Bees do bring Honey in their mouths but in their tails a sting IV. PSALM 62. 9. To be laid in the ballance it is altogether lighter then vanitie 1 PUt in another weight 'T is yet too light And yet Fond Cupid put another in And yet another Still there 's under weight Put in another hundred Put agin Adde world to world then heap a thousand more To that then to renew thy wasted store Take up more worlds on trust to draw thy balance lower 2 Put in the flesh with all her loads of pleasure Put in great Mammons endlesse inventory Put in the pond'rous acts of mighty Cesar Put in the greater weight of Swedens glory Adde Sâ—…pio's gauntlet put in Plato's gown Put Circes charms put in the triple crown Thy balance will not draw thy balance will not down 3 Lord what a world is this which day and night Men seek with so much toyl with so much trouble Which weigh'd in equall scales is found so light So poorly over-balanc'd with a bubble Good God! that frantick mortals should destroy Their higher hopes and place their idle joy Upon such airy trash upon so light a toy 4 Thou bold Impostour how hast thou befool'd The tribe of Man with counterfeit dâ—…sire How has the breath of thy false bellows cool'd Heav'ns free-born flames and kindled bastard fire How hast thou vented drosse in stead of treasure And cheated man with thy false weights and measure Proclaiming bad for good and gilding death with pleasure 5 The world 's a craftie Strumpet most affecting And closely following those that most reject her But seeming carelesse nicely disrespecting And coyly flying those that most affect her If thou be free she 's strange if strange she 's free Flee and she follows Follow and she 'll flee Then she there 's none more coy there 's none more fond then she 6 O what a Crocodilian world is this Compos'd of treacheries and ensnaring wiles She cloaths destruction in a foâ—…mall kisse And lodges death in her deceitsull smiles She hugs the soul she hates and there does prove The veriest tyrant where she vowes to love And is a Serpent most when most she seems a Dove 7 Thrice happy he whose nobler thoughts despise To make an object of so easie gains Thrice happy he who scorns so poore a prize Should be the crown of his heroick pains Thrice happy he that ne'r was born to trie Her frowns or smiles or being born did lie In his sad nurses arms an houre or two and die S. AUGUST lib. Confess O you that dote upon this world for what victory do ye sight Your hopes can be crowned with no greater reward then the world can give and what is the world but a brittle thing full of dangers wherein we travel from lesser to greater perils O let all her vain light and momentany glory perish with her self and let us be conversant with more eternall things Alas this world is miserable life is short and death is sure EPIG. 4. My soul what 's lighter then a feather wind Then wind The fire And what then fire The mind What 's lighter then the mind A thought Then thought This bubble-world What then this bubble Nought V. 1. COR. 7. 31. The fashion of this world passeth away GOne are those golden dayes wherein Pale conscience started not at ugly sinne When good old Satuâ—…nes peacefull Throne Was unusurped by his beardlesse Son When jealous Ops ne'r fear'd th' abuse Of her chast bed or breach of nuptiall Truce When just Astraea poys'd her Scales In mortall hearts whose absence earth bewails When froth-born Venus and her brat With all that spurious brood young Jove begat In horrid shapes were yet unknowne Those Halcyon dayes that golden age is gone There was no Client then to wait The leisure of his long-tayl'd Advocate The Talion Law was in request And Chaunc'ry courts were kept in ev'ry brest Abused Statutes had no Tenters And men could deal secure without indentures There was no peeping hole to clear The Wittals eye from his incarnate fear There were no lustfull Cinders then To broyl the Carbonado'd hearts of men The rosie cheek did then proclaim A shame of Guilt but not a guilt of shame There was no whining soul to start At Cuâ—…ids twang or curle his flaming 〈◊〉 The Boy had then but callow wings And fell Erynnis Scorpions had no stings The better-acted world did move Upon the fixed poles of Truth and Love Love essenc'd in the hearts of men Then Reason rul'd there was no Passion then Till Lust and Rage began to enter Love the Circumference was and love the Center Untill the wanton dayes of Iove The simple world was all compos'd of Love But Iove grew fleshly false unjust Inferiour beautie sill'd his veins with lust And Cucquean Iuno's fury hurld Fierce balls of rage into th' incestuous world Astraea fled and love return'd From earth earth boyl'd with lust with rage it burn'd And ever since the world has been Kept going with the scourge of Lust and Spleen S. AMBROS. Lust is a sharp spur to vice which alwayes putteth the affections into a false gallop HUGO Lust is an immoderate wantonnesse of the slesh a sweet poyson a cruel 〈◊〉 a pernicious potion which weakeneth the body of man and esseminateth the strength of an heroick mind S. AUGUST Envy is the hatred of anothers felicitie in respect of Superiours because they are not equall to them in respect of Inseriours lest be should be equall to them in respect of equalls because they are equall to them Through envy proceeded the fall of the world and the death of Christ EPIG. 5. What Cupid must the world be lasht so soon But made at morning and be whipt at noon 'T is like the wagge that playes with Venus Doves The more 't is lasht the more perverse it proves VI ECCLES. 2. 17. All is vanitie and vexation of spirit 1 HOw is the anxious soul of man befool'd In his desire That thinks an Hectick sever may be cool'd In stames of fire Or hopes to rake full heaps of burnisht gold From nasty mire A whining Lover may as well request A scornfull breast To melt in gentle tears as woo the world for rest 2 Let wit and all her studied plots effect The best they can Let smiling Fortune prosper and perfect What wit began Let earth advise with both and so project A happy man Let wit or fawning Fortune vie their best He may be blest With all that earth can give but earth can give no rest 3 Whose gold is double with a carefull hand His cares are double The pleasure honour wealth of sea and land Bring but a trouble The world it self and all the worlds command Is but a bubble The strong desites of mans insâ—…tiate breast May stand possest Of all that earth can give but earth can give no rest 4 The world 's a seeming Par'dise but her own And mans tormenter Appearing sixt yet but a rolling stone
