םרשה רש OR SOLOMON'S SONG PARAPHRAS'D: A PINDARICK POEM.
Carmina secessum Scribentis, & otia quoerunt:
Me mare, me venti, me fera jactat hyems.
Ovid. de Trist. Lib. 1. Eleg. 1.
LONDON, Printed by H. Hills, for Henry Faithorne, and John Kersey, at the Sign of the Rose in St. Paul's Church-Yard. 1681.
םרשה רש OR SOLOMON'S SONG Paraphrased.
CHAP. I.
verse 1 THe Song of Songs from Sacred Muses sprang,
Which
Jesse's Grand-Child to the People sang.
CHƲRCH.
verse 2 With soft Embraces let him clasp me round,
Whilst glances darted from his eyes
Outstrip the num'rous Army of the Skies,
And to a larger Audit rise
Than all the Sand upon the Ocean bound,
Or Spires of grass on
Palaestina's ground:
Whilst thus about each others necks we twine,
Our Sacred flames out-vie the heat of Wine.
verse 3 Because of those choice Oyntments shed
With Rosie Odours on thy youthful head,
(Yet not so fragrant as thy Name)
Which trickling down with Spikenard meet
(Spikenard sent up from thy Triumphant feet)
[Page 2] The Virgins love thee with a purer flame
Than those which newly from the Altar came.
verse 4 Let thine ore-powring Beauty draw my heart
With (more than Adamantine Tyes)
The prosperous glances of thy youthful eyes,
And then we'll never part.
Blest Union Mystical! The King
Has plac't me underneath his Wing.
Thrice happy Soul so caught,
And to so fair a Palace brought!
To him we dance, to him we sing.
The sprightly Goblet now no more shall move:
The righteous Kiss, and thus they pledge thy Love.
verse 5. 6. O turn, thou Fairest, turn-away
That too too heedful ray;
Lest my discolour'd cheeks offend thy sight;
(Grown duskie from the Suns officious light.)
Alas! by Brothers hatred I was sent
To labour in anothers Tent,
(Unmindful of mine own) and thus grew old
Under the Summers heat and Winters cold:
Yet Blackness has its Beauty, and the shade
Was as a Masque for Lovers made.
Thus from the Soultrie plain
Th'
Arabian Swain
Ore-powred by Heat to
Kedar creeps,
And
Selomoh beneath his Banner sleeps.
verse 7 Tell me at last,
O thou to whom my Soul is bound so fast,
Where, in the night of miseries opprest,
Thou mak'st thy wearied flocks to rest.
Where thou dost
Benjamin and
Josephs sheep
(Beside thy Tents) in ample Pastures keep?
[Page 3] For why
Should only I
From thy Protection and my Safety flie?
CHRIST.
verse 8 If yet thou know'st not (O thou Fair)
Whose unpois'd glories greater are
Than all the blooming pride
Sprung from the Font of
Adams side;
Haste with thy Staff and Pilgrims Weed,
And when from far thou dost espie
The num'rous footsteps of the Passers-by,
There take thy road, for fear thou stray
In an ill-trod, uneasie way:
And when the Shepherds Tents appear,
They'l shew thee where I feed,
And when my flocks are near.
verse 9 Thy splendour, O my Love, exceeds the show
Of
Pharaohs Host before his Overthrow.
Those Troops which did before
Baal-Zephon shine,
Must vail their lustre when compar'd to thine:
verse 10 Whilst jewels, like the blushing flow'rs in
May,
Adorn thy Cheeks more fresh than they:
And thy bright Neck stands circled in
With wreaths of Gold beneath thy tender Chin.
verse 11 With Gold thy borders shall be crown'd,
And studs of Silver shall embrace thee round.
CHƲRCH.
verse 12 When in the midst of his Pavilion plac't
The King takes his repast,
By all the num'rous Armies grac't,
[Page 4] That brood an Oriental light
From
Michael to the meaner Might,
My Box of Spikenard do's its Odour send
In fragrant moistures, which return at last
With sweeter breath than they could ever lend.
Thus Odours are each others grace,
And Spikenard borrows scent from his perfuming Face.
verse 13 They are not all those choiser Smells
Which the rude
Indian or
Arabian sells:
verse 14 The Cypress, or those Breathings shed
Twixt
Zephyr and
Engeddi's spicie bed,
Can equalize that passionate delight
We find betwixt each others breasts all night.
CHRIST.
verse 15 Behold (my blest Companion) thou art fair,
Thine eyes with those of Doves compare.
CHƲRCH.
verse 16 But thine far more resplendent are.
How pleasant art thou seen
Upon our beds of Green,
Whose Odours far exceed the sweets of Myrrh!
verse 17 Our beams are Cedar, and our rafters Firr.
CHAP. II.
CHRIST.
verse 1 WOuld you the Rose of
Sharon see
Spreading his Virgin Colours to the Sun
(When he has almost half his Circuit run)
[Page 5] Op'ning his untoucht lips to kiss that ray
By whom he do's his leaves display?
'Tis I am he.
Or the fair Lily of the lower ground
(
Shoshannah) with more glories crown'd
Than those with which the mighty Kings appear
In the great Triumphs of the year?
