Witness the thunder that Mount Sinai heard,
When all the hill with fiery clouds did flame,
And wandering Israel, with the sight afear'd,
Blinded with seeing, durst not touch the same,
But like a wood of shaking leaves became.
On this dread Justice, she, the living law,
Bowing herself with a majestic awe,
All Heav'n, to hear her speech, did into silence draw.
Were not the Heavens pure, in whose courts I sue,
The judge, to whom I sue, just to requite him,
The cause, for sin; the punishment, most due;
Justice herself, the plaintiff to endite him;
The angels, holy, before whom I cite him;
He against whom, wicked, unjust, impure;
Then might, he sinful live, and die secure,
Or trial might escape, or trial might endure.
What need I urge, what they must needs confess,
Sentence on them, condemned by their own lust?
I crave no more, and thou can'st give no less,
Than death to dead men, justice to unjust;
Shame to most shameful and most shameless dust:
But if thy mercy needs will spare her friends,
Let mercy there begin, where justice ends.
Tis cruel mercy that the wrong from right defends.
From Christ's Victory and Triumph.
84. William Drummond, 1585-1649. (Handbook, pars. 132, 303.)
One of the earliest Scottish poets who wrote pure English, and author of some of our best sonnets. Even Jonson is said to have envied the Forth-feasting-a poem on the visit of James I. to Scotland in 1617.
Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours
Of winters past, or coming, void of care,
Well pleased with delights which present are
Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flow'rs:
To rocks, to springs, to rills, from leafy bow'ers
Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare,
And what dear gifts on thee he did not spare,
A stain to human sense in sin that low'rs.
What soul can be so sick, which by thy songs
(Attir'd in sweetness) sweetly is not driven Quite to forget earth's turmoils, spites, and wrongs, And lift a reverend eye and thought to Heaven? Sweet, artless songster, thou my mind dost raise To airs of spheres, yes, and to angels' lays.
Sleep, Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest,
Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings,
Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings,
Sole comforter of minds with grief oppress'd;
Lo, by thy charming rod, all breathing things
Lie slumbering, with forgetfulness possess'd,
And yet o'er me to spread thy drowsy wings
Thou spar'st, alas! who cannot be thy guest.
Since I am thine, O come, but with that face
To inward light which thou art wont to show,
With feigned solace ease a true-felt woe;
Or if, deaf god, thou do deny that grace,
Come as thou wilt, and what thou wilt bequeath;
I long to kiss the image of my death.
Eulogy of King James.
Oh, virtue's pattern, glory of our times,
Sent of past days to expiate the crimes.
Great King, but better far than thou art great,
Whom state not honours but who honours state;
By wonder born, by wonder first installed,
By wonder after to new kingdoms called;
Young, kept by wonder from home-bred alarms,
Old, saved by wonder from pale traitor's harms,
To be for this thy reign, which wonders brings,
A king of wonder, wonder unto kings.
If Pict, Dane, Norman, thy smooth yoke had seen,
Pict, Dane, and Norman, had thy subjects been ;
If Brutus knew the bliss thy rule doth give,
His youth was disturbed by factions.
The Gowrie conspiracy and gunpowder plot.
E'en Brutus joy would under thee to live.
For thou thy people dost so dearly love,
That they a father more than prince thee prove.
From The Forth-feasting. The Forth speaks.
[§ 2. FROM THE DEATH OF JAMES I. TO THE RESTORATION.] 85. George Wither, 1588-1667. (Handbook, par. 150.)
All earthly comforts vanish thus;
So little hold of them have we,
That we from them, or they from us
May in a moment ravished be.
Yet we are neither just nor wise,
If present mercies we despise;
Or mind not how there may be made
A thankful use of what we had.
The Author's Hymn.
Therefore as thy blessed psalmist,
When he saw his wars had end,
(And his days were at their calmest)
Psalms and hymns of praises penn'd;
So my rest by thee enjoy'd,
To thy praise I have employed. . .
And I know that whosoever
Hath thy glory in esteem,
Will accept this good endeavour,
Whatsoe'er thy workman seem;
Let (oh therefore) be fulfilled
That which thou oh Lord hast willed.
And when I with Israel's singer,
To these songs of faith shall learn,
Thy ten-stringéd law to finger,
And that music to discern;
Lift me to that angel quire,
Whereunto thy saints aspire.
Out of twenty-two stanzas. Hymns and Songs of the Church, 1856, p. 303.
Poor and Content.
Lordly gallants tell me this;
Though my safe content you weigh not
In your greatness, what one bliss
Have you gain'd that I enjoy not?
You have honours, you have wealth,
I have peace and I have health;
All the day I merry make,
And at night no care I take.
Bound to none my fortunes be;
This or that man's fall I fear not;
Him I love that loveth me,
For the rest a pin I care not.
You are sad when others chase,
And grow merry as they laugh;
I that hate it and am free,
Laugh and weep as pleaseth me.
Shall I wasting in despair?
Shall a woman's virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her merit's value known,
Make me quite forget mine own!
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may gain her name of best;
If she seem not good to me,
What care I how good she be? ...
Great or good, or kind or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn and let her go;
For if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be?
From the Mistresse of Philarete. ELLIS, iii., 65.
86. Thomas Hobbes, 1588-1679. (Handbook, pars. 336, 460.)
A master of vigorous English. Ethically he denies that right and wrong are natural distinctions, and traces all affections to love of power or to fear
Precision in the use of Language.
Seeing that truth consisteth in the right ordering of names in our affirmations, a man that seeketh precise truth had need to remember what every name he useth stands for, and to place it accordingly, or else he will find himselfe entangled in words as a bird in lime twiggs-the more he struggles the more belimed. And therefore in geometry, which is the only science that it hath
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