Midnights Meditations of Death With Pious and Profitable Observations, and Consolations [by Edward Buckler]: Perused by Francis Quarles A little before his Death |
 |
|
| I. | Part I. Of Deaths certainty.
|
 | II. |
| III. |
 | Midnights Meditations of Death |  |
I. Part I. Of Deaths certainty.
In heav'ns high Parliament an act is pass'd,
Subscrib'd by that eternall Three in One,
That each created wight must one day tast
Of Deaths grim terrours: They exempted none
That sprang from Adam. All that red-earth-strain
Must to their earth again.
Subscrib'd by that eternall Three in One,
That each created wight must one day tast
Of Deaths grim terrours: They exempted none
That sprang from Adam. All that red-earth-strain
Must to their earth again.
An ancient Register of burialls lies
In Genesis, to let us understand
That whosoever is begotten dies,
And every sort is under Deaths command.
His Empire's large: Rich, poore, old, young, and all
Must go when he doth call.
In Genesis, to let us understand
That whosoever is begotten dies,
And every sort is under Deaths command.
His Empire's large: Rich, poore, old, young, and all
Must go when he doth call.
Mans life's book: and some of them are bound
Handsome and richly; some but meanly clad:
And for their matter, some of them are found
Learned and pious: others are too bad
For vilest fires: Both have their end.
There's a conclusion penn'd
Handsome and richly; some but meanly clad:
And for their matter, some of them are found
Learned and pious: others are too bad
For vilest fires: Both have their end.
There's a conclusion penn'd
As well as title-page; that's infancy,
The matter; that's the whole course of our lives.
One's Satans servant walking wickedly;
Another's pious, and in goodnesse thrives;
One's beggerly, another's rich and brave:
Both drop into the grave,
The matter; that's the whole course of our lives.
One's Satans servant walking wickedly;
Another's pious, and in goodnesse thrives;
One's beggerly, another's rich and brave:
Both drop into the grave,
One man (a book in folio) lives till age
Hath made him crooked and put out his eyes:
His beard doth penance. And death in a rage
Mows down another whilst the infant cries
In's midwives lap: (that's an Epitome)
Both wear deaths liverie.
Hath made him crooked and put out his eyes:
His beard doth penance. And death in a rage
Mows down another whilst the infant cries
In's midwives lap: (that's an Epitome)
Both wear deaths liverie.
God made not death: Whence are we mortall then?
Sure Sinne's parent of this pale-fac'd foe;
Nought else did hatch it: and the first of men
He was Deaths grandfather: And all the wo
That in this or the next life we are in
Is caused by our sinne.
Sure Sinne's parent of this pale-fac'd foe;
Nought else did hatch it: and the first of men
He was Deaths grandfather: And all the wo
That in this or the next life we are in
Is caused by our sinne.
Meditation 1.
If I must dye, I'll catch at every thing
That may but mind me of my latest breath.
Deaths-heads, graves, knells, blacks, tombs, all these shall bring
Into my soul such usefull thoughts of death,
That this sable King of fears,
Though in chiefest of my health
He behind me come by stealth,
Shall not catch me unawares.
That may but mind me of my latest breath.
Deaths-heads, graves, knells, blacks, tombs, all these shall bring
Into my soul such usefull thoughts of death,
That this sable King of fears,
Though in chiefest of my health
He behind me come by stealth,
Shall not catch me unawares.
When-e're I visit any dying friend,
Each sigh and scrich, and every death-bed-grone
Shall reade me such a lecture of mine end,
That I'll suppose his case will be mine own.
As this poore man here doth lie
Rack'd all o're with deadly pain,
Never like to rise again,
Time will come when so must I.
Each sigh and scrich, and every death-bed-grone
Shall reade me such a lecture of mine end,
That I'll suppose his case will be mine own.
As this poore man here doth lie
Rack'd all o're with deadly pain,
Never like to rise again,
Time will come when so must I.
Thus ghastly shall I look, thus every part
Of me shall suffer, thus my lips shall shrivel,
My teeth shall grin, and thus my drooping heart
Shall smoke out sighs and grones; and all the evil
Which I see this man lye under,
What sinne earns and death doth pay,
I shall feel another day.
Sinne from torment who can sunder?
Of me shall suffer, thus my lips shall shrivel,
My teeth shall grin, and thus my drooping heart
Shall smoke out sighs and grones; and all the evil
Which I see this man lye under,
What sinne earns and death doth pay,
I shall feel another day.
Sinne from torment who can sunder?
Thus will my mournfull friends about me come:
My livelesse carcase shall be stretched out.
I must be packing to my longest home:
Thus will the mourners walk the streets about.
Thus for me the bells will toll:
Thus must I bid all adieu,
World, and wife, and children too:
Thus must I breathe out my soul.
My livelesse carcase shall be stretched out.
I must be packing to my longest home:
Thus will the mourners walk the streets about.
Thus for me the bells will toll:
Thus must I bid all adieu,
World, and wife, and children too:
Thus must I breathe out my soul.
At others fun'ralls when I see a grave,
That grave shall mind me of mortalitie.
I'll think that such a lodging I must have:
Thus in the pit my bones must scattered lie;
Here one bone and there another,
Here my ribs, and there my scull,
And my mouth of earth be full.
I must call the worms my mother.
That grave shall mind me of mortalitie.
I'll think that such a lodging I must have:
Thus in the pit my bones must scattered lie;
Here one bone and there another,
Here my ribs, and there my scull,
And my mouth of earth be full.
I must call the worms my mother.
When I do look abroad, methinks I see
A fun'rall Sermon penn'd in every thing.
