feares to die for good Yet for Christ t' is more glory to be crost then of him to be crown'd an earthly King The last may be by chance or Treason lost but from the Crosse immortall Crownes doe spring To be in glory may proceede of Grace without the glorifide his meriting But well-borne Crosses alter quite the case Vertue consists in doing hardest things And vicious Fooles haue too too oft beene Kings Who suffers straight hath but one victorie but he that alwayes doth encounter paine And yet o'er-throwes the strong'st Extremitie is crowned eu'ry day and still shall raigne And what is Death but our best earthly friend which kils our Flesh our deadliest enemy So friendly is both to and in the end Then Crauen why doe I so flye his force That saues me when he makes my corps a corse For if the pining of the body be the pampring of the Soule than must this friend That with his paines makes vertuous Soules to flye where they are pamper'd without meane or end Be still embrac'd noâ— fled but ô fraile flesh this dying doctrine doth but thee offend That hold'st it most erronious fond and fresh Thou canst not poise these treasures of the Sp'rit for they are waighty and thou art too light Thou must haue all that may thy Senses charme with sweete as most effeminate delights And fly'st from Death to honied pleasures swarme yea follow'st them in their vnconstant flights Austeritie nor canst nor wilt thou brooke sith it quite mortifies thy liuely sp'rits And for thy life still put'st thee to thy Booke But thou dost long for all that makes thee light As well within as gawdy still in sight Mean while thou burn'st to nought with flames of sin for as the Lightnings flash although it spares The painted sheath it melts the Blade within which is the thing more worthy so it fares With sinnes pernitious fire-flash for it leaues the goods and body sound but vnawares The Soule more pretious it of life bereaues But who to spare a Thing of nought will spend Gods Goape his Soule hee 's mad cannot mend Many though Princes poore are in their store in Honors abiect malecontent in mirth Their flesh selfe frailtie their spirits basely poore their Soule 's the sinckâ— of all the sinnes on Earth The Moths of Man-kinde sores of Sou'raigntie vnhappily-happie in their base-high Birth Who liue like Monsters and like Diuels dye The rich possesse the meeke the Earth enioy For they haue most that haue the lest annoy Looke in the Graues suruey the Emperours Kings Dukes and Worthies of the Ages past Then looke on those whom life and death obscures poore Beggers tell me then who 's first who last Who rich who poore who faire foule high or low but if thou canst when burnt be diuers Woods Their Ashes well distinguish then maist thou distinguish of their bodyes states and blouds Then wherefore waigh we so our Flesh misled That 's light as vanitie aliue and dead And life at best is but a golden sleepe lin'd but with siluer or more earthly dreames Or else a Tragedie that moues to weepe of ceaselesse troubles and most dire Extreames A passing but from life is life for still in stay'ing it goes yet vnlike Water-streames That running stay alike by Natures skill Streames running rest the same and not the same But still vnlike doth burne our vitall-flame Things future are beginning endlesly Things present euer ending and Things past Quite dead or done for while we liue wâ— dye and dead we liue so life is first and last Then better dye to life than liue to death for mortall-life in Death but time doth waste And Death doth gaine of â—ime he shorteneth Who for our good our bodyes still assailes And frees our Soules by ruining their Iayles It is but Natures necessary wracke then let vs make it voluntarie that Is necessary and still bowe our Backe vnder the burden of our common state With all alacritie and giue to God his owne which were most damn'd to alienate Sith he of Dolorâ— paid for it his lode Then it were Sacriledge not to restore That which he made lent and bought and more Death 's dreadfull but to those that know him not to those that know him well hee is not so The Old before their faces him haue got the young behinde while he doth all o'erthrow Acquaintance with the Warres estrangeth feare they dread not waues at Sea though high they goe that vs'd are to them though they all orebeare And with them fight in front or in the reare Then not to feare Death is with him to be Familiar made and bring Sense vnder lee The Pilot while he is his Ship to guide sits at the Stearne for there he most preuailes And so the vertuous maugre winde and Tyde when through this stormy Sea of life he sailes Sits at the Stearne that is lifes hinder-piece where he in Tempests bearing lowest Sailes Conducts it safely to the Port of Peace To beare high sailes and still forbeare the helme Is Ship and Fraight so quite to ouer-whelme Death is the doore whereby we must goe out of straitest Bonds to freest Libertie Then as the Pris'ner that of Death doth doubt yet waites the while for his deliuery Most ioyes in sitting at the Prison dore that when it 's op'ned he may instantly Get out t' enioy his freedome as before So should our Thoughts be fixt on lifes last steppe To which we soone may iump but not o'er-leape Thoughts mortifide the ashes are wherein the fire of Vertue being rak'd vp close The longer lasts and greater heate doth winne to kindle courage in our cold dispose That when Death comes and those shall be vnrak't we may reioyce our flame so freely goes Vnto her Spheare then should it not be slack't In Chimney of our flesh where it doth lye Like to be quencht with our iniquitie And as a floud that from a mountaines top doth rowling run with strange as ceaslesse noise And ouer many crâ—ggy Le ts doth hop till in the Valâ— beneath it rest enioyes So fares it with our life which we beginne with ceaslesse out-cryes for our felt annoyes Then downe Times houres we run through lets sin Till in the end we rest in vale of Death To which we blow our selues by spending breath Then Death 's our rest for since the same hath past through lifes pure Veynes or rather Lords of life Of the least bitternâ—sse it hath no taste but freshest sweetnesse therein still is rife It is the vertuous peacefull Paradise but to the vicious t is a World of strife For nought is plagu'd in Death but mortall Vice Then he may well be stil'd a Martyrs Peere That vertuous Death doth rather seeke than feare Death to a Thiefs's compar'd who if he findes the Man he meanes to rob vpon his guard He speakes him faire else him he bindes and blindes so Death is kinde to those for him prepar'd But curst to them that
doâ— bestow a Wise-mans â—ee Which thâ—se wise Seers onely doe fore-see Sinfull Curiositie had rather be acquainted with the Diuell then with God or his Saints HAue any made a Cou'nant with blacke Hell and are Familiar with infernall Sprights They shall be sought to wheresoe'er they dwell for many Soules desire to see those sights But liues Elias most familiar with GOD and Heau'n where great ones most frequent He liues as in his firie Câ—ach he were for none comes neere so meere an Innocent Thus doth the Diuell Lord it o'er the Aire and those that most doe prize It while his slaues Are more sought to then Saints or Angels faire though such Fiends bideing be among the graues Then what so senselesse as the World to take Delight in Diu'ls and in Hell for their sake Againe of the same WEre Bacon and that Vandermast aliue Aire if liue they did where Men might draw but They with a mischieâ—e wold much more than thriue for they would smothred be with Mens repaire Some Bladuds would inuest them with their Robes nay Crowne them too to learne them but to flye That so they might but glide about the Globes to be admir'd for Iack-dawes qualitie So much Men singularitie affect that to be singular though but in Toyes They 'l freâ—ly giue what they doe most respect so much their inward Man loues outward Ioyes Nay Men to Hell will creep from out the Croude Ere they 'l be drowned in the Multitude That Persecutors of Truth are their owne Tormentors IF Vertues Sonnes be plagu'd with Vices Broode sith they by Nature still doe disagree It 's for the vicious plague and vertuous good which both shall here or else-where shortly see If our good life our Enemies encrease that bad encrease in that great good is drown'd Who fight against themselues but for our Peace and through our Weeds their Hearts and Soules do wound Our Sauiour through his Death did Death subdue to make vs conquer by enduring strife Then what though They to Death doe vs pursue when through our Death they dye to giue vs liâ—e But with such proofes none but such Saints are prou'd That of his Iudge in death was fear'd and lou'd The righteous in Ioy or Griefe Life or Death GOD keepes as his Treasure FEll Malice most of her owne Poison drinkes for them she plagues doe sippe but of the toppe But she of that which to the Bottome sinckes to worke in Her Perdition without Hope Impietie and Plagues are of an age being burnt not in the Hand but in the Heart For who against the good doe battaile wage shall perish through his pow'r that takes their part And if for vertue Men are made away GOD takes for sacrifice their sufferings But when by course of Nature they decay he then receiues them as Peace-offerings So that in life and death the righteous rest As th' Apple of his Eye as safe as blest That mens Deuotions towards God and Goodnesse are most mutable NOught in our Life endures so many Turnes as our Deuotion off on in and out Now cold as Yce and by and by It burnes scarse in one moode while we can turne about If good we heare perhaps we thinke thereon but be it ill ill past perhaps we minde Thus rowle we euer like a thriftlesse stone till Death vs stay by force or Course of kinde From Sinne to Sinne as Flies from sore to sore we still doe shift the best Men Men are still The worst are worse than Beasts to kill or store for they are leaue in good but fat in ill Then blest are they that neyther fat nor leaue Haue rowl'd to Rest but with the Golden-meane To my most honored and approued best Friend and Alye Sr. Fran Louell Knâ—ght God takes the Will for the Deede ALthough we doe not all the good we loue but still in loue desire to doe â—he same Nor leaue the Sinnes we hate but â—â—â—ing moue our Soule and Bodyes Pow'rs their forcâ— to tame The good wee doe GOD takes as done aright that we desire to doe He takes as done The Sinne we shunne He will with Grace requiâ—e and not impute the Sinne we seeke to shunne But good Desires produce no worser Deedes for GOD doth both together lightly giue Because He knowes a righteous Man must needes by Faith that workes by Loue for euer liue then to doe nought but onely in desire Is Loue that burnes but burnes like painted fire The Vertuous liue well for Vertues sake the Vicious for feare of Punishment THree things in Iudgement haue obserued bin to woâ—k with wicked ones shame griefe feare And yet without shame griefe or feare they sinne till Iudgement strict beginneth to appeare If Iudgement then haue force t'extort these three they haue no Iudgement that will not preuent This sore Extortion with an easie fee that is liue well if not then well repent But are these two performed with such ease Gods Yâ—ake is easie and his burden light And such as cannot well away with these can neyther liue well nor repent aright But if they cannot much lesse can they beare What Iudgement wil extort shame griefe feare That there is no peace to the Wicked THe Wickeds rest is like the raging Deepe whose smoothest Peace is rough intestine War With whose Alar'ms they often start in sleepe whose Heart-strings with such fretting Stops doe iarre Yet as the Sea seemes calme as other Brookes till Windes arise wherewith they rage as mad So oft the Wicked-man as smoothly lookes in prosperous state as he whom GOD doth glad And in this plight he Saint it can aswell at least in shew as can the holiest Saint Yea can for glory in Good-workes excell and Pietie in Word and Deed depaint But when Afflictions flawes beginne to blow He playes the Diuell both in Deed and Show That a vexed Conscience is the onely Hell on Earth THe Bodies rest doth most disease the Soule that is diseased with Sinnes sorest Sting For then the Thoughts about that Pricke doe roule and to the Soule an Hell of Horror bring The Minde then looking into Fancies Mirrour sees nothing there but Sinne that sits a-Broode On grimme Chimaeraes and sights full of horror so to confound the Minde or mad her mood For when Sinne onely fronts the Phantasie that Glasse reflects these horrid Formes by kinde Then when the body most alone doth lye these Monsters muster most about the Minde O! Plague of plagues when Sense nor Reas'n can spye A Reall Obiect from a Phantasie Phantasie a great Comforter or Tormenter GIue me Iobs Botches Naamans Leprosie nay giue me All that plagues the outward sense Rather then Terrors of the Phantasie crawling from out an Hell of Conscience And giue me all the Hels the Damn'd endure this Hell alone excepted I will be Able to make them Heau'ns in Conscience pure through Operations of the Phantasie Asleepe awake in Company alone past-vnderstanding Peace and Ioyes past Ioy In our Mindes Kingdome
Hope at thee doth graspe Fasten their fingers giue them strength to hold As Ancors sure in roughest Tempests would Kind Lord sole comfort hope of each poore wretch With Eyes conuerting Peter looke on me Those glittring Sunnes their beames of comfort stretch To cursed'st sinners if they contrite be Then let those sacred Sun-beames gild with grace My blacke dispairing Soule and rue her case The longing of the Soule to be with God SOule-searching Lord and sole selfe-searching God Let my poore Soule thy vnknowne sweetnesse know Thy staying Staffe sin-correcting Rod On me on me sweet Loue in loue bestow Strength of my weaknes my great weaknes strength guide thou my Goings stay my stumbling feete My stumbling feet establish Lord at length in pathes that are as pure as sure and sweet Eye of mine Eye let my dimme Eye behold thee Dim'd with the hellish mist of damn'd desires Ioy of my heart ô let my heart iâ—fold thee and take my Spirit that still to thee aspires O Beauties Beautie wound my heart with Loue Life of my life let my life liue in thee In thee I haue my being liue and moue Of me but thou then who should mouer be Celestiall Bridegroome kisse thy Spouse my Soule With kisses sweet of vnconceiued peace On thy transpierced palme her name enrowle With thy sinne-purging bloud my sinnes release Mellefluous Sweetnesse sweetning sweetest sweets Sweeten my Sowre sowre Leauen of offence Season my fleshes Lump with matter meete For Sacrifice sweete smelling to thy sense O Goodnesse let me Badnesse thee embrace With hold-fast armes of euer-lasting loue O Well of Life in this dry barren place Quench thou my thirst for thee which here I proue Be thou to me a plague preuenting Towre When plaguesâ—ngirt â—ngirt my Soule with fierce assault My forcelesse force then strengthen with thy power that if o'er-borne yet not through my Wils fault Doe ope the entries of my deafned Eares Deafe with the dinne of words breath'd by despair O thundring Voyce that Hel from Heauen heares Breake through the bars that let thy words repaire O let the deepes in dreadfull harmonie Their Billowes tune vnto that awfull voyce Let Heauen and Earth in ioynt conspiracie with it accord to drownd Sinnes hellish noyse Turn thou mine Eies with fearful Lightnings flash From Eye-bewitching Obiects of offence Deaden my flesh my bones to ponder dash That dead to Sinne may quicke in thee haue sense Encrease thy Streames lay ope the water-springs That Earths foundations proplesse may appeare My earthly thoughts all soild with earthly things Thy troubles streames through mercy straind will cleare O light vnseene enlightning all that see Lighten mine eyes that they may see thy light That light that with no darknesse can agree O light of lights present that to my sight Sauour of life giue new life to my smell That on the sent of thy diuine perfumes I may runne after thee through Heauen and Hell Through comfort or throgh care that life consumes O touch my sensuall ill-affected Taste With finger of thy sweet life-giuing Loue That it may proue the sweetnesse which thou hast Which may thy sweetnesse to my soule approue Giue me a Minde to minde thee Heart to loue thee Soule to adore thee Spirit to discerne thee A Reas'n that may in reason most approue thee And Reason most for that doth most concerne thee O liuely Sweet ô sweet Life-giuing Life O let my Loue in thy Loues life be bounded The life of loue portcullized from strife which liuely life with louely loue 's surrounded O life my life life without which I die O laborinth of life ô maze of loue Where shall I finde thee sweet loue when shall I my loue to loue and life to life remoue O where art thou thou great all-mouing mouer Can clouds encompasse thy vncompast Greatnes Thou endlesse life vnlimitable louer No no sweet loue then show to me thy sweetnes Be neere me in my heart my minde my mouth Neere in my hearing and each other sense Neere in mine age and neere me in my youth neere in mine end to end without offence Through ardent loue I pine away for thee For want of thee deare sweet my Soule is sad Then longd-for louely loue appeare to me And with thy glorious presence make me glad Thy sense-refreshing sent my Spirit reuiues To minde thee 's Nectar to my thirstie Soule Thy Inspiration Consolation giues Such consolations as all cares controule But yet ô yet euen as the chased Hart For water thirsts so thirsts my Soule for thee For thee sweet loue for my soules soule thou art Without which soule can my soule liuing be O when shall I deare Lord vnworthy I Appeare in thy pure Palace Christiline My mounting Spirit wing'd with Desire doth flye Aboue it selfe to see that Court of thine Ioy of my soule when when aye me ô when Shall I with eyes immortall see thy glory Alas I liue a dying life till then Till when my longing soule can be but sory O why turnst thou my Ioy my hearts desire Thy Sunne-ecclipsing glorious face from me Where art thou hid Earth Water Aire or Fire Cannot containe the smallest glimpse of thee Then where art hid ô changelesse fairest Faire For whom my rauisht soule in loue doth languish The smell of whom lifes ruines doth repaire Though life assailed be with mortall anguish But ah aye me I see I see thee not And that I cannot kils my louing heart Yet when I heare thy voyce I haue forgot What me annoid and ioy suppresseth smart But why ah why from me hid'st thou thy face Perhaps thou â—aist Man cannot liuing see it Bee 't so sweet Lord I faine would death embrace To see the same so be it ô so be it Here let me dye that I may see thee There There where my Soule so much desires to see it That life as death I hold that holds me here Then let me dye so be it ô so be it Faine would my Soule this fardle of my Flesh Lay downe at gastly Deaths vnfleshy feet That being consum'd I may resume afresh â—mmortall flesh for thy pure presence meet O Christ my Iesus take my spirit to thee My spirit aspiring clogg'd with fleshes waight It 's jaild too long it longs let loose to be And euery moment for release doth waite My Ioy draw thou my heart that ioyes in nought but in thy ioy sole ioy of blissefull hearts To thy true ioy whose griess such blisse hath bought which blisse my griefs with ioy to blisse conuerts Enter into me Sweetnesse make me sweet Sweet Ioy possesse me make me sad reioyce Eternall light shine on me make me meet To see and know and loue thee as my Choise The cause I loue not is I know thee not I know thee not in not perceiuing thee I not perceiue for darknesse light doth blot Light shines in darkenesse yet It cannot see Who sees thee knows who knows thee stil doth loue thee Who sees
