in ev'ry corner sing My God and King Vers. The heav'ns are not too high His praise may thither flie The earth is not too low His praises there may grow Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing My God and King Vers. The church with psalms must shouâ— No doore can keep them out But above all the heart Must bear the longest part Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing My God and King ¶ Love I. IMmortall Love authour of this great frame Sprung from that beautie which can never fade How hath man parcel'd out thy glorious name And thrown it on that dust which thou hast made While mortall love doth all the title gain Which siding with invention they together Bear all the sway possessing heart and brain Thy workmanship and give thee share in neither Wit fancies beautie beautie raiseth wit The world is theirs they two play out the game Thou standing by and though thy glorious nâ—â—â— Wrought our deliverance from th' infernall pit Who sings thy praise onely a skarf or glove Doth warm our hands and make them write 〈…〉 II. IMmortall Heat O let thy greater flame Attract the lesser to it let those fires Which shall consume the world first make it tamâ— And kindle in our hearts such true desires As may consume our lusts and make thee way Then shall our hearts pant thee then shall our brain All her invention on thine Altar lay And there in hymnes send back thy fire again Our eies shall see thee which before saw dust Dust blown by wit till that they both were blindâ— Thou shalt recover all thy goods in kinde Who wert disseized by usurping lust All knees shall bow to thee all wits shall rise And praise him who did make and mend our eies ¶ The Temper HOw should I praise thee Lord how should my rymes Gladly engrave thy love in steel If what my soul doth feel sometimes My soul might ever feel â—â—though there were some fourtie heav'ns or more Sometimes I peere above them all Sometimes I hardly reach a score Sometimes to hell I fall 〈◊〉 rack me not to such a vast extent Those distances belong to thee The world 's too little for thy tent A grave too big for me â—â—lt thou meet arms with man that thou dost stretch A crumme of dust from heav'n to hell Will great God measure with a wretch Shall he thy stature spell O let me when thy roof my soul hath hid O let me roost and nestle there Then of a sinner thou art rid And I of hope and fear Yet take thy way for sure thy way is best Stretch or contract me thy poore debter This is but tuning of my breast To make the musick better Whether I flie with angels fall with dust Thy hands made both and I am there Thy power and love my love and trust Make one place ev'ry where ¶ The Temper IT cannot be Where is that mightie joy Which just now took up all my heart Lord if thou must needs use thy dart Save that and me or sin for both destroy The grosser world stands to thy word and art But thy diviner world of grace Thou suddenly dost raise and race And ev'ry day a new Creatour art O fix thy chair of grace that all my powers May also fix their reverence For when thou dost depart from hence They grow unruly and sit in thy bowers Scatter or binde them all to bend to thee Though elements change and heaven move Let not thy higher Court remove But keep a standing Majestie in me ¶ Jordan WHo sayes that fictions onely and false hair Become a verse Is there in truth no beautiâ— Is all good structure in a winding stair May no lines passe except they do their dutie Not to a true but painted chair Is it no verse except enchanted groves And sudden arbours shadow course-spunne lines Must purling streams refresh a lovers loves Must all be vail'd while he that reades divines Catching the sense at two removes Shepherds are honest people let them sing Riddle who list for me and pull for Prime I envie no mans nightingale or spring Nor let them punish me with losse of ryme Who plainly say My God My King ¶ Employment IF as a flowre doth spread and die Thou wouldst extend me to some good â—â—fore I were by frosts extremitie Nipt in the bud The sweetnesse and the praise were thine But the extension and the room â—hich in thy garland I should fill were mine At thy great doom For as thou dost impart thy grace The greater shall our glorie be â—he measure of our joyes is in this place The stuffe with thee Let me not languish then and spend A life as barren to thy praise â—s is the dust to which that life doth tend But with delaies All things are busie onely I Neither bring hony with the bees Nor flowres to make that nor the husbandrie To water these I am no link of thy great chain But all my companie is a weed Lord place me in thy consort give one strain To my poore reed ¶ The H. Scriptures I. OH Book infinite sweetnesse let my heart Suck ev'ry letter and a hony gain Precious for any grief in any part To cleare the breast to mollifie all pain Thou art all health health thriving till it make A full eternitie thou art a masse Of strange delights where we may wish 〈◊〉 Ladies look here this is the thankfull glasse That mends the lookers eyes this is the well That washes what it shows Who can indâ—â—â— Thy praise too much thou art heav'ns Li 〈…〉 Working against the states of death and hell Thou art joyes handsell heav'n lies flat in theâ— Subject to ev'ry mounters bended knee II. OH that I knew how all thy lights combine And the configurations of their glorie Seeing not onely how each verse doth shine But all the constellations of the storie This verse marks thaâ— and both do make a motion Unto a third that ten leaves off doth lie Then as dispersed herbs do watch a potion These three make up some Christians destinie 〈◊〉 are thy secrets which my life makes good And comments on thee for in ev'ry thing Thy words do finde me out parallels bring 〈◊〉 in another make me understood Starres are poore books oftentimes do misse This book of starres lights to eternall blisse ¶ Whitsunday LIsten sweet Dove unto my song And spread thy golden wings in me Hatching my tender heart so long â—ll it get wing and flie away with thee Where is that fire which once descended On thy Apostles thou didst then Keep open house richly attended â—asting all comers by twelve chosen men Such glorious gifts thou didst bestow That th' earth did like a heav'n appeare The starres were coming down to know 〈◊〉 they might mend their wages and serve here The sunne which once did shine alone Hung down his head and wisht for night When he beheld twelve sunnes for one â—oing about the world
him I must adore Who of the laws sowre juice sweet wine did make Ev'n God himself being pressed for my sake ¶ Love unknown DEare Friend sit down the tale is long and sad And in my faintings I presume your loue Will more complie then help A Lord I had And have of whom some grounds which may improve I hold for two lives and both lives in me To him I brought a dish of fruit one day And in the middle plac'd my heart But he I sigh to say Lookt on a seruant who did know his eye Better then you know me or which is one Then I my self The servant instantly Quitting the fruit seiz'd on my heart alone And threw it in a font wherein did fall A stream of bloud which issu'd from the side Of a great rock I well remember all And have good cause there it was dipt and di'd And washt and wrung the very wringing yet Enforceth tears Your heart was foul I fear Indeed 't is true I did and do commit Many a fault more then my lease will bear Yet still askt pardon and was not deni'd But you shall heare After my heart was well And clean and fair as I one even-tide I sigh to tell Walkt by my self abroad I saw a large And spacious fornace flaming and thereon A boyling caldron round about whose verge