html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }he Gen'rous Victor, to renown his Bayes,
Devotes to Peace some glory of his dayes;
Pleas'd, that his Armes her gentle Thrones restore,
Fit to partake the ease of mighty Power.
Though oft great Monarchs artful Treaties make,
Which by vile stratagems of Faith they break;
And by perfidious leasure respite warre,
More Engins of destruct'on to prepare,
While these Great Brittish Princes having rais'd
Trophies of war, Fame through the world had blaz'd,
(No less Heroick) grant their Foes a Peace,
The Noble End, just Arms must guide, and cease.
Nor did these Hero's Roman Arts distrust,
Or Gauls, in faith reputed more unjust;
Since from their conqu'ring mercy, Truce they gain,
Less imp'ous held, than plighted faith to feign;
Or tempt their Arms a Conquest to pursue,
And heav'n oblige to joyn in vengeance too.
From whence the great (devoutly wise) must own
All high atchievments of the Sword, or Throne;
That Power by Sacred Tyes may Mankind awe,
Too rough alone to guide with humane Law;
Thus from the world, Heav'ens legislative book
Of Providence, Domin'on Copies took;
Lest Chance, or Guilt entitle Scepters here,
And like tam'd Beasts, Men without conscience fear.
Whence first industr'ous Rulers vulgars taught,
How Order, Heav'ns Great Works divinely wrought,
While Power then Infant, to perfection grew,
And made Faith primitive with Reason too.
Thus Man from Nature Heaven did first revere,
E'r Priesthoods pious frauds induc'd their fear;
Who Man directed from this Road to stray,
That these (as hireling Guides) might lead his way.
And here themselves set up, e'r mankind saw
How Sects had mask'd the face of heav'ns bright Law;
Who like Seel'd Doves, their souls had taught to fly
That lose themselves, in hope to reach the Sky.
Thus Reason, and Belief, at diff'rence grew;
Instructing more than from Heav'ns works men knew,
On which, while they with wondring prospect look,
Admire Faiths Text, unwritten in this Book.
While that reflects a Being to our sense,
In this vast mirror, of omnipotence;
And but the essence from us does conceal,
Too great for Natures Glasses to reveal.
Hence Man, from her own Institutes, first read
The Book of Heav'n, in Works, and Causes spread,
Not daring further by rash zeal to pry,
Lest Faith should prove his own bold mystery.
This antient zeal in Britain practic'd stood,
Untaught from Sects, the seeds of war, and blood;
Who wayes to Heav'n by sev'ral tracts devise,
As if Faiths could be various, and wise:
Or that above such peaceless Conducts were,
As wings of discord Souls must thither bear:
Whilst in the Worlds great Volume here we find
A Sacred Order, and unerring mind.
And hence with pity did our Britains see
The worlds divided bold Divinity;
As if heav'ns works did not enough declare,
Or to Beliefs alone, defective were.
While they with sober eyes heav'ns Volume read,
Securely rev'renc'd by implicit dread,
To which, in Natures works, their sense must bow,
That Faith on Reasons wings may upward go.
But as contemplative Devotions seem
Useless Conceptions on a Sacred Theam;
Except the Soul oblige the sense to be,
A due subservient in each faculty.
Which here a publick practice did avow,
That Temples Sacred Dedications show;
The Presence Chambers kept on Earth, for Heaven,
Where Souls united-Rev'rence best is given.
Hither the Princes, as the early morn,
With rosie blushes does the East adorn,
In Royal state, with Great Bonduca come,
To pay their thanks for vanquish'd Gaul, and Rome.
Yet in so solemn pomp they now appear,
As does on vulgar eyes impress heav'ns fear;
While Princes scarce divinely Subjects sway,
Unless they guide them their celestial way.
A Robe of Arthurs, Albianus wears,
Which his great Lineage, and Atchievments bears;
Kept sacred to adorn his mighty line,
When Temples with their offer'd Trophies shine.
A Vest as Admir'd Vortiger had on,
Which from this Islands foes his Grandsire won;
Whose artful colour pass'd the Tyrian Dye,
Oblig'd to triumph in this Legacy.
'Twixt these, the Queen more bright, than Morning beams,)
Whose beauties, Poets might have wish'd their theams;
When they the Cyprian Goddess feign'd to be
Loves matchless Copy, and Divinity.
Her Robes were like the Easts bright Curtains drawn,
With Stars embroider'd, that precede the dawn;
Which curious Virgins had with needles wrought,
And to their beauteous Queen a present brought.
O'r these in Tresses hangs her Aubrone hair,
Softer than Gossamors, that glide the air;
While on her head a golden Crown is worn,
And in her hand a Jewell'd Scepter born,
Thus to this Temple Queen, and Princes came,
Which, if my Muse can credit give to Fame,
In London stood a Fane of more renown,
Than other Cities through the world had known.
No date so antient, to record the Day,
When this vast building in foundation lay;
Whither from hands, that stone could liquid mould,
The Gothick long lost Art, or Dorrick old.
White Marble works the outward Frame adorn,
By mighty Pillars of like substance born;
And at some distance to the eye does show
Like Alpine Mountains, cover'd o'r with snow.
And though this Fane did wond'rous art compleat,
The Dedication's more divinely great;
Which here to Natures sacred works is rais'd,
From whence the Godhead, though unknown, is prais'd.
O'r a high Portal an Inscript'on's read,
In antient Text, that speaks this Temples dread;
By which time (Natures Child) stands figur'd young,
Who feels no age, though ages does prolong.