Each creature speaks me mortall: Yonder tree,
Which, not a quarter since, the glorious spring
Had most proudly cloth'd in green,
And was tall, and young, and strong,
Now the ax hath laid along:
Nothing but his stump is seen.
A fun'rall Sermon penn'd in every thing.
Each creature speaks me mortall: Yonder tree,
Which, not a quarter since, the glorious spring
Had most proudly cloth'd in green,
And was tall, and young, and strong,
Now the ax hath laid along:
Nothing but his stump is seen.
And yonder fruitfull valleys yesternight
Did laugh and sing, they stood so thick with corn:
In was the sickle, and 'twas cut down quite,
And not a sheaf will stand to morrow morn.
Yonder beauteous imps of May,
Pretty eye-delighting flowers,
Whose face heav'n doth wash with showers
To put on their best aray:
Did laugh and sing, they stood so thick with corn:
In was the sickle, and 'twas cut down quite,
And not a sheaf will stand to morrow morn.
Yonder beauteous imps of May,
Pretty eye-delighting flowers,
Whose face heav'n doth wash with showers
To put on their best aray:
I saw the fair'st, the Lily, and Carnation,
And coy Adonis particoloured sonne,
Subject to such a sudden alteration
That in a day their fading beauty's gone.
This tree, this corn, and this flower,
Or what things else vainest are,
To my self I do compare,
Who may die within this houre.
And coy Adonis particoloured sonne,
Subject to such a sudden alteration
That in a day their fading beauty's gone.
This tree, this corn, and this flower,
Or what things else vainest are,
To my self I do compare,
Who may die within this houre.
Meditation 2.
I'll ne'r be proud of beauty if I must
Be blemish'd when I die: And if the grave
Will mix my beauty with the vilest dust,
What profits pride? Reader, I'll pardon crave
Here to set you down a story
Of as rare and fair a She
As the Sunne did ever see,
Whom Death robb'd of all her glory.
Be blemish'd when I die: And if the grave
Will mix my beauty with the vilest dust,
What profits pride? Reader, I'll pardon crave
Here to set you down a story
Of as rare and fair a She
As the Sunne did ever see,
Whom Death robb'd of all her glory.
I once saw Phœbus in his mid-day shine
Triumphing like the Sovereigne of the skies,
Untill two brighter rayes, both more divine,
Outblazed his: and they were this Nymphs eyes.
Forthwith Sol curtain'd his light,
Looking very red for shame
To be vanquish'd by this Dame,
And did slink out of her sight.
Triumphing like the Sovereigne of the skies,
Untill two brighter rayes, both more divine,
Outblazed his: and they were this Nymphs eyes.
Forthwith Sol curtain'd his light,
Looking very red for shame
To be vanquish'd by this Dame,
And did slink out of her sight.
I once saw silver Cynthia, nights fair Queen,
In her full orb dimming each lesser flame,
Till this Nymphs beauty-vying front was seen
Outshining hers: then she look'd wan for shame.
The man in her, knew he how
But to quit that giddy place,
She had so divine a face,
Would have dwelt upon her brow.
In her full orb dimming each lesser flame,
Till this Nymphs beauty-vying front was seen
Outshining hers: then she look'd wan for shame.
The man in her, knew he how
But to quit that giddy place,
She had so divine a face,
Would have dwelt upon her brow.
Once was this woman pleas'd to walk the fields
Then proudly fragrant with Dame Flora's store:
The damask rose unto her beauty yields,
And was contented to be fair no more.
Sure I cannot say how truly,
Yet 'mongst many 't was a fame,
That the rose did blush for shame,
And the violet look'd most bluly.
Then proudly fragrant with Dame Flora's store:
The damask rose unto her beauty yields,
And was contented to be fair no more.
Sure I cannot say how truly,
Yet 'mongst many 't was a fame,
That the rose did blush for shame,
And the violet look'd most bluly.
Once did this woman to the temple go,
Where doth fair Venus marble-statue lie
Cut to the life, that one can hardly know
But that it lives indeed: When she came nigh,
He who then the temple kept
After would be often telling
She was so super-excelling
That for mad the marble wept.
Where doth fair Venus marble-statue lie
Cut to the life, that one can hardly know
But that it lives indeed: When she came nigh,
He who then the temple kept
After would be often telling
She was so super-excelling
That for mad the marble wept.
Melodious musick's warbled by the spheres;
Swans sing their Epitaphs in curious layes,
Once with a singing Swan a part she bears:
As soon's those corall doores dismiss'd her voice,
The poore Swan held his peace and di'd:
And the spheres (as men do say)
Dumbly move unto this day.
This was by a rivers side.
Swans sing their Epitaphs in curious layes,
Once with a singing Swan a part she bears:
As soon's those corall doores dismiss'd her voice,
The poore Swan held his peace and di'd:
And the spheres (as men do say)
Dumbly move unto this day.
This was by a rivers side.
What think you now of such a glorious woman?
This Phœnix sure was she, if any might,
That might be proud: And yet the tongue of no man
Can well expresse, nor any pen can write
What grim death hath done unto her;
Now she's of another feature,
Hardly can you know the creature:
Stay a while, and we will view her.
This Phœnix sure was she, if any might,
That might be proud: And yet the tongue of no man
Can well expresse, nor any pen can write
What grim death hath done unto her;
Now she's of another feature,
Hardly can you know the creature:
Stay a while, and we will view her.
Th'almighty King that dwells above in heaven
Directs to's high Shrieve Death a certain writ,
Wherein a strait imperiall charge was given,
At's utmost peril forthwith on sight of it
To arrest that piece of beauty
And to wrap her up in clay
'Gainst the last great judgement-day.
