minde Admitted to their bed-chamber before They appeare trim and drest To ordinarie suitours at the doore What hath not man sought out and found But his deare God who yet his glorious law Embosomes in us mellowing the ground With showres and frosts with love aw So that we need not say Where 's this command Poore man thou searchest round To finde out death but missest life at hand ¶ Lent WElcome deare feast of Lent who loves not thee He loves not Temperance or Authoritie But is compos'd of passion The Scriptures bid us fast the Church sayes now Give to thy Mother what thou wouldst allow To ev'ry Corporation The humble soul compos'd of love and fear Begins at home and layes the burden there When doctrines disagree He sayes in things which use hath justly got I am a scandall to the Church and not The Church is so to me True Christians should be glad of an occasion To use their temperance seeking no evasion When good is seasonable Unlesse Authoritie which should increase The obligation in us make it lesse And Power it self disable Besides the cleannesse of sweet abstinence Quick thoughts and motions at a small expense A face not fearing light Whereas in fulnesse there are sluttish fumes Sowre exhalations and dishonest rheumes Revenging the delight Then those same pendant profits which the spring And Easter intimate enlarge the thing And goodnesse of the deed Neither ought other mens abuse of Lent Spoil the good use leâ—t by that argument We forfeit all our Creed It 's true we cannot reach Christs forti'th day Yet to go part of that religious way Is better then to rest We cannot reach our Saviours puritie Yet are we bid Be holy ev'n as he In both let 's do our best Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone Is much more sure to meet with him then one That travelleth by-wayes Perhaps my God though he be farre before May turn and take me by the hand and more May strengthen my decayes Yet Lord instruct us to improve our fast By starving sinne and taking such repast As may our faults controll That ev'ry man may revell at his doore Not in his parlour banquetting the poore And among those his soul. ¶ Vertue SWeet day so cool so calm so bright The bridall of the earth and skie The dew shall weep thy fall to night For thou must die Sweet rose whose hue angrie and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye Thy root is ever in its grave And thou must die Sweet spring full of sweet dayes and roses A box where sweets compacted lie My musick shows ye have your closes And all must die Onely a sweet and vertuous soul Like season'd timber never gives But though the whole world turn to coal Then chiefly lives ¶ The Pearl Matth. 13. I Know the wayes of learning both the head And pipes that feed the presse and make it runne What reason hath from nature borrowed Or of it self like a good huswife spunne In laws and policie what the starres conspire What willing nature speaks what forc'd by fire Both th' old discoveries and the new-found seas The stock and surplus cause and historie All these stand open or I have the keyes Yet I love thee I know the wayes of honour what maintains The quick returns of courtesie and wit In vies of favours whether partie gains When glorie swells the heart and moldeth it To all expressions both of hand and eye Which on the world a true-love-knot may tie And bear the bundle wheresoe're it goes How many drammes of spirit there must be To sell my life unto my friends or foes Yet I love thee I know the wayes of pleasure the sweet strains The lullings and the relishes of it The propositions of hot bloud and brains What mirth and musick mean what love and wit Have done these twentie hundred yeares and more I know the projects of unbridled store My stuffe is flesh not brasse my senses live And grumble oft that they have more in me Then he that curbs them being but one to five Yet I love thee I know all these and have them in my hand Therefore not sealed but with open eyes I flie to thee and fully understand Both the main sale and the commodities And at what rate and price I have thy love With all the circumstances that may move Yet through the labyrinths not my groveling wit But thy silk twist let down from heav'n to me Did both conduct and teach me how by it To climbe to thee ¶ Affliction BRoken in pieces all asunder Lord hunt me not A thing forgot Once a poore creature now a wonder A wonder tortur'd in the space Betwixt this world and that of grace My thoughts are all a case of knives Wounding my heart With scatter'd smart As watring pots give flowers their lives Nothing their furie can controll While they do wound and prick my soul. All my attendants are at strife Quitting their place Unto my face Nothing performs the task of life The elements are let loose to fight And while I live trie out their right Oh help my God! let not their plot Kill them and me And also thee Who art my life dissolve the knot As the sunne scatters by his light All the rebellions of the night Then shall those powers which work for grief Enter thy pay And day by day Labour thy praise and my relief With care and courage building me Till I reach heav'n and much more thee ¶ Man MY God I heard this day That none doth build a stately habitation But he that means to dwell therein What house more stately hath there been Or can be then is Man to whose creation All things are in decay For Man is ev'ry thing And more He is a tree yet bears no fruit A beast yet is or should be more Reason and speech we onely bring Parrats may thank us if they are not mute They go upon the score Man is all symmetrie Full of proportions one limbe to another And all to all the world besides Each part may call the farthest brother For head with foot hath private amitie And both with moons and tides Nothing hath got so farre But Man hath caught and kept it as his prey His eyes dismount the highest starre He is in little all the sphere Herbs gladly cure our flesh because that they Finde their acquaintance there For us the windes do blow The earth doth rest heav'n move and fountains flow Nothing we see but means our good As our delight or as our treasure The whole is either our cupboard of food Or cabinet of pleasure The starres have us to bed Night draws the curtain which the sunne withdraws Musick and light attend our head All things unto our flesh are kinde In their descent and being to our minde In their ascent and cause Each thing is full of dutie Waters united are our navigation Distinguished our habitation Below our drink above our meat Both are
