here Be thou my Pilot safely loofe and steere Conduct me straight to thy Coelestiall Port That in the Sabboth of eternall rest My soule may reigne And with the Angels court Thy face with joyes that cannot be exprest Where all content in fulnesse of rich pleasures Shall them attend in overjoying measures Who here within this Domicile of dust And boggy baggage of a stinking lump Would stay to eat the excrements of lust And feed on filthinesse that rotten stump Nay none but Abjects holy Ones rejoyce To be dissolvd make happynesse their choice But some heart-sunke in worldly greed and cares Would build their Paradise in this base life And by extreames involve them selves in snares Hating the truth in falshood spend their strife And what envy can not accomplish they Will make extortion all their hatred swey Can thou forgivenesse crave for thy misdeeds And will not first forgive anothers wrongs How can thou pray or thinke thy prayer speeds When in thy heart thou malice keeps and long To be revengde This is no Christian life To pray and praise when sunke in spite and strife Away with envy malice pride and hate Let not the Sunne go downe upon thy wrath Live to the Lord and live in holy state Love one another there 's the marke of faith Live and live holy whom thou serves regard He 'le come and come in haste with thy reward Then be not Spider-like that doth exhaust It selfe in workes of little use and time Nor like the Indians rude absurd devast That will give gold for glasse rich gemmes for slime And precious stones for toyes and trifling things Which strangers bring knives whistles beeds brasse rings All smell of greed though not of perfect wit Then hang not downe thy head for lack of trash Let Craesus be thy Lydian Mappe he 'le fit Thy greedy humours with a falling dash All which are shades of floating vanities Mans onely constant in unconstancies Shall rich Saturnia with her cramming gold Deceive my heart and move my minde to swell Or with false lookes vaine hopes to me unfold To snare my thoughts which vertue may expell A figge for worldly baits a tush for greed For being poore I me rich in having need And why 'cause povertie that is so light As being weigh'd in ballance with the winde Doth hang aloft Then can not seeme no weight Nor dare to sit as sad on my free minde Say if it should it were some fainting thought Would me deject for povertie is nought Then all my riches is content I see A stock more sure than Wealth can Worldlings lend Poore was I borne and as poore must I die Unlesse good luck a chest to death extend Get I a sheet to wrappe up my dead bones I 'me richer far than gold or precious stones Seven foot of ground and three foot deep I crave The passing bell to sound mine obsequie Gold lands and rents the living world I leave Else if I smart by streames by flouds or sea Then shall some fishes belly be my grave No winding sheet my Corps shall need to have But stay what passion thus diverts my minde Dust shall to dust and earth to earth returne If I can here true peace of conscience finde What losse what trash what crosse can make me mourne For when laid low and having lost this frame My soule shall mount to Heaven from whence it came The soule it is of heavenly substance fram'd Breathd in at mans nostrils by his Maker A sprit invisible Gods image nam'd With whom of Essence infinite partaker Will mem'rie knowledge faculties divine Are my soules socialls reasondo confyne Will is to rule and knowledge to conceave And memorie a locall power assumes Knowledge as chief makes understanding crave A league with love whose worke true blesse resumes Lo there 's the fruit of this coelestiall mould Which never here shall rot nor hence grow old Then teach me Lord to count my slyding dayes That I to wisedome may my heart apply So shall thy statutes guyde my slipprie wayes And circumspection all my actions try Who knew his date of life and might attaine it Would learne to live well else he would disdaine it We 're apt to note the lives of other men But not our owne selfe-love our sense divides Like two ships under saile and one course ken Both sailers think each other swifter glides Than their owne ship So we can check and show The lives of others and our owne misknow Our haires growne gray our desires then grow greene And after earthly things we hunt amaine We love this world so well as oft it s seene That we are dead with grief ere death hath slaine Us with destruction Age would faine be young To nurse the serpent that his soule hath stung Man lives like him who fell into a pit Yet caught a grippe by a branch'd tree and hung Above his head a hony Combe did sit Whence his deep appetite delight had wrung Below two gnawing wormes razing its roote The treefals downe and greed devourd the fruit The pit our grave the Tree this mortall life This hony combe vaine pleasures of the world Two gnawing wormes the speedy thiftu'ous strife Of night and day wherein our dayes are hurld Timeclouds our light the glasse is runne we fall Downe to the dust where death triumphs o're all Then darknesse covers Man he mouldring rots Earth gluts him in her wombe away he goes His better part resumes one of two lots No shade nor sepulchre can it enclose It either mounts above or falls beneath There is no midst can stop or stay