X.
This Thy blood's deluge (a dire chance, Dear Lord, to Thee) to vs is found A deluge of deliuerance; A deluge least we should be drown'd. _lest_ N'ere wast Thou in a sense so sadly true, The well of liuing waters, Lord, till now.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
The title in 1646 is 'On the bleeding wounds of our crucified Lord:' in 1648 has 'body' for 'wounds:' in 1670 as 1646. I record these variations, &c.:
St. i. lines 2 and 3, in 1646 and 1670 read
'From Thy hands and from Thy feet, From Thy head and from Thy side.'
So the SANCROFT MS.
St. ii. In 1646 and 1670 this stanza is the 5th, and in line 2 has 'teares' for 'showres.'
St. iii. This stanza, by some strange oversight, is wholly dropped in 1652. St. iii. not in SANCROFT MS., and our st. ii. is the last. On one of the fly-leaves of the copy of 1646 edition in Trinity College, Cambridge, is the following contemporary MS. epigram, which embodies the sentiment of the stanza:
'_In caput Xti spinis coronatum._ Cerno Caput si Christe tuum mihi vertitur omne In spinis illud, quod fuit ante rosa.'
Turnbull gives the stanza, but misplaces it after our st. vi., overlooking that our st. ii. is in 1646 edition st. v.
St. iv. line 1: in 1646 and 1670 'they' for 'now.'
Line 3, ib. 'as they are wont'--evident inadvertence, as 'ever' is required by the measure.
Line 4, ib. 'blood' for 'floud:' so also in 1648.
St. v. line 1, ib. 'hand' for 'hands:' 'hand' in 1648, and in SANCROFT MS.: adopted. Line 4, 'dropps' in SANCROFT MS. for 'gives.'
St. vi. line 3. Our text (1652) prints 'pharian,' the Paris printer spelling (and mis-spelling) without comprehending the reference to Pharaoh.
St. vii. line 1, in 1646 and 1670 'not a haire but ...'
St. ix. line 3, in 1648 a capital in 'All's.' G.
TO THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME, THE NAME OF IESVS:
A HYMN.[33]
In Vnitate Devs Est Numisma Vrbani 6.
I sing the name which none can say 1 But touch't with an interiour ray: The name of our new peace; our good: Our blisse: and supernaturall blood: The name of all our liues and loues. 5 Hearken, and help, ye holy doues! The high-born brood of Day; you bright Candidates of blissefull light, The heirs elect of Loue, whose names belong Vnto the euerlasting life of song; 10 All ye wise sovles, who in the wealthy brest Of this vnbounded name, build your warm nest. Awake, my glory, Sovl (if such thou be, And that fair word at all referr to thee), Awake and sing, 15 And be all wing; Bring hither thy whole self; and let me see What of thy parent Heavn yet speakes in thee. O thou art poore Of noble powres, I see, 20 And full of nothing else but empty me: Narrow, and low, and infinitely lesse Then this great morning's mighty busynes. One little world or two (Alas) will neuer doe; 25 We must haue store. Goe, Sovl, out of thy self, and seek for more. Goe and request Great Natvre for the key of her huge chest Of Heauns, the self-inuoluing sett of sphears 30 (Which dull mortality more feeles then heares). Then rouse the nest Of nimble Art, and trauerse round The aiery shop of soul-appeasing sound: And beat a summons in the same 35 All-soueraign name, To warn each seuerall kind And shape of sweetnes, be they such As sigh with supple wind Or answer artfull touch; 40 That they conuene and come away To wait at the loue-crowned doores of this illustrious day. _love_ Shall we dare this, my Soul? we'l doe't and bring No other note for't, but the name we sing. Wake lvte and harp, and euery sweet-lipp't thing 45 That talkes with tunefull string; Start into life, and leap with me Into a hasty fitt-tun'd harmony. Nor must you think it much T' obey my bolder touch; 50 I haue authority in Love's name to take you, And to the worke of Loue this morning wake you. Wake, in the name Of Him Who neuer sleeps, all things that are, Or, what's the same, 55 Are musicall; Answer my call And come along; Help me to meditate mine immortal song. Come, ye soft ministers of sweet sad mirth, 60 Bring all your houshold stuffe of Heaun on earth; O you, my Soul's most certain wings, Complaining pipes, and prattling strings, Bring all the store Of sweets you haue; and murmur that you haue no more. 65 Come, ne're to part, Nature and Art! Come; and come strong, To the conspiracy of our spatious song. Bring all the powres of praise, 70 Your prouinces of well-vnited worlds can raise; Bring all your lvtes and harps of Heavn and Earth; Whatere cooperates to the common mirthe: Vessells of vocall ioyes, Or you, more noble architects of intellectuall noise, 75 Cymballs of Heau'n, or humane sphears, Solliciters of sovles or eares; And when you are come, with all That you can bring or we can call: O may you fix 80 For euer here, and mix Your selues into the long And euerlasting series of a deathlesse song; Mix all your many worlds aboue, And loose them into one of loue. 85 Chear thee my heart! For thou too hast thy part And place in the Great Throng Of this vnbounded all-imbracing song. Powres of my soul, be proud! 