Let Hymens easie snarles be quite forgot Time cannâ—…t quench our â—…ites nor death dissolve our knot ORIG. Hom. 10. in divers O most holy Lord and sweetest Master how good art thou to those that are of upright heart and humble spirit O how blessed are they that seek thee with a simple heart How happy that trust in thee It is a most certain truth that thou lovest all that love thee and never forsakest those that trust in thee For behold thy Love simply sought thee and undoubtedly found thee She trusted in thee and is not forsaken of thee but hath obtained more by thee then she expected from thee BEDA in cap. 3. Cant. The longer I was in finding whom I sought the more earnestly I held him beâ—…ng found EPIG. 12. What found him out let strong embraces bind him He 'll fly perchance where tears can never find him New sinnes will lose what old repentance gains Wisedome not onely gets but got retains XIII PSALM 72. 28. It is good for me to draw near to God I have put my trust in the Lord God WHere is that Good which wisemen please to call The Chiefest Doth there any such befall Within mans reach Or is there such a Good at all If such there be it neither must expire Nor change then which there can be nothing higher Such Good must be the utter point of mans desire It is the Mark to which all hâ—…arts must tend Can be desired for no other end Then for it self on which all other goods depend What may this Excellence be doth it subsist A reall Essence clouded in the midst Of cuâ—…ious Art or clear to ev'ry eye that list Or is 't a tart Idea to procure An edge and keep the practick soul in ure Like that dear Chymick dust or puzzling Quadrature Where shall I seek this Good where shall I find This Cath'lick pleasure whose extremes may bind My thoughts and fill the gulf of my insatiate mind Lies it in Treasure In full heaps untold Doth gowty Mammous griping hand infold This secret Saint in sacred shrines of sov'reigne gold No no she lies not there wealth often sowrs In keeping makes us hers in seeming ours She slides from Heav'n indeed but not in Danat's showrs Lives she in honour no The royall Crown Builds up a creature and then batters down Kings raise thee with a smile and raze thee with a frown In pleasure no Pleasure begins in rage Acts the fools part on earths uncertain stage Begins the Play in youth and Epilogues in age These these are bastard-goods the best of these Torment the soul with pleasing it and please Like water gulp'd in fevers with deceitfull ease Earths flatt'ring dainties are but sweet distresses Mole-hils perform the mountains she professes Alas can earth confer more good then earth possesses Mounâ—… mount my soul and let thy thoughts cashier Earths vain delights and make their full carier At Heav'ns eternall joyes stop stop thy Courser there There shall thy soul possesse uncarefull treasure There shalt thou swim in never-sading pleasure And blaze in honour farre above the frowns of Caesar Lord if my hoâ—…e dare let her anchor fall On thee the chiefest Good no need to call For earths inferiour trash Thou thou art All in All S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 13. I follow this thing I pursue that but am filled with nothing But when I found thee who aâ—…t that immutable individed and onely good in my self what I obtained I wanted not for what I obtained not I grieved not with wâ—…at I was possest 〈◊〉 whole desire was 〈◊〉 S. BERN. Ser. 9. sup beati qui habent c. Let others pâ—…etend merit let him bâ—…ag of the burden of the day let him boast of his Sabbath fasts and let him glory that 〈◊〉 is not as other men but for me it is good to cleaâ—…e unto the Lord and to put my trust in my Lord God EPG 13. Let Boâ—…eas blasts and Nepâ—…unes waves be joyn'd Thy Eolus commands the waves the wind Fear not the rocks or worlds imperious waves Thou climbst a rock my soul a rock that saves XIV CANTICLES 2. 3. I sat under his shadow with great delight and his fruit was sweet to my tast 1 LOok how the sheep whose rambling steps do stray From the safe blessing of her Shepherds eyes Estsoon becomes the unprotected prey To the wing'd squadron of beleagring slies Where swelired with the scorching beams of day She frisks from bush to brake and wildly flies From her own self ev'n of her self afraid She shrouds her troubled brows in ev'ry glade And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade 2 Ev'n so my wand'ring Soul that hath digrest From her great Shepherd is the hourely prey Of all my sinnes These vultures in my breast Gripe my Promethean heart both night and day I hunt from place to place but sind no rest I know not where to go nor where to stay The eye of vengeance burns her flames invade My swelt'ring soul My soul hath oft assaid But she can find no shrowd but she can feel no shade 3 I sought the shades of Mitth to wear away My slow-pac'd hours of soul-consuming grief I search'd the shades of sleep to