The Muses Sacrifice :: :: University of Virginia Library

With what loue shall I quite such wondrous Loue,
That comes from such vnheard-of Clemencie?
Who art thou, and who am I, that can moue
Heau'ns God t'immure himselfe in misery?

That thou whose Glory, Glory it selfe admires,
Sholdst deigne to dwel in durt, more vile then dung:
Sith Holinesse, sweet Lord, thy House requires,
Which hardly rests where many vices throng.

Heau'n is thy Seate, the Earth thy Footstoole is;
(For Heau'n and Earth thy Maiestie doth fill!
Then why, great God, art thou well pleas'd with this
That thou art made but Mud for mire so ill?

For, if the Heau'n, nay, Heau'n of Heauens be
But too too small thy greatnesse to containe;
Then how can my heart, lesse then nought, hold thee?
How in a Bit of Wormes-meate canst thou raigne?

O Wonder! that all Maruels farre surmounts,
He that vpon the Cherubins doth ride,
And viewes all Deeps from thence, himself dismounts
That he may in my Heart, (deepe Hell) abide!

It not suffiz'd thy glowing Charitie
To giue me Angels for my Guards and Guides,

[17]

Nay, wast not onely pleas'd for me to dye,
But dwelst in me to giue me life besides!

There dost thou visit, in the kindest kinde,
The Sicke (sore sicke!) to giue him health thereby?
Sore sick in Body, but more sicke in Minde:
And raise the Dead, that willingly did dye.

My Soule exulteth (with ioy rauished)
When as I minde that Miracle; how once
A Prophets dead Bones rais'd to life the Dead,
Onely by touching those life-giuing Bones!

If those dead Bones had such reuiuing pow'r,
Then, what shall not Gods liuing Body doe?
The liuing Body of Lifes Gouernour,
Must needes giue endlesse Life and Glory too.

And if dead Bones, conceiued in Sinne, haue might
To giue life to a sinfull Bodie, dead;
What shall that doe conceiued by thy Spirit?
That, must needs life-inspire eu'n senselesse Bread.

My Soule though dead in Sinne, yet touching Thee
By Faith; and in thy bloud being sanctifide,
Can it but more then liue in Thee and me,
When Thou therein dost more then still abide?

And sith that Corpes was rais'd that crau'd not life,
By touching those dead Bones; then, Lord let me

(That, as my Husband, clip thee, as thy Wife)
Be rais'd to life, that beg the same of thee.

I cannot thinke (because I thinke of thee
as more then Grace it selfe!) that thou hast borne
My sinnes, and in my sinnes, dost beare with mee;
that of thy Grace I shall be quite forlorne.

O! can my Soule but melt to thinke how oft
thou mightst haue slaine me, yet didst vse thy knife
To prune, and make me grow in Grace aloft,
and flu'st my Foes therewith that sought my life?

How many thousand Soules now burne in Hell,
that haue (perhaps) sinn'd lesse then sinfull I?
Who held thy Hands when I did so rebell,
that I should liue when Soules lesse sinfull dye?

My sinnes cry to thee, and thou stop'st thine Eares
lest thou sholdst heare them; & the more they cry,
The more thy deafenesse to them still appeares,
as if thou didst their clamorous suite deny.

I doe but sinne, and thou dost me but saue;
if I flye fast from thee, thou followest faster:
Though I be tir'd with Sinne, thy Mercies haue
no meane to tire; but meanes my Sinnes to master.

The more I sinne, the more thou humblest mee;
so, mak'st me know my selfe, by knowing Sinne:

[18]

Nay more, it puls me from my selfe to thee;
so, though I Iose my selfe, yet thee I winne.

O strange disposing of the worst of Ill!
meere Concord of maine Contradiction:
That which puls from, doth draw together still,
where loue drawes Discords to make Vnion.

So then, my Faults, as if they Vertues were,
wrought for my good, by thee that hast the skill
To beare with men, to make them sinne forbeare;
and so, through Grace, to pull good out of Ill!

Yet didst thou whisper in my Soules right Eare,
that I should doe no ill for such good end;
But mad'st me (sinning) Sinne to hate and feare;
(in loue) for that it did thee (Love) offend.

With Thornes thou dost hedge-in my narrow Way,
that if I ere so little step awry,
They straight doe pricke me, and so make me pray
for help to thee, in whom all help doth lye.

