Hope at thee doth graspe Fasten their fingers giue them strength to hold As Ancors sure in roughest Tempests would Kind Lord sole comfort hope of each poore wretch With Eyes conuerting Peter looke on me Those glittring Sunnes their beames of comfort stretch To cursed'st sinners if they contrite be Then let those sacred Sun-beames gild with grace My blacke dispairing Soule and rue her case The longing of the Soule to be with God SOule-searching Lord and sole selfe-searching God Let my poore Soule thy vnknowne sweetnesse know Thy staying Staffe sin-correcting Rod On me on me sweet Loue in loue bestow Strength of my weaknes my great weaknes strength guide thou my Goings stay my stumbling feete My stumbling feet establish Lord at length in pathes that are as pure as sure and sweet Eye of mine Eye let my dimme Eye behold thee Dim'd with the hellish mist of damn'd desires Ioy of my heart ô let my heart iâ—fold thee and take my Spirit that still to thee aspires O Beauties Beautie wound my heart with Loue Life of my life let my life liue in thee In thee I haue my being liue and moue Of me but thou then who should mouer be Celestiall Bridegroome kisse thy Spouse my Soule With kisses sweet of vnconceiued peace On thy transpierced palme her name enrowle With thy sinne-purging bloud my sinnes release Mellefluous Sweetnesse sweetning sweetest sweets Sweeten my Sowre sowre Leauen of offence Season my fleshes Lump with matter meete For Sacrifice sweete smelling to thy sense O Goodnesse let me Badnesse thee embrace With hold-fast armes of euer-lasting loue O Well of Life in this dry barren place Quench thou my thirst for thee which here I proue Be thou to me a plague preuenting Towre When plaguesâ—ngirt â—ngirt my Soule with fierce assault My forcelesse force then strengthen with thy power that if o'er-borne yet not through my Wils fault Doe ope the entries of my deafned Eares Deafe with the dinne of words breath'd by despair O thundring Voyce that Hel from Heauen heares Breake through the bars that let thy words repaire O let the deepes in dreadfull harmonie Their Billowes tune vnto that awfull voyce Let Heauen and Earth in ioynt conspiracie with it accord to drownd Sinnes hellish noyse Turn thou mine Eies with fearful Lightnings flash From Eye-bewitching Obiects of offence Deaden my flesh my bones to ponder dash That dead to Sinne may quicke in thee haue sense Encrease thy Streames lay ope the water-springs That Earths foundations proplesse may appeare My earthly thoughts all soild with earthly things Thy troubles streames through mercy straind will cleare O light vnseene enlightning all that see Lighten mine eyes that they may see thy light That light that with no darknesse can agree O light of lights present that to my sight Sauour of life giue new life to my smell That on the sent of thy diuine perfumes I may runne after thee through Heauen and Hell Through comfort or throgh care that life consumes O touch my sensuall ill-affected Taste With finger of thy sweet life-giuing Loue That it may proue the sweetnesse which thou hast Which may thy sweetnesse to my soule approue Giue me a Minde to minde thee Heart to loue thee Soule to adore thee Spirit to discerne thee A Reas'n that may in reason most approue thee And Reason most for that doth most concerne thee O liuely Sweet ô sweet Life-giuing Life O let my Loue in thy Loues life be bounded The life of loue portcullized from strife which liuely life with louely loue 's surrounded O life my life life without which I die O laborinth of life ô maze of loue Where shall I finde thee sweet loue when shall I my loue to loue and life to life remoue O where art thou thou great all-mouing mouer Can clouds encompasse thy vncompast Greatnes Thou endlesse life vnlimitable louer No no sweet loue then show to me thy sweetnes Be neere me in my heart my minde my mouth Neere in my hearing and each other sense Neere in mine age and neere me in my youth neere in mine end to end without offence Through ardent loue I pine away for thee For want of thee deare sweet my Soule is sad Then longd-for louely loue appeare to me And with thy glorious presence make me glad Thy sense-refreshing sent my Spirit reuiues To minde thee 's Nectar to my thirstie Soule Thy Inspiration Consolation giues Such consolations as all cares controule But yet ô yet euen as the chased Hart For water thirsts so thirsts my Soule for thee For thee sweet loue for my soules soule thou art Without which soule can my soule liuing be O when shall I deare Lord vnworthy I Appeare in thy pure Palace Christiline My mounting Spirit wing'd with Desire doth flye Aboue it selfe to see that Court of thine Ioy of my soule when when aye me ô when Shall I with eyes immortall see thy glory Alas I liue a dying life till then Till when my longing soule can be but sory O why turnst thou my Ioy my hearts desire Thy Sunne-ecclipsing glorious face from me Where art thou hid Earth Water Aire or Fire Cannot containe the smallest glimpse of thee Then where art hid ô changelesse fairest Faire For whom my rauisht soule in loue doth languish The smell of whom lifes ruines doth repaire Though life assailed be with mortall anguish But ah aye me I see I see thee not And that I cannot kils my louing heart Yet when I heare thy voyce I haue forgot What me annoid and ioy suppresseth smart But why ah why from me hid'st thou thy face Perhaps thou â—aist Man cannot liuing see it Bee 't so sweet Lord I faine would death embrace To see the same so be it ô so be it Here let me dye that I may see thee There There where my Soule so much desires to see it That life as death I hold that holds me here Then let me dye so be it ô so be it Faine would my Soule this fardle of my Flesh Lay downe at gastly Deaths vnfleshy feet That being consum'd I may resume afresh â—mmortall flesh for thy pure presence meet O Christ my Iesus take my spirit to thee My spirit aspiring clogg'd with fleshes waight It 's jaild too long it longs let loose to be And euery moment for release doth waite My Ioy draw thou my heart that ioyes in nought but in thy ioy sole ioy of blissefull hearts To thy true ioy whose griess such blisse hath bought which blisse my griefs with ioy to blisse conuerts Enter into me Sweetnesse make me sweet Sweet Ioy possesse me make me sad reioyce Eternall light shine on me make me meet To see and know and loue thee as my Choise The cause I loue not is I know thee not I know thee not in not perceiuing thee I not perceiue for darknesse light doth blot Light shines in darkenesse yet It cannot see Who sees thee knows who knows thee stil doth loue thee Who sees
knows loues thee loues his soule To see to know to loue thee grace must moue me For flesh doth fancie by-pathes filthy foule Who knowes thee shall of force himselfe forget Who loues thee as his life his life will loath Yea lose his life that he his life may get Immortall making Soule and Body both But I alas accursed that I am For externe ioy from interne blisse doth range My fairest sollace is my foulest shame My sense betraid the best for worst doth change Here-hence it is I like not that thou lou'st I wretch loue outward but thou inward Ioy I fleshly pleasures spirituall thou approu'st I abiect things which things thee most annoy Thou art in Heauen and I in Earth doe dwell Nay Heau'n of Heau'ns is thine abiding place But I in Earth as low as lowest Hell Remaine and ioy in paine in senselesse case Thou light I darke thou good I passing bad Thou Ioy I griefe thou loue I lump of hate Thou wise I fond thou meeke with pride I mad Thou rich most rich and I in staruing state Then how deare Lord should so great difference Be reconcil'd and linckt in vnitie Ah here 's my feare here 's all my diffidâ—nce Then help ô help help holy Trinitie In that all-doing powerfull power of thine Mend mine amisse and me to Thee combine The Complaint of a Sinner IN the vexation of an humbled Spirit Deuoured in the depth of wretched State With feare and trembling I approch thy fight As one deare Lord as poore as desolate Neare to thy mercies flouds my selfe I set Vpon the Banckes of thy rich Graces streames That my dry Soule may so therewith be wet Before the Sunne of Iustice scorching Beames Lo I a masse of rude vnformed Clay Present my selfe to thine All-making skill To doe all my deformities away And to informe my Wit reforme my Will Great is my boldnesse so to tempt thy Grace With such presumption but deare Lord let me Make bold thy loue still tendred to embrace Lest strange to It I might be strange to Thee Yet when I waigh mine owne vnworthinesse Together with thy Loues high dignitie I am too bold with It I doe confesse To entertaine It to such misery I am too vile to loue or to be lou'd Of thee deare Lord the life of dearest Loue Yet by thy Loue to loue I still am mou'd Though I thy loue to hate doe euer moue Thou dost command giue what coÌ„mand thou dost Then what thou wilt command It shall be done That I should loue beyond mine vttermost As thou dost loue beyond comparison In Loue thou mad'st me onely but to loue And me re-mad'st in loue to loue alone Thou threatnest me if I vnlouing proue And wouldst that we though two shold be as One. Yea for my loue thou ceaselesse so dost woo me That seeing me in loue quite dull and dead Thou giuest me Thee that I should giue me to thee In forme of Flesh as thou in forme of Bread Lord what am I that thou shouldst woo me so And seeke t' inflame my loue with thy Loues heat What am I to Thee but a world of woe A little World of Sinne past measure great A Crosse of Crosses for so crosse I am That eu'ry thing I doe is quite a thwart And that which is most crosse I blesse the same As that which most agrees with my curst-curst-heart And what art thou to me but peace and rest Saluation Ioy and whatsoe'er is good By whom I most accursed most am blest Who mad'st me blamelesse in thy blessed bloud Then of such pledges of thy Loue possest And that but loue alone thy loue doth craue O giue me that which thy loue doth request And I will giue thee what thy Loue would haue Ill I can giue Thee that is onely mine But Good I haue from Thee thy gift it is If thou wilt none of mine then giue me thine Take that from me deare Lord and giue me this Thou art not pleas'd but with what 's onely thine Yet I am thine and yet not pleas'd thou art If thou haue nought with me but what is mine Although I gaue to thee me dearest heart For as it is my Heart it 's most vncleane And all vncleannesse thou dost most detest Then thou art both the cause effect and meane That thou dost loue it as thine interest Yet as mine owne I haue what haue I not with it that is not absolutely good My Christ but ah alas I haue forgot Thou gau'st him first bought'st me with his bloud But yet that 's all I haue that 's all in all To giue thee as goods common vs betwixt To me Hee came from Thee to thee Hee shall For me in passion with my passions mixt If mine be such as make his much the more They his are much more meritorious And yet if Mine be couer'd with his gore Then will deserue thy loue and fasten vs Then take him Lord I haue none other shift To show my Loue but with thine onely Gift The thirst of the Soule after God the Fountaine of Life MIne heau'nly Head giue me thy Member grace Thee to desire desiring thee to secke Seeking to finde finding to loue thy face And louing lothe what is thee most vnlike To my Heart Faith to mine Eyes flouds of teares To my Soule griefe to that griefe ioy of Spirit To my Faith Hope to my Hope Loue and Feare And vnto all giue all direction right O Loue essentiall increated Loue Loue infinite the Fount of Loue and Grace With pow'r o'erflowing all the powers aboue Or whatsoeuer is in blessed case How can I choose but loue thee how can I But with such flaming Loue be fired quite That fires the whole Worlds Vniuersitie Yea well-nigh burnes melts the same out-right O God! thou art the most abstracted GOOD Which yet abstracted art much more abstract Which is Loues Obiect and Lifes liuelihood Which doth my Loue to Loue in Loue coact How can I choose but flame so set on fire With loue which burns what ere in loue was made What but that Loue can quench my Loues desire Or me to Loue so pow'rfully perswade And if I cannot loue Thee for thy Loue Nor for thy goodnesse being more then GOOD Yet me thereto should Profit more then moue For of all Good th' art the boundlesse floud Youth loues the Eld from whom it Being drawes The Members loue the Head by whom they liue And all Effects by nature loue their Cause Sith It to those Effects doth Essence giue Then sith thou art my Cause my Head my Sirâ— Looke what Those owe to These by whom they be Nay more for thou art all in all intire That LORD and more then That I owe to Thee Thou gau'st me Being ere my Sire it gaue For with Thee was I ere I was of Thee And now preseru'st the Being which I haue Better then by the Head the Members be Thou dost effect what in me wanting is
The MVSES Sacrifice TO THE MOST NOBLE and no lesse deseruedly-renowned Ladyes as well Darlings as Patronesses of the Muses LVCY Countesse of Bedford MARY Countesse-Dowager of Pembrooke and ELIZABETH Lady Cary Wife of Sr. Henry Cary Glories of Women THE Muses sacrifice I consecrate They vnto Heau'n I to you heau'nly THREE They my poore Heart I my Loues rich Estate together with my Rimes that rarer be But what can be more rare than richest Loue sith so rich Loue is now so rarely found Yes measur'd-words that out of measure moue the Soule to Heau'n from Hel that 's most profound A vexed Soule for Follies that betray the Soule to Death some call the nether Hell Thence moue my Measures and doe make such way that they all Lets to giue way doe compell These Rarities which my poore Soule confines her treble Zeale to you three Graces brings For Grace as glorious as the Sunne that shines as bright as chearefull on inferiour Things Such Grace you haue by Vertue and by Fate as makes you Three the Glory of these Times The MVSES Darlings and their Chaires of STATE Shapers and Soules of all Soule-charming Rimes BEDFORD the beaming-glory of thy HOVSE that makes it Heau'n on Earth thy Worths are such As all our WITS make most miraculous because thy WIT and WORTH doe worke so much For WIT and SP'RIT in Beauties Liuery doe still attend thine all-commanding EYES And in th' Achiuements of thine Ingenie the glosse thereof like Orr on Sable lies The Wombe that bare thee made thy noble Breast abound with Bountie yer thou knew'st thy Fate Where furnisht was that Bountie with the best of Honors Humors giuing Her the Mate For which all Poets Plowes their Pennes doe plow the fertil'st Grounds of ART and in the same Thy still-increasing Praises thicke doe sow to yeeld Aeternitie thy Crop of Fame PEMBROKE a Paragon of Princely PARTS and of that Part that most commends the Muse Great Mistresse of her Greatnesse and the ARTS Phoebus and Fate makes great and glorious A Worke of Art and Grace from Head and Heart that makes a Worke of Wonder thou hast done Where Art seemes Nature Nature seemeth Art and Grace in both makes all out-shine the Sunne So sweet a Descant on so sacred Ground no Time shall cease to sing to Heau'nly Lyres For when the Spheares shall cease their gyring sound the Angels then shall chaunt it in their Quires No Time can vaunt that ere it did produce from femine Perfections so sweet Straines As still shall serue for Men and Angels vse then both past Time shall sing thy Praise Paines My Hand once sought that glorious WORKE to grace and writ in Gold what thou in Incke hadst writ But Gold and highest Art are both too base to Character the glory of thy Wit And didst thou thirst for Fame as all Men doe thou would'st by all meanes let it come to light But though thou cloud it as doth Enuy too yet through both Clouds it shines it is so bright Where bright DESERT fore-goes a spurre is Praise to make it runne to all that glorifies Of such Desert iâ— ought eclipse the Rayes it euer shames FAMES publicke Notaries CARY of whom Minerua stands in feare lest she from her should get ARTS Regencie Of ART so moues the great-all-mouing Spheare that eu'ry Orbe of Science moues thereby Thou mak'st Melpomen proud and my Heart great of such a Pâ—pill who in Buskin fine With Feete of State dost make thy Muse to mete the Scenes of Syracuse and Palestine Art Language yea abstruse and holy Tongues thy Wit and Grace acquir'd thy Fame to raise And still to fill thine owne and others Songs thine with thy Parts and others with thy praise Such neruy Limbes of Art and Straines of Wit Times past ne'er knew the weaker Sexe to haue And Times to come will hardly credit it if thus thou giue thy Workes both Birth and Graue Yee Heau'nly Trinary that swayes the State of ARTS whole Monarchie and WITS Empire Liue long your Likes vnlike to animate for all Times light to blow at your Arts Fire For Time now swels as with some poysonous Weede with Paper-Quelkchose neuer smelt in Scholes So made for Follies Excesse for they feede but fatten not if fatten t is but Fooles What strange Chimeâ—aes Wit nay Folly frames in these much stranger Times weake Wits t' affright Besides themselues for Wits Celestiall Flames now spend much Oyle yet lend but little Light And what they lend is oft as false as small so to small purpose they great Paines doe take But to be scorn'd or curst or loth'd of all that by their false-light foulely doe mistake For to giue Light that leads light Men awry is Light that leades to Darknesse then such Light Were better out than still be in the Eye of Men that so doe lightly runne from RIGHT For while such Light doth shine the Multitude like Moates in Sunne with their Confusion plaies Not weighing o'er their Heads how Errors Cloud the while doth threat t'o'er-whelme them many waies By pouring downe the Haile of hard Conceits gainst God and Goodnesse that doe batter both Or else by saddest Showres of darke Deceits borne as the fickle Winde of Fancy blowth By Lightning that doth still more hurt than good while Errors Thunder-claps make sowre the sweet Yea sweetest drinke of Nature our best Bloud that doth with Melancholy-madnesse meet By all that may at least giue some offence to complete Vertue Wisedome Wit and Art For Ignorance hath oft more Insolence than puffing Knowledge to take Errors part Disease of Times of Mindes Men Arts and Fame vaine Selfe-conceit how dost thou ply the Presse Of People and the Printer with thy shame clad in the Coate of Fustian-foolishnesse For all that but pretend t' haue Art or Wit so trauell with Conceit amisse conceiu'd That till the Presse deliuer them of It their Throwes are such as make them Wit-bereau'd Yet if the Issue of their crazed Braines doe chance though monstrously to comâ— to light Lord how they hugge it like the Ape that straines her young so hard in loue as kils it quite What Piles of Pamphlets and more wordy Bookes now farse the World wherein if Wisdome lookâ— She shall see nothing worthy of her Lookes vnlesse the idle Likenesse of a Booke But WIT 's most wrong'd by priuiledge of Schoole for Learnings Drunkards now so ply the Pot Of Incke I meane Posteritie to foole as shames Wits Name although they touch him not Some that but looke into Diuinitie with their left Eye with their left Hand do write What they obserue to wrong Posteritie that by this Ignis fatuis roame by Night Some search the Corpes of all Philosophie and eu'ry Nerue and Veyne so scrible on That where it should be Truths Anatomie they make it Errors rightest Scheleton Some others on some other Faculties still fondly labour but to be in Print O poore Ambition so their Folly flies abroad the
