sithe and mows us down When we are apt to say for ought we know As yet we have an age of dayes to grow Our life 's a flower that groweth in the field A garden-flower is but a fading thing Though it hath hedges banks and walls to shield It self from cropping long 't is e'r the spring Doth bring it forth three quarters of a yeare Are gone before its beauty doth appear And when it shineth in its fairest pride One hand or other will be sure to pluck it But let 's suppose all snatching fingers ty'd And grant withall that never Bee doth suck it To blemish it a jote yet will the breath Of winter blow the fairest flower to death 'T is long before we get us very farre Into the world for after generation There is a time when lifelesse lumps we are And have not bodies of a humane fashion Such as we have both life and motion want And when we live we live but like a plant A while we do but grow then like a beast We have our senses next indeed we live The life of him that lives to be a feast For despicable worms The womb doth give No passage to us yet we are like corn Sown lately sit to be but are not born When born 't is long before we can procure Our legs or understandings to assist us And then 't is long before we grow mature And all this while if sudden Death hath mist us Yet in the hoary winter of our age Our part is ended and we quit the stage Lord what is man Lord rather what am I I cannot tell my self unlesse thou teach me From thee came Know thy self down through the skie To mortalls here Thy servant doth beseech thee To make me know though it be to my shame How vanishing how weak and frail I am Meditation 2. VVHat would I do if I were sure to die Within this houre sure heartily repent My sinfull couch should never more be drie But drown'd in tears sad grones my heart should rent And my sorrow still increase With repenting till I die That once reconciled I Might be found of God in peace Then presently I 'll set about it for My time 's uncertain and for ought I know God may not leave my soul a minute more To animate my body here below Deep-fetch'd sighs and godly sorrow Shall possesse my heart to day 'T is a foolish sinne to say That I will repent to morrow What if I die before just as the tree Doth fall it lies When I am in the grave I cannot grieve for sinne nor can I be Converted unto God nor pardon crave Had I breath and grace to crave it Yet God's time of mercie 's gone 'T is giv'n in this life alone In the next I cannot have it What would I leave undone if ghastly Death Stood at my elbow sure I would not wallow In those pollutions that reigne here beneath No lewd and wicked courses would I follow I should tremble at a thought Of uncleannesse if I were Sure that dreadfull time were near When I must to earth be brought Why should I sinne at all for in the act Of my next sinne a sudden Death may catch me A town secure is much the sooner sack'd What know I but God setteth Death to watch me That when any lust hath press'd me For his service that I may Down to hell without delay Death may presently arrest me If we did well still should we fear to meet Death in those places where we use to sinne And as we enter think we heare the feet Of Death behind us coming softly in We should fear when sinnes delight us When we swallow any crime Lest that very point of time Justice should send Death to smite us I know whatever is on this side hell Is mercie all that we were not sent thither When we sinn'd last is mercie What befell Zimri and Cozbi as they lay together Phinehas zealous spear did thrust Both to death and bored holes To let out those guilty souls Which were melted into lust Help me O Lord to do and leave undone What thou command'st for sudden Death prepare me That at what time soe'r my glasse is run Thy holy Angels may to heav'n bear me Give thy servant grace that I May so fear the face of sinne As a serpents lest that in Th' unrepented act I die Meditation 3. DOth Death come suddenly so much the better If I am readie and do daily die So much the sooner 't will my soul unfetter T' enjoy the best degree of libertie And if Death will send me where I shall evermore remain I will never care how vain Or how frail my life is here My life is like the wind but when this puff Is pass'd I shall eternally enjoy A place in heav'n where all is calm enough Where never blast is felt that brings annoy Where is everlasting ease Not a storm nor tempest there Nor a jote of trouble where All is quietnesse and peace My life is like a vapour but assoon As this thin mist this vapour is dispersed My day shall be an undeclining noon Whose glorious brightnesse cannot be rehearsed Which will shew me for so clear And so shining is that place God immortall face to face Whom I saw but darkly here My life is water spilt and cast away Upon the ground but after it is shod In stead thereof I shall a stream injoy As Crystall clear which from the throne of God And the Lamb of God proceedeth Water 't is of life and lasteth Ever which a soul that tasteth Once no more refreshing needeth My life is like a shadow that doth vanish But whensoe'r this shadow 's vanish'd quite Substantiall gâ—…es will my soul replenish And solid joyes will crown it with delight The worlds are but fading joyes Shadows we all purchasâ— here Never untill Death appear Have we true and reall joyes My life 's a flower but when it withers here It is transplanted into paradise Where all things planted flourish all the year Where Boreas never breaths a cake of ice With sweet air the place is blest There is an eternall spring Thither Lord thy servant bring Here my homely Muse doth rest Nor another flight will make Till she see how this will take FINIS
