those vnspotted eyes encountred mine As spotlesse Sunne doth on the dunghill shine Sweet volumes stor'd with learning fit for Saints Where blisfull quires imparadize their mindes Wherein eternall study neuer faints Still finding all yet seeking all it findes How endlesse is your labyrinth of blisse Where to be lost the sweetest finding is Ah wretch how oft haue I sweet lessons read In those deare eyes the registers of truth How oft haue I my hungry wishes fed And in their happy ioyes redrest my ruth Ah that they now are Heralds of disdaine That erst were euer pitiers of my paine You flames diuine that sparkle out your heates And kindle pleasing fires in mortall hearts You Nectar'd Aumbries of soule feeding meates You gracefull quiuers of loues dearest darts You did vouchsafe to warme to wound to feast My cold my stony my now famisht breast The matchlesse eyes matcht onely each by other Were pleas'd on my ill matched eyes to glance The eye of liquid pearle the purest mother Broch't teares in mine to weepe for my mischance The cabinets of grace vnlockt their treasure And did to my misdeed their mercies measure These blazing Comets lightning flames of loue Made me their warming influence to know My frozen heart their sacred force did proue Which at their lookes did yeeld like melting snow They did not ioyes in former plentie carue Yet sweet are crums where pined thoughts do starue O liuing mirrours seeing whom you shew Which equall shadowes worths with shadowed things Yea make things nobler then in natiue hew By being shap't in those life-giuing springs Much more my image in those eyes were grac't Then in my selfe whom sinne and shame defac't All-seeing eyes more worth then all you see Of which one is the others onely price I worthlesse am direct your beames on me With quickning vertue cure my killing vice By seeing things you make things worth the sight You seeing salue and being seene delight O Pooles of Hesebon the baths of grace Where happy spirits dine in sweet desires Where Saints delight to glasse their glorious face VVhose bankes make Eccho to the Angels quires An Eccho sweeter in the sole rebound Then Angels musicke in the fullest sound O eyes whose glances are a silent speech In cipherd words high mysteries disclosing Which with a looâ—e all Sciences can teach Whose texts to faithfull hearts need little glosing Witnesse vnworthy I who in a looke Learn'd more by rote then all the Scribes by booke Though malice still possest their hardned minds I though too hard learn'd softnesse in thine eye Which yron knots of stubburne will vnbinds Offring them loue that loue with loue will buy This did I learne yet they could not discerne it But wo that I had now such need to learne it O Sunnes all but your selues in light excelling Whose presence day whose absence causeth night Whose neighbour course brings Sommer cold expelling Whose distant periods freeze away delight Ah that I lost your bright and fostering beames To plonge my soule in these congealed streames O gracious Spheres where loue the Center is A natiue place for our selfe-loaden soules The compasse loue a cope that none can misse The motion loue that round about vs roules O Spheres of loue whose Center cope and motion Is loue of vs loue that inuites deuotion O little worlds the summes of all the best Where glory heauen God sunne all vertues starres Where fire a loue that next to heauen doth rest Ayre light of life that no distemper marres The water grace whose seas whose springs whose showers Cloth natures earth with euerlasting flowers What mixtures these sweet Elements do yel'd Let happy worldlings of those worlds expound But simples are by compounds farre exceld Both sute a place where all best things abound And if a banisht wretch ghesse not amisse All but one compound frame of perfect blisse I out-cast from these worlds exiled rome Poore Saint from heauen from fire cold Salamander Lost fish from those sweet waters kindly home From land of life stray'd Pilgrime still I wander I know the cause these worlds had neuer hell In which my faults haue best deseru'd to dwell O Bethlem cesterns Dauids most desire From which my sinnes like fierce Philistims keepe To fetch your drops what Champion should I hire That I therein my withered heart may steepe I would not shead them like that holy King His were but types these are the figured thing O Turtle twinnes all bath'd in Virgins milke Vpon the margine of full flowing banks Whose gracefull plume surmounts the finest