Classic and Contemporary Poetry
S. STEPHEN, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT First Line: Blind foolish jews, ye stones yee throw Last Line: Yet he sole soveraigne is. Subject(s): Christianity; Clergy; Saints; Priests; Rabbis; Ministers; Bishops | ||||||||
BLIND foolish Jews, ye Stones yee throw Though rude as you, shall pretious grow, And sparkle in ye Martyrs Crowne, Whom yee exalt by beating downe, Or serve to pave his way On's Coronation Day. As ye Arabian Sweets are bruis'd To make them sweeter; so y'have use'd Our pretious patient Saint: see now What store of Odours from Him flow, Which in a cloud arise Perfuming all ye skies. What odoriferous Prayers from His beaten bruised Mouth doe come! How like an Incense Offring they To Gods owne Nostrills make their Way, Striving to pacifie The angry Dietie! For You He prayes, & louder beats Heavns Gate, then all your bloody threats And stones doe Him. But having sed His Prayers, he falls asleep; his Bed Indeed is hard, yet this The Bed of Honour is. And Honour sweeten's every bed, And gently doth repose ye Head Of Noble Hero's: Tis not all Your rampant cursing noise that shall Keep Steven from Sleeping on His hardy Bed of Stone. There sleeps his reverend Body. But His soaring Spirit to Heavn is got; Nor wears He onely in his Name A Crowne, but on his Head doth flame Felicities pure gemme, An Heavnly Diademe. He crowned is, & is with all The Crowne of that stout Troop, wch shall Upon their Heads wear ruby beames And grained Purple Diadems The crowne of those who give Their lives away to live. Receive my Spirit Lord Jesu cry'd The Noble Saint, & so he dy'd. O no, He then began to live A Life, wch Life could never give. Death is ye Art wherby Martyrs leave off to dy. He gan to live, & gan to prove His Sacred Ministry above. The Deacon gan to wait upon The Soveraigne Priests triumphant Throne; And by that Service, He Began a King to be: Jesus is King of Kings, & his Kingdome by Saints impeopled is, Who from his Crowne's reflected beams Doe all receive their Diadems; So they all reigne in blisse, Yet He sole Soveraigne is. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE DEMENTED PRIEST by JOHN BERRYMAN HORATIO ALGER (1834-1899) by MADELINE DEFREES ELEGIES FOR THE OCHER DEER ON THE WALLS AT LASCAUX by NORMAN DUBIE IN THE TIME OF FALSE MESSIAHS; CIRCA 1648 by NORMAN DUBIE THE GUARDIAN OF THE RED DISK (SPOKEN BY A CITIZEN OF MALTA - 1300) by EMMA LAZARUS DOMESDAY BOOK: FATHER WHIMSETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: REV. PERCY FERGUSON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THIS SIDE OF CALVIN by PHYLLIS MCGINLEY WHAT WAS LEFT OVER; FOR SUJATA BHATT by ELEANOR WILNER Γενεθλιακον by JOSEPH BEAUMONT Γενεθλιακον by JOSEPH BEAUMONT A CONCLUSORIE HUMNE TO THE SAME WEEK; & FOR MY FRIEND by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |
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