The Muses Sacrifice :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Muses, sacrifice; I, consecrate;
They, vnto Heau'n; I, to you, heau'nly Three:
They, my poore Heart; I, my Loues rich Estate,
together with my Rimes, that rarer be.

But what can be more rare than richest Loue,
sith so rich Loue is, now, so rarely found?
Yes; measur'd-words, that, out of measure, moue
the Soule to Heau'n, from Hel that's most profound!

A vexed Soule for Follies, that betray
the Soule to Death, some call the nether Hell:
Thence moue my Measures; and, doe make such way,
that they all Lets to giue way, doe compell.

These Rarities, which my poore Soule confines,
her treble-Zeale to you (three Graces) brings
For Grace, as glorious as the Sunne that shines
(as bright, as chearefull) on inferiour Things.

Such Grace you haue, by Vertue, and by Fate,
as makes you Three, the Glory of these Times;
The Mvses Darlings, and their Chaires of State;
Shapers, and Soules of all Soule-charming Rimes!

Bedford, the beaming-glory of thy Hovse
that makes it Heau'n on Earth, thy Worths are such,
As all our Wits make most miraculous,
because thy Wit and Worth doe worke so much.

For, Wit and Sp'rit, in Beauties Liuery,
doe still attend thine all-commanding Eyes;
And, in th' Achiuements of thine Ingenie,
the glosse thereof, like Orr, on Sable lies.

The Wombe that bare thee, made thy noble Breast
abound with Bountie, yer thou knew'st thy Fate;
Where furnisht was that Bountie with the best
of Honors Humors, giuing Her the Mate.

For which, all Poets Plowes (their Pennes) doe plow
the fertil'st Grounds of Art; and, in the same,
Thy still-increasing Praises (thicke) doe sow,
to yeeld Æternitie thy Crop of Fame!

Pembroke, (a Paragon of Princely Parts,
and, of that Part that most commends the Muse,
Great Mistresse of her Greatnesse, and the Arts,)
Phœbus and Fate makes great, and glorious!

A Worke of Art and Grace (from Head and Heart
that makes a Worke of Wonder) thou hast done;
Where Art, seemes Nature; Nature, seemeth Art;
and, Grace, in both, makes all out-shine the Sunne.

So sweet a Descant on so sacred Ground
no Time shall cease to sing to Heau'nly Lyres:
For, when the Spheares shall cease their gyring sound,
the Angels then, shall chaunt it in their Quires.

No Time can vaunt that ere it did produce
from femine Perfections, so sweet Straines
As still shall serue for Men and Angels vse;
then both, past Time, shall sing thy Praise & Paines.

My Hand once sought that glorious Worke to grace;
and writ, in Gold, what thou, in Incke, hadst writ:
But Gold and highest Art are both too base
to Character the glory of thy Wit!

And didst thou thirst for Fame (as all Men doe)
thou would'st, by all meanes, let it come to light;
But though thou cloud it, as doth Enuy too,
yet through both Clouds it shines, it is so bright!

Where bright Desert fore-goes; a spurre is Praise
to make it runne to all that glorifies:
Of such Desert, if ought eclipse the Rayes,
it euer shames Fames publicke-Notaries.

Cary (of whom Minerua stands in feare,
lest she, from her, should get Arts Regencie)
Of Art so moues the great-all-mouing Spheare,
that eu'ry Orbe of Science moues thereby.

Thou mak'st Melpomen proud, and my Heart great
of such a Pupill, who, in Buskin fine,
With Feete of State, dost make thy Muse to mete
the Scenes of Syracuse and Palestine.

Art, Language; yea; abstruse and holy Tongues,
thy Wit and Grace acquir'd thy Fame to raise;
And still to fill thine owne, and others Songs;
thine, with thy Parts, and others, with thy praise.

Such neruy Limbes of Art, and Straines of Wit
Times past ne'er knew the weaker Sexe to haue;
And Times to come, will hardly credit it,
if thus then giue thy Workes both Birth and Graue.

Yee Heau'nly Trinary, that swayes the State
of Arts whole Monarchie, and Wits Empire,
Liue long your Likes (vnlike) to animate
(for all Times light) to blow at your Arts Fire.

For, Time now swels, (as with some poysonous Weede)
with Paper-Quelkchose, neuer smelt in Scholes;
So, made for Follies Excesse; for, they feede
but fatten not; if fatten, tis but Fooles.

What strange Chimeraes Wit, (nay Folly) frames
in these much stranger Times, weake Wits t'affright
Besides themselues! for, Wits Celestiall Flames,
now spend much Oyle, yet lend but little Light!

And what they lend, is (oft) as false, as small;
so (to small purpose) they great Paines doe take
But to be scorn'd, or curst, or loth'd of all
that, by their false-light, foulely doe mistake.

For, to giue Light that leads light Men awry,
is Light that leades to Darknesse; then such, Light
Were better out, than still be in the Eye
of Men, that (so) doe, lightly, runne from Right.

For, while such Light doth shine, the Multitude
(like Moates in Sunne) with their Confusion plaies;
Not weighing, o'er their Heads, how Errors Cloud
the while, doth threat, t'o'er-whelme them many waies.

By pouring downe the Haile of hard Conceits
gainst God and Goodnesse, that doe batter both:
Or else, by saddest Showres of darke Deceits,
borne as the fickle Winde of Fancy blowth:

By Lightning; that doth still more hurt than good;
while Errors Thunder-claps make sowre the sweet
(Yea, sweetest) drinke of Nature (our best Bloud)
that doth with Melancholy-madnesse meet.

By all that may (at least) giue some offence
to complete Vertue, Wisedome, Wit, and Art:
For, Ignorance, hath oft more Insolence,
than puffing Knowledge to take Errors part.

Disease of Times, of Mindes, Men, Arts, and Fame,
vaine Selfe-conceit, how dost thou ply the Presse
Of People and the Printer, with thy shame,
clad in the Coate of Fustian-foolishnesse?

For, all that but pretend t'haue Art or Wit,
so trauell with Conceit, amisse conceiu'd,
That, till the Presse deliuer them of It,
their Throwes are such as make them Wit-bereau'd:

Yet, if the Issue of their crazed Braines
doe chance (though monstrously) to come to light;
Lord! how they hugge it, like the Ape that straines
her young so hard, in loue, as kils it quite.

What Piles of Pamphlets, and more wordy Bookes,
now farse the World! wherein, if Wisdome looke,
She shall see nothing worthy of her Lookes,
vnlesse the idle Likenesse of a Booke!

But Wit's most wrong'd by priuiledge of Schoole:
for, Learnings Drunkards now so ply the Pot
(Of Incke I meane) Posteritie to foole,
as shames Wits Name, although they touch him not.

Some that but looke into Diuinitie
with their left Eye, with their left Hand do write
What they obserue, to wrong Posteritie,
that by this Ignis fatuis roame by Night.

Some search the Corpes of all Philosophie,
and eu'ry Nerue and Veyne so scrible on,
That where it should be Truths Anatomie,
they make it Errors rightest Scheleton.

Some others on some other Faculties,
still (fondly) labour, but to be in Print:
(O poore Ambition!) so, their Folly flies
abroad the World, like Slips, that shame their Mint.

But Poesie (dismall Poesie) thou art
most subiect to this sou'raigne Sottishnesse;
So, there's good Cause thou shouldst be out of heart,
sith all, almost, now put thee vnder Presse.

And Wit lies shrowded so in Paper-sheetes,
bound Hand and Foote with Cords of Vanities:
That (first) with all Obscuritie it meetes;
so, tis impossible it ere should rise.

But your Three Graces, (whom our Muse would grace,
had she that glory, that our Philip had,
That was the Beautie of Arts Soule and Face)
you presse the Presse with little you haue made.

No; you well know the Presse so much is wrong'd,
by abiect Rimers that great Hearts doe scorne
To haue their Measures with such Nombers throng'd.
as are so basely got, conceiu'd, and borne.

And, did my Fortunes not expose me to
contempt of Greatnesse, sith so meane I am,
I should, with Greatnesse, greatly scorne it too,
sith Fame for Versing, now, is held but Shame.

But, in that Veyne lies not that Maladie;
no, It is sound, and holds Arts purest Bloud,
Which therein flowes to each Extremitie
of Arts whole Body, for the publike-good.

Here-hence it came, that diuine Oracles
(Apollos Dialect, great God of Art)
Were still exprest in measur'd Sillables,
sith squarest Thoughts most roundly they impart.

In which respect it's meet'st to make Records
of memorable Accidents of Time:
Of Princes Liues, and Actions of great Lords:
which Poets, first, did Chronicle in Rime.

Nay, they were first that Natures Workes obseru'd,
and Bookt it out for young Philosophers:
Yea, they were first, by whom, is still conseru'd
the knowledge of Heau'ns motions, and the Starres.

Who sought to finde each Substance separate,
and, in their curious Search, found what they were;
And, to the Life, did them delineate
on Arts faire Front, that there, more faire, appeare!

Then, Poets were the first Philosophers;
first State-obseruers, and Historians:
First Metaphickes, and Astronomers,
Yea, first Great-clarks, and Astrologians.

And, therefore, were they, in the Worlds first Age,
pow'rfull'st Perswaders; whose sweet Eloquence:
(That euer, staidly, ranne from holy Rage)
was the first Rethoricke sprung from Sapience.

For, should we giue this Empresse but her due,
(Empresse of speech that Monarchizeth Eares)
We must confesse, she can all Soules subdue,
to Passions causing Ioy, or forcing Teares.

It is a Speech of most Maiesticke state,
that makes Reas'ns Forces not to be with-stood:
The Tethys, that doth still predominate
th'outragious Ocean of our boyling bloud!

For, it doth flow more fluent from the Tongue.
and, in the flowing, carries all with it,
Which but attempts the Torrent to impugne
and Rockes of Art remoues, to Seas of Wit!

Succinct it is, and easier to retaine
(which with our Wits and Wils doth best agree)
Than Prose, lesse subiect to iust Measures Raigne:
for, Prose from Measures Rule is (loosely) free.

And, for it's ofter vs'd it cloyes the Fate;
nor so compos'd of Measures Musicall;
And not allow'd that Beautie Verse must beare,
nor yet the Cadence so Harmonicall.

It's not adornd with choise of such rich Words,
which heau'nly Poesie gracefully doth heare;
Nor licens'd that fine phrase, Art Verse affords,
then, to diuinest Spirits it should be deare:

For, tis the Honie of all Rethoricks Flow'ers,
the Quintessence of Art, and Soule of Wit;
Right, spirit of Words, true phrase of Heau'nly Pow'rs;
and, in a Word; for Heau'n, all-onely, fit.

But Time these Times, it seemes, in Malice chose,
to mischiefe Poets; (or, it ne'er brought forth
To this wilde World (mad-merry still in Prose)
such worthy Poets, yet so little worth.

And, how should they be otherwise? for, they
can twist no Lines, that hold eternall Rime,
On Rockes of Art; but much Time turnes away;
so, get but Fame and Famine in that Time.

For, Time they spend in that which none regards,
but such as would, but can no Larges giue:
While other Arts, more poore, get rich Rewards:
so, Phœbus Sonnes, by Luster, onely, liue!

The Painter, that is Master of his Skill,
and but with Earthly Coulors paints (alone)
Meere Formes of Beasts, hath oft Reward at Will;
but, Poets Paintings, though diuine, haue none.

But Painters, sith to Poets they draw nye,
(saue that they draw inne Gold (vnlike them) still)
And, paint so liuely in dumbe Poesie,
I wish their gaine as great as is their Skill.

For, Pictures speake although they still be dumbe;
and what they cannot speake, they recompence
With Demonstration; so, can Soules o'er-come,
as soone by silence, as by Eloquence.

But Trades (that doe but Case the Corps aright
with our owne Cost, (which oft they teith, at least)
But aske and haue: when they that clothe the Sp'rit
in Vertues Robes, are paid but with a Ieast.

Which Iesters Memories I wish maybe
'mong Trencher-Buffons Fooles, and Naturals,
Preseru'd by Poets for Posteritie
to weepe or laugh at, as the Humor fals.

For, Poets best preserue the fame or shame
of good or bad: sith with their pow'rfull Penne,
They giue the Vertuous an immortall Name;
but, make the vicious liue, still loth'd of Men.

No earthly Matter (howsoeuer wrought,
though it (withall) be rais'd aboue the Clouds)
Can Fame vphold, but it will fall to nought:
for, Earth, in Time, her brauest Buildings shrouds.

Those Threatners of the Skye, proud Ilium,
Byrza of Carthage, Towre of Babilon,
Where are they now, with all their state, become?
are they not all, to all Confusion gone?

Where's Neroes golden-Palace, that drew drye
(had it beene liquid) freest Founts of Gold?
A sinius Pollioes Court of Liberty,
so rare for state, are now turn'd both to Molde.

Nay, that proud Pyramed is come to nought,
that, pight neere Memphis, seem'd to proppe the Skie,
Whereon, three-hundred-threescore-thousand wrought
full twenty Yeeres, before it rought so hie!

Some Authors say, the Ground-worke of the same
tooke vp an hundred Furlongs in the Round:
Which higher rose, aspiring, like a Flame,
yet now, of this, no Sparke is to be found.

Much lesse doth any Author testifie
what King (of Fame desirous) rais'd the same:
A most iust plague to checke their vanitie,
that so-in Lime and Stone, entombe their Name.

What rests of Scaurus Amphitheater,
than which, I wot not whether all the Cost
Caligula and Nero did conferre
on all their Buildings, most admir'd, were most!

The Scene whereof, three Stages did containe,
whereon three hundred Collumnes and threescore
Of rarest Marble (deckt with many a Veyne
of orient Coulors) held vp eyther Floore.

Which Pillers, eight and thirty Foote in height,
were each but of one Piece, in each Degree;
Wherein an hundred thousand people might
be plac'd, secure, the Spectacles to see.

And (in the midst) the Stage was all of Glasse,
made thicke, to beare the Actors waight thereon;
Three Thousand Copper-statues all did grace;
besides some Gold, and some refulgent Stone!

And onely for a Month (no longer then
the Playes were playing) was it to endure:
Yet, being but a Romane Cittizen
that made it such, his Fame still sutes his pow'r.

The rather sith he, to adorne the Muse,
this Cost bestow'd; or else (perhaps) his Fame
Had beene, with Neroes, much, but monstrous;
the Muse alone then, well renownes a Name.

Yet, now her Agents are so poore become
in Minde and state, that, for an abiect Fee,
They'l honor (to their shame) but HONORS skum;
yea, Deifie a Diu'll, if he be free.

But, strong Necessitie constraines the same,
(as Israels Singer did the Shew-bread eate
By like constraint) yet, they are Lords of FAME;
and, where they charge with it, there's no retreit.

For, though Time-present see it mis-bestow'd,
yet if Wits Engine it doe rarely raise,
Of Times to come, It shall be so allow'd,
that both the prais'd and praiser, they will praise!

Yet, speake a Language few doe apprehend;
so few affect it: for, wee nought affect,
But what our Vnderstandings comprehend;
no maruell then the most this Art neglect.

Nay, were't but so, yet Poesie still should finde
some grace with some, whom Art makes great, of vile:
But now such thinke, it but distracts the Minde;
for, broken-Braines such great-Ones Poets stile.

Vnfit for serious vse, vnfit for all
that tends to perfect Mans Felicitie;
Light, idle, vaine, and what we worse may call,
yea, though it were the Skumme of Vanitie.

And would these Truths were all true Falacies,
(though Poets need to none of these incline:
For, personall faults are not the Faculties,
that is not onely faultlesse, but diuine.)

But tis too true in many that professe
the Art; though Leaden Lumpes: for, none can swim
In Helicon without that Happinesse,
which, from his Mothers Wombe, he brought with him.

And, tis as true if Grace and Gouernment,
doe not containe the Minde, in Raptures high,
But it, of Wit, may make so large extent,
as it may cracke the strongest Ingenie.

So may it doe in other Mysteries,
and that which we most praise, may most impeach:
Diuinitie it selfe may soon'st doe this,
if Grace with-hold not from too high a Reach.

Then, let this Arte (which is the Angels speech)
(for, to the High'st they speake in nought but Hymnes,
Which, in the Wombe, they doe true Poets teach)
be freed from speech, that but her glory dimmes.

Then let the ignorant-great-highly base
reuile her ne'er so much, they but bewray
Their owne Defects therby, and giue but grace
to Folly, darkned with Arts glorious Raie.

But no great Spirit, (whose temper is diuine,
and dwels in reall-Greatnes) but adores
The Heau'nly Mvse, that in Arts Heau'n doth shine
like Phœbus, lending Light to other Lores.

To you therefore (that Arte predominate
great in your Vertue, Skill, and Fortunes too)
My Muse held meet'st these Flights to consecrate,
sith you most grace the Muse in most you doe.

And as the Sunne doth glorifie each Thing
(how euer base) on which he deignes to smile:
So, your cleare Eyes doe giue resplendishing
to all their Obiects be they ne'er so vile:
Then, looke on These and Me, with such a Glance,
That both may shine through your bright Countenance.

The vnfained louer, honorer, and admirer of your rare Perfections, Iohn Dauies of Hereford.

[A broken Heart (deare Lord) thy Grace respects]

The Sacrifices of God are a contrite Spirit: A contrite and a broken Heart, O God, thou wilt not dispise. Psal. 51. 17.

A broken Heart (deare Lord) thy Grace respects,
as Loues best Sacrifice; then, breake my Heart
To make it sound thereby, in his Affects;
and Sinne (that wounds It still) from It to part.

How is it (Lord) that who so seekes thy Face
must with the whole-heart seeke the same to see?
Yet Broken-hearts as soone doe get thy Grace;
so, whole or broken, are all One to Thee.

Then, breake my heart, to make it whole; that so
(being broken quite, and made whole afterward)
It, in thy Kingdome, still may currant goe,
made flat to take thy Print, with Pressures hard:
That, though the Fiend abuse thy Forme in mee,
It, through thy Test, may currant passe to Thee.

Another of the same.

As in the Sacrifices of the Law,
there was an Alter, Priest, Host, Fire and Wood:
So This to That, in likenesse neere doth draw;
and wants but holy-Fire to make it good.

The Alter, is my Hope; the Host, my Heart;
the Priest, my Faith; my Loue, the Fuell is:
All these (ô Lord) are ready; but the Art
to fire the Fuell, wants; then, doe thou This.

I am but Passiue in this holy Act,
Thou the sole Agent: yet, ô make me fit
To worke with thee together in this Fact,
with all the Forces of my Will and Wit:
And sith (deare Lord) all things so ready be,
Giue Fire, to sacrifice my Heart to Thee!

Another.

Descend sweet hallowed Fire from that high FLAME.
that euer burnes in LOVES eternall Brest;

consume this Sacrifice, and let the rest
Licke vp my Teares for Sinne about the same:
That Mis-beleeuers thereby still may know
There is no God but he that fir'd it so.

I am no Prophet, Seër, Saint, nor ought,
that may expect such Fauour; but a Wretch
made meeke by Sinne; yet Hands of Faith doe stretch
To thee, whom men prophane, doe set at nought:
If Faith then, with thee worke this wondrous Feate,
They will confesse my God as good, as great!

To ouer-curious Critiques.

Yee ouer-curious Eyes (that nought can please
produc'd by Art or Nature) ô auert
Your All-deprauing-banefull lookes from these
pure Flames, that sacrifice our dying Heart.

Here are no Nouels (which yee most desire)
nor ought vnvsuall; but, here shall you see
What hath beene said of old, in new Attire,
with our Thoughts interlac'd; so, ours they be.

The Spider-webbe, which in her Wombe is bred,
we prize no more for that: nor, estimate
Pure Honie lesse, for being gathered
from many Sweets; nay, more (much more) for that:
What we haue gather'd, is from others Flowres;
And, what is added, is from sweet'st of ours.

To the Indifferent Readers.

To pray, in measur'd Sillables, is strange,
Familiars with peruersenesse may conceiue:
But PIETIE her selfe, allowes this Change;
and, for our Learning, doth Example leaue.

Her Friend (sweet Psalmist) sung his Soules-Conceits
in sacred Numbers; and, the Heau'ns did Charme
With pow'rfull Verse: so, those commanding-Heights,
he wanne but with his Muses mighty Arme!

All Christian-Churches (howsoe'er at ods)
with Psalmes & Hymnes beate Heau'ns resounding Wall:
Nay, more, the Pagans sing vnto their Gods;
and, which is most, the Angels most of all:
Then, sith both Heau'n and Earth This still doe vse,
He shames himselfe that for this blames our Muse.

The Author, of, and to his Muse.

My Muse is tirde with tyring but on Leaues
that fruitlesse are; yet, leaue ill fruits behinde:
Shee onely workes for Ayre, that but deceiues:
so, workes for nothing, but deceitfull Winde.

And what she seiseth, as her Subiect, is
but vaine, if it be light; and lightly what
Shee preyes vpon, is such: then, now on This,
shee needes to pray, for preying so on That.

O Muse, didst thou but know thy natiue kinde,
(being all diuine) thou ne'er would'st waue thy wings
In that which doth but onely marre the Mind;
but, endlesly, about Celestiall Things.

Th'wilt be deplum'd for pluming so on Trash,
and (like a Flesh-flye) lighting but on Sores;
Then, in Arts fairest Founts, thy Feathers wash,
to flye to him that Heau'n and Earth adores!

Thy Raptures else, are but such Rauishments,
as are reproachfull, penall, lewde, and light:
But Raptures farre aboue the Elements,
doe shew thy Vertue in the fairest slight.

O then, thou great vnlimitable Muse,
(that rests, in motion, in th'ETERNALS Breast)
Inspire my Muse, with grace her pow'r to vse
in nought, but what to thee shall be addrest:
So shall that Spirit that made thy Dauid sing,
Make Dauies too, (a Begger) like a King.

THE MVSES SACRIFICE.

A Confession of sinnes, with petition for grace.

O Trinall Vnion, God creating Gods,
O sole resistles all-effecting Pow'r,
When wilt attone twixt mee and thee the ods?
Till when, eternall I account each how'r.

I am (O Lord) thy Creature re-created;
Made, marr'd, re-made, by Loue, by Sinne, by Grace:
Shall Loue, and Grace, by Sinne be so defeated,
That Loue should lose her labor; Grace, her place?

Thou art the Salue, and I the mortall Sore;
Yet with one touch, thy vertue can reuiue me:

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To heale this Sore, a Speare thy heart did gore,
(Kinde Pelican) that thy Bloud might relieue me.

Thy Hands that form'd, reform'd, and me conform'd
Were to a Crosse transfixed for my sake,
To help my hatefull hands that sinne inorm'd;
Then can those helping Hands their Cure forsake?

Thy Head was crown'd with Thorny Diadem,
To cure mine, crown'd with Sinnes sweet-pricking Roses:
Thy body (ah) did bloud & water streame,
To wash away Sinnes soile which mine encloses.

Thy Feete was crosse-wise nailed to a Crosse,
To heale mine, swolne with running into vice:
On thy faire Skin whips did my Crimes engrosse,
So freedst thou me from them with bloudy price.

Then can such Loue now leaue the thing it lou'd?
Is Sinne so sowre to turne sweete Loue to Hate?
To dye for Sinne, it thee alone behou'd,
And yet shall Sinne thy Deaths desert abate?

O God forbid; sith Sinne, and Death, and Hell,
Thou on the Crosse didst conquer throgh thy death,
And by the pow'r thereof their pow'r didst quell
To lowest deepes, and it restrain'd beneath.

Besides, thou saist (but Truth what canst thou say?)
A Gulph is set the two Extreames betweene;

Twixt Heauen and Hell no entercourses may
(By meanes thereof at any time) be seene.

I am in Heauen; for, in thy glorious Wounds
By Faith I hide me, from Sinne, Death and Hell:
If Sathan (for my plague) would breake his bounds,
Those Gulphes of grace to stay will him compell.

Then keep me in thy Wounds (my soules sole heau'n)
From whence if out-cast, I to Hell must fall;
Where out-cast-like of Hope shall be bereau'n:
If reft of Hope, then reft of Help withall.

But help me (Lord) else hopelesse shall I be;
Thy help the hopefull neuer faild at need:
Then, sith my hope of help alone's in thee,
Let speedy help my ready hope succeed.

Vpon thine Hand thine hand hath writ my Name;
Then reade thy Hand, and saue me by the same.

A Sinners acknowledgement of his Vilenesse and Mutabilitie.

Spare me (deare Lord) my daies as nothing be,
Consum'd in Sin, then which is nothing worse:
Yet Sinne is nothing: yet can well agree
With nothing but thy vengeance and thy curse.

[2]

Yet is it that, without which none can liue,
Sprong from our Proto-parents (rootes of strife)
Linckt to that Curse; that Life a crosse doth giue,
not crosse of Life, but crosse in Booke of Life.

Then happy that, that Life yet neuer had;
(Life that still subiect is to such a crosse)
And haplesse I that liue in life so bad,
Where life is found with lifes eternall losse.

Ah what am I, but slime, durt, dounge and dust,
Graue-monsters food, Wormes pittance (most impure)
Sprong frō the earth & vnto earth that must?
How, where, or when, I (sure) am most vnsure.

Abortiue Brat of damn'd Concupiscence,
Hels heire, Heau'ns hate, eternall food for Fire,
A Gulph of griefe, and Sincke of foule offence,
Scum of vaine Pride, and froth of damn'd Desire:

Copesmate of Beasts, and to a Beast transform'd,
A Dungeon darke, a loathsome Lumpe of Earth,
Fardle of filth, prodigious, foule, deform'd,
Dishonours vassaile, cursed childe of Wrath:

Patterne of Vice, and Mould of Vanitie,
Made of the Molde that marres what ere it makes;
Errors misse-maze, where lost is Veritie,
Or blinded so, that still wrong course it takes:

A Bramble Bryer, an vse-lesse barren Plant,
A Dogge, a Hogge, a Viper most vnkinde,
A Rocke of wracke, dry Well of eu'ry Want,
A Weather-cocke, more wau'ring then the winde:

A thing of naught, a naughtie thing, that marres
What Goodnesse makes; a damn'd incarnate Deuill;
Contentions Source, Loues hate, still causing iarres,
A banefull weede, and Roote of eu'ry euill:

What shall I say? A Map of miserie,
Confusions Chaos, Frailties Spectacle,
The Worlds disease, Times vgliest Prodigie;
Th'abuse of Men, and Sha[illeg.]btectacle.

Mortall, and to a Bubble suteable,
Whose flesh as Flowres, whose life as Houres consumes,
Of matter made, more then most mutable,
Yet (sure of certaine death) of life presumes:

Fraile life, which more it lasts, the sooner worne,
The longer drawne, the shorter is the date,
Hedg'd in with cares, as with an Hedge of Thorne;
Whose piercing prickes the minde doe vulnerate.

If merry now, anone with woe I weepe;
If lustie now, forth-with am water-weake;
If now aliue, anone am buried deepe;
That houre that glads the heart, the heart doth breake:

[3]

One while I laugh, another while I lowre;
Now ioy in Griefe, and then in Ioy I grieue;
Now wake in Care, then sleepe I straight secure,
Now I dispaire, then Hope doth me relieue;

Now sigh for sinne, then sinne, so sigh in vaine;
Now minde I Heau'n, then Earth excogitate;
Now fast and pray, then feast and prate againe;
Now labours end, then labours renouate;

Now am I loose, then lose I libertie;
Now sound, then sicke; now vp, then downe I fall;
Now am I safe, and then in ieopardie;
Now ouercome; then, put to the wall;

Now I discourse, then (mute againe) I muse;
Now seek the World, then search I for thy Waies;
Now am abus'd, and then I doe abuse;
Now hate, then loue; now praise, then straight dispraise;

Now This I long for, by and by for That;
This now delights me; then with that am cloid;
Now would haue this, and then I wot not what:
And thus with This, and That, am still annoid.

To count the count-lesse vaine varieties
Wherewith this mortall life surrounded is,
Or to recite our vaines in vanities,
I may (as of the Starres) the reck'ning misse.

All that this earthy Boowle on breast doth beare
Is subiect most to most vnconstant state:
One moment makes as if they neuer were,
And eu'ry minute drawes them to their date.

The heate, the cold, the hunger, thirst, and all
The miseries that life (fraile life) annoy,
(Which swarming hide this Globe terrestriall)
No Tongue can tell, thogh all their pow'rs employ.

Death seconds these, (if not the second Death)
Who with his fatall Fanne sweepes all away,
At All (saith he) whose nostrils bound their breath;
Thus carelesly (at All) with All doth play.

One dyes with Sicknesse, Thought another kils;
With Hunger this, with Thirst that man doth pine:
Some Water choakes, an Halter others spils:
Some Fire consumes, some Beasts deuoure in fine.

This man he murders with the ruthlesse Sword;
That man with Poyson he doth suffocate:
With Bullet this; that with a bitter Word
He ends; and others end with worser Fate.

No Flesh (though fram'd in height of Natures skill,
With composition more then halfe diuine)
But it is subiect made to death, vntill
Th'Immortall doe that mortall flesh refine.

[4]

Thus all he ends; yet none their ends fore-know,
A secret t'is, to Death himselfe vnknowne:
Whom he must strike thy finger (Lord) must show,
Nor dares he shoot til thou the Mark hast showne.

To some he is thy mercies Minister;
To other some the Engine of thy wrath:
This sadnesse to my Soule doth minister,
For, bleeding Conscience many faintings hath:

But wash the same with thy sweet mercies dewe,
And it annoint with vnction spirituall,
Then health, and rest, and peace shall straight ensue,
Which to my Conscience will be cordiall:

I haue discourst to thine all-hearing Eares
My dismall plight, in dolefull Elegie,
With Tragick accents, accents causing teares,
(Sad teares) attending matchlesse misery:

Thy pitties Eare therefore, bowe downe, O Lord,
To these most pensiue, and most iust complaints:
Let mercies Eyes, with pitties Eares accord,
To chear the conscience that with bleeding faints:

In hope wereof my soule shall rest in peace,
Till thou vouchsafe to send her full release.

A Confession of a Sinner, acknowledging the misery of humane frailtie.

Celestiall Lord, Creator of this ALL,
Embracer, Prop, and Ruler of the same,
Whose vnseene Eye beholds the generall,
And singly seest at once this double Frame,
O vaile that Christall-cleere all-seeing eye,
On vtter-darknesse, that, Lord, that am I.

Mine Intellect is darke, darke my soules sight;
My body darke (darke dungeon of my soule)
Is opposite (for darknesse) to thy light,
What can be darker, or more vgly foule?
Thus darknesse striuing much more darke to be,
(Hell being too light) infus'd it selfe in me.

O Iustice Sunne with Taper-pointed beames,
Dart through this Darknesse, open loopes for light,
By which the influence of thy lights leames
Through my darke soule may be dispersed quight:
For what is that which extreame darknes cleares
But extreame light of lights, when it appeares?

Where extreame darknesse harbours, there is Hell,
In me (deare Lord of Heauen) that hell is plac't,

[5]

My heart (hard hart) wherein all horrors dwell,
With vexing thoughts (like Fiends) away doth wast:
My Conscience quite confounded with my misse,
Is lowest Hell, where highest Anguish is.

Descend sweet Christ, and harrow with thy Crosse
This hell of Conscience, free my soule from thence;
It is thine owne (deare Lord) it is thy losse,
If it doe perish through my sinnes offence:
Why, sinne is nothing; then for thing of nought
Lose not my soule (poore purchase) dearly boght.

In Deaths dark shade (o'er-shadowed with my sinne
Vpon the black pit brinck of deepe Despaire)
I lye, (deare Lord) halfe out, but more halfe in;
Help, help, ô help, Lord heare, Lord heare my prayer
Now, now, ô now, if euer, help me now,
I sincke, I sincke, help ere I sincke too low.

Remember Lord, Lord call to minde againe
The drops (strange drops) of Water mixt with Bloud
Which from thy paine-prest Body ranne amaine,
What time on ground it lay in pensiue moode:
If then thou praid'st that Cup might passe frō thee,
I well may pray let this Cup passe from mee.

A Cup of cares, confected by sowre sinne,
Baning my Soule with bitter operation:
Let this Cup passe before I doe beginne;
Least it effect my crazed soules damnation.

O thou that felt'st fraile mans infirmitie,
Respect fraile Me, else in despaire I die.

Whose Faith (too like a feather in the winde)
Is tossed with the least temptations blast:
With doubtings daunted; when the faithfull finde
A calme in conscience till such stormes are past:
But I (vile wretch) am tossed to and fro,
With eu'ry Storme that rise, or Blast that blow.

See Lord (ah see) see, see, how all my Veynes
Do pant with paine, through sense of my misdeedes:
Behold my Heart, wherein all sorrow raignes,
(Griefe-wounded heart) behold it how it bleedes:
O poure therein thy precious Balmes of grace,
That from thy wounded Heart doe runne apace.

Where's Much forgiu'n, Loue must there be much;
Forgiue me Much, much more shall be my loue
I haue Much to forgiue, no sinner such;
My Sinne surmounting, Loue shall be aboue:
Forgiue me then, and I in Loue will striue
To match that more then Much thou dost forgiue.

Be thou for me vnto the Old of dayes,
My Daysman so, to stay his angers heate;
That for thy sake he would vouchsafe to raise
His vengeance siege, which my Soules wrack doth threat.
O tel him to his Grace, I (weakling) yeeld,
And giue him praise and glory of the Field.

[6]

O pray him bend his pu'sance on the proud,
Whose brazen Necks will rather breake then bowe:
I, creeping on my knees, doe seeke for shrowde,
Till Tempests of his fury ouer-blow:
And like a Spaniell at his Maisters threat,
In humble wise fall prostrate at his feete.

With eyes vp-lifted slowly by degrees,
And lifted so, are throwne downe straight againe,
With face confounded on his humbled knees,
Inuoking mercy, yet doth mute remaine:
O so, euen so, doe I (poore wretched I)
At foote but of his Foote-stoole crowching lye.

If this may moue, and mouing may prouoke
Thy sans-beginning Sire in Loue to stay
Of his iust vengeance the resistlesse stroke
(A touch whereof doth Rockes to pouder bray)
I will ascribe the praise (ô Christ) to thee
Sith for thy sake alone, he spareth me.

My strength's not stony, nor my flesh yet brasse;
O no, then weaknesse much more weake it is;
Apt still to fall, more brittle farre then glasse;
Compos'd of that, that's more then most amisse:
O how vnable then am I to beare
His heauy vengeance stroke, that rocks doth teare?

With hands of Mercie stay my sincking Soule,
Which were, in mercy, mercilesly wounded,

For me (vile wretch) and for my trespasse foule,
That Grace might o'er abound where Sin abounded.
They are not shortned since they racked were
For Sinne, that Sinne might sinnelesse so appeare.

With those same hands (deare Lord) my Soule sustain
Opprest with Poise that made thy man-hood grone:
My load's as great, though farrelesse be my paine,
Whose sinne's as great as all the worlds, alone:
Then Worlds of Sin when on my backe I beare,
What meruell is't I faint, if not despaire?

Froth of Infirmitie, and Weaknesse skumme,
I am no other; how then should I beare
The heauy sentence of true Iustice doome
If to this Load of Sinne it added were?
None but a God and Man can beare that waight,
Sith God & Man bow'd vnder-neath that fraight.

I am farre spent, ô be not farre from me,
I panting labour neere the latest gaspe.
My Soule dismai'd, not knowing where to flee,
With hands of Hope (wan Hope) at thee doth graspe.
Fasten their fingers, giue them strength to hold,
As Ancors sure, in roughest Tempests would.

Kind Lord, sole comfort, hope of each poore wretch,
With Eyes conuerting Peter, looke on me:
Those glittring Sunnes their beames of comfort, stretch
To cursed'st sinners if they contrite be:

[7]

Then, let those sacred Sun-beames gild with grace
My blacke dispairing Soule, and rue her case.

The longing of the Soule to be with God.

Soule-searching Lord, and sole selfe-searching God,
Let my poore Soule thy vnknowne sweetnesse know.
Thy staying Staffe, & sin-correcting Rod
On me, on me (sweet Loue) in loue bestow.

Strength of my weaknes, my great weaknes strength,
guide thou my Goings, stay my stumbling feete:
My stumbling feet establish (Lord) at length,
in pathes that are as pure, as sure and sweet.

Eye of mine Eye, let my dimme Eye behold thee;
(Dim'd with the hellish mist of damn'd desires)
Ioy of my heart, ô let my heart infold thee,
and take my Spirit, that still to thee aspires.

O Beauties Beautie, wound my heart with Loue:
Life of my life, let my life liue in thee;
In thee I haue my being, liue and moue,
Of me but thou, then who should mouer be?

Celestiall Bridegroome, kisse thy Spouse, my Soule,
With kisses sweet of vnconceiued peace:

On thy transpierced palme her name enrowle,
With thy sinne-purging bloud my sinnes release.

Mellefluous Sweetnesse (sweetning sweetest sweets)
Sweeten my Sowre (sowre Leauen of offence)
Season my fleshes Lump with matter meete
For Sacrifice sweete smelling to thy sense.

O Goodnesse, let me (Badnesse) thee embrace
With hold-fast armes of euer-lasting loue:
O Well of Life, in this dry barren place,
Quench thou my thirst for thee which here I proue.

Be thou to me a plague-preuenting Towre,
When plagues engirt my Soule with fierce assault:
My forcelesse force, then strengthen with thy power,
that if o'er-borne, yet not through my Wils fault.

Doe ope the entries of my deafned Eares,
Deafe with the dinne of words, breath'd by despair:
O thundring Voyce, that Hel from Heauen heares,
Breake through the bars that let thy words repaire.

O let the deepes, in dreadfull harmonie,
Their Billowes tune vnto that awfull voyce;
Let Heauen and Earth (in ioynt conspiracie)
with it accord, to drownd Sinnes hellish noyse.

Turn thou mine Eies, with fearful Lightnings flash,
From Eye-bewitching Obiects of offence:

[8]

Deaden my flesh, my bones to pouder dash,
That dead to Sinne, may quicke in thee, haue sense.

Encrease thy Streames, lay ope the water-springs,
That Earths foundations (proolesse) may appeare;
My earthly thoughts, all soild with earthly things,
Thy troubles streames (through mercy straind) will cleare.

O light vnseene (enlightning all that see)
Lighten mine eyes that they may see thy light,
That light that with no darknesse can agree,
O light of lights present that to my sight.

Sauour of life, giue new life to my smell;
That on the sent of thy diuine perfumes,
I may runne after thee through Heauen and Hell,
Through comfort, or throgh care that life consumes.

O touch my sensuall ill-affected Taste
With finger of thy sweet life-giuing Loue,
That it may proue the sweetnesse which thou hast,
Which may thy sweetnesse to my soule approue.

Giue me a Minde to minde thee, Heart to loue thee;
Soule to adore thee, Spirit to discerne thee:
A Reas'n that may in reason most approue thee,
And Reason most, for that doth most concerne thee.

O liuely Sweet! ô sweet Life-giuing Life;
O let my Loue in thy Loues life be bounded,

The life of loue portcullized from strife,
which liuely life, with louely loue's surrounded!

O life! my life, life without which I die,
(O laborinth of life, ô maze of loue!)
Where shall I finde thee? sweet loue, when shall I
my loue to loue, and life to life remoue?

O where art thou, thou great all-mouing mouer?
Can clouds encompasse thy vncompast Greatnes?
(Thou endlesse life, vnlimitable louer)
No, no sweet loue, then show to me thy sweetnes!

Be neere me in my heart, my minde, my mouth,
Neere in my hearing, and each other sense:
Neere in mine age, and neere me in my youth,
neere in mine end, to end without offence.

Through ardent loue, I pine away for thee;
For want of thee (deare sweet) my Soule is sad;
Then longd-for louely loue, appeare to me,
And with thy glorious presence make me glad.

Thy sense-refreshing sent my Spirit reuiues;
To minde thee's Nectar to my thirstie Soule,
Thy Inspiration, Consolation giues,
Such consolations as all cares controule.

But yet, ô yet, euen as the chased Hart
For water thirsts, so thirsts my Soule for thee;

[9]

For thee (sweet loue) for my soules soule thou art,
Without which soule can my soule liuing be?

O when shall I (deare Lord) vnworthy I
Appeare in thy pure Palace Christiline?
My mounting Spirit (wing'd with Desire) doth flye
Aboue it selfe, to see that Court of thine!

Ioy of my soule, when, when (aye me) ô when
Shall I with eyes immortall, see thy glory?
Alas I liue a dying life till then,
Till when my longing soule can be but sory.

O why turnst thou (my Ioy, my hearts desire!)
Thy Sunne-ecclipsing glorious face from me?
Where art thou hid? Earth, Water, Aire or Fire
Cannot containe the smallest glimpse of thee!

Then where art hid? (ô changelesse fairest Faire)
For whom my rauisht soule, in loue doth languish,
The smell of whom lifes ruines doth repaire,
Though life assailed be with mortall anguish.

But ah (aye me) I see, I see thee not,
And that I cannot, kils my louing heart;
Yet when I heare thy voyce I haue forgot
What me annoid, and ioy suppresseth smart.

But why (ah why) from me hid'st thou thy face?
Perhaps thou saist, Man cannot, liuing, see it:

Bee't so (sweet Lord) I faine would death embrace,
To see the same; so be it, ô so be it.

Here let me dye, that I may see thee There,
There, where my Soule so much desires to see it:
That life as death I hold that holds me here,
Then let me dye, so be it, ô so be it.

Faine would my Soule this fardle of my Flesh
Lay downe at gastly Deaths vnfleshy feet,
That, being consum'd, I may resume afresh
Immortall flesh, for thy pure presence meet.

O Christ, my Iesus, take my spirit to thee,
(My spirit aspiring clogg'd with fleshes waight)
It's jaild too long, it longs let loose to be,
And euery moment for release doth waite.

My Ioy draw thou my heart, that ioyes in nought
but in thy ioy, sole ioy of blissefull hearts:
To thy true ioy, whose griefs such blisse hath bought,
which blisse my griefs (with ioy) to blisse conuerts.

Enter into me, Sweetnesse, make me sweet,
Sweet Ioy possesse me, make me (sad) reioyce:
Eternall light shine on me, make me meet
To see and know, and loue thee as my Choise.

The cause I loue not, is, I know thee not:
I know thee not in not perceiuing thee;

[10]

I not perceiue; for, darknesse light doth blot,
Light shines in darkenesse, yet It cannot see.

Who sees thee, knows; who knows thee stil doth loue thee,
Who sees, & knows, & loues thee, loues his soule:
To see, to know, to loue thee, grace must moue me;
For flesh doth fancie by-pathes, filthy foule!

Who knowes thee, shall of force himselfe forget,
Who loues thee as his life, his life will loath;
Yea, lose his life, that he his life may get,
Immortall making Soule and Body both.

But I alas (accursed that I am)
For externe ioy, from interne blisse doth range;
My fairest sollace, is my foulest shame,
My sense betraid, the best for worst doth change.

Here-hence it is, I like not that thou lou'st:
I (wretch) loue outward, but thou inward Ioy:
I fleshly pleasures, spirituall thou approu'st;
I abiect things, which things thee most annoy.

Thou art in Heauen, and I in Earth doe dwell,
Nay, Heau'n of Heau'ns is thine abiding place;
But I in Earth, as low as lowest Hell
Remaine, and ioy in paine, in senselesse case.

Thou light, I darke; thou good, I passing bad,
Thou Ioy, I griefe; thou loue, I lump of hate;

Thou wise, I fond; thou meeke, with pride, I mad;
Thou rich, (most rich) and I in staruing state.

Then how (deare Lord) should so great difference
Be reconcil'd, and linckt in vnitie?
Ah here's my feare, here's all my diffidence!
Then help, ô help, help holy Trinitie.

In that all-doing powerfull power of thine,
Mend mine amisse, and me to Thee combine.

The Complaint of a Sinner.

In the vexation of an humbled Spirit,
Deuoured in the depth of wretched State:
With feare and trembling I approch thy fight,
As one, deare Lord, as poore, as desolate!

Neare to thy mercies flouds, my selfe I set,
Vpon the Banckes of thy rich Graces streames;
That my dry Soule may so therewith be wet,
Before the Sunne of Iustice scorching Beames.

Lo, I a masse of rude vnformed Clay,
Present my selfe to thine All-making skill;
To doe all my deformities away,
And to informe my Wit, reforme my Will.

[11]

Great is my boldnesse so to tempt thy Grace
With such presumption; but (deare Lord) let me
Make bold thy loue (still tendred) to embrace,
Lest strange to It, I might be strange to Thee.

Yet, when I waigh mine owne vnworthinesse,
Together with thy Loues high dignitie;
I am too bold with It, I doe confesse,
To entertaine It to such misery.

I am too vile to loue, or to be lou'd
Of thee (deare Lord) the life of dearest Loue;
Yet by thy Loue, to loue I still am mou'd,
Though I thy loue, to hate, doe euer moue.

Thou dost command (giue, what cōmand thou dost,
Then what thou wilt command, It shall be done,)
That I should loue beyond mine vttermost,
As thou dost loue beyond comparison.

In Loue thou mad'st me, onely but to loue;
And me re-mad'st in loue, to loue alone:
Thou threatnest me, if I vnlouing proue;
And wouldst that we, though two, shold be as One.

Yea, for my loue thou (ceaselesse) so dost woo me,
That seeing me (in loue) quite dull and dead,
Thou giuest me Thee; that I should giue me to thee,
In forme of Flesh, as thou in forme of Bread.

Lord, what am I, that thou shouldst woo me so.
And seeke t'inflame my loue with thy Loues heat?
What am I to Thee, but a world of woe?
A little World, of Sinne, past measure great!

A Crosse of Crosses; for, so crosse I am,
That eu'ry thing I doe, is quite a thwart;
And, that which is most crosse, I blesse the same
As that which most agrees with my curst-heart.

And what art thou to me but peace and rest,
Saluation, Ioy, and whatsoe'er is good?
By whom I (most accursed) most am blest,
Who mad'st me blamelesse in thy blessed bloud.

Then of such pledges of thy Loue possest,
And that but loue alone thy loue doth craue:
O giue me that which thy loue doth request,
And I will giue thee what thy Loue would haue.

Ill, I can giue Thee; that, is onely mine;
But Good, I haue from Thee, thy gift it is:
If thou wilt none of mine, then giue me thine;
Take that from me, deare Lord, and giue me this.

Thou art not pleas'd but with what's onely thine;
Yet, I am thine; and yet not pleas'd thou art:
If thou haue nought with me, but what is mine,
Although I gaue to thee me dearest heart.

[12]

For, as it is my Heart, it's most vncleane;
And all vncleannesse thou dost most detest:
Then, thou art both the cause, effect, and meane,
That thou dost loue it, as thine interest.

Yet, as mine owne I haue (what haue I not
with it, that is not absolutely good?)
My Christ; but, ah alas I haue forgot
Thou gau'st him first, & bought'st me with his bloud.

But yet that's all I haue, (that's all in all)
To giue thee, as goods common vs betwixt;
To me Hee came from Thee; to thee Hee shall
For me, in passion, with my passions mixt.

