it Eyes â—ands and armes tongues eares and hearts of men Sing praise and let the people say Amen ¶ Tune you your Instruments and let them vary Praise him upon them in his Sanctuary Praise him within the highest Firmament Which shewes his Power and his Government Praise him for all his mighty Acts are knowne And suit thy praises to his high Renowne Praise him with Trump victorious shrill sharpe With Psaltry lowd and many-stringed Harpe With sounding Timbrell and the warbling Flute With Musicks full Interpreter the Lute Praise him upon the Maiden Virginalls Vpon the Clerick Organs and Cymballs Vpon the sweet Majestick Vyalls touch Double your joyes and let your prayse be such Let all in whom is life and breath give praise To heav'ns eternall God in endlesse dayes Let every Soule to whom a voyce is given Sing Holy Holy Holy Lord of Heaven For loe a Lambe is found that undertooke To break the seven-fold-Seale ope the BOOK◠¶ O let my life adde number to my dayes To shew thy glory and to sing thy praise Let every minute in thy praise be spent Let every head be bare and knee be bent To thee deare Lambe Who ere thy praises hide Clos'd be his Lippes and tongue for ever ty'de Hallelujah Gloria DEO in excelsis ELEVEN PIOVS Meditations 1. ¶ WIthin the holy Legend I discover Three speciall Attributes of God his Power His Iustice and his Mercy All uncreated Eternall all and all unseparated From Gods pure Essence and from thence proceeding All very God All perfect All exceeding And from that selfe-same text three names I gather Of great lehova Lord and God and Father The first denotes him mounted on his Throne In Power Majesty Dominion The second shewes him on his kingly Bench Rewarding Evill with equall punishments The third describes him on his Mercy-seat Full great in Grace and in his Mercy great ¶ All three I worship and before all three My heart shall humbly prostrate with my knee But in my private choice I fancy rather Then call him Lord or God to call him Father 2. ¶ IN hell no Life in heaven no Death there is In earth both Life and Death both Bale and Blis In Heaven 's all Life no end nor new supplying In hell 's all Death and yet there is no dying Earth like a partiall Ambidexter doth Prepare for Death or Life prepares for both Who lives to sinne in Hell his portion 's given Who dyes to sinne shall after live in Heaven ¶ Though Earth my Nurse be Heaven bee thou my Father Ten thousand deaths let me endure rather Within my Nurses armes then One to Thee Earths honour with thy frownes is death to mee I live on Earth as on a Stage of sorrow Lord if thou pleasest end the Play to morrow I live on Earth as in a Dreame of pleasure Awake me when thou wilt I wait thy leisure I live on Earth but as of life bereaven My life 's with thee for Lord thou art in Heaven 3. NOthing that e'r was made was made for nothing Beasts for thy food their skins were for thy clothing Flowers for thy smell and â—earbs for Cure good Trees for thy shade Their Fruit for pleasing Food The showers fall upon the fruitfull ground Whose kindly Dew makes tender Grasse abound The Grasse springs forth for beasts to feed upon And Beasts are food for Man but Man alone Is made to serve his Lord in all his wayes And be the Trumpet of his Makers praise ¶ Let Heav'n be then to me obdure as brasse The Earth as iron unapt for graine or grasse Then let my Flocks consume and never steed mee Let pinching Famine want wherewith to feed mee When I forget to honour thee my Lord Thy glorious Attributes thy Workes thy Word O let the Trump of thine eternall Fame Teach us to answer Hallow'd be thy Name 4. ¶ GOd built the World and all that therein is He framed yet how poore a part is his Quarter the Earth and see how small a rome Is stiled with the name of Christeâ— dome The rest through blinded ignorance rebels O're-runne with Pagans Turkes and Infidels Nor yet is all this little quarter his For though all know him halfe know him amisse Professing Chrâ—â—â— for lucre as they lâ—st And serve the triple Crowne of Anâ—â—â—hrist Yet is this little handfull much made lesser There 's many Lâ—â—ertines for one Prâ—fessour Nor doe Professours all professe aright ' Mong ' whom there often lurks an Hypocrite ¶ O where and what 's thy Kingdome blessed God Where is thy Scepter where 's thine iron Rod Reduce thy reck'nings to their totall summe O let thy Power and thy kingdome come 5. ¶ MAN in himselfe 's a little World Alone His Soul 's the