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Songs of Sion

Set for the ioy of gods deere ones, vvho sitt here by the brookes of this vvorlds Babel, & vveepe vvhen they thinke on Hierusalem vvhich is on highe. By W. L. [i.e. William Loe]

Loe, William

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An hymne or song. Of seauen straines, or strings set to the tone of seaven sobs, and sighes of a seaven times seauen sad soule for sinne

A months minde.

To him that made these Hymnes.

To him that made these hymns

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A months minde.

To Thinke on death, & muse on the graue, that the feare of death may not be fierce vvhen Christ shall call vs out of this vvorld

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& is to be song in the tune of.

I sayd I vvill looke to my vvaie Psalm XXXIX.

O death I vvill be thy death (saith Christ) for he is the death of death, the death of sinne, the life of man, & the breath of god for man to liue there in vvorld vvith out end.

Hamborough Januarij 24. 1620.

To his much respected good frend Mr. THOMAS BARKER one of the assistants of the worthy cōpanie of the Marchants Aduenturers residing at Hamborough. The blessing of both vvorlds in Christ Iesus.

The first muse.

1

O eare soule thou hast thought of thy end
And novve muse on the vvay,
The first part is a life vvell spent,
The last is deaths doomes day.

2

Shall I call that the vvay of vvoe
By vvhich vve passe to blisse?
O sure there is noe vvay but that
To bring me vvhere Christ is.

3

And vvhat is death novve dost thou thinke?
But dovvne vvith all the stickes,
Of vvhich this earth, & tent of ours
Is made, that gainst god kickes.

4

Death is the farevvell of old frends,
Till they meete to be blest,
Death is the iudge to quitt frō iayle,
The soule that longs for rest.

5

Death makes the corps of clay to sleep
But vvakes the soule to see,
Death payes the debte, & teares the bone
And all to sett thee free.

6

There is a death of deaths my soule
The death of hell, and vvoe,
But Christ his death hath payd for that
His vvord doth tell thee soe.

7

O Christ my soule doth thinke on thee
And thankes thee day, and night
That thou hast rid me frō this death
By thy great povver, and might.

1. Thought.

Thy Christ o soule hath set them free vvho through feare of death vvere all their life time in bonds and thrall. Heb. 2. 15.

The second muse.

1

O muse my soule sith thou art safe,
Get home ene to thy rest,
For god to praise in songs, & psalmes
I hold it for the best.

2

My soule hovve canst thou feare to goe
In stepps vvhere Christ hath bine;
He hath to graue led thee the vvay
O then leaue of to sinne.

3

For hire of sinne is death, and graue
To death are deepe fell vvayes;
There needs noe kinues, noe cords, noe svvords,
It comes on nights, and dayes.

4

One by a slatt, a flye, a grape,
One by a bit of meate
One by the ayre, a flovver, a thorne
Comes to his doome so great.

5

Why then my soule feare not this death,
The sting of it is lost
The bed of graue is svveete, and safe
Through Christ his care, & cost.

6

Our sinne made death our foe at last
Our frend Christ hath it made;
By death vve pass the port of rest
When all things else doe fade.

7

What if this giude doe lead my corps
Through graue both darke & fell?
Whiles at that tyme my soule doth liue
And vvith my Christ doth dvvell.

2. Thought.

O my soule ioy, & be glad for thy Christ hath made thee say to death, o death vvhere is thy death, o graue vvhere is thy povver. 1. Cor. 15. 55.

The third muse.

1

What if my frends doe mourne for me
And sobb, and sigh in moane;
What if my seed doe crie, and roare,
And greeue, and vvaile, and grone?

2

This vvhile my soule sees him that vvas
Once dead but novve doth liue,
And that for aye my Christ in god,
My lord that life doth giue.

3

What care I vvho doth shutt mine eies
Whē death doth make me see
As I am seene of god in Christ
And then vvith him shall be.

4

What if my life the vvorld doe not
Set out in vvords of fame
Whiles I liue vvith the god of life
What care I for the same.

