University of Virginia Library

The fourth Booke.

1. A good Morrow.

Tis day: Vnfold thine Armes; Arise, and rouze
Thy leaden Spirits, and pay thy Morning Vowes;
Send up thy Incense; Let her early smoke
Renew that League thy very dreames have broke;
Then mayst thou worke or play; Nothing shall be
Displeasing to thy God, that pleases thee.

2. A Good-night.

Close now thine eyes, and rest secure;
Thy Soule is safe enough; thy Body sure;
He that loves thee, he that keepes
And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleepes.
The smiling Conscience in a sleeping brest
Has only peace, has onely rest:
The musicke and the mirth of Kings,
Are all but very Discords, when she sings:
Then close thine Eyes and rest secure;
No Sleepe so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.

3. On a Printing-house.

The world's a Printing-house: our words, our thoughts
Our deeds, are Characters of sev'rall sizes:
Each Soule is a Compos'ter; of whose faults
The Levits are Correctors: Heav'n revises;
Death is the common Press; frō whence, being driven,
W'are gatherd Sheet by Sheet, & bound for Heaven.

4. A Dialogue, betweene Gabriel and Mary .

Gabriel.
Haile blessed Mary:

Ma.
What celestial tongue
Cals sinfull Mary blessed?

Gab:
It is I:

Ma:
Who art thou?

Ga:
I am Gabriel that belong
To the high Quire of Heaven:

Ma:
I faint, I dye:

Ga:
Feare not sweet Virgin; all the Earth shall be
Made debters to thy Womb, and blest in Thee.

Ma:
How Lord?

Ga:
Thy Virgin-womb shal beare a Son
That shal redeem the world.

Ma:
My Lord, how can
Such wonders come to passe; such things be done
By a poore Virgin, never knowne by Man?

Ga:
The holy Ghost, at his appointed howre,
Shall make thee pregnant by his sacred powre:

Ma:
Wonder of wonders!

Ga:
At whose height the Quire
Of heav'n stand ravisht, tremble, & admire.

Ma:
O may it be according to thy Word:

Ga:
Before that twice five Moons compleated be
Thou shalt be knowne the Mother of our Lord,
And thou shalt dance thy Saviour on thy knee.

Ma:
Both heav'n & earth shal triumph, & the frame
Of hell shall tremble at Maria's name:

Ga:
All Ages past, and present, and to come,
Shall joy in Mary, and in Marye's Wombe.

5. On Rhemvs .

If Heav'n would please to purge thy Soule as well
As Rome thy purse, thou needst not feare a Hell.

6. On the life of Man.

Mans day's a Song, compos'd by th'great Musition,
Full of harmonious Ayres and dainty choyce;
But spoyld with Discords, and too much Division;
Abus'd and lost for want of skill, and voyce:
We misse our Rests, and we neglect our Graces;
Our life the Trebble, and our death the Base is:

7. On Mary .

Foure Marye's are eternizd for their worth;
Our Saviour found out three, our Charls, the fourth.

8. On the Church.

Let not thy blacknesse move thee to despaire;
Black Women are belov'd of men that's faire:
What if thy hayre her flaxen brightnes lack?
Thy face is comely, though thy Brow be black

9. On the two Essences.

Gods sacred Essence represents the bright
And glorious body of the greater light:
'Tis perfect; hath a Being of her owne,
Giving to all, receiving light from none:
Mans Essence represents the borrowed light
And feeble luster of the Lampe of night:
Her Rayes are faint, and her Reflection thin,
Distaind with nat'rall blemishes within;
Inconstant, various; having, of her owne,
No light at all; or light, as good as none:
When too much earth shall interpose, and slipps
Betwixt these Lights, our Soules are in th'Eclips.

10. On our Saviours Passion.

The earth did tremble; and heav'ns closed eye
Was loth to see the Lord of Glory dye:
The Skyes were clad in mourning, & the Spheares
Forgat their harmony; The Clouds dropt teares:
Th'ambitious Dead arose to give him roome;
And ev'ry Grave did gape to be his Tombe;
Th'affrighted heav'ns sent down elegious Thunder;
The Worlds Foundation loos'd, to lose their Founder;
Th'impatient Temple rent her Vaile in two,
To teach our hearts what our sad hearts should do:
Shall senslesse things doe this, and shall not I
Melt one poore drop to see my Saviour dye?
Drill forth my Teares; and trickle one by one,
Till you have peirc'd this heart of mine, this Stone.

11. On Peter .

What luck had Peter! For he tooke a Fish
That stor'd his purse, as well as fill'd his dish;
Whose bounty did inrich, as well as feed him;
But they are better Fishers that succeed him:
He catcht by chance: These catch the like by skill:
He catcht but once: These catch them whē they will:
They cast their Angles into better Seas;
Their bayts are only for such Fish as these:
Brave sport, and full of curious pleasure! Come,
There is no Fishing to the Sea—of Rome.

12. On Herodias .

I'le tell thee, Light-skirts, whosoever taught
Thy feet to dance, thy dancing had a Fault:
Thou'lt find it deare, Herodias, if thou do'st
Compare thy pen'worth with the price it cost.

