Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE PREFACE TO DIVINE SONGS AND MEDITACIONS, by ANNE COLLINS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE PREFACE TO DIVINE SONGS AND MEDITACIONS, by                    
First Line: Being through weakness to the house confin'd
Last Line: Will his and all their works for him defend.
Alternate Author Name(s): Collins, An
Subject(s): Activity; Evil; Grief; Reason; Exercise; Sorrow; Sadness; Intellect; Rationalism; Brain; Mind; Intellectuals


Being through weakness to the house confin'd,
My mentall powers seeming long to sleep,
Were summond up, by want of wakeing mind
Their wonted course of exercise to keep,
And not to waste themselves in slumber deep;
Though no work can bee so from error kept
But some against it boldly will except:

Yet sith it was my morning exercise
The fruit of intellectuals to vent,
In Songs or counterfets of Poesies,
And haveing therein found no small content,
To keep that course my thoughts are therefore bent
And rather former works to vindicate
Than any new concepcion to relate . . .

Now touching that I hasten to expresse
Concerning these, the offspring of my mind,
Who though they here appeare in homly dresse
And as they are my works, I do not find
But ranked with others, they may go behind,
Yet for theyr matter, I suppose they bee
Not worthlesse quite, whilst they with Truth agree.

Indeed I grant that sounder judgments may
(Directed by a greater Light) declare
The ground of Truth more in a Gospel-way,
But who time past with present will compare
Shall find more mysteries unfolded are,
So that they may who have right informacion
More plainly shew the path-way to Salvacion.

Yet this cannot prevayl to hinder me
From publishing those Truths I do intend,
As strong perfumes will not concealed be,
And who esteemes the favours of a Freind,
So little, as in silence let them end,
Nor will I therfore only keep in thought,
But tell what God still for my Soule hath wrought.

When Clouds of Melancholy over-cast
My heart, sustaining heavinesse therby,
But long that sad condicion would not last
For soon the Spring of Light would blessedly
Send forth a beam, for helps discovery,
Then dark discomforts would give place to joy,
Which not the World could give or quite destroy.

So sorrow serv'd but as springing raine
To ripen fruits, indowments of the minde,
Who thereby did abillitie attaine
To send forth flowers, of so rare a kinde,
Which wither not by force of Sun or Winde:
Retaining vertue in their operacions,
Which are the matter of those Meditacions.

From whence if evill matter be extracted
Tis only by a spider generacion,
Whose natures are of vennom so compacted,
As that their touch occasions depravacion
Though lighting in the fragrantest plantacion:
Let such conceale the evill hence they pluck
And not disgorg themselves of what they sucke.

So shall they not the humble sort offend
Who like the Bee, by natures secret act
Convert to sweetnesse, fit for some good end
That which they from small things of worth extract;
Wisely supplying every place that lackt,
By helping to discover what was meant
Where they perceive there is a good intent.

So trusting that the only Sov'rain Power
Which in this work alwaies assisted mee,
Will still remain its firme defensive Tower,
From spite of enemies the same to free
And make it usefu[l]l in some sort to bee,
That Rock I trust on whom I doe depend,
Will his and all their works for him defend.





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