Thus he the Church at once protects, and spoils:
But Princes Swords are fharper than their Stiles.
And thus to th' Ages past he makes amends,
Their Charity destroys, their Faith defends.
Then did Religion in a lazy Cell,
In empty, airy Contemplations dwell;
And like the block, unmoved lay: but ours,
As much too active, like the Stork devours.
Is there no temp'rate Region can be known,
Betwixt their Frigid, and our Torrid Zone?
Cou'd we not wake from that Lethargick Dream,
But to be restless in a worse Extream?
And for that Lethargy was there no cure,
But to be caft into a Calenture?
Can Knowledge have no bound, but must advance
So far, to make us with for Ignorance?
And rather in the dark to grope our way,
Than led by a falfe Guide to err by day?
Who fees these difmal heaps, but would demand
What barbarous Invader fackt the Land?
But when he hears, no Goth, no Turk did bring
This Defolation, but a Chriftian King;
When nothing, but the Name of Zeal
'Twixt our beft Actions and the worst of theirs, What does he think our Sacrilege wou'd fpare, When fuch th'effects of our Devotions are?
Parting from thence 'twixt Anger, Shame and Fear,
Those for what's paft, and this for what's too near;
My Eye defcending from the Hill, furveys
Where Thames among the wanton Vallies ftrays.
Thames, the most lov'd of all the Ocean's Sons
By his old Sire, to his Embraces runs
Hafting to pay his Tribute to the Sea,
Like Mortal Life to meet Eternity.
Tho' with those Streams he no refemblance hold, Whofe Foam is Amber, and their Gravel Gold;
His genuine and lefs guilty Wealth t'explore,
Search not his bottom, but furvey his fhore;
O'er which he kindly fpreads his fpacious wing,
And hatches Plenty for th'enfuing Spring.
Nor then destroys it with too fond a stay,
Like Mothers which their Infants overlay.
Nor with a fudden and impetuous Wave,
Like profufe Kings, refumes the Wealth he gave.
No unexpected Inundations spoil
The Mower's hopes, nor mock the Plowman's toil:
But Godlike his unweary'd Bounty flows;
Firft loves to do, then loves the Good he does.
Nor are his Bleffings to his Banks confin'd,
But free, and common, as the Sea or Wind;
When he to boast, or to disperse his Stores
Full of the Tributes of his grateful Shores,
Vifits the World, and in his flying Tow'rs
Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours;
Finds Wealth where 'tis, beftows it where it wants,
Cities in Defarts, Woods in Cities plants.
So that to us no thing, no place is ftrange,
While his fair Bofom is the World's Exchange.
O could I flow like thee, and make thy Stream
My great Example, as it is my Theme!
Tho' deep, yet clear, tho' gentle, yet not dull
Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Heav'n her Eridanus no more shall boaft,
Whose Fame in thine, like leffer Currents loft,
Thy Nobler Streams fhall vifit Jove's Abodes,
To fhine among the Stars, and bath the Gods:
Here Nature, whether more intent to please,
Us or her felf, with ftrange Varieties,
(For things of wonder give no less delight
To the wife Maker's, than Beholders fight.
Tho' these Delights from fev'ral Causes move;
For fo our Children, thus our Friends we love)
Wifely she knew, the Harmony of things,
As well as that of founds, from Discord fprings.
Such was the Discord, which did first disperse
Form, Order, Beauty through the Universe;
While Driness Moisture, Coldness Heat refifts,
All that we have, and that we are, fubfifts.
While the steep horrid roughness of the Wood
Strives with the gentle calmness of the Flood.
Such huge extreams when Nature doth unite,
Wonder from thence refults, from thence Delight.
The Stream is so tranfparent, pure, and clear,
That had the Self-enamour'd * Touth gaz'd here,
So fatally deceiv'd he had not been,
While he the bottom, not his Face had feen.
But his proud Head the airy Mountain hides
Among the Clouds; his Shoulders, and his Sides
A fhady Mantle cloaths; his curled Brows
Frown on the gentle Stream, which calmly flows
* Narciffus.
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