it Eyes â—ands and armes tongues eares and hearts of men Sing praise and let the people say Amen ¶ Tune you your Instruments and let them vary Praise him upon them in his Sanctuary Praise him within the highest Firmament Which shewes his Power and his Government Praise him for all his mighty Acts are knowne And suit thy praises to his high Renowne Praise him with Trump victorious shrill sharpe With Psaltry lowd and many-stringed Harpe With sounding Timbrell and the warbling Flute With Musicks full Interpreter the Lute Praise him upon the Maiden Virginalls Vpon the Clerick Organs and Cymballs Vpon the sweet Majestick Vyalls touch Double your joyes and let your prayse be such Let all in whom is life and breath give praise To heav'ns eternall God in endlesse dayes Let every Soule to whom a voyce is given Sing Holy Holy Holy Lord of Heaven For loe a Lambe is found that undertooke To break the seven-fold-Seale ope the BOOK◠¶ O let my life adde number to my dayes To shew thy glory and to sing thy praise Let every minute in thy praise be spent Let every head be bare and knee be bent To thee deare Lambe Who ere thy praises hide Clos'd be his Lippes and tongue for ever ty'de Hallelujah Gloria DEO in excelsis ELEVEN PIOVS Meditations 1. ¶ WIthin the holy Legend I discover Three speciall Attributes of God his Power His Iustice and his Mercy All uncreated Eternall all and all unseparated From Gods pure Essence and from thence proceeding All very God All perfect All exceeding And from that selfe-same text three names I gather Of great lehova Lord and God and Father The first denotes him mounted on his Throne In Power Majesty Dominion The second shewes him on his kingly Bench Rewarding Evill with equall punishments The third describes him on his Mercy-seat Full great in Grace and in his Mercy great ¶ All three I worship and before all three My heart shall humbly prostrate with my knee But in my private choice I fancy rather Then call him Lord or God to call him Father 2. ¶ IN hell no Life in heaven no Death there is In earth both Life and Death both Bale and Blis In Heaven 's all Life no end nor new supplying In hell 's all Death and yet there is no dying Earth like a partiall Ambidexter doth Prepare for Death or Life prepares for both Who lives to sinne in Hell his portion 's given Who dyes to sinne shall after live in Heaven ¶ Though Earth my Nurse be Heaven bee thou my Father Ten thousand deaths let me endure rather Within my Nurses armes then One to Thee Earths honour with thy frownes is death to mee I live on Earth as on a Stage of sorrow Lord if thou pleasest end the Play to morrow I live on Earth as in a Dreame of pleasure Awake me when thou wilt I wait thy leisure I live on Earth but as of life bereaven My life 's with thee for Lord thou art in Heaven 3. NOthing that e'r was made was made for nothing Beasts for thy food their skins were for thy clothing Flowers for thy smell and â—earbs for Cure good Trees for thy shade Their Fruit for pleasing Food The showers fall upon the fruitfull ground Whose kindly Dew makes tender Grasse abound The Grasse springs forth for beasts to feed upon And Beasts are food for Man but Man alone Is made to serve his Lord in all his wayes And be the Trumpet of his Makers praise ¶ Let Heav'n be then to me obdure as brasse The Earth as iron unapt for graine or grasse Then let my Flocks consume and never steed mee Let pinching Famine want wherewith to feed mee When I forget to honour thee my Lord Thy glorious Attributes thy Workes thy Word O let the Trump of thine eternall Fame Teach us to answer Hallow'd be thy Name 4. ¶ GOd built the World and all that therein is He framed yet how poore a part is his Quarter the Earth and see how small a rome Is stiled with the name of Christeâ— dome The rest through blinded ignorance rebels O're-runne with Pagans Turkes and Infidels Nor yet is all this little quarter his For though all know him halfe know him amisse Professing Chrâ—â—â— for lucre as they lâ—st And serve the triple Crowne of Anâ—â—â—hrist Yet is this little handfull much made lesser There 's many Lâ—â—ertines for one Prâ—fessour Nor doe Professours all professe aright ' Mong ' whom there often lurks an Hypocrite ¶ O where and what 's thy Kingdome blessed God Where is thy Scepter where 's thine iron Rod Reduce thy reck'nings to their totall summe O let thy Power and thy kingdome come 5. ¶ MAN in himselfe 's a little World Alone His Soul 's the Court or high Imperiall throne Wherein as Empresse sits the Vnderstanâ—ing Gently directing yet with awe Commanding Her Handmaid's will Affections Maids of Honour All following close and duely waiting on her But Sin that alwayes envi'd mans Condition Within this Kingdome raised up Division Withdrawne the Will and brib'd the false Affection That This no order hath nor That Election The Will proves Traitor to the Vnderstanding Reason hath lost her power and left commanding She 's quite depos'd and put to foule disgrace And Tyrant Passion now usurps her place ¶ Vouchsafe Lord in this little World of mine To raigne that I may raigne with Thee in thine And since my Will is quite of good bereaven Thy will be done in earth as 't is in Heaven 6 ¶ WHo live to sin are all but theeves to hearÌ„ And Earth They steale froÌ„ God take ungiveÌ„ Good men they rob such as live upright And being bastards share the freemans Right They 're all as owners in the owners stead And like to Dogs devoure the childrens bread They have and lacke and want that they possesse Vnhappy most in their most happinesse They are not goods but riches that they wast And not beâ—ng goods to ev'ls they turne at last ¶ Lord what I have let me enjoy in thee And thee in it or else take it from mee My store or want make thou or fade or flourish So shall my comforts neither change nor perish That little I enjoy Lord make it mine In making mee that am a Sinner thine 'T is thou or none that shall supply my need Great God Give us this day our daily bread 7. ¶ THe quick conceited Schoole-men doe approve A difference 'twixt Charity and Love Love is a vertue whereby we explaine Our selves to God and God to us againe But Charitie 's imparted to our Brother Whereby we trafficke one man with another The first extends to God The last belongs To Man in giving right and bearing wrongs In number they are twaine In vertue one For one not truely being t' other's none ¶ In loving God if I neglect my Neighbour My love hath lost his proofe and I my labour My Zeale my Faith my Hope that never failes me If
should stand As lyable to a severer hand Fond soule beware who e're thou art that spies Anothers fault that thou thine owne chastise Lest like a foolish man thou judge another In those selfe-crimes which in your brest you smotherâ— Who undertakes to dreine his brothers eye Of noisome Humours first must clarifie His owne lest when his brothers blemish is Remov'd he spie a fouler Blame in his It is beyond th' extent of Mans Commission To judge of Man The secret disposition Of Sacred Providence is lockt and seal'd From mans conceit and not to be reveal'd Vntill that Lambe breake ope the Seale and come With life and death to give the world her doome The ground-worke of our faith must not relie On bare Events Peace and Prosperity Are goodly favours but no proper Marke Wherewith God brands his Sheepe No outward barke Secures the body to be sound within The Rich man liv'd in Scarletâ— dyed in Sinne. Behold th' afflicted man affliction moves Compassion but no confusion proves A gloomy Day brings oft a glorious Even The Poore man dy'd with sores and lives in heaveÌ„ To good and bad both fortunes Heaven doth share That both an after-change may hope and feare I 'le hope the best Lord leave the rest to thee Lest while I judge another thou judge me It 's one mans worke to have a serious sight Of his owne sinnes and judge himselfe aright THE ARGVMENT Zophar blames Iob Iob equall makes His wisdome unto theirs He takes In hand to pleade with God and then Describes the fraile estate of men Sect. 10. THen Zophar from deepe silence did awake His words with louder language and bespake Shall Pratlers bee unanswe'rd or shall such Be counted just that speake for babbling much Shal thy words stop our mouths he that hath blamd And scoft at others shall he die unsham'd Our cares have heard thee when thou hast excus'd Thy selfe of evill and thy God accus'd But if thy God should pleade with thee at large thou 'dst reape the sorrows of a double charge Canâ—t thou by deepe inquiry understand The hidden Iustice of th' Almighties hand Heavens large dimensions cannot coÌ„prehend him What e're hee doe what 's he can reprehend him What refuge hast thou then but to present A heart inricht with the sad compliment Of a true convert on thy bended knee Before thy God t' attone thy God and thee Then doubt not but hee 'll reare thee from thy sorrow Disperse thy Clouds and like a shining Morrow Make cleare the Sun-beames of Prosperity And rest thy soule in sweet Security But he whose heart obdur'd in sinne persists His hopes shall vanish as the morning Mists But Iob even as a Ball against the ground Banded with violence did thus rebound You are the onely wisemen in your brests The hidden Magazen of true Wisdome rests Yet though astund with sorrowes doe I know A little and perchance as much as you I 'm scorned of my Friends whose prosprous state Surmises me that have expir'd the date Of earths faire Fortunes to be cast away From heavens regard think none belov'd but they I am despised like a Torch that 's spent Whiles that the wicked blazes in his Tent What have your wisdoms taught me more thaÌ„ that Which birds beasts could they but fpeak would chat Digests the Stomack e're the Pallat tastes O weigh my Words before you judge my case But you referre me to our Fathers dayes To be instructed in their wiser Layes True length of dayes brings Wisdome but I say I have a wiser teacheth me than they For I am taught and tutor'd by that Hand Whose unresisted power doth command The limits of the Earth whose VVisdome schooles And traines the simple makes the learned fooles His hand doth raise the poore deposes Kings On him both Order and the change of things Depend he searches and brings forth the light From out the shadowes and the depth of night All this mine owne Experience hath found true And in all this I know as much as you But you averre If I should plead with God That he would double his severer Rod. Your tongue belies his Iustice you apply Amisse your Med'cine to my Malady In silence you would seeme more wise lesse weake You having spoke now lend me leave to speake Will you doe wrong to doe Gods Iustice right Are you his Counsell Need you helpe to fight His quarrels Or expect you his applause Thus brib'd with selfe-conceit to plead his cause Iudgement 's your Fee when as you take in hand Heavens cause to plead it and not Heav'n coÌ„mand If that the foulnesse of your censures could Not fright you yet me thinks his greatness should Whose Iustice you make Patron of your lies Your slender Maximes and false Forgeries Are substanc't like thedust that flyes besides me Peace then and I will speake what e're betides me My soule is on the rack my tears have drown'd me Yet will I trust my God though God confound me He He 's my Towre of strength No hypocrite Stands unconfounded in his glorious sight Ballance my words I know my case would quit Me from your censures should I argue it Who takes the Plaintifes pleading Come for I Must plead my right or else perforce must die With thee great Lord of Heaven I dare dispute If thou wilt grant me this my double Suit First that thou slake these sorrows that surrouÌ„d me Then that thy burning Face doe not confound me Which granted then take thou thy choyce let me Propound the question or else answer Thee Why dost thou thus pursue me like thy Foe For what great sinne dost thou afflict me so Break'st thou a withred Leafe thy Iustice doth Summe up the reckonings of my sinfull youth Thou keep'st me pris'ner bound in fetters fast And like a thred-bare garment doe I wast Man borne of Woman hath but a short while To live his dayes are fleet and full of toyle Hee 's like a Flower shooting forth and dying His life is as a Shadow swiftly flying Ah! b'ing so poore a thing what needst thou minde him The number of his dayes thou hast confin'd him Then adde not plagues unto his Griefe O give Him peace that hath so small a time to live Tree's that are fell'd may sprout again man never His dayes are numbred and he dyes for ever He 's like a Mist exhaled by the Sunne His dayes once done they are for ever done O that thy Hand would hide me close and cover Me in the Grave till all thy Wrath were over My desperate sorrows hope for no reliefe Yet will I waite my Change My day of griefe Will be exchang'd for an Eternall day Of joy But now thou dost not spare to lay Full heapes of vengeance on my broken soule And writâ—st my sinnes upon an ample scrowle As â—ountaines being shaken fall and Rocks Though firm are worn rent with many knocks So strongest men are batterd with thy strength Loose ground returning to the Ground
the God of Love's as blinde as hee 〈◊〉 that they brought poore Samson to the Hall 〈◊〉 as he past he gropes to finde the wall 〈◊〉 paâ—â— was slow His feet were lifted high 〈◊〉 tongue would taunt him Every scornfull eye 〈◊〉 filld with laughter Some would cry aloud 〈◊〉 in state His Lordship is growne proud 〈◊〉 bid his honour â—asle whilst others cast â—prochfull termes upon him as he past 〈◊〉 would salute him fairely and embrace 〈◊〉 wounded sides then spit upon his face 〈◊〉 would cry For shame for heare t' abuse 〈◊〉 high and great redeemer of the Iewes 〈◊〉 gibe and flout him with their taunts quip◠〈◊〉 others flurt him on the starting lips 〈◊〉 that poore Samson whose abundant griefe 〈…〉 hopes of comfort or reliefe Resolv'd for patience Turning round he made Some shift to feele his Keeper out and said Good Sir my painfull labour in the Mill Hath made me bold although against my will To crave some little rest If you will please To let the Pillour but afford some ease To my worne limmes your mercy should relieve A soule that has no more but thanks to give The keeper yeelded Now the Hall was filld With Princes and their People that beheld Abused Samson whilst the Roofe retain'd A leash of thousands more whose eyes were chainâ—â— To this sad Object with a full delight To see this flesh-and-blood-relenting sight With that the pris'ner turnd himselfe and pray'd So soft that none but heaven could heare and saidâ— My God my God Although my sinnes doe cry For greater vengeance yet thy gratious eye Is full of mercy O remember now The gentle promise and that sacred vow Thou mad'st to faithfull Abram and his seed O heare my wounded soule that has lesse need Of life then mercy Let thy tender eare Make good thy plenteous promise now and heare See how thy cursed enemies prevaile Above my strength Behold how poore and fraile My native power is and wanting thee What is there Oh what is there Lord in me Nor is it I that suffer My desert May challenge greater vengeance if thou wert â—xtreme to punish Lord the wrong is thine The punishment is just and onely mine I am thy Champion Lord It is not me They strike at Through my sides they thrust at thee 〈◊〉 thy Glory 't is their Malice lies 〈◊〉 at that when they put out these eyes 〈◊〉 their blood-bâ—dabl'd hands would flie 〈…〉 thou but cloth'd in flesh as I 〈◊〉 thy wrongs great God O let thy hand 〈◊〉 thy suffring honour and this land 〈◊〉 â—e thy power Renew my wasted strength 〈…〉 fight thy bâ—ttels and at length 〈◊〉 thy glory that my hands may do 〈◊〉 faithfull service they were borne unto 〈…〉 thy power that I may restore 〈◊〉 and I will never urge thee more 〈◊〉 having ended both his armes he laid 〈◊〉 the pillours of the Hall and said 〈◊〉 with the Philistines I resigne my breath 〈◊〉 let my God finde Glory in my death 〈◊〉 having spoke his yeelding body strain'd 〈◊〉 those Marble pillours that sustain'd 〈◊〉 pondrous Roofe They cracket and with their fall 〈◊〉 fell the Battlements and Roofe and all 〈◊〉 with their ruines slaughter'd at a blow 〈◊〉 whole Assembly They that were below 〈◊〉 their sudden deaths from those that fell 〈◊〉 off the top whilst none was left to tell 〈◊〉 horrid shreckes that filld the spatious Hall 〈◊〉 ruines were impartiall and slew all 〈◊〉 fell and with an unexpected blow 〈◊〉 every one his death and buriall too Thus di'd our Samson whose brave death has won 〈◊〉 honour then his honourd life had done 〈◊〉 di'd our Conquerour whose latest breath 〈◊〉 crown'd with Conquest triumph'd over death 〈◊〉 di'd our Sampson whose last drop of blood â—deem'd heavn's glory and his Kingdome 's good Thus di'd heavens Champion and the earths bright Glory The heavenly subject of this sacred Story And thus th' impartiall hand of death that gathers All to the Grave repos'd him with his fathers Whose name shall flourish and be still in prime In spight of ruine or the teeth of Time Whose fame shal last till heaven shal please to free This Earth from Sinne and Time shall cease to be Medita 23. WAges of sinne is death The day must come Wherin the equall hand of death must sum The severall Items of mans fading glory Into the easie totall of one Story The browes that sweat for Kingdomes and renown To glorifie their Temples with a Crowne At length grow cold and leave their honourd name To flourish in th' uncertaine blast of Fame This is the heighth that glorious Mortalls can Attaine This is the highest pitch of Man The quilted Quarters of the Earths great Ball Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreame Ambition to deserve Six foote of length and three of bredth must serve This is the highest pitch that Man can flie And after all his Triumph he must die Lives he in Wealth Does well deserved store Limit his wish that he can wish no more And does the fairest bounty of encrease Crown him with plenty and his dayes with peaceâ— It is a right hand blessing But supply Of wealth cannot secure him He must die Lives he in Pleasure Does perpetuall mirth 〈◊〉 him a little Heaven upon his earth â—eets he no sullen care no sudden losse 〈◊〉 coole his joyes Breathes hee without a crosse â—ants he no pleasure that his wanton eye 〈◊〉 crave or hope from fortune He must dye 〈◊〉 he in Honour Hath his faire desart â—â—tain'd the freedome of his Princes heart 〈◊〉 may his more familiar hands disburse 〈◊〉 liberall favors from the royall purse 〈◊〉 his Honour cannot soare too high 〈◊〉 palefac'd death to follow He must dye Lives he a Conqu'rour And doth heaven blesse 〈◊〉 heart with spirit that spirit with successe Successe with Glory Glory with a name To live with the Eternitie of Fame The progresse of his lasting fame may vye With time But yet the Conquerour must dye Great and good God Thou Lord of life and deth 〈◊〉 whom the Creature hath his being breath Teach me to underprize this life and I Shall finde my losse the easier when I dye So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire That when these vaine and weary dayes expire I may discard my flesh with joy and quit My better part of this false earth and it Of some more sinne and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of Glory The end SIONS SONETS Sung By SOLOMON the KING And PERIPHRAS'D By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER 1632. To the READERS REaders now you have them May the end of my paines be the beginâ—ing of your pleasures Excuse me for â—haring so high else give me leave to excuse my selfe Indeed I flew with Eagles feathers otherwise I had not flowne or falne It is the Song of Songs There present you with The Author King SOLOMON the wisest of Kings The matter mysticall the divinest of subjects
To him that of thy prescence is bereft Absented from thy favour what remaines But sense and sad remembrance of my paines Yet hath affliction op'ned my dull eare And taught me what in weale I ne're could heare Her scourge hath tutor'd me with sharpe corrections And swag'd the swelling of my proud affections Till now I slumbred in a prosp'rous dreame From wheÌ„ce awak'd my griefes are more extreame Hopes newly quickned have my soule assur'd That griefes discover'd are one halfe recur'd ELEG 8. HAd not the milder hand of mercy broke The furious violence of that fatall stroke Offended Iustice strucke we had beene quite Lost in the shadowes of eternall night Thy mercy Lord is like the morning Sunne Whose beames undoe what sable night hath done Or like a streame the current of whose course Restrain'd a while runs with a swifter force Oh let me swelter in those sacred beames And after bathe me in these silver streames To thee alone my sorrowes shall appeale Hath earth a wound too hard for heaven to heale ELEG 9. IN thee deare Lord my pensive soule respires Thou art the fulnesse of my choice desires Thou art that sacred Spring whose waters burst In streames to him that seekes with holy thirst Thrice happy man thrice happy thirst to bring The fainting soule to so so sweet a spring Thrice happy he whose well resolved brest Expects no other aide no other rest Thrice happie he whose downie age had bin Reclaim'd by scourges from the prime of sin And early season'd with the taste of Truth Remembers his Creator in his youth ELEG 10. KNowledge concomitates Heavens painefull rod â— eaches the soule to know her selfe her GOD Vnseiles the eye of Faith presents a morrow Of joy within the â—ablest night of sorrow Th' afflicted soule abounds in barest need Sucks purest honie from the foulest weed Detests that good which pamp'red reason likes Welcomes the stroke kisses the hand that strikes In roughest Tides his well-prepared brest Vntoucht with danger findes aâ— haven of rest Hath all in all when most of all bereaven In earth a hell in hell he findes a Heaven ELEG 11. LAbour perfected with the evening ends The lampe of heaven his course fulfill'd descends Can workes of nature seeke and finde a rest And shall the torments of a troubled brest Impos'd by Natures all-commanding GOD Ne're know an end ne're finde a period Deare soule despaire not whet thy dull beliefe With hope heavens mercy will o'recome thy griefe From thee not him proceeds thy punishment Hee 's slow to wrath and speedy to relent Thou burnst like gold consumest not like fuell O wrong not Heaven to thinke that Heaven is cruell ELEG 12. MOuntaines shall move the Sun his circling course Shall stop Tridented Neptuae shall divorce Th' embracing floods from their beloved Iles Ere heaven forgets his servant and recoyles From his eternall vow Those those that bruise His broken reeds or secretly abuse The doubtfull Title of a rightfull Cause Or with false bribes adulterat the Lawes That should be chaste these these th' Almightie hath Branded for subjects of a future wrath Oh may the just man know th' Eternall hastens His plagues for trialls loves the child he chastens ELEG 13. NO mortall power nor supernall might Not Lucifer nor no infernall spright Nor all together joyn'd in one commission Can thinke or act without divine permission Man wils Heaven breathes successe or not upon it What good what evill befals but heaven hath done it Vpon his right hand Health and Honors stand And flaming Scourges on the other hand Since then the States of good or evill depend Vpon his will fond mortall thou attend Vpon his Wisdome Why should living Dust Complaine on Heaven because that Heaven is just ELEG 14. O Let the ballance of our even pois'd hearts Weigh our afflictions with our just deserts And ease our heavie scale Double the graines We take from sinne Heaven taketh from our pains Oh let thy lowly-bended eyes not feare Th' Almighties frownes nor husband one poore teare Be prodigall in sighes and let thy â—ongue Thy tongue estrang'd to heaven cry all night long My soule thou leav'st what thy Creator did Will thee to doe hast done what he forbid This this hath made so great a strangenesse bee If not divorce betwixt thy GOD and thee ELEG 15. PRepar'd to vengeance and resolv'd to spoile Thy hand just GOD hath taken in thy toile Our wounded soules That arme which hath forgot His wonted mercy kills and spareth not Our crimes have set a barre betwixt thy Grace And us thou hast eclipst thy glorious face Hast stopt thy gracious eare lest prayers enforce done Thy tender Heart to pity and remorse See see great GOD what thy deare hand hath We lie like drosse when all the gold is gone Contemn'd despis'd and like to Atomes flye Before the Sunne the scorne of every eye ELEG 16. QVotidian fevers of reproach and shame Have chill'd our Honor and renowned Name We are become the by-word and the scorne Of Heaven and Earth of heaven earth forlorne Our captiv'd soules are compast round about Within with troopes of feares of foes without Without within distrest and in conclusion We are the haplesse children of confusion Oh how mine eyes the rivers of mine eyes O'reflow these barren lips that can devise No Dialect that can expresse or borrow Sufficient Metaphors to shew my sorrow ELEG 17. RIvers of marish teares have over-flowne My blubber'd cheeks my tongue can find no Tone So sharpe as silence to bewaile that woe Whose flowing Tides an Ebbe could never know Weepe on mine eyes mine eyes shall never cease Speake on my Tongue forget to hold thy peace Cease not thy teares close not thy lips so long Til heaven shal wipe thine eles heare thy tongue What heart of brasse what Adamantine brest Can know the torments of my soule and rest What stupid braine ah me what marble eye Can see these these my ruines and not cry ELEG 18. SO hath the Fowler with his slye deceits Beguil'd the harmelesse bird so with false baits The treach'rous Angler strikes his nibbling prey Even so my Foes my guiltlesse soule betray So have my fierce pursuers with close wiles Inthralled me and gloried in my spoiles Where undermining plots could not prevaile There mischiefe did with strength of arme assaile Thus in afflictions troubled billowes tost I live but t is a life worse had than lost Thus thus o'rewhelm'd my secret soule doth cry I am destroy'd and there 's no helper nigh ELEG 19. THou great Creator whose diviner breath Preserves thy Creature joyst not in his death Looke downe from thy eternall Throne that art The onely Rocke of a despairing heart Looke downe from Heaven O thou whose tender eare Once heard the trickling of one single teare How art thou now estranged from his cry That sends forth Rivers from his fruitfull eye How often hast thou with a gentle arme Rais'd me from death and bid
heaven at last will grant thee thy desire THE ARGVMENT The second time was Ionah sent To Niniveh now Ionah went Against her crying 〈…〉 cry'd And her destruction propâ—â—â—y'd Sect. 8. ONce more the voyce of heavens high-CoÌ„mander Like horrid claps of heav'ns-dividing thunder Or like the fall of waters breach the noise Bâ—ing heard farre distant off such was the voyce Came downe from heav'n to Ionah new-borne-MaÌ„ To re-baptized Ionah and thus began Am I a God Or art thou ought but Dust More than a man Or are my Lawes unjust Am I a God and shall I not command Art thou a man and dâ—r'st my Lawes withstand Shall I the motion of whose breath shall make Both earth and Sea and Hell and Heaven quake By thee fond man shall I be thus neglected And thy presumption scape uncorrected Thy faith hath sav'd thee Ionah Sin no more Lest worse things happen after than before Arise let all th' assembled pow'rs agree To doe th'Embassage I impose on thee Trifle no more and to avoid my sight Thinke not to baulke me with a second flight Arise and goe to Niniveh the great Where broods of Gentiles have ta'ne up their seat The great Queene regent mother of the Lâ—nd That multiplies in people like the sand Away with wings of time I 'le not essoyne thee Denounce these fiery Iudgements I enjoyne thee Like as a youngling that to schoole is sent Scarce weaned from his mothers blandishment Where he was cockerd with a stroking hand With stubborne heart denyes the just command His Tutor wils But being once corrected His home-bred stomack 's curb'd or quite ejected His crooked nature 's chang'd and mollifi'd And humbly seekes what stoutly he deny'd So Ionah's stout perverse and stubborne heart Was hardned once but when it felt the smart Of heav'ns avenging wrath it straight dissolv'd And what it once avoyded now resolv'd T' effect with speed and with a carefull hand Fully replenish'd with his Lords Command To Ninivâ—h he flyeth like a Roe Each step the other strives to overgoe And as an Arrow to the marke does flie So bent to flight flies he to Niniveh ¶ Now Niniveh a might Citie was Which all the Cities of the world did passe A Citie which o're all the rest aspires Like midnight Phoebe 'mongst the lesser fires A Citie which although to men was given Better beseem'd the Majestie of Heaven A City Great to God whose ample wall Who undertakes to mete with paces shall Bring Phoebus thrice to bed ere it be done Although with dawning Hesperus begun When Ionas hath approacht the City gate He made no stay to rest nor yet to bait No supple oyle his fainting head anoints Stayes not to bathe his weather-beaten joynts Nor smooth'd his countenance nor slick ' his skin Nor craved he the Hostage of an Inne To ease his aking bones with travell sore But went as speedy as he fled before The Cities greatnesse made him not refuse To be the trump of that unwelcome newes His tongue was great with But like thuÌ„ders noise His mouth flew ope and out there rusht a voyce When dewy-cheek't Aurora shall display Her golden locks and summon up the day Twice twenty times and rest her drowzy head Twice twenty nights in aged Tithons bed Then Niniveh this place of high renowne Shall be destroy'd and sackt and batterd downe He sate not downe to take deliberation What maner people were they or what Nation Or Gent ' or Salvage nor did he enquier What place were most convenient for a Cryer Nor like a sweet-lipt Orator did steare Or tune his language to the peoples eare But bold and rough yet full of Majesty Lift up his trumpet and began to cry When forty times Don Phoebus shall fulfill His Iournall course upon th' Olympian Hill Then Niniveh the Worlds great wonder shall Startle the Worlds foundation with her fall The dismall Prophet stands not to admire The Cities pompe or peoples quaint attire Nor yet with fond affection doth pity Th' approaching downfall of so brave a City But dauntlesse he his dreadfull voice extends Respectlesse whom this bolder cry offends When forty daies shall be expir'd and run And that poore Inch of time drawne out and done Then Niniveh the Worlds Imperiall throne Sall not be left a stone upon a stone Meditat. 8. BVt stay Is God like one of us Can he When he hath said it alter his Decree Can he that is the God of Truth dispence With what he vow'd or offer violence Vpon his sacred Iustice Can his minde Revolt at all or vary like the winde How comes this alteration then that He Thus limiting the' effect of his Decree Vpon the expiring date of forty daies He then performes it not But still delaies His plagues denounc't Iudgement stil forbeares And stead of forty dayes gives many yeares Yet forty dayes and Niniveh shall perish Yet forty yeares and Niniveh doth flourish A change in man's infirme in God 't is strange In God to change his Will and will a Change Are divers things When he repents from ill He wils a change he changes not his Will The subject's chang'd which secret was to us But not the mind that did dispose it thus Denounced Iudgement God doth oft prevent But neither changes counsell not intent The voyce of heâ—â—en doth seldome threat perdition But with expresse or an imply'd condition So that if Niniveh returne from ill God turnes his hand he doth not turne his Will ¶ The stint of Niniveh was forty dayes To change the By as of her crooked wayes To some the time is large To others small To some 't is many yeares And not at all To others Some an houre have and some Have scarce a minute of their time to come Thy span of life Malfidâ— is thy space To call for mercy and to cry for grace ¶ Lord what is man but like a worme that crawles Open to danger every foote that fals Death creepes unheard and steals abroad unseen Her darts are sudden and her arrowes keene Vncertaine when but certaine she will strike Respecting King and Begger both alike The stroke is deadly come it soone or late Which once being strucke repenting's out of date Death is a minute full of sudden sorrow Then live to day as thou maist die to morrow THE ARGVMENT The Ninivites beleeve the word Their hearts returne unto the Lord In him they put their onely trust They mourne is Sackcloth and in dust Sect. 9. SO said the Ninivites beleev'd the Word Beleeved Ionas and beleev'd the Lord They made no pause nor jested aâ— the newes Nor slighted it because it was a Iew 's Denouncement No nor did their gazing eyes As taken captive with such novelties Admire the strangers garb so quaint to theirs No idle chat possest their itching eares The whil'st he spake nor were their tongues on fier To raile upon or interrupt the Cryer Nor did they question whether true the message Or false the Prophet were that