praise His word 's my rule my warrant 's his command Thus am I fitted Death cut off my dayes If thou wilt within this houre I will thank thee for thy pain For to me to die is gain I 'll not fear a jote thy power What canst thou do that justly may affright me Though with thee in the dark I dwell a space Yet canst thou not eternally benight me Thou art my passage to a glorious place Where shall not be any night My rais'd ashes shall enjoy There an everlasting day And an uneclipsed light I fear not death because of putrefaction Nor if I might would willingly decline it My body gains by 't 't is the graves best action God as a founder melts it to refine it Death cannot annihilate And in despite of the grave Yet I shall a body have Fairer and in better state Gods second work excells his first by ods Our second birth life Adam to repair Our bodies is a second work of Gods To make them better then at first they were Glorious immortall sound Nimble beautifull and so Splendid that from top to toe Not a blemish may be found What begger weeps when 's rags are thrown away To put on better clothes Who is 't will grieve To pull a rotten house down that it may Be fairer built Why should we not receive Death with both hands when he comes To pull off those rags that hide us To unhouse us and provide us Richer clothes and better homes The griping pangs of Death do not affright My heart at all I have deserved mo And if upon no other terms I might Enjoy my God I to my God would go Through hells self although a throng Of an hundred thousand juries Of the black'st infernall Furies Claw'd me as I went along Nor can those inward terrours make me quake Which Death-beds often on the soul do bring I have no Death-bed-reck'nings for to make 'T was made while I was well and every thing Was dispatch'd before that I Nothing in the world now save Home-desiring longings have Then to do but just to die Nor doth it trouble me that Death will take me From those delights that are enjoy'd below Alas I know that none of them can make me One jote the happier man nor can bestow Any comfort Carnall gladnesse Mirth delight and jollity This worlds best felicitie All is vanity and madnesse Mere empty husks Had I as many treasures In my possession as the muddiest wretch Did ever covet and as many pleasures As from the creature fleshly men can fetch Had I this or if I were Supreme Monarch onely Lord Of what earth and sea afford Yet I would not settle here To be dissolv'd is better Death doth bring A fairer fortune then it takes away It sets us in a world where every thing Is a happinesse a full and solid joy Not to be conceiv'd before We come thither but the blisse Which exceedeth all is this That there we shall sinne no more Lord grant a copious portion of thy Spirit The more I have of that the lesse I fear What Death can do for sure I shall inherit All joy in heaven if I am holy here Nought suits with heaven but sanctitie Let my God thy Spirit and grace Fit me for that holy place And that holy companie Meditation 5. IF Death will come what do men mean to sinne With so much greedinesse me thinks I see What a sad case the godlesse world is in How fast asleep in her securitie Fearlessely in sinne men live As if Death would never come Or there were no day of doom When they must a reck'ning give Observe a little yonder black-mouth'd swearer How 's tongue with oathes and curses pelts the skies 'T would grieve the heart of any pious hearer But to bear witnesse of his blasphemies He darts wounds at God on high Puts on cursing as his clothes And doth wrap his tongue in oathes To abuse Eternity In lawlesse lust the fornicatour fries And longs to slake it 'twixt forbidden sheets Ne'r sets the sunne but his adulterous eyes Observes the twilight and his harlot meets That which follows when the night Draws its curtain o'r the air To conceal this goatish pair Modesty forbids to write And I could shew you were it worth the viewing In that room three or foure drunkards reeling In this as many more that sweat with spewing Some that have drunk away their sense and seeling Men of all sorts in their wine And their ale sit domineering Cursing railing roring swearing Under every baser signe 'T is said so vile is this big-belly'd sinne That in a day and lesse some foure or five Of lustie drunken throats will swallow in More then hath kept two families alive A whole forthnight yet made they Merrie with 't Had I my wishes Such gulls should not drink like fishes But their throats should chāge their trade The covetous man with his usurious clutches Doth catch and hold fast all the wealth he may He leans on 't as a creeple on his crutches The miser studies nothing night and day But his gain he 's like a swine Looking downward like a mole Blind and of an earthen soul Minding nothing that 's divine These and beside these other sorts of sinners In every parish you may dayly see As greedy at their sinnes as at their dinners And wallowing in all impiety Sure these miscreants do never Entertein a thought of dying Nor yet are afraid of frying In hell flames for altogether Thou God of spirits be pleas'd to aw my heart With death and judgement that when I would sinne I may remember that I must depart And whatsoe're condition I am in When I sink under Deaths hand There 's no penance in the grave Nor then can I mercy have So must I in judgement stand Meditation 6. Lord what a thief is Death it robs us quite Of all the world great men of all their honours