You have him here.
verse 2 As the chast Lily, which from Tempest torn,
With a beseeming blush renews it pride,
Tho' compast round with an unfruitful thorn,
And all the Forest-Brakes beside;
Such is my
Bride,
When plac't amidst the Virgin Quire:
So fairly do her eyes appear,
So charming are her looks, so clear,
So gay, so pleasing her attire,
That whosoe're comes near
Must pant in flames, and languish in desire.
CHƲRCH.
verse 3 Compare the loaden Apple-tree
To those unthrifty Shrubs you see,
Those withered boughs, which too too long have stood
The scandal of the Wood,
Without the product of or Fair, or Good:
Such, such is he for whom my wounded heart
Resents a strange and lasting smart
Which vies with the Physicians Art.
I crept on (silent as the shades) for fear
It might offend him if he saw me near:
And loth I was a while to prove
My self Ambassadress of my own love:
[Page 6] But still his Beauty led me on;
Till heedless of the paces I had gone,
I came beneath his blessed shade
(Hid by a Gourd which kinder Love had made)
And reach't, and pluckt, and eat such fruits as never fade.
verse 4 At length he led me from the sacred place,
And with a Princely grace
(Lest I should surfeit with my New-got Fruit)
He gave me Wine, and taught me to digest:
He smil'd upon my suit,
And granted my request.
verse 5 Stay me with Wine, with Apples, Oh! for I
Am sick at heart, and if you help not, die!
verse 6 But see where the Physician stands
And reaches forth his aidful hands:
The one arm circles round my Bed,
Whilst t'other helps support the feeble head,
And Vails of Love are round about me spred.
CHRIST.
verse 7 I charge you (
Sions Daughters fair)
And you, whose Sires of
Salem were,
Within whose Borders Wars do cease
(Whilst
Jire constitutes a lasting Peace)
I charge you by the swift-pac't Roe
And by the Hinds which in your Pastures goe;
By all the brisker herds abroad
Who cross your interrupted Road;
If my Beloved slumb'ring lyes,
If softer sleep have lockt her tender Eyes,
You offer not to break her Ease
Or stir her from her pillow, till she please.
CHƲRCH.
[Page 7]
verse 8 Forth from the Hills a voice I hear,
Whose trembling Eccho strikes my tender Ear:
From Mountains top it reaches to the Plain,
Beat by the little Hillocks back again.
verse 9'Tis my Beloveds voice—How like a Deer
He skips, when the swift Enemies are near!
His glories at a distance fade,
And set, as in a shade:
He's only seen by halves, as plac't
Beside some Wall which early Time has ras't:
He creeps behind the Rev'rend Ruins; then
He shows himself, and so retires agen.
As through a Lattice we behold his Face,
Or darkly through the glass.
verse 10'Hear how he calls—Arise my Love,
'My Fair, my undefiled One,
'And let's be gone.
verse 11'The horrid Winters rage is past,
'And all its fury spent at last,
'Whilst
Zephyr softly creeps along,
'(Weak in himself, but in his Odours strong)
'The Clouds in dismal blackness cease to fly,
'They're all grown white,
'Empti'd and thinn'd by an ore-pow'ring light:
'Those subtil Cisterns are all dry,
And slowly wave beneath a lovely sky.
verse 12'The Spring do's in her Virgin dress appear;
'And blushing ushers in the Youthful Year.
'Those Embrions which the frost did once intomb,
'And held with icy chains within the womb,
'Now peep out of their clods again,
'Brought forth by a successful rain.
[Page 8] 'The Trees rejoyce, they clap their hands and sing,
'And yield their buds to the Officious Spring.
'The feather'd Quire in
Chorus mix their notes,
'And chant aloud with uninstructed throats.
'The loving
Turtle (well compar'd to me)
'Calls out, and woes his Mate from yonder Tree.
'They flourish in their infant Green,
'And every where a New Creation's seen.
verse 13'The Vine puts forth its tender bud,
'And bids defiance to the Winters flood.
'A fragrant smell, a glorious shew,
'Attend our steps wher'ere we go.
'Arise, my Love, and make no stay,
'My Fairest haste, and come away,
'The Eastern Herald has proclaim'd the day.
CHRIST.
verse 14 O thou who with thy active wings
Mount'st up on high,
(Unmindful of these earthly things)
And hast a consecrated place
Immur'd with Rocks, wherein thou hid'st thy Face;
Let me thy Countenance descry:
Thy Face is Love, thy Voice is Melody.
verse 15 Take us the cunning Vermin which destroy
The spreading branch, the Gard'ners only joy:
Those little
Foxes, those who undermine
The Daughter Cluster, and the Mother Vine.
Our Vine has tender branches; O forbear,
Lest
Herods cruelty should harbour here,
And
Rachel shed an unresented tear.
CHƲRCH.
[Page 9]
Whilst thou remainest, O thou Fair,
verse 16. 17. Amidst the Lilies where thy Pastures are,
(The Lilies once than Snow more white,
But now scarce pale before so great a light)
About each others necks we twine,
Until the wisht for day
Has chas't the shades away:
I'm his, and my Beloved's mine.
Haste thee from
Bether like the nimble Hart:
Bether which
Jordan do's from
Jury part.
CHAP. III.
