their jollities Or hadst thou lost thy Vineyard full of trees Hadst thou beene ravisht of thine onely Sheepe That in thy tender bosome us'd to sleepe How would thine â—asty spirit then bin stirr'd If thou art angry Ionah for a Gourd To which thus Ionah vents his idle breath Lord I doe well to vexe unto the death I blush not to acknowledge and professe Deserved rage I 'm angry I â—onfesse ' I would make a spirit that is thorow frozen To blaze like flaming Pitch and fry like Rozen Why dost thou aske that thing that thou canst â—ell Thou know'st I 'm angry ' and it beseemes me well So said the Lord to Ionah thus respake Doest thou bemoane and such compassion take Vpon a Gourd whose seed thou didst not sow Nor mov'd thy busie hands to make it grow Whose beauty small and value was but slight Which sprang as also perisht in a night Hadst thou O dust and ashes such a care Such in-bred pitty 'a trifling plant to spare Hadst thou O hard and incompassionate To wish the razing of so brave a State Hadst thou I say compassion to bewaile The extirpation of a Gourd so fraile And shall not I that am the Lord of Lords Whose Fountain's never dry but still affords Sweet streames of mercy with a fresh supply To those that thirst for grace What shall not I That am the God of mercy and have sworne To pardon sinners whensoe're they turne I say shall I disclaime my wonted pitty And bring to ruine such a goodly City Whose hearts so truely penitent implore me Who day and night powre forth their soules before me Shall I destroy the mighty Ninevie Whose people are like sands about the Sea 'Mong which are sixe score thousand Babes at least That bang upon their tender Mothers brest Whose pretty smiles could never yet descry The deare affection of their mothers eye Shall I subvert and bring to desolation A City nay more aptly term'd a Nation Whose walls boast lesse their beauty than their might Whose hearts are sorrowfull and soules contrite Whose Infants are in number so amounting And beasts and cottell endlesse without counting What Ionah shall a Gourd so move thy pity And shall not I spare such a goodly Citie Meditatio ultima MY heart is full my vent is too too straight My tongue 's too trusty to my poore conceit My mind's in labour and finds no redresse My heart conceives my lips cannot expresse MY organs suffer through a maine defect Alas I want a proper Dialect To blazon forth the tythe of what I muse The more I meditate the more accrewes But Io my faultring tongue must say no more Vnlesse she step where she hath trod before What shaâ—â— I then be silent No I le speake Till tongue be tyred and my lungs be weake Of dearest mercy in as sweet a straine As it shall please my â—use to lend a vaine And when my voice shall stop within her source And speech shall faulter in this high Discourse My tyred tongue unsham'd shall thus extend Onely to name Deare Mercy and so end ¶ Oh high Imperiall King heavens Architect Is Man a thing befittiâ—g thy â—espect Lord thou art Wisedome and thy wayes are holy But Man 's polluted full of filch and folly Yet is he Lord the tabricke of thy hand And in his Soule he beares thy glorious Brand Howe're defaced with the rust of Sin Which hath abus'd thy stamp and eaten in 'T is not the frailty ' of Mans corrupted nature Makes thee asham'd t' acknowledge Man thy Creature But like a tender Father here on earth Whose Childe by nature or abortive birth Doth want that sweet and favourable relish Wherewith her creatures Nature doth imbelish Respects him nerethelesse even so thy Grace Great God extends to Man though sin deface The glorious pourtraiture that man doth beare Whereby he loath'd and ugly doth appeare Yet thou within whose tender bowels are Deepe gulfes of Mercy sweet beyond compare Regard'st and â—ov'st with rev'rence â—e it said Nay seem'st to dote on Maâ— when he hath straid Lord thou hast broâ—ght him to his Fold againe When he was lost thou didst not then disdaine To thinke upon a vagabond and give Thy dearest Sonne to dye that he might live How poore a mite art thou content withall That â—an may â—cape his downeâ—approching fall Though base we are yet thou dost not abhorre us But as our Story speaks art pleading for us To save us harmelesse from our Foe-mans jawes Art thou turn'd Orator to plead our cause ¶ How are thy Mercies full of admiration How soveraigne how sweet's their application Fatning the Soule with sweetnesse and repayring The rotten ruines of a Soule despairing ¶ Lo here Malfido is a Feast prepar'd Fall to with courage and let nought be spar'd Tast freely of it Here 's no Misers Feast Eate what thou canst and pocket up the rest These precious Viands are Restoritie Eate then and if the sweetnesse make thee drie Drinke large Carouses out of Mercies Cup The best lies in the bottome Drinke all up These Cates are sweet Ambrosia to thy Soule And that which fills the brim of Mercies bowle Is dainty Nectar Eate and drinke thy fill Spare not the one nor yet the other spill Provide in time Thy Banquet is begun Lay up in store against the Feast be done For loe the time of banquetting is short And once being done the world cannot restor't It is a feast of Mercy and of Grace It is a Feast for all or high or base A feast for him that begs upon the way As well for him that does the Scepter sway A feast for him that howerly bemoanes His dearest sins with sighs and teares and groaneâ— A feast for him whose gentle heart reformes A feast for MEN and so a FEAST FOR WORMES ¶ Deare liefest Lord that feast'st the World with gracâ— Extend thy bounteous hand thy glorious face Bid ioyfull welcome to thy hungry guest That we may praise the Master of the Feast And in thy mercy grant this boone to mee That I may dye to sinne and live to thee S. AMBROSE Misericordia est plenitudo omnium virtutum FINIS THE GENERALL VSE OF this HISTORY ¶ WHen as the ancient world did all imbark Within the compass of good Noahs Arke Forth to the new-washt earth a Dove was sent Who in her mouth return'd an Olive plant Which in a silent language this related How that the waters were at length abated Those swelling waters is the wrath of God And like the Dove are Prophets sent abroad The Olive-leafe's a joyfull Type of peace A faithfull signe Gods vengeance doth decrease They salve the wounded heart and make it whole They bring glad tydings to the drooping soule Proclaiming grace to them that thirst for Grace Mercy to those that Mercy will embrace ¶ Malfido thou in whose distrustfull brest Despaire hath brought in sticks to build her nest Where she may safely lodge her lucklesse brood To feed upon thy