Luxurious men of all their fond delight Rich men of all their money farms and mannours Naked did the world find us And the world will leave us so We shall carrie when we go Nothing but leave all behind us Let Death do 's worst ambitious men do climb By any sinne though it be ne're so soul Gold-thirsty misers swallow any crime That brings gain with it though it kill the soul Here for gain is over-reaching Cosening cheating lying stealing Knavish and sinister dealing All arts of the devils teaching Whilst I am well advis'd I 'll never strive T' increase my wealth if 't will increase my sinne I will be rather poore then seek to thrive By means unlawfull all 's not worth a pinne When mine eye-lids Death doth close What I sinned for must be Shak'd hands with eternally But the sinne that with me goes I 'll not wast love upon these lower things Nor on the choicest of them doting sit For when sad Death a habeas corpus brings To take the world from me and me from it '
DEATH Dis-sected OR A FORT Against MISFORTUNE IN A Cordiall compounded of many pious and profitable Meditations on Mans Mortality Digested into severall Poems by T. I. Fortiter ille facit qui miser esse potest Printed by Authority for the use of the Author To the truly worthy Mr. ANSELL BEAVMONT SIR IF in this age when Soveraignty is no symptome of Security and Majesty but a new name for Misery I may claime a pious priviledge to present you with the usefull Mirrour of Mortality I hope these pale imperfect Poems will meet the candor of your Approbation with no lesse welcome then Death when look'd for at the latter day findes in the harbour of a quiet Conscience And although you may challenge the liberty to wonder why in these Times when Witty malice Holy Ignorance and Devout Impiety are the prodigious effects of most mens industry I descant â—…he old plain-song of Mortality when you have well considered the more then ordinary seasonable necessity and from these humble Contemplations collected the eternall Profit I hope you will extend a pardon and protection to him who conceivs it a compleat dignity if honoured with the happy title of SIR Your Humblest Servant THO. JORDAN Profitable and pious thoughts of Death Part I. Of Deaths certainty IN heav'ns high Parliament an act is pass'd Subscrib'd by that eternall Three in One That each created wight must one day tast Of Deaths grim terrours They exempted none That sprang from Adam All that red-earth-strain Must to their earth again An ancient Register of burialls lies In Genesis to let us understand That whosoever is begotten dies And every sort is under Deaths command His Empire 's large Rich poore old young and all Must go when he doth call Mans life 's a book and some of them are bound Handsome and richly some but meanly clad And for their matter some of them are sound Learned and pious others are too bad For vilest sires Both have their end There 's a conclusion penn'd As well as title-page that 's infancy The matter that 's the whole course of our lives One 's Satans servant walking wickedly Another 's pious and in goodnesse thrives One 's beggerly another 's rich and brave Both drop into the grave One man a book in folio lives till age Hath made him crooked and put out his eyes His beard doth penance And death in a rage Mows down another whilst the infant cries In 's midwives lap that 's an Epitome Both wear deaths liverie God made not death Whence are we mortall then Sure Sinne 's the parent of this pale-fac'd foe Nought else did hatch it and the first of men He was Deaths grandfather And all the wo That in this or the next life we are in Is caused by our sinne Meditation 1. IF I must dye I 'll catch at every thing That may but mind me of my latest breath Deaths-heads graves knells blacks tombs all these shall bring Into my soul such usefull thoughts of death That this sable King of fears Though in chiefest of my health He behind me come by stealth Shall not catch me unawares When-e're I visit any dying friend Each sigh and scrich and every death-bed-grone Shall reade me such a lecture of mine end That I 'll suppose his case will be mine own As this poore man here doth lie Rack'd all o're with deadly pain Never like to rise again Time will come when so must I. Thus ghastly shall I look thus every part Of me shall suffer thus my lips shall shrivel My teeth shall grin and thus my drooping heart Shall smoke out sighs and grones and all the evil Which I see this man lye under What sinne earns and death doth pay I shall feel another day Sinne from torment who can sunder Thus will my mournfull friends about me come My livelesse carcase shall be stretched out I must be packing to my longest home Thus will the mourners walk the streets about Thus for me the bells will toll Thus must I bid all adieu World and wife and children too Thus must I breathe out my soul At others fun'ralls when I see a grave That grave shall mind me of mortalitie I 'll think that such a lodging I must have Thus in the pit my bones must scattered lie Here one bone and there another Here my ribs and there my scull And my mouth of earth be full I must call the worms my mother When I do look abroad methinks I see A fun'rall Sermon penn'd in every thing Each creature speaks me mortall Yonder tree Which not a quarter since the glorious spring Had most proudly cloth'd in green And was tall and young and strong Now the ax hath laid along Nothing but his stump is seen And yonder fruitfull valleys yesternight Did laugh and sing they stood so thick with corn In was the sickle and 't was cut down quite And not a