90 And speake lowd To all the dear-bought Nations, this redeeming Name, And in the wealth of one rich word, proclaim New similes to Nature. May it be no wrong Blest Heauns, to you and your superiour song, 95 That we, dark sons of dust and sorrow, A while dare borrow The name of your dilights, and our desires, And fitt it to so farr inferior lyres. Our murmurs haue their musick too, 100 Ye mighty Orbes, as well as you; Nor yeilds the noblest nest Of warbling Seraphim to the eares of Loue, A choicer lesson then the ioyfull brest Of a poor panting turtle-doue. 105 And we, low wormes, haue leaue to doe The same bright busynes (ye Third Heavens) with you. Gentle spirits, doe not complain! We will haue care To keep it fair, 110 And send it back to you again. Come, louely Name! Appeare from forth the bright Regions of peacefull light; Look from Thine Own illustrious home, Fair King of names, and come: 115 Leaue all Thy natiue glories in their gorgeous nest, And giue Thy Self a while the gracious Guest Of humble soules, that seek to find The hidden sweets Which man's heart meets 120 When Thou art Master of the mind. Come louely Name; Life of our hope! Lo, we hold our hearts wide ope! Vnlock Thy cabinet of Day, Dearest Sweet, and come away. 125 Lo, how the thirsty Lands Gasp for Thy golden showres! with long-stretcht hands Lo, how the laboring Earth That hopes to be All Heauen by Thee, 130 Leapes at Thy birth! The' attending World, to wait Thy rise, First turn'd to eyes; And then, not knowing what to doe, Turn'd them to teares, and spent them too. 135 Come royall Name! and pay the expence Of all this pretious patience; O come away And kill the death of this delay! O, see so many worlds of barren yeares 140 Melted and measur'd out in seas of teares: O, see the weary liddes of wakefull Hope (Love's eastern windowes) all wide ope With curtains drawn, To catch the day-break of Thy dawn. 145 O, dawn at last, long-lookt for Day! Take Thine own wings, and come away. Lo, where aloft it comes! It comes, among The conduct of adoring spirits, that throng Like diligent bees, and swarm about it. 150 O, they are wise, And know what sweetes are suck't from out it: It is the hiue, By which they thriue, Where all their hoard of hony lyes. 155 Lo, where it comes, vpon the snowy Dove's Soft back; and brings a bosom big with loues: Welcome to our dark world, Thou womb of Day! Vnfold Thy fair conceptions, and display The birth of our bright ioyes, O Thou compacted 160 Body of blessings: Spirit of soules extracted! O, dissipate Thy spicy powres, (Cloud of condensed sweets) and break vpon vs In balmy showrs! O, fill our senses, and take from vs all force of so prophane a fallacy, 165 To think ought sweet but that which smells of Thee! Fair, flowry Name, in none but Thee And Thy nectareall fragrancy, Hourly there meetes An vniuersall synod of all sweets; 170 By whom it is defined thus, That no perfume For euer shall presume To passe for odoriferous, But such alone whose sacred pedigree 175 Can proue itself some kin (sweet Name!) to Thee. Sweet Name, in Thy each syllable A thousand blest Arabias dwell; A thousand hills of frankincense, Mountains of myrrh, and beds of spices 180 And ten thousand paradises, The soul that tasts Thee takes from thence. How many vnknown worlds there are Of comforts, which Thou hast in keeping! How many thousand mercyes there 185 In Pitty's soft lap ly a-sleeping! Happy he who has the art To awake them, And to take them Home, and lodge them in his heart. 190 O, that it were as it was wont to be! When Thy old freinds of fire, all full of Thee, Fought against frowns with smiles; gaue glorious chase To persecutions; and against the face Of Death and feircest dangers, durst with braue 195 And sober pace, march on to meet A GRAVE. On their bold brests, about the world they bore Thee, And to the teeth of Hell stood vp to teach Thee; In center of their inmost soules, they wore Thee, Where rackes and torments striu'd, in vain, to reach Thee. 200 Little, alas, thought they Who tore the fair brests of Thy freinds, Their fury but made way For Thee, and seru'd them in Thy glorious ends. What did their weapons but with wider pores 205 Inlarge Thy flaming-brested louers, More freely to transpire That impatient fire, The heart that hides Thee hardly couers? What did their weapons but sett wide the doores 210 For Thee? fair, purple doores, of Loue's deuising; The ruby windowes which inricht the East Of Thy so oft-repeated rising! Each wound of theirs was Thy new morning, And reinthron'd Thee in Thy rosy nest, 215 With blush of Thine Own blood Thy day adorning: It was the witt of Loue oreflowd the bounds Of Wrath, and made Thee way through all those wovnds. Wellcome, dear, all-adored Name! For sure there is no knee 220 That knowes not Thee: Or, if there be such sonns of shame, Alas! what will they doe When stubborn rocks shall bow And hills hang down their heaun-saluting heads 225 To seek for humble beds Of dust, where in the bashfull shades of Night Next to their own low Nothing, they may ly, And couch before the dazeling light of Thy dread majesty. They that by Loue's mild dictate now 230 Will not adore Thee, Shall then, with just confusion bow And break before Thee.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
The title in 1648 'Steps' is simply 'On the name of Jesus.' In 1670 it is 'To the Name above every Name, the Name of Jesus, a Hymn,' and throughout differs from our text (1652) only in usual modernisation of orthography. The text of 1648 yields these readings:
Line 7, 'the bright.'
" 42, 'of th's.'
" 49, 'Into a habit fit of self tun'd Harmonie.'
" 79, 'you're.'
" 92, 'aloud.'
" 105, 'Seraphins.'
" 106, 'loyall' for 'joyfull.'
" 132, 'heavens.'
" 182 spells 'sillabell.'
" 187, 'The soules tastes thee takes from thence.'
" 202, 'bare.'
" 204, 'ware.'
" 209, 'For Thee: And serv'd therein thy glorious ends.'
See our Essay for critical remarks on the measure and rhythm of this poem as printed in our text (1652). G.