CHƲRCH.
verse 1 'TWas dark, the Orbs withdrew their light;
The Sullen Moon obscur'd her head;
A melancholique gloomy night,
(The most unhappy relict of a day
In which the nighted Traveller could stray)
When over-charg'd with passions on my bed,
And fraight with fear,
I sought my Love, but he was fled;
I call'd aloud and knockt, but no one near.
verse 2 Must then (said I) a wretched, helpless, poor,
Distressed Lover thus give o're?
Are all these breathings spent in Vain?
I'le wander out, and call again;
Sure he will pity, since he made the pain.
[Page 10] I'le haste, and bend my pace
Unto the holy place,
Whither the Tribes go up to bless
The Testament of Holiness:
How know I what may there be done?
'Twas there the
Blessed Virgin found her
Son.
Perhaps we once again may meet
Amidst some crooked silent Street,
Whilst thus he wanders up and down
The by-
Maeanders of the Town.
'Tis but for once to try;
Or if he is withdrawn, I'le trace
His footsteps to some wider place,
Or seek him out if nigh.
Ah! so I panting did,
But found him not, for he was hid:
Hid from the reach of purblind Natures Eye,
Which takes no species from the Deity.
verse 3 Next to the wakeful Guardians of the night
(The Watchmen of the Sacred Tower
Arm'd with his Sword, and guarded with his power)
I took my humble flight.
Tell me, O can you tell, (said I)
When he past by?
Can no good Oracle declare
How he demeans himself, and where.
But they were all grown dumb:
Then sure, said I,
Messias must be come.
verse 4 Just thus it was; my fancied bliss
Prov'd true; I heard a voice, 'twas his:
When straight I caught him in my Arms,
And held him fast; (successful were my Charms)
Till through the private passages we went,
And came into my Mothers Tent:
[Page 11] That Tent in which th'
Almighty once did give
That life to her who gave me life to live.
verse 5 You Daughters of
Jerusalem,
I charge you by the Roes, the Hinds; by them
To whom ye frankly yield
The ample Pastures of your floury field,
That when my best Beloved slumbring lies,
Ye cease to chase the shadow from his Eyes.
Beside his Temples let a Vail be spred;
And Banners circle round his head.
CHRIST.
verse 6 What distant object from the fruitless brest
Of the wild Desart crowns the Plain?
It flies in Triumphs ore the fields
Perfum'd with Myrrh, with Frankincense; the best
Of Odours which the Drugster yields;
Like some new rising clouds of rain.
verse 8 See where a Princely Banner stands,
Held up by threescore Heroes mighty hands,
Girt with their Swords, and fit for fight,
Zamzummims, Chieftains of the night,
Apt to pursue, but not to take a flight.
verse 9 Thus
Selomoh go's bravely on,
Guarded with beams of
Lebanon;
Beams of those Cedars which so fairly stood
The daring glories of the Wood;
But now grown more Majestick by their fall,
Than when they flourisht green and tall.
verse 10 The Columns form'd of Silver stand,
(Cut out by some
Bezaleel's hand)
On a firm basis of the purest Gold
Which
Ophir boasted of, of old;
[Page 12] Sheltred beneath a purple Shrine:
(Purple once common, now Divine)
And lest defiance should be seen above,
The Motto underneath was
LOVE.
Love for the fairest Damsels; Love for them
Who love the Daughters of
Jerusalem.
verse 11 Haste, haste, ye Sacred Quire,
Ye hopeful darlings of old
Sions breast,
See
Selomoh clad in his best attire;
'Tis a Triumphing day; th' Espousal Feast,
More Solemn, more observ'd than all the rest:
A day in which his aged Matron spred
Her Arms about his youthful head;
Blest him with all the blessings from above,
And gladly did impart
The largess of a Mothers heart;
Crown'd him with Diadems, and sheltred him with Love.
CHAP. IV.
CHRIST.
verse 1 HOw lovely are those eyes, thou Fair,
Which from the circles of thy hair
Pierce the thin Vails of interambient air?
What sprightly Beauties from that sacred Shrine
Do we behold? compar'd to thine
Doves eyes are dull: the lustre's all divine.
Whilst thy disshevel'd locks are whither far
Than
Gileads new-washt fleeces are:
verse 2 Beneath whose tresses, studs of pearl display
Their light, like Stars plac't near the Milky-way;
[Page 13] Which in a Semicircle stand,
Set in due distance by th'
Almighties hand:
More white than wool, more glorious than the throng
Of Ews when all are big with young.
verse 3 Thy melting Speech with a beseeming grace
Flows from thy lips, where Scarlet spred
Reflects upon thy Face
A fainter Virgin Red,
Which to thy lofty Temples makes a way
As blushing mornings hasten to the day.
Those Temples which at distance seen
Are like Pomegranats ripen'd from the Green.
verse 4 Thy neck's a Fortress of a greater power
Than ere was
David's warlike Tower;
A thousand Bucklers ther were spred
(Shields for the breast, and Armour for the head)
Little enough to stop the fretful foe:
But when thou dost thy Beauty shew,
Unto thy Trophies all must yield
And quit the Field;
Thine Arrows wound the heart, and pierce the stoutest shield.
verse 5 Two vast supporting hills of snow
Maintain this Castle's foot below;
The youthful breasts which like two Twins appear,
(Roes of the self same year)
Roes which amidst the Lilies stray
verse 6 Until the shades are chas't away
And the pale Morn'-star ushers in the day.
