much more within My Lifes-bud blasted was with heate of bloud the Flow'r then needs must fade and Fruit decay Nay leaues and Branch haue perisht with the Bud and now the Truncke is turning into Clay Lord how shall I thus soild with Sinne for shame appeare before thy Glory I alas Am but Confusion euer out of frame and was at best ere fully fram'd I was The least of all my Sinnes will be at least a most seuere Accuser but the whole Equall to that which thou dost most detest with but a thought confounds my thoughtfull Soule O Christ thy Wounds renued by my Sinne still bleed to my Confusion for I faint At that which others still are strength'ned in so thy all-sauing bloud doth me but taint Sweete Christ yet be my Iesus though I be thus quite o'er-whelm'd with sins coÌ„founding floud And in thy bloud I shed still rince thou me vntill thine Ire be quenched in thy bloud Yea in thy Wounds as Ionas in the Whale saue me from drowning in thy doomes-profound Let Mercies Beames my filth of sinne exhale and it dispieese that it no more be found So shall I cast on Safeties Shore by thee Still praise thy Grace for so securing me The carefull Soule because of the momentany condition of transitory life desireth to wash away the filth of sin with the teares of continuall penitencie SIth on this moment of fraile Life depends th' eternall weale or woe of humane Breede And that no meanes can long deferre their ends let Teares still feede me Lord till Wormes I feede For Teares for Sin doth Sin through grace destroy so kill their Cause whereon who feeds shall liue Where they that sow in teares shall reape in ioy then let my Teares me dead in Sinne reuiue They were they foode ô Christ that couldst not sin and yet for others sinne still weptst then I That liue a life that 's quite o'erwhelm'd therein had need to weepe till drown'd in teares I dye Happy that Soule that on a Sea of Teares sailes in Faiths Ship by Hopes securest Cape Vnto the Port of Peace and with her beares Good-workes that make the Worker wracke escape This World 's but Sorrowes Sea whereon mankinde is tost with Stormes of Troubles that arise By Enuy Malice or Faâ—es wayward winde whiles Life to Death more swift then Swallow flies If in the way a Calme the Course prolongs it holds vs but to griefe resembling Ioy While Pleasure with her charming Syren-Songs o'erwhelme vs in the end in deep'st annoy Twixt Silla and Charibdâ—s Ioy and Griefes fraile life still floates and wrackes in Eyther oft Which equally to Death betrayeth Life but low estate lesse sinckes then that aloft Why should we then prize worldly things so much which haue no good but as they vs respect And lightly weigh those Treasures without which we haue no Goodnesse but are meere Defect Honor and Pow'r Health Beauty Strength and Wit are but as Smoake that comes from troubled fire The more it growes the lesse continues it and comes to nought whan â—t doth high'st aspire To be in Princes grace which all desires procures but Pride which blindes our Iudgements sight While like a siled Doue we Lord aspire till sou'raigne heate at height doth sinke vs quite Then t is in vaine to trust in Princes grace which pleasure or their profit may procure And when these faile they streight auert their Face but Lord thy Grace is euer free as sure Then let me wholy on thy Grace depend yet so as still I worke it to encrease So it with me shall worke too to the end and at the end with me shall rest in Peace To which deare Lord vouehsafe thy Grace may goe With my toil'd Soule that cannot rest but so A short Meditation of the breuitie of life with an Incitation to make good vse of the present time WOldst thou be spurr'd to run the way of truth then see how time doth run with thee away Youth comes on Childhood Man-hood comes on Youth on Man-hood Ages and Age at Death doth stay So Time ascends and descends with such haste vpon the Scale of Lifes-gradation That liu'd we but to mend our misses past yet death would cease our work ere halfe were done Time-past is gone in it we cannot mend Time-future is vncertaine then therein We are vnsure our ill bents to vnbend the Present-time is ours to cease to sinne Yet that Time ceaseth while we thinke thereon Then if we mend not now now Time is gone A short meditation of Mans Miserie WHat was I am I or what shall I be I was nought am nought and for ought I do Shall be farre worse then nought ô wretched me why was I borne for nought and worser too This makes me to deplore my Day of Birth sith I was borne to so hard exigent As all men doe that doe enioy the Earth yet so enioy it as th' are ne'er content We hold that Infant but a Prodigie that in his Birth doth not the World salute With note of Present-future misery for that 's his Birth-right cleare and absolute In Sinne Originall was I conceiu'd in actuall Sinne I liue and I may taste Eternall paine for that I first receiu'd with that I liue in now and that is past I in the Wombe was loathsome in the World a Sacke of all Corruption in the Graue A Prey of Vermine and may thence be hurl'd to Hell if what Sinne spoyles Grace doe not saue When I was nothing then was I without Hope to be sau'd or Feare condemn'd to be Now of the first I hope but more doe doubt and of the last stand still in ieopardie I was such as I could not then be damn'd but now am such as hardly can be sau'd For at the first I was in cleannesse fram'd but now by me its more then most deprau'd Erect deare Lord my pristrine Puritie correct my present Vices and direct My future steps direct them Sinne to flye and to attaine the Grace of thine Elect So shall I praise thy Name with them and say Blessed be HIM that so inspir'd my Clay That our Saluation comes from God LOrd thou hast said thou mad'st not death theÌ„ let that which thou mad'st not neuer signiorize O'er me that thou hast made but Watches set to keepe death from me when from Death I rise If thou be sory for my Death then who shall let thy Ioy in giuing life to me If thou wilt thou canst saue me I not so I can but dye vnlesse I liue by Thee For I can will but can performe no good nor yet will good without my Will thou moue In thy good-will then lies my liuelihood and yet thou bidst me labour for thy Loue But Lord I cannot if thou help me not that 's make me willing and worke with me too Nor can I moue a Man but I must blot without thee so my Pow'r's but to vndoe For I would sometimes that I can but then I know not
yet so much as smiled on me No force sith I my selfe the better know and see the World while me it doth not see Feare they her frowns that care but for her fawnes I feare nor care for neyther being white With Cares and Feares for my Graue open yawnes to swallow me to saue me from her spight Enough great Lord my Proheme is a Feast whereat my Muse doth surfet with sowre-sweetes Hard to receiue and harder to digest where loue and rashnesse Rime and Reason meetes But if they meet with Griefe that meets with thee I grieue with ioy for thou art fast and free A Dumpe or Swans-song ALl in a gloomy shade of Sicamour that did his leaues extend like Shields to beare The Beames of Phebus darted in his pow'r at those that vnderneath them shrowded were I me reposed while my Thoughts did range here there eu'ry wher wher thoghts might roame So by their change at last my latest change became their Subiect with my latest Home And when with Trauell they themselues had tyr'd I likewise tir'd with life that stirr'd them too Thus flasht I out with sacred fury fir'd and my thoughts Bottome thus did I vndoe Why long I longer here to liue in death for life if mortall dyeth all the while Be'ing but a puffe but of the weakest Breath yet blowes me Weakenesse into strong Exile As soone as borne was I condemn'd to dye since when Time hath but executed me Yet life prolongs in dying misery so yet I am as those that dying be To him that gaue me life a death I owe which sith I can I must and shall repay His Powr's as great to take as to bestow then will I pay him though I quite decay I dead in Sinne his onely Sonne he slew to please his Iustice and to make me liue Sith me he bought I le giue him then his due which had I haue much more then that I giue Death soone will rid me from this lifes annoyes Annoyes that nought can rid saue death from life And put me in possession of those Ioyes that are as farre from end as free from strife And wer 't not madnesse to repine that I had not had life when Eue did Adam wiue Then t is but all alike to liue and dye as t is Not to haue liu'd and not to liue Then life IS not that not immortall is for mortall life is but Deaths other name Nor is that Blisse that is not fearelesse Blisse nor glory that is subiect still to shame The Dayes of Heau'n are datelesse sith the Sunne that makes them such doth neither set nor rise But stands as it shall doth and still hath done fixt in the Noone-stead of ETERNITIES Here one 's the ruine of another Day while like a ne'er-suffized Graue the Night Doth bury both in silence yet doth prey vpon them both till both play least in sight Death is the dore of life so would I liue then through this dore to life I needes must goe For through this dore Death LIFE it selfe did driue then sith LIFE dide for life I must doe so Two onely had the priuiledge to wend another way to life that mortals were But t was in firy Charets to this end that Fire should flesh refine yer it came there There where all ioyes vnited are of force for force vnited stronger makes the same The spirit and flesh both rauisht to diuorce and melt their pow'rs in loues eternall flame What Lets shall let me then from Paradise Mountaines of Gold and Rockes of rarest stone Crossing my Way I trampling will dispise if thither Hope but goe with me alone This WORLD 's a Vale that ceaseles teares do spoile and make it so a Bog or lothsome Lake Then who but Swine that pleasure take in Soile will here if they can choose abiding make Heau'n is my Home the HIGH'ST my Father is his SONNE my Brother Angels are my Friends Then while from Them I am I am amisse and lightly misse the Meanes to so good Ends. My Body 's but the Prison of my Soule which straits her more the more that Prison's free Time 's but the Rocke that vp my Life doth rowle and Earth the Place where Heau'n spinnes it me Here must I fight till Death for endlesse Life The Chariot of my Triumph then is Death Then as I would be free from endlesse strife to mount this Chariot I must spend my Breath The ground whereon I tread's the ground of Grieâ—e so that each step doth grieue me for it is A Sanguine-field that beareth Hurts in chiefe crost with sinister-bends and All amisse Then here to bee amisse is to be borne in Dolors Field to eu'ry foule Disgrace O Death then help my Soules house to adorne and let thine Armes be mine for lifes are base Am I not durt and dust then maruell is 't if I but with a thought be that or this A shadow by some substance doth subsist but all my substance but a shadow is The Sunne doth rise and set the Moone doth hold a constant course in most vnconstant state The Earth now quick with heate then dead with cold doth shew their plight that It preambulate Then ô yee Saints whose Bellies being rife with Waters both of life and grace be yee Pure Aquaducts by life to bring me life from the Well-head that fill may you and mee The Graue though wide it gape dismayes me not sith t is the Gate of glory rest and peace And though therein my mortall Part must rot yet thence it springs with much more faire encrease If the last breath we call our Bodyes death then may we call the other Breathings deaths Sith Life and death doe come and goe with Breath we haue as many deaths as we haue breaths Yet twixt this life and that we death doe call this ods there is while life doth last we dye But when Death comes we die no more but shall by dying well liue well immortally O then looke how the Labourer for Night the Pilot for the Port and for the Inne The Poast doth long so doth my tired spright by death still long for Life and rest therein Death is my Hope than feare not I his knife Feare is his Sting but Hope hath puld it out The mortall'st Wounds immortall make my life then better dye in Hope then liue in Doubt If Death be painfull then is paine sustain'd before or at the Article of Death But not before for then but thought is pain'd and at the instant it 's but rest of breath So that in Death is rest without disease then Death be kinde and rest my life in thee While others that doe cast such summes as these these Cyphers summe decyph'ring thee and mee And Cyphers cast lifes Cyphers to and fro that I their number seene may multiply Take nought from Nought nought remaines so the summe of All is lesse then vanitie Cyphers not Numbers call I them because they runne sans number roundly
doâ— bestow a Wise-mans â—ee Which thâ—se wise Seers onely doe fore-see Sinfull Curiositie had rather be acquainted with the Diuell then with God or his Saints HAue any made a Cou'nant with blacke Hell and are Familiar with infernall Sprights They shall be sought to wheresoe'er they dwell for many Soules desire to see those sights But liues Elias most familiar with GOD and Heau'n where great ones most frequent He liues as in his firie Câ—ach he were for none comes neere so meere an Innocent Thus doth the Diuell Lord it o'er the Aire and those that most doe prize It while his slaues Are more sought to then Saints or Angels faire though such Fiends bideing be among the graues Then what so senselesse as the World to take Delight in Diu'ls and in Hell for their sake Againe of the same WEre Bacon and that Vandermast aliue Aire if liue they did where Men might draw but They with a mischieâ—e wold much more than thriue for they would smothred be with Mens repaire Some Bladuds would inuest them with their Robes nay Crowne them too to learne them but to flye That so they might but glide about the Globes to be admir'd for Iack-dawes qualitie So much Men singularitie affect that to be singular though but in Toyes They 'l freâ—ly giue what they doe most respect so much their inward Man loues outward Ioyes Nay Men to Hell will creep from out the Croude Ere they 'l be drowned in the Multitude That Persecutors of Truth are their owne Tormentors IF Vertues Sonnes be plagu'd with Vices Broode sith they by Nature still doe disagree It 's for the vicious plague and vertuous good which both shall here or else-where shortly see If our good life our Enemies encrease that bad encrease in that great good is drown'd Who fight against themselues but for our Peace and through our Weeds their Hearts and Soules do wound Our Sauiour through his Death did Death subdue to make vs conquer by enduring strife Then what though They to Death doe vs pursue when through our Death they dye to giue vs liâ—e But with such proofes none but such Saints are prou'd That of his Iudge in death was fear'd and lou'd The righteous in Ioy or Griefe Life or Death GOD keepes as his Treasure FEll Malice most of her owne Poison drinkes for them she plagues doe sippe but of the toppe But she of that which to the Bottome sinckes to worke in Her Perdition without Hope