Part 13

Among many others, the author of this poem merits a lasting honour; for, as he was a most eloquent lawyer, so, in the composition of this piece, we admire him for a good poet and exact philosopher. 'Tis not rhyming that makes a poet, but the true and impartial representing of virtue and vice, so as to instruct mankind in matters of greatest importance. And this observation has been made of our countrymen, That Sir John Suckling wrote in the most courtly and gentleman-like style; Waller in the most sweet and flowing numbers; Denham with the most accurate judgment and correctness; Cowley with pleasing softness and plenty of imagination: none ever uttered more divine thought than Mr. Herbert; none more philosophical than Sir John Davies. His thoughts are moulded into easy and significant words; his rhymes never mislead the sense, but are led and governed by it: so that in reading such useful performances, the wit of mankind may be refined from its dross, their memories furnished with the best notions, their judgments strengthened, and their conceptions enlarged: by which means the mind will be raised to the most perfect ideas it is capable of in this degenerate state.

But as others have laboured to carry out our thoughts, and to entertain them with all manner of delights abroad; 'tis the peculiar character of this author, that he has taught us (with Antoninus) to meditate upon ourselves; that he has disclosed to us greater secrets at home; self-reflection being the only way to valuable and true knowledge, which consists in that rare science of a man's self, which the moral philosopher loses in a crowd of definitions, divisions and distinctions: the historian cannot find it among all his musty records, being far better acquainted with the transactions of a thousand years past, than with the present age, or with himself: the writer of fables and romances wanders from it, in following the delusions of a wild fancy, chimeras and fictions that do not only exceed the works, but also the possibility of Nature. Whereas the resemblance of truth is the utmost limits of poetical liberty, which our author has very religiously observed; for he has not only placed and connected together the most amiable images of all those powers that are in our souls, but he has furnished and squared his matter like a true philosopher; that is, he has made both body and soul, colour and shadow of his poem, out of the storehouse of his own mind, which gives the whole work a real and natural beauty; when that which is borrowed out of books, (the boxes of counterfeit complexion) shews well or ill, as it has more or less likeness to the natural. But our author is beholding to none but himself; and by knowing himself thoroughly, he has arrived to know much; which appears in his admirable variety of well-chosen metaphors and similitudes that cannot be found within the compass of a narrow knowledge. For this reason the poem, on account of its intrinsic worth, would be as lasting as the Iliad or the Æneid, if the language 'tis wrote in were as immutable as that of the Greeks and Romans.

Now it would be of great benefit to the beaus of our age to carry this glass in their pocket, whereby they might learn to think rather than dress well. It would be of use also to the wits and virtuosoes to carry this antidote against the poison they have sucked in from Lucretius or Hobbes. This would acquaint them with some principles of religion; for in old times the poets were the divines, and exercised a kind of spiritual authority amongst the people. Verse in those days was the sacred style, the style of Oracles and Lawes. The vows and thanks of the people were recommended to their gods in songs and hymns. Why may they not retain this priviledge? for if prose should contend with verse, it would be upon unequal terms, and (as it were) on foot against the wings of Pegasus. With what delight are we touched in hearing the stories of Hercules, Achilles, Cyrus, and Æneas? Because in their characters we have wisdom, honour, fortitude and justice, set before our eyes. It was Plato's opinion, that if a man could see virtue, he would be strangely enamoured on her person. Which is the reason why Horace and Virgil have continued so long in reputation, because they have drawn her in all the charms of poetry. No man is so senseless of rational impressions, as not to be wonderfully affected with the pastorals of the ancients, when under the stories of wolves and sheep, they describe the misery of people under hard masters, and their happiness under good. So the bitter and wholesome Iambick was wont to make villainy blush; the Satire invited men to laugh at folly; the Comedian chastised the common errors of life; and the Tragedian made kings afraid to be tyrants, and tyrants to be their own tormentors.

