by meditating of thy griâ—fes thou wouldst sooner labour for reliefe and seasonably partake of comfort after thy long affliction For who can search into the Source of thy Sorrowes or know the depth of thy griefes or joyes unlesse thy selfâ— discover them The Heart knoweth his owne bitternesse and a Strangâ—r doth not intermeddle with his joy The way to cure thy wounds is to open them The way to ease thy Heart is to discover the sorrowes of it Shouldst thou with that Sacred and Elect vessâ—ll be pressed and happy thou if so afflicted out of measure above strength insomuch as thou shouldst despaire of life call but upon the Lord and hee will deliver thee For hee and onely hee can heale the broken spirit comfort the contrite Soule and make the bones which hee hath broken to rejoyce For hee it is who is the hope of the desperate the comfort of the desolate Weepe he cannot who is so solaced faile hee shall not who is so succoured Apply thy selfe then to him O my wounded heart and repose thee in his wounds for they are full of compassion rely on his promises for they sound nothing but consolation Shouldst thou ô my languishing heart be driven to that extremity as thou couldst finde no comfort within thee no hope of reliefe without thee nothing but clouds of heavinesse to encompasse thee none but Iobs Messengers to encounter thee shouldst thou rore forth in the bitternesse of thy soule How long wilt thou not depart from me how long wilt thou thus afflict me nor let me alone till I swallow downe my spittle Yea should thy belly tremble thy lips quiver at his voice should rottennesse enter into thy bones and thy strength faile yet would the hand of the Almighty by disclaiming thine owne power and flying to his mercy so support thee as thou shouldst not fall But thou art wounded ô mine heart and ô I wish that thou wert sensibly wounded Meane time let the desires of thy roring intrals beate at the gate of his Compassions Let the cryes of the teares of thine eyes poured forth with fervour of affection pierce the clouds and seale to thy numerous sinnes a gracious remission O that thou wert so pure that thy deare and loving Spouse would say unto thee Thou hast ravished my heart my Sister my Spouse Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes with one chaine of thy necke O fly unto him and thou shalt finde this Love in him Let the world have no part nor portion in thee Hee is jealous of thy love thou must love him onely if thou love him truly A devided Love because distracted in her Object cannot live Fixt must thy resolves bee and those for eternity if thou meane ever to raigne with him in glory Shee deserves not a loving Spouse that is not faithfull in her love to her Spouse To keepe thy Nuptiall bed undefiled is an honour to violate that Faith thou hast plighted were piacular Two hearts cannot rest in one brest but two Soules may repose in one heart Thou hast often vowed to keepe thy selfe to one and He thine only one and how soone were those sweet vowes made bitter when thine eyes taken with outward Objects begunne to wander Tell me my wounded heart who was ever sicke and knew himselfe so and desir'd not health who ever wounded and sought not for a cure Now if outward discontents occasion such Care what should our inward griefes doe which minister hourely occasions of greater feare Thou hast long suffered and desir'd to be solaced but thou sought not where Comfort was to be found and therefore thou found not that which thou sought The place or repose of an humane or naturall heart consists in the delight of this present â—ife But no sooner is thy heart touchâ—d with divine aspiration than the seat of our heart becomes the love of eterâ—ity and receipt of heavenly consolaâ—ion That heart is truly styled the friend of truth which is a lover and approver of every right action and makes Heaven the sole object of her contemplaâ—ion The truest proofe of love is the fruit of a good life Divine love consists not â—n voyce and ayre Should thy voyce â—ound like a Trumpet and thy life siâ—ent all this airy Musicke would give â—ut a dead accent Thy tongue praiseth â—or an houre let thy life praise for ever For as Divine praise in the mouth of a â—rophane sinner can send forth no sweet-smelling savour and Prayer the onely pretious pearle of a pure soule returnes without fruit when hypocriâ—ie seazeth on the heart and alâ— humane wisedome becomes folly being not directed to Gods Glory so unlesse thou O my