they may the better wield that Charge And not by poize to let him fall be forc't See how the Body doubles in their Armes While Faith their loue with feruor double warmes For Martyrs Deaths giue life to Martyrs more Till DEATH be tir'd with reauing Them of Life This God did die as nere did Man before For Hee by yeelding meekely conquer'd Strife His Patience in such Passions and such Spightes Doth Life-inspire the faith of Proselites It is in vaine therefore with Sword or Fire To seeke to plant a Faith which cannot growe For Saints blood chokes It ere It can aspire And like a Deluge doth It ouerflow For when the Church is bath'd in Her owne blood Shee 's cur'd of all Diseases in that Flood Who will not runne into an Hell of Paine For His Hopes sake when he sees some therein For that same cause to seeme in blisse to raigne And by that Blisse eternall Glorie winne It 's sport to die when Life and Death conspire Feare to exclude and satiate the Desire WEll now those Women that were fled him fro When Tempests rag'd are come the Coast being cleare To pay him their last Dutie sith no mo They shall not as they doubt Him see nor heare Now eu'ry one is busied busily To grace Him Dead that for their grace did die Now downe they haue this dead Life-giuing Lord And now their zeale with diuine adoration Performes Loues complements in deed and word Now He hath suffred now they suffer Passion They spice Him sweetly with salt teares among And of sad Sighes they make their Obiit-Song O cruell hands quoth one that pierc'd these Hands But farre more cruell heart that gor'd this Heart Curst quoth another bee their feet that stand In Sinners Way who did these Feet endart O quoth a Third Paine still that Head suround That with these cruell Thornes this Head hath crown'd Infernall Furies whip them that haue torne This blessed Flesh thus whipt accursedly And be their Flesh with Wants to nothing worne That thus haue worne the Flesh of Deitie O worme of Conscience gnaw their Soules to nought That still did plague his Soule and vexe his Thought Let neuer Sunne recheere them with his Raies That Iustice Sonne haue thus in purple clowded Let nere Mouth ope but spit in their dispraise That haue these Lips in Death's pale Liu'ry shrouded Thus all like Honny-Bees sweet murmure make Against those Waspes that spoil'd their honny Cake Now draw they forth their Aromaticke Gumbes His Flesh most sweet to make most oderous See see how now His Traine late scatt'red comes Trooping with drooping Hearts most dolorous To helpe t'embalme Him and condole His death And to consort His Carcasse to the Earth See how in Peace they striue in Loue contend To kisse and rekisse his gore-crusted Face And with each kisse Teares Floods their force extend Which shall anticipate the others pace Loe how they hug Him with lowd-shaking cries Some hugge his Armes and others Legges and Thies But blest is He that hath his Head in hold Hee holds his hold till crowd enforce him thence Yet ere he parts his kisses millifold Bewray his loue and louing diligence And as the Babe is loath to leaue the Dugge Forepin'd with thirst so at his Lips they tugge Sweet Iesus giue me leaue in strong conceit Among these holy Ones to kisse thee once I as vnworthy will their leisure waite With vigilant attendance for the nonce Though they in loue are not my selfe aboue For who hath most forgiuen most doth loue If not thy Lips for I confesse deere Sweete I am vn worthy such preheminence Yet giue me leaue to kisse thy sacred Feet And wash them with my sad Teares confluence Let me with Marie who had much forgiu'n Yet I much more make Them my highest Heau'n For I aye me I am that Lumpe of Sinne That made thy Soule so heauie to the death I eu'ry day afresh thy woes begin Breathing out Death to thee with my Lifes breath Farre worse than he that blind thy Heart did gore For I doe see and yet doe wound it more O Christ with thy Rod strike my Rockie Heart That it may flow for Thee as Thine for me O let it bleed in pittie of thy smart And leaue to thinke on ought that grieueth Thee Bleed Heart weepe Eies that Blood and Water may Wash Blood and Water which I spilt away Sweet Honnied Sweet looke looke into my Heart See what Desires thy Loue doth pow'r therein Touching thy Loue I know thou hast the Arte To make the same in Deed thy Loue to winne Sith thy grace makes the Will and Deed intire O giue me grace to Doe as I Desire And as it 's written of the Elephant That he is fierce to see Grapes blood diffus'd So let me Wretch become most valiant Gainst Death and Hell to see thy Blood effus'd Who art the Grape which pressed on the Crosse Yeelds wine of Life and makes vs liue by losse When I behold thy still-fresh-bleeding Wounds I see the Deed to worke with the Desire Of my Redemption which my Soule confounds With shame though It the same doth life-inspire Whose good Deeds by Desire are onely done Though good Deeds end what good