Death address'd him to his duty;
Directs to's high Shrieve Death a certain writ,
Wherein a strait imperiall charge was given,
At's utmost peril forthwith on sight of it
To arrest that piece of beauty
And to wrap her up in clay
'Gainst the last great judgement-day.
Death address'd him to his duty;
And with great care gives warrant by and by
Unto his baillifs, Fever, Pox, and Gout,
Phrensie, Strangury, Colick, Squinancy,
Consumption, Dropsie, and an ugly rout
Beside these, for to assail her:
Deaths command was, that they must
Tie her fast in chains of dust:
He gave charge that none should bail her.
Unto his baillifs, Fever, Pox, and Gout,
Phrensie, Strangury, Colick, Squinancy,
Consumption, Dropsie, and an ugly rout
Beside these, for to assail her:
Deaths command was, that they must
Tie her fast in chains of dust:
He gave charge that none should bail her.
You would not think with what a furious pace
These catchpoles flie to pull this creature down:
But Pox was nimblest; she got to her face
And plow'd it up. This hag goes in a gown
Rugged and of colour tawny,
Button'd o're from top to toe;
(Skin-deep beauties deadly foe)
Uglier hag was never any.
These catchpoles flie to pull this creature down:
But Pox was nimblest; she got to her face
And plow'd it up. This hag goes in a gown
Rugged and of colour tawny,
Button'd o're from top to toe;
(Skin-deep beauties deadly foe)
Uglier hag was never any.
Fain would the rest have fastned on her too,
But that this hag had frighted out her soul.
Now looks her carcase of another hue,
Grim, ugly, lothsome, ghastly, and as foul
As did ever eye look on.
What's become of that complexion
Which held all hearts in subjection?
In a moment all is gone.
But that this hag had frighted out her soul.
Now looks her carcase of another hue,
Grim, ugly, lothsome, ghastly, and as foul
As did ever eye look on.
What's become of that complexion
Which held all hearts in subjection?
In a moment all is gone.
If we might be so bold to dig the grave
Some few years hence where this good woman lies,
Sure we should find this beauty but a slave
To pallid putrefaction, and a prize
For those silly vermine worms:
As they crawl in stinking swarms
She doth hug them in her arms,
And doth give them suck by turns.
Some few years hence where this good woman lies,
Sure we should find this beauty but a slave
To pallid putrefaction, and a prize
For those silly vermine worms:
As they crawl in stinking swarms
She doth hug them in her arms,
And doth give them suck by turns.
Here's a deformed lump indeed: and this
Must be the fortune of the fairest face.
None then are proud but fools: They love amisse
Whose hearts are chain'd to any thing but grace.
From the beauty of the skin
In the loveliest outward part,
Lord, vouchsafe to turn my heart
To love that which is within.
Must be the fortune of the fairest face.
None then are proud but fools: They love amisse
Whose hearts are chain'd to any thing but grace.
From the beauty of the skin
In the loveliest outward part,
Lord, vouchsafe to turn my heart
To love that which is within.
Meditation 3.
If Death will come, sure there will come an end
Of all this worlds deep-biting misery.
Nothing adverse that's here on earth doth tend
Beyond the grave: that's a delivery
From the pow'r of men and devils,
And what-ever other wo
May befall us here below
Death's a shelter from all evils.
Of all this worlds deep-biting misery.
Nothing adverse that's here on earth doth tend
Beyond the grave: that's a delivery
From the pow'r of men and devils,
And what-ever other wo
May befall us here below
Death's a shelter from all evils.
Here I am poore: my daily drops of sweat
Will not maintein my full-stock'd family:
A dozen hungry children crie for meat,
And I have none; nor will words fatisfie.
Could I give their belly ears,
'T were a comfort, or could fill
Hungry stomacks with good will,
Or make daily bread of tears.
Will not maintein my full-stock'd family:
A dozen hungry children crie for meat,
And I have none; nor will words fatisfie.
Could I give their belly ears,
'T were a comfort, or could fill
Hungry stomacks with good will,
Or make daily bread of tears.
Here the oppressour with his griping claws
Sits on my skirts: my racking land-lord rears
Both rent and fine; with potent looks he aws
Me from mine own. Scarce any man but bears
In his bosome Ahabs heart.
Horse-leach-like that's ever craving
Other mens, and sick of having,
Right or wrong, will catch a part.
Sits on my skirts: my racking land-lord rears
Both rent and fine; with potent looks he aws
Me from mine own. Scarce any man but bears
In his bosome Ahabs heart.
Horse-leach-like that's ever craving
Other mens, and sick of having,
Right or wrong, will catch a part.
Here in these clay-built houses sicknesse reigns:
I have more maladies then I can name:
Each member of my body hath its pains.
Moreover, weeping, groning, sadnesse, shame,
Slanders, melancholy, fear,
Discontents, disgraces, losses,
And a thousand other crosses
Must be born if I live here.
I have more maladies then I can name:
Each member of my body hath its pains.
Moreover, weeping, groning, sadnesse, shame,
Slanders, melancholy, fear,
Discontents, disgraces, losses,
And a thousand other crosses
Must be born if I live here.
But these are finite all. When I am dead
My poverty is ended and my care:
I heare my famish'd children crie for bread
No longer. Then I drink, I lodge, I fare
Just as well as Cæsar doth:
There ends cold and nakednesse,
All my former wretchednesse.
Death is meat, and drink, and cloth.
My poverty is ended and my care:
I heare my famish'd children crie for bread
No longer. Then I drink, I lodge, I fare
Just as well as Cæsar doth:
There ends cold and nakednesse,
All my former wretchednesse.
Death is meat, and drink, and cloth.