Had beene with Neroes much but monstrous the Muse alone then well renownes a Name Yet now her Agents are so poore become in Minde and state that for an abiect Fee They 'l honor to their shame but HONORS skum yea Deifie a Diu'll if he be free But strong Necessitie constraines the same as Israels Singer did the Shew-bread eate By like constraint yet they are Lords of FAME and where they charge with it there 's no retreit For though Time-present see it mis-bestow'd yet if Wits Engine it doe rarely raise Of Times to come It shall be so allow'd that both the prais'd and praiser they will praise Yet speake a Language â—ew doe apprehend so few affect it for wee nought affect But what our Vnderstandings comprehend no maruell then the most this Art neglect Nay were 't but so yet Poesie still should finde some grace with some whom Art makes great of vile But now such thinke it but distracts the Minde for broken-Braines such great-Ones Poets stile Vnfit for serious vse vnfit for all that tends to perfect Mans Felicitie Light idle vaine and what we worse may call yea though it were the Skumme of Vanitie And would these Truths were all true Falacies though Poets used to none of these incline For personall faults are not the Faculties that is not onely faultlesse but diuine But t is too true in many that professe the Art though Leaden Lumpes for none can swim In Helicon without that Happinesse which from his Mothers Wombe he brought with him And t is as true if Grace and Gouernment doe not containe the Minde in Raptures high But it of Wit may make so large extent as it may cracke the strongest Ingenie So may it doe in other Mysteries and that which we most praise may most impeach Diuinitie it selfe may soon'st doe this if Grace with-hold not from too high a Reach Then let this Arte which is the Angels speech for to the High'st they speake in nought but Hymnes Which in the Wombe they doe true Poets teach be freed from speech that but her glory dimmes Then let the ignorant-great-highly base reuile her ne'er so much they but bewray Their owne Defects therby and giue but grace to Folly darkned with Arts glorious Raie But no great Spirit whose temper is diuine and dwels in reall GREATNES but adores The Heau'nly MVSE that in Arts Heau'n doth shine like Phoebus lending Light to other Lores To you therefore that Arte predominate great in your Vertue Skill and Fortunes too My Muse held meet'st these Flights to consecrate sith you most grace the Muse in most you doe And as the Sunne doth glorifie each Thing how euer base on which he deignes to smile So your cleare Eyes doe giue resplendishing to all their Obiects be they ne'er so vile Then looke on These and Me with such a Glance That both may shine through your bright Countenance The vnfained louer honorer and admirer of your rare Perfections Iohn Dauies of Hereford The Sacrifices of God are a contrite Spirit A contrite and a broken Heart O God thou wilt not dispise Psal. 51.17 A Broken Heart deare LORD thy Grace respects as Loues best Sacrifice the breake my Heart To make it sound thereby in his Affects and Sinne that wounds It still from It to part How is it Lord that who so seekes thy Face must with the whole-heart seâ—ke the same to see Yet Broken-hearts as soone doe get thy Grace so whole or broken are all One to Thee Then breake my heart to make it whole that so being broken quite and made whole afterward It in thy Kingdome still may currant goe made flat to take thy Print with Pressures hard That though the Fiend abuse thy Forme in mee It through thy Test may currant passe to Thee Another of the same AS in the Sacrifices of the Law there was an Alter Priest Host Fire and Wood So This to That in likenesse neere doth draw and wants but holy Fire to make it good The Alter is my Hope the Host my Heart the Priest my Faith my Loue the Fuâ—ll is All these ô Lord are ready but the Art to fire the Fuell wants then doe thou This. I am but Passiue in this holy Act Thou the sole Agent yet ô make me fiâ— To worke with thee together in this Fact with all the Forces of my Will and Wit And sith deare â—oâ—d all things so ready be Giue Fire to sacrifice my Heart to Thee Another DEscend sweet hallowed Fire from that high FLAME that euer burnes in LOVES eternall Brest consume this Sacrifice and let the rest Licke vp my Teares for Sinne about the same That Mis-beleeuers thereby still may know There is no GOD but he that fir'd it so I am no Prophet Seër Saint nor ought that may expect such Fauour but a Wretch made meeke by Sinne yet Hands of Faith doe stretch To thee whom men prophane doe set at nought If Faith then with thee worke this wondrous Feate They will confesse my God as good as great To ouer-curious Critiques YEe ouer-curious Eyes that nought can please produc'd by Art or Nature ô auert Your All-deprauing-banefull lookes from these pure Flames that sacrifice our dying Heart Here are no Nouels which yee most dâ—sâ—re nor ought vnvsuall but here shall you see What hath beene said of old in new Attire with our Thoughts interlac'd so ours they be The Spider-webbe which in her Wombe is bred we prize no more for that nor estimate Pure Honie lesse for being gathered from many Sweets nay more much more for that What we haue gather'd is from others Flowres And what is added is from sweet'st of ours To the Indifferent Readers TO pray in measur'd Sillables is strange Familiars with peruersenesse may conceiue But PIETIE her selfe allowes this Change and for our Learning doth Example leaue Her Friend sweet Psalmist sung his Soules-Conceits in sacred Numbers and the Heau'ns did Charme With pow'rfull Verse so those commanding Heights he wanne but with his Muses mighty Arme All Christian Churches howsoe'er aâ— ods with Psalmes Hymnes beate Heau'ns resounding Wall Nay more the Pagans sing vnto their Gods and which is most the Angels most oâ— all Then sith both Heau'n aud Earth This still doe vse He shames himselfe that for this blames our Muse. The Author of and to his Muse. MY Muse is tirde with tyring but on Leaues that fruitlesse are yet leaue ill fruits behinde Shee onely workes for Ayre that but deceiues so workes for nothing but deceitfull Winde And what she seiseth as her Subiect is but vaine if it be light and lightly what Shee preyes vpon is such then now on This shee needes to pray for preying so on That O Muse didst thou but know thy natiue kinde being all diuine thou ne'er would'st waue thy wings In that which doth but onely marre the Mind but endlesly about Celestiall Things Th'wilt be deplum'd for pluming so on Trash and like a Flesh-â—lye lighting but on Sores Then
thou art great beyond all quantitie How good art thou thou goodnesse most compleate for thou art great beyond all qualitie Beyond all measure thou art onely wise thou art alone eternall without Time In pow'r almightie with all-seeing Eyes in Iudgement deepe in Counsailes most sublime But what goe I about to bring thee here within the compasse of description Thou art as farre past Compasse as past Peere being immense and infinite alone If Men or Angels could nay more couldst thou by deed or word thine Essence once define Thou art no more thy selfe in deed or show for thou all Bounds dost in thy selfe confine Of Thee therefore no search can notice giue further then that thou art most infinite And that to know is onely to beleeue that so thou art in wisedome grace and might The Sunne Moone Stars with bright beames glorifide in presence of thy glory lose their Light The Cherubins like Bastard Eaglets hide their Eyes that cannot brooke thy glories sight The sturdy Pillers of th' Etheriall Frame do trembling stand when thou but knitst thy brow Yea all the Pow'rs therein sâ—rincke at the same and with those Props with feare and reu'rence bow Whose Voyce doth make the Mountaines melt like whose Check confounds the order of this Allâ— waxe Whose Breath consumes thy foes as fire doth flaxe in few thou art what thou thy selfe canst call Then how dare I vile Clod of base Contempt approch the presence of such Maiesty That is from all impuritie exempt and I a Sincke of all sordiditie To touch the Arke was death and one did dye for touching It being at the point to fall Then woe is me how dare I wretch come nye they sacred selfe that standest staying All The Bethshamites receiu'd a mortall checke for prying on that Arke too curiously And many thousands for it went to wrecke then dare I Worme cling to thy Deity How can thy grace so vile a Vermine brooke much lesse embosome such a lothed Thing That leaues offence behinde but with a looke and like a Viper with a touch doth sting What Concord can there be twixt Contraries can good and euill be incorporate Then how shouldst thou selfe goodnesse me comprise that am selfe euill which thou most dost hate For I haue beene ô Lord I shame to say what in times past I did not shame to doe Who worse then Treas'n it selfe did ah betray God vnto Man and Man to Sathan too There was a Time I was that Franticke Foole that said at least in Heart there is no God But since thy grace my Heart did better schoole I thinke not so by reason of thy Rod. Thy Rod recou'red that my straying thought reducing It into the way of Truth I to my selfe and thee by force was brought and made repent that madnesse of my youth Thanks kindest Rod I kisse thee for thy grace which like a Potion did with Nature striue To conquere that which Nature did disgrace and made me dead in Sinne in grace to liue But Lord how blest and better had I bin if thy smooth Staffe had staid me in the Way For thy rough Rod doth Loue by terror win and Loue is lame that doth by terror stay But yet let terror as loues Harbinger make way to lodge thy Loue within my Heart Which of thy Loue would faine be Harbourer because thou mak'st it faine by force of smart But let thy loue be of my Heart embrac'd meerely for Loue and kept with louing feare Let not my Loue with terror be disgrac'd but let It free from terrors Let appeare O let me loue thee as thou louest mee thou lou'st me for my selfe and thy Loues sake Then for thy selfe alone let me loue thee without respect of what Loue lame doth make I now desire with more then hot desire to be new molt and cast into the Molde Of all perfection by Afflictions fire sith for thy Temple That refines the Golde Lord if thou wilt thou canst then make me cleane Draw me with Cords of Loue made fast by Feare Though my Sinnes measure passe thou hast no meane in mercy then let mercy make me cleare If thou requir'st contrition for my faults with Sinne and Sorrow lo I labour â—ore A iarring Twin each other that assaults within the wombe that breedes them more and more If Satisfaction thou of me require Lo here I offer vp my Flesh to thee To be consumed in Afflictions fire so thou vouchsafe to saue the Soule of me Poure out thy Vengeance Vials all there-on make it like Vapor to euaporate The Humors ill wherewith it 's ouer-gone that Flesh from flesh may so be separate O thou whose Loue enflames all good desires quench thou the thirst of my desire that flames To be consum'd in those thrice sacred fires which mend the formes of mind Spirits frames Giue me thy Loue and throw me into Hell for there thy Loue will pleasure me in paine Yea paines to bring me pleasures will compell and make me Heau'n by Hell so to obtaine This onely Boone I craue by Grace to be armed with Patience most inuincible In all thy fiery Tryals made of me that Sense make brooke them as insensible Which Patience still consociates constant Loue which can endure more then Paine can inflict O then let me that Loue in mercy proue then proue me with all proofes though ne'er so strict Thy will be mine and mine be euer thine giue me no pow'r to will or not to will But as thou wilt and let no will be mine but that which maugre Flesh may thine fulfill Thou know'st what 's best for me then is that best which thou what ere it be for me shalt doe Then let me locke my cares within thy Chest when they too strong wold my weake Chest vndo Be thou the Centre of my Soules desires and let them rest in Thee in all vnrest Be thou the Vnction still to feede those fires till of eternall Light they be possest To which as to the vtmost of their hope Bring thou them Lord that art their vtmost scope Of Lifes breuitie the Fleshes frailtie the Worlds vanitie and the Diuels tyranny THou Eld of Dayes teach me my dayes to count deare Lord mine End learn me mine end to know That of the same I may yeeld rust account These secrets Lord to me in secret show To thinke of long life is in death to liue To think of Death ' s long life which Death doth giue My Time is in thy hands then It display That I may know It so to vse It well A thousand yeeres with thee is scarse a day But they are more with me then Time can tell In twice fiue Ages Time can tell no more Then no Mans time thrice trebl'd tels such store Are not my Dayes few and mine end at hand Whose life is like the shadow of a Dreame What Substance is 't by which such shadowes stand Is 't ought but Nothing in the great'st extreame If lesse then Nothing then
me still from all misse-fortunes and from so daine Death Which in this World that dangers ouer-fill is more then Fortune can to Man bequeath How many haue I seene the Warres to weare might haue seen hāg'd drown'd staru'd burnt torne How many poyson'd spill themselues with feare with Pox Plagues Pestilence how many worne The thousands blinde deafe dumbe lame leperous besides the Millions otherwise distrest In Minde and Body with griefes dolorous make me to see how much my State is blest For that which fell to any one of these might me befall be'ing euill as they be And that I haue more soundnesse ioy and ease it is to winne my loue thy loue to me If any mortall King should for one crime many condemne and saue but one or two And I of those condemnd should be the prime yet first of those two saued should be too How would my Heart be rauish'd with his Loue and how would all my Pow'rs striue him to serue Then no lesse Grace thy grace doth make me proue nay more much more thou dost my loue deserue For double thou deseru'st in treble kinde thou sau'dst my Soule and body doom'd to Death And from all franticke passions keep'st my Minde therefore I owe thee Minde Soule Body Breath For t is thy Grace we be not all consum'd but most of all my selfe that most doth sinne Sith on that Grace I haue to sinne presum'd yet still by grace seek'st me from sinne to win A Body thou hast giu'n me that doth lacke all that thou giu'st me to continue life And lest through want thereof It should to wrack with me those gifts are no lesse rich then rife All things thou mad'st for me and me for Thee for me Ground Graine Trees Fruit Mines Mettall bear Aire Fowle Seas Fish Fish Fowle for me produce most glorious Pearle and Plumes to weare For me Seas Ships Ships Sailes Sailes Winds endure to bring me Benefis from forraine Lands For me Flouds flow Wels spring Springs Water pure doe yeeld that I should yeeld to thy commands Sheepe Oxen Kine Goates Buckes and other Beasts yeeld Flesh Fleece Fels Milke Oile Hornes for me For me the Hound doth cry the Spaniell quests to teach me how to cry with hope to Thee The Hornes of Vnicornes that precious be are mine though they do weare them for my sake Plants Vertue haue not for themselues but me so things of eu'ry suite me Prime doe make What would I more there 's nought hath being got on or in Earth in Water or in Aire That eyther feedes or heales or sports me not so that this World doth nought but me repaire If I the Elementall World transcend to view the Heau'nly Orbes what Wonders There Sunne Moone and Stars I see who all attend but for my good for which they framed were For me alone they influence impart to these inferiour Bodies seruing mine For me doth Time himselfe in pieces part that I beyond Time might be wholy thine Nay let me passe the nine-fold Orbes of Heau'n and to thy sacred Mansion let me flee For whom had all thine Angels essence giu'n But for thy seruice and to waite on me To backe me and defend me from my Foes to hold me vp when ere I did decline To comfort me in Soule-afflicting Woes and to thy presence bring my Soule in fine Now if the Ends for