 | Pietatis Lachrymae Teares of deuotion |  |
Teares Efficacy, and Sinnes pardon.
Or Mary Magdalens Lachrymæ.
When
Anna wept the teares ran down amaine,
From forth the Flud-gates of her watry eyes:
When Agar wept that water she might gaine,
Teares, sobbes, & sighes were onely Sacrifice.
When Susan falsly was condemn'd to dye,
Her innocent true teares did peirce the skye.
From forth the Flud-gates of her watry eyes:
When Agar wept that water she might gaine,
Teares, sobbes, & sighes were onely Sacrifice.
When Susan falsly was condemn'd to dye,
Her innocent true teares did peirce the skye.
They had the things that they with teares required,
Oh who can tell the force of such true teares?
Wonder of wonders, for to be admired,
Since eyes, as keyes doe open mercies eares.
Neuer came wretch to God with true contrition,
But did obtaine, so it were iust petition.
Oh who can tell the force of such true teares?
Wonder of wonders, for to be admired,
Since eyes, as keyes doe open mercies eares.
Neuer came wretch to God with true contrition,
But did obtaine, so it were iust petition.
Sad humble teare, shed by a soule diuine,
What maist thou not account of as thine owne?
wilt thou a kingdom? why? heau'ns kingdom's thine
wilt thou a seate: thou hast the Lābes bright throne.
Wilt thou be stronge? let one teare, heau'n be sent
And it shall doombe all hell to banishment.
What maist thou not account of as thine owne?
wilt thou a kingdom? why? heau'ns kingdom's thine
wilt thou a seate: thou hast the Lābes bright throne.
Wilt thou be stronge? let one teare, heau'n be sent
And it shall doombe all hell to banishment.
Meate for the soule thou art, strength for the sence,
Guerdon of Vertue, Assosiate of Grace;
The blotter out of vice and great offence,
The Font that Lauers filth from foulest face.
The drinke and repast of the penitent,
Swift billow, wafting to amendement.
Guerdon of Vertue, Assosiate of Grace;
The blotter out of vice and great offence,
The Font that Lauers filth from foulest face.
The drinke and repast of the penitent,
Swift billow, wafting to amendement.
Best health of new-returning innocence,
The Angell foode of reconsiliation;
Chiefe ioy of an appeased conscience,
And the stronge hope of soules election.
The Odour of the ioyes of blisse to come,
The best companion in the day of doombe.
The Angell foode of reconsiliation;
Chiefe ioy of an appeased conscience,
And the stronge hope of soules election.
The Odour of the ioyes of blisse to come,
The best companion in the day of doombe.
Since teares are of such force, who wold not weep?
And weeping weep for sin, with teares an Ocean:
A floud within his heart who would not keep?
To drench the entrance of each sinfull motion.
Yes saies my soule, Lord of my soule I will,
Mary that most hath need will weep her fill.
And weeping weep for sin, with teares an Ocean:
A floud within his heart who would not keep?
To drench the entrance of each sinfull motion.
Yes saies my soule, Lord of my soule I will,
Mary that most hath need will weep her fill.
Close thou thine eyes, ô righteous Jeremye,
Let not thy teares lament the faults of other,
My sighes, my sobs, my eyes, my Lachrymæ,
Shall wash my soule, & my soules-sinnes discouer.
I, onely I my selfe, my selfe alone,
Will wash in teares and my huge sinne bemone.
Let not thy teares lament the faults of other,
My sighes, my sobs, my eyes, my Lachrymæ,
Shall wash my soule, & my soules-sinnes discouer.
I, onely I my selfe, my selfe alone,
Will wash in teares and my huge sinne bemone.
Michah, why weep'st thou, said the men of warre?
Why dost thou vs pursue? is not all well?
Why hast thou strayed from thy home so farre?
Nay sigh not grieued man but quickelie tell.
My God (quoth he) whome I with care did keep,
Ye'aue stolne from me, and aske ye why I weep?
