194 Religious Thought in Old English Verse

And therefore ye that are great kings,
Be wise whate'er befall;

Ye that are judges of the earth,

Be well instructed all.

Serve ye the Lord with fervent fear,
That He may you protect,
And lift your heart aloft with joy,
Yet trembling with respect.1

1 Psalm ii. 10. King James's Psalms, 1631.

CHAPTER VI

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

THE only verses written beyond all possibility of question by Lord Bacon are Certaine Psalmes written by him during a sickness in 1624, and dedicated 'to his very good friend,' George Herbert. 'Where divinity and poesy met, he could not,' he said, 'make better choice.' The religious musings of so great a man would have an interest of their own even if they were wholly devoid of all poetical value. But, in themselves, they by no means deserve the tone of disparagement in which they have sometimes been spoken of. The 104th Psalm, for instance, that noble hymn of Creation, is one that he paraphrases with much vigour. He seems to join in it from his heart :

Father and King of powers, both high and low,
Whose sounding fame all Creatures serve to blow;
My soul shall with the rest strike up Thy praise,
And carol of Thy works and wondrous ways.

As long as life doth last I hymns
will sing
With cheerful voice to the Eternal King:

As long as I have being, I will praise

The works of God and all His wondrous ways.
I know that He my words will not despise ;
Thanksgiving is to Him a sacrifice.1

Some particular expressions also in this Psalm are worthy of note. For example :—

:

Thence round about a silver veil doth fall
Of crystal light, mother of colours all.

1 The Poems of Lord Bacon, ed. by A. B. Grosart, 1870.

The earth:

The moon:

The sea:

hath no pillars but His sacred will.

so constant in inconstancy.

There do the stately ships plough up the floods.

He has given us a vivid imaginative picture in his paraphrase of the 137th Psalm :

Whenas we sat all sad and desolate,
By Babylon, upon the river's side,

Eased from the tasks, which in our captive state
We were enforcéd daily to abide,--

Our harps we had brought with us to the field
Some solace to our heavy souls to yield.

But soon we found we failed of our account :
For when our minds some freedom did obtain,
Straightways the memory of Sion's mount

Did cause afresh our wounds to bleed again ;
So that with present griefs and future fears
Our eyes burst forth into a stream of tears.
As for our harps, since sorrow stroke them dumb,
We hanged them on the willow-trees were near;
Yet did our cruel masters to us come,

Asking of us some Hebrew songs to hear.
Taunting us rather in our misery
Than much delighting in our melody.

Alas, said we, who can once form or frame
His grieved and oppressed heart to sing
The praises of Jehovah's glorious name
In banishment, under a foreign king ?
In Sion is His seat and dwelling-place ;

Thence doth He show the brightness of His face.
Jerusalem, where God His throne hath set,

Shall any hour absent thee from my mind?
Then let my right hand quite her skill forget,
Then let my voice and words no passage find;
Nay, if I do not Thee prefer in all

That in the compass of my thoughts can fall.

Although there is not the same certainty that the following short poem is by Lord Bacon, there seems to be a very high degree of probability that it is his :— The man of life upright, whose guiltless heart is free From all dishonest deeds and thoughts of vanity :

The man whose silent days in harmless joys are spent,
Whom hopes can not delude, nor fortune discontent;
That man needs neither tower nor armour for defence:
He only can behold with unaffrighted eyes

The horror of the deep, and terror of the skies;

Thus scorning all the care that fate or fortune brings,
He makes the heaven his book, his wisdom heavenly things;
Good thoughts his only friends, his wealth a well-spent age,
The earth his sober aim and quiet pilgrimage.1

The Princess Elizabeth, daughter of James I., who in 1613 married the Elector Palatine Frederic, and was grandmother to George I., gave Lord Harington some rather pretty verses composed by her, of which I quote a few:

1.

This is joy, this is true pleasure,

If we best things make our treasure,
And enjoy them at full leisure,
Evermore in richest measure.

II.

God is only excellent,—

Let up to Him our love be sent ;
Whose desires are set or bent
On ought else shall much repent.

IV.

All the vast world doth contain,
To content man's heart, are vain,
That still justly will complain,
And unsatisfied remain.

VI.

God most holy, high and great
Our delight doth make complete ;
When in us He takes his seat,
Only then we are replete.

VII.

Why should vain joys us transport?
Earthly pleasures are but short,
And are mingled in such sort,
Griefs are greater than the sport.

1 Verses made by Mr. Francis Bacon. Lord Bacon's Poems (Grosart)

XIX.

O my God, for Christ his sake
Quite from me this dulness take;
Cause me earth's love to forsake,
And of heaven my realm to make.

XXV.

What care I for lofty place,
If the Lord grant me His grace,
Shewing me His pleasant face,
And with joy I end my race.

XXVII.

O my soul, of heavenly birth,
Do thou scorn this basest earth,
Place not here thy joy and mirth
Where of bliss is greatest dearth.

XXVIII.

From below thy mind remove,
And affect the things above,
Set thy heart and fix thy love
Where thou truest joy shall prove.1

Sir John Harington, created knight by James I., son of the John Haryngton mentioned in the preceding chapters, from whose Nugae Antiquae the above verses are extracted, has included in the same work some of his own versions of the Psalms.

Sir John Beaumont (1583-1627), elder brother of Francis Beaumont the dramatist, succeeded to the family estates of his ancient and honourable family in 1605. He was made a baronet in 1626. His son who succeeded him fell on the King's side at the siege of Gloucester. He was himself a thorough royalist, a man in whose loyalty to the throne was 'that self-forgetting and beautiful devotion, which transfigured the meanest, and turned the Crown into an aureole." But he died before the civil troubles began, having spent most of his life at his pleasant country seat of Grace-Dieu in

1 In Sir John Harington's Nugae Antiquae, ii. 411.

2 Grosart.