The Muses Sacrifice :: :: University of Virginia Library

That God IS, no Man euer made a doubt;
if doubt some did, they did it not as Men:
For, faithlesse men, by meere sense, God finde out:
what are these senselesse God-deniers then?

They are not Fiends; for, they haue humane Soules;
and Fiends confesse, with feare, there is a God:
Much lesse, not Angels, Beasts, nor Fish, nor Fowles,
for, these praise God! What then? Eu'n their owne Rod.

Who doe themselues, tormentingly, confound;
hardning their Hearts; and, so, plague Sinne by Sinne:

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Yet ioy in that which doth their Conscience wound:
is't possible such Creatures ere haue bin?
It's possible, for, such there be, God wot,
That know not God, because God knowes them not.

No pleasure to the pleasure of the Spirit.

Two Ioyes there are, whereof, the one is not;
of Flesh the one, that other of the Spirit:
The Spirits ioy is reall, actiue, hot;
but, that of flesh, is vaine, cold, dull and light.

How then can they be two, if but one Be?
one is; but is, but meerely in Conceit:
Which in Conceit, is forgde by Fantazie;
and whatsoe'er is forgde, is but deceit.

Yet in this meere deceit, most men conceiue
most pleasure to consist; and, it to buy,
They most essentiall perfect pleasures giue:
so, make their Iudgement giue their Sense the lye:
For, Sense could neuer tell, by her Receit,
That such Ioy Is, that is but in conceit.

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Uanitie of Vanities, all is but Vanitie.

Eccles. 1. 2.

A mortall Eye can see but mortall Things;
and whatsoe'er is mortall, is but vaine:
Then all we see is vaine, though Crownes, or Kings;
yet Men will lose themselues, the same to gaine.

And yet, thy weene, they winne by so great losse;
ô corrupt Iudgement! Men made to be lost:
Who will all Vices (hatcht in Hell) engrosse,
them to retaile, to get but Care, with Cost.

It's said, Light gaine doth make an heauy Purse;
but, this light gaine doth make an heauy Heart:
To gaine all blessings, with Gods heauie Curse,
is too light gaine for such an heauy Thwart:
For, who doth purchase All at such a Price,
Doth buy but extreame Vanitie with Vice.

Fly vaine Pleasures, as Paines intollerable.

If Vanitie be All, and All be vaine,
how scapes he from this All, that's All in All?

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It is, because He euer doth remaine,
the Cause of Causes metaphisicall.

Sith fiends immortall are, not vaine they are:
for Vanitie is but the Instrument
Wherewith, in sport, they doe this All ensnare,
to bring the same to Be as they are bent.

And, so, vnbend their being, and, distort
the euen Compasse that became their Forme:
So Vanitie them backward bends, in sport;
and, Sathan still, in sport, doth them deforme:
O then let All that would be bent aright,
Beware these sports, that doe distort them quite.

To the good, the Worst fals out for the Best.

The Crosse and Crowne, on Earth, our value try;
as Crownes alone, in Heau'n, our vertue crowne:
In Earth, if crown'd, we swell in Heart too hie,
and, vnder Crosses we lie basely downe.

But yet, if Grace doe Nature ouer-sway,
and that a Crosse, or Crowne, alike we beare,
A pride of Grace, our Nature, will bewray;
so, in our Nature, Sinne, though dead, doth steere.

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And yet this Pride doth humble vs the more;
for when we mind it, griefe doth vs pursue:
So, is our Sore still cured by our Sore;
for, still we heale as we our griefe renew:
This, is a Worke of Nature; that of Grace;
And this and that, runnes with vs all our Race.

To the Lady Anne Glemmam, vpon the death of her noble Father.

To lye downe vnder Crosses, is to lye
in our Confusion: for, that's Cowardize;
And hath no taste of true Humilitie:
then, such prostration is an abiect Vice.

Nor is't the Way from Crosses to be free
to sinke beneath the Crosse, which weighes the more
The more we, vnder it, so, humbled be;
but HEE that bore your Sinnes It stoutly bore.

