Christ's Triumph after Death

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IBegan to glister in her beams, and nowThe roses of the day began to flow'rIn th' eastern garden; for Heav'ns smiling browHalf insolent for joy begun to show: The early Sun came lively dancing out, And the brag lambs ran wantoning about,That heav'n, and earth might seem in triumph both to shout.

IIBegan t' eblazon from her leafy bed,The waking swallow broke her half-year's sleep,And every bush lay deeply purpuredWith violets, the wood's late-wintry head Wide flaming primroses set all on fire, And his bald trees put on their green attire,Among whose infant leaves the joyous birds conspire.

IIIOf unshorn mountains, blown with easy winds,Dandled the morning's childhood in their arms,And, if they chanc'd to slip the prouder pines,The under Corylets did catch the shines, To gild their leaves; saw never happy year Such joyfull triumph, and triumphant cheer,As though the aged world anew created were.

IVAnd stick'st thy habit full of daisies red?Seems that thou dost to some high thought aspire,And some new-found-out bridegroom mean'st to wed:Tell me ye Trees, so fresh apparelled, So never let the spitefull canker waste you, So never let the heav'ns with lightening blast you,Why go you now so trimly drest, or whither haste you?

VSo often wanders from his nearest way,As though some other way thy stream would slide,And fain salute the place where something lay?And you sweet birds, that shaded from the ray, Sit carolling, and piping grief away, The while the lambs to hear you dance, and play,Tell me sweet birds, what is it you so fain would say?

VIGett'st such a numerous issue of thy bride,How chance thou hotter shin'st, and draw'st more near?Sure thou somewhere some worthy sight hast spied,That in one place for joy thou canst not bide: And you dead swallows, that so lively now Through the flit air your winged passage row,How could new life into your frozen ashes flow?

VIITell me, why blaze ye from your leafy bed,And woo men's hands to rent you from your sets,As though you would somewhere be carried,With fresh perfumes, and velvets garnished? But ah, I need not ask, 'tis surely so, You all would to your Saviour's triumphs go,There would ye all await, and humble homage do.

VIIIAnd lovely flow'rs embellished adore,Such roses never in her garland grew,Such lilies never in her breast she wore,Like beauty never yet did shine before: There should the Sun another Sun behold, From whence himself borrows his locks of gold,That kindle heav'n, and earth with beauties manifold.

IXBeams of more lively, and more lovely grace,Arising from their beds of incense meet;There should the swallow see new life embraceDead ashes, and the grave unheal his face, To let the living from his bowels creep, Unable longer his own dead to keep:There heav'n and earth should see their Lord awake from sleep.

XNow Judge of all himself; before forsakenOf all the world, that from his aid did fly,Now by the Saints into their armies taken;Before for an unworthy man mistaken, Now worthy to be God confess'd; before With blasphemies by all the basest tore,Now worshipped by Angels, that him low adore.

XIBut now, imbrighten'd into heav'nly flame,The Sun itself outglitters, though he shouldClimb to the top of the celestial frame,And force the stars go hide themselves for shame: Before that under earth was buried, But now about the heavens is carried,And there for ever by the Angels heried.

XIIBut newly wash'd in the green element,Before the drowsy Night is half aware,Shooting his flaming locks with dew besprent,Springs lively up into the orient, And the bright drove, fleec'd all in gold, he chases To drink, that on the Olympic mountain grazes,The while the minor Planets forfeit all their faces.

XIIIThat heav'n began his cloudy stars despise,Half envious, to see on earth appearA greater light, than flam'd in his own skies:At length it burst for spite, and out there flies A globe of winged angels, swift as thought, That on their spotted feathers lively caughtThe sparkling earth, and to their azure fields it brought.

XIVWith eyes cast up, as greedy to be fed,And hands upheld, themselves to ground did throw,So when the Trojan boy was ravished,As through th' Idalian woods they say he fled, His aged guardians stood all dismay'd, Some lest he should have fallen back afraid,And some their hasty vows, and timely prayers said.

XVAnd let the Prince of Glory enter in:At whose brave volley of siderial states,The sun to blush, and stars grow pale were seen,When, leaping first from earth, he did begin To climb his angels' wings; then open hang Your chrystal doors, so all the chorus sangOf heav'nly birds, as to the stars they nimbly sprang.

XVIThe pleasant valleys singing for delight,And wanton mountains dance about the lands,The while the fields, struck with the heav'nly light,Set all their flow'rs a smiling at the sight, The trees laugh with their blossoms, and the sound Of the triumphant shout of praise, that crown'dThe flaming Lamb, breaking through heav'n, hath passage found.

XVIITo see the pow'rs of Hell in triumph led,And with small stars a garland interchas'dOf olive leaves they bore, to crown his head,That was before with thorns degloried, After them flew the Prophets, brightly stol'd In shining lawn, and wimpled manifold,Striking their ivory harps, strung all in chords of gold.

XVIIITen thousand Saints at once, that with the sound,The hollow vaults of heav'n for triumph rung:The Cherubins their clamours did confoundWith all the rest, and clapp'd their wings around: Down from their thrones the Dominations flow, And at his feet their crowns, and sceptres throw,And all the princely Souls fell on their faces low.

XIXBut out they rush among the heav'nly crowd,Seeking their heav'n out of their heav'n to find,Sounding their silver trumpets out so loud,That the shrill noise broke through the starry cloud, And all the virgin Souls, in pure array, Came dancing forth, and making joyous play;So him they lead along into the courts of day.

XXWhere never war, nor wounds abide him more,But in that house, eternal peace doth play,Acquieting the souls, that new beforeTheir way to heav'n through their own blood did score, But now, estranged from all misery, As far as heav'n and earth discoasted lie,Swelter in quiet waves of immortality.

© Giles Fletcher The Younger