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
impudent face said unto him I have peace offerings with me this day have I payd my vowes Therefore came I forth to meet thee diligently to seek thy face and I have found thee I have deckt my bed with coverings of Tapestry with carved workes with fine linnen of Egypt I have perfumed my bed with myrrhe aloes and cynamen Come let us take our fill of love untill the morning let us solace our selves with loves For the good man is not at home he is gone a long journey Proverbs 7. vers 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19. But what is she end of all this if we look on the end of the chapter we shall see the end of the Adulterer Her house is the way to hell going down to the chambers of death verse 27. Thou dost not dreame thou shalt be blasted I tell thee ere long thou shalt be lopt off and flung into eternity I grant thou hast aspired to the top of thy Olympick Palace but thou shalt shortly fall thy life hath beene at best but a Tragicomedy and thou hast acted the fools part with pleasure but I tell thee death ere long shall strike the Epilogue and thou shalt goe away Secondly the Drunkard is a barren Branch Woe to the crowne of pride to the drunkards of Ephraim whose glorious beauty is a fading flowre which are on the head of the fat valleyes of them that are overcome with Wine Isaiah 28. vers 1. Thou Drunkard that carowsest care away and on thy Ale-bench blasphemest the God of Heaven that takest no felicity but in swinish company and knowest no other happines but the colour of the wine thou burdenest the earth thou inflamest the fire thou infectest the aire thou art as a flowre drowned with the dew of Heaven and bowest thy glory to the earth goe drunkard take thy fill of Wine untill the morning but I tell thee the houre is comming when it may be the hand of Heaven shall write thy doom upon the plaister of the wall Daniell 5.25 26. ere long thou mayst Read MENE MENE TEKEL UPHARSIN God hath numbred thy dayes and finisht them and being found too light thy glory is departed from thee then shall thy loynes be loosed thy countenance changed and thy false heart affrighted thou that drinkest iniquity like water I tell thee ere long thou shalt wash thy selfe away thy fruit is already withered and thou shalt be lopt from the Vine Thirdly the Robber is a barren Branch Leviticus 19. vers 11. Thou that by the Art of Leger-de-maine adoptest every mans goods thine owne I know thou wouldst have joy without sorrow wealth without want fruit without faith and life without death but remember the pitcher at last comes broken home There is a way seemes right in the eyes of man but the end thereof is the path of death Proverbs 14. vers 12. What though thou hast wheel'd off fairly once or twice or thrice yet thou shalt shortly fall Agememnon after all his 10 yeares wars at Troy was slain in one night among his freinds at Greece The valiant Hector whose temples were so often archt in a victorious Orbe while he was quitting his Countrey with gallantry and affronting his enemies in the height of bravery received in a moment the Embassage of death and upon the ground measured out his grave The mighty Achilles whose arme seemed a Postilion of death was slaine at last by a little winged Arrow and sent to his long home Tell me thou that canst draw thy sword and bid defiance upon the high way to truth and fidelity where lies thy brother Caine or Akan or Judas or Ahab does not their glory grovill in the ground or are they not sweltring in eternall flames It may be thou hast endured many a blast but there may come a blast ere long that may puffe thee quite away Thou that art acquainted with the Law so well that thou canst sometimes confute the Reverend Judges and yet performest never a tittle thereof believe mee thou canst not plead with death hee will come with a Habeas corpus and remove thee to eternity Forasmuch as thou art found unfruitfull in the Vineyard thou shalt be cut from the Vine and have thy portion in that lake of terrour where time shall be no more Fourthly the lyar is a barren Branch Leviticus 19. vers 11. Why boastest thou thy selfe in mischiefe O mighty man the goodnesse of God endureth continually Thy tongue deviseth mischiefes like a sharpe rasor working deceitfully Thou lovest evill more then good and lying rather then to speake righteousnesse Selah Thou lovest all devouring words O thou deceitfull tongue God shall likewise destroy thee for ever he shall take thee away and pluck thee out of thy dwelling place and root thee out of the Land of the living Psalme 52 vers 1 2 3 4 5. Thou that so oft dost call the God of heaven who is truth it selfe to witnesse to a lie tell me thou sordid peece of earth canst