which Things formed were be better then the Things for so they be Then better than the Angels Men appeare sith they it seemes for men were made by Thee And Men and Angels fell through onely Pride but for deare Mans Redemption thou didd'st die Yet for no one of th' Angels hast thou di'd which much augments mans hope and dignitie O then what Heart can once but thought-conceiue in what strict Tearmes I stand obleig'd to thee Sith me thou mad'st most Glory to receiue through mee as through the Eye Men glory see Wake wake thy selfe my Soule why sleep'st thou stil see who it is that hath thus done for whom Not for the Angels which obey his Will but for thee sinfull Soule his choisest Home Cast if thou canst a Number numberlesse and count his gifts with Stars or with Sea-sand The bottome gage of his Grace bottomlesse Or if thou canst not wonder-mazed stand Yet stand thou with and for Him while thou art that is as long as he himselfe exists That is while GOD hath but an humane Heart which is but while Eternitie consists As God is GOD he hath no Heart at all but as true Man he is he hath Mans Heart Then GOD and MAN can ne'er asunder fall though Men from GOD themselues too often part But GOD that hast Mans Heart and so hast mine sith I am Man although a sinfull one Still let thy Heart be mine and mine be thine that I may haue no Heart to grieue our owne I greatly doe desire with great desire to praise and loue thee GOD Mans harts repose But Praise and Loue in Mouth and Heart of mire through foulenes of that filth their grace do lose But sith all Creaetures thou hast made for mee for whatsoe'er is made I owe the same I le call on them with me to call on THEE to giue me grace to loue and praise thy Name Then ô yee all his Workes your voyces reare with man his master-piece that He would grant To me his Grace to sound his praises cleare and to supply in Loue my louings want To make my Mouth pure fit to hold his praise and make my Heart cleane meete to lodge his loue That Heart and mouth may so his glory raise while I his Grace in grace or glory proue That I in Grace and Glory may be knowne To liue but for that praise and loue alone A Meditation gratulatory for our redemption WHen I excogitate the great Good-turnes thou hast done for me ô extreamest Good With heate of Zeale my seathing Marrow burnes and flames of seruent Loue doe boile my bloud Especially for that when thou had'st form'd my Soule and body I deforming each Thou with thine own dierewrack hast me reform'd and with thy precious bloud becam'st my Leach Thou mightst for e'er haue banish'd me thy sight with the proud Angel and his cursed Crue For my fault was like his but more vnright then to the same a greater Plague was due And that thou hast not onely spar'd my Paine but therewithall bought endlesse blisse for me So that my Fall doth fall out to my gaine I am in straightest bonds oblieg'd to Thee And for thou mad'st me me to thee I owe sith thou redeem'd me much more owe I thee And would ô would I could my selfe bestovv to pay that More that 's lesse then due from me And so much more thou ought'st to be belou'd by how much greater were thy griefes and state And how much lesse then ought'st to be reprou'd whose life was more then most immaculate Who What and Wherefore dost thou suffer Lord and who
that should make me loue thee more I made the wrest to rend my loue from thee So both with mine and others gifts did gore the Giuers heart erst split for loue of me And if I made as seldome so I did a Cou'nant with mine Eye that it should gaze No more on Beauty yet the more forbid the more thereby it glanc'd on Beauties Blaze Alas how brutish haue I bin the while that like a Beast haue swayed beene by sense And made my Reason obey Affections vile repugnant to mine owne Intelligence O life dead life depriu'd of life of grace how stirr'st thou so without that vitall pow'r Thou art too proud and yet too beastly base at highest height but like a fading Flowre O Lord of life a death it is to mee to minde my life so drown'd in deadly sinne Which though it Be and moue and liue in Thee yet as without thee it hath cursâ—d bin For I haue made no scruple to offend but with such boldnesse haue I sinn'd as it Had beene a meane but to a blessed end so seem'd to sinne with Will enforc'd by Wit Nay should I bring my best deeds to thy Test they 'le proue but drosse of mâ—eâ—e Hyâ—ocrisie Or Vice in Vertues habit at the best which is too bad for basâ—st Pietie With Iacobs voyce and Esaus hands I held my Soule to sinne and good opinion too The wicked so the World at will doe weild which faine I would but that I cannot doe The World 's t'vnweildy for my feeble gripe it still fals from me sith I cannot hold And at each fall thou giu'st me Lord a stripe sith though I cannot weild it yet I would Yea would much rather then my wilde affects or ought that holy men doe take in hand For my best doings my iust doubt suspects sith they in doubt of doing ill doe stand How tedious Time hath seem'd when I haue praid how wearisome the practise tir'd how soone How much distracted and how well apaid when it was done though done ere well begunne So was I like but one of Pilates Slaues that croucht to thee ô Christ but to offend So my best actions are but holy braues that haue more shew then strength to foile the Feend Haue I done good to any if I haue t' was but of debt and though it were but lent I prizde it more and bragd of what I gaue so all my good was done with ill intent Haue I discours'd of things that heauenly were In curious Questions lightly it was done As where Heau'n stands and Hell it locall where not how to come to Heau'n and Hell to shunne I haue beene prompt to learne what Wisedome would abhorre to teach and I haue Eares and Eyes To heare and see but what she scornes t' vnfold for I attend to nothing that is wise What shall I say that haue so much to say for endlesle plaint holds endlesse Sinne in chase My first was filth my progresse Sinne my stay is double death without Gods treble grace O Sinne the Soules death and of Death the life I would not shunne thee when at first I might And now I cannot without endlesse strife then help me Grace with strong sinne still to fight My Soule is tir'd with vanitie and Sinne I loath to liue and yet I feare to dye Then wretch what should I doe but now beginne to dye to liue sith liuing-death is nye But ah alas could I weepe endlesly it were but meete mine endlesse sinnes to cleare But though I should lament them ceaselesly in longest mortall life too short it were Yet will I not dispaire no God forbid seau'n times a day the iustest men doe fall And though from men the fall and bruise be hid yet thou dost see them both who seest All. At all houres no man's wise for sober Noah may be oe'er-come with Wine stout Abraham too Through terror lye Meeke Moses may destroy th' Egyptian in his ire and so misdo Religious Ioseph irreligiously sweare by the life of Pharaoh faith to binde Gods Darling Dauid hide Adultery with murther of his Seruant true as kinde Wise Salomon the veriest Foole became when Pharos Daughter and his Pagan wiues Through grosse Idolatrie made him defame Gods truth so Blots the clear'st haue in their liues Saints so are call'd as eu'ry thing is nam'd of whatsoe'er therein most worthy is As Golden-mines are stiled so though fram'd more full of Drosse then Golden rarities And so the best men though inherent Vice may ouer-weigh their Vertue yet we see Th' are called vertuous by their Vertues price that doth out-price the Vice though more it be Then giue me courage Lord t' aduance my Hope to thy great mercy that doth equall thee And let All couerd with the Heau'nly Cope for thy deare Loue be but as Doung to mee Vaine pleasures packe Preferments-vaine auaunt that would but make me quite forget to dye My Soule ye Syrens doe no more enchaunt for if you doe I le breake your strongest Tye. And all my ioy shall now but be in griefe griefe for the Ioy which I conceiu'd in sinne So nought but dying shall be my reliefe for life well lost immortall life doth winne Lord giue me strength to offer violence to wicked Custome till I breake it quite And still to striue with Nature Sinne and Sense vntill they striue no more in Peace nor fight And for my Sinnes come all annoyâ—s on me in royall-armies till you blow me vp Aboue the â—unne and all dispights that be fall freâ—ly on me from my Sauiours Cup. Scorne me proud World still looke on me ascance deride me Diuell plague me doe thy worst Nay Lord from me conceale thy Countenance so thou in fine wilt blesse me so accurst And for I haue despis'd thee Lord of All let all that Is despise me till I dye Nay let disgrace with death vpon me fall so I may rise to grace and life thereby O thou my cursed Nature swolne with Pride swell not against contempt though ne'er so vile Take all and more if more can be beside contempt of all and ioy therein the while For being nothing of my selfe but Sinne or else besides that But I Nothing am How can or sinne or Nothing Glory winne but through a World of woe contempt and shame Skill will and pow'r then giue me Lord to breake this head-strong Iade my Flesh and make it glad To beare a World of woe to make it meeke and but for falling vnder it be sad I am thy Workâ— then worke thy Will in mee And make my Carriage Lord from fallingâ—ree â—ree That the vertuous haue the Promises of this life as well as of that to come THy Friends deare Lord are too much honored thy Persecutor to thee reconcil'd Had Sacrifices to him tendered so much the World is forc'd t' adore thy Childe The People freely their possessions sell to lay the Price at thine Apâ—stles feete To whom the worst of Ils doe fall out well and Gall
procures the Fathers loue and grace and so gets glory by such gracelesse scarres So God desirous more to haue vs kinde than comely Children thrusts vs in his Warres As we were but to fire and sword assign'd He takes more pleasure in the great'st annoyes We haue for him then in our ghostly ioyes Each Danger for our Mistresse vnder-tane seemes most secure and pleasant deadli'st paine The Wounds both for from her though but bane seeme honied-sweet and losse for her is gaine The colours that she likes we most doe loue her words meere Oracles her spot no staine Her actions Patternes ours to shape and proue All her perfections past Superlatiues And imperfections least Diminutiues And shall we doe and thinke all this and more but for a shade of Beautie and endure Nothing for Beauties Substance nor adore the CREATOR but in the Creäture O! t is a shame that Reas'n should be so mad in men of minde for loue if it be true Will most affect what 's rarest to be had The Obiect of true Loue is greatest GOOD If lesse she loues it ill is vnderstood With our Soules Eye if Christ our peace be view'd true loue shall see a Soule-afflicting sight His head with bloud that thornes do broach imbrude his Eares with Blasphemies his Eyes with Spight His Mouth with gall his Members all with wounds his Heart with griefe and all in all vnright Yea so vnright as Iustice quite confounds Yet mans Ingratitude doth griue him more Then all these Plagues as manifold as sore And ô for whom doth he the same endure for Man begot in filth in darkenesse form'd With throwes brought forth brought forth most vnpure whose child-hood's but a dreame with pains enorm'd His youth but rage his man-hood ceaselesse fight his Age meere sicknesse all his life vnsure And worst of all his death is full of fright This this is he for whom Heau'ns God endures All shame and paine that paine and shame procures W' are no where safe where we may fall to sinne in Heau'n nor Paradise with men much lesse In Heau'n fell Angels Paradise within the first man fell throgh whom all men transgresse In the World Iudas from his Lord did fall so no place can defend from Wretchednesse But he that place confines and holds vp All For who from worse to better fals he may From better fall to worse without his stay If Crosses trauerse not our Comforts then we ought to crosse our selues as many did That were Men Angel-like or Gods with men who hardly liu'd in Dens and Deserts hid Fed little and slept lesse in Sacke-cloth clad to minde them that to mourne they here were bid So chose foâ—d place and suite as suites the sad To sing in Babilon being Abrahams Seede Is to forget our Bondage and our Creede Heau'n is our natiue Home our Canaan Earth's but the shade of Death or vale of Teares Then mirth in place of moaue but kils a man at point of Death hee 's mad that Musicke neares Therefore those Saints discreete sad â—obâ—r Soules reiected all that Sense to Life endeâ—râ—s And liue as buried quicke in â—aues likâ— Moâ—es Iâ— Weapons lâ—sâ—e doe wâ—und thâ—n sâ—arpeâ—t praise Lesâ—e huâ—ts lamenting then the Syrens â—ayes And as Men longing at Noone-day to see the Lamps of Heau'n descend into a Well As deepe as darke that so their sight may be the more contracted smallest Stars to tell So pious mâ—n that faine would fixe their Eyes still on the Stars the Saints in Heauen that dwell Descend in Earth to low'st Obscurities For to a louing Soule all labour 's sweet That tends although in Hell her Loue to meet Low is our Way but our Home most sublime if home we wouâ—d thâ—n this low Way is best Which yet growes steepe â—omewhere and hard to climbe yet Loue o'ercomes it eternall Rest Vaine pleasures are like Gold throwne in our Way and while to gather it we stoupe at least It let 's vs and our Iudgements doth betray But if on Heau'n our mindes be altogether Nothing shall let our Bodyes going thither Which way goe you saith Christ to those that stray I am the WAY and whither will you wend I am the TRVTH or else where will you stay I am the LIFE that is your Iournyes end Now if this Way doe lead o'er steepes and plaines If this Truth teach vs rising to descend If this Life be not got but with our paines Then wo to them that laugh sith weepe should al And blessed they that weepe for laugh they shall We should be therefore like th' Egytian Dogs that drinke of Nilus running lest they should By staying much to drinke like greedy Hogs the Crocodile might haue them so in hold Nature doth teach them reas'nlesse what to doe then shall not grace worke much more manifold With humane Creatures that diuine are too It should then we are mad or reason lacke to quench our thirst of hauing with our wracke What is 't to haue much more than Nature needes but to haue more then Nature well can beare Like one that 's deadly drunke or ouer-feedes whose excesse makes his Death excessiue cheare Enough then should be better then a feast sith more is mortall howsoeuer deare For Nature cannot well so much digest Much lesse then little onely makes her grutch Enough maintaines her better than too much Besides in vs Sinne is more odious growne then in the Diuell for his was but one sinne Ours numberlesse his yer Reuenge was knowne ours when we knew it and might fauor winne In Innocence created sinned he but we when to 't we had restored bin In malice he of God forsooke but we when GOD recall'd vs to his sauing Grace He damn'd we sau'd yet were in worser Case For we were sau'd in possibilitie but he condemn'd so could not saued be He sinn'd gainst one that him did straitly tye but we worse fâ—ends gainst one that made vs free Against one he that doom'd him second-death but we gainst one that dide for vs so he Sinn'd lesse than we which Hope quite banisheth Did not the time we liue in stirre vs thrals To call for Grace that comes if griefe but cals He that of Sinne doth know the large extent and Hell of Hels the Soule incurres thereby Shall little feele his Bodyes punishment though he in life a thousand dâ—athes should dye Which borne with Patience for his Sauiours loue quite abrogate his pass'd impietie And future sinnes and paines from him doth shoue Immortall paines extreame in qualitie Annihilate all mortals quantitie Our Faith in the beginning thinne was sowne in the afflicti'on shame and death of Christ And then with Martyrs Bloud t' was ouer-flowne nor can it grow or prosper to the high'st Without showres ceaslesse gushing from their wounds then what art thou that soone thy Faith deni'st For feare of death that but thy Iudge confounds O! I am he the frail'st of flesh and bloud That liues for ill and
