home | index | concordance | composite list of variants | help |
An Anatomy of the World.
The first Anniversary.
When that rich Soul which to her heaven is gone,
Whom all do celebrate, who know they have one,
(For who is sure he hath a Soul, unless
It see, and judg, and follow worthiness,
And by deeds praise it? he who doth not this,
May lodg an inmate soul, but 'tis not his)
When that Queen ended here her progress time,
And, as t'her standing house to heaven did clime;
Where loath to make the Saints attend her long,
She's now a part both of the Quire and Song:
This World, in that great earthquake languished;
For in a common bath of tears it bled,
Which drew the strongest vital spirits out:
But succour'd them with a perplexed doubt,
Whether the world did lose, or gain in this,
(Because since now no other way there is,
But goodness, to see her, whom all would see,
All must endeavour to be good as she)
This great consumption to a fever turn'd,
And so the world had fits; it joy'd, it mourn'd;
And, as men think, that Agues physick are,
And th'ague being spent, give over care:
So thou sick world, mistak'st thy self to be
Well, when alas, thou art in a Lethargie:
Her death did wound and tame thee than, and than
Thou might'st have better spar'd the Sun,* or man.
That wound was deep, but 'tis more misery,
That thou hast lost thy sense and memory.

[CW: 'Twas]