PSALME XXIII.[34]
Happy me! O happy sheepe! 1 Whom my God vouchsafes to keepe; Even my God, even He it is, That points me to these paths of blisse; On Whose pastures cheerefull Spring, 5 All the yeare doth sit and sing, And rejoycing, smiles to see Their green backs weare His liverie: Pleasure sings my soul to rest, Plentie weares me at her brest, 10 Whose sweet temper teaches me Nor wanton, nor in want to be. At my feet, the blubb'ring mountaine Weeping, melts into a fountaine; Whose soft, silver-sweating streames 15 Make high-noon forget his beames: When my wayward breath is flying, He calls home my soul from dying; Strokes and tames my rabid griefe, And does wooe me into life: 20 When my simple weaknes strayes, (Tangled in forbidden wayes) He (my Shepheard) is my guide, Hee's before me, on my side, And behind me, He beguiles 25 Craft in all her knottie wiles: He expounds the weary wonder Of my giddy steps, and under Spreads a path, cleare as the day, Where no churlish rub says nay 30 To my joy-conducted feet, Whilst they gladly goe to meet Grace and Peace, to learne new laies, Tun'd to my great Shepheard's praise. Come now all ye terrors sally, 35 Muster forth into the valley, Where triumphant darknesse hovers With a sable wing, that covers Brooding horror. Come, thou Death, Let the damps of thy dull breath 40 Over-shadow even that shade, And make Darknes' selfe afraid; There my feet, even there, shall find Way for a resolved mind. Still my Shepheard, still my God, 45 Thou art with me; still Thy rod, And Thy staffe, whose influence Gives direction, gives defence. At the whisper of Thy word Crown'd abundance spreads my boord: 50 While I feast, my foes doe feed Their ranck malice not their need, So that with the self-same bread They are starv'd and I am fed. How my head in ointment swims! 55 How my cup o'relooks her brims! So, even so still may I move, By the line of Thy deare love; Still may Thy sweet mercy spread A shady arme above my head, 60 About my paths; so shall I find, The faire center of my mind, Thy temple, and those lovely walls Bright ever with a beame, that falls Fresh from the pure glance of Thine eye, 65 Lighting to Eternity. There I'le dwell for ever; there Will I find a purer aire To feed my life with, there I'le sup Balme and nectar in my cup; 70 And thence my ripe soule will I breath Warme into the armes of Death.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
In the SANCROFT MS. this is headed 'Ps. 23 (Paraphrasia).' In line 4 it reads 'paths' for 'wayes,' which I accept; line 27 'weary' for 'giddy,' and line 28 'giddy' for 'weary,' both adopted; line 29 reads as we have printed instead of 'Spreads a path as cleare as day;' line 33, 'learne' for 'meet,' adopted; line 41, 'that' for 'the,' adopted. Only orthographic further variations. In line 30 'rub' = obstruction, reminds of SHAKESPEARE'S 'Now every _rub_ is smoothed in our way' (Henry V. ii. 2), and elsewhere. G.
PSALM CXXXVII.[35]
On the proud banks of great Euphrates' flood, 1 There we sate, and there we wept: Our harpes, that now no musick understood, Nodding, on the willowes slept: While unhappy captiv'd wee, 5 Lovely Sion, thought on thee. They, they that snatcht us from our countrie's breast, Would have a song carv'd to their eares In Hebrew numbers, then (O cruell jest!) When harpes and hearts were drown'd in teares: 10 Come, they cry'd, come sing and play One of Sion's songs to-day. Sing? play? to whom (ah!) shall we sing or play, If not, Jerusalem, to thee? Ah! thee Jerusalem! ah! sooner may 15 This hand forget the masterie Of Musick's dainty touch, than I The musick of thy memory. Which when I lose, O may at once my tongue Lose this same busie-speaking art, 20 Vnpearch't, her vocall arteries unstrung, No more acquainted with my heart, On my dry pallat's roof to rest A wither'd leaf, an idle guest. No, no, Thy good Sion, alone, must crowne 25 The head of all my hope-nurst joyes. But Edom, cruell thou! thou cryd'st downe, downe Sinke Sion, downe and never rise, Her falling thou did'st urge and thrust, And haste to dash her into dust: 30 Dost laugh? proud Babel's daughter! do, laugh on, Till thy ruine teach thee teares, Even such as these; laugh, till a venging throng Of woes, too late, doe rouze thy feares: Laugh, till thy children's bleeding bones 35 Weepe pretious teares upon the stones.
IN THE HOLY NATIVITY OF OVR LORD GOD:
A HYMN SVNG AS BY THE SHEPHEARDS.[36]
THE HYMN.
_Chorvs._
Come, we shepheards, whose blest sight 1 Hath mett Loue's noon in Nature's night; Come, lift we vp our loftyer song And wake the svn that lyes too long.
To all our world of well-stoln joy 5 He slept; and dreamt of no such thing. While we found out Heaun's fairer ey And kis't the cradle of our King. Tell him He rises now, too late To show vs ought worth looking at. 10
Tell him we now can show him more Then he e're show'd to mortall sight; Then he himselfe e're saw before, Which to be seen needes not his light. Tell him, Tityrus, where th' hast been, 15 Tell him Thyrsis, what th' hast seen.
TITYRUS.
Gloomy night embrac't the place Where the noble Infant lay. The Babe look't vp and shew'd His face; In spite of darknes, it was day. 20 It was Thy day, Sweet! and did rise Not from the East, but from Thine eyes.
_Chorus._ It was Thy day, Sweet.
THYRSIS.