not doe What then is man but Nothing being Evill His Lunatike affections doe unlevell What Heaven created by just Waight and measure In pleasures sinke he takes a swine like Pleasure His span of life and beauties like a Flower Faire flourishing and fading in an hower He breakes into the world with teares and then Departs with Griefe not knowing how nor when His life 's a Bubble full of seeming Blisse The more it lengthens the more short it is Begot in darknesse he 's brought forth and cries For succour passes ore the stage and dyes Yet like a Moale the earth he undermines Making the World the Forge of his designes He plots complots for esees prevents directs Hee hopes he feares he doubts pursues effects Each hath his plot each one his course doth bend Each hath his project and each one his end Thus restlesse man doth still his soule molest To finde out that which hath no being Rest Thus travels sinfull man in endlesse toyle Taking a pleasure in his owne turmoyle Fond man first seeke to purchase that divine And sacred prize and all the world is thine Great Salomon made suit for Wisdome and he found Not barely Wisdome but that Wisdome crown'd With Diadems of wealth and faire encrease Of Princely Honour with long dayes of Peace With safe respect and awfull reverence To Myst'ries Meditation doth commence An earnest doubt Was Iobs dispoiled Flock Restored double Was his former Stock Renew'd with double vantage Did heaven adde To all his fortunes double what he had Yet those sweet Emblemes of his dearest love His sonnes whom death untimely did remove From off the face of the unthankfull earth Why likewise sprang not they in double birth Bruit beasts that perish once are lost for ever Their substance and their All consumes together Once having given a farewell to the light They dye and with them is perpetuall night But man unorgan'd by the hand of Death Dyes not is but transplanted from beneath Into a fairer soyle or as a stranger Brought home secure from the worlds pleasing danger Iobs flocks were lost and therefore double given His Issue 's equall shar'd 'twixt Earth and Heaven One halfe in heav'n are glorious in their doome Ingag'd as Pledges till the other come Great God! my Time 's but short and long my way My Heart hath lost her Path and gone astray My spirit 's faint and fraile my soule 's imbost If thou helpe not I am for ever lost Though Dust and Ashes yet I am thy Creature Howe're my sinnes are great thy Mercie 's greater Of nothing didst thou make me and my sinne Hath turn'd me back to nothing once agin Create me a new heart great God inspire My cold affections with thy sacred fire Instruct my Will and rectifie my Wayes O teach me Lord to number out my Dayes The Digestion of the whole HISTORY 1 In Prosperity THou whose lank fortunes heav'n hath swel'd with store Make not thy selfe by over-wishing poore Husband that good which else abuse makes bad Abstracting where thy base desire would adde Lines flowing from a Sophoclean quill Deserve no Plaudit being acted ill 2 In Adversity Hath heav'n withdrawn the talent he hath giv'n thee Hath envious Death of all thy Sons bereaven thee Have soule Diseases foil'd thee on the floore He earnes no sweet that never tasted sowre Thou art a Scholler if thy Tutor doe Pose thee too hard he will instruct thee too 3 In Tentation Art thou oppos'd to thine unequall Foe March bravely on thy Gen'rall bids thee goe Thou art heav'ns Champion to maintain his right Who cals thee forth wil give thee strength to fight God seekes by conquest thy renowne for He Will win enough Fight thou or Faint or Flee 4 In Slander If Winter fortunes nip thy Summer Friends And tip their tongues with Censure that offends Thy tender Name despaire not but be wise Know Heaven selecteth whom the world denies Thou hast a milke-white Thisâ—y that's within 〈◊〉 Will take thy part when all the world's â—giâ— thee 5 In Re-advancement Art thou advanc'd to thy supreme desier Be still the same Feare Lower aime no higher Mans Play hath many Sceanes but in the last Heaven knits up all to sweeten all that 's past Affliction is a Rod to scourge us home An 'a painfull earnest of a Heaven to come The end THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER for I. MARRIOTT in S. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street 1632. To the READER THe tyranny of my affaires was never yet so imperious but I could steale some howers to my private Meditations the fruits of which stolne time I here present thee with in the History of Samson Wherein if thy extreme severity check at any thing which thou conceivest may not stand with the Majesty of this sacred Subject know that my intention was not to offend my brother The wisest of Kings inspired by the King of Wisdome thought it no detraction from the gravity of his Holy Proverbs to describe a Harlot like a Harlot Her whorish Attire her immodest Gesture her bold Countenance her flattering Tongue her lascivious Embraces her unchast Kisses her impudent Invitations If my descriptions in the like kinde offend I make no question but the validitie of my Warrant will give a reasonable satisfaction He that lifts not his feet high enough may easily stumble But on the contrary if any be whose worse then sacrilegious minds shall prophane our harmles intentions with wanton conceits to such I heartily wish a Procul Ite Let none such looke farther then this Epistle at their own perils If they doe let them put off their shoos for this is holy Ground Foule hands will muddle the clearest waters base minds will corrupt the purest Text If any offence be taken it is by way of stealth for there is none willingly given I write to Bees and not to Spiders They will sucke pleasing honey from such flowers These may burst with their owne poyson But you whose well-seasond hearts are not distempered with either of these extremities but have the better relish of a Sacred understanding draw neere and reade I Sing th' illustrious and renowned Story Of mighty Samson The eternall glory Of his Heroicke acts His life His death Quicken my Muse with thy diviner breath Great God of Muses that my prosp'rous Riâ—es May live and last to everlasting times That they unborne may in this sacred Story Admire thy goodnes and advance thy glory THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON THE ARGVMENT A holy Angell doth salute The wife of Manoah and inlarge Her barren wombe with promis'd fruit Of both their loynes The Angles charge Sect. 1. WIthin the Tents of Zorah dwelt a man Of Iacobs seed and of the Tribe of Dâ—n Knowne by the name of Maenoah to whom Heaven had deny'd the treasure of the wombe His Wife was barren And her prayers could not Remove that great reproach or clense that blot Which on her fruitlesse name appear'd
makes His God of counsell where he undertakes How is our God and wee of late falne out We rather chuse to languish in our doubt Then be resolv'd by him We rather use The helpe of hell-bred wizzards that abuse The stile of wise menâ— then to have recourse To him that is the Fountaine and the sourse Of all good Counsels and from whom proceeds A living Spring to water all our needs How willing are his Angels to descend From off their throne of Glory and attend Vpon our wants How oft returne they back Mourning to heaven as if they griev'd for lack Of our imployment O how prone are they To be assistant to us every way Have wee just cause to joy They 'll come and sing About our beds Does any judgement bring Iust cause of griefe they 'll fall a grieving too Doe we triumph their joyfull mouthes will blow Their louder Trumpets Or doe feares affect us They 'l guard our heads from danger protect us Are we in prison or in Persecution They 'l fill our hearts with joy and resolution Or doe we languish in our sickly beds They 'l come pitch their Tents about our heads See they a sinner penitent and mourne For his bewail'd offences and returne They clap their hands and joyne their warbling voyces They sing and all the Quire of Heaven rejoyces What is in us poore Dust and Ashes Lord That thou should'st looke upon us and afford Thy precious favours to us and impart Thy gracious Counsels what is our desert But Death and Horror What can we more clame Then they that now are scorching in that flame That hath nor moderation rest nor end How does thy mercy above thought extend To theÌ„ thou lov'st Teach me great God to