his brow and calls the dancing billowes up aloft does weep to heare the ruined Mariner complaine Hence let the tongues of prophane Papists be silent and sing no more their idle Layes lest while they trust to the memory of their Saints they lose the merit of their Saviour and seeking Saint Peters Key to open the gate they stand with the foolish Virgins knocking at the doore It is not penning many bookes it is not praying with many beades it is not a new slaine Sacrifice nor the bloud of Bulls nor the fat of Rams nor a thousand Rivers of Oyle nor the Hypocrites humility nor the worldlings beauty deckt in glory that can save from the day of wrath Reader I le tell you why because they are nothing all the Consonants in the Alphabet can spell nothing without a Vowell ten thousand Cyphers stand for nothing without a Figure all the Nations of the earth are but as the drop of the Bucket and the small dust of the Ballance not only vanity but lighter then vanitie till God unite the sinner to his Son and makes him something he is nothing but then God the Father calls him something and by calling him so he makes him so But before the power of the Prince the pen of the Poet the valour of the Souldier the skill of an Orator is nothing they themselves are nothing the best of them are but Cyphers and though one Cypher is bigger then another yet they all stand for nothing Much study indeed is a wearinesse to the flesh but to keep thy Commands that is impossible for flesh and spirit Ah Lord the glory of nature may worke the one but the gifts of Grace must doe the other the power of earth may practice the first but the Prince of heaven must performe the last Keepe thy Commands There is not a sentence so hard among all the learned Synods of the world it strikes dead at once all the faculties of the soule the poore creature here does stand amazed Alas it is as hard for the poore soule to doe this as for the earth to ascend to the stars and wander with the Spheres and therefore like St. John the soule weepes sore when he sees there is none found worthy in the world But soule retire thy selfe from teares advance thy slumbring eyes though thou art not worthy that dwellest on earth yet there is a Lambe found worthy that does inherit Heaven nay he is not onely worthy but willing hee every day approacheth the Altars and mingles his blood with thy sacrifices and sweetens thy prayers with his perfumes when they ascend before the immortall Throne Sinner thou hast a Saviour who is able to doe the worke if thou canst but finde a will Oh Love how transcendent are thy Lawes I faine would pry into thy glorious precepts yet dare not lest I am too soone lost and drowne my selfe in pleasure and never heard of ravishings least a glance of immortality do strike me blinde and I surfet with excesse of joy and die With showers of tears O drowne my wanton eyes thou sayst I am nothing Ah Lord and now I see I am nothing let my down-cast eyes present a silent sorrow and let my heart resemble the dusky evening aire when the Sunne has done the day or as poore Luna in her eclipsed hower descends her silver throne and having lost bright Sol resignes her glory to the spangled traine of wandring stars mourning for the absence of his Chariot wheeles And since I am nothing humble this heart that would too soone be high and like the wavering Plumes swell with every breath of praise It is not reading the Bible will save me from Hell nor writing a Booke will send me to Heaven as some gifts of Grace cannot secure me so all the gifts of nature will not have power to save me I may die for all the first and be damned notwithstanding the last Then if love be better then labour and utility goes before ingenuity if the lowest faith be better then the highest fancy and a dram of grace be heavier then a tun of gold what need I goe round about to Heaven when there is a nearer way no I have done this is the last of my labours now I will trouble the world no more with a Poem from my Pen the way to Heaven is by low contrition not high speculation by private prayers not by publique praises and by the truth of fear not by the trump of fame Feet finde me out the way I have none to direct me now but the Counsell of a troubled heart yet I will try Shine faire some glittering star you that enlighten your darkned journey with your borrowed glory and in your blessed Orbes continually behold the day say gentle guides how lies my journey to the immortall hill lead me and I will follow you And O God hide all my faults in thy love and shew me how to creepe through the straite gate upon my tender joints and bended knees in this my youthfull age shew me my inability that I may admire thy Majesty and though by others I should be thought something yet to my selfe let me appeare nothing that thou mayest be all in all FINIS
well And yonder sits the Larke and turtle dove Come let 's goe walke and we will paralell Love with eternall glory in you Grove Wee 'le take the subtle Fox nor will we spare To hunt the light foot Deere or timerous Hare Come then my love my dove arise my fairest faire V. Rise Phoeb ' and come away thy blinded eye Is lul'd to ruine in dislumbring dreame Why art thou rockt in such a lullaby And drown'd in various wanton streames Come let us travell to eternity And languish in the purest sweet extreames Wherefore my deare so greedy dost thou crowd To danger why to darknesse dost thou shrowd And leave thy love alone wrapt in a sable Cloud VI. Rise Phoeb ' and come away thy short Reposes Are flattring slumbers leave thy slippry hold Of sordid earth come on a bed of Roses I le knit thy haire in knots of fringed gold Wee 'le pusse the flying day in entercloses Of dearest love with glory uncontroul'd I 'le teach thee how to surfet in the fire Of loves immortall flames while some desire To spēa their time in prais thou rather shalt admire VII Rise Phoeb ' and come away we 'le make great Jove To stop his fiery horses swift carere Whose nostrills vomit flames we 'le mount above And hold the Reines of Titans hemisphare sgrove And guide his Chariot wheeles through pleasures And view the hallowea walks Come come my dear Le ts wander to Elizium whose bright ray Out-shines great Phoebus in his new born day Or the most fairest noon rise Phoeb ' and come away The fourth SOLILOQUIE AH Lord thou commandest us to seeke thy face that we may shun death and yet