more harmlesse found and milde His food was Locusts and what there doth spring With Hony that from virgine Hiâ—es distill'd Parcht Bodie hollow Eyes some vncouth thing Made him appeare long since from Earth exilde There burst he foorth All yee whose Hopes relye On GOD with mee amidst these Desarts 〈◊〉 Repent repent and from olde errours tuâ—ne Who listned to his voyce obey'd his cry Onely the Ecchoes which hee made relent Rung from their flintie Caues repent repent THese Eyes deare Lord once Brandons of Desire Fraile Scoutes betraying what they had to keepe Which their owne heart then others set on fire Their traitrous blacke before thee heere out weepe These Lockes of blushing deeds the gilt attire Waues curling wrackefull shelfes to shadow deepe Rings wedding Soules to Sinnes lethargicke sleepe To touch thy sacred Feet doe now aspire In Seas of care behold a sinking Barke By windes of sharpe Remorse vnto thee driuen O let me not expos'd be Ruines marke My faults confest LORD say they are forgiuen Thus sigh'd to TESVS the Bethanian faire His teare-wet Feet still drying with her Haire I Countries chang'd new pleasures out to finde But ah for pleasure new I sound new paine Enchanting Pleasure so did Reason blind That Fathers loue and words I scorn'd as vaine For Tables rich for bed for following traine Of carefull seruants to obserue my Minde These Heards I keepe my fellowes are assign'd Rocke is my Bed and Herbes my Life sustaine Now while I famine feele feare worser harmes Father and Lord I turne thy Loue yet great My faults will pardon pittie mine estate This where an aged Oake had spred its Armes Thought the lost Childe while as the Heardes he led Not farre off on the ackornes wilde them fed IF that the World doth in amaze remaine To heare in what a sad deploring mood The Pelican powres from her brest her Blood To bring to life her yonglings backe againe How should wee wonder of that soueraigne Good Who from that Serpents sting that had vs slaine To saue our lifes shed his Lifes purple flood And turn'd in endlesse Ioy our endlesse Paine Vngratefull Soule that charm'd with false Delight Hast long long wander'd in Sinnes flowrie Path And didst not thinke at all or thoughtst not right On this thy Pelicanes great Loue and Death Heere pause and let though Earth it scorne Heauen see Thee powre foorth teares to him powr'd Blood for thee IF vhen farre in the East yee doe behold Forth from his Christall Bed the Sunne to rise With rosie Robes and Crowne of flaming Gold If gazing on that Empresse of the Skies That takes so many formes and those faire Brands Which blaze in Heauens high Vault Nights watchfull eyes If seeing how the Seas tumultuous Bands Of bellowing Billowes haue their course confin'd How vnsustain'd the Earth still steadfast stands Poore mortall Wights yee e're found in your Minde A thought that some great King did sit aboue Who had such Lawes and Rites to them assign'd A King who fix'd the Poles made Spheares to moue All Wisedome Purenesse Excellencie Might All Goodnesse Greatnesse Iustice Beautie Loue With feare and wonder hither turne your Sight See see alas Him now not in that State Thought could fore-cast Him into Reasons light Now Eyes with teares now Hearts with griefe make great Bemoane this cruell Death and drearie case If euer Plaints iust Wâ—e could aggrauate From Sinne and Hell to saue vs humaine Race See this great King naill'd to an abiect Tree An obiect of reproach and sad disgrace O vnheard Pittie Loue in strange degree Hee his owne Life doth giue his Blood doth shed â—or Wormelings base such Worthinesse to see Poore Wights behold His Visage pale as Lead His Head bow'd to His Brest Lockes sadlie rent Like a cropt Rose that languishing doth fade Weake Nature weepe astonish'd World lament Lamâ—nt you Windes you Heauen that all containes And thou my Soule let nought thy Griefes relent Those Hands those sacred Hands which hold the râ—ines Of this great All and kept from mutuall warres The Elements beare rent for thee their Vaines Those Feete which once must trade on golden Starres For thee with Nailes