Yet is the Crosse impos'd to humble vs;
nor, is't remou'd, till we be humble made;
How much more low, so much more glorious;
(so as the Crosse doth vs not ouer-lade)
Then if we meeke be made, we winne by losse;
And cut a Crowne of Glory from the Crosse.

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That to sinne finally malitiously, is irremissible.

The oftner Sinne, the more griefe, showes a Saint;
the oftner Sinne, the lesse griefe, notes a Fiend:
But to sinne oft, with griefe the Soule doth taint;
and, oft to sinne with Ioy, the Soule doth rend.

To sinne, on Hope, is Sinne most full of feare;
to sinne of malice, is the Diuels Sinne:
One is, that Christ may greater Burthen beare;
the other, that his Death might still beginne.

To sinne, of frailtie is a sinne; but, weake:
to sinne, in strength, the stronger makes the blame:
The first, the Reede, Christ bare, hath pow'r to break;
the last, his Thorny Crowne, can scarse vnframe:
But, finally, to sinne malitiously,
Reede, Crowne, nor Crosse hath pow'r to crucifie!

That mortall Life is a mortall Plague.

This Life, of ours, is call'd Life most amisse;
which may be tearm'd, more truely, lifes disease;

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Whose perfect'st Pleasures are oppos'd to Blisse,
and, greatest paines grow from her greatest ease.

One, hath the Plague, we say, and he will dye,
that yet may liue; then much more may we say,
That One hath Life, and Death he cannot flye:
for, Life's a Sicknesse mortall eu'ry way.

Doth mortall life, then, bring the mortall'st death?
then, no Disease so mortall as it is:
A Plague of Plagues then, is our mortall breath;
yet mortall Men would still be plagu'd with this:
Though Life be Plague of Plagues, yet this desire,
Is the high'st Plague, whereto no Plagues aspire.

Too much Honie breakes the Belly.

Sweet honied Life, thinkes one, that Honie draines
from bloomes of Helebore (this vaine Worlds-wealth)
Which, though It breakes his Belly, yet his paines
seeme, to his Appetite, true Signes of Health.

O bewitcht iudgement! Senses rest of Sense!
deeme yee that sweet, that yeelds Effects so sowre?
That spoiles the Will and soiles th' Intelligence?
and Soule and Body, quite, in dung, deuoure?

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Yet, those whose Spirits are turn'd to grossest flesh,
nay, those whose flesh seemes turn'd to purest sp'rit
Are thus bewitcht; which Sweetes their Sense refresh;
who sting like Waspes, if them they lose by might:
If thus they fare by whom the World is led,
What meruell though in sweete Sinne It be dead?

The Foole makes a mocke of Sinne.

Pro. 14.9.

Who laughes at Sin; for Sin can hardly weepe:
who jests thereat, is mad, or misbeleeues:
Then, sith the World still laughes at Debt so deepe,
it showes it madly sinnes; and neuer grieues.

Sinne is a Stinger; and who feeles it not
is mortifide, not to, but in fowle Sinnes:
Then, doth the World, in Sinne, but stincke and rot;
for, it feeles not when Sinne ends, or beginnes.

If it doe stincke, what Nose can it abide?
if it doe rot, what Eye, or Taste, or Touch
Can be content by them it should be tride?
Then onely Hearing heares it without grutch:
And that's because the Dead, in silence, cry
Cave to those, that, liuing, are to dye:
Then they that loue it, in such lothsome plight,
Haue neither Sense, nor Reason, Flesh, nor Spright.

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The World is in a desperate plight, for which Christ refused to pray.

Bvt if the World be dead, God owes it not;
for of the liuing, He is God alone:
And, if not Gods, it is the Diuels Lot;
which bounded is with the chiefe Corner-STONE.

From that Stone vpwards, all to God belongs;
and from it, downewards, all the Diuels is:
For, God, being iust, the Diuell neuer wrongs;
but; lets him haue his due; as He hath His.

Then, to be Gods, is still to rest thereon:
but who can rest there, that God doth not stay?
Then, sith the World refus'd this Corner Stone,
God, for the World, refused but to pray:
O wofull World, how canst thou merry be,
That so forsook'st him, that so leaueth thee?