Impietie and Plagues are of an age being burnt not in the Hand but in the Heart For who against the good doe battaile wage shall perish through his pow'r that takes their part And if for vertue Men are made away GOD takes for sacrifice their sufferings But when by course of Nature they decay he then receiues them as Peace-offerings So that in life and death the righteous rest As th' Apple of his Eye as safe as blest That mens Deuotions towards God and Goodnesse are most mutable NOught in our Life endures so many Turnes as our Deuotion off on in and out Now cold as Yce and by and by It burnes scarse in one moode while we can turne about If good we heare perhaps we thinke thereon but be it ill ill past perhaps we minde Thus rowle we euer like a thriftlesse stone till Death vs stay by force or Course of kinde From Sinne to Sinne as Flies from sore to sore we still doe shift the best Men Men are still The worst are worse than Beasts to kill or store for they are leaue in good but fat in ill Then blest are they that neyther fat nor leaue Haue rowl'd to Rest but with the Golden-meane To my most honored and approued best Friend and Alye Sr. Fran Louell Knâ—ght God takes the Will for the Deede ALthough we doe not all the good we loue but still in loue desire to doe â—he same Nor leaue the Sinnes we hate but â—â—â—ing moue our Soule and Bodyes Pow'rs their forcâ— to tame The good wee doe GOD takes as done aright that we desire to doe He takes as done The Sinne we shunne He will with Grace requiâ—e and not impute the Sinne we seeke to shunne But good Desires produce no worser Deedes for GOD doth both together lightly giue Because He knowes a righteous Man must needes by Faith that workes by Loue for euer liue then to doe nought but onely in desire Is Loue that burnes but burnes like painted fire The Vertuous liue well for Vertues sake the Vicious for feare of Punishment THree things in Iudgement haue obserued bin to woâ—k with wicked ones shame griefe feare And yet without shame griefe or feare they sinne till Iudgement strict beginneth to appeare If Iudgement then haue force t'extort these three they haue no Iudgement that will not preuent This sore Extortion with an easie fee that is liue well if not then well repent But are these two performed with such ease Gods Yâ—ake is easie and his burden light And such as cannot well away with these can neyther liue well nor repent aright But if they cannot much lesse can they beare What Iudgement wil extort shame griefe feare That there is no peace to the Wicked THe Wickeds rest is like the raging Deepe whose smoothest Peace is rough intestine War With whose Alar'ms they often start in sleepe whose Heart-strings with such fretting Stops doe iarre Yet as the Sea seemes calme as other Brookes till Windes arise wherewith they rage as mad So oft the Wicked-man as smoothly lookes in prosperous state as he whom GOD doth glad And in this plight he Saint it can aswell at least in shew as can the holiest Saint Yea can for glory in Good-workes excell and Pietie in Word and Deed depaint But when Afflictions flawes beginne to blow He playes the Diuell both in Deed and Show That a vexed Conscience is the onely Hell on Earth THe Bodies rest doth most disease the Soule that is diseased with Sinnes sorest Sting For then the Thoughts about that Pricke doe roule and to the Soule an Hell of Horror bring The Minde then looking into Fancies Mirrour sees nothing there but Sinne that sits a-Broode On grimme Chimaeraes and sights full of horror so to confound the Minde or mad her mood For when Sinne onely fronts the Phantasie that Glasse reflects these horrid Formes by kinde Then when the body most alone doth lye these Monsters muster most about the Minde O! Plague of plagues when Sense nor Reas'n can spye A Reall Obiect from a Phantasie Phantasie a great Comforter or Tormenter GIue me Iobs Botches Naamans Leprosie nay giue me All that plagues the outward sense Rather then Terrors of the Phantasie crawling from out an Hell of Conscience And giue me all the Hels the Damn'd endure this Hell alone excepted I will be Able to make them Heau'ns in Conscience pure through Operations of the Phantasie Asleepe awake in Company alone past-vnderstanding Peace and Ioyes past Ioy In our Mindes Kingdome
Hope at thee doth graspe Fasten their fingers giue them strength to hold As Ancors sure in roughest Tempests would Kind Lord sole comfort hope of each poore wretch With Eyes conuerting Peter looke on me Those glittring Sunnes their beames of comfort stretch To cursed'st sinners if they contrite be Then let those sacred Sun-beames gild with grace My blacke dispairing Soule and rue her case The longing of the Soule to be with God SOule-searching Lord and sole selfe-searching God Let my poore Soule thy vnknowne sweetnesse know Thy staying Staffe sin-correcting Rod On me on me sweet Loue in loue bestow Strength of my weaknes my great weaknes strength guide thou my Goings stay my stumbling feete My stumbling feet establish Lord at length in pathes that are as pure as sure and sweet Eye of mine Eye let my dimme Eye behold thee Dim'd with the hellish mist of damn'd desires Ioy of my heart ô let my heart iâ—fold thee and take my Spirit that still to thee aspires O Beauties Beautie wound my heart with Loue Life of my life let my life liue in thee In thee I haue my being liue and moue Of me but thou then who should mouer be Celestiall Bridegroome kisse thy Spouse my Soule With kisses sweet of vnconceiued peace On thy transpierced palme her name enrowle With thy sinne-purging bloud my sinnes release Mellefluous Sweetnesse sweetning sweetest sweets Sweeten my Sowre sowre Leauen of offence Season my fleshes Lump with matter meete For Sacrifice sweete smelling to thy sense O Goodnesse let me Badnesse thee embrace With hold-fast armes of euer-lasting loue O Well of Life in this dry barren place Quench thou my thirst for thee which here I proue Be thou to me a plague preuenting Towre When plaguesâ—ngirt â—ngirt my Soule with fierce assault My forcelesse force then strengthen with thy power that if o'er-borne yet not through my Wils fault Doe ope the entries of my deafned Eares Deafe with the dinne of words breath'd by despair O thundring Voyce that Hel from Heauen heares Breake through the bars that let thy words repaire O let the deepes in dreadfull harmonie Their Billowes tune vnto that awfull voyce Let Heauen and Earth in ioynt conspiracie with it accord to drownd Sinnes hellish noyse Turn thou mine Eies with fearful Lightnings flash From Eye-bewitching Obiects of offence Deaden my flesh my bones to ponder dash That dead to Sinne may quicke in thee haue sense Encrease thy Streames lay ope the water-springs That Earths foundations proplesse may appeare My earthly thoughts all soild with earthly things Thy troubles streames through mercy straind will cleare O light vnseene enlightning all that see Lighten mine eyes that they may see thy light That light that with no darknesse can agree O light of lights present that to my sight Sauour of life giue new life to my smell That on the sent of thy diuine perfumes I may runne after thee through Heauen and Hell Through comfort or throgh care that life consumes O touch my sensuall ill-affected Taste With finger of thy sweet life-giuing Loue That it may proue the sweetnesse which thou hast Which may thy sweetnesse to my soule approue Giue me a Minde to minde thee Heart to loue thee Soule to adore thee Spirit to discerne thee A Reas'n that may in reason most approue thee And Reason most for that doth most concerne thee O liuely Sweet ô sweet Life-giuing Life O let my Loue in thy Loues life be bounded The life of loue portcullized from strife which liuely life with louely loue 's surrounded O life my life life without which I die O laborinth of life ô maze of loue Where shall I finde thee sweet loue when shall I my loue to loue and life to life remoue O where art thou thou great all-mouing mouer Can clouds encompasse thy vncompast Greatnes Thou endlesse life vnlimitable louer No no sweet loue then show to me thy sweetnes Be neere me in my heart my minde my mouth Neere in my hearing and each other sense Neere in mine age and neere me in my youth neere in mine end to end without offence Through ardent loue I pine away for thee For want of thee deare sweet my Soule is sad Then longd-for louely loue appeare to me And with thy glorious presence make me glad Thy sense-refreshing sent my Spirit reuiues To minde thee 's Nectar to my thirstie Soule Thy Inspiration Consolation giues Such consolations as all cares controule But yet ô yet euen as the chased Hart For water thirsts so thirsts my Soule for thee For thee sweet loue for my soules soule thou art Without which soule can my soule liuing be O when shall I deare Lord vnworthy I Appeare in thy pure Palace Christiline My mounting Spirit wing'd with Desire doth flye Aboue it selfe to see that Court of thine Ioy of my soule when when aye me ô when Shall I with eyes immortall see thy glory Alas I liue a dying life till then Till when my longing soule can be but sory O why turnst thou my Ioy my hearts desire Thy Sunne-ecclipsing glorious face from me Where art thou hid Earth Water Aire or Fire Cannot containe the smallest glimpse of thee Then where art hid ô changelesse fairest Faire For whom my rauisht soule in loue doth languish The smell of whom lifes ruines doth repaire Though life assailed be with mortall anguish But ah aye me I see I see thee not And that I cannot kils my louing heart Yet when I heare thy voyce I haue forgot What me annoid and ioy suppresseth smart But why ah why from me hid'st thou thy face Perhaps thou â—aist Man cannot liuing see it Bee 't so sweet Lord I faine would death embrace To see the same so be it ô so be it Here let me dye that I may see thee There There where my Soule so much desires to see it That life as death I hold that holds me here Then let me dye so be it ô so be it Faine would my Soule this fardle of my Flesh Lay downe at gastly Deaths vnfleshy feet That being consum'd I may resume afresh â—mmortall flesh for thy pure presence meet O Christ my Iesus take my spirit to thee My spirit aspiring clogg'd with fleshes waight It 's jaild too long it longs let loose to be And euery moment for release doth waite My Ioy draw thou my heart that ioyes in nought but in thy ioy sole ioy of blissefull hearts To thy true ioy whose griess such blisse hath bought which blisse my griefs with ioy to blisse conuerts Enter into me Sweetnesse make me sweet Sweet Ioy possesse me make me sad reioyce Eternall light shine on me make me meet To see and know and loue thee as my Choise The cause I loue not is I know thee not I know thee not in not perceiuing thee I not perceiue for darknesse light doth blot Light shines in darkenesse yet It cannot see Who sees thee knows who knows thee stil doth loue thee Who sees
nothing more then sinne Lord help me in this strange extremitie of crosse desires which in my Soule are found My Will is bound to Sinne but would be free then if it would how should my Will be bound Were it my Flesh alone desir'd to sinne my Soule resisting t' were not so amisse Such crosse desires in thy best Saints haue bin but in my Soule my Sinne conceiued is And yet shee 's barraine gauly and impure of emptinesse not emptie and thereby A soulelesse Soule so lifelesse doth endure yet liues in Death because she cannot dye Then empt mine empty Soule for Sinne doth fill with nought but vacuum her capatious thought For Sinne is nothing sith thou mad'st not Ill without whom nought was made then empt this nought For t is that Law though nought that still rebels against both grace and natures Gouernment This lawlesse Law my members still compels to bowe as Sinnes vnrighteous Rule is bent Lord I beleeue yet help mine vnbeliefe and well doe will yet better my desire Cure thou the Wound my Will receiu'd in chiefe through Adams Fall and make our Wils entire Giue me both Will and Pow'r to doe thy Will and let me neither haue to crosse the same For when I see my Will would thine fulfill yet doth it not I pine with griefe and shame I cannot will aright but right resist without thy grace preuent my crooked will And willing well without thy grace assist I cannot for my bloud my will fulfill So thy preuenting and assisting grace makes my Will worke for of my selfe I am So fraile by nature and so beastly base that my best thoghts are more then much too blame Then let thy Grace my wayward Will preuent and helpe me to performe it so preuented Yea make my thoughts and deedes most innocent else let me ioy in nought but them lamented Nay make my Heart deare Lord so apt to waile That it may weepe when I to weepe doe faile The Sinner desireth not to be as he is but as he ought to be TO be all nought is nought at all to be and to be sinfull still is to be nought Yet Sinners ARE though dead in sinne we see as Men ARE though they are not as thy ought Deliuer me deare Lord from being such such being take from me that sinfull is For better nothing be then be so much because so much is more then most amisse Then let me be not as I am but what I ought to Be or take me as I am Take me to Thee and then I will be that I ought to be thine owne in Deed and Name For then I am when I am wholy thine But I am not while I am Sinnes or Mine In respect of the breuitie and vncertaintie of mortall life the Sinner desires grace in time to prepare for Death MY stupid Soule now recollect thy pow'rs weigh in Iudgements Scales thy present state Thou in thy Iaile my Flesh but some few howres hast now to stay by nature neere her date My Pilgrimage is almost past ô then it thee behooues to looke with stedfast eyes Towards thy Countrey Home of Happy-men least ere thou looke in straying pathes thou dye Now faints my force my sense impaires my flesh like wither'd fruit now falleth with each breath Some Birds o'er-aged doe their youth refresh but Man growne Twâ—-childe is at doore of death The Young-man may dye quickely but the Olde can not liue long misse-haps may wracke the one But nought in Arte or Nature long can hold the other here for they are almost gone Then if green yeers should somtimes mind the graue the Gray must still that there are with a breath For Age to Death is but the Gally-slaue that on a moments fluxe whafts life to death To serue the World although I able were small cause haue I to will it sith it is The ground which nought but ranckest Ils doth beare and where men most esteemed are most amisse I long haue cultur'd this but flinty-field which yeelds but Crops of Cares Woes wrongs and spight Yeelding the more annoy the more they yeeld whose very Ioyes are Tares that pine the Spright Then it is time to change by heauenly Arte the thriftlesse course of so course Husbandry And with Remorse to furrow vp my Heart melting the Clods with teares that are too dry And so to sow Loues seedes that faire encrease to fat the Soule in vertue till shee melt In flames of Charitie till Faith doth cease to giue more taste of heauenly pleasures selt And sith my Spring is spent my Summer past and to the Fall of leafe my Tyme arriues Nay sith his frost Time on my Head hath cast I must prepare for cold that life depriues My negligence hath made sinnes Earth my Heart to yeeld but poysonous Weeds of thoughts impure Which doe but bane my Soule and get the start of Vertue in their growth by Customes pow'r Meane while my flesh with heat of youth bloud hath shrunke from cherishing their root yet lo The Marrow of my Bones doth yeeld them foode so thogh I shrink they through that compost grow And as one tost at Sea with Stormes and feares makes little way though much he be turmoild So he in vice that past hath many yeeres hath had long time but life as short as soild For Life is measur'd by the good we doe not dayes we spend sith some by many dayes Get many Deaths as some haue come vnto Eternall Life by short Life spent with praise What is a Soulelesse Body but a Clod and what 's the Soule without her cause and life But quicke to Sinne and dead to Grace and God Hell to it selfe selfe-Hell or Hell of strife He is the Way besides which all are wide the Truth against which all in errour dwell The Life without which all in death abide in whom to be is onely to be well O then deare Lord let me beginne to liue now in my dying though hard late it be Yet better late then neuer to reuiue me dead in sinne by mortifying me It 's hard I grant that after life's neere spent in mortall Sinne immortall life t' expect Yet Lord how euer late let me repent while Aire I breathe and doe it not reiect Yet Loue must cause remorse and hate of Sinne for true contrition which true life dorh giue Is caus'd by Loue sith we so bad haue beene t' a God so good that di'd to make vs liue Then loue my Soule for no ends but thine END By-purposes are purposelesse for ONE That knowes all Hearts Remorse doth but offend that is not for his Loue conceiu'd alone Then to be truely contrite hard it is sith it respects but Loue that Grace allures Whereof in but a scruple if we misse it 's but Attrition which lesse Grace procures O Death how sowre is thy rememberance to him whose Soule is swolne with sweetest Sinne And hath thereof a feeling I perchance haue so in shew but more