13. On Faith and Hope.

How much the stronger, Hopes on life relye,
So much the weaker is my Faith, to dye.

14. On Water and Wine.

The happy diff'rence and sweet change of life,
When a chast Virgin turnes a loyall Wife,
Our blessed Lord, in Cana did divine,
And turnd cold Water into lusty Wine.

15. On Age.

How fresh blood dotes! O how green Youth delires?
It most disdaines the thing it most desires.

16. On a Figg-tree.

A christian's like a Figg-tree, that does beare
Fruit, greene, or ripe, or blossomes all the yeare.
No wonder then, our Saviour curs't that Tree;
Figg-trees are alwayes dead, where no Figgs be.

17. On Rhemvs .

Rhemus , upon a time I heard thee tell,
A Wall divideth Purgatory and Hell;
And that a gold-bought Masse will cleare th'offence
That brought us thither, and redeeme us thence:
Ah Rhemus, what demented Soule would spare
To ruine Wife, or to dis-land an Heyre,
Rather then feele such torments, you pretend,
That equall Hell in all but Time, and end?
Ah Rhemus, If the power of Gold be such,
How dare you be so bold to dye so rich!

18. On Iacob .

Nere boast thy Bargaine, Iacob: For poore we
Have made a better contract far, then thee:
We envy not his Land thou didst inherit;
Our Brother tooke our Flesh; gave us his Spirit.

19. On Simon Magvs .

Simon , bring Gold enough; and I will tell thee,
Wher thou shalt buy what Peter wold not sel thee:
Repaire to his Successors; They are free
And frolick Gamsters; not so strict as Hee:
Nay, if thy Gold be weake, they will not stand
To sell good Pen'worths at the second hand:
They'l sell good cheape, but they'l not give to any;
No Pater-noster where there is no Penny:
No, if thy purse be like an empty Shell,
They will not give, what Peter would not sell.

20. On the Bishop of Rome.

Admit, great Prelat, that thou wert that Rock
Wheron the Church was founded; coldst unlock
The gates of Heav'n; and, with thy golden Key,
Make Hel thy Pris'ner, and the Fiends obey,
Thy Papall dignity would far be greater,
If thou wert Simon, but as well as Peter.

21. On Milo .

Do; strive to enter Milo, though the Gate
Be narrow, and the rugged passage straight;
Lessen thy selfe, and fast thy carkas thin;
Take in thy Flesh, 'twill get thee easier in:
Look up to heav'n, twill raise thy body' uprighter;
Give lib'rall alms, twil make thee tread the lighter:
Sweat forth thy base corruptions, and inherit
Thy promis'd Crowne, halfe lost for want of spirit;
Let not thy dastard, and dull thoughts disdaine
Those works which cold despaire mistakes, as vaine;
Take heed; Let not thy queazy Soule repine
Against those Actions which are none of thine:
Heav'n bids thee shine; what if thy Rayes be dim,
Doe thou thy best; leave the successe to Him:
Follow thy Worke; And when thy Soule shall be
Gather'd from hence, thy Works shall follow thee.

22. On Rome.

Good Works abound in Rome: 'Tis well they doe,
'Tis the best string they chalenge to their Bow:
But ev'ry Hee's no Monck, that weares a Hood,
'Tis well, if they'r well done, as well as good:
When wandring Passengers have lost their way,
No sort of men that ride so fast as they.

23. On three dayes and nights.

Thou knowst our dying Saviour did repose
On Friday; On the Sabbath, he arose;
Tell me, by what account can he be said
To lodge three dayes and nights among the dead?
He dyde for all the Word: what wanted here,
Was full supply'd in t'other Hemisphere.

24. On Tobits Dogge.

What luck had Tobits dog! what grace! what glory
Thus to be Kenel'd in th'Eternall Story!
Vntill th'Apocrypha and Scripture sever,
The mem'ry of Tobits dogg shall live for ever.

25. On the Gospell.

VVhen two Evangelists shall seeme to vary
In one discourse, they'r divers, not contrary;
One Truth doth guide them both; One spirit doth
Direct them; doubt not, to beleeve them both.

26. On Servio .

Servio , 'Tis scarcely worth thy paines, to smother
Or to subdue one Sin, and hugge another:
Beleeve it Servio, he that is in thrall
To one, is a potentiall Slave to all.

27. On Formio .

Formio will keepe the Sabbath, read and pray,
His lips are seal'd from oaths upon that day;
Formio is clad in black, and will absent
His fleshly thoughts, this holy time of Lent.
Thinkst thou that Formio's shaken hands with Sin?
No, tis but giving hands to meet agin.

27. On Iohn and Iesvs .

Iohn was the Morning-starre that did fore-run
The long-wisht rising of our Glorious Sun:
The first word that Iohns preaching lips expressed
Was this, Repent: Our Saviours first, was, Blessed:
Iohn makes th'incision; Iesus makes it sound;
Iesus nere cures, where Iohn ne're made a wound.