ease my day Of griping sorrows with a nights reprief I sought the shades of death thought there t' allay My finall torments with a full relief But mirth nor sleep nor death can hide my houres In the false shades of their deceitfull bowrs The first distracts the next disturbs the last devours 4 Where shall I 〈◊〉 To whom shall I apply 〈◊〉 Are there no streams where a faint soul may wade Thy Godhead JESUS are the flames that fry me Hath thy All-glorious Deity never a shade Where I may sit and vengeance never eye me Where I might sit refresht or 〈◊〉 Is there no comfort Is there no resection Is there no cover that will give protection T' a fainting soul the subject of thy wraths 〈◊〉 5 Look up my soul advance the lowly stature Of thy sad thoughts advance thy humble eye See here 's a shadow found The humane nature Is made the Umbella to the Deity To catch the Sun-beams of thy just Creatour Beneath this covert thou maist safely lie 〈◊〉 thine eyes to climbe this fruitfull tree As quick Zacheus did and thou shalt see A cloud of dying flesh betwixt those beams and thee GUILL in cap. 2. Cant. Who can indure the 〈◊〉 rayes of the Sunne of Justice Who shall not be consumed by his beams Therefore the Sun of Justice took flesh that through the conjunction of that Sun and this humane body a shadow may be made S. AUGUST Med. cap. 37. Lord let my soul flee from the scorching thoughts of the world under the covert of thy wings that being resreshed by the moderation of thy shadow she may sing merrily In peace will I lay me down and rest 〈◊〉 14. Ah treach'rous soul would not thy pleasures give That Lord which made thee living leave to
EPIG. 8. What ayls the fool to laugh Does something please His vain conceit Or is 't a mere disease Fool giggle on and wast thy wanton breath Thy morning laughter breeds an ev'ning death IX 1. JOHN 2. 17. The world passeth away and all the lusts thereof 1 DRaw near brave sparks whose spirits scorn to light Your hallow'd tapours but at honours flame You whose heroick actions take delight To varnish over a new-painted name Whose high-bred thoughts disdain to take their slight But on th' Icarian wings of babbling fame Behold how tott'ring are your high-built stories Of earth whereon you trust the ground-work of your glories 2 And you more brain-sick Lovers that can prise A wanton smile before eternall joyes That know no heav'n but in your Mistresse eyes That feel no pleasure but what sense enjoyes That can like crown-distemper'd fools despise True riches and like babies whine for toyes Think ye the Pageants of your hopes are able To stand secure â—…n earth when earth it self 's unstable 3 Come dunghill worldlings you that â—…oot like swine And cast up golden trenches where ye come Whose onely pleasure is to undermine And view the secrets of your mothers wombe Come bring your Saint pâ—…uch'd in his leather â—…hrine And summon all yoâ—… griping Angels home Behold your world the bank of all your store The world 〈◊〉 so admire the worlâ—… ye so adore 4 A feeble world whose hot-mouth'd pleasures tire Before the race before the start retrait A faithlesse world whose false delights expire Before the term of half their promis'd date A fickle world not worth the least desire Where ev'ry chance proclaims a change of State A feeble faithlesse sickle world wherein Each motion proves a vice and ev'ry act a sin 5 The beautie that of late was in her flowre Is now a ruine not to raise a lust He that was lately drench'd in 〈◊〉 showre Is master now of neither gold nor trust Whose honour late was mann'd with princely powre His glory now lies buried in the dust O who would trust this world or prize what 's in it That gives and takes and chops and changes ev'ry minit 6 Nor length of dayes nor solid strength of brain Can find a place wherein to rest secure The world is various and the earth is vain There 's nothing certain here there 's nothing sure We trudge we travel but from pain to pain And what 's our onely grief's 〈◊〉 onely cure The world 's a torment he that would endeaver To find the way to rest must seek the way to leave her S. GREG. in ho Behold the world is withered in it self yet flourisheth in our hearts every where death every where grief every where 〈◊〉 On every side we are smitten on every side filled with bitternesse and yet with the blind mind of carnall desire we love her bitternesse It 〈◊〉 and we follow it it falleth yet we stick to it And because we 〈◊〉 enjoy it fallen we sall with it and enjoy it sallen 〈◊〉 9. If Fortune hale or envious Time but spurn The world turns round and with the world we turn When Fortune sees and Lynx-ey'd Time is blind I 'll trust trust thy joyes O world till then the wind X. JOHN 8. 44. Ye are of your father the devil and the lusts of your father ye will do HEre 's your right ground wagge gently o'r this black 'T is a short cast y' are quickly at the jack Rub rub an inch or two two crowns to one On this bouls side blow wind 't is fairly thrown The next boul 's worse that comes come boul away Mammon you know the ground untutour'd play Your last was gone a yard of strength well spar'd Had touch'd the block your hand is still too hard Brave pastime 〈◊〉 to consume that day Which without pastime slies too swift away See how they labour as if day and night Were both too short to serve their loose delight See how their curved bodies wreath and 〈◊〉 Such antick shapes as Proteus never knew One raps an oath another deals a 〈◊〉 He never better boul'd this never worse One rubs his itchlesse elbow thrugs and laughs The tother bends his beetle-browes and chafes Sometime they whoop sometimes their Stygian cries Send their black-Santos to the blushing skies Thus mingling humours in a mad 〈◊〉 They make bad Premises and worse