bitter crosse Was ever grief c. 〈◊〉 crosse I bear my self untill I faint â—â—en Simon bears it for me by constraint â—â—e decreed burden of each mortall Saint Was ever grief c. 〈◊〉 all ye who passe by behold and see â—â—n stole the fruiâ— but I must climbe the tree The tree of life to all but onely me Was ever grief c. 〈◊〉 here I hang charg'd with a world of sinne â—â—e greater world o' th' two for that came in 〈◊〉 words but this by sorrow I must win Was ever grief c. Such sorrow as if sinfull man could feel 〈◊〉 feel his part he would not cease to kneel â—â—ll all were melted though he were all steel Was ever grief c. â—â—â—t O my God my God! why leav'st thou me The sonne in whom thou dost delight to be â—â—y God my God Never was grief like mine â—â—â—me tears my soul my bodie many a wound â—â—arp nails pierce this but sharper that confound â—eproches which are free while I am bound Was ever grief c. Now heal thy self Physician now come down Alas I did so when I left my crown And fathers smile for you to feel his frown Was ever grief like mine In healing not my self there doth consist All that salvation which ye now resist Your safetie in my sicknesse doth subsist Was ever grief c. Betwixt two theeves I spend my utmost breath As he that for some robberie suffereth Alas what have I stollen from you death Was ever grief c. A king my title is prefixt on high Yet by my subjects am condemn'd to die A servile death in servile companie Was ever grief c. They gave me vineger mingled with gall But more with malice yet when they did call With Manna Angels food I fed them all Was ever grief c. They part my garments and by lot dispose My coat the type of love which once cur'd those Who sought for help never malicious foes Was ever grief c. Nay after death their spite shall further go For they will pierce my side I full well know That as sinne came so Sacraments might flow Was ever grief c. But now I die now all is finished My wo mans weal and now I bow my head Onely let others say when I am dead Never was grief like mine ¶ The Thanksgiving OH King of grief a title strange yet true To thee of all kings onely due Oh King of wounds how shall I grieve for thee Who in all grief preventest me Shall I weep bloud why thou hast wept such store That all thy body was one doore Shall I be scourged flouted boxed sold 'T is but to tell the tale is told My God my God why dost thou part from me Was such a grief as cannot be Shall I then sing skipping thy dolefull storie And side with thy triumphant glorie Shall thy strokes be my stroking thorns my flowerâ— Thy rod my posie crosse my bower But how then shall I imitate thee and Copie thy fair though bloudie hand Stâ—â—dy I will reuenge me on thy love And trie who shall victorious prove If thou dost give me wealth I will restore All back unto thee by the poore If thou dost give me honour men shall see The honour doth belong to thee I will not marry or if she be mine She and her children shall be thine My bosome friend if he blaspheme thy name I will tear thence his love and fame One half of me being gone the rest I give Unto some Chappell die or live Aâ— for thy passion But of that anon When with the other I have done 〈◊〉 thy predestination I 'le contrive That three yeares hence if I survive I 'le build a spittle or mend common wayes But mend mine own without delayes Then I will use the works of thy creation As if I us'd them but for fashion The world and I will quarrell and the yeare Shall not perceive that I am here My musick shall finde thee and ev'ry string Shall have his attribute to sing That all together may accord in thee And prove one God one harmonie If thou shalt give me wit it shall appeare If thou hast giv'n it me 't is here Nay I will reade thy book and never move Till I have found therein thy love Thy art of love which I 'le turn back on thee O my deare Saviour Victorie Then for thy passion I will do for that Alas my God I know not what ¶ The Reprisall I Have consider'd it and finde There is no dealing with thy mighty passion For though I die for thee I am behinde My sinnes deserve the condemnation O make me innocent that I May give a disentangled state and free And yet thy wounds still my attempts defie For by thy death I die for thee Ah! was it not enough that thou By thy eternall glorie didst outgo me Couldst thou not griefs sad conquests me allow But in all vict'ries overthrow me Yet by confession will I come â—â—to the conquest Though I can do nought â—gainst thee in thee I will overcome The man who once against thee fought ¶ The Agonie PHilosophers have measur'd mountains â—â—thom'd the depths of seas of states and kings Walk'd with a staffe to heav'n and traced fountains But there are two vast spacious things The which to measure it doth more behove â—et few there are that sound them Sinne and Love Who would know Sinne let him repair â—nto mount Olivet there shall he see â— man so wrung with pains that all his hair His skinne his garments bloudie be â—nne is that presse and vice which forceth pain â—o hunt his cruell food through ev'ry vein Who knows not Love let him assay â—nd taste that juice which on the crosse a pike â—nd set again abroach then let him say If ever he did taste the like â—ove is that liquour sweet and most divine Which my God feels as bloud but I as wine ¶ The Sinner LOrd how I am all ague when I seek What I have treasur'd in my memorie Since if my soul make even with the week Each seventh note by right is due to thee I finde there quarries of pil'd vanities But shreds of holinesse that dare not venture To shew their face since crosse to thy decrees There the circumference earth is heav'n the centre In so much dregs the quintessence is small The spirit and good extract of my heart Comes to about the many hundredth part Yet Lord restore thine image heare my call And though my hard heart scarce to thee can grone Remember that thou once didst write in stone ¶ Good Friday O My chief good How shall I measure out thy bloud How shall I count what thee befell And each grief tell Shall I thy woes Number according to thy foes Or since one starre show'd thy first breath Shall all thy death Or shall each leaf Which falls in Autumne score a grief Or cannot leaves but fruit be signe Of the true vine Then let each
in ev'ry corner sing My God and King Vers. The heav'ns are not too high His praise may thither flie The earth is not too low His praises there may grow Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing My God and King Vers. The church with psalms must shouâ— No doore can keep them out But above all the heart Must bear the longest part Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing My God and King ¶ Love I. IMmortall Love authour of this great frame Sprung from that beautie which can never fade How hath man parcel'd out thy glorious name And thrown it on that dust which thou hast made While mortall love doth all the title gain Which siding with invention they together Bear all the sway possessing heart and brain Thy workmanship and give thee share in neither Wit fancies beautie beautie raiseth wit The world is theirs they two play out the game Thou standing by and though thy glorious nâ—â—â— Wrought our deliverance from th' infernall pit Who sings thy praise onely a skarf or glove Doth warm our hands and make them write 〈…〉 II. IMmortall Heat O let thy greater flame Attract the lesser to it let those fires Which shall consume the world first make it tamâ— And kindle in our hearts such true desires As may consume our lusts and make thee way Then shall our hearts pant thee then shall our brain All her invention on thine Altar lay And there in hymnes send back thy fire again Our eies shall see thee which before saw dust Dust blown by wit till that they both were blindâ— Thou shalt recover all thy goods in kinde Who