Was in great letters set AFFLICTION The greatnesse shew'd the owner So I went To fetch a sacrifice out of my fold Thinking with that which I did thus present To warm his love which I did fear grew cold But as my heart did tender it the man Who was to take it from me slipt his hand And threw my heart into the scalding pan My heart that brought it do you understand The offerers heart Your heart was hard I fear Indeed 't is true I found a callous matter Began to spread and to expatiate there But with a richer drug then scalding water I bath'd it often ev'n with holy bloud Which at a board while many drunk bare wine A friend did steal into my cup for good Ev'n taken inwardly and most divine To supple hardnesses But at the length Out of the caldron getting soon I fled â—nto my house where to repair the strength Which I had lost I hasted to my bed â—ut when I thought to sleep out all these faults I sigh to speak â— found that some had stuff'd the bed with thoughts â— would say thorns Deare could my heart not break When with my pleasures ev'n my rest was gone â—ull well I understood who had been there â—or I had giv'n the key to none but one â—t must be he Your heart was dull I fear â—ndeed a slack and sleepie state of minde Did oft possesse me so that when I pray'd Though my lips went my heart did stay behinde But all my scores were by another paid Who took the debt upon him Truly Friend For ought I heare your Master shows to you More favour then you woâ— of Mark the end The Font did onely what was old renew The Caldron suppled what was grown too hard The Thorns did quicken what was grown too dulls All did but strive to mend what you had marr'd Wherefore be cheer'd and praise him to the full Each day each houre each moment of the weekâ— Who fain would have you be new tender quick ¶ Mans medley HEark how the birds do sing And woods do ring All creatures have their joy and man hath his Yet if we rightly measure Mans joy and pleasure â—ather hereafter then in present is To this life things of sense Make their pretence In th' other Angels have a right by birth Man ties them both alone And makes them one With th' one hand touching heav'n with th' other eartâ— In soul he mounts and flies In flesh he dies He wears a stuffe whose thread is course and round But trimm'd with curious lace And should take place After the trimming not the stuffe and ground Not that he may not here Taste of the cheer But as birds drink and straight lift up their head So must he sip and think Of better drink He may attain to after he is dead But as his joyes are double So is his trouble He hath two winters other things but one Both frosts and thoughts do nip And bite his lip And he of all things fears two deaths alone Yet ev'n the greatest griefs May be reliefs Could he but take them right and in their wayes Happie is he whose heart Hath found the art To turn his double pains to double praise ¶ The Storm â—F as the windes and waters here below Do flie and flow â—y sighs and tears as busie were above Sure they would move And much affect thee as tempestuous times Amaze poore mortals and object their crimes â—â—arres have their storms ev'n in a high degree As well as we â— throbbing conscience spurred by remorse Hath a strange force â—t quits the earth and mounting more and more Dares to assault thee and besiege thy doore There it stands knocking to thy musicks wrong And drowns the song Glorie and honour are set by till it An answer get Poets have wrong'd poore storms such dayes are best They purge the aire without within the breast ¶ Paradise I Blesse thee Lord because I GROW Among thy trees which in a ROW To thee both fruit and order OW What open force or hidden CHARM Can blast my fruit or bring me HARM While the inclosure is thine ARM Inclose me still for fear I START Be to me rather sharp and TART Then let me want thy hand ART When thou dost greater judgements SPARE And with thy knife but prune and PARE Ev'n fruitfull trees more fruitfull ARE. Such sharpnes shows the sweetest FREND Such cuttings rather heal then REND And such beginnings touch their END ¶ The Method POore heart lament For since thy God refuseth still There is some rub some discontent Which cools his will Thy Father could Quickly effect what thou dost move For he is Power and sure he would For he is Love Go search this thing Tumble thy breast and turn thy book If thou hadst lost a glove or ring Wouldst thou not look What do I see Written above there Yesterday I did behave me carelesly When I did pray And should Gods eare To such indifferents chained be Who do not their own motions heare Is God lesse free But stay what 's there Late when I would have something done I had a motion to forbear Yet I went on And should Gods eare Which needs not man be ty'd to those Who heare not him but quickly heare His utter foes Then once more pray Down with thy knees up with thy voice Seek pardon first and God will say Glad heart rejoyce ¶ Divinitie AS men for fear the starres should sleep and nod And trip at night have spheres suppli'd As if a starre were duller then a clod Which knows his way without a guide Just so the other heav'n they also serve
blessings were as slow As mens returns what would become of fools What hast thou there a heart but is it pure Search well and see for hearts have many holes Yet one pure heart is nothing to bestow In Christ two natures met to be thy cure O that within us hearts had propagation Since many gifts do challenge many hearts Yet one if good may title to a number And single things grow fruitfull by deserts In publick judgements one may be a nation And fence a plague while others sleep and slumber But all I fear is lest thy heart displease As neither good nor one so oft divisions Thy lusts have made and not thy lusts alone Thy passions also have their set partitions These parcell out thy heart recover these And thou mayst offer many gifts in one There is a balsome or indeed a bloud Dropping from heav'n which doth both cleanse and close All sorts of wounds of such strange force it is Seek out this All-heal and seek no repose Untill thou finde and use it to thy good Then bring thy gift and let thy hymne be this Since my sadnesse Into gladnesse Lord thou dost convert O accept What thou hast kept As thy due desert Had I many Had I any For this heart is none All were thine And none of mine Surely thine alone Yet thy favour May give savour To this poore oblation And it raise To be thy praise And be my salvation ¶ Longing WIth sick and famisht eyes With doubling knees and weary bones To thee my cries To thee my grones To thee my sighs my tears ascend No end My throat my soul is hoarse My heart is wither'd like a ground Which thou dost curse My thoughts turn round And make me giddie Lord I fall Yet call From thee all pitie flows Mothers are kinde because thou art And dost dispose To them a part Their infants them and they suck thee More free Bowels of pitie heare Lord of my soul love of my minde Bow down thine eare Let not the winde Scatter my words and in the same Thy name Look on my sorrows round Mark well my furnace O what flames What heats abound What griefs what shames Consider Lord Lord bow thine eare And heare Lord Jesu thou didst bow Thy dying head upon the tree O be not now More dead to me Lord heare Shall he that made the eare Not heare Behold thy dust doth stirre It moves it creeps it aims at thee Wilt thou deferre To succour me Thy pile of dust wherein each crumme Sayes Come To thee help appertains Hast thou left all things to their course And laid the reins Upon the horse Is all lockt hath a sinners plea No key Indeed the world 's thy book Where all things have their