Introduction
xlix
Of Nature's powerful Hand,
Which doth with Reins the Universe command.
My Song shall comprehend each Law,
By which she doth all Beings bind, and awe,
I'll read her mighty Pandects o'r,
My Eye into each Page shall look
Of the Elephantine Book,
And I her choicest Secrets will explore.
Although the Punic Lion should forget
Himself, and to a servile Chain submit,
Though the same Hand which gave him Meat,
Presumes the noble Beast to beat,
Although he meanly then looks low,
And seems to dread his haughty Keeper's Brow,
Yet if the Blood his Face o'r spread,
Which that imperious Blow did shed.
His waken'd Courage doth arise,
And he remembers that by Right he is
The powerful Monarch of the Lawns and Wood
Asham'd of his base Fears, he loud doth cry,
His Plaints invade the Sky,
He breaks his Chain, and meets his Liberty
And his presuming Keeper shall
A bloody Victim to his Fury fall.
When Philomel, which from the Wood
The sleeping Sun was wont to serenade,
Into her Prison is betray'd;
Although she have the choicest Food
Which Man can for his Taste invent,
Yet that will not prevent;
But if she from the Prison view the Shade
Of that delightful Grove,
Where she had often mourn'd her Tragick Love,
The Meats prepar'd she doth despise
Charm'd with the Woods which entertain her Thoughts and Eyes,
She nothing but the Woods affects,
And to their Praise her choicest Notes directs.
The Sapling, forc'd by a strong Hand,
Which doth with Reins the Universe command.
My Song shall comprehend each Law,
By which she doth all Beings bind, and awe,
I'll read her mighty Pandects o'r,
My Eye into each Page shall look
Of the Elephantine Book,
And I her choicest Secrets will explore.
Although the Punic Lion should forget
Himself, and to a servile Chain submit,
Though the same Hand which gave him Meat,
Presumes the noble Beast to beat,
Although he meanly then looks low,
And seems to dread his haughty Keeper's Brow,
Yet if the Blood his Face o'r spread,
Which that imperious Blow did shed.
His waken'd Courage doth arise,
And he remembers that by Right he is
The powerful Monarch of the Lawns and Wood
Asham'd of his base Fears, he loud doth cry,
His Plaints invade the Sky,
He breaks his Chain, and meets his Liberty
And his presuming Keeper shall
A bloody Victim to his Fury fall.
When Philomel, which from the Wood
The sleeping Sun was wont to serenade,
Into her Prison is betray'd;
Although she have the choicest Food
Which Man can for his Taste invent,
Yet that will not prevent;
But if she from the Prison view the Shade
Of that delightful Grove,
Where she had often mourn'd her Tragick Love,
The Meats prepar'd she doth despise
Charm'd with the Woods which entertain her Thoughts and Eyes,
She nothing but the Woods affects,
And to their Praise her choicest Notes directs.
The Sapling, forc'd by a strong Hand,
d
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