Why dost thou vs pursue? is not all well?
Why hast thou strayed from thy home so farre?
Nay sigh not grieued man but quickelie tell.
My God (quoth he) whome I with care did keep,
Ye'aue stolne from me, and aske ye why I weep?
Michah with grieued heart doth much lament,
The losse of his forg'd-fained-golden God:
And shall not flouds of teares of me be spent,
For losse of him that was my liues abode?
Shall Michah waile his losse, and shall not I?
Yes, while I liue Ile weepe, and weeping dye.
The losse of his forg'd-fained-golden God:
And shall not flouds of teares of me be spent,
For losse of him that was my liues abode?
Shall Michah waile his losse, and shall not I?
Yes, while I liue Ile weepe, and weeping dye.
The nimble Hart when he's beset with Hound,
Seeing no way te'scape pale greedy death:
Before he feele the first life-killing wound,
Weeps out a groane, & then yeelds ayre his breath;
And makes the Hūters hart (though hard as stone)
By reason of his sighes, his death to moane.
Seeing no way te'scape pale greedy death:
Before he feele the first life-killing wound,
Weeps out a groane, & then yeelds ayre his breath;
And makes the Hūters hart (though hard as stone)
By reason of his sighes, his death to moane.
Shall this milde Hart (O Mary) full of euils
Sigh foorth the farewell of his liues decay?
And shalt not thou that art beset with Deuils,
That rent thy soule as rauenous dogs their pray?
Yes I will weep sigh, sob, and neuer cease,
Till heau'n haue mercy, and my sinnes release.
Sigh foorth the farewell of his liues decay?
And shalt not thou that art beset with Deuils,
That rent thy soule as rauenous dogs their pray?
Yes I will weep sigh, sob, and neuer cease,
Till heau'n haue mercy, and my sinnes release.
If holy Dauid did so much lament,
Th'vntimely death of his rebellious Sonne:
If he vpon the dead corpes these words spent,
O losse! ô Absalon! ô Absalon!
Then needly must I weeping say each houre,
O losse! no losse to my soules Sauiour.
Th'vntimely death of his rebellious Sonne:
If he vpon the dead corpes these words spent,
O losse! ô Absalon! ô Absalon!
Then needly must I weeping say each houre,
O losse! no losse to my soules Sauiour.
As was the sound of Aarons siluer bell,
Whose sweet alarum caus'd each man to heare:
So Mary let thy griefes sin-weeping knell,
Rung by the vertue of an harty teare,
Sound such a lowd, and dolefull pleasing ditty,
That it may mooue thy God, thy woes to pitty.
Whose sweet alarum caus'd each man to heare:
So Mary let thy griefes sin-weeping knell,
Rung by the vertue of an harty teare,
Sound such a lowd, and dolefull pleasing ditty,
That it may mooue thy God, thy woes to pitty.
Few drops (men say) force hard stones asunder,
Not by compulsion but by often fall:
See! stubborne stones to moyst drops yeeld; ô wonder!
And shall not God, when teares for mercy call?
Sinnes teares; almost (mee thinkes, the very name,
Should be sufficient for to blot my shame.
Not by compulsion but by often fall:
See! stubborne stones to moyst drops yeeld; ô wonder!
And shall not God, when teares for mercy call?
Sinnes teares; almost (mee thinkes, the very name,
Should be sufficient for to blot my shame.
O therefore hye thee wretched Magdalen,
To him that sinne hath power to forgiue:
Intreate him clense thy foule defy led den,
Desire to dye to sinne, in him to liue.
Let not thy God, from Simons boord be risen,
Till thou vnto thy God be trulie shriuen.
To him that sinne hath power to forgiue:
Intreate him clense thy foule defy led den,
Desire to dye to sinne, in him to liue.
Let not thy God, from Simons boord be risen,
Till thou vnto thy God be trulie shriuen.
As an inraged colde tane in thy brest,
If it continue, prooues but little good:
So will thy sinne disturber of thy rest,
If thou to greater sinne dost let sinne bud.