And from my second Cause my wants proceed Then what can cause so good effect as this But thou whose Will is still in act and dead Looke what I am at best I am by Thee And when at worst in thee my hope still is For as no one but Thoâ— could fashion me So none but Thou can mend my least amisse Then what I am in deed or else in hope When I am best in both of thee I am Thou art my Soule and bodies vtmost scope Thou mad'st them both then oughst to haue the same If then Thou be my Beauties beauty yea The beauty of my Soules diuinest Part For Thou of beauty art the bancklesse Sea Who then but thou should wholy haue my Heart O Loue that burn'st in Heauens eternall Breast O Dart that woundest the whole Trâ—nitie O more much more then Crosse-wound me at least And let that Fire still burne me till I die O let my Soule melt Lord in thine applause Through holy-raging Flames of quenchlesse Loue O cause of causes this vouchsafe to cause And let these Flames their force vpon me proue O holy holy holy Trinitie Most holy Father and most gracious Sonne Most louing Holy-Ghost in Vnitie A Trinitie and but one God alone When when ô when will you three dwell in mee And make me one with you as one you are Of three make foure and one of one and three Your Essence keepe let me your goodnesse share When will it be ô when ô were it now Shall I ne'er see it ô how long delay O tedious tarrying how ô LORD ô how Shall I straight rest in thee mine onely stay Haste thee my Iesus haste deare Loue make haste I cannot stay then come my Ioy ô come My haste is great and I but Time doe waste Till I thy Loue and Time doe ouercome O my Soules Centre my Wils sweet repose Light of my Mindes Eye my Thoughts Paradise Heau'n of my Heart Companion of my Woes Salue of my Sores Cure of my Maladies Ioy of mine Exile and my Guide therein Breath of my Nostrils End of my Desires Iudge of my Life Forgiuer of my Sinne O all in all whereto mine All aspires If thou be these and all in all to mee Can I forget thee during but a Thought If so I should let me remembred be With pinching plagues to minde thee as I ought If I so much forget my selfe and thee Let my right Hand forget her cunning quight Nay let me not remember what I see That Memory so wrong'd may minde thy right No sleepe mine Eyes no rest mine Head shall haue Till thou my Head within my Heart doe rest Then enter Loue to enter ô vouchsafe It is but what thou offer'st I request Then let this offer of my Will and Loue Moue me to that to which thou me dost moue An acknowledgement of Gods gifts with desire of vnion with the Giuer IF we for fading Gifts are euer bound To loue our Friends for Gifts still loue do breed And if the Fire doe more or lesse abound According as the Fuell It doth feed Then ô how great a Flame of endlesse loue Should ô deare Lord still feede vpon mine All Sith past all measure I thy bounties proue And feed'st this Fire with Vnction-spirituall If the whole frame of Nature nay sweet Lord If Heau'n and Earth and all they doe containe Be but meere Gifts which thou dost me afford Then how shold Loue but in me more then raigne And that so much the more because there be In thee besides all Causes causing loue Which in their high'st perfection are in thee Then can such Motiues but much more then moue If Goodnesse I respect in thee it is As farre from Limit as Similitude For thou art LORD the boundlesse Sea of Blisse Because thou art the high'st Beatitude If Beautie I regard then thou art Hee That art the Fount from whence all Beauty flowes Whose Face the Angels still desire to see Whose Influence their Faces ouer-flowes If Bounty then who is so liberall As thou selfe bounty that dost gratis giue All and much more in deede then all to All By which they more then liberally doe liue If Riches who so rich as hee that owes What not If Being or what can be beside If Friendship who so kinde who for his Foes Did Death with torment willingly abide If Likenesse be a cause that loue effects Then who like that by which I am but thou For thou mad'st it like theeâ—n â—n all respects Saue that like thee it knowes not where nor how And if the END for which we all things doe The Finall END be infinitely lou'd Then who mine ALPHA and OMEGA too But thou to whom by Nature I am mou'd From thee to Thee by onely Natures skill I come and goe but goe not as I came For I came from thee iust as thou art still But doe returne opprest with sinne and shame If then to be thine Image with the rest Be seu'rall motiues strong of Loue intire Then what ought that to be bred of the best Nay bred of all but Loues eternall fire For as the Sea is greater then each Floud Which from and to her Bosome euer moues So is thy Goodnesse greater then each Good And thy loue more then other lasting loues Ah Lord what made thee make me but that loue What to redeeme me but that tender moode Of nought thou mad'st me which can nothing moue Being Nought and me redeemest to make me good O let me stretch the armes of mine Affects To hold thee to the Breast of my dâ—sires O cause of sweetnesse cause these sweet effects And make my Breast the Furnace for these Fires The Iuy still doth clip her neighb'ring Tree Because thereby it is â—dâ—anced oft Then will I cling to that on Caluaree Because thereby I shall be rais'd aloft The Iuy spreads her branches not so farre Nor by a Cedar so aduanc'd can be As my Soules pow'rs increast in vertue are And made to mount by vertue of this Tree Then ô that all my bodies Limbes were Armes That I on eu'ry side might it embrace Thy Crosse ô Christ doth blesse al thine from harmes And with ioy comforts them in woefull case O Christ that did the Crosses Tree ascend That so thou mightst draw all things vnto thee O draw me then let my life with thine end That so my life with thine may endlesse be Thou that didst Deitie to Manhood knit Two Natures so in Nature different Making one person of them infinite To make me one with the Omnipotent Grant that the vertue of that VNION May euer make vs more entire then ONE A thankfull remembrance of our preseruation notwithstanding our manifold sinnes WIth wounded Spirit I salute thy Woundâ— O all-bewounding Sacrifice for Sinne For my Soules health from thy Hearts hurt redounds Because thou dyedst to liue my Heart within With what loue shall I quite such wondrous Loue That comes from such vnheard-of Clemencie Who art
thou and who am I that can moue Heau'ns God t'immure himselfe in misery That thou whose Glory Glory it selfe admires Sholdst deigne to dwel in durt more vile then dung Sith Holinesse sweet Lord thy House requires Which hardly rests where many vices throng Heau'n is thy Seate the Earth thy Footstoole is For Heau'n and Earth thy Maiestie doth fill Then why great God art thou well pleas'd with this That thou art made but Mud for mire so ill For if the Heau'n nay Heau'n of Heauens be But too too small thy greatnesse to containe Then how can my heart lesse then nought hold thee How in a Bit of Wormes-meate canst thou raigne O Wonder that all Maruels farre surmounts He that vpon the Cherubins doth ride And viewes all Deeps from thence himself dismounts That he may in my Heart deepe Hell abide It not suffiz'd thy glowing Charitie To giue me Angels for my Guards and Guides Nay wast not onely pleas'd for me to dye But dwelst in me to giue me life besides There dost thou visit in the kindest kinde The Sicke sore sicke to giue him health thereby Sore sick in Body but more sicke in Minde And raise the Dead that willingly did dye My Soule exulteth with ioy rauished When as I minde that Miracle how once A Prophets dead Bones rais'd to life the Dead Onely by touching those life-giuing Bones If those dead Bones had such reuiuing pow'r Then what shall not Gods liuing Body doe The liuing Body of Lifes Gouernour Must needes giue endlesse Life and Glory too And if dead Bones conceiued in Sinne haue might To giue life to a sinfull Bodie dead What shall that doe conceiued by thy Spirit That must needs life-inspire eu'n senselesse Bread My Soule though dead in Sinne yet touching Thee By Faith and in thy bloud being sanctifide Can it but more then liue in Thee and me When Thou therein dost more then still abide And sith that Corpes was rais'd that crau'd not life By touching those dead Bones then Lord let me That as my Husband clip thee as thy Wise Be rais'd to life that beg the same of thee I cannot thinke because I thinke of thee as more then Grace it selfe that thou hast borne My sinnes and in my sinnes dost beare with mee that of thy Grace I shall be quite forlorne O! can my Soule but melt to thinke how oft thou mightst haue slaine me yet didst vse thy knife To prune and make me grow in Grace aloft and â—lu'st my Foes therewith that sought my life How many thousand Soules now burne in Hell that haue perhaps sinn'd lesse then sinfull I Who held thy Hands when I did so rebell that I should liue when Soules lesse sinfull dye My sinnes cry to thee and thou stop'st thine Eares lest thou sholdst heare them the more they cry The more thy deafenesse to them still appeares as if thou didst their clamorous suite deny I doe but sinne and thou dost me but saue if I flye fast from thee thou followest faster Though I be tir'd with Sinne thy Mercies haue no meane to tire but meanes my Sinnes to master The more I sinne the more thou humblest mee so mak'st me know my selfe by knowing Sinne Nay more it puls me from my selfe to thee so though I lose my selfe yet thee I winne O strange disposing of the worst of Ill meere Concord of maine Contradiction That which puls from doth draw together still where loue drawes Discords to make Vnion So then my Faults as if they Vertues were wrought for my good by thee that hast the skill To beare with men to make them sinne forbeare and so through Grace to pull good out of Ill Yet didst thou whisper in my Soules right Eare that I should doe no ill for such good end But mad'st me sinning Sinne to hate and feare in loue for that it did thee LOVE offend With Thornes thou dost hedge-in my narrow Way that if I ere so little step awry They straight doe pricke me and so make me pray for help to thee in whom all help doth lye And as the Hunter stoppeth vp each Gap wher-through the wild Bore may escape vncaught So dost thou stop my way with each misse-hap when I would runne away from thee to nought Am I escapt from out thy mercies Hands thy Hand of Iustice puls me in againe So Mercy holds me by which Iustice stands to help to hold me safe by ease and paine Haue I a Will by Death to damne my Soule by desprate Death to damne not mine but thine Thou dost that Will with thy good Will controule And mak'st my Will thy Will in spight of mine Am I resolu'd to sinne presumptuously and that of purpose to despight thee too Thou mak'st the Will without the Deed to dye and mak'st me damne the Deed ere it I doe Would I for any indiuine respect sell Heau'n for Earth and God so for the Deuill Thou God dost make that Would worke good effect for when it proues the Ill it shuns the euill Is my Hand stretched out my faith to plight to blacke Perdition twixt my hand and It Thou putst thy hand of Iustice which doth smite away my hand before that knot be knit The Weapons me thou gau'st my selfe to saue I monster did against thy Goodnesse bend And with thy glorious gifts I thee did braue so did I shame my selfe and Thee offend The Tongue thou mouedst that blasphemed Thee thou rul'dst the limbes that did thy Members rend Thou gau'st Wit pow'r with Thee to disagree and gau'st Will force the giuer to offend So that not onely I ingrate haue bin for thy good gifts but haue the same imployd As weapons of vnrighteousnesse in Sinne and so with thine owne Grace haue thee annoid Thou mad'st all Creatures for mine onely vse t' allure me to thy gainfull Loue thereby But I abused thee by their abuse so with thy Good deeds did thee damnifie So that through whom the seeing of thy Face was to be tane through them I could not see For I as Gods did them in Loue embrace which thou had'st giu'n to guide me vnto Thee That I might serue thee me did all things serue I did command that me thou might'st intreat They did me Good when I did ill deserue and when I made thee small they made me great Thou gau'st me Faith and Hell the Fruites hath had thou gau'st me Grace and Sinne hath vs'd the same Thou gau'st me Wit which Will abus'd as mad thou gau'st me Sense wherewith my selfe I shame Thou gau'st me Health which sickely I haue vs'd in riot surfet and in all excesse Thou gau'st me Strength which I haue still abus'd in waging warre with thine owne Mightinesse Thou for my profit plaguedst other men that so from Sinne I might be kept with ease But I vnplagued plagu'd my Brethren so farre off was I from remorse by These These Gifts I most vngratefull gratis had which though abus'd I vsed when I would And being Gifts
be all my Dayes Can I loue Life which Truth doth so dispraise A Ship a Shaft a Shuttle were too slow Or whatsoeuer else doth swiftly glide The flight of Time in this short life to show But It as lesse then Nothing must abide Then ah shall lesse then Nothing make me lose Thee Thing of Things that dost each Thing enclose And what a lesse then Nothing is this Life It 's worse then Nought that 's lesser then That Lâ—sse So fraught with Mischiefe Sorrow Sinne and Strife That It like Hell is Hold of Heauinesse For who so hath most ease and rest therein Are most diseas'd most oft with restlesse Sinne. No foote of Ground Earths dismall face containes That is not ouer-laid with treble Snares A Flies foote rests not on It without Paines Besides Deaths danger and a World of cares I speake but speak with griefe what I haue found On Earth then Earth of griefe is but the Ground For scarce is one Temptation ouer-past But in the Neck thereof another comes Like Circles that Stones cause in Waters cast Which chase each other till the last o'er-comes So and none otherwise Temptations striue Which by the spoile of others best shall thriue Nay so each other to succeede were ease More then temptation vseth to admit But while the first endures like swelling Seas Another riseth worse much worse then It Then in temptations Seas with Waues thus driu'n How hard is it t' attaine the Hau'n of Heau'n The treble Snares fore-mention'd three fell Foes Doe lay for me to catch me if they can The Flesh the Diuell and the World are Those Which three still watch to catch me carelesse Man The least of which hath skill exceeding great Then how should I poore Wren their drifts defeate On this side fights my Flesh the World on that The Diuell at my Backe and all as One Doe me assaile nay doe they care not what So I thereby may quite be ouer-throwne And thus like cunning Foes they compasse mee That I may haue no way away to flee I cannot from my Body flee because It is my Clogge and I am tide thereto Nor must I It vndoe for any cause For so vndone I doe my soule vndoe If I doe feede the same my foe I fat That will assault mee much the more for that Then must I needes my Body beare about Though faine I would forsake It knew I how And yet the same is alwayes running out Yet drawes me with 't as Colts doe draw the Plow It tires my Spirit that toiles to keepe it in From being tir'de in running out to sinne Besides th'iniurious World beleaguers me This that and eu'ry way with maine and might And through the Loope-holes of my Senses Hee With my weake Soule continually doth fight Which still thogh faintly fights to keepe out death And oft poore Soule quite shee is out of breath If at those Loopes the World repulse doth take Hee sets his Slaues to watch me in my way That they may through my slippings me o'er-take And so to wound my Fame with sharp Dispraise Or draw mee els before Authority Where I may know what t' is to slip awry But that 's a fauour done against his will Herein his malice mends me makes me watch My sinfull selfe from running into ill Lest that these Fiends should me in euill catch For Lord thou know'st they watch not for my good But how by mischiefe they may suck my bloud If thee I serue they call me Hypocrite If I doe not then Atheist am I nam'd If I giue Almes t is that beg praise I might So doe I good or euill I am blam'd Then this thrice wayward World by his good will Will haue me to be Nothing good nor ill The Diuell is a Spirit which is vnseene Then how should I auoid his mortall Blowes Whose weapons are as long as strong and keene And sendeth flaming Shafts from fiery Bowes The least of which to death my Soule will wound If thou confound them not ere they confound So then these three strong armed Enimies Me ceaselessely assaile to make me fall The Flesh suggesteth to me Luxuries The World obiecteth Sweetes the Diuell Gall And all as most intire conspire in this To make me ill to liue to die amisse The Flesh importunes me with daintie food With Sleepe Sloth Lust and carnall Liberty The World doth moue me to ambitious moode The Diuell to Malice Ire and Treacherie Thus all in seu'rall sort in one agree To pare my Crowne if not to conquer me Behold ô Lord with whom I liue perforce I dwell with Scorpions Vipers and the like Which kill by Nature without all remorce And with their stings they good and bad doe strike O Lord how long how long deare Lord shall I Endure this Death the Life of misery Atheists and Infidels doe neighbour me Beside these foes and with them still doe ioyne To worke my wracke for they still boring be Betwixt thy Spirit and mine them to vnioyne Among the Tents of Kedars thus I dwell Whose In-mates are as Serpent-wise as fell Example more then Precept makes vs good And is there none that doth good no not one Then ah what can liue with this Vipers Brood That is not brought to nought no not a Stone Then I being Flesh how can I hurt auoide By them by whom eu'n Stones are oft annoid In these sore Conflicts if I should retire Into my selfe I finde me fraught within With fleshly worldly diuellish-damn'd desire The three-fold Bastard of these Foes and Sinne. Who will with them conspire to conquer me Then in my selfe I least secure shall be My Heart 's more moueable then Motion is Vnconstant fugitiue vaine light lewd blinde Wandring each way and yet the way doth misle Yet still holds on that Course by course of kinde Agent and Patient t is in Sinne and Shame That both effects and suffers for the same And as a Mill doth grinde what it receiues Els grindes it selfe if nought be throwne thereon So doth the Heart grinde what the same conceiues Else grindes it selfe till it to nought be gone But it by Nature still conceiueth Sinne Then Sinne by Nature still is ground therein But if thy Grace Lord thou therein infuse It grindes the same like flow'r of finest Wheate To make sweet Bread vnleauened to vse When as the Soule doth grinde thee as her meate And as the heart doth grinde the Soule to feede With good or bad so our liues haps succeede Sometimes it grindes but griefes infus'd by Sinne And oft but Dusty thoughts and Earthy cares Thou when such Griefs it grindes pour'st Ioy therin And me for thee by griefes that Ioy prepares Then may I say when so the Mill doth runne I had beene if I had not beene vndone But for the most part it is euer cloid Like an hard Miâ—l-stone with the softest things As fleshly lusts and vaine Ioyes ouer-ioyde And with that harts-case which most torment brings So that my Heart
it selfe to them made Sugar-sweet Then what but Gall it selfe will Honey seeke besides the Honey of thy sweetest Loue For who are more exalted then the meeke sith Heau'n and Earth of them doe most approue Then if thou make me meeke thou mak'st me more Then Heau'n and Earth for both will me adore For perfect Vnion with God and Grace to shunne all Lets that may hinder it WHen I sweet Sauiour minde the Orison thou mad'st thy Maundy-night with strong effect When as thou praid'st for perfect vnion betweene thy Father thee and thine elect I am thereby encouraged to pray that in that Vnion though too base I be I may b'included if so be I may being so vile so inward be with thee Which can be hardly if at all it can without my Soule forsake the Flesh and Fiend And all besides thee be it Angell Man or what soe'er for Thee her onely END But this shee cannot doe without thy Grace thy grace preuenting and assisting both Then grace her so that she may thee embrace and in respect of thee all others lothe By that deare vnexampled Loue that made thee hang all naked on the Crosse vouchsafe That I may liue with thee as nought I had besides though I the World besides should haue And if it may be Lord ô let me liue without the least Sinne for the least that is Doth let our Vnion and doth euer striue to seuer me for euer from thy Blisse Then grant that I my body so may keepe from all transgrâ—ssing that I may not moue One Ioynt t'vnioyne vs but my Soule to sweepe from all Pollution that doth let thy Loue. That from offending it may be as cleare as it was made by thee in Thee to rest And though she cannot be so perfect here yet make Her still desire the same at least Yea make me will no Ioy for that is none that is not in thee and the Bread I eate Let it no more delight me than a Stone but onely but to serue Thee take my meate And when my Palate proues some Foode too sweet then let me thinke how much more sweet thou art That mad'st it such so make me make it meete to make me taste thy Sweetnesse in my Heart So let me vse all Creatures pleasing Sense to send me to Thee Cause of that Effect So in them still taste but thine Excellence and by them still the more the same affect Yea let no Sweet of whatsoeuer kinde that 's but created once my Soule allure From thee sweet Lord or from continuall minde of thy deare Sweetnesse that all Sweetes procures But Loue and Meeknesse are the onely two to mâ—ke vs one â—eare Sweet that diuers be Then let high'st Loue and lowest Meeknesse too make one of twâ— that 's one of thee and mee And meeke to make me let me euer minde I am nought haue nought know nought nought can do And nought desire nor seâ—ke but Grace to finde to loue thee highly and be lowly too Then make me rich in Soule and poore in spirit rich in good deeds and yet most poore in thought When I doe best to weene I worst doe merâ—â— and when most good to thinke I am most nought So by the By-path that but Fooles doe finde of true Simplicitie that 's iust and free To runne to Thee and leaue the World behinde to thinke me mad for running so to Thee But let me so be still besides my selfe and still besides the Way the World doth roame Though it with Flowers be strowde and pau'd 〈…〉 yet set me flie it in my hying home The Heau'n-rapt Saint was so himselfe beside for hee all eartly Dainties held as Doung And while as mad the most did him deride he went to Thee a narrow way and long Nay thou thy selfe dear Lord that all dost schoole because thou didst elect this Way to goe And that reiect attir'd wast like a Foole and so esteem'd then let me foole it so But hide my life in thee so shall I liue a light to all that walke in wayward moode For them thou hid'st that good example giue from eu'ry Ill then let me giue this good But when I giue it let me thinke I giue the good thou gau'st for all good gifts are thine So shall I rightly thinke while â—o I liue and all the praise thereof to thee resigne So let me doe and thinke so shall I gaine True Vnitie with thee in Ioy and Paine The Sinner in great sorrow for Sinne relyeth on God for grace and comfort ON thy help Lord I relye then poore I Perish must if thou restraine it O then stretch thy helping-hand or command That I may with speede obtaine it For as one forgotten quite out of sight I forlorne in sorrow languish Help ô help me then with speede for I feed As on Bread on nought but Anguish If I sinne I sigh therefore and deplore That I haue in ought offended Yea my Soule doth waste with woe sith I know Sinne doth marre what Thâ—â—s hast mended Faine I would then cease to sinne and beginne Now to liue as thou hast willed But if by Thee that didst fire that desire It be not of me fulfilled I at best but well shall will doing ill Then I shall for it be vexed So shall I but sinne and grieue while I liue And in Conscience be perplexed It is tedious to my Sp'rit day and night Thus to sinne then pine in passion For being staid yet still to fall is no small Signe of death or reprobation Help then help me Lord lest I doubtfull dye Make my sorrowes passe my sinning That I may so cease to sinne so to winne Better end then my beginning For in sinne conceiu'd I was so alas Sinnefull am sith so conceiued Then of force sith I am such doe not grutch I should be to Grace receiued With more griefe my Sinne I wound than I found Pleasure in the sinne committing O then let my sorrowes still sinning kill While thy Graces vs be knitting Blessed God then make me grieue while I liue For my grieuing thee so blessed Let my Teares still quench the fire of thine Ire Till I be of Grace possessed So shall I to shunne thy wrath tread the Path Of thy Biddings till my dying Or on winges of Loues desire still aspire To thee then ô take me flying The Sinner acknowledging repugnant desires in himselfe desireth to be enabled to performe his good desires I Would be thine and I would haue thee mine deare Lord and yet I crosse mine owne desires For still I sinne then cannot I be thine yet faine I would with thee be still entire Then I desire what my desires resist ô strange repugnance would I thee enioy And yet in that which seuers vs persist then my desires doe my desires destroy True Lord how euer false this seemes to be it false but seemes but it 's too true herein For my poore Soule would nothing more then thee and yet my Soule doth