Winter chidde aloud, and sent The angry North to wage his warres. 25 The North forgott his feirce intent, And left perfumes in stead of scarres. By those sweet eyes' persuasiue powrs Where he mean't frost, he scatter'd flowrs.
_Chorus._ By those sweet eyes. 30
BOTH.
We saw Thee in Thy baulmy-nest, Young dawn of our aeternall Day! We saw Thine eyes break from their East And chase the trembling shades away. We saw Thee; and we blest the sight, 35 We saw Thee by Thine Own sweet light.
TITYRUS.
Poor world (said I), what wilt thou doe To entertain this starry Stranger? Is this the best thou canst bestow? A cold, and not too cleanly, manger? 40 Contend, the powres of Heau'n and Earth, To fitt a bed for this huge birthe?
_Chorus._ Contend the powers.
THYRSIS.
Proud world, said I, cease your contest And let the mighty Babe alone. 45 The phaenix builds the phaenix' nest, Lov's architecture is his own. The Babe whose birth embraues this morn, Made His Own bed e're He was born.
_Chorus._ The Babe whose.... 50
TITYRUS.
I saw the curl'd drops, soft and slow, Come houering o're the place's head; Offring their whitest sheets of snow To furnish the fair Infant's bed: Forbear, said I; be not too bold, 55 Your fleece is white but 'tis too cold.
_Chorus._ Forbear, sayd I.
THYRSIS.
I saw the obsequious Seraphims Their rosy fleece of fire bestow. For well they now can spare their wing, 60 Since Heavn itself lyes here below. Well done, said I; but are you sure Your down so warm, will passe for pure?
_Chorus._ Well done, sayd I.
TITYRUS.
No, no! your King's not yet to seeke 65 Where to repose His royall head; See, see! how soon His new-bloom'd cheek Twixt's mother's brests is gone to bed. Sweet choise, said we! no way but so Not to ly cold, yet sleep in snow. 70
_Chorus._ Sweet choise, said we.
BOTH.
We saw Thee in Thy baulmy nest, Bright dawn of our aeternall Day! We saw Thine eyes break from their East And chase the trembling shades away. 75 We saw Thee: and we blest the sight, We saw Thee, by Thine Own sweet light.
_Chorus._ We saw Thee, &c.
FVLL CHORVS.
Wellcome, all wonders in one sight! Aeternity shutt in a span! 80 Sommer in Winter, Day in Night! Heauen in Earth, and God in man! Great, little One! Whose all-embracing birth Lifts Earth to Heauen, stoopes Heau'n to Earth.
Wellcome, though not to gold nor silk, 85 To more then Caesar's birth-right is; Two sister-seas of virgin-milk, With many a rarely-temper'd kisse, That breathes at once both maid and mother, Warmes in the one, cooles in the other. 90 Shee sings Thy tears asleep, and dips Her kisses in Thy weeping eye; She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips, That in their buds yet blushing lye; She 'gainst those mother-diamonds, tries 95 The points of her young eagle's eyes. Wellcome, though not to those gay flyes, Guilded i' th' beames of earthly kings; Slippery soules in smiling eyes; But to poor shepheards' home-spun things; 100 Whose wealth's their flock; whose witt, to be Well-read in their simplicity. Yet when young April's husband-showrs Shall blesse the fruitfull Maja's bed, We'l bring the first-born of her flowrs 105 To kisse Thy feet and crown Thy head. To Thee, dread Lamb! Whose loue must keep The shepheards, more then they the sheep.
To Thee, meek Majesty! soft King Of simple Graces and sweet Loves: 110 Each of vs his lamb will bring, Each his pair of sylver doues: Till burnt at last in fire of Thy fair eyes, Ourselues become our own best sacrifice.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
In the SANCROFT MS. the heading is simply 'A Hymne of the Nativitie sung by the Shepheards.' It furnishes these various readings, though it wants a good deal of our text (1652):
Lines 1 to 4,
'who haue seene Daie's King deposed by night's Queene. Come lift we up our lofty song, To wake the sun that sleeps too long.'
" 5 to 7,
'Hee (in this our generall joy) Slept ... ... the faire-ey'd boy.'
" 24, 'Winter chid the world ...'
" 32, 'Bright dawne ...'
" 58 to 63,
'I saw the officious angells bring The downe that their soft breasts did strow: For well they now can spare their wings, When heauen itselfe lies here below. Faire youth (said I) be not too rough, Thy downe (though soft)'s not soft enough.'
'Officious' = ready to do good offices: 'obsequious' = obedient, eager to serve.
Lines 65 to 68,
'The Babe noe sooner 'gan to seeke Where to lay His louely head; But streight His eyes advis'd His cheeke 'Twixt's mother's breasts to goe to bed.'
" 79, 'Welcome to our wond'ring sight.'
" 83, 'glorious birth.'
" 85, 'not to gold' for 'nor to gold:' adopted.
" 96, 'points' = pupils (?).
Lines 101 to 103,
'But to poore shepheards' simple things, That vse not varnish; noe oyl'd arts, But lift cleane hands full of cleare hearts.'
" 108, '... while they feed the sheepe.'
" 114, 'Wee'l burne ...'
These variations agree with the text of 1646. See our Essay for critical remarks. G.
NEW YEAR'S DAY.[37]
Rise, thou best and brightest morning! Rosy with a double red; With thine own blush thy cheeks adorning, And the dear drops this day were shed.
All the purple pride, that laces The crimson curtains of thy bed, Guilds thee not with so sweet graces, Nor setts thee in so rich a red.
Of all the fair-cheek't flowrs that fill thee, None so fair thy bosom strowes, As this modest maiden lilly Our sins haue sham'd into a rose.
