204
COWLEY'S POEMS.
[B. I.
No pale-fac'd moon does in stol'n beams appear,
Or with dim taper scatters darkness there;
On no smooth sphere the restless seasons slide,
No circling motion doth swift time divide; 360
Nothing is there to come, and nothing past,
But an eternal Now does always last.
There sits th' Almighty, First of all, and End;
Whom nothing but himself can comprehend;
Who with his word commanded all to be, 365
And all obey'd him, for that word was He:
Only he spoke, and every thing that is
From out the womb of fertile nothing ris'.
Oh, who shall tell, who shall describe thy throne,
Thou great Three-One! 370
There thou thyself dost in full presence show,
Not absent from these meaner worlds below;
No, if thou wert, the elements' league would cease,
And all thy creatures break thy Nature's peace;
The sun would stop his course, or gallop back, 375
The stars drop out, the poles themselves would crack;
Earth's strong foundations would be torn in twain,
And this vast work all ravel out again
To its first nothing: for his spirit contains
The well-knit mass; from him each creature gains
Being and motion, which he still bestows; 381
From him th' effect of our weak action flows:
Round him vast armies of swift angels stand,
Which seven triumphant generals command;
They sing loud anthems of his endless praise, 385
And with fix'd eyes drink-in immortal rays:
Or with dim taper scatters darkness there;
On no smooth sphere the restless seasons slide,
No circling motion doth swift time divide; 360
Nothing is there to come, and nothing past,
But an eternal Now does always last.
There sits th' Almighty, First of all, and End;
Whom nothing but himself can comprehend;
Who with his word commanded all to be, 365
And all obey'd him, for that word was He:
Only he spoke, and every thing that is
From out the womb of fertile nothing ris'.
Oh, who shall tell, who shall describe thy throne,
Thou great Three-One! 370
There thou thyself dost in full presence show,
Not absent from these meaner worlds below;
No, if thou wert, the elements' league would cease,
And all thy creatures break thy Nature's peace;
The sun would stop his course, or gallop back, 375
The stars drop out, the poles themselves would crack;
Earth's strong foundations would be torn in twain,
And this vast work all ravel out again
To its first nothing: for his spirit contains
The well-knit mass; from him each creature gains
Being and motion, which he still bestows; 381
From him th' effect of our weak action flows:
Round him vast armies of swift angels stand,
Which seven triumphant generals command;
They sing loud anthems of his endless praise, 385
And with fix'd eyes drink-in immortal rays:
