Beauteous the fleet before the gale;
Beauteous the multitudes in mail,
Rank'd arms and crested heads:
Beauteous the garden's umbrage mild—
Walk, water, meditated wild,
And all the bloomy beds.
Beauteous the moon full on the lawn;
And beauteous, when the veil's withdrawn,
The virgin to her spouse:
Beauteous the temple deck'd and fill'd,
When to the heav'n of heav'ns they build
Their heart-directed vows.
Precious the penitential tear;
And precious is the sigh sincere,
Acceptable to God:
And precious are the winning flow'rs,
In gladsome Israel's feast of bow'rs
Bound on the hallow'd sod.
More precious that diviner part
Of David, ev'n the Lord's own heart,
Great, beautiful, and new:
In all things where it was intent,
In all estreams, in each event,
Proof-answ'ring true to true.
Glorious the sun in mid career,
Glorious th' assembled fires appear,
Glorious the comet's train:
Glorious the trumpet and alarm,
Glorious th' Almighty stretch'd-out arm,
Glorious th' enraptur'd main:
Glorious the northern lights astream,
Glorious the song, when God's the theme,
Glorious the thunder's roar:
Glorious hosanna from the den,
Glorious the Catholic amen,
Glorious the martyr's gore:
Glorious, more glorious is the crown
Of Him, that brought salvation down
By meekness, call'd Thy Son;
Thou at stupendous truth believ'd,
And now the matchless deed's achiev'd,
Determin'd, dar'd, and done.
From HYMN TO HEAVENLY BEAUTY.
But whoso may, thrice happy man him hold
Of all on earth whom God so much doth grace
And lets His own Beloved to behold;
For in view of her celestial face
All joy, all bliss, all happiness have place;
Nought on earth can want unto the sight
Who of herself can win the wishful sight.
For she out of her secret treasury,
Plenty of riches forth on him will pour,
Even heavenly riches, where there hidden lie
Within the closet of her chastest bower,
The eternal portion of her precious dower,
Which mighty God hath given to her free,
And to all those which thereof worthy be.
None thereof worthy be but those whom she
Vouchsafeth to her presence to receive,
And letteth them her lovely face to see,
Whereof such wondrous pleasure they conceive,
And sweet contentment, that it doth bereave
Their soul of sense, through infinite delight,
And them transport from flesh into the spright.
In which they see such admirable things
As carries them into ecstasy,
And hear such heavenly notes and carollings
Of God's high praise, that fills the brazen sky;
And feel such joy and pleasure inwardly
That maketh them all worldly cares forget,
And only think on that before them set.
Ah, then, my hungry soul! which long hast fed
On idle fancies of thy foolish thought,
And, with false beauties' flattering bait misled,
Hast after deceitful vain shadows sought,
Which all are fled, and now have left thee nought
But late repentance through thy folly's proof;
Ah! cease to gaze on matter of thy grief:
And look at last up to that sovereign Light,
From whose pure beams all perfect beauty springs,
That kindleth love in every godly spright,
Even the Love of God; which loathing brings
Of this vile world and these gay-seeming things;
With whose sweet pleasures being so possessed,
Thy straying thoughts henceforth forever rest.
The Lord descended from above,
And bowed the heavens most high,
And underneath his feet he cast
The darkness of the sky.
On Cherubim and Seraphim
Full royally he rode,
On the wings of mighty winds
Came flying all abroad.
He sat serene upon the floods,
Their fury to restrain;
And he, sovereign Lord and King
Forevermore shall reign.
There is one Mind, one omnipresent Mind,
Omnific. His most holy name is Love.
Truth of subliming import! With the which
Who feeds and saturates his constant soul,
He from his small particular orbit flies,
With blest outstarting! from Himself he flies,
Stands in the Sun, and with no partial gaze
Views all creation; and he loves it all,
And blesses it, and calls it very good!
This is indeed to dwell with the Most High!
Cherubs and rapture-trembling Seraphim
Can press no nearer to the Almighty's throne.
But that we roam unconscious, or with hearts
Unfeeling of our universal Sire,
And that in His vast family no Cain
Injures uninjured (in her best-aimed blow
Victorious Murder a blind Suicide)
Haply for this some younger Angel now
Looks down on Human Nature: and behold!
A sea of blood bestrewed with wrecks, where mad
Embattling Interests on each other rush
'Tis the sublime of man
Our noontide majesty, to know ourselves
Parts and proportions of one wondrous whole!
This fraternizes man, this constitutes
Our charities and bearings. But 'tis God
Diffused through all that doth make all one whole;
Aught to desire, Supreme Reality!
The plentitude and permanence of bliss!
Made blind by lusts, disinherited of soul,
No common center Man, no common sire
Knoweth! A sordid solitary thing,
Mid countless brethren, with a lonely heart
Through courts and cities the smooth savage roams
Feeling himself, his own low self, the whole;
When by sacred sympathy might make
The whole one Self! Self, that no alien knows!
Self, far-diffused as fancy's wing can travel!
Self, spreading still! Oblivious of its own,
Yet all of all possessing! That is Faith!
'Tis the Messiah's destined victory.
Thus man by his own strength to Heaven would soar And would not be obliged to God for more. Vain, wretched creature, how thou art misled, To think thy wit these God-like notions bred! These truths are not the product of thy mind, But dropp'd from heaven, and of a nobler kind. Revealed religion first informed thy sight, And reason saw not till faith sprung the light. Hence all thy natural worship takes the source: 'Tis Revelation what thou think't Discourse. Else how com'st thou to see these truths so clear, Which so, obscure to heathens did appear? Not Plato these, nor Aristotle found: Not he whose wisdom oracles renowned. Hast thou a wit so deep, or so sublime, Or canst thou lower dive, or higher climb? Canst thou by reason more of Godhead know Than Plutarch, Seneca, or Cicero?
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