The idea of Christian love being a translation, at the instance of Mr. Waller, of a Latin sermon upon John xiii, 34, 35, preach'd by Mr. Edward Young ... ; with a large paraphrase on Mr. Waller's poem Of divine love ; to which are added some copies of verses from that excellent poetess Mrs. Wharton, with others to her. Young, Edward, 1641 or 2-1705. 1688 Approx. 104 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 72 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A67822 Wing Y61 ESTC R14445 13337465 ocm 13337465 99117 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A67822) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 99117) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 443:18) The idea of Christian love being a translation, at the instance of Mr. Waller, of a Latin sermon upon John xiii, 34, 35, preach'd by Mr. Edward Young ... ; with a large paraphrase on Mr. Waller's poem Of divine love ; to which are added some copies of verses from that excellent poetess Mrs. Wharton, with others to her. Young, Edward, 1641 or 2-1705. Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687. Of divine love. Wharton, Anne, 1632?-1685. Poems. Selections. xxxii, 110 p. Printed for Jonathan Robinson ..., London : 1688. Reproduction of original in Cambridge University Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. 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Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor. The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines. Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Bible. -- N.T. -- John XIII, 34-35 -- Sermons. Love -- Religious aspects -- Christianity -- Sermons. Sermons, English -- 17th century. 2000-00 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2001-11 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-02 TCP Staff (Oxford) Sampled and proofread 2002-02 TCP Staff (Oxford) Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-03 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion THE IDEA OF Christian Love. Being a Translation , at the Instance of Mr. WALLER , of a Latin Sermon Upon Iohn xiii . 34 , 35. Preach'd by Mr. EDWARD YOUNG , PREBEND of SALISBURY . With a Large PARAPHRASE on Mr. Waller's POEM of Divine Love. To which are added some Copies of VERSES from that Excellent Poetess Mrs. Wharton , with others to her . — Hic ego rerum Fluctibus in mediis , & tempestatibus urbis , Verba Lyrae motura Sonum connectere dignor ? Hor. London , Printed for Ionathan Robinson , at the Golden-Lion in St. Paul's Church-yard , 1688. THE TRANSLATOR TO THE AUTHOR . WHo Love , the Christian's Duty , and his Praise , In all the Beauties of your Pen surveys ; Seeing my Rythms , may the just censure pass , That here 's a Matchless Di'mond set in Brass : Yet Latin , the most elegant and pure ; The Ignorance of most renders obscure . This may excuse my creeping English Stile : The Jewel is enhans'd thus by its Foil . Who propagated what our Savi'our taught , No Ornament from any Art had brought : Barely to represent such Truths as these , May be enough unbyass'd Minds to please : But most these Golden Rules so much forsake , That who applies them , Satyrs seems to make . The Christian's Character is now reverst , And Hatred for the truest Mark is nurst . The fiercest Heats are varnish'd o're with Zeal ; Each Party thinks God their Decrees will Seal . Were 't in the Pow'r of Man Heav'ns Gate to close , Many would be shut out whom God has chose : Of Means which he appointed they 'd deprive ; And to block up the narrow Way they strive . Some to himself God from each Church do's call , Delights to break down Man's Partiti'on-Wall ; And will at last unite●● in a Peace , Where ev'ry Term , not made by Christ , shall cease . A Church is often a Procrusti'an Bed ; Happy the Man ! who there can rest his Head , Without the pain of be'ng stretcht out to reach His Length , who would impose his Form of Speech : Or else contracted to that scanty Size , Which to a few confines the common prize : While most , to whom the Terms appear less hard , Cannot but grieve , that others are debarr'd Of Benefits , encreasing as they 're shar'd . But Publick Good a Sacrifice is made , To those , to whom Restraints become a Trade . Great is Diana , is the gen'ral Voice ; For few observe what Craftsmen rais'd the Noise . Who at his Neighbour's Liberty repines , That gets no Profit by the Silver Shrines ? Good God! our Hearts so with thy Love inspire , That ev'ry Earth-born Ardor may expire : Let not a Flaming Sword forbid the Taste , Of the fair Fruit in thy new Eden plac'd . May we anticipate the State Above , Where all Things in an unforc'd Order move , Remote from all necessity but Love ! To Mrs. WHARTON . WHen counterfeit Astraea's lustful Rage Joyns to Debauch the too Effem'nate Age ; Draws an Embroider'd Curtain over Sin , And jilts with Promises of Bliss within : 'T is time for you with all your Wealth of Thought , Forth from your lov'd Retirement to be brought : Those Thoughts which Pie'ty to your self endear , Would strangely taking to the World appear . Who could be vicious , who had Vertue seen , By you drest out , with its attractive Meen , Thousands of Graces hov'ring round the Scene ? You best can tell the Charms of vertu'ous Joy ; Despising Venus with her Wanton Boy . Your Fancy , which so much of Heav'n do's view , Could ne're descend low Pleasures to pursue . And when to us you the warm Rays impart , Of Love Divine dancing about your Heart ; You will convert faster than she seduce , Teaching the Epicure Life's noblest use . Far be that Scandal from Poetick Fires , As if best Poets had most loose Desires . If old Philosophy Purgati'ons taught , To fit the Mind for Loftiness of Thought : When 't was no higher than dull Prose to rise , Prose which must keep below the Starry Skyes : ( For Verse the only Language is Above , Where all Things in Harmonious Numbers move ) : How purg'd , how undefil'd should be the Mind , Which imitates the way of the Angelick kind ! From Mrs. WHARTON . DI'monds conceal'd , their Lustre may retain , But Sacred Wit can never , hid , remain : From what e're dark'ning Cloud it takes its Birth , It , like the Rising-Sun , glads half the Earth . True Poesy appears with decent Pride , Not pufft with Praise , nor griev'd when Fools deride . Free and Secure in its own proper Merit ; Scorns Envy ( yet spurns back the flatt'ring Spirit . ) This makes me wonder you thus long conceal'd A Talent , which to all should be reveal'd : And bashfully decline the yielding Boughs , Which Daphne offers to adorn your Brows . Not but that Minds best taught are most afraid , To venture out when they for Glory trade . An humble Mind doth every Path survey , That leads to Fame , and sees how many stray : Observes the steep Ascent to th' Sacred Ground , Which Envy guards , and all new-Comers wounds : Sees many when they are arriv'd so high , They seem to grasp at Fame , and touch the Sky . Whilst swell'd with Vanity they all deride ; Stumbling themselves upon the Rock of Pride : By some more silent Traveller are crost , Thrown from the Top , and all their Hopes are lost . But let not this discourage , nor amaze That humble Mind , which frighted flies for ease , Unto the Cordial of reviving Praise . Praise is the sprightly Wine of growing Fame , Adding most Life to the most fertile Brain ; ( And like that always doth new Thought produce ; So when 't is bad the Wine is its Excuse . ) A truly humble Mind knows what is just , When he seeks Praise through Vanity , or Thirst. And as he scorns the Fame that Flatt'ry gives , He values what from Merit he receives . This forces me with grateful Thanks to own , I 'm prais'd by one , whose Lines such Skill have shown , That I now ought to prize what he esteems , And think there is some worth in my dull Rhymes . To Mrs. WHARTON . Who with Verses to him , sent her Answer to Mr. WALLER . WHen that soft Hand whence Waller has his Dues , Stroaks , and encourages my backward Muse ; Feeds it with Praise , and teaches it to fly : Not to attempt would be Stupidity . She do's the Rev'rend Poet's Age renew , With nobler Art than e're Medaea knew : 'T were hard if she should not the Young inspire , Whom with such blooming Thoughts the Old admire . See! how the Sacred Bard himself excells , While on the Wonders of your Verse he dwells . But his exhalted Head how will it raise , To be caught up to Heaven by your Praise ! To hear from Angel's Form an Angel's Voice Warble his Name , how much must he rejoyce ! Those Ani'mal Spirits which so closely join Unto his Earthy part , a Guest Divine ; By this one Rapture strain'd and weaken'd more , Than by the shock of Time and Thought before ; Not able to resist this added Force , May leave the Soul , 't is likely , to its Course . Wing'd by your Praise 't will to it 's Rest retire , And , Phenix-like , in chearful Flames expire . Forth from the kindling Spices you arise , And to give way to you the Elder dyes : Your Rise Prophetick is of his Decay , Heav'n has , to see your Birth , indulg'd his Stay. And , like Old Sime'on , now he 'l go in Peace , When such a Crown he to his Wishes sees . In Verse's Empire , as of lower Things , Successors nam'd , take from the present Kings : And thus this Prince of Verse divides his Fame , When he your Worth , and Title , do's proclaim . While I , Prometheus-like , steal Fire from you , To my bold Theft , what Punishment is due ? None can of you and Waller write in Prose ; Yet none should do 't but whom kind Nature chose . Like Icarus , with borrow'd Wings I fly , And with his Fate I soon extended lye . I' th' Oce'an of your Praise I have been drown'd , And am but floting on the Water found : No signs of true Poetick Life appear , But th' loss will not deserve a Lady's Tear ; A Lady's Tear's a Pearl of greater price , Than any on the Eastern Shoars there lies : But her Esteem's a Jewel far above Ev'n her own Beauty , next unto her Love. To slight what 's consecrated thus by you , Were both Injustice , and Profaneness too : Your Stamp , like Caesar's Head , does value give ; Each Line approv'd by you , shall through all Ages live . From Mrs. WHARTON . SMall are the poor Returns which you receive , For all the Pleasure which your Verses give ; Yet Gratitude obliges me to this ; Tho for your Pearls , I but return you Glass . This Indi'an Traffick soon will tire you quite , Unless you 're pleas'd that others you delight . And , if your Gen'rous Thoughts I rightly guess , They aim at pleasing , and they have Success : It is the Business , and the Scope of Wit ; Poems are seldom for the Authors writ , But for the Readers ; thus they labour still , Like harmless Bees , to serve another's Will. Whilst you I praise , Words flow methinks so fast , As if my working Thoughts were all in haste . Your Stile I