stop thine eares but rather win Thee to compassion on mee ' cause that I Am plunged in such deepes of misery By this my tyrannizing sin which striues Not only to destroy my soule but driues At theee also seeking to ouerthrow Thy worke of Grace and would not men should know The Riches of thy Goodnesse O my Lord Why i st thou stay'st so long speake but the word And all is done this shackled soule of mine In spight of all those pow'rs that do combine To force mee downe to Hell shall quickly fly Into so sweet a Heau'n of liberty In contemplation of thy Grace that hence I ne'r more shall bee brought into suspense Or doubtings of thy goodnesse but shall bee As one that hath his building sure with thee And cannot bee remou'd and then mine eye Shall haue its fill of that sweet Theorie Which earst I did so much desire whose light Will straight dispell these fearefull clouds of night Wherein my sins had veil'd mee vp and yeeld Such pleasing matter and so large a field Of praise to recreate my soule that I Shall hence bee raised vp so sweetly high As I was sadly low before and thence Shall haue so much of selfe-experience To speake of thine abundant loue that I Shall nothing else but prayse thee till I dye O then my Lord here let thy mercies come And raise mee vp lest I bee quite vndone In these so great extremities Aye mee My soule despaires to thinke where I shall bee If that thou yet deferre thy helpe for lo I 'm euery minute ready now to go Where-ere my sins and Satan dragge and they Will dragge mee sure to hell What shall I say Or doe or thinke Thou seest my miseries Farre better then my selfe and if thine eyes Can yet forbeare to pity mee Oh then Come come despaire come stifle vp my pen And let it weepe no more and cruell death Bee thou so kinde to stop my tedious breath That I may speake no more of griefe for lo I 'm wearied quite and can no further go And thus throwne downe 'twixt hope and feare I lye As one that hopes to liue hut feares to dye But here behold mid'st of this dreary storme Wherein my billowing sins and griefes had borne My soule into so many deepes that I Was on the point to sinke despaire and dye Behold I say when I had quite gi'en o're And e'en resolu'd to yeeld to Satans Lore Out of my great distractednesse wherein I oft was tempted to such deepes of sin Such foule abominable acts that I Dare not to name them to posterity For feare I should offend euen then I say When I was headlong running downe the way Tow'rds deaths accursed chambers where I 'gan To feele my selfe the miserable'st man That euer was on earth the time when I Was plunged in my great'st extremitie I 'gan to feele O what a ioy was this That long'd for Nuntius of my wonted blisse Begin to repossesse my soule and I Was raised vp againe so sweetly high As scarce I could beleeue my selfe to see Such wonders wrought so suddenly on mee And here mee thought with sweet inspired layes Hee 'gan againe my drooping soule to raise With these or such like happy notes Come come Thou sad despairing man lo I haue done With thee I see it is enough for thou Art too-too weake alas to striue and now Thou know'st thy selfe sufficiently and well Thou hast done so 't was meet that thou shouldest dwell So long on this sad Theame for mayst thou know In answer to thy quests this was to show Thy weakenesse to the full not that my selfe Was ignorant but thou vnhappy Elfe Wast hardly brought to search it out Againe To teach thee that thy lab'rings all were vaine Without my speciall helping-Grace for thou Mightst labour till thy death yet bee as now So farre to seeke as e're thou wast and hence This mayst thou learne for thy experience That Heau'n can ne'r bee won with workes altho These bee the way indeed by which yee go Thereto and these as signes of Grace do show That yee assuredly do thither go If they be good but all their good consists Alone in Grace from whence their beeing is But now poore soule that thou hast stai'd so long In these thy deepes and thence conceau'st a wrong That 's done to thee in that I should delay To grant thy sute though thou didst often pray And yearne indeed for Grace euen till thine eie And heart with teares and sighes were both worne dry And thou meane while most so opprest with sin With feares without with trembling stormes within That thou couldst neuer bee at rest nay more The tedious suffrings of thy sin-borne sore Had so bedull'd thy soule that faithlesly Thou here hadst yeelded to despaire and dy Know this I say for answer 't was my will It should bee so who gather good from ill First therefore know in all these dreary deepes Mine eye was ope on thee which neuer sleepes To keepe thee safe and my wise prouidence Ne'r suffred yet sins hainous violence To haue it's full Carreer on thee