To doe that which so many better can Not that I Learning to my selfe assume Or that I would compare with any man But as they are Scholers and by Art do write So Nature yeelds my Soule a sad delight And since all Arts at first from Nature came That goodly Creature Mother of Perfection Whom Ioues almighty hand at first did frame Taking both her and hers in his protection Why should not She now grace my barren Muse And in a Woman all defects excuse So peerelesse Princesse humbly I desire That your great wisedome would vouchsafe t'omit All faults and pardon if my spirits retire Leauing to ayme at what they cannot hit To write your worth which no pen can expresse Were but t'ecclipse your Fame and make it lesse To the Lady ELIZABETHS Grace MOst gratious Ladie faire ELIZABETH Whose Name and Virtues puts vs still in mind Of her of whom we are depriu'd by death The Phoenix of her age whose worth did bind All worthy minds so long as they haue breath In linkes of Admiration loue and zeale To that deare Mother of our Common-weale Euen you faire Princesse next our famous Queene I doe inuite vnto this wholesome feast Whose goodly wisedome though your yeares be greene By such good workes may daily be increast Though your faire eyes farre better Bookes haue seene Yet being the first fruits of a womans wit Vouchsafe you fauour in accepting it To all vertuous Ladies in generall EAch blessed Lady that in Virtue spends Your pretious time to beautifie your soules Come wait on hir whom winged Fame attends And in hir hand the Booke where she inroules Those high deserts that Maiestie commends Let this faire Queene not vnattended bee When in my Glasse she daines her selfe to see Put on your wedding garments euery one The Bridegroome stayes to entertaine you all Let Virtue be your guide for she alone Can leade you right that you can neuer fall And make no stay for feare he should be gone But fill your Lamps with oyle of burning zeale That to your Faith he may his Truth reueale Let all your roabes be purple scarlet white The roabes that Christ wore before his death Those perfit colours purest Virtue wore Come deckt with Lillies that did so delight To be preferr'd in Beauty farre before Wise Salomon in all his glory dight Whose royall roabes did no such pleasure yield As did the beauteous Lilly of the field Adorne your temples with faire Daphnes crowne The neuer changing Laurel alwaies geene Let constant hope all worldly pleasures drowne â—n token of Constancie In wise Mineruaes paths be alwaies scene Or with bright Cynthia thogh faire Venus frown With Esop crosse the posts of euery doore Where Sinne would riot making Virtue poore And let the Muses your companions be Those sacred sisters that on Pallas wait Whose Virtues with the purest minds agree Whose godly labours doe auoyd the baite Of worldly pleasures liuing alwaies free From sword from violence and from ill report To these nine Worthies all faire mindes resort Annoynt your haire with Aarons pretious oyle And bring your palmes of vict'ry in your hands To ouercome all thoughts that would defile The earthly circuit of your soules faire lands Let no dimme shadowes your cleare eyes beguile Sweet odours mirrhe gum aloes frankincense Present that King who di'd for your offence Behold bright Titans shining chariot staies All deckt with flowers of the freshest hew Attended on by Age Houres Nights and Daies Which alters not your beauty but giues you Much more and crownes you with eternall praise This golden chariot wherein you must ride Let simple Doues and subtill serpents guide Come swifter than the motion of the Sunne To be transfigur'd with our louing Lord Lest Glory end what Grace in you begun Of heau'nly riches make your greatest hoord In Christ all honour wealth and beautie 's wonne By whose perfections you appeare more faire Than Phoebus if he seau'n times brighter were Gods holy Angels will direct your Doues And bring your Serpents to the fields of rest Where he doth stay that purchast all your loues In bloody torments when he di'd opprest There shall you find him in those pleasant groues Of sweet Elizium by the Well of Life Whose cristal springs do purge from worldly strife Thus may you flie from dull and sensuall earth Whereof at first your bodies formed were That new regen'rate in a second berth Your blessed soules may liue without all feare Beeing immortall subiect to no death But in the eie of heauen so highly placed That others by your virtues may be graced Where worthy Ladies I will leaue you all Desiring you to grace this little Booke Yet some of you me thinkes I heare to call Me by my name and bid me better looke Lest vnawares I in an error fall In generall tearmes to place you with the rest Whom Fame commends to be the very best T is true I must confesse O noble Fame There are a number honoured by thee Of which some few thou didst recite by name And willd my Muse they should remembred bee Wishing some would their glorious Trophies frame Which if I should presume to vndertake My tired Hand for very feare would quake Onely by name I will bid some of those That in true Honors seate haue long bin placed Yea euen such as thou 〈◊〉 chiefly chose By whom my Muse may be the better graced Therefore vnwilling longer time to lose I will inuite some Ladies that I know But chiefly those as thou hast graced so ⧠To the Ladie Arabella GReat learned Ladie whom I long haue knowne And yet not knowne so much as I desired Rare Phoenix whose faire feathers are your owne With which you flie and are so much admired True honour whom true Fame hath so attired In glittering raiment shining much more bright Than siluer Starres in the most frostie night Come like the morning Sunne new out of bed And cast your eyes vpon this little Booke Although you be so well accompan'ed With Pallas and the Muses spare one looke Vpon this humbled King who all forsooke That in his dying armes he might imbrace Your beauteous Soule and fill it with his grace ¶ To the Ladie Susan Countesse Dowager of Kent and daughter to the Duchesse of Suffolke COme you that were the Mistris of my youth The noble guide of my vngouern'd dayes Come you that haue delighted in Gods truth Help now your handmaid to sound foorth his praise You that are pleas'd in his pure excellencie Vouchsafe to grace this holy feast and me And as your rare Perfections shew'd the Glasse Wherein I saw each wrinckle of a fault You the Sunnes virtue I that faire greene grasse That flourisht fresh by your cleere virtues taught For you possest those gifts that grace the mind Restraining youth whom Errour oft doth blind In you these noble Virtues did I note First loue and feare of God of Prince of Lawes Rare Patience with a mind so farre
body full of wounds Death last of paines his sorrows all confounds His joynts dis-joynted and his legges hang downe His alablaster breast his bloody side His members torne and on his head a Crowne Of sharpest Thorns to satisfie for pride Anguish and Paine doe all his Sences drowne While they his holy garments do diuide His bowells drie his heart full fraught with griefe Crying to him that yeelds him no reliefe To my Laâ—â— of Cumberland ¶ This with the eie of Faith thou maist behold Deere Spouse of Christ and more than I can write And here both Griefe and Ioy thou maist vnfold To view thy Loue in this most heauy plight Bowing his head his bloodlesse body cold Those eies waxe dimme that gaue vs all our light His count'nance pale yet still continues sweet His blessed blood watring his pierced feet O glorious miracle without compare Last but not least which was by him effected Vniting death life misery joy and care By his sharpe passion in his deere elected Who doth the Badges of like Liueries weare Shall find how deere they are of him respected No joy griefe paine life death was like to his Whose infinite dolours wrought eternall blisse â—…e terror of â—… creatures â—…hat inâ—…t when â—…rist died ¶ What creature on the earth did then remaine On whom the horror of this shamefull deed Did not inflict some violent touch or straine To see the Lord of all the world to bleed His dying breath did rend huge rockes in twaine The heauens betooke them to their mourning weed The Sunne grew darke and scorn'd to giue them light Who durst ecclipse a glory farre more bright The Moone and Starres did hide themselues for shame The earth did rremble in her loyall feare The Temple vaile did rent to spread his fame The Monuments did open euery where Dead Saints did rise forth of their graues and came To diuers people that remained there Within that holy City whose offence Did put their Maker to this large expence Things reasonable and reasonlesse possest The terrible impression of this fact For his oppression made them all opprest When with his blood he seal'd so faire an act In restlesse miserie to procure our rest His glorious deedes that dreadfull prison sackt When Death Hell Diuells vsing all their powre Were ouercome in that most blessed houre Being dead he killed Death and did suruiue That prowd insulting Tyrant in whose place He sends bright Immortalitie to reuiue Those whom his yron armes did long embrace Who from their loathsome graues brings them aliue In glory to behold their Sauiours face Who tooke the keys of all Deaths powre away Opening to those that would his name obay O wonder more than man can comprehend Our Ioy and Griefe both at one instant fram'd Compounded Contrarieties contend Each to exceed yet neither to be blam'd Our Griefe to see our Sauiours wretched end Our Ioy to know both Death and Hell he tam'd That we may say O Death where is thy sting Hell yeeld thy victory to thy conq'ring King Can stony hearts refraine from shedding teares To view the life and death of this sweet Saint His austere course in yong and tender yeares When great indurements could not make him faint His wants his paines his torments and his feares All which he vndertooke