St. vii. line 1, in 1646 and 1670 'not a haire but ...'
St. ix. line 3, in 1648 a capital in 'All's.' G.
TO THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME, THE NAME OF IESVS:
A HYMN.[33]
In Vnitate Devs Est
Numisma Vrbani 6.
I sing the name which none can say1
But touch't with an interiour ray:
The name of our new peace; our good:
Our blisse: and supernaturall blood:
The name of all our liues and loues.5
Hearken, and help, ye holy doues!
The high-born brood of Day; you bright
Candidates of blissefull light,
The heirs elect of Loue, whose names belong
Vnto the euerlasting life of song;10
All ye wise sovles, who in the wealthy brest
Of this vnbounded name, build your warm nest.
Awake, my glory, Sovl (if such thou be,
And that fair word at all referr to thee),
Awake and sing,15
And be all wing;
Bring hither thy whole self; and let me see
What of thy parent Heavn yet speakes in thee.
O thou art poore
Of noble powres, I see,20
And full of nothing else but empty me:
Narrow, and low, and infinitely lesse
Then this great morning's mighty busynes.
One little world or two
(Alas) will neuer doe;25
We must haue store.
Goe, Sovl, out of thy self, and seek for more.
Goe and request
Great Natvre for the key of her huge chest
Of Heauns, the self-inuoluing sett of sphears30
(Which dull mortality more feeles then heares).
Then rouse the nest
Of nimble Art, and trauerse round
The aiery shop of soul-appeasing sound:
And beat a summons in the same35
All-soueraign name,
To warn each seuerall kind
And shape of sweetnes, be they such
As sigh with supple wind
Or answer artfull touch;40
That they conuene and come away
love To wait at the loue-crowned doores of this illustrious day.
Shall we dare this, my Soul? we'l doe't and bring
No other note for't, but the name we sing.
Wake lvte and harp, and euery sweet-lipp't thing45
That talkes with tunefull string;
Start into life, and leap with me
Into a hasty fitt-tun'd harmony.
Nor must you think it much
T' obey my bolder touch;50
I haue authority in Love's name to take you,
And to the worke of Loue this morning wake you.
Wake, in the name
Of Him Who neuer sleeps, all things that are,
Or, what's the same,55
Are musicall;
Answer my call
And come along;
Help me to meditate mine immortal song.
Come, ye soft ministers of sweet sad mirth,60
Bring all your houshold stuffe of Heaun on earth;
O you, my Soul's most certain wings,
Complaining pipes, and prattling strings,
Bring all the store