youth and fiercenesse seek thy face At first thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses I had my wish and way My dayes were straw'd with flow'rs and happinesse There was no moneth but May. But with my yeares sorrow did twist and grow And made a partie unawares for wo. â—y flesh began unto my soul in pain Sicknesses cleave my bones â—onsuming agues dwell in ev'ry vein And tune my breath to grones â—orrow was all my soul I scarce beleeved â—ill grief did tell me roundly that I lived â—hen I got health thou took'st away my life And more for my friends die â—y mirth and edge was lost a blunted knife Was of more use then I. Thus thinne and lean without a fence or friend â—was blown through with ev'ry storm and winde Whereas my birth and spirit rather took The way that takes the town Thou didst betray me to a lingring book And wrap me in a gown I was entangled in the world of strife Before I had the power to change my life Yet for I threatned oft the siege to raise Not simpring all mine age Thou often didst with Academick praise Melt and dissolve my rage I took thy sweetned pill till I came neare I could not go away nor persevere Yet left perchance I should too happie be In my unhappinesse Turning my purge to food thou throwest me Into more sicknesses Thus doth thy power crosse-bias me not making Thine own gift good yet me from my wayes taking Now I am here what thou wilt do with me None of my books will show I reade and sigh and wish I were a tree For sure then I should grow To fruit or shade at least some bird would trust Her houshold to me and I should be just Yet though thou troublest me I must be meek In weaknesse must be stout Well I will change the service and go seek Some other master out Ah my deare God! though I am clean forgot Let me not love thee if I love thee not ¶ Repentance LOrd I confesse my sinne is great Great is my sinne Oh! gently treat With thy quick flow'r thy moment anie bloom Whose life still pressing Is one undressing A steadie aiming at a tombe Mans age is two houres work or three Each day doth round about us see Thus are we to delights but we are all To sorrows old If life be told From what life feeleth Adams fall O let thy height of mercie then Compassionate short-breathed men Cut me not off for my most foul transgression I do confesse My foolishnesse My God accept of my confession Sweeten at length this bitter bowl Which thou hast pour'd into my soul â—hy wormwood turn to health windes to fair weather For if thou stay I and this day As we did rise we die together When thou for sinne rebukest man Forthwith he waxeth wo and wan Bitternesse fills our bowels all our hearts Pine and decay And drop away And carrie with them th' other parts But thou wilt sinne and grief destroy That so the broken bones may joy And tune together in a well-set song Full of his praises Who dead men raises Fractures well cur'd make us more strong ¶ Faith LOrd how couldst thou so much appease Thy wrath for sinne as when mans sight was dimme And could see little to regard his ease And bring by Faith all things to him Hungrie I was and had no meat â— did conceit a most delicious feast â— had it straight and did as truly eat As ever did a welcome guest There is a rare outlandish root Which when I could not get I thought it here That apprehension cur'd so well my foot That I can walk to heav'n well neare I owed thousands and much more I did beleeve that I did nothing owe And liv'd accordingly my creditor Beleeves so too and lets me go Faith makes me any thing or all That I beleeve is in the sacred storie And where sinne placeth me in Adams fall Faith sets me higher in his glorie If I go lower in the book What can be lower then the common manger Faith puts me there with him who sweetly took Our flesh and frailtie death and danger If blisse had lien in art or strength None but the wise or strong had gained it Where now by Faith all arms are of a length One size doth all conditions fit A peasant may beleeve as much As a great Clerk and reach the highest stature Thus dost thou make proud knowledge bend crouâ— While grace fills up uneven nature When creatures had no reall light Inherent in them thou didst make the sunne Impute a lustre and allow them bright And in this shew what Christ hath done That which before was darkned clean With bushie groves pricking the lookers eie Vanisht away when Faith did change the scene And then appear'd a glorious skie What though my bodie runne to dust Faith cleaves unto it counting evr'y grain With an exact and most particular trust Reserving all for flesh again ¶ Prayer