without constraint To shew that infinite Goodnesse must restore What infinite Iustice looked for and more Yet had he beene but of a meane degree His suffrings had beene small to what they were Meane minds will shew of what meane mouldes they bee Small griefes seeme great yet Vse doth make them beare But ah t is hard to stirre a sturdy tree Great dangers hardly puts great minds in feare They will conceale their griefes which mightie grow In their stout hearts vntill they ouerflow If then an earthly Prince may ill endure The least of those afflictions which he bare How could this all-commaunding King procure Such grieuous torments with his mind to square Legions of Angells being at his Lure He might haue liu'd in pleasure without care None can conceiue the bitter paines he felt When God and man must suffer without guilt Take all the Suffrings Thoughts can thinke vpon In eu'ry man that this huge world hath bred Let all those Paines and Suffrings meet in one Yet are they not a Mite to that he did Endure for vs Oh let vs thinke thereon That God should haue his pretious blood so shed His Greatnesse clothed in our fraile attire And pay so deare a ransome for the hire Loe here was glorie miserie life and death An vnion of contraries did accord Gladnesse and sadnesse here had one berth This wonder wrought the Passion of our Lord He suffring for all the sinnes of all th' earth No satisfaction could the world afford But this rich Iewell which from God was sent To call all those that would in time repent Which I present deare Lady to your view Vpon the Crosse depriu'd of life or breath To judge if euer Louer were so true To yeeld himselfe vnto such shamefull death Now blessed Ioseph doth both beg and sue To haue his body who possest his faith And thinkes if he this small request obtaines He wins more wealth than in the world remaines Thus honourable Ioseph is possest Of what his heart and soule so much desired And now he goes to giue that body rest That all his life with griefes and paines was tired He finds a Tombe a Tombe most rarely blest In which was neuer creature yet interred There this most pretious body he incloses Imbalmd and deckt with Lillies and with Roses Loe here the Beautie of Heau'n and Earth is laid The purest coulers vnderneath the Sunne But in this place he cannot long be staid Glory must end what horror hath begun For he the furie of the Heauens obay'd And now he must possesse what he hath wonne The Maries doe with pretious balmes attend But beeing come they find it to no end Christs resurrection ¶ For he is rize from Death t'Eternall Life And now those pretious oyntments he desires Are brought vnto him by his faithfull Wife The holy Church who in those rich attires Of Patience Loue Long suffring Voide of strife Humbly presents those oyntments he requires The oyles of Mercie Charitie and Faith Shee onely giues that which no other hath A briefe description of his beautie vpon the Canticles ¶ These pretious balmes doe heale his grieuous wounds And water of Compunction washeth cleane The soares of sinnes which in our Soules abounds So faire it heales no skarre is euer seene Yet all the glory vnto Christ redounds His pretious blood is that which must redeeme Those well may make vs louely in his sight But cannot saue without his powrefull might This is that Bridegroome that appeares so faire So sweet so louely in his Spouses sight That vnto Snowe we may his face compare His cheekes like skarlet and his eyes so bright As purest Doues that in the riuers
to the meanest most vnworthy hand that will vndertake to write thereof neither can it receiue any blemish thereby for as a right diamond can loose no whit of his beautie by the blacke foyle vnderneath it neither by beeing placed in the darke but retaines his naturall beauty and brightnesse shining in greater perfection than before so this most pretious diamond for beauty and riches exceeding all the most pretious diamonds and rich jewels of the world can receiue no blemish nor impeachment by my vnworthy hand writing but wil with the Sunne retaine his owne brightnesse and most glorious lustre though neuer so many blind eyes looke vpon him Therefore good Madame to the most perfect eyes of your vnderstanding I deliuer the inestinable treasure of all elected soules to bee perused at conuenient times as also the mirrour of your most worthy minde which may remaine in the world many yeares longer than your Honour or my selfe can liue to be a light vnto those that come after desiring to tread in the narrow path of virtue that leads the way to heauen In which way I pray God send your Honour long to continue that your light may so shine before men that they may glorifie your father which is in Heauen and that I and many others may follow you in the same tracke So wishing you in this world all increase of health and honour and in the world to come life euerlasting I rest ¶ To the Ladie Katherine Countesse of Suffolke ALthough great Lady it may seeme right strange That I a stranger should presume thus farre To write to you yet as the times doe change So are we subiect to that fatall starre Vnder the which we were produc'd to breath That starre that guides vs euen vntill our death And guided me to frame this worke of grace Not of it selfe but by celestiall powres To which both that and wee must needs giue place Since what we haue we cannot count it ours For health wealth honour sickenesse death all Is in Gods powre which makes vs rise and fall And since his powre hath giuen me powre to write A subiect sit for you to looke vpon Wherein your soule may take no small delight When her bright eyes beholds that holy one By whose great wisedome loue and speciall grace Shee was created to behold his face Vouchsafe sweet Lady to accept these lines Writ by a hand that doth desire to doe All seruices to you whose worth combines The worthiâ—st minds to loue and honour you Whose beautie wisedome children high estate Doe all concurre to make you fortunate But chiefly your most honorable Lord Whose noble virtues Fame can ne'r forget His hand being alwayes ready to afford Help to the weake to the vnfortunate All which begets more honour and respect Than Croessus wealth or Caesars sterne aspect And rightly sheweth that hee is descended Of honourable Howards antient house Whose noble deedes by former times commended Do now remaine in your most loyall Spouse On whom God powres all blessings from aboue Wealth honour children and a worthy Loue Which is more deare to him than all the rest You being the louing Hinde and pleasant Roe Wife of his youth in whom his soule is blest Fountaine from whence his chiefe delights do flow Faire tree from which the fruit of Honor springs Heere I present to you the King of kings Desiring you to take a perfit view Of those great torments Patience did indure And reape those Comforts that belongs to you Which his most painfull death did then assure Writing the Couenant with his pretious blood That your faire soule might bathe her in that flood And let your noble daughters likewise reade This little Booke that I present to you On heauenly food let them vouchsafe to feede Heere they may see a Louer much more true Than euer was since first the world began This poore rich King that di'd both God and man Yea let those Ladies which do represent All beauty wisedome zeale and loue Receiue this iewell from Iehoua sent This spotlesse Lambe this perfit patient Doue Of whom faire Gabriel Gods bright Mercury Brought downe a message from the Deitie Here may they see him in a flood of teares Crowned with thornes and bathing in his blood Here may they see his feares exceed all feares When Heauen in Iustice flat against him stood And loathsome death with grim and gastly look Presented him that blacke infernall booke Wherein the sinnes of all the world were writ In deepe Characters of due punishment And naught but dying breath could cancel it Shame death and hell must make the attonement Shewing their euidence seizing wrongful Right Placing heau'ns Beauty in deaths darkest night Yet through the sable Clowdes of Shame Death His beauty shewes more clearer than before Death lost his strength when he did loose his breath As fire supprest doth shine and flame the more So in Deaths ashie pale discoloured face Fresh beauty shin'd yeelding farre greater grace No Doue no Swan nor Iu'rie could compare With this faire corps when 't was by death imbrac'd No rose nor no vermillion halfe so faire As was that pretious blood that iuterlac'd His body which bright Angels did attend Waiting on him that must to Heauen ascend In whom is all that Ladies can desire If Beauty who hath bin more faire than he If Wisedome doth not all the world admire The depth of his that cannot searched be If wealth if honour fame or Kingdoms store Who euer liu'd that was possest of more If zeale if grace if loue if pietie If constancie if faith if faire obedience If valour patience or sobrietie If chast behauiour meekenesse continence If iustice mercie bountie charitie Who can compare with his Diuinitie Whose vertues more than thoughts can apprehend I leaue to their more cleere imagination That will vouchsafe their borrowed time to spend In meditating and in contemplation Of his rare parts true honours faire prospect The perfect line that goodnesse doth direct And vnto you I wish those sweet desires That from your perfect thoughts doe daily spring Increasing still pure bright and holy fires Which sparkes of pretious grace by faith doe spring Mounting your soule vnto eternall rest There to liue happily among the best ⧠To the Ladie ANNE Countesse of Dorcet * ⎠* TO you I dedicate this worke of Grace This frame of Glory which I haue erected For your faire mind I hold the fittest place Where virtue should be fetled protected If highest thoughts true honor do imbrace And holy Wisdom is of them respected Then in this Mirrour let your faire eyes looke To view your virtues in this blessed Booke Blest by our Sauiours merits not my skil Which I acknowledge to be very small Yet if the least part of his blessed Will I haue perform'd I count I haue done all One sparke of grace sufficient is to fill Our Lampes with oyle ready when he doth call To enter with the Bridegroome to