There's no face-grinding: There the mighty cease
From troubling; there the weary be at rest:
The servant's freed; the pris'ner is at ease:
All's still and quiet; no man is oppress'd:
For incroachers there are none.
Not a poore man's wronged, nor
Is his vineyard longed for:
Every man may keep his own.
From troubling; there the weary be at rest:
The servant's freed; the pris'ner is at ease:
All's still and quiet; no man is oppress'd:
For incroachers there are none.
Not a poore man's wronged, nor
Is his vineyard longed for:
Every man may keep his own.
Sicknesse there's none: when-ever Death shall take
My body hence and lodge it in the clay,
I shall not feel a tooth or finger ake,
Nor any other misery that may
In the least degree displease me.
For all sores the grave hath plasters,
And it cureth all disasters:
Of all burdens Death will ease me.
My body hence and lodge it in the clay,
I shall not feel a tooth or finger ake,
Nor any other misery that may
In the least degree displease me.
For all sores the grave hath plasters,
And it cureth all disasters:
Of all burdens Death will ease me.
Malicious tongues fired below in hell
There will not hurt me; nor the poisonous breath
Of whispering detractours: I shall dwell
Securely in the dust. One stroke of Death
Sets me out of gun-shot quite;
Not the deepest-piercing tongue
Can there do me any wrong:
Bark they may, but cannot bite.
There will not hurt me; nor the poisonous breath
Of whispering detractours: I shall dwell
Securely in the dust. One stroke of Death
Sets me out of gun-shot quite;
Not the deepest-piercing tongue
Can there do me any wrong:
Bark they may, but cannot bite.
Lord, I am thine: and if it be thy will,
While I do live a stranger here below,
Brim-high with bitternesse my cup to fill,
And make me drink't; yet, Lord, withall bestow
But thy grace, and thou shalt see me
Patient: and my comfort's this,
That a short affliction 't is:
In a moment Death may free me.
While I do live a stranger here below,
Brim-high with bitternesse my cup to fill,
And make me drink't; yet, Lord, withall bestow
But thy grace, and thou shalt see me
Patient: and my comfort's this,
That a short affliction 't is:
In a moment Death may free me.
Meditation 4.
If I must die, it must be my endeavour
So to provide that every thought of Death
May be a thought of comfort: that when-ever
That aged sire shall take away my breath,
I may willingly lay down
This old house that's made of clay,
Gladly welcoming the day
That brings an eternall crown.
So to provide that every thought of Death
May be a thought of comfort: that when-ever
That aged sire shall take away my breath,
I may willingly lay down
This old house that's made of clay,
Gladly welcoming the day
That brings an eternall crown.
But of all things a holy life's the way
Must lead me to a comfortable end;
To crucifie my lusts, and to obey
Gods sacred will in all things: This doth tend
Unto comfort, joy and ease.
Mark the man that is upright,
And sets God alwayes in's sight,
That mans end is ever peace.
Must lead me to a comfortable end;
To crucifie my lusts, and to obey
Gods sacred will in all things: This doth tend
Unto comfort, joy and ease.
Mark the man that is upright,
And sets God alwayes in's sight,
That mans end is ever peace.
What makes me fear a serpent? 't is his sting;
The mischief's there: When that is taken out,
I can look on him as a harmlesse thing,
And in my bosome carry him about.
What makes Death look rufully?
Not Deaths self: it is his sting
That doth fear and horrour bring,
And makes men so loth to die.
The mischief's there: When that is taken out,
I can look on him as a harmlesse thing,
And in my bosome carry him about.
What makes Death look rufully?
Not Deaths self: it is his sting
That doth fear and horrour bring,
And makes men so loth to die.
The sting of death is sinne: but there's a Jesus
Hath pluck'd it out. The guilt's done quite away;
The stain is wash'd. He sent his Spirit to ease us
In some good measure of that kingly sway
Which o're us sinne held before.
Blessed work of grace! now I
Strongest lusts can mortifie:
In my soul sinne reigns no more.
Hath pluck'd it out. The guilt's done quite away;
The stain is wash'd. He sent his Spirit to ease us
In some good measure of that kingly sway
Which o're us sinne held before.
Blessed work of grace! now I
Strongest lusts can mortifie:
In my soul sinne reigns no more.
Now in me holinesse is wrought: which is
A pious disposition of the heart,
Inclining me to hate what's done amisse
In me and others, never to depart
From God to left hand or right,
Nor one of his laws to break;
But to think and do and speak
What's well-pleasing in his sight.
A pious disposition of the heart,
Inclining me to hate what's done amisse
In me and others, never to depart
From God to left hand or right,
Nor one of his laws to break;
But to think and do and speak
What's well-pleasing in his sight.
Each act from faith and love ariseth, and
The end I aim at is my Makers praise;
His word's my rule: my warrant's his command.
Thus am I fitted: Death, cut off my dayes,
If thou wilt, within this houre,
I will thank thee for thy pain:
For to me to die is gain.
I'll not fear a jote thy power.
The end I aim at is my Makers praise;
His word's my rule: my warrant's his command.
Thus am I fitted: Death, cut off my dayes,
If thou wilt, within this houre,
I will thank thee for thy pain:
For to me to die is gain.
I'll not fear a jote thy power.
What canst thou do that justly may affright me?
Though with thee in the dark I dwell a space,
Yet canst thou not eternally benight me:
Thou art my passage to a glorious place,
Where shall not be any night.
My rais'd ashes shall enjoy
There an everlasting day,
And an uneclipsed light.
Though with thee in the dark I dwell a space,
Yet canst thou not eternally benight me:
Thou art my passage to a glorious place,
Where shall not be any night.
My rais'd ashes shall enjoy
There an everlasting day,
And an uneclipsed light.
