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On that great day, at thy right hand,
Grant I amongst thy sheep may stand,
Sequester'd from the goatish band.
When that the reprobates are all
To everlasting flames made thrall,
O to thy chosen, Lord, me call!

That I one of thy company,
With those whom thou dost justify,
May live blest in eternity.


Too long I follow'd have my fond desire,
And too long painted on the ocean streams;
Too long refreshment sought amidst the fire,
Pursu'd those joys which to my soul are blames.
Ah! when I had what most I did admire,
And seen of life's delights the last extremes,
I found all but a rose hedg'd with a brier,
A nought, a thought, a masquerade of dreams.
Henceforth on thee, my only good, I'll think;
For only thou canst grant what I do crave;
Thy nail my pen shall be; thy blood, mine ink;
Thy winding-sheet, my paper; study, grave:
And, till my soul forth of this body flee,
No hope I'll have but only, only thee.

To spread the azure canopy of Heaven,
And spangle it all with sparks of burning gold;
To place this pond'rous globe of Earth so even,
That it should all, and nought should it uphold;
With motions strange t' endue the planets seven,
And Jove to make so mild, and Mars so bold;
To temper what is moist, dry, hot, and cold,
Of all their jars that sweet accords are given;
Lord, to thy wisdom's nought, nought to thy might:
But that thou shouldst, thy glory laid aside,
Come basely in mortality to 'bide,

And die for those deserv'd an endless night;
A wonder is, so far above our wit,
That angels stand amaz'd to think on it.

WHAT hapless hap had I for to be born
In these unhappy times, and dying days,
Of this now doting world, when good decays,
Love's quite extinct, and virtue's held a scorn!
When such are only priz'd by wretched ways,
Who with a golden fleece them can adorn;
When avarice and lust are counted praise,
And bravest minds live, orphan like, forloru!
Why was not I born in that golden age,
When gold was not yet known, and those black arts
By which base worldlings vilely play their parts,
With horrid acts staining Earth's stately stage?
To have been then, O Heaven! 't had been my bliss;
But bless me now, and take me soon from this.

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WHAT serves it to be good? Goodness by thee,
The holy-wise is thought a fool to be;
For thee, the man to temperance inclin'd
Is held but of a base and abject mind;
The continent is thought, for thee, but cold:
Who yet was good, that ever died old?
The pitiful, who others fears to kill,

Is kill'd himself, and goodness doth him ill;
The meek and humble man who cannot brave,
By thee is to some giant's brood made slave.
Poor Goodness, thine thou to such wrongs set'st forth,
That, O! I fear me, thou art nothing worth.
And when I look to Earth, and not to Heaven,
Ere I were turned dove, I would be raven.

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"By thee, those spirits pure,
First children of the light,
Now fixed stand, and sure,
In their eterual right;
Now human companies
Renew their ruin'd wall;
Fall'n man, as thou mak'st rise,
Thou giv'st to angels, that they shall not fall.

"By thee, that prince of sin,
That doth with mischief swell,
Hath lost what he did win,
And shall endungeon'd dwell;
His spoils are made the prey,
His fanes are sack'd and torn,

His altars raz'd away,

And what ador'd was late, now lies a scorn.

"These mansions pure and clear,
Which are not made by hands,
Which once by him 'joy'd were,
And his, the in net stain'd, bands,
Now forfet'd, dispossest,

And headlong from them thrown,

Shall Adam's heirs make blest,

By thee, their great Redeemer, made their own.


ABOVE those boundless bounds, where stars do move,
The ceiling of the crystal round above,
And rainbow-sparkling arch of diamond clear,
Which crowns the azure of each undersphere,
In a rich mansion, radiant with light,
To which the Sun is scarce a taper bright,
Which, though a body, yet so pure is fram'd,
That almost spiritual it may be nam'd,
Where bliss aboundeth, and a lasting May,
All pleasures heightening, flourisheth for aye,
The King of Ages dwells. About his throne,
Like to those beams day's golden lamp hath on,
Angelic splendours glance, more swift than aught
Reveal'd to sense, nay, than the winged thought,
His will to practise: here do seraphim
Burn with immortal love; there cherubim,
With other noble people of the light,

As eaglets in the Sun, delight their sight;
Heaven's ancient denizens, pure active powers,
Which, freed of death, that cloister high embowers,
Ethereal princes, ever-conquering bands,

Blest subjects, acting what their king commands;
Sweet choristers, by whose melodious strains

Not without blood addrest,

With glory Heaven, the Earth to crown with grace. Skies dance, and Earth untir'd their brawl sustains.