Court or high Imperiall throne Wherein as Empresse sits the Vnderstanâ—ing Gently directing yet with awe Commanding Her Handmaid's will Affections Maids of Honour All following close and duely waiting on her But Sin that alwayes envi'd mans Condition Within this Kingdome raised up Division Withdrawne the Will and brib'd the false Affection That This no order hath nor That Election The Will proves Traitor to the Vnderstanding Reason hath lost her power and left commanding She 's quite depos'd and put to foule disgrace And Tyrant Passion now usurps her place ¶ Vouchsafe Lord in this little World of mine To raigne that I may raigne with Thee in thine And since my Will is quite of good bereaven Thy will be done in earth as 't is in Heaven 6 ¶ WHo live to sin are all but theeves to hearÌ„ And Earth They steale froÌ„ God take ungiveÌ„ Good men they rob such as live upright And being bastards share the freemans Right They 're all as owners in the owners stead And like to Dogs devoure the childrens bread They have and lacke and want that they possesse Vnhappy most in their most happinesse They are not goods but riches that they wast And not beâ—ng goods to ev'ls they turne at last ¶ Lord what I have let me enjoy in thee And thee in it or else take it from mee My store or want make thou or fade or flourish So shall my comforts neither change nor perish That little I enjoy Lord make it mine In making mee that am a Sinner thine 'T is thou or none that shall supply my need Great God Give us this day our daily bread 7. ¶ THe quick conceited Schoole-men doe approve A difference 'twixt Charity and Love Love is a vertue whereby we explaine Our selves to God and God to us againe But Charitie 's imparted to our Brother Whereby we trafficke one man with another The first extends to God The last belongs To Man in giving right and bearing wrongs In number they are twaine In vertue one For one not truely being t' other's none ¶ In loving God if I neglect my Neighbour My love hath lost his proofe and I my labour My Zeale my Faith my Hope that never failes me If
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
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
Prayer for the distressed people of Ierusalem and Sion GReat God before whose all-discerning eye The secret corners of mans heart doe lye As open as his actions which no Clowd Of secresie can shade no shade can shrowd Behold the Teares O hearken to the Cryes Of thy poore Sion Wipe her weeping eyes Binde up her bleeding wounds ô thou that art The best Chirurgeon for a broken heart See how the barb'rous Gentiles have intruded Into the Land of promise and excluded Those rightfull Owners from their just possessions That wander now full laden with oppressions Our Fathers ah their savage hands have slaine Whose deaths our Widdow-mothers weepe in vaine Our Springs whose Christall plenty once disburst Their bounteous favours to quench every thirst Our liberall Woods whose palsie-shaken tops To every stranger bow'd their yeelding lops Are sold to us that have no price to pay But sweat and toyle the sorrowes of the day Oppressors trample on our servile necks We never cease to groane nor they to vexe Famine and Dearth haue taught our hands t' extend To Ashur and our feeble knees to bend To churlish Pharoe Want of bread compells Thy servants to begge Almes of Infidels Our wretched Fathers sinn'd and yet they sleepe In peace and have left us their sonnes to weepe We we extracted from their sinfull loynes Are guilty of their sinnes Their Ossa joynes To our high Pelion Ah! their crimes doe stand More firmly ' entailed to us than our Land We are the slaves of servants and the scorne Of slaves of all forsaken and forlorne Hunger hath forc'd us to acquire our food With deepest danger of our dearest blood Our skins are wrinckled and the fruitlesse ploughs Of want have fallow'd up our barren browes Within that Sion which thy hands did build Our Wives were ravisht and our Maids defil'd Our savage Foe extends his barb'rous rage To all not sparing Sexe nor Youth nor Age They hang our Princes on the shamefull trees Of death respect no Persons no Degrees Our Elders are despised whose gray hayres Are but the Index of their doting yeares Our flowring youth are forced to fulfill Their painfull taskes in the laborious Mill Our children faint beneath their loads and cry Opprest with burdens under which they lie Sages are banisht foâ—â— Iudiciall Courts