|
| THE |
| PROGRESSE |
| OF THE SOVLE. |
|
| First Song. |
|
| I. |
|
| I sing the progresse of a deathlesse soule, |
| Whom Fate, which God made, but doth not controule, |
| Plac'd in most shapes; all times before the law |
| Yoak'd us, and when, and since, in this I sing. |
| And the great world t'his aged evening, |
| From infant morne, through manly noone I draw. |
| What the cold Chaldee, or silver Persian saw, |
| Greeke brasse, or Roman iron, 'is in this one; |
| A worke to outweare Seths pillars, brick and stone, |
| And (holy writ excepted) made to yeeld to none.
|
[CW: II.] |
|  |