To him that of thy prescence is bereft Absented from thy favour what remaines But sense and sad remembrance of my paines Yet hath affliction op'ned my dull eare And taught me what in weale I ne're could heare Her scourge hath tutor'd me with sharpe corrections And swag'd the swelling of my proud affections Till now I slumbred in a prosp'rous dreame From wheÌ„ce awak'd my griefes are more extreame Hopes newly quickned have my soule assur'd That griefes discover'd are one halfe recur'd ELEG 8. HAd not the milder hand of mercy broke The furious violence of that fatall stroke Offended Iustice strucke we had beene quite Lost in the shadowes of eternall night Thy mercy Lord is like the morning Sunne Whose beames undoe what sable night hath done Or like a streame the current of whose course Restrain'd a while runs with a swifter force Oh let me swelter in those sacred beames And after bathe me in these silver streames To thee alone my sorrowes shall appeale Hath earth a wound too hard for heaven to heale ELEG 9. IN thee deare Lord my pensive soule respires Thou art the fulnesse of my choice desires Thou art that sacred Spring whose waters burst In streames to him that seekes with holy thirst Thrice happy man thrice happy thirst to bring The fainting soule to so so sweet a spring Thrice happy he whose well resolved brest Expects no other aide no other rest Thrice happie he whose downie age had bin Reclaim'd by scourges from the prime of sin And early season'd with the taste of Truth Remembers his Creator in his youth ELEG 10. KNowledge concomitates Heavens painefull rod â— eaches the soule to know her selfe her GOD Vnseiles the eye of Faith presents a morrow Of joy within the â—ablest night of sorrow Th' afflicted soule abounds in barest need Sucks purest honie from the foulest weed Detests that good which pamp'red reason likes Welcomes the stroke kisses the hand that strikes In roughest Tides his well-prepared brest Vntoucht with danger findes aâ— haven of rest Hath all in all when most of all bereaven In earth a hell in hell he findes a Heaven ELEG 11. LAbour perfected with the evening ends The lampe of heaven his course fulfill'd descends Can workes of nature seeke and finde a rest And shall the torments of a troubled brest Impos'd by Natures all-commanding GOD Ne're know an end ne're finde a period Deare soule despaire not whet thy dull beliefe With hope heavens mercy will o'recome thy griefe From thee not him proceeds thy punishment Hee 's slow to wrath and speedy to relent Thou burnst like gold consumest not like fuell O wrong not Heaven to thinke that Heaven is cruell ELEG 12. MOuntaines shall move the Sun his circling course Shall stop Tridented Neptuae shall divorce Th' embracing floods from their beloved Iles Ere heaven forgets his servant and recoyles From his eternall vow Those those that bruise His broken reeds or secretly abuse The doubtfull Title of a rightfull Cause Or with false bribes adulterat the Lawes That should be chaste these these th' Almightie hath Branded for subjects of a future wrath Oh may the just man know th' Eternall hastens His plagues for trialls loves the child he chastens ELEG 13. NO mortall power nor supernall might Not Lucifer nor no infernall spright Nor all together joyn'd in one commission Can thinke or act without divine permission Man wils Heaven breathes successe or not upon it What good what evill befals but heaven hath done it Vpon his right hand Health and Honors stand And flaming Scourges on the other hand Since then the States of good or evill depend Vpon his will fond mortall thou attend Vpon his Wisdome Why should living Dust Complaine on Heaven because that Heaven is just ELEG 14. O Let the ballance of our even pois'd hearts Weigh our afflictions with our just deserts And ease our heavie scale Double the graines We take from sinne Heaven taketh from our pains Oh let thy lowly-bended eyes not feare Th' Almighties frownes nor husband one poore teare Be prodigall in sighes and let thy â—ongue Thy tongue estrang'd to heaven cry all night long My soule thou leav'st what thy Creator did Will thee to doe hast done what he forbid This this hath made so great a strangenesse bee If not divorce betwixt thy GOD and thee ELEG 15. PRepar'd to vengeance and resolv'd to spoile Thy hand just GOD hath taken in thy toile Our wounded soules That arme which hath forgot His wonted mercy kills and spareth not Our crimes have set a barre betwixt thy Grace And us thou hast eclipst thy glorious face Hast stopt thy gracious eare lest prayers enforce done Thy tender Heart to pity and remorse See see great GOD what thy deare hand hath We lie like drosse when all the gold is gone Contemn'd despis'd and like to Atomes flye Before the Sunne the scorne of every eye ELEG 16. QVotidian fevers of reproach and shame Have chill'd our Honor and renowned Name We are become the by-word and the scorne Of Heaven and Earth of heaven earth forlorne Our captiv'd soules are compast round about Within with troopes of feares of foes without Without within distrest and in conclusion We are the haplesse children of confusion Oh how mine eyes the rivers of mine eyes O'reflow these barren lips that can devise No Dialect that can expresse or borrow Sufficient Metaphors to shew my sorrow ELEG 17. RIvers of marish teares have over-flowne My blubber'd cheeks my tongue can find no Tone So sharpe as silence to bewaile that woe Whose flowing Tides an Ebbe could never know Weepe on mine eyes mine eyes shall never cease Speake on my Tongue forget to hold thy peace Cease not thy teares close not thy lips so long Til heaven shal wipe thine eles heare thy tongue What heart of brasse what Adamantine brest Can know the torments of my soule and rest What stupid braine ah me what marble eye Can see these these my ruines and not cry ELEG 18. SO hath the Fowler with his slye deceits Beguil'd the harmelesse bird so with false baits The treach'rous Angler strikes his nibbling prey Even so my Foes my guiltlesse soule betray So have my fierce pursuers with close wiles Inthralled me and gloried in my spoiles Where undermining plots could not prevaile There mischiefe did with strength of arme assaile Thus in afflictions troubled billowes tost I live but t is a life worse had than lost Thus thus o'rewhelm'd my secret soule doth cry I am destroy'd and there 's no helper nigh ELEG 19. THou great Creator whose diviner breath Preserves thy Creature joyst not in his death Looke downe from thy eternall Throne that art The onely Rocke of a despairing heart Looke downe from Heaven O thou whose tender eare Once heard the trickling of one single teare How art thou now estranged from his cry That sends forth Rivers from his fruitfull eye How often hast thou with a gentle arme Rais'd me from death and bid
And froÌ„ their ragged wounds they suck forth blood The father dies and leaves his pined Coarse T' inrich his Heire with meat The hungry Nurse Broyles her starv'd suckling on the hastie coales Devoures one halfe and hides the rest in holes O Tyrant Famine that compell'st the Mother To kill one hungry Childe to feed another ELEG 11. LAment O sad Ierusalem lament O weepe if all thy teares be yet unspent Weepe wasted Iudâ—h let no drop be kept Vnshed let not one teare be left unwept For angry heaven hath nothing left undone To bring thy ruines to perfection No curse no plague the fierce Almighty hath Kept backe to summe the totall of his wrath Thy Citie burnes thy Sion is dispoyld Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maides defil'd Famine at home the Sword abroad destroyes thee Thou cry'st to heav'n heav'n his â—are denies thee ELEG 12. MAy thy dull senses O unhappy Nation Possest with nothing now but desolation Collect their scatter'd forces and behold Thy novell fortunes ballanc'd with the old Couldst thou ô could thy prosp'rous heart coÌ„ceive That mortall powre or art of State could reive Thy ' illustrious Empire of her sacred glory And make her ruines the Threnâ—dian story Of these sad times and ages yet to be Envie could pine but never hope to see Thy buildings crusht and all that glory ended Which Man so fortifyde and Heav'n defended ELEG 13. NE're had the splendor of thy bright renowne Beene thus extinguisht ludah Thy fast Crowne Had ne're beene spurn'd from thy Imperiall brow Plenty had nurs'd thy soule thy peacefull plough Had fill'd thy fruitfull Quarters with encrease Hadst thou but knowne thy selfe and loved peace But thou hast broke that sacred truce concluded Betwixt thy God and thee vainly deluded Thy selfe with thine own strength with deadly feud Thy furious Priests and Prophets have pursude The mourning Saints of Sion and did sâ—ay All such as were more just more pure then they ELEG 14. O How the Priests of Sion whose pure light Should shine to such as grope in Errors night And blaze like Lampâ— before the darkned eye Of Ignorance to raise up those that lie In dull despaire and guide those feet that strey Ay me How blinde how darke how dull are they Fierce rage fury drives them through the street And like to mad men stabbe at all they meet They weare the purple Livery of Death And live themselves by drawing others breath Say wasted Sion could Revenge behold So foule an acted Scene as this and hold ELEG 15. PRophets and sacred Priests whose tongues whilere Did often whisper in th'Eternalls eare Disclos'd his Oracles found ready passage Twixt God and Man to carry heavens Embassage Are now the subjects of deserved scorne Of God forsaken and of man forlorne Accursed Gentiles are asham'd to know What Sions Priests are not asham'd to doe They see and blush and blushing flee away Fearing to touch things so defil'd as they They hate the filth of their abomination And chace them forth from their new conquer'd nation ELEG 16. QVite banisht from the joyes of earth and smiles Of heaven and deeply buried in her spoiles Poore Iudah lies unpitied disrespected Exil'd the World of God of Man rejected Like blasted eares among the fruitfull wheat She roames disperst and hath no certaine seat Her servile neck 's subjected to the yoake Of bondage open to th' impartiall stroake Of conquering Gentiles whose afflicting hand Smites every nooke of her disguised Land Of Youth respectlesse nor regarding Yeeres Nor Sex nor Tribe like scourging Prince Peers ELEG 17. REnt and deposed from Imperiall state â—y heavens high hand on heaven we must await To him that struck our sorrowes must appeale Where heaven hath smitâ— no hand of man can heale In vaine our wounds expected mans reliefe For disappointed hopes renew a griefe Aegypt opprest us in our fathers loynes What hope 's in Aegypt Nay if Aegypt joynes Her force with Iudah our united powres Could nere prevaile 'gainst such a foe as our's Aegypt that once did feele heavens scourge for grieving His flock would now refinde it for reliving ELEG 18. SO the quick-sented Beagles in a view O're hill and dale the fleeing Chase pursue As swift-foot Death and Ruine follow me That flees afraid yet knowes not where to flee Flee to the fields There with the sword I meet And like a Watch Death stands in every street No covert hides from death no Shade no Cells So darke wherein not Death and Horror dwells Our dayes are numbred and our number 's done The empty Houre-glasse of our glorie 's run Our sins are summ'd and so extreame 's the score That heauen could not doe lesse nor hell do more ELEG 19. TO what a downfall are our fortunes come Subjected to the suffrance of a doome Whose lingring torments Hell could not conspire More sharp than which hell needs no other fire How nimble are our Foemen to betray Our soules Eagles are not so swift as they Where shall we flee Or where shall sorrow finde A place for harbour Ah what prosp'rous winde Will lend a gale whose bounty ne're shall cease Till we be landed on the I le of peace My foes more fierce than empty Lions are For hungry Lions woo'd with teares will spare ELEG 20. VSurping Gentiles rudely have engrost Into their hands those fortunes we have lost Devoure the fruits that purer hands did plant Are plump and pampred with that bread we want And what is worse than death a Tyrant treads Vpon our Throne Pagans adorne their heads With our lost crowns their powers have dis-jointed The Members of our State and Heavens Anointed Their hands have crusht ravisht from his throne And made a Slave for Slaves to tread upon Needs must that flock be scattred and accurst where wolves have dar'd to seize the Shepherd first ELEG 21. WAxe fat with laughing Edom with glad eies Behold the fulnesse of our miseries Triumph thou Type of Antichrist and feed Thy soule with joy to see thy brothers â—eed Ruin'd and rent and rooted from the earth Make haste and solace thee with early mirth But there 's a time shall teachâ—thee how to weepe As many teares as I thy lips as deepe Shall drinke in sorrowes Cup as mine have done Till then cheere up thy spirits and laugh on Offended Iustice often strikes by turnes Edom â—eware for thy next neighbour burnes ELEG 22. YE drooping sonnes of Sion O arise And shut the flood-gates of your flowing eyes Surcease your sorrowes and your joyes attend For heaven hath spoke it and your griefes â—â—al end Beleeve it Sion seeke no curious signe And wait heav'ns pleasure as heav'n waited thine And thou triumphing Edâ—m that dost lye In beds of Roses thou whose prosp'rous eye Did smile to see the Gates of Sion fall Shalt be subjected to the selfe-fame thrall Sion that weepes shall smile and Edoms eye That smiles so fast as fast shall shortly cry The Prophet Ieremie his
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—
try'd Yet hath his boldnesse termâ—d himselfe upright And tax't th' Almighty for not doing right His Innocence with Heaven doth he plead And that unjustly he was punished O Purity by Impudence suborn'd He scorn'd his Maker and is justly scorn'd Farre be it from the heart of man that He Who is all Iustice yet unjust should be Each one shall reape the harvest he hath sowne His meed shall measure what his hands hath done Who is 't can claim the Worlds great Soveraignty Who rais'd the Rafters of the Heavens but He If God should breathe on man or take away The breath he gave him what were man but Clay O let thy heart th' unbridled tongue conuince Say Dare thy lips defame an earthly Prince How darst thou then maligne the King of Kings To whom great Princes are but poorest things He kicks down kingdoms spurns th'emperial crown And with his blast puffes mighty Monarchs down 'T is vaine to strive with him and if he strike Our part 's to beare not fondly to mislike Misconstruing the nature of his drift But husband his corrections to our thrift If he afflict our best is to implore His â—lessing with his Rod and sin no more What if our torments passe the bounds of measure It unbefits our wils to stint his pleasure Iudge then and let th' impartiall world advise How farre poore Iob thy judgement is from wise Nor are these speeches kindled with the fire Of a distempred spleene but with desire T' inrich thy wisdome lest thy fury tye Presumption to thy rash infirmity Meditat. 16. FOr mortals to be borne waxe old and dye Lyes not in Will but bare Necessity Common to beasts which in the selfe degree Hold by the selfe-same Patient even as we But to be wiâ—e is a diviner action Of the discursive Soule a pure abstraction Of all her powers united in the Will Ayming at Good rejecting what is Ill It is an Influence of inspired breath Vnpurchased by birth unlost by death Entail'd to no man no not free to all Yet gently answers to the eager cal Of those that with inflam'd affections seeke Respecting tender youth and age alike In depth of dayes her spirit not alway lyes Yeeres make man Old but heaven returnes him Wise Youths Innocence nor riper ages strength Can challenge her as due Desired length Of dayes produced to decrepit yeeres Fill'd with experience and grizly hayres Can claime no right th' Almighty ne're engages His gifts to times nor is he bound to Ages His quickning Spirit to sucklings oft reveales What to their doting Grandsires he conceales The vertue of his breath can unbenumme The frozen lips and strike the speaker dumme Who put that moving power into his tongue Whose lips did right the chast Susanna's wrong Vpon her wanton false Accusers death What secret fire inflam'd that fainting breath That blasted Pharo Or those ruder tongues That schoold the faithlesse Prophet for the wrongs He did to sacred Iustice matters not How sleight the meane be in it selfe or what In our esteemes so wisedome be the message Embassadours are worthied in th'Embassage God sowes his harvest to his best increase And glorifies himselfe how e're he please Lord if thou wilt for what is hard to thee I may a Factour for thy glory bee Then grant that like a faithfull servant I May render backe thy stocke with Vsury THE ARGVMENT God reapes no gaine by mans best deeds Mans misery from himselfe proceeds Gods Mercy and Iustice are unbounded In workes of Nature man is grounded Sect. 17. ELihu thus his pausing lips againe Disclos'd said rash Ioâ— dost thou maintaine A rightfull cause which in conclusion must A vow thee blamelesse and thy God unjust Thy lawlesse words implying that it can Advantage none to live an upright man My tongue shall schoole thee and thy friends that would Perchance refell thy reasons if they could Behold thy glorious Makers greatnesse see The power of his hand say then can He Be damag'd by thy sinne or can He raise Advantage by the uprightnesse of thy wayes True the afflicted languish oft in griefe And roare to heaven unanswer'd for reliefe Yet is not Heaven unjust for their fond cry Their sinne bewailes not but their misery Cease then to make him guilty of thy crimes And waite his pleasure that 's not bound to times Nor heares vaine words The sorrowes thou art in Are sleight or nothing ballanc'd with thy sin Thy lips accuse thee and thy foolish tongue To right thy selfe hath done th' Almighty wrong Hold back thine answer let thy flowing streame Find passage to surround my fruitfull Theame I 'le raise my thoughts to plead my Makers case And speake as shall befit so high a place Behold th' Almighitie's meeke as well as strong Destroyes the wicked rights the just mans wrong Mounts him to honour If by chance he stray Instructs and shewes him where he lost his way If he returne his blessing shall encrease Crowning his joyes with plenty and sweet peace If not th' intailed sword shall ne're depart His stained house but pierce his hardned heart Ah sinfull Iob these plagues had never bin Had'st thou beene guiltlesse as thou boasts of sin But thy proud lips against their Maker plead And draw downe heapes of vengeance on thy head Looke to thy selfe seek not to understand The secret causes of th' Eternals hand Let wisdome make the best of misery Know who inflicts it aske no reason why He will's beyond thy reach and his Divine And sacred knowledge farre surpasseth thine Ah! rather praise him in his workes that lye Wide open to the world before thine eye His meaner Acts our highest thoughts o'retops He pricks the clouds stils down the raine by drops Who comprehends the lightning or the thunder Who sees who heares theÌ„ unamaz'd with wonder My troubled heart chils in my quivering brest To relish these things and is dispossest Of all her powers who ever heard the voyce Of th' angry heavens unfrighted at the noyse The beast by nature daz'd with sudden dread Seekes out for covert to secure his head If God command the dusky clouds march forth Into a Tempest From the freezing North He beckens Frost and Snow and from the South He bloweth Whirlewinds with his angry Mouth Presumptuous Ioâ— if thou canst not aspire So high to comprehend these things admire Know'st thou the progresse of the rambling clouds From mortal eyes when gloomy darkness shrouds The lamps of heaven know'st thou the reason why Can'st thou unriddle heavens Philosophy Know'st thou th' unconstant nature of the weather Or whence so many Winds proceed and whither Wer 't thou made privy or a standerâ—by When God stretcht forth his spangled Canopy Submit thy selfe and let these secâ—ets teach How farre his Myst'ries doe surmount thy reach For Hee 's Almighty and his sacred will Is just nor renders an unearned ill His workes are objects for no soaring eyes But wheresoe're he lookes he findes none wise Meditat. 17. THe World