Wherefore, as Sir Philip Sidney said of Chaucer, that he knew not which he should most wonder at, either that he in his dark time should see so distinctly, or that we in this clear age should go so stumblingly after him; so may we marvel at and bewail the low condition of poetry now, when in our Plays scarce any one rule of decorum is observed, but in the space of two hours and a half we pass through all the fits of Bedlam; in one scene we are all in mirth, in the next we are all in sadness; whilst even the most laboured parts are starved for want of thought; a confused heap of words, and empty sound of rhyme.

This very consideration should advance the esteem of the following poem, wherein are represented the various movements of the mind; at which we are as much transported as with the most excellent scenes of passion in Shakespear, or Fletcher: for in this, as in a mirror (that will not flatter) we see how the soul arbitrates in the understanding upon the various reports of sense, and all the changes of imagination: how compliant the will is to her dictates, and obeys her as a queen does her king: at the same time acknowledging a subjection, and yet retaining a majesty: how the passions move at her command, like a well-disciplined army; from which regular composure of the faculties, all operating in their proper time and place, there arises a complacency upon the whole soul, that infinitely transcends all other pleasures.

What deep philosophy is this! to discover the process of God's art in fashioning the soul of man after His own image; by remarking how one part moves another, and how those motions are varied by several positions of each part, from the first springs and plummets, to the very hand that points out the visible and last effects. What eloquence and force of wit to convey these profound speculations in the easiest language, expressed in words so vulgarly received, that they are understood by the meanest capacities.

For the poet takes care in every line to satisfy the understandings of mankind: he follows step by step the workings of the mind, from the first strokes of sense, then of fancy, afterwards of judgment, into the principles both of natural and supernatural motives: hereby the soul is made intelligible, which comprehends all things besides; the boundless tracks of sea and land, and the vaster spaces of heaven; that vital principle of action, which has always been busied in enquiries abroad, is now made known to itself; insomuch that we may find out what we ourselves are, from whence we came, and whither we must go; we may perceive what noble guests those are, which we lodge in our bosoms, which are nearer to us than all other things, and yet nothing further from our acquaintance.

But here all the labyrinths and windings of the human frame are laid open: 'tis seen by what pullies and wheels the work is carried on, as plainly as if a window were opened in the breast: for it is the work of God alone to create a mind. The next to this is to shew how its operations are performed.

II. HYMNES OF ASTRÆA.

NOTE.

The following is the original title-page of 'Astr[oe]a':

HYMNES OF ASTR[OE]A, IN Acrosticke verse

London Printed for J. S. 1599

[4^{o} pp. 27: register A. B. C. D. of 4 leaves each.]

Throughout, the Poet spells 'Astr[oe]a': probably Asteria ([Greek: 'Asteria]) were more accurate. Our text for these 'Hymnes' is, as in Nosce Teipsum, the edition of 1622: but throughout, compared with the first, as _supra_. Title-page in 1622 edition is as follows:

HYMNES of ASTREA

_In Acrosticke Verse._

London Printed by A. M. for _Richard Hawkins_. 1622. [8vo.]

With reference to Elizabeth who is so glorified in these 'Hymnes' as 'Astræa,' cf. the 'Conference between a Gentleman-Usher and a Post' in our Memorial-Introduction. I have since found that another copy of this interesting MS. is preserved among the Harleian MSS.: No. cclxxxvi fol. 248. I would here call attention to the correspondence between the metaphor of the Senses serving the Intellect in 'Nosce Teipsum' and in the 'Conference' as flatteringly descriptive of the position held by her 'ministers' to the Queen. In Davison's 'Rhapsody' _the_ name for Elizabeth is Astræa. G.

_Hymnes to Astr[oe]a._

HYMNE I.

OF ASTR[OE]A.[168]

$E$ arly before the day doth spring, $L$ et us awake my Muse, and sing; $I$ t is no time to slumber, $S$ o many ioyes this time doth bring, $A$ s Time will faile to number.

$B$ ut whereto shall we bend our layes? $E$ uen vp to Heauen, againe to raise[169] $T$ he Mayd, which thence descended; $H$ ath brought againe the golden dayes, $A$ nd all the world amended.

