To be a Churchman too, and wear a Mitre :
The old debauched ruffian would turn writer.
I saw him in his study, where he sate
Busy in controversies sprung of late.
A gown and pen became him wondrous well :
His grave aspect had more of heaven than hell:
Only there was a handsome picture by,
To which he lent a corner of his eye.
As Sin in Greece a Prophet was before,
And in old Rome a mighty Emperor;
So now being Priest he plainly did profess
To make a jest of Christ's three offices:
The rather since his scatter'd jugglings were
United now in one both time and sphere.
From Egypt he took petty deities,
From Greece oracular infallibilities,
And from old Rome the liberty of pleasure,
By free dispensings of the Church's treasure.
Then in memorial of his ancient throne,
He did surname his palace, Babylon.
Yet that he might the better gain all nations,
And make that name good by their transmigrations;
From all these places, but at divers times,
He took fine vizards to conceal his crimes:
From Egypt Anchorism and retiredness,
Learning from Greece, from old Rome stateliness;
And blending these, he carried all men's eyes,
While Truth sat by, counting his victories:
Whereby he grew apace and scorn'd to use
Such force as once did captivate the Jews;
But did bewitch, and finally work each nation
Into a voluntary transmigration.
All post to Rome: Princes submit their necks
Either to his public foot or private tricks.
It did not fit his gravity to stir,
Nor his long journey, nor his gout and fur :
Therefore he sent out able ministers,
Statesmen within, without doors cloisterers;
Who without spear, or sword, or other drum,
Than what was in their tongue, did overcome;
And having conquer'd, did so strangely rule,
That the whole world did seem but the Pope's mule.
As new and old Rome did one Empire twist;
So both together are one Antichrist;
Yet with two faces, as their Janus was,
Being in this their old crack'd looking-glass.
How dear to me, O God, thy counsels are!
Who with thee compare?
Thus Sin triumphs in Western Babylon;
Yet not as Sin, but as Religion.
Of his two thrones he made the latter best,
And to defray his journey from the East.
Old and new Babylon are to hell and night,
As is the moon and sun to heaven and light.
When the one did set, the other did take place,
Confronting equally the law and grace.
They are hell's land marks, Satan's double crest:
They are Sin's nipples, feeding the east and west.
But as in vice the copy still exceeds
The pattern, but not so in virtuous deeds;
So though Sin made his latter seat the better,
The latter Church is to the first a debtor.
The second Temple could not reach the first:
And the late reformation never durst
Compare with ancient times and purer years;
But in the Jews and us deserveth tears.
Nay, it shall every year decrease and fade;
Till such a darkness do the world invade
At Christ's last coming, as his first did find:
Yet must there such proportions be assign'd
To these diminishings, as is between
The spacious world and Jewry to be seen.
Religion stands on tiptoe in our land,
Ready to pass to the American strand.
When height of malice, and prodigious lusts,
Impudent sinning, witchcrafts, and distrusts,
(The marks of future bane,) shall fill our cup
Unto the brim, and make our measure up;
When Seine shall swallow Tiber, and the Thames
By letting in them both, pollutes her streams:
When Italy of us shall have her will,
And all her calendar of sins fulfill;
Whereby one may foretell, what sins next year
Shall both in France and England domineer:
Then shall Religion to America flee :
They have their times of Gospel, e'en as we.
My God, thou dost prepare for them a way,
By carrying first their gold from them away:
For gold and grace did never yet agree:
Religion always sides with poverty.
We think we rob them, but we think amiss :
We are more poor, and they more rich by this.
Thou wilt revenge their quarrel, making grace
To pay our debts, and leave our ancient place
To go to them, while that, which now their nation
But lends to us, shall be our desolation.
Yet as the Church shall thither westward fly,
So Sin shall trace and dog her instantly:
They have their period also and set times
Both for their virtuous actions and their crimes.
And where of old the Empire and the Arts
Usher'd the Gospel ever in men's hearts,
Spain hath done one; when Arts perform the other,
TheChurch shall come,and Sin the Church shall smo-
That when they have accomplished the round, [ther:
And met in the east their first and ancient sound, Judgment may meet them both, and search them Thus do both lights, as well in Church as Sun, [round. Light one another, and together run.
Thus also Sin and Darkness follow still
The Church and Sun with all their power and skill.
But as the sun still goes both west and east:
So also did the Church by going west
Still eastward go; because it drew more near
To time and place, where judgment shall appear.
How dear to me, O God, thy counsels are!
Who may with thee compare?
KING of glory, King of peace,
With the one make war to cease;
With the other bless thy sheep,
Thee to love, in thee to sleep.
Let not Sin devour thy fold,
Bragging that thy blood is cold;
That thy death is also dead,
While his conquests daily spread;
That thy flesh hath lost his food,
And thy Cross is common wood.
Choke him, let him say no more,
But reserve his breath in store,
Till thy conquest and his fall
Make his sighs to use it all;
And then bargain with the wind
To discharge what is behind.
BLESSED BE God alone,
THRICE BLESSED THREE IN ONE.
III. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
SENT BY GEORGE HERBERT TO HIS MOTHER AS A NEW YEAR'S GIFT FROM CAMBRIDGE.
My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Where with whole shoals of Martyrs once did burn, Besides their other flames? Doth poetry
Wear Venus' livery? only serve her turn? Why are not Sonnets made of thee? and layes Upon thine altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise
As well as any she? Cannot thy Dove Outstrip their Cupid easily in flight?
Or, since thy ways are deep, and still the same, Will not a verse run smooth that bears thy name! Why doth that fire, which by thy power and might Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose Than that, which one day, worms may chance reSure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry Oceans of ink; for, as the Deluge did Cover the Earth, so doth thy Majesty:
Each cloud distils thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use.
Roses and lilies speak thee; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse.
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