Desires begun When when deere Lord O when shall I fraile I Resist to Blood thy bloody foes resist When for thy sake shall I desire to die And in that deere Desire in Deed insist Till when I hold my deer'st Desires to be Vnworthy of thy Crosse much lesse of Thee Can I behold thy Gore rough-casted Corse Thine Head Heart Hands Backe Side Feet wounded all And all to free me from thy Fathers Curse And all I doe is but therein to fall I le trust Thy Secrecie Hearke in thine Eare I am the worst redeem'd with Blood so deere Then good Desires can nere repay the Debt Which thee I owe by Deeds seal'd with thy Blood My selfe thy Due I should too much forget To seeke to paie Thee with none other good For I am Thine Thou deerely paid'st for me Then both my Life and Death should honour Thee This World this Hellish World doth dimme mine Eies My Iudgements Eies that they but darkly see The way to worke by loue as worke the wise The godly wise whose workes tend all to Thee Then helpe me Loue to worke for Thee alone Meane while let me thy Passion thinke vpon Now doth this louing sacred Synaxie With diuine Orizons and deuout Teares Ensindon Him with choisest Draperie And to the Sepulcher his Body beares And as they beare him step by step they poure Downe showres of Teares which winds of Sighes procure But ah alasse his Mother all this while Like Niobe as Poets faine still sits All as shee did her Senses reconcile To senslesse Death and were in Tranced fits Without or Spâ—ite or Life or Heart or Soule Her violent woes her Senses so controule Now Loue to his last Home hath Him conuai'd That had no Hole in Life to
for Griefe to descant on And each mishap our hopes doe make infirme Though It we meete not with Suspition To force our friendship on a mortall foe Makes Folly triumph in our ouerthro But Loue that hath in Feares and Hopes no measure The more It longs her Obiect to possesse The more it doubts thereof the dire displeasure And beeing disseis'd thereof doth hope the lsse But O! this Loue is humane not diuine For Faith will not let Feare true loue decline Christ to thy longing-loue is as the Riuer Vnto the chased Hart which still he seekes And as Men thirstie mind but moysture euer So loue doth thinke on nought but what it likes If That Bee not It seekes no more to Bee But Beeing It would Be That bond or free Loue cannot liue without her Obiect long Sith shee then longing liues a dying life Who weenes her Right then to her offers wrong As doth the Husband that forsakes his Wife For in our deeds which Reason might reproue We scape vnshent if they were done in loue While loue doth lacke the oyle that makes it flame It is all Eare or Eie to heare or see Who can bewraie or where abides the same That there she may in loy or Sorrow be And listens vnto Newes with longing-heed In hope thereby to find her longingsmeed If It be good shee hopes it 's without peere If bad it be shee feares it 's worse than ill But be it good or bad shee it must heare Although the ioy or sorrow her may kill Desire doth neuer rest till that be had Which like to that Desire is good or bad Clothe him with Diamonds that quakes for cold Or cramme his purse with crownes that 's hunger-pin'd That for a freeze Gowne giue his Iewels would This all his Crownes for Crusts of coursest kin'd As each supplie supplies not each defect So nought contents Desire but his Elect. They that haue most are held most rich to be And they that haue their wish held most to haue Then as in Him is all that 's wisht of thee So Hee 's the Summe of all that thou canst craue It is the greatest gaine that can be made To get eternall good for goods that fade But rest these Thoughts which Thee of rest depriue In Paradise where he thou know'st do the est For there he said the Theefe should with him liue That day that he of life was dispossest Then when the life of Loue is dead to Griefe And liues to Ioy Ioy is dead Loues reliefe Hee for vs captiu'd our captiuitie And what is that but death the due of Sinne Which now he triumphs ore in victorie That we might still reioyce not grieue therein When Griefe is slaine it is a wrong to Ioy Our Powres in Sorrowes seruice to imploy Yet greater cause of griefe Griefe cannot giue But greater cause of ioy Ioy cannot yeeld Griefe Ioy resists and Ioy with Griefe doth striue Thus twixt these two still doubtfull is the field But Ioy at last as true Griefe doth presage Shall Victor be and no more Battell wage For this is He who though thus skarrified Tormented slaughtred and thus vilipended That is indeed the first Man deified Whom Men-of-God as-God to Men commended To Him the Prophets gaue this Testimonie That He should Liue as Man to die for Many His Skinne the Whips his Flesh Thornes made vnsound The Nailes his Nerues the cruell Speare his Heart Sharp Woes his Soule Gods wrath his Mind did wound So wounded was in all and eu'ry Part Thus his Soules-Soule was sacrifiz'd