[Page] DIVINE POEMS. By EDMOND WALLER Esq
LICENSED, Octob. 3. 1685. Rob. Midgley.
In the Savoy: Printed for Henry Herringman; and are to be sold by Jos. Knight and Fran. Saunders, at the Sign of the Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange in the Strand. 1685.
OF Divine Love.
6. CANTO'S.
- 1. ASserting the authority of the Scripture, in which this Love is reveal'd.
- 2. The preference and Love of God to man in the Creation.
- 3. The same Love more amply declared in our redemption.
- 4. How necessary this Love is to reform Mankind, and how excellent in it self.
- 5. Shewing how happy the World would be if this Love were universally embrac'd.
- 6. Of preserving this Love in our memory, and how useful the contemplation thereof is.
CANTO I.
THe Grecian Muse has all their Gods surviv'd
Nor Jove 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
Helicons Imagin'd Spring,
But sacred Writ, we borrow what we Sing:
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.
[Page 5] As late Philosophy our Globe has grac'd,
And rowling Earth among the Plannets plac'd,
So has this Book intitl'd us to Heav'n,
And rules to guide us to that Mansion giv'n:
Tells the conditions, how our Peace was made,
And is our Pledge for the great Authors aid;
His Power in nature's ampler Book we find,
But the less Volume does express his mind;
This Light unknown, bold
Epicurus taught,
That his blest Gods vouchsafe us not a thought,
But unconcern'd, let all below them slide,
As fortune do's, or humane wisdom, guide.
Religion thus remov'd, the sacred Yoke,
And band of all Society is broke:
What use of Oaths, of Promise, or of Test,
Where men reguard no God but Interest?
What endless War would Jealous Nations tear,
If none above, did witness what they swear?
[Page 6] 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, t'wards being good, or wise;
For thô with Judgment we on things reflect,
Our Will determines, not our Intellect;
Slaves to their Passion, Reason men imploy,
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;
For thô Heaven shows the Glory of the Lord,
Yet something shines more Glorious in his Word,
His mercy this (which all his work excells)
His tender kindness, and compassion tells,
While we inform'd by that Celestial Book,
Into the Bowels of our Maker look.
[Page 7] 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.
CANTO II.
THe fear of Hell, or ayming to be Blest,
Savours 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 Hell descends,
To save and make his Enemies his Friends:
What line of Praise can fathom such a Love,
Which reacht the lowest bottom from above?
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;
[Page 8] Heav'n was scarce heard of, until he came down
To make the Region, where love triumphs, known;
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 dispos'd of, 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 Palace 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 Heaven, and give each Star a name,
With Art and Courage the rough Ocean tame;
[Page 9] Over the Globe, with swelling Sails might go,
And that 'tis round, by his experience know,
Make strongest Beasts obedient to his Will,
And serve his use, the fertile Earth to Till.
When by his Word, God had accomplisht all,
Man to Create, he did a Council call;
Imploy'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; but above all
His grace abounds, in his new favorites fall.
If he Create, it is a World he makes;
If he be ang'ry, the Creation shakes;
[Page 10] From his just wrath our guilty Parents fled,
He curst the Earth, but bruis'd the Serpents head.
Amidst the storm, his bounty did exceed,
In the rich promise of the Virgins seed;
Thô Justice death, a satisfaction craves,
Love finds a way to pluck us from our Graves.
CANTO III.
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 could not let him live;
Legions of Angels, which he might have us'd,
For us resolv'd to perish, he refus'd;
[Page 11] While they stood ready to prevent his loss,
Love took him up, and nayl'd him to the Cross.
Immortal Love, which in his Bowels reign'd,
That we might be, by such a Love constrain'd
To make return of Love; upon this Pole
Our Duty does, and our Religion rowle.
To Love is to believe, to hope, to know,
'Tis an Essay, a taste of Heav'n below.
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.
Could we forbear dispute, and practice Love,
We should agree, as Angels do above;
Where Love presides; not Vice alone does find
No entrance there, but Vertues stay behind:
[Page 12] 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.
He that alone, would wise and mighty be,
Commands that others Love, as well as he:
Love as he Lov'd, how can we soare 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,
As man he suffer'd, and as God he taught;
Will for the deed he takes, we may with ease
Obedient be, for if we Love, we please;
Weak thô we are, to Love is no hard task,
And Love for Love, is all that Heav'n do's ask:
[Page 13] Love, that would all men just and temperate make,
Kind to themselves, and others, for his sake,
Tis 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.