29. On dis-possessing.

We read, A broyled Fishes heart will scare
A frighted Divel from a troubled brest:
We read againe, By Fasting, and by Prayre
The fierce Demoniack's only dispossest:
What this affirmes, that flatly does denye;
With reverence to the Text, The t'one's a Lye.

30. On Herodias .

I have a young Herodias lives within me,
That never leaves to dance, untill she win me
To grant her Suit; will never cease to plead
Vntill I give her my Iohn Baptists head:
O then my sorrow would be past her date,
And I, like Herod, should repent too late.

31. On Malfido .

Sathans Injections are like Weeds that fall
Into thy Garden, darted ore the Wall,
Whose loathsom smel unscent thy sweeter Flowr's;
But grow not there, unles we make them ours:
They'l dye, neglected: If thou lend them roome,
They'l stink; But eas'ly thrown from whence they come:
Feare not, Malfido; those they be that spoyle
Thy Flow'rs, that suck their substance from the soyle.

32. On Slanders.

When undeserv'd report distaines my name,
It shames not, but perchāce prevents a Shame.

33. On Law and Gospell.

The Law is rough; The Gospell milde and calme;
That launc'd the Bile; & this powres in the Balme.

34. On a bosome Sin.

That Sin that finds more credit then the rest,
That is thy Darling, leanes upon thy brest;
That, in the Bosome of thy heart does lye;
That dips within thy dish, Sayes, Is it I?
That gives thee kisses; that's the Sin that slayes thee,
O that, O that's the Iudas, that betrayes thee.

35. On the World.

The World's a Booke, writ by th'eternall Art,
Of the great Maker, printed in Mans heart;
'Tis falsly printed, though divinely pend,
And all th'Erratas will appeare at th'end.

36. On my Soule.

My weather-beaten Soule long time has bin
Becalm'd, and tiding in the Sea of Sin;
But now Afflictions Storme does drive and tosse
Her batterd Keele: The wind is loud and crosse:
Feare fills her tatterd Sailes, & doubts doe drive her,
She knowes not where; & of all hopes deprive her:
Thus, thus transported by the troubled Ayre
Amongst the swallowing Quick-sands of despaire,
If not prevented by a greater power,
She looks for wreck and ruine ev'ry hower;
O, that mine Eyes could raine a Showre of Teares,
That, that would lay the Storme of all my Feares.

37. On the Cuckoe.

The idle Cuckoe, having made a Feast
On Sparrowes Eggs, layes downe her owne i'th' Nest;
The silly Bird she ownes it, hatches, feeds it;
Protects it from the weather, clocks and breeds it;
It neither wants repose nor yet repast,
And joyes to see her Chicken thrive so fast:
But when this gaping Monster has found strength
To shift without a helper, she at length
Nor caring for that tender care that bred her,
Forgets her parent, kills the Bird that fed her:
The Sin we foster in our bosome, thus
Ere we have left to feed it, feeds on vs.

38. On Tobit .

Was it not time to send his sonne to Rages,
For mony, whē his wife spun hard for wages?
Was't not high time for him to post away,
That for an Angell paid a Groat a day?

39. On David .

Who ever sung so high; so rapt an Io
As David prompted by heroick Clio?
But when thy more divine Vrania sung,
What glorious Angell had so sweet a tongue?
But when Melpomene began to sing,
Each word's a Rapture, or some higher thing:
Sweet were thy triumphs; sweet those joyes of thine;
O, but thy Teares were more then most Divine.

40. On a Monument.

Seest thou that Mon'ment? Dost thou see how Art
Does polish Nature to adorne each part
Of that rare Worke, whose glorious Fabricke may
Commend her beauty to an after day?
Is't not a dainty Peece? And apt to raise
A rare advantage to the Makers praise?
But knowst thou what this dainty Peece encloses?
Beneath this glorious Marble there reposes
A noysome putrid Carkas, halfe devour'd
By crawling Caniballs, disguiz'd, deflour'd
With loath'd Corruption, whose consuming sent
Would poyson Thoughts, although it have no vent:
Ev'n such a Peece art thou, who ere thou be
That readst these Lines: This Monument is Thee:
Thy Body is a Fabricke, wherein Nature
And Art conspire to heighten up a Creature
To summe Perfection, being a living Story
And rare Abridgement of his Makers Glory;
But full of lothsome filth, and nasty mire
Of lust, vncurb'd Affections, base desire;
Curious without, but most corrupt within;
A glorious Monument of inglorious Sin.

41. On Plavsvs .

Plausus has built a Church: And lest his Glory
Should dye, has boasted his vain glorious Story
Vpon the painted Wall, and built to Fame
A large Memoriall of his doubtfull Name:
Plausus, 'tis bravely done; Thy Deeds make knowne
Thou either seekst Gods glory, or thy owne.

42. On Censorio .

Thou blam'st the Age, cōdemns the dayes of crimes;
If thou wouldst mend thy Faults 'twould mend the Times.

