370 [from Gondibert Book 2]
37.
There, when they thought they saw in well sought Books,
Th’assembled soules of all that Men held wise,
It bred such awfull rev’rence in their looks,
As if they saw the bury’d writers rise.…
39.
5 They saw Egyptian Roles, which vastly great,
Did like faln Pillars lie, and did display
The tale of Natures life, from her first heat,
Till by the Flood o’re-cool’d, she felt decay.
40.
And large as these (for Pens were Pencils then)
10 Others that Egypts chiefest Science show’d;
Whose River forc’d Geometry on Men,
Which did distinguish what the Nyle o’re-flow’d.
41.
Neer them, in Piles, Chaldean Cous’ners lie;
Who the hid bus’nesse of the Stars relate;
15 Who make a Trade of worship’d Prophesie;
And seem to pick the Cabinet of Fate.
42.
There Persian Magi stand; for wisdom prais’d;
Long since wise Statesmen, now Magicians thought;
Altars and Arts are soon to fiction rais’d,
20 And both would have, that miracles are wrought.
43.
In a dark Text, these States-men left their Mindes;
For well they knew, that Monarch’s Mistery
(Like that of Priests) but little rev’rence findes,
When they the Curtain op’e to ev’ry Eie.
44.
25 Behinde this Throng, the talking Greeks had place;
Who Nature turn to Art, and Truth disguise,
As skill does native beauty oft deface;
With Termes they charm the weak, and pose the wise.
45.
Now they the Hebrew, Greek, and Roman spie;
30 Who for the Peoples ease, yoak’d them with Law;
Whom else, ungovern’d lusts would drive awry;
And each his own way frowardly would draw.
46.
In little Tomes these grave first Lawyers lie,
In Volumes their Interpreters below;
35 Who first made Law an Art, then Misterie;
So cleerest springs, when troubled, cloudy grow.
47.
But here, the Souls chief Book did all precede;
Our Map tow’rds Heav’n; to common Crowds deny’d;
Who proudly aim to teach, ere they can read;
40 And all must stray, where each will be a Guide.
48.
About this sacred little Book did stand
Unwieldy Volumes, and in number great;
And long it was since any Readers hand
Had reach’d them from their unfrequented Seat.
49.
45 For a deep Dust (which Time does softly shed,
Where only Time does come) their Covers beare;
On which, grave Spyders, streets of Webbs had spred;
Subtle, and slight, as the grave Writers were.
50.
In these, Heav’ns holy fire does vainly burn;
50 Nor warms, nor lights, but is in Sparkles spent;
Where froward Authors, with disputes, have torn
The Garment seamlesse as the Firmament.