Part 79 (2/2)

But being for a bride, prayer was such A decried course, sure it prevailed not much.

Hadst ne'er an oath nor compliment? thou wert An odd, dull suitor; hadst thou but the art Of these our days, thou couldst have coined thee twenty New several oaths, and compliments, too, plenty.

O sad and wild excess! and happy those White days, that durst no impious mirth expose: When conscience by lewd use had not lost sense, Nor bold-faced custom banished innocence!

Thou hadst no pompous train, nor antic crowd Of young, gay swearers, with their needless, loud Retinue; all was here smooth as thy bride, And calm like her, or that mild evening-tide.

Yet hadst thou n.o.bler guests: angels did wind And rove about thee, guardians of thy mind; These fetched thee home thy bride, and all the way Advised thy servant what to do and say; These taught him at the well, and thither brought The chaste and lovely object of thy thought.

But here was ne'er a compliment, not one Spruce, supple cringe, or studied look put on.

All was plain, modest truth: nor did she come In rolls and curls, mincing and stately dumb; But in a virgin's native blush and fears, Fresh as those roses which the day-spring wears.

O sweet, divine simplicity! O grace Beyond a curled lock or painted face!

A pitcher too she had, nor thought it much To carry that, which some would scorn to touch; With, which in mild, chaste language she did woo To draw him drink, and for his camels too.

And now thou knew'st her coming, it was time To get thee wings on, and devoutly climb Unto thy G.o.d; for marriage of all states Makes most unhappy, or most fortunates.

This brought thee forth, where now thou didst undress Thy soul, and with new pinions refresh Her wearied wings, which, so restored, did fly Above the stars, a track unknown and high; And in her piercing flight perfumed the air, Scattering the myrrh and incense of thy prayer.

So from Lahai-roi[1]'s well some spicy cloud, Wooed by the sun, swells up to be his shroud, And from her moist womb weeps a fragrant shower, Which, scattered in a thousand pearls, each flower And herb partakes; where having stood awhile, And something cooled the parched and thirsty isle, The thankful earth unlocks herself, and blends A thousand odours, which, all mixed, she sends Up in one cloud, and so returns the skies That dew they lent, a breathing sacrifice.

Thus soared thy soul, who, though young, didst inherit Together with his blood thy father's spirit, Whose active zeal and tried faith were to thee Familiar ever since thy infancy.

Others were timed and trained up to't, but thou Didst thy swift years in piety outgrow.

Age made them reverend and a snowy head, But thou wert so, ere time his snow could shed.

Then who would truly limn thee out must paint First a young patriarch, then a married saint.

[1] 'Lahai-roi:' a well in the south country where Jacob dwelt, between Kadesh and Bered; _Heb.,_ The well of him that liveth and seeth me.

MAN'S FALL AND RECOVERY.

Farewell, you everlasting hills! I'm cast Here under clouds, where storms and tempests blast This sullied flower, Robbed of your calm; nor can I ever make, Transplanted thus, one leaf of his t'awake; But every hour He sleeps and droops; and in this drowsy state Leaves me a slave to pa.s.sions and my fate.

Besides I've lost A train of lights, which in those suns.h.i.+ne days Were my sure guides; and only with me stays, Unto my cost, One sullen beam, whose charge is to dispense More punishment than knowledge to my sense.

Two thousand years I sojourned thus. At last Jeshurun's king Those famous tables did from Sinai bring.

These swelled my fears, Guilts, trespa.s.ses, and all this inward awe; For sin took strength and vigour from the law.

Yet have I found A plenteous way, (thanks to that Holy One!) To cancel all that e'er was writ in stone.

His saving wound Wept blood that broke this adamant, and gave To sinners confidence, life to the grave.

This makes me span My fathers' journeys, and in one fair step O'er all their pilgrimage and labours leap.

For G.o.d, made man, Reduced the extent of works of faith; so made Of their Red Sea a spring: I wash, they wade.

'As by the offence of one the fault came on all men to condemnation; so by the righteousness of one, the benefit abounded towards all men to the justification of life.'--ROM. v. 18.

THE SHOWER.

1 'Twas so; I saw thy birth. That drowsy lake From her faint bosom breathed thee, the disease Of her sick waters, and infectious ease.

But now at even, Too gross for heaven, Thou fall'st in tears, and weep'st for thy mistake.

2 Ah! it is so with me; oft have I pressed Heaven with a lazy breath; but fruitless this Pierced not; love only can with quick access Unlock the way, When all else stray, The smoke and exhalations of the breast.

3 Yet if, as thou dost melt, and, with thy train Of drops, make soft the earth, my eyes could weep O'er my hard heart, that's bound up and asleep, Perhaps at last, Some such showers past, My G.o.d would give a suns.h.i.+ne after rain.

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