uncall'd will I repaire Howe'r my boldnesse shall his Lawes contraire And brauely welcome Death before mine eye And scorne her power If I dye I dye Meditat. 10. AS in the winged Common-wealth of Bees Whose carefull Summer-providence foresees Th' approching fruitlesse Winter which denies The crowne of labour some with laden thighs Take charge to beare their waxy burthens home Others receive the welcome load and some Dispose the waxe others the plot contrive Some build the curious Comb some guard the Hive Like armed Centinels others distreine The purer honey from the waxe some traine And discipline the young while others drive The sluggish Drones from their deserved Hive Thus in this Common-wealth untaught by Art Each winged Burger acts his busie part So man whose first creation did intend And chiefly pointed at no other end Then as a faithfull Steward to receive The Fine and quit-rent of the lives we live Must suit his deare indeavour to his might Each one must lift to make the burthen light Proving the power that his gifts afford To raise the best advantage for his Lord Whose substitute he is and for whose sake We live and breath each his account must make Or more or lesse and he whose power lacks The meanes to gather honey must bring waxe Five Talents double five two render foure Wher 's little little 's crav'd where much there 's more Kings by their Royall priviledge may do What unbefits a mind to search into But by the force of their prerogatives They cannot free the custome of their lives The silly Widow from whose wrinkled browes Faint drops distill through labour that she owes Her needy life must make her Audite too As well as Kings and mighty Monarks doe The world 's a Stage each mortall Acts thereon As well the King that glitters on the throne As needy beggers Heav'n Spectator is And markes who acteth well and who amisse ¶ What part befits me best I cannot tell It matters not how meane so acted well THE ARGVMENT Vnto the King Queene Ester goes He unexpected favour showes Demands her suit she doth request The King and Haman to a Feast Sect. 11. WHen as Queen Esters solemne 3. daies Fast Had feasted heaven with a sweet repast Her lowly bended body she unbow'd And like faire Titan breaking from a cloud She rose and with her Royall Robe she clad Her livelesse limmes and with a face as sad As griefe could paint wanting no Art to borrow A needlesse helpe to counterfeit a sorrow Softly she did direct her feeble pace Vnto the inner Court where for a space She boldly stood before the Royall Throne Like one that would but durst not make her mone Which when her princely husband did behold His heart relented Fortune helpes the bold And to expresse a welcome unexpected Forth to the Queene his Scepter he directed Whom now imboldned to approch secur'd In gracious termes he gently thus conjur'd What is 't Queene Ester would What sad request Hangs on her lips dwells in her doubtfull brest Say say my lifes preserver what 's the thing That lyes in the performance of a King Shall be deny'd Faire Queenâ— what e're is mint Vnto the moity of my Kingdome 's thine So Ester thus If in thy Princely eyes Thy loyall Servant hath obtain'd the prize Of undeserved favor let the King And Haman grace my this dayes-banquetting To crowne the dainties of his handmaids Feast Humbly devoted to so great a Guest The motion pleas'd and fairly well succeeded To willing minds no twice intreaty needed They came but in Queene Esters troubled face Robd of the sweetnesse of her wonted grace The King read discontent her face divin'd The greatnesse of some further suit behind Say say thou bountâ—ous harvest of my joyes Said then the King what dumpish griefe annoyes Thy troubled soule Speake Lady what 's the thing Thy heart desires By th' onour of a King My Kingdomes halfe requested I 'le divide To faire Queene Ester to my fairest Bride Lâ— then the tenour of my deare request Repli'd the Queene unto a second Feast Thy humble Suitor doth presume to bid The King and Haman as before she did Now therefore if it please my gracious Lord To daigâ—e his Royall presence and afford The peerlesse treasure of hiâ— Princeâ—y Grace To dry the sorrowes of his Handmaids face Then to my Kingly and thrice-welcome Guest His servant shall unbosome her Request Medita 11. HE that invites his Maker to a Feast Advising well the greatnesse of his Guest Must purge his dining chamber from infections And sweepe the Cobwebs of his lewd affections And then provide such Cates as most delight His Palate and best please his Appetite And such are holy workes and pious deeds These are the dainties whereon heaven feeds Faith plaies the Cook seasons directs and guides So man findes meate so God the Cooke provides His drinke are teares sprung from a midnight cry Heaven sips out Nectar from a sinners eye The dining chamber is the soule opprest God keepes his revells in a Sinners brest The musicke that attends the Feast are grones Deep-founding sighes and loud lamenting moneâ— Heav'n heares no sweeter musick than complaints The Fasts of sinners are the Feasts of Saints To which heav'n dains to stoop heav'ns hie King Descends whilst all the quire of Angels sing And with such sense-bereaving Sonets fill The hearts of wretched men that my rude quill Dazeld with too much light it selfe addressing To blaze them forth obscures theÌ„ in th' expressing Thrice happy man and thrice-thrice happy Feast Grac'd with the presence of so great a Guest To him are freely giv'n the privy keyes Of heav'n and earth to open when he please And locke when e're he liâ—t In him it lyes To ope the showring flood-gates of the skies Or shut them at his pleasure in his hand The Host of heaven is put if he command The Sunne not daring to withstand obeyes Out-runnes his equall howres flies back or stayes To him there 's nought uneasie to atchieve Hee le rouze the graves and make the dead alive ¶ Lord I 'me unfit t' invite thee to my home My Caâ—es are all too coorse too meane my Roome Yet come and welcome by thy pow'r Divine Thy Grace may turne my Water into Wine THE ARGVMENT Good Mordecai's unreverence Great Hamans haughty pride offends H'acquaints his wife with the offence The counsell of his wife and friends Sect. 12. THat day went Haman forth for his swolne brest Was fill'd with joyes and heart was full possest Of all the height Ambition could require To satisfie her prodigall Desire But when he passed through the Palace Gate His eye-sore aged Mardocheus sate With head unbar'd and stubborne knee unbenâ— Vnapt to fawne with slavish blandishment Which when great Haman saw his boyling brest So great disdaine unable to digest Ran o're his blood grew hot and new desires Incenst and kindled his avenging fires Surcharg'd with griefe and sick with male-content
opposition Exasperate the more A gloomy night Whets on the morning to returne more bright A blade well triâ—d deserves a treble price And Vertu 's purest most oppos'd by Vice Brave mindes opprest should in despight of Faâ—â— Looke greatest like the Sunne in lowest state But ah shal God thus strive with flesh and blood Receives he Glory from or reapes he Good In mortals Ruine that he leaves man so To be or'ewhelm'd by his unequall Foe May not a Potter that from out the ground Hath fram'd a Vessell search if it be sound Or if by for bushing he take more paine To make it fairer shall the Pot complaine Mortall thou art but Clay Then shall not he That fram'd thee for his service season thee Man close thy lips Be thou no undertaker Of Gods designes Dispute not with thy Maker Lord 't is against thy nature to doe ill Then give me power to beare and worke thy Will Thou know'st what 's best make thou thine owne conclusion Be glorifi'd although in my confusion THE ARGVMENT Satan the second time appeares Before th' Eternall boldly dares Maligne Iobâ— tryed Faith afresh And gaines th'afflicting of his Flesh. Sect. 4. ONce more when heaveÌ„s harmonious queristers Appear'd before his Throne whose Ministers They are of his concealed will to render Their strict account of Iustice and to tender Th'accepted Sacrifice of highest praise Warbled in Sonnets and celestiall Layes Satan came too bold as a hungry Fox Or ravinous Wolfe amid the tender Flockes Satan said then th' Eternall from whence now Hath thy imployments driven thee whence com'st thou Satan replies Great God of heaveÌ„ earth I come from tempting and from making mirth To heare thy dearest children whine and roare In briefe I come from whence I came before Said then th' Eternall Hast thou not beheld My servants Faith how like a seven-fold shield It hath defended his integrity Against thy fiery Darts Hath not thine Eye Thine envious eye perceiv'd how puâ—ely just He stands and perfect worthy of the trust I lent into his hand persisting still Iust fearing God eschewing what is ill 'T was not the losse of his so faire a Flock Nor sudden rape of such a mighty Stock 'T was neither losse of Servants nor his Sonnes Vntimely slaughter acted all at once Could make him quaile or warpe so true a Faith Or staine so pure a Love say Satan hath Thy hand so deepely counterfeiting mine Made him mistrust his God or once repine Can there in all the earth say can there be A man so Perfect and so Iust as He Replyes the Tempter Lord an outward losse Hopes for repaire it 's but a common crosse I know thy servant's wise a wise forecast Grieves for things present not for things are past Perchance the tumour of his sullen heart Brookes losse of all since he hath lost a part My selfe have Servants who can make true boast They gave away as much as he hath lost Others which learning made so wisely mad Refuse such Fortunes as he never had A Faith 's not try'd by this uncertaine Tuch Others that never knâ—w thee did as much Lend mee thy Power then that I might once But Sacrifice his Flesh afflict his Bones And pierce his Hide but for a moments space Thy Darling then would curse thee to thy Face To which th' Eternall thus His body 's thine To plague thy fill withall I doe confine Thy power to her â—ists Afflict and teare His flesh at pleasure But his life forbeare Meditat. 4. BOth Goods and body too Lord who can stand Expect not Iobs uprightnesse at my hand Without Iobs aid The temper of my Passion Vntam'd by thee can brooke no Iobs Temptation For I am weake and fraile and what I can Most boast of proves me but a sinfull man Things that I should avoid I doe and what I am injoyn'd to doe that doe I not My Flesh is weake too strong in this alone It rules my spirit that should be rul'd by none But thee my spirit 's faint and hath beene never Free from the fits of fins quotidian Fever My pow'rs are all corrupt corrupt my Will Marble to good and Waxe to what is ill Eclipsed is my reason and my Wit By interposing Earth 'twixt Heaven and it My mem'ri's like a Scarce of Lawne alas It keepes things grosse and lets the purer passe What have I then to boast What Title can I challenge more than this A sinfull man Yet doe I sometimes feele a warme desire Raise my low Thoughs and dull affections higher Where like a soule entranc't my spirit flies Makes leagues with Angels and brings Deities Halfe way to heaven shakes hands with Seraphims And boldly mingles wings with Cherubims Frem whence I looke askauns adowne the earth Pity my selfe and loath my place of birth But while I thus my lower state deplore I wake and prove the wretch I was before Even as the Needle that directs the howre Toucht with the Loadstone by the secret power Of hidden Nature points upon the Pole Even so the wav'ring powers of my soule Toucht by the vertue of thy Spirit flee From what is Earth and point alone to Thee When I have faith to hold thee by the Hand I walke securely and me thinkes I stand More firme than Atlas But when I forsake The safe protection of thine Arme I quake Like wind-shakt Reeds and have no strength at all But as a Vine the Prop cut downe I fall Yet wretched I when as thy Iustice lends Thy glorious Presence from me straight am friends With Flesh and blood forget thy Grace flye froÌ„ it And like a Dog returne unto my vomit The fawning world to pleasure then invites My wandring eyes The flesh presents delights Vnto my yeelding heart which thinke those pleasures Are onely bus'nes now and rarest treasures Content can glory in whilst I secure Stoope to the painted plumes of Satans Lure Thus I captiv'd and drunke with pleasures Wine Like to a mad-man thinke no state like mine What have I then to boast what title can I challenge more than this A sinfull man â— feele my griefe so enough nor can I be â—edrest by any but Great God by thee â—oo great thou art to come within my Roofe â—ay but the word Be â—â—â—le and 't is enough â—ill then my tongue shall never 〈◊〉 mine Eyes â—â—e're cloze my lowly bended knees ne're rise â—ill then my soule shall ne're want early sobs My cheekes no teares my Pensive brest no throbs My hart shall lack no zeale nor tongue expressing â—le strive like Iacob till I get my Blessing Say then Be cleaâ—e I 'le never stop till then Heaven ne'r shall rest till Heaven shal say Amen THE ARGVMENT Iob smote with Vlcers groveling lyes Plung'd in a Gulfe of Miseries His Wife to blasphemy doth tempt him His three Friends visit and lament him Sect. 5. LIke as a Truant-Scholler whose delay Is worse than whipping having leave to play â—â—kes haste to bee inlarged from
at length So mortals die and being dead ne're minde The fairest fortunes that they leave behinde While man is man untill that death bereave him Of his last breath his griefes shal never leave him Meditat. 10. DOth Hist'ry then and sage Chronologiâ— The Index pointing to Antiquity So firmly grounded on deepe Iudgement guarded And kept by so much Miracle rewarded With so great glory serve but as slight Fables To edge the dulnesse of mens wanton Tables And claw their itching eares Or doe they rather Like a conciâ—e Abridgement serve to gather Mans high Adventures and his transitory Atchievements to expresse his Makers glory Acts that have blown the lowdest Trumpe of Fame Are all but humours purchas 't in His name Is he that yesterday went forth to bring His Fathers Asses home to day crown'd King Did hee that now on his brave Palace stood Boasting his Babels beauty chew the cud An hower after Have not Babes beene crown'd And mighty Monarchs beaten to the ground Man undertakes heaven breathes successe upon it What good what evill is done but heaveÌ„ hath done it The Man to whom thâ— world was not asham'd To yeeld her Colours he that was proclam'd A God in humane shape whose dreadfull voyce Did strike men dead like Thunder at the noyse Was rent away from his Imperiall Throne Before his flowre of youth was fully blowne His race was rooted out his Issue slaine And left his Empire to another straine Who that did e're behold the ancient Rome Would rashly given her glory such a doome Or thought her subject to such alterations That was the Mistresse and the Queen of Nations Egypt that in her wals had once engrost More Wisdome than the world besides hath lost Her senses now Her wisest men of State Are turn'd like Puppets to be pointed at If Romes great power and Egypts wisdome can Not ayde themselves how poore a thing is Man God plaies with Kingdomes as with Tennis-balls Fells some that rise and raises some that fals Nor policy can prevent nor secret Fate Where Heaven hath pleas'd to blow upon a State If States be not secure nor Kingdomes than How helpelesse Ah! how poore a thing is Man Man 's like a flower the while he hath to last Hee 's nipt with frost and shooke with every blast Hee 's borne in sorrow and brought up in teares He lives a while in sinne and dyes in feares Lord I 'le not boast what e're thou give unto me Lest e're my brag be done thou take it from me No man may boast but of his owne I can Then boast of nothing for I am a Man THE ARGVMENT Rash Eliphaz doth aggravate The sinnes of Iob malign's his flâ—te Whom Iob reproving justifies Himselfe bewailes his miseries Sect. 11. DOth vaine repining Eliphaz replies Or words like wind beseeme the man that 's wise Ahsure thy faithlesse heart rejects the feare Of heaven dost not acquaint thy lips with pray'r Thy words accuse thy heart of Impudence Thy tongue not I brings in the Evidence Art thou the first of men Doe Mysteries Vnfold to thee Art thou the onely wise Wherein hath Wisdome beene more good to you Then us What know you that we never knew Reverence not Censure fits a young mans eyes We are your Ancients and should be as wise It't not enough your Arrogance derides Our counsels but must scorne thy God besides Angels if God in quier strictly must Not pleade Perfection then can man be just It is a truth receiv'd these aged eyes Have seen 't and is confirmed by the wise That still the wicked man is void of rest Is alwayes fearefull falls when he feares least In trouble he despaires and is dejected He begs his bread his death comes unexpected In his adversity his griefes shall gaule him And like a raging Tyrant shall in thâ—all him He shall advance against his God in vaine For Heaven shall crush beate him downe againe What iâ— his Garners thrive and goods increase They shall not prosper nor he live in peace Eternall horrour shall begâ—â—t him round And vengeance shall both him and his confound Amidst his joyes despaire shall stop his breath His sons shall perish with untimely death The double soule shall die and in the hollow Of all false hearts falâ—e hearts theÌ„selves shall swallow Then answered Iob All this before I knew They want no griefe that finde such friends as you Ah cease your words the fruits of ill spent houres If heaven should please to make my fortunes yours I would not scoffe you nor with taunts torment ye My lips should comfort and these eyes lament ye What shall I doe speake not my griefes oppresse My soule or speake alas they 'r ne're thelesse Lord I am wasted and my pangs have spent me My skin is wrinkâ—ed for thy hand hath rent me Mine enemies have smit me in disdaine Laught at my torments jested at my paine I swell'd in wealth but now alas am poore And feld with woe lye groveling on the floore In dust and sackcloth I lament my sorrowes Thy Hand hath trencht my cheekes with water furrowes Nor can I comprehend the cause that this My smart should be so grievous as it is Oh earth if then an Hypocrite I be Cover my cryes as I doe cover thee And witnesse Heaven that these my Vowes be truâ— Ah friends I spend my teares to Heav'n not you My time 's but short alas would then that I Might try my cause with God before I dye Since then I languish and not farre from dead â—et me a while with my Accusers plead Before the Iudge of heaven and earth my right Have they not wrong'd and vext me day night Who first layes downe his Gage to meet me Say I doubt not Heaven being Iudge to win the day You 'll say perchance wee 'll recompell your word E're simple truth should unawares afford Your discontent No no forbeare for I Hate lesse your Censures then your flattery I am become a By-word and a Tabor To set the tongues and eares of men in labour Mine eyes are dimme my body 's but a shade Good men that see my case will be afraid But not confounded They will hold their way And in a bad they 'll hope a better day Recant your errours for I cannot see One man that 's truly wise among you Three My dayes are gone my thoughts are mis-possest The silent night that heaven ordain'd for rest My day of travell is but I shall have E're long long peace within my welcome grave My neerest kinred are the wormes the earth My mother for she gave me first my birth Where are my hopes then where that future joy Which you fals-prophecy'd I should enjoy Both hopes and I alike shall travell thither Where clos'd in dust we shall remaine together Meditat. 11. THe Morall Poets nor unaptly faine That by lame Vulcans help the pregnant brain Of soveraigne â—ove brought forth and at that birth Was borne Minerva Lady of the earth
discover The hidden Myst'ry till the time be â—ver Cease to importune then what cannot be My parents know it not as well as thee 〈◊〉 ought but this thy Suite shall overcome me Excuse me then and goe not angry from me Meditat. 11. HOw apprehensive is the heart of Man Of all and onely those poore things that can Lend him a minutes pleasure and appay His sweat but with the happinesse of a day How can he toyle for trifles and take paine For fading goods that onely entertaine His pleased thoughts with poore painted showes Whose joy hath no more truth than what it owes To change How are the objects of his musing Worthlesse and vaine that perish in the using How reasonable are his poore desires The height of whose ambition but aspires To flitting shadowes which can onely crowne His labour with that nothing of their owne We feed on huskes that might as well ataine The fatted Calfe by comming home againe And like to Esan while we are suppressing Our present wants neglect and lose the blessing How wise we are for things whose pleasure cooles Like breath For everlasting joyes what Fooles How witty how ingeniously wise To save our credits or to win a prize Wee plot Our browes are studious First we try One way If that succeed not we apply Our doubtfull mindes to attemt another course We take advice consult our tongues discourse Of better wayes and what our failing braines Cannot effect with faire and fruitlesse paines There crooked fraud must helpe and slie deceit Must lend a hand which by the potent sleight Of right-forsaking Bribry must betray The prize into our hands and win the day Which if it faile it does but seldome faile Then open force and fury must prevaile When strength of wit and secret power of fraud Grow dull constraint must conquer and applaâ—d With ill got vict'ry which at length obtain'd Alas how poore a trifle have we gain'd How are our soules distempered to engrosse Such fading pleasures To ore-prize the drosse And under-rate the Gold for painted Ioyes To sell the true and heaven it selfe for Toyes Lord clarifie mine eyes that I may know Things that are good from what are good in show And give me wisedome that my heart my learne The diffrence of thy favours and discerne What 's truely good from what is good in part With Martha's trouble give me Maries heart THE ARGVMENT The Bride she begs and beg sin vaine But like to a prevailing wooer She sues and sues and sues againe At last he reads the Riddle to her Sect. 12. WHen the next morning had renew'd the day And th' early twilight now had chac'd away The pride of night and made her lay aside Her spangled Robes the discontented Bride Whose trobled thoghts were tyred with the night And broken slumbers long had wisht for light With a deepe sigh her sorrow did awake Her drowsie Bridegroome whom she thus bespake O if thy love could share an equall part In the sad griefes of my afflicted heart Thy closed eyes had never in this sort â—in pleas'd with rest and made thy night so short Perchance if my dull eyes had slumbred too My dreames had done what thou deny'd to doe Perchance my Fancy would have bin so kinde Tunsolve the doubts of my perplexed minde T was a small suite that thy unluckie Bride Must light upon Too small to be denyde Can love so soone But ere her lips could spend The following words he said suspend suspend Thy rash attempt and let thy tongue dispense With forc'd denyall Let thy lips commence Some greater Suite and Samson shall make good Thy faire desiers with his dearest blood Speake then my love thou shall not wâ—sh and want Thou canst not beg what Samson cannot grant Onely in this excuse me and refraine To beg what thou perforce must beg in vaine In exorable Samson Can the teares From those faire â—yes not move thy deafned eares O can those drops that trickle from those eyes Vpon thy naked bosome not surprize Thy neighb'ring heart and force it to obey O can thy hearâ— not melt as well as they Thou little thinkst thy poore afflicted wife Importunes thee and woes thee for her life Her Suit 's as great a Riddle to thiâ—e eares As thine to hers O these distilling teares Are silent pleaders and her moistned breath Would faine redeeme her from the gates of death May not her teares prevaile Alas thy strise Is but for wagers Her 's poore Soule for life Now when this day had yeelded up his right To the succeeding Empresse of the night Whose soone-deposed raignc did reconvay Her crowne and Scepter to the new borne day The restlesse Bride feares cannot brooke denyall Renewes her suit and attempts a further tryall Entreats conjures she leaves no way untride She will not no she must not be denyd But he the portalls of whose marble heart Was lockt and barr'd against the powerfull art Of oft repeated teares stood deafe and dumbe He must not no he will not be ore-come Poore Bride How is thy glory overcast How is the pleasure of the Nuptialls past When scarce begun Alas how poore a breath Of joy must puffe thee to untimely death The day 's at hand wherein thou must untie The Riddles tangled Snarle or else must dye Now when that day was come wherein the feast Was to expire the Bride whose pensive brest Grew sad to death did once more undertake Her too resolved Bridegroome thus and spake Vpon these knees that prostrate on the floore Are lowly bended and shall ne're give ore To move thy goodnesse that shall never rise Vntill my Suit finde favour in thine eyes Vpon these naked knees I here present My sad request O let thy heart relent A Suitor sues that never sued before And she begs now that never will beg more Hast thou vow'd silence O remember how Thou art engaged by a former vow Thy heart is mine The secrets of thy heart Are mine Why art thou dainty to impart Mine owne to me Then give me leave to sue For what my right may challenge as her due Vnfold thy Riddle then that I may know Thy love is more then only love in show The Bridegroome thus enchanted by his Bride Vnseal'd his long-kept silence and replyde Thou sole and great commandresse of my heart Thou hast prevail'd my bosome shall impart The summe of thy desiers and discharge The faithfull secrets of my soule at large Know then my joy Vpon that very day I first made knowne my'affection on the way I met and grappled with a sturdy Lyon Having nor staffe nor weapon to relie on I was enforc'd to prove my naked strength Vnequall was the match but at the length This brawny Arme receiving strength from him That gave it life I tore him limme from limme And left him dead Now when the time was come Wherin our promis'd nuptialls were to summe And perfect all my joyes as I was comming That very way 'a
Prayer for the distressed people of Ierusalem and Sion GReat God before whose all-discerning eye The secret corners of mans heart doe lye As open as his actions which no Clowd Of secresie can shade no shade can shrowd Behold the Teares O hearken to the Cryes Of thy poore Sion Wipe her weeping eyes Binde up her bleeding wounds ô thou that art The best Chirurgeon for a broken heart See how the barb'rous Gentiles have intruded Into the Land of promise and excluded Those rightfull Owners from their just possessions That wander now full laden with oppressions Our Fathers ah their savage hands have slaine Whose deaths our Widdow-mothers weepe in vaine Our Springs whose Christall plenty once disburst Their bounteous favours to quench every thirst Our liberall Woods whose palsie-shaken tops To every stranger bow'd their yeelding lops Are sold to us that have no price to pay But sweat and toyle the sorrowes of the day Oppressors trample on our servile necks We never cease to groane nor they to vexe Famine and Dearth haue taught our hands t' extend To Ashur and our feeble knees to bend To churlish Pharoe Want of bread compells Thy servants to begge Almes of Infidels Our wretched Fathers sinn'd and yet they sleepe In peace and have left us their sonnes to weepe We we extracted from their sinfull loynes Are guilty of their sinnes Their Ossa joynes To our high Pelion Ah! their crimes doe stand More firmly ' entailed to us than our Land We are the slaves of servants and the scorne Of slaves of all forsaken and forlorne Hunger hath forc'd us to acquire our food With deepest danger of our dearest blood Our skins are wrinckled and the fruitlesse ploughs Of want have fallow'd up our barren browes Within that Sion which thy hands did build Our Wives were ravisht and our Maids defil'd Our savage Foe extends his barb'rous rage To all not sparing Sexe nor Youth nor Age They hang our Princes on the shamefull trees Of death respect no Persons no Degrees Our Elders are despised whose gray hayres Are but the Index of their doting yeares Our flowring youth are forced to fulfill Their painfull taskes in the laborious Mill Our children faint beneath their loads and cry Opprest with burdens under which they lie Sages are banisht foâ—â— Iudiciall Courts And youth takes no delight in youthfull sports Our joyes are gone and promise no returning Our pleasure 's turnd to paine our mirth to mourning Our hand hath lost her sword Our Head his Crowne Our Church her glory our Weale her high renowne Lord we have sinn'd and these our sins have brought This world of griefe O purchase dearely bought From hence our sorrowes and from hence our feares Proceed for this our eyes are blinde with teares But that aye that which my poore heart doth count Her sharpest torture is thy sacred Mount Sacred Mount Sion Sion that divine Seat of thy glory 's raz'd her tender Vine Laden with swelling Clusters is destroy'd And Foxes now what once thy Lambs enjoy'd But thou O thou eternall God whose Throne Is permanent whose glory 's ever one Vnapt for Change abiding still the same Though Earth consume Heaven dissolve her frame Why dost thou ah why dost thou thus absent Thy glorious face Oh wherefore hast thou rent Thy Mercy from us O! when wilt thou be Atton'd to them that have no trust but Thee Restore us Lord and let our soules possesse Our wonted peace O let thy Hand redresse Our wasted fortunes Let thine Eye behold Thy scattered Flock and drive them to their Fold Canst thou reject that people which thy Hand Hath chose and planted in the promis'd Land O thou the Spring of mercy wilt thou send No ease to our Afflictions no end The end AN ALPHABET OF ELEGIES VPON The much and truly lamented death of that famous for Learning Pietie and true Friendship Doctor AILMER A great favourer and fast friend to the Muses and late Arch-deacon of LONDON Imprinted in his Heart that ever loves his Memorie Written by FRA QVARLES Cum privilegio Amoris Doloris Dignum laude virum Musa vetat morâ— READERS GIve me leave to performe a necessary duty which my affection owes to the blesâ—ed memory of that reverend Prelate my much â—onoured Friend Doctor Ailmer Hee was one whose life and death made as full and perfect a Story of worth and goodnesse as earth would suffer and whose pregnant vertues deserve as faithfull a Register as earth can keepe In whose happy remembrance I have here â—â—usted these Elegies to Time and your favours Had he bin a Lampe to light me alone my priâ—ate griefes had beene sufficient but being a Sunne whose beames reflected on all all have 〈◊〉 interest in his memory To which end I recommend these memorialls to the publike in testimony of my undissembled affection and true pietie that I owe to so great an example of Vertue and Learning F. Q. FVNERALL ELEGIES ELEG 1. All you whose eies would learn to weepe draw neere And heare what none without full teares and hear Come marble eyes as marble as your hearts I 'le teach you how to weepe a teare in parts And you false eyes that never yet let fall A teare in earnest come and now ye shall Send forth salt fountaines of the truest griefe That ever sought to Language for reliefe But you you tender eyes that cannot beare An Elegie wept forth without a teare I warne you hence or at the most passe by Lest while you stay you soone dissolve and dye ELEG 2. BVt stay sad Genius How doe griefes transport Thy exil'd senses Is there no resort To forkt Parnassus sacred Mount No word No thought of Helicon No Muse implor'd I did invoke but there was none reply'd The nine were silent since Mâ—â—aenas dy'd They have forsaken their old Spring 't is said They haunt a new one which their tears have made Should I molest them with my losse 'T is knowne They finde enough to re-lament their owne I crave no ayde no Deity to infuse New matter Ah True sorrow needs no Muse. ELEG 3. CAll back bright Phoebus your sky-wandring steeds Your day is tedious and our sorrow needs No Sun When our sad soules have lost their light Why should our eyes not finde perpetuall night Goe to the nether world and let your rayes Shine there Bestow on them our share of dayes But say not Why lest when report shall show Such cause of griefe they fall a grieving too And pray the absence of your restlesse wayne Which then must be return'd on us againe Deare Phoebus graunt my suit if thou denie 't My teares shall blinde me and so make a night ELEG 4. DEath art thou growne so nice can nothing please Thy curious palate but such Cates as these Or hath thy ravenous stomach beene o'represt With common diet at thy last great feast 1625 Or hast thou fed so neere that there is none Now left but delicates to feed upon Or was this dish so
