The Glorious Lover, Book 1 · Chapter 2
CHAP. II.
Shewing what entertainment the Prince of Light me… with at his firſt arrival. How there being no room for him in the Inn, he was forced to lie in the Stable, and make his bed in the Manger. As alſo how he having laid aſide his Glorious and Princely Robes, was not known by the people of that Country; and how he was wronged, and abominably abuſed by them.
AWake my Muſe! I hear the Prince is come;
Go and attend him, view the very Room
Where he at firſt doth lodg: ſee how they treat
A King, whoſe Pow'r is ſo exceeding great.
Much Rumor of his coming, I am told,
Was ſpread abroad amongſt them there of old,
And many waiting for him, long'd to ſee
What kind of King and Perſon he ſhould be.
Oh! what proviſion now to entertain
Him did they make? my Soul's in grevious pain
To hear of this. Doth not the Trumpet ſound,
And Joy and melody ſweetly abound
I'th hearts of all, who heard of this good News?
How did they carry't to him, or how uſe
This lovely One, whom Angels do adore,
And Glorious Seraphims fall down before?
Ah! how methinks ſhould they now look about
Some curious ſtately Structure to find out,
Some Prince's Palace for his Reſidence,
Or ſtrong fair Caſtle for his ſafe Defence!
Don't people leap for Joy, whil'ſt Angels ſing,
To welcome in their long expected King?
Do not the Conduits through all ſtreets combine,
In ſtead of Water, wholly to run Wine?
Do not great Swarms of people 'bout him ſly,
Like to ſome ſtrange and glorious Prodigy?
What dos't thou ſay, my Muſe, Art wholly mute?
Doth this not with thy preſent purpoſe ſuit?
Ah! yes, it does, but how ſhal't be expreſt?
The grief that ſeizes on my panting Breaſt,
My heart into a trembling fit doth fall,
To think how he contemned was of all.
The Savage Monſters did this Prince reject.
And treat him with affronts and diſreſpect:
When he for them had taken all this pain,
They neither would him know nor entertain:
The very Inn, where firſt he went to lie,
For to vouchſafe him Lodging did deny.
No Room (alas!) had they; but if 'twere ſo
He would be there, to th' Stable he muſt go.
To'th' Stable then goes he contentedly,
Without the leaſt reflection or reply.
The ſilly Aſs, and labouring Ox muſt be
Companions now to Sacred Royalty;
Expos'd by Greater Brutes, he muſt (alas)
Take up with the Dull-Oxe, and painful Aſs,
Who their great Maker and Preſerver was;
And in the Manger's forc'd to make his bed,
Without one Pillow to ſupport his Head.
Let Heav'n aſtoniſht, Earth amazed be
At this ungrateful Inhumanity
Let Seas riſe up in heaps, and after quit
Their Courſe, theſe Barbarous people to affright.
Oh! what a mighty condeſcention's here!
What ſtory may with this, with this, compare?
Is this the entertainment, they afford!
And this a Palace for ſo great a Lord!
Is this their kindneſs to ſo dear a friend!
Do they him to a filthy Stable ſend!
Is that a Chamber ſuiting his Degree!
Or fit the Manger ſhould allotted be,
For him to lay his Glorious Body in,
(Of whom the Prophet ſaith he knew no Sin?)
Whoſe footſtool's Earth, and Heaven is his Throne,
What ne're a better Bed for ſuch an one!
That has ſo vaſt a Journey undertook,
And for their ſakes ſuch Glory too forſook!
Is this great Prince with ſuch mean Lodging pleas'd
So that he may of love-ſick pains be eas'd!
O what a Lover's this! Almighty Love!
How potently doſt thou affections move!
What ſhall a Prince be thus ore-come by thee,
And brought into contempt to this degree!
Sure this may melt an heart of hardeſt Stone,
When 'tis conſider'd well and thought upon.
But no leſs worthy note is it to hear
The manner how this Soveraign did appear.
Was it in Pomp and outward Splendor bright?
Which doth the ſenſual heart of man invite,
To caſt a view, and deep reſpect to ſhow,
As unto haughty Monarchs here they do:
Like to a Prince, or like himſelf, did he
His beams diſplay that every eye might ſee
In his bleſt Face moſt radiant Majeſty?
No, no, ſo far was he from being proud,
That he thought fit his Glories all to ſhroud;
And, like the Sun, invelop'd in a Cloud,
Did vail his Heav'nly Luſtre, would not make
Himſelf of Reputation, for the ſake
Of that poor Soul he came for to ſeek out:
He ſaw 'twas good, that he might work about
His bleſt Deſign, himſelf thus to deny,
And ſhew a pattern of humility.
His glorious Robes he freely did lay off,
Though thereby made th' object of men's ſcoff,
Who viewing his deſpiſed mean condition,
Welcom'd him with contempt, ſcorn, and deriſion:
For 'twas 'ith form of a poor ſervant he
Appear'd to all, the very low'ſt degree,
Which amongſt all the ſons of Adam are
And doth not this ſtill wondrous Love declare!
The people of that Country too I find
To groſs miſtakes ſo readily inclin'd,
They judg'd him a poor Carpenters Son born,
And ſtigmatiz'd him with it in great ſcorn.
Nay, ſome affirm he worked at the Trade,
For which they did him mightily upbraid.
How ever this we muſt to all proclaim,
He that all Riches had, moſt poor became;
That ſo the Soul through his ſad poverty
Might be enriched to Eternity.
The Foxes of the Earth, and Birds of th' Air
Had more (alas!) than fell unto his ſhare.
In holes the one, in neſts the other fed;
But he, (poor he!) no where to lay his head.
Not one poor Cottage had this precious King,
Although the rightful Heir of every thing.
The meaneſt man almoſt of Adam's Race
Seem'd to be in as good, nay better caſe,
Reſpecting outward Wealth and Glory here;
Thoſe things no Price in his affections bear.
Silver and Gold the Muckworm Wordling's Gods▪
He knew to be but more refined Clods
Of that ſame Earth, which he himſelf had made
Ripe by a Sun, ſcarce fit to be his ſhade.
No Mony, doubtleſs, had this Prince at all
In purſe or coffer: for, when ſome did call
For Ceſars Tribute, then, behold, muſt he
Diſpatch in haſte a Servant to the Sea
In an uncertain Fiſhes mouth to ſpy
A piece of Coyn (Oh wondrous Treaſury!)
With which he ſtraight did Caeſars Tribute pay▪
(Though ſmall Engagement on the Children lay
Rather than hee'l be diſobedient thought,
To raiſe the Tax, a Miracle is wrought.
But here tis like ſome may deſire to know
The cauſe why he abas'd himſelf ſo low?
The Anſwer to which Query's very plain;
His Errand ſo requir'd, if he'd obtain
The Soul, for whom his Country he did leave,
He of his Glory muſt himſelf bereave.
'Twas Love that brought him into this diſguiſe,
To come incognito to haughty Eyes,
To lay aſide awhile his Robes of State,
And thus in Pilgrims weeds upon her wait:
Without this Form aſſum'd, theſe Raggs put on,
The mighty Work could never have been done.
She grov'ling lay below, unable quite
Once to aſpire unto his Glorious Sight.
Therefore muſt he a Garb ſuitable take
To raiſe her up, and his dear Conſort make;
He muſt deſcend, that ſhe might mount above,
And joyn in a fit Entercourſe of Love.
So the kind Sun beams do the Dunghil gild,
That it to Heaven may Exalations yeild,
With pregant Show'rs to fertilize the Field.