its path Each course is violent faith conquers Heaven By force and wrestling in the way of light VVhich strait is and few enter Most are driven Downe to the gulfe of ever-sorrowing night That way is broad where numbers numberlesse Fall in earths Cell plungd in cursd wofullnesse Such as the life's so frequently the death The Divels deceit prolongs us in delay Then wouldst thou flee that pestilence set faith Against temptation Runne the happy way That leads to life Make thy confession cleare And beg for peace then mercy will draw neare Yet ah how fraile am I how weak how wretchd That even my conscience trembles at my cace Alas poore sleeping soule how art thou stretchd In drousie dulnesse void of good and grace Pluck up thy selfe condole confesse convert And strive to stand although thy steps divert The Compasse stands not solide to the Pole Though with the Loadstone any point is touchd But hath some variation we controle To the East or West as hourely is avouchd So none of our best deeds though touchd with grace Points God amaine deflection marres our pace Which made Saint Paul ingenuously confesse That by himselfe he nothing knew nor could Be thereby justify'd 'cause his digresse Was judg'd by God the Loadstone true that would Point forth each point and yet forget forgive The least the maine the guilt for
the crummes of lust he gathers But would he muse on long eternitie He would forsake himself and learne to die To learne to die that he may learne to live For in this course his happinesse consists Die to himself that grace may vice survive In mortifying sinne his blesse subsists Come life come death thus dying so he 's blest And doubtlesse shall in peace of conscience rest O Jesu who redeemd us being dead Whence could thy love so farre to us extend We had no merit thou of us no need And yet thy grace our weaknesse doth defend For as Man first to be like God condemn'd us So God turnd man that God should not contemne us Farre better is a life unfortunate In end with honour that yeelds up the breath Than honourable life and wealthy state With shame to perish and untimely death I rather wish to be a sheepherd borne Then live a Prince and at my death forlorne Come answer me who would be undertaker Whether its best to be a man or beast The beast dissolves and not offends his Maker Nor makes no count save to some carnall feast But godlesse Man in grieving God is worse Throwne downe to Hell and with that fall his curse Who rightly weighs the variable kindes Of Mortals all in either death or life Shall see their bubling breath tost with sharpe windes Of stagring doubts ingorgd with timerous strife Their conscience and their living disagreeing In will or worke most vanquish'd are in dying Nay soule and body at that dreadfull day Shall be conjoynd and hurld downe to hell This wretch thus damn'd in tortring flames shall stay Chaind in that howling Radamanthan Cell The beast he fals and turnes to nought we see But Man adjudgd his worme shall never die As for the vertuous Saint his happinesse Begins at death which end all worldly noyes He swarmes in pleasures rich in blessednesse Death makes the passage to his heavenly joyes He feares no stop nor stay his faith instructs him The way though strait his good Angel conducts him And wouldst thou learne whilst here t' attaine that way Be humble first and then religious set Place Heaven before Thee make faith thereon to stay And then let zeale and love fast setling get To grip Christs wounds then feare then praise then pray Let earnest prayers thy best devotion swey For prayer is the souls great sacrifice Which speaks to God and meditation Is Gods speech to the soule an exercise Conjoynd together two revolv'd in one The one invelopes the other and speaks Reciprocall Both our salvation seeks Which two like Hypocrates twinnes are bred Who liv'd fed slept joyd wept and dyed together So can they not be separate indeed Though fasting doe prepare their journey hither This outward action like t'a potion scoures The other sprituall are divinely ours Like to a paire of Turtles truely set Whereof the one by death been slaughter'd gone The other mournes for loosing of her Mate And languishing doth die No life alone So meditation gives matter to the minde And without prayer nothing shall we finde For both bring reconcilement and acceptance And makes thee to thy father a loving sonne So by his Sonne a brother of acquaintance And by the Sprite a Temple squard and done Last in the court of Heaven thou art made free A fellow with th' Angelick hierarchie O joy of joyes O happy endlesse blesse Who can expresse that glory there reveal'd The eye the minde nor tongue can dascon this Since ravish'd Paul amaz'd hath it conceal'd Then labour silly soule this marke to aime Which seen and got how great is thy good name But ah I stagger in the myres of sin And daily sinks in pudles of defects The more I flee the more I swallow in The stinking marish of absurd effects The very boggy quagmyres of vice I plunge them all unvaluing weight or price The price alas is great and I must pay it Unlesse Christs wounds break open plead for pitie O pledge divine thy merits will defray it Thou art my surety O prevent my dittie Evert the sentence least I lye in Jayle Stand to thy mercy Lord be thou my