may commend , whilst your unknown : No breach of Modesty in this is shown . Your Worth will force this Tribute from my Heart , Nor can I backward be to praise Desert . Mrs. WHARTON'S PARAPHRASE Upon the 103d PSALM . ADvance my Soul , and all thy Pow'rs incline , To praise the Lord , by whom those Graces shine . Praise him by whom are all those Mercies giv'n , Forget not him who rules both Earth and Heav'n : He who forgives , and heals the wounded Mind ; He who to Mercy ever is inclin'd . Who saves thy Life , and blesseth it with Food : Who crowns thy Labours with abundant Good. Who makes thy Years renew , and keeps thee Young : Joyful as Health , and , as the Eagle , strong ; The Lord who judges between wrong and right : To favour the Oppress'd is his Delight . He who to Moses shew'd his wond'rous Ways : And Isr'el taught to magnify his Praise . The Lord who alway is to Peace inclin'd , Who suffers long , & bears with th' humble Mind . Gentle and Mild , unwilling yet to chide ; Soon he forgives , long will his Anger hide . Tho we offend he will not punish strait : Our Sins are great before we feel their weight . See how the Heav'n is far remov'd from Earth , The Heav'n from which his Mercy takes its birth ; So far is his Compassion rais'd above The feeble Workings of a Mortal Love. Wide is the Space thrô which the lab'ring Sun , From East to West his daily course doth run ; Yet farther from us he our Sins hath plac'd , As willing to forget our Errors past . Paternal Kindness still in him remains , And his creating Favours he maintains . With those that fear him he 'll not angry grow ; For he considers whence our Natures flow . Who made us , knows he took us from the Earth ; Nor much expects to find from such a Birth . The same Original hath ev'ry Flower ; And they , like us , have a short glori'ous Hour . But with the Winds their Glories fly away ; They are not Proof against a Stormy Day . Nor we , however high our Hopes advance , Are Proof against a Blast of adverse Chance . His Mercy 's lasting , and our Life is frail ; Which makes the Lord his gracious Gifts entail On Children's Children , where his Laws are known , To them whose Works assent to Truths they own . From Age to Age his Goodness hath been shown , The mighty Lord , on High hath plac'd his Throne ; Where he surveys the World which is his own . Too weak am I , to sing th' Eternal's Praise : Ye Angels , your Celestial Voices raise ! Ye who excel in Strength , Wisdom , and Pow'r , ( Alas ! the Life of Man is as an Hour : ) Ye that have priviledg to see and hear His wondrous Works , should wondrous Works declare . But yet poor Mortals who are plac'd below , May forward Wills by faint Endeavours show . We who are still in Danger and Alarms , Who 'gainst Temptati'ons always are in Arms ; May yet endeavour to advance his Fame , And he 'l be pleas'd while we invoke his Name , Whilst all his Works his Greatness do proclaim . But thou , my Soul ! be never silent found : Above the Clouds let thy loud Musick sound . Let all who come to thee , by thee be taught The mighty Works that by thy God are wrought . TO ORINDA Upon her PARAPHRASE on the 103d PSALM , sent with Verses to Himself . I. IF Orpheus charm'd the Stones into a Dance ; He less the Pow'r of Sacred Song did shew , Than , fair Orinda , 's felt from you ; Who to a Poet's Name , And to be Candidate for Fame , Ev'n duller me advance . You , like my Genius , move unseen , Raise me , immerst in Business of the Barr , My Lyre untun'd , the Strings at jarr , ( Suited unto that wrangling Scene ) Compose the Discords in my tuneless Mind ; A sudden Change I find : Earth I despise , and Earthly Things , And now , methinks , I mount before the King of Kings . II. He David taught to sing his Praise , Warming his Heart with true Celestial Fire : And you do's raise , The Prophet's Steps so nigh to trace ; That well we may , Without blaspheming say , You the same Spirit do's delight t' inspire . We cannot say that Prophecies are ceast : God fills the pious Poets Breast , Assists the Faculties , and tho He dictate not the Words they write , Yet gives the Sense from which they flow ; And when tow'rds Heav'n they rise , Still with new Force supplies , First rais'd them on the Wing , and guides them in their Flight . III. 'T is not in vain you bid the Angels sing , Th' Eternal's Praise , they minister to you : Yours and David's Harp they string , Mingle themselves with ev'ry Song , Keep off the Demons hov'ring in the Air , Distil themselves like Dew Of peaceful Night upon your Dreams ; And to the Morning keep th' Impression strong , That Force , which makes the Pow'rs of Hell despair Of a Diversion from your Heav'nly Theams . What less than Angels can the Honour guard Of beauteous Ladies in the Flow'r of Youth ; Midst all the Flatt'ries of deluding Sense , Teach them to value Truth , And Truths Reward ; Before the Pomp and Show , And ev'ry vain Pretence Of Pleasure here below . Blest Souls in whom their Beauty thus do's prove , The truest Image seen by Mortal Eye , Of the Perfections of our God most High , Feasting themselves and us with the Creator's Love ! IV. If by this help I thus can rise Unto those Beauties only Thought can reach ; Thought , which but dully dictates to the Speech , ( Yet Thought must here its Poverty confess ) You need not blush should my enlightned Eyes , Behold that charming Dress , Your Soul put on when it came cloath'd to view ; The Garment must its Innocence express ; And , like your Lines , inspire With Love , and Rev'rence too , A Love without a bold Desire ; A Lambent Flame , Such as gives Light , and Warmth , but ne're consumes : The Light of Heav'n from whence it came . Here none t' approach presumes , With Fire less hallow'd than he lays Upon the Altar when he prays : Incense more pure t' a sacred Poetess is due , Than from the Heathen-world their chast Diana drew . V. Heav'n seems to open , Angels to come down , In lovely Vehicles of thick'ned Air , And with a Glory , ' stead of Lawrel , crown The Azure Temples of the teaching Fair : While Men with Extasy attend her Lays , Divinely set to the Almighty's Praise . As Grace on Earth of endless Bliss , Your happy Verse the Incoati'on is Of that , in which you shall with Angels join , When you above the Stars shall shine : Free from Pain , and free from Fear , With ev'ry Object of your Care ; Where only Love and Harmony appear , The Love and Harmony Immortal and Divine . VI. Sense of your own , Pity of others Wrong , Shall give no Interrupti'on to your Song . The ways of Providence so dark , Not to be toucht by Hand prophane ; Lest we with Uzza's Guilt , have Uzza's Pain , Who fondly thought to help the tottring Ark ; You there will see the Clouds away , In that bright everlasting Day ; Worthy of God , and of that Love , With which he cherishes frail Mortal Race ; Whom of the do's with temp'ral Evils prove , Tries and Refines them in Afflicti'on's Fire ; Until they 're fitted for his Grace , And thrô'ly taught beyond this lower World t' aspire . ADVERTISEMENT . THrô the Printer's Mistake , the Verses from pag. vii . are misplac'd ; having been intended to come in at the end . THE IDEA OF Christian Love. PROEM TO Mr. WALLER . THE Taper shining with diminisht Rays , While Noon-day Sun swallows its feeble Blaze ; Not valu'd as consider'd for its Light , But what it shadows to th' internal Sight ; May be my Emblem , who the most obscure , Of all who follow you their Cynosure , Within your Province , and at your Command , As a dim Taper on the Altar stand : Tho small 's my Portion of Poetick Fire , I shew to others how they should aspire : Love lights my Lamp , and gives it all its Flame , 'T is Love I breath , and seek , Love I proclaim : To think t' enlighten you when I have done , Would be to light a Candle to the Sun ; If your Affections I can but excite , I have my end , nor can you miss Delight . CHrist his Disciples with effect to move , To draw in the soft Yoak of Mutual Love ; Did to his Precept and Example join The happy Fruit , By this 't is known ye 're mine , To love 't is certain a Command requires , The Ardor of its self quickly expires : As much it does a great Example need , Its glim'ring Light in others few will heed : Nor less Incitement wants the sluggish Mind , To climb to the Ascent of Love enjoyn'd . Let 's see the charming nature of this Love , Which does the Character of Christians prove , What in its self , to what our Hearts 't would move . This his Command our Saviour marks for new , Not that its first Foundations there we view ; But as a Sanction it from him obtains , And in each Age from him new Vigor gains : Men's Tempers and their Manners this require . Tho Love is the most natural Desire , Mixt with our Beings , and refreshing found In all the Exigencies Life surround , The gratefull'st Passion , and most friendly Pow'r , The Minds serene , the Bodies verdant Flow'r , The Spirits poize , the Harmony o th' whole ; And when its opposite , takes the controul , Disturbance , Torment , and Decay succeed : Tho mutual Aid common occasions need , And a Foundation of firm Union lay ; Whence for united Hearts and Souls we pray ; To this our publick Vows and Reason tend , Nature to this seems with full course to bend ; Yet Sin , and Satan , Nature's dangerous Foes , With such Impediments its way oppose , That rare 's the Love which long continues fair , Time , and slight Accidents its force impair , Wear off the Paint , and drive the Smoak to Air. Self-Flatt'ry keeps to narrow Banks , confin'd , What to enrich the neigh'bring Plain's design'd ; The Mind's Propensions , sweetning in a Stream , Stagnate within , and send forth noxious steam . How oft on Love does gnawing Envy prey , Whose Arbitrary Laws while Men obey , Against their dear Self-Love they blindly act , And wast those Bowels , which they thus contract ! How oft does he whom Benefits have bound , Think the meer owning them would Honour wound ! How oft Suspicion breeds ill-natur'd Leav'n ! How oft an Injury receiv'd or giv'n ! To hurt one whom you hate , 's thought less unjust , Than one who in your Friendship places trust : And thence , to colour 'ore the wrong you do , Your injur'd Friend is held for constant Foe . But only vulgar Dreggs thus meanly fail , These Blemishes can't o're great Souls prevail : Yet these , alas ! incur too often blame , For crim'nal stifling Lov 's enobling Flame . Diff'rence of Manners makes divided Minds , Of Ierom and Ruffinus this one finds : Opin'ions disagreeing do the same . These tarnish Cyprian's and Stephen's Fame : Study of Parties , fatal oft to Love , 'Gainst Chrysostom did Epiphanius move . A Point of Ceremony unexprest To Greg'ry , drove his Basil from his Breast . Ev'n Paul and Barn'bas striving for controul , Parted in Body ; not to say , in Soul. Great Names , ye see , I on