EMBLEMES CAMBRIDGE Printed by RD for Francis Eglesfeild and are to be sold at the signe of the Marigold in St. Pauls Church-yard 16â—◠〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Haec laus hic apex Sapientiae est ea viventem appetere quae morienti forent appetenda TO My much honoured and no lesse truly beloved Friend EDW. BENLOWES Esquire My dear Friend YOu have put the Theorboe into my hand and I have played You gave the Musician the first encouragement the Musick returneth to you for Patronage Had it been a light Ayre no doubt but it had taken the most and among them the worst But being a grave Strayn my hopes are that it will please the best and among them You. Toyish Ayres please triviall eares They kisse the fancy and betray it They cry Hail first and after Crucifie Let Dorrs delight to immerd themselves in dungwhilest Eagles scorn so poore a Game as Flies Sir you have Art and Candour Let the one judge let the other excuse Your most affectionate Friend FRA. QUARLES What heere wee see is but a graven face Onely the shaddow of yt brittle case Wherein were treasurd up those gems wch he Hath left behind him to Posterity To the Reader AN Embleme is but a silent Parable Let not the tender Eye check to see the allusion to our blessed Saviour figured in these Types In holy Scripture he is sometimes called a Sower sometimes a Fisher sometimes a Physician And why not presented so as well to the eye as to the eare Before the knowledge of letters God was known by Hieroglyphicks And indeed what are the Heavens the Earth â—…ay every Creature but Hieroglyphicks and Emblemes of His Glory I have no more to say I wish thee as much pleasure in the reading as I had in the writing Farewell Reader BY Fathers back'd by Holy Writ led on Thou shew'st a way to Heav'n by Helicon The Muses Font is consecrate by Thee And Poesie baptiz'd Divinitie Blest soul that here embark'st Thou sail'st apace 'T is hard to say mov'd more by Wit or Grace Each Muse so plyes her Oar but O the Sail Is fill'd from Heav'n with a Diviner Gale When Poets prove Divines why should not I Approve in Verse this Divine Poetry Let this suffice to licence thee the Presse I must no more nor could the Truth say lesse Sic approbavit RICH. LOVE Procan Cantabrigiensis Tot Flores QUARLES quot Paradisus habet Lectori bene-male-volo Qui legit ex Horto hoc Flores Qui carpit Utâ—rque Jure potest VIOLAS dicere jure ROSAS Non è Parnasso VIOLAM Paestive ROSETO Carpit Apollo magìs quae sit amoena ROSAM Quot Versus VIOLAS legis Quem verba loâ—â—â—â—um Credis verbà dedit Nam dedit Ille ROSAS Utque Ego non dicam haec VIOLAS suavissima Tâ—â—â— Ipse facis VIOLAS Livide si violas Nam velu◠è VIOLIS sibi sugit Araâ—ea virus Vertis ità in succos Hasque ROSASque tuos Quas violas Mùâ—as VIOLAS puto quasque recusaâ— Dente tuo rosas has reor esse ROSAS Sic rosas facis esse ROSAS dùm 〈◊〉 rodis Sic facis has VIOLAS Livide dum violas Brent Hall 1634. EDVV. BENLOVVES THE FIRST BOOK The Invocation ROwze thee my soul and drein thee from the dregs Of vulgar thoughts Skrue up the heightned pegs Of thy sublime Theorboe foure notes higher And higher yet that so the 〈◊〉 mouth'd Quire Of swift-wing'd Seraphims may come and joyn And make thy consort more than halfe divine Invoke no Muse Let heav'n be thy Apollo And let his sacred influences hallow Thy high-bred strains Let his full beams inspite Thy ravish'd brains with more heroick 〈◊〉 Snatch thee a Quill from the spread Eagles wing And like the morning Lark mount up and sing Cast off these dangling plummets that so clog Thy lab'ring heart which gropes in this dark fog Of dungeon-earth Let flesh and bloud 〈◊〉 To stop thy flight till this base world appear A thin blew Lanskip Let thy pineons sore So high a pitch that men may seem no more Than Pismires crawling on this Mole-hill earth Thy eare untroubled with their frantick mirth Let not the frailtie of thy flesh disturb Thy new-concluded peace Let Reason 〈◊〉 Thy hot-mouth'd Passion and let heav'ns fire season The fresh Conceits of thy corrected Reason Disdain to warm thee at Lusts smokie fires Scorn scorn to feed on thy old bloat desires Come come my soul hoyse up thy higher sails The wind blowes fair Shall we still creep like Snails That gild their wayes with their own native slimes No we must flie like Eâ—…gles and our Rhimes Must mount â—…o heav'n and reach th' Olympick eaâ—… Our heav'n-blown fire must seek no other Sphear Thou great Theanthropos that giv'st and ground'st Thy gifts in dust and from out dunghill crown'st Reflected Honour taking by retail What thou hast giv'n in grosse from lapsed frail And sinfull man that drink'st full draughts wherein Thy Childrens leprous fingers scurf'd with Sin Have padled cleanse O cleanse my crafty Soul From secret crimes and let my thoughts controul My thoughts O teach me stoutly to deny My self that I may be no longer I Enrich my fancie clarifie my thoughts Resine my drosse O wink at humane faults And through this slender conduit of my Quill Convey thy Current whose clear streams may fill The hearts of men with love their tongues with prayse Crown me with Glory Take who list the Bayes I. JAM 1. 14. Every man is tempted when he is drawn away by his own lust and enticed Serpent Eve Serp. NOt eat Not tast Not touch Not cast an eye Upon the fruit of this faiâ—… Tree And why Why eat'st thou not what Heav'n ordain'd for food Or canst thou think that bad which heav'n call'd Good Why was it made if not to be enjoy'd Neglect of favours makes a favour void Blessings unus'd pervert into a Wast As well as Surfets Woman Do but tast See how the laden boughs make silent suit To be enjoy'd Look how their bending fruit Meet thee half-way Observe but how they crouch To kisse thy hand Coy woman Do but touch Maâ—…k what a pure Vermilion blush has dy'd Their swelling cheeks and how for shame they hide Their palsie heads to see themselves stand by Neglected Woman Do but cast an eye What bounteous heav'n ordain'd for use refuse not Come pull and eat Y' abuse the thing ye use not Eve Wisest of Beasts our great Creatour did Reserve this Tree and this alone forbid The rest are freely ours which doubtlesse are As pleasing to the tast toth' eye as fair But touching this his strict commands are such T is death to tast no lesse than death to touch Serp. Pish death 's a fable Did not heav'n inspire Your equall Elements with living Fire Blown from the spring of life Is not that breath Immortall Come ye are as free from death As He that made ye Can the flames expire Which he has kindled
châ—…ldren whine for toyes S. BERN. That is the true and chief joy which is not conceived from the creature but received from the Creatoâ—… which being once possest thereof none can take from thee whereto all pleasâ—…e being compared is torment all joy is grief sweet things are bitter all glory is baâ—…enesse and all deâ—…ectable things are despicable S. BERN. Joy in a changeable subject must necessarily change as the subject changeth EPIG. 8. Peace childish Cupid peace thy singer'd eye But crios for what in time will make thee cry But are thy peevish wranglings thus appeas'd Well maist thou cry that art so poorely pleas'd IX ISAIAH 10. 3. What will ye do in the day of your visitation to whom will ye â—…lie for help and where will ye leave your glory 1 IS this that jolly God whose Cyprian bowe Has shot so many flaming darts And made so many wounded Beauties go Sadly perplext with whimp'ring hearts Is this that Sov'raign Deity that brings The slavish world in awe and stâ—…ngs The blund'ring souls of swains and stoops the hearts of Kings 2 What Circean chaâ—…m what Hecatean spight Has thus abus'd the Gâ—…d of love Great Jove was vanquisht by his greater might And who is stronger-arm'd then Jove Or has our lustâ—…ull god persorm'd a rape And fearing Argus eyes would scape The view of jealous earth in this prodigious shape 3 Where be those rosie cheeks that lately scorn'd The malice of injurious Fates Ah where 's that pearl Percullis that adorn'd Those dainty two-leav'd Ruby gates Where be those killing eyes that so controul'd The world And locks that did infold Like knots of flaming wire like curles of burnisht gold 4 No no 't was neither Heâ—…tean spite Nor charm below nor pow'r above 'T was neither Circes spell nor Stygian sprite That thus transform'd our god of Love 'T was owl-eyed Lust more potent farre then they Whose eyes and actions hate the day Whom all the world observe whom all the world obay 5 Se how the latter Trumpets dreadfull blast Affrights stout Mars his tâ—…embling son Se how he startles how he stands agast And scrambles from his melting Throne Hark how the direfull hand of vengeance tears The swelt'ring clouds whilst Heav'n appears A ciâ—…cle fill'd with flame and center'd with his fears 6 This is that day whose oft report hath woâ—…n Neglected tongues of Prophets bare The faithlesse subject of the worldlings scorn The summe of men and Angels pray'r This this the day whose All-discerning light Ransacks the secret dens of night And severs good from bad true joyes from false delight 7 You grov'ling worldings you whose wisdome trades Where light nev'r shot his golden â—…ay That hide your actions in Cimeriâ—…n â—…des How will your eyes indure this day Hills will be deaf and mountains will not heaâ—… There be no caves no corners there To shade your souls from fire to shield your hearts from fear HUGO O the extreme loath loathsomnesse of fleshly lust which not onely â—…sseminates the mind but eneâ—…ves the body which not onely diâ—…taineth the soul but disguiseth the 〈◊〉 It is â—…hered with fury and wantonnesse it is accompanied with â—…ury and wantonnesse and it is followed with grief and râ—…ntance EPIG. 9. What sweet-fac'd Cupid has thy bastard-treasure Thy boasted honours and thy bold-fac'd pleasure Perplext thee now I told thee long ago To what they 'd bring thee fool To wit to woe X. NAHâ—…M 2. 10. She is emptie and void and waste 1 SHe 's emptie hark she sounds there 's nothing there But noyse to fill thy eare Thy vain enquiry can at length but find A blast of murm'ring wind It is a cask that seems as full as fair But merely tunn'd with aire Fond youth go build thy hopes on better grounds The soul that vainly founds Her joyes upon this world but feeds on emptie sounds 2 She 's emptie hark she sounds there 's nothing in 't The spark-ingend'ring â—…lint Shall sooner melt and hardest raunce shall first Dissolve and quench thy thirst E'r this false world shall still thy stormy breast With smooth fac'd calms of rest Thou mayst as well expect Meridian light From shades of black-mouth'd night As in this emptie world to find a full delight 3 She 's empty hark she sounds 't is void and vast What if some flatt'ring blast Of flatâ—…ous honour should perchance be there And whisper in thine earâ—… It is but wind and blows but where it list And vanishâ—…s like a mist Poore honour earth can give What gen'rous mind Would be so base to bind Her Heav'n-bred soul a slave to serve a blast of wind 4 She 's empty hark she sounds 't is but a ball For fools to play withall The painted silm but of a stronger bubble That 's lin'd with silken trouble It is a world whose work and recreation Is vanity and vexation A Hagg repair'd with vice-complexion paint A quest-house of complaint It is a saint a fiend worse fiend when most a saint 5 She 's empty hark she â—…ounds 't is vain and void What 's here to be enjoyed But grief and sicknesse and large bills of sorrow Drawn now and crost to morrow Or what are men but puffs of dying breath Reviv'd with living death Fond laâ—… O build thy hopes on surer grounds Then what dull flesh propounds Truâ—… not this hollow world she 's empty hark she sounds S. CHRYS. in Ep. ad Heb. Contemne riches and thou shalt be rich contemne glory and thou shalt be glorious contemne injuries and thou shalt be a conquerour consemne rest and thou shalt gain rest contemne earth and thou shalt find Heaven EPIG. lib. de Vanit mundi The world is a vanity which affordeth neither beauty to the amorous nor reward to the laborious nor incouragement to the industrious EPIG. 10. This house is to be let for life or years Her rent is sorrow and her In-come tears Cupid 't 'as long stood void her bills make known She must be dearly let or let alone XI MATTHEW 7. 14. Narrow is the way that leadeth unto life and few there be that find it PRepost'rous fool thou troul'st amisse Thou err'st that 's not the way 't is this Thy hopes instructed by thine eye Make thee appear more near then I My floore is not so flat so fine And has more obvious rubs then thine 'T is true my way is hard and strait And leads me through a thorny â—…ate Whose ranckling pricks are sharp and fell The common way to Heav'n 's by hell 'T is true thy path is short and fair And free of rubs Ah fool beware The safest road 's not alwayes ev'n The way to Hell 's a seeming Heav'n Think'st thou the Crown of Glory 's had With idle ease fond Cyprian lad Think'st thou that mirth and vain delights High feed and shadow-shortning nights Soft knees full bones and beds of down Are proper Prologues to a Crown Or canst thou hope to come and view Like prosperous Caesar and subdue The
Without a tenter It is a vast Circumference where none Can find a Center Of more then earth can earth make none possest And he that least Regards this restlesse world shall in this world find rest 5 True rest consists not in the oft revying Of worldly drosse Earths miâ—…ie purchase is not worth the buying Her gain is losse Her rest but giddy toil if not relying Upon her crosse How worldlings droil for trouble That fond breast That is possest Of earth without a crosse has earth without a rest CASS. in Ps. The Crosse is the invincible sanctuary of the humble The dejection of the proud the victory of Christ the destruction of the devil the confirmation of the faithfull the death of the unbeliever the life of the just DAMASCEN The Crosse of Christ is the key of Paradise the weak mans staff the Converts convoy the upright mans perfection the soul and bodies health the prevention of all evil and the 〈◊〉 of all good EPIG. 6. Worldlings whose whimpring folly holds the losses Of honour pleasure health and wealth such crosses Look here and tell me what your Arms engrosse When the best end of what ye hug's a crosse VII 1. PETER 5. 8. Be sober be vigilant because your adversary the devil as a roring Lion walketh about seeking whom he may devoure 1 WHy dest thou suffer lustfull sloth to creep Dull Cyprian lad into thy wanton browes Is this a time to pay thine idle vowes At Morpheus shrine Is this a time to sleep Thy brains in wastfull slumbers up and rouze Thy leaden spirits Is this a time to sleep Adjourn thy sanguine dreams Awake arise Call in thy thoughts and let them all advise Hadst thou as many Heads as thou hast wounded eyes 2 Look look what horrid furies do await Thy slatt'ring slumbers If thy drowzie head But chance to nod thou fall'st into a bed Of sulph'rous flames whose torments want a date Foâ—…d boy be wise let not thy thoughts be fed With Phrygian wisdome fools are wise too late Beware betimes and let thy reason sever Those gates which passion clos'd wake now or never For if thou nodd'st thou fall'st and falling fall'st for ever 3 Mark how the ready hands of death prepare His bow is bent and he has notch'd his dart He aims he levels at thy slumb'ring heart The wound is posting O be wise beware What has the voyce of danger lost the art To raise the spirit of neglected care Well sleep thy fill and take thy soft reposes But know withall sweet tasts have sowre closes And he repents in thorns that sleeps in beds of roses 4 Yet sluggard wake and gull thy soul no more With earths false pleasure and the worlds delight Whose fruit is fair and pleasing to the sight But sowre in tast false at the putrid core Thy flaring glasse is gems at her halflight She makes thee seeming rich but truly poore She boasts a kernell and bestowes a shell Performs an inch of her fair promis'd ell Her words protest a Heav'n her works produce a hell 5 O thou the fountain of whose better part Is earth'd and gravell'd up with vain desire That dayly wallow'st in the fleshly mire And base pollution of a lustfull heart That feel'st no passion but in wanton fire And own'st no torment but from Cupids dart Behold thy Type Thou sitst upon this ball Of earth secure while death that flings at all Stands arm'd to strike thee down where flames attend thy fall S. BERN. Securitie is no where It is neither in Heaven nor in Paradise much lesse in the world In Heaven the Angels sell from the divine presence in Paradise Adam sell from his place of pleasure in the world Judas sell from the School of our Saviour HUGO I eat secure I drink secure I sleep secure even as though I had past the day of death avoided the day of judgement and escaped the torments of hell-fire I play and laugh as though I were already triumphing in the kingdome of Heaven EPIG. 7. Get up my soul Redeem thy slavish eyes From drowzy bondage O beware Be wise Thy fo 's before thee thou must sight or flie Life lies most open in a closed eye VIII LUKE 6. 25. Woe be to you that laugh now for ye shall mourn and weep THe world 's a popular disease that reignes Within the froward heart and frantick brains Of poore distemper'd mortals oft arising From ill digestion through th' unequall poysing Of ill-weigh'd Elements whose light directs Malignant humours to maligne effects One raves and labours with a â—…oyling liver Rends hair by handfuls cursing Cupids quiver Another with a bloudy-slux of oaths Vowes deep revenge one dotes the other loathes One frisks and sings and vies a slagon more To drench dry cares and makes the welkin rore Another droops the sunshine makes him sad Heav'n cannot please One 's mop'd the tother 's mad One hugs his gold another lets it slie He knowing not for whom nor tother why One spends his day in plots his night in play Another sleeps and slugs both night and day One laughs at this thing tother cries for that But neither one nor tother knowes for what Wonder of wonders What we ought t' evite As our disease we hug as our delight 'T is held a symptome of approching danger When disacquainted Sense becomes a stranger And takes no knowledge of an old disease But when a noysome grief begins to please The unresisting sense it is a fear That death has parli'd and compounded there As when the dreadfull Thund'rers awfull hand Powres forth a vâ—…all on th' infected land At first th' affrighted Mortalls quake and fear And ev'ry noise is thought the Thunderer But when the frequent soul-departing bell Has pav'd their ears with her familiar knell It is reputed but a nine dayes wonder They neither fear the Thund'rer nor his Thunder So when the world a worse disease began To smart for sinne poore new-created Man Could seek for shelter and his gen'rous Sonne Knew by his wages what his hands had done But bold-fac'd Mortalls in our blushlesse times Can sinne and smile and make a sport of crimâ—… Transgresse of custome and rebell in ease We false-joy'd fools can triumph in disease And as the carelesse Pilgrime being bit By the Tarantula begins a sit Of life concluding laughter wast our breath In lavish pleasure till we laugh to death HUGO de anima What profit is there in vain glory momentany mirth the worlds power the â—…leshes pleasure â—…ll riches noble descent and great desires Where is their laughter Where is their mirâ—…h Where their insolence their arrogance From how much joy to how much sadnesse After how much mirth how much misery From how great glory are they 〈◊〉 to how great torments What hath â—…allen to them may bâ—…fall thee because thou art a man Thou art of earth thou liveâ—…l of earth thou shalt return to earth Death expecteth thee every-where be wise therefore and expect death every-where
EPIG. 8. What ayls the fool to laugh Does something please His vain conceit Or is 't a mere disease Fool giggle on and wast thy wanton breath Thy morning laughter breeds an ev'ning death IX 1. JOHN 2. 17. The world passeth away and all the lusts thereof 1 DRaw near brave sparks whose spirits scorn to light Your hallow'd tapours but at honours flame You whose heroick actions take delight To varnish over a new-painted name Whose high-bred thoughts disdain to take their slight But on th' Icarian wings of babbling fame Behold how tott'ring are your high-built stories Of earth whereon you trust the ground-work of your glories 2 And you more brain-sick Lovers that can prise A wanton smile before eternall joyes That know no heav'n but in your Mistresse eyes That feel no pleasure but what sense enjoyes That can like crown-distemper'd fools despise True riches and like babies whine for toyes Think ye the Pageants of your hopes are able To stand secure â—…n earth when earth it self 's unstable 3 Come dunghill worldlings you that â—…oot like swine And cast up golden trenches where ye come Whose onely pleasure is to undermine And view the secrets of your mothers wombe Come bring your Saint pâ—…uch'd in his leather â—…hrine And summon all yoâ—… griping Angels home Behold your world the bank of all your store The world 〈◊〉 so admire the worlâ—… ye so adore 4 A feeble world whose hot-mouth'd pleasures tire Before the race before the start retrait A faithlesse world whose false delights expire Before the term of half their promis'd date A fickle world not worth the least desire Where ev'ry chance proclaims a change of State A feeble faithlesse sickle world wherein Each motion proves a vice and ev'ry act a sin 5 The beautie that of late was in her flowre Is now a ruine not to raise a lust He that was lately drench'd in 〈◊〉 showre Is master now of neither gold nor trust Whose honour late was mann'd with princely powre His glory now lies buried in the dust O who would trust this world or prize what 's in it That gives and takes and chops and changes ev'ry minit 6 Nor length of dayes nor solid strength of brain Can find a place wherein to rest secure The world is various and the earth is vain There 's nothing certain here there 's nothing sure We trudge we travel but from pain to pain And what 's our onely grief's 〈◊〉 onely cure The world 's a torment he that would endeaver To find the way to rest must seek the way to leave her S. GREG. in ho Behold the world is withered in it self yet flourisheth in our hearts every where death every where grief every where 〈◊〉 On every side we are smitten on every side filled with bitternesse and yet with the blind mind of carnall desire we love her bitternesse It 〈◊〉 and we follow it it falleth yet we stick to it And because we 〈◊〉 enjoy it fallen we sall with it and enjoy it sallen 〈◊〉 9. If Fortune hale or envious Time but spurn The world turns round and with the world we turn When Fortune sees and Lynx-ey'd Time is blind I 'll trust trust thy joyes O world till then the wind X. JOHN 8. 44. Ye are of your father the devil and the lusts of your father ye will do HEre 's your right ground wagge gently o'r this black 'T is a short cast y' are quickly at the jack Rub rub an inch or two two crowns to one On this bouls side blow wind 't is fairly thrown The next boul 's worse that comes come boul away Mammon you know the ground untutour'd play Your last was gone a yard of strength well spar'd Had touch'd the block your hand is still too hard Brave pastime 〈◊〉 to consume that day Which without pastime slies too swift away See how they labour as if day and night Were both too short to serve their loose delight See how their curved bodies wreath and 〈◊〉 Such antick shapes as Proteus never knew One raps an oath another deals a 〈◊〉 He never better boul'd this never worse One rubs his itchlesse elbow thrugs and laughs The tother bends his beetle-browes and chafes Sometime they whoop sometimes their Stygian cries Send their black-Santos to the blushing skies Thus mingling humours in a mad 〈◊〉 They make bad Premises and worse Conclusion But where 's the Palm that Fortunes hand allowes To blesse the victours honourable 〈◊〉 Come Reader come I 'll light thine eye the way To view the Prize the while the gamesters play Close by the jack behold gill fortune stands Tâ—… wave the game see in her partiall hands The glorious garland's held in open show To chear the Lads and crown the Conq'rours brow The world 's the jack the gamesters that contend Are Cupid Mammon that judicious Friend That gives the ground is Satan and the boules Are sinfull thoughts the Prize a crown for fools Who breathes that boules not what bold tongue can say Without a blush he hath not boul'd to day It is the trade of man and every sinner Has plaid his rubbers Every soule 's a winner The vulgar Proverb 's crost He hardly can Be a good bouler and an honest man Good God turn thou my Brazil thoughts a new New sole my boules and make their bias true I 'll cease to game till fairer ground be given Nor wish to winne untill the mark be heaven S. BERNARD lib. de Consid. O you Sonnes of Adam you covetous generation what have ye to do with earthly riches which are neither true nor yours Gold and silver are reall earth red and white which the onely errour os man makes or rather reputes pretious In short if they be yours carry them with you S. HIEROME in Ep. O Lust thou inferâ—…all fire whose fuell is gluttony whose flame is pride whose sparkles are wanton words whose smoke is infamie whose ashes are uncleannesse whose end is hell EPIG. 10. 〈◊〉 well follow'd Cupid bravely led Both Touchers equall Fortune makes a dead No reed can measure where the conquest lies Take my advise compound and share the Prize XI EPHESIANS 2. 2. Ye walked according to the course of this world according to the Prince of the aire 1 O Whither will this mad-brain world at last Be driv'n where will her restlesse wheels arive Why hurries on her ill-match'd payre so fast O whither means her 〈◊〉 groom to drive What will her â—…ambling sits be never past For ever ranging never once 〈◊〉 Will earths perpetuall progresse ne'r expire Her Team continuing in their fresh careire And yet they never rest and yet they never tire 2 Sols hot-mouth'd steeds whose noslrils vomit flame And brazâ—…n lungs 〈◊〉 forth quotidian fire Their twelve houres task perform'd grow 〈◊〉 and lame And their immortall spirits faint and tire At th' azure mountains foot their labours claim The priviledge of rest where they retire To quench their burning 〈◊〉 and to steep Their flaming nostrils
〈◊〉 or afflicted Jobs She 'll change thy wants to seeming store And turn thy 〈◊〉 to purple robes She 'll make thy hide 〈◊〉 flanck appear As plump as theirs that feast it all the yeare 6 Look off let not thy Opticks 〈◊〉 Abus'd thou seest not what thou should'st Thy self 's the Object thou should'st see But 't is thy shadow thou behold'st And shadows thrive the more in stature The nearer we approch the light of nature 7 Where Heav'ns bright beams look more direct The shadow shrinks as they grow stronger But when they glaunce their fair aspect The 〈◊〉 fac'd shade growes larger longer And when their lamp begins to fall Th' increasing shadows lengthen most of all 8 The soul that seeks the noon of grace Shrinks in but swells if 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 As heav'n 〈◊〉 up or veils his face Our self esteems grow 〈◊〉 or great The least is greatest and who shall Appear the greatest are the least of all HUGO lib. de Anima In vain he lifteth up the eye of his heart to behold his God who is not first rightly advised to behold himself First thou must see the visible things of thy self before thou 〈◊〉 be prepared to know the invisible things of God 〈◊〉 if thou canst not apprehend the things within thee thou canst not comprehend the things above thee The best looking-glasse wherein to see thy God is perfectly to see thy self EPIG. 6. Be not deceiv'd great fool There is no losse In being small great bulks but swell with drosse Man is heav'ns Master-peece If it appear More great the value 's lesse if lesse more dear VII DEUTERONOMY 30. 19. I have set before thee life and death blessing and cursing therefore choose life that thou and thy seed may live 1 THe world 's a Floore whose swelling heaps retein The mingled wages of the Ploughmans toyl The world 's a heap whose yet unwinnowed grain Is lodg'd with chaff and buried in her soyl All things are mixt the usefull with the vain The good with bad the noble with the vile The world 's an Ark wherein things pure and grosse Present their lossefull gain and gainfull losse Where ev'ry dram of gold conteins a pound of drosse 2 This furnisht Ark presents the greedy view With all that earth can give or Heav'n can add Here lasting joyes here pleasures hourely new And hourely fading may be wisht and had All points of Honour counterfeit and true Salute thy soul and wealth both good and bad Here maist thou open wide the two-leav'd doore Of all thy wishes to receive that store Which being empty most does overflow the more 3 Come then my soul approch this royall Burse And see what wares our great Exchange reteins Come come here 's that shall make a firm divorce Betwixt thy wants and thee if want complains No need to sit in councel with thy purse Here 's nothing good shall cost more price then pains But O my soul take heed if thou rely Upon thy faithlesle Opticks thou wâ—…lt buy Too blind a bargain kâ—…ow fools onely trade by th' eye 4 The woâ—…ldly wisdome of the foolish man Is like a sieve that does alone retein The grosser substance of the worthlesse bran But thou my soul let thy brave thoughts disdain So course a purchase O be thou a fan To purge the chaff and keep the winnow'd grain Make clean thy thoughts and dresse thy mixt desires Thou art Heav'ns tasker and thy God requires The purest of thy sloore as well as of thy sires 5 Let grace conduct thee to the paths of peace And wisdome blesse thy souls unblemisht wayes No mattâ—…r then how short or long 's the lease Whose dâ—…te determins thy self-numbred dayes No need to carâ—… for wealths or fâ—…es increase Nor 〈◊〉 his Palm nor high Apollo's Bayes Lord if thy gracious bountie please to fill The 〈◊〉 of my desires and teach me skill To diâ—…e and â—…use the corn take those the chaff that will S. AUGUST lib. 1. de doct. Christi Temporall things more ravish in the expectation then in sâ—…uition but things eternall more in the sruition then expectation Ibideâ—… The life os man is the middle between Angels and beasts Is man takes pleasure in carnall things he is compared to beasts but is he delights in spirituall things he is suited with Angels EPIG. 7. Art thou a child Thou wilt not then be fed But like a child and with the childrens bread But thou art fed with chaff or corn undrest My soul thou savour'st too much of the beast VIII PHILIPPIANS 13. 19. They mind earthly things but our conversation is in Heaven Venus Div. Cupid Ven. WHat means this peâ—…vish brat Whish lullaby What aâ—…ls my babe what ails my babe to cry Will nothing still it will it neither be Pleas'd with the nurses breast nor mothers knee What ails my bird what moves my froward boy To make such whimp'ring faces Peace my joy Will nothing do Come come this pettish brat Thus cry and bawl and cannot tell for what Come busse and friends my lambe whish lullaby What ails my babe what ails my babe to cry Peace peace my dear alas thy early years Had never faults to merit half these teares Come smile upon me Let thy mother spie Thy fathers image in her babies eye Husband these guiltlesle drops against the rage Of harder fortunes and the gripes of age Thine eye 's not ripe â—…or teaâ—…s whish lullaby What ails my babe my sweetâ—… fac'd babe to cry Look look what 's here A dainty golden thing See how the dancing bells turn round and ring To please my bantling here 's a knack will breed A hundred kisses here 's a knack indeed So now my bird is white and looks as fair As Pelops shoulder or my milk-white pair Here 's right the fathers smile when Mars beguil'd Sick Venus of her heart just thus he smil'd Divine Cupid Well may they smile alike thy base-bâ—…ed boy And his base sire had both one cause a toy How well theiâ—… subjects and theiâ—… smilâ—…s agree Thy Cupid finds a toy and Mars found thee â—…alse Queen of beauty Queen of false delights Thy knee presents an â—…mbleme that invites Man to himself whose self-transported heart Ovâ—…rwhelm'd with native sorrows and the smaâ—…t Of purchas'd grieâ—…s lies whining night and day Not knowing why till heavy heâ—…ld delay The dull-brow'd Pander of despaâ—…r layes by His leaden buskins and presents his eye With antick triâ—…les which th' indulgent earth Makes proper objects of mans childish mirth These be the coyn that passe the sweets that please There 's nothing good there 's nothing great but these These be the pipes that base-born minds dance after And turn immod ' rate tears to lavish laughter Whilst Heav'nly rapâ—…res passe without regard Their strings are harsh and their high strains unheaâ—…d The plough-mâ—…ns whistle or the triviall â—…ure â—…ind more respâ—…ct then great Apollo's lute We 'll look to Heav'n and trust to higher joyes Let swine love husks and