prize Thy sacred Counsels open my blinde eyes That I may see to walke the perfect way For as I am Lord I am apt to stray And wander to the gulph of endlesse woe Teach me what must be done and helpe to doe THE ARGVMENT Manoah desires to understand but is deny'd the Angels name He offers by the Angels hand the Angel vanishes in a flame Sect. 5. SO said The sonne of Israel easly apt To credit what his soule desir'd and rapt With better hepes which serv'd him as a guide To his beliefe o'rejoy'd he thus replide Let not the man of God whose Heavenly voyce Hath blest mine eare and made my soule rejoyce Beyond expression now refuse to come Within my Tent and honour my poore home With his desired presence there to taste His servants slender diet and repast Vpon his Rurall fare These hands shall take A tender Kidde from out the flockes and make Without long tarriance some delighfull meate Which may invite the man of God to eate Come come my Lord and what defect of food Shall be thy servants welcome shall make good Whereto the Angel who as yet had made Himselfe unknowne reanswer'd thus and said Excuse me Though thy hospitable love Prevaile to make me stay it cannot move My thankfull lips to taste thy liberall cheare Let not thy bounty urge in vaine Forbeare To strive with whom thy welcome cannot leade To eate thy Kid or tast thy profer'd bread Convert thy bounty to a better end And let thy undefiled hands commend A burnt oblation to the King of Kings 'T is he deserves the thanks his servant brings But that bare message which his lips enjoyne His be the glory of the Act not mine Said then the Israelite If my desire Be not too over-rash but may conspire With thy good pleasure let thy servants eare Be honourd with thy name that whensoere These blessed tidings that possesse my heart With firme beleefe shall in due time impart Their full perfection and desir'd successe To my expecting eye my soule may blesse The tongue that brought the message and proclaime An equall honour to his honour'd name To whom the Angell whose severer brow Sent forth a frowne made answere Doe not thou Trouble thy busie thoughts with things that are Above thy reach Enquier not too farre My name is cloath'd in mists 'T is not my taske To make it knowne to thee nor thine to aske With that the Danite tooke a tender Kid And said my Lord The Tribe of Dan's forbid To burne an offering Onely Levites may And holy Prophets If thou please to lay The sacrifice on yonder sacred Stone I 'le fetch thee fire for fier there is none Forheare thy needlesse paines the Angell said Heaven will supply that want With that he laid The offering on and from the stone there came A sudden fire whose high ascending flame Burnt and consum'd th'accepted Sacrifice Now whilst th' amaz'd beholders wondring eyes Were taken Captives with so strange a sight And whilst the new-wrought miracle did affright Their treÌ„bling harts the Man of God whose name Must not b'inquired vanisht in the flame And left them both unable to expound Each others feares both groveling on the ground Meditat. 5. A Thankfull heart hath earnd one favour twice But he that is ungratefull wants no vice The beast that onely lives the life of Sense Prone to his severall actions and propense To what he does without th' advice of will Guided by nature that does nothing ill In practicke Maximes proves it a thing hatefull T' accept a Favoâ—r and to live ungratefull But man whose more diviner soule hath gain'd A higher step to reason nay attain'd A higher step then that the light of grace Comes short of them and in that point more base Then they most prompt and perfect in that rude Vnnaturall and high sinne Ingratitude The Stall-fed Oxe that is growne fat will know His carefull feeder and acknowledge too The prouder Stallion will at length espie His Masters bounty in his Keepers eye The ayre-dividing Faulkon will requite Her Faulkners paines with a well pleasing flight The generous Spaniell loves his Masters eye And licks his fingers though no meate be by But Man ungratefull Man that 's borne and bred By Heavens immediate pow'r maiâ—tain'd and fed By his providing hand observ'd attended By his indulgent grace preserv'd defended By his prevailing arme this Man I say Is more ungratefull more obdure than they By him we live and move from him we have What blessings he can give or we can crave Food for our hunger Dainties for our pleasure Trades for our buisnes Pastimes for our leasure In griefe he is our Ioy in want our Wealth In bondage Freedome and in sicknesse Health In peace our Counsell and in warre our Leader At Sea our Pilot and in Suites our Pleader In paine our Helpe in Triumph our Renowne In life our Comfort and in death our Crowne Yet Man O most ungratefull Man can ever Enjoy the Gift but never mindâ— the Giver And like the Swine though pamper'd with enough His eyes are never higher than the Trough We still receive our hearts we seldome lift To heaven but drowne the giver in the Gift We taste the
DIVINE POEMES Reuised and Corrected with Additions By the Author Fra Quarles Printed for Iohn Marriott in St Dunstons Church yard 〈…〉 DIVINE POEMS Containing The History of IONAH ESTER IOB SAMPSON SIONS SONETS ELEGIES Written and newly augmented BY FRA QVARLES LONDON Printed by M. F. for I. MARRIOT and are to be sold at his Shop in St. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-streete TO THE SACRED MAIESTIE of King CHARLES SIR WHen your Landed Subject dyes and leaves none of his Blood to inherite the Lawes of this your Kingdome finds the King heyre In this Volume are contained severall Poems lately dedicated to divers of your Nobility whom they have out-lived So that the Muses who seldome or never give honour for lifes have found them all for the King which have here gathered together and prostrated before the feet of your Sacred Majesty Indeed one of them I formerly dedicated and presented to your selfe So that now they are become doubly yours both by Escheate and as Survivour And if you please to owne me as your servant your Majestie hath another Title good by which I most desire they should bee knowne yours I will not sin against the common good so much as to expect your Majesties serious eye upon them If when your Crowne shall be most favourable to your Princely browes you please to afford a gracious hearing they will with the helpe of some benevolous Reader and your Royall acceptance I hope relish in your sacred eares and receive honour from your accustomed goodnes farre above their merits or the expectation of Your true-hearted and loyall Liegeman FRA QVARLES To the READER I List not to tyre thy patient eares with unnecessary Language the abuse of Complementâ— My mouth 's no Dictionary it only serves as the needfull Interpreter of my Heart I have here sent thee the first fruits of an abortive Birth It is a daintie Subject not Fabulous but Truth it selfe Wonder not at the Title A FEAST FOR VVORMES for it is a Song of Mercy What greater FEAST than Mercy And what are Men but WORMES Moreover I have gleaned some few Meditatations obvious to the History Let mee advise thee to keepe the Taste of the one whilest thou readest the other and that will make thee relish both the better Vnderstanding Reader favour mee Gently expound what it is too late to correct He leva le Golpe Dios sea con ella Farewell THE PROPOSITION of this first Worke. â—TIs not the Record of great Hectors glory Whose matchlesse Valour makes the World a Story Nor yet the swelling of that