bayle To square the lives of godly men with mine How farre my selfe fled from my self I finde Thrice wretchd am I to thinke me one of thine In whom corruption rules the inward minde It 's more then strange I should expect for good Whilst still I trample on my Saviours blood There is no sense in this that I should slay My silly soule to crosse my crost desire Can head-strong passions mine accounts defray When my just Judge my reckning shall require Nay spare thy spurres poore wretch and call to minde A self-soule Murdrer can no mercy finde That sinne which I hate worst I follow most Yet faine would sift the evil of deceit Loe with repugnants how my breast is tost Here lyes my safety there the snaring bait Sinne like a Fowler with a whistle takes me And that good which I would it then forsakes me O! love and love it self Father of love And God of mercy mercy is thy Name O King of pitie all my faults remove Farre from before Thee coverthou my shame That here me to accuse they never come Nor hence to damne me at the day of doome Ah! wicked men they triumph in excesse To tempt thy patience O long suffring God! They glory to cast downe the fatherlesse And on the Widows back they lay their rod They lose themselves and so would lose their brother With them thy honour in their pride to smother Unwise is he and thrice unhappy too Who ill commits that good thereon may follow He 's like the Crocodile that loves to wooe The gray Nyle Rat and eftsoone doth it swallow Which when enclos'd it cuts his wombe seeks breath And with its freedome workes the others death So haplesse man in hurtfull wayes of sinne His hopelesse heart he suffocats with lust Till custome bring sterne obduration in And then he turnes a Reprobate injust The doore of grace is shut his soule wants faith Then sinne leaves him squard for eternall death They gallop on in dark-drawne pathes of Hell The glen is hollow but the way is broad In two extreames the least they quite repell To shunne a fardell they receive a load The yoake of Christ is light but ah they swallow The weight of sinne which all their labours follow I crosse my crossing armes on my crost breast And musing lurks to looke on humane state How wretch'd it is how carelesse how deprest To ev'ry snare makes man unfortunate That haplesse he for one small moments pleasure Dare hazard ah his souls eternall treasure The will 'twixt reason and sensualtie plac'd Is apt to be apply'd to either side But first and firmest Will by sense is trac'd Which is of youth and childish age the guide For seldome reason can once conquer will Cause sense presents for good a
stings I le lay about the Ruther of my minde To keep a safer loofe and thirle the winde What rapt coelestiall forceth my desire To be dissolv'd my soule may mount aboue To see these joyes that blesse that glorious hyre Which Saints enjoy lifes ever-springing love My hope resumes I might as happy rest In pleasures there as they are happy blest Now I returne good God turne thou to me As Travellers who have been long abroad Are forc'd by love their soile and friends to see No rest till then their hearts the way have trode So I 'me estrangd my Countrie is above Heaven is the place thou Lord my light my love Great is the glory of thy glorious face Enstall'd with Angels Saints and Martyres gone Set fore the Throne with legions of each race Singing applauses to that blessed One The Lambe of Love our Advocate thy Sonne Who by his death wrought our Salvation Fixe fast my thoughts to the tree of thy crosse Draw all the forces of my soule to Thee Lift up my heart let me renounce the drosse And dregs of ill let me aspire on hie And walke 'twixt feare and love in all my deeds As thou 'twixt justice and mercy proceeds Thy vertues are for us sufficient great Like as the Sunne it shines the World all where Yet ev'ry man enjoyeth so much heat As if it shinde to him in proper share So are thy graces infinite and we Enjoy the fruits of their felicitie But what our lives are short so are our dayes Except in troubles miseries alace Our continuance certaine in uncertaine wayes No time of death is knowne to us nor place Gods will is so to have us still prepard And set on watch lest that our steps be snard Each minutes life steps forward to sterne death And ev'ry act robs some part of our life Like him who sailes in ships and action hath In toylesome paines yet forward flees his strife We can not twice returne in Natures state 'Cause time runs post and can make no retreat My Sunne of life hath his Meridian past And plungd I am in th' after-noone of age The night of Nature fastens on me fast And death waits closse to pull me from this stage But Lord thou wilt not leave my soule in grave Let ly the Corps they 'le once conjunction have Now having sung of deep remorse and teares Lord save me from these weeping teares of Hell Which grief declares and ever-gnashing feares For losse of joy and sense of horrours fell Who would not here a few spent teares disclose Shall there be waile in floods of bitter woes As sea-bred fishes never saltnesse wed But still their bodies stay both sweet and fresh So grant my soule that 's with corruption cled May live as pure not medling with the flesh But sinne begins first in the sillie soule And ends into the body base and soule