leafe assign'd Yet a meek look Hath interlin'd Thy board is full yet humble guests Finde nests Thou tarriest while I die And fall to nothing thou dost reigne And rule on high While I remain In bitter grief yet am I stil'd Thy childe Lord didst thou leave thy throne Not to relieve how can it be That thou art grown Thus hard to me Were sinne alive good cause there were To bear But now both sinne is dead And all thy promises live and bide That wants his head These speak and chide And in thy bosome poure my tears As theirs Lord JESU heare my heart Which hath been broken now so long That ev'ry part Hath got a tongue Thy beggars grow rid them away To day My love my sweetnesse heare By these thy feet at which my heart Lies all the yeare Pluck out thy dart And heal my troubled breast which cryes Which dyes ¶ The Bag. AWay despair my gracious Lord doth heare Though windes and waves assault my keel He doth preserve it he doth steer Ev'n when the boat seems most to reel Storms are the triumph of his art Well may he close his eyes but not his heart Hast thou not heard that my Lord JESUS di'd Then let me tell thee a strange storie The God of power as he did ride In his majestick robes of glorie Resolv'd to light and so one day He did descend undressing all the way The starres his tire of light and rings obtain'd The cloud his bow the fire his spear The sky his azure mantle gain'd And when they ask'd what he would wear He smil'd and said as he did go He had new clothes a making here below When he was come as travellers are wont He did repair unto an inne Both then and after many a brunt He did endure to cancell sinne And having giv'n the rest before Here he gave up his life to pay our score But as he was returning there came one That ran upon him with a spear He who came hither all alone Bringing nor man nor arms nor fear Receiv'd the blow upon his side And straight he turn'd and to his brethren cry'd If ye have any thing to send or write I have no bag but here is room Unto my fathers hands and sight Beleeve me it shall safely come That I shall minde what you impart Look you may put it very neare my heart Or if hereafter any of my friends Will use me in this kinde the doore Shall still be open what he sends I will present and somewhat more Not to his hurt Sighs will convey Any thing to me Heark despair away ¶ The Jews POore nation whose sweet sap and juice Our cyens have purloin'd and left you drie Whose streams we got by the Apostles sluce And use in baptisme while ye pine and die Who by not keeping once became a debter And now by keeping lose the letter Oh that my prayers mine alas Oh that some Angel might a trumpet sound At which the Church falling upon her face Should crie so loud untill the trump were drown'd And by that crie of her deare Lord obtain That your sweet sap might come again ¶ The Collar I Struck the board and cry'd No more I will abroad What shall I ever sigh and pine My lines and life are free free as the rode Loose as the winde as large as store Shall I be still in suit Have I no harvest but a thorn To let me bloud and not restore What I have lost with cordiall fruit Sure there was wine Before my sighs did drie it there was corn Before my tears did drown it Is the yeare onely lost to me Have I no bayes to crown it No flowers no garlands gay all blasted All wasted Not so my heart but there is fruit And thou hast hands Recover all thy sigh-blown age On double pleasures leave thy cold dispute Of what is fit and not forsake thy cage Thy rope of sands Which pettie thoughts have made and made to thee Good cable to enforce and draw And be thy law While thou didst wink and wouldst not see Away take heed I will abroad Call in thy deaths head there tie up thy fears He that forbears To suit and serve his need Deserves his load But
minde Admitted to their bed-chamber before They appeare trim and drest To ordinarie suitours at the doore What hath not man sought out and found But his deare God who yet his glorious law Embosomes in us mellowing the ground With showres and frosts with love aw So that we need not say Where 's this command Poore man thou searchest round To finde out death but missest life at hand ¶ Lent WElcome deare feast of Lent who loves not thee He loves not Temperance or Authoritie But is compos'd of passion The Scriptures bid us fast the Church sayes now Give to thy Mother what thou wouldst allow To ev'ry Corporation The humble soul compos'd of love and fear Begins at home and layes the burden there When doctrines disagree He sayes in things which use hath justly got I am a scandall to the Church and not The Church is so to me True Christians should be glad of an occasion To use their temperance seeking no evasion When good is seasonable Unlesse Authoritie which should increase The obligation in us make it lesse And Power it self disable Besides the cleannesse of sweet abstinence Quick thoughts and motions at a small expense A face not fearing light Whereas in fulnesse there are sluttish fumes Sowre exhalations and dishonest rheumes Revenging the delight Then those same pendant profits which the spring And Easter intimate enlarge the thing And goodnesse of the deed Neither ought other mens abuse of Lent Spoil the good use leâ—t by that argument We forfeit all our Creed It 's true we cannot reach Christs forti'th day Yet to go part of that religious way Is better then to rest We cannot reach our Saviours puritie Yet are we bid Be holy ev'n as he In both let 's do our best Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone Is much more sure to meet with him then one That travelleth by-wayes Perhaps my God though he be farre before May turn and take me by the hand and more May strengthen my decayes Yet Lord instruct us to improve our fast By starving sinne and taking such repast As may our faults controll That ev'ry man may revell at his doore Not in his parlour banquetting the poore And among those his soul. ¶ Vertue SWeet day so cool so calm so bright The bridall of the earth and skie The dew shall weep thy fall to night For thou must die Sweet rose whose hue angrie and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye Thy root is ever in its grave And thou must die Sweet spring full of sweet dayes and roses A box where sweets compacted lie My musick shows ye have your closes And all must die Onely a sweet and vertuous soul Like season'd timber never gives But though the whole world turn to coal Then chiefly lives ¶ The Pearl Matth. 13. I Know the wayes of learning both the head And pipes that feed the presse and make it runne What reason hath from nature borrowed Or of it self like a good huswife spunne In laws and policie what the starres conspire What willing nature speaks what forc'd by fire Both th' old discoveries and the new-found seas The stock and surplus cause and historie All these stand open or I have the keyes Yet I love thee I know the wayes of honour what maintains The quick returns of courtesie and wit In vies of favours whether partie gains When glorie swells the heart and moldeth it To all expressions both of hand and eye Which on the world a true-love-knot may tie And bear the bundle wheresoe're it goes How many drammes of spirit there must be To sell my life unto my friends or foes Yet I love thee I know the wayes of pleasure the sweet strains The lullings and the relishes of it The propositions of hot bloud and brains What mirth and musick mean what love and wit Have done these twentie hundred yeares and more I know the projects of unbridled store My stuffe is flesh not brasse my senses live And grumble oft that they have more in me Then he that curbs them being but one to five