tempting that no power Was left in thee to stay another hower Or didst thou feed by chance and not observ'd What food it was but tooke as Fortune carv'd 'T is done Be it or Fortunes act or thine It fed the one whose want made Millions pine ELEG 5. ENvie now burst with joy and let thine eyes Strut forth with fatnesse let thy collops rise Pampred and plump Feed full for many yeares Vpon our losse Be drunken with our teares For he is dead whose soule did never cease To crosse and violate your malitious peace He 's dead but in his death hath overthrowne More vices than his happy life had done In life he taught to dye and he did give In death a great example how to live Though he be gone his fame is left behinde Now leave thy laughing Envie and be pin'd ELEG 6. FArewell those eyes whose gentle smiles forsooke No misery taught Charity how to looke Farewell those cheerefull eyes that did e'rewhile Teach succour'd misery how to blesse a smile Farewell those eyes whose mixt aspect of late Did reconcile humility and state Farewell those eyes that to their joyfull guest Proclaim'd their ordinary fare a feast Farewell those eyes the load-stars late whereby The graces â—ail'd secure from eye to eye Farewell deare eyes bright Lamps ô who can tell Your glorious welcome or our sad farewell ELEG 7. GOe glorious Saint I knew 't was not a shrine Of flesh could lodge so pure a soule as thine I saw it labour in a holy scorne Of living dust and ashes to be sworne A heavenly Quirifter It sigh'd and groan'd To be dissolv'd from mortall and enthron'd Among his fellow Angells there to sing Perpetuall Anthems to his heavenly King He was a stranger to his house of Clay Scarce own'd it but that necessary stay Miscall'd it his And onely zeale did make Him love the building for the builders sake ELEG 8. HAd vertue learning the Diviner Arts Wit judgement wisdome or what other parts That make perfection and returne the minde As great as Earth can suffer beene confin'd To earth had they the Patent to abide Secure from change our Ailmer ne're had dy'de Fond earth forbeare and let thy childish eyes Ne're weep for him thou ne're knew'st how to prize Shed not a teare blinde earth for it appeares Thou never lov'dst our Ailmer by thy teares Or if thy flouds must needs oreflow their brim Lament lament thy blindenesse and not him ELEG 9. I Wondred not to heare so brave an end Because I knew who made it could contend With death and conquer and in open chace Would spit defiance in his conquered face And did Dauntlesse he trod him underneath To shew the weaknesse of unarmed death Nay had report or niggard Fame denyde His name it had beene knowne 't was Ailmer dyde It was no wonder to heare rumor tell That he which dyde so oft once dyde so well Great Lord of life how hath thy dying breath Made man whoÌ„ death had conquerd coÌ„quer death ELEG 10. KNowledge the depth of whose unbounded maine Hath bin the wreck of many a curious braine And from her yet unreconciled schooles Hath fill'd us with so many learned fooles Hath tutor'd thee with rules that cannot erre And taught thee how to know thy selfe and her Furnisht thy nimble soule in height of measure With humane riches and divinest treasure From whence as from a sacred spring did flow Fresh Oracles to let the hearer know A way to glory and to let him see The way to glory is to studie thee ELEG 11. LOoke how the body of heavens greater light Inâ—iches each beholder with his bright And glorious rayes untill the envious West Too greedy to enjoy so faire a guest Calls him to bed where ravisht from our sight He leaves us to the solemne frownes of night Even so our Sun in his harmonious spheare Enlightned every eye rapt every eare Till in the earely sunset of his yeares He dyde and left us that survive in teares And like the Sun in spight of death and fate He seemed greatest in his lowest state ELEG 12. MOlest me not full sighes and flowing teares You stormes showres of nature stop your eares Fond flesh and bloud against the strong temptation Of fullen griefe and sense-bereaving passion Cease to lament Let not thy slow pac'd numbers Disturbe his rest that so so sweetly slumbers The child of virtue is asleepe not dead He dies alone whom death hath conquered Why should we shed a teare for him or why Lament we whom we rather should envie He lives he lives a life shall never tast A change so long as Crownes of glory last ELEG 13. NO no he is not dead The mouth of fame Honors shrill Herald would preserve his name And make it live in spight of death and dust Were there no other heaven no other trust He is not dead The sacred Nine deny The soule that merits fame should ever dye He lives and when the latest breath of fame Shall want her Trumpe to glorifie a name He shall survive and these selfe closed eyes That now lie slumbring in the dust shall rise And fill'd with endlesse glory shall enjoy The perfect vision of eternall joy ELEG 14. O But the dregs of flesh and bloud How close They grapple with my soule and interpose Her higher thoughts which yet but young of wing They cause to stoope and strike at every thing Passion presentâ— before their weakned eye Iudgement and better reason standing by I must lament Nature commands it so The more I strive with teares the more they flow These eyes have just nay double cause of mone They weepe the coÌ„mon losse they weep their own He sleepes Indeed then give me leave to weepe Teares fully answerable to his sleepe ELEG 15. PArdon my teares if they be too too free And if thou canst not weepe I 'le pardon thee Dull Stoick If thou laugh to heare his death I 'le weep that thou wert borne to spend that breath Thou dry-brain'd Portick whose Ahenian brest Transcending passion never was opprest With griefe O had your flinty Sect but lost So rare a prize as we lament and boast Your hearts had crost your Tenet and disburst As many drops as we have done or burst No marvell that your marble braines could crosse Her lawes that never gave you such a losse ELEG 16. QVicke-sould Pythagoras O thou that wert So many men and didst so oft revert From shades of death if we may trust to Fame With losse of nothing but thy buried name Hadst thou but liv'd in this our Ailmers time Thou wouldst have dyde once more to live in him Or had our Ailmer in those daies of thine But dyde and left so glorious so divine A soule as his how would thy hasty brâ—st Have gasp'd to entertaine so faire a guest Which if obtained had no doubt supplyde thee With that immortall state thy Sire denyde thee ELEG 17. RAre soule that now sits crowned in
Strangers Fate Should be neglective of his owne estate Where is this love become in later age Alas 't is gone in endlesse pilgrimage From hence and never to returne I doubt 'Till revolution wheele those times about Chill brests have starv'd her here and she is driven Away and with Astraea fled to heaven Poore Charity that naked Babe is gone Her honey's spent and all her store is done Her winglesse Bees can finde out ne're a bloome And crooked Aâ—â— doth usurpe her roome Nepenthe's dry and Love can get no drinke And curs'd Arâ—enâ—e flowes above the brinke Brave Mariners the world your names shal hallow Admiring that in you that none dare follow Your friendship 's rare and your conversion straÌ„ge From Paganisme to zeale A sudden change Those men doe now the God of heaven implore That bow'd to Puppets but an houre before Their zeale is fervent though but new begun Before their egge-shels were done off they runne And when bright Phoebus in a Summer tide New risâ—n from the bosome of his Bride Enveloped with misty fogges at length Breakes forth displaies the mist with Southerne strength Even so these Mariners of peerlesse mirrour Their faith b'ing veil'd within the mist of errour At length their zeale chac'd ignorance away They left their Puppets and began to pray ¶ Lord how unlimited are thy confines That still pursu'st man in his good designes Thy mercy 's like the dew of Hermon hill Or like the Oyntment dropping downward still From Aarons head to beard from beard to foote So doe thy mercies drench us round about Thy love is boundlesse Thou art apt and free To turne to Man when Man returnes to thee THE ARGVMENT They cast the Prophet over boord The storme alay'd They feare the Lord A mighty Fish him quick devoures Where he remained many houres Sect. 6. EVen as a member whose corrupted sore Infests and rankles eating more and more Threatning the bodies losse if not prevented The wise chirurgion all faire meanes attented Cuts off and with advised skil doth choose To lose a part then all the body lose Even so the feeble Sailors that addresse Their idle armes where heaven denyes successe Forbeare their thrivelesse labours and devise To roote that Evill from whence their harms arise Treason is in their thoughts and in their eares Danger revives the old and addes new feares Their hearts grow fierce and every soule applies T' abandon mercy from his tender eyes They cease t' attempt what heaven so long withstood And bent to kill their thoughts are all on blood They whisper oft each word is Deaths Alarme They hoyst him up Each lends a busie arme And with united powers they entombe His out-cast body in Thetis angry wombe Whereat grim Neptune wip't his fomy mouth Held his tridented Mace upon the South The windes were whist the billows danc't no more The storme allay'd the heavens left off to rore The waves obedient to their pilgrimage Gave ready passage and surceast their rage The skie grew cleare and now the welcome light Begins to put the gloomy clouds to flight Thus all on sudden was the Sea tranquill The Heav'ns were quiet and the Waves were still As when a friendly Creditor to get A long forborne and much-concerning debt Still plies his willing debter with entreats Importunes daily daily thumps and beates The batter'd Portals of his tyred eares Bedeafing him with what he knowes and heares The weary debter to avoid the sight He loathes shifts here and there and ev'ry night Seekes out Protection of another bed Yet ne'rethelesse pursu'd and followed His eares are still laid at with lowder volley Of harder Dialect He melancholy Sits downe and sighs and after long foreslowing T' avoid his presence payes him what is owing The thankfull Creditor is now appeas'd Takes leave and goes away content and pleas'd Even so these angry waves with restlesse rage Accosted Ionas in his pilgrimage And thundred Iudgement in his fearefull eare Presenting Hubbubs to his guilty feare The waves rose discontent the Surges beat And every moments death the billowes threat The weather-beaten Ship did every minuit Await destruction while hee was in it But when his long expected corps they threw Into the deepe a debt through trespasse due The Seagrew kinde and all her frownes abated Her face was smooth to all that navigated 'T was sinfull Ionah made her storme and rage 'T was sinfull Ionah did her storme asswage With that the Mariners astonisht were And fear'd Iehovah with a mighty feare Offring up Sacrifice with one accord And vowing solemne vowes unto the Lord. But he whose word can make the earth's foundatioÌ„ Tremble and with his Word can make cessation Whose wrath doth mouÌ„t the waves toss the Seas And make theÌ„ calme smooth wheÌ„ e're he please This God whose mercy runs on endlesse wheele And puls like Iacob Iustice by the heele Prepar'd a Fish prepar'd a mighty Whale Whose belly was both prison-house and baile For retchlesse Ionah As the two leaf'd doore Opens to welcome home the fruitfull store Wherewith the harvest quits the Plowmans hope Even so the great Leviathan set ope His beame-like Iawes prepar'd for such a boone And at a morsell swallow'd Ionah downe 'Till dewy-check't Aurora's purple dye Thrice dappell'd had the ruddy morning skie And thrice had spred the Curtaines of the morne To let in Titan when the day was borne Ionah was Tenant to this living Grave Embowel'd deepe in this stupendious Cave Meditat. 6. LO Death is now as alwaies it hath bin The just procured stipend of our sinne Sinne is a golden Causie and a Road Garnisht with joyes whose pathes are even broad But leads at length to death and endlesse griefe To torments and to paines without reliefe Iustice feares none but maketh all afraid And then fals hardest when t is most delaid But thou reply'st thy sinnes are daily great Yet thou sittst uncontrold upon thy seat Thy wheat doth flourish and thy barnes do thrive Thy sheepe encrease thy sonnes are all alive And thou art buxom and hast nothing scant Finding no want of any thing but want Whil'st others whom the â—quint-ey'd world counts holy Sit sadly drooping in a melancholy With brow dejected and downe-hanging head Or take of almes or poorely begge their bread But young man know there is a Day of doome The Feast is good untill the reck'ning come The time runnes fastest where is least regard The stone that 's long in falling falleth hard There is a dying day thou prosp'rous foole When all thy laughter shall be turn'd to Doole Thy roabes to tort'ring plagues fel tormenting Thy whoops of Ioy to howles of sad lamenting Thy tongue shall yell and yawle and never stop And wish a world to give for one poore drop To flatter thine intolerable paine The wealth of Pluto could not then obtaine A minutes freedome from that hellish rout Whose fire burnes and never goeth out Nor house nor land not measur'd heaps of wealth
first descend before the ball rebound It must be throwne with force against the ground The seed increases not in fruitfull eares Nor can she reare the goodly stalke she beares Vnlesse bestrow'd upon a mould of earth And made more glorious by a second birth So man before his wisedome can bring forth The brave exploits of truly noble worth Or hope the granting of his sinnes remission He must be humbl'd â—â—rst in sad contrition The plant through want of skill or by neglect If it be planted from the Sunnes reflect Or lacke the dew of seasonable showres Decayes and beareth neither fruit nor flowres So wretched Man if his repentance hath No quickning Sun-shine of a liuely Faith Or not bedew'd with showres of timely teares Or workes of mercy wherein Faith appeares His prayers and deeds and all his forced groanes Are like the howles of dogs and works of Drones The wise Chirurgeon first by letting blood Weakens his Patient ere he does him good Before the Soule can a true comfort finde The body must be prostrate and the minde Truly repentive and contrite within And loathe the fawning of a bosome sin But Lord Can Man deserve Or can his best Doe Iustice equall right which he transgrest When Dust and Ashes mortally offends Can Dust and Ashes make eternall mends Is Heaven unjust Must not the recompence Be full equivalent to the offence What mends by mortall Man can then be given To the offended Majesty of Heaven O Mercy Mercy on thee my Soule relyes On thee we build our Faith we bend our eyes Thou fill'st my empty strain thou fill'st my tongue Thou art the subject of my Swan-like song Like pinion'd pris'ners at the dying tree Our lingring hopes attend and wait on thee Arrain'd at Iustice barre prevent our doome To thee with joyfull hearts wee cheerly come Thou art our Clergy Thou that dearest Booke Wherein our fainting eyes desire to looke In thee we trust to read what will release us In bloody Characters that name of IESVS ¶ What shall we then returne the God of heaven Where nothing is Lord nothing can be given Our soules our bodies strength and all our pow'rs Alas were all too little were they ours Or shall wee burne untill our life expires An endlesse Sacrifice in Holy fires ¶ My Sacrifice shall bee my HEART intire My Christ the Altar and my Zeale the Fire THE ARGVMENT The Prophet discontented praye To God that he would end his dayes God blames his wrath so unreprest Reproves his unadvis'd request Sect 11. BVt this displeasing was in Ionah's eyes His heart grew hot his blood began to rise His eyes did sparkle and his teeth strucke fire His veines did boyle his heart was full ire At last brake forth into a strange request These words he pray'd and mumbl'd out the rest Was not O was not this my though O Lord Before I fled Nay was not this my word The very word my jealous language vented When this mis-hap might well have beene prevented Was there O was there not a just suspect My preaching would procure this effect For Lord I knew of old thy tender love I knew the pow'r thou gav'st my tongue would move Their Adamantine hearts I knew 't would thaw Their frozen spirits and breed relenting awe I knew great God upon their true repentance That thou determin'dst to reverse thy sentence For well I knew thou were a gracious God Of long forbearance slow to use the Rod I knew the power of thy Mercies bent The strength of all thy other workes outwent I knew the tender kindnesse and how loath Thou wert to punish and how slow to wrath Turning by Iudgements and thy plagues preventing Thy minde rever sing and of ev'll repenting Therefore O therefore upon this perswasion I fled to Tarshish there to make evasion To save thy credit Lord to save mine owne For when this blast of zeale is over-blowne And sackcloth left and they surcease to mourne When they like dogs shall to their vomit turne They 'll vilipend thy Sacred Word and scoffe it Saying was that a God or this a Prophet They 'll scorne thy judgements and thy threats despise And call thy Prophets Messengers of lyes Now therefore Lord bow downe attentive eare For ah my burthen's more than flâ—sh can beare Make speed O Lord and banish all delayes T' extinguish now the Taper of my dayes Let not the minutes of my time extend But let my wretched houres finde an end Let not my fainting spirits longer stay In this fraile mansion of distempered clay The threds but weake my life depends upon O cut that thred and let my life be done My brest stands faire strike then and strike againe For nought but dying can asswage my paine O may I rather dye than live in shame Better it is to leave and yeeld the game Than toyle for what at length must needs be lost O kill me for my heart is sore imbost This latter boone unto thy servant give For better 't is for me to dye than live So wretched Ionah But Iehovah thus What boot's it so to storme outragious Becomes it thus my servants heart to swell Can anger helpe thee Ionah dost thou well Medita 12. HOw poore a thing is maÌ„ How vain 's his mind How straÌ„ge how base wav'ring like the wind How uncouth are his wayes how full of danger How to himselfe is hee himselfe a stranger His heart 's corrupt and all his thoughts are vaine His actions sinfull and his words prophane His will 's deprav'd his senses are beguil'd His reason 's darke his members all defil'd His hasty feet are swift and prone to ill His guilty hands are ever bent to kill His tongue 's a spunge of venome or of worse Her practice is to sweare his skill to curse His eyes are fire-bals of lustfull fire And outward helps to inward foule desire His body is a well-erected station But full of folly and corrupted passion Fond love and raging lust and foolish feares Griefes overwhelmed with immoderate teares Excessive joy prodigious desire Vnholy anger red and hot as fire These daily clog the soule that 's fast in prison From whose encrease this lucklesse bâ—ood is risen Respectlesse pride and lustfull idlenesse Base ribbauld talke and loathsome drunkennesse Faithlesse Despaire and vaine Curiosity Both false yet double-tongu'd Hypocrisie Soft flattery and haughty-ey'd Ambition Heart-gnawing Hatred and squint-ey'd Suspition Selfe-eating Enâ—y envious Detraction Hopelesse distrust and too-too sad Dejection Revengefull Malice hellish Blasphemy Idolatry and light Inconstancy Daring Presumption wry-mouth'd Derisson Damned Apostasie Fond superstition ¶ What heedfull watch Ah what continuall ward How great respect and howerly regard Stands man in hand to have when such a brood Of furious hel-hounds seeke to suck his blood Day night and hower they rebell and wrastle And never cease till they subdue the Castle ¶ How slight a thing is man how fraile and brittle How seeming great is he How truly little
Charity be wanting nought a vailes me ¶ Lord in my Soule a spirit of Love create me And I will love my Brother if he hate me In nought but love let me envy my betters And then Forgive my debts as I my detters 8. ¶ I Finde a true resemblance in the growth Of Sin and Man A like in breeding both The Soul 's the Mother and the Devill Syer Who lusting long in mutuall desier Enjoy their Wils and joyne in Copulation The Seed that fils her wombe is foule Tentation The sinnes Conception is the Soules coâ—sent And then it quickens when it breeds content The birth of Sin is finisht in the action And Custome brings it to its full perfection ¶ O let my fruitlesse Soule be barren rather Then bring forth such a Child for such a Father Or if my Soule breed Sinne not being wary Let not her wombe bring forth or else miscarry She is thy Spouse O Lord doe thou advise her Keepe thou her chast Let not the Fiend entice her Try thou my heart Thy Trials bring Salvation But let me not be led into temptation 9. ¶ FOrtune that blinde supposed Goddesse is Still rated at if ought suceed amisse 'T is shee the vaine abuse of Providence That beares the blame wheÌ„ others make th' offence When this mans barne finds not her wonted store Fortun 's condâ—mn'd because she sent no more If this man dye or that man live too long Fortun 's accus'd and she hath done the wrong Ah foolish Dolls and like â—our Goddesse blinde You make the fault and call your Saint unkinde For when the cause of Ev'll begins in Man Th' effect ensues from whence the cause began Then know the reason of thy discontent Thy ev'll of Sinne makes the Ev'll of punishment ¶ Lord hold me up or spurre mee when I fall So shall my Ev'll bee just or not at all Defend me from the World the Flesh the Devill And so thou shalt deliver me from Evill 10. ¶ THe Priestly Skirts of A'rons holy coate I kisse and to my morning Muse devote Had never King in any age or Nation Such glorious Robes set forth in such a fashion With Gold and Gemmes and Silks of Princely Dye And Stones befitting more than Majesty The Persian Sophies and rich Shaeba's Queene Had n'er the like nor e'r the like had seene Vpon the Skirts in order as they fell First a Pomegranat was and then a Bell By each Pomegranat did a Bell appeare Many Pomegranats many Bels there were Pomegranats nourish Bels doe make a sound As blessings fall Thanksgiving must rebound ¶ If thou wilt cloth my heart with A'rons tyer My tongue shall praise as well as heart desier My tongue and pen shall dwell upon thy Story Great God for thine is Kingdome Power Glory 11. ¶ THe Ancient Sophists that were so precise and oftentimes perchance too curious nice Averre that Nature hath bestow'd on Man Three perfect Soules When this I truly scan Me thinks their Learning swath'd in Errour lyes They were not wise enough and yet too wise Too curious wise because they mention more Then one Not wise enough because not foure Nature not Grace is Mistris of their Schooles Grace counts them wisest that are veriest Fooles Three Soules in man Grace doth a fourth allow The Soule of Faith But this is Greeke to you 'T is Faith that makes man truly wise 'T is Faith Makes him possesse that thing he never hath ¶ This Glorious Soule of Faith bestow on me O Lord or else take thou the other three Faith makes men lesse then Children more then Men It makes the Soule cry Abba and Amen The End PENTELOGIA Morstua Mors Christi Fraus Mundi Gloria Coeli Et Dâ—lor Inferni sunt meditanda tibi Thy death the death of Christ the worlds teÌ„tation Heavens joy hels torment be thy meditation LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1632. Mors tua 1. ¶ ME thinkes I see the nimble-aged Sire Passe swiftly by with feet unapt to tire Vpon his head an Hower-glasse he weares And in his wrinkled hand a Sythe he beares Both Instruments to take the lives from Men Th' one shewes with what the other sheweth when Me thinkes I heare the dolefull Passing-bell Setting an onset on his louder knell This moody musick of impartiall Death Who dances after dances out of breath Me thinkes I see my dearest friends lament With sighs and teares and wofull dryriment My tender Wife and Children standing by Dewing the Death-bed whereupon I lie Me thinkes I heare a voyce in secret say Thy glasse is runne and thou must die to day Mors Christi 2. ¶ ANd am I here and my Redeemer gone Can He be dead and is not my life done Was he tormented in excesse of measure And doe I live yet and yet live in pleasure Alas could Sinners finde out ne're a one More fit than Thee for them to spit upon Did thy cheekes entertaine a Traylors lips Was thy deare body scourg'd and torne with whips So that the guiltlesse blood came trickling after And did thy fainting browes sweat blood and water Wert thou Lord hang'd upon the Cursed Tree O world of griefe And was all this for me ¶ Burst forth my teares into a world of sorrow And let my nights of griefe finde ne're a morrow Since thou art dead Lord grant thy servant roome Within his heart to build thy heart a Tombe Fraus Mundi 3. ¶ WHat is the World a great exchange of warâ— Wherein all sorts sexes cheapning art The Flesh the Devill sit and cry What lacke ye When most they fawn they most intend to rack ye The wares are cups of Ioy and beds of Pleasure Ther 's goodly choice down weight flowing meâ—sure A soul 's the price but they give time to pay Vpon the Death-bed on the dying day ¶ Hard is the bargaine and unjust the measure When as the price so much out-lasts the pleasure The joyes that are on earth are counterfaits If ought be true 't is this Th' are true deceits They flatter fawne and like the Crocodile Kill where they laugh and murther where they smile They daily dip within thy Dish and cry Who hath betraid thee Master Is it I Gloria Coeli 4. ¶ VVHen I behold and well advise upon The Wisemans speech There 's nought beneath the Sun But vanity my soule rebels within And lothes the dunghill prison she is in But when I looke to new Ierusalem Wherein 's reserv'd my Crown my Diadem O what a Heaven of blisse my Soule enjoyes On sudden rapt into that heaven of Ioyes Where ravisht in the depth of meditation She well discernes with eye of contemplation The glory ' of God in his Imperiall Seat Full strong in Might in Majesty compleat Where troops of Powers Vertues Cherubims Angels Archangels Saints and Seraphims Are chaunting prayses to their heavenly King Where Hallelujah they for ever sing Dolor Inferni 5. ¶ LEt Poets please to torture Tanialus Let griping Vultures
should stand As lyable to a severer hand Fond soule beware who e're thou art that spies Anothers fault that thou thine owne chastise Lest like a foolish man thou judge another In those selfe-crimes which in your brest you smotherâ— Who undertakes to dreine his brothers eye Of noisome Humours first must clarifie His owne lest when his brothers blemish is Remov'd he spie a fouler Blame in his It is beyond th' extent of Mans Commission To judge of Man The secret disposition Of Sacred Providence is lockt and seal'd From mans conceit and not to be reveal'd Vntill that Lambe breake ope the Seale and come With life and death to give the world her doome The ground-worke of our faith must not relie On bare Events Peace and Prosperity Are goodly favours but no proper Marke Wherewith God brands his Sheepe No outward barke Secures the body to be sound within The Rich man liv'd in Scarletâ— dyed in Sinne. Behold th' afflicted man affliction moves Compassion but no confusion proves A gloomy Day brings oft a glorious Even The Poore man dy'd with sores and lives in heaveÌ„ To good and bad both fortunes Heaven doth share That both an after-change may hope and feare I 'le hope the best Lord leave the rest to thee Lest while I judge another thou judge me It 's one mans worke to have a serious sight Of his owne sinnes and judge himselfe aright THE ARGVMENT Zophar blames Iob Iob equall makes His wisdome unto theirs He takes In hand to pleade with God and then Describes the fraile estate of men Sect. 10. THen Zophar from deepe silence did awake His words with louder language and bespake Shall Pratlers bee unanswe'rd or shall such Be counted just that speake for babbling much Shal thy words stop our mouths he that hath blamd And scoft at others shall he die unsham'd Our cares have heard thee when thou hast excus'd Thy selfe of evill and thy God accus'd But if thy God should pleade with thee at large thou 'dst reape the sorrows of a double charge Canâ—t thou by deepe inquiry understand The hidden Iustice of th' Almighties hand Heavens large dimensions cannot coÌ„prehend him What e're hee doe what 's he can reprehend him What refuge hast thou then but to present A heart inricht with the sad compliment Of a true convert on thy bended knee Before thy God t' attone thy God and thee Then doubt not but hee 'll reare thee from thy sorrow Disperse thy Clouds and like a shining Morrow Make cleare the Sun-beames of Prosperity And rest thy soule in sweet Security But he whose heart obdur'd in sinne persists His hopes shall vanish as the morning Mists But Iob even as a Ball against the ground Banded with violence did thus rebound You are the onely wisemen in your brests The hidden Magazen of true Wisdome rests Yet though astund with sorrowes doe I know A little and perchance as much as you I 'm scorned of my Friends whose prosprous state Surmises me that have expir'd the date Of earths faire Fortunes to be cast away From heavens regard think none belov'd but they I am despised like a Torch that 's spent Whiles that the wicked blazes in his Tent What have your wisdoms taught me more thaÌ„ that Which birds beasts could they but fpeak would chat Digests the Stomack e're the Pallat tastes O weigh my Words before you judge my case But you referre me to our Fathers dayes To be instructed in their wiser Layes True length of dayes brings Wisdome but I say I have a wiser teacheth me than they For I am taught and tutor'd by that Hand Whose unresisted power doth command The limits of the Earth whose VVisdome schooles And traines the simple makes the learned fooles His hand doth raise the poore deposes Kings On him both Order and the change of things Depend he searches and brings forth the light From out the shadowes and the depth of night All this mine owne Experience hath found true And in all this I know as much as you But you averre If I should plead with God That he would double his severer Rod. Your tongue belies his Iustice you apply Amisse your Med'cine to my Malady In silence you would seeme more wise lesse weake You having spoke now lend me leave to speake Will you doe wrong to doe Gods Iustice right Are you his Counsell Need you helpe to fight His quarrels Or expect you his applause Thus brib'd with selfe-conceit to plead his cause Iudgement 's your Fee when as you take in hand Heavens cause to plead it and not Heav'n coÌ„mand If that the foulnesse of your censures could Not fright you yet me thinks his greatness should Whose Iustice you make Patron of your lies Your slender Maximes and false Forgeries Are substanc't like thedust that flyes besides me Peace then and I will speake what e're betides me My soule is on the rack my tears have drown'd me Yet will I trust my God though God confound me He He 's my Towre of strength No hypocrite Stands unconfounded in his glorious sight Ballance my words I know my case would quit Me from your censures should I argue it Who takes the Plaintifes pleading Come for I Must plead my right or else perforce must die With thee great Lord of Heaven I dare dispute If thou wilt grant me this my double Suit First that thou slake these sorrows that surrouÌ„d me Then that thy burning Face doe not confound me Which granted then take thou thy choyce let me Propound the question or else answer Thee Why dost thou thus pursue me like thy Foe For what great sinne dost thou afflict me so Break'st thou a withred Leafe thy Iustice doth Summe up the reckonings of my sinfull youth Thou keep'st me pris'ner bound in fetters fast And like a thred-bare garment doe I wast Man borne of Woman hath but a short while To live his dayes are fleet and full of toyle Hee 's like a Flower shooting forth and dying His life is as a Shadow swiftly flying Ah! b'ing so poore a thing what needst thou minde him The number of his dayes thou hast confin'd him Then adde not plagues unto his Griefe O give Him peace that hath so small a time to live Tree's that are fell'd may sprout again man never His dayes are numbred and he dyes for ever He 's like a Mist exhaled by the Sunne His dayes once done they are for ever done O that thy Hand would hide me close and cover Me in the Grave till all thy Wrath were over My desperate sorrows hope for no reliefe Yet will I waite my Change My day of griefe Will be exchang'd for an Eternall day Of joy But now thou dost not spare to lay Full heapes of vengeance on my broken soule And writâ—st my sinnes upon an ample scrowle As â—ountaines being shaken fall and Rocks Though firm are worn rent with many knocks So strongest men are batterd with thy strength Loose ground returning to the Ground
