not heare O is thy wonted love become so cold Or do mine eyes not seek thee where they should Why do I seek thee if thou art not here Or find thee not if thou art ev'ry where I see my errour 'T is not strange I could not Find out my love I sought him where I should not Thou art not found in downy beds of ease Alas thy musick strikes on harder keyes Nor art thou found by that false feeble light Of Natures candle Our Aegyptian night Is more then common darknesse nor can we Expect a morning but what breaks from thee Well may my empty bed bewail thy losse When thou art lodg'd upon thy shamefull crosse If thou refuse to share a bed with me We 'll never part I 'll share a crosse with thee ANSELM in Protolog cap. 1. Lord if thou art not present where shall I seek thee absent If every where why do I not see thee present Thou dwellest it light inaccessible and where is that inaccessible light Or 〈◊〉 shall I have accesse to light inaccessible I beseech thee Lord teach me to seek thee and shew thy self to the seeker because I can neither seek thee unlesse thou teach me not find tâ—…e unlesse thou shew thy self to me Let me seek thee in deâ—… thee and desire thee in seeking thee Let me find thee it loving thee and love thee in finding thee EPIG. 10. Where shouldst thou seek for rest but in thy bed But now thy rest is gone thy rest is fled 'T is vain to seek him there My soul be wise Go ask thy sinnes they 'll tell thee where he lies XI CANTICLES 3. 2. I will rise and go about in the City and will seek him that my soul loveth I sought him but I found him not 1 O How my disappointed soul 's perplext How restlesse thoughts swarm in my troubled breast How vainly pleas'd with hopes then crossely vext With fears and how betwixt them both distrest What place is left unransack'd Oh where next Shall I go seek the Authour of my rest Of what blest Angel shall my lips enquire The undiscover'd way to that entire And everlasting solace of my hearts desire 2 Look how the stricken Hart that wounded flies Ov'r hills and dales and seeks the lower grounds For running streams the whilst his weeping eyes Peg silent mercy from the following Hounds At length embost he droops drops down and lies Beneath the burden of his bleeding wounds Ev'n so my gasping foul dissolv'd in tears Doth search for thee my God whose deafned ears Leave me th' unransom'd Prisner to my panick fears 3 Where have my busie eyes not pry'd O where Of whom hath not my thred-bare tongue demanded I search'd this glorious City he 's not here I sought the Countrey she stands empty handed I search'd the Court he is a stranger there I ask'd the land he 's shipp'd the sea he 's landed I climb'd the air my thoughts began t' aspire But ah the wings of my too bold desire Soaring too near the Sunne were sing'd with sacred fire 4 I mov'd the Merchants eare alas but he Knew neither what I said nor what to say I ask'd 〈◊〉 Lawyer he demands a fee And theâ—… demurrs me with a vain delay I ask'd the Schoolman his advice was free But scor'd me out too intricate a way I ask'd the Watch-man best of all the soure Whose gentle answer could resolve no more But that he lately left him at the Temple doore 5 Thus having sought and made my great inquest In evâ—…y place and search'd in ev'ry ear I threw me on my bed but ah my rest Was poyson'd with th' extremes of grief and fear Where looking down into my troubled breast The Magazine of wounds I found him there Let othâ—…rs hunt and shew their sportfull Art I wiâ—…h to catch the â—…are before she start As Potchers use to do Heav'ns form 's a troubled heart S. AMBROS. lib. 3. de Virg. Christ is not in the market not in the streets For Christ is Peace in the market are strife Christ is Justice in the 〈◊〉 is iniquitie Christ is a Labourer in the market 〈◊〉 Christ is Charity in the market is slander Christ is Charity in the market is fraud Let us not therefore seek 〈◊〉 where we cannot find Christ S. HIERON. Ep. 22. ad Eustoch. Jesus is jealous He will not have thy face seen Let foolish 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 abroad seek thou thy Love at home EPIG. 11. What lost thy love will neither bed nor board Receive him Not by tears to be implor'd It is the Ship that moves and not the Coast I fear I fear my soul 't is thou art lost XII CANTICLES 3. 3. Have you seen him whom my soul loveth When I had past a little from them then I sound him I took hold on him left him not 1 WHat secret corner what unwonted way Has scap'd the ransack of my rambling thought The Fox by night nor the dull Owl by day Have never search'd those places I have sought Whilst thy lamented absence taught my breast The ready road to grief without request My day had neither comfort nor my night had rest 2 How hath my unregarded language vented The sad tautologies of lavish passion How often have I languish'd unlamented How oft have I complain'd without compassion I ask't the Citie-watch but some deny'd me The common street whilst others would misguide me Some would debar me some divert me some deride me 3 Mark how the widow'd Turtle having lost The faithfull partner of her loyall heart Stretches â—…er feeble wings from coast to câ—…ast Haunts ev'ry path thinks ev'ry shade doth paâ—…t Her absent Love and her at length uâ—…sped She re-betakes her to her lonely bed And there bewails her everlasting widow-head 4 So when my soul had progrest ev'ry place That love and dear affection could contrive I threw me on my couch resolv'd t' embrace A death for him in whom I ceas'd to live But there injurious Hymen did present His lanskip joyes my pickled eyes did vent Full streams of briny tears tears never to be spent 5 Whilst thus my sorrow-wasting soul was seeding Upon the rad'cal humour of her thought Ev'n whilst mine eyes were blind and heart was bleeding He that was sought unfound was found unsought As if the Sun should dart his orbe of light Into the secrets of the black-brow'd night Ev'n so appear'd my Love my sole my souls delight 6 O how mine eyes now ravish'd at the sight Of my bright Sun shot flames of equall fire Ah! how my soul dissolv'd with ov'r-delight To re-enjoy the Crown of chast desire How sov'reigne joy depos'd and dispossest Rebellious grief And how my ravish'd breast But who can presle those heights that cannot be exprest 7 O how these arms these greedy arms did twine And strongly twist about his yielding wast The sâ—…ppy branches of the Thespian Vine Nev'r cling'd their lesse beloved Elm so fast Boast not thy flames blind boy nor feather'd shot
live See what thy sinnes have done thy sinnes have made The Sunne of Glory now become thy shade XV PSALM 137. 4. How shall we sing a song of the Lord in a strange land URge me no more this aity mirth belongs To better times these times are not for songs The sprightly twang of the melodious Lute 〈◊〉 not with my voice and both unsuit My untun'd fortunes the affected measure Of strains that are constrain'd 〈◊〉 no pleasure Musick 's the Child of mirth where griefs assail The troubled soul both voyce and fingers fail Let such as ravil out their lavish dayes In honourable riot that can raise Dejected hearts and conjure up a sprite Of madnesse by the Magick of delight Let those of Cupids hospitall that lie Impatient Patients to a smiling eye That cannot rest untill vain hope beguile Their 〈◊〉 torments with a wanton smile Let such redeem their peace and salve the wrongs Of froward Fortune with their frolick songs My grief my grief 's too great for smiling eyes To cure or counter 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 The Ravens dismall croaks the midnight bowls Of empty Wolues mixt with the 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 The nine sad knowls of a dull passing Bell With the loud language of a nightly knell And horrid out-cries of revenged crimes Joyn'd in a medley's musick for these times These are no times to touch the merry string Of Orpheus no these are no times to sing Can hide-bound Prisners that have spent their souls And famish'd bodies in the noysome holes Of hell-black dungeons apt their rougher throats Grown hoarse with begging alms to warble notes Can the sad Pilgrime that hath lost his way In the vast desart there condemn'd a prey To the wild subject or his savage King Rouze up his palsey smitten spir'ts and sing Can I a Pilgrime and a Prisner too Alas where I am neither known nor know Ought but my torments an unransom'd stranger In this strange climate in a land of danger O can my voyce be pleasant or my hand Thus made a Prisner to a forrein land How can my musick relish in your cars That cannot speak for sobs nor sing for tears Ah if my voyce could Orpheus-like unspell My poore Eurydice my soul from hell Of earths misconstru'd Heav'n O then my breast Should warble airs whose rhapsodies should feast The ears of Seraphims and entertain Heav'ns highest Deity with their lofty strain A strain well drencht in the true Thespian Well Till then earths Semiquaver mirth farewell S. AUGUST Med. cap. 33. O infinitely happy are those Heavenly virtues which are able 〈◊〉 praise thee in holinesse and puritie with excessive sweetnesse 〈◊〉 able exultation From thence they praise thee from whence they rejoyce because they continually see for what they rejoyce for what they praise thee But we prest down with this burden of flesh far removed from thy countenance in this pilgrimage and blown up with worldly vanities cannot worthily praise thee We praise thee by faith nor face to face but those Angelicall spirits praise thee face to face and not by saith EPIO. 15. Did I refuse to sing said I these times Were not for songs nor musick for these climes It was my errour are not grones and tears Harmonious raptures in th' Almighties ears THE FIFTH BOOK I. CANTICLES 5. 8. I charge you O daughters of Jerusalem if you find my beloved that you tell him that I am sick of love 1 YOu holy Virgins that so oft surround The cities Saphire walls whose snowy feet Measure the pearly paths of sacred ground And trace the new Jerus'lems Jasper street Ah you whose care-forsaken hearts are crown'd With your best wishes that enjoy the sweet Of all your hopes If e'r you chance to spie My absent Love O tell him that I lie Deep wounded with the flames that furnac'd from his eye 2 I charge you Virgins as you hope to heare The heav'nly musick of your Lovers voice I charge you by the solemne faith ye bear To plighted vows and to that loyall choice Of your affections or if ought more dear You hold by Hymen by your marriage joyes I charge you tell him that a flaming dart Shot from his eye hath pierc'd my bleeding heart And I am sick of love and languish in my smart 3 Tell him O tell him how my panting breast Is 〈◊〉 with flames and how my soul is pin'd Tell him O tell him how I he opprest With the full torments of a troubled mind O tell him tell him that he loves in jest But I in earnest tell him he 's unkind But if a discontented frown appears Upon his angry brow accoast his ears With soft and fewer words and act the rest in tears 4 O tell him that his cruelties deprive My soul of peace while peace in vain she seeks Tell him those damask roses that did strive With white both fade upon my sallow cheeks Tell him no token doth proclaim I live But tears and sighs and sobs and sudden shrieks Thus if your piercing words should chance to bore His hearkning ear and move a sigh give ore To speak and tell him Tell him that I could no more 5 If your elegious breath should hap to rouze A happy tear close harb'ring in his eye Then urge his plighted faith the sacred vows Which neither I can break nor he deny Bewail the torments of his loyall spouse That for his sake would make a sport to die O blessed Virgins how my passion tires Beneath the burden of her fond desires Heav'n never shot such flames earth never felt such fires S. AUGUST Med. cap. 40. What shall I say What shall I do Whither shall I go Where shall I seek him Or when shall I find him Whom shall I ask Who will tell my beloved that I am sick of love 〈◊〉 in Cap. 5. Cant. I live but not I it is my beloved that liveth in me I love my self not with my own love but with the love of my beloved that loveth me I love not my self in my self but my self in him and him in me EPIG. 1. Grieve not my soul nor let thy love wax faint Weep'st thou to lose the cause of thy complaint He 'll come Love ne'r was bound to times nor laws Till then thy tears complain without a cause II. CANTICLES 2. 5. Stay me with flowers and comfort me with apples for I am sick with loveâ—… 1 O Tyrant love I how doth thy sov'reigne pow'r Subject poore souls to thy imperious thrall They say thy cup 's compos'd of sweet and sowre They say thy diet 's honey mixt with gall How comes it then to passe these lips of our Still trade in bitter tast no sweet at all O tyrant love Shall our perpetuall toil Ne'r find a Sabbath to refresh awhile Our drooping souls Art thou all frowns and ne'r a smile 2 You blessed Maids of honour that frequent The royall courts of our renown'd Jehove With flow'rs restore my spirits faint and spent O fetch me apples from Loves