and what must then be done When time shal bring to light this promis'd sonne About that time when the declining Lampe Trebles each shadow when the evening dampe Begins to moisten and refresh the land The Wife of Manoah under whose command The weaned Lambes did feed being lowly seated Vpon a Shrubbe where often she repeated That pleasing newes the subject of her thought Appear'd the Angell he that lately brought Those blessed tidings to her up she rose Her second feare had warrant to dispose Her nimble foot-steps to unwonted haste She runnes with speed she cannot runne too fast At length she findes her husband In her eyes Were Ioy and Feare whilst her lost breath denies Her speech to him her trembling hands make signs She puffes and pants her breathlesse tongue disjoynes Her broken words Behold behold said she The man of God if man of God he be Appear'd againe These very eyes beheld The man of God I left him in our field Meditat. 3. HEav'n is Gods Magazen wherein he hath Stor'd up his Vials both of love and wrath Iustice and Mercy waite upon his Throne Favours and Thunderbolts attend upon His sacred Will and Pleasure Life and Death Doe both receive their influence from his breath Iudgements attend his left at his right hand Blessings and everlasting Pleasures stand Heav'n is the Magazen wherein he puts Both good and evill Pray'r is the key that shuts And opens this great Treasure T is a key Whose wards are Faith and Hope and Charity Wouldst thou prevent a judgement due to sinne Turne but the key and thou maist locke it in Or wouldst thou have a Blessing fall upon thee Open the doore and it will shower on thee Can Heav'n be false or can th' Almighties tongue That is all very truth doe truth that wrong Not to performe a vow His lips have sworne Sworne by himselfe that if a Sinner turne To him by pray'r his pray'r shall not be lost For want of eare nor his desier crost How is it then we often aske and have not We aske and often misse because we crave noâ— The things we should his wisdome can foresee Those blessings better that we want than weâ— Hast thou not heard a peevish Infant baule To gaine possession of a knife And shall Th' indulgent nurse bee counted wisely kinde If she be mov'd to please his childish minde Is it not greater wisdome to deny The sharp-edg'd knife and to present his eye With a fine harmlesse Puppit We require Things oft unfit and our too fond desire Fastens on goods that are but glorious ills Whilst Heav'ns high wisdome contradicts our wils With more advantage for we oft receive Things that are farre more fit for us to have Experience tels we seeke and cannot finde We seeke and often want because we binde The Giver to our times He knows we want Patience and therefore he suspends his grant T' encrease our faith that so we may depend Vpon his hand he loves to heare us spend Our childish mouthes Things easily obtain'd Are lowly priz'd but what our prayers have gain'd By teares and groanes that cannot be exprest Are farre more deare and sweeter when possest Great God! whose power hath so oft prevail'd Against the strength of Princes and hast quail'd Their prouder stomaks with thy breath discrown'd Their heads thrown their Scepters to the grouÌ„d Striking their swelling hearts with cold despaire How art thou conquer'd and o'recome by Pray'r Infuse that Spirit Great God into my heart And I will have a blessing ere we part THE ARGVMENT Manoah desires to know the fashion And breeding of his promis'd sonne To whom the Angel makes relation Of all things needfull to be done Sect. 4. WIth that the Danite rose and being guided By his perplexed wife they both divided Their heedlesse paces â—ill they had attain'd The field 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 of God remain'd And drawing â—eerer to hâ—s presence stai'd His weary steps and with obeysance said Art thou the 〈…〉 blessed lips â—oretold Those joyfull 〈◊〉 Shall my tongue be bold Without the breach of manners to request This boone Art thoâ—â— that Prophet that possest This barren woman with a hope that She Shall beare a Sonne He answer'd I am He Said Manoah then Let not a word of thine Be lost let them continue to divine Our future happinesse let them be crown'd With truth and thou with honour to be found A holy Prophet Let performance blesse And speed thy speeches with a faire successe But tell me Sir when this great worke is done And time shall bring to light this promis'd Sonne What sacred Ceremonies shall we use What Rites What way of bleeding shall we chuse T' observe What holy course of life shall be Be trained in What shall his Office be Whereat th' attentive Angel did divide The portall of his lips and thus replide The Child that from thy fruitfull loynes shall come Shall be a holy Nazarite from the wombe Take heed that wombe that shall inclose this Childe In no case be polluted or defilde With Law-forbidden meates Let her forbeare To taste those things that are forbidden there The bunch-back Camell shall be no repast For her Her palate shall forbeare to taste The burrow haunting Cony and decline The swiftfoote-Hare and mire-delighting Swine The griping Goshauke and the towring Eagle The party-coloured Pye must not inveigle Her lips to move the brood-devouring Kite The croaking Raven th' Owle that hates the light The steele-digesting Bird the laste Snaile The Cuckow ever telling of one tale The fish-consuming Osprey and the Want That undermines the greedy Cormorant Th' indulgent Pellican the predictious Crow The chattring Storke and ravenous Vulter too The thorn-backt Hedgehogge and the prating lay The Lapwing flying still the other way The lofty-flying Falkon and the Mouse That findes no pleasure in a poore mans house The suck-egge Weasell and the winding Swallow From these she shall abstaine and not unhallow Her op'ned lips with their polluted flesh Strong drinke she must forbeare and to refresh Her lingring palate with luâ—-breeding Wine The Grape or what proceedeth from the Vine She must not taste for feare she be defilde And so pollute her wombe-enclosed Childe When time shall make her mother of a Sonne Beware no keen-edg'd Raisor come upon His bâ—llowed Crowne the haire upon his head Must not be cut His bountious lockes must spred On his broad shoulders From his first drawne breath The Childe shall be a Nazarite to his death Meditat. 4. WHat shallow judgment or what easie braine Can choose but laugh at those that strive in vaine To build a Tower whose ambitious Spire Should reach to heaven what foole would not admire To see their greater folly who would raise A Tower to perpetuate the praise And lasting Glory of their renowned Name What have they lâ—ft but Monuments of shame How poore and slender are the enterprises Of man that onely whispers and advises With heedlesse flesh and blood and never
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
secret angle of the Land Which beares no marke of heavens enraged hand ELEG 4. â—Arts thrild from heaveÌ„ transfix my bleeding heart And fill my soule with everlasting smart Whose festring wound no fortune can recure Th' Almighty strikes but seldome but strikes sure His finowy arme hath drawne his steely bow And sent his forked shafts to overthrow My pined Princes and to ruinate The weakened Pillars of my wounded State His hand hath scourg'd my deare delights acquired My soule of all wherein my soule delighted I am the mirrour of unmasked sin To see her dearely purchas'd pleasures in ELEG 5. EVen as the Pilot whose sharpe Keele divides Th' encountring waves of the Cicilian Tides Tost on the listâ— of death striving to scape The danger of deepe mouth'd Chaâ—ybdis rape Reâ—uts on Scyâ—â—a with a forc'd careere And wrecks upon a lesse suspected feare Even so poore I contriving to withstand My Foemans fall into th' Almighties hand So I the childe of ruine to avoid Lesse dangers by a greater am destroy'd How necessary Ah! How sharp's his end That neither hath his God nor man to friend ELEG 6. FOrgotten Sion hangs her drooping head Vpon her fainting brest Her soule is fed With endlesse griefe whose torments had depriv'd her Long since of life had not new paines reviv'd her Sion is like a Garden whose defence Being broke is left to the rude violence Of wastefull Swine full of neglected waste Nor having flowre for smell nor herbe for taste Heaven takes no pleasure in her holy Feasts Her idle Sabbaths or burnt fat of beasts Both State and Temple are despoil'd and fleec't Of all their beauty without Prince or Priest ELEG 7. GLory that once did Heavens bright Temple fill Is now departed from that sacred Hill See how the emptie Altar stands disguis'd Abus'd by Gentiles and by heaven despis'd That place wherein the holy One hath taken So sweet delight lies loathed and forsaken That sacred place wherein the precious Name Of great Iebovah was preserv'd the same Is turn'd a Den for Theeves an open stage For vice to act on a defiled Cage Of uncleane birds a house of priviledge For sin and uncontrolled sacriledge ELEG 8. HEaven hath decreed his angry brest doth boile His time 's expired and he 's arm'd to spoile His secret Will adjourn'd the righteous doome Of threatned Sion and her time is come His hand is arm'd with thunder from his eyes A flame more quicke than sulphrous Etna flyes Sion must fall That hand which hath begun Can never rest till the full worke be done Her walls are sunke her Towres are overthrowne Heaven will not leave a stone upon a stone Hence hence the flouds of roaring Iudah rise Hence Sion fills the Cisternes of her eyes ELEG 9. IOy is departed from the holy Gates Of deare Ierusalem and peace retraits From wasted Sion her high walls that were An armed proofe against the brunt of feare Are shrunke for shame if not withdrawne for pity To see the ruine of so brave a City Her Kings and out-law'd Princes live constraind Hourely to heare the name of Heaven profan'd Manners and Lawes the life of government Are sent into eternall banishment Her Prophets cease to preach they vow unheard They howle to heaven but heaven gives no regard ELEG 10. KIng Priest and People all alike are clad In weeds of Sack-cloth taken from the sad Wardrobe of sorrow prostrate on the earth They close their lips their lips estrang'd to mirth Silent they sit for dearth of speech affords A sharper Accent for true griefe than words The Father wants a Son the Son a Mother The Bride her Groom th the brother waÌ„ts a brother Some Famine Exile some and some the sword Hath slaine All want when Sion wants her Lord How art thou all in all There 's nothing scant Great God with thee without thee all things want ELEG 11. â—Aunch forth my soule into a sea of teares Whose ballanc'd bulke no other Pilot steares Then raging sorrow whose uncertaine hand Wanting her Compasse strikes on every sand Driven with a storme of sighes she seekes the Haven Of rest but like to Noahs wandring Raven She scowres the Maine and as a Sea-lost Rover She roames but can no land of peace discover Mine eyes are faint with teares teares have no end The more are spent the more remaine to spend What Marble ah what Adamantine eye Can looke on Sions ruine and not cry ELEG 12. MY tongue the tongues of Angels are too faint T' expresse the causes of my just complaint See how the pale-fac'd sucklings roare for food And from their milkles mothers brests draw blood Children surcease their serious toyes and plead With trickling teares Ah mothers give us bread Such goodly Barnes and not one graine of corne Why did the sword escape's Why were we borne To be devour'd and pin'd with famine save us With quicke reliefe or take the lives you gave us They cryde for bread that scarce had breath to cry And wanting meanes to live found meanes to dye ELEG 13. NEver ah never yet did vengeance brand A State with deeper ruine than thy Land Deare Sion how could mischiefe beene more keene Or strucke thy glory with a sharper spleene Whereto Ierusalem to what shall I Compare this thy unequall'd misery Turne backe to ages past Search deepe Records Theirs are thine cannot be exprest in words Would would to God my lives cheape price might be Esteem'd of value but to ransome thee Would I could cure thy griefe but who is able To heale that wound that is immedicable ELEG 14. O Sion had thy prosperous soule endur'd Thy Prophets scourge thy joyes had bin secur'd But thou ah thou hast lent thine itching eare To such as claw'd and onely such wouldst heare Thy Prophets 'nointed with unhallow'd oyle Rubd where they should have launcht and did beguile Thy abused faith their fawning lips did cry Peace peace alas when there was no peace nigh They quilted silken curtaines for thy crimes Belyde thy God and onely pleas'd the times Deare Sion oh hadst thou but had the skill To stop thine eares thou hadst beene Sion still ELEG 15. â—Eople that travell through thy wasted Land Gaze on thy ruines and amazed stand They shake their spleenfull heads disdaine deride The sudden downefall of so faire a pride They clap their joyfull hands fill their tongues With hisses ballads and with Lyrick songs Her torments give their empty lips new matter And with their scornfull fingers point they at her Is this say they that place whose wonted fame Made troubled earth to tremble at her name Is this that State are these those goodly Stations Is this that Mistris and that Queene of Nations ELEG 16. QVencht are the dying Embers of compassion For empty sorrow findes no lamentation When as thy Harvest flourisht with full eares Thy sleightest griefe brought in a tide of teares But now alas thy Crop consum'd and gon Thou art but food for beasts to trample on
Thy servants glory in thy ruine those That were thy private friends are publike foes Thus thus say they we spit our rankrous spleene And gâ—ash our teeth upon the worlds faire Queene Thrice welcome this this long expected day That crownes our conquest with so sweet a prey ELEG 17. REbellious Iudah Could thy flattring crimes Secure thee from the dangers of the times Or did thy summer Prophets ere foresay These evills or warn'd thee of a winters day Did not those sweet-lipt Oracles beguile Thy wanton eares with newes of Wine and Oile But heaven is just what his deepe counsell wild His prophets told and Iustice hath fulfill'd He hath destroy'd no secret place so voyd No Fort so sure that Heaven hath not destroy'd Thou land of Iudah How 's thy sacred throne Become a stage for Heathen to trample on ELEG 18. SEe see th' accursed Gentiles doe inherit The Land of promise where heavens Sacred Spirit Built Temples for his everlasting Name There there th'usurping Pagans doe proclaime Their idle Idols unto whom they gave That stolen honor which heavnes Lord should have Winke Sion O let not those eyes be stain'd With heavens dishonour see not heaven profan'd Close close thine eyes or if they needs must be Open like flood-gates to let water flee Yet let the violence of their flowing streames Obscure thine open eyes and mask their beames ELEG 19. TRust not thy eye-lids lest a flattering sleepe Bribe them to rest and they forget to weepe Powre out thy heart thy heart dissolv'd in teares Weepe forth thy plaints in the Almighties eares Oh let thy cries thy cries to heaven addrest Disturbe the silence of thy midnight rest Prefer the sad petitions of thy soule To heaven ne're close thy lips till heaven condole Confounded Sion and her wounded weale That God that smit oh move that God to heale Oh let thy tongue ne're cease to call thine eye To weepe thy pensive heart ne're cease to cry ELEG 20. VOuchsafe oh thou eternall Lord of pitty To looke on Sion and thy dearest City Confus'd Ierusalem for thy DAVIâ—S sake And for that promise which thy selfe did make To halting Isr'el loe thy hand hath forc'd Mothers whom law lesse Famine hath divorc'd From deare affection to devoure the bloomes And buds that burgeond froÌ„ their painful wombs Thy sacred Priests and Prophets that while-ere Did hourely whisper in thy neighbouring eare Are falne before the sacrilegious sword Even where even whilst they did unfold thy word ELEG 21. WOunded and wasted by th' eternall hand Of heaven I grovell on the ground my land Is turn'd a Golgotha before mine eye Vnsepulchred my murthred people lye My dead lye rudely scattred on the stones My Cawsies all are pav'd with dead mens bones The fierce Destroyer doth alike forbeare The maidens trembling and the Matrons teare Th' imperiall sword spares neither Foole nor Wise The old mans pleading nor the Infants cries Vengeance is deafe and blinde and she respects Nor Young nor Old nor Wise nor Foole nor Sex ELEG 22. YEares heavie laden with their months retire Months gone their date of numbred daies expire The daies full houred to their period tend And howers chac'd with light-foot Minutes end Yet my undated evills no time will minish Though yeares months though daies and howers finish Feares flocke about me as invited guests Before the Portalls at proclamed feasts Where heaveÌ„ hath breathd that man that state must fall Heaven wants no thunder-bolts to strike withall I am the subject of that angry Breath My sonnes are slaine and I am mark'd for death Threnodia III. ELEG 1. ALL you whose unprepared lips did tast The tedious Cup of sharp affliction cast Your wondring eyes on me that have drunke up Those dregs whereof you onely kist the Cup I am the man 'gainst whom th' Eternall hath Discharg'd the lowder volley of his wrath I am the man on whom the brow of night Hath scowl'd unworthy to behold the light I am the man in whom th' Almighty showeâ— The dire example of unpattern'd woes I am that Pris'ner ransome cannot free I am that man and I am onely he ELEG 2. BOndage hath forc'd my servile necke to faile Beneath her load Afflictions nimble flayle Hath thrasht my soule upon a floore of stones And quasht the marrow of my broken bones Th' assembled powres of Heaven enrag'd are eager To root me out Heavens souldiers doe beleager My worried soule my soule unapt for fleeing That yeelds o'reburthen'd with her tedious being Th' Almighties hand hath clouded all my night And clad my soule with a perpetuall light A night of torments and eternall sorrow Like that of Death that never findes a morrow ELEG 3. CHain'd to the brazen pillars of my woes I strive in vaine No mortall hand can loose What heaven hath bound my soule is walld about That hope can nor get in nor feare get out When ere my wav'ring hopes to heaven addresse The feeble voice of my extreame distresse He stops his tyred eares without regard Of Suit or Suitor leaves my prayers unheard Before my faint and stumbling feet he layes Blockes to disturbe my best advised wayes I seeke my peace but seeke my peace in vaine For every way 's a Trap each path's a Traine ELEG 4. DIsturbed Lyons are appeas'd with blood And ravenous Beares are milde not wanting food But heaven ah heaven will not implored be Lyons and Beares are not so fierce as Hee His direfull vengeance which no meane confines Hath crost the thriving of my best designes His hand hath spoild me that erewhile advanc't me Brought in my foes possest my friends against me His Bow is bent his forked Rovers flie Like darted haile-stones from the darkned skie Shot from a hand that cannot erre they be Transfixed in no other marke but me ELEG 5. EXil'd from Heaven I wander to and fro And seeke for streames as Stags new stricken doe And like a wandring Hart I flee the Hounds With Arrowes deeply fixed in my wounds My deadly Hunters with a winged pace Pricke forwards and pursue their weary chace They whoope they hollow me deride flout me That flee from death yet carrie death about me Excesse of torments hath my soule deceiv'd Of all her joyes of all her powres bereiv'd O curious griefe that hast my soule brim-fill'd With thousand deaths and yet my soule not kill'd ELEG 6. FOllow'd with troopes of feares I flie in vaine For change of places breeds new change of paine The base condition of my low estate My exalted Foes disdaine and wonder at Turne where I list these these my wretched eyes They finde no objects but new miseries My soule accustom'd to so long encrease Of paines forgets that she had ever peace Thus thus perplext thus with my griefes distracted What shall I do Heavens powers are compacted To worke my ' eternall ruine To what friend Shal I make mone when heaven conspires my end ELEG 7. GReat GOD what helpe ah me what hope is left