thou blinde the eies of heaven or canst thou draw a curtaine before the face of the most high does not his eie see thee does not his eare heare thee does not his heart ponder thy waies tell me is he excluded any where that can be comprehended no where if thou goest to heaven he is there if downe to hell he is there if thou take the wings of the morning and flye to the uttermost parts of the earth from thence the hand of God shall find thee out Come thou lyar Read the story of Ananias and Sapphira Acts 5. vers 1 2 3 4 5 5 7 8 9 10. The tree withers soone away that is perisht at the Root and thou shalt shortly fall who art rotten at the heart Alas thou art nothing but a walking shaddow a guilded peece of aire whose wealth is but poverty whose bravery but vanity whose truth infidelity and thou shalt ere long be â—hut out of eternity Revelation 22. vers 15. thy present tense ere long shal be made a preterimperâ—ectense and it shall shortly be said of thee he was and is not yet a little while and thou shalt be no more but shalt fade as the withering grasse and wither as the dying flowre Fifthly the Sabbath breaker is a barren Branch Ye shall keep my Sabbath therefore for it is holy unto you every one that breaketh it shall be cut off from among his people for whosoever doth any worke therein that soule shall surely be put to death Six dayes may worke be done but the seventh day is the Sabbath of rest holy to the Lord whosoever doth any worke therein shall surely be put to death Wherefore the Children of Israell shall keep the Sabbath to observe the Sabbath throughout their generations for a perpetuall memory It is a Covenant between me and the Children of Israeâ— for ever for in six dayes the Lord made heaven and earth and on the seventh day he rested and was refreshed Exod.
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
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
his strength the Souldier of his valour the Schollar of his learning the Germane gloryes that hee can drinke Wine the Usurer sacrifices to the god of gold the Prodigall to his pleasure and the Lover to his Lady and of all the rest the last is the most deluded making his life laborious while hee is tyred with such unacquainted passions Her frownes or smiles give him an earnest of life or death hee spends his yeares in disquietnesse his moneths in frowardnesse the day in fancies the night in dreames hee tyres his passion corrupts his invention deludes his affection disturbes his rest cracks his braine wearies his bed and breaken his sleepe hee makes earth his heaven pleasure his paradise beauty his felicity and prosperity his glory Poore soule hee knows not that bravery is a vanity that beauty is a vision and love a delusion that as Syrens can inchant so Ladies can allure that extremity attends prodigallity and the greatest temptations the strongest affections that the comliest blossome is the soonest blasted and the sweetest Rose the quickliest withered That poyson lyeth by the sweetest herbe and death is mingled in the fairest bait The deluded Lover stands in his owne light he puts out his owne eyes hee stoppes his owne eares hee is cloathed in darkenesse hee wanders in blindnesse lives in lasciviousnes and dyes in forgetfullnesse while these poore rarities fanne him with silken wings of mildest ayre breathed from a whispering winde Looke back fond Lover thou sure hast dreamed all past is but delusion thy sordid affections deserve not the name of love 't is but a morrall blaze a piece of humane glory a glaunce of beauties bravery a sparke of Cupids candle a flame of Vuicans forge a flash of Natures fire hot in a minute and cold in a moment But Oh Divine Love how much art thou abused How strongly neglected who art chiefely to bee beloved Thou indeed art a bed of Roses a mountaine of Spices a Garden of sweetnesse a Type of blessednesse a Messenger of fullnesse a Mirrour of faithfullnesse with thee there is no respect of persons nor no regard of places thou mindest not vanity nor art deceived by folly Thou strivest not for honour thou lookest not after gaine thou thirstest not for revenge but hopest all things believeth all things indureth all things Thou fillest the soule with vertue with vallour humility fidelity love peace joy patience and perseverance thou art hee that preserveth earth that guideth the Heavens and lest the Universe should returne to its first Chaos thou rulest the unruly Elements thou turnest the spheres and commandest the wandring Planets in their several Orbes And when thou smilest upon the soule thou makest earth resemble heaven deformity become purity and dust immortallity how faire and how lovely art thou oh Love for delights ARe they Ministers of Christ I speake