Christs victorie, and triumph in Heauen, and earth, ouer, and after death

CHRISTS TRIVMPH after Death.

1

BVt now the second Morning, from her bowre, * 1.1 Began to glister in her beames, and nowe The roses of the day began to flowre In th' easterne garden; for heau'ns smiling browe Halfe insolent for ioy begunne to showe: The early Sunne came liuely dauncing out, And the bragge lambes ranne wantoning about, That heau'n, and earth might seeme in tryumph both to shour.

2

Th' engladded Spring, forgetfull now to weepe, Began t' eblazon from her leauie bed, The waking swallowe broke her halfe-yeares sleepe, And euerie bush lay deepely purpured With violets, the woods late-wintry head Wide flaming primroses set all on fire, And his bald trees put on their greene attire, Among whose insant leaues the ioyeous birds conspire.

3

And now the taller Sonnes (whom Titan warmes) Of vnshorne mountaines, blowne with easie windes, Dandled the mornings childhood in their armes, And, if they chaunc't to slip the prouder pines, The vnder Corylets did catch the shines, To guild their leaues, sawe neuer happie yeare Such ioyfull triumph, and triumphant cheare, As though the aged world anew created wear.

4

Say Earth, why hast thou got thee new attire, And stick'st thy habit full of dazies red? Seems that thou doest to some high thought aspire, And some newe-found-out Bridegroome mean'st to wed: Tell me ye Trees, so fresh apparelled, So neuer let the spitefull Canker wast you, So neuer let the heau'ns with lightening blast you, Why goe you now so trimly drest, or whither hast you?

5

Answer me Iordan, why thy crooked tide So often wanders from his neerest way, As though some other way thy streame would slide, And faine salute the place where something lay? And you sweete birds, that shaded from the ray, Sit carolling, and piping griefe away, The while the lambs to heare you daunce, and play, Tell me sweete birds, what is it you so faine would say?

6

And, thou faire Spouse of Earth, that euerie yeare, Gett'st such a numerous issue of thy bride, How chance thou hotter shin'st, and draw'st more neere? Sure thou somewhear some worthie sight hast spide,

That in one place for ioy thou canst not bide: And you dead Swallowes, that so liuely now Through the flit aire your winged passage rowe, How could new life into your frozen ashes flowe?

7

Ye Primroses, and purple violets, Tell me, why blaze ye from your leauie bed, And wooe mens hands to rent you from your sets, As though you would somewhear be carried, With fresh perfumes, and velvets garnished? But ah, I neede not aske, t'is surely so, You all would to your Sauiours triumphs goe, Thear would ye all awaite, and humble homage doe.

8

Thear should the Earth herselfe with garlands newe * 1.2 And louely flowr's embellished adore, Such roses neuer in her garland grewe, Such lillies neuer in her brest she wore, Like beautie neuer yet did shine before: Thear should the Sunne another Sunne behold, From whence himselfe borrowes his locks of gold, That kindle heau'n, and earth with beauties manifold.

9

Thear might the violet, and primrose sweet Beames of more liuely, and more louely grace, Arising from their beds of incense meet; Thear should the Swallowe see newe life embrace Dead ashes, and the graue vnheale his face, To let the liuing from his bowels creepe, Vnable longer his owne dead to keepe: Thear heau'n, and earth should see their Lord awake from sleepe.

10

Their Lord, before by other iudg'd to die, Nowe Iudge of all himselfe, before forsaken Of all the world, that from his aide did flie, Now by the Saints into their armies taken, Before for an vnworthie man mistaken, Nowe worthy to be God confest, before With blasphemies by all the basest tore, Now worshipped by Angels, that him lowe adore.

11

Whose garment was before indipt in blood, But now, imbright'ned into heau'nly flame, The Sun it selfe outglitters, though he should Climbe to the toppe of the celestiall frame, And force the starres go hide themselues for shame: Before that vnder earth was buried, But nowe about the heau'ns is carried, And thear for euer by the Angels heried.