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That all Heresies are grounded on the infallible Scriptures erroniously interpreted.

Each Bible-bearing Sectarie will say
hee's in the Truth; and proues it by her Word:
Thus, is the Word of Truth wrencht eu'ry way;
and made a Text that Falshood doth afford.

Yet, Truth's but one, though Falshood's manifold;
and when Truths Saints, with her Word, do conspire
To finde her out; that Truth embrace we should,
though we should mount to her in Coach of fire.

No Exposition of the Truth is true,
but what Truth makes her friends, alone, to make:
Who know Her best, and what to Her is due;
but, fooles, wise in their owne Eyes, both mistake:
For many Eagles Eyes haue better sight
Then one blinde Bats, that hardly see the light.

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That the Eye is Sinnnes Burning-glasse, working vpon the Heart and Soule.

As Sinne's most conuersant with outward Sense;
so is she most familiar with the Eye:
For, shee sits in the eyes Concupiscence
as in her Throne of greatest Maiestie.

From eyes, to eyes, Sinne doth, in triumph, Tilt:
(a firie Serpent, clad in siluer Rayes:)
The end of whose Carreere is, where her guilt
makes blacke the Soule with Dolor and Dispraise.

Heuah first sinn'd: but, ere her Heart, her Eye
did Sinne commit; and all the lustfull Crue
Melt in that Sunne, like Yee, vntill they dye:
yet, like dead Flies, those Rayes, their liues renue:
Then, sith this Sunne exhales such Humours ill,
We must with Sorrowes Clouds, eclipse It still.

To take is to giue; for a Gift, Liberty.

Ovr Mouthes runne o'er with false Superlatiues,
in praising him, though bad, that did vs good;

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Which are nought else, but true demonstratiues
of the Corruption of our basest bloud.

For, Pride can giue as much as Charitie:
and Tyranny as much as Mercy can:
But, who applauds or Pride or Tyranny,
doe Monsters praise, the Minde doth make the Man.

Then shall we take no good gifts of the lad?
I say not so: and yet, I say, who will
Take Kingdomes of the Diu'll, are worse than mad;
for He doth good to no man, but for ill:
Then sith, for Gifts, Men giue their Libertie,
Such Gifts binde Takers oft to villanie.

Againe, of the same.

And yet blinde Iustice sees her Sword to sheath,
if any offer her a Sheath of Gold;
Nay, high and hardy Hands oft sincke beneath
the abiect Gift and Giuer, to vphold.

There's nought more free than gift: yet nought more ties
the Hand, that takes them, to the Giuers will:
And yet (ah woe therefore) some godly-wise,
take Gifts, as good: and giue, as gifts were ill.

Were I a Diuell, yet were I liberall,
(in this damn'd Age) I would be seru'd with Saints:

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For, if I sent bright Angels to them all,
they would adore me, maugre all restraints:
But, were I God, if Gold were not my Friend,
Pure Saints, in shew, would lothe me like a Fiend.

To him that hath, shall be giuer; and from him that hath not, shall be taken away, that which it seemes he hath.

Mat. 25. 29.

His Word is Truth, that said, to him that hath,
shall still be giuen; and, from him that lackes
Shall be withdrawne that which he holds, with scath;
so, this World makes men, made; & marr'd men, wracks.

Who least doth lacke, hath most bestow'd on him;
for God and Men giue richest gifts to Kings:
So, he that doth in all abundance swimme,
each Hand to him much more Abundance brings.

What meanes this Mysterie so mysticall!
what! World, begin'st thou now, with Age, to dote,
That Thou dost giue some All; some, nought at all:
and, sinck'st some, sincking, to make swimmers flote?
I know now what this meanes; but, this I know,
Tis too much to be loth'd, to be too low.

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Of the Neglect of Arte and Vertue. To mine ingenious, deere, and well-accomplish'd Friend, Mr. Iohn Sandford, of Magdalen-Colledge in Oxford.