would bee pierc'd through and â—orne For thee Heauens King from Heauen himselfe â—ebarres This great heart-quaking Dolour waile and mourne Yee that long since Him saw by might of Faith Yee now that are and yee yet to bee borne Not to behold his great Creators Death The Sunne from sinfull eyes hath vail'd his light And faintlieâ—journeyes vp Heaâ—ens saphyre Path And cutting from her Browes her Tresses bright The Moone doth keepe her Lords sad Obseqâ—ies Impearling with her Teares this Robe of Night All staggering and lazie lowre the Skies The Earth and elementall Stages quake The long since dead from bursted Graues arise And can things wanting sense yet sorrow take And beare a Part with him who all them wrought And Man though borne with cryes shall pittie lacke Thinke what had beene your state had hee not brought To these sharpe Pangs himselfe and priz'd so hie Your Soules that with his Life them life hee bought What woes doe you attend if still yee lye Plung'd in your wonted ordures wreâ—ched Brood Shall for your sake againe GOD euer die O leaue deluding shewes embrace true good Hee on you calles forgoe Sinnes shamefull trade With Prayers now seeke Heauen and not with Blood Let not the Lambes more from their Dames bee had Nor Alâ—â—rs blush for sinne liue euery thing That long time long'd for sacrifice is made All that is from you crau'd by this great King Is to beleeue a pure Heart Incense is What gift alas can wee him meaner bring Haste sinne-sicke Soules this season doe doe not misse Now while remorselesse Time doth grant you space And GOD invites you to your onlie Blisse Hee wâ—â— you calles will not denie you Grace But low-deepe burrie faults so yee repent His Armes loe stretched are you to embrace When Dayes are done and Lifes small sparke is spent So yee accept what freelie heere is giuen Like brood of Angels deathlesse all-content Yee shall for euer liue with him in Heauen COme forth come forth yee blest triumphing Bands Faire Citizens of that immortall Towne Come see that King which all this All commands Now ouercharg'd with Loue die for his owne Looke on those Nailes which pierce his Feete and Hands What a sharpe Diademe his Browes doth crowne Behold his pallid Face his Eyes which sowne And what a throng of Theeues him mocking stands Come forth yee empyrean Troupes come forth Preserue this sacred Blood that Earth adornes Gather those liquid Roses off his Thornes O! to bee loost they bee of too much worth For Streams 1 Iuice 2 Balm 3 they are which queÌ„ch 1 kils 2 charms 3 Of GOD 1 Death 2 Hell 3 the wrath 1 the life 2 the harmes3. SOule which to Hell wast thrall Hee Hee for thine offence Did suffer Death who could not die at all O soueraigne Excellence O
FLOVVRES OF SION BY WILLIAM DRVMMOND of Hawthorne-denne TO WHICH IS ADIOYNED HIS CYPRESSE GROVE Printed 1623. FLOWRES OF SION OR SPIRITVALL POEMS BY W. D. TRiumphant Arches Statues crown'd with Bayes Proud Obeliskes Tombes of the vastest Frame Colosses brasen Atlases of Fame Phanes vainely builded to vaine Deities praise States which vnsatiate Mindes in blood doe raise From the Crosse-starres vnto the Articke Teame Alas and what wee write to keepe our Name Like Spiders Caules are made the sport of Dayes All onely constant is in constant Change What done is is vndone and when vndone Into some other figure doth it range Thus rolles the restlesse World beneath the Moone Wherefore my Minde aboue Time Motion Place Thee raise and Steppes not reach'd by Nature trace A Good that neuer satisfies the Minde A Beautie fading like the Aprile flowres A Sweete with floods of Gall that runnes combind A Pleasure passing ere in thought made ours A Honour that more fickle is than winde A Glorie at Opinions frowne that lowres A Treasurie which banckrupt Time deuoures A Knowledge than graue Ignorance more blinde A vaine Delight our equalles to command A Stile of greatnesse in effect a Dreame A fabling Thought of holding Sea and Land A seruile Lot deckt with a pompous Name Are the strange Endes we toyle for heere below Till wisest Death make vs our errores know LIfe a right