Bid thy golden god, the sun, Burnisht in his best beames rise, Put all his red-ey'd rubies on; These rubies shall putt out their eyes.
Let him make poor the purple East, Search what the world's close cabinets keep, Rob the rich births of each bright nest That flaming in their fair beds sleep.
Let him embraue his own bright tresses With a new morning made of gemmes; And wear, in those his wealthy dresses, Another day of diadems.
When he hath done all he may To make himselfe rich in his rise, All will be darknes to the day That breakes from one of these bright eyes.
And soon this sweet truth shall appear, Dear Babe, ere many dayes be done; The Morn shall come to meet Thee here, And leaue her own neglected sun.
Here are beautyes shall bereaue him Of all his eastern paramours. His Persian louers all shall leaue him, And swear faith to Thy sweeter powres; Nor while they leave him shall they lose the sun, But in Thy fairest eyes find two for one.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
St. ii. line 1,
'All the purple pride that laces;'
the reference is to the empurpled lighter and lace- (or gauze-) like clouds of the morning. The heavier clouds are the 'crimson curtains,' the 'purple laces' the fleecy, lace-like, and empurpled streakings of the lighter and dissolving clouds, which the Poet likens to the lace that edged the coverlet, and possibly other parts of the bed and bedstead. SHAKESPEARE describes a similar appearance with the same word, but uses it in the sense of inter or cross lacing, when he makes Juliet say (iii. 5),
'look, love, what envious streaks Do _lace_ the severing clouds in yonder East.'
So too in stanza v. 'each sparkling nest,' the flame-coloured clouds are intended. 'Nest,' like 'bud,' is a favourite word with CRASHAW, and he uses it freely. In 1648 edition, st. iii. line 2 reads 'showes;' stanza v. line 2, 'cabinets;' stanza viii. line 5, 'and meet;' stanza ix. 'paramours' = lovers, wooers, _not_ as now signifying loose love. G.
IN THE GLORIOVS EPIPHANIE OF OVR LORD GOD:
A HYMN SVNG AS BY THE THREE KINGS.[38]
_1 Kinge._ Bright Babe! Whose awfull beautyes make 1 The morn incurr a sweet mistake;
_2 Kinge._ For Whom the officious Heauns deuise To disinheritt the sun's rise:
_3 Kinge._ Delicately to displace 5 The day, and plant it fairer in Thy face.
_1 Kinge._ O Thou born King of loues!
_2 Kinge._ Of lights!
_3 Kinge._ Of ioyes!
_Chorus._ Look vp, sweet Babe, look vp and see 10 For loue of Thee, Thus farr from home The East is come To seek her self in Thy sweet eyes.
_1 Kinge._ We, who strangely went astray, 15 Lost in a bright Meridian night.
_2 Kinge._ A darknes made of too much day.
_3 Kinge._ Becken'd from farr By Thy fair starr, 20 Lo, at last haue found our way.
_Chorus._ To Thee, Thou Day of Night! Thou East of West! Lo, we at last haue found the way To Thee, the World's great vniuersal East, The generall and indifferent Day. 25
_1 Kinge._ All-circling point! all-centring sphear! The World's one, round, aeternall year:
_2 Kinge._ Whose full and all-vnwrinkled face Nor sinks nor swells with time or place;
_3 Kinge._ But euery where and euery while 30 Is one consistent, solid smile:
_1 Kinge._ Not vext and tost
_2 Kinge._ 'Twixt Spring and frost;
_3 Kinge._ Nor by alternate shredds of light, Sordidly shifting hands with shades and Night. 35
_Chorus._ O little all! in Thy embrace The World lyes warm, and likes his place; Nor does his full globe fail to be Kist on both his cheeks by Thee. Time is too narrow for Thy year, 40 Nor makes the whole World Thy half-sphear.
_1 Kinge._ To Thee, to Thee From him we flee.
_2 Kinge._ From him, whom by a more illustrious ly, The blindnes of the World did call the eye. 45
_3 Kinge._ To Him, Who by these mortall clouds hast made Thyself our sun, though Thine Own shade.
_1 Kinge._ Farewell, the World's false light! Farewell, the white Aegypt; a long farewell to thee 50 Bright idol, black idolatry: The dire face of inferior darknes, kis't And courted in the pompus mask of a more specious mist.
_2 Kinge._ Farewell, farewell The proud and misplac't gates of Hell, 55 Pertch't in the Morning's way _perched._ And double-guilded as the doores of Day: The deep hypocrisy of Death and Night More desperately dark, because more bright.
_3 Kinge._ Welcome, the World's sure way! 60 Heavn's wholsom ray.
_Chorus._ Wellcome to vs; and we (Sweet!) to our selues, in Thee.
_1 Kinge._ The deathles Heir of all Thy Father's day!
_2 Kinge._ Decently born! 65 Embosom'd in a much more rosy Morn: The blushes of Thy all-vnblemisht mother.
_3 Kinge._ No more that other Aurora shall sett ope Her ruby casements, or hereafter hope 70 From mortall eyes To meet religious welcomes at her rise.
_Chorus._ We (pretious ones!) in you haue won A gentler Morn, a iuster sun.
_1 Kinge._ His superficiall beames sun-burn't our skin; 75
_2 Kinge._ But left within
_3 Kinge._ The Night and Winter still of Death and Sin.
_Chorus._ Thy softer yet more certaine darts Spare our eyes, but peirce our harts:
_1 Kinge._ Therfore with his proud Persian spoiles 80
_2 Kinge._ We court Thy more concerning smiles.