But thy Bulwarkes aid cannot withstand The direfull stroake of the Almighties hand Thy Wafer-walls at dread Iehovahs blast Shall quake and quiver and shall downe 〈◊〉 Thy watchfull Towers shall asleepe be found And nod their drowsie heads downe to the ground Thy Bulwarks are not Vengeance-proofe thy Wall When Iustice brandisheth her Sword must fall Thy lofty Towers shall be dumbe and yeeld To high Revenge Revenge must win the field Vengeance cryes loud from heaven she cannot stay Her Fury but impatient of delay Hath brimm'd her 〈◊〉 full of deadly Bâ—ne Thy Palâ—ce shall be burnt thy People slaine Thy Heart is hard as Flint and swolne with pride Thy murth'rous Hands with guitlesse blood are dy'd Thy silly Babes doe starve for want of Food Whose tender Mothers thou hast drencht in Blood Women with childe lye in the streets about Whose Braines thy savage hands have dashed out Distressed Widowes weepe but weepe in vaine For their deare Husbands whom thy hands have slaine By one mans Force another man 's devour'd Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maids deflowr'd Where Iustice should there Tort Bribes are plac't Thy ' Altars defil'd and holy things defac't Thy Lips have tasted of proud Babels Cup What thou hast left thy Children have drunke up Thy bloody sinnes thine Abels guiltlesse blood Cryes up to heaven for Vengeance cryes aloud Thy sinnes are seire and ready for the fire Heere rouze my Muse and for a space respire TO THE MOST HIGH HIS HVMBLE SERVANT IMPLORES HIS FAVOVrable Assistance O All sufficient God great Lord of Light Without whose gracious ayd constant sprite No labours prosper howsoe're begun But flye like Mists before the morning Sun O raise my thoughts and cleare my Apprehension Infuse thy Spirit into my weake invention Reflect thy Beames upon my feeble Eyes Shew me the Mirrour of thy Mysteries My Art-lesse Hand my humble Heart inspire Inflame my frozen tongue with holy fire Ravish my stupid Senses with thy Glory Sweeten my Lips with sacred Oratory And thou O FIRST and LAST assist my Quill That first and last I may performe thy will My sole intent's to blazon forth thy Praise My ruder Pen expects no crowne of Bayes Suffice it then Thine Altar I have kist Crowne me with Glory Take the Bayes that list A FEAST FOR VVORMES By Fra Quarles LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1633. A FEAST FOR WORMES THE ARGVMENT The word of God to Ionahâ—â—me â—â—me Commanded Ionah to proâ—lame The â—engeance of his Mâ—jestie Against the sinnes of 〈◊〉 Sect. 1. TH' Eternall Word of God whose high Decree Admits no change and cannot frustrate be Came downe to Ionah from the heavens above Came downe to * Ionah heavens anointed Dove Ionah the flowre of old 〈◊〉 youth Ionah the Prophet Sonne and Heire to Truth The blessed Type of him that ransom'd us That Word came to him and bespake him thus Arise trusse up thy loynes make all thingâ— meet And put thy Sandals on thy hasty feet Gird up thy reynes and take thy staffe in hand Make no delay but goe where I command Me pleases not to send thee Ionah downe To sweet Gath-Hepher thy deare native Towne Whos 's tender paps with plenty overflow Nor yet unto thy brethren shalt thou goe Amongst the Hebrewes where thy sprâ—dden fame Fore-runnes the welcome of thine honor'd name No I 'le not send thee thither Vp arise And goe to Niniveh where no Allies Nor consanguinity preseâ—ves thy blood To Niâ—iveh where strangers are withstood To Niniveh a City farre remov'd From thine acquaintance where th' art not belov'd I send thee to Mount Sinay not Mount Sion Not to a gentle Lambe but to a Lion Nor yet to Lydia but to bloody Pashur Not to the Land of Canaan but of Ashur Whose language will be riddles to thine eares And thine againe will be as strange to thâ—irs Isay to Niniveh the worlds great Hall The Monarchs seat high Court Imperiall But terrible Mount Sinayâ—ill â—ill affright thee And Pashurs heavy hand is bent to smite thee The Lions rore the people'â— strong and stout The Bulwarkes stand a front to keepe thee out Great Ashur minaces with whip in hand To entertaine thee welcome to his land What then Arise be gone stay not to thinke Bad is the cloth that will in wetting shrinke What then if cruell Pashur heape on stroakes Or Sinay blast thee with her sulph'rous smokes Or Ashur whip thee Or the Lions rent thee Pâ—sh on with courage I the Lord have sent thee Away away lay by thy foolish pity Aâ—d goe to Niniveh that mighty City Cry loud against it let thy dreadfull voice Make all the City eccho with the noise Not like a Dove but like a Dragon goe Pronounce my judgement and denounce my Woe Make not thy bed a fountaine â—all of teares â—o weepe in secret for her sinnes Thine eares Sâ—all heare such things will make thine eyes run over â—hine eyes shall smart with what they shall discover Spend not in private those thy zealous drops But hew and backe spare neither trunke nor lâ—ps Make heaven and earth rebound when thou discharges Plead not like Paul but roare like Boanarges Nor let the beauty of the buildings bleare thee Let not the terrors of the Rampiers feare thee Let no man bribe thy fist I well advise thee Nor foule meanes force thee nor let faire entice thee Ramme up thine eares Thy heart of stone shall be Be deafe to them as they are deafe to me Goe cry against it If they aske thee why Say heavens great Lord commanded thee to cry My Altars cease to smoke their holy fires Are quencht and where praiers should their sin aspires The fatnesse of their fornication fryes On coales of ragiâ—g lâ—st and upward flies And makes me seek I heare the mournefull groâ—es And heavy sighes of such whose aking bones Th' oppressor grindes Alas their griefes implore me Their pray'rs prefer'd with teares plead lowd before 〈◊〉 Behold my sonnes they have opprest and kill'd And bath'd their hands within the blood they spill'd The steame of guiltlesse blood makes suit unto me The voâ—â—e of many bloods is mounted to me The vile prophaner of my sacred Names He teares my titles and my honour maimâ—s Makes Rhet'rick of an oath sweares and forsweares Recks not my Mercy nor my Iudgement feares They eatâ— they drinke they sleepe they tire the â—igh◠〈…〉 â—alliance and uncleane delight Heavens winged Herald Ionaâ— up and goe To mighty Niniveh Denounce my woe Advance thy voice and when thou hast advanâ—â—â— it Spare Shrub nor Cedar but cry out against it Hold out thy Trumpet and with louder breath Proclame my sudden comming and their death The Authors Apology IT was my morning Muse A Muse whose spirit Transcendâ— I feare the fortunes of her merit Too bold a Muse whose fethers yet in blood She never bath'd in the Pyrenean Flood A Muse unbreath'd unlikely to attaine An easie honour by so stout a Traine Expect no lofty Hagard that
Ionah sleepe so sound Could he sleepe then When with the sudden sight of Death the men So many men with yelling shrikes and cryes Made very heaven report Were Ionah's eyes Still clos'd and he not of his life bereaven Hard must he wink that shuts his eies from heaveÌ„ O righteous Isr'el where O where art thou Where is thy Lampe thy zealous Shepheard now Alas the rav'nous Wolves will worr ' thy Sheepe Thy Shepheard's carelesse and is falne asleepe Thy wandring flockes are frighted from their fold Their Shepherd's gone and Foxes are too bold They they whose smooth-fac'd words become the altar Their works dissent first begin to faulter And they that should be watchlights in the Temple Are snuffes and want the oyle of good example The chosen Watch-men that the tow'r should keep Ate waxen heavy-ey'd and falne asleepe ¶ Lord if thy watchmen wink too much awake theÌ„ Although they slumber do not quite forsake them The flesh is weake say not if dulnesse seize Their heavy eyes sleep henceforth take your â—ase And we poore weaklings when we sleepe in sin Knocke at our drowzy hearts and never lin Till thou awake our sin-congealed eyes Lest drown'd in sleepe we sinke and never rise THE ARGVMENT They question Ionah whence he came His Country and his peoples Name He makes reply They mone their woe And aske his counsell what to doe Sect 4. AS when a Thiefe's appr'hended on suspect And charg'd for some supposed malefact A rude concourse of people straight accrewes Whose itching eares even smart to know the newes The guilty pris'ner to himselfe betraid He stands dejected trembling and afraid So Ionah stood the Sailers all among Inclosed round amid the ruder throng As in a Summers evening you shall heare In Hives of Bees if you lay close your eare Confused buzzing and seditious noise Such was the murmure of the Saylers voice What was thy sinfull act that causes this Sayes one wherein hast thou so done amisse Tell us What is thine Art another sayes That thou professest Speake man Whences awayes From what Confines caâ—â—'st thou A third replyes What is thy Country And of what allies What art thou borne a Iew or Gentile whether 〈◊〉 he could lend an answer unto either A fourth dâ—â—ands Where hath thy breeding beene All what they askt they all askt o're agen In fine their eares impatient of delay Becalm'd their tongues to hear what he could say So 〈◊〉 humbly rearing up his eyes Breaking his long-kept silence thus replyes I am an Hebrew sonne of Abraham From whom my Land did first derive her name Within the Land of Iury was I borne My name is Ionah â—etchelesse and forlorne I am a Prophet ah but woe is me For from before the face of God I flee From whence through disobedience I am driven I seare Iehovah the great God of Heaven I feare the Lord of Hosts whose glorious hand Did make this stormy Sea and massie Land So said their eares with double ravishment Still hung upon his melting lips attent Whose dreadful words their harts so neer impiercâ—t That from themselves themselves were quite diversâ— As in a sowltry Summers evening tide When lustfull Phoebus re-salutes his Bride And Philomela 'gins her caroling A Herd of Deere are browzing in a Spring With eger appetite misdeeming nought Nor in so deepe a silence fearing ought A sudden cracke or some unthought-of sound Or bounce of Fowlers Peece or yelpe of Hound Disturbs their quiet peace w th strange amaze Where senslesse halfe through feare they stand aâ— gaze So stand the Sea-men as with Ghosts affrighted Entraunc'd with what this man of God recited Their tyred limbes doe now waxe faint and lither Their harts did yern their knees did smite together Congealed blood usurpt their trembling hearts And left a faintnesse in their feeble parts Who trembling out distracting language thus Why hast thou brought this mischiefe upon us What humour led thee to a place unknowne To seeke forraigne Land and leave thine owne What faith hadst thou by leaving thine abode To thinke to flye the presence of thy God Why hast thou not obey'd but thus transgrest The voyce of God whom thou acknowledgest Art thou a Prophet and dost thou amisse What is the cause and why hast thou done this What shall we do The tempest lends no eare To fruitlesse that nor dot the bâ—llowes heare Or marke our language Waves are not aâ—tent Our goods they flâ—at our needlesse paines are spent Our Barke's not weather proofe no Fort 's so stout To keepe continuall siege and battry out The Lot accuses thee thy words condemne thee The â—â—ves thy deaths men strive to overwhelme thee What she we doe Thou Prophet speake we pray thee Thou fear'dst the Lord Alas we may not stay thee Or shall we save thee No for thou dost flye The face of God and so deserv'sâ— to dye Thou Prophet speake what shall be done to thee That angry Sea may calme and quiet be Medita 4. GIve leave a little to adjoyne your text And ease my soule my soule with doubts perplexâ— Can he be said to feare the Lord that flyes him Can word confesse him when as deed denies him My sacred Muse hath rounded in mine eare And read the mystery of a twofold feare The first a servile feare for judgements sake And thus hells Fire-brands doe feare and quake Thus Adam fear'd and fled behinde a tree And thus did bloody Cain feare and flee Vnlike to this there is a second kinde Of feare extracted from a zealous minde Full fraught with love and with a conscience clear From base respects It is a filiall feare A feare whose ground would just remaine level Were neither Heaven nor Hel nor God nor devil Such was the feare that Princely David had And thus our wretched Ionah fear'd and fled He fled asham'd because his sinnes were such He fled asham'd because his feare was much He fear'd Iehovah other fear'd he none Him he acknowledg'd him hee fear'd alone Vnlike to those who being blinde with errour Frame many gods and multiply their terrour Th' Egyptians god Apis did implore God Assas the Chaldeans did adore Babel to the Devouring Dragon seekes Th' Arabians Astaroth Iuno the Greekes The name of Belus the Assyrians hallow The Troianâ— Vesta Corinth wise Apollo Th' Arginians sacrifice unto the Sunne To light-foot Mercury bowes Macedon To god Volunus Lovers bend their knee To Pavor they that faint and fearefull bee Who pray for health and strength to Murcia those And to Victoria those that feare to lose To Muta they that feare a womans tongue To great Lucinâ— women great with young To Esculapius they that live opprest And such to Quies that deâ—ier rest O blinded ignorance of antique times How blent with errour and how stuft with crimes Your Temples were And how adulterate How clogg'd with needlesse gods How obstinate How void of reason order how confuse How full of dangerous and foule abuse How sandy were
the grounds and how unstable How many Deities yet how unable Implore these gods that list to howle and barke They bow to Dagon Dagon to the Arke But hee to whom the seale of mercy 's given Adores Iehovah the Great God of Heaven Vpon the mention of whose sacred Name Meeke Lambs grow fierce the fierce Lions tame Bright Sol shall stop heaven shal turn his course Mountains shall dance and Neptune slake his force The Seas shall part the fire want his flame Vpon the mention of Iâ—hovah's Name A Name that makes the roofe of Heaven to shake The frame of Earth to quiver Hell to quake A Name to which all Angels blow their Trumps A Name puts frolicke man into his dumps Though ne're so blythe A Name of high renown It mounts the meeke and beats the loftie downe A Name divides the marrow in the bone A Name which out of hard and flintiâ— stone Extracteth hearts of flesh and makes relent Those hearts that never knew what mercy ment O Lord how great 's thy Name in all the Land How mighty are the wonders of thy hand How is thy glory plac't above the heaven To tender mouthes of Sucklings thou hast given Coercive pow'r and boldnesse to reproove When elder men doe what them not behoove O Lord how great 's the power of thine hand O God! how great 's thy Name in all the Land THE ARGVMENT The Prophet doth his fault discover Perswadeâ— the men to cast him over They row and toyle but doe no good They pray to be excus'd from blood Sect. 5. SO Ionah fram'd this speech to their demand Not that I seeke to traverse the command Of my deare Lord and out of minde perverse T' avoid the Ninivites doe I amerâ—e My selfe Nor that I ever heard you threat Vnlesse I went to Niniveh the great And doe the message sent her from the Lord That you would kill or cast me over-boord Doe I doe thiâ— 'T is my deserved fine You all are guiltlesse and the fault is mine T is I ' tâ—â— I alone 't is I am he The tempest comes from heaven the cause from me You shall not lose a haire â—or this my sâ—â— Nor perish for the fault that mine hath bin Lo I the man am here Lâ— I am he The root of all End your revenâ—e on me I fled th' Eternall God O let me then Because I fled my God so flie from men Redeeme your lives with mine Ah why should I Not guiltlesse live and you not guilty die I am the man for whom these billowes dance My death shall purchase your deliverance Feare not to cease your feares but throw me in Alas my soule is burthen'd with my sin And God is just and bent to his Decree Which certaine is and cannot alter'd be I am proclaim'd a Traitor to the King Of heaven an earth The windes with speedy wing Acquaint the Seas The Seas mount up on high And cannot rest untill the Traytor die Oh cast me in and let my life be ended Let Death make Iustice mends which Life offended Oh let the swellinâ— waters me enbalme So shall the Waves be still and Sea be calme So said th' amazed Mariners grew sad New Love abstracted what old Feare did adde Love called Pity Feare call'd vengeance in Love view'd the Sinner Feare beheld the Sin Love cry'd out Hold for better sav'd than spil'd But Feare cry'd Kill O better kill than kill'd Thus plung'd with Passions they distracted were Betwixt the hopes and doubts of Love and Feare Some cry'd out Save if this foule deed we doe Vengeance that haunted him will haunt us too Others cry'd No May rather death befall To one that hath deserv'd to dye then all Save him sayes one Oh save the man that thus His dearest blood hath profer'd to save us No sayes another vengeance must have blood And vengeance strikes most hard when most withstood In fine say all Then let the Prophet die And we shall live For Prophets cannot lye Loth to be guilty of their owne yet loth To haste poore Ionahs death with hope that both Th' approching evils might be at once prevented With prayers and paines reutter'd reattented They try'd new wayes despairing of the old Love quickens courage makes the spirits bold They strove in vaine by toile to win the shore And wrought more hard than erâ—e they did before But now both hands and hearts begin to quaile For bodies wanting rest must faint and faile The Seas are angry and the waves arise Appeas'd with nothing but a Sacrifice Gods vengeance stormeth like the raging Seas Which nought but Ionah dying can appease Fond is that labour which attempts to free What Heaven hath bound by a divine decree Ionah must die Heaven hath decreed it so Ionah must die or else they all die too Ionah must die that from his Lord did flie The Lott determines Ionah then must die His guilty word confirmes the sacred Lott Ionah must die then if they perish not If Iustice then appoint since he must die Said they us Actors of â—is Tragedy We beg not Lord a warrant to offend O pardon blood-shed that we must intend Though not our hands yet shall our hearts be cleare Then let not stainlesse consciences beare The pond'rous burden of a Murders guilt Or pay the price of blood that must be spilt For 〈◊〉 deare Lord it is thine owne decree And we sad ministers of Iustice be Meditat. 5. BVt stay a while this thing would first be known Can Ionah give himselfe and not his owne That part to God and to his Countrey this Pertaines so that a slender third is his Why then should Ionah doe a double wrong To deale himselfe away that did belong The least unto himselfe or how could hee Teach this Thou shalt not kill if Ionah be His life 's owne Butcher What was this a deed That with the Calling he profest agreed The purblinde age whose workes almost divine Did meerely with the oyle of Nature shine That knew no written Law nor Grace nor God To whip their conscience with a steely rod How much did they abhorre so foule a fact When led by Natures glimpse they made an act Selfe-murderers should be deny'd to have The charitable honour of a Grave Can such doe so when Ionah does amisse What Ionas Isr'els Teacher and doe this The Law of Charity doth all forbid In this thing to doe that which Ionah did Moreo're in charity 't is thy behest Of dying men to thinke and speake the best The mighty Samson did as much as this And who dare say that Samson did amisse If heavens high Spirit whisper'd in his eare Expresse command to doe 't No wavering feare Drew backe the righteous Abram's armed hand From Isaacks death secur'd by heavens command ¶ Sure is the knot that true Religion tyes And Love that 's rightly grounded never dyes It seemes a paradoxe beyond beliefe That men in trouble should prolong reliefe That Pagans to withstand a
first descend before the ball rebound It must be throwne with force against the ground The seed increases not in fruitfull eares Nor can she reare the goodly stalke she beares Vnlesse bestrow'd upon a mould of earth And made more glorious by a second birth So man before his wisedome can bring forth The brave exploits of truly noble worth Or hope the granting of his sinnes remission He must be humbl'd â—â—rst in sad contrition The plant through want of skill or by neglect If it be planted from the Sunnes reflect Or lacke the dew of seasonable showres Decayes and beareth neither fruit nor flowres So wretched Man if his repentance hath No quickning Sun-shine of a liuely Faith Or not bedew'd with showres of timely teares Or workes of mercy wherein Faith appeares His prayers and deeds and all his forced groanes Are like the howles of dogs and works of Drones The wise Chirurgeon first by letting blood Weakens his Patient ere he does him good Before the Soule can a true comfort finde The body must be prostrate and the minde Truly repentive and contrite within And loathe the fawning of a bosome sin But Lord Can Man deserve Or can his best Doe Iustice equall right which he transgrest When Dust and Ashes mortally offends Can Dust and Ashes make eternall mends Is Heaven unjust Must not the recompence Be full equivalent to the offence What mends by mortall Man can then be given To the offended Majesty of Heaven O Mercy Mercy on thee my Soule relyes On thee we build our Faith we bend our eyes Thou fill'st my empty strain thou fill'st my tongue Thou art the subject of my Swan-like song Like pinion'd pris'ners at the dying tree Our lingring hopes attend and wait on thee Arrain'd at Iustice barre prevent our doome To thee with joyfull hearts wee cheerly come Thou art our Clergy Thou that dearest Booke Wherein our fainting eyes desire to looke In thee we trust to read what will release us In bloody Characters that name of IESVS ¶ What shall we then returne the God of heaven Where nothing is Lord nothing can be given Our soules our bodies strength and all our pow'rs Alas were all too little were they ours Or shall wee burne untill our life expires An endlesse Sacrifice in Holy fires ¶ My Sacrifice shall bee my HEART intire My Christ the Altar and my Zeale the Fire THE ARGVMENT The Prophet discontented praye To God that he would end his dayes God blames his wrath so unreprest Reproves his unadvis'd request Sect 11. BVt this displeasing was in Ionah's eyes His heart grew hot his blood began to rise His eyes did sparkle and his teeth strucke fire His veines did boyle his heart was full ire At last brake forth into a strange request These words he pray'd and mumbl'd out the rest Was not O was not this my though O Lord Before I fled Nay was not this my word The very word my jealous language vented When this mis-hap might well have beene prevented Was there O was there not a just suspect My preaching would procure this effect For Lord I knew of old thy tender love I knew the pow'r thou gav'st my tongue would move Their Adamantine hearts I knew 't would thaw Their frozen spirits and breed relenting awe I knew great God upon their true repentance That thou determin'dst to reverse thy sentence For well I knew thou were a gracious God Of long forbearance slow to use the Rod I knew the power of thy Mercies bent The strength of all thy other workes outwent I knew the tender kindnesse and how loath Thou wert to punish and how slow to wrath Turning by Iudgements and thy plagues preventing Thy minde rever sing and of ev'll repenting Therefore O therefore upon this perswasion I fled to Tarshish there to make evasion To save thy credit Lord to save mine owne For when this blast of zeale is over-blowne And sackcloth left and they surcease to mourne When they like dogs shall to their vomit turne They 'll vilipend thy Sacred Word and scoffe it Saying was that a God or this a Prophet They 'll scorne thy judgements and thy threats despise And call thy Prophets Messengers of lyes Now therefore Lord bow downe attentive eare For ah my burthen's more than flâ—sh can beare Make speed O Lord and banish all delayes T' extinguish now the Taper of my dayes Let not the minutes of my time extend But let my wretched houres finde an end Let not my fainting spirits longer stay In this fraile mansion of distempered clay The threds but weake my life depends upon O cut that thred and let my life be done My brest stands faire strike then and strike againe For nought but dying can asswage my paine O may I rather dye than live in shame Better it is to leave and yeeld the game Than toyle for what at length must needs be lost O kill me for my heart is sore imbost This latter boone unto thy servant give For better 't is for me to dye than live So wretched Ionah But Iehovah thus What boot's it so to storme outragious Becomes it thus my servants heart to swell Can anger helpe thee Ionah dost thou well Medita 12. HOw poore a thing is maÌ„ How vain 's his mind How straÌ„ge how base wav'ring like the wind How uncouth are his wayes how full of danger How to himselfe is hee himselfe a stranger His heart 's corrupt and all his thoughts are vaine His actions sinfull and his words prophane His will 's deprav'd his senses are beguil'd His reason 's darke his members all defil'd His hasty feet are swift and prone to ill His guilty hands are ever bent to kill His tongue 's a spunge of venome or of worse Her practice is to sweare his skill to curse His eyes are fire-bals of lustfull fire And outward helps to inward foule desire His body is a well-erected station But full of folly and corrupted passion Fond love and raging lust and foolish feares Griefes overwhelmed with immoderate teares Excessive joy prodigious desire Vnholy anger red and hot as fire These daily clog the soule that 's fast in prison From whose encrease this lucklesse bâ—ood is risen Respectlesse pride and lustfull idlenesse Base ribbauld talke and loathsome drunkennesse Faithlesse Despaire and vaine Curiosity Both false yet double-tongu'd Hypocrisie Soft flattery and haughty-ey'd Ambition Heart-gnawing Hatred and squint-ey'd Suspition Selfe-eating Enâ—y envious Detraction Hopelesse distrust and too-too sad Dejection Revengefull Malice hellish Blasphemy Idolatry and light Inconstancy Daring Presumption wry-mouth'd Derisson Damned Apostasie Fond superstition ¶ What heedfull watch Ah what continuall ward How great respect and howerly regard Stands man in hand to have when such a brood Of furious hel-hounds seeke to suck his blood Day night and hower they rebell and wrastle And never cease till they subdue the Castle ¶ How slight a thing is man how fraile and brittle How seeming great is he How truly little
their jollities Or hadst thou lost thy Vineyard full of trees Hadst thou beene ravisht of thine onely Sheepe That in thy tender bosome us'd to sleepe How would thine â—asty spirit then bin stirr'd If thou art angry Ionah for a Gourd To which thus Ionah vents his idle breath Lord I doe well to vexe unto the death I blush not to acknowledge and professe Deserved rage I 'm angry I â—onfesse ' I would make a spirit that is thorow frozen To blaze like flaming Pitch and fry like Rozen Why dost thou aske that thing that thou canst â—ell Thou know'st I 'm angry ' and it beseemes me well So said the Lord to Ionah thus respake Doest thou bemoane and such compassion take Vpon a Gourd whose seed thou didst not sow Nor mov'd thy busie hands to make it grow Whose beauty small and value was but slight Which sprang as also perisht in a night Hadst thou O dust and ashes such a care Such in-bred pitty 'a trifling plant to spare Hadst thou O hard and incompassionate To wish the razing of so brave a State Hadst thou I say compassion to bewaile The extirpation of a Gourd so fraile And shall not I that am the Lord of Lords Whose Fountain's never dry but still affords Sweet streames of mercy with a fresh supply To those that thirst for grace What shall not I That am the God of mercy and have sworne To pardon sinners whensoe're they turne I say shall I disclaime my wonted pitty And bring to ruine such a goodly City Whose hearts so truely penitent implore me Who day and night powre forth their soules before me Shall I destroy the mighty Ninevie Whose people are like sands about the Sea 'Mong which are sixe score thousand Babes at least That bang upon their tender Mothers brest Whose pretty smiles could never yet descry The deare affection of their mothers eye Shall I subvert and bring to desolation A City nay more aptly term'd a Nation Whose walls boast lesse their beauty than their might Whose hearts are sorrowfull and soules contrite Whose Infants are in number so amounting And beasts and cottell endlesse without counting What Ionah shall a Gourd so move thy pity And shall not I spare such a goodly Citie Meditatio ultima MY heart is full my vent is too too straight My tongue 's too trusty to my poore conceit My mind's in labour and finds no redresse My heart conceives my lips cannot expresse MY organs suffer through a maine defect Alas I want a proper Dialect To blazon forth the tythe of what I muse The more I meditate the more accrewes But Io my faultring tongue must say no more Vnlesse she step where she hath trod before What shaâ—â— I then be silent No I le speake Till tongue be tyred and my lungs be weake Of dearest mercy in as sweet a straine As it shall please my â—use to lend a vaine And when my voice shall stop within her source And speech shall faulter in this high Discourse My tyred tongue unsham'd shall thus extend Onely to name Deare Mercy and so end ¶ Oh high Imperiall King heavens Architect Is Man a thing befittiâ—g thy â—espect Lord thou art Wisedome and thy wayes are holy But Man 's polluted full of filch and folly Yet is he Lord the tabricke of thy hand And in his Soule he beares thy glorious Brand Howe're defaced with the rust of Sin Which hath abus'd thy stamp and eaten in 'T is not the frailty ' of Mans corrupted nature Makes thee asham'd t' acknowledge Man thy Creature But like a tender Father here on earth Whose Childe by nature or abortive birth Doth want that sweet and favourable relish Wherewith her creatures Nature doth imbelish Respects him nerethelesse even so thy Grace Great God extends to Man though sin deface The glorious pourtraiture that man doth beare Whereby he loath'd and ugly doth appeare Yet thou within whose tender bowels are Deepe gulfes of Mercy sweet beyond compare Regard'st and â—ov'st with rev'rence â—e it said Nay seem'st to dote on Maâ— when he hath straid Lord thou hast broâ—ght him to his Fold againe When he was lost thou didst not then disdaine To thinke upon a vagabond and give Thy dearest Sonne to dye that he might live How poore a mite art thou content withall That â—an may â—cape his downeâ—approching fall Though base we are yet thou dost not abhorre us But as our Story speaks art pleading for us To save us harmelesse from our Foe-mans jawes Art thou turn'd Orator to plead our cause ¶ How are thy Mercies full of admiration How soveraigne how sweet's their application Fatning the Soule with sweetnesse and repayring The rotten ruines of a Soule despairing ¶ Lo here Malfido is a Feast prepar'd Fall to with courage and let nought be spar'd Tast freely of it Here 's no Misers Feast Eate what thou canst and pocket up the rest These precious Viands are Restoritie Eate then and if the sweetnesse make thee drie Drinke large Carouses out of Mercies Cup The best lies in the bottome Drinke all up These Cates are sweet Ambrosia to thy Soule And that which fills the brim of Mercies bowle Is dainty Nectar Eate and drinke thy fill Spare not the one nor yet the other spill Provide in time Thy Banquet is begun Lay up in store against the Feast be done For loe the time of banquetting is short And once being done the world cannot restor't It is a feast of Mercy and of Grace It is a Feast for all or high or base A feast for him that begs upon the way As well for him that does the Scepter sway A feast for him that howerly bemoanes His dearest sins with sighs and teares and groaneâ— A feast for him whose gentle heart reformes A feast for MEN and so a FEAST FOR WORMES ¶ Deare liefest Lord that feast'st the World with gracâ— Extend thy bounteous hand thy glorious face Bid ioyfull welcome to thy hungry guest That we may praise the Master of the Feast And in thy mercy grant this boone to mee That I may dye to sinne and live to thee S. AMBROSE Misericordia est plenitudo omnium virtutum FINIS THE GENERALL VSE OF this HISTORY ¶ WHen as the ancient world did all imbark Within the compass of good Noahs Arke Forth to the new-washt earth a Dove was sent Who in her mouth return'd an Olive plant Which in a silent language this related How that the waters were at length abated Those swelling waters is the wrath of God And like the Dove are Prophets sent abroad The Olive-leafe's a joyfull Type of peace A faithfull signe Gods vengeance doth decrease They salve the wounded heart and make it whole They bring glad tydings to the drooping soule Proclaiming grace to them that thirst for Grace Mercy to those that Mercy will embrace ¶ Malfido thou in whose distrustfull brest Despaire hath brought in sticks to build her nest Where she may safely lodge her lucklesse brood To feed upon thy