sheaf will stand to morrow morn Yonder beauteous imps of May Pretty eye-delighting flowers Whose face heav'n doth wash with showers To put on their best aray I saw the fair'st the Lily and Carnation And coy Adonis particoloured sonne Subject to such a sudden alteration That in a day their sading beauty 's gone This tree this corn and this flower Or what things else vainest are To my self I do compare Who may die within this houre Meditation 2. I 'LL ne'r be proud of beauty if I must Be blemish'd when I die And if the grave Will mix my beauty with the vilest dust What profits pride Reader I 'll pardon crave Here to set you down a story Of as rare and fair a She As the Sunne did ever see Whom Death robb'd of all her glory I once saw Phoebus in his mid-day shine Triumphing like the Sovereigne of the skies Untill two brighter rayes both more divine Outblazed his and they were this Nymphs eyes Forthwith Sol curtain'd his light Looking very red for shame To be vanquish'd by this Dame And did slink out of her sight I once saw silver Cynthia nights fair Queen In her full orb dimming each lesser flame Till this Nymphs beauty-vying front was seen Outshining hers then she look'd wan for shame The man in her knew he how But to quit that giddy place She had so divine a face Would have dwelt upon her brow Once was this woman pleas'd to walk the fields Then proudly fragrant with Dame Flora's store The damask rose unto her beauty yields And was contented to be fair no more Sure I cannot say how truly Yet ' mongst many 't was a fame That the rose did blush for shame And the violet look'd most bluly Once did this woman to the temple go Where doth fair Venus marble-statue lie Cut to the life that one can hardly know But that it lives indeed When she came nigh He who then the temple kept After would be often telling She was so super-excelling That for mad the marble wept Melodious musick 's warbled by the spheres Swans sing
their Epitaphs in curious layes Once with a singing Swan a part she bears As soon 's those corall doores dismiss'd her voice The poore Swan held his peace and di'd And the spheres as men do say Dumbly move unto this day This was by a rivers side What think you now of such a glorious woman This Phoenix sure was she if any might That might be proud And yet the tongue of no man Can well expresse nor any pen can write What grim death hath done unto her Now she 's of another feature Hardly can you know the creature Stay a while and we will view her Th' almighty King that dwells above in heaven Directs to 's high Shrieve Death a certain writ Wherein a strait imperiall charge was given At 's utmost peril forthwith on sight of it To arrest that piece of beauty And to wrap her up in clay ' Gainst the last great judgement-day Death address'd him to his duty And with great care gives warrant by and by Unto his baillifs Fever Pox and Gout Phrensie Strangury Colick Squinancy Consumption Dropsie and an ugly rout Beside these for to assail her Deaths command was that they must Tie her fast in chains of dust He gave charge that none should bail her You would not think with what a furious pace These catchpoles flie to pull this creature down But Pox was nimblest she got to her face And plow'd it up This hag goes in a gown Rugged and of colour tawny Button'd o're from top to toe Skin-deep beauties deadly foe Uglier hag was never any Fain would the rest have fastned on her too But that this hag had frighted out her soul Now looks her carcase of another hue Grim ugly lothsome ghastly and as soul As did ever eye look on What 's become of that complexion Which held all hearts in subjection In a moment all is gone If we might be so bold to dig the grave Some few years hence where this good woman lies Sure we should find this beauty but a slave To pallid putresaction and a prize For those silly vermine worms As they crawl in stinking swarms She doth hug them in her arms And doth give them suck by turns Here 's a deformed lump indeed and this Must be the fortune of the fairest face None then are proud but fools They love amisse Whose hearts are chain'd to any thing but grace From the beauty of the skin In the loveliest outward part Lord vouchsafe to turn my heart To love that which is within Meditation 3. IF Death will come sure there will come an end Of all this worlds deep-biting misery Nothing adverse that 's here on earth doth tend Beyond the grave that 's a delivery From the pow'r of men and devils And what-ever other wo May befall us here below Death 's a shelter from all evils Here I am poore my daily drops of sweat Will not maintein my full-stock'd family A dozen hungry children crie for meat And I have none nor will words satisfie Could I give their belly ears 'T were a comfort or could fill Hungry stomacks with good will Or make daily bread of tears Here the oppressour with his griping claws Sits on my skirts my racking land-lord rears Both rent and fine with potent looks he aws Me from mine own Scarce any man but bears In his bosome Ahabs heart Horse-leach-like that 's ever craving Other mens and sick of having Right or wrong will catch a part Here in these clay-built houses sicknesse reigns I have more maladies then I can name Each member of my body hath its pains Moreover weeping groning sadnesse shame Slanders melancholy fear Discontents disgraces losses And a thousand other crosses Must be born if I live here But these are finite all When I am dead My poverty is ended and my care I heare my famish'd children crie for bread No longer Then I drink I lodge I fare Just as well as Caesar