University of Virginia Library



THE MINDE OF THE Frontispiece.

Time censures all things, Darknes envies Time,
Light from above, doth in its beautie shine,
Discovering sinfull plots; 'cause 'tis divine,
True Life is honoured, finding out the crime.
Th' impartiall Judge foreshewes the horrid fate,
That Sinne and Death will be unfortunate.
Bold Ignorance doth plead: with Sinne he'll dwell.
Death brings Attornies for to plead his cause,
The Grave-maker being idle, blames the Lawes,
The Divell takes his vassall backe to hell.
All their defence does prove but emptie breath,
Sinnes by the sinner slaine, Life conquers Death.


TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, MY VERY good Lord, Thomas Earle of Winchelsee, &c.


To The Reader.

Good Readers, still in silence doe passe by,
The faults incident to humanitie,
And in the inward Chamber of the heart,
A Lodging findes, and takes all in good part.
These precious lines, by wisedome were obtain'd
From him that govern's still the starres unstain'd.
And now by whom, he doth the truth declare,
Observer he of time, is it not rare.
And in the eye of such as light doe hate,
Which hell hath hardned, and made obstinate,
Emptie darknesse waites on them at noone,
Like Egypt dogs, they'l barke still at the Moone.
But where there's grace compos'd with policy.
Heavens influence waiting constantly,
About the heart, that he shall so indite,
Matter sweet for the soule, or hand to write.
If instances for witnesse be produc'd,
The wise will conclude, that time is abus'd.


But now the Authour of this lively booke,
Studently, ingeniously, hath forsooke,
The windie froth, and vaine glorious sound,
Can have no footing here, upon this ground.
Judgement, affections, in reading is desir'd,
No admiration; but divine's requir'd.
Those sweet perfumes, which sweetens every verse
Read, marke, againe unto thy selfe rehearse.
If information of the wiles of sinne,
By reading this, unto thy soule comes in,
Instead of sleights, or jeeres, thy soule will praise,
The Lord, that gifts men so, in these our dayes.
Thus to unmaske the devils brats and sinne,
And shews such life, that all should strive to win.
I have to say in truth of commendation,
More from experience than by relation.
If evidence unskill'd in poetrie,
Proves not a blanck in any lotterie,
Then here stay not, but step within the doore
There's Poetrie, varietie, and store,
W. G.


OF THE POEMS of his Friend.

I read those lines, in them a worth I spi'd,
I turn'd them back, and found this empty side.
To praise the worth, I had a minde unto it,
'Twill praise it selfe, what need I then to doe it?
I tooke my pen, no longer did contest,
To try my skill, my love will prove the best:
The lines are usefull, sweet, and full of matter,
Composing words which men at randome slatter.
They are like darts to those that live in sinne,
They leave all speechlesse, that have shamelesse bin.
And sinne it selfe, is followed with such strength,
With all his power, he's overcome at length.
To all that loue truth, cordials, comforts sweet
They doe convay, to all directions meet.
Plaine things are rais'd, the loftie levell made,
Things lasting priz'd, those slighted that doe fade.
In pleasing tearmes, not strange, nor yet too low,
They beare a grace, yet such that all may know.


And if this be thy Muses tuning strings,
How sweet wil't be, when she both tunes and sings?
Goe now with praise, feare not to finde successe,
Whats here's thine own, thou hast not rob'd the press.
Had I but hope, that J so well could doe,
I'd wish, that I were melancholy too.
P. H.


To his Friend, H. M.

H onour is due to him that doth advance,
V ndoubted truth, with lively circumstance.
M vch of this skill this Authour hath found out;
P vts Sinto silence: questions out of doubt.
H aving pursu'd the cause of desolation,
R aising the hearts sweetly with meditation.
Y our soules may see, their enemies descri'd,
M ans wit is pliable, truly sanctified,
I n laying siege, 'gainst sinne, thy Poetry,
L eaves it accurst, in hellish destiny.
L et not thy conquest die, let's know the thing,
S ally forth little booke, feare no deadly sting.
I. A.


In Libri & Authoris

Encomion.

I need not praise this Booke, nor more to tell,
But that the matter in't will make it sell.
The worke it selfe wants nought to set it forth,
'Twill fast enough away, through its owne worth.
Though some the Carver, not th' Authours skill,
Doe more admire the pencill than the quill.
Such Empericks indeed may fashion it,
The perfecting's compact by Art and Wit.
Some men there are, that for their worthy parts,
Their vertue and their skill in many Arts,
Deserved honour here; and those that can,
Discerne the sequell will applaud the man.
And must confesse he hath deserved fame,
And everlasting praise, but marke this same,
And to succeeding ages after tell,
The period of his life may end, and well.
His name forgotten be, but yet this know,
The worke remaines for ever, not for show.


But for instruction of a civile life,
Abasing vice, too common, frequent rife,
Excluding it, yet still in briefe refines,
True vertues worth, eminence, throughout his lines.
Now this to adde, and so conclude my Muse,
Reade it, then censure't, for it's meet for use.
Tho: Collet.


The Arguments.

A melancholly Vision.
Of Time, with its use.
Of the Vanitie of the world.
Of the Nature of Darknesse.
Of the Nature of Light.
Of all sorts of Life.
Of the Condemnation of Sinne.
Of the Arraignment of Death.
The Reprive of Sinne, and Death.
Advise about Sinne.
Instructions touching Death.
The Resolutions of the Muse.


AN ACCIDENTALL Melancholy Vision which occasioned the Poems.

Me thought I saw, Time, in his speedie course,
His sithe new ground, his glasse being almost run,
All men did strive in vaine, to breake his force,
Tears would not stay him til his work were done,
He cut downe all, none could his fury shun.
Alas (thought I) he'l take me in his way,
My heavie heart, tooke earnest of decay.


Me thought, all sorts, me company did beare,
My eyes did fail, my tongue grew speechlesse to,
My eares were stopt, my breath grew short, my feare
Did so increase, I knew not what to do:
But yet I heard, from whence, or what, or who,
I could not tell; my spirits were agast:
With world adue, me thought I breath'd my last.
But yet my spirits were but in a trance,
For Darknesse with his mantle spread me ore,
With that, I did my courage much advance
'Gainst darknesse, yet the combate was so sore
That I grew sadder than I was before,
But yet thinke I, ile in defiance stand,
For I will never be at his command.
Like one destract, I was o'rewhelm'd a while,
With griefe, and care, lest I should lose the day,
Then in comes Light, and with a cheerfull smile
Revives my spirits: Darknesse slinkes away,
So on the sudden, ended was the fray.
Light shin'd a while, but what will tarry ever?
What's made for time, a little time will fever.


Then light began, much like a pleasant spring,
My heart grew warme, I had the sense of it:
The winters past (thought I) now birds dosing,
Why should I thus now melancholly sit?
Come, come, rejoyce, I hold it very fit.
I was on suddain ravisht in my soule,
But that which follow'd, did my joyes controule.
For life brought Care, she lookt on me so strange,
Best things below, doe prove but pleasing toyes,
I found his friendship subject still to change,
Worm-eaten pleasures, breeds uncertain joyes,
And are like Rattles, onely fit for boyes.
Alas (said I) how am I thus deceiv'd?
I catch at comfort, and am still bereav'd.
Then Sin, he promis'd full content to me,
But on such tearmes, I should take his direction:
Feare not (said he) for we shall well agree.
But then (thought I) twil breed a worse infectiō,
To staine my soule with horrour and dejection,
I gave deniall to his cursed sute,
And did resolve, his vilenesse to confute.


I turn'd about, and saw sin was in hold,
Nay now (thought I) Ile have of sin my will,
Seeing that he was so impudent and bold,
To tempt me by his promises to ill:
The soules of many he doth daily spill.
I gave my voyce against him; by and by,
I turn'd my face, and saw him sentenc'd lye.
Well now (thought I) I hope, the worst is past,
I will rejoyce, and while my Muse doth sing,
Ile over-looke my sorrow, and fore-cast,
To tune my soule, and strike the pleasant string.
But Death peept in, which more ill newes did bring.
What must I die? is all my labour lost?
Sin set him on, seeing he by me was crost.
But yet resolving, while I had my life,
To try an action, lo my cause was tried;
And Death was cast, which ended all my strife.
But then the Divell, he could not abide,
That sin, and death, should die: for then his pride,
Would be abated, so he got them quit:
Now farewell world, I must into the pit.


But then at last, I found another shift,
I slighted death, and thought on heaven above,
I thought it best, to make it still my drift,
To get the sense of Gods eternall love:
Me thought 'twas brought me by the heav'nly Dore?
And musing of him when he was ascended,
And what he brought; so was my Vision ended.


A DESCRIPTION OF THE NATVRE And Qualitie of Time.

As also the abuse of it, with the good use of Time.

This I say Brethren, the Time is short. 1 Cor. 7. 29.

There is a Time to be borne, and a Time to die. Eccles. 3. 2.

Neither doth man know his Time, but as the Fishes that are taken in a net, and the snare, so are the Children of men snared in an evill Time, when it falleth upon them suddainly. Eccles. 9 10.

Redeeme the Time, because the dayes are evill. Ephes. 5. 16.



O time, thou art that precious part,
that God doth give to man:
That living here, may in Gods feare,
proceed the best he can.


Time's more of worth, when 'tis set forth,
in Nature sweet and kinde,
Than Gold: being lost, the man is crost,
that seekes to gaine, or finde.
Time being gone, sure there is none.
can call it backe againe,
Its in God hand, Time cannot stand,
the Lord of times doth raigne.
When Time is past, though thou make haste,
to o're-take, its seldome seene,
But if thou creepe, time doth not sleepe,
but swift hath ever beene.
If thou but goe, time doth not so,
it runnes, thou runn'st, 'twill flye,
Get time before, and keepe in store,
lest God thee time deny.
Thy great estate, time will but hate,
to stay for thee therefore,
Time knowes not how, nor God allow,
to differ rich from poore.
Time's likewise short, though fooles in sport,
to make it shorter strive,
Poore fooles indeed, that whipps with speed
time gone, yet thinkes to thrive.


Alas aday I who is't that may,
more then his day stay here?
What mortall can exceed his span,
though living now in cheere?
Death hath time prest, that all the rest,
that on the earth abide,
Ere it be long, though nere so strong,
the dust may under hide.
Uncertaine too, not much adoe,
can make us know our time,
Our suddaine change, should not be strange.
though it come in our prime.
When men minde not, then 'tis their lot,
to die: they naught desire it,
Time will away, it must not stay,
though all the world would hire it.
Though men do deeme, and some esteeme,
time long: yet short's the flower,
When men are strong, it lasts not long,
times cream's but like an houre.
Long doe we grow, ere we know how,
to use our time, and then,
We eate, and drinke, and little thinke,
to die, like other men.


Much time we sleepe, some time we weepe,
some time we sport and play,
Some time we win, most time we sin,
thus spend we many a day.
Some time we joy, and vainely toy,
saying come let's merry be;
For when death comes, we in our tombes,
this mirth shall never see.
Some time we dresse, we take no lesse
time, to put off againe,
Sometime we walke, sometime we talke,
these things who can refraine?
When strength doth faile, old age is fraile,
and natures ruines are,
Though old men be, we seldome see
them, for their soules prepare.
Unlesse before, they had in store,
a stock of comfort got,
They cannot pray, nor truely say,
O Lord thou art my lot.
Not first, nor last, of time that's past;
our time we vainely spend:
The creame and flower, us'd by Gods power,
brings comfort at the end.


This being true, I heard one rue,
how vile a beast am I?
Lost time I have, what may I crave,
but like a beast to die?
O time, thy price, if good advice
had wrought upon me then,
I had thee bought, and for thee sought,
wil't never come agen?
Thy front was faire, adorn'd with haire,
but balde behinde thou art,
To follow thee, boots not for me,
for griefe hath kild my heart.
Thou art too swift, for me unthrift,
whether I doe goe, or runne,
My friend also, is turn'd my foe,
alas, my thread is spunne.
Short is the pleasure, of sinfull leasure,
but still the sting remaines,
Long lives the smart, which kils my heart,
with never dying paines.
I did beleeve that on my sleeve,
time, and Repentance fast
Was pin'd: and when I car'd not, then
they both were quickly past.


Then thou my friend, that seest my end,
take heed at any rate,
For now in hell, I goe to dwell,
all comforts come too late.
Make use of time, now in thy prime,
lay hold on saving grace,
Lest at the last, God doe thee cast,
from heaven his dwelling place.
Into that Lake, where lives the snake,
with hell-hounds yelling fast,
Where thou shalt crie, and burning lye,
thy dolour still shall last.


GOOD VSE OF Time.

With meanes to bee used to make advantage of it.

VVell, now I see, what miserie.
that time ill spent doth bring,
Hearing these words, they cut like swords,
teares from my eyes they wring.
Time be my friend, ile make an end,
and leave my vaine delights,
I will thee use, and not abuse,
and give to thee thy rights.
Thou art of price, I will be wise,
to make of thee such gaine,
As through Gods grace, Ile thrive apace,
Gods love shall me constraine.


Though short time is, I will not misse,
in time to serve the Lord,
And then will he, still present be,
and comfort me afford.
Then time make haste, and run as fast,
or having wings thou flye.
Then to my fort, I will resort,
under Gods wings ile lye.
Though suddenly, thou com'st to trie,
how ready I shall be,
Then thus I say, Ile watch and pray,
from feare I shall be free.
Against that houre, Lord by thy power,
of comforts give me store,
Live thou my soule, free from controule,
when time shall be no more.
Now thou my friend, that good intend,
use well the time while here
Thou stay: then sure, thou shalt endure,
fresh comforts shall appeare.
Alas, how may I, thou wilt say,
make use of times sad story,
I may at last, when time is past,
by grace attaine to glory?


Serve God, while young, when thou art strong
to overcome thy Lust,
Make haste also, and with time goe,
or be behinde thou must.
Deny thy strength, and now at length,
make God thy chiefest guide,
Let in thy brest, sin never rest,
but chiefly downe with pride.
Beleeve thou art, freed from the smart
of sin, of death, and hell,
By him that came; from heavens frame,
sometime on earth to dwell.
Be good and kinde, to all that minde
the God of time to serve,
Serve all in love, from God above,
let thy heart never swarve.
Unloose thy joyes, from earthly toyes,
and willing be to part,
For worldly things, no comfort brings,
let heaven have thy heart.
So now we see, how we may be,
of time, good stewards then,
Let us be blest, Lord to thy rest,
and enter may: Amen.
FINIS.


THE FADING CONDITION, OF EARTHLY THINGS.

With the Application of it.

The World passeth away, and the Lust thereof. 1 John, 2. 17.

The fashion of this World passeth away. 1 Cor. 7. 31.



The Vanity of earthly things,
appeareth on this wise,
False joy true discontent it brings,
who could them not despise?


What are the Nobles of the earth,
but honoured clodds of clay?
Though they are made so great by birth,
such time consumes away.
What are the learned'st here below,
but reverend heapes of dust?
Also the wisest that I know,
dissolved be they must.
What are the richest of the time?
ere growne they fade away?
So doe the greatest in their prime,
euen fade till quite decay.
What are the fairest of this age?
but skin thicke beauties found?
Must not the stoutest though they rage,
lye even with the ground?
And must not poore and lowly too,
at last be lower brought?
All of all sorts, though much adoe,
ere long must turne to naught.
If Nobles be, though honoured,
so mortall in their kinde?
Ile be content, though meaner bred,
and comming thus behinde.


Shall finde as much respect with death,
the wormes, and eke the grave,
As truly honoured Nobles, sith,
they there no Lordships have.
If learning will not much availe,
when time begins to close,
Though they are like, when they prevaile,
the Lilly and the Rose.
The learning of the truth shall be,
the thing I most intend,
When all things changed thus shall be,
my comfort shall not end.
If worldly wisedome, doth no good,
to helpe in time of need,
Ile not adore the serpents brood,
nor run with them to speed.
My wisedome for to know my God,
his Christ, through his good grace,
My selfe, my sins, and eke Gods rod,
'twill make me mend apace.
If rich men, and their riches are,
thus subject all to fade,
O pitty them, that with much care,
their gods of them hath made.


My care shall be, to be as rich,
in God I may or can,
To bring my selfe up to the pitch,
to feare nor flatter man.
What cannot greatnesse death withstand?
nor shun his mortall dart?
Let no man thinke to take in hand,
to free him from that smart.
My care shall be, to frame my life
and daily die to sinne,
And living may, thus free from strife,
a heavenly life begin.
Nor cannot beauty with her smiles,
once charme deaths frowning face?
Who then so hardy thinkes his wiles,
can turne his common trace
I love the beautie that's within
and in the heart doth lye,
It's fresh in heaven, being freed from sin,
when death it selfe shall die.
Cannot the man, that is so stout,
himselfe free from the dread?
What is the man, that goes about
redemption from the dead?


I desire to take away the sting,
from death, and him disarme,
Being done by faith, to God ile sing,
his praise, thus fre'd from harme.
And why must poore, and lowly men,
lye lower in the dust?
It's so decreed, I say agen,
that all men living must.
Poore be content, for you shall see,
the rich for all their store,
As low interr'd, in earth shall be,
though men doe them adore.
Let low in heart, rejoyce that have
a Kingdome for their owne,
The King of Kings will all them save,
when proud are overthrowne.
Let's all prepare our selves for change,
We must not long stay here,
That God to us may not be strange,
then come thou King of feare.
Not noble birth, nor learning high,
nor wise, nor rich, nor great,
Nor faire, nor stout, poore, nor lowly,
but all must be wormes meat,


Come downe proud hearts, for thus I say,
that death hath no remorse:
O bend to God, and to him pray
lest thou be broke by force.
Then farewell all contents below,
all must to judgement come:
How they have liv'd, so shall they know,
for to receive their doome.
FINIS.


DARKNESSE DISCOVERED.

With the dreadfull effects thereof.

The Earth was without forme, and Darknesse was upon the Deepe. Gen. 1. 2.

Cast away the workes of Darknesse. Rom. 13. 12.

Have no fellowship with the unfruitfull workes of Darknesse, but reprove them rather. Ephes. 5. 11.



1

Come, come my Muse, put on thy sad aray,
Black darknesse scorning, in a hatefull tone,
And if thou canst him banish quite away,
Thou shalt have praise almost of every one:
Be bold, and by him be not thou out-fac'd,
If he'll not part, let him remaine disgrac'd.


2

Thou black and hideous monster on the earth;
Darknesse I meane, I never yet could finde,
That he which made the world, brought thee to birth.
Thou art of hellish nature, kin by kind,
To that curst fiend, that rules in thee by might,
Thou must give place, he claims thee for his right

3

If hell had been, before there was a Divell,
I should have judg'd that thou hadst bin the same,
As first, so worse than any other evill,
Thou art; till now I never knew thy name,
A dreadfull night-hag, blacknesse type of death,
Thou hinder'st light, thy vapors poyson breath.

4

An evill spirit thou art, there is no doubt,
Thou do'st so haunt me, where so ere I goe,
Though I remote be, thou do'st finde me out,
And lookst so ghastly, like a deadly foe,
If I haste home, yet thou art there before,
Waiting my comming, for to vexe me more.


5

Thou art so bold, no company or place,
Can shake thee off; thou most unwelcome guest,
The comeliest creature thou do'st still disgrace,
Onely with blinde men, thou art in request;
Or hatefull creatures that doe shun the light,
Doe follow thee, and so play least in sight.

6

Had not the glorious light appear'd, still thou
Hadst kept possession of the world, and then
None ever could at any time tell how,
To differ beasts (though wilde) from sons of men,
Gods praise of all his works, had quite bin lost,
Had he not brought in light, and darknes crost.

7

But still thou shar'st with light, of time and place,
And shew'st thy swarthie visage every where,
Ide make thee creepe in holes, not shew thy face
No more thou shouldst, if I could power steare,
Th' obscurest den, should ever be thy tombe,
Till hell did take thee, at the day of doome.


8

Men were not made with eyes, and not to see,
Such pleasant colours, made were for delight,
What use of these, when men in darknesse be,
What dost thou then, but rob us of our right?
Dost peepe in now? be gone, or else ile fire,
Thy horrid shape; let cursed be thy hire.

9

Thou envious viper, why so long dost keepe
Possession of some countries? ere thou part,
Wouldst have a creature halfe a yeare to sleepe?
No fruit thou hast, poorebeasts do feele the smart,
Thou keepst frō others, me must wait thy leisure,
Ther's no excuse, nor reason, 'tis thy pleasure.

10

A man that travels on his way, he thinkes,
No harme is neare him; but thou hid'st the way,
Then suddainly into a pit he sinkes,
So by thy meanes, that, doth his life destroy,
Thou dost not care, thou wouldst not blush awhit
If all that lives should fall into a pit.


11

Contrarily, when men in Darknesse goe,
They see a bush, but take it for a Theefe,
And so a friend, is taken for a foe,
Of all mistakes in mischiefe, thou art chiefe,
I never knew thee to repent of any,
Of all such wrongs, though they were nere so many.

12

Thou hant'st the day, that it can never rest,
Thy fury shewes the curtnesse of thy spirit,
And when the chāpion hides him in the west;
Thou tak'st his place, there thou wouldst stil inherit;
But light doth conquer, and breaks up thy fort,
Men run from thee, to light they doe resort.

13

What use of thee can any creature make?
For any good? what profit dost thou bring,
Or what delight can any creature take
In thee? thou envi'st every living thing?
But Batts and Owles, are companie for thee,
And graves remote, how noysome ere they be.


14

Nay worse thā al that I before have told
Thou'rt good for nothing, but with sleeping dreams
Thou cheatest men: the blindest are most bold,
And whē they wake, their wants are in extreams,
Thou fright'st men too & mak'st some fools, fōe mad.
All this is true, o this is worse than bad.

15

Yet worse Ile say, that no man can deny it,
Thou coverest sin, and dost still take his part,
Thou arr reserv'd and close, I doe defie it,
Thou hid'st sins vermin, that should feel the smart,
And good that should lye open to the world,
Thou hid'st it so, that in a grave 'tis hurl'd.