What shall I say when mans rot in disease And ulserd sore the Phisitian draws neare To give him pills and potions worke his ease And lets him blood he may his health endure Much more Christs bloud can purge and cleanse the soule Of all uncleannesse pardon what is foule Then to great Jove the mighty King of kings I le prostrate fall on my low bended knees To beg for mercy mercy comfort brings And joy of sprit works peace from gushing eyes So Lord of Lords sweet Christ what I would have Is knowne and showne I call I cry I crave Now by these words whom seek you and confession By thy breath made the Sergeants backward fall By that care rouzd thine slumbring in digression By thy pangs in Gethsemane one and all By that power and patience fore Anne exprest By that prophecie of Cajaphas the Priest By that deep agony of bloud and sweat By these sore scourgings spittings on thy face By these rough nailes piercd thy hands and feet By all these mockings done thee for disgrace By that sharpe speare which smote thy tender heart By that Viniger thou drunk and gall of smart By that crowne of thornes thrust on thy bare head By these blood sprinklings downe thy face that fell By that heavy Crosse on thy shoulders spread By thy descending downe in earths dark Cell By that great power of thy great resurrection By thine ascension O profound election By thy five bleeding wounds I thee implore And by the vertue of thy death and passion By that purple Roabe forc'd in scorne thou wore By all these taunts these Ruffians spent for fashion Nay by that superscription wrote for news Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews By thy nativitie and incarnation Yea by these words Mother behold thy Sonne And Sonne Behold there thy consolation Go live and live in peace live both as one Nay by this moode for heavie was thy load Why thus forsakst thou me my God my God By thy baptisme fasting humiliation By all thy miracles and wonders done By these teares thou shed and transfiguration On Tabor seene As thou art Christ Gods sonne Save shield and shelter my designes my wayes For my souls health and thine eternall praise Nay by and for and from thy selfe I beg For pittie grace and pardon free remission Of all my sinnes O cleanse me the least dreg That lurkes within my Temple thy possession Let all be cleane Lo there 's the totall summe My soule implores come now Lord Jesus come Great King of ages Monarch of all times Thou first and last is was and ever blest Redeemer unredeemd Purger of crymes Thou Light of lights thou Mans sole-soveraigne rest Encrease in me thy Sprit infuse thy grace Confirme my heart show forth thy loving face Sweeter than hony or the hony Combe Life light and love all goodnesse peace and grace Sonne of Mercy that in blest Maries wombe Incarnate was left Heaven thy Mansion place Where now thou art and art all where Come see My heart my help my health depend on Thee In Thee I rest Lord sanctifie my hope In Thee I trust Lord fortifie my faith In Thee I grow Lord fructifie my scope In Thee I walk Lord rectifie my path In Thee I stay in Thee I live and die In Thee I move in Thee above I flie Lord grant thy grace may make these TEARES so blest And blesse them all shall them peruse for blis That godly griefe may in their blessings rest Remorsefull soules whose teares implore for this LORD pittie me LORD pardon my TRANSGRESSION Lord cleanse my HEART Lord blesse thou this CONFESSION FINIS Applicâ— on anâ— vocatiâ— â—mble 〈◊〉 The Creators greâ— love towards 〈◊〉 his creatures â—rists 〈◊〉 love Love co quers hâ— ven 〈◊〉 conâ—ions distinâ—ion twixt â—orldly â—d godly â—ares The repugnancâ— of ill and good â—ntrary 〈◊〉 Thewo is a map of evils â—hrists â—res over â—rusalem We shâ— not desâ— but hoâ— for meâ— Impeneâ— trable counsel the â—orks of â—ation 〈◊〉 of manâ— â—ds â—orks â—evv his â—odhead â—ns inâ—mities Mans beauty summers blossome â—elf-love â—ules the â—orld Sinne and the causes of sin Mans life awarfare Deceitful greed Jonah disâ—ered â—ul conâ—ed Gods omnipotency Repugnant comparisons The â—eaknesse â—nd â—hanges of â—ur nature An objection between man and beast The pang of Hell Prayer and meditation two heavenly exercises The effects of prayer Christs wounds our healtâ— The instabilitie 〈◊〉 man Wicked men delite to make the simple sinne Moments pleasures eternall paine Will overcomes reason Sighes anâ— teares are holy sacri fiâ—es The godly â—ometime all and â—e recalld Joshua's gratefulnâ— to Rachaâ— Jesus at Jericho saved Zacheus â—acelesse â—quence â—rd obduâ—nce Worldly wisedome â—nd pride 〈◊〉 Saikles erâ—vie retorâ— reply Wormes are sepulchrall mates Man headlong falls The lake Maronaâ— fathers Jordan Godly teares saving grace â—obs patiâ—ce and â—nstancy Love the Lord for his loves sake Gods loâ— our life The breâ—itie of life Corruption corrupteth all things The povver anâ— varieties 〈◊〉 corruptioâ— The vicissitude of fortune Noah first set vines and first was drunk with it Lots drunkennesse begot incest The shame full effects of drunkennesse Beasts and Philosophers condemne excesse No perfection in humane knowledge Great defects in greatest Saints Daniels dainties poore mens plenâ—es â—ges â—e better â—en bad â—ristians In prayer use few words and many teaâ— Christs silence and patience