gnaw Prometheus And let poore Ixion turne his endlesse wheele Let Nemesis torment with whips of steele They far come short t' expresse the paines of those That rage in Hell enwrapt in endlesse woes Where time no end and plaguâ—s finde no exemption Where cryes admit no helpe nor place redemption Where fier lacks no flame the flame no beat To make their torments sharpe and plagues compleaâ— Where wretched Soules to tortures bound shall beâ— Serving a world of yeares and not be Freâ— Where nothing's heard but yells and sudden cryes Where â—ier never flakes nor Worme e're dyes But where this Hell is plac'd my Muse stop there Lord shew me what it is but never where Mors tua 1. ¶ CAn he be faire that withers at a blast Or he be strong that ayery Breath can cast Can he be wise that knowes not how to live Or hee be rich that nothing hath to give Can he be young that 's feeble weake and wan So faire strong wise so rich so young is mâ—n So faire is Man that Death a parting Blast Blasts his faire flow'r and makes him Earth at last So strong is Man that with a gasping Breath Hee totters and bequeathes his strength to Deatâ— So wise is Man that if with Death he strive His wisedome cannot teach him how to live So rich is Man that all his Debts b'ing paid His wealth 's the winding-sheet wherein he 's laid So yong is Man that broke with care and sorrow He 's old enough to day to Dye to morrow Why brag'st thou theÌ„ thou worm of five-foot long Th' art neither faire nor strong nor wise nor rich nor 〈◊〉 Mors Christi 2. I Thurst and who shall quench this eager Thurst I grieve and with my griefe my heart will burst I grieve because I thurst without reliefe I thurst because my Soule is burnt with griefe I thurst and dry'd with griefe my heart will dye I grieve and thurst the more for Sorrow's dry The more I grieve the more my thurst appeares Would God I had not griev'd out all my teares I thurst and yet my griefes have made a Floud But teares are salt I grieve and thurst for blood I grieve for blood must send reliefe I thurst for blood for blood for blood must ease my griefe I thurst for sacred blood of a deare Lambe I grieve to thinke from whence that deare blood came 'T was shed for me O let me drinke my fill Although my griefe remaine entier still O soveraigne pow'r of that Vermilian Spring Whose vertue neither heart coÌ„ceives nor tongue can sing Fraus Mundi 3. I Love the World as Clients love the Lawes To manage the uprightnesse of my Cause The World loves me as Shepheards doe their flockes To rob and spoile them of their fleecy lockes I love the World and use it as mine Inne To bait and rest my tyred sarkeise in The World loves me For what To make her 〈◊〉 For filthy sinne she sels me timely shame She 's like the Basiliske by whose sharpe eyes The living object first discover'd dyes Forth from her eyes empoysoned beames do durâ—â— Dyes like a Basiliske discerned first We live at jarres as froward Gamesters doe Still guarding nor regarding others foe I love the World to serve my turne and leave her 'T is no deceit to coâ—zen a Deceiver She 'll not misse me I lesse the world shall misse To lose a world of griefe t' enjoy a world of Blâ—sse Gloria Coeli 4. EArth stands immov'd and fixt her situation Admits no locall change no alteration Heaven alway moves renewing still his place And ever sees us with another Face Earth standeth fixt yet there I live opprest Heaven alway mooves yet there is all my rest Enlarge thy selfe my Soule with meditation Mount there and there bespeake thy habitatioâ— Where joies are full pure not mixt with mourniâ—â— All endlesse and from which is no returning No theft no cruell murther harbours there No hoary-headed Care no sudden Feare No pinching want no griping-fast oppression Nor Death the stipend of our first transgression But dearest Friendship Love and lasting Plâ—â—sure Still there abides without or stint or measure Fulnesse of Riches comfâ—â—â—t sempeternall Excesse without a surfetting And Life Eternall Dolor Inferni 5. THe Trump shall blow the dead awak'd shal rise And to the Clouds shall turn their wondring eies The heav'ns shal ope the Bridegroom forth shal come To judge the World and give the World her doome Ioy to the Iust to others endlesse smart To those the Voyce bids Come to these Depart Depart from Life yet dying live for ever For ever dying be and yet Dye never Depart like Dogs with Devils take your lot Depart like Devils for I know you not Like Dogs like Devils goe Goe howle and barke Depart in darknesse for your deeds were darke Let râ—aring be your Musicke and your Food Be flesh of Vipers and your drinke their blood Let Fiends afflict you with Reproach and Shame Depart depart into Eternall Flame If Hell the Guerdon then of Sinners be Lord give me Hell on earth Lord give mee heav'n with thee vv vv Iam deâ—ine Tibia versus FINIS Hadassa Horat. Ode 6. â—onamur tenues grandia nec pudor â—mbellisque Lyrae Musapotens vetat By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1632. A PREFACE TO THE READER A Sober veine best suits Theologie If therefore thou expect'st such Elegancy as takes the times affect some subject as will beare it Had I laboured with over-abundaÌ„ce of fictions or flourishes perhaps they had exposed mee censurable and disprized this sacred subject Therefore I rest more sparing in that kinde Two things I would treate of First the matter secondly the manner of this History As for the matter so farre as I have dealt it is Canonicall and indited by the holy Spirit of God not lyable to errour and needs no blanching In it Theologie sits as Queene attended by her handmaid Philosophy both concurring to make the understanding Reader a good Divine and a wise Moralist As for the Divinitie it discovers the Almighty in his two great Attributes in his Mercy delivering his Church in his Iustice confounding her enemies As for the Morality it offers to us the whole practick part of Philosophy dealt 〈◊〉 into Ethicks Politicks and Oeconomickâ— 1. The Ethical part the object wherof is thâ— manners of a private man ranges throâ—â—â— the whole booke and empties it selfe 〈◊〉 the Catalogue of Morall vertues either thâ—â— that governe the body as Fortitude Châ—â— 9. 2. and Temperance Chap. 1. 8. or thoâ—â— which direct the soule either in outwaâ—â— things as Liberalitie Chap 1. 3. Magnifâ—cence Chap. 1. 6. Magnanimity Chap. 2. â— and Modesty Chap. 6. 12. or in conversatioâ— as Iustice Chap. 7. 9. Mansuetude Chap 5 c. 2. The Politicall part the object whereof publike Societie instructs first in the behaviour of a Prince to his Subject in punishâ—â— his vice Chap 7. 10. in rewarding of vertuâ—
he lists No power is of man to love or hate Lyes not in mortals brest or pow'r of Fate MaÌ„ wants the strength to sway his strong affections What power is is from Divine directions Which oft unseene through dulnesse of the minde We nick name Chance because our selves are blind And that 's the cause mans first beholding eye Oft loves or hates and knowes no reason why ¶ 'T was not the brightnesse of Rebecca's face Or servants skill that wan the virgins grace 'T was not the wish or wealth of Abraham Or Isacks fortune or renowned name His comely personage or his high desert Obtain'd the conquest of Rebecca's heart Old Abra'm wisht in secret God directed 'T was Abra'm us'd the meanes 't was God effected Best marriages are made in heaven In heaven The hearts are joyn'd in earth the hands are given First God ordaines then man confirmes the Love Proclaming that on earth was done above ¶ 'T was not the sharpnesse of thy wandring eye Great King Assuerus to picke Majesty From out the sadnesse of a Captives face 'T was not alone thy chusing nor her grace Who mounts the meeke and beates the lofty down Gave thee the heart to chuse gave her the Crown Who blest thy fortunes with a second wife He blest thy fortunes with a second life That brest that entertain'd so sweet a Bride Stood faire to Treason by her meanes descride With double fortunes wer 't thou doubly blest To finde so faire and scape so foule a guest ¶ Thou aged father of our yeares and houres For thou as well discoverst as devoures Search still the entrails of thy just Records Wherein are entred the diurnall words And deeds of mortall men Bring thou to light All trech'rous projects mann'd by craft or might With Towr's of Brasse their faithful heart's imbosse That beare the Christian colours of the Crosse. ¶ And Thou Preserver of all mortall things Within whose hands are plac'd the hearts of Kings By whom all Kingdomes stand and Princes raigne Preserve thy CHARLES and my dear Soveraigne Let Traitors plots like wandring Atomes fly And on their heads pay ten-fold usury His bosome tuter and his safety tender O be thou his as hee 's thy Faiths Defender That thou in him and hee in thee may rest And we of both may live and die possest THE ARGVMENT The line of Haman and his race His fortunes in the Princes grace His rage to Mordecai exprest Not bowing to him as the rest Sect 7. VPon a time to Persias Royall Court A forraigne Stranger used to resort He was the issue of a royall breed The off-cast off-spring of the cursed seed Of Amelck from him descended right That sold his birth-right for his Appetite 〈◊〉 his name His fortunes did improve Increast by favour of the Princes love Full great he grew preferd to high command And plac'd before the Princes of the Land And since that honour and due reverence Belong where Princes give preeminence The King commands the servants of his State To suit respect to Hamans high estate And doe him honour fitting his degree With vailed bonnet and low bended knee They all observ'd but aged Mordecai Whose stubborne joynts neglected to obey The seed which Heaven with infamy had branded Stoutly refused what the King commanded Which when the servants of the King had seene Their fell disdaine mixtwith an envious spleene Inflam'd They question'd how he durst withstand The just performance of the Kings Command Daily they checkt him for his high disdaine And hee their checks did daily entertaine With silent slight behaviour which did prove As full of care as their rebukes of love ¶ Since then their hearts not able to abide A longer sufferance of his peevish pride Whose scorching fires passion did augment Must either breake or finde a speedy vâ—nt To Haman they th' unwelcome newes related And what they said their malice aggravated Envie did ope her Snake-devouring Iawes Foam'd frothy blood and bent her unked Pawes Her hollow eyes did cast out sudden flame And pale as ashes look't this angry Dame And thus bespake Art thou that man of might That Impe of Glory Times great Favorite Hath thy deserved worth restor'd againe The blemisht honour of thy Princely straine Art thou that Wonder which the Persian State Stands gazing at so much and poynting at Filling all woâ—dring eyes with Admiration And every loyall heart with Adoration Art thou that mighty He How haps it then That wretched Mordecai the worst of men A captive slave a superstitious Iew Slights thee and robs thee of thy righfull due Nor was his fault disguis'd with Ignâ—â—â—ce The unfee'd Advocate of sinne or Chance But backt with Arrogance and foâ—le Despite Rise up and doe thy suffring honour right Vp like his deepe Revenge rose Haman then And like a sleeping Lion from his Den Rouz'd his relentlesse Rage But when his eye Confirm'd the newes Report did testifie His Reason straight was heav'd from off his henge And Fury rounded in his eare Revenge And like a rash Adviser thus began There 's nothing Haman is more deare to man Aâ—d cooles his â—oyling veines with sweeter pleasure Than quicke revenge for to revenge by leisure Is but like feeding when the stomacke 's past Pleasing nor eager appetite nor taste â—et when delay returnes Revenge the greater Like poynant saâ—ce it makes the meate the sweeter It fiâ—s not th' honour of thy personage Nor stands it with thy Greatnesse to ingage Thy noble thoughts to make Revenge so poore To â—e reveng'd on one alone thy sore Needs many plaisters make thy honour good Not with a drop but with a world of blood Borrow the Syâ—â—e of Time and let thy Passion Mowe downe thy Iewish Foe with all his Nation Medita 7. FIghts God for cursed Amalek That hand That once did curse doth now the curse withstand Is God unjust Is Iustice fled from heaven Or are the righteous Ballances uneven Is this that Iust Iehova's sacred Word Firmely inroll'd within the Lawes Record I le fight with Amalek destroy his Nation And from remembrance blurre his Generation What shall his curse to Amalek be void And with those plagues shall Isr'el be destroyd Ah sooner shall the sprightfull flames of fire Descend and moysten and dull earth aspire And with her drinesse quench faire Titans heate Then shall thy words and just Decrees retreat The Day as wery of his burden tyres The Yeare full laden with her months expires The heav'ns growne great with age must soon decay The pondrous earth in time shall passe away But yet thy sacred words shall alway flourish Though daies years heaveÌ„ earth do perish How perkes proud Haman then What prosp'rous fate Exalts his Pagan head How fortunate Hath favour crown'd his times Hath God decreed No other Curse upon that cursed seed The mortall eye of man can but perceive Things present when his heart cannot conceive Hee 's either by his outward senses guided Or like a Quere
have still conspir'd to blesse That faithfull seed and with a faire successe Have crown'd their just designes If Mordecai Descend from thence thy hopes shall soone decay And melt like waxe before the mid-day Sun So said her broken speech not fully done Haman was hasted to Queene Esters Feast To mirth and joy an indisposed Guest Medita 13. THere 's nothing under heaven more glorifies The name of King or in a subjects eyes Winnes more observance or true loyalty Than sacred Iustice shared equally No greater glory can belong to Might Than to defend the feeble in their right To helpe the helplesse and their wrongs redresse To curbe the haughty-hearted and suppresse The proud requiting ev'ry speciall deed With punishment or honourable meed Herein Kings aptly may deserve the name Of gods enshrined in an earthly frame Nor can they any way approach more nye The full perfection of a Deity Than by true Iustice imitating heaven In nothing more than in the poizing eaven Their righteous ballance Iustice is not blinde As Poets feigne but with a sight refin'd Her Lyncian eyes are clear'd and shine as bright As doe their errours that denie her sight The soule of Iustice resteth in her eye Her contemplation's chiefly to descry True worth from painted showes and loyalty From false and deepe dissembled trechery A noble Statesman from a Paraâ—ite And good from what is meerely good in sight Such hidden things her piercing eye can see If Iustice then be blinde how blinde are we ¶ Right fondly have the Poets pleas'd to say From earth the faire Astraea's fled away And in the shining Baudrike takes her seat To make the number of the Signes compleat For why Astraea doth repose and rest Within the Zodiake of my Sov'raignes brest And from the Cradle of his infancy Hath train'd his Royall heart with industry In depth of righteous lore and sacred thewes Of Iustice Schoole that this my Haggard Muse Cannot containe the freenesse of her spright But make a Mounty at so faire a flight Perchance though like a bastard Eagle daz'd With too great light she winke and fall amaz'd ¶ Heav'n make my heart more thankfull in confessing So high a blisse than skilfull in expressing THE ARGVMENT The Quene brings Hamans accusation The King 's displeas'd and growes in possion Proud Hamans trechery descry'd The shamefull end of shamelesse pride Sect. 14. FOrthwith to satisfie the Queenes request The King and Haman came unto her Feast Whereat the King what then can hap amisse Became her suitor that was humbly his And fairely thus intreating this bespake What is 't Queene Ester would and for her sake What is 't the King would not preferre thy suit Faire Queene Those that despaire let them be mute Cleare up those clouded beames my fairest Bride My Kingdomes halfe requested I 'le divide Whereat the Queene halfe hoping halfe afraid Disclos'd her trembling lips and thus she said If in the bounty of thy Princely Grace Thy sad Petitioner may finde a place To shrow â—her most unutterable griefe Which if not there may hope for no reliefe If in the treasure of thy gracious eyes Where mercy and relenting pity lies Thy hand-â—aid hath found favour let my Lord Grant me my life my life so much abbord To doe him service and my peoples life Which now lye open to a Tyrants knife Our lives are sold 't is I t is guiltlesse I Thy loyall Spouse thy Queene and â—ers must dye The spotlesse blood of me thy faithfull Bride Must swage the swelling of a Tyrants pride Had we beene sold for drudges to attend The busie Spindle or for slaves to spend Our weary howers to deserve our bread So as the gaine stood but my Lord in stead I had beene silent and ne're spent my breath But neither he that seekes it nor my death Can to himselfe the least advantage bring Except revenge nor to my Lord the King Like to a Lyon rouzed from his rest Rag'd then the King and thus his rage exprestâ— Who is the man that dares attempt this thing Where is the Traitor What am I a King May not our subjects serve but must our Queene Be made the subject of a visâ—aines spleene Is not Queene Ester bosom'd in our heart What Traitor then dares be so bold to part Our heart and us Who dares attempt this thing Can Ester then be slaine and not the King Reply'd the Queene The man that hath done this That cursed Haman wicked Haman is Like as a Felon shakes before the Bench Whose troubled silence proves the Evidence So Haman trembled when Queene Ester spake Nor answer nor excuse his guilt could make The King no longer able to digest So foule a trechery forsooke the Feast Walk'd in the Garden where consuming rage Boil'd in his heart with fire unapt t' asswage So Haman pleading guilty to the fault Besought his life of her whose life he sought When as the King had walk'd a little space So rage and choller often shift their place In he return'd where Haman fallen flat Was on the bed whereon Queene Ester sate Whereat the King new cause of rage debares Apt to suppose the worst of whom he hates New passion addes new fuell to his fire And faines a cause to make it blaze the higher Is 't not enough for him to seeke her death Said hee but with a Letchers tainted breath Will be inforce my Queene before my face And make his Brothell in our Royall Place So said they veiled Hamans face as he Vnfit were to be seene or yet to see Then said an Eunuch sadly standing by In Hamans Garden fifty Cubits high There stands a Gibbet built but yesterday Made for thy loyall servant Mordecai Whose faithfull lips thy life from danger freed And merit leads him to a fairer meed Said then the King It seemeth just and good To shed his blood that thirsted after blood Who plants the tree deserves the fruit 't is fit That he that bought the purchase hansell it Hang Haman there It is his proper good So let the Horseleach burst himselfe with blood They straight obeyd Lo here the end of Pride Now rests the King appeas'd and satisfi'd Meditat. 14. CHeere up and caroll forth your silver ditie Heavens winged quiristers and fil your City earth The new Ierusalem with jolly mirth The Church hath peace in heaven hath peace on Spread forth your golden pinions and cleave The flâ—tting skies dismount and quite bereave Our stupid senses with your heavenly mirth For loe there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth Let Hallelujah fill your warbling tongues And let the ayre compos'd of saintly songs Breathe such celestiall Sonnets in our eares That whosoe're this heav'nly musicke heares May stand amaz'd ravisht at the mirth ChaÌ„t forth there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth Let mountaines clap their joyfull joyfull hands And let the lesser hils trace o're the lands In equall measure and resounding woods Bow downe your heads
and kisse your neighb'ring floods Let peace and love exalt your key of mirth For now there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth You holy Temples of the highest Kingâ— Triumph with joy Your sacred Anthemes sing Chant forth your Hymns heav'nly roundelaies And touch your Organs on their louder keyes For Haman's dead that daÌ„ted al your myrth And now there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth Proud Haman's dead whose life disturb'd thy rest Who sought to cut and seare thy Lilly brest The rav'nous Fox that did annoyance bring Vnto the Vineyard â—s taken in a Spring ¶ Seem'd not thy Spouse unkind to hear thee weep And not redresse thee Seem'd he not asleepe No Sion no he heard thy bitter pray'r But let thee weepe for weeping makes thee faire The morning Sun reflects and shines most bright When Pilgrims grope in darknesse all the night The Church must conquer e're she gets he prize But there 's no conquest where 's no enemies The day is thine In triumph make thy mirth For now there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth What man 's so dull or in his brains undone To say because he sees not There 's no Sun Weake is the faith upon a sudden griefe That sayes because not now There 's no reliefe God's bound to helpe but loves to see men sue Though datelesse yet the bond 's not present due ¶ Like to the sorrowes of our child-bed wives Is the sad pilgrimage of humane lives But when by throes God sends a joyfull birth Then find we peace in heav'n peace on earthâ— THE ARGVMENT Vpon the Queene and Mordecai Dead Hamans wealth and dignity The King bestowes to their discretion Referres the Iewes decreed oppression Sect. 15. THat very day the King did freely adde More bounty to his gift What Haman had Borrow'd of smiling Fortune he repaid To Esters hand and to her use convaid And Mordecai found favour with the King Vpon his hand he put his Royall Ring Whose Princely pow'r proud Haman did abuse In late betraying of the guiltlesse Iewes For now had Ester to the King descry'd Her Iewish kin how neere she was ally'd To Mardocheus whom her father dead His love did foster in her fathers ' stead Once more the Queene prefers an earnest suit Her humble body lowly prostitute Before his Royall feet her cheekes o'reflowne With marish teares and thus her plain'full mone Commix't with bitter singults she exprest If in he Cabin of thy Prinâ—ely brest Thy loyall servant undeserv'd hath found A plâ—ce wherein her wishes might be crown'd With faire successe If in thy gracious â—ight I pleasing or my cause seeme just and right Be speedy letters written to reverse Those bloody Writs which Haman did disperse Throughout thy Provinces whose sad content Was the subversion of my innocent And faithfull people Helpe my gracious Lord The time 's prefixt wherein th' impartiall Sword Must make this massacre the day 's at hand Vnlesse thy speedy Grace send countermand How can I brooke within my tender brest To breake the bonds of Natures high behest And see my peoplâ— for whose sake I breath Like stalled Oxen bought and sould for death How can I see such mischiefe how can I Survive to see my kin and people dye Said then the King Lo cursed Haman hath The execution of our highest wrath The equall hire of his malicious pride His welth to thee I gave my fairest Bride His honour better plac'd I have bestow'd On him to whom my borrow'd life hath owâ—d Her five yeares breath the trusty Mordecai Our loyall kinsman Let his hand pourtray Our pleasure as best liketh him and thâ—e Let him set downe and be it our Dâ—cree Let him confirme it with our Royall Ring And we shall signe it with the name of King For none may alter or reverse the same That 's seal'd and written in our Princely name Medita 15. TO breathe 's a necessary gift of nature Whereby we may discerne a living Creature From plants or stones 'T is but a meere degree From Vegetation and this hath shee Like equally shar'd out to brutish beasts With man who lesse observes her due behests Sometimes than they and oft by accident Doe lesse improve the gift in the event But man whose organs are more fairely drest To entertaine a farre more noble Guest Hath through the excellence of his Creation A Soule Divine Divine by inspiration Divine through likenesse to that pow'r Divine That made and plac'd her in her fleshly shrine From hence we challenge lifes prerogative Beasts onely breath 'T is man alone doth live One end of mans Creation was Societie Mutuall Communion and friendly Piety The man that lives unto himselfe alone Subsists and breaths but lives not Never one Deserv'd the moity of himselfe for hee That 's borne may challenge but one part of three Triparted thus his Country clames the best The next his Parents and himselfe the least He husbands best his life that freely gives It for the publike good he rightly lives That nobly dyes 't is greatest mastery Not to be fond to live nor feare to dye On just occasion He that in case despises Life earnes it best but he that over-prizes His dearest blood when honour bids him die Steales but a life and lives by Robbery ¶ O sweet Redeemer of the world whose death Deserv'd a world of lives Had Thy deare breath Beone deare to Thee Oh had'st Thou but deny'd Thy precious Blood the world for e'r had dy'd O spoile my life when I desire to save it By keeping it from Thee that freely gave it THE ARGVMENT Letters are sent by Mordecai That all the Iewes upon the day Appointed for their death withstand The fury of their â—oe-mens hand Sect. 16. FOrthwith the scribes were summon'd to appear To ev'ry Province and to ev'ry Shire Letters they wrote as Mordecai directed To all the Iewes the Iewes so much dejected To all Liev-tenants Captains of the Band To all the States and Princes of the Land According to the phrase and divers fashion Of Dialect and speech of ev'ry Nation All which was stiled in the name of King Sign'd with his hand seal'd with his Royall Ring Loe here the tenour of the Kings Commission Whereas of late at Hamans urg'd petition Decrees were sent and spred throughout the Land To spoile the Iewes and with impartiall hand Vpon a day prefixt to kill and slay We likewise grant upon that very day Full power to the Iewes to make defence And quit their lives and for a Recompence To take the spoiles of those they shall suppresse Shewing like mercy to the mercilesse By posts as swift as Time was this Decree Commanded forth As fast as Day they flee Spurr'd on and hast'ned with the Kings Command Which straight was noys'd publisht through the Land As warning to the Iewes to make provision To entertaine so great an opposition So Mordecai disburthned of his griefe Which now found
hopefull tokenâ— of reliefe Departs the presence of the King addrest In royall Robes and on his lofty Crest He bore a Crowne of Gold his body spred With Lawne and Purple deepely coloured Fill'd were the Iewes with triumphs with noise The common Heralds to proclaime true joyes Like as a prisner muffled at the tree Whose life 's remov'd from death scarce one degree His last pray'r said and hearts confession made His eyes possessing deaths eternall shade At last unlook'd for comes a slow Reprieve And makes him even as dead once more alive Amaz'd he rends deaths muffler from his eyes And over-joy'd knowes not he lives or dyes So joy'd the Iewes whose lives this new Decree Had quit from death and danger and set free Their gasping soules and like a blazing light Disperst the darknesse of the approaching night So joy'd the Iewes and with their solemne Feasts They chaâ—'d dull sorrow from their penâ—ive brestsâ— Meane while the people startled at the newes Some griev'd some envi'd some for feare turn'd Iewes Meditat. 16. AMong the noble Greekes it was no shame To lose a Sword It but deserv'd the name Of warres disastrous fortune but to yeeld The right and safe possession of the Shield Was foule reproach and manlesse cowardize Farre worse than death to him that scorn'd to prize His life before his Honour Honour 's wonne Most in a just defence Defence is gone The Shield once lost the wounded Theban cry'd How fares my Shield which safe he smil'd dy'd True honour bides at home and takes delight In keeping not in gaining of a Right Scornes usurpation nor seekes she blood And thirsts to make her name not great as good God gives a Right to man To man defence To guard it giv'n but when a false pretence Shall ground her title on a greater Might What doth he else but warre with heav'n and fight With Providence God seâ—s the Princely Crowne On heads of Kings Who then may take it downe No juster quarrell or more noble Fight Than to maintaine where God hath giv'n a Right There 's no despaire of Conquest in that warre Where God's the Leader Policy 's no barre To his designes no Power can withstand His high exploits within whose mighty Hand Are all the corners of the earth the hills His fensive bulwarks are which when he wills His lesser breath can bandy up and downe And crush the world and with a winke can drowne The spacious Vniverse in suds of Clay Where heav'n is Leader heav'n must win the day God reapes his honour hence That combat's safe Where hee 's a Combatant and ventures halfe Right 's not impair'd with weaknesse but prevailes In spight of strength wheÌ„ strength power failes Fraile is the trust repos'd on Troops of Horse Truth in a handfull findes a greater force ¶ Lord maile my heart with faith and be my shield And if a world confront me I 'le not yeeld THE ARGVMENT The bloody Massacre The Iâ—wes Prevaile their â—atall sword subdues A world of men and in that â—ray Hamans ten cursed sonnes they slay Sect. 17. NOw when as Time had rip'ned the Decree Whose Winter fruit unshaken from the tree Full ready was to fall and brought that Day Wherein pretended mischiefe was to play Her tragicke Sceane upon the Iewish Stage And spit the venome of her bloody rage Vpon the face of that dispersed Nation And in a minute breathe their desolation Vpon that day as patients in the fight Their scatter'd force the Iewes did reunite And to a head their straggling strength reduc'd And with their fatall hand their hand disus'd To bathe in blood they made so long recoyle That with a purple streame the thirsty soyle O'rflowd on the pavement drown'd with blood Where never was before they rais'd a flood There lies a headlesse body there a limme Newly dis-joynted from the trunke of him That there lies groaning here a gasping head Cropt froÌ„ his neighbors shoulders there halfe dead Full heapes of bodies whereof some curse Fate Others blaspheme the name of Heav'n and rate Their undisposed Starres with bitter cries One pities his poore widow-wife and dies Another bannes the night his sonnes were borne That he must dye and they must live forlorne Here all besmeard in blood congeald there lyes A throng of carcases whose livelesse eyes Are clos'd with dust death there lies the Syre Whose death the greedy heire did long desire And here the sonne whose hopes were all the pleasure His aged father had and his lifes treasure Thus fell their foes some dying and some dead And onely they that scap'd the slaughter fled But with such strange amazement were affrighted As if themselves in their owne deaths delighted That each his force against his friend addrest And sheath'd his sword within his neighbours brest For all the Rulers being sore afraid Of Mardocheus name with strength and ayde Supply'd the Iewes For Mardecheus name Grew great with honour and his honour'd Fame Was blaz'd through ev'ry Province of the Land And spred as farre as did the Kings Command In favour he increast and ev'ry how'r Did adde a greater greatnesse to his pow'r Thus did the Iewes triumph in victory And on that day themselves were doom'd to dye They slew th' appointed actors of their death And on their heads they wore that noble wreath That crownes a Victor with a Victors prize So fled their foes so dyde their enemies And on that day at Susan were imbru'd In blood five hundred men whom theyâ— subdu'd The cursed fruit of the accursed Tree That impious Decad Hamaâ—s progeny Vpon that fatall day they overthrew But tooke no spoile nor substance where they slew Medit. 17. I Lately mus'd and musing stood amaz'd My heart was bound my sight was overdaz'd To view a miracle could Pharo fall Before the face of Isr'el Could her small And ill-appointed handfull then prevaile When Pharo's men of warre and Charr'ots faile These stood like Gyants those like Pigmy brats These soar'd like Eagles those like swarms of gnats On foote these marcht those rod on troops of horse These never better arm'd they never worse Strong backt with vengeaÌ„ce revenge were they These with despaire themselves theÌ„selves betray They close pursu'd these fearefull fled the field How could they chuse but win or these but yeeld Sure 't is nor man nor horse nor sword availes When Isr'el conquers and great Pharo failes Poore Isr'el had no man of warre but One And Pharo having all the rest had none Heav'n fought for Isr'el weakned Pharo's heart Who had no Counter-god to take his part What meant that cloudy Pillar that by day Did usher Isr'el in an unknowne way What meant that fi'ry Pillar that by night Appear'd to Isr'el and gave Isr'el light 'T was not the secret power of Moses Rod That charm'd the Seas in twaine 't was Moses God That fought for Isr'el and made Pharo fall Well thrives the Fray where God's the Generall 'T is neither