shadow is For if it long appeare Then is it spent and Deathes long Night drawes neare Shadowes are mouing light And is there ought so mouing as is this When it is most in Sight It steales away and none can tell how where So neere our Cradles to our Coffines are LOoke how the Flowre which lingringly doth fade The Mornings Darling late the Summers Queene Spoyl'd of that Iuice which kept it fresh and greene As high as it did raise bowes low the head Right so my Life Contentments being dead Or in their Contraries but onely seene With swifter speed declines than earst it spred And blasted scarce now showes what it hath beene Therefore as doth the Pilgrime whom the Night Hastes darkely to imprison on his way Thinke on thy Home my Soule and thinke aright Of what yet restes thee of Lifes wasting Day Thy Sunne postes Westward passed is thy Morne And twice it is not giuen thee to be borne THe wearie Mariner so fast not flies An howling Tempest Harbour to attaine Nor Sheepheard hastes when frayes of Wolues arise So fast to Fold to saue his bleeting traine As I wing'd with Contempt and just Disdaine Now flie the World and what it most doth prize And Sanctuarie seeke free to remaine From wounds of abject Times and Enuies eyes To mee this World did once seeme sweete and faire Whiles Senses light Mindes Prospectiue kept blinde Now like imagin'd Landskip in the Aire And weeping Raine-bowes her best Ioyes I finde Or if ought heere is had that praise should haue It is a Life obscure and silent Graue TOo long I followed haue on fond Desire And too long painted on deluding Streames Too long refreshment sought midst burning Fire Runne after Ioyes which to my Soule were Blames Ah! when I had what most I did admire And prou'd of Lifes Delights the last extreames I found all but a Rose hedg'd with a Bryer A nought a thought a show of golden Dreames Henceforth on thee mine onely Good I 'll thinke For onely thou canst grant what I doe craue Thy Nailes my Pennes shall be thy Blood my Inke Thy Winding-sheet my Paper Study Graue And till that Soule from Body parted be No Hope I 'll haue but onely onely Thee OF this faire Volumne which wee World doe name If wee the sheetes and leaues could turne with care Of him who it corrects and did it frame Wee cleare might read the Art and Wisedome â—are Finde out his Power which wildest Pow'rs doth tame His Prouidence extending euery-where His Iustice which proud Rebels doth not spare In euery Page no Period of the same But â—illie wee like foolish Children rest Well pleas'd with colour'd Velumne Leaues of Gold Faire dangling Ribbones leauing what is best On the great Writers sense nee'r taking hold Or if by chance we stay our Mindes on ought It is some Picture on the Margine wrought THe Griefe was common common were the Cryes Teares Sobbes and Groanes of that afflicted Traine Which of Gods chosen did the Summe containe And Earth rebounded with them pierc'd were Skies All good had left the World each Vice did raigne In the most monstrous sorts Hell could deuise And all Degrees and each Estate did staine Nor further had to goe whom to surprise The World beneath the Prince of Darknesse lay In euerie Phan who had himselfe install'd Was sacrifiz'd vnto by Prayers call'd Responses gaue which fooles they did obey When pittying Man God of a Virgines wombe Was borne and those false Deities strooke dombe RUnne Sheepheards run where Bethleme blest appeares Wee bring the best of Newes bee not dismay'd A Sauiour there is borne more olde than yeares Amidst the rolling Heauen this Earth who stay'd In a poore Cotage inn'd a Virgine Maide A weakeling did him beare who all vpbeares There he is swadl'd in Cloathes in Manger lay'd To whoâ— too narrow Swadlings are our Spheares Runne Sheepheards runne and solemnize his Birth This is that Night no Day growne great with Blisse In which the Power of Satan broken is In Heauen be Glorie Peace vnto the Earth Thus singing through the Aire the Angels swame And Cope of Starres re-echood the same O Than the fairest day thrice fairer Night Night to best Dayes in which a Sunne doth rife Of which