_3 Kinge._ Therfore with his disgrace We guild the humble cheek of this chast place;
_Chorus._ And at Thy feet powr forth his face.
_1 Kinge._ The doating Nations now no more 85 Shall any day but Thine adore.
_2 Kinge._ Nor--much lesse--shall they leaue these eyes For cheap Aegyptian deityes.
_3 Kinge._ In whatsoe're more sacred shape Of ram, he-goat, or reuerend ape; 90 Those beauteous rauishers opprest so sore The too-hard-tempted nations.
_1 Kinge._ Neuer more By wanton heyfer shall be worn
_2 Kinge._ A garland, or a guilded horn: 95 The altar-stall'd ox, fatt Osyris now With his fair sister cow
_3 Kinge._ Shall kick the clouds no more; but lean and tame,
_Chorus._ See His horn'd face, and dy for shame: And Mithra now shall be no name. 100
_1 Kinge._ No longer shall the immodest lust Of adulterous godles dust
_2 Kinge._ Fly in the face of Heau'n; as if it were The poor World's fault that He is fair. 105
_3 Kinge._ Nor with peruerse loues and religious rapes Reuenge Thy bountyes in their beauteous shapes; And punish best things worst; because they stood Guilty of being much for them too good.
_1 Kinge._ Proud sons of Death! that durst compell 110 Heau'n it self to find them Hell:
_2 Kinge._ And by strange witt of madnes wrest From this World's East the other's West.
_3 Kinge._ All-idolizing wormes! that thus could crowd And vrge their sun into Thy cloud; 115 Forcing His sometimes eclips'd face to be A long deliquium to the light of Thee.
_Chorus._ Alas! with how much heauyer shade The shamefac't lamp hung down his head For that one eclipse he made, 120 Then all those he suffered!
_1 Kinge._ For this he look't so bigg; and euery morn With a red face confes't his scorn. Or hiding his vex't cheeks in a hir'd mist Kept them from being so vnkindly kis't. 125
_2 Kinge._ It was for this the Day did rise So oft with blubber'd eyes: For this the Evening wept; and we ne're knew But call'd it deaw.
_3 Kinge._ This dayly wrong 130 Silenc't the morning-sons, and damp't their song:
_Chorus._ Nor was't our deafnes, but our sins, that thus Long made th' harmonious orbes all mute to vs.
_1 Kinge._ Time has a day in store When this so proudly poor 135 And self-oppressed spark, that has so long By the loue-sick World bin made Not so much their sun as shade: Weary of this glorious wrong From them and from himself shall flee 140 For shelter to the shadow of Thy tree:
_Chorus._ Proud to haue gain'd this pretious losse And chang'd his false crown for Thy crosse.
_2 Kinge._ That dark Day's clear doom shall define Whose is the master Fire, which sun should shine: 145 That sable judgment-seat shall by new lawes Decide and settle the great cause Of controuerted light:
_Chorus._ And Natur's wrongs rejoyce to doe Thee right.
_3 Kinge._ That forfeiture of Noon to Night shall pay 150 All the idolatrous thefts done by this Night of Day; And the great Penitent presse his own pale lipps With an elaborate loue-eclipse: To which the low World's lawes Shall lend no cause, 155
_Chorus._ Saue those domestick which He borrowes From our sins and His Own sorrowes.
_1 Kinge._ Three sad hours' sackcloth then shall show to vs His penance, as our fault, conspicuous:
_2 Kinge._ And He more needfully and nobly proue 160 The Nations' terror now then erst their loue.
_3 Kinge._ Their hated loues changd into wholsom feares:
_Chorus._ The shutting of His eye shall open their's.
_1 Kinge._ As by a fair-ey'd fallacy of Day Miss-ledde, before, they lost their way; 165 So shall they, by the seasonable fright Of an vnseasonable Night, Loosing it once again, stumble on true Light:
_2 Kinge._ And as before His too-bright eye Was their more blind idolatry; 170 So his officious blindnes now shall be Their black, but faithfull perspectiue of Thee:
_3 Kinge._ His new prodigious Night, Their new and admirable light, The supernaturall dawn of Thy pure Day; 175 While wondring they (The happy conuerts now of Him Whom they compell'd before to be their sin) Shall henceforth see To kisse him only as their rod, 180 Whom they so long courted as God.
_Chorus._ And their best vse of him they worship't, be To learn of him at last, to worship Thee.
_1 Kinge._ It was their weaknes woo'd his beauty; But it shall be 185 Their wisdome now, as well as duty, To injoy his blott; and as a large black letter Vse it to spell Thy beautyes better; And make the Night it self their torch to Thee.
_2 Kinge._ By the oblique ambush of this close night 190 Couch't in that conscious shade The right-ey'd Areopagite Shall with a vigorous guesse inuade And catch Thy quick reflex; and sharply see On this dark ground 195 To descant Thee.