Romans name That onely Came and Look'd and Overcame Nor One nor All of those brave Worthies nine Whose Might was great and Acts almost divine That live'd like Gods but dy'd like Men and gone Shall give my Pen a Taske to treat upon I sing the praises of the KING of Kings Out of whose mouth a two-edg'd Smiter springs Whose Words are Mystery whose Works are Wonder Whose Eyes are Lightning and whose Voice is Thunder Who like a Curtaine spreads the Heavens out Spangled with Starres in Glory round about 'T is He that cleft the furious waves in twaine Making a High-way passage through the Maine 'T is He that turn'd the waters into Blood And smote the Rocky stone and caus'd a Flood 'T is He that 's justly armed in his Ire Behinde with Plagues before with flaming Fire More bright than mid-day Phoebus are his Eyes And whosoever sees his Visage dyes I sing the Praises of Great Iudahs Lyon The fragrant Flowre of Iesse the Lambe of Sion Whose Head is whiter than the driven Snow Whose visage doth like flames of Fier glow His Loynes begirt with golden Belt his Eyne Like Titan ridinst in his Southerne Shine His Feet like burning Brasse and as the noise Of surgie Neptunes roaring in hiâ— Voice This is that Paschall Lambe whose dearest Blood Is soveraigâ—e Drinke whose Flesh is saving Food His precious Blood the Worthies of the Earth Did drinke which though but borne of mortall birth Return'd them Deities For who drinkes This Shall be receiv'd into Eternall Blisse Himselfe 's the Gift which He himselfe did give His Stripes heale us and by His Death we live He acting God and Man in double Nature Did reconcile Mankinde and Mans Creator I heere 's a Taske indeed If Mortalls could Not make a Verse yet Rockes and Mountaines would The Hills shall dance the Sunne shall stop his Course Hearing the subiect of this high Discourse The Horse and Gryphin shall together sleepe The Wolfe shall fawne upon the silly Sheepe The crafty Serpent and the fearfull Hart Shall joyne in Consort and each beare a part And leape for Ioy when my Vrania sings She sings the praises of the King of Kings The Introduction ¶ THat Ancient Kingdome that old Assur swayd Shew'd two great Cities Ah! but both decayd Both mighty Great but of unequall growth Both great in People and in Building both But ah What hold is there of earthly good Now Grasse growes there where these brave Cities stood The name of one great Babylon was hight Through which the rich Euphrates takes her flight From high Armenia to the ruddy Seas And stores the Land with rich Commodities ¶ The other Ninus Nineveh the Great So huge a Fabricke and well-chosen Seat Don Phoebus fiery Steeds with Maines becurl'd That circundates in twice twelve houres the world Ne're saw the like By great King Ninus hand 'T was rais'd and builded in th' Assyâ—ians Land On one hand Lycus washt her fruitfull sides On t'other Tygris with her hasty â—ides Begirt she was with walles of wondrous might Creeping twice fifty foot in measur'd height Vpon their bredth if ought we may rely On the report of Sage Antiquity Three Chariots fairely might themselves display And ranke together in a Baâ—tell ray The Circuit that her mighty Bulke imbraces Containes the mete of sixty thousand 〈◊〉 Within her well-fenc'd walls you might discover Five hundred stately Towers thrice told over Whereof the highest draweth up the eye As well the low'st an hundred Cubits hie All rich in those things which to state belong For beauty brave and for munition strong Duly and daily this great Worke was tended With ten thousand Workmen begun and ended In eight yeares space How beautifull how faire Thy Buildings And how foule thy Vices are ¶ Thou Land of Assur double then thy pride And let thy Wells of Ioy be never dry'd Thou hast a Palace that 's renown'd so much The like was never is nor will be such ¶ Thou Land of Assur treble then thy Wâ—â— And let thy Teares doe as thy Cups o'reflow For this thy Palace of so great renowne Shall be destroy'd and sackt and batter'd downe But cheere up Niniveh thine inbred might Hath meanes enough to quell thy Foemans spite Thy Bulwarkes are like Mountaines and thy Wall Disdaines to stoope to thundring Ordnance call Thy watchfull Towers mounted round about Keepe thee in safety and thy Foe-men out I
shall flye A lessning pitch to the deceived eye If in her Downy Soreage she but ruffe So strong a Dove may it be thought enough Beare with her Time and Fortune may require Your patient sufferance with a fairer flight The generall Application TO thee Malâ—idâ— now I turne my Quill That God is still that God and will be still The painfull Pastors take up Ionah's roome And thou the Ninivite to whom they coâ—e Medit. 1. HOw great 's the love of God unto his creature Or is his Wisedome or his Mercy greater I know not whether O th'exceeding love Of highest God! that from his Throne above Will send the brightnesse of his grace to those That grope in darknesse and his grace oppose He helpes provides inspires and freely gives As pleas'd to see us ravell out our lives He gives us from the heape He measures not Nor deales like Manna each his stinted lot But daily sends the Doctors of his Spouse With such like oyle as from the Widowes cruse Did issue forth in fulnesse without wasting Where plenty still was had yet plenty lasting I there is â—are in heaven and heavenly sprights That guides the world and guards poore mortall wights There is else were the miserable state Of Man more wretched and unfortunate Than salvage beasts But O th'abounding love Of highest God! whose Angels from above Dismount the Towre of Blisse flye to and fro Assisting wretched Man their deadly foe What thing is Man that Gods regard is such Or why should heaven love rechlesse Man so much Why what are men but quickned lumps of earth A Feast for Wormes a bubble full of mirth A Looking glasse for griefe A flash A minute A painted Toombe with putrifaction in it A mappe of Death A burthen of a song A winters Dust A worme of five foot long Begot in sinne In darknesse nourisht Bornâ— In sorrow Naked Shiftlesse and forlorne His first voice heard is crying for reliefe Alas He comes into a world of griefe His Age is sinfull and his Youth is vaine His Life 's a punishment His Death 's a paine His Life 's a houre of Ioy a world of Sorrow His death 's a winters night that findes no morrow Mans Life 's an Hower-glasse which being run Concludes that houre of joy and so is done Ionah must goe nor is this charge confinde To Ionah but to all the world enjoyn'd You Magistrates arise and take delight In dealing Iustice and maintaining Right There lyes your Niniveh Merchants arise And mingle conscience with your Merchandise Lawyers arise make not your righteous Lawes A tricke for gaine Let Iustice rule the cause Tradesmen arise and plye your thriving shops With truer hands and eate your meate with drops Paul to thy Tents and Peter to thy Net And all must goe that course which God hath set ¶ Great God awake us in these drowsie times Lest vengeance finde us sleeping in our Crymes Encrease succession in thy Prophets liew For loe thy Harvest 's great and workmen few THE ARGVMENT But Ionah toward Tharsis went A Tempest doth his course prevent The Mariners are sore opprest While Ionah sleepes and takes his rest Sect. 2. BVt Ionah thus bethought The City's great And mighty Ashur stands with deadly threat Their hearts are hardued that they cannot heare Will greene wood burne when so unapt's the seire Strange is the charge Shall I goe to a