wert disseized by usurping lust All knees shall bow to thee all wits shall rise And praise him who did make and mend our eies ¶ The Temper HOw should I praise thee Lord how should my rymes Gladly engrave thy love in steel If what my soul doth feel sometimes My soul might ever feel â—â—though there were some fourtie heav'ns or more Sometimes I peere above them all Sometimes I hardly reach a score Sometimes to hell I fall 〈◊〉 rack me not to such a vast extent Those distances belong to thee The world 's too little for thy tent A grave too big for me â—â—lt thou meet arms with man that thou dost stretch A crumme of dust from heav'n to hell Will great God measure with a wretch Shall he thy stature spell O let me when thy roof my soul hath hid O let me roost and nestle there Then of a sinner thou art rid And I of hope and fear Yet take thy way for sure thy way is best Stretch or contract me thy poore debter This is but tuning of my breast To make the musick better Whether I flie with angels fall with dust Thy hands made both and I am there Thy power and love my love and trust Make one place ev'ry where ¶ The Temper IT cannot be Where is that mightie joy Which just now took up all my heart Lord if thou must needs use thy dart Save that and me or sin for both destroy The grosser world stands to thy word and art But thy diviner world of grace Thou suddenly dost raise and race And ev'ry day a new Creatour art O fix thy chair of grace that all my powers May also fix their reverence For when thou dost depart from hence They grow unruly and sit in thy bowers Scatter or binde them all to bend to thee Though elements change and heaven move Let not thy higher Court remove But keep a standing Majestie in me ¶ Jordan WHo sayes that fictions onely and false hair Become a verse Is there in truth no beautiâ— Is all good structure in a winding stair May no lines passe except they do their dutie Not to a true but painted chair Is it no verse except enchanted groves And sudden arbours shadow course-spunne lines Must purling streams refresh a lovers loves Must all be vail'd while he that reades divines Catching the sense at two removes Shepherds are honest people let them sing Riddle who list for me and pull for Prime I envie no mans nightingale or spring Nor let them punish me with losse of ryme Who plainly say My God My King ¶ Employment IF as a flowre doth spread and die Thou wouldst extend me to some good â—â—fore I were by frosts extremitie Nipt in the bud The sweetnesse and the praise were thine But the extension and the room â—hich in thy garland I should fill were mine At thy great doom For as thou dost impart thy grace The greater shall our glorie be â—he measure of our joyes is in this place The stuffe with thee Let me not languish then and spend A life as barren to thy praise â—s is the dust to which that life doth tend But with delaies All things are busie onely I Neither bring hony with the bees Nor flowres to make that nor the husbandrie To water these I am no link of thy great chain But all my companie is a weed Lord place me in thy consort give one strain To my poore reed ¶ The H. Scriptures I. OH Book infinite sweetnesse let my heart Suck ev'ry letter and a hony gain Precious for any grief in any part To cleare the breast to mollifie all pain Thou art all health health thriving till it make A full eternitie thou art a masse Of strange delights where we may wish 〈◊〉 Ladies look here this is the thankfull glasse That mends the lookers eyes this is the well That washes what it shows Who can indâ—â—â— Thy praise too much thou art heav'ns Li 〈…〉 Working against the states of death and hell Thou art joyes handsell heav'n lies flat in theâ— Subject to ev'ry mounters bended knee II. OH that I knew how all thy lights combine And the configurations of their glorie Seeing not onely how each verse doth shine But all the constellations of the storie This verse marks thaâ— and both do make a motion Unto a third that ten leaves off doth lie Then as dispersed herbs do watch a potion These three make up some Christians destinie 〈◊〉 are thy secrets which my life makes good And comments on thee for in ev'ry thing Thy words do finde me out parallels bring 〈◊〉 in another make me understood Starres are poore books oftentimes do misse This book of starres lights to eternall blisse ¶ Whitsunday LIsten sweet Dove unto my song And spread thy golden wings in me Hatching my tender heart so long â—ll it get wing and flie away with thee Where is that fire which once descended On thy Apostles thou didst then Keep open house richly attended â—asting all comers by twelve chosen men Such glorious gifts thou didst bestow That th' earth did like a heav'n appeare The starres were coming down to know 〈◊〉 they might mend their wages and serve here The sunne which once did shine alone Hung down his head and wisht for night When he beheld twelve sunnes for one â—oing about the world
Yet when the houre of thy designe To answer these fine things shall come Speak not at large say I am thine And then they have their answer home ¶ Vanitie POore silly soul whose hope and head lies low Whose flat delights on earth do creep and grow To whom the starres shine not so fair as eyes Nor solid work as false embroyderies Heark and beware lest what you now do measure And write for sweet prove a most sowre displeasure O heare betimes lest thy relenting May come too late To purchase heaven for repenting Is no hard rate If souls be made of earthly mold Let them love gold If born on high Let them unto their kindred flie For they can never be at rest Till they regain their ancient nest Then silly soul take heed for earthly joy Is but a bubble and makes thee a boy ¶ The Dawning AWake sad heart whom sorrow ever drowns Take up thine eyes which feed on earth Unfold thy forehead gather'd into frowns Thy Saviour comes and with him mirth Awake awake And with a thankfull heart his comforts take But thou dost still lament and pine and crie And feel his death but not his victorie Arise sad heart if thou dost not withstand Christs resurrection thine may be Do not by hanging down break from the hand Which as it riseth raiseth thee Arise arise And with his buriall-linen drie thine eyes Christ left his grave-clothes that we might when grief Draws tears or bloud not want an handkerchief ¶ JESU JESU is in my heart his sacred name Is deeply carved there but th' other week A great affliction broke the little frame Ev'n all to pieces which I went to seek And first I found the corner where was I After where ES and next where V was graved When I had got these parcels instantly I sat me down to spell them and perceived That to my broken heart he was I ease you And to my whole is IESV ¶ Businesse CAnst be idle canst thou play Foolish soul who sinn'd to day Rivers run and springs each one Know their home and get them gone Hast thou tears or hast thou none If poore soul thou hast no tears Would thou hadst no faults or fears Who hath these those ill forbears Windes still work it is their plot Be the season cold or hot Hast thou sighs or hast thou not If thou hast no sighs or grones Would thou hadst no flesh and bones Lesser pains scape greater