DIVINE POEMES Reuised and Corrected with Additions By the Author Fra Quarles Printed for Iohn Marriott in St Dunstons Church yard 〈…〉 DIVINE POEMS Containing The History of IONAH ESTER IOB SAMPSON SIONS SONETS ELEGIES Written and newly augmented BY FRA QVARLES LONDON Printed by M. F. for I. MARRIOT and are to be sold at his Shop in St. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-streete TO THE SACRED MAIESTIE of King CHARLES SIR WHen your Landed Subject dyes and leaves none of his Blood to inherite the Lawes of this your Kingdome finds the King heyre In this Volume are contained severall Poems lately dedicated to divers of your Nobility whom they have out-lived So that the Muses who seldome or never give honour for lifes have found them all for the King which have here gathered together and prostrated before the feet of your Sacred Majesty Indeed one of them I formerly dedicated and presented to your selfe So that now they are become doubly yours both by Escheate and as Survivour And if you please to owne me as your servant your Majestie hath another Title good by which I most desire they should bee knowne yours I will not sin against the common good so much as to expect your Majesties serious eye upon them If when your Crowne shall be most favourable to your Princely browes you please to afford a gracious hearing they will with the helpe of some benevolous Reader and your Royall acceptance I hope relish in your sacred eares and receive honour from your accustomed goodnes farre above their merits or the expectation of Your true-hearted and loyall Liegeman FRA QVARLES To the READER I List not to tyre thy patient eares with unnecessary Language the abuse of Complementâ— My mouth 's no Dictionary it only serves as the needfull Interpreter of my Heart I have here sent thee the first fruits of an abortive Birth It is a daintie Subject not Fabulous but Truth it selfe Wonder not at the Title A FEAST FOR VVORMES for it is a Song of Mercy What greater FEAST than Mercy And what are Men but WORMES Moreover I have gleaned some few Meditatations obvious to the History Let mee advise thee to keepe the Taste of the one whilest thou readest the other and that will make thee relish both the better Vnderstanding Reader favour mee Gently expound what it is too late to correct He leva le Golpe Dios sea con ella Farewell THE PROPOSITION of this first Worke. â—TIs not the Record of great Hectors glory Whose matchlesse Valour makes the World a Story Nor yet the swelling of that Romans name That onely Came and Look'd and Overcame Nor One nor All of those brave Worthies nine Whose Might was great and Acts almost divine That live'd like Gods but dy'd like Men and gone Shall give my Pen a Taske to treat upon I sing the praises of the KING of Kings Out of whose mouth a two-edg'd Smiter springs Whose Words are Mystery whose Works are Wonder Whose Eyes are Lightning and whose Voice is Thunder Who like a Curtaine spreads the Heavens out Spangled with Starres in Glory round about 'T is He that cleft the furious waves in twaine Making a High-way passage through the Maine 'T is He that turn'd the waters into Blood And smote the Rocky stone and caus'd a Flood 'T is He that 's justly armed in his Ire Behinde with Plagues before with flaming Fire More bright than mid-day Phoebus are his Eyes And whosoever sees his Visage dyes I sing the Praises of Great Iudahs Lyon The fragrant Flowre of Iesse the Lambe of Sion Whose Head is whiter than the driven Snow Whose visage doth like flames of Fier glow His Loynes begirt with golden Belt his Eyne Like Titan ridinst in his Southerne Shine His Feet like burning Brasse and as the noise Of surgie Neptunes roaring in hiâ— Voice This is that Paschall Lambe whose dearest Blood Is soveraigâ—e Drinke whose Flesh is saving Food His precious Blood the Worthies of the Earth Did drinke which though but borne of mortall birth Return'd them Deities For who drinkes This Shall be receiv'd into Eternall Blisse Himselfe 's the Gift which He himselfe did give His Stripes heale us and by His Death we live He acting God and Man in double Nature Did reconcile Mankinde and Mans Creator I heere 's a Taske indeed If Mortalls could Not make a Verse yet Rockes and Mountaines would The Hills shall dance the Sunne shall stop his Course Hearing the subiect of this high Discourse The Horse and Gryphin shall together sleepe The Wolfe shall fawne upon the silly Sheepe The crafty Serpent and the fearfull Hart Shall joyne in Consort and each beare a part And leape for Ioy when my Vrania sings She sings the praises of the King of Kings The Introduction ¶ THat Ancient Kingdome that old Assur swayd Shew'd two great Cities Ah! but both decayd Both mighty Great but of unequall growth Both great in People and in Building both But ah What hold is there of earthly good Now Grasse growes there where these brave Cities stood The name of one great Babylon was hight Through which the rich Euphrates takes her flight From high Armenia to the ruddy Seas And stores the Land with rich Commodities ¶ The other Ninus Nineveh the Great So huge a Fabricke and well-chosen Seat Don Phoebus fiery Steeds with Maines becurl'd That circundates in twice twelve houres the world Ne're saw the like By great King Ninus hand 'T was rais'd and builded in th' Assyâ—ians Land On one hand Lycus washt her fruitfull sides On t'other Tygris with her hasty â—ides Begirt she was with walles of wondrous might Creeping twice fifty foot in measur'd height Vpon their bredth if ought we may rely On the report of Sage Antiquity Three Chariots fairely might themselves display And ranke together in a Baâ—tell ray The Circuit that her mighty Bulke imbraces Containes the mete of sixty thousand 〈◊〉 Within her well-fenc'd walls you might discover Five hundred stately Towers thrice told over Whereof the highest draweth up the eye As well the low'st an hundred Cubits hie All rich in those things which to state belong For beauty brave and for munition strong Duly and daily this great Worke was tended With ten thousand Workmen begun and ended In eight yeares space How beautifull how faire Thy Buildings And how foule thy Vices are ¶ Thou Land of Assur double then thy pride And let thy Wells of Ioy be never dry'd Thou hast a Palace that 's renown'd so much The like was never is nor will be such ¶ Thou Land of Assur treble then thy Wâ—â— And let thy Teares doe as thy Cups o'reflow For this thy Palace of so great renowne Shall be destroy'd and sackt and batter'd downe But cheere up Niniveh thine inbred might Hath meanes enough to quell thy Foemans spite Thy Bulwarkes are like Mountaines and thy Wall Disdaines to stoope to thundring Ordnance call Thy watchfull Towers mounted round about Keepe thee in safety and thy Foe-men out I
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
shall flye A lessning pitch to the deceived eye If in her Downy Soreage she but ruffe So strong a Dove may it be thought enough Beare with her Time and Fortune may require Your patient sufferance with a fairer flight The generall Application TO thee Malâ—idâ— now I turne my Quill That God is still that God and will be still The painfull Pastors take up Ionah's roome And thou the Ninivite to whom they coâ—e Medit. 1. HOw great 's the love of God unto his creature Or is his Wisedome or his Mercy greater I know not whether O th'exceeding love Of highest God! that from his Throne above Will send the brightnesse of his grace to those That grope in darknesse and his grace oppose He helpes provides inspires and freely gives As pleas'd to see us ravell out our lives He gives us from the heape He measures not Nor deales like Manna each his stinted lot But daily sends the Doctors of his Spouse With such like oyle as from the Widowes cruse Did issue forth in fulnesse without wasting Where plenty still was had yet plenty lasting I there is â—are in heaven and heavenly sprights That guides the world and guards poore mortall wights There is else were the miserable state Of Man more wretched and unfortunate Than salvage beasts But O th'abounding love Of highest God! whose Angels from above Dismount the Towre of Blisse flye to and fro Assisting wretched Man their deadly foe What thing is Man that Gods regard is such Or why should heaven love rechlesse Man so much Why what are men but quickned lumps of earth A Feast for Wormes a bubble full of mirth A Looking glasse for griefe A flash A minute A painted Toombe with putrifaction in it A mappe of Death A burthen of a song A winters Dust A worme of five foot long Begot in sinne In darknesse nourisht Bornâ— In sorrow Naked Shiftlesse and forlorne His first voice heard is crying for reliefe Alas He comes into a world of griefe His Age is sinfull and his Youth is vaine His Life 's a punishment His Death 's a paine His Life 's a houre of Ioy a world of Sorrow His death 's a winters night that findes no morrow Mans Life 's an Hower-glasse which being run Concludes that houre of joy and so is done Ionah must goe nor is this charge confinde To Ionah but to all the world enjoyn'd You Magistrates arise and take delight In dealing Iustice and maintaining Right There lyes your Niniveh Merchants arise And mingle conscience with your Merchandise Lawyers arise make not your righteous Lawes A tricke for gaine Let Iustice rule the cause Tradesmen arise and plye your thriving shops With truer hands and eate your meate with drops Paul to thy Tents and Peter to thy Net And all must goe that course which God hath set ¶ Great God awake us in these drowsie times Lest vengeance finde us sleeping in our Crymes Encrease succession in thy Prophets liew For loe thy Harvest 's great and workmen few THE ARGVMENT But Ionah toward Tharsis went A Tempest doth his course prevent The Mariners are sore opprest While Ionah sleepes and takes his rest Sect. 2. BVt Ionah thus bethought The City's great And mighty Ashur stands with deadly threat Their hearts are hardued that they cannot heare Will greene wood burne when so unapt's the seire Strange is the charge Shall I goe to a place Vnknowne and forraigne Aye me hard 's the case That righteous Isrâ—el must be thus neglected When Miscreants and Gentiles are respected How might I hope my words shall there succeed Which thrive not with the flockes I daily feed I know my God is gentle and enâ—linde To tender mercy apt to change his minde Vpon the least repentance Then shall I Be deem'd as false and shame my Prophecie O heavy burthen of a doubtfull mind Where shall I goe or which way shall I wind My heart like Ianus looketh to and fro My Credit bids me Stay my God bids Goe If Goe my labour 's lost my shame 's at hand If stay Lord I transgresse my Lords command If goe from bad estate to worse I fall If stay I slide from bad to worst of all My God bids goe my credit bids me stay My guilty feare bids fly another way So Ionah straight arose himselfe bedight With fit acoutrements for hasty flight In stead of staffe he tooke a Shipmans weed In stead of going loâ— he flyes with speed Like as a Hawke that overmatcht with might Doing sad penance for th'unequall fight Answâ—ring the Falkners second shout does flee From fist turnes tayle to foule and takes a tree So Ionah baulks the place where he was sent To Nineveh and downe to Iaffa went He sought enquired and at last he found A welcome Ship that was to Tharsis bound Where he may flye the presence of the Lord He makes no stay but straightway goes aboord His hasty purse for bargaine findes no leisure Where sinn delights there 's no account of treasure Nor did he know nor aske how much his Fare He gave They tooke all parties pleased are How thriftlesse of our cost and paines are we Great God of heaven and earth to fly from thee Now have the sailors drunke their parting cup They goe aboord The Sâ—â—les are hoisting up The Anchor 's wayd the keele begins t' obey Her gentle Rudder leaves her quiet Key Divides the streames and without winde or oare She easly glides along the moving shore Her swelling Canvace gives her nimbler motion Sh'outstrips the Tide and hies her to the Ocean Forth to the deepe she launches and outbraves The prouder billowes rides upon the waves She plies that course her Compas hath enjoindher And soone hath left the lessned land behind her By this the breath of heaven began to cease Calme were the Seas the waves were all at peace The flagging mainsaile flapt against her yard The uselesse Compasse and the idle Card Were both neglected Vpon every side The gamesome Porpisce tumbled on the Tide Like as a Mastisâ—e when restrain'd a while Is made more furious and more apt for spoile Or when the breath of man being bard the course At length breakes forth with a farre greater force Even so the miâ—der breath of heaven at last Le ts flye more fierce and blowes a stronger blast All on a sudden darkned was the Sky With gloomy clouds heavens more refulgent eye Was all obscur'd The aire grew damp and cold And strong mouth'd Bâ—reas could no longer hold Eolus le ts loose his uncontrouled breath Whose language threatens nothing under death The Rudder failes The ship's at random driven The eye no object ownes but Sea and Heaven The Welkin stormes and rages more and more The raine powres down the heavens begin to rore As they would split the massie Globe in sunder From those that live above to those live under The Pilot's frighted knowes not what to doe His Art 's amaz'd in such a maze of woe Faces grow sad
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
Strangers Fate Should be neglective of his owne estate Where is this love become in later age Alas 't is gone in endlesse pilgrimage From hence and never to returne I doubt 'Till revolution wheele those times about Chill brests have starv'd her here and she is driven Away and with Astraea fled to heaven Poore Charity that naked Babe is gone Her honey's spent and all her store is done Her winglesse Bees can finde out ne're a bloome And crooked Aâ—â— doth usurpe her roome Nepenthe's dry and Love can get no drinke And curs'd Arâ—enâ—e flowes above the brinke Brave Mariners the world your names shal hallow Admiring that in you that none dare follow Your friendship 's rare and your conversion straÌ„ge From Paganisme to zeale A sudden change Those men doe now the God of heaven implore That bow'd to Puppets but an houre before Their zeale is fervent though but new begun Before their egge-shels were done off they runne And when bright Phoebus in a Summer tide New risâ—n from the bosome of his Bride Enveloped with misty fogges at length Breakes forth displaies the mist with Southerne strength Even so these Mariners of peerlesse mirrour Their faith b'ing veil'd within the mist of errour At length their zeale chac'd ignorance away They left their Puppets and began to pray ¶ Lord how unlimited are thy confines That still pursu'st man in his good designes Thy mercy 's like the dew of Hermon hill Or like the Oyntment dropping downward still From Aarons head to beard from beard to foote So doe thy mercies drench us round about Thy love is boundlesse Thou art apt and free To turne to Man when Man returnes to thee THE ARGVMENT They cast the Prophet over boord The storme alay'd They feare the Lord A mighty Fish him quick devoures Where he remained many houres Sect. 6. EVen as a member whose corrupted sore Infests and rankles eating more and more Threatning the bodies losse if not prevented The wise chirurgion all faire meanes attented Cuts off and with advised skil doth choose To lose a part then all the body lose Even so the feeble Sailors that addresse Their idle armes where heaven denyes successe Forbeare their thrivelesse labours and devise To roote that Evill from whence their harms arise Treason is in their thoughts and in their eares Danger revives the old and addes new feares Their hearts grow fierce and every soule applies T' abandon mercy from his tender eyes They cease t' attempt what heaven so long withstood And bent to kill their thoughts are all on blood They whisper oft each word is Deaths Alarme They hoyst him up Each lends a busie arme And with united powers they entombe His out-cast body in Thetis angry wombe Whereat grim Neptune wip't his fomy mouth Held his tridented Mace upon the South The windes were whist the billows danc't no more The storme allay'd the heavens left off to rore The waves obedient to their pilgrimage Gave ready passage and surceast their rage The skie grew cleare and now the welcome light Begins to put the gloomy clouds to flight Thus all on sudden was the Sea tranquill The Heav'ns were quiet and the Waves were still As when a friendly Creditor to get A long forborne and much-concerning debt Still plies his willing debter with entreats Importunes daily daily thumps and beates The batter'd Portals of his tyred eares Bedeafing him with what he knowes and heares The weary debter to avoid the sight He loathes shifts here and there and ev'ry night Seekes out Protection of another bed Yet ne'rethelesse pursu'd and followed His eares are still laid at with lowder volley Of harder Dialect He melancholy Sits downe and sighs and after long foreslowing T' avoid his presence payes him what is owing The thankfull Creditor is now appeas'd Takes leave and goes away content and pleas'd Even so these angry waves with restlesse rage Accosted Ionas in his pilgrimage And thundred Iudgement in his fearefull eare Presenting Hubbubs to his guilty feare The waves rose discontent the Surges beat And every moments death the billowes threat The weather-beaten Ship did every minuit Await destruction while hee was in it But when his long expected corps they threw Into the deepe a debt through trespasse due The Seagrew kinde and all her frownes abated Her face was smooth to all that navigated 'T was sinfull Ionah made her storme and rage 'T was sinfull Ionah did her storme asswage With that the Mariners astonisht were And fear'd Iehovah with a mighty feare Offring up Sacrifice with one accord And vowing solemne vowes unto the Lord. But he whose word can make the earth's foundatioÌ„ Tremble and with his Word can make cessation Whose wrath doth mouÌ„t the waves toss the Seas And make theÌ„ calme smooth wheÌ„ e're he please This God whose mercy runs on endlesse wheele And puls like Iacob Iustice by the heele Prepar'd a Fish prepar'd a mighty Whale Whose belly was both prison-house and baile For retchlesse Ionah As the two leaf'd doore Opens to welcome home the fruitfull store Wherewith the harvest quits the Plowmans hope Even so the great Leviathan set ope His beame-like Iawes prepar'd for such a boone And at a morsell swallow'd Ionah downe 'Till dewy-check't Aurora's purple dye Thrice dappell'd had the ruddy morning skie And thrice had spred the Curtaines of the morne To let in Titan when the day was borne Ionah was Tenant to this living Grave Embowel'd deepe in this stupendious Cave Meditat. 6. LO Death is now as alwaies it hath bin The just procured stipend of our sinne Sinne is a golden Causie and a Road Garnisht with joyes whose pathes are even broad But leads at length to death and endlesse griefe To torments and to paines without reliefe Iustice feares none but maketh all afraid And then fals hardest when t is most delaid But thou reply'st thy sinnes are daily great Yet thou sittst uncontrold upon thy seat Thy wheat doth flourish and thy barnes do thrive Thy sheepe encrease thy sonnes are all alive And thou art buxom and hast nothing scant Finding no want of any thing but want Whil'st others whom the â—quint-ey'd world counts holy Sit sadly drooping in a melancholy With brow dejected and downe-hanging head Or take of almes or poorely begge their bread But young man know there is a Day of doome The Feast is good untill the reck'ning come The time runnes fastest where is least regard The stone that 's long in falling falleth hard There is a dying day thou prosp'rous foole When all thy laughter shall be turn'd to Doole Thy roabes to tort'ring plagues fel tormenting Thy whoops of Ioy to howles of sad lamenting Thy tongue shall yell and yawle and never stop And wish a world to give for one poore drop To flatter thine intolerable paine The wealth of Pluto could not then obtaine A minutes freedome from that hellish rout Whose fire burnes and never goeth out Nor house nor land not measur'd heaps of wealth