towre Above the sent of these inferiour things How happy is the Lark that ev'ry howre Leaves earth and then for joy mounts up and sings Had my dull soul but wings as well as they How I would spring from earth and clip away As wise Astrea did and scorn this ball of clay 3 O how my soul would spurn this ball of clay And loath the dainties of earths painfull pleasure O how I 'de laugh to see men night and day Turmoyl to gain that trash they call their treasure O how I 'de smile to see what plots they lay To catch a blast or own a smile from Cesar Had I the pineons of a mounting Dove How I would sore and sing and hate the love Of transitory toyes and feed on joyes above 4 There should I find that everlasting pleasure Which change removes not which chance prevents not There should I find that everlasting treasure Which force deprives not fortune dis-augments not There should I sind that everlasting Cesar Whose hand recalls not and whose heart repents not Had I the pineons of a clipping Dove How I would climb the skies and hate the love Of transitory toyes and joy in things above 5 No rank-mouth'd slander there shall give offence Or blast our blooming names as here they do No liver-scalding lust shall there incense Our boyling veins There is no Cupids bow Lord give my soul the milk-white innocence Of Doves and I shall have their pineons too Had I the pineons of a sprightly Dove How I would quit this earth and sore above And Heav'ns blest kingdome find with Heav'ns blest King Jehove S. AUGUST in Psal. 128. What wings should I desire but the two precepts of love on which the Law and the Prophets depend O if I could obtain these wings I could fly from thy sace to thy face from the face of thy Justice to the face of thy Mercy Let us find those wings by love which we have lost by lust S. AUGUST in Psal. 76. Let us cast off whatsoever hindereth entangleth or burdeneth our flight untill we attain that which satisfieth beyond which nothing is beneath which all things are of which all things are EPIG. 13. Tell me my wishing soul didst ever trie How fast the wings of red-crost faith can slie Why begg'st thou then the pineons of a Dove Faiths wings are swifter but the swiftest love XIV PSALM 84. 1. How amiable are thy Tabernacles O God of Hosts ANcient of dayes to whom all times are Now Before whose Glory Seraphims do bow Their blushing cheeks and veil their blemisht faces That uncontain'd at once dost fill all places How glorious O how farre beyond the height Of puzzled quils or the obtuse conceit Of flesh and bloud or the too flat reports Of mortall tongues are thy expreslesse courts Whose glory to paint forth with greater Art Ravish my fancy and inspire my heart Excuse my bold attempt and pardon me For shewing sense what faith alone should see Ten thousand millions and tne thousand more Of angel-measur'd leagues from th' Eastern shore Of dungeon earth this glorious Palace stands â—…efore whose pearly gates ten thousand bands Of armed angels wait to entertain Those purged souls for whom the Lamb was slain Whose guilâ—…lesse death and voluntary yielding Of whose giv'n life gave this brave court her building The lukewarm bloud of this dear Lamb being spilt To rubies turn'd whereof her posts were built And what dropt down in cold and gelid gore Did turn rich Saphyres and impav'd her floore The brighter flames that from his ey-balls ray'd Grew Chrysolites whereof her walls were made The milder glances sparkled on the ground And groundsild every doore with Diamond But dying darted upwards and did fix A battlement of purest Sardonix Her streets with burnisht gold are paved round Starres lie like pebbles scattred on the ground Pearl mixt with Onyx and the Jasper stone Made gravell'd causwayes to be tâ—…ampled on There shines no Sun by day no Moon by night The Pallace glory is the Pallace light There is no time to measure motion by There Time is swallow'd with Eternitie Wry-mouth'd Disdain and corner-haunting Lust And twy-sac'd Fraud and beetle-brow'd Distrust Soul-boyling Rage and trouble-state Sedition And giddy Doubt and goggle-ey'd Suspition And lumpish Sorrow and degen'rous Fear Are banisht thence and Death 's a stranger there But simple Love and sempiternall Joyes Whose sweetnesse neither gluts nor fulnesse cloyes Where face to face our ravish't eye shall see Great Eâ—…OHIM that glorious One in Three And Three in One and seeing him shall blesse him And blessing love him and in love possesse him Here stay my soul and ravish in relation Thy words being spent spend now in contemplation S. GREG. in Psal. 7. poenitent Sweet Jesus the word of the Father the brightnesse of paternall glory whom Angels delight to view teach me to do thy will that led by thy good Spirit I may come to that blessed Citie where day is eternall where there is certain securitie and secure eternitie and eternall peace and peacefull happinesse and happy sweetnesse and sweet pleasure where thou O God with the Father and the holy Spirit livest and reignest world without end Ibid. There is light without darknesse joy without grief desire without punishment love without sadnesse 〈◊〉 without loathing safetie without fear health without disease and life without death EPIG. 14. My soul pry not too nearly the complexion Of Sols bright face is seen but by reslexion But wouldst thou know what 's heav'n I 'll tell thee what Think what thou canst not think and heav'n is that XV CANTICLES 8. 14. Make hast my Beloved and be like the Roe or the young Hart upon the mountains of Spices GO gentle tyrant go thy flames do pierce My soul to deep thy flames are too too fiâ—…rce My marrow melts my fainting spirits fry I' th' torrid Zone of thy Meridian eye Away away thy sweets are too perfuming Turn turn thy face thy fires are too consuming Hast hence and let thy winged steps out-go The frighted Ro-buck and his flying Ro. But wilt thou leave me then O thou that aâ—…t Life of my soul soul of my dying heart Without the sweet aspect of whose fair eyes My soul doth languish and her solace dies Art thou so easily woo'd so apt to heare The frantick language of my foolish fear Leave leave me not nor turn thy beauty from me Look look upon me though thine eyes o'rcome me O how they wound but how my wounds content me How sweetly these delightfull pains torment me How I am tortur'd in excessive measure Of pleasing cruelties too cruel pleasure Turn turn away remove thy scorching beams I languish with these bitter-sweet extremes Hast then and let thy winged steps out-go The flying Ro-buck and his frighted Ro. Turn back my dear O let my ravisht eye Once more behold thy face before thou fly What shall we part without a mutuall kisse O who can leave so sweet a face
Bees do bring Honey in their mouths but in their tails a sting IV. PSALM 62. 9. To be laid in the ballance it is altogether lighter then vanitie 1 PUt in another weight 'T is yet too light And yet Fond Cupid put another in And yet another Still there 's under weight Put in another hundred Put agin Adde world to world then heap a thousand more To that then to renew thy wasted store Take up more worlds on trust to draw thy balance lower 2 Put in the flesh with all her loads of pleasure Put in great Mammons endlesse inventory Put in the pond'rous acts of mighty Cesar Put in the greater weight of Swedens glory Adde Sâ—…pio's gauntlet put in Plato's gown Put Circes charms put in the triple crown Thy balance will not draw thy balance will not down 3 Lord what a world is this which day and night Men seek with so much toyl with so much trouble Which weigh'd in equall scales is found so light So poorly over-balanc'd with a bubble Good God! that frantick mortals should destroy Their higher hopes and place their idle joy Upon such airy trash upon so light a toy 4 Thou bold Impostour how hast thou befool'd The tribe of Man with counterfeit dâ—…sire How has the breath of thy false bellows cool'd Heav'ns free-born flames and kindled bastard fire How hast thou vented drosse in stead of treasure And cheated man with thy false weights and measure Proclaiming bad for good and gilding death with pleasure 5 The world 's a craftie Strumpet most affecting And closely following those that most reject her But seeming carelesse nicely disrespecting And coyly flying those that most affect her If thou be free she 's strange if strange she 's free Flee and she follows Follow and she 'll flee Then she there 's none more coy there 's none more fond then she 6 O what a Crocodilian world is this Compos'd of treacheries and ensnaring wiles She cloaths destruction in a foâ—…mall kisse And lodges death in her deceitsull smiles She hugs the soul she hates and there does prove The veriest tyrant where she vowes to love And is a Serpent most when most she seems a Dove 7 Thrice happy he whose nobler thoughts despise To make an object of so easie gains Thrice happy he who scorns so poore a prize Should be the crown of his heroick pains Thrice happy he that ne'r was born to trie Her frowns or smiles or being born did lie In his sad nurses arms an houre or two and die S. AUGUST lib. Confess O you that dote upon this world for what victory do ye sight Your hopes can be crowned with no greater reward then the world can give and what is the world but a brittle thing full of dangers wherein we travel from lesser to greater perils O let all her vain light and momentany glory perish with her self and let us be conversant with more eternall things Alas this world is miserable life is short and death is sure EPIG. 4. My soul what 's lighter then a feather wind Then wind The fire And what then fire The mind What 's lighter then the mind A thought Then thought This bubble-world What then this bubble Nought V. 1. COR. 7. 