this Head produce , Specious Apologies for Love's abuse , Yet ought not they to serve for an Excuse : Tho they 're great Instances that Love is frail ; Yet ought our Saviour's Precept to prevail : Who from his Brother does his Love withdraw , In that 's a Traytor to the Christian Law. The Lord commands , and wilt thou , Wretch ! dispute ? Wilt thou resist Command so absolute ? Command , good Lord ! effectually command , And grant I be not able to withstand . Atthy Command from the rude formless heap , Beauty and pleasing Order forth did leap ; From Void came Solids , and from Nothing All , The Winds and raging Seas obey thy call . Thou dost the madness of the People quell ; So tame my Heart ! that there sweet Love may dwell : With his Example Christ this Precept binds , To imitate his Love would raise our Minds . Under the Jewish Institutes , we see Provision made for Love's Sincerity ; Yet much the Duty wanted of its weight , When Self-Love only was to set the rate ; Who makes in loving others this his bound , To come far short of Duty will be found : Themselves indeed all Men sincerely love , Blind and imprudent , yet that Love does prove ; Fondly indulging unrestrain'd Desires , Men think they answer what that Law requires , Flatter themselves , and blow up Nature's Fires ; And this they think is justice to their Friend , When nothing's more perfidious in the end : Nothing more dangerously insinuates Vice , To which that mask of Friendship does entice . Sin in Self-Love thus propagates the Sin ; Hence was a nobler Rule justly brought in . How to love others , ask not Flesh and Blood , Too often leading you from what is good ; But let Christ's Love to you , your Pattern be , Contemplate that for Manner , and Degree : Let your Affections in that order lye , By that the Errors mend , Defects supply . See what Christ's Love to us does recommend , The Choice he made , the Measure , and the End. Choice did I say ? 't was rather without Choice ; In that both High and Low , All , may rejoice . Tho weak and indigent , ungrateful too , He lov'd , nor doubt my Soul ! but he lov'd you . Ye love , O Men , but with a Love so nice , Unjust , or cunning , that your Love 's a Vice. Ye seek the Great , the Rich , the apt to lend , The chearful , courteous , and facetious Friend : On these the Offices of Love ye spend . Advantages ye with each other shift , And that is made a Trade which should be Gift ; Pleasure or Profit at the bottom lye , Without that Sauce your Appetites soon dye . Can this a Vertue be , or Duty thought , Or th' imitation of what Christ has taught ? Th'innate Propensions while they thus do flow , Meer Artifice , and Baits for Pleasure grow . Under Christ's Banner they that would be found , Him always for their Pattern must propound . He lov'd the poor , and destitute of Aid , Their want the only Obligation laid . Those who nor sought , nor merited , he lov'd , The motive to their Cure th●ir Sickness prov'd . Those who resisted the blest Aid he brought , Tho strugling , in his saving Arms he caught . No other Charms , or Shadows of Delight , Did his warm Love to Human Race invite . This , Christian ! should thy sole inducement be , That Love 's thy Duty , as thy Head lov'd thee ; This Reason will to all Mankind extend : But if for grounds you cautiously suspend , For causes which Reason and Fancy weigh ; Faction to Sides , Lightness to new will sway : And thus for Love you take its meer disguise , You labour for the Shadow of a Prize . Our Lord lov'd with an equal , constant Mind , No Age shall see his Love from his disjoin'd : But what is yours which wavers with the wind ? Whom now into your greedy Arms you take , The subject of your Raill'ry soon you make : One for a Friend you out of Conscience chuse , This in regard to Glory you refuse : You envy this Man's good , this Man's consult , Here at a loss you grieve , there you insult : To one you give , another's Fame you take ; That Man you free , a Snare for others make . What means this double Dealing , double Heart ? As much as may be Sir ! act the same part . Be but one Man , either be wholly wise , Or wholly Wisdom's sacred Lore despise , ( If as delightful 't is to play the Fool , As glorious to improve in Wisdom's School ; ) If you 'd have praise , act always by one Rule . St. Peter , when he would an Abstract show O' th' Life of Love incarnate , while below , Says his whole business lay in doing good ; The bound , the end of Love's thus understood . They 've felt no spark of this Celestial Fire , Who in their Love but gratify desire : Who trafficks with Affections , sells good turns , Little the end of Sacred Love discerns . That doing good its sole reward obtains : And this endears to us our Saviour's pains ; Who gave himself to his , of his free Grace , No Caution , no Reserve with him had place . He lov'd through Midnight watchings , wasting Toil , Loss of Life's Comforts , and ev'n Life's despoil . To thee , O Christian , Death , Life , Damage , Gain , Leasure , Turmoils , Disgrace , Fame , Quiet , Pain , Are all to be past by without regard , When you 're from doing good by either barr'd . Does this seem difficult ? 'T will less appear , If you consider what 's the Fruit 't will bear : Than Fame more fair , than Peace more void of Strife , Than Gain more gainful , Life has less of Life . And with this Thought support your sinking Mind , That he 'll in 's Trade sufficient profit find , Who has for Temporal Loss Eternal Goods consign'd . But what in Love does so much pains require ? Does the ignoble part draw forth desire ? That which our Eyes discern , and Fingers feel ? Must this be cultivated with such Zeal ? This can't deserve all that is squandred thus , The Soul , 't is evident , is all of us . These Offices he wofully mispends , Who ought beyond the Soul in Love intends : Does it in meeting , talking , laughing , lye ? This they may do who ne'r its force did try . Is 't the same Studies , Counsels , Joys t' approve ? Ill Men do this , yet who can say they love ? Is 't liberally to give of Fortun 's store ? Their Love 's as rich who beg from door to door . What 's all Men's duty they at home may view , Souls are Love's Subjects , and its Objects too . To guide the Deiform immortal Souls , Whose sinful Wandrings Satan here controuls ; This is a work which truly Love becomes , The best Account of our entrusted Sums . Christ who twice sent the Crowd well fed away , With Bread of Life feasted their Souls each day ; Shewing by an Example disesteem'd , That those should the least benefits be deem'd , Which turn to Fat , to Wealth , or pompous Train , Vain in themselves , in their Effects as vain . Those are the noblest instances of Love , Which cure Affections , & Men's minds improve . They cannot love , I 'le own , who'r giv'n to spare , For 't is attended with the Body's care : Nor can the Wicked , who neglect the Mind : Their cost on Bodies they will useless find ; The Gift is lost , which ha'nt good counsel join'd . True Love and Probity are always Twins , Neither alone encreases , or begins : Leave loving , and your Probity is gone ; Leave Probity , and what is Love alone ? In proper Offices how can it shoot , Which thus lies wither'd at the very Root ? The bad t' each other Pleasures may endear , Chearful and entertaining they appear ; But soon the Sky is clouded , now so clear . In Love ill-founded , and maintain'd with Sin , Soon Weariness , and then Contempt begin ; True Love 's more permanent , a Ray Divine , Shot down from Heav'n , moves thither , there shall shine : Thither delights to lead the happy Friend , Afraid of all things that to ill may tend : Each Day improves the Solace of this Love , An Incoation of the State Above . O happy end of Love , worthy our pains ! When thus Inhabitants for Heav'n it gains : But Art is needful here as well as Will , If we 'd the Laws of Christian Love fulfil . When Christ to draw Men to this Love did seek , Come learn of me he says , for I am meek . Meekness the gentlest Art , sweetest of Charms , All Pow'r t' oppose insensibly disarms . Ill Vessels make most gen'rous Wines decay , And good turns lose their value by their way ; The manner of the doing gives the taste , A Gift giv'n sourly , but runs out to waste : Who without Temper the best Counsel give , But irritate those they 'd from ill retrieve . If Pride or Sharpness thus the Office blend , Who can expect to see a better end ? If therefore well to act what 's good you heed , And would have the best Offices succeed ; Love mildly , nor believe Love can reside In Hearts stretcht-out with Anger , or with Pride . Oh! but you 'l say , Religion lyes at stake . Their Faith with God , & then with Men they break ; Pity'ing the Men , you prosecute their Sin , And this does from a Christian Zeal begin , With this pretence a Liberty you 'd find , For th' ebullitions of a bitter Mind : Your secret whisperings , and clam'rous noise , Produce effects at which your Foes rejoice . Is this your Zeal ? did Christ in this precede , Who as thro Chrystal all Men's Hearts did read ? Did he expose the Sins within his view ? To open Railers he did pity shew ; Past by their Scoffs who would not him receive , The lapses too of them that did believe , Tho they his Spir't did ev'ry moment grieve : To his Betrayer Lenity did shew , Which might all Malice less than his subdue . How mildly he reprov'd ! pardon'd how soon ! The quick and winning manner crown'd the Boon . He ne're Indulgence gave to the least Lust , Yet was a Judg as Merciful as Just : With ill , tho not permitted , yet did bear , Waiting a time when they Love's call might hear : Well knowing human Pravity , like Fire Conceal'd , will often of it self expire : But when expos'd to Air , and Wind , it lay , The rising Flame devour'd all in'ts way . Thus in faint Shadows I Christ's Love describe : If you 'l be his Disciples him transcribe . What! Christ's Disciples ! 