Mixed among whose sacred legions dear,
The spotless souls of humanes do appear,
Divesting bodies which did cares divest,
And there live happy in eternal rest.

Hither, surcharg'd with grief, fraught with annoy,
(Sad spectacle into that place of joy!)
Her hair disorder'd, dangling o'er her face,
Which had of pallid violets the grace;
The crimson mantle, wont her to adorn,
Cast loose about, and in large pieces torn;
Sighs breathing forth, and from her heavy eyne,
Along her cheeks distilling crystal brine,
Which downward to her ivory breast was driven,
And had bedew'd the milky-way of Heaven,
Came Piety: at her left hand near by,
A wailing woman bare her company,
Whose tender babes her snowy neck did clip,
And now hang on her pap, now by her lip:
Flames glanc'd her head above, which once did glow,
But late look pale, a poor and ruthful show!
She, sobbing, shrunk the throne of God before,
And thus began her case to him deplore:

"Forlorn, wretch'd, desolate! to whom should I
My refuge have, below or in the sky,
But unto thee? See, all-beholding King,
That servant, no, that darling thou didst bring
On Earth, lost man to save from Hell's abime,
And raise unto those regions above time;

"O! Well-spring of this all!
Thy Father's image vive;
Word, that from nought did call
What is, doth reason, live!
Whose work is but to will;
God's co-eternal son,

Great banisher of ill,

By none but thee could these great deeds be done.

"Now each ethereal gate

To him hath open'd been;
And Glory's King in state
His palace enters in:
Now come is this High Priest
In the most holy place,

"Stars, which all eyes were late,

And did with wonder burn,
His name to celebrate,

In flaming tongues them turn;
Their orby crystals move
More active than before,
And en heate from above,

Their sovereign prince laud, glorify, adore.

"The choirs of happy souls,

Wak'd with that music sweet,
Whose descant care controuls,
Their Lord in triumph meet;
The spotless sp'rits of light
His trophies do extol,

And, arch'd in squadrons bright,
Greet their great Victor in his capitol.

"O glory of the Heaven!

O sole delight of Earth!
To thee all power be given,
God's uncreated birth;
Of mankind lover true,

Endurer of his wrong,
Who dost the world renew,

MORE oft than once Death whisper'd in mine ear,
"Grave what thou hear'st in diamond and gold;
I am that monarch whom all monarchs fear,
Who have in dust their far-stretch'd pride uproll'd.
All, all is mine beneath Moon's silver sphere;
And nought, save virtue, can my power withhold:
This, not believ'd, experience true thee told,
By danger late when I to thee came near.
As bugbear then my visage I did show,
That of my horrours thou right use might'st make,
And a more sacred path of living take:
Now still walk armed for my ruthless blow;
Trust flattering life no more, redeem time past,
And live each day, as if it were thy last."

Still be thou our salvation, and our song."
From top of Olivet such notes did rise,
When man's Redeemer did transcend the skies.

Who made thy name so truly be implor'd,
And by the reverend soul so long ador'd,
Her banish'd now see from these lower bounds;
Behold her garments' shreds, her body's wounds:
Look how her sister Charity there stands,
Proscrib'd on Earth, all maim'd by wicked hands:
Mischief there mounts to such an high degree,
That there now none is left that cares for me.
There dwells idolatry, there atheism reigns;
There man in dumb, yet roaring, sins him stains;
So foolish, that he puppets will adore
Of metal, stone, and birds, beasts, trees, before
He once will to thy holy service bow,

And yield thee homage. Ab, alas! yet now
To those black sp'rits which thou dost keep in chains
He vows obedience, and with shameful pains
Infernal borrours courts; case fond and strange!
To bane than bliss desiring more the change.
Thy Charity, of graces once the chief
Did long time find in hospitals relief;
Which now lie levell'd with the lowest ground,
Where sad memorials scarce are of them found.
Then (vagabonding) temples her receiv'd,
Where my poor cells afforded what she crav'd;
But now thy temples raz'd are, human blood
Those places stains, late where thy altars stood:
Times are so horrid, to implore thy name
That it is held now on the Earth a blame.
Now doth the warrior, with his dart and sword,
Write laws in blood, and vent them for thy word:
Religion, faith pretending to make known,
All have, all faith, religion quite o'erthrown!
Men awless, lawless live; most woful case!
Men no more men, a God-contemning race."