31. The fashion of this world passeth away GOne are those golden dayes wherein Pale conscience started not at ugly sinne When good old Satuâ—…nes peacefull Throne Was unusurped by his beardlesse Son When jealous Ops ne'r fear'd th' abuse Of her chast bed or breach of nuptiall Truce When just Astraea poys'd her Scales In mortall hearts whose absence earth bewails When froth-born Venus and her brat With all that spurious brood young Jove begat In horrid shapes were yet unknowne Those Halcyon dayes that golden age is gone There was no Client then to wait The leisure of his long-tayl'd Advocate The Talion Law was in request And Chaunc'ry courts were kept in ev'ry brest Abused Statutes had no Tenters And men could deal secure without indentures There was no peeping hole to clear The Wittals eye from his incarnate fear There were no lustfull Cinders then To broyl the Carbonado'd hearts of men The rosie cheek did then proclaim A shame of Guilt but not a guilt of shame There was no whining soul to start At Cuâ—…ids twang or curle his flaming 〈◊〉 The Boy had then but callow wings And fell Erynnis Scorpions had no stings The better-acted world did move Upon the fixed poles of Truth and Love Love essenc'd in the hearts of men Then Reason rul'd there was no Passion then Till Lust and Rage began to enter Love the Circumference was and love the Center Untill the wanton dayes of Iove The simple world was all compos'd of Love But Iove grew fleshly false unjust Inferiour beautie sill'd his veins with lust And Cucquean Iuno's fury hurld Fierce balls of rage into th' incestuous world Astraea fled and love return'd From earth earth boyl'd with lust with rage it burn'd And ever since the world has been Kept going with the scourge of Lust and Spleen S. AMBROS. Lust is a sharp spur to vice which alwayes putteth the affections into a false gallop HUGO Lust is an immoderate wantonnesse of the slesh a sweet poyson a cruel 〈◊〉 a pernicious potion which weakeneth the body of man and esseminateth the strength of an heroick mind S. AUGUST Envy is the hatred of anothers felicitie in respect of Superiours because they are not equall to them in respect of Inseriours lest be should be equall to them in respect of equalls because they are equall to them Through envy proceeded the fall of the world and the death of Christ EPIG. 5. What Cupid must the world be lasht so soon But made at morning and be whipt at noon 'T is like the wagge that playes with Venus Doves The more 't is lasht the more perverse it proves VI ECCLES. 2. 17. All is vanitie and vexation of spirit 1 HOw is the anxious soul of man befool'd In his desire That thinks an Hectick sever may be cool'd In stames of fire Or hopes to rake full heaps of burnisht gold From nasty mire A whining Lover may as well request A scornfull breast To melt in gentle tears as woo the world for rest 2 Let wit and all her studied plots effect The best they can Let smiling Fortune prosper and perfect What wit began Let earth advise with both and so project A happy man Let wit or fawning Fortune vie their best He may be blest With all that earth can give but earth can give no rest 3 Whose gold is double with a carefull hand His cares are double The pleasure honour wealth of sea and land Bring but a trouble The world it self and all the worlds command Is but a bubble The strong desites of mans insâ—…tiate breast May stand possest Of all that earth can give but earth can give no rest 4 The world 's a seeming Par'dise but her own And mans tormenter Appearing sixt yet but a rolling stone
neither want can pinch nor fulnesse cloy Nor double doubt afflicts â—…or baser fear Unflames your courage in pursuit draw near Shake hands with earth and let your soul respect Her joyes no further then her joyes reflect Upon her Makers glory if thou swim In wealth see him in all see all in him Sink'st thou in want and is thy small cruse spent See him in want enjoy him in conâ—…nt Conceiv'st him lodg'd in Crosse or lost in pain In Pray'r and Patience find him out again Make Heav'n thy Mistresse let no change remove Thy loyall heart be fond be sick of love What if he stop his eare or knit his brow At length he 'll be as fond as sick as thou Dart up thy soul in grones Thy secret grone Shall pierce his eare sâ—…all pierce his eare alone Dart up thy soul in vowes Thy sacred vow Shall find him out where Heav'n alone shall know Dart up thy soul in sighs Thy whisp'ring sigh Shall rouse his ears and fear no listner nigh Send up thy grones thy sighs thy closet vow There 's none there 's none shall know but Heav'n and thou Grones fresht with vowes and vowes made salt with tears Unscale his eyes and scale his conquer'd ears Shoot up the bosome shafâ—… of thy desire Feather'd with faith and double-forkt with fire And they wil hit Fear not where Heav'n bids come Heav'ns never deaf but when mans heart is dumb I. ISAIAH 29. 6. My soul hath desired thee in the night GOod God! what horrid darknesse doth surround My groping soul how are my senses bound In utter shades and mufâ—…ed from the light Lusk in the bosome of eternall night The bold-sac'd Lamp of heav'n can set and rise And with his morning glory fill the eyes Of gazing mortalls his victorious ray Can chase the shadows and restore the day Nights bashfull Empresse though she often wain As ost repents her darknesse primes again And with her circling horns doth re-embrace Her brothers wealth and orbs her silver face But ah my Sun deep swallow'd in his fall Is set and cannot shine nor rise at all My bankrupt wain can beg nor borrow light Alas my darknesse is perpetuall night Falls have their risings wainings have their primes And desp'rate sorrows wait their better times Ebs have their Floods and Autumnes have their Springs All States have changes hurried with the swings Of Chance and Time still tiding to and fro Terrestriall bodies and celestiall too How often have I vainly grop'd about With length'ned arms to find a passage out That I might catch those beams mine eye desires And bath my soul in those celestiall fires Like as the 〈◊〉 cloyster'd in her mue To scowr her downy robes and to renâ—… Her broken flags preparing t' overlook The tim'rous Mallard at the sliding brook Jeâ—… oft from perch to perch from stock to ground From ground to window thus surveying round Her dove-befeath'red Prison till at length Calling her noble birth to mind and strength Whereto her wing was born her ragged beak Nips off her dangling jesses strives to break Her gingling fetters and begins to bate At ev'ry glimpse and darts at ev'ry grate Ev'n so my weary soul that long has bin An Inmate in this Tâ—…nement of sin Lockt up by cloud-brow'd Errour which invites My cloystred thoughts to feed on black delights Now scorns her shadows and begins to dart Her wing'd desires at thee that onely art The Sun she seeks whose rising beams can fright These duskie clouds that make sâ—… dark a night Shine forth great Glory shine that I may see Both how to loath my self and honour Thee But if my weaknesse force thee to deny Thy flames yet lend the twilight of thine eye If I must want those Beams I wish yet grant That I at least may wish those Beams I want S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 33. There was a great and dark cloud of vanitie before mine eyes so that I could not see the Sun of Justice and the Light of Truth I being the sonne of darknesse was involved in darknesse I loved my darknesse because I knew not thy light I was blind and loved my blindnesse and did walk from darknesse to darknesse But Lord thou art my God who hast led me from darknesse and the shadow of death â—…ast called me into this glorious light and behold I see EPIG. I. My soul chear up what if the night be long Heav'n finds an eare when sinners find a tongue Thy tears are morning show'rs Heav'n bids me say When Peters cock begins to crow 't is day II. PSALM 69. 3. O Lord thou knowest my foolishnesse and my sinnes are not hid from thee SEest thou this fulsome Ideot In what measure He seems transported with the antick pleasure Of childish baubles canst thou but admire The empty fulnesse of his vain desire Canst thou conceive such poore delights as these Can fill th' insatiate soul of man or please The fond aspect of his deluded eye Reader such very fools are thou and I False puffs of honour the deceitfull streams Of wealth the idle vain and empty dreams Of pleasure are our traffick and ensnare Our souls the threefold subject of our care We toyl for trash we barter solid joyes For airy trâ—…s sell our Heav'n for toyes We snatch at barly grains whilst pearls stand by Despis'd such very fools art thou and I Aym'st thou at honour does not the Ideot shake it In his left hand fond man step forth and take it Or would'st thou wealth see how the fool presents thee With a full basket if such wealth contents thee Wouldst thou take pleasure if the fool unstride His prauncing Stallion thou mayst up and 〈◊〉 Fond man such is the pleasure wealth and honour The earth affords such fools as dote upon her Such is the game whereat â—…ths ideots sly Such ideots ah such fools are thou and I Had rebell-mans fool-hardinesse extended No further then himself and there had ended It had been just but thus enrag'd to sly Upon th' eternall eyes of Majesty And drag the Son of Glory from the breast Of his indulgent Father to aâ—… rest His great and sacred Person in disgrace To spit and spaul upon his Sun bright face To taunt him with base terms and being bound To scourge his soft his trembling sides to wound His head with thorns his heart with humane 〈◊〉 His hands with nails and his pale slank with spears And then to paddle in the pureâ—… stream Of his spilt blood is more then most extreme Great builder of mankind canst thou propound All this to thy bright eyes and not confound Thy handy-work O canst thou choose but see That mad'st the eye can ought behid from thee Thou seest our persons Lord and not our guilt Thou seest not what thou maist but what thou wilt The Hand that form'd us is enforc'd to be A Screen set up betwixt thy work and thee Look look upon that Hand and thou shalt spy An open wound a through-fare
Let Hymens easie snarles be quite forgot Time cannâ—…t quench our â—…ites nor death dissolve our knot ORIG. Hom. 10. in divers O most holy Lord and sweetest Master how good art thou to those that are of upright heart and humble spirit O how blessed are they that seek thee with a simple heart How happy that trust in thee It is a most certain truth that thou lovest all that love thee and never forsakest those that trust in thee For behold thy Love simply sought thee and undoubtedly found thee She trusted in thee and is not forsaken of thee but hath obtained more by thee then she expected from thee BEDA in cap. 3. Cant. The longer I was in finding whom I sought the more earnestly I held him beâ—…ng found EPIG. 12. What found him out let strong embraces bind him He 'll fly perchance where tears can never find him New sinnes will lose what old repentance gains Wisedome not onely gets but got retains XIII PSALM 72. 28. It is good for me to draw near to God I have put my trust in the Lord God WHere is that Good which wisemen please to call The Chiefest Doth there any such befall Within mans reach Or is there such a Good at all If such there be it neither must expire Nor change then which there can be nothing higher Such Good must be the utter point of mans desire It is the Mark to which all hâ—…arts must tend Can be desired for no other end Then for it self on which all other goods depend What may this Excellence be doth it subsist A reall Essence clouded in the midst Of cuâ—…ious Art or clear to ev'ry eye that list Or is 't a tart Idea to procure An edge and keep the practick soul in ure Like that dear Chymick dust or puzzling Quadrature Where shall I seek this Good where shall I find This Cath'lick pleasure whose extremes may bind My thoughts and fill the gulf of my insatiate mind Lies it in Treasure In full heaps untold Doth gowty Mammous griping hand infold This secret Saint in sacred shrines of sov'reigne gold No no she lies not there wealth often sowrs In keeping makes us hers in seeming ours She slides from Heav'n indeed but not in Danat's showrs Lives she in honour no The royall Crown Builds up a creature and then batters down Kings raise thee with a smile and raze thee with a frown In pleasure no Pleasure begins in rage Acts the fools part on earths uncertain stage Begins the Play in youth and Epilogues in age These these are bastard-goods the best of these Torment the soul with pleasing it and please Like water gulp'd in fevers with deceitfull ease Earths flatt'ring dainties are but sweet distresses Mole-hils perform the mountains she professes Alas can earth confer more good then earth possesses Mounâ—… mount my soul and let thy thoughts cashier Earths vain delights and make their full carier At Heav'ns eternall joyes stop stop thy Courser there There shall thy soul possesse uncarefull treasure There shalt thou swim in never-sading pleasure And blaze in honour farre above the frowns of Caesar Lord if my hoâ—…e dare let her anchor fall On thee the chiefest Good no need to call For earths inferiour trash Thou thou art All in All S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 13. I follow this thing I pursue that but am filled with nothing But when I found thee who aâ—…t that immutable individed and onely good in my self what I obtained I wanted not for what I obtained not I grieved not with wâ—…at I was possest 〈◊〉 whole desire was 〈◊〉 S. BERN. Ser. 9. sup beati qui habent c. Let others pâ—…etend merit let him bâ—…ag of the burden of the day let him boast of his Sabbath fasts and let him glory that 〈◊〉 is not as other men but for me it is good to cleaâ—…e unto the Lord and to put my trust in my Lord God EPG 13. Let Boâ—…eas blasts and Nepâ—…unes waves be joyn'd Thy Eolus commands the waves the wind Fear not the rocks or worlds imperious waves Thou climbst a rock my soul a rock that saves XIV CANTICLES 2. 