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Yet thou 'rt not yet so good; till us death lay Oh, if a sweet-briar climb op by a tree,
Or felld, and burnt for holy sacrifice,
Yet, that must wither, which by it did rise ;
E’er rigg'd a soul for Heav'n's discovery,
But life by death, which worst foes would allow;
If he could have foes, in whose practice grew
All virtues, whose name subtle school-men knew. DEATH, be not proud; thy hand gave not this blow, What ease can hope, that we shall see him, beget, Sin was her captive, whence thy power doth flow; When we must die first, and cannot die yet? The executioner of wrath thou art,
His children are his pictures; oh! they be But to destroy the just is not thy part.
Pictures of him dead, senseless, cold as he. Th, coming terrour, anguish, grief denounces ; Here needs no marble tomb, since he is gone; Her happy state courage, ease, joy pronounces. He, and about him his, are turn'd to stone. From out the crystal Palace of her breast, The clearer soul was call'd to endless rest, (Not by the thund'ring voice, wherewith God threats, But as with crowned saints in Heav'n be treats) And, waited on by angels, home was brought, To joy that it through many dangers sought; MR. THOMAS CORYAT'S CRUDITIES. The key of mercy gently did unlock The door 'twixt Heav'n and it, when life did knock. O to what height will love of greatness drive
Nor boast, the fajrest frame was made thy prey, Because to mortal eyes it did decay;
Thy learned spirit, sesqui-superlative? (then A better witness than thou art assures,
Venice' vast lake thou hast seen, and would'st seek That though dissolv'd, it yet a space endures;
Some vaster thing, and found'st a courtezan. No dram thereof shall want or loss sustain,
That inland sea having discover'd well, When her best sonl inhabits it again.
A cellar gulf, where one might sail to Hell Go then to people curs'd before they were,
From Heydelberg, thou long'st to see: and thou Their souls in triumph to thy conquest bear.
This book, greater than all, producest now. Glory not thou thyself in these hot tears,
Infinite work! which doth so far extend, Which our face, not for her, but our harm wears:
That none can study it to any end. The mourning livery giv'n by Grace, not thee,
"T is no one thing, it is not fruit, nor root, Which wills our souls in these streams wash'd should Nor poorly limited with head or foot. And on our hearts, her memory's best tomb, [be; Reason and laugh, thy book doth half make man.
If man be therefore man, because he can
That thou on th' other half would'st never touch. Deaf were the ears, not charm'd with that sweet When wilt thou be at full, great lunatic ? sound,
Not till thou exceed the world? Canst thou be like Which did i' the spirit's instructed voice abound; A prosperous pose-born wen, which sometimes grows Of flint the conscience, did not yield and melt,
To be far greater than the mother nose? At what in her last act it saw and felt.
Go then, and as to thee, when thou didst go, Weep not, nor grudge then, to have lost her sight, Munster did towns, and Gesner authors show; Taught thus, our after-stay's but a short night:
Mount now to Gallo-belgicus; appear But by all souls, not by corruption choked,
As deep a statesman as a garretteer. Let in high rais'd notes that pow'r be invoked ;
Homely and familiarly, when thou com'st back, Calm the rough seas, by which she sails to rest,
Talk of Will Conqueror, and Prester Jack. From sorrows here t' a kingdom ever bless'd.
Go, bashful man, lest here thou blush to look And teach this hymn of her with joy, and sing,
Upon the progress of thy glorious book,
To which both Indies sacrifices send;
And thy leaves must embrace what comes from
The myrrh, the pepper, and the frankincense.
This magnifies thy leaves ; but if they stoop SORROW, that to this house scárce knew the way, To neighbour wares, when merchants do anhoop Is, oh ! heir of it, our all is his pay.