Scarce had she said, when, from the nether world
(Like to a lightning through the welkin hurl'd,
That scores with flames the way, and every eye
With terrour dazzles as it swimmeth by)
Came Justice; to whom ange's did make place,
And Truth her flying foots eps straight did trace.
Her sword was lost, the precious weights she bare
Their beam had torn, scales rudely bruised were:
From off her head was reft her golden crown;
In rags her veil was rent, and star-spangl'd gown;
Her tear-wet locks hang'd o'er her face, which made
Between her and the Mighty King a shade;
Just wrath had rais'd her colour, (like the morn
Portending clouds moist embryos to be born)
Of which, she taking leave, with heart swoll'n great,
Thus strove to 'plain before the throne of state.

"Is not the Earth thy workmanship, great King? Didst thou not all this all from nought once bring To this rich beauty, which doth on it shine; Bestowing on each creature of thine Some shadow of thy bounty? Is not man Thy vassal, plac'd to spend his life's short span To do thee homage? And then didst not thou A queen install me there, to whom should bow Thy Earth's indwellers, and to this effect Put in my hand thy sword? O high neglect! Now wretched earthlings, to thy great disgrace, Perverted have my pow'r, and do deface All reverent tracts of justice; now the Earth Is but a frame of shame, a funeral hearth, Where every virtue hath consumed been, And nought (no, not their dust) rests to be seen: Long hath it me abhorr'd, long chased me; Expell'd at last, here I have fled to thee, And forthwith rather would to Hell repair, Than Earth, since justice execute is there,

All live on Earth by spoil, the host his guest
Betrays; the man of her lies in his breast
Is not assur'd; the son the father's death
Attempts; and kindred kindred reave of breath
By lurking means, of such age few makes sick,
Since Hell disgorg'd her baneful arsenic.
Whom murders, foul assassinates defile,
Most who the harmless innocents beguile,
Who most can ravage, rob, ransack, blaspheme,
Is held most virtuous, hath a worthy's name;
So on embolden'd malice they rely,
That, madding, thy great puissance they defy:
Erst man resembled thy portrait, soil'd by smoke
Now like thy creature hardly doth he look.
Old Nature here (she pointed where there stood
An aged lady in a heavy mood)

Doth break her staff, denying human race
To come of her, things born to her disgrace!
The dove the dove, the swan doth love the swan;
Nought so relentless unto man as man.
O! if thou mad'st this world, govern'st it all,
Deserved vengeance on the Earth let fall:
The period of her standing perfect is;
Her hour-glass not a minute short doth miss.
The end, O Lord, is come; then let no more
Mischief still triumph, bad the good devour;
But of thy word since constant, true thou art,
Give good their guerdon, wicked due desert."

She said: throughout the shining palace went A murmur soft, such as afar is sent By musked zephyrs' sighs along the main; Or when they curl some flow'ry see and plain: One was their thought, one their intention, will; Nor could they err, Truth there residing still: All, mov'd with zeal, as one with cries did pray, "Hasten, O Lord! O hasten the last day!"

Look how a generous prince, when he doth hear
Some loving city, and to him most dear,
Which wont with gifts and shows him entertain
(And, as a father's, did obey his reign,)
A rout of slaves and rascal foes to wrack,
Her buildings overthrow, her riches sack,
Feels vengeful flames within his bosom burn,
And a just rage all respects overturn:
So seeing Earth, of angels once the inn,
Mansions of saints, deflower'd all by sin,
And quite confus'd, by wretches here beneath,
The world's great Sovereign moved was to wrath.
Thrice did he rouse himself, thrice from his face
Flames sparkle did throughout the heavenly place.
The stars, though fixed, in their rounds did quake;
The Earth, and earth-embracing sea, did shake:
Carmel and Hæmus felt it; Athos' tops
Affrighted shrunk; and near the Ethiops,
Atlas, the Pyrenees, the Apennine,

And lofty Grampius, which with snow doth shine.
Then to the synod of the sp'rits he swore,
Man's care should end, and time should be no more,
By his own self he swore of perfect worth,
Straight to perform his word sent angels forth.

