Mel Heliconium :: :: University of Virginia Library

O if my mournfull eyes
Could from their Chrystall casements tears distill!
O if sad Elegies
Dipp'd in salt fountains could drop from my quill!
O if I could in Seas of tears
Drown all my sorrows and my fears!

2

For when alas I see
How these three sister-Graces sit and grone,
Faith, Hope, and Charity,
And weep their wrongs, and threaten to be gone
From Christs poor Church, how can I chuse
But mourn with this my mourning Muse.

173

3

Faiths cloud-transcending eye,
Thick mists of Verball combates do so blinde,
That scarse can she descry
The light from darknesse, and scarse can she finde
Her Sun (which makes her so lament)
Shining within his firmament.

4

She makes a grievous mone,
That she is wrong'd 'twixt Infidelity
And Superstition,
Against the Laws of Christianity;
The one with false fears makes her cry.
The other would pull out her eye.

5

The swelling Pharisie
Kicks her with his suppos'd perfection,
And wrangling Heresie
Would poyson her with strong infection;
She is despised of the Jew,
And laugh'd at by the heathen-crew.

6

The wanton Libertine
Hath stript her of good works, her ornaments;
And thus the fairest queen
Of graces is abus'd by miscreants:
Now would not this make hearts of stone
Wring out a tear, and strain a grone.

7

Her sister Hope also
Complains she's wrong'd by Desperation,
And by her other foe,
Bold-fac'd, self-will'd Presumption;
They pull and hale with violence
The Anchor of her Confidence.

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8

With ghastly looks Despair,
With horrid thoughts, and with blasphemous words,
With uncomposed hair,
Armed with poyson, halters, knives and swords,
Doth threaten that she'l choke the breath
Of Hope with some untimely death.

9

And fond Presumption
Belyes poor Hope, and saith that she's the cause
Of lust, ambition,
Of pride, and of the breach of all Gods Laws:
So th'one, Gods Mercie doth reject,
The other doth his Justice check.

10

Thus Christian Hope is toss'd
Between two rocks, and in the sinking sands,
Her Anchor's almost lost;
Therefore she sighs, and weeps, and wrings her hands;
None but whose eyes are Adamant
Can see this sight, and not lament.

11

And as for Charity,
How is she hiss'd at, by a barbarous croud?
And this her misery
She doth lament, wrapt in a sable cloud;
And threatens that she will be gone
With speed out of this freezing Zone.

12

Where black-mouth'd obloquy,
And squinting self-consuming envie reigns:
Where brawling loves to be,
Where murther with gore blood the country stains;
Where Schisme with false opinion
Disturbs the Churches union.

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13

Where barbarous Mars resides
Lord of mis-rule and desolation,
And by whose bloody sides,
Burning, rapes, ruine, rage, and oppression,
Ride galloping, and furiously
Tread down Laws, Arts, Civility.

14

Where discord, pride, scandall,
Teeth-grinding anger, with fierce-glowing eyes,
Where thefts and treasons dwell:
Church-robbing, cheating, self-love, cruelties;
This is that wicked company,
All enemies to Charity.

15

What wonder is it then,
If Charity be sad, and discontent,
And hides her self from men?
Amongst whom reigns this hellish Regiment?
How can Joves lovely daughter dwell
Amongst such monsters hatcht in hell?

16

O how my heart doth burn,
And melt into a tide of tears, mine eyes!
How night and day I mourn
To see such wars, such wrongs, such cruelties,
And love exil'd, which was as we
All know, Christ's Will and Legacie?

17

O Lord confound all those
Who would confound our peace and unity,
And trample on the face
Of thy three daughters, Faith, Hope, Charity,
And let them in thy Church bear sway
So long as evening crowns the day.

176

18

Lord give me Faiths cleer eye,
And Hopes sure Anchor to rely upon,
And hands of Charity,
That I may work out my salvation;
And with this Anchor, hands and eye,
Let me in peace and comfort dye.

19

And let the good ship ride
Call'd Charity, securely on the main;
Be Pilot Lord, and guide
Her to the cape of good Hope; let her gain
The land of promise, with the gale
Of thy good Spirit fill her sail.

20

And let her Compasse be
Thy Word, and with the helm of Discipline
From sinfull rocks keep me,
And let the Pole-star of thy truth be seen;
Let Faith the bright eye of my soul
Be alwayes looking on that Pole.

21

The man of thy right hand
Preserve Lord as the apple of thine eye;
And from this sinfull land
Let not true love with her two sisters flye:
But as it's name is Albion,
So in it still let all be one.