Were not the heav'ns pure, in whole courts I fue,
The Judge, to whom I sue, just to requite him,
The caule for fin, the punishment most due,
Juftice herself, the plaintiff to endite him,
The angels holy, before whom I cite him,
He against whom, wicked, unjuft, impure;
Then might he finful live, and die fecure,
Or trial might escape, or trial might endure.
XXVII.
The judge might partial be, and over-pray'd,
The place appeal'd from, in whofe courts he fues,
The fault excus'd, or punishment delay'd,
The parties felf accus'd, that did accufe,
Angels for pardon might their prayers use:
But now no ftar can shine, no hope be got. Moft wretched creature, if he knew his lot, And yet more wretched far, because he knows it
Their wings to fave him? heav'n itself shall flide,
And roll away like melting stars that glide
Along their oily threads: his mind pursues him:
His houfe to fhroud, or hills to fall, and bruife
As ferjeants both attach, and witnesses accuse him.
What need I urge what they must needs confefs?
Sentence on them, condemn'd by their own luft;
I crave no more, and thou can't give no less,
Than death to dead men, juftice to unjust;
Shame to moft fhameful, and moft fhameless duft:
But if thy mercy needs will fpare her friends, -
Let mercy there begin, where justice ends.
'Tis cruel mercy, that the wrong from right de-
fends.
She ended, and the heav'nly hierarchies,
Burning in zeal, thickly imbranded were;
Like to an army that alarum cries,
And every one shakes his ydreaded spear,
And the Almighty's felf, as he would tear
The earth, and her firm bafis quite in funder,"
Flam'd all in just revenge, and mighty thun-
Heav'n ftole itself from earth by clouds that moister'd under.
If any afk why roses please the fight?
Because their leaves upon thy cheeks do bow'r :
If any afk why lilies are fo white?
Because their bloffoms in thy hand do flow'r :
Or why sweet plants fo grateful odours show'r?
It is because thy breath fo like they be :
Or why the orient fun fo bright we fee?
What reafon can we give, but from thine eyes,
and thee?
Ros'd all in lively crimson are thy cheeks,
Where beauties inde flourishing abice,
And, as to pass his fellow either feeks,
Seems both to blush at one anothers pride:
And on thine eyelids, waiting thee befide,
Ten thousand graces fit, and when they move To earth their amorous belgards from above, They fly from heav'n, and on their wings convey thy love.
And of difcolour'd plumes their wings are made,
And with fo wond'rous art the quills are wrought,
That whenfoever they cut the airy glade,
The wind into their hollow pipes is caught:
As feems, the spheres with them they down have
brought:
Like to the feven-fold reed of Arcady,
Which Pan of Syrinx made, when she did fly To Ladon fands, and at his fighs fung merrily.
As melting honey, dropping from the comb,
So ftill the words, that fpring between thy lips,
Thy lips, where fmiling fweetnefs keeps her home,
And heav'nly eloquence pure manna fips.
He that his pen but in that fountain dips,
How nimbly will the golden phrases fly,,
And shed forth ftreams of choiceft rhetory,
Waling celestial torrents out of poefy?
1 XLIX.
Like as the thirsty land, in fummer's heat,
Calls to the clouds, and gapes at every show'r,
As though her hungry cliffs all heav'n would eat ;
Which if high God unto her bofom pour,
Though much refresh'd, yet more he could de-
So hang the greedy ears of angels fweet, And every breath a thousand Cupids meet, Some flying in, fome out, and all about her fleet.
Upon her breaft delight doth foftly fleep,
And of eternal joy is brought abed;
Thofe fnowy mountlets, through which do creep
The milky rivers, that are inly bred
In filver cifterns, and themselves do fhed
To weary travellers, in heat of day,
To quench their fiery thirst, and to allay
With dropping nectar floods, the fury of their
If any wander, thou doft call him back:
If any be not forward, thou incit'st him:
Thou dost expect, if any should grow flack:
If any feem but willing, thou invit'st him:
Or if he do offend thee, thou acquitt'st him ;
That wonder was to fee the filk diftain'd With the refplendence from her beauty gain'd, And Iris paint her locks with beams, fo lively feign'd.
About her head a cypress heav'n fhe wore,
Spread like a veil, upheld with filver wire,
In which the ftars fo burnt in golden ore,
As feem'd the azure web was all on fire:
But haftily, to quench their sparkling ire,
A flood of milk came rolling up the fhore, That on his curded wave swift Argus wore, And the immortal swan, that did her life deplore.
Yet ftrange it was, so many stars to fee
Without a fun, to give their tapers light:
Yet ftrange it was not that it fo fhould be:
For, where the fus centres himself by right,
Her face, and locks did flame, that at the fight,
The heav'nly veil, that else should nimbly move,
Forgot his flight, and all incens'd with love,
With wonder, and amazement, did her beauty
prove.
Over her hung a canopy of state,
Not of rich tiffue, nor of fpangled gold,
But of a fubftance, though not animate,
Yet of a heav'nly and spiritual mould,
That only eyes of fpirits might behold:
Such light as from main rocks of diamond, Shooting their sparks at Phœbus, would rebound, And little angels, holding hands, danc'd all around.
Seemed thofe little sp'rits, through nimbles bold,
The ftately canopy bore on their wings;
But them itself, as pendants, did uphold,
Befides the crowns of many famous kings:
Among the reft, there David ever fings:
And now, with years grown young, renews his lays
Unto his golden harp, and ditties plays, [praise. Pfalming aloud in well-tun'd fongs his Maker's
Thou felf-idea of all joys to come,
Whofe love is fuch, would make the rudeft fpeak,
Whofe love is fuch, would make the wifeft dumb;
O when wilt thou thy too long filence break,
And overcome the ftrong to fave the weak!
If thou no weapons haft, thine eyes will wound
Th' Almighty's felf, that now flick on the
ground,
[impound.
As though fome blessed object there did them
Ab, miserable object of disgrace,
What happiness is in thy mifery!
I both must pity, and envy thy cafe;
For fhe, that is the glory of the fky,
Leaves heaven blind to fix on thee her eye:
Yet her (though mercy's felf esteems not fmall) The world defpis'd, they her repentance call. And the herfelf defpifes, and the world, and all.
Deeply, alas! empaffioned the ftood,
To fee a flaming brand tofs'd up from hell,
Boiling her heartin her own luftfal blood,
Could he not take away as well as give?
Should man deprave, and fhould not God deprive ?
Was it not all the world's deceiving spirit,
(That, bladder'd up with pride of his own merit,
Fell in his rife) that him of heav'n did difinherit?
That with one hand the vaults of heav'n could
fhake.
Who can forget, never to be forgot,
The time, that all the world in flumber lies:
When, like the stars, the finging angels shot
To earth, and heav'n awaked all his eyes,
To see another fun at midnight rise
On earth? was never fight of peril fame :
For God before, man like himself did frame,
But God himself now like a mortal man became.
LXXIX..
A child he was, and had not learn'd to speak,
That with his word the world before did make :
His mother's arms him bore, he was fo weak,
See how small room my infant Lord doth take,
Whom all the world is not enough to held.
Who of his years, or of his age hath told?
Never fuch age fo young, never a child fo old.
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