Yet I love thee I know all these and have them in my hand Therefore not sealed but with open eyes I flie to thee and fully understand Both the main sale and the commodities And at what rate and price I have thy love With all the circumstances that may move Yet through the labyrinths not my groveling wit But thy silk twist let down from heav'n to me Did both conduct and teach me how by it To climbe to thee ¶ Affliction BRoken in pieces all asunder Lord hunt me not A thing forgot Once a poore creature now a wonder A wonder tortur'd in the space Betwixt this world and that of grace My thoughts are all a case of knives Wounding my heart With scatter'd smart As watring pots give flowers their lives Nothing their furie can controll While they do wound and prick my soul. All my attendants are at strife Quitting their place Unto my face Nothing performs the task of life The elements are let loose to fight And while I live trie out their right Oh help my God! let not their plot Kill them and me And also thee Who art my life dissolve the knot As the sunne scatters by his light All the rebellions of the night Then shall those powers which work for grief Enter thy pay And day by day Labour thy praise and my relief With care and courage building me Till I reach heav'n and much more thee ¶ Man MY God I heard this day That none doth build a stately habitation But he that means to dwell therein What house more stately hath there been Or can be then is Man to whose creation All things are in decay For Man is ev'ry thing And more He is a tree yet bears no fruit A beast yet is or should be more Reason and speech we onely bring Parrats may thank us if they are not mute They go upon the score Man is all symmetrie Full of proportions one limbe to another And all to all the world besides Each part may call the farthest brother For head with foot hath private amitie And both with moons and tides Nothing hath got so farre But Man hath caught and kept it as his prey His eyes dismount the highest starre He is in little all the sphere Herbs gladly cure our flesh because that they Finde their acquaintance there For us the windes do blow The earth doth rest heav'n move and fountains flow Nothing we see but means our good As our delight or as our treasure The whole is either our cupboard of food Or cabinet of pleasure The starres have us to bed Night draws the curtain which the sunne withdraws Musick and light attend our head All things unto our flesh are kinde In their descent and being to our minde In their ascent and cause Each thing is full of dutie Waters united are our navigation Distinguished our habitation Below our drink above our meat Both are
as I rav'd and grew more fierce and wilde At every word Me thoughts I heard one calling Childe And I reply'd My Lord. ¶ The Glimpse WHither away delight Thou cam'st but now wilt thou so soon depart And give me up to night For many weeks of lingring pain and smart But one half houre of comfort for my heart Me thinks delight should have More skill in musick and keep better time Wert thou a winde or wave They quickly go and come with lesser crime Flowers look about and die not in their prime Thy short abode and stay Feeds not but addes to the desire of meat Lime begg'd of old they say A neighbour spring to cool his inward heat Which by the springs accesse grew much more great In hope of thee my heart Pickt here and there a crumme and would not die But constant to his part When as my fears foretold this did replie A slender thread a gentle guest will tie Yet if the heart that wept Must let thee go return when it doth knock Although thy heap be kept For future times the droppings of the stock May oft break forth and never break the lock If I have more to spinne The wheel shall go so that thy stay be short Thou knowst how grief and sinne Disturb the work O make me not their sport Who by thy coming may be made a court ¶ Assurance O Spitefull bitter thought Bitterly spitefull thought Couldst thou invent So high a torture Is such poyson bought Doubtlesse but in the way of punishment When wit contrives to meet with thee No such rank poyson can there be Thou said'st but even now That all was not so fair as I conceiv'd Betwixt my God and me that I allow And coin large hopes but that I was deceiv'd Either the league was broke or neare it And that I had great cause to fear it And what to this what more Could poyson if it had a tongue expresse What is thy aim wouldst thou unlock the doore To cold despairs and gnawing pensivenesse Wouldst thou raise devils I see I know I writ thy purpose long ago But I will to my Father Who heard thee say it O most gracious Lord If all hope and comfort that I gather Were from my self I had not half a word Not half a letter to oppose What is objected by my foes But thou art my desert And in this league which now my foes invade Thou art not onely to perform thy part But also mine as when the league was made Thou didst at once thy self indite And hold my hand while I did write Wherefore if thou canst fail Then can thy truth and I but while rocks stand And rivers stirre thou canst not shrink or quail Yea when both rocks and all things shall disband Then shalt thou be my rock and tower And make their ruine praise thy power Now foolish thought go on Spin out thy thread and make thereof a coat To hide thy shame for thou hast cast a bone Which bounds on thee and will not down thy throat What for it self love once began Now love and truth will end in man ¶ The Call COme my Way my Truth my Life Such a Way as gives us breath Such a Truth as ends all strife And such a Life as killeth death Come my Light my Feast my Strength Such a Light as shows a feast Such a Feast as mends in length Such a Strength as makes his guest Come my Joy my Love my Heart Such a Joy as none can move Such a Love as none can part Such a Heart as joyes in love ¶ Clasping of hands LOrd thou art mine and I am thine If mine I am and thine much more Then I or ought or can be mine Yet to be thine doth me restore So that again I now am mine And with advantage mine the more Since this being mine brings with it thine And thou with me dost thee restore If I without thee would be mine I neither should be mine nor thine Lord I am thine and thou art mine So mine thou art that something more I may presume thee mine then thine For thou didst suffer to restore Not thee but me and to be mine And with advantage mine the more Since thou in death wast none of thine Yet then as mine didst me restore O be mine still still make me thine Or rather make no Thine and Mine ¶ Praise LOrd I will mean and speak thy praise Thy praise alone My busie heart shall spin it all my dayes And when it stops for want of store Then will I wring it with a sigh or grone That thou mayst yet have more When thou dost favour any action It runnes it flies All things concurre to give it a perfection That which had but two legs before When thou dost blesse hath twelve one wheel doth riâ—â— To twentie then or more But when thou dost on businesse blow It hangs it clogs Not all the teams of Albion in a row Can hale or draw it out of doore Legs are but stumps and Pharaohs wheels but logs And struggling hinders more Thousands of things do thee employ In ruling all This spacious globe Angels must have their joy Devils their rod the sea his shore The windes their stint and yet when I did call Thou heardst my call and more I have not lost one single tear But when mine eyes Did weep to heav'n they found a bottle there As we have boxes for the poore Readie to take them in yet of a size That would contain much more But after thou hadst slipt a drop From thy right eye Which there did hang