Voluminous barrels; if thy leaves do then This strange chance claims strange wonder, and to convey these wares in parcels unto men; Nothing can be so strange, as to weep thus. [us If for vast tuns of currants, and of figs, 'T is well, his life's loud speaking works deserve, Of med'cinal and aromatic twigs, And give praise too; our cold tongues could not Thy leaves a better method do provide, serve:
Divide to pounds, and ounces subdivide. 'T is well, he kept tears from our eyes before, If they stoop lower yet, and rent our wares, That to fit this deep ill we might have store. Home-manufactures to thick popular fairs,
If omni-pregnant there, upon warm stalls
PROGRESS OF THE SOUL.
16 AUCUSTI, 1601. Worst malefactors, to whom men are prize,
more than others. Yet I would not be so rebellious Some leaves may paste strings there in other books, against myself, as not to do it, since I love it; nor so And so one may, which on another looks,
unjust to others, to do it sine talione. As long as I Pilfer, alas! a little wit from you;
give them as good hold upon me, they must pardon But hardly much; and yet I think this true. me my bitings. I forbid no reprehender, but him As Sibil's was, your book is mystical,
that, like the Trent council, forbids not books, but For every piece is as much worth as all.
authors, damning whatever such a name hath or Therefore mine impotency I confess,
shall write. None write so ill, that he gives not The healths, which my brain bears, must be far less: something exemplary to follow, or fly. Now when Thy giant-wit o'erthrows me, I am gone;
I begin this book, I have no purpose to come into And, rather than read all, I would read none. any man's debt; how my stock will hold out, I
know not; perchance waste, perchance increase in
If I do borrow any thing of antiquity, besides that I make account that I pay it to posterity, with as much, and as good, you shall still find me
to acknowledge it, and to thank not him only, that SONNET
hath digged out treasure for me, but that hath
lighted me a candle to the place. All, which I THE TOKEN.
will bid you remember, (for I will bave no such
readers as I can teach) is, that the Pythagorean Send me some tokens, that my hope may live, doctrine doth not only carry one soul from man to
Or that my easeless thoughts may sleep and rest; man, nor man to beast, but indifferently to plants Send me some honey, to make sweet my hive, also: and therefore you must not grudge to find
That in my passions I may hope the best. the same soul in an emperor, in a post-horse, and I beg nor ribhand wrought with thy own hands, in a maceron; since no unreadiness in the soul, To kpit our loves in the fantastic strain
but an indisposition in the organs, works this. And Of new-touch'd youth; nor ring, to show the stands therefore, though this soul could not move when it
Of our affection, that, as that 's round and plain, was a melon, yet it may remember, and can now So should our loves meet in simplicity;
tell me, at what lascivious banquet it was served : No, nor the corals, which thy wrist enfold, and though it could not speak, when it was a spider, Lac'd up together in congruity,
yet it can remember, and now tell me, who used it To show our thoughts should rest in the same hold; for poison to attain dignity. However the bodies No, nor thy picture, though most gracious, have dulled her other faculties, her memory hath
And most desir'd, 'cause 't is like the best; ever been her own ; which makes me so seriously Nor witty lines, wbich are most copious,
deliver you by her relation all her passages from Within the writings, which thou hast address'd. her first making, when she was that apple which Send me nor this, nor that, t'increase my score ; Eve eat, to this time when she is she, whose life But swear thou think'st I love thee, and no more. you shall find in the end of this book.
Greek brass, or Roman iron, 'is in this one ; And mend the wrecks of th’empise, and late Rone,
If (as devout and sharp men fitly guess)
Which could not sin, and yet all sins did bear; At Tagus, Po, Seine, Thames, and Danow dine, Which could not die, yet could not choose but die ;) And see at night thy western land of mine; Stood in the self-same room in Calvary, Yet hast thou not more nations seen than she, Where first grew the forbidden learned tree; That before thee one day began to be;
For on that tree hung in securitie
[free. And, thy frail light being quench’d, shall long, long This soul, made by the Maker's will from pulling outlive thee.