3. I sat under his shadow with great delight and his fruit was sweet to my tast 1 LOok how the sheep whose rambling steps do stray From the safe blessing of her Shepherds eyes Estsoon becomes the unprotected prey To the wing'd squadron of beleagring slies Where swelired with the scorching beams of day She frisks from bush to brake and wildly flies From her own self ev'n of her self afraid She shrouds her troubled brows in ev'ry glade And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade 2 Ev'n so my wand'ring Soul that hath digrest From her great Shepherd is the hourely prey Of all my sinnes These vultures in my breast Gripe my Promethean heart both night and day I hunt from place to place but sind no rest I know not where to go nor where to stay The eye of vengeance burns her flames invade My swelt'ring soul My soul hath oft assaid But she can find no shrowd but she can feel no shade 3 I sought the shades of Mitth to wear away My slow-pac'd hours of soul-consuming grief I search'd the shades of sleep to ease my day Of griping sorrows with a nights reprief I sought the shades of death thought there t' allay My finall torments with a full relief But mirth nor sleep nor death can hide my houres In the false shades of their deceitfull bowrs The first distracts the next disturbs the last devours 4 Where shall I 〈◊〉 To whom shall I apply 〈◊〉 Are there no streams where a faint soul may wade Thy Godhead JESUS are the flames that fry me Hath thy All-glorious Deity never a shade Where I may sit and vengeance never eye me Where I might sit refresht or 〈◊〉 Is there no comfort Is there no resection Is there no cover that will give protection T' a fainting soul the subject of thy wraths 〈◊〉 5 Look up my soul advance the lowly stature Of thy sad thoughts advance thy humble eye See here 's a shadow found The humane nature Is made the Umbella to the Deity To catch the Sun-beams of thy just Creatour Beneath this covert thou maist safely lie 〈◊〉 thine eyes to climbe this fruitfull tree As quick Zacheus did and thou shalt see A cloud of dying flesh betwixt those beams and thee GUILL in cap. 2. Cant. Who can indure the 〈◊〉 rayes of the Sunne of Justice Who shall not be consumed by his beams Therefore the Sun of Justice took flesh that through the conjunction of that Sun and this humane body a shadow may be made S. AUGUST Med. cap. 37. Lord let my soul flee from the scorching thoughts of the world under the covert of thy wings that being resreshed by the moderation of thy shadow she may sing merrily In peace will I lay me down and rest 〈◊〉 14. Ah treach'rous soul would not thy pleasures give That Lord which made thee living leave to
fruitfull grove To cool my palate and renew my sent For I am sick for I am sick of love These will revive my dry my wasted pow'rs And they will sweeten my unsav'ry houres Refresh me then with fruit and comfort me with flow'rs 3 O bring me apples to asswage that fire Which Aetna-like inflames my flaming breast Nor is it every apple I desire Nor that which pleases every palate best 'T is not the lasting Deuzan I require Nor yet the red-cheek'd Queening I request Nor that which first bethrewd the name of wife Nor that whose beauty caus'd the golden strife No no bring me an apple from the tree of life 4 Virgins tuck up your silken laps and fill ye With the fair wealth of Floras Magazine The purple violet and the pale-fac'd lilly The pancy and the organ colombine The flowring thyme the guilt-boul daffadilly The lowly pink the lofty eglentine The blushing rose the queen of flowers and best Of Floras beauty but above the rest Let Jesses sovereigne flower perfume my qualming breast 5 Haste Virgins haste for I lie weak and faint Beneath the 〈◊〉 of love why stand ye mute As if your silence neither car'd to grant Nor yet your language to deny my suit No key can lock the doore of my complaint Untill I smell this flower or tast that fruit Go Virgins seek this tree and search that how'râ—… O how my soul shall blesse that happy houre That brings to me such fruit that brings me such a flower GISTEN in cap. 2. Cant. Expos. 3. O happy sicknesse where the infirmitie is not to death but 〈◊〉 life that God may be glorified by it O happy sever that procedeth not from a consuming but a calcining sire O happy â—…emper wherein the soul relisheth no earthly things but onely savoureth divine nourishment S. BERN. Serm. 51. in Cant. By flowers understand faith by fruit good works As the flower or blossome is before the fruit so is saith before good works So neither is the fruit without the flower nor good works without faith EPIG. 2. Why apples O my soul Can they remove The pangs of grief or ease the flames of love It was that fruit which gave the first offence That sent him hither 〈◊〉 that remov'd him hence III. CANTICLES 2. 16. My beloved is mine and I am his He feedeth among the lillies 1 EV'n like two little bank-dividing brooks That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams And having rang'd and search'd a thousand nooks Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames Where in a greater current they conjoyn So I my best-beloveds am so he is mine 2 Ev'n so we met and after long pursuit Ev'n so we joyn'd we both became entire No need for either to renew a suit For I was flax and he was flames of sire Our firm united souls did more then twine So I my best-beloveds am so he is mine 3 If all those glitt'ring Monarchs that command The servile quarters of this earthly ball Should tender in exchange their shares of land I would not change my fortunes for them all Their wealth is but a counter to my coin The world 's but theirs but my beloved's mine 4 Nay more If the fair Thespian Ladies all Should heap together their diviner treasure That treasure should be deem'd a price too small To buy a minutes lease of half my pleasure 'T is not the sacred wealth of all the nine Can buy my heart from him or his from being mine 5 Nor Time nor Place nor Chance nor Death can bow My least desires unto the least remove He 's firmly mine by oath I his by vow He 's mine by faith and I am his by love He 's mine by water I am his by wine Thus I my best-beloveds am thus he is mine 6 He is my Altar I his Holy Place I am his guest and he my living food I 'm his by penitence he mine by grace I 'm his by purchase he is mine by bloud He 's my supporting elm and I his vine Thus I my best-beloveds am thus he is mine 7 He gives me wealth I give him all my vows I give him songs he gives me length of dayes With wreaths of grace he crowns my conqu'ring brows And I his Temples with a crown of Praise Which he accepts as an ev'rlasting signe That I my best-beloveds am that he is mine S. AUGUST Manu cap. 24. O my soul stampt with the image of thy God love him of whom thou art so much beloved bend to him that boweth to thee seek him that seeketh thee Love thy lover by whose love thou art prevented being the cause of thy love Be carefull with those that are carefull want with those that want be clean with the clean and holy with the holy choose this sriend above all friends who when all are taken away remaineth onely faithfull to thee In the day of thy buriall when all leave thee he will not deceive thee but defend thee from the roaring Lions prepared for their prey EPIO. 3. Sing Hymen to my soul What lost and found Welcom'd espous'd enjoy'd so soon and crown'dâ—… He did but climb the Crosse and then came down 〈◊〉 gates of hell triumph'd and fetch'd a Crown IV. CANTICLES 7. 10. I am my Beloveds and his desire is towards me 1 LIke to the Artick needle that doth guide The wand'ring shade by his Magnetick pow'r And leaves his silken Gnomon to decide The question of the controverted houre First franticks up and down from side to side And restlesse beats his crystall'd Iv'ry case With vain impatience jets from place to place And seeks the bosome of his frozen bride At length he slacks his motion and doth rest His trembling point at his bright Poles beloved brest 2 Ev'n so my soul being hurried here and there By ev'ry object that presents delight Fain would be settled but she knowes not where She likes at morning what she loaths at night She bowes to honour then she lends an eare To that sweet swan-like voyce of dying pleasure Then tumbles in the scatter'd heaps of treasure Now flatter'd with false hope now foyl'd with fear Thus finding all the worlds delights to be But empty toyes good God she points alone to thee 3 But hath the virtued steel a power to move Or can the untouch'd needle point aright Or can my wandring thoughts forbear to rove Unguided by the virtue of thy spirit O hath my leaden soul the art t' improve Her wasted talent and unrais'd aspire In this sad moulting time of her desire Not first belov'd have I the power to love I cannot stirre but as thou please to move me Nor can my heart return thee love untill thou love me 4 The still Commandresse of the silent night Borrows her beams from her bright brothers eye His fair aspect filles her sharp horns with light If he withdraw her flames are quench'd and die Even so the beams of thy enlightning spirit Infus'd and shot into my dark desire
Inflame my thoughts and fill my soul with fire That I am ravisht with a new delight But if thou shroud thy face my glory fades And I remain a Nothing all compos'd of shades 5 Eternall God O thou that onely art The sacred Fountain of eternall light And blessed Loadstone of my better part O thou my hearts desire my souls delight Reflect upon my soul and touch my heart And then my heart shall prize no good above thee And then my soul shall know thee knowing love thee And then my trembling thoughts shall never start From thy commands or swerve the least degree Or once presume to move but as they move in thee S. AUGUST Med. Cap. 25. If Man can love man with so entire affection that the one can scarce brook the others absence If a bride can be joyned to 〈◊〉 bride-groom with so great an ardency of mind that for the extremitie of love she can enjoy no rest not suffering his absence without great anxiety with what affection with what 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the soul whom thou hast espoused by saith and compassion to love thee her true God and glorious bridegroom EPIG. 4. My soul thy love is dear 'T was thought a good And easie pen'worth of thy Saviours bloud But be not proud All matters rightly scann'd 'T was over-brought 'T was sold at second hand V. CANTICLES 5. 