as a fooole I am more in labours more abundant in stripes above measure in prisons more frequent in deaths oft Of the Iewes five times received I forty stripes save one Thrice was I beaten with rods once was I stoned thrice I suffered shipwracke a night and a day I have beene in the deepe In journeying often in perils of waters in perils of robbers in perils by mine owne countreymen in perils by the heathen in perils in the city in perils in the wildernesse in perils in the sea in perils amongst false brethren in wearinesse and painefulnesse in watchings often in hunger and thirst infasting often in cold and nakednesse 2 Corinthians chap. 11. vers 24.25.26.27 The SOULE ANd does the pallas of immortall glory Stand by deaths darkned throne Is this story True that many a fiery dart Is shot to wound the tyred travellers heart And yet before he comes into the armes Of love must conquer death and hells alarms Induring many a storme oh where is he That shall arrive at immort allitie CHRIST What 's he that questions heaven or his power And tyes eternity to a short lived houre By words that darken knowledge Canst thou tell His thoughts of love say wortall doest thou well Is mine arme shortned or do'st thou feare Mine eare is heavy that it cannot heare Or is my truth decayed Doe I require Fond man that thou alone shouldst travell through the fire Except I go before whose power can tame The scorching furnace and the fiery flame Have not I power to save that lockt up hell And conquered death Say mortall dost than well Is man more righteous then his maker why Do'st thou then mourne dry up thy watry eye And read thy way to heaven in this story Go on I 'le crowne thee with a crowne of glory SOULE But ah I am intangled in this vale of teares While I sit downe in sorrow numerous fearet Beset me round such rubs lye in my way I looke for deaths embassage every day In which my heart is faint my fears are full My faith is feeble and my senses dull And Sathan triumphs for no power at all Is in fond man since his rebellious fall How hard a taske how short a time have wee And who can wander to eternitio It is enough oh Lord thou knowst that I Am vanity let me lie down and dye CHRIST What meane these murm'rings that doe pierce mine cares Why faithlesse sonle art thou so full of feares Heaven is not gain'd at every idle breath Love attends labour life is gain'd by death This is a debt eternity will not passe Thy glory earth is like the withering grasse Thy soule is too impure till thou dost pay That debt soul how will mine eys indure this day My soule that once was glorious sin hath stain'd My hands are fetter'd and my feet are chain'd How black hath horror made my darkned face Can Heaven love me now can he embrace Me in his Royall armes can he endure A soule that 's so deform'd that 's so impure It is enough O Lord thou knowst that I Am vanity let me lie downe and dye Alas the least temptation throwes me downe CHRIST Yet soule press forward thou shalt have a Crowne Of endlesse Royalty set on thy head In a victorious Orb. Soule 'T is true the dead That dye in thee are happy they are blest Indeed they slumber in eternall rest But I that have not strength enough to strive Through my disasters how shall I arrive At my desired haven when I read 'T is such a difficult way Christ why I will lead Thee through the sea of sorrow till the Cup Of wrath is passed ore I 'le beare thee up In ever lasting armes do but endeavour To conquer death and thou shalt live for ever As pleasure so is torment transitory Strive and I 'le crown thee with a crown of glory The third SOLILOQUIE YOu trayterous thoughts assault my sence no more oh mine eyes whither doe you wander to what great steppe of pleasure to what great pitch of honour to what illustrate sphere to what coelestiall orbe are you hurried in
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
thee Alas we never saw thee Thou bidst us bee fruitfull and we be unprofitable thou commandest us to bee cleansed and wee be polluted when our eyes should be enlightned then our hearts are most darkened when we should be most washed then are we most defiled and when thou callest us to thee even then we fly from thee Wee lost our dignitie when our Father Adam lest his glory he breaking his League with Heaven left us his poore children nothing but our mother Earth who rocks us a while upon her idle knee of ignorance and then layes us to lullaby in eternall darkenesse Yet though wee have lost a Subjects loyalty thou hast not lost thy kingly dignity thou still retainest thy prerogative Royall yea Lord thou still hast power to command though we poore we have no ability to obey Oh that thou wouldst instead of commanding us compell us Oh thou that bidst us follow