_3 Kinge._ O prize of the rich Spirit! with what feirce chase Of his strong soul, shall he Leap at thy lofty face, And seize the swift flash, in rebound 200 From this obsequious cloud, Once call'd a sun, Till dearly thus vndone;
_Chorus._ Till thus triumphantly tam'd (O ye two Twinne svnnes!) and taught now to negotiate you. 205
_1 Kinge._ Thus shall that reuerend child of Light,
_2 Kinge._ By being scholler first of that new Night, Come forth great master of the mystick Day;
_3 Kinge._ And teach obscure mankind a more close way By the frugall negatiue light 210 Of a most wise and well-abused Night To read more legible Thine originall ray;
_Chorus._ And make our darknes serue Thy Day: Maintaining 'twixt Thy World and oures A commerce of contrary powres, 215 A mutuall trade 'Twixt sun and shade, By confederat black and white Borrowing Day and lending Night. 219
_1 Kinge._ Thus we, who when with all the noble powres That (at Thy cost) are call'd, not vainly, ours: We vow to make braue way Vpwards, and presse on for the pure intelligentiall prey; _2 Kinge._ At least to play The amorous spyes 225 And peep and proffer at Thy sparkling throne;
_3 Kinge._ In stead of bringing in the blissfull prize And fastening on Thine eyes: Forfeit our own And nothing gain 230 But more ambitious losse at last, of brain;
_Chorus._ Now by abased liddes shall learn to be Eagles; and shutt our eyes that we may see.
_The Close._
[_Chorus._] Therfore to Thee and Thine auspitious ray (Dread Sweet!) lo thus 236 At last by vs, The delegated eye of Day Does first his scepter, then himself, in solemne tribute pay. Thus he vndresses 240 His sacred vnshorn tresses; At Thy adored feet, thus he layes down
_1 Kinge._ His gorgeous tire Of flame and fire,
_2 Kinge._ His glittering robe. _3 Kinge._ His sparkling crown; 245
_1 Kinge._ His gold: _2 Kinge._ His mirrh: _3 Kinge._ His frankincense.
_Chorus._ To which he now has no pretence: For being show'd by this Day's light, how farr He is from sun enough to make Thy starr, His best ambition now is but to be 250 Somthing a brighter shadow, Sweet, of Thee. Or on Heaun's azure forhead high to stand Thy golden index; with a duteous hand Pointing vs home to our own sun The World's and his Hyperion. 255
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
The title in 1648 edition is simply 'A Hymne for the Epiphanie. Sung as by the three Kings.' Except the usual slight changes of orthography, the following are all the variations between the two texts necessary to record: and I give with them certain corrective and explanatory notes:
line 25, 'indifferent' is = impartial, not as now 'unconcerned.'
Line 52, 1648 edition misprints 'his't' for 'kis't.' In the 51st line the 'bright idol' is the sun.
Line 83, ib. reads 'thy' for 'this.'
" 95, 'a guilded horn.' Cf. Juvenal, Satire x.
" 99, ib. is given to 3d King. Throughout we have corrected a number of slips of the Paris printer in his figures.
Line 108, ib. spells 'to' for 'too.'
" 117, '_deliquium_' = swoon, faint. In chemistry = melting.
" 122, 1648 edition reads 'his' for 'this;' and I have adopted it.
Line 143, ib. reads 'deere:' a misprint.
" 155, ib. reads 'domesticks.'
" 180, ib. reads 'the' for 'their.'
" 186, ib. drops 'it.'
" 195, ib. reads 'what' for 'that,' and in next line 'his' for 'this,' of 1652: both adopted.
Line 212, 'legible' is = legibly.
" 224 and onward, in 1648 is printed 'least,' in our text (1652) 'lest.' Except in line 224 it is plainly = last, and so I read it in 231st and 237th.
See our Essay for Miltonic parallels with lines in this remarkable composition. Line 46, 'these mortal clouds,' _i.e._ of infant flesh. Cf. Sosp. d' Herode, stanza xxiii.
'That He whom the sun serves should faintly peep Through _clouds of infant flesh_.'
Line 114, 'And urge their sun into Thy cloud,' _i.e._ into becoming Thy cloud, forcing him to become 'a long deliquium to the light of thee.' Line 189, our text (1652) misprints 'in self.' Line 190, 'By the oblique ambush,' &c. The Kings continuing in the spirit of prophecy, and with words not to be understood till their fulfilment, pass on from the dimming of the sun at the Crucifixion to a second dimming, but this time through the splendour of a brighter light, at the conversion of him who was taken to preach to the Gentiles in the court of the Areopagites. The speaker, or rather CRASHAW, takes the view which at first sight may seem to be implied in the gospel narrative, that the light brighter than midday shone round about SAUL and his companions but not on them, they being couched in the conscious shade of the daylight. Throughout, there is a double allusion to this second dimming of the sun as manifesting Christ to St. Paul and the Gentiles, and to the dimming of the eyes, and the walking in darkness for a time of him who as a light on Earth was to manifest the True Light to the world. Throughout, too, there is a kind of parallelism indicated between the two lesser lights. Both rebellions were to be dimmed and brought into subjection, and then to shine forth 'right-eyed' in renewed and purified splendour as evidences of the Sun of Righteousness. Hence at the close, the chorus calls them 'ye twin-suns,'--and the words, 'Till thus triumphantly tamed' refer equally to both. The punctuation to make this clear should be '... sun, ... undone; ...' 'To negotiate you' (both word and metaphor being rather unhappily chosen) means, to pass you current as the true-stamped image of the Deity. 'O price of the rich Spirit' (line 197) may be made to refer to 'thee [O Christ], price of the rich spirit' of Paul, but 'may be' is almost too strong to apply to such an interpretation. It is far more consonant to the structure and tenor of the whole passage, to read it as an epithet applied to St. Paul: 'O prize of the rich Spirit of grace.' I have also without hesitation changed 'of this strong soul' into 'of _his_ strong soul.' 'Oblique ambush' may refer to the oblique rays of the sun now rays of darkness, but the primary reference is to the indirect manner and 'vigorous guess,' by which St. Paul, mentally glancing from one to the other light, learned through the dimming of the sun to believe in the Deity of Him who spake from out the dimming brightness. The same thought, though with a strained and less successful effort of expression, appears in the song of the third King, 'with that fierce chase,' &c.