't is a Name so great , With Glory the Relation so repleat ; Titles to Crowns , and all that glitters here , Compar'd with this , fall far below your care . Ambition here is honest , worthy praise ; Nothing but Love can to this Honour raise : When at the Heart Love takes a quickning Root , Discipleship will in fair Branches shoot : The Man in ev'ry Vertue will improve , Distinguish'd by Protection from Above : And Love , indeed , is of a wond'rous force , To carry on the Soul in Vertues course . Call'd by th'Apostle , who its Nature saw , Perfections Bond , Falfiller of the Law : It of a sudden mounts us to the Skies , And without Prophets , Miracles supplies . This like Elisha's Salt tinging the Springs , A Sovereign sweetness to the Fountain brings : Rivers of Pleasures thence come streaming out , Grateful to Men , refreshing all about . About soft Love how many Graces dance ! How patiently does it Requests advance ! With how great Fortitude bears each Event ! How liberally both spends it ! and is spent ! How piously , while it does God regard , It acts what human Reas'nings reckon hard ! Routs , Riots , Quarrels , causes of Offence , To be in Manners stiff , perverse in Sense , In Love's unnatural , as for flame to fall , Or Sun-Beams mix with Filth from th' Earthly Ball. This in a word the Christian's form is known , By this distinction to the World they 're shown ; From this the nature Christ requires they take ; This makes them , what nothing but this can make . Knowledg may want of Duty , Zeal be blind , And warmest Hope a disappointment find : Not so with Love ; it knows , performs , obtains , And what 's equivalent to all , it gains , The bless'd assurance o' th' Almighty's Smiles , Earnest of future Pay , Reward of present Toils . How great God's sacred Family appear'd ! How strong its Constitution ! How rever'd ! To th' Envy of its Foes , and Satan's shame , When Heathens did their fervent Love proclaim ! Without the force of Arms , flourish of Arts , Or sly Contrivances , they conquer'd Hearts . Religion guarded with the Heavenly Aid , And arm'd with Love , vast Acquisitions made . But when thro Wealth , and Pride , Faith grew exil'd , To see the Christians arm the Ethnicks smil'd . All things from that time Retrograde became , The Date of Antichrist we this may name . Nor better Chances should those Servants meet , Whose Master does in vain command , intreat : While they prefer their slavish vain Desires , Before the gen'rous Freedom he requires : Then did the Church of Ephesus decline ; That Church which in full Lustre once did shine , When its first Love maintain'd less vigorous heat , That Sign St. Iohn markt of the Spi'rit's Retreat , This may to others om'nous Aspect bear , T' avert the Omen well deserves their care . Methinks I hear one whisper , Look at home , Guard well the Ark , the Philistins are come . If so it is , How think you to preserve Religion , and the Altars where you serve ? Let 's worship God with undivided Hearts , And love each other , free from soothing Arts ; No other Counsel , Skill , or Troops we need , Love unarray'd did always best succeed . This private Men , and Churches know , for true : Thus with God's Aid we shall our Foes subdue , ( If by soft Methods we can't win them all ) Or with like Glory triumph , tho we fall . Thou , Lord most merciful ! whose pity'ing Eye , Sees with what Needs and Frailties prest we lye ! Prepare our Hearts to fear with Filial Awe , And duely mourn the Breaches of thy Law ; Give us at last , what thou dost first command , To love , that in thy Love we ever blest may stand OF Divine Love. Mr. WALLER . THE Grecian Muse has all their Gods surviv'd , Nor Iove at us , nor Phoebus is arriv'd , Frail Deities , which first the Poets made , And then invok'd , to give their Fancies aid ! Yet if they still divert us with their Rage , What may be hop'd for in a better Age ? When not from Helicon's imagin'd Spring , But Sacred Writ , we borrow what we sing . Paraphr . I. The Grecian Gods are known meer Fables all , The Poets who invok'd their Aid , And seem'd from thence to fetch that Fire , Which warm'd their Verse , or mov'd their Lyre , Themselves those Deities had made ; And did before their own Creation fall . Out of their Brains those Gods did spring , What e're of Pallas out of Iove's they sing : Tho these their Figments now are gon , And all their Altars trampl'd on ; Yet still they please us with their lofty Vein , There 's something in their Verse which ever shall remain . If fancy'd Gods such Heats could raise , As ev'n to us a warmth convey ; With what exalted Numbers should we praise The Father of Eternal Life and Day ! How great Advantages have we to rise ! Who have the Image of the Heav'nly Mind In Sacred Writ to us consign'd , Where th' length , and breadth , and depth of Love Divine , surprize ! Mr. Waller . This with the Fabrick of the World begun , Elder than Light , and shall out-last the Sun : Before this Oracle , like Dagon , all The false Pretenders , Delphos , Hammon , fall ; Long since despis'd , and silent ; they afford Honour and Triumph to th' Eternal Word . Paraphr . II. As soon as Natures outward Vest was made , Before it was embroider'd o're with Light , A large Foundation for my Verse was laid : The Beams of Goodness then express'd , Made ev'n the Morning Stars more bless'd , And fill'd that glittring Host with new delight . The Sons of God in Consort sang , And Anthems through the Empyrean rang . But when the Lamp of Heav'n expires , And the account of Time is gon , Matter of Praise to God shall still run on , And Man shall join with the immortal Quires . The Div'l , in Delphick Oracles admir'd , While with Events their doubtful Sense comply'd , At God's bright Word imbody'd , soon retir'd , Forc'd in his own Abyss his Head to hide : Yet thither did its Influence descend , And in new Fetters bound the gnashing Fiend . The Progress of that Soul of Love , With all its Triumphs over Death and Hell , We have recorded from Above , In Transcripts which the Sybills Leaves excel . Before these Oracles the thundring Baal , And all the Heathen Gods do fall ; For here the Spirit of our God does dwell : Th' eternal Word , which spake the Universe , Affords the hallow'd Theam of my aspiring Verse . Mr. Waller . As late Philosophy our Globe has grac'd , And rowling Earth among the Planets plac'd : So has this Book Intitled us to Heav'n , And Rules to guide us to that Mansion given ; Tells the Conditions how our Peace was made , And is our Pledg for the great Author's Aid . His Power in Natures ampler Book we find : But the less Volume do's express his Mind . Paraph. III. Some late Philosophers raise Earth to Heav'n , While it they 'mongst the wandring Planets place : But Heav'n to Earth extended is by Grace , Not only in a fair description giv'n , For Faith to feast upon ( Such as our finite Sense can bear ) Of the unbounded Pleasures there , Which of it self is some Fruition : But th' emanations of the Light Divine , Which in the Gospel shine , Make out our Title to that bliss , Where God himself circled with Glory is . Invite and Lead us to the promis'd Land , And are an earnest Penny giv'n in Hand , Of that most gracious Aid , By which God loves to perfect what he made : For Humane Breast he ne're would fire , With thoughts of Immortality , But with design to crown desire , Which he himself had rais'd so high . The Works of the Almighty's Hand , In Nature's massy Book recorded stand : But that great Mind , Which those stupendious Works design'd , In the less Volume is express'd ; The Footsteps of our God are there confess'd ; Where Mercy ruling over all his Works we find . Mr. Waller . This Light unknown , bold Epicurus taught That his bless'd Gods vouchsafe us not a thought , But , unconcern'd , let all below them slide , As Fortune do's , or Human Wisdom guide . Religion thus remov'd , the Sacred Yoak , And Band of all Society is broke . What use of Oaths , of Promise , or of Test , When Men regard no God but Interest ? What endless Wars would jealous Nations tear , If none Above did Witness what they swear ? Sad Fate of Unbelievers , ( and yet just ; ) Among themselves to find so little trust ! Were Scripture silent , Nature would proclaim , Without a God , our Falshood and our Shame . To know our Thoughts the Object of his Eyes , Is the first step to'ards being good , or wise . For tho with Judgment we on things reflect , Our Will determines , not our Intellect . Slaves to their Passion , Reason Men employ Only to compass what they would enjoy . His Fear , to guard us from our Selves , we need ; And Sacred Writ our Reason do's exceed . Paraph. IV. When Man came warm from his Creator's Hand , Before he yeilded to his tempting Wife , And Clouds had dampt the Breath of Life , How fair an Emblem of his Maker did he stand ! Not Aaron's Breast-plate , nor yet Moses's Face , When from the Holy Hill He brought the Transcript of the Laws Divine , Did with such Glory shine , As Man before he fell from Grace , When him , his always present God , did fill . The Laws which Moses brought Into his very Frame were wrought , His Duty was Divinely taught : Tho then his Heart no Table were of Stone , It might have kept till now the bright Inscription : But sensual Love did more with Man prevail , Than all the Powers of Hell could do . Did not the Woman woo , The lively Stamp of Heav'n sure could not fail . Against all other Ills Man might provide ; Who could suspect a Dart from his own Side ? Or a foul Asmodeus with a Bride ? From his own Rib , dress'd by an Hand Divine , So very beautiful , so wondrous fine , How could he Ruine fear ? But such Divinity below , Man from his unseen God did bear , Who Ignorance of his Duty chose , for what he there did know . V. God's Spirit thence became estrang'd , The kind Familiar with Regret withdrew , Mans Heart & Countenance were so much chang'd , That his own handy work God hardly knew : Yet still the Beams of Light Divine God did not to his Heav'n confine ; Where e're the Holy Patriarchs went Its welcome Warmth was lent . That which to Israel's chosen Race A Pillar was of Fire , Leading them o're the Scorching Plain ; Until the Son of God was slain , Far from their Tents did ne're retire ; But still in various ways God shew'd his stinted Grace ; But when the stubborn Iews Did the last proffer of that Grace refuse , Whereby he did them his peculiar People chuse ; Eternal Love broke from its narrow bound , And visited the chearful World around ; It Lighted up in every Breast That Candle of the Lord , Reason , which soon those Truths confess'd , Contain'd in the Divine Record , Which did the vain Disputers of the World confound . VI. Had Epicurus once beheld So much of God below , As Holy Writ do's show ; It had his dang'rous Errors quell'd : He could not then have thought that Chance , Had made the World thrô Atomes lucky dance : And that th' Eternal Pow'r had left to Fate , What he did neither order nor create . Had this Philosophy prevail'd , Mankind e're this had fail'd , Or turn'd to Brutes , had on each other prey'd : In vain were any Compacts made , When there were nought but human Pow'r to awe ; Each would his Neighbour's Right invade , When Art or Force could free him from the Law. Religion is the Bond of Peace ; The want of that dissolv's Societies . An humble Love , and awful Dread , Of th' unseen Pow'r , secures us here . While 't is a Judgment , and the Consequence , Upon Mens Unbelief , ( Which they deserve , and whence they justly fear ) What e're they have lies without Fence ; And if it fail , their Hopes have no relief : But what hereafter must the faithless Wretches bear . VII . Take but the thoughts of Heav'n away , And Earth would turn to an