No less admir'd the inside does appear,
As if Art, only plac'd her wonders here;
Or Nature had her choice mater'als brought,
And with these Artist; hands, her self had wrought.
The inward structures were of pollish'd stone,
From Quarries brought, to man this day unknown;
Which like Heav'ns face, their Azure glories shew,
Or clearest Saphirs of the richest blew.
Whose spacious Roof such lofty Pillars bear,
As tallest Cedars shrubs to them appear:
On which their skill (as from above inspir'd;)
Such works had wrought, no mortal like admir'd;
While from the Walls, the Roof, and Pavements here
So strangely represented objects are,
As 'twas some doubt to all in heart unclean,
These stones reflections should express their stain:
Which speaks how pure the souls of men should be,
That here adore this great Divinity.
Within this mighty Fane were lesser seen,
To Natures Morals had long sacred been,
As Justice, Temp'rance, divine Charity,
And Fortitude, whose glory crowns the three.
But loves Religion, (a mysterious grace;)
Has from all these, a fifth divided place;
Which for mans sake, this heav'nly Name must give,
Lest claim'd by beasts, from procreation live.
Here the vow'd Lover takes his bloomy Bride,
Her Virgin Zone, by Maiden hands unty'd;
Where Monuments were rais'd to give such fame,
That bare through wedlock an unspotted name.
But these my Muses Records faintly shew,
Which tells, that Mar'age, happy then, made few,
And though tow'rds heav'n, thus chain'd, such seem to move,
Proves but too oft, the schism, & war of love.
Yet here (for Loves repute,) some Virgins lye
In Chrystal Tombs, were said love-sick to die;
Though this the Modern doubtfully believe,
Since this disease it self such cures can give.
The Queen, and Princes passing these Fanes by,
Each casts on Loves, their more indulgent eye;
As if they'd secretly his ayd implore,
Or would his Altars, above all, adore.
Pass'd through the Body of this Temple, they
See Iv'ry Gates, a spacious Quire display;
Which but admittance gives on solemn dayes,
The High Appartment call'd, of Natures praise.
And here the Druids, so renown'd by Fame,
In order stand to celebrate this Name;
Their Priestly Vestments of a speckled green,
As in her bloomy Livery Spring is seen.
Whose Pow'r Divine in Mystick Notes they sing,
With all her Summer glories, and her Spring;
Whence Vegitives, without sence, life receive,
And Man, and Beasts, does healthful vigors give.
Describing next the Oceans vast extent,
With all the motions of that Element;
Why Egypts Nile so usefully does flow,
While other Streams their narrow Ebbs must know.
Then from stupend'ous Rolls of Natures Law,
Præcepts from humane life divinely draw;
Free from disguise, in controverted Texts,
The marks of Error, and the Badge of Sects.
And thus these sacred Monitors declaim
Vice, (the Souls riot) in our Bodies frame;
But not, as this day, Priests our souls invade,
Since damning men was then an unknown Trade.
Lest Nature we a guilty party make,
Who from her own excesses frailties take;
Or that Heav'n should to us no pity give,
That with the seeds of vice, are born, and live.
And here the Bards Prophetick Order's shown,
Whom Brittish Stories less than Fames Renown;
Clad like the Druids, but they Badges wear,
Which only Natures Prophets here must bear.
These from the Sun, and Moon, and Starry Sky,
Or blazing Comets, some tell move as high;
Predict effects, that Mortals dread below,
And thence Aerial Meteors Causes show,
With these Merlinus fam'd above the rest,
Appears, his head with Lawrel Chaplets drest;
Who gave Philosophy a sublime Fame,
And from the Muses had a sacred Name:
Whose Leaves (than Sybils more admir'd) were kept,
Within this Temple, till Times hand had swept
This Frame to Rubbage; that his works seem now,
But fictions wonders, his false Copies show.
And here he dedicates a wond'rous Sphære,
That Archymedes fam'd could not compare;
In which the Sun, his lov'd Ecliptick, shines,
With every Planets Orb, and various Lines.
And as these rowl within a starry Sky,
A space transparent entertains the eye;
The Sphære of Atoms call'd, Natures first seed,
Which scatter'd hence, some think the world did breed.
And these like cinders, glomer in a flame,
Figur'd more bright than all the starry Frame;
In which this mighty Artist had confin'd,
By mystick marks, the worlds eternal mind.
The Queen, and Princes having thus beheld,
How great Merlinus Art all known excell'd;
With bended knees, this sacred Frame adore,
Copy'd from Natures providence, and pow'r.
To whose high Name they glor'ous Off'rings spread,
On Altars rais'd to express their souls high Dread;
With Trophies, that from Rome, and Gaul were won,
The Bards, and Druids having Praises sung,
This mighty temple then in state thy leave,
And Peoples joyes through spacious streets receive.
While Londons roofs, laid waste by foes and fire,
With stately Edifices now aspire;
By num'rous hands, and Artists wond'rous powers,
Thick, as in Summer, Bees returne from flowers,
Their waxen Cells in busie Swarms to raise;
Or as the Ant provides for winter dayes;
But more than happy they, that live to see
London repair her late calamity;
Whose structures, flames (without Foes aid) consum'd,
Yet like the Phænix, (in her dust intomb'd)
May she spring from her ashes, and renew
Her antient splendors, with far greater too;
And if my Muse can true Præsages give,
Her Name from Fate, shall yet more famous live.
And thus to Court this Royal State repairs,
Where Joy a glor'ous face of greatness bears;
The dayes remains, in sumptuous mirth to spend,
And thus this vast Magnificence does end.
The End of the First Canto.