place Vnknowne and forraigne Aye me hard 's the case That righteous Isrâ—el must be thus neglected When Miscreants and Gentiles are respected How might I hope my words shall there succeed Which thrive not with the flockes I daily feed I know my God is gentle and enâ—linde To tender mercy apt to change his minde Vpon the least repentance Then shall I Be deem'd as false and shame my Prophecie O heavy burthen of a doubtfull mind Where shall I goe or which way shall I wind My heart like Ianus looketh to and fro My Credit bids me Stay my God bids Goe If Goe my labour 's lost my shame 's at hand If stay Lord I transgresse my Lords command If goe from bad estate to worse I fall If stay I slide from bad to worst of all My God bids goe my credit bids me stay My guilty feare bids fly another way So Ionah straight arose himselfe bedight With fit acoutrements for hasty flight In stead of staffe he tooke a Shipmans weed In stead of going loâ— he flyes with speed Like as a Hawke that overmatcht with might Doing sad penance for th'unequall fight Answâ—ring the Falkners second shout does flee From fist turnes tayle to foule and takes a tree So Ionah baulks the place where he was sent To Nineveh and downe to Iaffa went He sought enquired and at last he found A welcome Ship that was to Tharsis bound Where he may flye the presence of the Lord He makes no stay but straightway goes aboord His hasty purse for bargaine findes no leisure Where sinn delights there 's no account of treasure Nor did he know nor aske how much his Fare He gave They tooke all parties pleased are How thriftlesse of our cost and paines are we Great God of heaven and earth to fly from thee Now have the sailors drunke their parting cup They goe aboord The Sâ—â—les are hoisting up The Anchor 's wayd the keele begins t' obey Her gentle Rudder leaves her quiet Key Divides the streames and without winde or oare She easly glides along the moving shore Her swelling Canvace gives her nimbler motion Sh'outstrips the Tide and hies her to the Ocean Forth to the deepe she launches and outbraves The prouder billowes rides upon the waves She plies that course her Compas hath enjoindher And soone hath left the lessned land behind her By this the breath of heaven began to cease Calme were the Seas the waves were all at peace The flagging mainsaile flapt against her yard The uselesse Compasse and the idle Card Were both neglected Vpon every side The gamesome Porpisce tumbled on the Tide Like as a Mastisâ—e when restrain'd a while Is made more furious and more apt for spoile Or when the breath of man being bard the course At length breakes forth with a farre greater force Even so the miâ—der breath of heaven at last Le ts flye more fierce and blowes a stronger blast All on a sudden darkned was the Sky With gloomy clouds heavens more refulgent eye Was all obscur'd The aire grew damp and cold And strong mouth'd Bâ—reas could no longer hold Eolus le ts loose his uncontrouled breath Whose language threatens nothing under death The Rudder failes The ship's at random driven The eye no object ownes but Sea and Heaven The Welkin stormes and rages more and more The raine powres down the heavens begin to rore As they would split the massie Globe in sunder From those that live above to those live under The Pilot's frighted knowes not what to doe His Art 's amaz'd in such a maze of woe Faces grow sad
the grounds and how unstable How many Deities yet how unable Implore these gods that list to howle and barke They bow to Dagon Dagon to the Arke But hee to whom the seale of mercy 's given Adores Iehovah the Great God of Heaven Vpon the mention of whose sacred Name Meeke Lambs grow fierce the fierce Lions tame Bright Sol shall stop heaven shal turn his course Mountains shall dance and Neptune slake his force The Seas shall part the fire want his flame Vpon the mention of Iâ—hovah's Name A Name that makes the roofe of Heaven to shake The frame of Earth to quiver Hell to quake A Name to which all Angels blow their Trumps A Name puts frolicke man into his dumps Though ne're so blythe A Name of high renown It mounts the meeke and beats the loftie downe A Name divides the marrow in the bone A Name which out of hard and flintiâ— stone Extracteth hearts of flesh and makes relent Those hearts that never knew what mercy ment O Lord how great 's thy Name in all the Land How mighty are the wonders of thy hand How is thy glory plac't above the heaven To tender mouthes of Sucklings thou hast given Coercive pow'r and boldnesse to reproove When elder men doe what them not behoove O Lord how great 's the power of thine hand O God! how great 's thy Name in all the Land THE ARGVMENT The Prophet doth his fault discover Perswadeâ— the men to cast him over They row and toyle but doe no good They pray to be excus'd from blood Sect. 5. SO Ionah fram'd this speech to their demand Not that I seeke to traverse the command Of my deare Lord and out of minde perverse T' avoid the Ninivites doe I amerâ—e My selfe Nor that I ever heard you threat Vnlesse I went to Niniveh the great And doe the message sent her from the Lord That you would kill or cast me over-boord Doe I doe thiâ— 'T is my deserved fine You all are guiltlesse and the fault is mine T is I ' tâ—â— I alone 't is I am he The tempest comes from heaven the cause from me You shall not lose a haire â—or this my sâ—â— Nor perish for the fault that mine hath bin Lo I the man am here Lâ— I am he The root of all End your revenâ—e on me I fled th' Eternall God O let me then Because I fled my God so flie from men Redeeme your lives with mine Ah why should I Not guiltlesse live and you not guilty die I am the man for whom these billowes dance My death shall purchase your deliverance Feare not to cease your feares but throw me in Alas my soule is burthen'd with my sin And God is just and bent to his Decree Which certaine is and cannot alter'd be I am proclaim'd a Traitor to the King Of heaven an earth The windes with speedy wing Acquaint the Seas The Seas mount up on high And cannot rest untill the Traytor die Oh cast me in and let my life be ended Let Death make Iustice mends which Life offended Oh let the swellinâ— waters me enbalme So shall the Waves be still and Sea be calme So said th' amazed Mariners grew sad New Love abstracted what old Feare did adde Love called Pity Feare call'd vengeance in Love view'd the Sinner Feare beheld the Sin Love cry'd out Hold for better sav'd than spil'd But Feare cry'd Kill O better kill than kill'd Thus plung'd with Passions they distracted were Betwixt the hopes and doubts of Love and Feare Some cry'd out Save if this foule deed we doe Vengeance that haunted him will haunt us too Others cry'd No May rather death befall To one that hath deserv'd to dye then all Save him sayes one Oh save the man that thus His dearest blood hath profer'd to save us No sayes another vengeance must have blood And vengeance strikes most hard when most withstood In fine say all Then let the Prophet die And we shall live For Prophets cannot lye Loth to be guilty of their owne yet loth To haste poore Ionahs death with hope that both Th' approching evils might be at once prevented With prayers and paines reutter'd reattented They try'd new wayes despairing of the old Love quickens courage makes the spirits bold They strove in vaine by toile to win the shore And wrought more hard than erâ—e they did before But now both hands and hearts begin to quaile For bodies wanting rest must faint and faile The Seas are angry and the waves arise Appeas'd with nothing but a Sacrifice Gods vengeance stormeth like the raging Seas Which nought but Ionah dying can appease Fond is that labour which attempts to free What Heaven hath bound by a divine decree Ionah must die Heaven hath decreed it so Ionah must die or else they all die too Ionah must die that from his Lord did flie The Lott determines Ionah then must die His guilty word confirmes the sacred Lott Ionah must die then if they perish not If Iustice then appoint since he must die Said they us Actors of â—is Tragedy We beg not Lord a warrant to offend O pardon blood-shed that we must intend Though not our hands yet shall our hearts be cleare Then let not stainlesse consciences beare The pond'rous burden of a Murders guilt Or pay the price of blood that must be spilt For 〈◊〉 deare Lord it is thine owne decree And we sad ministers of Iustice be Meditat. 