doth There ends cold and nakednesse All my former wretchednesse Death is meat and drink and cloth There 's no face-grinding There the mighty cease From troubling there the weary be at rest The servant 's freed the pris'ner is at ease All 's still and quiet no man is oppress'd For incroachers there are none Not a poore man 's wronged nor Is his vineyard longed for Every man may keep his own Sicknesse there 's none when-ever Death shall take My body hence and lodge it in the clay I shall not feel a tooth or finger ake Nor any other misery that may In the least degree displease me For all sores the grave hath plasters And it cureth all disasters Of all burdens Death will ease me Malicious tongues fired below in hell There will not hurt me nor the poisonous breath Of whispering detractours I shall dwell Securely in the dust One stroke of Death Sets me out of gun-shot quite Not the deepest-piercing tongue Can there do me any wrong Bark they may but cannot bite Lord I am thine and if it be thy will While I do live a stranger here below Brim-high with bitternesse my cup to fill And make me drink 't yet Lord withall bestow But thy grace and thou shalt see me Patient and my comfort 's this That a short affliction 't is In a moment Death may free me Meditation 4. IF I must die it must be my endeavour So to provide that every thought of Death May be a thought of comfort that when-ever That aged sire shall take away my breath I may willingly lay down This old house that 's made of clay Gladly welcoming the day That brings an eternall crown But of all things a holy life 's the way Must lead me to a comfortable end To crucifie my lusts and to obey Gods sacred will in all things This doth tend Unto comfort joy and ease Mark the man that is upright And sets God alwayes in 's sight That mans end is ever peace What makes me fear a serpent 't is his sting The mischief 's there When that is taken out I can look on him as a harmlesse thing And in my bosome carry him about What makes Death look rufully Not Deaths self it is his sting That doth fear and horrour bring And makes men so loth to die The sting of death is sinne but there 's a Jesus Hath pluck'd it out The guilt 's done quite away The stain is wash'd He sent his Spirit to ease us In some good measure of that kingly sway Which o're us sinne held before Blessed work of grace now I Strongest lusts can mortifie In my soul sinne reigns no more Now in me holinesse is wrought which is A pious disposition of the heart Inclining me to hate what 's done amisse In me and others never to depart From God to left hand or right Nor one of his laws to break But to think and do and speak What 's well-pleasing in his sight Each act from faith and love ariseth and The end I aim at is my Makers
we of this kingdome may Justly our Creatour praise For a share in happier dayes Then Rome did at best enjoy Ours is a land of barly and of wheat Our stones are iron and our hills yield brasse A land wherein th' inhabitants do eat Bread without scarcenesse here our blessings passe All enumeration What God severally bestows Upon others joyntly flows From his bounty to this nation Yet here men die too not the russet Clowns And Peasants onely that do hold the plow And Shepherds that sit piping on the downs And milk-maids that do court'sie to a cow But those noble men that have Titles lordships farms and mannours And a great book full of honours These go down into the grave See you not yonder super-stately palace Three generations since that house was builded A great man did it for his Lordships solace In summer-time but dying up he yielded To his heir this stately pile This heir left it to his brother He dy'd too and then another Swagger'd there a little while And he that had it last is now remov'd A story lower down into the dust Those swelling titles which were so belov'd That great estate in which the man did trust Troups of gallants that did give Their attendance all that treasure Waiting on his Lordships pleasure Could not keep the man alive Mark yonder marble-tomb beneath it hath This man a lodging All those lines you see On this side are a praising Epitaph And on the other side his titles be Of this fabrick if we might One piece from another sunder And behold what lyeth under 'T would be scarce so fair a sight Great ones remember that there is a place Which poore men call a death-bed and a time Of parting hence you walk a nimble pace To earth-ward every houre Here though you climb Up to Honour 's highest round Drink a cup full to the brim Of the world in pleasures swim Death will lay you under ground Meditation 2. VVHose heart so adamantine but would weep Sad crimson drops to think upon some risers Lord what a wicked shuffling they do keep To lift themselves Some have been sacrificers Of their fathers brothers friends Kinsfolk children and have stood Wetshod every step in bloud To attein their lofty ends Of martyrs what a lamentable heap Did Herod make for fear to loose his crown A mother would have sold a cradle cheap To buy a coffin or a mourning gown This fell Tyrants rage appears Running down each Parents face His wrath left in every place Childlesse mothers drown'd in tears And Absolom that miracle of beauty So eagerly did long to be a King That he could soon unlearn his filiall duty And by a strange rebellion fain would bring The thrice-venerable head Of his aged father down To the grave without a crown And he triumph in his stead Abimelech so strong was his ambition A bloudie bargain made with certain men Of Belial and to hinder competition Did sacrifice at