thou sayest none can see thy face and live Ah! let me live that I may know thee or die that I may see thee It is the happinesse of those glorious Angels that they continually behold thee and therefore they incompasse thine Altar with sweet Odours unspeakeable Rhaptures and high Hallelujah's but we poore mortalls prest down with sinne with guilt with flesh with feare cannot worthily praise thee Ah me why doe I seeke thee If thou beest no where absent why doe I not finde thee if thou beest every where present sure to the eye of darknesse thou wrappest thy selfe in thicke darkenes and thou art discovered to the eye that is enlightned thou art seene in thy power to sinners in thy terrour to Sathan in thy Sonne to thy Saints thou art seene in thy judgement to them that are against thee in thy Justice to them that flye from thee in thy Sacraments to them that seeke thee in thy Lawes to them that love thee and in thy Love to them that know thee Whence proceedeth this thy condiscention and thine infinite humiliation that thou did'st leave thy Throne in Heaven to live in the forme of a servant on earth Why didst thou change thy Crowne of Royalty for a Crowne of Indignity Why should aninfinite Creatour love a finite Creature and Heaven stoope to Hell Alas oh Lord Jesus heere was no Royall Throne for thy Majesty no Glorious Temple to entertaine thee heere was no winged Cherubins to beare thee no Armies of Angells to stand before thee no sweete faced object to delight thine eyes no musicall Raptures to salute thine eares no costly odours to annoynt thy feete nor spangled Canopy to spread over thy head but sinne and shame guilt and feare hell and horrour blacknesse and darkenesse extremity poverty impurity deformity and canst thou love so poore a thing as man oh thou that inhabitest in Heaven in light inaccessible in glory incomprehensible who canst with a frowne overturne thine enemies fame and by their ruine purchase thy selfe glory and if the World should totally revolt from thee and set her selfe against thee Couldst thou not command a suddaine clap of thunder to spurne her from her Poles shake her from her Center crack her Axeltrees and breake her Chariot wheeles Couldst thou not let loose the Elements that the Heavens should bee hid in blacknesse and the Sunne should bee cloathed in darkenesse that the Waters should drowne the earth and the fire should devoure the aire or with an angry breath couldst thou not puffe them all away that earth and ayre and water and fire should vanish and the world should be no more and in the roome thereof create in a moment to perfect thy praises ten thousand severall Orbes Why then oh man art thou so much deluded Why is Heaven and his sweet invitations so much disregarded sure there bee foure dayes in which thou wilt call thy selfe foole for neglecting so great salvation And they be these The day of publick calamity The day of private extreamity The day of death The day of doome First in the day of publick calamity if the world should bee governed in blacknesse and darkeneste If natures fabrick should bee smitten if the powers of the world should bee shaken if the waters should bee loosed if the fire should bee kindled if the ayre should bee infected if the earth should bee poysoned if the sword should begin to range againe and thou shouldst see thousands of mangled bodies about the streets if the trumpets should sound the alarum of war againe and the drums beat dolefull funeralls for the souldiers if whisling bullets and fiery granadoes should fall like haile on the earth and roare like the thunderclaps in heaven if every mans sword should bee set against his fellow if the earth should bee paved with dead mens bones and the channels run downe with blood if this flourishing Kingdome should bee made a burnt offering her people lye beeding like a new slain sacrifice where then couldst thou finde a chamber to hide thee in but in thy beloveds armes and under the shaddow of his mighty wings when the Lord comes to make inquisition for blood and his fury shall breake out in fiery flames to lick up the sinners of the world then will Jesus Christ bee as a shadowed grove in a thundering storme as a cooling rock in a scorching day and a fountaine of water in a weary land when the worldling shall loose his anchor of hope and suffer shipwrack thou shalt safely bee set a shoare If the famine should run after the sword the stoutest heart should grow faint and the fairest face should begin to wax pale because of pining hunger If the pestilence should follow famine if terrour should walke in darkenesse and the arrowes of the Almighty fly at noone day if a thousand should fall on thy right hand and ten thousand on thy left hand and thou beginnest to feare because of the evill that is come upon the world who then can protect thee that judgements may not touch thee but Jesus Christ Tell mee then hath hee not cause to bee beloved would hee not bee worthy to bee desired Secondly in the day of private extremity when thine eyes shall bee opened and thy heart shall bee awaked when thy minde shall bee troubled
and thy conscience tormented when sinne and all its terrour shall come to make thy life intollerable when the remembrance of thy pollutions shall bee bitter to thy soule when thine eyes shall bee a flood of teares thy teares a sea of sorrow thy sorrow a clog upon thy spirit thy spirit a trouble to thy minde thy minde a torment to thy heart thy heart an enemy to thy life thy life a burthen to thy dayes when thy conscience shall gnaw thee like a ravenous Vulture and guilt and feare shall sting thee worse then an Addar when thou shalt sit downe in sorrow all the day feeding on wormwood and drinking the poyson of Aspes how wilt thou be ready to teare thy selfe in pieces when thou shalt feele a little of the weight of sin which made thy Saviour groane when thy heart shall be affrighted and thy minde shall be amazed when Hell is discovered and the Heavens are darkened then would not that glorious arme that now invites thee be welcome to thee nay would he not be worth a thousand worlds that shall ease the anguish of thy soule in such an houre Thirdly at the day of death thy beloved will be desired when the Sunne and the light and the Moone and the Stars shall be darkned and the clowdes returne after the Raigne when thy joynts shall tremble and thy knees knock together when