If mine be such, as make his much the more,
They his are much more meritorious:
And yet if Mine be couer'd with his gore,
Then will deserue thy loue and fasten vs!
Then take him Lord, I haue none other shift
To show my Loue, but with thine onely Gift.

The thirst of the Soule after God, the Fountaine of Life.

Mine heau'nly Head, giue me, thy Member, grace
Thee to desire; desiring, thee to seeke:

Seeking, to finde; finding, to loue thy face:
And, louing, lothe what is thee most vnlike.

To my Heart, Faith; to mine Eyes flouds of teares;
To my Soule, griefe; to that griefe, ioy of Spirit:
To my Faith, Hope; to my Hope, Loue and Feare;
And, vnto all, giue all direction right.

O Loue essentiall! increated Loue!
Loue infinite! the Fount of Loue and Grace:
With pow'r o'erflowing all the powers aboue;
Or whatsoeuer is in blessed case!

How can I choose but loue thee? how can I
But with such flaming Loue be fired quite?
That fires the whole Worlds Vniuersitie,
Yea, well-nigh burnes, & melts the same out-right!

O God! thou art the most abstracted Good;
Which, yet abstracted, art much more abstract!
Which is Loues Obiect, and Lifes liuelihood:
Which doth my Loue to Loue, in Loue, coact!

How can I choose but flame, so set on fire
With loue, which burns what ere, in loue was made?
What, but that Loue, can quench my Loues desire?
Or me, to Loue, so pow'rfully perswade?

And if I cannot loue Thee for thy Loue,
Nor for thy goodnesse being more then Good,

[13]

Yet, me thereto should Profit more then moue;
For, of all Good th'art the boundlesse floud.

Youth loues the Eld, from whom it Being drawes;
The Members loue the Head, by whom they liue
And all Effects, by nature, loue their Cause;
Sith It to those Effects doth Essence giue:

Then sith thou art my Cause, my Head, my Sire,
Looke what Those owe to These, by whom they be,
(Nay, more; for, thou art all in all intire)
That Lord, and more then That, I owe to Thee!

Thou gau'st me Being, ere my Sire it gaue:
For, with Thee was I, ere I was of Thee!
And now preseru'st the Being which I haue,
Better then by the Head the Members be.

Thou dost effect what in me wanting is;
(And from my second Cause my wants proceed)
Then what can cause so good effect as this,
But thou whose Will is still in act and deed?

Looke what I am at best, I am by Thee;
And when at worst, in thee my hope still is:
For, as no one, but Thou, could fashion me;
So none, but Thou, can mend my least amisse.

Then what I am in deed or else in hope,
(When I am best in both) of thee I am:

Thou art my Soule and bodies vtmost scope;
Thou mad'st them both, then oughst to haue the same.

If then Thou be my Beauties beauty; yea,
The beauty of my Soules diuinest Part,
(For Thou of beauty art the bancklesse Sea)
Who then but thou should wholy haue my Heart?

O Loue, that burn'st in Heauens eternall Breast!
O Dart that woundest the whole Trinitie!
O more, much more, then Crosse-wound me at least;
And let that Fire still burne me till I die.

O let my Soule melt Lord in thine applause.
Through holy-raging Flames of quenchlesse Loue;
O cause of causes, this vouchsafe to cause;
And let these Flames their force vpon me proue.

O holy, holy, holy Trinitie!
Most holy Father! and most gracious Sonne!
Most louing Holy-Ghost, in Vnitie
A Trinitie, and but one God alone!

When, when, ô when will you three dwell in mee?
And make me one with you, as one you are?
Of three make, foure; and one of one and three:
Your Essence keepe, let me your goodnesse share.

When will it be? ô when? ô were it now!
Shall I ne'er see it? ô how long delay!

[14]

O tedious tarrying! how, ô Lord, ô how
Shall I straight rest in thee, mine onely stay?

Haste thee, my Iesus, haste (deare Loue) make haste,
I cannot stay; then come (my Ioy) ô come;
My haste is great, and I but Time doe waste,
Till I thy Loue, and Time doe ouercome.

O my Soules Centre! my Wils sweet repose!
Light of my Mindes Eye! my Thoughts Paradise!
Heau'n of my Heart! Companion of my Woes!
Salue of my Sores! Cure of my Maladies!

Ioy of mine Exile! and my Guide therein;
Breath of my Nostrils! End of my Desires!
Iudge of my Life, Forgiuer of my Sinne!
O all in all, whereto mine All aspires!

If thou be these, and all in all to mee,
Can I forget thee during but a Thought?
If so I should, let me remembred be
With pinching plagues to minde thee as I ought

If I so much forget my selfe and thee,
Let my right Hand forget her cunning quight:
Nay, let me not remember what I see;
That Memory so wrong'd, may minde thy right.

No sleepe mine Eyes, no rest mine Head shall haue,
Till thou my Head, within my Heart doe rest:

Then enter Loue, to enter ô vouchsafe,
It is but what thou offer'st I request:
Then let this offer of my Will and Loue,
Moue me to that, to which thou me dost moue.

An acknowledgement of Gods gifts, with desire of vnion with the Giuer.

If we for fading Gifts are euer bound
To loue our Friends (for Gifts still loue do breed)
And if the Fire doe more, or lesse abound,
According as the Fuell It doth feed:

Then ô! how great a Flame of endlesse loue
Should (ô deare Lord) still feede vpon mine All:
Sith past all measure I thy bounties proue;
And feed'st this Fire with Vnction-spirituall!

If the whole frame of Nature; nay, sweet Lord,
If Heau'n and Earth, and all they doe containe,
Be but meere Gifts, which thou dost me afford,
Then how shold Loue but in me more then raigne?

And that so much the more, because there be
In thee, besides, all Causes causing loue;
Which, in their high'st perfection, are in thee!
Then, can such Motiues but much more then moue?

[15]

If Goodnesse I respect, in thee it is
As farre from Limit as Similitude:
For thou art (Lord) the boundlesse Sea of Blisse,
Because thou art the high'st Beatitude.

If Beautie I regard, then thou art Hee
That art the Fount from whence all Beauty flowes:
Whose Face the Angels still desire to see,
Whose Influence their Faces ouer-flowes!

If Bounty; then, who is so liberall
As thou (selfe-bounty) that dost, gratis, giue
All, and much more (in deede) then all, to All:
By which they more then liberally doe liue.

If Riches; who so rich as hee that owes
What not? If Being; or what can be beside:
If Friendship; who so kinde? who, for his Foes,
Did Death, with torment, willingly abide.

If Likenesse be a cause that loue effects;
Then who like that, by which I am, but thou?
For thou mad'st it like thee in all respects,
Saue that, like thee, it knowes not where, nor how!

And, if the End; for which we all things doe,
(The Finall End) be infinitely lou'd;
Then who mine Alpha, and Omega too,
But thou, to whom, by Nature, I am mou'd?

From thee to Thee, by onely Natures skill,
I come, and goe; but goe not as I came:
For, I came from thee iust, as thou art still,
But doe returne opprest with sinne and shame.

If then to be thine Image, with the rest,
Be seu'rall motiues (strong) of Loue intire,
Then what ought that to be bred of the best
Nay bred of all, but Loues eternall fire?

For, as the Sea is greater then each Floud,
Which from, and to her Bosome euer moues:
So, is thy Goodnesse greater then each Good;
And thy loue more then other lasting loues.

Ah Lord! what made thee make me, but that loue?
What to redeeme me but that tender moode?
Of nought thou mad'st me (which can nothing moue
Being Nought) and me redeemest, to make me good.

O let me stretch the armes of mine Affects,
To hold thee to the Breast of my desires:
O cause of sweetnesse, cause these sweet effects;
And make my Breast the Furnace for these Fires.

The Iuy still doth clip her neighb'ring Tree,
Because thereby it is aduanced oft:
Then will I cling to that on Caluaree;
Because, thereby, I shall be rais'd aloft.

[16]

The Iuy spreads her branches not so farre,
Nor by a Cedar so aduanc'd can be,
As my Soules pow'rs increast in vertue are,
And made to mount by vertue of this Tree.

Then ô that all my bodies Limbes were Armes,
That I, on eu'ry side, might it embrace!
Thy Crosse (ô Christ) doth blesse al thine from harmes;
And with ioy comforts them in woefull case!

O Christ that did the Crosses Tree ascend,
That so thou mightst draw all things vnto thee;
O draw me then, let my life with thine end;
That so my life, with thine, may endlesse be!

Thou that didst Deitie to Manhood knit
(Two Natures so in Nature different!)
Making one person of them, infinite,
To make me one with the Omnipotent,
Grant that the vertue of that VNION
May euer make vs more entire then ONE.

A thankfull remembrance of our preseruation notwithstanding our manifold sinnes.

With wounded Spirit I salute thy Wounds,
O all-bewounding Sacrifice for Sinne!

For, my Soules health from thy Hearts hurt redounds,
Because thou dyedst to liue my Heart within.

With what loue shall I quite such wondrous Loue,
That comes from such vnheard-of Clemencie?
Who art thou, and who am I, that can moue
Heau'ns God t'immure himselfe in misery?

That thou whose Glory, Glory it selfe admires,
Sholdst deigne to dwel in durt, more vile then dung:
Sith Holinesse, sweet Lord, thy House requires,
Which hardly rests where many vices throng.

Heau'n is thy Seate, the Earth thy Footstoole is;
(For Heau'n and Earth thy Maiestie doth fill!
Then why, great God, art thou well pleas'd with this
That thou art made but Mud for mire so ill?

For, if the Heau'n, nay, Heau'n of Heauens be
But too too small thy greatnesse to containe;
Then how can my heart, lesse then nought, hold thee?
How in a Bit of Wormes-meate canst thou raigne?

O Wonder! that all Maruels farre surmounts,
He that vpon the Cherubins doth ride,
And viewes all Deeps from thence, himself dismounts
That he may in my Heart, (deepe Hell) abide!

It not suffiz'd thy glowing Charitie
To giue me Angels for my Guards and Guides,

[17]

Nay, wast not onely pleas'd for me to dye,
But dwelst in me to giue me life besides!

There dost thou visit, in the kindest kinde,
The Sicke (sore sicke!) to giue him health thereby?
Sore sick in Body, but more sicke in Minde:
And raise the Dead, that willingly did dye.

My Soule exulteth (with ioy rauished)
When as I minde that Miracle; how once
A Prophets dead Bones rais'd to life the Dead,
Onely by touching those life-giuing Bones!

If those dead Bones had such reuiuing pow'r,
Then, what shall not Gods liuing Body doe?
The liuing Body of Lifes Gouernour,
Must needes giue endlesse Life and Glory too.

And if dead Bones, conceiued in Sinne, haue might
To giue life to a sinfull Bodie, dead;
What shall that doe conceiued by thy Spirit?
That, must needs life-inspire eu'n senselesse Bread.

My Soule though dead in Sinne, yet touching Thee
By Faith; and in thy bloud being sanctifide,
Can it but more then liue in Thee and me,
When Thou therein dost more then still abide?

And sith that Corpes was rais'd that crau'd not life,
By touching those dead Bones; then, Lord let me

(That, as my Husband, clip thee, as thy Wife)
Be rais'd to life, that beg the same of thee.

I cannot thinke (because I thinke of thee
as more then Grace it selfe!) that thou hast borne
My sinnes, and in my sinnes, dost beare with mee;
that of thy Grace I shall be quite forlorne.

O! can my Soule but melt to thinke how oft
thou mightst haue slaine me, yet didst vse thy knife
To prune, and make me grow in Grace aloft,
and flu'st my Foes therewith that sought my life?

How many thousand Soules now burne in Hell,
that haue (perhaps) sinn'd lesse then sinfull I?
Who held thy Hands when I did so rebell,
that I should liue when Soules lesse sinfull dye?

My sinnes cry to thee, and thou stop'st thine Eares
lest thou sholdst heare them; & the more they cry,
The more thy deafenesse to them still appeares,
as if thou didst their clamorous suite deny.

I doe but sinne, and thou dost me but saue;
if I flye fast from thee, thou followest faster:
Though I be tir'd with Sinne, thy Mercies haue
no meane to tire; but meanes my Sinnes to master.

The more I sinne, the more thou humblest mee;
so, mak'st me know my selfe, by knowing Sinne:

[18]

Nay more, it puls me from my selfe to thee;
so, though I Iose my selfe, yet thee I winne.

O strange disposing of the worst of Ill!
meere Concord of maine Contradiction:
That which puls from, doth draw together still,
where loue drawes Discords to make Vnion.

So then, my Faults, as if they Vertues were,
wrought for my good, by thee that hast the skill
To beare with men, to make them sinne forbeare;
and so, through Grace, to pull good out of Ill!

Yet didst thou whisper in my Soules right Eare,
that I should doe no ill for such good end;
But mad'st me (sinning) Sinne to hate and feare;
(in loue) for that it did thee (Love) offend.

With Thornes thou dost hedge-in my narrow Way,
that if I ere so little step awry,
They straight doe pricke me, and so make me pray
for help to thee, in whom all help doth lye.

And as the Hunter stoppeth vp each Gap,
wher-through the wild Bore may escape vncaught:
So, dost thou stop my way with each misse-hap,
when I would runne away from thee to nought.

Am I escapt from out thy mercies Hands?
thy Hand of Iustice puls me in againe:

So, Mercy holds me, by which Iustice stands
to help to hold me safe by ease and paine.

Haue I a Will, by Death, to damne my Soule,
(by desprate Death to damne, not mine, but thine?)
Thou dost that Will with thy good Will controule,
And mak'st my Will thy Will in spight of mine.

Am I resolu'd to sinne presumptuously,
and, that of purpose to despight thee too?
Thou mak'st the Will without the Deed to dye;
and, mak'st me damne the Deed ere it I doe.

Would I, for any indiuine respect,
sell Heau'n for Earth, and God (so) for the Deuill?
Thou God dost make that Would worke good effect;
for, when it proues the Ill, it shuns the euill.

Is my Hand stretched out, my faith to plight
to blacke Perdition? twixt my hand and It
Thou putst thy hand of Iustice, which doth smite
away my hand, before that knot be knit.

The Weapons me thou gau'st my selfe to saue,
I (monster) did against thy Goodnesse bend;
And with thy glorious gifts I thee did braue;
so, did I shame my selfe, and Thee offend.

The Tongue thou mouedst that blasphemed Thee;
thou rul'dst the limbes that did thy Members rend:

[19]

Thou gau'st Wit pow'r with Thee to disagree;
and gau'st Will force the giuer to offend.

So, that not onely I ingrate haue bin
for thy good gifts, but haue the same imployd
As weapons of vnrighteousnesse, in Sinne,
and so with thine owne Grace haue thee annoid.

Thou mad'st all Creatures for mine onely vse,
t'allure me to thy gainfull Loue thereby;
But, I abused thee, by their abuse;
so, with thy Good deeds did thee damnifie.

So, that through whom the seeing of thy Face
was to be tane, through them I could not see:
For I, as Gods, did them (in Loue) embrace
which thou had'st giu'n, to guide me vnto Thee.

That I might serue thee, me did all things serue;
I did command, that me thou might'st intreat:
They did me Good, when I did ill deserue;
and when I made thee small, they made me great.

Thou gau'st me Faith, and Hell the Fruites hath had;
thou gau'st me Grace, and Sinne hath vs'd the same;
Thou gau'st me Wit, which Will abus'd, as mad;
thou gau'st me Sense, wherewith my selfe I shame.

Thou gau'st me Health, which, sickely, I haue vs'd,
in riot, surfet, and in all excesse:

Thou gau'st me Strength, which I haue still abus'd
in waging warre with thine owne Mightinesse.

Thou, for my profit, plaguedst other men;
that so, from Sinne, I might be kept, with ease:
But I (vnplagued) plagu'd my Brethren,
so farre off was I from remorse by These.

These Gifts I (most vngratefull) gratis had;
which (though abus'd) I vsed when I would:
And, being Gifts too good, made me too bad;
For, they made me too proud, and too too bold.

The rage of Lyons, Tygers, and the like,
Is lenified with gifts, and turn'd to loue;
But, with thy gifts, to grieue thee I did seeke;
Yet still thou mad'st me their increase to proue.

Thou Man becam'st to make a God of mee;
(at least a God, that Heau'n and Earth doe serue:)
And I became a Diuell, in Deed, to Thee;
that wrong'd thee more, the more thou didst deserue.

High'st Iustice, shining through thy Passions Cloud,
could not enforce me it to loue, or dread:
Thou had'st no hole, wherein thy head to shroud;
but, all this All's too little for my head.

Though thou art God, Foes Fists thy face enorme;
if any touch my Coate, I touch them home

[20]

By word, and deed; that yet am but a Worme;
thou striu'st for lowest, I for highest Roome.

Thou wouldst be slaine, to slaughter Sinne in me;
but, by thy death, I life-inspir'd the same:
So, thy great Mercy made me martyr Thee;
and, with the Iewes, I made thy griefes my game.

The Med'cine, so, thou gau'st to cure my Wounds,
I venomed to make my hurt the more,
Which both with Sinne & shame my Soule confounds,
sith Sinne, by Grace, I made more sinfull sore.

If from the Law, to take a cause to sinne,
is much more damn'd then sinne without the Law;
What is it then, when Grace so vs'd hath bin:
and force to fight with Grace, from grace to draw?

The wilde-fire of my Passions burned me;
my Thoughts Distractions did me quite deuide;
The Worme of Conscience rag'd where thou wouldst be
yet these I did (as one in thee) abide!

For, mine Affections cryed nought but Peace,
when those Affections most did Peace impunge;
And when I was in Hell, they seem'd in ease,
so much the old misled Affections young.

And, Fury-like, towards hel I alwayes made;
but, thou more wayes then all wayes broughtst me back.

The Trade of Vertue, I held Vices Trade;
sith, more then Vice, she seem'd to liue in lacke.

How oft haue I beene at the gates of Hell
and could not enter, though I went about:
Thou didst the Diuell from his charge compell;
so, Porter wast thy selfe to keepe me out.

Nay, when I haue beene euen in his Iawes,
and that his Fangs were entring in my Soule,
Till thou didst pul me thence, thou mad'st him pause;
so, came I, as from Heau'n, as Meeke, as Whole.

O! how can I such pow'rfull Grace requite;
that forceth Iustice with Her force to ioyne
From wracke to saue me in mine owne despight,
and made restore, who did my selfe purloyne?

Had I the liues of Angels and of Men,
and, offer'd all to thee in sacrifice,
And, if those liues were thrice resum'd agen,
and, offer'd vp as oft, t'would not suffice.

T'would not suffice to recompence thy loue;
it were too cheape to quite thy deare desert;
O then can I (wretch) so vngratefull proue,
as not to giue thee one poore wretched Heart?

Can I, ô can I be so much besides
Grace, Faith, Sense, Mother-wit, my selfe and all,

[21]

That hauing yet these gifts to be my guides,
doe yet but stand by these, by these to fall?

If I be lost, it must not be in Hell,
(thogh ne'er so dark) for there thou foundst me out:
It must be somewhere, which no where can tell;
for where that is, both Time and Place doe doubt.

It cannot be in Hell; for, thou art there;
then Heau'ns thy Seat (ah! would I there were lost)
Nay, not in Place; for, thou art eu'ry where!
Then not in Time, which, ere It was, thou knowst!

If then in Heau'n, nor Hell, in Time, nor Place,
where then? in my selfe lost, I cannot be:
Yet, lost I am, if I doe lose thy grace;
which found me when I stole my selfe from thee!

But yet, if needes I will be lost, at last,
(for grace, at last, saues none against their will)
No Lost-child euer was lockt halfe so fast
from losing; and, deserueth halfe so ill.

The worst of Ill, made worse with Ill made Whole,
is too too good for one made worse then That:
Too little he doth lose, to lose his Soule,
that, maugre grace, still does he cares not what.

Therefore (deare Lord) let me not enter in
this strict reuisall of my Sinne and grace

The lesse to make excusable my Sinne,
but, thereby more, much more, thy Loue embrace.

For these Confessions written by my Hand
against my selfe, against my selfe will goe
To thy Tribunal; and against me stand,
if now I doe not euer Sinne forgoe.

Then let thy Wunds be once more opened
(deare Christ) to wash me in thy reeking bloud:
Reuiue me, by thy death, that being dead
(still dead) to Ill, I may still liue to good.

O! iuycie Bunch of Soule-refreshing grapes,
(hard pressed in the Wine-presse of the Crosse!)
Make druncke my thirstie Soule, that (gasping) gapes
for thy pure bloud, to purge mine, being too grosse.

Mine Ire, Pride Lust, Presumption, Hate and Scorne,
yeah all my Sinnes which I can ne'er recite)
I cast into thy wounds which wide are torne;
O keepe them There then, from thy Fathers sight.

As much as those confound, these comfort me;
nay, more, much more sith more thou canst forgiue
Then I can sinne, although I quartred Thee,
if when the deed is done, through grace I grieue.

Mellefluous Sea of Comforts most diuine,
Meridian Light, whence springs true glories Day,

[22]

With both o'er whelme me, till through both I shine
in perfect glory by thy glories Ray.

Let not my Deedes, or inofficious Sloth
doe or omit, what should not, or be done:
For, both are cursed by thy blessed mouth,
sith Ill to doe, and good omit, is one:
But, let this league be constant to the end;
For they but mend to marre, that marre to mend.

And Wisedome, at our wisedome, doth but scoffe,
When we doe ill, that good may come thereof.

The sighes of a Pensiue Soule, groaning vnder the burden of sinne.

Who art thou Lord? thou Lord whose magnitude
admits no Name! and what, or who am I
That dare but thinke of such an Altitude,
farre past the reach of highest Angels Eye?

What am I but a Sacke of sickenesses;
Immodestie it selfe; Dust, Clay, Durt, Dung:
Slyme, Food for Wormes, lesse slymie Carkasses;
with filth, much more vncleanly, mixt among!

Meere gall of bitternesse, true Heyre of Hell,
begot twixt Sinne and Sathan, life of Death:

Rebellion in the abstract; Vices Shell:
the breath of Sinne, that baneth but with breath.

Gods griefe, Mens plague, and Angels sole annoy,
sith sad I make them by vncessant sinne:
Let to the sorrow which doth cause their Ioy
sith mine example hinders some therein.

In Counsaile, blinde; in Actions, most vnwise;
In thought, vnstaid; vnconstant in desire:
Then Nothing, lesse; yet great in mine owne Eyes:
for, past my selfe my selfe would faine aspire!

In summe; I am the totall summe of Ill;
ill in my flesh, and euill in my sp'rit,
Worse in my Wit, and worser in my Will:
this, Lord, is hee thou would'st to thee vnite!

But what? and who art thou? thou namelesse Great!
sith thou art great, beyond all quantitie!
How good art thou? thou goodnesse most compleate,
for, thou art great beyond all qualitie!

Beyond all measure, thou art (onely) wise,
thou art (alone) eternall without Time:
In pow'r almightie, with all-seeing Eyes;
in Iudgement, deepe; in Counsailes, most sublime.

But what! goe I about to bring thee here,
within the compasse of description:

[23]

Thou art as farre past Compasse, as past Peere,
being immense and infinite alone.

If Men or Angels could, nay more, couldst thou
by deed or word, thine Essence once define,
Thou art no more thy selfe, in deed, or show;
for, thou all Bounds dost in thy selfe confine.

Of Thee, therefore, no search can notice giue,
further then that thou art most infinite;
And that to know, is onely to beleeue
that so thou art in wisedome, grace, and might.

The Sunne, Moone, Stars, with bright beames glorifide,
in presence of thy glory, lose their Light:
The Cherubins (like Bastard Eaglets) hide
their Eyes, that cannot brooke thy glories sight.

The sturdy Pillers of th'Etheriall Frame
do trembling stand, when thou but knitst thy brow;
Yea, all the Pow'rs therein shrincke at the same,
and (with those Props) with feare and reu'rence bow.

Whose Voyce doth make the Mountaines melt like waxe,
whose Check confounds the order of this All
Whose Breath consumes thy foes, as fire doth flaxe;
in few; thou art what thou thy selfe canst call.

Then how dare I (vile Clod of base Contempt)
approch the presence of such Maiesty:

That is from all impuritie exempt,
and, I a Sincke of all sordiditie?

To touch the Arke was death; and, one did dye
for touching It, being at the point to fall:
Then woe is me, how dare I (wretch) come nye
thy sacred selfe, that standest staying All?

The Bethshamites receiu'd a mortall checke,
for prying on that Arke too curiously:
And many thousands, for it, went to wrecke;
then dare I (Worme) cling to thy Deity?

How can thy grace so vile a Vermine brooke?
much lesse embosome such a lothed Thing;
That leaues offence behinde but with a looke;
and, like a Viper, with a touch doth sting?

What Concord can there be twixt Contraries?
can good and euill be incorporate?
Then how shouldst thou selfe-goodnesse me comprise,
that am selfe-euill, which thou most dost hate?

For I haue beene, ô Lord, I shame to say,
what, in times past, I did not shame to doe;
Who (worse then Treas'n it selfe) did (ah) betray
God vnto Man, and Man to Sathan too.

There was a Time, I was that franticke Foole,
that said (at least in Heart) there is no God:

[24]

But since thy grace my Heart did better schoole
I thinke not so, by reason of thy Rod.

Thy Rod recou'red that my straying thought,
reducing It into the way of Truth:
I to my selfe, and thee, by force was brought;
and made repent that madnesse of my youth.

Thanks kindest Rod, I kisse thee, for thy grace,
which, like a Potion, did with Nature striue,
To conquere that which Nature did disgrace;
and made me (dead in Sinne) in grace to liue.

But Lord, how blest, and better had I bin,
if thy smooth Staffe had staid me in the Way;
For, thy rough Rod doth Loue, by terror, win;
and, Loue is lame, that doth by terror stay.

But yet let terror (as loues Harbinger)
make way to lodge thy Loue within my Heart;
Which of thy Loue would faine be Harbourer,
because thou mak'st it faine by force of smart.

But let thy loue be of my Heart embrac'd
meerely for Loue; and kept with louing feare:
Let not my Loue with terror be disgrac'd,
but let It, free from terrors Let appeare.

O let me loue thee, as thou louest mee,
thou lou'st me for my selfe and thy Loues sake:

Then for thy selfe (alone) let me loue thee,
without respect of what Loue lame doth make.

I now desire (with more then hot desire)
to be new molt, and cast into the Molde
Of all perfection, by Afflictions fire;
sith, for thy Temple, That, refines the Golde.

Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst; then make me cleane:
Draw me with Cords of Loue, made fast by Feare:
Though my Sinnes measure passe, thou hast no meane
in mercy; then, let mercy make me cleare.

If thou requir'st contrition for my faults,
with Sinne and Sorrow, lo, I labour sore;
A iarring Twin, each other that assaults
(within the wombe that breedes them) more and more.

If Satisfaction thou of me require,
Lo, here I offer vp my Flesh to thee,
To be consumed in Afflictions fire,
so thou vouchsafe to saue the Soule of me.

Poure out thy Vengeance Vials all there-on;
make, it like Vapor, to euaporate
The Humors ill, wherewith it's ouer-gone,
that Flesh from flesh, may so be separate.

O thou whose Loue enflames all good desires,
quench thou the thirst of my desire, that flames

[25]

To be consum'd in those thrice sacred fires,
which mend the formes of mind, & Spirits frames.

Giue me thy Loue, and throw me into Hell;
for, there thy Loue will pleasure me in paine;
Yea, paines, to bring me pleasures, will compell;
and make me Heau'n by Hell so to obtaine.

This onely Boone I craue, by Grace to be
armed with Patience, most inuincible,
In all thy fiery Tryals made of me;
that Sense make brooke them as insensible.

Which Patience still consociates constant Loue;
which can endure more then Paine can inflict:
O then let me that Loue, in mercy, proue;
then proue me with all proofes though ne'er so strict.

Thy will be mine, and mine be euer thine;
giue me no pow'r to will or not to will
But as thou wilt: and let no will be mine,
but that which, maugre Flesh, may thine fulfill.

Thou know'st what's best for me; then, is that best,
which thou (what ere it be) for me shalt doe:
Then, let me locke my cares within thy Chest,
when they, too strong, wold my weake Chest vndo.

Be thou the Centre of my Soules desires;
and, let them rest in Thee in all vnrest:

Be thou the Vnction, still to feede those fires,
till of eternall Light they be possest.
To which, as to the vtmost of their hope,
Bring thou them (Lord) that art their vtmost scope.

Of Lifes breuitie, the Fleshes frailtie, the Worlds vanitie, and the Diuels tyranny.

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?

The Soule desireth to know God.

From out the Soule of my most happy Soule,
I praise thee, migthy Maker of this All,
For that when I was nothing (faire nor foule)
thou mad'st me of thy Creatures Capitall!

For, to thine Image didst thou fashion me,
giuing my Soule Intelligence, and Will;
That so, at least, she might b'in loue with thee,
sith all things loue their like, by Nature, still.

Thou mightst haue made me some detested Worme;
some Toade or Viper, or some Crocadile:
Or else some Monster, both in moode and forme;
or ought what is most harmefull and most vile.

And, that thou didst not, it was of thy grace;
for, what could I deserue when I was not?
No, not a Being in the basest place,
much lesse Earths Lordship, which is now my Lot!

And, lest a Creature, so resembling thee,
should instantly to nothing fall againe,

Thou me endu'dst with immortalitie;
that I might, in all Worlds, still liue and raigne.

Yet seem'd that nothing to thy boundlesse Loue,
vnlesse, of nothing, thou hadst made my Soule
But little lesse, if not some way abōue
the Angels; for, they serue, and I controule.

Oxen and Sheepe with Grasse are satisfide;
Fish, Fowle, and Wormes with Food of baser kinde:
But my Soules Meate is more then Deifide;
for nothing but her God contents her Minde!

For, She is made of that Capacitie
(because like thee She is directly made)
That Heau'n and Earth her cannot satisfie,
sith She shall flowrish most, when these shall fade.

For, though she once began, yet now she is
eternall made, and truely infinite;
Then nought but thou that hast these properties,
can satiate her insatiate appetite.

Wretch that I am, this World, why doe I loue?
or seeke the fading glory of the same?
Why doe I riches seeke and pleasures proue,
that doe the Soule vnioynt, and Minde vnframe?

These Husks suffice not; and, these painted Fires
warme but the bare imagination:

[31]

While the Soule starues throgh cold, with vaine desires
bred by that powers misinformation.

O no, her Food's much more substantiall,
(Supersubstantiall I should rather say)
Because it is so passing spirituall,
as none but purest Spirits it relish may.

Then know my Soule, know what (by kind) thou art
thy Makers Type, and viue Similitude;
Whole in the Whole, and whole in eu'ry Part;
another God, of boundlesse magnitude!

How can thy Palate then, taste any thing
(without distast) that is not most diuine?
Why drink'st of this Worlds Dike, and leau'st the Spring,
that euer ouer-flowes with Angels Wine?

All vnder Heau'n is too vnsweete for thee;
for, it's but Elementall; still, in strife:
Nay, nought in Heau'n, but the sweet Trinitie,
can feede thee fat, or keepe thee but in life.

That foode, whose sweetnesse rauisheth the sense
of sweetest soules diuinest Faculties,
Must feed thy Will, and thine Intelligence,
else can they not to grace or glory rise.

That Lord, whose Beauty Sunne and Moone admires,
whose Maiestie the Hoasts of Heau'n adore:

Whose Grace is praised by the Angels Quires,
He that was, is, and shall be euermore:

God, infinite in pow'r and Maiestie,
hath made thee but to fill thee with his Loue;
Which being infinite in quantitie,
thine All, and Parts (all whole in each) can moue.

Hee, onely Hee, can thy desires fulfill,
albe't they did exceede Immensitie:
And, being Three in One can fitly fill
thine Vnderstanding, Will and Memory!

Then, ô my Soule runne out, this Guest to meet;
and him into thee gladly introduce:
Who is as sweet as great, and good as sweet;
that vs'd augments, and fades for want of vse.

Then, locke him in the Closet of thine Heart,
where thou, in secret, maist vnfold thy Loue:
There clip him fast, let him not thence depart,
till Hee with him, from hence, doe thee remoue.

Who will be soone intreated There to stay,
because it is the rest of his desire:
And needes hee must take thee with him away,
if Nuptiall Loue doe make you two intire.

Which dignitie, of my Celestiall Soule,
when well I weigh (deare Lord) I maruell not

[32]

Though in my Mud, thy Sonne himselfe did roule,
to seeke, in my true shape, to knit this knot.

But muse I may at mine ingratitude,
my madnesse, dulnesse, and grosse impudence;
That doe neglect thy Loues beatitude,
and prostitute my Soule to foule Offence.

That I should, carelesly, his Loue neglect,
that is the beaming beauty of thy State;
And woo the vgly Diuell, in effect,
thy sacred Image to adulterate.

This doth exceede all wonderments excesse;
this Prodigie, is more then monsterous;
That any Soule should loue meere vglinesse,
before meere beauty, more then glorious!

How can I thinke vpon thy boundlesse Loue;
and not pursue my selfe with endlesse Hate?
That, for my sake, didst hels of torments proue,
to pull me out of Hell, and damned state.

And, when I view my Bodies Edifice,
I finde so many of thy bounties there,
As might the Heart of Hate to Loue intice;
for, in each haire-breadth of it they appeare.

Th' Arteries, Sinewes, Nerues, Veynes, Ligaments,
Heart, Lungs, Lights; and, in few, the All, in All,

Are thy Loue-tokens, and kinde Complements,
that mak'st thy selfe, throgh Lordly loue, my thrall.

Wherein if I should still Philosophize,
I should finde matter still to praise thy name;
For this Mindes Organ yeelds such Harmonies
as still in silence celebrate thy Fame.

This Wonder is the Worlds Epitomie,
a little World, true abstract of the Great,
Yet greater then the Great in dignitie,
though that in quantitie be more compleate.

O! how should I to grace thy Grace be glad,
for that thou mad'st me not in deed, or sight,
Blinde, lame, deafe, epilepticke, mute, or mad;
but sound in Soule and Minde; in Body, right.

Yet (Lord) ô yet I want, (for nothing is
brought from Not-being to a Being blest
Immediately) sith yet I am amisse;
but all things, by degrees, attaine their best.

For, in the Worke of Nature, Sense perceiues
that first of all the Matter she prepares;
Then fits it to the Forme which it receiues;
but formes it not perhaps in many yeares.

Yet she doth not, as lacking Pow'r, or Art,
leaue ought imperfect which she takes in hand;

[33]

Yet, out of hand, she perfecteth no Part;
but, that shee doth in time, in Sea, and Land.

Then thou that art her Soueragine, canst thou lacke
of her perfection in thy Workes begun?
Canst thou, Almightie, see Them goe to wracke?
or, through neglect, to leaue them halfe vndone?

Effects vnto their Causes onely looke,
that they from them Perfection may receiue;
Then, of their Causes, if they be forsooke,
they make a show but onely to deceiue.

Thou art my sole beginning, and mine end;
then end that well which thou hast well begun:
Thou art my Cause; then me, th'Effect, amend;
that I from grace, to grace may euer runne.

Thine Eyes, all-seeing, see great Wants in me;
supply those wants (deare Lord) and let me want
Nothing but wants that wanting are in thee,
sith what thou want'st, to thee is discrepant.

Let no Blocke be more dull to apprehend
that thou wouldst haue escape, vntride, then I;
Let my Wit for thy foolishnesse contend;
and, let that Folly be my Wisedomes Eye.

Then, in th'Egyptian darknesse of this life,
I shall behold the glory of thy Sonne:

And shape my course, by him, in Stormes of strife:
for all thy fooles doe striue to him to runne.

Then, with that Protomartire, shall I see
(the Canopie of Heau'n being op'ned wide)
The beaming beauty of the Trinitie;
that by none, but such fooles, can be espide.

Let me be wise in deed, and not in show,
sith neuer shades haue substances begot;
And they know nothing, as they ought to know,
that know not they are fooles that know thee not.

The Foole hath said, in heart, No God there is:
so saith he, sith he knowes not otherwise:
Then, Truth and Wisedome cals him Foole for this;
because true Wisedome in this Knowledge lies.

The Pagan-wisedome, though it knew, what not?
that was beneath the Circuit of the Sunne;
Yet was that wisedome fondly ouer-shot,
sith all was vaine It knew, when all was done:

For, vnder Heau'n (as saith thy sacred Truth,)
remaineth nought that is not more then vaine:
What wisedome then, from knowing it ensu'th;
but such as Fooles, by knowing Bables, gaine?
Then let the World still make a Foole of mee,
So I may onely know my selfe and Thee.

[34]

A Thankesgiuing for our Being.

Lest Thankelesnesse should close thy Bounties hand,
(which it alone (kind Lord) hath pow'r to do)
And sith thou giuest what thou dost command,
if we but stretch our Good-wils hand thereto:

Kinde lib'rall Lord, giue me an able will
to thanke thee for thy gifts; that by one gift
I may be gratefull for another still;
which is of Willing-want the onely shift.

I thanke thee then, not onely for my Being,
(being as I am the liuely forme of thee)
But for that thy high Prouidence all-seeing
doth striue to make me euer better Bee!

For, should thy hand be but a moment clos'd,
I should to nought resolue, as once I was;
For thou my time of moments hast compos'd,
the last of which I cannot ouer-passe.

Then looke how many moments I exist,
so many blessings dost thou giue to mee;
Preuenting me with others ere I wist,
that so my Being might right blessed be.

From my Conception, to Natiuitie
thou keptst me safe (thogh strait kept) in the womb,

My Mothers Bowels might haue strangled me,
but that thy Mercies hand still made me roome!

Wherein I felt (ere I could feele, or see)
the blessings of thy tender Prouidence:
And, lest I should (perhaps) abortiue be,
thou gau'st me there, full nine Months residence.

Where, how thou fedd'st me, by the Navle-string,
I may admire, but ne'er the same expresse!
And how thou didst my Parts together bring
(confus'd in slime) it is no wonder lesse!

The longings of my Mothers appetite,
her food, feares, griefes, fals, and such accidents,
Might haue enforc'd her, ere my Frame was pight,
eft to diffuse me in the Elements.

For, when I was an Embrio, but a thought
might haue redrown'd me in Not-beings Pit;
But then thou thoughtst on me, and so hast wrought
that Danger, from her Mouth, me, safe, did spit.

How happily-vnhappy had I bin
to be made Man in possibilitie,
And marr'd, eu'n as my making did begin;
so, straight to finde, and lose Humanitie.

That which we neuer had, we neuer lost:
therefore for losse of that we cannot grieue:

[35]

But, rare things had, to lose, doth grieue vs most;
for better still dead, then but now to liue.

Then to be borne within no Pagan Clyme,
addes no small waight to this great Benefit:
But, come of Christians, in good place and time,
and, am a Christian, much more maketh it.

And am a Christian? ô that so I were
as I am nam'd; and still desire to be;
That I might say I am; and so appeare:
sith but to seeme good, is too bad with thee.

For thou great Good, that call'st thy selfe I AM,
dost loue I am; not was, nor yet will be:
Then, let me say I am (in deede, and name)
thy Seruant, that but liues to honour thee.

For, sith I haue such Beeing, let me be
such as I AM, not as I am; that is,
Such as Thou art, most perfect Pietie:
for, thou art, wast, and euer wilt-be this.

Besides, thou hast and dost preserue me still
from all misse-fortunes, and from sodaine Death:
Which, in this World (that dangers ouer-fill)
is more then Fortune can to Man bequeath.

How many haue I seene the Warres to weare!
& might haue seen hāg'd, drown'd, staru'd, burnt, & torne!

How many poyson'd! spill themselues, with feare,
with Pox, Plagues, Pestilence how many worne!

The thousands blinde, deafe, dumbe, lame, leperous;
besides the Millions otherwise distrest
In Minde and Body, with griefes dolorous,
make me to see how much my State is blest.

For, that which fell to any one of these
might me befall, be'ing euill as they be;
And, that I haue more soundnesse, ioy, and ease,
it is (to winne my loue) thy loue to me.

If any mortall King should for one crime,
many condemne; and saue but one or two:
And, I, of those condemnd, should be the prime,
yet first of those two saued, should be too:

How would my Heart be rauish'd with his Loue?
and how would all my Pow'rs striue him to serue?
Then, no lesse Grace thy grace doth make me proue;
nay, more, much more, thou dost my loue deserue.

For, double thou deseru'st, in treble kinde;
Thou sau'dst my Soule and body, doom'd to Death;
And from all franticke passions keep'st my Minde:
therefore I owe thee Minde, Soule, Body, Breath.

For, tis thy Grace, we be not all consum'd;
but, most of all my selfe, that most doth sinne:

[36]

Sith on that Grace I haue, to sinne, presum'd;
yet still, by grace, seek'st me, from sinne, to win.

A Body thou hast giu'n me, that doth lacke,
all that thou giu'st me to continue life:
And, lest, through want thereof, It should to wrack,
with me those gifts are no lesse rich, then rife.

All things thou mad'st for me; and me, for Thee;
for me Ground, Graine; Trees, Fruit; Mines, Mettall bear:
Aire, Fowle; Seas, Fish; & Fish & Fowle, for me,
produce most glorious Pearle, and Plumes to weare!

For me, Seas, Ships; Ships, Sailes; Sailes, Winds endure,
to bring me Benefis from forraine Lands:
For me, Flouds, flow; Wels, spring; Springs, Water pure
doe yeeld; that I should yeeld to thy commands.

Sheepe, Oxen, Kine, Goates, Buckes, and other Beasts
yeeld Flesh, Fleece, Fels, Milke, Oile, & Hornes for me:
For me, the Hound doth cry, the Spaniell quests,
to teach me how to cry, with hope, to Thee.

The Hornes of Vnicornes (that precious be)
are mine, though they do weare them for my sake:
Plants Vertue haue, not for themselues, but me:
so, things of eu'ry suite me Prime doe make!

What would I more? there's nought hath being got
on, or in Earth, in Water, or in Aire,

That eyther feedes, or heales, or sports me not:
so that this World doth nought but me repaire.

If I the Elementall World transcend,
to view the Heau'nly Orbes; what Wonders There
Sunne, Moone, and Stars, I see, who all attend
but for my good, for which they framed were.

For me, alone, they influence impart
to these inferiour Bodies, seruing mine;
For me, doth Time himselfe in pieces part,
that I, beyond Time, might be wholy thine.

Nay, let me passe the nine-fold Orbes of Heau'n,
and to thy sacred Mansion let me flee;
For whom had all thine Angels essence giu'n,
But for thy seruice, and to waite on me?

To backe me, and defend me from my Foes;
to hold me vp, when ere I did decline:
To comfort me in Soule-afflicting Woes;
and, to thy presence bring my Soule in fine.

Now if the Ends, for which Things formed were,
be better then the Things (for, so they be)
Then, better than the Angels Men appeare;
sith they (it seemes) for men were made by Thee.

And, Men, and Angels fell through onely Pride;
but, for deare Mans Redemption thou didd'st die:

[37]

Yet, for no one of th'Angels hast thou di'd;
which much augments mans hope, and dignitie!

O then what Heart can once but thought-conceiue
in what strict Tearmes I stand obleig'd to thee;
Sith me thou mad'st most Glory to receiue
through mee; as, through the Eye, Menglory see.

Wake, wake thy selfe, my Soule; why sleep'st thou stil?
see who it is that hath thus done: for whom?
Not for the Angels, which obey his Will;
but, for thee, sinfull Soule, his choisest Home!

Cast, if thou canst, a Number numberlesse;
and, count his gifts with Stars, or with Sea-sand:
The bottome gage, of his Grace bottomlesse;
Or, if thou canst not, wonder-mazed stand!

Yet, stand thou with, and for Him, while thou art;
that is, as long as he himselfe exists:
That is, while God hath but an humane Heart;
which is, but while Eternitie consists.

As God is God, he hath no Heart at all;
but, as true Man he is, he hath Mans Heart:
Then, God, and Man can ne'er asunder fall;
though Men from God themselues too often part.

But God, that hast Mans Heart (and, so, hast mine;
sith I am Man, although a sinfull one:)

Still let thy Heart be mine, and mine be thine:
that I may haue no Heart to grieue our owne.

I greatly doe desire, with great desire,
to praise and loue thee God (Mans harts repose!)
But Praise and Loue, in Mouth, and Heart of mire
(through foulenes of that filth) their grace do lose.

But, sith all Creatures thou hast made for mee,
(for, whatsoe'er is made, I owe the same!)
Ile call on them, with me, to call on THEE,
to giue me grace to loue and praise thy Name.

Then, ô yee all his Workes, your voyces reare
(with man his master-piece) that He would grant
To me his Grace, to sound his praises cleare:
and to supply, in Loue, my louings want.

To make my Mouth pure, fit to hold his praise;
and make my Heart cleane, meete to lodge his loue:
That Heart and mouth may so his glory raise,
while I his Grace, in grace or glory proue:
That I in Grace, and Glory may be knowne,
To liue but for that praise and loue alone.

[38]

A Meditation gratulatory for our redemption.

When I excogitate the great Good-turnes
thou hast done for me, ô extreamest Good!
With heate of Zeale, my seathing Marrow burnes;
and, flames of feruent Louc doe boile my bloud!

Especially, for that when thou had'st form'd
my Soule and body, I deforming each,
Thou, with thine own diere wrack, hast me reform'd
and, with thy precious bloud becam'st my Leach.

Thou mightst, for e'er, haue banish'd me thy sight,
with the proud Angel, and his cursed Crue:
For, my fault was like his; but, more vnright:
then, to the same a greater Plague was due!

And, that thou hast not onely spar'd my Paine;
but, therewithall, bought endlesse blisse for me:
(So that my Fall doth fall out to my gaine!)
I am in straightest bonds oblieg'd to Thee.

And, for thou mad'st me, me to thee I owe;
sith thou redeem'd me, much more owe I thee:
And, would, ô would, I could my selfe bestow
to pay that More, that's lesse then due from me.

And, so much more thou ought'st to be belou'd,
by how much greater were thy griefes, and state;

And how much lesse then ought'st to be reprou'd,
whose life was more then most immaculate!

Who, What, and Wherefore, dost thou suffer, Lord?
and, who art Thou, that suffer'st for mans sake?
O tell me; for, I will diuulge thy Word
that all things made, men marred to re-make.

First, for thy selfe, with what rich tearmes of Art
shall I expresse Thee, inexpressable!
Ile say, as thou said'st, Thou art, what Thou art;
because, Thou know'st, Thou wert ineffable!

Thou art a Beeing more then infinite;
and, being of thy selfe, proceed'st of none:
Without thee, can no being chance to light;
for, Chance, and being light by Thee alone.

Thy matchlesse pow'r, of nothing, all things made;
thy Goodnesse saues all without other aide:
And, if thou wouldst, to nothing They should fade;
for, in, for, and by thee, they all are staid.

Thou onely art that art! and, nothing is
besides thee, in comparison of thee!
The Lamps of Heau'n their light before thee misse,
whose brightnesse bright'st Eyes are blinde to see!