Gods Iudgement stand Since we were both created by one Hand If e're my power wrong'd the Poore mans cause Or to the Widow lengthned out the Lawes If e're alone my lips did taste my bread Or shut my churlish doores the poore unfed Or bent my hand to doe the Orphane wrong Or saw him naked unapparell'd long In heapes of Gold if e're I tooke delight Or gave Heavens worship to the heavenly Light Or e're was flattred by my secret Will or joyed in my Adversaries Ill Let God accurse mee from his glorious Seat And make my plagues if possible more great Oh! That some equall hearer now were by To judge my righteous cause Full sure am I I shall be quitted by th' Almighties hand What therefore if censorious tongues withstand The judgement of my sober Conscience Compose they Ballads on me yet from thence My simple Innocence shall gaine renowne And on my head I 'le weare them as my Crowne To the Almighties care will I reveale My secret wayes to him alone appeale If to conclude the Earth could finde a tongue Tâ—impeach my guiltlesse hands of doing wrong If hidden Wages earn'd with sweat doe lye Rak't in her furrowes let her wombe deny To blesse my Harvest let her better Seeds Be turn'd to Thistles and the rest to Weeds Medita 15. THe man whose soule is undistain'd with Ill Pure from the check of a distempred Will Stands onely free from the distracts of Care And flies a pitch above the reach of Feare His bosome dares the threatning Bow-mans arme His wisedome sees his Courage feares no harme His brest lyes open to the reâ—king Sword The darts of swarthy Maurus can affoord Lesse dread than danger to his well prepar'd And setled minde which standing on her guard Bids Mischiefe doe the worst she can or will For he that does no ill deserves no ill Would any strive with Samson for renowne Whose brawny arme can strike most pillers downe Or try a fall with Angels and prevaile Or with a Hymne unhinge the strongest Iayle Would any from a prâ—â—ner prove a Prince Or with slow speech best Orators convince Preserve he then unstained in his brest A milkeâ—white Conscience let his soule be blest With simple Innocence This seven fold shield No dart shall pierce no sword shall make it yeeld The siâ—ewy Bow and deadly headed Launce Shall breake in shivers and the splinters glaunce Aside returning backe from whence they came And wound their hearts with an eternall shame The just and constant minde that perseveres Vnblemisht with false pleasures never feares The bended threatnings of a Tyrants brow Death neither can disturbe nor change his Vow Well guarded with himselfe he walkes along When most alone he stands a thousand strong Lives he in weale and full Prosperity His wisedome tells him that he lives to dye Is he afflicted Sharpe afflictions give Him hopes of Chang and that hee dyes to live Is he revil'd and scorn'd He sits and smiles Knowing him happy whom the world reviles If Rich he gives the Poore and if he live In poore estate he findes rich friends to give He lives and Angel in a mortall forme And having past the brunt of many a storme At last ariveth at the Haven of Rest Where that just Iudge that rambles in his brest Ioyning with Angels with an Angels voyce Chaunts forth sweet Requieâ—s of Eternall joyes THE ARGVMENT Elihu Iob reproves reproves His Friends alike he pleades the case With Iob in Gods behalfe and moves Him to recant and call for Grace Sect. 16. THus Iob his ill defended Cause adjournes And silence lends free liberty of turnes To his unjust Accusers whose bad cause Hath left them grounded in too large a pause Whereat Elihu a young stander-by Whose modest eares upon their long reply Did wait his angry silence did awake And craving pardon for his Youth bespake Young Standers-by doe oftentimes see more Than elder Gamesters Y' are to blame all foure T'ones cause is bad but with good proofs befriended The others just and good but ill defended Though reason makes the man Heaven makes him wise Wisdome in greatest Clerks not alway lyes Then let your silence give me leave to spend My judgement whilst your heedfull eares attend I have not heard alone but still expected To heare what more your spleenes might have objected Against your wofull Friend but I have found Your reasons built upon a sandy ground Flourish no Flags of Conquest Vnderstand That he 's afflicted by th' Almighties hand He hath not fail'd to crosse your accusations Yet I though not with your â—oule exprobations Will crosse him too I 'me full and I must speake Or like unvented vessels I must breake And with my tongue my heart will be reliev'd That swells with what my patience hath conceiv'd Be none offended for my lips shall tread That ground without respect as Truth shall lead God hates a flattering language then how can I Vnliable to danger flatter any Now Iob to thee I speake O let my Errant Be welcome to thine â—ares for truth 's my warrant They are no slender trifles that I treat But things digested with the sacred heat Of an inspired knowledge 'T is no rash Discharge of wrath nor wits conceited flash I 'le speake and heare thee speake as free for I Will take no vantage of thy Misery Thy tongue did challenge to maintaine thy casâ— With God if he would veile his glorious face Be I the man though clad with clay and dust And mortall like thy selfe that takes the trust To represent his Person Thou dost terme Thy selfe most just and boldly dost affirme That Heaven afflicts thy soul without a reason Ah Iob these very words alone are treason Against th' Almighties will Thou oughtest rather Submit thy passion to him as thy Father Than plead with him as with thy Peere Is he Bound to reveale his secret Will to thee God speaketh oft to man not understood Sometimes in dreames at other times thinkes good To thunder Iudgement in his drowzy eare Sometimes with hard afflictions scourge doth teare His wounded soule which may at length give easâ— Like sharper Physicke to his foule Disease But if like pleasing Iulips he afford The meâ—ke Expounders of his sacred Word With sweet perswasions to recure his griefe How can his sorroâ—es wish more faire Reliefe Ah then his body shall wax young and bright Heavens face that scorcht before shall now delight His tongue with Triumph shall confesse to men I was a Leper but am cleare agen Thus thus that Spring of Mercy oftentimes Doth speak to man that man may speak his crimes Consider Iob my words with judgement weigh Which done if thou hast ought then boldly say If otherwise shame not to hold thy peace And let thy wisedome with my words encrease And you you Wisemen that are silent here Vouchsafe to lend my lips your ripened earâ— Let 's call a parly and the cause decide For Iob pleads guiltlesse and would faine be
the grounds and how unstable How many Deities yet how unable Implore these gods that list to howle and barke They bow to Dagon Dagon to the Arke But hee to whom the seale of mercy 's given Adores Iehovah the Great God of Heaven Vpon the mention of whose sacred Name Meeke Lambs grow fierce the fierce Lions tame Bright Sol shall stop heaven shal turn his course Mountains shall dance and Neptune slake his force The Seas shall part the fire want his flame Vpon the mention of Iâ—hovah's Name A Name that makes the roofe of Heaven to shake The frame of Earth to quiver Hell to quake A Name to which all Angels blow their Trumps A Name puts frolicke man into his dumps Though ne're so blythe A Name of high renown It mounts the meeke and beats the loftie downe A Name divides the marrow in the bone A Name which out of hard and flintiâ— stone Extracteth hearts of flesh and makes relent Those hearts that never knew what mercy ment O Lord how great 's thy Name in all the Land How mighty are the wonders of thy hand How is thy glory plac't above the heaven To tender mouthes of Sucklings thou hast given Coercive pow'r and boldnesse to reproove When elder men doe what them not behoove O Lord how great 's the power of thine hand O God! how great 's thy Name in all the Land THE ARGVMENT The Prophet doth his fault discover Perswadeâ— the men to cast him over They row and toyle but doe no good They pray to be excus'd from blood Sect. 5. SO Ionah fram'd this speech to their demand Not that I seeke to traverse the command Of my deare Lord and out of minde perverse T' avoid the Ninivites doe I amerâ—e My selfe Nor that I ever heard you threat Vnlesse I went to Niniveh the great And doe the message sent her from the Lord That you would kill or cast me over-boord Doe I doe thiâ— 'T is my deserved fine You all are guiltlesse and the fault is mine T is I ' tâ—â— I alone 't is I am he The tempest comes from heaven the cause from me You shall not lose a haire â—or this my sâ—â— Nor perish for the fault that mine hath bin Lo I the man am here Lâ— I am he The root of all End your revenâ—e on me I fled th' Eternall God O let me then Because I fled my God so flie from men Redeeme your lives with mine Ah why should I Not guiltlesse live and you not guilty die I am the man for whom these billowes dance My death shall purchase your deliverance Feare not to cease your feares but throw me in Alas my soule is burthen'd with my sin And God is just and bent to his Decree Which certaine is and cannot alter'd be I am proclaim'd a Traitor to the King Of heaven an earth The windes with speedy wing Acquaint the Seas The Seas mount up on high And cannot rest untill the Traytor die Oh cast me in and let my life be ended Let Death make Iustice mends which Life offended Oh let the swellinâ— waters me enbalme So shall the Waves be still and Sea be calme So said th' amazed Mariners grew sad New Love abstracted what old Feare did adde Love called Pity Feare call'd vengeance in Love view'd the Sinner Feare beheld the Sin Love cry'd out Hold for better sav'd than spil'd But Feare cry'd Kill O better kill than kill'd Thus plung'd with Passions they distracted were Betwixt the hopes and doubts of Love and Feare Some cry'd out Save if this foule deed we doe Vengeance that haunted him will haunt us too Others cry'd No May rather death befall To one that hath deserv'd to dye then all Save him sayes one Oh save the man that thus His dearest blood hath profer'd to save us No sayes another vengeance must have blood And vengeance strikes most hard when most withstood In fine say all Then let the Prophet die And we shall live For Prophets cannot lye Loth to be guilty of their owne yet loth To haste poore Ionahs death with hope that both Th' approching evils might be at once prevented With prayers and paines reutter'd reattented They try'd new wayes despairing of the old Love quickens courage makes the spirits bold They strove in vaine by toile to win the shore And wrought more hard than erâ—e they did before But now both hands and hearts begin to quaile For bodies wanting rest must faint and faile The Seas are angry and the waves arise Appeas'd with nothing but a Sacrifice Gods vengeance stormeth like the raging Seas Which nought but Ionah dying can appease Fond is that labour which attempts to free What Heaven hath bound by a divine decree Ionah must die Heaven hath decreed it so Ionah must die or else they all die too Ionah must die that from his Lord did flie The Lott determines Ionah then must die His guilty word confirmes the sacred Lott Ionah must die then if they perish not If Iustice then appoint since he must die Said they us Actors of â—is Tragedy We beg not Lord a warrant to offend O pardon blood-shed that we must intend Though not our hands yet shall our hearts be cleare Then let not stainlesse consciences beare The pond'rous burden of a Murders guilt Or pay the price of blood that must be spilt For 〈◊〉 deare Lord it is thine owne decree And we sad ministers of Iustice be Meditat. 5. BVt stay a while this thing would first be known Can Ionah give himselfe and not his owne That part to God and to his Countrey this Pertaines so that a slender third is his Why then should Ionah doe a double wrong To deale himselfe away that did belong The least unto himselfe or how could hee Teach this Thou shalt not kill if Ionah be His life 's owne Butcher What was this a deed That with the Calling he profest agreed The purblinde age whose workes almost divine Did meerely with the oyle of Nature shine That knew no written Law nor Grace nor God To whip their conscience with a steely rod How much did they abhorre so foule a fact When led by Natures glimpse they made an act Selfe-murderers should be deny'd to have The charitable honour of a Grave Can such doe so when Ionah does amisse What Ionas Isr'els Teacher and doe this The Law of Charity doth all forbid In this thing to doe that which Ionah did Moreo're in charity 't is thy behest Of dying men to thinke and speake the best The mighty Samson did as much as this And who dare say that Samson did amisse If heavens high Spirit whisper'd in his eare Expresse command to doe 't No wavering feare Drew backe the righteous Abram's armed hand From Isaacks death secur'd by heavens command ¶ Sure is the knot that true Religion tyes And Love that 's rightly grounded never dyes It seemes a paradoxe beyond beliefe That men in trouble should prolong reliefe That Pagans to withstand a
Can render to a dying man his health Our life on earth is like a thred of flax That all may touch and being roucht it craks ¶ As when an Archer shooteth for his sport Sometimes his shaft is gone sometimes 't is short Somtimes o' th left haÌ„d wide sometimes o' th right At last through often tryall hits the White So death sometimes with her uncertaine Rover Hits our Superiours and so shoots over Sometimes for change shee strikes the meaner sort Strikes our Inferiours and then comes short Sometimes upon the left hand wide shee goes And so still wounding some shee strikes our foes And sometimes wide upon the right hand bends There with Imperiall shafts she strikes our friends At length through often triall hits the White And so strikes us into Eternall night ¶ Death is a Kalender compos'd by Fate Concerning all men never out of Date Her dayes Dominicall are writ in blood She shewes more bad daies than she sheweth good She tels when dayes monthes termes expire Meas'ring the lives of mortals by her squire ¶ Death is a Pursivant with Eagles wings That knocks at poore mens door gates of Kings Worldling beware betime death sculks behind thee And as she leaves thee so will Iudgement find thee THE ARGVMENT Within the bowels of the Fish Ionah laments in great anguish God heard his pray'r at whose command The Fish disgorg'd him on the Land Sect 7. THen Ionah turn'd his face to heav'n and pray'd Within the bowels of the Whale and said I cry'd out of my balefull misery Vnto my God and he hath heard my cry From out the paunch of hell I made a noyse And thou hast answer'd me and heard my voyce Into the Deeps and bottome thou hast throwne me Thy Surges and thy Waves have past upon me Then Lord aid I from thy refulgent sight I am expell'd I am forsaken quite Nay'thelesse while these my wretched eyes remaine Vnto thy Temple will I looke againe The boystrous Waters compast me about My body threats to let her pris'ner out The boundlesse depth enclosed me almost dead The weeds are wrapt about my fainting head I liv'd on earth rejected at thine hand And a perpetuall pris'ner in the Land Yet thou wilt cause my life t' ascend at length From out this pit O Lord my God my Strength When as my soule was over-whelm'd and faint I had recourse to thee did thee acquaint With the condition of my woefull case My cry came to thee in thine holy Place Who so to Vanities themselves betake Renounce thy mercies and thy love for sake To thee I 'le sacrifice in endlesse dayes With voyce of thankes and ever-sounding praise I 'le pay my vowes for all the world records With one consent Salvation is the Lords But he whose word 's a deed whose breath 's a law Whose just command implies a dreadfull awe Whose Word prepar'd a Whale upon the Deepe To tend and wait for Ionah's fall and keepe His out-cast body safe and soule secure This very God whose mercy must endure When heaven earth when sea all things faile Disclos'd his purpose and bespake the Whale To redeliver Ionah to his hand Whereat the Whale disgorg'd him on the land Medita 7. I Well record a holy Father sayes He teaches to deny that faintly prayes The suit surceases when desire failes But whoso prayes with fervency prevailes For Prayr's the key that opes th' eternall gate And findes admittance whether earl ' or late It forces audience it unlockes the eare Of heavens great God though deafe it makes him heare Vpon a time Babel the worlds faire Queene Made drunk with choller and enrag'd with spleen Through fell disdaine derraigned war 'gainst them That tender homage to Ierusalem A maiden-fight it was yet they were strong As men of Warre The Battaile lasted long Much blood was shed an spilt on either side That all the ground with purple gore was dyde In fine a Souldier of Ierusalem Châ—â—â—ssa hight the Almner of the Realme Chill'd with an ague and unapt to fight Into Iustitia's Castle too her flight Whereat great Babets Queene commanded all To lay their siege against the Castle wall But poore Tymissa not with warr acquainted Fearing Charissa's death fell downe and fainted Dauntlesse Prudentia rear'd her from the ground Where she lay pale and senselesse in a swound She rub'd her temples and at length awaking She gave her water of Fidissa's making And said Cheare up deare sister though our foe Hath tane us Captives thus besieg'd with woe We have a King puissant and of might Will see us take no wrong and doe us right If we possesse him with our sad complaint Cheare up wee 'l send to him and him acquaint Tymissa new awak'd from swound replies Our Castle is begirt with enemies And troops of armed men besiege our walls Then suer Death or worse than death befalls To her who ere she be that stirs a foote Or rashly dares attempt to venture out Alas what hope have wee to finde reliefe And want the meanes that may divulge our griefe Within that place a jolly Matron dwell'd Whose lookes were fixt and sad her left hand held A paire of equall ballances her right A two-edg'd sword her eyes were quicke bright Not apt to squint but nimble to discerne Her visage lovely was yet bold and sterne â—â—r name Iustitia to her they make Their moane who well advis'd them thus bespake Faire Maidens more beloved then the light â—rue the suffrance of your wofull plight â—ut pitty's fond alone recures no griefe â—ut fruitlesse fals unlesse it yeeld reliefe Cheare up I have a Messenger in store Whose speed is much but faithfull trust is more Whose nimble wings shall cleave the flitting skies And scorne the terrour of your enemies â—ratio hight well knowne unto your King Your message she shall doe and tydings bring Provided that Fidissa travaile with her And so on Christs name let them goe together With that Fidissa having ta'ne her errant And good Oratio with Iustitia's Warrant In silence of the midnight tooke her flight Arriving at the Court that very night But they were both as flames of fier hot For they did fly as swift as Cannon shot But they left sudden cold should do them harme Together clung and kept each other warme But now the kingly gates were sparr'd and lockt They call'd but none made answer theÌ„ they knockt Together jâ—yning both their force in one They knockt againe Yet answer there was none But they that never learn'd to take deniall With importunity made further triall The King heard well although he list not speake Till they with strokes the gate did wel-nie breake In fine the brazen gates flew open wide Oratio moov'd her suit The King replide â—ratio was a faire and welcome guest So heard her suit so granted her request Fraile man observe In thee the practice lies Let sacred Meditation moralize Let Pray'r bee servent and thy Faith intire And
their jollities Or hadst thou lost thy Vineyard full of trees Hadst thou beene ravisht of thine onely Sheepe That in thy tender bosome us'd to sleepe How would thine â—asty spirit then bin stirr'd If thou art angry Ionah for a Gourd To which thus Ionah vents his idle breath Lord I doe well to vexe unto the death I blush not to acknowledge and professe Deserved rage I 'm angry I â—onfesse ' I would make a spirit that is thorow frozen To blaze like flaming Pitch and fry like Rozen Why dost thou aske that thing that thou canst â—ell Thou know'st I 'm angry ' and it beseemes me well So said the Lord to Ionah thus respake Doest thou bemoane and such compassion take Vpon a Gourd whose seed thou didst not sow Nor mov'd thy busie hands to make it grow Whose beauty small and value was but slight Which sprang as also perisht in a night Hadst thou O dust and ashes such a care Such in-bred pitty 'a trifling plant to spare Hadst thou O hard and incompassionate To wish the razing of so brave a State Hadst thou I say compassion to bewaile The extirpation of a Gourd so fraile And shall not I that am the Lord of Lords Whose Fountain's never dry but still affords Sweet streames of mercy with a fresh supply To those that thirst for grace What shall not I That am the God of mercy and have sworne To pardon sinners whensoe're they turne I say shall I disclaime my wonted pitty And bring to ruine such a goodly City Whose hearts so truely penitent implore me Who day and night powre forth their soules before me Shall I destroy the mighty Ninevie Whose people are like sands about the Sea 'Mong which are sixe score thousand Babes at least That bang upon their tender Mothers brest Whose pretty smiles could never yet descry The deare affection of their mothers eye Shall I subvert and bring to desolation A City nay more aptly term'd a Nation Whose walls boast lesse their beauty than their might Whose hearts are sorrowfull and soules contrite Whose Infants are in number so amounting And beasts and cottell endlesse without counting What Ionah shall a Gourd so move thy pity And shall not I spare such a goodly Citie Meditatio ultima MY heart is full my vent is too too straight My tongue 's too trusty to my poore conceit My mind's in labour and finds no redresse My heart conceives my lips cannot expresse MY organs suffer through a maine defect Alas I want a proper Dialect To blazon forth the tythe of what I muse The more I meditate the more accrewes But Io my faultring tongue must say no more Vnlesse she step where she hath trod before What shaâ—â— I then be silent No I le speake Till tongue be tyred and my lungs be weake Of dearest mercy in as sweet a straine As it shall please my â—use to lend a vaine And when my voice shall stop within her source And speech shall faulter in this high Discourse My tyred tongue unsham'd shall thus extend Onely to name Deare Mercy and so end ¶ Oh high Imperiall King heavens Architect Is Man a thing befittiâ—g thy â—espect Lord thou art Wisedome and thy wayes are holy But Man 's polluted full of filch and folly Yet is he Lord the tabricke of thy hand And in his Soule he beares thy glorious Brand Howe're defaced with the rust of Sin Which hath abus'd thy stamp and eaten in 'T is not the frailty ' of Mans corrupted nature Makes thee asham'd t' acknowledge Man thy Creature But like a tender Father here on earth Whose Childe by nature or abortive birth Doth want that sweet and favourable relish Wherewith her creatures Nature doth imbelish Respects him nerethelesse even so thy Grace Great God extends to Man though sin deface The glorious pourtraiture that man doth beare Whereby he loath'd and ugly doth appeare Yet thou within whose tender bowels are Deepe gulfes of Mercy sweet beyond compare Regard'st and â—ov'st with rev'rence â—e it said Nay seem'st to dote on Maâ— when he hath straid Lord thou hast broâ—ght him to his Fold againe When he was lost thou didst not then disdaine To thinke upon a vagabond and give Thy dearest Sonne to dye that he might live How poore a mite art thou content withall That â—an may â—cape his downeâ—approching fall Though base we are yet thou dost not abhorre us But as our Story speaks art pleading for us To save us harmelesse from our Foe-mans jawes Art thou turn'd Orator to plead our cause ¶ How are thy Mercies full of admiration How soveraigne how sweet's their application Fatning the Soule with sweetnesse and repayring The rotten ruines of a Soule despairing ¶ Lo here Malfido is a Feast prepar'd Fall to with courage and let nought be spar'd Tast freely of it Here 's no Misers Feast Eate what thou canst and pocket up the rest These precious Viands are Restoritie Eate then and if the sweetnesse make thee drie Drinke large Carouses out of Mercies Cup The best lies in the bottome Drinke all up These Cates are sweet Ambrosia to thy Soule And that which fills the brim of Mercies bowle Is dainty Nectar Eate and drinke thy fill Spare not the one nor yet the other spill Provide in time Thy Banquet is begun Lay up in store against the Feast be done For loe the time of banquetting is short And once being done the world cannot restor't It is a feast of Mercy and of Grace It is a Feast for all or high or base A feast for him that begs upon the way As well for him that does the Scepter sway A feast for him that howerly bemoanes His dearest sins with sighs and teares and groaneâ— A feast for him whose gentle heart reformes A feast for MEN and so a FEAST FOR WORMES ¶ Deare liefest Lord that feast'st the World with gracâ— Extend thy bounteous hand thy glorious face Bid ioyfull welcome to thy hungry guest That we may praise the Master of the Feast And in thy mercy grant this boone to mee That I may dye to sinne and live to thee S. AMBROSE Misericordia est plenitudo omnium virtutum FINIS THE GENERALL VSE OF this HISTORY ¶ WHen as the ancient world did all imbark Within the compass of good Noahs Arke Forth to the new-washt earth a Dove was sent Who in her mouth return'd an Olive plant Which in a silent language this related How that the waters were at length abated Those swelling waters is the wrath of God And like the Dove are Prophets sent abroad The Olive-leafe's a joyfull Type of peace A faithfull signe Gods vengeance doth decrease They salve the wounded heart and make it whole They bring glad tydings to the drooping soule Proclaiming grace to them that thirst for Grace Mercy to those that Mercy will embrace ¶ Malfido thou in whose distrustfull brest Despaire hath brought in sticks to build her nest Where she may safely lodge her lucklesse brood To feed upon thy