altho I suffred it indeed thus far to go To make thy very heart to bleed to see Those fearefull wounds it did inflict on thee VVhen I but left thee to thy selfe yet hence I taught thy soule this sweet experience To make thy soone appeale to me when sin Had made thee see the danger thou wast in But further yet here haply thou'lt reply Alas this answer will not satisfie Sin hath its full carreer on me for lo It drawes mee on e'en whe'r I will or no To giue consent to it euen so that I Am ready to enact what villany So ere the flesh inuites but that perchance I 'm hinderd by some outward circumstance Of feare or shame of men but woe is mee I doe not feele alas that feare of thee I would within my heart whence 't is that I Am ready here to sinke despaire and die For want of it and then how can it bee That sin can fuller yet carreer on mee Alas poore foule 't is true indeed I know Thy sins haue brought thy feeble man so low That thou art helplesse of thy selfe yea sure Vassal'd to Satan and could'st ne'r endure The least of these his heauy brunts if I Had not sustain'd thee by a sweet supply Of secret Grace but headlong wouldst haue run Downe to thine owne destruction wretched man Saue that I would not suffer thee and hence It is that thou hast had this happy sense Of these thine owne infirmities whence thou Despairing in thy selfe as t were didst vow Neuer to take thy rest till thou hadst won This sweet assurance that thou art my son O happy soule blest bee that day and houre Wherein thou chos'st so good a part to towre So high in thy desires as to depise Those gay allurements which
This dang'rous mist for lo th' ambitious braine Of man would needs aloft and fondly aime At nought but Deitie and he would be A God himselfe forsooth and who but he He 'd turne Creator too and vndertake To make of nought what God could neuer make A high prerogatiue indeed But see The cursed fall of pride when man would be Subsistent by himselfe scorning as 't were Dependency from God for soone as e'r He left his God alas I grieue to tell He falles into the very deepe of hell This Man himselfe did doe but when his will Was done he saw his worke and call'd it ill 'T was more then God could doe indeed for he Could nothing else but good as well we see In all his workes Thus most vnhappy man Brought forth this Monster sinne which quickly ran And spred abroad so fast its vip'rous brood That ill was greater growne by farre then good And man could say as well as God that he Had got a world too but of miserie Of woe of sinne of death of what you will But good for all that e'r he did was ill Thus when humanitie would climbe so hie As parallel with that great Deitie That made it lo it tumbles downe so low As loses quite it selfe for first we know Mans essence was immortall but as soone As man had sinn'd he brought that cursed doome Of lasting death vpon himselfe and all That after said Amen vnto his fall And thus men loos'd themselues became not men That 's mortall for they were immortall then And ' mongst the rest lo here vnhappy I A sinfull man a man of misery Am fallen downe for I as Adam did Would needs be doing what thou didst forbid Eate of th'vnlawfull tree be striuing too To doe a thing more then my God could do Something that was not good but here alas When I had seene the ill I brought to passe I gan abhorre my selfe and gan to know My miserable case that am so low As now I am And here I gan to see What man without dependency from thee Is of himselfe Alas he is not ought Or worse then so if ill be worse then nought But now great Lord I am a wretch so low And though in fury thou mayst iustly throw Me downe to Hell yet what were it for thee To wreake thy wrath on such a worme as mee What honour wert if some couragious Knight Should exercise the rigor of his might Vpon a dying Infant Would 't not be A higher part of vertue held if he Should pity the poore soule take and reuiue Its dying heart that when it was aliue And knew to speake it might in thanks haue said I owe to thee my being by whose aid I liue as now I doe yea sure and then How canst thou be more glorious with vs men Then by releeuing such poore soules as mine Which cannot helpe themselues and make vs thine By an eternall league that when we see How much we are beholding vnto thee We may reioyce in nothing else but this That we are thine and being thus in blisse I meane within thy bookes againe we may Be alwayes praysing thee as long as day Shall giue vs time to liue and when we goe From out this wildernesse of griefe and woe We may in thy eternall Canaan sing Eternall prayses vnto thee our King But further yet O Lord if misers wee May dare expostulate so much with thee Giue losers leaue to speake for misery Will force a man to speake although