thy courage shall be faintnesse thy beauty shall bee pâ—lenesse and thy rest shall bee wearinessâ— when thy memory shall faile thee when thine eyes shall deceive thee when death shall shake thâ—e thy riches slye from thee and the Mourners stand about thee when sin and feare and gâ—â—â—â— and horrour and death and terrour shall conduct thee through the gates of mortality and launch thee forth into the Gulph of eternity when all about thee seeme to daunce around thee in the daunce of death then sinner see in all thy inventoâ—y what wilt thou prize none but Jesus Christ and welcome Jesus Christ to the sinner in such a day Fourthly at the day of Judgement thy Saviour will be welcome when at the sound of the trumpet and the shout of the Arch Angell the sleeper shall be awaked the world shall bee started the living shall be changed the graves shall be opened the dead shall be raised when the heaven shall be covered in thicke darknesse when the Sea shall boyle up in such mighty waves as shall seeme to drowne the world when thou shalt see the earth surrounded by fire and the heavens sweltring in flames when thou shalt behold the great Judge of the world sitting upon his glorious throne borne by winged Cherubins surrounded by Armies of Angells before whom shall stand millions of naked mortals to receive their eternall doome then a smile from the Judge on the throne will revive â—â—â—e at the last and thou wilt hold up thy head with joy then that arme that now invites thee will be able to crowne thee in immortallity These are the foure dayes in which thou wilt repent thy neglect of the proffers of Love And now Reader mayst thou shut the Booke and stand amazed an howres contemplation upon the thoughts of eternity may well take roome Ah that Jesus Christ should come from the bosome of his Father from the company of his Angels from the pleasure of his Paradice from his Chaire of dignity from his Crowne of glory to put on mortality to suffer indignity to live in poverty to endure extremity to be a man of sorrow all his dayes to be buffeted scourged persecuted tormented reviled reproached dispised disgraced disparaged and abused from his cradle to his Crosse and then wander through the shaddow of death and hells darke groves from his Crosse to his Crowne How soone when the Heire of heaven was smitten was natures Fabrick shaken how soone when the Sunne of glory was extinguished was the Sunne of Heaven eclipsed What meanes the Heavens to frowne the Earth to quake the Souldiers to tremble the Temple to rend the Graves to open the Dead to arise Why must Heaven bee faine to suffer and natures Fabrick bee out of order Was all this for man Alas and what is man A little mouldring dust a piece of moving earth a maske of mortallity an inch of eternity whose life is but labour whose wisdome is but folly whose grace is but impurity whose comelynesse deformity whose substance is sinne whose glory is his shame Say Reader didst thou ever see Royalty wooe Indignity Honour looke on Lownesse Highnesse sue to Basenesse Didst thou ever see a King serve a Slave Gentility wooe Poverty and Beauty love Deformity Then Reader recollect thy wandring thoughts and before thou passest to the other page pay here the tribute of a teare How hath the Prince of darkenesse besotted blinded mortalls How is man poore man befooled How doth hee sell his Corne for Chaffe his Silver for Drosse his Treasure for Torment his Paradice for Pleasure his Glory for Honour his Heaven for Earth his Earth for Hell How doth hee set his heart on vanity and slights the richest rarity God calls once and twice and the carnall heart heares not hee comes with all the purest expressions and sweetest invitations with all the words of Art and the allurements of love yet blinded man regards not but wallowes in impurity and slumbers in a lethargy till hee perishes to eternity Ah Lord thou dwellest in that light inaccessible and brightnesse incomprehensible that no eye can see and not be struck blind thy glorious Pallace stands in eternity and thy sparkling Throne is scituate in immortallity in the midst of brightnesse in such a circle of glory that no mortall can behold unlesse hee drop downe and dye Dominion and feare are with thee and of thy Government there shall bee no end What gaine is it to thee if wee bee Righteous and wherein art thou damaged if wee bee polluted If the world should revolt from the Prince of darkenesse and vaile her Crowne to thy Supreamacy If all Nations should bee willing to bee swayed by the Scepter and bow before thy immortall Throne this cannot adde to the greatnesse of thy Majesty nor if the disobedience of thy Children the frownes of thy Foes the envy of thy Enemies the subtilty of Sathan the wickednesse of the World the helpe of Hell were against thee set in battle Ray they could not darken thy Dignity they could not eclipse thy Glory Yet albeit thou couldst gaine honour by our destruction yet thou delightest in our conversion and therefore thou offerest thy Word thy Gospel thy Sacrament thy selfe and thy sonne thou givest us Reprovements Allurements Precepts and Promises Comfort and Counsell Direction Dehortation But wee poore mortalls are too unkinde to reward thy love with disdaine thy curtesie with distoyalty but what shall wee say Shall wee that are but dust direct Eternity in his unsearcheable actions Thou commandest us to seeke thee Alas wee cannot finde thee Thou bidst us apply our selves to know