CANTO IV.
TO Glory man, or misery is born,
Of his proud foe the Envy or the scorn;
Wretched he is, or happy in extreme,
Base in himself, but great in Heav'ns esteem;
With Love, of all created things, the best,
Without it more pernitious than the rest;
For greedy Wolves unguarded Sheep devour
But while their hunger lasts, and then give or'e;
Mans boundless Avarice his want exceeds,
And on his Neighbours, round about him, feeds;
[Page 14] His Pride, and vain Ambition are so vast,
That Deluge-like, they lay whole Nations wast;
Debauches and Excess, thô with less noise,
As great a portion of Mankind destroys.
The Beasts and Monsters, Hercules opprest,
Might in that Age, some Provinces infest;
These more destructive Monsters, are the bane
Of ev'ry Age and in all Nations reign;
But soon would vanish, if the World were blest
With Sacred Love, by which they are represt:
Impendent death, and guilt that threatens Hell,
Are dreadful guests, which here with mortals dwel,
And a vext Conscience mingling with their Joy
Thoughts of despair, do's their whole life annoy:
But Love appearing, all those Terrours fly,
We live contented, and contended dye;
They in whose brest, this sacred Love has place,
Death as a passage to their Joy embrace.
[Page 15] Clouds and thick vapours which obscure the day
The Suns Victorious 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 Sphear;
Of Heav'n the Joy, the Glory, and the Light,
Shines among Angels, and admits no night:
CANTO V.
THis Iron Age, so fraudulent and bold,
Toucht with this Love, would be an Age of Gold,
Not as they fain'd, that Oaks should hony drop,
Or land neglected bear an unsown Crop:
Love would make all things easy, safe, and cheap,
None for himself, would either sow, or reap:
Our ready help, and Mutual Love would yeild
A nobler Harvest, than the richest Field;
[Page 16] 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 sufferings less.
Who for himself no miracle would make,
Dispens'd with nature, for the peoples sake;
He that long fasting would no wonder show,
Made Loaves and Fishes, as they eat them, grow;
Of all his Power, 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.
Laws would be useless which rude nature awe,
Love changing nature, would prevent the Law;
[Page 17] Tygers, and Lyons, into Dens we thrust,
But milder Creatures with their freedom trust.
Divels are Chain'd, and tremble; but the spouse
No force but Love, nor bond, but bounty, knows:
Men, whom we now, so fierce and daing'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 prophecy'd, can do,
Exalt the Valleys, lay the Mountains low;
Humble the Lofty, the dejected raise,
Smooth, and make strait, our rough and crooked ways.
Love, strong as death, and like it, levels all,
With that possest, the great in Title fall;
Themselves esteem, 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;
[Page 18] Tame his wild Appetite, make inward peace,
And forrein strife among the Nations, cease;
No Martial Trumpet should disturb our rest,
Nor Princes arm, thô to subdue the East;
Where for the Tomb, so many Hero's, taught
By those that guided their Devotion, faught;
Thrice Happy we, could we like Ardor 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 selfs, as men,
All of one family; in blood ally'd,
His precious blood, that for our ransome dy'd:
CANTO VI.
THô the Creation, so divinely taught,
Prints such a lively Image in our thought,
[Page 19] 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 ev'ry week, might new occasion give,
To make his Triumph in their memory live.
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;
But though we find this Sacred Task too hard,
Yet the Design, th' endeavour brings Reward;
[Page 20] The Contemplation does 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 Theame while we our Muse engage,
[...] Wounds are felt, of Fortune, or of Age:
[...]
[...]e Love to Meditate is Peace,
[...] makes all care of meaner things to cease.
Amaz'd at once and comforted to find
A boundless Pow'r so infinitely kind;
The Soul contending to that light to fly
From
[...]er dark Cell, we practice how to dye;
Imploying 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 gone,
When from the
East the Rising Sun comes on.
[Page 21] Floriferis ut Apes in saltibus omnia libant,
Sic nos Scripturae depascimur aurea dicta;
Aurea perpetuâ semper dignissima vitâ.
Nam Divinus Amor, cum caepit vociferari,
Diffugiunt Animi Terrores:——
Lucr.
