Poems Occasioned by a melancholy vision Or A melancholy vision upon diuers Theames Englarged: Which by seuerall Arguments ensuinge is showed His gaudie musa tenebris: By H. M. [i.e. Humphrey Mill] |
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CONCERNING DEATH.
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 | Poems Occasioned by a melancholy vision |  |
CONCERNING DEATH.
AN INDIGHTMENT Against Death, by Life; being Plaintiffe.
With the Event and Issue thereof.
Death where is thy sting?
1 Cor. 15. 56.
O Death, I will be thy death.
Hosea 13. 14.
The last enemy that shall be destroyed, is Death.
1 Cor. 15. 26.
The Argument in charge to the Muse.
Addresse thy selfe (my Muse) to that sad tale,Of Death, though grim, & ghastly, wan & pale.
His looke, feare not, for I will see thee righted,
Speake bold for life, thou need'st not be affrighted:
Accuse him, answer with a sharp reply,
His vaine defence, and sentenc'd let him dye.
A Plea against Death.
Lord now I have brought Death to be arraign'd,A Traitor he already is proclaim'd
To be against thy sonne: the life of all,
The world that hath been, are, or ever shall,
Remaine on earth: unlesse some course in hand,
Be taken now to cut him from the Land,
O let me never beare thy name in vaine,
To yeeld to Death; my losse he counts his gaine,
Now let this tyrant be by thee destroy'd,
That hath so long so much my peace annoy'd.
An examination of the case, a command to speake their mindes.
What wouldst thou have done to him, speak thy mind?What he hath done that's il, that he shal find.
To him I shall returne againe like measure,
As he did mete, ile open now my treasure
Of wrath and vengeance, and upon him poure,
And he shall know what 'tis life to devoure.
Ile heare you both, now life speake what of Death
Thou know'st; & death why he stroys living breath.
And testimony that about the cause,
You can produce according to my lawes.
For so ile Judge, and give to each his right,
My truth appeare shall in all peoples sight.
The Indightment against Death in generall.
When thou at first didst breath me in (the souleOf man) alive he was, who did controule,
His living state, but death, when he for ever,
Might then have liv'd, with doing his indeavour.
But (fearfull) Death did stare him in the face,
And did his glory, utterly disgrace
His name was fearfull, and men at it bend,
The thoughts of Death brought forth untimely end
To some; the rest that liv'd the course of nature,
The feare of him did weaken so their stature,
That when he came, he had not much to doe,
Halfe dead before, for they were sinfull too,
And captives like, he chain'd them in the grave,
Close prisoners: none out of his hands could save,
Men durst not aske, he kept them so in feare,
He scorn'd to take a courtesie from any,
Nor did regard their teares, though nere so many.
The old mans plaint he never did regard:
The strong mans valour, with death did reward.
The young mans person never did respect,
The infants smiling ever did neglect.
The virgins beauty he did still defie,
The fathers griefe he slighteth presently:
The mothers weeping he did still disable,
Although she mist her children at the table:
The childe though kneeling, begs life for his father.
Then death in fury, saith he'l have him rather,
The loving daughter seekes life for her mother,
But death lookes in, and cries, give me another.
The masters cares considers not a whit,
The servants paines with death, so payes he it.
The Bridegroomes joy he turneth into sorrow,
The Brides delight, to day, he spoyles to morrow.
Or any one that sueth for his friend,
If he grieves much, death brings the sooner end,
On him; but helpes him not a jot, but brings,
On all men death: and kils all other things.
Thy servants Lord, that were by me maintain'd,
In all the world, yet death hath all them gain'd:
And while they had a being here on earth,
They trouble had: but seldome knew what mirth
Through feare of death, a bondage did endure.
At home, abroad, or ever where they went,
They still did thinke, his bow was ever bent:
No comfort in the world then did they take,
Of any thing that God did for them make.
I was to them aburthen, yet they call,
For joy: but then the King of feare spoyl'd all,
And fresh discōfort brought into their harts,
Frighting their mindes; death breeds such inward smarts
The thoughts of death bring out the guilt of sin,
Annoye without, distemper all within,
And to this day, it is his practice still,
With darts of death the bloud of all to spill.
Where as he findes me, he doth hate me so,
His venome spits; and is a cruell foe,
The birds, the beasts, the fish, all that have sense,
A suit of death against him doth commence,
And he by might doth ever get the day,
And as his right he takes them all away,
The plants that live a bare life and no more,
Scarce men can see life in them, 'tis so poore,
Death findes it out, as plainly doth appeare,
And kils their fruit, some once, some twice a yeare:
At last the stock to death must give a place,
For fruit and stocke death doth at last disgrace.