strength nor undermining sleight Prevailes where heav'ns ingaged in the fight ¶ Me list not ramble into antique dayes To manne his theame lest while Vlysses strayes His heart forget his home Penelope Our prosp'rous Brittaine makes sufficient Plea To prove her blisse and heav'ns protecting power Which had she mist her glory in an hower Had falne to Cinders and had past away Like smoke before the winde Which happy Day Let none but base-bred Rebels ever faile To consecrate and let this Age entaile Vpon succeeding times Eternity Heav'ns highest love in that dayes memory THE ARGVMENT The sonnes of Haman that were slaine Are all hang'd up The Iewes obtaine Freedome to fight the morrow after They put three hundred more to slaughter Sect. 18. WHen as the fame of that dayes bloody newes Came to the King he said Behold the Iewes Have wonne the day and in their just defence Hâ—â—e made their wrong a rightfull recompence Five hundred men in Susan they have staine And that remainder of proud Hamans straine Their hands have rooted out Queene Ester say What further suit wherâ—in Assuerus may Expresse the bounty of his Royall hand Resâ—s in thy bosome What is thy demand Said then the Queene If in thy Princely sight My boone be pleasing or thou take delight To graâ—t thy servants suit Let that Commission Which gave the Iewes this happy dayes permission To save their lives to morrow stand in force For their behalâ—es that onely make recourse To God and thee and let that cursed brood The sonnes of Haman that in guilty blood Lye all ingoar'd unfit to taint a Grave Behang'd on Gibbets and like co-â—eires have Like equall shares of that deserved shame Their wretched father purchas'd in his name 〈◊〉 The King was pleas'd and the Decree was giv'n From Susan where betwixt the earth and Heaven Most undeserving to be own'd by either These cursed ten like twins were borne together When Titan ready for his journall chase Had rouz'd his dewy locks and Rosie face Inricht with morning beauty up arose The Iewes in Susan and their bloody blowes So roughly dealt that in that dismall day A lease of hundreds fell but on the prey No hand was laid so sweet and jolly rest The Iewes enjoy'd and with a solemne Feast Like joyfull Victors dispossest of sorrow They consecrated the ensuing morrow And in the Provinces throughout the Land Before their mighty and victorious hand Fell more than seventy thousand but the prey They seiz'd not and in mem'ry of that day They solemnized their victorious Guests With gifts and triumphs and with holy Feasts Medit. 18. THe Doctrine of the Schoole of Grace dissents From Natures more uncertaine rudiments And are as much contrayr and opposite As Yea and Nay or blacke and purest white For nature teaches first to understand And then beleeve but Grace doth first command Man to beleeve and then to comprehend Faith is of things unknowne and must intend And soare above conceit What we conceive We stand possest of and already have But faith beholds such things as yet we have not Which eye sees not eare heares not heart conceives not Hereon as on her ground-worke our salvation Erects her pillars From this firme foundation Our soules mount up the new Ierusalem To take possession of her Diad eme God loves no sophistry Who argues least In graces Schoole concludes and argues best A womans Logicke passes there For 't is Good proofe to say 'T is so because it is Had Abraham adviz'd with flesh and blood Bad had his faith beene though his reasons good If God bid doe for man to urge a Why Is but in better language a deny The fleshly ballances of our conceits Have neither equall poysure nor just weights To weigh without impeachment Gods designe There 's no proporâ—ion betwixt things Divine And mortall Lively faith may not depend Either upon th' occasion or the end ¶ The glorious Suns reflected beames suffice To lend a luster to the feeblest eyes But if the Eye too covetous of the light Boldly out-face the Sun whose beames so bright And undispers'd are too-too much refin'd For view is it not justly strucken blind I dare not taske stout Samson for his death Nor wandring Ionah that bequeath'd his breath To raging Seas when God commanded so Nor thee great Queene whose lips did overflow With streames of blood nor thee O cruell kind To quench the fâ—er of a womans mind â—ith flowing rivers of thy subjects blood â—rom bad beginnings God creates a good 〈◊〉 happy end What I cannot conceive â—â—â—d let my soule admier and beleeve THE ARGVMENT The Feast of Purim consecrated Th' occasion why 't was celebrated Letters were writ by Mordecai To keepe the mem'ry of that Day Sect. 19. SO Mardocheus throughout all the Land Dispers'd his Letters with a strickt command To celebrate these two dayes memory With Feasts and gifts and yeerely jollity That after ages may record that day And keepe it from the rust of time â— that they Which shall succeed may ground their holy mirth Vpon the joyes those happy dayes brought forth Which chang'd their sadnes and black nights of sorrow Into the brightnesse of a gladsome morrow Whereto the Iews to whom these letters came Gave due observance and did soone proclame Their sacred Festivalls in memory Of that dayes joy and joyfull victory And since the Lots â— that Haman did abuse To know the dismall day which to the Iewes Might fall most fatall and to his intent Least unpropitious â— were in th' event Crost with a higher Fate than blinded Chance To worke his ruine their deliverance They therefore in remembrance of the Lot Whose hop'd-for sad event succeeded not The solemne feasts of Purim did invest And by the name of Purim call'd their Feast Which to observe with sacred Complement And ceremoniall rites their soules indent And firmly ' inroll the happy memory i th' hearts of their succeeding Progeny That time the enemy of mortall things May not with hov'ring of his nimble wings Beat downe the deare memoriall of that time But keepe it flowring in perpetuall prime Now lest this shining day in times progresse Perchance be clouded with forgetfulnesse Or lest the gauled Persians should debate The bloody slaughter and re-ulcerate In after-dayes their former misery And blurre the glory of this dayes memory The Queene and Mordeâ—ai sent Letters out Into the Land dispersed round about To re-confirme and fully ratifie This feast of Purim to eternity That it to after-ages may appeare When sinners bend their hearts heav'n bowes his eare Medit. 19. ANd are the Lawes of God defective then Or was the Paper scant or dull the Pen That wrote those sacred lines Could imperfection Lurk closly there where heav'n hath giv'n direction How comes it then new feasts are celebrated Vnmention'd in the Law and uncreated By him that made the Law compleat and just Not to be chang'd as brain-sicke mortalls lust Is â—ot heavens deepest curse with death
and that on t' other Seed Moves as they move and stayes when as they stay And seemes delighted in their infant-play Yet fearing danger with a busie eye Lookes here and there if ought she can espy Which unawares might snatch a booty from her Eyes all that passe and watches every commer Even so th' affection of this tender Syre B'ing made more fervent with the selfe-same â—â—re Of dearest love which flamed in their brests Preserved as by fuell in those Feasts Was ravisht in the height of joyes to see His happy Childrens ten-fold unity As was his joy such was his holy feare Lest he that plants his Engines every where Baited with golden Sinnes and re-insnares The soule of Man turning his Wheat to Tares Should season Error with the taste of Truth And tempt the frailty of their tender youth No sooner therefore had the dappled skie Opened the Twilight of her waking eye And in her breaking Light had promis'd day But up he rose his holy hands did Iay Vpon the sacred Altar one by one An early Sacrifice for every Sonne For who can tell said he my Sonnes perchance Hâ—ve slipt some sinne which neither Ignorance Pleaded nor want of heed nor youth can cure Sin steales unseene when men sleep most secure Meditat. 1. WAnt is the badge of poverty Then he That wanteth most is the most poore say we The wretch that hunger drives from door to door Aiming at present Almes desires no more The toiling Swaine that hath with pleasing trouble Cockt a small fortune would that fortune double Which dearly bought with slav'ry then alas Hee would be deem'd a Man that 's well to passe Which got his mind 's now tickled with an itch But to deserve that glorious stile of Rich. That done h'enjoyes the crowne of all his labour Could he but once out-nose his right-hand-neighbourâ— Lives he at quiet now Now he begins To wish that Vs'ry were the least of sinnes But great or small he tries and sweet's the trouble And for its sake he wishes all things double Thus wishing still his wishes never cease But as his Wealth his Wishes still encrease Wishes proceed from want The richest then Most wishing want most and are poorest men If he be poore that wanteth much how poore Is he that hath too much and yet wants more Thrice happy he to whom the bounty of heaven Sufficient with a sparing hand hath given 'T is Grace not Gold makes great sever but which The Rich man is but poore the Poore man rich The fairest Crop of either Grasse or Graine Is not for use undew'd with timely raine The wealth of Croesus were it to be given Were not thank-worthy if unblest by Heaven Even as faire Phaebe in Diameter Earth interpos'd betwixt the Sunne and her Suffers Eclips and is disrobed quite During the time of all her borrowed Light So Riches which fond Mortals so embrace If not enlightned with the Beames of Grace B'ing interposed with too grosse a Care They lye obscured and no riches are My stint of Wealth lyes not in my expressing With Iacobs Store Lord give me Iacobs Blessing Or if at night thou grant me Lazars Boone Let Dives Dogs licks all my sores at noone Lord pare my wealth by my Capacity Lest I with it or it suit not with mee This humbly doe I sue for at thy hand Enough and not too much for my command Lord what thou lend'st shall serve but in the place Of reckoning Counters to summe up thy Grace THE ARGVMENT Satan appeares and then professes Himselfe mans Enemy confesses Gods love to Iob malignes his Faith Gaines power over all he hath Sect. 2. VPon a time when heaveÌ„s sweet quire of Saints Whose everlasting Hallelujah chaunts The highest praise of their celestiall King Before their Lord did the presentment bring Of th' execution of his sacred Will Commited to their function to fulfill Satan came too that Satan which betraid The soule of man to Deaths eternall shade Satan came too and in the midst he stands Like to a Vulture 'mongst a herd of Swans Said then th' Eternall From what quarter now Hath businesse brough thee Satan whence com'st thou The Lord of Heaven said th' Infernall since Thou hast intitled me the Worlds great Prince I hâ—ve beene practising mine old profession And come from compassing my large Possession Tempting thy sonnes and like a roaring Lion Seeking my prey disturbe the peace of Sion I come from sâ—wing Tares among thy Wheat To him that shall dissemble Peters seat I have beene plotting how to prompt the death Of Christian Princes and the bribed breath Of cheapned Iustice hath my fire inflam'd With spirit of boldnesse for a while unsham'd I come from planting strife and sterne debate 'Twixt private man and man 'twixt State and State Subverting Truth with all the power I can Accusing Man to God and God to Man I daily sâ—w fresh Schismes among thy Saints I buffet them and laugh at their complaints The Earth is my Dominion Hell 's my Home I round the World and so from thence I come Said then th' Eternall True thou hast not fail'd Of what thou say'st thy spirit hath prevail'd To vexe my little Flocke Thou hast beene bold To make them stray a little from their Fold Bâ—t say In all thy hard Adventures hath Thine eye observed Iob my Servants faith Hath open force or secret fraud beset His Bulwarkes so impregnable as yet And hast thou without envy yet beheld How that the World his second cannot yeeld Hast thou not found that he 's of upright will Iust fearing God â—schewing what is ill True Lord reply'd the Fiend thy Champion â—â—th A strong and fervent yet a crafty Faith A forced love needs no such great applause He loves but ill that loves not for a cause Hast thou not heap'd his Garners with excesse Inricht his Pastures Doth not he possesse All that he hath or can demand from Thee His Coffers fill'd his Land stock'd plenteouâ—â—y Hath not thy love surrounded him about â—And â—edg'd him in to fence my practice out But small 's the triall of a Faith in this â—f thou suppâ—rt him t is thy strength not hisâ— Can then my power that stands by thy permission Encounter where Thou mak'st an Opposition Stretch forth thy Hand and smite 〈◊〉 what he hath And prove thou then the temper of his Faith Cease cock'ring his fond humour veile thy Grace No doubt but he 'll blaspheme thee to thy fâ—â—c Lâ—e said th' Eternall to thy cursed hand I â—ere commit his mighty Stocke his Land His hopefull Issue and Wealth though nere so much Himselfe alone thou shalt forbeare to touch Medita 2. SAâ—an beg'd once and found his pray'rs reward We often beg yet oft returne unheard If granting be th' effect of love then we Conclude our selves to be lesse lov'd than hee True Satan beg'd and beg'd his shame no lesse 'T was granted shall we envie his successe We beg and our request 's perchance not granted
God knew perhaps it were worse had than wanted Can God and Belial both joyne in one will The one to aske the other to fulfill Sooner shall Stygian darknesse blend with light The Frost with Fier sooner day with Night True God and Satan will'd the selfe-same Will But God intended Good and Satan Ill That Will produc'd a severall conclusion He aim'd at Mans and God at his confusion He that drew Light from out the depth of Shade And made of Nothing whatsoe're he made â—an out of seeming Evill bring good Events God worketh Good though by ill Instruments As in a Clocke one motion doth convay And carry divers wheeles a severall way Yet altogether by the great wheeles force Direct the hand unto his proper course Even so that sacred Will although it use Meanes seeming contrary yet all conduce To one effect and in a free consent They bring to passe heavens high decreed intent Takes God delight in humane weaknesse then What glory reapes he from afflicted men The Spirit gone can Flesh and Blood indure God burnes his Gold to make his Gold more pure Even as a Nurse whose childe 's imperfect pace Can hardly leade his foote from place to place Leaves her fond kissing sets him downe to goe Nor does uphold him for a step or two But when she findes that he begins to fall She holds him up and kisses him withall So God from man sometimes withdrawes his hand A while to teach his Infant faith to stand But when he sees his feeble strength begin To faile he gently takes him up againe Lord I 'm a childe so guide my paces than That I may learne to walke an upright man So shield my Faith that I may never doubt thee For I shall fall if e're I walke without thee THE ARGVMENT The frighted Mâ—ssengers tell Iob His foure-fold losse He rends his Roâ—e Submits him to his Makers trust Whom he concludeth to be just Sect. 3. VPon that very day when all the rest Were frollicke at their elder Brothers feaâ—t A breathlesse man prickt on with winged feare With staring eyes distracted here and there Like kindled Exhalations in the Aire At midnight glowing his stiffe-bolting haire Not much unlike the pennes of Porcupines Crossing his armes and making wofull signes Purboyl'd in sweat shaking his fearfull head That often lookt behinde him as he fled He ran to Iob still ne'rethelesse afraid His broken blast breath'd forth these words said Alas deare Lord the whiles thy servants ply'd Thy painfull Plough and whilest on every side Thy Asses fed about us as we wrought There sallyed forth on us suspecting nought Nor ought intending but our cheerfull paine A rout of rude Sabaeans with their Traine Armed with death and deafe to all our Cries Which with strong Hand did in an houre suprize All that thou hadst and whilest we strove in vaine To guard them their impartiall hands have slaine Thy faithfull Servants with their thirâ—ty Sword I onely scap't to bring this wofull word No sooner had he clos'd his lips but see Another comes as much agast as he A â—lash of fire said he new falne from heaven Hath all thy servants of their lives bereaven And burnt thy Sheâ—pe I I alone am he That 's left unslaine to bring the newes to thee This Tale not fully told a third ensues Whose lips in labour with more heavy Newes Brake thus The forces of a triple Band Brought from the fiâ—rce Caldaeans with strong haÌ„d Hath seiz'd thy Camels murther'd with the sword Thy servants all but me that brings thee word Before the aire had cool'd his hasty breath Rusht in a fourth with visage pale as Death The while said he thy children all were sharing Mirth at a feast of thy first Sonnes preparing Arose a Winde whose errand had more hast Than happy speed which with a full-mouth blast Hath smote the house which hath thy children reft Of all their lives and thou art childlesse left Thy children all are slaine all slaine together I onely scap't to bring the tidings hither So said Behold the man whose wealth did flow Like to a Spring-tide one bare houre agoe With the unpattern'd height of fortunes blest Above the greatest Dweller in the East He that was Syre of many sonnes but now Lord of much people and while-e're could show Such Herds of Cattell He whose fleecy stocke Of Sheepe could boast seven thousand in a flocke See how he lies of all his wealth dispoil'd He now hath neither Servant Sheepe nor Childe Like a poore man arose the patient Iob Stun'd with the newes and rent his purple Robe Shaved the haire from off his wofull head And prostrate on the floore he worshipped Naked ah Poore and naked did I come Fâ—rth from the closet of my mothers wombe And shall returne alas the very same To th' earth as poore and naked as I came God gives and takes and why should He not have A priviledge to take those things he gave We men mistake our Tenure oft for He Lends us at will what we miscall as Free He reassumes his owne takes but the same He lent a while Thrice blessed be his Name In all this passage Iob in heart nor Tongue Thought God unjust or charg'd his hand with wrong Medita 3. THe proudest pitch of that victorious spirit Was but to win the World whereby t'inheritâ— The ayrie purchase of a transitory And glozing Title of an ages Glory Would'st thou by conquest win more fame thaÌ„ He Subdue thy selfe thy selfe's a world to thee Earth's but a Ball that Heaven hath quilted o're With wealth and Honour banded on the floore Of fickle Fortunes false and slippery Court Sent for a Toy to make us Children sport Mans satiate spirits with fresh delights supplying To still the Fondlings of the world from crying And he whose merit mounts to such a Ioy Gaines but the Honour of a mighty Toy But would'st thou conquer have thy conquest crown'd By hands of Seraphins trimph'd with the sound Of heavens loud Trumpet warbled by the shrill Celestiall quire recorded with a quill Pluckt from the Pinion of an Angels wing Confirm'd with joy by heavens Eternall King Conquer thy selfe thy rebell thoughts repell And chase those false affections that rebell Hath Heaven dispoil'd what his full hand had giveÌ„ thee Nipt thy succeeding Blossomes or bereaven thee Of thy deare latest hope thy bosome Friend Doth sad Despaire deny these griefes an end Despair's a whispring Rebell that within thee Bribes all thy Field and sets thy selfe agin thee Make keene thy Faith and with thy force let flee If thou not conquer him hee 'll conquer thee Advance thy Shield of Patience to thy head And wheÌ„ griefe strikes t will strike the striker deadâ— The patient man in sorrow spies reliefe And by the taile he couples Ioy with Griefe In adverse fortunes be thou strong and stout And bravely win thy selfe Heaven holds not out His Bow for ever bent The disposition Of noblest spirits doth by
Shal blaze his shame and Earth shall stand his foe His wandring Children shall no dwelling know Behold the mans estate whom God denyes Behold thine owne pourtraicted to thine Eyes Meditat. 12. CAn mercy come from bloody Câ—in Or hath His angry Brow a smile or can his wrath Be quencht with ought but righteous Abels blood Can guilty Pris'ners hope for any good From the severer Iudge whose dismall breath Dooms them to die breaths nothing else but death Ah righteous Iudge wherein hath Man to trust Man hath offended and thy Lawes are just Thou frownest like a Iudge but I had rather That thou would'st smile upon me like a Father What if thy Esau be austere and rough Thou hast a Iacob that is smooth enough Thy Iacobs tender Kid brings forth a blessing While Esaus tedious Ven'zon is a dressing Thy face hath smiles as well as frownes by turnes Thy fier giveth light as well as burnes What if the Serpent stung old Adam dead Young Adam lives to breake that Serpents head Iustice hath struck me with a bleeding wound But Mercy poures in Oyle to make it sound The milk-white Lamb confounds the roaring Lion Blasted by Sinah I am heal'd by Sion The Law finds guilty and Death Iudgement gives But sure I am that my Redeemer lives How wretched was mans case in those dark dayes When Law was only read Which Law dismayes And taking vantage through the breach of it The Letter kills and can no way admit Release by pardon for by Law we dye Why then hop'd man without a reason Why Although there was no Sun their Morning eyes Saw by the Twilight that the Sun would rise The Law was like a mistie Looking-Glasse Wherein the shadow of a Saviour was Treats in a darker straine by Types and Signes And what should passe in after-dayes divines The Gospell sayes that he is come and dead And thus the Riddle of the Law is read Gospell is Law the Myst'ry being seal'd And Law is Gospell being once reveal'd Experience tells us when as birth denyes To man through Natures oversight his eyes Nature whose curious workes are never vaine Supplyes them in the power of his Braine So they whose eyes were barr'd that glorious sight Of the Messiah's day receiv'd more Light Inspired by the breath of Heaven then they That heard the tydings of that happy day The man that with a sharpe contracted eye Lookes in a cleere Perspective-Glasse doth spiâ— Objects remote which to the sense appeare Through help of the Perspective seeming neere So they that liv'd within the Lawes Dominion Did heare farre off a bruit and buzz'd Opinion A Saviour one day should be borne but he That had a Perspective of Faith might see That long-expected day of joy as cleere As if the triumph had beene then kept there Lord so direct me in thy perfect Way That I may looke and smile upon that Day O! bathe me in his blood spunge every staine That I may boldly sue my Counter-paine O! make me glorious in the doome he gives For sure I am that my Redeemer lives THE ARGVMENT Earths happinesse is not Heavens brand A rash recounting of Iob's crimes Iob trusts him to th' Almighties hand God ties his Iudgements not to Times Sect. 31. THen Iob replyde O let your patience prove You came not to afflict me but in Love O! beare with me and heare me speake at leysure My speech once ended mock scoffe your pleasure Myst'ries I treat not Toyes If then I range A thought beyond my selfe it is not strange Behold my case and stand amaz'd forbeare me Be still and in your deeper silence heare me Search you the hearts of men my Friends or can You judge the Inward by the Outward Man How haps the wicked then so sound in health So ripe in yeeres so prosperous in wealth They multiply their house is fill'd with Peace They passe unplagu'd their fruitfull flocks increase Their children thrive in joyfull melody Prosperous they live and peacefully they dye Renounce us God say they if God there be What need we knowledge of thy Word or Thee What is th' Almighty that we should adore him What hoots our prayer or us to fall before him 'T is not by chance their vaine Prosperity Crownes them with store or Heav'n not knowing why But you affirme That in conclusion they Shall fall But not so sudden as you say But can ye limit forth the space confine How long or when their lamps shal cease to shine Will any of you undertake to teach Your Maker things so farre above your reach The bad man lives in plenty dyes in peace The good as doe his houres his griefes increase Yet both the good and bad alike shall haue Though lives much differing yet one coÌ„mon grave I know your mining thoughts You will demand Where is the wickeds power And where stand Their lofâ—y buildings Are they to be seene Enquire of wandring Pilgrims that have beene Experienc'd in the Roade and they ' lrelate The Princely greatnesse of their Towâ—'s and State Live any more secure then they Or who Dare once reprove them for the deeds thy doe He lives in power and in peace he dyes Attended in his pompeous Obsequies How vaine are then the comforts of your breath That censure goodnesse or by Life or Death Said Eliphâ—z What then remaines Thy tongue Hath quit thy selfe accus'd thy God of wrong Gaines he by mans uprightnesse Can man adde To his perfection what he never had Fears he the strength of Man doth he torment him Lest that his untam'd power should prevent him What need I wast this breath Recall thy senses And take the Inventory of thy ' offences Thou tookst the poore mans Pawne nor hast thou fed Thy needy Brother with thy prosp'rous Bread Thy hands perverted Iustice and have spoyl'd The hopelesse Widow with her helplesse child Hence spring thy sorrowes Iob 'T is Iustice then Thou shouldst-bee plagu'd that thus plagu'd other men Is heaven just Can heavens just Creator Let passe unpunisht Sinnes of so high nature Hath not experience taught that for a while The Wicked may exalt their Crests and smile Blowne up with Insolence But in conclusion They fall and good men laugh at their confusion Iob adde not sinne to sinne cease to beguile Thy selfe thinking to quench thy fire with Oyle Returne thee to thy God confesse thy crimes Returne and he will crowne thy after times With former Blessings and thy Riches shall Be as the Sand for God is all in all His face shall welcome thee and smile upon thee And cease that mischief his just haÌ„d hath done thee He shall be pleased with thy holy Fires And grant the issue of thy best Desires Iob answer'd then Although my soule be faint And griefes weigh down the scale of my complaint Yet would I plead my cause which you defam'd Before my Maker and would plead unsham'd Could I but find him I would take upon me To quite the censures you have
