Then rouse thy self, O Earth! out of thy soil,
In which thou wallowest like to filthy swine,
And doest thy mind in dirty pleasures moil;
Unmindful of that dearest Lord of thine;
Lift up to him thy heavie clouded eyne,
That thou this soveraine bounty mayst be-
hold,
And read, through love, his mercies manifold.
Begin from first, where he encradled was
In simple cratch, wrapt in a wad of hay,
Between the toylfull ox 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 in the storie of his life,
His humble carriage, his unfaulty ways,
His canker'd foes, his fights, his toyle, his strife,
His pains, his povertie, his sharpe assayes,
Through which he past his miserable dayes,
Offending none, and doing good to all,
Yet being malist both by great and small.
And look at last, how of most wretched wights
He taken was, betray'd, and false accused,
How with most scornful taunts, and fell de-
spights
He was revil'd, disgrac'd, and foule abused;
How scourged, how crown'd, how buffeted, how
bruised;
And, lastly, how 'twixt robbers crucify'd,
ith bitter wounds through hands, through feet, and side!
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 wrought,
Melt into tears, and groan in grieved thought.
With sense whereof, whilst so thy softened spirit
Is inly touch'd, and humbled with meek zeal
Through meditation of his endless merit,
Lift up thy mind to th' Author of thy weal,
And to his soveraine mercie 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
Weak fancies, and stir up affections base,
Thou must renounce and utterly displace,
And give thy self unto him full and free,
That full and freely gave himself to thee.
Then shalt thou feel thy spirit so possest,
And ravish'd with devouring great desire
Of his dear selfe, that shall thy feeble breast
Inflame with love, and set thee all on fire
With burning zeal, 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 dye, And all Earth's glorie, on which men do gaze,
Seem dust and dross in thy pure-sighted eye,
Compar'd to that celestial beauties blaze,
Whose glorious beams all fleshly sense doth daze
With admiration of their passing light,
Blinding the eyes, and lumining the spright.
Then shall thy ravish'd soul inspired be
With heavenly thoughts, far above human skill,
And thy bright radiant eyes shall plainly see
Th' idea of his pure glorie present still
Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill
With sweet enragement of celestial love,
Kindled through sight of those fair things above.
UNA FOLLOWED BY THE LION:
From the Legend of Holiness-Fairy Queen.
Forsaken Truth long seeks her love,
And makes the Lion mild.
NOUGHT is there under Heaven's wide hollowness,
That moves more dear compassioun of mind,
Than beauty brought t'unworthy wretchedness,
Through envy's snares, or fortune's freaks unkind.
I, whether lately through her brightness blind,
Or through allegiance and fast feälty,
Which I do owe unto all womankind,
Feel my heart pierc'd with so great agony,
When such I see, that all for pity I could die.
And now it is impassioned so deep,
For fairest Una's sake, of whom I sing,
That my frail eyes these lines with tears do steep,
To think how she through guileful handelling,
Though true as touch, though daughter of a king,
Though fair as ever living wight was fair,
Though nor in word nor deed ill meriting,
Is from her knight divorced in despair,
And her due love's derived to that vile witch's share.
Yet she, most faithful lady, all this while
Forsaken, woful, solitary maid,
Far from all people's preace, (a) as in exile,
In wilderness and wasteful deserts stray'd,
To seek her knight, who, subtily betray'd
Through that late vision, which th' enchanter
wrought,
Had her abandon'd: she, of nought afraid, Through woods and wasteness wide him daily sought;
Yet wished tidings none of him unto her brought.
One day, nigh weary of the irksome way,
From her unhasty beast she did alight;
And on the grass her dainty limbs did lay
In secret shadow, far from all men's sight;
From her fair head her fillet she undight,
And laid her stole aside: her angel's face,
As the great eye of heaven, shined bright,
And made a sunshine in a shady place;
Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace.
It fortuned, out of the thickest wood,
A ramping lion rushed suddenly,
Hunting full greedy after savage blood;
Soon as the royal virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have at once devour'd her tender corse ;*
But to the prey when as he drew more nigh,
His bloody rage assuaged with remorse,
And, with the sight amaz'd, forgot his furious force.
Instead thereof he kiss'd her weary feet,
And lick'd her lily hands with fawning tongue,
As he her wronged innocence did weet.
O how can beauty master the most strong,
And simple truth subdue avenging wrong!
Whose yielded pride and proud submission,
Still dreading death, when she had marked long,
Her heart 'gan melt in great compassion,
And drizzling tears did shed for pure affection.
“The lion, lord of every beast in field,”
Quoth she," his princely puissance doth abate,
And mighty proud to humble weak does yield,
Forgetful of the hungry rage which late
Him prick'd, in pity of my sad estate :
But he, my lion, and my noble lord,
How does he find in cruel heart to hate
Her that him lov'd, and ever most ador'd
As the God of my life? why hath he me abhorred ?"
Redounding tears did choke th' end of her plaint,
Which softly echoed from the neighbour wood;
And, sad to see her sorrowful constraint,
The kingly beast upon her gazing stood;
With pity calm'd, down fell his angry mood.
At last, in close heart shutting up her pain,
Arose the virgin, born of heavenly blood,
And to her snowy palfrey got again,
To seek her strayed champion, if she might attain.
|