English

Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit
Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal taste
Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden , till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,
Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top
Of Oreb , or of Sinai , didst inspire
That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed,
In the Beginning how the Heav'ns and Earth
Rose out of Chaos : or if Sion Hill.
Delight thee more, and Siloa's Brook that flow'd
Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence

This word " redeem" that in his mouth did sound
Did put David, it seemeth unto me,
As in a trance to stare upon the ground
And with his thought the height of heaven to see,
Where he beholds the Word that should confound
The sword of death, by humble ear to be
In mortal maid, in mortal habit made,
Eternal life in mortal veil to shade.

He seeth that Word, when full ripe time should come,
Do way that veil by fervent affection,
Torn off with death (for death should have her doom),
And leapeth lighter from such corruption

When David had perceived in his breast
The sprite of God returned that was exiled,
Because he knew he hath alone expressed
These great things that greater sprite compiled,
As shawm or pipe lets out the sound impressed,
By music's art forged tofore and filed,
I say when David had perceived this
The sprite of comfort in him revived is.
For thereupon he maketh argument
Of reconciling unto the Lord's grace,
Although some time to prophesy have lent
Both brute beasts and wicked hearts a place.

Of deep secrets that David here did sing,
Of mercy, of faith, of frailty, of grace,
Of God's goodness, and of justifying,
The greatness did so astone himself a space,
As who might say: " Who hath expressed this thing?
I, sinner, I! What have I said, alas?
That God's goodness would within my song entreat
Let me again consider and repeat."

And so he doth, but not expressed by word.
But in his heart he turneth and poiseth
Each word that erst his lips might forth afford.
He points, he pauseth, he wonders, he praiseth

Like as the pilgrim that in a long way
Fainting for heat, provoked by some wind
In some fresh shade lieth down at mids of day,
So doth of David the wearied voice and mind
Take breath of sighs when he had sung this lay
Under such shade as sorrow hath assigned;
And as the t'one still minds his voyage end,
So doth the t'other to mercy still pretend.

On sonour chords his fingers he extends
Without hearing or judgement of the sound.
Down from his eyes a storm of tears descends,
Without feeling, that trickle on the ground,

This song ended, David did stint his voice;
And in that while, about he with his eye
Did seek the cave with which, withouten noise,
His silence seemed to argue and reply
Upon this peace, this peace that did rejoice
The soul with mercy, that mercy so did cry
And found mercy at mercy's plentiful hand,
Never denied but where it was withstand.

As the servant that, in his master's face
Finding pardon of his passed offence,
Considering his great goodness and his grace,
Glad tears distils as gladsome recompense,

Whoso hath seen the sick in his fever,
After truce taken with the heat or cold
And that the fit is passed of his fervour,
Draw fainting sighs, let him, I say, behold
Sorrowful David after his langour,
That with the tears that from his eyes down rolled
Paused his plaint and laid adown his harp,
Faithful record of all his sorrows sharp.

It seemed now that of his fault the horror
Did make afeard no more his hope of grace,
The threats whereof in horrible terror
Did hold his heart as in despair a space,

O lord, I dred, and that I did not dred
I me repent, and evermore desyre
The, the to dred. I open here and spred
My fawte to the, but thou, for thi goodnes,
Mesure it not in largenes nor in bred,
Punish it not, as askyth the grettnes
Off thi furour, provokt by my offence.
Tempre, O lord, the harme of my excesse
With mendyng will, that I for recompense
Prepare agayne; and rather pite me,
For I ame wek and clene withowt defence:
More is the nede I have of remede,
For off the hole the lech takyth no cure.

CLII

Love, to give law unto his subject hearts,
Stood in the eyes of Barsabe the bright,
And in a look anon himself converts
Cruelly pleasant before King David sight;
First dazed his eyes, and further forth he starts
With venomed breath, as softly as he might
Touched his senses, and overruns his bones
With creeping fire sparpled for the nonce.

And when he saw that kindled was the flame,
The moist poison in his heart he lanced
So that the soul did tremble with the same.

Thus Sarah slept, and woke in a lone world,
And that was almost fifty years ago.
Her children's generation passed away,
Leaving the things, or what was left of them,
While time went on, and great-grandchildren came
Peeping at Sarah's house. She let them play
About the place with puppies and the kids,
And loved them while they played thus, but they grew
Out of her secret, the inheritance.
That Sarah felt went with the land and house;
Which those who could not find it should not share.

In still communion Sarah has lived on,