well And while I liue I le be the leading-Bell That shall thy lowdest Peales of prayses ring Which in the Clouds shall ne'er leaue ecchoing Or be the Trumpet of thy Fame to fill Th' Aetheriall Lofts with Straines more lofty still That when Times wings his Funerall flame consumes Thy Fame shall soare with faire vnsinged Plumes An Epitaph on the death of the right vertuous Lady Liegh sole Daughter of the same right Honourable Lord Elesmere Lord Chancellor of England which Lady deceased the third day of Aprill Anno Dom. 1612. HEre dead shee lies who while aliue she was was Graces Inne Wits Home and Vertues Rest Whose WORTH was of true Worthinesse a Masse yet well proportion'd for her humble Brest A Wise and Mother as it 's hard to say whose losse was great'st her childrens or her phoares To eyther wisely kinde to each a stay that made one loue the other loue and feare To her all-honour'd Sire she was as deare as she was vertuous which was as the bloud In his Hearts Center which to him is neare yet dearer held his flesh in one so good Who dide as liue she did in grace and peace more laden with good-deeds then idle-dayes Leauing her worth for worthinesse increase for Wiues vnborne to imitate and praise Who had at once two Husbands yet she liu'd of Wisely truth a constant Paragon One Husband heauenly was who hath depriu'd the Earthly of her for himselfe alone Yet yer he had her bought her with his Bloud But with her bought a World of Womanhood Then maugre Time Death these Lines tho weake May leade all Times all good of her to speake Here Muse now close the Paper-tombes of these Two vertuous Soules and Bodyes Aunt and Neece with this A good Name is better then a good Ointment and the day of death then the day that one is borne Eccles. 7.3 The Picture of an happy Man HOw blest is he though euer crost that can all Crosses Blessings make That findes himselfe ere he be lost and lose that found for Vertues sake Yea blest is he in life and death that feares not Death nor loues this Life That sets his Will his Wit beneath and hath continuall peace in strife That striueth but with fraile-Desire desiring nothing that is ill That rules his Soule by Reasons Squire and workes by Wisedomes Compasse still That nought obserues but what preserues his minde and body from offence That neyther Courts nor Seasons serues and learnes without experience That hath a Name as free from blot as Vertues Brow or as his life Is from the least suspect or spot although he liues without a Wife That doth in spight of all debate possesse his Soule in Patience And pray in loue for all that hate and hate but what doth giue Offence Whose Soule is like a Sea too still that rests though mou'd yet mou'd at least With loue and hate of good and ill to whaft the Minde the more to Rest. That singly doth and doubles not but is the same he seemes and is Still simply so and yet no Sot but yet not knowing ought amisse That neuer Sinne concealed keepes but shewes the same to God or moe Then euer for it sighes and weepes and ioyes in Soule for grieuing so That by himselfe doth others mete and of himselfe still meekely deemes That neuer sate in Scorners Seate but as himselfe the worst esteemes That loues his body for his Soule Soule for his Minde his Minde for God God for himselfe and doth controule CONTENT if It with him be odde That to his Soule his Sense subdues his Soule to Reas'n and Reas'n to Faith That Vice in Vertues shape eschewes and both by Wisedome rightly waigt'h That rests in action acting nought but what is good in deed and shew That seekes but God within his thought and thinkes but God to loue and know That all vnseene sees All like Him and makes good vse of what he sees That notes the tracts and trickes of Time and flees with th' one the other flees That liues too low for Enuies lookes and yet too high for loth'd Contempt Who makes his Friends Good-men and Bookes and nought without them doth attempt That liues as dying liuing yet in death for life he hath in hope As far from State as sinne and debt of happie life the meanes and scope That feares no frownes nor cares for fawnes of Fortunes fauorits or foes That neither checkes with Kings nor Pawnes and yet still winnes what Checkers lose That euer liues a light to All though oft obscured like the Sunne And though his Fortunes be but small yet Fortune doth not seeke nor shunne That neuer lookes but grace to finde nor seekes for knowledge to be knowne That makes a Kingdome of his Minde wherein with God he raignes alone This Man is great with little state Lord of the World Epitomiz'd Who with staid Front out-faceth Fate and being emptie is suffic'd Or is suffic'd with little sith at least He makes his Conscience a continuall Feast This Life is but Death THogh Fire by warmth cheers life great heat brings death though good Aire life detaines bad life defines Though Water stayes our thirst it stops our breath though fruitfull Earth doth feede the barren pines Too-much o'er-fils too-little feebles life Wealth wants not Cares Want wants all but Cares Solenesse brings sadnesse Company but strife and sodaine Ioyes doe kill as well as feares Meane mirth is rationall extreame is mad no good so good but here it 's mixt with ill Nay too much goodnesse is exceeding bad yea bad if blinde it be is true Good-will And saue the High'st our highest gaine is losse Then life 's but death where al things are so crosse True Wealth THat Grace that neyther wonders grieues nor ioyes at Fortunes vtmost seeking but to finde What Bounty still in action best imployes nor wailes the want that beggers not the Minde That neyther grieuing sighes nor ioying sings that shines most glorious in most gloomy dayes Pleas'd with the state her owne endeuour brings that droupes not with defame nor swels with praise That scornes Disdaine disdaining nought but vice and Greatnesse rates by Goodnesse doing nought But good for ill and that for auarice of goodnesse onely by her onely sought That Time and Wealth well spent doth not deplore This is that Wealth without which Wealth is poore An Angel-like Man HE which prouokt endures as borne to beare and lookes alike in greatest weale and woe That so loues good that ill he nought doth feare and ebbes in Minde when Fortunes most doe slow That bounds Desire with lesse than he enioyes for onely nothing's lesse then Nature needes That holds all Vertues deare all else but toyes and meekely scowres Prides rust from his bright deeds That 's better than hee seemes yet seemes the best but without scandall seekes to seeme the worst That quell'd with Crosses thinkes him highly blest and for the Blisse of all would dye accurst In
summe that would doe all that All should do For loue of All this Man 's an Angell too A sicke Mindes Potion for all in Tribulation in Body or for the sauing of their Soule THou that dost ioy or grieue beneath the waight of his deare Crosse who dide on 't for thy sake View and reuiew these Lines with more delight then Patients doe the Potions which they take How ere they sense displease they wholesome be so wholesome as they often whole doe make So may this Potion worke the like in thee My Muse desires to make it griefe expell And all shee seekes is but to take it well Yet this I doe as oft the sicke doe talke of Health not for they haue but would haue it So I exhort to Patience though I balke her Way and onely wish the same to hit Yet as a sicke Physitian soone may finde a Potion for anothers Passion fit So may a sicke Minde cure a sicker Minde No Mind more sicke then mine yet well I know What 's good for Mindes so ill and that I show The Soule that sins vnplagu'd wilde quickly growes as Trees vnprun'd and but sowre fruit produce The heau'nly Planter then no cost bestowes but it abandons as vnfit for vse Why weep'st thou then sad soule what thou endur'st a blessing is no beating for abuse Or if it be sith it thy selfe procur'st Thy patient bearing this thy Sourge or Crosse Doth make it score lesse nay thy Score doth crosse Regard not then thine anguish in the Rod but in thy Fathers Will what place thou hast If thou wilt share the pleasures of thy God then of his Cup thou must with pleasure taste The Oxe assign'd for slaughter well is fed and lies at ease while others labour fast And still are yokt tyr'd prickt and punished Not all that stroke are friends nor foes that strike but strokes that maime from eyther we mislike The Wounds a friend doth giue are sweeter farre than suger'dst Kisses of a fraudfull foe The first oft make the last more often marre for Surgions Bands doe pinch to solder so Who bindes the Mad or wakes the Lethargicke how ere he seemes thereby t' awake their woe Yet he to both's a friendly Empericke Seueritie is Mercy oftentimes And Mildnesse cruell that increaseth Crimes To weane vs from this World an vnkinde Nurse God onely good and wise annoints her Teates With Gall of troubles spights and what is worse and as a Mother well her Childe entreates But makes her Seruants vse it ill that so finding of all saue her but blowes and threates It may to her the much more willing goe So God permits that All should vs molest That we may flye to Him and loue him best The flatt'rings of the World the Flesh the Fiend are but the kisses of worst Enemies And though the Fiend to Heau'n seemes to ascend like Ioues owne Bird that nestles in the Skies Yet is he but a greedy Bird that towres to Heau'n while on the Earth he nearely pryes To watch his Prey whereon forthwith he poures For he but seemes in Vertue to excell And flyes to Heau'n to beare his Prey to Hell Out of close-Prison and much closer Chaines many doe trauell but their Iourneyes end An endlesse Kingdome is whose greatest Paines are endlesse Ioyes these sincke but to ascend Vnlike the Fiend that mounts to fall more low and ruine that on which he doth descend But low these stoupe to shunne an Ouer-throw To beare high Sailes in Tempests is to haue Our Keele turn'd vp with eu'ry Gust and Waue If Crosses heauie be ô yet at least they make the Soule as sober as discreet If we be fellowes of our Lords vnrest we shall be of his rest and comforts sweete He wounds but hâ—s are wounds but of a Friend that in no fortune once from vs will fleete And lanceth but â—o cure and make vs mend Iâ— is a Payne that 's free from all annoy To die with torment still to liue in ioy He that had seene iust Ioseph in his Chaynes in Sackcloth Mordocheus his Iybâ—t nie Susanna going to her mortall Paines would haue bewail'd their infortunitie But had he knowne that Ioseph should be rid from Giues to Rule â—nd Mardochs ieopardy Conclude in Honor as Sasannaes did He would haue though them blest in great mishap sith so great Comfort was the after-clap So much the Fiend shall tempt when thou dost doat as shall enforce â—hy minde to minde her mâ—sse If Christ we serue Affliction is our Coaâ—e his Crosse our Badge to make vs knowne for his His nakednesse how we should cloath vs shewes his Gall how we should feed on Agonies B'his hanging on the Crosse how to repose And by his Death wherein all paines were riâ—e How to esteeme the pleasures of this life Worlds weale's our woe and yet we will not see 't young Toby walkt securely in the Mire But at the Riuer when he washt his Feete a Fish was like to swallow him entire He that on paine of life must watch the Foe wakes best when he is neer'st Afflictions fire But on the Bed of ease he doth not so In this Worlds hell if ease be good for ought It 's Poësie yet too much makes it nought Besides the better minde the worse is tempted Pirats to charge the emptie Ship forbeare But richly laden and from feare exempted they charge it home and giue it cause of feare Euen so the Fiend while we are void of Grace le ts not our Voyage but our Helme doth steare But when we take in truest Goods apace With Stormes of troubles then he seekes to reaue Vs of our fraight and o'er Bourd vs to heaue Of Ioseph Beniamin was loued best in his Sacke therefore Iosephs Cup was found So doth the Cup Christ dranke of euer rest with those to whom his loue doth still abound On Beds of Roses lyes Lasciuiousnesse which Vertue hates sith she corrupts the sound But Vertue liues too oft in all distresse For she respects not Fortune nor disdaines To lie with those that often lye in Chaines When God had praised Iob the Fiend straight praid that he might proue him with Affliction And when the heau'nly Voyce of Christ had said This is my deare and wel-beloued Sonne He in the Desert was soone after tride They finde most Lets that most aright doe runne And they left Rubs that most doe runne aside But straight to runne dispight each spightfull Let Doth Glory gaine while Shame the rest doe get When holy Dauid did his People count a great Mortalitie his Coasts did scowre But when Augustus did this Sinne surmount taxing the World by his vsurped Pow'r He ne'er was with least Punishment annoid So Ionas fly'ing a Whale did him deuoure While Pagan-Passengers a Calme enioy'd But though the Whale did Ionas so enioy He swallow'd but to saue and not destroy And as a Scarre a Sonne takes in the Face in his Sires quarrell though the Face it marres Yet it