lofty strutting steps disdain to tire My antick knees can turn upon the hinges Of Complement and skâ—…ue a thousand cringes 4 â—…ut when I come to Thee my God that art The royall Myne of everlasting treasure The reall Honour of my better part And living Fountain of eternall pleasure How nervelesse are my limbs how faint and flow I have nor wings to fly nor legs to go 5 So when the streams of swift-foot Rhene convay Her upland riches to the Belgick shore The idle vessel slides the wat'ry lay Without the blast or tug of wind or oare Her slipp'ry keel divides the silver fome With ease so facil is the way from home 6 But when the home-bound vessel turns her sails Against the breast of the resisting stream O then she slugs nor sail nor oare prevails The Stream is sturdy and her Tides extreme Each stroke is losse and ev'ry tug is vain A Boat-lengths purchase is a League of pain 7 Great All in All that art my rest my home My way is tedious and my steps are slow Reach forth thy helpfull hand or bid me come I am thy child O teach thy child to go Conjoyn thy sweet commands to my desire And I will venture though I fall or tire S. AUGUST Ser. 15. de Verb. Apost. Be alwayes displeased at what thou art if thou desirest to attain to what thou art not For where thou hast pleased thy self there thou abidest But if thou sayest I have enough thou perishest Alwayes adde alwayes walk alwayes proceed neither stand still nor go back nor deviate He that standeth still proceedeth not He goeth back that continueth not He deviateth that revolteth He goeth better that creepeth in 〈◊〉 way then he that runneth out of his way EPIG. 3. Fear not my Soul to lose for want of cunning Weep not Heav'n is not alwayes got by running Thy thoughts are swist although thy legs be slow True love will creep not having strength to go IV. PSALM 119. 120. My flesh trembleth for fear of thee and I am afraid of thy judgements LEt others boast of luck and go their wayes With their fair game know vengeance seldome playeâ—… To be too forward but doth wisely frame Her backward Tables for an after-game She gives thee leave to venture many a blot And for her own advantage hits thee not But when her pointed Tables are made fair That she be ready for thee then beware Then if a necessary blot be set She hits thee wins the game perchance the set If prosp'rous chances make thy casting high Be wisely temp'rate cast a serious eye On after dangers and keep back thy game Too forward seed-times make thy harvest lame If left-hand Fortune give thee left-hand chances Be wisely patient let no envious glances Repine to view thy gamesters heap so fair The hindmost Hound takes oft the doubling Hare The worlds great Dice are false sometimes they go Extremely high sometimes extremely low Of all her gamesters he that playes the least Lives most at ease playes most secure and best The way to win is to play fair and swear Thy self a servant to the Crown of fear Fear is the Primmer of a Gamesters skill Who fears not Bad stâ—…nds most unarm'd to Ill The Ill that 's wisely fear'd is half withstood And fear of Bad is the best foyl to Good True Fear 's th' Elixar which in dayes of old Turn'd leaden Crosses into Crowns of Gold The World 's the Tables Stakes Eternall life The Gamesters Heav'n and I Unequall strife My Fortunes are my Dice whereby I frame My indisposed Life this Life 's the Game My sinnes are sev'rall Blots the Lookers on Are Angels and in death the Game is done Lord I 'm a Bungler and my Game doth grow Still more and more unshap'd my Dice run low The Stakes are great my carâ—…lesse Blots are many And yet thou passest by and hitst not any Thou art too strong and I have none to guide me With the least jog the lookers on deride me It is a Conquest undeserving Thee To win a Stake from such a Worm as me I have no more to lose If we persever 'T is lost and that once lost I m lost for ever Lord wink at faults and be noâ—… too severe And I will play my Game with greater fear O give me Fear ere Fear has past her date Whose blot being hit then fears fears then too late S. BERN. Ser. 54. in Cant. There is nothing so eâ—…ectuall to obtain Grace to retain Grace and to regain Grace as alwayes to be sound before God nâ—…t over-wise but to â—…ear Happy art thou if thy heart be replenished with three â—…ears a sear for received Grace a gâ—…eater fear for lost Grace a greatest â—…ear to recover Grace S. AUGUST super Psalm Present fear begetteth Eternall securitie Fear God which 〈◊〉 above all and no need to fear man at all EPIG. 4. Lord shall we grumble when thy flames do seourge us Our sinnes breathe fire that fire returns to purge us Lord what an Alchymist art thou whose skill Transmutes to perfect Good from peâ—…fect ill V. PSALM 119. 37. Turn away mine eyes from regarding vanitie 1 HOw like to threds of flax That touch the flame are my inflam'd desires How like to yielding wax My soul dissolves before these wanton â—…ires The fire but touch'd the flame but felt Like flax I burn like wax I melt 2 O how this flesh doth draw My fetter'd soul to that deceitfull â—…ire And how th' eternall Law Is baffled by the law of my desire How truly bad how seeming good Are all the laws of flesh and bloud 3 O wretched state of men The height of whose ambition is to borrow What must be paid agen With griping int'rest of the next dayes sorrow How wild his thoughts How apt to range How apt to vary Apt to change 4 How intricate and nice Is mans perplexed way to mans desire Sometimes upon the ice He slips and sometimes falls into the â—…ire His progresse is extreme and bold Or very hot or very cold 5 The common food he doth Sustain his soul-tormenting thoughts withall Is honey in his mouth To night and in his heart to morrow gall 'T is oftentimes within an houre Both very sweet and very sowre 6 If sweet Corinna smile A Heav'n of joy breaks down into his heart Corinna frowns awhile Hels torments are but copies of his smart Within a lustfull heart doth dwell A seeming Heav'n a very Hell 7 Thus worthlesse vain and void Of comfort are the fruits of earths imployment Which ere they be enjoy'd Distract us and dâ—…stroy us in th' enjoyment These be the pleasures that are priz'd When Heav'ns cheap pen'worth stands despis'd 8 Lord quench these hasty flashes Which dart as lightning from the thund'ring skies And ev'ry minute dashes Against the wanton windows of mine eyes Lord close the casement whilst I stand Behind the curtain of thy hand S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 4. O thou Sun that illuminatest both
Let Hymens easie snarles be quite forgot Time cannâ—…t quench our â—…ites nor death dissolve our knot ORIG. Hom. 10. in divers O most holy Lord and sweetest Master how good art thou to those that are of upright heart and humble spirit O how blessed are they that seek thee with a simple heart How happy that trust in thee It is a most certain truth that thou lovest all that love thee and never forsakest those that trust in thee For behold thy Love simply sought thee and undoubtedly found thee She trusted in thee and is not forsaken of thee but hath obtained more by thee then she expected from thee BEDA in cap. 3. Cant. The longer I was in finding whom I sought the more earnestly I held him beâ—…ng found EPIG. 12. What found him out let strong embraces bind him He 'll fly perchance where tears can never find him New sinnes will lose what old repentance gains Wisedome not onely gets but got retains XIII PSALM 72. 28. It is good for me to draw near to God I have put my trust in the Lord God WHere is that Good which wisemen please to call The Chiefest Doth there any such befall Within mans reach Or is there such a Good at all If such there be it neither must expire Nor change then which there can be nothing higher Such Good must be the utter point of mans desire It is the Mark to which all hâ—…arts must tend Can be desired for no other end Then for it self on which all other goods depend What may this Excellence be doth it subsist A reall Essence clouded in the midst Of cuâ—…ious Art or clear to ev'ry eye that list Or is 't a tart Idea to procure An edge and keep the practick soul in ure Like that dear Chymick dust or puzzling Quadrature Where shall I seek this Good where shall I find This Cath'lick pleasure whose extremes may bind My thoughts and fill the gulf of my insatiate mind Lies it in Treasure In full heaps untold Doth gowty Mammous griping hand infold This secret Saint in sacred shrines of sov'reigne gold No no she lies not there wealth often sowrs In keeping makes us hers in seeming ours She slides from Heav'n indeed but not in Danat's showrs Lives she in honour no The royall Crown Builds up a creature and then batters down Kings raise thee with a smile and raze thee with a frown In pleasure no Pleasure begins in rage Acts the fools part on earths uncertain stage Begins the Play in youth and Epilogues in age These these are bastard-goods the best of these Torment the soul with pleasing it and please Like water gulp'd in fevers with deceitfull ease Earths flatt'ring dainties are but sweet distresses Mole-hils perform the mountains she professes Alas can earth confer more good then earth possesses Mounâ—… mount my soul and let thy thoughts cashier Earths vain delights and make their full carier At Heav'ns eternall joyes stop stop thy Courser there There shall thy soul possesse uncarefull treasure There shalt thou swim in never-sading pleasure And blaze in honour farre above the frowns of Caesar Lord if my hoâ—…e dare let her anchor fall On thee the chiefest Good no need to call For earths inferiour trash Thou thou art All in All S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 13. I follow this thing I pursue that but am filled with nothing But when I found thee who aâ—…t that immutable individed and onely good in my self what I obtained I wanted not for what I obtained not I grieved not with wâ—…at I was possest 〈◊〉 whole desire was 〈◊〉 S. BERN. Ser. 9. sup beati qui habent c. Let others pâ—…etend merit let him bâ—…ag of the burden of the day let him boast of his Sabbath fasts and let him glory that 〈◊〉 is not as other men but for me it is good to cleaâ—…e unto the Lord and to put my trust in my Lord God EPG 13. Let Boâ—…eas blasts and Nepâ—…unes waves be joyn'd Thy Eolus commands the waves the wind Fear not the rocks or worlds imperious waves Thou climbst a rock my soul a rock that saves XIV CANTICLES 2. 3. I sat under his shadow with great delight and his fruit was sweet to my tast 1 LOok how the sheep whose rambling steps do stray From the safe blessing of her Shepherds eyes Estsoon becomes the unprotected prey To the wing'd squadron of beleagring slies Where swelired with the scorching beams of day She frisks from bush to brake and wildly flies From her own self ev'n of her self afraid She shrouds her troubled brows in ev'ry glade And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade 2 Ev'n so my wand'ring Soul that hath digrest From her great Shepherd is the hourely prey Of all my sinnes These vultures in my breast Gripe my Promethean heart both night and day I hunt from place to place but sind no rest I know not where to go nor where to stay The eye of vengeance burns her flames invade My swelt'ring soul My soul hath oft assaid But she can find no shrowd but she can feel no shade 3 I sought the shades of Mitth to wear away My slow-pac'd hours of soul-consuming grief I search'd the shades of sleep to ease my day Of griping sorrows with a nights reprief I sought the shades of death thought there t' allay My finall torments with a full relief But mirth nor sleep nor death can hide my houres In the false shades of their deceitfull bowrs The first distracts the next disturbs the last devours 4 Where shall I 〈◊〉 To whom shall I apply 〈◊〉 Are there no streams where a faint soul may wade Thy Godhead JESUS are the flames that fry me Hath thy All-glorious Deity never a shade Where I may sit and vengeance never eye me Where I might sit refresht or 〈◊〉 Is there no comfort Is there no resection Is there no cover that will give protection T' a fainting soul the subject of thy wraths 〈◊〉 5 Look up my soul advance the lowly stature Of thy sad thoughts advance thy humble eye See here 's a shadow found The humane nature Is made the Umbella to the Deity To catch the Sun-beams of thy just Creatour Beneath this covert thou maist safely lie 〈◊〉 thine eyes to climbe this fruitfull tree As quick Zacheus did and thou shalt see A cloud of dying flesh betwixt those beams and thee GUILL in cap. 2. Cant. Who can indure the 〈◊〉 rayes of the Sunne of Justice Who shall not be consumed by his beams Therefore the Sun of Justice took flesh that through the conjunction of that Sun and this humane body a shadow may be made S. AUGUST Med. cap. 37. Lord let my soul flee from the scorching thoughts of the world under the covert of thy wings that being resreshed by the moderation of thy shadow she may sing merrily In peace will I lay me down and rest 〈◊〉 14. Ah treach'rous soul would not thy pleasures give That Lord which made thee living leave to