heart and sucke thy blood Beware betimes lest custome and permission Prescribe a title and so claime possession ¶ Despairing man whose burthen makes thee stoop Vnder the terror of thy sinnes and droop Through dull despaire whose too too sullen griefe Makes heav'n unable to apply reliefe Whose eares are dull'd with noyse of whips and chaines And yels of damned soules through tort'red pains Come here and rouze thy selfe unâ—eele those eyes Which sad Despaire clos'd up Arise Arise And goe to Nineveh the worlds great Palace Earths mighty wonder and behold the Ballace And burthen of her bulke is nought but sin Which wilfull she commits and wallowes in Behold her Images her fornications Her crying sinnes her vile abominations Behold the guiltlesse blood that she did spill Like Spring-tides in the streets and reeking still Behold her scorching lusts and taint desier Like sulph'rous Aetna blaze and blaze up higher She rapes and rends and theeves there is none Can justly call the thing he hath his owne That sacred Name of God that Name of wonder In stead of worshipping she teares in sunder She 's not enthrall'd to this Sin or another But like a Leper's all infected over Not onely sinfull but in sinnes subjection Shee 's not infected but a meere infection No sooner had the Prophet Heav'ns great Spy Begun an onset to his lowder Cry But she repented sigh'd and wept and tore Her curious hayre and garments that she wore She sate in ashes and with Sack-cloth clad her All drencht in brine that griefe cannot be sadder She calls a Fast proclames a prohibition To man and beast sad tokens of contrition No sooner pray'd but heard No sooner groan'd But pittied No sooner griev'd but moan'd Timely Repentance speedy grace procur'd The sore that 's salvd in time is eas'ly cur'd No sooner had her trickling teares ore-flowne Her blubber'd cheeks but heav'n was apt to mone Her pensive heart wip'd her suffused eyes And gently strok'd her cheekes and bid her rise No faults were seene as if no fault had bin Deare Mercy made a Quittance for her sin ¶ Malfido rouze thy leaden spirit bestirre thee Hold up thy drouzy head here 's comfort for thee What if thy zeale be frozen hard What then Thy Saviours blood will thaw that frost agen Thy pray'rs that should be servent hot as fier Proceed but coldly from a dull desier What then Grieve inly But do not dismay Who heares thy pray'rs will give thee strength to pray Though left a while thou art not quite giv'n ore Where Sinne abounds there Grace abounâ—eth more This this is all the good that I can doe thee To ease thy griefe I here commend unto thee A little booke but a great Mystery A great delight A little History A little branch slipt from a saving tree But bearing fruit as great as great mought be A small abridgement of thy Lords great love A message sent from heaven by a Dove It is a heavenly Lecture that relates To Princes Pastors People all Estates Their sev'rall duties ¶ Peruse it well and binde it to thy brest The rests the Cause of thy defect of rest But read it often or else read it not Once read is not observ'd and soone forgot Nor is 't enough to read but understand Or else thy tongue for want of wit 's prophan'd Nor is 't enough to purchase knowledge by it Salve heales no sore unlesse the party ' apply it Apply it then which if thy flesh restraines Strive what thou canst pray for what remaines The particular Application ¶ THen thou that art opprest with sad Despaire Here shalt thou see the strong effect of pray'r Then pray with faith servent without ceasing Like Iacob wrestle till thou get a blessing ¶ Here shalt thou see the type of Christ thy Saviour Then let thy suits be through his name and favour ¶ Here shalt thou finde repentance and true griefe Of sinners like thy selfe and their beliefe Then suit thy griefe to theirs and let thy soule Cry mightily untill her wounds be whole ¶ Here shalt thou see the meeknesse of thy God Who on Repentance turnes and burnes the Rod Repents of what he purpos'd and is sorry Here may ye heare him stoutly pleading for ye Then thus shall be thy meed if thou repent In stead of plagues and direfull punishment Thou shalt find mercy love and Heav'ns applause And God of Heav'n himselfe will plead thy cause ¶ Here hast thou theÌ„ compil'd within this treasure First the Almighties high and just displeasure Against foule sinne or such as sinfull be Or Prince or poore or high or low degree ¶ Here is descri'd the beaten Road to Faith ¶ Here maist thou see the force that Preaching hath ¶ Here is describ'd in briefe but full expression The nature of a Convert and his passion His sober Dyet which is thin and spare His clothing which is Sack-cloth and his Prayre Not faintly sent to heaven nor spatingly But piercing â—ervent and a mighty cry ¶ Here maist thou see how Pray'r true repeÌ„tance Do strive with God prevaile and turn his sentence From strokes to stroking from plagues infernall To boundlesse Mercies and to life Eternall ¶ Till Zephyr lend my Barke a second Gale I slip mine Anchor and I strike my saile FINIS O dulcis Salvator Mundi ultima verba quae tu dixisti in Cruce sint ultima mea verba in Luce quando amplius effari non possum exaudi tu cordis mei desiderium A HYMNE to GOD. WHo gives me then an Adamantine quill A marble tablet And a Davids skill To blazon forth the praise of my deare Lord In deepe-grav'n Characters upon record To last for times etcâ—nall processe suer So long as Sunne and Moone and Starres endure Had I as many mouthes as Sands there are Had I a nimble tongue for every Starre And every word I speake a Character And every minutes time ten Ages were To chaunt forth all thy prayse it no'te availe For tongues words and time and all would faile Much lesse can I poore Weakling tune my tongue To take a taske befits an Angels song Sing what thou canst when thou canst sing no more Weepe then as fast that thou canst sing no more Beblurre thy booke with teares and go thy wayes For every blurre will prove a booke of prayse Thine eye that viewes the moving Spheares above Let it give praise to him that makes them move Thou riches hast Thy hands that hold have them Let them give praise to him that freely gave them Thine armes defend thee then for recompence Let them praise him that gave thee such defence Thy tongue was given to praise thy Lord the Giver Then let thy tongue praise highest God for ever Faith comes by hearing thy Faith will save thee TheÌ„ let thine cars prais him that hearing gave thee Thy bea rt is beg'd by him whose hands did make it My Sonne Give me thy Heart Lord freeâ—y take
it Eyes â—ands and armes tongues eares and hearts of men Sing praise and let the people say Amen ¶ Tune you your Instruments and let them vary Praise him upon them in his Sanctuary Praise him within the highest Firmament Which shewes his Power and his Government Praise him for all his mighty Acts are knowne And suit thy praises to his high Renowne Praise him with Trump victorious shrill sharpe With Psaltry lowd and many-stringed Harpe With sounding Timbrell and the warbling Flute With Musicks full Interpreter the Lute Praise him upon the Maiden Virginalls Vpon the Clerick Organs and Cymballs Vpon the sweet Majestick Vyalls touch Double your joyes and let your prayse be such Let all in whom is life and breath give praise To heav'ns eternall God in endlesse dayes Let every Soule to whom a voyce is given Sing Holy Holy Holy Lord of Heaven For loe a Lambe is found that undertooke To break the seven-fold-Seale ope the BOOK◠¶ O let my life adde number to my dayes To shew thy glory and to sing thy praise Let every minute in thy praise be spent Let every head be bare and knee be bent To thee deare Lambe Who ere thy praises hide Clos'd be his Lippes and tongue for ever ty'de Hallelujah Gloria DEO in excelsis ELEVEN PIOVS Meditations 1. ¶ WIthin the holy Legend I discover Three speciall Attributes of God his Power His Iustice and his Mercy All uncreated Eternall all and all unseparated From Gods pure Essence and from thence proceeding All very God All perfect All exceeding And from that selfe-same text three names I gather Of great lehova Lord and God and Father The first denotes him mounted on his Throne In Power Majesty Dominion The second shewes him on his kingly Bench Rewarding Evill with equall punishments The third describes him on his Mercy-seat Full great in Grace and in his Mercy great ¶ All three I worship and before all three My heart shall humbly prostrate with my knee But in my private choice I fancy rather Then call him Lord or God to call him Father 2. ¶ IN hell no Life in heaven no Death there is In earth both Life and Death both Bale and Blis In Heaven 's all Life no end nor new supplying In hell 's all Death and yet there is no dying Earth like a partiall Ambidexter doth Prepare for Death or Life prepares for both Who lives to sinne in Hell his portion 's given Who dyes to sinne shall after live in Heaven ¶ Though Earth my Nurse be Heaven bee thou my Father Ten thousand deaths let me endure rather Within my Nurses armes then One to Thee Earths honour with thy frownes is death to mee I live on Earth as on a Stage of sorrow Lord if thou pleasest end the Play to morrow I live on Earth as in a Dreame of pleasure Awake me when thou wilt I wait thy leisure I live on Earth but as of life bereaven My life 's with thee for Lord thou art in Heaven 3. NOthing that e'r was made was made for nothing Beasts for thy food their skins were for thy clothing Flowers for thy smell and â—earbs for Cure good Trees for thy shade Their Fruit for pleasing Food The showers fall upon the fruitfull ground Whose kindly Dew makes tender Grasse abound The Grasse springs forth for beasts to feed upon And Beasts are food for Man but Man alone Is made to serve his Lord in all his wayes And be the Trumpet of his Makers praise ¶ Let Heav'n be then to me obdure as brasse The Earth as iron unapt for graine or grasse Then let my Flocks consume and never steed mee Let pinching Famine want wherewith to feed mee When I forget to honour thee my Lord Thy glorious Attributes thy Workes thy Word O let the Trump of thine eternall Fame Teach us to answer Hallow'd be thy Name 4. ¶ GOd built the World and all that therein is He framed yet how poore a part is his Quarter the Earth and see how small a rome Is stiled with the name of Christeâ— dome The rest through blinded ignorance rebels O're-runne with Pagans Turkes and Infidels Nor yet is all this little quarter his For though all know him halfe know him amisse Professing Chrâ—â—â— for lucre as they lâ—st And serve the triple Crowne of Anâ—â—â—hrist Yet is this little handfull much made lesser There 's many Lâ—â—ertines for one Prâ—fessour Nor doe Professours all professe aright ' Mong ' whom there often lurks an Hypocrite ¶ O where and what 's thy Kingdome blessed God Where is thy Scepter where 's thine iron Rod Reduce thy reck'nings to their totall summe O let thy Power and thy kingdome come 5. ¶ MAN in himselfe 's a little World Alone His Soul 's the Court or high Imperiall throne Wherein as Empresse sits the Vnderstanâ—ing Gently directing yet with awe Commanding Her Handmaid's will Affections Maids of Honour All following close and duely waiting on her But Sin that alwayes envi'd mans Condition Within this Kingdome raised up Division Withdrawne the Will and brib'd the false Affection That This no order hath nor That Election The Will proves Traitor to the Vnderstanding Reason hath lost her power and left commanding She 's quite depos'd and put to foule disgrace And Tyrant Passion now usurps her place ¶ Vouchsafe Lord in this little World of mine To raigne that I may raigne with Thee in thine And since my Will is quite of good bereaven Thy will be done in earth as 't is in Heaven 6 ¶ WHo live to sin are all but theeves to hearÌ„ And Earth They steale froÌ„ God take ungiveÌ„ Good men they rob such as live upright And being bastards share the freemans Right They 're all as owners in the owners stead And like to Dogs devoure the childrens bread They have and lacke and want that they possesse Vnhappy most in their most happinesse They are not goods but riches that they wast And not beâ—ng goods to ev'ls they turne at last ¶ Lord what I have let me enjoy in thee And thee in it or else take it from mee My store or want make thou or fade or flourish So shall my comforts neither change nor perish That little I enjoy Lord make it mine In making mee that am a Sinner thine 'T is thou or none that shall supply my need Great God Give us this day our daily bread 7. ¶ THe quick conceited Schoole-men doe approve A difference 'twixt Charity and Love Love is a vertue whereby we explaine Our selves to God and God to us againe But Charitie 's imparted to our Brother Whereby we trafficke one man with another The first extends to God The last belongs To Man in giving right and bearing wrongs In number they are twaine In vertue one For one not truely being t' other's none ¶ In loving God if I neglect my Neighbour My love hath lost his proofe and I my labour My Zeale my Faith my Hope that never failes me If
gnaw Prometheus And let poore Ixion turne his endlesse wheele Let Nemesis torment with whips of steele They far come short t' expresse the paines of those That rage in Hell enwrapt in endlesse woes Where time no end and plaguâ—s finde no exemption Where cryes admit no helpe nor place redemption Where fier lacks no flame the flame no beat To make their torments sharpe and plagues compleaâ— Where wretched Soules to tortures bound shall beâ— Serving a world of yeares and not be Freâ— Where nothing's heard but yells and sudden cryes Where â—ier never flakes nor Worme e're dyes But where this Hell is plac'd my Muse stop there Lord shew me what it is but never where Mors tua 1. ¶ CAn he be faire that withers at a blast Or he be strong that ayery Breath can cast Can he be wise that knowes not how to live Or hee be rich that nothing hath to give Can he be young that 's feeble weake and wan So faire strong wise so rich so young is mâ—n So faire is Man that Death a parting Blast Blasts his faire flow'r and makes him Earth at last So strong is Man that with a gasping Breath Hee totters and bequeathes his strength to Deatâ— So wise is Man that if with Death he strive His wisedome cannot teach him how to live So rich is Man that all his Debts b'ing paid His wealth 's the winding-sheet wherein he 's laid So yong is Man that broke with care and sorrow He 's old enough to day to Dye to morrow Why brag'st thou theÌ„ thou worm of five-foot long Th' art neither faire nor strong nor wise nor rich nor 〈◊〉 Mors Christi 2. I Thurst and who shall quench this eager Thurst I grieve and with my griefe my heart will burst I grieve because I thurst without reliefe I thurst because my Soule is burnt with griefe I thurst and dry'd with griefe my heart will dye I grieve and thurst the more for Sorrow's dry The more I grieve the more my thurst appeares Would God I had not griev'd out all my teares I thurst and yet my griefes have made a Floud But teares are salt I grieve and thurst for blood I grieve for blood must send reliefe I thurst for blood for blood for blood must ease my griefe I thurst for sacred blood of a deare Lambe I grieve to thinke from whence that deare blood came 'T was shed for me O let me drinke my fill Although my griefe remaine entier still O soveraigne pow'r of that Vermilian Spring Whose vertue neither heart coÌ„ceives nor tongue can sing Fraus Mundi 3. I Love the World as Clients love the Lawes To manage the uprightnesse of my Cause The World loves me as Shepheards doe their flockes To rob and spoile them of their fleecy lockes I love the World and use it as mine Inne To bait and rest my tyred sarkeise in The World loves me For what To make her 〈◊〉 For filthy sinne she sels me timely shame She 's like the Basiliske by whose sharpe eyes The living object first discover'd dyes Forth from her eyes empoysoned beames do durâ—â— Dyes like a Basiliske discerned first We live at jarres as froward Gamesters doe Still guarding nor regarding others foe I love the World to serve my turne and leave her 'T is no deceit to coâ—zen a Deceiver She 'll not misse me I lesse the world shall misse To lose a world of griefe t' enjoy a world of Blâ—sse Gloria Coeli 4. EArth stands immov'd and fixt her situation Admits no locall change no alteration Heaven alway moves renewing still his place And ever sees us with another Face Earth standeth fixt yet there I live opprest Heaven alway mooves yet there is all my rest Enlarge thy selfe my Soule with meditation Mount there and there bespeake thy habitatioâ— Where joies are full pure not mixt with mourniâ—â— All endlesse and from which is no returning No theft no cruell murther harbours there No hoary-headed Care no sudden Feare No pinching want no griping-fast oppression Nor Death the stipend of our first transgression But dearest Friendship Love and lasting Plâ—â—sure Still there abides without or stint or measure Fulnesse of Riches comfâ—â—â—t sempeternall Excesse without a surfetting And Life Eternall Dolor Inferni 5. THe Trump shall blow the dead awak'd shal rise And to the Clouds shall turn their wondring eies The heav'ns shal ope the Bridegroom forth shal come To judge the World and give the World her doome Ioy to the Iust to others endlesse smart To those the Voyce bids Come to these Depart Depart from Life yet dying live for ever For ever dying be and yet Dye never Depart like Dogs with Devils take your lot Depart like Devils for I know you not Like Dogs like Devils goe Goe howle and barke Depart in darknesse for your deeds were darke Let râ—aring be your Musicke and your Food Be flesh of Vipers and your drinke their blood Let Fiends afflict you with Reproach and Shame Depart depart into Eternall Flame If Hell the Guerdon then of Sinners be Lord give me Hell on earth Lord give mee heav'n with thee vv vv Iam deâ—ine Tibia versus FINIS Hadassa Horat. Ode 6. â—onamur tenues grandia nec pudor â—mbellisque Lyrae Musapotens vetat By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1632. A PREFACE TO THE READER A Sober veine best suits Theologie If therefore thou expect'st such Elegancy as takes the times affect some subject as will beare it Had I laboured with over-abundaÌ„ce of fictions or flourishes perhaps they had exposed mee censurable and disprized this sacred subject Therefore I rest more sparing in that kinde Two things I would treate of First the matter secondly the manner of this History As for the matter so farre as I have dealt it is Canonicall and indited by the holy Spirit of God not lyable to errour and needs no blanching In it Theologie sits as Queene attended by her handmaid Philosophy both concurring to make the understanding Reader a good Divine and a wise Moralist As for the Divinitie it discovers the Almighty in his two great Attributes in his Mercy delivering his Church in his Iustice confounding her enemies As for the Morality it offers to us the whole practick part of Philosophy dealt 〈◊〉 into Ethicks Politicks and Oeconomickâ— 1. The Ethical part the object wherof is thâ— manners of a private man ranges throâ—â—â— the whole booke and empties it selfe 〈◊〉 the Catalogue of Morall vertues either thâ—â— that governe the body as Fortitude Châ—â— 9. 2. and Temperance Chap. 1. 8. or thoâ—â— which direct the soule either in outwaâ—â— things as Liberalitie Chap 1. 3. Magnifâ—cence Chap. 1. 6. Magnanimity Chap. 2. â— and Modesty Chap. 6. 12. or in conversatioâ— as Iustice Chap. 7. 9. Mansuetude Chap 5 c. 2. The Politicall part the object whereof publike Societie instructs first in the behaviour of a Prince to his Subject in punishâ—â— his vice Chap 7. 10. in rewarding of vertuâ—
Now when as Time had fitted ev'ry thing By course these Virgins came before the King Such was the custome of the Persian soyle Sixe months the Virgins bath'd in Myrâ—h Oyle Sixe months perfum'd in change of odours sweet That perfect lust and great excesse may meet What costly Robes rare Iewels rich attire Or curious Fare these Virgins did desire 'T was given and freely granted when they bring Their bodies to be prostrate to the King Each Virgin keepes her turne and all the night They lewdly lavish in the Kings delight And soone as â—orning shall restore the day They in their bosomes beare blacke night away And in their guilty breasts as are their sinnes Close prisoners in the house of Concubines Remaine untill the satiate King shall please To lend their pamper'd bodyes a râ—lease Now when the turne of Ester was at hand To satisfie the wanton Kings command Shee â—ought not as the rest with brave attire To lend a needlesse spurre t' unchast Desire Nor yet endeavours with a whorish Grace T'adulterate the beautie of her face Nothing she sought to make her glory braver But simply tooke what gentle Hege gave her Her sober â—â—sage daily wan her honour Each wandring eye inflam'd that look'd upon her Meditat. 5. WHen God had with his Al-producing Blast Blown up the bubble of the World plac't In order that which he had made in measure As well for necessary use as pleasure Then out of earthy mould he fram'd a creature Farre more Divine and of more glorious feature Than earst he made indu'd with understanding With strength victorious with awe commanding With Reason Wit repleate with Majesty With heavenly knowledge and Capacity True embleme of his Maker Him he made The sov'raigne Lord of all Him all obay'd Yeelding their lives as tribute to their King Both Fish and Bird and Beast and every thing His body 's rear'd upright and in his eye Stand radient beames of awfull sov'raignty All Creatures else poâ—e downward to the ground Man looks to heaven and all his thoughts rebound Vpon the Earth where tydes of pleasures mecro He treads and daily tramples with his feete Which reade sweet Lectures to his wandring eyes And teach his lustfull heart to moralize Naked he liv'd nak'd to the world he came For he had then nor fault to hide nor shame His state was levell and he had free will To stand or fall unforc't to good or ill Man had such state he was created in Within his pow'r a power not to sinne But Man was tempted yeelded sinn'd and fell Abus'd his free will lost it then befell A worse succeeding state who was created Complete is now become poore blinde and naked He 's drawne with head-strong bias unto ill Bereft of active pow'r to will or nill A blessed Saint's become a balefull Devill His free-will's onely stinted now to evill Pleasure 's his Lord and in his Ladies eyes His Christall Temple of devotion lyes Pleasures the white whereat he takes his levell Which too much wronged with the name of evill With best of blessings takes her lofty seat Greatest of goods and seeming best of great What 's good like Iron rusts for want of use And what is bad is worsed with abuse Pleasure whose apt and right ordained end Is but to sweeten labour and attend The frailty ' of man is now preferr'd so hie To be his Lord and beare the sov'raignty Ruling his slavish thoughts ignoble actions And gaines the conquest of his best affections Sparing no cost to bolster up delight But force vaine pleasures to unwonted height ¶ Who addes excesse unto a lustfull heart Commits a costly sin with greater Art THE ARGVMENT Ester's belov'd wedded crown'd A Treason Mordecai betrai'd The Trailors are pursu'd and â—ound And for that treason well appaid Sect. 6. NOw now the time is come faire Ester must Expose her beauty to the Letchers lust Now now must Ester stake her honour downe And hazzard Chastity to gaine a Crowne Gone gone she is attended to the Court And spends the evening in the Princes sport As when a Lady walking Flora's Bowre Picks here a Pincke and there a Gilly-flowre Now plucks a Vi'let from her purple bed And then a Primerose the yeares maiden-head There nips the Bryar here the Lovers Pauncy Shifting her dainty pleasures with her Fancy This on her arme and that she liâ—ts to weare Vpon the borders of her curious haire At length a Rose-bud passing all the rest She plucks and bosomes in her Lilly brest So when Assuerus tickled with delight Perceiv'd the beauties of those virgins bright He lik't them all but when with strict revye He viewed 〈◊〉 face his wounded eye Sparkl'd whilst Cupid with his youthfull Dart Transfixt the Center of his feeble heart Ester is now his joy and in her eyes The sweetest flower of his Garland lyes Who now but Ester Ester crownes his blisse And hee 's become her prisoner that was his Ester obtaines the prize her high desert Like Di'mond's richly mounted in his heart Iô now Iô Hymen sings for shee That crownes his joy must likewise crowned bee The Crowne is set on Princely Esters head Ester sits Queene in scornefull Voshties stead To consecrate this Day to more delights In due solemnizing the nuptiall rites In Esters name Assuerus made a Feast Invited all his Princes and releast The hard taxation that his heavy hand Laid on the subjects of his groning Land No rights were wanting to augment his joyes Great gifts confirm'd the bounty of his choyce Yet had not Esters lavish tongue descri'd Her Iewish kin or where she was aly'd For still the words of Mordecai did rest Within the Cabbin of her Royall breast Who was as pliant being now a Queene To sage advice as ere before sh 'ad beene It came to passe as Mardochaeus sate Within the Portall of the Princes gate He over-heard two servants of the King Closely combin'd in hollow whispering Like whistling Notus that foretels a raine To breathe out treason 'gainst their Soveraigne Which soone as loyall Mardochaeus heard Forthwith to Esters presence he repair'd Disclos'd to her and to her care commended The Traitors and the treason they intended Whereat the Queene impatient of delay Betraid the Traitors that would her betray And to the King unbosom'd all her heart And who her Newes-man was and his desert Now all on hurly-burly was the Court All tongues were fill'd with wonder and report The watch was set pursuit was made about To guard the King and finde the Traitors out Who found and guilty found by speedy tryall Where witnesse speaks what boots a bare deniall Were both hang'd up upon the shamefull tree To beare such fruit let trees ne're barren be And what successe this happy Day afforded Was in the Persian Chronicles recorded Meditat. 6. THe hollow Concave of a humane brest Is Gods Exchequer and therein the best And summe of all his chiefest wealth consists Which he shuts up and opens when
on his fainting head He strowed Dust and from his showring eyes Ran floods of sorrow and with bitter cryes His griefe saluted heaven his groanes did borrow No Art to draw the true pourtraict of sorrow Nor yet within his troubled brest alone Too small a stage for griefe to trample on Did Tyrant sorrow act her lively Sceane But did inlarge such griefe admits no meane The lawlesse limits of her Theater i th' hearts of all the Iewish Nation where With no dissembled Action she exprest The lively Passion of a pensive brest Forthwith he posteth to the Palace gate T' acquaint Queene Ester with his sad estate But found no entrance for the Persian Court Gave welcome to delights and youthly sport To jolly mirth and such delightfull things Soft rayment best befits the Courts of Kings There lyes no welcome for a whining face A mourning habit suits no Princely Place Which when the Maids and Eunuchs of the Queen Vnable of themselves to helpe had seene Their Royall Mistresse straight they did acquaint With the dumb-shew of her sad Cousins plaint Whereat till now a stranger to the cause Perplext and forced by the tender Lawes Of deare affection her gentle heart Did sympathize with his conceived smart She sent him change of rayment to put on To vaile his griefe But he received none Then sore dismai'd impatient to forbeare The knowledge of the thing she fear'd to heare She sent her servant to him to importune What sudden Chance or what disast'rous fortune Had caus'd this strange and ill-apparell'd griefe That she if in her lyes may send reliefe To whom his sorrowes made this sad Relation And this the tenor of his Declaration Hamans that cursed Hamans haughty pride Because my 〈◊〉 deservedly denyde To make 〈◊〉 Idoll of his greatnesse hath Incenst the fury of his jealous wrath And profer'd lavish bribes to buy the blood Of me and all the faithfull Iewish brood In here the copy granted by the King Sul'd in his name confirmed with his Ring 〈◊〉 of the which into his hands 〈◊〉 Haman hath ingrost our lives our lands 〈◊〉 tell the Queene it resteth in her powers To helpe the case is â—ers as well as Ours 〈◊〉 tell my cousin Queene it is her charge To use the meanes whereby she may inlarge Hâ—â— aged kinsmans life and all her Nation Preferring to the King her supplication Meditat. 9. WHo hopes t' attain the sweet Elysian Layes To reap the harvest of his wel-spent daies Must passe the joylesse streames of Acaron The scorching waves of burning Phlegeton And sable billowes of the Stygian Lake Thus sweet with sowre each mortall must partake What joyfull Harvester did ere obtaine The sweet fruition of his hopefull gaine Vntill his hardy labours first had past The Summers heat and stormy Winters blast A sable night returnes a shining morrow And dayes of joy ensue sad nights of sorrow The way to blisse lyes not on beds of Downe And he that had no Crosse deserves no Crowne There 's but one Heav'n one place of perfect ease In man it lies to take it where he please Above or here below And few men doe Injoy the one and tast the other too Sweating and constant labour wins the Goale Of Rest Afflictions clarifie the soule And like hard Masters give more hard directionâ— Tut'ring the nonage of uncurb'd affections Wisedome the Antidote of sad despayre Makes sharpe Afflictions seeme not as they are Through patient sufferance and doth apprehend Not as they seeming are but as they end To beare Affliction with a bended brow Or stubborne heart is but to disallow The speedy meanes to health salve heales no sore If mis-apply'd but makes the griefe the more Who sends Affliction sends an end and He Best knows what 's best for him what 's best for me 'T is not for me to carve me where I like Him pleases when he list to stroke or strike I le neither wish nor yet avoid Tentation But still expect it and make preparation If he thinke best my Faith shall not be tryde Lord keep me spotless from presumptuous pride If otherwise with tryall give me care By thankfull patience to prevent Despaire Fit me to beare what e're thou shalt assigne I kisse the Rod because the Rod is thine How-ere let me not boast nor yet repine With tryall or without Lord make me thinâ— THE ARGVMENT Her ayd implor'd the Queene refuses To helpe them and her selfe excuses But urg'd by Mordecai consents To die or crosse their foes intents Sect. 10. NOw when the servant had returrn'd the words Of wretched Mordecai like pointed swords They neere impierc't Queene Esters tender heart That well could pity but no helpe impart â—allac'd with griefe and with the burthen foyld Like Ordnance over-charg'd she thus recoyl'd Gâ—â— Hatach tell my wretched kinsman thus The case concernes not you alone but us 〈◊〉 the subject of proud Hamans hate As well as you our life is pointed at As well as yours or as the meanest Iew Nâ—â— can I helpe my selfe nor them nor you You know the Custome of the Persian State No King may breake no subject violate How may I then presume to make accesse â—â—fore th' offended King or rudely presse Vâ—call'd into his presence How can I Expect my suit and have deserâ—'d to dye May my desiers hope to find successe When to â—ffect them I the Law transgresse Thâ—se thirty dayes uncall'd for have I bin 〈◊〉 my Lord How dare I now goe in Gâ—â— Hatach aâ—d returne this heavy newes 〈…〉 the truth of my vnforc'd excuse Whereof when Mordecai was full possest His troubled Soule he boldly thus exprest Goe tell the fearfull Queene too great 's her feare Too small her zeale her life she rates too deare How poore's th' adventure to ingage thy blood To save thy peoples life and Churches good To what advantage canst thou more expose Thy life than this Th' ast but a life to lose Thinke not thy Greatnesse can excuse our death Or save thy life thy life is but a breath As well as ours Great Queene thou hop'st in raine In saving of a life a life to gaine Who knowes if God on purpose did intend Thy high preferment for this happy end If at this needfull time thou spare to speake Our speedy helpe shall like the morning breake From heaven together with thy woes and he That succours us shall heape his plagues on thee Which when Queen Ester had right well perus'd And on each wounding word had sadly mus'd Startled with zeale not daring to deny She rouz'd her faith and sent this meeke reply Since heaven it is endowes each enterprize With good successe and onely in us lies To plant and water let us first obtaine Heavens high assistance lest the worke be vaine Let all the Iewes in Susa summon'd â—e And keepe a solemne three dayes Fast and we With all our servants and our maiden traine Shall fast as long and from our thoughts abstaine Then to the King