Prince of the orchard, fair as dawning morn, Nor, holy Janus, in whose sovereign boat
Fenc'd with the law, and ripe as soon as born, The church, and all the monarchies did float; That apple grew, which this soul did enlive; That swimming college, and free hospital
Till the then climbing serpent, that now creeps Of all mankind, that cage and vivary
For that offence, for which all mankind weeps, Of fowls and beasts, in whose womb Destiny Took it, and ther, whom the first man did wive Us and our latest nepnews did install;
(Whom, and her race, only forbiddings drive) (From thence are all deriv'd, that fill this all) He gave it, she ť her husband; both did eat : Didst thou in that great stewardship embark So perished the eaters and the meat; (sweat. So divers shapes into that floating park, (spark. And we (for treason taints the blood) thence die and As have been mov'd, and inform'd by this heav'nly
Man all at once was there by woman slain; Great Destiny, the commissary of God,
And one by one we 're here slain o'er again That hast mark'd out a path and period
By them. The mother poison'd the well-head, For every thing; who, where we offspring took,
The daughters here corrupt us, rivalets; Our ways and ends seest at one instant. Thou
No smallness 'scapes, no greatness breaks their nets: Knot of all causes, thou, whose changeless brow
She thrust us out, and by them we are led Ne'er smiles nor frowns, O vouchsafe thou to look, Astray, from turning to whence we are fled. And show my story, in thy eternal book.
Were prisoners judges, 't would seem rigorous; That (if my prayer be fit) I may understand
She sinn'd, we bear; part of our pain is thus (us. So much myself , as to know with what hand,
To love them, whose fault to this painful love yok'd How scant or liberal, this my life’s race is spann'd. so fast in us doth this corruption grow,
That now we dare ask why we should be so; To my six lustres, almost now out-wore,
Would God (disputes the curious rebel) make Except thy book owe me so many more;
A law, and would not have it kept? Or can Except my legend be free from the lets
His creature's will cross his? Of every man, Of steep ambition, sleepy poverty,
For one, will God (and be just) vengeance take! Spirit-quenching sickness, dull captivity,
Who, sinn'd ? 't was not forbidden to the snake, Distracting business, and from beauty's nets,
Nor her, who was not then made; nor is 't writ, And all that calls from this and t' others whets;
That Adam cropt, or knew the apple; yet 0! let me not lanch out, but let me save
The worm, and she, and he, and we endure for it. Th' expense of brain and spirit ; that my grave His right and due, a whole unwasted man, may have. But snatch me, heav'nly spirit, from this vain
Reck’ning their vanity ; less is their gain But if my days be long, and good enough,
Than bazard still to meditate on ill,
[toys In vain this sea shall enlarge or enrough
Though with good mind; their reason's like those Itself; for I will through the wave and foam,
Of glassy bubbles, which the gamesome boys And hold in sad lone ways a lively sprite,
Stretch to so nice a thinness through a quill, Make my dark heavy poem light, and light.
That they themselves break, and do themselves spill. For, though through many straits and lands I roam, Arguing is heretic's game, and exercise, I lanch at Paradise, and sail towards home:
As wrestlers, perfects them: not liberties (resies. The course, I there began, shall here be stay'd ;
Of speech, but silence; hands, not tongues, end he Sails hoisted there, struck here ; and anchors laid In Thames, which were at Tigris and Euphrates Just in that instant, when the serpent's gripe weigh'd.