And youth takes no delight in youthfull sports Our joyes are gone and promise no returning Our pleasure 's turnd to paine our mirth to mourning Our hand hath lost her sword Our Head his Crowne Our Church her glory our Weale her high renowne Lord we have sinn'd and these our sins have brought This world of griefe O purchase dearely bought From hence our sorrowes and from hence our feares Proceed for this our eyes are blinde with teares But that aye that which my poore heart doth count Her sharpest torture is thy sacred Mount Sacred Mount Sion Sion that divine Seat of thy glory 's raz'd her tender Vine Laden with swelling Clusters is destroy'd And Foxes now what once thy Lambs enjoy'd But thou O thou eternall God whose Throne Is permanent whose glory 's ever one Vnapt for Change abiding still the same Though Earth consume Heaven dissolve her frame Why dost thou ah why dost thou thus absent Thy glorious face Oh wherefore hast thou rent Thy Mercy from us O! when wilt thou be Atton'd to them that have no trust but Thee Restore us Lord and let our soules possesse Our wonted peace O let thy Hand redresse Our wasted fortunes Let thine Eye behold Thy scattered Flock and drive them to their Fold Canst thou reject that people which thy Hand Hath chose and planted in the promis'd Land O thou the Spring of mercy wilt thou send No ease to our Afflictions no end The end AN ALPHABET OF ELEGIES VPON The much and truly lamented death of that famous for Learning Pietie and true Friendship Doctor AILMER A great favourer and fast friend to the Muses and late Arch-deacon of LONDON Imprinted in his Heart that ever loves his Memorie Written by FRA QVARLES Cum privilegio Amoris Doloris Dignum laude virum Musa vetat morâ— READERS GIve me leave to performe a necessary duty which my affection owes to the blesâ—ed memory of that reverend Prelate my much â—onoured Friend Doctor Ailmer Hee was one whose life and death made as full and perfect a Story of worth and goodnesse as earth would suffer and whose pregnant vertues deserve as faithfull a Register as earth can keepe In whose happy remembrance I have here â—â—usted these Elegies to Time and your favours Had he bin a Lampe to light me alone my priâ—ate griefes had beene sufficient but being a Sunne whose beames reflected on all all have 〈◊〉 interest in his memory To which end I recommend these memorialls to the publike in testimony of my undissembled affection and true pietie that I owe to so great an example of Vertue and Learning F. Q. FVNERALL ELEGIES ELEG 1. All you whose eies would learn to weepe draw neere And heare what none without full teares and hear Come marble eyes as marble as your hearts I 'le teach you how to weepe a teare in parts And you false eyes that never yet let fall A teare in earnest come and now ye shall Send forth salt fountaines of the truest griefe That ever sought to Language for reliefe But you you tender eyes that cannot beare An Elegie wept forth without a teare I warne you hence or at the most passe by Lest while you stay you soone dissolve and dye ELEG 2. BVt stay sad Genius How doe griefes transport Thy exil'd senses Is there no resort To forkt Parnassus sacred Mount No word No thought of Helicon No Muse implor'd I did invoke but there was none reply'd The nine were silent since Mâ—â—aenas dy'd They have forsaken their old Spring 't is said They haunt a new one which their tears have made Should I molest them with my losse 'T is knowne They finde enough to re-lament their owne I crave no ayde no Deity to infuse New matter Ah True sorrow needs no Muse. ELEG 3. CAll back bright Phoebus your sky-wandring steeds Your day is tedious and our sorrow needs No Sun When our sad soules have lost their light Why should our eyes not finde perpetuall night Goe to the nether world and let your rayes Shine there Bestow on them our share of dayes But say not Why lest when report shall show Such cause of griefe they fall a grieving too And pray the absence of your restlesse wayne Which then must be return'd on us againe Deare Phoebus graunt my suit if thou denie 't My teares shall blinde me and so make a night ELEG 4. DEath art thou growne so nice can nothing please Thy curious palate but such Cates as these Or hath thy ravenous stomach beene o'represt With common diet at thy last great feast 1625 Or hast thou fed so neere that there is none Now left but delicates to feed upon Or was this dish so