43. On fooles of both kinds.

Some scorne the Cross, whilst others fall before it;
Some sit and take the Bread, and some adore it;
Some are too bold, and others too too nice;
Fooles act a Sin whilst they decline a Vice.

44. On the name of Iesvs .

It is the common course of man to double
The name of Iesus in the times of Trouble:
The name of Lord is not a stile to please us;
Iesu's no Lord with us; if Lord, no Iesus.

45. On the Woman with the Issue.

How could thy Soule, fond Woman, be assur'd
Thy long disease could be so eas'ly cur'd?
What? coldst thou think the touch of cloth was good
To dry the Fountaine of thy flowing Blood?
Or was't because our blessed Saviour wore it?
Or why? I read not, that thou didst adore it:
He nere so much as ownd thee, Woman: Sure,
Thy Faith, and not his Garments wrought the Cure.

46. On our Redemption.

We were created at a Word, a Breath;
Redeemed with no lesse then Blood & Death
How much a greater labour is it, than,
To wash a Sinner, then to make a Man!

47. On Gods Arme.

Twas not, that he was weake; or thou so strong;
He dy'd so soone, or that thou liv'dst so long:
The headstrong Oxe is haled to the slaughter,
When the poore worm crawls many a Summer after:
When Heav'ns victorious arme shal please to strike,
The Gyant and the Pigmey are alike.

48. On our blessed Saviour.

O thou that wert the King of heav'n and earth,
How poorely wert thou'attended at thy Birth!
A Manger was thy Cradle, And a Stable
Thy Privy-chamber, Marye's knees thy Table;
Thieves were thy Courtiers, & the Cross, thy Throne;
Thy Dyet, Gall; A wreath of Thornes, thy Crowne:
All this, the King of Glory' endur'd, and more,
To make vs Kings that were but Slaves before.

49. On Cordvplo .

Keepe in thy Actions, and maintaine the Fences
Of thy clos'd lipps, Corduplo, and thy Senses;
Thou shalt deceive both Man and Devill too,
And mayst be damn'd, and yet they never know;
The Devils power of knowledge never delves
Into our hearts, till we proclaime our selves.

50. On Dreames.

Who dreams a Sin, & not his dreams forbid it
An entertainment, sins as if he did it;
Which if thy slumbring Soule could not prevent,
Th'art safe, if thou hast dreamd thou didst repent.

51. On Adam .

How soon, poore Adam, was thy Freedome lost!
Forfeit to death ere thou hadst time to boast;
Before thy Triumph, was thy Glory done,
Betwixt a rising and a setting Sun:
How soon that ends, that should have ended never!
Thine eyes nere slept, untill they slept for ever.

52. On Sins and Blessings.

We write thy common Blessings, Lord, upon
A sliding streame; no sooner writ, but gon:
Thy more illustrious Favors we entrust
To the dry Sand, defac'd with ev'ry Gust:
But, Lord, our Scrowle of Sins are written downe
On during Marble, or some harder stone;
And our extreame mis-doings are thought good
To be inscrib'd, like Draco's Lawes, in blood:
Lord, let us change our Tables, or our Story,
And we shall have more Comfort; Thou, more Glory.

53. On Celia .

Celia complaines, her Heart cannot be well;
Nor will not, Celia, till it cease to swell:
'Tis too-too proud with blood, perverse and stout;
It must be launc'd to let the humour out:
Alas no launce can pierce it; It is growne
More hard then Raunce, or th'Adamantine stone:
Then Celia, like an Adamant, thou must
Make the incision with her owne made dust.

54. On Pvsillvs .

Pvsillus can be jocund, never whines
When he is full, but still, in want, repines;
And, like a bad-nos'd hound, that hunts not true,
Hee's at a Fault, if not the Game in view:
Be well advis'd Pusillus; Heav'n may chance
To pipe no more, if thou give ore to dance.

55. On Beliefe.

The Divels doe beleeve: I know they doe;
But their Beliefe does make them tremble too.

57. On Crastinio .

Past time is gone; the Future is to be;
Crastinio, say, which most belongs to thee?
The first, thou further goest and further from;
And thou mayst dye before the last shall come:
The first, Crastinio's now growne out of date,
Perchance the last may come, but come too late:
The last's uncertaine, and the first is gone,
The present then Crastinio's thine, or none.

58. On an Hower-glasse.

Mans life is like an Hower-glasse, wherein
Each severall sand that passes is a Sin;
And when the latest sand is spent and run;
Our Sinnes are finisht, as our lives are done.

59. On Kain .

Kain , 'tis true: It was, and did appeare
A Punishment too great for thee to beare:
If thou hadst had a Faith, and couldst have bin
As much opprest and loaded with thy Sin,
Thy greater patience either might out-worne it,
Or found more able Shoulders to have borne it.

59. On Ticio .

Ticio stands gaping for the clouded Sun
To be informd how fast the howers run:
Ah, foolish Ticio, art thou sound in minde,
To lose by seeking, what thou seekst to finde?

