Philosophical Historical and Theological Observations of Thunder, Poem
Sylveſter his Tranſlation of Du Bartas his ſecond day of the firſt week p. 44.
BUt hark what hear I in the Heavens, methinks,
The Worlds wall ſhakes, and his Foundation ſhrinks:
It ſeems even now that horrible Perſephone,
Looſing Meges, Alecto, and Tyſiphone,
Weary of reigning in black Erebus,
Tranſports her Hell between the Heaven and us.
'Tis held, I know, that when a Vapour moiſt,
As well from freſh, as from ſalt water hoiſt,
In the ſame inſtant with hot Exhalations,
In the airy Regions ſecondary Stations;
The fiery Fume, beſieged with the crowd
And keen cold thickneſſe of that dampiſh Cloud,
Strengthens her ſtrength, and with redoubled vollies,
Of joyned heate, on the cold Leagher fallies.
Like as a Lion very late exil'd
From's native Forreſts; ſpit at, and revilld,
Mockt, mov'd and troubled with a thouſand toyes,
By wanton children, idle Girles and Boyes;
With hideous roaring doth his Priſon fill
In's narrow Cloiſter, ramping wildly ſtill,
Runs too and fro; and furious leſſe doth long
For liberty, then to revenge his wrong:
This Fire deſirous to break forth again
From's cloudy Ward, cannot it ſelfe refrain;
But without reſting loud it groans and grumbles,
It roules and roars, and round round round it tumbles,
Till (having rent the lower ſide in ſunder)
With ſulphry flaſh, it have ſhot down its Thunder.
Though willing to unite in theſe Alarms
To's brothers forces his owne fainting Arms,
And th' hotteſt Circle of the world to gain,
To iſſue upwards oft is ſtrives in vaine;
For 'tis there fronted with a Trench ſo large,
And ſuch an Hoſt, that though it often charge
On this and that ſide, the cold Camp about
With his hot skirmiſh; Yet ſtill ſtill the ſtout
Victorious For repelleth every puſh;
So that deſpairing, with a furious ruſh,
Forgetting Honour (which the valiant prize)
Not as it would, but as it may, it flies.
Then the Ocean boyls for feare, the Fiſh do deem;
The Sea too ſhallow to ſafe ſhelter them:
The Earth doth ſhake; The ſhepheard in the Field,
In hollow Rocks himſelfe can hardly ſhield.
Th' affrighted Heav'ns ope, and in the Vale
Of Acheron, grim Pluto's ſelfe looks pale.
Th' aire flames with fire; for the loud roaring Thunder,
(Renting the Cloud that it includes aſunder,)
Sends forth thoſe flaſhes, which ſo blear our ſight:
As wakefull Students in the winters Night,
Againſt the ſteel, glauncing with ſtony knocks,
Strike ſudden ſparks into their Tinder-box.
Moreover Lightning of a Fume is fram'd
Through't ſelfs hot drineſſe, evermore inflam'd;
Whoſe power (paſt credit) without razing skin,
Can bruiſe to powder all our bones within;
Can melt the Gold that greedy Mizers hoord,
In barred cophers, and not burn the boord:
Can break the blade and never ſinge the ſheath;
Can ſcorch an Infant in the womb to Death,
And never blemiſh in one ſort or other,
Fleſh, bone or ſinew of the amazed Mother:
Conſume the ſhooes, and never hurt the feet,
Empty a Cask, and yet not periſh it, &c.
Methinks I heare when it begins to Thunder,
The voice that brings Swains up, and Caeſars under:
By that Tow'r tearing ſtroak I underſtand,
Th' undaunted ſtrength of the divine right hand;
When I behold the Lightning in the Skies,
Methinks I ſee th' Almighties glorious Eyes;
When I perceive it rain down timely ſhowers,
Methinks the Lord his Horn of Plenty pours;
When from the Cloud exceſſive water ſpins,
Methinks Heaven weeps for our unwept-for ſins.
THE END.
End of the text · Robert Dingley, Philosophical Historical and Theological Observations of Thunder (1658)