All their eternal day in songs employing; Joy is their end, without end of their joying: Full, yet without satiety, of that Which whets and quiets greedy appetite; For things that pass are pass'd; and in this field, The trees together fruit and blossom yield; About the holy city rolls a flood Of molten chrystal, like a sea of glass; That all things else it wholly did surpass: Her streets, the stars instead of stones did pave, On which soft streaming manna like pure snow did wave. In midst of this city celestial, Where the eternal temple should have rose, End and beginning of each thing that grows, That hath no eyes to see, nor ears to hear, That no where is contain'd, and yet is every where. Changer of all things, yet immutable; Before and after all, yet first and last; Who moving all, is yet immoveable; Great without quantity: in whose forecast Things past are present, things to come are past; Swift without motion;-unto whose broad eye The hearts of wicked men all open lie; At once absent and present to them, far and nigh. It is no flaming lustre, made of light; No sweet content; or well-turned harmony; Ambrosia for to feast the appetite; Or flowery odour, mixed with spicery; No soft embrace, nor pleasures bodily; And yet it is a kind of inward feast; . A harmony that sounds within the breast, A heav'nly feast, no hunger can consume; A light unseen, yet shines in every place; A sound no time can steal; a sweet perfume No winds can scatter; an entire embrace That no satiety can e'er debase: Receiv'd into so high a favour, there The saints, with their compeers, whole worlds outwear; And things unseen do see, and things unheard do hear. Ah foolish shepherds! who were wont t'esteem, When sojourning with us in low degree, He wash'd his flock in Jordan's spotless tide; And that his dear remembrance might abide, Did to us come, and with us liv'd, and for us died ! But now such lively colours did embeam His sparkling forehead, and such shining rays Fairest of fairs, that at his eyes doth dress Her glorious face; those eyes from whence are shed Attractions infinite; where to express His love, high God all heav'n as captive leads And in those windows doth his arms englaze, And on those eyes the angels all do gaze, And from those eyes, the lights of heav'n obtain their blaze. But let the Kentish lad that lately taught Eclectas * hymen with ten thousand flow'rs Of choicest praise; and hung her heavenly bow'rs With saffron garlands, dress'd for nuptial paramours : * The human soul. Let his shrill trumpet with its silver blast, Impotent words; weak lines; that strive in vain, So heavenly sight, as none can greater feign, Infinite sure those joys!-my words but light: Light as the palace where he dwells,-O then how bright! END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. |