All beautie's Foulenesse; Pow'r, infirmitie;
Wisedome, Grosse Folly; Goodnesse, worse then nought;

[39]

Weigh'd with thy more then All sufficiencie:
more faire, strong, wise, and good, then can be thought.

More then most faire, sith selfe-Formositie;
and, more then pow'rfull, sith Omnipotent!
Much more then Wisedome, sith her Soules right eye;
exceeding Goodnesse, sith her Continent!

Yea, good thou art, both to the good and bad;
for good and bad sucke sweetnesse still from thee:
With good gifts, good Soules, thou dost ouer-lade;
and good'st the bad, to make them better be.

Without distraction, thou dost all in All;
Thou All contain'st, yet art in eu'ry place:
And yet, art all alike in great and small,
yet here then there much greater by thy Grace.

Thou euer work'st; yet, euer art at rest,
resting in endlesse dooing thy good Will:
Thou all vphold'st; and yet, art not supprest:
th'art Good alone; and yet, thou suffer'st ill.

Thou Cause of Causes art; yet caused art
to punish sinne; yet, didst for sinners die:
Thou art impassible; yet sufferd'st smart:
lower then Hell; yet, more then Heau'n hie.

What shall I say of thy dread Maiestie?
Thou Earth behold'st, and It doth trembling stand!

Touch but the Mountaines, and they smoke thereby,
then Seas and Windes doe rest at thy command.

The Sunne (with gloomy Clouds enueloped)
doth hide his head, whē thou (his head) dost frown:
The Moone and Stars, with Cloud-cloakes couered,
in their confusion (sham'd) doe, then, lye downe.

Thou spread'st the Heau'ns, & marchest on the deepe,
whilst her deepe Base yeelds dreadfull harmonie:
Thou mak'st the Spheares both Time & Tune to keep,
maugre their Discords, and varietie.

Thou call'st the Stars by name, who come at call,
and like true Sentinels keepe well their watch.
Hiperion, that guides the Capitall,
(to thee subordinate) doth key their Catch.

Thou anglëst for the huge Leuiathan;
and throgh his Nostrils, mak'st thy Hooke appeare:
Which being hang'd, thou playest with him than,
as with a Fish, that hangs but by an Haire.

Hell quakes when thou dost volly forth thy voice,
which Bandies Earth as twere a Racket-Ball:
The Heau'ns shall melt and passe away with noise,
when thou thy Creatures to account shalt call.

Vpon the Necks of Monarchs thou dost treade;
and pau'st the Pauement with their Diadems.

[40]

The dreadfull Pow'rs of thy Pow'r stand in dread;
and Glory it selfe, is blinded by thy Beames.

The Seraphins (though glitt'ring-glorious Sp'rits)
in thy bright presence seeme but Butterflies:
Thou rid'st vpon the Cherubins, whose sights
thy Beautie blinds, with raies that thence arise.

To thee the Gates of Death lye open wide,
which, on their Hinges, play as thou dost will:
Nay, Death himself doth quake, whē thou dost chide
as if it would his Soule, immortall, kill.

The Heau'ns declare thy glory; Fire, thy brightnesse;
the Aire, thy subtiletie; the Sea thy Dread:
The flowers of the Field, thy Beauties brightnesse:
thus, all in All, thy praise abroad doe spread.

Such, and so great! such, and so great (quoth I)
nay, Lord much more then such, or so, Thou art:
For Words defectiue are; so, needs must lye;
but, thou (Lord) art deficient in no part.

And now, let me recount the wretched wronges
which so great Maiestie hath borne for mee;
And, whiles I count, let Men and Angels Tongues
sound endlesse Peales of Praises vnto Thee!

Who, being so sublime, in dignitie,
did'st from the height of Maiestie descend

Into this vale of deepest miserie;
and, cloath'd thee with my flesh, the same to mend.

Wherein thou suffer'dst, for my sinfull sake,
Hunger and Thirst, in famishing excesse:
With Plagues and Persecutions; which did make
to seeme accursed thy true blessednesse.

The Passions of the Aire, thou did'st abide,
as Prologus to thy PASSIONS Tragedie;
For, Heate, and cold thy Body damnifide,
(as needs they must) that hadst no where to lye.

Whose Pouerty was such, that Birds and Beasts
were much more rich, that Neasts, & Holes enioy'd
But thou (deare Lord) hadst neither Holes nor neasts,
nor ought besides, wherein thy Head to hide.

Borne in a Stable; Cradel'd in a Cratch;
begging the breath of beasts to keepe thee warme;
Wrapped in Rags, that coursest Clouts did patch;
which did thy tender flesh lesse warme then harme.

O sight of force to wonder-rap all Eyes!
Yee Angels all admire this Noueltie:
For lo, your Lord, in base Rags wrapped lyes,
to shew the riches of Humilitie!

And, eight dayes after, took'st a Sinners Marke,
that cam'st, indeed, to abrogate the same:

[41]

Soone after, wast constrain'd to vse the Darke
to hide thy Flight, that fledd'st to hide thy Fame.

Therefore thou sought'st the silence of the Night
to be the Triton of thy Lowlinesse:
Yet, now the World began thy Fame to spight,
and in the rise did seeke It to suppresse.

Herod, thy Hunter, like a Bloud-hound fell,
did hunt for Thee, that He on Thee might pray:
For, what thou wert, he, by and by, did smell;
and, hunted after Thee a likely way.

But, to a Nation, most Idolatrous,
thou wast constraind, from his pursuite, to flye:
So, Innocencie Life preserued thus:
for which, deare Innocents were forc'd to dye.

Then, Innocencie, Innocencie slew:
how then could It therein be innocent?
For, both are innocent; yet both is true:
the first, in deede; the other, in euent.

They lost their bloud for Him; He, his for Them:
so, both did bleede; and for each other bled:
And, both, as Innocents, their blouds did streame;
He, as their Head; They, Members of that Head.

O! had I beene so blest, ere Sinne I knew,
t'haue di'd for thee, among those Innocents:

Or, that I could my sinnes, to death, pursue;
or, make them liue like banish'd male-contents.

Then would I dye for thee, an Innocent,
if curst Herodian hands would blesse me so:
O let me trie this deare Experiment,
(although it cost my Heart-bloud) ere I goe.

For when, before my Mindes Eye, thou dost come
in all thy Passions, my desire doth melt
My very Marrow, to taste Martyrdome;
and Sense feeles paine till it such paines hath felt!

It may be, that I doe but, now, desire
to doe that; then, I may desire to flye;
For, he that was thy bodyes hardiest Squire
so thought, and said; but did It, then, deny!

Flesh, is a Traitor, worse then hee that solde thee;
it will, for Meede, or Dread, the Soule betray:
Nor, in fire, is it willing to behold thee;
in fiery tryals then, it shrinckes away.

Therefore, when it a Champion, of such might,
betraid to feare, I dare not say, I will;
(No, that's Presumption) but I wish I might:
for, willing well, without thee, we doe ill.

Then, be with me, strong Pow'r, and I will say
I will; and will performe, that will, in Deed:

[42]

For, where thou art, by Pow'r, it's but a play
in greatest torments (then) to burne, or bleed.

Now, as thy Body grew, so grew thy griefes;
for, who (deare Lord) can possibly expresse
Thy Persecutions, void of all reliefe,
saue Praying, Fasting, Watching, Wearinesse!

They spake against thee, who sate in the Gate;
and common Drunkards ballads made of thee:
That thou might'st say (in worse then Dauids state)
being poore, I labour from mine Infancie.

These were the griefs (dear Loue) thy life did brook,
but, in thy Death what Sense ere vnderstood
What paines thou felt'st; when (like a rising brooke)
thy body, more and more, o'erflow'd with bloud!

Freedome, made Captiue; Mercy, Miserie;
Grace, quite disgraced; beauty, vilifide;
Innocence, strooken; Iustice, doom'd to dye;
Glory, quite shamed; and, Life, crucifide!

O Heau'ns! what can amaze, with Wonderment,
the Sense of Man more then this? what shall I
Call this so strange vnheard of Loues extent,
that ouer-fils all Names Capacitie!

In few: now Grace, alone, seemes Sinne, alone;
Life, dyes; State's, whipt; and, Pow'r bound to a Poast

The Glory of the Father spet vpon!
and, in a word, God, seemeth to be lost!

In this Deepe, further, may my Soule not wade,
my strength is spent; for, my heart bleedes in me:
O glorious Grace! O Maiestie vnmade!
is this for me, O boundlesse Charitie!

If I, for my Redemption, am so tide
to loue, and honour thee; What shall I bee
For that thou did'st so many Deaths abide,
(when one wold serue) to make me more than free?

With what loue shall I quite this, more then, Loue?
with what life shall I imitate thy life?
With what teares shall I my repose reproue?
and, with what Peace shall I conclude my strife?

I owe thee more for my redeeming (Lord)
(sith in the same thou Death of deaths didst proue)
Then for my Making; (which was with a Word!)
for, more, much more, thy Passion showde thy loue!

For, if for Cherubins, or Seraphins
thou had'st thus di'd, t'had beene lesse meruellous:
But, thou hast di'd for me (a Sincke of sinnes!)
which, of all Wonders, is most wonderous!

What are we, Lord? or what our Fathers House,
(we Sons of wretched Men) that Gods deere Senne

[43]

Doth in such loue and mercie visit vs,
as, through Death, to re-make vs quite vndone,

If in the ballance of thy Sanctuary
thou weigh our body, t'will be found more light
Than Vanitie; more graue then Misery:
as if It did consist in Natures spight!

And, if our Conuersation thou respect,
what is it but a Chaos of Offence!
The Goodnesse of whose All, is all Defect!
whose very Soul's but Hell of Conscience!

Dost thou, ô God, then for such Diuels die,
(the Sonnes of Sathan most oppos'd to thee!)
For the Subuerters of all Honestie!
for breakers of good Lawes that blessed be?

For thy Contemners, for thy Gloryes Clouds!
for thy Deprauers, for the worst of Ils!
For meere curst Thwarts, of all Beatitudes!
for thy Tormentors that thy Soule would kill!

Whose Hearts, no gifts, can once allure to loue,
much lesse, with Menaces, are terrifide!
Nor mou'd with heauy Plagues, that Rockes would moue;
nor yet, with sweet'st Indulgence, mollifide!

For Fiends, who not suffic'd with their owne vice,
the Earth doe compasse; so, to compasse more!

And, not contented others to intice
diue to the Diuels to augment their store!

Where, robbing those Egyptians of their wealth,
to weet, Pride, Enuy, Malice, blasphemie,)
Away they steale (so, all they doe by stealth)
to make them Idols for their Fantasie.

Who, when they haue rak't Hell for eu'ry Euill,
and, got as much as Hell can hold, or yeeld,
They then deuise, themselues (worse then the Diuel)
new kindes of sinnes, that Hell yet neuer held:

Adding thereto obduracie of Heart;
and, doe, their Conscience, more then cauterize:
Pleasing themselues (like Fiends) in others smart;
and, for that end, doe many meanes deuise:

Are these (deare Lord) the things for which thou diest?
the things (I say) for, (no Name is so ill
As they deserue;) What, onely must the Highest
dye for vile Vipers, that their Maker kill?

My Heart doth faile, my Spirit is extinct,
when thus I weigh thy Mercies with my Sinne:
And wert not for thy graces meere instinct,
I should despaire (deare Lord) and dye therein.

Yet, sith I haue begun to speake to thee,
O be not angry if I yet doe speake:

[44]

Let Dust, and Ashes once so saucie be
to aske their God what He, hereby, doth seeke?

Seek'st thou the loue of such meere Lumps of Hate?
or else the seruice of such Vermine vile?
Alas (great Lord) it stands not with thy State,
sith where they come, by nature, they defile.

If thy desire of Marriage did so burne,
that Thou thy Creätures would'st needes espouse,
Why then did Seraphins not serue thy turne,
that are more Noble, and thee better vse?

Why of a prepuce Nation took'st a Wife,
which afterwards did Thee betray and kill?
So, marriedst, as it were, the very Knife,
that cut thy throate; so, seem'dst thy selfe to spill.

What answer'st (Lord) to these too high Demands?
I would haue this, because I would haue this:
This is thine Answere; and, the reason stands
vpon thy Will, which cannot will amisse.

Then be it (Lord) according to thy Will;
for, so it must be, be it how so ere:
By life, or death then, let me It fulfill;
that dost by both, thee, so, to mee endeere.

For, since Mans fall, none passe to Paradise
but by the dreadfull burning Cherubins;

To Canaan none, but by where Marah lies;
sith there th'inheritance of ioy begins.

And none vnto the happy Citie goes,
that goes not by the Babel-Riuers side:
And, none Ierusalem or sees, or knowes,
that through the vale of Teares nor goe, nor ride.

The way to Heau'n, is by the Gates of Hell;
and Wormwood-wine, thogh bitter, wholsome is:
Thy Crosse (ô Christ) doth Heau'ns strong Ports compell
to open wide; for, tis the Key of blisse!
And, sith for me, so well thou loud'st that Crosse,
Let me, for thee, count all things else but losse.

A Thanksgiuing for our Vocation.

With all the pow'r and vertues of my Soule
I doe adore thee holy Lord of All!
That when I had no name in thy check-rowle,
thou wrat'st it on thy Palme, and me didst call.

I dwelt, sometimes, in blacke Obliuions Land,
where, in the shade of Death, I sadly sate;
But, thou (kind Lord) didst reach me, then, thy hand,
which, from thence, drew me to a glorious state.

When as I wandred, in the crooked wayes,
that, too directy, led to endlesse paine,

[45]

Thou didst thy forces, then, against me raise,
to put me in thy way, perforce againe.

When thou hadst plung'd me in the Font of Grace,
so clens'd the filth I was conceiued in,
Though there I vow'd to keepe me in that case,
I brake my vow and me re-suncke in sinne.

So that sweet Temple which thou sanctifi'dst
in me, for thee, I, cursedly, did blesse:
Raising therein, that which thou least abid'st,
namely, the Idoll of Voluptuousnesse.

Then, liu'd I as an Out-law; when, it seem'd
by Law, or Fiend, or Foe might me surprise:
But, I, of thee yet, then, was so esteem'd,
that thou, by Law, didst quit me, in this wise:

The Law requir'd Death, or Obedience;
then, thou, for me, didst more then Law requir'd:
Which di'dst for sinne, yet liu'dst in innocence:
so thou, thereby, didst more then It desir'd!

Yet, ere I once did thinke vpon thy Grace
I liu'd as loose, as if I had beene bound
To nothing but to Persons, Time and Place
that sought my Soule and body to confound.

So, past my Dayes that rather lookt like Night;
nay, ratherlike the Darke that may be felt;

Wherein my selfe ne'er came within my sight,
although I might mine vnsweet life haue smelt.

Then, like blinde Baiard, being bold as blinde,
I ranne, as Fancy led me, eu'ry where,
To doe the Deedes of darknesse, in their kinde,
and, with me, others blinded so, did beare.

Then, what was it the Diuell could deuise
to clog a Soule with Sinne, exceeding Sinne,
But I to doe it was as quicke, as wise?
the rather, sith my Soule did ioy therein.

Then, carnall beautie was the onely Sunne
that warm'd me at the heart; and lent me light:
A Light, and Heate by which were quite vndone
mine Eyes, & Heart; nay, Body, Soule, & Spright.

For, all confounded were, as they had bin
no more themselues, but beauties shadowes vaine;
Attending her in whatsoeuer Sinne,
as Toyes, that had bin stitched to her Traine.

Then, were my Feete as swift as swiftest Roes
Mans bloud to shed; and, so thy Forme deface:
My friends to wrong, and treble wrong my foes;
to shunne the good, and bad men to embrace.

Then, those things onely, pleased best my taste,
that were distastiue to thy sacred Sense:

[46]

And, that time (onely) I esteemed waste,
that to thy Seruice had most reference.

Thy Name, to my vncircumcized Eare,
was harsh, and fill'd the same with all offence:
Which I did deadly hate, through seruile feare;
but, seru'd thy Foes with treble diligence.

The World, the Flesh, and thy Competitor
(that for my Soule with Thee do aye contend)
Made me their Slaue, and seruil'dst Seruitor;
so, gaue my Minde, thy Kindome, to the Fiend.

Thy Word to me seeem'd most ridiculous,
as full of Crackes, as Contradiction:
And, no lesse witlesse, then most barberous;
so, made I it a Ground to play vpon.

The fairest Church (then) seem'd the fowlest Iaile;
a Preacher, like an Headsman, kill'd me quite:
Words, least diuine, with me did most preuaile;
and Peace of Conscience still in me did fight.

In briefe, I was, for which my selfe I hate,
such, as on whom Vice show'd what she could do
When she did light but on a low estate:
for, what Deedes shee deuis'd, my Hand was to.

In this time of my young, yet doating, Age,
thou didst expect me (Lord) and lent'st me breath:

Yea, didst attend me, like that Princes Page,
that alwayes put his Lord in minde of Death.

O altitude of Grace surmounting Grace!
ô magnitude of Mercy most extreame!
How many settings-out, in such a Race,
haue beene o'er-taken with thy Furies Streame?

Yet I, most blessed-cursed-blessed I
haue (by the Mercy, more then most diuine)
Beene suffer'd to be tir'd with vanitie,
and, yet preseru'd, till brought to Grace in fine.

Had Iustice hands, which, then, still vrged were,
drawne me before her High Tribunall Throne,
And, by a Quest of Angels, tride me there,
I had beene cast, and more then ouerthrowne.

But, blest be thine vnconquer'd Patience,
that me forbore, till I to sinne forbare:
And, blessed be thy Mercies prepotence,
by which, I warded was, and bid beware.

Forcing into my Soule the feare of Hell,
the sight of Sinne, Lifes vaine and short expence,
With thy Lawes strictnesse; all which still impell
my Heart, though Steele, to melt in penitence!

Yea, when my feet were fast in Follies Stockes,
thou didst by Grace (past Grace) extort from me

[47]

Whole Flouds of Teares, from two most flintie Rockes,
(my Heart, and Eyes) for, so, offending thee.

And, when I fled from thee, as if it had
beene matter of small moment Thee to flee,
Thou follow'dst me (I being worse then mad)
to keepe me from the Furies following mee.

Thus, long we straue, and, striuing long, at length
thou didst preuaile, and tam'd my Coltish Will;
Yet twas by holy Fraud, and mightie Strength,
which claw'd me while they did restraine me still.

For, no lesse was thy Mercies skill herein,
then thy Pow'rs force: for, sinfull Soules to cure:
Showes skilfull Grace: and, Men that most doe sinne
to iustifie, bewraies almightie Pow'r.

And, ô how many Graces giu'st thou me
with this meere guift of my Vocation!
Firme Faith, sure Hope, and perfect Charitie,
with all the Vertues that attend thereon.

And though I cannot be assured Lord,
to serue thee to the end, and meeke withall:
Yet, doe my Faith, and Hope rest on thy Word;
which sure doth stand, though oft (vnsure) I fall.

Thy Sp'rit likewise, doth witnesse to my Sp'rit,
that thou dost loue me more than tenderly:

Sith in thy Loue, thou mak'st my Loue delight;
which loue erst lothed thy Loue mortally.

Blessed be thou, therefore, great Lord of Grace,
for giuing me thy deare adopting Spirit
To nurse, and teach, and rule me in my Race,
and, thee and me, vnioynde, to re-vnite.

And, blessed be that euer-blessed Day,
wherein that Ghest did make my Soule his Inne:
And be that Houre, and Moment blessed aye,
wherein my Will gaue way to let him in.

That Day was the true Sabboth of my rest;
that Day I left th'Egyptian seruitude:
That was my second Birth-day, truely blest,
who, then, was borne to all Beatitude.

It was mine Easter-day, wherein I rose
from Death of Sinne, vnto the Life of Grace!
It was the Day my Heau'nly Husband chose
to marry me; and, Coort me face, to face.

Let Iob and Ieremy ban their birth-Day,
this will I blesse with Heart Mind, Mouth, & Pen;
Sith, then, the Angels, in their best aray,
saluted me, as their Co-cittizen.

Wherein God call'd me Son, and Christ dear Spouse;
the Holy-Ghost his Temple; and when all

[48]

The Holy TRINITIE did trimme the House
of my poore Soule, that teady was to fall.

Deare Lord! with what deare Words, or dearer Deedes
no, dearest Words and Deeds are all too weake
To match thy Mercies; but my Soule must needs
quite breake, if not into thy Praises breake.

Ile sing to thee as Dauid once did sing,
O Lord, how glorious are thy Workes of Grace!
And as the Angels Peales of Praises ring,
so, will I praise thee though my voyce be base.

The worke of my Creation show'd great Loue;
and that of my Redemption, more exprest:
Yet that of my Vocation most did moue;
but, that, that Iustifide me past the rest!

The gifts of Glory (still to Saints assign'd)
is great, so great, that none may greater be;
Yet to be iustified, is, in his kinde,
as great a gift, and no lesse laudeth thee.

To make Men iust that are in sinfull case,
is more then to make iust Men glorious:
Sith greater ods there is twixt Sinn and Grace,
then is twixt Grace, and Glory; God, and Vs.

My Making and Redemption had but made
m'excuse the lesse, and my Damnation more;

Except my Soule thou hadst made iustly glad,
in iustifying me that sinned sore!

Whiles, therefore, on these things I meditate,
my Soule entranced lies; as if she were
No more my Senses, or my bodies Mate,
but, were transform'd to Admiration here.

What shall I render Lord? ô how shall I
remunerate, (ô that can ne'er be done:)
Or how shall I but praise thee worthily?
but, such praise doth my pow'r no lesse out-runne.

O that the Organs of my Soule were such,
as, with thy praise, they Heau'n and Earth might fill;
I would therein reioyce much more then much,
but, Lord, accept the freedome of my Will.

For, could it make thee more then what thou art,
(thogh more cannot be wisht, much lesse conceiu'd)
I would performe a right Well-willers part,
and make thee what it could, for Grace receiu'd:
Then, let my Will be aided by thy Might,
That Will, in Deed, may praise thy Name aright.

[49]

Of Gods vnutterable Being, with desire of the Soule to be swallowed vp with the loue of his Maiestie.

O past-beginning, and immortall Sp'rit;
eternall, and incomprehensible:
Incircumscrib'd in Maiestie and Might;
seene all in All, yet most insensible:

Immutable, impassible, most iust;
inscrutable; in mercy, most compleate:
From whom they came, and vnto whom they must
that doe beleeue thou art as good, as great:

Who by thy ne'er-too-much applauded Word
hast framed whatsoe'er created is;
One blessed TRINITIE, in true accord
of perfect Vnitie, and boundlesse blisse!

If that great Patriarcke, Father of the Iust,
(who albeit thou deign'dst to call thy Friend)
Yet in respect He Ashes was, and Dust,
did feare to speake to Thee, that Eare did lend:

Nay, if the highest Orders of those Sprights,
that, in thy presence, burne, through loue of thee,

Dare not, vpon thine Essence, fixe their sights,
lest they, through glory, should confounded be:

If these so pure, so deare, so holy Ones,
so fearefull are to speake, or looke on thee,
Who albeit they sit themselues on Thrones,
yet, in thy sight, through loue, so awfull be:

How shall a Shorelesse Sea of Misery,
a Sincke of Sinne, a Sacke of filthiest dung,
(All which, ah woe therefore, deare Lord, am I!)
once dare, to thee, to stirre or Eye, or Tongue?

But, sith (sweet Lord) I can no way obtaine
that awfull reu'rence, which is due to thee,
Vnlesse mine Eyes still fixt on thee remaine,
and made amazed with thy Maiestie:

Vouchsafe me leaue (dread God) vouchsafe me leaue
to lift mine Eyes vnto thy Throne of Grace;
O let thy brightnesse, mine Eyes, splendor giue;
and blinde them not that long to see thy Face.

I see (dread Lord) thou, onely, thou art Hee
that dost transcend our vnderstandings reach;
And yet, by vnderstanding, well I see
they see thee best, to whom thy beames doe stretch.

Then, ô most bright, faire, wise, kinde, liberall;
most stable, simple, subtile, gracious;

[50]

Secret, yet knowne; vnscene, yet seeing All:
vnmou'd, yet mouing; in rest, making vs:

Whom Latitudes dilate, nor Bounds restraine;
Varietie doth change, nor Passions moue:
Rest makes not idle, nor Worke puts to paine,
who art not hurt by Hate, nor holp by Loue.

From whom, Obliuion, nothing can detract;
to whom, Remembrance, can as little adde:
Who art Dilated most, yet most Compact:
not grieu'd in Sorrow, nor in Solace glad:

To whom there's nothing past, much lesse to come;
sith Time and Place still present be with thee:
Of all this All thou art the totall Summe;
beyond which nothing is, much lesse can be!

For, th'art in all things, yet art not included;
but yet, in all things, art thou, by sufficing:
Thou art without all, yet art not excluded;
but, without all things, thou art, by comprising.

Th'art vnder All; yet subiect vnto none;
but vnder All, that All might rest on thee:
And farre aboue All, yet not proud thereon;
but, All, aboue; that All might gouern'd be.

Perfect in All, in none deficient;
Great without bounds, & Good without compare:

Present in each Place, yet in no Place pent;
yet, whole in All, and parts, in All that are.

In Pow'r, and Wisedome, most-most infinite!
in Counsaile, wonderfull; in Iudgement, iust;
Secret, in thoughts; in word, and Promise, right:
glorious in Deedes, which glorifie our Dust!

Past all extent, thy Loue doth farre extend;
whose Mercie's more, then most indefinite:
Thy Patience more, than Pow'r can comprehend:
because it is no lesse then is thy Might!

What shall I say, great-good, good-great-great Lord!
I feare, in these my Words, I doe offend:
To seeme to circumscribe thee in a Word;
that art without all measure, meane, or end!

Thou art, (ô sacred Sp'rits Angelicall,
(that haue fruition of Him face to face)
Lend me a Name by which I Him may call;
and may expresse some measure of his Grace!

Thou art too great, for Greatnes, ne'er so GREAT!
and far too good, for Goodnes, e'er so GOOD!
Who (were it possible) art more compleate
in GOODNESSE, then thine owne Trin-vnion-hood!

Yet thou (thou nameles Good! who, thogh thus great)
dost bid vs seeke thee, for, who seeketh findes:

[51]

Who, though not to be seene vpon thy Seate,
yet sitt'st thou, seene, in Eyes of humble Mindes.

Thou, thou art He, whom, to forsake, is death;
and, for whom life to leaue, is life alone:
In whom, to breathe, is to breathe blessed Breath;
and, for whom to contend, is Vnion.

No man forsakes thee, but the forlorne Foole:
and, no one seekes thee, but whom thou dost seeke:
Nor none can find thee, but whom thou dost schoole;
&, thou school'st none, but whom thy Lessons like.

What should I say of thee? or how shall I
thy Goodnesse praise? how shall I celebrate
The glory of thy, back-parts, Maiestie,
though ne'er so much thou it extenuate?

Ile say as those, whom thou taugh'st what to say,
thou measurest the Waters with thine Hand;
Vpon thy Palme thou dost the Heau'ns weigh:
and, on thy Finger all the Earth doth stand!

Thou art that Ancient, ancienter then Dayes,
whose Throne is like a bright ay-burning Flame;
The Wheeles wherof, like Fire that Sparks doth raise;
vpon whose Thigh is writ a glorious Name:

Thy Body, like a beaming Chrisolite;
thy Face, like Lightning; thine Eyes, Lampes of Fire!

Thine Armes, & Feete, like Brasse, all burnisht bright;
thy Voyce like Thunder, but It soundeth high'r.

A fiery Streame, still floweth from thy Throne;
a thousand thousand minister to thee:
Ten thousand thousand waite on thee alone;
and, Millions, by the Thousands, ready be!

Who, with a Beck, nay lesse, but with a Thought,
rul'st Heau'n, and Earth, according to thy Will;
Which, tho most glorious both, thou mad'st of noght
and, if thou would'st, a thought againe would spill!

Help, Lord, for I am in a groundlesse DEEPE,
or endlesse Maze, that hath no comming out!
My Wits from drowning, and distraction keepe;
and, let me goe no more, this Gulph, about.

For; he that goes about to tell, with Words,
what one thou art, doth eu'n as if he would
Quite drowne the Sea, within the shallow'st Foords;
nay, more, sith thou art much more manifold.

Who ere assisted thee? or thee aduis'd?
who brought thee vp in Lore? or gaue thee Wit?
And who thy Pow'r, at any time surpris'd?
or, what Foe was not dasht to Dust by It?

With whom the Sea seemes scarse a Water-drop;
the Islands, and maine Lands, a little Dust:

[52]

The highest Heau'n is but thy Foot-stooles Top;
and, but into a Pricke, thou Earth dost thrust!

The Woods of Libanus cannot suffice
to make Religious Altars fume to Thee:
Nor all the Beasts can serue for Sacrifice
that on a thousand thousand Mountaines be!

All Nations, nay, all Creatures whatsoe'er
(be they Celestiall, or Terrestriall)
Stand in thy sight, as if they Nothing were;
and, in respect of thee, are not at all.

For if, in the bright presence of the Sunne,
the Stars seeme not to be, although they are;
Then, in thy sight, must All to nothing runne;
sith, in the same, the Sunne cannot appeare.

Therefore, with all created Essences,
ô holy, blest, and glorious TRINITIE,
I doe adore, with all obseruances,
the Scepter of thy dread Diuinitie!

Thy Being's vniuersall; most exact!
then, being such, what should my homage be?
And, being Grace, and Goodnesse, most abstract,
how can I, wanting both, serenize thee?

Agnizing, then, the Wonders of thy Worth,
(prostrate, before thy sacred Mercies seate,

With whatsoe'er Loues feare can vtter forth)
I more then celebrate thy glory great.

With those thrice blessed Spirits, who laying downe
their Crownes of Glory, at thy sacred Feete,
Prostrate adore thee; loe, I vaile the Crowne
of all my Glory, to thee, blessed SWEET!

My Glory, Lord? alas! what doe I giue?
if I haue any, it is more than vaine:
Then maist thou not that Gift of me receiue;
sith it must needes thy sacred Glory staine.

Returne It then (deare Lord) my gift put backe;
and, I will giue thee what thou gau'st to me:
That's Loue, and Feare; thou dost no Glory lacke;
yet, if thou giue it mee, Ile giue it thee.

But not to vs (deare Lord) ô not to vs,
but to thy gracious NAME all glory giue;
Which was, and is, and shall be glorious,
as long as God is God, or LIFE doth liue.

But, vnto vs, Confusion onely's due;
for, Flesh and Bloud hath nought to glory in,
But (that which may decayed shame renue,)
a bleeding Conscience, and a world of Sinne!

But why doth Sol giue Light, the Fire giue Heate?
why's Water cold? Earth, thicke? or Aire so thinne?

[53]

The reason's cleare; by kinde, they doe that feate:
so, thou, by kinde, (kinde Lord) forgiuest Sinne.

Where Sin abounds, there Grace doth oe'er-abound;
for, tis thy glory (God) Sinnes to forgiue:
For should'st thou Sinners, with the Sinne, confound,
then, none should liue; so, none should glory giue.

For, in the nether Hell they praise thee not,
sith tis the Hold of hedious Blasphemy:
There is the Land where all things are forgot
saue sad Despaire, and Death which cannot dye.

But, in thine euer-blessed Hierarchy,
the holy, holy, holy Lord of Hoasts
(In Soule-inchanting Heauenly Harmony)
is euer heard through those Celestiall Coasts.

Then, make me such that, in the Life of grace,
I temp'rately may glorifie thy Name:
And, in the Life of glory, face to face,
I may, for euer, much more doe the same.

Consume the cloudy Fancies of my Minde
with sacred flames of thine eternall Loue;
That, being by that purging fire refinde,
thou maist it, on thy Trials Touch, approue.

Then, let thy Glories Zeale quite eate me vp,
that all my Being may consist therein:

So, Ile carowse thy bitter Passions Cup;
sith to my Health (kinde Lord) thou didst begin.

O let my life (poore life) nought else appeare
but a sweet-smelling Sacrifice to thee:
Or rather let it be an Offring here,
that, with thy Loues fire, may consumed be.

Then, metamorphose me into thy Loue,
let me be quite transmuted to the same:
That I may euer vpwards, flaming, moue,
as doth, by Nature, a materiall flame.

O! bottomlesse Abysse of Charitie,
engulph me in thy Bowels, let thy Wombe
Receiue Sinnes seede, that longs for sanctitie;
Then, let it still lie, buryed, in this Tombe:
That, so, I may, quite dead to Sinne, and Shame,
Still liue in LOVE, to loue and praise thy NAME.

A Repetition of Gods many Benefits, and Preseruations, with desire of the continuance thereof.

Vpon the bended knees of my poore Sp'rit,
(made poor by thy rich Mercies showr'd theron)

[54]

Thy Vertue I adore, with all my might,
ô diuine VERTVE, Israels Holy ONE!

Sith thou, of thy vnlimitable grace,
hast deign'd to make me know thy grace and pow'r.
Nay, show'd to me the splendor of thy face,
which doth my loue, much more then much allure.

For giuing me my Being, being nought
before; and since, and since, for mending me:
Though yet (deare Lord) I am not as I ought;
yet, as I am, I am most bound to thee.

For that thou dost conserue me in such case;
that, as a liuely Member, I doe feele
Thy liuely Members dolor, or disgrace;
and sinck in Soule, when they (neere falling) reele.

For that thou dost my Natures essence keepe
from running to the wracke of grace and nature:
And, of a Wolfe, for making me a Sheepe;
and, of a Cast-away, a costly Creature.

A costly Creature I right well may say;
sith it thy Heart-bloud cost to make me such;
Euen, then, when I was worse then cast away:
for, I was damn'd before I knew so much.

By thee I am, in sinfull state, preseru'd
from sinful state; which stands where Sin doth raign.

By thee I am from prides contrect conseru'd;
that faine would take out of thy hand thy raigne.

If I doe fall, it's when Thou stai'st me not;
if I doe rise, it's by thy helping Hand:
But, I ne'er fall but when I haue forgot
that by thy Rod, and Staffe, I rise, and stand.

As many good thoughts as my heart ere held,
he held, in Capite, of Thee his Head:
If well my little-World I ere did weild,
I did it with thy Pow'r, but in thy stead.

If none can say Lord Iesu but by Thee,
much lesse, without thee, thee can any serue;
No more then Boughs yeeld Fruit, cut from the tree:
then what we worke for (Lord) thou dost deserue.

Therefore, if I haue fasted, watcht, or praid,
if I haue Crosses borne, with Backe vnbroke,
If I haue shed Contritions Teares, vnstaid,
or crost my Will, or vp thy Crosse haue tooke:

If in my prayers I haue thought on Thee,
or that they haue preuail'd, or I relieu'd;
Or if my Will to Vertue hath beene free;
all these, as gifts, from Thee I haue receiu'd.

How many vertuous Friends, and Ghostly Guides,
how many good Examples, Lights of life,

[55]

What like Bookes hast thou sent me, these besides,
as Loue-signes whilst thou woo'dst me for thy Wife?

All which, to thee, I freely doe referre,
that they, from thee, more freely may reflow:
For, sith thou didst all these on me conferre
ere I was thine; now all Thine I doe owe.

But, to recount the Perils I haue past
(thou being present, pointing out the way)
Is more then well Arithmetick can cast,
which doe thy mercies, numberlesse, bewray!

And, into what, more than prodigious, Crimes
I might haue fall'n, hadst thou not me vpheld,
(Yea, hadst thou not preuented me betimes)
appeares by those that haue in sinne excell'd:

For, neuer did the Diuell sinne so much,
but that a fraile Man may commit as great
If, with thy grace, his Heart thou doe not touch,
and, with thy Pow'r, the pow'r of Sinne defeate.

As many Meanes, then, as I had to sinne,
and, fit Occasions as I had to fall;
So many might my Sinnes, and Fals haue bin,
if I by thee had had no help at all.

Occasions, are so violent, in Pow'r
that they could Giant-foyling Dauid fall:

For, they once tooke him vp into his Tow'r,
from whence he fell, in part; and after, all.

Occasion is a Ianus, which doth looke
to Vice and Vertue most indifferently;
But, by Sinnes watching him, he oft is tooke,
and made the meane of much Impietie.

Hee's fain'd to stand vpon an vpright Bowle,
to show his course is most indifferent:
Except he meetes with rubs, which make him roule
out of the way, which way those Rubs are bent.

But, ô! how often hast thou, with strong hand,
tane him out of my way, lest I should fall,
By reason he, in my way, right, did stand:
for oft I stumble at Occasion small.

How oft hast Thou the FOES hand manacled,
because he should not fight, or if he should
I should be Victor, and not vanquished;
and so get Grace, sith (tride) I held my Hold?

How often haue I march'd vpon my Foes,
(the Adder, Viper, and the Cocatrice)
And neuer was once stung, or hurt by those,
thou had'st so charm'd the malice of their vice!

How oft hast thou walk'd hand, in hand, with me,
through Fire and Water, all vntoucht of eyther;

[56]

Nay, so their Pow'rs were tempered by thee,
that they wrought for my comfort altogether!

And, how oft haue they quite consumed bin
who (for not worshipping their senslesse Sawes)
Haue, in Afflictions Furnace, kept me in,
the whiles I sang, for ioy, in Sorrowes Iawes!

That with the Psalmist, I may iustly say
I was sore thrust at, that I (so) might fall;
But, thou o'er-threw'st my thrusters, with my stay;
as Bals quite breake, throwne hard against a wall.

How oft haue my Sinnes sold me to thy wrath?
how often haue I fall'n, yet neuer fell!
For, in thy Mercy, which no measure hath,
(though I did passing ill) I haue done well!

Though I gaue, that, to Nature, due to Grace,
and, to my selfe, that, which belong'd to Thee;
(Who might'st haue grac'd Thee (then) with my disgrace
yet gau'st thou grace, not shame, eu'n then to me!

And, though the Angels fell for lesse offence,
and, that proud Babel-Monarch, for the same,
Yet I, as one of more preheminence,
escap'd vnskarr'd, in Body, Goods and Name!

I Perils lou'd, yet perisht not therein;
by many by-wayes I found out the right:

With Grace familiar was I made by Sinne:
so, foild I Sinne by Sinne, and not by fight,

Was euer Loue so wonne? was euer Man
so woo'd by God! or can my Soule conceiue
How much thy Mercies may, that so much can!
or can I thee of Loue (deare Loue) deceiue!

O rather of my Being quite bereaue me,
and, turne me to my pristrine Nihil-hood,
Then I should, so, of but meere Loue deceiue thee;
that mak'st mine Euils doe me so much good.

Burne me (kinde Love) to Nothing, that of nought
thou mai'st, in Loue, make some-thing, good for thee:
Of nought, thou mad'st me good; mine Ill, I wrought:
then, now, of nought, good make me euer be.

Perfect, great Master-builder of mine All,
thy Worke begunne; and let my Nothing be
Apt to be-come, in Forme, materiall;
and, be conform'd to matter lou'd of Thee.

Breathe on this CHAOS (Lord) and let thy Spirit
walke on the Waters of my Humors, vaine:
My Darknesse, palpable, couert to Light;
so, my Confusion shall, in Order, raigne.

O'er Sinne, and Death, and darke-darke Ignorance,
in datelesse Tearmes of all Eternities;

[57]

The value of thy Vertue to aduance,
which, of thy selfe, aboue all Heights doth rise!
This is my Hope, which is, because thou ART
Iust in thy Word, and Deede; in All, and Part!

For Power and Grace to withstand the Flesh, the World, and the Diuell.

When I looke vp and see the Heau'nly Spheares
roule on my Time, and my Lifes Line therin,
Thus say I to my Soule; Vaine Soule thy yeares
are nothing, sith thou nothing dost but sinne?

Yet art thou made eternall (like thy Sire)
and all conceiu'st (like him) beneath the Sunne;
Th'art in my Whole and Parts (like him) intire;
and hast (like him) right Reason Ill to shunne!

And yet, ô yet, thou dost, but Ill withall;
so all that good thou turn'st to Euill still:
Who, through Infirmitie, to Sinne dost fall,
when thou stand'st highest in grace of Pow'rs goodwill.

Then Lord of Pow'r and Grace, with both so arme
my falling Soule, that she thereby may stand

Against th'Assaults of all that would her harme:
for, she can foile but with thy Forces Band.

Great Lord of Hostes, Iehouah, God of Pow'r,
then leaue me not alone among my Foes;
But strengthen me from thy Strengths trusty Tow'r,
that I, by Thee, may euer vanquish those.

The Flesh, the World, the Diuell, with their Bands
of strong as fraudfull Foes, me still assaile;
While all my Pow'r lyes onely in thy Hands,
which when I hold, I foile; with-held, I faile!

If then thou wouldst I still should Victor be,
giue me those helps that in thy hand still lye:
Flesh fights not with it selfe; but thou in me
canst foile it quite, and make it Mercy cry.

The World doth loue it selfe (and, so, her Owne)
too well t'endamage eyther; and doth charge
Too strongly on me to be ouerthrowne
by my small pow'r, if thou it not enlarge.

And Sathan, in himselfe, is not diuided,
though, in himselfe, still turbulent he be:
He is too crafty, strong, and well-prouided,
for me t'encounter, if thou help not me.

Then ô eftsoones (againe, and still againe)
I thine assistance humbly doe inuoke;

[58]

That so I may still vanquish, so, still raigne
o'er these our Foes that euer vs prouoke.

So will I yeeld the glory vnto Thee,
That foilst such strength by Weaknesse; that's by me!

The Sinner, confessing his sinne, striueth with God (by importunitie of Prayer) for Grace.

Great God! from whō no thought can be concea'ld
sith it thou know'st ere thoght; & searched hast
All Hearts ere they, in Nature, are reueal'd,
forgiue my thoughts, that giue thee but distaste.

To my Confusion needes I must confesse,
my thoughts and Sinne are One; and, so, most base:
And though so base they be, yet n'erthelesse
oft Grace they mind; so, Sinne presumes on Grace.

Lord! how am I deprau'd by Sinne, that can
scarse thinke a thought, but I doe sinne therein?
Then blessed Lord, how canst thou chose but banne
so vile a Slaue, so subiect vnto Sinne?

I must not leaue Thee thus; no, though my Heart
be well-neere Flint, I must not leaue thee so:

With thee, for Grace, Ile wrastle ere we part,
then let me finde it in mine Ouer-throw.

And if such Sinne thou dost forgiue by Grace,
and that where much is pardon'd, Loue is much,
My Loue shall ouer-fill all Time and Place;
such is my Sinne, my Loue shall then be such!

Deny me not (deare Lord) for I will take
no nay of thee; no; thou dost me inuite,
Being heauy laden, to thee;, ô then make
me free there-from, lest it doe quell me quite.

And learne me (Lord) to woo thee for thy Grace;
and winne it, by my wooing, to relieue me;
Thou canst soone lighten this my heauy case;
then, thy Will's good, with good will then, forgiue mee.

Make my Heart feele, although the while it ake,
some Signe of Grace, that thereby I may know
Thou lou'st such wooers as no nay will take;
and Wrastlers such, as will not let thee goe!

Though speake I cannot as I would, my Spright
stil woos thy grace with sighs, then words more deep:
Thou know'st her speech, and dost therein delight;
then ô let thy kinde Answere make mee weepe.

Thy Louing-kindnesse hath the pow'r to strike
her dumbe with ioy; and after make her shrill

[59]

In thine applause: for, whom thou (Lord) dost like,
thou still mak'st drunke with ioy through thy goodwill!

Then if I haue found Fauour in thy sight,
or els wilt giue me any hope of Grace,
Make druncke my Soule with thy sweet loues-delight,
and let her so (ioy-rauisht) thee embrace.

I sue to thee, for that I needes must haue;
I cannot be without It, sith within
It's all mine All: then, It I still will craue,
vntill by ceasely begging it I winne:
Then, grant me grace from Sinne me still to free,
Else, by thy grace, Ile cry for't still to thee.

The Sinner confessing he can neyther will, thinke, nor doe any good thing without Gods preuenting and assisting Grace, importunes the same.

O thou that from the Bottome of Not-being
didst raise me to BEE thus, a MAN, like Thee;
And, ere I WAS, through thy diuine Fore-seeing,
didst more then see what would become of me;

Giue, giue me leaue (thou God of endlesse Grace)
to enterplead with Thee without thine ire:

Why AM I, if thou turn'st from me thy Face,
sith so a Brand I am but for Hell-Fire?

I could not choose but Be when thou would'st haue me
for how could nothing crosse Almightinesse?
And now I Am am lost, vnlesse thou saue me;
but, none thou sau'st that still thy Will transgresse.

Nor, can I doe thy Will, without thou wilt;
and if thou wilt, thy Will no Pow'r can crosse,
Much lesse my Weaknesse; then, if I be spilt,
it seemes thy Will, although my blame and losse.

And yet thou sai'st, thou wilt no Sinners Death;
thy Word is Truth it selfe; then, if thou would'st
That I should liue, ô let me spend my Breath
as those whom thou, by Grace, from sin with-hold'st.

So in thy Will (which no Pow'r e'er impugnes)
consists mine euerlasting Weale or Woe:
Then, not to me, so much as thee belongs
to saue me from eternall ouerthrow.

I can but Will; but, well I cannot Will,
if thou first will it not; nor euer shall:
Then, will it first; for, I can will but Ill
without thy Grace; so, Grace doth all in All.

I cannot thinke, then much lesse can I doe
ought pleasing thee, without thy Grace first got:

[60]

And yet to doe it, still thou me dost woo;
which, yet, I cannot, if thou doe it not:

For, looke what good I doe, it is not I
but thou that dost it in and by me still:
Then still I can doe all things in and by
thee (Lord of Pow'r) agreeing with thy Will.

O then incline my Will thy Will to doe;
and giue me Pow'r, with Will, else Will will faile:
Will thou but this, then me thou need'st not woo,
because thy Will with mine must needes preuaile!
So, shall there be but one Will twixt vs two:
Graunt this (deare Lord) for this I thee doe woo.

The Sinner because of the darknesse of his vnderstanding, confesseth his inabilitie to come to the knowledge of Gods will by his Word; and desireth to be holp and enlightened by Gods spirit therin.

Thou hast commanded (Lord) in eu'ry Want,
that Man, thy Creature, still should call on thee;
And thou his iust desires hast said to grant,
then now (ô now) thy Promise keepe with mee:

For now, eu'n from the Bottome of the Deepe,
I cry to thee that art all Heights aboue;

I, crying, call; or rather, calling, weepe
for what I want; that is, thy Grace, and Loue.

Then, as thou art still soothfast, grant them me
that by them still I may thy Heasts performe;
Then if thou would'st I should obedient be,
let Loue and Grace my will to thine conforme.

Lo, I entend, and by thy holy Grace
will still contend, thy holy Will to doe;
Then through the luster of thy brightest Face,
shew it, that I may know, and doe it too.