PRayer the Churches banquet Angels age Gods breath in man returning to his birth The soul in paraphrase heart in pilgrimage â—he Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth â—â—gine against th' Almightie sinners towre Reversed thunder Christ-side-piercing spear The six-daies world-transposing in an houre A kinde of tune which all things heare and fear Softnesse and peace and joy and love and blisse Exalted Manna gladnesse of the best Heaven in ordinarie man well drest The milkie way the bird of Paradise Church-bels beyond the starres heard the souls bloud The land of spices something understood ¶ The H. Communion NOt in rich furniture or fine aray Nor in a wedge of gold Thou who from me wast sold To me dost now thy self convey For so thou should'st without me still have been Leaving within me sinne But by the way of nourishment and strengh Thou creep'st into my breast Making thy way my rest And thy small quantities my length Which spread their forces into every part Meeting sinnes force and art Yet can these not get over to my soul Leaping the wall that parts Our souls and fleshly hearts But as th' outworks they may controll My rebel-flesh and carrying thy name Affright both sinne and shame Onely thy grace which with these elements comes Knoweth the ready way And hath the privie key Op'ning the souls most subtile rooms While those to spirits refin'd at doore attend Dispatches from their friend Give me my captive soul or take My bodie also thither Another lift like this will make Them both to be together Before that sinne turn'd flesh to stone And all our lump to leaven A fervent sigh might well have blown Our innocent earth to heaven For sure when Adam did not know To sinne or sinne to smother He might to heav'n from Paradise go As from one room t'another Thou hast restor'd us to this ease By this thy heav'nly bloud Which I can go to when I please And leave th' earth to their food ¶ Antiphon Cho. LEt all the world
Yet heare O God onely for his blouds sake Which pleads for me For though sinnes plead too yet like stones they maâ—â— His blouds sweet current much more loud to be ¶ The Church-floore MArk you the floore that square speckled stonâ— Which looks so firm and strong Is Patience And th' other black and grave wherewith each one Is checker'd all along Humilitie The gentle rising which on either hand Leads to the Quire above Is Confidence But the sweet cement which in one sure band Ties the whole frame is Love And Charitie Hither sometimes Sinne steals and stains The marbles neat and curious veins But all is cleansed when the marble weeps Sometimes Death puffing at the doore Blows all the dust about the floore But while he thinks to spoil the room he sweeps Blest be the Architect whose art Could build so strong in a weak heart ¶ The Windows LOrd how can man preach thy eternall word He is a brittle crazie glasse â—et in thy temple thou dost him afford This glorious and transcendent place To be a window through thy grace But when thou dost anneal in glasse thy storie Making thy life to shine within The holy Preachers then the light and glorie More rev'rend grows more doth wine Which else shows watrish bleak thin Doctrine and life colours and light in one When they combine and mingle bring A strong regard and aw but speech alone Doth vanish like a flaring thing And in the eare not conscience ring ¶ Trinitie Sunday LOrd who hast form'd me out of mud And hast redeem'd me through thy bloud And sanctifi'd me to do good Purge all my sinnes done heretofore For I confesse my heavie score And I will strive to sinne no more Enrich my heart mouth hands in me With faith with hope with charitie That I may runne rise rest with thee ¶ Content PEace mutt'ring thoughts and do not grudge to keep Within the walls of your own breast Who cannot on his own bed sweetly sleep Can on anothers hardly rest Gad not abroad at ev'ry quest and call Of an untrained hope or passion To court each place or fortune that doth fall Is wantonnesse in contemplation Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie Content and warm t' it self alone But when it would appeare to others eye Without a knock it never shone Give me the pliant minde whose gentle measure Complies and suits with all estates Which can let loose to a crown and yet with pleasure Take up within a cloisters gates This soul doth span the world and hang content From either pole unto the centre Where in each room of the well-furnisht tent He lies warm and without adventure The brags of life are but a nine dayes wonder And after death the fumes that spring From private