O therefore take thy time, while time thou may,
For who can tell, how swift time glides away.
If it continue, prooues but little good:
So will thy sinne disturber of thy rest,
If thou to greater sinne dost let sinne bud.
O therefore take thy time, while time thou may,
For who can tell, how swift time glides away.
Nor be not thou asham'd before them all,
Of thy vilde sinne to make confession:
But bend thy knee, and bid thy salt teares call,
Of thy great sinne to haue remission.
Deferre no time, no weeke, no day, no houre,
But pleade with teare, best pleading Oratour.
Of thy vilde sinne to make confession:
But bend thy knee, and bid thy salt teares call,
Of thy great sinne to haue remission.
Deferre no time, no weeke, no day, no houre,
But pleade with teare, best pleading Oratour.
Confesse (I say) with a true broken heart
(For who can tell the force of such confession?)
Thy sinne, and by thy sinne, thy iust desert,
And for the same thy soules contrition,
With such confession learne for to accord,
For such regaines thy now lost liuing Lord.
(For who can tell the force of such confession?)
Thy sinne, and by thy sinne, thy iust desert,
And for the same thy soules contrition,
With such confession learne for to accord,
For such regaines thy now lost liuing Lord.
It ioyes the Saints, make cleare the conscience,
Cancels the bond of sinne, it's hope of pardon:
It's Brideler of feare, best pleasing incense,
Heau'n opening key, sweet satisfaction.
Best motiue moouing thy dull soule to rise,
From wretched earth, to blessed Paradise.
Cancels the bond of sinne, it's hope of pardon:
It's Brideler of feare, best pleasing incense,
Heau'n opening key, sweet satisfaction.
Best motiue moouing thy dull soule to rise,
From wretched earth, to blessed Paradise.
Iesu I thirst, but not for Dauids draught,
Not of the Cisterne of Philistines spring:
Tis not that water though so dearely bought,
That any comfort to my heart can bring.
That which the Angels loue, and Saints require,
That holy water doth my soule desire.
Not of the Cisterne of Philistines spring:
Tis not that water though so dearely bought,
That any comfort to my heart can bring.
That which the Angels loue, and Saints require,
That holy water doth my soule desire.
Open thy gate kinde hearted Pharise,
Oh giue me way, and leaue to enter in:
That I may prostrate, humbly on my knee,
Shew to my God the greatnes of my sinne
On stage of blacke, the Actor be my heart,
My soule the Chorus, and my sinne the part.
Oh giue me way, and leaue to enter in:
That I may prostrate, humbly on my knee,
Shew to my God the greatnes of my sinne
On stage of blacke, the Actor be my heart,
My soule the Chorus, and my sinne the part.
O but (saith one) art not thou Magdalen,
Notorious for thy sinne in this our Citty?
Yes sure I am; will ye not therefore open?
May not a sinners teares mooue ye to pitty?
Whose that saith Christ? Mary shews her repentance:
O let her in; thus mercy giues me entrance.
Notorious for thy sinne in this our Citty?
Yes sure I am; will ye not therefore open?
May not a sinners teares mooue ye to pitty?
Whose that saith Christ? Mary shews her repentance:
O let her in; thus mercy giues me entrance.
Woman come foorth saith he, stand not behinde,
May I a wretch (O Lord) obtaine such fauour?
Mercy to penitents is alway kinde,
O kinde Phisition! say on my Sauiour.
For neuer shall these teares of me be spent,
Till thou bid rise, sinne pardon'd penitent.
May I a wretch (O Lord) obtaine such fauour?
Mercy to penitents is alway kinde,
O kinde Phisition! say on my Sauiour.
For neuer shall these teares of me be spent,
Till thou bid rise, sinne pardon'd penitent.
Pardon thou hast, be free from Sathans den,
Arise, and sinne no more: good God Amen.
Arise, and sinne no more: good God Amen.
| Pietatis Lachrymae Teares of deuotion | |