blessings were as slow As mens returns what would become of fools What hast thou there a heart but is it pure Search well and see for hearts have many holes Yet one pure heart is nothing to bestow In Christ two natures met to be thy cure O that within us hearts had propagation Since many gifts do challenge many hearts Yet one if good may title to a number And single things grow fruitfull by deserts In publick judgements one may be a nation And fence a plague while others sleep and slumber But all I fear is lest thy heart displease As neither good nor one so oft divisions Thy lusts have made and not thy lusts alone Thy passions also have their set partitions These parcell out thy heart recover these And thou mayst offer many gifts in one There is a balsome or indeed a bloud Dropping from heav'n which doth both cleanse and close All sorts of wounds of such strange force it is Seek out this All-heal and seek no repose Untill thou finde and use it to thy good Then bring thy gift and let thy hymne be this Since my sadnesse Into gladnesse Lord thou dost convert O accept What thou hast kept As thy due desert Had I many Had I any For this heart is none All were thine And none of mine Surely thine alone Yet thy favour May give savour To this poore oblation And it raise To be thy praise And be my salvation ¶ Longing WIth sick and famisht eyes With doubling knees and weary bones To thee my cries To thee my grones To thee my sighs my tears ascend No end My throat my soul is hoarse My heart is wither'd like a ground Which thou dost curse My thoughts turn round And make me giddie Lord I fall Yet call From thee all pitie flows Mothers are kinde because thou art And dost dispose To them a part Their infants them and they suck thee More free Bowels of pitie heare Lord of my soul love of my minde Bow down thine eare Let not the winde Scatter my words and in the same Thy name Look on my sorrows round Mark well my furnace O what flames What heats abound What griefs what shames Consider Lord Lord bow thine eare And heare Lord Jesu thou didst bow Thy dying head upon the tree O be not now More dead to me Lord heare Shall he that made the eare Not heare Behold thy dust doth stirre It moves it creeps it aims at thee Wilt thou deferre To succour me Thy pile of dust wherein each crumme Sayes Come To thee help appertains Hast thou left all things to their course And laid the reins Upon the horse Is all lockt hath a sinners plea No key Indeed the world 's thy book Where all things have their leafe assign'd Yet a meek look Hath interlin'd Thy board is full yet humble guests Finde nests Thou tarriest while I die And fall to nothing thou dost reigne And rule on high While I remain In bitter grief yet am I stil'd Thy childe Lord didst thou leave thy throne Not to relieve how can it be That thou art grown Thus hard to me Were sinne alive good cause there were To bear But now both sinne is dead And all thy promises live and bide That wants his head These speak and chide And in thy bosome poure my tears As theirs Lord JESU heare my heart Which hath been broken now so long That ev'ry part Hath got a tongue Thy beggars grow rid them away To day My love my sweetnesse heare By these thy feet at which my heart Lies all the yeare Pluck out thy dart And heal my troubled breast which cryes Which dyes ¶ The Bag. AWay despair my gracious Lord doth heare Though windes and waves assault my keel He doth preserve it he doth steer Ev'n when the boat seems most to reel Storms are the triumph of his art Well may he close his eyes but not his heart Hast thou not heard that my Lord JESUS di'd Then let me tell thee a strange storie The God of power as he did ride In his majestick robes of glorie Resolv'd to light and so one day He did descend undressing all the way The starres his tire of light and rings obtain'd The cloud his bow the fire his spear The sky his azure mantle gain'd And when they ask'd what he would wear He smil'd and said as he did go He had new clothes a making here below When he was come as travellers are wont He did repair unto an inne Both then and after many a brunt He did endure to cancell sinne And having giv'n the rest before Here he gave up his life to pay our score But as he was returning there came one That ran upon him with a spear He who came hither all alone Bringing nor man nor arms nor fear Receiv'd the blow upon his side And straight he turn'd and to his brethren cry'd If ye have any thing to send or write I have no bag but here is room Unto my fathers hands and sight Beleeve me it shall safely come That I shall minde what you impart Look you may put it very neare my heart Or if hereafter any of my friends Will use me in this kinde the doore Shall still be open what he sends I will present and somewhat more Not to his hurt Sighs will convey Any thing to me Heark despair away ¶ The Jews POore nation whose sweet sap and juice Our cyens have purloin'd and left you drie Whose streams we got by the Apostles sluce And use in baptisme while ye pine and die Who by not keeping once became a debter And now by keeping lose the letter Oh that my prayers mine alas Oh that some Angel might a trumpet sound At which the Church falling upon her face Should crie so loud untill the trump were drown'd And by that crie of her deare Lord obtain That your sweet sap might come again ¶ The Collar I Struck the board and cry'd No more I will abroad What shall I ever sigh and pine My lines and life are free free as the rode Loose as the winde as large as store Shall I be still in suit Have I no harvest but a thorn To let me bloud and not restore What I have lost with cordiall fruit Sure there was wine Before my sighs did drie it there was corn Before my tears did drown it Is the yeare onely lost to me Have I no bayes to crown it No flowers no garlands gay all blasted All wasted Not so my heart but there is fruit And thou hast hands Recover all thy sigh-blown age On double pleasures leave thy cold dispute Of what is fit and not forsake thy cage Thy rope of sands Which pettie thoughts have made and made to thee Good cable to enforce and draw And be thy law While thou didst wink and wouldst not see Away take heed I will abroad Call in thy deaths head there tie up thy fears He that forbears To suit and serve his need Deserves his load But