Up to the mountains height
I'l take my flight,
And view those Pastures which dispense
The sweets of Myrrh and Frankincense.
verse 7 If from the days in which thou first didst place
Thy trembling foot on
Aaron's rev'rend head,
I thy descent unto these times should trace;
[Page 14] Tho round about thee there were spred
So many garments roll'd in Red
(Dipt in that blood on which the Martyrs fed)
No spot▪ no wrinkle would be seen:
Thou bloom'st afresh, and art for ever green.
verse 8 Haste thee from
Lebanon, no more to dwell
In
Lebanon, tho of so sweet a smell.
Look from
Amana's clouded height,
Shenir and
Hermon, Hills of might,
(The glories of the
Amorite;)
Judea's narrow Confines are too small;
(Tho there was the
Messiahs Birth)
Hear a rebounding call
Eccho'd from th' utmost Caverns of the Earth,
From Lions dens, and from the treacherous Cell
Of those rude beasts which in the Desart dwell.
What new, what unaccustom'd smart
Possesses this my Captiv'd heart!
A strange insinuating flame
(That found a Conquest wheresoere it came)
Ha's scatter'd in its powerful heat,
And here it acts as in its proper seat:
One of her chains, one of my Sisters Eyes
Have bound me fast, and rendred me her prize.
If One of these so much could do,
How should I be subdu'd, and overcome by Two!
If this small Glimps be such, then what shall be
The Blisses of Eternity!
verse 10 Sister and Spouse in one Combine
To kindle flames, and render 'em Divine,
Flames of a nobler heat than those of Wine.
Whilst near those Milky Paps above,
Those famous Treasuries which sed
The scatter'd Sheep before their
Pan was dead,
Dodim appears, and Metonymick Love.
[Page 15]
verse 11 O thou by sacred ties
To me so closely knit,
When thou dost thy best Oracles declare
By Priests, and not by murmuring air,
To thy soft voice the mystick Wit
Of busie Spirits, and of gentile Lies
Must with their flatteries submit.
So healing are thy words, so calm
When thou the pious heart dost meet,
That tears of Balm
Or drops of Hony are not half so sweet.
verse 12 Thou like a Garden fresh dost stand
(A plat of
Palaestina's Land)
Fenc't and encircled by th'
Almighties hand.
Fenc't from the subtil Fox, and ranging Bore,
Who'ld overturn the wall, or undermine the door:
Within whose borders we behold
A Fountain fairer than the Springs of old
Made for the Nations Weal,
But shut from Beasts by the great Gard'ners Seal:
Those Beasts who their ungodly pastime take
In striving how to mud the Christal Lake.
verse 13. 14, 15. See where the streams with silent murmur creep
And steal in by-
Maeanders from the Deep;
Till (safe in covert passages) they breath
Their subtil moysture from beneath;
Unmindful of the paces they have gone,
From
Carmel, from the top of
Lebanon:
Their Donor's frank, and they are tree;
As they receive they give;
By them the Spikenard and the Cypress-tree,
Pomegranats, and the Saffron live:
Alike their Bounties they dispense
To Myrrh, to Aloes, and the Frankincense.
CHƲRCH.
[Page 16]
verse 16 Haste, my Beloved, haste,
And when thou dost of these thy Dainties taste,
O let thy Glory shine
Upon this Fountain, and these Shades of thine!
Then shall the North-wind wake, the South-wind blow,
And from these beds the balmy Spices flow.
CHAP. V.
CHRIST.
verse 1 FRom the Almighty Seat above,
As boundless as the Great
Jehovah's Love,
My Fathers Beatifick breast,
Where thou must shortly (when Triumphant) rest,
I thy Beloved, guarded with a Quire
Of Angels, with an Host of fire
To give thine Enemies their doom,
Am to my Garden, to my Sister come.
I've cropt my Myrrh, and pluckt my fill
From every Spicy quill:
I've eat my hony, and have made a Feast
Upon the Treasures of thy Milky breast.
You who with famine pine,
Or by tradition fast
From untaught Sires, who never understood
The virtue of a thing or sweet or good,
Come, come, and take a full repast,
The Feast forbids a modest taste.
A mighty Feast made up of things Divine,
Hony with Milk, Milk mingled with Wine.
CHƲRCH.
[Page 17]
verse 2 The Gates were shut, the Prison close,
And every Captive took his soft repose;
The stretcht-out Arms, which lately did complain
Of slavery in vain,
Now seem'd to clasp a breast
Made up of liberty and rest.
But this was but a fanci'd sleep;
(Grief, like to Water, silent is when deep)
For in my dreams the heat of Love
(Like Vapours cloyster'd in the chilly Earth,
And strugling for a Birth,)
Insensibly began to move:
My wakeful heart did only panting lie
Beneath the Covert of a clos'd up Eye;
Whilst from below I seem'd to hear
(As tho the Souls knew how to woo,
And had a cunning Language too)
A fainting voice, which hardly reacht mine ear.
CHRIST.
'Sister awake, what from above,
'Mine undefiled One, my Love,
'No voice! or is her Charity
'More cold than I!