Davids teares wet his couch God accepts the will for the deed Christ is our Physician The insolencie of youth Delay in repentance is dangerous Youth and age are disagreeing Continencie by Pagans commended A brief tract of bitter repentance Peters confession Peter reprehending himself Peters tears consummated in peace The blessed fruits of godly tears Mortalitie is miserable Mans a pilgrime here Our heavenly Jerusalem Sions tears Sions beauty Sions crosses Sinfull â—ust suddain darknesse Plenty of mercy â—hrists â—ssion â—r salvaâ—on Magdalenâ— teares Christ reveals himself to Mary Magdalen Fire hath two properties Ther'si no flying from Gods presence God â—aves the heart Greed breeds enâ— A contempt of riches The immortall substance of the soul The misery and shortnesse of life Frailtie and falling follow man The varieties of vanitie â—gratefull â—ildren to â—ed paâ—ts Elemental changes The present miseries of Christendome The craftinesse aâ— cruelty of Rome Compariâ—ons of â—reedome â—om sin The Jewish tears on Babilons banks Correction begets awe Short and evil are our dayes Athens made the mother and miâ—our of miseries The inconstancie of worldly pride Ambitious Xerxes bewailing the brevitie of life This lifâ— is loaden with croâ—ses the flatâ—ry of â—ourts Sions prosperities prayed fâ— The Sun â—ines on â—e good â—d bad Our day nor time can never returne â—rist is â—r Phyâ—ian The sufferings and passion of Christ
againe the Lord of life As irne in fire cast takes fires nature And yet remaineth irne though fram'd what than So he who in Gods love doth burne that creature Partakes his holynesse abiding man For love seals up Gods counsels ends the law From which we sinners cords of mercy draw Love is the roote of vertue and the childe Of grace Truths mistresse and religions glasse The soule of goodnesse in perfection milde The crowne of Saints that conquer Paradise The joy of Angels O! what springs of love Flow from the Lamb for us and our behove Ingratefull Man contemner of thy good Can thou not back-bestow thy debt-bund love To him for thee did shed his precious blood And though rebuk'd yet would he not reprove Why did he fast weep watch and labour take In basenesse and contempt but for thy sake Then be not like that plant Ephemeron Which springs and growes and fades all in one day But plead remorse beg for contrition Mourne for thy sinnes make haste prevent delay In this my self shall to my self returne He best can weep that knowes the way to mourne I rather seem'd than been religious set Having Jacobs voice and Esau's rough hands I make profession practise I forget My better zeale hypocrisie commands I Serpent like do change my skinne but not Disgorge the poison lurkes within the throate Vice I have us'd under a vertuous seeming And like the sea though rivers in it fall Yet not the sweeter or like Pharaohs dreaming The leane kine yet were leane when eaten all Stay then dry soule where are thy Teares what springs Should thy pale eyne cast out when sorrow sings I meane not childrens teares when whipt for aw Nor mundane teares for losse of trash or geare Nor spightfull teares which would revenge downe draw Nor teares of grief for them concerne us neare Nor teares for death nor teares for what disasters Nor teares for friends nor wives teares for men wasters Nor drunken teares spent after sugred wine Which women waste to colour imperfection Nor Dalilahs fained teares to undermine The strong mans strength by way of fals detection Nor Sinons teares the Trojane state betrayde With the wooden horse Ulysses wit bewrayde Nor faigned teares the Crocodilean sexe Do spend I meane their husbands to deceave Nor these Courtegian teares that love to vexe Their sottish Palliards and their meanes bereave Nor teares of pitty mercy beg from men That 's not the drift of my obsequious pen Looke to thy lapses and quotidian falling Then try thy conscience if remorse creeps in Which if it doe thou art brought to this calling Of godly weeping for the guilt of sinne These tears are blest and such mine eyes would borrow But not these tears which melt for worldly sorrow Lord strengthen me with knowledge of thy word Square thou my judgement I may walk upright An intellective Heart my soule aford Endue my sprite with supernatrall light Faine would I slaughter sinne that would me slay And learne thy truth Lord teach me thy right way Confound in me this all-predominant sinne Which overrules my reason sense and will One head-strong vice that lurkes and lyth within The inmost center of mine utmost ill Lord curbe its force and purifie my soule From such uncleannesse for its wondrous foule Grant grant remorse let godly sorrow show My full-swolne sight my brinish tears my sadnesse Come sowre repentance let sweet contrition know The mourning woes of my rejoycing gladnesse What though that grief at morne worke me annoy Yet long ere night thou'le turne my grief in joy The best man lives hath one predominant ill Oppos'd to the best good he can effect The worst man breaths though curs'd pervers'd of will Hath some predominant good he doth affect Even either answering contrare to their kinde Seeme to resemble what they never finde Lord what am I whose best is even accurst Who with thy Convert is of sinners chief A sharde unsav'rie of