16

A traytor thou art, guilty of the treason,
That traytors act in vaults, and hideous Cels,
Thou keep'st their counsels, is there any reason,
But thou should'st share with thē in deadly spels.
Nay thou art first in all things that are ill.
Thy partners die, but thou remainest still.


17

By thy assistance theeves doe seeke their prey,
They rob and steale, thou dost their counsell keep,
When they breake houses, 'tis not in the day,
'Tis in thy presence, when men are asleepe:
Thou cozening varlet, dost not thou partake?
With all such villaines, thou dost share a stake.

18

Mē spend whole nights in play, their means & al,
Thou dost them shelter with a sable hue,
They'l turne thee into day, but they inthrall
Themselves: day is their night, & shame their due,
For when light peepson them, they slink away,
Thou mak'st them bold, but light doth them bewray.

19

What art thou but a Pandar to the whore,
To countenance such basenesse that they doe?
When thou hast curtain'd light, and not before
They serve their lusts, art thou not guiltie too?
Such things are cover'd, yea maintain'd by thee,
As clownes blush at, and mad men hate to see.


20

Thou go'st with death, you both agree together,
If one goe first, the other followes fast,
Who is the master? 'tis no matter whether,
How can you 'gree? too slow thou, he too fast
Runs? deith in darknes throws his dart so right,
You both conspire against the blessed light.

21

Darknes, thou tak'st on thee such dreadfull state,
That sin and death, doth still upon thee waite,
Having their love, thou dost procure thee hate,
Of all that know thy trickes, and finde thy baite:
Thou art accurst of all that see thy shape,
'Tis more ugly, than any Beare or Ape.

22

Thou chargest men, with candle, torch and tapers,
Those that doe purchase any time of thee,
(When thou dost come, and bring thy hatefull vapors)
Shall buy it deare, if they would constant be,
Thou ever still dost seeke for to undoe us,
And enviest much, when any light comes to us.


23

Though I chide thee, yet stil thou star'st upon me,
And dost not shrinke a whit, thou mak'st me fret,
Thou dost out-face me, pressing more upon me;
With thy blacke guard, thou dost upon me set:
I call for light, but thou dost wait till when,
My candle's out, and then thou com'st agen.

24

Mans time is short, yet thou tak'st halfe his life;
He answer must, for that blacke time that thou
Dost bring on him; 'tis that, that breeds us strife,
To be redeem'd from thee, we know not how,
The willinger to part from earth Ile bee,
Freed from thy shade, I perfect light shall see.

25

Unlike to God thou art, no darknesse dwell
With him may: thou hast nothing else, thy name
Is darknesse: thou wilt soone all light expell,
If thou hadst might, for free thou art from shame
Thou dar'st not looke in heaven, this I know,
God lets thee stay for punishment below.


26

Most fitly unto hell, I thee compare,
For darknesse there, is of no other hue,
Thy ugly presence, addeth to their care,
That love not light, so darknesse is their due;
Thou constant art, yet there thou dost not hide,
Their faults, though thou dost with them still abide.

27

Nay worse, for there thou dost the worse tormēt,
And vexe them justly, here thou vexest all,
The best thou hindrest from their good intent,
Both good and bad; with snares thou dost inthral,
From fire there, thou tak'st the light away,
Thou bring'st us night, & tak'st from us the day.

28

Be thou confin'd to hell, for only there,
Thy kingdome is, yet here thou com'st to dwell,
And with thy shape thou putt'st us still in feare,
Art thou so large, not roome enough in hell
For thee: but thou must rove about the earth?
With tragedies thou act'st a monsters birth.


29

Thou like hells factor, gets men in thy clawes
And keep'st them fast, they cannot get from thee,
Then hellish darknesse, opens wide his jawes,
And swallowes them in endlesse miserie.
Those that on earth do shew to thee regard,
Thy partner doth in hell, their workes reward.

30

Darknesse in hell, seems like thy younger brother,
For thou before hadst being in the world,
Didst thou fall out with him? or from each other
Part with consent? that he to hell was hurl'd,
Or doth he there, possession keepe for thee,
Till thou com'st there, for all eternitie?

31

For though thou stay'st on earth awhile, yet thou,
Ere long, shalt not in any place be found
Saving in hell; let hell-hounds tell thee how
By thee their sorrowes do the more abound:
Pen'd up together, you shall be for aye,
Looke not toward heaven, for eternall day.


32

Thou with black storms, dost ever join thy might
In day thy foggy mists, doe cast their vailes,
Which hang before us, keeping off the light,
On toppes of hilles, or dwelling in the dales:
And thou in mischiefe dost eclipse the Sunne,
To force a night, before the day be done.

33

Nay worst of all, thou mak'st men blinde within,
Thou tak'st possession onely of the heart,
And so through darknesse, men doe live in sin,
Losing their way so by thy cursed art:
No love of truth, (for why they cannot see)
Doth once appeare, being hood-winkt so by thee.

34

The minde to folly, thou dost ever bend,
Through ignorance, thou keep'st it still in hold,
To hinder good, thou hast a cursed end,
To cloud the light; thou shamelesse art and bold,
Thou keep'st assises, close, within the soule,
Thou wilt be judg, and thou must all controule,


35

If once the will, do but a freedome crave.
And labour darknesse, for to disinherit,
Then if thou canst not chaine him like a slave,
Thou'lt blinde him so, that he will think to merit:
Which is as bad, or worse, thus for to change;
Blinde zeale from light is far remote & strange.

36

Th' affections are so darkned, by thy power,
They live below, and worldly goods desire,
Desiring things that perish in an houre;
Affecting not the light, or to aspire
Above thy reach, but with thee will remaine,
They licke the dust, and judge losse to be gaine.

37

The minde, the will, affections are included,
In thy black dungeon, thou dost keepe them fast,
And so poore creatures are by thee deluded,
They love thee more than light, light hath no tast
With them, for light they never yet did know,
They'l know thee here, or else in hell below.


38

Those not a few, that thou dost cheat so still,
The most of men, thou hidest in thy tent,
For halfe the world. is not enough to fill,
Thy hellish prison; but 'tis still thy bent,
To cover all men with thy hellish shade,
As if that all were for destruction made.

39

Thou mak'st mē think, that evil's good, good evil,
Such doe thee love; is't for thy comely lookes?
Or else, because thou art so like the Devill,
They so delight to reade thy cursed bookes?
Or is't that they may free from feare or wit,
Still sin unseene, when they in darknesse sit?

40

Though men have eyes, through thee they cannot see,
No not themselves, for they are blinde within,
Thou flatter'st such, how vile so ere they be,
Which worke for thee, hate light and mock at sin,
To humour all, thou hast a great desire,
That plead for thee, and love thy fruitlesse hire.


41

Thou art the cause, that men doe live like bruits.
They looke not up, they'r so with thee possest,
They are thy spawns, I know thē by their fruits,
Ile never looke for reason, in a beast:
O cursed darknesse, how dost thou bereave,
Their soules of light, and in them darknes leave.

42

Thou wilt not be expeld by any strength,
Nor adjurations charge, thou art so stout,
Till God from heaven brings his light at length,
Into the mindes, and so doth cast thee out:
Yet thou dost lurk, and turne againe to enter
Into the heart; thou art so bold to venter.

43

In single actions, thou dost hide a part,
If good, the comfort, thou dost still disgrace,
If bad, thou usest such black handed art,
Men cānot see their own deformed face,
Whether good or bad: smal difference doth appeare,
The good is clouded, bad (though foule) seemes cleare.


44

Though light be round about thee, yet thou keep'st
Possession: for thou wilt not stirre from thence,
Thy night is alwayes, yet thou never sleep'st,
Light from on high against thee doth commence,
A suit in judgement; though he get the day,
Being impudent, thou wilt not get away.

45

Keep off from me, I charge thee come not hither,
Go, go to Egypt, once againe to dwell,
And let the dreamers say, when thou com'st thither,
That thou most fitly dost resemble hell,
Or wait in desarts, let the sleepers call
Thee back: or mourners to the funerall.

46

Let such as have not mourning garments made,
T'attend the funerals to their graves by day,
Take up on trust, of thy blacke cypresse shade,
Let doomes-day be appointed for thy pay:
Let greeved persons that should weepe alone,
In thy sad presence, breath a silent groane.


47

Goe, be a bug-beare to the Indians wilde,
And live with savages, in darksome holes,
Or dwell with wormes beneath, for they are milde,
They'l not thee chide, goe tarry with the moles,
Till thou art sent for; these will like thee best:
Shamelesse thou art, thou'dst goe else, being so prest.

48

Me thinks to dwel 'mongst Turks, might thee suffice,
Their bounds are larger, than all Christendome;
Thou shalt be welcom, there they wil thee prize,
What need'st thou then to us, so constant come?
Get, get thee gone, thy Canopie no more,
Spread over us, doe this, Ile quit the score.

49

Let such bribe thee, that Nature have deni'd,
A comely shape, and let those be in fee
With thee: that thou maist them in darknes hide,
That have no hope of grace or good to see:
Let vagrants use thee, as a charme t'affright,
Their froward brats, to tell them here comes night.


50

And let the screetch-owles, with their dolefull noise,
Accompany thy presence, and withall,
To usher in thy traine, with hollow voice,
Let night-birds meet together, great and small:
No other musicke, but the passing bell,
Thy woes so sad, as death himselfe can tell.

51

Let no man name thee, but in great disdaine,
And blush when thou art open set before,
Let none wish for thee, thou increasest paine
Of death, to such that doe but help thee ore:
When thou art seen, let desperate sinners quake,
That must in hell of thee possession take.

52

Let fooles by thee, be ever so affrighted
That they may tremble when they doe thee see;
Let changelings cry, still whē they are benighted,
And bawling curres, then howle for fear of thee:
Let mad men quiver when they hear thy name,
Or see thy shape (though wilde) they may grow tame.


53

Then now I'd leave thee, leave thee? would I might,
I speake as I would have it unawares,
The thoughts of leaving, makes my heart so light,
That for the present, I am free from cares:
Then say I, is this ravishment in thought?
Its but a dream, which waking turns to naught.

54

For when I turne my face, it glides away,
And dores are shut, and darknesse in doth slinke,
Then all amort, I bid my pengoe play,
I write no more, he creeps in through a chinke:
I think to strive, 'tis but in vaine for me,
For with this spright, I haunted still shall be.

55

If I could kill thee, I would soone dispatcht it,
Run through th' hadst bin, I know it many times,
Yet still thou liv'st, thy evill who can match it?
Men die with lesse, and for lesse sinfull crimes:
There's none can hang thee, still thou slip'st the knot
Ile have thee banisht, this should be thy lot.


56

Thou stop'st mine eyes, thou canst not stop my tongue,
Ile tell thy projects to the world, that they,
May shun, or hate thy company, and long,
And love, and prize the lightsome cheerfull day:
I will not make with thee a composition,
Nor none should else, by my will or permissiō.

57

My eares are open, them thou canst not close,
With all thy magick: comfort still I finde,
In darknesse I can smell a fragrant rose,
Though thou bring'st sadnesse, this doth ease my minde.
I will not feare thee much: for why should I,
God gives me light, thy blacknesse to descrie.

58

Ile raise my thoughts (though dark) above thy flight,
And meditate on blessed things to come,
And take possession of eternall light,
By faith: though thou wilt not avoid the roome.
Come do thy worst, why should I favor crave,
Of thee that art a theefe, a sharke, a slave?


59

(Then thus I thinke, againe)
If he'l not part, by faire meanes nor by force,
But stay with us, and vexe us in despight;
Ile send a Satire that shall scourge him worse,
He feeling 'smart, perhaps he'll take his flight.
It bootes not, he being senselesse feels no pain,
A whipp's as nothing, this thought is but vaine.

60

Being vext, I to him say:
Remaine imprison'd, in a fatall Cell,
And let the stars, the Moon still watch thee there,
But with enchantments, thou get'st out to dwell,
The starres are hid, the Moon doth not appeare.
(Then thus my Muse reply:)
What remedy, but patience, that is best,
Lay me aside, goe sweetly take thy rest,

61

(Then I looke back:)
On what my Muse did speake, I set my mind,
I nought regard his power, nor his charmes,
Nor feare his lookes, my soule shall be inclin'd,
To light: then I will never dread his harmes.
'Tis but a time, halfe my time here is light,
My minde shall see heaven, in the darkest night.


62

Then to my Muse I say,
Alas, alas, is all thy labour lost?
Doth darknesse still remaine? what still abide?
Is there no way to have his horrour crost?
Doth he not care though thou dost sharply chide?
Be not dismaid, thy labour is not vaine,
Except his owne, all men shall him disdaine.

63

Winde up thy clew, for thou hast staid too long,
Acting thy part, so tragicall and grim,
Though darknesse stay still with us yet among,
Yet charge him that he goes not into him
That's dispossest of him; nor in the heart
Once claime a share, where light hath got a part.

64

Warne all in light, to stand upon their guard,
Let those in darknesse for their freedome strive,
Let all at all times, ever be prepar'd,
T'oppose it, till they doe by light arrive
In heaven: where, no darknesse they shall see,
But free from feare eternally shall be.


65

If Darknesse grumble,
Speake not at all, though he do vexe and grutch,
And mutter out his froth, or yet his crue,
Reply: seeing thou dost them so boldly touch,
Its known full well what thou hast spoke is true.
They'l shew thou did'st but rub him on the sore,
The more they stir, still they will stink the more.

66

Muse, thou art honest, I must take thy part,
Though thou art plain, let none thy truth despise,
Thou art not trimm'd with any curious art,
Thou wear'st thy owne, that best doth fit thy size.
Goe, goe thy way, plaine dressing likes me best,
For heathenish painting's grown out of request.
FINIS.


THE FADING CONDITION, OF EARTHLY THINGS.

With the Application of it.

And God said, Let there bee Light, and there was Light. Gen. 1. 3.

For with thee is the well of life, and in thy light shall we see Light. Psal. 36. 9.



The Argument in Charge.

1

Now come my Muse, and sweetly sing
the prasse of light, no other thing;
Shall hinder thee: I have intent,
To helpe thy tune, my heart is bent.


2

His pedigree, his beautie, worth,
His use, esteeme, his truth set forth,
His company, and proper place,
And chide all those, that him disgrace.

3

O blessed Light, need I a taske,
To sing thy worth; let none me aske,
Thy selfe as motives, may suffice,
To cause my pen thy songs devise.

4

If I should hold my tongue, some Vale,
Or Hils, or Plants, would tell the tale,
Or Beasts, nay stones, would finde a tongue,
To speake thy praises, ere 'twere long.

5

If I could finde an Eagles quill,
Dropt from her wing, Ide try my skill,
With it to raise my note so high,
And set thy worth, above the skie.


6

I am too shallow in this art,
In Comedie to act a part,
For thee, that art so sweet and faire,
I feare my words will bee but ayre.

7

But if I speake, perhaps some other,
Will fall to write, whose worth they smother;
Thy glory shew, that better can,
And will thy beautie freely scan,

8

Light, thou art so divine a thing,
Let all the world thy honour sing,
To bring thy favour in request,
And call thee still, their welcome guest.

9

The God of lights, thy father he,
Doth so proclaime himselfe to be,
Thy birth is honoured: so dost thou.
Dwell with thy fathers Children now.


10

Thou first wast made of all the rest,
His workes to grace, thee he thought best,
He let thee rule, and call'd thee day,
Thou did'st drive darknesse farre away.

11

Thou spread'st thy selfe, blest was thy name,
And all did mount, and blaze thy fame,
For thou didst shew thy face to all,
To rich, to poore, to great and small.

12

Thou ready wast, for to attend,
The creatures when they did ascend,
From earth; thou welcom'st in their traine,
'Twas all for love, thou hadst no gaine.

13

The Sunne he borrow'd light of thee,
The Starres we know, beholding be,
To thee: the Moone would be but darke,
Had she none of thy heavenly sparke.


14

So pure and perfect still thou art,
With that, that's ill, thou tak'st no part,
No vilenesse can unto thee cleave,
Curst creatures would thy presence leave.

15

But thou their doings dost espie,
And chase them with thy lightned eye,
And bring'st them naked on the stage,
And mak'st them hatefull to this age.

16

The goodnesse that lies hid of those,
That love thee, thou dost it disclose,
In time thou wilt so spread their fames,
That men shall joy to heare their names.

17

Thy selfe and all things thou dost show.
Thou would'st have us, the glory know
Of God in thee; and all the rest,
How in his creatures he is blest.


18

All things had beene but blinde and dumbe,
Had'st thou not mustred up the summe
Of them in order, and their glory,
Who could have known the worlds great story.

19

Constant art thou, for to this day,
Thou dost not from us part away,
But shew'st thy face, and let'st us see,
Thy beautie, with thy puritie.

20

Thou art of day the Princesse still,
We'l serve thee freely with good will;
And for to recompence our paines,
Thy presence brings sufficient gaines.

21

Thou shew'st thy beames also in night,
When darknesse rules, thy lesser Light
Breakes in to guide us, in our way,
Else darknesse would leade us astray.


22

Though thou art high, thou dost not grutch,
To stoope and light below, all such
As need thy ayde, and faine would use
Thy beames: thou dost them not refuse.

23

Nay thou the bad dost not deny,
Thy ayde, but com'st in presently,
To doe them good. So good for ill,
Thou dost repay, 'tis thy good will.

24

For such as would resist thy might,
'Tis but in vaine, for thou in sight,
Break'st in upon them, in what place,
So ere they be; to their disgrace.

25

Thou art so swift, that in an houre,
O're all the world thou spread'st thy power,
Thou overlook'st the world, and when,
Thou draw'st away, swift art thou then.


26

Thou pleasant art, for to behold,
When thou thy sweetnesse dost unfold,
All comely creatures thou dost grace,
All flowers smile upon thy face.

27

And thou dost ease the greeved minde,
When thou com'st in, they comfort finde,
From false suspicions thou dost free,
All such as suffer wrongfully.

28

Most usefull every way art thou,
For all things that we may know how,
By thy assistance for to doe,
All businesse: and praise thee to.

29

Thou art admired for thy worth,
My pen can never set thee forth,
As thou deserv'st; but this I say.
What's better than the light of day?


30

Who is so honour'd with his store,
Of friends, as thou; for thou hast more
Then all the world? to claime as due
Who doth not for thy friendship sue?

31

Who hath attendants like to thee,
For Kings and peoples seeke to bee,
Grac't with thy presence? they cry still,
Come stay: of thee let's have our fill.

32

When thou dost hide thy selfe a while,
Then all amort, and not a smile,
Breakes forth: but all to silent rest,
Betake themselves, in night it's best.

33

But when thy morning doth appeare,
With one consent, and pleasing cheare
VVe meet thee for to welcome in,
So sweet a guest, still thou hast beene.


34

The pretty Birds, with musicke sweet,
Doe usher thee in, as 'tis meet;
I wish their notes and tunes so shrill,
Might make thee tarry with us still.

35

The Beasts arise, though thanklesse they,
Doe eate and drinke, then sport and play.
They follow thee, and in their kinde,
Shew, they to praise thee, have a minde.

36

If darknesse were not mixt below,
Among'st thy splendor, this I know,
Thou would'st appeare so bright, that then,
Thou would'st not suit with mortall men.

37

To doe us good, thou willing art,
And thou with fire takest a part,
To light my Candle still at night,
VVhen thy maine part is taking flight.


38

I pray thee hide not now thy face,
From me, nor leave me in this case.
I am thy Friend, I sing thy praise,
Afford thy helpe my voice to raise.

39

Thou art too modest, stay and heare,
Depart not so, Ile make appeare,
How thou dost all the world excell,
Turne night to day, come with us dwell.

40

But if thou dost this thing refuse,
Ile meet thee early with my Muse.
And sing my song amongst all those,
'Twill please thy friends, and shame thy foes.

41

Thou art impartiall for to hide
Our faults, that thou canst not abide;
Thou tak'st thy time to bring't about,
Our sinfull folly to set out.


42

How might we thrive, if we did make,
Good use of thee? delight to take,
Advantage still of every day,
And walke still onward on our way.

43

How vile are such, that doe not prize,
Thee: or against thee shut their eyes,
The night of darknesse they love more,
For thou dost rub them in the sore.

44

Thou dost not keepe their counsell fast,
They long for night, and wish thee past.
That they might sin, then free from feare,
When they are sure, thou art not there.

45

The traytor, he workes in the vault,
VVhen thou art gone, none sees his fault
He thinkes; and so he workes secure,
But thou dost force him to thy lure.


46

The theefe though not so bad as he,
Thinkes that when he is rid of thee,
Then he may safely seeke his prey,
Till thou his mischiefe dost bewray.

46

The whore, with all the baudy crue,
They shun thy face, yet for their due,
Thou bring'st disgrace and open shame,
And mak'st them cursed in their name.

47

The Backbiter in secret goes;
And thinkes that thou canst not disclose,
His plots: but thou discoverest all,
And he himselfe receives the fall.

48

And all that Batt-like seeke to hide,
Themselves from thee, shall be descride.
Their sins by thee, shall be brought out.
With all hels rabble, and the rout.


49

Let none but hell-hounds thee despise,
Whose cursed practise doe devise:
To make thee bated, let them dwell,
With darknesse in the lower hell.

50

Let all that know thee, love thee still,
In heart in minde, in soule, and will,
Let all their actions be divine,
As thine are, so I would have mine.

51

Light hath a time, it will away,
Let's doe our worke, while we have day,
And love it, that we may receive,
A brighter, when this doth us leave.

52

Let's doe nothing by day or night,
But what we'd have brought to the light.
Let's love all good, and hate all ill,
We may in light, rejoyce our fill.


OF HEAVENLY Light.

53

But as thou art in heaven now,
To ser thee forth I know not how;
My praise, would but thy worth disgrace,
And cloud the beauty of thy face.

54

I never saw, nor yet did heare,
How famous in thy glorie, there
Thou art: the least part of thy worth,
The learned'st cannot set it forth.

55

The Angels which above doe dwell,
They are most fit thy praise to tell:
Thou art transcendent so above,
That God with thee is much in love.


