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Miscelanea

Meditations. Memoratiues. By Elizabeth Grymeston
Grymeston, Elizabeth

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To her louing sonne Bernye Grymeston.
  
[Crush the serpent in the head]
  
[As a false Louer that thicke snares hath laied]
  
Simon Grahame to the Authour.
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MISCELANEA
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CHAP. II. A mortified mans melancholy expressed in the person of Heraclitus, who alwaies wept.
  
[A dolefull case desires a dolefull song]
  
[A wretched world, the den of wretchednesse.]
  
[Which did in former time Gods image beare?]
  
[Since haruest neuer failes, but euer must]
  
[For when the soule findes here no true content]
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CHAP. III. A Patheticall speech of the person of Diues in the torments of hell.
  
[Like as the sacred oxe that carelesse stands]
  
[Vnder whose feet, subiected to his grace]
  
[A deadly gulfe where nought but rubbish growes]
  
[Your fond preferments are but childrens toyes.]
  
[What in this life we haue or can desire]
  
[Let euery one do all the good he can]
  
[God is best when soonest wrought]
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CHAP. IIII. Who liues most honestly, will die most willingly.
  
[For what's the life of man, but euen a tragedie]
  
[Our frailties dome, is written in the flowers]
  
[Death is the salue that ceaseth all annoy.]
  
[Life is a bubble blowen vp with a breath]
  
[O who would liue, so many deaths to trie]
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CHAP. V. Speculum vitæ. A sinners glasse.
  
[The sinne that conquers grace by wicked vre]
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CHAP VI. The union of Mercy and Iustice.
  
[O who shall shew the countenance and gestures]
  
[For hope of helpe still comfort giues]
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CHAP. VII. Ingum meum suaue.
  
[If ought can touch vs ought, afflictions lookes]
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CHAP. X. A theme to think on.
  
[This soul's a substance and a reall thing]
  
[He that preferres not God fore all his race]
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CHAP. XI. Morning Meditation, with sixteene sobs of a sorowfull spirit, which she used for ment all prayer, as also an addition of sixteene staues of uerse taken out of Peters complaint; which she usually sung and played on the winde instrument.
  
[A sorie wight the obiect of disgrace]
  
[Sad subiect of my sinne hath stor'd my minde]
  
[Giue vent vnto the vapors of my brest]
  
[For gripes in all my parts doe neuer faile]
  
[My guiltie eie still seemes to see my sinne]
  
[For lif's a maze of countlesse straying waies]
  
[Else weeping eies resigne your teares to me]
  
[Lest shame the liuery of offending mind]
  
[For fawning vipers, dumbe till they had wounded]
  
[O beames of mercy beat on sorrowes cold]
  
[If Dauid night by night did bathe his bed]
  
[Christ health of feuer'd soule, heauen of the mind]
  
[Latar at pities gate I vlcered lie]
  
[Prone lookes, crost armes, bent knee, and contrite heart]
  
[With mildnesse Iesu measure my offence]
  
[Redeeme my lapse with ransome of thy loue]
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CHAP. XII.
  
A Madrigall made by Berny Grymeston vpon the conceit of his mothers play to the former ditties.
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CHAP. XIII. Euening Meditation. Odes in imitation of the seuen pœnitentiall Psalmes, in seuen seuerall kinde of verse.
  
Domine exaudi orationem meam.
  
De profundis clamaui ad te Domine.
  
Domine exaudi orationem meam.
  
Miserere mei Deus.
  
Domine ne in furore.
  
Beati quorum remissæ sunt.
  
Domine ne in furore.
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THE BALLAD, OR; Some Scurrilous Reflections In Verse, On the PROCEEDINGS of the Honourable HOUSE of COMMONS:
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To her louing sonne Bernye Grymeston.


[Crush the serpent in the head]

Crush the serpent in the head,
Breake ill egges yer they be hatched.
Kill bad chickens in the tread,
Fledge they hardly can be catched.
In the rifling stifle ill,
Lest it grow against thy will.

[As a false Louer that thicke snares hath laied]

As a false Louer that thicke snares hath laied,
T'intrap the honour of a faire yoong maid,
When she (though little) listning eare affoords
To his sweet, courting, deepe affected words,
Feeles some asswaging of his freezing flame,
And sooths himselfe with hope to gain his game,
And rapt with ioy, vpon this point persists,
That parleing citie neuer long resists:
Euen so the serpent that doth counterfet
A guilefull call t'allure vs to his net,
Perceiuing vs his flattering gloze disgest,
He prosecutes, and iocund doth not rest,
Till he haue tri'd foot, hand, and head, and all,
Vpon the breach of this new battered wall.
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