60. On Sortio .

Sortio , that makst a Trade of gaming, know
Thou breakst two great cōmand'ments at a throw:
The third thou break'st by thy abuse of Lott;
Thou breakst the Tenth, that bids thee Covet not:
Now tell me, Sortio, whether sins most high,
He that playes faire, or he that helps a Die?

61. On Raymond Sebvnd .

Honour to high-brain'd Raymond, And no lesse
To thy renowned Scholler, great Du Plesse:
Your high attempts object to our dull Sight
The God of Nature, by dull Natures Light:
But what has Raymond, and Du Plessis done?
They light but two bright Tapers to the Sun.

62. To Henry Earle of Holland .

Tis not the Sun-shine of great Cesars Eye,
Nor our Opinion makes thy Honour flye
So faire a pitch; Nor need thy Glory claime
Assistance from thy Blood, t'enrich thy Name:
But what it is that mounts thee up so high,
The World shall tell thee, Henry, and not I:
Blood gives no Vertue; nor Opinion, Glory;
And Princely Favors are but Transitory;
Heav'ns Act is mingled with great Cesars Eye:
Heav'n gave thee wings, and Cesar bids thee flye.

63. On Drunkards and Idolaters.

Which is the greater Sin, and which the lesse?
Which finds the sharper? which the milder Rod?
To turne Gods glorious Image to a Beast,
Or turne the Image of a Beast to God?
Thrice happy is that soule, and more then thrice,
That buyes no knowledge at so deare a price.

64. On dying.

He that would dye once well, must often trye;
Practice does bring perfection how to dye:
The Law's our Tutor; and the World our Schoole,
Wherein w'are taught by'example, as by Rule:
The Rod's Affliction, which being laid away,
The Gospell comes, and begs us leave to play.

65. On Ravens and Lillies.

Are not the Ravens, great God, sustaind by Thee?
And wilt thou cloth the Lilyes, and not me?
I'le nere distrust my God, for Cloath, & Bread,
Whilst Lilyes flourish, and the Ravens be fed.

66. On degrees of Sin.

Cvrses proportion to the Sins degree:
Adam had one; Eve, two; the Serpent, three.

67. A last Will.

My Life's my dying day; wherein I, still,
Am making, alter, and correct my Will:
My Soule I doe bequeath to God, provided,
Some smaller Legacies may be divided
Among my Friends: Item, my Sins I give
To my deare Iesus, whether dye or live:
Item, I give the World, that did refresh
The tender frailty of my feeble Flesh,
My lesser Cares: I doe bequeath moreover,
To my poore body, home-spun cloth, to cover
And hide her shame, & Food for needfull diet;
Some Sleepe, but not immoderate, to quiet
Distemper'd Nature, and in her Vacation,
Some lawfull Pleasures for her Recreation;
My Charity, to my poore helples brother,
I give; my Prayres to the true Church my Mother;
Whose watchfull eyes I must desier, still,
To be the Over-seers of my Will.

68. On our Iesvs .

Hee's like a Rock, which when we strive to shun
We are in danger to be wreckt vpon;
But when our wide-spred Armes seek Refuge there,
It will secure us from the harmes we feare.

69. To King Charles .

The Common-wealth is like an Instrument;
The divers sorts of people represent
The strings, all diffring in degrees, in places;
Some trebles, and some Meanes, and some are Bases:
The potent Rulers the Musitians are;
The musicke, sometimes peace; and somtimes warre;
The Lawes are like the Ruled Bookes that lye
Before their eyes, and which they practice by:
Play on great Charles; Heav'n make thy strings as strong,
And true, as thou art skilfull: Ravish long
The worlds wide eares, with thy diviner Ayres,
That whosoever to thy Land repayres,
May thence returne amazd, and tell the Story
Of Brittains Triumph, in great Charles his Glory.

70. A Riddle.

The Goods we spend we keepe; and what we save,
We lose; and only what we lose, we have.

71. On Glorioso .

Nere vaunt, Glorioso, that thou oft reliev'st
The poore; Glorioso, tis not thine, thou giv'st:
Boast what's thy own; Thou art the poor mans Sive;
Thy wealth was giv'n thee, with a Clause, to give;
Put case it were thy owne thou gav'st; what then?
Thy owne Applause hath paid thy own agen.

72. On Ivdas .

Two hundred pence! What's that to thee? But say
That so much Oyntment had beene cast away;
The coyne that paid for't, Iudas, was not thine;
O Iudas, that's the cause thou didst repine.

73. On Impropriator .

Lord, how he swells! as if he had, at least,
A Common-wéath reposed in his brest:
A Common-wealth? Twas shrewdly guest, I tell ye;
He has a Leash of Churches in his Belly.

74. On the same.

[Prodigious Stomacke! what a cruell deale]

Prodigious Stomacke! what a cruell deale
It can devoure! whole Churches at a meale:
'Tis very strange that Nature should deliver
So good a Stomacke to so bad a Liver.

75. On Lvcro .

Lvcro , it is beleev'd, thy Conscience, either
Is very wide, or made of stretching leather:
Me thinkes thy Conscience rather seemes too small;
So farre from large, I feare th'ast none at all.