There lies an island, where the radiant Sun, When he doth to the northern tropics run, Of six long moneths makes one tedious day; And when through southern signs he holds his way, Six moneths turneth in one loathsome night, (Night neither here is fair, nor day hot-bright, But half white, and half more) where, sadly clear, Still coldly glance the beams of either BearThe frosty Groen-land. On the lonely shore The ocean in mountains hoarse doth roar,

And over-tumbling, tumbling over rocks,
Cast various rainbows, which in froth he chokes:
Gulphs all about are shrunk most strangely steep,
Than Nilus' cataracts more vast and deep.
To the wild land beneath to make a shade,
A mountain lifteth up his crested head :
His locks are icicles, his brows are snow;
Yet from his burning bowels deep below,
Comets, far-flaming pyramids, are driven,
And pitchy meteors, to the cope of Heaven.
No summer here the lovely grass forth brings,
Nor trees, no, not the deadly cypress springs.
Cave-ioving Echo, daughter of the air,
By human voice was never waken'd here:
Instead of night's black bird, and plaintful owl,
Infernal furies here do yell and howl.

A mouth yawns in this height so black, obscure
With vapours, that no eye it can endure:
Great Etna's caverns never yet did make
Such sable damps, though they be hideous black;
Stern horrours here eternally do dwell,
And this gulf destine for a gate to Hell:
Forth from this place of dread, Earth to appal,
Three furies rushed at the angel's call.
One with long tresses doth her visage mask,
Her temples clouding in a horrid cask;
Her right hand swings a brandon in the air,
Which flames and terrour hurleth every where;
Pond'rous with darts, her left doth bear a shield,
Where Gorgon's head looks grim in sable field:
Her eyes blaze fire and blood, each hair 'stills blood,
Blood thrills from either pap, and where she stood
Blood's liquid coral sprang her feet beneath;
Where she doth stretch her arm is blood and death.
Her Stygian head no sooner she uprears,
When Earth of swords,helms, lauces,straight appears
To be deliver'd; and from out her womb,
In flame-wing'd thunders, artillery doth come;
Floods' silver streams do take a blushing dye;
The plains with breathless bodies buried lie;
Rage, wrong, rape, sacrilege, do her attend,
Fear, discord, wrack, and woes which have no end:
Town is by town, and prince by prince withstood;
Earth turns an hideous shamble, a lake of blood.

The next, with eyes sunk hollow in her brains,
Lean face, snarl'd hair, with black and empty veins,
Her dry'd-up bones scarce cover'd with her skin,
Bewraying that strange structure built within;
Thigh-bellyless, most ghastly to the sight,
A wasted skeleton resembleth right.

Where she doth roam in air faint do the birds,
Yawn do earth's ruthless brood and harmless herds,
The wood's wild forragers do howl and roar,
The humid swimmers die along the shore :
In towns, the living do the dead up eat,
Then die themselves, alas! and, wanting meat,
Mothers not spare the birth of their own wombs,
But turn those nests of life to fatal tombs.

Last did a saffron-colour'd hag come out, With uncomb'd hair, brows banded all about With dusky clouds, in ragged mantle clad, Her breath with stinking fumes the air bespread ; In either hand she held a whip, whose wires Still'd poison, blaz'd with Phlegethontal fires. Relentless, she each state, sex, age, defiles, Earth streams with gores, burns with envenom'd boils; Where she repairs, towns do in deserts turn, The living have no pause the dead to mourn; The friend, ah! dares not lock the dying eyes Of his belov'd; the wife the husband flies;

Men basilisks to men prove, and by breath,
Than lead or steel, bring worse and swifter death:
No cypress, obsequies, no tomb they have;
The sad Heaven mostly serves them for a grave.