12

So fairest Phosphor the bright Morning starre, But neewely washt in the greene element, Before the drouzie Night is halfe aware, Shooting his flaming locks with deaw besprent, Springs liuely vp into the orient, And the bright droue, fleec't all in gold, he chaces To drinke, that on the Olympique mountaine grazes, The while the minor Planets forfeit all their faces.

13

So long he wandred in our lower spheare, * 1.3 That heau'n began his cloudy starres despise, Halfe enuious, to see on earth appeare A greater light, then flam'd in his owne skies:

At length it burst for spight, and out thear flies A globe of winged Angels, swift as thought, That, on their spotted feathers, liuely caught The sparkling Earth, and to their azure fields it brought.

14

The rest, that yet amazed stood belowe, With eyes cast vp, as greedie to be sed, And hands vpheld, themselues to ground did throwe, So when the Troian boy was rauished, As through th'Idalian woods they saie he fled, His aged Gardians stood all dismai'd, Some least he should haue fallen back afraid, And some their hasty vowes, and timely prayers said.

15

Tosse vp your heads ye euerlasting gates, And let the Prince of glorie enter in: At whose braue voly of sideriall States, The Sunne to blush, and starres growe pale wear seene, When, leaping first from earth, he did begin To climbe his Angells wings; then open hang Your christall doores, so all the chorus sang Of heau'nly birds, as to the starres they nimbly sprang.

16

Hearke how the floods clap their applauding hands, The pleasant valleyes singing for delight, And wanton Mountaines daunce about the Lands, The while the fieldes, struck with the heau'nly light, Set all their flowr's a smiling at the sight, The trees laugh with their blossoms, and the sound Of the triumphant shout of praise, that crown'd The flaming Lambe, breaking through heau'n, hath passage found.

17

Out leap the antique Patriarchs, all in hast, * 1.4 To see the powr's of Hell in triumph lead, And with small starres a garland intercha'st Of oliue leaues they bore, to crowne his head, That was before with thornes degloried, After them flewe the Prophets, brightly stol'd In shining lawne, and wimpled manifold, Striking their yuorie harpes, strung all in chords of gold.

18

To which the Saints victorious carolls sung, Ten thousand Saints atonce, that with the sound, The hollow vaults of heau'n for triumph rung: The Cherubins their clamours did confound * 1.5 With all the rest, and clapt their wings around: Downe from their thrones the Dominations flowe, And at his feet their crownes, and scepters throwe, And all the princely Soules fell on their faces lowe.

19

Nor can the Martyrs wounds them stay behind, But out they rush among the heau'nly crowd, Seeking their hean'n out of their heau'n to find, Sounding their siluer trumpets out so loude, That the shrill noise broke through the starrie cloude, And all the virgin Soules, in pure araie, Came dauncing forth, and making ioyeous plaie; So him they lead along into the courts of day.

20

So him they lead into the courts of day, * 1.6 Whear neuer warre, nor wounds abide him more, But in that house, eternall peace doth plaie, Acquieting the soules, that newe before

Their way to heav'n through their owne blood did skore, But now, estranged from all miserie, As farre as heau'n, and earth discoasted lie, Swelter in quiet waues of immortalitie.

20

And if great things by smaller may be ghuest, * 1.7 So, in the mid'st of Neptunes angrie tide, Our Britan Island, like the weedie nest Of true Haleyon, on the waues doth ride, And softly sayling, skornes the waters pride: While all the rest, drown'd on the continent, And tost in bloodie waues, their wounds lament, And stand, to see our peace, as struck with woonderment.

21

The Ship of France religious waues doe tosse, And Greec it selfe is now growne barbarous, Spains Children hardly dare the Ocean crosse, And Belges field lies wast, and ruinous, That vnto those, the heau'ns ar invious, And vnto them, themselues ar strangers growne, And vnto these, the Seas ar faithles knowne, And vnto her, alas, her owne is not her owne.

