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Miscellaneous works of George Wither

Wither, George (1588-1667)

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Vox Pacifica:
  
Carmen Eucharisticon:
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A Suddain Flash
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A Triple Paradox:
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A Proclamation In the Name of the King of Kings, To all the Inhabitants of the Isles of Great Brittain:
 I. 
I. To those Friends, unto whom this Author hath been scandalously mis-represented in private, by some false Brethren and others.
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II. A causual Meditation on Faith, Hope, Fear and Love.
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III. To those who enquire, why this Author is now imprisoned in Newgate?
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IV. A Hymn of Thanksgiving, for deliverance from a dangerous and sharp Sickness, during his Imprisonment.
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V. To them who say, or suppose, that a vain desire of Fame, was this Authors principal motive, to the Composure of what he hath written and published.
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VI. A Meditation, occasioned by considering the manifold Temptations to distrust in GOD, whereby his best Servants are otherwhile proved and exercised.
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VII. Another Scrap, to them, who carp at this Author's frequent writing.
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VIII. An Eccho from the Thunders, in the celestial Temple, reverberating, in part, the effect of what was uttered by their Voices.
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IX. A brief Reproof of them, who take pleasure in Scandalous Invectives, whereby others are personally defamed.
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X. A Disclaim, by way of Advertisement, of a Paper, falsly imputed to this Author.
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XI. To them who object it as a fault, that this Author hath written several Poems, since he resolved to write no more.
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XII. Of Governours and Governments; and how we ought to demean our selves toward them.
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XIII. A Scrap added to the former, since the sending of the Authors Remonstrance to the house of Commons.
  
Verses written by Mr. George Wither upon three Trenchers with Oker, during his close-Imprisonment, and carried to the Lieutenant of the Tower by the said Prisoners Keeper.
  
Hearing it reported, that the Diurnal women cryed the news of his Impeachment for Treason, he composed this Epigram.
  
Ingenii Largitor Venter.
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1

My Soul, come let us go,
In Sodom longer linger not:
Look not behinde thee so,
But call to minde the wife of LOT.
Let nothing here
To thee be dear,
Or captive thy desires:
GOD will thereon,
When we are gon,
Rain down consuming Fires.

2

Though with a glorious light,
The SUN thereon begins to rise,
A dreadful Storm ere night,
Her careless Dwellers will surprize.
Come, come away,
Without delay;
Quite cast her out of mind:
For worth thy thought
In her there's nought,
VVhich thou shalt leave behind.

3

GOD's mercies they contemn;
His Kindness with despights repay;
Still when he speaks to them,
They turn their heads another way.
VVhen he intreats,
Reproves, or threats,
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To heed it they disdain;
Or with a scoff
They put it off,
And obstinate remain.

4

GOD here hath pitch'd his Tent;
And here, had they his counsel took,
To dwell for ever meant;
But they, alas! have him forsook.
This, which a place
Like EDEN was,
Is now defil'd with sin;
Still Fruit it bears,
That fair appears;
But 'tis all dust within.

5

Then from this cursed Plain
Flee, to those Everlasting Hills,
Where safe thou may'st remain,
And whereon thy Redeemer dwells.
Here make no stay:
For though there may
In ZOAR safety seem,
VVhen such Storms be,
Secure are we
No where, except in him.

6

This is their fatal day,
Which day, perhaps, may last a year;
And true Repentance may
Avert the DOOM approaching near.
But, I much doubt,
That trifled out
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This Day of Grace will be.
Therefore in fear,
And danger here,
Our stay, will always be.
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