joyes in thy faire Mistrefle eyes that like foolish Paris bowest to the Shrine of Venus whose happynesse and life lyes in thy Ladyes love remember the Peacock hath faire Feathers but foule feete the Bee hath Honey by her toyle but a sting in her tayle the finest Rose may have pricks at the stalke and the fairest Apple may bee rotten at the Core Nay though thy Lady may bee civill worthy and vertuous yet time may make her lascivious wanton and various the fairest Blossome may bee the soonest blasted and the sweetest Flower the quickliest withered the blustring Windes may swell the mightiest waves and a glorious Morne may turne a gloomy day The Philosophers say the life of man is nothing but opinion Alas thou doest but dreame fond Lover heere are no hallowed Groves no faire Elizium walkes no Palaces of pleasure no high borne Imps of honour no heads archt in Royalty no beauties deckt in glory But wanton Cupids morall blaze which is as a shining flash or a seeming fire hot in a minute and cold in a moment which will blast thee if thou behold it and burne thee if thou come too neare 〈…〉 will come when thou shall dread that which thou dost now adore and loath the thing thou now dost love e're long the stoutest heart shall bee faint and the fairest face begin to waxe pale then pleasantnesse shall turne peevishnesse and kindnesse to coldnesse plenty shall bee poverty and beauty deformity then shalt thou behold the rottennesse of youth when thou commest to the ripenesse of age and see the uncertainty of life when thou receivest the summons of death For all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse And thou fond muckworme that servest the gods of gold what needest thou labour for an Inheritance in earth Thou hast too surely earth already go labour for an Inheritance foole that will not faile thee lest either thy Riches flye from thee or thy Money perish with thee lest the rot take thy heart as the rust may eate thy gold lest thy possession bee made a desolation and instead of having a Treasure in Heaven thou purchase with thy Coyne an eternall Tombe in Hell And likewise thou yong man thy morning is but now risen and it promises to bee a Sunne-shine day and thou doest not dreame that all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse yet flatter not thy selfe too fairely though thou were not strangled in thy Nativity yet thou mayest bee cut off in thy maturity though thou wert not blowne away in the fondnesse of thy youth yet thou mayest bee cut off in the fullnesse of thine age therefore let this rectifie thy reason and purge thy pollution let it raise thy love and humble thy heart thou knowest thou shalt dye but thou canst not tell when thou art sure thou shalt fall but thou doest not know where Well walke so on earth that death may conduct thee into Heaven expect Death every where but feare it no where for when thy present tense shall bee made a preterimperfect tense as thou hast lived holily so shalt thou dye happily and raigne in immortall blessednesse in the Pallace of high glory Tell mee thou old man I thinke thou art acquainted well with our subject that all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse what pleasure hadst thou in those things whereof thou art now ashamed With much paine thou hast past thy pilgrimage and worne thy wearied dayes thy life has beene but a longer prologue to an eternall Tragedy Go look on the Monuments of the old World old man and see how those mighty sonnes of Annak sleepe in earth How death has given them their quâ—â—cus est In the house of darkenesse there is no striving for dignities nor purchasing of places An Army of Souldiers that are there cannot march in Battle Ray not in their Warlick Triumphs thunder about their Tombes The greatest Merchant when hee takes that house hee loses all the richest Usurer that was worth thousands heere if you go to him there hee has not a penny in his pocket but is as poore as hee was sometimes proud The wisest Lawyer and the eloquentest Oratour when they come there give over their practise and will plead no more the Lord is there but a Companion for his Lacky and the Judge on the Bench sleepes safe with the Prisoner at the Barre How dolefull mee thinkes is the alarum of yonder passing Bell ushering Deaths Language in every eare If it goes for an unprepared sinner the sound thereof strikes terrour the night grows horrible and every object showes his blacke actions Oh the Conscience of the lost sinner now how is hee hurryed Now for an houre of life but it will not bee Let the sinner see in all his Inventory what will hee prize or what can give one houre of ease None but Jesus Christ Alas but hee hath no share in him Unhappy soule how hast thou spent thy time and worne out thy pretious dayes Was it in love thou hast spent thy life Oh hadst thou beene acquainted with Heaven how mightest thou have beene swallowed in the Sea of love Tell mee who made the earth so full of variety the Sunne so glorious the Moone so beautious Who made the glittering Starres that aspire the Olympick Hill that the lower Orbes might bee relieved by the spangled spheres when the Sunne has done the day Say sinner must not hee that gives beauty to deformity bee himselfe much more lovely Or what was it profit thou hast laboured for what greater profit then to be a Prince or what higher happinesse then holinesse what greater riches then righteousnesse or what higher gaine then to weare an immortall Crowne Or was it pleasure thou hast sought after I thinke the pleasure of the world is paine remember how often thou hast called thy selfe Foole when thou hast been retired alone when thy fancy hath been wearied in folly and thy Recreation hath gone beyond thy Reason deluded soule what pleasure is like that which dwells in Paradice in those blest Groves which cannot bee described by the pen of the Writer nor exprest by the tongue of an Orator whose glory had any but the Art to paint forth in the language of love t would leave the writer in a Maze or strike the Reader dead But now poore soule in seeking the things that are but momentany thou hast lost thy selfe eternally who now can intercede before the immortall throne that the sinner may be saved none but Jesus Christ and alas the soule is not acquainted with him unhappy soule thou art now struck silent goe drowne thy closed eyes in Teares lye downe in dust forgotten earth for thou shalt rise no more till the Axeltrees of the world shall begin to flame and time shall breake his Charriot wheeles till the Heavens shall passe away with a great noyse and the world shal swelter in flames