bee 't violent quicke or slow A Saint as Man may seare and faint in death As Christ did dying yer he yeelded Breath Let this Cup passe was Terrours proper voyce yet vtter'd by our Sauiours sacred Tongue Our flesh he tooke annoi'd did make that noise fore-feeling it should be with Torments stunge My God my God why hast forsaken me vnto our Flesh intirely did belong Then may true Martyrs in Death drouping be With sense of pain but God that gaue them strength To stand to him through him preuailes at length For t is not hard when Gods soft comforts cheere our Soule to suffer torments to endure But when such fauours are turn'd all to feare and in distresse of Minde to hold vs sure To God and for him all annoyes to beare that is a Miracle perform'd by Grace Past Natures best performance and is deere Vnto the Doner then who doth the same Goes straight to glory through Afflictions flameâ— For Works of Iustice we should rather doe than those of Grace now Iustice wils that we In Truths defence should dye with torment too though Grace to vs a stranger seeme to be Obedience farre excelleth Sacrifice the first is duty in the high'st degree The other in our Wils Deuotion lies Then courage in our Death is no true Signe Of life else-where without the Cause diuine For through Vaine-glory some in Death haue seem'd as brauely resolute as Saints haue bin Nay oft the first haue beene the better deem'd by outward-sight that seeth nought within Leaena being but a Curtezanâ— tyring her Tortures though she dide for sinne Spat out her Tongue that to accuse beganne And many more of like sure so haue dide Then by braue dy'ing plain Truth 's not iustifide But dye they how they can that dye for Truth they stoutly dye sith they dye willingly But much more they that dye in sportfull youth though Deaths ougliest face may daunt their eye When they behold him yet if they endure that feare and paine which after they must try They stoutly dye though saint be all their pow'r Nay more they doe sith they so little can Flesh is but mire the Minde doth make the Man But see what ends the Tyrants erst haue made that of Gods Saints made ceaselesse Butchery Nero the chiefe that first did them inuade in his owne bloud his murdring hands did dye And while he bled his last he crying said Foulely I liu'd and dye more filthily Thus for his paines in paining he was paide Domitian by his Seruants being slaine For doing like the like reward did gaine Fell Maximinus with his Sonnes was brought to selfe same issue Decius with his Frye Incurr'd the like Valerianus caught by him that swaid the Persian Monarchy Was cag'd in Iron more fast then Lyons are who in the end being flaid dide wretchedly But Dioclesian worst of all did fare For he fell mad â—o made himselfe away While fire from Heau'n his House did leuell lay So of the like in life and their Degrees Iâ— might count many dire and awfull deaths All dranke Gods vengeance Vials to the lees in their bloud o'erwhelm'd they lost their breaths For God vnstings such angry Waspes and Bees sith each their Stings in Saints too often sheathes God burnes his Rods when he hath paid his fees Yet Stings of spight in th' Head of Pow'r with wit Can sting the World to death if Heau'n permit But howsoe'r th' Almighty throwes his Rods into the fire when he his Ire doth cease Yet oft the scurged fall to greater ods with Goodnesse than before The Churches peace Makes her more loose then when shee 's bound to fight vncessantly with foes that her disease For they liue wrong that rest to much in Right Mettall though Siluer resting long vnscowr'd Will canker or with filth be quite obscur'd For ah this Witch the World with pleasing charmes so lullabies our Sense in soft delights That though we be vpon our guard in armes yet we are taken in our Appetites And made to serue the Diuell and our Flesh in strictest Bondage while their Parasits Sinne-soothing Pleasures doe our Sense refresh To serue them with the more alacritie So â—lee le ts Grace our Sense to mortifie A Parable Wee ' are like a Man chast by a raged Bull who in his flight into a Well doâ—h fall And in the fall by chance he lighteth full vpon a Tree that there growes in the Wall And resting there there sets his Soules delight but looking better on the place withall He spies two Mice one blacke the other White Who still the Roote of this his rest doe gnaw And more and more asunder it doe saw Then vnderneath he lookes and there espies a gaping Dragon threatning to deuoure him And at his feete foure striuing Serpents rise yet looking vp he spies what doth allure him And makes him deeme he is from dangers free a little Honie which he euer tryes Cleaues to a branch of that vntrusty Tree For which these dangers he neglects and still That Hony sicks yet ne'er can licke his fill The Morall The Bull is Death the World the Well the Tree our time of life the white Mowse and the blacke The Day and night the striuing Adders be the Elements that striue vs still to wracke The Diuell the Dragon and the Honie is our whitest Pleasures that are lin'd with blacke And blacke within for losse of Glories Blisse Who therefore would not deeme that man were mad That in such dreadfull dangers can be glad What comfort can we haue then in a place that 's by the Prince of darknesse gouerned Where eu'ry thing is in a cursed case and by Gods foes and good-mens peopled Where Paines be riâ—e extreame and infinite but Pleasures few and false fraile dull and dead Which at the best at least doe vexe the sp'rit Where Plentie's full of perill Want of woes And in a word where all that ill is flowes Then cast we off these pleasures that but cast a mist before our Eyes and mocke our Sense But let vs hugge those paines and hold them fast that bring eternall ioyes for recompence Now if this Potion worke not in sicke-mindes at point of death is their Intelligence Nay Death the pow'r of all their forces bindes In few Great things by greatest mindes are sought The small but seeke for shades the shels of Nought To attaine a quiet Life WHo would in quiet spend his life must shunne the Cause of strifes Effect And yet with Vice still liue in strife so Strife retaine and it reiect 1 Hold no Conceit 'gainst that Conceit the King maintaines vnlesse it be Against that Faith whose forme and waight with TRVTH well tride doth still agree 2 Finde neuer Fault but when the same concernes the Honor of the High'st Or else the Kings to heare whose blame is blame which oft to Death is nigh'st 3 No Wager lay for that but stirres the Losers heart to hate and ire Which oft enflameth Ciuill-warres
then themselues enthrone to ouer-sway the Paines that Flesh annoy Then is this Peace and War true Heau'n Hell Where Paine and Pleasure doe themselues excell A wounded Conscience who can beare SAlues Sores doe cure and Medicines Maladies Friendship Oppression Wâ—sed me poore Estate Fauour Restraint and Timâ— Captiuitiâ—s Good life Reproch and louing Manners Hate But these nor ought else that are â—â—st or best except the Highest grace hâ—uâ— pâ—w'r to cure A wounded spirit with Sadnesse stâ—â—l opprest but It doth Death out-liue and Hell oâ—â— dure Were our Meate Manna our Weâ—des Salomons Monarches our Friends and Eden our Free-hold Our Guardes Gâ—â—iaâ—s our Seatesâ— highst Thrones our Houses Siluer hung with Pearle and Gold All these and all what else can Sense delight Doe rather kill than cure a wounded Spirit Death makes Things appeare as they are ENuy and Anger haue some Wise-meâ— kil'd though in those Passions we hold no man wise As fauour and base flatt'ry Fooles haue spild for with them both we Fooles doe Nestorize But when these moodes are with the Parties dead then were they Fooles who wer so wise while-ere And Thâ—y most wise that Fooles were reckoned thus Death doth make Things as they are appeare Flatt'ry adornes Mens Fortunes not the Men and Enuy not their Persons but their Fames Doth seeke to wound so it appeareth then that Wise nor Fooles haue here their proper Names But in the Font of Death they doe receiue Their naked Names which their true Natures giue God and Conscience tels truely what we are and are not as we seeme WHat thou art aske thine Hart and it wil show or aske a Foe that Conscience makes to lie But aske thou noâ— Selfe-loue which cannot know noâ— aske a Friend which can no â—ault espie If we could see our selues then should we see that we are nothing lesse then what we seeme Yet some seeme farre worse than in Deed they be and therefore All this Some doe not esteeme For we know nothing wholy but in part and vnderstand but what we know by Sense We see the Face but cannot see the Heart then showes betray our best Intelligence This makes all wise men that such Secrets know To winne the World a Shadow with a Show That Truth being One and still the same is made by wicked mâ—n to countenance Falshood which is manifold and still vnlike WHen Peace Truth do iarre Peace is not peace then Peace in Truth is that we should ensue Now for this Truth what Warres and Iarres encrease these Times doe â—eele and After-times may rue Yet no Man 's so vniust that will auerre he fights for Falshood but for Truth and Right So iust some say is eu'ry vniust Warre thus Truth is made to countenance each Fight Who euer yet for Heresie hath dide but saith for Truth he dies and so beleeues Or what Sect saith not Truth is on their side so Truth is made a Diuell that deceiues But Truth is God vnmade who in the end Will damne them all that make him such a Fiend That we are naturally bent to Ill but supernaturally to Goodnesse TWixt Sinne and Grace I tost am to and fro as mine Affections please to bandy me From Grace to Sinne I flye but backe I goe and yet I goe as one that faine would flee Nature doth moue the Wings of my Desire to Sinne-wards nimbly but not so to Grace For then she limes them with my fleshes myre that I am forc'd to passe an heauy pace Yet still I stirre those Wings and seeke to breake faile fleshes Bands too strong for me too fraile Who though sometimes I faile of what I seeke yet seeke I what I finde and neuer faile For none seekes Grace that hath not Grace in hold Then Seekers find though oft lesse then they would Abuse is familiar with humane Flesh and Bloud MInding this World I muse at what I minde though It vnworthy be of Minde or Muse I muse that Men are to It so inclinde sith It mindes nought but how Men to abuse From high to low Abuse doth proudly raigne from which the Preist that leads all is not free The Holy hold the Holy in disdaine if with their state their states doe not agree Vertue or Vice are held or good or ill as in this World they thriue or ill or well For Vice is honor'd more then Vertue still if Vices Mannors Vertues doe excell If Manors good doe what good Maners ought That 's make men great great men are made of nought That it is farre better not Be then to be Ill. THe World the Wombe where all misdeeds are bred breedes in my little World such great offence That my Soule great with Sinne 's deliuered of Griefe that gaules my bleeding Conscience The Mid-wife Flesh that did the same produce giues it the Nurse curst Nature it to feede And fattens It with full-Breasts of Abuse so Griefe growes great with Natures grosse misdeeds O Nature Nurse of my Soules foule Disgrace ô World the Nurse of that Nurse grounds of grief Why doe you giue me being time and place sith you doe worse then kill me with reliefe For that reliâ—se that doth but nourish Sinne Makes our Case worse then if we ne'er had bin Sinne and Grace cannot dwell in one place IF Faith beleeu'd that Creede that Essence giues her then would she giue the Soule what that doth giue Faith 's made to know and doe that which relieues her for by her actiue knowledge she doth liue But oft the Soule though Faith be still her Ghest makes Sinne her Steward to prouide her Foode How then can Faith such banefull Bits digest which but contaminate her vitall Bloud Can Faith and Sinne if they be full in force dwell as if friends they were in one weake Heart No one will other from the same diuorce for Sou'raignes part with life ere Lordship part Then want of Faith with grosse Sin is supplide For Nature vacuum could ne'er abide In rainy-gloomy Weather THis Weather 's like my troubled Minde and Eyes the one being sad the other full of Teares And as Winde oft the often Showrings dryes so Sighes my Teares dry vp and kindle Cares Sighes please and paine the displeas'd painfull Heart they please in giuing vent to Griefes vp-pent And yet the Heart they ease they cause to smart so Griefes encrease as Sighes doe giue them vent But were my Minde thus sad but for my Crimes and mine Eyes turn'd to Teares for cause so deare Or did my Heart for that sith often times my Sighes my Teares my Sadnesse blessed were But t is sith Hope my Ship through Fates crosse-waue Now grates vpon the Grauell of my Graue Our Wits are vnable to please our Wils THis Life is but a Laborynth of Ils whose many Turnings so amaze our Mindes that out of Them our Wit no issue findes But what our Sense commands our Wit fulfils Yet Sense being tired with deceitfull Ioyes that fleete as soone as felt prouokes the