like streamers neare the top Of some fair church to show the sore And bloudie battell which thou once didst trie The glasse was full and more Wherefore I sing Yet since my heart Though press'd runnes thin O that I might some other hearts convert And so take up at use good store That to thy chests there might be coming in Both all my praise and more ¶ Josephs coat WOunded I sing tormented I indite Thrown down I fall into a bed and rest Sorrow hath chang'd its note such is his will Who changeth all things as him pleaseth best For well he knows if but one grief and smart Among my many had his full career Sure it would carrie with it ev'n my heart And both would runne untill they found a biere To fetch the bodie both being due to grief But he hath spoil'd the race and giv'n to anguish One of Joyes coats ticing it with relief To linger in me and together languish I live to shew his power who once did bring My joyes to weep and now my griefs to sing ¶ The Pulley WHen God at first made man Having a glasse of blessings standing by Let us said he poure on him all we can Let the worlds riches which dispersed lie Contract into a span So strength first made a way Then beautie flow'd then wisdome honour pleasure When almost all was out God made a stay
power Killing and quickning bringing down to hell And up to heaven in an houre Making a chiming of a passing-bell We say amisse This or that is Thy word is all if we could spell O that I once past changing were Fast in thy Paradise where no flower can wither Many a spring I shoot up fair Offring at heav'n growing and groning thither Nor doth my flower Want a spring-showre My sinnes and I joining together But while I grow in a straight line Still upwards bent as if heav'n were mine own Thy anger comes and I decline What frost to that what pole is not the zone Where all things burn When thou dost turn And the least frown of thine is shown And now in age I bud again After so many deaths I live and write I once more smell the dew and rain And relish versing O my onely light It cannot be That I am he On whom thy tempests fell all night These are thy wonders Lord of love To make us see we are but flowers that glide Which when we once can finde and prove Thou hast a garden for us where to bide Who would be more Swelling through store Forfeit their Paradise by their pride ¶ Dotage FAlse glozing pleasures casks of happinesse Foolish night-fires womens and childrens wishes Chases in Arras guilded emptinesse Shadows well mounted dreams in a career Embroider'd lyes nothing between two dishes These are the pleasures here True earnest sorrows rooted miseries Anguish in grain vexations ripe and blown Sure-footed griefs solid calamities Plain demonstrations evident and cleare Fetching their proofs ev'n from the very bone These are the sorrows here But oh the folly of distracted men Who griefs in earnest joyes in jest pursue Preferring like brute beasts a lothsome den Before a court ev'n that above so cleare Where are no sorrows but delights more true Then miseries are here ¶ The Sonne LEt forrain nations of their language boast What fine varietie each tongue affords I like our language as our men and coast Who cannot dresse it well want wit not words How neatly doe we give one onely name To parents issue and the sunnes bright starre A sonne is light and fruit a fruitfull flame Chasing the fathers dimnesse carri'd farre From the first man in th' East to fresh and new Western discov'ries of posteritie So in one word our Lords humilitie We turn upon him in a sense most true For what Christ once in humblenesse began We him in glorie call The Sonne of Man ¶ A true Hymne MY joy my life my crown My heart was meaning all the day Somewhat it fain would say And still it runneth mutt'ring up and down With onely this My joy my life my crown Yet slight not these few words If truly said they may take part Among the best in art The finenesse which a hymne or psalme affords Is when the soul unto the lines accords He who craves all the minde And all the soul and strength and time If the words onely ryme Justly complains that somewhat is behinde To make his verse or write a hymne in kinde Whereas if th' heart be moved Although the verse be somewhat scant God doth supplie the want As when th' heart sayes sighing to be approved O could I love and stops God writeth Loved ¶ The Answer MY comforts drop and melt away like snow I shake my head and all the thoughts and ends Which my fierce youth did bandie fall and flow Like leaves about me or like summer friends Flyes of estates and sunne-shine But to all Who think me eager hot and undertaking But in my prosecutions slack and small As a young exhalation newly waking Scorns his first bed of dirt and means the sky But cooling by the way grows pursie and slow And setling to a cloud doth live and die In that dark state of tears to all that so Show me and set me I have one reply Which they that know the rest know more then I. ¶ A Dialogue-Antheme Christian. Death Chr. ALas poore Death where is thy glorie Where is thy famous force thy ancient sting Dea. Alas poore mortall void of storie Go spell and reade how I have kill'd thy King Chr. Poore death and who was hurt thereby Thy curse being laid on him makes thee accurst Dea. Let losers talk yet thou shalt die These arms shall crush thee Chr. Spare not do thy worst I shall be one day better then before Thou so much worse that thou shalt be no more ¶ The Water-course THou who dost dwell and linger here below Since the condition of this world is frail Where of all plants afflictions soonest grow If troubles overtake thee do not wail For who can look for lesse that loveth Life Strife But rather turn the pipe and waters course To serve thy sinnes and furnish thee with store Of sov'raigne tears springing from true remorse That so in purenesse thou mayst him adore Who gives to man as he sees fit Salvation Damnation ¶ Self-condemnation THou who condemnest Jewish hate For choosing Barabbas a murderer Before the Lord of glorie Look back upon thine own estate Call home thine eye that busie wanderer That choice may be thy storie He that doth love and love amisse This worlds delights before true Christian joy Hath made a Jewish choice The world an ancient murderer is Thousands of souls it hath and doth destroy With her enchanting voice He that hath made a sorrie wedding Between his soul and gold and hath preferr'd False gain before the true Hath done what he condemnes in reading For he hath sold for money his deare Lord And is a Judas-Jew Thus we prevent the last great day And judge our selves That light which sin passion Did before dimme and choke When once those snuffes are ta'ne away Shines bright and cleare ev'n unto condemnation Without excuse or cloke ¶ Bitter-sweet AH my deare angrie Lord Since thou dost love yet strike Cast down yet help afford 〈◊〉 I will do the like I will complain yet praise I will bewail approve And all my sowre-sweet dayes I will lament and love ¶ The Glance WHen first thy sweet and gracious eye Vouchsaf'd ev'n in the midst of youth and night To look upon me who before did lie Weltring in sinne I felt a sugred strange delight Passing all cordials made by any art Bedew embalme and overrunne my heart And take it in Since that time many a bitter storm My soul hath felt ev'n able to destroy Had the malicious and ill-meaning harm His swing and sway But still thy sweet originall joy Sprung from thine eye did work within my soul And surging griefs when they grew bold controll And got the day If thy first glance so powerfull be A mirth but open'd and seal'd up again What wonders shall we feel when we shall see Thy full-ey'd love When thou shalt look us out of pain And one aspect of thine spend in delight More then a thousand sunnes disburse in light In heav'n above ¶ The