22

Here onely shut we Ianus yron gates, And call the welcome Muses to our springs, And ar but Pilgrims from our heav'nly states, The while the trusty Earth sure plentie brings, And Ships through Neptune safely spread their wings. Goe blessed Island, wander whear thou please, Vnto thy God, or men, heau'n, lands, or seas, Thou canst not loose thy way, thy King with all hath peace.

23

Deere Prince, thy Subiects ioy, hope of their heirs, Picture of peace, or breathing Image rather, The certaine argument of all our pray'rs. Thy Harries, and thy Countries louely Father, Let Peace, in endles ioyes, for euer bath her Within thy sacred brest, that at thy birth Brought'st her with thee from heau'n, to dwell on earth, Making our earth a heav'n, and paradise of mirth.

24

Let not my Liege misdeem these humble laies, As lick't with soft, and supple blandishment, Or spoken to disparagon his praise; For though pale Cynthia, neere her brothers tent, Soone disappeares in the white firmament, And giues him back the beames, before wear his, Yet when he verges, or is hardly ris, She the viue image of her absent brother is.

25

Nor let the Prince of peace his beadsman blame, That with his Stewart dares his Lord compare, And heau'nly peace with earthly quiet shame: So Pines to lowely plants compared ar, And lightning Phoebus to a little starre: And well I wot, my rime, albee vnsmooth, Ne, saies but what it meanes, ne meanes but sooth, Ne harmes the good, ne good to harmefull person doth.

26

Gaze but vpon the house, whear Man embowr's: With flowr's, and rushes paued is his way, * 1.8 Whear all the Creatures at his Seruitours, The windes doe sweepe his chambers euery day,

And cloudes doe wash his rooms, the seeling gay, Starred aloft the guilded knob•• embraue: If such a house God to another gaue, How shine those glittering courts, he for himselfe will haue?

27

And if a sullen cloud, as sad as night, * 1.9 In which the Sunne may seeme embodied, Depur'd of all his drosse, we see so white, Burning in melted gold his warrie head, Or round with yuorie edges siluered, What lustre superexcellent will he Lighten on those, that shall his sunneshine see, In that all-glorious court, in which all glories be?

28

If but one Sunne, whith his diffusiue fires, Can paint the starres, and the whole world with light, And ioy, and life into each heart inspires, And euery Saint shall shine in heau'n, as bright As doth the Sunne in his transcendent might, (As faith may well beleeue, what Truth once sayes) What shall so many Sunnes vnited rayes But dazle all the eyes, that nowe in heau'n we praise?

29

Here let my Lord hang vp his conquering launce, And bloody armour with late slaughter warme, And looking downe on his weake Militants, Behold his Saints, mid'st of their hot alarme, Hang all their golden hopes vpon his arme. And in this lower field dispacing wide, Through windie thoughts, that would their sayles mis∣guide, Anchor their fleshly ships fast in his wounded side.

30

Here may the Band, that now in Tryumph shines, And that (before they wear inuested thus) In earthly bodies carried heauenly mindes, Pitcht round about in order glorious, Their sunny Tents, and houses luminous, All their eternall day in songs employing, Ioying their ende, without ende of their ioying, While their almightie Prince Destruction is destroying.

31

Full, yet without satietie, of that * 1.10 Which whetts, and quiets greedy Appetite, Whear neuer Sunne did rise, nor euer sat, But one eternall day, and endles light Giues time to those, whose time is infinite, Speaking with thought, obtaining without see, Beholding him, whom neuer eye could see, And magnifying him, that cannot greater be.

32

How can such ioy as this want words to speake? And yet what words can speake such ioy as this? Far from the world, that might their quiet breake, Here the glad Soules the face of beauty kisse, Powr'd out in pleasure, on their beds of blisse. And drunke with nectar torrents, euer hold Their eyes on him, whose graces manifold, The more they doe behold, the more they would behold.