Nay, if there were of persons, or of things,
A world of millions more, he'd use his stings.
His power; then still like a King he'd raigne,
The more he slayes the more he doth desire,
The lower men are, he is rais'd the higher.
He hath confest the ruine of mans life,
Is that he seekes: he gaines, they lose, so strife,
Hath been betwixt us, ever since the first,
I doe perceive; he for mans bloud doth thirst,
Till he himselfe doe die, he'l never cease,
To kill: his name's enough to stroy mans peace.
Against Death in particular.
What have I done, that death should envie me?Was I not made, to quicken men by thee?
Why then should death a greater power have,
I being free, to make me like a slave?
If I doe ill, correct me with thy hand,
But why should Death have me at his command?
Death had his being at the first by sinne,
And as a vassall to him still hath been.
Sinne goes before, then Death he takes his place,
They both conspire against mans living race,
For they agree in all that suits with evill,
And with consent doe gratifie the Devill,
For his device, and subtill slights that he,
Did still invent, brought all to miserie.
And workes for sinne (O this is too too bad)
Rule over all, that goodly worke of thine?
To spoile it too, his malice doth incline.
Shall Sathans worke stand up, thine overthrowne?
Stretch forth thy hād Lord, make thy power known
And from thy Justice, let Death have his due,
The world is witnesse what I speake is true.
A sharpe reproofe of Death, he hath leave to answer for himselfe.
What canst thou say, seeing this is proved so?To all my workes thou shew'st thy selfe a foe.
What canst expect, but hell for thy reward,
Seeing thou to none, hadst never yet regard,
If I did not thy malice now restraine,
The life of all that in the world remaine,
Thou quickly would'st lay levell with the dust,
Though they resist: yet fall through thee they must.
And in the grave thou wouldest beare such sway,
And wish there were a thousand worlds to slay
More; thou would'st all them of their lives bereave,
Speake Death thy minde, I freely give thee leave.
Deaths defence for himselfe.
When God at first, did give to all things being,And life; a will he gave to man agreeing,
Who was appointed to keepe all in awe,
Nor lawlesse was he, God gave him a law,
If he it brake, I was his sentence for it,
If not, he lived: but he did abhorre it.
To be so ty'd, he broke thy Law that day,
Then for reward I was from thee his pay:
I execute what Justice doth decree,
I doe thy worke, for I am rul'd by thee
For by thy word all life must vanish quite,
From all the world: then should not I by right
Take place? what is there on the earth beside,
But life and death, which doth the world divide.
Should I deny, when thou dost bid me goe?
Should I resist, when thou dost presse me so?
To doe thy worke, I ever did my best,
Till it be done, I never take my rest.
Should I be bashfull, for to goe among,
The faire, or fearfull, to salute the strong,
Or passe the rich, or take of great a fee,
Or favour honour, where I doe it see?
O no, nor any else that thou dost send
Me, For I bring them all unto their end,
By thy consent I doe still life destroy.
A King I'm made by thee, as doth appeare,
And by thy power all creatures do me feare.
I doe subdue thy foes, and make them bow,
And dart them down, to scape they know not how.
When I to men come armed with thy wrath,
They sinke downe quite, not one the power hath
Me to withstand; then life bids them farewell,
But dying life, meets them againe in hell.
But of thy Saints, I have been much desir'd,
They'd have me come, though they with much were hir'd
To stay below, and not to see thy face,
Where thou dost dwell, their soules being full of grace.
Thou also hast appointed them a rest,
What way is that, which thou didst think the best,
To bring them home, to live in heaven still?
But that I should their mortall life first kill,
And that by me, a passage they must have,
They die but once, then life they still doe save,
I can doe nothing, but upon the earth,
Nor sway my scepter but with mortall birth.
Yet here I am but for a time to slay,
Though once I thought, I should have raign'd for ay
Why should then life torment me in this sort,
In raising on me such an ill report.
In calling me to answer at thy barre,
Life seeks my ruine, he proceeds so farre,
Corrupting man, and poysoning still the times;
I doe revenge the evill, 'tis thy cause,
He still doth breake, I ever keepe thy lawes.
I doe him good, me ill he doth requite,
Men live by me, yet he owes me a spite.
Now let these speake what they can say for me,
I make no doubt but then I shall be free.
Deaths assistants have leave to pleade for him.
Thou shalt have Justice here before my face,Each one shall speake: and then ile judge the case.
It is not shewes nor glosses that will stand,
Instead at all to free thee from my hand,
But 'tis the truth, by truth thou must be tri'd,
For that is best all cases to decide.