'I'le call again—What from above,
'Sister awake, arise my Dove,
'Unbar the clos'd up doors, and see
'Who 'tis that calls and knocks so loud: 'Tis he
'Who drawn by thine ore-powring Arms
'Has marcht the Desart from afar,
'Without the conduct of one happy Star:
[Page 18] 'Undaunted ventur'd all the spight
'Of Wind, of Storm, and of a gloomy Night;
'And tempted more than common harms
'To find a Shelter in thy tender Arms.
'And canst thou pass these Hazards by
'With so small Love, and so much Cruelty?
'See how the curl'd, and well compacted hair
'Fan'd by fresh gales, and mov'd by milder air,
'Now hangs disshevel'd by the Tempest torn,
'And on my Locks the Evening dews are born.
CHƲRCH.
verse 3 But these Expostulations were in vain:
I laid me down to sleep again.
Alas; my cast-off coat was folded by,
My new-washt feet were scarcely dry:
Should I defile them then? what boot to rise,
And chase that sleep that had but seiz'd my eyes?
verse 4 Yet he endeavour'd still, and prest the more
Upon the stubborn door:
When straight (the check of mine ingrateful Love)
A sudden qualm did in my bowels move.
Oh how I sight! my swoln-up heart
Was big with Passion; and upbraiding smart
Strook thro my panting breast,
Who for a sleepless rest
Had sold the bounties of so fair a Guest.
verse 5 At length I gave my slumbers ore,
And marcht thro darkness to the wonted place
Where Lovers met, where Lovers do embrace;
But mist the entry to the door.
Alas! my Breast, tho all a flame,
Could give no light
To guide me in the depth of night,
[Page 19] Until a cloud of Odours came,
Sent from his graceful fingers, such
Which tho the fainter reliques of a touch
Imprest upon the lock, were sweeter far
Than
Gilead's balms, or
India's Spices are.
verse 6 Then I unbar'd the doors—Whose there? What Guest
(Said I) that interrupts my rest?
No voice, but all was silent as the night,
For he had newly took his flight.
Oh how I trembling stood!
No Tongue can tell the smart
That seiz'd my heart
Under the swift recoilment of the blood:
I stood and call'd, and call'd, but all in vain,
The very Eccho scarce return'd again.
verse 7 Then more than pale with bashful fear,
Unarm'd, ungirt, unblesst,
I roam'd abroad to meet the wandring Guest:
But straight the busie Watch drew near;
From whose stern looks I pity did implore:
And when a storm of sighs
Had tied my Tongue that it could plead no more,
Begg'd silent pity with my weeping Eyes,
Then stopt, and woo'd again: but all
Their pity was but Wormwood mixt with Gall.
O how they checkt my folly, how they strove
Each to upbraid my but pretended Love!
[Unhappy Hypocrite, thy crime
Was soon found out; the darkest night,
Th' obscurest time
Exposes that as quickly as the light.]
But this was but the first degree
Of their inhuman Cruelty;
For when I ventur'd on to plead my Cause,
[Page 20] And little fear'd, but that a weak
And helpless Woman might have leave to speak;
Instead of Reason, and of equal Laws,
They answer'd me with Wounds to every Clause:
Which when I strove to close again,
(Lest the sad Weather should augment my pain)
And bind up with my Vail (the height
Of their unmanly spight!)
They ravisht that away by an ore-powring might.
Unhappy Soul, who'l pity thee
In depth of all thy misery?
I once the Peoples joy, am now their scorn,
By my best friends, nay by my Love forlorn:
Can this black midnight ere expect a morn!
verse 8 I turn'd to
Sions Daughters then
To see if Women were more kind than Men:
I charge you, O ye Fair (said I)
If my Beloved passes by,
You tell him how I lye
Wounded, and at the point to die.
Tell him—Oh tell him this:
And much, much more—But yet above
The rest, the deepest Wound was his,
And I am sick of Love.
CHORƲS. Daughters of Sion.
verse 9 What's thy Beloved, O thou Fair?
With whom may he compare?
What's thy Beloved more than others are?
What is he more, Fairest of Queens, than them
Who bear the glories of
Jerusalem?
Are his Encomiums so large,
That thus thou giv'st so strict a charge?
What is he? Speak—
CHƲRCH.
[Page 21]
verse 10 —Should you but trace
The Beauties of his goodly Face,
And see how strangely they are spred
Betwixt the White and Red,
(Parted by light, not by a shade)
The Lilies would appear but pale, and fade,
Like bashful Stars before the rising Sun,
And Roses blush to see their Red out-done.
If thousands, nay ten thousand Loves you see,
Of all the rest you'l tell me,
This is he.
verse 11 His lofty Head is fairer to behold
Than
Ophyrs Treasures were of old,
Or
Babylonish Dura's Gold.
Round which his black curl'd locks are set,
Which in their circles fitly met
Make him appear like
Or begirt with
Jet.
verse 12 His Eyes are Doves Eyes, fair and bright
With watry clearness, and with milky White:
From whose transparent balls the flashes fly
Swifter than Lightning darted thro the Skie.
verse 13 By whose blest rays the Spices grow
Upon his Cheeks, where's seen a lasting Day
With flowr's more fresh, more gay
Than those in
May;
And from his Lips the fragrant Oyntments flow.
verse 14 His Hands are like to rings of Gold, beset
With
Tarshish; [
Ashers Crysolite]
His Belly's like to Ivory ore-laid
With Sapphyrs, white and blew display'd.
verse 15 His Leggs are two Supporters, which uphold
These structures; Marble Pillars rimm'd with Gold.