Wounded Heart only love God for himselfe thy mixt anâ— devided love can returne no comforâ— nor profit to thy selfe It is this divinâ— and purely-refined love which onelâ— maketh a rich and wise Soule For without this what hath the wise more than thâ— fool what hath the poore that knoweth 〈◊〉 walke before the living Whatsoever 〈◊〉 by thee O my languishing heart abovâ— all others affected is by thee adored Preferre nothing in the true value oâ— love before Him that made thee leâ—â— thou make an Idoll of the Creature anâ— so dishonour Him who made all infâ—riour things to serve thee Doe thoâ— his will by serving Him and all hiâ— Creatures will serve thee accordinâ— to his will Yea even Hee who hath commanded the Morning and caused the day-spring to know his place shall shew the light of his Countenance upon thee and thy longing Eâ—res shall heare that voyce of comfort uttered by thine heavenly Spouse the fountaine of all comfort Thou art all faire my Love there is no spot in thee And in the affiance of his love to whom thou art espoused shall thy wounded Heart then cured returne turne this answer to thy Beloved My beloved is mine and I am his His left hand shall be under my head and his right hand shall embrace me The New Dresse OR Motives to a New life CONTEMPLATION III. O My Soule how long wilt thou â—ttire thy selfe in these ragges of Sinne how long in these 〈◊〉 of Shame when thine heavenly Bride groome comes Hâ—e will not endure to looke on thee hee can by no meanes like thee nor love thee nor espouse himselfe unto thee so long as these sullied garments of sinne cover thee To a cleane Lord must bee a cleane habitation A pure Heart must bee his Mansion purged by Faith adorned with good workes inflamed with heavenly thoughts No Edging of vanity no purle of vaine-glory no tinsell-lustre of hypocrisy must set forth thy Nuptiall garment for these would detract from thy Virgin-beauty Those Egyptian laces and Babylonian borders might attract a wandring eye but purely fixt be the eyes of thy Spouse Whatsoever is without thee cannot take him it is thine inward beauty that doth delight him Let thy affections then bee renewed thy Virgin-beauty restored thy deâ—aies
repaired Come not in his sight till thou hast put off those ragges of sinne and having put them off say with the Spouse in the Canticles I have put off my coâ—te how shall I put it on Let thy New Dresse be a New heart so shall thy Spouse take delight in thee with his sweete armes embrace thee and bee enamour'd of thee when hee lookes on thee and in the knowledge of thy beauty say thus unto thee Thou art all faire my love there is no spot in theâ— Cast thine eye all about thee O my Soule but let it not wander least thou loose thine honour Take a full view of the renuall of all Creatures and refâ—ect upon thy selfe who though Soveraignesse over all becomes least renued of all Thou seest the Heart the Eagle the Swallow how hey are reâ—â—ed nay even the Snake how by casting his Slough hee is renued Againe thou observest how yeeres dayes houres and minutes are renued how the Earth it selfe is renued Shee is with fresh flowers adorned with a native tapistry embrodered with a new beauty refreshed Meane time how art thou renued Where be those fresh fragrant flowers of divine graces and permanent beauties wherwith thou shouldst be adorned Must all things change for better and thou become ever worse in the sight of thy Maker None more inconstant than thou in humouring the fashions of our time none more constant than thou in reteining the fashion of sinne What canst thou see in thee that may please thee or appeare pleasing to Him that made thee Sinne is a Soile which blemisheth the beauty of thy Soule In this then to glory were the highest pitch of infelicity Thou art onely to approve that with a discreet Choice which may make thee most amiable in the sight of thy Spouse When thou eyest the vanity of Earth fix the eie of thine Heart on the eternity of heaven Mixe not thy delights in such Objects where surfet or excesse begets a loathing but in those lasting pleasures where fruition begets in thee an affectionate longing Fashion not thy selfe after this world where there is nothing that tempts but taints Desire rather to be numerous in houres than yeeres so dispose of thy time that time may bring thee to eternity Ever consider O my Soule how thou art heere in a Wildernesse and farre removed from the 〈◊〉 of true happinesse A Captives proper Melody is