56

In thee he doth set up his throne,
And thou art so preferr'd that none,
That mortall are, can ere attaine,
To see thee with thy glorious traine.

57

Thou there immortally dost shine,
Thy splendor never doth decline,
True light indeed thou dost appeare,
I shall not see thee shine so heere.

58

The Angels do in thee delight,
The Saints doe claime thee as their right,
And Saints and Angels doe rejoyce,
In thee, so'le I make thee my choise,

59

So soone as ere thou hadst thy birth,
Thou wast in Heaven, light on earth,
Is but a shade, as there thou art,
The least that can, be call'd a part.


60

There is no night to follow thee,
Nor yet eclipse, or shade to be,
Nor spot, nor let, in all thy course,
All these are here, with more, and worse:

61

Thou large and boundlesse art above,
As heaven is, thou dost not move;
From place to place, as here 'mongst men,
Thou go'st and com'st, and go'st agen.

62

When thou art here, then others stay,
And waite thy leysure, and long way,
Oft times before thou dost repaire,
To them, they die in darke despaire.

63

Mistake me not, I doe not chide,
For long thou dost with us abide,
How can I doe, now lesse than deeme?
But that thou dost us more esteeme?


OF LIGHT IN the soule.

64

Thou think'st it not enough to light,
Our bodies, but thy splendor bright
Doth pierce our spirits, and we finde,
Thou art of heavens blessed kinde.

65

Men see and feele, yet cannot well,
Expresse thy might, till thou dost dwell,
A while in them, but then they say,
Light blest art thou, still with us stay.

66

When thou with power to the soule,
Break'st in, though darknesse thee controule,
'Tis but in vaine for to withstand,
Thy presence hath a great command.


67

Yet darknesse will not cleane goe out,
But lurke in corners like a scout,
Yet thou dost him in corners spie,
And dost his darknesse then descrie.

68

'Tis by degrees that thou com'st in,
Not all by force, thou striv'st to win
The soule to love thee, and to bend,
It's power to a blessed end.

69

Though course thy entertainment be,
Thou art not pettish, for to flee
From them, though they so foolish are,
As not to welcome thee with care.

70

Thou wilt not grudge, nor yet disdaine,
The poorest soule, to entertaine,
Thou wilt as soone, to such resort,
As those that tend the Princely Court.


71

Thou art a wonder here below,
In the blest soule for to bestow,
Thy light; and others that are by,
See nothing, but in darknesse lye.

72

Thou art so excellent by kinde,
When thou dost once possesse the minde.
Thou mak'st a little world of glory,
When men relate thy blessed story.

73

Thou art so bountifull and free;
Though men are blinde, and long to see,
But cannot: yet thou by thy might,
Bring'st them unask't, a better light.

74

Though light be small, and clowded when,
He first doth enter into men,
Ere long he'l drive all mists away,
And shine in them as perfect day.


75

Thou mak'st the difference to appeare.
When thou dost shine so bright, and cleare,
We may perceive, who stands for thee,
And who for darknesse; curst they bee.

76

VVhen thou in man, set'st up thy throne,
And with thy scepter sway'st alone,
Thou like a conquerour dost suppresse,
The brood of darknesse, more or lesse.

77

Thy government is sweet, yet strong,
'Tis mixt with mildnesse, and among,
Thou usest motives to asswage,
Revenge curst pride, and lustfull rage.

78

Thou labour'st man for to exalt,
And dost; but he is in the fault,
To slight thee so, and to abuse,
Thy light, or else it little use.


79

Thou should'st command the heart and all,
That is in man, for 'twas in thrall,
Before thou cam'st, then thou by force,
Redeem'st us, else we had grew worse.

80

Thou mak'st us men, we were but bruits,
The workes of darknesse were our fruits,
We were but fooles, and did despise.
The truth: till thou mad'st us more wise.

81

We were till thou didst us repaire.
But flesh and bones, and emptie ayre,
Like Idols eyes that cannot see,
Or darksome Cels, just so were we.

82

When we went singing on tow'rd hell,
With Omnia bene, all is well,
When we to thee had no desire,
But lov'd darke sinfull fruitlesse hire,


83

Thou cam'st with power from above,
To bring us tydings of Gods love,
Thou promis't us to meet us there,
Thou usest meanes our hearts to cheere.

84

Thou guard'st us so, that we may spie,
An evill, when it comes us nigh,
And shewest us meanes for to escape,
Though sin and Sathan on us gape.

85

And light'st us, secretly, we may
(Unseene of such that would betray
Thee) passe securely by all them,
Guid'st us to new Jerusalem.

86

And then thou never leav'st us more,
But with thy orient splendor store,
Dost fill our eyes, our soules, we shall
Be blest, with Saints, and Angels all.


87

But lest my muse, so wanton prove,
And with thee fall too much in love,
Ile turne the straine, lest shee and I,
Act with thee, sweet Idolatry.

88

Art thou a creature, and so bright,
What then is he that gave thee light,
The mighty God, that breath'd thee forth,
Must needs be, of more wondrous worth.

89

His eyes are clearer than the day,
The Sunne's but darke, to him Ile say,
If he with-hold his beames from thee,
What mayst thou then but darknesse be.

90

He findes that out, which thou canst not,
And from his light cannot a jot,
Be hid, what ere he brings to thee,
All first by him, discerned be.


91

The smallest things both good and bad,
God sees them all, and ever had
A just accompt, he alwayes takes,
View, of what man no reck'ning makes.

92

At all times, he doth us descrie,
And finde our turnings presently.
There is no darknesse with him mixt,
He's here and there, yet ever fixt.

93

At all times, in all places too;
He is, though we with much adoe,
Cannot be brought to understand,
Or thinke he's still so neare at hand.

94

Christ was that Light, that did excell,
Though he did in a stable dwell,
A while: yet then, so perfect cleere,
Our blessed day-starre did appeare.


95

And Light from heaven downe he brought,
Of some desir'd, Of some unsought,
For men did rather darknesse love,
Then Light, that came from God above.

96

The blessed Spirit, is that Light,
That dwels within, and gives us sight.
To see our selves, and to discerne,
The good from bad, and makes us learne.

97

The Light of comfort in distresse,
Comes still from him, he doth expresse,
The Light of Glory to the soule,
Where he doth rule without controule.

98

In heaven' God himselfe's the Light,
Christ ruling with his princely might,
The spirit shines eternally;
They all agree in unitie.


99

God makes thee as an instrument,
To bring about his blest intent.
To spread thy beames ore all for use,
That they might be without excuse.

100

God gives thee, as a gift to those,
For helpe, that are thy cursed foes,
To shew his bountie, and his love,
But have no part in thee above.

101

Nor that, that's graven in the minde,
For that alone, his friends doe finde,
As types of heaven, thou art here,
To them, till they doe see thee there.

102

Who would not lovethee, while they may,
Enjoy thee walking? for thy way,
Is pleasure and delight, let such,
That see thee chuse thee, prize thee much.


103

The Light of grace, that's in the heart,
Let's still esteeme it as a part,
Of heaven: and long for the rest,
The light of Glory, with the blest.

104

Lord raise our hearts, with true desire,
To thee, and let our soules aspire,
With joy, the best part of our glory,
Thou art: with thee Ile end my story.


OF LIFE.

The Charge and the Argument.

Of Life in Generall.

And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living thing, according to his kinde, and the Cattell according to his kinde, and every creeping thing of the earth, according to his kinde, and God saw that it was good. Gen. 1. 25.

The Lord God also made man of the dust of the ground, and breathed in his face the breath of Life, &c. Gen. 2. 7.

Neverthelesse I live, yet not I now, but Christ liveth in me, and the life that I live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Sonne of God, who hath loved me, and gave himselfe for me. Gal. 2. 20.

The gift of God is eternall life, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Rom. 6. 23.



1

Muse, raise thy tune, with lively voice,
Thy Theame is Life, now forthy choice,
Thou hast varieties to sing:
The Plants, the Beasts, doe yeeld thee store,
Mans life, by nature, gives thee more.
Both sweet and sowre, yet but one thing.


2

The life of grace, may call thee debter,
If that thou dost not sing the better,
His worth, his beauty, and his praise:
The Life of glory doth excell,
But that thou canst not sing so well,
Except thou wert with him alwayes.

Of life in Generall,

and of the Vegetative Life of Plants.

3

Life thou wast breath'd from God above,
And art a token of his Love,
To all his creatures thou wast best:
Himselfe in thee, he did set forth,
The living God, of glorious worth,
Shewes how in thee, his workes are blest.


4

Thou giv'st a Luster to the earth,
All beauty, joy, and pleasant mirth,
Attend thy presence with good will:
Thou art the forme of orders frame,
And thou art blessed, in thy name:
And all the world doe praise thee still.

5

The plants that live a senselesse life,
To shew thy vertue, are at strife,
For to exceed in growth each other:
They gratifie thy kindnesse when,
They bring forth fruit to pleasure men:
Thy fruitfulnesse they doe not smother.

6

Some for the taste so pleasant are,
Some physicall, are found so rare,
As some are pleasant to the eye:
Thou in them all, hadst first a being.
In feeding, clothing, and in seeing.
And shew'st a lively majesty.


7

A little seed, thou mak'st to be,
A comely, sweet, and fruitfull tree:
And colours shine, so in a flower,
That all may say thou art a guest,
To be esteem'd above the rest;
For all increase is by thy power.

8

And when they are besieg'd with cold,
Which threatens death, yet thou art bold,
To keepe possession under ground:
Fast in the roots; there thou dost dwell,
So close, that none can thee expell;
Thy private holes cannot be found.

9

When thou with patience, and with strength,
Hast overcome thy foes at length;
Then thou in triumph dost display,
Thy lively colours every where;
And thou dost smile with pleasing cheere,
Then all our sorrow turnes to joy.


10

Then sweet and mildely, thou dost raigne,
Not tyrant-like, by force to gaine,
A kingdome: for it is thy due
Thou dost advance the feeble plants,
That hangs the head, and succour wants,
That gav'st them garments, fresh and new.

11

But if they doe receive a wound,
Then thou dost languish in a sound,
With griefe; till thou art forc't to part:
But if he leave a stocke behinde,
Then for his sake thou art so kinde,
That thou dost cherish up his heart.

12

But if that we desire to use,
The plants, thou wilt not us refuse,
But of them freely we may take
A better life, for to preserve:
So every meanes thou dost observe,
Deni'st thy selfe there for mans sake.


13

They put their mouthes, and suck reliefe,
From earth their mother being chiefe,
For native soile, to feed them still:
She never yet was knowne to grutch,
Though they did draw never so much;
From her, but each one had his fill.

14

Unlesse they were from place to place,
Remov'd, as strangers in that case;
So strange might be their welcome cheare:
But when acquaintance grew they found,
Such food; that profit to the ground
They brought, and blessings left they there.

15

They cannot walke, but being fixt,
Their profit is with pleasure mixt,
Thou dost not vagrants of them make,
But where we leave them, there they stay,
And thou dost watch them, that we may,
Still of their fruits in plentie take.


16

Thou art in fruit, when it is drie,
Being scortcht or drown'd still thou dost lye,
In it, the quintessenee to prove;
Or else our meate, and drinke would be,
But dead steps, to our miserie:
In this we finde thy constant love.

OF THE SENSITIVE Life of Beasts.

17

The beasts that live of reason voide,
Thou art by sense of them enjoy'd,
They love thy presence, and they shew,
That they beholding to thee are:
They to preserve thee have a care,
As though they did thy goodnesse know.


18

They know the meanes, and doe desire,
Their food, as wages for their hire:
To maintaine life, the ground of all:
The worke or service that they doe,
Thy principles doe manage too.
If thou dost leave them downe they fall.

19

They seeke to finde a place of ease,
And as a friend they would thee please,
To shew that they doe thee regard;
And if they finde it, then they take,
Delight, it's all still for thy sake,
But thou dost them for this reward.

20

They shun the meanes that would destroy
Thee, they resist, or run away,
When feare of losing thee they doubt:
They use thy power, claime a right
In thee: as Beasts they doe delight,
Yet cannot rightly set thee out.


21

They live in pastures pleasantly,
And never thinke of dangers nigh,
Thou giv'st them freely such content,
By sense they know no time but that,
Till with thy friendship, they grow fat:
Then death their pleasures doe prevent.

22

At last they struggle so for life,
And with the butchers are at strife,
To keepe thee still, and thou dost greeve,
But yet by force, thou must depart,
Though it doth vexe thee to the heart.
They cry, thou canst not them releeve.

23

Thou mak'st them nimble, active, strong,
And comely too, but then ere long,
When thou dost part, deformed they,
Remaine: and never have thee more.
Thou hast no life for them in store,
When once thou tak'st thy flight away.


OF THE LIFE OF Reason in men:

Or, Naturall Life.

24

Tdis doth not trouble thee so much,
To part with plants, or beasts as such
As live a life of Reason, then,
Thou hadst thy being here below,
That thou thy selfe, might'st now bestow,
Most freely on the Sonnes of men.

25

The grasse that lives for Beasts, does die,
And beasts for men, good reason why,
That they might live to serve the Lord,
In this let Life with us agree,
To differ plants, and beasts, from we,
Then we with Life shall still agree.


26

To man thou art the sweetest thing,
For thou all comfort still dost bring.
Thy presence gives content to all.
They spend their meanes thee to maintaine,
What ere they lose, if thee they gaine,
Thou dost delight both great and small.

27

Thou giv'st a beautie to the face,
And thou art still the comeli'st grace,
To all; there's nothing like to thee,
Though thou art seated in the heart,
Thou do'st appeare in every part,
And thou alone, thy selfe canst see.

28

And thou of all, art much desir'd,
And with the world they'l not be hir'd.
To leave thee: but to thee as right,
Doe yeeld themselves, and doe obey
Thee; and by walking on their way,
They shew thy glory, and thy might.


29

Thou causest clods of earth to walke,
And giv'st us breath, by thee we talke,
And knowledge too, for to discerne,
What's good, what's bad, and so we chuse
The good, and doe the bad refuse.
And by thee we may ever learne.

30

Thou stil desirest for our good,
Such naturall convenient food,
That thou thy freedome might'st enlarge,
To us thy love thou dost expresse.
To have us shun all vaine excesse:
And thou at all times bear'st the charge.

31

When once thou dost a danger spie,
Thou giv'st us warning presently,
And shew'st that thou dost us esteeme,
But if we cannot it avoid,
But must with trouble be annoyd,
Thou dost us labour to redeeme.


32

But if thou canst not with thy skill,
Relieve us in our sorrow still,
With us thou stay'st to beare apart;
For thou dost greeve to see us weepe,
And wait'st our leisures while we sleepe,
Which brings some ease, unto the heart.

33

Much miserie thou dost endure,
With us, and yet thou nere art sure,
To be rewarded for thy paines;
Thou stay'st with us a little while,
Thou dost but come and give a smile,
We cannot call thee here our gaine.

34

Alas, I cannot but lament,
For thou hast still a true intent,
To doe us good, thou dost indeavour;
But we thy proffers doe abuse,
Or else so sleightly doe them use,
There's cause of feare, to lose thee ever.


35

Thou'rt gone sometimes, before we know,
How to enjoy thee herebelow,
Thou dost on sudden take thy time,
We judge thee comming on a pace,
But thou dost leave us in disgrace,
When we are comming to our prime.

36

If thou dost tarry with old age,
Then like a Bird within the cage,
Thou long'st still for thy libertie:
For there thou canst not use thy strength,
Yet thou art quiet, then at length,
You both are freed from miserie.

37

God breath'd thee first, in the beginning,
In man, but he lost thee by sinning.
And ever since thou art so strange,
Thou art a tennant here at will,
There is no lease, though we try still,
We cannot know our time of change.


38

We cannot say, 'tis long of thee,
That we endure such miserie,
But 'tis from change we doe receive,
Such bitter potions in this world,
But when we in our graves are hurl'd,
Then thou of us dost take thy leave.

39

Thou dost not bring us to distresse,
But we bring thee into no lesse,
Our sins thy vigor so doe quell,
That if there were no other course,
To drive thee out, we should grow worse,
Till we did thee from us expell.

40

Thy foes are many, great and strong,
They dwell in Garrisons among
Thy souldiers: and they pitch their tents,
Surpriz'd thou art within the field,
And death doth come, which makes thee yeeld
With engines, and with instruments.


41

Men have not here enough of thee,
That live in pride and jollitie,
Thou act'st thy part, then thou art gone,
Alas thy Scene here is so short,
They cannot shew their sinfull sport,
As they would, then they make their mone,

42

They doe not draw their Cesternes dry,
Nor suck the sweet, nor sore so high,
Nor do that mischiefe they desire,
They have not time to bring to passe,
Their cursed ends; their emptie glasse,
Doth shew death comes, and brings their hire.

43

Men make thee shorter, than thou art,
By playing here so vile a part,
They drinke, or curse thee out of doore,
They love thee not, so well as those,
Things that take thee away; and foes
They to themselves appeare therefore.


44

How few are there, that set thee forth,
In practice, or to spread thy worth;
Doe praise thee in a living frame?
They hide thee so in heapes of dust,
That thou art eaten up with rust:
Men cannot know thee, but by name,

45

Thou wilt away, ere it be long,
Who would not use thee being strong,
Set out thy beautie inits kinde:
Let's all indeavour while we may,
With life t'enjoy a happie day,
Shew that we live in heart and minde.

46

Let principles within us move,
Still to the fruits of living love,
Towards God and man, that we may shew,
That we have not our lives in vaine,
But of them make such blessed gaine.
That others may its power know.


47

Thy props decay, ere thou dost fall,
With want, disease, afflictions all,
Conspire against thy living breath,
Thy comforts die, and leave thee here,
Thy joyfull presence turnes to feare,
And who so welcome then as death.

48

Thou hid'st thy selfe within the breast,
But death will never let thee rest,
But hunts thee till he drives thee thence,
Life takes his leave upon the lips,
Away in silence, then he skips
Unseene, but mist with present sense.

49

But thee, I cannot chuse but blame,
Me thinkes thou hast an emptie name,
How can I truly call thee Life?
When evils come, thou giv'st us sense,
And so we have for recompence,
The fruits of sin, which turnes to strife.


50

Most men doe thee desire long,
When they are active, rich and strong,
And live in pleasure, health, and ease,
If they old age and sorrow see,
Thou dost increase their miserie,
Thy friendship turnes unto disease.

51

A stab, disease, or gust of winde,
Will turne thee out, thou art inclin'd,
For small occasions to distaste,
Thou leav'st us still to pay the rent,
We for thy sake, are often shent,
Thou leav'st the house ruin'd and waste.

52

When thou art parting, then the eye,
Growes dimme, the visage presently,
Doth looke so dreadfull, and so pale,
The feet and hands doe grow so cold,
The bodie fashions to the moulde,
The tongue that falters in the tale.


53

If we could see thee there, we'd stay,
But thou dost slily glide away,
And leave the creature, deafe and dumbe,
Me thinkes thou shouldst thy house repaire,
And make it wholsome, sweet and faire,
What, wilt thou to it, no more come?

54

But when thou art thus forc't to part,
And tak'st thy vale of the heart,
Then sad and dismall is thy voice,
That heavie parting, wrings out teares,
With greefe and anguish, mixt with feares.
Our friends will grieve, our foes rejoyce.

55

What horrour doe poore men conceive,
When thou dost take thy solemne leave,
Which leaves no hope to meet againe,
The shadow then of death indeed,
Makes way for hell, he sowes such seed,
The fruit of which, is endlesse paine.


56

VVe are arrested for thy debt,
And in a prison we are set,
A yard at least, within the ground;
And thou the principall art gone,
And we must beare the brunt alone,
Non est inventus, gives a sound.

57

Now life doe thou my counsell take,
'Gainst sin and death, a partie make,
And in defiance ever stand:
Take courage to thee, shew thy power.
And let them not the world devoure,
Then live thou blessed in the land.


OF THE NEW LIFE.

OR, THE LIFE OF Grace in the Soule.

58

New Life and true, when thou art made,
Within the soule, thou dost not fade,
But dost thy freshnesse still retaine,
Thou art not subject then to die,
Above all ill thou dost espie,
Such things: as brings in perfect gaine.


59

Thou li'st so close unto the soule,
There is no power can controule,
Thy blessed state, or yet remove,
Thy siege; for thou hast made it strong:
And thou hast patience us among,
There thou art constant in thy love.

60

Confusion, deadnesse, did beset,
Our hearts, till vict'ry thou did'st get,
Ore us, and brought us into frame,
And thou at all times dost thy best,
To settle living peace and rest,
Ore us: to bring a blessed name.

61

We cannot see nor apprehend,
Thee; but thou dost thy power bend,
Which doth thy presence then discover,
That men unskild in art may read,
Thy booke of life, being open spread,
Thou art an upright constant lover.


62

Though thou art weakned there sometimes,
By treachery, and hainous crimes,
That men doe thinke thy force is rais'd,
Yet cause thou canst with fresh supply,
Of new fetcht power from on high,
Quicken repentant soules, thou'rt prais'd.

63

And if thou dost receive a wound,
Or else through faintnesse in a swound,
Fall: then thou hast a present cure,
The bloud of him, that once was slaine,
By death, he did thy freedome gaine,
This thou apply'st, and dost endure.

64

Thou art a shelter to all those,
To whom thou dost thy selfe disclose:
A faithfull friend thou art indeed,
What they doe lend thee, thou dost pay,
And with increase, much every day,
Thou dost returne their fruitfull seed.


65

In troubles thou dost us defend,
If thou canst not our sorrowes end,
Thou dost support us in the same:
Thou dost our parts then ever take,
We are belov'd, 'tis for thy sake,
Who would not joy, to heare thy name.

66

Thou little wast at first, bur thou
Dost much increase, we know not how,
Thou dost not alwayes grow by sence;
But afterwards we may perceive,
That thou dost with us vigor leave,
So fruitfull is thy recompence.

67

Comely and sweet, needs thou must be,
Thou cam'st from heaven, so that we.
Doe entertaine the heavens guest;
And this is all thy drift I know,
For to instruct us here below,
And then to lead us to our rest.