These over Earth tumultuously do run,
South, north, from rising to the setting Sun;
They sometime part, yet, than the winds more fleet,
Forthwith together in one place they meet.
Great Quinzay, ye it know, Susania's pride,
And you where stately Tiber's streains do glide;
Memphis, Parthenope, ye too it know,
And where Euripus' seven-fold tide doth flow:
Ye know it, empresses, on Thames, Rhone, Seine;
And ye, fair queens, by Tagus, Danube, Rhine;
Though they do scour the Earth, roam far and large,
Not thus content, the angels leave their charge:
We of her wreck these slender signs may name,
By greater they the judgment do proclaim.

This centre's centre with a mighty blow
One bruiseth, whose crack'd concaves louder low,
And rumble, than if all th' artillery

On Earth discharg'd at once were in the sky;
Her surface shakes, her mountains in the main
Turn topsy-turvy, of heights making plain:
Towns them ingulf; and late where towers did stand
Now nought remaineth but a waste of sand:
With turning eddies seas sink under ground,
And in their floating depth are valleys found;
Late where with foamy crests waves tilted waves,
Now fishy bottoms shine, and mossy caves.
The mariner casts an amazed eye

On his wing'd firs, which bedded he finds lie,
Yet can he see no shore; but whilst he thinks,
What hideous crevice that huge current drinks,
The streams rush back again with storming tide,
And now his ships on crystal mountains glide,
Till they be hurl'd far beyond seas and hope,
And settle on some hill or palace top;
Or, by triumphant surges over-driven,
Show Earth their entrails, and their keels the Heaven.
Sky's cloudy tables some do paint, with fights
Of armed squadrons, justling steeds and knights,
With shining crosses, judge, and sapphire throne,
Arraigned criminals to howl and groan, [shine
And plaints sent forth are heard: new worlds seen
With other suns and moons, false stars decline,
And dive in seas; red comets warm the air,
And blaze, as other worlds were judged there.
Others the heavenly bodies do displace,
Make Sun his sister's stranger steps to trace;
Beyond the course of spheres he drives his coach,
And near the cold Arcturus doth approach;
The Scythian amaz'd is at such beams,
The Mauritanian to see icy streams;

The shadow, which erewhile turn'd to the west,
Now wheels about, then reeleth to the east:
New stars above the eighth Heaven sparkle clear,
Mars chops with Saturn, Jove claims Mars's sphere;
Shrunk nearer Earth, all blacken'd now and brown,
In mask of weeping clouds appears the Moon.
There are no seasons, autumn, summer, spring,
All are stern winter, and no birth forth bring:
Red turns the sky's blue curtain o'er this globe,
As to propine the judge with purple robe.

At first, entranc'd, with sad and curious eyes,
Earth's pilgrims stare on those strange prodigies:
The star-gazer this round finds truly move
In parts and whole, yet by no skill can prove
The firmament's stay'd firmness. They which dream
An everlastingness in world's vast frame,


Think well some region where they dwell may wrack,
But that the whole nor time nor force can shake;
Yet, frantic, muse to see Heaven's stately lights,
Like drunkards, wayless reel amidst their heights.
Such as do nations govern, and command
Vasts of the sea and emperies of land,
Repine to see their countries overthrown,
And find no foe their fury to make known:
"Alas!" they say,
"what boots our toils and pains,
Of care on Earth is this the furthest gains?
No riches now can bribe our angry fate;

Wip'd from our eyes now shall be every tear,
Sighs stopt, since our salvation is so near.
What long we long'd for, God at last hath given,
Earth's chosen bands to join with those of Heaven.
Now noble souls a guerdon just shall find,
And rest and glory be in one combin'd;
Now, more than in a mirror, by these eyne,
Even face to face, our Maker shall be seen.
O welcome wonder of the soul and sight!
O welcome object of all true delight!
Thy triumphs and return we did expect,
Of all past toils to reap the dear effect:
Since thou art just, perform thy holy word;
O come still hop'd for, come long wish'd for, Lord."

O no! to blast our pride the Heavens do threat:
In dust now must our greatness buried lie,
Yet is it comfort with the world to die."
As more and more the warning signs increase,
Wild dread deprives lost Adam's race of peace;
From out their grand-dame Earth theyfain would fly,
But whither know not, Heavens are far and high:
Each would bewail and mourn his own distress;
But public cries do private tears suppress:
Laments, plaints, shrieks of woe, disturb all ears,
And fear is equal to the pain it fears.