are Washed with milke to giue the more delight His head is likened to the finest gold His curled lockes so beauteous to behold Blacke as a Raven in her blackest hew His lips like skarlet threeds yet much more sweet Than is the sweetest hony dropping dew Or hony combes where all the Bees doe meet Yea he is constant and his words are true His cheekes are beds of spices flowers sweet His lips like Lillies dropping downe pure mirrhe Whose loue before all worlds we doe preferre To my Lady of Cumberland ¶ Ah! giue me leaue good Lady now to leaue This taske of Beauty which I tooke in hand I cannot wade so deepe I may deceaue My selfe before I can attaine the land Therefore good Madame in your heart I leaue His perfect picture where it still shall stand Deepely engraued in that holy shrine Enuironed with Loue and Thoughts diuine There may you see him as a God in glory And as a man in miserable case There may you reade his true and perfect storie His bleeding body there you may embrace And kisse his dying cheekes with teares of sorrow With ioyfull griefe you may intreat for grace And all your prayers and your almes-deeds May bring to stop his cruell wounds that bleeds Oft times hath he made triall of your loue And in your Faith hath tooke no small delight By Crosses and Afflictions he doth proue Yet still your heart remaineth firme and right Your loue so strong as nothing can remoue Your thoughts beeing placed on him both day and night Your constant soule doth lodge betweene her brests This Sweet of sweets in which all glory rests Sometime h' appeares to thee in Shepheards weed And so presents himselfe before thine eyes A good old man that goes his flocke to feed Thy colour changes and thy heart doth rise Thou call'st he comes thou find'st t is he indeed Thy Soule conceaues that he is truely wise Nay more desires that he may be the Booke Whereon thine eyes continually may looke Sometime imprison'd naked poore and bare Full of diseases impotent and lame Blind deafe and dumbe he comes vnto his faire To see if yet shee will remaine the same Nay sicke and wounded now thou do'st prepare To cherish him in thy deare Louers name Yea thou bestow'st all paines all cost all care That may relieue him and his health repaire These workes of mercy are so sweete so deare To him that is the Lord of Life and Loue That all thy prayers he vouchsafes to heare And sends his holy Spirit from aboue Thy eyes are op'ned and thou seest so cleare No worldly thing can thy faire mind remoue Thy faith thy prayers and his speciall grace Doth open Heau'n where thou behold'st his face These are those Keyes Saint Peter did possesse Which with a Spirituall powre are giu'n to thee To heale the soules of those that doe transgresse By thy faire virtues which if once they see Vnto the like they doe their minds addresse Such as thou art such they desire to be If they be blind thou giu'st to them their sight If deafe or lame they heare and goe vpright Yea if possest with any euill spirits Such powre thy faire examples haue obtain'd To cast them out applying Christs pure merits By which they are bound and of all hurt restrain'd If strangely taken wanting sence or wits Thy faith appli'd vnto their soules so pain'd Healeth all griefes and makes them grow so strong As no defects can hang vpon them long Thou beeing thus rich no riches do'st respect Nor do'st thou care for any outward showe The proud that doe faire Virtues rules neglect Desiring place thou fittest them belowe All wealth and honour thou do'st quite reiect If thou perceiu'st that once it prooues a foe To virtue learning and the powres diuine Thou mai'st conuert but neuer wilt incline To fowle disorder or licentiousnesse But in thy modest vaile do'st sweetly couer The staines of other sinnes to make themselues That by this meanes thou mai'st in time recouer Those weake lost sheepe that did so long transgresse Presenting them vnto thy deerest Louer That when he brings them backe vnto his fold In their conuersion then he may behold Thy beauty shining brighter than the Sunne Thine honour more than euer Monarke gaind Thy wealth exceeding his that Kingdomes wonne Thy Loue vnto his Spouse thy Faith vnfaind Thy Constancy in what thou hast begun Till thou his heauenly Kingdom haue obtaind Respecting worldly wealth to be but drosse Which if abuz'd doth prooue the owners losse Great Cleopatra's loue to Anthony Can no way be compared vnto thine Shee left her Loue in his extremitie When greatest need should cause her to combine Her force with his to get the Victory Her Loue was earthly and thy Loue Diuine Her Loue was onely to support her pride Humilitie thy Loue and Thee doth guide That glorious part of Death which last shee plai'd T' appease the ghost of her deceased Loue Had neuer needed if shee could haue stai'd When his extreames made triall and did proue Her leaden loue vnconstant and afraid Their wicked warres the wrath of God might moue To take reuenge for chast Octavia's wrongs Because shee enjoyes what vnto her belongs No Cleopatra though thou wert as faire As any Creature in Antonius eyes Yea though thou wert as rich as wise as rare As any Pen could write or Wit deuise Yet with this Lady canst thou not compare Whose inward virtues all thy worth denies Yet thou a blacke Egyptian do'st appeare Thou false shee true and to her Loue more deere Shee sacrificeth to her deerest Loue With flowres of Faith and garlands of Good deeds Shee flies not from him when afflictions proue Shee beares his crosse and stops his wounds that bleeds Shee loues and liues chaste as the Turtle doue Shee attends vpon him and his flocke shee feeds Yea for one touch of death which thou did'st trie A thousand deaths shee euery day doth die Her virtuous life exceeds thy worthy death Yea she hath richer ornaments of state Shining more glorious than in dying breath Thou didst when either pride or cruell fate Did worke thee to preuent a double death To stay the malice scorne and cruell hate Of Rome that joy'd to see thy pride pull'd downe Whose Beauty wrought the hazard of her Crowne Good Madame though your modestie be such Not to acknowledge what we know and find And that you thinke these prayses ouermuch Which doe expresse the beautie of your mind Yet pardon me although I giue a touch Vnto their eyes that else would be so blind As not to see thy store and their owne wants From whose faire seeds of Virtue spring these plants And knowe when first into this world I came This charge was giu'n me by th' Eternall powres Th'euerlasting Trophie of thy fame To build and decke it with the sweetest flowres That virtue yeelds Then Madame doe not blame Me when I shew the World but what is yours And decke you with
espows'd In whose faire breast true virtue then was hous'd Oh what delight did my weake spirits find In those pure parts of her well framed mind And yet it grieues me that I cannot be Neere vnto her whose virtues did agree With those faire ornaments of outward beauty Which did enforce from all both loue and dutie Vnconstant Fortune thou art most too blame Who casts vs downe into so lowe a frame Where our great friends we cannot dayly see So great a diffrence is there in degree Many are placed in those Orbes of state Parters in honour so ordain'd by Fate Neerer in show yet farther off in loue In which the lowest alwayes are aboue But whither am I carried in conceit My Wit too weake to conster of the great Why not although we are but borne of earth We may behold the Heauens despising death And louing heauen that is so farre aboue May in the end vouchsafe vs entire loue Therefore sweet Memorie doe thou retaine Those pleasures past which will not turne againe Remember beauteous Dorsets former sports So farre from beeing toucht by ill reports Wherein my selfe did alwaies beare a part While reuerend Loue presented my true heart Those recreations let me beare in mind Which her sweet youth and noble thoughts did finde Whereof depriu'd I euermore must grieue Hating blind Fortune carelesse to relieue And you sweet Cooke-ham whom these Ladies leaue I now must tell the griefe you did conceaue At their departure when they went away How euery thing retaind a sad dismay Nay long before when once an inkeling came Me thought each thing did vnto sorrow frame The trees that were so glorious in our view Forsooke both flowres and fruit when once they knew Of your depart their very leaues did wither Changing their colours as they grewe together But when they saw this had no powre to stay you They often wept though speechlesse could not pray you Letting their teares in your faire bosoms fall As if they said Why will ye leaue vs all This being vaine they cast their leaues away Hoping that pitie would haue made you stay Their frozen tops like Ages hoarie haires Showes their disasters languishing in feares A swarthy riueld ryne all ouer spread Their dying bodies halfe aliue halfe dead But your occasions call'd you so away That nothing there had power to make you stay Yet did I see a noble gratefull minde Requiting each according to their kind Forgetting not to turne and take your leaue Of these sad creatures powrelesse to receiue Your fauour when with griefe you did depart Placing their former pleasures in your heart Giuing great charge to noble Memory There to preserue their loue continually But specially the loue of that faire tree That first and last you did vouchsafe to see In which it pleas'd you oft to take the ayre With noble Dorset then a virgin faire Where many a learned Booke was read and skand To this faire tree taking me by the hand You did repeat