Giue that which thou hast giu'n me Pow'r to craue,
and Promise to obtaine; thy guiding Spirit:
Thou still dost tender that which I would haue;
yet cannot take it, if I lacke thy light.

A Chaos (Lord) of Darknesse still I am,
without th'inlightning Spirit still moue thereon;
Then let thy Spirit with light so cleare the same,
that it may be an Heau'n for thee alone.

Vnseele mine Eyes, that long thy Light to see;
for, they are blinded with black Ignorance:
Then, Light of Lights to Heau'n direct thou me
the rightest way with thy bright Countenance.

Men are of various mindes about this Way;
some this, some say that way the way doth lie:

[61]

And to it Scripture (Truths right Rule) doe lay;
but Truth ne'er lay in such diuersitie.

For, Truth is one, but these are manifold;
then lead me in this way, else stray I shall:
Incline my Will this rightest way to hold
(how euer strait) and in it neuer fall.

O trade me in thy Paths, I begge of thee
with all the forces of my minde and mouth;
And when I step awry, straight shew it me
by inspiration of thy Spirit of Truth.

If in thy Word I looke for help herein
from all Presumption keepe my priuate Spright:
For, many Doctors so deceiu'd haue beene;
then make my Soule still see, and take the right.

Thy Word's a Lanthorne to direct their steps,
that are as humble, as intelligent:
Yet oft the Wise thy meaning ouer-leapes,
while it's reuealed to the innocent.

Thou spak'st therein to all Capacities,
and lispst to Babes, to make them know thy minde:
Yet if thou guide them not, and ope their eyes,
the Wonders of thy Law they cannot finde.

Thy Will then (shewne and hidden in thy Word)
is hid, though shewne, from those not prompt by thee:

Though Camels there may swim, and Gnats may ford,
yet both may drowne, if (there) too bold they be.

In shallow'st places, there, great Clarkes haue suncke
into the depth of Heresie, and drew
Whole Nations after them; yea, made Kings drunke
therewith, while they Beleeuers-right pursue.

So then, as none could euer see the Sunne
but by the Sunne; so, none can rightly see
Thee in thy Word, but by reflexion
of that pure Light of Lights that comes from thee!

If so, then light me in that Light (thy Word)
sith thou art Light of lights; else may mine Eyes
Be daz'led, and (so) drowne me in each Ford
of those pure Riuers of thy Paradise.

Thy Word is Truth; but those it doth misguide
that know not well thy Language, nor will know;
Sith they will learne but of them-selues and Pride;
so, not thy Word, but they are erring so.

None can be sau'd without they doe thy Will,
which none can doe, vnlesse the same they know:
And none can know it, much lesse it fulfill,
if it, by speciall grace, thou doe not show.

Then, if thou wilt that I shall saued be,
(for thou wilt no mans Death that seekes thy face)

[62]

Let me be taught to know thy Will by thee;
and made to doe it by thy Pow'r and Grace:
So shall I finde what I am seeking still,
To know Thee well, and well to doe thy Will.

An Inuocation against vse of offending, or bad Custome.

Deare Lord! while I bethinke me of the Ils
that me surround; and waigh the Woes I feele
Through mine owne fault (which me with Sorrow fils)
from Life to Death I ready am to reele.

The Sunne of my Care-clouded life hath past
his full Meridian; and, doth now decline
To Seas of griefes, where Age doth sincke at last;
and, at each breath, Death seekes it to define.

Vse of offending, in my passed Dayes,
doth passe my strēgth to change, thogh faine I wold
Custome (to Nature turn'd) my Nature swayes;
and of my selfe, the while, I haue no hold.

Yet, if, I dye ere so bad vse I leaue,
my life must leaue me hopelesse at my death;
For, what I giue to God I shall receiue;
and, as I spend, so shall I yeeld my Breath.

I minde to mend; but still procrastinate;
for, my Familiar, Sinne, is loth to part;
And doth my halfe-dead body animate
to vse her still; so, wounds, and heales my Heart.

But sith I am not sure to breath once more,
and that my life and death are well-neere met,
And Death t'eternall Weale or woe's the Doore,
why sinne I now, my lifes Sunne neere is set?

What is in Sinne, that it should so bewitch?
A bitter-sweete (if Sweete it be) and makes
The Body glad, but still the Soule to grutch;
and eu'n from life the vitall-vertue takes.

The wisest yet, that euer breath'd this Aire
of Humane Race, well tride it to be so,
Whose equall Wealth and Wisedome did repaire
to all in Nature, but this Sweete to know.

And yet he found the Sow'r excell'd the Sweet:
the Sweet but short, the Sow'r surmounting Time:
Wee want his Meanes, his high Delights to meete;
yet hazard we our soules to them to climbe!

Lord, make me wise by his experience,
who, in great wealth and Wisedome, plaid the Foole:
And for meere Folly was at huge expence;
then, let his follies me still wisely schoole.

[63]

Yea, let me learne of Him that all doth teach;
of whom the wisest learne Sinnes snares to shunne;
He was a King, and Preacher; and did preach
that All is vanitie beneath the Sunne.

If all be vaine beneath, and true he sayes,
let me aboue the Sunne seeke true delight;
Which I shall finde by walking in thy Wayes,
so thou (deare Lord) consort me with thy Spright.

O then consort me so, and with his pow'r
enable me all lets to ouer-runne;
Let me not stay one Minute of an How'r
to ioy in any thing beneath the Sunne.

But in thy Sunne of Iustice let me ioy,
which fils the Heau'ns and Earth with purest light:
Then, let all other ioyes my soule annoy,
that so in him I may alone delight:
Thou canst doe this; then doubt I not thy Will,
Which still is good, then my good-will fulfill.

The Sinner refers his Will to Gods will in all things: desiring helpe for perseuerance therein.

Deare Lord, and God, true Louer of my Soule,
in my desires, I wholy doe resigne

vnto thy blessed Will this Will of mine
To forme, reforme, direct, and still controule.

And as my Soule my body moues alone
without whose motion it would still be still:
so let thy Sp'rit still moue my soule and will.
Else, let them haue no motion of their owne.

Let me forsake my selfe for thy deare sake;
yea, truely hate my selfe for loue of thee,
and let no pleasures please or profit me,
If thou (deare Lord) at them displeasure take.

I offer vnto thee mine All, and more
(had I much more than All) to mortifie
my senses and affections; that thereby
I may (so mortifide) liue euermore.

My selfe I (likewise) offer to the lack
of sensible deuotion, grace, and loue,
so it may humble me, and make me proue
Thy might the more in my sinnes vtter wracke.

I offer (too) my selfe, with prompt desire,
t'indure all losse, in name, fame, goods, and friends,
all pleasure, paine, and what else flesh offends,
That by their waight, my sp'rit may mount the higher.

In summe; I offer vp my selfe aboue
my selfe, to all mischance that can befall

[64]

saue sinne alone; yet, if thy goodnesse shall
Put me in Hell, Ile brooke it for thy Loue.

And though it be impossible for Flesh
to suffer it; yet, should my Will be prest,
If thou would'st haue it so, in Hell to rest;
For Loue in quenchlesse flames can sense refresh.

Then loue me (Lord) and still my loue enflame;
then put me where thou wilt, Ile there abide
without repining, ire, or ghostly pride,
With Martyrs, that, in torments, laud thy Name.

But sith by reason of my Flesh (too fraile)
I cannot be so prompt these paines to brooke;
then, help me (Lord) but with a louing looke,
And ouer Death and Hell I shall preuaile.

Looke kindly on me then (deare Lord) and so
Our Wils shall still be one in weale and woe.

The Sinner desires fruition of the Deitie; and that his Soule should be euer the habitation thereof.

Eternall Lord, who art more prompt to heare
then Faith to pray; of that great grace of thine

Regard the Boone I aske in Loue and Feare;
and to mine humble suite thine eares incline.

Grant me fruition of thy DEITIE
that all my Soule may so be satisfied;
For lesse then that can her not satisfie,
though all els (boundlesse) were still amplifide!

Those gifts and graces that thy Grace may moue
t'inhabit my poore Soule, vouchsafe thou me:
That with thy gifts thy grace may be in Loue;
and loue my Soule for harbring them, and thee.

But, in those gifts O let her be repos'd
none otherwise then as they fashion her
To harbor Thee; (that's, make her well dispos'd)
els let her rest be restlesse euer there.

My Sonne (saist thou, deare Lord) giue me thy heart,
ô small request! my Heart, Lord what is it
But one poore bit of wormes-meate? can no Part
of me delight thee, but so vile a bit?

Why, thou didst wholy giue thy selfe to me:
shall I returne thee then but that alone?
O tis (sweet Sauiour) most vnworthy Thee;
for which (thou know'st) it's, meekly, wo-begon.

Yet gladly would I giue it; but, it is
so small, vncleane, vnquiet, and accurst,

[67]

That I doe feare to giue it so amisse,
sith, of all gifts, it's worser than the worst.

Yet take it (Lord of Loue) it is thine owne,
how e'er I haue abus'd it; make it such
As thou wouldst haue it; let it still be knowne
fit for thy Stampe, vpon thy Trials Touch.

O glorious King, what grace is't to our Hearts
to be accepted, and desir'd of thee?
Then take my Heart, yea, all mine other parts;
for they are safe in thee, but lost in me.

And is this all thy gaine (ô kindest Lord?)
and is this all our gift, one wretched Heart?
And for the same dost thou thy selfe afford?
then take it to thee (Lord) through ioy, or smart.

For, nothing can I giue thee, but the same
augments my gaine and glory endlesly:
Then take it wholy, set me all on flame
to melt me into thee by Charitie!

For, were my Heart as great as is the Heau'n
that all includes; and, that past price it were,
It should to thee (desiring it) be giu'n,
sith, I haue thee for it, who hast no Peere.

Then, World be silent, call it not againe;
Flesh be as still, permit it still to goe;

And Diuell striue not; for, it is in vaine;
my God will haue it, then it shall be so.

Vade, vade; for, all you cannot fill my Heart,
my God alone can doe it; and He must
Haue it to fill: then from me all depart,
that seeke to fill it but with winde or dust.

And sole Sufficer, chaine it still to Thee
with Adamantine Linckes of endlesse Loue;
That through those Straites which thou hast past for me,
it may be drawne to thee, if slow it moue.

Let it attend thee to the Iudgement-Hall,
where thou wast doom'd to death; and to the Hill,
Whereon thou suffer'dst; let it taste thy Gall;
and, on thy Crosse let it be fixed still:
That be'ing with thee thus plagu'd, disgrac'd & slaine,
It may with thee be rais'd, and crown'd, and raigne.

A soueraigne Salue against Sinne and Despaire out of S. Augustine.

Deare Lord, when sinfull thoughts doe me assaile
to thy deare Wounds then let me hye with speed;
When burning lust against my thoughts preuaile,
quench it, by minding me how long they bleede!

[66]

In all Extreames I finde no Meane so good
as thy wide Wounds to keepe my Soule still whole:
They cannot dye that drown'd are in thy bloud;
for, that is Aqua vitæ to the Soule!

Thy Death is my desert; then doe I not
lacke merits; sith thy Death destroyes my Sinne:
Thy Mercy is my merit; and, my Lot
is glories Crowne, through my firme hope therein:

For, if thy grace be great; then is it cleare
my glory shall be great: and, the more pow'r
Thou hast to saue, the lesse I ruine feare:
for, Grace abounding, makes Loues hope secure.

Yet I acknowledge mine iniquities;
and, Conscience, with her thousand Witnesses,
Accuse me of extreame impieties;
yet will I hope of mercy ne'erthelesse:

For, where Sinne hath abounded, there hath grace
abounded more; so, loue enflaming in
The grieu'd delinquent: who doth enterlace
sweete teares of Ioy, with bitter Teares for Sinne.

For, who dispaires, God, vtterly denyes;
deny his Attributes, himselfe deny:
His Iustice we prouoke; his mercies rise
but from him-selfe, who is selfe-Clemencie!

Then, let my thoughts still murmure while they will,
and aske, why such a Sinner grace should seeke?
Yet in firme hope I will continue still,
sith he hath promised that cannot breake.

Who can doe what he will; and he will doe
what he hath sworne: which is; he will make whole
The broken Heart for sinne, and grace it too;
yea, help contrition in the willing Soule.

My Sinnes (though great) then, me no whit dismay,
when his deare Death I minde: for, all my Crimes
Can ne'er o'er-match his Mercies, if I pray
for grace, to hope in his sure help betimes.

His Thorny Crowne, and Nayles, that him transpierc'd
assures my hope that He and I are One:
Which haue his Iudgements gainst my sinnes reuerst,
if I but grieue for what I haue misdone.

Longius hath clear'd the sad coast to his Heart
with his fell Speare; that (kinde to me) made way:
There rest I now in Ioy and ioyfull smart,
of safety sure, while there, in hope, I stay.

Vpon the Crosse he doth his Armes extend,
t'embrace the Contrite: then, betweene those armes,
Deuoutly will I throw me till mine end;
so, safe I shall be there, from foes, and harmes.

[69]

He bow'd his Head, before Death brake his Heart,
to kisse his Louers with the kisse of Peace;
Then, still Ile kisse him: so, shall I depart
in peace to him that is my Sinnes release.

Sweet Christ embrace me then, and kisse me till
I dye to liue, to clip and kisse thee still.

The crazed Soule being almost in dispaire, desireth Grace to hope in Gods mercy.

Lord , in thy Loue, let me be none of them
that loue but in a Calme; a time beleeue;
But when a Storme ariseth, doe blaspheme;
and with infernall S'prits, thy Sp'rit doe grieue.

Thus what I need, I craue; but what I feare
thou know'st (deare Lord:) I feare I am too bold
To seeke thy loue, because I doe appeare
no correspondence with thy loue to hold:

For, he that merits hate (Lord) how can he
straight looke for loue? & who hath shame deseru'd
Seeke for immortall glory? or, to be
from shame and paine, which he deserues, preseru'd?

He moueth but his Iudge to iustest wrath
that, being faulty, lookes he him should cleare,

Without meete satisfaction for the scath
which he hath done; all these my hopes doe feare.

For, he that is to shame and death condemn'd
small reason hath to looke for high'st respect;
If but his death by grace might be redeem'd,
in sense, it should be all he could expect.

But why, ô why, doe I now call to minde
what I haue done, to make my feares more rife?
Death I deserue; yet seeke I life to finde,
that liue but to offend the Lord of life.

Can I still vexe my Iudge, yet looke for grace?
and still prouoke my King, yet seeke his loue?
Nay, still but buffet my sweete Iesus face,
and yet expect he should my Iesus proue?

Alas! how should he? much lesse how can I
such fauour seeke, that so his Fauour wrongs?
Can wrong expect such right, in equitie?
ô no: for, vengeance to the same belongs!

Vengeance belongs to wrongs so great, so plaine,
as so to wrong a MAIESTIE so great!
Then Feare perswades me I seeke grace in vaine;
yet Grace makes hope some Fauour to intreat.

I haue neglected to fore-see the woes
that follow sinne, and now would grace for-goe:

[68]

I oft haue taken mortall ouerthrowes,
yet scarse haue felt a mortall ouerthrow.

I haue encreast my scars that feared not
to adde still sinne to sinne, and graue to light:
Fresh Wounds haue opened those before I got,
to make the Cure most hard, or curelesse quite.

And what the Balmes of Grace had clos'd before,
I, through the itch of sinne, haue opened wide:
Which, through corruption, now are growne so sore
that scarse I can so sore a Cure abide.

The Skinne, which growing ouer, hid my Wounds
through breaking out of the corruption, gape;
For sinne the grace once granted quite confounds:
so that I feare I hardly can escape.

For, if the righteous man shall perish in
his sinne committed: how much more then shall
Repentant sinners turning eft to sinne?
the thought whereof more grieues me then my fall.

The newly dead, Christ quickly rais'd to life;
but he must groane in spirit, weepe, cry and pray,
Yer Lazarus be rais'd: for, mortall strife
Death made with life, to leaue so long a Prey:

So, it is in Regeneration; for,
the lesse the Soule's defil'd with sinnes delight,

And the more she the least sinne doth abhorre;
the lesse winde of Gods Sp'rit reuiues that sp'rit.

What shall I doe? I can but sinne (deare Lord)
if so; thou canst but plague, yea, plague with Death:
Sith still I sinne then, in thought, deed, and word,
cut off my sinne, or els abridge my breath:

For, Breath it is that kindles sinne in me
with blowing at the coales of damn'd desires;
These, through my banefull breath, still raging be;
and quite consume the grace that me inspires.

Then, if I did not breathe, I should not sinne;
yet should I loose my breath e'er sinne bewaile
I by that losse should but damnation winne:
then, let me rue my faults yer Breath doth faile:
But, if thou wilt that I should longer liue,
Let me no longer sinne, or longer grieue.

A desire of the louing Soule, of God, to be kissed with the kisse of Peace.

Kisse me, ô kisse me, with Loues honyed Kisse,
ô dearest Loue, and sweet'st-Heart of my Soule:
Whose loue is like pure Wine that cordiall is;
& doth sowre cares, with Comforts sweet, controle

[71]

Thy Name is like to sweet suffused Balme;
which makes chast Soules eu'n sick for loue of thee:
Whose Passions (striuing in a blessed calme
on Sorrowes Seas) to thee still rowling be.

Draw me (deare Loue) then, after thee Ile runne
vpon the sent of thy diuine Perfumes:
My Loue's impatient (since it first begunne)
of this delay, which quite my Soule consumes:
Then, ô, delay no more to marry mee;
But wed my Soule that pines for loue of Thee.

Sith all Gods Creatures are against those that are against God, in action, the Sinner desireth to be in vnitie with him.

As when a Master hath most mortall Foes,
his Seruants, and men, made by him, will be
Most persecuting Enemies to those,
till with their Lord and Master they agree.

So, all thy Creatures (Lord) doe rise in Armes
against great Sinners (if impenitent)
To plague them with all kinde of killing harmes,
till they be ruin'd quite, or made repent.

But being one with Thee, our Enemies
shall seeke our Fauour, and themselues submit:
For, when they see our Succour's in the Skies,
they will adore vs, and acknowledge it:
Then make me (Lord) my foes straight put to flight,
By being one with Thee, for whom they fight.

The Sinner desireth to haue the bent of his Will, made appliable to Gods.

The Way to Heau'n (that truest Port of Peace)
is straite and straight vntill at Hell we be:
Where, on the right hand then, we turne with ease;
for, when we passe that Point; then, well are wee.

But, being straite, but few that Way doe wend;
and being straight, the crooked misse it still:
Then, to this Port, but few their course doe bend,
sith most are crooked; euer bent to Ill.

Then, make vs straight (deare Lord) with handling straite;
or, bring vs to thy bent with other Art;
Wee know thine vpright Compasse hath the sleight
to bow vs to the bending of thy Heart:
That we may shoote (and still may winners proue)
The Shafts of our Indeauours at thy Loue.

[70]

The Sinner inueighes against his fleshes frailtie, desiring God to strengthen it with his pow'r, and Grace.

Vile Flesh, why dost thou so my Spirit impugne,
That still the Sonne of Righteousnesse I wrong
who di'd to make you liue?
No Moment breathe I, but I breathe out Sinne
That ends with shame, where Sorrow doth beginne,
which makes me glad to grieue.

In thee fraile Flesh, I feele my bloud to boyle
With heate of such desires as make the Soile
but Sinne, in graine, to beare.
My Spirits (that in that Bloud doe swim with paine,
Yet floate they, sith false pleasures them sustaine)
are neere the wracke I feare.

I feare the Rocke of refuge to the Iust:
For, how, in Truth, should Treason put her trust?
Then, truthlesse Traitor, I
May iustly feare, that Grace, in Iustice, will
My gracelesse Soule, for Fleshes Treasons, spill,
which makes me (liuing) dye.

I liuing dye, not as one mortifide
To sinne; wherein, as dead, aliue, I bide;
The more my griefe and blame:
I faine would dye to liue; but, Flesh doth draw
My Life to Death, sith I obserue the Law
of Sinne, which is my shame.

O thou, whom Iacob wrastled with a space,
Strengthen my Faith to wrastle with thy Grace,
that it may let me goe
(Although it lame my Loynes, and crack my Thighes,
Wherein strong Sinne still domineering lyes)
into thy Weale through Woe.

The Sinner recounting his manifold transgressions, and finding himselfe thereby in danger of perdition, desireth Grace, through a world of sorrowes, to auoid both Sinne, and damnation.

My Soule (still faint in doing well: and strong
in working ill) now, now thy selfe retire
From outward Cares: or else amidst their throng
poure out thy Sorrowes to thy heau'nly Sire.

Thy scatter'd thoughts (in Fancies lewd, as light)
gather together; and with all thy Pow'rs,

[73]

(Vnited) shew thy sinne and cursed plight;
sith meeke Confession grace, for sinne procures.

Weighing my deeds, I finde too light they be;
yet, more then I can beare; nay, me they quell:
So, am farre lighter, if thou ballance me;
and yet my lightnesse weighes me downe to Hell!

Shame shall not let me (though it boile my Bloud)
t'vnfold the foule diseases of my Soule
To him, that can and will (so) doe me good;
and, make her Angell-faire, though ougly-foule.

My Time then, to my shame I must confesse,
(vnto my Soules Physitian, grace to winne)
Hath all in sinne beene spent; yet, ne'erthelesse,
too short I thought it for my shortest sinne!

If I, at any time, did seeming-good
t'was but corrupt, or counterfaite at least:
And, so, t'was but well done in likelihood,
being but a sinne well-coulored, at best.

My deeds with ill haue (then) depraued bin,
or else of good depriu'd; so, both accurst:
And, if my best be nought but cloaked sinne;
what are my worst, but worse than what is worst!

Not for committing odious sinnes in act,
but for omitting deedes of Charitie;

(Which Iustice, at her Iudgement, will exact)
the Reprobate are damn'd; and, so, may I:

For, tis but halfe the duty of my whole
to doe no ill; but, still, I good should doe
With all the care and forces of my Soule;
else ill I may be doom'd; and, damned too.

God gaue me life, but for his Seruice; than
I must account how I each moment spend;
And, sinn'd I not; yet, sith I am a Man
that doth no good, it's damned in the end.

And, were my deeds vnited, and (withall)
clear'd from pollution, and from all defect,
Yet are they nought to gifts meere corporall,
which I haue had, and yet haue, in effect.

So that too like an idle beast I am,
that still deuoureth more then he doth earne;
And lookes for food ere he deserues the same;
nor, doth the giuers gifts, from Fates discerne.

O! out vpon me (most vngratefull beast
abusing Reason, as if I had it not)
What shall I say (deare Lord) I must, at least,
confesse I haue thy goodnesse most forgot.

O! with what Marble Eyes, or flintie Front
shall I the glory of thy presence brooke,

[72]

Who art both Iudge (of me to take account)
and Witnesse too, as witnesse will thy Booke!

And yet (alas!) lesse pow'r I haue to shunne
thy presence, then haue heart the same t'abide;
For, thou art all in All: then, can I runne
from thee, when thou dost compasse all, beside!

Yet haue I bin (but in Ciuilitie)
more loath t'offend my meanest mortall Friend,
Then (in good Conscience) so great maiestie
that filleth All, and All doth comprehend!

And haue (I shame to say't) more sham'd to sinne
in sight of men, then in thy dread aspect:
My Soule is blinde; so, saw thee not within:
and mortall Eyes, but mortall things respect.

And for the Graces which thou gau'st to mee,
to glorifie the Giuer, I (vile wretch)
Haue to my selfe the glory tane from thee:
so, with thy gifts, I doe thee still impeach.

I haue not lou'd thee for thy mercy; nor,
haue fear'd thee for thy Iustice: yea, thy might
(Though most almighty) I did most abhorre
when it, in Iustice, on me (wretch) did light.

Thou hast to me reueal'd thy Will; but looke
how often I haue glost it with mine owne,

(Were it within, or else without thy Booke)
so oft hath thine, by mine, bin ouerthrowne.

And if, I reckon right betweene thy Law
and mine obseruance; (though I feare thy Rod)
I must confesse neere Dauids soole I draw,
that said in Soule (at least) There is no God.

I haue obserued nought but what my sense,
(depraued sense) being Ill, did hold for good;
Which Ill (with all the Stormes of foule Offence)
still wrought vpon the Current of my Bloud.

Mine Eyes, are sharpe, as eager, still to pry
into mens worst parts rather than their best;
And wrench that little much, that is awry;
and, what's most right, to make it lesse, at least.

Apt to detract from others; and exact
praise to my selfe from others: this is it
That makes me enuy eu'ry witty Tract,
vnlesse it be composed by my Wit.

As apt (most apt) to giue, as take offence;
hard to be pleas'd, displeas'd too easily:
As prompt to Choler, as to violence,
but, fearing death; yet (desperate) prest to dye!

In reasoning rash; and yet soone (rudely) round
to compasse Faith to falshood (soone) thereby:

[73]

And where Truth stands, to throw her on her ground
in beastly rage, vntill shee seeme to lye.

False in Humilitie, and true in pride;
in iesting, rough; and rash in censuring:
To gouerne, I haue made my Heart too wide;
t'obey too straite, through griefes straite gouerning.

More then the Mount Vesuuius haue I burn'd
in vaine Ambitions euer-raging flame;
And, all good gifts and graces haue I turn'd
to Fewell; burning in desire of fame.

Thou gau'st me gifts whereof the praise I sought;
so, robb'd thee (Lord) of glory, and (with speede)
I wages seeke, for that which thou hast wrought:
for, for thy Workes in me, I looke for meede.

More proud than Lucifer (the Fount of Pride)
for, he, being glorious made, might soone o'erweene;
But I, being bred of but Slime-putrifide,
vsurpt thy praise; so, much more proud haue beene.

Wherein, if thou hast crost me, I haue storm'd
worse than that Hell-bound: for, he fell to Hell;
Then easily might fume, being so enorm'd;
but I on Earth, at ease, against thee swell.

The lightest pleasures make me (lighter) doate:
but, easiest paines doe presse me downe to death:

If Fates but smile, in pleasures Seas I floate;
and if but frowne, it eu'n expires my breath.

I foulest Vices, vnder vertuous Names,
doe patronize: as, extreame Crueltie,
For vpright Iustice; Loue of lightest Dames,
for perfect Zeale; Selfe-loue, for Charitie:

Craft, for true Wisedome; Pride, for Cleanlinesse;
Basenesse, for Meeknesse; Doubt, for Holy Feare;
Meere Cowardize, for discreet Warinesse;
Rashnesse, for Manhood; Couetize, for Care.

And so of others (in none other sort)
I vaunt their vice, with vertuous tearmes inuolu'd;
And haue an eye but onely to Report
while I, but right to seeme, am wrong resolu'd.

All good Instructions fall into my Soule,
as Aprill-showres into the Sea doe fall;
Whose swelling surges doe their drops controule;
and euer turne their sweetnesse into Gall.

When I haue beene reprou'd for ought vnright,
I would deny, excuse, or it defend:
Or else reproch my iust reprouers straight;
and so, without offence, would faine offend.

If I haue vow'd deuotion; and (withall)
haue taskt my selfe with holy Exercise;

[74]

I soone infring'd it (were it ne'er so small)
so, loath'd I Manna, Leekes to gurmandize.

And looke how one that taketh fire in hand,
but out of hand straight thowes it; cannot hold
The heate thereof; so, I doe vnderstand
but small effect of Prayer made so cold.

As Cates vnchewed, haue they past from me
without concoction, not without annoy;
For, when I thinke they went away so free,
my Soule is sicke with griefe, and grieu'd with ioy.

Thus lose I still my time in going on,
and comming off from eu'ry good attempt:
So, purpose without prosecution,
leaues my best actions (idle) in contempt.

With but beginnings haue I worne my dayes;
and oft haue fail'd, but in the meere assay:
Yet, for but failing, haue I lookt for praise;
(ô shame!) sith I good motions did obey.

I (likewise) haue beene light in my Dsiere;
now this, now that, and then the other face
(Sparkes of thy beauty) set my Heart on fire
with Beauties grace to sinne, for want of grace.

So, could not walke abroad, but that (anon)
my wandring sight would giue thy sight offence;

For, eu'ry sparkling Eye mine lighted on,
through mine, straight kindled my Concupiscence.

For, this (too oft) I haue abus'd the Muse
thou gau'st me, but to woo thee, for thy Loue;
But I (lewde Louer) did her Measures vse
to mete fraile motions, strongly, so, to moue.

Thus Beauty (that should make me loue thee more)
I made the wrest, to rend my loue from thee:
So, both with mine, and others gifts, did gore
the Giuers heart, erst split for loue of me.

And if I made (as seldome so I did)
a Cou'nant with mine Eye that it should gaze
No more on Beauty; yet (the more forbid)
the more, thereby, it glanc'd on Beauties Blaze.

Alas! how brutish haue I bin the while,
that (like a Beast) haue swayed beene by sense;
And made my Reason obey Affections vile,
repugnant to mine owne Intelligence!

O life (dead life, depriu'd of life of grace)
how stirr'st thou so, without that vitall pow'r?
Thou art too proud, and yet too beastly base:
at highest height but like a fading Flowre.

O Lord of life, a death it is to mee
to minde my life so drown'd in deadly sinne!

[75]

Which though it Be, and moue, and liue in Thee;
yet (as without thee) it hath cursed bin:

For, I haue made no scruple to offend;
but with such boldnesse haue I sinn'd as it
Had beene a meane but to a blessed end;
so, seem'd to sinne with Will, enforc'd by Wit!

Nay, should I bring my best deeds to thy Test,
they'le proue but drosse of meere Hypocrisie;
Or Vice in Vertues habit, at the best,
which is too bad for basest Pietie.

With Iacobs voyce, and Esaus hands I held
my Soule to sinne, and good opinion too:
The wicked (so) the World, at will, doe weild;
which faine I would, but that I cannot doe.

The World's t'vnweildy for my feeble gripe;
it still fals from me sith I cannot hold;
And, at each fall, thou giu'st me (Lord) a stripe,
sith, though I cannot weild it, yet I would.

Yea, would much rather then my wilde affects,
or ought that holy men doe take in hand:
For, my best doings, my iust doubt suspects,
sith they in doubt of doing ill doe stand.

How tedious Time hath seem'd when I haue praid!
how wearisome the practise! tir'd how soone!

How much distracted! and how well apaid
when it was done, though done ere well begunne!

So was I like but one of Pilates Slaues,
that croucht to thee (ô Christ) but to offend:
So my best actions are but holy braues,
that haue more shew then strength to foile the Feend.

Haue I done good to any? if I haue,
t'was but of debt; and though it were but lent,
I prizde it more, and bragd of what I gaue;
so, all my good was done with ill intent.

Haue I discours'd of things that heauenly were?
In curious Questions (lightly it was done:
As where Heau'n stands? and Hell (it locall) where?
not how to come to Heau'n, and Hell to shunne.

I haue beene prompt to learne, what Wisedome would
abhorre to teach; and I haue Eares and Eyes
To heare and see, but what she scornes t'vnfold;
for, I attend to nothing that is wise.

What shall I say (that haue so much to say;
for, endlesse plaint holds endlesse Sinne in chase)
My first, was filth; my progresse, Sinne; my stay,
is double death, without Gods treble grace.

O Sinne (the Soules death; and, of Death, the life)
I would not shunne thee, when (at first) I might;

[76]

And now I cannot without endlesse strife;
then, help me Grace, with strong sinne still to fight.

My Soule is tir'd with vanitie and Sinne;
I loath to liue; and yet I feare to dye:
Then (wretch) what should I doe but now beginne
to dye to liue, sith liuing-death is nye!

But, ah (alas) could I weepe endlesly,
it were but meete mine endlesse sinnes to cleare:
But though I should lament them ceaselesly
in longest mortall life, too short it were.

Yet, will I not dispaire; no, God forbid:
seau'n times a day, the iustest men doe fall:
And though, from men, the fall and bruise be hid,
yet, thou dost see them both, who seest All.

At all houres no man's wise: for, sober Noah,
may be oe'er-come with Wine: stout Abraham too
Through terror lye: Meeke Moses may destroy
th'Egyptian in his ire; and, so, misdo.

Religious Ioseph, irreligiously
sweare by the life of Pharaoh (faith to binde)
Gods Darling Dauid, hide Adultery
with murther of his Seruant, true as kinde.

Wise Salomon, the veriest Foole became,
when Pharos Daughter, and his Pagan-wiues,

(Through grosse Idolatrie) made him defame
Gods truth: so Blots, the clear'st haue in their liues.

Saints, so are call'd; as eu'ry thing is nam'd
of whatsoe'er therein most worthy is:
As Golden-mines are stiled so, though fram'd
more full of Drosse then Golden-rarities.

And so the best men, though inherent Vice
may ouer-weigh their Vertue; yet, we see,
Th'are called vertuous by their Vertues price,
that doth out-price the Vice, though more it be.

Then giue me courage (Lord) t'aduance my Hope
to thy great mercy (that doth equall thee)
And let All, couerd with the Heau'nly Cope,
for thy deare Loue, be but as Doung to mee.

Vaine pleasures packe, Preferments-vaine, auaunt,
that would but make me quite forget to dye;
My Soule, ye Syrens, doe no more enchaunt:
for, if you doe, Ile breake your strongest Tye.

And all my ioy shall now but be in griefe;
griefe for the Ioy which I conceiu'd in sinne:
So, nought but dying shall be my reliefe:
for, life well lost, immortall life doth winne.

Lord, giue me strength to offer violence
to wicked Custome, till I breake it quite:

[77]

And, still to striue with Nature; Sinne and Sense,
vntill they striue no more in Peace nor fight.

And, for my Sinnes, come all annoyes on me
in royall-armies till you blow me vp,
Aboue the sunne; and all despights that be
fall freely on me from my Sauiours Cup.

Scorne me, proud World, still looke on me ascance;
deride me, Diuell, plague me, doe thy worst:
Nay (Lord) from me conceale thy Countenance;
so thou, in fine, wilt blesse me so accurst.

And, for I haue despis'd thee (Lord of All)
let all that Is, despise me till I dye;
Nay, let disgrace, with death, vpon me fall;
so I may rise to grace, and life thereby.

O thou, my cursed Nature, swolne with Pride,
swell not against contempt (though ne'er so vile)
Take all and more, if more can be beside
contempt of all; and, ioy therein the while.

For, being nothing, of my selfe, but Sinne;
or else (besides that But) I Nothing am;
How can or sinne, or Nothing, Glory winne
but through a World of woe, contempt, and shame?

Skill, will, and pow'r then giue me (Lord) to breake
this head-strong Iade, my Flesh; and, make it glad

To beare a World of woe; to make it meeke;
and, but for falling vnder it, be sad.

I am thy Worke, then, worke thy Will in mee;
And, make my Carriage (Lord) from falling free.

That the vertuous haue the Promises of this life, as well as of that to come.

Thy Friends (deare Lord) are too much honored;
thy Persecutor to thee reconcil'd,
Had Sacrifices to him tendered:
so much the World is forc'd t'adore thy Childe!

The People freely their possessions sell,
to lay the Price at thine Apostles feete:
To whom the worst of Ils doe fall out well;
and Gall it selfe, to them made Sugar-sweet!

Then, what but Gall it selfe will Honey seeke
besides the Honey of thy sweetest Loue?
For, who are more exalted then the meeke,
sith Heau'n and Earth of them doe most approue?
Then, if thou make me meeke, thou mak'st me more,
Then Heau'n and Earth: for, both will me adore.

[78]

For perfect Vnion with God, and Grace to shunne all Lets that may hinder it.

When I (sweet Sauiour) minde the Orison
thou mad'st thy Maundy-night (with strong effect)
When as thou praid'st for perfect vnion
betweene thy Father, thee, and thine elect.

I am thereby encouraged to pray,
that in that Vnion (though too base I be)
I may b'included, if so be I may
(being so vile) so inward be with thee.

Which can be hardly (if at all it can)
without my Soule forsake the Flesh and Fiend
And all besides thee, be it Angell, Man,
or what soe'er, for Thee her onely END!

But, this shee cannot doe without thy Grace,
thy grace preuenting, and assisting both:
Then grace her so that she may thee embrace;
and in respect of thee, all others lothe.

By that deare vnexampled Loue that made
thee hang all naked on the Crosse, vouchsafe

That I may liue with thee, as nought I had
besides: though I the World besides, should haue.

And if it may be (Lord) ô let me liue
without the least Sinne: for, the least that is
Doth let out Vnion, and doth euer striue
to seuer me for euer from thy Blisse.

Then, grant that I my body so may keepe
from all transgressing, that I may not moue
One Ioynt t'vmoyne vs; but my Soule to sweepe
from all Pollution, that doth let thy Loue.

That, from offending, it may be as cleare,
as it was made by thee (in Thee to rest)
And though she cannot be so perfect here,
yet make Her still desire the same, at least.

Yea, make me will no Ioy (for that is none)
that is not in thee: and, the Bread I eate,
Let it no more delight me than a Stone;
but onely, but to serue Thee, take my meate!

And, when my Palate proues some Foode too sweet,
then let me thinke how much more sweet thou art,
That mad'st it such; so, make me make it mecte
to make me taste thy Sweetnesse in my Heart.

So let me vse all Creatures, pleasing Sense,
to send me to Thee, Cause of that Effect.

[79]

So, in them still, taste but thine Excellence;
and, by them still, the more the same affect.

Yea, let no Sweet (of whatsoeuer kinde,
that's but created) once my Soule allure
From thee (sweet Lord) or from continuall minde
of thy deare Sweetnesse, that all Sweetes procures.

But, Loue and Meeknesse are the onely two
to make vs one (deare Sweet) that diuers be:
Then let high'st Loue, and lowest Meeknesse too
make one of two; that's, one of thee and mee.

And, meeke to make me, let me euer minde,
I am nought, haue nought, know nought, nought can do,
And nought desire; nor se ke but Grace to finde
to loue thee highly and be lowly too.

Then make me rich in Soule and poore in spirit;
rich in good deeds, and yet most poore in thought:
When I doe best, to weene I worst doe merit;
and, when most good, to thinke I am most nought.

So, by the By-path (that but Fooles doe finde)
of true Simplicitie, that's iust, and free,
To runne to Thee, and leaue the World behinde
to thinke me mad, for running so to Thee.

But let me so be still besides my selfe,
and still besides the Way the World doth roame,

Though it with Flowers be strowde, and pau'd with pe[illeg.],
yet let me flie it in my hying home.

The Heau'n-rapt Saint was so himselfe beside:
for, hee all earthly Dainties held as Doung;
And while, as mad, the most did him deride,
he went to Thee a narrow way and long.

Nay, thou thy selfe (dear Lord that all dost schoole)
because thou didst elect this Way to goe
And that reiect, attir'd wast like a Foole,
and so esteem'd: then let me foole it so.

But hide my life in thee; so, shall I liue
a light to all that walke in wayward moode;
For, them thou hid'st that good example giue
from eu'ry Ill; then let me giue this good.

But when I giue it, let me thinke I giue
the good thou gau'st: for, all good gifts are thine:
So shall I rightly thinke, while so I liue;
and all the praise thereof to thee resigne;
So let me doe and thinke; so shall I gaine
True Vnitie with thee, in Ioy and Paine!

[80]

The Sinner in great sorrow for Sinne, relyeth on God for grace and comfort.

On thy help (Lord) I relye,
then, poore I
Perish must, if thou restraine it:
O then stretch thy helping-hand,
or command.
That I may with speede obtaine it;
For, as one forgotten quite,
out of sight,

I (forlorne) in sorrow languish.
Help, ô help me then with speede:
for, I feed
(As on Bread) on nought but Anguish!
If I sinne, I sigh therefore;
and deplore

That I haue in ought offended;
Yea, my Soule doth waste with woe,
sith I know
Sinne doth marre what Theis hast mended.
Faine I would, then, cease to sinne,
and beginne

Now to liue as thou hast willed:
But, if by I hee (that didst fire
that desire)
It be not, of me, fulfilled;

I, at best, but well shall will.
doing ill,
Then I shall for it be vexed:
So shall I but sinne and grieue
while I liue;
And in Conscience be perplexed.

It is tedious to my Sp'rit
day and night,
Thus to sinne, then pine in passion:
For, being staid, yet still to fall,
is no small
Signe of death or reprobation.

Help, then help me (Lord) lest I
doubtfull dye:
Make my sorrowes passe my sinning;
That I may so cease to sinne,
so to winne
Better end then my beginning:

For, in sinne, conceiu'd I was,
so (alas)
Sinnefull am, sith so conceiued:

[81]

Then, of force, sith I am such,
doe not grutch
I should be to Grace receiued.

With more griefe my Sinne I wound,
than I found
Pleasure in the sinne committing.
O then let my sorrowes still
sinning kill,
While thy Graces vs be knitting.

Blessed God then make me grieue
while I liue,
For my grieuing thee so blessed:
Let my Teares still quench the fire
of thine Ire,
Till I be of Grace possessed.

So shall I (to shunne thy wrath)
tread the Path
Of thy Biddings, till my dying;
Or, on winges of Loues desire
still aspire
To thee; then, ô take me flying.

The Sinner acknowledging repugnant desires in himselfe; desireth to be enabled to performe his good desires.

I would be thine, and I would haue thee mine
(deare Lord) and yet I crosse mine owne desires:
For still I sinne; then, cannot I be thine;
yet faine I would with thee be still entire.

Then, I desire what my desires resist:
ô strange repugnance! would I thee enioy,
And yet in that, which seuers vs, persist?
then, my desires doe my desires destroy.

True (Lord) how euer false this seemes to be;
it false but seemes; but, it's too true herein:
For, my poore Soule would nothing more then thee,
and yet my Soule doth nothing more then sinne.

Lord help me in this strange extremitie
of crosse desires, which in my Soule are found;
My Will is bound to Sinne, but would be free;
then, if it would, how should my Will be bound?

Were it my Flesh alone, desir'd to sinne
(my Soule resisting) t'were not so amisse:

[82]

Such crosse-desires in thy best Saints haue bin;
but in my Soule my Sinne conceiued is.

And yet shee's barraine, gauly, and impure;
of emptinesse not emptie; and thereby
A soulelesse Soule; so, lifelesse doth endure;
yet liues in Death, because she cannot dye.

Then empt mine empty Soule; for, Sinne doth fill
with nought but vacuum her capatious thought:
For, Sinne is nothing, sith thou mad'st not Ill,
without whom nought was made; then, empt this nought.

For, tis that Law (though nought) that still rebels
against both grace and natures Gouernment;
This lawlesse Law my members still compels
to bowe as Sinnes vnrighteous Rule is bent.

Lord, I beleeue; yet, help mine vnbeliefe;
and well doe will; yet, better my desire:
Cure thou the Wound my Will receiu'd (in chiefe)
through Adams Fall; and make our Wils entire.

Giue me both Will and Pow'r to doe thy Will;
and let me neither haue to crosse the same:
For, when I see my Will would thine fulfill
yet doth it not, I pine with griefe and shame.

I cannot will aright (but right resist)
without thy grace preuent my crooked will:

And, willing well, without thy grace assist,
I cannot (for my bloud) my will fulfill.

So, thy preuenting, and assisting grace
makes my Will worke: for, of my selfe, I am
So fraile, by nature, and so beastly base,
that my best thoghts are more then much too blame.

Then let thy Grace my wayward Will preuent;
and helpe me to performe it, so preuented:
Yea, make my thoughts and deedes most innocent;
else, let me ioy in nought but them lamented:
Nay, make my Heart (deare Lord) so apt to waile
That it may weepe, when I to weepe doe faile.

The Sinner desireth, not to be as he is; but, as he ought to be.

To be all nought, is nought at all to be;
and to be sinfull still, is to be nought:
Yet Sinners ARE (though dead in sinne) we see;
as Men ARE, though they are not as thy ought.

Deliuer me (deare Lord) from being such;
(such being take from me that sinfull is:)
For, better nothing be, then be so much;
because so much is more then most amisse!

[83]

Then let me be, not as I am; but what
I ought to Be; or take me as I am:
Take me to Thee, and then I will be that
I ought to be: thine owne in Deed and Name:
For, then I am, when I am wholy thine;
But, I am not, while I am Sinnes or Mine.

In respect of the breuitie and vncertaintie of mortall life; the Sinner desires grace, in time, to prepare for Death.

My stupid Soule, now recollect thy pow'rs,
& weigh in Iudgements Scales thy present state;
Thou, in thy Iaile, my Flesh, but some few howres
hast now to stay, by nature, neere her date.

My Pilgrimage is almost past; ô then
it thee behooues to looke with stedfast eyes
Towards thy Countrey (Home of Happy-men)
least, ere thou looke, in straying pathes thou dye.

Now faints my force, my sense impaires, my flesh
like wither'd fruit now falleth with each breath:
Some Birds o'er-aged doe their youth refresh;
but Man growne Tw[illeg.]-childe is at doore of death,

The Young-man may dye quickely; but the Olde
can not liue long: misse-haps may wracke the one;

But nought, in Arte or Nature, long can hold
the other here; for, they are almost gone.

Then if green yeers should somtimes mind the graue,
the Gray must still, that there are with a breath;
For, Age to Death is but the Gally-slaue,
that on a moments fluxe, whafts life to death.

To serue the World (although I able were)
small cause haue I to will it; sith it is
The ground which nought but ranckest Ils doth beare
and where men most esteemed, are most amisse.

I long haue cultur'd this but flinty-field,
which yeelds but Crops of Cares, Woes, wrongs, and spight;
Yeelding the more annoy the more they yeeld;
whose very Ioyes are Tares that pine the Spright!

Then, it is time to change (by heauenly Arte)
the thriftlesse course of so course Husbandry;
And with Remorse to furrow vp my Heart,
melting the Clods with teares, that are too dry.

And so to sow Loues seedes that faire encrease,
to fat the Soule in vertue, till shee melt
In flames of Charitie (till Faith doth cease)
to giue more taste of heauenly pleasures felt.

And sith my Spring is spent, my Summer past,
and to the Fall of leafe my Tyme arriues:

[84]

Nay, sith his frost Time on my Head hath cast,
I must prepare for cold that life depriues.

My negligence hath made sinnes Earth (my Heart)
to yeeld but poysonous Weeds of thoughts impure;
Which doe but bane my Soule, and get the start
of Vertue, in their growth, by Customes pow'r.

Meane while, my flesh (with heat of youth, & bloud)
hath shrunke from cherishing their root: yet, lo,
The Marrow of my Bones doth yeeld them foode;
so, thogh I shrink, they, through that compost, grow.

And, as one tost at Sea with Stormes and feares
makes little way, though much he be turmoild;
So, he in vice, that past hath many yeeres,
hath had long time, but life as short, as soild.

For, Life is measur'd by the good we doe,
not dayes we spend; sith some, by many dayes,
Get many Deaths; as some haue come vnto
Eternall Life by short Life, spent with praise.

What is a Soulelesse Body, but a Clod?
and what's the Soule without her cause and life,
But quicke to Sinne, and dead to Grace and God;
Hell to it selfe, selfe-Hell, or Hell of strife?

He is the Way, besides which all are wide;
the Truth, against which all in errour dwell:

The Life, without which, all in death abide:
in whom to be, is onely to be well.