he die For vtt'ring of his minde and can I choose But vtter out my griefes although I lose What I haue lost already and vnlesse Thou heare my plaints and pitty my distresse I 'm sure I ne'r shall finde againe and than Pardon if that I speake but as a man A man and what is man or what am I That should not sin or that I should not dye Am I a God Oh no Thou know'st full well My brittle nature who can better tell Then him that made the same And can it be That man should paralell so much with thee As not to sin I meane as man that is VVithout thy Aidance when thou shalt dismisse Him of thy goodnesse and himselfe shall bee But as and of himselfe This were to thee A high indignitie As who should say There can by course of nature bee a day VVithout a Sun or more that goodnesse can Bee absolute and yet contain'd in man VVhich is indeed to say that there can bee Some good without dependency from thee And then all that is good would not bee so Because thou mad'st it good but where or no Thou wouldst which all our true Diuinitie Explodes as most abhorred Blasphemie Then let my Lord in mercy please to beare VVith poore humanitie and daine to heare Thy seruant yet to speake for lo my griefe VVill not bee silent till I finde reliefe VVhat wouldst thou more of mee should I fulfill Thy Lawes so good that cannot ought but ill Alas vnhappy wretch faine would I do The good thou would'st but I come thereto VVith hot intents I feele a cooling ill Arise within which quite against my â—ill Draws me aside and forces mee commit A sin I hate quite opposite to it And thus with Paul I am enforc'd to cry The euill that I would not that doe I The good I would I do not Thus I see There 's nothing good alas that dwells in mee That is within my flesh for if that I Do any thing that 's good t is from on hie No longer I that do it Lord but thee That dost vouchsafe thy Grace to worke in mee So great a good for if thou but with-hold Thy Grace awhile I presently wax cold Become a deadned Lumpe corrupt and foule Iust as the body when without a soule Vnapt for any good or else more nie As matters are in our Philosophy In ref'rence to their formes the forme we know Doth actuate the lumpish matter so That it is good for any thing whereto The same was made but of it selfe can do Nothing at all but is meere passiue dead Or like the body that 's without a head To guide the same or as an instrument By which the forme doth finish its intent Moues not but as t is mou'd So I to thee And more haue reference I cannot bee If thou sustaine mee not or if I am T is better that I were not for I can Bee nought but ill without thee Thou alone Art Soule and Forme and Head and all in one T'enlyuen actuate informe and guide This passiue piece which else could neuer bide So many stormes one while an enuious winde Losse of my dearest friend with griefe of minde By crosse in other friends with want and wâ— In their extremes And now hurld to and fro Betwixt my greatest enemies that is By Satan and those damned pow'rs of his No humane troups but such as
alwayes lurke Vnder the veyles of world and flesh to worke Mans finall ouerthrow VVeâ—t not for thee I had long since alas consumed bee To my first nothing or not halfe so well Been prison'd in the lawes of burning Hell Ne'r to come thence againe But it is thou That didst preserue me and this very now I should fall downe to that despairing Lake Didst thou not raise me vp and alwayes take Especiall care of me Then let it please Thy gracious eye of pity now to ease My gasping soule thinke on the case wherein It lyes thus bodyed as it were with sin Prest with the weight to Hell and cannot flye By reason of its leprous clog so hie As soules vnbodyed may to talke with thee In those pure places where the blessed bee In thine owne sweeter language where is heard Nought but the voyce of ioy but I am bâ—rd So low by sinne that from the dismall deepe Of these my griefes I am enforc'd to weepe This is my natiue language which I haue Within this soile of woe and loathsome caue Wheâ—in I liue and while this soule of mine Lyes pris'ner in this sad vnwholsome Clime Of corruptible flesh and haplesse I Goe soiourne on these vales of vanitie I cannot change my mourning tone vntill Thy mercies put a period to mine ill Come quickly then O Lord come and apply Thy sauing salues vnto my malady Come quickly lest my spirit faile and then I fall into the pit from whence agen Alas there 's no returne and who is it Shall tell thy prayses in th' infernall pit VVhere 's nothing else but horrors howles and cryes Teeths gnashing and the worme that neuer dyes But whither doe I roaue where am I led In passion thus to company the dead By these my fearefull doubtings Can it be That he who hath his sole depends on thee Should