bodies make as big a thunder As those which rise from a huge King Onely thy Chronicle is lost and yet Better by worms be all once spent Then to have hellish moths still gnaw and fret Thy name in books which may not rent When all thy deeds whose brunt thou feel'st alone Are chaw'd by others pens and tongue â—nd as their wit is their digestion Thy nourisht fame is weak or strong Then cease discoursing soul till thine own ground Do not thy self or friends importune He that by seeking hath himself once found Hath euer found a happie fortune ¶ The Quidditie MY God a verse is not a crown No point of honour or gay suit No hawk or banquet or renown Nor a good sword nor yet a lute It cannot vault or dance or play It never was in France or Spain Nor can it entertain the day With a great stable or demain It is no office art or news Nor the Exchange or busie Hall But it is that which while I use I am with thee and Most take all ¶ Humilitie I Saw the Vertues sitting hand in hand In sev'rall ranks upon an azure throne Where all the beasts and fowls by their command Presented tokens of submission Humilitie who sat the lowest there To execute their call When by the beasts the presents tendred were Gave them about to all The angrie Lion did present his paw Which by consent was giv'n to Mansuetude The fearfull Hare her eares which by their law Humilitie did reach to Fortitude The jealous Turkie brought his corall-chain That went to Temperance On Justice was bestow'd the Foxes brain Kill'd in the way by chance At length the Crow bringing the Peacocks plume For he would not as they beheld the grace Of that brave gift each one began to fume And challenge it as proper to his place Till they fell out which when the beasts espied They leapt upon the throne And if the Fox had liv'd to rule their side They had depos'd each one Humilitie who held the plume at this Did weep so fast that the tears trickling down Spoil'd all the train then saying Here it is For which ye wrangle made them turn their frown Against the beasts so joyntly bandying They drive them soon away And then amerc'd them double gifts to bring At the next Session-day ¶ Frailtie LOrd in my silence how do I despise What upon trust Is styled honour riches or fair eyes But is fair dust I surname them guilded clay Deare earth fine grasse or hay In all I think my foot doth ever tread Upon their head â—â—t when I view abroad both Regiments The worlds and thine â—â—ine clad with simplenesse and sad events The other fine Full of glorie and gay weeds Brave language braver deeds â—hat which was dust before doth quickly rise And prick mine eyes 〈◊〉 brook not this lest if what even now My foot did tread â—ffront those joyes wherewith thou didst endow And long since wed My poore soul ev'n sick of love It may a Babel prove Commodious to conquer heav'n and thee Planted in me ¶ Constancie WHo is the honest man He that doth still and strongly good pursue To God his neighbour and himself most true Whom neither force nor fawning can Unpinne or wrench from giving all their due Whose honestie is not So loose or easie that a ruffling winde Can blow away or glittering look it blinde Who rides his sure and even trot While the world now rides by now lags behinde Who when great trials come Nor seeks nor shunnes them but doth calmly stay Till he the thing and the example weigh All being brought into a summe What place or person calls for he doth pay Whom none can work or wooe To use in any thing a trick or sleight For above all things he abhorres deceit His words and works and fashion too All of a piece and all are cleare and straight Who never melts or thaws At close tentations when the day is done His goodnesse sets not but in dark can runne The sunne to others writeth laws And is their vertue Vertue is his Sunne Who when he is to treat With sick folks women those whom passions sway Allows for that and
and giving light But since those pipes of gold which brought That cordiall water to our ground Were cut and martyr'd by the fault Of those who did themselves through their side wound Thou shutt'st the doore and keep'st within Scarce a good joy creeps through the chink And if the braves of conqu'ring sinne Did not excite thee we should wholly sink Lord though we change thou art the same The same sweet God of love and light Restore this day for thy great name Unto his ancient and miraculous right ¶ Grace MY stock lies dead and no increase Doth my dull husbandrie improve O let thy graces without cease Drop from above If still the sunne should hide his face Thy house would but a dungeon prove Thy works