thee draw us and we shall run after thee Oh thou that commandest us to seeke thee shew thy selfe that wee may finde thee so though the world lies drowned in a sea of vanity yet we that follow thee shall live holily and dye happily forasmuch as our happinesse is wrapt up in heaven and dwells in the light of thy glory Now will I sing a Song to my welbeloved touching his Vineyard my welbeloved hath a Vineyard in a very fruitfull hill And he fenced it and gathered out the stones thereof and planted it with the choycest Vine and built a Tower in the midst of it and also made a Winepresse therein and he looked it should bring forth Grapes and it brought forth wilde Grapes Isa 5. v. 1 2. I. NO more Deluded England foole thy self no more But goe implore The heavens to ope thy dim and slumbring eyes No more Let blinde delusion keep thee shadowed ore And make thee soare Too high in wanton pleasures rarities Ah sin thou oft dost mix our sweets with soure Thou mak'st a Judgement in a short liv'd houre To blast the purest herb and crop the fairest flower II. Away Deluded England with thy workes away A new-borne Ray Begins to dawne and glorifie the aire Away Thou art discover'd poore can miry clay find power to pay Peace offrings no thou art more foule then faire The fig-tree brought forth leaves but we know who Did blast her is this all that thou canst doe Go vail thy Crown in dust lest thou be'st withred too III. Sit downe Ye glorious stars goe in the dust sit downe Whose glory shone Sometimes like Phoebus with his glittering traine Sit downe In silent sorrow goe and quench the frowne Of heaven thy Crowne Being vail'd then shalt thou wear the Crown again Why are we thus befool'd and do not cry To be transplanted Ah Reader thou and I Whose brach is withred here may soon lie down die IV. How soone Oh flouâ—ishing England didst thou swell how soon Thy fairest noone Was darkned o're and turn'd a glimmering day How soone Thou didst grow glorious prodigall and boone As the pale Moone In her blacke throne bids Phoebus flye away Oh it thou wilt have justice to reprieve thee If still thou wouldst have mercy to releive thee Trust not thy hollow self thy self wil but deceive thee V. Arise Oh then and ope thy unregenerate eyes How faire a prize Is there layd up in everlasting glorie Arise And be adorned in vertues rarities whose glory lies Drawne in the Records of this following story But if thy actions shall be still but vaine Led by the folly of a light haird braine Thou wilt be trampled down and withered ore again VI. Then shine For feare thy glimmering torch her light resigne And thou decline From thy first glory to a darkned shade Then shine Like Phoebus in the Equinoctiall line With fire divine Least thou art blasted and thy flower does sade So shalt thou flowrish in th' enlarged store Of wealth and Peace thy temples arched o're In a victorious Orb and war shall be no more The fift SOLILOQUIE A Gloomy Cloud may black the fairest Morne till Phoebus ariseth in his midday Majesty and with his glory cleares the darkned Aire when times black Daughter Night have wrapt her mantle about the virge of day and drowned the World in a forgotten dreame all things seeme alike to all the withered Weede the purest Herbe the comliest Blossome and the fairest flower But when the day starre appeares ushering in the morne and blushing Sol arises as from a bed of Roses whose burning Horses chafe up the Olympick hill and with their fiery fetlocks draw up the Golden Chariot of the day the World lyes then discovered Even thus the Gospel of our Lord Jesus haveing unmantled his glory from behinde a darkened cloud shining in full Majesty discovers the errours of our lower World but because time will bee too short to serve our turne and wee shall tyre the Readers eyes with too large a Soliloquie wee shall therefore looke upon but the latter part of our subject And first by the Vine wee can onely understand the Church of God and then our subject will lye as a stumbling block in the Readers way this seemes to bee strange say some that the Church of God should bee a fruitlesse Vine No this Vine beares pleasant fruit yet there are many worthlesse Branches that sprout among them bearing great show but little substance but when the wise Husbandman shall loppe them off the Branches that remaine shall sprout higher the fruit shall bee the sweeter and the Vine shall flourish the more And first wee shall endeavour to discover eight sorts of Branches that will bee cut from the Vine And they be these 1. The Adulterer 2. The Drunkard 3. The Robber 4. The Lyar. 5. The Sabboth-breaker 6. The Swearer 7. The Usurer 8. The Hypocrite First the Adulterer is a barren branch and shall bee cut off Thou Adulterer whose blood boyles