nothing more then sinne Lord help me in this strange extremitie of crosse desires which in my Soule are found My Will is bound to Sinne but would be free then if it would how should my Will be bound Were it my Flesh alone desir'd to sinne my Soule resisting t' were not so amisse Such crosse desires in thy best Saints haue bin but in my Soule my Sinne conceiued is And yet shee 's barraine gauly and impure of emptinesse not emptie and thereby A soulelesse Soule so lifelesse doth endure yet liues in Death because she cannot dye Then empt mine empty Soule for Sinne doth fill with nought but vacuum her capatious thought For Sinne is nothing sith thou mad'st not Ill without whom nought was made then empt this nought For t is that Law though nought that still rebels against both grace and natures Gouernment This lawlesse Law my members still compels to bowe as Sinnes vnrighteous Rule is bent Lord I beleeue yet help mine vnbeliefe and well doe will yet better my desire Cure thou the Wound my Will receiu'd in chiefe through Adams Fall and make our Wils entire Giue me both Will and Pow'r to doe thy Will and let me neither haue to crosse the same For when I see my Will would thine fulfill yet doth it not I pine with griefe and shame I cannot will aright but right resist without thy grace preuent my crooked will And willing well without thy grace assist I cannot for my bloud my will fulfill So thy preuenting and assisting grace makes my Will worke for of my selfe I am So fraile by nature and so beastly base that my best thoghts are more then much too blame Then let thy Grace my wayward Will preuent and helpe me to performe it so preuented Yea make my thoughts and deedes most innocent else let me ioy in nought but them lamented Nay make my Heart deare Lord so apt to waile That it may weepe when I to weepe doe faile The Sinner desireth not to be as he is but as he ought to be TO be all nought is nought at all to be and to be sinfull still is to be nought Yet Sinners ARE though dead in sinne we see as Men ARE though they are not as thy ought Deliuer me deare Lord from being such such being take from me that sinfull is For better nothing be then be so much because so much is more then most amisse Then let me be not as I am but what I ought to Be or take me as I am Take me to Thee and then I will be that I ought to be thine owne in Deed and Name For then I am when I am wholy thine But I am not while I am Sinnes or Mine In respect of the breuitie and vncertaintie of mortall life the Sinner desires grace in time to prepare for Death MY stupid Soule now recollect thy pow'rs weigh in Iudgements Scales thy present state Thou in thy Iaile my Flesh but some few howres hast now to stay by nature neere her date My Pilgrimage is almost past ô then it thee behooues to looke with stedfast eyes Towards thy Countrey Home of Happy-men least ere thou looke in straying pathes thou dye Now faints my force my sense impaires my flesh like wither'd fruit now falleth with each breath Some Birds o'er-aged doe their youth refresh but Man growne Twâ—-childe is at doore of death The Young-man may dye quickely but the Olde can not liue long misse-haps may wracke the one But nought in Arte or Nature long can hold the other here for they are almost gone Then if green yeers should somtimes mind the graue the Gray must still that there are with a breath For Age to Death is but the Gally-slaue that on a moments fluxe whafts life to death To serue the World although I able were small cause haue I to will it sith it is The ground which nought but ranckest Ils doth beare and where men most esteemed are most amisse I long haue cultur'd this but flinty-field which yeelds but Crops of Cares Woes wrongs and spight Yeelding the more annoy the more they yeeld whose very Ioyes are Tares that pine the Spright Then it is time to change by heauenly Arte the thriftlesse course of so course Husbandry And with Remorse to furrow vp my Heart melting the Clods with teares that are too dry And so to sow Loues seedes that faire encrease to fat the Soule in vertue till shee melt In flames of Charitie till Faith doth cease to giue more taste of heauenly pleasures selt And sith my Spring is spent my Summer past and to the Fall of leafe my Tyme arriues Nay sith his frost Time on my Head hath cast I must prepare for cold that life depriues My negligence hath made sinnes Earth my Heart to yeeld but poysonous Weeds of thoughts impure Which doe but bane my Soule and get the start of Vertue in their growth by Customes pow'r Meane while my flesh with heat of youth bloud hath shrunke from cherishing their root yet lo The Marrow of my Bones doth yeeld them foode so thogh I shrink they through that compost grow And as one tost at Sea with Stormes and feares makes little way though much he be turmoild So he in vice that past hath many yeeres hath had long time but life as short as soild For Life is measur'd by the good we doe not dayes we spend sith some by many dayes Get many Deaths as some haue come vnto Eternall Life by short Life spent with praise What is a Soulelesse Body but a Clod and what 's the Soule without her cause and life But quicke to Sinne and dead to Grace and God Hell to it selfe selfe-Hell or Hell of strife He is the Way besides which all are wide the Truth against which all in errour dwell The Life without which all in death abide in whom to be is onely to be well O then deare Lord let me beginne to liue now in my dying though hard late it be Yet better late then neuer to reuiue me dead in sinne by mortifying me It 's hard I grant that after life's neere spent in mortall Sinne immortall life t' expect Yet Lord how euer late let me repent while Aire I breathe and doe it not reiect Yet Loue must cause remorse and hate of Sinne for true contrition which true life dorh giue Is caus'd by Loue sith we so bad haue beene t' a God so good that di'd to make vs liue Then loue my Soule for no ends but thine END By-purposes are purposelesse for ONE That knowes all Hearts Remorse doth but offend that is not for his Loue conceiu'd alone Then to be truely contrite hard it is sith it respects but Loue that Grace allures Whereof in but a scruple if we misse it 's but Attrition which lesse Grace procures O Death how sowre is thy rememberance to him whose Soule is swolne with sweetest Sinne And hath thereof a feeling I perchance haue so in shew but more
doth play One dyes with Sicknesse Thought another kils With Hunger this with Thirst that man doth pine Some Water choakes an Halter others spils Some Fire consumes some Beasts deuoure in fine This man he murders with the ruthlesse Sword That man with Poyson he doth suffocate With Bullet this that with a bitter Word He ends and others end with worser Fate No Flesh though fram'd in height of Natures skill With composition more then halfe diuine But it is subiect made to death vntill Th' Immortall doe that mortall flesh refine Thus all he ends yet none their ends fore-know A secret t' is to Death himselfe vnknowne Whom he must strike thy finger Lord must show Nor dares he shoot til thou the Mark hast showne To some he is thy mercies Minister To other some the Engine of thy wrath This sadnesse to my Soule doth minister For bleeding Conscience many faintings hath But wash the same with thy sweet mercies dewe And it annoint with vnction spirituall Then health and rest and peace shall straight ensue Which to my Conscience will be cordiall I haue discourst to thine all-hearing Eares My dismall plight in dolefull Elegie With Tragick accents accents causing teares Sad teares attending matchlesse misery Thy pitties Eare therefore bowe downe O Lord To these most pensiue and most iust complaints Let mercies Eyes with pitties Eares accord To chear the conscience that with bleeding faints In hope were of my soule shall rest in peace Till thou vouchsafe to send her full release A Confession of a Sinner acknowledging the misery of humane frailtie CElestiall Lord Creator of this ALL Embracer Prop and Ruler of the same Whose vnseene Eye beholds the generall And singly seest at once this double Frame O vaile that Christall-cleere all-seeing eye On vtter-darknesse that Lord that am I. Mine Intellect is darke darke my soules sight My body darke darke dungeon of my soule Is opposite for darknesse to thy light What can be darker or more vgly foule Thus darknesse striuing much more darke to be Hell being too light infus'd it selfe in me O Iustice Sunne with Taper pointed beames Dart through this Darknesse open loopes for light By which the influence of thy lights leames Through my darke soule may be dispersed quight For what is that which extreame darknes cleares But extreame light of lights when it appeares Where extreame darknesse harbours there is Hell In me deare Lord of Heauen that hell is plac't My heart hard hart wherein all horrors dwell With vexing thoughts like Fiends away doth wast My Conscience quite confounded with my misse Is lowest Hell where highest Anguish is Descend sweet Christ and harrow with thy Crosse This hell of Conscience flee my soule from thence It is thine owne deare Lord it is thy losse If it doe perish through my sinnes offence Why sinne is nothing then for thing of nought Lose not my soule poore purchase dearly boght In Deaths dark shade o'er-shadowed with my sinne Vpon the black pit brinck of deepe Despaire I lye deare Lord halfe out but more halfe in Help help ô help Lord heare Lord heare my prayer Now now ô now if euer help me now I sincke I sincke help ere I sincke too low Remember Lord Lord call to minde againe The drops strange drops of Water mixt with Bloud Which from thy paine-prest Body ranne amaine What time on ground it lay in pensiue moode If then thou praid'st that Cup might passe froÌ„ thee I well may pray let this Cup passe from mee A Cup of cares confected by sowre sinne Baning my Soule with bitter operation Let this Cup passe before I doe beginne Least it effect my crazed soules damnation O thou that felt'st fraile mans infirmitie Respect fraile Me else in despaire I die Whose Faith too like a feather in the winde Is tossed with the least temptations blast With doubtings daunted when the faithfull finde A calme in conscience till such stormes are past But I vile wretch am tossed to and fro With eu'ry Storme that rise or Blast that blow See Lord ah see see see how all my Veynes Do pant with paine through sense of my misdeedes Behold my Heart wherein all sorrow raignes Griefe-wounded heart behold it how it bleedes O poure therein thy precious Balmes of grace That from thy wounded Heart doe runne apace Where 's Much forgiu'n Loue must there be much Forgiue me Much much more shall be my loueâ— I haue Much to forgiue no sinner such My Sinne surmounting Loue shall be aboue Forgiue me then and I in Loue will striue To match that more then Much thou dost forgiue Be thou for me vnto the Old of dayes My Daysman so to stay his angers heate That for thy sake he would vouchsafe to raise His vengeance siege which my Soules wrack doth threat O tel him to his Grace I weakling yeeld And giue him praise and glory of the Field O pray him bend his pu'sance on the proud Whose brazen Necks will rather breake then bowe I creeping on my knees doe seeke for shrowde Till Tempests of his fury ouer-blow And like a Spaniell at his Maisters threat In humble wise fall prostrate at his feete With eyes vp-lifted slowly by degrees And lifted so are throwne downe straight againe With face confounded on his humbled knees Inuoking mercy yet doth mute remaine O so euen so doe I poore wretched I At foote but of his Foote-stoole crowching lye If this may moue and mouing may prouoke Thy sans-beginning Sire in Loue to stay Of his iust vengeance the resistlesse stroke A touch whereof doth Rockes to poâ—der bray I will ascribe the praise ô Christ to thee Sith for thy sake alone he spareth me My strength 's not stony nor my flesh yet brasse O no then weaknesse much more weake it is Apt still to fall more brittle farre then glasse Compos'd of that that 's more then most amisse O how vnable then am I to beare His heauy vengeance stroke that rocks doth teare With hands of Mercie stay my sincking Soule Which were in mercy mercilesly wounded For me vile wretch and for my trespasse foule That Grace might o'er abound where Sin abounded They are not shortned since they racked were For Sinne that Sinne might sinnelesse so appeare With those same hands deare Lord my Soule sustain Opprest with Poâ—se that made thy man-hood grone My load 's as great though farre lesse be my paine Whose sinne 's as great as all the worlds alone Then Worlds of Sin when on my backe I beare What meruell is 't I faint if not despaire Froth of Infirmitie and Weaknesse skumme I am no other how then should I beare The heauy sentence of true Iustice doome If to this Load of Sinne it added were None but a God and Man can beare that waight Sith God Man bow'd vnder-neath that fraight I am farre spent ô be not farre from me I panting labour neere the latest gaspe My Soule dismai'd not knowing where to flee With hands of Hope wan
me still from all misse-fortunes and from so daine Death Which in this World that dangers ouer-fill is more then Fortune can to Man bequeath How many haue I seene the Warres to weare might haue seen hāg'd drown'd staru'd burnt torne How many poyson'd spill themselues with feare with Pox Plagues Pestilence how many worne The thousands blinde deafe dumbe lame leperous besides the Millions otherwise distrest In Minde and Body with griefes dolorous make me to see how much my State is blest For that which fell to any one of these might me befall be'ing euill as they be And that I haue more soundnesse ioy and ease it is to winne my loue thy loue to me If any mortall King should for one crime many condemne and saue but one or two And I of those condemnd should be the prime yet first of those two saued should be too How would my Heart be rauish'd with his Loue and how would all my Pow'rs striue him to serue Then no lesse Grace thy grace doth make me proue nay more much more thou dost my loue deserue For double thou deseru'st in treble kinde thou sau'dst my Soule and body doom'd to Death And from all franticke passions keep'st my Minde therefore I owe thee Minde Soule Body Breath For t is thy Grace we be not all consum'd but most of all my selfe that most doth sinne Sith on that Grace I haue to sinne presum'd yet still by grace seek'st me from sinne to win A Body thou hast giu'n me that doth lacke all that thou giu'st me to continue life And lest through want thereof It should to wrack with me those gifts are no lesse rich then rife All things thou mad'st for me and me for Thee for me Ground Graine Trees Fruit Mines Mettall bear Aire Fowle Seas Fish Fish Fowle for me produce most glorious Pearle and Plumes to weare For me Seas Ships Ships Sailes Sailes Winds endure to bring me Benefis from forraine Lands For me Flouds flow Wels spring Springs Water pure doe yeeld that I should yeeld to thy commands Sheepe Oxen Kine Goates Buckes and other Beasts yeeld Flesh Fleece Fels Milke Oile Hornes for me For me the Hound doth cry the Spaniell quests to teach me how to cry with hope to Thee The Hornes of Vnicornes that precious be are mine though they do weare them for my sake Plants Vertue haue not for themselues but me so things of eu'ry suite me Prime doe make What would I more there 's nought hath being got on or in Earth in Water or in Aire That eyther feedes or heales or sports me not so that this World doth nought but me repaire If I the Elementall World transcend to view the Heau'nly Orbes what Wonders There Sunne Moone and Stars I see who all attend but for my good for which they framed were For me alone they influence impart to these inferiour Bodies seruing mine For me doth Time himselfe in pieces part that I beyond Time might be wholy thine Nay let me passe the nine-fold Orbes of Heau'n and to thy sacred Mansion let me flee For whom had all thine Angels essence giu'n But for thy seruice and to waite on me To backe me and defend me from my Foes to hold me vp when ere I did decline To comfort me in Soule-afflicting Woes and to thy presence bring my Soule in fine Now if the Ends for which Things formed were be better then the Things for so they be Then better than the Angels Men appeare sith they it seemes for men were made by Thee And Men and Angels fell through onely Pride but for deare Mans Redemption thou didd'st die Yet for no one of th' Angels hast thou di'd which much augments mans hope and dignitie O then what Heart can once but thought-conceiue in what strict Tearmes I stand obleig'd to thee Sith me thou mad'st most Glory to receiue through mee as through the Eye Men glory see Wake wake thy selfe my Soule why sleep'st thou stil see who it is that hath thus done for whom Not for the Angels which obey his Will but for thee sinfull Soule his choisest Home Cast if thou canst a Number numberlesse and count his gifts with Stars or with Sea-sand The bottome gage of his Grace bottomlesse Or if thou canst not wonder-mazed stand Yet stand thou with and for Him while thou art that is as long as he himselfe exists That is while GOD hath but an humane Heart which is but while Eternitie consists As God is GOD he hath no Heart at all but as true Man he is he hath Mans Heart Then GOD and MAN can ne'er asunder fall though Men from GOD themselues too often part But GOD that hast Mans Heart and so hast mine sith I am Man although a sinfull one Still let thy Heart be mine and mine be thine that I may haue no Heart to grieue our owne I greatly doe desire with great desire to praise and loue thee GOD Mans harts repose But Praise and Loue in Mouth and Heart of mire through foulenes of that filth their grace do lose But sith all Creaetures thou hast made for mee for whatsoe'er is made I owe the same I le call on them with me to call on THEE to giue me grace to loue and praise thy Name Then ô yee all his Workes your voyces reare with man his master-piece that He would grant To me his Grace to sound his praises cleare and to supply in Loue my louings want To make my Mouth pure fit to hold his praise and make my Heart cleane meete to lodge his loue That Heart and mouth may so his glory raise while I his Grace in grace or glory proue That I in Grace and Glory may be knowne To liue but for that praise and loue alone A Meditation gratulatory for our redemption WHen I excogitate the great Good-turnes thou hast done for me ô extreamest Good With heate of Zeale my seathing Marrow burnes and flames of seruent Loue doe boile my bloud Especially for that when thou had'st form'd my Soule and body I deforming each Thou with thine own dierewrack hast me reform'd and with thy precious bloud becam'st my Leach Thou mightst for e'er haue banish'd me thy sight with the proud Angel and his cursed Crue For my fault was like his but more vnright then to the same a greater Plague was due And that thou hast not onely spar'd my Paine but therewithall bought endlesse blisse for me So that my Fall doth fall out to my gaine I am in straightest bonds oblieg'd to Thee And for thou mad'st me me to thee I owe sith thou redeem'd me much more owe I thee And would ô would I could my selfe bestovv to pay that More that 's lesse then due from me And so much more thou ought'st to be belou'd by how much greater were thy griefes and state And how much lesse then ought'st to be reprou'd whose life was more then most immaculate Who What and Wherefore dost thou suffer Lord and who
way perforce againe When thou hadst plung'd me in the Font of Grace so clens'd the filth I was conceiued in Though there I vow'd to keepe me in that case I brake my vow and me re-suncke in sinne So that sweet Temple which thou sanctifi'dst in me for thee I cursedly did blesse Raising therein that which thou least abid'st namely the Idoll of Voluptuousnesse Then liu'd I as an Out-law when it seem'd by Law or Fiend or Foe might me surprise But I of thee yet then was so esteem'd that thou by Law didst quit me in this wise The Law requir'd Death or Obedience then thou for me didst more then Law requir'd Which di'dst for sinne yet liu'dst in innocence so thou thereby didst more then It desir'd Yet ere I once did thinke vpon thy Grace I liu'd as loose as if I had beene bound To nothing but to Persons Time and Place that sought my Soule and body to confound So past my Dayes that rather lookt like Night nay rather like the Darke that may be felt Wherein my selfe ne'er came within my sight although I might mine vnsweet life haue smelt Then like blinde Baiard being bold as blinde I ranne as Fancy led me eu'ry where To doe the Deedes of darknesse in their kinde and with me others blinded so did beare Then what was it the Diuell could deuise to clog a Soule with Sinne exceeding Sinne But I to doe it was as quicke as wise the rather sith my Soule did ioy therein Then carnall beautie was the onely Sunne that warm'd me at the heart and lent me light A Light and Heate by which were quite vndone mine Eyes Heart nay Body Soule Spright For all confounded were as they had bin no more themselues but beauties shadowes vaine Attending her in whatsoeuer Sinne as Toyes that had bin stitched to her Traine Then were my Feete as swift as swiftest Roes Mans bloud to shed and so thy Forme deface My friends to wrong and treble wrong my foes to shunne the good and bad men to embrace Then those things onely pleased best my taste that were distastiue to thy sacred Sense And that time onely I esteemed waste that to thy Seruice had most reference Thy Name to my vncircumcized Eare was harsh and fill'd the same with all offence Which I did deadly hate through seruile feare but seru'd thy Foes with treble diligence The World the Flesh and thy Competitor that for my Soule with Thee do aye contend Made me their Slaue and seruil'dst Seruitor so gaue my Minde thy Kindome to the Fiend Thy Word to me seeem'd most ridiculous as full of Crackes as Contradiction And no lesse witlesse then most barberous so made I it a Ground to play vpon The fairest Church then seem'd the fowlest Iaile a Preacher like an Headsman kill'd me quite Words least diuine with me did most preuaile and Peace of Conscience still in me did fight In briefe I was for which my selfe I hate such as on whom VICE show'd what she could do When she did light but on a low estate for what Deedes shee deuis'd my Hand was to In this time of my young yet doating Age thou didst expect me Lord and lent'st me breath Yea didst attend me like that Princes Page that alwayes put his Lord in minde of Death O altitude of Grace surmounting Grace ô magnitude of Mercy most extreame How many settings-out in such a Race haue beene o'er-taken with thy Furies Streame Yet I most blessed-cursed-blessed I haue by the Mercy more then most diuine Beene suffer'd to be tir'd with vanitie and yet preseru'd till brought to Grace in fine Had Iustice hands which then still vrged were drawne me before her High Tribunall Throne And by a Quest of Angels tride me there I had beene cast and more then ouerthrowne But blest be thine vnconquer'd Patience that me forbore till I to sinne forbare And blessed be thy Mercies prepotence by which I warded was and bid beware Forcing into my Soule the feare of Hell the sight of Sinne Lifes vaine and short expence With thy Lawes strictnesse all which still impell my Heart though Steele to melt in penitence Yea when my feet were fast in Follies Stockes thou didst by Grace past Grace extort from me Whole Flouds of Teares from two most flintie Rockes my Heart and Eyes for so offending thee And when I fled from thee as if it had beene matter of small moment Thee to flee Thou follow'dst me I being worse then mad to keepe me from the Furies following mee Thus long we straue and striuing long at length thou didst preuaile and tam'd my Coltish Will Yet t was by holy Fraud and mightie Strength which claw'd me while they did restraine me still For no lesse was thy Mercies skill herein then thy Pow'rs force for sinfull Soules to cure Showes skilfull Grace and Men that most doe sinne to iustifie bewraies almightie Pow'r And ô how many Graces giu'st thou me with this meere guilt of my Vocation Firme Faith sure Hope and perfect Charitie with all the Vertues that attend thereon And though I cannot be assured Lord to serue thee to the end and meeke withall Yet doe my Faith and Hope rest on thy Word which sure doth stand though oft vnsure I fall Thy Sp'rit likewise doth witnesse to my Sp'rit that thou dost loue me more than tenderly Sith in thy Loue thou mak'st my Loue delight which loue erst lothed thy Loue mortally Blessed be thou therefore great Lord of Grace for giuing me thy deare adopting Spirit To nurse and teach and rule me in my Race and thee and me vnioynde to re-vnite And blessed be that euer-blessed DAY wherein that Ghest did make my Soule his Inne And be that Houre and Moment blessed aye wherein my Will gaue way to let him in That Day was the true Sabboth of my rest that Day I left th' Egyptian seruitude That was my second Birth-day truely blest who then was borne to all Beatitude It was mine Easter-day wherein I rose from Death of Sinne vnto the Life of Grace It was the Day my Heau'nly Husband chose to marry me and Coort me face to face Let Iob and Ieremy ban their birth-Day this will I blesse with Heart Mind Mouth Pen Sith then the Angels in their best aray saluted me as their Co-cittizen Wherein God call'd me Son and Christ dear Spouse the Holy-Ghost his Temple and when all The Holy TRINITIE did trimme the House of my poore Soule that teady was to fall Deare Lord with what deare Words or dearer Deedes no dearest Words and Deeds are all too weake To match thy Mercies but my Soule must needs quite breake if not into thy Praises breake I le sing to thee as Dauid once did sing O Lord how glorious are thy Workes of Grace And as the Angels Peales of Praises ring so will I praise thee though my voyce be base The worke of my Creation show'd great Loue and that of my Redemption more exprest Yet that of