Can ye quench his fire Did not the great Creatours voice proclaim What ere he made from the blue spangled frame To the poore leaf that trembles very Good Blest he not both the Feeder and the Food Tell tell me then what danger can accrue From such blest Food to such half-gods as you Curb needlesse fears and let no fond conceit Abuse your freedome woman Take and eat Eve 'T is true we are immortall death is yet Unborn and till rebellion make it debt Undue I know the Fruit is good untill Presumtuous disobedience make it ill The lips that open to this Fruit 's a portall To let in death and make immortall mortall Serp. You cannot die Come woman Tast and fear not Eve Shall Eve transgresse I dare not O I dare not Serp. Afraid why draw'st thou back thy tim'rous arm Harm onely fals on such as fear a harm Heav'n knowes and fears the virtue of this Tree 'T will make ye perfect Gods as well as He. Stretch forth thy hand and let thy fondnesse never Fear death Do pull and eat and live for ever Eve 'T is but an Apple and it is as good To do as to desire Fruit's made for food I le pull and tast and tempt my Adam too To know the secrets of this dainty Serp. Doe S. CHRYS. sup Matth. He forced him not He touched him not Onely said Cast thy self down that we may know whosoever obeyeth the Devil casteth himselfe down For the Devil may suggest compell he cannot S. BERN. in ser. It is the Devils part to suggest Ours not to consent As os◅ as we resist him so often we overcome him as often as we overcome him so often we bring joy to the Angels and glory to God Who proposeth us that we may contend and assisteth us that we may conquer EPIG. I. Unluckie Parliament wherein at last Both houses are agreed and firmly past An Act of death confirm'd by higher Powers O had it had but such successe as Ours II. JAMES 1. 15. Then when lust hath conceived it bringeth forth sinne and sinne when it is finished bringeth forth death 1 LAment lament Look look what thou hast done Lament the worlds lament thy own estate Look look by doing how thou art undone Lament thy fall lament thy change of State Thy faith is broken and thy freedome gone See see too soon what thou lament'st too late O thou that wert so many men nay all Abbridg'd in one how has thy desp'rate fall Destroy'd thy unborn seed destroy'd thy self withall 2 Uxorious Adam whom thy maker made Equall to Angels that excell in pow'r What hast thou done O why hast thou obey'd Thy own destruction Like a new-cropt flowre How does the glory of thy beauty fade How are thy fortunes blasted in an houre How art thou cow'd that had'st the pow'r to quell The spite of new-fall'n Angels baffle Hell And vie with those that stood and vanquish those that fell 3 See how the world whose chast and pregnant womb Of late conceiv'd and brought forth noth◅ng ill Is now degenerated and become A base Adultresse whose false births do fill The earth with Monsters Monsters that do rome And rage about and make a trade to kill Now Glutt'ny paunches Lust begins to spawn Wrath takes revenge and Avarice a pawn Pale Envie pines Pride swells and Sloth begins to yawn 4 The Aire that whisper'd now begins to rore And blustring Boreas blowes the boyling Tide The whit-mouth'd Water now usurps the shore And scorns the pow'r of her tridentall guide The Fire now burns that did but warm before And rules her ruler with resistlesse pride Fire Water Earth and Ai◅e that first were made To be subdu'd see how they now invade They rule whom once they serv'd cōmand where once obey'd 5 Behold that nakednesse that late bewray'd Thy glory now 's become thy shame thy wonder ◅ehold those Trees whose various fruits were made For food now turn'd a shade to shrowd thee under Behold that voice which thou hast disobey'd That late was musick now aff◅ights like thunder Poor man Are not thy joynts grown sore with shaking To view th' effect of thy bold undertaking That in one houre didd'st marre what heav'n six dayes was making S. AUGUST lib. 1. de lib. arbit It is a most just punishment that man should lose that freedome which man could not use yet had power to keep if he would and that be who had knowledge to do what was right and did not should be deprived of the knowledge of what was right and that he who would not do righteously when he had the power should lose the power to doit when he ◅ad the will HUGO de anima They are justly punished that abuse lawfull things but they are most justly punished that use unlawfull things Thus Lucifer fell from Heaven thus Adam lost his Paradise EPIG. 2. See how these fruitfull kernels being cast Upon the earth how thick they spring how fast A full-ear'd crop and thriving rank and proud Prepost'rous man first sow'd and then he plough'd III. PROVERBS 14. 13. Even in laughter the heart is sorrowfull and the end of that mirth is heavinesse 1 ALas fond Child How are thy thoughts beguil'd To hope for hony from a nest of wasps Thou maist as well Go seek for ease in hell Or sprightly Nectar from the mouths of asps 2 The world 's a hive From whence thou canst derive No good but what thy souls vexation brings Put case thou meet Some peti-peti sweet Each drop is guarded with a thousand stings 3 Why dost thou make These murm'ring troups forsake The safe protection of their waxen homes This hive contains No sweet that 's worth thy pains There 's nothing here alas but empty combes 4 For trash and toyes And grief-ingend'ring joyes What to◅ment seems too sharp for ◅lesh and bloud What bitter pills Compos'd of reall ills Man swallows down to purchase one false good 5 The dainties here Are least what they appear Though sweet in hopes yet in fruition sowre The fruit that 's yellow Is found not alwayes mellow The fairest Tulip 's not the sweetest flowre 6 Fond youth give ore And vex thy soul no more In secking what were better farre unfound Alas thy gains Are onely present pains To gather Scorpions for a future wound 7 What 's earth or in it That longer then a minit Can lend a free delight that can endure O who would droyl Or delve in such a soyl Where gain 's uncertain and the pain is sure S AUGUST Sweetnesse in temporall matters is deceitfull Il is a labour and a perpetuall fear it is a dangerous pleasure whose beginning is without providence and whose end is not without repentance HUGO Luxury is an enticing pleasure a bastard mirth which hath honey in her mouth gall in her heart and a a◅ing in her tail EPIG. 3. What Cupid are thy shafes already made And seeking honey to set up thy trade True Embleme of thy sweers Thy
buildeth a Babylon Let every one enquire of himself what he lovâ—…th and he shall resolve himself of whence he is a Citizen S. AUGUST lib. 3. Confess All things are dâ—…iven by their own weight and tend to their own center My weight is my love by that I am driven whithersoever I am driven Ibidem Lord he loveth thee the lesse that loveth any thing with thee which he loveth not for thee EPIG. 13. Lord scourge my Asse if she should make no hast And curb my Stag if he should flie too fast If he be overswifâ—… or shâ—… prove idle Let Love lend him a spur Fear her a bridle XIV PSALM 13. 3. Lighten mine eyes O Lord lest I sleep the sleep of death WIll't ne'r be morning Will that promis'd light Ne'r break and clear these clouds of night Sweet Phospher bring the day Whose conqu'ring ray May chase these sogs Sweet 〈◊〉 â—…ing the day How long how long shall these benighted eyes Languish in shades like feâ—…ble fliâ—…s Expecting Spring How long shall darknesse soyl The face of earth and thus beguile Our souls of sprightfull action when will day Begin to dawn whose new-born ray May gild the wether-cocks of our devotion And give our unsoul'd souls new motion Sweet Phospher bring the day Thy light will fray These horrid mists Sweet Phospher bring the day Let those have night that slily love t' immure Their cloyster'd crimes and sinne secure Let those have night that blush to let men knoâ—… The basenesse they ne'r blush to do Let those have night that love to take a nap And loll in Ignorances lap Let those whose eyes like Ouls abhorre the light Let those have night that loâ—…e the night Sweet Phospher bring the day How sad delay Afflicts dull hopes Sweet Phospher bring the day Alas my light invain-expecting eyes Can find no Objects but what rise From this poore morall blaze a dying spark Of Vulcans forge whose flames are dark And dangerous a dull blew burning light As melancholly as the night Here 's all the Sunnes that glister in the Sphere Of earth Ah me what comfort 's here Sweet Phospher bring the day Haste haste away Heav'ns loytring lamp Sweet Phospher bring the day Blow Ignorance O thou whose idle knee Rocks earth into a Lethargie And with thy sootie fingers hast bedight The worlds fair cheeks blow blow thy spite Since thou hast pufft our greater Tapour do Pusse on and out the lesser too If ere that breath-exiled flame return Thou hast not blown as it will burn Sweet Phospher bring the day Light will repay The wrongs of night Sweet Phospher bring the day S. AUGUST in Joh. ser. 19. God is all to thee If thou be hungry he is bread If thirsty he is water If in darknesse he is light If naked he is a robe of immortalitie AIANUS de conq nat. God is a light that is never darkned An unwearied life that cannot dâ—…e a fountain alwayes flowing a garden of life a seminary of wisdome a radicall beginning of all goodnesse EPIG. 11. My soul if Ignorance puffe out this light Shee 'll do a favour that intends a spight 'T seems dark abroad but take this light away Thy windowes will discover break a day XV REVELATION 12. 12. The Devil is come unto you having great wrath because he knoweth that he hath but a short time 1 LOrd canst thou see and suffer is thy hand Still bound to th' peace Shall earths black Monarch take A full possession of thy wasted land O will thy slumb'ring vengeance never wake Till full-ag'd law-resisting Custome shake The pillours of thy right by false command Unlock thy clouds great Thund'rer and come down Behold whose Temples wear thy sacred Crown Redresse redresse our wrongs revenge revenge thy own 2 See how the bold Usurper mounts the seat Of royall Majesty How overstrawing Perils with pleasure pointing ev'ry threat With bugbear death by torments over-awing Thy frighted subjects or by favours drawing Their tempted hearts to his unjust retreat Lord canst thou be so mild and he so bold Or can thy flocks be thriving when the fold Is govern'd by a Fox Lord canst thou see and hold 3 That swist-wing'd Advocate that did commence Our welcome suits before the King of kings That sweet Embassadour that huâ—… ries hence What ayres th' harmonioâ—…s soul or sighs or sings See how she flutters with her idle wings Her wings are clipt and eyes put out by sense Sense conq'ring Faith is now grown blind and cold And basely cravâ—…nd that in times of old Did conquer Heav'n it self do what th' Almightie could 4 Behold how double Fraud does sâ—…ourge and tâ—…ar Astraeas wounded sides plough'd up and rent With knotted cords whose fury has no eare See how she stands a pris'ner to be sent A slave into eternall banishment I know not whither O I know not where Her Patent must be cancell'd in disgrace And swâ—…-lip Fraud with her divided face Must act Asâ—…s part must take Astraeas place 5 Faiths pineons clipt And fair Astraea gone Qâ—…ck-seeing Faith now blind And Justice see Has Justice now found wings and has Faith none What do we here who would not wish to be Dissolv'd from earth and with Astraea flee From this blind dungeon to that Sunne-bright Throâ—… Lord is thy Scepter lost or laid aside Is hell broke loose and all her Fiends untied Lord rise and rowze and rule and crush their furious pride PETR. RAV in Math. The Devil is the authour of evil the fountain of wickednesse the adversary of the truth the corrupter of the world mans perpetuall enemy he plâ—…teth snares diggeth ditches spurreth bodies he goadeth souls he suggesteth thoughts belcheth anger exposeth vertues to hatred maketh vices beloved soweth errours nourisheth 〈◊〉 disturbeth peace and scattereth asfections MACAR. Let us susser with those that susser and be crucified with those that are crucified that we may be glorisied with those that are glorisied SAVANAR If there be no enemy no sight is â—…o sight â—…o victorie is no victory no crown EPIG. 15. My soul sit thou a patient looker on Judge not the Play before the Play is done Her Plot has many changes Every day Speaks a new Scene the last act crowns the Play THE SECOND BOOK I. ISAIAH 50. 11. You that walk in the light of your own sire and in the sparks that ye have kindled ye shall lie down in sorrow 1 DO silly Cupid snuâ—…e and trimme Thy false thy feeble light And make her self-consuming flames more bright Me thinks she burns too dimme Is this that sprightly fire Whose more then sacred beams inspire The ravisht hearts of men and so inâ—…lame desire 2 See Boy how thy unthristie blaze Consumes how fast she wains She spends her self and her whose wealth maintains Her weak her idle rayes Cannot thy lustfull blast Which gave it luster make it last What heart can long be pleas'd where pleasure spends so fast 3 Go Wanton place thy pale-fac'd light Where never breaking day
dart As it hath prickt thy fancy pierâ—…'d thy heart 'T had been thy friend O how has it deceiv'd thee For had this dart but kill'd this dart had sav'd thee XIV PROVERBS 24. 16. A just man falleth seven times and riseth up again but the wicked shall fall into mischief 1 'T Is but a foyl at best and that 's the most Your skill can boast My slipp'ry footing fail'd me and you tripâ—… Just as I slipt My wanton weaknesse did her self betray With too much play I was too bold He never yet stood sure That stands secure Who ever trusted to his native strength But fell at length The Title 's craz'd the Tenure is not good That claims by th' evidence of flesh and bloud 2 Boast not thy skill the riglâ—…eous man falls ost Yet falls but soft There may be dirt to mire him but no stones To crush his bones What if he staggers Nay put case he be Foyl'd on his knee That very knee will bend to Heav'n and woo For mercy too The true-bred Gamester ups a fresh and then Falls to 't agen Whereas the leaden-hearted coward lies And yields his conquer'd life or craven'd dies 3 Boast not thy Conquest thou that ev'ry hour Fall'sâ—… ten times lower Nay hast not pow'r to rise if not in case To fall more base Thou wallow'st where I slip and thou dost tumble Where I but stumble Thou glory'st in thy slav'ries diâ—…ty badges And fall'st for wages Sowâ—…grief and sad repentance scowrs and clears My stains with tears Thy falling keeps thy falling still in ure But when I slip I stand the more sâ—…cure 4 Lord what a nothing is this little Span We call a Man What fenny trash mainteins the smoth'ring sires Of his desires How sleight and short are â—…is resolvs at longest How weak at strongest O if a sinner held by thy fast hand Can hardly stand Good God! in what a desp'rate case are they That have no stay Mans state implyes a necessary curse When not himself he 's mad when most himself he 's worse S. AMBROS. in Serm. ad vincula Peter stood more firmly after he â—…ad lamented his fall then before he fell Insomuch that he found more grace then he lost grace S. CHRYS. in Ep. ad Heliod monach It is no such hainous matter to fall afflicted as being down to lie dejected It is no danger for a souldier to receive a wound in battel but after the wound received through despair of recovery to refuse a remedy for we often see wounded Champions wear the Palm at last and after flight crowned with victory EPIG. 14. Triumph not Cupid his mischance doth show Thy trade doth once what thou dost alwayes do Brag not too soon has thy prevailing hand Foil'd him Ah fool th' ast taught him how to stand XV JEREMIAH 32. 