in Arts fairest Founts thy Feathers wash to flye to him that Heau'n and Earth adores Thy Raptures else are but such Rauishments as are reproachfull penall lewde and light But Raptures farre aboue the Elements doe shew thy Vertue in the fairest â—light O then thou great vnlimitable Muse that rests in motion in th'ETERNALS Breast Inspire my Muse with grace her pow'r to vse in nought but what to thee shall be addrest So shall that Spirit that made thy Dauid sing Make Dauies too a Begger like a King THE MVSES SACRIFICE A Confession of sinnes with petition for grace O Trinall Vnion God creating Gods O sole resistles all-effecting Pow'r When wilt attone twixt mee and thee the ods Till when eternall I account each how'r I am O Lord thy Creature re-created Made marr'd re-made by Loue by Sinne by Grace Shall Loue and Grace by Sinne be so defeated That Loue should lose her labor Grace her place Thou art the Salue and I the mortall Sore Yet with one touch thy vertue can reuiue me To heale this Sore a Speare thy heart did gore Kinde Pelican that thy Bloud might relieue me Thy Hands that form'd reform'd and me conform'd Were to a Crosse transfixed for my sake To help my hatefull hands that sinne inorm'd Then can those helping Hands their Cure forsake Thy Head was crown'd with Thorny Diadem To cure mine crown'd with Sinnes sweet-pricking Roses Thy body ah did bloud water streame To wash away Sinnes soile which mine encloses Thy Feete was crosse-wise nailed to a Crosse To heale mine swolne with running into vice On thy saire Skin whips did my Crimes engrosse So freedst thou me from them with bloudy price Then can such Loue now leaue the thing it lou'd Is Sinne so sowre to turne sweete Loue to Hate To dye for Sinne it thee alone behou'd And yet shall Sinne thy Deaths desert abate O God forbid sith Sinne and Death and Hell Thou on the Crosse didst conquer throgh thy death And by the pow'r thereof their pow'r didst quell To lowest deepes and it restrain'd beneath Besides thou saist but Truth what canst thou say A Gulph is set the two Extreames betweene Twixt Heauen and Hell no entercourses may By meanes thereof at any time be seene I am in Heauen for in thy glorious Wounds By Faith I hide me from Sinne Death and Hell If Sathan for my plague would breake his bounds Those Gulphes of grace to stay will him compell Then keep me in thy Wounds my soules sole heau'n From whence if out-cast I to Hell must fall Where out-cast-like of Hope shall be bereau'n If reft of Hope then reft of Help withall But help me Lord else hopelesse shall I be Thy help the hopefull neuer faild at need Then sith my hope of help alone 's in thee Let speedy help my ready hope succeed Vpon thine Hand thine hand hath writ my Name Then reade thy Hand and saue me by the same A Sinners acknowledgement of his Vilenesse and Mutabilitie SPare me deare Lord my daies as nothing be Consum'd in Sin then which is nothing worse Yet Sinne is nothing yet can well agree With nothing but thy vengeance and thy curse Yet is it that without which none can liue Sprong from our Proto-parents rootes of strife Linckt to that Curse that Life a crosse doth giue not crosse of Life but crosse in Booke of Life Then happy that that Life yet neuer had Life that still subiect is to such a crosse And haplesse I that liue in life so bad Where life is found with lifes eternall losse Ah what am I but slime durt dounge and dust Graue-monsteâ—s food Wormes pittance most impure Sprong froÌ„ the earth vnto earth that must How where or when I sure am most vnsure Abortiue Brat of damn'd Concupiscence Hels heire Heau'ns hate eternall food for Fire A Gulph of griefe and Sincke of foule offence Scum of vaine Pride and froth of damn'd Desire Copesmate of Beasts and to a Beast transform'd A Dungeon darke a loathsome Lumpe of Earth Fardle of filth prodigious foule deform'd Dishonours vassaile cursed childe of Wrath Patterne of Vice and Mould of Vanitie Made of the Molde that marres what ere it makes Errors misse-maze where lost is Veritie Or blinded so that still wrong course it takes A Bramble Bryer an vse-lesse barren Plant A Dogge a Hogge a Viper most vnkinde A Rocke of wracke dry Well of eu'ry Want A Weather-cocke more wau'ring then the winde A thing of naught a naughtie thing that marres What Goodnesse makes a damn'd incarnate Deuill Contentions Source Loues hate still causing iarres A banefull weede and Roote of eu'ry euill What shall I say A Map of miserie Confusions Chaos Frailties Spectacle The Worlds disease Times vgliâ—â—â— Prodigie Th' abuse of Men and Sh 〈…〉 â—btectacle Mortall and to a Bubble suteable Whose slesh as Flowres whose life as Houres consumes Of matter made more then most mutable Yet sure of certaine death of life presumes Fraile life which more it lasts the sooner worne The longer drawne the shorter is the date Hedg'd in with cares as with an Hedge of Thorne Whose piercing prickes the minde doe vulnerate If merry now anone with woe I weepe If lustie now forth-with am water-weake If now aliue anone am buried deepe That houre that glads the heart the heart doth breake One while I laugh another while I lowre Now ioy in Griefe and then in Ioy I grieue Now wake in Care then sleepe I straight secure Now I dispaire then Hope doth me relieue Now sigh for sinne then sinne so sigh in vaine Now minde I Heau'n then Earth excogitate Now fast and pray then feast and prate againe Now labours end then labours renouate Now am I loose then lose I libertie Now sound then sicke now vp then downe I fall Now am I safe and then in ieopardie Now ouerco 〈…〉 then put to the wall Now I discourse then mute againe I muse Now seek the World then search I for thy Waies Now am abus'd and then I doe abuse Now hate then loue now praise then straight dispraise Now This I long for by and by for That This now delights me then with that am cloid Now would haue this and then I wot not what And thus with This and That am still annoid To count the count-lesse vaine varieties Wherewith this mortall life surrounded is Or to recite our vaines in vanities I may as of the Starres the reck'ning misse All that this earthy Boowle on breast doth beare Is subiect most to most vnconstant state One moment makes as if they neuer were And eu'ry minute drawes them to their date The heate the cold the hunger thirst and all The miseries that life fraile life annoy Which swarming hide this Globe terrestriall No Tongue can tell thogh all their pow'rs employ Death seconds these if not the second Death Who with his fatall Fanne sweepes all away At All saith he whose nostrils bound their breath Thus carelesly at All with All
be all my Dayes Can I loue Life which Truth doth so dispraise A Ship a Shaft a Shuttle were too slow Or whatsoeuer else doth swiftly glide The flight of Time in this short life to show But It as lesse then Nothing must abide Then ah shall lesse then Nothing make me lose Thee Thing of Things that dost each Thing enclose And what a lesse then Nothing is this Life It 's worse then Nought that 's lesser then That Lâ—sse So fraught with Mischiefe Sorrow Sinne and Strife That It like Hell is Hold of Heauinesse For who so hath most ease and rest therein Are most diseas'd most oft with restlesse Sinne. No foote of Ground Earths dismall face containes That is not ouer-laid with treble Snares A Flies foote rests not on It without Paines Besides Deaths danger and a World of cares I speake but speak with griefe what I haue found On Earth then Earth of griefe is but the Ground For scarce is one Temptation ouer-past But in the Neck thereof another comes Like Circles that Stones cause in Waters cast Which chase each other till the last o'er-comes So and none otherwise Temptations striue Which by the spoile of others best shall thriue Nay so each other to succeede were ease More then temptation vseth to admit But while the first endures like swelling Seas Another riseth worse much worse then It Then in temptations Seas with Waues thus driu'n How hard is it t' attaine the Hau'n of Heau'n The treble Snares fore-mention'd three fell Foes Doe lay for me to catch me if they can The Flesh the Diuell and the World are Those Which three still watch to catch me carelesse Man The least of which hath skill exceeding great Then how should I poore Wren their drifts defeate On this side fights my Flesh the World on that The Diuell at my Backe and all as One Doe me assaile nay doe they care not what So I thereby may quite be ouer-throwne And thus like cunning Foes they compasse mee That I may haue no way away to flee I cannot from my Body flee because It is my Clogge and I am tide thereto Nor must I It vndoe for any cause For so vndone I doe my soule vndoe If I doe feede the same my foe I fat That will assault mee much the more for that Then must I needes my Body beare about Though faine I would forsake It knew I how And yet the same is alwayes running out Yet drawes me with 't as Colts doe draw the Plow It tires my Spirit that toiles to keepe it in From being tir'de in running out to sinne Besides th'iniurious World beleaguers me This that and eu'ry way with maine and might And through the Loope-holes of my Senses Hee With my weake Soule continually doth fight Which still thogh faintly fights to keepe out death And oft poore Soule quite shee is out of breath If at those Loopes the World repulse doth take Hee sets his Slaues to watch me in my way That they may through my slippings me o'er-take And so to wound my Fame with sharp Dispraise Or draw mee els before Authority Where I may know what t' is to slip awry But that 's a fauour done against his will Herein his malice mends me makes me watch My sinfull selfe from running into ill Lest that these Fiends should me in euill catch For Lord thou know'st they watch not for my good But how by mischiefe they may suck my bloud If thee I serue they call me Hypocrite If I doe not then Atheist am I nam'd If I giue Almes t is that beg praise I might So doe I good or euill I am blam'd Then this thrice wayward World by his good will Will haue me to be Nothing good nor ill The Diuell is a Spirit which is vnseene Then how should I auoid his mortall Blowes Whose weapons are as long as strong and keene And sendeth flaming Shafts from fiery Bowes The least of which to death my Soule will wound If thou confound them not ere they confound So then these three strong armed Enimies Me ceaselessely assaile to make me fall The Flesh suggesteth to me Luxuries The World obiecteth Sweetes the Diuell Gall And all as most intire conspire in this To make me ill to liue to die amisse The Flesh importunes me with daintie food With Sleepe Sloth Lust and carnall Liberty The World doth moue me to ambitious moode The Diuell to Malice Ire and Treacherie Thus all in seu'rall sort in one agree To pare my Crowne if not to conquer me Behold ô Lord with whom I liue perforce I dwell with Scorpions Vipers and the like Which kill by Nature without all remorce And with their stings they good and bad doe strike O Lord how long how long deare Lord shall I Endure this Death the Life of misery Atheists and Infidels doe neighbour me Beside these foes and with them still doe ioyne To worke my wracke for they still boring be Betwixt thy Spirit and mine them to vnioyne Among the Tents of Kedars thus I dwell Whose In-mates are as Serpent-wise as fell Example more then Precept makes vs good And is there none that doth good no not one Then ah what can liue with this Vipers Brood That is not brought to nought no not a Stone Then I being Flesh how can I hurt auoide By them by whom eu'n Stones are oft annoid In these sore Conflicts if I should retire Into my selfe I finde me fraught within With fleshly worldly diuellish-damn'd desire The three-fold Bastard of these Foes and Sinne. Who will with them conspire to conquer me Then in my selfe I least secure shall be My Heart 's more moueable then Motion is Vnconstant fugitiue vaine light lewd blinde Wandring each way and yet the way doth misle Yet still holds on that Course by course of kinde Agent and Patient t is in Sinne and Shame That both effects and suffers for the same And as a Mill doth grinde what it receiues Els grindes it selfe if nought be throwne thereon So doth the Heart grinde what the same conceiues Else grindes it selfe till it to nought be gone But it by Nature still conceiueth Sinne Then Sinne by Nature still is ground therein But if thy Grace Lord thou therein infuse It grindes the same like flow'r of finest Wheate To make sweet Bread vnleauened to vse When as the Soule doth grinde thee as her meate And as the heart doth grinde the Soule to feede With good or bad so our liues haps succeede Sometimes it grindes but griefes infus'd by Sinne And oft but Dusty thoughts and Earthy cares Thou when such Griefs it grindes pour'st Ioy therin And me for thee by griefes that Ioy prepares Then may I say when so the Mill doth runne I had beene if I had not beene vndone But for the most part it is euer cloid Like an hard Miâ—l-stone with the softest things As fleshly lusts and vaine Ioyes ouer-ioyde And with that harts-case which most torment brings So that my Heart
me still from all misse-fortunes and from so daine Death Which in this World that dangers ouer-fill is more then Fortune can to Man bequeath How many haue I seene the Warres to weare might haue seen hāg'd drown'd staru'd burnt torne How many poyson'd spill themselues with feare with Pox Plagues Pestilence how many worne The thousands blinde deafe dumbe lame leperous besides the Millions otherwise distrest In Minde and Body with griefes dolorous make me to see how much my State is blest For that which fell to any one of these might me befall be'ing euill as they be And that I haue more soundnesse ioy and ease it is to winne my loue thy loue to me If any mortall King should for one crime many condemne and saue but one or two And I of those condemnd should be the prime yet first of those two saued should be too How would my Heart be rauish'd with his Loue and how would all my Pow'rs striue him to serue Then no lesse Grace thy grace doth make me proue nay more much more thou dost my loue deserue For double thou deseru'st in treble kinde thou sau'dst my Soule and body doom'd to Death And from all franticke passions keep'st my Minde therefore I owe thee Minde Soule Body Breath For t is thy Grace we be not all consum'd but most of all my selfe that most doth sinne Sith on that Grace I haue to sinne presum'd yet still by grace seek'st me from sinne to win A Body thou hast giu'n me that doth lacke all that thou giu'st me to continue life And lest through want thereof It should to wrack with me those gifts are no lesse rich then rife All things thou mad'st for me and me for Thee for me Ground Graine Trees Fruit Mines Mettall bear Aire Fowle Seas Fish Fish Fowle for me produce most glorious Pearle and Plumes to weare For me Seas Ships Ships Sailes Sailes Winds endure to bring me Benefis from forraine Lands For me Flouds flow Wels spring Springs Water pure doe yeeld that I should yeeld to thy commands Sheepe Oxen Kine Goates Buckes and other Beasts yeeld Flesh Fleece Fels Milke Oile Hornes for me For me the Hound doth cry the Spaniell quests to teach me how to cry with hope to Thee The Hornes of Vnicornes that precious be are mine though they do weare them for my sake Plants Vertue haue not for themselues but me so things of eu'ry suite me Prime doe make What would I more there 's nought hath being got on or in Earth in Water or in Aire That eyther feedes or heales or sports me not so that this World doth nought but me repaire If I the Elementall World transcend to view the Heau'nly Orbes what Wonders There Sunne Moone and Stars I see who all attend but for my good for which they framed were For me alone they influence impart to these inferiour Bodies seruing mine For me doth Time himselfe in pieces part that I beyond Time might be wholy thine Nay let me passe the nine-fold Orbes of Heau'n and to thy sacred Mansion let me flee For whom had all thine Angels essence giu'n But for thy seruice and to waite on me To backe me and defend me from my Foes to hold me vp when ere I did decline To comfort me in Soule-afflicting Woes and to thy presence bring my Soule in fine Now if the Ends for which Things formed were be better then the Things for so they be Then better than the Angels Men appeare sith they it seemes for men were made by Thee And Men and Angels fell through onely Pride but for deare Mans Redemption thou didd'st die Yet for no one of th' Angels hast thou di'd which much augments mans hope and dignitie O then what Heart can once but thought-conceiue in what strict Tearmes I stand obleig'd to thee Sith me thou mad'st most Glory to receiue through mee as through the Eye Men glory see Wake wake thy selfe my Soule why sleep'st thou stil see who it is that hath thus done for whom Not for the Angels which obey his Will but for thee sinfull Soule his choisest