uncall'd will I repaire Howe'r my boldnesse shall his Lawes contraire And brauely welcome Death before mine eye And scorne her power If I dye I dye Meditat. 10. AS in the winged Common-wealth of Bees Whose carefull Summer-providence foresees Th' approching fruitlesse Winter which denies The crowne of labour some with laden thighs Take charge to beare their waxy burthens home Others receive the welcome load and some Dispose the waxe others the plot contrive Some build the curious Comb some guard the Hive Like armed Centinels others distreine The purer honey from the waxe some traine And discipline the young while others drive The sluggish Drones from their deserved Hive Thus in this Common-wealth untaught by Art Each winged Burger acts his busie part So man whose first creation did intend And chiefly pointed at no other end Then as a faithfull Steward to receive The Fine and quit-rent of the lives we live Must suit his deare indeavour to his might Each one must lift to make the burthen light Proving the power that his gifts afford To raise the best advantage for his Lord Whose substitute he is and for whose sake We live and breath each his account must make Or more or lesse and he whose power lacks The meanes to gather honey must bring waxe Five Talents double five two render foure Wher 's little little 's crav'd where much there 's more Kings by their Royall priviledge may do What unbefits a mind to search into But by the force of their prerogatives They cannot free the custome of their lives The silly Widow from whose wrinkled browes Faint drops distill through labour that she owes Her needy life must make her Audite too As well as Kings and mighty Monarks doe The world 's a Stage each mortall Acts thereon As well the King that glitters on the throne As needy beggers Heav'n Spectator is And markes who acteth well and who amisse ¶ What part befits me best I cannot tell It matters not how meane so acted well THE ARGVMENT Vnto the King Queene Ester goes He unexpected favour showes Demands her suit she doth request The King and Haman to a Feast Sect. 11. WHen as Queen Esters solemne 3. daies Fast Had feasted heaven with a sweet repast Her lowly bended body she unbow'd And like faire Titan breaking from a cloud She rose and with her Royall Robe she clad Her livelesse limmes and with a face as sad As griefe could paint wanting no Art to borrow A needlesse helpe to counterfeit a sorrow Softly she did direct her feeble pace Vnto the inner Court where for a space She boldly stood before the Royall Throne Like one that would but durst not make her mone Which when her princely husband did behold His heart relented Fortune helpes the bold And to expresse a welcome unexpected Forth to the Queene his Scepter he directed Whom now imboldned to approch secur'd In gracious termes he gently thus conjur'd What is 't Queene Ester would What sad request Hangs on her lips dwells in her doubtfull brest Say say my lifes preserver what 's the thing That lyes in the performance of a King Shall be deny'd Faire Queenâ— what e're is mint Vnto the moity of my Kingdome 's thine So Ester thus If in thy Princely eyes Thy loyall Servant hath obtain'd the prize Of undeserved favor let the King And Haman grace my this dayes-banquetting To crowne the dainties of his handmaids Feast Humbly devoted to so great a Guest The motion pleas'd and fairly well succeeded To willing minds no twice intreaty needed They came but in Queene Esters troubled face Robd of the sweetnesse of her wonted grace The King read discontent her face divin'd The greatnesse of some further suit behind Say say thou bountâ—ous harvest of my joyes Said then the King what dumpish griefe annoyes Thy troubled soule Speake Lady what 's the thing Thy heart desires By th' onour of a King My Kingdomes halfe requested I 'le divide To faire Queene Ester to my fairest Bride Lâ— then the tenour of my deare request Repli'd the Queene unto a second Feast Thy humble Suitor doth presume to bid The King and Haman as before she did Now therefore if it please my gracious Lord To daigâ—e his Royall presence and afford The peerlesse treasure of hiâ— Princeâ—y Grace To dry the sorrowes of his Handmaids face Then to my Kingly and thrice-welcome Guest His servant shall unbosome her Request Medita 11. HE that invites his Maker to a Feast Advising well the greatnesse of his Guest Must purge his dining chamber from infections And sweepe the Cobwebs of his lewd affections And then provide such Cates as most delight His Palate and best please his Appetite And such are holy workes and pious deeds These are the dainties whereon heaven feeds Faith plaies the Cook seasons directs and guides So man findes meate so God the Cooke provides His drinke are teares sprung from a midnight cry Heaven sips out Nectar from a sinners eye The dining chamber is the soule opprest God keepes his revells in a Sinners brest The musicke that attends the Feast are grones Deep-founding sighes and loud lamenting moneâ— Heav'n heares no sweeter musick than complaints The Fasts of sinners are the Feasts of Saints To which heav'n dains to stoop heav'ns hie King Descends whilst all the quire of Angels sing And with such sense-bereaving Sonets fill The hearts of wretched men that my rude quill Dazeld with too much light it selfe addressing To blaze them forth obscures theÌ„ in th' expressing Thrice happy man and thrice-thrice happy Feast Grac'd with the presence of so great a Guest To him are freely giv'n the privy keyes Of heav'n and earth to open when he please And locke when e're he liâ—t In him it lyes To ope the showring flood-gates of the skies Or shut them at his pleasure in his hand The Host of heaven is put if he command The Sunne not daring to withstand obeyes Out-runnes his equall howres flies back or stayes To him there 's nought uneasie to atchieve Hee le rouze the graves and make the dead alive ¶ Lord I 'me unfit t' invite thee to my home My Caâ—es are all too coorse too meane my Roome Yet come and welcome by thy pow'r Divine Thy Grace may turne my Water into Wine THE ARGVMENT Good Mordecai's unreverence Great Hamans haughty pride offends H'acquaints his wife with the offence The counsell of his wife and friends Sect. 12. THat day went Haman forth for his swolne brest Was fill'd with joyes and heart was full possest Of all the height Ambition could require To satisfie her prodigall Desire But when he passed through the Palace Gate His eye-sore aged Mardocheus sate With head unbar'd and stubborne knee unbenâ— Vnapt to fawne with slavish blandishment Which when great Haman saw his boyling brest So great disdaine unable to digest Ran o're his blood grew hot and new desires Incenst and kindled his avenging fires Surcharg'd with griefe and sick with male-content
have still conspir'd to blesse That faithfull seed and with a faire successe Have crown'd their just designes If Mordecai Descend from thence thy hopes shall soone decay And melt like waxe before the mid-day Sun So said her broken speech not fully done Haman was hasted to Queene Esters Feast To mirth and joy an indisposed Guest Medita 13. THere 's nothing under heaven more glorifies The name of King or in a subjects eyes Winnes more observance or true loyalty Than sacred Iustice shared equally No greater glory can belong to Might Than to defend the feeble in their right To helpe the helplesse and their wrongs redresse To curbe the haughty-hearted and suppresse The proud requiting ev'ry speciall deed With punishment or honourable meed Herein Kings aptly may deserve the name Of gods enshrined in an earthly frame Nor can they any way approach more nye The full perfection of a Deity Than by true Iustice imitating heaven In nothing more than in the poizing eaven Their righteous ballance Iustice is not blinde As Poets feigne but with a sight refin'd Her Lyncian eyes are clear'd and shine as bright As doe their errours that denie her sight The soule of Iustice resteth in her eye Her contemplation's chiefly to descry True worth from painted showes and loyalty From false and deepe dissembled trechery A noble Statesman from a Paraâ—ite And good from what is meerely good in sight Such hidden things her piercing eye can see If Iustice then be blinde how blinde are we ¶ Right fondly have the Poets pleas'd to say From earth the faire Astraea's fled away And in the shining Baudrike takes her seat To make the number of the Signes compleat For why Astraea doth repose and rest Within the Zodiake of my Sov'raignes brest And from the Cradle of his infancy Hath train'd his Royall heart with industry In depth of righteous lore and sacred thewes Of Iustice Schoole that this my Haggard Muse Cannot containe the freenesse of her spright But make a Mounty at so faire a flight Perchance though like a bastard Eagle daz'd With too great light she winke and fall amaz'd ¶ Heav'n make my heart more thankfull in confessing So high a blisse than skilfull in expressing THE ARGVMENT The Quene brings Hamans accusation The King 's displeas'd and growes in possion Proud Hamans trechery descry'd The shamefull end of shamelesse pride Sect. 14. FOrthwith to satisfie the Queenes request The King and Haman came unto her Feast Whereat the King what then can hap amisse Became her suitor that was humbly his And fairely thus intreating this bespake What is 't Queene Ester would and for her sake What is 't the King would not preferre thy suit Faire Queene Those that despaire let them be mute Cleare up those clouded beames my fairest Bride My Kingdomes halfe requested I 'le divide Whereat the Queene halfe hoping halfe afraid Disclos'd her trembling lips and thus she said If in the bounty of thy Princely Grace Thy sad Petitioner may finde a place To shrow â—her most unutterable griefe Which if not there may hope for no reliefe If in the treasure of thy gracious eyes Where mercy and relenting pity lies Thy hand-â—aid hath found favour let my Lord Grant me my life my life so much abbord To doe him service and my peoples life Which now lye open to a Tyrants knife Our lives are sold 't is I t is guiltlesse I Thy loyall Spouse thy Queene and â—ers must dye The spotlesse blood of me thy faithfull Bride Must swage the swelling of a Tyrants pride Had we beene sold for drudges to attend The busie Spindle or for slaves to spend Our weary howers to deserve our bread So as the gaine stood but my Lord in stead I had beene silent and ne're spent my breath But neither he that seekes it nor my death Can to himselfe the least advantage bring Except revenge nor to my Lord the King Like to a Lyon rouzed from his rest Rag'd then the King and thus his rage exprestâ— Who is the man that dares attempt this thing Where is the Traitor What am I a King May not our subjects serve but must our Queene Be made the subject of a visâ—aines spleene Is not Queene Ester bosom'd in our heart What Traitor then dares be so bold to part Our heart and us Who dares attempt this thing Can Ester then be slaine and not the King Reply'd the Queene The man that hath done this That cursed Haman wicked Haman is Like as a Felon shakes before the Bench Whose troubled silence proves the Evidence So Haman trembled when Queene Ester spake Nor answer nor excuse his guilt could make The King no longer able to digest So foule a trechery forsooke the Feast Walk'd in the Garden where consuming rage Boil'd in his heart with fire unapt t' asswage So Haman pleading guilty to the fault Besought his life of her whose life he sought When as the King had walk'd a little space So rage and choller often shift their place In he return'd where Haman fallen flat Was on the bed whereon Queene Ester sate Whereat the King new cause of rage debares Apt to suppose the worst of whom he hates New passion addes new fuell to his fire And faines a cause to make it blaze the higher Is 't not enough for him to seeke her death Said hee but with a Letchers tainted breath Will be inforce my Queene before my face And make his Brothell in our Royall Place So said they veiled Hamans face as he Vnfit were to be seene or yet to see Then said an Eunuch sadly standing by In Hamans Garden fifty Cubits high There stands a Gibbet built but yesterday Made for thy loyall servant Mordecai Whose faithfull lips thy life from danger freed And merit leads him to a fairer meed Said then the King It seemeth just and good To shed his blood that thirsted after blood Who plants the tree deserves the fruit 't is fit That he that bought the purchase hansell it Hang Haman there It is his proper good So let the Horseleach burst himselfe with blood They straight obeyd Lo here the end of Pride Now rests the King appeas'd and satisfi'd Meditat. 14. CHeere up and caroll forth your silver ditie Heavens winged quiristers and fil your City earth The new Ierusalem with jolly mirth The Church hath peace in heaven hath peace on Spread forth your golden pinions and cleave The flâ—tting skies dismount and quite bereave Our stupid senses with your heavenly mirth For loe there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth Let Hallelujah fill your warbling tongues And let the ayre compos'd of saintly songs Breathe such celestiall Sonnets in our eares That whosoe're this heav'nly musicke heares May stand amaz'd ravisht at the mirth ChaÌ„t forth there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth Let mountaines clap their joyfull joyfull hands And let the lesser hils trace o're the lands In equall measure and resounding woods Bow downe your heads
hopefull tokenâ— of reliefe Departs the presence of the King addrest In royall Robes and on his lofty Crest He bore a Crowne of Gold his body spred With Lawne and Purple deepely coloured Fill'd were the Iewes with triumphs with noise The common Heralds to proclaime true joyes Like as a prisner muffled at the tree Whose life 's remov'd from death scarce one degree His last pray'r said and hearts confession made His eyes possessing deaths eternall shade At last unlook'd for comes a slow Reprieve And makes him even as dead once more alive Amaz'd he rends deaths muffler from his eyes And over-joy'd knowes not he lives or dyes So joy'd the Iewes whose lives this new Decree Had quit from death and danger and set free Their gasping soules and like a blazing light Disperst the darknesse of the approaching night So joy'd the Iewes and with their solemne Feasts They chaâ—'d dull sorrow from their penâ—ive brestsâ— Meane while the people startled at the newes Some griev'd some envi'd some for feare turn'd Iewes Meditat. 16. AMong the noble Greekes it was no shame To lose a Sword It but deserv'd the name Of warres disastrous fortune but to yeeld The right and safe possession of the Shield Was foule reproach and manlesse cowardize Farre worse than death to him that scorn'd to prize His life before his Honour Honour 's wonne Most in a just defence Defence is gone The Shield once lost the wounded Theban cry'd How fares my Shield which safe he smil'd dy'd True honour bides at home and takes delight In keeping not in gaining of a Right Scornes usurpation nor seekes she blood And thirsts to make her name not great as good God gives a Right to man To man defence To guard it giv'n but when a false pretence Shall ground her title on a greater Might What doth he else but warre with heav'n and fight With Providence God seâ—s the Princely Crowne On heads of Kings Who then may take it downe No juster quarrell or more noble Fight Than to maintaine where God hath giv'n a Right There 's no despaire of Conquest in that warre Where God's the Leader Policy 's no barre To his designes no Power can withstand His high exploits within whose mighty Hand Are all the corners of the earth the hills His fensive bulwarks are which when he wills His lesser breath can bandy up and downe And crush the world and with a winke can drowne The spacious Vniverse in suds of Clay Where heav'n is Leader heav'n must win the day God reapes his honour hence That combat's safe Where hee 's a Combatant and ventures halfe Right 's not impair'd with weaknesse but prevailes In spight of strength wheÌ„ strength power failes Fraile is the trust repos'd on Troops of Horse Truth in a handfull findes a greater force ¶ Lord maile my heart with faith and be my shield And if a world confront me I 'le not yeeld THE ARGVMENT The bloody Massacre The Iâ—wes Prevaile their â—atall sword subdues A world of men and in that â—ray Hamans ten cursed sonnes they slay Sect. 17. NOw when as Time had rip'ned the Decree Whose Winter fruit unshaken from the tree Full ready was to fall and brought that Day Wherein pretended mischiefe was to play Her tragicke Sceane upon the Iewish Stage And spit the venome of her bloody rage Vpon the face of that dispersed Nation And in a minute breathe their desolation Vpon that day as patients in the fight Their scatter'd force the Iewes did reunite And to a head their straggling strength reduc'd And with their fatall hand their hand disus'd To bathe in blood they made so long recoyle That with a purple streame the thirsty soyle O'rflowd on the pavement drown'd with blood Where never was before they rais'd a flood There lies a headlesse body there a limme Newly dis-joynted from the trunke of him That there lies groaning here a gasping head Cropt froÌ„ his neighbors shoulders there halfe dead Full heapes of bodies whereof some curse Fate Others blaspheme the name of Heav'n and rate Their undisposed Starres with bitter cries One pities his poore widow-wife and dies Another bannes the night his sonnes were borne That he must dye and they must live forlorne Here all besmeard in blood congeald there lyes A throng of carcases whose livelesse eyes Are clos'd with dust death there lies the Syre Whose death the greedy heire did long desire And here the sonne whose hopes were all the pleasure His aged father had and his lifes treasure Thus fell their foes some dying and some dead And onely they that scap'd the slaughter fled But with such strange amazement were affrighted As if themselves in their owne deaths delighted That each his force against his friend addrest And sheath'd his sword within his neighbours brest For all the Rulers being sore afraid Of Mardocheus name with strength and ayde Supply'd the Iewes For Mardecheus name Grew great with honour and his honour'd Fame Was blaz'd through ev'ry Province of the Land And spred as farre as did the Kings Command In favour he increast and ev'ry how'r Did adde a greater greatnesse to his pow'r Thus did the Iewes triumph in victory And on that day themselves were doom'd to dye They slew th' appointed actors of their death And on their heads they wore that noble wreath That crownes a Victor with a Victors prize So fled their foes so dyde their enemies And on that day at Susan were imbru'd In blood five hundred men whom theyâ— subdu'd The cursed fruit of the accursed Tree That impious Decad Hamaâ—s progeny Vpon that fatall day they overthrew But tooke no spoile nor substance where they slew Medit. 17. I Lately mus'd and musing stood amaz'd My heart was bound my sight was overdaz'd To view a miracle could Pharo fall Before the face of Isr'el Could her small And ill-appointed handfull then prevaile When Pharo's men of warre and Charr'ots faile These stood like Gyants those like Pigmy brats These soar'd like Eagles those like swarms of gnats On foote these marcht those rod on troops of horse These never better arm'd they never worse Strong backt with vengeaÌ„ce revenge were they These with despaire themselves theÌ„selves betray They close pursu'd these fearefull fled the field How could they chuse but win or these but yeeld Sure 't is nor man nor horse nor sword availes When Isr'el conquers and great Pharo failes Poore Isr'el had no man of warre but One And Pharo having all the rest had none Heav'n fought for Isr'el weakned Pharo's heart Who had no Counter-god to take his part What meant that cloudy Pillar that by day Did usher Isr'el in an unknowne way What meant that fi'ry Pillar that by night Appear'd to Isr'el and gave Isr'el light 'T was not the secret power of Moses Rod That charm'd the Seas in twaine 't was Moses God That fought for Isr'el and made Pharo fall Well thrives the Fray where God's the Generall 'T is neither
and that on t' other Seed Moves as they move and stayes when as they stay And seemes delighted in their infant-play Yet fearing danger with a busie eye Lookes here and there if ought she can espy Which unawares might snatch a booty from her Eyes all that passe and watches every commer Even so th' affection of this tender Syre B'ing made more fervent with the selfe-same â—â—re Of dearest love which flamed in their brests Preserved as by fuell in those Feasts Was ravisht in the height of joyes to see His happy Childrens ten-fold unity As was his joy such was his holy feare Lest he that plants his Engines every where Baited with golden Sinnes and re-insnares The soule of Man turning his Wheat to Tares Should season Error with the taste of Truth And tempt the frailty of their tender youth No sooner therefore had the dappled skie Opened the Twilight of her waking eye And in her breaking Light had promis'd day But up he rose his holy hands did Iay Vpon the sacred Altar one by one An early Sacrifice for every Sonne For who can tell said he my Sonnes perchance Hâ—ve slipt some sinne which neither Ignorance Pleaded nor want of heed nor youth can cure Sin steales unseene when men sleep most secure Meditat. 1. WAnt is the badge of poverty Then he That wanteth most is the most poore say we The wretch that hunger drives from door to door Aiming at present Almes desires no more The toiling Swaine that hath with pleasing trouble Cockt a small fortune would that fortune double Which dearly bought with slav'ry then alas Hee would be deem'd a Man that 's well to passe Which got his mind 's now tickled with an itch But to deserve that glorious stile of Rich. That done h'enjoyes the crowne of all his labour Could he but once out-nose his right-hand-neighbourâ— Lives he at quiet now Now he begins To wish that Vs'ry were the least of sinnes But great or small he tries and sweet's the trouble And for its sake he wishes all things double Thus wishing still his wishes never cease But as his Wealth his Wishes still encrease Wishes proceed from want The richest then Most wishing want most and are poorest men If he be poore that wanteth much how poore Is he that hath too much and yet wants more Thrice happy he to whom the bounty of heaven Sufficient with a sparing hand hath given 'T is Grace not Gold makes great sever but which The Rich man is but poore the Poore man rich The fairest Crop of either Grasse or Graine Is not for use undew'd with timely raine The wealth of Croesus were it to be given Were not thank-worthy if unblest by Heaven Even as faire Phaebe in Diameter Earth interpos'd betwixt the Sunne and her Suffers Eclips and is disrobed quite During the time of all her borrowed Light So Riches which fond Mortals so embrace If not enlightned with the Beames of Grace B'ing interposed with too grosse a Care They lye obscured and no riches are My stint of Wealth lyes not in my expressing With Iacobs Store Lord give me Iacobs Blessing Or if at night thou grant me Lazars Boone Let Dives Dogs licks all my sores at noone Lord pare my wealth by my Capacity Lest I with it or it suit not with mee This humbly doe I sue for at thy hand Enough and not too much for my command Lord what thou lend'st shall serve but in the place Of reckoning Counters to summe up thy Grace THE ARGVMENT Satan appeares and then professes Himselfe mans Enemy confesses Gods love to Iob malignes his Faith Gaines power over all he hath Sect. 2. VPon a time when heaveÌ„s sweet quire of Saints Whose everlasting Hallelujah chaunts The highest praise of their celestiall King Before their Lord did the presentment bring Of th' execution of his sacred Will Commited to their function to fulfill Satan came too that Satan which betraid The soule of man to Deaths eternall shade Satan came too and in the midst he stands Like to a Vulture 'mongst a herd of Swans Said then th' Eternall From what quarter now Hath businesse brough thee Satan whence com'st thou The Lord of Heaven said th' Infernall since Thou hast intitled me the Worlds great Prince I hâ—ve beene practising mine old profession And come from compassing my large Possession Tempting thy sonnes and like a roaring Lion Seeking my prey disturbe the peace of Sion I come from sâ—wing Tares among thy Wheat To him that shall dissemble Peters seat I have beene plotting how to prompt the death Of Christian Princes and the bribed breath Of cheapned Iustice hath my fire inflam'd With spirit of boldnesse for a while unsham'd I come from planting strife and sterne debate 'Twixt private man and man 'twixt State and State Subverting Truth with all the power I can Accusing Man to God and God to Man I daily sâ—w fresh Schismes among thy Saints I buffet them and laugh at their complaints The Earth is my Dominion Hell 's my Home I round the World and so from thence I come Said then th' Eternall True thou hast not fail'd Of what thou say'st thy spirit hath prevail'd To vexe my little Flocke Thou hast beene bold To make them stray a little from their Fold Bâ—t say In all thy hard Adventures hath Thine eye observed Iob my Servants faith Hath open force or secret fraud beset His Bulwarkes so impregnable as yet And hast thou without envy yet beheld How that the World his second cannot yeeld Hast thou not found that he 's of upright will Iust fearing God â—schewing what is ill True Lord reply'd the Fiend thy Champion â—â—th A strong and fervent yet a crafty Faith A forced love needs no such great applause He loves but ill that loves not for a cause Hast thou not heap'd his Garners with excesse Inricht his Pastures Doth not he possesse All that he hath or can demand from Thee His Coffers fill'd his Land stock'd plenteouâ—â—y Hath not thy love surrounded him about â—And â—edg'd him in to fence my practice out But small 's the triall of a Faith in this â—f thou suppâ—rt him t is thy strength not hisâ— Can then my power that stands by thy permission Encounter where Thou mak'st an Opposition Stretch forth thy Hand and smite 〈◊〉 what he hath And prove thou then the temper of his Faith Cease cock'ring his fond humour veile thy Grace No doubt but he 'll blaspheme thee to thy fâ—â—c Lâ—e said th' Eternall to thy cursed hand I â—ere commit his mighty Stocke his Land His hopefull Issue and Wealth though nere so much Himselfe alone thou shalt forbeare to touch Medita 2. SAâ—an beg'd once and found his pray'rs reward We often beg yet oft returne unheard If granting be th' effect of love then we Conclude our selves to be lesse lov'd than hee True Satan beg'd and beg'd his shame no lesse 'T was granted shall we envie his successe We beg and our request 's perchance not granted
at length So mortals die and being dead ne're minde The fairest fortunes that they leave behinde While man is man untill that death bereave him Of his last breath his griefes shal never leave him Meditat. 10. DOth Hist'ry then and sage Chronologiâ— The Index pointing to Antiquity So firmly grounded on deepe Iudgement guarded And kept by so much Miracle rewarded With so great glory serve but as slight Fables To edge the dulnesse of mens wanton Tables And claw their itching eares Or doe they rather Like a conciâ—e Abridgement serve to gather Mans high Adventures and his transitory Atchievements to expresse his Makers glory Acts that have blown the lowdest Trumpe of Fame Are all but humours purchas 't in His name Is he that yesterday went forth to bring His Fathers Asses home to day crown'd King Did hee that now on his brave Palace stood Boasting his Babels beauty chew the cud An hower after Have not Babes beene crown'd And mighty Monarchs beaten to the ground Man undertakes heaven breathes successe upon it What good what evill is done but heaveÌ„ hath done it The Man to whom thâ— world was not asham'd To yeeld her Colours he that was proclam'd A God in humane shape whose dreadfull voyce Did strike men dead like Thunder at the noyse Was rent away from his Imperiall Throne Before his flowre of youth was fully blowne His race was rooted out his Issue slaine And left his Empire to another straine Who that did e're behold the ancient Rome Would rashly given her glory such a doome Or thought her subject to such alterations That was the Mistresse and the Queen of Nations Egypt that in her wals had once engrost More Wisdome than the world besides hath lost Her senses now Her wisest men of State Are turn'd like Puppets to be pointed at If Romes great power and Egypts wisdome can Not ayde themselves how poore a thing is Man God plaies with Kingdomes as with Tennis-balls Fells some that rise and raises some that fals Nor policy can prevent nor secret Fate Where Heaven hath pleas'd to blow upon a State If States be not secure nor Kingdomes than How helpelesse Ah! how poore a thing is Man Man 's like a flower the while he hath to last Hee 's nipt with frost and shooke with every blast Hee 's borne in sorrow and brought up in teares He lives a while in sinne and dyes in feares Lord I 'le not boast what e're thou give unto me Lest e're my brag be done thou take it from me No man may boast but of his owne I can Then boast of nothing for I am a Man THE ARGVMENT Rash Eliphaz doth aggravate The sinnes of Iob malign's his flâ—te Whom Iob reproving justifies Himselfe bewailes his miseries Sect. 11. DOth vaine repining Eliphaz replies Or words like wind beseeme the man that 's wise Ahsure thy faithlesse heart rejects the feare Of heaven dost not acquaint thy lips with pray'r Thy words accuse thy heart of Impudence Thy tongue not I brings in the Evidence Art thou the first of men Doe Mysteries Vnfold to thee Art thou the onely wise Wherein hath Wisdome beene more good to you Then us What know you that we never knew Reverence not Censure fits a young mans eyes We are your Ancients and should be as wise It't not enough your Arrogance derides Our counsels but must scorne thy God besides Angels if God in quier strictly must Not pleade Perfection then can man be just It is a truth receiv'd these aged eyes Have seen 't and is confirmed by the wise That still the wicked man is void of rest Is alwayes fearefull falls when he feares least In trouble he despaires and is dejected He begs his bread his death comes unexpected In his adversity his griefes shall gaule him And like a raging Tyrant shall in thâ—all him He shall advance against his God in vaine For Heaven shall crush beate him downe againe What iâ— his Garners thrive and goods increase They shall not prosper nor he live in peace Eternall horrour shall begâ—â—t him round And vengeance shall both him and his confound Amidst his joyes despaire shall stop his breath His sons shall perish with untimely death The double soule shall die and in the hollow Of all false hearts falâ—e hearts theÌ„selves shall swallow Then answered Iob All this before I knew They want no griefe that finde such friends as you Ah cease your words the fruits of ill spent houres If heaven should please to make my fortunes yours I would not scoffe you nor with taunts torment ye My lips should comfort and these eyes lament ye What shall I doe speake not my griefes oppresse My soule or speake alas they 'r ne're thelesse Lord I am wasted and my pangs have spent me My skin is wrinkâ—ed for thy hand hath rent me Mine enemies have smit me in disdaine Laught at my torments jested at my paine I swell'd in wealth but now alas am poore And feld with woe lye groveling on the floore In dust and sackcloth I lament my sorrowes Thy Hand hath trencht my cheekes with water furrowes Nor can I comprehend the cause that this My smart should be so grievous as it is Oh earth if then an Hypocrite I be Cover my cryes as I doe cover thee And witnesse Heaven that these my Vowes be truâ— Ah friends I spend my teares to Heav'n not you My time 's but short alas would then that I Might try my cause with God before I dye Since then I languish and not farre from dead â—et me a while with my Accusers plead Before the Iudge of heaven and earth my right Have they not wrong'd and vext me day night Who first layes downe his Gage to meet me Say I doubt not Heaven being Iudge to win the day You 'll say perchance wee 'll recompell your word E're simple truth should unawares afford Your discontent No no forbeare for I Hate lesse your Censures then your flattery I am become a By-word and a Tabor To set the tongues and eares of men in labour Mine eyes are dimme my body 's but a shade Good men that see my case will be afraid But not confounded They will hold their way And in a bad they 'll hope a better day Recant your errours for I cannot see One man that 's truly wise among you Three My dayes are gone my thoughts are mis-possest The silent night that heaven ordain'd for rest My day of travell is but I shall have E're long long peace within my welcome grave My neerest kinred are the wormes the earth My mother for she gave me first my birth Where are my hopes then where that future joy Which you fals-prophecy'd I should enjoy Both hopes and I alike shall travell thither Where clos'd in dust we shall remaine together Meditat. 11. THe Morall Poets nor unaptly faine That by lame Vulcans help the pregnant brain Of soveraigne â—ove brought forth and at that birth Was borne Minerva Lady of the earth