Lachrymae he cannot raise his voice to any other Note unlesse hee madde himselfe in his misâ—ry and forget his owne State Vye then in sighes with sinnes Take compassion of thy woefull condition Bee not commanded by thine Handmaid Restraine her lest shee grow imperious shew thy selfe a Mistresse that shee may become more obsequious Shee is worthy to obey that knowes not how to command Doe not loose thy Prerogative Preserve thy Style reteine thy State and make Her know how dangerous it is to incurre thine hate The more thou bringest her to contempt the more shalt thou partake of content Shouldst thou delicately feed her or in her desires supply her or loose thy reines and give liberty unto her shee would not sticke to deprive thee of thine honour and by thy unworthy â—ubjection become an usurping Co â—mmander To free thee from this danger let Devotion bee thy Succour so shall the Shadow of the Almighty bee thy Shelter Though the Servant earnestly desire the Shadow and the hireling looke for the reward of his worke or rather the end of the day to conclude his work tarry thou the Lords leasure with patience endure the heat of the day the weight of thy labour Though a Pilgrim be wearied he must not faile nor faint till his journey be ended Wherin Hee accompts himselfe so much the happier as hee is to his owne native Countrey neerer If thou fit and furnish thy selfe in all points for this journey thou shalt be joyfully received in thine arrivall to thy Countrey Runne then to the Goale which is set up for thee Strive to come to the marke which is before thee Let no impediments foreslow thee no delights on Eâ—rth divert thee Seale up thine eye if it wander but open it if it promise to fixe on thy Saviour Hourely thy dissolution is expected the Marriage-feast prepared thou invited Let thy garment be holinesse so shall thine end bee happinesse LOVES LEGACIE OR PANARETES Blessing to her Children DRaw neare mee and heare those last words which I must ever on Earth speake to you Sure I am that the dying words of a tender Mother cannot but fasten deeper and reteine a memory longer than the Speech of the movingst Oratour Feare God above all things it is the beginning of wisedome and will enrich you above your Portion You are now in your Childehood let that season you so shall His blessing who hath blessed mee crowne you Bee honest in your wayes spare in your words plenteous in good works Proportions God hath given you Portions by Gods providence I have left you enrich these with the best portion the ornament of vertue Specious Features are not to be valued to the precious embellishment of vertue Bee what you seeme to bee seeme what you ought to bee I never lov'd that Countenance which could promise much and performe nothing Ever reflect on Him that made you and make devotion your constant Diarie to conduct you Bee tender of those you ranke with either to better them or bee better'd by them Bee humble to all Humility is the way to Glory This it is will make you amiable to the Creature glorious in the sight of your Creator Learne how to obey that you may know better how to command In the consideration of humane infelicity there is nothing becomes more incurable than what is habituate when Custome of sinne takes away all sense of sinne In holy Places is the Devill ever busiest No disease more dangerous than the Lethargy of Sinne. This Sleepe brings ever an heavy awake for though like a tender Nurse She sing a sweet Lullabee to her deluded Childe it is ever in worser case the more it sleepes for it dyes in sinnes-slumber and perisheth untimely by the inchantment of her Mother Consider this my dearest ones Resist the Devill and bee will fly from you Suffer not the first motions of sinne to seaze on you Pray continually because you have an Enemy assayling you incessantly The Combat is short your Crowne eternall In the heat of the day thinke of the Evening The earnest-penny will recompence your paines Continue to the end and your reward shall be endlesse Bee not too curious in inquiring what you are to receive after this life but so labour that you may receive your reward of glory after this life Many by too curious an itching after whâ—t they were to receive have deceived themselves by loving their reward more than God Let nothing on Earth take your hearts Let the divine Love only possesse them so shall you finde