silke Whose sight enamoureth heauens most happy ranks Could I forsweare this heauenly payre of Doues That cag'd in care for me were groning loues Twise Moses wand did strike the stubburne Rocke Ere stony veines would yeeld their chrystall bloud Thy eies one looke seru'd as an onely knocke To make mine heart gush out a weeping floud Wherein my sinnes as fishes spawne their frie To shew their inward shames and then to die But ô how long demurre I on his eyes Whose looke did pierce my heart with healing wound Launcing impostum'd sore of periur'd lyes Which these two issues of mine â—yes haue found Where runne it must till death the issues stop And penall life hath purg'd the finall drop Like solest Swan that swims in silent deepe And neuer sings but obsequies of death Sigh out thy plaints and sole in secret weepe In suing pardon spend thy periur'd breath Attire thy soule in sorrowes mourning weed And at thine eyes let guilty conscience bleed Still in the Limbecke of thy dolefull brest These bitter fruits that from thy sinnes do grow For fuell selfe accusing thoughts be best Vse feare as fire the coales let penance blow And seeke none other quintessence but teares That eyes may shead what entred at thine eares Come sorrowing teares the off-spring of my griefe Scant not your Parent of a needfull ayde In you I rest the hope of wisht reliefe By you my sinfull debts must be defrayd Your power preuailes your sacrifice is gratefull By loue obtaining life to men most hatefull Come good effects of ill-deseruing cause Ill gotten impes yet vertuously brought forth Selfe-blaming probates of infringed Lawes Yet blamed faults redeeming with your worth The signes of shame in you each eye may reade Yet while you guilty proue you pitty pleade O beames of mercy beate on sorrowes Clowd Proue suppling showers vpon my parched ground Bring forth the fruit to your due seruice vow'd Let good desires with like deserts be crown'd Water yong blooming vertues tender flowre Sinne did all grace of riper growth deuoure Weepe Balme and Myrrhe you sweet Arabian trees With purest gummes perfume and pearle your ryne Shead on your hony drops you busie Bees I barraine plant must weepe vnpleasant bryne Hornets I hyue salt drops their labour plyes Suckt out of sinne and shed by showring eyes If Dauid night by night did bathe his bed Esteeming longest dayes too short to moue Inconsolable teares if
Fiends do sell That men to monsters Angels turne to Deuils Wrong of all rights selfe ruine roote of euils A thing most done yet more then God can do Daily new done yet neuer done amisse Friended of all yet vnto all a foe Seeming an heauen yet banishing from blisse Serued with toyle yet paying nought but paine Mans deepest losse though false esteemed gaine Shot without noise wound without present smart First seeming light prouing in fine a lode Entring with ease not easily wonne to part Farre in effects from that the showes abode Endorc't with hope subscribed with dispaire Vgly in death though life did faine it faire O forfeiture of heauen eternall debt A moments ioy ending in endlesse fires Our natures scum the worlds entangling Net Night of our thoughts death of all good desires Worse then all this worse then all tongues can say Which man could owe but onely God defray This fawning Viper dum till he had wounded With many mouthes doth now vpbraid my harmes My sight was veild till I my selfe confounded Then did I see the disinchanted charmes Then could I cut th' Anatomy of sinne And search with Linxes eyes what lay within Bewitching euill that hides death in deceits Still borrowing lying shapes to maske thy face Now know I the deciphring of thy sleights A cunning dearely bought with losse of grace Thy sugred poyson now hath wrought so well That thou hast made me to my selfe an hell My eye reades mournfull lessons to my heart My heart doth to my thought the griefe expound My thought the same doth to my tongue impart My tongue the message in the eares doth sound My eares backe to my heart their sorrowes send Thus circling griefes runne round without an end My guilty eye still seemes to see my sinne All things Characters are to spell my fall What eye doth reade without heart rues within What heart doth rue to pensiue thought is gall Which when the thought would by the tongue digest The eare conueyes it backe into the breast Thus gripes in all my parts do neuer faile Whose onely league is now in bartring paines What I ingrosse they traffique by retaile Making each