pray and thou not heare O powêrfull charme the very name could moue Both the effects of pardon and of loue That euerlasting goodnesse which long since Had razd the memôry of hir former sinnes And those blacke characters which hir true tears Had for thespace of seuen and forty years washt with vnwearied streames not pleasd that she whose life t'all sinners might a comfort be And had so pleasëd his eternal eye Vnknowne vnhonourd in those shades should dye Pointed out of his all fore-seeing care A graue old moncke his wonders to declare A glorious father Zozimus his name In goodnesse great great in desert and fame And who perhaps much greater might haue been Had he been lesse in his owne greatnesse seen Poore man already he seemd euen to play On vertu's green and to haue won the day Sings ioyful Paeans gloryes in his years Growne hoary in long pennance and appears That desart's onely sunne in his owne sight Whence yonger saints receaued a borrôwed light Vnwise for whiles he snatcheth at a crowne Which might ere long haue iustly been his owne He falles thinkes darknesse light falles stil and euen As he is falling thinkes he mounts to heauen So when our Northern Tine swelles ore the strands Planing the fatal foard with both the lands Some daring traueller spurres on enragd Nor sees the perill til too far ingagd Measûring his owne life by the sea-like streames Too late alas intrapt twixt two extreames He doubtful pauseth if he forward presse The danger 's great should he turne backe not lesse Mean time pale fear his better sence bereaues And fiercer currant his weake eye deceaues For stil borne downe by it's resistlesse force Stil dreames he rides too high his wiser horse Bears strongly with the streame but toyles in vain His maister maisters him some-one amaine Whoopes from the shoare Bear vp Bear vp he hears But false eyes trusts more then his truer ears Til swept away by the remorselesse flood H 'is lost and makes it 's fatal sir-name good Such or much worse might haue been Zozims end Had he not heard à farre more powêrful friend Who through the organs of a whistling wind In aéry sounds thus check't his aery mind Many as aâged more holy and lesse proud Their vertues in this sacred desart shrowd Flye therefore hence and leaue the place in which Pride and self-loue thy better thoughts bewitch A Conuent neere the bankes of Iordan stands Not great in circuit or extent of lands But great in sanctity ther seeke and find The cüre of a self-delighted mind His eyes are opend and his sin appears More great augmented by insuing fears For what can now secürehim who fel Thinking himself in heauen as deepe as Hel He falles as lowe as he had soard too high Anthaeus-like resuming strength there by For whiles he prostrat cleaues t' his mother earth By blazôning in it's molde his baser birth He riseth stronger then he was before Lesse in his owne eye but in god 's much more And takes his iourney guided by that hand Which earst when Abram left his natiue land His house and friends was with him in his way And held him least he from truth's path should stray A witherd sticke his trembling iointes sustaines Whiles wandring through vast woodes and vaster plaines Stil from aboue imploring light and grace He seekes neere Iordan the desired place Which where the riuer straitned twixt two hilles The hanging cliffes with hollowe ecchoes shrilles He found at last a Conuent of smal showe Yet well contriued the walles and roafe both lowe No gluring outside no art's new deuise Of curious worldlings to allure the eyes No path but one and that but litle vsd Which brought our zozim in himself confusd At such retyrednesse to one onely gate It opening from within there weake he sate With griefe and toyle his former life now blames And these poore monkes thrice happy he proclaimes Whose inward sanctitye he quickly guest By What their outward solitude exprest Thus humbled in himself he knockes with fear As one not worthy to find entrance there The porter hauing eyed him through the grate Informes his Prelat of his forme and state He strait descending in the entry meets The stranger whom imbracing thus he greets Welcom graue father what could we deserue Vnworthy seruants of him whom you serue That you should visit vs here poore beginners Il mortifyêd and halfe-conuerted sinners Zozim abasht bends his brim-swelling eyes Downe to the earth and sighing thus replyes I seek perfectiôn here growne old in pride O take me for his sake who for such dyed The Abbot glad receaues him there he liues With saints a saint and disinchanted giues Not now t' himself but to those holy syres Vertue 's full prayse sees in them and admires Their patiênce zeale humilitye profound Raysd by pure rapts aboue the starry round Nimble obedience charitye in al Whose charter warrants it