Oh that I were an Orenge-tree That busie plant â—hen should I ever laden be And never want Some fruit for him that dressed me But we are still too young or old The man is gone Before we do our wares unfold So we freeze on Untill the grave increase our cold ¶ Deniall WHen my devotions could not pierce Thy silent eares Then was my heart broken as was my verse My breast was full of fears And disorder My bent thoughts like a brittle bow Did flie asunder Each took his way some would to pleasures go Some to the warres and thunder Of alarms As good go any where they say As to benumme Both knees and heart in crying night and day Come come my God O come But no hearing O that thou shouldst give dust a tongue To crie to thee And then not heare it crying all day long My heart was in my knee But no hearing Therefore my soul lay out of sight Untun'd unstrung My feeble spirit unable to look right Like a nipt blossome hung Discontented O cheer and tune my heartlesse breast Deferre no time That so thy favours granting my request They and my minde may chime And mend my ryme ¶ Christmas ALl after pleasures as I rid one day My horse and I both tir'd bodie and minde With full crie of affections quite astray I took up in the next inne I could finde â—ere when I came whom found I but my deare My dearest Lord expecting till the grief Of pleasures brought me to him readie there â—â—e all passengers most sweet relief Thou whose glorious yet contracted light Wrapt in nights mantle stole into a manger Since my dark soul and brutish is thy right Man of all beasts be not thou a stranger Furnish deck my soul that thou mayst have A better lodging then a rack or grave THe shepherds sing and shall I silent be My God no hymne for thee â—y soul 's a shepherd too a flock it feeds Of thoughts and words and deeds The pasture is thy word the streams thy grace Enriching all the place Shepherd and flock shall sing and all my powers Out-sing the day-light houres Then we will chide the sunne for letting night Take up his place and right We sing one common Lord wherefore he should Himself the candle hold â— will go searching till I finde a sunne Shall stay till we have done A willing shiner that shall shine as gladly As frost-nipt sunnes look sadly Then we will sing and shine all our own day And one another pay His beams shall cheer my breast and both so twine Till ev'n his beams sing and my musick shine ¶ Ungratefulnesse LOrd with what bountie and rare clemencie Hast thou redeem'd us from the grave If thou hadst let us runne Gladly had man ador'd the sunne And thought his god most brave Where now we shall be better gods then he Thou hast but two rare cabinets full of treasure The Trinitie and Incarnation Thou hast unlockt them both And made them jewels to betroth The work of thy creation Unto thy self in everlasting pleasure The statelier cabinet is the Trinitie Whose sparkling light accesse denies Therefore thou dost not show This fully to us till death blow The dust into our eyes For by that powder thou wilt make us see But all thy sweets are packt up in the other Thy mercies thither flock and flow That as the first affrights This may allure us with delights Because this box we know For we have all of us just such another But man is close reserv'd and dark to thee When thou demandest but a heart He cavils instantly In his poore cabinet of bone Sinnes have their box apart Defrauding thee who gavest two for one ¶ Sighs and Grones O Do not use me After my sinnes look not on my desert But on thy glorie then thou wilt reform And not refuse me for thou onely art The mightie God but I a sillie worm O do not bruise me O do not urge me For what account can thy ill steward make I have abus'd thy stock destroy'd thy woods Suckt all thy magazens my head did ake Till it found out how to consume thy goods O do not scourge me O do not blinde me I have deserv'd that an Egyptian night Should thicken all my powers because my lust Hath still sow'd fig-leaves to exclude thy light But I am frailtie and already dust O do not grinde me O do not fill me With the turn'd viall of thy bitter wrath For thou hast other vessels full of bloud A part whereof my Saviour empti'd hath Ev'n unto death since he di'd for my good O do not kill me But O reprieve me For thou hast life and death at thy command Thou art both Iudge and Saviour feast and rod Cordiall and Corrosive put not thy hand Into the bitter box but O my God My God relieve me ¶ The World LOve built a stately house where Fortune came And spinning phansies she was heard to say That her fine cobwebs did support the frame Whereas they were supported by the same But Wisdome quickly swept them all away Then Pleasure came who liking not the fashion Began to make Balcones Terraces Till she had weakned all by alteration But rev'rend laws and many a proclamation Reformed all at length with menaces Then enter'd Sinne and with that Sycomore Whose leaves first sheltred man from drought dew Working and winding slily evermore The inward walls and Sommers cleft and tore But Grace shor'd these and cut that as it grew Then Sinne combin'd with Death in a firm band To rase the building to the very floore Which they effected none could them withstand But Love and Grace took Glorie by the hand And built a braver Palace then before Coloss. 3.3 Our life is hid with Christ in God MY words thoughts do both expresse this notion That Life hath with the sun a double motion The first Is straight and our diurnall friend The other Hid and doth obliquely bend One life is wrapt In flesh and tends to earth The other winds towards Him whose happie birth Taught me to live here so That still one eye Should aim and shoot at that which Is on high Quitting with daily labour all My pleasure To gain at harvest an eternall Treasure ¶ Vanitie THe fleet Astronomer can bore And thred the spheres with his quick-piercing minde He views their stations walks from doore to doore Surveys as if he had design'd To make a purchase there he sees their dances And knoweth long before Both their full-ey'd aspects and secret glances The nimble Diver with his side Cuts through the working waves that he may fetch His dearely-earned pearl which God did hide On purpose from the ventrous wretch That he might save his life and also hers Who with excessive pride Her own destruction and his danger wears The subtil Chymick can devest And strip the creature naked till he finde The callow principles within their nest There he imparts to them his
power Killing and quickning bringing down to hell And up to heaven in an houre Making a chiming of a passing-bell We say amisse This or that is Thy word is all if we could spell O that I once past changing were Fast in thy Paradise where no flower can wither Many a spring I shoot up fair Offring at heav'n growing and groning thither Nor doth my flower Want a spring-showre My sinnes and I joining together But while I grow in a straight line Still upwards bent as if heav'n were mine own Thy anger comes and I decline What frost to that what pole is not the zone Where all things burn When thou dost turn And the least frown of thine is shown And now in age I bud again After so many deaths I live and write I once more smell the dew and rain And relish versing O my onely light It cannot be That I am he On whom thy tempests fell all night These are thy wonders Lord of love To make us see we are but flowers that glide Which when we once can finde and prove Thou hast a garden for us where to bide Who would be more Swelling through store Forfeit their Paradise by their pride ¶ Dotage FAlse glozing pleasures casks of happinesse Foolish night-fires womens and childrens wishes Chases in Arras guilded emptinesse Shadows well mounted dreams in a career Embroider'd lyes nothing between two dishes These are the pleasures here True earnest sorrows rooted miseries Anguish in grain vexations ripe and blown Sure-footed griefs solid calamities Plain demonstrations evident and cleare Fetching their proofs ev'n from the very bone These are the sorrows here But oh the folly of distracted men Who griefs in earnest joyes in jest pursue Preferring like brute beasts a lothsome den Before