perish thus Oh no he builds too hie That builds on thee T is my infirmitie And more alas thou know'st I had not seene Those miserable deepes of griefe wherein I now lie plung'd had it not pleas'd thee wake My deadned sleepy soule and made it ake As now it doth And then how can it stand With iustice that thy pitying mercies hand Should giue a wound or make a soule to smart And then in cruelty againe depart Without applying any thing to ease The tortur'd patient of his new disease But there to leaue him sighing to the aire And bleed afresh with teares vnto despaire Oh no I know thy dealings are not such T is sweet to smart when mercy giues the touch This haue I prou'd already in extremes When outward passions or more inward threanes Did touch mee to the quick for neuer yet I swam in teares vnto thy Mercy-seat But I haue turned back so fully freight With inward solace stead of sorrowes plight That all my griefes were drowned quite and I Haue gladded thus to bee in misery If otherwise alas it then had bin Far better neuer to haue left my sin Or knowne my miseries if when I knew I so were left desparingly to rue This my vnhappy knowledge but from hence I learne to iudge of pleasure by the sense Of paine and so I better know to prize Thy greater mercies by my miseries As sickly patients by their greater griefes Do better learne to prize of their reliefes Or else if thou hadst heald mee presently And I ne'r felt the pangs of misery My soule was in perchance I would not stick To say thou heald'st mee ere that I was sick As thankelesse patients mostly say to these That heale their greatest griefes with greatest ease Thou therefore Lord whose Wisdome all-Diuine Hath order'd all things in so sweet a line Of neuer-iarring harmony that they At euery becke are ready to obey Thy high behests didst wisely preordaine That man should haue a feeling of the paine Himselfe was in by nature ere that hee Should haue that happinesse to come to thee For euer-healing Grace and reason good For if that man had neuer vnderstood That hee was sicke or if hee had not seene Those deepes of misery that hee was in As of himselfe how could hee humbly come With teares of penitence before thy Throne Of euerlasting Grace when senselesse he Ne'r knew so much that hee had need of thee But dreames that all is well with him and why Alas hee thinks there is no Deitie Besides himselfe And then how can hee see So much as a beholdingnesse to thee For any good Where 's true humilitie When Humanes thinke they haue abilitie Themselues to get a perfect happinesse As Heathens did And Papists do no lesse And lo how all was then o'rewhelm'd with night When thou awhile didst but conceale thy Light From Ethnick eyes Where was creation then Alas this was a Paradox to them Where t was imposible that ought could bee Made out of nought and worlds eternitie Which then was held could tell they did not know How e'r 't was possible that they should owe So much to thee that didst create them all To shew thy glory forth And Adams fall Was neuer heard of whence they could not see That wofull night that Hell of miserie Which they were in and so in humblenesse When they had seene the deeps of their distresse As earst Manasses get themselues to thee For mercy But behold this might not bee Thou didst derermine otherwise to show That Light to vs which they did neuer know To wit the wondrous things which thou hast done For vs to whom thou giuest grace to come To thee for grace Lord adde this one increase To these thy fauours that wee neuer cease To sing on earth the mirrors of thy praise Till Heau'ns at last eternalize our Layes And now since thou hast dain'd amongst the rest T'ensure mee thus of that great Interest I haue in thee my God and made mee see My many wants whereby I come to thee VVith thirsty soule as Dauids wearied heart Did to the water-brooks for lo my smart Enforces mee cry out to thee for ease In griefes extremitie and till it please Thy mercy send thy all Redeeming grace To free mee 〈◊〉 this sad-vnhappy case VVherein I aâ—â—nd take away from mee This heauy burden of my miserie The sin that presseth downe the loathsome weight That kills my soule that clouds mee from the light Of thy all-ioying eyes Alas I see There 's nothing here that 's able comfort mee My soule goes mourning all the day as one Impris'ned far from his desired home VVhere 's nought can truly comfort him till hee Hath won the Hauen where hee longs to bee Or rather as that needy Prodigall VVho when hee 'd had his will and lauisht all His portion quite away and pouerty Had pincht him so he was enforst to cry For helpe in his exteremes but there was none That once would giue attendance to his mone Of all his feigned friends although