$R$ udenesse it selfe she doth refine, $E$ uen like an Alchymist diuine; $G$ rosse times of yron turning $I$ nto the purest forme of gold; $N$ ot to corrupt, till heauen waxe old, $A$ nd be refined with burning.

[Footnote 168: Here spelled 'Astrea.' G.]

[Footnote 169: = to praise or exalt. G.]

HYMNE II.

TO ASTRÆA.

$E$ ternall Virgin, _Goddesse_ true, $L$ et me presume to sing to you. $I$ oue, euen great _Ioue_ hath leasure $S$ ometimes to heare the vulgar crue, $A$ nd heares them oft with pleasure.

$B$ lessèd _Astræa_, I in part $E$ nioy the blessings you impart; $T$ he Peace, the milke and hony, $H$ umanitie, and civil _Art_, $A$ richer dower then money.

$R$ ight glad am I that now I liue, $E$ uen in these dayes whereto you giue $G$ reat happinesse and glory; $I$ f after you I should be borne, $N$ o doubt I should my birth-day scorne, $A$ dmiring your sweet storie.

HYMNE III.

TO THE SPRING.

$E$ arth now is greene, and heauen is blew, $L$ iuely Spring which makes all new, $I$ olly Spring, doth enter; $S$ weete yong sun-beames doe subdue $A$ ngry, agèd Winter.

$B$ lasts are milde, and seas are calme, $E$ uery meadow flowes with balme, $T$ he Earth weares all her riches; $H$ armonious birdes sing such a psalme, $A$ s eare and heart bewitches.

$R$ eserue (sweet Spring) this Nymph of ours, $E$ ternall garlands of thy flowers, $G$ reene garlands neuer wasting; $I$ n her shall last our _State's_ faire Spring, $N$ ow and for euer flourishing, $A$ s long as Heauen is lasting.

HYMNE IV.

TO THE MONETH OF MAY.

$E$ ach day of thine, sweet moneth of May, $L$ oue makes a solemne holy-day. $I$ will performe like duty, $S$ ith thou resemblest euery way $A$ stræa, Queen of beauty,

$B$ oth you fresh beauties do pertake, $E$ ither's aspect doth Summer make, $T$ houghts of young Loue awaking; $H$ earts you both doe cause to ake, $A$ nd yet be pleas'd with akeing.

$R$ ight deare art thou, and so is shee, $E$ uen like attractiue sympathy, $G$ aines vnto both like dearenesse; $I$ weene this made Antiquitie $N$ ame thee, sweet _May of Maiestie_, $A$ s being both like in _clearnesse_.

HYMNE V.

TO THE LARKE.

$E$ arley, cheerfull, mounting Larke, $L$ ight's gentle vsher, Morning's clark, $I$ n merry notes delighting; $S$ tint awhile thy song, and harke, $A$ nd learne my new inditing.

$B$ eare vp this hymne, to heau'n it beare, $E$ uen vp to heau'n, and sing it there, $T$ o heau'n each morning beare it; $H$ aue it set to some sweet sphere, $A$ nd let the Angels heare it.

$R$ enownd Astræa, that great name, $E$ xceeding great in worth and fame, $G$ reat worth hath so renownd it; $I$ t is Astræa's name I praise, $N$ ow then, sweet Larke, do thou it raise, $A$ nd in high Heauen resound it.

HYMNE VI.

TO THE NIGHTINGALE.

$E$ uery night from euen till morne, $L$ oue's Quirister amidde the thorne $I$ s now so sweet a singer; $S$ o sweet, as for her song I scorne $A$ pollo's voice, and finger.

$B$ ut Nightingale, sith you delight $E$ uer to watch the starry night; $T$ ell all the starres of heauen, $H$ eauen neuer had a starre so bright, $A$ s now to Earth is giuen.

$R$ oyall Astræa makes our day $E$ ternall with her beames, nor may $G$ rosse darknesse ouercome her; $I$ now perceiue why some doe write, $N$ o countrey hath so short a night, $A$ s England hath in Summer.