33

Their sight drinkes louely fires in at their eyes, * 1.11 Their braine sweete incense with fine breath accloyes, That on Gods sweating altar burning lies, Their hungrie eares feede on their heau'nly noyse,

That Angels sing, to tell their vntould ioyes; Their vnderstanding naked Truth, their wills The all, and selfe-sufficient Goodnesse fills, That nothing here is wanting, but the want of ills.

34

No Sorrowe nowe hangs clowding on their browe, * 1.12 No bloodles Maladie empales their face, No Age drops on their hayrs his siluer snowe, No Nakednesse their bodies doeth embase, No Pouertie themselues, and theirs disgrace, No feare of death the ioy of life deuours, No vnchast sleepe their precious time deflowrs, No losse, no griefe, no change waite on their winged hour's.

35

But now their naked bodies skorne the cold, And from their eyes ioy lookes, and laughs at paine, The Infant wonders how he came so old, And old man how he came so young againe; Still resting, though from sleepe they stiil refraine, Whear all are rich, and yet no gold they owe, And all are Kings, and yet no Subiects knowe, All full, and yet no time on foode they doe bestowe.

36

For things that passe are past, and in this field, The indeficient Spring no Winter feares, The Trees together fruit, and blossome yeild, Th'vnfading Lilly leaues of siluer beares, And crimson rose a skarlet garment weares: And all of these on the Saints bodies growe, Not, as they woont, on baser earth belowe; * 1.13 Three riuers heer of milke, and wine, and honie flowe.

37

About the holy Cittie rowles a flood * 1.14 Of moulten chrystall, like a sea of glasse, On which weake streame a strong foundation ••••ood, Of liuing Diamounds the building 〈◊〉〈◊〉, That all things else, besides it selfe, did passe. Her streetes, in stead of stones, the starres did paue, And little pearles, for dust, it seem'd to haue, On which soft-streaming Manna, like pure snowe, did •…•…

38

In mid'st of this Citie coelestiall, * 1.15 Wheat the eternall Temple should haue rose, Light'ned th' Idea Beatificall: End, and beginning of each thing that growes, Whose selfe no end, nor yet beginning knowes, That hath no eyes to see, nor ears to heare, Yet sees, and heares, and is all-eye, all-eare, That no wheat is contain'd, and yet is euery whear.

39

Changer of all things, yet immutable, Before, and after all, the first, and last, That moouing all, is yet immoueable, Great without quantitie, in whose forecast, Things past are present, things to come are past, Swift without motion, to whose open eye The hearts of wicked men vnbrested lie, At once absent, and present to them, farre, and nigh.

40

It is no flaming lustre, made of light, No sweet concent, or well-tim'd harmonie, Ambrosia, for to feast the Appetite, Or flowrie odour, mixt with spicerie.

•…•…o soft embrace, or pleasure bodily, And yet it is a kinde of inward feast, A harmony, that sounds within the brest, •…•…n odour, light, embrace, in which the soule doth rest,

41

A heav'nly feast, no hunger can consume, A light vnseene, yet shines in euery place, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sound, no time can steale, a sweet perfume, No windes can scatter, an intire embrace, That no satietie can ere vnlace, Ingrac't into so ••igh a fauour, thear The Saints, with their Beaw-peers, whole worlds out∣wear, And things vnseene doe see, and things vnheard doe hear.

42

Ye blessed soules, growne richer by your spoile, * 1.16 Whose losse, though great, is cause of greater gaines, Here may your weary Spirits rest from toyle, Spending your endlesse eav'ning, that remaines, Among those white flocks, and celestiall traines, That feed vpon their Sheapheards eyes, and frame That heau'nly musique of so woondrous fame, Psalming aloude the holy honours of his name.

43

Had I a voice of steel to tune my song, Wear euery verse as smoothly fil'd as glasse, And euery member turned to a tongue, And euery tongue wear made of sounding brasse, Yet all that skill, and all this strength, alas, Should it presume to guild, wear misadvis'd, The place, wheat Dauid hath new songs devis'd, As in his burning throne he sits emparadis'd.