nights captives O let grace Drop from above The dew doth ev'ry morning fall And shall the dew out-strip thy dove The dew for which grasse cannot call Drop from above Death is still working like a mole And digs my grave at each remove Let grace work too and on my soul Drop from above Sinne is still hammering my heart Unto a hardnesse void of love Let suppling grace to crosse his art Drop from above 〈◊〉 come for thou dost know the way â—r if to me thou wilt not move â—emove me where I need not say Drop from above ¶ Praise TO write a verse or two is all the praise That I can raise Mend my estate in any wayes Thou shalt have more 〈◊〉 go to Church help me to wings and I Will thither flie Or if I mount unto the skie I will do more â—an is all weaknesse there is no such thing As Prince or King His arm is short yet with a sling He may do more â—n herb destill'd and drunk may dwell next doore On the same floore To a brave soul Exalt the poore They can do more O raise me then poore bees that work all day Sting my delay Who have a work as well as they And much much more ¶ Affliction KIll me not ev'ry day â—hou Lord of life since thy one death for me Is more then all my deaths can be Though I in broken pay â—ie over each houre of Methusalems stay If all mens tears were let Into one common sewer sea and brine What were they all compar'd to thiâ—â— Wherein if they were set They would discolour thy most bloudy sweat Thou art my grief alone Thou Lord conceal it not and as thou art All my delight so all my smart Thy crosse took up in one By way of imprest all my future mone ¶ Mattens I Cannot ope mine eyes But thou art ready there to catch My morning-soul and sacrifice Then we must needs for that day make a match My God what is a heart Silver or gold or precious stone Or starre or rainbow or a part Of all these things or all of them in one My God what is a heart That thou shouldst it so eye and wooe Powring upon it all thy art As if that thou hadst nothing els to do Indeed mans whole estate Amounts and richly to serve thee He did not heav'n and earth create Yet studies them not him by whom they be Teach me thy love to know That this new light which now I see May both the work and workman show Then by a sunne-beam I will climbe to thee ¶ Sinne. O That I could a sinne once see We paint the devil foul yet he Hath some good in him all agree Sinne is flat opposite to th' Almighty seeing â—t wants the good of vertue and of being But God more care of us hath had If apparitions make us sad By sight of sinne we should grow mad Yet as in sleep we see foul death and live So devils are our sinnes in perspective ¶ Even-song BLest be the God of love Who gave me eyes and light and power this day Both to be busie and to play But much more blest be God above Who gave me sight alone Which to himself he did denie For when he sees my waies I dy But I have got his sonne and he hath none What have I brought thee home For this thy love have I discharg'd the debt Which this dayes favour did beget I ranne but all I brought was â—ome Thy diet care and cost Do end in bubbles balls of winde Of winde to thee whom I have crost But balls of wilde-fire to my troubled minde Yet still thou goest on And now with darknesse closest wearie eyes Saying to man It doth suffice Henceforth repose your work is done Thus in thy Ebony box Thou dost inclose us till the day Put our amendment in our way And give new wheels to our disorder'd clocks I muse which shows more love The day or night that is the gale this th'harbour That is the walk and this the arbour Or that the garden this the grove My God thou art all love Not one poore minute scapes thy breast But brings a favour from above And in this love more then in bed I rest ¶ Church-monuments WHile that my soul repairs to her devotion Here I intombe my flesh that it betimes May take acquaintance of this heap of dust To which the blast of deaths incessant motion Fed with the exhalation of our crimes Drives all at last Therefore I gladly trust My bodie to this school that it may learn To spell his elements and finde his birth Written in dustie heraldrie and lines Which dissolution sure doth best discern Comparing dust with dust and earth with earth These laugh at Ieat and Marble put for signes â—o sever the good fellowship of dust â—nd spoil the meeting What shall point out them â—hen they shall bow and kneel and fall down flat â—o kisse those heaps which now they have in trust â—eare flesh while I do pray learn here thy stemme â—nd true descent that when thou shalt grow fat â—nd wanton in thy cravings thou mayst know