HYMNE VII.

TO THE ROSE.

$E$ ye of the Garden, Queene of flowres, $L$ ove's cup wherein he nectar powres, $I$ ngendered first of nectar; $S$ weet nurse-child of the Spring's young howres, $A$ nd Beautie's faire character.

$B$ est iewell that the Earth doth weare, $E$ uen when the braue young sunne draws neare, $T$ o her hot Loue pretending;[170] $H$ imselfe likewise like forme doth beare, $A$ t rising and descending.

$R$ ose of the Queene of Loue belou'd; $E$ ngland's great Kings diuinely mou'd, $G$ ave Roses in their banner; $I$ t shewed that Beautie's Rose indeed, $N$ ow in this age should them succeed, $A$ nd raigne in more sweet manner.

[Footnote 170: = reaching forward. G.]

HYMNE VIII.

TO ALL THE PRINCES OF EUROPE.

$E$ urope, the earth's sweet Paradise, $L$ et all thy kings that would be wise, $I$ n _politique deuotion_; $S$ ayle hither to obserue her eyes, $A$ nd marke her heaunly motion.

$B$ raue Princes of this ciuill age, $E$ nter into this pilgrimage; $T$ his saint's tongue is an oracle, $H$ er eye hath made a Prince a page, $A$ nd works each day a miracle.

$R$ aise but your lookes to her, and see $E$ uen the true beames of maiestie, $G$ reat Princes, marke her duly; $I$ f all the world you doe suruey, $N$ o forehead spreades so bright a ray, $A$ nd notes a Prince so truly.

HYMNE IX.

TO FLORA.

$E$ mpresse of flowers, tell where away $L$ ies your sweet Court this merry[171] May, $I$ n _Greenewich_ Garden allies?[172] $S$ ince there the heauenly powers do play $A$ nd haunt no other vallies.

$B$ _eautie_, _vertue_, _maiestie_, $E$ loquent Muses, three times three, $T$ he new fresh _Houres_ and Graces, $H$ aue pleasure in this place to be, $A$ boue all other places.

$R$ oses and lillies did them draw, $E$ re they diuine _Astræa_ saw; $G$ ay flowers they sought for pleasure: $I$ nstead of gathering crownes of flowers, $N$ ow gather they Astræa's dowers, $A$ nd beare to heauen that treasure,

[Footnote 171: Thomas Davies, as before, drops 'merry.']

[Footnote 172: = alleys. G.]

HYMNE X.

TO THE MONETH OF SEPTEMBER.

$E$ ach moneth hath praise in some degree; $L$ et May to others seeme to be $I$ n sense the sweetest Season; $S$ eptember thou art best to me, $A$ nd best dost please my reason.

$B$ ut neither for thy corne nor wine $E$ xtoll I those mild dayes of thine, $T$ hough corne and wine might praise thee; $H$ eauen giues thee honour more diuine, $A$ nd higher fortunes raise thee.

$R$ enown'd art thou (sweet moneth) for this, $E$ mong thy dayes her birth-day is;[173] $G$ race, plenty, peace and honour $I$ n one faire hour with her were borne; $N$ ow since they still her crowne adorne, $A$ nd still attend vpon her.

[Footnote 173: Queen Elizabeth was born on 7th September, 1533. G.]

HYMNE XI.

TO THE SUNNE.

$E$ ye of the world, fountaine of light, $L$ ife of Day, and death of Night; $I$ humbly seek thy kindnesse: $S$ weet, dazle not my feeble sight, $A$ nd strike me not with blindnesse.

$B$ ehold me mildly from that face, $E$ uen where thou now dost run thy race, $T$ he spheare where now thou turnest; $H$ auing like _Phaeton_ chang'd thy place, $A$ nd yet hearts onely burnest.

$R$ ed in her right cheeke thou dost rise, $E$ xalted after in her eyes, $G$ reat glory there thou shewest; $I$ n th' other cheeke when thou descendest, $N$ ew rednesse vnto it thou lendest, $A$ nd so thy round thou goest.

