University of Virginia Library

HIS NOBLE NUMBERS:

OR, HIS PIOUS PIECES, Wherein (amongst other things) he sings the Birth of his Christ: and sighes for his Saviours suffering on the Crosse

His Confession.

Look how our foule Dayes do exceed our faire;
And as our bad, more then our good Works are:
Ev'n so those Lines, pen'd by my wanton Wit,
Treble the number of these good I've writ.
Things precious are least num'rous: Men are prone
To do ten Bad, for one Good Action.

His Prayer for Absolution.

For Those my unbaptized Rhimes,
Writ in my wild unhallowed Times;
For every sentence, clause and word,
That's not inlaid with Thee, (my Lord)
Forgive me God, and blot each Line
Out of my Book, that is not Thine.
But if, 'mongst all, thou find'st here one
Worthy thy Benediction;
That One of all the rest, shall be
The Glory of my Work, and Me.

To finde God.

Weigh me the Fire; or, canst thou find
A way to measure out the Wind;
Distinguish all those Floods that are
Mixt in that watrie Theater;
And tast thou them as saltlesse there,
As in their Channell first they were.
Tell me the People that do keep
Within the Kingdomes of the Deep;
Or fetch me back that Cloud againe,
Beshiver'd into seeds of Raine;
Tell me the motes, dust, sands, and speares
Of Corn, when Summer shakes his eares;
Shew me that world of Starres, and whence
They noiselesse spill their Influence:
This if thou canst; then shew me Him
That rides the glorious Cherubim.

What God is.

God is above the sphere of our esteem,
And is the best known, not defining Him.

Upon God.

God is not onely said to be
An Ens, but Supraentitie.

Mercy and Love.

God hath two wings, which He doth ever move,
The one is Mercy, and the next is Love:
Under the first the Sinners ever trust;
And with the last he still directs the Just.

Gods Anger without Affection.

God when He's angry here with any one,
His wrath is free from perturbation;
And when we think His looks are sowre and grim,
The alteration is in us, not Him.

God not to be comprehended.

'Tis hard to finde God, but to comprehend
Him, as He is, is labour without end.

Gods part.

Prayers and Praises are those spotlesse two
Lambs, by the Law, which God requires as due.

Affliction.

God n'ere afflicts us more then our desert,
Though He may seem to over-act His part:
Sometimes He strikes us more then flesh can beare;
But yet still lesse then Grace can suffer here.

Three fatall Sisters.

Three fatall Sisters wait upon each sin;
First, Fear and Shame without, then Guilt within.

Silence.

Suffer thy legs, but not thy tongue to walk:
God, the most Wise, is sparing of His talk.

Mirth.

True mirth resides not in the smiling skin:
The sweetest solace is to act no sin.

Loading and unloading.

God loads, and unloads, (thus His work begins)
To load with blessings, and unload from sins.

Gods Mercy.

Gods boundlesse mercy is (to sinfull man)
Like to the ever-wealthy Ocean:
Which though it sends forth thousand streams, 'tis ne're
Known, or els seen to be the emptier:
And though it takes all in, 'tis yet no more
Full, and fild-full, then when full-fild before.

Prayers must have Poise.

God He rejects all Prayers that are sleight,
And want their Poise: words ought to have their weight.

To God: an Anthem, sung in the Chappell at White-Hall, before the King.

Verse.
My God, I'm wounded by my sin,
And sore without, and sick within:

Ver. Chor.
I come to Thee, in hope to find
Salve for my body, and my mind.

Verse.
In Gilead though no Balme be found,
To ease this smart, or cure this wound;

Ver. Chor.
Yet, Lord, I know there is with Thee
All saving health, and help for me.

Verse.
Then reach Thou forth that hand of Thine,
That powres in oyle, as well as wine.

Ver. Chor.
And let it work, for I'le endure
The utmost smart, so Thou wilt cure.

Upon God.

God is all fore-part; for, we never see
Any part backward in the Deitie.

Calling, and correcting.

God is not onely mercifull, to call
Men to repent, but when He strikes withall.

No escaping the scourging.

God scourgeth some severely, some He spares;
But all in smart have lesse, or greater shares.

The Rod.

Gods Rod doth watch while men do sleep; & then
The Rod doth sleep, while vigilant are men.

God has a twofold part.

God when for sin He makes His Children smart,
His own He acts not, but anothers part:
But when by stripes He saves them, then 'tis known,
He comes to play the part that is His own.

God is One.

God, as He is most Holy knowne;
So He is said to be most One.

Persecutions profitable.

Afflictions they most profitable are
To the beholder, and the sufferer:
Bettering them both, but by a double straine,
The first by patience, and the last by paine.

To God.

Do with me, God! as Thou didst deal with John,
(Who writ that heavenly Revelation)
Let me (like him) first cracks of thunder heare;
Then let the Harps inchantments strike mine eare;
Here give me thornes; there, in thy Kingdome, set
Upon my head the golden coronet;
There give me day; but here my dreadfull night:
My sackcloth here; but there my Stole of white.

Whips.

God has his whips here to a twofold end,
The bad to punish, and the good t'amend.

Gods Providence.

If all transgressions here should have their pay,
What need there then be of a reckning day:
If God should punish no sin, here, of men,
His Providence who would not question then?

Temptation.

Those Saints, which God loves best,
The Devill tempts not least.