sermonibus aures Et saltat Cytherae Caelica turba tua L. M. To his deare Friend Ier. Rich on his Mellificium Musarum NEstor was aged when he undertooke The Trojan Wars thou yong and writ this Book His age both wit and eloquence required Thou yong in yeares yet hast to that aspired T is strange sure all the Muses do agree In one in spite of fate to honour thee Oh that our Iron age could be refin'd To purest gold that thou reward mightst find To thy desert but worth shall make thy Name Ride through the world upon the wings of Fame JOHN AVIS The Entertainment VVAs it a Dreame or is the world bereaven Of all her glory what has the lamps of heaven Left mortalls in a maze and are the skies Orecast will Phoebus blind our darkned eyes Are Mars and Juno come to play their parts Againe on earth and shoot their fiery darts The worlds great fabrick sure will fall in sunder Being rockt so often with great cracks of thunder In dreadfull war Rise Phoeb and come away Why hast thou robd us of so fayre a day Our Tapours burne but dim our musick 's shrill The Poet heere may blunt his idle quill In writing Tragedies time changed our stage And turned our golden to an Iron age O Lord of glory beare my dulled Muse Through this sad Poem and doe thou infuse Love in my Lines and pleasure in my paine That all my labour may not be in vaine Guide me as thou didst Davids hand when he Writ to the world his divine Poetry Lift me on Eagles wings that I may flie Aloft and conquer death before I die Turne Poetry to piety crowne this story With grace and crown my grace with endlesse glory Where everlasting joy did dwell before All ages and shall be when time shal be no more J. RICH. The evill of Envy In the Example of Caine and Abell Genesis 4.8 I. GOe palt fac'd wrinkled envy flye away thou cam'st too soone Goe take thy horrid darknesse and display about the Moone Let not thy shadows dimme our dawning day or fairest Noone Because thy tempted Father fell What didst thou well To eclipse so faire a morne but born and then rebell II. How soone this bloody Tragedy began upon our stage The day growes darke before the morning Sun ha's three houres age O cursed Caine what has thy treachery done thy boyling rage Because thy sacrifice of sinne did smell what didst thou well To kill thy brother too but born and then rebell III. The night growes horribls both Sun and Moone are shadowed o're The boystrous whirlewinde now even at high noone begins to roare Now sin hath plaid her part ah me how soone death 's at the doore Because thou lost thy sacrifice Oh tell what didst thou well To lose high glory too but born and then rebell IV. What glory didst thou gaine to be so sly in that foule deed Caust thou not live unlesse thy Brother dye or must he bleed Because thou art not blest harke vengeante cries against thy seed Thy eares were shut when humble Abell fell but didst thou well To shut up Heaven to but born and then rebell V. Thus blinded worldings are you all befool'd in your false aime To thinke the fire of envy may be cool'd in furies flame What honour can you boast of if you should win endlesse Fame This flattring blast may blow thee into Hell ah dost thou well To sell thy heaven for hate but born and then rebell The first SOLILOQUIE IF love bee the Schoole of Arts the Modell of Vertue the Glory of Learning the Pallace of Pleasure the Whetstone of Memory the Castle of Delight the Mappe of Honour the Wonder of the World the Mystery of Mortallity and the Type of Eternity Then surely Envy must needs bee the Child of Ignorance the person of idlenesse the follower of foolishnesse the bringer of sadnesse it is a pit of poyson a cup of corruption a part of division a piece of delusion a hell of horrour a sinke of sinne a sea of shame a line of absurdity and a blot of deformity It is attended with contention with distraction with delusion with peevishnesse with palenesse with falsenesse with faintnesse with inconstancy with infidelity it shuts mans glory up in darkenesse and makes his memory dye in forgetfulnesse it doth eclipse the clearest morne and writes deformity upon the fairest brow He that is a Childe of envy is a burthen to the earth and an offence to heaven hee lives unregarded and dyes unlamented hee is borne to extremity and banisht out of glory What my son and what the son of my wombe and what the son of my vowes Give not thy strength unto women nor thy wayes to that which destroyeth Kings Prov 31.2.3 I. DRaw neare brave Lovers you that use to light your blazing Torch in Cupids flame That for a wanton Mistris dare to sight in face of death to purchase Fame And thou that sweetest Rhetorick canst indite To make a timerous Virgin tame Come hither if you please To purchase ease View but Loves vanity t will cure your disease II. Were she more fairer then the blushing morne Sweet as the Arabian spice Nâ—y were she Vertuous too and nobly borne and pure as high Paradice These rarities will leave thee soone forlorne and Love well vanish in a trice But Gallants if you please To purchase ease View but Loves vanity t will cure loves disease III. See how victorious Sampson conquered lies rock'd in his Loves deluding armes How gallantly she sings him lullabies and drownes his thoughts in Loves dull Charms Poore soule he knows not what conspiracies his Foes did hold ' gainst him in swarms Ah! had he but addrest Him to the brest Of heaven he might have slept in glorious rest IV. Where is thy strength and daring valour now Thy skill and rare agillity Thy warlike arme that made whole Armies bow what rock'd upon a Ladies knee Wake sluggard wake or hast thou past a vow to live in infidelity Ah foole go be possest In Abrahams brest So mayst thou rest indeed in loves eternall rest V. There mayst thou flumber in eternall Joyes whose rarity so far excells Base earth that all her treasures are but toyes whose Alter smokes with fuming smells There are no plots no murthers no annoyes but there the highest glory dwells If love thou needst wilt try Goe goe and lye In thy sweet Saviours armes ravish a while and die VI. There is the most resplendent purest love alas what constant love is here The amorous sweet embraces dwell above in Titans golden Hemisphere Which time nor fortunes wheele can ne're remove Thou art his Darling he thy Deare If love thou needs wilt try Goe goe and lye In thy sweet Saviours armes ravish a while and die The second SOLILOQUIE VNconstancy of Earth are all extreame in love orescorcht in Envy or led by Folly or invelloped in Vanity are drowned in sensuality the strong man boasts of