a court ev'n that above so cleare Where are no sorrows but delights more true Then miseries are here ¶ The Sonne LEt forrain nations of their language boast What fine varietie each tongue affords I like our language as our men and coast Who cannot dresse it well want wit not words How neatly doe we give one onely name To parents issue and the sunnes bright starre A sonne is light and fruit a fruitfull flame Chasing the fathers dimnesse carri'd farre From the first man in th' East to fresh and new Western discov'ries of posteritie So in one word our Lords humilitie We turn upon him in a sense most true For what Christ once in humblenesse began We him in glorie call The Sonne of Man ¶ A true Hymne MY joy my life my crown My heart was meaning all the day Somewhat it fain would say And still it runneth mutt'ring up and down With onely this My joy my life my crown Yet slight not these few words If truly said they may take part Among the best in art The finenesse which a hymne or psalme affords Is when the soul unto the lines accords He who craves all the minde And all the soul and strength and time If the words onely ryme Justly complains that somewhat is behinde To make his verse or write a hymne in kinde Whereas if th' heart be moved Although the verse be somewhat scant God doth supplie the want As when th' heart sayes sighing to be approved O could I love and stops God writeth Loved ¶ The Answer MY comforts drop and melt away like snow I shake my head and all the thoughts and ends Which my fierce youth did bandie fall and flow Like leaves about me or like summer friends Flyes of estates and sunne-shine But to all Who think me eager hot and undertaking But in my prosecutions slack and small As a young exhalation newly waking Scorns his first bed of dirt and means the sky But cooling by the way grows pursie and slow And setling to a cloud doth live and die In that dark state of tears to all that so Show me and set me I have one reply Which they that know the rest know more then I. ¶ A Dialogue-Antheme Christian. Death Chr. ALas poore Death where is thy glorie Where is thy famous force thy ancient sting Dea. Alas poore mortall void of storie Go spell and reade how I have kill'd thy King Chr. Poore death and who was hurt thereby Thy curse being laid on him makes thee accurst Dea. Let losers talk yet thou shalt die These arms shall crush thee Chr. Spare not do thy worst I shall be one day better then before Thou so much worse that thou shalt be no more ¶ The Water-course THou who dost dwell and linger here below Since the condition of this world is frail Where of all plants afflictions soonest grow If troubles overtake thee do not wail For who can look for lesse that loveth Life Strife But rather turn the pipe and waters course To serve thy sinnes and furnish thee with store Of sov'raigne tears springing from true remorse That so in purenesse thou mayst him adore Who gives to man as he sees fit Salvation Damnation ¶ Self-condemnation THou who condemnest Jewish hate For choosing Barabbas a murderer Before the Lord of glorie Look back upon thine own estate Call home thine eye that busie wanderer That choice may be thy storie He that doth love and love amisse This worlds delights before true Christian joy Hath made a Jewish choice The world an ancient murderer is Thousands of souls it hath and doth destroy With her enchanting voice He that hath made a sorrie wedding Between his soul and gold and hath preferr'd False gain before the true Hath done what he condemnes in reading For he hath sold for money his deare Lord And is a Judas-Jew Thus we prevent the last great day And judge our selves That light which sin passion Did before dimme and choke When once those snuffes are ta'ne away Shines bright and cleare ev'n unto condemnation Without excuse or cloke ¶ Bitter-sweet AH my deare angrie Lord Since thou dost love yet strike Cast down yet help afford 〈◊〉 I will do the like I will complain yet praise I will bewail approve And all my sowre-sweet dayes I will lament and love ¶ The Glance WHen first thy sweet and gracious eye Vouchsaf'd ev'n in the midst of youth and night To look upon me who before did lie Weltring in sinne I felt a sugred strange delight Passing all cordials made by any art Bedew embalme and overrunne my heart And take it in Since that time many a bitter storm My soul hath felt ev'n able to destroy Had the malicious and ill-meaning harm His swing and sway But still thy sweet originall joy Sprung from thine eye did work within my soul And surging griefs when they grew bold controll And got the day If thy first glance so powerfull be A mirth but open'd and seal'd up again What wonders shall we feel when we shall see Thy full-ey'd love When thou shalt look us out of pain And one aspect of thine spend in delight More then a thousand sunnes disburse in light In heav'n above ¶ The
storie He makes flat warre with God and doth defie With his poore clod of earth the spacious sky Take not his name who made thy mouth in vain It gets thee nothing and hath no excuse Lust and wine plead a pleasure avarice gain But the cheap swearer through his open sluce Le ts his soul runne for nought as little fearing Were I an Epicure I could bate swearing When thou dost tell anothers jest therein Omit the oathes which true wit cannot need Pick out of tales the mirth but not the sinne He pares his apple that will cleanly feed Play not away the vertue of that name Which is thy best stake when griefs make thee tame The cheapest sinnes most dearely punisht are Because to shun them also is so cheap For we have wit to mark them and to spare O crumble not away thy souls fair heap If thou wilt die the gates of hell are broad Pride and full sinnes have made the way a road Lie not but let thy heart be true to God Thy mouth to it thy actions to them both Cowards tell lies and those that fear the rod The stormie working soul spits lies and froth Dare to be true Nothing can need a ly A fault which needs it most grows two thereby Flie idlenesse which yet thou canst not flie By dressing mistressing and complement Iâ— those take up thy day the sunne will crie Against thee for his light was onely lent God gave thy soul brave wings put not those feathers Into a bed to sleep out all ill weathers Art thou a Magistrate then be severe If studious copie fair what time hath blurr'd Redeem truth from his jawes if souldier Chase brave employments with a naked sword Throughout the world Fool not for all may have If they dare try a glorious life or grave O England full of sinne but most of sloth Spit out thy flegme and fill thy brest with glorie Thy Gâ—â—trie bleats as if thy native cloth Transfus 〈◊〉 sheepishnesse into thy storie Not that they all are so but that the most Are gone to grasse and in the pasture lost This losse springs chiefly from our education Some till their ground but let weeds choke their sonne Some mark a partridge never their childes fashion Some ship them over and the thing is done Studie this art make it thy great designe And if Gods image move thee not let thine Some great estates provide but doe not breed A mast'ring minde so both are lost thereby Or els they breed them tender make them need All that they leave this is flat