the pleasures which had past Seeming to grieue they could no longer last And with a chaste yet louing kisse tooke leaue Of which sweet kisse I did it soone bereaue Scorning a sencelesse creature should possesse So rare a fauour so great happinesse No other kisse it could receiue from me For feare to giue backe what it tooke of thee So I ingratefull Creature did deceiue it Of that which you vouchsaft in loue to leaue it And though it oft had giu'n me much content Yet this great wrong I neuer could repent But of the happiest made it most forlorne To shew that nothing's free from Fortunes scorne While all the rest with this most beauteous tree Made their sad consort Sorrowes harmony The Floures that on the banks and walkes did grow Crept in the ground the Grasse did weepe for woe The Windes and Waters seem'd to chide together Because you went away they knew not whither And those sweet Brookes that ranne so faire and cleare With griefe and trouble wrinckled did appeare Those pretty Birds that wonted were to sing Now neither sing nor chirp nor vse their wing But with their tender feet on some bare spray Warble forth sorrow and their owne dismay Faire Philomela leaues her mournefull Ditty Drownd in dead sleepe yet can procure no pittie Each arbour banke each seate each stately tree Lookes bare and desolate now for want of thee Turning greene tresses into frostie gray While in cold griefe they wither all away The Sunne grew weake his beames no comfort gaue While all greene things did make the earth their graue Each brier each bramble when you went away Caught fast your clothes thinking to make you stay Delightfull Eccho wonted to reply To our last words did now for sorrow die The house cast off each garment that might grace it Putting on Dust and Cobwebs to deface it All desolation then there did appeare When you were going whom they held so deare This last farewell to Cooke-ham here I giue When I am dead thy name in this may liue Wherein I haue perform'd her noble hest Whose virtues lodge in my vnworthy breast And euer shall so long as life remaines Tying my heart to her by those rich chaines FINIS ¶ To the doubtfull Reader GEntle Reader if thou desire to be resolued why I giue this Title Salue Deus Rex Iudaeorum know for certaine that it was deliuered vnto me in sleepe many yeares before I had any intent to write in this maner and was quite out of my memory vntill I had written the Passion of Christ when immediately it came into my remembrance what I had dreamed long before and thinking it a significant token that I was appointed to performe this Worke I gaue the very same words I receiued in sleepe as the fittest Title I could deuise for this Booke
to sing That by her noble breasts sweet harmony Their musicke might in eares of Angels ring While saints like Swans about this siluer brook Should Hallalu-iah sing continually Writing her praises in th' eternall booke Of endlesse honour true fames memorie Thus I in sleep the heauenli'st musicke hard That euer earthly eares did entertaine And durst not wake for feare to be debard Of what my sences sought still to retaine Yet sleeping praid dull Slumber to vnfold Her noble name who was of all admired When presently in drowsie tearmes he told Not onely that but more than I desired This nymph quoth he great Penbrooke hight by name Sister to valiant Sidney whose cleere light Giues light to all that tread true paths of Fame Who in the globe of heau'n doth shine so bright That beeing dead his fame doth him suruiue Still liuing in the hearts of worthy men Pale Death is dead but he remaines aliue Whose dying wounds restor'd him life agen And this faire earthly goddesse which you see Bellona and her virgins doe attend In virtuous studies of Diuinitie Her pretious time continually doth spend So that a Sister well shee may be deemd To him that liu'd and di'd so nobly And farre before him is to be esteemd For virtue wisedome learning dignity Whose beauteous soule hath gain'd a double life Both here on earth and in the heau'ns aboue Till dissolution end all worldly strife Her blessed spirit remaines of holy loue Directing all by her immortall light In this huge sea of sorrowes griefes and feares With contemplation of Gods powrefull might Shee sils the eies the hearts the tongues the eares Of after-comming ages which shall reade Her loue her zeale her faith and pietie The faire impression of whose worthy deed Seales her pure soule vnto the Deitie That both in Hean'n and Earth it may remaine Crownd with her Makers glory and his loue And this did Father Slumber tell with paine Whose dulnesse scarce could suffer him to moue When I awaking left him and his bowre Much grieued that I could no longer stay Sencelesse was sleepe not to admit me powre As I had spent the night to spend the day Then had God Morphie shew'd the end of all And what my heart desir'd mine eies had seene For as I wak'd me thought I heard one call For that bright Charet lent by Ioues faire Queene But thou base cunning thiefe that robs our sprits Of halfe that span of life which yeares doth giue To Sleepe And yet no praise vnto thy selfe it merits To make a seeming death in those that liue Yea wickedly thou doest consent to death Within thy restfull bed to rob our soules In Slumbers bowre thou steal'st away our breath Yet none there is that thy base stealths controules If poore and sickly creatures would imbrace thee Or they to whom thou giu'st a taste of pleasure Thou fli'st as if Acteons hounds did chase thee Or that to stay with them thou hadst no leasure But though thou hast depriu'd me of delight By stealing from me ere I was aware I know I shall enioy the selfe same sight Thou hast no powre my waking sprites to barre For to this Lady now I will repaire Presenting her the fruits of idle houres Thogh many Books she writes that are more rare Yet there is hony in the meanest flowres Which is both wholesome and delights the taste Though sugar be more finer higher priz'd Yet is the painefull Bee no whit disgrac'd Nor her faire wax or hony more despiz'd And though that learned damsell and the rest Haue in a higher style her Trophie fram'd Yet these vnlearned lines beeing my best Of her great wisedom can no whit be blam'd And therefore first I here present my Dreame And next inuite her Honour to my feast For my cleare reason sees her by that streame Where her rare virtues daily are increast So crauing pardon for this bold attempt I here present my mirrour to her view Whose noble virtues cannot be exempt My Glasse beeing steele declares them to be true And Madame if you will vouchsafe that grace To grace those flowres that springs from virtues ground Though your faire mind on worthier workes is plac'd On workes that are more deepe and more profound Yet is it no disparagement to you To see your Sauiour in a Shepheards weed Vnworthily presented in your viewe Whose worthinesse will grace each line you reade Receiue him here by my vnworthy hand And reade his paths of faire humility Who though our sinnes in number passe the sand They all are purg'd by his Diuinity ¶ To the Ladie Lucie Countesse of Bedford ME thinkes I see faire Virtue readie stand T' vnlocke the closet of your louely breast Holding the key of Knowledge in her hand Key of that Cabbine where your selfe doth rest To let him in by whom her youth was blest The true-loue of your soule your hearts delight Fairer than all the world in your cleare sight He that descended from celestiall glory To taste of our infirmities and sorrowes Whose heauenly wisdom read the earthly storie Offraile Humanity which his godhead borrows Loe here he coms all stucke with pale deaths arrows In whose most pretious wounds your soule may reade Saluation while he dying Lord doth bleed You whose cleare Iudgement farre exceeds my skil Vonchsafe to entertaine this dying louer The Ocean of true grace whose streames doe fill All those with Ioy that can his loue recouer About this blessed Arke bright Angels houer Where your faire soule may sure and safely rest When he is sweetly seated in your brest There may your thoughts as seruants to your heart Giue true attendance on this louely guest While he doth to that blessed bowre impart Flowres of fresh comforts decke that bed of rest With such rich beauties as may make it blest And you in whom all raritie is found May be with his eternall glory crownd To the Ladie Margaret Countesse Dowager of Cumberland * ⎠* RIght Honoutable and Excellent Lady I may say with Saint Peter Siluer nor gold haue I none but such as I haue that giue I you for hauing neither rich pearles of India nor fine gold of Arabia nor diamonds of inestimable value neither those rich treasures Arramaticall Gums incense and sweet odours which were presented by those Kingly Philosophers to the babe Iesus I present vnto you euen our Lord Iesus himselfe whose infinit value is not to be comprehended within the weake imagination or wit of man and as Saint Peter gaue health to the body so I deliuer you the health of the soule which is this most pretious pearle of all perfection this rich diamond of deuotion this perfect gold growing in the veins of that excellent earth of the most blessed Paradice wherein our second Adam had his restlesse habitation The sweet incense balsums odours and gummes that flowes from that beautifull tree of Life sprung from the roote of Iessie which is so super-excellent that it giueth grace