my Vocation most did moue but that that Iustifide me past the rest The gift of Glory still to Saints assign'd is great so great that none may greater be Yet to be iustified is in his kinde as great a gift and no lesse laudeth thee To make Men iust that are in sinfull case is more then to make iust Men glorious Sith greater ods there is twixt Sinn and Grace then is twixt Grace and Glory God and Vs. My Making and Redemption had but made m'excuse the lesse and my Damnation more Except my Soule thou hadst made iustly glad in iustifying me that sinned sore Whiles therefore on these things I meditate my Soule entranced lies as if she were No more my Senses or my bodies Mate but were transform'd to Admiration here What shall I render Lord ô how shall I remunerate ô that can ne'er be done Or how shall I but praise thee worthily but such praise doth my pow'r no lesse out-runne O that the Organs of my Soule were such as with thy praise they Heau'n and Earth might fill I would therein reioyce much more then much but Lord accept the freedome of my Will For could it make thee more then what thou art thogh more cannot be wisht much lesse conceiu'd I would performe a right Well-willers part and make thee what it could for Grace receiu'd Then let my Will be aided by thy Might That Will in Deed may praise thy Name aright Of Gods vnutterable Being with desire of the Soule to be swallowed vp with the loue of his Maiestie O Past-beginning and immortall Sp'rit eternall and incomprehensible Incircumscrib'd in Maiestie and Might seene all in All yet most insensible Immutable impassible most iust inscrutable in mercy most compleate From whom they came and vnto whom they must that doe beleeue thou art as good as great Who by thy ne'er-too-much applauded Word hast framed whatsoe'er created is One blessed TRINITIE in true accord of perfect Vnitie and boundlesse blisse If that great Patriarcke Father of the Iust who albeit thou deign'dst to call thy Friend Yet in respect He Ashes was and Dust did feare to speake to Thee that Eare did lend Nay if the highest Orders of those Sprights that in thy presence burne through loue of thee Dare not vpon thine Essence fixe their sights lest they through glory should confounded be If these so pure so deare so holy Ones so fearefull are to speake or looke on thee Who albeit they sit themselues on Thrones yet in thy sight through loue so awfull be How shall a Shorelesse Sea of Misery a Sincke of Sinne a Sacke of filthiest dung All which ah woe therefore deare Lord am I once dare to thee to stirre or Eye or Tongue But sith sweet Lord I can no way obtaine that awfull reu'rence which is due to thee Vnlesse mine Eyes still fixt on thee remaine and made amazed with thy Maiestie Vouchsafe me leaue dread God vouchsafe me leaue to lift mine Eyes vnto thy Throne of Grace O let thy brightnesse mine Eyes splendor giue and blinde them not that long to see thy Face I see dread Lord thou onely thou art Hee that dost transcend our vnderstandings reach And yet by vnderstanding well I see they see thee best to whom thy beames doe stretch Then ô most bright faire wise kinde liberall most stable simple subtile gracious Secret yet knowne vnscene yet seeing All vnmou'd yet mouing in rest making vs Whom Latitudes dilate nor Bounds restraine Varietie doth change nor Passions moue Rest makes not idle nor Worke puts to paine who art not hurt by Hate nor holp by Loue. From whom Obliuion nothing can detract to whom Remembrance can as little adde Who art Dilated most yet most Compact not grieu'd in Sorrow nor in Solace glad To whom there 's nothing past much lesse to come sith Time and Place still present be with thee Of all this All thou art the totall Summe beyond which nothing is much lesse can be For th' art in all things yet art not included but yet in all things art thou by sufficing Thou art without all yet art not excluded but without all things thou art by comprising Th' art vnder All yet subiect vnto none but vnder All that All might rest on thee And farre aboue All yet not proud thereon but All aboue that All might gouern'd be Perfect in All in none deficient Great without bounds Good without compare Present in each Place yet in no Place pent yet whole in All and parts in All that are In Pow'r and Wisedome most-most infinite in Counsaile wonderfull in Iudgement iust Secret in thoughts in word and Promise right glorious in Deedes which glorifie our Dust Past all extent thy Loue doth farre extend whose Mercie 's more then most indefinite Thy Patience more than Pow'r can comprehend because it is no lesse then is thy Might What shall I say great-good good-great-great Lord I feare in these my Words I doe offend To seeme to circumscribe thee in a Word that art without all measure meane or end Thou art ô sacred Sp'rits Angelicall that haue fruition of Him face to face Lend me a Name by which I Him may call and may expresse some measure of his Grace Thou art too great for GREATNES ne'er so GREAT and far too good for GOODNES e'er so GOOD Who were it possible art more compleate in GOODNESSE then thine owne Trin-vnion-hood Yet thou thou nameles Good who thogh thus great dost bid vs seeke thee for who seeketh findes Who though not to be seene vpon thy Seate yet sitt'st thou seene in Eyes of humble Mindes Thou thou art He whom to forsake is death and for whom life to leaue is life alone In whom to breathe is to breathe blessed Breath and for whom to contend is Vnion No man fosakes thee but the forlorne Foole and no one seekes thee but whom thou dost seeke Nor none can find thee but whom thou dost schoole thou school'st none but whom thy Lessons like What should I say of thee or how shall I thy Goodnesse praise how shall I celebrate The glory of thy back parts Maiestie though ne'er so much thou it extenuate I le say as those whom thou taugh'st what to say thou measurest the Waters with thine Hand Vpon thy Palme thou dost the Heau'ns weigh and on thy Finger all the Earth doth stand Thou art that Ancient ancienter then Dayes whose Throne is like a bright ay-burning Flame The Wheeles wherof like Fire that Sparks doth raise vpon whose Thigh is writ a glorious Name Thy Body like a beaming Chrisolite thy Face like Lightning thine Eyes Lampes of Fire Thine Armes Feete like Brasse all burnisht bright thy Voyce like Thunder but It soundeth high'r A fiery Streame still floweth from thy Throne a thousand thousand minister to thee Ten thousand thousand waite on thee alone and Millions by the Thousands ready be Who with a Beck nay lesse but with a Thought rul'st Heau'n and Earth according to thy Will
Friends and Ghostly Guides how many good Examples Lights of life What like Bookes hast thou sent me these besides as Loue-signes whilst thou woo'dst me for thy Wife All which to thee I freely doe referre that they from thee more freely may reflow For sith thou didst all these on me conferre ere I was thine now all Thine I doe owe. But to recount the Perils I haue past thou being present pointing out the way Is more then well Arithmetick can cast which doe thy mercies numberlesse bewray And into what more than prodigious Crimes I might haue fall'n hadst thou not me vpheld Yea hadst thou not preuented me be times appeares by those that haue in sinne excell'd For neuer did the Diuell sinne so much but that a fraile Man may commit as great If with thy grace his Heart thou doe not touch and with thy Pow'r the pow'r of Sinne defeate As many Meanes then as I had to sinne and fit Occasions as I had to fall So many might my Sinnes and Fals haue bin if I by thee had had no help at all Occasions are so violent in Pow'r that they could Giant-foyling Dauid fall For they once tooke him vp into his Tow'r from whence he fell in part and after all Occasion is a Ianus which doth looke to Vice and Vertue most indifferently But by Sinnes watching him he oft is tooke and made the meane of much Impietie Hee 's fain'd to stand vpon an vpright Bowle to show his course is most indifferent Except he meetes with rubs which make him roule out of the way which way those Rubs are bent But ô how often hast thou with strong hand â—ane him out of my way lest I should fall By reason he in my way right did stand for oft I stumble at Occasion small How oft hast Thou the FOES hand manacled because he should not fight or if he should I should be Victor and not vanquished and so get Grace sith tride I held my Hold How often haue I march'd vpon my Foes the Adder Viper and the Cocatrice And neuer was once stung or hurt by those thou had'st so charm'd the malice of their vice How oft hast thou walk'd hand in hand with me through Fire and Water all vntoucht of eyther Nay so their Pow'rs were tempered by thee that they wrought for my comfort altogether And how oft haue they quite consumed bin who for not worshipping their senslesse Sawes Haue in Afflictions Furnace kept me in the whiles I sang for ioy in Sorrowes Iawes That with the Psalmist I may iustly say I was sore thrust at that I so might fall But thou o'er-threw'st my thrusters with my stay as Bals quite breake throwne hard against a wall How oft haue my Sinnes sold me to thy wrath how often haue I fall'n yet neuer fell For in thy Mercy which no measure hath though I did passing ill I haue done well Though I gaue that to Nature due to Grace and to my selfe that which belong'd to Thee Who might'st haue grac'd Thee then with my disgrace yet gau'st thou grace not shame eu'n then to me And though the Angels fell for lesse offence and that proud Babel-Monarch for the same Yet I as one of more preheminence escap'd vnskarr'd in Body Goods and Name I Perils lou'd yet perisht not therein by many by-wayes I found out the right With Grace familiar was I made by Sinne so foild I Sinne by Sinne and not by fight Was euer Loue so wonne was euer Man so woo'd by GOD or can my Soule conceiue How much thy Mercies may that so much can or can I thee of Loue deare Loue deceiue O rather of my Being quite bereaue me and turne me to my pristrinâ— Nihil-hood Then I should so of but meere Loue deceiue thee that mak'st mine Euils doe me so much good Burne me kinde LOVE to Nothing that of nought thou mai'st in Loue make some-thing good for thee Of nought thou mad'st me good mine Ill I wrought then now of nought good make me euer be Perfect great Master-builder of mine All thy Worke begunne and let my Nothing be Apt to be-come in Forme materiall and be conform'd to matter lou'd of Thee Breathe on this CHAOS Lord and let thy Spirit walke on the Waters of my Humors vaine My Darknesse palpable couert to Light so my Confusion shall in Order raigne O'er Sinne and Death and darke-darke Ignorance in datelesse Tearmes of all Eternities The value of thy Vertue to aduance which of thy selfe aboue all Heights doth rise This is my Hope which is because thou ART Iust in thy Word and Deede in All and Part For Power and Grace to withstand the Flesh the World and the Diuell WHen I looke vp and see the Heau'nly Spheares roule on my Time and my Lifes Line therin Thus say I to my Soule Vaine Soule thy yeares are nothing sith thou nothing dost but sinne Yet art thou made eternall like thy Sire and all conceiu'st like him beneath the Sunne Th' art in my Whole and Parts like him intire and hast like him right Reason Ill to shunne And yet ô yet thou dost but Ill withall so all that good thou turn'st to Euill still Who through Infirmitie to Sinne dost fall when thou stand'st highest in grace of Pow'rs good-will Then Lord of Pow'r and Grace with both so arme my falling Soule that she thereby may stand Against th' Assaults of all that would her harme for she can foile but with thy Forces Band. Great Lord of Hostes Iehouah God of Pow'r then leaue me not alone among my Foes But strengthen me from thy Strengths trusty Tow'r that I by Thee may euer vanquish those The Flesh the World the Diuell with their Bands of strong as fraudfull Foes me still assaile While all my Pow'r lyes onely in thy Hands which when I hold I foile with-held I faile If then thou wouldst I still should Victor be giue me those helps that in thy hand still lye Flesh fights not with it selfe but thou in me canst foile it quite and make it Mercy cry The World doth loue it selfe and so her Owne too well t'endamage eyther and doth charge Too strongly on me to be ouerthrowne by my small pow'r if thou it not enlarge And Sathan in himselfe is not diuided though in himselfe still turbulent he be He is too crafty strong and well-prouided for me t' encounter if thou help not me Then ô estsoones againe and still againe I thine assistance humbly doe inuoke That so I may still vanquish so still raigne o'er these our Foes that euer vs prouoke So will I yeeld the glory vnto Thee That foilst such strength by Weaknesse that 's by me The Sinner confessing his sinne striueth with God by importunitie of Prayer for Grace GReat God! from whoÌ„ no thought can be concea'ld sith it thou know'st ere thoght searched hast All Hearts ere they in Nature are reueal'd forgiue my thoughts that giue thee but distaste To my Confusion needes I must confesse
Wonders of thy Law they cannot finde Thy Will then shewne and hidden in thy Word is hid though shewne from those not prompt by thee Though Camels there may swim and Gnats may ford yet both may drowne if there too bold they be In shallow'st places there great Clarkes haue suncke into the depth of Heresie and drew Whole Nations after them yea made Kings drunke therewith while they Beleeuers-right pursue So then as none could euer see the Sunne but by the Sunne so none can rightly see Thee in thy Word but by reflexion of that pure Light of Lights that comes from thee If so then light me in that Light thy Word sith thou art Light of lights else may mine Eyes Be daz'led and so drowne me in each Ford of those pure Riuers of thy Paradise Thy Word is Truth but those it doth misguide that know not well thy Language nor will know Sith they will learne but of them selues and Pride so not thy Word but they are erring so None can be sau'd without they doe thy Will which none can doe vnlesse the same they know And none can know it much lesse it fulfill if it by speciall grace thou doe not show Then if thou wilt that I shall saued be for thou wilt no mans Death that seekes thy face Let me be taught to know thy Will by thee and made to doe it by thy Pow'r and Grace So shall I finde what I am seeking still To know Thee well and well to doe thy Will An Inuocation against vse of offending or bad Custome DEare Lord while I bethinke me of the Ils that me surround and waigh the Woes I feele Through mine owne fault which me with Sorrow fils from Life to Death I ready am to reele The Sunne of my Care-clouded life hath past his full Meridian and doth now decline To Seas of griefes where Age doth sincke at last and at each breath Death seekes it to define Vse of offending in my passed Dayes doth passe my strēgth to change thogh faine I wold Custome to Nature turn'd my Nature swayes and of my selfe the while I haue no hold Yet if I dye ere so bad vse I leaue my life must leaue me hopelesse at my death For what I giue to GOD I shall receiue and as I spend so shall I yeeld my Breath I minde to mend but still procrastinate for my Familiar Sinne is loth to part And doth my halfe-dead body animate to vse her still so wounds and heales my Heart But sith I am not sure to breath once more and that my life and death are well-neere met And Death t'eternall Weale or woe 's the Doore why sinne I now my lifes Sunne neere is set What is in Sinne that it should so be witch A bitter-sweete if Sweete it be and makes The Body glad but still the Soule to grutch and eu'n from life the vitall-vertue takes The wisest yet that euer breath'd this Aire of Humane Race well tride it to be so Whose equall Wealth and Wisedome did repaire to all in Nature but this Sweete to know And yet he found the Sow'r excell'd the Sweet the Sweet but short the Sow'r surmounting Time Wee want his Meanes his high Delights to meete yet hazard we our soules to them to climbe Lord make me wise by his experience who in great wealth and Wisedome plaid the Foole And for meere Folly was at huge expence then let his follies me still wisely schoole Yea let me learne of Him that all doth teach of whom the wisest learne Sinnes snares to shunne He was a King and Preacher and did preach that All is vanitie beneath the Sunne If all be vaine beneath and true he sayes let me aboue the Sunne seeke true delight Which I shall finde by walking in thy Wayes so thou deare Lord consort me with thy Spright O then consort me so and with his pow'r enable me all lets to ouer-runne Let me not stay one Minute of an How'r to ioy in any thing beneath the Sunne But in thy Sunne of Iustice let me ioy which fils the Heau'ns and Earth with purest light Then let all other ioyes my soule annoy that so in him I may alone delight Thou canst doe this then doubt I not thy Will Which still is good then my good-will fulfill The Sinner refers his Will to Gods will in all things desiring helpe for perseuerance therein DEare Lord and God true Louer of my Soule in my desires I wholy doe resigne vnto thy blessed Will this Will of mine To forme reforme direct and still controule And as my Soule my body moues alone without whose motion it would still be still so let thy Sp'rit still moue my soule and will Else let them haue no motion of their owne Let me forsake my selfe for thy deare sake yea truely hate my selfe for loue of thee and let no pleasures please or profit me If thou deare Lord at them displeasure take I offer vnto thee mine All and more had I much more than All to mortifie my senses and affections that thereby I may so mortifide liue euermore My selfe I likewise offer to the lack of sensible deuotion grace and loue so it may humble me and make me proue Thy might the more in my sinnes vtter wracke I offer too my selfe with prompt desire t' indure all losse in name fame goods and friends all pleasure paine and what else flesh offends That by their waight my sp'rit may mount the higher In summe I offer vp my selfe aboue my selfe to all mischance that can befall saue sinne alone yet if thy goodnesse shall Put me in Hell I le brooke it for thy Loue. And though it be impossible for Flesh to suffer it yet should my Will be prest If thou would'st haue it so in Hell to rest For Loue in quenchlesse flames can sense refresh Then loue me Lord and still my loue enflame then put me where thou wilt I le there abide without repining ire or ghostly pride With Martyrs that in torments laud thy Name But sith by reason of my Flesh too fraile I cannot be so prompt these paines to brooke then help me Lord but with a louing looke And ouer Death and Hell I shall preuaile Looke kindly on me then deare Lord and so Our Wils shall still be one in weale and woe The Sinner desires fruition of the Deitie and that his Soule should be euer the habitation thereof ETernall LORD who art more prompt to heare then Faith to pray of that great grace of thine Regard the Boone I aske in Loue and Feare and to mine humble suite thine eares incline Grant me fruition of thy DEITIE that all my Soule may so be satisfied For lesse then that can her not satisfie though all els boundlesse were still amplifide Those gifts and graces that thy Grace may moue t' inhabit my poore Soule vouchsafe thou me That with thy gifts thy grace may be in Loue and loue my Soule for harbring them and thee But in those gifts