I fear not death because of putrefaction,
Nor (if I might) would willingly decline it:
My body gains by 't; 't is the graves best action:
God, as a founder, melts it to refine it.
Death cannot annihilate,
And in despite of the grave,
Yet I shall a body have,
Fairer and in better state.
Nor (if I might) would willingly decline it:
My body gains by 't; 't is the graves best action:
God, as a founder, melts it to refine it.
Death cannot annihilate,
And in despite of the grave,
Yet I shall a body have,
Fairer and in better state.
Gods second work excells his first by ods:
Our second birth, life, Adam, to repair
Our bodies, is a second work of Gods,
To make them better then at first they were,
Glorious, immortall, sound,
Nimble, beautifull, and so
Splendid that from top to toe
Not a blemish may be found.
Our second birth, life, Adam, to repair
Our bodies, is a second work of Gods,
To make them better then at first they were,
Glorious, immortall, sound,
Nimble, beautifull, and so
Splendid that from top to toe
Not a blemish may be found.
What begger weeps when's rags are thrown away
To put on better clothes? Who is 't will grieve
To pull a rotten house down, that it may
Be fairer built? Why should we not receive
Death with both hands when he comes
To pull off those rags that hide us,
To unhouse us, and provide us
Richer clothes and better homes?
To put on better clothes? Who is 't will grieve
To pull a rotten house down, that it may
Be fairer built? Why should we not receive
Death with both hands when he comes
To pull off those rags that hide us,
To unhouse us, and provide us
Richer clothes and better homes?
The griping pangs of Death do not affright
My heart at all: I have deserved mo.
And if upon no other terms I might
Enjoy my God, I to my God would go
Through hells self, although a throng
Of an hundred thousand juries
Of the black'st infernall Furies
Claw'd me as I went along.
My heart at all: I have deserved mo.
And if upon no other terms I might
Enjoy my God, I to my God would go
Through hells self, although a throng
Of an hundred thousand juries
Of the black'st infernall Furies
Claw'd me as I went along.
Nor can those inward terrours make me quake
Which Death-beds often on the soul do bring.
I have no Death-bed-reck'nings for to make;
'T was made while I was well, and every thing
Was dispatch'd before, that I
Nothing in the world now, save
Home-desiring longings, have
Then to do but just to die.
Which Death-beds often on the soul do bring.
I have no Death-bed-reck'nings for to make;
'T was made while I was well, and every thing
Was dispatch'd before, that I
Nothing in the world now, save
Home-desiring longings, have
Then to do but just to die.
Nor doth it trouble me that Death will take me
From those delights that are enjoy'd below.
Alas, I know that none of them can make me
One jote the happier man, nor can bestow
Any comfort, Carnall gladnesse,
Mirth, delight and jollity,
This worlds best felicitie,
All is vanity and madnesse;
From those delights that are enjoy'd below.
Alas, I know that none of them can make me
One jote the happier man, nor can bestow
Any comfort, Carnall gladnesse,
Mirth, delight and jollity,
This worlds best felicitie,
All is vanity and madnesse;
Mere empty husks. Had I as many treasures
In my possession as the muddiest wretch
Did ever covet, and as many pleasures
As from the creature fleshly men can fetch;
Had I this: or if I were
Supreme Monarch, onely Lord
Of what earth and sea afford:
Yet I would not settle here.
In my possession as the muddiest wretch
Did ever covet, and as many pleasures
As from the creature fleshly men can fetch;
Had I this: or if I were
Supreme Monarch, onely Lord
Of what earth and sea afford:
Yet I would not settle here.
To be dissolv'd is better: Death doth bring
A fairer fortune then it takes away.
It sets us in a world where every thing
Is a happinesse, a full and solid joy,
Not to be conceiv'd before
We come thither: but the blisse
Which exceedeth all is this,
That there we shall sinne no more.
A fairer fortune then it takes away.
It sets us in a world where every thing
Is a happinesse, a full and solid joy,
Not to be conceiv'd before
We come thither: but the blisse
Which exceedeth all is this,
That there we shall sinne no more.
Lord, grant a copious portion of thy Spirit.
The more I have of that the lesse I fear
What Death can do; for sure I shall inherit
All joy in heaven if I am holy here:
Nought suits with heaven but sanctitie.
Let, my God, thy Spirit and grace
Fit me for that holy place
And that holy companie.
The more I have of that the lesse I fear
What Death can do; for sure I shall inherit
All joy in heaven if I am holy here:
Nought suits with heaven but sanctitie.
Let, my God, thy Spirit and grace
Fit me for that holy place
And that holy companie.
Meditation 5.
If Death will come, what do men mean to sinne
With so much greedinesse? me thinks I see
What a sad case the godlesse world is in,
How fast asleep in her securitie.
Fearlessely in sinne men live,
As if Death would never come,
Or there were no day of doom
When they must a reck'ning give.
With so much greedinesse? me thinks I see
What a sad case the godlesse world is in,
How fast asleep in her securitie.
Fearlessely in sinne men live,
As if Death would never come,
Or there were no day of doom
When they must a reck'ning give.
Observe a little yonder black-mouth'd swearer,
How's tongue with oathes and curses pelts the skies:
'T would grieve the heart of any pious hearer
But to bear witnesse of his blasphemies.
He darts wounds at God on high,
Puts on cursing as his clothes,
And doth wrap his tongue in oathes
To abuse Eternity.
How's tongue with oathes and curses pelts the skies:
'T would grieve the heart of any pious hearer
But to bear witnesse of his blasphemies.
He darts wounds at God on high,
Puts on cursing as his clothes,
And doth wrap his tongue in oathes
To abuse Eternity.