Goe, forlorne Vertue, into Eden goe;
and, with Leaues, hide thine outward nakednes:
Though tis their shame, not thine, that made thee so;
there make Worke for the Presse, far from the Presse.

Tell Times to come, how much these Times neglect Thee,
in Lines as far from death, as free from dread:
And, make their Ofsprings blush that doe reiect Thee;
yea, liue in shame when their Shames Cause is dead.

With open Hand to All, thy Largesse throw;
though All are too straite-handed, vnto Thee:
Make them, them selues, and thee, aright, to know;
that in thy shining Lines they, both, may see:
But, if they will be blinde, and both still wrong,
Eden still keepe, and sing a Sion Song.

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Yee haue made a mocke of the counsell of the Poore.

Psal. 14. 10.

The Wisedome of the Poore, is still mispriz'd,
sith by their Wealth, Mens Wits are valued:
Speake he like Salomon, hee's ill aduis'd,
say some, that vnderstood not what he said.

But if he be an Isis-bearing Asse,
and speake what he himselfe, nor none conceiues,
His Praise shall, as his Folly doth, surpasse;
and speakes, as he no place for answere leaues.

Yet had some Kings, some Beggers in a place,
where he might not be seene, to vse their Wit,
(If it were Soueraigne, though his state were base)
this Sou'raigne would, of him, perhaps, beg It:
Which when He vents, the Peoples voyce is than,
This is the voyce of God, and not of Man!

Against Fortune-tellers, commonly called, Wise-men.

Sith all our Knowledge from our Senses comes,
which oft mistake, then must our Wisedome needs

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Mistake, as oft as Error ouer-comes
our Knowledge, that from erring Sense proceedes.

Then all our Wisedome must be most vnsure,
as are the grounds from whence the same doth grow;
Yet some great Wise men hardly can endure
that God should know that, which they do not know.

And, sith they know, they know not as they ought;
more then they ought they seeme to know, at least;
These are the Wise-men that by Fooles are sought,
to shew euents to come to giue them rest:
On whom they doe bestow a Wise-mans see,
Which these wise Seers, onely, doe fore-see.

Sinfull Curiositie had rather be acquainted with the Diuell, then with God, or his Saints.

Haue any made a Cou'nant with blacke Hell,
and are Familiar with infernall Sprights?
They shall be sought to, wheresoe'er they dwell;
for, many Soules desire to see those sights.

But liues Elias (most familiar
with God and Heau'n) where great ones most frequent,
He liues as in his firie Coach he were;
for, none comes neere so meere an Innocent.

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Thus doth the Diuell Lord it o'er the Aire,
and those that most doe prize It; while his slaues
Are more sought to then Saints or Angels faire,
though such Fiends bideing be among the graues:
Then, what so senselesse, as the World, to take
Delight in Diu'ls, and in Hell, for their sake?

Againe, of the same.

Were Bacon, and that Vandermast aliue,
(if liue they did where Men might draw but Aire)
They, with a mischiefe, wold much more than thriue;
for, they would smothred be with Mens repaire.

Some Bladuds would inuest them with their Robes,
nay, Crowne them too, to learne them but to flye:
That so they might but glide about the Globes,
to be admir'd for Iack-dawes qualitie.

So much Men, singularitie affect,
that to be singular, (though but in Toyes)
They'l freely giue what they doe most respect;
so much their inward Man, loues outward Ioyes:
Nay, Men to Hell will creep from out the Croude,
Ere they'l be drowned in the Multitude.

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That Persecutors of Truth, are their owne Tormentors.

If Vertues Sonnes be plagu'd with Vices Broode,
(sith they, by Nature, still doe disagree)
It's for the vicious plague, and vertuous good;
which both shall here, or else-where, shortly see.

If our good life, our Enemies encrease,
that bad encrease, in that great good, is drown'd;
Who fight against themselues, but for our Peace;
and, through our Weeds, their Hearts and Soules do wound!