Home Cast if thou canst a Number numberlesse and count his gifts with Stars or with Sea-sand The bottome gage of his Grace bottomlesse Or if thou canst not wonder-mazed stand Yet stand thou with and for Him while thou art that is as long as he himselfe exists That is while GOD hath but an humane Heart which is but while Eternitie consists As God is GOD he hath no Heart at all but as true Man he is he hath Mans Heart Then GOD and MAN can ne'er asunder fall though Men from GOD themselues too often part But GOD that hast Mans Heart and so hast mine sith I am Man although a sinfull one Still let thy Heart be mine and mine be thine that I may haue no Heart to grieue our owne I greatly doe desire with great desire to praise and loue thee GOD Mans harts repose But Praise and Loue in Mouth and Heart of mire through foulenes of that filth their grace do lose But sith all Creaetures thou hast made for mee for whatsoe'er is made I owe the same I le call on them with me to call on THEE to giue me grace to loue and praise thy Name Then ô yee all his Workes your voyces reare with man his master-piece that He would grant To me his Grace to sound his praises cleare and to supply in Loue my louings want To make my Mouth pure fit to hold his praise and make my Heart cleane meete to lodge his loue That Heart and mouth may so his glory raise while I his Grace in grace or glory proue That I in Grace and Glory may be knowne To liue but for that praise and loue alone A Meditation gratulatory for our redemption WHen I excogitate the great Good-turnes thou hast done for me ô extreamest Good With heate of Zeale my seathing Marrow burnes and flames of seruent Loue doe boile my bloud Especially for that when thou had'st form'd my Soule and body I deforming each Thou with thine own dierewrack hast me reform'd and with thy precious bloud becam'st my Leach Thou mightst for e'er haue banish'd me thy sight with the proud Angel and his cursed Crue For my fault was like his but more vnright then to the same a greater Plague was due And that thou hast not onely spar'd my Paine but therewithall bought endlesse blisse for me So that my Fall doth fall out to my gaine I am in straightest bonds oblieg'd to Thee And for thou mad'st me me to thee I owe sith thou redeem'd me much more owe I thee And would ô would I could my selfe bestovv to pay that More that 's lesse then due from me And so much more thou ought'st to be belou'd by how much greater were thy griefes and state And how much lesse then ought'st to be reprou'd whose life was more then most immaculate Who What and Wherefore dost thou suffer Lord and who
my Vocation most did moue but that that Iustifide me past the rest The gift of Glory still to Saints assign'd is great so great that none may greater be Yet to be iustified is in his kinde as great a gift and no lesse laudeth thee To make Men iust that are in sinfull case is more then to make iust Men glorious Sith greater ods there is twixt Sinn and Grace then is twixt Grace and Glory God and Vs. My Making and Redemption had but made m'excuse the lesse and my Damnation more Except my Soule thou hadst made iustly glad in iustifying me that sinned sore Whiles therefore on these things I meditate my Soule entranced lies as if she were No more my Senses or my bodies Mate but were transform'd to Admiration here What shall I render Lord ô how shall I remunerate ô that can ne'er be done Or how shall I but praise thee worthily but such praise doth my pow'r no lesse out-runne O that the Organs of my Soule were such as with thy praise they Heau'n and Earth might fill I would therein reioyce much more then much but Lord accept the freedome of my Will For could it make thee more then what thou art thogh more cannot be wisht much lesse conceiu'd I would performe a right Well-willers part and make thee what it could for Grace receiu'd Then let my Will be aided by thy Might That Will in Deed may praise thy Name aright Of Gods vnutterable Being with desire of the Soule to be swallowed vp with the loue of his Maiestie O Past-beginning and immortall Sp'rit eternall and incomprehensible Incircumscrib'd in Maiestie and Might seene all in All yet most insensible Immutable impassible most iust inscrutable in mercy most compleate From whom they came and vnto whom they must that doe beleeue thou art as good as great Who by thy ne'er-too-much applauded Word hast framed whatsoe'er created is One blessed TRINITIE in true accord of perfect Vnitie and boundlesse blisse If that great Patriarcke Father of the Iust who albeit thou deign'dst to call thy Friend Yet in respect He Ashes was and Dust did feare to speake to Thee that Eare did lend Nay if the highest Orders of those Sprights that in thy presence burne through loue of thee Dare not vpon thine Essence fixe their sights lest they through glory should confounded be If these so pure so deare so holy Ones so fearefull are to speake or looke on thee Who albeit they sit themselues on Thrones yet in thy sight through loue so awfull be How shall a Shorelesse Sea of Misery a Sincke of Sinne a Sacke of filthiest dung All which ah woe therefore deare Lord am I once dare to thee to stirre or Eye or Tongue But sith sweet Lord I can no way obtaine that awfull reu'rence which is due to thee Vnlesse mine Eyes still fixt on thee remaine and made amazed with thy Maiestie Vouchsafe me leaue dread God vouchsafe me leaue to lift mine Eyes vnto thy Throne of Grace O let thy brightnesse mine Eyes splendor giue and blinde them not that long to see thy Face I see dread Lord thou onely thou art Hee that dost transcend our vnderstandings reach And yet by vnderstanding well I see they see thee best to whom thy beames doe stretch Then ô most bright faire wise kinde liberall most stable simple subtile gracious Secret yet knowne vnscene yet seeing All vnmou'd yet mouing in rest making vs Whom Latitudes dilate nor Bounds restraine Varietie doth change nor Passions moue Rest makes not idle nor Worke puts to paine who art not hurt by Hate nor holp by Loue. From whom Obliuion nothing can detract to whom Remembrance can as little adde Who art Dilated most yet most Compact not grieu'd in Sorrow nor in Solace glad To whom there 's nothing past much lesse to come sith Time and Place still present be with thee Of all this All thou art the totall Summe beyond which nothing is much lesse can be For th' art in all things yet art not included but yet in all things art thou by sufficing Thou art without all yet art not excluded but without all things thou art by comprising Th' art vnder All yet subiect vnto none but vnder All that All might rest on thee And farre aboue All yet not proud thereon but All aboue that All might gouern'd be Perfect in All in none deficient Great without bounds Good without compare Present in each Place yet in no Place pent yet whole in All and parts in All that are In Pow'r and Wisedome most-most infinite in Counsaile wonderfull in Iudgement iust Secret in thoughts in word and Promise right glorious in Deedes which glorifie our Dust Past all extent thy Loue doth farre extend whose Mercie 's more then most indefinite Thy Patience more than Pow'r can comprehend because it is no lesse then is thy Might What shall I say great-good good-great-great Lord I feare in these my Words I doe offend To seeme to circumscribe thee in a Word that art without all measure meane or end Thou art ô sacred Sp'rits Angelicall that haue fruition of Him face to face Lend me a Name by which I Him may call and may expresse some measure of his Grace Thou art too great for GREATNES ne'er so GREAT and far too good for GOODNES e'er so GOOD Who were it possible art more compleate in GOODNESSE then thine owne Trin-vnion-hood Yet thou thou nameles Good who thogh thus great dost bid vs seeke thee for who seeketh findes Who though not to be seene vpon thy Seate yet sitt'st thou seene in Eyes of humble Mindes Thou thou art He whom to forsake is death and for whom life to leaue is life alone In whom to breathe is to breathe blessed Breath and for whom to contend is Vnion No man fosakes thee but the forlorne Foole and no one seekes thee but whom thou dost seeke Nor none can find thee but whom thou dost schoole thou school'st none but whom thy Lessons like What should I say of thee or how shall I thy Goodnesse praise how shall I celebrate The glory of thy back parts Maiestie though ne'er so much thou it extenuate I le say as those whom thou taugh'st what to say thou measurest the Waters with thine Hand Vpon thy Palme thou dost the Heau'ns weigh and on thy Finger all the Earth doth stand Thou art that Ancient ancienter then Dayes whose Throne is like a bright ay-burning Flame The Wheeles wherof like Fire that Sparks doth raise vpon whose Thigh is writ a glorious Name Thy Body like a beaming Chrisolite thy Face like Lightning thine Eyes Lampes of Fire Thine Armes Feete like Brasse all burnisht bright thy Voyce like Thunder but It soundeth high'r A fiery Streame still floweth from thy Throne a thousand thousand minister to thee Ten thousand thousand waite on thee alone and Millions by the Thousands ready be Who with a Beck nay lesse but with a Thought rul'st Heau'n and Earth according to thy Will
O let her be repos'd none outherwise then as they fashion her To harbor Thee that 's make her well dispos'd els let her rest be restlesse euer there My Sonne saith thou deare Lord giue me thy heart ô small request my Heart Lord what is it But one poore bit of wormes-meate can no Part of me delight thee but so vile a bit Why thou didst wholy giue thy selfe to me shall I returne thee then but that alone O t is sweet Sauiour most vnworthy Thee for which thou know'st it's meekly wo-begon Yet gladly would I giue it but it is so small vncleane vnquiet and accurst That I doe feare to giue it so amisse sith of all gifts it 's worser than the worst Yet take it Lord of Loue it is thine owne how e'er I haue abus'd it make it such As thou wouldst haue it let it still be knowne fit for thy Stampe vpon thy Trials Touch. O glorious King what grace is 't to our Hearts to be accepted and desir'd of thee Then take my Heart yea all mine other parts for they are safe in thee but lost in me And is this all thy gaine ô kindest Lord and is this all our gift one wretched Heart And for the same dost thou thy selfe afford then take it to thee Lord through ioy or smart For nothing can I giue thee but the same augments my gaine and glory endlesly Then take it wholy set me all on flame to melt me into thee by Charitie For were my Heart as great as is the Heau'n that all includes and that past price it were It should to thee desiring it be giu'n sith I haue thee for it who hast no Peere Then World be silent call it not againe Flesh be as still permit it still to goe And Diuell striue not for it is in vaine my God will haue it then it shall be so Vade vade for all you cannot fill my Heart my God alone can doe it and He must Haue it to fill then from me all depart that seeke to fill it but with winde or dust And sole Sufficer chaine it still to Thee with Adamantine Linckes of endlesse Loue That through those Straites which thou hast past for me it may be drawne to thee if slow it moue Let it attend thee to the Iudgement-Hall where thou wast doom'd to death and to the Hill Whereon thou suffer'dst let it taste thy Gall and on thy Crosse let it be fixed still That be'ing with thee thus plagu'd disgrac'd slaine It may with thee be rais'd and crown'd and raigne A soueraigne Salue against Sinne and Despaire out of S. Augustine DEare Lord when sinfull thoughts doe me assaile to thy deare Wounds then let me hye with speed When burning lust against my thoughts preuaile quench it by minding me how long they bleede In all Extreames I finde no Meane so good as thy wide Wounds to keepe my Soule still whole They cannot dye that drown'd are in thy bloud for that is Aqua vitae to the Soule Thy Death is my desert then doe I not lacke merits sith thy Death destroyes my Sinne Thy Mercy is my merit and my Lot is glories Crowne through my firme hope therein For if thy grace be great then is it cleare my glory shall be great and the more pow'r Thou hast to saue the lesse I ruine feare for Grace abounding makes Loues hope secure Yet I acknowledge mine iniquities and Conscience with her thousand Witnesses Accuse me of extreame impieties yet will I hope of mercy ne'erthelesse For where Sinne hath abounded there hath grace abounded more so loue enflaming in The grieu'd delinquent who doth enterlace sweete teares of Ioy with bitter Teares for Sinne. For who dispaires God vtterly denyes deny his Attributes himselfe deny His Iustice we prouoke his mercies rise but from him selfe who is selfe Clemencie Then let my thoughts still murmure while they will and aske why such a Sinner grace should seeke Yet in firme hope I will continue still sith he hath promised that cannot breake Who can doe what he will and he will doe what he hath sworne which is he will make whole The broken Heart for sinne and grace it too yea help contrition in the willing Soule My Sinnes though great then me no whit dismay when his deare Death I minde for all my Crimes Can ne'er o'er-match his Mercies if I pray for grace to hope in his sure help betimes His Thorny Crowne and Naylâ—s that him transpierc'd assures my hope that He and I are One Which haue his Iudgemeuts gainst my sinnes reuerst if I but grieue for what I haue misdone Longius hath clear'd the sad coast to his Heart with his fell Speare that kinde to me made way There rest I now in Ioy and ioyfull smart of safety sure while there in hope I stay Vpon the Crosse he doth his Armes extend t' embrace the Contrite then betweene those armes Deuoutly will I throw me till mine end so safe I shall be there from foes and harmes He bow'd his Head before Death brake his Heart to kisse his Louers with the kisse of Peace Then still I le kisse him so shall I depart in peace to him that is my Sinnes release Sweet Christ embrace me then and kisse me till I dye to liue to clip and kisse thee still The crazed Soule being almost in dispaire desireth Grace to hope in Gods mercy LOrd in thy Loue let me be none of them that loue but in a Calme a time beleeue But when a Storme ariseth doe blaspheme and with infernall S'prits thy Sp'rit doe grieue Thus what I need I craue but what I feare thou know'st deare Lord I feare I am too bold To seeke thy loue because I doe appeare no correspondence with thy loue to hold For he that merits hate Lord how can he straight looke for loue who hath shame deseru'd Seeke for immortall glory or to be from shame and paine which he deserues preseru'd He moueth but his Iudge to iustest wrath that being faulty lookes he him should cleare Without meete satisfaction for the scath which he hath done all these my hopes doe feare For he that is to shame and death condemn'd small reason hath to looke for high'st respect If but his death by grace might be redeem'd in sense it should be all he could expect But why ô why doe I now call to minde what I haue done to make my feares more rife Death I deserue yet seeke I life to finde that liue but to offend the Lord of life Can I still vexe my Iudge yet looke for grace and still prouoke my King yet seeke his loue Nay still but buffet my sweete Iesus face and yet expect he should my Iesus proue Alas how should he much lesse how can I such fauour seeke that so his Fauour wrongs Can wrong expect such right in equitie ô no for vengeance to the same belongs Vengeance belongs to wrongs so great so plaine as so to wrong a MAIESTIE so