in thy vaines and thy marrow is burnt in thy bones who art scorched in fire and sweltred in flames who swimmest in vanity and art drowned in a forgotten Dreame thy Morning is risen and thy Sunne hath aspired to the top of Noone-day thou seemest to ride upon the wings of Time commanding Pleasure as if shee were thy Captive Come wee will take a short survey of thy life which if the Scripture deceives us not is but the way to death For at the window of my house I looked through my casement and beheld among the simple ones I discerned among the youth a yong man void of understanding passing through the streete neere her corner and hee went the way to her house in the twilight in the evening in the blacke and darke night and behold there met him a woman with the attire of an Harlot and subtle of heart She is lowd and stubborne her feet abide not in her house Now is she without now in the streets and lieth in waite at every corner So she caught him and kissed him and with an
31. vers 13 14 15 16 17. Come thou prophane Sabbath breaker thou findest fault of the shortnesse of thy time I tell thee ere long thy time shall be cut away the candle thou now dost waste in pleasure thou wilt hereafter begge to spend in prayer what thou wretch if thy God had required six dayes in the weeke to sanctifie his name and celebrate his praise how wouldest thou have done that if thou canst not give him one in seven Goe sordid earth imbalme thy self in tears thou knowest not what felicity the godly take in this dayes progresse while they travell through the coelestiall Groves and while they wander through the faire Elizium walkes aspiring beyond the reach of this unworthy earth to change their hourely entercourse of love with Heaven whose service is perfect freedome redemption from slavery and a path way to glory every dayes progresse sends thee nearer to eternity and thou makest but a few Sabbath dayes journey towards Heaven why tell me whither doest thou wander Is it because there is no God in Israel that thou servest the god of Ekron or because thou hast dined on earth wilt thou now goe sup in hell away blind man thou runnest to thy ruine retire a while to thy forgotten selfe and reckon how fast thy winged houres flie away Ah Lord thy Sabbaths in former ages have been celebrated to thy praise when thy people spake often one to another to thy glory when the morning starres sang together and all the sonnes of God shouted for joy thy Saints in former ages upon thy holy day have met to offer up their perfumed oblations and dayly sacrifices to thee who dwellest between the Cherubins but now the beauty of Israell is gone from the high places Oh how are the mighty falne tell mee thou wretch that sayest when will the Sabbath be over that we may sell our Corne and Wine and Oyle that we may put on our gallant apparrell and heape up bags of gold what gaine is in riches what beauty in bravery what profit in pleasure what glory in honour thy riches are but poverty thy beauty deformity thy pleasure a penalty thine honour slavery therefore foole thy selfe no more by omitting thy duty and robbing heaven of his glory lest thou beest strucke with leaprosie like Miriam lest thou beest swallowed up like Corah Dathan and Abiram lest thou art consumed with fire like the sonnes of Aron lest thou hast a shower of stones like Akan or art shot with an arrow from heaven like Julian lest thou beest lopt from the Vine and cut from the earth and shut out of Heaven and flung into Hell lest thy possession be made a desolation and thy memory perish from the earth for want of a memory Sixthly the swearer is a barren Branch Ye shall not sweare by my Name falsly neither shalt thou prophane the name of thy God I am the Lord. Levit. 19. vers 12. Thou prophane Wretch that with thy breath infectest the aire and with thy body burdenest the earth and with thy heart dost blaspheme heaven what became of the prophane Rabshekah or the blasphemous Senacherib that with their tongues sounded such thunderclaps in fearefull Israells ears but when their lips upbraided the God of Heaven how soon did he bow their proud imperious necks and layd their glory groveling in the ground thou black mouth'd swearer that with a flash of Oathes doest exalt thy selfe to Heaven I tell thee ere long thou shalt be spurned downe to Hell thy life seemes yet a merry Comedy but thou knowest not how soone thou shalt speake the last sceane which being done thou shalt exit to the attiring roome of earth and undresse thee in the silent grave thou foule mouth'd swearer thou faine wouldst be accounted a Christian yet livest more deboyster then the Heathen Come if thou art a Christian trye thy Copy by thy Saviours President and see how thou obeyest his command