Exul eram, requies
(que) mihi, non Fama petita est,
Mens intenta suis ne foret us
(que) malis.
Nam
(que) ubi mota calent Sacrâmea Pectora Musâ,
Altior humano Spiritus ille malo est.
De Trist.
OF Divine Poesie.
Two Canto's, Occasioned upon sight of the 53d Chapter of Isaiah turn'd into Verse by Mrs. VVharton.
CANTO I.
POets we prize, when in their verse we find
Some great employment of a worthy mind.
Angels have been inquisitive to know
The secret, which this Oracle does show.
[Page 24] What was to come
Isaiah did declare,
Which she describes, as if she had been there;
Had seen the Wounds, which to the readers view,
She draws so lively, that they Bleed anew.
As Ivy thrives, which on the Oak takes hold,
So with the Prophets may her lines grow old,
If they should dye, who can the World forgive?
Such Pious Lines! When wanton Sapho's live.
Who with his Breath his Image did inspire,
Expects it should foment a Nobler fire:
Not Love which Brutes as well as Men may know,
But Love like his, to whom that Breath we owe.
Verse so design'd, on that high Subject wrote,
Is the Perfection of an ardent thought:
The Smoak which we from burning Incense raise,
When we compleat the Sacrifice of Praise.
In boundless verse the Fancy soars too high,
For any Object, but the Deity.
[Page 25] What Mortal can with Heav'n pretend to share
In the Superlatives of Wise and Fair?
A meaner Subject when with these we grace,
A Giants habit on a Dwarf, we place.
Sacred should be the product of our Muse,
Like that sweet Oyl, above all private use:
On pain of Death forbidden to be made,
But when it should be on the Altar laid.
Verse shows a rich inestimable Vein,
When drop't from Heav'n, 'tis thither sent again.
Of Bounty 'tis that he admits our Praise,
Which does not him, but us that yield it raise.
For as that Angel up to Heav'n did rise,
Born on the Flame of
Manoah's Sacrifice.
So wing'd with Praise, we penetrate the Sky,
Teach Clouds and Stars to praise him as we fly:
The whole Creation, by our fall made groan,
His Praise to Eccho, and suspend their Moan.
[Page 26] For that he reigns, all Creatures should rejoyce,
And we with Songs supply their want of voyce,
The Church Triumphant, and the Church below
In Songs of Praise a present Union show:
Their Joys are full, our expectation long;
In Life we differ, but we joyn in Song.
Angels, and we, assisted by this Art,
May Sing together, thô we dwell apart.
Thus we reach Heav'n, while vainer Poems must
No higher rise, than Winds may lift the Dust.
From that they spring; this from his breath that gave
To the first Dust, th'Immortal Soul we have,
His Praise well sung, our great endeavour here,
Shakes off the Dust, and makes that breath appear.
CANTO II.
HE that did first this way of Writing grace,
Converst with the Almighty face to face.
Wonders he did in sacred verse unfold,
When he had more than Eighty Winters told:
The Writer feels no dire effects of Age,
Nor verse that flows from so Divine a rage.
Eldest of Poets, he beheld the Light,
When first it triumph'd 'ore eternal Night.
Chaos he saw, and could distinctly tell
How that confusion into Order fell.
As if consulted with, he has exprest
The Work of the Creator and his rest.
How the floud drown'd the first offending Race,
Which might the figure of our Globe deface.
[Page 28] For new made Earth, so even and so fair,
Less equal now, uncertain makes the Air:
Surpriz'd with heat, and unexpected cold
Early distempers make our Youth look old.
Our Days so evil, and so few, may tell
That on the ruines of that World we dwell.
Strong as the Oaks that nourish't them, and high,
That long-liv'd Race did on their force rely,
Neglecting Heav'n: but we of shorter date,
Should be more mindful of impendent fate.
To Worms that crawle upon this Rubbish here,
This Span of Life may yet too long appear.
Enough to humble, and to make us great,
If it prepare us for a Nobler seat.
Which well observing, he in Numerous Lines,
Taught wretched man, how fast his Life declines:
In whom he dwelt, before the World was made,
And may again retire, when that shall fade.
[Page 29] The lasting Iliads have not live'd so long,
As his and
Deborah's triumphant Song.
Delphos unknown, no Muse could them inspire,
But that which governs the Coelestial Quire.