wavering Aegyptians the warlick Philistines Doe not they sleepe in the dust Thou knowest not how soone thou mayest bee gathered to thy Fathers The Earth in the Spring time puts on her mantle of greene to entertaine her Lover Phoebus but when the golden Chariot of the Sunne is fled to the Southerne World the Earth puts on her mourning withered weede the Moone shines fairely for some certaine nights but when time hath turned her from her silver throne shee resignes her glory to the following day The blazing candle for a time shines cleare but having past the age of a short lived houre it glimmers a while and dyes the glorious Lilly that is drest in such bravery is in a day disroabed of its glory and turned to withered Hay there is no such thing as a continuance heere though thou flourâ—â—◠〈◊〉 〈◊〉 greene Bay-tree yet thou shalt perish like a withered weede For evill doers shall bee cut off but those that waite upon the Lord they shall inherite the Earth For yet a little while and the wicked shall not bee yea thou shalt diligently consider his place and it shall not be Ps 37. v. 9.10 Eightly the hypocrite is a barren branch Go march among thy fellowes painted earth and then sometimes retreate and yet march on againe thou lookest indeede to Heaven but thou travellest to Hell Go on yet know false Absolon 't is not thy beauty that can save thee no Judas 't is not a dissembling kisse shall secure thee no Simon Magus 't is not thy money shall redeeme thee thou art as various as the windes as dissembling as the seas as deceitfull as the grave as darke as hell as vile as villany as gracelesse as impurity and as black as horrour can see it selfe in the blackest glasse Thou washest thy hands indeed but thy heart is defiled thou trimmest thy body but thy soule is deformed honey indeede is in thy lips but thy tongue is poysoned well foole thy selfe no more though thou doest blinde the World thou canst not hide thy selfe from Heaven Psalm 94.8.9.10 Hee that planted the eare shall hee not heare Hee that formed the eye shall hee not see Oh yee fooles when will yee bee wise Hee that teacheth man knowledge shall hee not know Though thou hast the speech of Jacob thou hast the hands of Esau thou hast the devotion of Abel but the dissimulation of Achitophel the mantle of Elias but the hypocrisie of Judas thou hast fidelity in thy wordes but impurity in thy deeds a heaven in thy mouth but a hell in thy heart and though thou do'st prosper while blinded man adores thee yet thou shalt perish when God shall come to judge thee It is not thy smooth language nor thy Syrean tongue can take in Heavens eares no 't is not a painted face nor a garment of gold that dazeleth Christs eyes that did delude the yong man that Solomon entitles foole Prov. 7 vers 8. 'T is thy heart that God pondereth and as the Sunne of Heaven will show thee the foulenesse of the house so the Sonne of glory with his all descerning eye will soone discover the blacknesse of the heart though to the world thou seemest a piece of purity a flash of fidelity a gloriou star a glittring spheare yet to Heavens eye thou wilt appeare but an Heire of Hell a childe of darkenesse a servant of sinne a sonne of shame and thou that hast so often deluded others in thy life shalt deceive thy self at thy death and thy departing soule shall but exchange misery for mortallity though by thy actions the deluded world shall thinke thou art transported into glory And shall our story have a period heere And shall wee vaile our subject with a blanck Shall wee present to the Reader the black and darke night and draw a Curtaine before the shining day Shall wee discover the barren branches that are in the Vineyard and wrap a black cloud about the lofty flourisht Vine No though many have the marke of the Beast yet some are loyall to the Lambe though there bee thousands doe bow their knees to Baall Yet there is a remnant doe humble their hearts to heaven though there bee a seed of falling Adam yet there is a generation of faithfull Abraham though many are not Israelits yet all are not Sodomites among the thousands that shall perish there is a remnant that shall flourish whose united beauty shall make one glorious body And this is shee that looketh forth as the Morning faire as the Moone cleare as the Sunne terrible as an Army with Banners Cantie 6. vers 10. whose heroicke heads looke higher then this inferior World who are not drowned in the dirt of earth but watered with the dew of Heaven who are not branches of infamy but clusters layd up to inherite glory And indeed believerâ— you have done well while you have made so faire a choyce though you suffer here a little paine hereafter you shall have endlesse pleasure though ye have had a time of heavinesse ye shall have heereafter eternall happynesse though ye have had tokens of infamy yee shall bee adorned with Robes of glory though you have beene acquainted with the terrour of the Crosse yee shall bee required with the glory of the Crowne Alas how momentany are the pleasures of the World What is heere to bee desired Nay rather what is there not heere that may well be quickly loathed Is it honour That is but a blast that will deceive thee Is it dignity That is but a dreame that will delude thee Is it beauty That is but a shaddow that will inslave thee Is it credit That is but flattery that will befoole thee Is it wealth That will take wings and quickly flye from thee Come then let us get up early in the Vineyards Let us see if the Vine flourish if the tender Grapes appeare or the Pomgranats bud forth Can. 2. I am sure if the hand that planted you did not protect you your fruit would bee blasted and your blossome would bee withered How soone would your honour turne to disgrace your credit to shame your beauty into vanity your affection to delusion your winde of wealth to a weather-cock of woe your full sea of plenty to an ebbing tide of poverty Did not the Vine flourish How soone would you poore branches perish Did not the head finde power to stand how soone would you the weaker members fall I thinke the World can better subsist without the Sunne then you without a Saviour if the Sunne were gone would not the forsaken Universe put on a mantle of mourning Would not the World returne to her first confused Chaos Would not all our Chariot wheeles drive on heavily Would not our actions prosper slowly The Philosophers say wee are beholding to the Sunne for all secondary causes and Divines affirme wee are ingaged to our Saviour for his secret cares while you bring forth the fruits of the spirit which is not Rebellion but Humiliation not expressions