Akeldama . Yet while Men hurry'd on to Sin , Something would whisper them within , And bid them mind a sacred Guest ; Which sigh's and griev's to turn a Slave , Where Nature it an Empire gave , And till it conquers Hyle cannot rest . The first assistance which it has to rise , In the Belief of th' Godhead lies . Philosophy a God may find , Before it can discern the Ill Of all things that oppose his Will ; Or read the Lines he wrote upon the Mind . Self-Love arising from our Flesh and Blood , Darken's the Characters of good . When present Pleasure courts the easy Sense , 'T is hard to think it sinful to comply : But in the thought of God a Charm do's lye ; The Contemplation of his Purity , Affords a strong Defence . Our Souls we thence as by a Mirror dress ; And this do's many'a wand'ring Thought repress . Yet after all uncertain is th' Effect , Since Will determines , not the Intellect . And Men , enslav'd to Passion 's sway , Use Reason but to progg for Appetite ; And carry'd on with warm Delight , Make the poor Captive Soveraign obey : Till Scripture working on our Passions too , Prevailing on our Hope or Fear ( Those Tyrants which so domineer ) Laying the Misery and Bliss in view , As we the broad or narrow Path pursue ; Charm's us into an happy State , To which for all Mankind it opens wide the Gate . Mr. Waller . For tho Heaven shows the Glory of the Lord , Yet something shines more glorious in his Word : His Mercy this , ( which all his Works excells , ) His tender Kindness and Compassion tells : While we inform'd by that Celestial Book , Into the Bowels of our Maker look ; Love there reveal'd , which never shall have End , Nor had Beginning , shall our Song commend ; Describe it self , and warm us with that Flame , Which first from Heav'n , to make us happy , came . Paraph. VIII . God's Glory , Heav'n , that does his Love declare ; Love , which is God , does open lye , Exhibited to Mortal Eye , Within th' instructing Pages there . That Attribute which was our God's Delight , Before he made the Sons of Light , While the Immense , Three One , Did entertain Himself alone , And shall for ever with him stay , When there 's no Change of Night and Day : That Essence of the Deity , Which in a Living Flame , From Heaven to bless us came , Shall be the Subject of my Poetry ; That shall it self describe , warming my Verse & Me. Mr. Waller . The fear of Hell , or aiming to be bless't , Savour's too much of private Interest . This mov'd not Moses , nor the Zealous Paul , Who for their Friends abandon'd Soul and all . A greater yet , from Heav'n to Earth descends , To save , and make his Enemies his Friends . What Line of Praise can fathom such a Love , Which reach'd the lowest Bottom from Above ? Paraph. IX . They 're narrow Souls who seek their private ends , Without regard to Relatives , or Friends . Not so did Moses , and the Zealous Paul , Who of th' Extent of human Kindness stand , Examples to us all . Meek Moses was content to see the Land , To'ards which his murmuring Friends he led , And then laid down his Aged Head , Singing his Requiem ; for his Work was done , As soon as Israel's Rest begun . But , as'tis thought , this humble Soul Much farther yet did reach , While he by Love was carryed on ; And tho by Faith he knew Of an Immortal Roll , Where he stood Enter'd with the chosen few , Ordain'd to be transported o're , From off this horrid Shore , 'Gainst which so many Tempests roar , Unto a Land of endless Life and Bliss ; Yet trembling on the naked Beach , Under a careless Preterition , Contented was to lie , Left destitute of more than common Aid , To struggle for that blest Eternity , Which the Decree of Heav'n to him had certain made . X. St. Paul a Man of warmer Temper was : Yet this degree of Love he could not pass : Finding his Brethren shut without the Pail , Depriv'd of that peculiar Grace , Which ne're th' inclos'd within the Church can fail ; In pious Rant he wisht with them to change his Place . But how much greater was that Love , Which the Eternal Word did move , Quitting the full Possession Of all the Glories of his Father's Throne , To take our Flesh , and suffer Pain , That he his Enemies might gain , And all their Obstacles to Bliss remove ? Who can his Thoughts to height sufficient raise ? Or what Expressions can he find , To sute th' Ideas floting in his Mind , When he this unexampl'd Act of Love would praise ? Mr. Waller . The Royal Prophet , that extended Grace From Heav'n to Earth , measur'd but half that space ; The Law was Regnant , and confin'd his Thought ; Hell was not Conquer'd when that Poet wrote : Heav'n was scarce heard of until he came down , To make the Region where Love triumphs , known . Paraph. XI . The antient Prophets , that Seraphick Tribe , Who did Divine Benignity describe , While the Dominion of the Law did last , And Clouds the Sun of Righteousness o're cast ; Had more contracted Theams , To influence their Holy Dreams : Through Heav'n and Earth God's Grace it self had shown ; But Heil its Power had never known , And Heav'n it self was darkly drawn , Till the bright Day did dawn , Which shew'd on Earth God's only Son ; He a free Prospect of that Region brought , Where Light , and Joy , and Love , do far exceed all Thought . Mr. Waller . That early Love of Creatures yet unmade , To frame the World th' Almighty did perswade . For Love it was that first created Light , Mov'd on the Waters , chac'd away the Night From the rude Chaos , and bestow'd new Grace On things disposed to their proper Place : Some to Rest here , and some to shine Above , Earth , Sea , and Heav'n were all th' Effects of Love. And Love would be return'd , but there was none That to themselves or others yet were known . The World a Pallace was , without a Guest , Till one appears that must excel the rest : One like the Author , whose capacious Mind Might by the glorious Work , the Maker find : Might measure Heav'n , and give each Star a Name , With Art and Courage the rough Ocean tame . Over the Globe with swelling Sails might go : And that 't is round by his Experience know . Make strongest Beasts obedient to his Will , And serve his Use the fertil Earth to Till . When by his Word God had accomplish'd all , Man to create he did a Council call : Employ'd his Hand to give the Dust he took A Graceful Figure and Majestick Look . With his own Breath convey'd into his Breast , Life , and a Soul , fit to command the rest : Worthy alone to celebrate his Name , For such a Gift , and tell from whence it came , Birds sing his Praises in a wilder Note , But not with lasting Numbers , and with Thought , Mans great Prerogative — Paraph. XII . Love in the Bosom of the Godhead lay , Before the Creatures into Being rose : Through this to frame the World he chose ; He spake , and passive Matter did obey . That Spirit which did on the Waters move , And with its brooding Wings hatcht Vital Heat , Which spreading o're the formless Deep , Did the Worlds outward Lines compleat ; Was nothing else but mighty Love , Whence charming Symmetry did smiling leap , And through the gloomy heap , Diffus'd a grateful Light , That Banisht Chaos with its horrid Night When the Proportions finisht were , Love then the Features and the Graces drew , About the rising World it flew , Distinguisht and adorn'd , the Waters , Earth , and Air. A Stately Pallace it did build , And furnisht to amazement every Room ; Curious Plantations round about it made , With Grassy Walks , which ever Greens did shade ; And Fruit-Trees interspersed were , Enricht with Fruit , or gay with Bloom , Each Herb , and Plant , and Flow'r was there ; With many an Avi'ary 't was fill'd , And Entertainments for the Eye , Of all the Beasts that move , or Birds that fly , And Creeping things in vast variety , As if to Court some great Inhabitant , were laid . XIII . This glorious Scene , with more than Verse can sing , Being prepar'd by the Eternal King ; Man newly cast i' th' Heav'nly Mold , From off his flowry Bed do's rise , He casts about his wondring Eyes , And do's with springing Joy behold Th' unsully'd Beauties on Earth's Bosom spread : But as to Heav'n h●●is'd his Head , And saw that Orb of Light , Which shot it self into his sight ; Unpractis'd Reason rose above that Sphear : Then whereso'ere he look'd he found The presence of a God appear , Who from his Holy Seat touch'd Adah's Heart , And did Devotion 's warmth impart , As Phoebus's Beams from Heav'n do strike the Ground . What 's for Man's Use or his Diversion here , From God's meer Word and careless Fiat came : But Man , his Image , his own Hand did frame , By the Idea he is Counsel wrought ; Th' Effect of calm Debate , and deepest Thought : He fill'd his working Breast With an Etherial Flame , And with the Breath of Life he had himself impress't . XIV . Him his Vicegerent o're the World did make : And Marks of Empire in his Face , And Countenance erect did place , Which also Monitors might prove , To mind him of his Debt to praise that Love , From whence he did , what e're he is , partake , Next to the Angels , Man alone Is fit to aim at Praises due To that bless't Pow'r , who from his Starry Throne , Surveys , and blesses , what through him we doe . The Birds do warble out his Praise In pretty tuneful Notes ; They to his Glory strain their Throats , And ev'n in us an Emulation raise . Yet here 't is Man alone can Tribute bring , Of lasting Numbers , and of weighty Thought , Unto the Altars of the Heav'nly King , Who will no Service pay but what sound Reason brought . Angels which struggle not with Flesh and Blood , To whom it is their Nature to be good , Can be but what they are ; While Man with Reason rises by Degrees , Feels with his Love his Happiness increase , And still comes nigher Heav'n till he at last be there . XV. Man , in his better part , Little inferiour to the Pow'rs Above , In full Fruition of Eternal Love ; Upon the Wings of Thought aspires , To warm himself with the bright Heav'nly Fires : And with a wond'rous Art Derives from thence Some knowledg of their secret Influence ; By Numbers sacred Magick views , The Heights and Distances which each obtain ; And the Directions learns to use , Of Laeda's Sons , and Charles his Wain , On the unbeaten Paths of the tempestu'ous Main . XVI . But when the Lamps of Heav'n enclos'd Within the Sable Curtains of the Night , Afford no friendly Light , But leave him to wide Seas expos'd ; Thrô Nat'ral Magick , then succeeding to Divine , The trembling Needle proves a steddy Guide ; As that does to its Pole incline , He finds where 's shatter'd Ship does ride . Thus Love , the Loadstone of alluring Love , Touching the tender Heart , Glides with a gentle trembling thro each part ; And a safe Guide to Happiness does prove : Where this Magnetick Force prevails , There needs no Cynosure , The Passage to secure , As