for Sinne That so our Soules might their lost glory winne His hand of Pow'r at first did figulate The Belsire of Mans most vnconstant kind And shall those Hands that Hand did figurate This Hand-almightie by their frailtie bind No no alas the Scepter 's in that Hand That doth both Heau'n and Hell of right command Hee like the glorious rare Arabian Bird Will soone result from his incinderment Which flaming Loue and Charitie had fir'd Of sole selfe-pow'r and owne arbitrement And though his Toyles be Silke-worme like his Tombe Yet shall his actiue Sp'rite his Flesh vntombe Diuinely then with Triumph Caesared He shall reblesse Thee with ten Thousand Blisses Whereby thy Soule shall aie be rauished With many millions of sweet Comforts kisses Whose Sweetes shall be so super-naturall That they perforce thy Cares shall cordial Then cheere thee sacred Virgin mourne no more The worst is past the best is now to come Thy blessed Wombe his blessed Body bore To die accurst for which He blest thy Wombe The Curse we caus'd for which He Death indures Then mourne no more but let the Griefe be Ours Fraile-Fleshes signiorizing Tyrant fell Vsurping Monarchie in her Effects Stearne Hydra-headed SINNE with Death and Hell He by his Death to free our Flesh subiects Then let Lifes Death that Lifes Death doth reliue Kill thy quicke woes and thy dead ioyes reuiue Serene thy Woe-adumbred Front sweet Saint Let Ioy transluce thy Beauties blandishment Thy Sonne feeles not for Death is Sence restraint Yet sees though dead thy liuing languishment Which well he wots though it of Loue proceed Auailes Him not nor mends His Killers Creed Thou know'st thy charge thy Master thee impos'd Sacred Euangelist His Soules deere Loue To thee her Sonne as to her Sonne dispos'd O then discharge thy charge for her behoue And like a Sonne yeeld her sad Heart reliefe With words that flow from fellow-feeling griefe Come come O Ioseph Nichodemus come Make haste post haste to take his Body downe He yet craues pitty though He yet be dumbe Yet by your ruth your loue may yet be showne Though feare of Men did make ye God forsake Yet God sith ye are Men will mercie take You did none other than his Minions did Whom of base Groomes his Grace did Minnionize Yet in his Troubles all their Heads they hid And left him for their Sinnes a Sacrifize Yet sith his Armes are spread them to embrace Ye may be sure Hee 'l take you too to grace Then sith in loue ye haue obtained leaue To take him downe that humbled so was raised Then downe retake him and withall beleeue He shall in Heau'n remounted aid be praised Vp with your Scala-Coeli to the Tree To take downe Heau'n for Heau'n of Heau'ns is Hee NOw Soule suppose thou see'st these worthy Men Laden with Linnen and with costly Gumbes Vnto the blessed-cursed Crosse to ren T'interre his Corps which DEATH now ouercomes Where beeing arriu'd the Ladders vp they reare To take Him downe with care surmounting Care See how the Infant Church whose feeble force Hath scarse the strength to lift vp Hand to Head Vnites her powers to take downe his Corse That is aliue and yet is perfect dead See with what fearefull care the Nailes they draw As if his Flesh yet felt or them He saw What prouidence they vse with Linnen large Crossing his dead Corps that to Death was Crost That so
hide his Head This Hole in Death shall doe what Life denai'd Yet shall it not long hold Him beeing dead For Heau'ns his Home Earth's but the Babylon Vpon whose Riuers bankes He still did moane Here Loue contends with Custome Loue would keepe His Corps without Custome within the Graue But Tyrant Custome swaying Loue doth weepe That Her deere LOVE shee may no longer haue And for a Fare-well Volleys forth her Voice In Grones and Sighes and Lachrimable Noise NOw Hee 's interr'd that all the World intombes But in the Center of his Court diuine Yet least Point of that Center now enwombes This Lord whose greatnesse nothing can containe Gods Peace be with Him sith Hee 's God of Peace Till by his pow'r He makes his Death decease Vnheau'n your selues ye holy Cherubins And giue attendance on your Lord in Earth Couer his Corps with your Celestiall wings From all that naturally annoyes beneath Descend sweet Angels Legioniz'd in Rankes And make your Heau'n on his Sepulchers Bankes There warble forth your Hymnes of highest praise In highest honour of your highest Lord And Lullabie asleep his Watchers Eies With secret Soule-enchanting sweet concords Whiles with Eie-blinding Beames of Glory dight He faire amounts â—o frolicke his Saints sight But tell me O thou fairest Faire of Men Where do'st thou lodge at Noone-day where do'st sleep O tell my Soule and Shee will find Thee then And as her Soule Thee found will safely keep For Thou more cleere than Springs of Eseboâ— Hast made Her with thy more cleere Blood 〈◊〉 Thy Wintry-* Woes are past Spights storms are ceas'd Now flowres of Comfort burgen eu'ry where Then