doth play One dyes with Sicknesse Thought another kils With Hunger this with Thirst that man doth pine Some Water choakes an Halter others spils Some Fire consumes some Beasts deuoure in fine This man he murders with the ruthlesse Sword That man with Poyson he doth suffocate With Bullet this that with a bitter Word He ends and others end with worser Fate No Flesh though fram'd in height of Natures skill With composition more then halfe diuine But it is subiect made to death vntill Th' Immortall doe that mortall flesh refine Thus all he ends yet none their ends fore-know A secret t' is to Death himselfe vnknowne Whom he must strike thy finger Lord must show Nor dares he shoot til thou the Mark hast showne To some he is thy mercies Minister To other some the Engine of thy wrath This sadnesse to my Soule doth minister For bleeding Conscience many faintings hath But wash the same with thy sweet mercies dewe And it annoint with vnction spirituall Then health and rest and peace shall straight ensue Which to my Conscience will be cordiall I haue discourst to thine all-hearing Eares My dismall plight in dolefull Elegie With Tragick accents accents causing teares Sad teares attending matchlesse misery Thy pitties Eare therefore bowe downe O Lord To these most pensiue and most iust complaints Let mercies Eyes with pitties Eares accord To chear the conscience that with bleeding faints In hope were of my soule shall rest in peace Till thou vouchsafe to send her full release A Confession of a Sinner acknowledging the misery of humane frailtie CElestiall Lord Creator of this ALL Embracer Prop and Ruler of the same Whose vnseene Eye beholds the generall And singly seest at once this double Frame O vaile that Christall-cleere all-seeing eye On vtter-darknesse that Lord that am I. Mine Intellect is darke darke my soules sight My body darke darke dungeon of my soule Is opposite for darknesse to thy light What can be darker or more vgly foule Thus darknesse striuing much more darke to be Hell being too light infus'd it selfe in me O Iustice Sunne with Taper pointed beames Dart through this Darknesse open loopes for light By which the influence of thy lights leames Through my darke soule may be dispersed quight For what is that which extreame darknes cleares But extreame light of lights when it appeares Where extreame darknesse harbours there is Hell In me deare Lord of Heauen that hell is plac't My heart hard hart wherein all horrors dwell With vexing thoughts like Fiends away doth wast My Conscience quite confounded with my misse Is lowest Hell where highest Anguish is Descend sweet Christ and harrow with thy Crosse This hell of Conscience flee my soule from thence It is thine owne deare Lord it is thy losse If it doe perish through my sinnes offence Why sinne is nothing then for thing of nought Lose not my soule poore purchase dearly boght In Deaths dark shade o'er-shadowed with my sinne Vpon the black pit brinck of deepe Despaire I lye deare Lord halfe out but more halfe in Help help ô help Lord heare Lord heare my prayer Now now ô now if euer help me now I sincke I sincke help ere I sincke too low Remember Lord Lord call to minde againe The drops strange drops of Water mixt with Bloud Which from thy paine-prest Body ranne amaine What time on ground it lay in pensiue moode If then thou praid'st that Cup might passe froÌ„ thee I well may pray let this Cup passe from mee A Cup of cares confected by sowre sinne Baning my Soule with bitter operation Let this Cup passe before I doe beginne Least it effect my crazed soules damnation O thou that felt'st fraile mans infirmitie Respect fraile Me else in despaire I die Whose Faith too like a feather in the winde Is tossed with the least temptations blast With doubtings daunted when the faithfull finde A calme in conscience till such stormes are past But I vile wretch am tossed to and fro With eu'ry Storme that rise or Blast that blow See Lord ah see see see how all my Veynes Do pant with paine through sense of my misdeedes Behold my Heart wherein all sorrow raignes Griefe-wounded heart behold it how it bleedes O poure therein thy precious Balmes of grace That from thy wounded Heart doe runne apace Where 's Much forgiu'n Loue must there be much Forgiue me Much much more shall be my loueâ— I haue Much to forgiue no sinner such My Sinne surmounting Loue shall be aboue Forgiue me then and I in Loue will striue To match that more then Much thou dost forgiue Be thou for me vnto the Old of dayes My Daysman so to stay his angers heate That for thy sake he would vouchsafe to raise His vengeance siege which my Soules wrack doth threat O tel him to his Grace I weakling yeeld And giue him praise and glory of the Field O pray him bend his pu'sance on the proud Whose brazen Necks will rather breake then bowe I creeping on my knees doe seeke for shrowde Till Tempests of his fury ouer-blow And like a Spaniell at his Maisters threat In humble wise fall prostrate at his feete With eyes vp-lifted slowly by degrees And lifted so are throwne downe straight againe With face confounded on his humbled knees Inuoking mercy yet doth mute remaine O so euen so doe I poore wretched I At foote but of his Foote-stoole crowching lye If this may moue and mouing may prouoke Thy sans-beginning Sire in Loue to stay Of his iust vengeance the resistlesse stroke A touch whereof doth Rockes to poâ—der bray I will ascribe the praise ô Christ to thee Sith for thy sake alone he spareth me My strength 's not stony nor my flesh yet brasse O no then weaknesse much more weake it is Apt still to fall more brittle farre then glasse Compos'd of that that 's more then most amisse O how vnable then am I to beare His heauy vengeance stroke that rocks doth teare With hands of Mercie stay my sincking Soule Which were in mercy mercilesly wounded For me vile wretch and for my trespasse foule That Grace might o'er abound where Sin abounded They are not shortned since they racked were For Sinne that Sinne might sinnelesse so appeare With those same hands deare Lord my Soule sustain Opprest with Poâ—se that made thy man-hood grone My load 's as great though farre lesse be my paine Whose sinne 's as great as all the worlds alone Then Worlds of Sin when on my backe I beare What meruell is 't I faint if not despaire Froth of Infirmitie and Weaknesse skumme I am no other how then should I beare The heauy sentence of true Iustice doome If to this Load of Sinne it added were None but a God and Man can beare that waight Sith God Man bow'd vnder-neath that fraight I am farre spent ô be not farre from me I panting labour neere the latest gaspe My Soule dismai'd not knowing where to flee With hands of Hope wan
And from my second Cause my wants proceed Then what can cause so good effect as this But thou whose Will is still in act and dead Looke what I am at best I am by Thee And when at worst in thee my hope still is For as no one but Thoâ— could fashion me So none but Thou can mend my least amisse Then what I am in deed or else in hope When I am best in both of thee I am Thou art my Soule and bodies vtmost scope Thou mad'st them both then oughst to haue the same If then Thou be my Beauties beauty yea The beauty of my Soules diuinest Part For Thou of beauty art the bancklesse Sea Who then but thou should wholy haue my Heart O Loue that burn'st in Heauens eternall Breast O Dart that woundest the whole Trâ—nitie O more much more then Crosse-wound me at least And let that Fire still burne me till I die O let my Soule melt Lord in thine applause Through holy-raging Flames of quenchlesse Loue O cause of causes this vouchsafe to cause And let these Flames their force vpon me proue O holy holy holy Trinitie Most holy Father and most gracious Sonne Most louing Holy-Ghost in Vnitie A Trinitie and but one God alone When when ô when will you three dwell in mee And make me one with you as one you are Of three make foure and one of one and three Your Essence keepe let me your goodnesse share When will it be ô when ô were it now Shall I ne'er see it ô how long delay O tedious tarrying how ô LORD ô how Shall I straight rest in thee mine onely stay Haste thee my Iesus haste deare Loue make haste I cannot stay then come my Ioy ô come My haste is great and I but Time doe waste Till I thy Loue and Time doe ouercome O my Soules Centre my Wils sweet repose Light of my Mindes Eye my Thoughts Paradise Heau'n of my Heart Companion of my Woes Salue of my Sores Cure of my Maladies Ioy of mine Exile and my Guide therein Breath of my Nostrils End of my Desires Iudge of my Life Forgiuer of my Sinne O all in all whereto mine All aspires If thou be these and all in all to mee Can I forget thee during but a Thought If so I should let me remembred be With pinching plagues to minde thee as I ought If I so much forget my selfe and thee Let my right Hand forget her cunning quight Nay let me not remember what I see That Memory so wrong'd may minde thy right No sleepe mine Eyes no rest mine Head shall haue Till thou my Head within my Heart doe rest Then enter Loue to enter ô vouchsafe It is but what thou offer'st I request Then let this offer of my Will and Loue Moue me to that to which thou me dost moue An acknowledgement of Gods gifts with desire of vnion with the Giuer IF we for fading Gifts are euer bound To loue our Friends for Gifts still loue do breed And if the Fire doe more or lesse abound According as the Fuell It doth feed Then ô how great a Flame of endlesse loue Should ô deare Lord still feede vpon mine All Sith past all measure I thy bounties proue And feed'st this Fire with Vnction-spirituall If the whole frame of Nature nay sweet Lord If Heau'n and Earth and all they doe containe Be but meere Gifts which thou dost me afford Then how shold Loue but in me more then raigne And that so much the more because there be In thee besides all Causes causing loue Which in their high'st perfection are in thee Then can such Motiues but much more then moue If Goodnesse I respect in thee it is As farre from Limit as Similitude For thou art LORD the boundlesse Sea of Blisse Because thou art the high'st Beatitude If Beautie I regard then thou art Hee That art the Fount from whence all Beauty flowes Whose Face the Angels still desire to see Whose Influence their Faces ouer-flowes If Bounty then who is so liberall As thou selfe bounty that dost gratis giue All and much more in deede then all to All By which they more then liberally doe liue If Riches who so rich as hee that owes What not If Being or what can be beside If Friendship who so kinde who for his Foes Did Death with torment willingly abide If Likenesse be a cause that loue effects Then who like that by which I am but thou For thou mad'st it like theeâ—n â—n all respects Saue that like thee it knowes not where nor how And if the END for which we all things doe The Finall END be infinitely lou'd Then who mine ALPHA and OMEGA too But thou to whom by Nature I am mou'd From thee to Thee by onely Natures skill I come and goe but goe not as I came For I came from thee iust as thou art still But doe returne opprest with sinne and shame If then to be thine Image with the rest Be seu'rall motiues strong of Loue intire Then what ought that to be bred of the best Nay bred of all but Loues eternall fire For as the Sea is greater then each Floud Which from and to her Bosome euer moues So is thy Goodnesse greater then each Good And thy loue more then other lasting loues Ah Lord what made thee make me but that loue What to redeeme me but that tender moode Of nought thou mad'st me which can nothing moue Being Nought and me redeemest to make me good O let me stretch the armes of mine Affects To hold thee to the Breast of my dâ—sires O cause of sweetnesse cause these sweet effects And make my Breast the Furnace for these Fires The Iuy still doth clip her neighb'ring Tree Because thereby it is â—dâ—anced oft Then will I cling to that on Caluaree Because thereby I shall be rais'd aloft The Iuy spreads her branches not so farre Nor by a Cedar so aduanc'd can be As my Soules pow'rs increast in vertue are And made to mount by vertue of this Tree Then ô that all my bodies Limbes were Armes That I on eu'ry side might it embrace Thy Crosse ô Christ doth blesse al thine from harmes And with ioy comforts them in woefull case O Christ that did the Crosses Tree ascend That so thou mightst draw all things vnto thee O draw me then let my life with thine end That so my life with thine may endlesse be Thou that didst Deitie to Manhood knit Two Natures so in Nature different Making one person of them infinite To make me one with the Omnipotent Grant that the vertue of that VNION May euer make vs more entire then ONE A thankfull remembrance of our preseruation notwithstanding our manifold sinnes WIth wounded Spirit I salute thy Woundâ— O all-bewounding Sacrifice for Sinne For my Soules health from thy Hearts hurt redounds Because thou dyedst to liue my Heart within With what loue shall I quite such wondrous Loue That comes from such vnheard-of Clemencie Who art
thou and who am I that can moue Heau'ns God t'immure himselfe in misery That thou whose Glory Glory it selfe admires Sholdst deigne to dwel in durt more vile then dung Sith Holinesse sweet Lord thy House requires Which hardly rests where many vices throng Heau'n is thy Seate the Earth thy Footstoole is For Heau'n and Earth thy Maiestie doth fill Then why great God art thou well pleas'd with this That thou art made but Mud for mire so ill For if the Heau'n nay Heau'n of Heauens be But too too small thy greatnesse to containe Then how can my heart lesse then nought hold thee How in a Bit of Wormes-meate canst thou raigne O Wonder that all Maruels farre surmounts He that vpon the Cherubins doth ride And viewes all Deeps from thence himself dismounts That he may in my Heart deepe Hell abide It not suffiz'd thy glowing Charitie To giue me Angels for my Guards and Guides Nay wast not onely pleas'd for me to dye But dwelst in me to giue me life besides There dost thou visit in the kindest kinde The Sicke sore sicke to giue him health thereby Sore sick in Body but more sicke in Minde And raise the Dead that willingly did dye My Soule exulteth with ioy rauished When as I minde that Miracle how once A Prophets dead Bones rais'd to life the Dead Onely by touching those life-giuing Bones If those dead Bones had such reuiuing pow'r Then what shall not Gods liuing Body doe The liuing Body of Lifes Gouernour Must needes giue endlesse Life and Glory too And if dead Bones conceiued in Sinne haue might To giue life to a sinfull Bodie dead What shall that doe conceiued by thy Spirit That must needs life-inspire eu'n senselesse Bread My Soule though dead in Sinne yet touching Thee By Faith and in thy bloud being sanctifide Can it but more then liue in Thee and me When Thou therein dost more then still abide And sith that Corpes was rais'd that crau'd not life By touching those dead Bones then Lord let me That as my Husband clip thee as thy Wise Be rais'd to life that beg the same of thee I cannot thinke because I thinke of thee as more then Grace it selfe that thou hast borne My sinnes and in my sinnes dost beare with mee that of thy Grace I shall be quite forlorne O! can my Soule but melt to thinke how oft thou mightst haue slaine me yet didst vse thy knife To prune and make me grow in Grace aloft and â—lu'st my Foes therewith that sought my life How many thousand Soules now burne in Hell that haue perhaps sinn'd lesse then sinfull I Who held thy Hands when I did so rebell that I should liue when Soules lesse sinfull dye My sinnes cry to thee and thou stop'st thine Eares lest thou sholdst heare them the more they cry The more thy deafenesse to them still appeares as if thou didst their clamorous suite deny I doe but sinne and thou dost me but saue if I flye fast from thee thou followest faster Though I be tir'd with Sinne thy Mercies haue no meane to tire but meanes my Sinnes to master The more I sinne the more thou humblest mee so mak'st me know my selfe by knowing Sinne Nay more it puls me from my selfe to thee so though I lose my selfe yet thee I winne O strange disposing of the worst of Ill meere Concord of maine Contradiction That which puls from doth draw together still where loue drawes Discords to make Vnion So then my Faults as if they Vertues were wrought for my good by thee that hast the skill To beare with men to make them sinne forbeare and so through Grace to pull good out of Ill Yet didst thou whisper in my Soules right Eare that I should doe no ill for such good end But mad'st me sinning Sinne to hate and feare in loue for that it did thee LOVE offend With Thornes thou dost hedge-in my narrow Way that if I ere so little step awry They straight doe pricke me and so make me pray for help to thee in whom all help doth lye And as the Hunter stoppeth vp each Gap wher-through the wild Bore may escape vncaught So dost thou stop my way with each misse-hap when I would runne away from thee to nought Am I escapt from out thy mercies Hands thy Hand of Iustice puls me in againe So Mercy holds me by which Iustice stands to help to hold me safe by ease and paine Haue I a Will by Death to damne my Soule by desprate Death to damne not mine but thine Thou dost that Will with thy good Will controule And mak'st my Will thy Will in spight of mine Am I resolu'd to sinne presumptuously and that of purpose to despight thee too Thou mak'st the Will without the Deed to dye and mak'st me damne the Deed ere it I doe Would I for any indiuine respect sell Heau'n for Earth and God so for the Deuill Thou God dost make that Would worke good effect for when it proues the Ill it shuns the euill Is my Hand stretched out my faith to plight to blacke Perdition twixt my hand and It Thou putst thy hand of Iustice which doth smite away my hand before that knot be knit The Weapons me thou gau'st my selfe to saue I monster did against thy Goodnesse bend And with thy glorious gifts I thee did braue so did I shame my selfe and Thee offend The Tongue thou mouedst that blasphemed Thee thou rul'dst the limbes that did thy Members rend Thou gau'st Wit pow'r with Thee to disagree and gau'st Will force the giuer to offend So that not onely I ingrate haue bin for thy good gifts but haue the same imployd As weapons of vnrighteousnesse in Sinne and so with thine owne Grace haue thee annoid Thou mad'st all Creatures for mine onely vse t' allure me to thy gainfull Loue thereby But I abused thee by their abuse so with thy Good deeds did thee damnifie So that through whom the seeing of thy Face was to be tane through them I could not see For I as Gods did them in Loue embrace which thou had'st giu'n to guide me vnto Thee That I might serue thee me did all things serue I did command that me thou might'st intreat They did me Good when I did ill deserue and when I made thee small they made me great Thou gau'st me Faith and Hell the Fruites hath had thou gau'st me Grace and Sinne hath vs'd the same Thou gau'st me Wit which Will abus'd as mad thou gau'st me Sense wherewith my selfe I shame Thou gau'st me Health which sickely I haue vs'd in riot surfet and in all excesse Thou gau'st me Strength which I haue still abus'd in waging warre with thine owne Mightinesse Thou for my profit plaguedst other men that so from Sinne I might be kept with ease But I vnplagued plagu'd my Brethren so farre off was I from remorse by These These Gifts I most vngratefull gratis had which though abus'd I vsed when I would And being Gifts