that vntill a fitter time In my next booke from thence shee hies To speake of Humane miseries By Adams fall and how the times Are now corrupted ore with crimes At length shee falls with weeping eyes To treate of mine owne miseries VVhere shee declares how first I fell Away from God and lay in Hell As Prisoner fast till his free Grace Releasd mee from this wofull Case VVherein a large dispute as t were Twixt God and mee shee doth declare My penitence and how I lye As one that hath deseru'd to dye By lawes iust doom but yet depend On His sole Grace Thus doth shee end My former booke and lets me lye To waite for mercies sweet Reply I That had sate neere famous Isis shore The space of twice twelue moones and somewhat more And there had heard those Heauenly Muses sing That vse to solace by that sacred Spring At length I gan recall my selfe and thought What shall I stand and hearken still for nought Sure no I will be doing too altho It cost me deare enough much time and wo Come then VRANIA come thou sacred Mayd And Muse of Heau'n goe onwards in the ayd Of my great God whose sole commanding spright Shall alwayes guide thee in thy wayes aright Goe on I say in his sole strength and sing This dreary Canto to the weeping Spring A Song befitting well the time I meane The Story of that lamentable Scene Which earst my Sauiour acted here whilst He Was yet on earth Come then along with me And beare a part come quickly on I say For lo my passions will no longer stay No sooner can an earthen Caesar dye But Kingdomes flow in weeping Poesy Our dayes are nighted and the heau'ns o're-hung With sable clouds as with compassion wrung Of what we feele and seeming sad to rue Our great missehaps distils a weeping dew To beare vs company while all our eyes Make silent teares to blab our miseryes And this the cause we say of dreary night Our Sunne is set and we haue lost his Light Is 't so indeed And could that King of Kings That Humane-God of whom the Angel brings Such happy Tydings and the noblest Traines Of Heau'ns Musicians warbled out their Straines To solemnize his Birth which then began To preach Saluation to that Miser Man Could He I say be crucified and die Yet Man not melt into an Elegie Obdurate Clay so sweet a Sunne to see And not dissolue but still more hardned bee Ah cursed cruell Iewes where were yoâ— Scribes They could not write What blinded â—h your bribes As were your Watch-men Did you 〈◊〉 their eies For feare they should bewray your villanies By some sad Poem writ with sable Teares Vpon his death Which when the peoples eares Had heard and how you 'd shed his guiltlesse blood They needs would wish their heads a Water-flood To wash his wounds and to bewaile his losse Whom causelesse you thus tortur'd on the Crosse But Tyrants tell how could you gaze on Him With tearelesse eies who suff'red for your sin Had you a heart and could it choose but bleed Or were you men to act so vile a deed As murther Him whose very wounds did weepe To wash those sinnes that wounded you so deepe Or when you 'd don 't I wonder faithlesse Elues With Judas straight you had not hang'd your selues To see your Tragick Action or with speed If yet you liu'd bewail'd that horrid deed In lasting Teares of penitence and all Turne sudden Mourners to his Funerall But t was not so your infidelitie Was fore-decreed from all eternitie You did this not by chance but to fulfill The sacred Scriptures and resistlesse will Of Heau'ns great Lawgiuer who gaue you eies To see and weepe at others miseries But stubborne you peruerting all to ill Did what you could to crosse the Giuers will Blinded your selues and would not see the Light Till forst you were by vnexpected Night To see by opposites As those your kinne Who ryde in Poast the thorough faires of sinne With hood-winkt eyes and dreaming all is well Ne'r thinke on Heau'n vntill they feele a Hell But then too late alas the smarting Rod Doth make them learne a Heauen and a God! Such ill Disciples you whose faithlesse hate Did play so long the wanton till too late Sad Terror taught you Lectures Heau'ns and all Did seeme to checke you this Terrestriall Ball Did quake and tremble that it should sustaine Your selues the Off-spring of that cursed Cain The Temples veyle and very Rockes were rent As toucht with Passion seeming to lament Your deeds and wanting tongue and teares to plaine They brake their stonie hearts for griefe in twaine And glorious Titan Heau'ns all-seeing Eye The sad Spectator of this Tragedy Withdrew it selfe put on its sable weeds Wherewith it doth lament such dismall deeds And all the Creature clad in mourning blacke Did sadly seeme to mutter out it's lacke Meane while a secret terrour did inuade The hearts of all and an vnwonted shade O're-vaild the Earth on suddaine all was Night And reason good