broght th'embassage But they gave faith to what he said relented And changing their mis-wandred wayes repented Before the searching Ayre could coole his word Their hearts returned and beleev'd the Lord And they whose dainty lips were cloy'd while ere With cates and viands and with wanton cheare Doe now enjoyne their palats not to tast The offall bread for they proclaim'd a Fast And they whose looset bodies once did lye Wrapt up in Robes and Silkes of Princely Dye Loe now in stead of Robes in rags they mourne And all their Silkes doe into Sack-cloth turne They read themselves sad Lectures on the ground Learning to want as well as to abound The Prince was not exempted nor the Peere Nor yet the richest nor the poorest there The old man was not freed whose hoary age Had ev'n almost outworne his Pilgrimage Nor yet the yong whose Glasse but new begun By course of Nature had an age to runne For when that fatall Word came to the King Convay'd with speed upon the nimble wing Of flitting Fame he straight dismounts his Throne Forsakes his Chaire of State he sate upon Disrob'd his body and his head discrown'd In dust and ashes grov'ling on the ground And when he rear'd his trembling corps againe His haire all filthy with the dust he laie in He clad in pensive Sackcloth did depose Himselfe from State Imperiall and chose To live a Vassall or a baser thing Then to usurpe the Scepter of a King Respectlesse of his pompe he quite forgate He was a Monarch mindlesse of his State He neither sought to rule or be obay'd Nor with the sword nor with the Scepter sway'd Meditat. 9. ¶ IS fasting then the thing that God requires Can fasting expiate or slake those fires That sinne hath blowne to such a mighty flame Can sackcloth cloth a fault or hide a shame Can ashes clense thy blot or purge thy ' offence Or doe thy hands make heaven a recompence By strowing dust upon thy bryny face Are these the trickes to purchase heavenly grace No though thou pine thy selfe with willing want Or face looke thinne or Carkas ne're so gaunt Although thou worser weeds then sackcloth weare Or naked goe or sleepe in shirts of haire Or though thou chuse an ash-tub for thy bed Or make a daily dunghill on thy head Thy labour is not poys'd with equall gaines For thou hast nought but labour for thy paines Such holy madnesse God rejects and loathes That sinkes no deeper than the skin or cloathes 'T is not thine eyes which taught to weepe by art Looke red with teares not guilty of thy hart 'T is not the holding of thy hands so hye Nor yet the purer squinting of thine eye 'T is not your mimick mouths your antick faces Your Scripture phrases or affected Graces Nor prodigall up-banding of thine eyes Whose gaâ—â—â—full bals doe seeme to pelt the skyes 'T is not the strict reforming of your haire So close that all the neighbour skull is bare 'T is not the drooping of thy head so low Nor yet the lowring of thy sullen brow Nor wolvish howling that disturbs the aire Nor repetitions or your tedious prayer No no 't is none of this that God regards Such sort of fooles their owne applause rewards Such puppet-plaies to heaven aâ—e strange quaint Their service is unsweet and foully taint Their words fall fruitlesse from their idle braine But true repentance runnes in other straine Where sad contrition harbours there the heart Is truly'acquainted with the secret smart Of past offences hates the bosome sin The most which most the soule tooke pleasure in No crime unsifted no sinne unpresented Can lurke unseene and seene none unlamented The troubled soule 's amaz'd with dire aspects Of lesser sinnes committed and detects The wounded Conscience it cryes amaine For mercy mercy cryes and cryes againe It sadly grieves and soberly laments It yernes for grace reformes returnes repents I this is incense whose accepted savour Mounts up the heavenly Throne findeth favour I this is it whose valour never failes With God it stoutly wrestles and prevailes I this is it that pearces heaven above Never returning home like Noab's Dove But brings an Olive leafe or some encrease That workes Salvation and Eternall Peace THE ARGVMENT The Prince and people fasts and prayes God heard accepted lik'd their wayes Vpon their timely true repentance God rever'st and chang'd his sentence Sect. 10. THen suddenly with holy zeale inflam'd He caus'd a generall Act to be proclaim'd By sage advice and counsell of his Peeres Let neither man or child of youth or yeares From greatest in the Citie to the least Nor Herd nor pining Flocke nor hungry beast Nor any thing that draweth ayre or breath On forfeiture of life or present death Presume to taste of nourishment or food Or move their hungry lips to chew the cud From out their eyes let Springs of water burst With teares or nothing let theÌ„ slake their thirst Moreo're let every man what e're he be Of higher quality or low degree D'off all they weare excepting but the same That nature craves that which covers shame Their nakednesse with sackcloth let them hide And mue the vest'ments of their silken pride And let the brave cariering Horse of Warre Whose rich Caparisons and Trappings are The glorious Wardrobe of a Victors show Let him disrobe and put on sackcloth too The Oxe ordain'd for yoke the Asse for load The Horse as well for race as for the roade The burthren-bearing Camell strong and great The fruitfull Kine and every kinde of Neate Let all put sackcloth on and spare no voyce But cry aloud to heaven with mighty noise Let all men turne the bias of their wayes And change their fiercer hands to force of praise For who can tell if God whose angry face Hath long bin waining from us will embrace This slender pittance of our best indeavour Who knowes if God will his intent persever Or who can tell if he whose tender love Transcends his sharper Iustice will remove And change his high decree turn his sentence Vpon a timely and unfain'd repentance And who can tell if heaven will change the lot That we and ours may live and perish not So God perceiv'd their workes saw their waies Approv'd the faith that in their workes did blaze Approv'd their works approv'd their workes the rather because their faith works weÌ„t both together He saw their faith because their faith abounded He saw their works because on faith they grounded He saw their faith their workes and so relented H'approv'd their works their faith so repented Repented of the plagues they apprehended Repented of the evill that he intended So God the vengeance of his hand withdrew He tooke no forfeiture although 't were due The evill that once hee meant he now forgot Cancell'd the forfeit bond and did it not Medita 10. ¶ SEe into what an ebbe of low estate The soule that seekes to be regenerate Must
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
heart and sucke thy blood Beware betimes lest custome and permission Prescribe a title and so claime possession ¶ Despairing man whose burthen makes thee stoop Vnder the terror of thy sinnes and droop Through dull despaire whose too too sullen griefe Makes heav'n unable to apply reliefe Whose eares are dull'd with noyse of whips and chaines And yels of damned soules through tort'red pains Come here and rouze thy selfe unâ—eele those eyes Which sad Despaire clos'd up Arise Arise And goe to Nineveh the worlds great Palace Earths mighty wonder and behold the Ballace And burthen of her bulke is nought but sin Which wilfull she commits and wallowes in Behold her Images her fornications Her crying sinnes her vile abominations Behold the guiltlesse blood that she did spill Like Spring-tides in the streets and reeking still Behold her scorching lusts and taint desier Like sulph'rous Aetna blaze and blaze up higher She rapes and rends and theeves there is none Can justly call the thing he hath his owne That sacred Name of God that Name of wonder In stead of worshipping she teares in sunder She 's not enthrall'd to this Sin or another But like a Leper's all infected over Not onely sinfull but in sinnes subjection Shee 's not infected but a meere infection No sooner had the Prophet Heav'ns great Spy Begun an onset to his lowder Cry But she repented sigh'd and wept and tore Her curious hayre and garments that she wore She sate in ashes and with Sack-cloth clad her All drencht in brine that griefe cannot be sadder She calls a Fast proclames a prohibition To man and beast sad tokens of contrition No sooner pray'd but heard No sooner groan'd But pittied No sooner griev'd but moan'd Timely Repentance speedy grace procur'd The sore that 's salvd in time is eas'ly cur'd No sooner had her trickling teares ore-flowne Her blubber'd cheeks but heav'n was apt to mone Her pensive heart wip'd her suffused eyes And gently strok'd her cheekes and bid her rise No faults were seene as if no fault had bin Deare Mercy made a Quittance for her sin ¶ Malfido rouze thy leaden spirit bestirre thee Hold up thy drouzy head here 's comfort for thee What if thy zeale be frozen hard What then Thy Saviours blood will thaw that frost agen Thy pray'rs that should be servent hot as fier Proceed but coldly from a dull desier What then Grieve inly But do not dismay Who heares thy pray'rs will give thee strength to pray Though left a while thou art not quite giv'n ore Where Sinne abounds there Grace abounâ—eth more This this is all the good that I can doe thee To ease thy griefe I here commend unto thee A little booke but a great Mystery A great delight A little History A little branch slipt from a saving tree But bearing fruit as great as great mought be A small abridgement of thy Lords great love A message sent from heaven by a Dove It is a heavenly Lecture that relates To Princes Pastors People all Estates Their sev'rall duties ¶ Peruse it well and binde it to thy brest The rests the Cause of thy defect of rest But read it often or else read it not Once read is not observ'd and soone forgot Nor is 't enough to read but understand Or else thy tongue for want of wit 's prophan'd Nor is 't enough to purchase knowledge by it Salve heales no sore unlesse the party ' apply it Apply it then which if thy flesh restraines Strive what thou canst pray for what remaines The particular Application ¶ THen thou that art opprest with sad Despaire Here shalt thou see the strong effect of pray'r Then pray with faith servent without ceasing Like Iacob wrestle till thou get a blessing ¶ Here shalt thou see the type of Christ thy Saviour Then let thy suits be through his name and favour ¶ Here shalt thou finde repentance and true griefe Of sinners like thy selfe and their beliefe Then suit thy griefe to theirs and let thy soule Cry mightily untill her wounds be whole ¶ Here shalt thou see the meeknesse of thy God Who on Repentance turnes and burnes the Rod Repents of what he purpos'd and is sorry Here may ye heare him stoutly pleading for ye Then thus shall be thy meed if thou repent In stead of plagues and direfull punishment Thou shalt find mercy love and Heav'ns applause And God of Heav'n himselfe will plead thy cause ¶ Here hast thou theÌ„ compil'd within this treasure First the Almighties high and just displeasure Against foule sinne or such as sinfull be Or Prince or poore or high or low degree ¶ Here is descri'd the beaten Road to Faith ¶ Here maist thou see the force that Preaching hath ¶ Here is describ'd in briefe but full expression The nature of a Convert and his passion His sober Dyet which is thin and spare His clothing which is Sack-cloth and his Prayre Not faintly sent to heaven nor spatingly But piercing â—ervent and a mighty cry ¶ Here maist thou see how Pray'r true repeÌ„tance Do strive with God prevaile and turn his sentence From strokes to stroking from plagues infernall To boundlesse Mercies and to life Eternall ¶ Till Zephyr lend my Barke a second Gale I slip mine Anchor and I strike my saile FINIS O dulcis Salvator Mundi ultima verba quae tu dixisti in Cruce sint ultima mea verba in Luce quando amplius effari non possum exaudi tu cordis mei desiderium A HYMNE to GOD. WHo gives me then an Adamantine quill A marble tablet And a Davids skill To blazon forth the praise of my deare Lord In deepe-grav'n Characters upon record To last for times etcâ—nall processe suer So long as Sunne and Moone and Starres endure Had I as many mouthes as Sands there are Had I a nimble tongue for every Starre And every word I speake a Character And every minutes time ten Ages were To chaunt forth all thy prayse it no'te availe For tongues words and time and all would faile Much lesse can I poore Weakling tune my tongue To take a taske befits an Angels song Sing what thou canst when thou canst sing no more Weepe then as fast that thou canst sing no more Beblurre thy booke with teares and go thy wayes For every blurre will prove a booke of prayse Thine eye that viewes the moving Spheares above Let it give praise to him that makes them move Thou riches hast Thy hands that hold have them Let them give praise to him that freely gave them Thine armes defend thee then for recompence Let them praise him that gave thee such defence Thy tongue was given to praise thy Lord the Giver Then let thy tongue praise highest God for ever Faith comes by hearing thy Faith will save thee TheÌ„ let thine cars prais him that hearing gave thee Thy bea rt is beg'd by him whose hands did make it My Sonne Give me thy Heart Lord freeâ—y take
Charity be wanting nought a vailes me ¶ Lord in my Soule a spirit of Love create me And I will love my Brother if he hate me In nought but love let me envy my betters And then Forgive my debts as I my detters 8. ¶ I Finde a true resemblance in the growth Of Sin and Man A like in breeding both The Soul 's the Mother and the Devill Syer Who lusting long in mutuall desier Enjoy their Wils and joyne in Copulation The Seed that fils her wombe is foule Tentation The sinnes Conception is the Soules coâ—sent And then it quickens when it breeds content The birth of Sin is finisht in the action And Custome brings it to its full perfection ¶ O let my fruitlesse Soule be barren rather Then bring forth such a Child for such a Father Or if my Soule breed Sinne not being wary Let not her wombe bring forth or else miscarry She is thy Spouse O Lord doe thou advise her Keepe thou her chast Let not the Fiend entice her Try thou my heart Thy Trials bring Salvation But let me not be led into temptation 9. ¶ FOrtune that blinde supposed Goddesse is Still rated at if ought suceed amisse 'T is shee the vaine abuse of Providence That beares the blame wheÌ„ others make th' offence When this mans barne finds not her wonted store Fortun 's condâ—mn'd because she sent no more If this man dye or that man live too long Fortun 's accus'd and she hath done the wrong Ah foolish Dolls and like â—our Goddesse blinde You make the fault and call your Saint unkinde For when the cause of Ev'll begins in Man Th' effect ensues from whence the cause began Then know the reason of thy discontent Thy ev'll of Sinne makes the Ev'll of punishment ¶ Lord hold me up or spurre mee when I fall So shall my Ev'll bee just or not at all Defend me from the World the Flesh the Devill And so thou shalt deliver me from Evill 10. ¶ THe Priestly Skirts of A'rons holy coate I kisse and to my morning Muse devote Had never King in any age or Nation Such glorious Robes set forth in such a fashion With Gold and Gemmes and Silks of Princely Dye And Stones befitting more than Majesty The Persian Sophies and rich Shaeba's Queene Had n'er the like nor e'r the like had seene Vpon the Skirts in order as they fell First a Pomegranat was and then a Bell By each Pomegranat did a Bell appeare Many Pomegranats many Bels there were Pomegranats nourish Bels doe make a sound As blessings fall Thanksgiving must rebound ¶ If thou wilt cloth my heart with A'rons tyer My tongue shall praise as well as heart desier My tongue and pen shall dwell upon thy Story Great God for thine is Kingdome Power Glory 11. ¶ THe Ancient Sophists that were so precise and oftentimes perchance too curious nice Averre that Nature hath bestow'd on Man Three perfect Soules When this I truly scan Me thinks their Learning swath'd in Errour lyes They were not wise enough and yet too wise Too curious wise because they mention more Then one Not wise enough because not foure Nature not Grace is Mistris of their Schooles Grace counts them wisest that are veriest Fooles Three Soules in man Grace doth a fourth allow The Soule of Faith But this is Greeke to you 'T is Faith that makes man truly wise 'T is Faith Makes him possesse that thing he never hath ¶ This Glorious Soule of Faith bestow on me O Lord or else take thou the other three Faith makes men lesse then Children more then Men It makes the Soule cry Abba and Amen The End PENTELOGIA Morstua Mors Christi Fraus Mundi Gloria Coeli Et Dâ—lor Inferni sunt meditanda tibi Thy death the death of Christ the worlds teÌ„tation Heavens joy hels torment be thy meditation LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1632. Mors tua 1. ¶ ME thinkes I see the nimble-aged Sire Passe swiftly by with feet unapt to tire Vpon his head an Hower-glasse he weares And in his wrinkled hand a Sythe he beares Both Instruments to take the lives from Men Th' one shewes with what the other sheweth when Me thinkes I heare the dolefull Passing-bell Setting an onset on his louder knell This moody musick of impartiall Death Who dances after dances out of breath Me thinkes I see my dearest friends lament With sighs and teares and wofull dryriment My tender Wife and Children standing by Dewing the Death-bed whereupon I lie Me thinkes I heare a voyce in secret say Thy glasse is runne and thou must die to day Mors Christi 2. ¶ ANd am I here and my Redeemer gone Can He be dead and is not my life done Was he tormented in excesse of measure And doe I live yet and yet live in pleasure Alas could Sinners finde out ne're a one More fit than Thee for them to spit upon Did thy cheekes entertaine a Traylors lips Was thy deare body scourg'd and torne with whips So that the guiltlesse blood came trickling after And did thy fainting browes sweat blood and water Wert thou Lord hang'd upon the Cursed Tree O world of griefe And was all this for me ¶ Burst forth my teares into a world of sorrow And let my nights of griefe finde ne're a morrow Since thou art dead Lord grant thy servant roome Within his heart to build thy heart a Tombe Fraus Mundi 3. ¶ WHat is the World a great exchange of warâ— Wherein all sorts sexes cheapning art The Flesh the Devill sit and cry What lacke ye When most they fawn they most intend to rack ye The wares are cups of Ioy and beds of Pleasure Ther 's goodly choice down weight flowing meâ—sure A soul 's the price but they give time to pay Vpon the Death-bed on the dying day ¶ Hard is the bargaine and unjust the measure When as the price so much out-lasts the pleasure The joyes that are on earth are counterfaits If ought be true 't is this Th' are true deceits They flatter fawne and like the Crocodile Kill where they laugh and murther where they smile They daily dip within thy Dish and cry Who hath betraid thee Master Is it I Gloria Coeli 4. ¶ VVHen I behold and well advise upon The Wisemans speech There 's nought beneath the Sun But vanity my soule rebels within And lothes the dunghill prison she is in But when I looke to new Ierusalem Wherein 's reserv'd my Crown my Diadem O what a Heaven of blisse my Soule enjoyes On sudden rapt into that heaven of Ioyes Where ravisht in the depth of meditation She well discernes with eye of contemplation The glory ' of God in his Imperiall Seat Full strong in Might in Majesty compleat Where troops of Powers Vertues Cherubims Angels Archangels Saints and Seraphims Are chaunting prayses to their heavenly King Where Hallelujah they for ever sing Dolor Inferni 5. ¶ LEt Poets please to torture Tanialus Let griping Vultures
Now when as Time had fitted ev'ry thing By course these Virgins came before the King Such was the custome of the Persian soyle Sixe months the Virgins bath'd in Myrâ—h Oyle Sixe months perfum'd in change of odours sweet That perfect lust and great excesse may meet What costly Robes rare Iewels rich attire Or curious Fare these Virgins did desire 'T was given and freely granted when they bring Their bodies to be prostrate to the King Each Virgin keepes her turne and all the night They lewdly lavish in the Kings delight And soone as â—orning shall restore the day They in their bosomes beare blacke night away And in their guilty breasts as are their sinnes Close prisoners in the house of Concubines Remaine untill the satiate King shall please To lend their pamper'd bodyes a râ—lease Now when the turne of Ester was at hand To satisfie the wanton Kings command Shee â—ought not as the rest with brave attire To lend a needlesse spurre t' unchast Desire Nor yet endeavours with a whorish Grace T'adulterate the beautie of her face Nothing she sought to make her glory braver But simply tooke what gentle Hege gave her Her sober â—â—sage daily wan her honour Each wandring eye inflam'd that look'd upon her Meditat. 