the feast Where he that is the greatest may be least Greatnesse is no sure frame to build vpon No worldly treasure can assure that place God makes both euen the Cottage with the Throne All worldly honours there are counted base Those he holds deare and reckneth as his owne Whose virtuous deeds by his especially grace Haue gain'd his loue his kingdome and his crowne Whom in the booke of Life he hath set downe Titles of honour which the world bestowes To none but to the virtuous doth belong As beauteous bowres where true worth should repose And where his dwellings should be built most strong But when they are bestow'd vpon her foes Poore virtues friends indure the greatest wrong For they must fuffer all indignity Vntill in heau'n they better graced be What difference was there when the world began Was it not Virtue that distinguisht all All sprang but from one woman and one man Then how doth Gentry come to rise and fall Or who is he that very rightly can Distinguish of his birth or tell at all In what meane state his Ancestors haue bin Before some one of worth did honour win Whose successors although they beare his name Possessing not the riches of his â—inde How doe we know they spring out of the same True stocke of honour beeing not of that kiâ—d It is faire virtue gets immortall fame T is that doth all loue and duty bind If he that much enjoyes doth little good We may suppose he comes not of that blood Nor is he fit for honour or command If base affections ouer-rules his mind Or that selfe-will doth carry such a hand As worldly pleasures haue the powre to blind So as he cannot see nor vnderstand How to discharge that place to him affign'd Gods Stewards must for all the poore prouide If in Gods house they purpose to abide To you as to Gods Steward I doe write In whom the seeds of virtue haue bin sowne By your most worthy mother in whose right All her faire parts you challenge as your owne If you sweet Lady will appeare as bright As euer creature did that time hath knowne Then weare this Diadem I present to thee Which I haue fram'd for her Eternitie You are the Heire apparant of this Crowne Of goodnesse bountie grace loue pietie By birth it s yours then keepe it as your owne Defend it from all base indignitie The right your Mother hath to it is knowne Best vnto you who reapt such fruit thereby This Monument of her faire worth retaine In your pure mind and keepe it from al staine And as your Ancestors at first possest Their honours for their honourable deeds Let their faire virtues neuer be transgrest Bind vp the broken stop the wounds that bleeds Succour the poore comfort the comfortlesse Cherish faire plants suppresse vnwholsom weeds Although base pelfe do chance to come in place Yet let true worth receiue your greatest grace So shal you shew from whence you are descended And leaue to all posterities your fame So will your virtues alwaies be commended And euery one will reuerence your name So this poore worke of mine shal be defended From any scandall that the world can frame And you a glorious Actor will appeare Louely to all but vnto God most deare I know right well these are but needlesse lines To you that are so perfect in your part Whose birth and education both combines Nay more than both a pure and godly heart So well instructed to such faire designes By your deere Mother that there needs no art Your ripe discretion in your tender yeares By all your actions to the world appeares I doe but set a candle in the sunne And adde one drop of water to the sea Virtue and Beautie both together run When you were borne within your breast to stay Their quarrell ceast which long before begun They liue in peace and all doe them obey In you faire Madame are they richly plac'd Where all their worth by Eternity is grac'd You goddesse-like vnto the world appeare Inricht with more than fortune can bestowe Goodnesse and Grace which you doe hold more deere Than worldly wealth which melts away like snowe Your pleasure is the word of God to heare That his most holy precepts you may know Your greatest honour faire and virtuous deeds Which from the loue and feare of God proceeds Therefore to you good Madame I present His louely loue more worth than purest gold Who for your sake his pretious blood hath spent His death and passion here you may behold And view this Lambe that to the world was sent Whom your faire soule may in her armes infold Louing his loue that did endure such paine That you in heauen a worthy place might gaine For well you knowe this world is but a Stage Where all doe play their parts and must be gone Here 's no respect of persons youth nor age Death seizeth all he neuer spareth one None can preuent or stay that tyrants rage But Iesus Christ the Iust By him alone He was orecome He open set the dore To Eternall life ne're seene nor knowne before He is the stone the builders did refuse Which you sweet Lady are to build vpon He is the rocke that holy Church did chuse Among which number you must needs be one Faire Shepheardesse t is you that he will vse To feed his flocke that trust in him alone All wordly blessings he vouchsafes to you That to the poore you may returne his due And if deserts a Ladies loue may gaine Then tell me who hath more deseru'd than he Therefore in recompence of all his paine Bestowe your paines to reade and pardon me If out of wants or weakenesse of my braine I haue not done this worke sufficiently Yet lodge him in the closet of your heart Whose worth is more than can be shew'd by Art TO THE VERTVOVS Reader OFten haue I heard that it is the property of some women not only to emulate the virtues and perfections of the rest but also by all their powers of ill speaking to ecclipse the brightnes of their deserued fame now contrary to this custome which men I hope vniustly lay to their charge I haue written this small volume or little booke for the generall vse of all virtuous Ladies and Gentlewomen of this kingdome and in commendation of some particular persons of our owne sexe such as for the most part are so well knowne to my selfe and others that I dare vndertake Fame dares not to call any better And this haue I done to make knowne to the world that all women deserue not to be blamed though some forgetting they are women themselues and in danger to be condemned by the words of their owne mouthes fall into so great an errour as to speake vnaduisedly against the rest of their sexe which if it be true I am perswaded they can shew their owne imperfection in nothing more and therefore could wish for their owne ease modesties and
to liue in Shame And drinke that poyson with a cheerefull heart That could all Heavenly grace to her impart To the Ladie of Cumberland the Introduction to the passion of Christ. ¶ This Grace great Lady doth possesse thy Soule And makes thee pleasing in thy Makers sight This Grace doth all imperfect Thoughts controule Directing thee to serue thy God aright Still reckoning him the Husband of thy Soule Which is most pretious in his glorious sight Because the Worlds delights shee doth denie For him who for her sake vouchsaf'd to die And dying made her Dowager of all Nay more Co-heire of that eternall blisse That Angels lost and We by Adams fall Meere Cast-awaies rais'd by a Iudas kisse Christs bloody sweat the Vineger and Gall The Speare Sponge Nailes his buffeting with Fists His bitter Passion Agony and Death Did gaine vs Heauen when He did loose his breath A preamble of the Author before the Passion ¶ These high deserts inuites my lowely Muse To write of Him and pardon craue of thee For Time so spent I need make no excuse Knowing it doth with thy faire Minde agree So well as thou no Labour wilt refuse That to thy holy Loue may pleasing be His Death and Passion I desire to write And thee to reade the blessed Soules delight But my deare Muse now whither wouldst thou flie Aboue the pitch of thy appointed straine With Icarus thou seekest now to trie Not waxen wings but thy poore barren Braine Which farre too weake these fiely lines descrie Yet cannot this thy forward Mind restraine But thy poore Infant Verse must soare aloft Not fearing threat'ning dangers happening oft Thinke when the eye of Wisdom shall discover Thy weakling Muse to flie that scarce could creepe And in the Ayre aboue the Clowdes to hover When better 't were mued vp and fast asleepe They 'l thinke with Phaeton thou canst ne'r recover But helplesse with that poore yong Lad to weepe The little World of thy weake Wit on fire Where thou wilt perish in thine owne desire But yet the Weaker thou doest seeme to be In Sexe or Sence the more his Glory shines That doth infuze such powrefull Grace in thee To shew thy Love in these few humble Lines The Widowes Myte with this may well agree Her little All more worth than golden mynes Beeing more deerer to our loving Lord Than all the wealth that Kingdoms could afford Therefore I humbly for his Grace will pray That he will give me Power and Strength to Write That what I haue begun so end I may As his great Glory may appeare more bright Yea in these Lines I may no further stray Than his most holy Spirit shall giue me Light That blindest Weakenesse be not over-bold The manner of his Passion to vnfold In other Phrases than may well agree With his pure Doctrine and most holy Writ That Heavens cleare eye and all the World may see I seeke his Glory rather than to get The Vulgars breath the seed of Vanitie Nor Fames lowd Trumpet care I to admit But rather strive in plainest Words to showe The Matter which I seeke to vndergoe A Matter farre beyond my barren skill To shew with any Life this map of Death This Storie that whole Worlds with Bookes would fill In these few Lines will put me out of breath To run so swiftly vp this mightie Hill I may behold it with the eye of Faith But to present this pure vnspotted Lambe I must confesse I farre vnworthy am Yet if he please t' illuminate my Spirit And giue me Wisdom from his holy Hill That I may Write part of his glorious Merit If he vouchsafe to guide my Hand and Quill To shew his Death by which we doe inherit Those endlesse Ioyes that all our hearts doe fill Then will I tell of that sad blacke fac'd Night Whose mourning Mantle covered Heavenly Light Here beginâ—… the Passion 〈◊〉 Christ. ¶ That very Night our Saviour was betrayd Oh night exceeding all the nights of sorrow When our most blessed Lord although dismayd Yet would not he one Minutes respite