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THE TWELFTH HOURE.
Whose spritual tortures, soules asunder draw, And all who doe this holy city gaine,
Shall there for ever (crown'd with glory) raigne. os: If these againe were to beginne their race, My Muse, abandoning the Stygian bounds, th And by their carriage, freedome could procure, Which nought but griefe and horrour can afford, mit What course so strange that they would not embrace? Would gladly monnt above the crystall rounds,
No charming pleasure could them then allure; To celebrate the glory of the Lord. *** Even sieknesse, torment, poverty, disgrace, Who by his bountedus pow'r with angels' sounds
They, whilst alive, would willingly endure; My humble accents sweetly may accord, 7. Yea, though their life a thousand yeares should last, And me at length amidst that quire may bring,
So that their griefe might end when it were past. Where I desire eternally to sing.
And if they would doe this to scape from paine, *** Though otherwise the Lord should them neglect, e con What would they doe that happinesse to gaine, Which is design'd for them that are elect?
DOOMES DAY; That they for ever might in Heaven remaine,
OR, As those whom God most dearely doth affect; aur lob's suffrings all for this would small appeare,
THE GREAT DAY OF THE LORD'S IVDGMENT. ens Though multipli'd so long as they were here.
You who as yet doe draw this common ayre,
The height of joy the cleared soules attends ;
The earth and sea suppos'd are new to be ;
The new lerusalem from Heaven descends,
Where still to dwell God doth with men agree; All now may have, none can when lost redeeme.
The heavenly blisse, all humane sense transcends, 1: If Loose not your thoughts in fancie's fields to stray,
Which saints attaine when thus from trouble free; Lest charming pleasures doe the judgement blinde, The joyes of Heaven for blessed soules prepar’d, *** Which reason's fort to vanity betray,
Are pointed at but cannot be declar'd. en And (weakening vertue) molífie the minde;
Then onely leave (when vanishing away)
Tu' eares have not heard, nor the eyes have never As drunke, or mad, or dreaming at the best,
[thought; Fooles thus may rave, but never soundly rest.
The joyes of Heaven, more great then can be
To touch my lippes, that stain'd so oft have been, Remember that the bounds where we remaine, Lord, from thine altar, let a coale be brought; Was given to man when as from God he fell, Make me cast off what ever is uncleane, Not for delight, but in a high disdaine,
That sacred grounds with reverence may be sought; Were damn’d to dye, that he a wretch might dwell; Thy inner temple let thy servant see, Here first to plague him with continuall paine, Where of things holy, the most holy be. When barr'd from Eden, this was Adam's Hell, As Hell at last shall be to all his race,
What glorious change doth dazle thus mine eye? Who proudly sinne, and doe not seek for grace.
In place of th' earth where miseries are rife,
The torturing racke that did man's patience try, And let none thinke (reducing Heaven's decree) With wasting travels, and dividing strife, That they can make this mansion of annoyes, Who (by these labours) did but dearely buy (As if a Paradise) from trouble free,
Terrestriall things fit for a temporall life: A ground for rest, a lodging fit for joyes;
I see an earth that greater pleasure yeelds, Though numbers (smooth'd with showes) deluded be, Then Gentiles dream'd in their Elysian fields. 5.3" In place of reall good, affecting toyes :
This is the lists wbere all a proofe must give, Time (as for sport) now quickly deckes and spoiles Who,suffring here, more blest when hence shall live. This passive ground, which al waies worke requires, Loe, thousands oft where dangers are most rife,
To punish man (as sentenc'd first) with toiles, With honour, fortune, or what else beld deare,
The meanes by which bis maint'nance he acquires, To all death's engines dare expose their life,
Whilst sometime barren, sometime fertile soiles, Whil'st losse and travell, pleasure doe appeare,
Give joy, or griefe, with agues of desires: And all the end expected by this strife,
Still fighting with the same, till yeeld he must, s Is but to gaine some towne, or fortresse neare,
A fettred captive humbled in the dust.