5. WHen God had with his Al-producing Blast Blown up the bubble of the World plac't In order that which he had made in measure As well for necessary use as pleasure Then out of earthy mould he fram'd a creature Farre more Divine and of more glorious feature Than earst he made indu'd with understanding With strength victorious with awe commanding With Reason Wit repleate with Majesty With heavenly knowledge and Capacity True embleme of his Maker Him he made The sov'raigne Lord of all Him all obay'd Yeelding their lives as tribute to their King Both Fish and Bird and Beast and every thing His body 's rear'd upright and in his eye Stand radient beames of awfull sov'raignty All Creatures else poâ—e downward to the ground Man looks to heaven and all his thoughts rebound Vpon the Earth where tydes of pleasures mecro He treads and daily tramples with his feete Which reade sweet Lectures to his wandring eyes And teach his lustfull heart to moralize Naked he liv'd nak'd to the world he came For he had then nor fault to hide nor shame His state was levell and he had free will To stand or fall unforc't to good or ill Man had such state he was created in Within his pow'r a power not to sinne But Man was tempted yeelded sinn'd and fell Abus'd his free will lost it then befell A worse succeeding state who was created Complete is now become poore blinde and naked He 's drawne with head-strong bias unto ill Bereft of active pow'r to will or nill A blessed Saint's become a balefull Devill His free-will's onely stinted now to evill Pleasure 's his Lord and in his Ladies eyes His Christall Temple of devotion lyes Pleasures the white whereat he takes his levell Which too much wronged with the name of evill With best of blessings takes her lofty seat Greatest of goods and seeming best of great What 's good like Iron rusts for want of use And what is bad is worsed with abuse Pleasure whose apt and right ordained end Is but to sweeten labour and attend The frailty ' of man is now preferr'd so hie To be his Lord and beare the sov'raignty Ruling his slavish thoughts ignoble actions And gaines the conquest of his best affections Sparing no cost to bolster up delight But force vaine pleasures to unwonted height ¶ Who addes excesse unto a lustfull heart Commits a costly sin with greater Art THE ARGVMENT Ester's belov'd wedded crown'd A Treason Mordecai betrai'd The Trailors are pursu'd and â—ound And for that treason well appaid Sect. 6. NOw now the time is come faire Ester must Expose her beauty to the Letchers lust Now now must Ester stake her honour downe And hazzard Chastity to gaine a Crowne Gone gone she is attended to the Court And spends the evening in the Princes sport As when a Lady walking Flora's Bowre Picks here a Pincke and there a Gilly-flowre Now plucks a Vi'let from her purple bed And then a Primerose the yeares maiden-head There nips the Bryar here the Lovers Pauncy Shifting her dainty pleasures with her Fancy This on her arme and that she liâ—ts to weare Vpon the borders of her curious haire At length a Rose-bud passing all the rest She plucks and bosomes in her Lilly brest So when Assuerus tickled with delight Perceiv'd the beauties of those virgins bright He lik't them all but when with strict revye He viewed 〈◊〉 face his wounded eye Sparkl'd whilst Cupid with his youthfull Dart Transfixt the Center of his feeble heart Ester is now his joy and in her eyes The sweetest flower of his Garland lyes Who now but Ester Ester crownes his blisse And hee 's become her prisoner that was his Ester obtaines the prize her high desert Like Di'mond's richly mounted in his heart Iô now Iô Hymen sings for shee That crownes his joy must likewise crowned bee The Crowne is set on Princely Esters head Ester sits Queene in scornefull Voshties stead To consecrate this Day to more delights In due solemnizing the nuptiall rites In Esters name Assuerus made a Feast Invited all his Princes and releast The hard taxation that his heavy hand Laid on the subjects of his groning Land No rights were wanting to augment his joyes Great gifts confirm'd the bounty of his choyce Yet had not Esters lavish tongue descri'd Her Iewish kin or where she was aly'd For still the words of Mordecai did rest Within the Cabbin of her Royall breast Who was as pliant being now a Queene To sage advice as ere before sh 'ad beene It came to passe as Mardochaeus sate Within the Portall of the Princes gate He over-heard two servants of the King Closely combin'd in hollow whispering Like whistling Notus that foretels a raine To breathe out treason 'gainst their Soveraigne Which soone as loyall Mardochaeus heard Forthwith to Esters presence he repair'd Disclos'd to her and to her care commended The Traitors and the treason they intended Whereat the Queene impatient of delay Betraid the Traitors that would her betray And to the King unbosom'd all her heart And who her Newes-man was and his desert Now all on hurly-burly was the Court All tongues were fill'd with wonder and report The watch was set pursuit was made about To guard the King and finde the Traitors out Who found and guilty found by speedy tryall Where witnesse speaks what boots a bare deniall Were both hang'd up upon the shamefull tree To beare such fruit let trees ne're barren be And what successe this happy Day afforded Was in the Persian Chronicles recorded Meditat. 6. THe hollow Concave of a humane brest Is Gods Exchequer and therein the best And summe of all his chiefest wealth consists Which he shuts up and opens when
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
on his fainting head He strowed Dust and from his showring eyes Ran floods of sorrow and with bitter cryes His griefe saluted heaven his groanes did borrow No Art to draw the true pourtraict of sorrow Nor yet within his troubled brest alone Too small a stage for griefe to trample on Did Tyrant sorrow act her lively Sceane But did inlarge such griefe admits no meane The lawlesse limits of her Theater i th' hearts of all the Iewish Nation where With no dissembled Action she exprest The lively Passion of a pensive brest Forthwith he posteth to the Palace gate T' acquaint Queene Ester with his sad estate But found no entrance for the Persian Court Gave welcome to delights and youthly sport To jolly mirth and such delightfull things Soft rayment best befits the Courts of Kings There lyes no welcome for a whining face A mourning habit suits no Princely Place Which when the Maids and Eunuchs of the Queen Vnable of themselves to helpe had seene Their Royall Mistresse straight they did acquaint With the dumb-shew of her sad Cousins plaint Whereat till now a stranger to the cause Perplext and forced by the tender Lawes Of deare affection her gentle heart Did sympathize with his conceived smart She sent him change of rayment to put on To vaile his griefe But he received none Then sore dismai'd impatient to forbeare The knowledge of the thing she fear'd to heare She sent her servant to him to importune What sudden Chance or what disast'rous fortune Had caus'd this strange and ill-apparell'd griefe That she if in her lyes may send reliefe To whom his sorrowes made this sad Relation And this the tenor of his Declaration Hamans that cursed Hamans haughty pride Because my 〈◊〉 deservedly denyde To make 〈◊〉 Idoll of his greatnesse hath Incenst the fury of his jealous wrath And profer'd lavish bribes to buy the blood Of me and all the faithfull Iewish brood In here the copy granted by the King Sul'd in his name confirmed with his Ring 〈◊〉 of the which into his hands 〈◊〉 Haman hath ingrost our lives our lands 〈◊〉 tell the Queene it resteth in her powers To helpe the case is â—ers as well as Ours 〈◊〉 tell my cousin Queene it is her charge To use the meanes whereby she may inlarge Hâ—â— aged kinsmans life and all her Nation Preferring to the King her supplication Meditat. 9. WHo hopes t' attain the sweet Elysian Layes To reap the harvest of his wel-spent daies Must passe the joylesse streames of Acaron The scorching waves of burning Phlegeton And sable billowes of the Stygian Lake Thus sweet with sowre each mortall must partake What joyfull Harvester did ere obtaine The sweet fruition of his hopefull gaine Vntill his hardy labours first had past The Summers heat and stormy Winters blast A sable night returnes a shining morrow And dayes of joy ensue sad nights of sorrow The way to blisse lyes not on beds of Downe And he that had no Crosse deserves no Crowne There 's but one Heav'n one place of perfect ease In man it lies to take it where he please Above or here below And few men doe Injoy the one and tast the other too Sweating and constant labour wins the Goale Of Rest Afflictions clarifie the soule And like hard Masters give more hard directionâ— Tut'ring the nonage of uncurb'd affections Wisedome the Antidote of sad despayre Makes sharpe Afflictions seeme not as they are Through patient sufferance and doth apprehend Not as they seeming are but as they end To beare Affliction with a bended brow Or stubborne heart is but to disallow The speedy meanes to health salve heales no sore If mis-apply'd but makes the griefe the more Who sends Affliction sends an end and He Best knows what 's best for him what 's best for me 'T is not for me to carve me where I like Him pleases when he list to stroke or strike I le neither wish nor yet avoid Tentation But still expect it and make preparation If he thinke best my Faith shall not be tryde Lord keep me spotless from presumptuous pride If otherwise with tryall give me care By thankfull patience to prevent Despaire Fit me to beare what e're thou shalt assigne I kisse the Rod because the Rod is thine How-ere let me not boast nor yet repine With tryall or without Lord make me thinâ— THE ARGVMENT Her ayd implor'd the Queene refuses To helpe them and her selfe excuses But urg'd by Mordecai consents To die or crosse their foes intents Sect. 10. NOw when the servant had returrn'd the words Of wretched Mordecai like pointed swords They neere impierc't Queene Esters tender heart That well could pity but no helpe impart â—allac'd with griefe and with the burthen foyld Like Ordnance over-charg'd she thus recoyl'd Gâ—â— Hatach tell my wretched kinsman thus The case concernes not you alone but us 〈◊〉 the subject of proud Hamans hate As well as you our life is pointed at As well as yours or as the meanest Iew Nâ—â— can I helpe my selfe nor them nor you You know the Custome of the Persian State No King may breake no subject violate How may I then presume to make accesse â—â—fore th' offended King or rudely presse Vâ—call'd into his presence How can I Expect my suit and have deserâ—'d to dye May my desiers hope to find successe When to â—ffect them I the Law transgresse Thâ—se thirty dayes uncall'd for have I bin 〈◊〉 my Lord How dare I now goe in Gâ—â— Hatach aâ—d returne this heavy newes 〈…〉 the truth of my vnforc'd excuse Whereof when Mordecai was full possest His troubled Soule he boldly thus exprest Goe tell the fearfull Queene too great 's her feare Too small her zeale her life she rates too deare How poore's th' adventure to ingage thy blood To save thy peoples life and Churches good To what advantage canst thou more expose Thy life than this Th' ast but a life to lose Thinke not thy Greatnesse can excuse our death Or save thy life thy life is but a breath As well as ours Great Queene thou hop'st in raine In saving of a life a life to gaine Who knowes if God on purpose did intend Thy high preferment for this happy end If at this needfull time thou spare to speake Our speedy helpe shall like the morning breake From heaven together with thy woes and he That succours us shall heape his plagues on thee Which when Queen Ester had right well perus'd And on each wounding word had sadly mus'd Startled with zeale not daring to deny She rouz'd her faith and sent this meeke reply Since heaven it is endowes each enterprize With good successe and onely in us lies To plant and water let us first obtaine Heavens high assistance lest the worke be vaine Let all the Iewes in Susa summon'd â—e And keepe a solemne three dayes Fast and we With all our servants and our maiden traine Shall fast as long and from our thoughts abstaine Then to the King
uncall'd will I repaire Howe'r my boldnesse shall his Lawes contraire And brauely welcome Death before mine eye And scorne her power If I dye I dye Meditat. 10. AS in the winged Common-wealth of Bees Whose carefull Summer-providence foresees Th' approching fruitlesse Winter which denies The crowne of labour some with laden thighs Take charge to beare their waxy burthens home Others receive the welcome load and some Dispose the waxe others the plot contrive Some build the curious Comb some guard the Hive Like armed Centinels others distreine The purer honey from the waxe some traine And discipline the young while others drive The sluggish Drones from their deserved Hive Thus in this Common-wealth untaught by Art Each winged Burger acts his busie part So man whose first creation did intend And chiefly pointed at no other end Then as a faithfull Steward to receive The Fine and quit-rent of the lives we live Must suit his deare indeavour to his might Each one must lift to make the burthen light Proving the power that his gifts afford To raise the best advantage for his Lord Whose substitute he is and for whose sake We live and breath each his account must make Or more or lesse and he whose power lacks The meanes to gather honey must bring waxe Five Talents double five two render foure Wher 's little little 's crav'd where much there 's more Kings by their Royall priviledge may do What unbefits a mind to search into But by the force of their prerogatives They cannot free the custome of their lives The silly Widow from whose wrinkled browes Faint drops distill through labour that she owes Her needy life must make her Audite too As well as Kings and mighty Monarks doe The world 's a Stage each mortall Acts thereon As well the King that glitters on the throne As needy beggers Heav'n Spectator is And markes who acteth well and who amisse ¶ What part befits me best I cannot tell It matters not how meane so acted well THE ARGVMENT Vnto the King Queene Ester goes He unexpected favour showes Demands her suit she doth request The King and Haman to a Feast Sect. 11. WHen as Queen Esters solemne 3. daies Fast Had feasted heaven with a sweet repast Her lowly bended body she unbow'd And like faire Titan breaking from a cloud She rose and with her Royall Robe she clad Her livelesse limmes and with a face as sad As griefe could paint wanting no Art to borrow A needlesse helpe to counterfeit a sorrow Softly she did direct her feeble pace Vnto the inner Court where for a space She boldly stood before the Royall Throne Like one that would but durst not make her mone Which when her princely husband did behold His heart relented Fortune helpes the bold And to expresse a welcome unexpected Forth to the Queene his Scepter he directed Whom now imboldned to approch secur'd In gracious termes he gently thus conjur'd What is 't Queene Ester would What sad request Hangs on her lips dwells in her doubtfull brest Say say my lifes preserver what 's the thing That lyes in the performance of a King Shall be deny'd Faire Queenâ— what e're is mint Vnto the moity of my Kingdome 's thine So Ester thus If in thy Princely eyes Thy loyall Servant hath obtain'd the prize Of undeserved favor let the King And Haman grace my this dayes-banquetting To crowne the dainties of his handmaids Feast Humbly devoted to so great a Guest The motion pleas'd and fairly well succeeded To willing minds no twice intreaty needed They came but in Queene Esters troubled face Robd of the sweetnesse of her wonted grace The King read discontent her face divin'd The greatnesse of some further suit behind Say say thou bountâ—ous harvest of my joyes Said then the King what dumpish griefe annoyes Thy troubled soule Speake Lady what 's the thing Thy heart desires By th' onour of a King My Kingdomes halfe requested I 'le divide To faire Queene Ester to my fairest Bride Lâ— then the tenour of my deare request Repli'd the Queene unto a second Feast Thy humble Suitor doth presume to bid The King and Haman as before she did Now therefore if it please my gracious Lord To daigâ—e his Royall presence and afford The peerlesse treasure of hiâ— Princeâ—y Grace To dry the sorrowes of his Handmaids face Then to my Kingly and thrice-welcome Guest His servant shall unbosome her Request Medita 11. HE that invites his Maker to a Feast Advising well the greatnesse of his Guest Must purge his dining chamber from infections And sweepe the Cobwebs of his lewd affections And then provide such Cates as most delight His Palate and best please his Appetite And such are holy workes and pious deeds These are the dainties whereon heaven feeds Faith plaies the Cook seasons directs and guides So man findes meate so God the Cooke provides His drinke are teares sprung from a midnight cry Heaven sips out Nectar from a sinners eye The dining chamber is the soule opprest God keepes his revells in a Sinners brest The musicke that attends the Feast are grones Deep-founding sighes and loud lamenting moneâ— Heav'n heares no sweeter musick than complaints The Fasts of sinners are the Feasts of Saints To which heav'n dains to stoop heav'ns hie King Descends whilst all the quire of Angels sing And with such sense-bereaving Sonets fill The hearts of wretched men that my rude quill Dazeld with too much light it selfe addressing To blaze them forth obscures theÌ„ in th' expressing Thrice happy man and thrice-thrice happy Feast Grac'd with the presence of so great a Guest To him are freely giv'n the privy keyes Of heav'n and earth to open when he please And locke when e're he liâ—t In him it lyes To ope the showring flood-gates of the skies Or shut them at his pleasure in his hand The Host of heaven is put if he command The Sunne not daring to withstand obeyes Out-runnes his equall howres flies back or stayes To him there 's nought uneasie to atchieve Hee le rouze the graves and make the dead alive ¶ Lord I 'me unfit t' invite thee to my home My Caâ—es are all too coorse too meane my Roome Yet come and welcome by thy pow'r Divine Thy Grace may turne my Water into Wine THE ARGVMENT Good Mordecai's unreverence Great Hamans haughty pride offends H'acquaints his wife with the offence The counsell of his wife and friends Sect. 12. THat day went Haman forth for his swolne brest Was fill'd with joyes and heart was full possest Of all the height Ambition could require To satisfie her prodigall Desire But when he passed through the Palace Gate His eye-sore aged Mardocheus sate With head unbar'd and stubborne knee unbenâ— Vnapt to fawne with slavish blandishment Which when great Haman saw his boyling brest So great disdaine unable to digest Ran o're his blood grew hot and new desires Incenst and kindled his avenging fires Surcharg'd with griefe and sick with male-content
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
to boot Denounc'd to him that takes from or ads too 't True 't is the Law of God's the rule and squire Whereby to limit Mans uncurb'd desire And with a gentle hand doth justly paize The ballances of his unbevell'd wayes True 't is accurs'd and thrice accurs'd be he That shall detract or change such Lawes as be Directive for his Worship or concerne His holy Serviceâ— these we strictly learne Within our constant brest to keepe inshrin'd These in all seasons and for all times binde But Lawes although Divine that doe respect Thy publike rest and properly direct As Statutes politike doe make relation To times and persons places and occasion The brazen Serpent which by Gods command Was builded up was by the Prophets hand Beat downe againe as impious and impure When it became an Idoll not a Cure ¶ A morall Law needs no more warranty Then lawfull givers and conveniency Not crossing the Divine It lies in Kings To act and to inhibit all such things As in his Princely wisedome shall seeme best And most vantagious to the publike rest And what before was an indifferent thing His law makes good or bad A lawfull King Is Gods Liev-tenant in his sacred eare God whispers oft and keepes his presence there◠¶ To breake a lawfull Princes just Command Is brokage of a sinne at second hand THE ARGVMENT Assuerus Acts upon Record The just mans vertue and reward Sect. 20. ANd Assuerus stretcht his heavy hand Laying a Tribute both on Sea and Land What else he did what Trophies of his fame He left for time to glorifie his Name With what renowne and grace he did appay The faithfull heart of loyall Mordecai Are they not kept in endlesse memory Recorded in the Persian History For Mordecai possest the second seat In all the Kingdome and his name is great Of God and man his-vertues were approv'd Of God and man much honour'd and belov'd Seeking his peoples good and sweet prosperity And speaking joyfull peace to his posterity Meditat. 20. THus thrives the man thus prosper his endevors That builds on faith in that faith persevers ¶ It is no losse to lose no gaine to get If he that loses all shall win the Set God helpes the weakest takes the losers chayre And setting on the King doth soone repayre His losse with vengeance Hee 's not alway best That takes the highest place nor he the least That sits beneath for outward fortunes can Expresse how great but not how good 's the man Whom God will raise he humbles first a while And where he raises oft he meanes to spoyle ¶ It matters not Lord what my fortunes be May they but lead or whip me home to thee Here the Canonicall History of Queene ESTER ends IOB MILITANT Horat. car lib. 1. ode 17. Dijs piet as mea Et Musa cordi est By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER 1632. The Proposition of the WORKE WOuldst thou discover in a curious Map That Iland which fond worldlings call Mishap Surrounded with a sea of briny tears The rockie dangers and the boggie Feares The stormes of Trouble the afflicted Nation The heavy soyle the lowly scituation On wretched Iob then spâ—nd thy weeping eye And see the colour painted curiously Wouldst thou behold a Tragick Sceane of sorrow Whose wofull Plot the Author did not borrow From sad invention The sable Stage The lively Actors with their equipage The Musicke made of Sighs the Songs of Cries The sad Spectators with their watry Eyes Behold all this comprized here in one Expect the Plaudit when the Play is done Or wouldst thou see a well built Pinace tost Vpon the swelling Ocean split almost Now on a churlish Rocke now fiercely striving With labouring Winds now desperately driving Vpon the boyling Sands her storme-rent Flags Her Main-mast broke her Canvas torne to rags Her Treasure lost her men with lightning slaine And left a wrecke to the relentlesse Maine This this and more unto your moistned Eyes Our patient Iob shall lively moralize Wouldst thou behold unparalleld distresse Which minds cannot out-think nor tongs express Full to the life the Anvill whereupon Mischiefe doth worke her master-piece for none To imitate the dire Anatomy Of curiously-dissected Misery The face of Sorrow in her sternest lookes The rufull Arg'ment of all Tragicke bookes In briefe Would tender eyes endure to see Summ'd up the greatest sorrowes that can be Behold they then poore Iob afflicted here And each Beholder spend at least his Teare TO THE GREAT TETRAGRAMMATON LORD PARAMOVNT OF HEAVEN AND EARTH His Humble Servant dedicates himselfe and implores the Enfranchising of his Muse. 1 GReat God th'indebted praises of thy glory If Man shold smother or his Muse wax faint To number forth the stones wold make complaint And write a never-ending Story And not without iust reason say Mens hearts are more obdure than they 2 Dismount from Heaven O thou diviner Power Handsell my slender Pipe breath thou upon it That it may run an everlasting Sonnet Which envious Time may not devoure Oh let it sing to After-dayes When I am Dust thy louder Praise 3 Direct the footsteps of my sober Muse To tread thy glorious path For be it knowne She only seeks thy Glory not her owne Nâ—rrouzed for a second use If otherwise O! may she never Sing more but be strucke dumbe for ever IOB MILITANT THE ARGVMENT Iobs Lineage and Integrity His Issue Wealth Prosperity His childrens holy Feast His wise Forecast and zealous Sacrifiâ—e Sect. 1. NOt far from Casius in whoâ—e bounteous womb Great Pompeys dust lies crowned with his tomb Westward betwixt Arabia and Iudaea Is situate a Country called Idumaea There dwelt a man brought from his Lineage That for his belly swopt his Heritage His name was Iob a man of upright Will Iust fearing Heaven eschewing what was Ill On whom his God had heapd in highest measure The bounteous Riches of his boundlesse Treasure As well of Fortune as of Grace and Spirit Goods for his Children Children to inherit As did his Name his wealth did dayly wexe His Seed did germinate in either Sexe A hopefull Issue whose descent might keepe His righteous Race on foot seven thousand sheepe Did pay their Summer-tribute and did adde Their Winter blessings to his Fold He had Three thousand Camels able for their load Five hundred Asses furnisht for the road As many yoake of Oxen to maintaine His houshold for he had a mighty Traine Nor was there any in the East the which In Vertue was so rare in Wealth so rich Vpon a time his Children to improve The sweet affection of their mutuall love Made solemne Feasts each feasted in his turne For there 's a time to mirth as well as mourne And who by course was Master of the Feast Vnto his home invited all the rest Even as a Hen whose tender brood forsake The downy closet of her Wings and take Each its affected way markes how they feed This on that Crum