to them my Heart betraies And all to spoile it seeke by all assaies It is the Shop where base Affections frame The Embâ—ion of Sinne which growing great Breakes out to Action to the Actors shame Vnlesse thy Deed ô Lord the Deed defeate Then in the heart the Seate of Peace and Life I finde the certain'st Death the surest strife Lord help Lord help me to subdue my Heart Before these Foes my Heart doe quite o'er-throw O let it labour with a World of smart It selfe to conquer and it selfe to know They that so fight great Hearts and Glory haue Then let me fight my Fame and Heart to saue To saue my Heart which though it little be Yet nought but thine owne Greatnesse can suffice For t is a Kingdome onely made for thee Though Traitors to thee doe it oft surprise But chase from thence the traitors to thy Crowne That thou maist still in peace possesse thine owne O take away these Scandals of thy raigne Theeues of thy Glory most vain-glorious Theeues For Tyrant PRIDE would be my Soueraigne Which for reiecting her me euer grieues For Pride deare Lord is of that spightfull vaine That where she most seekes loue she most doth paine Then Lust Ire Enuie Malice Scorne and Hate Striue in me for me but as much as I Am holp by thee doe striue to keepe my State From vsurpation of their Tyranny Which freely I surrender vp to thee That freely twice did render me to me For I no King recognise but my God Worthy to sit as Soueraigne in my Heart Before all Scepters I adore thy Rod Which driues to endlesse pleasure though it smart O then away from mee yee cursed Crue Ye haue no part in me His onely due And come dear Lord destroy theÌ„ in their strength Confound their Councels all their Drifts defeate That I through thee may winne my selfe at length From out their Hands that make me as their Meate And let me so won lose my selfe in thee Where to be lost is still most safe to be Giue me ô Lord that empire o'er my Heart That It thy Becke and mine may still obey For that and more is due to thy desert Sith that due is much more then I can pay For I can pay no more then what is mine And I haue nought but sinne but what is thine Then as I am oblieg'd thee to obey So Equitie and Profit doe perswade That I should walke no Way but in thy Way For that 's the Way by which good Men are made Then till I goe away for good and all Let me runne in this Way and neuer fall For that 's to runne that so we may obtaine Else get we paine eternall for our paine If many runne and labour lose How easie is 't to be of those The Soule desireth to know God FRom out the Soule of my most happy Soule I praise thee migthy Maker of this All For that when I was nothing faire nor foule thou mad'st me of thy Creatures Capitall For to thine Image didst thou fashion me giuing my Soule Intelligence and Will That so at least she might b'in loue with thee sith all things loue their like by Nature still Thou mightst haue made me some detested Worme some Toade or Viper or some Crocâ—dile Or else some Monster both in moode and forme or ought what is most harmefull and most vile And that thou didst not it was of thy grace for what could I deserue when I was not No not a Being in the basest place much lesse Earths Lordship which is now my Lot And lest a Creature so resembling thee should instantly to nothing fall againe Thou me endu'dst with immortalitie that I might in all Worlds still liue and raigne Yet seem'd that nothing to thy boundlesse Loue vnlesse of nothing thou hadst made my Soule But little lesse if not some way aboÌ„ue the Angels for they serue and I controule Oxen and Sheepe with Grasse are satisfide Fish Fowle and Wormes with Food of baser kinde But my Soules Meate is more then Deifide for nothing but her God contents her Minde For She is made of that Capacitie because like thee She is directly made That Heau'n and Earth her cannot satisfie sith She shall flowrish most when these shall fade For though she once began yet now she is eternall made and truely infinite Then nought but thou that hast these properties can satiate her insatiate appetite Wretch that I am this World why doe I loue or seeke the fading glory of the same Why doe I riches sâ—eke and pleasures proue that doe the Soule vnioynt and Minde vnframe These Husks suffice not and these painted Fires warme but the bare imagination While the Soâ—le starues throgh cold with vaine desires bred by that powers misinformation O no her Food 's much more substantiall Supersubstantiall I should rather say Because it is so passing spirituall as none but purest Spirits it relish may Then know my Soule know what by kind thou art thy Makers Type and viue Similitude Whole in the Whole and whole in eu'ry Part another God of boundlesse magnitude How can thy Palate then taste any thing without distast that is not most diuine Why drink'st of this World 's Dike and leau'st the Spring that euer ouer-flowes with Angels Wine All vnder Heau'n is too vnsweete for thee for it 's but Elementall still in strife Nay nought in Heau'n but the sweet Trinitie can feede thee fat or keepe thee but in life That foode whose sweetnesse rauisheth the sense of sweetest soules diuinest Faculties Must feed thy Will and thine Intelligence else can they not to grace or glory rise That Lord whose Beauty Sunne and Moone admires whose Maiestie the Hoasts of Heau'n adore Whose Grace is praised by the Angels Quires He that was is and shall be euermore God infinite in pow'r and Maiestie hath made thee but to fill thee with his Loue Which being infiniâ—e in quantitie thine All and Parts all whole in each can moue Hee onely Hee can thy desires fulfill albe't they did exceede Immensitie And being Three in One can fitly fill thine Vnderstanding Will and Memory Then ô my Soule runne out this Guest to meet and him into thee gladly introduce Who is as sweet as great and good as sweet that vs'd augments and fades for want of vse Then locke him in the Closet of thine Heart where thou in secret maist vnfold thy Loue There clip him fast let him not thence depart till Hee with him from hence doe thee remoue Who will be soone intreated There to stay because it is the rest of his desire And needes hee must take thee with him away if Nuptiall Loue doe make you two intire Which dignitie of my Celestiall Soule when well I weigh deare Lord I maruell not Though in my Mud thy Sonne himselfe did roule to seeke in my true shape to knit this knot But muse I may at mine ingratitude my madnesse dulnesse and grosse impudence That doe neglect they Loues
beatitude and prostitute my Soule to foule Offence That I should carelesly his Loue neglect that is the beaming beauty of thy State And woo the vgly Diuell in effect thy sacred Image to adulterate This doth exceede all wonderments excesse this Prodigie is more then monsterous That any Soule should loue meere vglinesse before meere beauty more then glorious How can I thinke vpon thy boundlesse Loue and not pursue my selfe with endlesse Hate That for my sake didst hels of torments proue to pull me out of Hell and damned state And when I view my Bodies Edifice I finde so many of thy bounties there As might the Heart of Hate to Loue intice for in each haire-breadth of it they appeare Th' Arteries Sinewes Nerues Veynes Ligaments Heart Lungs Lights and in few the All in All Are thy Loue-tokens and kinde Complements that mak'st thy selfe throgh Lordly loue my thrall Wherein if I should still Philosophize I should finde matter still to praise thy name For this Mindes Organ yeelds such Harmonies as still in silence celebrate thy Fame This Wonder is the Worlds Epitomie a little World true abstract of the Great Yet greater then the Great in dignitie though that in quantitie be more compleate O! how should I to grace thy Grace be glad for that thou mad'st me not in deed or sight Blinde lame deafe epilepticke mute or mad but sound in Soule and Minde in Body right Yet Lord ô yet I want for nothing is brought from Not-being to a Being blest Immediately sith yet I am amisse but all things by degrees attaine their best For in the Worke of Nature Sense perceiues that first of all the Matter she prepares Then fits it to the Forme which it receiues but formes it not perhaps in many yeares Yet she doth not as lacking Pow'r or Art leaue ought imperfect which she takes in hand Yet out of hand she perfecteth no Part but that shee doth in time in Sea and Land Then thou that art her Soueragine canst thou lacke of her perfection in thy Workes begun Canst thou Almightie see Them goe to wracke or through neglect to leaue them halfe vndone Effects vnto their Causes onely looke that they from them Perfection may receiue Then of their Causes if they be forsooke they make a show but onely to deceiue Thou art my sole beginning and mine end then end that well which thou hast well begun Thou art my Cause then me th' Effect amend that I from grace to grace may euer runne Thine Eyes all-seeing see great Wants in me supply those wants deare Lord and let me want Nothing but wants that wanting are in thee sith what thou want'st to thee is discrepant Let no Blocke be more dull to apprehend that thou wouldst haue escape vntride then I Let my Wit for thy foolishnesse contend and let that Folly be my Wisedomes Eye Then in th' Egyptian darknesse of this life I shall behold the glory of thy Sonne And shape my course by him in Stormes of strife for all thy fooles doe striue to him to runne Then with that Protomartire shall I see the Canopie of Heau'n being op'ned wide The beaming beauty of the Trinitie that by none but such fooles can be espide Let me be wise in deed and not in show sith neuer shades haue substances begot And they know nothing as they ought to know that know not they are fooles that know thee not The Foole hath said in heart No God there is so saith he sith he knowes not otherwise Then Truth and Wisedome cals him Foole for this because true Wisedome in this Knowledge lies The Pagan-wisedome though it knew what not that was beneath the Circuit of the Sunne Yet was that wisedome fondly ouer-shot sith all was vaine It knew when all was done For vnder Heau'n as saith thy sacred Truth remaineth nought that is not more then vaine What wisedome then from knowing it ensu'th but such as Fooles by knowing Bables gaine Then let the World still make a Foole of mee So I may onely know my selfe and Thee A Thankesgiuing for our Being LEst Thankelesnesse should close thy Bounties hand which it alone kind Lord hath pow'r to do And sith thou giuest what thou dost command if we but stretch our Good-wils hand thereto Kinde lib'rall Lord giue me an able will to thanke thee for thy gifts that by one gift I may be gratefull for another still which is of Willing-want the onely shift I thanke thee then not onely for my Being being as I am the liuely forme of thee But for that thy high Prouidence all-seeing doth striue to make me euer better Bee For should thy hand be but a moment clos'd I should to nought resolue as once I was For thou my time of moments hast compos'd the last of which I cannot ouer-passe Then looke how many moments I exist so many blessings dost thou giue to mee Preuenting me with others ere I wist that so my Being might right blessed be From my Conception to Natiuitie thou keptst me saf◠thogh strait kept in the womb My Mothers Bowels might haue strangled me but that thy Mercies hand still made me roome Wherein I felt ere I could feele or see the blessings of thy tender Prouidence And lest I should perhaps abortiue be thou gau'st me there full nine Months residence Where how thou fedd'st me by the Navle-string I may admire but ne'er the same expresse And how thou didst my Parts together bring confus'd in slime it is no wonder lesse The longings of my Mothers appetite her food feares griefes fals and such accidents Might haue enforc'd her ere my Frame was pight eft to diffuse me in the Elements For when I was an Embrio but a thought might haue redrown'd me in Not-beings Pit But then thou thoughtst on me and so hast wrought that Danger from her Mouth me safe did spit How happily-vnhappy had I bin to be made Man in possibilitie And marr'd eu'n as my making did begin so straight to finde and lose Humanitie That which we neuer had we neuer lost therefore for losse of that we cannot grieue But rare things had to lose doth grieue vs most for better still dead then but now to liue Then to be borne within no Pagan Clyme addes no small waight to this great Benefit But come of Christians in good place and time and am a Christian much more maketh it And am a Christian ô that so I were as I am nam'd and still desire to b◠That I might say I am and so appeare sith but to seeme good is too bad with thee For thou great GOOD that call'st thy selfe I AM dost loue I am not was nor yet will be Then let me say I am in deede and name thy Seruant that but liues to honour thee For sith I haue such Beeing let me be such as I AM not as I am that is Such as Thou art most perfect Pietie for thou art wast and euer wilt-be this Besides thou hast and dost preserue
Traitor worse then hee that solde thee it will for Meede or Dread the Soule betray Nor in fire is it willing to behold thee in fiery tryals then it shrinckes away Therefore when it a Champion of such might betraid to feare I dare not say I will No that 's Presumption but I wish I might for willing well without thee we doe ill Then be with me strong Pow'r and I will say I will and will performe that will in Deed For where thou art by Pow'r it 's but a play in greatest torments then to burne or bleed Now as thy Body grew so grew thy griefes for who deare Lord can possibly expresse Thy Persecutions void of all reliefe saue Praying Fasting Watching Wearinesse They spake against thee who sate in the Gate and common Drunkards ballads made of thee That thou might'st say in worse then Dauids state being poore I labour from mine Infancie These were the griefs dear Loue thy life did brook but in thy Death what Sense ere vnderstood What paines thou felt'st when like a rising brooke thy body more and more o'erflow'd with bloud Freedome made Captiue Mercy Miserie Grace quite disgraced beauty vilifide Innocence strooken Iustice doom'd to dye Glory quite shamed and Life crucifide O Heau'ns what can amaze with Wonderment the Sense of Man more then this what shall I Call this so strange vnheard of Loues extent that ouer-fils all Names Capacitie In few now Grace alone seemes Sinne alone Life dyes State 's whipt and Pow'r bound to a Poast The Glory of the Father spet vpon and in a word God seemeth to be lost In this Deepe further may my Soule not wade my strength is spent for my heart bleedes in me O glorious Grace O Maiestie vnmade is this for me O boundlesse Charitie If I for my Redemption am so tide to loue and honour thee What shall I bee For that thou did'st so many Deaths abide when one wold serue to make me more than free With what loue shall I quite this more then Loue with what life shall I imitate thy life With what teares shall I my repose reproue and with what Peace shall I conclude my strife I owe thee more for my redeeming Lord sith in the same thou Death of deaths didst proue Then for my Making which was with a Word for more much more thy Passion showde thy loue For if for Cherubins or Seraphins thou had'st thus di'd t 'had beene lesse meruellous But thou hast di'd for me a Sincke of sinnes which of all Wonders is most wonderous What are we Lord or what our Fathers House we Sons of wretched Men that Gods deere Senne Doth in such loue and mercie visit vs as through Death to re-make vs quite vndone If in the ballance of thy Sanctuary thou weigh our body t' will be found more light Than Vanitie more graue then Misery as if It did consist in Natures spight And if our Conuersation thou respect what is it but a Chaos of Offence The Goodnesse of whose All is all Defect whose very Souâ—'s but Hell of Conscience Dost thou ô God then for such Diuels die the Sonnes of Sathan most oppos'd to thee For the Subuerters of all Honestie for breakers of good Lawes that blessed be For thy Contemners for thy Gloryes Clouds for thy Deprauers for the worst of Ils For meere cuâ—st Thwarts of all Beatitudes for thy Tormentors that thy Soule would kill Whose Hearts no gifts can once allure to loue much lesse with Menaces are terrifide Nor mou'd with heauy Plagues that Rockes would moue nor yet with sweet'st Indulgence mollifide For Fiends who not suffic'd with their owne vice the Earth doe compasse so to compasse more And not contented others to intice diue to the Diuels to augment their store Where robbing those Egyptians of their wealth to weet Pride Enuy Malice blasphemie Away they steale so all they doe by stealth to make them Idols for their Fantasie Who when they haue rak'â— Hell for eu'ry Euill and got as much as Hell can hold or yeeld They then deuise themselues worse then the Diuel new kindes of sinnes that Hell yet neuer held Adding thereto obduracie of Heart and doe their Conscience more then cauterize Pleasing themselues like Fiends in others smart and for that end doe many meanes deuise Are these deare Lord the things for which thou the things I say for no Name is so ill As they deserue What onely must the Highest diest dye for vile Vipers that their Maker kill My Heart doth faile my Spirit is extinct when thus I weigh thy Mercies with my Sinne And wert not for thy graces meere instinct I should despaire deare Lord and dye therein Yet sith I haue begun to speake to thee O be not angry if I yet doe speake Let Dust and Ashes once so saucie be to aske their God what He hereby doth seeke Seek'st thou the loue of such meere Lumps of Hate or else the seruice of such Vermine vile Alas great Lord it stands not with thy State sith where they come by nature they defile If thy desire of Marriage did so burne that Thou thy Creatures would'st needes espouse Why then did Seraphins not serue thy turne that are more Noble and thee better vse Why of a prepuce Nation took'st a Wife which afterwards did Thee betray and kill So marriedst as it were the very Knife that cut thy throate so seem'dst thy selfe to spill What answer'st Lord to these too high Demands I would haue this because I would have this This is thine Answere and the reason stands vpon thy Will which cannot will amisse Then be it Lord according to thy Will for so it muâ—â— be be it how so ere By life or death then let me It fulfill that dost by both thee so to mee endeere For since Mans fall none passe to Paradise but by the dreadfull burning Cherubins To Canaan none but by where Marah lies sith there th' inheritance of ioy begins And none vnto the happy Citie goes that goes not by the Babel-Riuers side And none Ierusalem or sees or knowes that through the vale of Teares nor goe â—orride The way to Heau'n is by the Gates of Hell and Wormwood-wine thogh bitter wholsome is Thy Crosse ô Christ doth Heau'ns strong 〈◊〉 compell to open wide for t is the Key of blisse And sith for me so well thou loud'st that Crosse Let me for thee count all things else but losse A Thanksgiuing for our Vocation WIth all the pow'r and vertues of my Soule I doe adore thee holy Lord of All That when I had no name in thy check-rowle thou wrat'st it on thy Palme and me didst call I dwelt sometimes in blacke Obliuions Land where in the shade of Death I sadly sate But thou kind Lord didst reach me then thy hand which from thence drew me to a glorious state When as I wandred in the crooked wayes that too directly led to endlesse paine Thou didst thy forces then against me raise to put me in thy