O then (deare Lord) let me beginne to liue
now, in my dying, though hard, late it be;
Yet better late then neuer, to reuiue
me, dead in sinne, by mortifying me.

It's hard (I grant) that after life's neere spent
in mortall Sinne, immortall life t'expect:
Yet Lord (how euer late) let me repent
while Aire I breathe, and doe it not reiect.

Yet Loue must cause remorse and hate of Sinne;
for, true contrition (which true life doth giue)
Is caus'd by Loue, sith we so bad haue beene
t'a God so good; that di'd to make vs liue.

Then loue (my Soule) for no ends but thine END;
By-purposes are purposelesse: for, ONE
That knowes all Hearts, Remorse doth but offend
that is not for his Loue conceiu'd alone.

Then, to be truely contrite, hard it is;
sith it respects but Loue, that Grace allures:
Whereof, in but a scruple, if we misse;
it's but Attrition, which lesse Grace procures.

O Death! how sowre is thy rememberance
to him whose Soule is swolne with sweetest Sinne,

[85]

And hath thereof a feeling? I (perchance)
haue so in shew; but more (much more) within!

My Lifes-bud blasted was with heate of bloud;
the Flow'r then needs must fade and Fruit decay:
Nay, leaues and Branch haue perisht with the Bud;
and now the Truncke is turning into Clay.

Lord, how shall I thus soild with Sinne, for shame
appeare before thy Glory? I (alas)
Am but Confusion, euer out of frame;
and was at best ere fully fram'd I was.

The least of all my Sinnes will be (at least)
a most seuere Accuser: but, the whole
(Equall to that which thou dost most detest)
(with but a thought) confounds my thoughtfull Soule.

O Christ, thy Wounds, renued by my Sinne,
still bleed to my Confusion: for, I faint
At that which others still are strength'ned in:
so, thy all-sauing bloud doth me but taint.

Sweete Christ, yet be my Iesus, (though I be
thus quite o'er-whelm'd, with sins cōfounding floud)
And in thy bloud, I shed, still rince thou me
vntill thine Ire be quenched in thy bloud.

Yea, in thy Wounds (as Ionas in the Whale)
saue me from drowning in thy doomes-profound:

Let Mercies Beames my filth of sinne exhale;
and it dispieese, that it no more be found:
So shall I, cast on Safeties Shore by thee,
Still praise thy Grace for so securing me.

The carefull Soule because of the momentany condition of transitory life, desireth to wash away the filth of sin with the teares of continuall penitencie.

Sith on this moment of fraile Life depends
th'eternall weale or woe of humane Breede,
And that no meanes can long deferre their ends,
let Teares still feede me (Lord) till Wormes I feede.

For, Teares for Sin, doth Sin, through grace, destroy;
(so kill their Cause) whereon who feeds shall liue,
Where they that sow in teares, shall reape in ioy;
then let my Teares me (dead in Sinne) reuiue.

They were they foode (ô Christ) that couldst not sin;
and yet, for others sinne, still weptst; then I
That liue a life that's quite o'erwhelm'd therein,
had need to weepe till (drown'd in teares) I dye.

Happy that Soule that on a Sea of Teares
sailes (in Faiths Ship, by Hopes securest Cape)

[86]

Vnto the Port of Peace; and with her beares
Good-workes that make the Worker wracke escape.

This World's but Sorrowes Sea, whereon mankinde
is tost with Stormes of Troubles, that arise
By Enuy, Malice, or Fates wayward winde,
whiles Life to Death, more swift then Swallow flies.

If, in the way, a Calme the Course prolongs,
it holds vs but to griefe, resembling Ioy;
While Pleasure, with her charming Syren-Songs,
o'erwhelme vs (in the end) in deep'st annoy.

Twixt Silla and Charibdis (Ioy and Griefes)
fraile life still floates; and wrackes in Eyther oft;
(Which equally to Death betrayeth Life)
but low estate lesse sinckes then that aloft.

Why should we then prize worldly things so much
which haue no good, but as they vs respect;
And lightly weigh those Treasures without which
we haue no Goodnesse, but are meere Defect?

Honor and Pow'r, Health, Beauty, Strength, and Wit
are but as Smoake, that comes from troubled fire:
The more it growes, the lesse continues it;
and, comes to nought whan it doth high'st aspire!

To be in Princes grace (which all desires)
procures but Pride, which blindes our Iudgements sight,

While like a siled Doue, we (Lord) aspire,
till sou'raigne heate, at height, doth sinke vs quite.

Then tis in vaine, to trust in Princes grace,
which pleasure or their profit may procure;
And when these faile, they streight auert their Face;
but Lord, thy Grace is euer free as sure.

Then let me wholy on thy Grace depend;
yet so, as still I worke it to encrease;
So, it with me shall worke too, to the end;
and, at the end, with me, shall rest in Peace:
To which (deare Lord) vouchsafe thy Grace may goe
With my toil'd Soule, that cannot rest but so:

A short Meditation of the breuitie of life; with an Incitation to make good vse of the present time.

Woldst thou be spurr'd to run the way of truth?
then, see how time doth run with thee away:
Youth comes on Childhood; Man-hood comes on Youth:
on Man-hood, Age; and Age at Death doth stay:

So, Time ascends and descends with such haste
vpon the Scale of Lifes-gradation,
That liu'd we but to mend our misses past,
yet death would cease our work ere halfe were done.

[87]

Time-past, is gone; in it we cannot mend;
Time-future, is vncertaine; then, therein
We are vnsure our ill bents to vnbend;
the Present-time is ours, to cease to sinne:
Yet that Time ceaseth while we thinke thereon;
Then, if we mend not now, now, Time is gone.

A short meditation of Mans Miserie.

What was I, am I, or what shall I be?
I was nought, am nought; and, for ought I do,
Shall be farre worse then nought! ô wretched me!
why? was I borne for nought; and worser too?

This makes me to deplore my Day of Birth;
(sith I was borne to so hard exigent)
As all men doe, that doe enioy the Earth;
yet, so enioy it, as th'are ne'er content.

We hold that Infant but a Prodigie
that in his Birth doth not the World salute
With note of Present-future misery:
for, that's his Birth-right cleare and absolute.

In Sinne Originall was I conceiu'd;
in actuall Sinne I liue; and I may taste

Eternall paine for that I first receiu'd;
with that I liue in now; and that is past.

I, in the Wombe was loathsome; in the World,
a Sacke of all Corruption; in the Graue,
A Prey of Vermine; and may thence be hurl'd
to Hell: if what Sinne spoyles, Grace doe not saue.

When I was nothing, then was I without
Hope to be sau'd, or Feare condemn'd to be:
Now, of the first I hope; but, more doe doubt:
and, of the last stand still in ieopardie.

I was such, as I could not then be damn'd;
but, now am such, as hardly can be sau'd:
For at the first I was in cleannesse fram'd;
but now by me its more then most deprau'd.

Erect (deare Lord) my pristrine Puritie;
correct my present Vices; and direct
My future steps: direct them Sinne to flye,
and, to attaine the Grace of thine Elect:
So shall I praise thy Name (with them) and say:
Blessed be HIM that so inspir'd my Clay.

[88]

That our Saluation comes from God.

Lord, thou hast said, thou mad'st not death; thē let
that which thou mad'st not, neuer signiorize
O'er me that thou hast made: but Watches set
to keepe death from me, when from Death I rise.

If thou be sory for my Death; then who
shall let thy Ioy in giuing life to me,
If thou wilt, thou canst saue me: I not so;
I can but dye, vnlesse I liue by Thee:

For, I can will, but can performe no good;
nor yet will good, without my Will thou moue.
In thy good-will then, lies my liuelihood;
and yet thou bidst me labour for thy Loue!

But, Lord, I cannot, if thou help me not;
that's make me willing, and worke with me too:
Nor can I moue a Man, but I must blot
without thee; so, my Pow'r's but to vndoe.

For, I would, sometimes, that I can; but then
I know not what I can or would; vnlesse
Thou make me see (beyond my Natures ken)
what I should doe, and it, in deede, expresse.

And if I should haue, with my Pow'r and Will,
Knowledge to guide me; yet, if that be mine,
(Without thy Wisedome) It will wander still;
for, all that tread true Steps, must tread in thine:
Then (ô deare Lord) doe all for me; yet so,
As I may rest with thee, and with thee goe.

A serious Meditation of the last Iudgement: worthy to be often minded, and repeated.

Dread Lord, by whom all Soules are sentenced,
when I bethinke me of that dreadfull Day,
Wherein thou com'st to iudge the Quicke and Dead,
I faint, as falling quite, with Feare, away.

When all this All shall be reuerst, and made
a Chaos suncke in all-deuouring Flames:
For, Vengeance shall the Vniuerse inuade;
and, change her Fabrickes though they keepe their Names:

A chill-cold Bloud (still flowing from Dismay)
fleets throgh my veines, when throgh my brains doth glide
But eu'n the naked thought of that blacke Day,
wherein all Flesh shall be most strictly tride.

When Christ vpon a Throne of Sunnes and Starres,
reflecting Beames against each other so,

[89]

As Glory with her selfe shall seeme at Warres,
shall doome all Flesh to endlesse weale or woe.

For, he shall shake the Sanctuaries of Heau'n;
and, with the Shocke, appeare with flames of fire,
And Millions of his Angels, to make eu'n
with good and bad; in fauour, or in ire.

Aray'd with all Eye-blinding Maiestie,
infernall Angels (his dread Throne beneath)
Wayting, with ougly Formes, and hedious Cry,
to execute his Doome of second Death.

Where Hell still gapeth (greedy) to receiue
condemned Caitifes into quenchlesse fire,
Without light flaming, onely but to grieue;
and grieue, but to torment, not life expire.

All on a floud of Fire shall (sinking) floate
to clense them from corruption: n'erthelesse
The most corrupt, though scowr'd, without the Boate
of Diuine safety, sincke in deep'st distresse.

As high as Water in the Floud did rise,
so high, nay, higher shall this Fire ascend:
For, it shall scowre the Planets and the Skies;
for, new must Heau'n and Earth be, in the end.

Riuers, shall partch; Founts, faile; and Mountaines fade;
not that their proper substances shall cease;

But all the Vniuerse shall then be made
most pure, to last, eternally, in peace.

The Sea, shall boile, and all her scaly Hoast
therem shall seath; and floate vpon her froth;
The Earth vnto this Sodde, shall be the Roast;
and Skie and Aire shall haste, and burne them both.

Then shall the Heau'ns bright Studs, the golden Stars,
drop from their Spheares; and showre downe thicke as Haile
With flames inuolu'd, like firie Meteors;
for, then shall fire gainst Heau'n and Earth preuaile.

The Sunne and Moone to Bloud (ô wonder) growne
boyling and broiling twixt sulphurious Wings,
Shal through the glowing aire come whizzing down
like to a fire-wing'd Ball that, flying, sings.

The names of Heau'n and Earth shall yet abide
after their Conflagration; but, they shall
Be chang'd in Qualities, and purifide;
for, both shall be much more Celestiall.

For, loe, the Iudge shall come with flames of fire
in Chariots like a Whirlewinde, and shall burne
On eu'ry side, till all things doe retire
into themselues, and clense them in the turne!

Our Sinnes haue so the Elements defil'd
that they with Fire must needes refined be:

[90]

Nay, more; our sins the Heau'ns themselues haue soild;
then melt they must, from soile to set them free.

Sinne all things subiect made to vanitie;
then must they be dissolu'd, sith in that veyne
They vnrefin'd (that's, most vnpure) doe lye,
that so they may their first pure plight obteine.

For, if the Heau'ns, sinne soiled, must not stand,
much lesse must Man, whom filth doth ouer-flow;
Both must be purg'd before the Iudgement; and
immortall made, to come to Iudgement so.

The Subiects of the High'st are Saints (at least)
if so: then Men vnsanctifide are none:
Then must a Man, in shew; in deede, a Beast,
be made a perfect Man, ere he be one.

The Citizens of Heau'n are (like the Place)
as pure as pretious: for, what enters there
Must be as full of Glory, as of Grace,
else downe it must, with shame, another where.

Then, in this life, how ought we minde our ends,
sith on this life (that's counted but a spanne,)
Eternitie of weale or woe depends,
which ends the Race that formerly we ranne.

One Age doth goe, another comes; and both
Time of their time, at vnawares depriues;

Man's but a Shade, a Vapor, or a Moth,
that straight consumes the Time wherein he liues.

Too like a Torch, whose light and lasting both
answeres his Substance; and the long'st can last,
But while the last drop of his moisture doth
the least sparke of his glory ouercast.

Flesh is but dust, made durt, with bloud transfus'd;
which with a fillop, or lesse force is spoil'd:
And, in the Elements be'ing eft diffus'd,
lies there, like something, next to nothing, soil'd.

The World (like Ice) is slippry, brittle, cold;
and, apt to melt, and quickly shift his Formes;
They stand still falling whom he doth vphold;
and who goes carelesse, curelesse he enormes.

What ere it holds is past; and, that's past cure:
or Present; and, that momentarie is:
Or else it is to come; and, that's vnsure:
then all it holds are nought but falacies.

Yet here (ô griefe) fond Man seekes sure repose;
eu'n here where Nothing rests but in vnrest:
Where most men stand by others ouerthrowes;
and where the worst in life, in state are best.

Where Pleasure paine fore-runs; where life's the brooke
that glides into Lifes Sea, all-swallowing DEATH:

[91]

(Sweete Streames to bitter) where Hels mortall hooke
lies hid to hold, or draw vs vnderneath.

Like Herods glory that's deuour'd of Wormes;
(our constantest companions in the end)
Wher all the smoothest Calmes proue roughest storms,
and all in all to wracke, vnwares, doe bend.

Where Princes Palaces (the prid of Cost)
are but rude Earth, which skill vnperfect formes:
Their Gold but worst Earths Marrow, at the most;
and, all their daintiest Silkes but doung of Wormes.

Riches, but Runnawayes; Fauours, but lyes;
good words, meere winde, that lightly comes & goes:
Where Generation to Corruption hyes;
and all is but a dreame of nought but showes.

Such as the end is, such must be the meane
that tends thereto; Corruption is our end:
Then, all that leades thereto, is most vncleane:
so, in vncleannesse rise we, and descend.

This makes the Heau'ns so oft to drowne in Teares
the Earth, defil'd by our vncleannesse; and
So drown'd, as dead, she beares but dearest yeeres,
or Eares that are as deare as is the Land.

So, with remorse, reuenge to execute;
so, stroke and strike at once; to make vs feele.

Our dissolution, sith so dissolute,
in loue and ire, that stayes and makes to reele.

While our Lifes Twine vpon the heau'nly Spheares
is reel'd vp straite; & Time (whose turnes they cause)
Doth all o'erturne: so, Water all appeares,
which Time to cast downe quickly, still vp-drawes.

Time steales away, as he would giue the slip
to all that breathe; yet, in so stealing, he
Takes all things with him (like a fraughted Shippe)
that he doth hold, when he doth (fearelesse) flee.

Vpon the World he steales, and, with him brings
a world of yeeres, wherewith the World doth weare;
As Men can witnesse, and all earthly Things:
for, now they be but moates to what they were.

Those she produc'd when she was in her youth,
were Ceders to these shrubs: for, she was then
In her full vigour; and gaue greater growth
to all she bare; for, Giants were her Men.

None otherwise then as a Wife in yeeres,
beares none so goodly Children as in youth;
No more this World (now ouer-aged) beares
such as in youth she did, for Grace nor growth.

She Giants brought in youth; but now she ages
she beares but Pigmies, men that scarse appeare;

[92]

Too little to be Pages to their Pages
that first she bare; which shewes her end is neere.

And so say all that strictly doe obserue
Diuine and Humane Writings, and the State
Of all things past and present; which doe serue
for signes and demonstrations of her date.

Within sixe dayes God made the Vniuerse
a thousand yeeres with whom is but a day:
Then it is thought such sixe dayes shall reuerse
his sixe dayes Worke, that moues but, so, to stay.

But, for th'Elect, the foot of this Account
shall be cut off; then, now the end appeares:
For, all the passed yeeres doe neere amount
to those sixe dayes, that make so many yeeres.

The Worlds Parts are decaid (as doth appeare)
Etna, Parnassus and Olympus too
Are not so eminent as erst they were;
and all that's done, seemes quite now to vndoe.

Now swels the Sea, where erst faire Cities stood;
so, where Men walkt, now huge Sea-monsters swim:
And, where the Earth was couer'd with her Floud,
now Citties stand, vnneere the Oceans Brim.

Hils suncke, Flouds dride, the Planets lose their force,
and Plants their vertue; yea, the totall Frame

Of Nature's out of frame: the Sunne in's course
is out of course, with age suncke in the same:

For, since the dayes of Ptolomey it's found
many degrees more nigh the Earth he stoupes:
So, like an aged Drunkard, runneth round,
till flat he fall: for, more and more he droupes.

The Articke and th' Antarticke Poles shall wracke
the Climes they couer: and the Hoast of Heau'n
Shall ioyne their Forces to breake Natures Backe;
and, all confuse to which was Order giu'n.

Th' Astrologers will haue it end, when all
the Starres possesse their first place in their Spheares,
Which Platos yeere they stile: the Hebrew Caball
will haue it but endure sixe thousand yeeres.

Whereto agree Elias Oracles
and many a sacred Saints, of times more late:
Which Seers saw them through the Spectacles
of Heau'n-holpe Ghesses, cleare as most elate!

The World shall last (say they) two thousand yeeres
without the Law: two thousand yeeres within:
Two thousand vnder Grace: and then appeares
the God of Grace, to cleare the World of Sinne.

Then thou that sleep'st (my drowsie Soule) awake;
pray, and be sober; watch, the end is neere:

[93]

Sinnes fruit full ripe, the Kirnels ne'er so black,
and Iustice Sunne beginnes eu'n hot t'appeare.

That there shall be a Iudgement generall
the most beleeue; heau'ns Oracles affirme;
Diuines auerre; the Sybils too; and all
the ancient Poets constantly confirme.

Then shall the Creatures showt, the Angels call,
the Trumpets sound, and all Men, dead, arise:
Then shall the God of IVSTICE sentence all;
yea, be they Pow'rs or Principalities!

This Sentence shall be strict, and shall condemne
the Ill to Hell, where Paine, it selfe, exceedes.
(For, when it meanest is, it's most extreame)
and where the Worme that gnawes the Conscience breedes.

And all, for euer! Euer! that is it,
that makes All most intollerable: for,
It Sense confounds, with griefe; distracts the Wit;
and which selfe-Patience cannot but abhorre.

Which to the Atheist seemes impossible,
that Bodyes so infirme, so soone destroid,
Should euer brooke such Paines immensible,
and not consume; yea, vtterly made voide.

Whereto if it be said, th' Almighty will
at last, raise bodyes from defect so cleare

That (cleared so) they shall continue still;
and all Hels wasting woes, vnworne, shall beare!

Yea, Soules (though incorporeall) shall, the while,
of true materiall Fire be pained still;
How ere it makes our Humane Reason reele,
yet he can doo't, that can doe what he will.

For, they shall deeme they in their Bodies be;
and feele all Torments comprehensible:
For, Soules then Bodies better feele and see
sith by them onely, Flesh is sensible.

As when we dreame, without out Bodies we;
deeme vs within; sith Sense vs not forsakes:
Nay, without Eares and Eyes we heare and see,
more liuely farre, then when our Sense awakes:

So, doe the damn'd suppose they in their Flesh
doe suffer; that but suffer in their Spirit,
Sith Sense in them so liuely is, and fresh,
in entertaining Dolor or Delight.

Which in the Fount of Truth doth cleare appeare:
for, Diues had a Tongue that was enflam'd
As he suppos'd; though but his Soule it were:
but Atheists will not know this till th'are damn'd.

For, they except against Diuinitie,
Religion, Faith; and onely doe appeale

[94]

To Reason, Sense, and fraile Humanitie,
which ne'erthelesse this veiled Truth reueale.

For proofe whereof; the Salamander lyes
and liues in fire, which he desires to touch;
Yea, most is ioyde when most therein he fries;
for, hee's most cold, and cooles the fire as much.

The Adamant; yea, Gold it selfe, if pure,
endures all force of fire, and ne'er doth waste:
Shall Stones and Mettals then, the Fire endure,
and shall mans flesh refinde, in Fire, not last?

A Peacockes flesh, though dead, corrupteth neuer;
(try it who list) and shall it still remaine,
And Mans flesh, made by Death to last for euer,
not last? it shall, though it still liue in paine!

Lime in it selfe hath fire; yet weares it not:
and when it's kill'd, it's quickned; then, shall we
Say Flesh reuiu'd must waste, if still too hot,
when Death, as from his death, from it doth flee?

By Water that doth coole all other Heates,
the Lime is fir'd; but poure some Oyle thereon,
(Though Oyle feedes fire) it neyther burnes, nor sweates,
but rests as cold as any other Stone!

If then the nature of quicke-Lime be such
as Fire to hold, and yet not dye with it;

Why should not flesh immortall, doe as much,
when it's enabled by Pow'r infinite?

Some Salt in Sicily, cast in the fire,
straight melts to Water; and, in Water throwne,
Crackes like Fire: ô! who can then aspire
to know the Cause, that yet was neuer knowne?

Th' Arcadian Asbest, being once enflam'd,
will ne'er be quencht: but, lasts an endlesse flame:
Then why not those that endlesly are damn'd,
being made immortall to endure the same?

And in Epyrus is a Fount, wherein
a Torch may lighted be, and quenched too:
If these things are, and more, more strange haue bin,
why should we thinke but God can stranger doe?

Before Mans fall, he could not dye; for, Death
came by his Fall: Then, cannot that high Pow'r
That fashion'd him of nought, and gaue him Breath,
make him, re-made, eternally endure?

The Wonders which he workes continually,
are not admir'd, sith they familiar be:
For, Admiration's dull'd by frequencie;
else should we wonder at what still we see.

The Face of mankinde wer't not vniforme,
men could not be from beasts discern'd and showne:

[95]

And yet had All, in all respects, one Forme
One from another hardly could be knowne.

Thus, Likenesse with great Difference rests we see;
in one selfe Thing; which for such common are
We ne'er admire them; but we muse when we
see but two Faces like: for, that is rare!

And at the Load-stone we doe wonder lesse,
that naile by naile, doth many nailes vphold,
By touching but the first; yet sith it is
so common, we admire not; as we should.

I might be endlesse in recounting such
most strange Effects, whereof no Cause is knowne:
Then were it madnesse not to grant as much
Pow'r to th' Almightie, and to Natures Crowne.

No: he hath said It, by whose onely WORD
all is that is: and All hath made of nought:
Whose Power is Infinite; which can accord
Repugnancies themselues, but with a Thought!

For, there is nothing that doth argue Pow'r,
but he can doe it: what he cannot doe
Is fraile, inglorious, base, and most impure;
else can he doe it, and vndoe it too!

If Gods Prerogatiue were crusht so close
that he no more then Man had pow'r t'effect;

How were he God? nay, God himselfe he showes
in that his Workes farre passe our Intellect!

Then, let's beleeue, Omnipotence can speake
no Word it cannot doe; how e'er to vs
It seemes impossible: for, we are weake,
and weakly iudge of hard things to discusse.

But, let vs rest on that ne'er-failing WORD,
nay, so put vp our Rest that eu'n our Soules
Yea, all our All may thereby be assur'd,
in so faire Hazard that no Chance controules.

For, should we rest but on those restlesse Stayes
that Reason (betraid by sense) erects, we shall
But rest on that's betrayed, and betrayes:
so, in right sense and Reason, needes must fall.

But say there were no rising after Death:
by vertuous life, what doe or can we lose,
But spend our Time in gaining longer breath:
for, Vertue (Lifes foes) Passions doth repose?

And if there were no Hell to punish sinne,
yet we, in Reason, should not sinne; sith it
Is so obsceane; and thereby nought we winne
but selfe-condemning of our Will and Wit.

But we that doe beleeue we eft shall rise,
haue great aduantage of the rest: for we

[96]

Haue what they haue (though fewer vanities)
and, by our faith, in case farre better be.

For, if there be another Life than this,
wherein all weale or woe we must sustaine;
Then, by Good workes, and Faith, we shall haue blisse:
but faithlesse men all labour for their paine.

For, impious Atheists take more paines for Hell,
tiring themselues with ioyes that vexe their Sp'rits,
Then pious men, still praying in their Cell,
doe take for Heau'n; for, That the Sp'rit delights.

Deare Lord, then so dispose my Wit and Will
that I may rest vpon thy Word, which makes
Me blest; and worke, in rest, thereafter still
with more delight then Sense in pleasure takes.

In sacred Raptures take my Soule to thee;
and, her embrace with kisse of endlesse Peace:
That being so familiar still with mee,
I, at thy Doome, may hopefull be through these.

That though the horror of that day be such
as may all Sense confound with feare, past feare;
Yet may I hope (though yet I feare too much)
thou wilt not damne him whō thou heldst so dear.

Meane while, so binde my Sense with vertues bands,
that it may neuer moue, but as she shall

Loose or restraine it; or, thy sacred Hands;
all whose restraints are free from paine, or fall!

And let that Trump (as with a Saint it did)
still in the Organ of my hearing sound
That shall to Iudgement call both quicke and dead;
that so I euer may be ready found.

For, yet I doe but doate on false Delights,
Delights? alas! that stile they ill sustaine,
Though false be added: for, they vexe the Sp'rits
of all that taste them: so they are but paine.

Vncharme the Charmes then, of these grieuous ioyes,
that still allure my sense of them to taste;
And let my pleasure be in all annoyes,
for, thy deare Loue, vntill I breath my last.

For, were I here to liue as many a yeere,
as yeeres haue moments in extreame annoy;
Yet it vnworthy of Heau'ns glory were,
sith it is infinite in time, and ioy.

But now, by Nature (though it should extend
my life beyond my life) I cannot last,
Longer then one that's making now his end:
for, my best part of life, long since, is past.

My best (said I) ô sname! if so it were,
I should dispaire; or, if I did not so,

[97]

I should be franticke with distracting feare,
that my best time in madnesse did bestow.

But Thou that of the worst canst make the best,
make this my worst time best; my later Age
Make better then my first: for, I detest
to thinke on That so fond, so full of rage.

Let me relapse no more, in word, nor deede,
Relapses more doe vexe me then my sinne:
And yet my sinnes still make my Conscience bleede:
but my Relapses ranckle still therein.

Relaps in sicknesse, fleshes death doth threat;
Relaps in Heresie, the death of Sp'rit;
In Error, it makes falshood hugely great;
and so in sinne it makes it infinite!

In Grace (sweet Sauiour) there is neuer stay,
a Progresse or a Regresse still there is:
But from a Regresse let me euer stray,
although thereby I goe about to blisse.

What bootes it me to day to fight with sinnes,
if I to morrow follow Sathans Flagge?
It is th'vnwearied fighter glory winnes;
the weary, but base Baggage and the Bagge.

Then let the dreadfull day of mine Accounts
be so annext vnto my Heart and Braine,

As if they were one Essence, and the founts
of teares (mine Eyes) still farre out-flow the Maine!

And fixe mine Eyes still on my Mother Earth,
to minde from whence I came, and where I must.
Or else on Heau'n (from whence my Soule had birth)
but looke on no meane Things for them to lust,

Although such Continence be not without
their outward spight, that Vertue inly Hate:
For, when we first, to liue well, goe about,
w'are crost and recrost by the Reprobate.

As thy deare Seruant (walking on the Maine,
vpon thy bidding) fainted (when he saw
A sodaine Gust make rough th'Oceans Plaine)
inuokt thy help, neare sincking through that Flaw.

So, in this World, a Sea of woes and spight,
thou bidst vs come to thee; but as wee hie,
Huge Stormes of troubles threat to sinke vs quite;
then helpewe craue, with feare, at point to dye.

Yet Constant Lord, let me no more relapse,
no more, no more, once more would kill me quite;
Rather then so, let thy fierce Thunder-claps
dash me to dust, so thou receiue my sp'rit:
But let my sp'rit how e'er I dye (deare Lord)
Wade through thy deepest Iudgements on thy Word.

[98]

The Sinner acknowledges and admires his owne frailtie: desiring Grace and strength to stand in Vertue, and with-stand Vice.

Affliction still lyes heauie on my Soule,
which makes her stupid, dry, and dull to pray;
Then (Lord) vnlesse thou doe her pow'r controule,
she needes must sinke to Hell beneath her sway.

O Sinne (that with high Hand dost hurle so low)
thou art sole Cause of this so bad Effect:
Thou NOTHING, that dost all things ouerthrow
not staid by Grace, why dost me thus deiect?

O had I beene abortiue, and dead borne;
or, if not so, the Font had reft my breath:
Then had I made a quicke and safe returne,
that now must passe in perill to my death!

I can but sinne, then Iustice can but scourge;
so, Sinne and Scourges, wheeling, o'er me goe:
Yea, Sinne being quiet, I it oft doe vrge;
so, on me, with it, pull a World of woe.

Lord! what am I, that am so rarely fraile?
that can doe nothing: that is, sinne I can:

For, Sinne is Nothing; yet, it doth preuaile
against me, Something: that is, marres a Man!

When I doe minde the strange Austeritie,
familiar with some (reclus'd from this life)
The watching, praying, fasting, charitie,
the fights with Flesh, with Sinne, the endlesse strife,

I am amaz'd with wonder; grieu'd with shame;
nay, waighing theirs with mine, my conscience bleeds
To see the ods: ô fie, I am to blame,
to call it ods, sith it all ods exceedes!

For white and blacke doe farre lesse disagree
then theirs and mine: mine being, lighty, darke;
Theirs, darkly, light; and lights the darke to see:
notorious I, for sinne; they, Saints of marke.

So that I am confounded but to minde
the ods (surmounting ods) betweene the two:
For, in my selfe, with Pride, all ill I finde;
in them all good, and yet most humble too.

Then, sith Comparisons are but too blame
betweene things so repugnant (for, they doe
But shew the ods vnto the worsers shame)
I will forbeare, and beare the blemish too.

For, all reproch (though infinite it were)
comes short of endlesse sinne, in foule offence:

[99]

Then, may I well that All (as nothing) beare,
which Centers but my sinnes Circumference!

For, weake as frailtie is my strongest force
in fight with vices, and in ghostly warres:
At best no better then a liuing Corse;
and that the Vrne that but my Soule inte rres!

I fight, but faint, the first Incounter trying;
yet, oft by standing on my strength too much
I quite am foil'd, that might haue foil'd by flying;
such is my rashnesse, and my weakenesse such.

If I o'er come, (as seldome so I doe)
my spirit growes proud, and confident withall:
So this farre worse then that doth me vndoe;
for spirituall pride still takes the lowest fall.

But, when I fall, thy help (Lord) I inuoke,
to raise me: rais'd, I fall to worser ill:
So seeme but leaue to craue, (though it I cloke)
but still to fall, and to be raised still.

But to thee (knower of all thoughts) it's knowne
such Boones are sinnes that beg but leaue to sinne:
My Boones no better be; for, being downe,
I craue to rise by Grace, to fall therein.

And though my Prayers aime at no such end,
yet, in the end (sith I but rise and fall)

100

It seemes I did but by the same entend
to make my selfe thy Mercies Racket-ball.

Which falling hardest, highest doth rebound;
but, to doe ill, that good thereof might rise,
Is Ill, so ill, as may the Soule confound;
then, all that good in Soule-confounding, lies.

To sinne of purpose, but to make vs meeke,
augments the fault; for, tis presumptuous Sinne:
And who, by Error, Heau'nly Truth shall seeke,
shall lose her quite, and Hell, with Error, winne.

Then, Lord of Truth, when I haue tane a fall,
let me desire to rise, to fall no more:
So though thou bandy me from wall to wall,
yet, keepe me vp, at least, with beating sore.

And, if, by weakenesse, I shall sometimes slippe,
so stay me then, that downe I fall not quite:
Let me, at most (if so at least) but trippe;
then, take the faster footing through thy might.
So shall I praise that Pow'r that stayes me so;
And, euer ouercome an Ouerthrow.

[100]

THE DOLEFVLL DOVE: OR, Dauids 7. Penitentiall Psalmes; somewhere paraphrastically turned into Uerse.

Domine ne in furore.

Psal. 6.

When Dauid by his sinnes had prouoked Gods wrath; and now felt, not onely his hand against him, but also conceiueth the horrors of death euerlasting, he desireth fornesse, bewailing that if God tooke him away in his indignation, he shall lacke occasion to praise him as hee was wont to doe, while she was among men. Then, sodainely feeling Gods mercie, he sharply rebuketh his enemies, which reioyced in his affliction.

In thy iust rage (deare Lord) reproue me not:
(for, iust it is, sith so vniust I am)
Nor chasten me when thy fierce Wrath is hot,
lest I should be extinguisht yer the Flame.

101

Let thy strong Grace againt my Weaknesse stand;
(thy Grace so strong, as it vpholdeth All)
And heale me (Lord) with thine all-helping Hand:
for, eu'n my bones are bruised with my fall.

My Soule's afflicted more then griefes afflict:
(for griefes but pine; but this doth quite vndoe)
Then Lord, how long shall I (a poore Relict)
endure these plagues, that paine and pine me too?

O turne thy now auerted Face, to mee
(to me that fades as flowres for want of Sunne)
And let my Soule be safe, and sau'd by thee,
through Grace, that hath to thee most glory wonne:

For Deaths fell torments are so violent,
that they constraine the Sense to minde but them:
Who then in Hell, through hellish discontent,
can once but minde thee, in such paines extreame?

My sorrow hath my Soule so ouer-fed,
that it conuerts mine Eyes to founts of Teares:
For, eu'ry night in teares I rince my Bed,
and drowne my Couch in streames of griefes & feares.

Mine Eyes are so o'ercast with clouds of Cares,
that they see nought, but through those Water-streames:
My beauty's gone, while I away do weare,
among my Foes, and these confus'd extreames.

[101]

But yet I feele thy Grace (Lord) worke with me:
then leaue me, leaue me, yee too idle Crue,
That yet still worke, but worke iniquitie;
for, God hath seene my Teares, and heard me rue.

You are my Foes, that (yet) would seeme my friends;
but Foe-like friends, and all mine enemies
God will cut off by diuers fearefull ends;
and soone confound you, and your Trecheries.

To God the Father, Sonne, and Holy Ghost,
three Persons, and one God; all glory be;
As it was, is, and shall be in each Coast,
thoughout all worlds in all eternitie.

Beati quorum.

Psal. 32.

Dauid punished with grieuous sicknesse for his sins, counteth them blessed, to whom God doth not impute their transgressions. And, after that he had confessed his sins and obtained pardon, he exhorteth the wicked men to liue godly; and the good to reioyce.

Most blest are they (how euer curst they be)
whose Crimes out of Gods Note-Booke cleane are crost;
Whose sins are couer'd so with Clemencie,
that they are hid; so, seeme they to be lost.

102

And blest is he to whom the God of Grace
imputes no Sinne; (for, so he shall be cleare
How e'er defil'd) and in whose sp'rit no base
deceit, shall once so much as but appeare.

For, while I held my peace (that caus'd my Warre;
for Death with Silence in such passion striues)
My bodies Props (my Bones) consumed are
while all the day I grone in Sorrowes Giues.

For, day and night thy Hand (great God) doth lye
like Lead vpon my weaknesse: who haue bin
Conuerted into selfe-Calamitie,
whiles the Thorne prickt me (or, my stinging sin)

But, lo, my faults to thee I haue reueal'd,
& haue not clockt my crimes, which thou dost hide:
But I confesse those Sinnes, thou hast conceal'd
sith my misdeedes shall (so) be iustifide.

Thus shall each pious person pray to thee
in fitting time (yer Mercies Gate be sparr'd)
But when the Inundations swelling be
of many Waters they from Him are barr'd.

My fence (ô Lord) lies onely in thy Hands,
when troubles me assaile with fiercest woe:
Then ô preserue me from the impious Bands
that me inclose, in death to close me so.

[102]

I will saist thou (deare Sweete) instruct thee still,
and guide thee in thy way (ô honied Words)
Thine Eye (thou saist) shall me defend from ill,
and watch to guard me from my foe-mens Swords.

Then be, ô be not like an Horse or Mule,
that are as rude as vnintelligent:
Lord, bridle them, thy Snafle will not rule,
till they be rul'd, or else be made repent.

The Plagues are great (most great) and manifold,
that doe the Sinner euermore attend;
But who with Hands o Hope on God layes hold,
his boundlesse Mercy him will comprehend.

In Him therefore (yee Righteous) still be glad;
(for, he in Griefe still glads the righteous Soule)
Exult all ye, that for your Sinnes are sad;
and all true Hearts, that stoupe to his controule.

To God the Father glory be therefore,
and to the Sonne, and their coequall Spirit,
As it was, is, and shall be euermore
World without end: for, they are infinite!

103

Domine ne in furore.

Psal. 38.

Dauid lying sicke of some grieuous disease; acknowledgeth himselfe to be chastised of God for his sinnes, and therefore prayeth God to turne away his wrath. He vttereth the greatnesse of his griefes by many words and circumstances: as, wounded with the arrowes of Gods ire, forsaken of his friends, euill intreated of his enemies. But in the end, with firme confidence he commendeth his cause to God, and hopeth for speedy help at his hand.

Lord checke me not, vntill thy rage be past,
nor chastise me in thine incens'd ire;
For, in my Flesh thy Shafts are fixed fast;
and thy Hand quels me, that would faine a pire.

Thy Wrath hath fill'd my Flesh with all annoy,
(for, Sinne's the sore; the salue, sore-sicknesse is:)
And, in my bones I can no rest enioy,
because their Marrow them hath mou'd amisse.

For mine ambitious Sinnes climbe o'er my Head,
and, as a breake-necke Burden, me oppresse:
My wounds (which they haue made) with filth are fed,
and ranckled sore, through my worse foolishnesse.

I am made crooked vnderneath this loade,
deform'd, and wretched; yea, it breakes my backe:

[103]

So, all the day with griefe I make aboad,
or mourning goe, as those that comfort lacke.

For, (ah) my loynes, that lodg'd but Sinne before,
now harbour nought but restlesse Malady:
No health is in my flesh; for, all is sore:
so sore that anguish makes me (roaring) cry.

But, Lord, thou know'st the Summe of my desires,
because my Plaints still tell it in thine eares;
My Heart is vext, my strength from me retires;
nay, more, mine Eyes are blinded with my teares.

My friends (in shew, when thou didst fauour me)
like foes (in deed) now me (poore me) withstand:
Nay, those, in bloud that were my neerest, be
now furthest off; and lend nor heart nor hand.

And they that seeke my life, lay Traps to take
that life; or (at the least) me to vndoe:
And but of guile and spoile they euer speake;
and put in practise what they speake of too.

But I (poore I) as deafe, would nothing heare:
(for poore Soules must not hear what must offend)
And, as one dumbe, I still my selfe did beare,
that gaue no more reproofes then eare did lend.

Yet is my hope in thee that hearest all
my sighes and grones, sith they increase for Sinne.

104

Then let mine Enemies ne'er see my fall;
who, when I doe but trip, triumph therein.

I am at point to perish; and my Woes
and cause thereof, I euer beare in minde:
For, I, with griefe, confesse mine ouerthrowes,
that lost thy Grace, which now I seeke to finde,

But, still my Foes doe liue, and strong are made,
strong in their friends, their places, purse and armes,
And they that hate me (causelesse) and inuade
me (forcelesse) many be; the more my harmes.

They (monsters) likewise, that doe ill for good
oppose me still, sith goodnesse I ensue:
Then, haste thee (Lord) to help me (so withstood)
and leaue me not among this cursed crue.

To God the Father (which we doe adore)
and to the Sonne, and to their blessed Spirit,
All glory be, as it was heretofore,
is and still shall be through Worlds infinite.

[104]

Miserere mei Deus.

Psal. 51.

When Dauid was rebuked by the Prophet Nathan for his great offences, he did not onely acknowledge the same to God, with protestation of his naturall corruption and iniquitie, but also left a memoriall thereof to his posteritie Therefore first he desireth God to forgiue his sinnes, and to renue in him his holy Spirit; with promise that he will not be vnmindfull of those great graces. Finally, fearing left God would punish the whole Church for his fault, he requireth that hee would rather increase his graces toward the same.

Great God of Gods (whose Mercy is as great)
haue mercy on me (wretch) whose Sin exceeds;
Yet after thy compassion so compleate,
wash out the blots of my too foule misdeedes.

O clense me from the filth of mine offence,
that ranckles in my Conscience, all defilde
With all that may depraue both Soule and Sense;
that (purg'd) I may to thee be reconcil'd:

For, I acknowledge mine iniquitie,
sith still my Sinne's the obiect of my sight;
And, by the pow'r of mine impiety,
I wrong thy grace and still impugne thy Sp'rit.

105

Against thee onely I in sinne abide,
and done what doth condemne me in thy sight;
That in thy Words thou maist be iustifide,
and ouercome when thou art iudg'd vnright.

For, nought but wickednesse prepar'd the way
to my conception; which to worse did passe:
Then, ere I was, I stood at sinfull stay;
and, when I fell to Being, worser was.

This (Lord) is true; confessing which, doth moue
thy Grace to me thy Wisedome (hid) to show:
Then sprinckle me with Isop, in thy Loue;
and so, I shall be whiter farre; than Snow.

Vnto mine Eares (invred but to heare
what Eares corrupts) thou shalt but Ioy obiect:
So shall the bones, which by thee broken were,
reioyce; and, sinne, wherein it ioy'd, reiect.

O then from my foule sinnes thy Face auert;
and wash me from the filth they cast on me;
In me create an vndefiled Heart,
with such a spirit as may be iust to thee.

And cast me not, ô cast me not away
out of the Way still brightned by thy beames;
Nor, from me take thy Spirit, my Guide and Stay,
in hardest passages of all Extreames.

[105]

Restore to me the gladnesse of thy blisse;
and, with thy chiefest Spirit, still strengthen me;
Then those Ile teach that now thy wayes doe misse:
so, Sinners shall conuerted be to thee.

Saue me from bloud, that vengeance doth implore;
so shall my Tongue thy Iustice highly raise:
But more thy Mercy, sith it glads me more.
Then, ope my Lips, and they shall shew thy praise.

Had'st thou desired Sacrifice, I had
offer'd it to thee; but, thou tak'st delight
In no burnt Offrings; but, art euer glad
to take the Offer of a contrite Spirit.

A Broken Heart, with sorrow but for Sinne,
thou wilt, nor canst thou, for thy Word, despise;
Then, let mine, broken so, thy Mercy win;
and, from it still auert thine Angers Eyes.

With Sion, ô deale gently; that the Wals
of raz'd Ierusalem rebuilt may be;
And still withstand Hels fiery darts, and Bals,
to keepe thy Foes out, onely but for thee.

Then shalt thou take the Sacrifice in gree,
of Iustice in thy Mercy; then, shall they
Offer Oblations still in flames to thee;
and Calues vpon thine holy Alter lay.

106

To God the Father, praise and glory be;
and to the Sonne, and to their blessed Sp'rit;
(A Trinitie in strictest Vnitie)
as it was, is, and shall be infinite.

Domine exaudi.

Psal. 102.

It seemeth that this Prayer was appointed to the faithfull to pray in the Captiuitie of Babilon. A Consolation for the building of the Church: whereof followeth the praise of God to be published vnto all Posteritie. The Conuersion of the Gentiles: and, the stabilitie of the Church.

Attend my Prayer (Lord) and let my Cry
ascend to thee, from whom all grace descends:
From my distresse turne not thy Mercies Eye,
but bowe thine Eare to me, that downward bends.

When e'er I call, make answere; for, my dayes
like Vapor vanish; and, my parched bones
Waxe weake and dry, as is the flame that playes
about the Snuffe, at point to quench at ones.

Th'hast smitten me (as Grasse by Lightning smit)
so that my Heart is wither'd quite away:
And through my griefe, for that, I further it:
for, I forget to eate, for Natures stay.

[106]

And through my groning voice, my bones, that burne,
to my consuming flesh, will hardly cleaue:
And, like a Pelican alone, I mourne:
or, like an Owle I liue, while life I leaue.

I weare out Time in strictest vigilance,
and, as a Sparrow, on the Houses Crest,
I sit alone; to minde my sinnes mischance:
so (idly) resting in the most vnrest.

The while my Foes (backbiting) me reuile;
yea, he that praised me, against me sweares:
But I, as Bread, did Ashes eate the while;
and still my Drinke did mingle with my Teares.

Because thy Wrath grew hot against my sinne:
for, thou hast rais'd me vp, to cast me downe:
My dayes are past, as if they ne'er had bin;
and (like Hay wither'd) I from thee am mowne.

But thou (immortall Spirit) dost still endure;
and thy Memoriall euer lasts in prime:
Thou shalt arise, and downe thy Mercies poure
(by showers) on Sion, in this promis'd time.

For, eu'n the Stones of that faire Edifice
delight thy Seruants; and her sacred Ground
They pitty, as they doe her preiudice,
which with the sharpest griefe their hearts doth wound.

107

So shall the Heathen feare thine awfull NAME;
and, all the Kings on Earth thy glory feare:
For, Sions Fabricke thou dost still re-frame,
and in thy fullest Glory shalt appeare.

Our Lord the prayers of the meeke approues,
and not dispie their Suites, in wretched case:
So future times to write this, this doth moue,
that Babes vnborne, may praise this God of Grace.

Who, from his high as holy Place, doth vaile
his Eyes to Earth (whereon they still remaine)
To heare poore Captiues plaints, and such as waile;
and, loose the Sonnes of them (vniustly) slaine.

That they in Sion should diuulge his NAME;
and in Ierusalem his earned Praise:
Yea, in th' Assemblies celebrate the same,
when Kings consorted, sing sweet Sions Layes.

He, in the way of his great pow'r and grace,
hath answer'd them: but, shew (Lord) shew to me,
How long or short shall be my mortall Race;
that so, for thee, I still may ready be.

And take me not, ô take me not away,
(at vnawares) yer halfe my Dayes be done:
As for thy yeeres they stand still at a stay;
but mine more swift then thought away doe runne.

[107]

In the Beginning, thou the Earth didst found,
the highest Heauens thy glorious Hands did reare:
But they shall perish; thou, continue sound
while they waxe old, and like a Garment weare.

And, as a Vesture, thou shalt change their Frame,
and they shall changed be; but thou, alone
Dost still continue One, and aye the same:
whose yeeres remaine the same, and euer One!

Thy Seruants sonnes inhabit shall the Land,
their seede shall be directed in thy Wayes:
And while they walke therein, they fixt shall stand
in Heau'n and Earth to celebrate thy praise.

To God the Father then, all glory be;
t'his Sonne, and to their Spirit, which wee adore;
(Coequall in their Essence and Degree)
as it was, is, and shall be euermore.

De profundis clamaui.

Psal. 130.

The people of God, from their bottomlesse misery, doe cry vnto God, and are heard. They confesse their sins, and flye vnto Gods mercy.