Our Sauiour, through his Death, did Death subdue,
to make vs conquer by enduring strife:
Then, what though They, to Death, doe vs pursue,
when, through our Death, they dye to giue vs life?
But with such proofes, none but such Saints are prou'd
That of his Iudge, in death, was fear'd and lou'd.

The righteous, in Ioy or Griefe, Life, or Death, God keepes as his Treasure.

Fell Malice most of her owne Poison drinkes;
for them she plagues, doe sippe but of the toppe;

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But she of that, which to the Bottome sinckes,
to worke in Her Perdition, without Hope.

Impietie and Plagues are of an age;
being burnt, not in the Hand, but in the Heart:
For, who against the good doe battaile wage,
shall perish through his pow'r that takes their part.

And, if, for vertue, Men are made away,
God takes for sacrifice, their sufferings:
But when, by course of Nature, they decay,
he then receiues them as Peace-offerings:
So that in life and death, the righteous rest,
As th'Apple of his Eye, as safe, as blest.

That mens Deuotions towards God and Goodnesse, are most mutable.

Nought in our Life endures so many Turnes,
as our Deuotion; off, on, in, and out;
Now, cold as Yee, and by and by It burnes,
scarse in one moode, while we can turne about.

If good we heare, perhaps we thinke thereon;
but be it ill, ill (past perhaps) we minde:
Thus, rowle we euer, like a thriftlesse stone,
till Death vs stay by force, or Course of kinde.

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From Sinne to Sinne, as Flies from sore to sore,
we still doe shift; the best Men, Men are still;
The worst are worse than Beasts, to kill, or store;
for, they are leaue in good, but fat in ill:
Then blest are they, that neyther fat nor leaue,
Haue rowl'd to Rest, but with the Golden-meane.

To my most honored and approued best Friend, and Alye, Sr. Fran: Louell, Knight.

God takes the Will for the Deede.

Although we doe not all the good we loue,
but still, in loue, desire to doe the same;
Nor leaue the Sinnes we hate; but, bating, moue
our Soule and Bodyes Pow'rs their force to tame;

The good wee doe, God takes as done aright;
that we desire to doe, He takes as done:
The Sinne we shunne, He will with Grace requite;
and not impute the Sinne we seeke to shunne!

But good Desires produce no worser Deedes;
for, God doth both together (lightly) giue:
Because He knowes a righteous Man must needes
by Faith that workes by Loue, for euer liue:
then, to doe nought, but onely in desire,
Is Loue that burnes, but burnes like painted fire.

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The Vertuous, liue well for Vertues sake; the Vicious, for feare of Punishment.

Three things, in Iudgement, haue obserued bin,
to work with wicked ones, shame, griefe, & feare:
And yet without shame, griefe, or feare, they sinne,
till Iudgement (strict) beginneth to appeare.

If Iudgement then, haue force t'extort these three;
they haue no Iudgement, that will not preuent
This sore Extortion, with an easie see;
that is, liue well; if not, then, well repent.

But are these two performed with such ease?
Gods Yeake is easie, and his burden light:
And such as cannot well away with these,
can neyther liue well, nor repent aright:
But it they cannot, much lesse can they beare,
What Iudgement wil extort, shame, griefe, & feare.

That there is no peace to the Wicked.

The Wickeds rest is like the raging Deepe,
whose smoothest Peace is rough intestine War:

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With whose Alar'ms they often start in sleepe;
whose Heart-strings, with such fretting Stops, doe iarre

Yet as the Sea seemes calme, as other Brookes,
till Windes arise, wherewith they rage as mad;
So, oft the Wicked-man as smoothly lookes
in prosperous state, as he whom God doth glad.

And in this plight, he Saint it can aswell
(at least in shew) as can the holiest Saint:
Yea, can (for glory) in Good-workes excell;
and, Pietie in Word and Deed depaint:
But when Afflictions flawes beginne to blow,
He playes the Diuell both in Deed and Show.

That a vexed Conscience is the onely Hell on Earth.

The Bodies rest doth most disease the Soule,
that is diseased with Sinnes sorest Sting:
For then the Thoughts about that Pricke doe roule,
and to the Soule an Hell of Horror bring!