In lawlesse lust the fornicatour fries,
And longs to slake it 'twixt forbidden sheets:
Ne'r sets the sunne but his adulterous eyes
Observes the twilight, and his harlot meets.
That which follows, when the night
Draws its curtain o'r the air
To conceal this goatish pair,
Modesty forbids to write.
And longs to slake it 'twixt forbidden sheets:
Ne'r sets the sunne but his adulterous eyes
Observes the twilight, and his harlot meets.
That which follows, when the night
Draws its curtain o'r the air
To conceal this goatish pair,
Modesty forbids to write.
And I could shew you (were it worth the viewing)
In that room three or foure drunkards reeling:
In this, as many more that sweat with spewing;
Some that have drunk away their sense and feeling;
Men of all sorts in their wine
And their ale sit domineering,
Cursing, railing, roring, swearing,
Under every baser signe.
In that room three or foure drunkards reeling:
In this, as many more that sweat with spewing;
Some that have drunk away their sense and feeling;
Men of all sorts in their wine
And their ale sit domineering,
Cursing, railing, roring, swearing,
Under every baser signe.
'T is said (so vile is this big-belly'd sinne)
That in a day and lesse some foure or five
Of lustie drunken throats will swallow in
More then hath kept two families alive
A whole forthnight (yet made they
Merrie with 't.) Had I my wishes,
Such gulls should not drink like fishes;
But their throats should chāge their trade
That in a day and lesse some foure or five
Of lustie drunken throats will swallow in
More then hath kept two families alive
A whole forthnight (yet made they
Merrie with 't.) Had I my wishes,
Such gulls should not drink like fishes;
But their throats should chāge their trade
The covetous man with his usurious clutches
Doth catch and hold fast all the wealth he may:
He leans on 't as a creeple on his crutches.
The miser studies nothing night and day
But his gain: he's like a swine
Looking downward, like a mole
Blind, and of an earthen soul,
Minding nothing that's divine.
Doth catch and hold fast all the wealth he may:
He leans on 't as a creeple on his crutches.
The miser studies nothing night and day
But his gain: he's like a swine
Looking downward, like a mole
Blind, and of an earthen soul,
Minding nothing that's divine.
These, and beside these other sorts of sinners,
In every parish you may dayly see
As greedy at their sinnes as at their dinners,
And wallowing in all impiety.
Sure these miscreants do never
Entertein a thought of dying;
Nor yet are afraid of frying
In hell flames for altogether.
In every parish you may dayly see
As greedy at their sinnes as at their dinners,
And wallowing in all impiety.
Sure these miscreants do never
Entertein a thought of dying;
Nor yet are afraid of frying
In hell flames for altogether.
Thou God of spirits, be pleas'd to aw my heart
With death and judgement: that, when I would sinne,
I may remember that I must depart,
And whatsoe're condition I am in
When I sink under Deaths hand,
(There's no penance in the grave,
Nor then can I mercy have)
So must I in judgement stand.
With death and judgement: that, when I would sinne,
I may remember that I must depart,
And whatsoe're condition I am in
When I sink under Deaths hand,
(There's no penance in the grave,
Nor then can I mercy have)
So must I in judgement stand.
Meditation 6.
Lord, what a thief is Death! it robs us quite
Of all the world; great men, of all their honours;
Luxurious men, of all their fond delight;
Rich men, of all their money, farms and mannours.
Naked did the world find us,
And the world will leave us so:
We shall carrie when we go
Nothing, but leave all behind us.
Of all the world; great men, of all their honours;
Luxurious men, of all their fond delight;
Rich men, of all their money, farms and mannours.
Naked did the world find us,
And the world will leave us so:
We shall carrie when we go
Nothing, but leave all behind us.
Let Death do's worst, ambitious men do climb
By any sinne though it be ne're so foul:
Gold-thirsty misers swallow any crime
That brings gain with it, though it kill the soul.
Here for gain is over-reaching,
Cosening, cheating, lying, stealing,
Knavish and sinister dealing;
All arts of the devils teaching.
By any sinne though it be ne're so foul:
Gold-thirsty misers swallow any crime
That brings gain with it, though it kill the soul.
Here for gain is over-reaching,
Cosening, cheating, lying, stealing,
Knavish and sinister dealing;
All arts of the devils teaching.
Whilst I am well advis'd I'll never strive
T'increase my wealth, if 't will increase my sinne:
I will be rather poore then seek to thrive
By means unlawfull: all's not worth a pinne.
When mine eye-lids Death doth close,
What I sinned for must be
Shak'd hands with eternally,
But the sinne that with me goes.
T'increase my wealth, if 't will increase my sinne:
I will be rather poore then seek to thrive
By means unlawfull: all's not worth a pinne.
When mine eye-lids Death doth close,
What I sinned for must be
Shak'd hands with eternally,
But the sinne that with me goes.
I'll not wast love upon these lower things,
Nor on the choicest of them doting sit:
For when sad Death a habeas corpus brings,
To take the world from me and me from it,
'Gainst which I have no protection;
To spend love in what I may
No where but on earth enjoy,
Were to loose all my affection.
Nor on the choicest of them doting sit:
For when sad Death a habeas corpus brings,
To take the world from me and me from it,
'Gainst which I have no protection;
To spend love in what I may
No where but on earth enjoy,
Were to loose all my affection.
The longest lease of temporalls God doth make
Is but for life. I'll patiently behave
My self, though from me God be pleas'd to take
In middle age that which his bounty gave:
Neither discontent nor passion
Shall make me repine or grumble;
'T is a way to make me humble,
And takes from me a temptation.