And as the Hunter stoppeth vp each Gap,
wher-through the wild Bore may escape vncaught:
So, dost thou stop my way with each misse-hap,
when I would runne away from thee to nought.

Am I escapt from out thy mercies Hands?
thy Hand of Iustice puls me in againe:

So, Mercy holds me, by which Iustice stands
to help to hold me safe by ease and paine.

Haue I a Will, by Death, to damne my Soule,
(by desprate Death to damne, not mine, but thine?)
Thou dost that Will with thy good Will controule,
And mak'st my Will thy Will in spight of mine.

Am I resolu'd to sinne presumptuously,
and, that of purpose to despight thee too?
Thou mak'st the Will without the Deed to dye;
and, mak'st me damne the Deed ere it I doe.

Would I, for any indiuine respect,
sell Heau'n for Earth, and God (so) for the Deuill?
Thou God dost make that Would worke good effect;
for, when it proues the Ill, it shuns the euill.

Is my Hand stretched out, my faith to plight
to blacke Perdition? twixt my hand and It
Thou putst thy hand of Iustice, which doth smite
away my hand, before that knot be knit.

The Weapons me thou gau'st my selfe to saue,
I (monster) did against thy Goodnesse bend;
And with thy glorious gifts I thee did braue;
so, did I shame my selfe, and Thee offend.

The Tongue thou mouedst that blasphemed Thee;
thou rul'dst the limbes that did thy Members rend:

[19]

Thou gau'st Wit pow'r with Thee to disagree;
and gau'st Will force the giuer to offend.

So, that not onely I ingrate haue bin
for thy good gifts, but haue the same imployd
As weapons of vnrighteousnesse, in Sinne,
and so with thine owne Grace haue thee annoid.

Thou mad'st all Creatures for mine onely vse,
t'allure me to thy gainfull Loue thereby;
But, I abused thee, by their abuse;
so, with thy Good deeds did thee damnifie.

So, that through whom the seeing of thy Face
was to be tane, through them I could not see:
For I, as Gods, did them (in Loue) embrace
which thou had'st giu'n, to guide me vnto Thee.

That I might serue thee, me did all things serue;
I did command, that me thou might'st intreat:
They did me Good, when I did ill deserue;
and when I made thee small, they made me great.

Thou gau'st me Faith, and Hell the Fruites hath had;
thou gau'st me Grace, and Sinne hath vs'd the same;
Thou gau'st me Wit, which Will abus'd, as mad;
thou gau'st me Sense, wherewith my selfe I shame.

Thou gau'st me Health, which, sickely, I haue vs'd,
in riot, surfet, and in all excesse:

Thou gau'st me Strength, which I haue still abus'd
in waging warre with thine owne Mightinesse.

Thou, for my profit, plaguedst other men;
that so, from Sinne, I might be kept, with ease:
But I (vnplagued) plagu'd my Brethren,
so farre off was I from remorse by These.

These Gifts I (most vngratefull) gratis had;
which (though abus'd) I vsed when I would:
And, being Gifts too good, made me too bad;
For, they made me too proud, and too too bold.

The rage of Lyons, Tygers, and the like,
Is lenified with gifts, and turn'd to loue;
But, with thy gifts, to grieue thee I did seeke;
Yet still thou mad'st me their increase to proue.

Thou Man becam'st to make a God of mee;
(at least a God, that Heau'n and Earth doe serue:)
And I became a Diuell, in Deed, to Thee;
that wrong'd thee more, the more thou didst deserue.

High'st Iustice, shining through thy Passions Cloud,
could not enforce me it to loue, or dread:
Thou had'st no hole, wherein thy head to shroud;
but, all this All's too little for my head.

Though thou art God, Foes Fists thy face enorme;
if any touch my Coate, I touch them home

[20]

By word, and deed; that yet am but a Worme;
thou striu'st for lowest, I for highest Roome.

Thou wouldst be slaine, to slaughter Sinne in me;
but, by thy death, I life-inspir'd the same:
So, thy great Mercy made me martyr Thee;
and, with the Iewes, I made thy griefes my game.

The Med'cine, so, thou gau'st to cure my Wounds,
I venomed to make my hurt the more,
Which both with Sinne & shame my Soule confounds,
sith Sinne, by Grace, I made more sinfull sore.

If from the Law, to take a cause to sinne,
is much more damn'd then sinne without the Law;
What is it then, when Grace so vs'd hath bin:
and force to fight with Grace, from grace to draw?

