SONG

IT Autumne was, and on our Hemispheare
Faire Ericine began bright to appeare,
Night West-ward did her gemmy World decline,
And hide her Lights, that greater Light might shine:
The crested Bird hath given Alarum twice
To lazy Mortals to unlock their Eyes,
The Owle had left to plaine, and from each Throne
The wing'd Musicians did salute the Morne,
Who (while she dress'd her Locks in Ganges streames)
Set open wide the chrystall Port of Dreames:
When I, whose Eyes no drousie Night could close,
In Sleeps soft armes did quietly repose,
And, for that Heavens to die did me deny,
Deaths Image kissed, and as dead did lie.
I lay as dead, but scarce cha…m'd were my Cares,
And slaked scarce my Sighs, scarce dried my Teares,
Sleep scarce the ugly Figures of the Day
Had with his sable Pencill put away,
And left me in a still and calmy Mood,
When by my Bed (me thought) a Virgin stood,
A Virgin in the blooming of her Prime,
If such rare Beauty measur'd be by Time.
Her Head a Garland wore of Opalls bright▪
About her flow'd a Gown like purest Light,
Pure Amber Locks gave Umbrage to her Face,
Where Modesty high Majesty did grace;
Her Eyes such Beames sent forth, that but with paine
Her weaker Sights their sparklings could sustaine.
No feigned D…ity which haunts the Woods
Is like to Her, nor Syrene of the Floods:
Such is the Golden Planet of the Yeare,
When bl…shing in the East he doth appeare.
Her Grace did beauty, Voice yet Grace did passe,
Which thus through Pearles and Rubies broken was.
How long wilt thou (said she) estrang'd from Joy,
Paint Shadows to thy selfe of false Annoy?
How long thy Mind with horrid Shapes affright,
And in imaginary Evills delight?
Esteeme that Losse which (well when view'd) is Gaine,
Or if a Losse, yet not a Losse too plaine?
O leave thy plain…full Soule more to molest,
And thinke that woe when shortest then is best.
If She for whom thou thus dost deafe the Skie
Be dead? What then? Was she not borne to die?
Was She not mortall borne? If thou dost grieve
That Times should be in which She should not live,
Ere e're she was weep that Daies wheele was roll'd,
Weep that she liv'd not in the Age of Gold.
For that she was not then thou maiest deplore,
As well as that she now can be no more.
If only she had died, thou sure hadst Cause
To blame the Fates, and their too iron Laws.
But look how many Millions her advance,
What numbers with her enter in this Dance,
With those which are to come: shall Heavens them stay,
And th' Universe dissolve thee to obey?
As Birth, Death, which so much thee doth apall,
A Peece is of the Life of this great All.
Strong Cities die, die do high palmy Raignes,
And fondling thou thus to be us'd complaines.
If she be dead, then she of loathsome Daies
Hath pass'd the Line▪ whose Length but Losse bewraies,
Then she hath left this filthy Stage of Care,
Where Pleasure seldome, Woe doth still repaire.
For all the Pleasures which it doth containe
Not countervaile the smallest Minutes paine.
And tell me, thou who dost so much admire
This little Vapour, this poore Sparke of F…re,
Which Life is call'd, what doth it thee bequeath
But some few yeares which Birth draws out to Death?
Which if thou paralell with Lustres run,
Or those whose courses are but now begun,
In da…es great Numbers they shall lesse appeare,
Than with the Sea when matched is a Teare.
But why shouldst thou here longer wish to be?
One Yeare doth serve all Natures Pompe to see,
Nay, even one Day, and Night: this Moone, that Sun,
Those lesser Fires about this Round which Run,
Be but the same which under Saturnes Raigne.
Did the serpenting Seasons interchaine.
How oft doth Life grow lesse by living long?
And what excelleth but what dieth young?
For Age which all abhor (yet would embrace)
Doth make the Mind as wrinckled as the Face.
Then leave Laments, and thinke thou did'st not live
Laws to that first eternall Cause to give,
But to obey those Laws which he hath given,
And bow unto the just decrees of Heaven,
Which cannot …r…e, whatever foggy Mists
Do blind men in these sublunary Lists.
But what if she for whom thou sp…nd'st those Groanes,
And wastes thy Lifes deare Torch in ruthfull Moanes,
She for whose sake thou hat'st the joyfull Light,
Courts solitary Shades and irkesome Night,
Doth live? ah! (if thou canst) through Teares, a space,
Lift thy dimm'd Lights, and look upon this Face,
Look if those Eyes which (foole) thou didst adore,
Shine not more bright than they were wont before.
Looke if those Roses Death could ought impaire
Those Roses which thou once saidst were so faire;
And if these Locks have lost ought of that Gol…,
Which once they had when thou them didst behold▪
I live, and happy live, but thou art dead,
And still shalt be, t…ll t…ou be l…ke me ma…e.
Alas while we are wrapt in Gowns of Earth,
And blind here suck the Aire of Woe beneath,
Each thing in Senses Ballances we weigh,
And but with toyle, and Paine the truth descry.
Above this vast and admirable Frame,
This Temple visible, which World we name,
Within whose Walls so many Lamps do burne,
So many Arches with crosse motions turne,
Where the Elementall Brothers nurse their strife,
And by intestine Wars maintain their Life:
There is a World, a World of perfect Blisse,
Pure, immateriall, as brighter far from this,
As that high Circle which the rest enspheares
Is from this dull, ignoble Vale of Teares.