great Then Feare perswades me I seeke grace in vaine yet Grace makes hope some Fauour to intreat I haue neglected to fore-see the woes that follow sinne and now would grace for-goe I oft haue taken mortall ouerthrowes yet scarse haue felt a mortall ouerthrow I haue encreast my scars that feared not to adde still sinne to sinne and graue to light Fresh Wounds haue opened those before I got to make the Cure most hard or curelesse quite And what the Baâ—mes of Grace had clos'd before I through the itch of sinne haue opened wide Which through corruption now are growne so sore that scarse I can so sore a Cure abide The Skinne which growing ouer hid my Wounds through breaking out of the corruption gape For sinne the grace once granted quite confounds so that I feare I hardly can escape For if the righteous man shall perish in his sinne committed how much more then shall Repentant sinners turning eft to sinne the thought whereof more grieues me then my fall The newly dead Christ quickly rais'd to life but he must groane in spirit weepe cry and pray Yer Lazarus be rais'd for mortall strife Death made with life to leaue so long a Prey So it is in Regeneration for the lesse the Soule 's defil'd with sinnes delight And the more she the least sinne doth abhorre the lesse winde of Gods Sp'rit reuiues that sp'rit What shall I doe I can but sinne deare Lord if so thou canst but plague yea plague with Death Sith still I sinne then in thought deed and word cut off my sinne or els abridge my breath For Breath it is that kindles sinne in me with blowing at the coales of damn'd desires These through my banefull breath still raging be and quite consume the grace that me inspires Then if I did not breathe I should not sinne yet should I loose my breath e'er sinne bewaile I by that losse should but damnation winne then let me rue my faults yer Breath doth faile But if thou wilt that I should longer liue Let me no longer sinne or longer grieue A desire of the louing Soule of God to be kissed with the kisse of Peace KIsse me ô kisse me with Loues honyed Kisse ô dearest Loue and sweet'st-Heart of my Soule Whose loue is like pure Wine that cordiall is doth sowre cares with Comforts sweet controle Thy Name is like to sweet suffused Balme which makes chast Soules eu'n sick for loue of thee Whose Passions striuing in a blessed calme on Sorrowes Seas to thee still rowling be Draw me deare Loue then after thee I le runne vpon the sent of thy diuine Perfumes My Loue 's impatient since it first begunne of this delay which quite my Soule consumes Then ô delay no more to marry mee But wed my Soule that pines for loue of Thee Sith all Gods Creatures are against those that are against GOD in action the Sinner desireth to be in vnitie with him AS when a Master hath most mortall Foes his Seruants and men made by him will be Most persecuting Enemies to those till with their Lord and Master they agree So all thy Creatures Lord doe rise in Armes against great Sinners if impenitent To plague them with all kinde of killing harmes till they be ruin'd quite or made repent But being one with Thee our Enemies shall seeke our Fauour and themselues submit For when they see our Succour's in the Skies they will adore vs and acknowledge it Then make me Lord my foes straight put to flight By being one with Thee for whom they fight The Sinner desireth to haue the bent of his Will made appliable to Gods THe Way to Heau'n that truest Port of Peace is straite and straight vntill at Hell we be Where on the right hand then we turne with ease for when we passe that Point then well are wee But being straite but few that Way doe wend and being straight the crooked misse it still Then to this Port but few their course doe bend sith most are crooked euer bent to Ill. Then make vs straight deare Lord with handling straite or bring vs to thy bent with other Art Wee know thine vpright Compasse hath the sleight to bow vs to the bending of thy Heart That we may shoote and still may winners proue The Shafts of our Indeauours at thy Loue. The Sinner inueighes against his fleshes frailtie desiring God to strengthen it with his pow'r and Grace VIle Flesh why dost thou so my Spirit impugne That still the Sonne of Righteousnesse I wrong who di'd to make you liue No Moment breathe I but I breathe out Sinne That ends with shame where Sorrow doth beginne which makes me glad to grieue In thee fraile Flesh I feele my bloud to boyle With heate of such desires as make the Soile but Sinne in graine to beare My Spirits that in that Bloud doe swim with paine Yet floate they sith false pleasures them sustaine are neere the wracke I feare I feare the Rocke of refuge to the Iust For how in Truth should Treason put her trust Then truthlesse Traitor I May iustly feare that Grace in Iustice will My gracelesse Soule for Fleshes Treasons spill which makes me liuing dye I liuing dye not as one mortifide To sinne wherein as dead aliue I bide The more my griefe and blame I faine would dye to liue but Flesh doth draw My Life to Death sith I obserue the Law of Sinne which is my shame O thou whom Iacob wrastled with a space Strengthen my Faith to wrastle with thy Grace that it may set me goe Although it lame my Loynes and crack my Thighes Wherein strong Sinne still domineering lyes into thy Weale through Woe The Sinner recounting his manifold transgressions and finding himselfe thereby in danger of perdition desireth Grace through a world of sorrowes to auoid both Sinne and damnation MY Soule still faint in doing well and strong in working ill now now thy selfe retire From outward Cares or else amidst their throng poure out thy Sorrowes to thy heau'nly Sire Thy scatter'd thoughts in Fancies lewd as light gather together and with all thy Pow'rs Vnited shew thy sinne and cursed plight sith meeke Confession grace for sinne procures Weighing my deeds I finde too light they be yet more then I can beare nay me they quell So am farre lighter if thou ballance me and yet my lightnesse weighes me downe to Hell Shame shall not let me though it boile my Bloud t' vnfold the foule diseases of my Soule To him that can and will so doe me good and make her Angell-faire though ougly-foule My Time then to my shame I must confesse vnto my Soules Physitian grace to winne Hath all in sinne beene spent yet ne'erthelesse too short I thought it for my shortest sinne If I at any time did seeming-good t' was but corrupt or counterfaite at least And so t' was but well done in likelihood being but a sinne well-coulored at best My deeds with ill haue then depraued bin
that should make me loue thee more I made the wrest to rend my loue from thee So both with mine and others gifts did gore the Giuers heart erst split for loue of me And if I made as seldome so I did a Cou'nant with mine Eye that it should gaze No more on Beauty yet the more forbid the more thereby it glanc'd on Beauties Blaze Alas how brutish haue I bin the while that like a Beast haue swayed beene by sense And made my Reason obey Affections vile repugnant to mine owne Intelligence O life dead life depriu'd of life of grace how stirr'st thou so without that vitall pow'r Thou art too proud and yet too beastly base at highest height but like a fading Flowre O Lord of life a death it is to mee to minde my life so drown'd in deadly sinne Which though it Be and moue and liue in Thee yet as without thee it hath cursâ—d bin For I haue made no scruple to offend but with such boldnesse haue I sinn'd as it Had beene a meane but to a blessed end so seem'd to sinne with Will enforc'd by Wit Nay should I bring my best deeds to thy Test they 'le proue but drosse of mâ—eâ—e Hyâ—ocrisie Or Vice in Vertues habit at the best which is too bad for basâ—st Pietie With Iacobs voyce and Esaus hands I held my Soule to sinne and good opinion too The wicked so the World at will doe weild which faine I would but that I cannot doe The World 's t'vnweildy for my feeble gripe it still fals from me sith I cannot hold And at each fall thou giu'st me Lord a stripe sith though I cannot weild it yet I would Yea would much rather then my wilde affects or ought that holy men doe take in hand For my best doings my iust doubt suspects sith they in doubt of doing ill doe stand How tedious Time hath seem'd when I haue praid how wearisome the practise tir'd how soone How much distracted and how well apaid when it was done though done ere well begunne So was I like but one of Pilates Slaues that croucht to thee ô Christ but to offend So my best actions are but holy braues that haue more shew then strength to foile the Feend Haue I done good to any if I haue t' was but of debt and though it were but lent I prizde it more and bragd of what I gaue so all my good was done with ill intent Haue I discours'd of things that heauenly were In curious Questions lightly it was done As where Heau'n stands and Hell it locall where not how to come to Heau'n and Hell to shunne I haue beene prompt to learne what Wisedome would abhorre to teach and I haue Eares and Eyes To heare and see but what she scornes t' vnfold for I attend to nothing that is wise What shall I say that haue so much to say for endlesle plaint holds endlesse Sinne in chase My first was filth my progresse Sinne my stay is double death without Gods treble grace O Sinne the Soules death and of Death the life I would not shunne thee when at first I might And now I cannot without endlesse strife then help me Grace with strong sinne still to fight My Soule is tir'd with vanitie and Sinne I loath to liue and yet I feare to dye Then wretch what should I doe but now beginne to dye to liue sith liuing-death is nye But ah alas could I weepe endlesly it were but meete mine endlesse sinnes to cleare But though I should lament them ceaselesly in longest mortall life too short it were Yet will I not dispaire no God forbid seau'n times a day the iustest men doe fall And though from men the fall and bruise be hid yet thou dost see them both who seest All. At all houres no man's wise for sober Noah may be oe'er-come with Wine stout Abraham too Through terror lye Meeke Moses may destroy th' Egyptian in his ire and so misdo Religious Ioseph irreligiously sweare by the life of Pharaoh faith to binde Gods Darling Dauid hide Adultery with murther of his Seruant true as kinde Wise Salomon the veriest Foole became when Pharos Daughter and his Pagan wiues Through grosse Idolatrie made him defame Gods truth so Blots the clear'st haue in their liues Saints so are call'd as eu'ry thing is nam'd of whatsoe'er therein most worthy is As Golden-mines are stiled so though fram'd more full of Drosse then Golden rarities And so the best men though inherent Vice may ouer-weigh their Vertue yet we see Th' are called vertuous by their Vertues price that doth out-price the Vice though more it be Then giue me courage Lord t' aduance my Hope to thy great mercy that doth equall thee And let All couerd with the Heau'nly Cope for thy deare Loue be but as Doung to mee Vaine pleasures packe Preferments-vaine auaunt that would but make me quite forget to dye My Soule ye Syrens doe no more enchaunt for if you doe I le breake your strongest Tye. And all my ioy shall now but be in griefe griefe for the Ioy which I conceiu'd in sinne So nought but dying shall be my reliefe for life well lost immortall life doth winne Lord giue me strength to offer violence to wicked Custome till I breake it quite And still to striue with Nature Sinne and Sense vntill they striue no more in Peace nor fight And for my Sinnes come all annoyâ—s on me in royall-armies till you blow me vp Aboue the â—unne and all dispights that be fall freâ—ly on me from my Sauiours Cup. Scorne me proud World still looke on me ascance deride me Diuell plague me doe thy worst Nay Lord from me conceale thy Countenance so thou in fine wilt blesse me so accurst And for I haue despis'd thee Lord of All let all that Is despise me till I dye Nay let disgrace with death vpon me fall so I may rise to grace and life thereby O thou my cursed Nature swolne with Pride swell not against contempt though ne'er so vile Take all and more if more can be beside contempt of all and ioy therein the while For being nothing of my selfe but Sinne or else besides that But I Nothing am How can or sinne or Nothing Glory winne but through a World of woe contempt and shame Skill will and pow'r then giue me Lord to breake this head-strong Iade my Flesh and make it glad To beare a World of woe to make it meeke and but for falling vnder it be sad I am thy Workâ— then worke thy Will in mee And make my Carriage Lord from fallingâ—ree â—ree That the vertuous haue the Promises of this life as well as of that to come THy Friends deare Lord are too much honored thy Persecutor to thee reconcil'd Had Sacrifices to him tendered so much the World is forc'd t' adore thy Childe The People freely their possessions sell to lay the Price at thine Apâ—stles feete To whom the worst of Ils doe fall out well and Gall
the slip to all that breathe yet in so stealing he Takes all things with him like a fraughted Shippe that he doth hold when he doth fearelesse flee Vpon the World he steales and with him brings a world of yeeres wherewith the World doth weare As Men can witnesse and all earthly Things for now they be but moates to what they were Those she produc'd when she was in her youth were Ceders to these shrubs for she was then In her full vigour and gaue greater growth to all she bare for Giants were her Men. None otherwise then as a Wife in yeeres beares none so goodly Children as in youth No more this World now ouer-aged beares such as in youth she did for Grace nor growth She Giants brought in youth but now she ages she beares but Pigmies men that scarse appeare Too little to be Pages to their Pages that first she bare which shewes her end is neere And so say all that strictly doe obserue Diuine and Humane Writings and the State Of all things past and present which doe serue for signes and demonstrations of her date Within sixe dayes God made the Vniuerse a thousand yeeres with whom is but a day Then it is thought such sixe dayes shall reuerse his sixe dayes Worke that moues but so to stay But for th' Elect the foot of this Account shall be cut off then now the end appeares For all the passed yeeres doe neere amount to those sixe dayes that make so many yeeres The Worlds Parts are decaid as doth appeare Etna Parnassus and Olympus too Are not so eminent as erst they were and all that 's done seemes quite now to vndoe Now swels the Sea where erst faire Cities stood so where Men walkt now huge Sea-monsters swim And where the Earth was couer'd with her Floud now Citties stand vnneere the Oceans Brim Hils suncke Flouds dride the Planets lose their force and Plants their vertue yea the totall Frame Of Nature's out of frame the Sunne in 's course is out of course with age suncke in the same For since the dayes of Ptolomey it 's found many degrees more nigh the Earth he stoupes So like an aged Drunkard runneth round till flat he fall for more and more he droupes The Articke and th' Antarticke Poles shall wracke the Climes they couer and the Hoast of Heau'n Shall ioyne their Forces to breake Natures Backe and all confuse to which was Order giu'n Th' Astrologers will haue it end when all the Starres possesse their first place in their Spheares Which Platos yeere they stile the Hebrew Caball will haue it but endure sixe thousand yeeres Whereto agree Elias Oracles and many a sacred Saints of times more lateâ— Which Seers saw them through the Spectacles of Heau'n-holpe Ghesses cleare as most elate The World shall last say they two thousand yeeres without the Law two thousand yeeres within Two thousand vnder Grace and then appeares the God of Grace to cleare the World of Sinne. Then thou that sleep'st my drowsie Soule awake pray and be sober watch the end is neere Sinnes fruit full ripe the Kirnels ne'er so black and Iustice Sunne beginnes eu'n hot t' appeare That there shall be a Iudgement generall the most beleeue heau'ns Oracles affirme Diuines auerre the Sybils too and all the ancient Poets constantly confirme Then shall the Creatures showt the Angels call the Trumpets sound and all Men dead arise Then shall the God of IVSTICE sentence all yea be they Pow'rs or Principalities This Sentence shall be strict and shall condemne the Ill to Hell where Paine it selfe exceedes For when it meanest is it 's most extreame and where the Worme that gnawes the Conscience breedes And all for euer Euer that is it that makes All most intollerable for It Sense confounds with griefe distracts the Wit and which selfe Patience cannot but abhorre Which to the Atheist seemes impossible that Bodyes so infirme so soone destroid Should euer brooke such Paines immensible and not consume yea vtterly made voide Whereto if it be said th' Almighty will at last raise bodyes from defect so cleare That cleared so they shall continue still and all Hels wasting woes vnworne shall beare Yea Soules though incorporeall shall the while of true materiall Fire be pained still How ere it makes our Humane Reason reele yet he can doo 't that can doe what he will For they shall deeme they in their Bodies be and feele all Torments comprehensible For Soules then Bodies better fâ—ele and see sith by them onely Flesh is sensible As when we dreame without our Bodies we deeme vs within sith Sense vs not forsakes Nay without Eares and Eyes we heare and see more liuely farre then when our Sense awakes So doe the damn'd suppose they in their Flesh doe suffer that but suffer in their Sp'rit Sith Sense in them so liâ—ely is and fresh in entertaining Dolor or Delight Which in the Fount of Truth doth cleare appeare for Diues had a Tongue that was enflam'd As he suppos'd though but his Soule it were but Atheists will not know this till th' are damn'd For they except against Diuinitie Religion Faith and onely doe appeale To Reason Sense and fraile Humanitie which ne'erthelesse this veiled Truth reueale For proofe whereof the Salamander lyes and liues in fire which he desires to touch Yea most is ioy de when most therein he fries for hee 's most cold and cooles the fire as much The Adamant yea Gold it selfe if pure endures all force of fire and ne'er doth waste Shall Stones and Mettals then the Fire endure and shall mans flesh refinde in Fire not last A Peacockes flesh though dead corrupteth neuer try it who list and shall it still remaine And Mans flesh made by Death to last for euer not last it shall though it still liue in paine Lime in it selfe hath fire yet weares it not and when it 's kill'd it 's quickned then shall we Say Flesh reuiu'd must waste if still too hot when Death as from his death from it doth flee By Water that doth coole all other Heates the Lime is fir'd but poure some Oyle thereon Though Oyle feedes fire it neyther burnes nor sweates but rests as cold as any other Stone If then the nature of quicke Lime be such as Fire to hold and yet not dye with it Why should not flesh immortall doe as much when it 's enabled by Pow'r infinite Some Salt in Sicily cast in the fire straight melts to Water and in Water throwne Crackes like Fire ô who can then aspire to know the Cause that yet was neuer knowne Th' Arcadian Asbest being once enflam'd will ne'er be quencht but lasts an endlesse flame Then why not those that endlesly are damn'd being made immortall to endure the same And in Epyrus is a Fount wherein a Torch may lighted be and quenched too If these things are and more more strange haue bin why should we thinke but God can stranger doe Before Mans fall he could not
dye for Death came by his Fall Then cannot that high Pow'r That fashion'd him of nought and gaue him Breath make him re-made eternally endure The Wonders which he workes continually are not admir'd sith they familiar be For Admiration's dull'd by frequencie else should we wonder at what still we see The Face of mankinde wer 't not vniforme men could not be from beasts discern'd and showne And yet had All in all respects one Forme One from another hardly could be knowne Thus Likenesse with great Difference rests we see in one selfe Thing which for such common are We ne'er admire them but we muse when we see but two Faces like for that is rare And at the Load-stone we doe wonder lesse that naile by naile doth many nailes vphold By touching but the first yet sith it is so common we admire not as we should I might be endlesse in recounting such most strange Effects whereof no Cause is knowne Then were it madnesse not to grant as much Pow'r to th' Almightie and to Natures Crowne No he hath said It by whose onely WORD all is that is and All hath made of nought Whose Power is Infinite which can accord Repugnancies themselues but with a Thought For there is nothing that doth argue Pow'r but he can doe it what he cannot doe Is fraile inglorious base and most impure else can he doe it and vndoe it too If Gods Prerogatiue were crusht so close that he no more then Man had pow'r t' effect How were he God nay God himselfe he showes in that his Workes farre passe our Intellect Then let 's beleeue Omnipotence can speake no Word it cannot doe how e'er to vs It seemes impossible for we are weake and weakly iudge of hard things to discusse But let vs rest on that ne'er-failing WORD nay so put vp our Rest that eu'n our Soules Yea all our All may thereby be assur'd in so faire Hazard that no Chance controules For should we rest but on those restlesse Stayes that Reason betraid by sense erects we shall But rest on that 's betrayed and betrayes so in right sense and Reason needes must fall But say there were no rising after Death by vertuous life what doe or can we lose But spend our Time in gaining longer breath for Vertue Lifes foes Passions doth repose And if there were no Hell to punish sinne yet we in Reason should not sinne sith it Is so obsceane and thereby nought we winne but selfe-condemning of our Will and Wit But we that doe beleeue we eft shall rise haue great aduantage of the rest for we Haue what they haue though fewer vanities and by our faith in case farre better be For if there be another Life than this wherein all weale or woe we must sustaine Then by Good workes and Faith we shall haue blisse but faithlesse men all labour for their paine For impious Atheists take more paines for Hell tiring themselues with ioyes that vexe their Sp'rits Then pious men still praying in their Cell doe take for Heau'n for That the Sp'rit delights Deare Lord then so dispose my Wit and Will that I may rest vpon thy Word which makes Me blest and worke in rest thereafter still with more delight then Sense in pleasure takes In sacred Raptures take my Soule to thee and her embrace with kisse of endlesse Peace That being so familiar still with mee I at thy Doome may hopefull be through these That though the horror of that day be such as may all Sense confound with feare past feare Yet may I hope though yet I feare too much thou wilt not damne him whō thou heldst so dear Meane while so binde my Sense with vertues bands that it may neuer moue but as she shall Loose or restraine it or thy sacred Hands all whose restraints are free from paine or fall And let that Trump as with a Saint it did still in the Organ of my hearing sound That shall to Iudgement call both quicke and dead that so Ieuer may be ready found For yet I doe but doate on false Delights Delights alas that stile they ill sustaine Though false be added for they vexe the Sp'rits of all that taste them so they are but paine Vncharme the Charmes then of these grieuous ioyes that still allure my sense of them to taste And let my pleasure be in all annoyes for thy deare Loue vntill I breath my last For were I here to liue as many a yeere as yeeres haue moments in extreame annoy Yet it vnworthy of Heau'ns glory were sith it is infinite in time and ioy But now by Nature though it should extend my life beyond my life I cannot last Longer then one that 's making now his end for my best part of life long since is past My best said I ô sname if so it were I should dispaire or if I did not so I should be franticke with distracting feare that my best time in madnesse did bestow But Thou that of the worst canst make the best make this my worst time best my later Age Make better then my first for I detest to thinke on That so fond so full of rage Let me relapse no more in word nor deede Relaspses more doe vexe me then my sinne And yet my sinnes still make my Conscience bleede but my Relapses ranckle still therein Relaps in sicknesse fleshes death doth threat Relaps in Heresie the death of Sp'rit In Error it makes falshood hugely great and so in sinne it makes it infinite In Grace sweet Sauiour there is neuer stay a Progresse or a Regresse still there is But from a Regresse let me euer stray although thereby I goe about to blisse What bootes it me to day to fight with sinnes if I to morrow follow Sathans Flagge It is th'vnwearied fighter glory winnes the weary but base Baggage and the Bagge Then let the dreadfull day of mine Accounts be so annext vnto my Heart and Braine As if they were one Essence and the founts of teares mine Eyes still farre out-flow the Maine And fixe mine Eyes still on my Mother Earth to minde from whence I came and where I must Or else on Heau'n from whence my Soule had birth but looke on no meane Things for them to lust Although such Continence be not without their outward spight that Vertue inly Hate For when we first to liue well goe about w' are crost and recrost by the Reprobate As thy deare Seruant walking on the Maine vpon thy bidding fainted when he saw A sodaine Gust make rough th Oceans Plaine inuokt thy help neare sincking through that Flaw So in this World a Sea of woes and spight thou bidst vs come to thee but as wee hie Huge Stormes of troubles threat to sinke vs quite then helpe we craue with feare at point to dye Yet Constant Lord let me no more relapse no more no more once more would kill me quite Rather then so let thy fierce Thunder-claps dash me to dust so thou receiue my