But I say unto you sweare not at all neither by Heaven for it is Gods throne nor by earth for it is his footstoole nether by Hierusalem for it is she City of the great King Neither shalt thou sweare by thy head because thou canst not make one haire white or blacke But let your communication be Yea yea Nay nay for whatsoever is more then these commeth of evill Matthew 5. vers 34 35 36 37. Poore man thou art so far from dishonouring thy God by this that by thy Ruine he will purchase himselfe glory as the Traveller that spits against the winde hath it blowne in his face so thou that with thy breath blasphemest heaven blowest but the fire of Hell which shall torment thee to eternity thou that doest waste thy time in trifles and thy dayes in a dreame thou art at the best but a piece of perjury and a flash of vanity that walkest by the light of thine owne fire and the sparkes thou hast kindled This is the portion thou shalt have from the hand of Heaven thou shalt lie downe in sorrow Seventhly the covetous man is a barren Branch and shall be cut from the Vine What 's hee that so prophanes all purity and scornes the power that others doe adore that curseth his Tapour for burning so fast his provision for spending too soone his houres for flying too swift and his purse for filling too slow Thou groveling worldling that Viper-like doest teare thy Mothers wombe and off rest sacrifice to the god of gold that art as pollitick as Achitophell as proud as painted Jezebell as churlish as Naball as swift as Asahell hadst thou the pollicy of Vlysses the strength of Hercules the beauty of Adonis the wealth of great Nilus or the gold of rich Tagus thou art but a house of clay and thy foundation is in the Dust Neverthelesse man being in honour abideth not he is like the beasts that perish Psalme 49. verse 12. The time is comming when delicates shall not be delightfull life shall not be desirable pleasure shall be painefull Riches unprofitable death unavoydable and eternity most terrible when thou shalt finde evidences enough for earth but no assurance for Heaven then it may be thou wouldst give ten thousand pounds for a share in Jesus Christ but Jesus Christ makes no such bargaine Dives had not been in Hell if his money would have purchast heaven but then thy Riches shall take to themselves wings and flye away thou knowest not how soone thou mayest come to thy journeyes end when thou shalt bee deposed from thy glory like Nebuchadnezar Dan. 4 30. or slaine in the midst of thy gold and mirth like drunken Belshazzer or lye in the cold like poore Lazarus or bee kickt into Hell like rich Dives go view the Monuments of thy Fathers where lyes the Crowne of Shyhon King of the Amorices and Ogge the King of Bashan Where bee the Perizites the Jebusites or the Children of the East or Zeba or Zelmunna Where is the Tower of Babylon the sometimes glorious Caanan the
but Actions not Chaffe but Wheate not Pibbles but Pearles not Leaves but Fruit not Drosse but Gold I meane Unity Fidelity Meekenesse long suffering Patience and Perseverance ye shall have a shield to save you a chamber to hide you an arme to protect you a Fountaine to coole you and a Rock to over-shaddow shaddow you and a Pillar of fire to guide you while you travell through the vally of the shaddow of death and while you are sayling through the red sea of sorrow In that day sing yee unto her A Vineyard of red Wine I the Lord doe keepe it I will water it every morning lest any hurt it I will keepe it night and day Isa 27. v. 2 3. Thus were you not protected alas how soone would you bee destroyed How weake would bee your strength How strong your weakenesse How soone would your persons bee abused your sence deceived your wills corrupted your apprehensions deluded your constancy contemned and your fidelity befooled But now had I a quill snatcht from the lofty Eagles wings or were my inke distilled from Gold had I the Curiosity of Cleo the Learning of Plato the Poetry of Apollo the Eloquence of Cicero or the Love of Queene Dido I should rather darken their Dignity then illustrate their Royalty I thinke Readers I must deceive you all and â—hut the Booke and make an end of my subject For hee that will speake of the worth of a Picture must himselfe bee a Painter so hee that will discourse of the Saints dignity must himselfe bee wrapt first in the Pallace of high glory this onely may suffice they shall have wealth without want puâ—ity without perjury health without sicknesse wisdome without folly life without mortallity there shall they have eternity for time gloâ—y for indignity a Crowne for a Crosse and a Kingdome with a Crowne But since the heart is too narrow to conceive it it is unlawfull for the tongue to utter it 2 Cor. 12. ver 