| |
| AMIDST 1 the azure cleare | |
| Of Jordan’s sacred streames, | |
| Jordan, of Libanon the offspring deare, | |
| When zephires flowres vnclose, | |
| And sunne shines with new beames, | 5 |
| With graue and statelie grace a nymphe arose. | |
| |
| Vpon her head shee ware | |
| Of amaranthes a crowne; | |
| Her left hand palmes, her right a brandon 2 beare. | |
| Vnvail’d skinne’s whitenesse lay, | 10 |
| Gold haires in curles hang downe, | |
| Eyes sparkled ioy, more bright than starre of day. | |
| |
| The flood a throne her rear’d | |
| Of waues, most like that heauen | |
| Where beaming starres in glorie turne ensphear’d: | 15 |
| The air stood calme and cleare, | |
| No sigh by windes was giuen; | |
| Birdes left to sing, heards feed, her voice to heare. | |
| |
| “World-wand’ring sorrie wights, | |
| Whom no thing can content, | 20 |
| Within these varying lists of dayes and nights | |
| Whose life, ere known amisse, | |
| In glittering griefes is spent, | |
| Come learne,” said shee, “what is your choicest blisse; | |
| |
| “From toyle and pressing cares | 25 |
| How ye may respit finde, | |
| A sanctuarie from soule-thralling snares, | |
| A port to harboure sure, | |
| In spite of waues and winde, | |
| Which shall, when times’ houre-glass is runne, endure. | 30 |
| |
| “Not happie is that life | |
| Which yee as happie hold: | |
| No; but a sea of feares, a field of strife, | |
| Charg’d on a throne to sit, | |
| With diademes of gold, | 35 |
| Preseru’d by force, and still obseru’d by wit. | |
| |
| “Huge treasures to enioy, | |
| Of all her gemmes spoyle Inde, | |
| All Seres’ silke in garments to imploy, | |
| Deliciouslie to feed, | 40 |
| The phœnix’ plumes to finde | |
| To rest vpon, or decke your purple bed; | |
| |
| “Fraile beautie to abuse, | |
| And, wanton Sybarites, | |
| On past or present touch of sense to muse; | 45 |
| Neuer to hear of noise | |
| But what the ear delites, | |
| Sweet musick’s charmes, or charming flatterer’s voice. | |
| |
| “Nor can it blisse you bring, | |
| Hidde nature’s depthes to know, | 50 |
| Why matter changeth, whence each forme doth spring; | |
| Nor that your fame should range, | |
| And after-worlds it blow | |
| From Tanais to Nile, from Nile to Gange. | |
| |
| “All these haue not the powre | 55 |
| To free the minde from feares, | |
| Nor hiddeous horror can allay one howre, | |
| When Death in stealthe doth glance, | |
| In sickness lurke or yeares, | |
| And wakes the soule from out her mortall trance. | 60 |
| |
| “No; but blest life is this: | |
| With chaste and pure desire | |
| To turne vnto the load-starre of all blisse, | |
| On God the minde to rest, | |
| Burnt vp with sacred fire, | 65 |
| Possessing him, to bee by him possest; | |
| |
| “When to the baulmie east | |
| Sunne doth his light imparte, | |
| Or when he diueth in the lowlie west | |
| And rauisheth the day, | 70 |
| With spotlesse hand and hart, | |
| Him cheerefullie to praise, and to Him pray; | |
| |
| “To heed each action so | |
| As euer in his sight, | |
| More fearing doing ill than passiue woe; | 75 |
| Not to seeme other thing | |
| Than what yee are aright; | |
| Neuer to doe what may repentance bring: | |
| |
| “Not to bee blowne with pride, | |
| Nor mou’d at glorie’s breath, | 80 |
| Which, shadow-like, on wings of time doth glide; | |
| So malice to disarme, | |
| And conquer hastie wrath, | |
| As to doe good to those that worke your harme: | |
| |
| “To hatch no base desires, | 85 |
| Or gold or land to gaine, | |
| Well pleased with what by vertue one acquires; | |
| To haue the wit and will | |
| Consorting in one straine, | |
| Than what is good to haue no higher skill: | 90 |
| |
| “Neuer on neighbour’s well | |
| With cockatrice’s eye | |
| To look, nor make another’s heauen your hell; | |
| Nor to be beautie’s thrall; | |
| All fruitlesse loue to flie, | 95 |
| Yet louing still a loue transcending all,— | |
| |
| “A loue, which, while it burnes | |
| The soule with fairest beames, | |
| To that vncreatde Sunne the soule it turnes, | |
| And makes such beautie proue | 100 |
| That, if sense saw her gleames, | |
| All lookers-on would pine and die for loue. | |
| |
| “Who such a life doth liue | |
| Yee happie euen may call, | |
| Ere ruthlesse Death a whished end him giue; | 105 |
| And after then, when giuen, | |
| More happie by his fall, | |
| For humane’s earth enioying angels’ heauen. | |
| |
| “Swift is your mortall race, | |
| And glassie is the field; | 110 |
| Vaste are desires not limited by grace: | |
| Life a weak tapper is; | |
| Then while it light doth yeeld, | |
| Leaue flying ioyes, embrace this lasting blisse.” | |
| |
| This when the nymph had said, | 115 |
| She diu’d within the flood, | |
| Whose face with smyling curles long after staid; | |
| Then sighes did zephyres presse, | |
| Birdes sang from euerie wood, | |
| And ecchoes rang—“This was true happinesse.” | 120 |