[Page 22] His looks are like to
Lebanon, but far
More glorious than those Cedars are.
verse 16 When he the pious Votary do's meet
His Mouth's most sweet:
From whence a stream of Rhetorick flow's; such Speech
As seems at once to threaten and beseech.
He's altogether lovely, this is he:
Him if you haply see,
Good
Sions Daughters send him home to me.
CHAP. VI.
CHORƲS. Daughters of Sion.
verse 1 WHither is thy Beloved gone?
Speak, Fairest of thy Sex, that we
May seek him too; 'tis ill to walk alone.
What dark, what unfrequented place
Can hide the Glories of so fair a Face?
Let's march along: The Traveller may see
(Tho now he wanders in obscurity)
That brightness which the Sun a while do's shroud,
(Before 'tis Set) tho from a distant Cloud.
CHƲRCH.
verse 2 —Alas! I've wandred up and down
This glorious but ingrateful Town.
I've sought him sighing, big with care,
Yet met with nothing but Despair:
And with my nimble feet
Have measur'd out each space,
Trod every Street
Of this unthankful place.
[Page 23] No Watchman but has heard my woful call
Rebounding from the circuit of the Wall.
But all in vain.
Who now shall
Sions praises Sing?
(
Sion too proud to entertain the King.)
He's gone down to the Plain
(Humble and meek) to view the Plants below,
Brought forth by a successful rain;
Those pleasant Valleys where the Spices grow:
To gather Lilies, and to spend his hours
Amongst the dew-bespangled flowers.
verse 3 —But my Beloved's only mine, and I am his:
He feeds beneath a shrine
Of Lilies, where the Banquet's all Divine.
CHRIST.
verse 4 See, my Beloved, thou art Fair,
More beautiful than
Tirzah's Turrets are;
(
Tirzah where Grandsire-Princes us'd to sing
The praises of their King:)
The Sons of
Sion shall no more admire
The Hill of
Jebus in its best attire.
But whilst these Troops of Beauty shine so bright,
They're mixt with, not ore-powr'd by might:
And tho so terrible, the World may see
(Tho 'tis alone in thee)
True Love enthron'd in Majesty.
verse 5 Th' hast overcome me, O thou Fair;
Turn, turn away those pow'rful Eyes:
No need to conquer that which is thy Prize.
The Tresses of thy bright disshevel'd Hair
Are whiter than the milky Coats
Of
Gileads new-washt Goats.
[Page 24]
verse 6 Thy well-set Teeth in equal order stand,
No one that's injur'd in a throng;
The Ews that graze in
Palaestina's ground
Are not so comely when they'r big with young:
When from the Silver streams they've drawn their fill,
And sunn'd their Fleeces in the Sacred Hill.
verse 7 Thy Temples, fraight with Modesty, are seen
To match Pomegranats when the blushing Red
Is fitly shed
Upon the chaster Green.
How glorious wilt thou once appear
In thy Triumphant Kingdom, who hast stood
So beautiful so lovely here
Amongst green wounds and garments roll'd in blood?
verse 8 And tho' the matchless spight
Of evil-will would swell to such a height
As to deprive thee of thy Golden bell,
And leave the fair Pomegranat but a shell;
Yet in thy borders Threescore Queens are fed,
And Fourscore Concubines do spred
Their Arms about the Bridal bed.
And tho so many Worthies have been slain,
Ten thousand Virgins Constitute thy Train.
verse 9 Let other Spouses to a right pretend,
'Tis only Thou that art my Friend;
Mine undefiled One, my Love,
The Daughter of
Jerusalem above.
The Wiser saw thee from a far,
And blest thee as the
Magi did the Star:
The Concubines in holy order cri'd,
Hail Queen of Nations; Hail, the Maids repli'd.
verse 10 Who's this whose Majesty surrounds the Earth,
Fair as the Morning from her purple Birth?
The darkned Sun's amaz'd; the Planets shroud
Their useless Light;
[Page 25] The Moon's confounded at the dreadful Sight,
Hiding her spotted horns behind a Cloud.
The frighted Orbs in fearful distance stand,
No longer turn'd by an ore-powring hand:
They neither Light nor Vertue can dispense,
But stand in need of greater Influence.
Thy Rays out-shine them all: th'art brighter far
Than burnisht Spears and warlike Banners are.
verse 11 But Feasted with so fair a shew,
Lest too much light
Should overcome the sight,
I hasted to the Vales below,
To see the new Plantations of my Bride,
(The Peoples scorn, but
Sions pride)
Those fruitful Vines, which by their senseless paces
Hug'd the sweet product of their soft Embraces:
To view the Nut-trees, and to know
How the Pomegranate did begin to grow.
verse 12'Twas but a moment ere
My heedless Soul had been aware:
But overcome with the Surprizing Sight
(Unable to remain a Guest
Where so much Plenty made so great a Feast)
I took me to my flight.