passed on me His Iustice hath no limits is extended Beyond conceit by man vnapprehended Let Heaven be Vmpire and make Arbitration Betwixt my guiltlesse heart and your taxaâ—ion My Embrion thoughts and words are all inroll'd Pure will he find them as refined Gold His steps I followed and uprightly stood His Lawes have been my guide his words my food Hath he but once decreed alas there 's none Can barre for what he wills must needs be done His Will 's a Law If he have doom'd that I Shall still be plagu'd 't is bootlesse to reply Hence comes it that my sore afflicted spright Trembles and stands confounded at his sight His hand hath strucke my spirits in a maze For I can neither end my Griefes nor dayes Why should not times in all things be forbid When to the just their time of sorrow 's hid Some move their Land marks rob their neighbour flocks Others in gage receive the widowes oxe Some grind the poore while others seeke the prey They reape their Harvest beare their graine away Men presse their Oyle they distraine their store And rend the Gleanings from the hungry poore The City roares the blood which they have spent Cryes unreveng'd for equall punishment Early they murther and rob late at night They trade in Darknesse for they hate the Light They sin unpunisht thriving uncontrold And what by force they got by force they hold O friends repeale your words your speeches bring No lawfull issue prove not any thing Your deeper wisedomes argue in effect That God doth or not know or else neglect Conclude with me or prove my words untrue I must be found the lyar or else you Meditat. 13. THe wisest men that Nature ere could boast For secret knowledge of her power were loâ—t Confounded and in deepe amazement stood In the discovery of the Chiefest Good Keenly they hunted beat in every bracke Forwards they went on either hand and backe Return'd they counter but their deep-mouth'd art Thogh often challeng'd sent yet ne're could start In all th' Enclosures of Philosophy That Game from squat they terme Felicity They jangle and their Maximes disagree As many men so many mindes there be One digs to Pluto's Throne thinks there to finde Her Grace rak't up in Gold anothers mind Mounts to the Courts of Kings with plumes of honor And feather'd hopes hopes there to seize upon her A third unlocks the painted Gate of Pleasure And ransacks there to finde this peerlesse Treasure A fourth more sage more wisely melancholy Perswades himselfe her Deity 's too holy For common hands to touch he rather chuses To make a long dayes journey to the Muses To Athens gown'd he goes and from that Schoole Returnes unsped a more instructed foole Where lyes she then Or lyes she any where Honours are bought and sold she rests not there Much lesse in Pleasures hath she her abiding For they are shar'd to Beasts and ever sliding Nor yet in Vertue Vertue 's often poore And crusht with fortune begs from doore to door Nor is she sainted in the Shrine of wealth That makes men slaves is unsecur'd from stealth Conclude we then Felicity confists Not in exteriour Fortunes but her lists Are boundlesse and her large extension Out-runnes the pace of humane apprehension Fortunes are seldome measur'd by desert The fairer face hath oft the fouler heart Sacred Felicity doth ne're extend Beyond it selfe In it all wishes end The swelling of an outward Fortune can Create a prosp'rous not a happy man A peacefull Conscience is the true Content And Wealth is but her golden Ornament I care not so my Kernell relish well How slender be the substance of my shell My heart bâ—ing vertuous let my face be wan I am to God I onely seeme to man THE ARGVMENT Bildad showes mans impurity Iob seâ—teth forth th' Almighties power Pleads still his owne integrity Gods Wisedome no man can discover Sect. 14. SAid Bildad then With whom dost thou contest But with thy Maker that lives ever blest His pow'r is infinite mans light is dimme And knowledge darknesse not deriv'd from him Say then who can be just before him No man Can challenge Purity that 's borne of Woman The greater Torch of heaven in his sight Shall be asham'd and lose his purer light Much lesse can man that is but living Dust And but a â—airer Worme be pure and just Whereat Iob thus Doth heav'ns high judgement stand To be supported by thy weaker hand Wants he thy helpe To whom dost thou extend These these thy lavish lips and to what end No Hee 's Almighty and his Power doth give Each thing his Being and by him they live To him is nothing darke his soveraigne hands Whirle round the restless Orbs his pow'r coÌ„mands The evenâ—pois'd Earth The water-pots of heaven He empties at his pleasure and hath given Appointed lists to keepe the Waters under The trembling skies he strikes amaz'd with thuÌ„der These these the Trophies of his Power be Where is there e're a such a God as He My friends these eares have heard your censures on me And heaveÌ„s sharp haÌ„d doth waigh so hard upon me So languishing in griefe that no defence Seemes to remaine to shield my Innocence Yet while my soule a gaspe of breath affords I 'le not distrust my Maker nor your words Deserve which heaven foâ—fend that ever I Prove true but I 'le plead guiltlesse till I dye While I have breath my pangs shal ne're perswade me To wander and revolt from Him that made me E're such thoughts spring from this confused breâ—t Let death and tortures doe their worst their best What gaines the Hypocrite although the whole Worlds wealth he purchase with the prize on 's soule Will heaven heare the voice of his disease Can he repent and turne when e're he please True God doth sometime plague with open shame The wicked often blurres he forth his Name From out the earth his children shall be slaine And who survive shall beg their bread in vaine What if his gold be heapt the good man shall Possesse it as true Master of it all Like Moths their houses shall they build in doubt And danger every houre to be cast out Besieg'd wiâ—h want their lips make fruitlesse mone Yet wanting succour be reliev'd by none The worme of Conscience shall torment his brest And he shall rore when others be at rest Gods hand shall scourge him that he cannot flie And men shall laugh and hisse to heare him cry The purest metal 's hid within the mould Without is gravell but within is Gold Man digs and in his toile he takes a pleasure He seekes and findes within the turfe the treasure He never rests unsped but underneath He mines and progs though in the fangs of death No secret how obscure soever can Earths bosome smother that 's unfuond by man But the Divine and high Decrees of Heaven What minde can search into No power 's given To mortall man whereby he may
's an Index to Eternity And gives a glance of what our cleerer eye In time shall see at large nothing's so slight Which in it nature sends not forth some light Or Memorandum of his Makers Glory No Dust so vile but pens an ample story Of the Almighties power nor is there that Which gives not man just cause to wonder at Cast down thine eies behold the pregnant earth Her selfe but one produceth at one birth A world of divers natures From a seed Entirely one things hot and cold proceed She suckles with one milke things moist and dry Yet in her wombe is no repugnancy Or shall thy reason ramble up so high To view the Court of wilde Astronomy Behold the Planets round about thine eares Whirling like firebals in their restlesse Spheares At one selfe-instant moving severall wayes Still measuring out our short and shorter dayes Behold the parts whereon the World consists Are limited in their appointed lists Without rebellion unapt to vary Though being many divers and contrary Looke where we list above bâ—neath or under Our eyes shall see to learne and learne to wonder Their depth shall drown our judgements and their height Besides his wits shal drive the prime coÌ„ceit Shall then our daring minds presume t' aspire To heavens hid Myst'ries shall our thoughts inquirâ— Into the depth of secrets unconfounded When in the shoare of Nature they were drowned Fond man be wise strive not above thy strength Tempt not thy Barke beyond her Cables length And like Prometheus filch no sacred fire Lest Eagles gripe thee Let thy proud desire Suit with thy fortunes Curious mindes that shall Mount up with Phaeton shall have Phaetons fall Vnbâ—nd thy bow betimes lest thou repent Too late for it will breake or else stand bent I 'le work at home ne'r crosse the scorching Line In unknowne lands to seeke a hidden Mine Plaine Bullion pleaseth me I not deâ—ire Deare Ignoâ—s from th'Elixars techy fire I 'le spend my paines where best I may be bold To know my selfe wherein I shall behold The world abridg'd and in that world my Maker Beyond which taske I wish no Vndertaker Great God by whom it is what-e're is mine Make me thy Viceroy in this World of thine So cleare mine eyes that I may comprehend My slight beginning and my sudden end THE ARGVMENT God questions Iob and proves that man Cannot attaine to things so high As divine secrets since he can Not reach to Natures Iobs reply Sect. 18. FOrth from the bosome of a murm'ring Cloud Heavens great â—ehovah did at length unshroud His Earths-amazing language equally Made terrible with Feare and Majesty Challeng'd the Duell he did undertake His grumbling servant and him thus bespake Who who art thou that thus dost pry in vaine Into my secrets hoping to attaine With murmuring to things conceal'd from man Say poreblinde mortall Who art thou that can Thus cleare thy crimes and dar'st with vaine applause Make me defendant in thy sinfull cause Ioe here I am Engrosse into thy hands Thy soundest weapons Answer my demands Say where wert thou when these my haÌ„ds did lay The worlds foundation canst thou tell me Say Was earth not measur'd by this Arme of mine Whose hand did ayde me was I help't by thine Where wert thou when the Planets fiâ—st did blaze And in their sphears sang forth their Makers praise Who is 't that tames the raging of the Seas And swathes them up in mists when e're he please Did'st thou divide the darknesse from the Light Or know'st thou whence Aurora takes her flight Didst ere enquire into the Seas Abysse Or mark'd the Earth of what a bulk she is Know'st thou the place whence Light or Darknesse springâ— Can thy deepe age unfold these secret things Knowâ—st thou the cause of Snow or haile which are My fierce Artill'ry in my time of warre Who is 't that rends the gloomy Clouds in sunder Whose sudden rapture strikes forth fire thunder Or who bedewes the earth with gentle showres Filling her pregnant soyle with fruits and flowres What father got the raine from what chill wombe Did frosts and hard-congealed Waters come Canst thou restraine faire Maja's course or stint her Or sad Orion ushering in the Winter Will scorching Cancer at thy summons come Or Sun-burnt Autumne with he fruitfull wombe Know'st thou Heavens course above or dost thou know Those gentle influences here below Who was 't inspir'd thy soule with understanding Aâ—d gave thy spirit the spirit of apprehending Dost thou command the Cisternes of the Skie To quench the thirsty soyle or is it I Nay let thy practice to the earth descend Prove there how farre thy power doth extend From thy full hand will hungry Lions eate Feed'st thou the empty Ravens that cry for meaâ—eâ— Sett'st thou the season when the fearfull Hind Brings forth her painfull birth Hast thou assign'd The Mountaine-Goate her Time Or is it I Canst thou subject unto thy soveraigntie The untam'd Vnicorne Can thy hard hand Force him to labour on thy fruitfull land Did'st thou inrich the Peacock with his Plume Or did â—hat Steele-digesting Bird assume His downy Flags from thee Didst thou endow The noble Stallion with his strength Canst thou Quaile his proud courage See his angry breath Puffes nothing forth but fearsâ— summ'd up in death Marke with what pride his horny hoofes doe tabor The hard resounding Earth with how great labour How little ground he spends But at the noyse And fierce Alar'm of the hoarse Trumpets voyce He breaks the ranks amidst a thousand Speares Pointed with death undaunted at the feares Of doubfull warre he rushes like a Ranger Through every Troop scorns so brave a dangerâ— Doe lofty Haggards cleave the flitting Ayre With Plumes of thy devising Then how dare Thy ravenous lips thus thus at randome runne And countermaund what I the Lord have done Thinkst thou to learne fond Mortall thus by diving Into my secrets or to gaine by striving Plead then No doubt but thine will be the Day Speake peevish Plaintiffe if th'aft ought to say Ioâ— then replyde Great God I am but Dust â—y heart is sinfull and thy hands are just I am a Sinner Lord my words are wind My thoughts are vaine Ah Father I have sinn'd Shall dust reply I spake too much before I le close these lips and never answer more Meditat. 18. O Glorious Light A light unapprehended By mortall eyes O Glory never ended Nor ere created whence all Glory springs In heavenly bodyes and in earthly things O power Immense derived from a Will Most just and able to doe all but ill O Essence pure and full of Majesty Greatnesse it selfe and yet no quantity Goodnesse and without quality producing All things from out of Nothing and reducing All things to nothing past all comprehending Boâ—h first and Last and yet without an ending Or yet beginning filling every Creature And not it selfe included above Nature Yet not excluded of it selfe subsisting And with it selfe
not doe What then is man but Nothing being Evill His Lunatike affections doe unlevell What Heaven created by just Waight and measure In pleasures sinke he takes a swine like Pleasure His span of life and beauties like a Flower Faire flourishing and fading in an hower He breakes into the world with teares and then Departs with Griefe not knowing how nor when His life 's a Bubble full of seeming Blisse The more it lengthens the more short it is Begot in darknesse he 's brought forth and cries For succour passes ore the stage and dyes Yet like a Moale the earth he undermines Making the World the Forge of his designes He plots complots for esees prevents directs Hee hopes he feares he doubts pursues effects Each hath his plot each one his course doth bend Each hath his project and each one his end Thus restlesse man doth still his soule molest To finde out that which hath no being Rest Thus travels sinfull man in endlesse toyle Taking a pleasure in his owne turmoyle Fond man first seeke to purchase that divine And sacred prize and all the world is thine Great Salomon made suit for Wisdome and he found Not barely Wisdome but that Wisdome crown'd With Diadems of wealth and faire encrease Of Princely Honour with long dayes of Peace With safe respect and awfull reverence To Myst'ries Meditation doth commence An earnest doubt Was Iobs dispoiled Flock Restored double Was his former Stock Renew'd with double vantage Did heaven adde To all his fortunes double what he had Yet those sweet Emblemes of his dearest love His sonnes whom death untimely did remove From off the face of the unthankfull earth Why likewise sprang not they in double birth Bruit beasts that perish once are lost for ever Their substance and their All consumes together Once having given a farewell to the light They dye and with them is perpetuall night But man unorgan'd by the hand of Death Dyes not is but transplanted from beneath Into a fairer soyle or as a stranger Brought home secure from the worlds pleasing danger Iobs flocks were lost and therefore double given His Issue 's equall shar'd 'twixt Earth and Heaven One halfe in heav'n are glorious in their doome Ingag'd as Pledges till the other come Great God! my Time 's but short and long my way My Heart hath lost her Path and gone astray My spirit 's faint and fraile my soule 's imbost If thou helpe not I am for ever lost Though Dust and Ashes yet I am thy Creature Howe're my sinnes are great thy Mercie 's greater Of nothing didst thou make me and my sinne Hath turn'd me back to nothing once agin Create me a new heart great God inspire My cold affections with thy sacred fire Instruct my Will and rectifie my Wayes O teach me Lord to number out my Dayes The Digestion of the whole HISTORY 1 In Prosperity THou whose lank fortunes heav'n hath swel'd with store Make not thy selfe by over-wishing poore Husband that good which else abuse makes bad Abstracting where thy base desire would adde Lines flowing from a Sophoclean quill Deserve no Plaudit being acted ill 2 In Adversity Hath heav'n withdrawn the talent he hath giv'n thee Hath envious Death of all thy Sons bereaven thee Have soule Diseases foil'd thee on the floore He earnes no sweet that never tasted sowre Thou art a Scholler if thy Tutor doe Pose thee too hard he will instruct thee too 3 In Tentation Art thou oppos'd to thine unequall Foe March bravely on thy Gen'rall bids thee goe Thou art heav'ns Champion to maintain his right Who cals thee forth wil give thee strength to fight God seekes by conquest thy renowne for He Will win enough Fight thou or Faint or Flee 4 In Slander If Winter fortunes nip thy Summer Friends And tip their tongues with Censure that offends Thy tender Name despaire not but be wise Know Heaven selecteth whom the world denies Thou hast a milke-white Thisâ—y that's within 〈◊〉 Will take thy part when all the world's â—giâ— thee 5 In Re-advancement Art thou advanc'd to thy supreme desier Be still the same Feare Lower aime no higher Mans Play hath many Sceanes but in the last Heaven knits up all to sweeten all that 's past Affliction is a Rod to scourge us home An 'a painfull earnest of a Heaven to come The end THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER for I. MARRIOTT in S. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street 1632. To the READER THe tyranny of my affaires was never yet so imperious but I could steale some howers to my private Meditations the fruits of which stolne time I here present thee with in the History of Samson Wherein if thy extreme severity check at any thing which thou conceivest may not stand with the Majesty of this sacred Subject know that my intention was not to offend my brother The wisest of Kings inspired by the King of Wisdome thought it no detraction from the gravity of his Holy Proverbs to describe a Harlot like a Harlot Her whorish Attire her immodest Gesture her bold Countenance her flattering Tongue her lascivious Embraces her unchast Kisses her impudent Invitations If my descriptions in the like kinde offend I make no question but the validitie of my Warrant will give a reasonable satisfaction He that lifts not his feet high enough may easily stumble But on the contrary if any be whose worse then sacrilegious minds shall prophane our harmles intentions with wanton conceits to such I heartily wish a Procul Ite Let none such looke farther then this Epistle at their own perils If they doe let them put off their shoos for this is holy Ground Foule hands will muddle the clearest waters base minds will corrupt the purest Text If any offence be taken it is by way of stealth for there is none willingly given I write to Bees and not to Spiders They will sucke pleasing honey from such flowers These may burst with their owne poyson But you whose well-seasond hearts are not distempered with either of these extremities but have the better relish of a Sacred understanding draw neere and reade I Sing th' illustrious and renowned Story Of mighty Samson The eternall glory Of his Heroicke acts His life His death Quicken my Muse with thy diviner breath Great God of Muses that my prosp'rous Riâ—es May live and last to everlasting times That they unborne may in this sacred Story Admire thy goodnes and advance thy glory THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON THE ARGVMENT A holy Angell doth salute The wife of Manoah and inlarge Her barren wombe with promis'd fruit Of both their loynes The Angles charge Sect. 1. WIthin the Tents of Zorah dwelt a man Of Iacobs seed and of the Tribe of Dâ—n Knowne by the name of Maenoah to whom Heaven had deny'd the treasure of the wombe His Wife was barren And her prayers could not Remove that great reproach or clense that blot Which on her fruitlesse name appear'd
Skollops and returne the Shels Our sweet Pomgranats want their silver Bells We take the Gift the hand that did present it We oft reward forget the Friend that sent it A blessing given to those will not disburse Some thanks is little better then a curse Great giver of all blessings thou that art The Lord of Gifts give me a gratefull heart O give me that or keepe thy favours from me I wish no blessings with a Vengeance to me THE ARGVMENT Affrighted Manoah and his Wife Both prostrate on the naked earth Both rise The man despaires of life The woman cheares him Samsons birth Sect. 6. WHen time whose progresse mod'rates and out weares Th' extreamest passions of the highest fears By his benignant power had re-inlarg'd Their captive senses and at length discharg'd Their frighted thoughts the trembling couple rose From their unquiet and disturb'd repose Have you beheld a Tempest how the waves Whose unresisted Tyranny out-braves And threats to grapple with the darkned Skies How like to moving Mountaines they arise From their distempred Ocean and assaile Heav'ns Battlements nay when the windes dâ—e faile To breathe another blast with their owne motion They still are swelling and disturbe the Ocean Even so the Danite and his trembling wife Their yet confused thoughts are still at strife In their perplexed brests which entertain'd Continued feares too strong to be refrain'd Speechlesse they stood till Manoah that brake The silence first disclos'd his lips and spake What strange aspect was this that to our sight Appear'd so terrible and did affright Our scattering thoughts What did our eyes behold I feare our lavish tongues have bin too bold What speeches past betweene us Can'st recall The words we entertain'd the time withall It was no man It was no flesh and blood Me thought mine eares did â—ngle while he stood And commun'd with me At each word be spake Me thouâ—ht my heart recoil'd his voyce did shake My very Soule but when as he became So angry and so dainty of his name O how my wonder-smitteâ— heart began To faile O then I knâ—w it was no man No no It was the face of God Our eyes Have seene his face who ever saw 't but dies We are but dead Death dwells within his eye And we have seen 't and we shall surely die Where to the woman who did either hide Or else had overcome her feares replide Despairing Man take courage and forbeare These false predictions there 's no cause of feare Would Heaven accept our offerings and receive Our holy things and after that bereive His servants of their lives Can he be thus Pleas'd with our offerings unappeas'd with us Hath he not promis'd that the time shall come Wherein the fruits of my restored wombe Shall make thee father to a hopefull Sonne Can Heaven be false Or can these things be done When we are dead No no his holy breath Had spent in vaine if they had meant our death Recall thy needlesse feares Heaven cannot lye Although we saw his face we shall not dye So said they brake off their discourse and went He to the field and she into her Tent Thrice forty dayes not full compleat being come Within th'enclosure of her quickned wombe The Babe began to spring and with his motion Confirm'd the faith and quickned the devotion Of his beleeving parents whose devout And heaven-ascending Orizans no doubt Were turn'd to thanks and heart-rejoycing praise To holy Hymnes and heavenly Roundelaies The childe growes sturdy Every day gives strength Vnto his wombe-fed limmes till at the length Th'apparent mother having past the date Of her accompt does only now awaite The happy houre wherein she may obtaine Her greatest pleasure with her greatest paine When as the faire directresse of the night Had thrice three times repar'd her wained light Her wombe no longer able to retaine So great a guest betraid her to her paine And for the toilsome worke that she had done She found the wages of a new borne Sonne 〈◊〉 she call'd his name the childe encreast And hourely suckt a blessing with the brest Daily his strength did double He began To grow in favour both with God and Man His well attended Infancy was blest With sweetnesse in his Childhood he exprest True seeds of honour and his youth was crown'd With high and brave adventures which renown'd His honour'd name His courage was suppli'd With mighty strength His haughty spirit defide And hoast of men His power had the praise â—ove all that were before or since his dayes And to conclude Heav'n never yet conjoyn'd So strong a body with so stout a minde Meditat. 6. HOw pretious were those blessed dayes wherein Soules never startled at the name of Sin When as the voyce of death had never yet A mouth to open or to clame a debt When bashfull nakednesse forbare to call For needlesse skins to cover shame withall When as the fruit-encreasing earth obay'd The will of Man without the wound of spade Or helpe of Art When he that now remaines A cursed Captive to infernall chaines Sate singing Anthems in the heavenly Quire Among his fellow Angels When the Bryer The fruitlesse Bramble the fast growing weed And downy Thistle had as yet no seed When labour was not knowne and man did eate The earths faire fruits unearned with his sweate When wombs might have conceiv'd without the stain Of sin and brought forth children without paine When Heaven could speak to mans unfrighted eare Without the sense of Sin-begotten feare How golden were those dayes How happy than Was the condition and the State of man But Man obey'd not And his proud desire Cing'd her bold feathers in forbidden fire But Man transgrest And now his freedome feeles A sudden change Sinne followes at his heeles The voice calls Adam But poore Adam flees And trembling hides his face behind the trees The voice whilere that ravisht with delight His joyfull eare does now alas affright His wounded conscience with amaze and wonder And what of late was musicke now is Thunder How have our sinnes abus'd us and betrai'd Our desperate soules What strangenes have they made Betwixt the great Creator and the worke Of his owne hands How closely doe they lurke To our distempred soules and whisper feares And doubts into our frighted hearts and eares Our eyes cannot behold that glorious face Which is all life unruin'd in the place How is our nature chang'd That very breath Which gave us being is become our death Great God! O whither shall poore mortalls flie For comfort If they see thy face they dye And if thy life-restoring count'nance give Thy presence from us then we cannot live How necessary is the ruine than And misery of sin-beguiled Man On what foundation shall his hopes relie See wee thy face or see it not we dye O let thy Word great God instruct the youth And frailty of our faith Thy Word is truth And what our eyes want power to perceive O let our