76. To God .

If thou shouldst strike a blow for every slipp
That mortalls make, or spurre for every tripp,
Within a moments space, here would be found
No place left free t'inflict an other wound:
Hackneys and spur-gall'd Iades would happier be,
And in condition, better farre, then Wee.

77. On Sleepe and Death.

It is receiv'd, that Sleep's the elder brother;
I see no reason for't: I thinke, the other:
Though Sleepe does now vsurp the upper hand,
I'm sure that death do's sweepe away the Land.

78. To Rhemvs .

Thy Conscience tels thee, that to make debate
Twixt Prince and People; to subvert a State;
To violate a Truce; to murther Kings
Are lawfull; nay, are meritorious things:
Thou hast a Freedome more then we, wherein
To doe against thy Conscience, and not sin.

79. On Glorioso .

He that relieves his brother in distresse,
And seeks no vaine Applause, do's nothing lesse
Then lend to his Redeemer, laying downe
A worthlesse Counter, to take up a Crowne:
But if vain-glory prompt thy tongue to boast,
It is not lent, Glorioso; 'Tis but lost.

80. To God .

I wonder, Lord, thou shouldst so much desire
Our yonger dayes, when as the greene-wood fire
Of feeble Nature is but newly blowne;
When ev'ry Roome's unfurnisht; and not one
Fit for the presence of so great a Guest;
None trim'd with Art; no, not so much as drest
With common sense; when as th'vnburnisht print
Of thy faire Image, taken from the Mint
But now, has not the least imbellishment
Of heav'nly knowledge: Lord, what hast thou ment,
To make such choyce, to choose a time so ill,
When we have neither meanes, nor yet a will
To entertaine? Would not our deeper Age,
Wherein the Toyes of Child-hood, and the rage,
The fire of lustfull Youth shall be abated,
Wherein our riper Soules shall be estated
In richer Knowledge, and the strength of Reason;
O might not, might not this bin thought a season,
A time more aptly chosen of the twaine,
For thee to come; and us, to entertaine?
No thou, great God, that art our wise Creator,
Wert better read in our rebellious Nature:
Thou knewst the Bow of our corrupted will
Stood bent to mischiefe, would be drawne to ill
By every Arme; Thou knewst that every hower
Gave new encrease to strength, and double power
To draw those sinfull Shafts that shoot at heaven;
Thou knewst our easie Nature would be driven
By ev'ry Breath, and that our thoughts would fall
From bad to worse; from worse, to worst of all;
Thou knewst that growing Time wold more unlevel
Our rugged Wills, and tookst the best of evill:
Lord, take it, and betimes; that, being possest
Of that, thou mayst prescribe for all the rest.

81. On Partio .

Thou sayst thy will is good, and glory'st in it,
And yet forgetst thy Maker ev'ry minit:
Say Partio, was there ever Will allow'd
When the Testators mem'ry was not good?

82. On an evill Conscience.

What hells of Horror, an evill Conscience brings!
What strange Chimera's! what prodigious things!
A pregnant womb of wonders! Ev'ry minit
We Sin; but least, when most we sin agin it.

83. To Mvndano .

Nere thinke, Mundano, that one Roome will hold
Thy God, and all thy gold;
If ere they chance to meete within a heart,
They'l either fight, or part;
So long as Earth seemes glorious in thine eyes,
Thy thoughts can never rise;
Beleev't, Mundano, by how much more neare
Thou getst to Heav'n, the lesse will earth appeare.

84. To my Friend.

Woldst thou be prosp'rous, tho the bended brow
Of Fortune threaten thee? Ile teach thee how:
Call home thy dearest wishes, and recall
Thy hopes; Expect the worst that can befall:
If come; thy heart will be the more secure,
The lesse amaz'd, and abler to endure:
If it come not, Expectance is no losse;
Perchance it armes thee for another Crosse:
Thus wisely sheltred under this reliefe,
Thy Ioy shall be the lesse; and lesse, thy Griefe.

85. To Malfido .

Cheare up Malfido, Lay thy thoughts more level;
Make sure of Grace, and nere suspect thy Food:
He that is Good, can give a thing that's evill
No more, then thou, being evill, canst wish a good:
He better knowes to give, then thou, to begge;
Thou whin'st for Stones, and grumblest at an Egge:
O, let his better will suspend thy wish,
And thou shalt find no Scorpion; if, no Fish.

86. On Crvcio .

Thou stil complainst that sorrowes do attend thee,
And that their savours do so much annoy thee:
Mistake not; They are weapons, to defend thee;
They be not Engins, Crucio, to destroy theee:
Wilt thou mislike thy Cropps of swelling Corne,
Because th'are trencht, & fenc'd about with thorne?

87. To Rhemvs .

Tis true; we are but dust; but wormes; nay men,
That are more base then either; And what then?
Shall wormes, or dust, or men be well advis'd,
To goe in person (where we have despis'd)
Before a God, a glorious God? I, doe;
Who bids thee Come, will bid thee Welcome too:
Rhemus, when call'd in person, you appeare
By Proxy, tell me where's your manners, there?
'Tis better to be wisely bold, then make
Thy selfe unmannerly, for manners sake:
Some ill-bred Clownes there be, that, being loath
To foule a Napkin, draw a filthy Cloath.