Amazement added Wings unto my heels,
The swiftest Gale of Wind;
Aminadab himself was left behind,
And his hot Chariot-wheels.
verse 13 Return, return, O
Shulamite,
That we may see the goodly sight
Of
Selomoh, and the
Shulamite.
What would you see in her and him?
The goodly Forces of
Mahanaim.
CHAP. VII.
CHRIST.
verse 1 HOw Beautiful are those thy feet
Shod with the Preparation of the Word,
Thou Daughter of the mighty Lord,
Espoused to his only Son
Before he put his fleshy Garments on!
How fairly dost thou tread the Stage
Of every froward Street
In this unluckie latter Age
Of thy distressed Pilgrimage!
The well-compacted juncture of thy Thighs
(By which the once divided Train
Of
Jew and
Gentile meet again)
Is made with Jewels of no common price;
Whilst Prophets, Pastors, Teachers all combine
To close the Sacred Tye, and render it Divine.
verse 2 Thy Navel's like a Mazer fill'd
With Consecrated Water; whence
The New-born Child
Receives a newer Influence:
By that blest Lover he is born again,
And all the former Enmities are slain.
Thy Belly like an heap of Corn appears
(The lasting Food of ancient years)
Beset with Lilies [
Innocency best
Befits a Loving Feast.]
That Treasury which all along has fed
Thy Proselytes with Sacramental Bread.
verse 3 Thy Breasts in equal Harmony consent,
The
Old with the
New-Testament.
[Page 27]
verse 4 Thy Neck like an Eternal Tower
Supports the higher roof, and crowns the lower.
Thine Eyes are fair to look upon,
Clear as the Streams of
Heshebon;
Where poor
Bath-rabbim quits her self of fears,
And dews her Cheeks with penitential tears.
Thy Nose is lifted to the skie,
Fixt on those Stars to which of late
Messias mounted up in State:
The Spire of
Lebanon is not so high,
Which points where
Syria's chiefest City stood,
Whilst poor
Damascus heard the cry
Of injur'd
Abel's blood.
verse 5 Thy lofty Head is fairer to behold
Than the
Phoenicians pride,
Or what they boasted of beside
Height
Carmel was of old.
Whose Crest an Host of
Martyrs do adorn,
Like some bright Cloud dropt from the purple Morn:
Kings are encircled in it, and above
In a Triumphant Seat appears the God of Love.
verse 6 How Fair, how Glorious is that Sight
Which charms the Eyes with new delight,
And treats the curious Appetite!
verse 7 Thou like the goodly Palm art seen
(Tho compast round with weights, and all
Those Plagues which would fore-run anothers fall,)
To spred thy boughs, and crown thy self with green.
Under these Shades thy Breasts appear
Like Grapes ith' Noon-tide of the year.
verse 8'Twas but a while ere I resolv'd to see
The goodly Tree;
But straight each branch began to bow the head,
And beckon me to a ne're-fading bed.
[Page 28] Thy Breasts are like two clusters of the Vine,
Where Milk is sweetly mingled with Wine.
verse 9 The words which from thy Palate do escape
Are sweeter than the
Canaanitish Grape;
Of which thy Best-beloved drinks his fill,
And draws new Oracles from every Quill.
CHƲRCH.
verse 10 Thus I am his; and thus you see
How his desires are center'd all in me.
verse 11 Arise my Love, the Morning's Fair,
The Day-star sinks before a greater light
Than that by which it travell'd all the night.
Let's view the fields, and feast in brisker air:
Those little Villages which heretofore
Were humble, destitute and poor,
Shall now lift up their Turrets, blest
And fitted for so fair a Guest.
verse 12 Unto the Gardens we'l direct our way;
The once despised Pastures of the Plain
(From which the wealthy travell'd in disdain)
Shall now the Summers Garb display
In green and purple fresh and gay,
Under a never-ending day.
Amidst Pomegranats and the Vines, I'le yield
Each Vow that I have made;
And every Shade
Shall be a Witness in the blooming Field.
verse 13 The
Mandrakes give a lovely Smell,
Balsam beneath our Gates do's dwell;
Where well-replenisht baskets hold
The Bounties of the former year,
And Treasures of the old.
All sorts of Sweets are here,
Which minds not how to gratifie again.
CHAP. VIII.
CHƲRCH.
verse 1 O That thou wouldst in human Shape appear,
And dwell as one of these my Brethren here
That thou wouldst rend the Firmament above,
And from an Everlasting Throne
Descend in State
To conquer this unruly Fate,
And take possession of thine own!
How Sweetly would we kiss,
How great should be the Bliss
That Crown'd a Brothers and a Sisters Love!
verse 2 I'd lead thee with mine hand, mine arm
Should shelter thee from harm.
I'd bring thee to my Mothers house, that shade
Which
Sion for her Honour made:
Amidst those Mansions we would stay
Till thou hadst taught me how to Pray,
And offer up what thou do'st ne'r despise,
An humble Heart, a lively Sacrifice.
Under that Consecrated Shrine
I'd treat thee with my Spiced Wine;
Where Grapes with the Pomegranate prest
Should make a Sacramental Feast.
verse 3 Thy left hand (new increase
Of Honour, Wealth and Peace)
[Page 30] Should like a never-fading Garland spred
It's tutelary Guardship round my head.