40. I will put my fear in their hearts that they shall not depart from me SO now the soul 's sublim'd her sowre desires Are recalcin'd in heav'ns well-tempred fires The heart restor'd and purg'd from drossie nature Now finds the freedome of a new-born creature It lives another life it breaths new breath It neither feels nor fears the sting of death Like as the idle vagrant having none That boldly ' dopts each house he views his own Makes ev'ry purse his chequer and at pleasure Walks forth and taxes all the world like Caesar At length by vertue of a just command His sides are lent to a severer hand Whereon his passe not fully understood Is texted in a manuscript of blood Thus past from town to town untill he come A sore repentant to his native home Ev'n so the rambling heart that idly roves From crimes to sin and uncontroul'd removes From lust to lust when wanton slesh invites From old-worn pleasures to new choice delights At length corrected by the filiall rod Of his offended but his gracious God And lasht from sins to sighs and by degrees From sighs to vows from vows to bended knees From â—…ended knees to a true pensive breast 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to torments not by tongues exprest 〈◊〉 and from his sinfull self exil'd 〈◊〉 a glad father he a welcome child O then it lives O then it lives involv'd In 〈◊〉 raptures pants to be dissolv'd 〈◊〉 royall Of spring of a second Birth 〈◊〉 ope to Heav'n and shuts the doors to earth If love-sick â—…ove commanded clouds should hap To rain such show'rs as quickned Danaes lap Or dogs far kinder then their purple master Should lick his sores he laughs nor weeps the faster If earth Heav'ns rivall dart her idle ray To Heav'n 't is wax and to the world 't is clay If earth present delights it scorns to draw But like the jet unrubb'd disdains that straw No hope deceives it and no doubt divides it No grief disturbs it and no errour guides it No fear distracts it and no rage inflames it No guilt condemns it and no folly shames it No sloth besots it and no lust inthralls it No scorn afflicts it and no passion gawls it It is a â—…arknet of immortall life An Aâ—…k of peace the lists of sacred strife A purer piece of endlâ—…sse transitory A shrine of Grace a little throne of Glory A Heav'n-born Of-spring of a new-born birth An earthly Heav'n an ounce of Heav'nly earth S. AUGUST de spir. anima O happy heart where pietie 〈◊〉 where 〈◊〉 subjects where repentance correcteth where obedience directâ—…th where perseverance perfecteth where power protecteth wheâ—…e devotion projecteth where charitie connecteth S. GRâ—…G Which way soever the heart turneth it self if carefully it shall commonly observe that in those very things we lose God in tâ—…ose very things we shall find God It shall find the heat of his power in consideration of those things in the love of whiâ—…h things he was most cold and by what things it fell 〈◊〉 by those things it is raised converted EPIG. 15. My heart but wherefore do I call thee so I have renounâ—…'d my int'rest long ago When thou wert false and fleshly I was thine Mine wert thou never till thou wert not mine THE THIRD BOOK The Entertainment ALL you whose better thoughts are newly born And rebaptiz'd with holy fire can scorn The worlds base trash whose necks disdain to bear Th' imperious yoke of Satan whose chast eare No wanton songs of Sirens can surprize With false delight whose more then Eagle-eyes Can view the glorious flames of gold and gaze On glitt'ring beams of honour and not daze Whose souls can spurn at pleasure and deny The loose suggestions of the flesh draw nigh And you whose am'rous whose select desires Would feel the warmth of those transcendent 〈◊〉 Which like the rising Sun put out the light Of Venus starre and turn her day to night You that would love and have your passions crown'd With greater happinesse then can be found In your own wishes you that would aâ—…ect Where neither scorn nor guile nor disiespect Shall wound your tortur'd souls that would enjoy Where
neither want can pinch nor fulnesse cloy Nor double doubt afflicts â—…or baser fear Unflames your courage in pursuit draw near Shake hands with earth and let your soul respect Her joyes no further then her joyes reflect Upon her Makers glory if thou swim In wealth see him in all see all in him Sink'st thou in want and is thy small cruse spent See him in want enjoy him in conâ—…nt Conceiv'st him lodg'd in Crosse or lost in pain In Pray'r and Patience find him out again Make Heav'n thy Mistresse let no change remove Thy loyall heart be fond be sick of love What if he stop his eare or knit his brow At length he 'll be as fond as sick as thou Dart up thy soul in grones Thy secret grone Shall pierce his eare sâ—…all pierce his eare alone Dart up thy soul in vowes Thy sacred vow Shall find him out where Heav'n alone shall know Dart up thy soul in sighs Thy whisp'ring sigh Shall rouse his ears and fear no listner nigh Send up thy grones thy sighs thy closet vow There 's none there 's none shall know but Heav'n and thou Grones fresht with vowes and vowes made salt with tears Unscale his eyes and scale his conquer'd ears Shoot up the bosome shafâ—… of thy desire Feather'd with faith and double-forkt with fire And they wil hit Fear not where Heav'n bids come Heav'ns never deaf but when mans heart is dumb I. ISAIAH 29. 6. My soul hath desired thee in the night GOod God! what horrid darknesse doth surround My groping soul how are my senses bound In utter shades and mufâ—…ed from the light Lusk in the bosome of eternall night The bold-sac'd Lamp of heav'n can set and rise And with his morning glory fill the eyes Of gazing mortalls his victorious ray Can chase the shadows and restore the day Nights bashfull Empresse though she often wain As ost repents her darknesse primes again And with her circling horns doth re-embrace Her brothers wealth and orbs her silver face But ah my Sun deep swallow'd in his fall Is set and cannot shine nor rise at all My bankrupt wain can beg nor borrow light Alas my darknesse is perpetuall night Falls have their risings wainings have their primes And desp'rate sorrows wait their better times Ebs have their Floods and Autumnes have their Springs All States have changes hurried with the swings Of Chance and Time still tiding to and fro Terrestriall bodies and celestiall too How often have I vainly grop'd about With length'ned arms to find a passage out That I might catch those beams mine eye desires And bath my soul in those celestiall fires Like as the 〈◊〉 cloyster'd in her mue To scowr her downy robes and to renâ—… Her broken flags preparing t' overlook The tim'rous Mallard at the sliding brook Jeâ—… oft from perch to perch from stock to ground From ground to window thus surveying round Her dove-befeath'red Prison till at length Calling her noble birth to mind and strength Whereto her wing was born her ragged beak Nips off her dangling jesses strives to break Her gingling fetters and begins to bate At ev'ry glimpse and darts at ev'ry grate Ev'n so my weary soul that long has bin An Inmate in this Tâ—…nement of sin Lockt up by cloud-brow'd Errour which invites My cloystred thoughts to feed on black delights Now scorns her shadows and begins to dart Her wing'd desires at thee that onely art The Sun she seeks whose rising beams can fright These duskie clouds that make sâ—… dark a night Shine forth great Glory shine that I may see Both how to loath my self and honour Thee But if my weaknesse force thee to deny Thy flames yet lend the twilight of thine eye If I must want those Beams I wish yet grant That I at least may wish those Beams I want S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 33. There was a great and dark cloud of vanitie before mine eyes so that I could not see the Sun of Justice and the Light of Truth I being the sonne of darknesse was involved in darknesse I loved my darknesse because I knew not thy light I was blind and loved my blindnesse and did walk from darknesse to darknesse But Lord thou art my God who hast led me from darknesse and the shadow of death â—…ast called me into this glorious light and behold I see EPIG. I. My soul chear up what if the night be long Heav'n finds an eare when sinners find a tongue Thy tears are morning show'rs Heav'n bids me say When Peters cock begins to crow 't is day II. PSALM 69. 3. O Lord thou knowest my foolishnesse and my sinnes are not hid from thee SEest thou this fulsome Ideot In what measure He seems transported with the antick pleasure Of childish baubles canst thou but admire The empty fulnesse of his vain desire Canst thou conceive such poore delights as these Can fill th' insatiate soul of man or please The fond aspect of his deluded eye Reader such very fools are thou and I False puffs of honour the deceitfull streams Of wealth the idle vain and empty dreams Of pleasure are our traffick and ensnare Our souls the threefold subject of our care We toyl for trash we barter solid joyes For airy trâ—…s sell our Heav'n for toyes We snatch at barly grains whilst pearls stand by Despis'd such very fools art thou and I Aym'st thou at honour does not the Ideot shake it In his left hand fond man step forth and take it Or would'st thou wealth see how the fool presents thee With a full basket if such wealth contents thee Wouldst thou take pleasure if the fool unstride His prauncing Stallion thou mayst up and 〈◊〉 Fond man such is the pleasure wealth and honour The earth affords such fools as dote upon her Such is the game whereat â—…ths ideots sly Such ideots ah such fools are thou and I Had rebell-mans fool-hardinesse extended No further then himself and there had ended It had been just but thus enrag'd to sly Upon th' eternall eyes of Majesty And drag the Son of Glory from the breast Of his indulgent Father to aâ—… rest His great and sacred Person in disgrace To spit and spaul upon his Sun bright face To taunt him with base terms and being bound To scourge his soft his trembling sides to wound His head with thorns his heart with humane 〈◊〉 His hands with nails and his pale slank with spears And then to paddle in the pureâ—… stream Of his spilt blood is more then most extreme Great builder of mankind canst thou propound All this to thy bright eyes and not confound Thy handy-work O canst thou choose but see That mad'st the eye can ought behid from thee Thou seest our persons Lord and not our guilt Thou seest not what thou maist but what thou wilt The Hand that form'd us is enforc'd to be A Screen set up betwixt thy work and thee Look look upon that Hand and thou shalt spy An open wound a through-fare
art without thy glorious sight Mine eyes are darkned with perpetuall night My God thou art my Way my Life my Light Thou art my Way I wander if thou fly Thou art my Light If hid how blind am Iâ—… Thou art my Life If thou withdraw I die Mine eyes are blind and dark I cannot see To whom or whether should my darknesse flee But to the Light And who 's that Light but thee My path is lost my wand'ring steps do stray I cannot safely go nor safely stay Whom should I seek but thee my Path my Way O I am dead to whom shall I poore I Repair to whom shall my sad ashes fly But Life And where is Life but in thine eye And yet thou turn'st away thy face and fly'st me And yet I sue for grace and thou deny'st me Speak art thou angry Lord or onely try'st me Unskreen those Heav'nly lamps or tell me why Thou shad'st thy face perhaps thou thinkst no eye Can view those flames and not drop down and die If that be all shine forth and draw thee nigher Let me behold and die for my desire Is Phoenix like to perish in that fire Death conquer'd Laz'rus was redeem'd by thee If I am dead Lord see deaths prisner free Am I more spent or stink I worse then he If my pufft light be out give leave to tine My slamelesse-snuss at that bright Lamp of thine O what 's thy Light the lesse for lighting mine If I have lost my Path great Shepherd say Shall I still wander in a doubtfull way Lord shall a Iamb of Isr'els sheepfold stâ—…ay Thou art the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the blind mans Eye The dead mans Life on thee my hopes rely If thou remove I erre I grope I die Disclose thy Sun-beams close thy wings and stay See see how I am blind and dead and stray O thou that art my Light my Life my Way S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 1. Why dost thou hide thy face Happily thou 〈◊〉 say none can see thy face and live Ah Lord let me die that I may see thee let me see thee that I may die I would not live but die That I may see Christ I desire death That I may live with Christ I despise life ANSELM Med. cap. 5. O excellent hiding which is become my persection My God Thou hidest thy treasure to kindle my desire Thou hidest thy pearl to inflame the seeker Thou delayest â—…o give that Thou maist teach me to importune seem'st not to hear to make mâ—… persever EPIG. 7. If 〈◊〉 all-quickning eyes vouchsafe to shine Upon our souls we slight If not we whine Our Equinoctiall hearts can never lie Secure beneath the Tropicks of that eye VIII JE REMIAâ—… 9. 1. O that my head were waters and mine eyes a fountain of tears that I might weep day and night O That mine eyes were springs and could transform Their drops to seas my sighs into a storm Of zeal and sacred violence wherein This lab'ring vèssel laden with heâ—… sinne Might suffer sudden shipwrack and be split Upon that rock where my drencht soul may sit O'rwhelm'd with plenteous passion O and there Drop drop into an everlasting tear Ah me that ev'ry sliding vein that wanders Through this vast Isle did work her wild meanders In brackish tears in stead of bloud and swell This flesh with holy dropsies from whose well Made warm with sighs may fume my wasting breath Whil'st I dissolve in steams and reek to death These narrow sluces of my dribbling eyes Are much too strait for those quick springs that rise And hourely fill my temples to the top I cannot shed for ev'ry sinne a drop Great builder of mankind why hast thou sent Such swelling flouds and made so small a ventâ—… O that this flesh had been compos'd of snow In stead of earth and bones of ice that so Feeling the fervour of my sinne and lothing The â—…ire I feel I might be thaw'd to nothing O thou that didst with hopefull joy entomb Me thrice three moons in thy laborious womb And then with joyfull pain broughtst forth a Son What worth thy labour has thy labour done What was there Ah! what was there in my birth That could deserve the easiest smile of mirth A man was born Alas and what 's a man A scuttle full of dust a measur'd span Of flitting Time a furnish'd pack whose wares Are sullen griefs and soul-tormenting cares A vale of tears a vessel tunn'd with breath By sicknesse brocht to be drawn out by deaâ—…h A haplesse helplesse thing that born doth cry To feed that feeds to live that lives to die Great God and Man whose eyes spent drops so often For me that cannot weep enough O soften These marble brains and strike this slintie rock Or if the musick of thy Peters cock Will more prevail fill fill my hearkning ears With that sweet sound that I may melt in tears I cannot weep untill thou broch mine eye Or give me vent or else I burst and die S. AMBROS. in Psal. 118. He that committeth sinnes to be wept for cannot weep for sianes committed And being himself most lamentable hath no tears to lament his offences NAZIANZ Orat. 3. Tears are the deluge of sinne and the worlds sacrifice S. HIERON. in Esaiam Prayer appeaseth God but a tear compelleth him That moveth him but this constraineth him EPIO. 8. Earth is an Island ported round with fears The way to Heav'n is through the Sea of tearsâ—… It is a stormy passage where is found The wrack of many a ship but no man drown'd IX PSALM 18. 5. The sorrows of hell compassed me about and the snares of death prevented me IS not this Type well cut In ev'ry part Full of rich cunning sill'd with Zeuxian Art Are not the hunters and their Stygian hounds Limm'd full to th' life didst ever heare the sounds The musick and the lip-divided breaths Of the strong-winded horn recheats and deaths Done more exact th' infernall Nimrods hollow The lawlesse Purliews and the game they follow The hidden engines and the snares that lie So undiscover'd so obscure to th' eye The new-drawn net and her entangled prey And him thae closes it Beholder say Is 't not well done seems not an em'lous strife Betwixt the rare cut picture and the life These Purliew-men are Devils and the Hounds Those quick-nos'd Canibals that scour the grounds Temptations and the Game these Fiends pursue Are humane souls which still they have in view Whose fury if they chance to scape by slying The skilfull Hunter plants his net close lying On th' unsuspected earth bayted with treasure Ambitious honour and self-wasting pleasure Where if the soul but stoop death stands prepar'd To draw the net and drawn the soul 's ensnat'd Poore soul how 〈◊〉 thou hurried to and fro Where canst thou safely stay where safely go If stay these hot-mouth'd hounds are apt to tear thee If go the snares enclose the nets ensnare thee What good in this bad world has pow'r t'