The Magistrates Plea for death.
Thou hast me in a place of Justice set,I judge a case that life must pay a Debt,
How may this be, if Death were not my friend,
To take my part, and bring life to an end?
Death doth his office, I will beare him out,
Lives ruine thus, when ere he bring'st about,
My servant take? then take the Master too.
No peace nor quiet once would dwell with men,
Not best, but worst, would take all sweetnes then.
The Felons here, by death receive their due,
Men live in feare, and say that law is true.
The Heire craves deaths freedome.
What doth't availe, that I am borne to lands,And if that all should freed be from death's hand's?
All hopes were vaine, and for my expectation,
It were cut off, no meanes of preservation,
Were left for me, worse than my yonger brother,
I cannot worke, and so can he, and other,
Old men must die, and young men take their places,
They must to dust, death puts life to such cases,
Old men are children, if they live but long,
They to themselves are burthens: for the young
Their spittings, coffings, froward dispositions,
So irksome are, and so hard my conditions,
We would be freed, for them the world is bad,
A better place, we all doe wish they had.
Death us'd to doe as great a thing as this,
O prethee come, and doe it, doe not misse.
I am in trouble, troubles greeve my heart,
Thou wilt be quit, for many take thy part.
I lookt for thee, thou went'st another way,
Pray free him now, to doe one worke for me,
The old man take, no more desir'd shall be.
The Parish Clarke sueth to have Death freed.
Death I am sorry here to see thee stand,'Twas for thy sake I tooke this place in hand,
'Tis little worth, if thou dost from us goe.
I tri'd my friends to get it, and my foe,
Remaines till now, because I got the place,
He did sue for't, and came off with disgrace.
Of burials we have hundreds in the yeare,
And for the rich, great vailes come in so cleare
It joyes my heart; the rest, some more, some lesse,
In their degree, their bounty doe expresse.
Besides my fee, they did still somewhat more,
So many littles do increase my store.
If Death go downe, Clarke I will be no longer,
Now I am old, and weake, yet like the stronger,
I must to worke; and try my feeble hands;
Or perish must, seeing I possesse no lands.
Death did me good that little that I have,
I got by him, when life was brought to grave.
O quit him, quit him, that I may injoy,
My profit still; my hopes doe not destroy.
The Sextons lamentation for Death.
When trading fail'd, I brought unto a strait,For want of meanes, did for a place lay waite,
The Sexton dyed, the Parson stood my friend,
To helpe me in, such good he did intend
To me: the Parish with a full consent,
To him agreed, so to the place I went,
Death brought me in great part still of my gaines,
What else I had, I ever did take paines
For it: what I for ringing of the Bell,
Had then for rich, when 'twas their dying knell,
Or any other, I will not now relate it,
I scorne to brag, I ever yet did hate it.
Or all the Bels being rung, what ere I got,
'Twas so, and so, I ever had my lot.
With other things which now I will not name,
He did me helpe, let no one then me blame,
To take his part, alasse who can doe lesse,
Seeing he to me such friendship did expresse.
I cannot hold for to maintaine my charge,
If death be gone: the Parish is not large,
Enough for vailes, to keep me in such sort,
To pay my debts, live free from ill report.
The trading's lost, that little that I had,
Nor can I worke, being old, my sight is bad.
For company, take me with him away.
The Searchers complaine of their losses, and beg that Death may be quit.
We are old women, weake, and very poore,We trade with Death, and so increase our store,
Death he is first, we second in the place,
To search the corps: of what, and in what case,
They died: we bring of them a true relation,
And groates a peece allow'd for preservation.
But sometimes more, as cloathes, or else some food,
That's mony worth, and is to us as good.
We past our labours are, 'tis knowne full well.
Allowance we have, ith' Parish where we dwell,
If death should faile, our place would faile us too,
We must goe beg, and make no more adoe.
Vnloose him now, for he hath been our friend,
Or let us goe with him to know our end.
Let Life decay, and Death take up his place,
Our life else is but Death, our wants deface
Vs: better we with death should lie in grave,
Than live on earth; we little comfort have.
Th Coffin-maker makes mone for the absence of death, and desires his libertie.
I ever have been brought up to a trade,By death maintain'd, for Coffins I have made,
Apprentiship most hard I did indure,
I thought to live so well, and be so sure,
In constant trading; shall my expectation,
Thus die in hand, my meanes of preservation,
Faile me? what then will now become of me?
I perish must, or live in miserie.
No other way to live, but boxes small,
I make sometimes, to finde me worke withall;
I sell them cheape, not worth the while to make
For coffins still, good rates I ever take.