The wilde-fire of my Passions burned me;
my Thoughts Distractions did me quite deuide;
The Worme of Conscience rag'd where thou wouldst be
yet these I did (as one in thee) abide!

For, mine Affections cryed nought but Peace,
when those Affections most did Peace impunge;
And when I was in Hell, they seem'd in ease,
so much the old misled Affections young.

And, Fury-like, towards hel I alwayes made;
but, thou more wayes then all wayes broughtst me back.

The Trade of Vertue, I held Vices Trade;
sith, more then Vice, she seem'd to liue in lacke.

How oft haue I beene at the gates of Hell
and could not enter, though I went about:
Thou didst the Diuell from his charge compell;
so, Porter wast thy selfe to keepe me out.

Nay, when I haue beene euen in his Iawes,
and that his Fangs were entring in my Soule,
Till thou didst pul me thence, thou mad'st him pause;
so, came I, as from Heau'n, as Meeke, as Whole.

O! how can I such pow'rfull Grace requite;
that forceth Iustice with Her force to ioyne
From wracke to saue me in mine owne despight,
and made restore, who did my selfe purloyne?

Had I the liues of Angels and of Men,
and, offer'd all to thee in sacrifice,
And, if those liues were thrice resum'd agen,
and, offer'd vp as oft, t'would not suffice.

T'would not suffice to recompence thy loue;
it were too cheape to quite thy deare desert;
O then can I (wretch) so vngratefull proue,
as not to giue thee one poore wretched Heart?

Can I, ô can I be so much besides
Grace, Faith, Sense, Mother-wit, my selfe and all,

[21]

That hauing yet these gifts to be my guides,
doe yet but stand by these, by these to fall?

If I be lost, it must not be in Hell,
(thogh ne'er so dark) for there thou foundst me out:
It must be somewhere, which no where can tell;
for where that is, both Time and Place doe doubt.

It cannot be in Hell; for, thou art there;
then Heau'ns thy Seat (ah! would I there were lost)
Nay, not in Place; for, thou art eu'ry where!
Then not in Time, which, ere It was, thou knowst!

If then in Heau'n, nor Hell, in Time, nor Place,
where then? in my selfe lost, I cannot be:
Yet, lost I am, if I doe lose thy grace;
which found me when I stole my selfe from thee!

But yet, if needes I will be lost, at last,
(for grace, at last, saues none against their will)
No Lost-child euer was lockt halfe so fast
from losing; and, deserueth halfe so ill.

The worst of Ill, made worse with Ill made Whole,
is too too good for one made worse then That:
Too little he doth lose, to lose his Soule,
that, maugre grace, still does he cares not what.

Therefore (deare Lord) let me not enter in
this strict reuisall of my Sinne and grace

The lesse to make excusable my Sinne,
but, thereby more, much more, thy Loue embrace.

For these Confessions written by my Hand
against my selfe, against my selfe will goe
To thy Tribunal; and against me stand,
if now I doe not euer Sinne forgoe.

Then let thy Wunds be once more opened
(deare Christ) to wash me in thy reeking bloud:
Reuiue me, by thy death, that being dead
(still dead) to Ill, I may still liue to good.

O! iuycie Bunch of Soule-refreshing grapes,
(hard pressed in the Wine-presse of the Crosse!)
Make druncke my thirstie Soule, that (gasping) gapes
for thy pure bloud, to purge mine, being too grosse.

Mine Ire, Pride Lust, Presumption, Hate and Scorne,
yeah all my Sinnes which I can ne'er recite)
I cast into thy wounds which wide are torne;
O keepe them There then, from thy Fathers sight.

As much as those confound, these comfort me;
nay, more, much more sith more thou canst forgiue
Then I can sinne, although I quartred Thee,
if when the deed is done, through grace I grieue.

Mellefluous Sea of Comforts most diuine,
Meridian Light, whence springs true glories Day,

[22]

With both o'er whelme me, till through both I shine
in perfect glory by thy glories Ray.

Let not my Deedes, or inofficious Sloth
doe or omit, what should not, or be done:
For, both are cursed by thy blessed mouth,
sith Ill to doe, and good omit, is one:
But, let this league be constant to the end;
For they but mend to marre, that marre to mend.

And Wisedome, at our wisedome, doth but scoffe,
When we doe ill, that good may come thereof.