shal neuer fal Al things wel-orderd and in the quyer Perpetual vigils harmonye and prayer But winter now declining had begun To feele the powër of a warmer sun And Febrüarye old praepard to yeeld To springing Marche the honour of the field Wensday the first of clensing dayes appeares When the whole Conuent to one roome repaird And hauing crau'd assistance from aboue Came forth in vnity in peace in loue Praepard to crosse the riuer as each year In this blest season they accustomd were To keep lent silent nor to meete agen Til the renewing of the sacred Cene The gate as loathe to part with such loud ghests It's griefe in th' opening with lowd groanes attests whiles matching downe to Iordan the whole quyêr In order sings this psalme led by the Priour Psalme 26. HEnce fear our lord 's my safety and my light My life s protector what shal me affright Whiles bad men on me rusht my flesh to teare My foes who vext me fell and weakened were Opposed Campes my courage shall not quell In battle strong here fixt my hopes shal dwel One thing I 'ue askt our lord this I 'le request That in his house I all my dayes may rest That I his ioyes may view and temple blest For he hath kept me in his sanctuâry in It 's closest vaults safe from the dayes of sin H' ath reard me on the rock and plac't me out Of foe's reache in his house I 'ue romd about Offring an hoaste of clamour I will sing And say a psalme to heauen's aeternal king My voyce o lord to thee loud-crying hear Haue mery on me and to me giue ear To thee my heart spake thee mine eyes desire To thee o lord I euer will aspire Turne not nor in thy wrath decline thy face From me thy seruant help me with thy grace Oh doe not leaue nor sleight me in thy scorne My saûiour and my God for me forlorne My parents both haue left but thou didst take Compassion on me Lord vnto me make A law in thy way and the
The smiling flood begins to marche thereon As t' were firme land euen as the blushing sun Droopt in the west as shamd to shew his beames Whiles a more glorious sun shind on those streames Yet at the wonder he his head inclines And with dewe reuerence his place resignes The waues the while more smooth and softly â—leet Playing soft musicke to her naked feet Which forc't by vpper streames to part they kisse And murmure as robd of their greatest blisse Yet least their stand might fright her they restraine Their owne zeal hasting gladly to the maine Zozim more sencelesse then the sencelesse waues For they were vsed to such wonders raues And at the miracle amazed stands But as he would haue kneeld vpon the sands She now approaching to the hither side Thus with a loud voyce from the waters cryed Father will you t'a creature kneel forbear Who in your handes the al-creator bear The monke obayes nor dare infringe her will Which th' elements themselues ioy to fullfill She landing kneeles and kneeling humbly sayes Blesse me o father blesse me he displayes His wondring handes to heauen oh blessed be Our God the God of truth whose workes we see Neuer belye his wordes he promise made And verifyes in thee what then he sayd That all such as their soules from sin would clear Like to himself in greatnesse should appear Glory to thee my lord and sauiour who By this thine handmayd hast giuen me to know How far I was from true perfection when I thought my self oh foole the best of men But she whose famisht soule breaths purest fyers Humbled in presence of her God desyers The father in his office to proceed Saying the Pater and Apostles Creed With trembling handes he warily vnfolds The sacred hoast and to her full view holds Th' assisting angels to the place repayre Commanding silence to the whispering ayre Which now affoardes but sparingly such breath As might preserue th' inhabitants from death Those blessed spirits with mild horrours shrinke And at the presence of their maker sinke In loue 's abysse admiring with glad shame A sinner's soule fiêrd with a greater flame And more intense then theirs whiles she with tears Arming her breast against it's pious fears Swimming in feruour and loue's sweetest sweetes With opend mouth her great redeemer meetes The spheres stood stil whiles heauen and earth amazd With awful silence and high wonder gazd Vpon her rauisht soule all motions cease Fearful to interrupt her mind's sweet peace Whiles she possest of her rich obiect feedes On pleasure which all words al thought exceedes And now fore-seeing her long-wished end To be at hand her thoughts with feruour tend To ioyes eternal and inspired tongue Swan-like repeats part of old Simeon's song Now thou thy seruant doest dismisse o Lord In peace according to thy blessed word For mine eyes thy saluation haue seen Here she brake of and rising from the green Proud of it's burden thus to Zozim spake Yet father I haue one request