HYMNE XII.

TO HER PICTURE.

$E$ xtreame was his audacitie, $L$ ittle his skill, that finisht thee; $I$ am asham'd and sorry, $S$ o dull her counterfeit should bee, $A$ nd she so full of glory.

$B$ ut here are colours red and white, $E$ ach line, and each proportion right; $T$ hese lines, this red and whitenesse, $H$ aue wanting yet a life and light, $A$ maiestie, and brightnesse.

$R$ ude counterfeit, I then did erre, $E$ uen now when I would needs inferre $G$ reat boldnesse in thy maker; $I$ did mistake, he was not bold, $N$ or durst his eyes her eyes behold: $A$ nd this made him mistake her.

HYMNE XIII.

OF HER MINDE.

$E$ arth, now adiew, my rauisht thought $L$ ifted to Heau'n sets thee at nought; $I$ nfinite is my longing, $S$ ecrets of angels to be taught, $A$ nd things to Heau'n belonging.

$B$ rought downe from heau'n of angels kind, $E$ uen now doe I admire her _mind_; $T$ his is my contemplation, $H$ er cleare sweet spirit, which is refin'd $A$ boue humane _creation_.

$R$ ich sun-beame of th' Æternall light, $E$ xcellent _Soule_, how shall I wright?[174] $G$ ood angels make me able; $I$ cannot see but by your eye, $N$ or, but by your tongue, signifie $A$ thing so admirable.

[Footnote 174: = write. G.]

HYMNE XIIII.

OF THE SUN-BEAMES OF HER MIND.

$E$ xceeding glorious is the starre, $L$ et vs behold her beames afarre $I$ n a side line reflected; $S$ ight bears them not, when neere they are, $A$ nd in right lines directed.

$B$ ehold her in her vertues' beames, $E$ xtending sun-like to all realmes; $T$ he sunne none viewes too neerly: $H$ er well of goodnes in these streames, $A$ ppeares right well and clearely.

$R$ adiant vertues, if your light $E$ nfeeble the best iudgement's sight, $G$ reat splendor aboue measure $I$ s in the _mind_ from whence you flow; $N$ o wit may haue accesse to know, $A$ nd view so bright a treasure.

HYMNE XV.

OF HER WIT.

$E$ ye of that mind most quicke and cleere,-- $L$ ike Heauen's eye, which from his spheare $I$ nto all things prieth; $S$ ees through all things euery where, $A$ nd all their natures trieth.

$B$ right image of an angel's wit, $E$ xceeding sharpe and swift like it, $T$ hings instantly discerning; $H$ auing a nature infinit, $A$ nd yet increas'd by learning.

$R$ ebound vpon thy selfe thy light, $E$ nioy thine own sweet precious sight $G$ iue us but some reflection; $I$ t is enough for vs if we $N$ ow in her speech, now policie, $A$ dmire thine high perfection.

HYMNE XVI.

OF HER WILL.

$E$ uer well affected _will_, $L$ ouing _goodnesse_, loathing _ill_, $I$ nestimable treasure! $S$ ince such a power hath power to spill,[175] $A$ nd save vs at her pleasure.

$B$ e thou our law, sweet _will_, and say $E$ uen what thou wilt, we will obay $T$ his law, if I could reade it; $H$ erein would I spend night and day, $A$ nd study still to plead it.

$R$ oyall _free-will_, and onely _free_, $E$ ach other _will_ is slaue to thee; $G$ lad is each will to serue thee: $I$ n thee such princely power is seene, $N$ o spirit but takes thee for her Queene, $A$ nd thinkes she must obserue thee.

[Footnote 175: = spoil. G.]

HYMNE XVII.

OF HER MEMORIE.

$E$ xcellent iewels would you see, $L$ ouely ladies? come with me, $I$ will (for loue I owe you). $S$ hew you as rich a treasurie, $A$ s East or West can shew you.