the God of Love's as blinde as hee 〈◊〉 that they brought poore Samson to the Hall 〈◊〉 as he past he gropes to finde the wall 〈◊〉 paâ—â— was slow His feet were lifted high 〈◊〉 tongue would taunt him Every scornfull eye 〈◊〉 filld with laughter Some would cry aloud 〈◊〉 in state His Lordship is growne proud 〈◊〉 bid his honour â—asle whilst others cast â—prochfull termes upon him as he past 〈◊〉 would salute him fairely and embrace 〈◊〉 wounded sides then spit upon his face 〈◊〉 would cry For shame for heare t' abuse 〈◊〉 high and great redeemer of the Iewes 〈◊〉 gibe and flout him with their taunts quip◠〈◊〉 others flurt him on the starting lips 〈◊〉 that poore Samson whose abundant griefe 〈…〉 hopes of comfort or reliefe Resolv'd for patience Turning round he made Some shift to feele his Keeper out and said Good Sir my painfull labour in the Mill Hath made me bold although against my will To crave some little rest If you will please To let the Pillour but afford some ease To my worne limmes your mercy should relieve A soule that has no more but thanks to give The keeper yeelded Now the Hall was filld With Princes and their People that beheld Abused Samson whilst the Roofe retain'd A leash of thousands more whose eyes were chainâ—â— To this sad Object with a full delight To see this flesh-and-blood-relenting sight With that the pris'ner turnd himselfe and pray'd So soft that none but heaven could heare and saidâ— My God my God Although my sinnes doe cry For greater vengeance yet thy gratious eye Is full of mercy O remember now The gentle promise and that sacred vow Thou mad'st to faithfull Abram and his seed O heare my wounded soule that has lesse need Of life then mercy Let thy tender eare Make good thy plenteous promise now and heare See how thy cursed enemies prevaile Above my strength Behold how poore and fraile My native power is and wanting thee What is there Oh what is there Lord in me Nor is it I that suffer My desert May challenge greater vengeance if thou wert â—xtreme to punish Lord the wrong is thine The punishment is just and onely mine I am thy Champion Lord It is not me They strike at Through my sides they thrust at thee 〈◊〉 thy Glory 't is their Malice lies 〈◊〉 at that when they put out these eyes 〈◊〉 their blood-bâ—dabl'd hands would flie 〈…〉 thou but cloth'd in flesh as I 〈◊〉 thy wrongs great God O let thy hand 〈◊〉 thy suffring honour and this land 〈◊〉 â—e thy power Renew my wasted strength 〈…〉 fight thy bâ—ttels and at length 〈◊〉 thy glory that my hands may do 〈◊〉 faithfull service they were borne unto 〈…〉 thy power that I may restore 〈◊〉 and I will never urge thee more 〈◊〉 having ended both his armes he laid 〈◊〉 the pillours of the Hall and said 〈◊〉 with the Philistines I resigne my breath 〈◊〉 let my God finde Glory in my death 〈◊〉 having spoke his yeelding body strain'd 〈◊〉 those Marble pillours that sustain'd 〈◊〉 pondrous Roofe They cracket and with their fall 〈◊〉 fell the Battlements and Roofe and all 〈◊〉 with their ruines slaughter'd at a blow 〈◊〉 whole Assembly They that were below 〈◊〉 their sudden deaths from those that fell 〈◊〉 off the top whilst none was left to tell 〈◊〉 horrid shreckes that filld the spatious Hall 〈◊〉 ruines were impartiall and slew all 〈◊〉 fell and with an unexpected blow 〈◊〉 every one his death and buriall too Thus di'd our Samson whose brave death has won 〈◊〉 honour then his honourd life had done 〈◊〉 di'd our Conquerour whose latest breath 〈◊〉 crown'd with Conquest triumph'd over death 〈◊〉 di'd our Sampson whose last drop of blood â—deem'd heavn's glory and his Kingdome 's good Thus di'd heavens Champion and the earths bright Glory The heavenly subject of this sacred Story And thus th' impartiall hand of death that gathers All to the Grave repos'd him with his fathers Whose name shall flourish and be still in prime In spight of ruine or the teeth of Time Whose fame shal last till heaven shal please to free This Earth from Sinne and Time shall cease to be Medita 23. WAges of sinne is death The day must come Wherin the equall hand of death must sum The severall Items of mans fading glory Into the easie totall of one Story The browes that sweat for Kingdomes and renown To glorifie their Temples with a Crowne At length grow cold and leave their honourd name To flourish in th' uncertaine blast of Fame This is the heighth that glorious Mortalls can Attaine This is the highest pitch of Man The quilted Quarters of the Earths great Ball Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreame Ambition to deserve Six foote of length and three of bredth must serve This is the highest pitch that Man can flie And after all his Triumph he must die Lives he in Wealth Does well deserved store Limit his wish that he can wish no more And does the fairest bounty of encrease Crown him with plenty and his dayes with peaceâ— It is a right hand blessing But supply Of wealth cannot secure him He must die Lives he in Pleasure Does perpetuall mirth 〈◊〉 him a little Heaven upon his earth â—eets he no sullen care no sudden losse 〈◊〉 coole his joyes Breathes hee without a crosse â—ants he no pleasure that his wanton eye 〈◊〉 crave or hope from fortune He must dye 〈◊〉 he in Honour Hath his faire desart â—â—tain'd the freedome of his Princes heart 〈◊〉 may his more familiar hands disburse 〈◊〉 liberall favors from the royall purse 〈◊〉 his Honour cannot soare too high 〈◊〉 palefac'd death to follow He must dye Lives he a Conqu'rour And doth heaven blesse 〈◊〉 heart with spirit that spirit with successe Successe with Glory Glory with a name To live with the Eternitie of Fame The progresse of his lasting fame may vye With time But yet the Conquerour must dye Great and good God Thou Lord of life and deth 〈◊〉 whom the Creature hath his being breath Teach me to underprize this life and I Shall finde my losse the easier when I dye So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire That when these vaine and weary dayes expire I may discard my flesh with joy and quit My better part of this false earth and it Of some more sinne and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of Glory The end SIONS SONETS Sung By SOLOMON the KING And PERIPHRAS'D By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER 1632. To the READERS REaders now you have them May the end of my paines be the beginâ—ing of your pleasures Excuse me for â—haring so high else give me leave to excuse my selfe Indeed I flew with Eagles feathers otherwise I had not flowne or falne It is the Song of Songs There present you with The Author King SOLOMON the wisest of Kings The matter mysticall the divinest of subjects
soveraigne Lady of my select desires 〈◊〉 I I am He whom thy chaste soule admires 〈◊〉 Rose for smell the Lily to the eye 〈◊〉 so sweet is not so faire as I 〈◊〉 vailed beautie's not the glorious prize Of common sight within my beautie lies 〈◊〉 ne'rethelesse my glory were but small 〈◊〉 should want to honour thee with all 2. NOr doe I boast my excellence alone But thine deare spouse as whoÌ„ the world hath none 〈◊〉 to faith so pure in love as whom 〈◊〉 not a Bride so fits so chaste a Grome 〈◊〉 as the fairest Lily doth exceede 〈◊〉 fruitlesse Bramble or the foulest weede 〈◊〉 my love dost thou exceed the rest â—â—â—fect beautie of a loyall brest BRIDE SONET VII â—Ooke how the fruitfull tree whose ladeÌ„ boughâ— With swelling pride crowne Autumnes smiling browes Surpasses idle shrubs even so in worth My love transcends the worthies of the earth He was my shore in shipwracke and my shelter In stormes my shade when I began to swelter If hungry he was Food and if opprest With wrongs my Advocate with toile my rest 2 I Thirsted and full charged to the brinke He gave me bowles of Nectar for my drinke And in his sides he broacht me for a signe Of dearest love a Sacramentall wine He freely gave I freely dranke my fill The more I dranke the more remained still Did never Souldier to his Colours prove More chaste than I to so entire a Love 3. O How his beautie sets my soule on fire My spirits languish with extreame desire Desires exceeding limits are too lavish And wanting meanes to be effected ravish Then let thy breath like flaggons of strong wine Releeve and comfort this poore heart of mine For I am sicke till time that doth delay Our Marriage bring our joyfull Marriage day 4. TIll then O let my dearest Lord by whom These pleasing paines of my sweet sorrowes com◠〈◊〉 for me his vowes and with his due resort 〈◊〉 me to make the sullen time seeme short 〈◊〉 his sweet presence may I still be blest 〈◊〉 barr'd from whom my soule can finde no rest 〈◊〉 let all times be prosp'rous and all places 〈◊〉 witnesse to our undefil'd Embraces 5. ALl you whose seeming favours have profest The true affection of a loyall brest â—â—ge you all by the true love you beare 〈◊〉 friendship or what else yee count most deare â—isturbe ye not my Love O doe not reive 〈◊〉 of his joyes that is so apt to grieve 〈◊〉 not to breake his quiet slumbers lest 〈◊〉 rouze a raging Lyon from his rest 〈◊〉 not his spirit with your sinnes 6. HArke harke I heare that thrice-celestial voicâ— Wherein my spirits rapt with joyes rejoyce â—â—ice that tels me my beloved's nie 〈◊〉 the Musicke by the Majestie 〈◊〉 he comes 'T is not my blemisht face 〈◊〉 slacke the swiftnesse of his winged pace â—â—old he comes His Trumpet doth proclaime â—â—comes with speed A truer love ne're came 7 BEhold the fleetnesse of his nimble feet The Roe-Bucke the Hart were ne're so fleet The word I spake flew not so speedy from me As He the treasure of my soule comes to me He stands behinde my wall as if in doubt Of welcome Ah this Wall debarres him out O how injurious is this Wall of sin That barres my Lover out and bolts me in The BRIDE in the person of the BRIDEGROOME SONET VIII HArke harke me thinks I heare my true love say Breake downe that envious bar come away Arise my dearest Spouse and dispossesse Thy soule of doubtfull feares nor overpresse Thy tender spirits with the dull despaire Of thy demerits Love thou art as faire As Earth will suffer Time will make thee clearer Come forth my love then whom my life's neâ—â— dearer 2. COme forth my joy what bold affront of fear Can fright thy soule I thy Champion here 'T is I that call 't is I thy Bridegroome calls thee Beâ—ide it me what ever evill befalls thee The winter of thy sharpe Afflictions gone Why fear'st thou cold and art so neare the Sunne 〈◊〉 thy Sunne if thou be cold draw nearer 〈◊〉 forth my Love then whoÌ„ my life 's not dearerâ— 3. COme forth my dear the spring of joyes invite thee The flowers contend for beautie to delight thee Their sweet ambition's onely which might be 〈◊〉 sweet most faire because most like to thee 〈◊〉 Birds sweet Heralds of so sweet a Spring â—arble high notes and Hymeneans sing â—â—ing with joy t' enjoy so sweet a Hearer Come forth my love theÌ„ whoÌ„ my life 's not dearer 4 THe prosperous Vlne which this deare hand did plant Tenders due service to so sweet a Saint 〈◊〉 hidden Clusters swell with sacred pride 〈◊〉 kisse the lips of so so faire a Bride 〈…〉 in their leafes they lurke fearing to be Discryde by any till first seene by thee The clouds are past the heavens cannot be clearer Come forth dear love theÌ„ whoÌ„ my lif 's not dearer 5. MY Dove whoÌ„ daily dangers teach new shifts That like a Dove dost haunt the secret clifts Of solitary Rockes How e're thou be Reserv'd from others be not strange to me Call me to rescue and this brawnie Arme Shall quell thy Foe fence thy soule from harme Speake Love Thy voice is sweet what if thy face Be drencht with teares each teare's a several grace 6. ALl you that wish prosperity and peace To crowne our contract with a long encrease Of future joyes O shield my simple Love From those that seeke her ruine and remov The base Opposers of her best designes Destroy the Foxes that destroy her Vines Her Vines are fruitfull but her tender grapes Are spoil'd by Foxes clad in humane shapes The BRIDE in her owne person SONET IX WHat greater joy can bless my soule theÌ„ this That my beloved's mine and I am his Our soules are knit the world cannot untwine The joyfull union of his heart and mine In him I live in him my soule 's possest With heavenly solace and eternall rest Heaven onely knowes the blisse my soule enjoyes Fond earth 's too dull to apprehend such ioyes 2. THou sweet perfection of my full delights Till that bright Day devoted to the rites Of our solemniz'd Nuptialls shall come Come live with me make this heart thy Home 〈◊〉 me not Although my face appeare 〈◊〉 and cloudie yet my heart is cleare 〈◊〉 haste Let not the swift-foot Roe-bucke flee 〈◊〉 following Hounde so fast as thou to me 3. â— Thought my Love had taken up his rest Within the secret Cabin of my brest 〈◊〉 thought the closed curtaines did immure 〈◊〉 gentle slumbers but was too secure 〈◊〉 driven with love to the false bed I stept 〈◊〉 view his slumbring beautie as he slept 〈◊〉 he was gone yet plainely there was seene The curious dint where he had lately beene 4. â—â—patient of his absence thus bereaven Of him than whom
theft 10. O Thou the deare Inflamer of mine eyes Life of my soule and hearts eternall prize How delectable is thy love How pure How apt to ravish able to allure A frozen soule and with thy secret fire T' affect dull spirits with extreame desire How doe thy joyes though in their greatest dearth Transcend the proudest pleasures of the earth 11. THy lips my dearest spouse are the ful treasures Of sacred Poesie whose heavenly measures Ravish with joy the willing heart that heares But strike a deafenesse in rebellious eares Thy words like milke and Honie doe requite The season'd soule with profit and delight Heavens higher Palace and these lower places Of dungeon-earth are sweetned with thy graces 12. MY Love is like a Garden full of flowers Whose sunny banks choice of shady bowres Give change of pleasures pleasures wall'd about With Armed Angels to keepe Ruine out And from her brests enclosed from the ill Of looser eyes pure Chrystall drops distill The fruitfull sweetnesse of whose gentle showres Inrich her flowrs with beautie ' banks with flowrs 13. MY Love is like a Paradise beset With rarest gifts whose fruits but tender yet The world ne're tasted dainties farre more rare Than Edens tempting Apple and more faire Myrrhe Alloes Incense and the Cypresse tree Can boast no swetnesse but is breath'd from thee Dainties for taste and flowers for the smell Spring all from thee whose sweets all sweets excell BRIDE SONET XIII O Thou my deare whose sweets all sweets excell From whom my fruits receive their tast their smell How can my thriving plants refuse to grow Thus quickned with so sweet a Sun as thou How can my flowers which thy Ewers nourish With showers of living waters choose but flourish O thou the spring from whence these waters burst Did ever any taste thy streames and thurst 2. AM I a Garden May my flowers bee So highly honour'd to be smelt by thee Inspire them with thy sacred breath and then Receive from them thy borrowed breath agen Frequent thy Garden whose rare fruit invites Thy welcome presence to his choise Delights Taste where thou list and take thy full repaste Here 's that wil please thy smel thine eye thy taste BRIDEGROOME SONET XIIII THou sacred Center of my soule in whome I rest behold thy wisht-for Love is come Refresht with thy delights I have repasted Vpon thy pleasures my full soule hath tasted Thy rip'ned dainties and hath freely beene Pleas'd with those fruits that are as yet but green All you that love the honour of my Bride Come taste her Vineyards and be deifi'de BRIDE SONET XV. IT was a night a night as darke as foule As that blacke Errour that entranc'd my Soule When as my best beloved came and knockt At my dull gates too too securely lockt Vnbolt said he these churlish doores my Dove Let not false slumbers bribe thee from thy Iove Heare him that for thy gentle sake came hither Long injur'd by this nights ungentle weather 2. Heard the voice but the perfidious pleasure Of my sweet slumbers could not finde the leasure â—ope my drowsie dores my Spirit could speake â—ords faire enough but ah my flesh was weake 〈◊〉 fond excuses taught me to betray 〈◊〉 sacred vowes to a secure delay â—â—â—â—dious slumbers how have you the might 〈◊〉 blinde true pleasures with a false delight 3. WHen as my Love with oft repeated knocks Could not availe shaking his dewy locks â—â—â—ly displeas'd he could no longer bide 〈◊〉 slight neglect but went away denyde 〈◊〉 sooner gone but my dull soule discern'd 〈◊〉 drowzie error my griev'd Spirit yearn'd 〈◊〉 finde him out these seiled eyes that slept 〈◊〉 soundly fast awak'd much faster wept 4. THus rais'd and rouz'd from my deceitfull rest â—op'd my doores where my departed Guest 〈◊〉 beene I thrust the churlish Portals from me That so deny'de my dearest Bridegroome to me 〈◊〉 when I smelt of my returned hand 〈◊〉 soule was rapt my powers all did stand â—â—azed at the sweetnesse they did finde Which my neglected Love had left behinde 5. I Op'd my doore my Myrrheâ— distilling doore But ah my Guest was gone had given me o're What curious pen what Artist can define A matelesse sorrow Such ah such was mine Doubts and despaire had of my life depriv'd me Had not strong hope of his returne reviv'd me I sought but he refused to appeare I call'd but he would not be heard nor heare 6. THus with the tyranny of griefe distraught I rang'd a round no place I left unsought No care unask'd The watch-men of the City Wounded my soule without remorse of pity To virgin teares They taught my feet to stray Whose steps were apt enough to lose their way With taunts scornes they checkt me and derided And call'd me Whore because I walkt unguided 7. YOu hallowed Virgins you whose tender hearts Ere felt th' impression of Loves secret darts I charge you all by the deare faith you owe To Virgin purenesse and your vestall vowe Commend me to my Love if ere you meet him O tell him that his love-sick spouse doth greet him O let him know I languish with desire Tâ— enjoy that heart that sets this heart on fire VIRGINS SONET XVI O Thou the fairest flowre of mortall birth If such a beautie may be borne of earth â—â—gell or Virgin which or both in one â—â—gell by beauty Virgin by thy moane â—â—y who is He that may deserve these teares â—hese precious drops Who is 't can stop his eares 〈◊〉 these faire lips Speake Lady speake at large â—ho is 't For whom giv'st thou so strict a charge BRIDE SONET XVII MY Love is the perfection of delight Roses and Doves are not so red so white â—â—patern'd beautie summon'd every grace 〈◊〉 the composure of so sweet a face 〈◊〉 body is a Heaven for in his brest â—he perfect Essence of a God doth rest â—he brighter eye of Heaven did never shine â—â—an another glorie so divine 2. HIs Head is farre more glorious to behold Than fruitfull Ophyres oft refined gold T is the rich Magazen of secret treasure â—hence Graces spring in unconsined measure 〈◊〉 curl'd and dagling Tresses doe proclame Nâ—zarite on whom ne're Razor came Whose Raven-blacke colour gives a curious relish To that which beauty did so much imbellish 3. LIke to the eyes of Doves are his faire eyes Wherein sterne Iustice mixt with mercy lies His eyes are simple yet Majesticall In motion nimble and yet chaste withall Flaming like fier and yet burne they not Vnblemisht undistained with a spot Blazing with precious beames and to behold Like two rich Diamonds in a frame of gold 4. HIs cheeks are like two fruitfull beds ore-grown With Aromaticke flowers newly blowne Whose odours beauty please the smell the sight And doubling pleasures double the delight His lips are like a chrystall spring
from whence Flow sweetned streames of sacred Eloquence Whose drops into the eare distill'd doe give Life to the dead true joyes to them that live 5. HIs haÌ„ds are deckt with rings of gold the rings With costly Iewels fitting none but Kings Which of themselves though glorious yet receive More glorie from those fingers than they give His brests like Ivorie circled round about With veines like Saphyres winding in and out Whose beautie is though darkened from the eye Full of divine and secret Majestie 6. HIs legs like purest Marble strong and white Of curious shape though quicke unapt for flight His Feet as gold that 's oft refined are Like his upright proceedings pure and faire His Port is Princely and his Stature tall And like the Cedar stout yet sweet withall O who would not repose his life his blisse â—pon a Base so faire so firme as this 7 HIs mouth but stay what need my lips be lavish In choice of words when one alone wil ravish 〈◊〉 shall in briefe my ruder tongue discover The speaking Image of my absent Lover Then let the curious hand of Art refine The race of Vertues morall and divine From whence by heaven let there extracted be â— perfect Quintessence even such is He. VIRGINS SONET XVIII THrice fairer than the fairest whose sad teares And smiling words have charm'd our eyes our eares Say whither is this prize of beauty gone More faire than kinde to let thee weepe alone Thy tempting lips have whet our dull desire And till we see him we are all on fire Wee 'll finde him out if thou wilt be our guide The next way to the Bridegroome is the Bride BRIDE SONET XIX IF errour lead not my dull thoughts amisse My Genius tells me where my true Love is He 's busie labâ—ring on his flowry banks Inspiring sweetnesse and receiving thanks Watring those plants whose tender roots are dry And pruning such whose Crests aspire too high Transplanting grafting reaping fruits from some And covering others that are newly come 2. WHat if the frailty of my feebler part Lockt up the Portalls of my drowsie heart He knowes the weaknesse of the flesh incumbers Th' unwilling spirit with sense-bereaving slumbers My hopes assure me in despight of this That my Beloved's mine and I am his My hopes are firme which time shall ne're remove That he is mine by faith I his by love BRIDEGROOME SONET XX. THy timely griefe my teares-baptized Love CoÌ„pels mine eares to heare thy tears to move Thy blubber'd beauty to mine eye appeares More bright than 't was Such is the strength of teares â—eautie Terror meeting in thine eye Have made thy face the Throne of Majestie Those awfull beames the proudest heart will move To love for feare untill it feare for love 2. REpresse those flames that furnace from thine eye They ravish with too bright a Tyrannie Thy fires are too-too fierce O turne them from me They pierce my soule with their rayes o'recome me Thy curious * Tresses dangle all unbound â—ith unaffected order to the ground How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 3. THy Ivory Teeth in whitenesse doe out-goe The downe of Swans or Winters driven snowe Whose even proportions lively represent Th' harmonious Musicke of unite consent Whose perfect whitenesse Time could never blot Nor age the envious Worme of Ruine rot How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 4 THy Temples are the Temples of chaste love Where beauty sacrific'd her milke-white Dove Vpon whose Azure pathes are alwaies found The heaven-borne Graces dauncing in a round Thy maiden Blushes gently doe proclame A shame of guilt but not a guilt of shame How orient is thy beâ—â—ty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 5. YOu you brave spirits whose imperiall hand Enforces what your lookes cannot command Bring forth your pamper'd Queenes the lustfull prize And curious wrecks of your imperious eyes Surround the Circle of the earth and levie The fairest Virgins in Loves fairest bevie Then take from each to make one perfit grace Yet would my Love out-shine that borrow'd face 6. I Thou art she corrivalld with no other Thou glorious Daughter of thy glorious Mother The new lerusalem whose virgin birth Shall deifie the Virgins of the earth The Virgins of the earth have seene thy beautie And stood amaz'd and in a prostrate duty Have sued to kisse thy hand making thine eyes Their Lamps to light them til the Bridegroom rise 7. HArke how the virgins hallow'd with thy fire And wonder-smitten with thy beames admire Who who is this say they whose cheekes resemble â—â—â—ora's blush whose eye heavens lights dissemble Whose face is brighter than the silent Lampe That lights the earth to breathe her nightly damp Vpon whose brow sits dreadfull Majestie The frowne whereof commands a victorie 8 FAire Bride why was thy troubled soule dejected When I was absent was my faith suspected Which I so firmely plighted Couldst thou thinke My love could shake or such a vow could shrinke I did but walke among my tender Plants To smell their odours and supply their wants To see my Stockes so lately grifted sprout Or if my vines began to burgen out 9. THough gone was I my heart was in thy brest Although to thee perchaÌ„ce an unknowne guest 'T was that that gaue such wings to thy desire T' enjoy thy love and set thy soule on fire But my returne was quicke and with a minde More nimble yet more constant than the winde I came and as the winged shaft doth flie With undiscerned speed even so did I. 10. REturne O then returne thou child of Peace To thy first joyes O let thy teares surcease Returne thee to thy Love let not the night With flatt'ring slumbers tempt thy true delight Returne thee to my bosome let my brest Be still thy Tent Take there eternall rest Returne O thou in whose enchanted eye Are darts enough to make an army flye 11. FAire Daughter of the highest King how sweet Are th' unaffected graces of thy Feet From every step true Majestie doth spring Fitting the Daughter of so high a King Thy Wast is circled with a Virgin Zone Imbellisht round with many a precious Stone â—â—erein thy curious Workeman did fulfill 〈◊〉 utmost glory of his diviner skill 12. THy Navell where thy holy Embrion doth Receive sweet nourishment and heavenly growth â—â—ke a Chrystal spring whose fresh supply â—â—living waters Sunne nor Drought can dry 〈◊〉 fruitfull Wombe is like a winnow'd heape 〈◊〉 purest graine which heaveÌ„s blest hand did reap â—â—th Lillies fenc'd True Embleme of rare treasure Those graine denotes increase whose Lillies pleasure 13. THy dainty Brests are like faire twins both swelling In equall Majestie in hue
heart My glowing heart to these imperious fires No earthly sorrow but at length expires But these my Tyrant-torments doe extend To infinites nor having ease nor end Loe I the Pris'ner of the highest God Inthâ—ailed to the vengeance of his Rod Lie bound in fetters that I cannot flie Nor yet endure his deadly stroakes nor die My joyes are turn'd to sorrows backt with feares And I poore I lie pickled up in teares ELEG 14. O! How unsufferable is the waight Of sinne How miserable is their state The silence of whose secret sinne conceales The smart till Iustice to Revenge appeales How ponderous are my crimes whose ample scroul Weighs downe the pillars of my broken Soule Their sowre masqu'd with sweetnes overswai'd me And with their smiling kisses they betrai'd me Betraid me to my Foes and what is worse Betraid me to my selfe and heavens curse Betraid my soule to an eternall griefe Devoid of hope for e're to finde reliefe ELEG 15. PErplext with change of woes where ere I turne My fainting eyes they finde fresh cause to mourne My griefes move like the Planets which appeare Chang'd from their places coÌ„stant to their sphaere Behold the earth-confounding arme of Heaven Hath cow'd my valiant Captaines and hath driven Their scattered forces up and downe the street Like worried sheepe afraid of all they meet My younger men the seede of propagation Exile hath driven from my divided Nation My tender Virgins have not scap'd their rage Which neither had respect to youth nor age ELEG 16. QVicke change of torments equall to those crimes Which past unthought-of in my prosp'rous times From hence proceed my griefes ah me from hence My Spring-tyde sorrowes have their influence For these my soulâ— dissolves my eyes lament Spending chose teares whose store wil ne're be speÌ„t For these my fainting spirits droepe and melt In anguish such as never Mortall felt Within the selfe-same flames I freeze and frie I roare for helpe and yet no helpe is nigh My sons are lost whose fortunes would relieve me And onely such triumph that hourely grieve me ELEG 17. REnt from the glory of her lost renowne Sion laments Her lips her lips o'reflowne With floods of teares she prompteth how to breake New languages instructs her tongue to speake Elegious Dialects She lowly bends Her dusty knees upon the earth extends Her brawnlesse armes to them whose ruthlesse eyes Are red with laughing at her miseries Naked she lies deform'd and circumvented With troopes of feares unpitied unlamented A loathsome draine for filth despis'd forlorne The scorne of Nations and the childe of scorne ELEG 18. SOwre wages issue from the sweets of sin Heavens hand is just this trecherous heart hath bin The author of my woes 'T is I alone My sorrowes reap what my foule sins have sowne Often they cry'de to heaven e're heaven reply'd And vengeance ne're had come had they ne'r cride All you that passe vouchsafe your gracious eares To heare these cries your eyes to view these tears They are no heat-drops of an angry heart Or childish passions of an idle smart But they are Rivers springing from an eye Whose streams no joy can stop no griefe draw drie ELEG 19. TVrne where I list new cause of woe presents My poore distracted soule with new laments Where shall I turne shall I implore my friends Ah summer friendship with the Summer ends In vaine to them my groanes in vaine my teares For harvest friends can finde no winter eares Or shall I call my sacred Priests for aid Alas my pined Priests are all betraid To Death and Famine in the streets they cryed For bread whilst they sought for bread they died Vengeance could never strike so hard a blow As when she sends an unlamented woe ELEG 20. VOuchsafe great God to turne thy tender eyes On me poore wretch Oh let my midnight cries That never cease if never stopt with teares Procure audience from thy gracious eares Behold thy creature made by change of griefe The barest wretch that ever beg'd reliefe See see my soule is tortur'd on thy rack My bowels tremble and my heart-strings crack Abroad the sword with open ruine frights me At home the secret hand of Famine smites me Strange fires of griefe How is my soule opprest That findes abroad no peace at home no rest ELEG 21. WHere where art thou O sacred Lambe of peace That promis'd to the heavie laden ease Thee thee alone my often bended knee Invokes that haue no other helpe but thee My foes amazed at my hoarse complaining Scoffe at my oft repeated cries disdaining To lend their prosp'rous hand they hisse and smile Taking a pleasure to behold my spoile Their hands delight to bruize my broken reeds And still persist to prick that heart that bleeds But there 's a Day if Prophets can divine Shal scourge their sins as they have scourged mine ELEG 22. YOu noy some weeds that lift your crests so high When better plants for want of moysture die Thinke you to flourish ever and unspide To shoot the flowers of your fruitlesse pride If plants be cropt because their fruits are small Thinke you to thrive that beare no fruit at all Looke downe great God from their places teare These weeds that suck the juice shold make us bear Vndew'd with showers let them see no Sun But feel those frosts that thy poor plaÌ„ts have done O clense thy Garden that the world may know Wee are the seeds that thy right hand did sow Threnodia II. ELEG 1. ALas my torments my distracted feares Have no commerce with reasonable teares How hath Heavens absence darkned the renowne Of Sions glory with one angry frowne How hath th' Almighty clouded those bright beams And chang'd her beauties streamers into streames Sion the glory of whose refulgent Fame Gave earnest of an everlasting name Is now become an indigested Masse And ruine is where that brave glory was How hath heaven strucke her earth-admired name From th' height of honour to the depth of shame ELEG 2. BEautie nor strength of building could entice Or force revenge from her just enterprise Mercy hath stopt her eares and Iustice hath Powr'd out full vialls of her kindled wrath Impatient of delay she hath strucke downe The pride of Sion kickt off Iuda's Crowne Her streets unpeopled and disperst her powres And with the ground hath levell'd her high towres Her priests are slaine her captiv'd Princes are Vnransom'd pris'ners Slaves her men of warre Nothing remaines of all her wonted glory But sad memorialls of her tragicke story ELEG 3. COnfused horror and confounding shame Have blur'd the beauty and renowned name Of righteous Israel Israels fruitfull land Entail'd by Heaven with the usurping hand Of uncontroled Gentiles is laid waste And with the spoile so ruine is defac't The angry mouth of Iustice blowes the fires Of hasty vengeance whose quicke flame aspires With fury to that place which heaven did sever For Iacob and his holy seed for ever No part no