5. BVt stay a while this thing would first be known Can Ionah give himselfe and not his owne That part to God and to his Countrey this Pertaines so that a slender third is his Why then should Ionah doe a double wrong To deale himselfe away that did belong The least unto himselfe or how could hee Teach this Thou shalt not kill if Ionah be His life 's owne Butcher What was this a deed That with the Calling he profest agreed The purblinde age whose workes almost divine Did meerely with the oyle of Nature shine That knew no written Law nor Grace nor God To whip their conscience with a steely rod How much did they abhorre so foule a fact When led by Natures glimpse they made an act Selfe-murderers should be deny'd to have The charitable honour of a Grave Can such doe so when Ionah does amisse What Ionas Isr'els Teacher and doe this The Law of Charity doth all forbid In this thing to doe that which Ionah did Moreo're in charity 't is thy behest Of dying men to thinke and speake the best The mighty Samson did as much as this And who dare say that Samson did amisse If heavens high Spirit whisper'd in his eare Expresse command to doe 't No wavering feare Drew backe the righteous Abram's armed hand From Isaacks death secur'd by heavens command ¶ Sure is the knot that true Religion tyes And Love that 's rightly grounded never dyes It seemes a paradoxe beyond beliefe That men in trouble should prolong reliefe That Pagans to withstand a
Strangers Fate Should be neglective of his owne estate Where is this love become in later age Alas 't is gone in endlesse pilgrimage From hence and never to returne I doubt 'Till revolution wheele those times about Chill brests have starv'd her here and she is driven Away and with Astraea fled to heaven Poore Charity that naked Babe is gone Her honey's spent and all her store is done Her winglesse Bees can finde out ne're a bloome And crooked Aâ—â— doth usurpe her roome Nepenthe's dry and Love can get no drinke And curs'd Arâ—enâ—e flowes above the brinke Brave Mariners the world your names shal hallow Admiring that in you that none dare follow Your friendship 's rare and your conversion straÌ„ge From Paganisme to zeale A sudden change Those men doe now the God of heaven implore That bow'd to Puppets but an houre before Their zeale is fervent though but new begun Before their egge-shels were done off they runne And when bright Phoebus in a Summer tide New risâ—n from the bosome of his Bride Enveloped with misty fogges at length Breakes forth displaies the mist with Southerne strength Even so these Mariners of peerlesse mirrour Their faith b'ing veil'd within the mist of errour At length their zeale chac'd ignorance away They left their Puppets and began to pray ¶ Lord how unlimited are thy confines That still pursu'st man in his good designes Thy mercy 's like the dew of Hermon hill Or like the Oyntment dropping downward still From Aarons head to beard from beard to foote So doe thy mercies drench us round about Thy love is boundlesse Thou art apt and free To turne to Man when Man returnes to thee THE ARGVMENT They cast the Prophet over boord The storme alay'd They feare the Lord A mighty Fish him quick devoures Where he remained many houres Sect. 6. EVen as a member whose corrupted sore Infests and rankles eating more and more Threatning the bodies losse if not prevented The wise chirurgion all faire meanes attented Cuts off and with advised skil doth choose To lose a part then all the body lose Even so the feeble Sailors that addresse Their idle armes where heaven denyes successe Forbeare their thrivelesse labours and devise To roote that Evill from whence their harms arise Treason is in their thoughts and in their eares Danger revives the old and addes new feares Their hearts grow fierce and every soule applies T' abandon mercy from his tender eyes They cease t' attempt what heaven so long withstood And bent to kill their thoughts are all on blood They whisper oft each word is Deaths Alarme They hoyst him up Each lends a busie arme And with united powers they entombe His out-cast body in Thetis angry wombe Whereat grim Neptune wip't his fomy mouth Held his tridented Mace upon the South The windes were whist the billows danc't no more The storme allay'd the heavens left off to rore The waves obedient to their pilgrimage Gave ready passage and surceast their rage The skie grew cleare and now the welcome light Begins to put the gloomy clouds to flight Thus all on sudden was the Sea tranquill The Heav'ns were quiet and the Waves were still As when a friendly Creditor to get A long forborne and much-concerning debt Still plies his willing debter with entreats Importunes daily daily thumps and beates The batter'd Portals of his tyred eares Bedeafing him with what he knowes and heares The weary debter to avoid the sight He loathes shifts here and there and ev'ry night Seekes out Protection of another bed Yet ne'rethelesse pursu'd and followed His eares are still laid at with lowder volley Of harder Dialect He melancholy Sits downe and sighs and after long foreslowing T' avoid his presence payes him what is owing The thankfull Creditor is now appeas'd Takes leave and goes away content and pleas'd Even so these angry waves with restlesse rage Accosted Ionas in his pilgrimage And thundred Iudgement in his fearefull eare Presenting Hubbubs to his guilty feare The waves rose discontent the Surges beat And every moments death the billowes threat The weather-beaten Ship did every minuit Await destruction while hee was in it But when his long expected corps they threw Into the deepe a debt through trespasse due The Seagrew kinde and all her frownes abated Her face was smooth to all that navigated 'T was sinfull Ionah made her storme and rage 'T was sinfull Ionah did her storme asswage With that the Mariners astonisht were And fear'd Iehovah with a mighty feare Offring up Sacrifice with one accord And vowing solemne vowes unto the Lord. But he whose word can make the earth's foundatioÌ„ Tremble and with his Word can make cessation Whose wrath doth mouÌ„t the waves toss the Seas And make theÌ„ calme smooth wheÌ„ e're he please This God whose mercy runs on endlesse wheele And puls like Iacob Iustice by the heele Prepar'd a Fish prepar'd a mighty Whale Whose belly was both prison-house and baile For retchlesse Ionah As the two leaf'd doore Opens to welcome home the fruitfull store Wherewith the harvest quits the Plowmans hope Even so the great Leviathan set ope His beame-like Iawes prepar'd for such a boone And at a morsell swallow'd Ionah downe 'Till dewy-check't Aurora's purple dye Thrice dappell'd had the ruddy morning skie And thrice had spred the Curtaines of the morne To let in Titan when the day was borne Ionah was Tenant to this living Grave Embowel'd deepe in this stupendious Cave Meditat. 