5

If death shovvld still be foe to me
He harmes but my vvorst part,
My best part farre out of his reach
Scornes both his ruth, and dart.

6

And more then this my corps once dead
Feeles noe more sting of death,
But then my soule is free, and liues
In god by Christ his breath.

7

Novve then my soule sith thou dost beare
Tvvo things vvrapt vp in breast
Lett each part turne, and goe, & see
His seate, his scite, his rest.

3. Thought.

O god they that dvvelt in a darke place by thee haue seene the light, & they that vvalkt in the shade of death thou hast brought them to the light vvith great ioy, & peace. Esay. 9. 2.

The fourth muse.

1

Shrinke not deare soule at sight of death
Nor faint thou at gods call
Hovve oft hast thou hard bells to passe
For frends, for foes, for all.

2

Hovve oft hast thou the sicke bede seene
Of vvights in woe most rife
Hovve oft haue things bine done to death
And all to giue thee life.

3

And canst thou hope that some vvay else
For thee is made in sence
Whē kings, & Prests, & rich, & poore
And all must thus goe hence

4

Passe on my soule, & sing, & ioy
In god that makes the graue,
A place for thee to pass to bliss
And knovves vvhat thou vvouldst haue.

5

Hovve oft hast thou seene eies fall closed
And heard by dint of svvord
Hovve oft vaine men in field haue fought
In fence of a vaine vvord

6

What thē novve dost thou feare my soule
The stage of death is bed,
And graue that rests our bones in peace
That here on earth haue fed

7

Let them feare death vvhose hart, & mind
Is more sicke thē their face
Hovve canst thou feare since novve thy Christ
Hath shed his bloud for grace.

4. Thought.

O giue me light that am set in a darke place, & shade of death, and giude, me by thy good grace o Christ to the vvay of peace. Luck. 1. 79.

The fift muse.

1

What losse is this svveet soule to loose
This corps this flesh, this skinn?
When thou shalt vvinn thy god in Christ,
Thy selfe fred from thy sinn.

2

When thou shalt see the soules the Saincts
In ioy, in rest, in blisse
Whē thou this vvorld a sea of sinne
A sinke, a stye, shalt misse?

3

Of change most blest for thee to knovve
To rid thee of these raggs,
And thy selfe clad in robes of state
In spight of death his brags.

4

This skin, this shame, this dust, this dung,
This earth, this mire, this clay
Shall shine as sunne in raies of rest
When thou shalt see that day.

5

Thine eies that vvere full sad to see
Thine oft, and ill done deeds;
Shall then see Christ still in thy sight
Where grace, & good still feeds.

6

These eares that heare the ruth & rage
Of tongue, as hott as hell;
Shall then the voice of Christ still heare
And saincts vvith him that dvvell.

7

And thē this tongue that novv doth plains
Of greefe, of vvoe, of gall
Shall tune a part in that svveet quire
With Christ, vvith saincts, vvith all.

5. Thought.

O my soule thy Christ hath tooke part vvith flesh, & bloud, that by death he might beate dovvne him that had the povver of death. Heb. 2. 14.

The sixt muse.

1

Novve vvhat is death thē say my soule
Ist not a sleepe in graue?
They that did feele the vvorst of it
The stile of sleepe it gaue.

2

And aske thy corps, o my svveet soule
Whē full vvith toyle of day,
If it hath not bine glad to rest
As cloyd vvith a foule vvay.

3

And novve in this svveete sleepe of death
Thou art sure to be blest
Why like a child vvilt thou not goe
To this thy bed thy rest?

4

Didst thou ere see a bird in cage,
Sitt still vvith in the grate?
That might flie foorth to vvoods, to groues
To meete his loue, his mate?

5

Did Paule vvhen god his gyues had burst
And rid him out of iayle?
Crie out, & say, not yet o lord
I doe not like this bayle.

6

Paule slepte tvvixt tvvo that did him keepe
But vvhē that he vvas free
And rid frō iayle did he once turne
To iayle those bonds to see.