secret angle of the Land Which beares no marke of heavens enraged hand ELEG 4. â—Arts thrild from heaveÌ„ transfix my bleeding heart And fill my soule with everlasting smart Whose festring wound no fortune can recure Th' Almighty strikes but seldome but strikes sure His finowy arme hath drawne his steely bow And sent his forked shafts to overthrow My pined Princes and to ruinate The weakened Pillars of my wounded State His hand hath scourg'd my deare delights acquired My soule of all wherein my soule delighted I am the mirrour of unmasked sin To see her dearely purchas'd pleasures in ELEG 5. EVen as the Pilot whose sharpe Keele divides Th' encountring waves of the Cicilian Tides Tost on the listâ— of death striving to scape The danger of deepe mouth'd Chaâ—ybdis rape Reâ—uts on Scyâ—â—a with a forc'd careere And wrecks upon a lesse suspected feare Even so poore I contriving to withstand My Foemans fall into th' Almighties hand So I the childe of ruine to avoid Lesse dangers by a greater am destroy'd How necessary Ah! How sharp's his end That neither hath his God nor man to friend ELEG 6. FOrgotten Sion hangs her drooping head Vpon her fainting brest Her soule is fed With endlesse griefe whose torments had depriv'd her Long since of life had not new paines reviv'd her Sion is like a Garden whose defence Being broke is left to the rude violence Of wastefull Swine full of neglected waste Nor having flowre for smell nor herbe for taste Heaven takes no pleasure in her holy Feasts Her idle Sabbaths or burnt fat of beasts Both State and Temple are despoil'd and fleec't Of all their beauty without Prince or Priest ELEG 7. GLory that once did Heavens bright Temple fill Is now departed from that sacred Hill See how the emptie Altar stands disguis'd Abus'd by Gentiles and by heaven despis'd That place wherein the holy One hath taken So sweet delight lies loathed and forsaken That sacred place wherein the precious Name Of great Iebovah was preserv'd the same Is turn'd a Den for Theeves an open stage For vice to act on a defiled Cage Of uncleane birds a house of priviledge For sin and uncontrolled sacriledge ELEG 8. HEaven hath decreed his angry brest doth boile His time 's expired and he 's arm'd to spoile His secret Will adjourn'd the righteous doome Of threatned Sion and her time is come His hand is arm'd with thunder from his eyes A flame more quicke than sulphrous Etna flyes Sion must fall That hand which hath begun Can never rest till the full worke be done Her walls are sunke her Towres are overthrowne Heaven will not leave a stone upon a stone Hence hence the flouds of roaring Iudah rise Hence Sion fills the Cisternes of her eyes ELEG 9. IOy is departed from the holy Gates Of deare Ierusalem and peace retraits From wasted Sion her high walls that were An armed proofe against the brunt of feare Are shrunke for shame if not withdrawne for pity To see the ruine of so brave a City Her Kings and out-law'd Princes live constraind Hourely to heare the name of Heaven profan'd Manners and Lawes the life of government Are sent into eternall banishment Her Prophets cease to preach they vow unheard They howle to heaven but heaven gives no regard ELEG 10. KIng Priest and People all alike are clad In weeds of Sack-cloth taken from the sad Wardrobe of sorrow prostrate on the earth They close their lips their lips estrang'd to mirth Silent they sit for dearth of speech affords A sharper Accent for true griefe than words The Father wants a Son the Son a Mother The Bride her Groom th the brother waÌ„ts a brother Some Famine Exile some and some the sword Hath slaine All want when Sion wants her Lord How art thou all in all There 's nothing scant Great God with thee without thee all things want ELEG 11. â—Aunch forth my soule into a sea of teares Whose ballanc'd bulke no other Pilot steares Then raging sorrow whose uncertaine hand Wanting her Compasse strikes on every sand Driven with a storme of sighes she seekes the Haven Of rest but like to Noahs wandring Raven She scowres the Maine and as a Sea-lost Rover She roames but can no land of peace discover Mine eyes are faint with teares teares have no end The more are spent the more remaine to spend What Marble ah what Adamantine eye Can looke on Sions ruine and not cry ELEG 12. MY tongue the tongues of Angels are too faint T' expresse the causes of my just complaint See how the pale-fac'd sucklings roare for food And from their milkles mothers brests draw blood Children surcease their serious toyes and plead With trickling teares Ah mothers give us bread Such goodly Barnes and not one graine of corne Why did the sword escape's Why were we borne To be devour'd and pin'd with famine save us With quicke reliefe or take the lives you gave us They cryde for bread that scarce had breath to cry And wanting meanes to live found meanes to dye ELEG 13. NEver ah never yet did vengeance brand A State with deeper ruine than thy Land Deare Sion how could mischiefe beene more keene Or strucke thy glory with a sharper spleene Whereto Ierusalem to what shall I Compare this thy unequall'd misery Turne backe to ages past Search deepe Records Theirs are thine cannot be exprest in words Would would to God my lives cheape price might be Esteem'd of value but to ransome thee Would I could cure thy griefe but who is able To heale that wound that is immedicable ELEG 14. O Sion had thy prosperous soule endur'd Thy Prophets scourge thy joyes had bin secur'd But thou ah thou hast lent thine itching eare To such as claw'd and onely such wouldst heare Thy Prophets 'nointed with unhallow'd oyle Rubd where they should have launcht and did beguile Thy abused faith their fawning lips did cry Peace peace alas when there was no peace nigh They quilted silken curtaines for thy crimes Belyde thy God and onely pleas'd the times Deare Sion oh hadst thou but had the skill To stop thine eares thou hadst beene Sion still ELEG 15. â—Eople that travell through thy wasted Land Gaze on thy ruines and amazed stand They shake their spleenfull heads disdaine deride The sudden downefall of so faire a pride They clap their joyfull hands fill their tongues With hisses ballads and with Lyrick songs Her torments give their empty lips new matter And with their scornfull fingers point they at her Is this say they that place whose wonted fame Made troubled earth to tremble at her name Is this that State are these those goodly Stations Is this that Mistris and that Queene of Nations ELEG 16. QVencht are the dying Embers of compassion For empty sorrow findes no lamentation When as thy Harvest flourisht with full eares Thy sleightest griefe brought in a tide of teares But now alas thy Crop consum'd and gon Thou art but food for beasts to trample on
Thy servants glory in thy ruine those That were thy private friends are publike foes Thus thus say they we spit our rankrous spleene And gâ—ash our teeth upon the worlds faire Queene Thrice welcome this this long expected day That crownes our conquest with so sweet a prey ELEG 17. REbellious Iudah Could thy flattring crimes Secure thee from the dangers of the times Or did thy summer Prophets ere foresay These evills or warn'd thee of a winters day Did not those sweet-lipt Oracles beguile Thy wanton eares with newes of Wine and Oile But heaven is just what his deepe counsell wild His prophets told and Iustice hath fulfill'd He hath destroy'd no secret place so voyd No Fort so sure that Heaven hath not destroy'd Thou land of Iudah How 's thy sacred throne Become a stage for Heathen to trample on ELEG 18. SEe see th' accursed Gentiles doe inherit The Land of promise where heavens Sacred Spirit Built Temples for his everlasting Name There there th'usurping Pagans doe proclaime Their idle Idols unto whom they gave That stolen honor which heavnes Lord should have Winke Sion O let not those eyes be stain'd With heavens dishonour see not heaven profan'd Close close thine eyes or if they needs must be Open like flood-gates to let water flee Yet let the violence of their flowing streames Obscure thine open eyes and mask their beames ELEG 19. TRust not thy eye-lids lest a flattering sleepe Bribe them to rest and they forget to weepe Powre out thy heart thy heart dissolv'd in teares Weepe forth thy plaints in the Almighties eares Oh let thy cries thy cries to heaven addrest Disturbe the silence of thy midnight rest Prefer the sad petitions of thy soule To heaven ne're close thy lips till heaven condole Confounded Sion and her wounded weale That God that smit oh move that God to heale Oh let thy tongue ne're cease to call thine eye To weepe thy pensive heart ne're cease to cry ELEG 20. VOuchsafe oh thou eternall Lord of pitty To looke on Sion and thy dearest City Confus'd Ierusalem for thy DAVIâ—S sake And for that promise which thy selfe did make To halting Isr'el loe thy hand hath forc'd Mothers whom law lesse Famine hath divorc'd From deare affection to devoure the bloomes And buds that burgeond froÌ„ their painful wombs Thy sacred Priests and Prophets that while-ere Did hourely whisper in thy neighbouring eare Are falne before the sacrilegious sword Even where even whilst they did unfold thy word ELEG 21. WOunded and wasted by th' eternall hand Of heaven I grovell on the ground my land Is turn'd a Golgotha before mine eye Vnsepulchred my murthred people lye My dead lye rudely scattred on the stones My Cawsies all are pav'd with dead mens bones The fierce Destroyer doth alike forbeare The maidens trembling and the Matrons teare Th' imperiall sword spares neither Foole nor Wise The old mans pleading nor the Infants cries Vengeance is deafe and blinde and she respects Nor Young nor Old nor Wise nor Foole nor Sex ELEG 22. YEares heavie laden with their months retire Months gone their date of numbred daies expire The daies full houred to their period tend And howers chac'd with light-foot Minutes end Yet my undated evills no time will minish Though yeares months though daies and howers finish Feares flocke about me as invited guests Before the Portalls at proclamed feasts Where heaveÌ„ hath breathd that man that state must fall Heaven wants no thunder-bolts to strike withall I am the subject of that angry Breath My sonnes are slaine and I am mark'd for death Threnodia III. ELEG 1. ALL you whose unprepared lips did tast The tedious Cup of sharp affliction cast Your wondring eyes on me that have drunke up Those dregs whereof you onely kist the Cup I am the man 'gainst whom th' Eternall hath Discharg'd the lowder volley of his wrath I am the man on whom the brow of night Hath scowl'd unworthy to behold the light I am the man in whom th' Almighty showeâ— The dire example of unpattern'd woes I am that Pris'ner ransome cannot free I am that man and I am onely he ELEG 2. BOndage hath forc'd my servile necke to faile Beneath her load Afflictions nimble flayle Hath thrasht my soule upon a floore of stones And quasht the marrow of my broken bones Th' assembled powres of Heaven enrag'd are eager To root me out Heavens souldiers doe beleager My worried soule my soule unapt for fleeing That yeelds o'reburthen'd with her tedious being Th' Almighties hand hath clouded all my night And clad my soule with a perpetuall light A night of torments and eternall sorrow Like that of Death that never findes a morrow ELEG 3. CHain'd to the brazen pillars of my woes I strive in vaine No mortall hand can loose What heaven hath bound my soule is walld about That hope can nor get in nor feare get out When ere my wav'ring hopes to heaven addresse The feeble voice of my extreame distresse He stops his tyred eares without regard Of Suit or Suitor leaves my prayers unheard Before my faint and stumbling feet he layes Blockes to disturbe my best advised wayes I seeke my peace but seeke my peace in vaine For every way 's a Trap each path's a Traine ELEG 4. DIsturbed Lyons are appeas'd with blood And ravenous Beares are milde not wanting food But heaven ah heaven will not implored be Lyons and Beares are not so fierce as Hee His direfull vengeance which no meane confines Hath crost the thriving of my best designes His hand hath spoild me that erewhile advanc't me Brought in my foes possest my friends against me His Bow is bent his forked Rovers flie Like darted haile-stones from the darkned skie Shot from a hand that cannot erre they be Transfixed in no other marke but me ELEG 5. EXil'd from Heaven I wander to and fro And seeke for streames as Stags new stricken doe And like a wandring Hart I flee the Hounds With Arrowes deeply fixed in my wounds My deadly Hunters with a winged pace Pricke forwards and pursue their weary chace They whoope they hollow me deride flout me That flee from death yet carrie death about me Excesse of torments hath my soule deceiv'd Of all her joyes of all her powres bereiv'd O curious griefe that hast my soule brim-fill'd With thousand deaths and yet my soule not kill'd ELEG 6. FOllow'd with troopes of feares I flie in vaine For change of places breeds new change of paine The base condition of my low estate My exalted Foes disdaine and wonder at Turne where I list these these my wretched eyes They finde no objects but new miseries My soule accustom'd to so long encrease Of paines forgets that she had ever peace Thus thus perplext thus with my griefes distracted What shall I do Heavens powers are compacted To worke my ' eternall ruine To what friend Shal I make mone when heaven conspires my end ELEG 7. GReat GOD what helpe ah me what hope is left
To him that of thy prescence is bereft Absented from thy favour what remaines But sense and sad remembrance of my paines Yet hath affliction op'ned my dull eare And taught me what in weale I ne're could heare Her scourge hath tutor'd me with sharpe corrections And swag'd the swelling of my proud affections Till now I slumbred in a prosp'rous dreame From wheÌ„ce awak'd my griefes are more extreame Hopes newly quickned have my soule assur'd That griefes discover'd are one halfe recur'd ELEG 8. HAd not the milder hand of mercy broke The furious violence of that fatall stroke Offended Iustice strucke we had beene quite Lost in the shadowes of eternall night Thy mercy Lord is like the morning Sunne Whose beames undoe what sable night hath done Or like a streame the current of whose course Restrain'd a while runs with a swifter force Oh let me swelter in those sacred beames And after bathe me in these silver streames To thee alone my sorrowes shall appeale Hath earth a wound too hard for heaven to heale ELEG 9. IN thee deare Lord my pensive soule respires Thou art the fulnesse of my choice desires Thou art that sacred Spring whose waters burst In streames to him that seekes with holy thirst Thrice happy man thrice happy thirst to bring The fainting soule to so so sweet a spring Thrice happy he whose well resolved brest Expects no other aide no other rest Thrice happie he whose downie age had bin Reclaim'd by scourges from the prime of sin And early season'd with the taste of Truth Remembers his Creator in his youth ELEG 10. KNowledge concomitates Heavens painefull rod â— eaches the soule to know her selfe her GOD Vnseiles the eye of Faith presents a morrow Of joy within the â—ablest night of sorrow Th' afflicted soule abounds in barest need Sucks purest honie from the foulest weed Detests that good which pamp'red reason likes Welcomes the stroke kisses the hand that strikes In roughest Tides his well-prepared brest Vntoucht with danger findes aâ— haven of rest Hath all in all when most of all bereaven In earth a hell in hell he findes a Heaven ELEG 11. LAbour perfected with the evening ends The lampe of heaven his course fulfill'd descends Can workes of nature seeke and finde a rest And shall the torments of a troubled brest Impos'd by Natures all-commanding GOD Ne're know an end ne're finde a period Deare soule despaire not whet thy dull beliefe With hope heavens mercy will o'recome thy griefe From thee not him proceeds thy punishment Hee 's slow to wrath and speedy to relent Thou burnst like gold consumest not like fuell O wrong not Heaven to thinke that Heaven is cruell ELEG 12. MOuntaines shall move the Sun his circling course Shall stop Tridented Neptuae shall divorce Th' embracing floods from their beloved Iles Ere heaven forgets his servant and recoyles From his eternall vow Those those that bruise His broken reeds or secretly abuse The doubtfull Title of a rightfull Cause Or with false bribes adulterat the Lawes That should be chaste these these th' Almightie hath Branded for subjects of a future wrath Oh may the just man know th' Eternall hastens His plagues for trialls loves the child he chastens ELEG 13. NO mortall power nor supernall might Not Lucifer nor no infernall spright Nor all together joyn'd in one commission Can thinke or act without divine permission Man wils Heaven breathes successe or not upon it What good what evill befals but heaven hath done it Vpon his right hand Health and Honors stand And flaming Scourges on the other hand Since then the States of good or evill depend Vpon his will fond mortall thou attend Vpon his Wisdome Why should living Dust Complaine on Heaven because that Heaven is just ELEG 14. O Let the ballance of our even pois'd hearts Weigh our afflictions with our just deserts And ease our heavie scale Double the graines We take from sinne Heaven taketh from our pains Oh let thy lowly-bended eyes not feare Th' Almighties frownes nor husband one poore teare Be prodigall in sighes and let thy â—ongue Thy tongue estrang'd to heaven cry all night long My soule thou leav'st what thy Creator did Will thee to doe hast done what he forbid This this hath made so great a strangenesse bee If not divorce betwixt thy GOD and thee ELEG 15. PRepar'd to vengeance and resolv'd to spoile Thy hand just GOD hath taken in thy toile Our wounded soules That arme which hath forgot His wonted mercy kills and spareth not Our crimes have set a barre betwixt thy Grace And us thou hast eclipst thy glorious face Hast stopt thy gracious eare lest prayers enforce done Thy tender Heart to pity and remorse See see great GOD what thy deare hand hath We lie like drosse when all the gold is gone Contemn'd despis'd and like to Atomes flye Before the Sunne the scorne of every eye ELEG 16. QVotidian fevers of reproach and shame Have chill'd our Honor and renowned Name We are become the by-word and the scorne Of Heaven and Earth of heaven earth forlorne Our captiv'd soules are compast round about Within with troopes of feares of foes without Without within distrest and in conclusion We are the haplesse children of confusion Oh how mine eyes the rivers of mine eyes O'reflow these barren lips that can devise No Dialect that can expresse or borrow Sufficient Metaphors to shew my sorrow ELEG 17. RIvers of marish teares have over-flowne My blubber'd cheeks my tongue can find no Tone So sharpe as silence to bewaile that woe Whose flowing Tides an Ebbe could never know Weepe on mine eyes mine eyes shall never cease Speake on my Tongue forget to hold thy peace Cease not thy teares close not thy lips so long Til heaven shal wipe thine eles heare thy tongue What heart of brasse what Adamantine brest Can know the torments of my soule and rest What stupid braine ah me what marble eye Can see these these my ruines and not cry ELEG 18. SO hath the Fowler with his slye deceits Beguil'd the harmelesse bird so with false baits The treach'rous Angler strikes his nibbling prey Even so my Foes my guiltlesse soule betray So have my fierce pursuers with close wiles Inthralled me and gloried in my spoiles Where undermining plots could not prevaile There mischiefe did with strength of arme assaile Thus in afflictions troubled billowes tost I live but t is a life worse had than lost Thus thus o'rewhelm'd my secret soule doth cry I am destroy'd and there 's no helper nigh ELEG 19. THou great Creator whose diviner breath Preserves thy Creature joyst not in his death Looke downe from thy eternall Throne that art The onely Rocke of a despairing heart Looke downe from Heaven O thou whose tender eare Once heard the trickling of one single teare How art thou now estranged from his cry That sends forth Rivers from his fruitfull eye How often hast thou with a gentle arme Rais'd me from death and bid
And froÌ„ their ragged wounds they suck forth blood The father dies and leaves his pined Coarse T' inrich his Heire with meat The hungry Nurse Broyles her starv'd suckling on the hastie coales Devoures one halfe and hides the rest in holes O Tyrant Famine that compell'st the Mother To kill one hungry Childe to feed another ELEG 11. LAment O sad Ierusalem lament O weepe if all thy teares be yet unspent Weepe wasted Iudâ—h let no drop be kept Vnshed let not one teare be left unwept For angry heaven hath nothing left undone To bring thy ruines to perfection No curse no plague the fierce Almighty hath Kept backe to summe the totall of his wrath Thy Citie burnes thy Sion is dispoyld Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maides defil'd Famine at home the Sword abroad destroyes thee Thou cry'st to heav'n heav'n his â—are denies thee ELEG 12. MAy thy dull senses O unhappy Nation Possest with nothing now but desolation Collect their scatter'd forces and behold Thy novell fortunes ballanc'd with the old Couldst thou ô could thy prosp'rous heart coÌ„ceive That mortall powre or art of State could reive Thy ' illustrious Empire of her sacred glory And make her ruines the Threnâ—dian story Of these sad times and ages yet to be Envie could pine but never hope to see Thy buildings crusht and all that glory ended Which Man so fortifyde and Heav'n defended ELEG 13. NE're had the splendor of thy bright renowne Beene thus extinguisht ludah Thy fast Crowne Had ne're beene spurn'd from thy Imperiall brow Plenty had nurs'd thy soule thy peacefull plough Had fill'd thy fruitfull Quarters with encrease Hadst thou but knowne thy selfe and loved peace But thou hast broke that sacred truce concluded Betwixt thy God and thee vainly deluded Thy selfe with thine own strength with deadly feud Thy furious Priests and Prophets have pursude The mourning Saints of Sion and did sâ—ay All such as were more just more pure then they ELEG 14. O How the Priests of Sion whose pure light Should shine to such as grope in Errors night And blaze like Lampâ— before the darkned eye Of Ignorance to raise up those that lie In dull despaire and guide those feet that strey Ay me How blinde how darke how dull are they Fierce rage fury drives them through the street And like to mad men stabbe at all they meet They weare the purple Livery of Death And live themselves by drawing others breath Say wasted Sion could Revenge behold So foule an acted Scene as this and hold ELEG 15. PRophets and sacred Priests whose tongues whilere Did often whisper in th'Eternalls eare Disclos'd his Oracles found ready passage Twixt God and Man to carry heavens Embassage Are now the subjects of deserved scorne Of God forsaken and of man forlorne Accursed Gentiles are asham'd to know What Sions Priests are not asham'd to doe They see and blush and blushing flee away Fearing to touch things so defil'd as they They hate the filth of their abomination And chace them forth from their new conquer'd nation ELEG 16. QVite banisht from the joyes of earth and smiles Of heaven and deeply buried in her spoiles Poore Iudah lies unpitied disrespected Exil'd the World of God of Man rejected Like blasted eares among the fruitfull wheat She roames disperst and hath no certaine seat Her servile neck 's subjected to the yoake Of bondage open to th' impartiall stroake Of conquering Gentiles whose afflicting hand Smites every nooke of her disguised Land Of Youth respectlesse nor regarding Yeeres Nor Sex nor Tribe like scourging Prince Peers ELEG 17. REnt and deposed from Imperiall state â—y heavens high hand on heaven we must await To him that struck our sorrowes must appeale Where heaven hath smitâ— no hand of man can heale In vaine our wounds expected mans reliefe For disappointed hopes renew a griefe Aegypt opprest us in our fathers loynes What hope 's in Aegypt Nay if Aegypt joynes Her force with Iudah our united powres Could nere prevaile 'gainst such a foe as our's Aegypt that once did feele heavens scourge for grieving His flock would now refinde it for reliving ELEG 18. SO the quick-sented Beagles in a view O're hill and dale the fleeing Chase pursue As swift-foot Death and Ruine follow me That flees afraid yet knowes not where to flee Flee to the fields There with the sword I meet And like a Watch Death stands in every street No covert hides from death no Shade no Cells So darke wherein not Death and Horror dwells Our dayes are numbred and our number 's done The empty Houre-glasse of our glorie 's run Our sins are summ'd and so extreame 's the score That heauen could not doe lesse nor hell do more ELEG 19. TO what a downfall are our fortunes come Subjected to the suffrance of a doome Whose lingring torments Hell could not conspire More sharp than which hell needs no other fire How nimble are our Foemen to betray Our soules Eagles are not so swift as they Where shall we flee Or where shall sorrow finde A place for harbour Ah what prosp'rous winde Will lend a gale whose bounty ne're shall cease Till we be landed on the I le of peace My foes more fierce than empty Lions are For hungry Lions woo'd with teares will spare ELEG 20. VSurping Gentiles rudely have engrost Into their hands those fortunes we have lost Devoure the fruits that purer hands did plant Are plump and pampred with that bread we want And what is worse than death a Tyrant treads Vpon our Throne Pagans adorne their heads With our lost crowns their powers have dis-jointed The Members of our State and Heavens Anointed Their hands have crusht ravisht from his throne And made a Slave for Slaves to tread upon Needs must that flock be scattred and accurst where wolves have dar'd to seize the Shepherd first ELEG 21. WAxe fat with laughing Edom with glad eies Behold the fulnesse of our miseries Triumph thou Type of Antichrist and feed Thy soule with joy to see thy brothers â—eed Ruin'd and rent and rooted from the earth Make haste and solace thee with early mirth But there 's a time shall teachâ—thee how to weepe As many teares as I thy lips as deepe Shall drinke in sorrowes Cup as mine have done Till then cheere up thy spirits and laugh on Offended Iustice often strikes by turnes Edom â—eware for thy next neighbour burnes ELEG 22. YE drooping sonnes of Sion O arise And shut the flood-gates of your flowing eyes Surcease your sorrowes and your joyes attend For heaven hath spoke it and your griefes â—â—al end Beleeve it Sion seeke no curious signe And wait heav'ns pleasure as heav'n waited thine And thou triumphing Edâ—m that dost lye In beds of Roses thou whose prosp'rous eye Did smile to see the Gates of Sion fall Shalt be subjected to the selfe-fame thrall Sion that weepes shall smile and Edoms eye That smiles so fast as fast shall shortly cry The Prophet Ieremie his