my Vocation most did moue but that that Iustifide me past the rest The gift of Glory still to Saints assign'd is great so great that none may greater be Yet to be iustified is in his kinde as great a gift and no lesse laudeth thee To make Men iust that are in sinfull case is more then to make iust Men glorious Sith greater ods there is twixt Sinn and Grace then is twixt Grace and Glory God and Vs. My Making and Redemption had but made m'excuse the lesse and my Damnation more Except my Soule thou hadst made iustly glad in iustifying me that sinned sore Whiles therefore on these things I meditate my Soule entranced lies as if she were No more my Senses or my bodies Mate but were transform'd to Admiration here What shall I render Lord ô how shall I remunerate ô that can ne'er be done Or how shall I but praise thee worthily but such praise doth my pow'r no lesse out-runne O that the Organs of my Soule were such as with thy praise they Heau'n and Earth might fill I would therein reioyce much more then much but Lord accept the freedome of my Will For could it make thee more then what thou art thogh more cannot be wisht much lesse conceiu'd I would performe a right Well-willers part and make thee what it could for Grace receiu'd Then let my Will be aided by thy Might That Will in Deed may praise thy Name aright Of Gods vnutterable Being with desire of the Soule to be swallowed vp with the loue of his Maiestie O Past-beginning and immortall Sp'rit eternall and incomprehensible Incircumscrib'd in Maiestie and Might seene all in All yet most insensible Immutable impassible most iust inscrutable in mercy most compleate From whom they came and vnto whom they must that doe beleeue thou art as good as great Who by thy ne'er-too-much applauded Word hast framed whatsoe'er created is One blessed TRINITIE in true accord of perfect Vnitie and boundlesse blisse If that great Patriarcke Father of the Iust who albeit thou deign'dst to call thy Friend Yet in respect He Ashes was and Dust did feare to speake to Thee that Eare did lend Nay if the highest Orders of those Sprights that in thy presence burne through loue of thee Dare not vpon thine Essence fixe their sights lest they through glory should confounded be If these so pure so deare so holy Ones so fearefull are to speake or looke on thee Who albeit they sit themselues on Thrones yet in thy sight through loue so awfull be How shall a Shorelesse Sea of Misery a Sincke of Sinne a Sacke of filthiest dung All which ah woe therefore deare Lord am I once dare to thee to stirre or Eye or Tongue But sith sweet Lord I can no way obtaine that awfull reu'rence which is due to thee Vnlesse mine Eyes still fixt on thee remaine and made amazed with thy Maiestie Vouchsafe me leaue dread God vouchsafe me leaue to lift mine Eyes vnto thy Throne of Grace O let thy brightnesse mine Eyes splendor giue and blinde them not that long to see thy Face I see dread Lord thou onely thou art Hee that dost transcend our vnderstandings reach And yet by vnderstanding well I see they see thee best to whom thy beames doe stretch Then ô most bright faire wise kinde liberall most stable simple subtile gracious Secret yet knowne vnscene yet seeing All vnmou'd yet mouing in rest making vs Whom Latitudes dilate nor Bounds restraine Varietie doth change nor Passions moue Rest makes not idle nor Worke puts to paine who art not hurt by Hate nor holp by Loue. From whom Obliuion nothing can detract to whom Remembrance can as little adde Who art Dilated most yet most Compact not grieu'd in Sorrow nor in Solace glad To whom there 's nothing past much lesse to come sith Time and Place still present be with thee Of all this All thou art the totall Summe beyond which nothing is much lesse can be For th' art in all things yet art not included but yet in all things art thou by sufficing Thou art without all yet art not excluded but without all things thou art by comprising Th' art vnder All yet subiect vnto none but vnder All that All might rest on thee And farre aboue All yet not proud thereon but All aboue that All might gouern'd be Perfect in All in none deficient Great without bounds Good without compare Present in each Place yet in no Place pent yet whole in All and parts in All that are In Pow'r and Wisedome most-most infinite in Counsaile wonderfull in Iudgement iust Secret in thoughts in word and Promise right glorious in Deedes which glorifie our Dust Past all extent thy Loue doth farre extend whose Mercie 's more then most indefinite Thy Patience more than Pow'r can comprehend because it is no lesse then is thy Might What shall I say great-good good-great-great Lord I feare in these my Words I doe offend To seeme to circumscribe thee in a Word that art without all measure meane or end Thou art ô sacred Sp'rits Angelicall that haue fruition of Him face to face Lend me a Name by which I Him may call and may expresse some measure of his Grace Thou art too great for GREATNES ne'er so GREAT and far too good for GOODNES e'er so GOOD Who were it possible art more compleate in GOODNESSE then thine owne Trin-vnion-hood Yet thou thou nameles Good who thogh thus great dost bid vs seeke thee for who seeketh findes Who though not to be seene vpon thy Seate yet sitt'st thou seene in Eyes of humble Mindes Thou thou art He whom to forsake is death and for whom life to leaue is life alone In whom to breathe is to breathe blessed Breath and for whom to contend is Vnion No man fosakes thee but the forlorne Foole and no one seekes thee but whom thou dost seeke Nor none can find thee but whom thou dost schoole thou school'st none but whom thy Lessons like What should I say of thee or how shall I thy Goodnesse praise how shall I celebrate The glory of thy back parts Maiestie though ne'er so much thou it extenuate I le say as those whom thou taugh'st what to say thou measurest the Waters with thine Hand Vpon thy Palme thou dost the Heau'ns weigh and on thy Finger all the Earth doth stand Thou art that Ancient ancienter then Dayes whose Throne is like a bright ay-burning Flame The Wheeles wherof like Fire that Sparks doth raise vpon whose Thigh is writ a glorious Name Thy Body like a beaming Chrisolite thy Face like Lightning thine Eyes Lampes of Fire Thine Armes Feete like Brasse all burnisht bright thy Voyce like Thunder but It soundeth high'r A fiery Streame still floweth from thy Throne a thousand thousand minister to thee Ten thousand thousand waite on thee alone and Millions by the Thousands ready be Who with a Beck nay lesse but with a Thought rul'st Heau'n and Earth according to thy Will
my thoughts and Sinne are One and so most base And though so base they be yet n'erthelesse oft Grace they mind so Sinne presumes on Grace Lord how am I deprau'd by Sinne that can scarse thinke a thought but I doe sinne therein Then blessed Lord how canst thou chose but banne so vile a Slaue so subiect vnto Sinne I must not leaue Thee thus no though my Heart be well-neere Flint I must not leaue thee so With thee for Grace I le wrastle ere we part then let me finde it in mine Ouer-throw And if such Sinne thou dost forgiue by Grace and that where much is pardon'd Loue is much My Loue shall ouer-fill all Time and Place such is my Sinne my Loue shall then be such Deny me not deare Lord for I will take no nay of thee no thou dost me inuite Being heauy laden to thee ô then make me free there-from lest it doe quell me quite And learne me Lord to woo thee for thy Grace and winne it by my wooing to relieue me Thou canst soone lighten this my heauy case then thy Will 's good with good will then forgiue mee Make my Heart feele although the while it ake some Signe of Grace that thereby I may know Thou lou'st such wooers as no nay will take and Wrastlers such as will not let thee goe Though speake I cannot as I would my Spright stil woos thy grace with sighs then words more deep Thou know'st her speech and dost therein delight then ô let thy kinde Answere make mee weepe Thy Louing-kindnesse hath the pow'r to strike her dumbe with ioy and after make her shrill In thine applause for whom thou Lord dost like thou still mak'st drunke with ioy through thy good-will Then if I haue found Fauour in thy sight or els wilt giue me any hope of Grace Make druncke my Soule with thy sweet loues-delight and let her so ioy-rauisht thee embrace I sue to thee for that I needes must haue I cannot be without It sith within It 's all mine All then It I still will craue vntill by ceasely begging it I winne Then grant me grace from Sinne me still to free Else by thy grace I le cry for 't still to thee The Sinner confessing he can neyther will thinke nor doe any good thing without Gods preuenting and assisting Grace importunes the same O Thou that from the Bottome of Not-being didst raise me to BEE thus a MAN like Thee And ere I WAS through thy diuine Fore-seeing didst more then see what would become of me Giue giue me leaue thou God of endlesse Grace to enterplead with Thee without thine ire Why AM I if thou turn'st from me thy Face sith so a Brand I am but for Hell-Fire I could not choose but Be when thou would'st haue me for how could nothing crosse Almightinesse And now I Am am lost vnlesse thou saue me but none thou sau'st that still thy Will transgresse Nor can I doe thy Will without thou wilt and if thou wilt thy Will no Pow'r can crosse Much lesse my Weaknesse then if I be spilt it seemes thy Will although my blame and losse And yet thou sai'st thou wilt no Sinners Death thy Word is Truth it selfe then if thou would'st That I should liue ô let me spend my Breath as those whom thou by Grace from sin with-hold'st So in thy Will which no Pow'r e'er impugnes consists mine euerlasting Weale or Woe Then not to me so much as thee belongs to saue me from eternall ouerthrow I can but Will but well I cannot Will if thou first will it not nor euer shall Then will it first for I can will but Ill without thy Grace so Grace doth all in All. I cannot thinke then much lesse can I doe ought pleasing thee without thy Grace first got And yet to doe it still thou me dost woo which yet I cannot if thou doe it not For looke what good I doe it is not I but thou that dost it in and by me still Then still I can doe all things in and by thee Lord of Pow'r agreeing with thy Will O then incline my Will thy Will to doe and giue me Pow'r with Will else Will will faile Will thou but this then me thou need'st not woo because thy Will with mine must needes prâ—uaile So shall there be but one Will twixt vs two Graunt this deare Lord for this I thee doe woo The Sinner because of the darknesse of his vnderstanding confesseth his inabilitie to come to the knowledge of Gods will by his Word and desireth to be holp and enlightened by Gods spirit therin THou hast commanded Lord in eu'ry Want that Man thy Creature still should call on thee And thou his iust desires hast said to grant then now ô now thy Promise keepe with mee For now eu'n from the Bottome of the Deepe I cry to thee that art all Heights aboue I crying call or rather calling weepe for what I want that is thy Grace and Loue. Then as thou art still soothfast grant them me that by them still I may thy Heasts performe Then if thou would'st I should obedient be let Loue and Grace my will to thine conforme Lo I entend and by thy holy Grace will still contend thy holy Will to doe Then through the luster of thy brightest Face shew it that I may know and doe it too Giue that which thou hast giu'n me Pow'r to craue and Promise to obtaine thy guiding Spirit Thou still dost tender that which I would haue yet cannot take it if I lacke thy light A Chaos Lord of Darknesse still I am without th'inlightning Spirit still moue thereon Then let thy Spirit with light so cleare the same that it may be an Heau'n for thee alone Vnseele mine Eyes that long thy Light to see for they are blinded with black Ignorance Then Light of Lights to Heau'n direct thou me the rightest way with thy bright Countenance Men are of various mindes about this Way some this some say that way the way doth lie And to it Scripture Truths right Rule doe lay but Truth ne'er lay in such diuersitie For Truth is one but these are manifold then lead me in this way else stray I shall Incline my Will this rightest way to hold how euer strait and in it neuer fall O trade me in thy Paths I begge of thee with all the forces of my minde and mouth And when I step awry straight shew it me by inspiration of thy Spirit of Truth If in thy Word I looke for help herein from all Presumption keepe my priuate Spright For many Doctors so deceiu'd haue beene then make my Soule still see and take the right Thy Word 's a Lanthorne to direct their steps that are as humble as intelligent Yet oft the Wise thy meaning ouer-leapes while it 's reuealed to the innocent Thou spak'st therein to all Capacities and lispst to Babes to make them know thy minde Yet if thou guide them not and ope their eyes the
O let her be repos'd none outherwise then as they fashion her To harbor Thee that 's make her well dispos'd els let her rest be restlesse euer there My Sonne saith thou deare Lord giue me thy heart ô small request my Heart Lord what is it But one poore bit of wormes-meate can no Part of me delight thee but so vile a bit Why thou didst wholy giue thy selfe to me shall I returne thee then but that alone O t is sweet Sauiour most vnworthy Thee for which thou know'st it's meekly wo-begon Yet gladly would I giue it but it is so small vncleane vnquiet and accurst That I doe feare to giue it so amisse sith of all gifts it 's worser than the worst Yet take it Lord of Loue it is thine owne how e'er I haue abus'd it make it such As thou wouldst haue it let it still be knowne fit for thy Stampe vpon thy Trials Touch. O glorious King what grace is 't to our Hearts to be accepted and desir'd of thee Then take my Heart yea all mine other parts for they are safe in thee but lost in me And is this all thy gaine ô kindest Lord and is this all our gift one wretched Heart And for the same dost thou thy selfe afford then take it to thee Lord through ioy or smart For nothing can I giue thee but the same augments my gaine and glory endlesly Then take it wholy set me all on flame to melt me into thee by Charitie For were my Heart as great as is the Heau'n that all includes and that past price it were It should to thee desiring it be giu'n sith I haue thee for it who hast no Peere Then World be silent call it not againe Flesh be as still permit it still to goe And Diuell striue not for it is in vaine my God will haue it then it shall be so Vade vade for all you cannot fill my Heart my God alone can doe it and He must Haue it to fill then from me all depart that seeke to fill it but with winde or dust And sole Sufficer chaine it still to Thee with Adamantine Linckes of endlesse Loue That through those Straites which thou hast past for me it may be drawne to thee if slow it moue Let it attend thee to the Iudgement-Hall where thou wast doom'd to death and to the Hill Whereon thou suffer'dst let it taste thy Gall and on thy Crosse let it be fixed still That be'ing with thee thus plagu'd disgrac'd slaine It may with thee be rais'd and crown'd and raigne A soueraigne Salue against Sinne and Despaire out of S. Augustine DEare Lord when sinfull thoughts doe me assaile to thy deare Wounds then let me hye with speed When burning lust against my thoughts preuaile quench it by minding me how long they bleede In all Extreames I finde no Meane so good as thy wide Wounds to keepe my Soule still whole They cannot dye that drown'd are in thy bloud for that is Aqua vitae to the Soule Thy Death is my desert then doe I not lacke merits sith thy Death destroyes my Sinne Thy Mercy is my merit and my Lot is glories Crowne through my firme hope therein For if thy grace be great then is it cleare my glory shall be great and the more pow'r Thou hast to saue the lesse I ruine feare for Grace abounding makes Loues hope secure Yet I acknowledge mine iniquities and Conscience with her thousand Witnesses Accuse me of extreame impieties yet will I hope of mercy ne'erthelesse For where Sinne hath abounded there hath grace abounded more so loue enflaming in The grieu'd delinquent who doth enterlace sweete teares of Ioy with