23 Psalme THe God of love my shepherd is And he that doth me feed While he is mine and I am his What can I want or need He leads me to the tender grasse Where I both feed and rest Then to the streams that gently passe In both I have the best Or if I stray he doth convert And bring my minde in frame And all this not for my desert But for his holy name Yea in deaths shadie black abode Well may I walk not fear For thou art with me and thy rod To guide thy staffe to bear Nay thou dost make me sit and dine Ev'n in my enemies sight My head with oyl my cup with wine Runnes over day and night Surely thy sweet and wondrous love Shall measure all my dayes And as it never shall remove So neither shall my praise ¶ Marie Magdalene WHen blessed Marie wip'd her Saviours feet Whose precepts she had trampled on before And wore them for a jewell on her head Shewing his steps should be the street Wherein she thenceforth evermore With pensive humblenesse would live and tread She being stain'd her self why did she strive To make him clean who could not be defil'd Why kept she not her tears for her own faults And not his feet Though we could dive In tears like seas our sinnes are pil'd Deeper then they in words and works and thoughts Deare soul she knew who did vouchsafe and deigne To bear her filth and that her sinnes did dash Ev'n God himself wherefore she was not loth As she had brought wherewith to stain So to bring in wherewith to wash And yet in washing one she washed both ¶ Aaron HOlinesse on the head Light and perfections on the breast Harmonious bells below raising the dead To leade them unto life and rest Thus are true Aarons drest Profanenesse in my head Defects and darknesse in my breast A noise of passions ringing me for dead Unto a place where is no rest Poore priest thus am I drest Onely another head I have another heart and breast Another musick making live not dead Without whom I could have no rest In him I am well drest Christ is my onely head My alone onely heart and breast My onely musick striking me ev'n dead That to the old man I may rest And be in him new drest So holy in my head Perfect and light in my deare breast My doctrine tun'd by Christ who is not dead But lives in me while I do rest Come people Aaron's drest ¶ The Odour 2. Cor. 2. HOw sweetly doth My Master sound My Master As Amber-greese leaves a rich sent Unto the taster So do these words a sweet content An orientall fragrancie My Master With these all day I do perfume my minde My minde ev'n thrust into them both That I might finde What cordials make this curious broth This broth of smells that feeds and fats my minde My Master shall I speak O that to thee My servant were a little so As flesh may be That these two words might creep grow To some degree of spicinesse to thee Then should the Pomandâ—â— which was before A speaking sweet mend by reflection And tell me more For pardon of my imperfection Would warm and work it sweeter then before For when My Master which alone is sweet And ev'n in my unworthinesse pleasing Shall call and meet My servant as thee not displeasing That call is but the breathing of the sweet This breathing would with gains by sweetning me As sweet things traffick when they meet Return to thee And so this new commerce and sweet Should all my life employ and busie me ¶ The Foil If we could see below The sphere of vertue and each shining grace As plainly as that above doth show This were the better skie the brighter place God hath made starres the foil To set off vertues griefs to set off sinning Yet in this wretched world we toil As if grief were not foul nor vertue winning ¶ The Forerunners THe harbingers are come See see their mark White is their colour and behold my head But must they have my brain must they dispark Those sparkling notions which therein were bred Must dulnesse turn me to a clod Yet have they left me Thou art still my God Good men ye be to leave me my best room Ev'n all my heart and what is lodged there I passe not I what of the rest become So Thou art still my God be out of fear He will be pleased with that dittie And if I please him I write fine and wittie Farewell sweet phrases lovely metaphors But will ye leave me thus when ye before Of stews and brothels onely knew the doores Then did I wash you with my tears and more Brought you to Church well drest and clad My God must have my best ev'n all I had Louely enchanting language sugar-cane Hony of roses whither wilt thou flie Hath some fond lover tic'd thee to thy bane And wilt thou leave the Church and love a stie Fie thou wilt soil thy broider'd coat And hurt thy self and him that sings the note Let foolish lovers if they will love dung With canvas not with arras clothe their shame Let follie speak in her own native tongue True beautie dwells on high ours is a flame But borrow'd thence to light us thither Beautie and beauteous words should go together Yet if you go I passe not take your way For Thou art still my God is all that ye Perhaps with more embellishment can say Go birds of spring let winter have his fee Let a bleak palenesse chalk the doore So all within be livelier then before ¶ The Rose PResse me not to take more pleasure In this world of sugred lies And to use a larger measure Then my strict yet welcome size First there is no pleasure here Colour'd griefs indeed there are Blushing woes that look as cleare As if they could beautie spare Or if such deceits there be Such delights I meant to say There are no such things to me Who have pass'd my right away But I will not much oppose Unto what you now advise Onely take this gentle rose And therein my answer lies What is fairer then a rose What is sweeter yet it purgeth Purgings enmitie disclose Enmitie forbearance urgeth If then all that worldlings prize Be contracted to a rose Sweetly there indeed it lies But it biteth in the close So this flower doth judge and sentence Worldly joyes to be a scourge For they all produce repentance And repentance is a purge But I health not physick choose Onely though I you oppose Say that fairly I refuse For my answer is a rose ¶ Discipline THrow away thy rod Throw away thy wrath O my God Take the gentle path For my hearts desire Unto thine is bent I aspire To a full consent Not a word or look I affect to own But by book And thy book alone Though I fail I weep Though I halt in pace Yet I creep To the throne of