thrô Life's troubled Seas one sails : Yet no true Harbour can be found , Where all the Labours of the wand'ring Soul , Can with Success be crown'd , Until it ever rest fixt to its radiant Pole. Mr. Waller . — But above all His Grace abounds in his new Favorites fall . If he creates , it is a World he makes : If he be angry , the Creation shakes . From his just Wrath our guilty Parents fled : He curs'd the Earth , but bruis'd the Serpent's Head. Amidst the Storm his Bounty did exceed , In the rich Promise of the Virgin 's Seed . Paraph. XVII . That Love which takes the whole Creation in , Strange Paradox ! chiefly abounds In the new Fav'rites shameful sin , When Satan first began his Rounds . Without a Fall Man ne're to Heav'n could rise : 'T is from the Brink of Hell we reach the Skyes . Had Man in Paradise continued still , He never had unhappy been ; His Mind had always been serene . Not taken up with care to live , Or any Accident to make him grieve : Yet this would not have given the Soul its fill . That which brought Love to dwell on Earth , And from a Virgin have its glorious Birth , Did justly raise our Hopes to such Degree , That we may say , Bliss came from Miserie . The Serpent's Poyson brought the Sp'rit of Life : Nor could we ever have receiv'd a Crown , Unless the fatal Strife . Had brought the Son of God , to Raise us when w'were down . Mr. Waller . Tho Justice Death , as Satisfaction craves , Love finds a Way to pluck us from our Graves ; Not willing Terror should his Image move : He gives a Pattern of Eternal Love. His Son descends to Treat a Peace with those , Which were , and must have ever been his Foes . Poor he became , and left his Glorious Seat , To make us Humble , and to make us Great . His Business here , was Happiness to give , To those whose Malice would not let him live . Paraph. XVIII . God's Image planted in the Human Breast , Sin had defac'd , and Misery oppress 't ; Nor could they look for less to come , Than an Eternity of Woes , Who of themselves were thus become , To the Almighty Pow'r perpetual Foes ; Yet for their sake the Darling Son , Who in his Bosom equal lay ; Through Love prevailing on his Choice , was won , Here to possess an House of Clay ; And bear all Incidents to Mortal State. To Pescue us from our deserved Fare . Man's Sin did interrupt his Bliss ; As by Earth's Vapours Heav'n beclouded is . Nor could the Throne of Glory please , With all the Happiness Above , Whilst us in Sin he weltring sees , An Object which might well Divine Compassion move ! Himself he humbled , to exalt Those who lay low through their own Fault , When first they did from Heav'n , and Him , revolt . His only Bus'ness , while he sojourn'd here , Was Happiness to give To those , who would not let him live , Nor the Reproach of his unspotted Life could bear . Mr. Waller . Legions of Angels which he might have us'd , For us resolv'd to perish , he refus'd : While they stood ready to prevent his loss , Love took him up and nail'd him to the Cross. Immortal Love which in his Bowels raign'd ! That we might be by such a Love constrain'd To make Return of Love. Upon this Pole Our Duty do's , and our Religion rowl . To Love is to believe , to hope , to know : 'T is an Essay , a Taste , of Heav'n below . Paraph. XIX . In vain had all the Pow'rs of Earth , and Hell , Against his Life conspir'd , Had he the Ministry requir'd Of the bright Troop , made to Attend his Will : He suffered Men his Blood to spill ; And for their Sins a willing Sacrifice he fell . When from this Vale of Miseries , He might have gone directly to the Skyes , And th' utmost Regions of Eternal Day ; Love nail'd him to the Cross , & stop't him by the way . Shall not such Love as this constrain , To make Return of Love again ? Was Love for Love ever a Pain ? And shall our Saviour Love and dye for us , in vain ? Hard-hearted Man , who when his Duty lies In ans'ering Nature's most delightful Tyes ; Cannot be soft enough to Love , and to be wise ! Love is the whole of Man ; 'T is Faith , 't is Hope , 't is Knowledg too ; 'T is an Essay of Heav'n below : Who Loves most warmly is the truest Christian. Mr. Waller . He to proud Potentates would not be known : Of those that lov'd him he was hid from none . Till Love appear , we live in anxious Doubt ; But Smoak will vanish when that Flame breaks out . This is the Fire that would consume our Dross : Refine , and make us richer by the Loss . XX. The Great Men's Favour , or Applause , Christ sought not , but contemn'd their Noise : Did for Disciples take Men of low Fortunes , but exalted Minds ( Where Love the heartiest welcome finds : ) Their Love in them the Object of his Love did make . Proud Potentates , with all their Train , Did unsuccessfully pursue , While Curiosity , or Hate Did their Enquiries animate ; Which better than themselves he knew : But th' humble Lover never sought in vain . Love gives assurance to the pious Mind , And do's the Clouds of Doubts dispel From the glad Heart , which was a Smoaky Cell . Our Dross is by this Fire refin'd ; And how much more of that we lose , The well-try'd Soul the richer grow's : How great 's the Price when nought but Love is left behind ! Mr. Waller . Could we forbear Dispute , and practise Love , We should agree as Angels do Above . Where Love presides , not Vice alone do's find No Entrance there , but Vertues stay behind ; Both Faith , and Hope , and all the meaner Train Of Moral Vertues , at the Door remain : Love only Enters as a Native there , For Born in Heav'n , it do's but sojourn here . Paraph. XXI . How blessed were our Earthly State ! How like to Angels should we be ! If we could lay aside Debate , And in Celestial Love agree ! Love which do's ev'n in Heav'n preside , And there flow's in with Glory's constant Tide ! From whence not Vice alone must fly , But all the meaner Train Of Vertues must behind remain : Both Faith and Hope must dye , While Love for ever lives in Extasy . It do's but wander here from home , Not having where to rest its Head , ' Ere since the Son of God was dead , When fair Astraea truly fled ; A Native 't is of Heav'n , & mourns till there it come . Mr. Waller . He that alone , would wise and mighty be , Commands that others Love as well as he : Love as he lov'd : How can we soar so high ? He can add Wings when he commands to fly . Nor should we be with this Command dismay'd ; He that Example gives , will give his Aid . For he took Flesh , that where his Precepts fail , His Practice as a Pattern may prevail . His Love at once , and Dread , instructs our Thought ; A● Man he suffered , and as God he taught . Will for the Deed he takes ; we may with ease , Obedient be : For if we Love we please . Weak tho we are , to Love is no hard task , And Love for Love is all that Heav'n do's ask . Paraph. XXII . Our God bears no Competitour , In Wisdom , or in Pow'r ; But is so kind to make our Duty lie , In rivalling that Love , Which do's from him its Fountain flow ; Whose Streams in us he will improve , Till we with him one Ocean grow . Perfection he would have in Love , And tho our Mortal Pow'rs can't mount so high , To reach the Nature of the Deity ; Yet he sufficient Strength inspires , Out of our Selves enabling us to move . Himself trac'd out the Paths he 'd have us take ; Suffer'd as Man , while yet as God he spake : To shew that Man may do what God requires . Where he Commands he gives the Pow'r t' obey ; And if to him he bids us rise , He readily with Wings supplies ; And guides us on our way . Nothing is Man's but his Free Will , He of himself is impotent to Good : When our Good Will is understood , Assistnces Divine our Faculties will fill . We may obedient be with ease , For , if we love , we please . Love is the whole of us desir'd , We 're Objects which the Godhead move , When once our Hearts with that are fir'd : And sure 't is no hard Task to render Love for Love. Mr. Waller . Love that would all Men just and temp'rate make , Kind to themselves , and others for his sake . 'T is with our Minds as with a fertile Ground , Wanting this Love they must with Weeds abound ; Unruly Passions , whose Effects are worse Than Thorns and Thistles springing from the Curse . Paraph. XXIII . Love is a Deity in Mortal Breast , Working it up to full Perfection ; Nor can the Sacred Inmate rest , Till it the Man divest Of ev'ry surly Passion . It makes us temp'rate , makes us just ; Raises from groveling in the Dust : Through that we are afraid , To violate what God has made : We hurt not others , not defile God's Image stamp't on our own Souls ; But that , ( Alas ! too fertile Soil ) Unless sweet Love controuls , The other Passions Earthy in allay , In their Effects much worse , Than Thorns & Thistles springing from the Curse ; Will run up too too fast , and bear a fatal Sway. Mr. Waller . To Glory , Man , or Misery , is born , Of his proud Foe , the Envy , or the Scorn : Wretched he is , or happy , in extream , Base in himself , but Great in Heav'ns esteem . With Love , of all created things , the best ; Without it , more pernicious than the rest . For greedy Wolves unguarded Sheep devour But while their Hunger lasts , and then give ' ore . Man's Boundless Avarice his Want exceeds , And on his Neighbours round about him , feeds . His Pride and vain Ambition are so vast , That , Deluge-like , they lay whole Nations waste . Paraph. XXIV . Man of a middle Nature is , And trembling stands betwixt two vast Extreams , Ready to fall to Hell , or rise to Bliss ; As Love withdraws , or yeilds its quick'ning Beams : That , to the envy of our Spiritual Foe , Array's us in pure Robes of Light , If that forsake us , we 're a dismal Sight , And into Scorn , and a meer By-word grow : The Div'l can scarce vouchsafe a Look so low . But yet how vile soe're we are ; If Love but shoot its gen'rous Flame Through our complying Frame , We in the Eye of Heav'n are Great , and Fair. Of all the Creatures here , The Human Nature's nighest the Divine , While Love 's within the Shrine , Without it the remotest do's appear . When Savage Beasts pursue , But while they 're hungry , or their Prey in view ; And never hunt about for more than Food : Man , boundless in his Appetite , Ev'n in the Mischief do's delight , And frames unto himself a Good , Which Nature never understood ; In laying Plots but to destroy , What he himself cannot enjoy . The ruine of the weeping Neighbours round , To Avarice , or the Ambitious Thought , Is a too narrow Bound : A Deluge of Destruction brought , To take whole Nations in , And swallow up the publick Peace , With them 's a glorious Sin ; They hugg themselves in such Contrivances as these . Mr. Waller . Debauches and Excess , tho with less Noise , As great a portion of Mankind destroy's . The Beasts , and Monsters , Hercules opprest , Might in that Age some Provinces infest . These more