the Sunne that gaue you Light You banisht from your Eyes and would not see Though wrapt alas in rags of miserie Hee came to bee your obiect but in vaine Hee had but hate and labour for his paine Iust as his followers now that shew his Light They 're ouercome with hatred and Despight Thus did you entertaine Him with the crosse Whâ— harmelesse suff'red to redeeme your losse Anâ—â—lessed Sauiour thus with pitious Cry Hee seemd to call on his Diuinitie For aydance in that Agony wherein Hee now lay gasping burned with the sin Of mee and all the world vntill at length His God-head gaue Him all sufficient strength Whereby Hee ouercame which done Hee cry'd T is finisht gaue the ghost and thus Hee dy'd Here passionary Eye that dain'st to view My weeping Meeter writ with sable Dew Come beare mee company and let thine Eie Afford me Inke to write his Elegie Come weepe by Art make euery teare a verse The saddest now that euer hung on hearse And solitary Muses bring your Traines Of skilfull'st Mourners to intrust my braines With most Patheticke tenors that my pen May Eccho sorrow through the world agen And skilfull passions come assist mee now With sorrowes sad Materials shew me how To frame a sable Monument for Him Who payd his life a ransome for my Sin Come weeping Mourners Muses Passions all Come solemnize with mee his Funerall His funerall alas where am I led To seeke the liuing thus amongst the Dead What Maries passion hath possest my braine To hurry me thus vp and downe in vaine To seeke his graue I 'm quite out of the way I haue none Angell tells mee where he lay Or if I had what Marble Monument Can reach so high as bee his Continent Or were that Virgin sepulcher wherein His Virgin body lay so free from sin Before
Righteousnesse which thou Didst earst begin reueale to mee but now Hast clouded from mine eies againe Alas I am not steele nor is my flesh of brasse As earst I said that I should e'r endure Such heauie fearefull brunts as these for sure I feele with Hâ—man now Thy wrathfull hand Lies hard on mee and who is able stand Vnder its weight Againe t is of a truth Thy terrors haue I suffred from my youth Vp hitherto so grieuous that I lye Like him who is euen at the point to dye At euery minâ—â—es end or else to goe Beyond those bounds of Heman Sea of woe Behold I 'm dead already yet not dead As Heman seem'd almost who was but led With outward grieuances to plaine and cry As here hee did in his extremitie For want of friends or c'ause his enemies Were multiply'd and his aduersities Had ouer-whelm'd him quite yet none would heare Or pitty him so that he was as 't were A man forlorne euen brought vnto his graue For want of what indeed he ought to haue And sure these his extremes were wondrous great I must confesse whence hee might well intreat Thy aiding face for helpe and might complaine For want of it when all things else were vaine And either fled as friends or did conspire As foes to clog him still in sorrowes mire But these if this bee all are gentle flawes To my more inward stormes of soule because They only kill our bodies but these waues Hurry our soules to moâ—e vnhappy graues And sure 't were nought if I had all the griefes This world can load mee with yet no reliefes At all from it and were my friends most deare Farre distant from mee as they are not neere And were it that they all forsooke mee quite And euery one besides swolne vp with spight As cruell foes to vex mee still and I Were left implung'd in all the miserie That worldlings can inuent brought to my graue As Heman was Only let mee but haue The ioy of thy sweet countenance and then I will not once so much as grieue at them Let meee I say but haue my peace with thee And come what comes all shall bee well with mee For all the worst that they can doe is this To send my soule the sooner to her blisse But woe is mee these are but toies if waid With my great grieuances for lo thou 'st laid Me in the lowest pit a dismall place Of nought but darknesse where no glimpse of Grace Doth once so much as shine on mee whereby I might but taste some true felicity In these my griefes or else might cease to bee In miserie whiles I might speake to thee In praises not in plaints Alas I 'm dead Already as I said my soule 's o'respred With a benumming Lethargie of sin So that I 'm throughly dead but where Within My body liues alas but wo is mee My soule is dead and that for want of thee Which art alone her life this is my graue The deepe wherein I am that dismall Caue Whereto I 'm brought and who alas am I E'r to endure so great a misery As this to liue without a soule or bee Left to my selfe and quite depriu'd of thee Alas how oft shall I repeate how oft Shall I tell o're my griefes what is there nought That 's able comfort mee