ones But if yet thou idle be Foolish soul Who di'd for thee Who did leave his Fathers throne To assume thy flesh and bone Had he life or had he none If he had not liv'd for thee Thou hadst di'd most wretchedly And two deaths had been thy fee. He so farre thy good did plot That his own self he forgot Did he die or did he not If he had not di'd for thee Thou hadst liv'd in miserie Two lives worse then ten deaths be And hath any space of breath 'Twixt his sinnes and Saviours death He that loseth gold though drosse Tells to all he meets his crosse He that sinnes hath he no losse He that findes a silver vein Thinks on it and thinks again Brings thy Saviours death no gain Who in heart not ever kneels Neither sinne nor Saviour feels ¶ Dialogue SWeetest Saviour if my soul Were but worth the having Quickly should I then controll Any thought of waving But when all my care and pains Cannot give the name of gains To thy wretch so full of stains What delight or hope remains What childe is the ballance thine Thine the poise and measure If I say Thou shalt be mine Finger not my treasure What the gains in having thee Do amount to onely he Who for man was sold can see That transferr'd th' accounts to me But as I can see no merit Leading to this favour So the way to fit me for it Is beyond my savour As the reason then is thine So the way is none of mine I disclaim the whole designe Sinne disclaims and I resigne That is all if that I could Get without repining And my clay my creature would Follow my resigning That as I did freely part With my glorie and desert Left all joyes to feel all smart Ah! no more thou break'st my heart ¶ Dulnesse WHy do I languish thus drooping and dull As if I were all earth O give me quicknesse that I may with mirth Praise thee brim-full The wanton lover in a curious strain Can praise his fairest fair And with quaint metaphors her curled hair Curl o're again Thou art my lovelinesse my life my light Beautie alone to me Thy bloudy death and undeserv'd makes thee Pure red and white When all perfections as but one appeare That those thy form doth show The very dust where thou dost tread and go Makes beauties here Where are my lines then my approaches views Where are my window-songs Lovers are still pretending ev'n wrongs Sharpen their Muse But I am lost in flesh whose sugred lyes Still mock me and grow bold Sure thou didst put a minde there if I could Finde where it lies Lord cleare thy gift that with a constant wit I may but look towards thee Look onely for to love thee who can be What angel fit ¶ Love-joy AS on a window late I cast mine eye I saw a vine drop grapes with I and C Anneal'd on every bunch One standing by Ask'd what it meant I who am never loth To spend my iudgement said It seem'd to me To be the bodie and the letters both Of Ioy and Charitie Sir you have not miss'd The man reply'd It figures IESVS CHRIST ¶ Providence O Sacred Providence who from end to end Strongly and sweetly movest shall I write And not of thee through whom my fingers bend To hold my quill shall they not do thee right Of all the creatures both in sea and land Onely to Man thou hast made known thy wayes And put the penne alone into his hand And made him Secretarie of thy praise Beasts fain would sing birds dittie to their notes Trees would be tuning on their native lute To thy renown but all their hands and throats Are brought to Man while they are lame and mute Man is the worlds high Priest he doth present The sacrifice for all while they below Unto the service mutter an assent Such as springs use that fall and windes that blow He that to praise and laud thee doth refrain Doth not refrain unto himself alone But robs a thousand who would praise thee fain And doth commit a world of sinne in one The beasts say Eat me but if beasts must teach The tongue is yours to eat but mine to praise The trees say Pull me but the hand you stretch Is mine to write as it is yours to raise Wherefore most sacred Spirit I here present For me and all my fellows praise to thee And just it is that I should pay the rent Because the benefit accrues to me We all
temper'd with a sinners tears â—Balsome are for both the Hemispheres â—â—ring all wounds but mine all but my fears Was ever grief c. Yet my Disciples sleep I cannot gain One houre of watching but their drowsie brain Comforts not me and doth my doctrine stain Was ever grief like 〈◊〉 Arise arise they come Look how they runne Alas what haste they make to be undone How with their lanterns do they seek the sunne Was ever grief c. With clubs and staves they seek me as a thief Who am the way of truth the true relief Most true to those who are my greatest grief Was ever grief c. Iudas dost thou betray me with a kisse Canst thou finde hell about my lips and misse Of life just at the gates of life and blisse Was ever grief c. See they lay hold on me not with the hands Of faith but furie yet at their commands I suffer binding who have loos'd their bands Was ever grief c. All my Disciples flie fear puts a barre Betwixt my friends and me They leave the starre That brought the wise men of the East from farre Was ever grief c. Then from one ruler to another bound They leade me urging that it was not sound What I taught Comments would the text confouâ— Was ever grief c. The Priest and rulers all false witnesse seek 'Gainst him who seeks not life but is the meek And readie Paschal Lambe of this great week Was ever grief c. 〈◊〉 they accuse me of great blasphemie 〈◊〉 I did thrust into the Deitie 〈◊〉 never thought that any robberie Was ever grief like mine 〈◊〉 said that I the Temple to the floore 〈◊〉 three dayes raz'd and raised as before 〈◊〉 he that built the world can do much more Was ever grief c. Then they condemne me all with that same breath Which I do give them daily unto death Thus Adam my first breathing rendereth Was ever grief c. They binde and leade me unto Herod he Sends me to Pilate This makes them agree But yet their friendship is my enmitie Was ever grief c. Herod and all his bands do set me light Who teach all hands to warre fingers to fight And onely am the Lord of hosts and might Was ever grief c. Herod in judgement sits while I do stand 〈◊〉 mines me with a censorious hand 〈◊〉 m obey who all things else command Was ever grief c. Tâ—e Iews accuse me with despitefulnesse Aâ—d vying malice with my gentlenesse 〈◊〉 k quarrels with their onely happinesse Was ever grief c. I answer nothing but with patience prove â—â—stonie hearts will melt with gentle love 〈◊〉 t who does hawk at eagles with a dove Was ever grief c. My silence rather doth augment their crie My dove doth back into my bosome flie Because the raging waters still are high Was ever grief like 〈◊〉 Heark how they crie aloud still Crucifie It is not fit he live a day they crie Who cannot live lesse then eternally Was ever grief c. Pilate a stranger holdeth off but they Mine own deare people cry Away away With noises confused frighting the day Was ever grief c. Yet still they shout and crie and stop their eares Putting my life among their sinnes and fears And therefore wish my bloud on them and theirs Was ever grief c. See how spite cankers things These words aright Used and wished are the whole worlds light But hony is their gall brightnesse their night Was ever grief c. They choose a murderer and all agree In him to do themselves a courtesie For it was their own cause who killed me Was ever grief c. And a seditious murderer he was But I the Prince of peace peace that doth passe All understanding more then heav'n doth glasse Was ever grief c. Why Cesar is their onely King not I He clave the stonie rock when they were drie But surely not their hearts as I well trie Was ever grief c. 