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Here did Presumption her pavilion spread

Over the temple, the bright stars among; (Ah! that her foot should trample on the head

Of that most reverend place !) and a lewd throng

Of wanton boys sung her a pleasant song,
Of love, long life, of mercy, and of grace ;
And every one her dearly did embrace,
And she herself enamored were of her own face.

A painted face belied with vermeil store,

Which light Euclpis every day did trim, That in one hand a gilded anchor wore,

Not fixed on the rock, but on the brim

Of the wide air she let it loosely swim :
Her other hand a sprinkle carried,
And ever, when her lady wavered,
Court holy-water all upon her sprinkled.

Poor fool! she thought herself in wondrous price

With God, as if in Paradise she were ; But were she not in a fool's Paradise,

She might have seen more reason to despair :

But him she like some ghastly fiend did fear ; And therefore as that wretch hewed out his cell Under the bowels in the heart of hell, So she above the moon amid the stars would dwell.

Her tent with sunny clouds was ceiled aloft,

And so exceeding shone with a false light, That heaven itself to her it seemed oft,

Heaven without clouds to her deluded sight :

But clouds withouten heaven it was aright;
And as her house was built, so did her brain
Build castles in the air, with idle pain,
But heart she never had in all her body vain.

Like as a ship in which no balance lies,

Without a pilot on the sleeping waves, Fairly along with wind and water flies,

And painted masts with silken sails embraves,

That Neptune's self the bragging vessel saves,
To laugh awhile at her so proud array;
Her waving streamers loosely she lets play,
And flagging colors shine as bright as smiling day.

But all so soon as heaven his brows doth bend,

She veils her banners, and pulls in her beams; The empty bark the raging billows send

Up to the Olympic waves, and Argus seems

Again to ride upon our lower streams : Right so Presumption did herself behave, Tossed about with every stormy wave, And in white lawn she went most like an angel brave.


All suddenly the hill his snow devours,

In lieu whereof a goodly garden grew; As if the snow had melted into flowers,

Which their sweet breath in subtle vapors threw,

That all about perfumed spirits flew; For whatsoe'er might aggravate the sense, In all the world, or please the appetence, Here it was poured out in lavish affluence.

Not lovely Ida might with this compare,

Though many streams his banks besilvered,
Though Xanthus with his golden sands he bore;

Nor Hybla, though his thyme depastured,
As fast again with honey blossomed ;

* Used in the sense of “heighten," or "give pleasure to."

Nor Rhodope, nor Tempe's flowery plain;
Adonis' garden was to this but vain,
Though Plato on his beds a flood of praise doth rain.

The garden like a lady fair was cut,

That lay as if she slumbered in delight, And to the open skies her eyes did shut ;

The azure fields of heaven were sembled right

In a large round, set with the flowers of light;
The flowers-de-luce, and the round sparks of dew
That hung upon their azure leaves, did shew
Like twinkling stars that sparkle in the evening blue.




THEREFORE above the rest Ambition sate;

His court with glittering pearl was all in walled ; And round about the wall, in chairs of state,

And most majestic splendor, were installed

A hundred kings, whose temples were impalled
In golden diadems, set here and there
With diamonds, and gemmed everywhere;
And of their golden verges none desceptred were.

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High over all Vain Glory's blazing throne,

In her bright turret, all of crystał wrought, Like Phæbus' lamp, in midst of heaven shone;

Whose starry top, with pride infernal fraught,

Self-arching columns to uphold were taught;
In which her image still reflected was
By the smooth crystal, that, most like her glass,
In beauty and in frailty did all others pass.

A silver wand the sorceress did

And for a crown of gold, her hair she wore,
Only a garland of rosebuds did play

About her locks, and in her hand she bore
A hollow globe of glass, that long before

The fall of emptiness had bladdered,
And all the world therein depictured,
Whose colors, like the rainbow, ever vanished.

Such watery orbicles young boys do blow

Out from their soapy shells, and much admire The swimming world, which tenderly they row,

With easy breath, till it be waved higher ;

But if they chance but roughly once aspire, The painted bubble instantly doth fall.

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For him a waking bloodhound, yelling loud,

That in his bosom long had sleeping laid, A guilty Conscience, barking after blood,

Pursued eagerly, nor ever stayed,

Till the betrayer's self it had betrayed.
Oft changed the place, in hope away to wind;
But change of place could never change his mind:
Himself he flies to lose, and follows for to find.

With that a fiaming brand a Fury catched,

And shook, and tossed it round in his wild thought, So from his heart all joy, all comfort snatched,

With every star of hope ; and as he sought

(With present fear, and future grief distraught) To fly from his own heart, and aid implore Of him, the more he gives, that hath the more, Whose storehouse is the heavens, too little for bis store:

And when wild Pentheus, grown mad with fear,

Whole troops of hellish hags about him spies;
Two bloody suns stalking the dusky sphere,

And twofold Thebes runs rolling in his eyes ;
Or through the scene staring Orestes flies,

With eyes flung back upon his mother's ghost,
That with infernal serpents all embossed,
And torches quenched in blood, doth her stern son accost.

Such horrid gorgons, and misformed forms

Of damned fiends, flew dancing in his heart, That, now, unable to endure their storms,

“ Fly, fly, (he cries) thyself, whate'er thou art,

Hell, hell, already burns in every part." So down into his Torturer's arms he fell

Yet oft he snatched, and started as he hung :

So when the senses half enslumbered lie, The headlong body, ready to be flung

By the deluding fancy from some high

And craggy rock, recovers greedily,
And clasps the yielding pillow, half asleep,
And, as from heaven it tumbled to the deep,
Feels a cold sweat through every member creep.


When I remember Christ our burden bears,

I look for glory, but find misery; I look for joy, but find a sea of tears ;

I look that we should live, and find Him die ;

I look for angels' songs, and hear Him cry: Thus what I look, I cannot find so well; Or, rather, what I find I cannot tell; These banks so narrow are, these streams so highly swell.

Christ suffers, and in this his tears begin ;

Suffers for us—and our joys spring in this ; Suffers to death-here is his manhood seen; Suffers to rise-and here his Godhead is ;

that could not by himself have ris',

For man,

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