â—hat flesh is but the glasse which holds the dust That measures all our time which also shall â—e crumbled into dust Mark here below â—ow tame these ashes are how free from lust That thou mayst fit thy self against thy fall ¶ Church-musick SWeetest of sweets I thank you when displeasure Did through my bodie wound my minde You took me thence and in your house of pleasure A daintie lodging me assign'd Now I in you without a bodie move Rising and falling with your wings We both together sweetly live and love Yet say sometimes God help poore Kings Comfort ' I le die for if you poste from me Sure I shall do so and much more But if I travell in your companie You know the way to heavens doore ¶ Church-lock and key I Know it is my sinne which locks thine eares And bindes thy hands Out-crying my requests drowning my tears Or else the chilnesse of my faint demands But as cold hands are angrie with the fire And mend it still So I do lay the want of my desire Not on my sinnes or coldnesse but thy will
Yet when the houre of thy designe To answer these fine things shall come Speak not at large say I am thine And then they have their answer home ¶ Vanitie POore silly soul whose hope and head lies low Whose flat delights on earth do creep and grow To whom the starres shine not so fair as eyes Nor solid work as false embroyderies Heark and beware lest what you now do measure And write for sweet prove a most sowre displeasure O heare betimes lest thy relenting May come too late To purchase heaven for repenting Is no hard rate If souls be made of earthly mold Let them love gold If born on high Let them unto their kindred flie For they can never be at rest Till they regain their ancient nest Then silly soul take heed for earthly joy Is but a bubble and makes thee a boy ¶ The Dawning AWake sad heart whom sorrow ever drowns Take up thine eyes which feed on earth Unfold thy forehead gather'd into frowns Thy Saviour comes and with him mirth Awake awake And with a thankfull heart his comforts take But thou dost still lament and pine and crie And feel his death but not his victorie Arise sad heart if thou dost not withstand Christs resurrection thine may be Do not by hanging down break from the hand Which as it riseth raiseth thee Arise arise And with his buriall-linen drie thine eyes Christ left his grave-clothes that we might when grief Draws tears or bloud not want an handkerchief ¶ JESU JESU is in my heart his sacred name Is deeply carved there but th' other week A great affliction broke the little frame Ev'n all to pieces which I went to seek And first I found the corner where was I After where ES and next where V was graved When I had got these parcels instantly I sat me down to spell them and perceived That to my broken heart he was I ease you And to my whole is IESV ¶ Businesse CAnst be idle canst thou play Foolish soul who sinn'd to day Rivers run and springs each one Know their home and get them gone Hast thou tears or hast thou none If poore soul thou hast no tears Would thou hadst no faults or fears Who hath these those ill forbears Windes still work it is their plot Be the season cold or hot Hast thou sighs or hast thou not If thou hast no sighs or grones Would thou hadst no flesh and bones Lesser pains scape greater ones But if yet thou idle be Foolish soul Who di'd for thee Who did leave his Fathers throne To assume thy flesh and bone Had he life or had he none If he had not liv'd for thee Thou hadst di'd most wretchedly And two deaths had been thy fee. He so farre thy good did plot That his own self he forgot Did he die or did he not If he had not di'd for thee Thou hadst liv'd in miserie Two lives worse then ten deaths be And hath any space of breath 'Twixt his sinnes and Saviours death He that loseth gold though drosse Tells to all he meets his crosse He that sinnes hath he no losse He that findes a silver vein Thinks on it and thinks again Brings thy Saviours death no gain Who in heart not ever kneels Neither sinne nor Saviour feels ¶ Dialogue SWeetest Saviour if my soul Were but worth the having Quickly should I then controll Any thought of waving But when all my care and pains Cannot give the name of gains To thy wretch so full of stains What delight or hope remains What childe is the ballance thine Thine the poise and measure If I say Thou shalt be mine Finger not my treasure What the gains in having thee Do amount to onely he Who for man was sold can see That transferr'd th' accounts to me But as I can see no merit Leading to this favour So the way to fit me for it Is beyond my savour As the reason then is thine