Prayer for the distressed people of Ierusalem and Sion GReat God before whose all-discerning eye The secret corners of mans heart doe lye As open as his actions which no Clowd Of secresie can shade no shade can shrowd Behold the Teares O hearken to the Cryes Of thy poore Sion Wipe her weeping eyes Binde up her bleeding wounds ô thou that art The best Chirurgeon for a broken heart See how the barb'rous Gentiles have intruded Into the Land of promise and excluded Those rightfull Owners from their just possessions That wander now full laden with oppressions Our Fathers ah their savage hands have slaine Whose deaths our Widdow-mothers weepe in vaine Our Springs whose Christall plenty once disburst Their bounteous favours to quench every thirst Our liberall Woods whose palsie-shaken tops To every stranger bow'd their yeelding lops Are sold to us that have no price to pay But sweat and toyle the sorrowes of the day Oppressors trample on our servile necks We never cease to groane nor they to vexe Famine and Dearth haue taught our hands t' extend To Ashur and our feeble knees to bend To churlish Pharoe Want of bread compells Thy servants to begge Almes of Infidels Our wretched Fathers sinn'd and yet they sleepe In peace and have left us their sonnes to weepe We we extracted from their sinfull loynes Are guilty of their sinnes Their Ossa joynes To our high Pelion Ah! their crimes doe stand More firmly ' entailed to us than our Land We are the slaves of servants and the scorne Of slaves of all forsaken and forlorne Hunger hath forc'd us to acquire our food With deepest danger of our dearest blood Our skins are wrinckled and the fruitlesse ploughs Of want have fallow'd up our barren browes Within that Sion which thy hands did build Our Wives were ravisht and our Maids defil'd Our savage Foe extends his barb'rous rage To all not sparing Sexe nor Youth nor Age They hang our Princes on the shamefull trees Of death respect no Persons no Degrees Our Elders are despised whose gray hayres Are but the Index of their doting yeares Our flowring youth are forced to fulfill Their painfull taskes in the laborious Mill Our children faint beneath their loads and cry Opprest with burdens under which they lie Sages are banisht foâ—â— Iudiciall Courts And youth takes no delight in youthfull sports Our joyes are gone and promise no returning Our pleasure 's turnd to paine our mirth to mourning Our hand hath lost her sword Our Head his Crowne Our Church her glory our Weale her high renowne Lord we have sinn'd and these our sins have brought This world of griefe O purchase dearely bought From hence our sorrowes and from hence our feares Proceed for this our eyes are blinde with teares But that aye that which my poore heart doth count Her sharpest torture is thy sacred Mount Sacred Mount Sion Sion that divine Seat of thy glory 's raz'd her tender Vine Laden with swelling Clusters is destroy'd And Foxes now what once thy Lambs enjoy'd But thou O thou eternall God whose Throne Is permanent whose glory 's ever one Vnapt for Change abiding still the same Though Earth consume Heaven dissolve her frame Why dost thou ah why dost thou thus absent Thy glorious face Oh wherefore hast thou rent Thy Mercy from us O! when wilt thou be Atton'd to them that have no trust but Thee Restore us Lord and let our soules possesse Our wonted peace O let thy Hand redresse Our wasted fortunes Let thine Eye behold Thy scattered Flock and drive them to their Fold Canst thou reject that people which thy Hand Hath chose and planted in the promis'd Land O thou the Spring of mercy wilt thou send No ease to our Afflictions no end The end AN ALPHABET OF ELEGIES VPON The much and truly lamented death of that famous for Learning Pietie and true Friendship Doctor AILMER A great favourer and fast friend to the Muses and late Arch-deacon of LONDON Imprinted in his Heart that ever loves his Memorie Written by FRA QVARLES Cum privilegio Amoris Doloris Dignum laude virum Musa vetat morâ— READERS GIve me leave to performe a necessary duty which my affection owes to the blesâ—ed memory of that reverend Prelate my much â—onoured Friend Doctor Ailmer Hee was one whose life and death made as full and perfect a Story of worth and goodnesse as earth would suffer and whose pregnant vertues deserve as faithfull a Register as earth can keepe In whose happy remembrance I have here â—â—usted these Elegies to Time and your favours Had he bin a Lampe to light me alone my priâ—ate griefes had beene sufficient but being a Sunne whose beames reflected on all all have 〈◊〉 interest in his memory To which end I recommend these memorialls to the publike in testimony of my undissembled affection and true pietie that I owe to so great an example of Vertue and Learning F. Q. FVNERALL ELEGIES ELEG 1. All you whose eies would learn to weepe draw neere And heare what none without full teares and hear Come marble eyes as marble as your hearts I 'le teach you how to weepe a teare in parts And you false eyes that never yet let fall A teare in earnest come and now ye shall Send forth salt fountaines of the truest griefe That ever sought to Language for reliefe But you you tender eyes that cannot beare An Elegie wept forth without a teare I warne you hence or at the most passe by Lest while you stay you soone dissolve and dye ELEG 2. BVt stay sad Genius How doe griefes transport Thy exil'd senses Is there no resort To forkt Parnassus sacred Mount No word No thought of Helicon No Muse implor'd I did invoke but there was none reply'd The nine were silent since Mâ—â—aenas dy'd They have forsaken their old Spring 't is said They haunt a new one which their tears have made Should I molest them with my losse 'T is knowne They finde enough to re-lament their owne I crave no ayde no Deity to infuse New matter Ah True sorrow needs no Muse. ELEG 3. CAll back bright Phoebus your sky-wandring steeds Your day is tedious and our sorrow needs No Sun When our sad soules have lost their light Why should our eyes not finde perpetuall night Goe to the nether world and let your rayes Shine there Bestow on them our share of dayes But say not Why lest when report shall show Such cause of griefe they fall a grieving too And pray the absence of your restlesse wayne Which then must be return'd on us againe Deare Phoebus graunt my suit if thou denie 't My teares shall blinde me and so make a night ELEG 4. DEath art thou growne so nice can nothing please Thy curious palate but such Cates as these Or hath thy ravenous stomach beene o'represt With common diet at thy last great feast 1625 Or hast thou fed so neere that there is none Now left but delicates to feed upon Or was this dish so
Grave is quiet from the feare Of Tyrants Tyrants are appeased there The grinded Prisner heares not there the noyse Nor harder threatnings of th'Oppressors voyce â—oth rich and poore are equal'd in the Grave Servants no Lords and Lords no Servants have What needs there light to him that 's comfortlesse Or life to such as languish in distresse 〈◊〉 long for death which if it come by leysure They ransack for it as a hidden treasure What needs there Life to him that cannot have A Bâ—â—ne more gracious then a quiet Grave Or else to him whom God hath wall'd about That would but cannot finde a passage out When I but taste my sighes returne my food The flowing of my teares have rais'd a flood When my estate was prosperous I did feare Leâ—t by some heedlesse slip or want of care I might be brought to Misery and alas What I did then so feare is come to passe But though secure my soule did never slumber Yet doe my Woes exceed both Waight and Number Meditat. 6. SO poore a thing is Man No Flesh and blood Deserves the stile of Absolutely Good The righteous man sins oft whose power 's such To sin the least sins at the least too much The man whose Faith disdain'd his Isaacks life Dissembled once a Sister for a Wife The righteous Lot being drunk did make at once His Daughters both halfe sisters to their sonnes The royall Favorite of heaven stood Not guiltlesse of Adultery and Blood And he whose hands did build the Temple doth Bow downe his lustfull knees to Ashtaroth The sinfull Woman was accus'd but none Was found that could begin to fling a stone From mudled Springs can Christall water come In some things all men sin in all things some Even as the soyle which Aprils gentle showers Have fild with sweetnesse and inricht with flowers Reares up her suckling plants still shooting forth The tender blossomes of her timely Birth But if deny'd the beames of cheerly May They hang their withered heads and fade away So man assisted by th' Almighties Hand His Faith doth flourish and securely stand But left a while forsooke as in a shade It â—â—nguishes and nipt with sin doth fade No Gold is pure from Drosse though oft refin'd The strongest Cedar's shaken with the wind The fairest Rose hath no prerogative Against the fretting Canker-worme The Hive No honey yeeldâ— unblended with the wax The finest Linnen hath both soyle and bracks The best of men have sins None lives secure In Nature nothing's perfect nothing pure Lord since I needs must sin yet grant that I Forge no advantage by infirmity Since that my Vesture cannot want a staine Assist me lest the tincture be in Graine To thee my great Redeemer doe I flye It is thy Death alone can change my Dye Teares mingled with the Blood can scower so That Scarlet sinnes shall turne as white as Snow THE ARGVMENT Rash Eliphaz reproves and rates And falsly censures Iob Relates His Vision shewes him the event Of wicked men Bids him repent Sect. 7. THen Eliphas his pounded tongue repliev'd And said shold I conteÌ„d thou wold'st be grievd Yet what man can refraine but he must breake His angry silence having heard thee speake O sudden change many hast thou directed And strengthned those whose minds have bin dejected Thy sacred Thewes and sweet Instructions did Helpe those were falling rais'd up such as slid But now it is thy case thy soule is vext And canst not help thy selfe thy selfe perplext Thou lov'st thy God but basely for thy profit Fear'st him in further expectation of it Iudge then Did Record ever round thine eare That God forsooke the heart that was sincere But often have we seene that such as plow Lewdnesse and mischiefe reape the same they sow So have proud Tyrants from their thrones bin cast With all their off-spring by th' Almighties Blast And they whose hands have bin imbrew'd in blood Have with their Issue dyed for want of Food A Vision lately appear'd before my sight In depth of darknesse and the dead of night Vnwonted feare usurpt me round about My trembling bones were sore from head to foot Forthwith a Spirit glanc'd before mine eyes My browes did sweat my moistned haire did rise The face I knew not but a while it staid And in the depth of silence thus it said Is man more just more pure then his Creator Amongst his Angels more upright by nature Then man he hath found Weaknesse how much more Shall he expect in him that 's walled ore With mortall flesh and blood founded and floor'd With Dust and with the Wormes to be devour'd They rise securely with the Morning Sunne And unregarded dye ere Day be done Their glory passes with them as a breath They die like Fooles before they think of death Rage then and see who will approve thy rage What Saint will give thy railing Patronage Anger destroyes the Foole and he that hath A wrathfull heart is slaine with his owne wrath Yet have I seene that Fooles have oft beene able To boast with Babel but have falne with Babel Their sons despairing roare without reliefe In open ruine on the Rocks of Griefe Their harvest though but small the hungry eate And robbers seize their wealth thogh ne'r so great But wretched man were thy Condition mine I 'de not despaire as thou dost nor repine But offer up the broken Sacrifice Of a sad soule before his angry eyes Whose workes are Miracles of admiration He mounts the meeke amidst their Desolation Confounds the worldly wise that blindfold they Grope all in darknesse at the noone of day But guards the humble from reproach of wrong And stops the current of the crafty Tongue Thrice happy is the man his hands correct Beware lest Fury force thee to reject Th' Almighties Tryall He that made thy wound In Iustice can in Mercy make it sound Feare not though multiply'd afflictions shall Besiege thee He at length will rid them all In Famine he shall feed in Warre defend thee Shield thee from slander in griefes attend thee The Beasts shall strike with thee eternall Peace The Stones shall not disturbe thy fields Encrease Thy House shall thrive replenisht with Content Which thou shalt rule in prosp'rous Government The number of thy Of-spring shall abound Like Summers Grasse upon a fruitfull Ground Like timely Corne well ripened in her Eares Thou shalt depart thy life strucke full of yeeres All this Experience teâ—ls Then Iob advise Thou hast taught many now thy selfe be wise Meditat. 7. THe perfect Modell of true Friendship 's this A rare affection of the soule which is Begun with ripened judgement doth persever With simple Wisedome concludes with Never 'T is pure in substance as refined Gold That buyeth all things but is never sold It is a Coyne and most men walke without it True Love 's the Stamp Iâ—hovah's writ about it It rusts unus'd but using makes it brighter 'Gainst Heav'n high treason 't is to make
it lighter 'T is a Gold Chain links soule and soule together In perfect Vnity tyes God to either Affliction is the touch whereby we prove Whether 't be Gold or gilt with fained Love The wisest Moralist that ever div'd Into the depth of Natures bowels striv'd With th' Augur of Experience to bore Mens hearts so farre till he had found the Ore Of Friendship but despairing of his end My friends said he there is no perfect Friend Friendship 's like Musicke two strings tun'd alike Will both stirre though but onely one you strike It is the quintessence of all perfection Extracted into one A sweet connexion Of all the Vertues Morall and Divine Abstracted into one It is a Mine Whose nature is not rich unlesse in making The state of others wealthy by partaking It bloomes and blossomes both in Sun and shade Doth like the Bay in winter never fade It loveth all and yet suspecteth none Is provident yet seeketh not her owne 'T is rare it selfe yet maketh all things common And is judicious yet it judgeth no man The noble Theban being asked which Of three propounded he suppos'd most rich In vertues sacred treasure thus reply'd Till they be dead that doubt cannot be tryde It is no wisemâ—ns part to weigh a Friend Without the glosse and goodnesse of his End For Life without the death considered can Afford but halfe a Story of the Man 'T is not my friends affliction that shall make Me either Wonder Censure or Forsake Iudgement belongs to Fooles enough that I Find he 's afflicted not enquier why It is the hand of Heaven that selfe-same sorrow Grieves him to day may make me grone to morrow Heaven be my comfort In my highest griefe I will not trust to Mans but Thy reliefe THE ARGVMENT Iob counts his sorrowes and from thence Excuses his impatience Describes the shortnesse of Mans Time And makes confession of his Crime Sect. 8. BVt wretched Iob sigh't forth these words said Ah me that my Impatience were weigh'd With all my Sorrowes by an equall hand They would be found more pondrous then the sand That lies upon the new-forsaken shore My griefes want utterance haue stopt their dore And woÌ„der not heav'ns shafts have struck me dead And God hath heapt all mischiefes on my head Will Asses bray when they have grasse to eate Or lowes the Oxe when as hee wants no meat Can palates finde a relish in distast Or can the whites of Egges well please the tast My vexed soule is dayly fed with such Corruptions as my hands disdaine to touch Alas that Heav'n would heare my hearts request And strike me dead that I may find some rest What hopes have I to see my end of griefe And to what end should I prolong my life Why should not I wish Death My strength alas Is it like Marble or my flesh like Brasse What power have I to mitigate my paine If e're I had that power now is vaine My friends are like the Rivers that are dry In heat of Summer when necessity Requireth water They amazed stand To see my griefe but lend no helping hand Friends beg I succour from you Craved I Your Goods to ransome my Captivity Shew me my faults and wherein I did wrong My Patience and I will hold my tongue The force of reasonable words may moove But what can Rage or Lunacie reproove Rebuke you then my words to have it thought My speech is franticke with my griefe distraught You take a pleasure in your friends distresse That is more wretched than the fatherlesse Behold these sores Be judg'd by your owne eyes If these be counterfeited miseries Ballance my words and you shall finde me free From these foule crimes wherewith ye branded me And that my speech was not distain'd with sin Onely the language sorrow treated in Is not mans day prefixt which when expir'd Sleepes â—e not quiet as a servant hir'd A servants labour doth at length surcease His Day of travell findes a Night of peace But wretched I with woes am still oprest My mid-day torments see no Even of Rest My nights ordain'd for sleep are fill'd with griefe I looke in vaine for the next dayes reliefe With dust and wormes my flesh is hid my sorrowes Have plow'd my skin and filth lyes in her furrows My dayes of ioy are in a moment gone And hopelesse of returning spent and done Remember Lord my life is but a puffe I but a man that 's misery enough And when pale death hath once seald up my sight I ne're shall see the pleasures of the light The eye of Man shall not discover me No nor thine Lord for I shall cease to be When mortalls dye they passe like clouds before The Sun and backe returne they never more T' his earthly house he ne're shall come agin And then shall be as if he ne're had bin Therfore my tongue shal speak while it hath breath Prompted with griefe and with the pangs of death Am I not weake and faint what needst thou stretch Thy direfull hand upon so poore a wretch When as I thinke that night shall stop the streames Of my distress thou frightst me then with dreams So that my soule doth rather choose to dye Than be involved in such misery My life 's a burthen and will end O grieve No longer him that would no longer live Ah! what is Man thaâ— thou should'st raise him so High at the first then sinke him downe so low What 's man thy glory 's great enough without him Why dost thou thus disturb thy mind about him Lord I have sinn'd Great Helper of Mankind I am but Dust and Ashes I have sinn'd Against theâ— as a marke why hast thou fixt me How have I trespast that thou thus afflict'st mo Why rather didst thou not remoue my sin And salve the sorrowes that I raved in For thou hast heapt such vengeance on my head That when thou seekst me thou wilt find me dead Meditat. 8. TH'Egyptians amidst their sollemne Feasts Vsed to welcome and present their Guests With the sad sight of Mans Anatomy Serv'd in with this loud Motto All must dye Fooles often goe about when as they may Take better vantage of a neerer way Looke well into your bosomes doe not flatter Your knowne infirmities Behold what matter Your flesh was made of Man cast back thine eye Vpon the weaknesse of thine Infancye See how thy lips hang on thy mothers Brest Bawling for helpe more helplesse then a Beast Liv'st thou to childhood then behold what toies Doe mocke the sense how shallow are thy joyes Com'st thou to downy yeares see how deceits Gull thee with golden fruit and with false baits Slily beguile the prime of thy affection Art thou attain'd at length to full perfection Of ripened yeares Ambition hath now sent Thee on her frothy errand Discontent Payes thee thy wages Doe thy grizly haires Begin to cast account of many cares Vpon thy head The sacred lust of gold Now fits
so foule Not to encrease the Tribe of Dan one soule LoÌ„g had she doubtles stroven with heaveÌ„ by prair's Made strong with teares sighs hopes despaires No doubt had often tortur'd her desire Vpon a Rack compos'd of frost and fire But Heaven was pleas'd to turne his deafned eares Against those prai'rs made stroÌ„g with sighs tears She often pray'd but pray'rs could not obtaine Alas she pray'd she wept she sigh'd in vaine She pray'd no doubt but pray'rs could finde no roome They prov'd alas as barren as her wombe Vpon a time when her unanswer'd pray'r Had now given just occasion of despaiâ—e Even when her bed-rid faith was grown so fraile That very Hope grew hartlesse to prevaile Appear'd an Angel to her In his face Terrour and sweetnesse labour'd for the place Sometimes his Sunbright eies would shine so fierce As if their pointed beames would even pierce Her soule and strike th' amaz'd beholder dead Sometimes their glory would disperse and spread More easie flames and like the Starre that stood O're Bethlem promise and portend some good Mixt was his bright aspect as if his breath Had equall errands both of life and death Glory and Mildnesse seemed to contend In his faire eyes so long till in the end In glorious mildnesse and in milder glory He thus salutes her with this pleasing story Woman Heaven greets thee well Rise up and feare 〈◊〉 Forbeare thy faithlesse tremblings I appeare not Clad in the vestments of consuming fire Cheare up I have no warrant to enquire Into thy sinnes I have no Vyals here Nor dreadfull Thunderbolts to make thee feare I have no plagues t' inflict nor is my breath Charg'd with destruction 〈◊〉 my hand with death No no cheare up I come not to destroy I come to bring thee tidings of great joy Rowze up thy duâ— beliefeâ— for I apâ—eare To exercise thy Faith and not thy Feare The Gâ—iae and great Creator of all things Chiefe Lord of Lords and supreme King of Kings To whom an Host of men are but a swarme Of â—urm'â—ing Guats whose high prevailing arme Can crush ten thousand worldâ— and at one blow Can strike the earth to nothing and ore-throw The Lofts of Heaven He that hath the Keyes Of 〈◊〉 to shut and ope them when he please He that can all things that he will this day Is pleas'd to take thy long reproach away Behold thy womb 's inlarg'd and thy desires Shall finde successe Before long time expires Thou shâ—lâ— conceive Ere twise five months be runne Be thou the joyfull mother of a sonne But see thy wary palate doe forbeare The juice of the bewitching Grape Beware Leâ—â— thy defiers tempt thy lips to wine Which must be faithfull strangers to the Vine Strong drinke thou must not taste and all such meate The Law proclaimes uncleane refraine to eate And when the fruit of thy restored wombe Sâ—â—ll see the light take heed no Rasor come 〈◊〉 his fruitfull head for from his birth 〈◊〉 as the wombe entrusts him on the earth The child shall be a Nazarite to God 〈◊〉 whose appointment be shall prove a Rod To scourge the proud Philistians and recall Pâ—re suffring Israel from their slavish thrall Meditat. 2. HOw impudent is Nature to account Those acts her own that doe so farre surmoâ—â—â— Her easie reach How purblinde are those eyes Of stupid mortals that have power to rise No higher then her lawes who takes upon her The worke and robs the Author of his honour Seest thou the fruitfull Wombe How every yeare It moves thy Cradle to thy slender cheare Invites another Ghest and makes thee Father To a new Sonne who now perchance hadst rather Bring up the old esteeming propagation A thanklesse worke of Supererogation Perchance the formall Mid-wife seemes to thee Lesse welcome now than she was wont to bee Thou standst amaz'd to heare such needlesse Ioy And car'st as little for it as the Boy That 's newly borne into the world Nay worse Perchance thou grumblest counting it a curse Vnto thy faint estate which is not able T' encrease the bounty of thy slender Table Poore miserable man what ere thou bee I suffer for thy crooked thoughts not thee Thou tak'st thy children to be gifts of nature Their wit their flowring beauty comely stature Their perfect health their dainty disposition Their vertues and their easie acquisition Of curious Arts their strengths attain'd perfection You attribute to that benigne complexion Wherewith your Goddesse Nature hath endow'd Their well-disposed Organs and are proud And here your Goddesse leaves you to deplore That such admir'd perfections should be poore Advance thine eyes no lesse then wilfull blinde And with thine eyes advance thy drooping minde Correct thy thoughts Let not thy wondring eye Adore the servant when the Master 's by Looke on the God of Nature From him come These underprized blessings of the wombe He makes thee rich in childreÌ„ wheÌ„ his store Crowns thee with wealth why mak'st thou thy self poor He opes the womb why then should'st thou repine They are his children mortall and not thine We are but Keepers And the more he lends To our tuition he the more commends Our faithfull trust It is not every one Deserves that honour to command his Son She counts it as a fortune that 's allow'd To nurse a Prince What nurse would not be proud Of such a Fortune And shall we repine Great God to foster any Babe of thine But 't is the Charge we feare our stock 's but small If heaven with Children send us wherewithall To stop their craving stomacks then we care not Great God! How hast thou crackt thy credit that we dare Trust thee for bread How is 't we dare not venture To keepe thy Babes unlesse thou please to enter In bond for paiment Art thou growne so poore To leave thy famisht Infants at our doore And not allow them food Canst thou supply The empty Ravens and let thy children die Send me that stint thy wisedome shall thinke fie Thy pleasure is my will and I submit Make me deserve that honour thou hast lent To my fraile trust and I will rest content THE ARGVMENTâ— Thâ— wife â— Manoah attended with fearfull Hope and hâ—pefull Feare The joyfull tydings recommended to her amazed Husbands care Sect. 2. THus when the great Embassadour of Heaven Had done that sacred service which was given And trusted to his faithfull charge he spred His ayre dividing pinions and fled But now th' affrighted woman apprehends The strangenesse of the Message recommends Both it and him that did it to her feares The newes was welcome to her gratefull eares But what the newesman was did so encreaâ—e Her doubts that her strange hopes could finde no peace For when her hopes would build a Tower of joy O then her feares would shake it and destroy The maine foundation what her hopes in vaine Did raise her feares would ruinate againe One while she thought It was an Angel sent And then
The Speakers CHRIST the Bridegroome the CHVRCH the Bride The end to invite you all to the wedding Farewell AN EPITHALME TO THE BRIDEGROOME HOsanna to the Highest Ioy betide The heavenly Bridegroome and his holy Bride Let Heaven above be fill'd with songs Let Earth triumph below For ever silent be those tongues That can be silent now You Rocks and Stones I charge you all to breake Your flinty silence if men cease to speake You that professe that sacred Art Or now or never show it Plead not your Muse is out of heart Here 's that creates a Poet. Be ravisht Earth to see this contract driven 'Twixt sinfull Man and reconciled Heaven Dismount you Quire of Angels come With Men your joyes divide Heaven never shew'd so sweet a Groome Nor Earth so faire a Bride SIONS SONETS BRIDE SONET I. 1. O That the bounty of those lips divine Wold seale their favors on these lips of mine That by those welcome kisses I might see The mutuall love betwixt my Love and me For truer blisse no worldly joy allowes Than sacred Kisses from so sweet a Spouse With which no earthly pleasures may compare Rich Wines are not so delicate as they 'r 2. NOr Myrrh nor Cassia nor the choice perfumeâ— Of unctious Narde or Aromaticke fumes Of hot Arabia doe enrich the Aire With more delicious sweetnesse than the faire Reports that crowne the merits of thy Name With heavenly Lawrels of eternall fame Which makes the Virgins fix their eyes upon thee And all that view thee are enamour'd one thee 3. O Let the beauty of thy Suâ—-like face Inflame my soule and let thy glory chace Disloyall thoughts Let noâ— the World allure My chaste desires from a Spouse so pure But when as time shall place me on thy Throne My feares shall cease and interrupt by none I shall transcend the stile of Transitory And full of Glory still be fill'd with glory 4. BVt you my curious and too nice allyes That view my fortunes with too narrow eyes You say my face is black and foule 't is true I 'm beauteous to my Love though black to you My censure stands not upon your esteeme He sees me as I am you as I seeme You see the Clouds but he discernes the Skie Know 't is my mask that lookes so black not I. 5. WHat if Afflictions doe dis-imbellish My naturall glory and deny the rellish Of my adjourned beauty yet disdaine not Her by whose necessary losse you gaine not I waâ— inforc'd to swelter in the Sun 〈◊〉 keepe a strangers Vine left mine alone â—eft mine owne and kept a strangers Vine 〈◊〉 fault was mine but was not onely mine 6. O Thou whose love I prize above my life More worthy farre t' enjoy a fairer wife Tell me to what cool shade dost thou resort â—here graze thy Sheepe where doe thy lambs disport 〈◊〉 from the scorching of this sowltry weather 〈◊〉 tell thy Love and let thy Love come thither 〈◊〉 gentle Shepheard fits it thee to cherish â—hy private Flocks and let thy true Love perish BRIDEGROOME SONET II. ILlustrious Bride more radiant and more bright Then th' eye of Noon thrice fairer then the light Thou dearest off-spring of my dying blood â—ad treasure of my soule why hast thou stood â—arching so long in those ambitious beames Come come coole thee in these silver streams â—nshade thy face cast back those golden Locks And I will make thee Mistris of my Flocks 2. O Thou the Center of my choyce desires In whom I rest in whom my soule respires Thou art the flowre of beauty and I prize thee Above the world how e're the world despise thee The blinde imagines all things black by kinde Thou art as beautifull as they are blinde And as the fairest troopes of Pharoes steeds Exceed the rest so Thou the rest exceeds 3. THy cheek the garden where fresh beauty plaÌ„â—â— Her choicest flowers no adorning wants There wants no relish of diviner grace To summe compleatnesse in so sweet a face Thy Neck without a blemish without blot Than pearl's more orient cleare from stain or spot Thy Gemms and Iewels full of curious art Imply the sacred treasures of thy heart 4. THe Sun-bright glory of thy resounding fame Addes glory to the glory of thy Name The more 's thy honor Love the more thou striv'st To honour me thou gainest what thou giv'st My Father whom our Contract hath made thine Will give thee large endowments of divine 〈◊〉 everlasting treasure Thus by me Thou shalt be rich that am thus rich in thee BRIDE SONET III. OH how my soule is ravisht with the joyes That spring like fountains froÌ„ my tru-loves voice 〈◊〉 cordiall are his lips How sweet his tongue Each word he breathes is a melodious song 〈◊〉 absent ah how is my glory dim 〈◊〉 have no beauty not deriv'd from Him What e're I have from Him alone I have And he takes pleasure in those gifts he gave 2. AS fragrant Myrâ—h within the bosome hid Sents more delicious than before it did And yet receives no sweetnesse from that brest That proves the sweeter for so sweet a guest Even so the favour of my dearest Spouse Thus priz'd and placed in my heart endowes My ardent soule with sweetnesse and inspires With heavenly ravishment my rapt desires 3. WHo ever smelt the breath of morning flowres New sweet'nd with the dash of twilight shoures Of pounded Amber or the flowring Thyme Or purple violets in their proudest prime Or swelling Clusters from the Cypresse tree So sweet's my Love I farre more sweet is He So faire so sweet that Heavens bright eye is dim And flowers have no sent compar'd with Him BRIDEGROOME SONET IIII. O Thou the joyes of my sufficed heart The more thou think'st me fair the more thou art Looke in the Christall Mirrours of mine eyes And view thy beauty there thy beauty lyes See there th'unmated glory of thy Face Well mixt with Spirit and divinest grace The eyes of Doves are not so faire as thine O how those eyes inflame these eyes of mine BRIDE SONET V. MOst radiant and refulgent Lampe of light Whose midday beauty yet ne're found a night 'T is thou 't is onely thou art faire from Thee Reflect those rayes that have enlightned mee And as bright Cinthia's borrow'd beames doe shine From Titan's glory so doe I from thine So dayly flourishes our fresh delight In dayly giving and receiving light 2. NOr does thy glory shine to me alone What place wherein thy glory hath not shone But O how fragrant with rich odour smells That sacred House where thou my true Love dwells 〈◊〉 is it strange How can those places bee 〈◊〉 fill'd with sweetnesse if possest with thee 〈◊〉 heart 's a Heaven for thou art in that heart 〈◊〉 presence makes a Heaven where e're thou art BRIDEGROOME SONET VI. THou