once threescore and ten Of his brothers on a stone With so foul and deep a guilt So much harmlesse bloud is spilt That himself may reigne alone Of that inhumane hell-bred tragedie By Athaliah on the royall seed The motive was desire of majestie And that her own arms might the better speed Our third Richard goes for one Of those butchers who think good To cement their crowns with bloud And by murders reach a throne The great Turks absolute prerogative Which in securitie his crown mainteins Is not to suffer one of them to live That hath a drop of royall bloud in 's veins When he 's crown'd there 's nothing lacking That may to the safetie tend Of this Monarch but to send The ghosts of his kinsmen packing If I at leisure were to write a storie Of such black deeds as these at large I could Tell you of numbers who to purchase glorie Honours and high rooms in the world have sold And this policie they call A good conscience dearer farre Then a thousand kingdomes are And to boot their God and all And yet when all is done there dwells a God above A God that 's greater then the greatest are Who can and will send Death for to remove The greatest hence and bring them to the barre Where must stand both small and great To have sentence e'r they go Of eternall blisse or wo At Gods dreadfull judgement-seat When you are seated highest let your carriage Be full of pietie you do an act Worthy your greatnesse if you make a marriage 'Twixt it and goodnesse if you do contract Honours unto holynesse Ever give the Lord his due Honour who hath honoured you Then will Death affright the lesse Affright the lesse 't will not affright at all The errand 's welcome when a charge is giv'n To that grim pursuivant that he must call Your honours hence unto a court in heav'n To be great is not the thing That can dying-comforts yield Goodnesse onely is the field Whence all soul-refreshings spring Meditation 3. IF ever it should please God and the King Which I do not desire to give me honours Yet never should my best preferments bring Vices to boot they should not change my manners Many a man hath been good Unpreferr'd and not a slave To his lusts yet honours have Put him in another mood Of Saul we heare no evil whilst he stood Endow'd with nothing but a private fortune And afterward we heare as little good Of Saul a King His honours did importune His bad nature to produce Such fruits as were too unsit For a King and to commit Sinnes that were beyond excuse As long as man is limited within The bounds of humble base and mean estate He seems to make some conscience of a sinne And one that would be good at any rate But no wickednesse he spares When by chance the man is mounted And ' mongst great ones is accounted Then the man himself declares Then his depraved nature with loose rains Runnes uncontrolledly into the mire Of all impietie no sinne remains Unacted by him doth he but desire To be wicked vain or idle Any lust to satisfie That lust he will gratifie His affections wear no bridle I 'll never be deboist although my seat Of glory in the world be ne'r so high I will not therefore sinne because I 'm great For if I greater were yet I must die And must at Gods bench appear Where my sentence shall be given To receive a hell or heaven As my doings have been here Sect. 3. Pleasures cannot protect us from the stroke of Death Under the sunne there was not any joy Which Solomon that wise and famous King Had not a tast of whatsoever may Gladnesse content delight and solace bring That he from the creature gathers Not one pleasure doth he keep His heart from yet he 's asleep In the dust among his fathers His senses had those objects which delight Content and please and ravish most his touch His tast his hearing smelling and his
He weakens the old man that lies at lurch In each of his faculties And his master-sinne the strongest Lust that hath been harboured longest In his soul he mortifies He multiplies not as in many places Men do his riches but he multiplies And doth augment his saving gifts and graces If not in habit yet in exercise He divides his goods he feedeth Hungrie bellies and relieveth Such as are distress'd and giveth Unto everie one that needeth When he reduceth 't is his conversation In ev'rie point from what it was by nature He moulds his life into another fashion And shews himself to be a new-made creature And for such a mans Progression He 's not fixed in his place Like a statue but in grace Grows to credit his profession He ever worketh by the Rule of Three That do above in heaven bear record The Golden Rule whereby his actions be Squar'd and directed is their written word Though sometimes he work by Fractions Gives God broken services ' Cause he 's flesh in part yet is He sincere in all his actions And for a pious mans Astronomie What if he cannot tell the sev'rall motions Those orbs have which do roll about the skie Starres names site bignesse and such other notions What if he know not how soon The sunne will eclipsed be Nor hath wit enough to see The new world that 's in the moon Yet he doth know the milkie way that leads Unto the palace of the highest King Whose presence the whole host of heaven dreads Who made the starres the spheres and everie thing Steers the course that each orb runnes Binds starres influence looseth the bands Of Orion and his hands Guide Arcturus with his sonnes For Geometrie what if he cannot tell How many miles the vast earth is about Yet doth his pious art by farre excell In finding many greater matters out Matters that exceed the strength Of best wits the full extension Of