others miseries their gaines All bound for euer prentices to care Whilst I in shop of shame trade sorrowes ware Pleasd with displeasing lot I seeke no change I wealthiest am when richest in remorse To fetch my ware no Seas nor Lands I range For customers to buy I nothing force My home bred goods at home are bought and sold And still in me my interest I hold My comfort now is comfortlesse to liue In Orphan state deuoted to mishap Rent from the roote that sweetest fruit did giue I scorn'd to graffe in stock of meaner sap No iuyce can ioy me but of Iesses flower Whose heauenly roote hath true reuiuing power At sorrowes doore I knockt they crau'd my name I answered One vnworthy to be knowne What one say they One worthiest of blame But who A wretch not Gods nor yet his owne A man O no a beast much worse What creature A rocke How cald the rocke of scandale Peter From whence From Caiphas house Ah dwell you there Sinnes farme I rented there but now would leaue it What rent My soule What gaine Vnrest and feare Deare purchase Ah too deare will you receiue it What shall we giue Fit teares and times to plaine me Come in say they thus griefes did entertaine me With them I rest true prisoner in their Iayle Chayn'd in the yron linkes of basest thrall Till grace vouchsafing captiue soule to bayle In wonted See degraded loues install Dayes passe in plaints the night without repose I wake to sleepe I sleepe in waking woes Sleepe deaths ally obliuion of teares Silence of passiions balme of angry sore Suspence of loues security of feares Wraths lenitiue hearts ease stormes calmest shore Senses and soules repriuall from all cumbers Benumming sense of ill with quiet slumbers Not such my sleepe but whisperer of dreames Creating strange Chymeras fayning frights Of day discourses giuing fansie theames To make dum shewes with worlds of anticke sights Casting true griefes in fansies forged mold Brokenly telling tales rightly fore-told This sleepe most fitly suiteth sorrowes bed Sorrow the smart of euill Sinnes eldest child Best when vnkind in killing whom it bred A racke for guilty thoughts a bit for wild The scourge that whips the salue that cures offence Sorrow my bed and home while life hath sence Here solitarie Muses nurse my griefes In silent lonenesse burying worldly noise Attentiue to rebukes deafe to reliefes Pensiue to foster cares carelesse of ioyes Ruing lifes losse vnder deaths dreary roofes Solemnizing my funerall behoofes A selfe content the shrowd my soule the corse The Beere an humble hope the herse-clorh feare The mourners thoughts in blacks of deepe remorse The herse grace pitie loue and mercy beare My â—eares my dole the Priest a zealous will Penance the tombe and dolefull sighes the knill Christ health of feuer'd soule heauen of the mind Force of the feeble nurse of infant loues Guide to the wandring foote light to the blind Whom weeping windes repentant sorrow moues Father in care mother in tender heart Reuiue and saue me slaine with sinfull dart If King Manasses sunke in depth of sinne With plaints and teares recouered grace and Crowne A worthlesse worme some mild regard may winne And lowly creepe where flying threw it downe A poore desire I haue to mend my ill I should I would I dare not say I will I dare not say I will but wish I may My pride is checkt high words the speaker spilt My good ô Lord thy gift thy strength my stay Giue what thou bidst and then bid what thou wilt Worke with me what of me thou doest request Then will I dare the most and vow the best Prone looke crost armes bent knee and contrite heart Deepe sighs thicke sobs dew'd eyes and postrate prayers Most humbly beg release of earned smart And sauing shrowd in mercies sweet repaires If iustice should my wrongs with rigor wage Feares would dispaires ruth breed a hopelesse rage Lazar at pitties gate I vlcered lye Crauing the reffuse crums of childrens plate My sores I lay in view to mercies eye My rags beare witnesse of my poore estate The wormes of conscience that within me swarme Proue that my plaints are lesse then is my harme With mildnesse Iesu measure mine offence Let true remorse thy due reuenge abate Let teares appease when trespasse doth incense Let pitty temper thy deserued hate Let grace forgiue let loue forget my fall With feare I craue with hope I humbly call Redeeme my lapse with ransome of thy loue Trauerse th' inditement rigors doome suspend Let frailty fauour sorrowes succour moue Be thou thy selfe though changeling I offend Tender my suite cleanse this defiled denne Cancell my debts sweet Iesu say Amen The end of S. Peters Complaint MARIE MAGdalens blush THe signes of shame that staine my blushing face Rise from