6. My Soul melted whilst my Beloved spake LOrd has the feeble voyce of flesh and bloud The pow'r to work thine ears into a floud Of melted mercy or the strength t' unlock The gates of Heav'n and to dissolve a rock Of marble clouds into a morning show'r Or hath the breath of whining dust the pow'r To stop or snatch a falling thunderbolt From thy fierce hand and make thy hand revolt From resolute confusion and in stead Of vyals poure full blessings on our head Or shall the wants of famisht ravens cry And move thy mercy to a quick supply Or shall the silent suits of drooping flow'rs Woo thee for drops and be refresh'd with show'rs Alas what marvel then great God what wonder If thy hell-rouzing voice that splits in sunder The brazen portals of eternall death What wonder if that life-restoring breath Which dragg'd me from th' infernall shades of night Should melt my ravisht soul with ore-delight O can my frozen gutters choose but run That feel the warmth of such a glorious Sun Me thinks his language like a flaming arrow Doth pierce my bones and melts their wounded marrow Thy flames O Cupid though the joyfull heart Feels neither tang of grief nor fears the smart Of jealous doubts but drunk with full desires Are torments weigh'd with these celestiall fires Pleasures that ravish in so high a measure That O I languish in excesse of pleasure What ravisht heart that feels these melting joyes Would not despise and loath the treach'rous toyes Of dunghill earth what soul would not be proud Of wry-mouth'd scorns the worst that flesh and bloud Had rancour to devise Who would not bear The worlds derision with a thankfull eare What palat would refuse full bowls of spight To gain a minutes tast of such delight Great spring of light in whom there is no shade But what my interposed sinnes have made Whose marrow-melting fires admit no screen But what my own rebellions put between Their precious flames and my obdurate eare Disperse these plague-distilling clouds and clear My mungy soul into a glorious day Transplant this screen remove this barre away Then then my fluent soul shall feel the fires Of thy sweet voyce and my dissolv'd desires Shall turn a sov'reigne balsame to make whole Those wounds my sinnes inflicted on thy soul S. AUGUST Soliloq cap. 34. What fire is this that so warmeth my heart What light is this that so enlightneth my soul O fire that alwayes burnest and never goest out kindle me O light which ever shinest and art never darkned illuminate me O that I had my heat from thee most holy fire How sweetly dost thou burn How secretly dost thou shine How desiderably dost thou inflame me BONAVENT Stim amoris cap. 8. It maketh God man and man God things temporall eternall mortall immortall it maketh an enemy a friend a servant a sonne 〈◊〉 things glorious cold hearts siery and hard things liquid EPIG. 5. My soul thy gold is true but full of drosse Thy Saviours breath resines thee with some losse His gentle fornace makes thee pure as true Thou must be melted ere th' art cast anew VI PSALME 73. 25. Whom have I in Heaven but thee and what desire I on earth in respect of thee 1 I Love and have some cause to love the earth She is my Makers creature therefore good She is my Mother for she gave me birth She is my tender Nurse she gives me food But what 's a Creature Lord compar'd with thee Or what 's my Mother or my Nurse to me 2 I love the Aire her dainty sweets refresh My drooping soul and to new sweets invite me Her shrill-mouth'd quire sustain me with their flesh And with their Polyphonian notes delight me But what 's the Aire or all the sweets that she Can blesse my soul withall compar'd to thee 3 I love the Sea She is my fellow-creature My carefull purveyer she provides me store She walls me round she makes my diet greater She wafts my treasure from a forrein shore But Lord of oceans when compar'd with thee What is the Ocean or her wealth to me 4 To Heav'ns high citie I direct my journey Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye Mine eye by contemplations great atturney Transcends the crystall pavement of the skie But what is Heav'n great God compar'd to thee Without thy presence Heav'n 's no Heav'n to me 5 Without thy presence Earth gives no refection Without thy presence Sea affords no treasure Without thy presence Air 's a rank 〈◊〉 Without thy presence Heav'n it self 's no pleasure If not possest if not enjoy'd in thee What 's Earth or Sea or Air or Heav'n to me 6 The highest Honours that the world can boast Are subjects farre too low for my desire The brightest beams of glory are at most But dying sparkles of thy living fire The proudest flames that earth can kindle be But nightly Glow-worms if compar'd to thee 7 Without thy presence wealth are bags of cares Wisdome but folly Joy disquiet sadnesse Friendship is treason and Delights are snares Pleasures but pain and Mirth but pleasing madnesse Without thee Lord things be not what they be Nor have they being when compar'd with thee 8 In having all things and not thee what have I Not having thee what have my labours got Let me enjoy but thee what farther crave I And having thee alone what have I not I wish nor Sea nor Land nor would I be Possest of Heav'n Heav'n unpossest of thee BONAVINT cap. 1. Soliloq Alas my God now I understand but blush to consesse that the beautie of thy Creatures hath
as this Look full upon me for my soul 〈◊〉 To turn a holy 〈◊〉 in those fires O leave me not nor turn thy beauty from me Look look upon me though thy flames ov'rcome me If thou becloud the Sun-shine of thine eye I freez to death and if it shine I frie Which like a fever that my soul hath got Makes me to burn too cold or freez too hot Alas I cannot bear so sweet a smart Nor canst thou be lesse glorious thâ—…n thou art Hast then and let thy winged steps out-go The frighted Ro-buck and his flying Ro. But go not farre beyond the reach of breath Too large a distance makes another death My youth is in her Spring Autumnall vowes Will make me riper for so sweet a Spouse When after-times have burnish'd my desire I 'll shoot thee flames for flames and fire for fire O leave me not nor turn thy beautie from me Look look upon me though thy flames ov'rcome me Autor scalae Paradisi Tom. 9. Aug. cap. 8. Fear not O Bride nor despair think not thy self contemâ—…ed if thy Bridegroom withdraw his face a while All things cooperate for the best both from his absence and his presence thou gainest light He cometh to thee and he goeth from thee he cometh to make thee consolate he goeth to make thee cautions lest thy abundant consolation puss thee up he cometh that thy languishing soul may be comforted he goeth lest his familiaritie should be contemned and being absent to be more desired and being desired to be more earnestly sought and being long sought to be more acceptably sound EPIG. 15. My soul sinnes monster whom with greater ease Ten thousand fold thy God could make then please What wouldst thou have nor pleas'd with sun nor shade Heav'n knowes not what to make of what he made THE FAREWELL REVâ—…LATION 2. 10. Be thou faithfull unto death and I will give thee the crown of life 1 BE faithfull Lord what 's that Believe 't is easie to believe but what That he whom thy hard heart hath wounded And whom thy scorn hath spit upon Hath paid thy sine and hath compounded For those foul deeds thy hands have done Believe that he whose gentle palms Thy needle-pointed sinnes have naild Hath born thy slavish load of alms And made supply where thou hast faild Did ever mis'ry find so strange relief It is a love too strong for mans belief 2 Believe that he whose side Thy crimes have pierc'd with their rebellions di'd To save thy guilty soul from dying Ten thousand horrid deaths from whence There was no scape there was no slying But through his dearest blouds expence Believe this dying friend requires No other thanks for all his pain But ev'n the truth of weak desires And for his love but love again Did ever mis'ry find so true a friend It is a love too vast to comprehend 3 With flouds of tears baptize And drench these dry these unregen rate eyes Lord whet my dull my blunt belief And break this fleshly rock in sunder That from this heart this hell of grief May spring a Heav'n of love and wonder O if thy mercies will remove And melt this lead from my belief My grief will then resine my love My love will then refresh my grief Then weep mine eyes as he hath bled vouchsafe To drop for every drop an Epitaph 4 But is the crown of Glory The wages of a lamentable story Or can so great a purchase rise From a salt humour can mine eye Run fast enought ' obtain this prize If so Lord who 's so mad to die Thy tears are trifles thou must do Alas I cannot then endeavour I will but will a tug or two Suffice the turn thou must persever I 'll strive till death and shall my feeble strife Be crown'd I 'll crown it with a crown of life 5 But is there such a dearth That thou must buy what is thy due by birth He whom thy hands did form of dust And gave him breath upon condition To love his great Creatour must He now be thine by composition Art thou a gracious God and mild Or head-strong man rebellious rather O man 's a base rebellious child And thou a very gracious Father The gift is thine we strive thou crown'st our strife Thou giv'st us Faith and Faith a crown of life FINIS
EMBLEMES CAMBRIDGE Printed by RD for Francis Eglesfeild and are to be sold at the signe of the Marigold in St. Pauls Church-yard 16â—◠〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Haec laus hic apex Sapientiae est ea viventem appetere quae morienti forent appetenda TO My much honoured and no lesse truly beloved Friend EDW. BENLOWES Esquire My dear Friend YOu have put the Theorboe into my hand and I have played You gave the Musician the first encouragement the Musick returneth to you for Patronage Had it been a light Ayre no doubt but it had taken the most and among them the worst But being a grave Strayn my hopes are that it will please the best and among them You. Toyish Ayres please triviall eares They kisse the fancy and betray it They cry Hail first and after Crucifie Let Dorrs delight to immerd themselves in dungwhilest Eagles scorn so poore a Game as Flies Sir you have Art and Candour Let the one judge let the other excuse Your most affectionate Friend FRA. QUARLES What heere wee see is but a graven face Onely the shaddow of yt brittle case Wherein were treasurd up those gems wch he Hath left behind him to Posterity To the Reader AN Embleme is but a silent Parable Let not the tender Eye check to see the allusion to our blessed Saviour figured in these Types In holy Scripture he is sometimes called a Sower sometimes a Fisher sometimes a Physician And why not presented so as well to the eye as to the eare Before the knowledge of letters God was known by Hieroglyphicks And indeed what are the Heavens the Earth â—…ay every Creature but Hieroglyphicks and Emblemes of His Glory I have no more to say I wish thee as much pleasure in the reading as I had in the writing Farewell Reader BY Fathers back'd by Holy Writ led on Thou shew'st a way to Heav'n by Helicon The Muses Font is consecrate by Thee And Poesie baptiz'd Divinitie Blest soul that here embark'st Thou sail'st apace 'T is hard to say mov'd more by Wit or Grace Each Muse so plyes her Oar but O the Sail Is fill'd from Heav'n with a Diviner Gale When Poets prove Divines why should not I Approve in Verse this Divine Poetry Let this suffice to licence thee the Presse I must no more nor could the Truth say lesse Sic approbavit RICH. LOVE Procan Cantabrigiensis Tot Flores QUARLES quot Paradisus habet Lectori bene-male-volo Qui legit ex Horto hoc Flores Qui carpit Utâ—rque Jure potest VIOLAS dicere jure ROSAS Non è Parnasso VIOLAM Paestive ROSETO Carpit Apollo magìs quae sit amoena ROSAM Quot Versus VIOLAS legis Quem verba loâ—â—â—â—um Credis verbà dedit Nam dedit Ille ROSAS Utque Ego non dicam haec VIOLAS suavissima Tâ—â—â— Ipse facis VIOLAS Livide si violas Nam velu◠è VIOLIS sibi sugit Araâ—ea virus Vertis ità in succos Hasque ROSASque tuos Quas violas Mùâ—as VIOLAS puto quasque recusaâ— Dente tuo rosas has reor esse ROSAS Sic rosas facis esse ROSAS dùm 〈◊〉 rodis Sic facis has VIOLAS Livide dum violas Brent Hall 1634. EDVV. BENLOVVES THE FIRST BOOK The Invocation ROwze thee my soul and drein thee from the dregs Of vulgar thoughts Skrue up the heightned pegs Of thy sublime Theorboe foure notes higher And higher yet that so the 〈◊〉 mouth'd Quire Of swift-wing'd Seraphims may come and joyn And make thy