So the way is none of mine I disclaim the whole designe Sinne disclaims and I resigne That is all if that I could Get without repining And my clay my creature would Follow my resigning That as I did freely part With my glorie and desert Left all joyes to feel all smart Ah! no more thou break'st my heart ¶ Dulnesse WHy do I languish thus drooping and dull As if I were all earth O give me quicknesse that I may with mirth Praise thee brim-full The wanton lover in a curious strain Can praise his fairest fair And with quaint metaphors her curled hair Curl o're again Thou art my lovelinesse my life my light Beautie alone to me Thy bloudy death and undeserv'd makes thee Pure red and white When all perfections as but one appeare That those thy form doth show The very dust where thou dost tread and go Makes beauties here Where are my lines then my approaches views Where are my window-songs Lovers are still pretending ev'n wrongs Sharpen their Muse But I am lost in flesh whose sugred lyes Still mock me and grow bold Sure thou didst put a minde there if I could Finde where it lies Lord cleare thy gift that with a constant wit I may but look towards thee Look onely for to love thee who can be What angel fit ¶ Love-joy AS on a window late I cast mine eye I saw a vine drop grapes with I and C Anneal'd on every bunch One standing by Ask'd what it meant I who am never loth To spend my iudgement said It seem'd to me To be the bodie and the letters both Of Ioy and Charitie Sir you have not miss'd The man reply'd It figures IESVS CHRIST ¶ Providence O Sacred Providence who from end to end Strongly and sweetly movest shall I write And not of thee through whom my fingers bend To hold my quill shall they not do thee right Of all the creatures both in sea and land Onely to Man thou hast made known thy wayes And put the penne alone into his hand And made him Secretarie of thy praise Beasts fain would sing birds dittie to their notes Trees would be tuning on their native lute To thy renown but all their hands and throats Are brought to Man while they are lame and mute Man is the worlds high Priest he doth present The sacrifice for all while they below Unto the service mutter an assent Such as springs use that fall and windes that blow He that to praise and laud thee doth refrain Doth not refrain unto himself alone But robs a thousand who would praise thee fain And doth commit a world of sinne in one The beasts say Eat me but if beasts must teach The tongue is yours to eat but mine to praise The trees say Pull me but the hand you stretch Is mine to write as it is yours to raise Wherefore most sacred Spirit I here present For me and all my fellows praise to thee And just it is that I should pay the rent Because the benefit accrues to me We all
they supplie New thoughts of sinning wherefore to my shame Sorrie I am my God sorrie I am ¶ Time MEeting with Time slack thing said I Thy sithe is dull whet it for shame No marvell Sir he did replie If it at length deserve some blame But where one man would have me grinde it Twentie for one too sharp do finde it Perhaps some such of old did passe Who above all things lov'd this life To whom thy sithe a hatchet was Which now is but a pruning-knife Christs coming hath made man thy debter Since by thy cutting he grows better And in his blessing thou art blest For where thou onely wert before An executioner at best Thou art a gard'ner now and more An usher to convey our souls Beyond the utmost starres and poles And this is that makes life so long While it detains us from our God Ev'n pleasures here increase the wrong And length of dayes lengthen the rod. Who wants the place where God doth dwell Partakes already half of hell Of what strange length must that needs be Which ev'n eternitie excludes Thus farre Time heard me patiently Then chafing said This man deludes What do I here before his doore He doth not crave lesse time but more ¶ Gratefulnesse THou that hast giv'n so much to me Give one thing more a gratefull heart See how thy beggar works on thee By art He makes thy gifts occasion more And sayes If he in this be crost All thou hast giv'n him heretofore Is lost But thou didst reckon when at first Thy word our hearts and hands did crave What it would come to at the worst To save Perpetuall knocking 's at thy doore Tears â—ullying thy transparent rooms Gift upon gift much would have more And comes This not withstanding thou wentst on And didst allow us all our noise Nay thou hast made a sigh and grone Thy joyes Not that thou hast not still above Much better tunes then grones can make But that these