passed on me His Iustice hath no limits is extended Beyond conceit by man vnapprehended Let Heaven be Vmpire and make Arbitration Betwixt my guiltlesse heart and your taxaâ—ion My Embrion thoughts and words are all inroll'd Pure will he find them as refined Gold His steps I followed and uprightly stood His Lawes have been my guide his words my food Hath he but once decreed alas there 's none Can barre for what he wills must needs be done His Will 's a Law If he have doom'd that I Shall still be plagu'd 't is bootlesse to reply Hence comes it that my sore afflicted spright Trembles and stands confounded at his sight His hand hath strucke my spirits in a maze For I can neither end my Griefes nor dayes Why should not times in all things be forbid When to the just their time of sorrow 's hid Some move their Land marks rob their neighbour flocks Others in gage receive the widowes oxe Some grind the poore while others seeke the prey They reape their Harvest beare their graine away Men presse their Oyle they distraine their store And rend the Gleanings from the hungry poore The City roares the blood which they have spent Cryes unreveng'd for equall punishment Early they murther and rob late at night They trade in Darknesse for they hate the Light They sin unpunisht thriving uncontrold And what by force they got by force they hold O friends repeale your words your speeches bring No lawfull issue prove not any thing Your deeper wisedomes argue in effect That God doth or not know or else neglect Conclude with me or prove my words untrue I must be found the lyar or else you Meditat. 13. THe wisest men that Nature ere could boast For secret knowledge of her power were loâ—t Confounded and in deepe amazement stood In the discovery of the Chiefest Good Keenly they hunted beat in every bracke Forwards they went on either hand and backe Return'd they counter but their deep-mouth'd art Thogh often challeng'd sent yet ne're could start In all th' Enclosures of Philosophy That Game from squat they terme Felicity They jangle and their Maximes disagree As many men so many mindes there be One digs to Pluto's Throne thinks there to finde Her Grace rak't up in Gold anothers mind Mounts to the Courts of Kings with plumes of honor And feather'd hopes hopes there to seize upon her A third unlocks the painted Gate of Pleasure And ransacks there to finde this peerlesse Treasure A fourth more sage more wisely melancholy Perswades himselfe her Deity 's too holy For common hands to touch he rather chuses To make a long dayes journey to the Muses To Athens gown'd he goes and from that Schoole Returnes unsped a more instructed foole Where lyes she then Or lyes she any where Honours are bought and sold she rests not there Much lesse in Pleasures hath she her abiding For they are shar'd to Beasts and ever sliding Nor yet in Vertue Vertue 's often poore And crusht with fortune begs from doore to door Nor is she sainted in the Shrine of wealth That makes men slaves is unsecur'd from stealth Conclude we then Felicity confists Not in exteriour Fortunes but her lists Are boundlesse and her large extension Out-runnes the pace of humane apprehension Fortunes are seldome measur'd by desert The fairer face hath oft the fouler heart Sacred Felicity doth ne're extend Beyond it selfe In it all wishes end The swelling of an outward Fortune can Create a prosp'rous not a happy man A peacefull Conscience is the true Content And Wealth is but her golden Ornament I care not so my Kernell relish well How slender be the substance of my shell My heart bâ—ing vertuous let my face be wan I am to God I onely seeme to man THE ARGVMENT Bildad showes mans impurity Iob seâ—teth forth th' Almighties power Pleads still his owne integrity Gods Wisedome no man can discover Sect. 14. SAid Bildad then With whom dost thou contest But with thy Maker that lives ever blest His pow'r is infinite mans light is dimme And knowledge darknesse not deriv'd from him Say then who can be just before him No man Can challenge Purity that 's borne of Woman The greater Torch of heaven in his sight Shall be asham'd and lose his purer light Much lesse can man that is but living Dust And but a â—airer Worme be pure and just Whereat Iob thus Doth heav'ns high judgement stand To be supported by thy weaker hand Wants he thy helpe To whom dost thou extend These these thy lavish lips and to what end No Hee 's Almighty and his Power doth give Each thing his Being and by him they live To him is nothing darke his soveraigne hands Whirle round the restless Orbs his pow'r coÌ„mands The evenâ—pois'd Earth The water-pots of heaven He empties at his pleasure and hath given Appointed lists to keepe the Waters under The trembling skies he strikes amaz'd with thuÌ„der These these the Trophies of his Power be Where is there e're a such a God as He My friends these eares have heard your censures on me And heaveÌ„s sharp haÌ„d doth waigh so hard upon me So languishing in griefe that no defence Seemes to remaine to shield my Innocence Yet while my soule a gaspe of breath affords I 'le not distrust my Maker nor your words Deserve which heaven foâ—fend that ever I Prove true but I 'le plead guiltlesse till I dye While I have breath my pangs shal ne're perswade me To wander and revolt from Him that made me E're such thoughts spring from this confused breâ—t Let death and tortures doe their worst their best What gaines the Hypocrite although the whole Worlds wealth he purchase with the prize on 's soule Will heaven heare the voice of his disease Can he repent and turne when e're he please True God doth sometime plague with open shame The wicked often blurres he forth his Name From out the earth his children shall be slaine And who survive shall beg their bread in vaine What if his gold be heapt the good man shall Possesse it as true Master of it all Like Moths their houses shall they build in doubt And danger every houre to be cast out Besieg'd wiâ—h want their lips make fruitlesse mone Yet wanting succour be reliev'd by none The worme of Conscience shall torment his brest And he shall rore when others be at rest Gods hand shall scourge him that he cannot flie And men shall laugh and hisse to heare him cry The purest metal 's hid within the mould Without is gravell but within is Gold Man digs and in his toile he takes a pleasure He seekes and findes within the turfe the treasure He never rests unsped but underneath He mines and progs though in the fangs of death No secret how obscure soever can Earths bosome smother that 's unfuond by man But the Divine and high Decrees of Heaven What minde can search into No power 's given To mortall man whereby he may
not doe What then is man but Nothing being Evill His Lunatike affections doe unlevell What Heaven created by just Waight and measure In pleasures sinke he takes a swine like Pleasure His span of life and beauties like a Flower Faire flourishing and fading in an hower He breakes into the world with teares and then Departs with Griefe not knowing how nor when His life 's a Bubble full of seeming Blisse The more it lengthens the more short it is Begot in darknesse he 's brought forth and cries For succour passes ore the stage and dyes Yet like a Moale the earth he undermines Making the World the Forge of his designes He plots complots for esees prevents directs Hee hopes he feares he doubts pursues effects Each hath his plot each one his course doth bend Each hath his project and each one his end Thus restlesse man doth still his soule molest To finde out that which hath no being Rest Thus travels sinfull man in endlesse toyle Taking a pleasure in his owne turmoyle Fond man first seeke to purchase that divine And sacred prize and all the world is thine Great Salomon made suit for Wisdome and he found Not barely Wisdome but that Wisdome crown'd With Diadems of wealth and faire encrease Of Princely Honour with long dayes of Peace With safe respect and awfull reverence To Myst'ries Meditation doth commence An earnest doubt Was Iobs dispoiled Flock Restored double Was his former Stock Renew'd with double vantage Did heaven adde To all his fortunes double what he had Yet those sweet Emblemes of his dearest love His sonnes whom death untimely did remove From off the face of the unthankfull earth Why likewise sprang not they in double birth Bruit beasts that perish once are lost for ever Their substance and their All consumes together Once having given a farewell to the light They dye and with them is perpetuall night But man unorgan'd by the hand of Death Dyes not is but transplanted from beneath Into a fairer soyle or as a stranger Brought home secure from the worlds pleasing danger Iobs flocks were lost and therefore double given His Issue 's equall shar'd 'twixt Earth and Heaven One halfe in heav'n are glorious in their doome Ingag'd as Pledges till the other come Great God! my Time 's but short and long my way My Heart hath lost her Path and gone astray My spirit 's faint and fraile my soule 's imbost If thou helpe not I am for ever lost Though Dust and Ashes yet I am thy Creature Howe're my sinnes are great thy Mercie 's greater Of nothing didst thou make me and my sinne Hath turn'd me back to nothing once agin Create me a new heart great God inspire My cold affections with thy sacred fire Instruct my Will and rectifie my Wayes O teach me Lord to number out my Dayes The Digestion of the whole HISTORY 1 In Prosperity THou whose lank fortunes heav'n hath swel'd with store Make not thy selfe by over-wishing poore Husband that good which else abuse makes bad Abstracting where thy base desire would adde Lines flowing from a Sophoclean quill Deserve no Plaudit being acted ill 2 In Adversity Hath heav'n withdrawn the talent he hath giv'n thee Hath envious Death of all thy Sons bereaven thee Have soule Diseases foil'd thee on the floore He earnes no sweet that never tasted sowre Thou art a Scholler if thy Tutor doe Pose thee too hard he will instruct thee too 3 In Tentation Art thou oppos'd to thine unequall Foe March bravely on thy Gen'rall bids thee goe Thou art heav'ns Champion to maintain his right Who cals thee forth wil give thee strength to fight God seekes by conquest thy renowne for He Will win enough Fight thou or Faint or Flee 4 In Slander If Winter fortunes nip thy Summer Friends And tip their tongues with Censure that offends Thy tender Name despaire not but be wise Know Heaven selecteth whom the world denies Thou hast a milke-white Thisâ—y that's within 〈◊〉 Will take thy part when all the world's â—giâ— thee 5 In Re-advancement Art thou advanc'd to thy supreme desier Be still the same Feare Lower aime no higher Mans Play hath many Sceanes but in the last Heaven knits up all to sweeten all that 's past Affliction is a Rod to scourge us home An 'a painfull earnest of a Heaven to come The end THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER for I. MARRIOTT in S. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street 1632. To the READER THe tyranny of my affaires was never yet so imperious but I could steale some howers to my private Meditations the fruits of which stolne time I here present thee with in the History of Samson Wherein if thy extreme severity check at any thing which thou conceivest may not stand with the Majesty of this sacred Subject know that my intention was not to offend my brother The wisest of Kings inspired by the King of Wisdome thought it no detraction from the gravity of his Holy Proverbs to describe a Harlot like a Harlot Her whorish Attire her immodest Gesture her bold Countenance her flattering Tongue her lascivious Embraces her unchast Kisses her impudent Invitations If my descriptions in the like kinde offend I make no question but the validitie of my Warrant will give a reasonable satisfaction He that lifts not his feet high enough may easily stumble But on the contrary if any be whose worse then sacrilegious minds shall prophane our harmles intentions with wanton conceits to such I heartily wish a Procul Ite Let none such looke farther then this Epistle at their own perils If they doe let them put off their shoos for this is holy Ground Foule hands will muddle the clearest waters base minds will corrupt the purest Text If any offence be taken it is by way of stealth for there is none willingly given I write to Bees and not to Spiders They will sucke pleasing honey from such flowers These may burst with their owne poyson But you whose well-seasond hearts are not distempered with either of these extremities but have the better relish of a Sacred understanding draw neere and reade I Sing th' illustrious and renowned Story Of mighty Samson The eternall glory Of his Heroicke acts His life His death Quicken my Muse with thy diviner breath Great God of Muses that my prosp'rous Riâ—es May live and last to everlasting times That they unborne may in this sacred Story Admire thy goodnes and advance thy glory THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON THE ARGVMENT A holy Angell doth salute The wife of Manoah and inlarge Her barren wombe with promis'd fruit Of both their loynes The Angles charge Sect. 1. WIthin the Tents of Zorah dwelt a man Of Iacobs seed and of the Tribe of Dâ—n Knowne by the name of Maenoah to whom Heaven had deny'd the treasure of the wombe His Wife was barren And her prayers could not Remove that great reproach or clense that blot Which on her fruitlesse name appear'd
so foule Not to encrease the Tribe of Dan one soule LoÌ„g had she doubtles stroven with heaveÌ„ by prair's Made strong with teares sighs hopes despaires No doubt had often tortur'd her desire Vpon a Rack compos'd of frost and fire But Heaven was pleas'd to turne his deafned eares Against those prai'rs made stroÌ„g with sighs tears She often pray'd but pray'rs could not obtaine Alas she pray'd she wept she sigh'd in vaine She pray'd no doubt but pray'rs could finde no roome They prov'd alas as barren as her wombe Vpon a time when her unanswer'd pray'r Had now given just occasion of despaiâ—e Even when her bed-rid faith was grown so fraile That very Hope grew hartlesse to prevaile Appear'd an Angel to her In his face Terrour and sweetnesse labour'd for the place Sometimes his Sunbright eies would shine so fierce As if their pointed beames would even pierce Her soule and strike th' amaz'd beholder dead Sometimes their glory would disperse and spread More easie flames and like the Starre that stood O're Bethlem promise and portend some good Mixt was his bright aspect as if his breath Had equall errands both of life and death Glory and Mildnesse seemed to contend In his faire eyes so long till in the end In glorious mildnesse and in milder glory He thus salutes her with this pleasing story Woman Heaven greets thee well Rise up and feare 〈◊〉 Forbeare thy faithlesse tremblings I appeare not Clad in the vestments of consuming fire Cheare up I have no warrant to enquire Into thy sinnes I have no Vyals here Nor dreadfull Thunderbolts to make thee feare I have no plagues t' inflict nor is my breath Charg'd with destruction 〈◊〉 my hand with death No no cheare up I come not to destroy I come to bring thee tidings of great joy Rowze up thy duâ— beliefeâ— for I apâ—eare To exercise thy Faith and not thy Feare The Gâ—iae and great Creator of all things Chiefe Lord of Lords and supreme King of Kings To whom an Host of men are but a swarme Of â—urm'â—ing Guats whose high prevailing arme Can crush ten thousand worldâ— and at one blow Can strike the earth to nothing and ore-throw The Lofts of Heaven He that hath the Keyes Of 〈◊〉 to shut and ope them when he please He that can all things that he will this day Is pleas'd to take thy long reproach away Behold thy womb 's inlarg'd and thy desires Shall finde successe Before long time expires Thou shâ—lâ— conceive Ere twise five months be runne Be thou the joyfull mother of a sonne But see thy wary palate doe forbeare The juice of the bewitching Grape Beware Leâ—â— thy defiers tempt thy lips to wine Which must be faithfull strangers to the Vine Strong drinke thou must not taste and all such meate The Law proclaimes uncleane refraine to eate And when the fruit of thy restored wombe Sâ—â—ll see the light take heed no Rasor come 〈◊〉 his fruitfull head for from his birth 〈◊〉 as the wombe entrusts him on the earth The child shall be a Nazarite to God 〈◊〉 whose appointment be shall prove a Rod To scourge the proud Philistians and recall Pâ—re suffring Israel from their slavish thrall Meditat. 2. HOw impudent is Nature to account Those acts her own that doe so farre surmoâ—â—â— Her easie reach How purblinde are those eyes Of stupid mortals that have power to rise No higher then her lawes who takes upon her The worke and robs the Author of his honour Seest thou the fruitfull Wombe How every yeare It moves thy Cradle to thy slender cheare Invites another Ghest and makes thee Father To a new Sonne who now perchance hadst rather Bring up the old esteeming propagation A thanklesse worke of Supererogation Perchance the formall Mid-wife seemes to thee Lesse welcome now than she was wont to bee Thou standst amaz'd to heare such needlesse Ioy And car'st as little for it as the Boy That 's newly borne into the world Nay worse Perchance thou grumblest counting it a curse Vnto thy faint estate which is not able T' encrease the bounty of thy slender Table Poore miserable man what ere thou bee I suffer for thy crooked thoughts not thee Thou tak'st thy children to be gifts of nature Their wit their flowring beauty comely stature Their perfect health their dainty disposition Their vertues and their easie acquisition Of curious Arts their strengths attain'd perfection You attribute to that benigne complexion Wherewith your Goddesse Nature hath endow'd Their well-disposed Organs and are proud And here your Goddesse leaves you to deplore That such admir'd perfections should be poore Advance thine eyes no lesse then wilfull blinde And with thine eyes advance thy drooping minde Correct thy thoughts Let not thy wondring eye Adore the servant when the Master 's by Looke on the God of Nature From him come These underprized blessings of the wombe He makes thee rich in childreÌ„ wheÌ„ his store Crowns thee with wealth why mak'st thou thy self poor He opes the womb why then should'st thou repine They are his children mortall and not thine We are but Keepers And the more he lends To our tuition he the more commends Our faithfull trust It is not every one Deserves that honour to command his Son She counts it as a fortune that 's allow'd To nurse a Prince What nurse would not be proud Of such a Fortune And shall we repine Great God to foster any Babe of thine But 't is the Charge we feare our stock 's but small If heaven with Children send us wherewithall To stop their craving stomacks then we care not Great God! How hast thou crackt thy credit that we dare Trust thee for bread How is 't we dare not venture To keepe thy Babes unlesse thou please to enter In bond for paiment Art thou growne so poore To leave thy famisht Infants at our doore And not allow them food Canst thou supply The empty Ravens and let thy children die Send me that stint thy wisedome shall thinke fie Thy pleasure is my will and I submit Make me deserve that honour thou hast lent To my fraile trust and I will rest content THE ARGVMENTâ— Thâ— wife â— Manoah attended with fearfull Hope and hâ—pefull Feare The joyfull tydings recommended to her amazed Husbands care Sect. 2. THus when the great Embassadour of Heaven Had done that sacred service which was given And trusted to his faithfull charge he spred His ayre dividing pinions and fled But now th' affrighted woman apprehends The strangenesse of the Message recommends Both it and him that did it to her feares The newes was welcome to her gratefull eares But what the newesman was did so encreaâ—e Her doubts that her strange hopes could finde no peace For when her hopes would build a Tower of joy O then her feares would shake it and destroy The maine foundation what her hopes in vaine Did raise her feares would ruinate againe One while she thought It was an Angel sent And then
makes His God of counsell where he undertakes How is our God and wee of late falne out We rather chuse to languish in our doubt Then be resolv'd by him We rather use The helpe of hell-bred wizzards that abuse The stile of wise menâ— then to have recourse To him that is the Fountaine and the sourse Of all good Counsels and from whom proceeds A living Spring to water all our needs How willing are his Angels to descend From off their throne of Glory and attend Vpon our wants How oft returne they back Mourning to heaven as if they griev'd for lack Of our imployment O how prone are they To be assistant to us every way Have wee just cause to joy They 'll come and sing About our beds Does any judgement bring Iust cause of griefe they 'll fall a grieving too Doe we triumph their joyfull mouthes will blow Their louder Trumpets Or doe feares affect us They 'l guard our heads from danger protect us Are we in prison or in Persecution They 'l fill our hearts with joy and resolution Or doe we languish in our sickly beds They 'l come pitch their Tents about our heads See they a sinner penitent and mourne For his bewail'd offences and returne They clap their hands and joyne their warbling voyces They sing and all the Quire of Heaven rejoyces What is in us poore Dust and Ashes Lord That thou should'st looke upon us and afford Thy precious favours to us and impart Thy gracious Counsels what is our desert But Death and Horror What can we more clame Then they that now are scorching in that flame That hath nor moderation rest nor end How does thy mercy above thought extend To theÌ„ thou lov'st Teach me great God to prize Thy sacred Counsels open my blinde eyes That I may see to walke the perfect way For as I am Lord I am apt to stray And wander to the gulph of endlesse woe Teach me what must be done and helpe to doe THE ARGVMENT Manoah desires to understand but is deny'd the Angels name He offers by the Angels hand the Angel vanishes in a flame Sect. 5. SO said The sonne of Israel easly apt To credit what his soule desir'd and rapt With better hepes which serv'd him as a guide To his beliefe o'rejoy'd he thus replide Let not the man of God whose Heavenly voyce Hath blest mine eare and made my soule rejoyce Beyond expression now refuse to come Within my Tent and honour my poore home With his desired presence there to taste His servants slender diet and repast Vpon his Rurall fare These hands shall take A tender Kidde from out the flockes and make Without long tarriance some delighfull meate Which may invite the man of God to eate Come come my Lord and what defect of food Shall be thy servants welcome shall make good Whereto the Angel who as yet had made Himselfe unknowne reanswer'd thus and said Excuse me Though thy hospitable love Prevaile to make me stay it cannot move My thankfull lips to taste thy liberall cheare Let not thy bounty urge in vaine Forbeare To strive with whom thy welcome cannot leade To eate thy Kid or tast thy profer'd bread Convert thy bounty to a better end And let thy undefiled hands commend A burnt oblation to the King of Kings 'T is he deserves the thanks his servant brings But that bare message which his lips enjoyne His be the glory of the Act not mine Said then the Israelite If my desire Be not too over-rash but may conspire With thy good pleasure let thy servants eare Be honourd with thy name that whensoere These blessed tidings that possesse my heart With firme beleefe shall in due time impart Their full perfection and desir'd successe To my expecting eye my soule may blesse The tongue that brought the message and proclaime An equall honour to his honour'd name To whom the Angell whose severer brow Sent forth a frowne made answere Doe not thou Trouble thy busie thoughts with things that are Above thy reach Enquier not too farre My name is cloath'd in mists 'T is not my taske To make it knowne to thee nor thine to aske With that the Danite tooke a tender Kid And said my Lord The Tribe of Dan's forbid To burne an offering Onely Levites may And holy Prophets If thou please to lay The sacrifice on yonder sacred Stone I 'le fetch thee fire for fier there is none Forheare thy needlesse paines the Angell said Heaven will supply that want With that he laid The offering on and from the stone there came A sudden fire whose high ascending flame Burnt and consum'd th'accepted Sacrifice Now whilst th' amaz'd beholders wondring eyes Were taken Captives with so strange a sight And whilst the new-wrought miracle did affright Their treÌ„bling harts the Man of God whose name Must not b'inquired vanisht in the flame And left them both unable to expound Each others feares both groveling on the ground Meditat. 5. A Thankfull heart hath earnd one favour twice But he that is ungratefull wants no vice The beast that onely lives the life of Sense Prone to his severall actions and propense To what he does without th' advice of will Guided by nature that does nothing ill In practicke Maximes proves it a thing hatefull T' accept a Favoâ—r and to live ungratefull But man whose more diviner soule hath gain'd A higher step to reason nay attain'd A higher step then that the light of grace Comes short of them and in that point more base Then they most prompt and perfect in that rude Vnnaturall and high sinne Ingratitude The Stall-fed Oxe that is growne fat will know His carefull feeder and acknowledge too The prouder Stallion will at length espie His Masters bounty in his Keepers eye The ayre-dividing Faulkon will requite Her Faulkners paines with a well pleasing flight The generous Spaniell loves his Masters eye And licks his fingers though no meate be by But Man ungratefull Man that 's borne and bred By Heavens immediate pow'r maiâ—tain'd and fed By his providing hand observ'd attended By his indulgent grace preserv'd defended By his prevailing arme this Man I say Is more ungratefull more obdure than they By him we live and move from him we have What blessings he can give or we can crave Food for our hunger Dainties for our pleasure Trades for our buisnes Pastimes for our leasure In griefe he is our Ioy in want our Wealth In bondage Freedome and in sicknesse Health In peace our Counsell and in warre our Leader At Sea our Pilot and in Suites our Pleader In paine our Helpe in Triumph our Renowne In life our Comfort and in death our Crowne Yet Man O most ungratefull Man can ever Enjoy the Gift but never mindâ— the Giver And like the Swine though pamper'd with enough His eyes are never higher than the Trough We still receive our hearts we seldome lift To heaven but drowne the giver in the Gift We taste the
Skollops and returne the Shels Our sweet Pomgranats want their silver Bells We take the Gift the hand that did present it We oft reward forget the Friend that sent it A blessing given to those will not disburse Some thanks is little better then a curse Great giver of all blessings thou that art The Lord of Gifts give me a gratefull heart O give me that or keepe thy favours from me I wish no blessings with a Vengeance to me THE ARGVMENT Affrighted Manoah and his Wife Both prostrate on the naked earth Both rise The man despaires of life The woman cheares him Samsons birth Sect. 6. WHen time whose progresse mod'rates and out weares Th' extreamest passions of the highest fears By his benignant power had re-inlarg'd Their captive senses and at length discharg'd Their frighted thoughts the trembling couple rose From their unquiet and disturb'd repose Have you beheld a Tempest how the waves Whose unresisted Tyranny out-braves And threats to grapple with the darkned Skies How like to moving Mountaines they arise From their distempred Ocean and assaile Heav'ns Battlements nay when the windes dâ—e faile To breathe another blast with their owne motion They still are swelling and disturbe the Ocean Even so the Danite and his trembling wife Their yet confused thoughts are still at strife In their perplexed brests which entertain'd Continued feares too strong to be refrain'd Speechlesse they stood till Manoah that brake The silence first disclos'd his lips and spake What strange aspect was this that to our sight Appear'd so terrible and did affright Our scattering thoughts What did our eyes behold I feare our lavish tongues have bin too bold What speeches past betweene us Can'st recall The words we entertain'd the time withall It was no man It was no flesh and blood Me thought mine eares did â—ngle while he stood And commun'd with me At each word be spake Me thouâ—ht my heart recoil'd his voyce did shake My very Soule but when as he became So angry and so dainty of his name O how my wonder-smitteâ— heart began To faile O then I knâ—w it was no man No no It was the face of God Our eyes Have seene his face who ever saw 't but dies We are but dead Death dwells within his eye And we have seen 't and we shall surely die Where to the woman who did either hide Or else had overcome her feares replide Despairing Man take courage and forbeare These false predictions there 's no cause of feare Would Heaven accept our offerings and receive Our holy things and after that bereive His servants of their lives Can he be thus Pleas'd with our offerings unappeas'd with us Hath he not promis'd that the time shall come Wherein the fruits of my restored wombe Shall make thee father to a hopefull Sonne Can Heaven be false Or can these things be done When we are dead No no his holy breath Had spent in vaine if they had meant our death Recall thy needlesse feares Heaven cannot lye Although we saw his face we shall not dye So said they brake off their discourse and went He to the field and she into her Tent Thrice forty dayes not full compleat being come Within th'enclosure of her quickned wombe The Babe began to spring and with his motion Confirm'd the faith and quickned the devotion Of his beleeving parents whose devout And heaven-ascending Orizans no doubt Were turn'd to thanks and heart-rejoycing praise To holy Hymnes and heavenly Roundelaies The childe growes sturdy Every day gives strength Vnto his wombe-fed limmes till at the length Th'apparent mother having past the date Of her accompt does only now awaite The happy houre wherein she may obtaine Her greatest pleasure with her greatest paine When as the faire directresse of the night Had thrice three times repar'd her wained light Her wombe no longer able to retaine So great a guest betraid her to her paine And for the toilsome worke that she had done She found the wages of a new borne Sonne 〈◊〉 she call'd his name the childe encreast And hourely suckt a blessing with the brest Daily his strength did double He began To grow in favour both with God and Man His well attended Infancy was blest With sweetnesse in his Childhood he exprest True seeds of honour and his youth was crown'd With high and brave adventures which renown'd His honour'd name His courage was suppli'd With mighty strength His haughty spirit defide And hoast of men His power had the praise â—ove all that were before or since his dayes And to conclude Heav'n never yet conjoyn'd So strong a body with so stout a minde Meditat. 6. HOw pretious were those blessed dayes wherein Soules never startled at the name of Sin When as the voyce of death had never yet A mouth to open or to clame a debt When bashfull nakednesse forbare to call For needlesse skins to cover shame withall When as the fruit-encreasing earth obay'd The will of Man without the wound of spade Or helpe of Art When he that now remaines A cursed Captive to infernall chaines Sate singing Anthems in the heavenly Quire Among his fellow Angels When the Bryer The fruitlesse Bramble the fast growing weed And downy Thistle had as yet no seed When labour was not knowne and man did eate The earths faire fruits unearned with his sweate When wombs might have conceiv'd without the stain Of sin and brought forth children without paine When Heaven could speak to mans unfrighted eare Without the sense of Sin-begotten feare How golden were those dayes How happy than Was the condition and the State of man But Man obey'd not And his proud desire Cing'd her bold feathers in forbidden fire But Man transgrest And now his freedome feeles A sudden change Sinne followes at his heeles The voice calls Adam But poore Adam flees And trembling hides his face behind the trees The voice whilere that ravisht with delight His joyfull eare does now alas affright His wounded conscience with amaze and wonder And what of late was musicke now is Thunder How have our sinnes abus'd us and betrai'd Our desperate soules What strangenes have they made Betwixt the great Creator and the worke Of his owne hands How closely doe they lurke To our distempred soules and whisper feares And doubts into our frighted hearts and eares Our eyes cannot behold that glorious face Which is all life unruin'd in the place How is our nature chang'd That very breath Which gave us being is become our death Great God! O whither shall poore mortalls flie For comfort If they see thy face they dye And if thy life-restoring count'nance give Thy presence from us then we cannot live How necessary is the ruine than And misery of sin-beguiled Man On what foundation shall his hopes relie See wee thy face or see it not we dye O let thy Word great God instruct the youth And frailty of our faith Thy Word is truth And what our eyes want power to perceive O let our
