The canticles or Balades of Salomon phraselyke declared in Englysh Metres, by William Baldwin |
I. |
II. |
The .ii. Chapter
|
xii. |
xiii. |
xiiii. |
xv. |
xvi. |
xvii. |
xviii. |
xix. |
xx. |
xxi. |
xxii. |
xxiii. |
III. |
IIII. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
The .ii. Chapter
The canticles or Balades of Salomon | ||
II. The .ii. Chapter
xii. Christe to his Spouse.
The argument.
Christ hauyng heard his Spouse prayse him for his bewtie and fauour through whiche she was made bewtifull and obtayned the bed of peace, and house in the last song declared, calleth nowe to mynde his humanitie: whiche after he hath euidently declared, he taketh therof a new occasion to prayse his Churche, syngyng.
That springeth alone, vnset:
Whome Mary brought furth fleshly,
Though man dyd me not beget,
Nor set.
Whiche once beyng rype, doeth dye:
But as the violet hath power
Whose flower smelleth moste swetely,
So I.
The glorious beautie bryght
Of the humble, who as vallies,
Ly low, doubtyng of theyr myght
To ryse.
Whome hilles set aloft, doe hyde:
I Christe for the more part grow,
By fayth in them I abyde,
Not slow.
Am fayer, so art thou my Spouse:
For as Lilies whyte and read
In beautie far passe the bowes
Of thorne,
In fayth other daughters borne:
To pricke thee muche wurse than thorne,
With howes.
xiii. The Spouse to her Beloued.
The Argument.
Because Christe compared his Spouse to a flower, she compareth hym agayne to an Apple tree, syngyng.
But thou that art so good:
For I am scarce a flower,
Where thou art very frute.
For as among the trees
That wylde grow in the wood,
By nature sharp and sower,
The Apple tree not brute
But pure, is of great price:
So thou Beloued of me,
Among the sonnes of God,
Sprites, Angels, soules, and men,
Art principall in power.
For all obey to thee,
By scripture vnforbod
To wurshyp where and when,
Thy name at euery hower,
With bowyng of theyr knees.
xiiii. The Churche to the Younglinges.
The Argument.
The Churche hauyng compared Christe to an apple tree, declareth to the Younglynges the cause why she so dyd, swetely syngyng as foloweth.
Who is the apple tree of lyfe:
Haue sit doune in his Shade below,
Whiche is his help and refuge ryfe.
For all that truly therin trust:
In whiche to sit for them is best,
Who to fynde rest in soule, doe lust.
Of Christes helpe, there dyd I eate
The frute therof, Gods sprite, whiche made
Me feele the taste of Manna meat.
Vnto my Throte, whyle I it chew:
That doune I fall at Christes fete,
For this his foœd, high thankes to shew.
And trusted whole in power diuine:
Than dyd he lead me lyke a Kyng,
Was well refresht, my Kyng set vp
His standard strong, whiche is his loue,
For me, and all that taste his cup.
xv. The Spouse to the Younglynges
The Argument.
The Churche beyng in the wyne seller of Goddes hollye wurde, and seyng therin the banner of his loue whiche he displayed for her, whan he gaue vp his body to the crosse, & suffered with horrible payne and panges of death, his blud to be shed and powred furth, only for her sake, to pourge and cleanse her from all spot and wrincle, and to make her of his foule enemie his fayer Spouse, is so rauished with beholding his mercy, that desirous to haue all people loue hym she brasteth furth in her panges, syngyng to the Younglinges.
Of loue, whiche Kriste my Kyng
Hath reard for those that been
The flocke whome he woulde bryng
To loue.
Doeth flambe in lyke desyer,
And languisshing all whole
Is fiercely set on fyer,
With loue.
With flowers beset me thicke:
Ye faythfull make me strong,
For loe how I am sicke
For loue.
Gods wurd the lyuely quicke:
With gyftes moste plentiful
Of grace, for I am sycke
Of Loue:
That all mought saued be:
That all that wander wrong
Myght cleaue to Christe and me,
By Loue.
xvi. The Spouse to the Younglynges.
The Argument.
So feruent is the Churches zeale to bring all creatures to the loue of her Beloued, that it causeth the wycked, and suche as hate the truthe, to persecute her: whiche also for a whyle Christ suffereth, to trye whether she be constant in the truthe or no. Whiche she knowyng welynough, exhorteth the Younglynges not to be afrayed though the malice of manne for a tyme seeme to preuayle: and to cumfort them the more, allegeth that it cummeth not agaynst her Beloueds wyll, but purposely by the prouidence of God, whatsoeuer tribulacion she suffer: and that at length she shall haue the victorie ouer all her enemies.
His left hande of aduersitie,
To proue yf I woulde be afrayed
His truth moste true to testifie
Continually.
To trye me oft and diuersly
To see yf malice may preuayle
To make me leaue hym peruersly,
Continually
In wurth I take all louyngly:
Beyng for Christes sake addict
To suffre al paynes wyllyngly,
Continually.
May turne my trust to victorie:
For why his ryght hande wyll embrace
His Churche with all prosperitie,
Continually.
xvii. Christe to the Younglynges.
The Argument.
I charge ye all bothe by the Roes and Hyndes,
The spirites of Angels, bryghter than the gem,
And in your help far swyfter than the wyndes:
To help the good that in my churche do dwell:
By these I charge you, as ye wyll they yield
Theyr seruice due, to saue and kepe you wel,
The Churche my Spouse, that resteth in my lap:
With vayne beleues, whiche flesly braynes doe make
For snafflyng snares my faythful to betrap.