$B$ ehold, if you can iudge of it, $E$ uen that great store-house of her wit: $T$ hat beautiful large Table, $H$ er Memory; wherein is writ $A$ ll knowledge admirable.

$R$ eade this faire book, and you shall learne $E$ xquisite skill; if you discerne, $G$ aine heau'n by this discerning; $I$ n such a memory diuine, $N$ ature did forme the _Muses_ nine, $A$ nd _Pallas_ Queene of Learning.

HYMNE XVIII.

OF HER PHANTASIE.

$E$ xquisite curiositie, $L$ ooke on thy selfe with iudging eye, $I$ f ought be faultie, leaue it; $S$ o delicate a phantasie $A$ s this, will straight perceiue it.

$B$ ecause her temper is so fine, $E$ ndewèd with harmonies diuine; $T$ herefore if discord strike it, $H$ er true proportions doe repine, $A$ nd sadly do[176] mislike it.

$R$ ight otherwise a pleasure sweet $E$ uer she takes in actions meet, $G$ racing with smiles such meetnesse; $I$ n her faire forehead, beames appeare, $N$ o Summer's day is halfe so cleare, $A$ dorn'd with halfe that sweetnesse.

[Footnote 176: Misprinted 'to.' G.]

HYMNE XIX.

OF THE ORGANS OF HER MINDE.

$E$ clipsed she is, and her bright rayes. $L$ ie under vailes, yet many wayes $I$ s her faire forme reuealed; $S$ he diuersly her selfe conueyes, $A$ nd cannot be concealed.

$B$ y instruments her powers appeare $E$ xceedingly well tun'd and cleare: $T$ his lute is still in measure, $H$ olds still in tune, euen like a spheare, $A$ nd yeelds the world sweet pleasure.

$R$ esolue me, Muse, how this thing is, $E$ uer a body like to this $G$ aue Heau'n to earthly creature? $I$ am but fond[177] this doubt to make $N$ o doubt the angels bodies take, $A$ bove our common nature.

[Footnote 177: = Foolish. G.]

HYMNE XX.

OF THE PASSIONS OF HER HEART.

$E$ xamine not _th' inscrutable heart_, $L$ ight _Muse_ of her, though she in part $I$ mpart it to the subiect; $S$ earch not, although from Heau'n thou art, $A$ nd this an heauenly obiect.

$B$ ut since she hath a heart, we know, $E$ uer some passions thence doe flow, $T$ hough euer rul'd with Honor; $H$ er judgment raignes, they waite below, $A$ nd fixe their eyes vpon her.

$R$ ectified so, they in their kind $E$ ncrease each vertue of her mind, $G$ ouern'd with mild tranquilitie; $I$ n all the regions vnder heau'n, $N$ o State doth beare it selfe so euen, $A$ nd with so sweet facilitie.

HYMNE XXI.

OF THE INNUMERABLE VERTUES OF HER MINDE.

$E$ re thou proceed in this sweet paines, $L$ earne _Muse_ how many drops it raines $I$ n cold and moist _December_; $S$ um up _May_ flowres, and _August_ graines, $A$ nd grapes of mild _September_.

$B$ eare the Sea's sand in memory, $E$ arth's grasses, and the starres in skie; $T$ he little moates which mounted, $H$ ang, in the beames of _Ph[oe]bus'_ eye, $A$ nd neuer can be counted.

$R$ ecount these numbers numberlesse,[178] $E$ re thou her vertue canst expresse, $G$ reat wits this count will, cumber. $I$ nstruct thy selfe in numbring Schooles; $N$ ow courtiers vse to begge for fooles, $A$ ll such as cannot number.

[Footnote 178: Cf. Paradise Regained, iii. 310. G.]

HYMNE XXII.

OF HER WISDOME.

$E$ [a]gle-eyed Wisdome, life's loadstarre, $L$ ooking neere on things afarre; $I$ oue's best beloued daughter, $S$ howes to her spirit all[179] that are, $A$ s Ioue himselfe hath taught her.