Vntill your land be turn'd a Golgotha And if my actions prove my words untrue Let Samson die and be accurs'd as you Medit. 14. GOd is the God of peace And if my brother Strike me on one cheeke must I turn the other God is the God of mercy And his childe Must be as he his Mercifull and milde God is the God of Love But sinner know His love abus'd hee 's God of vengeance too Is God the God of vengeance And may none Revenge his private wrongs but he alone What meanes this franticke Nazarite to take Gods office from his hand and thus to make His wrongs amends Who warranted his breath To threaten ruine and to thunder death Curious Inquisitor when God shall strike By thy stout arme thy arme may doe the like His Patent gives him power to create A deputie to whom he doth collate Assistant power in sufficient measure To exercise the office of his pleasure A lawfull Prince is Gods Lieutenant here As great a Maiesty as flesh can beare He is endued with all In his bright eye Cloath'd in the flames of Majesty doth lie Both life and death into his royall heart Heaven doth inspire and secretly impart The treasure of his Lawes Into his hand He thrusts his sword of Iustice and Command He is Gods Champion where his voice bids kill He must not feare t' imbrew his hands and spill Abundant bloud Who gives him power to doe Will finde him guiltlesse and assist him too O but let flesh and bloud take heed that none Pretend Gods quarrell to revenge his owne Malice and base Revenge must step aside When heavens uprighter Battels must be tride Where carnall glory or ambitious thurst Of simple conquest or revenge does burst Vpon a neighbouring Kingdome there to thrust Into anothers Crowne the warre 's not just 'T is but a private quarrell and bereft Of lawfull grounds 'T is but a Princely theft But where the ground 's Religion to defend Abused faith let Princes there contend With dauntles courage May their acts be glorious Let them goe prosperous and returne victorious What if the grounds be mixt Feare not to goe Were not the grounds of Sampsons Combate so Goe then with double courage and renowne When God shall mixe thy quarrels with his owne 'T is a brave conflict and a glorious Fray Where God and Princes shall divide the Prey THE ARGVMENT He burnes their standing corne makes void Their Land The Philistines enquire The cause of all their evill destroy'd The Timnite and his house with fire Sect. 15. AS â—agefull Samsons threatning language ceast His resolution of revenge increast Vengeance was in his thoughts and his desire Wanted no fuell to maintaine her fire Passion grew hot and furious whose delay Of execution was but taking day For greater payment His revengefull heart Boild in his brest whilst Fury did impart Her readie counsels whose imperious breath Could whisper nothing under bloud and death Revenge was studious quickned his conceit And sâ—rew'd her Engins to the very height At length when time had rip'ned his desires And puffing rage had blowne his secret fires To open flame now ready for confusion He thus began t' attempt his first conclusion The patient Angler first provides his baite Before his hopes can teach him to awaite Th' enjoyment of his long expected prey Revengefull Samson ere he can appay His wrongs with timely vengeance must intend To gaine the Instruments to worke his end He plants his Engines hides his snares about Pitches his Toiles findes new devices out To tangle wilie Foxes In few dayes That land had store his studious hand betrayes A leash of hundreds which he thus imploye As Agents in his rashfull enterprize With tough and force-enduring thongs of Leth He joynes and couples taile and taile together And every thong bound in a Brand of fire So made by Art that motion would inspire Continuall flames and as the motion ceast The thriftie blaze would then retire and rest In the close brand untill a second strife Gave it new motion and that motion life Soone as these coupled Messengers receiv'd Their fiercy Errand though they were bereiv'd Of power to make great hast they made good speed Their thoughts were diffring though their tailes agreed T' one drags and draws to th' East the other West One fit they runne another while they rest T' one skulks and snarles the t' other tugges and hales At length both flee with fire in their tailes And in the top and height of all their speed T' one stops before the other bee agreed The other pulls and dragges his fellow backe Whilst both their tailes were