Tixall Poetry/Cupio Dissolvi. St Paule
Cupio Dissolvi. St Paule.
The soule which doth with God unite;Those gaitys, how doth she slight, Which o'er opinion sway?Like sacred virgin wax, which shinesOn altars, or on martyrs' shrines, How doth she burne away?
How soone she leaves the pride of wealth,The flatteries of youth and health, And fame's more pretious breathAnd every gaudy circumstance,That doth the pomp of life advance, At the approach of death!
The cunning of astrologersObserves each motion of the stars, Placing all knowledge there;And lovers in their mistres' eyesContract those wonders of the skies, And seeke no higher sphere.
The wandring pilot toils to findThe causes that produce the wind, Still gazing on the pole;The polititian scornes all artBut what doth pride and power impart, And swells the ambitious soule.
But he whom heavenly fire doth warme,And, gainst these powerfull follys arme, Doth soberly disdaine,All these fond human misterys,As the deceitful and unwise Distempers of the braine.