invite thee A willing guest wherein can earth delight thee Her pleasures are but itch her wealth but 〈◊〉 A world of dangers and a world of snares The close pursuers busie hands do plant Snares in thy substance Snares attend thy want Snares in thy credit Snares in thy disgrace Snares in thy high estate Snares in thy base Snares tuck thy bed and Snares arround thy board Snares watch thy thoughts and Snares attach thy word Snares in thy quiet Snares in thy commotion Snares in thy 〈◊〉 Snares in thy devotion Snares lurk in thy resolves Snares in thy doubt Snares lie within thy heart and Snares without Snares are above thy head and Snares beneath Snares in thy sicknesse Snares are in thy death O if these Purliews be so full of danger Great God of Harts the worlds sole sov'reigne Ranger Preserve thy Deere and let my soul be blest In thy safe Forrest where I seék for rest Then let the hell-hounds rore I fear no ill Rouze me they may but have no pow'r to kill S. AMBROS. lib. 4. in cap. 4. Lucae The reward of honours the height of power the delicacie of diet and the beautie of a harlot are the snares of the devil S. AMBROS. de bono mortis Whilest thou seekest pleasures thou runnest into snares for the eye of the harlot is the snare of the Adulterer SAVANAR In eating he setteth before us gluttony Iâ— generation luxury In labour sluggishnesse In conversing envy In governing covetousnesse In correcting anger In honour pride In the heart he setteth evil thoughts In the mouth evil words In actions evil works when awake he moveth us to evil actions when asleep to filthy dreams EPIG. 9. Be sad my Heart deep dangers wait thy mirth Thy soul 's way-laid by Sea by Hell by Earth Hell has her hounds Earth snares the Sea a shelf But most of all my Heart beware thy self X. PSALM 143. 2. Enter not into judgement with thy servant for in thy sight shall no man living be justified Jesus Justice Sinner Jes. BRing forth the prisner Justice Just Thy commands 〈◊〉 done just Judge See here the prisner stands Jes. What hath the prisner done Say what 's the cause Of his commitment Just He has broke the laws Of his too gracious God conspir'd the death Of that great Majesty that gave him breath And heapt transgression Lord upon transgression Jes. How know'st thou this Just Ev'n by his own confession His sinnes are crying and they cry'd aloud They cry'd to Heav'n they cry'd to Heav'n for bloud Jes. What say'st thou sinner hast thou ought to plead That sentence should not passe hold up thy head And shew thy brasen thy rebellious face Sin Ah me I dare not I 'm too vile and base To tread upon the earth much more to 〈◊〉 Mine eyes to Heav'n I need no other 〈◊〉 Then mine own conscience Lord I must confesse I am no more then dust and no whit lesse Then my 〈◊〉 styles me Ah if thou Search too severe with too severe a brow What flesh can stand I have transgrest thy laws My merits plead thy vengeance not my cause Just Lord shall I strike the blow Jes. Hold Justice stay Sinner speak on what hast thou more to say Sin Vile as I am and of my self abhorr'd I am thy handy-work thy creature Lord Stampt with thy glorious Image and at first Most like to thee though now a poore accurst Convicted catiff and degen'rous creature Here trembling at thy bar Just Thy fault 's the greater Lord sâ—…ll I strike the blow Jes. Hold Justice stay Speak sinner hast thou nothing more to say Sin Nothing but Mercy Mercy Lord my state Is miserably poore and desperate I quite renounce my self the world and flee From Lord to Jesus from thy self to thee Just Cease thy vain hopes my angry God has vow'd Abused mercy must have bloud for bloud Shall I yet strike the blow Jes. Stay Justice hold My bowels yearn my fainting bloud growes cold To view the trembling wretch me thinks I spy My fathers image in the prisners eye Just I cannot hold Jes. Then turn thy thirsty blade Into my sides let there the wound be made Chear up dear soul redeem thy life with mine My soul shall smart my heart shall bleed for thine Siâ—… O ground-lesse deeps O love beyond degree Th' offended dies to set th' offender free S. AUGUST Lord if I have done that for which thou maist damne me thou hast not lost that whereby thou maist save me Remember not sweet Jesus thy justice against the sinner but thy benignity towards thy creature Remember not to proceed against a guilty soul but remember thy mercy towards a miserable wretch Forget the insolence of the provoker and behold the misery of the invoker for what is Jesus but a Saviour ANSELM Have respect to what thy Sonne hath done for me and forget what my sinnes have done against thee My flesh hath provoked thee to vengeance let the flesh of Christ move thee to mercy It is much that my rebellions have deserved but it is more that my Redeemer hath marited EPIG. 10. Mercie of mercies He that was my drudge Is now my Advocate is now my Judge He suffers pleads and sentences alone Three I adore and yet adore but One XI PSALM 69. 15. Let not the water-flood overflow me neither let the deeps swallow me up THe world 's a Sea my flesh a Ship that 's mann'd With lab'ring Thoughts and steer'd by Reasons hand My Heart 's the Sea-mans Card whereby she sails My loose Affections are the greater Sails The Top-sail is my Fancie and the Gusts That sill these wanton sheets are worldly Lusts. Pray'r is the Cable at whose end appears The Anchor Hope nev'r slipt but in our fears My Will's th' unconstant Pilot that commands The stagg'ring Keel my Sinnes are like the Sands Repentance is the Bucket and mine Eye The Pump 〈◊〉 but in extremes and dry My Conscience is the Plummet that doth presse The deeps but seldome cries A sathom lesse Smooth Calm's security the Gulf despair My Fraught's Corruption and this Life 's my Fair My Soul 's the Passenger confus'dly driven From fear to fright her landing-Port is Heaven My Seas are stormy and my Ship doth leak My Saylers rude my Steersman saint and weak My Canvace torn it slaps from side to side My Cable 's crakt my Anchor's slightly ti'd My Pilot's craz'd my thipwrack-Sands are cloak'd My Bucket 's broken and my Pump is choak'd My Calm 's deceitfull and my Gulf too near My Wares are slubber'd and my Fare's too dear My Plummet 's light it cannot sink nor sound O shall my Rock-bethreatned Soul be drown'd Lord still the Seas and shield my Ship from harm Instruct my Sailours guid my Steersmans arm Touch thou my Compasse and renew my Sails Send stifter courage or send milder gales Make strong my Cable bind my Anchor faster Direct my â—…ilot and be thou his Master Object the Sands to my more serious
members warring against the Law of my mind and bringing me into captivitie to the Law of sinne 1 O How my will is hurried to and fro And how my unresolv'd resolves do vary I know not where to fix sometimes I go ' This way then that and then the quite contrary I like dislike lament for what I could not I do undo yet still do what I should not And at the self same instant will the thing I would not 2 Thus are my weather-beaten thoughts opprest With th' earth-bred winds of my prodigious will Thus am I hourely tost from East to West Upon the rowling streams of good and ill Thus am I driven upon these slipp'ry suds From reall ills to false apparent goods My life 's a troubled sea compos'd of Ebs and Flouds 3 The curious Penman having tâ—…imm'd his page With the dead language of his dabbled quill Le ts fall a heedlesse drop then in a rage Cashiers the fruits of his unlucky skill Ev'n so my pregnant soul in th' insant bud Of her best thoughts showâ—…s down a cole-black flood Of unadvised ills and cancels all her good 4 Sometimes a sudden flash of sacred heat Warms my chill soul and seâ—…s my thoughts in frame But soon â—…hat fire is shouldred from her seat By lustfull Cupids much inferiour flame I feel two flames and yet no flame entire Thus are the mungrill thoughts of mixt desire Consum'd between that heav'nly and this earthly fire 5 Sometimes my trash-disdaining thoughts out-passe The common period of terrene conceit O then me thinks I scorn the thing I was Whilst I stand ravisht at my new estate But when th' Icarian wings of my desire Feel but the warmth of their own native sire O then they melt and plunge within their wonted mire 6 I know the nature of my wav'ring mind I know the frailty of my fleshly will My Passion 's Eagle-ey'd my judgement blind I know what 's good but yet make choice of ill When th' Ostrich wings of my desires shall be So dull they cannot mount the least degree Yet grant my soul desire but of desiring thee S. BERN. Med. 9. My heart is a vain heart a vagabond and instable heart while it is led by its own judgement and wanting Divine counsel cannot subsist in it self and whilest it divers wayes seeketh rest findeth none but remaineth miserable through labour and void of peace It agreeth not with it self it dissenteth from it self it altereth resolutions changeth the judgement frameth new thoughts pulleth down the old and buildeth them up again It willeth and willeth not and never remaineth in the same state S. AUGUST de verb Apost. When it would it cannot because when it might it would not Therefore by an evil will man lost his good power EPIG. 1. My soul how are thy thoughts disturb'd confin'd Enlarg'd betwixt thy members and thy mind Fix here or there thy doubt-depending cause Can nev'r expect one verdict 'twixt two Laws II. PSALM 119. 5. O that my wayes were directed to keep thy Statutes 1 THus I the object of the worlds disdain With Pilgrime-pace surround the weary earth I onely relish what the world counts vain Her mirth 's my grief her sullen grief my mirth Her light my darknesse and her truth my errour Her freedom is my jail and her delight my terrour 2 Fond earth proportion not my seeming love To my long stay let not thy thoughts deceive thee Thou art my prison and my home 's above My life 's a preparation but to leave thee Like one that seeks a doore I walk about thee With thee I cannot live I cannot live without thee 3 The world 's a lab'rinth whose anfractuous wayes Are all compos'd of rubs and crook'd meanders No resting here He 's hurried back that stayes A thought and he that goes unguided wanders Her way is dark her path untrod unev'n So hard 's the way from earth so hard 's the way to Heav'n 4 This gvring lab'rinth is betrench'd about On either hand with streams of sulph'rous fire Streams closely sliding erring in and out But seeming pleasant to the fond descrier Where if his footsteps trust their own invention He falls without redresse and sinks beyond dimension 5 Where shall I seek a Guide where shall I meet Some lucky hand to lead my trembling paces What trusty Lantern will direct my feet To scape the danger of these dang'rous places What hopes have I to passe without a Guide Where one gets safely through a thousand fall beside 6 An unrequested Starre did gently slide Before the Wisemen to a greater Light Back-sliding Isr'el found a double Guide A Pillar and a Cloud by day by night Yet in my desp'rate dangers which be farre More great then theirs I have nor Pillar Cloud nor Starre 7 O that the pineons of a clipping Dove Would cut my passage through the empty Aire Mine eyes being seeld how would I mount above The reach of danger and forgotten care My backward eyes should nev'r commit that fault Whose lasting guilt should build a Monument of Salt 8 Great God that art the flowing Spring of Light Enrich mine eyes with thy refulgent Ray Thou art my Path direct my steps aright I have no other Light no other Way I 'll trust my God and him alone pursue His Law shall be my Path his Heav'nly Light my Clue S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 4. O Lord who art the Light the Way the Truth the Life in whom there is no darknesse errour vanitie nor death The Light without which there is darknesse The Way without which there is wandering The Truth without which there is errour The Life without which there is death Say Lord Let there be Light and I shall see Light and eschew darknesse I shall see the Way and avoid wandering I shall sâ—…e the Truth and shun errour I shall see Life and escape death Illuminate O illuminate my blind soul which â—…itteth in darknesse and the shâ—…dow of death and direct my feet in the way of peace EPIG. 2. Pilgrime trudge on What makes thy soul complain Crownes thy complaint The way to rest is pain The road to resolution lies by doubt The next way home 's the farthest way about III. PSALM 17. 5. Stay my steps in thy paths that my feet do not slide 1 WHen ere the old Exchange of profit rings Her silver Saints-bell of uncertain gains My merchant soul can stretch both legs and wings How I can run and take unwearied pains The charms of profit are so strong that I Who wanted legs to go find wings to fly 2 〈◊〉 time-beguiling Pleasure but advance Her lustfull trump and blow her bold alarms O how my sportfull â—…oul can frisk and dance And hug that Syren in her twined arms The sprightly voyce of sinew-strengthning pleasure Can lend my bedrid soul both legs and leasure 3 If blazing Honour chance to fill my veins With flatt'ring warmth and flash of Courtly fire My soul can take a pleasure in her pains My