countrey-aires thy love Did take Wherefore I crie and crie again And in no quiet canst thou be Till I a thankfull heart obtain Of thee Not thankfull when it pleaseth me As if thy blessings had spare dayes But such a heart whose pulse may be Thy praise ¶ Peace SWeet Peace where dost thou dwell I humbly crave Let me once know I sought thee in a secret cave And ask'd if Peace were there A hollow winde did seem to answer No Go seek elsewhere I did and going did a rainbow note Surely thought I This is the lace of Peaces coat I will search out the matter But while I lookt the clouds immediately Did break and scatter Then went I to a garden and did spy A gallant flower The crown Imperiall Sure said I Peace at the root must dwell But when I digg'd I saw a worm devoure What show'd so well At length I met a rev'rend good old man Whom when for Peace I did demand he thus began There was a Prince of old At Salem dwelt who liv'd with good increase Of flock and fold He sweetly liv'd yet sweetnesse did not save His life from foes But after death out of his grave There sprang twelve stalks of wheat Which many wondring at got some of those To plant and set It prosper'd strangely and did soon disperse Through all the earth For they that taste it do rehearse That vertue lies therein A secret vertue bringing peace and mirth By flight of sinne Take of this grain which in my garden grows And grows for you Make bread of it and that repose And peace which ev'ry where With so much earnestnesse you do pursue Is onely there ¶ Confession O What a cunning guest Is this same grief within my heart I made Closets and in them many a chest And like a master in my trade In those chests boxes in each box a till Yet grief knows all and enters when he will No scrue no piercer can Into a piece of timber work and winde As Gods afflictions into man When he a torture hath design'd They are too subtill for the subt'llest hearts And fall like rheumes upon the tendrest parts We are the earth and they Like moles within us heave and cast about And till they foot and clutch their prey They never cool much lesse give out No smith can make such locks but they have keyes Closets are halls to them and hearts high-wayes Onely an open breast Doth shut them out so that they cannot enter Or if they enter cannot rest But quickly seek some new adventure Smooth open hearts no fastning have but fiction Doth give a hold and handle to affliction Wherefore my faults and sinnes Lord I acknowledge take thy plagues away For since confession pardon winnes I challenge here the brightest day The clearest diamond let them do their best They shall be thick and cloudie to my breast ¶ Giddinesse OH what a thing is man how farre from power From setled peace and rest He is some twentie sev'rall men at least Each sev'rall houre One while he counts of heav'n as of his treasure But then a thought creeps in And calls him coward who for fear of sinne Will lose a pleasure Now he will fight it out and to the warres Now eat his bread in peace And snudge in quiet now he scorns increase Now all day spares He builds a house which quickly down must go As if a whirlwinde blew And crusht the building and it 's partly true His minde is so O what a sight were Man if his attires Did alter with his minde And like a Dolphins skinne his clothes combin'd With his desires Surely if each one saw anothers heart There would be no commerce No sale or bargain passe all would disperse And live apart Lord mend or rather make us one creation Will not suffice our turn Except thou make us dayly we shall spurn Our own salvation ¶ The bunch of grapes JOy I did lock thee up but some bad man Hath let thee out again And now me thinks I am where I began Sev'n yeares ago one vogue and vein One aire of thoughts usurps my brain I did toward Canaan draw but now I am Brought back to the Red sea the sea of shame For as the Jews of old by Gods command Travell'd and saw no town So now each Christian hath his journeys spann'd Their storie pennes and sets us down A single deed is small renown God works are wide and let in future times His ancient justice overflows our crimes Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds Our Scripture-dew drops fast We have our sands and serpents tents and shrowds Alas our murmurings come not last But where 's the cluster where 's the taste Of mine inheritance Lord if I must borrow Let me as well take up their joy as sorrow But can he want the grape who hath the wine I have their fruit and more Blessed be God who prosper'd Noahs vine And made it bring forth graâ—es good store But much more