68

In heaven still remaines thy spring,
While we on earth thy praises sing,
So we can never draw thee dry:
The more we have, the more we may,
Draw from thy fulnesse; more I say,
We have it free, we need not buy.

69

Thy root's above, yet thou art here,
I nere knew any graffe to beare,
So distant as you seeme to be;
But when I finde thy root doe grow,
By faith in men, as thou dost now,
My differing thoughts doe then agree.

70

Thou art so comely to behold,
If I had art, thee to unfold,
I'd shew the beautie of thy face,
That men should thee so much admire,
And love should kindle such desire,
As for thy love, to sue apace.


71

But thou art shadow'd so with sin,
Men cannot know thee so within,
As otherwise, thou would'st appeare,
And misconceits, doe vale thee too,
We cannot finde with much adoe
Thy glory out, though ne're so cleare.

72

And men that are but poore and base,
In outward things, yet in this case,
Excell: they seeme thy face to hide,
The world thinkes not, that poore aray,
Can harbour thee, that art so gay,
The truth of this is dayly tri'd.

73

Men thinke there is no difference,
'Twixt thee, and thy sweet influence,
And naturall life, that is so poore,
They prize that more, for that they know,
Which lives by sense, like beasts below,
Till they have spent their fading store.


74

Thou dost preserve the chiefest part,
The soule; and guardest so the heart,
And living comforts dost bring in,
All other sweetnesse dies apace,
And leaves their masters in disgrace,
They are like blanks, which nothing winne.

75

Men cannot have of thee too much,
Nor yet dost thou to any grutch,
Thy strength at need, if they thee chuse,
And thou dost use thy mighty power,
Against all those that would devoure,
Them, or their life seeke to abuse.

76

All things that furthers thy increase,
The fruit of joy, the word of peace,
Thou dost them use as excellent,
With all good meanes, thou dost agree,
To helpe our growth's as we may see,
To make us lively, is thy bent.


77

Thy fruit is pleasant, for to taste,
And faire, plentifull and vaste,
They onely know it, that doe finde,
Thee, in their soules; and they can tell,
How thou in goodnesse dost excell,
Thy praises please well such a minde.

78

But they that to this life are strange,
And never knew what 'tis to change,
They see no favour in thy face,
Nay, some will ever be at strife,
For such as stand for thee their life,
And would thy Image quite deface.

79

Thou art not stain'd with hatefull pride,
Nor any other sin beside;
Thou keep'st thy selfe, still free from all,
Though we sin here, 'tis so we must,
Till we are levell with the dust,
But thou dost bring our soules from thrall.


80

Thou art so like a Turtle true,
When death doth claime us for his due.
Thou would'st not leave us, till the last;
The soule then too, enjoyes her fill,
Of thee, and dwels in heaven still,
Wishing that that black storme were past.

OF THE LIFE OF Glorie.

81

At last the bodie thou wilt meet,
With triumph and with joy so sweet,
To welcome home thy ancient friend;
The bodie and the soule rejoyce,
That ever they made thee their choyce,
This joy shall never have an end.


82

Now thou in heaven dost excell,
Thy glory there, I cannot tell,
How to expresse the least degree:
The Saints above, that weare thy crowne,
Can truly blaze, thy rich renowne,
I wish that I were there to see.

83

No death, nor sorrow there doth waite,
There is no sin, to lay a baite,
Nor yet the shadow of distresse,
There is no cause of feare, for ever,
The Divell durst nere to indeavour,
For to attempt thee more or lesse.

84

Thou art so full of beautie then,
Thou shin'st so in the soules of men,
Their bodies doe enjoy the same,
Their soules and bodies are more bright,
Than starres are in the clearest night,
All life to this, doth seeme but lame.


85

That's nothing else but light divine,
Thou in the meanest Saint dost shine,
Transparently, and sweetly still,
All Saints and Angels doe accord,
With thee to praise the living Lord,
And all of them there have their fill.

86

Thou art so active too, that now,
All things are pleasure to thee; thou,
No stop at all haste in thy wayes;
Thy vigor's quicke and nimble too,
The worke that thou hast there to doe,
The living God, 'tis still to praise.

87

Thy glory is exceeding great,
O tree of life, who of thee eate,
Are no way subject to decay,
And all that doe enjoy thee there,
Their glory doth in thee appeare,
Most blessed evermore are they.


88

The God of life doth honour give,
To thee himselfe doth with thee live,
Thy worth is farre above the skie,
He rules by thee, and in his Love,
Thou shalt be blest with him above,
Past time, to all eternitie.
FINIS.


THE ARRAIGNMENT, Together with the condemnation of Sinne, and Death.

OR, A Discovery of the alluring sleights of Sinne:

And then Tormenting. For which he is accused, and legally condemned. So likewise Death being unsatiable, he's accus'd and condemned. A Repreive beg'd by Sathan for them; granted by the Lord, upon condition. Whereunto are added, sundry Directions and Instructions, for our conversations touching Sinne and Death.



THE ALLVRING SLEIGHTS OF SIN, AND PROMISES.

First, for the Thoughts.

The Argument, with charge to the Muse.

Muse, raise thy voice, arm'd with revenge to sin.
Disclose his plots, and evidence give in


Against him; though he his defence do make,
Dash't with reply, for the poore sinners sake,
Bring verdict in, then sentenc't let him be,
To hell: his pleaders judge to miserie.

The alluring nature of sinne.

When sinne with heavens Angels found successe,
And since that time (on earth) hath found no lesse,
It goes on still, to bring men downe to hell,
Where Sathan is, which once above did dwell.
Yet for reward, doth promise much content.
So serpent like, it doth men circumvent.
Sinne first begins, much like a rubbing sore,
A little give, that little cals for more.
Thus many littles doe rise to a summe,
And so insnar'd from sin, then few do come.
Man loves his sin, but sin returnes him hate,
Man bids a price, but sin holds up its rate.
Man gives his hand, his eye, or any part,
All will not serve, till sin hath got the heart.
What think'st thou me (saith sin) to be so base,
That give delight, to any of that race?
That doth me love, and tread my pleasant wayes,
Ile give thee mirth, come now fulfill my joyes.
If rich thou wilt, then rich thou sure shalt be,
Or to be great; Ile greatnesse promise thee,


If to be wise, thou set thy hearts desire,
Come follow me, and men shall thee admire.
Name what thou wilt, and thou shalt have thy minde,
Unto me onely loving be and kinde.
Ile change my selfe, to Angell shape to please,
Thy humours fond, and so I will thee ease.
If merry thou, then merry will I be,
If sad thou art, Ile seeme to greeve for thee;
If play thou wilt, then will I make thee sport,
And shew my face, when thou art all amort.
Come please thy thoughts: thy thoughts are now as mine,
Thy thoughts are free, to sin thy thoughts incline,
Sometimes to pride, sometimes to lust and rage,
Sometime to scorne the best men of the age.
Sometime sin past, let on thy thoughts long stay,
Sometime let present sin, drive that away:
Sometime thy thoughts for sin to come, be prest,
Till it come forth, let thy thoughts never rest,

The desperate temptation of sinne, to vile words.

And let thy words be lying, proud, and stout,
Still make thy selfe, the best of all the rout:
Great words of slanders, malice, strife, & wrong,
Why art thou made, but thus to use thy tongue?


Say what thou wilt, to any, never care,
Speake loftily to fooles, they'l thinke thee rare,
Draw men with words to me, ile thee reward,
When they by meanes of thee, doe me regard,
Plead thou for sinne, but for the adverse part,
Sweare, curse them down, & vex them to the hart.

The cursed temptation of sin, to hellish practises.

So let thy practise answerable be
To thoughts and words, as thou hast learn'd of me.
Deny no sin, no pride, or wanton lust.
Grow rich by fraud, see on the world thou trust.
What needst thou care (for rich) when thou art fed,
Both full and fat, with the deceitfull bread.
And for the poore, what are the poore to thee?
Care for thy selfe, poore thou in time maist be.
Get what thou canst, returne it not againe,
And seeke thy ease, though others are in paine.
And if on any, goods or money spend,
Let be on such, as such like things intend.
Resort to such, as goe in the same way,
Which Sathans guard, attend on every day.
Care not to pray, good books read not, nor heare,
Love pleasant things, for back and belly cheare:
Detract from good men, see thou honour give,
To those that serve me, and most rudely live.


Shame truth in practise, out of favour strike it,
Be still perverse, and I shall ever like it,
And to observe these things be thou addrest,
What's wanting now, ere long shall be exprest.

The blasphemous consent of the sinner to the temptations of sinne.

If this be true, that sinne doth promise me,
Ile follow it, and so we shall agree.
To please my selfe shall be my chiefest care,
Oppose me not: I thinke no man doth dare.
Why should I not in sinfull thoughts delight?
Why should I not speake proudly in despight?
Ile be perverse, in practise, say who will,
Turne backe thy heart, in sinne take not thy fill.
What can I wish, but pleasure and content?
This I shall have, I need not to repent.
I shall be rich and great, I like it well,
And counted wise, with them 'mongst whom I dwell.
Why should I live a melancholy life?
And lose the sweet of sinne to purchase strife?
I am not bound to any, rich or poore,
Get what I can, Ile part with nere the more.
Unlesse it be to such, as love sins hire,
Feare not the fable of eternall fire:
Good men, and goodnesse, I will still disgrace,
Ere I have done, truth shall not shew her face.


Ile be a refuge to the viler sort,
To jeere Religion, shall be still my sport:
So Ile goe on in sin, without controule,
What dost thou mean? speak thou immortal soul.

A divine speech of the Soule to the bodie.

Why dost thou thus, adde daily sinne to sinne?
Why dost thou gender horror thus within?
Why dost thou sell thy self, wchonce was bought,
With Christ his bloud (for sin) which brings thee nought.
Shame and confusion follow thee in hast,
All thy delights, then quickly will be past:
Why wast thou made, that thou dost thy indeavor
Going about to purchase hell for ever?
Or what have I done, that thou sell'st me quite,
For aye to dwell, with everlasting night?
Wast thou not made to helpe and succour me?
Was I not made to teach and comfort thee?
Was not Gods Image stampt upon me when,
He breath'd me life, as he did other men?
Why labor'st thou, to make me like the devill?
Who can be lesse, when he hath done so evill?
Thou art become a prison to me now,
And to be freed (alas) I know not how,
Open this prison, that I must not doe,
By violence; for that is sinfull too.


O that I had but freedome for to flie,
From this dunghill, that doth upon me lie,
Then to the mountaine of eternall rest,
There would I live, and dwell among the blest.

The speech of the Soule workes effectually bringing the Sinner to the brinke of despaire.

Alas poore soule, thy lamentation greeves me,
Nothing I have, of what sinne saith he gives me:
But horrid conscience with his dreadfull store,
Brings evils on me, and these call for more.
Sin promis'd sweet, the sowre comes in place,
And credit too, and for it comes disgrace:
And to be rich, but who so poore as I?
My wisedome is, true folly I descrie.
Nothing of truth doth once from sin proceed,
Sin is untruth, in thought, in word, and deed:
Thy painted face, I doe defie and scorne,
Woe worth the time that ever I was borne,
To make a league with thee, the mouth of hell,
Where I ere long (I feare) must goe to dwell.


Every Creature brings report of vengeance.

When to the heavens, I doe lift mine eye,
They all at once, my sins so great defie.
And doe disdaine, to smile upon me so,
I apprehend, each one is turn'd my foe.
When I astorme or tempest see appeare,
My thoughts are troubled with perplexed feare.
The fiery storme that never will blow ore,
I thinke comes toward, for me laid up in store,
I being foule; or if the weather faire,
It shames me quite, and fils me with despaire:
And if a Christian meet me, I thinke then,
I shame the company of all such men,
If one as vile (I note) as I have beene,
He brings fresh torment, such is seldome seene,
When in the streets I goe, I feare some tile,
Will vengeance take, on me that am so vile.
A beast I see at slaughter, then I sorrow,
'Tis thine to day (thinke I) it's mine to morrow:
And when I eate or drinke, I feare Gods hand,
With meate in mouth, will cut me from the land.
The little Birds that lift their notes on high,
With pleasant tunes my foulnesse doe defie,
They free from care, ten thousand on me waite,
They flye from snares, sin takes me with its bait.


The earth I tread on, murmures for to beare me,
All things upon't, with one consent do feare me:
And when it's chopt, me thinks it threats to swallow,
Me quicke: for I still in my sin do wallow:
Of raine that falls to cause a pleasant crop,
I feare ere long, to be deni'd one drop
VVhen heapes of dust, in pit's cast, I think still,
All such as I, th' infernall pit must fill,
VVhen I see men, cut downe the tender grasse,
Then fearful thoughts within my breast do passe,
Thinking I see Times sithe, (that is sins hire)
To make me fewell for devouring fire.
When night draws on the day then draws away,
It's like that night, that never will decay,
That utter darknesse which in hell will be,
The thoughts of which, adde to my miserie
VVhen I put off my rayment, then thinke I,
The wormes will come to supper by and by:
VVhen I lye downe (in bed) desiring sleepe,
My body hath no rest, my soule doth weepe.
If slumber, doth but once, possesse mine eyes,
My cōscience calls for wrath, for vengeance cries,
The starres that twinckle when I chance to see,
They seem to blush at my deformitie.
VVhen morning light appeareth to my sight,
I wish for wings, to fit me for a flight.
Lest that should bring me naked on the stages,
And make me odious to all after ages.


Thus am I still afraid, of time and place,
And every thing, my ruine brings a pace.
Help I have none, the Lord he will not heare me,
For when I pray, his angry lookes doe feare me:
Sathan stands by, and claimes me for his owne,
Sin helpes me not; by sin I'm overthrowne.

Sinne failes of his promises, and doomes the Sinner to miserie.

Now sin speaks truth, that seldome truth doth tel,
I will thee helpe, but 't shall be into hell;
What thou hast done, I pray thee blame not me,
For what I 'ue done, my office sets me free,
I am enabled by the devils power,
For to enlarge his kingdome every houre:
VVhy should not I thus promise much content?
Although the truth be far frō such event:
How would such fooles brought be to lust and pride,
Were not il things as good things beautified?
Thou car'dst for none, who now doth care for thee?
Away, be gone into thy miserie.

By Faith and Prayer, hee claimes an interest in Gods mercie.

O Lord this horror justly falles upon me,
The rage of sinne, and Sathan lies upon me.


And now I sincke, for ever, to the darke,
Eternall pit; where hellish curres doe barke:
All comforts faile, Lord if thou faile me too,
I am undone, to make no more adoe.
Was never none restor'd, that was so bad?
Was never none brought backe, and mercy had?
Thy hand was up, and yet thou did'st not strike,
Save me, for I my former wayes dislike.
My sins are great, greater thy mercies are,
My sins are many, more thy mercies farre.
What though my sins exceed in weight & measure,
Thou with a word canst ease me at thy pleasure.
My sinnes doe but as creatures sins appeare,
But mercie from a God, frees men from feare.
VVhy did'st thou send thy son frō heaven to die
But them to save, that under wrath did lye?
And so to free from under Sathans band,
And to redeeme poore, captives by his hand?
And I am one, that in my sight am lost,
Seeke me againe, let Sathans will be crost.
And then will I thy goodnesse still unfold,
And cause poore sinners mercy to behold.

Hee findes successe in his suit with God.

Alas poore man! I pitie on thee take,
I doe intend, thee my redeem'd to make:


Thou shalt from sinne and Sathan be set free,
Onely, thou shalt be servant unto me.
I heard thy mone, my bowels could not stay,
To grant thy suit no longer Ile delay.
Thy dreadfull passion came before my sight,
Then my compassion sent down heavenly light:
I will thee make an instrument of praise,
To fight with sin and Sathan, all thy dayes.
Seeing I have brought thy soule and body back,
From hell, whether sin commanded thee to pack,
And after thou hast serv'd me here in love,
Then thou shalt dwell with me in heaven above.
And sin and death, that sought to ruine thee,
Shall be arraign'd, and both condemn'd by me.

The nature of Death, with his unsatiable speech and lamentation.

VVhen death by sin, had once possest the earth,
And found that man was mortall made by birth,
Still since that time, he strikes at all mankinde,
As well the great, as those that come behinde.
The first man living, though a mighty King,
Death ventred on, and struck him with his sting.
All good & bad, that liv'd in ancient time,
Though some liv'd long, yet some died in their prime.
The best that ever on the earth had breath,
Though free from sin, yet was not freed frō death


So till this day experience proveth true,
He darts down some and claimes the rest for due.
His hungry jawes will ner'e be satisfied,
While one doth live and on the earth abide.
And if that once the man that lives he have.
Brought down to death he bars him in the grave
And so triumphs, and rules among the slaine,
For where his kingdome is there he doth raigne,
When he hath pill'd the world, of all her store,
Though this is done (yet) still he wishes more.
O, that there were an other world or two,
I would to worke and make no more adoe.
O that I mght but use, my kingly power,
Then I would seek mans ruine every hower.
Graves yeeld no food, that give me such content,
As living, flesh, to that my mind is bent.
Nothing there is, so pleasant to my taste,
As lives of men, when I doe lay them waste.
What, am I made a King but for a time?
No power can I use, amongst the slime,
Unlesse it be, the silly wormes to slay,
That can I in the least part of the day.
I thought I should have been a King for ever,
Sin set me up I doing my indeavour.
Perform'd the worke that I was bid to doe,
I fear'd no man for I was hardy too.
As sure, so quicke, for in a little space,
All nations, people were brought in deadly case.


And must I needs give ore this mighty trading:
Which cōstant was, though all the world was fading.
This is not all (I think) I heard some say,
I must be bound ore to the judgement day:
If it be so, I my defence will make,
As Kings of all their subjects, place doe take.
Untill that time, you'l heare no more of me,
How stands the case, then all the world shall see.

Sinnes probable destinie.

Sinne's now accus'd, with all his sinfull crimes,
Laid to his charge, 'tis corrupt are the times:
The righteous man, which doth against sin stand,
Is very like to have the upper hand.
Unto the seate of Justice sin is brought,
An equall judge doth never stand for nought.
But tries the truth, and gives to each his due,
When once of it, he hath had a carefull view.

Sinne being apprehended, is accused before an impartiall Judge.

Sinne hath me vext, ere since I had a being,
And all men else, that carefull are in seeing;
Shall finde him plotting mischiefe with his will,
VVith malice, murther, striving for to kill.


The seed of good, that in mans heart are sowne,
And every plant that is not of his owne.
If one be good, that hee would from him take,
If one be bad, he tries him worse to make.
From bad to worse: from worse, to worst of all,
More could I say, sin counts these things but smal.

Sinnes vile answer and Request.

Answer to this, what, is this true or no?
Tis all but lyes, he is my deadly foe.
He speakes for malice his words have no favor,
Hee's but a foole, and thinkes to curry favour.
Because (forsooth) I am not so precise,
Though I doe sweare, he tells as many lies,
He hates my waies, and I hate his as much,
I doe him scorne as also loath to touch.
What though in mirth I take my liquor well,
What though I brawle, & rail with them I dwel.
What though I play and sport, both day & night,
Though I blaspheme, and court what I might.
I force no man if I can any draw
With craft or fraud, I hold it in good law.
This I will add, I'le open all my store,
Seeing he is vext, I'le vexe him ten times more
Because indeed, I doe not often pray,
And when I doe, my heart shall be away,


He'd have me read, and heare a blacke reproach,
Poore foolish things, yet farre above my reach.
Pray Sir consider (this) and free me quite,
Out of the hands of this malicious wight.

The Impartiall Iudge his answer, he turnes over Sinne and Death, to be tried by the Judge of the world.

Now well it is, I heard you each oue single,
But thy vile words have made my eares to tingle,
What he did say, thy words have now made worse
What cāst expect, but Gods eternal curse?
His words are true, thine most unjust appeare,
Sin's the Delinquent, the Righteous man I cleare;
Ile turne thee over to that righteous Judge,
To whom the world must yeeld, though many grudge.
There thy confession shalbe on record,
Besides the rest, that will come word for word:
I have no baile, must I in prison lye?
That matters not, from God thou canst not flye:
And Death, of whom I heare such ill report,
I understand to be thy great consort,
Call him to me: it's no matter, let him stay,
Both are reserv'd unto a greater day.
The righteous man, that did thee apprehend,
Will ruine thee, thou canst it not defend.


And Death by Life, will be undone also,
Your seeming friends, each one will turne a foe

The Righteous man hath leave granted to prosecute Sinne, and Life to prosecute Death.

Who's that below, that faine would speak with mee?
A poore sinner (Lord) that lies in miserie.
What is that other, which by thee doth stand?
Lord this is Life, that doth preserve a land.
What would yee have? speak both, for both have breath.
Free me from sin. Free me (likewise) from death.
What hath Sin done, or Death, seeing you desire?
Sin promis'd good; but death comes for sins hire.
Here they are both, give us both leave to speake,
If thou deny Lord, both our hearts will breake:
Both speak your minds, the Saints I made the Jewry,
All that doe ill, are like to taste my fury.
Now sinner speake, for righteous made thou art,
Not by thy workes; in Christ thou hast a part,
Life stay a while, a little silent be,
Then thou shalt speak, and none shal hinder thee?

The Information against sinne in generall.

Sinne was at first, where Angels now do dwell,
There ventred sin, & brought some down to hel.


When thou hadst man made, with thy blessed had
And for his sake had'st blessed all the Land,
(The best of earth) in place of Paradice,
Thou did'st man set; and set on him a price,
There he had then, all things at his command,
The fiercest creatures, then upon him faun'd.
This Tyrant did a breach soone after make,
Thou cursed'st man and all things for his sake.
Then thrust he was from Paradice so sweet,
The earth being curst, so justice thought it meete.
All fishe and fowle, then kept far of a lowring,
The beasts untam'd, and so became devouring.
Sin was the cause, Cain did his brother kill.
Poore Innocent! Lord 'twas against thy will.
And did not sin, those native tongues confound,
And Babels building levell with the ground?
So 'twas for sin, God drowned all the earth
A monstrous wombe, brings an untimely birth,
When fire on Sodom, and those goodly Cities,
Fell twas for sinne, wast not a thousand pities?
Nay, thou thine owne deliveredst by thy hand
Captives to be within a Heathen land,
For sin, and there a long time were in paine.
Till thou in mercy brought'st them backe againe,
Nay Christ himselfe when he a suretie came,
For man: then sin caus'd him to beare the blame,
A sinner he was, though this seemeth strange,
Twas not his owne, yet made his by exchange.