Is but for life. I'll patiently behave
My self, though from me God be pleas'd to take
In middle age that which his bounty gave:
Neither discontent nor passion
Shall make me repine or grumble;
'T is a way to make me humble,
And takes from me a temptation.
Thou mad'st my heart, Lord: keep it for thy self,
Lest love of dust eternally undo me:
Vouchsafe that this vain worthlesse empty pelf
May never win me, though it daily woo me.
If 't were lovely, yet 't is gone
When I dy. Lord, make me see
That there is enough in thee
To place all my love upon.
Lest love of dust eternally undo me:
Vouchsafe that this vain worthlesse empty pelf
May never win me, though it daily woo me.
If 't were lovely, yet 't is gone
When I dy. Lord, make me see
That there is enough in thee
To place all my love upon.
Meditation 7.
I am a stranger and a pilgrime here:
The world's mine inne, 't is not my dwelling-place;
(In this condition all my fathers were)
The life I live below is but a race.
Here I sojourn some few yeares:
This world is a countrey strange;
Death my pilgrimage will change
For a home above the spheares.
The world's mine inne, 't is not my dwelling-place;
(In this condition all my fathers were)
The life I live below is but a race.
Here I sojourn some few yeares:
This world is a countrey strange;
Death my pilgrimage will change
For a home above the spheares.
In elder time the gooddesse Quiet had
Her temple; but 't was plac'd without the gates
Of Ethnick Rome; to shew that good and bad
Have here their vexing and disturbing fates,
And do bear their crosse about
Whilst within the walls they stay
Of this world, and shall enjoy
No rest till Death let them out.
Her temple; but 't was plac'd without the gates
Of Ethnick Rome; to shew that good and bad
Have here their vexing and disturbing fates,
And do bear their crosse about
Whilst within the walls they stay
Of this world, and shall enjoy
No rest till Death let them out.
Here I am look'd upon with divers eyes,
Sometimes of envy, sometimes of disdain:
Here I endure a thousand miseries:
Some vex my person, some my credit stain;
My estate's impair'd by some:
But yet this doth comfort me,
That hereafter I shall be
Better us'd when I come home.
Sometimes of envy, sometimes of disdain:
Here I endure a thousand miseries:
Some vex my person, some my credit stain;
My estate's impair'd by some:
But yet this doth comfort me,
That hereafter I shall be
Better us'd when I come home.
In all estates my patience shall sustein me:
I am resolved never to repine
Though ne'r so coursely this world entertein me:
Such is a strangers lot; such must be mine.
Were I of the world, to dwell
Here as in my proper home,
Without thoughts of life to come,
Then the world would use me well.
I am resolved never to repine
Though ne'r so coursely this world entertein me:
Such is a strangers lot; such must be mine.
Were I of the world, to dwell
Here as in my proper home,
Without thoughts of life to come,
Then the world would use me well.
I am not of their minds in whom appears
No care for any world but this below:
Who lay up goods in store for many years,
As if they were at home; but will bestow
Neither care nor industry
Upon heaven, as if there
They were strangers, but had here
A lease of eternitie.
No care for any world but this below:
Who lay up goods in store for many years,
As if they were at home; but will bestow
Neither care nor industry
Upon heaven, as if there
They were strangers, but had here
A lease of eternitie.
The banish'd Naso weeps in sable strain
The woes of banishment: nor could I tell,
If Death and it were offer'd, of the twain
Which to make choice of. O! to take farewell
Of our native soil, to part
With our friends and children dear,
And a wife that is so near,
Must needs kill the stoutest heart.
The woes of banishment: nor could I tell,
If Death and it were offer'd, of the twain
Which to make choice of. O! to take farewell
Of our native soil, to part
With our friends and children dear,
And a wife that is so near,
Must needs kill the stoutest heart.
What is 't then to be absent from that house,
Eternall in the heav'ns, not made with hands!
From Angels, Saints, God, Christ himself, whose Spouse
Our soul is! from a haven where nothing lands
That defileth; where's no danger,
No fear, no pain, no distresse:
All's eternall happinesse!
What is 't to be here a stranger!
Eternall in the heav'ns, not made with hands!
From Angels, Saints, God, Christ himself, whose Spouse
Our soul is! from a haven where nothing lands
That defileth; where's no danger,
No fear, no pain, no distresse:
All's eternall happinesse!
What is 't to be here a stranger!
I have been oft abroad, yet ne'r could find
Half that contentment which I found at home;
Methought that nothing suited with my mind
Into what place soever I did come:
Though I nothing needed there,
Neither clothes, nor drink, nor meat,
Nor fit recreations, yet
Methought home exceeded farre.
Half that contentment which I found at home;
Methought that nothing suited with my mind
Into what place soever I did come:
Though I nothing needed there,
Neither clothes, nor drink, nor meat,
Nor fit recreations, yet
Methought home exceeded farre.
Thither did my affections alwayes bend;
And I have wish'd, before I came half-way,
A thousand times, my journey at an end,
And have been angry with a minutes stay:
Sunne-set I did ever fear;
And a hill or dirty mile,
That delay'd me but a while,
Seem'd to set me back a yeare.
And I have wish'd, before I came half-way,
A thousand times, my journey at an end,
And have been angry with a minutes stay:
Sunne-set I did ever fear;
And a hill or dirty mile,
That delay'd me but a while,
Seem'd to set me back a yeare.
I built not tabernacles in mine inne,
Nor ever cry'd out, 'T is good being here.
No company would I be ever in
That drown'd but half an hour in wine or bier.
I have wish'd my horse would runne
With a farre more winged speed
Then those skittish jades that did
Draw the chariot of the Sunne.
Nor ever cry'd out, 'T is good being here.
No company would I be ever in
That drown'd but half an hour in wine or bier.
