"Or else unto those Birds (aspiring) rare, / The Soul contemplative I may compare, / Of whom King David worthily attests, / That by the Holy Altar build their Nests: / So Meditation's said in holy Story, / To build her Nest about the Throne of Glory."
— Speed, Samuel (bap. 1633, d. 1679?)
The Hand-maid to the Hearts Soliloquie.
The Eagle casts her eye upon the Sun,
So Contemplation doth her courses run,
Fixing the minde upon no Object less
Than the bright Beams o'th' Sun of Righteousness.
Or else unto those Birds (aspiring) rare,
The Soul contemplative I may compare,
Of whom King David worthily attests,
That by the Holy Altar build their Nests:
So Meditation's said in holy Story,
To build her Nest about the Throne of Glory.
This Bee of Paradise all days and hours
Sucks Honey from the choicest Garden flowers.
By Contemplation I with God can talk;
In Mansions of Eternity can walk.
Then, O my Soul, what mak'st thou here below
Where nought but thorns do spring, and weeds do grow;
Where nothing thrives but loose unlawful Tares,
Watered with Tears, and nourished with Cares?
Then mount, my Soul, from this terrestrial Bubble,
This heap of Sin, and wilderness of Trouble:
Mount to the Land of Promise, where thy Wings
Shall Consorts finde of Angels, and of Kings.
Though present Habitation
Here is given,
Yet let thy Conversation
Be in Heaven.
Text from Prison-Pietie: or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and Most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London. (London: Printed by J[ames] C[ottrell], 1677). <Link to ESTC><Link to EEBO>