destructive Monsters are the Bane Of every Age , and in all Nations raign : But soon would vanish if the World were bless'd With Sacred Love , by which they are repress'd . Paraph. XXV . Love clears the Earthly Dreggs away , Which would ferment within , Making us eager with tumult'ous Sin , Which brings our fretting Bodies to decay . Debauches , more destructive far , Than livid Plague , or bloody War ; In every Nation sway . Tho Hercules might Monsters quell , And the Augoean Stables clean , From horrid Filth , and Beasts obscene : His Labours were much more confin'd Than Love's , whose Task is all Mankind ; The Place less foul , Monsters less fell , Than what Love cleanses , and subdues in Humane Mind . Mr. Waller . Impendent Death , and Guilt that threatens Hell , Are dreadful Guests , which here with Mortals dwell . And a vext Conscience mingling with their Joy , Thoughts of Dispair do's their whole Life annoy . But Love appearing , all those Terrors fly ; We live contented , and contented dye . They in whose Breast this Sacred Love has place , Death , as a Passage to their Joy , embrace . Paraph. XXVI . When the first Clouds o're Human Mind were spread , And Vapours from the Earth press't Love Divine , Which kept , with Innocence , a constant shine ; Man's humble Confidence and Courage fled : Darkness and Terror seiz'd his Soul ; He felt within a gnawing Pain ; An Omen , and an Earnest too , Of Death , and that ensuing Woe , In which he must for ever rowl ; If Love resign him to a worse controul , Leaving his rav'nous Lusts to raign : Yet all the Anguish and Dispair , Which here the Wretches Entrails tear , But a faint prospect show , Of what for him hereafter must remain . All other Comforts do with Love retire , 'T is that which keeps our Spirits up , And sweetens the most bitter Cup : And did not Grace renew its Fire After Man's Fall , all Travellers Below would tire : Nor can they mount Above , But on the Wings of Love : That do's with Comforts here supply , And carry's us to Heaven when we dye : Whither we oft before in Flames of Love did fly . Mr. Waller . Clouds and thick Vapours which obscure the Day , The Sun 's Victor'ous Beams may chase away : Those which our Life corrupt and darken , Love The Nobler Star , must from the Soul remove . Spots are observ'd in that which bounds the Year ; This brighter Sun moves in a boundless Sphere : Of Heav'n the Joy , the Glory , and the Light , Shines among Angels and admits no Night . Paraph. XXVII . As the Sun Vapours , Love do's us exhale , Do's by Degrees refine , And make us all Divine ; Melting away what e're was frail . That which at first was cloud , And did the Lightsome Body shroud , Will turn into that active Orb , Which never leaves its course till it the whole absorb . Whatever Spots may in that Sun appear ; Which guides the Day , and bounds the Year , The Sun of Love , in Heav'n its Sphere , Is with unblemish'd Lustre , bright : It here but a weak Twilight keeps , And Day through Cloudy Curtains peeps : What thought can reach those Raptures of Delight , Which do those blessed Souls await , Who freed from every Earthly weight , And all the Seeds of dull Mortality , In an Eternal Sunshine lye , Under great Love's transforming Eye ; Which works their Bodies to a Spirit'al Frame , And guilds them over with that Flame , Which do's th' Angelique Host array ! That Joy , that Glory , that perpetual Day , Of which an adequate Ideae were Ev'n Heav'n it self Below , Do's from the Beatifick Vision flow , Of Everlasting Love , smiling from 's Starry Chair . Mr. Waller . This Iron Age so fradulent and bold , Touch'd with this Love would be an Age of Gold : Not as they faign'd , that Oaks should Honey drop ; Or Land neglected bear an unsown Crop. Paraph. XXVIII . This Iron Age , the very Dross of Time , Love would with alterative touch sublime , And bring again the Golden Prime : Not such as lazy Poets idly feign In Phlegmatick Old Saturn's Raign ; While Nature , prodigal o' th' beaut'ous store , Requir'd no Courtship to unlock her Heart , But like a Prostitute , and easy Whore , Did to each Comer all her Wealth impart . But tho Dame Nature's more reserv'd and coy , And looks for Labour and the utmost Care , Of them who would her Favours share : And many after all cannot the least enjoy : Love , which diffus'd , is Charity , Would all Mankind supply ; While he who did successful prove ; ( And here Success is all ) Be'ing taught Humanity by God-like Love , Would think himself bound to divide , To them whose Needs did call ; As much as to prevent his own Child's fall . A Plank cast out to sinking Men , Bore down ill Fortune's unresisted Tide , With a rich Lading do's return agen . What solid Joy ! what sober Pride , From a good Act effective springs ! Nor Field , nor Traffick , such Improvement brings . A charitable Man 's a God Below : And with his raised Head do's touch the Sky : While others turn'd to Beasts of Prey , Upon the Ground in wait for Mischief lye ; Nor Pleasures more exalted know , Than what a Wolf enjoys tearing a bleating Stray . Mr. Waller . Love would make all things easy , safe , and cheap ; None for himself would either Sow of Reap : Our ready Help , and Mutual Love would yeild , A nobler Harvest than the richest Feild . Famine and Dearth confin'd to certain parts , Extended are by barrenness of Hearts . Some pine for Want , where others Surfeit now , But then we should the use of Plenty know , Love would betwixt the Rich and Needy stand , And spread Heav'ns Bounty with an equal Hand ; At once the Givers and Receivers bless ; Encrease their Joy , and make their Suff'rings less . Paraph. XXIX . 'T was want of Love which first gave price to Gold , When they to whom kind Heav'n did lend , More than their Families could spend , And of the Overplus its Steward 's made ; The Sacred Trust betray'd , And what they should distribute basely sold. This put the Scepter into Fortune's Hand , And she who was despis'd before , By Man's consent a Crown Imperi'al wore ; With Life and Death put under her Command . Her Frown gave Ruin to whole Families , Without her Favour none could rise . While Men might takeout of the common Store , And no Man treasur'd for himself alone , Nor ought beyond his Needs esteem'd his own ; None were unfortunate , or poor . Nature is bountiful , Man is not so : But when her flatt'ning Streams would flow , Enriching all the Plains below ; Men with their Damns divert her Course , And into narrow Bounds diffusive Nature force . XXX . All things would easy be and cheap , Did Love the Key of the great Store-house keep : If here the Earth deceive the Lab'rers Toil , Another meets with more returning Soil . Famine and Dearth never from Nature came , She always gave enough for all : If to engrossing Hands it fall ; 'T is not the barren Land , but barren Heart , Which ought to bear the blame ; The Heart where Love did never shine , Or one compassio'nating Ray impart . Love would not suffer some for Want to pine , While others Surfeit with excess ; And turn into a Curse , what was ordain'd to bless . Love like a Fav'rite Minister of Heav'n , That ne're to execute its Wrath was sent , But many 'a threatning Vial did prevent , With Pow'r Divine of Blessing giv'n ; Betwixt the Scramblers of the Earth would stand , And spread its Riches with an equal Hand . He whose Endeavours did the best succeed , Would think his Riches lay in helping others need . Mr. Waller . Who for himself no Miracle would make , Dispens'd with Nature for the People's sake . Paraph. XXXI . The Lord of all things while he travell'd here , Found the whole World was Canton'd out ; And nothing left for th' Universal Heir , Besides a breathing Place i' th' open Air. Not having where to rest his Head , Or Table for his Hunger spread : With Pilgrim's Weed , and Fare , wandring about . Yet Nature but his Handmaid was , Nor could have disobey'd his Voice ; If of her Stock he had but made his Choice , The Stewards must have let it pass . Nay Stony Hearts , or Doors of Brass , Could not the winged Wealth have kept ; All things would to their Lord have gladly leapt . Were the Earth's Fruits not fit for taste ; Ev'n at his Touch they 'd into Ripeness haste . A Miracle was nothing more , Than an exertion of his Natural Pow'r . Yet freely did he rigid Chances bear , And , but for others wants , would not a God appear . Mr. Waller . He that long Fasting would no Wonder show , Made Loaves and Fishes , as they eat them , grow . Of all his Pow'r which boundless was Above , Here he us'd none , but to express his Love. And such a Love would make our Joy exceed , Not when our own , but other Mouths we feed . Paraph. XXXII . When th' utmost Stress on 's Human Nature lay , Through Fasting ready just to faint away ; While Satan o're him did insulting stand , Hoping when spent he 'd fall his Prey ; He would not the least Miracle command . But when desire of Spirit'al Food Drew to his Side the hungry Multitude ; Love soon engag'd his Pow'r Divine ; And then he was a God indeed , When he created Food unto their need ; And did by wonderful Production Thousands dine . What e're he did while here Below , Came from the Principle of Love. Love was the Vertue which did from him flow . His Meat , and Drink , were to fulfil His Heav'nly Father's Will , Of doing good to Men. If his Disciples we 'd our Selves approve , No Victory would yeild us so much Joy , As taking from ill Fate Pow'r to destroy Those , whom the Monster hurry'd to its Den : Bringing most comfortable Aid , To them were posting to th' Infernal Shade ; Worn out with wasting Woes , yet still of worse afraid . Mr. Waller . Laws would be useless which rude Nature awe , Love changing Nature would prevent the Law. Tygers and Lions into Dens we thrust , But milder Creatures with their Freedom trust . Devils are chain'd and tremble : But the Spouse No Force but Love , nor Bond but Bounty , knows . Men whom we now so fierce and dang'rous see , Would Guardian Angels to each other be . Such Wonders can this mighty Love perform ; Vultures to Doves , Wolves into Lambs transform . Love , what Isaiah prophesied can do , Exalt the Valleys , lay the Mountains low . Humble the Lofty , the Dejected raise , Smooth and make streight our rough and crooked ways . Love , strong as Death , and , like it , levels all , With that possest , the Great in Title fall ; Themselves esteem'd but equal to the least , Whom Heav'n with that high Character has blest . This Love , the Center of our Union , can Alone bestow compleat Repose on Man ; Tame his wild Appetite , make inward Peace , And Foreign Strife among the Nations cease . Paraph. XXXIII . As Love decay'd , Men sunk below their kind , Thence to Humanity they 're Strangers found , The Brutal part Superior to the Mind : Where gen'rous Lions spare , they meanly wound , And their