povertie For he that needs five thousand pound to live Is full as poore as he that needs but five The way to make thy sonne rich is to fill His minde with rest before his trunk with riches For wealth without contentment climbes a hill To feel those tempests which fly over ditches But if thy sonne can make ten pound his measure Then all thou addest may be call'd his treasure When thou dost purpose ought within thy power Be sure to doe it though it be but small Constancie knits the bones and makes us stowre When wanton pleasures becken us to thrall Who breaks his own bond forfeiteth himself What nature made a ship he makes a shelf Doe all things like a man not sneakingly Think the king sees thee still for his King does Simpring is but a lay-hypocrisie Give it a corner and the clue undoes Who fears to do ill sets himself to taâ—k Who fears to do well sure should wear a mask Look to thy mouth diseases enter there Thou hast two sconses if thy stomack call Carve or discourse do not a famine fear Who carves is kind to two who talks to all Look on meat think it dirt then eat a bit And say withall Earth to earth I commit Slight those who say amidst their sickly healths Thou liv'st by rule What doth not so but man Houses are built by rule and common-wealths Entice the trusty sunne if that you can From his Ecliptick line becken the skie Who lives by rule then keeps good companie Who keeps no guard upon himself is slack And rots to nothing at the next great thaw Man is a shop of rules a well truss'd pack Whos 's every parcell under-writes a law Lose not thy self nor give thy humours way God gave them to thee under lock and key By all means use sometimes to be alone Salute thy self see what thy soul doth wear Dare to look in thy chest for'tis thine own And tumble up and down what thou find'st there Who cannot rest till hee good fellows finde He breaks up house turns out of doores his minde Be thriftie but not covetous therefore give Thy need thine honour and thy friend his due Never was scraper brave man Get to live Then live and use it els it is not true That thou hast gotten Surely use alone Makes money not a contemptible stone Never exceed thy income Youth may make Ev'n with the yeare but age if it will hit Shoots a bow short and lessens still his stake As the day lessens and his life with it Thy children kindred friends upon thee call Before thy journey fairly part with all Yet in thy thriving still misdoubt some evil Lest gaining gain on thee and make thee dimme To all things els Wealth is the conjurers devil Whom when he thinks he hath the devil hath him Gold thou mayst safely touch but if it stick Unto thy hands it woundeth to the quick What skills it if a bag of stones or gold About thy neck do drown thee raise thy head Take starres for money starres not to be told By any art yet to be purchased None is so wastefull as the scraping dame She loseth three for one her soul rest fame By no means runne in debt take thine own measure Who cannot live on twentie pound a yeare Cannot on fourtie he 's a man of pleasure A kinde of thing that 's for it self too deere The curious unthrift makes his cloth too wide And spares himself but would his taylor chide Spend not on hopes They that by pleading clothes Do fortunes seek when worth and service fail Would have their tale beleeved for their oathes And are like empty vessels under sail Old courtiers know this therefore set out so As all the day thou mayst hold out to go In clothes cheap handsomnesse doth bear the bell Wisedome's a trimmer thing then shop e're gave Say not then This with that lace will do well But This with my discretion will be brave Much curiousnesse is a perpetuall wooing Nothing with labour folly long a doing Play not for gain but sport Who playes for more Then he can lose with pleasure stakes his heart Perhaps his wives too and whom she hath bore Servants and churches also play their part Onely a herauld who that way doth passe Findes his crackt name at length in the church-glasse If yet thou love game at so deere a rate Learn this that hath old
little sling The cunning workman never doth refuse The meanest tool that he may chance to use 〈◊〉 forrain wisdome doth amount to this To take all that is given whether wealth Or love or language nothing comes amisse A good digestion turneth all to health And then as farre as fair behaviour may Strike off all scores none are so cleare as they Keep all thy native good and naturalize All forrain of that name but scorn their ill Embrace their activenesse not vanities Who follows all things forfeiteth his will If thou observest strangers in each fit In time they 'l runne thee out of all thy wit Affect in things about thee cleanlinesse That all may gladly board thee as a flowre Slovens take up their stock of noisomnesse Beforehand and anticipate their last houre Let thy mindes sweetnesse have his operation Upon thy body clothes and habitation In Almes regard thy means and others merit Think heav'n a better bargain then to give Onely thy single market-money for it Joyn hands with God to make a man to live Give to all something to a good poore man Till thou change names and be where he began Man is Gods image but a poore man is Christs stamp to boot both images regard God reckons for him counts the favour his Write So much giv'n to God thou shalt be heard Let thy almes go before and keep heav'ns gate Open for thee or both may come too late Restore to God his due in tithe and time A tithe purloin'd cankers the whole estate Sundaies observe think when the bells do chime 'T is angels musick therefore come not late God then deals blessings If a king did so Who would not haste nay give to see the show Twice on the day his due is understood For all the week thy food so oft he gave thee Thy cheere is mended bate not of the food Because 't is better and perhaps may save thee Thwart not th' Almighty God O be not crosse Fast when thou wilt but then 't is gain not losse Though private prayer be a brave designe Yet publick hath more promises more love And love 's a weight to hearts to eies a signe We all are but cold suitours let us move Where it is warmest Leave thy six and seven Pray with the most for where most pray is heaveâ— When once thy foot enters the church be bare God is more there then thou for thou art there Onely by his permission Then beware And make thy self all reverence and fear Kneeling ne're spoil'd silk stocking quit thy state All equall are within the churches gate Resort to sermons but to prayers most Praying 's the end of preaching O be drest Stay not for th' other pin why thou hast lost A joy for it worth worlds Thus hell doth jest Away thy blessings and extreamly flout thee Thy clothes being fast but thy soul loose about thee In time of service seal up both thine eies And send them to thine heart that spying sinne Thâ—y may weep out the stains by them did rise Those doores being shut all by the eare comes in Who marks in church-time others symmetrie Makes all their beautie his deformitie Let vain or busie thoughts have there no part Bring not thy plough thy plots thy pleasures thither Christ purg'd his temple so must thou thy heart All worldly thoughts are but theeves met together To couzin thee Look to