4. Thus are wee forced to draw a Curtaine about our subject and hide our glorious sceane and because wee dare not speake of such a price silence shall now bee the Epilogue of the Play How lovely lookt the Sonne of Glory in our terestiall spheare earth was too unworthy to bee possest of such a glorious guest how powerfull was that tongue that with a short command could dispossesse the divel make his enemies in a moment drop downe and dye that could give feete to the lame eyes to the blinde health to the sick salvation to sinners and life to death How did his lips out passe the sweete lipt orator while in sundry places hee poured forth the sweetest words that Art or Love could frame enough to melt the beholders hearts and charme the hearers eares How full of sweetnesse is that bosome that was wounded with a speare I thinke Love lay there intomb'd having power enough to bring the lost soule to seeke for sanctuary in his circled armes how full of comlinesse was that face that so often was hit with the blowes of scorne and flurts of disdaine that head the fountaine of knowledge that was crowned with the thornes had power enough by wisedome to controle the world How full of Majesty were those faire eyes that so often were drowned in silent teares Had the ungratefull world no better entertainment for so Royall a babe but must mantle him in a Manger and from his Cradle hurry him to his Crosse Ah man how obdurate was thy heart to him that was as kinde as heaven well mayest thou cast dust on thy head since thou art so foule in thy heart goe weep thy selfe away goe goe be sad all mortalls let your downe east eyes present a silent sorrow let your dayes be as darke as the silent grave as when the eclipsed Sunne leaves the world in a mist or the angry aire covers heavens glory in a sable Cloud let every mortall mourn and be like a monument cut out of marble But is it so that Jesus Christ is the Vine and that so many of the branches shall be cut off then our subject sounds an alarum in the eares of all mortals and bids the Inhabitants of the world looke about them Is it so that none but the ingrafted Members shall stand and the others fall then this tels us that your condition is not so good as you imagine If those that seeme to be Members shall be cut away what shall be done to them that are enemies to the body if some of the branches shall fall that grow on the Vine what shall become of them that come not neare the Vineyard How hath the Prince of darknesse besotted all Mortalls how is poore man befooled perhaps thou measurest by another man and thou art higher by the head and shoulders and thou thinkest God must love thee because of thy person King Saul was higher then all his brethren yet little David was advanced to the Crowne and he was flung from the Throne Perhaps thou art a Scholar and for thy wisedome and learning thou thinkest God must love thee and thou must needs be a branch in the Vine I tell thee thy wit is but like a sharpe Rasor when God shall come and set thy wit to gnaw on thy accused Conscience Oh the anguish of thy soule in that day there is no such torment as a sharpe with will inflict upon it selfe Perhaps thou art a rich man and thou thinkest God must needs love thee because of thy Riches and ingraft thee in the Vine no I tell thee Jesus Christ can passe by all the Kings Courts and the Princes Palaces and enter in the house of poore Martha and be a companion for Lazarus that had nothing to entertaine him If Christ had been taken with gold he could have planted his Vineyard among the Indies where his Temple might have been all dawbed with gold Perhaps thou art beautifull and thou thinkest Heaven must love thee because thou art lovely Beleeve me that will wither away when sicknesse with her afly hand shall sweep off thy colour thou shalt resemble earth though thou art like Jezebell death will pluck thy feathers and thou shalt be banisht to the Grave and call the worme thy sister and thy Brother Therefore if thou hast any excellency in thee or parts it is but cumbred stuffe and the harder it is to pull thee into heaven God must be faine to take more paines with thee then with a poore creature that hath nothing to boast of every externall part thou hast is but a block to lye in thy way and thou must leave them behinde thee or thou wilt never crowd through the straight Gate Thy table that 's a snare to thee while sometimes thou eatest more then does thee good Thy gold that 's a snare to thee while thou settest thy heart upon it and forgettest Heaven Thy portly body thou mayst boast of it well enough it may be it is all thou art like to enjoy make much of
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
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