to make Which you must not denye me take the paines A year hence to reuisit those wild plaines Where first we met for by th' old torrent where We held discourse together this last year You once againe shal see me if you please As t' is long since decreed now goe in peace Can saints deceaue then how her self knowes wel But pittying his iust grief forbears to tel Whiles he her words and meaning both mistakes And 's greatest misery his comfort makes With glad tears he replyes the heauens best know How willingly I now would with thee goe And euer feed vpon that soule of thine In which all things be heauenly and diuine But earth must not be heauen yet ere I leaue Thy gratious sight disdain not to receaue This slender portion which sayd he vncasd His litle burden and before her placd The choyce of his prouision forth she stretcht Her humble hand and to her blest mouth reacht A grain or two of lentel and no more For grace she said her food was and best store But her high-mounting thoughts il brooke delayes And parting she the doleful father prayes Not to forget her wants with streaming eyes He to her dear feet cleaues and throbbing cryes Pray for the holy church the empyre and For me who most in need of your help stand Longer he would but dares not her detaine Whom to importune he knew t' was in vaine Loath he departs ah litle dreaming then Neuer to see those saintlike eyes agen Whiles she makes haste backe to the longing wood Walking vpon the once more happy flood Ah man what art thou whose tho God-like mind Yet reeles and waues with euêry litle wind The worlds the tennis-court thou art the ball Now with a lofty bound now lowly fall Twixt chance and passion tost nor old nor yong Blest with a setled fortune neuer long Nor twice together pleasd for following woes Stil with distaste thy few good minuts close If perfect men euen in ambitions which Tend to sole goodnesse passion can bewitch What may those wretches hope whose loue is sin Where shal their bad dayes end or good begin There ioy is misery their best hopes Hell Where fetterd by their owne base choyce they dwell He whose high-flying soule breaths purest flames And onely at eternal obiects aymes His heart in vndeserued sorrow steepes And for a mortal creature's absence weeps Yet much at his owne weakenesse he repines With multy-plyëd actes his will resignes Labours against the streame and striues in vaine Self-seeking sence and nature to restraine For goodnesse no lesse powerful is to moue Then beautye eyther passiön or loue Humbled he ponders man's vnsetled state And at his owne much wonders who so late Did with such zeale to her blest sight aspire Sorrow now springing from fullfilld desire Hereby instructed that mans spatious mind Can not within frayle circles be confind But as first from eternall orbes it came So nothing can content it but the same Home he retournes and in a silent celle Immutes those eyes disdaining now to dwell On earthly obiects hauing seen the best Which that world's age could boast of and most blest There he his thoughts on ioyes eternall bent Oft rectyfying his oft crost intent And when his soule with heauinesse opprest Would some times interrupt his bodye's rest His thoughts he to the wildernesse would send Wingd messengers to his all knowing friend Crauing her prayërs not in fact doth erre Though much he seeme t'a crêature to deferre And more mistake her dwelling she his tears Both sees and pittyes from the vpper spheres More pious now then euer and obtaines The mind's peace he desired and happy gaines Not dreaming whence whereby that year he spends In comforts great and stil to greater tends The long-exspected day appeard at last When he not mindlesse of his promise past Ouer the Iordan and with hasty pace The next way tooke to the appointed place Deluding hopes his boyling fancyes fyêr And all
A SACRED POEME DESCRIBING THE MIRACVLOVS LIFE AND DEATH OF THE GLORIOVS CONVERT S. MARIE OF AEGIPT Who passed fortie seauen yeares in the desarts leading a penitentiall life to the astonishment of all succeeding ages Plerumque gratior est Deo feruens post culpam vita quam securitate torpens innocentia D. Greg. THE ARGVMENT OF THE POEM FROM APPROVED AVTHORS MARY THE AEGIPTIAN being but 12. yeares old left her Parents and came to Alexandria where for 17 yeares she prostituted her selfe to insatiable lust And to allure more to her company exposed on free cost to their pleasure mayntayning her self in the meane time by begging and spinning of wool It hapned that many sailed to Hierusalem to celebrate the festiuity of the exaltation of the Holy Crosse whither she also trauelled not out of piety but to gaine new associats to her sensual delights And now arriued euen at the gates of the Temple the rest continually entring she alone strangely suffred repulse