thy actions well For churches are either our heav'n or hell Judge not the preacher for he is thy Judge If thou mislike him thou conceiv'st him not God calleth preaching folly Do not grudge To pick out treasures from an earthen pot The worst speak something good if all want sense God takes a text and preacheth patience He that gets patience and the blessing which Preachers conclude with hath not lost his pains He that by being at church escapes the ditch Which he might fall in by companions gains He that loves Gods abode and to combine With saints on earth shall one day with them shine Jest not at preachers language or expression How know'st thou but thy sinnes made him miscarrie Then turn thy faults and his into confession God sent him whatsoe're he be O tarry And love him for his Master his condition Though it be ill makes him no ill Physician None shall in hell such bitter pangs endure As those who mock at Gods way of salvation Whom oil and balsames kill what salve can cure They drink with greedinesse a full damnation The Jews refused thunder and we folly Though God do hedge us in yet who is holy Summe up at night what thou hast done by day And in the morning what thou hast to do Dresse and undresse thy soul mark the decay And growth of it if with thy watch that too Be down then winde up both since we shall be Most surely judg'd make thy accounts agree In brief acquit thee bravely play the man Look not on pleasures as they come but go Deferre not the least vertue lifes poore span Make not an ell by trifling in thy wo. If thou do ill the joy fades not the pains If well the pain doth fade the joy remains Superliminare THou whom the former precepts have Sprinkled and taught how to behave Thy self in church approach and taste The churches mysticall repast AVoid profanenesse come not here Nothing but holy pure and cleare Or that which groneth to be so May at his perill further go The Altar A broken ALTAR Lord thy servant reaâ— Made of a heart and cemented with teâ—â— Whose parts are as thy hand did frame No workmans tool hath touch'd the same A HEART alone Is such a stone As nothing but Thy pow'r doth cut Wherefore each part Of my hard heart Meets in this frame To praise thy name That if I chance to hold my peace These stones to praise thee may not cease O let thy blessed SACRIFICE be miâ— And sanctifie this ALTAR to be thâ—◠¶ The Sacrifice OH all ye who passe by whose eyes and minde To worldly things are sharp but to me blinde To me who took eyes that I might you finde Was ever grief like mine The Princes of my people make a head Against their Maker they do wish me dead Who cannot wish except I give them bread Was ever grief like mine Without me each one who doth now me brave Had to this day been an Egyptian slave They use that power against me which I gave Was ever grief like mine Mine own Apostle who the bag did beare Though he had all I had did not forbeare To sell me also and to put me there Was ever grief c. For thirtie pence he did my death devise Who at three hundred did the ointment prize Not half so sweet as my sweet sacrifice Was ever grief c. Therefore my soul melts and my hearts deare treasure Dâ—ops bloud the onely beads my words to measure O â—et this cup passe if it be thy pleasure Was ever grief c. â—hese drops being
houre Of my whole life one grief devoure That thy distresse through all may runne And be my sunne Or rather let My severall sinnes their sorrows get That as each beast his cure doth know Each sinne may so Since bloud is fittest Lord to write Thy sorrows in and bloudie sight My heart hath store write there where in One box doth lie both ink and sinne That when sinne spies so many foes Thy whips thy nails thy wounds thy woes All come to lodge there sinne may say No room for me and flie away Sinne being gone oh fill the place And keep possession with thy grace Lest sinne take courage and return And all the writings blot or burn ¶ Redemption HAving been tenant long to a rich Lord Not thriving I resolved to be bold And make a suit unto him to afford A new small-rented lease and cancell th' old In heaven at his manour I him sought They told me there that he was lately gone About some land which he had dearly bought Long since on earth to take possession I straight return'd and knowing his great birth Sought him accordingly in great resorts In cities theatres gardens parks and courts At length I heard a ragged noise and mirth Of theeves and murderers there I him espiedâ— Who straight Your suit is granted said die◠¶ Sepulchre O Blessed bodie Whither art thou thrown No lodging for thee but a cold hard stone So many hearts on earth and yet not one Receive thee Sure there is room within our hearts good store For they can lodge transgressions by the score Thousands of toyes dwell there yet out of doore They leave thee But that which shews them large shews them unfit What ever sinne did this pure rock commit Which holds thee now Who hath indited it Of murder Where our hard hearts have took up stones to brain thee And missing this most falsly did arraigne thee Onely these stones in quiet entertain thee And order And as of old the law by heav'nly art Was writ in stone so thou which also art The letter of the word find'st no fit heart To hold thee Yet do we still persist as we began And so should perish but that nothing can Though it be cold hard foul from loving man Withold thee ¶ Easter RIse heart thy Lord is risen Sing his praise Without delayes â—ho takes thee by the hand that thou likewise With him mayst rise â—hat as his death calcined thee to dust â—is life may make thee gold and much more just â—wake my lute and struggle for thy part With all thy art The crosse taught all wood to resound his name Who bore the same â—is streched sinews taught all strings what key 〈◊〉 best to celebrate this most high day Consort both heart and lute and twist a song Pleasant and long Or since all musick is but three parts vied And multiplied O let thy blessed Spirit bear a part And make up our defects with his sweet art 〈◊〉 got me flowers to straw thy way 〈◊〉 got me boughs off many a tree But thou wast up by break of day And brought'st thy sweets along with thee The Sunne arising in the East Though he give light th' East perfume If they should offer to contest With thy arising they presume Can there be any day but this Though many sunnes to shine endeavour We count three hundred but we misse There is but one and that one ever ¶ Easter wings Lord who createdst man in wealth and store Though foolishly he lost the same Decaying more and more Till he became Most poore With thee O let me rise As larks harmoniously And sing this day thy victories Then shall the fall further the flight in me ¶ Easter wings My tender age in sorrow did beginne And still with sicknesses and shame Thou didst so punish sinne That I became Most thinne With thee Let me combine And feel this day thy victorie For if I imp my wing on thine Affliction shall advance the flight in me ¶ H. Baptisme AS he that sees a dark and shadie grove Stayes not but looks beyond it on the skie So when I view my sinnes mine eyes remove More backward still and to that water flie Which is above the heav'ns whose spring and rent Is in my deare Redeemers