Thy right hand should embrace my Heart,
And Crown the Intellectual part.
All Treasures should be ours; the choisest things
Of th' upper and the nether-Springs.
verse 4 I charge you, O ye Branches of the Stem
Of old
Jerusalem;
I charge you by your Modesty, nay more,
By all that's Good, by all that you adore,
If my Beloved slumbring lies:
If deep,
If unaccustom'd Sleep
Has shut his wakeful Eyes;
You pass by gently, lest an ill-bred noise
Should chase away his interrupted joys.
CHORVS. Daughters of Jerusalem.
verse 5 Who's this that hastens from the rude
Inhospitable Multitude?
And leaves the Wilderness a more
Unhappy Desart than it was before?
See how she-leans on her Beloveds Breast,
And in the midst of travail finds a rest!
CHƲRCH.
'Tis I am she,
Who rais'd thee from beneath the Apple-tree.
There where thy Mother brought thee forth, to tread
Upon the crooked Serpents head.
[Page 31]
verse 6 O set me as a Seal upon thine Heart,
Beyond the reach of undermining Art.
Place me as thou wouldst place a Sacred tie
Upon thine Arm, for
Jealousie
Is unrelenting as the Grave;
Bitter as Death: Like an insulting Wave
Beat by the stubborn Tempest from the Sound,
It still recoils the more
'Tis tost upon the shore,
Till in its lawful scope it overflows the bounds.
Like an aspiring flame
That left destruction wheresoe're it came,
It marches on with full Success,
And flies in Triumph ore the Wilderness.
verse 7 No Waters can allay the heat of Love:
Tho all the num'rous Fountains from above,
And every nether-Spring should creep
To joyn in private with th' unfathom'd Deep:
The mighty Lakes should all their Treasures yield,
And March their Forces to the watry field:
Tho Seas were heapt on Seas, and every flood
In open and offensive posture stood:
Their Prowess would appear but small,
This Fire from Heav'n would soon consume them all.
If with a fair impartial hand
You bring the Bounties of the flowry Land;
All the Creator did produce
For Human use,
And fix them in the trembling Scale; They'l prove
Less ponderous than Love.
verse 8 We have a little Sister far abroad,
That knows not us; a stranger to her God:
[Page 32] An innocent, an uninstructed Maid,
By Ignorance and blinded Zeal betray'd.
Good Brother speak, what Argument shall we
Propose, to tempt her from Idolatry?
She never heard of trembling
Sinai's flame,
Or knows she whence Prophetick Visions came.
Alas! she has no Breasts
To entertain her Guests:
And she her self is pin'd; a longer stay
Amidst her empty husks may make her faint away.
CHRIST.
verse 9'Why thus we'l do: My Fathers house is large,
'His Tables stand
'Throng'd with the Treasures of a bounteous hand:
'There she may fairly taste
'Or (if she please) may take a full repast
'Without or cost or charge.
If her Foundation's fit for
Sions Towers,
The silver Superstructure shall be Ours.
If she be strong enough to bear't, we'll press
The deepest Mystery of Godliness.
But if the barren Desart left her more
A feeble Virgin than she was before,
We'll lead her to a Sacramental door,
And shew her where Religion's Basis stands;
Why the
Messias must be slain
By ruder
Jews, and by the
Gentiles hands.
There we may boldly tell
The tiding of
Immanuel:
And then (lest haply she revolt again)
We'll there Baptize her and her num'rous Train.
[Gentile Church.]
[Page 33]
verse 10 I once was Ignorant and Young;
The Common-Law of Nature was my Guide:
'Twas then I had no Breast,
'Twas then I went aside.
But now can humbly hear a Teachers Tongue.
Whilst thus I spake, and with a blush confest
My
Gentile Folley, all the famous Lies
The Learned could devise;
He smiling pittid them, and granted my request.
CHƲRCH.
verse 11 King
Solomon to shew the matchless height
Of Glory, Splendour and Delight,
Prepar'd a Sacred place
Which he himself might grace:
A Vineyard 'twas, encircled with a Wood,
Not far from
Salem, where
Baal-Hamon stood:
But this he let to Keepers, who should bring
A thousand pieces for an offering.
CHRIST.
verse 12 My Vineyard's only mine; 'Tis I am he
That looks to that: My shoulders bear
The Summers Toyl, and heave the Winters care.
But,
Solomon, to thee
The Sacred Court pays tribute, whilst they bring
Two hundred pieces to the Priests, one thousand to the King.
CHƲRCH.
verse 13 O Thou that dwellest in that Sacred shade
Which for the living Soul at first was made,
[Page 34] But now the quickning Spirits choice;
Whilst all thy blest Companions hear thy Voice,
O let not me with slothful Ear
Pass by regardless and unapt to hear!
verse 14 Haste, my Beloved, haste; how long shall we
Wait for the promis'd
Jubilee?
And when thou rend'st the Skie,
With such a speed on thy wing'd Chariots flie,
That the chas'd Roe-buck with his Wounds
May seem to Travel slowly from the Hounds;
And on the Spicy Hills the Hart may be
No more the Pattern of Agility.
FINIS.
Errata.
Page 5. line 10. its. pag. 13. l. 24. thy. pag. 19. l. 6. Who's. pag. 32. l. 29. Tidings