hearts or feele my fire but I My faultlesse breast the fornace is the fuell wounding thornes Loue is the fire and sighes the smoake the ashes shames and scornes The fuell Iustice layeth on and mercie blowes the coales The mettall in this Fornace wrought are mens defiled soules For which as now on fire I am to worke them to their good So will I melt into a bath to wash them in my blood With this he vanisht out of sight and swiftly shronke away And straight I called vnto mind that it was Christmasse day New Heauen new Warre COme to your heauen you heauenly Quires Earth hath the heauen of your desires Remoue your dwelling to your God A stall is now his best abode Sith men their homage do deny Come Angels all their fault supply His chilling cold doth heat require Come Seraphins in lieu of fire This little Arke no couer hath Let Cherubs wings his body swathe Come Raphael this Babe must eate Prouide our little Toby meate Let Gabriel be now his groome That first tooke vp his earthly roome Let Michael stand in his defence Whom loue hath linkt to feeble sense Let graces rocke when he doth cry Let Angels sing his lullaby The same you saw in heauenly seate Is he that now suckes Maries teate Agnize your King a mortall wight His borrowed weed lets not your sight Come kisse the manger where he lyes That is your blisse aboue the skies This little Babe so few dayes old Is come to rifle Sathans fold All hell doth at his presence quake Though he himself for cold do shake For in this weake vnarmed wise The gates of hell he will surprise With teares he fights wins the field His naked breast stands for a shield His battering shot are babish cryes His arrowes lookes of weeping eyes His Martiall Ensignes cold and need And feeble flesh his warriers Steed His Campe is pitched in astall His bulwarke but a broken wall The Crib his trench hay-stalkes his stakes Of Shepheards he his Muster makes And thus as sure his fo to wound The Angels trumps alarum sound My soule with Christ ioyne thou in fight Sticke to the tents that he hath dight Within his crib is surest ward This little Babe will be thy guard If thou wilt foyle thy foes with ioy Then flit not from the heauenly Boy FINIS Moeoniae OR CERTAINE EXCELLENT POEMS AND SPIRITVAL Hymnes composed by R.S. AN CHO RA. SPEI LONDON Printed for W. Barret The Virgine Maries conception OVR second Eue puts on her mortall shrowd Earth breeds a heauen for Gods new dwelling place Now riseth vp Elias little cloud That growing shall distill the showre of grace Her being now begins who ere she end Shall bring our good that shall our ill amend Both Grace and Nature did their force vnite To make this babe the summe of all their best Our most her least our million but her mite She was at easiest rate worth all the rest What grace to men or Angels God did part Was all vnited in this infants heart Foure onely wights bred without fault are nam'd And all the rest conceiued were in sinne Without both man and wife was Adam fram'd Of man but not of wife did Eue beginne Wife without touch of man Christs mother was Of man and wife this babe was borne in grace Her Natiuitie IOy in the rising of our Orient starre That shall bring forth the Sunne that lent her light Ioy in the peace that shall conclude our warre And soone rebate the edge of Sathans spight Load-starre of all inclos'd in worldly waues The care and compasse that from ship-wracke saues The patriarkes and Prophets were the flowers Which time by course of ages did distill And call'd into his little clowd the showers Whose gracious drops the world with ioy shall fill Whose moisture suppleth euery soule with grace And bringeth life to Adams dying race For God on earth she is the royall throne The chosen cloth to make his mortall weede The quarry to cut out our corner stone Soile full of fruite yet free from mortall seede For heauenly flowre she is the Iessa rod The child of man the parent of a god Her Spousals WIfe did she liue yet virgine did she dye Vntoucht of man yet mother of a sonne To saue her selfe and child from fatall lie To end the web whereof the thred was spon In marriage knots to Ioseph she was tide Vnwonted workes with wonted wiles to hide God lent his Paradise to Iosephs care Wherein he was to plant the tree of life His sonne of Iosephs child the title bare Iust cause to