With sense whereof, whilst so thy softened spirit
Is inly toucht, and humbled with meek zeal
Through meditation of his endless merit,
Lift up thy mind to th' Author of thy weal,
And to his soverain mercy do appeal ;
Learn him to love that loved thee so dear,
And in thy breast his blessed image bear.
With all thy heart, with all thy soule and mind,
Thou must him love, and his behests embrace;
All other loves, with which the world doth blind
Weake fancies, and stirre up affections base,
Thou must renounce and utterly displace,
And give thy selfe unto him full and free,
That full and freely gave himselfe to thee.
Then shalt thou feele thy spirit so possest,
And ravisht with devouring great desire
Of his dear self, that shall thy feeble brest
Inflame with love, and set thee all on fire
With burning zeale, through every part entire,
That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight,
But in his sweet and amiable sight.
Thenceforth all world's desire will in thee die,
And all Earthe's glorie, on which men do gaze,
Seeme durt and drosse in thy pure-sighted eye,
Compared to that celestiall beautie's blaze,
Whose glorious beames all fleshly sense doth daze
With admiration of their passing light,
Blinding the eyes, and lumining the spright.
Then shall thy ravisht soul inspired bee
With heavenly thoughts, farre above humane skill,
And thy bright radiant eyes shall plainely see
The idee of his pure glorie present still
Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill
With sweete enragement of celestiall love,
Kindled through sight of those faire things
above.
AN HYMN OF HEAVENLY BEAUTIE.
RAPT with the rage of mine own ravisht thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
And glorious images in heaven wrought,
Whose wondrous beauty, breathing sweet delights,
Doth kindle love in high conceited sprights;
I faine to tell the things that I behold,
But feele my wits to faile, and tongue to fold.
Vouchsafe then, O thou most Almightie Spright!
From whom all gifts of wit and knowledge flow,
To shed into my breast some sparkling light
Of thine eternall truth, that I may show
Some little beames to mortall eyes below
Of that immortall Beautie, there with thee,
Which in my weake distraughted mind I see ;-
That with the glorie of so goodly sight
The hearts of men, which fondly here admire
Faire seeming shewes, and feed on vaine delight,
Transported with celestiall desire
Of those faire formes, may lift themselves up
And learne to love, with zealous humble dewty, The Eternall Fountaine of that heavenly beauty.
Beginning then below, with the easie vew
Of this base world, subject to fleshly eye,
From thence to mount aloft, by order dew,
To contemplation of the immortall sky;
Of the soare faulcon so I learne to flie,
That flags awhile her fluttering wings beneath,
Till she herselfe for stronger flight can breath.
Then looke, who list thy gazefull eyes to feed
With sight of that is faire, looke on the frame
Of this wide universe, and therein reed
The endlesse kinds of creatures, which by name
Thou canst not count, much less their natures'
aime;
All which are made with wondrous wise respect,
And all with admirable beautie deckt.
First, the earth, on adamantine pillers founded
Amid the sea, engirt with brasen bands;
Then the aire still flitting, but yet firmely bounded
On everie side, with piles of flaming brands,
Never consumed, nor quencht with mortall hands;
And, last, that mightie shining cristall wall,
Wherewith he hath encompassed this All.
By view whereof it plainly may appear,
That still as every thing doth upward tend,
And further is from earth, so still more clear
And fair it grows, till to his perfect end
Of purest beauty it at last ascend;
Air more than water, fire much more than air,
And heaven than fire, appears more pure and fair.
Looke thou no further, but affixe thine eye
On that bright shinie round still moving masse,
The house of blessed God, which men call skie, All sow'd with glistring stars more thicke then
Whereof each other doth in brightnesse passe,
But those two most, which, ruling night and day, As king and queene, the heavens' empire sway;
And tell me then, what hast thou ever seene
That to their beautie may compared bee,
Or can the sight that is more sharpe and keene
Endure their captain's flaming head to see?
How much lesse those, much higher in degree,
And so much fairer, and much more then these,
As these are fairer then the land and seas?
For farre above these heavens, which here we see,
Be others farre exceeding these in light,
Not bounded, not corrupt, as these same bee,
But infinite in largenesse and in hight,
Unmoving, uncorrupt, and spotlesse bright,
That need no sunne to illuminate their spheres,
But their owne native light farre passing theirs.
And as these heavens still by degrees arise,
Until they come to their first Mover's bound,
That in his mighty compass doth comprise,
And carry all the rest with him around,
So those likewise do by degrees redound,
And rise more fair, till they at last arrive
To the most fair, whereto they all do strive.
Faire is the heaven where happy soules have place
In full enjoyment of felicitie,
Whence they doe still behold the glorious face
Of the Divine Eternall Majestie:
More faire is that, where those Idees on hie
Enranged be, which Plato so admired,
And pure Intelligences from God inspired.
Yet fairer is that heaven, in which do raine
The soveraigne powres and mightie potentates,
Which in their high protections doe containe
All mortall princes and imperiall states;
And fairer yet, whereas the royall seates
And heavenly dominations are set,
From whom all earthly governance is fet.1
Yet farre more faire be those bright cherubins,
Which all with golden wings are overdight,
And those eternall burning seraphins,
Which from their faces dart out fierie light;
Yet fairer than they both, and much more bright,
Be the angels and archangels, which attend
On God's owne person, without rest or end.
These thus in fair each other far excelling,
As to the highest they approach more near,
Yet is that highest far beyond all telling,
Fairer than all the rest which there appear,
Though all their beauties joyn'd together were;
How then can mortal tongue hope to express
The image of such endless perfectness?
Cease then, my tongue! and lend unto my mind Leave to bethinke how great that beautie is, Whose utmost parts so beautifull I find;
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