Christ 's love in each dimension Height and depth breadth length For Grammar he can wickednesse decline His supernaturall Philosophie Is wisdome to salvation Most divine His musick is That God that dwells on high Is pleas'd with no other tone There is nothing he can heare Makes such musick in his eare As a sanctified grone For Physick his most admirable knowledge Hath found out a Catholicon This ranks His skill deservedly above the Colledge Above French or Italian mountebanks There 's no sicknesse he is sure Be it ne'r so strong or foul That affecteth any soul But the bloud of Christ can cure The greatest Clerk is but a learned fool If 's learning be not mixt with godlinesse The greatest Scholar 's he that goes to school To learn of Christ the wayes of holinesse Thus if learning be a treasure That doth please or skill in arts Or to be a man of parts He that 's holy finds this pleasure Doth toothsome and delicious chear delight The godly have it once a week at least Our bounty-handed Saviour doth invite His servants to a rich and sumptuous feast Where his own self is our server Such a feast of fattest things As if all the guests were Kings Where faith may be her own carver Do riches please A godly mans estate Surpasseth that of Croesus he hath more Then out of Christ is had at any rate God hath endow'd him with a blessed store Better then a heap of gold Which nor thief nor moth nor rust Can steal eat or turn to dust His are bags that ne'r wax old Gods rich and precious promises are his Which by a precious faith he makes his own Gods richest mercy there 's no wealth like this Christs precious bloud whereof a drop alone Was of higher valuation Then all men and Angels be Or what e'r the sunne did see Ever since the first creation Doth rich apparel please Christs righteousnesse Clothes all his members to conceal their shame Ne'r was Kings daughter in so pure a dresse Unlesse she were adorned with the same 'T is a robe that God doth please Angels that on God do wait And ne'r lost their first estate Are not cloth'd like one of these For all delights the cheating world hath none So good by half ' mongst all her painted store As those the soul finds in religion With purest joy the pious heart runnes o'r Let the world diversifie Her delights a thousand wayes Yet they come short of those joyes That are found in pietie When I must die my joy that 's naturall Forsaketh me that which is secular Takes leave assoon as ever Death doth call Joyes that were criminall converted are Into most tormenting fears Onely that which is divine On a Death-bed will be mine And what if when Death appears It cannot shield me from that fatall blow I would not it should do me so much wrong For if I were immortall here below I were not happie yet 't will go along With me when I do depart Carnall joyes Lord from me banish Let divine delights replenish Ev'rie corner of my heart Sect. 4. Friends cannot protect us from the stroke of Death IF I were great rich prosperous secure Successefull in the world I should be sure That more time-servers would my friendship woo Then I could reckon in a yeare or two As greedie Eagles to a carcase hasten And with sharp tallons on their prey do fasten So would they flock about me Or if I Could learn the art of popularity I might be rich in friends yet all my store Would not know how to keep Death out of doore Meditation 1. OF Proteus 't is fained that he could Transform himself to any kind of shape Into a Dove or Lamb and when he would Into a Tiger Lion Bear or Ape Or a Mountain Rock or Spring Or Earth Water Fire Air Into any forms that are Stampt in any kind of thing And Aristippus could exactly flatter He had the art of winning gainfull friends And that his fortune might be made the fatter Had all behaviours at his fingers ends He could grone when 's friend was sickly And could weep when he was sad Any humour good or bad Did become him very quickly Did I believe that metempsychosis Pythagoras did dream of I should swear That Proteus ghost to this day neither is In hell nor yet in heaven but doth wear Now a body and the base Ghost of Aristippus dwells In a thousand bodies else How could thousands have the face To personate so many humours act So many parts at once and balk no sinne Yea perpetrate with ease the basest fact That hell e'r punished to wind them into great friendships though they misse Heavens favour all the while Dreaming that a great mans smile Is on earth the onely blisse And yet when that last enemie shall come And grind their aching bones with griping throes To bring their bodies to their longest home There 's not a man ' mongst all their friends that knows How to take away their pain In comes ghastly Death among The
well Look how the primum mobile doth move Accordingly do move the other spheres As in a Jack the wheel that is above With its first mover just proportion bears In a familie 't is so Look what way the parents take That the rest their rule will make Chiefly there the children go Not any godly precept so exact is Which you shall teach your children to obey But that if you shall thwart it by your practice Thus will your junior houshold-members say At least they will whisper thus If vertue be good then why Do not you live vertuously If not why d' ye presse 't on us If by these wayes you strive to educate Whom God hath blest with fruitfull progenies Your children well their early Death or late Shall not a jote augment your miseries A childs death is not a rod To afflict a parents heart He that dies well doth depart Hence that he may live with God Lord if