it lighter 'T is a Gold Chain links soule and soule together In perfect Vnity tyes God to either Affliction is the touch whereby we prove Whether 't be Gold or gilt with fained Love The wisest Moralist that ever div'd Into the depth of Natures bowels striv'd With th' Augur of Experience to bore Mens hearts so farre till he had found the Ore Of Friendship but despairing of his end My friends said he there is no perfect Friend Friendship 's like Musicke two strings tun'd alike Will both stirre though but onely one you strike It is the quintessence of all perfection Extracted into one A sweet connexion Of all the Vertues Morall and Divine Abstracted into one It is a Mine Whose nature is not rich unlesse in making The state of others wealthy by partaking It bloomes and blossomes both in Sun and shade Doth like the Bay in winter never fade It loveth all and yet suspecteth none Is provident yet seeketh not her owne 'T is rare it selfe yet maketh all things common And is judicious yet it judgeth no man The noble Theban being asked which Of three propounded he suppos'd most rich In vertues sacred treasure thus reply'd Till they be dead that doubt cannot be tryde It is no wisemâ—ns part to weigh a Friend Without the glosse and goodnesse of his End For Life without the death considered can Afford but halfe a Story of the Man 'T is not my friends affliction that shall make Me either Wonder Censure or Forsake Iudgement belongs to Fooles enough that I Find he 's afflicted not enquier why It is the hand of Heaven that selfe-same sorrow Grieves him to day may make me grone to morrow Heaven be my comfort In my highest griefe I will not trust to Mans but Thy reliefe THE ARGVMENT Iob counts his sorrowes and from thence Excuses his impatience Describes the shortnesse of Mans Time And makes confession of his Crime Sect. 8. BVt wretched Iob sigh't forth these words said Ah me that my Impatience were weigh'd With all my Sorrowes by an equall hand They would be found more pondrous then the sand That lies upon the new-forsaken shore My griefes want utterance haue stopt their dore And woÌ„der not heav'ns shafts have struck me dead And God hath heapt all mischiefes on my head Will Asses bray when they have grasse to eate Or lowes the Oxe when as hee wants no meat Can palates finde a relish in distast Or can the whites of Egges well please the tast My vexed soule is dayly fed with such Corruptions as my hands disdaine to touch Alas that Heav'n would heare my hearts request And strike me dead that I may find some rest What hopes have I to see my end of griefe And to what end should I prolong my life Why should not I wish Death My strength alas Is it like Marble or my flesh like Brasse What power have I to mitigate my paine If e're I had that power now is vaine My friends are like the Rivers that are dry In heat of Summer when necessity Requireth water They amazed stand To see my griefe but lend no helping hand Friends beg I succour from you Craved I Your Goods to ransome my Captivity Shew me my faults and wherein I did wrong My Patience and I will hold my tongue The force of reasonable words may moove But what can Rage or Lunacie reproove Rebuke you then my words to have it thought My speech is franticke with my griefe distraught You take a pleasure in your friends distresse That is more wretched than the fatherlesse Behold these sores Be judg'd by your owne eyes If these be counterfeited miseries Ballance my words and you shall finde me free From these foule crimes wherewith ye branded me And that my speech was not distain'd with sin Onely the language sorrow treated in Is not mans day prefixt which when expir'd Sleepes â—e not quiet as a servant hir'd A servants labour doth at length surcease His Day of travell findes a Night of peace But wretched I with woes am still oprest My mid-day torments see no Even of Rest My nights ordain'd for sleep are fill'd with griefe I looke in vaine for the next dayes reliefe With dust and wormes my flesh is hid my sorrowes Have plow'd my skin and filth lyes in her furrows My dayes of ioy are in a moment gone And hopelesse of returning spent and done Remember Lord my life is but a puffe I but a man that 's misery enough And when pale death hath once seald up my sight I ne're shall see the pleasures of the light The eye of Man shall not discover me No nor thine Lord for I shall cease to be When mortalls dye they passe like clouds before The Sun and backe returne they never more T' his earthly house he ne're shall come agin And then shall be as if he ne're had bin Therfore my tongue shal speak while it hath breath Prompted with griefe and with the pangs of death Am I not weake and faint what needst thou stretch Thy direfull hand upon so poore a wretch When as I thinke that night shall stop the streames Of my distress thou frightst me then with dreams So that my soule doth rather choose to dye Than be involved in such misery My life 's a burthen and will end O grieve No longer him that would no longer live Ah! what is Man thaâ— thou should'st raise him so High at the first then sinke him downe so low What 's man thy glory 's great enough without him Why dost thou thus disturb thy mind about him Lord I have sinn'd Great Helper of Mankind I am but Dust and Ashes I have sinn'd Against theâ— as a marke why hast thou fixt me How have I trespast that thou thus afflict'st mo Why rather didst thou not remoue my sin And salve the sorrowes that I raved in For thou hast heapt such vengeance on my head That when thou seekst me thou wilt find me dead Meditat. 8. TH'Egyptians amidst their sollemne Feasts Vsed to welcome and present their Guests With the sad sight of Mans Anatomy Serv'd in with this loud Motto All must dye Fooles often goe about when as they may Take better vantage of a neerer way Looke well into your bosomes doe not flatter Your knowne infirmities Behold what matter Your flesh was made of Man cast back thine eye Vpon the weaknesse of thine Infancye See how thy lips hang on thy mothers Brest Bawling for helpe more helplesse then a Beast Liv'st thou to childhood then behold what toies Doe mocke the sense how shallow are thy joyes Com'st thou to downy yeares see how deceits Gull thee with golden fruit and with false baits Slily beguile the prime of thy affection Art thou attain'd at length to full perfection Of ripened yeares Ambition hath now sent Thee on her frothy errand Discontent Payes thee thy wages Doe thy grizly haires Begin to cast account of many cares Vpon thy head The sacred lust of gold Now fits
thy spirit for fleshly lust too cold Makes thee a slave to thine owne base desire Which melts and hardens at the selfe-same Fire Art thou deâ—repit Then thy very breath Iâ— grievous to thee and each griefe 's a death Looke where thou list thy life is but a span Thou art but dust and to conclude A Man Thy life 's a Warfare thou a Souldier art Satan's thy Foe-man and a faithfull Heart Thy two-edg'd Weapon Patience thy Shield Heaven is thy Chiefetain and the world thy Field To be afraid to dye or wish for death Are words and passions of despairing breath Who doth the first the day doth faintly yeeld And who the second basely flies the field Man 's not a lawfull Stearsman of his dayes His bootlesse wish nor hastens nor delayes We are Gods hired Workmen he discharges Some late at night and when he list inlarges Others at noone and in the morning some None may relieve himselfe till he bid Come If we receive for one halfe day as much As they that toyle till evening shall we grutch Our life 's a Road in death our Iourney ends We goe on Gods Embassage some he sends Gall'd with the â—â—otting of hard Misery And others pacing on Prosperity Some lagge whilest others gallop on before All goe an end some faster and some slower Lead me that pase great God that thou think'st best And I will follow with a dauntlesse brest Which ne'rethelesse if I refuse to doe I shall be wicked and yet follow to Assist me in my Combat with the flesh Relieve my fainting powers and refresh My feeble spirit I will not wish to be Cast from the world Lord cast the world from me THE ARGVMENT Bildad mans either state expresses Gods Mercy and Iustice Iob confesses He pleads his cause and begs reliefe Foild with the burthen of his griefe Sect. 9. SO Bildads silence great with tongue did breake And like a heartlesse Comforter did speake How long wilt thou persist to breathe thy minde In words that vanish as a storme of winde Will God forsake the innocâ—nt or will His Iustice smite thee undeserving ill Though righteous death thy sinfull sons hath rent From thy sad bosome yet if thou repent And wash thy wayes with undissembled teares Tuning thy troubles to th' Almighties eares The mercy of his eyes shall shine upon thee And shoure the sweetnesse of his blessings on thee And though a while thou plunge in misery At length hee l crowne thee with prosperity Run backe and â—earne of sage Antiquity What our late births to present times deny See how and what in the worlds downy age Befell our Fathers in their Pilgrimage If Rushes have no mire and Grasse no raine They cease to flourish droop their heads â— waine So fades the man whose heart is not upright So perisheth the double Hypocrite His hopes are like the Spiders web to day That 's flourishing to morrow swept away But he that 's just is like the flowting tree Rooted by Chrystall Springs that cannot be Scorcht by the noone of day nor stird from thence Where firmely fixt it hath a residence Heavenâ—never failes the soule that is upright Nor offers arme to the base Hypoâ—rite The one he blesses with eternall joyes The other his avenging hand destroyes I yeeld it for a truth sad Iob reply'd Compar'd with God can man be justifi'd If man should give account what he hath done Not of a thousand can he answer one His hand 's all-Power and his heart all pure Against this God what man can stand secure He shakes the Mounâ—aines and the Sun he barres From circling his due course shuts up the Starres He spreades the Heavens and rideth on the Flood His workes may be admir'd not understood No eye can see no heart can apprehend him Lists he to spoile what 's he can reprehenâ— hâ—m His Will 's his Law The smoothest pleader hath No power in his lips to slake his Wrath Much lesse can I pleade faire immunity Which could my guiltlesse tongue attaine yet I Would kisse the Footstep of his Iudgement-seat Should he receive my cry my griefe 's so great It would perswade me that he heard it not For he hath torne me with the five-fold knot Of his sharpe Scourge his plagues successive are That I can finde no ground but of Despaire If my â—â—old lips should dare to justifie My selfe my lips would give my lips the lye God owes his mercy nor to good nor bad The wicked oft he spares and oft does adde Griefe to the just mans griefe woes after woes We must not judge man as his Market goes But might my prayers obtaine this boone that God Would cease those sorrowes and remove that Rod Which moves my patience I would take upon me T'implead before him your rash judgement on me Because my tender Conscience doth perswade mee I 'me not so bad as your bad Words have made me My life is tedious my distresse shall breake Into her proper Voyce my griefes shall speake Iust â—udge of Earth condemne me not before Thou please to make me understand wherefore Agrees it with thy Iustice thus to be Kinde to the wicked and so harsh to Me Seest thou with fleshly eyes or doe they glance By favour Are they clos'd with Ignorance Liv'st thou the life of man Dost thou desire A space of time to search or to enquire My sinne No in the twinkling of an eye Thou seest my heart seest my Immunity From those foule crimes wherewith my friends at pleasure Taxe me yet thou afflict'st me in this Measure Thy hands have form'd and fram'd me what I am Whâ—n thou hast made wilt thou destroy the same Remember I am built of Clay and must Returne againe without thy helpe to Dust. Thou didst create preserve me hast indu'd My life with gracious blessings oft renew'd Thy precious favours on me How wert thou Once so benigne and so cruell now Thou hunt'st me like a Prey my plagues encrease Succeed each other and they never cease Why was I borne Or why did not my Tombe Receive me weeping from my mothers wombe I have not long to live Lord grant that I May see some comfort that am soone to dye Meditat. 9. HE that 's the truest Master of his owne Is never â—esse alone than when alone His watchfull eyes are plac't within his heart His skill is how to know himselfe his Art How to command the pride of his Affections With sacred Reason how to give directions Vnto his wandring Will His conscience checks hiâ— More looser thoughts His 〈◊〉 sins she vexes With frights and feares within her owne precincts She rambles with her Whips of wire ne're 〈◊〉 At smallest faults like as a tender Mother How e're she loves her darling will not 〈◊〉 His childish fault but shee her selfe will rather Correct than trust him to his angry Fatâ—â—er Even so the tender Conscience of the wise Cheâ—ks her beloved soule and doth chastise And Iudge the crime it selfe lest it
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
attaine The rare discovery of so high a straine Dive to the depth of darknesse and the deepes Renounce this Wisdome The wide Ocean keepes Her not inclos'd 'T is not the purest Gold Can purchase it or heapes of silver told The Pearles and peerlesse Treasures of the East Refined Gold and Gemmes are all the least Of nothings if compar'd with it as which Earths masse of treasure summ'd is not so rich Where rests the wisedome then If men enquire Below they finde her not or if they higher Soare with the Prince of Fowles they stil despaire The more they seeke the further off they are Ah friends how more than men how Eagle-eyd Are you to see what to the world beside Was daâ—ke To you alone in trust was given To search into the high Decrees of Heaven You read his Oracles you understand To riddle forth mans fortunes by his hand Your wisedomes have a priviledge to know His secret Smiling from his angry Brow Let shame prevent your lips recant and give To the Almighty his prerogative To him the searching of mens hearts belong Mans judgement sinks no deeper than the tongue He overlookes the World and in one space Of time his Eye is fixt on every place He waighes the Waters ballances the Ayre What e're hath Being did his hands prepare He wills that Mortalls be not over-wise Nor judge his Secrets with censorious eyes Medit. 14. T Is Vertue to flye Vice there 's none more stouâ— Than he that ventures to picke vertue out Betwixt a brace of Vices Dangers stand Threatning his ruine upon either hand His Card must guide him lest his Pinnace run Vpon Charybdis while it Scylla shun In moderation all Vertue lyes T is greater folly to be over-wise Than rudely ignorant The golden meane Is but to know enough safer to leane To Ignorance than Curiosity For lightning blasts the Mountaines that are highâ— The first of men from hence deserv'd his fall He sought for secrets and found death withall Secrets are unfit objects for our eyes They blinde us in beholding He that tryes To handle water the more hard he straines And gripes his hand the lesse his hand retaines The mind that 's troubled with that pleasing itch Of knowing Secrets having flowne a pitch Beyond it selfe the higher it ascends And strives to know the lesse it apprehends That secret Wiseman is an open Foole Which takes a Counsell-chamber for a Schoole The eye of Man desires no farther light Than to descry the object of his sight And rests contented with the Suns reflection But lab'ring to behold his bright complexion If it presume t' out-face his glorious Light The beames bereave him justly of his sight Even so the mind should rest in what 's reveal'd But over-curious if in things conceald She wades too farre beyond her depth unbounded Her knowledge will be lost and she confounded Farre safer 'tis of things unsure to doubt Than undertake to riddle secrets out It was demanded once What God did doe Before the World he framed Whereunto Answer was made He built a Hell for such As are too curious and would know too much Who flyes with Icarus his feathers shall Have Icarus his fortunes and his fall Anoble Prince whose bounteous hand was bent To recompence his servants faith and vent The earnest of his favors did not profer But wild him boldly to prevent his offer Thankfull he thus replyed Then grant vnto me 〈…〉 With-â—old thy Princely secrets from me That holy Man in whose familiar eare Heavn oft had thundred might not come too near The Temple must have Curtaines mortall hearts Must rest content to see his Hinder-parts I care not Lord how farre thy Face be off If I but kisse thy Hand I have enough THE ARGVMENT Iob wisheth his past happinesse Shewes his state present doth confesse That God's the Authâ—r of his griefe Relates the purenesse of his life Sect. 15. OH that I were as happy as I was When Heavens bright favours shone upon my face And pâ—sperd my affaires inricht my joyes When all my sonnes could answer to my voyce Then did my store and thriving flocks encrease Offended Iustice sought my hands for peace Old men did honour and the young did feare mee Princes kept silence when I spake to heare me I heard the poore reliev'd the widowes cry Orphans I succour'd was the blind mans eye The Cripples foote my helplesse brothers drudge The poore mans Father and th'oppressors Iâ—dge I then supposed that my dayes long Lease Would passe in plenty and expire in peace My Rootes were fixed and my Branches sprung My Glory blaz'd my Power grew daily strong I speaking men stood mute my speeches mov'd All hearts to joy by all men were approv'd My kindly words were welcome as a latter Raine and were Oracles in a doubtfull matter O sudden change I 'm turn'd a laughing 〈◊〉 To boyes and those that su'd to tend my flock And such whose huÌ„gry waÌ„ts have taught their haÌ„ds To scrape the earth and digge the barren lands For hidden rootes wherewith they might appeasâ— Their Tyran ' stomacks these even very these Flout at my sorrowes and disdaining me Point with theire fingers and cry This is he My honour 's foyl'd my troubled spirit lies Wide open to the worst of injuries Where ere I turne my sorrow new appeares I 'me vext abroad with flouts at home with feares My soule is faint and nights that should give â—ase To tyred spirits make my griefes encrease I loath my Carkeise for my ripened sores Have chang'd my garments colour with their coresâ— But what is worst of worsts Lord often I Have cry'd to thee a stranger to my cry Though perfect Clemency thy nature bee Though kinde to all thou art unkinde to me I nere waxt pale to see another thrive Nor e're did let my ' afflicted brother strive With teares alone but I poore I tormented Expect for succour and am unlamented I mourne in silence languish all alone As in a Desart am reâ—iev'd by none My sores have dy'd my skin with filth still turning My joyes to griefe and all my mirth to mourning My Heart hath past Indentures with mine Eye Not tâ— behold a Maid for what should I Expect from heaven but a deserv'd reward Earn'd by so foule a sinne for death 's prepar'd And flames of wrath are blowne for such Doth Hâ— Noâ— know my actions that so well knowes mee If I have lent my hand to slye deceit Or if my steps have not beene purely strait What I have sowne then let a stranger eate And root my Plants untimely from their seate If I with Lust have e'â—e distain'd my life Or beene defiled with anothers Wife In equall Iustice let my Wife be knowne Of all and let me reape as I have sowne For Lust that burneth in a sinfull brest Till it hath burnt him too shall never rest If e're my haste did treat my Servant ill Without desert making my power my Will Then how should I before