I have wish'd my horse would runne
With a farre more winged speed
Then those skittish jades that did
Draw the chariot of the Sunne.
From carnall self-love, Lord, my heart unfetter,
And then shall I desire my heavenly home
More then this here, because that home is better,
And pray with fervency, Thy kingdome come.
Lord, had thy poore servant done
What thou hast set him about,
I would never be without
Holy longings to be gone.
And then shall I desire my heavenly home
More then this here, because that home is better,
And pray with fervency, Thy kingdome come.
Lord, had thy poore servant done
What thou hast set him about,
I would never be without
Holy longings to be gone.
Meditation 8.
There was a State, as I have heard it spoken,
(The tale doth almost all belief surpasse)
That had a custome never to be broken,
(But a bad custome I am sure it was)
'Mongst themselves their King to choose:
The elected man must be
King as long's they would, and he
When they pleas'd his crown must loose.
(The tale doth almost all belief surpasse)
That had a custome never to be broken,
(But a bad custome I am sure it was)
'Mongst themselves their King to choose:
The elected man must be
King as long's they would, and he
When they pleas'd his crown must loose.
This State elected and deposed when
And whom they would: but the deposed Prince
They suffered not to live 'mongst other men,
But drove him to a countrey farre from thence
Into wofull banishment,
Where he chang'd his royalty
For want and all misery;
Scarce a Kingly punishment.
And whom they would: but the deposed Prince
They suffered not to live 'mongst other men,
But drove him to a countrey farre from thence
Into wofull banishment,
Where he chang'd his royalty
For want and all misery;
Scarce a Kingly punishment.
One King there was that whilst his crown was on,
Knowing his subjects fickle disposition,
Beat his crown-worthy head to think upon
Some course of providence, to make provision
At the place of's banishment:
Full-stuff'd bags of money, and
What things else might purchase land,
He into that Kingdome sent.
Knowing his subjects fickle disposition,
Beat his crown-worthy head to think upon
Some course of providence, to make provision
At the place of's banishment:
Full-stuff'd bags of money, and
What things else might purchase land,
He into that Kingdome sent.
It came to passe after some certain years,
His yoke seem'd heavy, and his people frown'd:
King-sick they were; their purpose soon appears:
A new King's chosen and the old's uncrow'nd.
And for exile, this foul beast,
Giddy, variable, rude,
The unconstant multitude,
Dealt with him as with the rest.
His yoke seem'd heavy, and his people frown'd:
King-sick they were; their purpose soon appears:
A new King's chosen and the old's uncrow'nd.
And for exile, this foul beast,
Giddy, variable, rude,
The unconstant multitude,
Dealt with him as with the rest.
But that his wiser providence was such,
When's banish'd predecessours lived poore,
What he had sent before was full as much
As did exclude want or desire of more.
There he lacks not any thing;
He doth purchase towns and fields,
And what else the countrey yields:
In estate he's still a King.
When's banish'd predecessours lived poore,
What he had sent before was full as much
As did exclude want or desire of more.
There he lacks not any thing;
He doth purchase towns and fields,
And what else the countrey yields:
In estate he's still a King.
So shall we fare hereafter in the next
As we provide in this life. Sure I see
A providence in all: Who is not vex'd,
And plung'd, and lean with too much industry?
Men of all sorts runne and ride,
Sweat and toil, and cark and care,
Get and keep, and pinch and spare;
And all's done for to provide.
As we provide in this life. Sure I see
A providence in all: Who is not vex'd,
And plung'd, and lean with too much industry?
Men of all sorts runne and ride,
Sweat and toil, and cark and care,
Get and keep, and pinch and spare;
And all's done for to provide.
For to provide? what? goods, and lands, and money,
Honours, preferments, pleasures, wealth and friends:
(As bees in summer-time provide their hony)
To sublunaries their provision tends,
And no farther; 't is for dust
That they labour and thick clay,
For these goods that will away,
And for treasures that will rust.
Honours, preferments, pleasures, wealth and friends:
(As bees in summer-time provide their hony)
To sublunaries their provision tends,
And no farther; 't is for dust
That they labour and thick clay,
For these goods that will away,
And for treasures that will rust.
For to provide? for what? Their present life,
That's naturall; their bodies have their care:
Their spirituall state's neglected: there's no strife
For grace and goodnesse. Souls immortall are,
Living everlastingly
In eternall wo or blisse,
As here our provision as,
Yet are not a jote set by.
That's naturall; their bodies have their care:
Their spirituall state's neglected: there's no strife
For grace and goodnesse. Souls immortall are,
Living everlastingly
In eternall wo or blisse,
As here our provision as,
Yet are not a jote set by.
Men do provide amisse: Full well I know it,
I shall be banish'd from this sinne-smote place:
All here is fading, and I must forgo it.
What shall I lay up for hereafter? grace,
An unspotted conscience,
Faith in Christ, sobriety,
Holinesse, and honesty:
These will help when I go hence.
I shall be banish'd from this sinne-smote place:
All here is fading, and I must forgo it.
What shall I lay up for hereafter? grace,
An unspotted conscience,
Faith in Christ, sobriety,
Holinesse, and honesty:
These will help when I go hence.
Strengthen those graces, Lord, which thou hast given,
And I shall quickly change both care and love;
My care for earth into a care for heaven,
Take off my heart from hence, and fix 't above,
And will lay up all provision
For that life which is to come
Whilst a stranger, that at home
I may find a blest condition.
And I shall quickly change both care and love;
My care for earth into a care for heaven,
Take off my heart from hence, and fix 't above,
And will lay up all provision
For that life which is to come
Whilst a stranger, that at home
I may find a blest condition.
| Midnights Meditations of Death | |