make the mother Iosephs wife O blessed man betroth'd to such a spouse More blest to liue with such a child in house No carnall loue this sacred league procur'd All vaine delights were farre from their assent Though both themselues in wedlocke bands assur'd Yet chast by vow they seald their chast intent Thus had the Virgins wiues and widows crowne And by chaste child-birth doubled their renowne The virgins salutation SPell Eua backe and Aue shall you finde The first began the last reuerst our harmes An Angels Aue disinchants the charmes Death first by womans weaknesse entred in In womans vertue life doth now begin O Virgins breast the heauens to thee incline In thee they ioy and soueraigne they agnize Too meane their glorie is to match with thine Whose chast receit God more then heauen did prize Haile fairest heauen that heauen and earth do blisse Where vertues starre Gods Sunne of iustice is With haughty mind to godhead man aspired And was by pride from place of pleasure chac'de With louing mind our manhood God desired And vs by loue in greater pleasure plac'de Man labouring to ascend procur'd our fall God yeelding to descend cut off our thrall The Visitation PRoclaimed Queene and mother of a God The light of earth the soueraigne of Saints With Pilgrime foote vp tyring hils she trod And heauenly stile with handmaids toile acquaints Her youth to age her selfe to sicke she lends Her heart to God to neighbour hand she bends A prince she is and mightier prince doth beare Yet pompe of princely traine she would not haue But doubtlesse heauenly Quires attendant were Her child from harme her selfe from fall to saue Word to the voice song to the tune she brings The voice her word the tune her ditty sings Eternall lights inclosed in her breast Shot out such piercing beames of burning loue That when her voice her cosins eares possest The force thereof did force her babe to moue With secret signes the children greet each other But open praise each leaueth to his mother His Circumcision THe head is launc't to worke the bodies cure With angrie salue it smarts to heale our wound To faultlesse Sonne from all offences pure The faulty vassals scourges do redound The Iudge is cast the guiltie to acquit The Sunne defac'd to lend the starre his light The vine of life distilleth drops of grace Our rocke
hearse doth hang which doth me tell That I ere morning may be dead Though now I feele my selfe ful well But yet alas for all this I Haue little mind that I must die The gowne which I do vse to weare The knife wherewith I cut my meate And eke that old and ancient chaire Which is my onely vsuall seate All these do tell me I must die And yet my life amend not I. My ancestors are turnd to clay And many of my mates are gone My yongers daily drop away And can I thinke to scape alone No no I know that I must die And yet my life amend not I. Not Salomon for all his wit Nor Sampson though he were so strong No king nor person euer yet Could scape but death laid him along Wherefore I know that I must die And yet my life amend not I. Though all the East did quake to heare Of Alexanders dreadfull name And all the West did likewise feare To heare of Iulius Caesars fame Yet both by death in dust now lie Who then can scape but he must die If none can scape deaths dreadfull dart If rich and poore his becke obey If strong if wise if all do smart then I to scape shall haue no way Oh grant me grace O God that I My life may mend sith I must die A vale of teares A Vale there is enwrapt with dreadfull shades Which thicke of mourning pines shrowds from the Sunne Where hanging cliffes yeeld short and dumpish glades And snowy flouds with broken streames do runne Where eye-roome is from rocke to cloudie skie From thence to dales which stormy ruines shrowd Then to the crushed waters frothie frie Which tumbleth from the tops where snow is show'd Where eares of other sound can haue no choice But various blustring of the stubburne wind In trees in caues in straits with diuers noise Which now doth hisse now howle now roare by kind Where waters wrastle with encountring stones That breake their streames and turne them into foame The hollow clouds ful fraught with thundering groanes With hideous thumps discharge their pregnant wombe And in the horror of this fearefull quier Consists the musicke of this dolefull place All pleasant birds their tunes from thence retire Where none but heauy notes haue any grace Resort there is of none but pilgrime wights That passe with trembling