glorious Conquerour is now afraid His conscious heart is smitten with his sinne He cannot chuse but feare and feare agin He feares and now the terrible alarmes Of sinne doe call him from th'unlawfull armes And lips of his luxurious Concubine Bids him arise from dalliance and resigne The usurpation of his luke-warme place To some new sinner whose lesse dangerous case May lend more leisure to so soule a deed Samson with greater and vnwonted speed Leapes from his wanton bed his feares doe presse More haste to cloath than lust did to undresse He makes no tarryance but with winged hast Bestrides the streets and to the gates he past And through the armed troupes he makes his way Beares gates and barres and pillers all away So scap'd the rage of the Philistian band That still must owe his ruine to their land Medit. 19. HOw weake at strongest is poore flesh blood Samson the greatnes of whose power withstood A little world of armed men with death â—ust now be foyled with a womans breath The mother sometimes lets her infant fall To make it hold the surer by the wall God lets his servant often goe amisse That he may turne and see how weake he is David that found an overflowing measure Of heavens high favours and as great a treasure Of saving grace and portion of the Spirit As flesh and bloud was able to inherit Must have a fall to exercise his feares And make him drowne his restles couch with tears Wise Salomon within whose heart was planted The fruitfull stockes of heavenly wisdome wanted Not that whereby his weakenesse understood The perfect vanity of flesh and bloud Whose hand seem'd prodigall of his Isaacs life He durst not trust Gods providence with his wife The righteous Lâ—t had slidings Holy Paul He had his pricke and Peter had his fall The sacred Bride in whose faire face remaines The greatest earthly beauty hath her staines If man were perfect land entirely good He were not man he were not flesh and blood Or should he never fall he would at length Not see his weakenesse and presume in strength Ere children know the sharpnesse of the Edge They thinke their fingers have a priveledge Against a wound but having felt the knife A bleeding finger sometime saves a life Lord we are children our sharpe-edg'd knives Together with our bloud le ts out our lives Alas if we but draw them from the sheath They cut our fingers and they bleed to death Thou great Chirurgion of a bleeding soule Whose soveraigne baulme is able to make whole The deepest wound Thy sacred salve is sure We cannot bleed so fast as thou canst cure Heale thou our wounds that having salv'd the sore Our hearts may feare and learne to sinne no more And let our hands be strangers to those knives That wound not fingers onely but our lives THE ARGVMENT He falls in league with Delila The Nobles bribe her to discover Her Samsons strength and learne the way To binde her arme-prevailing Lover Sect. 20. NOt farre from Azza in a fruitfull Valley Close by a brooke whose silver streams did daâ—ley â—ith the smooth bosome of the wanton sands â—hose winding current parts the neighbring lands And often washes the beloved sides â—her delightfull bankes with gentle tydes â—â—re dwelt a Beauty in whose Sunne-bright eye 〈◊〉 sate in thron'd and full of Majestie 〈◊〉 forth such glorious eye-surprizing rayes 〈◊〉 she was thought the wonder of her dayes 〈◊〉 name was called Delila the faire â—â—ther did amorous Samson oft repaire 〈◊〉 with the piercing flame of her bright eye 〈◊〉 so long that like a wanton flye 〈◊〉 â—urnt his lustfull wings and so became 〈◊〉 slavish prisner to that conquering flame She askt and had There 's nothing was too high For her to beg or Samson to denie Who now but Delila What name can raise And crowne his drooping thoughts but Delila's All time 's mispent each houre is cast away That 's not imploy'd upon his Delila Gifts must be given to Delila No cost If sweetest Delila but smile is lost No ioy can please no happinesse can crowne His best desires if Delila but frowne No good can blesse his amorous heart but this Hee 's Delila's and Delila is his Now when the louder breath of fame had blowne Her newes-proclaiming Trumpet made knowne This Lovers passion to the joyfull eares Of the cow'd Philistines their nimble feates Advis'd their better hopes not to neglect So faire advantage which may bring t' effect Their best desires and right their wasted Land Of all her wrongs by a securer hand With that some few of the Philistian Lords Repaire to Delila with baited words They tempt the frailty of the simple maid And having sworne her to their counsell said Faire Delila Thou canst not chuse but know The miseries of our land whose ruines show The danger whereinto not we but all If thou deny they helpefull hand must fall Those fruitfull fields that offer'd but of late Their plenteous favours to our prosperous state See how they lie a ruinous heape and void Of all their plenty wasted and destroyde Our common foe hath sported with our lives Hath slaine our children and destroy'd our wives 〈…〉 poore distressed land doth grone Vnder that mischiefe that his hands have done â—â—dowes implore thee and poore Orphans tongues â—all to faire Delila to right their wrongs 〈◊〉 lies in thee to help Thy helpefull hand May haâ—e the Glory to revenge thy land For which our thankefull Nation shall allow Not onely honour but reward and thou From every hand that 's present here shall gaine 〈◊〉 a thousand Sicles for thy paine To whom faire Delila whom reward had tied To satisfie her owne desires replied My Lords My humble service I acknowledge due 〈◊〉 to my native country next to you If Heaven and Fortune have enricht my hand With so much power to relieve our Land When ere your honours please to call me to it 〈◊〉 Delila shall die or doe it Say then my Lords wherein my power may doe This willing Service to my land or you Thou knowest say they No forces can withstand The mighty strength of cursed Samsons hand 〈◊〉 ruines Armies and does overthrow 〈◊〉 greatest Bands nay kingdomes at a blow The limits of his more then manly powers Are not confin'd nor is his Arme like ours His strength is more then man his conquering Arme Hath sure th' assistance of some potent charme 〈◊〉 nothing but the glory of thine eyes Wherein a farre more strong enchantment lies 〈◊〉 overthrow He 's prisoner to thine eye 〈◊〉 canst thou aske what Samson can deny 〈◊〉 sweetnesse of thy language hath the Art To dive into the secrets of his heart Move Samson then unbarre his bolted brest And let his deafned eares attaine no rest Vntill his eye-inchanted tongue replyes And tells thee where his hidden power lyes Vrge him to whisper in thy private â—are And to repose his magicke mystr'y there How by what meanes
ayre-diuiding plumes She struggles often and she oft presumes To take the sanctuary of the open fields But finding that her hopes are vaine she yeelds Even so poore Samson frighted at the sound That rows'd him from his rest forsook the ground Perceiving the Philistians there at hand To take him pris'ner he began to stand Vpon his wonted Guard His threatning breath Brings forth the prologue to their following death He rowz'd himselfe and like a Lyon shooke His drowzy limmes and with a cloudy looke Fore-telling boystrous and tempestuous weather Defi'd each one defi'd them all together Now when he came to grapple he upheav'd His mighty hand but now alas bereav'd Of wonted power that confounding arme That could no lesse then murther did no harme Blow was exchang'd for blow wound for wound He that of late disdained to give ground Flies backe apace who lately stain'd the field With conquer'd blood does now begin to yeeld He that of late brake twisted Ropes in twaine Is bound with Packthred He that did disdaine To feare the power of an Armed Band Can now walke prisoner in a single hand Thus have the trecherous Philistines betray'd Poore captive Samson Samson now obay'd Those glowing eyes that whirled death about Where ere they view'd their cursed hands put out They led him pris'ner and convai'd him downe 〈◊〉 strong-wall'd d' Azza that Philistiâ—â— towne Those gates his shoulders lately bore away â—â—ere in the common Prison did they lay â—â—stressed Samson who obtain'd no meate 〈◊〉 what he purchas'd with his painfull sweate 〈◊〉 every day they urg'd him to fulfill 〈◊〉 twelve howres taske at the laborious Mill 〈◊〉 when his wasted strength began to tyre â—â—ey'd quicken his bare sides with whips of Wire â—â—ll'd was the towne with Ioy and Triumph All â—rom the high-Prince to th' Cobbler on the stall â—ept holy-day whilest every voice became â—oarse as the Trumpe of newes-divulging fame 〈◊〉 tongues were fill'd with shouts And every eare â—â—as growne impatient of the whisperer 〈◊〉 generall was their Triumph their Applause That children shouted ere they knew a cause The better sort betooke them to their knees Dagon must worship'd be Dagon that frees â—oth Sea and Land Dagon that did subdue 〈◊〉 common â—oe Dagon must have his due Dagon must have his praise must have his prize Dagon must have his holy Sacrifice Dagon has brought to our victorious hand â—roud Samson Dagon has redeem'd our land 〈◊〉 call to Dagon and our Dagon heares 〈◊〉 groanes are 〈◊〉 to holy Dagons eares To Dagon all renowne and Glory be Where is there such another God as Hee Medita 22. HOw is our story chang'd O more then strange Effects of so small time O sudden change Is this that holy Nazarite for whom Heaven shew'd a Miracle on the barren wombe Is this that holy Thing against whose Birth Angels must quit their thrones and visit Earth Is this that blessed Infant that began To grow in favour so with God and man What is this he who strengthn'd by heav'ns hand Was borne a Champion to redeeme the Land Is this the man whose courage did contest With a fierce Lyon grapling brest to brest And in a twinkling tore him quite in sunder Is this that Conquerour whose Arme did thunder Vpon the men of Askalon the power Of whose bent fist slew thirty in an hower Is this that daring Conquerour whose hand Thrasht the proud Philistines in their wasted land And was this He that with the helpe of none Destroy'd a thousand with a silly Bone Or He whose wrists being bound together did Break Cords like flax and double Ropes like thrid Is this the man whose hands unhing'd those Gates And bare them thence with pillars barrs Grates And is he turn'd a Mill-horse now and blinde Must this great Conquerour be forc'd to grinde For bread and water Must this Heroe spend His latter times in drudgery Must he end His weary dayes in darknesse Must his hyer Be knotted cords and torturing whips of wyer â—â—ere heaven withdraws the creaturs power shakes 〈◊〉 miserie 's wanting there where God forsakes 〈◊〉 Samson not abus'd his borrow'd power 〈◊〉 had still remain'd a Conquerour 〈◊〉 Philistins did act his part No doubt 〈◊〉 eyes offended and they pluck'd them out 〈◊〉 will be just He punishes a sin 〈◊〉 in the member that he findes it in â—â—en faithlesse Zacharias did become 〈◊〉 curious his lips were strucken dumbe 〈◊〉 whose lustfull view did overprize â—â—lawfull beautie's punisht in his eyes 〈◊〉 flaming eyes seduc'd his wanton minde 〈◊〉 act a sinne Those eyes are stricken blinde 〈◊〉 beauty he invaded did invade him 〈◊〉 that faire tong that blest him so betraid him 〈◊〉 strength intemperate lust imploy'd so ill 〈◊〉 a dâ—iving the laborious Mill 〈◊〉 naked sides so pleas'd with lusts desire 〈◊〉 now as naked lasht with whips of wire Lord shouldst thou punish every part in me 〈◊〉 does offend what member would be free 〈◊〉 member acts his part They never lin 〈◊〉 they joyne and make a Body ' of fin 〈◊〉 sinne my burthen Let it never please me 〈◊〉 thou hast promis'd when I come to ease me THE ARGVMENT They make a feast And then to crowne Their mirth blind Samson is brought thither He pulls the mighty pillers downe The Building falls All slaine together Sect. 23. THus when the vulgar Triumph which does last But seldome longer then the newes was past And Dagons holy Altars had surecast To breath their idle fumes they call'd a feast A common Feast whose bounty did bewray A common joy to gratulate the day Whereto the Princes vnder whose command Each province was in their diuided land Whereto the Lords Leiutenants and all those To whom the supreme Rulers did repose An under-trust whereto the better sort Of gentry and of Commons did resort With mirth and jolly triumph to allay Their sorrowes and to solemnize the day Into the common Hall they come The Hall Was large and faire Her arched roofe was all Builded with massie stone and over-lai'd With pond'rous Lead Two sturdy Pillers stai'd Her mighty Rafters up whereon relied The weighty burthen of her lofty pride When lusty dyet and the frollicke cup Had rouz'd and rais'd their quickned spirits up 〈◊〉 brave triumphing Bacchus had displaid 〈◊〉 conquering colours in their cheeks they said 〈◊〉 Samson forth He must not worke toâ— day 〈…〉 feast Wee 'l give him leave to play 〈…〉 bravely Does our Mill-horse sweat 〈◊〉 lacke nothing What he wants in meaâ—e 〈◊〉 in lashes He is strong and stout 〈◊〉 his breath can drive the Mill about 〈◊〉 too hard we feare Goe downe and free him 〈◊〉 that his Mistresse Delila would see him 〈◊〉 of him will take our howers short 〈◊〉 him then to make our Honours sport 〈◊〉 proviaâ— some Riddles Let him bring 〈◊〉 of Triumph He that 's blinde may sing 〈◊〉 better boldnesse Bid him never doubt 〈◊〉 What matter though his eyes be out 〈◊〉 dishonour that he cannot see 〈◊〉
The Speakers CHRIST the Bridegroome the CHVRCH the Bride The end to invite you all to the wedding Farewell AN EPITHALME TO THE BRIDEGROOME HOsanna to the Highest Ioy betide The heavenly Bridegroome and his holy Bride Let Heaven above be fill'd with songs Let Earth triumph below For ever silent be those tongues That can be silent now You Rocks and Stones I charge you all to breake Your flinty silence if men cease to speake You that professe that sacred Art Or now or never show it Plead not your Muse is out of heart Here 's that creates a Poet. Be ravisht Earth to see this contract driven 'Twixt sinfull Man and reconciled Heaven Dismount you Quire of Angels come With Men your joyes divide Heaven never shew'd so sweet a Groome Nor Earth so faire a Bride SIONS SONETS BRIDE SONET I. 1. O That the bounty of those lips divine Wold seale their favors on these lips of mine That by those welcome kisses I might see The mutuall love betwixt my Love and me For truer blisse no worldly joy allowes Than sacred Kisses from so sweet a Spouse With which no earthly pleasures may compare Rich Wines are not so delicate as they 'r 2. NOr Myrrh nor Cassia nor the choice perfumeâ— Of unctious Narde or Aromaticke fumes Of hot Arabia doe enrich the Aire With more delicious sweetnesse than the faire Reports that crowne the merits of thy Name With heavenly Lawrels of eternall fame Which makes the Virgins fix their eyes upon thee And all that view thee are enamour'd one thee 3. O Let the beauty of thy Suâ—-like face Inflame my soule and let thy glory chace Disloyall thoughts Let noâ— the World allure My chaste desires from a Spouse so pure But when as time shall place me on thy Throne My feares shall cease and interrupt by none I shall transcend the stile of Transitory And full of Glory still be fill'd with glory 4. BVt you my curious and too nice allyes That view my fortunes with too narrow eyes You say my face is black and foule 't is true I 'm beauteous to my Love though black to you My censure stands not upon your esteeme He sees me as I am you as I seeme You see the Clouds but he discernes the Skie Know 't is my mask that lookes so black not I. 5. WHat if Afflictions doe dis-imbellish My naturall glory and deny the rellish Of my adjourned beauty yet disdaine not Her by whose necessary losse you gaine not I waâ— inforc'd to swelter in the Sun 〈◊〉 keepe a strangers Vine left mine alone â—eft mine owne and kept a strangers Vine 〈◊〉 fault was mine but was not onely mine 6. O Thou whose love I prize above my life More worthy farre t' enjoy a fairer wife Tell me to what cool shade dost thou resort â—here graze thy Sheepe where doe thy lambs disport 〈◊〉 from the scorching of this sowltry weather 〈◊〉 tell thy Love and let thy Love come thither 〈◊〉 gentle Shepheard fits it thee to cherish â—hy private Flocks and let thy true Love perish BRIDEGROOME SONET II. ILlustrious Bride more radiant and more bright Then th' eye of Noon thrice fairer then the light Thou dearest off-spring of my dying blood â—ad treasure of my soule why hast thou stood â—arching so long in those ambitious beames Come come coole thee in these silver streams â—nshade thy face cast back those golden Locks And I will make thee Mistris of my Flocks 2. O Thou the Center of my choyce desires In whom I rest in whom my soule respires Thou art the flowre of beauty and I prize thee Above the world how e're the world despise thee The blinde imagines all things black by kinde Thou art as beautifull as they are blinde And as the fairest troopes of Pharoes steeds Exceed the rest so Thou the rest exceeds 3. THy cheek the garden where fresh beauty plaÌ„â—â— Her choicest flowers no adorning wants There wants no relish of diviner grace To summe compleatnesse in so sweet a face Thy Neck without a blemish without blot Than pearl's more orient cleare from stain or spot Thy Gemms and Iewels full of curious art Imply the sacred treasures of thy heart 4. THe Sun-bright glory of thy resounding fame Addes glory to the glory of thy Name The more 's thy honor Love the more thou striv'st To honour me thou gainest what thou giv'st My Father whom our Contract hath made thine Will give thee large endowments of divine 〈◊〉 everlasting treasure Thus by me Thou shalt be rich that am thus rich in thee BRIDE SONET III. OH how my soule is ravisht with the joyes That spring like fountains froÌ„ my tru-loves voice 〈◊〉 cordiall are his lips How sweet his tongue Each word he breathes is a melodious song 〈◊〉 absent ah how is my glory dim 〈◊〉 have no beauty not deriv'd from Him What e're I have from Him alone I have And he takes pleasure in those gifts he gave 2. AS fragrant Myrâ—h within the bosome hid Sents more delicious than before it did And yet receives no sweetnesse from that brest That proves the sweeter for so sweet a guest Even so the favour of my dearest Spouse Thus priz'd and placed in my heart endowes My ardent soule with sweetnesse and inspires With heavenly ravishment my rapt desires 3. WHo ever smelt the breath of morning flowres New sweet'nd with the dash of twilight shoures Of pounded Amber or the flowring Thyme Or purple violets in their proudest prime Or swelling Clusters from the Cypresse tree So sweet's my Love I farre more sweet is He So faire so sweet that Heavens bright eye is dim And flowers have no sent compar'd with Him BRIDEGROOME SONET IIII. O Thou the joyes of my sufficed heart The more thou think'st me fair the more thou art Looke in the Christall Mirrours of mine eyes And view thy beauty there thy beauty lyes See there th'unmated glory of thy Face Well mixt with Spirit and divinest grace The eyes of Doves are not so faire as thine O how those eyes inflame these eyes of mine BRIDE SONET V. MOst radiant and refulgent Lampe of light Whose midday beauty yet ne're found a night 'T is thou 't is onely thou art faire from Thee Reflect those rayes that have enlightned mee And as bright Cinthia's borrow'd beames doe shine From Titan's glory so doe I from thine So dayly flourishes our fresh delight In dayly giving and receiving light 2. NOr does thy glory shine to me alone What place wherein thy glory hath not shone But O how fragrant with rich odour smells That sacred House where thou my true Love dwells 〈◊〉 is it strange How can those places bee 〈◊〉 fill'd with sweetnesse if possest with thee 〈◊〉 heart 's a Heaven for thou art in that heart 〈◊〉 presence makes a Heaven where e're thou art BRIDEGROOME SONET VI. THou
I had no other heaven 〈◊〉 a while not able to digest So great a losse to lose so faire a Guest I left no path untrac'd no place â—nsought No secret Cell unsearcht no way unthought I ask'd the shade but shadowes could not hide him I ask'd the World but all the world deny'd him 5. MY jealous Love distemp'red with distraction Made fierce with feare unapt for satisfaction Aplyes fresh fuell to my flaming fires With Eagles wings supplies my quicke desires Vp to the walls I trampled where I spide The City watch to whom with teares I cryde Ah gentle Watchmen you aloft descry What 's darke to us did not my love passe by 6 AT leÌ„gth wheÌ„ dul despaire had gain'd the grouÌ„d Of tyred hopes my faith fell in a swound But He whose sympathising heart did finde The tyrant passion of my troubled minde Forthwith appear'd What Angels tongue can let The world conceive our pleasures when we met And till the joyes of our espoused hearts Be made coÌ„pleat the world ne're more shall part 's BRIDEGROOME SONET X. NOw rests my love Till now her tender brest Wanting her joy could finde no peace no rest I charge you all by the true love you beare To friendship or what else you count most deare Disturbe her not but let her sleepe her fill I charge you all upon your lifes be still O may that labouring soule that lives opprest For me in me receive eternall rest 2. WHat curious face is this what mortall birth Can shew a beauty thus unstain'd with earth What glorious Angell wanders thus alone From earths foule dungeon to my fathers throne 〈◊〉 is my love my love that hath denyde The world for me It is my fairest Bride 〈◊〉 fragrant is her breath How heavenly faire Her Angell face Each glorifying the Aire BRIDE SONET XI O How I 'm ravisht with eternall blisse Who e're thought heaveÌ„ a joy coÌ„par'd to this â—ow doe the pleasures of this glorious Face Adde glory to the glory of this place 〈◊〉 how Kings Courts surmouÌ„t poore Shepheards cells So this the pride of Salom on excells 〈◊〉 wreathes of glory crowne his royall Head And troopes of Angels waite upon his bed 2. THe Court of Princely Salomon was guarded With able men at armes their faith rewarded â—ith fading honours subject to the fate Of Fortune and the jealous frownes of State 〈◊〉 here th' harmonious quire of heaven attend Those prize is glory glory without end â—â—mixt with doubtings or degenerous feare 〈◊〉 greater Prince than Salomon is here 3. THe Bridall bed of Princely Salomon Whose beautie amaz'd the greedie lookers on Which all the world admired to behold Was but of Cedar and her Sted of gold Her pillars silver and her Canopie Of silkes but richly stain'd with purple die Her curtaines wrought in workes workes rarely led By th' needles art such was the bridall bed 4. SVch was the bridall bed which Time or Age Durst never warrant from th'opprobrious rage Of envious fate Earths measure 's but a minit Earth fades all fades upon it all within it O but the glorie ' of this diviner place No age can injure nor yet Time deface Too bright an object for weake eyes to bide Or tongues t' expresse Who ever saw 't but dyde 5. WHo e're beheld the royall Crowne set on The nuptiall browes of Princely Salomon His glorious pompe whose honour did display The noysed triumphs of his Marriage day A greater Prince than Salomon is here The beauty of whose Nuptials shall appeare More glorious farre transcending his as farre As heavens bright lamp out-shines th'obscurest star BRIDEGROOME SONET XII HOw orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine Thy vailed eyes out-shine heavens greater light Vnconquer'd by the shadie Cloud of night Thy curious Tresses dangle all unbound With unaffected order to the ground How orient is thy beautie how divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 2. THy Ivory Teeth in whitenesse doe out-goe The downe of Swans or winters driven snow Those even proportions lively represent Thâ— harmonious Musicke of unite consent Whose perfect whitenesse Time could never blot Nor age the Canker of destruction rot How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 3. THe rubie Portalls of thy ballanc'd words Send forth a welcome relish which affords A heaven of blisse and makes the earth rejoyce To heare the Accent of thy heavenly voice The mayden blushes of thy Cheekes proclaime A shame of guilt but not a guilt of shame How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 4. THy necke unbeautifyde with borrowed grace Is whiter than the Lillies of thy face 〈◊〉 whiter may for beauty and for powre T is like the glory of Davids princely Towre What vassall spirit could despaire or faint Finding protection from so sure a Saint How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to Thine 5. THe deare-bought fruit of that forbidden Tree Was not so dainty as thy Apples be These curious Apples of thy snowy brests Wherein a Paradise of pleasure rests They breathe such life into the ravisht Eye That the inflam'd beholder cannot dye How orient is thy beautie How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to Thine 6. MY dearest Spouse I 'le hie me to my home And till that long-expected day shall come The light wherof shall chase the night that shrouds Thy vailed beauty in these envious clouds Till then I goe and in my Throne provide A glorious welcome for my fairest Bride Chapplets of conqu'ring Palme Lawrel boughs Shall crowne thy Temples and adorne thy browes 7. WOuld beauty faine be flatter'd with a grace She never had May she behold thy face Envie would burst had she no other taske Than to behold this face without a maske No spot no veniall blemish could she finde To feed the famine of her ranc'rous minde Thou art the flowre of beauties Crowne they 're Much worse than foule that thinke thee lesse than faire 8 Feare not my Love for when those sacred bands Of wedlock shall conjoyne our promis'd hands I 'le come and quit thee from this tedious place Where thou art forc'd to sojourne for a space No forrein Angle of the utmost Lands Nor seas Abysse shall hide thee from my hands No night shall shade thee from my curious eye I 'le rouze the graves although grim death stand by 9. ILlustrious beames shot from thy flaming eye Made fierce with zeale and soveraigne Majestie Have scorcht my soule and like a fiery dart Transfixt the Center of my wounded heart The Virgin swetnesse of thy heavenly grace Hath made mine eyes glad pris'ners to thy face The beautie of thine eye-balls hath bereft Me of my heart O sweet O sacred
theft 10. O Thou the deare Inflamer of mine eyes Life of my soule and hearts eternall prize How delectable is thy love How pure How apt to ravish able to allure A frozen soule and with thy secret fire T' affect dull spirits with extreame desire How doe thy joyes though in their greatest dearth Transcend the proudest pleasures of the earth 11. THy lips my dearest spouse are the ful treasures Of sacred Poesie whose heavenly measures Ravish with joy the willing heart that heares But strike a deafenesse in rebellious eares Thy words like milke and Honie doe requite The season'd soule with profit and delight Heavens higher Palace and these lower places Of dungeon-earth are sweetned with thy graces 12. MY Love is like a Garden full of flowers Whose sunny banks choice of shady bowres Give change of pleasures pleasures wall'd about With Armed Angels to keepe Ruine out And from her brests enclosed from the ill Of looser eyes pure Chrystall drops distill The fruitfull sweetnesse of whose gentle showres Inrich her flowrs with beautie ' banks with flowrs 13. MY Love is like a Paradise beset With rarest gifts whose fruits but tender yet The world ne're tasted dainties farre more rare Than Edens tempting Apple and more faire Myrrhe Alloes Incense and the Cypresse tree Can boast no swetnesse but is breath'd from thee Dainties for taste and flowers for the smell Spring all from thee whose sweets all sweets excell BRIDE SONET XIII O Thou my deare whose sweets all sweets excell From whom my fruits receive their tast their smell How can my thriving plants refuse to grow Thus quickned with so sweet a Sun as thou How can my flowers which thy Ewers nourish With showers of living waters choose but flourish O thou the spring from whence these waters burst Did ever any taste thy streames and thurst 2. AM I a Garden May my flowers bee So highly honour'd to be smelt by thee Inspire them with thy sacred breath and then Receive from them thy borrowed breath agen Frequent thy Garden whose rare fruit invites Thy welcome presence to his choise Delights Taste where thou list and take thy full repaste Here 's that wil please thy smel thine eye thy taste BRIDEGROOME SONET XIIII THou sacred Center of my soule in whome I rest behold thy wisht-for Love is come Refresht with thy delights I have repasted Vpon thy pleasures my full soule hath tasted Thy rip'ned dainties and hath freely beene Pleas'd with those fruits that are as yet but green All you that love the honour of my Bride Come taste her Vineyards and be deifi'de BRIDE SONET XV. IT was a night a night as darke as foule As that blacke Errour that entranc'd my Soule When as my best beloved came and knockt At my dull gates too too securely lockt Vnbolt said he these churlish doores my Dove Let not false slumbers bribe thee from thy Iove Heare him that for thy gentle sake came hither Long injur'd by this nights ungentle weather 2. Heard the voice but the perfidious pleasure Of my sweet slumbers could not finde the leasure â—ope my drowsie dores my Spirit could speake â—ords faire enough but ah my flesh was weake 〈◊〉 fond excuses taught me to betray 〈◊〉 sacred vowes to a secure delay â—â—â—â—dious slumbers how have you the might 〈◊〉 blinde true pleasures with a false delight 3. WHen as my Love with oft repeated knocks Could not availe shaking his dewy locks â—â—â—ly displeas'd he could no longer bide 〈◊〉 slight neglect but went away denyde 〈◊〉 sooner gone but my dull soule discern'd 〈◊〉 drowzie error my griev'd Spirit yearn'd 〈◊〉 finde him out these seiled eyes that slept 〈◊〉 soundly fast awak'd much faster wept 4. THus rais'd and rouz'd from my deceitfull rest â—op'd my doores where my departed Guest 〈◊〉 beene I thrust the churlish Portals from me That so deny'de my dearest Bridegroome to me 〈◊〉 when I smelt of my returned hand 〈◊〉 soule was rapt my powers all did stand â—â—azed at the sweetnesse they did finde Which my neglected Love had left behinde 5. I Op'd my doore my Myrrheâ— distilling doore But ah my Guest was gone had given me o're What curious pen what Artist can define A matelesse sorrow Such ah such was mine Doubts and despaire had of my life depriv'd me Had not strong hope of his returne reviv'd me I sought but he refused to appeare I call'd but he would not be heard nor heare 6. THus with the tyranny of griefe distraught I rang'd a round no place I left unsought No care unask'd The watch-men of the City Wounded my soule without remorse of pity To virgin teares They taught my feet to stray Whose steps were apt enough to lose their way With taunts scornes they checkt me and derided And call'd me Whore because I walkt unguided 7. YOu hallowed Virgins you whose tender hearts Ere felt th' impression of Loves secret darts I charge you all by the deare faith you owe To Virgin purenesse and your vestall vowe Commend me to my Love if ere you meet him O tell him that his love-sick spouse doth greet him O let him know I languish with desire Tâ— enjoy that heart that sets this heart on fire VIRGINS SONET XVI O Thou the fairest flowre of mortall birth If such a beautie may be borne of earth â—â—gell or Virgin which or both in one â—â—gell by beauty Virgin by thy moane â—â—y who is He that may deserve these teares â—hese precious drops Who is 't can stop his eares 〈◊〉 these faire lips Speake Lady speake at large â—ho is 't For whom giv'st thou so strict a charge BRIDE SONET XVII MY Love is the perfection of delight Roses and Doves are not so red so white â—â—patern'd beautie summon'd every grace 〈◊〉 the composure of so sweet a face 〈◊〉 body is a Heaven for in his brest â—he perfect Essence of a God doth rest â—he brighter eye of Heaven did never shine â—â—an another glorie so divine 2. HIs Head is farre more glorious to behold Than fruitfull Ophyres oft refined gold T is the rich Magazen of secret treasure â—hence Graces spring in unconsined measure 〈◊〉 curl'd and dagling Tresses doe proclame Nâ—zarite on whom ne're Razor came Whose Raven-blacke colour gives a curious relish To that which beauty did so much imbellish 3. LIke to the eyes of Doves are his faire eyes Wherein sterne Iustice mixt with mercy lies His eyes are simple yet Majesticall In motion nimble and yet chaste withall Flaming like fier and yet burne they not Vnblemisht undistained with a spot Blazing with precious beames and to behold Like two rich Diamonds in a frame of gold 4. HIs cheeks are like two fruitfull beds ore-grown With Aromaticke flowers newly blowne Whose odours beauty please the smell the sight And doubling pleasures double the delight His lips are like a chrystall spring