bitter Teares for Sinne. For who dispaires God vtterly denyes deny his Attributes himselfe deny His Iustice we prouoke his mercies rise but from him selfe who is selfe Clemencie Then let my thoughts still murmure while they will and aske why such a Sinner grace should seeke Yet in firme hope I will continue still sith he hath promised that cannot breake Who can doe what he will and he will doe what he hath sworne which is he will make whole The broken Heart for sinne and grace it too yea help contrition in the willing Soule My Sinnes though great then me no whit dismay when his deare Death I minde for all my Crimes Can ne'er o'er-match his Mercies if I pray for grace to hope in his sure help betimes His Thorny Crowne and Naylâ—s that him transpierc'd assures my hope that He and I are One Which haue his Iudgemeuts gainst my sinnes reuerst if I but grieue for what I haue misdone Longius hath clear'd the sad coast to his Heart with his fell Speare that kinde to me made way There rest I now in Ioy and ioyfull smart of safety sure while there in hope I stay Vpon the Crosse he doth his Armes extend t' embrace the Contrite then betweene those armes Deuoutly will I throw me till mine end so safe I shall be there from foes and harmes He bow'd his Head before Death brake his Heart to kisse his Louers with the kisse of Peace Then still I le kisse him so shall I depart in peace to him that is my Sinnes release Sweet Christ embrace me then and kisse me till I dye to liue to clip and kisse thee still The crazed Soule being almost in dispaire desireth Grace to hope in Gods mercy LOrd in thy Loue let me be none of them that loue but in a Calme a time beleeue But when a Storme ariseth doe blaspheme and with infernall S'prits thy Sp'rit doe grieue Thus what I need I craue but what I feare thou know'st deare Lord I feare I am too bold To seeke thy loue because I doe appeare no correspondence with thy loue to hold For he that merits hate Lord how can he straight looke for loue who hath shame deseru'd Seeke for immortall glory or to be from shame and paine which he deserues preseru'd He moueth but his Iudge to iustest wrath that being faulty lookes he him should cleare Without meete satisfaction for the scath which he hath done all these my hopes doe feare For he that is to shame and death condemn'd small reason hath to looke for high'st respect If but his death by grace might be redeem'd in sense it should be all he could expect But why ô why doe I now call to minde what I haue done to make my feares more rife Death I deserue yet seeke I life to finde that liue but to offend the Lord of life Can I still vexe my Iudge yet looke for grace and still prouoke my King yet seeke his loue Nay still but buffet my sweete Iesus face and yet expect he should my Iesus proue Alas how should he much lesse how can I such fauour seeke that so his Fauour wrongs Can wrong expect such right in equitie ô no for vengeance to the same belongs Vengeance belongs to wrongs so great so plaine as so to wrong a MAIESTIE so
great Then Feare perswades me I seeke grace in vaine yet Grace makes hope some Fauour to intreat I haue neglected to fore-see the woes that follow sinne and now would grace for-goe I oft haue taken mortall ouerthrowes yet scarse haue felt a mortall ouerthrow I haue encreast my scars that feared not to adde still sinne to sinne and graue to light Fresh Wounds haue opened those before I got to make the Cure most hard or curelesse quite And what the Baâ—mes of Grace had clos'd before I through the itch of sinne haue opened wide Which through corruption now are growne so sore that scarse I can so sore a Cure abide The Skinne which growing ouer hid my Wounds through breaking out of the corruption gape For sinne the grace once granted quite confounds so that I feare I hardly can escape For if the righteous man shall perish in his sinne committed how much more then shall Repentant sinners turning eft to sinne the thought whereof more grieues me then my fall The newly dead Christ quickly rais'd to life but he must groane in spirit weepe cry and pray Yer Lazarus be rais'd for mortall strife Death made with life to leaue so long a Prey So it is in Regeneration for the lesse the Soule 's defil'd with sinnes delight And the more she the least sinne doth abhorre the lesse winde of Gods Sp'rit reuiues that sp'rit What shall I doe I can but sinne deare Lord if so thou canst but plague yea plague with Death Sith still I sinne then in thought deed and word cut off my sinne or els abridge my breath For Breath it is that kindles sinne in me with blowing at the coales of damn'd desires These through my banefull breath still raging be and quite consume the grace that me inspires Then if I did not breathe I should not sinne yet should I loose my breath e'er sinne bewaile I by that losse should but damnation winne then let me rue my faults yer Breath doth faile But if thou wilt that I should longer liue Let me no longer sinne or longer grieue A desire of the louing Soule of God to be kissed with the kisse of Peace KIsse me ô kisse me with Loues honyed Kisse ô dearest Loue and sweet'st-sweet'st-Heart of my Soule Whose loue is like pure Wine that cordiall is doth sowre cares with Comforts sweet controle Thy Name is like to sweet suffused Balme which makes chast Soules eu'n sick for loue of thee Whose Passions striuing in a blessed calme on Sorrowes Seas to thee still rowling be Draw me deare Loue then after thee I le runne vpon the sent of thy diuine Perfumes My Loue 's impatient since it first begunne of this delay which quite my Soule consumes Then ô delay no more to marry mee But wed my Soule that pines for loue of Thee Sith all Gods Creatures are against those that are against GOD in action the Sinner desireth to be in vnitie with him AS when a Master hath most mortall Foes his Seruants and men made by him will be Most persecuting Enemies to those till with their Lord and Master they agree So all thy Creatures Lord doe rise in Armes against great Sinners if impenitent To plague them with all kinde of killing harmes till they be ruin'd quite or made repent But being one with Thee our Enemies shall seeke our Fauour and themselues submit For when they see our Succour's in the Skies they will adore vs and acknowledge it Then make me Lord my foes straight put to flight By being one with Thee for whom they fight The Sinner desireth to haue the bent of his Will made appliable to Gods THe Way to Heau'n that truest Port of Peace is straite and straight vntill at Hell we be Where on the right hand then we turne with ease for when we passe that Point then well are wee But being straite but few that Way doe wend and being straight the crooked misse it still Then to this Port but few their course doe bend sith most are crooked euer bent to Ill. Then make vs straight deare Lord with handling straite or bring vs to thy bent with other Art Wee know thine vpright Compasse hath the sleight to bow vs to the bending of thy Heart That we may shoote and still may winners proue The Shafts of our Indeauours at thy Loue. The Sinner inueighes against his fleshes frailtie desiring God to strengthen it with his pow'r and Grace VIle Flesh why dost thou so my Spirit impugne That still the Sonne of Righteousnesse I wrong who di'd to make you liue No Moment breathe I but I breathe out Sinne That ends with shame where Sorrow doth beginne which makes me glad to grieue In thee fraile Flesh I feele my bloud to boyle With heate of such desires as make the Soile but Sinne in graine to beare My Spirits that in that Bloud doe swim with paine Yet floate they sith false pleasures them sustaine are neere the wracke I feare I feare the Rocke of refuge to the Iust For how in Truth should Treason put her trust Then truthlesse Traitor I May iustly feare that Grace in Iustice will My gracelesse Soule for Fleshes Treasons spill which makes me liuing dye I liuing dye not as one mortifide To sinne wherein as dead aliue I bide The more my griefe and blame I faine would dye to liue but Flesh doth draw My Life to Death sith I obserue the Law of Sinne which is my shame O thou whom Iacob wrastled with a space Strengthen my Faith to wrastle with thy Grace that it may set me goe Although it lame my Loynes and crack my Thighes Wherein strong Sinne still domineering lyes into thy Weale through Woe The Sinner recounting his manifold transgressions and finding himselfe thereby in danger of perdition desireth Grace through a world of sorrowes to auoid both Sinne and damnation MY Soule still faint in doing well and strong in working ill now now thy selfe retire From outward Cares or else amidst their throng poure out thy Sorrowes to thy heau'nly Sire Thy scatter'd thoughts in Fancies lewd as light gather together and with all thy Pow'rs Vnited shew thy sinne and cursed plight sith meeke Confession grace for sinne procures Weighing my deeds I finde too light they be yet more then I can beare nay me they quell So am farre lighter if thou ballance me and yet my lightnesse weighes me downe to Hell Shame shall not let me though it boile my Bloud t' vnfold the foule diseases of my Soule To him that can and will so doe me good and make her Angell-faire though ougly-foule My Time then to my shame I must confesse vnto my Soules Physitian grace to winne Hath all in sinne beene spent yet ne'erthelesse too short I thought it for my shortest sinne If I at any time did seeming-good t' was but corrupt or counterfaite at least And so t' was but well done in likelihood being but a sinne well-coulored at best My deeds with ill haue then depraued bin
nothing more then sinne Lord help me in this strange extremitie of crosse desires which in my Soule are found My Will is bound to Sinne but would be free then if it would how should my Will be bound Were it my Flesh alone desir'd to sinne my Soule resisting t' were not so amisse Such crosse desires in thy best Saints haue bin but in my Soule my Sinne conceiued is And yet shee 's barraine gauly and impure of emptinesse not emptie and thereby A soulelesse Soule so lifelesse doth endure yet liues in Death because she cannot dye Then empt mine empty Soule for Sinne doth fill with nought but vacuum her capatious thought For Sinne is nothing sith thou mad'st not Ill without whom nought was made then empt this nought For t is that Law though nought that still rebels against both grace and natures Gouernment This lawlesse Law my members still compels to bowe as Sinnes vnrighteous Rule is bent Lord I beleeue yet help mine vnbeliefe and well doe will yet better my desire Cure thou the Wound my Will receiu'd in chiefe through Adams Fall and make our Wils entire Giue me both Will and Pow'r to doe thy Will and let me neither haue to crosse the same For when I see my Will would thine fulfill yet doth it not I pine with griefe and shame I cannot will aright but right resist without thy grace preuent my crooked will And willing well without thy grace assist I cannot for my bloud my will fulfill So thy preuenting and assisting grace makes my Will worke for of my selfe I am So fraile by nature and so beastly base that my best thoghts are more then much too blame Then let thy Grace my wayward Will preuent and helpe me to performe it so preuented Yea make my thoughts and deedes most innocent else let me ioy in nought but them lamented Nay make my Heart deare Lord so apt to waile That it may weepe when I to weepe doe faile The Sinner desireth not to be as he is but as he ought to be TO be all nought is nought at all to be and to be sinfull still is to be nought Yet Sinners ARE though dead in sinne we see as Men ARE though they are not as thy ought Deliuer me deare Lord from being such such being take from me that sinfull is For better nothing be then be so much because so much is more then most amisse Then let me be not as I am but what I ought to Be or take me as I am Take me to Thee and then I will be that I ought to be thine owne in Deed and Name For then I am when I am wholy thine But I am not while I am Sinnes or Mine In respect of the breuitie and vncertaintie of mortall life the Sinner desires grace in time to prepare for Death MY stupid Soule now recollect thy pow'rs weigh in Iudgements Scales thy present state Thou in thy Iaile my Flesh but some few howres hast now to stay by nature neere her date My Pilgrimage is almost past ô then it thee behooues to looke with stedfast eyes Towards thy Countrey Home of Happy-men least ere thou looke in straying pathes thou dye Now faints my force my sense impaires my flesh like wither'd fruit now falleth with each breath Some Birds o'er-aged doe their youth refresh but Man growne Twâ—-childe is at doore of death The Young-man may dye quickely but the Olde can not liue long misse-haps may wracke the one But nought in Arte or Nature long can hold the other here for they are almost gone Then if green yeers should somtimes mind the graue the Gray must still that there are with a breath For Age to Death is but the Gally-slaue that on a moments fluxe whafts life to death To serue the World although I able were small cause haue I to will it sith it is The ground which nought but ranckest Ils doth beare and where men most esteemed are most amisse I long haue cultur'd this but flinty-field which yeelds but Crops of Cares Woes wrongs and spight Yeelding the more annoy the more they yeeld whose very Ioyes are Tares that pine the Spright Then it is time to change by heauenly Arte the thriftlesse course of so course Husbandry And with Remorse to furrow vp my Heart melting the Clods with teares that are too dry And so to sow Loues seedes that faire encrease to fat the Soule in vertue till shee melt In flames of Charitie till Faith doth cease to giue more taste of heauenly pleasures selt And sith my Spring is spent my Summer past and to the Fall of leafe my Tyme arriues Nay sith his frost Time on my Head hath cast I must prepare for cold that life depriues My negligence hath made sinnes Earth my Heart to yeeld but poysonous Weeds of thoughts impure Which doe but bane my Soule and get the start of Vertue in their growth by Customes pow'r Meane while my flesh with heat of youth bloud hath shrunke from cherishing their root yet lo The Marrow of my Bones doth yeeld them foode so thogh I shrink they through that compost grow And as one tost at Sea with Stormes and feares makes little way though much he be turmoild So he in vice that past hath many yeeres hath had long time but life as short as soild For Life is measur'd by the good we doe not dayes we spend sith some by many dayes Get many Deaths as some haue come vnto Eternall Life by short Life spent with praise What is a Soulelesse Body but a Clod and what 's the Soule without her cause and life But quicke to Sinne and dead to Grace and God Hell to it selfe selfe-Hell or Hell of strife He is the Way besides which all are wide the Truth against which all in errour dwell The Life without which all in death abide in whom to be is onely to be well O then deare Lord let me beginne to liue now in my dying though hard late it be Yet better late then neuer to reuiue me dead in sinne by mortifying me It 's hard I grant that after life's neere spent in mortall Sinne immortall life t' expect Yet Lord how euer late let me repent while Aire I breathe and doe it not reiect Yet Loue must cause remorse and hate of Sinne for true contrition which true life dorh giue Is caus'd by Loue sith we so bad haue beene t' a God so good that di'd to make vs liue Then loue my Soule for no ends but thine END By-purposes are purposelesse for ONE That knowes all Hearts Remorse doth but offend that is not for his Loue conceiu'd alone Then to be truely contrite hard it is sith it respects but Loue that Grace allures Whereof in but a scruple if we misse it 's but Attrition which lesse Grace procures O Death how sowre is thy rememberance to him whose Soule is swolne with sweetest Sinne And hath thereof a feeling I perchance haue so in shew but more
