Begin from first where he incradled was In simple cratch, wrapt in a wad of hay, Between the toilful oxe and humble ass, And in what rags, and in how base array, The glory of our heavenly riches lay, When him the silly shepherds came to see, Whom greatest princes sought on lowest knee.
From thence read on the story of his life, His humble carriage, his unfaulty ways, His cancred foes, his fights, his toils, his strife, His pains, his poverty, his sharp assays, Through which he past his miserable dayes, Offending none, and doing good to all, Yet being malic'd both of great and small.
And look at last, how of most wretched wights He taken was, betray'd, and false accus'd, How with most scornful taunts, and fell despights He was revil'd, disgrac'd, and foul abus'd; How scourg'd, how crown'd, how buffeted, how bruis'd;
And, lastly, how 'twixt robbers crucifide,
With bitter wound through hands, through feet,
Then let thy flinty heart, that feels no pain, Empierced be with pitiful remorse,
And let thy bowels bleed in every vein At sight of his most sacred heavenly corse, So torn and mangled with malicious force;
And let thy soul, whose sins his sorrows
Melt into tears, and grone in grieved thought.
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
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,
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