〈◊〉 ow they scourge me yet my tendernesse 〈◊〉 les each lash and yet their bitternesse 〈◊〉 es up my grief to a mysteriousnesse Was ever grief like mine They buffet me and box me as they list Who grasp the earth and heaven with my fist And never yet whom I would punish miss'd Was ever grief c. Behâ—ld they spit on me in scornfull wise Who by my spittle gave the blinde man eies Leâ—â—ing his blindnesse to mine enemies Was ever grief c. My face they cover though it be divine 〈◊〉 Moses face was vailed so is mine Lest on their double-dark souls either shine Was ever grief c. Serâ—â—nts and abjects flout me they are wittie 〈◊〉 prophesie who strikes thee is their dittie So they in me denie themselves all pitie Was ever grief c. And now I am deliver'd unto death Which each one cals for so with utmost breath That he before me well nigh suffereth Was ever grief c. Wâ—â—p not deare friends since I for both have wept Wâ—en all my tears were bloud the while you slept Yâ—â—r tears for your own fortunes should be kept Was ever grief c. The souldiers lead me to the common hall Tâ—ere they deride me they abuse me all 〈◊〉 for twelve heav'nly legions I could call Was ever grief c. Then with a scarlet robe they me aray Which shews my bloud to be the onely way And cordiall left to repair mans decay Was ever grief like mine Then on my head a crown of thorns I wear For these are all the grapes Sion doth bear Though I my vine planted and watred there Was ever grief c. So sits the earths great curse in Adams fall Upon my head so I remove it all From th' earth unto my brows and bear the thrall Was ever grief c. Then with the reed they gave to me before They strike my head the rock from whence all 〈◊〉 Of heav'nly blessings issue evermore Was ever grief c. They bow their knees to me and cry Hail king What ever scoffes or scornfulnesse can bring I am the floore the sink where they it fling Was ever grief c. Yet since mans scepters are as frail as reeds And thorny all their crowns bloudie their weeds I who am Truth turn into truth their deeds Was ever grief c. The souldiers also spit upon that face Which Angels did desire to have the grace And Prophets once to see but found no place Was ever grief c. Thus trimmed forth they bring me to the rout Who Crucifie him crie with one strong shout God holds his peace at man and man cries out Was ever grief c. â—â—ey leade me in once more and putting then â—he own clothes on they leade me out agen â—â—om devils flie thus is he toss'd of men Was ever grief like mine â—â—d now wearie of sport glad to ingrosse 〈◊〉 spite in one counting my life their losse â—â—ey carrie me to my most
youth and fiercenesse seek thy face At first thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses I had my wish and way My dayes were straw'd with flow'rs and happinesse There was no moneth but May. But with my yeares sorrow did twist and grow And made a partie unawares for wo. â—y flesh began unto my soul in pain Sicknesses cleave my bones â—onsuming agues dwell in ev'ry vein And tune my breath to grones â—orrow was all my soul I scarce beleeved â—ill grief did tell me roundly that I lived â—hen I got health thou took'st away my life And more for my friends die â—y mirth and edge was lost a blunted knife Was of more use then I. Thus thinne and lean without a fence or friend â—was blown through with ev'ry storm and winde Whereas my birth and spirit rather took The way that takes the town Thou didst betray me to a lingring book And wrap me in a gown I was entangled in the world of strife Before I had the power to change my life Yet for I threatned oft the siege to raise Not simpring all mine age Thou often didst with Academick praise Melt and dissolve my rage I took thy sweetned pill till I came neare I could not go away nor persevere Yet left perchance I should too happie be In my unhappinesse Turning my purge to food thou throwest me Into more sicknesses Thus doth thy power crosse-bias me not making Thine own gift good yet me from my wayes taking Now I am here what thou wilt do with me None of my books will show I reade and sigh and wish I were a tree For sure then I should grow To fruit or shade at least some bird would trust Her houshold to me and I should be just Yet though thou troublest me I must be meek In weaknesse must be stout Well I will change the service and go seek Some other master out Ah my deare God! though I am clean forgot Let me not love thee if I love thee not ¶ Repentance LOrd I confesse my sinne is great Great is my sinne Oh! gently treat With thy quick flow'r thy moment anie bloom Whose life still pressing Is one undressing A steadie aiming at a tombe Mans age is two houres work or three Each day doth round about us see Thus are we to delights but we are all To sorrows old If life be told From what life feeleth Adams fall O let thy height of mercie then Compassionate short-breathed men Cut me not off for my most foul transgression I do confesse My foolishnesse My God accept of my confession Sweeten at length this bitter bowl Which thou hast pour'd into my soul â—hy wormwood turn to health windes to fair weather For if thou stay I and this day As we did rise we die together When thou for sinne rebukest man Forthwith he waxeth wo and wan Bitternesse fills our bowels all our hearts Pine and decay And drop away And carrie with them th' other parts But thou wilt sinne and grief destroy That so the broken bones may joy And tune together in a well-set song Full of his praises Who dead men raises Fractures well cur'd make us more strong ¶ Faith LOrd how couldst thou so much appease Thy wrath for sinne as when mans sight was dimme And could see little to regard his ease And bring by Faith all things to him Hungrie I was and had no meat â— did conceit a most delicious feast â— had it straight and did as truly eat As ever did a welcome guest There is a rare outlandish root Which when I could not get I thought it here That apprehension cur'd so well my foot That I can walk to heav'n well neare I owed thousands and much more I did beleeve that I did nothing owe And liv'd accordingly my creditor Beleeves so too and lets me go Faith makes me any thing or all That I beleeve is in the sacred storie And where sinne placeth me in Adams fall Faith sets me higher in his glorie If I go lower in the book What can be lower then the common manger Faith puts me there with him who sweetly took Our flesh and frailtie death and danger If blisse had lien in art or strength None but the wise or strong had gained it Where now by Faith all arms are of a length One size doth all conditions fit A peasant may beleeve as much As a great Clerk and reach the highest