Broke the slight veins, and tender conduit pipe,
Through which this soul from the tree's root did draw For the great soul, which here amongst us now Life and growth to this apple, fled away Doth dwell, and moves that hand, and tongue, and This loose soul, old, one and another day. brow,
As lightning, which one scarce dare say he saw, Which, as the Moon the sea, moves us; to hear 'T is so soon gone, (and better proof the law Whose story with long patience you will long; Of sense, than faith requires) swiftly she few (Por 't is the crown, and last strain of my song) T'a dark and foggy plot; her, her fates threw This soul, to whom Luther and Mahomet were There through th' Earth's pores, and in a plant Prisons of desh; this soul, which oft did tear,
hous'd her anew,
The plant, thus abled, to itself did force
Already this hot cock in busb and tree,
He asks her not who did so taste, por when;
Men, till they took laws, which made freedom less, His right arm be thrust out towards the east,
Their daughters and their sisters did ingress; Westward bis left; th' ends did themselves digest Till now unlawful, therefore ill, 't was not ; Into ten lesser strings; these fingers were: So jolly, that it can myve this soul: is And as a slumb'rer stretching on his bed,
The body so free of his kindnesses, This way he this, and that way scattered
That self-preserving it hath now forgot, His other leg, which feet with toes up bear;
And slack’neth not the soul's and body's knot, Grew on his middle part, the first day, hair,
Which temp'rapce straitens? freely on his she-friends To show, that in love's bus'ness he should still
He blood, and spirit, pith, and marrow spends, A dealer be, and be us’d, well or ill:
Ill steward of himself, bimself in three years ends. His apples kindle; his leaves force of conception kill. A mouth, bat dumb, he hath; blind eyes, deaf ears; Else might he long have liv'd ; man did not know And to his shoulders dangle subtle hairs;
Of gumıny blood, which doth in holly grow, A young Colossus there he stands upright :
How to make bird-lime, nor how to deceive And, as thạt ground by him were conquered,
With feign'd calls, his nets, or enwrapping snare A leafy garland wears he on his head
The free inhabitants of th' pliant air. Enchasă with little fruits, so red and bright,
Man to beget, and woman to conceive, That for them you would call your love's lips white; Ask'd not of roots, nor of cock-sparrows, leave : So of a lone unhaunted place possessid,
Yet chooseth he, though none of these he fears, Did this soul's second inn, built by the guest
Pleasantly three; then straitned twenty years, This living buried man, this quiet mandrake, rest.
To live, and to increase his race, himself outwears.
No lustful woman came this plant to grieve, This coal with overblowing quench'd and dead,
With the male's jelly newly lear'ned was, And so her cradled child the moist-red eyes For they had intertouch'd, as they did pass; Had never shut, nor slept, since it saw light;
And one of those small bodies, fi sed so, Poppy she knew, she knew the mandrake's might, This soul inform'd; and able it to row And tore up both, and so coold her child's blood :
Itself with finny oars, which she did fit,
And with his arched neck this poor fish catch'd:
Could think he sought it, he had swallow'd clear Warm bird o'erspread, and sat still evermore, This, and much such; and, unblam'd, devour'd there Till her enclos'd child kick'd, and pick'd itself a door. All, but who too swift, too great, or well armed were. Out crept a sparrow, this soul's moving inn,
Now swam a prison in a prison put, On whose raw arms stiff feathers now begin,
And now this soul in double walls was shut; As children's teeth through gums, to break with pain; Till, melted with the sway's digestive fire, His flesh is jelly yet, and his bones threads ;
She left her house the fish, and vapour'd forth: All a new downy mantle overspreads.
Fate, not affording bodies of more worth A mouth he opes, which would as much contain
For her as yet, bids her again retire As his late house, and the first hour speaks plain,
T" another fish, to any new desire And chirps aloud for meat. Meat fit for men
Made a new prey: for he, that can to none His father steals for him; and so feeds then
Resistance make, nor complaint, is sure gone; One, that within a month will beat him from his
Weakness invites, but silence feasts oppression. hen. la this world's youth wise Nature did make haste, Pace with the native stream this fish doth keep, Things ripen'd sooner, and did longer last ; And journies with ber towards the glassy deep,
But oft retarded ; once with a hidden net, (taught | Some inland sea; and ever, as he went,
Stays in his court, at his own net, and tbere
And in his gulf-like throat sucks every thing, Here by her smallness she two deaths o'erpast,
That passeth near. Fish chaseth fish, and all, Once innocence 'scap'd, and left th'oppressor fast; Flier and follower, in this whirlpool fall; The net through swam, she keeps the liquid path,
might not states of more equality And whether she leap up sometimes to breath, Consist? and is it of necessity
[must die? And suck in air, or find it underneath ;
That thousand guiltless smalls, to make one great, Or working parts like mills, or limbecs hath, To make the water thin, and air like faith,
Now drinks he up seas, and he eats up flocks ; Cares not, but safe the place she's come unto,
He justles islands, and he shakes firm rocks : Where fresh with salt waves meet ; and what to do Now in a roomful house this soul doth float, She knows not, but between both makes a board or And, like a prince, she sends her faculties two.