Amidst this mass of cruelty and slights, This galley, full of God-despising wights, This jail of sin and shame, this filthy stage, Where all act folly, misery, and rage; Amidst those throngs of old prepar'd for Hell, Those numbers which no Archimede can tell, A silly crew did lurk, a harmless rout, Wand'ring the Earth, which God had chosen out To live with him, (few roses which did blow Among those weeds Earth's garden overgrow, A dew of gold still'd on earth's sandy mine, Small diamonds in world's rough rocks which shine,) By purple tyrants which pursu'd and chas'd, Liv'd recluses, in lonely islands plac'd;

Or did the mountains haunt, and forests wild, [mild;
Which they than towns more harmless found and
Where many an hymn they, to their Maker's praise,
Teach'd groves and rooks, which did resound their

Nor sword, nor famine, nor plague poisoning air,
Nor prodigies appearing every where,
Nor all the sad disorder of this all,
Could this small handful of the world appal;
But as the flow'r, which during winter's cold
Runs to the root, and lurks in sap uproll'd,
So soon as the great planet of the year
Begins the Twins' dear mansion to clear,
Lifts up its fragrant head, and to the field
A spring of beauty and delight doth yield:
So at those signs and apparitions strange,
Their thoughts, looks, gestures, did begin to change;
Joy makes their hands to clap, their hearts to dance,
In voice turns music, in their eyes doth glance,
"What can,"saythey, "these changes else portend,
Of this great frame, save the approaching end!
Past are the signs, all is perform'd of old,
Which the Almighty's heralds us foretold.
Heaven now no longer shall of God's great power
A turning temple be, but fixed tower;
Burn shall this mortal mass amidst the air,
Of divine justice turn'd a trophy fair;
Near is the last of days, whose light embalms
Past griefs, and all our stormy cares becalms.
O happy day! O cheerful, holy day!
Which night's sad sables shall not take away!
Farewel complaints, and ye yet doubtful thought
Crown now your hopes with comforts long time

While thus they pray, the Heavens in flames apAs if they shew fire's elemental sphere; [pear, The Earth seems in the Sun, the welkin gone; Wonder all hushes; straight the air doth groan With trumpets, which thrice louder sounds do yield Than deaf'ning thunders in the airy field. Created nature at the clangour quakes; Immur'd with flames, Earth in a palsy shakes, And from her womb the dust in several heaps Takes life, and must'reth into human shapes: Hell bursts, and the foul prisoners there bound Come howling to the day, with serpents crown'd. Millions of angels in the lofty height, Clad in pure gold, and the electre bright, Ushering the way still where the Judge should move, In radiant rainbows vault the skies above; Which quickly open, like a curtain driven, And beaming glory shows the King of Heaven.

What Persian prince, Assyrian most renown'd, What Scythian with conquering squadrons crown'd, Ent'ring a breached city, where conspire Fire to dry blood, and blood to quench out fire; Where cutted carcasses' quick members reel, And by their ruin blunt the reeking steel, Resembleth now the ever-living King? What face of Troy which doth with yelling ring, And Grecian flames transported in the air; What dreadful spectacle of Carthage fair; What picture of rich Corinth's tragic wrack, Or of Numantia the hideous sack;

Or these together shown, the image, face,
Can represent of Earth, and plaintful case,
Which must lie smoking in the world's vast womb,
And to itself both fuel be and tomb?

Near to that sweet and odoriferous clime, Where the all-cheering emperor of time Makes spring the cassia, nard, and fragrant balms, And every hill and collin crowns with palms; Where incense sweats, where weeps the precious And cedars overtop the pine and fir: [myrrh, Near where the aged phenix, tir'd of breath, Doth build her nest, and takes new life in death; A valley into wide and open fields Far it extendeth ****** The rest is wanting.


SAVIOUR of mankind! Man Emanuel!

Who sinless died for sin, who vanquish'd Hell, The first fruits of the grave, whose life did give Light to our darkness, in whose death we liveO strengthen thou my faith, correct my will, That mine may thine obey: protect me still,

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