what I can or would vnlesse Thou make me see beyond my Natures ken what I should doe and it in deede expresse And if I should haue with my Pow'r and Will Knowledge to guide me yet if that be mine Without thy Wisedome It will wander still for all that tread true Steps must tread in thine Then ô deare Lord doe all for me yet so As I may rest with thee and with thee goe A serious Meditation of the last Iudgement worthy to be often minded and repeated DRead Lord by whom all Soules are sentenced when I bethinke me of that dreadfull Day Wherein thou com'st to iudge the Quicke and Dead I faint as falling quite with Feare away When all this All shall be reuerst and made a Chaos suncke in all-deuouring Flames For Vengeance shall the Vniuerse inuade and change her Fabrickes though they keepe their Names A chill-cold Bloud still flowing from Dismay fleets throgh my veines when throgh my brains doth glide But eu'n the naked thought of that blacke Day wherein all Flesh shall be most strictly tride When Christ vpon a Throne of Sunnes and Starres reflecting Beames against each other so As Glory with her selfe shall seeme at Warres shall doome all Flesh to endlesse weale or woe For he shall shake the Sanctuaries of Heau'n and with the Shocke appeare with flames of fire And Millions of his Angels to make eu'n with good and bad in fauour or in ire Aray'd with all Eye-blinding Maiestie infernall Angels his dread Throne beneath Wayting with ougly Formes and hedious Cry to execute his Doome of second Death Where Hell still gapeth greedy to receiue condemned Caitifes into quenchlesse fire Without light flaming onely but to grieue and grieue but to torment not life expire All on a floud of Fire shall sinking floate to clense them from corruption n'erthelesse The most corrupt though scowr'd without the Boate of Diuine safety sincke in deep'st distresse As high as Water in the Floud did rise so high nay higher shall this Fire ascend For it shall scowre the Planets and the Skies for new must Heau'n and Earth be in the end Riuers shall paâ—tch Founts faile and Mountaines fade not that their proper substances shall cease But all the Vniuerse shall then be made most pure to last eternally in peace The Sea shall boile and all her scaly Hoast therein shall seath and floate vpon her froth The Earth vnto this Sodde shall be the Roast and Skie and Aire shall baste and burne them both Then shall the Heau'ns bright Studs the golden Stars drop from their Spheares and showre downe thicke as Haile With flames inuolu'd like firie Meteors for then shall fire gainst Heau'n and Earth preuaile The Sunne and Moone to Bloud ô wonder growne boyling and broiling twixt sulphurious Wings Shal'through the glowing aire come whizzing down like to a fire-wing'd Ball that flying sings The names of Heau'n and Earth shall yet abide after their Conflagration but they shall Be chang'd in Qualities and purifide for both shall be much more Celestiall For loe the Iudge shall come with flames of fire in Chariots like a Whirlewinde and shall burne On eu'ry side till all things doe retire into themselues and clense them in the turne Our Sinnes haue so the Elements defil'd that they with Fire must needes refined be Nay more our sins the Heau'ns themselues haue soild then melt they must from soile to set them free Sinne all things subiect made to vanitie then must they be dissolu'd sith in that veyne They vnrefin'd that 's most vnpure doe lye that so they may their first pure plight obteine For if the Heau'ns sinne soiled must not stand much lesse must Man whom filth doth ouer-flow Both must be purg'd before the Iudgement and immortall made to come to Iudgement so The Subiects of the High'st are Saints at least if so then Men vnsanctifide are none Then must a Man in shew in deede a Beast be made a perfect Man ere he be one The Citizens of Heau'n are like the Place as pure as pretious for what enters here Must be as full of Glory as of Grace else downe it must with shame another where Then in this life how ought we minde our ends sith on this life that 's counted but a spanne Eternitie of weale or wee depends which ends the Race that formerly we ranne One Age doth goe another comes and both Time of their time at vnawares depriues Man 's but a Shade a Vapor or a Moth that straight consumes the Time wherein he liues Too like a Torch whose light and lasting both answeres his Substance and the long'st can last But while the last drop of his moisture doth the least sparke of his glory ouercast Flesh is but dust made durt with bloud transfus'd which with a fillop or lesse force is spoil'd And in the Elements be'ing eft diffus'd lies there like something next to nothing soil'd The World like Ice is slippry brittle cold and apt to melt and quickly shift his Formes They stand still falling whom he doth vphold and who goes carelesse curelesse he enormes What ere it holds is past and that 's past cure or Present and that momentarie is Or else it is to come and that 's vnsure then all it holds are nought but falacies Yet here ô griefe fond Man seekes sure repose eu'n here where Nothing rests but in vnrest Where most men stand by others ouerthrowes and where the worst in life in state are best Where Pleasure paine fore-runs where life 's the brooke that glides into Lifes Sea all-swallowing DEATH Sweete Streames to bitter where Hels mortall hooke lies hid to hold or draw vs vnderneath Like Herods glory that 's deuour'd of Wormes our constantest companions in the end Wher all the smoothest Calmes proue roughest storms and all in all to wracke vnwares doe bend Where Princes Palaces the prid of Cost are but rude Earth which skill vnperfect formes Their Gold but worst Earths Marrow at the most and all their daintiest Silkes but doung of Wormes Riches but Runnawayes Fauours but lyes good words meere winde that lightly comes goes Where Generation to Corruption hyes and all is but a dreame of nought but showes Such as the end is such must be the meane that tends thereto Corruption is our end Then all that leades thereto is most vncleane so in vncleannesse rise we and descend This makes the Heau'ns so oft to drowne in Teares the Earth defil'd by our vncleannesse and So drown'd as dead she beares but dearest yeeres or Eares that are as deare as is the Land So with remorse reuenge to execute so stroke and strike at once to make vs feele Our dissolution sith so dissolute in loue and ire that stayes and makes to reele While our Lifes Twine vpon the heau'nly Spheares is reel'd vp straite Time whose turnes they cause Doth all o'erturne so Water all appeares which Time to cast downe quickly still vp-drawes Time steales away as he would giue
dye for Death came by his Fall Then cannot that high Pow'r That fashion'd him of nought and gaue him Breath make him re-made eternally endure The Wonders which he workes continually are not admir'd sith they familiar be For Admiration's dull'd by frequencie else should we wonder at what still we see The Face of mankinde wer 't not vniforme men could not be from beasts discern'd and showne And yet had All in all respects one Forme One from another hardly could be knowne Thus Likenesse with great Difference rests we see in one selfe Thing which for such common are We ne'er admire them but we muse when we see but two Faces like for that is rare And at the Load-stone we doe wonder lesse that naile by naile doth many nailes vphold By touching but the first yet sith it is so common we admire not as we should I might be endlesse in recounting such most strange Effects whereof no Cause is knowne Then were it madnesse not to grant as much Pow'r to th' Almightie and to Natures Crowne No he hath said It by whose onely WORD all is that is and All hath made of nought Whose Power is Infinite which can accord Repugnancies themselues but with a Thought For there is nothing that doth argue Pow'r but he can doe it what he cannot doe Is fraile inglorious base and most impure else can he doe it and vndoe it too If Gods Prerogatiue were crusht so close that he no more then Man had pow'r t' effect How were he God nay God himselfe he showes in that his Workes farre passe our Intellect Then let 's beleeue Omnipotence can speake no Word it cannot doe how e'er to vs It seemes impossible for we are weake and weakly iudge of hard things to discusse But let vs rest on that ne'er-failing WORD nay so put vp our Rest that eu'n our Soules Yea all our All may thereby be assur'd in so faire Hazard that no Chance controules For should we rest but on those restlesse Stayes that Reason betraid by sense erects we shall But rest on that 's betrayed and betrayes so in right sense and Reason needes must fall But say there were no rising after Death by vertuous life what doe or can we lose But spend our Time in gaining longer breath for Vertue Lifes foes Passions doth repose And if there were no Hell to punish sinne yet we in Reason should not sinne sith it Is so obsceane and thereby nought we winne but selfe-condemning of our Will and Wit But we that doe beleeue we eft shall rise haue great aduantage of the rest for we Haue what they haue though fewer vanities and by our faith in case farre better be For if there be another Life than this wherein all weale or woe we must sustaine Then by Good workes and Faith we shall haue blisse but faithlesse men all labour for their paine For impious Atheists take more paines for Hell tiring themselues with ioyes that vexe their Sp'rits Then pious men still praying in their Cell doe take for Heau'n for That the Sp'rit delights Deare Lord then so dispose my Wit and Will that I may rest vpon thy Word which makes Me blest and worke in rest thereafter still with more delight then Sense in pleasure takes In sacred Raptures take my Soule to thee and her embrace with kisse of endlesse Peace That being so familiar still with mee I at thy Doome may hopefull be through these That though the horror of that day be such as may all Sense confound with feare past feare Yet may I hope though yet I feare too much thou wilt not damne him whō thou heldst so dear Meane while so binde my Sense with vertues bands that it may neuer moue but as she shall Loose or restraine it or thy sacred Hands all whose restraints are free from paine or fall And let that Trump as with a Saint it did still in the Organ of my hearing sound That shall to Iudgement call both quicke and dead that so Ieuer may be ready found For yet I doe but doate on false Delights Delights alas that stile they ill sustaine Though false be added for they vexe the Sp'rits of all that taste them so they are but paine Vncharme the Charmes then of these grieuous ioyes that still allure my sense of them to taste And let my pleasure be in all annoyes for thy deare Loue vntill I breath my last For were I here to liue as many a yeere as yeeres haue moments in extreame annoy Yet it vnworthy of Heau'ns glory were sith it is infinite in time and ioy But now by Nature though it should extend my life beyond my life I cannot last Longer then one that 's making now his end for my best part of life long since is past My best said I ô sname if so it were I should dispaire or if I did not so I should be franticke with distracting feare that my best time in madnesse did bestow But Thou that of the worst canst make the best make this my worst time best my later Age Make better then my first for I detest to thinke on That so fond so full of rage Let me relapse no more in word nor deede Relaspses more doe vexe me then my sinne And yet my sinnes still make my Conscience bleede but my Relapses ranckle still therein Relaps in sicknesse fleshes death doth threat Relaps in Heresie the death of Sp'rit In Error it makes falshood hugely great and so in sinne it makes it infinite In Grace sweet Sauiour there is neuer stay a Progresse or a Regresse still there is But from a Regresse let me euer stray although thereby I goe about to blisse What bootes it me to day to fight with sinnes if I to morrow follow Sathans Flagge It is th'vnwearied fighter glory winnes the weary but base Baggage and the Bagge Then let the dreadfull day of mine Accounts be so annext vnto my Heart and Braine As if they were one Essence and the founts of teares mine Eyes still farre out-flow the Maine And fixe mine Eyes still on my Mother Earth to minde from whence I came and where I must Or else on Heau'n from whence my Soule had birth but looke on no meane Things for them to lust Although such Continence be not without their outward spight that Vertue inly Hate For when we first to liue well goe about w' are crost and recrost by the Reprobate As thy deare Seruant walking on the Maine vpon thy bidding fainted when he saw A sodaine Gust make rough th Oceans Plaine inuokt thy help neare sincking through that Flaw So in this World a Sea of woes and spight thou bidst vs come to thee but as wee hie Huge Stormes of troubles threat to sinke vs quite then helpe we craue with feare at point to dye Yet Constant Lord let me no more relapse no more no more once more would kill me quite Rather then so let thy fierce Thunder-claps dash me to dust so thou receiue my