thou make my wife a fruitfull vine Make it withall my chiefest care to dresse The branches well the glorie shall be thine And if they die my grief shall be the lesse A childs death 's a precious savour In thy nostrils that was here Taught to live Lord in thy fear For he dieth in thy favour Meditation 4. IF youth it self may drop into the grave When children die methinks they should bequeath Surviving parents comforts Sure they have No cause were not affection strong to grieve Overmuch as many do For Death is impartiall By his stroke all ages fall Both the old'st and youngest too Think duly on 't Why should your eyes runne o'r For what you have no way to remedie If you should heav'n eternally implore It would not send them back But you 'll replie ' Cause there 's no way to be found That may help us to recover Them again our eyes runne over And our tears do so abound Nor ever will your highest floud of sorrow Transport them back into the world again Your selves may follow them before to morrow Those deep-fetch'd sighs are smok'd out all in vain So are all those drops you mourn Shed in vain hap'ly you may Soon go after them but they Are too happie to return Is it your love that doth produce such grones How easily alas is love mistaken Methinks you cannot love and grieve at once To love were to rejoyce that they have shaken Hands with miserie to dwell In a world of blisse above Grief at this is farre from love It seems not to wish them well Or is 't because that they are dead you weep I do not think that when they were begotten You dream'd them death free or had hopes to keep Them here for ever that they would be rotten In their graves you could not choose But consider for a span To be quickly ended can Never go for any news Nor with good reason can you lay the blame On Death at all but on your selves that did Beget them mortall for the very same Matter wherewith they were begot and sed Fits them for an alteration By the hand of Death If you Grudge that Death hath â—a'n his due You may blame their generation Or do you grieve because they di'd so soon If wayes be foul and journeys perillous Who taketh up his lodging e'r 't be noon Is best at ease 'T is like God loveth those Whom he takes betime away Sad experience lets us know That the happi'st here below Have a miserable stay Or is your onely child deceas'd that passion Doth domineer so here I could allow Methinks your tears a free immoderation But that on better ground then Jephtha's vow I remember what was done By that parent who is penn'd Down for great Jehovah 's friend In case of his only sonne Ev'n when 't was dead a miracle did fill His Sarahs womb but it was fill'd but once Isaac was all Yet Abraham must kill This all himself God did it for the nonce That he might his graces prove Yet the man made no denyall But did by so strange a triall Manifest his faith and love This case must needs strike nearer to the heart Then yours yet he doth presently submit Love I confesse is very loth to part With what it loves but grace doth put a bit Into natures mouth that she May not grumble nor repine At what 's a decree Divine But subscribe it chearfully Just like the Autumn-sap of fruitfull trees So love descends and it is ardent when Dispersed but by infinite degrees More ardent when it is contracted men That have but an onely sonne If Death take him hence their losse Is a great one but this crosse Must be born Thy will be done Is what your selves do pray for every day And when this will of God 's declared you Greatly offend if you do murmure May Not God and Sinne and Nature claim their due Very ill you do behave you If you give not heav'n leave Thankfully for to bereave You again of what it gave you Lord if thou please to stock my table round About with children yet I will be glad Nor shall my sorrow overmuch abound Though I do see them in their grave-clothes clad For the sooner are they blest And within the shortest space Whom thou help'st to winne a race They the sooner are at rest Meditation 5. VVE do not die by chance nor yet by fortune But how and when the Lord will have us die He numbers all our dayes we cannot shorten Nor lengthen them a minute Destiny Neither spinnes nor cuts the thread God a certain period sets No man shorter falls or gets Further then the bounds decreed If God vouchsafe to number out the hairs That do adorn and cloth our sinfull heads Who doubteth that his providence forbears To count our dayes If not a sparrow treads On the earth 's face thus or thus But his providence awaketh For to note it sure he taketh Greater care by farre of us If any godlesse wits so curious be To talk of Hezekiah's fifteen years His sentence God did change not his decree The answer is yet Esay 's tongue appears To speak not a jote the lesse Truth 't was with a supposition God doth threaten with condition Either tacit or expresse When Pestilence that lothsome dreadfull hag Bepatch'd with botches wanders up and down And into ev'ry houshold drops the plague Scarce any Turk in an infected town But will wife and friend afford Daily visits and imbraces They flie no contagious places Nor fear either bed or bord Their reason is Gods providence doth write Their fortunes on their foreheads neither can Their day of life be longer nor their night Of Death come sooner then God wills it Man Must yield 's ghost when God will have it For health and life if God will Save it 't is not plague can kill If not 't is not they can save it Such block-heads have not brains enough to think That as the time so God withall decrees The means of life as physick