stature Thus dost thou make proud knowledge bend crouâ— While grace fills up uneven nature When creatures had no reall light Inherent in them thou didst make the sunne Impute a lustre and allow them bright And in this shew what Christ hath done That which before was darkned clean With bushie groves pricking the lookers eie Vanisht away when Faith did change the scene And then appear'd a glorious skie What though my bodie runne to dust Faith cleaves unto it counting evr'y grain With an exact and most particular trust Reserving all for flesh again ¶ Prayer PRayer the Churches banquet Angels age Gods breath in man returning to his birth The soul in paraphrase heart in pilgrimage â—he Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth â—â—gine against th' Almightie sinners towre Reversed thunder Christ-side-piercing spear The six-daies world-transposing in an houre A kinde of tune which all things heare and fear Softnesse and peace and joy and love and blisse Exalted Manna gladnesse of the best Heaven in ordinarie man well drest The milkie way the bird of Paradise Church-bels beyond the starres heard the souls bloud The land of spices something understood ¶ The H. Communion NOt in rich furniture or fine aray Nor in a wedge of gold Thou who from me wast sold To me dost now thy self convey For so thou should'st without me still have been Leaving within me sinne But by the way of nourishment and strengh Thou creep'st into my breast Making thy way my rest And thy small quantities my length Which spread their forces into every part Meeting sinnes force and art Yet can these not get over to my soul Leaping the wall that parts Our souls and fleshly hearts But as th' outworks they may controll My rebel-flesh and carrying thy name Affright both sinne and shame Onely thy grace which with these elements comes Knoweth the ready way And hath the privie key Op'ning the souls most subtile rooms While those to spirits refin'd at doore attend Dispatches from their friend Give me my captive soul or take My bodie also thither Another lift like this will make Them both to be together Before that sinne turn'd flesh to stone And all our lump to leaven A fervent sigh might well have blown Our innocent earth to heaven For sure when Adam did not know To sinne or sinne to smother He might to heav'n from Paradise go As from one room t'another Thou hast restor'd us to this ease By this thy heav'nly bloud Which I can go to when I please And leave th' earth to their food ¶ Antiphon Cho. LEt all the world
and giving light But since those pipes of gold which brought That cordiall water to our ground Were cut and martyr'd by the fault Of those who did themselves through their side wound Thou shutt'st the doore and keep'st within Scarce a good joy creeps through the chink And if the braves of conqu'ring sinne Did not excite thee we should wholly sink Lord though we change thou art the same The same sweet God of love and light Restore this day for thy great name Unto his ancient and miraculous right ¶ Grace MY stock lies dead and no increase Doth my dull husbandrie improve O let thy graces without cease Drop from above If still the sunne should hide his face Thy house would but a dungeon prove Thy works nights captives O let grace Drop from above The dew doth ev'ry morning fall And shall the dew out-strip thy dove The dew for which grasse cannot call Drop from above Death is still working like a mole And digs my grave at each remove Let grace work too and on my soul Drop from above Sinne is still hammering my heart Unto a hardnesse void of love Let suppling grace to crosse his art Drop from above 〈◊〉 come for thou dost know the way â—r if to me thou wilt not move â—emove me where I need not say Drop from above ¶ Praise TO write a verse or two is all the praise That I can raise Mend my estate in any wayes Thou shalt have more 〈◊〉 go to Church help me to wings and I Will thither flie Or if I mount unto the skie I will do more â—an is all weaknesse there is no such thing As Prince or King His arm is short yet with a sling He may do more â—n herb destill'd and drunk may dwell next doore On the same floore To a brave soul Exalt the poore They can do more O raise me then poore bees that work all day Sting my delay Who have a work as well as they And much much more ¶ Affliction KIll me not ev'ry day â—hou Lord of life since thy one death for me Is more then all my deaths can be Though I in broken pay â—ie over each houre of Methusalems stay If all mens tears were let Into one common sewer sea and brine What were they all compar'd to thiâ—â— Wherein if they were set They would discolour thy most bloudy sweat Thou art my grief alone Thou Lord conceal it not and as thou art All my delight so all my smart Thy crosse took up in one By way of imprest all my future mone ¶ Mattens I Cannot ope mine eyes But thou art ready there to catch My morning-soul and sacrifice Then we must needs for that day make a match My God what is a heart Silver or gold or precious stone Or starre or rainbow or a part Of all these things or all of them in one My God what is a heart That thou shouldst it so eye and wooe Powring upon it all thy art As if that thou hadst nothing els to do Indeed mans whole estate Amounts and richly to serve thee He did not heav'n and earth create Yet studies them not him by whom they be Teach me thy love to know That this new light which now I see May both the work and workman show Then by a sunne-beam I will climbe to thee ¶ Sinne. O That I could a sinne once see We paint the devil foul yet he Hath some good in him all agree Sinne is flat opposite to th' Almighty seeing â—t wants the good of vertue and of being But God more care of us hath had If apparitions make us sad By sight of sinne we should grow mad Yet as in sleep we see foul death and live So devils are our sinnes in perspective ¶ Even-song BLest be the God of love Who gave me eyes and light and power this day Both to be busie and to play But much more blest be God above Who gave me sight alone Which to himself he did denie For when he sees my waies I dy But I have got his sonne and he hath none What have I brought thee home For this thy love have I discharg'd the debt Which this dayes favour did beget I ranne but all I brought was â—ome Thy diet care and cost Do end in bubbles balls of winde Of winde to thee whom I have crost But balls of wilde-fire to my troubled minde Yet still thou goest on And now with darknesse closest wearie eyes Saying to man It doth suffice Henceforth repose your work is done Thus in thy Ebony box Thou dost inclose us till the day Put our amendment in our way And give new wheels to our disorder'd clocks I muse which shows more love The day or night that is the gale this th'harbour That is the walk and this the arbour Or that the garden this the grove My God thou art all love Not one poore minute scapes thy breast But brings a favour from above And in this love more then in bed I rest ¶ Church-monuments WHile that my soul repairs to her devotion Here I intombe my flesh that it betimes May take acquaintance of this heap of dust To which the blast of deaths incessant motion Fed with the exhalation of our crimes