Conclusion But where 's the Palm that Fortunes hand allowes To blesse the victours honourable 〈◊〉 Come Reader come I 'll light thine eye the way To view the Prize the while the gamesters play Close by the jack behold gill fortune stands Tâ—… wave the game see in her partiall hands The glorious garland's held in open show To chear the Lads and crown the Conq'rours brow The world 's the jack the gamesters that contend Are Cupid Mammon that judicious Friend That gives the ground is Satan and the boules Are sinfull thoughts the Prize a crown for fools Who breathes that boules not what bold tongue can say Without a blush he hath not boul'd to day It is the trade of man and every sinner Has plaid his rubbers Every soule 's a winner The vulgar Proverb 's crost He hardly can Be a good bouler and an honest man Good God turn thou my Brazil thoughts a new New sole my boules and make their bias true I 'll cease to game till fairer ground be given Nor wish to winne untill the mark be heaven S. BERNARD lib. de Consid. O you Sonnes of Adam you covetous generation what have ye to do with earthly riches which are neither true nor yours Gold and silver are reall earth red and white which the onely errour os man makes or rather reputes pretious In short if they be yours carry them with you S. HIEROME in Ep. O Lust thou inferâ—…all fire whose fuell is gluttony whose flame is pride whose sparkles are wanton words whose smoke is infamie whose ashes are uncleannesse whose end is hell EPIG. 10. 〈◊〉 well follow'd Cupid bravely led Both Touchers equall Fortune makes a dead No reed can measure where the conquest lies Take my advise compound and share the Prize XI EPHESIANS 2. 2. Ye walked according to the course of this world according to the Prince of the aire 1 O Whither will this mad-brain world at last Be driv'n where will her restlesse wheels arive Why hurries on her ill-match'd payre so fast O whither means her 〈◊〉 groom to drive What will her â—…ambling sits be never past For ever ranging never once 〈◊〉 Will earths perpetuall progresse ne'r expire Her Team continuing in their fresh careire And yet they never rest and yet they never tire 2 Sols hot-mouth'd steeds whose noslrils vomit flame And brazâ—…n lungs 〈◊〉 forth quotidian fire Their twelve houres task perform'd grow 〈◊〉 and lame And their immortall spirits faint and tire At th' azure mountains foot their labours claim The priviledge of rest where they retire To quench their burning 〈◊〉 and to steep Their flaming nostrils
châ—…ldren whine for toyes S. BERN. That is the true and chief joy which is not conceived from the creature but received from the Creatoâ—… which being once possest thereof none can take from thee whereto all pleasâ—…e being compared is torment all joy is grief sweet things are bitter all glory is baâ—…enesse and all deâ—…ectable things are despicable S. BERN. Joy in a changeable subject must necessarily change as the subject changeth EPIG. 8. Peace childish Cupid peace thy singer'd eye But crios for what in time will make thee cry But are thy peevish wranglings thus appeas'd Well maist thou cry that art so poorely pleas'd IX ISAIAH 10. 3. What will ye do in the day of your visitation to whom will ye â—…lie for help and where will ye leave your glory 1 IS this that jolly God whose Cyprian bowe Has shot so many flaming darts And made so many wounded Beauties go Sadly perplext with whimp'ring hearts Is this that Sov'raign Deity that brings The slavish world in awe and stâ—…ngs The blund'ring souls of swains and stoops the hearts of Kings 2 What Circean chaâ—…m what Hecatean spight Has thus abus'd the Gâ—…d of love Great Jove was vanquisht by his greater might And who is stronger-arm'd then Jove Or has our lustâ—…ull god persorm'd a rape And fearing Argus eyes would scape The view of jealous earth in this prodigious shape 3 Where be those rosie cheeks that lately scorn'd The malice of injurious Fates Ah where 's that pearl Percullis that adorn'd Those dainty two-leav'd Ruby gates Where be those killing eyes that so controul'd The world And locks that did infold Like knots of flaming wire like curles of burnisht gold 4 No no 't was neither Heâ—…tean spite Nor charm below nor pow'r above 'T was neither Circes spell nor Stygian sprite That thus transform'd our god of Love 'T was owl-eyed Lust more potent farre then they Whose eyes and actions hate the day Whom all the world observe whom all the world obay 5 Se how the latter Trumpets dreadfull blast Affrights stout Mars his tâ—…embling son Se how he startles how he stands agast And scrambles from his melting Throne Hark how the direfull hand of vengeance tears The swelt'ring clouds whilst Heav'n appears A ciâ—…cle fill'd with flame and center'd with his fears 6 This is that day whose oft report hath woâ—…n Neglected tongues of Prophets bare The faithlesse subject of the worldlings scorn The summe of men and Angels pray'r This this the day whose All-discerning light Ransacks the secret dens of night And severs good from bad true joyes from false delight 7 You grov'ling worldings you whose wisdome trades Where light nev'r shot his golden â—…ay That hide your actions in Cimeriâ—…n â—…des How will your eyes indure this day Hills will be deaf and mountains will not heaâ—… There be no caves no corners there To shade your souls from fire to shield your hearts from fear HUGO O the extreme loath loathsomnesse of fleshly lust which not onely â—…sseminates the mind but eneâ—…ves the body which not onely diâ—…taineth the soul but disguiseth the 〈◊〉 It is â—…hered with fury and wantonnesse it is accompanied with â—…ury and wantonnesse and it is followed with grief and râ—…ntance EPIG. 9. What sweet-fac'd Cupid has thy bastard-treasure Thy boasted honours and thy bold-fac'd pleasure Perplext thee now I told thee long ago To what they 'd bring thee fool To wit to woe X. NAHâ—…M 2. 