well And while I liue I le be the leading-Bell That shall thy lowdest Peales of prayses ring Which in the Clouds shall ne'er leaue ecchoing Or be the Trumpet of thy Fame to fill Th' Aetheriall Lofts with Straines more lofty still That when Times wings his Funerall flame consumes Thy Fame shall soare with faire vnsinged Plumes An Epitaph on the death of the right vertuous Lady Liegh sole Daughter of the same right Honourable Lord Elesmere Lord Chancellor of England which Lady deceased the third day of Aprill Anno Dom. 1612. HEre dead shee lies who while aliue she was was Graces Inne Wits Home and Vertues Rest Whose WORTH was of true Worthinesse a Masse yet well proportion'd for her humble Brest A Wise and Mother as it 's hard to say whose losse was great'st her childrens or her phoares To eyther wisely kinde to each a stay that made one loue the other loue and feare To her all-honour'd Sire she was as deare as she was vertuous which was as the bloud In his Hearts Center which to him is neare yet dearer held his flesh in one so good Who dide as liue she did in grace and peace more laden with good-deeds then idle-dayes Leauing her worth for worthinesse increase for Wiues vnborne to imitate and praise Who had at once two Husbands yet she liu'd of Wisely truth a constant Paragon One Husband heauenly was who hath depriu'd the Earthly of her for himselfe alone Yet yer he had her bought her with his Bloud But with her bought a World of Womanhood Then maugre Time Death these Lines tho weake May leade all Times all good of her to speake Here Muse now close the Paper-tombes of these Two vertuous Soules and Bodyes Aunt and Neece with this A good Name is better then a good Ointment and the day of death then the day that one is borne Eccles. 7.3 The Picture of an happy Man HOw blest is he though euer crost that can all Crosses Blessings make That findes himselfe ere he be lost and lose that found for Vertues sake Yea blest is he in life and death that feares not Death nor loues this Life That sets his Will his Wit beneath and hath continuall peace in strife That striueth but with fraile-Desire desiring nothing that is ill That rules his Soule by Reasons Squire and workes by Wisedomes Compasse still That nought obserues but what preserues his minde and body from offence That neyther Courts nor Seasons serues and learnes without experience That hath a Name as free from blot as Vertues Brow or as his life Is from the least suspect or spot although he liues without a Wife That doth in spight of all debate possesse his Soule in Patience And pray in loue for all that hate and hate but what doth giue Offence Whose Soule is like a Sea too still that rests though mou'd yet mou'd at least With loue and hate of good and ill to whaft the Minde the more to Rest. That singly doth and doubles not but is the same he seemes and is Still simply so and yet no Sot but yet not knowing ought amisse That neuer Sinne concealed keepes but shewes the same to God or moe Then euer for it sighes and weepes and ioyes in Soule for grieuing so That by himselfe doth others mete and of himselfe still meekely deemes That neuer sate in Scorners Seate but as himselfe the worst esteemes That loues his body for his Soule Soule for his Minde his Minde for God God for himselfe and doth controule CONTENT if It with him be odde That to his Soule his Sense subdues his Soule to Reas'n and Reas'n to Faith That Vice in Vertues shape eschewes and both by Wisedome rightly waigt'h That rests in action acting nought but what is good in deed and shew That seekes but God within his thought and thinkes but God to loue and know That all vnseene sees All like Him and makes good vse of what he sees That notes the tracts and trickes of Time and flees with th' one the other flees That liues too low for Enuies lookes and yet too high for loth'd Contempt Who makes his Friends Good-men and Bookes and nought without them doth attempt That liues as dying liuing yet in death for life he hath in hope As far from State as sinne and debt of happie life the meanes and scope That feares no frownes nor cares for fawnes of Fortunes fauorits or foes That neither checkes with Kings nor Pawnes and yet still winnes what Checkers lose That euer liues a light to All though oft obscured like the Sunne And though his Fortunes be but small yet Fortune doth not seeke nor shunne That neuer lookes but grace to finde nor seekes for knowledge to be knowne That makes a Kingdome of his Minde wherein with God he raignes alone This Man is great with little state Lord of the World Epitomiz'd Who with staid Front out-faceth Fate and being emptie is suffic'd Or is suffic'd with little sith at least He makes his Conscience a continuall Feast This Life is but Death THogh Fire by warmth cheers life great heat brings death though good Aire life detaines bad life defines Though Water stayes our thirst it stops our breath though fruitfull Earth doth feede the barren pines Too-much o'er-fils too-little feebles life Wealth wants not Cares Want wants all but Cares Solenesse brings sadnesse Company but strife and sodaine Ioyes doe kill as well as feares Meane mirth is rationall extreame is mad no good so good but here it 's mixt with ill Nay too much goodnesse is exceeding bad yea bad if blinde it be is true Good-will And saue the High'st our highest gaine is losse Then life 's but death where al things are so crosse True Wealth THat Grace that neyther wonders grieues nor ioyes at Fortunes vtmost seeking but to finde What Bounty still in action best imployes nor wailes the want that beggers not the Minde That neyther grieuing sighes nor ioying sings that shines most glorious in most gloomy dayes Pleas'd with the state her owne endeuour brings that droupes not with defame nor swels with praise That scornes Disdaine disdaining nought but vice and Greatnesse rates by Goodnesse doing nought But good for ill and that for auarice of goodnesse onely by her onely sought That Time and Wealth well spent doth not deplore This is that Wealth without which Wealth is poore An Angel-like Man HE which prouokt endures as borne to beare and lookes alike in greatest weale and woe That so loues good that ill he nought doth feare and ebbes in Minde when Fortunes most doe slow That bounds Desire with lesse than he enioyes for onely nothing's lesse then Nature needes That holds all Vertues deare all else but toyes and meekely scowres Prides rust from his bright deeds That 's better than hee seemes yet seemes the best but without scandall seekes to seeme the worst That quell'd with Crosses thinkes him highly blest and for the Blisse of all would dye accurst In
kill But here 's the ods those in close-prison pend are there with Death much more familiar made So that in fauor he their griefes doth end for endlesse ioyes and peace which cannot fade But those that loosely haue the World at will doe take their swinge as Fish if hang'd desire Till they be tirde with Pleasure paining still then gently come to Hand so to the Fire And see how those that care consum'd doe climbe at Sternes of State still menac'd to be riu'n How publicke Toyles engrosse their priuate time that they can scarse a Moment spare for Heau'n And publicke Persons if they mightie be the publicke state and theirs they still must eye So to their Soules they scarse haue time to sâ—e which so neglected oft vnwares doe dye Then noble Lord if in thy selfe confinde thou art most happy thus confinde to be And sith our Bodyes doe but Iaile our Minde while we haue Bodyes we can ne'er be free Then if thou weigh'st the volubilitie of Time or Fauour Fortune or this ALL Thou wilt but lothe their loose vncertaintie for hardly Ought doth rise but soone to fall Who rul'd this Realme three thousand yeeres agone so many rul'd it since that none doth know A Plow-mans bloud in time ascends a Throne And Royall Bloud descends vnto the Plow Yet that King knowes not from the Cart he came much lesse that Carter knowes he came from Kings But Times vicissitude is Fortunes game whose Rest puts vp and downe all eathly Things Then if wee looke on Life how fraile is that resembled to a shadow of a Dreame To smoake t' a thought to nought t'I wot not what farre lesse then nought that can so much as seeme A Grape-seede one an Haire another spils some Smoak doth choake meer neeâ—ing some destroy Some other Choler and some laughter kils some feare which is strange some die with ioy So that when our last Graine is running out no Graine so small but turnes our flesh to dust Be we as Giants strong as Lyons stout all 's lesse then nothing then to nought we must The Graue too like a Ierfe doth nought but fill his greedy Panch straight out-straines the same Then fill againe then straines then fill it still till it all Flesh consumes that Nature frames One rots therein to giue another place a second to a third and so forth on Till Earth yeeld vp her dead and she embrace her funerall flame to leaâ—e Corruption Then sith that Life and Flesh so soone decay why should our flesh with life be long in loue This world is but an Inne this Life a Way a wrackfull way that Wisedome lothes to proue Which hath of yore made Kings to quit their Crowneâ— the lighter so the Way of life to runne Directed by the Crosse o'er Dales and Downes in priuate Pathes the publike Toyles to shunne We like to Fooles or Babes for Bables long wherewith we hurt ourselâ—es and others oft Yet straight we whyne if they from vs be wroong our Natures towards Folly are so soft But our all-wise-celestiall-louing Sire takes or keepes from his Children which he loues All that may harme them though they it desire but giues though it displease them what behoues Some long for State and what is that but strife more full of trouble then it is of State With dangers mixt a simple Hell of life which none doe loue but those that rest doe hate Some loue to beare the most imbrued Swords before the Maiestie of Victory And what are they but Butchers made of Lords that like fiends Lord it o'er Calamitie Some hidden Artes doe openly desire and seeke for knowledge onely to be knowne But knowledge such is light but of Hell-fire to see with Eue such Prides confusion Some fame affect and for it venter farre seeking by Sea and Land the same finde But Fame most followes those that flee from her and oft who meets her she o'erthrowes with wind In summeâ— both all and some ô strangest Case haue hurtfull humours which if not restrain'd By him that is the Lord of pow'r and Grace all would to nought where Grace should ne'er 〈◊〉 gain'd Then if our Flesh and Sinne-corrupted Blouds could rightly feele they well might see thâ—t Hand That made vs will not marre vs with his goods vnlesse our selues his powerfull Grace with-stand Our dearest Sense is Sight yet if the same offend that Grace we must pull out our Eyes Then must we Limbes of lesse account vnframe much more Things lesse if they against It rise The greatest Crosse is neuer to be crost the Way to Heau'n is by the Ports of Hell The Waters most corrupt that least are tost and their account exceedes who most excell Hee 's rich enough for Vertues choisest friend that neither needes to flatter nor to borrow To lade our Backes with Baggage till they bend wandring in stumbling-wayes augments our soâ—row Abundance is a Burden to the Soule and strongest Soules can hardly it abide For Men that being meane could Pride controule be'ing mightie made are most controul'd by Pride Nature 's suffiz'd with Nothing in respect of that our Wolfe-like Appetites require And they as Naturals great-men reiect whose Soules haue not the pow'r of great Desire But greatest Men haue not still greatest Grace ah would they had then shouldst thou soone be free From thy restraint and all desires are base of Greatnesse that with Goodnesse disagree I wade too farre perhaps in Dangers Deepes that may o'erwhelme the rash though ne'er so tall But Truth 's my Guide and Care my Footing keepes on double Duties Ground and firme in all Yet wot how ill it stands with Policie to fancy those whom Times disfauour most Sith Fancies such acquire but Ielousie if not much worse of those that rule the Roste. For Wise-men shift their Sailes as Winde doth shift and but whom Fortune fauours fauour none For if Kings haue with Fortune beene at shrift they leaue them to their Penance post alone But I conceiue it a prodigious Sinne like that of Iudas Peters I would say Who left his Lord when trouble he was in which in effect is meerely to betray I feare not Iustice sith shee doth command that we should loue our friends in spight of Fate And to the Alter with them goe or stand though we might therefore be o'erthrowne with hate Then Iustice warrants me in what I doe and I will doe but what selfe-Iustice would That 's loue my Liege obey and serue him too yet loue that Lord that likes me as I should Let him haue neuer friend that leaues his friend in shew of sound affection in distresse And let high'st Wit to lowest Hell descend that weighs ought more then some friends heauines Let those that waite on Fortune weigh the Times in Scoles of greatest Sculs I little i Doe little weigh the wayes how other climbes sith I would liue as longing well to dye Beyond my Birth hath Fortune beene my foe she neuer
then themselues enthrone to ouer-sway the Paines that Flesh annoy Then is this Peace and War true Heau'n Hell Where Paine and Pleasure doe themselues excell A wounded Conscience who can beare SAlues Sores doe cure and Medicines Maladies Friendship Oppression Wâ—sed me poore Estate Fauour Restraint and Timâ— Captiuitiâ—s Good life Reproch and louing Manners Hate But these nor ought else that are â—â—st or best except the Highest grace hâ—uâ— pâ—w'r to cure A wounded spirit with Sadnesse stâ—â—l opprest but It doth Death out-liue and Hell oâ—â— dure Were our Meate Manna our Weâ—des Salomons Monarches our Friends and Eden our Free-hold Our Guardes Gâ—â—iaâ—s our Seatesâ— highst Thrones our Houses Siluer hung with Pearle and Gold All these and all what else can Sense delight Doe rather kill than cure a wounded Spirit Death makes Things appeare as they are ENuy and Anger haue some Wise-meâ— kil'd though in those Passions we hold no man wise As fauour and base flatt'ry Fooles haue spild for with them both we Fooles doe Nestorize But when these moodes are with the Parties dead then were they Fooles who wer so wise while-ere And Thâ—y most wise that Fooles were reckoned thus Death doth make Things as they are appeare Flatt'ry adornes Mens Fortunes not the Men and Enuy not their Persons but their Fames Doth seeke to wound so it appeareth then that Wise nor Fooles haue here their proper Names But in the Font of Death they doe receiue Their naked Names which their true Natures giue God and Conscience tels truely what we are and are not as we seeme WHat thou art aske thine Hart and it wil show or aske a Foe that Conscience makes to lie But aske thou noâ— self-Selfe-loue which cannot know noâ— aske a Friend which can no â—ault espie If we could see our selues then should we see that we are nothing lesse then what we seeme Yet some seeme farre worse than in Deed they be and therefore All this Some doe not esteeme For we know nothing wholy but in part and vnderstand but what we know by Sense We see the Face but cannot see the Heart then showes betray our best Intelligence This makes all wise men that such Secrets know To winne the World a Shadow with a Show That Truth being One and still the same is made by wicked mâ—n to countenance Falshood which is manifold and still vnlike WHen Peace Truth do iarre Peace is not peace then Peace in Truth is that we should ensue Now for this Truth what Warres and Iarres encrease these Times doe â—eele and After-times may rue Yet no Man 's so vniust that will auerre he fights for Falshood but for Truth and Right So iust some say is eu'ry vniust Warre thus Truth is made to countenance each Fight Who euer yet for Heresie hath dide but saith for Truth he dies and so beleeues Or what Sect saith not Truth is on their side so Truth is made a Diuell that deceiues But Truth is God vnmade who in the end Will damne them all that make him such a Fiend That we are naturally bent to Ill but supernaturally to Goodnesse TWixt Sinne and Grace I tost am to and fro as mine Affections please to bandy me From Grace to Sinne I flye but backe I goe and yet I goe as one that faine would flee Nature doth moue the Wings of my Desire to Sinne-wards nimbly but not so to Grace For then she limes them with my fleshes myre that I am forc'd to passe an heauy pace Yet still I stirre those Wings and seeke to breake faile fleshes Bands too strong for me too fraile Who though sometimes I faile of what I seeke yet seeke I what I finde and neuer faile For none seekes Grace that hath not Grace in hold Then Seekers find though oft lesse then they would Abuse is familiar with humane Flesh and Bloud MInding this World I muse at what I minde though It vnworthy be of Minde or Muse I muse that Men are to It so inclinde sith It mindes nought but how Men to abuse From high to low Abuse doth proudly raigne from which the Preist that leads all is not free The Holy hold the Holy in disdaine if with their state their states doe not agree Vertue or Vice are held or good or ill as in this World they thriue or ill or well For Vice is honor'd more then Vertue still if Vices Mannors Vertues doe excell If Manors good doe what good Maners ought That 's make men great great men are made of nought That it is farre better not Be then to be Ill. THe World the Wombe where all misdeeds are bred breedes in my little World such great offence That my Soule great with Sinne 's deliuered of Griefe that gaules my bleeding Conscience The Mid-wife Flesh that did the same produce giues it the Nurse curst Nature it to feede And fattens It with full-Breasts of Abuse so Griefe growes great with Natures grosse misdeeds O Nature Nurse of my Soules foule Disgrace ô World the Nurse of that Nurse grounds of grief Why doe you giue me being time and place sith you doe worse then kill me with reliefe For that reliâ—se that doth but nourish Sinne Makes our Case worse then if we ne'er had bin Sinne and Grace cannot dwell in one place IF Faith beleeu'd that Creede that Essence giues her then would she giue the Soule what that doth giue Faith 's made to know and doe that which relieues her for by her actiue knowledge she doth liue But oft the Soule though Faith be still her Ghest makes Sinne her Steward to prouide her Foode How then can Faith such banefull Bits digest which but contaminate her vitall Bloud Can Faith and Sinne if they be full in force dwell as if friends they were in one weake Heart No one will other from the same diuorce for Sou'raignes part with life ere Lordship part Then want of Faith with grosse Sin is supplide For Nature vacuum could ne'er abide In rainy-gloomy Weather THis Weather 's like my troubled Minde and Eyes the one being sad the other full of Teares And as Winde oft the often Showrings dryes so Sighes my Teares dry vp and kindle Cares Sighes please and paine the displeas'd painfull Heart they please in giuing vent to Griefes vp-pent And yet the Heart they ease they cause to smart so Griefes encrease as Sighes doe giue them vent But were my Minde thus sad but for my Crimes and mine Eyes turn'd to Teares for cause so deare Or did my Heart for that sith often times my Sighes my Teares my Sadnesse blessed were But t is sith Hope my Ship through Fates crosse-waue Now grates vpon the Grauell of my Graue Our Wits are vnable to please our Wils THis Life is but a Laborynth of Ils whose many Turnings so amaze our Mindes that out of Them our Wit no issue findes But what our Sense commands our Wit fulfils Yet Sense being tired with deceitfull Ioyes that fleete as soone as felt prouokes the