We daily see the Earth (doe what we can)
How it the cares of wretched worldlings scornes, And should not we our whole endeavours bend, (Bloud-colour'd furrowes frowning upon man) To force that city which triumphs above ?
Her vapours poison, and she prickes with thornes; Which doth invite, and not it selfe defend,
But now farre from that state which first began, With sacred armes, if we couragious prove;
it (which the Lord as his delight adornes) No furniture is needfull for this end,
Is (alwajes faire) much chang'd from what before, But patience, hope, faitb, charity, and love: A virgin now, not violable more,
Then Eden's garden growne more glorious farre, The noyse is musicke, when their course ought
All countries purchase now with strangers' spoiles, A constant course still kept no kinde of jarre
Even what is daily us'd to cloath or feed, Shall then disturbe the generall peace of things;
And that with many mercenary toiles Milde zephire's gentle breath more sweetly smels, Though but superfluous, not the things we need, Then Indian odours, or what most excels.
But as each place had quintessenc'd all soiles,
It what can be desir'd doth freely breed : No threatning cloud, all charg'd with haile-stones, The honey there from every flower may flow, lowres;
And on each reed taste-pleasing sugars grow. Then silke dy'd greene the grasse more pleasant The mountaines that so long have hid their store, When bath'd with liquid pearles, not blansh'd with Lest avarice their bowels might have torne, No raging floud her tender face oreflowes, (showrs, May turne without what was within before, Whose bosome all embroidered is with flowres,
Free from deforming rockes, and pestring thorne, Not nature's worke, nor art's that man bestowes:
Whil'st silver fin'd from the confining ore, The curious knots and plots most prais'd below,
And veynes of perfect gold, their breasts adorne ; To figure this, can no resemblance show.
All cloath'd with metalls thus, they shining bright,
And deck'd with jewels, may seeme flames of light. There white's perfection, embleme of things pare, The lightning lilies, beautie's colours reare, O what brave prospect would these hils impart, And blushing roses modestly allure,
If this new earth were to perfection brought,
But by the Lord miraculously wrought,
Above the reach of the most curious thought? The gilly-flower a quint-essence may be.
The ayre is all but smels of pretious things,
And with melodious sounds, sweet musicke brings These with all else that here most rare have beene, In smell or show, the scent or sight to feed, It may be, all that Eden could afford, Have gorgeous garments of eternall greene, Ere sinne's contagious seed it first did staine, And eminently emulously breed,
Shall be with increase to this earth restor'd, With many sorts that we have never seene, In more excellency then wit can fayne; Which for excellencies these farre exceed:
And, 0, who knowes but it may, please the Lord They (mix'd in workes) mosaically grow,
To cast the same in other moulds againe,
As we, till glorifi'd, cannot conceive?
When people parted farre in sundry bands,
That distant states together might converse, That earth no doubt we shall most perfect view, Firme ground for ships, a liquid bridge'twixt lands: Since (this quite ravid) he makes the same all new.
Thus her vast desert, meanes for traffique yeelds,
And with least labour, hath must fertile fields. 0! what excellency endeeres all things? For store, not use, for pleasure, not for gaine,
But now things to export, or to import, Th' earth dainty fruits still in abundance brings,
There needs no sea, facilitating gaine, Which never fade, nor doe fall downe in vaine,
All may their bodies where they please transport, And even as one is pluck'd, another springs ;
Not fearing danger, nor not feeling paine; No leafe is lost, no, nor no way doth staine:
Yet may some depth, though in another sort, The orangers not singular then be,
To decke the earth, an ornament remaine: Where fruit and flourish garnish every tree.