of griefe how glad would I To any forc'd Digression rather fly Than to our teare-swolne Subject where reliefe Hath made it selfe a Stranger to our griefe But now I haste to thee my Dearest Deare To shew what precious treasures stored were In thy religious bosome nor shall love Cause me speake more than I can duely prove FIRST for her nursing care Shee held no statâ— Fitter for Mothers than to educate Those they brought forth and make their life a line To teach their children how to spend their time And this shee did for ev'n her Nurserie Appear'd a private Schoole of industrie Where th' Elder taught and taskt the younger sort As th'Mother taught the Elder none fell short In their Endevours but if so they did They were by Her so sweetly chastized And rare is such discretion to be knowne Both Love and awe were foulded in her frowne Yea such a lovely reverence did attend her They 'd rather be corrected than offend her But no delitious fare could she endure Her Children to be us'd to but inure Their youth to timely Moderation now T' enable them when they should riper grow For she was wont to say When God shall call On us Heav'n knows in whose hands they may fall Let 's then so breed them as may best become them And to endure whats'ere may fall upon them With wholesome temperate dyet shee 'd supply The luscious fruits of Mothers vanity Observe this Mothers for'tis unto you I speake who so much delicacy shew To your too tender off-spring and like th' Ape Annoy them most of whom you most doe make Where be these native Arguments of love Which you expresse Or wherein doe you prove Your selves true Mothers none can gather this From pleasing of your Younglings with a kisse Or indiscreetest dandling on your knee Or cockring them with your indulgencie That you are naturall Mothers unlesse wee By naturall meane foolish so 't may bee You may be tender Ones I 'l not deny Who when they put their finger in the eye For such a forraine Fashion or a Feather Rather than grieve them you 'l deny them neitheâ— But cloath them in their folly but are these Expressions of Parentall Offices Oh no while you are thus indulgent to them Through too much love you utterly undoe them For when they are attyred gorgeously Their formall habits crave more liberty Their eyes must have new Objects which impart Secrets of love unto a wanton heart Dinah must roame abroad but ten to one She looseth honour ere she visit home Prevent this modest Matrons let no staine Impeach their youth vessels you know retaine A taste of their first liquor season them With that at first which may accomplish them All this my Deare One did and so must yee That hope to live in your posteritie NEXT Fame reares to her Name a monument For house-affaires and private Government While her well-guided Family might seeme A Patterne unto others to demeane Their actions by since all desires were bent To close in one harmonious consent No spleenefull Waspe might lodge within her roofe All discontented Spirits stood aloofe With willing care her pleasure all attend Fearing nâ—ught more than that they should offend For she with mildnesse did her Servants win Sweetning th' endevours they were busied in Yea so much had her candid nature wonne They Ev'ning joy'd ith'Day-works they had done How far swerve ye from th' Patterne instanc'd here Who o're your Servants use to domineere As if they were your Slaves which is no way To make your people cheerefully obey â—his but begets Eye-service at the best â—nd makes an Holy-Day when you 'r at rest Others there be who have occasion â—ought â—o beate their Servants though it were for nought Like Vedio who for breaking of a glasse Would drowne his Page let such Examples passe Unworthy your Observance better farre And to discretion farre more regular To imitate Architas who in 's field Finding his Servant loyt'ring would not yeeld Forthwith to Passion but intreats him thus Which may be presidentall unto us Sure I would beat thee were I not in anger But that secures thee for this time from danger But other vertues now I hasten to Which did my late endeared Spouse endow NEXT to the Love she to her Neighbours barâ—â— Than which no Creature ever had more share Were they infirme she would not nicely stand But to their griefes apply her helping hand And dresse their wounds her selfe for she was rare Both for her happy cure and holy care Herbals Shee 'd read but timorous to erre With men of choice Experience Shee 'd conferre Which so enabled her as she was still By doing good improving of her skill Not like blind Herbists whereof there be store