The Temple of Virtue

Reach me an Eagles plume! or take
From Mercurie's Aethereal wing
Some highborn quil my pen to make,
Whilst I of Virtue sing!

Th'Imperial Bay which Poets wore
In Saturn's age, and humbly grew
From base ignoble earth, is poore;
My Temples some more new

Unheard-of garland shall invest;
One of Apollo's burnish'd hair
Twisted with threds of life, and drest
With Sol's bright raies, Ile weare.

Hence all prophaner ears! my Lyre
Exalted to Seraphick height,
Ecchoes streins worthy such a Quire,
And scorns a lower flight.

Mounted me thinks on Pegasus,
From the despised world I flie
Aloft in clouds, where soaring thus
I view this Deitie.

There sits she crown'd in glorious state,
And whitest robes of Innocence;
Not in that poore despis'd estate
As she was banisht hence.

I'th'midst of a fair temple, there
Unto her Honour consecrate,
Her handmaids 'bout her Royal chair
Adorn'd with Trophies wait.

Oh did blind mortals but behold,
How she dispenseth gifts each where
To her attendants, I'd be bold
They would with greater care

Serve at her Altars! but alas!
They fondly sleight her here below,
And think her nothing worth, because
Shee doth so meanly go.

They do not know what Conquest 'tis
To have o'rcome one Rebel vice,
What crowns of joy he purchases
Who gets such victories.

Virtue rewardeth sure, though late;
Who growes soon rich by policie
And thriving Arts, doth purchase hate,
And robs his market, he

Thus by forestalling it. Light gains
Make heavie purses: Honestie
That doth it self reward, disdains
Boones oft in modestie.

For Virtues sake lets her affect
And not for praise or benefit
Accruing thence, such by-respect
Robs both our selves, and it.

Oh what a glorious Court doth there
Of all the Graces Virtues too
In female shape and dresse appear!
As if they would out-doe

The Heav'ns in splendour, and confine
All worth unto that sex! behold
Where Modestie in blush divine
With Roses set in gold

Triumphant shines! and close by her,
Silence that Pythagorean grace
Hee taught his scholars, but by far
More becomes female race.

Next her sits Innocence arrai'd
In snow-white robes, and on her head
A Chaplet wears of Love all made
And Lillies mingled.

Hard by this Peer sits Chastiti,
Her ears close bound about, for fear
(Though crown'd with Lillies too) lest she
Should ought offensive hear.

By her with book in hand, her eies
Fixt upwards sits true Pietie,
As she with Prai'r cou'd pierce the skies,
Crown'd with a Galaxie.

There Love, here Affabilitie,
And by her, noble Gentleness;
By whom sits faithful Constancie,
Each deckt in several dresse:

Lowest of all Humilitie
Stands gravely by, as who wou'd say
(Though She were crowned too) that shee
Serv'd waitingmaid that day.

More do I Laureate view among
These holy Nymphs: but oh! I see
High above all this sacred throng,
A richer Deitie,

To whom these homage did, so fair,
That I'l approach and neerer prie;
Chiefly our eies delighted are
With Curiositie.

Nor is't enough one Grace to know;
The way's all pav'd with stars, to blisse;
We must from one to th'other go,
And climb to perfectness.

I'l through each Glorie then, and see
What mighty Goddesse dwelleth there,
Ruling with so much Majestie
In this diviner sphere.

It must be she, and Shee alone,
(Unless my dazled eies mistake)
Whom all these Virtues wait upon,
And their Queen Regent make.

'Tis shee: lov'd Clarastella, she
These Virtues court: with whose faire store
All mankind might enriched be,
And yet not leave her poor.

Thy pardon yet dear Quintessence
Of all perfection! if I—
In this thy holy conference
Intruding presse too nigh.

'Twas Love did guide me to thy shrine,
Where I'l adoring serve alone
Thee, Virtues self, whose soul divine
doth make these all, but one.