Men will not stand in this case for a friend,
When they shall buy; the price, and so an end
We make: and this will countervaile my paines,
And for this worke I have sufficient gaines.
What shall I doe, if death be kept through strife,
Away? 'twill make me weary of my life.
Let all men speake of death as they doe finde,
I liv'd by him, and 'tis against my minde,
To see him troubled; life did bring him hither,
Discharge him then, that we may trade together.
The Bearers speech for death, and laments their losse.
Our places are to beare the dead to grave,With watchings, that is all the meanes we have,
To live: we tried our friends to helpe us in,
And ever since we constant in't have beene,
We were so poore we could not well tell how
For to subsist, the case is alter'd now,
We got so much by death within a yeare,
The better still we are, as doth appeare.
Now we have goods and money too at need,
We pay our rent, and of the best we feed:
We still have wine, and sometime other things,
We do rejoice, though some their hands stil wrings.
When we from home doe beare the dead away,
To their long home, they in their grave must stay,
Our constant gaines to all is knowne, so well,
We need not speake; the rest we will not tell.
What ere it be we would not willingly,
Now lose our gaines, nor change it till we die.
'Tis nothing worth if death should lie in hold,
Alas we might our sorrowes then unfolde,
We were undone, and perish all we must,
Release him now, thou wilt doe, so, we trust.
The Grave-makers lamentation missing Death.
I am a man, I need not here be nam'd,Though I can dig, to begge I am asham'd,
I make the graves to bury dead folkes in,
I am imploy'd, for idlenesse is sinne.
I have no meanes, but what I labour for,
I'th sicknesse time, though men doe me abhorre,
My trading's best, when other trades decay,
I make of graves some five, or sixe a day,
I labour hard, and all men finde me willing,
Some give me sixe pence, and some give a shilling,
If in the Church, some two, or three, some more,
Thus I'm maintain'd, and lay up mony store,
Though times more healthful were, yet work I had,
I'm crasie brain'd, yet this wil make me mad.
If death be tooke away: my trading then,
Will faile me quite, and never come agen,
For other worke, I am a stranger to it,
To watch at night, alas that will not doe it,
To maintaine me, my wife, and children small,
It's but a groate, so want will starve us all,
Death holpe me still; O free him, else my grave,
Ile dig, then die, I there no want shall have.
The Grave wants Death, and begges him to come to bring meate to the wormes and him.
Death, what's the matter thou art now indighted?The newes I heare, hath me full sore affrighted?
My hungry belly thou wast wont to fill,
With flesh: I sweetly did digest it still
My mouth is wide, my stomack hot like fire,
The more I eate, the more I doe desire:
My bowels large, my sides and limbes are strong,
Give, give me food I shall continue long,
I thought some evill had oretaken thee,
Thou brought'st not meat, as thou wert wont to me
Thou for me wast, I for thee in like case,
Thou me releev'dst, I found thy dead a place.
We are all friends, and if we now should part,
The thoughts of this would almost kill my heart,
But life that doth accuse thee in this sort,
He envies thee, and rais'd an ill report
On me likewise, and pickes a quarrell too,
Again all such, with whom he hath to doe.
Be not dismaid, I hope thou shalt againe,
Come dwell with me, and rule amongst the slaine;
The wormes my tenants, they doe misse thee now.
They seek for meat to help them, who knows how
Or else we'l come and follow thee and die,
I give them houses, if thou canst not give,
Meat to them then, long here they cannot live,
They are so silly and so feeble they,
Now cannot goe, nay scarce can creepe away.
They call to me for food and I have none,
My flesh is eat, and nothing but the bone,
Is left, when I had any they did feed,
With me, it was a charitable deed;
But now alas, I hungry am, and poore,
What's done is done, now I can doe no more,
Death come away, why should'st thou not be free,
The wormes and I will ever honour thee.
Death and his friends are checkt, Life is urged to speake to the purpose.
Death, thou, thy friends also have spoke their mind,Thou think'st thy cause is good, but thou shalt find
Vaine thy defence; with thy corrupted crue,
Living by sense, they nothing speake that's true,
They doe not care, so they have private gaine,
Come in by thee: though all the world be slaine.
They helpe thee not, thy cause the worse made,
They parties are, and with thee drive a trade.
Thy shew of truth he'l prove is but a lye.
Life to the life of death, the dreadfull story,
Speak now, declare, the truth, shew forth my glory.
The Reply of Life to all the particulars against deaths defence.