Which hauing 3. or 4. times susteyned at length she vnderstood that for her sinnes she was deemed vnworthy to behold the holy Crosse Wherefore seriously touched with compunction and prostrate before an Image of the Blessed Virgin she implored her aide that with the rest she might behold honor that sacred Instrument of our Redēption promising from that time neuer to contaminate her self with luxurious impurities Then assaying to enter she found no stoppage as before but like the sea rowling forward the waues the multitude impelle her into the Temple There according to her desire hauing honoured the sanctified wood she returned to the place where formerly she had made her promise to the Blessed Virgin And a voice from heauen directed her how she should dispose of her self for the glory of God and her eternal behoof Whervpon taking with her three loaues of course bread she hastned to the wildernes and there for the space of 47. yeares liued in such austerity as she neither beheld man nor liuing creature confining her self to the presence of God and his Angels her sole spectators her loaues after lōg tract of time being spent she for 17. yeares sustained her feeble body with hearbs onely rootes her garments rotting falling from her she was long so afflicted with winters cold and scortching heats of that clymate as often fainting void of breath she layd on the ground destitute of sense motion For the first 17. yeares after her entrance into the wildernes she was assayled with vgly and violent temptations but through diuine assistance still victorious To conclude after a wonderful and most penitential life interseasoned with diuine consolations Zozimas a blessed Monk coming into that part of the desart found her out and ministred vnto her the B. Sacrament on the Euening of Maundy Thursday and after spiritual conference with her departed the yeare following vpon her appointment returning he found her deceased in a caue whither a lyon then approaching digged vp a graue in which with teares prayers she was interred by Zozimas The Romane Martyrologe and Vsuard recount her day the 2. of Aprill The Grecians in their Menaloge obserue it the day before Nicephorus lib. 7. cap. 5. affirmeth her life to haue been written by Sophronius Bishop of Hierusalem The same is cited in the 2. Councell of Nice And by St. Iohn Damascen orat 3. de Imag and translated into Latine by Paul Diacon Neopoleas is extant in vitis Patrum it was also composed in verse by Hyldebrand Episc. Senon and by Bonad Santon lib. 3. Monad 29. and others She liued about the yeare of Christ 520. in the time of Iustine the elder THE MIRACVLOVS LIFE OF S. MARIE OF AEGIPT MARY of Aegypt's life I sing and crimes To no lesse guilty much more hardned times Smile truth and ye who both by choyce and name O happy may so great a patron clayme Great in hir loosenesse greater in restraint A wondrous sinner a more wondrous saint If my weake muse long nurst in wanton lore Led by a better choice then t' was before Blest soule thy prayses chante oh see and loue The first fruites of hir pennance from aboue Direct hir flight whiles she thy trophyes sings And impe new feathers to hir tainted wings Christs faithful spouse which long had groand opprest By hell-bred Arriâns swarming in the east After th' amazement of that horrid night Was now restored to hit wonted light By Iustin namd the Elder fears were past And wicked errour by faire truth displast The Church inioyed an vniuersal peace Praysing the giuer so when loud stormes cease The merchant safe paves on the calmer shore Such thankefull vowes as he had made before The now free temples through the cittye were Throngd by al sortes of people psalmes each where With hymnes of ioy are shrilld by euéry tongue And loud TE-DEVM'S by the Clergy sung The noyse rings through the ayre a pleasing sound And there receaud doth with new ioy rebound From th' ecchôing angels to th' allmighty's ears Who pleased with their zeale from starre-crownd spheres Viewing the citty and imperial throne Of great Byzantium approues what 's don Thence Eastward twining his all-seeing eyes The sacred land of palestine surueyes No regiön so forcibly inuites His mild aspect no ayre so much delights For there 's his garden there those happy groaues Where first he stoopt o strange to mortal loues There Caluarye showerd with aeternal blood There Sion Oliuet and Iordans flood There Nazareth Bethlem powerfullye arrest His heauenlye eye and oh aboue the rest Here him a band of liuing saints inuites Poore Thred-bare monkes to grace their pious tites Th' almighty's self their burning zeal admires Their many altars and perpetual quyers Their close retired walkes their silent celles Their lowely cloysters and farre distant welles So suncke of purpose that their drinke and meate