well as wasts And that strong Rime their ruine farre out-lasts My Muse shall labour on this ground of Fame To raise a Pile of Rime whereon thy Name Shall euer shine through Wits Celestiall Plashes Vntill another Phoenix of the Ashes Produced be that when it eft shall burne In those eternall flames it eft may turne To pristine plight and by such alteration Liue Phoenix-like still bright in admiration 3 We waile their want whose Liues our wants supplide Not weighing how they liu'd but when they dide For the best liuers here doe liuing dye But after death they liue immortally Children and Fooles are angry still with those That to distill disleaue the fairest Rose Not pond'ring how the sweetnesse in the Iuyce Is so increast and longer lasts for vse So we that see this Rose whose hue and breath Celestiall were diuided so by Death Though it for heau'nly purposes be done Yet still our thoughts but on the spoile doe runne But ô be 't farre from vs to thinke thee spoil'd In liuing blest and dying so vnsoil'd No we thy Memory will celebrate Whose weale we waile not but reioyce thereat If in this Paper Monument there be One Ornament of Arte that 's worthy thee Or any Worke of Wit that may retaine Thy Memory my Labour for my Paine Is too great Meede sith by the same I show Times future what will better them to know So shall I in thy Praise include mine owne And making thee so knowne still still be knowne For if this Shrine chance to be visited By any that regard the worthy dead It may be they will thinke me worthy Loue That on this Pile did all my cunning proue Th' Egyptians with their Pirameds did striue Against the Heau'ns to keepe such dead aliue And Artemisia with a matchlesse Tombe Makes her Mausolus liue vntill the doome Though It be now demolished and gone Yet is he knowne by It as It was knowne And Wit but with meere Words hath often rais'd A Monument of Praise farre longer prais'd Then may this Worke which but weake words erect Vpon so sure a Ground worke like effect The Name of Egerton she doth renowne And that by which she last of all was known Nay had she had by Fortune all the Names That Wit for Natures vilest Creatures frames Sh 'had so much Grace consorting still her Bloud As to haue made them all as great as good The Dayes of old did lay their Macchabes Vnder Worlds-wonders huge Piramides Semiramis in her bright Polymite And Cyrus in his Obelisk as bright In his Columna they Augustus shut And in his Mole-magno Hadrian put Alaricus the Gothe that ruinde Rome In his rich Rubico they did entombe Those dead yet liu'd by these and these againe Liue yet by those though nought of them remaine But were I able I my Saint would shrine Within the mouthes of Angels most diuine Sith they out-last all Worlds that Time doth end And haue of creatures best mouthes to commend But liue sweet Saint in mine immortall Rime Made by thy vertue such past Tombes and Time For if eternall Vertue cannot dye Then thou must liue till She doth ruin'd lye Farewell deare Maide whose body like a soule Had pow'r t' inflame the Loue it did controule Farewell while we by thy deare losse fare ill That is while griefes doe grow the Heart to fill For she that held all Hearts by her deserts To her entire her Death must breake all Hearts Ye Ladyes that aliue doe inly loue So much o'er-weening that doth mortall proue Looke not ascue nor turne the Head aside As if you could no Praise but yours abide At these iust Praises Relickes of the Dead But learne by them to be so honoured Enuy doth leaue the Enui'd at the Graue That Fort from Enuy should the Vertuous saue Then ô exalt these Lauds vnlesse you will Be rather pittied then enuide still Poets I grant haue libertie to giue More height to Grace then the Superlatiue So hath a Painter licence too to paint A Saint-like face till it the Saint out saint But Truth which now mine Art to shaddow striues Makes licence larger by the grace she giues But yet To say thou wast the Forme that is the soule Of all this All I should thee misenroule In Booke of Life which on the Earth they keepe That of Arts fountaines haue carowsed deepe Nay so I should displease and wrong thee both For vniust praise thou canst not chose but lothe That lothed'st it here then there more past compare For hee 's the Soule of All by whom they are But I may say and none the same gainsayes Thou art the soule of this thy World of Praise Whose soule did animate thy small-world too To be the soule of all that here I doe Oft haue I seene thee nay I see thee yet Whose face and manners I shall ne'er forget When as thine eares had heard or eyes had seene Ought that to Vertue had offensiue beene Thy face and brest with that faire blush o'erflow Which Modestie not Bashfulnesse doth owe. In these bold Times it 's held a Tricke too fresh Of vnbred Indians so to paint the flesh For any cause but this is but th' effect Of Impudence the Times soules chiefe affect No Parts i◠laudable at Court requir'd But they attir'd thee in thy state retir'd Yet thou so modestly didst act them still As that the light'st seem'd graue against their will What shall I say in thee was nought so small That was not greatly prais'd and lou'd of All This shewes thy Mother true vnto thy Sire Whose worths in loue set all the World on fire Thou his true Daughter likewise dost the same While thou goest through Obliuion by the flame The Soule a two-fold action hath that is Originall and Instrumentall this By Nature doth the like produce but that Meere Intellectual doth not generate Though Nature yet could not so high aspire Thou in thy spirit wast like thine honor'd Sire By speciall grace of Heau'n for in your Birth Such Planets met as deckt and ioyde the Earth But ô too soone the earth quite lost that Ioy And in that losse found infinite Annoy Such is the staylesse state of Things below That doe but vanish while they seeme to grow Beneath the Moone all is but like the Moone Constant in nothing but in changing soone And so will be while they remaine beneath Resting from changing onely but in Death As when the Whirle-windes in their wheeling play Pursue their Turnes till in their Center they Returne into themselues so Nature goes On in her Course which first from forme arose Vntill this World of forme be dispossest And Nature in the Chaos takes her rest That Time runs round by this dark Riddle 's bright A Father hath twelue sonnes halfe blacke halfe white And eu'ry sonne hath thirty which still liue And when their sires decease they them reuiue So sire and sous still die but die in vaine For still the thirty
well And while I liue I le be the leading-Bell That shall thy lowdest Peales of prayses ring Which in the Clouds shall ne'er leaue ecchoing Or be the Trumpet of thy Fame to fill Th' Aetheriall Lofts with Straines more lofty still That when Times wings his Funerall flame consumes Thy Fame shall soare with faire vnsinged Plumes An Epitaph on the death of the right vertuous Lady Liegh sole Daughter of the same right Honourable Lord Elesmere Lord Chancellor of England which Lady deceased the third day of Aprill Anno Dom. 1612. HEre dead shee lies who while aliue she was was Graces Inne Wits Home and Vertues Rest Whose WORTH was of true Worthinesse a Masse yet well proportion'd for her humble Brest A Wise and Mother as it 's hard to say whose losse was great'st her childrens or her phoares To eyther wisely kinde to each a stay that made one loue the other loue and feare To her all-honour'd Sire she was as deare as she was vertuous which was as the bloud In his Hearts Center which to him is neare yet dearer held his flesh in one so good Who dide as liue she did in grace and peace more laden with good-deeds then idle-dayes Leauing her worth for worthinesse increase for Wiues vnborne to imitate and praise Who had at once two Husbands yet she liu'd of Wisely truth a constant Paragon One Husband heauenly was who hath depriu'd the Earthly of her for himselfe alone Yet yer he had her bought her with his Bloud But with her bought a World of Womanhood Then maugre Time Death these Lines tho weake May leade all Times all good of her to speake Here Muse now close the Paper-tombes of these Two vertuous Soules and Bodyes Aunt and Neece with this A good Name is better then a good Ointment and the day of death then the day that one is borne Eccles. 7.3 The Picture of an happy Man HOw blest is he though euer crost that can all Crosses Blessings make That findes himselfe ere he be lost and lose that found for Vertues sake Yea blest is he in life and death that feares not Death nor loues this Life That sets his Will his Wit beneath and hath continuall peace in strife That striueth but with fraile-Desire desiring nothing that is ill That rules his Soule by Reasons Squire and workes by Wisedomes Compasse still That nought obserues but what preserues his minde and body from offence That neyther Courts nor Seasons serues and learnes without experience That hath a Name as free from blot as Vertues Brow or as his life Is from the least suspect or spot although he liues without a Wife That doth in spight of all debate possesse his Soule in Patience And pray in loue for all that hate and hate but what doth giue Offence Whose Soule is like a Sea too still that rests though mou'd yet mou'd at least With loue and hate of good and ill to whaft the Minde the more to Rest. That singly doth and doubles not but is the same he seemes and is Still simply so and yet no Sot but yet not knowing ought amisse That neuer Sinne concealed keepes but shewes the same to God or moe Then euer for it sighes and weepes and ioyes in Soule for grieuing so That by himselfe doth others mete and of himselfe still meekely deemes That neuer sate in Scorners Seate but as himselfe the worst esteemes That loues his body for his Soule Soule for his Minde his Minde for God God for himselfe and doth controule CONTENT if It with him be odde That to his Soule his Sense subdues his Soule to Reas'n and Reas'n to Faith That Vice in Vertues shape eschewes and both by Wisedome rightly waigt'h That rests in action acting nought but what is good in deed and shew That seekes but God within his thought and thinkes but God to loue and know That all vnseene sees All like Him and makes good vse of what he sees That notes the tracts and trickes of Time and flees with th' one the other flees That liues too low for Enuies lookes and yet too high for loth'd Contempt Who makes his Friends Good-men and Bookes and nought without them doth attempt That liues as dying liuing yet in death for life he hath in hope As far from State as sinne and debt of happie life the meanes and scope That feares no frownes nor cares for fawnes of Fortunes fauorits or foes That neither checkes with Kings nor Pawnes and yet still winnes what Checkers lose That euer liues a light to All though oft obscured like the Sunne And though his Fortunes be but small yet Fortune doth not seeke nor shunne That neuer lookes but grace to finde nor seekes for knowledge to be knowne That makes a Kingdome of his Minde wherein with God he raignes alone This Man is great with little state Lord of the World Epitomiz'd Who with staid Front out-faceth Fate and being emptie is suffic'd Or is suffic'd with little sith at least He makes his Conscience a continuall Feast This Life is but Death THogh Fire by warmth cheers life great heat brings death though good Aire life detaines bad life defines Though Water stayes our thirst it stops our breath though fruitfull Earth doth feede the barren pines Too-much o'er-fils too-little feebles life Wealth wants not Cares Want wants all but Cares Solenesse brings sadnesse Company but strife and sodaine Ioyes doe kill as well as feares Meane mirth is rationall extreame is mad no good so good but here it 's mixt with ill Nay too much goodnesse is exceeding bad yea bad if blinde it be is true Good-will And saue the High'st our highest gaine is losse Then life 's but death where al things are so crosse True Wealth THat Grace that neyther wonders grieues nor ioyes at Fortunes vtmost seeking but to finde What Bounty still in action best imployes nor wailes the want that beggers not the Minde That neyther grieuing sighes nor ioying sings that shines most glorious in most gloomy dayes Pleas'd with the state her owne endeuour brings that droupes not with defame nor swels with praise That scornes Disdaine disdaining nought but vice and Greatnesse rates by Goodnesse doing nought But good for ill and that for auarice of goodnesse onely by her onely sought That Time and Wealth well spent doth not deplore This is that Wealth without which Wealth is poore An Angel-like Man HE which prouokt endures as borne to beare and lookes alike in greatest weale and woe That so loues good that ill he nought doth feare and ebbes in Minde when Fortunes most doe slow That bounds Desire with lesse than he enioyes for onely nothing's lesse then Nature needes That holds all Vertues deare all else but toyes and meekely scowres Prides rust from his bright deeds That 's better than hee seemes yet seemes the best but without scandall seekes to seeme the worst That quell'd with Crosses thinkes him highly blest and for the Blisse of all would dye accurst In
summe that would doe all that All should do For loue of All this Man 's an Angell too A sicke Mindes Potion for all in Tribulation in Body or for the sauing of their Soule THou that dost ioy or grieue beneath the waight of his deare Crosse who dide on 't for thy sake View and reuiew these Lines with more delight then Patients doe the Potions which they take How ere they sense displease they wholesome be so wholesome as they often whole doe make So may this Potion worke the like in thee My Muse desires to make it griefe expell And all shee seekes is but to take it well Yet this I doe as oft the sicke doe talke of Health not for they haue but would haue it So I exhort to Patience though I balke her Way and onely wish the same to hit Yet as a sicke Physitian soone may finde a Potion for anothers Passion fit So may a sicke Minde cure a sicker Minde No Mind more sicke then mine yet well I know What 's good for Mindes so ill and that I show The Soule that sins vnplagu'd wilde quickly growes as Trees vnprun'd and but sowre fruit produce The heau'nly Planter then no cost bestowes but it abandons as vnfit for vse Why weep'st thou then sad soule what thou endur'st a blessing is no beating for abuse Or if it be sith it thy selfe procur'st Thy patient bearing this thy Sourge or Crosse Doth make it score lesse nay thy Score doth crosse Regard not then thine anguish in the Rod but in thy Fathers Will what place thou hast If thou wilt share the pleasures of thy God then of his Cup thou must with pleasure taste The Oxe assign'd for slaughter well is fed and lies at ease while others labour fast And still are yokt tyr'd prickt and punished Not all that stroke are friends nor foes that strike but strokes that maime from eyther we mislike The Wounds a friend doth giue are sweeter farre than suger'dst Kisses of a fraudfull foe The first oft make the last more often marre for Surgions Bands doe pinch to solder so Who bindes the Mad or wakes the Lethargicke how ere he seemes thereby t' awake their woe Yet he to both's a friendly Empericke Seueritie is Mercy oftentimes And Mildnesse cruell that increaseth Crimes To weane vs from this World an vnkinde Nurse God onely good and wise annoints her Teates With Gall of troubles spights and what is worse and as a Mother well her Childe entreates But makes her Seruants vse it ill that so finding of all saue her but blowes and threates It may to her the much more willing goe So God permits that All should vs molest That we may flye to Him and loue him best The flatt'rings of the World the Flesh the Fiend are but the kisses of worst Enemies And though the Fiend to Heau'n seemes to ascend like Ioues owne Bird that nestles in the Skies Yet is he but a greedy Bird that towres to Heau'n while on the Earth he nearely pryes To watch his Prey whereon forthwith he poures For he but seemes in Vertue to excell And flyes to Heau'n to beare his Prey to Hell Out of close-Prison and much closer Chaines many doe trauell but their Iourneyes end An endlesse Kingdome is whose greatest Paines are endlesse Ioyes these sincke but to ascend Vnlike the Fiend that mounts to fall more low and ruine that on which he doth descend But low these stoupe to shunne an Ouer-throw To beare high Sailes in Tempests is to haue Our Keele turn'd vp with eu'ry Gust and Waue If Crosses heauie be ô yet at least they make the Soule as sober as discreet If we be fellowes of our Lords vnrest we shall be of his rest and comforts sweete He wounds but hâ—s are wounds but of a Friend that in no fortune once from vs will fleete And lanceth but â—o cure and make vs mend Iâ— is a Payne that 's free from all annoy To die with torment still to liue in ioy He that had seene iust Ioseph in his Chaynes in Sackcloth Mordocheus his Iybâ—t nie Susanna going to her mortall Paines would haue bewail'd their infortunitie But had he knowne that Ioseph should be rid from Giues to Rule â—nd Mardochs ieopardy Conclude in Honor as Sasannaes did He would haue though them blest in great mishap sith so great Comfort was the after-clap So much the Fiend shall tempt when thou dost doat as shall enforce â—hy minde to minde her mâ—sse If Christ we serue Affliction is our Coaâ—e his Crosse our Badge to make vs knowne for his His nakednesse how we should cloath vs shewes his Gall how we should feed on Agonies B'his hanging on the Crosse how to repose And by his Death wherein all paines were riâ—e How to esteeme the pleasures of this life Worlds weale's our woe and yet we will not see 't young Toby walkt securely in the Mire But at the Riuer when he washt his Feete a Fish was like to swallow him entire He that on paine of life must watch the Foe wakes best when he is neer'st Afflictions fire But on the Bed of ease he doth not so In this Worlds hell if ease be good for ought It 's Poësie yet too much makes it nought Besides the better minde the worse is tempted Pirats to charge the emptie Ship forbeare But richly laden and from feare exempted they charge it home and giue it cause of feare Euen so the Fiend while we are void of Grace le ts not our Voyage but our Helme doth steare But when we take in truest Goods apace With Stormes of troubles then he seekes to reaue Vs of our fraight and o'er Bourd vs to heaue Of Ioseph Beniamin was loued best in his Sacke therefore Iosephs Cup was found So doth the Cup Christ dranke of euer rest with those to whom his loue doth still abound On Beds of Roses lyes Lasciuiousnesse which Vertue hates sith she corrupts the sound But Vertue liues too oft in all distresse For she respects not Fortune nor disdaines To lie with those that often lye in Chaines When God had praised Iob the Fiend straight praid that he might proue him with Affliction And when the heau'nly Voyce of Christ had said This is my deare and wel-beloued Sonne He in the Desert was soone after tride They finde most Lets that most aright doe runne And they left Rubs that most doe runne aside But straight to runne dispight each spightfull Let Doth Glory gaine while Shame the rest doe get When holy Dauid did his People count a great Mortalitie his Coasts did scowre But when Augustus did this Sinne surmount taxing the World by his vsurped Pow'r He ne'er was with least Punishment annoid So Ionas fly'ing a Whale did him deuoure While Pagan-Passengers a Calme enioy'd But though the Whale did Ionas so enioy He swallow'd but to saue and not destroy And as a Scarre a Sonne takes in the Face in his Sires quarrell though the Face it marres Yet it
