« ПредишнаНапред »
The soul a substance and a spirit is,
Which God Himself doth in the body make,
The nature of a man and name doth take.
And though this spirit be to the body knit
As an apt means her powers to exercise,
Yet she survives although the body dies.
THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL SHOWN FROM THE UNSAT
ISFYING NATURE OF EARTHLY ENJOYMENTS.
At first her mother earth she holdeth dear,
And doth embrace the world, and worldly things; She flies close by the ground, and hovers here,
And mounts not up with her celestial wings :
Yet under heaven she cannot light on aught
That with her heavenly nature doth agree;
She cannot in this world contented be.
For who did ever yet, in honor, wealth,
Or pleasure of the sense, contentment find ?
Or having wisdom was not vexed in mind ?
Then as a bee, which among weeds doth fall,
Which seem sweet flowers with lustre fresh and gay, She lights on that and this, and tasteth all;
But pleased with none, doth rise and soar away:
So when the soul finds here no true content,
And like Noah's dove can no sure footing take,
And flies to Him that first her wings did make.
THE WORTH OF THE SOUL.
Ou! ignorant, poor man! what dost thou bear
up within the casket of thy breast ? What jewels, and what riches, hast thou there?
What heavenly treasure in so weak a chest ?
Look in thy soul, and thou shalt beauties find,
Like those which drowned Narcissus in the flood; Honor and pleasure both are in thy mind,
And all that in the world is counted good.
Think of her worth, and think that God did mean
This worthy mind should worthy things embrace ; Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts unclean,
Nor her dishonor with thy passion base.
Kill not her quickening power with surfeitings;
Mar not her sense with sensuality ; Cast not her serious wit on idle things;
Make not her free-will slave to vanity.
And when thou thinkest of her eternity,
Think not that death against our nature is ; Think it a birth, and when thou goest to die,
Sing a like song as if thou wentest to bliss.
And thou, my soul, which turnest with curious eye,
To view the beams of thine own form divine ; Know that thou canst know nothing perfectly,
While thou art clouded with this flesh of mine.
Take heed of overweening, and compare
Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's train; Study the best and highest things that are,
But of thyself an humble thought retain.
Cast down thyself, and only strive to raise
The glory of thy Maker's sacred name,
Which gives the power to be, and use the same.
Was the son of William Davison, the unfortunate secretary of Queen Elizabeth. After travelling on the continent, he turned his attention to poetry, and in 1602 he published the first edition of the “Political Rhapsody.” He was one of the authors of a version of “ Selected Poems,” and Mr. Wilmot gives the following specimens by him.
PARAPHRASE OF PSALM XXIII.
God, who the universe doth hold
In his fold,
Me his sheep,
He feeds me in fields which bin'
Fresh and green,
soul from heaven's way
· Reduced, led back.
Yea, though I stray through Death's vale,
Where his pale
Should I bide,
Thou my board with messes large
Dost surcharge ;
upon mine head thou showerest.
Neither dures thy bounteous grace
For a space,
But it knows nor bound, nor measure;
Shall I spend
PARAPHRASE OF PSALM LXXXVI.
Save my soul which Thou didst cherish
After Thy sweet-wonted fashion,
Send, O send, relieving gladness,
Let thine ears which long have tarried Barred
be now unbarred, That
cries may entrance gain, And being entered, grace obtain.
For Thou, darter of dread thunders,
Heavenly Tutor, of thy kindness,
In knots to be loosed never,
heart to Thee forever, That I to Thy name may bear, Fearful love and loving fear.
Lord, my God, thou shalt be praised,
Mighty men with malice endless,
But Thy might their malice passes,