88. To Macio .

Droope, not beneath thy wants, as if forlorne;
Thou must be made a Iewell, to be worne
In Abrams bosome: Macio, he that comes
To Abrams bosome, finds his way, by Crumms.

89. On Reproofe.

Tis not enough to strive agin the Act,
Or not to doe't; we must reprove the Fact
In others too; The Sin, being once made knowne
To us, if not reprov'd, becomes our owne:
We must disswade the Vice, we scorne to follow;
We must spit out, as well as never swallow.

90. On Cvrio .

Two Eares to let in Knowledge, Nature gave;
To entertaine true Faith, one heart we have;
Why so? Ile tell thee Curio, in briefe,
Our knowledge twice exceeds our halfe beliefe.

91. On Zelvstvs .

Zelustus thinks, his paines are worth his labour
If he love God, though he traduce his Neighbour;
His hot-mouth'd Zeale false-gallops on so fast
In the first Table 't tyers in the last:
Art thou a faithfull Steward of Gods store,
Zelustus, that spends Sixe, and keepst but Foure.

92. On Philavtos .

Philauto's Charity is like a Mouse
That keepes at home, and never leaves the house,
Till it be fir'd: It stirres for no mans cause,
Vnlesse to feed on Crumms of vaine Applause:
Take heed, Philautos, lest thou heed too late;
The Mouse, in time, will eate up thy Estate.

93. On Dvbivs .

Dvbius , Thy eares are two; Thy tongue but one;
Heare God and Priest; Confesse to God alone.

94. To Sir Ivlivs Cesar, Master of the Rolles.

The high Perfections, wherwith heav'n do's please
To crowne our transitory dayes, are these;
Goods well possest, and not possessing thee:
A faithfull Friend; equall in love, degree:
Lands fruitfull, and not conscious of a Curse:
A boastlesse hand; a Charitable purse:
A smiling Conscience; A contented Mind;
A sober knowledge, with true Wisedome, joynd;
A Brest, well temper'd; Dyet, without Art,
Surfeit, or want; A wisely-simple Heart;
Pastimes ingenious, lawfull, manly, sparing;
A Spirit not contentious rash, but daring:
A Body healthfull, sound, and fit for labour;
A House well order'd; and an equall Neighbour:
A prudent wife, and constant to the roofe;
Sober, but yet not sad, and faire enough;
Sleepe seasonable, moderate, and secure;
Actions heroicke, constant, blamelesse, pure;
A Life, as long as faire; and when expir'd,
A glorious Death, unfear'd, as undesir'd.

95. On Lvcro .

Lvcro , how poor thy Tyrant-wealth has made thee!
How miserable poore! It has betrayd thee
To thy owne seeming selfe; And it is growne
As little, thine, or lesse then thou, thy owne:
Alas, poore Lucro, how thy fruitfull pawnes
Abuse thy Stomacke, that so often yawnes
For a good Morsell, whilst thy Saint does rome,
Like a Decoy, t'entice evill Angels home,
Whose more imperious presence must controule
And fright the peace of thy perplexed Soule!
Lucro, be slave no longer to thy Pelfe;
Subdue thy Gold, and make thy selfe, thy selfe:
But if thy Saint be growne too strong for thee,
Ile tell thee Lucro; Turne thy Saint to me.

96. On Mendax.

Faire-spoken Mendax, on the least occasion,
Sweares by his Faith, and by his owne Salvation;
Is rash-brayne Mendax, well advised, then,
To pawne his Faith in God, for Faith with Men?
Sure, small's thy Wit or Credit, to be drawne
For Wares so poore, to leave so great a Pawne.

97. On Blandvs .

When ere I wish my Blandus a Good morrow,
He is my Servant: If I come to borrow,
Or but salute my Blandus passing by,
I am your Servant, Blandus does reply:
If court my Blandus, I must understand,
He is my Servant, and does kisse my hand:
Discourse with Blandus, ev'ry Clause shall be
I am your Servant: If he drinke to mee
My Servant does it; I returne his Love,
My Servant pledges: If my lips doe move
A Suit, he is my Servant; Though I doe
Abuse my Blandus, hee's my Servant too:
How blest am I, his service should be such
To me! He never told his God so much:
How much, dear Blandus, hast thou bound me thine,
That art his Servant, not so much, as mine!

98. On Rebellio.

The stout Rebellio, scourged by his God,
Slights his Correction, and nere ownes the Rod;
Take heed, Rebellio; Be not stout too long;
Neglected Stripes doe oft returne more strong;
A stubborne Silence more ill nature showes,
Then Sobbs of Stomack, and deserves more blowes.

99. On God and Gold.

My God and Gold cannot possesse one heart:
My God and I; or Gold and I must part.