When God did make man blessed in his kinde,And all things else according to his minde,
When man did breake the Law of God by sinne,
Thou as his curse did'st presently step in,
God bid thee ('tis true) but thou run'st fast,
For to destroy his worke, thou didst make haste.
But to obey Gods will or his decree,
Was never yet intended so by thee.
For Truth or Justice, thou car'st not a whit,
And yet thou sayest thou hast a right to it.
Dost thou divide the world, is it thy due?
Or any part, 'twere so if lyes were true,
Thou willing art to ruine me, and still,
Thou seek'st about my living bloud to spill,
Thou dost thy worst to keepe me still from rest,
The worst of workes thou callest still the best.
Thou shamelesse art, and impudent to all,
Thou throw'st thy darts, at rich, faire, great & small.
Thou bidden art, but yet without commission,
Thou would'st destroy me, crying for permission.
Thou car'st for none for his integrity.
If in Gods hand thou art, why dost thou now,
Thus vexe and fret, and wilt not me allow,
A being: but dost labour to destroy,
Me still: my glory thou would'st take away.
A tyrant if a King thou art; 'tis so,
To all thy subjects first or last a foe,
Thou shew'st thy selfe most curst, so vile thou art,
Some may in feare, in love none takes thy part.
Thou dost usurp, God made thee not a King,
A name that's forg'd, through feare thou hast the thing
Put on thee: God with wrath doth arme thee then
'Tis for his foes; but to all other men,
He mercy shewes; but thou no pitty hast,
And friends or foes, thou still dost lay them waste.
What good by thee doth come to any one,
'Twas by Gods hand, for thou intendest none;
The Saints that did so much desire thee,
'Twas first because from sinne they would be free;
And for to see the Lord, and with him dwell,
To speake his praises, and his goodnesse tell.
Not for thy sake, thy pale and dreadfull face,
Frights, all by nature run from thee apace.
Can God (dost thinke) finde no way else to bring,
His Saints to blisse? but thou must use thy sting,
To bring them down, some are in heaven blest,
That nere knew thee, and so might all the rest,
God were to thee (in thy defence unfolding)
For spoyling mee: that life by thee they gaine,
Is not thy minde, that life too, thou would'st staine,
If thou hadst power, (but 'tis above thy reach)
Thou didst on earth such fearfull lectures preach:
'Tis well thou hast but there a time to tarry,
'Tis true, though once in this thy minde did varie.
No ill report I ever made on thee,
And this the Judge, and all the world shall see.
Though I am guilty, if the Lord forgive,
My sinne; what's that to thee? I still shall live.
What ill I doe, is done through sins temptation,
Thou bring'st the guilt, which threatens condemnation.
Thou ruin'st time, and ages to decay,
Thou also bring'st; by takiag me away.
Is't out of love to God, that thou dost so,
Revenge the ils? no, no thou art a foe
To all that live, it is not for Gods sake,
It's still in wrath that thou dost vengeance take.
Thou dost accuse me of the breach ofright,
That so my darknesse, may make thine seeme light.
Thy selfe thou praisest that thou dost Gods will,
And keep'st his lawes, though thou dost break them still
Thou lying serpent; thou doe good to me,
When, where was it? can good of evill be?
I will requite thee if thou good hast showne,
To me: thy ill to all the world is knowne.
When losse of life, thou countest for thy gaine.
'Tis true I hate thee, how can I doe lesse?
Thou dost on me thy malice still expresse.
An aggravation and disproportion, betwixt death and the cruellest creatures, and how he hath nothing that is praise-worthy belongs to him.
What shall I say thou cursed viper now?Set out thee or thy hatred, who knowes how?
A cockatrice thou art, of poyson'd Aspe,
Thou step'st then in, when men for me do gaspe.
The Lion's meeke, when he's compar'd to thee,
The Dragon's tame, how wilde so ere he be,
The Leopards doe shew some respect to men,
The greedy Wolves doe prey but now and then.
The hungry foxes doe sleepe all the day,
And in the night they onely seeke their prey.
But thou art worse than all that here are nam'd,
Thou spoil'st all men, and never art asham'd.
Both day and night all times thou goest about,
And mak'st thy prey of all thou findest out.
The Panther when he doth destroy mans life,
Seemeth to grieve, but thou art still at strife
Wlth me: for murther thou dost not relent,
But if thou misse a blow, thou dost repent.
If not, with one alone they'l be contented.
Thou like a Thiefe dost come, men not aware,
All thou must have, for one thou dost not care.
Thy shape's unseen, I cannot paint thee out,
Not man, nor beast, nor fowle, nor vermine rout,
Can thee discover in thy native hue:
Or by proportion give to thee thy due.