procures the Fathers loue and grace and so gets glory by such gracelesse scarres So God desirous more to haue vs kinde than comely Children thrusts vs in his Warres As we were but to fire and sword assign'd He takes more pleasure in the great'st annoyes We haue for him then in our ghostly ioyes Each Danger for our Mistresse vnder-tane seemes most secure and pleasant deadli'st paine The Wounds both for from her though but bane seeme honied-sweet and losse for her is gaine The colours that she likes we most doe loue her words meere Oracles her spot no staine Her actions Patternes ours to shape and proue All her perfections past Superlatiues And imperfections least Diminutiues And shall we doe and thinke all this and more but for a shade of Beautie and endure Nothing for Beauties Substance nor adore the CREATOR but in the Creäture O! t is a shame that Reas'n should be so mad in men of minde for loue if it be true Will most affect what 's rarest to be had The Obiect of true Loue is greatest GOOD If lesse she loues it ill is vnderstood With our Soules Eye if Christ our peace be view'd true loue shall see a Soule-afflicting sight His head with bloud that thornes do broach imbrude his Eares with Blasphemies his Eyes with Spight His Mouth with gall his Members all with wounds his Heart with griefe and all in all vnright Yea so vnright as Iustice quite confounds Yet mans Ingratitude doth griue him more Then all these Plagues as manifold as sore And ô for whom doth he the same endure for Man begot in filth in darkenesse form'd With throwes brought forth brought forth most vnpure whose child-hood's but a dreame with pains enorm'd His youth but rage his man-hood ceaselesse fight his Age meere sicknesse all his life vnsure And worst of all his death is full of fright This this is he for whom Heau'ns God endures All shame and paine that paine and shame procures W' are no where safe where we may fall to sinne in Heau'n nor Paradise with men much lesse In Heau'n fell Angels Paradise within the first man fell throgh whom all men transgresse In the World Iudas from his Lord did fall so no place can defend from Wretchednesse But he that place confines and holds vp All For who from worse to better fals he may From better fall to worse without his stay If Crosses trauerse not our Comforts then we ought to crosse our selues as many did That were Men Angel-like or Gods with men who hardly liu'd in Dens and Deserts hid Fed little and slept lesse in Sacke-cloth clad to minde them that to mourne they here were bid So chose foâ—d place and suite as suites the sad To sing in Babilon being Abrahams Seede Is to forget our Bondage and our Creede Heau'n is our natiue Home our Canaan Earth's but the shade of Death or vale of Teares Then mirth in place of moaue but kils a man at point of Death hee 's mad that Musicke neares Therefore those Saints discreete sad â—obâ—r Soules reiected all that Sense to Life endeâ—râ—s And liue as buried quicke in â—aues likâ— Moâ—es Iâ— Weapons lâ—sâ—e doe wâ—und thâ—n sâ—arpeâ—t praise Lesâ—e huâ—ts lamenting then the Syrens â—ayes And as Men longing at Noone-day to see the Lamps of Heau'n descend into a Well As deepe as darke that so their sight may be the more contracted smallest Stars to tell So pious mâ—n that faine would fixe their Eyes still on the Stars the Saints in Heauen that dwell Descend in Earth to low'st Obscurities For to a louing Soule all labour 's sweet That tends although in Hell her Loue to meet Low is our Way but our Home most sublime if home we wouâ—d thâ—n this low Way is best Which yet growes steepe â—omewhere and hard to climbe yet Loue o'ercomes it eternall Rest Vaine pleasures are like Gold throwne in our Way and while to gather it we stoupe at least It let 's vs and our Iudgements doth betray But if on Heau'n our mindes be altogether Nothing shall let our Bodyes going thither Which way goe you saith Christ to those that stray I am the WAY and whither will you wend I am the TRVTH or else where will you stay I am the LIFE that is your Iournyes end Now if this Way doe lead o'er steepes and plaines If this Truth teach vs rising to descend If this Life be not got but with our paines Then wo to them that laugh sith weepe should al And blessed they that weepe for laugh they shall We should be therefore like th' Egytian Dogs that drinke of Nilus running lest they should By staying much to drinke like greedy Hogs the Crocodile might haue them so in hold Nature doth teach them reas'nlesse what to doe then shall not grace worke much more manifold With humane Creatures that diuine are too It should then we are mad or reason lacke to quench our thirst of hauing with our wracke What is 't to haue much more than Nature needes but to haue more then Nature well can beare Like one that 's deadly drunke or ouer-feedes whose excesse makes his Death excessiue cheare Enough then should be better then a feast sith more is mortall howsoeuer deare For Nature cannot well so much digest Much lesse then little onely makes her grutch Enough maintaines her better than too much Besides in vs Sinne is more odious growne then in the Diuell for his was but one sinne Ours numberlesse his yer Reuenge was knowne ours when we knew it and might fauor winne In Innocence created sinned he but we when to 't we had restored bin In malice he of God forsooke but we when GOD recall'd vs to his sauing Grace He damn'd we sau'd yet were in worser Case For we were sau'd in possibilitie but he condemn'd so could not saued be He sinn'd gainst one that him did straitly tye but we worse fâ—ends gainst one that made vs free Against one he that doom'd him second-death but we gainst one that dide for vs so he Sinn'd lesse than we which Hope quite banisheth Did not the time we liue in stirre vs thrals To call for Grace that comes if griefe but cals He that of Sinne doth know the large extent and Hell of Hels the Soule incurres thereby Shall little feele his Bodyes punishment though he in life a thousand dâ—athes should dye Which borne with Patience for his Sauiours loue quite abrogate his pass'd impietie And future sinnes and paines from him doth shoue Immortall paines extreame in qualitie Annihilate all mortals quantitie Our Faith in the beginning thinne was sowne in the afflicti'on shame and death of Christ And then with Martyrs Bloud t' was ouer-flowne nor can it grow or prosper to the high'st Without showres ceaslesse gushing from their wounds then what art thou that soone thy Faith deni'st For feare of death that but thy Iudge confounds O! I am he the frail'st of flesh and bloud That liues for ill and
With honied pleasures while he tastes but Gall God shield we should then let vs onely ioy In his sowre-sweetest Crosse and his annoy Moses did see him in the midst of fire and fiery Thornes and in the mount among Lightnings and Thundrings Daniel did aspire to see his Throne which fiery wheeles did throng Then shall we looke for more Prerogatiue than had these friends of God then him we wrong T' expect what he in Iustice cannot giue For we must see him as the others did Else may we seeke him but he will be hid For as the Sires delight to haue their Sonnes resemble them in fauour so it ioyes Our heauenly Sire to see vs wayward Ones like him in patient bearing all Annoyes Which for our good his grace on vs inflicts for when we beaâ—e what beautie quite destroyes The wemmes and wounds of all his sore conflicts In his faire Eyes we are most louely then And foul'st when fair'st but in the Eyes of men We see a Dogge that but with crusts we feede will in our quarrell fight while he can moue And Seruants which we hire for little Meede will ne'erthelesse die often for our loue Then shall we Christians be lesse kinde then Beasts or thankfull lesse than those we hire for neede To him that giues vs all that Faith requests O no no no it were too great a blame The dignitie of Manhood so to shame The Flow'r of Iesse did most sweetly smell and came to perfect growth vpon the Crosse The fruit of life could not be gather'd well without sharpe Thornes that stooke vnto it close And Gall was tasted in a deadly fit by the best Taster who by his lifes losse Wanne Life to all that dye in him and it And till he rose from Death he did not eate The Hony-combe but fed on sower meate The Waters of Affliction are the streames whereat our heau'nly Gedeon still doth try Who are â—it Souldiers for his Warres Extreames and seuâ—rs such as on their Bellies lie To drinke as thirsting that they full may rise from those that for their meeâ—e necessiâ—ie Reach out their Hands to take what doth suffice Great Wealth and Vertue no agreement haue Sith Vertue makes it serue her as a Slaue Though Prisons of themselues be Sathans folds wherein for slaughter his best Sheepe he keepes Yet may the Cause make them the safest Holds yea Heau'ns of Saints for tho the Linnet peepes When shee 's encag'd at eu'ry loope and Chincke as longing to be gone and often weepes That shee 's restrain'd yea leaues her meat drinke Yet in the Cage she is from danger sure Of Fowlers Snares and Kites that would deuoure But those in Patience that their Soules possesse while they in bonds doe Tyrants wrath asswage The sweeter sing the sowrer their distresse like well-taught Lynnets vsed to the Cage There learne they sweeter Notes than Nature gaue when they abroad were in their Pilgrimage New exercise of Vertue there thâ—y haue Where may we sing with Quires of Angels then More free then when most fast from mortal men Then out of Prison goe we when we be put into Prison so the cause be good For Libertie is but Captiuitie that lightly makes more loose fraile flesh bloud Kings Courts yea Heau'n it self must yeeld with awe t' a Prisons glory though defil'd with Mud That keepes Gods Seruants safely for his Law A Princes Presence makes a Cote a Court And that Pris'n's Heau'n where Saints Angels sport The Coriander-seede in pieces cut each piece brings forth as much as all would doe And so a Martyr into Prison put and there first bâ—uiz'd then cut in pieces too No drop of bloud no piece though turn'd to mould but it hath force the Diuell to vndoe And workes more often then the Owner could For if in priuate Iarres effused Gore For vengeance cries his can doe that and more Of all parts of a Tree the Roote seemes worst for it 's deform'd and most offends the sight Yet all trees vertue thence proceedeth first stemme branch leaues flow'rs fruit yea life might The Roote alone may challenge as her owne for by the same they are both borne and nurst Which in the Roote as in the wombe was sowne So some like Rootes be'ing ragged in the Eye Dying for Christ makes Christians multiplie Some Trees there are that if their Rinde be rent cut prickt or braiz'd a precious Balme it bleeds In sight and sauour faire and redolent but neither yeelds till outward it proceedes So Martyrs when their Flesh is gasht or torne out flowes the Balme that cures their own misdeeds And others heales that so to Vertue turne This balme's so sweet that it the World perfumes Whereby the Pagan Christs sweet Name assumes The Roses sweetnesse if vntoucht it be soone with the leaues doth wither quite away But by the Fire when it is still'd we see it yeeld sweet Iuyce that hardly will decay Nay more the Leaues so bak'd into a Cake doe long make sweet both where they lye or lay And all that neighbors them most sweet doe make The leaues so parcht delighting still the Nose Immortall makes the Sweetnesse of the Rose So Martyrs sweetly liue with Brambles keene sith in their conuersation they are pure Yet few can see it sith they liue vnseene but still from worldly Comforts make them sure Bolt them nay bray or burne them if you will then will their vertue sweetly all allure And Heau'n and Earth with diuine sauour fill Had they by Nature dide their leafe nor iuce Had not beene halfe so sweete nor meet for vse Darke is the Water in the Airy Clouds yet that the Rose and Lilly brings to light Mantling the Earth with all that Nature shrowds within her bowels yer the Waters light What are thesâ— Clouds of which the Psalmist sings but Clouds of Witnesses as blacke as bright Graue Martyrs that giue Truth true witnessings Their Bloud the Water and when out it poures The Time lookes blacke but Saints spring with the showres With bloud the Churches Bud came forth at first as earnest of the fruits she was to beare Who was no sooner'spoused vnto Christ but in their bloud her Infants drowned were To shew her future throwes in bearing young your yeers sweet Lambs could not beleeue nor feare But yet your flesh could dye to right Faiths wrong Thus did the Church as soone as shee was wed With chastest bloud forgoe her Virgin-hed Then to our bloud the Gates of Heau'n flye ope and with our bloud Hell-fire's extinguished Our Bodies bloud doth scowre our Soules like Sope and with our bloud our Bodie 's honored The Diuell shamed and God glorifide for when in Truths defence the same is shed It makes our deedes most glorious in it dide The seed of Vertue and the bane of Vice Is bloud so shed No price to'a bloudy PRICE The resurrection of Truth Faith and Fame did flowrish most when soakt in Martyrs Bloud Whose Palms
then giue no Fuell to this Fire 4 Nor make Comparison for it is odious and workes like effect Why should thy Will t' aduance thy Wit anothers Wit or Worth deiect To praise thy selfe is but Dispraise vnlesse Spight wrongs thine Honor knowne If others Shame thy Glory raise let their Shame raise it not thine owne For t is but Shame to glory in anothers Shame because we yet Are free from blot but Praise we winne by hiding both our praise and it This is the way to earthly Peace Without which growes all strifes encrease A Cordiall to cheare the Heart vnder the Crosse of Confinement written to a great Lord once a perpetuall Prisoner WHile yet thou lyest in Afflictions fire more bright to make thee and increase thy worth From mine Inuentions Mud I send this Mire to cast vpon the flames if they breake forth Then deigne t' accept vnhappy-happy Lord this Muddy Stuffe my creeping Muses Meate The rather sith some ease it may afford in plaistring Patience if it scorch with Heate For greatest Spirits doe greatest Passion feele in bearing Crosses though but small they be But vnder great great Men doe weakly reele though greatest Men from weaknesse should be free But thou to thy true glory be it said dost crosse expectance bearing so thy Crosse As those that are by Hands of Angels staid so draw'st much winning out of little losse For Libertie to lose or terrene trash the Minde being free is better lost than found Which oft on Waues of Weale their Owners dash on Rockes vnseene which eyther part confound Now be'ing thus staid thou canst not rise to fall Fortune hath bruiz'd thee but on Safeties Base That now thou canst no longer be her Ball to strike thee in Lifes Hazard for her Chase. Now maist thou sit securely where thou art and see vnseene the Worlds Reuoluings still And how men liue by industry or Art and what euents ensue the greatest skill So sitting bound to Safeties Shore at ease thou maist with ioyfull-Sorrow freely see How other Folke are tost on Dangers Seas as they that beare the highest Sailes still be Now on the top of some proud Billow borne as high as Heau'n while Billow-like they swell Then by a Crosse-Sea is that Billow torne be'ing at the high'st so straight they sincke to Hell And they that haue the Winde and Tyde at will each Moment feare the Winde may turne about And so their good is neuer free from ill because their Hopes are euer bound to doubt But now thy Will familiar with thy Crosse all Stormes of Passions being ouer-blowne Hath euer Calmes that neuer threaten Losse that more then now thou ne'er didst hold thine owne Now Mischiefe cannot see thee though she would looke ne'er so narrowly to glance at thee For thou art hid in Brittaines strongest HOLD where safe thou holdst thy selfe and thy degree And some that Life immurde would haue to chose although as Monarches they might all controule As greatest Charles his Empire did refuse and shut his Body vp t' enlarge his Soule For that great Priest of Hyppo held but right who rather out of Hell his GOD would see Than be in highest Heau'n and misse that sight then Bondage with that Sight 's diuinely free And long I wish great Lord thou maist be so though short I wish thy Troubles and that God That hath perhaps t'vplift thee brought thee low will make a Staffe of that that was thy Rod. The Hearts of all in his all-holding HAND he wields at will and Patience will requite Then thy Commanders Heart he may command in time Sunne-like to fill thy Moone with light Then when thou hast regain'd this Comforts Sunne thou wâ—ll maist say as some haue said of yore Th' hadst beene vndone hadst thou not beene vndone sith then thy Moone shines fuller then before For eu'n as when the Moone is at the full she from the Sunne is most remote we see So in thy Wane perhaps this Sunne may pull thee to him neere to light thy Heart and thee That so it may I le pray and pray that thou maist Grace attract by vertue of thy Grace Meeke Patience can the Heart of Highnesse bowe and make selfe Wrath to shew a chearefull Face For when our liues doe please the Lord of Life hee 'l make our greatest Foes our greatest Friends Then shall our Troubles cut the Throate of Strife and make our peace to make our paines amends Long life is promis'd those that liue aright then maist thou all disfauours ouerliue Patience o'er-comes what nought o'ercomes by might eu'n God himself makes him to forgiue But say the worst should hap which hap's the best that thou shouldst liue and die in state confinde Thy state 's most blessed sith so little blest with Freedome that to Earth enthrals the Minde Yet Libertie thou hast as large and free as highest Vertue Angel-like doth craue For Men like Angels loue with Christ to be in 's bloâ—dy-sweat alone or in his Graue And if that fellowes in Affliction make affliction lesse thou hast thy fellow Peeres In worser plight whom Death did eu'n forsake that they might liue with thee to ease thy Cares A good-mans state scornes Pitie howsoe'er for though it be engulph'd in deep'st distresse Yet his high Vertue him aloft doth reare that no Calamitie can him oppresse And though he be coupt vp in Little-ease his spacious Minde to him a Kingdome is Wherein he wanders Worlds that most doe pleaseâ— for Heau'n and Earth holds that great Mind of his While in his Conscience Theater is plaid the Comedie twixt his Soules Spouse and her How can his Soule but wander all vnstaid through worlds of ioy although he cannot stirre When as a Caesar in all libertie bathing in Pleasures or more sanguine Streames Vpon the Racke of Conscience bound doth dye extreamest Deaths in midst of Sports extreames O didst thou know some poore spirits Rauishments vvhen as entranc'd they feele vnbounded Blisse Crownes thou wouldst lothe as crossing those contents and let the Crosse quite breake thy Backe for this It is not no it is not high estate hath highest Pleasure but it 's onely those That for those Pleasures fading pleasures hate but they in Hell no other Heau'n suppose While outward Comforts compasse vs about in Griefes pursuite we to those Comforts flye But when they breake the King we straight run out to finde more sixed ioyes or ioylesse dye Then is that sowre Affliction highly blest that more Perfection brings like Ligatures That hurt to heale and wring but for our rest so they are blest whom Wals from wracke immures We Pris'ners are within Heau'ns outward Wals and are by Nature all condemn'd to die To Death we must when Death our Heads-man cals some to dye gently some more violently And though our Prison be as wish we would and may perhaps therein goe where we will Yet like the strucken Fish we are in hold and are in hold to him that sure will
yet so much as smiled on me No force sith I my selfe the better know and see the World while me it doth not see Feare they her frowns that care but for her fawnes I feare nor care for neyther being white With Cares and Feares for my Graue open yawnes to swallow me to saue me from her spight Enough great Lord my Proheme is a Feast whereat my Muse doth surfet with sowre-sweetes Hard to receiue and harder to digest where loue and rashnesse Rime and Reason meetes But if they meet with Griefe that meets with thee I grieue with ioy for thou art fast and free A Dumpe or Swans-song ALl in a gloomy shade of Sicamour that did his leaues extend like Shields to beare The Beames of Phebus darted in his pow'r at those that vnderneath them shrowded were I me reposed while my Thoughts did range here there eu'ry wher wher thoghts might roame So by their change at last my latest change became their Subiect with my latest Home And when with Trauell they themselues had tyr'd I likewise tir'd with life that stirr'd them too Thus flasht I out with sacred fury fir'd and my thoughts Bottome thus did I vndoe Why long I longer here to liue in death for life if mortall dyeth all the while Be'ing but a puffe but of the weakest Breath yet blowes me Weakenesse into strong Exile As soone as borne was I condemn'd to dye since when Time hath but executed me Yet life prolongs in dying misery so yet I am as those that dying be To him that gaue me life a death I owe which sith I can I must and shall repay His Powr's as great to take as to bestow then will I pay him though I quite decay I dead in Sinne his onely Sonne he slew to please his Iustice and to make me liue Sith me he bought I le giue him then his due which had I haue much more then that I giue Death soone will rid me from this lifes annoyes Annoyes that nought can rid saue death from life And put me in possession of those Ioyes that are as farre from end as free from strife And wer 't not madnesse to repine that I had not had life when Eue did Adam wiue Then t is but all alike to liue and dye as t is Not to haue liu'd and not to liue Then life IS not that not immortall is for mortall life is but Deaths other name Nor is that Blisse that is not fearelesse Blisse nor glory that is subiect still to shame The Dayes of Heau'n are datelesse sith the Sunne that makes them such doth neither set nor rise But stands as it shall doth and still hath done fixt in the Noone-stead of ETERNITIES Here one 's the ruine of another Day while like a ne'er-suffized Graue the Night Doth bury both in silence yet doth prey vpon them both till both play least in sight Death is the dore of life so would I liue then through this dore to life I needes must goe For through this dore Death LIFE it selfe did driue then sith LIFE dide for life I must doe so Two onely had the priuiledge to wend another way to life that mortals were But t was in firy Charets to this end that Fire should flesh refine yer it came there There where all ioyes vnited are of force for force vnited stronger makes the same The spirit and flesh both rauisht to diuorce and melt their pow'rs in loues eternall flame What Lets shall let me then from Paradise Mountaines of Gold and Rockes of rarest stone Crossing my Way I trampling will dispise if thither Hope but goe with me alone This WORLD 's a Vale that ceaseles teares do spoile and make it so a Bog or lothsome Lake Then who but Swine that pleasure take in Soile will here if they can choose abiding make Heau'n is my Home the HIGH'ST my Father is his SONNE my Brother Angels are my Friends Then while from Them I am I am amisse and lightly misse the Meanes to so good Ends. My Body 's but the Prison of my Soule which straits her more the more that Prison's free Time 's but the Rocke that vp my Life doth rowle and Earth the Place where Heau'n spinnes it me Here must I fight till Death for endlesse Life The Chariot of my Triumph then is Death Then as I would be free from endlesse strife to mount this Chariot I must spend my Breath The ground whereon I tread's the ground of Grieâ—e so that each step doth grieue me for it is A Sanguine-field that beareth Hurts in chiefe crost with sinister-bends and All amisse Then here to bee amisse is to be borne in Dolors Field to eu'ry foule Disgrace O Death then help my Soules house to adorne and let thine Armes be mine for lifes are base Am I not durt and dust then maruell is 't if I but with a thought be that or this A shadow by some substance doth subsist but all my substance but a shadow is The Sunne doth rise and set the Moone doth hold a constant course in most vnconstant state The Earth now quick with heate then dead with cold doth shew their plight that It preambulate Then ô yee Saints whose Bellies being rife with Waters both of life and grace be yee Pure Aquaducts by life to bring me life from the Well-head that fill may you and mee The Graue though wide it gape dismayes me not sith t is the Gate of glory rest and peace And though therein my mortall Part must rot yet thence it springs with much more faire encrease If the last breath we call our Bodyes death then may we call the other Breathings deaths Sith Life and death doe come and goe with Breath we haue as many deaths as we haue breaths Yet twixt this life and that we death doe call this ods there is while life doth last we dye But when Death comes we die no more but shall by dying well liue well immortally O then looke how the Labourer for Night the Pilot for the Port and for the Inne The Poast doth long so doth my tired spright by death still long for Life and rest therein Death is my Hope than feare not I his knife Feare is his Sting but Hope hath puld it out The mortall'st Wounds immortall make my life then better dye in Hope then liue in Doubt If Death be painfull then is paine sustain'd before or at the Article of Death But not before for then but thought is pain'd and at the instant it 's but rest of breath So that in Death is rest without disease then Death be kinde and rest my life in thee While others that doe cast such summes as these these Cyphers summe decyph'ring thee and mee And Cyphers cast lifes Cyphers to and fro that I their number seene may multiply Take nought from Nought nought remaines so the summe of All is lesse then vanitie Cyphers not Numbers call I them because they runne sans number roundly