6. LO Death is now as alwaies it hath bin The just procured stipend of our sinne Sinne is a golden Causie and a Road Garnisht with joyes whose pathes are even broad But leads at length to death and endlesse griefe To torments and to paines without reliefe Iustice feares none but maketh all afraid And then fals hardest when t is most delaid But thou reply'st thy sinnes are daily great Yet thou sittst uncontrold upon thy seat Thy wheat doth flourish and thy barnes do thrive Thy sheepe encrease thy sonnes are all alive And thou art buxom and hast nothing scant Finding no want of any thing but want Whil'st others whom the â—quint-ey'd world counts holy Sit sadly drooping in a melancholy With brow dejected and downe-hanging head Or take of almes or poorely begge their bread But young man know there is a Day of doome The Feast is good untill the reck'ning come The time runnes fastest where is least regard The stone that 's long in falling falleth hard There is a dying day thou prosp'rous foole When all thy laughter shall be turn'd to Doole Thy roabes to tort'ring plagues fel tormenting Thy whoops of Ioy to howles of sad lamenting Thy tongue shall yell and yawle and never stop And wish a world to give for one poore drop To flatter thine intolerable paine The wealth of Pluto could not then obtaine A minutes freedome from that hellish rout Whose fire burnes and never goeth out Nor house nor land not measur'd heaps of wealth
first descend before the ball rebound It must be throwne with force against the ground The seed increases not in fruitfull eares Nor can she reare the goodly stalke she beares Vnlesse bestrow'd upon a mould of earth And made more glorious by a second birth So man before his wisedome can bring forth The brave exploits of truly noble worth Or hope the granting of his sinnes remission He must be humbl'd â—â—rst in sad contrition The plant through want of skill or by neglect If it be planted from the Sunnes reflect Or lacke the dew of seasonable showres Decayes and beareth neither fruit nor flowres So wretched Man if his repentance hath No quickning Sun-shine of a liuely Faith Or not bedew'd with showres of timely teares Or workes of mercy wherein Faith appeares His prayers and deeds and all his forced groanes Are like the howles of dogs and works of Drones The wise Chirurgeon first by letting blood Weakens his Patient ere he does him good Before the Soule can a true comfort finde The body must be prostrate and the minde Truly repentive and contrite within And loathe the fawning of a bosome sin But Lord Can Man deserve Or can his best Doe Iustice equall right which he transgrest When Dust and Ashes mortally offends Can Dust and Ashes make eternall mends Is Heaven unjust Must not the recompence Be full equivalent to the offence What mends by mortall Man can then be given To the offended Majesty of Heaven O Mercy Mercy on thee my Soule relyes On thee we build our Faith we bend our eyes Thou fill'st my empty strain thou fill'st my tongue Thou art the subject of my Swan-like song Like pinion'd pris'ners at the dying tree Our lingring hopes attend and wait on thee Arrain'd at Iustice barre prevent our doome To thee with joyfull hearts wee cheerly come Thou art our Clergy Thou that dearest Booke Wherein our fainting eyes desire to looke In thee we trust to read what will release us In bloody Characters that name of IESVS ¶ What shall we then returne the God of heaven Where nothing is Lord nothing can be given Our soules our bodies strength and all our pow'rs Alas were all too little were they ours Or shall wee burne untill our life expires An endlesse Sacrifice in Holy fires ¶ My Sacrifice shall bee my HEART intire My Christ the Altar and my Zeale the Fire THE ARGVMENT The Prophet discontented praye To God that he would end his dayes God blames his wrath so unreprest Reproves his unadvis'd request Sect 11. BVt this displeasing was in Ionah's eyes His heart grew hot his blood began to rise His eyes did sparkle and his teeth strucke fire His veines did boyle his heart was full ire At last brake forth into a strange request These words he pray'd and mumbl'd out the rest Was not O was not this my though O Lord Before I fled Nay was not this my word The very word my jealous language vented When this mis-hap might well have beene prevented Was there O was there not a just suspect My preaching would procure this effect For Lord I knew of old thy tender love I knew the pow'r thou gav'st my tongue would move Their Adamantine hearts I knew 't would thaw Their frozen spirits and breed relenting awe I knew great God upon their true repentance That thou determin'dst to reverse thy sentence For well I knew thou were a gracious God Of long forbearance slow to use the Rod I knew the power of thy Mercies bent The strength of all thy other workes outwent I knew the tender kindnesse and how loath Thou wert to punish and how slow to wrath Turning by Iudgements and thy plagues preventing Thy minde rever sing and of ev'll repenting Therefore O therefore upon this perswasion I fled to Tarshish there to make evasion To save thy credit Lord to save mine owne For when this blast of zeale is over-blowne And sackcloth left and they surcease to mourne When they like dogs shall to their vomit turne They 'll vilipend thy Sacred Word and scoffe it Saying was that a God or this a Prophet They 'll scorne thy judgements and thy threats despise And call thy Prophets Messengers of lyes Now therefore Lord bow downe attentive eare For ah my burthen's more than flâ—sh can beare Make speed O Lord and banish all delayes T' extinguish now the Taper of my dayes Let not the minutes of my time extend But let my wretched houres finde an end Let not my fainting spirits longer stay In this fraile mansion of distempered clay The threds but weake my life depends upon O cut that thred and let my life be done My brest stands faire strike then and strike againe For nought but dying can asswage my paine O may I rather dye than live in shame Better it is to leave and yeeld the game Than toyle for what at length must needs be lost O kill me for my heart is sore imbost This latter boone unto thy servant give For better 't is for me to dye than live So wretched Ionah But Iehovah thus What boot's it so to storme outragious Becomes it thus my servants heart to swell Can anger helpe thee Ionah dost thou well Medita 12. HOw poore a thing is maÌ„ How vain 's his mind How straÌ„ge how base wav'ring like the wind How uncouth are his wayes how full of danger How to himselfe is hee himselfe a stranger His heart 's corrupt and all his thoughts are vaine His actions sinfull and his words prophane His will 's deprav'd his senses are beguil'd His reason 's darke his members all defil'd His hasty feet are swift and prone to ill His guilty hands are ever bent to kill His tongue 's a spunge of venome or of worse Her practice is to sweare his skill to curse His eyes are fire-bals of lustfull fire And outward helps to inward foule desire His body is a well-erected station But full of folly and corrupted passion Fond love and raging lust and foolish feares Griefes overwhelmed with immoderate teares Excessive joy prodigious desire Vnholy anger red and hot as fire These daily clog the soule that 's fast in prison From whose encrease this lucklesse bâ—ood is risen Respectlesse pride and lustfull idlenesse Base ribbauld talke and loathsome drunkennesse Faithlesse Despaire and vaine Curiosity Both false yet double-tongu'd Hypocrisie Soft flattery and haughty-ey'd Ambition Heart-gnawing Hatred and squint-ey'd Suspition Selfe-eating Enâ—y envious Detraction Hopelesse distrust and too-too sad Dejection Revengefull Malice hellish Blasphemy Idolatry and light Inconstancy Daring Presumption wry-mouth'd Derisson Damned Apostasie Fond superstition ¶ What heedfull watch Ah what continuall ward How great respect and howerly regard Stands man in hand to have when such a brood Of furious hel-hounds seeke to suck his blood Day night and hower they rebell and wrastle And never cease till they subdue the Castle ¶ How slight a thing is man how fraile and brittle How seeming great is he How truly little