pierced side O blessed streams either ye do prevent And stop our sinnes from growing thick and wide Or else give tears to drown them as they grow In you Redemption measures all my time And spreads the plaister equall to the crime You taught the book of life my name that so What ever future sinnes should me miscall Your first acquaintance might discredit all ¶ H. Baptisme SInce Lord to thee A narrow way and little gate Is all the passage on my infancie Thou didst lay hold and antedate My faith in me O let me still Write thee great God and me a childe Let me be soft and supple to thy will Small to my self to others milde Behither ill Although by stealth My flesh get on yet let her sister My soul bid nothing but preserve her wealth The growth of flesh is but a blister Childhood is health ¶ Nature FUll of rebellion I would die Or fight or travell or denie That thou hast ought to do with me O tame my heart It is thy highest art To captivate strong holds to thee â—f thou shalt let this venome lurk And in suggestions fume and work My soul will turn to bubbles straight And thence by kinde Vanish into a winde Making thy workmanship deceit O smooth my rugged heart and there Engrave thy rev'rend law and fear Or make a new one since the old Is saplesse grown And a much fitter stone To hide my dust then thee to hold ¶ Sinne. LOrd with what care hast thou begirt us round Parents first season us then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws they send us bound To rules of reason holy messengers Pulpits and sundayes sorrow dogging sinne Afflictions sorted anguish of all sizes Fine nets and stratâ—gems to catch us in Bibles laid open millions of surprises Blessings beforehand tyes of gratefulnesse The sound of glorie ringing in our eares Without our shame within our consciences Angels and grace eternall hopes and fears Yet all these fences and their whole aray One cunning bosome-sinne blows quite away ¶ Affliction WHen first thou didst entice to thee my heart I thought the service brave So many joyes I writ down for my part Besides what I might have Out of my stock of naturall delights Augmented with thy gracious benefits I looked on thy furniture so fine And made it fine to me Thy glorious houshold-stuffe did me entwine And ' tice me unto thee Such starres I counted mine both heav'n and earth Payd me my wages in a world of mirth What pleasures could I want whose King I served Where joyes my fellows were Thus argu'd into hopes my thoughts reserved No place for grief or fear Therefore my sudden soul caught at the place And made her
youth and fiercenesse seek thy face At first thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses I had my wish and way My dayes were straw'd with flow'rs and happinesse There was no moneth but May. But with my yeares sorrow did twist and grow And made a partie unawares for wo. â—y flesh began unto my soul in pain Sicknesses cleave my bones â—onsuming agues dwell in ev'ry vein And tune my breath to grones â—orrow was all my soul I scarce beleeved â—ill grief did tell me roundly that I lived â—hen I got health thou took'st away my life And more for my friends die â—y mirth and edge was lost a blunted knife Was of more use then I. Thus thinne and lean without a fence or friend â—was blown through with ev'ry storm and winde Whereas my birth and spirit rather took The way that takes the town Thou didst betray me to a lingring book And wrap me in a gown I was entangled in the world of strife Before I had the power to change my life Yet for I threatned oft the siege to raise Not simpring all mine age Thou often didst with Academick praise Melt and dissolve my rage I took thy sweetned pill till I came neare I could not go away nor persevere Yet left perchance I should too happie be In my unhappinesse Turning my purge to food thou throwest me Into more sicknesses Thus doth thy power crosse-bias me not making Thine own gift good yet me from my wayes taking Now I am here what thou wilt do with me None of my books will show I reade and sigh and wish I were a tree For sure then I should grow To fruit or shade at least some bird would trust Her houshold to me and I should be just Yet though thou troublest me I must be meek In weaknesse must be stout Well I will change the service and go seek Some other master out Ah my deare God! though I am clean forgot Let me not love thee if I love thee not ¶ Repentance LOrd I confesse my sinne is great Great is my sinne Oh! gently treat With thy quick flow'r thy moment anie bloom Whose life still pressing Is one undressing A steadie aiming at a tombe Mans age is two houres work or three Each day doth round about us see Thus are we to delights but we are all To sorrows old If life be told From what life feeleth Adams fall O let thy height of mercie then Compassionate short-breathed men Cut me not off for my most foul transgression I do confesse My foolishnesse My God accept of my confession Sweeten at length this bitter bowl Which thou hast pour'd into my soul â—hy wormwood turn to health windes to fair weather For if thou stay I and this day As we did rise we die together When thou for sinne rebukest man Forthwith he waxeth wo and wan Bitternesse fills our bowels all our hearts Pine and decay And drop away And carrie with them th' other parts But thou wilt sinne and grief destroy That so the broken bones may joy And tune together in a well-set song Full of his praises Who dead men raises Fractures well cur'd make us more strong ¶ Faith LOrd how couldst thou so much appease Thy wrath for sinne as when mans sight was dimme And could see little to regard his ease And bring by Faith all things to him Hungrie I was and had no meat â— did conceit a most delicious feast â— had it straight and did as truly eat As ever did a welcome guest There is a rare outlandish root Which when I could not get I thought it here That apprehension cur'd so well my foot That I can walk to heav'n well neare I owed thousands and much more I did beleeve that I did nothing owe And liv'd accordingly my creditor Beleeves so too and lets me go Faith makes me any thing or all That I beleeve is in the sacred storie And where sinne placeth me in Adams fall Faith sets me higher in his glorie If I go lower in the book What can be lower then the common manger Faith puts me there with him who sweetly took Our flesh and frailtie death and danger If blisse had lien in art or strength None but the wise or strong had gained it Where now by Faith all arms are of a length One size doth all conditions fit A peasant may beleeve as much As a great Clerk and reach the highest stature Thus dost thou make proud knowledge bend crouâ— While grace fills up uneven nature When creatures had no reall light Inherent in them thou didst make the sunne Impute a lustre and allow them bright And in this shew what Christ hath done That which before was darkned clean With bushie groves pricking the lookers eie Vanisht away when Faith did change the scene And then appear'd a glorious skie What though my bodie runne to dust Faith cleaves unto it counting evr'y grain With an exact and most particular trust Reserving all for flesh again ¶ Prayer PRayer the Churches banquet Angels age Gods breath in man returning to his