's an Index to Eternity And gives a glance of what our cleerer eye In time shall see at large nothing's so slight Which in it nature sends not forth some light Or Memorandum of his Makers Glory No Dust so vile but pens an ample story Of the Almighties power nor is there that Which gives not man just cause to wonder at Cast down thine eies behold the pregnant earth Her selfe but one produceth at one birth A world of divers natures From a seed Entirely one things hot and cold proceed She suckles with one milke things moist and dry Yet in her wombe is no repugnancy Or shall thy reason ramble up so high To view the Court of wilde Astronomy Behold the Planets round about thine eares Whirling like firebals in their restlesse Spheares At one selfe-instant moving severall wayes Still measuring out our short and shorter dayes Behold the parts whereon the World consists Are limited in their appointed lists Without rebellion unapt to vary Though being many divers and contrary Looke where we list above bâ—neath or under Our eyes shall see to learne and learne to wonder Their depth shall drown our judgements and their height Besides his wits shal drive the prime coÌ„ceit Shall then our daring minds presume t' aspire To heavens hid Myst'ries shall our thoughts inquirâ— Into the depth of secrets unconfounded When in the shoare of Nature they were drowned Fond man be wise strive not above thy strength Tempt not thy Barke beyond her Cables length And like Prometheus filch no sacred fire Lest Eagles gripe thee Let thy proud desire Suit with thy fortunes Curious mindes that shall Mount up with Phaeton shall have Phaetons fall Vnbâ—nd thy bow betimes lest thou repent Too late for it will breake or else stand bent I 'le work at home ne'r crosse the scorching Line In unknowne lands to seeke a hidden Mine Plaine Bullion pleaseth me I not deâ—ire Deare Ignoâ—s from th'Elixars techy fire I 'le spend my paines where best I may be bold To know my selfe wherein I shall behold The world abridg'd and in that world my Maker Beyond which taske I wish no Vndertaker Great God by whom it is what-e're is mine Make me thy Viceroy in this World of thine So cleare mine eyes that I may comprehend My slight beginning and my sudden end THE ARGVMENT God questions Iob and proves that man Cannot attaine to things so high As divine secrets since he can Not reach to Natures Iobs reply Sect. 18. FOrth from the bosome of a murm'ring Cloud Heavens great â—ehovah did at length unshroud His Earths-amazing language equally Made terrible with Feare and Majesty Challeng'd the Duell he did undertake His grumbling servant and him thus bespake Who who art thou that thus dost pry in vaine Into my secrets hoping to attaine With murmuring to things conceal'd from man Say poreblinde mortall Who art thou that can Thus cleare thy crimes and dar'st with vaine applause Make me defendant in thy sinfull cause Ioe here I am Engrosse into thy hands Thy soundest weapons Answer my demands Say where wert thou when these my haÌ„ds did lay The worlds foundation canst thou tell me Say Was earth not measur'd by this Arme of mine Whose hand did ayde me was I help't by thine Where wert thou when the Planets fiâ—st did blaze And in their sphears sang forth their Makers praise Who is 't that tames the raging of the Seas And swathes them up in mists when e're he please Did'st thou divide the darknesse from the Light Or know'st thou whence Aurora takes her flight Didst ere enquire into the Seas Abysse Or mark'd the Earth of what a bulk she is Know'st thou the place whence Light or Darknesse springâ— Can thy deepe age unfold these secret things Knowâ—st thou the cause of Snow or haile which are My fierce Artill'ry in my time of warre Who is 't that rends the gloomy Clouds in sunder Whose sudden rapture strikes forth fire thunder Or who bedewes the earth with gentle showres Filling her pregnant soyle with fruits and flowres What father got the raine from what chill wombe Did frosts and hard-congealed Waters come Canst thou restraine faire Maja's course or stint her Or sad Orion ushering in the Winter Will scorching Cancer at thy summons come Or Sun-burnt Autumne with he fruitfull wombe Know'st thou Heavens course above or dost thou know Those gentle influences here below Who was 't inspir'd thy soule with understanding Aâ—d gave thy spirit the spirit of apprehending Dost thou command the Cisternes of the Skie To quench the thirsty soyle or is it I Nay let thy practice to the earth descend Prove there how farre thy power doth extend From thy full hand will hungry Lions eate Feed'st thou the empty Ravens that cry for meaâ—eâ— Sett'st thou the season when the fearfull Hind Brings forth her painfull birth Hast thou assign'd The Mountaine-Goate her Time Or is it I Canst thou subject unto thy soveraigntie The untam'd Vnicorne Can thy hard hand Force him to labour on thy fruitfull land Did'st thou inrich the Peacock with his Plume Or did â—hat Steele-digesting Bird assume His downy Flags from thee Didst thou endow The noble Stallion with his strength Canst thou Quaile his proud courage See his angry breath Puffes nothing forth but fearsâ— summ'd up in death Marke with what pride his horny hoofes doe tabor The hard resounding Earth with how great labour How little ground he spends But at the noyse And fierce Alar'm of the hoarse Trumpets voyce He breaks the ranks amidst a thousand Speares Pointed with death undaunted at the feares Of doubfull warre he rushes like a Ranger Through every Troop scorns so brave a dangerâ— Doe lofty Haggards cleave the flitting Ayre With Plumes of thy devising Then how dare Thy ravenous lips thus thus at randome runne And countermaund what I the Lord have done Thinkst thou to learne fond Mortall thus by diving Into my secrets or to gaine by striving Plead then No doubt but thine will be the Day Speake peevish Plaintiffe if th'aft ought to say Ioâ— then replyde Great God I am but Dust â—y heart is sinfull and thy hands are just I am a Sinner Lord my words are wind My thoughts are vaine Ah Father I have sinn'd Shall dust reply I spake too much before I le close these lips and never answer more Meditat. 18. O Glorious Light A light unapprehended By mortall eyes O Glory never ended Nor ere created whence all Glory springs In heavenly bodyes and in earthly things O power Immense derived from a Will Most just and able to doe all but ill O Essence pure and full of Majesty Greatnesse it selfe and yet no quantity Goodnesse and without quality producing All things from out of Nothing and reducing All things to nothing past all comprehending Boâ—h first and Last and yet without an ending Or yet beginning filling every Creature And not it selfe included above Nature Yet not excluded of it selfe subsisting And with it selfe
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
hearts admier and beleeve THE ARGVMENT Samson at Timnah falls in love And fancies a Philistian maide He moves his parents They reprove His sinfull choyce dislike disswade Sect. 7. NOw when as strong limb'd Samson had dispos'd His trifling thoughts to children and disclos'd His bud of child-hood which being overgrowne And blossome of his youth so fully blowne That strength of nature now thought good to seeke Her entertainment on his downy cheeke And with her manly bounty did begin To uneffeminate his smoother chin He went to Timnah whither did resort A great concourse of people to disport Themselves with pastime or perchance to show Some martiall Feats as they were wont to doe Scaffolds were builded round about whereon The Crowne of eye-delighted lookers on Were closely pil'd As Samsons wandring eye Was ranging up and downe he did espye A comely Virgin beautifull and young Where she was seated midst the gazing throng The more he view'd the more his eye desir'd To view her face and as it view'd admir'd His heart inflam'd his thoughts were all on fire His passions all were turn'd into desire Such were his lookes that she might well discry A speaking lover in his sparkling eye Sometimes his reason bids his thoughts beware 〈◊〉 he be catcht in a Philistian snare And then his thwarting passion would reply Feare not to be a prisoner to that eye Reason suggests 'T is vaine to make a choyce Where parents have an over-ruling voyce Passion replies That feare and filiall duty Must serve affection and subscribe to beauty Whilst Reason faintly mov'd him to neglect Prevailing passion urg'd his soule t' affect Passion concludes Let her enjoy thy heart Reason concludes But let thy tongue impart Thy affection to thy parents and discover To them thy thoughts With that the wounded lover Whose quicke-divided paces had out-runne His lingring heart like an observant sonne Repaires unto his parents fully made Relation of his troubled thoughts and said Sir 〈◊〉 day at Timnah to these wretched eyes 〈◊〉 taken captive with the novelties 〈◊〉 entertain'd my pleased thoughts appear'd 〈◊〉 object which hath so endear'd 〈◊〉 very soule with sadnesse so distrest That this poore heart can finde no ease no rest It was a Virgin in whose Heavenly face Vâ—pattern'd Beauty and diviner Grace Were so conjoyn'd as if they both conspir'd 〈…〉 Angell when these eyes enquir'd 〈◊〉 the excellence of her rare perfection 〈…〉 not choose but like and my affection Is so inflamed with desire that I Am now become close prisoner to her eye Now if my sad Petition may but finde A faire successe to ease my tortur'd minde And if your tender hearts be pleas'd to prove Aâ— prone to pitty mine as mine to love Let me with joy exchange my single life And be the husband of so faire a wife Whereto th' amazed parents in whose eye Distast and wonder percht made this reply What strange desire what vnadvis'd request Hath broken loose from thy distracted brest What! are the Daughters of thy brethren growne So poore in Worth and Beauty Is there none To please that over-curious eye of thine But th' issue of a cursed Philistine Can thy miswandring eyes choose none but her That is the child of an Idolater Correct thy thoughts and let thy soule rejoyce In lawfull beauty Make a wiser choyce How well this counsell pleas'd the tyred eares Of love-sicke Samson O let him that beares A crost affection judge Let him discover The wofull case of this afflicted lover What easie pencill cannot represent His very lookes How his sterne browes were bent His drooping head his very port and guise His bloodlesse cheekes and deadnesse of his eyes Till at the length his moving tongue betrai'd His sullen lips to language thus and said Sir Th' extreame affection of my heart does leade My tongue that 's quickned with my love to plead What if her parents be not circumcis'd Her issue shall and she perchance advis'd Iâ— worship Israels God and to forget 〈◊〉 fathers house Alas she is as yet 〈◊〉 young her downy yeares are green 〈◊〉 tender 〈◊〉 but a twigge and time may 〈…〉 â—â—brace the truth Oâ—r counsells 〈…〉 〈…〉 breeding and so save a soule 〈◊〉 who can tell but Heaven did recommend 〈◊〉 beauty to these eyes for such an end 〈◊〉 not that which Heaven is pleas'd to save 〈◊〉 Samson then obtaine as well as crave 〈◊〉 gave me being then prolong my life And make me husband to so faire a wife With that the pareÌ„ts joyn'd their whispering heads 〈◊〉 observes and in their parly reads 〈◊〉 Characters of hope The mother smiles The father frownes which Samson reconciles â—â—th hopefull fears She smiles smiling crownes 〈◊〉 hopes which He deposes with his frownes 〈◊〉 whispring ended joyntly they displaid â—â—alfe resolved countenance and said Samson suspend thy troubled minde a while 〈◊〉 thy â—ver-charged thoughts recoile 〈…〉 of Shipwracke Rocks are neare the Shore 〈◊〉 the Virgin and resolve thee mâ—re Meditat. 6. LOve is a noble passion of the heart That with it very essence doth impart All needfull Circumstances and effects Vnto the chosen party it affects In absence it enjoyes and with an eye Fill'd with celestiall fier doth espye Objects remote It joyes and smiles in griefe It sweetens poverty It brings reliefe It gives the Feeble strength the Coward spirit The sicke man health the undeserving merit It makes the proud man humble and the stout It ouercomes and treads him underfoot It makes the mighty man of warre to droope And him to serve that never yet could stoope It is a fire whose Bellowes are the breath Of heaven above and kindled here beneath T is not the power of a mans election To loue He loves noâ— by his owne direction It is nor beauty nor â—enigne aspect That alwayes moves the Lover to affect These are but means Heavens pleasure is the cause Love is not bound to reason and her Lawes Are not subjected to th' imperious will Of man It lies not in his power to nill How is this Love abus'd That 's onely made A snare for wealth or to set up a trade T' enrich a great mans Table or to pay A desperate debt or meerly to allay A base and wanton lust which done no doubt The love is ended and her fier out No he that loves for pleasure or for pelfe Loves truely none and falsely but himselfe The pleasure past the wealth consum'd and gone Love hath no subject now to worke upon The props being falne that did support the roofe Nothing but rubbish and neglected Stuffe â—â—ke a wilde Chaos of Confusion lies Presenting uselesse ruines to our eyes The Oyle that does maintaine loves sacred fire Is vertue mixt with mutuall desire Of sweet societie begun and bred 〈◊〉 soule nor ended in the mariage bed This is the dew of Hermon that does fill The soule with sweetnesse watring Sions hill This is that holy fire that burns and lasts Till quencht by death The other are but blasts
Vntill your land be turn'd a Golgotha And if my actions prove my words untrue Let Samson die and be accurs'd as you Medit. 14. GOd is the God of peace And if my brother Strike me on one cheeke must I turn the other God is the God of mercy And his childe Must be as he his Mercifull and milde God is the God of Love But sinner know His love abus'd hee 's God of vengeance too Is God the God of vengeance And may none Revenge his private wrongs but he alone What meanes this franticke Nazarite to take Gods office from his hand and thus to make His wrongs amends Who warranted his breath To threaten ruine and to thunder death Curious Inquisitor when God shall strike By thy stout arme thy arme may doe the like His Patent gives him power to create A deputie to whom he doth collate Assistant power in sufficient measure To exercise the office of his pleasure A lawfull Prince is Gods Lieutenant here As great a Maiesty as flesh can beare He is endued with all In his bright eye Cloath'd in the flames of Majesty doth lie Both life and death into his royall heart Heaven doth inspire and secretly impart The treasure of his Lawes Into his hand He thrusts his sword of Iustice and Command He is Gods Champion where his voice bids kill He must not feare t' imbrew his hands and spill Abundant bloud Who gives him power to doe Will finde him guiltlesse and assist him too O but let flesh and bloud take heed that none Pretend Gods quarrell to revenge his owne Malice and base Revenge must step aside When heavens uprighter Battels must be tride Where carnall glory or ambitious thurst Of simple conquest or revenge does burst Vpon a neighbouring Kingdome there to thrust Into anothers Crowne the warre 's not just 'T is but a private quarrell and bereft Of lawfull grounds 'T is but a Princely theft But where the ground 's Religion to defend Abused faith let Princes there contend With dauntles courage May their acts be glorious Let them goe prosperous and returne victorious What if the grounds be mixt Feare not to goe Were not the grounds of Sampsons Combate so Goe then with double courage and renowne When God shall mixe thy quarrels with his owne 'T is a brave conflict and a glorious Fray Where God and Princes shall divide the Prey THE ARGVMENT He burnes their standing corne makes void Their Land The Philistines enquire The cause of all their evill destroy'd The Timnite and his house with fire Sect. 15. AS â—agefull Samsons threatning language ceast His resolution of revenge increast Vengeance was in his thoughts and his desire Wanted no fuell to maintaine her fire Passion grew hot and furious whose delay Of execution was but taking day For greater payment His revengefull heart Boild in his brest whilst Fury did impart Her readie counsels whose imperious breath Could whisper nothing under bloud and death Revenge was studious quickned his conceit And sâ—rew'd her Engins to the very height At length when time had rip'ned his desires And puffing rage had blowne his secret fires To open flame now ready for confusion He thus began t' attempt his first conclusion The patient Angler first provides his baite Before his hopes can teach him to awaite Th' enjoyment of his long expected prey Revengefull Samson ere he can appay His wrongs with timely vengeance must intend To gaine the Instruments to worke his end He plants his Engines hides his snares about Pitches his Toiles findes new devices out To tangle wilie Foxes In few dayes That land had store his studious hand betrayes A leash of hundreds which he thus imploye As Agents in his rashfull enterprize With tough and force-enduring thongs of Leth He joynes and couples taile and taile together And every thong bound in a Brand of fire So made by Art that motion would inspire Continuall flames and as the motion ceast The thriftie blaze would then retire and rest In the close brand untill a second strife Gave it new motion and that motion life Soone as these coupled Messengers receiv'd Their fiercy Errand though they were bereiv'd Of power to make great hast they made good speed Their thoughts were diffring though their tailes agreed T' one drags and draws to th' East the other West One fit they runne another while they rest T' one skulks and snarles the t' other tugges and hales At length both flee with fire in their tailes And in the top and height of all their speed T' one stops before the other bee agreed The other pulls and dragges his fellow backe Whilst both their tailes were tortur'd on the racke At last both weary of their warme Embassage Their better ease discride a fairer passage And time hath taught their wiser thoughts to joyne More close and travell in a straiter linâ— Into the open Champion they divide Their straggling paces where the ploughmans pride Found a faire object in his rip'ned Corne Whereof some part was reapt some stood unshorne Sometimes the fiery travellers would seeke Protection beneath a swelling Reeke But soone that harbour grew too hot for stay Affording onely light to runne away Sometimes the full-ear'd standingâ—wheat must cover And hide their flames and there the flames would hover About their eares and send them to enquire A cooler place but there the flaming fire Would scorch their hides send theÌ„ sindg'd away Thus doubtfull where to goe or where to stay They range about flee forward then retire Now here now there wher ere they come they fire Nothing was left that was not lost and burn'd And now that fruitfull land of Iewry's turn'd A heape of Ashes That faire land while ere Which fild all hearts with joy and every eare With newes of plenty and of blest encrease The joyfull issue of a happy peace See how it lies in her owne ruines void Of all her happinesse disguis'd destroyd With that the Philistines whose sad reliefe And comfort 's deeply buried in their griefe Began to question they did all partake In th'irrecoverable losse and spake What cursed brand of Hell What more than Devill What envious Miscreant hath done this evill Whereto one sadly standing by replide It was that cursed Samson Whose faire Bride Was lately ravisht from his absent brest By her false father who before the feast Of nuptiall was a moâ—th expir'd and done By second marriage own'd another Sonne For which this Samson heav'd from off the henge Of his lost reason studied this revenge That Timnits falshood wrought this desolâ—tion Samson the Actor was but he th' occasion With that they all consulted to proceed In height of Iustice to revenge this deed Samson whose hand was the immediat cause Of this foule act is stronger than their lawes Him they referre to time For his proud hand May bring a second ruine to their land The cursed Timnite he that did divide The lawfull Bridgroome from his lawfull Bride And mov'd the