10. She is emptie and void and waste 1 SHe 's emptie hark she sounds there 's nothing there But noyse to fill thy eare Thy vain enquiry can at length but find A blast of murm'ring wind It is a cask that seems as full as fair But merely tunn'd with aire Fond youth go build thy hopes on better grounds The soul that vainly founds Her joyes upon this world but feeds on emptie sounds 2 She 's emptie hark she sounds there 's nothing in 't The spark-ingend'ring â—…lint Shall sooner melt and hardest raunce shall first Dissolve and quench thy thirst E'r this false world shall still thy stormy breast With smooth fac'd calms of rest Thou mayst as well expect Meridian light From shades of black-mouth'd night As in this emptie world to find a full delight 3 She 's empty hark she sounds 't is void and vast What if some flatt'ring blast Of flatâ—…ous honour should perchance be there And whisper in thine earâ—… It is but wind and blows but where it list And vanishâ—…s like a mist Poore honour earth can give What gen'rous mind Would be so base to bind Her Heav'n-bred soul a slave to serve a blast of wind 4 She 's empty hark she sounds 't is but a ball For fools to play withall The painted silm but of a stronger bubble That 's lin'd with silken trouble It is a world whose work and recreation Is vanity and vexation A Hagg repair'd with vice-complexion paint A quest-house of complaint It is a saint a fiend worse fiend when most a saint 5 She 's empty hark she â—…ounds 't is vain and void What 's here to be enjoyed But grief and sicknesse and large bills of sorrow Drawn now and crost to morrow Or what are men but puffs of dying breath Reviv'd with living death Fond laâ—… O build thy hopes on surer grounds Then what dull flesh propounds Truâ—… not this hollow world she 's empty hark she sounds S. CHRYS. in Ep. ad Heb. Contemne riches and thou shalt be rich contemne glory and thou shalt be glorious contemne injuries and thou shalt be a conquerour consemne rest and thou shalt gain rest contemne earth and thou shalt find Heaven EPIG. lib. de Vanit mundi The world is a vanity which affordeth neither beauty to the amorous nor reward to the laborious nor incouragement to the industrious EPIG. 10. This house is to be let for life or years Her rent is sorrow and her In-come tears Cupid 't 'as long stood void her bills make known She must be dearly let or let alone XI MATTHEW 7. 14. Narrow is the way that leadeth unto life and few there be that find it PRepost'rous fool thou troul'st amisse Thou err'st that 's not the way 't is this Thy hopes instructed by thine eye Make thee appear more near then I My floore is not so flat so fine And has more obvious rubs then thine 'T is true my way is hard and strait And leads me through a thorny â—…ate Whose ranckling pricks are sharp and fell The common way to Heav'n 's by hell 'T is true thy path is short and fair And free of rubs Ah fool beware The safest road 's not alwayes ev'n The way to Hell 's a seeming Heav'n Think'st thou the Crown of Glory 's had With idle ease fond Cyprian lad Think'st thou that mirth and vain delights High feed and shadow-shortning nights Soft knees full bones and beds of down Are proper Prologues to a Crown Or canst thou hope to come and view Like prosperous Caesar and subdue The
sinfull flesh and bloud To lend the smallest step to what is good My God I cannot move the least degree Ah! If but onely those that active be None should thy glory see none should thy glory see But if the Potter please t' inform the clay Or some strong hand remove the block away Their lowly fortunes soon are mounted higher That proves a vessâ—…l which before was mire And this being hewn may serve for better use then sire And if that life-restoring voyce command Dead Laz'rus forth or that great Prophets hand Should charm the sullen waters and begin To becken or to dart a stick but in Dead Laz'rus must revive and th' Axe must sloat again Lord as I am I have no pow'r at all To heare thy voyce or echo to thy call The gloomy Clouds of mine own guilt benight me Thy glorious beams nor dainty sweets invite me They neithâ—…r can direct nor these at all delight me See how my sin-bemangled body lies Nor having pow'r to will nor will to rise Shine home upon thy Creature and inspire My livelesse will with thy regen'rate fiâ—…e The first degree to do is onely to desire Give me the pow'r to will the will to do O raise me up and I will strive to go Draw me O draw me with thy treble twist That have no pow'r but merely to resist O lend me strength to do and then command thy list My Soul 's a Clock whose wheels for want of use And winding up being subject to th' abuse Of eating â—…ust wants vigour to fulfill Her twelve houres task and shew her makers skill But idly sleeps unmov'd and standeth vainly still Great God it is thy work and therefore good If thou be pleas'd to cleanse it with thy blood And wind it up with thy soul-moving keyes Her busie wheels shall serve thee all her dayes Her hand shall point thy pow'r her hammer strike thy praise S. BERN. Serm. 21. in Cant. Let us run let us run but in the savour of thy Ointments not in the confidence of our merits nor in the greatnesse of our strength we trust to run but in the multitude of thy mercies for though we run and are willing it is not in him that willeth nor in him that runneth but in God that sheweth mercy O let thy mercy return and we will run Thou like a Gâ—…ant runnest by thy own power we unlesse thy ointment breath upon us cannot run EPIG. 8. Look not my Watch being once repair'd to stand Expecting motion from thy Makers hand H' as wound thee up and cleans'd thy Cogs with blood If now thy wheels stand still thou art not good IX CANTICLES 8. 