Religion

A Feast for Wormes: Section 4

by Francis Quarles 1592–1644

From Divine Poems (1633), A Feast for Wormes

Religion

They question Ionah whence he came,
His Country, and his peoples Name.
He makes reply: They mone their woe,
And aske his counsell what to doe.

AS when a Thiefe's appr'hended on suspect,
And charg'd for some supposed malefact,
A rude concourse of people, straight accrewes,
Whose itching eares even smart to know the newes.
The guilty pris'ner (to himselfe betraid)
He stands dejected, trembling and afraid:
So Ionah stood the Sailers all among,
Inclosed round amid the ruder throng.
As in a Summers evening you shall heare
In Hives of Bees (if you lay close your eare)
Confused buzzing, and seditious noise,
Such was the murmure of the Saylers voice.
" What was thy sinfull act, that causes this,
" (Sayes one) wherein hast thou so done amisse?
" Tell us, What is thine Art (another sayes)
" That thou professest? Speake man, Whences awayes,
" From what Confines ca'st thou? (A third replyes)
" What is thy Country? And of what allies?
" What, art thou borne a Iew? or Gentile? whether?
" ( he could lend an answer unto either)
" A fourth dands; Where hath thy breeding beene?
All what they askt, they all askt o're agen:
In fine, their eares (impatient of delay)
Becalm'd their tongues to hear what he could say.
So (humbly rearing up his eyes)
Breaking his long-kept silence, thus replyes:
" I am an Hebrew, sonne of Abraham,
" From whom my Land did first derive her name,
" Within the Land of Iury was I borne,
" My name is Ionah, etchelesse and forlorne
" I am a Prophet: ah! but woe is me,
" For from before the face of God I flee;
" From whence (through disobedience) I am driven:
" I seare Iehovah, the great God of Heaven:
" I feare the Lord of Hosts, whose glorious hand
" Did make this stormy Sea, and massie Land.
So said, their eares with double ravishment,
Still hung upon his melting lips, attent,
Whose dreadful words their harts so neer impierct,
That from themselves, themselves were quite di-vers
As in a sowltry Summers evening tide,
(When lustfull Phoebus re-salutes his Bride,
And Philomela 'gins her caroling)
A Herd of Deere are browzing in a Spring,
With eger appetite, misdeeming nought,
Nor in so deepe a silence fearing ought:
A sudden cracke, or some unthought-of sound,
Or bounce of Fowlers Peece, or yelpe of Hound,
Disturbs their quiet peace wth strange amaze
Where (senslesse halfe) through feare, they stand a gaze
So stand the Sea-men, (as with Ghosts affrighted,)
Entraunc'd with what this man of God recited:
Their tyred limbes doe now waxe faint, and lither,
Their harts did yern, their knees did smite together.
Congealed blood usurpt their trembling hearts,
And left a faintnesse in their feeble parts:
Who (trembling out distracting language,) thus:
" Why hast thou brought this mischiefe upon us?
" What humour led thee to a place unknowne,
" To seeke forraigne Land, and leave thine owne?
" What faith hadst thou, by leaving thine abode,
" To thinke to flye the presence of thy God?
" Why hast thou not obey'd (but thus transgrest)
" The voyce of God, whom thou acknowledgest?
" Art thou a Prophet, and dost thou amisse?
" What is the cause? and why hast thou done this?
" What shall we do? The tempest lends no eare
" To fruitlesse that, nor dot the bllowes heare,
" Or marke our language: Waves are not atent:
" Our goods they flat, our needlesse paines are spent,
" Our Barke's not weather proofe: no Fort's so stout,
" To keepe continuall siege and battry out.
" The Lot accuses thee, thy words condemne thee,
" The ves (thy deaths men) strive to overwhelme thee:
" What she we doe? Thou Prophet, speake, we pray thee:
" Thou fear'dst the Lord; Alas! we may not stay thee:
" Or shall we save thee? No, for thou dost flye
" The face of God, and so deserv's to dye:
" Thou Prophet, speake, what shall be done to thee,
" That angry Sea may calme, and quiet be?

MLA

Quarles, Francis. “A Feast for Wormes: Section 4.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/quarles/428/.

Chicago

Quarles, Francis. “A Feast for Wormes: Section 4.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/quarles/428/.

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