birth The soul in paraphrase heart in pilgrimage â—he Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth â—â—gine against th' Almightie sinners towre Reversed thunder Christ-side-piercing spear The six-daies world-transposing in an houre A kinde of tune which all things heare and fear Softnesse and peace and joy and love and blisse Exalted Manna gladnesse of the best Heaven in ordinarie man well drest The milkie way the bird of Paradise Church-bels beyond the starres heard the souls bloud The land of spices something understood ¶ The H. Communion NOt in rich furniture or fine aray Nor in a wedge of gold Thou who from me wast sold To me dost now thy self convey For so thou should'st without me still have been Leaving within me sinne But by the way of nourishment and strengh Thou creep'st into my breast Making thy way my rest And thy small quantities my length Which spread their forces into every part Meeting sinnes force and art Yet can these not get over to my soul Leaping the wall that parts Our souls and fleshly hearts But as th' outworks they may controll My rebel-flesh and carrying thy name Affright both sinne and shame Onely thy grace which with these elements comes Knoweth the ready way And hath the privie key Op'ning the souls most subtile rooms While those to spirits refin'd at doore attend Dispatches from their friend Give me my captive soul or take My bodie also thither Another lift like this will make Them both to be together Before that sinne turn'd flesh to stone And all our lump to leaven A fervent sigh might well have blown Our innocent earth to heaven For sure when Adam did not know To sinne or sinne to smother He might to heav'n from Paradise go As from one room t'another Thou hast restor'd us to this ease By this thy heav'nly bloud Which I can go to when I please And leave th' earth to their food ¶ Antiphon Cho. LEt all the world
take or be withstood Wherefore I all forgo To one word onely I say No Where in the deed there was an intimation Of a gift or donation Lord let it now by way of purchase go He that will passe his land As I have mine may set his hand And heart unto this deed when he hath read And make the purchase spread To both our goods if he to it will stand How happie were my part If some kinde man would thrust his heart Into these lines till in heav'ns court of rolls They were by winged souls Entred for both farre above their desert ¶ Conscience PEace pratler do not lowre Not a fair look but thou dost call it foul Not a sweet dish but thou dost call it sowre Musick to thee doth howl By listning to thy chatting fears I have both lost mine eyes and eares Pratler no more I say My thoughts must work but like a noiselesse sphere Harmonious peace must rock them all the day No room for pratlers there If thou persistest I will tell thee That I have physick to expell thee And the receit shall be My Saviours bloud when ever at his board I do but taste it straight it cleanseth me And leaves thee not a word No not a tooth or nail to scratch And at my actions carp or catch Yet if thou talkest still Besides my physick know there 's some for thee Some wood and nails to make a staffe or bill For those that trouble me The bloudie crosse of my deare Lord Is both my physick and my sword ¶ Sion LOrd with what glorie wast thou serv'd of old When Solomons temple stood and flourished Where most things were of purest gold The wood was all embellished With flowers and carvings mysticall and rare All show'd the builders crav'd the seers care Yet all this glorie all this pomp and state Did not affect thee much was not thy aim Something there was that sow'd debate Wherefore thou quitt'st thy ancient claim And now thy Architecture meets with sinne For all thy frame and fabrick is within There thou art struggling with a peevish heart Which sometimes crosseth thee thou sometimes it The fight is hard on either part Great God doth fight he doth submit All Solomons sea of brasse and world of stone Is not so deare to thee as one good grone And truly brasse and stones are heavie things Tombes for the dead not temples fit for thee But grones are quick and full of wings And all their motions upward be And ever as they mount like larks they sing The note is sad yet musick for a king ¶ Home COme Lord my head doth burn my heart is sick While thou dost ever ever stay Thy long deferrings wound me to the quick My spirit gaspeth night and day O shew thy self to me Or take me up to thee How canst thou stay considering the pace The bloud did make which thou didst waste When I behold it trickling down thy face I never saw thing make such haste O show thy self to me Or take me up to thee When man was lost thy pitie lookt about To see what help in th' earth or skie But there was none at least no help without The help did in thy bosome lie O show thy c. There lay thy sonne and must he leave that nest That hive of sweetnesse to remove Thraldome from those who would not at a feast Leave one poore apple for thy love O show thy c. He did he came O my Redeemer deare After all this canst thou be strange So many yeares baptiz'd and not appeare As if thy love could fail or change O show thy c. Yet if thou stayest still why must I stay My God what is this world to me This world of wo hence all ye clouds away Away I must get up and see O show thy c. What is this weary world this meat and drink That chains us by the teeth so fast What is this woman-kinde which I can wink Into a blacknesse and distaste O show thy c. With one small sigh thou gav'st me th' other day I blasted all the joyes about me And scouling on them as they pin'd away Now come again said I and flout me O show thy self to me Or take me up to thee Nothing but drought and dearth but bush and brake Which way so-e're I look I see Some may dream merrily but when they wake They dresse themselves and come to thee O show thy c. We talk of harvests there are no such things But when we leave our corn and hay There is no fruitfull yeare but that which brings The last and lov'd though dreadfull day O show thy c. Oh loose this frame this knot of man untie That my free soul may use her wing Which now is pinion'd with mortalitie As an intangled hamper'd thing O show thy c. What have I left that I should stay and grone The most of me to heav'n is fled My thoughts and joyes are all packt up and gone And for their old acquaintance plead O show thy c. Come dearest Lord passe not this holy season My flesh and bones and joynts do pray And ev'n my verse when by the ryme and reason The word is Stay sayes ever Come O show thy c. ¶ The British Church I Joy deare Mother when I view Thy perfect lineaments and hue Both sweet and bright Beautie in thee takes up her place And dates her letters from thy face When she doth write A fine aspect in fit aray Neither too mean nor yet too gay Shows who is best Outlandish looks may not compare For all they either painted are Or else undrest She on the hills which wantonly Allureth all in hope to be By her preferr'd Hath kiss'd so long her painted shrines That ev'n her face by kissing shines For her reward She in the valley is so shie Of dressing that her hair doth lie About her eares While she avoids her neighbours pride She wholly goes on th' other side And nothing wears But dearest Mother what those misse The mean thy praise and glorie is And long may be Blessed be God whose love it was To double-moat thee with his grace And none but thee ¶ The Quip THe merrie world did on a day With his train-bands and mates agree To meet together where I lay And all in sport to geere at me First Beautie crept into a rose Which when I pluckt not Sir said she Tell me I pray Whose hands are those But thou shalt answer Lord for me Then Money came and chinking still What tune is this poore man said he I heard in Musick you had skill But thou shalt answer Lord for me Then came brave Glorie puffing by In silks that whistled who but he He scarce allow'd me half an eie But thou shalt answer Lord for me Then came quick Wit and Conversation And he would needs a comfort be And to be short make an oration But thou shalt answer Lord for me