Hast thou forgot Thy mercies O my God or hast thou not One blessing left for mee shall it bee said That euer any sought to thee for aide And was deni'd Or can mans miserie Exceed the bounds of thy benignitie And mercie which is infinite Oh no I 'm quite amisse these can bee nothing so Thy mercies neuer were forgot nor thou Without a blessing for a sonne though now Thou seemest hard in granting me beside There 's none e'r sought thee that was yet deny'd Thy sauing Grace nor can mans miseries Exceed the bounds of thy benignities And mercies which are infinite for they Are onely finite but if so I pray Let me goe on with thee my God then why Dost thou so long proâ—ogue my miserie And dost not grant my suite for I haue cry'd To thee for mercy but am yet deny'd In my extremes Alas what wouldst thou haue How should I woo thee or how should I craue To win thy loue Thou know'st I am but man And wouldst thou haue me doe more than I can I may not force thee whe'r thou wilt or no To loue and pitie me for were it so I needed not intreate so much but I Am thine O Lord my poore humanitie Is subiect to thy becke and let it bee My glorie still still to be so to thee But then what shall I doe Where shall I goe To ease me of this heauie griefe for lo I 'ue gone about as man and done my best To weare it out but yet I cannot rest One while I thinke to driue away the paine By drowzying out my time but this is vaine When I awake it comes afresh but then To trie the common helpes of godlesse men Which mostly now they vse to driue away Some melancholy dump or drowzie day I card it out awhile but for the Die Indeed I hate ' cause 〈◊〉 vanitie That hangs so much on chance and has â—o wit And fiue to one ' gainst him that laies on it And then perchance as when some three or foure Of honest Lads are met to lose an houre Or two in sober merriment we haue A Bowle or twaine of Beere but hee 's a knaue They say that drinkes not whole ones off but I Haue alwaies hated too this vanitie ' Cause 't has no shew of pleasure in 't vnlesse It be to drowne ones braines in sottishnesse And ' reaue him both at once of sense and wit Which if it please let men delight in it For me I like it not But here againe As earst I said this helpe is also vaine Alas it giues me no content for when I 'ue spent away my time with other men In these or such like fooleries as these And dreame all 's well because I seeme to please My outward fence alas euen then I finde So often secret pangs within my minde Which come as dolefull warning-bells to toule Such fearefull peales to my dead-sleepie soule That I can neuer rest in peace vntill I 'ue quite throwne off this Viper of mine ill The sinne that hangeth on so fast for this It is alone that interrupts my blisse The cursed cloud that hath almost vndone My wofull soule by keeping off the Sunne Of Grace so long from it And here alas I alwaies feele how e'r it comes to passe Such inward warres that there 's no peace with me Nor will before I haue my peace with thee Others perchance may feele a seeming â—ase When they resort to such vaine helpes as these In their extremes Indeed I cannot tell What others fâ—â—le but that it
of this horrid deed Wherefore I now returne againe and come Vnto my Sauiours latest part the Summe And woe of all the rest that dreary seene Which now hee was to vndergoe I meane On this sad Scaffold of his latest crosse The first was paine of sense but this of 〈◊〉 That was his bodies paine but here againe His paine of soule which is the soule oâ— paâ—â—e For now behold not to enlarge my verse With each sad circumstance I here rehearse Only that one expreslesse plunge of all The great'st that euer was when hee did call At his extremest gaspe My God my God Why hast thou now forsaken mee What rod Was it that strook this wondrous blow Aye mee My blessed Christ what God forsaken Thee Thy selfe forsake thy selfe O thou my life How could this bâ—e Ne'r was there fatall knife Could cut this threed no Thus it came to passe Thy Sprite of loue hath told mee how it was Now was that wofull time at hand wherein Th'intolerable weight and curse of sin Which I and all the world had done were cast Vpon thy backe at once Now was that last And very vtmost deepe which thou while-ere Didst seeme in thy humanity to feare Now didst thou drinke of that accursed cup Which earst thou didst intreat thou mightst not sup Vnlesse it were thy Fathers will and here Behold it was his will and thou didst beare Those heauie brunts alone for vs from whence It was indeed thou hadst such feeling sense Of these thy miseries in vs that wee Might thereby feele our happinesse in thee Nay more thou now of wondrous loue hadst tooke Our sinnes on thee whence 't was thy God forsooke Or seem'd at least forsake thee thus