borrow But to Mount Oliues went though sore afraid To welcome Night and entertaine the Morrow And as he oft vnto that place did goe So did he now to meete his long nurst woe He told his deere Disciples that they all Should be offended by him that selfe night His Griefe was great and theirs could not be small To part from him who was their sole Delight Saint Peter thought his Faith could neuer fall No mote could happen in so cleare a sight Which made him say Though all men were offended Yet would he never though his life were ended But his deare Lord made answere That before The Cocke did crowe he should deny him thrice This could not choose but grieue him very sore That his hot Loue should prooue more cold than Ice Denying him he did so much adore No imperfection in himselfe hespies But saith againe with him hee 'l surely die Rather than his deare Master once denie And all the rest did likewise say the same Of his Disciples at that instant time But yet poore Peter he was most too blame That thought aboue them all by Faith to clime His forward speech inflicted sinne and shame When Wisdoms eyes did looke and checke his crime Who did foresee and told it him before Yet would he needs auerre it more and more Now went our Lord vnto that holy place Sweet Gethsemaine hallowed by his presence That blessed Garden which did now embrace His holy corps yet could make no defence Against those Vipers obiects of disgrace Which sought that pure eternall Loue to quench Here his Disciples willed he to stay Whilst he went further where he meant to pray None were admitted with their Lord to goe But Peter and the sonnes of Zebed'us To them good Iesus opened all his woe He gaue them leaue his sorows to discusse His deepest griefes he did not scorne to showe These three deere friends so much he did intrust Beeing sorowfull and ouercharg'd with griefe He told it them yet look'd for no reliefe Sweet Lord how couldst thou thus to flesh and blood Communicate thy griefe tell of thy woes Thou knew'st they had no powre to doe thee good But were the cause thou must endure these blowes Beeing the Scorpions bred in Adams mud Whose poys'ned sinnes did worke among thy foes To re-ore-charge thy ouer-burd'ned soule Although the sorowes now they doe condole Yet didst thou tell them of thy troubled state Of thy Soules heauinesse vnto the death So full of Loue so free wert thou from hate To bid them stay whose sinnes did stop thy breath When thou wert entring at so straite a gate Yea entring euen into the doore of Death Thou bidst them tarry there and watch with thee Who from thy pretious blood-shed were not free Bidding them tarry thou didst further goe To meet affliction in such gracefull sort As might mooue pitie both in friend and foe Thy sorowes
the truth vntruths they seeke to frame Now al their powres their wits their strengths they bend Against one siely weake vnarmed man Who no resistance makes though much he can To free himselfe from these vnlearned men Who call'd him Sauiour in his blessed name Yet farre from knowing him their Sauiour then That came to saue both them and theirs from blame Though they retire and fall they come agen To make a surer purchase of their shame With lights and torches now they find the way To take the Shepheard whilst the sheep doe stray Why should vnlawfull actions vse the Light Inniquitie in Darkenesse seekes to dwell Sinne rides his circuit in the dead of Night Teaching all soules the ready waies to hell Sathan coms arm'd with all the powres of Spight Heartens his Champions makes them rude and fell Like rau'ning wolues to shed his guiltlesse blood Who thought no harme but di'd to doe them good Here Falshood beares the shew of formall Right Base Treacherie hath gote a guard of men Tyranny attends with all his strength and might To leade this siely Lamb to Lyons denne Yet he vnmoou'd in this most wretched plight Goes on to meete them knowes the houre and when The powre of darkenesse must expresse Gods ire Therefore to saue these few was his desire These few that wait on Pouerty and Shame And offer to be sharers in his Ils These few that will be spreaders of his Fame He will not leaue to Tyrants wicked wils But still desires to free them from all blame Yet Feare goes forward Anger Patience kils A Saint is mooued to reuenge a wrong And Mildnesse doth what doth to Wrath belong For Peter grieu'd at what might then befall Yet knew not what to doe nor what to thinke Thought something must be done now if at all To free his Master that he might not drinke This poys'ned draught farre bitterer than gall For now he sees him at the very brinke Of griesly Death who gins to shew his face Clad in all colours of a deepe disgrace And now those hands that neuer vs'd to fight Or drawe a weapon in his owne defence Too forward is to doe his Master right Since of his wrongs hee feeles so true a sence But ah poore Peter now thou wantest might And hee 's resolu'd with them he will goe hence To draw thy sword in such a helpelesse cause Offends thy Lord and is against the Lawes So much he hates Revenge so farre from Hate That he vouchsafes to heale whom thou dost wound His paths are Peace with none he holdes Debate His Patience stands vpon so sure a ground To counsell thee although it comes too late Nay to his foes his mercies so abound That he in pitty doth thy will restraine And heales the hurt and takes away the paine For willingly he will endure this wrong Although his pray'rs might have obtain'd such grace As to dissolve their plots though ne'r so strong And bring these wicked Actors in worse case Than Aegypts King on whom Gods plagues did throng But that foregoing Scriptures must take place If God by prayers had an army sent Of powrefull Angels who could them prevent Yet mightie IESVS meekely ask'd Why they With Swords and Staves doe come as to a Thiefe Hee teaching in the Temple day by day None did offend or give him cause of griefe Now all are forward glad is he that may Give most offence and yeeld him least reliefe His hatefull foes are ready now to take him And all his deere Disciples do forsake him Those deare Disciples that he most did love And were attendant at his becke and call When triall of affliction came to prove They first left him who now must leave them all For they were earth and he came from above Which made them apt to flie and fit to fall Though they protest they never will forsake him They do like men when dangers overtake them And he alone is bound to loose vs all Whom with vnhallowed hands they led along To wicked Caiphas in the Iudgement Hall Who studies onely how to doe him wrong High Priests and Elders People great and small With all reprochfull words about him throng False Witnesses are now call'd in apace Whose trothlesse tongues must make pale death imbrace The beauty of the World Heauens chiefest Glory The mirrour of Martyrs Crowne of holy Saints Loue of th' Almighty blessed Angels story Water of Life which none that drinks it faints Guide of the Iust where all our Light we borrow Mercy of Mercies Hearer of Complaints Triumpher ouer Death Ransomer of Sinne Falsly accused now his paines begin Their tongues doe serue him as a Passing bell For what they say is certainly beleeued So sound a tale vnto the Iudge they tell That he of Life must shortly be bereaued Their share of Heauen they doe not care to sell So his afflicted Heart be throughly grieued They tell his Words though farre from his intent And what his Speeches were not what he meant That he Gods holy Temple could destroy And in three daies could build it vp againe This seem'd to them a vaine and idle toy It would not sinke into their sinful braine Christs blessed body al true Christians joy Should die and in three dayes reuiue againe This did the Lord of Heauen and earth endure Vniustly to be charg'd by tongues impure And now they all doe giue attentiue eare To heare the answere which he will not make The people wonder how he can forbeare And these great wrongs so patiently can take But yet he answers not nor doth he care Much more he will endure for our sake Nor can their wisdoms any way discouer Who he should be that proou'd so true a Louer To entertaine the sharpest pangs of death And fight a combate in the depth of hell For wretched Worldlings made of dust and earth Whose hard'ned hearts with pride and mallice swell In midst of bloody sweat and dying breath He had compassion on these tyrants fell And purchast them a place in Heau'n for euer When they his Soule and Body sought to seuer Sinnes vgly mists so blinded had their eyes That at Noone dayes they could discerne no Light These were those fooles that thought themselues so wise The Iewish wolues that did our Sauiour bite For now they vse all meanes they can deuise To beate downe truth and goe against all right Yea now they take Gods holy name in vaine To know the truth which truth they doe prophane The chiefest Hel-hounds of this hatefull crew Rose vp to aske what answere he could make Against those false accusers in his view That by his speech they might aduantage take He held his peace yet knew they said not true No answere would his holy wisdome make Till he was charged in his glorious name Whose pleasure t was he should endure this shame Then with so mild a Maiestie he spake As they might easly know from whence he came His harmelesse tongue doth no exceptions