Man is out of order hurl'd Parcel'd out to all the world Lord thy broken consort raise And the musick shall be praise ¶ Judgement ALmightie Judge how shall poore wretches brook Thy dreadfull look Able a heart of iron to appall When thou shalt call For ev'ry mans peculiar book What others mean to do I know not well Yet I heare tell That some will turn thee to some leaves therein So void of sinne That they in merit shall excell But I resolve when thou shalt call for mine That to decline And thrust a Testament into thy hand Let that be scann'd There thou shalt finde my faults are thine ¶ Heaven O Who will show me those delights on high Echo I. Thou Echo thou art mortall all men know Echo No. Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves Echo Leaves And are there any leaves that still abide Echo Bide What leaves are they impart the matter wholly Echo Holy Are holy leaves the Echo then of blisse Echo Yes Then tell me what is that supreme delight Echo Light Light to the minde what shall the will enjoy Echo Ioy. But are there eares and businesse with the pleasure Echo Leisure Light joy and leisure but shall they persever Echo Ever ¶ Love LOve bade me welcome yet my soul drew back Guiltie of dust and sinne But quick-ey'd Love observing me grow slack From my first entrance in Drew nearer to me sweetly questioning If I lack'd any thing A guest I answer'd worthy to be here Love said you shall be he I the unkinde ungratefull Ah my deare I cannot look on thee Love took my hand and smiling did reply Who made the eyes but I Truth Lord but I have marr'd them let my shame Go where it doth deserve And know you not sayes Love who bore the blame My deare then I will serve You must sit down sayes Love and taste my meat So I did sit and eat FINIS Glorie be to God on high and on earth peace good will towards men ¶ The Church Militant ALmightie Lord who from thy glorious throne Seest and rulest all things ev'n as one The smallest ant or atome knows thy power Known also to each minute of an houre Much more do Common-weals acknowledge thee And wrap their policies in thy decree Complying with thy counsels doing nought Which doth not meet with an eternall thought But above all thy Church and Spouse doth prove Not the decrees of power but bands of love Early didst thou arise to plant this vine Which might the more indeare it to be thine Spices come from the East so did thy Spouse Trimme as the light sweet as the laden boughs Of Noahs shadie vine chaste as the dove Prepar'd and fitted to receive thy love The course was westward that the sunne might lighâ— As well our understanding as our sight Where th' Ark did rest there Abraham began To bring the other Ark from Canaan Moses pursu'd this but King Solomon Finish'd and fixt the old religion When it grew loose the Jews did hope in vain By nailing Christ to fasten it again But to the Gentiles he bore crosse and all Rending with earthquakes the partition-wall Onely whereas the Ark in glorie shone Now with the crosse as with a staffe alone Religion like a pilgrime westward bent Knocking at all doores ever as she went Yet as the sunne though forward be his flight Listens behinde him and allows some light Till all depart so went the Church her way Letting while one foot stept the other stay Among the eastern nations for a time Till both removed to the western clime To Egypt first she came where they did prove Wonders of anger once but now of love The ten Commandments there did flourish more Then the ten bitter plagues had done before Holy Macarius and great Anthonie Made Pharaoh Moses changing th' historie Gâ—shen was darknesse Egypt full of lights Nilus for monsters brought forth Israelites Such power hath mightie Baptisme to produce For things misshapen things of highest use How deare to me O God thy counsels are Who may with thee compare Religion thence fled into Greece where arts Gave her the highest place in all mens hearts Learning was pos'd Philosophie was set Sophisters taken in a fishers net Plato and Aristotle were at a losse And wheel'd about again to spell Christ-Crosse Prayers chas'd syllogismes into their den And Ergo was trasform'd into Amen Though Greece took horse as soon as Egypt did And Rome as both yet Egypt faster rid And spent her period and prefixed time Before the other Greece being past her prime Religion went to Rome subduing those Who that they might subdue made all their foes The Warrier his deere skarres no more resounds But seems to yeeld Christ hath the greater wounds Wounds willingly endur'd to work his blisse Who by an ambush lost his Paradise The great heart stoops and taketh from the dust A sad repentance not the spoils of lust Quitting his spear lest it should pierce again Him in his members who for him was slain The Shepherds hook grew to a scepter here Giving new names and numbers to the yeare But th' Empire dwelt in Greece to comfort them Who were cut short in Alexanders stemme In both of these Prowesse and Arts did tame And tune mens hearts against the Gospel came Which using and not fearing skill in th' one Or strenght in th' other did erect her throne Many a rent and struggling th' Empire knew As dying things are wont untill it flew At length to Germanie still westward bending And there the Churches festivall attending That as before Empire and Arts made way For no lesse Harbingers would serve then they So they might still and point us out the place Where first the Church should raise her down-cast face Strength levels grounds Arts makes a garden there Then showres Religion and makes all to bear Spain in the Empire shar'd with Germanie But England in the higher victorie Giving the Church a crown to keep her state And not go lesse then she had done of late Constantines British line mâ—ant this of old And did this mysterie wrap up and fold Within a sheet of paper which was rent From times great Chronicle and hither sent Thus both the Church and Sunne together ran Unto the farthest old meridian How deare to me O God thy counsels are Who may with thee compare Much about one and the same time and place Both where and when the Church began her race Sinne did set out of Eastern Babylon And travell'd westward also journeying on He chid the Church away where e're he came Breaking her peace and tainting her good name At first he got to Egypt and did sow Gardens of gods which ev'ry yeare did grow Fresh and fine deities They were at great cost Who for a god clearely a sallet lost Ah what a thing is man devoid of grace Adoring garlick with an humble face Begging his food of that which he may ear Starving the while he worshippeth his
meat Who makes a root his god how low is he If God and man be sever'd infinitely What wretchednesse can give him any room Whose house is foul while he adores his broom None will beleeve this now though money be In us the same transplanted foolerie Thus Sinne in Egypt sneaked for a while His highest was an ox or crocodile And such poore game Thence he to Greece doth passe And being craftier much then Goodnesse was He left behinde him garrisons of sinnes To make good that which ev'ry day he winnes Here Sinne took heart and for a garden-bed Rich shrines and oracles he purchased He grew a gallant and would needs foretell As well what should befall as what befell Nay he became a poet and would serve His pills of sublimate in that conserve The world came both with hands and purses full To this great lotterie and all would pull But all was glorious cheating brave deceit Where some poore truths were shuffled for a bait To credit him and to discredit those Who after him should braver truths disclose From Greece he went to Rome and as before He was a God now he 's an Emperour Nero and others lodg'd him bravely there Put him in trust to rule the Romane sphere Glorie was his chief instrument of old Pleasure succeeded straight when that grew cold Which soon was blown to such a mightie flame That though our Saviour did destroy the game Disparking oracles and all their treasure Setting affliction to encounter pleasure Yet did a rogue with hope of carnall joy Cheat the most subtill nations Who so coy So trimme as Greece and Egypt yet their hearte Are given over for their curious arts To such Mahometan stupidities As the old heathen would deem prodigies How deare to me O God thy counsels are Who may with thee compare Onely the West and Rome do keep them free From this contagious infidelitie And this is all the Rock whereof they boast As Rome will one day finde unto her cost Sinne being not able to extirpate quite The Churches here bravely resolv'd one night To be a Church-man too and wear a Mitre The old debauched ruffian would turn writer I saw him in his studie where he sate Busie in controversies sprung of late A gown and pen became him wondrous well His grave aspect had more