She wake her self, compelled by the zeale
She bearth to you, to leade you to the Lorde
That only can your soules sore wounded, heale.
xviii. The Spouse to the Younglynges.
The Argument.
The Church hearyng Christe geue so strayte charge that none wake her, knoweth so well his voyce, that she affirmeth it to be his. And that it may the better be regarded, she declareth to the younglynges what he is that hath geuen the charge, syngyng.
For I doe know his voyce in dede:
Whiche causeth me muche to reioyce,
That he, to me, wyll take suche hede.
And daunseth doune the dales by stealth:
Whiche in his flesh al maner ylles
And scorne, hath borne, to geue me health.
His Spouse to help in tyme of nede,
Is swyft as Angel, Roe or Hynde:
But much, more ruche, in makyng spede.
Our flesh, that doeth the soule diuyde
From God the good, through Adams fall:
Whose sin, within our flesh doeth byde.
Doeth pepe and looke in at our grate,
To bend, and mend our woful state.
xix. The Churche to the Younglinges.
The Argument.
The Churche whome no man may wake vp, but her Beloued, asketh hym continually what she shal doe: And whan he hath made her an answer, she publysheth it to the Younglynges, syngyng.
I aske what wurke, he wyll I doe,
Made answer thus without delay,
And louely spake me to:
Aryse, arise.
Make haste, whome I haue made so fayer:
And cum to me, I wyll thee sende
My flocke for to repayre.
Aryse, arise.
xx. Christe to his Spouse.
The Argument.
Christe seyng hys Spouse ready to ryse, encourageth her to make great haste: and exhortyng her to preache, declareth howe bothe the tyme and place is nowe fit therefore, openly syngyng.
The stormes lykewyse of blyndnes, and of trust
In mannes deuice, the whiche dyd ouercast
The truth, are goen: are knowen to be but rust.
In the erth, our lande, in beautie bud and bloome:
So that the tyme for whiche thou long didst lust,
The syngyng tyme, the tyme to preache is cum.
The wurd of God sincerely as it ought
Was heard abrode in our landes litle coast,
And as it shoulde, effectually hath wrought.
The budded vines haue yelded out theyr smel:
The faythfull folke to whom my truth was tought,
In fayth and wurkes, excedyngly excell.
Make haste, make spede, purely my wurde to preache:
And cum to me, cum, cum to me my doue,
To whome I geue myne holy goste to teache.
Cum to the hoales, the merites of my death:
Cum to the hyd degrees of fayth, that reache
To perfectnes, assisted by my breath.
Thy voyce aloude, lyke thunder in the ayer.
Thy preachyng voyce is pleasaunt to myne ear,
And in myne iye thy face is very fayer.
xxi. Christ to his Spouse.
The Argument.
Whyles the Church accordyng to Christes commaundement, preacheth remission of sinnes, through fayth in his blud, death and merites, false Apostles seyng the people ready to receyue what soeuer is taught, fayne themselues to be the Spouses healpers: and vnder that title deceyuyng the simple rude soules, preach for theyr profit, theyr own dremes and inuencions: promisyng merit and satisfaccion for supersticious wylwurkes. Whiche Christe perceyuyng, geueth his Spouse warnyng of them: & streytly chargyng her to preach agaynst them: syngeth.
Those young litle foxes whiche flatter my youth:
Teache them to preache true my wurd that is hollie:
And stroy not my vineyardes.
And through theyr false faynyng to lead men awry,
Wastyng my vineyard, my people most holly:
Therfore catche them quickly, that they by theyr folly,
Destroy not my vineyardes.
In bryngyng furth bourgeons the whiche wyll be good:
Catche then these foxes ye preachers most holly,
Least by theyr flattring and false fayned folly,
They stroy al my vineyardes.
xxii. The Spouse to the Younglynges
The argument.
The Spouse consyderyng the carefulnes that her Beloued taketh for her and her maydens, admonisheth them therof: and declaring what loue she beareth hym agayne, and wyll doe euer, syngeth.
Among the flowers, hauyng delyght
Among his faythful lilies:
And I agayne with all my myght
Wyll do what so his wyl is.
Conioynde by loue wyll styl abyde
Among the faythful lilies:
All shadowes darke, and cause them slyde
Accordyng as his wil is.
xxiii. The Spouse to Christe.
The argument.
The Church accordyng to Christes commaundment, goeth about to catch the foxes: admonishing them of theyr wikednes, and shewyng what hurt they do to the Lordes vineyardes with preachyng theyr own dreamed diuices, & supersticious wurkes: charitably exhortyng them to ceasse from peruertyng the people, and abusyng the holy scriptures. But the foxes are so proude, stubberne and stoute, that they wyll not yelde: but wylfully resist styl the truth. Wherfore she supposing that God hath geuen them ouer by withdrawing his grace from them, instauntly prayeth her Beloued to returne vnto them: and to mollifie theyr hardened heartes, that they may repent and be saued: syngyng.
And geue them grace, for lacke wherof they erre:
Cum swyft my Loue, lyke to a Roe and hynde,
Vpon these proude, these mountaynes of Bather.
Of stomake haute, with troubles vexed sore:
But meken them, and make them cum to me,
Whiche soone shall be, if thou thy grace restore.
The .ii. Chapter
The canticles or Balades of Salomon | ||