Would not the air be filled with streams of death Didst Thou not lead it wandering from his way, To fresh the flowery meadows, through whose fields they play? Who makes the sources of the silver fountains From the flint's mouth and rocky valleys slide, In their cold dens, making them hungry bide, Till man to rest be laid? Can beastly he, Were he not wilder than the savage beast, Prouder than haughty hills, harder than rocks, Colder than fountains from their springs released, Lighter than air, blinder than senseless stocks, More changing than the river's curling locks; If reason would not, sense would soon reprove him, And unto shame, if not to sorrow, move him, To see cold floods, wild beasts, dull stocks, hard stones, outlove him. Under the weight of sin the earth did fall, And swallowed Dathan9; and the raging wind, And stormy sea, and gaping whale, did call For Jonah 10; and the air did bullets find, And shot from heaven a stormy shower, to grind The five proud kings" that for their idols fought; The sun itself stood still to fight it out, And fire from heaven flew down, when sin to heaven did shout. Should any to himself for safety fly? The way to save himself, if anywhere, Were to fly from himself; should he rely Upon the promise of his wife? but there What can he see but that he most may fear, His strength? but dust: his pleasure? cause of pain: Just recompense? the world were all too little: Hell's force? in vain her furies hell shall gather: His servants, kinsmen, or his children rather? His child, if good, shall judge; if bad, shall curse his father : His life? that brings him to his end and leaves him: His end? that leaves him to begin his woe: His goods? what good in that, that so deceives him? To go to help, that must be helped to go: He wanted wit, that thought he had it wanting Thee. Angels to spare? they punish: night to hide? Along their oily threads: his mind pursues him: What need I urge what they must needs confess? I crave no more, and thou canst give no less 1 But if thy mercy needs will spare her friends, 'Tis cruel mercy that the wrong from right defends." She ended-and the heavenly hierarchies, Burning in zeal, thickly imbranded 12 were, Like to an army that alarum cries; And every one shakes his terrific spear; And the Almighty's self, as He would tear The earth and her firm basis quite in sunder, Flamed all in just revenge and mighty thunder: Heaven stole itself from earth by clouds that moistened under. MERCY. As when the cheerful sun enlamping 13 wide, And paints her bosom with the flowery May, And headlong to his early roost the sparrow flies. But soon as he again disshadowed is, Restoring the blind world his blemished sight, As though another day were newly his, The cozened birds busily take their flight, And wonder at the shortness of the night: So Mercy once again herself displays Out from her sister's cloud, and open lays Those sunshine looks, whose beams would dim a thousand days. 12 Imbranded, mustered in arms. 14 The moon. THE SPEECH OF MERCY. SUCH when as Mercy her beheld from high, Smiling Irene 15, that a garland wears Of gilded olive on her fairer hairs, To crown the fainting soul's true sacrifice : But Mercy felt a kind remorse to run Through her soft veins, and therefore hieing fast To give an end to silence, thus begun : Aye, honoured Father, if no joy thou hast But to reward desert, reward at last The devil's voice spoke with a serpent's tongue, And let him die, death's bitter charms so sweetly sung. He was the father of that hopeless season, That to serve other gods forgot their own; The reason was, Thou wast above their reason: And these as Justice hates, so I deplore; He was but dust: why feared he not to fall? And being fallen, why should he fear to die? Of grace? Can He not hide infirmity Or Maker of the man, or manner of his making. 15 Peace. Who shall thy temple incense any more, Or at thy altar crown the sacrifice, Or strew with idle flowers the hallowed floor, Or what should prayer deck with herbs and spice, Her vials breathing orisons of price? If all must pay that which all cannot pay, Oh! first begin with me, and Mercy slay, And thy thrice-honoured Son that now beneath doth stray! But if or He or I may live and speak, And heaven can joy to see a sinner weep, Oh! let not Justice' iron sceptre break A heart already broke, that low doth creep, And with proud humblesse her feet's dust doth sweep. Must all go by desert? is nothing free? Ah! if but those that only worthy be, None should Thee ever see, none should Thee ever see. What man hath done that man shall not undo, Too hardy soul, with sin the field to try: The only way to conquer was to fly; But thus long death hath lived, and now death's self shall die. He is a path, if any be misled; He is a robe, if any naked be; If any chance to hunger, He is bread; If any be a bondman, He is free; If any be but weak, how strong is He! To dead men life He is, to sick men health; To blind men sight, and to the needy wealth; A pleasure without loss, a treasure without stealth. Who can forget-never to be forgot The time that all the world in slumber lies, |