Thy servants glory in thy ruine those That were thy private friends are publike foes Thus thus say they we spit our rankrous spleene And gâ—ash our teeth upon the worlds faire Queene Thrice welcome this this long expected day That crownes our conquest with so sweet a prey ELEG 17. REbellious Iudah Could thy flattring crimes Secure thee from the dangers of the times Or did thy summer Prophets ere foresay These evills or warn'd thee of a winters day Did not those sweet-lipt Oracles beguile Thy wanton eares with newes of Wine and Oile But heaven is just what his deepe counsell wild His prophets told and Iustice hath fulfill'd He hath destroy'd no secret place so voyd No Fort so sure that Heaven hath not destroy'd Thou land of Iudah How 's thy sacred throne Become a stage for Heathen to trample on ELEG 18. SEe see th' accursed Gentiles doe inherit The Land of promise where heavens Sacred Spirit Built Temples for his everlasting Name There there th'usurping Pagans doe proclaime Their idle Idols unto whom they gave That stolen honor which heavnes Lord should have Winke Sion O let not those eyes be stain'd With heavens dishonour see not heaven profan'd Close close thine eyes or if they needs must be Open like flood-gates to let water flee Yet let the violence of their flowing streames Obscure thine open eyes and mask their beames ELEG 19. TRust not thy eye-lids lest a flattering sleepe Bribe them to rest and they forget to weepe Powre out thy heart thy heart dissolv'd in teares Weepe forth thy plaints in the Almighties eares Oh let thy cries thy cries to heaven addrest Disturbe the silence of thy midnight rest Prefer the sad petitions of thy soule To heaven ne're close thy lips till heaven condole Confounded Sion and her wounded weale That God that smit oh move that God to heale Oh let thy tongue ne're cease to call thine eye To weepe thy pensive heart ne're cease to cry ELEG 20. VOuchsafe oh thou eternall Lord of pitty To looke on Sion and thy dearest City Confus'd Ierusalem for thy DAVIâ—S sake And for that promise which thy selfe did make To halting Isr'el loe thy hand hath forc'd Mothers whom law lesse Famine hath divorc'd From deare affection to devoure the bloomes And buds that burgeond froÌ„ their painful wombs Thy sacred Priests and Prophets that while-ere Did hourely whisper in thy neighbouring eare Are falne before the sacrilegious sword Even where even whilst they did unfold thy word ELEG 21. WOunded and wasted by th' eternall hand Of heaven I grovell on the ground my land Is turn'd a Golgotha before mine eye Vnsepulchred my murthred people lye My dead lye rudely scattred on the stones My Cawsies all are pav'd with dead mens bones The fierce Destroyer doth alike forbeare The maidens trembling and the Matrons teare Th' imperiall sword spares neither Foole nor Wise The old mans pleading nor the Infants cries Vengeance is deafe and blinde and she respects Nor Young nor Old nor Wise nor Foole nor Sex ELEG 22. YEares heavie laden with their months retire Months gone their date of numbred daies expire The daies full houred to their period tend And howers chac'd with light-foot Minutes end Yet my undated evills no time will minish Though yeares months though daies and howers finish Feares flocke about me as invited guests Before the Portalls at proclamed feasts Where heaveÌ„ hath breathd that man that state must fall Heaven wants no thunder-bolts to strike withall I am the subject of that angry Breath My sonnes are slaine and I am mark'd for death Threnodia III. ELEG 1. ALL you whose unprepared lips did tast The tedious Cup of sharp affliction cast Your wondring eyes on me that have drunke up Those dregs whereof you onely kist the Cup I am the man 'gainst whom th' Eternall hath Discharg'd the lowder volley of his wrath I am the man on whom the brow of night Hath scowl'd unworthy to behold the light I am the man in whom th' Almighty showeâ— The dire example of unpattern'd woes I am that Pris'ner ransome cannot free I am that man and I am onely he ELEG 2. BOndage hath forc'd my servile necke to faile Beneath her load Afflictions nimble flayle Hath thrasht my soule upon a floore of stones And quasht the marrow of my broken bones Th' assembled powres of Heaven enrag'd are eager To root me out Heavens souldiers doe beleager My worried soule my soule unapt for fleeing That yeelds o'reburthen'd with her tedious being Th' Almighties hand hath clouded all my night And clad my soule with a perpetuall light A night of torments and eternall sorrow Like that of Death that never findes a morrow ELEG 3. CHain'd to the brazen pillars of my woes I strive in vaine No mortall hand can loose What heaven hath bound my soule is walld about That hope can nor get in nor feare get out When ere my wav'ring hopes to heaven addresse The feeble voice of my extreame distresse He stops his tyred eares without regard Of Suit or Suitor leaves my prayers unheard Before my faint and stumbling feet he layes Blockes to disturbe my best advised wayes I seeke my peace but seeke my peace in vaine For every way 's a Trap each path's a Traine ELEG 4. DIsturbed Lyons are appeas'd with blood And ravenous Beares are milde not wanting food But heaven ah heaven will not implored be Lyons and Beares are not so fierce as Hee His direfull vengeance which no meane confines Hath crost the thriving of my best designes His hand hath spoild me that erewhile advanc't me Brought in my foes possest my friends against me His Bow is bent his forked Rovers flie Like darted haile-stones from the darkned skie Shot from a hand that cannot erre they be Transfixed in no other marke but me ELEG 5. EXil'd from Heaven I wander to and fro And seeke for streames as Stags new stricken doe And like a wandring Hart I flee the Hounds With Arrowes deeply fixed in my wounds My deadly Hunters with a winged pace Pricke forwards and pursue their weary chace They whoope they hollow me deride flout me That flee from death yet carrie death about me Excesse of torments hath my soule deceiv'd Of all her joyes of all her powres bereiv'd O curious griefe that hast my soule brim-fill'd With thousand deaths and yet my soule not kill'd ELEG 6. FOllow'd with troopes of feares I flie in vaine For change of places breeds new change of paine The base condition of my low estate My exalted Foes disdaine and wonder at Turne where I list these these my wretched eyes They finde no objects but new miseries My soule accustom'd to so long encrease Of paines forgets that she had ever peace Thus thus perplext thus with my griefes distracted What shall I do Heavens powers are compacted To worke my ' eternall ruine To what friend Shal I make mone when heaven conspires my end ELEG 7. GReat GOD what helpe ah me what hope is left
me feare no harme What strange disaster caus'd this sudden change How wert thou once so neare and now so strange ELEG 20. VAnquisht by such as thirsted for my life And brought my soule into a legall strife How oft hast thou just GOD maintain'd my cause And crost the sentence of their bloudie lawes Be still my God be still that GOD thou wert Looke on thy mercy not on my desert Be thou my Iudge betwixt my foes and me The Advocate betwixt my soule Thee 'Gainst thee great Lord their arme they have advanc'd And dealt that blow to thee that thus hath glanc'd Vpon my soule smite those that have smit thee And for thy sake discharge their spleene at me ELEG 21. WHat squint-ey'd scorne what flout what wry-mouth'd scoffe That sullen pride e're tooke acquaintance of Hath scap'd the furie of my Foemans tongue To doe my simple Innocencie wrong What day what houre nay what shorter season Hath kept my soule secure from the treason Of their corrupted counsels which dispensed Dayes nights and houres to conspire my end My sorrowes are their songs and as slight fables Fill up the silence of their wanton tables Looke downe just God with thy powre divine Behold my Foes They be thy Foes and mine ELEG 22. YEt sleeps thy vengeance Can thy lustice be So slow to them and yet so sharpe to me Dismount just Iudge from thy Tribunall Throne And pay thy Foemen the deserved lone Of their unjust designes Make fierce thy hand And scourge thou theÌ„ as they have scourg'd my laÌ„d Breake thou their Adamantine hearts pound theÌ„ To dust and with thy finall curse confound them Let horror seize their soules O may they bee The scorne of Nations that have scorned thee O may they live distrest and die bereaven Of earth delights and of the joyes of Heaven Threnodia IIII. ELEG 1. ALas what alterations Ah how strange Amazement flowes from such an uncouth change Ambitious Ruine could thy razing hand Finde ne're a subject but the Holy Land Thou sacrilegious Ruine to attempt The house of God! was not heavens house exempt From thy accursed Rape Ah me Behold Sion whose pavement of refulgent gold So lately did reflect so bright so pure How dimme how drossie now ah how obscure Her sacred stones lie scatter'd in the street For stumbling blocks before the Levites feet ELEG 2. BEhold her Princes whose victorious browes Fame oft had crowned with her Laurell bowes See how they hide their shame-confounded crests And hang their heads upon their fainting brests Behold her Captaines and brave men at armes Whose spirits fired at warres loud alarmes Like worried sheepe how flee they from the noise Of Drummes and startle at the Trumpets voice They faint and like amazed Lyons show Their fearefull heeles if Chaunticleere but crow How are the pillars Sion of thy state Transform'd toâ—lay and burnisht gold so late ELEG 3. CAn furious Dragons heare their helplesse broode Cry out and fill their hungry lips with food Hath Nature taught fierce Tygers to apply The brest unto their younglings empty cry Have savage beasts time place and natures helps To feed and foster up their idle whelpes And shall the tender Babes of Sion cry And pine for food and yet their mothers by Dragons and Tygers and all savage beasts Can feed their young but Sion hath no breasts Distressed Sion more unhappie farre Than Dragons savage Beasts or Tygers are ELEG 4. DEath thou pursuest if from death thou flee Or if thou turnst thy flight Death followes thee Thy staffe of life is broke for want of bread Thy City pines and halfe thy Land is dead The son t' his father weepes makes fruitlesse moane The father weepes upon his weeping sonne The brother cals upon his pined brother And both come crying to their hungry mother The empty Babe in stead of milke drawes downe His Nurses teares well mingled with his owne Nor chaÌ„ge of place nor time with help supplys thee Abroad the Sword famine at home destroyes thee ELEG 5. EXcesse and Surfet now have left thy coast The lavish Guest now wants his greedie Host No wanton Cooke prepares his poynant meate To teach a saciate palate how to eate Now â—acchus pines and shakes his feeble knees And pamp'red Envie lookes as plumpe as Hee 's Discolour'd Ceres that was once so faire Hath lost her beauty â—indg'd her golden haire Thy Princes mourne in rags asham'd t' infold Their leaden spirits in a case of gold From place to place thy Statesmen wandring are On every dung-hill lies a man of warre ELEG 6. FOule Sodome and incestuous Gomorrow Had my destruction but ne're my sorrow Vengeance had mercy there Her hand did send A sharpe beginning but a sudden end Iustice was milde and with her hastie flashes They fell and sweetly slept in peacefull Ashes They felt no rage of an insulting Foe Nor Famins piching furie as I doe They had no sacred Temple to defile Or if they had they would have helpt to spoile They dy'd but once but I poore wretched I Die many deaths and yet have more to die ELEG 7. GOld from the Mint Milke from the uberous Cow Was ne're so pure in substance nor in show As were my Nazarites whose inward graces Adorn'd the outward lustre of their faces Their faces robb'd the Lilly and the Rose Of red and white more faire more sweet then those Their bodies were the magazines of perfection Their skins vnblemisht were of pure complexion Through which their Saphire-colour'd veines descride The Azure beauty of their naked pride The flaming Carbuncle was not so bright Nor yet the rare discolour'd Chrysolite ELEG 8. HOw are my sacred Nazarites that were The blazing Planets of my glorious Sphaere Obscur'd and darkned in Afflictions cloud Astonisht at their owne disguize they shrowd Their foule transformed shapes in the dull shade Of sullen darknesse of themselves afraid See how the brother gazes on the brother And both affrighted start and flie each other Blacke as their Fates they cross the streets unkend The Sire his Son The friend disclaimes his frend They they that were the flowers of my Land Like withered Weeds and blasted Hemlocke stand ELEG 9. IMpetuous Famine Sister to the Sword Left hand of Death Childe of th' infernall Lord Thou Tort'rer of Mankind that with one stroake Subject'st the world to thy imperious yoake What pleasure tak'st thou in the tedious breath Of pined Mortals or their lingring death The Sword thy generous brother 's not so cruell He kills but once fights in a noble Duell But thou malicious Furie dost extend Thy spleene to all whose death can find no end Alas my haplesse weale can want no woe That feeles the rage of Sword and famine too ELEG 10. KInde is that death whose weapons do but kill But we are often slaine yet dying still Our torments are too gentle yet too rough They gripe too hard because not hard enough My people teare their trembling flesh for food
And froÌ„ their ragged wounds they suck forth blood The father dies and leaves his pined Coarse T' inrich his Heire with meat The hungry Nurse Broyles her starv'd suckling on the hastie coales Devoures one halfe and hides the rest in holes O Tyrant Famine that compell'st the Mother To kill one hungry Childe to feed another ELEG 11. LAment O sad Ierusalem lament O weepe if all thy teares be yet unspent Weepe wasted Iudâ—h let no drop be kept Vnshed let not one teare be left unwept For angry heaven hath nothing left undone To bring thy ruines to perfection No curse no plague the fierce Almighty hath Kept backe to summe the totall of his wrath Thy Citie burnes thy Sion is dispoyld Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maides defil'd Famine at home the Sword abroad destroyes thee Thou cry'st to heav'n heav'n his â—are denies thee ELEG 12. MAy thy dull senses O unhappy Nation Possest with nothing now but desolation Collect their scatter'd forces and behold Thy novell fortunes ballanc'd with the old Couldst thou ô could thy prosp'rous heart coÌ„ceive That mortall powre or art of State could reive Thy ' illustrious Empire of her sacred glory And make her ruines the Threnâ—dian story Of these sad times and ages yet to be Envie could pine but never hope to see Thy buildings crusht and all that glory ended Which Man so fortifyde and Heav'n defended ELEG 13. NE're had the splendor of thy bright renowne Beene thus extinguisht ludah Thy fast Crowne Had ne're beene spurn'd from thy Imperiall brow Plenty had nurs'd thy soule thy peacefull plough Had fill'd thy fruitfull Quarters with encrease Hadst thou but knowne thy selfe and loved peace But thou hast broke that sacred truce concluded Betwixt thy God and thee vainly deluded Thy selfe with thine own strength with deadly feud Thy furious Priests and Prophets have pursude The mourning Saints of Sion and did sâ—ay All such as were more just more pure then they ELEG 14. O How the Priests of Sion whose pure light Should shine to such as grope in Errors night And blaze like Lampâ— before the darkned eye Of Ignorance to raise up those that lie In dull despaire and guide those feet that strey Ay me How blinde how darke how dull are they Fierce rage fury drives them through the street And like to mad men stabbe at all they meet They weare the purple Livery of Death And live themselves by drawing others breath Say wasted Sion could Revenge behold So foule an acted Scene as this and hold ELEG 15. PRophets and sacred Priests whose tongues whilere Did often whisper in th'Eternalls eare Disclos'd his Oracles found ready passage Twixt God and Man to carry heavens Embassage Are now the subjects of deserved scorne Of God forsaken and of man forlorne Accursed Gentiles are asham'd to know What Sions Priests are not asham'd to doe They see and blush and blushing flee away Fearing to touch things so defil'd as they They hate the filth of their abomination And chace them forth from their new conquer'd nation ELEG 16. QVite banisht from the joyes of earth and smiles Of heaven and deeply buried in her spoiles Poore Iudah lies unpitied disrespected Exil'd the World of God of Man rejected Like blasted eares among the fruitfull wheat She roames disperst and hath no certaine seat Her servile neck 's subjected to the yoake Of bondage open to th' impartiall stroake Of conquering Gentiles whose afflicting hand Smites every nooke of her disguised Land Of Youth respectlesse nor regarding Yeeres Nor Sex nor Tribe like scourging Prince Peers ELEG 17. REnt and deposed from Imperiall state â—y heavens high hand on heaven we must await To him that struck our sorrowes must appeale Where heaven hath smitâ— no hand of man can heale In vaine our wounds expected mans reliefe For disappointed hopes renew a griefe Aegypt opprest us in our fathers loynes What hope 's in Aegypt Nay if Aegypt joynes Her force with Iudah our united powres Could nere prevaile 'gainst such a foe as our's Aegypt that once did feele heavens scourge for grieving His flock would now refinde it for reliving ELEG 18. SO the quick-sented Beagles in a view O're hill and dale the fleeing Chase pursue As swift-foot Death and Ruine follow me That flees afraid yet knowes not where to flee Flee to the fields There with the sword I meet And like a Watch Death stands in every street No covert hides from death no Shade no Cells So darke wherein not Death and Horror dwells Our dayes are numbred and our number 's done The empty Houre-glasse of our glorie 's run Our sins are summ'd and so extreame 's the score That heauen could not doe lesse nor hell do more ELEG 19. TO what a downfall are our fortunes come Subjected to the suffrance of a doome Whose lingring torments Hell could not conspire More sharp than which hell needs no other fire How nimble are our Foemen to betray Our soules Eagles are not so swift as they Where shall we flee Or where shall sorrow finde A place for harbour Ah what prosp'rous winde Will lend a gale whose bounty ne're shall cease Till we be landed on the I le of peace My foes more fierce than empty Lions are For hungry Lions woo'd with teares will spare ELEG 20. VSurping Gentiles rudely have engrost Into their hands those fortunes we have lost Devoure the fruits that purer hands did plant Are plump and pampred with that bread we want And what is worse than death a Tyrant treads Vpon our Throne Pagans adorne their heads With our lost crowns their powers have dis-jointed The Members of our State and Heavens Anointed Their hands have crusht ravisht from his throne And made a Slave for Slaves to tread upon Needs must that flock be scattred and accurst where wolves have dar'd to seize the Shepherd first ELEG 21. WAxe fat with laughing Edom with glad eies Behold the fulnesse of our miseries Triumph thou Type of Antichrist and feed Thy soule with joy to see thy brothers â—eed Ruin'd and rent and rooted from the earth Make haste and solace thee with early mirth But there 's a time shall teachâ—thee how to weepe As many teares as I thy lips as deepe Shall drinke in sorrowes Cup as mine have done Till then cheere up thy spirits and laugh on Offended Iustice often strikes by turnes Edom â—eware for thy next neighbour burnes ELEG 22. YE drooping sonnes of Sion O arise And shut the flood-gates of your flowing eyes Surcease your sorrowes and your joyes attend For heaven hath spoke it and your griefes â—â—al end Beleeve it Sion seeke no curious signe And wait heav'ns pleasure as heav'n waited thine And thou triumphing Edâ—m that dost lye In beds of Roses thou whose prosp'rous eye Did smile to see the Gates of Sion fall Shalt be subjected to the selfe-fame thrall Sion that weepes shall smile and Edoms eye That smiles so fast as fast shall shortly cry The Prophet Ieremie his
that Quire Of endlesse joy fill'd with coelestiall fire Pardon my teares that in their passion would Recall thee from thy Kingdome if they could Pardon O pardon my distracted zeale Which if condemn'd by reason must appeale To thee whose now lamented death whose end Confirm'd the deare affection of a friend Permit me then to offer at thy herse These fruitles teares which if they prove to fierce O pardon you that know the price of friends For teares are just that nature recommends ELEG 18. SO may the faire aspect of pleased heaven Conforme my noone of daies crowne their even So may the gladder smiles of earth present My fortunes with the height of joâ—s content As I lament with unaffected breath Our losse deare Ailmer in thy happy death May the false teare that 's forc'd or slides by Art That hath no warrant from the soule the heart Or that exceeds not natures faint commission Or dares unvented come to composition O may that teare in stricter judgement rise Against those false those faint those flattring eyes ELEG 19. THus to the world and to the spacious eares Of fame I bâ—azon my unboasted teares Thus to thy sacred dust thy Vrne thy Herse I consecrate my sighes my teares my verse Thus to thy soule thy name thy just desert I offer up my joy my love my heart That earth may know and every eare that heares True worth and griefe were parents to my teares That earth may know thy dust thy Vrne thy herse Brought forth bred my sighes my teares my verse And that thy soule thy name thy just desert Invites incites my joy my love my heart ELEG 20. VNconstant earth why doe not mortalls cease To build their hopes upon so short a lease Vncertaine lease whose terme but once begun Tells never when it ends till it be done We dote upon thy smiles not knowing why And whiles we but prepare to live we dye We spring like flowers for a daies delight At noone we flourish and we â—ade at night We toile for kingdomes conquer Crownes then We that were Gods but now now lesse than men If wisdome learning knowlege cannot dwell Secure from change vaine bubble earth farewell ELEG 21. WOuldst thou when death had done deserve a story Should staine the memory of great Pompeyes glory Conquer thy selfe example be thy guide Dye just as our selfe-conquering Ailmer dyde Woldst thou subdue more kingdoÌ„es gain mo crowns Than that brave Hero Caesar conquer'd townes Then conquer death Example be thy guide Die just as our death-conquering Ailmer dyde But woldst thou win more worlds than he had done Kingdomes that all the earth hath over-runne Then conquer heaven example be thy guide Die just as our heaven-conquering Ailmer dyde ELEG 22. YEares fully laden with their months attend Th' expired times acquitance and so end Months gone their dates of numbered daies require Bright Cynâ—â—ia's full discharge and so expire Dayes deepely ag'd with houres lose their light And having runne their stage conclude with night And howers chac'd with light-foot minutes flye Tending their labour to a new supply Yet Ailmers glory never shall diminish Though yeares and months though daies howers finish Yet Ailmers joyes for ever shall extend Though yeares months though daies and howers end FINIS Dâ—loris nullus His Epitaph ASke you why so many a teare Bursts forth I 'le tell you in your eare Compell me not to speake aloud Death would then be too too proud Eyes that cannot vye a teare Forbeare to aske you may not heare Gentle hearts that overflow Have onely priviledge to know In these sacred ashes then Know Reader that a man of men Lyes covered Fame and lasting glory Make deare mention of his story Nature when she gave him birth Op'd her treasure to the earth Put forth the modell of true merit Quickned with a higher spirit Rare was his life His latest breath Saw and scorn'd and conquer'd death Thanklesse Reader never more Vrge a why when teares runne ore When you saw so high a Tyde You might haue knowne 't was Ailmer dyde Obijt Ian. vj. MDCXXV Vivet post funera Virtus * Sensible graves * Pure in heart * The Kingdome of Heaven * Through apparant infirmities * Glorious in him * Weaknesse of the flesh * Afflictions * 〈◊〉 to Idolatrous superstitions * By reason of my â—â—â—â—nesse * Being seduced by false Prophets * Persecutions * By Idolatry * Thâ—ough my merits and thy sanctification * The Doctrine of the true Prophets * Teacher of my Congregations * Thy most visible parts * Sanctification * The riches of his holy Spirit * The holy Prophets * Thy holy Spirit * In giving grace and receiving glory * The Congregation of Saints * In inward graces * 〈◊〉 is outword glorie * The holy Scriptures * Thy sweet promises * 〈◊〉 imperfections of my present state * The weakenesse of my flesh * The Elect. * Angels * The Congregation of the faithfull * To offer up the first 〈◊〉 of obedience * â— Persecutions * The day of Iudgement * 〈◊〉 sanctification * 〈◊〉 my soule * By strict examination * Amongst the wisest worldlings * The Ministers of the word * At the resurrection * Through sanctification by my merits * â—y heavenly contemplation * Through the gifts of my spirit * The modestie and purity of thy judgement * Ornaments of necessary Ceremonies * Sincere Ministers * Doctrine of thy holy Prophets * Modest graces of the â—pirit * Magistrates * The old and new Testaments * The sanctified zealous Reader * The second death * I will withdraw my bodily presence * The day of judgement * Infirmities of the flesh * This vale of miserie * Thine eye of Faith * Divine Harmonie * The two Testaments * Riddles to prophane Readers * Celestiall comforts * â—he faithfull * The Sunne of righteousnesse * Obedience * Strong workes of Faith * The new fruits of the Spirit * Toâ— much securitie * My heart * The pleasures of the Flesh. * Thy hard-hearted unkindenesse * â—â—pented * The sweetnesse of his graces * False teachers * With their false doctrines * Divine Love * His Dietie * His Humanitie * His judgements and care of his Church * The discovery of him in his word * His promises * Those that die to sinne * That live to righteousnesse * His actins * With purenesse * His secret counsells * Inwardly glorious * His waies constant firme and pure * His whole carriage * The Church is the way to Christ. * Congregation of the faithfull * Giving graces * Receiving glory * Despairing soules * Not yet thorowly humbled * Strengthning the weake in spirit * The force of repentance * Sincere Ministers * Thy visible parts * Modestie and zeale * The pure in heaâ—t * My Spirit * Securitie * Worldly pleasures * Thy wayes * The girdle of truth * The precious gifts of the Spirit * Thereby there is a receipt of spirituall Conceptions * Increase of the faithfull * The old and new Testament * Magistrates * Teachers * Glorious in all parts * The Ceremonies of the Church * Despairing soules * Young Converts * Opposers of the Truth * Congregation of the faithfull * By affliction * Young Convers. * Assemblies * Faithfull * Faith and good workes * The universall Church * Teares and sorrowes * Not to vexe and grieve his holy Spirit * In humility * The Church of the Gentiles then uncalled * Vncall'd to the truth * In the great Congregation * The penitent * The presumptuous
O strange Divinity but sung by rote Sweete is the tune but in a wider note The Morall sayes All Wisedome that is given To hood-wink't mortals first proceeds from heaveÌ„ Truth 's errour Wisedom's but wise insolence And light 's but darknesse not deriv'd from thence Wisedom's a straine transcends Morality No Vertu 's absent Wisedome being by Vertue by constant practice is acquir'd This this by sweat unpurchas't is inspir'd The master-piece of knowledge is to know But what is good from what is good in show And there it rests Wisedome proceeds and chuses The seeming evill th' apparent good refuses Knowledge descries alone Wisedome applies That makes some fooles this maketh none but wise The curious hand of knowledge doth but picke â—are simples wisdome pounds them for the sicke In my afflictions knowledge apprehends Who is the Author what the Cause and Ends It findes that Patience is my sad reliefe And that the hand that caus'd can cure my griefe To rest contented here is but to bring Cloudes without raine and heat without a Spring What hope arises hence The Devils doe The very same They know and tremble too But sacred Wisdome doth apply that good Which simple knowledge barely understood Wisedome concludes and in conclusion proves That wheresoever God corrects he loves Wisedome digests what knowledge did but tast That deales in futures this in things are past Wisdome's the Card of knowledge which without That Guide at random's wreck't on every doubt Knowledge when wisdome is too weak to guide her Is like a head-strong horse that throwes the rider Which made that great Philosopher avow He knew so much that he did nothing know Lord give me Wisedome to direct my wayes I beg nor riches nor yet length of dayes O grant thy servant Wisedome and with it I shall receive such knowledge as will fit To serve my turne I wish not Phoebus waine Without his skill to drive it lest I gaine Too deare an Honour Lord I will not stay To picke more Manna then will serve to day THE ARGVMENT Bildad the whil'st he makes a show To strike the wicked gives the blow To Iob Iobs misery and faith Zophar makes good what Bildad saith Sect. 12. SAid Bildad then When will yee bring to end The speeches whereabout ye so contend Waigh eithers words lest ignorant confusion Debarre them of their purposed conclusion We came to comfort fits it then that wee Be thought as beasts or fooles accounted bee But thou Iob like a madman would'st thou force God to desist his order and set course Of Iustice shall the wicked for thy sake That would'st not taste of evill in good partake No no his Lampe shall blaze and dye his strength Shall faile and shall confound it selfe at length He shall be hampred with close hidden snares And dog'd where e're he starts with troops of fears Hunger shall bite destruction shall attend him His skin shall rot the worst of deaths shal end him His feare shall bee a thousand linkt together His branch above his roote beneath shall wither His name shall sleepe in dust in dust decay Odious to all by all men chas't away No Son shall keepe alive his House his Name And none shall thrive that can alliance clame The after-age shall stand amaz'd to heare His fall and they that see 't shall shake for feare Thus stands the state of hâ—m that doth amisse And Iob what other is thy case then this But Iob reply'd how long as with sharp swords Will ye torment me with your pointed words How often have your biting tongues defam'd My simple Innocence and yet unshamâ—d Had I deserv'd these plagues yet let my gâ—iefe Expresse it selfe though it find no reliefe But if you needs must weare your tongues upon me Know 'T is the hand of God hath overthrowne me I roare unheard his hand will not release me The more I grieve the more my griefs oppress me He hath despoyl'd my joyes and goes about My branches being lopt to story the Root His plagues like souldiers trench within my bones My friends my kinred flye me all at once My neighbors my â—amiliars have forgone me My houshold stares with strangers eyes upon me I call my servant but his lips are dumbe I humbly begg his helpe but hee 'l not come My own wife loaths my breath though I did make â—y solemne suit for our dead childrens sake The poor whose wants I have supply'd despise me And he that liv'd within my brest denyes me My bones are hide-bound there cannot be found One piece of skin vnlesse my gums that 's sound Alas complaints are barren shadowes to Expresse or cure the substance of my woe Have pity oh my friends have pitty on me 'T is your Gods hand and mine that lyes upon me Vexe me no more O let your anger be If I have wrong'd you calm'd with what yee see O! that my speeches were ingraven then In Marble Tablets with an yron Pen For sure I am that my Redeemer lives And though pale death consume my flesh and gives My Carkas to the wormes yet am I sure Clad with this self-same flesh but made more pure I shall behold His glory These sad eyes Shall see his Face how-e're my body lyes Mouldred in dust These fleshly eyes that doe Behold these Sores shall see my Maker too Vnequall hearers of unequall griefe Y' are all ingag'd to the selfeâ—same beliefe Know there 's a Iudge whose voyce will be as free To judge your words as you have judged me Said Zophâ—r then I purpos'd to refraine From speaking but thou mov'st me backe againe For having heard thy haughty spirit breake Such hasty termes my spirit bids me speake Hath not the change of Ages and of Climes Taught us as we shall our succeeding times How vain 's the triumph and how short the blaze Wherein the wicked sweeten out their dayes Though for a while his Palmes of glory flourish Yet in conclusion they grow sere and perish His life is like a Dreame that passes o're The eye that saw him ne're shall see him more The Sonne shall flattter whom the Syre opprest And poore he shall returne what he did wrest He shall be bayted with the sinnes that have So smil'd upon his Child-hood to his Grave His plenty purchas 't by oppression shall Be honey tasted but digested Gall It shall not blesse him with prolonged stay But evilly come it soone shall passe away The Man whose griping hath the poore opprest Shall neither thrive in state nor yet find rest In soule nought of his fulnesse shall remaine His greedy Heire shall long expect in vaine Soak't with extorted plenty others shall Squeeze him and leave him dispossest of all And when his joyes doe in their height a bound Vengeance shall strike him groaning to the ground If Swords forbeare to wound him Arrowes shall Returning forth anoynted with his Gall No shade shall hide him and an unblowne Fyer Shall burne both him and his Heav'n like a Cryer