WHERE is that foole philosophie,

That beldam reason, and that beast dull sence; Great God! when I consider thee, Omnipotent, æternall, and imens?

Vnmov'd thou didst behold the pride

Of th' angels, when they to defection fell?
And without passion didst provide,

To punish treason, rackes and death in hell.
Thy word created this great all,

I'th' lower part whereof we wage such warres: The upper bright and sphæricall

By purer bodies tenanted, the starres.

and though sixe dayes it thee did please

To build this frame, the seventh for rest t' assigne;
Yet was it not thy paine or ease,
But to teach man the quantities of time.

This world so mighty and so faire,
So 'bove the reach of all dimension :

If to thee God we should compare,
Is not the slender'st atome to the Sun.
What then am I, poore nothing, man!
That elevate my voyce and speake of thee?
Since no imagination can
Distinguish part of thy immensitie?

What am I who dare call thee God!
And raise my fancie to discourse thy power?
To whom dust is the period,

Who am not sure to farme this very houre?
For how know I the latest sand

In my fralle glasse of life, doth not now fall?
And while I thus astonisht stand

I but prepare for my owne funerall?

Death doth with man no order keepe: It reckons not by the expence of yeares,

But makes the queene and beggar weepe,
And nere distinguishes betweene their teares.
He who the victory doth gaine

Falls as he him pursues, who from him flyes,
And is by too good fortune slaine.
The lover in his amorous courtship dyes:
The states-man suddenly expires
While he for others ruine doth prepare:
And the gay lady while sh' admires

Her pride, and curles in wanton nets her haire.
No state of man is fortified

'Gainst the assault of th' universall doome:

But who th' Almighty feare, deride

Pale Death, and meet with triumph in the tombe.

My eares shut up that easie dore Which did proud fallacies admit:

And vow to hear no follies more; Deafe to the charmes of sinne and wit.

My hands (which when they toucht some faire Imagin'd such an excellence,

As th' ermine's skin ungentle were) Contract themselves, and loose all sence.

But you bold sinners! still pursue Your valiant wickednesse, and brave

Th' Almighty iustice: hee'le subdue And make you cowards in the grave.

Then when he as your judge appeares, In vaine you'le tremble and lament, And hope to soften him with teares, To no advantage penitent.

Then will you scorne those treasures, which So fiercely now you doate upon :

Then curse those pleasures did bewitch You to this sad illusion.

The neighb'ring mountaines which you shall Wooe to oppresse you with their weight, Disdainefull will deny to fall;

By a sad death to ease your fate.

In vaine some midnight storme at sea
To swallow you, you will desire:
In vaine upon the wheele youle pray
Broken with torments to expire.

Death, at the sight of which you start, In a mad fury then you'le court:

Yet hate th' expressions of your heart, Which onely shall be sigh'd for sport.

No sorrow then shall enter in With pitty the great judges eares.

This moment's ours. Once dead, his sin Man cannot expiate with teares.

Then by the sommer scorcht and tan'd!

Place me alone in some fraile boate

'Mid th' horrours of an angry sea:

Where I, while time shall move, may floate, Despairing either land or day:

Or under earth my youth confine

To th' night and silence of a cell : Where scorpions may my limbes entwine, O God! So thou forgive me Hell.

Eternitie! when I thinke thee,
(Which never any end must have,
Nor knew'st beginning) and fore-see
Hell is design'd for sinne a grave;

My frighted flesh trembles to dust,
My blood ebbes fearefully away:
Both guilty that they did to lust
And vanity, my youth betray.

My eyes, which from each beautious sight Drew spider-like blacke venome in : Close like the marigold at night Ooprest with dew to bath my sin.

WERE it your appetite of glory, (which
In noblest times did bravest soules bewitch
To fall in love with danger), that now drawes
You to the fate of warre; it claimes applause :
And every worthy hand would plucke a bough
From the best spreading bay, to shade your brow.
Since you unforc'd part from your ladie's bed
Warme with the purest love, to lay your head
Perhaps on some rude turfe, and sadly feele
The night's cold dampes, wrapt in a sheete of steele.
You leave your well grown woods, and meadows
which

Our Severne doth with fruitfull streames enrich ;
Your woods where we see such large heards of deere,
Your meades whereon such goodly flockes appeare :
You leave your castle, safe both for defence
And sweetly wanton with magnificence,
With all the cost and cunning beautified

That addes to state, where nothing wants but pride.

These charmes might have bin pow'rfull to have staid
Great mindes resolv'd for action, and betraid
You to a glorious ease: since to the warre
Men by desire of prey invited are,
Whom either sinne or want makes desperate
Or else disdaine of their own narrow fate.
But you nor hope of fame or a release
Of the most sober government in peace,
Did to the hazard of the armie bring:
Onely a pure devotion to the king,

In whose just cause whoever fights, must be
Triumphant since even death is victory.
And what is life, that we to wither it

:

To a weake wrinckled age, should torture wit
To finde out Nature's secrets; what doth length
Of time deserve, if we want heate and strength?
When a brave quarrell doth to armes provoke,
Why should we feare to venter this thin smoke,
This emptie shadow, life? this which the wise
As the foole's idoll, soberly dispise?
Why should we not throw willingly away
A game we cannot save, now that we may
Gaine honour by the gift? since haply when
We onely shall be statue of men

And our owne monuments, peace will deny
Our wretched age so brave a cause to dye.
But these are thoughts! And action tis doth give
A soule to courage, and make vertue live:
Which doth not dwell upon the valiant tongue
Of bold philosophie, but in the strong
Vndaunted spirit, which encounters those
Sad dangers, we to fancie scarce propose.
Yet 'tis the true and highest fortitude
To keepe our inward enemies subdued :
Not to permit our passions over sway
Our actions, nor our wanton flesh betray
The soule's chaste empire: for however we
To th' outward shew may gaine a victory
And proudly triumph; if to conquour sinne
We combate not, we are at warre within.

ET EXALTAVIT HUMILES.

How cheerfully th' unpartiall Sunne
Gilds with his beames
The narrow streames

O'th' brooke which silently doth runne
Without a name?

And yet disdaines to lend his flame To the wide channell of the Thames?

The largest mountaines barren lye,
And lightning feare,
Though they appeare

To bid defiance to the skie;

Which in one houre

W' have seen the opening earth devoure, When in their height they proudest were.

But th' humble man heaves up his head
Like some rich vale

Whose fruites nere faile

With flowres, with corne, and vines ore-spread. Nor doth complaine

Ore-flowed by an ill-season'd raine Or batter'd by a storme of haile.