The Minde then looking into Fancies Mirrour,
sees nothing there but Sinne that sits a-Broode
On grimme Chimæraes, and sights full of horror,
so to confound the Minde, or mad her mood.

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For, when Sinne onely fronts the Phantasie;
that Glasse reflects these horrid Formes, by kinde,
Then, when the body most alone doth lye,
these Monsters muster most about the Minde.
O! Plague of plagues, when Sense nor Reas'n can spye
A Reall Obiect from a Phantasie!

Phantasie a great Comforter, or Tormenter.

Giue me Iobs Botches, Naamans Leprosie,
nay, giue me All that plagues the outward sense,
Rather then Terrors of the Phantasie,
crawling from out an Hell of Conscience.

And giue me all the Hels the Damn'd endure,
(this Hell alone excepted) I will be
Able to make them Heau'ns, in Conscience pure,
through Operations of the Phantasie.

Asleepe, awake, in Company, alone,
past-vnderstanding Peace, and Ioyes past Ioy,
In our Mindes Kingdome, then, themselues enthrone,
to ouer-sway the Paines that Flesh annoy:
Then, is this Peace and War, true Heau'n & Hell,
Where Paine and Pleasure doe themselues excell.

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A wounded Conscience, who can beare?

Salues , Sores doe cure; and Medicines, Maladies:
Friendship, Oppression; Wised me, poore Estate:
Fauour, Restraint; and Time, Captiuities;
Good life, Reproch; and louing Manners, Hate:

But, these, nor ought else, that are blest, or best,
(except the Highest grace) haue pow'r to cure
A wounded spirit (with Sadnesse still opprest)
but It doth Death out-liue, and Hell out dure.

Were our Meate, Manna, our Weedes, Salomons;
Monarchies. our Friends; and Eden, our Free-bold;
Our Guardes, Goliahs; our Seates, highst Thrones;
our Houses Siluer, hung with Pearle and Gold:
All these, and all what else can Sense delight
Doe rather kill, than cure a wounded Spirit.

Death makes Things appeare as they are.

Enuy and Anger haue some Wise-men kil'd;
(though in those Passions we hold no man wise)

As fauour and base flatt'ry Fooles haue spild;
for, with them both, we Fooles doe Nestorize.

But when these moodes are, with the Parties, dead,
then, were they Fooles, who wer so wise while-ere:
And, They most wise that Fooles were reckoned;
thus, Death doth make Things, as they are, appeare.

Flatt'ry adornes Mens Fortunes, not the Men;
and Enuy, not their Persons, but their Fames
Doth seeke to wound: so, it appeareth then,
that Wise nor Fooles haue here their proper Names:
But in the Fout of Death they doe receiue
Their naked Names which their true Natures giue.

God and Conscience tels truely what we are; and are not as we seeme.

What thou art, aske thine Hart, and it wil show;
or, aske a Foe, that Conscience makes to lie;
But aske thou not Selfe-loue which cannot know:
nor, aske a Friend, which can no fault espie.

If we could see our selues, then should we see
that we are nothing lesse then what we seeme;
Yet, some seeme farre worse than in Deed they be;
and therefore All; this Some doe not esteeme.

[61]

For, we know nothing wholy, but in part;
and, vnderstand but, what we know, by Sense:
We see the Face, but cannot see the Heart:
then showes betray our best Intelligence:
This makes all wise men, that such Secrets know,
To winne the World; a Shadow, with a Show.

That Truth, being One and still the same, is made by wicked men to countenance Falshood, which is manifold, and still vnlike

When Peace & Truth do iarre, Peace is not peace:
then, Peace, in Truth, is that we should ensue:
Now, for this Truth, what Warres and Iarres encrease,
these Times doe feele, and After-times may rue.

Yet, no Man's so vniust, that will auerre,
he fights for Falshood; but, for Truth and Right:
So, iust, some say, is eu'ry vniust Warre:
thus, Truth is made to countenance each Fight.

