line 15, 'O love;' the latter after 1670 as usual, the +former his own. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Appeared originally, without signature, in the work celebrated, +which is a great folio. It was preceded by another, which, having +been inserted in the 'Steps' of 1646 and the other editions (1652 +excepted), has been continued to be reprinted as <span class="smcap">Crashaw's</span>. It +really belonged to Dr. <span class="smcap">Edward Rainbow</span>, Bishop of Carlisle, for +whom, so late as 1688, it was first claimed by his biographer, Banks. +This was pointed out in Notes and Queries by Rev. J.E.B. Mayor, +M.A. of St. John's College, Cambridge (2d s. vol. iv. p. 286). One is +thankful to have the claim confirmed by the non-presence of the +poem in the <span class="smcap">Sancroft ms.</span>, where only the above shorter one appears +as by <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>. Lines 5-8 of <span class="smcap">Rainbow's</span> poem it was simply impossible +for our singer to have written. I add the other at close of +<span class="smcap">Crashaw's</span>, as some may be curious to read it: but as the details +of the grotesque 'Frontispiece' are celebrated by <span class="smcap">Rainbow</span>, not <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, +I have departed from my intention of reproducing it in our +illustrated quarto edition, the more readily in that I have much +increased otherwise therein the reproductions announced. <span class="smcap">Rainbow</span> +contributed to the University Collections along with <span class="smcap">Crashaw</span>, +<span class="smcap">More</span>, <span class="smcap">Beaumont</span>, <span class="smcap">E. King</span>, &c. &c. See our Essay on Life and +Poetry. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 130-1): was reprinted +in 1648 (pp. 40-1) and 1670 (pp. 122-3). Our text is that +of 1648, as before; but all agree. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 132-3), and was +reprinted in 1648 (p. 42); but not in 1670. Our text is that of 1648; +but all agree. The original is found in Carm. v. = 2. The <span class="smcap">Sancroft +m.s.</span> reads line 4 'Blithest:' line 9 'numerous:' line 12 'A:' line 17 +'our.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Delights' of 1646 (pp. 134-8): was +reprinted in 1648 (pp. 43-7) and 1670 (pp. 124-8). Our text is that +of 1648, as before; but see Notes and Illustrations at close of the +poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> Appeared originally in 'Voces Votivæ ab Academicis Cantabrigiensibus +pro novissimo Carolo et Mariæ principe filio emissæ. +Cantabrigiæ: apud Rogerum Daniel. <span class="smcap">MDCXL.</span>' This poem did not +appear in the edition of 1646; but it did in that of 1648 (p. 48). +Not having been reprinted in 1670, it was overlooked by <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span>. +Our text is from 1648; but the only variation from the original in +'Voces Votivæ' is in line 7, 'to' instead of 'for.' G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Appeared as in last piece: 1648 (pp. 49-53), 1670 (pp. 97-100). +Our text is that of 1648, as before, which corrects <span class="smcap">Turnbull</span> in +many places as well in errors of commission as of omission; the +latter extending to no fewer than forty-nine entire lines, in addition +to the 'Apologie' of fourteen lines. See Notes and Illustrations at +close of the poem. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> Appeared originally in 1648 'Delights;' but is not given in +1670 edition. Line 14 is an exquisitely-turned allusion to <span class="smcap">Cowley's</span> +title-page of his juvenile Poems, 'Poetical <i>Blossoms</i>,' 1633. 'Apricocks' += apricots. So <span class="smcap">Herrick</span> in the 'Maiden Blush,' +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'So cherries blush, and kathern peares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>apricocks</i>, in youthfull yeares.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +(Works, by <span class="smcap">Hazlitt</span>, vol. ii. p. 287.) G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> Appeared originally in the 'Delights' of 1648 (pp. 67-8): was +reprinted in 1652 (pp. 115-120) and 1670 (pp. 200-4). Our text is +that of 1652, as before; but see various readings at close of the +poems. See also our Essay for critical remarks. Our poet translates +from the Latin of <span class="smcap">Francis Remond</span>. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> Charles I. See our Essay on this and kindred poems, and their +relation to the Latin royal poems. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> See our Notes to Panegyric on the Queen's 'numerous progenie.' +G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> Petronius, Satyricon, cap. 93. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> See notice of Staninough in our Essay, as before. G.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> See our Essay, as before, for notice of <span class="smcap">Porter</span>. G.</p></div> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW, VOLUME I (OF 2)***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 38549-h.txt or 38549-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/8/5/4/38549">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/5/4/38549</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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