Drives all at last Therefore I gladly trust My bodie to this school that it may learn To spell his elements and finde his birth Written in dustie heraldrie and lines Which dissolution sure doth best discern Comparing dust with dust and earth with earth These laugh at Ieat and Marble put for signes â—o sever the good fellowship of dust â—nd spoil the meeting What shall point out them â—hen they shall bow and kneel and fall down flat â—o kisse those heaps which now they have in trust â—eare flesh while I do pray learn here thy stemme â—nd true descent that when thou shalt grow fat â—nd wanton in thy cravings thou mayst know â—hat flesh is but the glasse which holds the dust That measures all our time which also shall â—e crumbled into dust Mark here below â—ow tame these ashes are how free from lust That thou mayst fit thy self against thy fall ¶ Church-musick SWeetest of sweets I thank you when displeasure Did through my bodie wound my minde You took me thence and in your house of pleasure A daintie lodging me assign'd Now I in you without a bodie move Rising and falling with your wings We both together sweetly live and love Yet say sometimes God help poore Kings Comfort ' I le die for if you poste from me Sure I shall do so and much more But if I travell in your companie You know the way to heavens doore ¶ Church-lock and key I Know it is my sinne which locks thine eares And bindes thy hands Out-crying my requests drowning my tears Or else the chilnesse of my faint demands But as cold hands are angrie with the fire And mend it still So I do lay the want of my desire Not on my sinnes or coldnesse but thy will
keeps his constant way Whom others faults do not defeat But though men fail him yet his part doth play Whom nothing can procure When the wide world runnes bias from his will To writhe his limbes and share not mend the ill This is the Mark-man safe and sure Who still is right and prayes to be so still ¶ Affliction MY heart did heave and there came forth O God By that I knew that thou wast in the grief To guide and govern it to my relief Making a scepter of the rod Hadst thou not had thy part Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart 〈◊〉 since thy breath gave me both life and shape â—ou knowst my tallies and when there 's assign'd 〈◊〉 much breath to a sigh what 's then behinde Or if some yeares with it escape The sigh then onely is â—ale to bring me sooner to my blisse â—y life on earth was grief and thou art still â—nstant unto it making it to be â—â—oint of honour now to grieve in me And in thy members suffer ill They who lament one crosse Thou dying dayly praise thee to thy losse ¶ The Starre BRight spark shot from a brighter place Where beams surround my Saviours face Canst thou be any where So well as there â—et if thou wilt from thence depart Take a bad lodging in my heart For thou canst make a debter And make it better First with thy fire-work burn to dust Folly and worse then folly lust Then with thy light refine And make it shine â—o disengag'd from sinne and sicknesse Touch it with thy celestiall quicknesse That it may hang and move After thy love Then with our trinitie of light Motion and heat let 's take our flight Unto the place where thou Before didst bow Get me a standing there and place Among the beams which crown the face Of him who dy'd to part Sinne and my heart That so among the rest I may Glitter and curle and winde as they That winding is their fashion Of adoration Sure thou wilt joy by gaining me To flie home like a laden bee Unto that hive of beams And garland-streams ¶ Sunday O Day most calm most bright The fruit of this the next worlds bud Th' indorsement of supreme delight Writ by a friend and with his bloud The couch of time cares balm and bay The week were dark but for thy light Thy torch doth show the way The other dayes and thou â—â—ke up one man whose face thou art â—ocking at heaven with thy brow â—â—e worky-daies are the back-part â—he burden of the week lies there â—aking the whole to stoup and bow Till thy release appeare Man had straight forward gone â—o endlesse death but thou dost pull â—nd turn us round to look on one â—hom if we were not very dull â—e could not choose but look on still â—ince there is no place so alone The which he doth not fill Sundaies the pillars are On which heav'ns palace arched lies The other dayes fill up the spare And hollow room with vanities They are the fruitfull beds and borders In Gods rich garden that is bare Which parts their ranks and orders The Sundaies of mans life Thredded together on times string Make bracelets to adorn the wife Of the eternall glorious King On Sunday heavens gate stands ope Blessings are plentifull and rife More plentifull then hope This day my Saviour rose And did inclose this light for his That as each beast his manger knows Man might not of his fodder misse Christ hath took in this piece of ground And made a garden there for those Who want herbs for their wound The rest of our Creation Our great Redeemer did remove With the same shake which at his passion Did th' earth and all things with it move As Samson bore the doores away Christs hands though nail'd wrought our salvation And did unhinge that day The brightnesse of that day We sullied by our foul offence Wherefore that robe we cast away Having a new at his expence Whose drops of bloud paid the full price That was requir'd to make us gay And fit for Paradise Thou art a day of mirth And where the week-dayes trail on ground Thy flight is higher as thy birth O let me take thee at the bound Leaping with thee from sev'n to sev'n Till that we both being toss'd from earth Flie hand in hand to heav'n ¶ Avarice MOney thou bane of blisse sourse of wo Whence com'st thou that thou art so fresh and fine 〈◊〉 know thy parentage is base and low 〈…〉 poore and dirtie in a mine â—urely â—â—ou didst so little contribute To this great kingdome which thou now hast got That he was fain when thou wert destitute â—o digge thee out of thy dark cave and grot â—hen forcing thee by fire he made thee bright Nay thou hâ—st got the face of man for we Have with out stamp and seal transferr'd our right Thou art the man and man but drosse to thee Man calleth thee his wealth who made thee rich And while he digs out thee falls in the ditch Anagram MARY ARMY HOw well her name an Army doth present In whom the Lord of hosts did pitch his tent ¶ To all Angels and Saints OH glorious spirits who after all your bands See the smooth face of God without a frown Or strict commands Where ev'ry one is king and hath his crown If not upon his head yet in his hands Not out of envie or maliciousnesse Do I forbear to crave your speciall aid I would addresse My vows to thee most gladly blessed Maid And Mother of my God in my distresse Thou art the holy mine whence came the gold The great restorative for all decay In young and old Thou art the cabinet where the jewell lay Chiefly to thee would I my soul unfold But now alas I dare not for our King Whom we do all joyntly adore and praise Bids no such thing And where his pleasure no injunction layes 'T is your own case ye never move a wing All worship is prerogative and a flower Of his rich crown from whom lyes no appeal At the last houre Therefore we dare not from his garland steal To make a posie for inferiour power Although then others court you if ye know What 's done on earth we shall not fare the worse Who do not so Since we are ever ready to disburse If any one our Masters hand can show ¶ Employment HE that is weary let him sit My soul would stirre And trade in courtesies and wit Quitting the furre To cold complexions needing it 〈◊〉 is noâ—â—â—rre but a quick coal Of mortall fire 〈◊〉 blows it not nor doth controll A faint desire 〈◊〉 his own ashes choke his soul. â—â—en th' elements did for place contest With him whose will â—â—â—dain'd the highest to be best The earth sat still â—â—d by the others is opprest â—â—fe is a businesse not good cheer Ever in warres â—â—e sunne still shineth there or here Whereas the starres â—atch an advantage to appeare