live See what thy sinnes have done thy sinnes have made The Sunne of Glory now become thy shade XV PSALM 137. 4. How shall we sing a song of the Lord in a strange land URge me no more this aity mirth belongs To better times these times are not for songs The sprightly twang of the melodious Lute 〈◊〉 not with my voice and both unsuit My untun'd fortunes the affected measure Of strains that are constrain'd 〈◊〉 no pleasure Musick 's the Child of mirth where griefs assail The troubled soul both voyce and fingers fail Let such as ravil out their lavish dayes In honourable riot that can raise Dejected hearts and conjure up a sprite Of madnesse by the Magick of delight Let those of Cupids hospitall that lie Impatient Patients to a smiling eye That cannot rest untill vain hope beguile Their 〈◊〉 torments with a wanton smile Let such redeem their peace and salve the wrongs Of froward Fortune with their frolick songs My grief my grief 's too great for smiling eyes To cure or counter 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 The Ravens dismall croaks the midnight bowls Of empty Wolues mixt with the 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 The nine sad knowls of a dull passing Bell With the loud language of a nightly knell And horrid out-cries of revenged crimes Joyn'd in a medley's musick for these times These are no times to touch the merry string Of Orpheus no these are no times to sing Can hide-bound Prisners that have spent their souls And famish'd bodies in the noysome holes Of hell-black dungeons apt their rougher throats Grown hoarse with begging alms to warble notes Can the sad Pilgrime that hath lost his way In the vast desart there condemn'd a prey To the wild subject or his savage King Rouze up his palsey smitten spir'ts and sing Can I a Pilgrime and a Prisner too Alas where I am neither known nor know Ought but my torments an unransom'd stranger In this strange climate in a land of danger O can my voyce be pleasant or my hand Thus made a Prisner to a forrein land How can my musick relish in your cars That cannot speak for sobs nor sing for tears Ah if my voyce could Orpheus-like unspell My poore Eurydice my soul from hell Of earths misconstru'd Heav'n O then my breast Should warble airs whose rhapsodies should feast The ears of Seraphims and entertain Heav'ns highest Deity with their lofty strain A strain well drencht in the true Thespian Well Till then earths Semiquaver mirth farewell S. AUGUST Med. cap. 33. O infinitely happy are those Heavenly virtues which are able 〈◊〉 praise thee in holinesse and puritie with excessive sweetnesse 〈◊〉 able exultation From thence they praise thee from whence they rejoyce because they continually see for what they rejoyce for what they praise thee But we prest down with this burden of flesh far removed from thy countenance in this pilgrimage and blown up with worldly vanities cannot worthily praise thee We praise thee by faith nor face to face but those Angelicall spirits praise thee face to face and not by saith EPIO. 15. Did I refuse to sing said I these times Were not for songs nor musick for these climes It was my errour are not grones and tears Harmonious raptures in th' Almighties ears THE FIFTH BOOK I. CANTICLES 5. 8. I charge you O daughters of Jerusalem if you find my beloved that you tell him that I am sick of love 1 YOu holy Virgins that so oft surround The cities Saphire walls whose snowy feet Measure the pearly paths of sacred ground And trace the new Jerus'lems Jasper street Ah you whose care-forsaken hearts are crown'd With your best wishes that enjoy the sweet Of all your hopes If e'r you chance to spie My absent Love O tell him that I lie Deep wounded with the flames that furnac'd from his eye 2 I charge you Virgins as you hope to heare The heav'nly musick of your Lovers voice I charge you by the solemne faith ye bear To plighted vows and to that loyall choice Of your affections or if ought more dear You hold by Hymen by your marriage joyes I charge you tell him that a flaming dart Shot from his eye hath pierc'd my bleeding heart And I am sick of love and languish in my smart 3 Tell him O tell him how my panting breast Is 〈◊〉 with flames and how my soul is pin'd Tell him O tell him how I he opprest With the full torments of a troubled mind O tell him tell him that he loves in jest But I in earnest tell him he 's unkind But if a discontented frown appears Upon his angry brow accoast his ears With soft and fewer words and act the rest in tears 4 O tell him that his cruelties deprive My soul of peace while peace in vain she seeks Tell him those damask roses that did strive With white both fade upon my sallow cheeks Tell him no token doth proclaim I live But tears and sighs and sobs and sudden shrieks Thus if your piercing words should chance to bore His hearkning ear and move a sigh give ore To speak and tell him Tell him that I could no more 5 If your elegious breath should hap to rouze A happy tear close harb'ring in his eye Then urge his plighted faith the sacred vows Which neither I can break nor he deny Bewail the torments of his loyall spouse That for his sake would make a sport to die O blessed Virgins how my passion tires Beneath the burden of her fond desires Heav'n never shot such flames earth never felt such fires S. AUGUST Med. cap. 40. What shall I say What shall I do Whither shall I go Where shall I seek him Or when shall I find him Whom shall I ask Who will tell my beloved that I am sick of love 〈◊〉 in Cap. 5. Cant. I live but not I it is my beloved that liveth in me I love my self not with my own love but with the love of my beloved that loveth me I love not my self in my self but my self in him and him in me EPIG. 1. Grieve not my soul nor let thy love wax faint Weep'st thou to lose the cause of thy complaint He 'll come Love ne'r was bound to times nor laws Till then thy tears complain without a cause II. CANTICLES 2. 5. Stay me with flowers and comfort me with apples for I am sick with loveâ—… 1 O Tyrant love I how doth thy sov'reigne pow'r Subject poore souls to thy imperious thrall They say thy cup 's compos'd of sweet and sowre They say thy diet 's honey mixt with gall How comes it then to passe these lips of our Still trade in bitter tast no sweet at all O tyrant love Shall our perpetuall toil Ne'r find a Sabbath to refresh awhile Our drooping souls Art thou all frowns and ne'r a smile 2 You blessed Maids of honour that frequent The royall courts of our renown'd Jehove With flow'rs restore my spirits faint and spent O fetch me apples from Loves
Inflame my thoughts and fill my soul with fire That I am ravisht with a new delight But if thou shroud thy face my glory fades And I remain a Nothing all compos'd of shades 5 Eternall God O thou that onely art The sacred Fountain of eternall light And blessed Loadstone of my better part O thou my hearts desire my souls delight Reflect upon my soul and touch my heart And then my heart shall prize no good above thee And then my soul shall know thee knowing love thee And then my trembling thoughts shall never start From thy commands or swerve the least degree Or once presume to move but as they move in thee S. AUGUST Med. Cap. 25. If Man can love man with so entire affection that the one can scarce brook the others absence If a bride can be joyned to 〈◊〉 bride-groom with so great an ardency of mind that for the extremitie of love she can enjoy no rest not suffering his absence without great anxiety with what affection with what 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the soul whom thou hast espoused by saith and compassion to love thee her true God and glorious bridegroom EPIG. 4. My soul thy love is dear 'T was thought a good And easie pen'worth of thy Saviours bloud But be not proud All matters rightly scann'd 'T was over-brought 'T was sold at second hand V. CANTICLES 5. 6. My Soul melted whilst my Beloved spake LOrd has the feeble voyce of flesh and bloud The pow'r to work thine ears into a floud Of melted mercy or the strength t' unlock The gates of Heav'n and to dissolve a rock Of marble clouds into a morning show'r Or hath the breath of whining dust the pow'r To stop or snatch a falling thunderbolt From thy fierce hand and make thy hand revolt From resolute confusion and in stead Of vyals poure full blessings on our head Or shall the wants of famisht ravens cry And move thy mercy to a quick supply Or shall the silent suits of drooping flow'rs Woo thee for drops and be refresh'd with show'rs Alas what marvel then great God what wonder If thy hell-rouzing voice that splits in sunder The brazen portals of eternall death What wonder if that life-restoring breath Which dragg'd me from th' infernall shades of night Should melt my ravisht soul with ore-delight O can my frozen gutters choose but run That feel the warmth of such a glorious Sun Me thinks his language like a flaming arrow Doth pierce my bones and melts their wounded marrow Thy flames O Cupid though the joyfull heart Feels neither tang of grief nor fears the smart Of jealous doubts but drunk with full desires Are torments weigh'd with these celestiall fires Pleasures that ravish in so high a measure That O I languish in excesse of pleasure What ravisht heart that feels these melting joyes Would not despise and loath the treach'rous toyes Of dunghill earth what soul would not be proud Of wry-mouth'd scorns the worst that flesh and bloud Had rancour to devise Who would not bear The worlds derision with a thankfull eare What palat would refuse full bowls of spight To gain a minutes tast of such delight Great spring of light in whom there is no shade But what my interposed sinnes have made Whose marrow-melting fires admit no screen But what my own rebellions put between Their precious flames and my obdurate eare Disperse these plague-distilling clouds and clear My mungy soul into a glorious day Transplant this screen remove this barre away Then then my fluent soul shall feel the fires Of thy sweet voyce and my dissolv'd desires Shall turn a sov'reigne balsame to make whole Those wounds my sinnes inflicted on thy soul S. AUGUST Soliloq cap. 34. What fire is this that so warmeth my heart What light is this that so enlightneth my soul O fire that alwayes burnest and never goest out kindle me O light which ever shinest and art never darkned illuminate me O that I had my heat from thee most holy fire How sweetly dost thou burn How secretly dost thou shine How desiderably dost thou inflame me BONAVENT Stim amoris cap. 8. It maketh God man and man God things temporall eternall mortall immortall it maketh an enemy a friend a servant a sonne 〈◊〉 things glorious cold hearts siery and hard things liquid EPIG. 5. My soul thy gold is true but full of drosse Thy Saviours breath resines thee with some losse His gentle fornace makes thee pure as true Thou must be melted ere th' art cast anew VI PSALME 73. 25. Whom have I in Heaven but thee and what desire I on earth in respect of thee 1 I Love and have some cause to love the earth She is my Makers creature therefore good She is my Mother for she gave me birth She is my tender Nurse she gives me food But what 's a Creature Lord compar'd with thee Or what 's my Mother or my Nurse to me 2 I love the Aire her dainty sweets refresh My drooping soul and to new sweets invite me Her shrill-mouth'd quire sustain me with their flesh And with their Polyphonian notes delight me But what 's the Aire or all the sweets that she Can blesse my soul withall compar'd to thee 3 I love the Sea She is my fellow-creature My carefull purveyer she provides me store She walls me round she makes my diet greater She wafts my treasure from a forrein shore But Lord of oceans when compar'd with thee What is the Ocean or her wealth to me 4 To Heav'ns high citie I direct my journey Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye Mine eye by contemplations great atturney Transcends the crystall pavement of the skie But what is Heav'n great God compar'd to thee Without thy presence Heav'n 's no Heav'n to me 5 Without thy presence Earth gives no refection Without thy presence Sea affords no treasure Without thy presence Air 's a rank 〈◊〉 Without thy presence Heav'n it self 's no pleasure If not possest if not enjoy'd in thee What 's Earth or Sea or Air or Heav'n to me 6 The highest Honours that the world can boast Are subjects farre too low for my desire The brightest beams of glory are at most But dying sparkles of thy living fire The proudest flames that earth can kindle be But nightly Glow-worms if compar'd to thee 7 Without thy presence wealth are bags of cares Wisdome but folly Joy disquiet sadnesse Friendship is treason and Delights are snares Pleasures but pain and Mirth but pleasing madnesse Without thee Lord things be not what they be Nor have they being when compar'd with thee 8 In having all things and not thee what have I Not having thee what have my labours got Let me enjoy but thee what farther crave I And having thee alone what have I not I wish nor Sea nor Land nor would I be Possest of Heav'n Heav'n unpossest of thee BONAVINT cap. 1. Soliloq Alas my God now I understand but blush to consesse that the beautie of thy Creatures hath
dawb'd with slesh and bloud Hang'd round with silks and gold repair'd with food Cost idly spent That cost doth but prolong Thy thraldome Fool thou mak'st thy jail too strong IX PHILIPPIANS 1. 23. I am in a strait between two having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ 1 WHat meant our carefull parents so to wear And lavish out their ill expended houres To purchase for us large possessions here Which though unpurchas'd are too truly ours What meant they ah what meant they to indure Such loads of needlesse labour to procure And make that thing our own which was our own too sure 2 What mean these liv'ries and possessive keyes What mean these bargains and these needlesse sales What need these jealous these suspitious wayes Of law-divis'd and law-dissolv'd entails No need to sweat for gold wherewith to buy Estates of high-priz'd land no need to tie Earth to their heirs were they but clogg'd with earth as I. 3 O were their souls but clogg'd with earth as I They would not purchase with so 〈◊〉 an itch They would not take of almes what now they buy Nor call him happy whom the world counts rich They would not take such pains project and prog To charge their shoulders with so great a log Who hath the greater lands hath but the greater clog 4 I cannot do an act which earth disdains not I cannot think a thought which earth corrupts not I cannot speak a word which earth profanes not I cannot make a vow earth interrupts not If I but offer up an early grone Or spread my wings to Heav'ns long-long'd for throne She darkens my complaints and drags my offering down 5 〈◊〉 like the hawk whose keepers wary hands Have made a prisner to her wethring stock Forgetting quite the pow'r of her fast bands Makes a rank bate from her forsaken block But her too faithfull 〈◊〉 doth soon restrain Her broken flight attempted oft in vain It gives her loyns a twitch and tugs her back again 6 So when my soul directs her better eye To Heav'ns bright Pallace where my treasure lies I spread my willing wings but cannot fly Earth hales me down I cannot cannot rise When I but strive to mount the least degree Earth gives a jerk and foils me on my knee Lord how my soul is rackt betwixt the world and thee 7 Great God I spread my feeble wings in vain In vain I offer my extended hands I cannot mount till thou unlink my chain I cannot come till thou release my bands Which if thou please to break and then supply My wings with spirit th' Eagle shall not sly A pitch that 's half so fair nor half so swift as I. BONAVENT cap. 1. Soliloq Ah sweet Jesus pierce the marrow of my seul with the 〈◊〉 shafts of thy love that it may truly burn and melt and languish with the onely desire of thee that it may desire to be dissolved and to be with thee Let it hunger alone for the bread of life let it thirst after thee the spring and fountain of eternall light the stream of true pleasure let it alwaies desire thee seek thee and find thee and sweetly rest in thee EPIG. 9. What will thy shackles neither loose nor break Are they too strong or is thy arm too weak Art will prevail where knotty strength denies My soul there 's Aquasortis in thine eyes X. PSALM 142. 