University of Virginia Library

A Passion.

What greefe, what anguish great,
What black and bitter baill,
So hurts and harmes my heavie heart,
And never makes to haill?
What hudge misfortunes mee,
Confounds, defaits, and foiles,
What daft desire, like flamm's of fire,
Within my bowels boyls?
What subtill slight desaits,
What trains my soule to trap?
What wicked wiles my will invents,
Me Wretch in woe to wrap?
What lubrick pleasant showes,
With false impoysoned baits,
My fond fantastick fancie finds,
To sensuall consaits?
What wylde corrupted thoughts,
As from their rute and stock,
Out of my heart, like armies hudge,
About my braine doe flock?
What hundreth thousand ill's,
From that first sinfull seeds,
Into my minde immur'd alace,
All bad abuses breeds?
What willingnes to vice?
What forwardnesse to fall?
What prompnes to trespasse is nur-
ced in my naturall?
VVhat readinesse to stray,
VVhat rage from right to rin,
A beastlie bygate to embrace,
The sink of shame and sin?
VVhat inward foolish force,
VVhat inclinations ill,
Into my endlesse errors ay
Makes me continue still?
Or what a madnesse is't,
That but remorse or feare,
I with my God almost, his Word
And will reveild I weir.
Who in his Wisdome hes
All Natures made of naught,
And ilk a Creature and kind,
Their severall courses taught.
The Bodies all aboue,
The spheir and cirled Heauen,
He maks rin restlesse round about,
As violentlie drawen.
The sure and solid Ground,
Just placed lik a prick,
In mids alike vnmoueable,
Does still and stable stick.
With both the sorts of Seas,
Embrodered about,
That still does brash and beat their banks,
With many roar and rout.
He all aboue the Earth,
The Region of the Air,
Right properlie appointed for
His Palace did prepare.
Although the Heaven of Heavens,
Most polished perfite,
His Grace and Godhood not contains,
Full glorious, and grite.
For in the Earth and Deeps,
And Firmament most fair,
His blessed Sprit and Essence is,
Ov'r all and everie-where.
He all and everie thing,
H'apointed hes and plac'd;
And what his Providence perform'd,
Is nothing void nor waist.
The thrid and highest Heaven,
Great GOD he did ordaine,
For Angels, and the blessed Band,
A mansion to remaine.
The subtle Air belowe,
And Firmament for Fowles,
The deadlie Deepe, and black Abyss,
For damned sprits and soules.
For fleeting finned Fish,
Fresh Waters, Floods and Seas:
For savage, wilde, and bloody Beastes,
He planted Parks and Trees.
Yet of those all the vse,
As Nature taught, we ken.
He hes appointed for supplie,
And nurishment to men,
And sapentlie hes set
In season ilk a sort,
And all things as he thinks it good,
Provids for their support.
All formes of Fishe the Floods,
Her eating Flesh the Field,
All healthsome Fowles for foode, the Air,
He hes ordain'd to yeeld.
The Glob ætheriall,
And closse compacted spheir,
He peopled hes with lightsome lamps,
The streaming starr's, and cleir.
Some of those litler Lights,
But steiring steadfast stay,
And some their circled courses change,
And alter erring ay.
And such like Hee hes set
These ornaments amang,
That through the voults of Cristall skyes,
Full gleglie glansing gang.
Twa-glimsing golden Globes,
With bodies broad and bright,
The Greater for to guide the day,
The Lesse to rule the night.
The silver Cynthia,
Doeth both incresse and waine
Into a Month: and Phœbus course
A yeare concludes againe.
The twise two Elements,
And everie other thing;
Abers not by thair limit bounds,
Be th'All-creating-King.
Bot onl'vnthankfull man
Tho to his vse alone,
Great good and gratious God did all,
Befoir exprest, compone:
Zit all the Creatures,
That He hes made amang,
Man only know's the right and zit,
Does walk awry, and wrang,