Might aequally be purchast with their sweat For they their food seeke in the open fields Or eate the croppe which their owne labour yeelds Here contemplation without noyse or strife Inioyes it's peace mixt with the actiue life Whiles Mary sighing swimmes in pious teares Laborious Marthe hir burden gladly beares For loue both sisters in one bond vnites Shares aequally their labours and delights The world 's great Ruler playes his part the whiles Addes flame to flames and at their feruour smiles Yet no one soule could fixe with more delight Th' almighty's eye then that poore naked wight Which howling from the desart with Loud cryes And doleful clamours rent the iniurd skyes Groueling on earth hir eyes bathd in warme streames Hir witherd armes parcht with Sol's fyêry beames Stretcht at their length the rest a naked coarse In hoary tresses clad with zealous force She beates at heauens bright gates and strong in faith Vrgeth hir pardon and hir pardon hath Haue mercy lord the worst of sinners prayes Mercy my god forget my damnëd dayes For hir deare sake whose blessed name I beare Ah can a Mary
prone will to dwel on those sad plaines His hands with streaming eyes to heauen he liftes And magnifyîng his maker in his guifts Who had discouerd that rich mine of grace To him sad sinner homewards twines his face Much pondring her strict life much her great merit But most the guift of that al-knowing spirit Which to her deiformed soule împarts Thoughts hidden and deepe folds of mortal harts T' was holy weeke the fathers meet agen To celebrate at home their yearly cene Which hauing solemnizd in open qûyer All silent to their long-voyd celles retyre Zozim at leasure here begins to muse Vpon his late aduenture and renewes The memory of al things as they past Her sinnes her age strict pennance and long fast Summons his senses chiefly eyes and ears For their free passage full impression bears Both of her forme and wordes to lend him ayde Whiles his attentiue soule a briefe had made Of all her wordes and graces he the while At euêry tear of hirs each litle smile Makes a full period reuiewes her face Each lineament thereof each heauenly grace And of these parcells frames one perfect whole Which he ingraues deepe in his tender soule Nay now begins t' esteeme and much to make Of his owne soule euen for the model's sake Pigmalion-like but with a happyêr flame Doating vpon th' imaginary frame Of his owne brayne for wise the whole referres To that great workman whose hand neuer erres Where it would goodnesse paint nor can his s'kill Fayle him whose pencil is his onely will Nor wondreth Zozim now that libêrall heauen Had such perfections to a creâture giuen But mindful of the maker learns to sleight The shallow and vnfinisht counterfeit Of that eternal prototype which had This rare piece to his owne resemblance made Whose incrëated beauty he admires And happy burnes in more then mortal fyers Blest sinner whose sole memory can moue All creatures to their great creators loue So powerfull is goodnesse to whose flame None can approach but must burne with the same The best effect of friendship which to none But saints nor euen to these is alwayes known Thrice happy was our Zozimas to chuse So blest a friend but happyêr in the vse He made thereof for as all things appear More great in her through fauour then they were So through the glasse of pious hatred he His owne offences trebled seemes to see For by how much her worth he ouer-rates So much or more he of his owne abates Much he admires her life her goodnesse much But more himself blames that hee is not such Oh who not enuyes this his blessed state Happy to merit both by loue and hate Hence he to such supreme perfection growes That it it-self with admiration showes To the whole closter whiles he onely blind Sees not that light which in his owne soule shind To th' eyes of al men and though he conceale The cause thereof th' effects themselues reueale In euêrye act of his nor rest'es it here Too great to be confind the spatious spere Of one man's soule too smal to comprehend So great a flame is forc't it self t' extend Dilating that resistlesse fyêr which burnes Al obiects near and its owne substance turnes The conuent now or rather eûery celle Might seeme a heauen where blest saints onely dwell The elders marke with wonder-strocken eyes Such reformation without their aduice And with more dewe respects learn to deferre To hîm whose good examples powêrful were To make all others good for none despairs T' attaine to that perfection which he shares The perfectest themselus more perfect grow And now by more than speculation know That goodnesse in a creature hath no â—nd Whence to a greater good it may not tend Whiles thus a heauenly life on earth they liue And their thoughts wholy to perfection giue