Or as a glasse where soules themselves may see,
Whil'st beautie's wonders there reflected be. In walkes distinguish’d, trees some grounds may By contemplation (farre from mortals led) With divers baits inviting smell and taste, [grace, I thinke I see a sea, a moving ground, Then (as indented) differing sorts a space,
(Not from the clouds by secret conducts fed) In groves grown thicker, would a shadow cast, And them betwixt the playnes in every place,
In azure fields, as emeraulds had been drown'd,
Or melted saphirs on an amber bed, Are daiuty gardens which doe alwaies last
Which rockes of pearle, and corall banks doe bound : In more perfection, then all these attain'd, Which art or nature made, or fancy fayn'd.
It seems this Heaven, or else like stuffe and forme,
Is layd below, all starres, and free from storme. Meandring rivers smoothly smiling passe, How weakely doth my Muse this taske parsue, And whil'st they (lover-like) kisse courted lands, With strengthlesse lines such lofty things to sound? Would emulate the emerauld-like grasse,
I scarce can comprehend that which I view, All pav'd with pearle, empallid with golden sands; Much lesse can tell, what beauties shall abound, To make a mirrour of their moving glasse,
When as the Lord doth this worne earth renue, Por usual creatures, angels come in bands: Heaven's treasures then embelishing the ground:
My ravish'd judgement quite confounded rests, And straight sweet sounds melodiouslie tell,
This is God's tent, he comes with men to dwell.
Where Christ for spouse expected is to passe, When they of Heaven the heavenly beauties know, with walles of jasper compass'd on each side, And shine aloft like starres, yea farre more bright, Hath streets all pard with gold, more bright then When they that kingdome then securely owe,
glasse; By promise first, last by possession's right: Twelve pretious stones for walkes her waies divide, From which no doubt so great contentment springs, Where still there is engravid in lasting brasse, That they esteeme not of inferior things.
Of happie twelve the celebrated names ;
“ An honour due defraying former shames." The stately building, admirably round, Above the compasse of encroaching houres, Life's water pure forth from the throne doth flow, With strength and beauty that doth still abound,
With mutuall joy where saints and angels meete; To lodge the happie host of heavenly powers,
On every side of it life's tree doth grow, The world's great maker curiously did found Where streames of nectar beautifie the streete, On fields of pearle with diamantine towers ! With colours like the sacramentail bow, Which (though most pretious) do no wonder breed, To looke on pleasant, and in tasting sweete; The forme su farre the matter doth exceed. Then from all feare her citizens to free, The sight-confining, crystall-covered skies,
We still his people, he our God will be. That mirrour cleere through which in every part
Of that brave city where the saints doe dwell, The Heaven (as jealous) lookes with many eyes,
Which ravish'd lohn by earthly types designes, To marke men's actions, and to weigh each heart,
Who would the beauty and perfection tell, That spheare of light whose stately course none tries, (As be then saw) had need of angel's lines; To imitate, or æmulate by art,
But this is certaine, that it must excell, That which to us so gorgeous is in show,
Where glory still in the meridian shines; The building's botome is, the part most low.
No shadow there can ever cloud the light,
Where every thing is of itselfe still bright.
Each stone amidst the street doth sbine afarre, Who durst but aime by mortall types to cleere,
And like to lightniug, light about bestows;
As in the firmament a radient starre, (As fondly trusting to deluded wit) Might make his madnesse nothing else appeare,
Each just man's beauty now for brightnesse grows; And should a crime more monstrous thus commit,
Then he whose presence darknesse quite must barre, Then thence one (stealing fire) was fain'd to do,
The life of light, the fountaine whence it flowes ; And should for punishment farre passe him too.
Is (that great day which at a height still stayes)
The Sunne of glory, and the just his rayes. Who can (though dayly seene) describe the sky, There none shall need like mortals with complaints By which (poore curtaine) better is enclos'd, (World's common care)for want of roome to grudge, (With mustrid beauties courting still the eye) But he in granting grace who never faints, Though eminent to every age expos’d? (try, | Doth them reward of whom he had beene judge; Of Sunne, Moone, starres, who doth the substance And (clear'd from sinne) all justly then call'd saints, Or how their bodies are for light compos'd ? Doth daigne himselfe (as harbenger) to lodge, The very soules by which we reason thus,
Since gone before (where we shall him embrace) Are for their essence strangers unto vs.