Who have but one bare cure for every sore These if they kill they kill and if they cure Th' effect is farre above their reason sure Now to the last not least for it is this Which gives us speedy Convoy unto blisse And that was Strangers Hospitality Where her Provision ever would supply Their necessary wants nor all her timâ— Wherein her thoughts did ever close with mine Would she avert her eare from any one Who sorâ—eliefe did to her Portell come Her Cruse was ever open to the poore Calling them Schollers of our Saviour If they were old or feebly impotent An Almes with more bounty might be sent No Stranger ere did to her gate repaire Confin'd to anguish or surpriz'd with care Shee would not comfort and with dropping eye Afford compassion to their miserie None hungry but Shee 'd feed no thirsty wretch But Shee 'd refresh Nor naked but shee 'd fetch Garments to cover them How farre be yee From these expressive Acts of Charitie Who fed with Amber broaths delitious fare Have of your starved Sisters little care Their rags are your contempt their shreâ—kes cryeâ— Are boulted from your Eares fann'd from your eyes But how should you take pitty of these Elves Who have no greater pitty on your selves How should you couer them whom Colds molest Who will not cover your loose-bared Brest In sharpest ayres but rather starve your skin Than shroud th' coccasion of alluring sin O doe not so let gracious thoughts appeare To mould you to that Patterne you have heere But I must leave but never leave to love My glorious Saint which now is sphear'd above Who if shee daigne t' accept this Sacrifice Dipt in a throbbing heart and streaming eyes I 've got my Gole and shee a treble rest In Heav'n in Earth and in my naked brest When Just ones die then they to live begin They live to Siâ—n when they die to Sin FINIS THE DISTINT TITLES OF THESE CONTEMPLATIONS 1. The Soules Sole-Love 2. The Wounded Heart 3. The New Dresse WITH LOVES LEGACIE OR PANARETES Blessing to her Children Contemplations of PANARETE penned in the languishing time of her Sicknesse The Soules sole-Sole-Love CONTEMPLATION I. THou
hast my deare Soule engaged thy faith Thou hast betaken thy selfe to thine heavenly Spouse A devided Heart cannot live how shouldst thou live without thy sole-Sole-love Adulterine Colours cannot hold nor adulterate affections reteine their colour â—ezabels feature was more beholden to Art than Nature Such is the complexion of that love which makes lust her lure vaine is such a tincture that makes a serviâ—e desire her applyer Maiden honour consists not in formality There is ever something more reall in it Flourishes are but printed blossomes they may worke upon the outward sense they cannot captivate the Reason The inward beauty is of more extent than any outward varnish Thou hast reason O my Soule to preserve that which solely makes thee gracefull to thy Spouse Conceipt nothing seemely but what may beseeme him that made thee Thou art not made for a slavish fancy thou hast one sole-love to cleave to another were a frency Affection is no Tennis-Ball for strucke into anothers hazard it is lost One Sunne cannot shine in two spheares nor one spheare conteine two Sunnes The Sunne of Righteousnesse is the Spheare of my Soule she is a Planet when shee shines elsewhere Graces are divine beamelins the inward house is darke without them and these shine most when least interposed with any earthly clouds What is it O my Soule to sparkle like a Glo-worme by night or like rotten wood to send forth a deceiving splendor What is it with a glosse of dissembled purity to take the eies or eares of erring judgements Thou hast within thee to witnesse for thee or condemne thee Then even then my soule when the great Booke shal be opened the secret Cabbinet of thy retiredst thoughts unlocked and no subterfuge for guilt admitted thou shalt finde that good workes must passe for ill being not done well The intention then must crowne the action Almes with a trumpet Fasting with a dejected countenance Praying and Tithing with a Pharisaicall affiance must have no acceptance Bee thy discipline never so severe if it be not sincere it receives no reward Honour must not be thine harbour if devout intentions Crowne not thy labor Reflect on thy sweet Spouse and meditate of his Pilgrimage on earth Hee offered his childhood to a Cratch his youth to Care his Manhood to the Crosse. Hee entred the world naked He lived in it despised went from it with sorrowes burdned