And twas for sinne thou didst prepare a hell,
Where sinne must be, and all that love it well.

The Information against sinne for his particular.

Now for my selfe, the greevance that I nd,
For ever doth torment me in my mind,
And drawes me on, to serve my cursed will,
Sometimes to one, sometimes to other ill.
From doing good, he hinders me, and when,
He cannot (thus) prevaile with me, O then,
He strives; to bring upon me other things
Cares of this world, which armed are with stings.
If to my dutie, constant I abide,
Then hee doth seek to puffe me up with pride.
At every turne, for me he layes a baite,
And ever for to catch mee lies in wait.
And if hee cath mee he is well, I sick,
If he do not, hee hath an other trick.
He tells me vengeance is for my reward,
The Lord, my service doth no whit regard
And fils my Conscience with such horrid store,
Of thoughts despayring as I said before.
Hee'd make me frame such hard conceits of thee,
That thou no mercie hast in store for me,
This is so bad, nay worse then all thats past,
For to forsake thy mercy at the last.


Now Lord I pray thee, thinke upon this case,
And root out sin, quite from mans living race.
For this is true, thou know'st it all full well,
Of all these things, thy blessed Saints can tell.
The truth of this, I know sinne doth defie it,
Put sinne aside, no creaturne can deny it.

Sinne begins, and railes at the person. He is confin'd to the charge.

What canst thou say? these things are too too bad!
Beleeve them not: this Rascall, he is mad.
'Tis not my sleights, my person 'tis he hates,
He speakes in grosse: and like a Parret prates:
As bad himselfe, in heart; though faire in shew,
With flatt'ring words, he cheateth not a few,
His life was base and vile 'twas knowne ful wel,
I saw such things, I am asham'd to tell
What, sin grow modest now? so doth the Devill,
This worse then bad, doth still increase thy evill.
Thou dost blaspheme (seeing) I this man do take,
To mercie and resolve him blest to make.
Dost thinke, that I, do not man search within
That I need thee, to agravate his sin?
Speake to the case, or else hold still thy tongue,
He hurts thee not, but thou dost him the wrong.


Sinnes defence for him selfe.

Thou knowest I am, allmost as old as time,
And yet I am, but comming to my prime.
I for thy Justice did prepare a place,
When none was found tis not a doubtfull case.
And what I doe, I doe it by permission,
And to thy will, I ever yeeld submission.
I trie the good, and make the badd appeare,
The world may know, who doth thee love & fear
In doing that, which I am bidde to doe,
But when tis done should I be guilty too.
I am a king and hold it in disgrace,
To be arraing'd (thus) in an open place.
Being so belov'd almost of every wight,
Except some few which owe to me a spite.
The most of which are weake, or else are poore,
And sometimes such that goe from dore to dore.
My labour's free, I never yet had pay,
I, of my stocke do spend still to this day.
But what I doe, I doe it by perswasion,
Not by constraint when I doe make invasion.
Some of the best, their weaknesse glory in,
Infirmities; what are they else but sin?
Nay sin in thine doth worke still for the best,
And through their trouble enter they to rest.


Sin thou forgivest, sinners with thee abide,
And so by me, thy mercies magnified.

Hee craves leave for his witnesses to speake.

Now let these speake, which I have cald to be
My witnesses, for they will stand for me.
Now all are here let Ignorance be first,
The second, hee that for redd earth doth thirst,
The third, the man, thats overcome with Lust,
The fourth be Pride, they speak will, what is just.

Leave is Granted.

Tis very like my Iustice will be knowne,
To thee, and them, when you are all orethrowne.
Come, let them speake in this thou hast thy will,
Although I know, twill nothing be but ill.


Old clownish Ignorance speakes first (hee is silenc'd.)

I hard my vather zay, that God dud make
A leeving mon his pleazar vor to take.
Above oll things himzelf he shood zarve vurst,
On that Belzebub woule wos accurst.
I know no harme of all that zin ere did me
I ready wos to doe what erezin bid me.
Ichave him knowne omost a hunderd yeere.
And never to this day put me in feare.
Now be me troth I leek him passing well,
He dos oll good vor ought thot I con tell,
Chamzure when I am zad he makes me merry
Zhaks of my dumps & makes me zing downdere
Chave knowne zomtimes when I was very zick
Zin made me well and zhowd zome pretty trick.
In oldorn times when zin was more regarded
Our lond by him was better then rewarded.
Now every boy zeems wizer than his Vather
And to be poor tho rich by zin tha'd rather
Twaz ne'r good world zēse we had zo much preaching
Vor zin goes down on beardles boies stās teaching
Who ere zaw noddies zhow themselves zo mad,
To vexe umzelves whon pease they mout a had;
Chaue zonns my selfe if they zo wise do prove
To vollow zuch they zoone shood lees my love.


Pray let him goe agen withuz to dwell,
Chamzure ould vokes, woll leek it vary well.
Come hold thy tongu thy vilenesmaks me grutch
Another speak for thou hast spoke too much.

Covetousnesse the second.

Sin liv'd with me, (as I may say) while now,
He made me rich, Ile not relate it how,
I car'd it faire, none could in me espie,
A noted fault to say black is thy eye.
My Gold I got by sinne doth my heart cherish,
And helpes at need when other helps do perish,
I ne'r knew griefe (that sin upon me brought,
Let them have grief (for me) that for grief sought.
I gaine by sin, give loosers leave to prate,
Wer't not for sin, I had nere got this estate.
If sin do good, why should he suffer bad?
Let sin have that, as formerly he had.
To stand for sin, I hold it my best part,
If sin goe downe, alas 'twill kill my heart.
What he did promise me, he also paid,
And what is false his enemie hath said.
Pray free him (now) or else I must restore,
My goods ill got. I have done, Il'e say no more.


Wanton Lust the Third.

I am sorry now, to see sin at the barr,
What is the cause this man proceeds so farre?
Sin ever did, with pleasure much delight me,
When all things else, did seeke still to affright me.
Sin was to me, still full of pleasing straines,
In my esteeme my pleasure is my gaines.
Say what you will, these tricks of youth all must,
Agree, to me, and will fulfill their lust,
Man is not made of all, to take direction,
Nor like a stock, to be without affection.
Sin shewes me beautie kindles my desire,
And then those sparkes, come to a flaming fire.
When many cares and feares, upon me stay,
Sins pleasant objects, drive them all away.
Sin's such a thing as brings to no man strife,
Sin is so sweet, I love it, as my life.
Let sin be quit, for he is good and kind,
Speake brother Pride, for I have spoke my mind


Pride the fourth.

I never knew, but Sinne went bravely drest,
And ever did accompany the best.
He went along, so gracefull in the street,
He joy'd my heart, when once I did sinne meet.
To all his friends observing time and place,
He'd be most free, or else he held it base.
At any feast, or any meeting then,
He tooke his place above all other men.
He spake so much, and in such lofty straines,
That all might see he had not shallow braines.
Himselfe behav'd with such great Majesty,
That each man did upon him cast his eye.
And by his lookes, he seem'd both grave and wise,
Poore silly men, alwayes he did despise.
He scorn'd to be a servant unto any,
But like a Lord, he sought to rule ore many.
He slights advice, his owne wayes like him best,
Once crosse his will, he cannot take his rest.
He ore his equals, us'd to domineere,
And his inferiours, alwayes kept in feare.
He hated all, that would not to him bend
And turnes his foe, though first, a seeming friend.
If he be once in place of Justice set,
He'd tyrannize, or otherwise would fret.


In lower place, if that he chanc't to be,
He would contemne and curse his miserie
And if that men, would not his counsell take,
Hee'd cast them off, and varlets of them make,
If one in parts, did but before him goe,
Then most of all, hee proved his deadly foe.
And all of whom, he gets the upper hand,
He keeps them down, and binds them in his band
All this and more like things, do call sin Father,
Sin is in hold, that hee were free Id'e rather.
Hees now by one that lou'd him once, betraid,
Hee's now in feare of him, he made afraid.
He hath been bold, but now he seemes to quake
I hope thou wilt some pity on him take.
Shall hee prevaile ore sin, when sin is stronger?
For he hates sin, when he can sin no longer.

A generall speech, rejecting sinnes witnesses, with a command for a reply.

Now sinne hath spoke, and all that for him stand
This will not doe, to free him from my hand.
His witnesses (sinne) have discovered cleare,
Though bad before now worse it doth appeare.
And they themselves, for standing on his side.
Will vile appeare, for they shall now betride.


Speake man thy mind in making thy reply,
Lay home the truth, that no man can deny.

A Reply against sins defence, particularly.

What is thy age, or what doth it availe?
I'ts nothing worth, when goodnes doth men fail?
It doth increase, and bring Gods wrath apace,
And for thy age, makes thee in worser case,
Twa's not thy mind that god should have the praise:
Pretending right, thou intend'st wicked waies.
God needs not sinne for to set forth his glory.
Nor any thing of all thy sinfull story.
This wicked way, that thou proceedest in,
Thou makest God, the author of thy sin:
God ne're approves thee, nor thy sinfull acts,
He made his lawe, to damne, thy cursed facts.
Thou dost oppose Gods will, with all thy might,
To yeeld to his law is against thee quite.
Tis not to trie, thou meanst but to destroy;
All living men thou seek'st still to annoy,
Good men, thou dost so hamper with thy snares,
And thou the bad, bring'st to eternall cares.
Thou lying wretch, doth God cōmand thee evil,
Then damn thee for't? thou hast it from the devill.
Thou art a King, if so I may beleeve thee
And shame with men, it seemes, doth now much greeve thee.


No shame before; thou other bring'st to shame,
Why should'st thou not, beare, now the greatest blame.
Mē do thee love, their love wil turn to hate
Thy friendship doth, make way still for debate.
The poore and weake, that do oppose thy way,
Will be too strong for thee, as thou shalt say,
Thy labours which were alwaies freely bent,
Were better spar'd then they should ill be spent.
What is thy stock? but cursed poisonous store
Still as thou spendst, increasing more and more,
Thou dost none force, but with thy subtil gins;
Thou hid'st the soure, & shew'st the sweet ossins.
But if he will not yeeld, unto thy will;
Thou tri'est thy power, his soul with wrath to fil
For those that in their weaknes made their boast
Twas when that sin, was by Gods power crost.
Which did through weaknes, overcome thy strength,
And over sathā, did triumph at lēgth.
What good doth come by sin, sin nought intends,
'Tis Gods event; sin seekes for cursed ends.
One trouble still, thou bring'st upon an other.
If one be gone thou bring'st in many other.
If any rest comes from Gods blessed hand,
Then thou in malice, dost against it stand.
Whē God in mercy, doth forgive mās sin,
With doubts, cares, feares, thou fill'st his heart within.
Although Gods grace, be thus exalted high,
To save poore soules that under sin did lye.


This and all good, is farre from thy intent,
Gods goodnesse, that brings forth such event.

His owne experience agravates Sinne, His witnesses make the case worse.

By proofe of all the Saints, that live on earth,
VVho knowes thy fruits, the'ir al untimely birth.
And I my selfe, by thee was led away,
Me toundoe, thou sought thus every way
I did blaspheme, when thou did'st promise gaines,
Then thou did'st bring, despaire for my paines.
Thou hast confest before the Iudge below,
Thy wickednesse as doth the Lord well know.
Thou didst despite me with a shamelesse face,
And us'd all meanes, to bring me to disgrace.
I did my suit remove, from common Law,
Where thou didst think, to keep me still in awe.
In equitie, here I shall finde releefe,
And ease my mind, and quite expell my greefe.
And for thy cause most vile it doth appeare,
To all that heare, or see, tis very cleare.
And those that stand as witnesses for thee,
Now they themselves, as bad appeare to be.
They did intend to adorne, thy ugly stature,
But have thee bad, made of a viler nature.


He refuseth to answer their bsurdities, but threatens Ignorance.

To answer them, it is not worth the while,
Alas poore fooles, sinne doth them all beguile.
Old ignorance. With his corrupted sence,
Though old he be, he'l finde sins recompence:
Though twice as long he live, yet curses store
For him, and such, do still waite at the dore.

He threatens Covetousnesse.

And he that covets wealth, and layes up gold,
Through sin, will finde, at last himselfe he sold;
His golden Gods, cannot him save from danger,
Nor comfort him; God is to him a stranger:
His sinfull gaines, will prove to him but losses,
And trouble, when sin brings a thousand rosses:

Hee curseth Lust, and shewes ruine.

And he that is addicted so to lust,
O cursed wretch, he thinkes it all but just,
He'l finde ere long, his bodily estate,
His soule undone, he l then repent too late:


When he shall in that burning bed be cast,
The sweet of sinne, turnes sower at the last.

He damneth Pride to Hell.

So Pride, that goes about to set Sinne free,
Himselfe he brings, in the like miserie:
He must be stript, and naked shall appeare,
Before the Judge, that all may see and feare,
Though set on high, yet he below must dwell,
And so with Sinne possession take of hell.

He craves leave for his witnesses to speake.

So I have done, but foure I have brought,
Those ever still, t'whom sinne has ruine sought,
So that the blessed, and the damned crue,
Speake to sins face, and say, this is all true.
Let not sinne say, 'twas I that did undoe him,
And make men think, but one, the rest stuck to him.

Lave is granted.

Speake all they shall, and knowledge shall begin,
He'l kill his heart; then bounty shall step in,


Then Chastitie, Humilitie behinde;
When they have spoke, they straight shall comfort finde.
My Saints and Angels too, shall all declare,
Sins shame on earth, though they in heaven are,
The damned shall relate a dreadfull story,
Speake truth of sinne, and so set forth my glory.

Knowledge first speakes.

Lord, sinne did strive, in Ignorance to keepe,
Making secure: in folly me to sleepe.
But when I once found out his hellish art,
I, to be freed from sinne, gave thee my heart:
I sought to know thy will, and so to doe it,
Still thought of time, when I should be put to it:
I did observe sinne with his cursed charmes,
Brought some to one, and some to other harmes,
According as he saw mens natures bend,
Suting temtptations to his cursed end,
And as he findes his swellings to arise,
There he doth blow those sparkes, we may surmise.
He'l let men know, all things, but what they should
All outward things, which best doe fit their mould.
If he can call, another, foole, or Asse,
He thinkes his wisedome's very well to passe:
If he know how to breake an idle jest,
Of witty fellowes, he counts himselfe the best.


If he suppose he knoweth affaires of state,
He sets his knowledge at too great a rate;
If he have been but once in forraigne parts,
He will so talk, as though he had all the arts.
Now all this while, he does not once indeavour,
To know the Lord, his wayes, which are for ever.
Himselfe to know, he doth not once desire,
He's so bewitcht, and setled in the mire.
If he intends but good, and God to know,
Then sinne doth seeke that good to overthrow.
But if he cannot drive, those thoughts away,
He puts him off, still, till another day.
From day, to day, but never comes that morrow,
At last by sinne, he's brought to endlesse sorrow.
If one be brought, refraining outward evill,
He thinkes ('tis well) he doth detest the divell:
If one doth good, that good, then save him must,
Heaven he must have, or else God is not just.
If in these things he doth himselfe deny,
Yet he will threaten judgement suddainly.
Man knowes not how, to answer such objections,
Sin hath by-wayes, and men take his directions
Now Lord, let him no more a being have,
Give saving knowledge, then our soules Lord save.


Liberalitie the second.

Sinne strives to make men covetous and base,
Keepe what I have, I should in any case.
Perswades me still, that I my selfe may want,
And if I should, friends would be very scant,
So I must not, diminish of my store,
What though men want, I did not make thē poore.
Sin would be master, of that men call mine,
I should keepe up all that, that's truly thine,
If I doe give, it must be sparingly,
Sinne saith, 'tis best, to keepe it till I die:
But if I doe a bounteous heart expresse,
He'l make me thinke, I maintaine idlenesse:
And must repent of all the good that's done,
And breake the thread, so soone as it is spun:
Or else take warning, not to give to any,
And slight the cries of poore, though ne're so many.
When I deny the poore, that doe complaine,
Then I must thinke what's sav'd, is all cleere gaine.
Thus labours sinne, to make me like a slave,
And live in bondage, unto what I have.

Chastitie the third.

Sinne with his trickes, doth me so much allure,
And with his snares, my hurt doth so procure.


With idle objects, and such painted sights,
I feare some ill, which puts my soule to frights,
Lest that I should be taken with those baites,
Which for my life are laid; sinne ever waites,
To bring me in by this, his strong temptation,
He might at last bring me to condemnation
He hides the sting, but that which seemes delight,
He sets it out, and backes it with his might:
So by degrees, a little makes no matter,
But then to more, thus he doth use to flarter:
If this take not, then raises stormes within,
Of lusts wild-fire, distemper all through sinne.
He telles me, those that were in Gods account,
Most holy men, and others did surmount,
Yet they in this sinne lived many a yeare,
If well with them it went, what need'st thou feare?
Goe, take thy pleasure, at worst thou maist repent,
Fulfill thy lust; tush, thou wilt nere be shent.
If filthy lust take thus, the guilt it brings,
Goes not alone, but with it other things.
I observe those, that he doth conquer when,
They'r so insnar'd doe never turne agen.
Now save us Lord, from all those cursed wayes,
And cut off sinne, we'll serve thee all our dayes.


Humilitie the fourth.

Sinne with his breath, would puffe me up so full,
Of great conceits, who foolish am and dull,
That what I doe, the best I doe exceed,
Such thoughts in me sinne labours still to breed:
Of what I doe, I lose the comfort still,
For sinne doth trie my heart with pride to fill;
And then I must my betters still contemne,
All of all sorts, I proudly must condemne.
Though I doe ill, and all men know the same,
I must deny't, as quit from any blame,
And if I am to any man a debter,
Tush let him waite, for am not I his better.
Nay sinne would make me set my selfe most out,
When cursed pride, my folly spreads about:
If men do not give me the cap and knee,
I scorne them must, as enemies to me.
Will they not bend to such a man as I,
I'de make them know, their carriage I defie.
If I doe good (it's seldome and not much)
A worthy worke, sinne telles me, of all such,
If one good thought comes in, or word goes forth,
Sinne saith, it is esteem'd of wondrous worth:
Of all that's ill, account God doth not take,
But takes all well, even for my persons sake:


My trouble's much, but much I cannot speake,
Poore am I (Lord) help, else my heart will breake,
VVhat good I doe, or have, Lord 'tis thine owne,
The ill is mine: let sinne be overthrowne.
Then shall thy praises be exalted high,
By humble men, that doe on thee relie.

The Lord commands the Saints in heaven to speake what they found of sinne.

Now have these mortals each one spoke his mind,
So let immortall spirits speake in their kinde:
As they have found and knowne let them bring in
Their testimonie, so 'ile judge of sinne.
And as he did my creatures still betray,
So from my wrath, he shall receive his pay
For what is done: so Justice by my hand,
He shall receive; 'twill bring ioy to the land.

A speech of the Saints in Heaven, against sinne.

We dwelt on earth, but now in heaven are,
To serve the Lord, it was our daily care,
'Mongst many troubles sinne was still the cheefe,
And by his factors did procure our greefe.
Both day and night he waited still to catch,
To trap our soules, he evermore did watch:


He'd speake in men, they bold, would not deny it,
And so by sinne, our lives were made unquiet.
And we through weaknesse, many times did yeeld,
Then sinne did triumph, when he got the field.
Then did he blaze our faults, throughout the nation,
And striv'd to bring us all to desperation.
The strong offended, th' weak made weaker were,
The bad grew worse, and at our falls did jeere,
But when by thee we got our former strength,
Against all sinne we did resolve at length.
Then sinne did strive to force us to his bent,
Against all conscience seeming good intent.
Propounding laws, which claimes it as a due,
To have us yeeld to that which was untrue,
But when we would not gree unto their charmes.
We were betraid, and brought to deadly harmes.
Some were adjudg'd in prison to be cast
And were brought out and burned at the last;
Some of us starv'd, some cut in peeces small,
Some rackt to death, which death was worst of all:
So many torments ages can record,
That sinne did bring, because we kept thy word,
So sinfull men, with mischiefes set us round,
Till they had laid us underneath the ground.
But thou (O Lord) when ended were our dayes,
Brought'st us above, where now we sing thy praise.


The man presseth God by Argument, to destroy sinne.

And now thy Saints that live upon the earth,
They doe despise, sinne makes it still his mirth,
Though they be pillars of the time and place,
Uphold the world, still for mans living race:
Take them away, the world would soone be fir'd,
Sinne with his imps against the just are hir'd:
Lord cut off sinne, for now his cause is tri'd,
And free thy Saints which on the earth abide.

The Angels reply against sinne.

Although we were not made like earthly creatures,
But more Divine, and of celestiall natures;
Sinne was so bold, with Angels he attempted,
Against the Lord: sinne was not there exempted,
Then Legions did such treason there conspire,
Sinne was ador'd, the Angels had their hire.
Sinne was the cause, that they were cast to hell,
Sinne made escape, and still on earth doth dwell.
Why should not he, which was the cause of evill,
Partake with wrath, and torment with the devill?
Sinne did the Angels blessed state prevent,
So let him now share in the punishment,


Lord thou dost keepe us by thy blessed power,
Else we should fall by sinne within an houre;
We now attend and looke to thine elect,
We know that sinne doth daily them infect,
Drawing from them the comforts of thy grace,
So bringing them into a dreadfull case.
Sinne doth deface thy image in the minde,
An other stampe when we returne we finde,
So sinne doth quell the motions of thy spirit,
Yet by their works, sinne tels them they shal merit,
Sin doth destroy the worke of thy creation,
Doe thou destroy sin, for mans preservation.