tortur'd on the racke At last both weary of their warme Embassage Their better ease discride a fairer passage And time hath taught their wiser thoughts to joyne More close and travell in a straiter linâ— Into the open Champion they divide Their straggling paces where the ploughmans pride Found a faire object in his rip'ned Corne Whereof some part was reapt some stood unshorne Sometimes the fiery travellers would seeke Protection beneath a swelling Reeke But soone that harbour grew too hot for stay Affording onely light to runne away Sometimes the full-ear'd standingâ—wheat must cover And hide their flames and there the flames would hover About their eares and send them to enquire A cooler place but there the flaming fire Would scorch their hides send theÌ„ sindg'd away Thus doubtfull where to goe or where to stay They range about flee forward then retire Now here now there wher ere they come they fire Nothing was left that was not lost and burn'd And now that fruitfull land of Iewry's turn'd A heape of Ashes That faire land while ere Which fild all hearts with joy and every eare With newes of plenty and of blest encrease The joyfull issue of a happy peace See how it lies in her owne ruines void Of all her happinesse disguis'd destroyd With that the Philistines whose sad reliefe And comfort 's deeply buried in their griefe Began to question they did all partake In th'irrecoverable losse and spake What cursed brand of Hell What more than Devill What envious Miscreant hath done this evill Whereto one sadly standing by replide It was that cursed Samson Whose faire Bride Was lately ravisht from his absent brest By her false father who before the feast Of nuptiall was a moâ—th expir'd and done By second marriage own'd another Sonne For which this Samson heav'd from off the henge Of his lost reason studied this revenge That Timnits falshood wrought this desolâ—tion Samson the Actor was but he th' occasion With that they all consulted to proceed In height of Iustice to revenge this deed Samson whose hand was the immediat cause Of this foule act is stronger than their lawes Him they referre to time For his proud hand May bring a second ruine to their land The cursed Timnite he that did divide The lawfull Bridgroome from his lawfull Bride And mov'd the
the God of Love's as blinde as hee 〈◊〉 that they brought poore Samson to the Hall 〈◊〉 as he past he gropes to finde the wall 〈◊〉 paâ—â— was slow His feet were lifted high 〈◊〉 tongue would taunt him Every scornfull eye 〈◊〉 filld with laughter Some would cry aloud 〈◊〉 in state His Lordship is growne proud 〈◊〉 bid his honour â—asle whilst others cast â—prochfull termes upon him as he past 〈◊〉 would salute him fairely and embrace 〈◊〉 wounded sides then spit upon his face 〈◊〉 would cry For shame for heare t' abuse 〈◊〉 high and great redeemer of the Iewes 〈◊〉 gibe and flout him with their taunts quip◠〈◊〉 others flurt him on the starting lips 〈◊〉 that poore Samson whose abundant griefe 〈…〉 hopes of comfort or reliefe Resolv'd for patience Turning round he made Some shift to feele his Keeper out and said Good Sir my painfull labour in the Mill Hath made me bold although against my will To crave some little rest If you will please To let the Pillour but afford some ease To my worne limmes your mercy should relieve A soule that has no more but thanks to give The keeper yeelded Now the Hall was filld With Princes and their People that beheld Abused Samson whilst the Roofe retain'd A leash of thousands more whose eyes were chainâ—â— To this sad Object with a full delight To see this flesh-and-blood-relenting sight With that the pris'ner turnd himselfe and pray'd So soft that none but heaven could heare and saidâ— My God my God Although my sinnes doe cry For greater vengeance yet thy gratious eye Is full of mercy O remember now The gentle promise and that sacred vow Thou mad'st to faithfull Abram and his seed O heare my wounded soule that has lesse need Of life then mercy Let thy tender eare Make good thy plenteous promise now and heare See how thy cursed enemies prevaile Above my strength Behold how poore and fraile My native power is and wanting thee What is there Oh what is there Lord in me Nor is it I that suffer My desert May challenge greater vengeance if thou wert â—xtreme to punish Lord the wrong is thine The punishment is just and onely mine I am thy Champion Lord It is not me They strike at Through my sides they thrust at thee 〈◊〉 