consort more than halfe divine Invoke no Muse Let heav'n be thy Apollo And let his sacred influences hallow Thy high-bred strains Let his full beams inspite Thy ravish'd brains with more heroick 〈◊〉 Snatch thee a Quill from the spread Eagles wing And like the morning Lark mount up and sing Cast off these dangling plummets that so clog Thy lab'ring heart which gropes in this dark fog Of dungeon-earth Let flesh and bloud 〈◊〉 To stop thy flight till this base world appear A thin blew Lanskip Let thy pineons sore So high a pitch that men may seem no more Than Pismires crawling on this Mole-hill earth Thy eare untroubled with their frantick mirth Let not the frailtie of thy flesh disturb Thy new-concluded peace Let Reason 〈◊〉 Thy hot-mouth'd Passion and let heav'ns fire season The fresh Conceits of thy corrected Reason Disdain to warm thee at Lusts smokie fires Scorn scorn to feed on thy old bloat desires Come come my soul hoyse up thy higher sails The wind blowes fair Shall we still creep like Snails That gild their wayes with their own native slimes No we must flie like Eâ—…gles and our Rhimes Must mount â—…o heav'n and reach th' Olympick eaâ—… Our heav'n-blown fire must seek no other Sphear Thou great Theanthropos that giv'st and ground'st Thy gifts in dust and from out dunghill crown'st Reflected Honour taking by retail What thou hast giv'n in grosse from lapsed frail And sinfull man that drink'st full draughts wherein Thy Childrens leprous fingers scurf'd with Sin Have padled cleanse O cleanse my crafty Soul From secret crimes and let my thoughts controul My thoughts O teach me stoutly to deny My self that I may be no longer I Enrich my fancie clarifie my thoughts Resine my drosse O wink at humane faults And through this slender conduit of my Quill Convey thy Current whose clear streams may fill The hearts of men with love their tongues with prayse Crown me with Glory Take who list the Bayes I. JAM 1. 14. Every man is tempted when he is drawn away by his own lust and enticed Serpent Eve Serp. NOt eat Not tast Not touch Not cast an eye Upon the fruit of this faiâ—… Tree And why Why eat'st thou not what Heav'n ordain'd for food Or canst thou think that bad which heav'n call'd Good Why was it made if not to be enjoy'd Neglect of favours makes a favour void Blessings unus'd pervert into a Wast As well as Surfets Woman Do but tast See how the laden boughs make silent suit To be enjoy'd Look how their bending fruit Meet thee half-way Observe but how they crouch To kisse thy hand Coy woman Do but touch Maâ—…k what a pure Vermilion blush has dy'd Their swelling cheeks and how for shame they hide Their palsie heads to see themselves stand by Neglected Woman Do but cast an eye What bounteous heav'n ordain'd for use refuse not Come pull and eat Y' abuse the thing ye use not Eve Wisest of Beasts our great Creatour did Reserve this Tree and this alone forbid The rest are freely ours which doubtlesse are As pleasing to the tast toth' eye as fair But touching this his strict commands are such T is death to tast no lesse than death to touch Serp. Pish death 's a fable Did not heav'n inspire Your equall Elements with living Fire Blown from the spring of life Is not that breath Immortall Come ye are as free from death As He that made ye Can the flames expire Which he has kindled
dart As it hath prickt thy fancy pierâ—…'d thy heart 'T had been thy friend O how has it deceiv'd thee For had this dart but kill'd this dart had sav'd thee XIV PROVERBS 24. 16. A just man falleth seven times and riseth up again but the wicked shall fall into mischief 1 'T Is but a foyl at best and that 's the most Your skill can boast My slipp'ry footing fail'd me and you tripâ—… Just as I slipt My wanton weaknesse did her self betray With too much play I was too bold He never yet stood sure That stands secure Who ever trusted to his native strength But fell at length The Title 's craz'd the Tenure is not good That claims by th' evidence of flesh and bloud 2 Boast not thy skill the riglâ—…eous man falls ost Yet falls but soft There may be dirt to mire him but no stones To crush his bones What if he staggers Nay put case he be Foyl'd on his knee That very knee will bend to Heav'n and woo For mercy too The true-bred Gamester ups a fresh and then Falls to 't agen Whereas the leaden-hearted coward lies And yields his conquer'd life or craven'd dies 3 Boast not thy Conquest thou that ev'ry hour Fall'sâ—… ten times lower Nay hast not pow'r to rise if not in case To fall more base Thou wallow'st where I slip and thou dost tumble Where I but stumble Thou glory'st in thy slav'ries diâ—…ty badges And fall'st for wages Sowâ—…grief and sad repentance scowrs and clears My stains with tears Thy falling keeps thy falling still in ure But when I slip I stand the more sâ—…cure 4 Lord what a nothing is this little Span We call a Man What fenny trash mainteins the smoth'ring sires Of his desires How sleight and short are â—…is resolvs at longest How weak at strongest O if a sinner held by thy fast hand Can hardly stand Good God! in what a desp'rate case are they That have no stay Mans state implyes a necessary curse When not himself he 's mad when most himself he 's worse S. AMBROS. in Serm. ad vincula Peter stood more firmly after he â—…ad lamented his fall then before he fell Insomuch that he found more grace then he lost grace S. CHRYS. in Ep. ad Heliod monach It is no such hainous matter to fall afflicted as being down to lie dejected It is no danger for a souldier to receive a wound in battel but after the wound received through despair of recovery to refuse a remedy for we often see wounded Champions wear the Palm at last and after flight crowned with victory EPIG. 14. Triumph not Cupid his mischance doth show Thy trade doth once what thou dost alwayes do Brag not too soon has thy prevailing hand Foil'd him Ah fool th' ast taught him how to stand XV JEREMIAH 32. 40. I will put my fear in their hearts that they shall not depart from me SO now the soul 's sublim'd her sowre desires Are recalcin'd in heav'ns well-tempred fires The heart restor'd and purg'd from drossie nature Now finds the freedome of a new-born creature It lives another life it breaths new breath It neither feels nor fears the sting of death Like as the idle vagrant having none That boldly ' dopts each house he views his own Makes ev'ry purse his chequer and at pleasure Walks forth and taxes all the world like Caesar At length by vertue of a just command His sides are lent to a severer hand Whereon his passe not fully understood Is texted in a manuscript of blood Thus past from town to town untill he come A sore repentant to his native home Ev'n so the rambling heart that idly roves From crimes to sin and uncontroul'd removes From lust to lust when wanton slesh invites From old-worn pleasures to new choice delights At length corrected by the filiall rod Of his offended but his gracious God And lasht from sins to sighs and by degrees From sighs to vows from vows to bended knees From â—…ended knees to a true pensive breast 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to torments not by tongues exprest 〈◊〉 and from his sinfull self exil'd 〈◊〉 a glad father he a welcome child O then it lives O then it lives involv'd In 〈◊〉 raptures pants to be dissolv'd 〈◊〉 royall Of spring of a second Birth 〈◊〉 ope to Heav'n and shuts the doors to earth If love-sick â—…ove commanded clouds should hap To rain such show'rs as quickned Danaes lap Or dogs far kinder then their purple master Should lick his sores he laughs nor weeps the faster If earth Heav'ns rivall dart her idle ray To Heav'n 't is wax and to the world 't is clay If earth present delights it scorns to draw But like the jet unrubb'd disdains that straw No hope deceives it and no doubt divides it No grief disturbs it and no errour guides it No fear distracts it and no rage inflames it No guilt condemns it and no folly shames it No sloth besots it and no lust inthralls it No scorn afflicts it and no passion gawls it It is a â—…arknet of immortall life An Aâ—…k of peace the lists of sacred strife A purer piece of endlâ—…sse transitory A shrine of Grace a little throne of Glory A Heav'n-born Of-spring of a new-born birth An earthly Heav'n an ounce of Heav'nly earth S. AUGUST de spir. anima O happy heart where pietie 〈◊〉 where 〈◊〉 subjects where repentance correcteth where obedience directâ—…th where perseverance perfecteth where power protecteth wheâ—…e devotion projecteth where charitie connecteth S. GRâ—…G Which way soever the heart turneth it self if carefully it shall commonly observe that in those very things we lose God in tâ—…ose very things we shall find God It shall find the heat of his power in consideration of those things in the love of whiâ—…h things he was most cold and by what things it fell 〈◊〉 by those things it is raised converted EPIG. 15. My heart but wherefore do I call thee so I have renounâ—…'d my int'rest long ago When thou wert false and fleshly I was thine Mine wert thou never till thou wert not mine THE THIRD BOOK The Entertainment ALL you whose better thoughts are newly born And rebaptiz'd with holy fire can scorn The worlds base trash whose necks disdain to bear Th' imperious yoke of Satan whose chast eare No wanton songs of Sirens can surprize With false delight whose more then Eagle-eyes Can view the glorious flames of gold and gaze On glitt'ring beams of honour and not daze Whose souls can spurn at pleasure and deny The loose suggestions of the flesh draw nigh And you whose am'rous whose select desires Would feel the warmth of those transcendent 〈◊〉 Which like the rising Sun put out the light Of Venus starre and turn her day to night You that would love and have your passions crown'd With greater happinesse then can be found In your own wishes you that would aâ—…ect Where neither scorn nor guile nor disiespect Shall wound your tortur'd souls that would enjoy Where
invite thee A willing guest wherein can earth delight thee Her pleasures are but itch her wealth but 〈◊〉 A world of dangers and a world of snares The close pursuers busie hands do plant Snares in thy substance Snares attend thy want Snares in thy credit Snares in thy disgrace Snares in thy high estate Snares in thy base Snares tuck thy bed and Snares arround thy board Snares watch thy thoughts and Snares attach thy word Snares in thy quiet Snares in thy commotion Snares in thy 〈◊〉 Snares in thy devotion Snares lurk in thy resolves Snares in thy doubt Snares lie within thy heart and Snares without Snares are above thy head and Snares beneath Snares in thy sicknesse Snares are in thy death O if these Purliews be so full of danger Great God of Harts the worlds sole sov'reigne Ranger Preserve thy Deere and let my soul be blest In thy safe Forrest where I seék for rest Then let the hell-hounds rore I fear no ill Rouze me they may but have no pow'r to kill S. AMBROS. lib. 4. in cap. 4. Lucae The reward of honours the height of power the delicacie of diet and the beautie of a harlot are the snares of the devil S. AMBROS. de bono mortis Whilest thou seekest pleasures thou runnest into snares for the eye of the harlot is the snare of the Adulterer SAVANAR In eating he setteth before us gluttony Iâ— generation luxury In labour sluggishnesse In conversing envy In governing covetousnesse In correcting anger In honour pride In the heart he setteth evil thoughts In the mouth evil words In actions evil works when awake he moveth us to evil actions when asleep to filthy dreams EPIG. 9. Be sad my Heart deep dangers wait thy mirth Thy soul 's way-laid by Sea by Hell by Earth Hell has her hounds Earth snares the Sea a shelf But most of all my Heart beware thy self X. PSALM 143. 