The Damned are called to witnesse against sinne.

Come now yee fiends of darknesse, shew and tell,
What yee on earth did, what ye finde in hell:
You cursed furies, and you damned spirits,
That wrought for sin, and now you have your merits:
Ye horrid factors ever were for sinne,
Survey your gaines, returne, and bring it in.
You liv'd in sin, and with sin did converse,
Your living death will helpe you to rehearse.
You were his friends, doth friendship still remain?
If all be lost, where is your sinfull gaine?
Speake now you hell-hounds of this dreadfull story,
Sinne will be silent ever to my glory.


First, how they were deceived by sinne, and compares sinne to contemptible things, and how he failes of his promise.

Sinne did bewitch us with his cursed smiles,
And by deceipt he trapt us with his wiles:
He hid the light, darknesse before our eyes,
Was set: and still the truth we did despise.
Like Batts and Owles that hate the lightsome day,
And as the theef loves darknesse for his prey;
Such is the sinner, having cursed ends,
Against whoever any good intends.
We hated all, and never had regard,
To man nor cause, unlesse 'twere for reward:
VVe were like bruits, save onely we could talke,
VVe liv'd by sense, and did most vilely walke:
O cursed viper, who can set thee out?
Great part of hell thou art, there is no doubt,
Thou limbe of Sathan, none can match thy evill,
God made thee not, but thou didst make the devill.
Thou ugly serpent monster of the earth,
Thou bring'st forth daily thy unshapen birth,
Thou scum of vermin, thou art worst of any,
And if there were ten thousand times as many:
The Plagues of Egypt cannot equall thee,
Nor all that have been, are, or ere shall be,


The Serpent hath his place where he abides
The lesser vermine on the earth so glides,
They seek not me they sting but once for all,
The body not the soule they cause to fall.
Thou in all places hast thy subtill snares,
To bring all men to everlasting cares.
The more thou sting'st the more thou dost delight,
Both soule and body thou seek'st to stroy quite.
Sinne didst not thou like fooles lull us asleep?
And darkensse bring when light did once but peepe
All seedes of evill in us thou didst sowe.
All seeds of good thou still did'st overthrowe.
Our thoughts of God, our souls, our death, our change
Our sins, heaven, hell, all these were very strange,
We had our fills of fin we made our boast
And they that in their sins exceeded most
Were most belov'd with us of all the rest
The worst of men, wee counted still the best
Though knowledge we did want to purchase fame
Wee'd sweare and lie and thereby raise a name
If good we knew we never did intend
To do that good or if bad strive to mend.
Sinne promi'sst us to free us still from strife
And give us good the daies of all our life.
And at the end we need not feare but we
Should dwell in heaven, to all eternitie.
Some n'ere were raised from the sleepe of sinne,
Till they in hell close prisoners were within.


But some on earth began their hell before,
The first of that, of which they now have more.
This we can say, and more, if need require,
Now one alone, relate sins fearfull hire,
And how we are, and in what wofull place,
Our company, and endlesse, easelesse case.

Some of them in a dreadfull manner relate the torments of hell, and cries out for vengeance upon sinne, and departed.

O heavens heare, and earth, what sin hath brought,
Upon all us, that sold our selves for nought:
We are through sin accursed from the Lord,
Of men and Angels we are all abhorr'd,
I want a tongue to shew this wrathfull rage,
And fury to remaine times after age.
The blacknesse and the darknesse is so great,
Light there is none, but still abides the heate,
Of fire and brimstone, burning in the flame,
The dregs of sinne is mingled with the fame.
We live yet die, and dying still remaine:
Our soules with horrour, bodies fill'd with paine.
How dreadfull 'tis, and in what grievous sort,
Laid on all parts and persons, ile report,
We drinke our teares, and sorrow is our food,
Curses our portions, we see nor heare of good


The fearfull cries and howlings that below,
We heard, these all the damned soules do know,
The ghastly lookes, and lamentable grones,
The great complaints, with heavie griefe & mones,
Sin there attends and acteth still his part,
Blows up the fire, there worms still gnaw the heart:
The dungeon is exceeding large and deepe,
Where ugly vermine evermore doe creepe.
The devils doe attend us every houre,
And bring fresh torment by their cursed power.
No dram of comfort ever doth come neare it,
This heavie doome we hellish Imps must beare it.
We have no friendship, none to shew us favour,
And all are fierce, and of a rude behaviour,
No ease at all at any time we finde,
Our bodies burne, and anguish burnes the minde.
Diseases all, strangullion, stone, or gout,
The least part of our torment set not out.
But one thing more, and that is worst of all,
Our paines to all Eternity stay shall.
When dayes, and yeares, and ages, are all past,
Our plagues remaine, our torments still do last.
No comfort, friends, no ease, nor end will be
Found, now I sinke under my miserie.
Thou curse of curses, thou the cause of it,
That I and all, that in the infernall pit,
Must stay: yet thou art never a whit asham'd,
Of all thy vilenesse that hath now been nam'd,


Let all that live for ever still disdaine
Thy name: and cursed let it so remaine,
O Damne him, damne him, to a horrid cell
Not here with us, but in another hell.
For if with us, our sinnings wil not cease,
And him to see our torments will increase.
Ah worse, yet is the friend if worse may be,
I must away, the Divells come for mee.

The Charge to the Iury.

The case is cleare ther's none that can deny it,
That sins the cause of all our great disquiet.
The heavenly host with men on earth concluded,
The damned too all were by sinne deluded.
These things and more (I do aberre) be true,
And so the case doth now appeare to you.
Now as you finde so give your verdict in,
Accordingly, Il'e sentence give on sin.

The Introduction to the verdict.

Against thy person sin was ever bent,
And all thy workes to spoyle was his intent,


Thy sonne from heaven downe to earth did goe,
But sinne to him did prove a deadly foe,
And did oppose the worke of his redemption,
Which sinfull men should give from sins exemptiō.
But when in this he could not have his will.
His bloud he shed, the worth remaineth still.
He watcht with death, to keepe him in the grave,
Of what was done, men might not comfort have.
But all in vaine, 'twas sinfull labour lost,
Man was redeem'd, and comfort had; sinne crost.
Against the Spirits blessed worke in hand,
He sets himselfe, and goodnesse doth withstand:
And from all men, all comfort he would take,
And in mans heart an Idoll God he'd make,
'Tis time, tis time, to take with sinne a course,
With men 'tis ill, in time it would be worse.

The verdict of the Iurie, against Sinne and his witnesses.

We have concluded in our consultation,
And finde sinne guilty, by the information,
For his defence to be most rude and vaine,
His witnesses as bad, appeareth plaine,
They guilty are, as parties in the cause,
They broken have, nay they condemne thy lawes.
The reply proves, and their examination,
We finde them worthy of a deepe damnation.


The Preface to the sentence.

Now sinne thou art convicted, all may see,
The Jury to thy judgement doth agree;
Thy wickednesse is open laid to view,
To all the world: which say that hell's thy due,
And those foure men which for thy cause did stand,
The cursed'st worke that ere they tooke in hand,
For love of thee themselves have now undone,
They plaid for sweet, they have the sower wonne.

The Sentence against Sinne.

I sentence Sinne for ever to be cast,
In lowest hell; where furious flames doe last,
In dungeon darke where fire is divided.
The light from heate, there thou shalt be derided.
All torment that the devils can invent,
With all their store of curses shall be spent,
On thee: from thence thou never shalt returne,
In flaming wrath thou evermore shalt burne,
To all delights now thou shalt bid farewell,
Away, begon into the pit of hell,


The sentence against Sinnes assistants.

And you that for sinne acted such a part,
And 'gainst my truth have tried all your art,
Receive your doome, for this will be your hire,
Ye cursed goe into eternall fire,
Where divels dwell, and monsters doe inherit,
The fruits of sinne; there each one hath his merit,
There you shall stay for ever, and from me,
No light of comfort you shall ever see.
In sorrow you eternitie shall spend,
Depart from me, for now you know your end.
FINIS.


CONCERNING DEATH.

AN INDIGHTMENT Against Death, by Life; being Plaintiffe.

With the Event and Issue thereof.



Death where is thy sting? 1 Cor. 15. 56.

O Death, I will be thy death. Hosea 13. 14.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed, is Death. 1 Cor. 15. 26.

The Argument in charge to the Muse.

Addresse thy selfe (my Muse) to that sad tale,
Of Death, though grim, & ghastly, wan & pale.
His looke, feare not, for I will see thee righted,
Speake bold for life, thou need'st not be affrighted:
Accuse him, answer with a sharp reply,
His vaine defence, and sentenc'd let him dye.

A Plea against Death.

Lord now I have brought Death to be arraign'd,
A Traitor he already is proclaim'd
To be against thy sonne: the life of all,
The world that hath been, are, or ever shall,
Remaine on earth: unlesse some course in hand,
Be taken now to cut him from the Land,
O let me never beare thy name in vaine,
To yeeld to Death; my losse he counts his gaine,
Now let this tyrant be by thee destroy'd,
That hath so long so much my peace annoy'd.


An examination of the case, a command to speake their mindes.

What wouldst thou have done to him, speak thy mind?
What he hath done that's il, that he shal find.
To him I shall returne againe like measure,
As he did mete, ile open now my treasure
Of wrath and vengeance, and upon him poure,
And he shall know what 'tis life to devoure.
Ile heare you both, now life speake what of Death
Thou know'st; & death why he stroys living breath.
And testimony that about the cause,
You can produce according to my lawes.
For so ile Judge, and give to each his right,
My truth appeare shall in all peoples sight.

The Indightment against Death in generall.

When thou at first didst breath me in (the soule
Of man) alive he was, who did controule,
His living state, but death, when he for ever,
Might then have liv'd, with doing his indeavour.
But (fearfull) Death did stare him in the face,
And did his glory, utterly disgrace
His name was fearfull, and men at it bend,
The thoughts of Death brought forth untimely end
To some; the rest that liv'd the course of nature,
The feare of him did weaken so their stature,
That when he came, he had not much to doe,
Halfe dead before, for they were sinfull too,
And captives like, he chain'd them in the grave,
Close prisoners: none out of his hands could save,


A man so cruell as it doth appeare,
Men durst not aske, he kept them so in feare,
He scorn'd to take a courtesie from any,
Nor did regard their teares, though nere so many.
The old mans plaint he never did regard:
The strong mans valour, with death did reward.
The young mans person never did respect,
The infants smiling ever did neglect.
The virgins beauty he did still defie,
The fathers griefe he slighteth presently:
The mothers weeping he did still disable,
Although she mist her children at the table:
The childe though kneeling, begs life for his father.
Then death in fury, saith he'l have him rather,
The loving daughter seekes life for her mother,
But death lookes in, and cries, give me another.
The masters cares considers not a whit,
The servants paines with death, so payes he it.
The Bridegroomes joy he turneth into sorrow,
The Brides delight, to day, he spoyles to morrow.
Or any one that sueth for his friend,
If he grieves much, death brings the sooner end,
On him; but helpes him not a jot, but brings,
On all men death: and kils all other things.
Thy servants Lord, that were by me maintain'd,
In all the world, yet death hath all them gain'd:
And while they had a being here on earth,
They trouble had: but seldome knew what mirth


Did meane: yea some of them that I am sure,
Through feare of death, a bondage did endure.
At home, abroad, or ever where they went,
They still did thinke, his bow was ever bent:
No comfort in the world then did they take,
Of any thing that God did for them make.
I was to them aburthen, yet they call,
For joy: but then the King of feare spoyl'd all,
And fresh discōfort brought into their harts,
Frighting their mindes; death breeds such inward smarts
The thoughts of death bring out the guilt of sin,
Annoye without, distemper all within,
And to this day, it is his practice still,
With darts of death the bloud of all to spill.
Where as he findes me, he doth hate me so,
His venome spits; and is a cruell foe,
The birds, the beasts, the fish, all that have sense,
A suit of death against him doth commence,
And he by might doth ever get the day,
And as his right he takes them all away,
The plants that live a bare life and no more,
Scarce men can see life in them, 'tis so poore,
Death findes it out, as plainly doth appeare,
And kils their fruit, some once, some twice a yeare:
At last the stock to death must give a place,
For fruit and stocke death doth at last disgrace.
Nay, if there were of persons, or of things,
A world of millions more, he'd use his stings.


Till all were gone, if thou didst not restraine,
His power; then still like a King he'd raigne,
The more he slayes the more he doth desire,
The lower men are, he is rais'd the higher.
He hath confest the ruine of mans life,
Is that he seekes: he gaines, they lose, so strife,
Hath been betwixt us, ever since the first,
I doe perceive; he for mans bloud doth thirst,
Till he himselfe doe die, he'l never cease,
To kill: his name's enough to stroy mans peace.

Against Death in particular.

What have I done, that death should envie me?
Was I not made, to quicken men by thee?
Why then should death a greater power have,
I being free, to make me like a slave?
If I doe ill, correct me with thy hand,
But why should Death have me at his command?
Death had his being at the first by sinne,
And as a vassall to him still hath been.
Sinne goes before, then Death he takes his place,
They both conspire against mans living race,
For they agree in all that suits with evill,
And with consent doe gratifie the Devill,
For his device, and subtill slights that he,
Did still invent, brought all to miserie.


Should Death, that by thee never being had,
And workes for sinne (O this is too too bad)
Rule over all, that goodly worke of thine?
To spoile it too, his malice doth incline.
Shall Sathans worke stand up, thine overthrowne?
Stretch forth thy hād Lord, make thy power known
And from thy Justice, let Death have his due,
The world is witnesse what I speake is true.

A sharpe reproofe of Death, he hath leave to answer for himselfe.

What canst thou say, seeing this is proved so?
To all my workes thou shew'st thy selfe a foe.
What canst expect, but hell for thy reward,
Seeing thou to none, hadst never yet regard,
If I did not thy malice now restraine,
The life of all that in the world remaine,
Thou quickly would'st lay levell with the dust,
Though they resist: yet fall through thee they must.
And in the grave thou wouldest beare such sway,
And wish there were a thousand worlds to slay
More; thou would'st all them of their lives bereave,
Speake Death thy minde, I freely give thee leave.


Deaths defence for himselfe.

When God at first, did give to all things being,
And life; a will he gave to man agreeing,
Who was appointed to keepe all in awe,
Nor lawlesse was he, God gave him a law,
If he it brake, I was his sentence for it,
If not, he lived: but he did abhorre it.
To be so ty'd, he broke thy Law that day,
Then for reward I was from thee his pay:
I execute what Justice doth decree,
I doe thy worke, for I am rul'd by thee
For by thy word all life must vanish quite,
From all the world: then should not I by right
Take place? what is there on the earth beside,
But life and death, which doth the world divide.
Should I deny, when thou dost bid me goe?
Should I resist, when thou dost presse me so?
To doe thy worke, I ever did my best,
Till it be done, I never take my rest.
Should I be bashfull, for to goe among,
The faire, or fearfull, to salute the strong,
Or passe the rich, or take of great a fee,
Or favour honour, where I doe it see?
O no, nor any else that thou dost send
Me, For I bring them all unto their end,


I in thy hand am still as at this day,
By thy consent I doe still life destroy.
A King I'm made by thee, as doth appeare,
And by thy power all creatures do me feare.
I doe subdue thy foes, and make them bow,
And dart them down, to scape they know not how.
When I to men come armed with thy wrath,
They sinke downe quite, not one the power hath
Me to withstand; then life bids them farewell,
But dying life, meets them againe in hell.
But of thy Saints, I have been much desir'd,
They'd have me come, though they with much were hir'd
To stay below, and not to see thy face,
Where thou dost dwell, their soules being full of grace.
Thou also hast appointed them a rest,
What way is that, which thou didst think the best,
To bring them home, to live in heaven still?
But that I should their mortall life first kill,
And that by me, a passage they must have,
They die but once, then life they still doe save,
I can doe nothing, but upon the earth,
Nor sway my scepter but with mortall birth.
Yet here I am but for a time to slay,
Though once I thought, I should have raign'd for ay
Why should then life torment me in this sort,
In raising on me such an ill report.
In calling me to answer at thy barre,
Life seeks my ruine, he proceeds so farre,


Himselfe is worse, being guilty of such crimes,
Corrupting man, and poysoning still the times;
I doe revenge the evill, 'tis thy cause,
He still doth breake, I ever keepe thy lawes.
I doe him good, me ill he doth requite,
Men live by me, yet he owes me a spite.
Now let these speake what they can say for me,
I make no doubt but then I shall be free.

Deaths assistants have leave to pleade for him.

Thou shalt have Justice here before my face,
Each one shall speake: and then ile judge the case.
It is not shewes nor glosses that will stand,
Instead at all to free thee from my hand,
But 'tis the truth, by truth thou must be tri'd,
For that is best all cases to decide.

The Magistrates Plea for death.

Thou hast me in a place of Justice set,
I judge a case that life must pay a Debt,
How may this be, if Death were not my friend,
To take my part, and bring life to an end?
Death doth his office, I will beare him out,
Lives ruine thus, when ere he bring'st about,


Take him away? alas what can I doe?
My servant take? then take the Master too.
No peace nor quiet once would dwell with men,
Not best, but worst, would take all sweetnes then.
The Felons here, by death receive their due,
Men live in feare, and say that law is true.

The Heire craves deaths freedome.

What doth't availe, that I am borne to lands,
And if that all should freed be from death's hand's?
All hopes were vaine, and for my expectation,
It were cut off, no meanes of preservation,
Were left for me, worse than my yonger brother,
I cannot worke, and so can he, and other,
Old men must die, and young men take their places,
They must to dust, death puts life to such cases,
Old men are children, if they live but long,
They to themselves are burthens: for the young
Their spittings, coffings, froward dispositions,
So irksome are, and so hard my conditions,
We would be freed, for them the world is bad,
A better place, we all doe wish they had.
Death us'd to doe as great a thing as this,
O prethee come, and doe it, doe not misse.
I am in trouble, troubles greeve my heart,
Thou wilt be quit, for many take thy part.


Thou at our neighbours, wast the other day,
I lookt for thee, thou went'st another way,
Pray free him now, to doe one worke for me,
The old man take, no more desir'd shall be.

The Parish Clarke sueth to have Death freed.

Death I am sorry here to see thee stand,
'Twas for thy sake I tooke this place in hand,
'Tis little worth, if thou dost from us goe.
I tri'd my friends to get it, and my foe,
Remaines till now, because I got the place,
He did sue for't, and came off with disgrace.
Of burials we have hundreds in the yeare,
And for the rich, great vailes come in so cleare
It joyes my heart; the rest, some more, some lesse,
In their degree, their bounty doe expresse.
Besides my fee, they did still somewhat more,
So many littles do increase my store.
If Death go downe, Clarke I will be no longer,
Now I am old, and weake, yet like the stronger,
I must to worke; and try my feeble hands;
Or perish must, seeing I possesse no lands.
Death did me good that little that I have,
I got by him, when life was brought to grave.
O quit him, quit him, that I may injoy,
My profit still; my hopes doe not destroy.


The Sextons lamentation for Death.

When trading fail'd, I brought unto a strait,
For want of meanes, did for a place lay waite,
The Sexton dyed, the Parson stood my friend,
To helpe me in, such good he did intend
To me: the Parish with a full consent,
To him agreed, so to the place I went,
Death brought me in great part still of my gaines,
What else I had, I ever did take paines
For it: what I for ringing of the Bell,
Had then for rich, when 'twas their dying knell,
Or any other, I will not now relate it,
I scorne to brag, I ever yet did hate it.
Or all the Bels being rung, what ere I got,
'Twas so, and so, I ever had my lot.
With other things which now I will not name,
He did me helpe, let no one then me blame,
To take his part, alasse who can doe lesse,
Seeing he to me such friendship did expresse.
I cannot hold for to maintaine my charge,
If death be gone: the Parish is not large,
Enough for vailes, to keep me in such sort,
To pay my debts, live free from ill report.
The trading's lost, that little that I had,
Nor can I worke, being old, my sight is bad.


O free Death now; or if thou him destroy,
For company, take me with him away.

The Searchers complaine of their losses, and beg that Death may be quit.

We are old women, weake, and very poore,
We trade with Death, and so increase our store,
Death he is first, we second in the place,
To search the corps: of what, and in what case,
They died: we bring of them a true relation,
And groates a peece allow'd for preservation.
But sometimes more, as cloathes, or else some food,
That's mony worth, and is to us as good.
We past our labours are, 'tis knowne full well.
Allowance we have, ith' Parish where we dwell,
If death should faile, our place would faile us too,
We must goe beg, and make no more adoe.
Vnloose him now, for he hath been our friend,
Or let us goe with him to know our end.
Let Life decay, and Death take up his place,
Our life else is but Death, our wants deface
Vs: better we with death should lie in grave,
Than live on earth; we little comfort have.


Th Coffin-maker makes mone for the absence of death, and desires his libertie.

I ever have been brought up to a trade,
By death maintain'd, for Coffins I have made,
Apprentiship most hard I did indure,
I thought to live so well, and be so sure,
In constant trading; shall my expectation,
Thus die in hand, my meanes of preservation,
Faile me? what then will now become of me?
I perish must, or live in miserie.
No other way to live, but boxes small,
I make sometimes, to finde me worke withall;
I sell them cheape, not worth the while to make
For coffins still, good rates I ever take.
Men will not stand in this case for a friend,
When they shall buy; the price, and so an end
We make: and this will countervaile my paines,
And for this worke I have sufficient gaines.
What shall I doe, if death be kept through strife,
Away? 'twill make me weary of my life.
Let all men speake of death as they doe finde,
I liv'd by him, and 'tis against my minde,
To see him troubled; life did bring him hither,
Discharge him then, that we may trade together.


The Bearers speech for death, and laments their losse.