that crowne which is your due That of Heau'ns beauty Earth may take a view Though famous women elder times haue knowne Whose glorious actions did appeare so bright That powrefull men by them were ouerthrowne And all their armies ouercome in fight The Scythian women by their powre alone Put king Darius vnto shamefull flight All Asia yeelded to their conq'ring hand Great Alexander could not their powre withstand Whose worth though writ in lines of blood and fire Is not to be compared vnto thine Their powre was small to ouercome Desire Or to direct their wayes by Virtues line Were they aliue they would thy Life admire And vnto thee their honours would resigne For thou a greater conquest do'st obtaine Than they who haue so many thousands slaine Wise Deborah that judged Israel Nor valiant Iudeth cannot equall thee Vnto the first God did his will reueale And gaue her powre to set his people free Yea Iudeth had the powre likewise to queale Proud Holifernes that the just might see What small defence vaine pride and greatnesse hath Against the weapons of Gods word and faith But thou farre greater warre do'st still maintaine Against that many headed monster Sinne Whose mortall sting hath many thousand slaine And euery day fresh combates doe begin Yet cannot all his venome lay one staine Vpon thy Soule thou do'st the conquest winne Though all the world he daily doth deuoure Yet ouer thee he neuer could get powre For that one worthy deed by Deb'rah done Thou hast performed many in thy time For that one Conquest that faire Iudeth wonne By which shee did the steps of honour clime Thou hast the Conquest of all Conquests wonne When to thy Conscience Hell can lay no crime For that one head that Iudeth bare away Thou tak'st from Sinne a hundred heads a day Though virtuous Hester fasted three dayes space And spent her time in prayers all that while That by Gods powre shee might obtaine such grace That shee and hers might not become a spoyle To wicked Hamon in whose crabbed face Was seene the map of malice enuie guile Her glorious garments though shee put apart So to present a pure and single heart To God in sack-cloth ashes and with teares Yet must faire Hester needs giue place to thee Who hath continu'd dayes weekes months and yeares In Gods true seruice yet thy heart beeing free From doubt of death or any other feares Fasting from sinne thou pray'st thine eyes may see Him that hath full possession of thine heart From whose sweet loue thy Soule can neuer part His Loue not Feare makes thee to fast and pray No kinsmans counsell needs thee to aduise The sack-cloth thou do'st weare both night and day Is worldly troubles which thy rest denies The ashes are the Vanities that play Ouer thy head and steale before thine eyes Which thou shak'st off when mourning time is past That royall roabes thou may'st put on at last Ioachims wife that faire and constant Dame Who rather chose a cruel death to die Than yeeld to those two Elders voide of shame When both at once her chastitie did trie Whose Innocencie bare away the blame Vntill th' Almighty Lord had heard her crie And rais'd the spirit of a Child to speake Making the powrefull judged of the weake Although her virtue doe deserue to be Writ by that hand that neuer purchas'd blame In holy Writ where all the world may see Her perfit life and euer honoured name Yet was she not to be compar'd to thee Whose many virtues doe increase thy fame For shee oppos'd against old doting Lust Who with lifes danger she did feare to trust But your chafte breast guarded with strength of mind Hates the imbracements of vnchaste desires You louing God liue in your selfe confind From vnpure Loue your purest thoughts retires Your perfit sight could neuer be so blind To entertaine the old or yong desires Of idle Louers which the world presents Whose base abuses worthy minds preuents Euen as the constant Lawrell alwayes greene No parching heate of Summer can deface Nor pinching Winter euer yet was seene Whose nipping frosts could wither or disgrace So you deere Ladie still remaine as Queene Subduing all affections that are base Vnalterable by the change of times Not following but lamenting others crimes No feare of Death or dread of open shame Hinders your perfect heart to giue consent Nor loathsome age whom Time could neuer tame From ill designes whereto their youth was bent But loue of God care to preserue your fame And spend that pretious time that God hath sent In all good exercises of the minde Whereto your noble nature is inclin'd That Ethyopian Queene did gaine great fame Who from the Southerne world did come to see Great Salomon the glory of whose name Had spread it selfe ore all the earth to be So great that all the Princes thither came To be spectators of his royaltie And this faire Queene of Sheba came from farre To reuerence this new appearing starre From th' vtmost part of all the Earth shee came To heare the Wisdom of this worthy King To trie if Wonder did agree with Fame And many faire rich presents did she bring Yea many strange hard questions did shee frame All which were answer'd by this famous King Nothing was hid that in her heart did rest And all to prooue this King so highly blest Here Maiestie with Maiestie did meete Wisdome to Wisdome yeelded true content One Beauty did another Beauty greet Bounty to Bountie neuer could repent Here all distaste is troden vnder feet No losse of time where time was so well spent In virtuous exercises of the minde In which this Queene did much contentment finde Spirits affect where they doe sympathize Wisdom desires Wisdome to embrace Virtue couets her like and doth deuize How she her friends may entertaine with grace Beauty sometime is pleas'd to feed her eyes With viewing Beautie in anothers face Both good and bad in this point doe agree That each desireth with his like to be And this Desire did worke a strange effect To drawe a Queene forth of her natiue Land Not yeelding to the nicenesse and respect Of woman-kind shee past both sea and land All feare of dangers shee did quite neglect Onely to see to heare and vnderstand That beauty wisedome maiestie and glorie That in her heart imprest his perfect storie Yet this faire map of maiestie and might Was but a figure of thy deerest Loue Borne t' expresse that true and heauenly light That doth all other joyes imperfect proue If this faire Earthly starre did shine so bright What doth that glorious Sonne that is aboue Who weares th' imperiall crowne of heauen and earth And made all Christians blessed in his berth If that small sparke could yeeld so great a fire As to inflame the hearts of many Kings To come to see to heare and to admire His wisdome tending but to worldly things Then much more reason haue we to desire That heau'nly
wisedome which saluation brings The Sonne of righteousnesse that giues true joyes When all they sought for were but Earthly toyes No trauels ought th' affected soule to shunne That this faire heauenly Light desires to see This King of kings to whom we all should runne To view his Glory and his Majestie He without whom we all had beene vndone He that from Sinne and Death hath set vs free And ouercome Satan the world and finne That by his merits we those joyes might winne Prepar'd by him whose euerlasting throne Is plac'd in heauen aboue the starrie skies Where he that sate was like the Iasper stone Who rightly knowes him shall be truely wise A Rainebow round about his glorious throne Nay more those winged beasts so full of eies That neuer cease to glorifie his Name Who was and will be and is now the same This is that great almightie Lord that made Both heauen and earth and liues for euermore By him the worlds foundation first was laid He fram'd the things that neuer were before The Sea within his bounds by him is staid He judgeth all alike both rich and poore All might all majestie all loue all lawe Remaines in him that keepes all worlds in awe From his eternall throne the lightning came Thundrings and Voyces did from thence proceede And all the creatures glorifi'd his name In heauen in earth and seas they all agreed When loe that spotlesse Lambe so voyd of blame That for vs di'd whose sinnes did make him bleed That true Physition that so many heales Opened the Booke and did vndoe the Seales He onely worthy to vndoe the Booke Of our charg'd soules full of iniquitie Where with the eyes of mercy he doth looke Vpon our weakenesse and infirmitie This is that corner stone that was forsooke Who leaues it trusts but to vncertaintie This is Gods Sonne in whom he is well pleased His deere beloued that his wrath appeased He that had powre to open all the Seales And summon vp our sinnes of blood and wrong He vnto whom the righteous soules appeales That haue bin martyrd and doe thinke it long To whom in mercie he his will reueales That they should rest a little in their wrong Vntill their fellow seruants should be killed Euen as they were and that they were fulfilled To the Laâ—â— dowager of Cumberland ¶ Pure thoughted Lady blessed be thy choyce Of this Almightie euerlasting King In thee his Saints and Angels doe reioyce And to their Heau'nly Lord doe daily sing Thy perfect praises in their lowdest voyce And all their harpes and golden vials bring Full of sweet odours euen thy-holy prayers Vnto that spotlesse Lambe that all repaires Of whom that Heathen Queene obtain'd such grace By honouring but the shadow of his Loue That great Iudiciall day to haue a place Condemning those that doe vnfaithfull proue Among the haplesse happie is her case That her deere Sauiour spake for her behoue And that her memorable Act should be Writ by the hand of true Eternitie Yet this rare Phoenix of that worne-out age This great maiesticke Queene comes short of thee Who to an earthly Prince did then ingage Her hearts desires her loue her libertie Acting her glorious part vpon a Stage Of weaknesse frailtie and infirmity Giuing all honour to a Creature due To her Creator whom shee neuer knew But loe a greater thou hast sought and found Than Salomon in all his royaltie And vnto him thy faith most firmely bound To serue and honour him continually That glorious God whose terror doth confound All sinfull workers of iniquitie Him hast thou truely serued all thy life And for his loue liu'd with the world at strife To this great Lord thou onely art affected Yet came he not in pompe or royaltie But in an humble habit base deiected A King a God clad in mortalitie He hath thy loue thou art by