Line 251. 'Somthing a brighter shadow (Sweet) of Thee.' Apparently a remembrance of a passage which THOMAS HEYWOOD, in his 'Hierarchie of the Angels,' gives from a Latin translation of PLATO, 'Lumen est umbra Dei et Deus est Lumen Luminis.' On which see our Essay. Perhaps the same gave rise to the thought that the sun eclipsed God, or shut Him out as a cloud or shade, or made night, _e.g._
'And urge their sun ... ... eclipse he made:' (lines 115-120). 'Not so much their sun as shade ... by this night of day:' (lines 138-151). G.
TO THE QVEEN'S MAIESTY.[39]
MADAME, 1 'Mongst those long rowes of crownes that guild your race, These royall sages sue for decent place: The day-break of the Nations; their first ray, When the dark World dawn'd into Christian Day, 5 And smil'd i' th' Babe's bright face; the purpling bud And rosy dawn of the right royall blood; Fair first-fruits of the Lamb! sure kings in this, They took a kingdom while they gaue a kisse. But the World's homage, scarse in these well blown, 10 We read in you (rare queen) ripe and full-grown. For from this day's rich seed of diadems Does rise a radiant croppe of royalle stemms, A golden haruest of crown'd heads, that meet And crowd for kisses from the Lamb's white feet: 15 In this illustrious throng, your lofty floud Swells high, fair confluence of all high-born bloud: With your bright head, whole groues of scepters bend Their wealthy tops, and for these feet contend. So swore the Lamb's dread Sire: and so we see't, 20 Crownes, and the heads they kisse, must court these feet. Fix here, fair majesty! May your heart ne're misse To reap new crownes and kingdoms from that kisse; Nor may we misse the ioy to meet in you The aged honors of this day still new. 25 May the great time, in you, still greater be, While all the year is your epiphany; While your each day's deuotion duly brings Three kingdomes to supply this day's three kings.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
In 1648 the title is 'To the Queene's Majestie upon his dedicating to her the foregoing Hymne, viz. "A Hymne for the Epiphanie,"' which there precedes, but in 1652 follows, the dedicatory lines to the Queen. 1648 furnishes these variations: line 7 misprints 'down' for 'dawn:' line 11 reads 'deare' for 'rare:' line 14 'royall' for 'golden:' line 18 corrects our text's misprint of 'whose' for 'whole,' which I have accepted: line 20 reads 'great' for 'dread.'
In line 3 we read
'Those royall sages sue for decent place.'
We know that the King on Twelfth-day presented gold, frankincense and myrrh, and so perhaps did the Queen. But these gifts were not presented to the magi-kings, and CRASHAW seems to sue on behalf of 'these royall sages.' The explanation doubtless is that this was a verse-letter to the Queen, enclosing as a gift his Epiphany Hymn 'sung as by the three Kings.'
In line 5 'the purpling bud,' &c. requires study. Led by the (erroneous) punctuation (face,) I supposed this clause to refer to the 'Babe.' But would our Poet have said that the 'dawn of the world smiled on the Babe's face,' and in the same breath have called the face a 'rosy dawn'? Looking to this, and his rather profuse employment of 'bud,' I now believe the clause to be another description of the kings, and punctuate (face;). The rhythm of the passage is certainly improved thereby and made more like that of CRASHAW, and the words 'right royall blood,' which may be thought to become difficult, can be thus explained. The races of the heathen kings were not 'royal,' their authority being usurped and falsely derived from false gods, and the kingly blood first became truly royal when the kings recognised the supreme sovereignty of the King of kings and the derivation of their authority from Him, and when they were in turn recognised by Him. Hence the use of the epithet 'purpling,' the Christian or Christ-accepting kings being the first who were truly 'born in the purple,' or '_right_ royall blood.'
In lines 15-18, as punctuated in preceding editions, the Poet is made to arrange his words after a fashion hardly to be called English, and to jumble his metaphors like a poetaster or 4th of July orator in America. But both sense and poetry are restored by taking the (!) after 'blood' as at least equal to (:), and by replacing 'whose' by 'whole,' as in 1648. This seems to us restoration, not change. Even thus read, however, the passage is somewhat cloudy; but the construction is--the groves of sceptres of your high-born ancestors bend with you their wealthy tops, when you bow down your head. Our Poet is fond of inversions, and they are sometimes more obscure than they ought to be. Line 20 = Psalm i., and cf. Philip. ii. 11. G.
VPON EASTER DAY.[40]
Rise heire of fresh Eternity 1 From thy virgin tombe! Rise mighty Man of wonders, and Thy World with Thee! Thy tombe the uniuersall East, Nature's new wombe, 5 Thy tombe, fair Immortalitie's perfumed nest.
Of all the glories make Noone gay, This is the Morne; This Rock buds forth the fountaine of the streames of Day; In Joye's white annalls live this howre 10 When Life was borne; No cloud scoule on His radiant lids, no tempest lower.
Life, by this Light's nativity All creatures have; Death onely by this Daye's just doome is forc't to dye, 15 Nor is Death forc't; for may he ly Thron'd in Thy grave, Death will on this condition be content to dye.
SOSPETTO D' HERODE.
LIBRO PRIMO.[41]
ARGOMENTO.
_Casting the times with their strong signes, Death's master his owne death divines: Strugling for helpe, his best hope is Herod's suspition may heale his. Therefore he sends a fiend to wake The sleeping tyrant's fond mistake; _foolish_ Who feares (in vaine) that He Whose birth Meanes Heav'n, should meddle with his Earth._