Who euer yet for Heresie hath dide,
but saith, for Truth he dies, and so beleeues?
Or, what Sect saith not, Truth is on their side?
so, Truth is made a Diuell, that deceiues:
But Truth is God, vnmade, who, in the end,
Will damne them all, that make him such a Fiend,

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That we are naturally bent to Ill, but supernaturally to Goodnesse.

Twixt Sinne and Grace, I tost am to, and fro,
as mine Affections please to bandy me:
From Grace, to Sinne I flye; but, backe, I goe;
and yet I goe as one that faine would flee.

Nature doth moue the Wings of my Desire
to Sinne wards nimbly; but, not so to Grace:
For, then she limes them with my fleshes myre,
that I am forc'd to passe an heauy pace.

Yet still I stirre those Wings, and seeke to breake
faile fleshes Bands; too strong, for me (too fraile)
Who though, sometimes, I faile of what I seeke,
yet seeke I what I finde, and neuer faile:
For, none seekes Grace that hath not Grace in hold:
Then, Seekers find, though oft lesse then they would.

Abuse is familiar with humane Flesh and Bloud.

Minding this World, I muse at what I minde,
though It vnworthy be of Minde or Muse:

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I muse that Men are to It so inclinde,
sith It mindes nought, but how Men to abuse.

From high to low Abuse doth proudly raigne;
from which the Preist, that leads all, is not free:
The Holy hold the Holy in disdaine,
if with their state, their states doe not agree.

Vertue, or Vice are held or good or ill,
as, in this World, they thriue or ill, or well:
For, Vice is honor'd more then Vertue still,
if Vices Mannors, Vertues doe excell:
If Manors good, doe what good Maners ought,
(That's make men great) great men are made of nought.

That it is farre better not Be, then to be Ill.

The World (the Wombe where all misdeeds are bred)
breedes in my little-World such great offence,
That my Soule, great with Sinne's deliuered
of Griefe, that gaules my bleeding Conscience:

The Mid-wife Flesh, that did the same produce,
giues it the Nurse, curst Nature, it to feede:
And fattens It with full-Breasts of Abuse;
so, Griefe growes great, with Natures grosse misdeeds.

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O Nature, Nurse of my Soules foule Disgrace!
ô World, the Nurse of that Nurse (grounds of grief)
Why doe you giue me being, time, and place
sith you doe worse then kill me with reliefe?
For, that reliefe that doth but nourish Sinne,
Makes our Case worse, then if we ne'er had bin.

Sinne and Grace cannot dwell in one place.

If Faith beleeu'd that Creede that Essence giues her,
then would she giue the Soule what that doth giue:
Faith's made to know, and doe that which relieues her;
for, by her actiue knowledge she doth liue!

But oft the Soule (though Faith be still her Ghest)
makes Sinne her Steward to prouide her Foode:
How then can Faith such banefull Bits digest,
which but contaminate her vitall Bloud?

Can Faith and Sinne (if they be full in force)
dwell (as if friends they were) in one weake Heart?
No: one will other from the same diuorce;
for, Sou'raignes part with life, ere Lordship part:
Then, want of Faith, with grosse Sin is supplide;
For, Nature vacuum could ne'er abide.

[170]

In rainy-gloomy Weather.

This Weather's like my troubled Minde and Eyes:
the one, being sad; the other, full of Teares;
And, as Winde oft the often Showrings dryes:
so, Sighes my Teares dry vp, and kindle Cares.

Sighes please, and paine the displeas'd painfull Heart;
they please in giuing vent to Griefes vp-pent;
And yet the Heart, they ease, they cause to smart:
so, Griefes encrease as Sighes doe giue them vent.

But were my Minde thus sad but for my Crimes,
and mine Eyes turn'd to Teares for cause so deare;
Or, did my Heart for that sith often-times,
my Sighes, my Teares, my Sadnesse blessed were:
But tis, sith Hope, my Ship, through Fates crosse-waue,
Now grates vpon the Grauell of my Graue.

Our Wits are vnable to please our Wils.

This Life is but a Laborynth of Ils,
whose many Turnings so amaze our Mindes:

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that out of Them our Wit no issue findes,
But what our Sense commands, our Wit fulfils.