If thou be strong, why doe men through disease,
Grow weake, before thou dost upon them seaze?
If thou be bold, why dost thou slily creepe,
And steal on men by night, when they should sleep?
If thou art valiant, why dost thou the brother,
Vse as thy meanes, to make him kill the other?
When armies rise against each other fight,
Though there thou art, thou play'st there least in sight.
If thou art noble, why doe hangmen still,
Attend on thee, to execute thy will?
Thou dost men starve is this a noble minde?
No favour shew'st thou art to all unkinde.
If thou art great, why dost not shew the same,
To shelter men of praise to get a name?
If thou art faire, come now let's see thy face?
Thy beauties markes may helpe thee in this case.
Especially, if beauty be within,
But thou art foule, and so hast ever beene.
If thou art wise, why dost thou ever use
To set thy selfe the wisest to abuse?
To all the world 'tis evident and cleare.
If thou art just, why dost not rescve those,
That serve the Lord in striking downe their foes?
If thou hast mercy why dost slight the teares,
Of poore distrest? thou dost increase their feares.
If thou art rich, why dost not give a fee,
Both large and good for those that plead for thee?
But thou art poor thy halfe world's nothing worth,
So well as I can, I have set thee forth.
Deaths friends are reproved, their absurdities are not to be answered, but they are fitter for correction. Comparisons and advice.
Thy friends that have stood up for thy defence,Will from thee finde a deadly recompence.
They trade with thee, but he that gets the gaines
Comes off with losse, his labour for his paines:
There's none that doth the common good desire
Of them: like fooles they dote upon their hire.
On present things they dote, but quickly they,
Will lose the sweet, when death takes them away.
The Magistrate Ile satisfie, but for
The restlike Atheists speake, I doe abhorre
To answer them, absurdities their words
Are: them they use as mad men doe use swords.
Ile not dispute, they'r fitter for correction.
To side with death against the life of men.
That pretious is, for gaines they wish death then.
Should men like beasts by sense live alwayes here?
Hath God no wayes but what to sence appeare.
To feed and cloath his creatures which he made?
He helpe him can, though other helpes doe fade.
Must death of others, life unto men give?
Or no meanes else is in the world to live?
Is there no gaines, but must be others losses,
Or comfort have, unlesse death bring his crosses?
Is this to do by others as to have
The same repay'd to thee? or would'st thou crave
Death for thy selfe, or shamefully to die,
Others to free, that doe in bondage lie?
Anothers case in this make still thine owne,
Thou fain would'st live, should others be o'rthrown
Be not so brutish in thy curst desire,
Me thinks it smels of brimstone and hell fire.
Plead not for death, he will not plead for you;
His friendship's false, his enmity is true.
The Magistrates speech is answered.
The Magistrate that pleads for death so witty,That he should fall, he thinkes it is great pitty:
Sharpe punishment, and publikely disgrace.
Justice in rigor should not be exprest,
Injustice 'tis to all, but to the best
Shew clemency and mercy to all such
That are most rude, let pitty ever touch,
The heart, and then in love we shall agree,
When Death goes downe, O then I shall be free.
Death, none can quit, when he once takes away,
The lives of men, although they went astray,
Though death be gone, stil thou maist use thy strēgth
To chastise men, and make them good at length.
A servant now he is, but ere't be long,
He'l master be, and prove for thee too strong.
Vnlesse he be condemn'd, and silenc'd quite,
And by decree we take away his might;
Sinne's condemn'd, if it get not repreeve,
Death may be spar'd men may in quiet live.
Although before some have deserv'd to die,
I would not lose nor leave them willingly.
Though worst speed best & best the worst receive
Worst may be best if I doe not them leave.
Though theevs by death have here receiv'd reward
Yet by thy stripes men will as much regard,
The law of life: now if death be a friend,
Let others judge: for I have made an end.
The charge of the Jurie.
You heare of death; the case is open'd large,Your verdict bring: for this I give in charge,
You speake the truth, and boldly as you finde,
Respect not parties, freely shew your minde.
Death is a foe to all the case is cleare,
The best that live, of him doe live in feare.
He is so grim that with his ghastly frowne,
He doth distract men, then he sinkes them downe.
Life seekes but justice, justice he shall have,
My subject he's, he shall not be deaths slave;
Life he is wrong'd, the truth of this is tri'd?
Doe you consult, the case ile soone decide.
The Preface to the verdict of the Jurie.
Lord this we finde to us is very cleare,That Death to Life a foe is: with his feare
Doth men like slaves keepe under; with his force
Doth crush all things, and never hath remorse.