foote and panting heart With terrour cast in cold and shuddring frights And all the place to terror fram'd by art Yet natures worke it is of arte vntoucht So strait indeed so vast vnto the eye With such disordred order strangely coucht And so with pleasing horror low and hie That who it viewes must needs remaine agast Much at the worke more at the makers might And muse how Nature such a plot could cast Where nothing seemed wrong yet nothing right A place for mated minds an onely bower Where euerie thing doth sooth a dumpish mood Earth lies forlorne the cloudie skie doth lower The wind here weepes her sighes her cries aloud The strugling floud betweene the marble grones Then roaring beates vpon the craggie sides A little off amidst the pibble stones With bubling streames a purling noise it glides The pines thicke set high growne and euer greene Still cloath the place with shade and mourning vaile Here gaping cliffes there mosse growne plaine is seene Here hope doth spring and there againe doth quaile Huge massie stones that hang by tickle stay Still threaten foule and seeme to hang in feare Some withered trees asham'd of their decay Beset with greene and forc'd gray coates to weare Here christall springs crept out of secret vaine Straite findes some enuious hole that hides their graine Here seared tufts lament the wants of g ace There thunder wracke giues terror to the place All pangs and heauie passions here may find A thousand motiues suting to their griefes To feed the sorrowes of their troubled mind And chase away dame pleasures vaine reliefes To plaining thoughts this vale a rest may be To which from worldly toyes they may retire Where sorrow springs from water stone and tree Where euerie thing with mourners doth conspire Sit here my soule mourne streames of teares aflote Here all thy sinfull foyles alone recount Of solemne tunes make thou the dolefulst note That to thy ditties dolor may amount When Eccho doth repeate thy painefull cries Thinke that the very stones thy sinnes bewray And now accuse thee with their sad replies As heauen and earth shall in the latter day Let former faults be fuell of the fire For griefe in Limbeck e of thy heart to still Thy pensiue thoughts and dumps of thy desire And vapour teares vp to thy eyes at will Let teares to tunes and paines to plaints be prest And let this be the burthen to thy song Come deepe remorse possesse my sinfull breast Delights adue I harboured you too long The prodigall childs soule-wracke DIsankerd from a blisfull shore and lancht into the maine of cares Grewne rich in vice in vertue poore from freedome falne in fatall snares I found my selfe on euerie side enwrapped in the waues of wo And tossed with a toilesome tide could to no port for refuge go The wrastling winds with raging blasts still hold me in a cruell chace They breake my anchors saile and masts permitting no reposing place The boistrous seas with swelling flouds on euerie side did worke their spight Heauen ouercast with stormy clouds denide the Planets guiding light The hellish furies lay in wait to winne my soule into their power To make me bite at euery baite wherein my bane I might deuoure Thus heauen and hell thus sea and land thus stormes and tempests did conspire With iust reuenge of scourging hand to witnesse Gods deserued ire I plonged in this heauie plight found in my faults iust cause to feare My darknesse taught to know my light the losse thereof enforced teares I felt my inward bleeding sores my festred wounds began to smart Stept far within deaths fatall dores the pangs thereof went neare my heart I cried truce I craued peace a league with death I would conclude But vaine it was to sue release subdue I must or be subdude Death and deceit had picht their snares and out their wonted proofes in vre To sinke me in despairing cares or make me stoope to pleasures lure They sought by their bewitching charmes so to enchant my erring sense That whē they sought my greatest harmes I might neglect my best defence My dazled eyes could take no view no heed of their deceiuing shifts So often did they alter hew and practise new deuised drifts With Syrens songs they fed mine eares till luld asleepe on errors lap I found their tunes turnd into teares and short delights to long mishap For I enticed to their lore and soothed with their idle toyes Was trained to their prison doore the end of all such flying ioyes Where chaind in sinne I lay in thrall next to the dungeon of despaire Till mercy rais'd