1. O that thou wert as my brother that sucked the breasts of my mother I would find thee without and I would kisse thee 1 COme come my blessed Infant and immure thee Within the Temple of my sacred arms Secure mine arms mine arms shall then secure thee From Herods fury or the high-Priests harms Or if thy danger'd life sustain a losse My folded arms shall turn thy dying crosse 2 But ah what savage Tyrant can behold The beauty of so sweet a face as this is And not himself be by himself controul'd And change his fury to a thousand kisses One smile of thine is worth more mines of treasure Then there be Myriads in the dayes of Cesar 3 O had the Tetrarch as he knew thy birth So known thy stock he had not sought to paddle In thy dear bloud but prostrate on the earth Had vaild his Crown before thy royall Cradle And laid the Sceptre of his Glory down And begg'd a Heav'nly for an Earthly Crown 4 Illustrious Babe how is thy handmaid grac'd With a rich armfull how dost thou decline Thy Majesty that wert so late embrac'd In thy great Fathers arms and now in mine How humbly gracious art thou to refresh Me with thy Spirit and assume my flesh 5 But must the treason of a traitours Hail Abuse the sweetnesse of these â—…uby lips Shall marble-hearted cruelty assâ—…il These Alabaster sides with knotted whips And must these smiling Roses entertain The blows of scorn and flurts of base disdain 6 Ah! must these dainty liâ—…tle sprigs that twine So fast about my neck be pieâ—…c'd and torn With ragged nails and must these brows resigne Their Crown of Glory for a crown of thorn Ah must this blessed Infant tast the pain Of deaths injurious pangs nay worse be slain 7 Sweet Baâ—…e At what dear rates do wretched I Commit a sinne Lord ev'ry sin 's a dart And ev'ry trâ—…spasse lets a javelin slie And ev'ry javelin wounds thy bleeding heart Pardon sweet Babe what I have done amisse And seal that granted pardon with a kisse BONAVENT Soliloqu Cap. 1. O sweet Jesu I knew not that thy kisses were so sweet nor thy society so sweet nor thy attraction so vertuous For when I love thee I am clean when I touch thee I am chast when I receive thee I am a virgin O most sweet Jesu thy embraces defile not but cleanse thy attraction polluteth not but sanctifieth O Jesu the Fountain of uniâ—…ersall sweetnesse pardon me that I believed so late that so much sweetnesse is in thy embraces EPIG. 9. My burden 's greatest Let not Aâ—…las boast Impartiall Reader judge which bears the most He bears but Heav'n my folded arms sustain Heav'ns maker whom Heav'ns Heav'n cannot contain X. CANTICLES 3. 1. In my bed by night I sought him that my soul loved I sought him but I found him not THe learned Cynick having lost the way To honest men did in the height of day By Taper-light divide his steps about The peopled streets to find this dainty out But fail'd The Cynick search'd not where he ought The thing he sought for was not where he sought The Wisemens task seem'd harder to be done The Wisemen did by Staire-light seek the Sonne And found the Wisemen search'd it where they ought The thing they hop'd to find was where they sought One seeks his wishes where he should but then Perchance he seeks not as he should nor when Another searches when he should but there He fails not seeking as he should nor where Whose soul desires the good it wants and would Obtain must seek Where As and When he should How often have my wild affections led My wasted soul to this my widdow'd bed To seek my Lover whom my soul desires I speak not Cupid of thy wanton fires Thy fires are all but dying sparks to mine My flames are full of Heav'n and all Divine How often have I sought this bed by night To find that greater by this lesser light How oft have my unwitnest grones lamented Thy dearest absence Ah how often vented The bitter tempests of despairing breath And tost my soul upon the waves of death How often has my melting heart made choice Of silent tears tears louder then a voyce To plead my grief and woo thy absent eare And yet thou wilt not come thou wilt
fruitfull grove To cool my palate and renew my sent For I am sick for I am sick of love These will revive my dry my wasted pow'rs And they will sweeten my unsav'ry houres Refresh me then with fruit and comfort me with flow'rs 3 O bring me apples to asswage that fire Which Aetna-like inflames my flaming breast Nor is it every apple I desire Nor that which pleases every palate best 'T is not the lasting Deuzan I require Nor yet the red-cheek'd Queening I request Nor that which first bethrewd the name of wife Nor that whose beauty caus'd the golden strife No no bring me an apple from the tree of life 4 Virgins tuck up your silken laps and fill ye With the fair wealth of Floras Magazine The purple violet and the pale-fac'd lilly The pancy and the organ colombine The flowring thyme the guilt-boul daffadilly The lowly pink the lofty eglentine The blushing rose the queen of flowers and best Of Floras beauty but above the rest Let Jesses sovereigne flower perfume my qualming breast 5 Haste Virgins haste for I lie weak and faint Beneath the 〈◊〉 of love why stand ye mute As if your silence neither car'd to grant Nor yet your language to deny my suit No key can lock the doore of my complaint Untill I smell this flower or tast that fruit Go Virgins seek this tree and search that how'râ—… O how my soul shall blesse that happy houre That brings to me such fruit that brings me such a flower GISTEN in cap. 2. Cant. Expos. 