2. Enter not into judgement with thy servant for in thy sight shall no man living be justified Jesus Justice Sinner Jes. BRing forth the prisner Justice Just Thy commands 〈◊〉 done just Judge See here the prisner stands Jes. What hath the prisner done Say what 's the cause Of his commitment Just He has broke the laws Of his too gracious God conspir'd the death Of that great Majesty that gave him breath And heapt transgression Lord upon transgression Jes. How know'st thou this Just Ev'n by his own confession His sinnes are crying and they cry'd aloud They cry'd to Heav'n they cry'd to Heav'n for bloud Jes. What say'st thou sinner hast thou ought to plead That sentence should not passe hold up thy head And shew thy brasen thy rebellious face Sin Ah me I dare not I 'm too vile and base To tread upon the earth much more to 〈◊〉 Mine eyes to Heav'n I need no other 〈◊〉 Then mine own conscience Lord I must confesse I am no more then dust and no whit lesse Then my 〈◊〉 styles me Ah if thou Search too severe with too severe a brow What flesh can stand I have transgrest thy laws My merits plead thy vengeance not my cause Just Lord shall I strike the blow Jes. Hold Justice stay Sinner speak on what hast thou more to say Sin Vile as I am and of my self abhorr'd I am thy handy-work thy creature Lord Stampt with thy glorious Image and at first Most like to thee though now a poore accurst Convicted catiff and degen'rous creature Here trembling at thy bar Just Thy fault 's the greater Lord sâ—…ll I strike the blow Jes. Hold Justice stay Speak sinner hast thou nothing more to say Sin Nothing but Mercy Mercy Lord my state Is miserably poore and desperate I quite renounce my self the world and flee From Lord to Jesus from thy self to thee Just Cease thy vain hopes my angry God has vow'd Abused mercy must have bloud for bloud Shall I yet strike the blow Jes. Stay Justice hold My bowels yearn my fainting bloud growes cold To view the trembling wretch me thinks I spy My fathers image in the prisners eye Just I cannot hold Jes. Then turn thy thirsty blade Into my sides let there the wound be made Chear up dear soul redeem thy life with mine My soul shall smart my heart shall bleed for thine Siâ—… O ground-lesse deeps O love beyond degree Th' offended dies to set th' offender free S. AUGUST Lord if I have done that for which thou maist damne me thou hast not lost that whereby thou maist save me Remember not sweet Jesus thy justice against the sinner but thy benignity towards thy creature Remember not to proceed against a guilty soul but remember thy mercy towards a miserable wretch Forget the insolence of the provoker and behold the misery of the invoker for what is Jesus but a Saviour ANSELM Have respect to what thy Sonne hath done for me and forget what my sinnes have done against thee My flesh hath provoked thee to vengeance let the flesh of Christ move thee to mercy It is much that my rebellions have deserved but it is more that my Redeemer hath marited EPIG. 10. Mercie of mercies He that was my drudge Is now my Advocate is now my Judge He suffers pleads and sentences alone Three I adore and yet adore but One XI PSALM 69. 15. Let not the water-flood overflow me neither let the deeps swallow me up THe world 's a Sea my flesh a Ship that 's mann'd With lab'ring Thoughts and steer'd by Reasons hand My Heart 's the Sea-mans Card whereby she sails My loose Affections are the greater Sails The Top-sail is my Fancie and the Gusts That sill these wanton sheets are worldly Lusts. Pray'r is the Cable at whose end appears The Anchor Hope nev'r slipt but in our fears My Will's th' unconstant Pilot that commands The stagg'ring Keel my Sinnes are like the Sands Repentance is the Bucket and mine Eye The Pump 〈◊〉 but in extremes and dry My Conscience is the Plummet that doth presse The deeps but seldome cries A sathom lesse Smooth Calm's security the Gulf despair My Fraught's Corruption and this Life 's my Fair My Soul 's the Passenger confus'dly driven From fear to fright her landing-Port is Heaven My Seas are stormy and my Ship doth leak My Saylers rude my Steersman saint and weak My Canvace torn it slaps from side to side My Cable 's crakt my Anchor's slightly ti'd My Pilot's craz'd my thipwrack-Sands are cloak'd My Bucket 's broken and my Pump is choak'd My Calm 's deceitfull and my Gulf too near My Wares are slubber'd and my Fare's too dear My Plummet 's light it cannot sink nor sound O shall my Rock-bethreatned Soul be drown'd Lord still the Seas and shield my Ship from harm Instruct my Sailours guid my Steersmans arm Touch thou my Compasse and renew my Sails Send stifter courage or send milder gales Make strong my Cable bind my Anchor faster Direct my â—…ilot and be thou his Master Object the Sands to my more serious
view Make sound my Bucket bore my Pump anew New cast my Plummet make it apt to try Where the Rockâ—… lurk and where the Quick sands lie Guà rd thou the Gulf with love my Calms with care Cleanse thou my Fraught accâ—…pt my slender Fare Refresh the Sea-sick passenger cut short His Voyage land him in his wished Port Thou Thou whom winds and stormy seas obey That through the deep gav'st grumbling Isr'ell way Say to my Soul be safe and then mine eye Shall scorn grim death although grim death stand by O thou whose strength-reviving Arm did cherish Thy sinking Peter at the point to perish Reach forth thy hand or bid me tread the wave I 'll come I 'll come the voyce that calls will save S. AMBROS. Apol. post pro David Cap. 3. 〈◊〉 The consâ—…uence of lusts make a great tempest which in this sea disturbeth the sea-saring soul that reason cannot govern it S. AUGUST Soliloqu Cap 35. We labour in a boysterous sea Thou standest upon the shore and 〈◊〉 our dangers Give us grace to hold a middle course â—…wixt Sâ—…ylla and Charybdis that both dangers escaped we 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 at our Port secure Ep 10. 11. My Soul the seas are rough and thou a stranger In these false coasts O keep aloof there 's danger Cast forth thy plummet see a rock appears Thy ship wants sea-room make it with thy tears XII JOB 14. 13. O that thou wouldst hide me in the grave that thou wouldst keep me secret untill thy wrath be past O Whither shall I fly what path untrod Shall I seek out to scape the flaming rod Of my ostended of my angry God Where shall I sojourn what kind sea will hide My head from Thunder where shall I abide Untill his flames be quench'd or laid aside What if my feet should take their hasty flight And seek protection in the shades of night Alas no shades can blind the God of Light What if my soul should take the wings of day And find some desart if the spring away The wings of vengeance â—…ip as fast as they What if some solid rock should entertain My frighted soul Can solid rocks restrain The stroke of Justice and not cleave in twain Nor Sea nor Shade nor Shield nor Rock nor Cave Nor silent Desarts nor the sullen Grave Where slame-ey'd fury means to smiâ—…e can save The Seas will part Graves open Rocks will split The Shield will cleave the frighted Shadows slit Where Justice aims her fiery darts must hit No no if stern-brow'd vengeance means to thunder There is no place above beneath nor under So close but will unlock or rive in sunder 'T is vain to flee 't is neither here nor there Can scape that hand untill that hand forbear Ah me where is he not that 's every where 'T is vain to flee till gentle mercy shew Her better eye the farther off we go The swing of Justice deals the mightier blow Th' ingenious child corrected doth not flie His angry mothers hand but clings more nigh And quenches with his tears her flaming eye Shadows are faithlesse and the rocks are false No trust in brasse no trust in marble walls Poore cots are even as safe as Princes halls Great God there is no safety here below Thou art my Fortresse though thou seem'st my fo 'T is thou that strik'st the stroke must guard the blow Thou art my God by thee I fall or stand Thy Grace hath giv'n me courage to withstand All tortures but my conscience and thy hand I know thy Justice is thy self I know Just God thy very self is Mercy too If not to thee where whither should I go Then work thy will If passion bid me flee My reason shall obey my wings shall be Stretcht out no further then from thee to thee S. AUGUST in Psal. 30. Whither flie I To what place can I safely flie To what mountain To what den To what strong house What castle shall I hold What walls shall hold me Whithersoever I go my self followeth me For whatsoever thou fliest O man thou maist but thy own conscience wheresoever O Lord I go I find thee if angry a Revenger if appeased a Redeemer what way have I but to flie from thee to thee That thou maist avoâ—d thy God addresse thee to thy Lord EPIG. 12. Hath vengeance found thee Can thy fears command No rocks to shield thee from her thund'ring hand Know'st thou not where to scape I 'll tell thee where My soul make clean thy conscience hide thee there XIII JOB 10. 20. Are not my dayes few Cease then and let me alone that I may bewail my self a little MY Glasse is half unspent Forbear t'airâ—…st My thriâ—…sse day too soon my poore request Is that my glasse may â—…un but out the rest My time-devoured minutes will be done Without thy hâ—…lp see see how swift they run Cut not my thred before my thred be spun The gain 's not great I purchase by this stay What losse sustain'st thou by so small delay To whom ten thousand years are but a day My following eye can hardly make a shift To count my winged houres they fly so swift They scarce deserve the bounteous name of gift The secret wheels of hurrying Time do give So short a warning and so fast they drive That I am dead before I seem to live And what 's a Life a weary Pilgrimage Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage With Childhood Manhood and decrepit Age And what 's a Life the â—…lourishing array Of the proud Summer meadow which today Wears her green plush and is tomorrow hay And what 's a Life A blast sustein'd with clothing Maintein'd with food retein'd with vile self-lothing Then weary of it self again'd to nothing Reade on this diall how the shades devour My short-liv'd winters day houre eats up hoâ—…re Alas the totall's but from eight to soure Behold these Lillies which thy hands have made Fair copies of my life and open laid To view how soon they droop how soon they fade Shade not that diall night will blind too soon My nonag'd day already points to noon How simple is my suit how small my boon Nor do I beg this slender inch to while The time away or falsely to beguile My thoughts with joy here 's nothing worth a smile No no 't is not to please my wanton ears With frantâ—…k mirth I beg but hoâ—…es not years And what thou giv'st me I will give to teaâ—…s Draw not that soul which would be rather led Thâ—…t Seed has yet not broke my Serpents head O shall dy before my sinnes are dead Behold these rags am I a sitting guest To tast the dainties of thy royall feast With hands and face unwash'd ungirt unblest First let the Jordan streams that â—…ind supplies From the deep fountain of my heart arise And cleanse my spots and clear my leprous eyes I have a world of sinnes to be lamented I have a sea of tears that must be vented O spare