thy works the worst Unlesse thy grace renew me with reliefe Lord will my well prepare my heart give eare If faith can call O! thou canst quickly heare The poore which almes seeks he gets not aide For any need the giver hath of him But even because he hath of us great need So we by faith on Christian steps must clim For God of his great love he freely gives us And without need of man he still relieves us A Cynick came and ask'd the Syrian king Antigonus a dram of silver coyne But he reply'd it was too base a thing For kings to give or lend so small aloane Said Cynick then I would a talent crave But that 's too much for thee said he to have Thus two extreams were both extreamly met But it s not so with God and sinfull men The more we seeke the more we 're sure to get God of his bounty is so good that when We mercy crave he grants it gives us grace Our wills and wayes may in his precepts trace Lift up my falling minde Lord knit my heart With cords of love and chaines of grace to thee As Jonathans three arrows did impart To Davids woes true signes of amitie So rouze my sprite let grace and goodnesse spell Mine Annagram I LOVE ALMIGHTY WEL O! if I could byte off the head of sinne As the shee Viper doth the male confound But not like her whose brood conceiv'd within Cut forth her wombe leave her dead on the ground Lord grant I sinne may slay ere sinne slay me The wounds are deep my health consists in Thee Lord when I ponder on this worldly pride Vaine glory riches honour noble birth Great lands and rents faire palaces beside Pastimes and pleasures fit-thought things on earth Without thy love and in regard of thee They 're nought but shaddows of meere vanitie All under sunne are Emblems of deceit Link'd snares to trap blind man in ev'ry vice They 're feather'd baits prest grines that lye in wait To catch the buyer unvaluing their pryce Then carelesse soule take heed prevent this danger Lay hold on Christ and be no more a stranger Gods will allots that my past curious sights In painfull prime all where the world abroad Should be repaid with as darke cloudie nights Of sorrows sad for now I finde the rod Sicknesse and crosses compasse me about Whence none but Christ can help or rid me out Listen to me as to thy Lazar poore That 's overstamp'd with seals of scabs and sores Both vile and wretch'd lyth at thy mercies doore Begging for crummes of pitie and implores That thou wouldst open with Lydia my heart And make me Sauls dear second thy Convert Thy lengthning hand is now no more cut short Than in old times of wonder-working dayes But thou canst turne and safely bring to Port The wilsome Wandrer from his sinfull wayes O then great Sheepherd pitie a lost sheep And bring me home safe in thy fold me keep Thou art the vine I am the
to their devouring plenties My bones shall rot then turne in mouldring dust This is the way of flesh both bad and just And yet vaine Man he little thinks or dreames Once of his death nor what his end may be His sense deludes him and the world it seemes A glasse to looke on for his sensuall eye He neither mournes for sinne nor sinne forsakes But from one ill another worser takes What surging follies overcloud my minde With vain-wing'd fancies and surmysing flashes Such fleering thoughts more lighter than the winde Breed nought but foolerie which opinion dashes My wish'd for wishes straight conceiv'd and done The care of carelesse dreams I scarce can shunne I posting runne in wayes of naughty ends Lord crook and stop my course with streames of grace Which flood can carry none that ill pretends Like Jordan that receives no barbarous face Unlesse they swim So sans remorse they 'le drowne Who hazard here quick sandie sins pull downe This saving grace the soule guards with strong hand And if it slip it can not fully fall It s like Maronahs full disgorging strand Hembes in Canaan from barbarian thrall Like keeps the Lord his owne and guards their wayes They perish not though chargd with fraile delayes As Jordan circuits the holy land Twixt Liban and that south-lake smoaking show From the Petreian soyle joynd with a strand Which tribute payes 'gainst Jericho I know To famous Jore One parts the Midian soyle The other sackt Samarias confynes coyle This is the march girds Canaans south-east side But more the Lord preserves and guards his owne From ghostly ill and from aetheriall pride From terrene sprites from Hell and what is knowne To plague the soule he is a bulwark strong Fens'd with good Angels free all his from wrong Then happy they can creep within this Tent And sheltrage seek under his mercies wings Sigh for thy sinnes O! let thy soule repent Thy misdemeanour to the King of kings First grieve then weep last seeke thy Saviours face Let teares implore for teares can plead for grace Kinde were these teares which Josephs love had spent When with his brethren he his brother saw His heart surchargd with joy it shrunke as shent To plunge that deep which Benjamin did draw But loe moe teares were shed one with another When Joseph said Behold I am your brother Feare not said he the strict Aegyptian law Though to the Ismaelites my life you sold For what was done was done by God I knaw No spight of yours his providence behold Foresaw your need and brought me here to be A father to my Fathers