3. O happy sicknesse where the infirmitie is not to death but 〈◊〉 life that God may be glorified by it O happy sever that procedeth not from a consuming but a calcining sire O happy â—…emper wherein the soul relisheth no earthly things but onely savoureth divine nourishment S. BERN. Serm. 51. in Cant. By flowers understand faith by fruit good works As the flower or blossome is before the fruit so is saith before good works So neither is the fruit without the flower nor good works without faith EPIG. 2. Why apples O my soul Can they remove The pangs of grief or ease the flames of love It was that fruit which gave the first offence That sent him hither 〈◊〉 that remov'd him hence III. CANTICLES 2. 16. My beloved is mine and I am his He feedeth among the lillies 1 EV'n like two little bank-dividing brooks That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams And having rang'd and search'd a thousand nooks Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames Where in a greater current they conjoyn So I my best-beloveds am so he is mine 2 Ev'n so we met and after long pursuit Ev'n so we joyn'd we both became entire No need for either to renew a suit For I was flax and he was flames of sire Our firm united souls did more then twine So I my best-beloveds am so he is mine 3 If all those glitt'ring Monarchs that command The servile quarters of this earthly ball Should tender in exchange their shares of land I would not change my fortunes for them all Their wealth is but a counter to my coin The world 's but theirs but my beloved's mine 4 Nay more If the fair Thespian Ladies all Should heap together their diviner treasure That treasure should be deem'd a price too small To buy a minutes lease of half my pleasure 'T is not the sacred wealth of all the nine Can buy my heart from him or his from being mine 5 Nor Time nor Place nor Chance nor Death can bow My least desires unto the least remove He 's firmly mine by oath I his by vow He 's mine by faith and I am his by love He 's mine by water I am his by wine Thus I my best-beloveds am thus he is mine 6 He is my Altar I his Holy Place I am his guest and he my living food I 'm his by penitence he mine by grace I 'm his by purchase he is mine by bloud He 's my supporting elm and I his vine Thus I my best-beloveds am thus he is mine 7 He gives me wealth I give him all my vows I give him songs he gives me length of dayes With wreaths of grace he crowns my conqu'ring brows And I his Temples with a crown of Praise Which he accepts as an ev'rlasting signe That I my best-beloveds am that he is mine S. AUGUST Manu cap. 24. O my soul stampt with the image of thy God love him of whom thou art so much beloved bend to him that boweth to thee seek him that seeketh thee Love thy lover by whose love thou art prevented being the cause of thy love Be carefull with those that are carefull want with those that want be clean with the clean and holy with the holy choose this sriend above all friends who when all are taken away remaineth onely faithfull to thee In the day of thy buriall when all leave thee he will not deceive thee but defend thee from the roaring Lions prepared for their prey EPIO. 3. Sing Hymen to my soul What lost and found Welcom'd espous'd enjoy'd so soon and crown'dâ—… He did but climb the Crosse and then came down 〈◊〉 gates of hell triumph'd and fetch'd a Crown IV. CANTICLES 7. 10. I am my Beloveds and his desire is towards me 1 LIke to the Artick needle that doth guide The wand'ring shade by his Magnetick pow'r And leaves his silken Gnomon to decide The question of the controverted houre First franticks up and down from side to side And restlesse beats his crystall'd Iv'ry case With vain impatience jets from place to place And seeks the bosome of his frozen bride At length he slacks his motion and doth rest His trembling point at his bright Poles beloved brest 2 Ev'n so my soul being hurried here and there By ev'ry object that presents delight Fain would be settled but she knowes not where She likes at morning what she loaths at night She bowes to honour then she lends an eare To that sweet swan-like voyce of dying pleasure Then tumbles in the scatter'd heaps of treasure Now flatter'd with false hope now foyl'd with fear Thus finding all the worlds delights to be But empty toyes good God she points alone to thee 3 But hath the virtued steel a power to move Or can the untouch'd needle point aright Or can my wandring thoughts forbear to rove Unguided by the virtue of thy spirit O hath my leaden soul the art t' improve Her wasted talent and unrais'd aspire In this sad moulting time of her desire Not first belov'd have I the power to love I cannot stirre but as thou please to move me Nor can my heart return thee love untill thou love me 4 The still Commandresse of the silent night Borrows her beams from her bright brothers eye His fair aspect filles her sharp horns with light If he withdraw her flames are quench'd and die Even so the beams of thy enlightning spirit Infus'd and shot into my dark desire
Inflame my thoughts and fill my soul with fire That I am ravisht with a new delight But if thou shroud thy face my glory fades And I remain a Nothing all compos'd of shades 5 Eternall God O thou that onely art The sacred Fountain of eternall light And blessed Loadstone of my better part O thou my hearts desire my souls delight Reflect upon my soul and touch my heart And then my heart shall prize no good above thee And then my soul shall know thee knowing love thee And then my trembling thoughts shall never start From thy commands or swerve the least degree Or once presume to move but as they move in thee S. AUGUST Med. Cap. 25. If Man can love man with so entire affection that the one can scarce brook the others absence If a bride can be joyned to 〈◊〉 bride-groom with so great an ardency of mind that for the extremitie of love she can enjoy no rest not suffering his absence without great anxiety with what affection with what 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the soul whom thou hast espoused by saith and compassion to love thee her true God and glorious bridegroom EPIG. 4. My soul thy love is dear 'T was thought a good And easie pen'worth of thy Saviours bloud But be not proud All matters rightly scann'd 'T was over-brought 'T was sold at second hand V. CANTICLES 5. 