Yet when the houre of thy designe To answer these fine things shall come Speak not at large say I am thine And then they have their answer home ¶ Vanitie POore silly soul whose hope and head lies low Whose flat delights on earth do creep and grow To whom the starres shine not so fair as eyes Nor solid work as false embroyderies Heark and beware lest what you now do measure And write for sweet prove a most sowre displeasure O heare betimes lest thy relenting May come too late To purchase heaven for repenting Is no hard rate If souls be made of earthly mold Let them love gold If born on high Let them unto their kindred flie For they can never be at rest Till they regain their ancient nest Then silly soul take heed for earthly joy Is but a bubble and makes thee a boy ¶ The Dawning AWake sad heart whom sorrow ever drowns Take up thine eyes which feed on earth Unfold thy forehead gather'd into frowns Thy Saviour comes and with him mirth Awake awake And with a thankfull heart his comforts take But thou dost still lament and pine and crie And feel his death but not his victorie Arise sad heart if thou dost not withstand Christs resurrection thine may be Do not by hanging down break from the hand Which as it riseth raiseth thee Arise arise And with his buriall-linen drie thine eyes Christ left his grave-clothes that we might when grief Draws tears or bloud not want an handkerchief ¶ JESU JESU is in my heart his sacred name Is deeply carved there but th' other week A great affliction broke the little frame Ev'n all to pieces which I went to seek And first I found the corner where was I After where ES and next where V was graved When I had got these parcels instantly I sat me down to spell them and perceived That to my broken heart he was I ease you And to my whole is IESV ¶ Businesse CAnst be idle canst thou play Foolish soul who sinn'd to day Rivers run and springs each one Know their home and get them gone Hast thou tears or hast thou none If poore soul thou hast no tears Would thou hadst no faults or fears Who hath these those ill forbears Windes still work it is their plot Be the season cold or hot Hast thou sighs or hast thou not If thou hast no sighs or grones Would thou hadst no flesh and bones Lesser pains scape greater ones But if yet thou idle be Foolish soul Who di'd for thee Who did leave his Fathers throne To assume thy flesh and bone Had he life or had he none If he had not liv'd for thee Thou hadst di'd most wretchedly And two deaths had been thy fee. He so farre thy good did plot That his own self he forgot Did he die or did he not If he had not di'd for thee Thou hadst liv'd in miserie Two lives worse then ten deaths be And hath any space of breath 'Twixt his sinnes and Saviours death He that loseth gold though drosse Tells to all he meets his crosse He that sinnes hath he no losse He that findes a silver vein Thinks on it and thinks again Brings thy Saviours death no gain Who in heart not ever kneels Neither sinne nor Saviour feels ¶ Dialogue SWeetest Saviour if my soul Were but worth the having Quickly should I then controll Any thought of waving But when all my care and pains Cannot give the name of gains To thy wretch so full of stains What delight or hope remains What childe is the ballance thine Thine the poise and measure If I say Thou shalt be mine Finger not my treasure What the gains in having thee Do amount to onely he Who for man was sold can see That transferr'd th' accounts to me But as I can see no merit Leading to this favour So the way to fit me for it Is beyond my savour As the reason then is thine So the way is none of mine I disclaim the whole designe Sinne disclaims and I resigne That is all if that I could Get without repining And my clay my creature would Follow my resigning That as I did freely part With my glorie and desert Left all joyes to feel all smart Ah! no more thou break'st my heart ¶ Dulnesse WHy do I languish thus drooping and dull As if I were all earth O give me quicknesse that I may with mirth Praise thee brim-full The wanton lover in a curious strain Can praise his fairest fair And with quaint metaphors her curled hair Curl o're again Thou art my lovelinesse my life my light Beautie alone to me Thy bloudy death and undeserv'd makes thee Pure red and white When all perfections as but one appeare That those thy form doth show The very dust where thou dost tread and go Makes beauties here Where are my lines then my approaches views Where are my window-songs Lovers are still pretending ev'n wrongs Sharpen their Muse But I am lost in flesh whose sugred lyes Still mock me and grow bold Sure thou didst put a minde there if I could Finde where it lies Lord cleare thy gift that with a constant wit I may but look towards thee Look onely for to love thee who can be What angel fit ¶ Love-joy AS on a window late I cast mine eye I saw a vine drop grapes with I and C Anneal'd on every bunch One standing by Ask'd what it meant I who am never loth To spend my iudgement said It seem'd to me To be the bodie and the letters both Of Ioy and Charitie Sir you have not miss'd The man reply'd It figures IESVS CHRIST ¶ Providence O Sacred Providence who from end to end Strongly and sweetly movest shall I write And not of thee through whom my fingers bend To hold my quill shall they not do thee right Of all the creatures both in sea and land Onely to Man thou hast made known thy wayes And put the penne alone into his hand And made him Secretarie of thy praise Beasts fain would sing birds dittie to their notes Trees would be tuning on their native lute To thy renown but all their hands and throats Are brought to Man while they are lame and mute Man is the worlds high Priest he doth present The sacrifice for all while they below Unto the service mutter an assent Such as springs use that fall and windes that blow He that to praise and laud thee doth refrain Doth not refrain unto himself alone But robs a thousand who would praise thee fain And doth commit a world of sinne in one The beasts say Eat me but if beasts must teach The tongue is yours to eat but mine to praise The trees say Pull me but the hand you stretch Is mine to write as it is yours to raise Wherefore most sacred Spirit I here present For me and all my fellows praise to thee And just it is that I should pay the rent Because the benefit accrues to me We all