Heav'n to the Pious did this art reveal;
And from their store succeeding Poets steal.
Homer's
Scamand
[...]r for the
Trojans faught,
And swell'd so high, by her old
Kishon taught:
His River scarce could fierce
Achilles stay;
Hers more succesful, swept her Foes away.
The Hoast of Heav'n, his
Phaebus and his
Mars,
He Arms, instructed by her fighting Stars.
She led them all against the common foe:
But he misled by what he saw below,
The Powers above, like wretched men, divides,
And breaks their Union into different sides.
The Noblest parts which in his
Hero's shine,
May be but Copies of that Heroine.
The Writer could, and the Commander, be.
Truth she relates, in a sublimer strain
Than all the Tales the boldest Greek could feign.
For what she sung, that Spirit did indite,
Which gave her courage, and success in fight.
A double Garland Crowns the Matchless Dame;
From Heav'n her Poem, and her Conquest came.
Thô of the Jews she merit most esteem:
Yet here the Christian has the greater Theam.
Her martial song describes how
Sisera fell,
This sings our Triumph over Death and Hell.
The rising Light employ'd the sacred breath
Of the blest Virgin and
Elizabeth,
In Songs of Joy, the Angels sung his Birth:
Here, how he treated was upon the Earth
Trembling we read; th'affliction and the scorn,
Which for our Guilt, so patiently was born.
[Page 31] Conception, Birth, and suffering, all belong
Tho various Parts, to one Caelestial Song:
And She, well using so divine an art,
Has in this consort, Sung the Tragick part.
As
Hannah's seed was vow'd to sacred use,
So here this Lady consecrates her Muse.
With like reward may Heav'n her bed adorn,
With fruit as fair as by her Muse is born.
Of the Paraphrase on the Lords Prayer,
SIlence, you Winds, listen Etherial Lights,
While our
Urania sings what Heav'n indites;
The Numbers are the Nymphs, but from above
Descends the Pledge of that Eternal Love.
Here wretched Mortals have not leave alone,
But are instructed to approach his Throne;
And how can he to miserable Men
Deny Requests, which his own Hand did Pen?
In the Evangelists we find the Prose,
Which Paraphras'd by her a Poem grows;
A devout Rapture, so divine a Hymn,
It may become the highest Seraphim;
For they like her in that Coelestial Quire,
Sing only what the Spirit does inspire.
Taught by our Lord and theirs, with us they may
For all, but pardon for Offences, pray.
Some Reflections of his upon the several Petitions in the same Prayer.
I.
HIS sacred Name, with reverence profound,
Should mention'd be, and trembling at the sound,
It was
Jehovah, 'tis our Father now,
So low to us, does Heav'n vouchsafe to bow,
Brethren to him that taught us how to pray,
And did so dearly for our Ransom pay.
II.
His Kingdom come: For this we pray in vain,
Unless he does in our affections raign:
Absurd it were to wish for such a King,
And not Obedience to his Scepter bring.
III.
His Will be done; In fact 'tis always done,
But as in Heav'n, it must be made our own:
[Page 34] His Will should all our Inclinations sway,
Whom Nature and the Universe obey.
IV.
It is not what our Avarice hoards up,
'Tis he that feeds us, and that fills our Cup,
Like new-born Babes, depending on the Breast,
From day to day we on his Bounty feast;
Nor should the Soul expect above a day
To dwell in her frail Tenament of Clay:
The setting Sun should seem to bound our Race,
And the new day a gift of special Grace.
V.
That he should all our Trespasses forgive,
While we in hatred with our Neighbours live;
Though so to pray, may seem an easie task,
We curse our selves when thus inclin'd we ask:
This Prayer to use, we ought with equal care
Our Souls as to the Sacrament prepare:
The Noblest Worship of the Power above,
Is to extol, and imitate his Love:
[Page 35] Not to forgive our Enemies alone,
But use our Bounty that they may be won.
VI.
Guard us from all Temptations of the Foe,
And those we may in several stations know:
The Rich and Poor in slippery places stand,
Give us enough, but with a sparing Hand;
Not ill-perswading want, nor wanton Wealth,
But what proportion'd is to Life and Health:
For not the Dead, but Living sing thy Praise,
Exalt thy Kingdom, and thy Glory raise.
—Favete Linguis—
Virginibus Pueris
(que) Canto,
Horat.
FINIS.