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
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
from whence Flow sweetned streames of sacred Eloquence Whose drops into the eare distill'd doe give Life to the dead true joyes to them that live 5. HIs haÌ„ds are deckt with rings of gold the rings With costly Iewels fitting none but Kings Which of themselves though glorious yet receive More glorie from those fingers than they give His brests like Ivorie circled round about With veines like Saphyres winding in and out Whose beautie is though darkened from the eye Full of divine and secret Majestie 6. HIs legs like purest Marble strong and white Of curious shape though quicke unapt for flight His Feet as gold that 's oft refined are Like his upright proceedings pure and faire His Port is Princely and his Stature tall And like the Cedar stout yet sweet withall O who would not repose his life his blisse â—pon a Base so faire so firme as this 7 HIs mouth but stay what need my lips be lavish In choice of words when one alone wil ravish 〈◊〉 shall in briefe my ruder tongue discover The speaking Image of my absent Lover Then let the curious hand of Art refine The race of Vertues morall and divine From whence by heaven let there extracted be â— perfect Quintessence even such is He. VIRGINS SONET XVIII THrice fairer than the fairest whose sad teares And smiling words have charm'd our eyes our eares Say whither is this prize of beauty gone More faire than kinde to let thee weepe alone Thy tempting lips have whet our dull desire And till we see him we are all on fire Wee 'll finde him out if thou wilt be our guide The next way to the Bridegroome is the Bride BRIDE SONET XIX IF errour lead not my dull thoughts amisse My Genius tells me where my true Love is He 's busie labâ—ring on his flowry banks Inspiring sweetnesse and receiving thanks Watring those plants whose tender roots are dry And pruning such whose Crests aspire too high Transplanting grafting reaping fruits from some And covering others that are newly come 2. WHat if the frailty of my feebler part Lockt up the Portalls of my drowsie heart He knowes the weaknesse of the flesh incumbers Th' unwilling spirit with sense-bereaving slumbers My hopes assure me in despight of this That my Beloved's mine and I am his My hopes are firme which time shall ne're remove That he is mine by faith I his by love BRIDEGROOME SONET XX. THy timely griefe my teares-baptized Love CoÌ„pels mine eares to heare thy tears to move Thy blubber'd beauty to mine eye appeares More bright than 't was Such is the strength of teares â—eautie Terror meeting in thine eye Have made thy face the Throne of Majestie Those awfull beames the proudest heart will move To love for feare untill it feare for love 2. REpresse those flames that furnace from thine eye They ravish with too bright a Tyrannie Thy fires are too-too fierce O turne them from me They pierce my soule with their rayes o'recome me Thy curious * Tresses dangle all unbound â—ith unaffected order to the ground How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 3. THy Ivory Teeth in whitenesse doe out-goe The downe of Swans or Winters driven snowe Whose even proportions lively represent Th' harmonious Musicke of unite consent Whose perfect whitenesse Time could never blot Nor age the envious Worme of Ruine rot How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 4 THy Temples are the Temples of chaste love Where beauty sacrific'd her milke-white Dove Vpon whose Azure pathes are alwaies found The heaven-borne Graces dauncing in a round Thy maiden Blushes gently doe proclame A shame of guilt but not a guilt of shame How orient is thy beâ—â—ty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 5. YOu you brave spirits whose imperiall hand Enforces what your lookes cannot command Bring forth your pamper'd Queenes the lustfull prize And curious wrecks of your imperious eyes Surround the Circle of the earth and levie The fairest Virgins in Loves fairest bevie Then take from each to make one perfit grace Yet would my Love out-shine that borrow'd face 6. I Thou art she corrivalld with no other Thou glorious Daughter of thy glorious Mother The new lerusalem whose virgin birth Shall deifie the Virgins of the earth The Virgins of the earth have seene thy beautie And stood amaz'd and in a prostrate duty Have sued to kisse thy hand making thine eyes Their Lamps to light them til the Bridegroom rise 7. HArke how the virgins hallow'd with thy fire And wonder-smitten with thy beames admire Who who is this say they whose cheekes resemble â—â—â—ora's blush whose eye heavens lights dissemble Whose face is brighter than the silent Lampe That lights the earth to breathe her nightly damp Vpon whose brow sits dreadfull Majestie The frowne whereof commands a victorie 8 FAire Bride why was thy troubled soule dejected When I was absent was my faith suspected Which I so firmely plighted Couldst thou thinke My love could shake or such a vow could shrinke I did but walke among my tender Plants To smell their odours and supply their wants To see my Stockes so lately grifted sprout Or if my vines began to burgen out 9. THough gone was I my heart was in thy brest Although to thee perchaÌ„ce an unknowne guest 'T was that that gaue such wings to thy desire T' enjoy thy love and set thy soule on fire But my returne was quicke and with a minde More nimble yet more constant than the winde I came and as the winged shaft doth flie With undiscerned speed even so did I. 10. REturne O then returne thou child of Peace To thy first joyes O let thy teares surcease Returne thee to thy Love let not the night With flatt'ring slumbers tempt thy true delight Returne thee to my bosome let my brest Be still thy Tent Take there eternall rest Returne O thou in whose enchanted eye Are darts enough to make an army flye 11. FAire Daughter of the highest King how sweet Are th' unaffected graces of thy Feet From every step true Majestie doth spring Fitting the Daughter of so high a King Thy Wast is circled with a Virgin Zone Imbellisht round with many a precious Stone â—â—erein thy curious Workeman did fulfill 〈◊〉 utmost glory of his diviner skill 12. THy Navell where thy holy Embrion doth Receive sweet nourishment and heavenly growth â—â—ke a Chrystal spring whose fresh supply â—â—living waters Sunne nor Drought can dry 〈◊〉 fruitfull Wombe is like a winnow'd heape 〈◊〉 purest graine which heaveÌ„s blest hand did reap â—â—th Lillies fenc'd True Embleme of rare treasure Those graine denotes increase whose Lillies pleasure 13. THy dainty Brests are like faire twins both swelling In equall Majestie in hue
excelling 〈◊〉 new-falne snow upon th' untroden mountains From whence there flowes as from exub'rous fountaines â—â—â—ers of heavenly Nectar to allay The holy thirst of soules Thrice happy they â—â—d more than thrice whose blest affections bring Their thirstie palats to so sweet a Spring 14. THy Necke doth represent an Ivory Tower In perfect purenesse and united power Thine Eyes like pooles at a frequented gate For every commer to draw water at Are common treasures and like chrystall glasses Shwes each his lively visage as he passes Thy Nose the curious Organ of thy Sent Wants nothing more for use for ornament 15. THy Tyres of gold inricht with glorious gems Rare Diamonds and princely Diadems Adorne thy browes and with their native worth Aduance thy glory and set thy beautie forth So perfect are thy Graces so divine And full of heaven are those faire lookes of thine That I 'm inflamed with the double fire Of thy full beauty and my fierce desire 16. O Sacred Symmetrie O rare connection Of many perfects to make one perfection O heauenly Musicke where all parts doe meet In one sweet straine to make one perfect sweet O glorious members whose each severall feature Divine compose so so divine a Creature Faire soule as all thy parts united be Entire so summ'd are all my joyes in thee 17. THy curious Fabricke and erected stature Is like the generous Palme whose lofty nature In spight of envious violence will aspire Then most supprest the more it mouÌ„ts the higher Thy lovely brests whose beautie reinvites My oft remembrance to her oft delights Are like the swelling Clusters of the vine So full of sweetnesse are those brests of thine 18. ARâ— thou my Palme My busie hand shal nourish Thy fruitfull roots make thy braÌ„ches flourish 〈◊〉 thou my vine My skilfull arme shall dresse Thy dying plants my living springs shall blesse Thy infant Buds my blasting breath shall quell Presumptuous weeds make thy clusters swell And all that love thee shall attaine the favour To taste thy sweetnesse and to smell thy savour 19. THose Oracles that from thy lips proceed With sweet Evangels shall delight and feed 〈◊〉 attentive eare and like the Trumpets voyce 〈◊〉 faint hearts but make brave spirits rejoice Thy breath whose Dialect is most divine â—â—cends quicke flames where ember'd sparkes but shine 〈◊〉 strikes the Pleaders Rhet'ricke with derision And makes the dullest soule a Rhetorician BRIDE SONET XXI MY faith not merits hath assur'd thee mine Thy Love not my desert hath made me thine Vnworthy I whose drowsie soule rejected Thy precious favours and secure neglected Thy glorious presence how am I become A Bride besitting so divine a Groome It is no merit no desert of mine Thy love thy love alone hath made me thine 2. SInce then the bountie of thy deare election Hath stil'd me thine O let the sweet reflection Of thy illustrious beames my soule inspire And with thy spirit inflame my hot desire Vnite our soules O let thy Spirit rest And make perpetuall home within my brest Instruct me so that I may gaine the skill To suite my service to thy sacred will 3. COme come my soules preserver thou that art Th' united joyes of my united heart Come let us visit with the morning light Our prosperous Vines with mutuall delight Lt's view those grapes whose clusters being prest Shall make rich wines to serve your Mariage feast That by the thriving plants it may appeare Our joyes perfecting Mariage draweth neere 4. BEhold my new disclosed flowers present Before thy gates their tributary sent Reserve themselves for Garlands that they may Adorne the Bridegorme on his Mariage day My Garden 's full of Trees and every Tree Laden with fruit which I devote to thee Eternall joyes betide that happy guest That tastes the dainties of the Bridegroomes feast 5. O Would to God mine eyes these fainting eyes Whose eager appetite could ne're devise A dearer object might but once behold My Love as I am clad in fleshly mold That each may corporally converse with other As friend with friend as sister with her brother O how mine eyes could welcome such a sight How would my soule dissolve with o're-delight 6. THen should this hand conduct my fairest Spouse To taste a banquet at my mothers house Our fruitfull Garden should present thine eyes With sweet delights her trees should sacrifice Their early fruits to thee our tender Vine Should cheare thy palate with her unprest wine Thy hand should teach my living Plants to thrive And such as are a dying to revive 7. THen should my soule enjoy within this breast A holy Sabbath of eternall Rest Then should my cause that suffers through despight Of errour and rude Ignorance have right Then should these streames whose tydes so often rise Be ebb'd away from my suffused eyes Then should my spirits fill'd with heavenly mirth Triumph o're Hell and finde a heaven on earth 8. ALL you that wish the bountifull encrease Of dearest pleasures and divinest peace I charge you all if ought my charge may move Your tender hearts not to disturbe my Love Vexe not his gentle Spirit nor bereave Him of his joyes that is so apt to grieve Dare not to breake his quiet slumbers lest You rouze a raging Lyon from his rest 9. WHo ever lov'd that ever lov'd as I That for his sake renounce my selfe deny The worlds best joyes and have the world forgone Who ever lov'd so deare As I have done I sought my Love and found him lowly laid Beneath the tree of Loveâ— in whose sweet shade He rested there his eye sent forth the fire That first enflam'd my amorous desire 10. MY dearest Spouse O seale me on thy heart So sure that envious Earth may never part Our joyned soules let not the world remove My chast desiers from so choyce a Love 〈◊〉 O my love 's not slight her flames are serious â—as never death so powerfull so imperious 〈◊〉 jealous zeale is a consuming fire 〈◊〉 burns my soule through feare fierce desire 11. â—Ires may be quencht and flames though ne'r so great With many drops shal faint and lose their heat 〈◊〉 these quick fires of love the more supprest â—he more they flame in my inflamed brest â—ow darke is Honour how obscure and dim 〈…〉 bright glory but compar'd with him 〈◊〉 â—oule is Beauty what a toyle is Pleasure 〈◊〉 poore is Wealth how base a thing is treasure 12. Have a Sister which by thy divine 〈◊〉 bounteous Grace our Marriage shall make thine 〈◊〉 is mine owne mine onely Sister whom 〈◊〉 Mother bare the youngest of her wombe Shee 's yet a childe her beauty may improve Her brests are small and yet too greene for love When time and yeares shall adde perfection to her Say dearest Love what honour wilt thou do her BRIDEGROOME SONET XXII IF she be faire and with
heart My glowing heart to these imperious fires No earthly sorrow but at length expires But these my Tyrant-torments doe extend To infinites nor having ease nor end Loe I the Pris'ner of the highest God Inthâ—ailed to the vengeance of his Rod Lie bound in fetters that I cannot flie Nor yet endure his deadly stroakes nor die My joyes are turn'd to sorrows backt with feares And I poore I lie pickled up in teares ELEG 14. O! How unsufferable is the waight Of sinne How miserable is their state The silence of whose secret sinne conceales The smart till Iustice to Revenge appeales How ponderous are my crimes whose ample scroul Weighs downe the pillars of my broken Soule Their sowre masqu'd with sweetnes overswai'd me And with their smiling kisses they betrai'd me Betraid me to my Foes and what is worse Betraid me to my selfe and heavens curse Betraid my soule to an eternall griefe Devoid of hope for e're to finde reliefe ELEG 15. PErplext with change of woes where ere I turne My fainting eyes they finde fresh cause to mourne My griefes move like the Planets which appeare Chang'd from their places coÌ„stant to their sphaere Behold the earth-confounding arme of Heaven Hath cow'd my valiant Captaines and hath driven Their scattered forces up and downe the street Like worried sheepe afraid of all they meet My younger men the seede of propagation Exile hath driven from my divided Nation My tender Virgins have not scap'd their rage Which neither had respect to youth nor age ELEG 16. QVicke change of torments equall to those crimes Which past unthought-of in my prosp'rous times From hence proceed my griefes ah me from hence My Spring-tyde sorrowes have their influence For these my soulâ— dissolves my eyes lament Spending chose teares whose store wil ne're be speÌ„t For these my fainting spirits droepe and melt In anguish such as never Mortall felt Within the selfe-same flames I freeze and frie I roare for helpe and yet no helpe is nigh My sons are lost whose fortunes would relieve me And onely such triumph that hourely grieve me ELEG 17. REnt from the glory of her lost renowne Sion laments Her lips her lips o'reflowne With floods of teares she prompteth how to breake New languages instructs her tongue to speake Elegious Dialects She lowly bends Her dusty knees upon the earth extends Her brawnlesse armes to them whose ruthlesse eyes Are red with laughing at her miseries Naked she lies deform'd and circumvented With troopes of feares unpitied unlamented A loathsome draine for filth despis'd forlorne The scorne of Nations and the childe of scorne ELEG 18. SOwre wages issue from the sweets of sin Heavens hand is just this trecherous heart hath bin The author of my woes 'T is I alone My sorrowes reap what my foule sins have sowne Often they cry'de to heaven e're heaven reply'd And vengeance ne're had come had they ne'r cride All you that passe vouchsafe your gracious eares To heare these cries your eyes to view these tears They are no heat-drops of an angry heart Or childish passions of an idle smart But they are Rivers springing from an eye Whose streams no joy can stop no griefe draw drie ELEG 19. TVrne where I list new cause of woe presents My poore distracted soule with new laments Where shall I turne shall I implore my friends Ah summer friendship with the Summer ends In vaine to them my groanes in vaine my teares For harvest friends can finde no winter eares Or shall I call my sacred Priests for aid Alas my pined Priests are all betraid To Death and Famine in the streets they cryed For bread whilst they sought for bread they died Vengeance could never strike so hard a blow As when she sends an unlamented woe ELEG 20. VOuchsafe great God to turne thy tender eyes On me poore wretch Oh let my midnight cries That never cease if never stopt with teares Procure audience from thy gracious eares Behold thy creature made by change of griefe The barest wretch that ever beg'd reliefe See see my soule is tortur'd on thy rack My bowels tremble and my heart-strings crack Abroad the sword with open ruine frights me At home the secret hand of Famine smites me Strange fires of griefe How is my soule opprest That findes abroad no peace at home no rest ELEG 21. WHere where art thou O sacred Lambe of peace That promis'd to the heavie laden ease Thee thee alone my often bended knee Invokes that haue no other helpe but thee My foes amazed at my hoarse complaining Scoffe at my oft repeated cries disdaining To lend their prosp'rous hand they hisse and smile Taking a pleasure to behold my spoile Their hands delight to bruize my broken reeds And still persist to prick that heart that bleeds But there 's a Day if Prophets can divine Shal scourge their sins as they have scourged mine ELEG 22. YOu noy some weeds that lift your crests so high When better plants for want of moysture die Thinke you to flourish ever and unspide To shoot the flowers of your fruitlesse pride If plants be cropt because their fruits are small Thinke you to thrive that beare no fruit at all Looke downe great God from their places teare These weeds that suck the juice shold make us bear Vndew'd with showers let them see no Sun But feel those frosts that thy poor plaÌ„ts have done O clense thy Garden that the world may know Wee are the seeds that thy right hand did sow Threnodia II. ELEG 1. ALas my torments my distracted feares Have no commerce with reasonable teares How hath Heavens absence darkned the renowne Of Sions glory with one angry frowne How hath th' Almighty clouded those bright beams And chang'd her beauties streamers into streames Sion the glory of whose refulgent Fame Gave earnest of an everlasting name Is now become an indigested Masse And ruine is where that brave glory was How hath heaven strucke her earth-admired name From th' height of honour to the depth of shame ELEG 2. BEautie nor strength of building could entice Or force revenge from her just enterprise Mercy hath stopt her eares and Iustice hath Powr'd out full vialls of her kindled wrath Impatient of delay she hath strucke downe The pride of Sion kickt off Iuda's Crowne Her streets unpeopled and disperst her powres And with the ground hath levell'd her high towres Her priests are slaine her captiv'd Princes are Vnransom'd pris'ners Slaves her men of warre Nothing remaines of all her wonted glory But sad memorialls of her tragicke story ELEG 3. COnfused horror and confounding shame Have blur'd the beauty and renowned name Of righteous Israel Israels fruitfull land Entail'd by Heaven with the usurping hand Of uncontroled Gentiles is laid waste And with the spoile so ruine is defac't The angry mouth of Iustice blowes the fires Of hasty vengeance whose quicke flame aspires With fury to that place which heaven did sever For Iacob and his holy seed for ever No part no