and why 'T is sin indeed vndoes that happy tie Betwixt humanity and God for this Is that whiâ—h sep'rates vs from all our blisse I meane from God and this is it which made Him thus withdraw himselfe from thee or shade As 't were his present â—â—dance from thy sight And leaue thee to thy selfe prest with the weight Of sin and hell and of thy Fathers rage ' Gainst these our siâ—â—es since thou would'st so engage Thy selfe for vs and here thy soule was brought Downe to the lowâ—st plunge of woe where nought VVas left to comfort thee but thou meane while Being made as ' tweâ—e a desolate exâ—le From all true happinesse didst vndergo Such sad expreslesse pangs that none can know Their depth but thou that suffer'dst them nay sure That only paine of losse thou didst endure VVas more by farre in reference to thee Then hells most cruell torturings can bee In reference to vs. VVhat shall I say This was indeed a lamentable day For thy pure eies to see ne'r was there griefe Like vnto this of thine where all reliefe VVas held so long from thee and here indeed I found that true which I ere-while did reade Foretold of thee thy comlynesse was gone And forme or beauty there alas was none To make thee now desir'd Thou wast a man Of sorrow friend of griefe whence wee began To hide our faces ' way from thee or thou Didst hide as 't were from vs Thus didst thou bow Thy righteous back to heare our griefes while wee Like cruell Iewes went on in tort'ring thee By adding sin to sin Thus didst thou cry Aloud for vs and thus for vs didst die Didst die yea more didst rise againe that wee Might rise againe from sin and bee made free From all the pow'râ— of death and hell and then Being thus reuiu'd by thee to liue agen The happy life of Grace till thou shalt please To call vs gently hence and sweetly seize Vpon our soules to carrie vs vp on high To liue with thee through all eternitie The endlesse life of Glorie there where wee Shall sing of nothing else but praise to thee But O my God thou thou that hast been pleasd To ayde mee hitherto thou that hast easd My wearied soule at length in this sweet Ford The sacred Spring of thy all-sauing VVord Come here againe and as it pleas'd thee show Those mirrours of thy loue to mâ—e euen so Enable mee as thou hast said that I May sing thy mercies to posterity In a ne'r-dying verse whereof each word May speake my thankfulnesse and each afford Eternall matter of thy praise Nay more May here bee found a salue for euery sore To each good soule that euer felt the smart And terrors of a truly contrite heart Come then my sweet Vrania come againe And raise thy selfe here change thy dolefull straine Into some happier notes of ioy and here Come come my sprites I charge you all appeare In ioyous readinesse yea soule and all Giue your attendance to my instant call For now behold I speake Come come away To celebrate this high-made Holy-day Of reconcilement with my God First then O thou sole Guider of my tongue and pen And all my thoughts and all my Acts whiles they Are good Lo here I humbly come to pay My tributarie thanks that thou hast brought Me hitherto the place which earst I sought And here hast rais'd my soule againe to see Those wondrous things which thou hast done for me When I was past recouerie if thou Hadst not been timely mercifull and now Redeem'd me by thy loue as thou hast done Though by the death of 〈◊〉 owne onely Sonne Thine owne beloued Sonne but O my life Life of my soule I say whence is the strife I feele in me if this be so that I Am subiect yet to Satans tyrannie And cannot praise thee as I would for lo My sinnes step still betweene and 〈◊〉 so I cannot raise my drowâ—ie eies to see As here I ought thy wondrous 〈◊〉 to mee But O my God! here is the reason sure Of this my miserie thine eies so pure Will not vouchsafe to loo◠〈◊〉 I meane In smiling sort because I am not 〈◊〉 But thou conceal'st thy coâ—nce ' cause I Haue broke indeed thy Lawes most â—ankelesly Both in my thoughts and 〈◊〉 and yet alas I am not truly penitent but pâ—sse My time in senslesnesse as 't were and 〈◊〉 Burst forth in teares to wash away the blot Of this my great ingratitude aye mee All this is true my God for thou dost see My secret paths and yet behold thine eyes Do also see my griping miseries How oft indeed I grieue and sigh and groane Because I am become so dead a stone And cannot weep as faine I would but here O thou my Lord why should I further feare At these mine owne deficiencies behold My Sauiour burnd in loue though I am cold His wounds did weepe to wash away my sin Though I am dull O cast thine eyes on him Or looke on mee but as in Him that when Thou seest me thou mayst finde mee clear'd and then Thou canst not bee displeas'd with mee for hee Hath made a full supply of all