From depth of Griefe (wherein my Soule doth lye)
I doe and will (deare Lord) still call on thee:

108

Then, let thine eares attend mine inward Cry,
and, listen to my Prayers, and to me.

If thou fraile Flesh wilt call to strict account,
what flesh and bloud then, in thy sight shall stand?
But Mercy is with thee, as in the Fount:
then, I expect thy Mercyes Helping-hand.

My Soule vpon the Faith, which thou hast plight,
hath euer staid; and still doth hope in thee;
Then from the Morning-watch, till that of Night,
let Israel still relie on Thee with me.

For, with this God of Glory and of Grace,
is Grace as much as Glory; and, therein
He will redeeme the sad in sinfull Case;
with his true Israel, from all their sinne.

To God the Father (which we doe adore)
and to the Sonne, and to their blessed Spirit,
All glory be, as it was heretofore,
is, and still shall be through Worlds infinite.

[108]

Domine exaudi.

Psal. 143.

An earnest Prayer for remission of sinnes, acknowledging that the enemies did thus cruelty persecute him by Gods iust iudgement. He desireth to be restored to grace. To be gouerned by his holy Spirit, that hee may spend the remnant of his life in the true feare and seruice of God.

Lord heare my pray'r with thine all-hearing ears;
and, for thy truths sake, note mine humble suite:
O heare me in thy Righteousnesse, which heares
All those that mourne, although they still be mute.

And into Iudgement enter not (O Lord)
with me, fraile man: for I, nor none beside,
(Because of sinne which we haue all incurr'd)
in thy cleare sight shall then be iustifide.

For, th'enemie (the Fiend, our common Foe)
hath long pursu'd my Soule (that flesh misse-led)
My Life in Earth, his Fury hath brought low;
and hid the same in darknesse, with the dead.

My Spirit (therefore) is vext, my Minde, and Heart
are greatly troubled; yet, I minded still
Thy dayes of old (thy Workes and thy Desert)
which did my Muse with Ioy and Wonder fill.

109

My hands to thee haue still out-stretched bin,
my Soule (that thirsts (as earth that water wants)
For drops of grace, to quench her flames of sinne)
I lift to thee, the while, for grace she pants.

Then (kindest Lord) with speede attend my cryes;
because my fainting spirit hath failed me:
Auert not from me thy conuerting Eyes,
lest I be like to those that burying be.

And in the dawning of the long'd-for Day,
(the Day when Iustice Sonne shall Comfort giue)
Let me the voyce of mercy heare, I pray;
sith still I hope that thou wilt me relieue.

And sith so many Heads, so many Wayes
are said to lead to thee, by Heads of Sects;
Shew me the Way that straight to thee conueyes,
sith my poore Soule both thee and it affects.

And from my Foes preserue me (weakling) still:
to thee alone I flye in all distresse:
Then teach me to performe thy blessed Will:
for thou art onely all my blessednesse.

Thy Spirit that cannot erre, nor yet deceiue,
shall bring me to the Land that Iustice beares:
And, for thy Names sake thou shalt me receiue,
according to thy grace (that neuer weares.)

[109]

From Trouble thou shalt bring my Soule to rest;
and, through thy Mercy shalt destroy my Foes:
Yea, all annoy that doe my Soule molest,
sith as thy Seruant, I on thee repose.

To God the Father, Sonne, and Holy Ghost,
three Persons, and one God; all glory be;
As it was, is, and shallbe in each Coast,
thoughout all worlds in all eternitie.

FINIS.

110

RIGHTS OF THE LIVING, AND THE DEAD:

Being, A proper Appendix to the precedent Meditations.

[110]

A Funerall Elegie,

on the death of the most vertuous, and no lesse louely, Mirs. Elizabeth Dutton; eldest Daughter of the Worthy, and generally beloued Sir Thomas Egerton Knight, eldest Sonne to the right Honorable, Thomas, Lord Elesmere, Lord Chancellor of England: which Elizabeth was, at the age of eleuen yeeres, married to Iohn Dutton, of the age of fifteene yeeres, Sonne and Heyre of Thomas Dutton, of Dutton, in the Countie of Chester Esquier: which Iohn, deceased about the age of seauenteene yeeres, and left the said Elizabeth a Virgin-Widow: who so liued till shee died the first of October, at the age of six-teene yeeres and a halfe, in Anno 1611.

111

A Virgin, Wife, and Widow, three that One
Held rarely perfect in like Vnion,
Incites my Muse; nay, more, doth her cōstrain
To empt my Pen of Praise, of Wit my Braine
In her deserued honor: she whose all
Was nought but good; yet so, as we may call
That good but nought (and iustly) if the same
Giue not her goodnesse glory more than fame!

A Maide, in whom Virginitie gaue place
(Though most exact) to Modestie and Grace.
A Wife (who like old Iosephs blessed Bride)
Though wedded, but vnbedded till she dide,
Yet from her came, on her by Grace begot,
Faith, Feare and Dutie, in a True-loue knot,
Till his decease, to whom these three she bare:
And after, for him, nurst them still with care.

She liu'd a Widow; but t'was hard to know
Whether she liu'd or dide when she was so:
Sith when she lost her Pheare, she lost her Breath;
For, Turtle-like, she mourn'd and droupt to death.
But while t'was losing she such Patience wanne
(By his Death mortifide) as she beganne
(Before her end) her Heau'n on Earth thereby,
In hope to liue with Him when Life should die.
So, in her Patience, she her Soule possest
Her God; in whom her Soule, with his, did rest;
Yet rested so, that still (vnseene) she mou'd
to both deuoutly, whom so much she lou'd!

Poets can shape of things that grace forsakes
Farre rarer things than grace or nature makes.

[111]

But let all Poets all their Arte vnite
To fable praise, the morall is her right.

Nature profusely had on her bestow'd
(Borrowing of grace) more grace then e'er she ow'd!
And grace (as enuying Natures Gifts, so rare)
Vnlockt the Heau'ns where all her Treasures are,
And showr'd them downe so on this deerest Maide,
As she for worth, an Angell should haue waide.

Wit for her worth can ne'er hiperbolize;
Much lesse a Poet in it Poetize;
Sith what or Wit or Poetry can praise
(With their best Arte) was found in her: then raise
Her vp my Muse, ere she be rais'd, at last;
And her enthrone in glory high as fast:
That when the Virgin, whom all Virgins blesse.,
Shall, for her graces, see her gloriousnesse
In Heau'n and Earth, she may (as worthy her)
Enbozome her, or fixe her in a Starre,
Whose Name and Fame while mortall Virgins liue,
To them, with hers, may Light and Vertue giue!

For this, her Soule still labour'd to be gone,
T'returne her Errand of Creation:
As fiery Matter working in a Cloud
Breakes through, for want of Matter it to shrowde:
So Soules, with stirring much, are said to fire
The best Complexions; and (so) home retire.
But, Sicknesse (ah too sweet-lipt) suckt her Bloud,
That she had none to fire in likelihood:
And so her vitall-flame, vnnourished;
Her Soule through coldnesse, left her body dead.

112

A short life made her Virgin, Widow, Wife,
But, well she liu'd, which is the Well of life.
This old World was vnworthy such a Iemme,
Therefore she shines in new Ierusalem!

I best can witnesse how her time she spent,
Who taught her hand to shew her hearts entent:
Then may I best renowne (for knowne desert)
The Pupill of my Hand that had my Heart.
Thou hadst my Heart (deare Pupill) sith in thee
Was all that might intirely master me.
And did my Pow'r but equall halfe my Will,
Laura should be thy Foile: for, I (by skill)
Would set thee so aboue her, that thy light
(With poynant Beames) should thrust through Earth and Night:
For, when Formositie and Vertue striue
In one sole Subiect for Prerogatiue,
That Subiects praise must raigne (all Tearmes aboue)
In height of Glory, Memory, and Loue!

The Grand-sire of thy Flesh in Earth's renown'd;
And thy spirits Grand-sire King of Heau'n is crown'd:
Thou liuing, then, as comming from such Sires,
Our Songs must answere the Celestiall Quires,
That chant the praise of Vertue in their King,
In whom thou art, then we on earth must sing
Thy praise in his, sith his all praise containes:
So thine in his, eternall glory gaines!

To thee then sing I, as I sing of Thee,
Who art sole Base of this high Harmony:
For, knowing Tombes haue ends as well as wasts,
And that strong Rime their ruine farre out-lasts,

[112]

My Muse shall labour on this ground of Fame,
To raise a Pile of Rime, whereon thy Name
Shall euer shine, through Wits Celestiall Flashes,
Vntill another Phœnix of the Ashes
Produced be; that when it eft shall burne
In those eternall flames, it eft may turne
To pristine plight; and by such alteration,
Liue Phœnix-like (still bright) in admiration!
We waile their want whose Liues our wants supplide,
Not weighing how they liu'd, but when they dide:
For, the best liuers here, doe liuing dye;
But after death they liue immortally.

Children and Fooles are angry still with those
That, to distill; disleaue the fairest Rose;
Not pond'ring how the sweetnesse in the Iuyce
Is so increast, and longer lasts for vse:
So, we that see this Rose (whose hue and breath
Celestiall were) diuided so by Death,
Though it for heau'nly purposes be done,
Yet still our thoughts but on the spoile doe runne.
But ô be't farre from vs, to thinke thee spoil'd
In liuing blest, and dying so vnsoil'd:
No: we thy Memory will celebrate;
Whose weale we waile not, but reioyce thereat.

If in this Paper Monument there be
One Ornament of Arte that's worthy thee,
Or any Worke of Wit that may retaine
Thy Memory; my Labour for my Paine
Is too great Meede; sith by the same I show
Times future, what will better them to know.

113

So, shall I in thy Praise include mine owne;
And making thee so knowne still, still be knowne:
For, if this Shrine chance to be visited
By any, that regard the worthy dead,
It may be they will thinke me worthy Loue,
That on this Pile did all my cunning proue.

Th'Egyptians with their Pirameds did striue
(Against the Heau'ns) to keepe such, dead, aliue:
And Artemisia with a matchlesse Tombe
Makes her Mausolus liue vntill the doome:
Though It be now demolished and gone;
Yet is he knowne by It, as It was knowne.
And Wit, but with meere Words, hath often rais'd
A Monument of Praise, farre longer prais'd.
Then may this Worke, which but weake words erect,
(Vpon so sure a Ground) worke like effect.

The Name of Egerton she doth renowne;
And

Dutton.

that by which she last of all was known:
Nay, had she had, by Fortune, all the Names
That Wit for Natures vilest Creatures frames,
Sh'had so much Grace consorting still her Bloud
As to haue made them all as great as good!

The Dayes of old did lay their Macchabes
Vnder Worlds-wonders, huge Piramides!
Semiramis, in her bright Polymite:
And Cyrus, in his Obelisk as bright.
In his Columna they Augustus shut:
And in his Mole-magno, Hadrian put.
Alaricus, the Gothe that ruinde Rome,
In his rich Rubico they did entombe.

[113]

Those, dead, yet liu'd by these: and these againe,
Liue yet by those, though nought of them remaine!

But, were I able, I my Saint would shrine
Within the mouthes of Angels most diuine;
Sith they out-last all Worlds, that Time doth end,
And haue (of creatures) best mouthes to commend!
But liue (sweet Saint) in mine immortall Rime
(Made by thy vertue such) past Tombes and Time:
For, if eternall Vertue cannot dye,
Then thou must liue, till She doth ruin'd lye.

Farewell, deare Maide (whose body (like a soule)
Had pow'r t'inflame the Loue it did controule)
Farewell while we, by thy deare losse fare ill;
That is; while griefes doe grow the Heart to fill:
For she that held all Hearts (by her deserts)
To her entire, her Death must breake all Hearts.

Ye Ladyes (that (aliue) doe inly loue
So much o'er-weening that doth mortall proue)
Looke not ascue, nor turne the Head aside
(As if you could no Praise but yours abide)
At these iust Praises (Relickes of the Dead)
But learne by them to be so honoured.
“Enuy doth leaue the Enui'd at the Graue;
That Fort from Enuy should the Vertuous saue:
Then (ô) exalt these Lauds, vnlesse you will
Be rather pittied, then enuide still.

Poets (I grant) haue libertie to giue
More height to Grace, then the Superlatiue:
So hath a Painter licence too, to paint
A Saint-like face, till it the Saint out saint.

114

But Truth (which now mine Art to shaddow striues)
Makes licence larger by the grace she giues.

But yet,
To say thou wast the Forme, (that is the soule)
Of all this All; I should thee misenroule
In Booke of Life; which (on the Earth) they keepe
That of Arts fountaines haue carowsed deepe.
Nay, so I should displease and wrong thee both:
For, vniust praise thou canst not chose but lothe,
That lothed'st it here; then there, more (past compare)
For, hee's the Soule of All by whom they are.
But I may say, (and none the same gainsayes)
Thou art the soule of this thy World of Praise!
Whose soule did animate thy small-world too
To be the soule of all that here I doe.

Oft haue I seene thee, (nay I see thee yet,
Whose face and manners I shall ne'er forget)
When as thine eares had heard, or eyes had seene
Ought that to Vertue had offensiue beene,
Thy face and brest with that faire blush o'erflow
Which Modestie (not Bashfulnesse) doth owe.

In these bold Times it's held a Tricke too fresh
Of vnbred Indians, so to paint the flesh
For any cause: but, this is but th'effect
Of Impudence, the Times soules chiefe affect.

No Parts (if laudable) at Court requir'd:
But they attir'd thee in thy state retir'd,
Yet thou so modestly didst act them still
As that the light'st seem'd graue against their will!

[114]

What shall I say? in thee was nought so small
That was not greatly prais'd and lou'd of All!
This shewes thy Mother true vnto thy Sire,
Whose worths, in loue, set all the World on fire!
Thou, his true Daughter, likewise dost the same,
While thou goest through Obliuion by the flame!

The Soule a two-fold action hath; that is,
Originall, and Instrumentall; this
By Nature doth the like produce; but that
(Meere Intellectual) doth not generate.
Though Nature yet, could not so high aspire,
Thou, in thy spirit, wast like thine honor'd Sire
By speciall grace of Heau'n; for, in your Birth
Such Planets met, as deckt and ioyde the Earth.
But ô! too soone the earth quite lost that Ioy;
And in that losse found infinite Annoy.
Such is the staylesse state of Things below,
That doe but vanish while they seeme to grow!

Beneath the Moone, all is but like the Moone,
Constant in nothing but in changing soone:
And so will be while they remaine beneath;
Resting from changing onely but in Death:
As when the Whirle-windes (in their wheeling play)
Pursue their Turnes, till, in their Center, they
Returne into themselues: so, Nature goes
On in her Course (which first from forme arose.)
Vntill this World of forme be dispossest,
And Nature in the Chaos, takes her rest.

That Time runs round, by this dark Riddle's bright;
A Father hath twelue sonnes halfe blacke, halfe white,

115

And eu'ry sonne hath thirty, which still liue;
And when their sires decease, they them reuiue:
So sire and sons still die, but die in vaine;
For, still the thirty them reuiue againe,
And yet these thirty eu'ry Month doe die;
Yet eu'ry Month they liue immortally!
Thus, by a Yeare (which euermore doth raise
Twelue months (like sons) and each month thirty dayes)
Time turnes o'er All, and All doth ouer-turne,
Till in the later day himselfe shall burne;
And then Eternitie shall take his Roome,
In which is nothing past, nor yet to come;
Wherein the subiect of my Song still is
A glorious Angell in the height of Blisse!

Atheist, stand farre from this her sacred shrine:
For, thou art foe to all that is diuine:
Thou dost beleeue where ere her Corpes consumes,
There perisheth her soule, which ne'er assumes
The same againe: but (ô her flesh shall rise
(As doth her fame) aboue both death and skies.
And why shoudlest thou the Resurrection doubt,
When Clouds of Proofes so compasse it about?

Some write that Swallowes drown'd are in the Deepe,
In Winter; and, in Summer, rise from sleepe,
The Fly in Winter, dyes; in Summer, liues;
And, being drown'd, warme Ashes her reuiues.
The Vrchin of the Sea, in pieces rent,
Re-water'd, ioynes, and liues incontenent!
Each Graine that rots before the same doth spring
Is a true figure of this reall thing.

[115]

Each Plant, which in the Winter (seeming) dyes,
And springs in Summer, shewes men, dead, shall rise.

Say a man famisht, into Aire were past,
Yet Aire shall yeeld what it receiues at last
As well as Earth, and Seas shall yeeld their dead;
Though on them (vanisht) Wormes or Fish haue fed.
At first, they gaue, what they did not receiue;
Then, what they take, shall they not rather giue?
He that, but with a Word, made Man of nought,
Can he not raise him, dead, now he is ought?
If no: his Arme wants wonted pow'r, and length;
Or else wants knowledge to imploy his strength.
But in th' Almighty none of these appeare,
That knew our smallest Portions ere they were.

If Nothing were the point from whence did rise
Creation, it may be the Point likewise
Of Resurrection; but it Something is
That shall be rais'd: the easier then is this.
Say Men eate Men, through some hard exigent,
And them conuerted haue to nutriment,
Yet shall their Excrement (how ere vnmeete)
At last yeeld vp their Relickes pure as sweet!
For, at that Day each man shall put on fresh
Flesh of his owne, and not anothers flesh.
And though he fed of others, that shall be
Restor'd the owner, be it he or she.

And Beasts of prey, that oft on Men doe feed,
Doe die; and of them Flies or Wormes doe breed.
Those Flies and Wormes are often food for Fish,
And they againe come often to our dish;

116

All this may be: and so a Man may goe
Through Beasts, Fish, Fowle, and Vermine too and fro,
And neuer rest, though he be dead, till he
From that base Progresse lastly raised be.
Yet he that well knew All ere ought was made,
Knowes where what ere created is, doth vade;
And, can, but with a thought re-gather it;
And make it in the proper figure knit!
For, if t'were worthy Gods Creation erst,
To make Man subiect to a fall at first;
It's farre more worthy for his powrefull hand
To raise him, dead, eternally to stand:
For, Death is but a sleepe: and as a Man
Can wake Men, sleeping: so, th'Almightie can,
Raise vp the dead so much more easily
As matchlesse Pow'r doth passe Infirmitie.

If Heau'n be iust, and there be Prouidence;
Then we shall rise when we are falne from hence:
For, if the good, in this Life, finde but Woes,
And no Ioy in the next, most curst are those.
Nay, most bruit Beasts more happie are than they
Who here doe most of all Watch, fast and pray.

The Rod of Moses turned to a Snake,
Shewes God of one thing, can another make.
And shall he not (so, faile vs in our trust)
Restore man to himselfe, when he is dust?
O Heaueus fore-fend, we should once so conceiue;
For, God can neither alter nor deceiue!
Our Bodies are his seede; Church-yards and Graues
Are all his Seed-plots, where his Seede he saues

[116]

By sowing to corrupt, to rise againe
Most incorrupt; and so, by losse, to gaine.

In the Cadauer, some haue thought some Bone
Retaines the Seede of Resurrection;
Which kept from rotting by th'Almighties force,
Should raise, at last, the Worme-consumed Corse!
Some say, that in the Teeth that Seede doth lie,
Sith Earth, Aire, Fire them hardly putrifie.
But we beleeue this Seed (and doe not doubt)
Is not within the Body, but without:
For, when the Trumpe shall sound, the dead shal peep
Out of their graues, as newly wakt from sleepe.
By that great Pow'r that, there, asleepe them laid:
Then in that Pow'r that Seede is solely staid.
But, some doe say, our Bodies cannot rise
From Earth to Heau'n, for that aboue the Skies
No nasty Body can remaine; because
Such to the Center Nature euer drawes.
Fond men! they know not, then our Flesh shall be
Not chang'd in Substance, but in Qualitie.
Our Bodies shall be Heau'nly; so they shall
Agree with any place Celestiall.
Our blessed Sauiours Body, once like ours,
(Saue that it could not sinne) those heau'nly Tow'rs;
Doe now enwall: then, in that Heau'n of blisse,
Why, by his Pow'r, may ours not stay with his?

That Water hangs in th'Aire who doth not know?
And by the Load-stone heauy Iron doth so.
If Nature can doe this; what can perswade
Gods Pow'r is lesse then Natures, which he made?

117

No, no, his Pow'r, that doth all pow'r comprise,
Can flesh refine, t'inhabite (so) the Skies!

By which high Pow'r and his diuinest Grace
There rests my Saint, as in her proper place.
Her Soule there rests; and in those heauenly Bowres
Her Body shall, when it shall rise with ours.
Which while (too short a while) it soiourn'd here,
It did celestiall to all Eyes appeare.
Then, may a little mending make it fit
For Heau'n, that was so heau'nly out of it!
Thou wast (rare Maide) aliue,s' Angelicall,
That, dead, thy dust is Metaphisicall.

If some shall muse why I contemplate Thee
Among his Praises that most praisefull be,
Let it suffice them, t'was of purpose done,
To praise thee, Starre, for light had of this Sunne,
Within the Volume that includes his praise
(That nought includes) so his in thine to raise:
As when we laud the light the Sunne doth giue
We praise the Giuer in the Gift; and striue
(When most we praise the Taker) to renowne
The Giuers praise, for gracing so his owne:
So, and none otherwise, I praise the Grace
Appearing in the Soule, Limbes, Eyes, and Face
Of Natures Maister-piece this goodly Maide;
Of whom all good, can neuer ill be said.

If so much heau'nly Grace, and Gifts of Nature
(As Vertue, Beautie, rarest Forme and Stature)
Should not be grac'd by them they good; then I
May say, the better'd are the worse thereby:

[117]

For, still th'ungratefull for a Benefit,
(Though bound) are free from Honestie and Wit.

And though the vertuous, for their Vertues sake,
Looke not for praise; but striue it to forsake,
(To keepe them humble) yet each vertuous Wit
Should honour Vertue for selfe-benefit.
And sith Posteritie doth light receiue
To runne to Honor by the Lines we leaue
From Vertue drawne; we should be drawing still
The Lines that (drawing) lead vp Honors Hill.

The Highest Pow'r and Grace, by oath, hath vow'd
To honour them (among the multitude
Of Men and Angels) that are good; then she
That was so good, of both must honour'd be!

Celestiall Maide, if from the heau'nly Spheare,
What Mortals doe, thou canst or see, or heare,
Be not displeas'd that my vntutor'd Penne
Should teach thy praise, to teach all Maides and Men
The way to Honor: nor, that in its Mouth
(That oft doth fable) it should take this Truth.

I was thy Teacher, though (vnworthy) I
Might (old) learne of thee (young) to liue and die.
Yet sith it is th'Oblation of my Zeale,
Which I doe offer for the Common-weale
In thy deare Memory; thou wilt (I hope)
Acquite me from Presumption; sith my scope
Was but thy glory, and the Peoples good,
Which in great light, goe right in likelihood.

I must confesse a Priest of Phebus, late,
Vpon like Text so well did meditate,

118

That with a sinlesse Enuy I doe runne
In his Soules Progresse, till it all be DONNE.
But, he hath got the start in setting forth
Before me, in the Trauell of that WORTH:
And me out-gone in Knowledge eu'ry way
Of the Soules Progresse to her finall stay.
But his sweet Saint did vsher mine therein;
(Most blest in that) so, he must needs beginne;
And read vpon the rude Anatomy
Of this dead World; that, now, doth putrifie.

Yet greater Will, to this great Enterprise
(Which in great Matters solely doth suffice)
He cannot bring than I: nor, can (much lesse)
Renowne more Worth than is in WORTHINES!
Such were they both: for, such a worthy PAIRE
(Of louely vertuous Maides, as good as faire)
Selfe-Worthinesse can scarse produce, sith they
Liu'd like Celestiall Spirits, immur'd in Clay!
And if all-powerfull Loue can All performe,
That in it hath rare Matter, or like Forme,
Then should my Lines haue both so'accomplished,
As from the Graue to Heauen should draw the Dead:
Or, with her Taper pointed-beaming Name,
Naile her to Heau'n, and in Heau'n clench the same!

Hold Muse, no more: (thou hast too large a scope,
To proue thy Pinnions: for, the Heau'nly Coape
Infolds no more) and take thy leaue anon
Of Her thou ne'er shalt leaue to muse vpon.
Thou maist be tir'd; but ne'er canst flye about
The Inside of her praise, much lesse the out.

[118]

Then stouping here, with reuerence, griefe and loue,
Bid her adue; and, with that bidding, moue
Thy selfe to teares; but, if thou canst not so,
Shew thy selfe willing by the dryest woe:

For, neuer had I greater cause of griefe;
Sith while she liu'd, I ioy'd, in painefull life:
But now, am left all solitary-sad
To waile her death, whose life made Sorrow glad!
O! had it pleas'd the Heau'ns, by their Decree,
T'haue made my Pupill learn'd t'haue dide of mee,
(And mine example) I had beene at rest,
And she liue blessed long, to dye as blest.
I, like a wither'd Pine, no fruit produce;
Of whom there is no Care, no hope, no vse.
I burden but the Earth, and keepe a place
Of one (perhaps) that should haue greater grace:
Opprest with Cares that quite crush out the Sappe
That feeds my Life; now throwne off Natures Lappe.
I solely sit, and tell the saddest houres,
That euer yet impeached vitall powres.
Obscur'd by Fate, yet made a Marke by fame;
Whereat fooles, often, shoote their Bolts, in game.
Yet, liue as buried (that I learn'd of thee
Deare Pupill) while the World goes ouer mee.
Praying for patience still to vnder-ly
The heauie waight of this Worlds iniurie.

Oft haue I beene enbozomed by Lords;
But all the warmth I found there, was but Words.
And though I scarse did moue, yet scarse they would
There let me lie, though there I lay acold;

119

But, as I had some biting Vermine bin,
Out must I, mou'd I but for warmth therein.
Or els so lie, as I were better out;
Sith there I lay as dead, yet liu'd in doubt:
In doubt I should haue nothing but a place
In th'outward Roome but of their Idle Grace.
In doubt black mouths should blot me in their Bookes
That make few Schollers; and in doubt my Hookes
Would hold no longer to hang on (ô Griefe!)
This hanging's worse then hanging of a Theefe!
An Halter soone abridgeth bale and breath;
But hanging on mens sleeues, is double death.
To hang in hope of that which doubt doth stay
Is worse then hanging till the later-DAY.
Doubt stayes that meede that merit hopes for, oft,
Lest Meede should but make Merit looke aloft;
Or, quite leaue working, sith it hath no neede;
Therefore the great doe still with-hold this Meede:
For, to themselues they say; If we should fill
The well-deseruing-empty (working still)
They would but rest: than, well wee'l them intreat
Yet keepe them hungry still to worke for meat.

Fate, but to State this priuiledge affords;
And but the meane, without meanes, worke for words.
Yet worke they must, sith Aire the great doe giue:
For, if they haue their hate they cannot liue.
Their Loue doth little boote; but ô their breath
Blowes downe, in hate, a poore Relict to death.

These miseries I ranne through, and did trye
These deare Conclusions but in miserie;

[119]

Hoping for that which but my hopes deceiu'd;
And me of hope and life, almost, bereau'd.
Till I (to stand) from these was faine to fall
To serue two Lords that serue me, now, withall:
The one immortall, th'other mortall is;
Who serue my turne for what my life doth misse:
Which, for it's still amisse, still misseth that
Which makes men gracious, and (so) fortunate:
But he, who knowes all, knowes (perhaps) it's best
For me to liue with little, in vnrest:
For, neuer since I first could moue, had I
A better life than those that (liuing) dye.
I neuer yet possest one day of ioy
That was not lin'd or hem'd with some annoy.
The Kingly Preacher in his weale found woe;
But I in thwarts, for those alone I know.

These made me old in youth: for, Sol had runne
Scarse thirty yeeres before my dayes were done;
And to his course ere fiue more added were,
Blacke Daies (like Nights) in gray had dide my Haire.
Yet neuer Crosse on me so sad did sit
As this deare losse; whereof this benefit
To me acrewes, that (now) each pressing woe
Stands farre without this, and this keepes them so.

I say I greatly grieue; yet seeme to faine:
For, great griefes neuer greatly could complaine:
That is, when Sorrowes floud the Banckes doth fill,
It noiselesse runnes, and smoothly glideth still:
But if the Current once the Brimmes get o'er,
Twill roughly runne; or, stopt, will rage and rore.

120

But, ô, that tyrant Time will silence me
Before my griefes are vtter'd as they be:

Farewell then, my griefes Cause, who wast th'effect
Of all the ioy my life did well elect:
Farewell, in Him, on whom who fares is well;
And, while I liue, Ile be the leading-Bell
That shall thy lowdest Peales of prayses ring
Which in the Clouds shall ne'er leaue ecchoing!
Or, be the Trumpet of thy Fame to fill
Th'Ætheriall Lofts with Straines more lofty still!
That when Times wings his Funerall flame consumes
Thy Fame shall soare with faire vnsinged Plumes!

An Epitaph on the death of the right vertuous Lady Liegh;

sole Daughter of the same right Honourable, Lord Elesmere, Lord Chancellor of England: which Lady deceased the third day of Aprill, Anno Dom. 1612.

Here dead shee lies; who while aliue she was,
was Graces Inne; Wits Home, and Vertues Rest:
Whose WORTH was of true Worthinesse a Masse:
yet well proportion'd for her humble Brest.

[120]

A Wife and Mother! as it's hard to say,
whose losse was great'st, her childrens, or her pheares:
To eyther wisely kinde; to each a stay;
that made one, loue; the other, loue and feare.

To her all-honour'd Sire, she was as deare,
as she was vertuous; which was as the bloud
In his Hearts Center; which to him is neare;
yet dearer held his flesh in one so good!

Who dide (as liue she did) in grace and peace,
more laden with good-deeds then idle-dayes:
Leauing her worth (for worthinesse increase)
for Wiues vnborne, to imitate and praise.

Who had at once, two Husbands; yet she liu'd
of Wifely truth a constant Paragon:
One Husband heauenly was; who hath depriu'd
the Earthly of her, for himselfe alone.
Yet, yer he had her, bought her with his Bloud:
But, with her, bought a World of Womanhood!

Then, maugre Time, & Death these Lines, tho weake,
May leade all Times all good of her to speake!

Here Muse, now close the Paper-tombes of these
Two vertuous Soules, and Bodyes; Aunt and Neece.

with this,
A good Name is better then a good Ointment: and the day of death, then the day that one is borne.

Eccles. 7. 3.

121

The Picture of an happy Man.

How blest is he (though euer crost)
that can all Crosses Blessings make;
That findes himselfe ere he be lost;
and, lose that found for Vertues sake.

Yea, blest is he in life and death,
that feares not Death, nor loues this Life;
That sets his Will his Wit beneath;
and hath continuall peace in strife.

That striueth but with fraile-Desire;
desiring nothing that is ill;
That rules his Soule by Reasons Squire;
and workes by Wisedomes Compasse still.

That nought obserues, but what preserues
his minde and body from offence:
That neyther Courts nor Seasons serues:
and learnes without experience.

That hath a Name as free from blot
as Vertues Brow; or, as his life
Is from the least suspect or spot,
although he liues without a Wife.

[121]

That doth (in spight of all debate)
possesse his Soule in Patience;
And pray, in loue for all that hate;
and hate but what doth giue Offence.

Whose Soule is like a Sea, too still,
that rests, though mou'd; yet, mou'd (at least)
With loue and hate of good and ill,
to whaft the Minde the more to Rest.

That singly doth, and doubles not;
but is the same he seemes; and is
Still, simply so, and yet no Sot;
but yet not knowing ought amisse.

That neuer Sinne concealed keepes;
but shewes the same to God, or moe;
Then euer for it sighes and weepes;
and ioyes, in Soule, for grieuing so.

That, by himselfe, doth others mete;
and, of himselfe, still meekely deemes;
That neuer sate in Scorners Seate;
but, as himselfe, the worst esteemes.

That loues his body for his Soule;
Soule, for his Minde; his Minde for God;
God, for himselfe; and doth controule
CONTENT, if It with him be odde.

122

That to his Soule, his Sense subdues;
his Soule, to Reas'n; and Reas'n to Faith:
That Vice in Vertues shape eschewes;
and both, by Wisedome, rightly waigt'h.

That rests in action, acting nought
but what is good in deed and shew;
That seekes but God within his thought,
and thinkes but God to loue and know.

That all vnseene, sees All, (like Him)
and makes good vse of what he sees;
That notes the tracts and trickes of Time,
and flees with th'one, the other flees.

That liues too low for Enuies lookes;
and yet too high for loth'd Contempt;
Who makes his Friends Good-men, and Bookes,
and nought without them doth attempt.

That liues as dying; liuing yet
in death, for life he hath in hope:
As far from State, as sinne, and debt;
of happie life the meanes and scope.

That feares no frownes, nor cares for fawnes
of Fortunes fauorits, or foes,
That neither checkes with Kings, nor Pawnes;
and yet still winnes what Checkers lose.

[122]

That euer liues a light to All,
(though oft obscured) like the Sunne:
And though his Fortunes be but small,
yet Fortune doth not seeke nor shunne.

That neuer lookes but grace to finde;
“nor seekes for knowledge to be knowne:
That makes a Kingdome of his Minde,
wherein, with God, the raignes alone.

This Man is great with little state,
Lord of the World Epitomiz'd:
Who, with staid Front, out-faceth Fate;
and, being emptie, is suffic'd:
Or, is suffic'd with little; sith (at least)
He makes his Conscience a continuall Feast.

This Life is but Death.

Thogh Fire by warmth cheers life; great heat brings death;
though good Aire life detaines; bad, life defines:
Though Water stayes our thirst, it stops our breath;
though fruitfull Earth doth feede; the barren, pines.

Too-much o'er-fils; too-little, feebles life:
Wealth wants not Cares; & Want, wants all but Cares:

123

Solenesse, brings sadnesse; Company, but strife;
and sodaine Ioyes doe kill, as well as feares.

Meane mirth, is rationall; extreame, is mad;
no good so good, but here it's mixt with ill:
Nay, too much goodnesse is exceeding bad;
yea, bad, if blinde it be, is true Good-will:
And, saue the High'st, our highest gaine is losse;
Then, life's but death where al things are so crosse.

True Wealth.

That Grace that neyther wonders, grieues, nor ioyes
at Fortunes vtmost, seeking but to finde
What Bounty (still in action) best imployes;
nor wailes the want that beggers not the Minde:

That neyther, grieuing, sighes; nor, ioying, sings:
that shines most glorious, in most gloomy dayes;
Pleas'd with the state her owne endeuour brings;
that droupes not with defame; nor swels with praise:

That scornes Disdaine, disdaining nought but vice;
and Greatnesse rates by Goodnesse: doing nought
But good for ill; and that for auarice
of goodnesse onely; by her onely sought:
That Time and Wealth well spent, doth not deplore:
This is that Wealth, without which Wealth is poore.

[123]

An Angel-like Man.

He which (prouokt) endures, as borne to beare;
and lookes alike in greatest weale and woe;
That so loues good, that ill he nought doth feare;
and ebbes in Minde when Fortunes most doe flow.

That bounds Desire with lesse than he enioyes:
(for, onely nothing's lesse then Nature needes)
That holds all Vertues deare; all else but toyes;
and, meekely, scowres Prides rust, from his bright deeds.

That's better than hee seemes, yet seemes the best:
but, without scandall, seekes to seeme the worst:
That, quell'd with Crosses, thinkes him highly blest;
and, for the Blisse of all, would dye accurst:
In summe: that would doe all that All should do
For loue of All: this Man's an Angell too.

124

A sicke Mindes Potion for all in Tribulation in Body: or for the sauing of their Soule.

Thou that dost ioy or grieue beneath the waight
of his deare Crosse, who dide on't for thy sake,
View and reuiew these Lines with more delight
then Patients doe the Potions which they take:
How ere they sense displease, they wholesome be;
So wholesome, as they often whole doe make:
So may this Potion worke the like in thee:
My Muse desires to make it griefe expell;
And, all shee seekes, is but to take it well.

Yet this I doe as oft the sicke doe talke
of Health; not for they haue, but would haue it;
So, I exhort to Patience, though I balke
her Way; and onely wish the same to hit:
Yet, as a sicke Physitian soone may finde
a Potion for anothers Passion fit:
So may a sicke Minde cure a sicker Minde:
No Mind more sicke then mine; yet well I know
What's good for Mindes so ill; and, that I show.

The Soule that sins, vnplagu'd, wilde quickly growes,
as Trees vnprun'd; and, but sowre fruit produce;

[124]

The heau'nly Planter then, no cost bestowes,
but it abandons as vnfit for vse.
Why weep'st thou then, sad soule? what thou endur'st
a blessing is, no beating for abuse:
Or, if it be, sith it thy selfe procur'st,
Thy patient bearing this thy Sourge (or Crosse)
Doth make it score lesse; nay, thy Score doth crosse

Regard not then thine anguish, in the Rod;
but, in thy Fathers Will what place thou hast:
If thou wilt share the pleasures of thy God,
then, of his Cup thou must, with pleasure, taste.
The Oxe assign'd for slaughter well is fed,
and lies at ease; while others labour fast,
And still are yokt, tyr'd, prickt, and punished.
“Not all that stroke are friends, nor foes that strike;
“but strokes that maime from eyther, we mislike.

The Wounds, a friend doth giue, are sweeter farre
than suger'dst Kisses of a fraudfull foe:
The first, oft make; the last, more often marre;
for, Surgions Bands doe pinch, to solder so:
Who bindes the Mad, or wakes the Lethargicke,
how ere he seemes, thereby, t'awake their woe;
Yet, he to both's a friendly Empericke.
“Seueritie is Mercy oftentimes,
“And Mildnesse cruell, that increaseth Crimes.

To weane vs from this World, an vnkinde Nurse,
God (onely good and wise) annoints her Teates

125

With Gall of troubles, spights, and what is worse;
and as a Mother well her Childe entreates;
But makes her Seruants vse it ill; that so
finding of all, saue her, but blowes and threates,
It may to her, the much more willing, goe:
So, God permits that All should vs molest,
That we may flye to Him, and loue him best.

The flatt'rings of the World, the Flesh, the Fiend,
are but the kisses of worst Enemies;
And though the Fiend to Heau'n seemes to ascend,
like Ioues owne Bird that nestles in the Skies;
Yet is he but a greedy Bird that towres
to Heau'n, while on the Earth he nearely pryes,
To watch his Prey, whereon forthwith he poures:
For, he but seemes in Vertue to excell;
And flyes to Heau'n, to beare his Prey to Hell.

Out of close-Prison, and much closer Chaines
many doe trauell; but, their Iourneyes end
An endlesse Kingdome is; whose greatest Paines
are endlesse Ioyes; these sincke, but to ascend,
Vnlike the Fiend that mounts, to fall more low;
and, ruine that, on which he doth descend;
But, low these stoupe, to shunne an Ouer-throw:
“To beare high Sailes in Tempests, is to haue
“Our Keele turn'd vp with eu'ry Gust and Waue.

If Crosses heauie be; ô yet (at least)
they make the Soule as sober as discreet:

[125]

If we be fellowes of our Lords vnrest,
we shall be of his rest and comforts sweete:
He wounds; but his are wounds but of a Friend,
that in no fortune once from vs will fleete;
And lanceth but to cure, and make vs mend:
“It is a Payne, that's free from all annoy,
“To die with torment still to liue in ioy.

He that had seene iust Ioseph in his Chaynes;
in Sackcloth Mordocheus (his Iybet nie)
Susanna going to her mortall Paines,
would haue bewail'd their infortunitie:
But, had he knowne that Ioseph should be rid
from Giues to Rule; and Mardochs ieopardy
Conclude in Honor, as Sasannaes did,
He would haue though them blest in great mishap,
sith so great Comfort was the after-clap.

So much the Fiend shall tempt, when thou dost doat.
as shall enforce thy minde to minde her misse:
If Christ we serue, Affliction is our Coate;
his Crosse, our Badge, to make vs knowne for his:
His nakednesse, how we should cloath vs, shewes;
his Gall, how we should feed on Agonies:
B'his hanging on the Crosse, how to repose:
And by his Death (wherein all paines were rife)
How to esteeme the pleasures of this life.

Worlds-weale's our woe; and yet we will not see't:
young Toby walkt securely in the Mire:

126

But at the Riuer when he washt his Feete,
a Fish was like to swallow him entire.
He that, on paine of life, must watch the Foe,
wakes best when he is neer'st Afflictions fire;
But, on the Bed of ease he doth not so:
In this Worlds hell, if ease be good for ought,
It's Poësie; yet too much makes it nought.

Besides, the better minde, the worse is tempted:
Pirats to charge the emptie Ship, forbeare,
But richly laden, and from feare exempted,
they charge it home, and giue it cause of feare:
Euen so the Fiend, while we are void of Grace,
lets not our Voyage, but our Helme doth steare:
But when we take in truest Goods apace,
With Stormes of troubles then he seekes to reaue
Vs of our fraight; and, o'er Bourd vs to heaue.

Of Ioseph, Beniamin was loued best;
in his Sacke, therefore, Iosephs Cup was found:
So doth the Cup Christ dranke of, euer rest
with those to whom his loue doth still abound:
On Beds of Roses lyes Lasciuiousnesse,
which Vertue hates, sith she corrupts the sound;
But Vertue liues, too oft; in all distresse:
For, she respects not Fortune; nor disdaines
To lie with those, that often lye in Chaines.

When God had praised Iob, the Fiend straight praid
that he might proue him with Affliction:

[126]

And when the heau'nly Voyce, of Christ, had said;
This is my deare, and wel-beloued Sonne,
He, in the Desert, was, soone after, tride.
“They finde most Lets that most aright doe runne;
“And they lest Rubs that most doe runne aside:
“But, straight to runne, dispight each spightfull Let,
“Doth Glory gaine, while Shame the rest doe get.

When holy Dauid did his People count,
a great Mortalitie his Coasts did scowre:
But when Augustus did this Sinne surmount,
taxing the World (by his vsurped Pow'r)
He ne'er was with least Punishment annoid:
So, Ionas, fly'ing, a Whale did him deuoure,
While Pagan-Passengers a Calme enioy'd:
But, though the Whale did Ionas (so) enioy,
He swallow'd, but to saue, and not destroy.

And as a Searre a Sonne takes in the Face
in his Sires quarrell, though the Face it marres;
Yet it procures the Fathers loue and grace,
and so gets glory by such gracelesse scarres:
So, God desirous more to haue vs kinde
than comely Children, thrusts vs in his Warres,
As we were but to fire and sword assign'd:
He takes more pleasure in the great'st annoyes
We haue for him, then in our ghostly ioyes.

Each Danger, for our Mistresse, vnder-tane,
seemes most secure; and pleasant, deadli'st paine:

127

The Wounds both for & from her (though but bane)
seeme honied-sweet; and losse, for her, is gaine:
The colours that she likes; we most doe loue:
her words, meere Oracles; her spot, no staine;
Her actions, Patternes, ours to shape and proue:
All her perfections past Superlatiues;
And imperfections, least Diminutiues.

And shall we doe and thinke all this, and more,
but for a shade of Beautie; and endure
Nothing for Beauties Substance? nor adore
the CREATOR but in the Creäture?
O! tis a shame that Reas'n should be so mad
in men of minde: for loue (if it be true)
Will most affect what's rarest to be had.
“The Obiect of true Loue is greatest GOOD;
“If lesse she loues, it ill is vnderstood.

With our Soules Eye, if Christ, our peace be view'd,
true loue shall see a Soule-afflicting sight;
His head with bloud (that thornes do broach) imbrude;
his Eares, with Blasphemies; his Eyes, with Spight:
His Mouth, with gall; his Members all, with wounds;
his Heart, with griefe; and all in all vnright:
Yea, so vnright, as Iustice quite confounds:
Yet, mans Ingratitude doth griue him more
Then all these Plagues, as manifold as sore.

And, ô, for whom doth he the same endure?
for Man, begot in filth; in darkenesse, form'd;

[127]

With throwes, brought forth; & brought forth most vnpure,
whose child-hood's but a dreame, with pains enorm'd,
His youth, but rage; his man-hood, ceaselesse fight;
his Age, meere sicknesse, all his life vnsure:
And, worst of all, his death is full of fright.
This, this is he, for whom Heau'ns God endures
All shame and paine, that paine and shame procures.

W'are no where safe, where we may fall to sinne;
in Heau'n, nor Paradise; with men much lesse:
In Heau'n fell Angels; Paradise within,
the first man fell, throgh whom, all men transgresse:
In the World Iudas, from his Lord did fall:
so no place can defend from Wretchednesse,
But he that place confines, and holds vp All:
For who from worse to better fals, he may
From better fall to worse, without his stay.

If Crosses trauerse not our Comforts, then
we ought to crosse our selues as many did
That were Men Angel-like; or, Gods with men;
who hardly liu'd, in Dens and Deserts hid:
Fed little, and slept lesse; in Sacke-cloth clad;
to minde them that to mourne they here were bid;
So, chose food, place, and suite as suites the sad:
To sing in Babilon, being Abrahams Seede,
Is to forget our Bondage and our Creede.

Heau'n is our natiue Home, our Canaan;
Earth's but the shade of Death, or vale of Teares:

128

Then mirth in place of moane, but kils a man:
at point of Death hee's mad that Musicke heares:
Therefore those Saints, (discreete, sad, sober Soules)
reiected all that Sense to Life endeeres;
And liue (as buried quicke in Caues) like Moles.
“If Weapons lefte doe wound then sharpest praise,
“Lesse hurts lamenting, then the Syrens layes.

And as Men longing, at Noone-day to see
the Lamps of Heau'n, descend into a Well
As deepe as darke that so their sight may be
the more contracted, smallest Stars to tell:
So, pious men, that faine would fixe their Eyes,
still on the Stars (the Saints in Heauen that dwell)
Descend (in Earth) to low'st Obscurities:
“For, to a louing Soule all labour's sweet
“That tends (although in Hell) her Loue to meet.

Low is our Way; but, our Home most sublime:
if home we would, then this low Way is best,
Which yet, growes steepe somewhere, and hard to climbe;
yet, Loue o'ercomes it, & eternall Rest:
Vaine pleasures are like Gold throwne in our Way;
and, while to gather it, we stoupe, at least,
It let's vs, and our Iudgements doth betray:
But if on Heau'n our mindes be altogether,
Nothing shall let our Bodyes going thither.

Which way goe you saith Christ to those that stray?
I am the WAY: and whither will you wend?

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I am the TRVTH: or else where will you stay?
I am the LIFE: that is, your Iournyes end.
Now if this Way doe lead o'er steepes and plaines,
If this Truth teach vs, rising, to descend,
If this Life be not got but with our paines,
Then, wo to them that laugh, sith weepe should al;
And blessed they that weepe; for, laugh they shall.

We should be, therefore, like th'Egytian Dogs,
that drinke of Nilus running, lest they should
By staying much, to drinke like greedy Hogs,
the Crocodile might haue them, so, in hold:
Nature doth teach them, reas'nlesse, what to doe:
then, shall not grace worke much more manifold
With humane Creatures, that diuine are too?
It should: then, we are mad, or reason lacke,
to quench our thirst of hauing with our wracke.

