N01310:58
Thoughts for the day of rain. In two essay's
Thoughts for the day of rain. In two essay's: I. The Gospel of the rainbow. In the meditations of piety, on the appearance of the bright clouds, with the bow of God upon them. II. The Saviour with his rainbow. And the covenant which God will remember to his people in the cloudy times that are passing over them. / By Cotton Mather., D.D. ; [Seven lines of quotations]
printed by B. Green, 1712
Title page typeset from the transcription.
The GOSPEL of the Rainbow. › Meditation 1: The First MEDITATION.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
Let a Touch of the Modern Poetry at last write a short Epitaph, on this Liquid Grave of the World.
When the most Great Creator of the Earth, Would drown that World, to which He first gave Birth; Commissioned Storms of Rain rush from on High, Through' the Wide Sluices of the clouded sky. But while without Effect those Waters fall, And only wash the Surface of the Ball, Heaven's Mighty Voice in dreadful Accents Spoke; The vast Abyss loud Peals of Thunder broke. Imprisoned Sea's impetuous Passage found, And rolled a Liquid Ruin o'er the Ground. The roots of Mountains from their Seats are torn, And floating Islands on high Pillows born. ⟨p. 14⟩Lightnings keen Flashes Swiftly down-ward fly, And rattling Thunder cracks the trembling sky. From frowning Heaven, each dreadful Plague is hurled; And Nature groaning quits the Deluged World.
WHen the most Great Creator of the Earth, Would drown that World, to which He first gave Birth; Commission'd Storms of Rain rush from on High, Thro' the Wide Sluces of the clouded sky. But while without Effect those Waters fall, And only wash the Surface of the Ball, Heav'ns Mighty Voice in dreadful Accents Spoke; The vast Abyss loud Peals of Thunder broke. Imprison'd Sea's impetuous Passage found, And roll'd a Liquid Ruine o'er the Ground. The roots of Mountains from their Seats are torn, And floating Islands on high Pillows born. ⟨p. 14⟩Lightnings keen Flashes Swiftly down-ward fly, And rattling Thunder cracks the trembling sky. From frowning Heav'n, each dreadful Plague is hurl'd; And Nature groaning quits the Delug'd World.
But, my most Honoured BLACKMORE, Do thou take this Theme into thy Masterly hand. Let thy Matchless, and Immortal, and Envied Pen, adorn so Stupendous a Subject. When thy Song, shall be Creation, Sing also the astonishing Funeral of so considerable a Globe in the Creation. The Inimitable Monuments of thy Erecting, are such as nothing but another Flood can damnify!