well as wasts And that strong Rime their ruine farre out-lasts My Muse shall labour on this ground of Fame To raise a Pile of Rime whereon thy Name Shall euer shine through Wits Celestiall Plashes Vntill another Phoenix of the Ashes Produced be that when it eft shall burne In those eternall flames it eft may turne To pristine plight and by such alteration Liue Phoenix-like still bright in admiration 3 We waile their want whose Liues our wants supplide Not weighing how they liu'd but when they dide For the best liuers here doe liuing dye But after death they liue immortally Children and Fooles are angry still with those That to distill disleaue the fairest Rose Not pond'ring how the sweetnesse in the Iuyce Is so increast and longer lasts for vse So we that see this Rose whose hue and breath Celestiall were diuided so by Death Though it for heau'nly purposes be done Yet still our thoughts but on the spoile doe runne But ô be 't farre from vs to thinke thee spoil'd In liuing blest and dying so vnsoil'd No we thy Memory will celebrate Whose weale we waile not but reioyce thereat If in this Paper Monument there be One Ornament of Arte that 's worthy thee Or any Worke of Wit that may retaine Thy Memory my Labour for my Paine Is too great Meede sith by the same I show Times future what will better them to know So shall I in thy Praise include mine owne And making thee so knowne still still be knowne For if this Shrine chance to be visited By any that regard the worthy dead It may be they will thinke me worthy Loue That on this Pile did all my cunning proue Th' Egyptians with their Pirameds did striue Against the Heau'ns to keepe such dead aliue And Artemisia with a matchlesse Tombe Makes her Mausolus liue vntill the doome Though It be now demolished and gone Yet is he knowne by It as It was knowne And Wit but with meere Words hath often rais'd A Monument of Praise farre longer prais'd Then may this Worke which but weake words erect Vpon so sure a Ground worke like effect The Name of Egerton she doth renowne And that by which she last of all was known Nay had she had by Fortune all the Names That Wit for Natures vilest Creatures frames Sh 'had so much Grace consorting still her Bloud As to haue made them all as great as good The Dayes of old did lay their Macchabes Vnder Worlds-wonders huge Piramides Semiramis in her bright Polymite And Cyrus in his Obelisk as bright In his Columna they Augustus shut And in his Mole-magno Hadrian put Alaricus the Gothe that ruinde Rome In his rich Rubico they did entombe Those dead yet liu'd by these and these againe Liue yet by those though nought of them remaine But were I able I my Saint would shrine Within the mouthes of Angels most diuine Sith they out-last all Worlds that Time doth end And haue of creatures best mouthes to commend But liue sweet Saint in mine immortall Rime Made by thy vertue such past Tombes and Time For if eternall Vertue cannot dye Then thou must liue till She doth ruin'd lye Farewell deare Maide whose body like a soule Had pow'r t' inflame the Loue it did controule Farewell while we by thy deare losse fare ill That is while griefes doe grow the Heart to fill For she that held all Hearts by her deserts To her entire her Death must breake all Hearts Ye Ladyes that aliue doe inly loue So much o'er-weening that doth mortall proue Looke not ascue nor turne the Head aside As if you could no Praise but yours abide At these iust Praises Relickes of the Dead But learne by them to be so honoured Enuy doth leaue the Enui'd at the Graue That Fort from Enuy should the Vertuous saue Then ô exalt these Lauds vnlesse you will Be rather pittied then enuide still Poets I grant haue libertie to giue More height to Grace then the Superlatiue So hath a Painter licence too to paint A Saint-like face till it the Saint out saint But Truth which now mine Art to shaddow striues Makes licence larger by the grace she giues But yet To say thou wast the Forme that is the soule Of all this All I should thee misenroule In Booke of Life which on the Earth they keepe That of Arts fountaines haue carowsed deepe Nay so I should displease and wrong thee both For vniust praise thou canst not chose but lothe That lothed'st it here then there more past compare For hee 's the Soule of All by whom they are But I may say and none the same gainsayes Thou art the soule of this thy World of Praise Whose soule did animate thy small-world too To be the soule of all that here I doe Oft haue I seene thee nay I see thee yet Whose face and manners I shall ne'er forget When as thine eares had heard or eyes had seene Ought that to Vertue had offensiue beene Thy face and brest with that faire blush o'erflow Which Modestie not Bashfulnesse doth owe. In these bold Times it 's held a Tricke too fresh Of vnbred Indians so to paint the flesh For any cause but this is but th' effect Of Impudence the Times soules chiefe affect No Parts i◠laudable at Court requir'd But they attir'd thee in thy state retir'd Yet thou so modestly didst act them still As that the light'st seem'd graue against their will What shall I say in thee was nought so small That was not greatly prais'd and lou'd of All This shewes thy Mother true vnto thy Sire Whose worths in loue set all the World on fire Thou his true Daughter likewise dost the same While thou goest through Obliuion by the flame The Soule a two-fold action hath that is Originall and Instrumentall this By Nature doth the like produce but that Meere Intellectual doth not generate Though Nature yet could not so high aspire Thou in thy spirit wast like thine honor'd Sire By speciall grace of Heau'n for in your Birth Such Planets met as deckt and ioyde the Earth But ô too soone the earth quite lost that Ioy And in that losse found infinite Annoy Such is the staylesse state of Things below That doe but vanish while they seeme to grow Beneath the Moone all is but like the Moone Constant in nothing but in changing soone And so will be while they remaine beneath Resting from changing onely but in Death As when the Whirle-windes in their wheeling play Pursue their Turnes till in their Center they Returne into themselues so Nature goes On in her Course which first from forme arose Vntill this World of forme be dispossest And Nature in the Chaos takes her rest That Time runs round by this dark Riddle 's bright A Father hath twelue sonnes halfe blacke halfe white And eu'ry sonne hath thirty which still liue And when their sires decease they them reuiue So sire and sous still die but die in vaine For still the thirty
with waight grow higher their flame doth waxe more strong the more it is with-stood Their Spice by pounding yeeldeth sweeter sent and Le ts to Truth are borne downe with this floud Which let abroad doth grow more violent And while it runnes it rores and after cryes For vengeance on their Foes Truths Enemies With Tyrants Thundrings Errours Cloud is crackt th'inclosed light of Truth 's disclosed so And showres of bloud that then for Truth are wrackt makes Martyrs more and more on Earth to grow For still their Side by God himselfe is backt they Sampsons with their Death do quell the foe And most torment him when they most are rackt then good Crosse blessed sheep-crooke Saints stil keep to Christ whose Hooke thou art to catch his Sheepe For as a feate Embroderer that hath a piece of Veluet brackt t'embroder on So drawes his Worke that he to hide the scath embroders richliest in that place alone So GOD vpon the Veluet of our flesh all torne in time of Persecution Couers the Bracks with Beautie faire as fresh So that the other Parts are beautifide By those rent parts by GOD so glorifide And as the Paper-mill of rotten Raggs tane from the Dung-hill by still mauling it Makes so white Paper as the filthy Iagges may now infold the purest part of Wit Or purest things that come from Heart or Hand so we by Martyrdome are made most fit How euer base in glory still to stand And made more apt diuinely to comprise Gods glorious Graces and his Rarities Thogh th'vpper heau'n doth turne by violent sway the lower out of course from East to West Yâ—t of themselues they wheele the other way for they by Nature turne from West to East So thogh from th' East where Truth begins to shine her Foes would force our Faith or course at least To Errors West where Truth doth still decline Yet must we stirre as Grace and Nature moues Vnto the East where God our course approues A Martyr's like a Dye which though it fall this or that way it fals no way amisse It flat will lye or cannot lye at all so Martyrs lye with Truth where ere she is They will lye leuell with the Earth nay more In or aboue it lye or stand for this Hange burne or starue all 's one they feele no sore Then when God throwes at all with them to win At eu'ry throw he drawes some others in Abel he cannot be that is not taught true patience by the malice of a Caine And happy he that like a Cole is caught out of Afflictions fire with God to raigne While he is bright and glowes with Charitie for whether to be white or red in graine The Church were best is vncouth to discry The Churches flowres the Rose nor Lilly want But both adorne and make her triumphant The martyr'd Body of our Lord and God is the main Rock from whence his Saints are hewne For from his flesh they rent are with the Rod and by the rentings of the Rod are knowne To be true flesh of his torne Flesh and so to be his Types by which him selfe is shewne To Heathen-folke that him desire to know O! t is a glory past the height of FAME To be like Christ in suffrings as in name The antient Romaines vs'd their force to trye t' incounter Beares and Lyons and the Scarres That came by sauage Tuskes they valued hye and piercings of their Pawes so many Starres If in vaine-glory they such Dents endur'd what should we doe in Christ our Captaines Warres Be'ing of true glory for our fight assur'd We should with Patience arm'd encounter death And for that gaine with torment lose our breath Shall Saints feare Men whom Angels ought to feare for Saints shall iudge the Angels and the Fâ—end Hath cause to feare them for they rule doe beare ouer his Legions yea his Forces rend The World should likewise feare them sith the Saints shall with heau'ns Vmpier iudge it in the end Than hee that at his threates or torments faints Can be no Saint but must be Iudg'd of them A Coward to foule shame and paines extreame Elias must not feare nor feare disguize to let the Mantle of his flesh to fall To flye in Coach â—lame-wing'd to Paradise Gedeon must breake his earthly Pots sith all Their Light 's so seene to put his foes to flight Ioseph must leaue his Cloake or else he shall Be mou'd to wrong his Maister in his right Life leads to Care but Death to Comfort leads Then Death in Syons cause in Sion treads At Sea decayes the Sailer in his Tent the ventrous Sâ—uldier in the Court decayes The vertuous Courtier Iustice in Iudgement true Faith in Friendship Skill in Arts Assaies In Manners Discipline so we alone that dying liue in these too nightly dayes Vnder the ruines of the World doe grone All is quite or â—erlesse which doth portend The World with vs is euen at an end And ô what should I say when Courage makes the Cause nor good nor bad for Falshoods Friends Haue dide in Errors cause at flaming Stakes as stout as Martyrs in their constant ends Witnesse that Legate sent from Pow'rs beneath who late in Smith-field Error so defends That he out-fac'd Truth men flames dread death And Anabaptists there for Error stood Aâ— stout as those that for truth lost their bloud But Legate though thou canst no answere yeeld yet let me question thee as many doe Question the dead for Error which they held tell me who gaue thy false Faith Courage too That thou for Error should'st so stoutly burne for Error that must needs thy Soule vndoe If on the Coales from it shee did not turne Can Sathan counterfet our GOD so nye In 's Gifts that men for him should stoutly dye But thou might'st answere Faith though false it be yet if the Soule perswaded be it's true Vpon the Heart it worketh morrally as Faith doth which to Heau'nly Truth is due This made the Priests of Baal their flesh to wound and many Indians sense of paine subdue Yea burne with those whose Faith thâ—y hope was sound Then not to suffer much nor Constancy Proues Error Truth which fire 's too cold to trye Then Truth must trye her selfe by Reas'n and Faith but where Faith bids beleeue Reas'n still must be Obedient to beleeue what ere she saith though she say Three are One and One is Three A Maid's a Mother that a Man had wiu'd true God vnmade made true Man really And that the Dead shall rise as here they liu'd All this and more of Faith must Reas'n beleeue But God the Fount of Reas'n this Faith must giue Death is the worst of Ils yet best to those that dye for Faith well tryde and who they be The Conscience of the Dyers neuer knowes if with the Rules of Faith they disagree Then God knowes who are his and Men may know that all are his his â—reest Spirit doth free From life by death
Wit to cast about those Turnes to pleasure it Which findes new Pleasures lin'd with old Annoyes So that when Sense and Wit are at a Stand in quest of Pleasures vaine variëty they are so cloid with their saciëtie That Will is wearyed with her owne Command Thus in this Life or Laborynth of Ils We toile our Wits in vaine to please our Wils To my most deare and no lesse worthily-beloued Friend and Pupill Henry Mainwarring Esquier with the truely-noble and venterous Knight Sr. Henry Thynne accompanying into Persia the meritoriously-farre-renowmed Knight Sr. Robert Sherley Englishman yet Lord Ambassadour sent from the great Persian Potentate to all Christian Princes for the good of Christendome HEroicke Pupill and most honor'd Friend to thee as to my Moitie I bequeath Halfe th' other halfe beginning at mine end to make I hope me triumph ouer Death My Sonne sole Sonne and all I euer had vnto thy Care and Seruice I commend So make me Sonnelesse till you make me glad with your Returne from this Worlds further end The Absence of so deare a Sonne as thou must needes affect thine honor'd Sire with Griefe But for thy good he doth his Griefe subdue so doe I mine by his sith his is chiefe Then with my Sonne take thou my Hart and these Celestiall Charmes in Stormes to calme the Seas Rob not the Poore because he is poore neyther wrong him in Iudgement Pro. 22.22 THough Words with Wisedome richly be attirde yet if their Speaker be not rich withall They will be rather scorned then admir'd or thought through Enuyes spight most criminall But Words pronounced by Authoritie though no Authoritie doth them approue Are held for Oracles of Deitie and quoted as rich Scriptures Truth to proue Thus Wisedome rare without a Fortune rich is a rich Gift that gets but poore regard For Wisedomes lowest voyce or highest Pitch if her Pipe be but meane can ne'er be heard For the Worlds Eares though wide no voyce can heare That comes not from a Pipe as deare as cleare To my worthy witty long-approued and beloued Friend Mris Ioyce Ieffreies Let vs heare the end Feare God and keepe his Commandements for this is the whole duty of man Eccles. 12.13 MAny a weary Winter haue I past since first our eyes strange lookes did interchange But now deare Friend that is as kinde as fast Time in Lifes Reere or vitall Powres doth range My Layes of Loue are now turn'd all to Psalmes and Hymnes addrest to Heau'n which my yong dayes Did most offend Then now I craue this Almes that thou for me on These our God wilt praise When Time and Thwarts haue taught the humbled sp'rit that all saue loue and feare of God is vaine By Grace and Nature we take most delight in paines which may preuent eternall paine Then if thy Will doe match thy Wit deare Friend On these Feete maist thou trauell to that END The CONCLVSION LO here an end of these our Muses Flights which aymed at Mans End or chiefest GOOD But if too wilde shee were in heau'nly Heights let her be made to know it by the Wâ—ood If her Disire too high hath made her rise though lesse than GOD contents not that Desire Of Christ and of his Church she mercy cryes and humbly stoupes to what they doe require Yea prostrate she doth fall nay vailes her Necke vnder his Spouse the Church her sacred Feete Submitting all her Soarings to her Checke and ready to reforme what shee thinkes meete If she hath rightly fled GOD made that Flight If not she prayes the Church to make it right But knew I ought offensiue to her Eare My Teares should blot It yer It mended were FINIS LONDON Printed by T. S. for George Norton and are to be solde at his Shoppe vnder the Blacke-bell within Temple-barre 1612. * Dutton