What is't to haue much more than Nature needes;
but, to haue more then Nature well can beare:
Like one that's deadly drunke, or ouer-feedes,
whose excesse makes his Death excessiue cheare!
Enough, then, should be better then a feast,
sith more is mortall, howsoeuer deare;
For, Nature cannot well so much digest.
“Much lesse then little (onely) makes her grutch;
“Enough maintaines her better than too much.

Besides; in vs, Sinne is more odious growne,
then in the Diuell: for, his was but one sinne:

129

Ours, numberlesse: his, yer Reuenge was knowne;
ours, when we knew it; and might fauor winne:
In Innocence created, sinned he;
but we, when to't we had restored bin:
In malice he, of God forsooke; but we
when God recall'd vs to his sauing-Grace:
He damn'd, we sau'd: yet were in worser Case.

For we were sau'd in possibilitie;
but he condemn'd; so, could not saued be:
He sinn'd gainst one that him did straitly tye;
but we (worse fiends) gainst one that made vs free:
Against one he, that doom'd him second-death;
but, we gainst one that dide for vs so, he
Sinn'd lesse than we; which Hope quite banisheth,
Did not the time we liue in, stirre vs (thrals)
To call for Grace, that comes, if griefe but cals.

He that of Sinne, doth know the large extent
and Hell of Hels the Soule incurres thereby,
Shall little feele his Bodyes punishment,
though he, in life, a thousand deathes should dye:
Which borne with Patience, for his Sauiours loue,
quite abrogate his pass'd impietie:
And future sinnes and paines from him, doth shoue:
“Immortall paines, extreame in qualitie,
“Annihilate all mortals quantitie!

Our Faith, in the beginning, thinne was sowne
in the afflicti'on, shame, and death of Christ:

[129]

And then with Martyrs Bloud t'was ouer-flowne;
nor, can it grow (or prosper) to the high'st
Without showres, ceaslesse, gushing from their wounds:
then, what art thou, that soone thy Faith deni'st
For feare of death, that but thy Iudge confounds?
O! I am he, the frail'st of flesh and bloud,
That liues for ill, and feares to die for good!

Yet for Christ t'is more glory to be crost,
then of him to be crown'd an earthly King:
The last may be, by chance or Treason, lost:
but, from the Crosse, immortall Crownes doe spring:
To be in glory may proceede of Grace
without the glorifide his meriting:
But well-borne Crosses alter (quite) the case.
“Vertue consists in doing hardest things;
“And, vicious Fooles haue too too oft beene Kings.

Who suffers straight, hath but one victorie;
but, he that alwayes doth encounter paine,
And yet o'er-throwes the strong'st Extremitie,
is crowned eu'ry day, and still shall raigne:
And what is Death but our best earthly friend,
which kils our Flesh, our deadliest enemy?
So, friendly is both to and in the end.
Then Crauen, why doe I so flye his force,
That saues me when he makes my corps a corse!

For, if the pining of the body be
the pampring of the Soule; than, must this friend,

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That, with his paines makes vertuous Soules to flye
where they are pamper'd without meane or end)
Be still embrac'd, not fled: but, ô fraile flesh
this dying-doctrine doth but thee offend,
That hold'st it most erronious, fond, and fresh:
Thou canst not poise these treasures of the Sp'rit;
for, they are waighty: and, thou art too light!

Thou must haue all that may thy Senses charme
with sweete, as most effeminate, delights;
And fly'st from Death to honied pleasures swarme;
yea, follow'st them in their vnconstant flights:
Austeritie, nor canst, nor wilt thou brooke,
sith it quite mortifies thy liuely sp'rits;
And, for thy life, still put'st thee to thy Booke:
But, thou dost long for all that makes thee light,
As well within, as (gawdy still) in sight.

Mean while thou burn'st to nought with flames of sin:
for, as the Lightnings flash, although it spares
The painted sheath, it melts the Blade within;
(which is the thing more worthy) so it fares
With sinnes pernitious fire-flash: for, it leaues
the goods and body sound: but, vnawares,
The Soule, more pretious, it of life bereaues:
“But, who to spare a Thing of nought, will spend
“Gods Coape (his Soule) hee's mad, & cannot mend

Many (though Princes) poore, are in their store;
in Honors, abiect; malecontent, in mirth:

[130]

Their flesh, selfe-frailtie; their spirits, basely poore;
their Soule's the sincke of all the sinnes on Earth;
The Moths of Man-kinde sores of Sou'raigntie;
vnhappily-happie in their base-high Birth;
Who liue like Monsters, and like Diuels dye:
“The rich, possesse; the meeke, the Earth enioy:
“For they haue most, that haue the lest annoy.

Looke in the Graues, suruey the Emperours,
Kings, Dukes, and Worthies of the Ages past;
Then looke on those whom life and death obscures;
(poore Beggers) tell me then, who's first, who last;
Who rich, who poore, who faire, foule, high, or low:
but, if thou canst when burnt be diuers Woods,
Their Ashes well distinguish; then, maist thou
distinguish of their bodyes, states, and blouds.
Then wherefore waigh we so our Flesh (missed)
That's light as vanitie aliue, and dead?

And life, at best, is but a golden sleepe,
lin'd but with siluer, or more earthly dreames;
Or else a Tragedie (that moues to weepe)
of ceaselesse troubles, and most dire Extreames;
A passing but from life is life; for, still
in stay'ing, it goes; yet vnlike Water-streames,
That, running, stay alike, by Natures skill:
Streames, running, rest the same, and not the same;
But, still vnlike, doth burne our vitall-flame.

Things future, are beginning endlesly;
Things present, euer ending; and Things past

131

Quite dead or done: for, while we liue, we dye;
and, dead, we liue: so life is first and last.
Then, better dye to life, than liue to death;
for, mortall-life (in Death) but time doth waste:
And Death doth gaine of time he shorteneth:
Who, for our good, our bodyes still assailes;
And frees our Soules by ruining their Iayles.

It is but Natures necessary wracke:
then let vs make it voluntarie, that
Is necessary; and still bowe our Backe
vnder the burden of our common state
With all alacritie; and giue to God
his owne; which were most damn'd to alienate,
Sith he, or Dolors, paid for it, his lode.
Then, it were Sacriledge not to restore
That which he made & lent, and bought, and more!

Death's dreadfull but to those that know him not;
to those that know him well, hee is not so:
The Old, before their faces him haue got;
the young, behinde; while he doth all o'erthrow:
Acquaintance with the Warres, estrangeth feare;
they dread not waues at Sea, though high they goe,
that vs'd are to them, (though they all orebeare)
And with them fight in front, or in the reare:
Then, not to feare Death, is with him to be
Familiar made; and, bring Sense vnder lee.

The Pilot, while he is his Ship to guide,
sits at the Stearne; for, there he most preuailes:

[131]

And, so the vertuous (maugre winde and Tyde)
when through this stormy Sea of life he sailes,
Sits at the Stearne; that is, lifes hinder-piece;
where he, in Tempests (bearing lowest Sailes)
Conducts it safely to the Port of Peace:
“To beare high sailes, and still forbeare the helme,
“Is Ship, and Fraight (so) quite to ouer-whelme.

Death is the doore, whereby we must goe out
of straitest Bonds to freest Libertie;
Then as the Pris'ner that of Death doth doubt,
yet waites the while for his deliuery,
Most ioyes in sitting at the Prison dore,
that, when it's op'ned, he may instantly
Get out, t'enioy his freedome, as before:
So should our Thoughts be fixt on lifes last steppe,
To which we soone may iump, but not o'er-leape.

Thoughts mortifide the ashes are, wherein
the fire of Vertue, being rak'd vp close,
The longer lasts, and greater heate doth winne,
to kindle courage in our cold dispose,
That when Death comes, and those shall be vnrak't
we may reioyce our flame so freely goes
Vnto her Spheare; then should it not be slack't
In Chimney of our flesh, where it doth lye,
Like to be quencht with our iniquitie.

And, as a floud that from a mountaines top,
doth (rowling) run, with strange, as ceaslesse, noise;

132

And ouer many craggy Lets doth hop,
till in the Vale beneath, it rest enioyes:
So, fares it with our life; which we beginne
with ceaslesse out-cryes, for our felt annoyes;
Then downe Times houres we run, through lets & sin,
Till in the end we rest in vale of Death,
To which we blow our selues by spending breath.

Then Death's our rest, for, since the same hath past
through lifes pure Veynes, or rather Lords of life,
Of the least bitternesse it hath no taste;
but, freshest sweetnesse therein still is rife:
It is the vertuous peacefull Paradise;
but, to the vicious, tis a World of strife:
For, nought is plagu'd in Death, but mortall Vice:
Then he may well be stil'd a Martyrs Peere,
That vertuous Death doth rather seeke than feare.

Death to a Thiefs's compar'd; who, if he findes
the Man, he meanes to rob, vpon his guard,
He speakes him faire; else him he bindes and blindes:
so, Death is kinde to those for him prepar'd:
But, curst to them, that, carelesse, spend their breath:
for, all that watch for him, he doth reward
With endlesse Life; the rest, with double death:
But, they that dye for Vertue or good note,
Though he o'er-throw them, yet they cut his throate!

And why should his worst looke more irke, or feare
a Man resolu'd that he can dye but once:

[132]

Goliah bought a little Stone as deare
as Sampson did the House that chrusht his bones:
And, from a Chaire to fall, the Necke can breake
as well as falling high, as Thunder-stones:
And, all is but one Death, (bee't strong or weake)
Deaths sharpest sting, the Heart but enters in,
Which dyes with that, and so t'will with a pinne.

Why grudge we then, t'endure for endlesse life
that, for vaine-glory, freely we endure?
Repine we not to dye in damned strife,
and, grudge to dye to make our life secure?
Is Death so sweete, when it the Diu'll commands;
and when God wils it, is the same so sow'r?
What manhood's this, whereon; now, manhood stands?
O ougly valor (if it valor be)
To flee to death; yet, fearing, life to flee.

Liue well, and, so, dye well, perhaps, we may;
but liue still, and not dye, we neuer can:
Life is not short, that, soone, goes well away;
and, longest life Truth calleth but a spanne:
He dyeth old (though young) that well doth die;
and Life well lost is better then ill wanne;
For, so to winne we lose eternally:
Then, what can counteruaile eternall losse?
Nothing that is; no Patience beares that crosse.

If we for vertue doe our life forgoe
our Pitcher's broken o'er the fountaine-head,

133

From whence, what fill'd it, came; and, where doth flow
the Aqua vitæ, that reuiues the dead:
Our liquor is not lost, but runne into
the proper Fount, by Nature thither lead,
And heau'nly Grace assisting Nature too:
Our life's a war, where patience guards from losse:
Our Captaine, Christ; our Standard is his Crosse!

But, seemes God long, thy labours to content;
the more forborne, the more will be thy meede:
He takes on Intrest what before he lent:
and, takes delight t'o'er-guerdon each good-deed:
If in our Vs'ry, then, we wish delay;
feare we the Lord of All should fall to neede,
That, on his Bond, we dare not giue him Day?
And, shall we trust a Merchant, that may breake;
More than that King, of whom all Kings do seeke?

Admit thou should'st be rackt to straine the Truth,
(though Racks are made the truth to gaine not strain)
Yet, if thou her beleeue, let ne'er thy mouth
deny it for the cracking of a veyne:
We owe so much to Truth as should we pay
the reall debt, to vs should nought remaine;
No, not our liues, which must, for her, away:
For, God and Truth are Relatiues. Not so:
For, God is Truth; then, for him All must goe.

If Truth-pretending Turkes or Infidels
should on our Plagues, which we for her endure,

[133]

Triumph; and make our Paines so many Hels,
alas! (poore Soules!) they (so) doe but procure
Their owne perdition: for, that God we serue
is God of vengeance; and the same will poure
On Good-pretenders that so ill deserue:
“To be for truth reprocht; yea, plagu'd, or slaine,
“Is to be glorious, free from Death and paine.

The red-hot It'n into the Water throwne,
thunders therein, as if it did it harme,
Yet, so, the force of burning's ouer-throwne;
the while the Water, cold before, is warme:
Like Thundrings Tyrants vse, in eu'ry Age,
who, though against the Truth themselues they arme;
And with the bloud of Martyrs quench their Rage,
Yet all their triumph's nothing but the noise
Of their owne quenching, and the Martyrs Ioyes,

Then, if they shew vs Honors, Gold, or Iemmes,
t'intice vs to their Faith; they shall but shew
The Lion Chaffe, which (chasing) he contemnes:
and if with Torments then, they vs pursue;
The Salamander they but threat with fire;
which makes her rather to reioyce then rue:
So, that the worst they can doe, we desire:
Then, through the Red-sea of our bloud, thus shed,
Vnto Heau'ns Holy-Land we soon'st are led.

Saints on the Earth resemble Babes dead borne;
that are no sooner borne, but borne they be

134

Vnto their graues; so, straight to Ashes turne:
but Tyrants (Viper-like) doe liue to see
Their owne Confusion; and the death of those
which they haue martyr'd: so, from death, made free;
And, manumiz'd from this Worlds mortall woes.
The first, are borne to dye, to liue in ioy;
The last, to liue, to dye in all annoy.

When Theeues an house doe breake, to rob by night;
(sith tis a Worke of darknesse) first, they will
(That they may not be knowne) put out the light;
and so the good are handled by the ill
Lights of the World the Good are said to be;
but bad-men (Sonnes of darknesse) put out still
Those lights, lest men their darkest deedes should see;
For, all that euill doe, the Light doe lothe:
So, loue they darknesse; and, doe darkly both.

Vnto the light it's no reproch at all
though Bats and Owles abhorre it; nor, is it
Disgrace to Wisedome, if but Ideots shall
condemne the same for Polly: they want Wit
To iudge of Wisedome, which is too too bright
for men to looke on that in darknesse sit;
To iudge of coulors, blinde-men haue no light:
The fault's not in the coulors they are so;
But in their Eyes that can no colours know.

Farre sweeter are the Teares of them that mourne,
then is their laughter that in mirth are lost:

[134]

All crosses by the vertuous so are borne,
that most they ioy in that which grieueth most:
Like Roses mong the Thornes, their pleasures are
most sweete, when as they are most sharply crost;
And, being at the worst, they best doe-fare!
But, put the least crosse on a sensuall Soule,
And twil (blaspheming) grudge, nay, cry, & houle.

The greater Oxe the yokes worst part doth beare,
(that is, the heauiest) Christ (that is, thy God)
Thy yokes most heauy part with thee doth weare,
that so thou maist, with him, the lighter plod
Through thicke and thinne: for him thou canst not do
that he did for thee; hee feeles the Rod,
Yet he doth all in vs, and for vs too:
“Mates in afflictions, make Affliction lesse:
Then, if Christ beare, with vs, nought can oppresse!

This life is but a lye; true life's not here;
it seemes, but is not: so, it is not true:
Than, for a lie, or what doth false appeare,
let vs not lie to God, or breake our vow
We made in Baptisme; but to cleaue to him,
although for it, it might (perhaps) ensue
That we to him, in our owne Bloud should swimme:
That water's strong; it will not let vs sincke,
And, to engrosse sure Deedes, the onely Incke!

The life of Dauid was but Teares and moane;
but Salomons was ioy and Mirth through-out:

135

Yet Dauid (sure) is sau'd: but, Salomon
whether he be, or no, Beleeuers doubt.
Poore Lazarus liu'd here in dying-plight:
Diues in all that reueld with the Rowt
Of honied Pleasures, and extreame delight:
But he that liu'd in death, in ioy now liues;
And he that ioy'd in life, in death now grieues.

As sweetest Wine doth soonest boile our bloud:
so, this Worlds fauour workes vs most annoy:
The Water of Detraction then, is good
to mingle with it, lest we should be coy:
For, being gratious in the great Ones sight:
when Cunning clawing makes vs doate, with ioy,
W'are best remembred by the tongue of Spight:
“So, foes do oft make those, that friends doe marre;
“As many liue most warily in Warre.

He that should passe a Foord, that swift doth glide,
(so to preuent his giddinesse of Braine)
Should fixe his sight vpon the further side;
not on the Water, and himselfe sustaine
By one more strong, that, as his guide, should goe,
lest that the Current, running so amaine,
Should ouer-whelme him by an Ouer-throw:
Then, rest on Christ, and fixe thine Eyes on blesse,
while thou go'st through all Torrents of distresse.

Through fire and water we must passe, before
we can arriue where nothing can distresse:

[135]

Our flesh in both should purg'd be more and more;
for, in the pur'st it's full of filthinesse
In double kinde: and, makes cleane Soules the while
to lothe their Lodge, so full of slutishnesse,
Consorted with all vices that defile:
“Pride, Enuy, Wrath, Lust, Hate, with all amisse,
“The Species are, and Flesh the Genus is.

For, flesh is earth; so, in our soules it sets
foule thoughts: (as earthly, as voluptuous)
The World as vaine as curious thoughts begets;
the Fiend, maditious thoughts and enuious:
Who on the flesh for help doth much rely,
sith houshold enemies may soonest hurt,
She being here freedeniz'd specially;
and we in bondage toiling here in durt:
Then, doth the World relye vpon the Diuell
To make flesh loue the World: and, so, all euill.

So these procure vs Worlds of Enemies:
if Auarice be quail'd; Lust, seconds her:
If Lust be foil'd; Ambition straight doth rise:
If she be downe; then Anger wageth Warre:
If it be cool'd, Pride, Enuy and the like
giue fresh encounters in this mortall Iarre;
And all, with all their might, our ruine seeke:
Then, where the fight's so fell and ceaslesse too,
Wert not for grace, most would themselues misdo.

136

Then, if we waigh our flesh how fraile it is,
how full of all disease, in life, how dead!
In Death, how foule! (as nought so foule as this)
how then can we be light with so much Lead?
Or how can we be pleas'd such filth to feede
as in our Nature naturally is bred;
And, whence so many Prodigies proceede?
Then if we may be ridde from such annoy,
But with one death, it is the life of Ioy!

And what is Honor but a lie, like life?
for, as a Ship at Sea, with swelling Sailes,
By windes, that for her peace are still at strife,
dauncing vpon the Waues with merry Gales
Allureth eu'ry Eye her pride to praise:
but when to th'Hauen she comes with her auailes,
Shee's by the Searcher sackt, or Custome paies:
So they, in life, that are most honored,
Are often most dishonour'd being dead.

And likewise, while some saile on Surges high
of puft-vp vanities; and still ensue
The Tyde of Times, arm'd with Authoritie,
are prais'd, and follow'd of the worldly Crue:
But if, by grace, they doe themselues withdraw
into a vertuous life: then, straight their due
Is search'd or sackt, by Custome, or by Law:
O then how blest are they that most are curst
(For their so blest retiring) of the worst.

[136]

The Libard beares to man such mortall hate,
that in his face he flyes when him he sees:
Therefore they vse a man to figurate,
and shew it him, at which forthwith he flees,
And piece-meale teares it; so, his wrath t'asswage.
shewing thereby how ill with man he agrees:
So Sathan and his Members being too weake
To teare our God, to spoile his Pictures seeke.

As Grapes vnto the Wine-presse all doe come,
that come to Vertue in Faiths outward House:
They shall be crusht with many an heauy doome
of Iustice nam'd, but most iniurious:
But, though their Pressures squize out all their bloud,
yet in Gods Seller shall it finde a Roome,
And there made Rose of Sollace, sweete and good:
Then, let vs still be prest so prest to be;
For, running loose, we soone runne to our lee.

The more huge Billowes beate vpon a Rocke,
the more they breake; and so, to froth are turn'd;
The while the breaker seemes their spight to mocke,
that hurt themselues, not him, that so they spurn'd:
So, let the spightfull spurne vs while they will,
our Rocke stands sure, while they are ouerturn'd,
Whose blowes, for vs, Christ beares, or breaketh still!
So, hurt themselues they may, but neuer vs;
Sith still, in him, we are victorious.

137

Yet tis too true, some wise and wicked too
(if possible the wicked may be wise)
May if a King will doe what they bid doe,
vndoe a Realme with Legall Tyrannies;
And all the guilt thereof shall still be gilt
with guilefull glosse of Conscience, most precise;
Till all be as they would, though all be spilt:
“For, that's but spilt that stands but on the fall
“Of sacred Vertue, that vpholdeth all.

To carry Pagan hearts in Christian breasts,
is no new thing, though many (new) doe vse it:
“On fair'st pretence the foulest purpose rests:
yet Beautie's good; but foulely some abuse it:
The heart of man so many windings hath,
that for a Maze of skill none can refuse it;
Sith hard it is to turne to eu'ry path.
O Christ! wert thou on Earth as once thou wert,
How would'st thou, now, behypocrit mans hart?

Such faire pretences we may well compare
t'Egyptian Temples; faire, but most prophane:
Garnisht with Gold, and Columnes, rich as rare,
in th'outward Roomes: but, if a view be tane
Of th'inward, where their God is still confinde,
some lothed Viper, full of deadly Bane,
Or Snake or Cockatrice, we there shall finde:
So, in such faire Pretence we (often) see
The Diuell himselfe, as God, ador'd to be.

[137]

With Christs plain Coate to hide vice (which enormes)
is to disgrace the Owner: or it is
The Diuels vertue, that himselfe transformes
t'an Angell bright, to doe the more amisse:
But, eu'ry Age hath groan'd with this Disease;
yet neuer Age, for that, was eas'd of this,
Groane while we will, it will vs still displease:
Then make w'a vertue of necessitie;
And, what we needs must beare, beare willingly.

For, these, and like afflictions, still must proue,
and purge our manners from the drosse of blame;
From Earth to weane, to God t'increase our Loue;
like Smithes Forge-water that augments the flame:
And, pleasure is most pleasant vnto those,
that haue beene least acquainted with the same;
As heauenly Ioyes are after earthly woes:
And, Griefes grow senselesse in a vertuous Will,
Or rather sensuall; for, they rauish still!

If in our foote, much more if in our Head,
a thorne be thrust, our Heart, nay, Soule will grieue:
Then flye we pleasures, as they vs haue fled;
and rather wish for paines that ease might giue:
Then sith our HEAD is thorned ouer all,
if we his Members be, shall we be fed
With honied pleasures while he tastes but Gall?
God shield we should: then let vs onely ioy
In his sowre-sweetest Crosse, and his annoy.

138

Moses did see him in the midst of fire,
and fiery Thornes: and in the mount among
Lightnings and Thundrings: Daniel did aspire,
to see his Throne, which fiery wheeles did throng:
Then shall we looke for more Prerogatiue,
than had these friends of God? then him we wrong
T'expect what he, in Iustice, cannot giue:
For, we must see him as the others did;
Else may we seeke him, but he will be hid.

For, as the Sires delight to haue their Sonnes
resemble them in fauour: so it ioyes
Our heauenly Sire, to see vs (wayward Ones)
like him, in patient bearing all Annoyes,
Which, for our good, his grace on vs inflicts:
for, when we beare what beautie quite destroyes,
(The wemmes and wounds of all his sore conflicts)
In his faire Eyes we are most louely, then;
And foul'st, when fair'st but in the Eyes of men.

We see a Dogge, that but with crusts we feede,
will in our quarrell fight while he can moue:
And Seruants which we hire for little Meede,
will ne'erthelesse die often for our loue:
Then shall we Christians be lesse kinde then Beasts,
or thankfull lesse, than those we hire for neede
To him that giues vs all that Faith requests?
O no: no, no, it were too great a blame
The dignitie of Manhood so to shame!

[138]

The Flow'r of Iesse did most sweetly smell,
and came to perfect growth vpon the Crosse:
The fruit of life could not be gather'd well
without sharpe Thornes that stooke vnto it close:
And Gall was tasted, in a deadly fit,
by the best Taster; who, by his lifes losse,
Wanne Life to all that dye in him, and it;
And, till he rose from Death, he did not eate
The Hony-combe; but, fed on sower meate.

The Waters of Affliction are the streames
whereat our heau'nly Gedeon still doth try
Who are fit Souldiers for his Warres Extreames;
and seuers such as on their Bellies lie,
To drinke as thirsting that they, full, may rise;
from those that, for their meere necessitie,
Reach out their Hands to take what doth suffice:
“Great Wealth and Vertue no agreement haue,
“Sith Vertue makes it serue her as a Slaue.

Though Prisons, of themselues, be Sathans folds,
wherein, for slaughter, his best Sheepe he keepes:
Yet may the Cause make them the safest Holds,
(yea, Heau'ns of Saints) for, tho the Linnet peepes
(When shee's encag'd) at eu'ry loope and Chincke,
as longing to be gone, and often weepes
That shee's restrain'd; yea, leaues her meat & drinke;
Yet in the Cage she is from danger sure
Of Fowlers Snares, and Kites that would deuoure.

139

But those in Patience that their Soules possesse,
(while they, in bonds, doe Tyrants wrath asswage)
The sweeter sing, the sowrer their distresse,
Irke well-taught Lynnets vsed to the Cage,
There learne they sweeter Notes than Nature gaue,
when they abroad were in their Pilgrimage;
New exercise of Vertue, there they haue:
Where may we sing with Quires of Angels then,
More free, then when most fast from mortal men?

Then out of Prison goe we, when we be
put into Prison, so the cause be good:
For, Libertie is but Captiuitie;
that (lightly) makes more loose fraile flesh & bloud;
Kings Courts; yea, Heau'n it self must yeeld, with awe,
t'a Prisons glory (though defil'd with Mud)
That keepes Gods Seruants safely for his Law.
“A Princes Presence makes a Cote a Court;
“And, that Pris'n's Heau'n, where Saints & Angels sport.

The Coriander-seede, in pieces cut,
each piece brings forth as much as all would doe:
And so a Martyr into Prison put,
and there first bruiz'd, then, cut in pieces too,
No drop of bloud, no piece (though turn'd to mould)
but it hath force the Diuell to vndoe;
And workes more (often) then the Owner could:
For, if in priuate Iarres effused Gore
For vengeance cries; his can doe that, and more!

[139]

Of all parts of a Tree the Roote seemes worst:
for, it's deform'd, and most offends the sight:
Yet, all trees vertue thence proceedeth first,
stemme, branch, & leaues, flow'rs, fruit; yea, life, & might
The Roote alone may challenge as her owne:
for, by the same they are both borne and nurst,
Which in the Roote (as in the wombe) was sowne:
So some like Rootes, be'ing ragged in the Eye,
Dying for Christ, makes Christians multiplie.

Some Trees there are, that, if their Rinde be rent,
cut, prickt, or bruiz'd, a precious Balme it bleeds,
In sight and sauour faire and redolent:
but neither yeelds, till outward it proceedes:
So, Martyrs when their Flesh is gasht or torne,
out flowes the Balme that cures their own misdeeds,
And others heales, that (so) to Vertue turne:
This balme's so sweet that it the World perfumes,
Whereby the Pagan Christs sweet Name assumes.

The Roses sweetnesse, if vntoucht it be,
soone with the leaues doth wither quite away;
But by the Fire when it is still'd, we see
it yeeld sweet Iuyce that hardly will decay:
Nay, more; the Leaues so bak'd into a Cake,
doe long make sweet both where they lye, or lay;
And all that neighbors them, most sweet doe make:
The leaues, so parcht, delighting still the Nose,
Immortall makes the Sweetnesse of the Rose.

140

So, Martyrs sweetly liue, with Brambles keene,
sith in their conuersation they are pure;
Yet few can see it, sith they liue vnseene:
but still from worldly Comforts make them sure,
Bolt them, nay, bray or burne them if you will
then will their vertue sweetly all allure:
And Heau'n and Earth with diuine sauour fill:
Had they, by Nature, dide, their leafe nor iuce
Had not beene halfe so sweete, nor meet for vse.

Darke is the Water in the Airy Clouds,
yet that, the Rose and Lilly brings to light,
Mantling the Earth with all that Nature shrowds
within her bowels yer the Waters light:
What are these Clouds (of which the Psalmist sings)
but Clouds of Witnesses (as blacke as bright?)
Graue Martyrs that giue Truth true witnessings:
Their Bloud the Water: and when out it poures
The Time lookes blacke, but Saints spring with the showres.

With bloud the Churches Bud came forth at first,
as earnest of the fruits she was to beare;
Who was no sooner 'spoused vnto Christ,
but in their bloud her Infants drowned were,
To shew her future throwes in bearing young:
your yeers (sweet Lambs) could not beleeue nor feare;
But yet your flesh could dye to right Faiths wrong:
Thus did the Church as soone as shee was wed,
With chastest bloud forgoe her Virgin-hed.

[140]

Then to our bloud the Gates of Heau'n flye ope;
and, with our bloud Hell-fire's extinguished:
Our Bodies bloud doth scowre our Soules like Sope;
and with our bloud our Bodie's honored:
The Diuell shamed, and God glorifide:
for when, in Truths defence, the same is shed,
It makes our deedes most glorious in it dide:
The seed of Vertue, and the bane of Vice
Is bloud so shed: “No price to' a bloudy PRICE!

The resurrection of Truth, Faith and Fame,
did slowrish most when soakt in Martyrs Bloud:
Whose Palms with waight grow higher, & their flame
doth waxe more strong, the more it is with-stood:
Their Spice, by pounding, yeeldeth sweeter sent,
and Lets to Truth are borne downe with this floud:
Which let abroad, doth grow more violent;
And, while it runnes, it rores, and after cryes
For vengeance on their Foes, Truths Enemies.

With Tyrants Thundrings, Errours Cloud is crackt,
th'inclosed light of Truth's disclosed so;
And showres of bloud (that then for Truth are wrackt)
makes Martyrs more and more on Earth to grow:
For, still their Side by God, himselfe, is backt;
they (Sampsons) with their Death, do quell the foe,
And most torment him, when they most are rackt:
then, good Crosse (blessed sheep-crooke) Saints stil keep
to Christ, whose Hooke thou art, to catch his Sheepe.

141

For, as a feate Embroderer, that hath
a piece of Veluet brackt, t'embroder on,
So drawes his Worke, that he, to hide the scath,
embroders richliest in that place alone:
So; God vpon the Veluet of our flesh,
all torne in time of Persecution,
Couers the Bracks with Beautie faire, as fresh:
So, that the other Parts are beautifide
By those rent parts, by God so glorifide!

And as the Paper-mill, of rotten Raggs
tane from the Dung-hill, by still mauling it,
Makes so white Paper, as the filthy Iagges
may now infold the purest part of Wit,
Or purest things that come from Heart, or Hand:
so, we by Martyrdome, are made most fit
(How euer base) in glory still to stand:
And made more apt (diuinely) to comprise
Gods glorious Graces, and his Rarities.

Thogh th'vpper heau'n doth turne (by violent sway)
the lower, out of course, from East to West;
Yet, of themselues, they wheele the other way:
(for, they, by Nature, turne from West to East)
So, thogh from th'East, where Truth begins to shine,
her Foes would force our Faith, or course, at least,
To Errors West, where Truth doth still decline;
Yet must we stirre, as Grace and Nature moues
Vnto the East, where God our course approues.

[141]

A Martyr's like a Dye, which though it fall
this or that way, it fals no way amisse;
It flat will lye, or cannot lye at all;
so, Martyrs lye with Truth, where ere she is:
They will lye leuell with the Earth; nay, more,
In, or aboue it lye, or stand for this;
Hange, burne, or starue, all's one; they feele no sore:
Then when God throwes at all, with them, to win,
At eu'ry throw, he drawes some others in.

Abel he cannot be that is not taught
true patience by the malice of a Caine:
And happy he that like a Cole is caught
out of Afflictions fire with God to raigne
While he is bright, and glowes with Charitie:
for, whether to be white or red, in graine,
The Church were best, is vncouth to discry:
The Churches flowres the Rose nor Lilly want,
But both adorne, and make her triumphant.

The martyr'd Body of our Lord and God
is the main Rock from whence his Saints are hewne:
For, from his flesh they rent are with the Rod;
and by the rentings of the Rod are knowne
To be true flesh of his torne Flesh, and so
to be his Types, by which him selfe is shewne
To Heathen-folke, that him desire to know:
“O! tis a glory past the height of FAME,
“To be like Christ in suffrings as in name.

142

The antient Romaines vs'd, their force to trye,
t'incounter Beares and Lyons; and the Scarres
That came by sauage Tuskes, they valued hye;
and piercings of their Pawes so many Starres:
If in vaine-glory they such Dents endur'd;
what should we doe in Christ, our Captaines, Warres,
Be'ing of true glory, for our fight, assur'd?
We should (with Patience arm'd) encounter death;
And, for that gaine, with torment, lose our breath.

Shall Saints feare Men, whom Angels ought to feare;
for, Saints shall iudge the Angels; and, the Fiend
Hath cause to feare them; for, they rule doe beare,
ouer his Legions; yea, his Forces rend:
The World should likewise feare them sith the Saints
shall, with heau'ns Vmpier, iudge it in the end;
Than hee that at his threates, or torments, faints
Can be no Saint; but must be Iudg'd of them
(A Coward) to foule shame, and paines extreame.

Elias must not feare, nor feare disguize,
to let the Mantle of his flesh to fall,
To flye in Coach, flame-wing'd, to Paradise:
Gedeon must breake his earthly Pots, sith all
Their Light's so seene to put his foes to flight:
Ioseph must leaue his Cloake, or else he shall
Be mou'd to wrong his Maister in his right:
“Life leads to Care; but, Death to Comfort leads:
“Then Death, in Syons cause, in Sion treads.

[142]

At Sea, decayes the Sailer; in his Tent,
the ventrous Souldier; in the Court decayes
The vertuous Courtier; Iustice, in Iudgement;
true Faith, in Friendship; Skill, in Arts Assaies;
In Manners, Discipline: so, we, alone,
(that, dying, liue in these too nightly dayes)
Vnder the ruines of the World doe grone:
All is quite orderlesse; which doth portend
The World, with vs, is euen at an end.

And ô what should I say, when Courage makes
the Cause nor good nor bad; for, Falshoods Friends
Haue dide in Errors cause, at flaming Stakes,
as stout as Martyrs in their constant ends?
Witnesse that Legate, sent from Pow'rs beneath,
who late in Smith-field, Error so defends,
That he out-fac'd Truth, men, flames, dread & death:
And Anabaptists there for Error stood,
As stout as those that, for truth, lost their bloud.

But, Legate, though thou canst no answere yeeld,
yet let me question thee as many doe
Question the dead for Error which they held;
tell me, who gaue thy false Faith Courage too,
That thou for Error should'st so stoutly burne,
for Error that must needs thy Soule vndoe,
If, on the Coales from it, shee did not turne?
Can Sathan counterfet our God so nye
In's Gifts, that men, for him, should stoutly dye?

143

But thou might'st answere; Faith, though false it be,
yet, if the Soule perswaded be it's true,
Vpon the Heart it worketh morrally,
as Faith doth, which to Heau'nly Truth is due:
This made the Priests of Baal their flesh to wound;
and many Indians sense of paine subdue;
Yea, burne with those, whose Faith, they hope, was sound:
Then not to suffer much; nor Constancy
Proues Error, Truth, which fire's too cold to trye.

Then Truth must trye her selfe by Reas'n and Faith;
but, where Faith bids beleeue, Reas'n still must be
Obedient to beleeue what ere she saith;
though she say, Three are One, and One is Three:
A Maid's a Mother, that a Man had wiu'd:
true God, vnmade, made true Man, really:
And that the Dead shall rise, as here they liu'd:
All this, and more, of Faith, must Reas'n beleeue;
But God (the Fount of Reas'n) this Faith must giue.

Death is the worst of Ils, yet best to those
that dye for Faith well tryde: and who they be
The Conscience of the Dyers neuer knowes,
if with the Rules of Faith they disagree:
Then God knowes who are his: and Men may know
that all are his, his freest Spirit doth free
From life, by death bee't violent quicke or slow:
A Saint as Man, may feare and faint in death,
As Christ did (dying) yer he yeelded Breath.

[143]

Let this Cup passe, was Terrours proper voyce,
yet vtter'd by our Sauiours sacred Tongue:
Our flesh (he tooke) annoi'd, did make that noise,
fore-feeling it should be with Torments stunge.
My God, my God, why hast forsaken me?
vnto our Flesh intirely did belong;
Then may true Martyrs in Death drouping be
With sense of pain; but God, that gaue them strength
To stand to him, through him, preuailes at length.

For, tis not hard when Gods soft comforts cheere
our Soule to suffer, torments to endure;
But when such fauours are turn'd all to feare,
and in distresse of Minde to hold vs sure
To God, and for him all annoyes to beare;
that is a Miracle perform'd by Grace,
Past Natures best performance; and is deere
Vnto the Doner; then, who doth the same
Goes straight to glory through Afflictions flame:

For, Works of Iustice we should rather doe
than those of Grace: now Iustice wils that we
In Truths defence should dye, with torment too,
though Grace, to vs, a stranger seeme to be:
“Obedience farre excelleth Sacrifice;
the first, is duty, in the high'st degree;
The other, in our Wils Deuotion lies;
Then courage in our Death is no true Signe
Of life else-where, without the Cause diuine.

144

For, through Vaine-glory some in Death haue seem'd
as brauely resolute, as Saints haue bin:
Nay, oft the first haue beene the better deem'd
by outward-sight, that seeth nought within:
Leæna being but a Curtezan:
tyring her Tortures, though she dide for sinne,
Spat out her Tongue, that to accuse beganne:
And many more, of like sute, so haue dide:
Then, by braue dy'ing, plain Truth's not iustifide.

But dye they how they can that dye for Truth,
they stoutly dye, sith they dye willingly;
But much more they that dye in sportfull youth;
& though Deaths ougliest face may daunt their eye
When they behold him; yet, if they endure
that feare, and paine, which after they must try,
They stoutly dye, though faint be all their pow'r;
Nay, more they doe, sith they so little can;
“Flesh is but mire, the Minde doth make the Man.

But see what ends the Tyrants erst haue made,
that of Gods Saints made ceaselesse Butchery:
Nero, the chiefe, that first did them inuade,
in his owne bloud his murdring hands did dye,
And while he bled his last, he (crying) said;
Foulely I liu'd, and dye more filthily:
Thus, for his paines, in paining, he was paide:
Domitian, by his Seruants being slaine,
For doing like, the like reward did gaine.

[144]

Fell Maximinus, with his Sonnes, was brought
to selfe same issue: Decius, with his Frye,
Incurr'd the like: Valerianus, caught
by him that swaid the Persian Monarchy,
Was cag'd in Iron more fast then Lyons are,
who, in the end, being flaid, dide wretchedly;
But Dioclesian worst of all did fare:
For, he fell mad; so, made himselfe away,
While fire from Heau'n his House did leuell lay.

So of the like, in life, and their Degrees,
I' might count many dire and awfull deaths;
All dranke Gods vengeance Vials to the lees:
&, in their bloud o'erwhelm'd, they lost their breaths
For, God vnstings such angry Waspes and Bees,
sith each their Stings in Saints too often sheathes:
“God burnes his Rods when he hath paid his fees:
Yet Stings of spight, in th' Head of Pow'r, with wit,
Can sting the World to death, if Heau'n permit.

But howsoe'r th' Almighty throwes his Rods
into the fire, when he his Ire doth cease;
Yet, oft the scurged fall to greater ods
with Goodnesse, than before: The Churches peace
Makes her more loose then when shee's bound to fight
(vncessantly) with foes that her disease;
“For, they liue wrong that rest to much in Right,
“Mettall (though Siluer) resting long vnscowr'd,
“Will canker; or, with filth, be quite obscur'd.

145

For (ah) this Witch (the World) with pleasing charmes
so lullabies our Sense in soft delights,
That though we be, vpon our guard, in armes,
yet we are taken in our Appetites;
And made to serue the Diuell, and our Flesh
in strictest Bondage; while their Parasits,
Sinne-soothing Pleasures, doe our Sense refresh,
To serue them with the more alacritie;
So, Glee lets Grace our Sense to mortifie.

A Parable.

Wee' are like a Man chast by a raged Bull,
who in his flight into a Well doth fall;
And, in the fall (by chance) he lighteth full
vpon a Tree, that there growes in the Wall:
And, resting there, there sets his Soules delight:
but looking better on the place, withall,
He spies two Mice, one blacke, the other White,
Who still the Roote of this his rest doe gnaw,
And more and more asunder it doe saw.

Then, vnderneath he lookes, and there espies
a gaping Dragon threatning to deuoure him:
And at his feete foure striuing Serpents rise;
yet, looking vp, he spies (what doth allure him;
And makes him deeme, he is from dangers free)
a little Honie (which he euer tryes)
Cleaues to a branch of that vntrusty Tree:

[145]

For which, these dangers he neglects; and still
That Hony sicks, yet ne'er can licke his fill.

The Morall.

The Bull, is Death; the World, the Well; the Tree,
our time of life; the white Mowse and the blacke,
The Day and night: the striuing Adders be
the Elements, that striue vs still to wracke:
The Diuell, the Dragon: and, the Honie is
our whitest Pleasures, that are lin'd with blacke;
And, blacke within, for losse of Glories Blisse:
Who, therefore, would not deeme that man were mad
That in such dreadfull dangers can be glad?

What comfort can we haue then, in a place
that's by the Prince of darknesse gouerned?
Where eu'ry thing is in a cursed case;
and, by Gods foes and good-mens, peoplëd:
Where Paines be rife, extreame, and infinite;
but Pleasures few, and false, fraile, dull, and dead,
Which, at the best, at least, doe vexe the sp'rit:
Where Plentie's full of perill; Want, of woes;
And (in a word) where all, that ill is, flowes.

Then, cast we off these pleasures, that but cast
a mist before our Eyes, and mocke our Sense:
But let vs hugge those paines, and hold them fast,
that bring eternall ioyes for recompence:

146

Now, if this Potion worke not in sicke-mindes,
at point of death is their Intelligence;
Nay, Death the pow'r of all their forces bindes:
In few: Great things by greatest mindes are sought:
The small but seeke for shades, the shels of Nought.

To attaine a quiet Life.

Who would in quiet spend his life,
must shunne the Cause of strifes Effect;
And yet with Vice still liue in strife:
so, Strife retaine, and it reiect.

1 Hold no Conceit 'gainst that Conceit
the King maintaines; vnlesse it be
Against that Faith, whose forme and waight
with TRVTH, well tride, doth still agree.

2 Finde neuer Fault, but when the same
concernes the Honor of the High'st:
Or else the Kings; to heare whose blame,
is blame which oft to Death is nigh'st.

3 No Wager lay: for, that but stirres
the Losers heart to hate and ire;

[146]

Which oft enflameth Ciuill-warres:
then, giue no Fuell to this Fire.

4 Nor make Comparison: for it
is odious; and, workes like effect:
Why should thy Will, t'aduance thy Wit,
anothers Wit or Worth deiect.

To praise thy selfe, is but Dispraise,
vnlesse Spight wrongs thine Honor (knowne)
If others Shame thy Glory raise,
let their Shame raise it, not thine owne:

For, tis but Shame, to glory in
anothers Shame, because we yet
Are free from blot: but Praise we winne
by hiding both our praise and it.
This is the way to earthly Peace;
Without which growes all strifes encrease.

A Cordiall to cheare the Heart vnder the Crosse of Confinement: written to a great Lord, once a perpetuall Prisoner.

While yet thou lyëst in Afflictions fire,
more bright to make thee, and increase thy worth,

147

From mine Inuentions Mud, I send this Mire,
to cast vpon the flames, if they breake forth.

Then, deigne t'accept (vnhappy-happy Lord)
this Muddy Stuffe, my creeping Muses Meate;
The rather, sith some ease it may afford
in plaistring Patience if it scorch with Heate:

For, greatest Spirits doe greatest Passion feele
in bearing Crosses, though but small they be;
But vnder great, great Men doe weakly reele,
though greatest Men from weaknesse should be free.

But thou (to thy true glory be it said)
dost crosse expectance, bearing so thy Crosse,
As those that are by Hands of Angels staid;
so, draw'st much winning out of little losse!

For, Libertie to lose, or terrene trash,
(the Minde being free) is better lost than found;
Which oft, on Waues of Weale, their Owners dash
on Rockes vnseene, which eyther part confound.

Now be'ing thus staid, thou canst not rise to fall,
Fortune hath bruiz'd thee, but on Safeties Base;
That now thou canst no longer be her Ball,
to strike thee in Lifes Hazard, for her Chase.

Now maist thou sit securely where thou art,
and see (vnseene) the Worlds Reuoluings still;

[147]

And how men liue by industry, or Art;
and what euents ensue the greatest skill.

So sitting, bound to Safeties Shore, at ease,
thou maist with ioyfull-Sorrow freely see
How other Folke are tost on Dangers Seas,
as they that beare the highest Sailes still be.

Now on the top of some proud Billow borne
as high as Heau'n (while Billow-like they swell)
Then, by a Crosse-Sea is that Billow torne
be'ing at the high'st; so, straight they sincke to Hell.

And they that haue the Winde and Tyde at will,
each Moment feare the Winde may turne about;
And so their good is neuer free from ill,
because their Hopes are euer bound to doubt.

But now thy Will (familiar with thy Crosse,
all Stormes of Passions being ouer-blowne)
Hath euer Calmes that neuer threaten Losse,
that more then now, thou ne'er didst hold thine owne.

Now Mischiefe cannot see thee, though she would
looke ne'er so narrowly to glance at thee:
For, thou art hid in Brittaines strongest HOLD,
where safe thou holdst thy selfe and thy degree.

And some that Life immurde, would haue to chose,
although, as Monarches, they might all controule:

148

As greatest Charles his Empire did refuse,
and shut his Body vp, t'enlarge his Soule.

For, that great Priest of Hyppo held but right;
who rather out of Hell his God would see,
Than be in highest Heau'n, and misse that sight;
then Bondage, with that Sight's diuinely free!

And long I wish (great Lord) thou maist be so;
(though short I wish thy Troubles) and that God
That hath perhaps t'vplift thee, brought thee low,
will make a Staffe of that that was thy Rod.

The Hearts of all, in his all-holding HAND,
he wields at will, and Patience will requite;
Then, thy Commanders Heart he may command,
(in time) Sunne-like, to fill thy Moone with light.

Then, when thou hast regain'd this Comforts Sunne,
thou will maist say (as some haue said of yore)
“Th'hadst beene vndone, badst thou not beene vndone
sith then thy Moone shines fuller then before.

For, eu'n as when the Moone is at the full,
she from the Sunne is most remote we see:
So, in thy Wane (perhaps) this Sunne may pull
thee to him neere, to light thy Heart, and thee.

That so it may Ile pray; and pray that thou
maist Grace attract by vertue of thy Grace;

[148]

Meeke Patience can the Heart of Highnesse bowe,
and make selfe Wrath to shew a chearefull Face.

For, when our liues doe please the Lord of Life,
hee'l make our greatest Foes our greatest Friends:
Then shall our Troubles cut the Throate of Strife,
and make our peace to make our paines amends.

Long life is promis'd those that liue aright,
then maist thou all disfauours ouerliue:
“Patience o'er-comes what nought o'ercomes by might,
eu'n God himself, & makes him to forgiue.