44

Most happie Prince, whose eyes those starres behould, Treading ours vnder feet, now maist thou powre That ouerflowing skill, whear with of ould Thou woont'st to combe rough speech, now maist thou sho•…•… Fresh streames of praise vpon that holy bowre, Which well we heaven call, not that it rowles, But that it is the hauen of our soules. Most happie Prince, whose ••ight so heav'nly ••ight be•…•…

45

Ah foolish Sheapheards, that wear woont esteem, Your God all rough, and shaggy-hair'd to bee; And yet farre wiser Sheapheards then ye deeme, For who so poore (though who so rich) as hee, When, with vs hermiting in lowe degree, He wash't his flocks in Iordans spotles tide, And, that his deere remembrance aie might bide, Did to vs come, and with vs liu'd, and for vs di'd?

46

But now so liuely colours did embeame His sparkling forehead, and so shiny rayes Kindled his flaming locks; that downe did streame In curies, along his necke, whear sweetly playes (Singing his wounds of loue in sacred layes) His deerest Spouse, Spouse of the deerest Lover, Knitting a thousand knots ouer, and ouer, And dying still for loue, but they her still recover.

47

Faire Egliset, that at his eyes doth dresse Her glorious face, those eyes, from whence a•• shed Infinite belamours, wheat to expresse His loue, high God all heav'n as captive leads,

And all the banners of his grace dispreads, And in those windowes, doth his armes englaze, And on those eyes, the Angels all doe gaze, And from those eies, the lights of heau'n do gleane their blaze.

48

But let the Kentish lad, that lately taught His oaten reed the trumpets siluer sound, Young Thy••silis, and for his musique brought The willing sphears from heav'n, to lead a round Of dauncing Nymphs, and Heards, that sung, and crown'd Eclectas hymen with ten thousand flowrs Of choycest prayse, and hung her heav'nly bow'rs With saffron garlands, drest for Nuptiall Paramours,

49

Let his shrill trumpet, with her siluer blast, Of faire Eclecta, and her Spousall bed, Be the sweet pipe, and smooth Encomiast: But my greene Muse, hiding her younger head Vnder old Chamus flaggy banks, that spread Their willough locks abroad, and all the day With their owne wa••ry shadowes wanton play, Dares not those high amours, and loue-sick songs assay.

50

Impotent words, weake sides, that striue in vaine, In vaine, alas, to tell so heau'nly sight, So heav'nly sight, as none can greater ••eigne, Feigne what he can, that seemes of greatest might, Might any yet compare with Infinite? Infinite sure those ioyes, my words but light, Light is the pallace whear she dwells. O blessed wight!

Notes

• * 1.1

  Christs Tri∣umph after death. 1. in his Resurre∣ction, mani∣fested by the effects of it in the Crea∣tures.
• * 1.2

  In himselfe.
• * 1.3

  2. In his A∣scention to heauen, whose ioves are descri∣bed,
• * 1.4

  1. By the ac∣cesse of all good, the blessed So∣cietie of the Saints,
• * 1.5

  Angels, &c.
• * 1.6

  The sweete quiet and peace, inioy∣ed vnder God.
• * 1.7

  Shadowed by the peace we enioy vn∣der our So∣ueraigne.
• * 1.8

  The beauty of the place.
• * 1.9

  The Cari∣tie (as the schoole cal•• it) of the Saints bo∣dies.
• * 1.10

  The impleti∣on of the Appetite.
• * 1.11

  The ioy of the senses, &c.
• * 1.12

  2. By the a∣motion of all euill.
• * 1.13

  By the ac∣cesse of all good againe
• * 1.14

  in the glorie of the Holy Cittie.
• * 1.15

  in the bea∣tificall visi∣on of God.
• * 1.16

  And of Christ.