100. To Iames Archbishop of Armagh.

Renowned Prelate, I nor know nor care
What secret vertue's in Saint Patricks Chayre;
If any; I dare boldly say, 'tis more
Since thou satst there, then ere it was before:
Goe on, great Patriarck; If thy higher Story
(As sure it will) shall drowne S. Patricks Glory:
Iberia will, (as now Iberia vaunts)
Be knowne, as well as cal'd, The Isle of Saints.

101. On a waking Conscience.

There is a kind of Conscience some men keepe,
Is like a Member that's benumb'd with sleepe;
Which, as it gathers Blood, and wakes agen,
It shoots, and pricks, and feeles as bigg as ten.

102. On our Affections.

O how prepostrous our Affections burne!
We serve the world; love God, to serve our turn.

103. On Zelvstvs .

Zelustus weares his cloathes, as he were clod
To frighten Crowes, and not to serve his God;
As if the Symptomes of Regeneration
Were nothing but a Christian out of Fashion.

104. On Rebellio .

What? ever whining? Evermore alike,
Both when heav'n strikes & when he leaves to strike?
Not stroke thy stomacke downe, when as thy God
Is friends with thee, and throwne aside the Rod?
Take heed, Rebellio, heaven doe not replye
Vpon thy Sobbs, and hee that made thee crye
For thy owne Good, reward not thy repining
With a new Rod, & scourge thee worse for whining.

105. On Zelvstvs .

Not thy Geneva Ruffe, nor steeple Hat
With flagging Eaves, or Cepresse out of date,
Thy nock-shorn Cloake, with a round narrow Cape;
Thy Russet hose crosse-garterd with a Tape;
Thy Antick Habit, of the old Translation,
Made for the purpose in despight of Fashion;
Tis none of these, Zelustus, that can bring
Thy Zeale in credit; none of these can wring
The least applause from heav'n: Heav'n never ment
A Christians Conscience should be bound or bent
To shapes; Zelustus, we can scarce divide
An Affectation from a secret Pride.

106. On Conscio .

Art thou revil'd, and slandred? and yet whine?
I feare th'art guilty: Is that heart of thine
So faint (if guiltles) that it cannot stoope
Beneath so poore a Burthen, and not droope?
He that has fire at home may well refraine
To blow his fingers, Conscio, or complaine
The weather's cold abroad: Make sure within,
And let them censure, let them snarle agin:
Thou mayst appeare, but not be this, the worse;
If Conscience blesse thee, Doe, let Shemei curse.

107. To God .

Thy sacred will be done, great God,
To spend, or to suspend thy Rod:
If possible, my will's to misse it;
If otherwise, to stoope, and kisse it.

108. On Devotion.

VVe must not only be to God, but show
To Man; Pauls Cloak must be remēbred too.

109. On the Christian.

Tis not enough that the Kings Daughter should
Be faire within; She must be clad in Gold;
The curious Needle cloathes her whiter skin;
Shee's rich without, and glorious all within:
The true borne Christian, must, as well, be clod
With lives to men, as lin'd with hearts to God.

110. On Mercy and Iustice.

Gods Mercy and his Iustice is the same;
Tis but the Object that divides the Name.

111. On Avlicvs .

Before that Aulicus was made a Lord,
He was my Friend; we might exchange a word,
As well as hearts; He could be never weary
Of my society; was jocund, merry;
Ingenious, and as jealous to offend;
He was enjoyd; He could enjoy his friend:
But now he swells, looks bigg; his Favours change,
As well as Fortunes: Now his eyes are strange:
His thoughts are Councels, curious webs of State;
And all his Actions must be wonder'd at;
His Speeches must be Lawes, and every word
An Oracle, to be admir'd, ador'd:
Frendship must now be service; A new mold
Must have new Matter, melted from the old:
O Aulicus, 'twere well, if, thou couldst doe
The very same in spirituall honour too.

112. To Rhemvs .

Faith must be joynd to works: Rhemus, I wonder,
What God has joyn'd, thou dar'st presume to sunder!

113. On Tortvs .

Tis not the bearing of the Crosse, or Cup
Of thy Affliction; Thou must take them up:
Nor ist the taking up, alone, will doe;
Tortus, thou must take up, and follow too.

114. On Gracchvs .

Gracchus so often did repeat a Lye,
Past on, with Credit, from his very youth,
That now his Conscience has forborne to crye
Against it, and perswades him 'tis a Truth:
Tis well for Gracchus; He has gaind thereby:
He now may tell the same, and never lye.

115. On Phares .

Thou sayst, it is a Supper, and is fit
To use the Posture of a Meale, to sit:
Can thy Discretion, Phares, or thy Zeale
Give carnall Gestures to a sp'rituall Meale?
A heav'nly Supper and a fleshly Heart?
Thy Posture has discover'd what thou art.

116. On the same.

[You'l take it sitting: Pray; and no man know it]

You'l take it sitting: Pray; and no man know it;
You'l doe, and yet you will not seeme to doe it:
You'l bow your Heart, although you bend no Knee;
Tis like your Selfe; You seeme, not what you bee.

117. To my Booke .