rise my Loue thou canst not be diseas'd Out of the * Rockes Holes rise to mee appeare And in the Holes of Thee her refuge Rocke My Soule from from deadly Sinne and Shame vp-locke Out of this Rocke as out of Paradise Runne through the Mosse of my most feeble Flesh Vnto my Soule all soil'd with Sinne and Vice Gihons of golden streames her to refresh So may it runne O still so may it runne Till it hath made her blacke as bright as sunne O Gates of Heau'n orientall glorious Gates O Wounds no Wounds but Hau'ns of Heau'n secure Neasts of cleane Doues and Forts from fellest Fates Blessed Balme-Boxes that all sores recure O let me liuing die and dying liue In these most holy Wounds that Life doe giue O let these Wounds these Woundes indeprauate Be holy Sanctuaries for my whole Man That though sinnes sores It oft coninquinate Yet there It may be made as white as Swanne O holy Wounds Wounds holier than all Holies Still let your Bloods be Floods t'ingulph my Folies When Woes doe wound me wind me in thy Wounds Sweet Iesus that for me with Woe wast wounded When Foes by Wounds my Bodies life confound Then let my Soule in thy Wounds be surrounded There let Her rest securely till shee may By thy high Grace resume in Blisse her Clay When carnall Lust my Flesh fraile Flesh inflames Then quench the same in thy Wounds bleeding still When Furie with strong hand my Mind vnframes Then in thy Wounds reforme It to thy Will In few by this most bloody Immolation Let my by parted selfe haue whole Saluation And thou O iust commander of this All To please whose Iustice Iustice Death endur'd Thou that I hat death mad'st most patheticall Inspire me with Loue Hope and Faith assur'd That while I breath this ayre my voice may be No light vaine Ayre but voyce aduancing Thee And deepely die each obiect of my Sense In tincture of thy Sonnes all sauing Blood By which Aspect my Mindes reminiscence May ruminate the vertue of that good That is our Summum bonum and the rate Of Sinne Gods wrath and iust though heauy hate O holy God! then looke O looke on me Through the through wounded Sides of thy deere Sonne O let my Scarlet Sinnes pure purple be In his deere Blood my Sinnes Purgation For eu'n as through redde Glasse Things red do seeme So through that Blood my Workes thou good wilt deeme The kingdome of the Flesh is swaid by Sinne In Christ that kingdome thou hast crucifi'd Then let me dwell that faultlesse Flesh within Sith Sinne subdues all humane Flesh beside Then there O there let me both liue and die Sith Life by Death there liues immortally The Diuell and the World two Worlds of Strife With whom my Flesh conspires my Soule assaile Who to destroy her selfe giues them a knife And so with them conspires her selfe to spoile Then if thou flesh her not with Christ shee dies For shee in my Flesh liues none otherwise But shall I make long Furrowes on his Backe Or stil make Him but soape my Sinnes to scowre Shall He supply the Pow'r my soule doth lacke Yet shall shee still be idle with his pow're O no Lord no that 's not the way to winne But th' onely way to liue and die in sinne Then helpe me Lord to help his helping might And giue me of thy goods to grace his Grace Let not my sloth but clogge your actiue Sp'rit Although it doe the Same in Loue embrace For sith in Action Vertue doth consist Helpe me to worke together with my Christ. Had I all Faith and Mountaines could remoue And though I gaue my Body to the Fire All this were nothing if I had not Loue Then liuely Faith meere Loue doth Life-inspire Sith then without Loue Faith doth nought but die Giue me that Faith that liues by Charitie Had I of Men or Cherubins the Tongues Knew I all Secrets or all Prophesie Fed I the poore with all to me belongs All these without Loue do but liuing die And sith on Loue depends the Royall Law O let my faith Lord worke in Loue and awe Christ is a Rocke of Refuge but to those That fight thy Battailes then needs must I fight Against both Thy and My still-fighting Foes And euer flie to Him in want of might Let me rest on this Rocke but yet so rest As by my sloath He may not be opprest I long sweet God to see thy vnseene Face Then put me in this Rocks most holy Rifts That I with Moses there may see thy Grace Sith It cannot be seene but through these Clifts But if I be vnmeet thy Face to ken Shew me thy back-parts kind Lord say Amen God forbid that I should glorie sauing in the Crosse of our Lord Iesus Christ by whom the World is crucified to me and I to the World IOHN DAVIES of Hereford SONETS 1. THe ofter sinne the more griefe shewes a Saint The ofter sinne the lesse griefe notes a Fiend But oft with griefe to sinne the soule doth taint And oft to sinne with ioy the soule doth rend To sinne on Hope is sinne most full of Feare To sinue of malice is the Diuels sinne One is that Christ may greater burden beare The other that his Death might still beginne To sinne of Frailtie is a sinne but