that golden Eye which cleares the Skies Is but a sparkling Ray a Shadow light And blessed yee in sillie Pastors sight Milde Creatures in whose warme Crib now lyes That Heauen-sent Yongling holy-Maide-borne Wight Midst end beginning of our Prophesies Blest Cotage that hath Flowres in Winter spred Though withered blessed Graâ—se that hath the grace To decke and be a Carpet to that Place Thus sang vnto the soundes of oaâ—en Reed Before the Babe the Sheepheards bow'd on knees And Springs ranne Nectar Hony dropt from Trees TO spread the azure Canopie of Heauen And make it twinkle with those spangs of Gold To stay the pondrous Globe of Earth so euen That it should all and nought should it vphold To giue strange motions to the Planets seuen Or Ioue to make so meeke or Mars so bolde To temper what is moâ—st dry hote and colde Of all their Iarres that sweet accords are giuen LORD to thy Wisedome's nought nought to thy Might But that thou shouldst thy Glorie laide aside Come meanelie in mortalitie to bide And die for those deseru'd eternall plight A wonder is so farre aboue our wit That Angels stand amaz'd to muse on it THe last and greatest Herauld of Heauens King Girt with rough Skinnes hyes to the Desarts wilde Among that sauage brood the Woods forth bring Which he than Man
life of all that liues Eternall Bountie which each good thing giues How could Death mounte so hie No wit this Point can reach Faith onely doth vs teach For vs Hee dyed at all who could not dye LIfe to giue life depriued is of Life And Death display'd hath Ensigne against Death So violent the Rigour was of Death That nought could daunte it but the Life of Life No Power had Pow'r to thrall Lifes Pow'rs to Death But willinglie Life downe hath layed Life Loue gaue the wound which wrought this worke of Death His Bow and Shafts were of the Tree of Life Now quakes the Author of eternall Death To finde that they whom earst he reâ—t of Life Shall fill his Roome aboue the listes of Death Now all rejoyce in Death who hope for Life Dead IESVS lyes who Death hath kill'd by Death No Tombe his Tombe is but new Source of Life RIse from those fragrant Climes thee now embrace Vnto this World of ours O haste thy Race Faire Sunne and though contrarie wayes all yeare Thou hold thy course now with the highest Spheare Ioyne thy blew Wheeles to hasten Time that lowres And lazie Minutes turne in perfect Houres The Night and Death too long a league haue made To stow the World in Horrors vglie shade Shake from thy Lockes a Day with saffron rayes So faire that it out-shine all other dayes And yet doe not presume great Eye of light To be that which this Day must make so bright See an eternall Sunne hastes to arise Not from the Easterne blushing Seas or Skies Or any stranger Worlds Heauens Concaues haue But from the Darknes of an hollow Graue And this is that all-powerfull Sunne aboue That crown'd thy Browes with Rayes first made thee moue Lights Trumpetters yee need not from your Bowres Proclaime this Day this the angelicke Powres Haue done for you But now an opall hew Bepaintes Heauens Christall to the longing view Earths late hid Colours glance Light doth adorne The World and weeping Ioy forth comes the Morne And with her as from a Lethargicke Transe Breath com'd againe that Bodie doth aduance Which two sad Nights in rocke lay coffin'd dead And with au iron Guard invironed Life out of Death Light out of Darknessâ— springs From a base Iaile forth comes the King of kings What late was mortall thrall'd to euerie woe That lackeyes life or vpon sense doth grow Immortall is of an eternall Stampe Farre brighter beaming than the morning Lampe So from a blacke Ecclipse outâ—peares the Sunne Such when a huge of Dayes haue on her runne In a farre Forest in the pearlie East And shee her selfe hath burnt and spicie Nest The lonlie Bird with youthfull Pennes and Combe Doth soare from out her Cradle and her Tombe So a small seed that in the Earth lies hidde And dies reviâ—ing burstes her cloddie Side Adorn'd with yellow Lockes of new is borne And doth become a Mother great with Corne Of Graines