Our places are to beare the dead to grave,
With watchings, that is all the meanes we have,
To live: we tried our friends to helpe us in,
And ever since we constant in't have beene,
We were so poore we could not well tell how
For to subsist, the case is alter'd now,
We got so much by death within a yeare,
The better still we are, as doth appeare.
Now we have goods and money too at need,
We pay our rent, and of the best we feed:
We still have wine, and sometime other things,
We do rejoice, though some their hands stil wrings.
When we from home doe beare the dead away,
To their long home, they in their grave must stay,
Our constant gaines to all is knowne, so well,
We need not speake; the rest we will not tell.
What ere it be we would not willingly,
Now lose our gaines, nor change it till we die.
'Tis nothing worth if death should lie in hold,
Alas we might our sorrowes then unfolde,
We were undone, and perish all we must,
Release him now, thou wilt doe, so, we trust.


The Grave-makers lamentation missing Death.

I am a man, I need not here be nam'd,
Though I can dig, to begge I am asham'd,
I make the graves to bury dead folkes in,
I am imploy'd, for idlenesse is sinne.
I have no meanes, but what I labour for,
I'th sicknesse time, though men doe me abhorre,
My trading's best, when other trades decay,
I make of graves some five, or sixe a day,
I labour hard, and all men finde me willing,
Some give me sixe pence, and some give a shilling,
If in the Church, some two, or three, some more,
Thus I'm maintain'd, and lay up mony store,
Though times more healthful were, yet work I had,
I'm crasie brain'd, yet this wil make me mad.
If death be tooke away: my trading then,
Will faile me quite, and never come agen,
For other worke, I am a stranger to it,
To watch at night, alas that will not doe it,
To maintaine me, my wife, and children small,
It's but a groate, so want will starve us all,
Death holpe me still; O free him, else my grave,
Ile dig, then die, I there no want shall have.


The Grave wants Death, and begges him to come to bring meate to the wormes and him.

Death, what's the matter thou art now indighted?
The newes I heare, hath me full sore affrighted?
My hungry belly thou wast wont to fill,
With flesh: I sweetly did digest it still
My mouth is wide, my stomack hot like fire,
The more I eate, the more I doe desire:
My bowels large, my sides and limbes are strong,
Give, give me food I shall continue long,
I thought some evill had oretaken thee,
Thou brought'st not meat, as thou wert wont to me
Thou for me wast, I for thee in like case,
Thou me releev'dst, I found thy dead a place.
We are all friends, and if we now should part,
The thoughts of this would almost kill my heart,
But life that doth accuse thee in this sort,
He envies thee, and rais'd an ill report
On me likewise, and pickes a quarrell too,
Again all such, with whom he hath to doe.
Be not dismaid, I hope thou shalt againe,
Come dwell with me, and rule amongst the slaine;
The wormes my tenants, they doe misse thee now.
They seek for meat to help them, who knows how


But thee? O come and bring us flesh they cry,
Or else we'l come and follow thee and die,
I give them houses, if thou canst not give,
Meat to them then, long here they cannot live,
They are so silly and so feeble they,
Now cannot goe, nay scarce can creepe away.
They call to me for food and I have none,
My flesh is eat, and nothing but the bone,
Is left, when I had any they did feed,
With me, it was a charitable deed;
But now alas, I hungry am, and poore,
What's done is done, now I can doe no more,
Death come away, why should'st thou not be free,
The wormes and I will ever honour thee.

Death and his friends are checkt, Life is urged to speake to the purpose.

Death, thou, thy friends also have spoke their mind,
Thou think'st thy cause is good, but thou shalt find
Vaine thy defence; with thy corrupted crue,
Living by sense, they nothing speake that's true,
They doe not care, so they have private gaine,
Come in by thee: though all the world be slaine.
They helpe thee not, thy cause the worse made,
They parties are, and with thee drive a trade.


As for thy selfe when life doth make reply,
Thy shew of truth he'l prove is but a lye.
Life to the life of death, the dreadfull story,
Speak now, declare, the truth, shew forth my glory.

The Reply of Life to all the particulars against deaths defence.

When God did make man blessed in his kinde,
And all things else according to his minde,
When man did breake the Law of God by sinne,
Thou as his curse did'st presently step in,
God bid thee ('tis true) but thou run'st fast,
For to destroy his worke, thou didst make haste.
But to obey Gods will or his decree,
Was never yet intended so by thee.
For Truth or Justice, thou car'st not a whit,
And yet thou sayest thou hast a right to it.
Dost thou divide the world, is it thy due?
Or any part, 'twere so if lyes were true,
Thou willing art to ruine me, and still,
Thou seek'st about my living bloud to spill,
Thou dost thy worst to keepe me still from rest,
The worst of workes thou callest still the best.
Thou shamelesse art, and impudent to all,
Thou throw'st thy darts, at rich, faire, great & small.
Thou bidden art, but yet without commission,
Thou would'st destroy me, crying for permission.


Whether good, or bad, it's all one still to thee,
Thou car'st for none for his integrity.
If in Gods hand thou art, why dost thou now,
Thus vexe and fret, and wilt not me allow,
A being: but dost labour to destroy,
Me still: my glory thou would'st take away.
A tyrant if a King thou art; 'tis so,
To all thy subjects first or last a foe,
Thou shew'st thy selfe most curst, so vile thou art,
Some may in feare, in love none takes thy part.
Thou dost usurp, God made thee not a King,
A name that's forg'd, through feare thou hast the thing
Put on thee: God with wrath doth arme thee then
'Tis for his foes; but to all other men,
He mercy shewes; but thou no pitty hast,
And friends or foes, thou still dost lay them waste.
What good by thee doth come to any one,
'Twas by Gods hand, for thou intendest none;
The Saints that did so much desire thee,
'Twas first because from sinne they would be free;
And for to see the Lord, and with him dwell,
To speake his praises, and his goodnesse tell.
Not for thy sake, thy pale and dreadfull face,
Frights, all by nature run from thee apace.
Can God (dost thinke) finde no way else to bring,
His Saints to blisse? but thou must use thy sting,
To bring them down, some are in heaven blest,
That nere knew thee, and so might all the rest,


If God did please; thou mak'st as if beholding
God were to thee (in thy defence unfolding)
For spoyling mee: that life by thee they gaine,
Is not thy minde, that life too, thou would'st staine,
If thou hadst power, (but 'tis above thy reach)
Thou didst on earth such fearfull lectures preach:
'Tis well thou hast but there a time to tarry,
'Tis true, though once in this thy minde did varie.
No ill report I ever made on thee,
And this the Judge, and all the world shall see.
Though I am guilty, if the Lord forgive,
My sinne; what's that to thee? I still shall live.
What ill I doe, is done through sins temptation,
Thou bring'st the guilt, which threatens condemnation.
Thou ruin'st time, and ages to decay,
Thou also bring'st; by takiag me away.
Is't out of love to God, that thou dost so,
Revenge the ils? no, no thou art a foe
To all that live, it is not for Gods sake,
It's still in wrath that thou dost vengeance take.
Thou dost accuse me of the breach ofright,
That so my darknesse, may make thine seeme light.
Thy selfe thou praisest that thou dost Gods will,
And keep'st his lawes, though thou dost break them still
Thou lying serpent; thou doe good to me,
When, where was it? can good of evill be?
I will requite thee if thou good hast showne,
To me: thy ill to all the world is knowne.


Can Life by Death a being here retaine?
When losse of life, thou countest for thy gaine.
'Tis true I hate thee, how can I doe lesse?
Thou dost on me thy malice still expresse.

An aggravation and disproportion, betwixt death and the cruellest creatures, and how he hath nothing that is praise-worthy belongs to him.

What shall I say thou cursed viper now?
Set out thee or thy hatred, who knowes how?
A cockatrice thou art, of poyson'd Aspe,
Thou step'st then in, when men for me do gaspe.
The Lion's meeke, when he's compar'd to thee,
The Dragon's tame, how wilde so ere he be,
The Leopards doe shew some respect to men,
The greedy Wolves doe prey but now and then.
The hungry foxes doe sleepe all the day,
And in the night they onely seeke their prey.
But thou art worse than all that here are nam'd,
Thou spoil'st all men, and never art asham'd.
Both day and night all times thou goest about,
And mak'st thy prey of all thou findest out.
The Panther when he doth destroy mans life,
Seemeth to grieve, but thou art still at strife
Wlth me: for murther thou dost not relent,
But if thou misse a blow, thou dost repent.


Beasts may be seene, and so may be prevented,
If not, with one alone they'l be contented.
Thou like a Thiefe dost come, men not aware,
All thou must have, for one thou dost not care.
Thy shape's unseen, I cannot paint thee out,
Not man, nor beast, nor fowle, nor vermine rout,
Can thee discover in thy native hue:
Or by proportion give to thee thy due.
If thou be strong, why doe men through disease,
Grow weake, before thou dost upon them seaze?
If thou be bold, why dost thou slily creepe,
And steal on men by night, when they should sleep?
If thou art valiant, why dost thou the brother,
Vse as thy meanes, to make him kill the other?
When armies rise against each other fight,
Though there thou art, thou play'st there least in sight.
If thou art noble, why doe hangmen still,
Attend on thee, to execute thy will?
Thou dost men starve is this a noble minde?
No favour shew'st thou art to all unkinde.
If thou art great, why dost not shew the same,
To shelter men of praise to get a name?
If thou art faire, come now let's see thy face?
Thy beauties markes may helpe thee in this case.
Especially, if beauty be within,
But thou art foule, and so hast ever beene.
If thou art wise, why dost thou ever use
To set thy selfe the wisest to abuse?


In this thy folly doth so much appeare,
To all the world 'tis evident and cleare.
If thou art just, why dost not rescve those,
That serve the Lord in striking downe their foes?
If thou hast mercy why dost slight the teares,
Of poore distrest? thou dost increase their feares.
If thou art rich, why dost not give a fee,
Both large and good for those that plead for thee?
But thou art poor thy halfe world's nothing worth,
So well as I can, I have set thee forth.

Deaths friends are reproved, their absurdities are not to be answered, but they are fitter for correction. Comparisons and advice.

Thy friends that have stood up for thy defence,
Will from thee finde a deadly recompence.
They trade with thee, but he that gets the gaines
Comes off with losse, his labour for his paines:
There's none that doth the common good desire
Of them: like fooles they dote upon their hire.
On present things they dote, but quickly they,
Will lose the sweet, when death takes them away.
The Magistrate Ile satisfie, but for
The restlike Atheists speake, I doe abhorre
To answer them, absurdities their words
Are: them they use as mad men doe use swords.


Who ever speaks they will not take direction,
Ile not dispute, they'r fitter for correction.
To side with death against the life of men.
That pretious is, for gaines they wish death then.
Should men like beasts by sense live alwayes here?
Hath God no wayes but what to sence appeare.
To feed and cloath his creatures which he made?
He helpe him can, though other helpes doe fade.
Must death of others, life unto men give?
Or no meanes else is in the world to live?
Is there no gaines, but must be others losses,
Or comfort have, unlesse death bring his crosses?
Is this to do by others as to have
The same repay'd to thee? or would'st thou crave
Death for thy selfe, or shamefully to die,
Others to free, that doe in bondage lie?
Anothers case in this make still thine owne,
Thou fain would'st live, should others be o'rthrown
Be not so brutish in thy curst desire,
Me thinks it smels of brimstone and hell fire.
Plead not for death, he will not plead for you;
His friendship's false, his enmity is true.

The Magistrates speech is answered.

The Magistrate that pleads for death so witty,
That he should fall, he thinkes it is great pitty:


There's other wayes, for Justice to take place,
Sharpe punishment, and publikely disgrace.
Justice in rigor should not be exprest,
Injustice 'tis to all, but to the best
Shew clemency and mercy to all such
That are most rude, let pitty ever touch,
The heart, and then in love we shall agree,
When Death goes downe, O then I shall be free.
Death, none can quit, when he once takes away,
The lives of men, although they went astray,
Though death be gone, stil thou maist use thy strēgth
To chastise men, and make them good at length.
A servant now he is, but ere't be long,
He'l master be, and prove for thee too strong.
Vnlesse he be condemn'd, and silenc'd quite,
And by decree we take away his might;
Sinne's condemn'd, if it get not repreeve,
Death may be spar'd men may in quiet live.
Although before some have deserv'd to die,
I would not lose nor leave them willingly.
Though worst speed best & best the worst receive
Worst may be best if I doe not them leave.
Though theevs by death have here receiv'd reward
Yet by thy stripes men will as much regard,
The law of life: now if death be a friend,
Let others judge: for I have made an end.


The charge of the Jurie.

You heare of death; the case is open'd large,
Your verdict bring: for this I give in charge,
You speake the truth, and boldly as you finde,
Respect not parties, freely shew your minde.
Death is a foe to all the case is cleare,
The best that live, of him doe live in feare.
He is so grim that with his ghastly frowne,
He doth distract men, then he sinkes them downe.
Life seekes but justice, justice he shall have,
My subject he's, he shall not be deaths slave;
Life he is wrong'd, the truth of this is tri'd?
Doe you consult, the case ile soone decide.

The Preface to the verdict of the Jurie.

Lord this we finde to us is very cleare,
That Death to Life a foe is: with his feare
Doth men like slaves keepe under; with his force
Doth crush all things, and never hath remorse.
He prides himselfe ore all, he is so vile,
Next Sin, the worst, though you a King him stile
The truth of this all ages that are past,
Have found for they, by death were spoil'd at last.


O monstrous death, when men use cursed art,
To torture men, thou tak'st the tyrants part.
The information sets thy inside out,
But the reply, brings it more cleare about.
Thy words, thy friends doe no whit mend thy case
But by contraries: Justice now takes place.

The Verdict of the Jurie, against Death.

For Death, we finde him guilty of those crimes,
Of frighting men, and killing them all times,
And all things else; that little we can see,
(Take other things that prov'd so strongly be,
'Gainst him) why he should not deserve to die,
Cut from the earth, and times eternally.
Now doome him Lord, and free us from his snare,
And let him lie in ever dying care.

The Introduction to the Sentence.

Death now thou seest thou art convicted truly,
Thy deadly plots I have observed duly:
Against my creatures for so 's the story,
That chiefly made were, to set forth my glory.
When that my sonne tooke flesh and man became,
Thou didst not spare him: thou join'st wth him shame


And brought'st him downe: but then he from the earth,
Was rais'd againe, and had a second birth.

The sentence against Death.

I sentence thee to perish evermore;
With all thy malice set upon thy score:
A stronger death, shall swallow all thy power,
And shall thy Kingdome utterly devoure.
Now helpe nor refuge, none shall give to thee,
Eternall darknesse then thy part shall be,
Thou never shalt from thence returne againe,
To domineere or triumph ore the slaine.
Take wrath with thee, be fill'd with curses store
And so begon and see my face no more.

The Devill knowing that Sinne and Death are condemned, his power and malice appeares; but 'tis restrained.

Sathan which once did dwell within the Court,
Of heaven: thence was cast, yet doth resort,
Thither againe, to pry into Gods actions,
And what he doth against his cursed factions,
And what respect he shewes unto his owne,
That serve him still, and make his power knowne
The one we doth against the Lord uphold,
The other he to shame would bring, so bold


He is, that he doth claime a due and right,
To all the world; dispose it by his might.
He would: if God did not subdue his power;
All men he would by treason soone devoure.
And now he's vext that sin and death is cast,
By Jurie, and God hath the sentence past,
Vpon them hoth; and now he comes to sue,
For a reprieve, as to his Kingdome due.

The Devill sueth for a reprieve for Sinne and Death, and useth sundry Arguments.

Lord am not I thy creature, thou didst make,
Me glorious? when with Angels I did take
Delight to doe what thou didst me command:
And pleasure tooke, to waite then at thy hand.
I sinn'd but once, yet by that sinne I fell,
From heavens glory, to the pit of hell.
Thy creature man on which thou sett'st thy love,
Still sinneth, and his sinning doth not move
Thee to reject him; but in favour still,
He doth receive the fruits of thy good will.
Seeing it is so, that I no hope have ever,
To be restor'd, though I should use indeavour,
I set my selfe to stablish me a throne,
Except thy selfe, Ile be controul'd by none.


Now sinne and death, are servants unto me,
They doe my worke, and alwayes willing be,
To bring me honour, profit; they converse,
And trade with men, I have a rich commerce,
By both their meanes: the pillars of my state,
I them esteeme; and I at any rate
Would not them lose; they both do know my bents
I cannot worke without such instruments,
Why dost thou me before the time torment,
Condemning them to hinder my intent;
Thou know'st my time is very short to stay,
Here; I am bound unto the Judgement day,
In chaines of darknesse, then I must abide,
Thy burning wrath: to recompence my pride.
That is as much as Justice can desire,
Now I of thee this one thing doe require.
If I may have this favour at thy hand,
As devils are, Ile be at thy command.
That sin and death may both their freedome have,
By a reprieve, this is the thing I crave,
And doe my worke as they were wont to doe it,
Give liberty; for they are willing to it.
Thou didst at first permit me for to enter,
Into the serpent, I to tempt did venter
The woman first, then in the second place,
Ore man prevail'd; and brought on both disgrace
The King that was according to thy heart,
Thou gav'st me leave to tempt too, but the smart


He quickly felt; the people were incumbred
With plagues, destroy'd soone after they were nūbred.
Thou didst permit me for to try that King,
Who wicked was, by lying him to bring
To an untimely and a fearfull end,
That sold himselfe and ne're did good intend.
That man that great was, dwelling in the East,
Approv'd by thee to be of men the best,
Thou didst permit me for to trie him so,
That he almost did count thee for his foe.
Thou didst permit me for to try with fan,
Th' Apostles faith, so I did man by man,
And by that meanes they blessed on record,
Doe still remaine: with all that kept thy word.
Nay when I was from him that was possest
Cast: when I askt thou granted'st my request,
Into the Swine to enter, thou said'st goe,
Without thy leave, I could not have done so.
Now art not thou as kinde as heretofore?
To all thy favours, adde this favour more;
To free my servants: Kingdomes if divided
Long cannot stand; this was by thee decided.
By me thy justice shall the more appeare,
And mercie too, in freeing some from feare
Though I am bad, it best he comes a devill.
But thou art good: so render good for evill.
Let sin and death be quit that they may still,
Rejoyce with me: and execute my will.


Sathan is sharply rebuked in sundry particulars by the Lord.

Why dost thou claime a priviledge that thou,
My creature art? thou art a devill now?
Thou tri'st all meanes, to make all like to thee,
For desperation, and for miserie.
Thou wast in heaven, where no sinne did dwell,
Yet thou through pride, against me didst rebell
Thou wast not tempted, man by thee was tempted,
Why should not he, by mercy be exempted?
From wrath? which is for evermore thy due,
With all that fell: which are a cursed crue.
For man, I have redeem'd him by my Sonne,
Which paid a price, else had he been undone.
No price nor means can serve to helpe thee out,
Of thy curs'd state: if thou should'st goe about,
It were in vaine, though thou a Kingdome hast,
And men cannot, yet I will lay thee wast.
Though Sinne and Death be still at thy command,
What canst thou doe, when they are by my hand,
Supprest? why dost thou now so much desire,
To have reprieve for them? because hell fire
Reserv'd for thee is to that judgement day?
Me thinks these thoughts, thy malice might allay.
That still the more thou art to sinne inclin'd,
The more in hell of torment thou shalt find.


The more of men thou drawest to thy will,
The more with wrath I will thy spirit fill.
Though I in justice did some time permit thee,
(Dost thinke that for such sinnes I doe acquit thee?)
T'intice the good or make the bad grow worse,
To make me powre on them the greater curse.
Thou dost accuse my Saints, and mak'st me try them
I nothing finde, but that thou dost belye them.
If I command thee not to use thy power,
'Gainst man; then thou wilt the beasts devoure.
If what thou would'st thou canst not bring about,
Thou'lt play at small game, rather than sit out
Not parted, but orethrowne, thy Kingdome shall
Ere long be: then with cursed great and small.
If sinne become thee, comely thou shalt be,
Enough shalt thou have, with sins miserie.
Thou monster vile, should I thee good reward,
When none for sinne with thee, can be compar'd.
If sinne and death repriev'd are (this thy choise)
How much, how long, would'st thou with them rejoyce.

A Reprieve is granted, that Gods justice might the more appeare.

Now though I grant thee this thy vile request,
Of all thy evils this is not the least:
My justice shall on thee the more appeare,
In sinne, and sinners, horrour, guilt, and feare,


Shall waite, and death shall be by me restrain'd,
So sin, and death, together shall be chain'd.
Accurst from me they shall be, men shall know,
Its but the fruit of raging flames below:
And as they band against men, so their hire,
Shall be the more in hels tormenting fire,
They shall not hatch the mischiefe they intend,
Ile crush their force, and crosse their cursed end.
But for my foes that side with sin against me,
They earnest give for death and miserie.
Repriev'd they shall be but on these conditions
That never they orepasse these strict commissions.

Sinne and Death prohibited in sundry particulars remaine both under sentence till the time of execution.

Sinne shall not raigne in any of my owne
Redeem'd, then he shall soone be overthrowne,
Death shall not strike the just before their time,
When they are ripe, Ile pluck them in their prime,
Sinne shall not raile nor persecute the best:
Death shall not fright them though that he be prest
Against them, they shall willing be to part,
From worldly pompe, before he kill the heart:
Sinne shall not set up tyrants in high places,
Lest they should bring their betters to disgraces.


Death shall not venture on such presently,
That wicked men judge worthy for to die.
Sinne shall not take all fat, and sweet away,
And let men beg, or starve, or goe astray,
For want of comfort (casting truth behinde)
Nor slight the cries of them distrest in minde.
Death shall not shew his face to any one,
In the new birth untill the worke be done.
Sinne shall not mocke at men that serve the Lord,
With upright hearts, this I have still abhorr'd.
Death shall not vexe those that are griev'd for sin,
With purpose for a new life to begin.
Sinne shall not be in painted shewes set forth,
To hinder truth that is so great of worth.
Death shall not seaze for small things on the poore,
Or free the rich of greater for their store.
Sinne never more shall turne the streame away,
Nor with the highest er'e shal beare the sway,
Death shall not touch a man without my leave,
Or any thing else, of its life bereave:
Let sinne and death, still under sentence dwell,
Till they with thee, together meet in hell.
FINIS.