miserie There five yeares famine yet shall worke your woe Wherein ag'd Jacob and his race may starve Unlesse he flit then get you up and go To fetch him downe faile not in this nor swerve They went he came all met in melting joyes For passions have extreames as bairnes have toyes Since Nature then in floods of teares can melt For joy of sight to overjoy their love Much more our teares when we remorse have felt For sinne shall glade the powers in Heaven above These tears are blest and make us blest for ever For godly grief from grace no crosse can sever Let patient Job be paterne in like case Whose losse was such as never yet was none Yet shrunk he not sound stedfast love took place Faith forc'd his hope and both proclaim'd in one Sure my Redeemer lives and he is just Though he should kill me yet in him I 'le trust Mine eyes shall see him and he will me save As I am confident he will not faile Sterne rough calamitie would me deceave But that 's a shade my purpose must prevaile In God my soule is fixt nought can dismay me Nay death it selfe nor Satan can betray me See! here the Columne of a lively faith The type of Christ in meek and milde behaviour His friends they slight him he contemnes his death And in his miserie still avowd his Saviour This was a love excell'd all loves on earth For Christ he lov'd who lov'd him ere his birth Then how hate I my selfe if I love not My loving Lord who lov'd me from his love He truely loves who for thy sake I wot Loves thee and himselfe for thee this we prove All kindes of love without thy love breed loathing Unlesse we love them for thy sake they 're nothing Great king of glory all thy works invite Us to love thee since thou first loved us As starres do from the Sunne take light and heat For from that fulnesse we the like discusse How can our soules thine Jmage want the sight Of thy bright love whose love is perfect light Lord we do all depend upon thy love Because our being had of thee beginning Next thou preserves us as we rest or move And art our end controlls us when a sinning All what we have we have receiv'd from thee And what we want thou wilt the same supply O God of love thy nature is all love In love more glorious than the sunne in light Thou art an infinite fire from above Which here enlightens with its beames each wight A fire of love a loving fire we finde A light not burnes a flame not quels the minde O Lord if thou thy tender love withdraw And from us slips one step to turne thy back Are we not dead in sloth and sleep no awe But each temptation shall presage our wracke Then Lord uphold us since all worldly things Are ever changing tyme their ruine brings To day we live the morne to grave we 're sped We sight this world as birds by gazers glyde As dreams evanish so our dayes are fled Like water bubles as soone quelld as spyde Thus heart-grown man ingorgd with pryde and lust He posts and posts to death then turnes in dust To argue on corruption that subverts The good we would and choaks our best desires It is a senslesse appetite perverts The light of reason with entangling fires A head-strong blinde irregulary ill That captives wit and wounds both sense and will It s strong in all infirmities injust Still fraile in goodnesse weak in sound conception It s rull'd by nature and her daughter lust Which blinds the light of knowledge with deception Like pitch corruption blacks the purest soule And where it comes makes ev'ry clean thing foule It takes best hold on imbecillitie And where that fortitude deficient is It dare not wrestle with dexteritie Nor count with Temprance one defective misse Much like a Ruffian or a Theefe by night It loves and lives in darknesse more than light Corruption many wayes may be defind To be a Hydra neck'd Herculian snake Stop'd at the eye it compasseth the minde Barr'd from the soule the heart it soone will take Say if the eare be deafe the hand will feele And if it smell not it can taste too well Corruption rules most states and office places In Church and
pleasant ill And in that ill a wofull sowre content Which frights it self with shadows of despaire O! miracle of madnesse what intent Hath my cross'd soule to worke my grievous care If mercy can not move me to amend Yet self-affection might my good intend Why then sick soule dost thou not weep one teare O! that thy grief would windy sighes disclose Let mourning sorrow melt in holy feare And pale remorse dissolve in watrie woes For godly groanes which deep contrition brings They rent the clouds and court the King of kings Whence pardon comes and consolation too And strength to guard us in worst stormy times For what we would the same he helps to doe And for one teare he 'le cover worlds of crymes What though I faint 'cause great is my transgression Yet comfort comes when there 's a free confession Fraile is the foolerie of my fragile flesh Still prone to fall but never prompt to stand I second causes with a desperate dash Cares not for times to come nor what 's in hand If I finde pleasure in the worst of ill I murder reason with a fearlesse will How long shall wicked thoughts in me remaine To slay my soule and bring thy judgements downe When wilt thou curbe my sinne and it restraine Lest like a flood it shall me helplesse drowne Unlesse thy grace support me being