But say the worst should hap (which hap's the best)
that thou shouldst liue and die in state confinde,
Thy state's most blessed, sith so little blest
with Freedome, that to Earth enthrals the Minde.

Yet Libertie thou hast as large and free
as highest Vertue (Angel-like) doth craue;
For Men like Angels loue with Christ to be
in's bloudy-sweat alone, or in his Graue.

And, if that fellowes in Affliction make
affliction lesse, thou hast thy fellow-Peeres
In worser plight, whom Death did eu'n forsake,
that they might liue with thee to ease thy Cares.

“A good-mans state scornes Pitie howsoe'er:
for, though it be engulph'd in deep'st distresse,

149

Yet his high Vertue him aloft doth reare,
that no Calamitie can him oppresse.

And though he be coupt vp in Little ease,
his spacious Minde to him a Kingdome is;
Wherein he wanders Worlds that most doe please:
for, Heau'n and Earth holds that great Mind of his!

While in his Conscience Theater is plaid
the Comedie twixt his Soules Spouse and her,
How can his Soule but wander all vnstaid
through worlds of ioy, although he cannot stirre!

When as a Cæsar (in all libertie)
bathing in Pleasures, or more sanguine Streames,
Vpon the Racke of Conscience bound, doth dye
extreamest Deaths, in midst of Sports extreames!

O didst thou know some poore spirits Rauishments,
when as (entranc'd) they feele vnbounded Blisse,
Crownes thou wouldst lothe, as crossing those contents,
and let the Crosse quite breake thy Backe for this!

It is not; no, it is not high estate
hath highest Pleasure; but it's onely those,
That, for those Pleasures, fading pleasures hate:
“but they in Hell, no other Heau'n suppose.

While outward Comforts compasse vs about
in Griefes pursuite, we to those Comforts flye;

[149]

But when they breake the Ring, we straight run out,
to finde more fixed ioyes, or (ioylesse) dye.

Then is that sowre Affliction highly blest
that more Perfection brings (like Ligatures,
That hurt to heale, and wring but for our rest)
so, they are blest whom Wals from wracke immures

We Pris'ners are within Heau'ns outward Wals,
and are, by Nature, all condemn'd to die;
To Death we must, when Death (our Heads-man) cals,
some to dye gently; some, more violently.

And though our Prison be as wish we would,
and may, perhaps, therein goe where we will,
Yet (like the strucken Fish) we are in hold;
and are in hold to him that sure will kill.

But here's the ods; those in close-prison pend,
are there with Death much more familiar made;
So that, in fauor, he their griefes doth end
for endlesse ioyes and peace which cannot fade!

But, those that (loosely) haue the World at will,
doe take their swinge, as Fish (if hang'd) desire,
Till they be tirde with Pleasure, paining still,
then gently come to Hand; so, to the Fire.

And see how those that (care consum'd) doe climbe
at Sternes of State (still menac'd to be riu'n)

150

How publicke Toyles engrosse their priuate time,
that they can scarse a Moment spare for Heau'n.

And publicke Persons (if they mightie be)
the publicke state, and theirs, they still must eye:
So, to their Soules they scarse haue time to soe;
which, so neglected, oft vnwares doe dye.

Then (noble Lord) if in thy selfe confinde,
thou art most happy thus confinde to be:
And sith our Bodyes doe but Jaile our Minde,
while we haue Bodyes, we can ne'er be free.

Then, if thou weigh'st the volubilitie,
of Time, or Fauour, Fortune, or this ALL,
Thou wilt but lothe their loose vncertaintie:
for, hardly Ought doth rise, but soone to fall.

Who rul'd this Realme three thousand yeeres agone?
so many rul'd it since, that none doth know.
“A Flow-mans bloud, in time, ascends a Throne;
“And Royall Bloud descends vnto the Plow.

Yet, that King knowes not from the Cart he came;
much lesse that Carter knowes he came from Kings:
“But Times vicissitude is Fortunes game,
whose Rest puts vp and downe all earthly Things!

Then if wee looke on Life; how fraile is that?
resembled to a shadow of a Dreame;

[150]

To smoake, t'a thought, to nought, t'I wot not what,
farre lesse then nought, that can so much as seeme!

A Grape-seede one, an Haire another spils:
some Smoak doth choake; meer neesing some destroy:
Some other Choler; and, some laughter kils:
some feare; & (which is strange) some die with ioy!

So that when our last Graine, is running out,
no Graine so small but turnes our flesh to dust;
Be we as Giants, strong; as Lyons, stout;
all's lesse then nothing, then to nought we must.

The Graue (too like a Ierfe) doth nought but fill
his greedy Panch, & straight out-straines the same:
Then fill againe, then straine; then fill it still,
till it all Flesh consumes that Nature frames.

One rots therein to giue another place;
a second to a third, and so, forth on:
Till Earth yeeld vp her dead; and she embrace,
her funerall flame to leaue Corruption.

Then, sith that Life and Flesh so soone decay,
why should our flesh with life be long in loue?
This world is but an Inne; this Life, a Way;
(a wrackfull way) that Wisedome lothes to proue.

Which hath, of yore, made Kings to quit their Crownes
the lighter, so, the Way of life to runne:

151

Directed, by the Crosse (o'er Dales and Downes)
in priuate Pathes, the publike Toyles to shunne.

We (like to Fooles or Babes) for Bables long,
wherewith we hurt our selues and others oft;
Yet straight we whyne if they from vs be wroong,
our Natures, towards Folly, are so soft.

But our all-wise-celestiall-louing Sire
takes, or keepes from his Children which he loues,
All that may harme them, though they it desire,
but giues, though it displease them, what behoues.

Some long for State, and what is that but strife,
more full of trouble, then it is of State;
(With dangers mixt) a simple Hell of life;
which none doe loue, but those that rest doe hate?

Some loue to beare the most imbrued Swords
before the Maiestie of Victory;
And what are they but Butchers made of Lords,
that (like fiends) Lord it o'er Calamitie?

Some hidden Artes doe openly desire
and seeke for knowledge onely to be knowne;
But knowledge such, is light but of Hell-fire,
to see (with Eue) such Prides confusion.

Some fame affect, and for it venter farre,
seeking by Sea and Land the same finde;

[151]

“But Fame most followes those that flee from her;
and, oft who meets her, she o'erthrowes with wind.

In summe, both all and some (ô strangest Case!)
haue hurtfull humours, which (if not restrain'd
By him that is the Lord of pow'r, and Grace)
all would to nought, where Grace should ne'er be gain'd

Then, if our Flesh and Sinne-corrupted Blouds
could rightly feele, they well might see that Hand
That made vs, will not marre vs with his goods;
vnlesse our selues his powerfull Grace with-stand.

Our dearest Sense is Sight; yet if the same
offend that Grace, we must pull out our Eyes:
Then must we Limbes, of lesse account, vnframe,
much more Things lesse, if they against It rise.

“The greatest Crosse is neuer to be crost;
“the Way to Heau'n is by the Ports of Hell;
“The Waters most corrupt, that least are tost;
“and their account exceedes, who most excell!

Hee's rich enough for Vertues choisest friend,
that neither needes to flatter, nor to borrow:
To lade our Backes with Baggage till they bend
(wandring in stumbling-wayes) augments our sorrow

“Abundance is a Burden to the Soule,
and strongest Soules can hardly it abide:

152

For, Men that, being meane, could Pride controule,
be'ing mightie made, are most controul'd by Pride.

Nature's suffiz'd with Nothing, in respect
of that our Wolfe-like Appetites require;
And they as Naturals great-men reiect,
whose Soules haue not the pow'r of great Desire.

“But greatest Men haue not still greatest Grace;
(ah would they had, then shouldst thou soone be free
From thy restraint) and all desires are base
of Greatnesse, that with Goodnesse disagree.

I wade too farre (perhaps) in Dangers Deepes,
that may o'erwhelme the rash, though ne'er so tall;
But Truth's my Guide; and, Care my Footing keepes
on double Duties Ground, and firme in all!

Yet wot how ill it stands with Policie,
to fancy those whom Times disfauour most;
Sith Fancies such, acquire but Ielousie
(if not much worse) of those that rule the Roste.

For, Wise-men shift their Sailes as Winde doth shift,
and, but whom Fortune fauours, fauour none:
For, if Kings haue with Fortune beene at shrift,
they leaue them to their Penance post alone.

But I conceiue it a prodigious Sinne,
(like that of Iudas (Peters I would say)

[152]

Who left his Lord when trouble he was in,
which (in effect) is meerely to betray.

I feare not Iustice, sith shee doth command,
that we should loue our friends in spight of Fate;
And, to the Alter, with them goe or stand,
though we might (therefore) be o'erthrowne with hate.

Then Iustice warrants me in what I doe;
and I will doe but what selfe-Iustice would:
That's loue my Liege, obey and serue him too;
yet loue that Lord that likes me as I should.

Let him haue neuer friend that leaues his friend,
in shew of sound affection, in distresse:
And let high'st Wit to lowest Hell descend,
that weighs ought more then some friends heauines.

Let those that waite on Fortune weigh the Times
in Scoles of greatest Sculs, I, little i,
Doe little weigh the wayes how other climbes,
sith I would liue as longing well to dye.

Beyond my Birth, hath Fortune beene my foe,
she neuer yet so much as smiled on me;
No force, sith I my selfe the better know;
and see the World while me it doth not see.

Feare they her frowns, that care but for her fawnes;
I feare, nor care for neyther: (being white

153

With Cares and Feares) for my Graue open yawnes
to swallow me to saue me, from her spight.

Enough (great Lord) my Proheme is a Feast,
whereat my Muse doth surfet with sowre-sweetes;
Hard to receiue, and harder to digest,
where loue and rashnesse, Rime and Reason meetes;
But if they meet with Griefe that meets with thee,
I grieue with ioy: for, thou art fast and free.

A Dumpe, or Swans-song.

All in a gloomy shade of Sicamour,
that did his leaues extend (like Shields) to beare,
The Beames of Phebus, darted in his pow'r,
at those that vnderneath them shrowded were)

I me reposed, while my Thoughts did range
here, there, & eu'ry wher, wher thoghts might roame;
So, by their change at last, my latest change
became their Subiect, with my latest Home.

And when, with Trauell, they themselues had tyr'd,
I likewise tir'd with life (that stirr'd them) too,
Thus flasht I out, (with sacred fury fir'd)
and my thoughts Bottome thus did I vndoe.

[153]

Why long I longer here to liue in death?
for life, if mortall, dyeth all the while:
Be'ing but a puffe, but of the weakest Breath;
yet, blowes me (Weakenesse) into strong Exile.

As soone as borne, was I condemn'd to dye;
since when, Time hath but executed me;
Yet life prolongs in dying misery;
so, yet I am as those that dying be.

To him that gaue me life, a death I owe;
which, sith I can, I must, and shall repay:
His Powr's as great to take as to bestow;
then will I pay him, though I quite decay.

I, dead in Sinne, his onely Sonne he slew,
to please his Iustice, and to make me liue:
Sith me he bought, Ile giue him then his due;
which had, I haue much more then that I giue.

Death soone will rid me from this lifes annoyes,
(Annoyes that nought can rid, saue death, from life)
And put me in possession of those Ioyes,
that are as farre from end, as free from strife!

And wer't not madnesse to repine, that I
had not had life when Eue did Adam wiue?
Then, tis but all alike to liue, and dye;
as tis, Not to haue liu'd, and not to liue.

154

Then, life IS not, that not immortall is;
for, mortall life is but Deaths other name:
Nor is that Blisse, that is not fearelesse Blisse;
nor glory, that is subiect still to shame.

The Dayes of Heau'n are datelesse; sith the Sunne
that makes them such, doth neither set nor rise;
But stands (as it shall, doth, and still hath done)
fixt in the Noone-stead of ETERNITIES.

Here one's the ruine of another Day,
while (like a ne'er-suffized Graue) the Night,
Doth bury both in silence; yet, doth prey
vpon them both, till both play least in sight.

“Death is the dore of life: so, would I liue?
then, through this dore to life, I needes must goe:
For, through this dore Death, LIFE it selfe did driue:
then, sith LIFE dide for life, I must doe so.

Two onely had the priuiledge to wend
another way to life that mortals were,
But twas in firy-Charets, to this end,
that Fire should flesh refine, yer it came there!

There, where all ioyes, vnited, are of force
(for, force vnited, stronger makes the same)
The spirit and flesh (both rauisht) to diuorce,
and melt their pow'rs in loues eternall flame.

[154]

What Lets shall let me then, from Paradise?
Mountaines of Gold, and Rockes of rarest stone,
Crossing my Way, I (trampling) will dispise,
if thither Hope but goe with me alone.

This WORLD's a Vale that ceaseles teares do spoile;
and make it so a Bog, or lothsome Lake:
Then who but Swine (that pleasure take in Soile)
will here (if they can choose) abiding make?

Heau'n is my Home; the HIGH'ST, my Father is;
his SONNE, my Brother; Angels, are my Friends:
Then while from Them I am, I am amisse;
and, lightly, misse the Meanes to so good Ends.

My Body's but the Prison of my Soule;
which straits her more, the more that Prison's free:
Time's but the Rocke that vp my Life doth rowle;
and Earth the Place where Heau'n spinnes it & me.

Here must I fight till Death for endlesse Life;
“The Chariot of my Triumph then, is Death:
Then (as I would be free from endlesse strife)
to mount this Chariot I must spend my Breath.

The ground whereon I tread's the ground of Griefe;
so that each step doth grieue me: for it is
A Sanguine-field, that beareth Hurts, in chiefe,
crost with sinister-bends; and All amisse.

155

Then here to bee, amisse is to be borne
in Dolors Field, to eu'ry foule Disgrace:
O Death then help my Soules house to adorne;
and let thine Armes be mine; for, lifes are base.

Am I not durt and dust? then, maruell is't
if I, but with a thought, be that or this?
A shadow by some substance, doth subsist:
but, all my substance, but a shadow is.

The Sunne doth rise and set; the Moone doth hold
a constant course in most vnconstant state:
The Earth now quick with heate, then dead with cold,
doth shew their plight that It preambulate.

Then ô yee Saints (whose Bellies being rife
with Waters both of life and grace) be yee
Pure Aquaducts, by, life, to bring me life
from the Well-head, that fill may you and mee.

The Graue (though wide it gape) dismayes me not,
sith tis the Gate of glory, rest, and peace:
And though therein my mortall Part must rot,
yet thence it springs with much more faire encrease.

If the last breath we call our Bodyes death,
then may we call the other Breathings deaths;
Sith Life and death doe come and goe with Breath,
we haue as many deaths, as we haue breaths.

[155]

Yet, twixt this life, and that we death doe call;
this ods there is; while life doth last, we dye:
But when Death comes, we die no more; but shall
by dying well, liue well immortally.

O then, looke how the Labourer for Night;
the Pilot, for the Port; and for the Inne
The Poast doth long: so doth my tired spright
(by death) still long for Life, and rest therein.

Death is my Hope: than feare not I his knife;
Feare is his Sting; but, Hope hath puld it out;
The mortall'st Wounds, immortall make my life:
then, better dye in Hope, then liue in Doubt.

If Death be painfull; then, is paine sustain'd
before, or, at the Article of Death:
But not before: for then, but thought is pain'd;
and at the instant it's but rest of breath.

So that in Death, is rest without disease:
then Death be kinde, and rest my life in thee:
While others, (that doe cast such summes as these)
these Cyphers summe, decyph'ring thee and mee.

And, Cyphers cast lifes Cyphers to, and fro,
that I their number (seene) may multiply:
Take nought from Nought, & nought remaines; & so,
the summe of All is lesse then vanitie.

156

Cyphers (not Numbers) call I them, because
they runne (sans number) roundly to the Graue:
At which my Muse, being now arriu'd, shall pause;
referring these to those that Science haue
To cast vp lifes accompt; and to fore-cast
the stricktnesse of Lifes great accompt at last.

ESSAIES.

The Foole hath said in his heart, there is no God.

Psal. 14. 1.

That God IS, no Man euer made a doubt;
if doubt some did, they did it not as Men:
For, faithlesse men, by meere sense, God finde out:
what are these senselesse God-deniers then?

They are not Fiends; for, they haue humane Soules;
and Fiends confesse, with feare, there is a God:
Much lesse, not Angels, Beasts, nor Fish, nor Fowles,
for, these praise God! What then? Eu'n their owne Rod.

Who doe themselues, tormentingly, confound;
hardning their Hearts; and, so, plague Sinne by Sinne:

[156]

Yet ioy in that which doth their Conscience wound:
is't possible such Creatures ere haue bin?
It's possible, for, such there be, God wot,
That know not God, because God knowes them not.

No pleasure to the pleasure of the Spirit.

Two Ioyes there are, whereof, the one is not;
of Flesh the one, that other of the Spirit:
The Spirits ioy is reall, actiue, hot;
but, that of flesh, is vaine, cold, dull and light.

How then can they be two, if but one Be?
one is; but is, but meerely in Conceit:
Which in Conceit, is forgde by Fantazie;
and whatsoe'er is forgde, is but deceit.

Yet in this meere deceit, most men conceiue
most pleasure to consist; and, it to buy,
They most essentiall perfect pleasures giue:
so, make their Iudgement giue their Sense the lye:
For, Sense could neuer tell, by her Receit,
That such Ioy Is, that is but in conceit.

157

Uanitie of Vanities, all is but Vanitie.

Eccles. 1. 2.

A mortall Eye can see but mortall Things;
and whatsoe'er is mortall, is but vaine:
Then all we see is vaine, though Crownes, or Kings;
yet Men will lose themselues, the same to gaine.

And yet, thy weene, they winne by so great losse;
ô corrupt Iudgement! Men made to be lost:
Who will all Vices (hatcht in Hell) engrosse,
them to retaile, to get but Care, with Cost.

It's said, Light gaine doth make an heauy Purse;
but, this light gaine doth make an heauy Heart:
To gaine all blessings, with Gods heauie Curse,
is too light gaine for such an heauy Thwart:
For, who doth purchase All at such a Price,
Doth buy but extreame Vanitie with Vice.

Fly vaine Pleasures, as Paines intollerable.

If Vanitie be All, and All be vaine,
how scapes he from this All, that's All in All?

[157]

It is, because He euer doth remaine,
the Cause of Causes metaphisicall.

Sith fiends immortall are, not vaine they are:
for Vanitie is but the Instrument
Wherewith, in sport, they doe this All ensnare,
to bring the same to Be as they are bent.

And, so, vnbend their being, and, distort
the euen Compasse that became their Forme:
So Vanitie them backward bends, in sport;
and, Sathan still, in sport, doth them deforme:
O then let All that would be bent aright,
Beware these sports, that doe distort them quite.

To the good, the Worst fals out for the Best.

The Crosse and Crowne, on Earth, our value try;
as Crownes alone, in Heau'n, our vertue crowne:
In Earth, if crown'd, we swell in Heart too hie,
and, vnder Crosses we lie basely downe.

But yet, if Grace doe Nature ouer-sway,
and that a Crosse, or Crowne, alike we beare,
A pride of Grace, our Nature, will bewray;
so, in our Nature, Sinne, though dead, doth steere.

158

And yet this Pride doth humble vs the more;
for when we mind it, griefe doth vs pursue:
So, is our Sore still cured by our Sore;
for, still we heale as we our griefe renew:
This, is a Worke of Nature; that of Grace;
And this and that, runnes with vs all our Race.

To the Lady Anne Glemmam, vpon the death of her noble Father.

To lye downe vnder Crosses, is to lye
in our Confusion: for, that's Cowardize;
And hath no taste of true Humilitie:
then, such prostration is an abiect Vice.

Nor is't the Way from Crosses to be free
to sinke beneath the Crosse, which weighes the more
The more we, vnder it, so, humbled be;
but HEE that bore your Sinnes It stoutly bore.

Yet is the Crosse impos'd to humble vs;
nor, is't remou'd, till we be humble made;
How much more low, so much more glorious;
(so as the Crosse doth vs not ouer-lade)
Then if we meeke be made, we winne by losse;
And cut a Crowne of Glory from the Crosse.

[158]

That to sinne finally malitiously, is irremissible.

The oftner Sinne, the more griefe, showes a Saint;
the oftner Sinne, the lesse griefe, notes a Fiend:
But to sinne oft, with griefe the Soule doth taint;
and, oft to sinne with Ioy, the Soule doth rend.

To sinne, on Hope, is Sinne most full of feare;
to sinne of malice, is the Diuels Sinne:
One is, that Christ may greater Burthen beare;
the other, that his Death might still beginne.

To sinne, of frailtie is a sinne; but, weake:
to sinne, in strength, the stronger makes the blame:
The first, the Reede, Christ bare, hath pow'r to break;
the last, his Thorny Crowne, can scarse vnframe:
But, finally, to sinne malitiously,
Reede, Crowne, nor Crosse hath pow'r to crucifie!

That mortall Life is a mortall Plague.

This Life, of ours, is call'd Life most amisse;
which may be tearm'd, more truely, lifes disease;

159

Whose perfect'st Pleasures are oppos'd to Blisse,
and, greatest paines grow from her greatest ease.

One, hath the Plague, we say, and he will dye,
that yet may liue; then much more may we say,
That One hath Life, and Death he cannot flye:
for, Life's a Sicknesse mortall eu'ry way.

Doth mortall life, then, bring the mortall'st death?
then, no Disease so mortall as it is:
A Plague of Plagues then, is our mortall breath;
yet mortall Men would still be plagu'd with this:
Though Life be Plague of Plagues, yet this desire,
Is the high'st Plague, whereto no Plagues aspire.

Too much Honie breakes the Belly.

Sweet honied Life, thinkes one, that Honie draines
from bloomes of Helebore (this vaine Worlds-wealth)
Which, though It breakes his Belly, yet his paines
seeme, to his Appetite, true Signes of Health.

O bewitcht iudgement! Senses rest of Sense!
deeme yee that sweet, that yeelds Effects so sowre?
That spoiles the Will and soiles th' Intelligence?
and Soule and Body, quite, in dung, deuoure?

[159]

Yet, those whose Spirits are turn'd to grossest flesh,
nay, those whose flesh seemes turn'd to purest sp'rit
Are thus bewitcht; which Sweetes their Sense refresh;
who sting like Waspes, if them they lose by might:
If thus they fare by whom the World is led,
What meruell though in sweete Sinne It be dead?

The Foole makes a mocke of Sinne.

Pro. 14.9.

Who laughes at Sin; for Sin can hardly weepe:
who jests thereat, is mad, or misbeleeues:
Then, sith the World still laughes at Debt so deepe,
it showes it madly sinnes; and neuer grieues.

Sinne is a Stinger; and who feeles it not
is mortifide, not to, but in fowle Sinnes:
Then, doth the World, in Sinne, but stincke and rot;
for, it feeles not when Sinne ends, or beginnes.

If it doe stincke, what Nose can it abide?
if it doe rot, what Eye, or Taste, or Touch
Can be content by them it should be tride?
Then onely Hearing heares it without grutch:
And that's because the Dead, in silence, cry
Cave to those, that, liuing, are to dye:
Then they that loue it, in such lothsome plight,
Haue neither Sense, nor Reason, Flesh, nor Spright.

160

The World is in a desperate plight, for which Christ refused to pray.

Bvt if the World be dead, God owes it not;
for of the liuing, He is God alone:
And, if not Gods, it is the Diuels Lot;
which bounded is with the chiefe Corner-STONE.

From that Stone vpwards, all to God belongs;
and from it, downewards, all the Diuels is:
For, God, being iust, the Diuell neuer wrongs;
but; lets him haue his due; as He hath His.

Then, to be Gods, is still to rest thereon:
but who can rest there, that God doth not stay?
Then, sith the World refus'd this Corner Stone,
God, for the World, refused but to pray:
O wofull World, how canst thou merry be,
That so forsook'st him, that so leaueth thee?

[160]

That all Heresies are grounded on the infallible Scriptures erroniously interpreted.

Each Bible-bearing Sectarie will say
hee's in the Truth; and proues it by her Word:
Thus, is the Word of Truth wrencht eu'ry way;
and made a Text that Falshood doth afford.

Yet, Truth's but one, though Falshood's manifold;
and when Truths Saints, with her Word, do conspire
To finde her out; that Truth embrace we should,
though we should mount to her in Coach of fire.

No Exposition of the Truth is true,
but what Truth makes her friends, alone, to make:
Who know Her best, and what to Her is due;
but, fooles, wise in their owne Eyes, both mistake:
For many Eagles Eyes haue better sight
Then one blinde Bats, that hardly see the light.

161

That the Eye is Sinnnes Burning-glasse, working vpon the Heart and Soule.

As Sinne's most conuersant with outward Sense;
so is she most familiar with the Eye:
For, shee sits in the eyes Concupiscence
as in her Throne of greatest Maiestie.

From eyes, to eyes, Sinne doth, in triumph, Tilt:
(a firie Serpent, clad in siluer Rayes:)
The end of whose Carreere is, where her guilt
makes blacke the Soule with Dolor and Dispraise.

Heuah first sinn'd: but, ere her Heart, her Eye
did Sinne commit; and all the lustfull Crue
Melt in that Sunne, like Yee, vntill they dye:
yet, like dead Flies, those Rayes, their liues renue:
Then, sith this Sunne exhales such Humours ill,
We must with Sorrowes Clouds, eclipse It still.

To take is to giue; for a Gift, Liberty.

Ovr Mouthes runne o'er with false Superlatiues,
in praising him, though bad, that did vs good;

[161]

Which are nought else, but true demonstratiues
of the Corruption of our basest bloud.

For, Pride can giue as much as Charitie:
and Tyranny as much as Mercy can:
But, who applauds or Pride or Tyranny,
doe Monsters praise, the Minde doth make the Man.

Then shall we take no good gifts of the lad?
I say not so: and yet, I say, who will
Take Kingdomes of the Diu'll, are worse than mad;
for He doth good to no man, but for ill:
Then sith, for Gifts, Men giue their Libertie,
Such Gifts binde Takers oft to villanie.

Againe, of the same.

And yet blinde Iustice sees her Sword to sheath,
if any offer her a Sheath of Gold;
Nay, high and hardy Hands oft sincke beneath
the abiect Gift and Giuer, to vphold.

There's nought more free than gift: yet nought more ties
the Hand, that takes them, to the Giuers will:
And yet (ah woe therefore) some godly-wise,
take Gifts, as good: and giue, as gifts were ill.

Were I a Diuell, yet were I liberall,
(in this damn'd Age) I would be seru'd with Saints:

162

For, if I sent bright Angels to them all,
they would adore me, maugre all restraints:
But, were I God, if Gold were not my Friend,
Pure Saints, in shew, would lothe me like a Fiend.

To him that hath, shall be giuer; and from him that hath not, shall be taken away, that which it seemes he hath.

Mat. 25. 29.

His Word is Truth, that said, to him that hath,
shall still be giuen; and, from him that lackes
Shall be withdrawne that which he holds, with scath;
so, this World makes men, made; & marr'd men, wracks.

Who least doth lacke, hath most bestow'd on him;
for God and Men giue richest gifts to Kings:
So, he that doth in all abundance swimme,
each Hand to him much more Abundance brings.

What meanes this Mysterie so mysticall!
what! World, begin'st thou now, with Age, to dote,
That Thou dost giue some All; some, nought at all:
and, sinck'st some, sincking, to make swimmers flote?
I know now what this meanes; but, this I know,
Tis too much to be loth'd, to be too low.

[162]

Of the Neglect of Arte and Vertue. To mine ingenious, deere, and well-accomplish'd Friend, Mr. Iohn Sandford, of Magdalen-Colledge in Oxford.

Goe, forlorne Vertue, into Eden goe;
and, with Leaues, hide thine outward nakednes:
Though tis their shame, not thine, that made thee so;
there make Worke for the Presse, far from the Presse.

Tell Times to come, how much these Times neglect Thee,
in Lines as far from death, as free from dread:
And, make their Ofsprings blush that doe reiect Thee;
yea, liue in shame when their Shames Cause is dead.

With open Hand to All, thy Largesse throw;
though All are too straite-handed, vnto Thee:
Make them, them selues, and thee, aright, to know;
that in thy shining Lines they, both, may see:
But, if they will be blinde, and both still wrong,
Eden still keepe, and sing a Sion Song.

163

Yee haue made a mocke of the counsell of the Poore.

Psal. 14. 10.

The Wisedome of the Poore, is still mispriz'd,
sith by their Wealth, Mens Wits are valued:
Speake he like Salomon, hee's ill aduis'd,
say some, that vnderstood not what he said.

But if he be an Isis-bearing Asse,
and speake what he himselfe, nor none conceiues,
His Praise shall, as his Folly doth, surpasse;
and speakes, as he no place for answere leaues.

Yet had some Kings, some Beggers in a place,
where he might not be seene, to vse their Wit,
(If it were Soueraigne, though his state were base)
this Sou'raigne would, of him, perhaps, beg It:
Which when He vents, the Peoples voyce is than,
This is the voyce of God, and not of Man!

Against Fortune-tellers, commonly called, Wise-men.

Sith all our Knowledge from our Senses comes,
which oft mistake, then must our Wisedome needs

[163]

Mistake, as oft as Error ouer-comes
our Knowledge, that from erring Sense proceedes.

Then all our Wisedome must be most vnsure,
as are the grounds from whence the same doth grow;
Yet some great Wise men hardly can endure
that God should know that, which they do not know.

And, sith they know, they know not as they ought;
more then they ought they seeme to know, at least;
These are the Wise-men that by Fooles are sought,
to shew euents to come to giue them rest:
On whom they doe bestow a Wise-mans see,
Which these wise Seers, onely, doe fore-see.

Sinfull Curiositie had rather be acquainted with the Diuell, then with God, or his Saints.

Haue any made a Cou'nant with blacke Hell,
and are Familiar with infernall Sprights?
They shall be sought to, wheresoe'er they dwell;
for, many Soules desire to see those sights.

But liues Elias (most familiar
with God and Heau'n) where great ones most frequent,
He liues as in his firie Coach he were;
for, none comes neere so meere an Innocent.

164

Thus doth the Diuell Lord it o'er the Aire,
and those that most doe prize It; while his slaues
Are more sought to then Saints or Angels faire,
though such Fiends bideing be among the graues:
Then, what so senselesse, as the World, to take
Delight in Diu'ls, and in Hell, for their sake?

Againe, of the same.

Were Bacon, and that Vandermast aliue,
(if liue they did where Men might draw but Aire)
They, with a mischiefe, wold much more than thriue;
for, they would smothred be with Mens repaire.

Some Bladuds would inuest them with their Robes,
nay, Crowne them too, to learne them but to flye:
That so they might but glide about the Globes,
to be admir'd for Iack-dawes qualitie.

So much Men, singularitie affect,
that to be singular, (though but in Toyes)
They'l freely giue what they doe most respect;
so much their inward Man, loues outward Ioyes:
Nay, Men to Hell will creep from out the Croude,
Ere they'l be drowned in the Multitude.

[164]

That Persecutors of Truth, are their owne Tormentors.

If Vertues Sonnes be plagu'd with Vices Broode,
(sith they, by Nature, still doe disagree)
It's for the vicious plague, and vertuous good;
which both shall here, or else-where, shortly see.

If our good life, our Enemies encrease,
that bad encrease, in that great good, is drown'd;
Who fight against themselues, but for our Peace;
and, through our Weeds, their Hearts and Soules do wound!

Our Sauiour, through his Death, did Death subdue,
to make vs conquer by enduring strife:
Then, what though They, to Death, doe vs pursue,
when, through our Death, they dye to giue vs life?
But with such proofes, none but such Saints are prou'd
That of his Iudge, in death, was fear'd and lou'd.

The righteous, in Ioy or Griefe, Life, or Death, God keepes as his Treasure.

Fell Malice most of her owne Poison drinkes;
for them she plagues, doe sippe but of the toppe;

165

But she of that, which to the Bottome sinckes,
to worke in Her Perdition, without Hope.

Impietie and Plagues are of an age;
being burnt, not in the Hand, but in the Heart:
For, who against the good doe battaile wage,
shall perish through his pow'r that takes their part.

And, if, for vertue, Men are made away,
God takes for sacrifice, their sufferings:
But when, by course of Nature, they decay,
he then receiues them as Peace-offerings:
So that in life and death, the righteous rest,
As th'Apple of his Eye, as safe, as blest.

That mens Deuotions towards God and Goodnesse, are most mutable.

Nought in our Life endures so many Turnes,
as our Deuotion; off, on, in, and out;
Now, cold as Yee, and by and by It burnes,
scarse in one moode, while we can turne about.

If good we heare, perhaps we thinke thereon;
but be it ill, ill (past perhaps) we minde:
Thus, rowle we euer, like a thriftlesse stone,
till Death vs stay by force, or Course of kinde.

[165]

From Sinne to Sinne, as Flies from sore to sore,
we still doe shift; the best Men, Men are still;
The worst are worse than Beasts, to kill, or store;
for, they are leaue in good, but fat in ill:
Then blest are they, that neyther fat nor leaue,
Haue rowl'd to Rest, but with the Golden-meane.

To my most honored and approued best Friend, and Alye, Sr. Fran: Louell, Knight.

God takes the Will for the Deede.

Although we doe not all the good we loue,
but still, in loue, desire to doe the same;
Nor leaue the Sinnes we hate; but, bating, moue
our Soule and Bodyes Pow'rs their force to tame;

The good wee doe, God takes as done aright;
that we desire to doe, He takes as done:
The Sinne we shunne, He will with Grace requite;
and not impute the Sinne we seeke to shunne!

But good Desires produce no worser Deedes;
for, God doth both together (lightly) giue:
Because He knowes a righteous Man must needes
by Faith that workes by Loue, for euer liue:
then, to doe nought, but onely in desire,
Is Loue that burnes, but burnes like painted fire.

166

The Vertuous, liue well for Vertues sake; the Vicious, for feare of Punishment.

Three things, in Iudgement, haue obserued bin,
to work with wicked ones, shame, griefe, & feare:
And yet without shame, griefe, or feare, they sinne,
till Iudgement (strict) beginneth to appeare.

If Iudgement then, haue force t'extort these three;
they haue no Iudgement, that will not preuent
This sore Extortion, with an easie see;
that is, liue well; if not, then, well repent.

But are these two performed with such ease?
Gods Yeake is easie, and his burden light:
And such as cannot well away with these,
can neyther liue well, nor repent aright:
But it they cannot, much lesse can they beare,
What Iudgement wil extort, shame, griefe, & feare.

That there is no peace to the Wicked.

The Wickeds rest is like the raging Deepe,
whose smoothest Peace is rough intestine War:

[166]

With whose Alar'ms they often start in sleepe;
whose Heart-strings, with such fretting Stops, doe iarre

Yet as the Sea seemes calme, as other Brookes,
till Windes arise, wherewith they rage as mad;
So, oft the Wicked-man as smoothly lookes
in prosperous state, as he whom God doth glad.

And in this plight, he Saint it can aswell
(at least in shew) as can the holiest Saint:
Yea, can (for glory) in Good-workes excell;
and, Pietie in Word and Deed depaint:
But when Afflictions flawes beginne to blow,
He playes the Diuell both in Deed and Show.

That a vexed Conscience is the onely Hell on Earth.

The Bodies rest doth most disease the Soule,
that is diseased with Sinnes sorest Sting:
For then the Thoughts about that Pricke doe roule,
and to the Soule an Hell of Horror bring!

The Minde then looking into Fancies Mirrour,
sees nothing there but Sinne that sits a-Broode
On grimme Chimæraes, and sights full of horror,
so to confound the Minde, or mad her mood.

167

For, when Sinne onely fronts the Phantasie;
that Glasse reflects these horrid Formes, by kinde,
Then, when the body most alone doth lye,
these Monsters muster most about the Minde.
O! Plague of plagues, when Sense nor Reas'n can spye
A Reall Obiect from a Phantasie!

Phantasie a great Comforter, or Tormenter.

Giue me Iobs Botches, Naamans Leprosie,
nay, giue me All that plagues the outward sense,
Rather then Terrors of the Phantasie,
crawling from out an Hell of Conscience.

And giue me all the Hels the Damn'd endure,
(this Hell alone excepted) I will be
Able to make them Heau'ns, in Conscience pure,
through Operations of the Phantasie.

Asleepe, awake, in Company, alone,
past-vnderstanding Peace, and Ioyes past Ioy,
In our Mindes Kingdome, then, themselues enthrone,
to ouer-sway the Paines that Flesh annoy:
Then, is this Peace and War, true Heau'n & Hell,
Where Paine and Pleasure doe themselues excell.

[167]

A wounded Conscience, who can beare?

Salues , Sores doe cure; and Medicines, Maladies:
Friendship, Oppression; Wised me, poore Estate:
Fauour, Restraint; and Time, Captiuities;
Good life, Reproch; and louing Manners, Hate:

But, these, nor ought else, that are blest, or best,
(except the Highest grace) haue pow'r to cure
A wounded spirit (with Sadnesse still opprest)
but It doth Death out-liue, and Hell out dure.

Were our Meate, Manna, our Weedes, Salomons;
Monarchies. our Friends; and Eden, our Free-bold;
Our Guardes, Goliahs; our Seates, highst Thrones;
our Houses Siluer, hung with Pearle and Gold:
All these, and all what else can Sense delight
Doe rather kill, than cure a wounded Spirit.

Death makes Things appeare as they are.

Enuy and Anger haue some Wise-men kil'd;
(though in those Passions we hold no man wise)

As fauour and base flatt'ry Fooles haue spild;
for, with them both, we Fooles doe Nestorize.

But when these moodes are, with the Parties, dead,
then, were they Fooles, who wer so wise while-ere:
And, They most wise that Fooles were reckoned;
thus, Death doth make Things, as they are, appeare.

Flatt'ry adornes Mens Fortunes, not the Men;
and Enuy, not their Persons, but their Fames
Doth seeke to wound: so, it appeareth then,
that Wise nor Fooles haue here their proper Names:
But in the Fout of Death they doe receiue
Their naked Names which their true Natures giue.

God and Conscience tels truely what we are; and are not as we seeme.

What thou art, aske thine Hart, and it wil show;
or, aske a Foe, that Conscience makes to lie;
But aske thou not Selfe-loue which cannot know:
nor, aske a Friend, which can no fault espie.

If we could see our selues, then should we see
that we are nothing lesse then what we seeme;
Yet, some seeme farre worse than in Deed they be;
and therefore All; this Some doe not esteeme.

[61]

For, we know nothing wholy, but in part;
and, vnderstand but, what we know, by Sense:
We see the Face, but cannot see the Heart:
then showes betray our best Intelligence:
This makes all wise men, that such Secrets know,
To winne the World; a Shadow, with a Show.

That Truth, being One and still the same, is made by wicked men to countenance Falshood, which is manifold, and still vnlike

When Peace & Truth do iarre, Peace is not peace:
then, Peace, in Truth, is that we should ensue:
Now, for this Truth, what Warres and Iarres encrease,
these Times doe feele, and After-times may rue.

Yet, no Man's so vniust, that will auerre,
he fights for Falshood; but, for Truth and Right:
So, iust, some say, is eu'ry vniust Warre:
thus, Truth is made to countenance each Fight.

Who euer yet for Heresie hath dide,
but saith, for Truth he dies, and so beleeues?
Or, what Sect saith not, Truth is on their side?
so, Truth is made a Diuell, that deceiues:
But Truth is God, vnmade, who, in the end,
Will damne them all, that make him such a Fiend,

169

That we are naturally bent to Ill, but supernaturally to Goodnesse.

Twixt Sinne and Grace, I tost am to, and fro,
as mine Affections please to bandy me:
From Grace, to Sinne I flye; but, backe, I goe;
and yet I goe as one that faine would flee.

Nature doth moue the Wings of my Desire
to Sinne wards nimbly; but, not so to Grace:
For, then she limes them with my fleshes myre,
that I am forc'd to passe an heauy pace.

Yet still I stirre those Wings, and seeke to breake
faile fleshes Bands; too strong, for me (too fraile)
Who though, sometimes, I faile of what I seeke,
yet seeke I what I finde, and neuer faile:
For, none seekes Grace that hath not Grace in hold:
Then, Seekers find, though oft lesse then they would.

Abuse is familiar with humane Flesh and Bloud.

Minding this World, I muse at what I minde,
though It vnworthy be of Minde or Muse:

[169]

I muse that Men are to It so inclinde,
sith It mindes nought, but how Men to abuse.

From high to low Abuse doth proudly raigne;
from which the Preist, that leads all, is not free:
The Holy hold the Holy in disdaine,
if with their state, their states doe not agree.

Vertue, or Vice are held or good or ill,
as, in this World, they thriue or ill, or well:
For, Vice is honor'd more then Vertue still,
if Vices Mannors, Vertues doe excell:
If Manors good, doe what good Maners ought,
(That's make men great) great men are made of nought.

That it is farre better not Be, then to be Ill.

The World (the Wombe where all misdeeds are bred)
breedes in my little-World such great offence,
That my Soule, great with Sinne's deliuered
of Griefe, that gaules my bleeding Conscience:

The Mid-wife Flesh, that did the same produce,
giues it the Nurse, curst Nature, it to feede:
And fattens It with full-Breasts of Abuse;
so, Griefe growes great, with Natures grosse misdeeds.

170

O Nature, Nurse of my Soules foule Disgrace!
ô World, the Nurse of that Nurse (grounds of grief)
Why doe you giue me being, time, and place
sith you doe worse then kill me with reliefe?
For, that reliefe that doth but nourish Sinne,
Makes our Case worse, then if we ne'er had bin.

Sinne and Grace cannot dwell in one place.

If Faith beleeu'd that Creede that Essence giues her,
then would she giue the Soule what that doth giue:
Faith's made to know, and doe that which relieues her;
for, by her actiue knowledge she doth liue!

But oft the Soule (though Faith be still her Ghest)
makes Sinne her Steward to prouide her Foode:
How then can Faith such banefull Bits digest,
which but contaminate her vitall Bloud?

Can Faith and Sinne (if they be full in force)
dwell (as if friends they were) in one weake Heart?
No: one will other from the same diuorce;
for, Sou'raignes part with life, ere Lordship part:
Then, want of Faith, with grosse Sin is supplide;
For, Nature vacuum could ne'er abide.

[170]

In rainy-gloomy Weather.

This Weather's like my troubled Minde and Eyes:
the one, being sad; the other, full of Teares;
And, as Winde oft the often Showrings dryes:
so, Sighes my Teares dry vp, and kindle Cares.

Sighes please, and paine the displeas'd painfull Heart;
they please in giuing vent to Griefes vp-pent;
And yet the Heart, they ease, they cause to smart:
so, Griefes encrease as Sighes doe giue them vent.

But were my Minde thus sad but for my Crimes,
and mine Eyes turn'd to Teares for cause so deare;
Or, did my Heart for that sith often-times,
my Sighes, my Teares, my Sadnesse blessed were:
But tis, sith Hope, my Ship, through Fates crosse-waue,
Now grates vpon the Grauell of my Graue.

Our Wits are vnable to please our Wils.

This Life is but a Laborynth of Ils,
whose many Turnings so amaze our Mindes:

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that out of Them our Wit no issue findes,
But what our Sense commands, our Wit fulfils.

Yet Sense (being tired with deceitfull Ioyes
that fleete as soone as felt) prouokes the Wit
to cast about those Turnes to pleasure it,
Which findes new Pleasures lin'd with old Annoyes.

So, that when Sense and Wit are at a Stand
in quest of Pleasures vaine variëty,
they are so cloid with their saciëtie,
That Will is wearyed with her owne Command:
Thus, in this Life, or Laborynth of Ils,
We toile our Wits in vaine, to please our Wils.

To my most deare, and no lesse worthily-beloued Friend and Pupill, Henry Mainwarring Esquier, with the truely-noble and venterous Knight Sr. Henry Thynne, accompanying, into Persia, the meritoriously-farre-renowmed Knight, Sr. Robert Sherley, Englishman; yet, Lord Ambassadour sent from the great Persian Potentate, to all Christian Princes, for the good of Christendome.

Heroicke Pupill, and most honor'd Friend,
to thee, as to my Moitie, I bequeath
Halfe th'other halfe; beginning, at mine end,
to make (I hope) me triumph ouer Death.

[171]

My Sonne (sole Sonne; and, all I euer had)
vnto thy Care and Seruice I commend;
So, make me Sonnelesse, till you make me glad
with your Returne from this Worlds further end.

The Absence of so deare a Sonne as thou,
must needes affect thine honor'd Sire with Griefe;
But, for thy good, he doth his Griefe subdue:
so, doe I mine, by his, sith his is chiefe:
Then, with my Sonne, take thou my Hart and these
Celestiall Charmes, in Stormes, to calme the Seas.

Rob not the Poore, because he is poore; neyther wrong him in Iudgement.

Pro. 22. 22.

Though Words with Wisedome richly be attirde,
yet, if their Speaker be not rich withall,
They will be rather scorned, then admir'd;
or thought, through Enuyes spight most criminall.

But Words pronounced by Authoritie,
(though no Authoritie doth them approue)
Are held for Oracles of Deitie;
and, quoted, as rich Scriptures, Truth to proue!

Thus Wisedome rare, without a Fortune rich,
is a rich Gift that gets but poore regard:
For, Wisedomes lowest voyce, or highest Pitch,
if her Pipe be but meane, can ne'er be heard:

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For, the Worlds Eares, though wide, no voyce can heare
That comes not from a Pipe, as deare as cleare.

To my worthy, witty, long-approued, and beloued Friend, Mris Ioyce Ieffreies.

Let vs heare the end: Feare God, and keepe his Commandements: for this is the whole duty of man. Eccles. 12. 13.

Many a weary Winter haue I past
since first our eyes strange-lookes did interchange:
But now (deare Friend, that is; as kinde, as fast)
Time, in Lifes Reere, or vitall-Powres doth range.

My Layes of Loue, are now turn'd all to Psalmes
and Hymnes addrest to Heau'n; which my yong dayes
Did most offend: Then, now, I craue this Almes,
that thou, for me, on These, our God wilt praise.

When Time, and Thwarts haue taught the humbled-sp'rit
that all, saue loue and feare of God, is vaine;
By Grace and Nature we take most delight
in paines, which may preuent eternall paine:
Then, if thy Will doe match thy Wit (deare Friend)
On these Feete maist thou trauell to that END.

[172]

The Conclvsion.

Lo here an end of these our Muses Flights,
which aymed at Mans End, or chiefest GOOD;
But if too wilde shee were, in heau'nly Heights,
let her be made to know it, by the Whood.

If her Desire too high hath made her rise,
(though lesse than God contents not that Desire)
Of Christ, and of his Church she mercy cryes;
and, humbly, stoupes to what they doe require.

Yea, prostrate, she doth fall; nay, vailes her Necke
vnder his Spouse (the Church) her sacred Feete;
Submitting all her Soarings to her Checke;
and ready to reforme what shee thinkes meete:
If she hath rightly fled, God made that Flight:
If not, she prayes the Church to make it right.

But, knew I ought offensiue to her Eare,
My Teares should blot It, yer It mended were.

FINIS.