Their rauisht soules fixt in a higher sphere Marke not the alterd seasons of the year Nor lower orbes and euer poasting sun Which litle lesse than his full race had run And by his absence left the colder clyme Stormd once more with long frosts so swiftly time Runs with the saints and in deuotion spent Til warned now by near approaching lent And by long custome taught they ready made To passe the Iordan to the gloomy shade Of vnfrequented woods the blest aboades Of liuing saints and long since beaten roades By elder Hermits whiles the rest prepare For their departure Zozim's onely care Casts how to keep touch with his saint-like friend Whom if he past the flood he could not tend As he had promist gladly would doe both And to infringe their statuts he is loth Nor would perhaps be sufferd this his doubt A feauer clears which ere the rest went out Forc't him to lye and at his bodye's cost His mind from scruple freed his iourney crost Where now remembring how she parting sayd Whither he would or not he should be stayd Taught by experience her wordes beleeues And at his owne â—…o slender faith much grieues Yet comforted in that he well-knowes she Who so long since this sicknesse could foresee Would not forget to pray for him remits All to the will of heauen ere long his fittes Not causd by any naturall excesse But by the hand of God himself grew lesse And quickly left him free from al disease His mind and body both in sweetest peace Expecting that not long-deferd delight Which both were to partake in her blest sight The wished daye breakes to his longing eyes He hastes to that vnbloody sacrifice Which glads the heauens and earth the quicke and dead And pixing part of that eternal bread Which mindful of his holy penitent He careful had reserud to this intent Downe to the Iordan swimming in glad tears His God and maker in his weake handes bears And full of hope in the appointed place Expects to see her long-desired face Much wondring that she was not yet arriud Much doubting least himself had misconceiud The place agreed on and begins to fear Least she had comd before and mist him there Then to his present God recurres for ayde And prostrat on his face with feruour prayd My Lord and God who this pure soule didst frame To the eternal honour of thy name Since t' was thy will and ordinance diuine That I at first found this choyce friend of thine Oh let me once more haue the blisse to see The creature which hath so much pleased thee Let me not frustrat of my hopes retourne My sinnes my shame and iust repulse to mourne In empty celles This sayd his watry eyes Sends to the woods alas those feeble spyes Retourne bad newes for hauing markt the flood It's channel deep betwixt them and the wood Propound a new doubt not conceiud before How she should passe vnto the hither shoar No boate in sight but this doubt 's quickly cleard When she vnto his hopelesse eyes appeard Like to a new sun rising on the strand And signing with her wonder-working hand
speed seemes more slack than his desier He runs and runing thinkes his feet but slow Not dreaming to what misery they goe And who knowes would he say but that she stayes Expecting me and for my coming prayes For saints their longings haue t' was true he sayd She for their euerlasting meeting prayd Arriud he strait sends forth his busye spyes Hoping to see those long-since-closed eyes Too bright for earth to looke on They by chance In their retourne vpon a small caue glance Which in the maine rocke by no mortal taught Nature art's Mistrisse curiously had wrought And in the natiue stone had framd a doore Two lights aboue beneath a pummizd flooer Stord with a pleasant fountaine fruite and shade Which to the spring a goodly palme tree made His heart with ioy beates and his willing feet Run their supposed happinesse to meet For t' was a place which he with reason ghest Heauen had prepard for such a heauenly guest Enterd he findes her kneeling with a face Which yet retaind it's former zeale and grace Tho motion lesse depriud of sence and breath The sweetest picture that erê grac't pale death Here first seen smiling her ioynd hands applyed T'a crucifix which in the rockes maine side Her bodkin had not without forme designd Tho much lesse perfect than it in her mind The monke admires her zeal and loath to break Her soules imagind rapt forbears to speake But his impatient ears grudge that delight Bad councellors which onely blest his sight And longing to inioy her heauenly voyce Their maister vrge first with some litle noyse Of bootelesse sighes then in a louder tone As from a soule much suffering to groane All fayling to her keye-cold feet he creepes Where with good cause tho yet vnknown he weepes Too hasty lippes ah whiles you kisse you kill And guiltlesse heart with deadly horrors thrill Yet lipps