thy Glory 't is their Malice lies 〈◊〉 at that when they put out these eyes 〈◊〉 their blood-bâ—dabl'd hands would flie 〈…〉 thou but cloth'd in flesh as I 〈◊〉 thy wrongs great God O let thy hand 〈◊〉 thy suffring honour and this land 〈◊〉 â—e thy power Renew my wasted strength 〈…〉 fight thy bâ—ttels and at length 〈◊〉 thy glory that my hands may do 〈◊〉 faithfull service they were borne unto 〈…〉 thy power that I may restore 〈◊〉 and I will never urge thee more 〈◊〉 having ended both his armes he laid 〈◊〉 the pillours of the Hall and said 〈◊〉 with the Philistines I resigne my breath 〈◊〉 let my God finde Glory in my death 〈◊〉 having spoke his yeelding body strain'd 〈◊〉 those Marble pillours that sustain'd 〈◊〉 pondrous Roofe They cracket and with their fall 〈◊〉 fell the Battlements and Roofe and all 〈◊〉 with their ruines slaughter'd at a blow 〈◊〉 whole Assembly They that were below 〈◊〉 their sudden deaths from those that fell 〈◊〉 off the top whilst none was left to tell 〈◊〉 horrid shreckes that filld the spatious Hall 〈◊〉 ruines were impartiall and slew all 〈◊〉 fell and with an unexpected blow 〈◊〉 every one his death and buriall too Thus di'd our Samson whose brave death has won 〈◊〉 honour then his honourd life had done 〈◊〉 di'd our Conquerour whose latest breath 〈◊〉 crown'd with Conquest triumph'd over death 〈◊〉 di'd our Sampson whose last drop of blood â—deem'd heavn's glory and his Kingdome 's good Thus di'd heavens Champion and the earths bright Glory The heavenly subject of this sacred Story And thus th' impartiall hand of death that gathers All to the Grave repos'd him with his fathers Whose name shall flourish and be still in prime In spight of ruine or the teeth of Time Whose fame shal last till heaven shal please to free This Earth from Sinne and Time shall cease to be Medita 23. WAges of sinne is death The day must come Wherin the equall hand of death must sum The severall Items of mans fading glory Into the easie totall of one Story The browes that sweat for Kingdomes and renown To glorifie their Temples with a Crowne At length grow cold and leave their honourd name To flourish in th' uncertaine blast of Fame This is the heighth that glorious Mortalls can Attaine This is the highest pitch of Man The quilted Quarters of the Earths great Ball Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreame Ambition to deserve Six foote of length and three of bredth must serve This is the highest pitch that Man can flie And after all his Triumph he must die Lives he in Wealth Does well deserved store Limit his wish that he can wish no more And does the fairest bounty of encrease Crown him with plenty and his dayes with peaceâ— It is a right hand blessing But supply Of wealth cannot secure him He must die Lives he in Pleasure Does perpetuall mirth 〈◊〉 him a little Heaven upon his earth â—eets he no sullen care no sudden losse 〈◊〉 coole his joyes Breathes hee without a crosse â—ants he no pleasure that his wanton eye 〈◊〉 crave or hope from fortune He must dye 〈◊〉 he in Honour Hath his faire desart â—â—tain'd the freedome of his Princes heart 〈◊〉 may his more familiar hands disburse 〈◊〉 liberall favors from the royall purse 〈◊〉 his Honour cannot soare too high 〈◊〉 palefac'd death to follow He must dye Lives he a Conqu'rour And doth heaven blesse 〈◊〉 heart with spirit that spirit with successe Successe with Glory Glory with a name To live with the Eternitie of Fame The progresse of his lasting fame may vye With time But yet the Conquerour must dye Great and good God Thou Lord of life and deth 〈◊〉 whom the Creature hath his being breath Teach me to underprize this life and I Shall finde my losse the easier when I dye So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire That when these vaine and weary dayes expire I may discard my flesh with joy and quit My better part of this false earth and it Of some more sinne and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of Glory The end SIONS SONETS Sung By SOLOMON the KING And PERIPHRAS'D By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER 1632. To the READERS REaders now you have them May the end of my paines be the beginâ—ing of your pleasures Excuse me for â—haring so high else give me leave to excuse my selfe Indeed I flew with Eagles feathers otherwise I had not flowne or falne It is the Song of Songs There present you with The Author King SOLOMON the wisest of Kings The matter mysticall the divinest of subjects