To all her limbs, distant as provinces. So far from hiding her guests water is,
The Sun hath twenty times both Crab and Goat That she shows them in bigger quantities,
Parched, since first lanch'd forth this living boat; Than they are. Thus her, doubtful of her way,
”T is greatest now, and to destruction For game, and not for hunger, a sea-pie
Nearest : there 's no pause at perfection;
Greatness a period hath, but hath no station.
Two little fishes, wbom he never harm'd,
Nor fed on their kind, two, not throughly arm'd (As are by great ones men, which lowly stood)
With hope that they could kill him, nor could do It's rais'd to be the raiser's instrument and food.
Good to theinselves by his death (they did not eat
His flesh, nor suck those oils, which thence outstreat) Is any kind subject to rape like fish?
Conspir'd against him; and it might undo Ill unto man they neither do, nor wish;
The plot of all, that the plotters were two, Fishers they kill not, nor with noise awake; But that they fishes were, and could not speak. They do not hunt, nor strive to make a prey How shall a tyrant wise strong projects break, Of beasts, nor their young sons to bear away; If wretches can on them the common anger wreak? Fowls they pursue not, nor do undertake To spoil the nests industrious birds do make; The flail'd-finn'd thresher, and steel-beak'd swordYet them all these unkind kinds feed upon: Only attempt to do, what all do wish: [fish To kill them is an occupation,
The threshor backs him, and to beat begins ; And laws make fasts and lents for their destruction. The sluggard whale yields to oppression,
And, t'hide himself from shame and danger, down A sudden stiff land-wind in that self hour
Begins to sink; the sword-fish upward spins, To sea-ward forc'd this bird, that did devour
And gores him with his beak; his staff-like fius The fish; he cares not, for with ease he flies,
So well the one, his sword the other plies, Fat gluttony's best orator: at last
That, now a scoff and prey, this tyrant dies, So long he hath flown, and hath Aown so fast,
And (his own dole) feeds with himself all companics, That leagues o'erpass'd at sea, now tir'd he lies, And with his prey, that till then languish'd, dies :
Who will revenge his death ? or who will call The souls, no longer foes, two ways did err.
Those to account, that thought and wrought his fall? The fish I follow, and keep no calendar
The heirs of slain kings we see are often so Of th' other: he lives yet in some great officer,
Transported with the joy of what they get, Into an embryon fish our soul is thrown,
That they revenge and obsequies forget; And in due time thrown out again, and grown
Nor will against such men the people go, To such vastness; as if unmanacled
Because he's now dead, to whom they should show From Greece, Morea were, and that, by some
Love in that act. Some kings by vice being grown Earthquake unrooted, loose Morea swam;
So needy of subject's love, that of their own Or seas from Afric's body had severed
They think they lose, if love be to the dead prince And torn the hopeful promontory's head,
shown. This fish would seem these, and, when all hopes fail, This soul, now free from prison and passion, A great ship overset, or without sail Hulling, might (when this was a wbelp) be like this Hath yet a little indignation,
That so small hammers should so soon down beat At every stroke his brazen fins do take,
So great a castle: and having for her house More circles in the broken sea they make,
Got the strait cloister of a wretched mouse, Than cannon's voices, when the air they tear: (As basest men, that have not what to eat, His ribs are pillars, and his bigh arch'd roof Nor enjoy aught, do far more hate the great, Of bark, that blunts best steel, is thunder-proof. Than they, who good repos d estates possess) Swim in him swallow'd dolphins without fear, This soul, late taught that great things might by less And feel no sides, as if his vast womb were Be slain, lo gallant mischief doth herself address.