then themselues enthrone to ouer-sway the Paines that Flesh annoy Then is this Peace and War true Heau'n Hell Where Paine and Pleasure doe themselues excell A wounded Conscience who can beare SAlues Sores doe cure and Medicines Maladies Friendship Oppression Wâ—sed me poore Estate Fauour Restraint and Timâ— Captiuitiâ—s Good life Reproch and louing Manners Hate But these nor ought else that are â—â—st or best except the Highest grace hâ—uâ— pâ—w'r to cure A wounded spirit with Sadnesse stâ—â—l opprest but It doth Death out-liue and Hell oâ—â— dure Were our Meate Manna our Weâ—des Salomons Monarches our Friends and Eden our Free-hold Our Guardes Gâ—â—iaâ—s our Seatesâ— highst Thrones our Houses Siluer hung with Pearle and Gold All these and all what else can Sense delight Doe rather kill than cure a wounded Spirit Death makes Things appeare as they are ENuy and Anger haue some Wise-meâ— kil'd though in those Passions we hold no man wise As fauour and base flatt'ry Fooles haue spild for with them both we Fooles doe Nestorize But when these moodes are with the Parties dead then were they Fooles who wer so wise while-ere And Thâ—y most wise that Fooles were reckoned thus Death doth make Things as they are appeare Flatt'ry adornes Mens Fortunes not the Men and Enuy not their Persons but their Fames Doth seeke to wound so it appeareth then that Wise nor Fooles haue here their proper Names But in the Font of Death they doe receiue Their naked Names which their true Natures giue God and Conscience tels truely what we are and are not as we seeme WHat thou art aske thine Hart and it wil show or aske a Foe that Conscience makes to lie But aske thou noâ— Selfe-loue which cannot know noâ— aske a Friend which can no â—ault espie If we could see our selues then should we see that we are nothing lesse then what we seeme Yet some seeme farre worse than in Deed they be and therefore All this Some doe not esteeme For we know nothing wholy but in part and vnderstand but what we know by Sense We see the Face but cannot see the Heart then showes betray our best Intelligence This makes all wise men that such Secrets know To winne the World a Shadow with a Show That Truth being One and still the same is made by wicked mâ—n to countenance Falshood which is manifold and still vnlike WHen Peace Truth do iarre Peace is not peace then Peace in Truth is that we should ensue Now for this Truth what Warres and Iarres encrease these Times doe â—eele and After-times may rue Yet no Man 's so vniust that will auerre he fights for Falshood but for Truth and Right So iust some say is eu'ry vniust Warre thus Truth is made to countenance each Fight Who euer yet for Heresie hath dide but saith for Truth he dies and so beleeues Or what Sect saith not Truth is on their side so Truth is made a Diuell that deceiues But Truth is God vnmade who in the end Will damne them all that make him such a Fiend That we are naturally bent to Ill but supernaturally to Goodnesse TWixt Sinne and Grace I tost am to and fro as mine Affections please to bandy me From Grace to Sinne I flye but backe I goe and yet I goe as one that faine would flee Nature doth moue the Wings of my Desire to Sinne-wards nimbly but not so to Grace For then she limes them with my fleshes myre that I am forc'd to passe an heauy pace Yet still I stirre those Wings and seeke to breake faile fleshes Bands too strong for me too fraile Who though sometimes I faile of what I seeke yet seeke I what I finde and neuer faile For none seekes Grace that hath not Grace in hold Then Seekers find though oft lesse then they would Abuse is familiar with humane Flesh and Bloud MInding this World I muse at what I minde though It vnworthy be of Minde or Muse I muse that Men are to It so inclinde sith It mindes nought but how Men to abuse From high to low Abuse doth proudly raigne from which the Preist that leads all is not free The Holy hold the Holy in disdaine if with their state their states doe not agree Vertue or Vice are held or good or ill as in this World they thriue or ill or well For Vice is honor'd more then Vertue still if Vices Mannors Vertues doe excell If Manors good doe what good Maners ought That 's make men great great men are made of nought That it is farre better not Be then to be Ill. THe World the Wombe where all misdeeds are bred breedes in my little World such great offence That my Soule great with Sinne 's deliuered of Griefe that gaules my bleeding Conscience The Mid-wife Flesh that did the same produce giues it the Nurse curst Nature it to feede And fattens It with full-Breasts of Abuse so Griefe growes great with Natures grosse misdeeds O Nature Nurse of my Soules foule Disgrace ô World the Nurse of that Nurse grounds of grief Why doe you giue me being time and place sith you doe worse then kill me with reliefe For that reliâ—se that doth but nourish Sinne Makes our Case worse then if we ne'er had bin Sinne and Grace cannot dwell in one place IF Faith beleeu'd that Creede that Essence giues her then would she giue the Soule what that doth giue Faith 's made to know and doe that which relieues her for by her actiue knowledge she doth liue But oft the Soule though Faith be still her Ghest makes Sinne her Steward to prouide her Foode How then can Faith such banefull Bits digest which but contaminate her vitall Bloud Can Faith and Sinne if they be full in force dwell as if friends they were in one weake Heart No one will other from the same diuorce for Sou'raignes part with life ere Lordship part Then want of Faith with grosse Sin is supplide For Nature vacuum could ne'er abide In rainy-gloomy Weather THis Weather 's like my troubled Minde and Eyes the one being sad the other full of Teares And as Winde oft the often Showrings dryes so Sighes my Teares dry vp and kindle Cares Sighes please and paine the displeas'd painfull Heart they please in giuing vent to Griefes vp-pent And yet the Heart they ease they cause to smart so Griefes encrease as Sighes doe giue them vent But were my Minde thus sad but for my Crimes and mine Eyes turn'd to Teares for cause so deare Or did my Heart for that sith often times my Sighes my Teares my Sadnesse blessed were But t is sith Hope my Ship through Fates crosse-waue Now grates vpon the Grauell of my Graue Our Wits are vnable to please our Wils THis Life is but a Laborynth of Ils whose many Turnings so amaze our Mindes that out of Them our Wit no issue findes But what our Sense commands our Wit fulfils Yet Sense being tired with deceitfull Ioyes that fleete as soone as felt prouokes the
art Thou that suffer'st for mans sake O tell me for I will diuulge thy Word that all things made men marred to re-marke First for thy selfe with what rich tearmes of Art shall I expresse Thee inexpressable I le say as thou said'st Thou art what Thou art because Thou know'st Thou wert ineffable Thou art a BEEING more then infinite and being of thy selfe proceed'st of none Without thee can no being chance to light for Chance and being light by Thee alone Thy matchlesse pow'r of nothing all things made thy Goodnesse saues all without other aide And if thou wouldst to nothing They should fade for in for and by thee they all are staid Thou onely art that art and nothing is besides thee in comparison of thee The Lamps of Heau'n their light before thee misse whose brightnesse bright'st Eyes are blinde to see All beautie 's Foulenesse Pow'r infirmitie Wisedome Grosse Folly Goodnesse worse then nought Weigh'd with thy more then All sufficiencie more faire strong wise and good then can be thought More then most faire sith selfe Formositie and more then pow'rfull sith Omnipotent Much more then Wisedome sith her Soules right eye exceeding Goodnesse sith her Continent Yea good thou art both to the good and bad for good and bad sucke sweetnesse still from thee With good gifts good Soules thou dost ouer-lade and good'st the bad to make them better be Without distraction thou dost all in All Thou All contain'st yet art in eu'ry place And yet art all alike in great and small yet here then there much greater by thy Grace Thou euer work'st yet euer art at rest resting in endlesse dooing thy good Will Thou all vphold'st and yet art not supprest th' art Good alone and yet thou suffer'st ill Thou Cause of Causes art yet caused art to punish sinne yet didst for sinners die Thou art impassible yet sufferd'st smart lower then Hell yet more then Heau'n hie What shall I say of thy dread Maiestie Thou Earth behold'st and It doth trembling stand Touch but the Mountaines and they smoke thereby then Seas and Windes doe rest at thy command The Sunne with gloomy Clouds enueloped doth hide his head wheÌ„ thou his head dost frown The Moone and Stars with Cloud-cloakes couered in their confusion sham'd doe then lye downe Thou spread'st the Heau'ns marchest on the deepe whilst her deepe Base yeelds dreadfull harmonie Thou mak'st the Spheares both Time Tune to keep maugre their Discords and varietie Thou call'st the Stars by name who come at call and like true Sentinols keepe well their watch Hiperion that guides the Capitall to thee subordinate doth key their Catch Thou anglest for the huge Leuiathan and throgh his Nostrils mak'st thy Hooke appeare Which being hang'd thou playest with him than as with a Fish that hangs but by an Haire Hell quakes when thou dost volly forth thy voice which Bandies Earth as t were a Racket Batt The Heau'ns shall melt and passe away with noise when thou thy Creatures to account shalt call Vpon the Necks of Monarchs thou dost treade and pau'st the Pauement with their Diadems The dreadfull Pow'rs of thy Pow'r stand in dread and Glory it selfe is blinded by thy Beames The Seraphins though glitt'ring-glorious Sp'rits in thy bright presence seeme but Butterflies Thou rid'st vpon the Cherubins whose sights thy Beautie blinds with rates that thence arise To thee the Gates of Death lye open wide which on their Hinges play as thou dost will Nay Death himself doth quake wheÌ„ thou dost chide as if it would his Soule immortall kill The Heau'ns declare thy glory Fire thy brightnesse the Aire thy subtiletie the Sea thy Dread The flowers of the Field thy Beauties brightnesse thus all in All thy praise abroad doe spread Such and so great such and so great quoth I nay Lord much more then such or so Thou art For Words defectiue are so needs must lye but thou Lord art deficient in no part And now let me recount the wretched wronges which so great Maiestie hath borne for mee And whiles I count let Men and Angels Tongues sound endlesse Peales of Praises vnto Thee Who being so sublime in dignitie did'st from the height of Maiestie descend Into this vale of deepest miserie and cloath'd thee with my flesh the same to mend Wherein thou suffer'dst for my sinfull sake Hunger and Thirst in famishing excesse With Plagues and Persecutions which did make to seeme accursed thy true blessednesse The Passions of the Aire thou did'st abide as Prologus to thy PASSIONS Tragedie For Heate and cold thy Body damnifide as needs they must that hadst no where to lye Whose Pouerty was such that Birds and Beasts were much more rich that Neasts Holes enjoy'd But thou deare Lord hadst neither Holes nor neasts nor ought besides wherein thy Head to hide Borne in a Stable Cradel'd in a Cratch begging the breath of beasts to keepe thee warme Wrapped in Rags that coursest Clouts did patch which did thy tender flesh lesse warme then harme O sight of force to wonder-rap all Eyes Yee Angels all admire this Noueltie For lo your Lord in base Rags wrapped lyes to shew the riches of Humilitie And eight dayes after took'st a Sinners Marke that cam'st indeed to abrogate the same Soone after wast constrain'd to vse the Darke to hide thy Flight that fledd'st to hide thy Fame Therefore thou sought'st the silence of the Night to be the Triton of thy Lowlinesse Yet now the World began thy Fame to spight and in the rise did seeke It to suppresse Herod thy Hunter like a Bloud-hound fell did hunt for Thee that He on Thee might pray For what thou wert he by and by did smell and hunted after Thee a likely way But to a Nation most Idolatrous thou wast constraind from his pâ—rsuite to flye So Innocencie Life preserued thus for which deare Innocents were forc'd to dye Then Innocencie Innocencie slew how then could It therein be innocent For both are innocent yet both is true the first in deede the other in euent They lost their bloud for Him He his for Them so both did bleede and for each other bled And both as Innocents their blouds did streame He as their Head They Members of that Head O! had I beene so blest ere Sinne I knew t' haue di'd for thee among those Innocents Or that I could my sinnes to death pursue or make them liue like banish'd male-contents Then would I dye for thee an Innocent if curst Herodian hands would blesse me so O let me trie this deare Experiment although it cost my Heart-bloud erâ— I goe For when before my Mindes Eye thou dost come in all thy Passions my desire doth melt My very Marrow to taste Martyrdome and Sense feeles paine till it such paines hath felt It may be that I doe but now desire to doe that then I may desire to flye For he that was thy bodyes hardiest Squire so thought and said but did It then deny Flesh is a
Traitor worse then hee that solde thee it will for Meede or Dread the Soule betray Nor in fire is it willing to behold thee in fiery tryals then it shrinckes away Therefore when it a Champion of such might betraid to feare I dare not say I will No that 's Presumption but I wish I might for willing well without thee we doe ill Then be with me strong Pow'r and I will say I will and will performe that will in Deed For where thou art by Pow'r it 's but a play in greatest torments then to burne or bleed Now as thy Body grew so grew thy griefes for who deare Lord can possibly expresse Thy Persecutions void of all reliefe saue Praying Fasting Watching Wearinesse They spake against thee who sate in the Gate and common Drunkards ballads made of thee That thou might'st say in worse then Dauids state being poore I labour from mine Infancie These were the griefs dear Loue thy life did brook but in thy Death what Sense ere vnderstood What paines thou felt'st when like a rising brooke thy body more and more o'erflow'd with bloud Freedome made Captiue Mercy Miserie Grace quite disgraced beauty vilifide Innocence strooken Iustice doom'd to dye Glory quite shamed and Life crucifide O Heau'ns what can amaze with Wonderment the Sense of Man more then this what shall I Call this so strange vnheard of Loues extent that ouer-fils all Names Capacitie In few now Grace alone seemes Sinne alone Life dyes State 's whipt and Pow'r bound to a Poast The Glory of the Father spet vpon and in a word God seemeth to be lost In this Deepe further may my Soule not wade my strength is spent for my heart bleedes in me O glorious Grace O Maiestie vnmade is this for me O boundlesse Charitie If I for my Redemption am so tide to loue and honour thee What shall I bee For that thou did'st so many Deaths abide when one wold serue to make me more than free With what loue shall I quite this more then Loue with what life shall I imitate thy life With what teares shall I my repose reproue and with what Peace shall I conclude my strife I owe thee more for my redeeming Lord sith in the same thou Death of deaths didst proue Then for my Making which was with a Word for more much more thy Passion showde thy loue For if for Cherubins or Seraphins thou had'st thus di'd t 'had beene lesse meruellous But thou hast di'd for me a Sincke of sinnes which of all Wonders is most wonderous What are we Lord or what our Fathers House we Sons of wretched Men that Gods deere Senne Doth in such loue and mercie visit vs as through Death to re-make vs quite vndone If in the ballance of thy Sanctuary thou weigh our body t' will be found more light Than Vanitie more graue then Misery as if It did consist in Natures spight And if our Conuersation thou respect what is it but a Chaos of Offence The Goodnesse of whose All is all Defect whose very Souâ—'s but Hell of Conscience Dost thou ô God then for such Diuels die the Sonnes of Sathan most oppos'd to thee For the Subuerters of all Honestie for breakers of good Lawes that blessed be For thy Contemners for thy Gloryes Clouds for thy Deprauers for the worst of Ils For meere cuâ—st Thwarts of all Beatitudes for thy Tormentors that thy Soule would kill Whose Hearts no gifts can once allure to loue much lesse with Menaces are terrifide Nor mou'd with heauy Plagues that Rockes would moue nor yet with sweet'st Indulgence mollifide For Fiends who not suffic'd with their owne vice the Earth doe compasse so to compasse more And not contented others to intice diue to the Diuels to augment their store Where robbing those Egyptians of their wealth to weet Pride Enuy Malice blasphemie Away they steale so all they doe by stealth to make them Idols for their Fantasie Who when they haue rak'â— Hell for eu'ry Euill and got as much as Hell can hold or yeeld They then deuise themselues worse then the Diuel new kindes of sinnes that Hell yet neuer held Adding thereto obduracie of Heart and doe their Conscience more then cauterize Pleasing themselues like Fiends in others smart and for that end doe many meanes deuise Are these deare Lord the things for which thou the things I say for no Name is so ill As they deserue What onely must the Highest diest dye for vile Vipers that their Maker kill My Heart doth faile my Spirit is extinct when thus I weigh thy Mercies with my Sinne And wert not for thy graces meere instinct I should despaire deare Lord and dye therein Yet sith I haue begun to speake to thee O be not angry if I yet doe speake Let Dust and Ashes once so saucie be to aske their God what He hereby doth seeke Seek'st thou the loue of such meere Lumps of Hate or else the seruice of such Vermine vile Alas great Lord it stands not with thy State sith where they come by nature they defile If thy desire of Marriage did so burne that Thou thy Creatures would'st needes espouse Why then did Seraphins not serue thy turne that are more Noble and thee better vse Why of a prepuce Nation took'st a Wife which afterwards did Thee betray and kill So marriedst as it were the very Knife that cut thy throate so seem'dst thy selfe to spill What answer'st Lord to these too high Demands I would haue this because I would have this This is thine Answere and the reason stands vpon thy Will which cannot will amisse Then be it Lord according to thy Will for so it muâ—â— be be it how so ere By life or death then let me It fulfill that dost by both thee so to mee endeere For since Mans fall none passe to Paradise but by the dreadfull burning Cherubins To Canaan none but by where Marah lies sith there th' inheritance of ioy begins And none vnto the happy Citie goes that goes not by the Babel-Riuers side And none Ierusalem or sees or knowes that through the vale of Teares nor goe â—orride The way to Heau'n is by the Gates of Hell and Wormwood-wine thogh bitter wholsome is Thy Crosse ô Christ doth Heau'ns strong 〈◊〉 compell to open wide for t is the Key of blisse And sith for me so well thou loud'st that Crosse Let me for thee count all things else but losse A Thanksgiuing for our Vocation WIth all the pow'r and vertues of my Soule I doe adore thee holy Lord of All That when I had no name in thy check-rowle thou wrat'st it on thy Palme and me didst call I dwelt sometimes in blacke Obliuions Land where in the shade of Death I sadly sate But thou kind Lord didst reach me then thy hand which from thence drew me to a glorious state When as I wandred in the crooked wayes that too directly led to endlesse paine Thou didst thy forces then against me raise to put me in thy