He prides himselfe ore all, he is so vile,
Next Sin, the worst, though you a King him stile
The truth of this all ages that are past,
Have found for they, by death were spoil'd at last.
To torture men, thou tak'st the tyrants part.
The information sets thy inside out,
But the reply, brings it more cleare about.
Thy words, thy friends doe no whit mend thy case
But by contraries: Justice now takes place.
The Verdict of the Jurie, against Death.
For Death, we finde him guilty of those crimes,Of frighting men, and killing them all times,
And all things else; that little we can see,
(Take other things that prov'd so strongly be,
'Gainst him) why he should not deserve to die,
Cut from the earth, and times eternally.
Now doome him Lord, and free us from his snare,
And let him lie in ever dying care.
The Introduction to the Sentence.
Death now thou seest thou art convicted truly,Thy deadly plots I have observed duly:
Against my creatures for so 's the story,
That chiefly made were, to set forth my glory.
When that my sonne tooke flesh and man became,
Thou didst not spare him: thou join'st wth him shame
Was rais'd againe, and had a second birth.
The sentence against Death.
I sentence thee to perish evermore;With all thy malice set upon thy score:
A stronger death, shall swallow all thy power,
And shall thy Kingdome utterly devoure.
Now helpe nor refuge, none shall give to thee,
Eternall darknesse then thy part shall be,
Thou never shalt from thence returne againe,
To domineere or triumph ore the slaine.
Take wrath with thee, be fill'd with curses store
And so begon and see my face no more.
The Devill knowing that Sinne and Death are condemned, his power and malice appeares; but 'tis restrained.
Sathan which once did dwell within the Court,Of heaven: thence was cast, yet doth resort,
Thither againe, to pry into Gods actions,
And what he doth against his cursed factions,
And what respect he shewes unto his owne,
That serve him still, and make his power knowne
The one we doth against the Lord uphold,
The other he to shame would bring, so bold
To all the world; dispose it by his might.
He would: if God did not subdue his power;
All men he would by treason soone devoure.
And now he's vext that sin and death is cast,
By Jurie, and God hath the sentence past,
Vpon them hoth; and now he comes to sue,
For a reprieve, as to his Kingdome due.
The Devill sueth for a reprieve for Sinne and Death, and useth sundry Arguments.
Lord am not I thy creature, thou didst make,Me glorious? when with Angels I did take
Delight to doe what thou didst me command:
And pleasure tooke, to waite then at thy hand.
I sinn'd but once, yet by that sinne I fell,
From heavens glory, to the pit of hell.
Thy creature man on which thou sett'st thy love,
Still sinneth, and his sinning doth not move
Thee to reject him; but in favour still,
He doth receive the fruits of thy good will.
Seeing it is so, that I no hope have ever,
To be restor'd, though I should use indeavour,
I set my selfe to stablish me a throne,
Except thy selfe, Ile be controul'd by none.
They doe my worke, and alwayes willing be,
To bring me honour, profit; they converse,
And trade with men, I have a rich commerce,
By both their meanes: the pillars of my state,
I them esteeme; and I at any rate
Would not them lose; they both do know my bents
I cannot worke without such instruments,
Why dost thou me before the time torment,
Condemning them to hinder my intent;
Thou know'st my time is very short to stay,
Here; I am bound unto the Judgement day,
In chaines of darknesse, then I must abide,
Thy burning wrath: to recompence my pride.
That is as much as Justice can desire,
Now I of thee this one thing doe require.
If I may have this favour at thy hand,
As devils are, Ile be at thy command.
That sin and death may both their freedome have,
By a reprieve, this is the thing I crave,
And doe my worke as they were wont to doe it,
Give liberty; for they are willing to it.
Thou didst at first permit me for to enter,
Into the serpent, I to tempt did venter
The woman first, then in the second place,
Ore man prevail'd; and brought on both disgrace
The King that was according to thy heart,
Thou gav'st me leave to tempt too, but the smart
With plagues, destroy'd soone after they were nūbred.
Thou didst permit me for to try that King,
Who wicked was, by lying him to bring
To an untimely and a fearfull end,
That sold himselfe and ne're did good intend.
That man that great was, dwelling in the East,
Approv'd by thee to be of men the best,
Thou didst permit me for to trie him so,
That he almost did count thee for his foe.
Thou didst permit me for to try with fan,
Th' Apostles faith, so I did man by man,
And by that meanes they blessed on record,
Doe still remaine: with all that kept thy word.
Nay when I was from him that was possest
Cast: when I askt thou granted'st my request,
Into the Swine to enter, thou said'st goe,
Without thy leave, I could not have done so.