Come guide my winged houres and hurle me from my throne Man Why was I borne or being borne Oh why Did I not weep one houre and die Ah me What torments doe attend us while we see The Sun how short a time have we Phoebus although thy Chariot makes away So fast and will admit of no delay Yet lend more hours to the year or minutes to the day Death Drive on dull Phoebus drive away my bow Is bent and thou dost flye too slow Drive on againe or by my unknowne power I le blast the glory of this flower Time Stay death thou caust not strike the blow til I Shall say amen Death Yes Phoebus if thou hie Thee not away this Lamp shall soone drop downe and die Time Black monarch of the shades curb in thy heeles Awhile attend my Chariot wheeles Death I cannot for thy beames are too too high The shades adorne my blacke browd eye I le cut this flower away and then retire To the dark groves Time wherefore dost thou desire To eclipse so bright a star and quench so fair a fire Death Thy glasse exceeds her hower it ha's too long To run thou dost me too much wrong I le strike the blow Time Cut not this flowre away For as I am the god of day And sonne to high borne Jove who taught me how To guide my wandring Orb I 'le make thee bow Thy Pride when next thou furrowest up our brow Time Poore man thy time is short indeed alas There 's but a little in thy Glasse But yet thou shalt not dye awhit before 'T is out nor live a minute more My fiery horse are hot and wondrous proud I can scarce rule the Reines but must go shrowd My head and leave thee wrapt within a sable cloud The sixth SOLILOQUIE COme huffling gallaÌ„ts of the times draw near lay downe your sallow Garlands by you and the thing you call honour and let your eyes behold our subject let it pull downe your imperious necks and strike your top sailes let it give to vertue constancy to prophanesse penitency to the proud man humility But gallants you are not sad me thinks you looke too well as if you should live eternally on earth or had an everlasting inheritance in Heaven as if you could coÌ„mand the horses of Time or stop the golden Chariot of the day what comlinesse is in your spots of complexion what righteousnesse in your choicesâ— Recreation what goodnesse is in the great mans gallantry what beauty in the proud mans bravery what glory in the Covetous mans gold oâ— what great ratity in the spend thrifts prodigality how wavering are your words how deluding are your deeds how disloyall is your love how inconstant is your care how weake are your desires to Heaven how strong doe you doat upon the earth how poore is your evidence of immortality yet how richly doe you flourish in the garbe of worlds glory And yet poore man what art thou but a walking shaddow a piece of moviâ—g earth a gliding flash a blasted flower an inch of mortality that art travelling to eternity whose wisedome is but folly whose strength is inability whose grace is impurity whose comlinesse deformity whose substance is sinne whose glory is thy shame take man in his best time and he is but a piece of vanity looke on him in a full Sea of plenty or an ebbing tide of poverty in the bloome of age or the blossome of youth and this piece of earth is but a debter to Heaven and this handfull of dust hath but a handfull of daies in which he is as restlesse as the Sunne as various as the Moone as wavering as the windes as unconstant as the Cloudes as dissembling as the Seas as foule as earth as flashy as the fire and as fickle as the Aire and having acted his part upon this transitory stage death strikes the Epilogue and the play is done and notwithstanding all his dignity he must lye downe and dye For all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flowre of grasse Ladies for in your Ivory hands my Booke may sometimes be here 's a glasse for you not to represent your beauty but to discover your frailty not to shew you how to deck your heads but to tell you how to adorne your hearts not to learne ye how in curiosity to set your imbroydred haires but in true penitency how to drown your wanton eyes What mean's your cloathes perfumed with so many savours your Apothecaries shop of sundry salves your new sangled braveries you boxes of beauties your wavering affections your wanton Recreations look in your glasse see if pride be not inthroned on your majestick browes and if your bravery be set off with any thing else but vanity t is only vanity and nothing else but vanity which dances upon your plumes as your feathers fanne the aire What will you doe when death shall summon you to eternity when sicknesse with her ashy hand shall sweep the colour from your cheeks when your stript off bravery shall discover your deformity and you shall resemble earth when you shall lay downe your ornaments of beauty by you when the dismall Ew and the flattring Ivy shall grow about your graves and Time shall pusse away the remembrance of your glory Ladies did I but know the scope of your desire as your singing Master knowes your skill in an aire I could teach your eyes to weepe faster then hee your fingers to play and fit you as well with a sight as the Musition with a Song but being a stranger to your Sex I forbeare onely thus much bee as vertuous as faire that you may bee the glory of our dayes and that your names may flourish in after Ages Instead of love and loves delusion go spend some houres in divine contemplation instead of the Poetry of Ovid read the Piety of David instead of the falsenesse of beautious Absolon follow the faithfullnesse of blessed Abraham instead of the love of Philasten read the life of Francis Spira behold the ruines of Edonezedick King of Jerusalem of Korah Dathan and Ahiram of Nadab and Abihu the sonnes of Aaron of Hoham King of Hebron of acursed Miriam and Apostate Julian these had all the glory of nature and were famous in the World yet were they lost in a confused Chaos shunne therefore their pride that yee bee not ruined with their plague let your love bee without disloyalty your faithfullnesse without formallity your fashions without foolery and your beauty without bravery so shall your names flourish by the Poets pen and live till time shall bee no more so shall yee bee adored for your goodnesse more then honoured for your greatnesse and famed for your grace more then feared for your glory so shall your inward excellency exceede your outward bravery and your perfumed rarities smell sweeter then your Conserves of Roses Come hither deluded Lover that findest no felicity but in thy Mistresse company and hast placed thy