precious bloud Gave you a colour once which when your foes Thought to let out the bleeding did you good And made you look much fresher then before But when debates and fretting jealousies Did worm and work within you more and more Your colour faded and calamities Turned your ruddie into pale and bleak Your health and beautie both began to break Then did your sev'rall parts unloose and start Which when your neighbours saw like a north-winde They rushed in and cast them in the dirt Where Pagans tread O Mother deare and kinde Where shall I get me eyes enough to weep As many eyes as starres since it is night And much of Asia and Europe fast asleep And ev'n all Africk would at least I might With these two poore ones lick up all the dew Which falls by night and poure it out for you ¶ Justice O Dreadfull Justice what a fright and terrour Wast thou of old When sinne and errour Did show and shape thy looks to me And through their glasse discolour thee He that did but look up was proud and bold The dishes of thy ballance seem'd to gape Like two great pits The beam and scape Did like some tort'ring engine show Thy hand above did burn and glow Danting the stoutest hearts the proudest wits But now that Christs pure vail presents the sight I see no fears Thy hand is white Thy scales like buckets which attend And interchangeably descend Lifting to heaven from this well of tears For where before thou still didst call on me Now I still touch And harp on thee Gods promises have made thee mine Why should I justice now decline Against me there is none but for me much ¶ The Pilgrimage I Travell'd on seeing the hill where lay My expectation A long it was and weary way The gloomy cave of Desperation I left on th' one and on the other side The rock of Pride And so I came to phansies medow strow'd With many a flower Fain would I here have made abode But I was quicken'd by my houre So to cares cops I came and there got through With much ado That led me to the wilde of passion which Some call the wold A wasted place but sometimes rich Here I was robb'd of all my gold Save one good Angell which a friend had ti'd Close to my side At length I got unto the gladsome hill Where lay my hope Where lay my heart and climbing still When I had gain'd the brow and top A lake of brackish waters on the ground Was all I found With that abash'd and struck with many a sting Of swarming fears I fell and cry'd Alas my King Can both the way and end be tears Yet taking heart I rose and then perceiv'd I was deceiv'd My hill was further so I flung away Yet heard a crie Just as I went None goes that way And lives If that be all said I After so foul a journey death is fair And but a chair ¶ The Holdfast I Threatned to observe the strict decree Of my deare God with all my power might But I was told by one it could not be Yet I might trust in God to be my light Then will I trust said I in him alone Nay ev'n to trust in him was also his We must confesse that nothing is our own Then I confesse that he my succour is But to have nought is ours not to confesse That we have nought I stood amaz'd at this Much troubled till I heard a friend expresse That all things were more ours by being his What Adam had and forfeited for all Christ keepeth now who cannot fail or fall ¶ Complaining DO not beguile my heart Because thou art My power and wisdome Put me not to shame Because I am Thy clay that weeps thy dust that calls Thou art the Lord of glorie The deed and storie Are both thy due but I a silly flie That live or die According as the weather falls Art thou all justice Lord Shows not thy word More attributes Am I all throat or eye To weep or crie Have I no parts but those of grief Let not thy wrathfull power Afflict my houre My inch of life or let thy gracious power Contract my houre That I may climbe and finde relief ¶ The Discharge BUsie enquiring heart what wouldst thou know Why dost thou prie And turn and leer and with a licorous eye Look high and low And in thy lookings stretch and grow Hast thou not made thy counts and summ'd up all Did not thy heart Give up the whole and with the whole depart Let what will fall That which is past who can recall Thy life is Gods thy time to come is gone And is his right He is thy night at noon he is at night Thy noon alone The crop is his for he hath sown And well it was for thee when this befell That God did make Thy businesse his and in thy life partake For thou canst tell If it be his once all is well Onely the present is thy part and fee. And happy thou If though thou didst not beat thy future brow Thou couldst well see What present things requir'd of thee They ask enough why shouldst thou further go Raise not the mudde Of future depths but drink the cleare and good Dig not for wo In times to come for it will grow Man and the present fit if he provide He breaks the square This houre is mine if for the next I care I grow too wide And do encroach upon deaths side For death each houre environs and surrounds He that would know And care for future chances cannot go Unto those grounds But through a Church-yard which thē boūds Things present shrink and die but they that spend Their thoughts and sense On future grief do not remove it thence But it extend And draw the bottome out an end God chains the dog till night wilt loose the chain And wake thy sorrow Wilt thou forestall it and now grieve to morrow And then again Greive over freshly all thy pain Either grief will not come or if it must Do not forecast And while it cometh it is almost past Away distrust My God hath promis'd he is just ¶ Praise KIng of Glorie King of Peace I will love thee And that love may never cease I will move thee Thou hast granted my request Thou haft heard me Thou didst note my working breast Thou hast spar'd me Wherefore with my utmost art I will sing thee And the cream of all my heart I will bring thee Though my sinnes against me cried Thou didst cleare me And alone when they replied Thou didst heare me Sev'n whole dayes not one in seven I will praise thee In my heart though not in heaven I can raise thee Thou grew'st soft and moist with tears Thou relentedst And when Justice call'd for fears Thou dissentedst Small it is in this poore sort To enroll thee Ev'n eternitie is too short To extoll thee ¶ An Offering COme bring thy gift If