Serious Directions and Instructions, for our practice touching Sinne.

Abhorre that which is evill, cleave to that which is good. Rom. 12. 9.

Wash me from mine iniquitie, and cleanse me from my sinne. Psalm. 51. 2.

To him that overcommeth, J will give to eate of the Tree of Life, which is in the middest of the Paradice of God. Rev. 2. 7.



1

Seeing Sinne hath got reprieve againe,
About the world he'l use his might,
To flatter men their soules to staine,
With filthy sinne, then with great spight,
He'l lay upon men heavie weights,
And bring their mindes to dreadfull streights.

2

The best advise that I can give,
I readie am to shew to thee,
How through Gods mercie thou maist live,
From sinnes Dominion ever free.
And from the guilt that followes sinne,
Though Sinne and Sathan bring it in.


3

Over thy heart be watchfull still,
Subdue the rising of the minde,
And bring thy soule to hate all ill,
That now or after thou shalt finde.
The bent of all thy heart let bee,
To serve the Lord, he'l honour thee.

4

The evill motions first of all,
Resist before thou doe it like,
Thou easie maist keepe out of thrall,
If thou defend when sinne doth strike:
When he doth finde that he's descrid'd,
He'l soone desist, his face to hide.

5

The temper of thy nature finde,
And chiefly there keepe strongest guard,
Against what sinne thou'rt most inclin'd,
For, 'twill thy labours well reward.
Sin will be weake, grace will be strong,
Sin leave thee will ere it belong.


6

Occasions shun which else will draw,
Thee unto sinne, and by degrees,
Thou wilt neglect, or hate Gods law,
And plunge thy selfe in miseries.
For if sinne get the upper hand,
Then tyrant-like, he'll thee command.

7

Count no sin small that thou dost know,
The least's enough to make thee dwell,
(To thinke thus makes sin greater grow)
In the eternall pit of hell.
There's no sinne small in Gods account,
But sinne his mercies doe surmount.

8

Bethinke thy selfe what good there hath,
At any time come in by sin,
And thou shalt finde nothing but wrath,
It brings; as now, so hath it been:
No good but bad in sinne remaines,
Though seeming good, 'tis cursed gaines.


9

Consider why God doth thee feed,
And cloth, to sinne? it is not so:
To thee his workes he shewes indeed,
Thou might'st him serve not like a foe,
Which of Gods blessings is a grave,
That giveth naught, yet more doth crave,

10

Acquaint thy selfe more with Gods word,
With all things in't, there thou shalt see,
That sinne and sinners on record
Are curst, to all eternitie:
And that the godly have reward,
Though them the world did not regard.

11

Love truth divine, and precepts still
Lay up as treasure in thy heart;
Thy minde with comforts ever fill,
They'l ease and qualifie thy smart
The best parts of Philosophy,
Must stoope unto divinitie.


12

When sinne comes thinke it's poyson sweet,
He brings to take away thy life,
He is thy foe be so discreet,
To keepe at distance, and at strife:
Against him all thy power bend,
If to thy selfe thou good intend.

13

If Sinne intreat, or if't command,
Or suit with humours of thy minde,
Tempt, yet be not at any hand,
To fancies vaine be still unkinde.
If sinne doe not thee first disarme,
Thou need'st not feare of taking harme.

14

When sinne doth so deforme the shape,
Of men, then looke how comely they,
When like an Anticke or an Ape,
They are: nay worse than beasts of prey.
What's bad in others to behold,
Thinke worse in thee, this case unfold.


15

Men would with sinne share in the best,
Th' account at last all would avoid,
The sowre must goe with the rest,
Such men by sinne will be annoyd:
For when their monsters come to birth,
None would them father on the earth.

16

There's none in sinne desires to die,
Though live in sinne they doe desire,
'Tis best to leave sinne willingly,
Else sinne at last will bring its hire,
What's bad at death, bad now appeare,
What's good at last is good now here.

17

Avoid the Company that's ill,
Lest they thee poyson with their breath,
Resort to such as love truth still,
Such shew thee life, the bad bring death.
God will preserve the godly heart,
When wicked men shall feele sinnes smart.


18

The worst with God acquaintance claime,
When all their friends doe them forsake,
In this they shew their cursed aime,
Not for himselfe they would him take:
Though he be lovely; but to free,
Them from sinnes wages, miserie.

19

When they that love sinne goe to hell,
They leave such witnesse them behinde,
A dreadfull stinking noysome smell,
And ill examples men doe finde;
Their names from honour leave they free:
They'r curst to all posteritie.

20

See what an honour God bestowes,
Vpon his servants here below,
They daunt the world, and sinne orethrowes,
They doo Gods will for him they know.
And when that they goe to their rest,
They leave behinde a name that's blest,


21

Let hatred rise 'gainst sinne, and why?
Not for the shame, but for Gods cause,
And 'twas for sinne that Christ did die,
And so by sinne we breake Gods lawes:
Because 'tis cursed from the Lord,
Let sinne by thee be still abhorr'd.

22

When sinne doth seeme so Angell like,
Then take good heed lest he on thee,
His poyson spit, his sting thee strike,
With it no plague compar'd can be:
The sweet meats surfeit kils the strong,
With meaner diet weake live long.

23

Distrust thou most, what most doth please,
Be jealous of thy knowledge when,
Its flesh in thee that pleads for ease,
Grace sinne resists, though now and then
It takes delight in friendly mirth,
His name's not graven in the earth.


24

Be ever low in thy conceit,
Of all be willing still to learne,
Though sinne for thee doe lay his baite,
Thou shalt through wisedome it discerne,
The lower men themselves doe deeme,
The higher God doth them esteeme.

25

Though sinne doe vexe thee, thou maist make
Such use t'accomplish thy desires,
Though here it make thy heart to ake,
Thou shalt rejoyce when life expires,
The sower of sinne makes heaven sweet,
Long'd for the more; God thinks it meet.

26

Above the world free from sinnes reach,
Live still: no hurt then comes to thee,
So from experience thou shalt teach,
Thy soule to keepe from miserie,
The sense of Gods love shall possesse,
The heart with heavens happinesse.


27

Be fruitfull in the worke of grace,
On heaven ever set thy minde,
Deny thy worke in any case,
To all that's good be thou inclin'd:
Of what thou hast, or dost, give praise
To God, that strengthens thee alwayes.

28

Thinke 'tis not long that thou shalt here,
Be so perplexed with sins ill,
Thy glorious conquest shall appeare,
If thou against sinne bend thy will:
If thou Gods glory dost intend,
Thy joyes shall be world without end.

29

The more thou dost make warre with sinne,
The more thou sett'st Gods glory forth,
So thou shalt have true peace within,
And joy, more than the world is worth.
Mad men and fooles, alone forsake,
Gods counsell; they part with sinne take.


30

Commit thy selfe with thy successe
To God, and pray still for his aide,
He'll give a sweet and full redresse,
To all thy griefes, be not afraid.
Let feare and shame seaze on all those,
That hold with sinne, to God they'r foes.

31

Remember still that by Gods power,
Sinne is restrain'd and bounded so,
He cannot hurt, much lesse devoure,
Vnlesse the Lord doe bid him goe;
Keepe in with God, and love him still,
Sinne workes thee good, though he be ill,

32

It is not sinne, but sinne belov'd,
That cuts thee off from saving grace,
For what thou dost, God is not mov'd,
To give to thee a dwelling place
In heaven; no 'tis mercies store,
Laid up in Christ for millions more.


33

Christ was on purpose sent to earth,
To free us from sins cursed sting,
And to destroy that monstrous birth,
(That he might freedome to us bring)
Sinnes workes: as for, so in all those,
That with consent unto him close,

34

If guilt of sinne doe once but looke,
Or stare thee in the face, O then
Beleeve that Christ when flesh he tooke,
'Twas to redeeme poore sinfull men;
From feare, and wrath, and power of hell,
They might in heaven with him dwell.

35

If thou canst finde no blessed store
Nor grace appeares unto thy sight,
Then thinke what thou hast felt before,
In darknesse thou must have some light;
Experience past will helpe at need,
Though fruit be spent thou maist have seed.


36

If nothing of that store remaines,
Nor seed yet Christs owne work doth stay,
And with returne the soule constraines,
That from him he'll not part away;
Though comfort here we can see none,
'Tis best to trust in him alone.

37

Sinne at the last shall be destroy'd;
And cast into the darksome pit,
Although he hath thee so annoid,
His time is short then thinke of it,
Though for a time he vexe thee sore,
Thou shalt be freed for evermore,

38

And after long and many teares,
Thou shedst for sinne, O then at last,
Thou ever shall be quit from feares,
Thy sorrowes all shall then be past;
No more of troubles thou shalt see,
Then, if for sinne thou greeved be.


39

And if thou hast sinne overthrowne,
And kept the faith with all thy might,
To all the world thou shalt be knowne,
And shalt receive in open sight,
Thy portion with the Saints above,
The fruits of Gods eternall love.

40

That glory cannot be exprest,
By mortall men that are below,
But they that dwell above are blest,
They doe the heavenly beauty know.
Lord bring us thither for to see,
The glory of thy Majestie.
FINIS.


Serious Directions, and Instructions concerning Death.

Withall shewing who are unwilling to die, and why.

As also, who are willing, and upon what conditions.

Concluding with heavenly Ejaculations.

Lift up your heads, for the day of your Redemption draweth nigh. Luk. 21. 28.

For me to live is Christ, and to die is gaine. Philip. 1. 21.

The Dead in Christ shall rise first. 1 Thes. 4. 16.



1

Though death be sentenc'd, yet he still,
Remaines, and will his freedome have;
While times doe last; he'l ever kill
Mankinde, and throw all in the grave:
That foe that shall be last destroy'd,
Is Death; he makes all men afraid.


2

When men looke on, and see his face,
So pale, and ghastly, downe they sinke,
Then dreadfull darknesse takes its place,
And waites mans comming at pitts brinke.
Keepe company with wormes he must,
Till God doe raise him from the dust.

3

This thing to Nature terror brings,
When man must leave his house, though clay,
The comfort of all earthly things,
Forsake he must, his score then pay,
Then he that did not live to die,
Then dying, dies eternally.

4

The man that's wicked, dies before,
Death comes; with horrour for his sinne,
That worme doth gnaw him very sore,
That lives in hell, the soule within.
Death never comes, but brings ill newes,
To all that love ill; good refuse.


5

Those that in honour, wealth, or ease,
Doe live, they loth are to depart,
The thoughts of death doe not them please,
But death it selfe quite killes the heart,
A kinde of heaven they have here,
They would not change, for worse they feare.

6

He that is ignorant of good,
And lives by sense so like a bruit,
He's never taken in that mood,
So fit for death, to bring forth fruit,
This world he knowes, no other he
Knowes: thinking death brings miserie.

7

The man that's weake in grace would stay,
A while to see the cloud of wrath.
Blow ore, to see a glorious day,
That he of truth may see the path:
Though such are slighted in the land,
They are still on the mending hand.


8

One that's strong yet falles by sinne,
He would not die in that same case,
Vntill true peace he finde within:
By grace to live he begges a space,
Such cannot sinne so cheape, nor sweet,
As fooles doe, for they thinke it meet.

9

For civill ends some would revive,
To gather and to give estates,
To children, and to see them thrive,
And see him turne, that counsell hates;
When they are dead alive may be:
Men live in their posteritie.

10

Some higher ends have in their eyes,
They'd see in Sion peace, and rest,
Out live they would those fearfvll cries,
That thence are heard, such ends are best:
To see the fall of Babels pride,
Then they would die; the cause is tri'd.


11

My generall advice is this,
Remember death must seaze on all,
Thinke and prepare (O doe not misse)
Thy selfe: against, when death doth call
In expectation daily die;
And willing be in dust to lye.

12

In doubtfull things men use to feare,
On certaine things men doe resolve,
What doth more plaine than this appeare,
That death must all ere long dissolve;
Why should a man whose time is short,
Jest at mens death with sinfull sport?

13

Repent of sinne the sting of death,
There's no such thing as many deeme,
In't: though that he do stop thy breath,
Thou maist be great in Gods esteeme;
Hold in with Christ then sweetly sing,
O cruell death where is thy sting.


14

Death to the best a gaine indeed,
Is, they doe change this place of strife,
Though in the grave wormes on them feed,
Yet they shall have eternall life:
They doe but mellow in the dust,
Till God new mould, and make them just.

15

Have still thy heart on heaven set,
And keepe Gods love fresh in thy heart,
(Though Death doe catch thee in his net)
'Twill not be fired out by art.
Love stronger doth than death appeare,
Such love will free thee from deaths feare.

16

Let wicked men so tremble still,
At thoughts of death, that they may leave,
Their sinnes, let sorrow their hearts fill,
Ere death doth them of life bereave:
That they may learne to hate their sin,
And may a new life once begin.


17

It's best for those that live at full,
To set the worst before their eyes,
And rouse themselves (for such are dull)
And have regard to poore mens cries:
You'd best give bread, while here you dwell,
Lest you your water beg in hell.

18

Learne to know want in midst of wealth,
And die to riches while you live,
And thinke of sicknesse in your health,
Doe not content to humours give;
Life will not be so strange to these,
If thou from earth dyest by degrees.

19

The foolish must know (though 'tis bad)
That death will take them all away,
Then are not such men worse than mad,
That drive off all untill that day,
Till they doe see needs they must die,
And they despairing quaking lie?


20

Beat downe conceit, and thinke thou art,
A foole indeed; then thou maist learne
To know the turnings of thy heart,
And maist true wisedome then discerne:
That thou maist then receive at last,
Eternall life when this is past.

21

Let tender hearted men beleeve,
Their grace is true, though 'tis not strong,
Let not the thoughts of death them greeve,
They shall be freed ere it be long.
Gods strength is thine, which will prevaile,
Against all feares that thee assaile.

22

Those that be strong, yet be falne downe,
And feares of death oppresse them so,
That they have lost their great renowne,
And God himselfe seemes like a foe,
Strengthen your hearts and feeble hands,
Rescue your selves from feare and bands.


23

If you be cowards, you will shame,
The cause, your selves, and others will,
Be fearfull, when they heare the name,
Of death: such frailties shew the ill,
Vse well the gifts that God doth give,
That though death comes, your joy may live.

24

And ever after have a care
Of falling from your stedfastnesse,
You need not then to feare the snare,
Of death, but heavens happinesse,
Will tend on you, and you shall see,
The glorie of eternitie.

25

Those that would leave a happie seed,
Behinde them when death throwes his dart,
Must pray, and labour still indeed,
That God with grace may fill the heart.
That they may live to God below,
When they above Gods praises shew.


26

And they that long to see the peace,
Of Sion, ere they'd leave their life,
Let them not grutch their lives to cease,
For death will free them from all strife:
In heaven they at last shall see,
Their freedome with felicity.

27

Some willing are to die, when they
Are vext, or want their wils in things,
They thinke they have no score to pay,
Though death them endlesse torment brings.
They ignorant of death remaine,
Till second death bring such their gaine.

28

Some desperate persons that doe kill
Themselves; they seeke for't, which they finde,
The curse of God their soules shall fill,
The effect will not please well the minde.
The first fruits of hell may suffice,
To reape the crop such fooles devise.


29

Some of a better making doe,
Sometimes in passion wish to die,
Such in distresse are foolish too,
And fret disdaining miserie:
But when God chides them, quickly they
Were sorry, that they went astray.

30

Those that are Gods, the truth so grace,
Confesse they will unto the death,
They willing are to give the place,
To tyrants, and to lose their breath.
Before they will deny Gods name,
They'l give themselves, to burning flame.

31

Such that have peace with God above,
Do draw from earth their hearts content,
And with their sins are out of love.
And to all good their hearts are bent,
Their blessed'st life doth then begin,
When death doth set them free from sinne.


32

But yet if God would have them stay,
A while on earth they willing are,
To doe his will, their soules each day
Confirme: how ere the bodie fare.
When the body growes towards earth,
The soule brings forth immortall birth.

33

The wicked still are in extreames,
They would not die if God should call,
They of this world have then such dreames,
Of joy: which they'l not part withall.
They'r so bewitcht to pleasure here,
There's nothing else but death they feare.

34

And others that God bids to save,
The lives of others, and their owne,
They'r brought untimely to their grave,
And by themselves are overthrowne:
Such feare not death, but downe to hell,
They headlong rush, and there doe dwell.


35

I cannot chuse but I must chide
Those that in sullen fits would die,
The worlds disgrace cannot abide,
For trouble that upon them lie:
They must of this with teares repent,
Or else of God they shall be shent.

36

Can any suffering be too much,
For God his cause or glory? when
They shall have a reward with such,
In heaven? these are blessed men,
That never share in troubles more,
They now rejoyce though sad before.

37

Such as are willing for to yeeld,
Their lives to death, for Christ his sake,
By Death they conquer in the field,
In losing life a better take:
They leave a dread upon all those,
That unto God and them are foes.


38

Who would not willing be to part,
With earth for heaven? when they have,
Got peace with God, by gratious art,
And knowing God their soules will save?
For heaven let all those be prest,
That fitted are thus for their rest.

39

Yet let not any grudge to stay,
Till they have done the worke that he
Hath set them to, spending their day,
In good, while they here present be
Returning still their pay: therefore,
Worke now; then thou need'st work no more.

40

The more men do, or suffer here,
For truth; their crown they doe augment,
Their glory shall the more appeare,
Though death do close them in his tent;
God shewes his face here most to such,
That liv'd long, wrought, and did not grudge.


41

It's best for bad to die betime,
For living long, their sins increase:
And sinfull acts grow to their prime,
Their sinnes live still, though life do cease,
Though they are rotten in the dust,
Their sins are fresh, they meet them must.

42

They'd best to tremble in such sort,
At thoughts of death that they may know,
And heare the dreadfull ill report,
Of sinne, while here they live below:
Death puts an end to vaine delights,
Then doth begin, hell, horror, frights.

43

But to the just, their sorrow ends;
They joy (though 'twas begun before)
With full increase, which makes amends
For trouble much, their joyes are more:
Of this the blessed Saints can tell,
As damned can relate of hell.


44

What though the soule and body parts,
Which loving friends have been so long?
The thoughts of this may glad their hearts,
That they shall meet both sweet and strong,
Refin'd: and with each other joy,
In heaven still without annoy.

45

Death is no death; it doth but ope,
A doore, the soule away may flie,
And so possesse that blessed hope,
It hath of true felicitie
To leave fraile life, who'd thinke it strange,
To have eternall in exchange?

46

Death's but a blast, that soone blowes ore,
And never more shall looke on thee,
The hurt is nothing, feare is more,
Though dreadfull it do seeme to be.
God will it sweeten from above,
And thou shalt finde his constant love.


47

Ile feare it not, for why should I?
For life and death together goes,
By every crosse Ile learne to die,
They'r both my friends, but they are foes:
Life doth consent with Death each day,
To take part of my life away.

48

Lord I will serve thee while I here,
Remaine: what need I much to care,
For death: when thou freest me from feare?
I will thy goodnesse still declare.
My life shall ever speake thy praise,
When death comes, I shall live alwayes.
FINIS.


The Resolutions of the Muse, in her Pilgrimage.

Now I of Time, and Vanity have sung,
Of Darknesse, Light, and Life, sad, sweet, & strong,
Of Sin, of Death, Instructions too among;
Ile seeke my fortune now, and goe about,
I shall be entertain'd, I make no doubt,
Though I am naked, love will finde me out.
I shall be cloth'd then in a sute of Leather,
And love, and I, both still shall dwell together,
And she'l be glad, that ever I came hither.
And if a Noble person do me grace,
To take me in, in this distressed case,
Ile do my service faithfull in my place.
If one that's learned take me home to dwell,
Ile pray him then that he will use me well,
Or to a better I my selfe will sell.


If I should dwell with him that's truly wise,
He'l hide my faults & what's of worth he'l prize
And then my song to praise him shal devise.
If he that's honest, bids me welcome in,
Ile doe my best to helpe to kill his sin,
I shall not lose, yet he by me shall win.
If noble, learned, wise, and honest too,
Doe shew respect to me, who then durst doe,
Me wrong? they cannot, 'tis no matter who:
If one ignoble, seeing me, doe grutch,
To shew me favour, thinke it's all too much,
That I receive, I looke for none of such.
If one unskill'd in any learned art,
Against me proudly act a Tyrants part,
He'l vexe in vaine, he shall not greeve my heart.
For want of wit, if any doe me blame,
Let them as fools, keep in their spight with shame
My song's the same, and so are they by name.
If one that's vile, looke with disdainfull eye,
On me, because I doe his faults espie;
Ile leave him gall'd, when I from him doe flie.


If any Senior, looking big, and grave,
Conceits he knowes, yet he no knowledge have,
If me he slight, I will his absence crave.
Or if I finde one with an emptie pate,
That nothing speakes, though he doe ever prate,
Ile shew his shame, but not his person hate.
If one I finde, that hath a barren soule,
And will not see't, yet doe my words controule,
Let him be put, with stultus in his rowle.
If one that's simple, doe desire me,
To gaine experience, constant I will be,
To doe my best to him, that all shall see.
If any censure me, is this the cause,
Their parboyl'd spirits cannot gaine applause?
They break both Gods, Natures & humane laws.
If one detract from good, or turne to ill,
My honest meaning this may follow still,
That such like things, his measure here may fill.
Such Imps to plead for sinne, were very fit,
But seldome they have so much art, or wit,
As pride, or lust have; for to manage it.


If one that reades, and rudely breakes my feet,
Or spoyles my joynts: my musicke is not sweet,
To him: the Horne-book is for him most meet.
If one through envie, proudly do disdaine,
To grant me favour, others will obtaine,
The fruit, but he hath labour for his paine.
If any mend my faults, I will him praise,
And with my voice, his honour I will raise,
His name in me preserv'd shall be alwayes.
All that I crave, is but a spotlesse name,
And not to mount upon the wings of fame,
Plain welcome likes me; quit me all from blame,
You know my minde, for what I speake is true
Being modest, I will not for favour see;
Receive me: else Ile bid you now adieu.
FINIS.