The Muses Sacrifice :: :: University of Virginia Library

Thou Eld of Dayes, teach me my dayes to count,
(deare Lord) mine End, learn me mine end to know;
That of the same I may yeeld iust account,
These secrets (Lord) to me, in secret, show.
To thinke of long life, is, in death, to liue;
To think of Death',s long life, which Death doth giue.

My Time is in thy hands; then It display,
That I may know It, so to vse It well:
A thousand yeeres, with thee, is scarse a day;
But they are more with me then Time can tell:
In twice fiue Ages, Time can tell no more,
Then, no Mans time thrice trebl'd, tels such store.

Are not my Dayes few? and mine end at hand,
Whose life is like the shadow of a Dreame?
What Substance is't, by which such shadowes stand?
Is't ought but Nothing, in the great'st extreame?

[26]

If lesse then Nothing then, 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 Lesse:
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;

[27]

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, tis 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?

[28]

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 misse;
Yet still holds on that Course, by course of kinde:
Agent and Patient tis, 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 Mill-stone) with the softest things:
As fleshly lusts, and vaine Ioyes ouer-ioyde;
And with that harts-ease which most torment brings
So, that my Heart, to them, my Heart betraies,
And all, to spoile it, seeke by all assaies.

It is the Shop where base Affections frame
The Embrion of Sinne; which, growing great,
Breakes out to Action, to the Actors shame;
Vnlesse thy Deed (ô Lord) the Deed defeate:

[29]

Then in the heart, the Seate of Peace and Life,
I finde the certain'st Death, the surest strife!

Lord help, Lord help me to subdue my Heart,
Before these Foes my Heart doe quite o'er-throw:
O let it labour with a World of smart,
It selfe to conquer, and it selfe to know:
They that so fight, great Hearts, and Glory haue;
Then let me fight, my Fame and Heart to saue.

To saue my Heart, which, though it little be;
Yet nought but thine owne Greatnesse can suffice:
For tis a Kingdome onely made for thee;
Though Traitors to thee, doe it oft surprise;
But chase from thence the traitors to thy Crowne,
That thou maist still, in peace, possesse thine owne.

O take away these Scandals of thy raigne,
Theeues of thy Glory (most vain-glorious Theeues)
For, Tyrant Pride would be my Soueraigne;
Which (for reiecting her) me euer grieues:
For, Pride (deare Lord) is of that spightfull vaine,
That where she most seekes loue, she most doth paine.

Then Lust, Ire, Enuie, Malice, Scorne, and Hate,
Striue, in me, for me; but, as much as I
Am holp by thee, doe striue to keepe my State
From vsurpation of their Tyranny:
Which freely I surrender vp to thee,
That freely, twice, did render me, to me.

For, I no King recognise but my God
Worthy to sit as Soueraigne in my Heart:
Before all Scepters I adore thy Rod;
Which driues to endlesse pleasure, though it smart.
O then away from mee, yee cursed Crue,
Ye haue no part in me, His onely due.

And come (dear Lord) destroy thē in their strength,
Confound their Councels, all their Drifts defeate;
That I, through thee, may winne my selfe at length
From out their Hands, that make me as their Meate:
And let me (so won) lose my selfe in thee:
Where, to be lost, is still most safe to be.

Giue me (ô Lord) that empire o'er my Heart
That It thy Becke and mine may still obey:
For, that, and more is due to thy desert;
Sith that due is much more then I can pay:
For, I can pay no more then what is mine,
And I haue nought but sinne, but what is thine!

Then as I am oblieg'd thee to obey;
So, Equitie and Profit doe perswade
That I should walke no Way, but in thy Way;
For, that's the Way by which good Men are made:
Then till I goe away for good and all,
Let me runne in this Way, and neuer fall.

For that's to runne that so we may obtaine,
Else get we paine eternall for our paine.

[30]

If many runne, and labour lose,
How easie is't to be of those?