There was nothing so grievous which was not with patience suffred by him to make thee gracious in His sight who sent him Shall a little Cloud then change thy count'nance Shall a minutes distaste amate thee or make tâ—ee forgetfull of his sufferings who subjected himselfe to death for thee Who ever enjoyed a sweeter Spouse Hee confirm'd his love with the losse of his life and shall every small crosse in this life devide thee from his love Behold and see saith thy dis-passionate Spouse if there were ever Sorrow like to my Sorrow No my Sole-Love needs must thy Sorrow be great when with the offering up of thine owne precious life thou could'st hardly gaine any love The Rocks were dissolved the Temple divided the Graves opened the Heavens darkned all the Elements suffered yet Man for whom thou became Man and dyed became most hardned Lost wert thou O my Soule and eternally lost and to re-gaine thee He lost his owne life Such were those Adamantine tyes of his immutable love Many sheepe he had and those he left to seek thee lost so plenteously did those roseat Torrents of his sacred compassion flow to wash away those crimson-dyed sinnes which had left that dying tincture in thy wounded Soule How often hath he sought to gather thee and thou wouldst not to espouse thee to himselfe and thou assented not to bring thee to his Marriage-feast thou attended not Meane time when thou sawest a Thiefe thou runne with him and with the Inordinate devided thy portion both which with the cords of iniquity drew thee headlong to perdition Conceivest thou yet no compassion of thine unhappy condition shall not one poore teare witnesse thy contrition Wilt thou become of thy wounds so altogether unsensible as by thy want of sense to make them uncurable Runne to the Rocke and quencâ— thy thirst with those living streameâ— which flow from it Apply thy moutâ— to the hole of the pipe that thou maisâ— be refreshed Begge of Him water who shed for thee water and bloud Dry eyes will not bring thee to heaven Sinne is of such a deepe staine as true penitentiall teares are of onely forcâ— to take away that dye Thou seest thâ— Turtle how she mourneth for the lossâ— of her Mate The desert becomes heâ— Recluse consorrshe will not with any fearing to forget the occasion of heâ— misery Brouze she will not nor resâ— nor roust on any greene Branch Grieves are her inseparable Companions other Consorts she admits not because they suite not with her condition Contemplate these O my soule and reflect upon thy selfe Let thine eies be estrang'd from sleepe Let sighs and groanes be thy food Water thy Couch with incessant rivers of teares Great sinnes require great sighs perillous soares precious salves Consider poore Soule where thou art placed with what innumerable dangers inclosed againe how those which were given thee for defence are most ready to betray thee to thine enemy Againe reflect upon the benignity of thy good God who if he had beene as ready to punish thee for thy â—inne as thou hast been to commit sinne had long since drenched thee downe into that bottomlesse pit of eternall bitternesse Death had beene thy due and Hell thy Portion And canst thou now look upon thy selfe without loathing or consider thy wofull estate without trembling Was ever any one more bound to his Maker and lesse thankfull More watered with the sweet influence of his grace and lesse fruitfull In no place couldst thou promise to thy selfe pâ—ace within feares without fights Yet have the wings of the Almighty been so graciously spred over thee as neither feare could oppresse thee at home nor fury surprize thee abroad And this was His worke who hath so constantly lov'd thee as Hee would never leave thee For whensoever thou wandred he recalled thee when ignorant he taught thee when thougsinned hee corrected thee when sad hee comforted thee when desperate he supported thee when falne he raised thee when standing hee held thee when walking he guided thee when returning hee received thee when sleeping hee kept thee when crying hee heard thee What wilt thou render then O my Soule to Him who hath done such wonderfull things for thee Wilt thou stay in the Market-place idling Wilt thou addresse thy selfe to no employment in thy calling Is it enough for thee to reteine the style of a Christian presuming upon that style to corrupt the state of a Christian Wilt thou make thy whole life an Holy-day and by thy prophane conversation cloze it up with a fearefull day Wilt thou not yet