7

O my svveete soule didst ere thou see
At sea men sing their songs?
And vvhē to lād they cāe did greeue
And tell their frends of vvrongs.

6. Thought.

O heare me o lord, my god, & giue light to mine eies least I sleepe the sleep of death. Psal. 30. 3.

The seuenth muse.

1

Hast thou o soule no mind to rest
In all thy paine, and toyle?
But vvilt thou still goe on, & drudge
By lott on sea, on soyle.

2

Hovve oft haue vvights in vvoe, & greefe
Bought death to ease their paine
Hath death found thee, & vvilt thou not
To goe from greefe be faine

3

Doth name of death the fright my soule
What if mē call sleepe death
Wilt thou be fraid to close thine eies
Or feare to loose thy breath.

4

What hurt vvill cōe to thee by that
The first man vvas in sleepe
Whē god a vvife made him for helpe
The man in ioy to keepe.

5

And vvhat if novve thy god for [illeg.]
Whilst thou dost sleepe in [illeg.]
Doth make thy soule a spouse to [illeg.]
His face, his grace to haue[illeg.]

6

My death o soule but parts the frēds
That each hath led the vvay,
And novve shake hands but for a space
Till meete in rest thy may.

7

Goe then my soule to this sure gaine
Part vvith a frend a space
The tyme vvill come vvhen this dust
Shall see thy Christ his face.

7. Thought.

The due of sinne my soule is death & graue, & hell. but the gift of god is life, ioy, and blisse by Christ my lord, & god Rom, 6. 13.

The eight muse.

1

Tell me my soule vvas thou not loth
At first to ioyne vvith me?
Why novve art loth to part vvith that,
Which much vvoe letts thee see.

2

Dost thou not heare the vvise to say,
The day of death is cheefe;
And is more good then day of birth
Which brings thee vvoe, & greefe,

3

Dost not thou trust the vvise mans vvords
On throne in state in glee,
That thus did say of death, & birth
Then harke thou once to me.

4

The lord of life that knevve deaths force
Doth say that they are blest
That die in god, our lord, our Christ
And from their vvoes haue rest.

5

O death hovve svveete is that thy rest
To vvights in vale of teares
Hovve svveete is thy grim face to those
That liue in vvoe, & feares?

6

O soule vvhat man is so fell mad,
And so in soule cast dovvne?
To hide himselfe in base things here
To loose by them a crovvne

7

My soule then see, & say in fine
With men of gods ovvne lore.
For me to die it is more good
Then liue on this ville shore.

8. Thought.

O my soule if by one mans sinne death did raigne by one, much more they vvhich haue much grace, & the gift of faith shall raigne in life by one Christ my lord and god. Rom. 5. 17.

The ninth muse.

1

What ayles thee o my soule, my deare,
Such face, such feare to shevve?
Novve death doe come to cite thee home
Is all thy faith, but devve

2

Is death soe fearce, soe fell, to eies,
To thoughts that vvas soe free;
It is a shame to thee my soule
Thou dost noe more Christ see.

3

Where is thy faith? in vvords thou couldst
Call oft for death in life
Is all but talke? is all but smoke?
Where is thy hope so rife?

4

Hath thy svveete Christ novv sent for thee
And art thou loth to goe?
Rouze vp thy selfe for shame o soule
And doe not serue him soe.

5

O lord raise vp this hart of mine
That faints, & droopes in death
O that J might thy cup once tast,
And liue in thy svveete breath.

6

The spright vvould come, but flesh is vveake
Lord helpe this guest of thine,
And rid her from this flesh of sinne
Which is a broode of mine.

7

I come to thee, o lord I come
Streach forth thine hand to me,
O death, o graue vvhere is thy sting?
My crovvne, my god I see.

9. Thought.

They are blest that haue a part in the first life for on such the last death shall haue noe strength but they shal be preests of god, and of Christ. Apoc. 20. 6.

Finis.