Of purpose to prepare the promis'd place. Then of Heaven's mysteries if we should judge, The swelling earth where hils such beights do reare, The work would prove (our maker's wrath to tempt) To be our jayle, which Heaven a space decrees, Ridiculous folly, arrogancy huge,
Man, cattell, corne, and what these need doth beare, Presumption still encountring with contempt; Whose whole none yet (though still in travell) sees; And if that we (base wormes whom clay doth lodge) It compass'd is by a farre distant spheare, By scaling clouds, Heaven's stately towers attempt; And that by others, growing by degrees; To paint their glory, in the least degree,
Of which in bounds the highest must abound, The Sunne it selfe would scarce a shadow be. A large circumference, an endlesse round. The Lord's chiefe house is built of living stone,
Heaven's store of roomes by Christ is clearly shown, But certainely celestiall roomes excell,
Yet would not this extended be so farre, Which Christ himselfe prepares for every one,
To meke each place peculiarly one's owne, Where they at last eternally may dwell ;
Where one may be, and thence may others barre ; With majestie there stands his stately throne;
This smels too much of what we here have known, The bounds about doe all with glory swell :
Which most of minds the harmony doth marre; Let this content, no words such worth can eaven,
These words of mine, and thine, chiefe grounds of He who made all the world, made this his Heaven. The fountains are of all the toils of life. [strife, What sacred vision calls us from the skie,
Soules glorifi'd may where they please repaire, A mystery with reverence to attend ?
Then made secure, that nought can them annoy, From starry towers the silver streamers flie, For no restraint their freedome doth impaire, Whilstth'azure roundstheir portswith pompe extend: Who as his host the Lord of hosts convoy ; A glorious towne with glistring walls I spie! As fishes in the seas, fowls in the ayre, Which falls not downe, but softly doth descend, None claimes a share, but all do all enjoy:
With partiall eyes not making choice of parts, This heavenly wealth one with much toyle attaines, Save onely God, no object draws their hearts. By reading, acting, and observing still,
And then (though slowly wax'd) it quickly waines, Though here strange longings bred by strong de- Which long ere perfect doth begin to spili; sires,
Rage first doth burne, last, rheumes do drowne the With restlesse passions racke the doubtfull minde,
brains, That it (still flaming with some fancie's fires)
Youth knowledge scornes, it doting age doth kill: Is by free choice affectionately pin'd;
None can engrosse, por yet exhaust this store, Now fully pleas'd with all that it requires,
But all hare by degrees, some lesse, some more. Each soule in Heaven perfection's height doth Loe, that which made so slow a progresse here, finde:
By childhood, folly, or by errour staid, Where neither want nor wearinesse molests,
Now (wholly perfect) doth at first appeare, All had ere wish'd, no expectation rests.
Not in fraile lodgings by grosse organs sway'd;
The bappie souls from all corruption cleare, Calm'd are the tumbling waves of stormy cares, Do shine like starres, with righteousnesse array'd ; (Whil'st frustrated of what they do attend) And bodies glorifi'd do enter in, Which tosse poore soules on rocks of black de- Not bow'd by sicknesse, nor abus'd by sinne.
spaires, That, shunning shallow shelfes, with straits contend; If on the face one now may reade the minde, No thirst of knowledge flattering ease impaires,
In characters, which griefe or joy imparts, A groundlesse deep, a circle without end :
The same reflected (then) we clearly finde, Since they of good things have continuall store, By sympathie the secrets of all hearts; And (knowing all) do need to learne no more.
If Moses' face upon the mountaine shin'd,
Much more when glorifi'd these other parts, I wonder much how any man can doubt,
Then there must prove, where nothing can be foule, That this our knowledge should continue still,
All eye the body, and the eye all soule.