fraile There 's nought with mee that can with thee prevaile Alas to number what I should not speake Of holy ones thy Prophets and Apostles How farre too oft from Thee were they to seek Throwne downe 'mongst thornie briers and pricking thistles Yet they were thine thou suffer'd them to fall That in thy mercy thou might them recall Herein their weaknesse and thy power was knowne That to thy glorious Fame it might redound What though they straid these wandrers were thine owne They knew at last thy voice and trac'd the sound Sometimes thy Saints would slip and then repent them With heart-swolne tears which grief grace had lent them Thy holy writs bear of their names record To paternize my hopes fixt on a Rock How ev'r I faile thou art a gracious Lord Full of redemption to thy chosen flock For their examples teach me to beleeve Thou wilt protect me and my faults forgive Gods Champion Joshua when he Jordan crost And raz'd wall'd Jericho downe to the ground Yet sav'd he Rachab all the rest were lost Gratefull he was this Woman mercy found Which towne lay waste till Hiel Bethelite In Achabs time rebuilt its ancient seat This was that towne which Christ so oft past by From Galilee to Jebus Sions glore Where throngd with folk Zacheus could not spy His sacred face but run in haste before And top'd a fig-tree trunck Which seen by Christ Come downe said he Zacheus I 'me thy guest This day salvation to thy house is come I le recompense thy curious carefull eye Select'd thou art for my coelestiall home Great is thy faith though small thy stature be By grace a Gyant though a Dwarfe by nature I am thy Lord Zacheus is my Creature Thus Joshua and Jesus sav'd two here see A bordell Strumpet and this Publican To lesson us what kinde soe're they be Turke Jew or Arab Moore or Mussilman Christ hath his own Cornelius and his Ruth The Moabite Centurions fraught with truth For almes deeds and prayer pierce the clouds Whence Rills of tears do ever springing vent Remorsefull songs explor'd by rusling flouds Bank'd with the willow bondage still lament Where Harpes lye mute and hearts are fill'd with plaints Deploring sore stress'd Sion and her Saints O! if the Heavens would now infuse in me Some divine rapt to lay abroad her crosses But stay sad Soule that is too much for thee Let Pastours plunge these deepths and blaze her losses Onely bewaile her sorrows and thy fall Men may have tongues and have no grace at all Not by compulsion as by sense we see Numbers do slide each training one another Herod could speak and yet with vermine die Curst Cain slew the righteous man his brother Saul he could prophecie and yet he fell The Witch at Endor rang his passing bell Baalim could blesse and Baalim he would curse And yet his Asse did check him but come see Wise was Achitophel his end was worse Proud Absalom was hair-hangd on a tree Like be our foes and like our Church now findes We want but Hushai to bewray false mindes Though Ezra wept and mourn'd for Judahs faults Yet had he adversars which sought to slay him Whilst rearing Sions walls to barre assaults His threatning foes sent Bassads to affray him The people wrought and built with dextrat hand And in the left their swords for guard did stand So so and so the state of Saints should be Resolvd to suffer and resolv'd to fight Yea for the faith should not refuse to die Since truth averres what we acclaime by right But we have Wolves for lambes their coat is all If they get means care not who stand or fall I scorne their checks but more their critick censures Whilst with an honest heart I live to live Whose sharp-edg'd calumnies and scurrile tonsures Retort their breasts but with more grief to grieve If Gods good sprite by grace to blesse contract me I care not how these turnecoat times detract me Their time is short their sentence can not bide Like to opinion so their verdicts follow They 're blinde in reason malicious in pride Whose tongues are Tombs their hearts both false and hollow For whilst their craft deceives them with deceeat They swallow up the hooke and misse the bait Themselves they slay with the same dart they shoot And in the pit do fall they digg'd for other To stand for ill they will not flee a foot Their evils with a show of good they smother But soone mischief can overcrush their braines Men swallow mounts for execrable gaines Alas what is the bubling breath of man VVhose life hangs on his nostrils like to dew Falne from the humid clouds and no wayes can Secure it selfe from Titans scorching view So mens conceit in fond opinions flee VVhiles this whiles that whiles naught their actions be Let Davids hymnes discover all their drifts Till that their very eyes for fat leap out I love that soule surchargd with pious gifts Simple in life and for his conscience stout Say though his best were nought his good intention Cast on the Lord begets a safe prevention The malice of each snare my thoughts imbrace But above all with darling sinnes I dandle I pleasure take wherein there 's no solace And with the Butterflie the flame I handle The wings of lust I oyle then sinne burnes me And whilst I stand to live I post to die Wormes are my Mates when I in grave am laid They 'le feed on me who lov'd to feed on dainties My senslesse Corps shall with the senslesse spade Be made a prey