brings hundreths with it which when old Enrich the Furrowes with a Sea of Gold Haile holie Victor greatest Victor haile That Hell dost raâ—sacke against Death preuaile O how thou long'd for comes with Iubeling cries The all-triumphing Palladines of Skies Salute thy rising Earth would Ioyes no more Beare if thou rising didst them not restore A sillie Tombe should not his Flesh enclose Who did Heauens trembling Tarasses dispose No Monument should such a Iewell hold No Rocke though Rubye Diamond and Gold Thou onelie pittie didst vs humane Race Bestowing on vs of thy freeâ—giuen Grace More than wee forfaited and loosed first In Edens Rebell when wee were accurst Then Earth our portion was Earths Ioyes but giuen Earth and Earths Blisse thou hast exchang'd with Heauen O what a hight of good vpon vs streames From the great splendor of thy Bounties Beames When we deseru'd shame horrour flames of wrath Thou bled our wounds and suffer didst our Death But Fathers Iustice pleas'd Hell Death o'rcome In triumph now thou risest from thy Tombe With Glories which past Sorrowes contervaile Haile holy Victor greatest Victor haile Hence humble sense and hence yee Guides of sense Wee now reach Heauen your weake intelligence And searching Pow'rs were in a flash made dim To learne from all eternitie that him The Father bred then that hee heere did come His Bearers Parent in a Virgins Wombe But then when sold betray'd crown'd scourg'd with Thorne Naill'd to a Tree all breathlcsse bloodlesse torne Entomb'd him risen from a Graue to finde Confounds your Cunning turnes like Moles you blinde Death theu that heeretofore still barren wast Nay didst each other Birth eate vp and waste Imperious hatefull pittilesse vniust Vnpartiall equaller of all with dust Sterne Executioner of heauâ—nlie doome Made fruitfull now Lifes Mother art become A sweete reliefe of Cares the Soule molest An Harbenger to Glorie Peace and Rest Put off thy mourning Weedes yeeld all thy Gall To daylie sinning Life proud of thy fall Assemble thy Captiues bide all haste to rise And euerie Corse in earth-quakes where it lies Sound from each flowrie Graue and rockie Iaile Haile holy Victor greatest Victor haile The World that waâ—ning late and faint did lie Applauding to our Ioyes thy Victorie To a yong Prime essayes to turne againe And as ere soyl'd with Sinne yet to remaine Her chilling Agâ—es shee beginnes to misse All Blisse returning with the LORD of Blisse With greater light Heauens Temples opened shine Mornes smiling rise Euens blushing doe decline Cloudes dappled glister boistrous Windes are calme Soft Zephyres doe the Fields with sighes embalme In ammell blew the Sea hath â—usht his Râ—ares And with enamour'd Curles doth kisse the Shoares All-bearing Earth like a new-married Queene Her Beauties hightenes in a Gowne of Greene Perfumes the Aire her Meades are wrought with Flowres In colours various figures smelling powres Trees wantone in the Groues with leauie Lockes Her Hilles empampred stand The Vales the Rockes Ring peales of Ioy her Floods and pratling Brookes Starres liquid Mirrors with serpinting Crookes And whispering murmures sound vnto the Maine That Worlds pure Age returned is againe The honnye People leaue their golden Bâ—wres And innocentlie pray on budding Flowres In gloomie Shades pearcht on the tender Sprayes The painted Singers fill the Aire with Layes Seas Floods Earth Aire all diuerslie doe sound Yet all their diuerse Notes hath but one ground Re-echoed heeredowne from Heauens azure Vaile Haile holy Victor greatest Victor haile O Day on which Deathes Adamantine Chaine The LORD did breake ransacking Satans Raigne And in triumphing Pompe his Trophees rear'd Be thou blest euer henceforth still endear'd With Name of his owne Day the Law to Grace Types to their substance yeeld to thee giue place The old New-Moones with all festiuall Dayes And what aboue the rest deserueth praise The reuerend Saboath what could else they bee Than golden Heraulds telling what by thee Wee should enjoy shades past now shine thou cleare And henceforth be thou Empresse of the yeare This