of heav'n then hell Onely there was a handsome picture by To which he lent a corner of his eye As Sinne in Greece a Prophet was before And in old Rome a mightie Emperour So now being Priest he plainly did professe To make a jest of Christs three offices The rather since his scatter'd jugglings were United now in one both time and sphere From Egypt he took pettie deities From Greece oracular infallibities And from old Rome the libertie of pleasure By free dispensings of the Churches treasure Then in memoriall of his ancient throne He did surname his palace Babylon Yet that he might the better gain all nations And make that name good by their transmigrations From all these places but at divers times He took fine vizards to conceal his crimes From Egypt Anchorisme and retirednesse Learning from Greece from old Rome statelinesse And blending these he carri'd all mens eyes While Truth sat by counting his victories Whereby he grew apace and scorn'd to use Such force as once did captivate the Jews But did bewitch and finely work each nation Into a voluntarie transmigration All poste to Rome Princes submit their necks Either t' his publick foot or private tricks It did not fit his gravitie to stirre Nor his long journey nor his gout and furre Therefore he sent out able ministers Statesmen within without doores cloisterers Who without spear or sword or other drumme Then what was in their tongue did overcome And having conquer'd did so strangely rule That the whole world did seem but the Popes mule As new and old Rome did one Empire twist So both together are one Antichrist Yet with two faces as their Ianus was Being in this their old crackt looking-grasse How deare to me O God thy counsels are Who may with thee compare Thus Sinne triumphs in Western Babylon Yet not as Sinne but as Religion Of his two thrones he made the latter best And to defray his journey from the east Old and new Babylon are to hell and night As is the moon and sunne to heav'n and light When th' one did set the other did take place Confronting equally the law and grace They are hells land-marks Satans double crest They are Sinnes nipples feeding th' east and west But as in vice the copie still exceeds The pattern but not so in vertuous deeds So though Sinne made his latter seat the better The latter Church is to the first a debter The second Temple could not reach the first And the late reformation never durst Compare with ancient times and purer yeares But in the Jews and us deserveth tears Nay it shall ev'ry yeare decrease and fade Till such a darknesse do the world invade At Christs last coming as his first did finde Yet must there such proportions be assign'd To these diminishings as is between The spacious world and Jurie to be seen Religion stands on tip-toe in our land Readie to passe to the American strand When height of malice and prodigious lusts Impudent â—inning witchcrafts and distrusts The marks of future bane shall fill our cup Unto the brimme and make our measure up When Sein shall swallow Tiber and the Thames By letting in them both pollutes her streams When Italie of us shall have her will And all her calender of sinnes fulfill Whereby one may fortell what sinnes next yeare Shall both in France and England domineer Then shall Religion to America flee They have their times of Gospel ev'n as we My God thou dost prepare for them a way By carrying first their gold from them away For gold and grace did never yet agree Religion alwaies sides with povertie We think we rob them but we think amisse We are more poore and they more rich by this Thou wilt revenge their quarrell making grace To pay our debts and leave our ancient place To go to them while that which now their nation But lends to us shall be our desolation Yet as the Church shall thither westward flie So Sinne shall trace and dog her instantly They have their period also and set times Both for their vertuous actions and their crimes And where of old the Empire and the Arts Usher'd the Gospel ever in mens hearts Spain hath done one when Arts perform the other The Church shall come Sinne the Church shall smother That when they haue accomplished the round And met in th' east their first and ancient sound Judgement may meet them both search them round Thus do both lights as well in Church as Sunne Light one another and together runne Thus also Sinne and Darknesse follow still The Church and Sunne with all their power and skill But as the Sunne still goes both west and east So also did the Church by going west Still eastward go because it drew more neare To time and place where judgement shall appeare How deare to me O God thy counsels are Who may with thee compare ¶ L' Envoy KIng of glorie King of Peace With the one make warre to cease With the other blesse thy sheep Thee to love in thee to sleep Let not Sinne devoure thy fold Bragging that thy bloud is cold That thy death is also dead While his conquests dayly spread That thy flesh hath lost his food And thy Crosse is common wood Choke him let him say no more But reserve his breath in store Till thy conquests and his fall Make his sighs to use it all And then bargain with the winde To discharge what is behinde Blessed be God alone Thrice blessed Three in One. FINIS The titles of the severall poems contained in this book A AAron 168 Affliction 38.53.64.82.89 Agonie 29 Altar 18 Anagram of the Virgin Marie 69 To all Angels and Saints ibid. The Answer 163 A Dialogue-Antheme 164 Antiphon 45.85 Artillerie 132 Assurance 149 Avarice 69 B THe Bag 145 The Banquet 175 H. Baptisme 36 Bitter-sweet 165 The British Church 102 The Bunch of Grapes 120 Businesse 105 C The Call 15â— Charms and knots 88 Christmas 72 Church-floore 58 Church-lock and key 57 Church Militant 184 Church-monuments 56 Church-musick 57 Church-porch 1 Church-rents schismes 134 Church-windows 59 Clasping of hands 151 The Collar 147 Coloss. 3.3 Our life c. 77 H. Communion 43 Complaining 137 Self-Condemnation 165 Confession 118 Conscience 98 Constancie 63 Content 6â— The Crosse 158 D THe Dawning 104 Death 180 Decay 91 Deniall 71 Dialogue 107 The Discharge 138 Discipline 173 Divinitie 127 Dooms-day 181 Dotage 161 Dulnesse 108 E EAster 33 Easter-wiâ—gs 34 35 The Elixer 178 Employment 49.70 L' Envoy 192 Ephes. 4.30 Grieve not c. 128 Evensong 55 F FAith 41 The Familie 130 The Flower 160 The Foil 170 The Forerunners ibid. Frailtie 62 G GIddinesse 119 The Glance 166 The Glimpse 148 Good-friday 30 Grace 52 Gratefulnesse 116 Grief 158 H HEaven 182 The Holdfast 137 Home 99 Hope 114 Humilitie 61 A true Hymne 162 I JEsu 105 The Jews 146 The Invitation 174 Jordan 48.95 Josephs coat 153 Judgement 182 Justice 88.135 L LEnt 78 Life 87 Longing 142 Love 45 46.183 Love-joy 109 Love unknown 121 M MAn 83 Mans medley 123 S. Marie Magdalene 168 Mattens 54 The Method 126 Miserie 92 Mortification 90 Nature 37 O OBedience 96 The Odour 169 An Offering 141 P PAradise 125 A Parodie 177 Peace 117 The Pearl Matt. 13. 81 Perirrhanterium 1 The Pilgrimage 135 The Posie 177 Praise 53.140.151 Prayer 43.95 The Priesthood 154 Providence 109 The 23 Psalme 167 The Pulley 153 Q THe Quidditie 61 The Quip 103 R REdemption 31 Repentance 40 The Reprisall 28 The Rose 172 S THe Sacrifice 19 Saints vide Angels Schismes vide Church-rents H. Scripture 50 The Search 156 Sepulchre 32 Sighs and grones 75 Sinne 37.55 Sinnes round 114 The Sinner 30 Sion 99 The Size 131 The Sonne 162 The Starre 65 The Storm 125 Submission 87 Sunday 66 Superliminare 17 T THe Temper 46 47 The Thanks-giving 27 Time 115 Trinitie-Sunday 59 V VAnitie 77.104 Vertue 18 Ungratefulnesse 74 Unkindnesse 86 W THe Water-course 164 Whitsunday 51 The World 76 A Wreath 179 FINIS