then thou among the rest of those dreadfull Comets appointed for horrour shalt fry for ever in this unquenchable fiery Chaos But here 's good newes now for thee that art prepared to dye thou poore soule that standest upon thy watch tower expecting the dawning of the day thou sayest my Love he dwells in Heaven that hath Captivated my heart with the glory of his Graces before whom I offer up my hourly oblations with silent teares from these my weeping eyes but sure he regards me not but leaves me here as a monument of misery or an object of the worlds soorne remember poore soule All flesh is grasse and grasse you know hath no long continuance on the ground believe me thou shalt shortly goe thou mayst heare thy beloved almost every day telling thee thy time is but short and thou shalt ere long be transpoâ—ted to eternity thou mayest heare his sweet voice to charme thine eares though thou canst not see his face to wound thy heart thou receivest love-Letters from him but yet thou canst not see him for this wall of flesh doth stand between but ere long it shall be taken downe that you may enter together in Communion and talke of the time of trouble that you may inherit eternall joyes while your eyes shoot equall flames that you may ravish in the sweetest embraces and lose your selves in love And further by these my sonne be admonished of making many bookes there is no end and much study is a wearinesse of the flesh Let us heare the conclusion of the whole matter Feare God and keep his Commandements for this is the whole duty of man Eccles 12. vers 12 13. I. ALas and is this all come spur away My Muse and let 's have done before the day Be downe let 's leave the Helliconian springs And sacred Delphice let our untuned stringe Be screw'd up higher yet untill our eares Can counterfeit the Musique of the spheares Then drown your selves no more this glorious prize Is given free the purchase cannot rise From floods of flowing teares no more my wearied eyes II. But does the Crowne of high immortall glory Arch his victorious browes that keeps this story True Yea and his undefiled soule shall shine Like Stars of the first magnitude divine And glorious ornaments he shall weare And sit inthroned above the hemisphere In a garb of purest gold this is the same That Heaven Will honour and his honored name Shal live and rise up higher then the trump of fame III. Foole that I was because the verse was soone Read o're I thought 't was easily done But thou O Lord that mad'st this little span Of earth must recollect poore uncollected man Keepe thy commands O Lord Is it not more Then all the World can doe am I before Them all Oh drown these unregenerate eyes that shine Too cleare that I may offer to thy shrine A shower of teares for every drop of blood of thine IV. Oh I am lost how shall poore I aspire Thine Altar Without diviner fire Whose hallowed smoake may make a sacred fume Before thy throne Ah how dare I presume To come Thou shalt have power from above I le be thy Lord and thou shalt be my Love Onely confesse thy sinnes and I le adorne Thy brow with beauty teach thee how to scorne The World and make thee fairer then the fairest morne V. Well then my honoured Lord I le come and trye To tread the path of immortality Oh that my wandring eyes could see the way That I might travell to it every day Where once arrived our lips shall strike up loves Alarmes in the blest hallowed Groves Doe soule shun death for earth is transitory True Lord But shall I if I keep this story Live I 'le give thee life wrapt in immortall glory VI. Too soone I wandred in an unknowne way Till I was almost lost had not the day Star rise to guide my wandring Orbe for all My power I had stoop'd to the imperiall thrall Of some temptation which had cryed aloud To Heaven and left me in a sable Cloud I knew not then to whom I could repaire To have one houre of ease but now my care Being past I 'le put a period to a well-tun'd aire The last SOLILOQUIE Or The Authours Farewell THE day breakes glorious in our darkened Orbe t is an illustrious morne cleare up my glimmering eyes Ah me now I see how much I was abused I wondred indeed the way to Heaven should be so hard and that such extremity should lye in the path to immortality alas I was befool'd it is not care can conquer a kingdome nor industry winne the Crowne of glory it is not heavinesse that workes holinesse nor holinesse that merits happinesse nor can the price of labour purchase the Palace of Love I wonder not now why the skilfull Astronomer has beene misguided by his star and why the fancies of the Learned Poets have been befool'd alas can ingenuity merit eternity no t is love t is love that unlocks the gate of glory Poore man where is thy power now that with thy triangle heart invelopest the water buildest Castles in the aire backest the windes devourest the earth and sometimes darest Heaven yet when thou commest to trye thy force a feather will scarce wag at thy fury alas though thou crawlest thou canst not climbe though by thy feare thou mayest rule on earth yet without Faith thou shalt not Raigne in Heaven though by thy policy thou mayest comprehend all things yet by thy power thou canst command nothing Hence let your wing'd battlements grapple goe vaile your transitory glory let your dignity lye downe and dye let him that has the most rarity study humility and be like a monument cut out of marble let the Astrologer put no confidence in Astronomy nor the Naturalist study curiosity let the learning of the Law be turned to the language of love and yet let the sweet lipt Orator lay downe his Rhetorick and plead no more it is not the language of learning nor a life of labour nor ingenuity nor sidelity nor greatnesse nor gallantry nor profit nor pleasure nor glory nor honour it is not a garment of gold nor a lofty looke nor the charming tongue nor the inchanting eye nor the fairest face nor the heroick heart nor the conquering arme that can win heaven no these doe but chaine thee to the world and hinders the soule from climbing up the Ladded to his Joy I should rather looke for heat in painted fire then think to finde ability in the creature I should rather believe the winde comes but to fanne us with a gentle gale when Eolus unlocks his blustering Gates and rocks the world in a tempestuous storme or that the Cloudes doe but shade us from the flaming Chariot of the Sunne when by their thundering noises they seeme to crack the Axeltrees of the World and by their dismall darknesse banish out the day or that the Sea when he furrows up