may erre his handes must also feele Those sacred soales as cold as starke as steel Stiff were her handes her nostrils without breath All certain tokens of a certaine death His sorrow is too great to find a vent With drye eyes on that doleful obiect bent He stands more sencelesse than the sencelesse stone The growing rocke had some life he had none And life-lesse might to this day haue remaind Had not her pure soule of her spouse obtaind That her bare corpse exposd to open view Might by his means receaue it 's mortal dew Heauen his lost senses to their place restores And he his misery in words deplores Which no pen can expresse but most he grieues That he expressely sent as he beleeues To leaue her story and immortal fame To after-times had not inquir'd her name For it through chance or rather hidden fate He had forgot to aske she to relate A new doubt how to bury her expelles The former and her blessed name reueales For whiles he seekes some toole to breake the ground Her name her age and dying day he found In Syrian characters scord on the sand Eyther by angels or her owne pure hand Hereby he learnes that she had closd her dayes Twelue whole moneths since and yet would think she prayes Such sweet deuotion in her face appears And long-closd lids had he not mist their tears For their dryed channels in her much worne face Were then first markt without those streams of grace This want himself not sparingly supplyes But questionlesse would haue wept out his eyes Had not a more grim obiect and as near Restraind his griefe to make some roome for fear A hydeous lyon on his habit rubbes And trembling sides with harmelesse nostrils grubs Whiles he now pale whith fear amazed stands And stretcheth to the corpse his palsey hands Praying for help the beast with fyery eyes The death pale saints and the whole caue surueyes Then awfully his round walkes with a grace Might make him iudgd of more than mortal race Til at the saint's feet a ful stop he makes And as himself so the whole caue he shakes The monkes white haires with horror bristled stand Whiles he his whole length stretch forth on the sand The rockes themselues with terror seeme to sinke And too weake for so maine a burden shrink The monster couch't his shaggy outside smoothes And dreadful pawes now mildly licking soothes The trembling father with a fawning chear Expelling part both of his griefe and fear Who taking heart thus spoke Thou king of beastes Which neuer breakes thy maker's dreadful hests More blest herein than man since his high will Hath sent the hither in his name ful-fill Thy happy office and dig out a graue T' interre this sacred corpse in it's owne caâ—e The beast with fury flyes to worke and tears The ground vp with his dreadful clawes new fears Assayle the monk's heart least some sparkling stone Should maime the sacred carcasse or his owne So fiercely he earth's craggy entralls riues And round about the litle parlor driues Yet wary in his fury euer keepes That compasse harmelesse where the blest saint sleepes His panting sides with his owne steere he beates Breaths fyêr and ruine to the whol rocke threates His shaggy fleâ—â— waues with his angry wind And stares with horrour quilted he inclind Close to his taske both with his teeth and clawes The harder crags breakes lighter mold with drawes And now inter'd in his owne worke he lyes Yet stil workes on enough the father cryes His furious labours in an instant cease And he by Zozim blest departs in peace Whiles the sad monke in streames of sorrow fleets And her cold limmes in his owne mantel sheetes All rites performd the sacred corse he rears With due respect and to it's mansion beares Where once more at her blessed feet he fel Kist them and weeping tooke his last farewell First throwing in the sand and lighter mold Then shiuerd crags and bigger stones he rold Of which vpon her armes and sacred breast The figure of a homely crosse he drest And paying the last tribut of his tears Retournes to his owne celle where ful of yeares And sanctitye whiles her strange life he writes She him to euerlasting ioyes inuites His soule to heauen his bones to earth retourne And peacefully rest in their natiue vrne Blest payre of saints to whose al honourd shrines My blacke muse addes these late recanting lines Mildly accept of her vnfained zeale And by your prayers strengthen mine appeale From that of iustice to sweet mercy's throne Most blest of sinners not to thee vnknown Mercy it self can not shew more diuine Than by remitting greater sins than thine Disdaine not therefore to prepare a place For my staind soule great sins requyer great grace And mercy calles on mercyes be my guide To those great mercyes which thy self hast tryed That there thy prayse I may for euer sing A laureld poet to a happyêr string Amen Deo gratias