7. Bring my soul out of prison that I may prayse thy name MY Soul is like a bird my slesh the cage Wherein she wears her weary pilgrimage Of houres as few as evil dayly fed With sacred wine and sacramentall bread The keyes that lock her in and let her out Are Birth and Death 'twixt both she hops about From perch to perch from sense to reason then From higher reason down to sense again From sense she climbs to faith where for a season She sits and sings then down again to reason From reason back to faith and straight from thence She rudely slutters to the perch of sense From sense to hope then hops from hope to doubt From doubt to dull despair there seeks about For desp'rate freedome and at ev'ry grate She wildly thrusts and begs th' untimely date Of unexpired thraldome to release Th' afflicted captive that can find no peace Thus am I coop'd within this fleshly cage I wear my youth and wast my weary age Spending that breath which was ordain'd to chaunt Heav'ns prayses forth in sighes and sad complaint Whilst happier birds can spread their nimble wing From shrubs to cedars and there chirp and sing In choice of raptures the harmonious story Of mans redemption and his Makers glory You glorious Martyrs you illustrious troops That once were cloyster'd in your fleshly coops As fast as I what rhet'rick had your tonguâ—…s What dextrous Art had your Elegiak songs What Paul-like pow'r had your admir'd devotion What shackle-breaking faith infus'd such motion To your strong prayers that could obtain the boon To be inlarg'd to be uncag'd so soon When I poore I can sing my dayly tears Grown old in bondage and can find no ears You great partakers of eternall glory That with your Heav'n-prevailing Oratory Releas'd your souls from your terrestriall cage Permit the passion of my holy rage To recommend my sorrows dearly known To you in dayes of old and once your own To your best thoughts but oh't doth not befit ye To move your pray'rs you love and joy not pittie Great Lord of souls to whom should prisners slie But thee Thou hadst thy cage as well as I And for my sake thy pleasure was to know The sorrows that it brought and felâ—…st them too O set me free and I will spend those daves Which now I wast in begging in thy prayse ANSELM in Protolog cap. 1. O miserable condition of mankind that has lost that for which he was created Alas what hath he lost And what hath he found He hath lost happinesse for which he was made and found misery for which he was not made What is gone and what is lest That thing is gone without which he is unhappy that thing is left by which he is miserable O wretched men From whence are we expelled To what are we impelled whence are we thrown And whither are we burried From our home into banishment from the sight of God into our own 〈◊〉 from the pleasure of immortalitie to the bitterâ—…esse of death Miserable change from how great a good to how great an evil Ah me what have I enterprised what haâ—…e I done whither did I go whither am I come EPIG. 10. Pauls midnight-voyce prevail'd his musicks thunder Unhing'd the prison doores split bolts in sunder And sitst thou here and hang'st the feble wing And whin'st to be enlarg'd soul learn to sing XI PSALM 42. 1. As the Hart panteth after the water-brooks so panteth my soul after thee O God 1 HOw shall my tongue expresse that hallow'd fire Which Heav'n hath
towre Above the sent of these inferiour things How happy is the Lark that ev'ry howre Leaves earth and then for joy mounts up and sings Had my dull soul but wings as well as they How I would spring from earth and clip away As wise Astrea did and scorn this ball of clay 3 O how my soul would spurn this ball of clay And loath the dainties of earths painfull pleasure O how I 'de laugh to see men night and day Turmoyl to gain that trash they call their treasure O how I 'de smile to see what plots they lay To catch a blast or own a smile from Cesar Had I the pineons of a mounting Dove How I would sore and sing and hate the love Of transitory toyes and feed on joyes above 4 There should I find that everlasting pleasure Which change removes not which chance prevents not There should I find that everlasting treasure Which force deprives not fortune dis-augments not There should I sind that everlasting Cesar Whose hand recalls not and whose heart repents not Had I the pineons of a clipping Dove How I would climb the skies and hate the love Of transitory toyes and joy in things above 5 No rank-mouth'd slander there shall give offence Or blast our blooming names as here they do No liver-scalding lust shall there incense Our boyling veins There is no Cupids bow Lord give my soul the milk-white innocence Of Doves and I shall have their pineons too Had I the pineons of a sprightly Dove How I would quit this earth and sore above And Heav'ns blest kingdome find with Heav'ns blest King Jehove S. AUGUST in Psal. 128. What wings should I desire but the two precepts of love on which the Law and the Prophets depend O if I could obtain these wings I could fly from thy sace to thy face from the face of thy Justice to the face of thy Mercy Let us find those wings by love which we have lost by lust S. AUGUST in Psal. 76. Let us cast off whatsoever hindereth entangleth or burdeneth our flight untill we attain that which satisfieth beyond which nothing is beneath which all things are of which all things are EPIG. 13. Tell me my wishing soul didst ever trie How fast the wings of red-crost faith can slie Why begg'st thou then the pineons of a Dove Faiths wings are swifter but the swiftest love XIV PSALM 84. 1. How amiable are thy Tabernacles O God of Hosts ANcient of dayes to whom all times are Now Before whose Glory Seraphims do bow Their blushing cheeks and veil their blemisht faces That uncontain'd at once dost fill all places How glorious O how farre beyond the height Of puzzled quils or the obtuse conceit Of flesh and bloud or the too flat reports Of mortall tongues are thy expreslesse courts Whose glory to paint forth with greater Art Ravish my fancy and inspire my heart Excuse my bold attempt and pardon me For shewing sense what faith alone should see Ten thousand millions and tne thousand more Of angel-measur'd leagues from th' Eastern shore Of dungeon earth this glorious Palace stands â—…efore whose pearly gates ten thousand bands Of armed angels wait to entertain Those purged souls for whom the Lamb was slain Whose guilâ—…lesse death and voluntary yielding Of whose giv'n life gave this brave court her building The lukewarm bloud of this dear Lamb being spilt To rubies turn'd whereof her posts were built And what dropt down in cold and gelid gore Did turn rich Saphyres and impav'd her floore The brighter flames that from his ey-balls ray'd Grew Chrysolites whereof her walls were made The milder glances sparkled on the ground And groundsild every doore with Diamond But dying darted upwards and did fix A battlement of purest Sardonix Her streets with burnisht gold are paved round Starres lie like pebbles scattred on the ground Pearl mixt with Onyx and the Jasper stone Made gravell'd causwayes to be tâ—…ampled on There shines no Sun by day no Moon by night The Pallace glory is the Pallace light There is no time to measure motion by There Time is swallow'd with Eternitie Wry-mouth'd Disdain and corner-haunting Lust And twy-sac'd Fraud and beetle-brow'd Distrust Soul-boyling Rage and trouble-state Sedition And giddy Doubt and goggle-ey'd Suspition And lumpish Sorrow and degen'rous Fear Are banisht thence and Death 's a stranger there But simple Love and sempiternall Joyes Whose sweetnesse neither gluts nor fulnesse cloyes Where face to face our ravish't eye shall see Great Eâ—…OHIM that glorious One in Three And Three in One and seeing him shall blesse him And blessing love him and in love possesse him Here stay my soul and ravish in relation Thy words being spent spend now in contemplation S. GREG. in Psal. 7. poenitent Sweet Jesus the word of the Father the brightnesse of paternall glory whom Angels delight to view teach me to do thy will that led by thy good Spirit I may come to that blessed Citie where day is eternall where there is certain securitie and secure eternitie and eternall peace and peacefull happinesse and happy sweetnesse and sweet pleasure where thou O God with the Father and the holy Spirit livest and reignest world without end Ibid. There is light without darknesse joy without grief desire without punishment love without sadnesse 〈◊〉 without loathing safetie without fear health without disease and life without death EPIG. 14. My soul pry not too nearly the complexion Of Sols bright face is seen but by reslexion But wouldst thou know what 's heav'n I 'll tell thee what Think what thou canst not think and heav'n is that XV CANTICLES 8. 14. Make hast my Beloved and be like the Roe or the young Hart upon the mountains of Spices GO gentle tyrant go thy flames do pierce My soul to deep thy flames are too too fiâ—…rce My marrow melts my fainting spirits fry I' th' torrid Zone of thy Meridian eye Away away thy sweets are too perfuming Turn turn thy face thy fires are too consuming Hast hence and let thy winged steps out-go The frighted Ro-buck and his flying Ro. But wilt thou leave me then O thou that aâ—…t Life of my soul soul of my dying heart Without the sweet aspect of whose fair eyes My soul doth languish and her solace dies Art thou so easily woo'd so apt to heare The frantick language of my foolish fear Leave leave me not nor turn thy beauty from me Look look upon me though thine eyes o'rcome me O how they wound but how my wounds content me How sweetly these delightfull pains torment me How I am tortur'd in excessive measure Of pleasing cruelties too cruel pleasure Turn turn away remove thy scorching beams I languish with these bitter-sweet extremes Hast then and let thy winged steps out-go The flying Ro-buck and his frighted Ro. Turn back my dear O let my ravisht eye Once more behold thy face before thou fly What shall we part without a mutuall kisse O who can leave so sweet a face
kindled in my ravisht heart What Muse shall I invoke that will inspire My lowly quill to act a loftie part What Art shall I devise t' expresse desire Too intricate to be exprest by Art Let all the nine be silent I refuse Their aid in this high task for they abuse The flames of love too much assist me Davids Muse 2 Not as the thirsty soyl desires soft show'rs To quicken and refresh her Embryon grain Nor as the drooping crests of fading flow'rs Request the bountie of a morning rain Do I desire my God these in few houres Re-wish what late their wishes did obtein But as the swift-foot Hart doth wounded flie To th' much desired streams ev'n so do I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 3 Before a pack of deep-mouth'd lusts I flâ—…e O they have singled out my panting heart And wanton Cupid sitting in a tree Hath pierc'd my bosome with a flaming dart My soul being spent for refuge seeks to thee But cannot find where thou my refuge art Like as the swift-foot Hart doth wounded flie To the desired stâ—…eams ev'n so do I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 4 At length by flight I over-went the pack Thou drew'st the wanton daâ—…t from out my wound The bloud that follow'd left a puâ—…ple track Which brought a Serpent but in â—…hape a Hound We strove he bit me but thou brak'st his back I left him grov'ling on th' envenom'd ground But as the Serpent-bitten Hart doth slie To the long-long'd for streams ev'n so did I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 5 If lust should chase my soul made swift by fright Thou art the stâ—…eams whereto my soul is bound Or if a jav'lin wound my sides in flight Thou art the balsame that must cure my wound If povson chance t' infest my soul in fight Thou art the treade that must make me sound Ev'n as the wounded Hart embost doth slie To th' streams extremely long'd for so do I Paâ—…t after thee my God whom I must find or die CYP. lib. 5. in Joh. cap. 10. Oprecious water which quencbeth the noysome thirst of this world that scoureth all the stains os sinners that watereth tâ—…e earth of our souls with heavenly showers and bringeth back the thirsty heart of man to his onely God! S. AUGUST Soliloq 35. O fountain of life and vein of living waters when shall I leave this forsaken impassible and dry earth and tast the waters of thy sweetnesse that I may behold thy virtue and thy glory and slake my thirst with the streams of thy mercy Lord I thirst Thou art the spring of life 〈◊〉 me I thirst Lord I thirst aste thee the living God! EPIG. 11. The arrow-smitten Hart deep wounded slies To th' springs with water in his weeping eyes Heav'n is thy spring If Satans fiery dart Pierce thy faint sides do so my wounded Heart XII PSALM 42. 2. When shall I come and appear before God WHat is my soul the better to be tin'd With holy fire what boots it to be coyn'd With Heav'ns own stamp what vantage can there be To souls of Heav'n-descended pedegree More then to beasts that grovel Are not they Fed by th' Almighties hand and ev'ry day Fill'd with his blessing too Do they not see God in his Creatures as direct as we Do they not tast thee hear thee nay what sense Is not partaker of thine Excellence What more do we Alas what serves our reason But like dark lanthorns to accomplish treason With greater closenesse It affords no light Brings thee no nearer to our purblind sight No pleasure rises up the least degree Great God but in the clearer view of thee What priv'ledge more then sense hath reason than What vantage is it to be born a man How often hath my patience built dear Lord Vain tow'rs of Hope upon thy gracious Word How often hath thy Hope reviving Grace Woo'd my suspitious eyes to seek thy face How often have I sought thee Oh how long Hath expectation taught my perfect tongue Repeated pray'rs yet pray'rs could ne'r obtain In vain I seek thee and I beg in vain If it be high presumption to behold Thy face why didst thou make mine eyes so bold To seek it If that object be too bright For mans aspect why did thy lips invite Mine eye t' expect it If it might be seen Why is this envious curtain drawn between My darkned eye and it O tell me why Thou dost command the thing thou dost deny Why dost thou give me so unpâ—…iz'd a treasure And then deny'st my greedy soul the pleasure To view thy gift Alas that gift is void And is no gift that may not be enjoy'd If those refulgent beams of Heav'ns great light Guild not the day what is the day but night The drouzie shepherd sleeps flow'rs droop and fade The birds are sullen and the beast is sad But if bright Titan dart his golden ray And with his riches glorifie the day The jolly shepherd pipes flow'rs freshly spring The beast growes gamesome and the birds they sing Thou art my Sun great God O when shall I View the full beams of thy Meridian eye Draw draw this fleshly curtain that denies The gracious presence of thy glorious eyes Or give me faith and by the eye of grace I shall behold thee though not face to face S. AUGUST in Psal. 39. Who created all things is better then all things who beauâ—…ified all things is more beautifull then all things who made strength is stronger then all things who made great things is greater then all things Whatsoever thou lovest he is that to thee Learn to love the workman in his work the Creatour in his creature Let not that which was made by him possesse thee lest thou lose him by whom thy self was made S. AUGUST Med. cap. 37. O thou most sweet most gracious most amiable most fair when shall I see thee when shall I be satisfied with thy beautie When wilt thou lead me from this dark dungeon that I may consesse thy name EP 10. 12. How art thou shaded in this veil of night Behind thy curtain slesh thou seest no light But what thy pride doth challenge as her own Thy slesh is 〈◊〉 soul take this curtain down XIII PSALM 55. 6. O that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would flie away and be at rest 1 ANd am I sworn a dunghill slave for ever To earths base drudg'ry shall I never find A night of rest shall my indentures never Be cancell'd did injurious Nature bind My soul earths prentice with no clause to leave her No day of freedome must I ever grind O that I had the pinions of a Dove That I might quit my bands and sore above And poure my just complaints before the great Jehove 2 How happy are the Doves that have the pow'r When ere they please to spread their ayry wings Or cloud-dividing Eagles that can