6. My Soul melted whilst my Beloved spake LOrd has the feeble voyce of flesh and bloud The pow'r to work thine ears into a floud Of melted mercy or the strength t' unlock The gates of Heav'n and to dissolve a rock Of marble clouds into a morning show'r Or hath the breath of whining dust the pow'r To stop or snatch a falling thunderbolt From thy fierce hand and make thy hand revolt From resolute confusion and in stead Of vyals poure full blessings on our head Or shall the wants of famisht ravens cry And move thy mercy to a quick supply Or shall the silent suits of drooping flow'rs Woo thee for drops and be refresh'd with show'rs Alas what marvel then great God what wonder If thy hell-rouzing voice that splits in sunder The brazen portals of eternall death What wonder if that life-restoring breath Which dragg'd me from th' infernall shades of night Should melt my ravisht soul with ore-delight O can my frozen gutters choose but run That feel the warmth of such a glorious Sun Me thinks his language like a flaming arrow Doth pierce my bones and melts their wounded marrow Thy flames O Cupid though the joyfull heart Feels neither tang of grief nor fears the smart Of jealous doubts but drunk with full desires Are torments weigh'd with these celestiall fires Pleasures that ravish in so high a measure That O I languish in excesse of pleasure What ravisht heart that feels these melting joyes Would not despise and loath the treach'rous toyes Of dunghill earth what soul would not be proud Of wry-mouth'd scorns the worst that flesh and bloud Had rancour to devise Who would not bear The worlds derision with a thankfull eare What palat would refuse full bowls of spight To gain a minutes tast of such delight Great spring of light in whom there is no shade But what my interposed sinnes have made Whose marrow-melting fires admit no screen But what my own rebellions put between Their precious flames and my obdurate eare Disperse these plague-distilling clouds and clear My mungy soul into a glorious day Transplant this screen remove this barre away Then then my fluent soul shall feel the fires Of thy sweet voyce and my dissolv'd desires Shall turn a sov'reigne balsame to make whole Those wounds my sinnes inflicted on thy soul S. AUGUST Soliloq cap. 34. What fire is this that so warmeth my heart What light is this that so enlightneth my soul O fire that alwayes burnest and never goest out kindle me O light which ever shinest and art never darkned illuminate me O that I had my heat from thee most holy fire How sweetly dost thou burn How secretly dost thou shine How desiderably dost thou inflame me BONAVENT Stim amoris cap. 8. It maketh God man and man God things temporall eternall mortall immortall it maketh an enemy a friend a servant a sonne 〈◊〉 things glorious cold hearts siery and hard things liquid EPIG. 5. My soul thy gold is true but full of drosse Thy Saviours breath resines thee with some losse His gentle fornace makes thee pure as true Thou must be melted ere th' art cast anew VI PSALME 73. 25. Whom have I in Heaven but thee and what desire I on earth in respect of thee 1 I Love and have some cause to love the earth She is my Makers creature therefore good She is my Mother for she gave me birth She is my tender Nurse she gives me food But what 's a Creature Lord compar'd with thee Or what 's my Mother or my Nurse to me 2 I love the Aire her dainty sweets refresh My drooping soul and to new sweets invite me Her shrill-mouth'd quire sustain me with their flesh And with their Polyphonian notes delight me But what 's the Aire or all the sweets that she Can blesse my soul withall compar'd to thee 3 I love the Sea She is my fellow-creature My carefull purveyer she provides me store She walls me round she makes my diet greater She wafts my treasure from a forrein shore But Lord of oceans when compar'd with thee What is the Ocean or her wealth to me 4 To Heav'ns high citie I direct my journey Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye Mine eye by contemplations great atturney Transcends the crystall pavement of the skie But what is Heav'n great God compar'd to thee Without thy presence Heav'n 's no Heav'n to me 5 Without thy presence Earth gives no refection Without thy presence Sea affords no treasure Without thy presence Air 's a rank 〈◊〉 Without thy presence Heav'n it self 's no pleasure If not possest if not enjoy'd in thee What 's Earth or Sea or Air or Heav'n to me 6 The highest Honours that the world can boast Are subjects farre too low for my desire The brightest beams of glory are at most But dying sparkles of thy living fire The proudest flames that earth can kindle be But nightly Glow-worms if compar'd to thee 7 Without thy presence wealth are bags of cares Wisdome but folly Joy disquiet sadnesse Friendship is treason and Delights are snares Pleasures but pain and Mirth but pleasing madnesse Without thee Lord things be not what they be Nor have they being when compar'd with thee 8 In having all things and not thee what have I Not having thee what have my labours got Let me enjoy but thee what farther crave I And having thee alone what have I not I wish nor Sea nor Land nor would I be Possest of Heav'n Heav'n unpossest of thee BONAVINT cap. 1. Soliloq Alas my God now I understand but blush to consesse that the beautie of thy Creatures hath