The Deity Poem by Nathaniel Baxter

The Deity



There was one Soueraigne God, which we call Pan,
That cannot be defin'd by mortal man.
Some call him loua, for his existence;
Some Elohym, for his excellence;
Some call him Theos, for his burning light ;
Some call him Deus, for his fearfull might;
Some call him mightie Tetragrammaton,
Of letters fower in composition.
There is no region vnderneath the skie
But by fower letters write the Deitie.
For fower is a perfect number square,
And aequall sides in euerie part doth beare.
And God is that, which sometime Good we nam'd,
Before our English tongue was shorter fram'd:
Pan, in the Greeke, the shepheards do him call,
Which we do tearm the whole vniuersall:
All in himself, all one, all euerie where,
All in the center, all out, all in the spheare,
All seeing all, all comprehending all,
All blessed, all mightie, all aeternall;
Comprehended in no circumference,
Of no beginning, nor ending essence ;
Not capable of composition,
Qualitie, accident, diuision,
Passion, forme, or alteration ;
All permanent, without mutation;
Principall mouer, alvvaies in action,
Without wearinesse or intermission ;
Immortall, and without infirmitie,
Of everlasting splendent maiestie,
One in essence, not to be diuided,
Yet into Trinitie distinguished ;
Three in one essence, one essence in three,
A wonder, I confesse, too hard for mee ;
Yet diuine poets innumerable,
At theorems, and demonstrations,
Deliuer it to our contemplations.
The Father, Sonne, and Holy Ghost, these three
Are subsistent persons in the Deitie :
Abba, Ben, Ruach, blessed poets sing,
Are the true names of Pan, celestiall King.

Saturday, October 25, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: religious
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