wild Lusts spread Death and Plagues around . The Hopes or Terrors of a Future State , Have with the most but little weight ; If they can solace here , they 'l leave the rest to Fate . Wherefore 't was needful sudden Pain , And Punishment expected here , Should the bold Head-strong Bruits restrain . A Lion or a Bear i' th' way , Would stop a Passion in its full Carier : And what Temptation could prevail , When all the Spirits sink and fail ; The Pleasure dissipated by the Fear ? This made the thinking part of Human kind , Who had observ'd each turning of the Mind ; And could the Wilder into Tameness stroak , Devise , with Laws , the stubborn Necks to Yoak : With Spikes of Steel the Yoaks were set ; Mars did not struggle more in vain , When caught in sooty Vulcan's Net , Than they to break what they themselves ordain : With Mulcts ill-Habits , by degrees , are broke : But as poor Lunatick , that feels his fit From lucid Intervals , his Spirits alarm ; Do's to those welcom Cords submit , Which may prevent his threatned Harm : Yet at full-Tide of the Disease , Whatever keeps from Mischief do's displease : So 't is with Man in yeilding to the Law , Which do's th' Impulses of depraved Nature awe . XXXIV . But Love all this would supersede , That is a gentle Law within , Which with sweet Force subdues the Law of Sin : Love's Votaries no Rigors need : All things are quiet where its Halcyons breed . A smiling Calm do's smooth the Face , Where Love sits brooding at the Heart : Where e're it comes it scatters many'a Grace ; And do's a melting Warmth impart , Which would dissolve the hardest Stone : But with what Radiancy it shines , When it has Female Wax to work upon ! Where it from little Coynesses refines , And in one Will the Wife and Husband joyns . All Ties but Love are laid aside , Duty 's a Word that would divide ; What 's askt in Love , was ne're by Love deny'd . A pleasing Symphony each other charms , As they go bound one in the others Arms , While Div'ls are chain'd , and Div'l like Men , In loathsom Prisons lie confin'd ; And like fierce Tygers shut up in a Den ; With their vain Ravings spent , sullenly grieve ; Where Love emancipates the Mind , The Man 's as free as unpent Air , Yet can no more Love's Object leave ; When he has chose the good and fair , Than he to taste Joys unforbidden can forbear . XXXV . For working Wonders Love has mighty Pow'r , Strange Transformations it can make ; They whose Delight was to devour , A diff'rent gentle Nature take : From Beasts to Men , from Men t'Angellick kind , By that we Changes in an Instant find . Heav'ns winged Ministers , sent out to guard The chosen few to Mansions there prepar'd ; Hardly more vigilant and tender prove , Than they who Metamorphos'd are by Love. Love can Isaiah's Prophecy fulfil , Exalt the Vale , lay low the Hill ; Raise them that are Below , and humble those Above . No Man so high , but would rejoice to fall To a great Soul , who stands the Mark of Fate ; Yet , spite of envious Fortune , will be Great : And God himself to th' Spectacle do's call , To see him , like an unmov'd Rock , Stand the rude Billows empty shock , And dash them back into the Face of Heav'n : Until , so well such brave Adventures please , God smooths the Surface of the raging Seas ; And lets him reach Love's Haven then with ease . Through Love alone our Happiness is giv'n , Our Glory there , and here our Peace . And did this Rule , Wars would amongst the Nations cease . Mr. Waller . No Martial Trumpet should disturb our Rest , Nor Princes Arm , tho to subdue the East ; Where for the Tomb so many Heros taught , By those that guided their Devotion , fought : Thrice happy we ! could we like Ardour have To gain his Love , as they to win his Grave : Love as he lov'd . A Love so unconfin'd , With Arms extended , would embrace Mankind : Self-Love would cease , or be dilated , when We should behold as many Selves as Men ; All of one Family , in Blood Ally'd ; His precious Blood that for our Ransom dy'd . Paraph. XXXVI . The Drums or Trumpets horrid sound Would not the boding Heart with Terror wound ; Nor would the Princes cloath themselves with Steel , ( While they , than that , no more relentings feel ) Tho 't were to gain our Saviour's Monument : And , like the Ark from the curst Philistines , To bring it unto Israel's happy Tent. Many brave Lives were lost in such Designs , Whilst subtile Men , wheadling the Heros in , Did unobserv'd to Empire rise ; These did some useless Lawrels win : But they enjoy'd the solid Prize . How might we pity such misguided Zeal ! How much these Heros would behind us come ! If we like Transports of Desire could feel To gain his Love , as they to win his Tomb. And if his Love could ours excite To labour at an equal height , With that which would embrace Mankind ; And grieves to see so many lagg behind , For want of Love to Wing them to his Arms. Did we that Pattern emulate , Self-Love would wholly cease ; Or else it self o're Human Race dilate , While each another Self in 's Neighbour sees , Whose ev'ry Vein the same Blood warms ; That Blood which virt'ally was shed , An Antidote , as soon as Sin 's first Poyson spread . Mr. Waller . Tho the Creation , so Divinely Taught , Prints such a lively Image in our Thought , That the first Spark of new created Light From Chaos struck , affects our present Sight : Yet the first Christians did esteem more blest , The Day of Rising than the Day of Rest : That every Week might new occasion give , To make his Triumph in their Mem'ry Live. Paraph. XXXVII . To make the World , and in it Man , Th' Almighty Architect t' Adore , Do's less of Love Divine declare , Than his decayed Image to repair ; And when with Sins 't was sullied o're , It s former Luster to restore . Tho the Description giv'n us from Above , Of God's first Workmanship do's strongely move ; And 't is so lively drawn , That ev'n the first Days dawn , Seems to affect our present Sight , As if we saw the new created Light Just out of Chaos raise its beamy Head ; While , as the Hemisphere it smiling spread , In haste the frightful Shadows fled , And the approach of unknown Day , Disperst the Doemons which here wall'wing lay : Yet the first Christians justly chose , To praise that Day when God from 's Grave arose ; Before his Rest , when the great Work was done : And thus each Week they celebrate the rising Sun. Mr. Waller . Then let our Muse compose a Sacred Charm , To keep his Blood among us ever warm ; And singing , as the Blessed do Above , With our last Breath dilate this Flame of Love. But on so vast a Subject who can find , Words that may reach th' Ideas of his Mind ? Our Language fails , or if it could supply , What Mortal Thought can raise it self so high ? Despairing here we might abandon Art , And only hope to have it in our Heart . Paraph. XXXVIII . Then let our Muse transported with his praise , Unto his Memory an Altar raise , And each Lord's Day offer devoted Lays . Singing and spreading out the Flame of Love , Until it touch the Flaming Seat Above ; Where in its Element the Soul shall rest , With the Reward of Love for ever blest ; Love , the Ambrosia at the Heav'nly Feast . Who can those thronging Images express , That fill the Mind intent on such a Theam ? We here must needs our Poverty confess , Where what we think is less than what we feel . An Angels Hand with a Sun Beam , Might such a Subject trace : While we poor Earth-born Race , Despairing to describe its meanest Grace ; Contentedly may rest , Having this Deity within our Breast : Tho meanly lodg'd , there it delights to dwell , If we cherish it with care ; Th' Endearments passing there , No Tongue can tell , No Thought can reach ; The Mind 's confounded when 't would dictate to the Speech . Mr. Waller . But tho we find this Sacred Task too hard , Yet the Design , th'Endeavour , brings Reward , The Contemplation do's suspend our Woe , And makes a Truce with all the Ills we know . As Saul's afflicted Spirit from the sound Of David's Harp a present Solace found ; So on this Theam while we our Muse engage , No Wounds are felt of Fortune , or of Age. On Divine Love to meditate , is Peace , And makes all care of meaner things to cease . Paraph. XXXIX . Yet the Design , the bare Endeavour brings Reward , beyond the Crowns of Kings : The Swan can feel no Pain , that dying sings . And he who thinks of Sacred Love , Do's with that Contemplation tune his Mind ; Nor can what from without do's move , Disturb the Musick he within do's find . While that about the Soul do's play , All Ills and Evil Spirits keep away . Not David's Harp with sweeter ease , Did charm the Furious Saul , And make his ravisht Madness fall ; Than this suspends our raging Woes : We know not how we lose The Thoughts of what we were before . And , while that Harmony takes up the Soul , Nothing about us can displease : Love to it Self converts the whole . We just are knocking at Heav'ns Door , Being with all the World at Peace ; Just , just approaching to become meer Deities . Mr. Waller . Amaz'd at once , and comforted , to find A boundless Pow'r so infinitely kind . The Soul contending to that Light to fly , From her dark Cell , we practise how to dye : Emplying thus the Poets winged Art , To reach this Love , and grave it in our Heart . Joy so compleat , so solid , and severe , Would leave no Place for meaner Pleasures there : Pale they would look , as Stars that must be gon . When from the East the rising Sun comes on . Paraph. XL. With what surprize of Joy do we admire Infinite Love , mixt with unbounded Pow'r ? The Flames all Lambent , which might well devour Us , who lay under the Almighty's Ire ; Till he the Image of his Love Divine , Sent down on Earth to shine ; And be a Leading Light , To them that groap'd in gloomy Night ; Where Spectres of Eternal Death affright : And raise them to Love's Glorious Throne , Whither the Soul may often fly Upon the Wings of Contemplation , Abstracted from its sordid Cell ; And that blest Time anticipate , When free from ev'ry Weight , Nor subject more to Fate , We shall to live for ever dye ; And leave our Inn Below , in Heav'n to dwell , The noblest Rise , and boldest Flights That thitherward are made , Are by the Muses Aid . Verse softens , and prepares for those Delights , Which Angels do in Numbers sing : Numbers , which raise the Soul upon the Wing , And to the Beatifick view , Of Love's bright Face , do bring : Where Holy David singing to his Lyre , Sits with the highest of the Heav'nly Quire ; Telling his Bliss in Verses ever new . The thoughts of Joys , so solid and severe , Aim'd at in Verse by Mortal Poets here , Make meaner Pleasures shrink away ; As the less Lights , the Stars , when Phoebus brings the Day . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A67822-e4540 2 King. 2. 21. Notes for div A67822-e8660 Iob. 38. 7.