Now art not thou as kinde as heretofore?
To all thy favours, adde this favour more;
To free my servants: Kingdomes if divided
Long cannot stand; this was by thee decided.
By me thy justice shall the more appeare,
And mercie too, in freeing some from feare
Though I am bad, it best he comes a devill.
But thou art good: so render good for evill.
Let sin and death be quit that they may still,
Rejoyce with me: and execute my will.
Sathan is sharply rebuked in sundry particulars by the Lord.
Why dost thou claime a priviledge that thou,My creature art? thou art a devill now?
Thou tri'st all meanes, to make all like to thee,
For desperation, and for miserie.
Thou wast in heaven, where no sinne did dwell,
Yet thou through pride, against me didst rebell
Thou wast not tempted, man by thee was tempted,
Why should not he, by mercy be exempted?
From wrath? which is for evermore thy due,
With all that fell: which are a cursed crue.
For man, I have redeem'd him by my Sonne,
Which paid a price, else had he been undone.
No price nor means can serve to helpe thee out,
Of thy curs'd state: if thou should'st goe about,
It were in vaine, though thou a Kingdome hast,
And men cannot, yet I will lay thee wast.
Though Sinne and Death be still at thy command,
What canst thou doe, when they are by my hand,
Supprest? why dost thou now so much desire,
To have reprieve for them? because hell fire
Reserv'd for thee is to that judgement day?
Me thinks these thoughts, thy malice might allay.
That still the more thou art to sinne inclin'd,
The more in hell of torment thou shalt find.
The more with wrath I will thy spirit fill.
Though I in justice did some time permit thee,
(Dost thinke that for such sinnes I doe acquit thee?)
T'intice the good or make the bad grow worse,
To make me powre on them the greater curse.
Thou dost accuse my Saints, and mak'st me try them
I nothing finde, but that thou dost belye them.
If I command thee not to use thy power,
'Gainst man; then thou wilt the beasts devoure.
If what thou would'st thou canst not bring about,
Thou'lt play at small game, rather than sit out
Not parted, but orethrowne, thy Kingdome shall
Ere long be: then with cursed great and small.
If sinne become thee, comely thou shalt be,
Enough shalt thou have, with sins miserie.
Thou monster vile, should I thee good reward,
When none for sinne with thee, can be compar'd.
If sinne and death repriev'd are (this thy choise)
How much, how long, would'st thou with them rejoyce.
A Reprieve is granted, that Gods justice might the more appeare.
Now though I grant thee this thy vile request,Of all thy evils this is not the least:
My justice shall on thee the more appeare,
In sinne, and sinners, horrour, guilt, and feare,
So sin, and death, together shall be chain'd.
Accurst from me they shall be, men shall know,
Its but the fruit of raging flames below:
And as they band against men, so their hire,
Shall be the more in hels tormenting fire,
They shall not hatch the mischiefe they intend,
Ile crush their force, and crosse their cursed end.
But for my foes that side with sin against me,
They earnest give for death and miserie.
Repriev'd they shall be but on these conditions
That never they orepasse these strict commissions.
Sinne and Death prohibited in sundry particulars remaine both under sentence till the time of execution.
Sinne shall not raigne in any of my owneRedeem'd, then he shall soone be overthrowne,
Death shall not strike the just before their time,
When they are ripe, Ile pluck them in their prime,
Sinne shall not raile nor persecute the best:
Death shall not fright them though that he be prest
Against them, they shall willing be to part,
From worldly pompe, before he kill the heart:
Sinne shall not set up tyrants in high places,
Lest they should bring their betters to disgraces.
That wicked men judge worthy for to die.
Sinne shall not take all fat, and sweet away,
And let men beg, or starve, or goe astray,
For want of comfort (casting truth behinde)
Nor slight the cries of them distrest in minde.
Death shall not shew his face to any one,
In the new birth untill the worke be done.
Sinne shall not mocke at men that serve the Lord,
With upright hearts, this I have still abhorr'd.
Death shall not vexe those that are griev'd for sin,
With purpose for a new life to begin.
Sinne shall not be in painted shewes set forth,
To hinder truth that is so great of worth.
Death shall not seaze for small things on the poore,
Or free the rich of greater for their store.
Sinne never more shall turne the streame away,
Nor with the highest er'e shal beare the sway,
Death shall not touch a man without my leave,
Or any thing else, of its life bereave:
Let sinne and death, still under sentence dwell,
Till they with thee, together meet in hell.
FINIS.
| Poems Occasioned by a melancholy vision | |