A World where all is found, that here is found,
But further discrepant than Heaven and Ground:
It hath an Earth, as hath this World of yours,
With Creatures peopled, and adorn'd with Flowr's;
It hath a Sea, like Saphire Girdle cast
Which decks of the harmonious Shores the Waste;
It hath pure Fire, it hath delicious Aire,
Moone, Sun, and Stars, Heavens wonderfully faire:
Flow'rs never there do fade, Trees grow not old,
No Creature dieth there through heat or cold;
Sea there not tossed is, nor Aire made blacke,
F…re doth not greedy feed on others Wrack:
There Heavens be not constrain'd about to range,
For this World hath no need of any Change:
Minutes mount not to Houres, nor Houres to Daies,
Daies make no Months, but ever-blooming Maies.
Here I remaine, and hitherward do tend,
All who their Span of Daies in Vertue spend;
What ever Pleasant this low Place containes,
Is but a Glance of what above remaines.
Those who (perchance) there can nothing be
Beyond this wide Expansion which they see,
And that nought else mounts Stars Circumference,
For that nought else is subject to their sense,
Feele such a Case, as one whom some Abisme
In the deep Ocean kept had all his Time:
Who borne, and nourish'd there, cannot believe
That elsewhere ought without those waves can live:
Cannot beleeve that there be Temples, Tow'rs,
Which go beyond his Caves and dampish Bowr's:
Or there be other People, Manners, Laws,
Than what he finds within the churlish Waves:
That sweeter Flow'rs do spring than grow on Rocks,
Or Beasts there are excell the skaly Flocks,
That other Elements are to be found,
Than is the Water and this Ball of Ground.
But thinke that man from this Abisme being brought,
Did see what curious Nature here hath wrought,
Did view the Meads, the tall and shady Woods,
And mark'd the hills, and the cleare rowling flouds;
And all the Beasts which Nature forth doth bring,
The feathered Troupes that flie, and sweetly sing:
Observ'd the Palaces, and Cities faire,
Mens Fashion of Life, the Fire, the Aire,
The brightnesse of the Sun that dims his Sight,
The Moone, and splendors of the painted Night:
What sudden rapture would his mind surprise?
How would he his late-deare Resort despise?
How would he muse how foolish he had been,
To thinke all nothing but what there was seen?
Why do we get this high and vast Desire,
Unto immortall things still to aspire?
Why doth our Mind extend it beyond Time,
And to that highest happinesse even clime?
For we are more than what to Sense we seeme,
And more than Dust us Worldlings do esteeme?
We be not made for Earth, though here we come,
More than the Em…ryon for the Mothers Wombe:
It weeps to be made free, and we complaine
To leave this loathsome Jaile of Care and Paine.
But thou who vulgar foot-steps dost not trace,
Learne to rowse up thy mind to view this place,
And what Earth-creeping Mortals most affect,
If not at all to scorne, yet not to neglect:
Seek not vaine shadows, which when once obtain'd
Are better los'd than with such travell gain'd.
Thinke that on Earth what worldlings Greatnesse call,
Is but a glorious title to live thrall:
That Scepters, Diadems, and Chaires of State,
Not in themselves, but to small Minds are great:
That those who loftiest mount do hardest light,
And deepest Falls be from the highest Height:
That Fame an Eccho is, and all Renown
Like to a blasted Rose, ere Night falls down:
And though it something were, thinke how this Round
Is but a little Point, which doth it bound.
O leave that Love which reacheth but to Dust,
And in that Love Eternall only trust,
And Beauty, which when once it is possest
Can only fill the Soule and make it blest.
Pale Envy, jealous Emulations, Feares,
Sighs, Plaints, Remorse, here have no place nor Teares,
False Joyes, vaine Hopes, here be not, Hate nor Wrath,
What ends all Love here most augments it Death.
If such force had the dim Glance of an Eye,
Which but some few daies afterwards did die,
That it could make thee leave all other things,
And like a Taper-fly there burne thy Wings?
And if a voice, of late which could but waile,
Such Power had as through Eares thy Soule to steale?
If once thou on that poorely Faire couldst gaze,
What Flames of Love would this within thee raise?
In what amusing Maze would it thee bring,
To …eare but once that Quire celestiall sing?
The fairest shapes on which thy Love did sease,
Which earst didst breed Delight, then would displease;
But Discords hoarse were Earths entising Sounds,
All Musick but a Noise, which Sense confounds.
This great and burning Glasse which cleares all Eyes,
And musters with such Glory in the Skies,
That silver Star which with her purer Light
Makes Day oft-Envy the eye pleasing Night,
Those golden letters which so brightly shine
In Heavens great Volume gorgeously divine;
All wonders in the Sea, the Earth, the Aire,
Be but darke Pictures of that Soveraigne Faire,
And Tongues, which still thus cry into your Eare
(Could ye amidst Worlds Cataracts them heare)
From fading things (fond Men) lift your Desire,
And in our Beauty his us made admire:
If we seeme faire? O thinke how faire is he,
Of whose great Fairenesse, Shadows, Steps we be.
No Shadow can compare unto the Face,
No Step with that deare foot which did it trace,
Your Soules immortall are, then place them hence,
And do not drown them in the Mist of Sense:
Do not, O do not by false Pleasures Might
Deprive them of that true and sole Delight.
That Happinesse ye seek is not below,
Earths sweetest Joy is but disguised Woe.
Here did she pause, and with a mild Aspect▪
Did towards me those lamping Twins direct.
The wonted Raies I knew, and thrice essay'd
To Answer make▪ thrice faul…ring Tongue it stay'd.
And while upon that Face I fed my Sight,
Me thought she vanisht up to Titans Light;
Who guilding with his Rayes each Hill, and Plaine,
Seem'd to have brought the Golden World againe.