Prison-Pietie or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London |
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Of Mirth and Mourning. |
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Of Mirth and Mourning.
In midst of Mirth there sadness is,And so in Grief there's joy;
Whilst wealthy sinners faces smile,
Their hearts do feel annoy.
Carnal delights they are but vain,
And bring vexations too;
They sound like musick in a strain,
Whose discord ends in rue.
Thus to the Sensualist they play,
Lest he prove dull and sad;
But when the Reckoning comes to pay,
It makes him downright mad.
So true is that of Solomon,
In laughter there is grief;
The end of mirth is heaviness,
And Hell the false relief.
But he that's truly penitent,
And doth his Tears impart,
They are to Angels straightway sent,
Rejoycing his own heart.
They are the solace of his Soul;
If bitter they appear,
His comforts then the sweeter are,
The sinner's Pearl's a Tear.
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And threaten to destroy,
In peace he may lie down and sleep,
The fuller is his joy.
The beams of Consolation shine
Into this house of grief:
His Soul in travel is; at last
Sweet Peace is his relief.
So that I truly may conclude,
He that doth mourn for Sin,
Doth weep for Joy; a multitude
Of Pleasure lies therein.
Those Christal Rivers that do flow
So neer the Heav'nly King,
They their original do owe
Unto a Weeping-spring.
One rich drop from a solid sigh
Pure in a Christal-birth,
Is to be priz'd (by far) above
Oceans of carnal Mirth.
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