heart and sucke thy blood Beware betimes lest custome and permission Prescribe a title and so claime possession ¶ Despairing man whose burthen makes thee stoop Vnder the terror of thy sinnes and droop Through dull despaire whose too too sullen griefe Makes heav'n unable to apply reliefe Whose eares are dull'd with noyse of whips and chaines And yels of damned soules through tort'red pains Come here and rouze thy selfe unâ—eele those eyes Which sad Despaire clos'd up Arise Arise And goe to Nineveh the worlds great Palace Earths mighty wonder and behold the Ballace And burthen of her bulke is nought but sin Which wilfull she commits and wallowes in Behold her Images her fornications Her crying sinnes her vile abominations Behold the guiltlesse blood that she did spill Like Spring-tides in the streets and reeking still Behold her scorching lusts and taint desier Like sulph'rous Aetna blaze and blaze up higher She rapes and rends and theeves there is none Can justly call the thing he hath his owne That sacred Name of God that Name of wonder In stead of worshipping she teares in sunder She 's not enthrall'd to this Sin or another But like a Leper's all infected over Not onely sinfull but in sinnes subjection Shee 's not infected but a meere infection No sooner had the Prophet Heav'ns great Spy Begun an onset to his lowder Cry But she repented sigh'd and wept and tore Her curious hayre and garments that she wore She sate in ashes and with Sack-cloth clad her All drencht in brine that griefe cannot be sadder She calls a Fast proclames a prohibition To man and beast sad tokens of contrition No sooner pray'd but heard No sooner groan'd But pittied No sooner griev'd but moan'd Timely Repentance speedy grace procur'd The sore that 's salvd in time is eas'ly cur'd No sooner had her trickling teares ore-flowne Her blubber'd cheeks but heav'n was apt to mone Her pensive heart wip'd her suffused eyes And gently strok'd her cheekes and bid her rise No faults were seene as if no fault had bin Deare Mercy made a Quittance for her sin ¶ Malfido rouze thy leaden spirit bestirre thee Hold up thy drouzy head here 's comfort for thee What if thy zeale be frozen hard What then Thy Saviours blood will thaw that frost agen Thy pray'rs that should be servent hot as fier Proceed but coldly from a dull desier What then Grieve inly But do not dismay Who heares thy pray'rs will give thee strength to pray Though left a while thou art not quite giv'n ore Where Sinne abounds there Grace abounâ—eth more This this is all the good that I can doe thee To ease thy griefe I here commend unto thee A little booke but a great Mystery A great delight A little History A little branch slipt from a saving tree But bearing fruit as great as great mought be A small abridgement of thy Lords great love A message sent from heaven by a Dove It is a heavenly Lecture that relates To Princes Pastors People all Estates Their sev'rall duties ¶ Peruse it well and binde it to thy brest The rests the Cause of thy defect of rest But read it often or else read it not Once read is not observ'd and soone forgot Nor is 't enough to read but understand Or else thy tongue for want of wit 's prophan'd Nor is 't enough to purchase knowledge by it Salve heales no sore unlesse the party ' apply it Apply it then which if thy flesh restraines Strive what thou canst pray for what remaines The particular Application ¶ THen thou that art opprest with sad Despaire Here shalt thou see the strong effect of pray'r Then pray with faith servent without ceasing Like Iacob wrestle till thou get a blessing ¶ Here shalt thou see the type of Christ thy Saviour Then let thy suits be through his name and favour ¶ Here shalt thou finde repentance and true griefe Of sinners like thy selfe and their beliefe Then suit thy griefe to theirs and let thy soule Cry mightily untill her wounds be whole ¶ Here shalt thou see the meeknesse of thy God Who on Repentance turnes and burnes the Rod Repents of what he purpos'd and is sorry Here may ye heare him stoutly pleading for ye Then thus shall be thy meed if thou repent In stead of plagues and direfull punishment Thou shalt find mercy love and Heav'ns applause And God of Heav'n himselfe will plead thy cause ¶ Here hast thou theÌ„ compil'd within this treasure First the Almighties high and just displeasure Against foule sinne or such as sinfull be Or Prince or poore or high or low degree ¶ Here is descri'd the beaten Road to Faith ¶ Here maist thou see the force that Preaching hath ¶ Here is describ'd in briefe but full expression The nature of a Convert and his passion His sober Dyet which is thin and spare His clothing which is Sack-cloth and his Prayre Not faintly sent to heaven nor spatingly But piercing â—ervent and a mighty cry ¶ Here maist thou see how Pray'r true repeÌ„tance Do strive with God prevaile and turn his sentence From strokes to stroking from plagues infernall To boundlesse Mercies and to life Eternall ¶ Till Zephyr lend my Barke a second Gale I slip mine Anchor and I strike my saile FINIS O dulcis Salvator Mundi ultima verba quae tu dixisti in Cruce sint ultima mea verba in Luce quando amplius effari non possum exaudi tu cordis mei desiderium A HYMNE to GOD. WHo gives me then an Adamantine quill A marble tablet And a Davids skill To blazon forth the praise of my deare Lord In deepe-grav'n Characters upon record To last for times etcâ—nall processe suer So long as Sunne and Moone and Starres endure Had I as many mouthes as Sands there are Had I a nimble tongue for every Starre And every word I speake a Character And every minutes time ten Ages were To chaunt forth all thy prayse it no'te availe For tongues words and time and all would faile Much lesse can I poore Weakling tune my tongue To take a taske befits an Angels song Sing what thou canst when thou canst sing no more Weepe then as fast that thou canst sing no more Beblurre thy booke with teares and go thy wayes For every blurre will prove a booke of prayse Thine eye that viewes the moving Spheares above Let it give praise to him that makes them move Thou riches hast Thy hands that hold have them Let them give praise to him that freely gave them Thine armes defend thee then for recompence Let them praise him that gave thee such defence Thy tongue was given to praise thy Lord the Giver Then let thy tongue praise highest God for ever Faith comes by hearing thy Faith will save thee TheÌ„ let thine cars prais him that hearing gave thee Thy bea rt is beg'd by him whose hands did make it My Sonne Give me thy Heart Lord freeâ—y take