Then pleasure's height is onely in the Lord,
Who ill extirpates, what is good extends ;
Yet how could this but just delight afford ?
(Though publick zeale presse downe all private ends)
To see at last with like contentment stor'd, Is not abolish'd, but made new and cleane.
Them whoni we lov'd, wife, children, servants,
friends : No doubt these sprituall parts must still remaine, Communicated joyes (as sowen) do grow, Not rais'd, but rectifi’d, in value more,
Whil'st increase comes by that which we bestow. Else faith (too credulous) doth beleeve in vaine, That all shall rise in substance as before;
All must rejoyce to see the godly's good, If these dissolve, and that we get againe,
Though for the wicked no man shall be griev'd ; New gifts for them from the Eternall's store; At least this is (if rightly understood) Then should the meanes by which at last we move, A pleasant errour, and may be beleev'd; (No resurrection) a creation prove.
When seeing them with whom long toss'd we stood,
Till by the Lord (wvbo heard our cryes) reliev'd, These faculties, that of themselves were good, Shall we not joyne in him with mutuall joy, In souls from Heaven as their chiefe wealth in- Whilst it then comforts, which did earst annoy?
fus'd, Had man (as first created) constant stood,
A senselesse pourtrait curious to acquire, Were excellent when innocently us'd;
We seek the shadow of a vanish'd show, But since that sinne did sway vaine mortal's brood, If thought like them (rapt with celestiall fire) To serve their lusts, these treasures are abus'd ;
Whose deeds, or words, were singular below; Yet when renu'd, and to perfection brought,
Yea, even of ethnicks, if they did aspire, By them then earst farre more may now be wrought. By morall vertues fame's applause to owe:
And every monument do much esteeme, Man's father first, ere blinded by his fall,
Which did from death such memories redeeme. (Free from informers) whil'st he liv'd alone, Knew Evah clearly, whom he straight did call
Who would not purchase, though with charge and
strife, Flesh of my flesh, and of my bone the bone; And Peter knew (though to fraile dust still thrall) God's earth-begotten sonne, his selfe-borne wife,
A lively peece that would resemble right, T'wo that were buried many ages gone;
When both were happie, and at beautie's height? Let tabernacles, Lord, here builded be
Parre more of his owne Sonne, the Lord of life, For Moses, for Elias, and for thee.
Man deif'd, God mortall made, whose sight This pret ous jewell (by wit's toils refind)
The fathers wish'd, ere forc'd from hence to die, Which joynes with judgement to determine strife,
And which made Simeon straight grow glad to dye. The end of travell, treasure of the minde,
Who then can thinke with what exceeding joy The spoils of Paradise, the price of life.,
We shall our Saviour's selfe, our Soveraigne see, Whose light to get (as ignorant) when blinde, Who suffered death, that he might death destroy, Our simple father, and his curious wife
And us poore captives from that tyrant free? Did suffer death, yet grudg'd not at their crosse, Whilst all these saints in person him convoy, As if that knowledge recompenc'd their losse. Whose pictures wish'd, would now so pretious be:
O! what a holy host together throngs,
And if they would (as none can do in ought) To magnifie the Lord with heavenly songs? The breast transparent would bewray each thought. We at that time not onely shall behold,
There one from Adam, Eden's state might heare, Milde Moses there, just Samuel, and the best
How large it was, and in what region plac't, Tbat for the cause of God have beene so bold,
What pleasures did most singular appeare, Whil'st sacred fury breath'd out of their breast,
What bearbs, what fruits, or flowers the garden But even with them that are so much extold,
grae'd; We shall be partners of eternall rest,
How Evab first was knowne, why straight held deare, And spying with what zeale they act their parts,
And if he there that new-borne bride imbrac'd : The greater ardour may enflame our hearts. What these two trees were like in forme, or hew, As earst on th’ Earth he did divinely use,
Where life, and knowledge, vegetable grew.