him directed His perfect path was faire humilitie Who being Monarke of heau'n earth and seas Indur'd all wrongs yet no man did displease Then how much more art thou to be commended That seek'st thy loue in lowly shepheards weed A seeming Trades-mans sonne of none attended Saue of a few in pouertie and need Poore Fishermen that on his loue attended His loue that makes so many thousands bleed Thus did he come to trie our faiths the more Possessing worlds yet seeming extreame poore The Pilgrimes trauels and the Shepheards cares He tooke vpon him to enlarge our soules What pride hath lost humilitie repaires For by his glorious death he vs inroules In deepe Characters writ with blood and teares Vpon those blessed Euerlasting scroules His hands his feete his body and his face Whence freely flow'd the riuers of his grace Sweet holy riuers pure celestiall springs Proceeding from the fountaine of our life Swift sugred currents that saluation brings Cleare christall streames purging all sinne and strife Faire floods where souls do bathe their snow-white wings Before they flie to true etern all life Sweet Nectar and Ambrosia food of Saints Which whoso tasteth neuer after faints This hony dropping dew of holy loue Sweet milke wherewith we weaklings are restored Who drinkes thereof a world can neuer moue All earthly pleasures are of them abhorred This loue made Martyrs many deaths to proue To taste his sweetnesse whom they so adored Sweetnesse that makes our flesh a burthen to vs Knowing it serues but onely to vndoe vs. His sweetnesse sweet'ned all the sowre of death To faithfull Stephen his appointed Saint Who by the riuer stones did loose his breath When paines nor terrors could not make him faint So was this blessed Martyr turn'd to earth To glorifie his soule by deaths attaint This holy Saint was humbled and cast downe To winne in heauen an euerlasting crowne Whose face repleat with Maiestie and Sweetnesse Did as an Angel vnto them appeare That sate in Counsell hearing his discreetnesse Seeing no change or any signe of a feare But with a constant browe did there confesse Christs high deserts which were to him so deare Yea when these Tyrants stormes did most oppresse Christ did appeare to make his griefe the lesse For beeing filled with the holy Ghost Vp vnto Heau'n he look'd with stedfast eies Where God appeared with his heauenly hoste In glory to this Saint before he dies Although he could no Earthly pleasures boast At Gods right hand sweet IESVS he espies Bids them behold Heauens open he doth see The Sonne of Man at Gods right hand to be Whose sweetnesse sweet'ned that short sowre of Life Making all bitternesse delight his taste Yeelding sweet quietnesse in bitter strife And most contentment when he di'd disgrac'd Heaping vp joyes where sorrows were most rife Such sweetnesse could not choose but be imbrac'd The food of Soules the Spirits onely treasure The Paradise of our celestiall pleasure This Lambe of God who di'd and was aliue Presenting vs the bread of life Eternall His bruised body powrefull to reuiue Our sinking soules out of the pit infernall
For by this blessed food he did contriue A worke of grace by this his gift externall With heau'nly Manna food of his elected To feed their soules of whom he is respected This wheate of Heauen the blessed Angells bread Wherewith he feedes his deere adopted Heires Sweet foode of life that doth reuiue the dead And from the liuing takes away all cares To taste this sweet Saint Laurence did not dread The broyling gridyorne cool'd with holy teares Yeelding his naked body to the fire To taste this sweetnesse such was his desire Nay what great sweetnesse did th'Apostles taste Condemn'd by Counsell when they did returne Rejoycing that for him they di'd disgrac'd Whose sweetnes made their hearts and soules so burne With holy zeale and loue most pure and chaste For him they sought from whome they might not turne Whose loue made Andrew goe most joyfully Vnto the Crosse on which he meant to die The Princes of th'Apostles were so filled With the delicious sweetnes of his grace That willingly they yeelded to be killed Receiuing deaths that were most vile and base For his name sake that all might be fulfilled They with great joy all torments did imbrace The vgli'st face that Death could euer yeeld Could neuer feare these Champions from the field They still continued in their glorious fight Against the enemies of flesh and blood And in Gods law did set their whole delight Suppressing euill and erecting good Not sparing Kings in what they did not right Their noble Actes they seal'd with deerest blood One chose the Gallowes that vnseemely death The other by the Sword did loose his breath His Head did pay the dearest rate of sin Yeelding it joyfully vnto the Sword To be cut off as he had neuer bin For speaking truth according to Gods word Telling king Herod of incestuous sin That hatefull crime of God and man abhorr'd His brothers wife that prowd licentious Dame Cut off his Head to take away his shame Loe Madame heere you take a view of those Whose worthy steps you doe desire to tread Deckt in those colours which our Sauiour chose Colours of Confessors Martirs The purest colours both of White and Red Their freshest beauties would I faine disclose By which our Sauiour most was honoured But my weake Muse desireth now to rest Folding vp all their Beauties in your breast Whose excellence hath rais'd my sprites to write Of what my thoughts could hardly apprehend Your rarest Virtues did my soule delight Great Ladie of my heart I must commend You that appeare so faire in all mens fight On your Deserts my Muses doe attend You are the Articke Starre that guides my hand All what I am I rest at your command FINIS The Description of Cooke-ham FArewell sweet Cooke-ham where I first obtain'd Grace from that Grace where perfit Grace remain'd And where the Muses gaue their full consent I should haue powre the virtuous to content Where princely Palace will'd me to indite The sacred Storie of the Soules delight Farewell sweet Place where Virtue then did rest And all delights did harbour in her breast Neuer shall my sad eies againe behold Those pleasures which my thoughts did then vnfold Yet you great Lady Mistris of that Place From whose desires did spring this worke of Grace Vouchsafe to thinke vpon those pleasures past As fleeting worldly Ioyes that could not last Or as dimme shadowes of celestiall pleasures Which are desir'd aboue all earthly treasures Oh how me thought against you thither came Each part did seeme some new delight to frame The House receiu'd all ornaments to grace it And would indure no foulenesse to deface it The Walkes put on their summer Liueries And all things else did hold like similies The Trees with leaues with fruits with flowers clad Embrac'd each other seeming to be glad Turning themselues to beauteous Canopies To shade the bright Sunne from your brighter eies The cristall Streames with siluer spangles graced While by the glorious Sunne they were embraced The little Birds in chirping notes did sing To entertaine both You and that sweet Spring And Philomela with her sundry layes Both You and that delightfull Place did praise Oh how me thought each plant each floure each tree Set forth their beauties then to welcome thee The very Hills right humbly did descend When you to tread vpon them did intend And as you set your feete they still did rise Glad that they could receiue so rich a prise The gentle Windes did take delight to bee Among those woods that were so grac'd by thee And in sad murmure vtterd pleasing sound That Pleasure in that place might more abound The swelling Bankes deliuer'd all their pride When such a Phoenix once they had espide Each Arbor Banke each Seate each stately Tree Thought themselues honor'd in supporting thee The pretty Birds would oft come to attend thee Yet flie away for feare they should offend thee The little creatures in the Burrough by Would come abroad to sport them in your eye Yet fearefull of the Bowe in your faire Hand Would runne away when you did make a stand Now let me come vnto that stately Tree Wherein such goodly Prospects you did see That Oake that did in height his fellowes passe As much as lofty trees low growing grasse Much like a comely Cedar streight and tall Whose beauteous stature farre exceeded all How often did you visite this faire tree Which seeming joyfull in receiuing thee Would like a Palme tree spread his armes abroad Desirous that you there should make abode Whose faire greene leaues much like a comely vaile Defended Phebus when he would assaile Whose pleasing boughes did yeeld a coole fresh ayre Ioying his happinesse when you were there Where beeing seated you might plainely see Hills vales and woods as if on bended knee They had appeard your honour to salute Or to preferre some strange vnlook'd for sute All interlac'd with brookes and christall springs A Prospect fit to please the eyes of Kings And thirteene shires appear'd all in your sight Europe could not affoard much more delight What was there then but gaue you all content While you the time in meditation spent Of their Creators powre which there you saw In all his Creatures held a perfit Law And in their beauties did you plaine descrie His beauty wisdome grace loue maiestie In these sweet woods how often did you walke With Christ and his Apostles there to talke Placing his holy Writ in some faire tree To meditate what you therein did see With Moyses you did mount his holy Hill To know his pleasure and performe his Will With louely Dauid you did often sing His holy Hymnes to Heauens Eternall King And in sweet musicke did your soule delight To sound his prayses morning noone and night With blessed Ioseph you did often feed Your pined brethren when they stood in need And that sweet Lady sprung from Cliffords race Of noble Bedfords blood faire steame of Grace To honourable Dorset now