kindled in my ravisht heart What Muse shall I invoke that will inspire My lowly quill to act a loftie part What Art shall I devise t' expresse desire Too intricate to be exprest by Art Let all the nine be silent I refuse Their aid in this high task for they abuse The flames of love too much assist me Davids Muse 2 Not as the thirsty soyl desires soft show'rs To quicken and refresh her Embryon grain Nor as the drooping crests of fading flow'rs Request the bountie of a morning rain Do I desire my God these in few houres Re-wish what late their wishes did obtein But as the swift-foot Hart doth wounded flie To th' much desired streams ev'n so do I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 3 Before a pack of deep-mouth'd lusts I flâ—…e O they have singled out my panting heart And wanton Cupid sitting in a tree Hath pierc'd my bosome with a flaming dart My soul being spent for refuge seeks to thee But cannot find where thou my refuge art Like as the swift-foot Hart doth wounded flie To the desired stâ—…eams ev'n so do I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 4 At length by flight I over-went the pack Thou drew'st the wanton daâ—…t from out my wound The bloud that follow'd left a puâ—…ple track Which brought a Serpent but in â—…hape a Hound We strove he bit me but thou brak'st his back I left him grov'ling on th' envenom'd ground But as the Serpent-bitten Hart doth slie To the long-long'd for streams ev'n so did I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 5 If lust should chase my soul made swift by fright Thou art the stâ—…eams whereto my soul is bound Or if a jav'lin wound my sides in flight Thou art the balsame that must cure my wound If povson chance t' infest my soul in fight Thou art the treade that must make me sound Ev'n as the wounded Hart embost doth slie To th' streams extremely long'd for so do I Paâ—…t after thee my God whom I must find or die CYP. lib. 5. in Joh. cap. 10. Oprecious water which quencbeth the noysome thirst of this world that scoureth all the stains os sinners that watereth tâ—…e earth of our souls with heavenly showers and bringeth back the thirsty heart of man to his onely God! S. AUGUST Soliloq 35. O fountain of life and vein of living waters when shall I leave this forsaken impassible and dry earth and tast the waters of thy sweetnesse that I may behold thy virtue and thy glory and slake my thirst with the streams of thy mercy Lord I thirst Thou art the spring of life 〈◊〉 me I thirst Lord I thirst aste thee the living God! EPIG. 11. The arrow-smitten Hart deep wounded slies To th' springs with water in his weeping eyes Heav'n is thy spring If Satans fiery dart Pierce thy faint sides do so my wounded Heart XII PSALM 42. 2. When shall I come and appear before God WHat is my soul the better to be tin'd With holy fire what boots it to be coyn'd With Heav'ns own stamp what vantage can there be To souls of Heav'n-descended pedegree More then to beasts that grovel Are not they Fed by th' Almighties hand and ev'ry day Fill'd with his blessing too Do they not see God in his Creatures as direct as we Do they not tast thee hear thee nay what sense Is not partaker of thine Excellence What more do we Alas what serves our reason But like dark lanthorns to accomplish treason With greater closenesse It affords no light Brings thee no nearer to our purblind sight No pleasure rises up the least degree Great God but in the clearer view of thee What priv'ledge more then sense hath reason than What vantage is it to be born a man How often hath my patience built dear Lord Vain tow'rs of Hope upon thy gracious Word How often hath thy Hope reviving Grace Woo'd my suspitious eyes to seek thy face How often have I sought thee Oh how long Hath expectation taught my perfect tongue Repeated pray'rs yet pray'rs could ne'r obtain In vain I seek thee and I beg in vain If it be high presumption to behold Thy face why didst thou make mine eyes so bold To seek it If that object be too bright For mans aspect why did thy lips invite Mine eye t' expect it If it might be seen Why is this envious curtain drawn between My darkned eye and it O tell me why Thou dost command the thing thou dost deny Why dost thou give me so unpâ—…iz'd a treasure And then deny'st my greedy soul the pleasure To view thy gift Alas that gift is void And is no gift that may not be enjoy'd If those refulgent beams of Heav'ns great light Guild not the day what is the day but night The drouzie shepherd sleeps flow'rs droop and fade The birds are sullen and the beast is sad But if bright Titan dart his golden ray And with his riches glorifie the day The jolly shepherd pipes flow'rs freshly spring The beast growes gamesome and the birds they sing Thou art my Sun great God O when shall I View the full beams of thy Meridian eye Draw draw this fleshly curtain that denies The gracious presence of thy glorious eyes Or give me faith and by the eye of grace I shall behold thee though not face to face S. AUGUST in Psal. 39. Who created all things is better then all things who beauâ—…ified all things is more beautifull then all things who made strength is stronger then all things who made great things is greater then all things Whatsoever thou lovest he is that to thee Learn to love the workman in his work the Creatour in his creature Let not that which was made by him possesse thee lest thou lose him by whom thy self was made S. AUGUST Med. cap. 37. O thou most sweet most gracious most amiable most fair when shall I see thee when shall I be satisfied with thy beautie When wilt thou lead me from this dark dungeon that I may consesse thy name EP 10. 12. How art thou shaded in this veil of night Behind thy curtain slesh thou seest no light But what thy pride doth challenge as her own Thy slesh is 〈◊〉 soul take this curtain down XIII PSALM 55. 6. O that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would flie away and be at rest 1 ANd am I sworn a dunghill slave for ever To earths base drudg'ry shall I never find A night of rest shall my indentures never Be cancell'd did injurious Nature bind My soul earths prentice with no clause to leave her No day of freedome must I ever grind O that I had the pinions of a Dove That I might quit my bands and sore above And poure my just complaints before the great Jehove 2 How happy are the Doves that have the pow'r When ere they please to spread their ayry wings Or cloud-dividing Eagles that can
sinfull flesh and bloud To lend the smallest step to what is good My God I cannot move the least degree Ah! If but onely those that active be None should thy glory see none should thy glory see But if the Potter please t' inform the clay Or some strong hand remove the block away Their lowly fortunes soon are mounted higher That proves a vessâ—…l which before was mire And this being hewn may serve for better use then sire And if that life-restoring voyce command Dead Laz'rus forth or that great Prophets hand Should charm the sullen waters and begin To becken or to dart a stick but in Dead Laz'rus must revive and th' Axe must sloat again Lord as I am I have no pow'r at all To heare thy voyce or echo to thy call The gloomy Clouds of mine own guilt benight me Thy glorious beams nor dainty sweets invite me They neithâ—…r can direct nor these at all delight me See how my sin-bemangled body lies Nor having pow'r to will nor will to rise Shine home upon thy Creature and inspire My livelesse will with thy regen'rate fiâ—…e The first degree to do is onely to desire Give me the pow'r to will the will to do O raise me up and I will strive to go Draw me O draw me with thy treble twist That have no pow'r but merely to resist O lend me strength to do and then command thy list My Soul 's a Clock whose wheels for want of use And winding up being subject to th' abuse Of eating â—…ust wants vigour to fulfill Her twelve houres task and shew her makers skill But idly sleeps unmov'd and standeth vainly still Great God it is thy work and therefore good If thou be pleas'd to cleanse it with thy blood And wind it up with thy soul-moving keyes Her busie wheels shall serve thee all her dayes Her hand shall point thy pow'r her hammer strike thy praise S. BERN. Serm. 21. in Cant. Let us run let us run but in the savour of thy Ointments not in the confidence of our merits nor in the greatnesse of our strength we trust to run but in the multitude of thy mercies for though we run and are willing it is not in him that willeth nor in him that runneth but in God that sheweth mercy O let thy mercy return and we will run Thou like a Gâ—…ant runnest by thy own power we unlesse thy ointment breath upon us cannot run EPIG. 8. Look not my Watch being once repair'd to stand Expecting motion from thy Makers hand H' as wound thee up and cleans'd thy Cogs with blood If now thy wheels stand still thou art not good IX CANTICLES 8. 1. O that thou wert as my brother that sucked the breasts of my mother I would find thee without and I would kisse thee 1 COme come my blessed Infant and immure thee Within the Temple of my sacred arms Secure mine arms mine arms shall then secure thee From Herods fury or the high-Priests harms Or if thy danger'd life sustain a losse My folded arms shall turn thy dying crosse 2 But ah what savage Tyrant can behold The beauty of so sweet a face as this is And not himself be by himself controul'd And change his fury to a thousand kisses One smile of thine is worth more mines of treasure Then there be Myriads in the dayes of Cesar 3 O had the Tetrarch as he knew thy birth So known thy stock he had not sought to paddle In thy dear bloud but prostrate on the earth Had vaild his Crown before thy royall Cradle And laid the Sceptre of his Glory down And begg'd a Heav'nly for an Earthly Crown 4 Illustrious Babe how is thy handmaid grac'd With a rich armfull how dost thou decline Thy Majesty that wert so late embrac'd In thy great Fathers arms and now in mine How humbly gracious art thou to refresh Me with thy Spirit and assume my flesh 5 But must the treason of a traitours Hail Abuse the sweetnesse of these â—…uby lips Shall marble-hearted cruelty assâ—…il These Alabaster sides with knotted whips And must these smiling Roses entertain The blows of scorn and flurts of base disdain 6 Ah! must these dainty liâ—…tle sprigs that twine So fast about my neck be pieâ—…c'd and torn With ragged nails and must these brows resigne Their Crown of Glory for a crown of thorn Ah must this blessed Infant tast the pain Of deaths injurious pangs nay worse be slain 7 Sweet Baâ—…e At what dear rates do wretched I Commit a sinne Lord ev'ry sin 's a dart And ev'ry trâ—…spasse lets a javelin slie And ev'ry javelin wounds thy bleeding heart Pardon sweet Babe what I have done amisse And seal that granted pardon with a kisse BONAVENT Soliloqu Cap. 1. O sweet Jesu I knew not that thy kisses were so sweet nor thy society so sweet nor thy attraction so vertuous For when I love thee I am clean when I touch thee I am chast when I receive thee I am a virgin O most sweet Jesu thy embraces defile not but cleanse thy attraction polluteth not but sanctifieth O Jesu the Fountain of uniâ—…ersall sweetnesse pardon me that I believed so late that so much sweetnesse is in thy embraces EPIG. 9. My burden 's greatest Let not Aâ—…las boast Impartiall Reader judge which bears the most He bears but Heav'n my folded arms sustain Heav'ns maker whom Heav'ns Heav'n cannot contain X. CANTICLES 3. 1. In my bed by night I sought him that my soul loved I sought him but I found him not THe learned Cynick having lost the way To honest men did in the height of day By Taper-light divide his steps about The peopled streets to find this dainty out But fail'd The Cynick search'd not where he ought The thing he sought for was not where he sought The Wisemens task seem'd harder to be done The Wisemen did by Staire-light seek the Sonne And found the Wisemen search'd it where they ought The thing they hop'd to find was where they sought One seeks his wishes where he should but then Perchance he seeks not as he should nor when Another searches when he should but there He fails not seeking as he should nor where Whose soul desires the good it wants and would Obtain must seek Where As and When he should How often have my wild affections led My wasted soul to this my widdow'd bed To seek my Lover whom my soul desires I speak not Cupid of thy wanton fires Thy fires are all but dying sparks to mine My flames are full of Heav'n and all Divine How often have I sought this bed by night To find that greater by this lesser light How oft have my unwitnest grones lamented Thy dearest absence Ah how often vented The bitter tempests of despairing breath And tost my soul upon the waves of death How often has my melting heart made choice Of silent tears tears louder then a voyce To plead my grief and woo thy absent eare And yet thou wilt not come thou wilt