Who would not gladly know (before he err'd) Then to his harp an holy hymne may sing,
His first designes, what thoughts he entertain'd, Thrice happie thou that thus imploy’dst thy Muse, Each circumstance bow he with God conferr'd, Whose pen, it seemes, was from an angel's wing,
How will (by him not rein'd) above him raign'd, Since thy harmonious sounds still mount, and move
If there to stay, or where to be preferr'd, With melodie to charme the spheares above.
Then in what forme the serpent Satan fain'd;
What taste the apples had, what change, both finde, This is the way to have eternall lines,
By sight, and knowledge, when grown weake and That all the hosts of Heaven may them approve,
blinde. Whose loftie flight no fatall date confines, Whil'st fraughted onely with a sprituall love, He tels how short a time their blisse did last, This is a subjeet which all else declines,
And seem'd thereafter but a vanish'd dreame; And in request for quiristers above,
How angels them from Paradise did cast, Which must these authors all immortall make, Where first their souls were seiz'd by feare and That for God's glory thus a course do take.
shame; The prophets and the patriarchs rejoyce,
Then through what lands these banish'd pilgrims To see the things fulfilld which they fore-told,
past, And all that were the Lord's peculiar choice,
And (forc'd to labour) what rude tools they frame: To whom he did his mysteries unfold,
What race they had, what progresse mankinde made,
And all their crosses till that both were dead. There many millions multiply a voice, And above measure do a measure hold;
When Adam ends, then Noah calls to minde These whom the Lambe of God as his doth seale, Are kindled all with love, and burne with zeale.
The history of all before the Flood,
And how the arke could hold of every kinde, The noble martyrs, (champions of the faith) One of each sexe, to propagate their brood, Who straight, when challeng'd, scorn'd both force How it was well contrivd, for wave and winde, and art,
To void their excrements, and keep their food : (Encount'ring bravely with a tyrant's wrath) And whil'st the seas did wash the earth from sinne, Whose chearfull count'nance smilingly did smart; How that small rempant spent their time within. Then as inviting, not avoyding death, (Their drosse first burn'd) well purifi'd did part;
He can report the world's new growth againe, Not out of haste to have their torments done,
Which at the first no living penne renownes: But that in Heaven they so might settle soone. How every person did a house attaine,
The house a village, villages grew townes; They now do reape the fruits of former toils,
Then provinces all peopled did remaine, All crown'd with starres, like Phoebus in the face, And straight ambition mounted up to crownes; In white, percbance adorn'd with princes' spoyls, That in his time (though all was once bis owne) Whom they (whil'st raging) did orecome in peace; The Aoud was quite forgot, and he not knowne. Of all their bodies drawn from sundry soils, The wounds for pompe do give the greatest grace, We there may learne how that the Lord of old, Which shine, as rubies set in crystall rings, By dreames and visions did deelare his will; And make them to be like the king of kings.
How all who crav'd, had straight his counsell told, Triumphing victors entring Heaven with state,
By urim, thummim, and by ephod still; A golden trumpet may their praise proclaime,
And well they might to prosecute be bold, And some great angell all their deeds dilate,
What prophets first secur'd by sacred skill, Which glory doth reward, not envi'd fame;
Whom then (though great) the world with scorne Then when enstall’d, where eminent in seat,
did view, The voice of thousands celebrates their name:
For till first dead, men never get their due.
How he and Enoch were from hence estrang'd; If there admitted, as whil'st here we live,
If wing'd with flames, or in some cloud involv’d, With mutuall pleasure to exchange our mindes, (No usuall guests) along'st the ayre they rang'd; O what contentment would that conference give, If they their bodies kept, or were dissolv’d, For sweet variety of sundrie kindes !
Or in what forme to, scape, corruption chang'd: Nor need we feare that some would fraud contrive: Christ's ushers thus, their passage serves to prove, Base hate, nor flattery, there no object findes. How we with glory once may mount abore.