Yet Sense (being tired with deceitfull Ioyes
that fleete as soone as felt) prouokes the Wit
to cast about those Turnes to pleasure it,
Which findes new Pleasures lin'd with old Annoyes.

So, that when Sense and Wit are at a Stand
in quest of Pleasures vaine variëty,
they are so cloid with their saciëtie,
That Will is wearyed with her owne Command:
Thus, in this Life, or Laborynth of Ils,
We toile our Wits in vaine, to please our Wils.

To my most deare, and no lesse worthily-beloued Friend and Pupill, Henry Mainwarring Esquier, with the truely-noble and venterous Knight Sr. Henry Thynne, accompanying, into Persia, the meritoriously-farre-renowmed Knight, Sr. Robert Sherley, Englishman; yet, Lord Ambassadour sent from the great Persian Potentate, to all Christian Princes, for the good of Christendome.

Heroicke Pupill, and most honor'd Friend,
to thee, as to my Moitie, I bequeath
Halfe th'other halfe; beginning, at mine end,
to make (I hope) me triumph ouer Death.

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My Sonne (sole Sonne; and, all I euer had)
vnto thy Care and Seruice I commend;
So, make me Sonnelesse, till you make me glad
with your Returne from this Worlds further end.

The Absence of so deare a Sonne as thou,
must needes affect thine honor'd Sire with Griefe;
But, for thy good, he doth his Griefe subdue:
so, doe I mine, by his, sith his is chiefe:
Then, with my Sonne, take thou my Hart and these
Celestiall Charmes, in Stormes, to calme the Seas.

Rob not the Poore, because he is poore; neyther wrong him in Iudgement.

Pro. 22. 22.

Though Words with Wisedome richly be attirde,
yet, if their Speaker be not rich withall,
They will be rather scorned, then admir'd;
or thought, through Enuyes spight most criminall.

But Words pronounced by Authoritie,
(though no Authoritie doth them approue)
Are held for Oracles of Deitie;
and, quoted, as rich Scriptures, Truth to proue!

Thus Wisedome rare, without a Fortune rich,
is a rich Gift that gets but poore regard:
For, Wisedomes lowest voyce, or highest Pitch,
if her Pipe be but meane, can ne'er be heard:

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For, the Worlds Eares, though wide, no voyce can heare
That comes not from a Pipe, as deare as cleare.

To my worthy, witty, long-approued, and beloued Friend, Mris Ioyce Ieffreies.

Let vs heare the end: Feare God, and keepe his Commandements: for this is the whole duty of man. Eccles. 12. 13.

Many a weary Winter haue I past
since first our eyes strange-lookes did interchange:
But now (deare Friend, that is; as kinde, as fast)
Time, in Lifes Reere, or vitall-Powres doth range.

My Layes of Loue, are now turn'd all to Psalmes
and Hymnes addrest to Heau'n; which my yong dayes
Did most offend: Then, now, I craue this Almes,
that thou, for me, on These, our God wilt praise.

When Time, and Thwarts haue taught the humbled-sp'rit
that all, saue loue and feare of God, is vaine;
By Grace and Nature we take most delight
in paines, which may preuent eternall paine:
Then, if thy Will doe match thy Wit (deare Friend)
On these Feete maist thou trauell to that END.

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The Conclvsion.

Lo here an end of these our Muses Flights,
which aymed at Mans End, or chiefest GOOD;
But if too wilde shee were, in heau'nly Heights,
let her be made to know it, by the Whood.

If her Desire too high hath made her rise,
(though lesse than God contents not that Desire)
Of Christ, and of his Church she mercy cryes;
and, humbly, stoupes to what they doe require.

Yea, prostrate, she doth fall; nay, vailes her Necke
vnder his Spouse (the Church) her sacred Feete;
Submitting all her Soarings to her Checke;
and ready to reforme what shee thinkes meete:
If she hath rightly fled, God made that Flight:
If not, she prayes the Church to make it right.

But, knew I ought offensiue to her Eare,
My Teares should blot It, yer It mended were.