His Ejaculation to God.

My God! looke on me with thine eye
Of pittie, not of scrutinie;
For if thou dost, thou then shalt see
Nothing but loathsome sores in mee.
O then! for mercies sake, behold
These my irruptions manifold;
And heale me with thy looke, or touch:
But if thou wilt not deigne so much,
Because I'me odious in thy sight,
Speak but the word, and cure me quite.

Gods gifts not soone granted.

God heares us when we pray, but yet defers
His gifts, to exercise Petitioners:
And though a while He makes Requesters stay,
With Princely hand He'l recompence delay.

Persecutions purifie.

God strikes His Church, but 'tis to this intent,
To make, not marre her, by this punishment:
So where He gives the bitter Pills, be sure,
'Tis not to poyson, but to make thee pure.

Pardon.

God pardons those, who do through frailty sin;
But never those that persevere therein.

An Ode of the Birth of our Saviour.

Lip-labour.

In the old Scripture I have often read,
The calfe without meale n'ere was offered;
To figure to us, nothing more then this,
Without the heart, lip-labour nothing is.

The Heart.

In Prayer the Lips ne're act the winning part,
Without the sweet concurrence of the Heart.

Eare-rings.

Why wore th'Egyptians Jewells in the Eare?
But for to teach us, all the grace is there,
When we obey, by acting what we heare.

Sin seen.

When once the sin has fully acted been,
Then is the horror of the trespasse seen.

Upon Time.

His Petition.

If warre, or want shall make me grow so poore,
As for to beg my bread from doore to doore;
Lord! let me never act that beggars part,
Who hath thee in his mouth, not in his heart.
He who asks almes in that so sacred Name,
Without due reverence, playes the cheaters game.

To God.

Thou hast promis'd, Lord, to be
With me in my miserie;
Suffer me to be so bold,
As to speak, Lord, say and hold.

His Letanie, to the Holy Spirit.

Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving for a former, doth invite
God to bestow a second benefit.

Cock-crow.

Bell-man of Night, if I about shall go
For to denie my Master, do thou crow.
Thou stop'st S. Peter in the midst of sin;
Stay me, by crowing, ere I do begin;
Better it is, premonish'd, for to shun
A sin, then fall to weeping when 'tis done.

All things run well for the Righteous.

Adverse and prosperous Fortunes both work on
Here, for the righteous mans salvation:
Be he oppos'd, or be he not withstood,
All serve to th'Augmentation of his good.

Paine ends in Pleasure.

Afflictions bring us joy in times to come,
When sins, by stripes, to us grow wearisome.

To God.

I'le come, I'le creep, (though Thou dost threat)
Humbly unto Thy Mercy-seat:
When I am there, this then I'le do,
Give Thee a Dart, and Dagger too;
Next, when I have my faults confest,
Naked I'le shew a sighing brest;
Which if that can't Thy pittie wooe,
Then let Thy Justice do the rest,
And strike it through.

A Thanksgiving to God, for his House.

Lord, Thou hast given me a cell
Wherein to dwell
A little house, whose humble Roof
Is weather-proof;
Under the sparres of which I lie
Both soft, and drie;
Where Thou my chamber for to ward
Hast set a Guard
Of harmlesse thoughts, to watch and keep
Me, while I sleep.
Low is my porch, as is my Fate,
Both void of state;
And yet the threshold of my doore
Is worn by'th poore,
Who thither come, and freely get
Good words, or meat:
Like as my Parlour, so my Hall
And Kitchin's small:
A little Butterie, and therein
A little Byn,
Which keeps my little loafe of Bread
Unchipt, unflead:
Some brittle sticks of Thorne or Briar
Make me a fire,
Close by whose living coale I sit,
And glow like it.
Lord, I confesse too, when I dine,
The Pulse is Thine,
And all those other Bits, that bee
There plac'd by Thee;
The Worts, the Purslain, and the Messe
Of Water-cresse,
Which of Thy kindnesse Thou hast sent;
And my content
Makes those, and my beloved Beet,
To be more sweet.
'Tis Thou that crown'st my glittering Hearth
With guiltlesse mirth;
And giv'st me Wassaile Bowles to drink,
Spci'd to the brink.
Lord, 'tis thy plenty-dropping hand,
That soiles my land;
And giv'st me, for my Bushell sowne,
'Twice ten for one:
Thou mak'st my teeming Hen to lay
Her egg each day:
Besides my healthfull Ewes to beare
Me twins each yeare:
The while the conduits of my Kine
Run Creame, (for Wine.)
All these, and better Thou dost send
Me, to this end,
That I should render, for my part,
A thankfull heart;
Which, fir'd with incense, I resigne,
As wholly Thine;
But the acceptance, that must be,
My Christ, by Thee.

To God.

Make, make me Thine, my gracious God,
Or with thy staffe, or with thy rod;
And be the blow too what it will,
Lord, I will kisse it, though it kill:
Beat me, bruise me, rack me, rend me,
Yet, in torments, I'le commend Thee:
Examine me with fire, and prove me
To the full, yet I will love Thee:
Nor shalt thou give so deep a wound,
But I as patient will be found.

Another, to God.

None truly happy here.

Happy's that man, to whom God gives
A stock of Goods, whereby he lives
Neer to the wishes of his heart:
No man is blest through ev'ry part.

To his ever-loving God.

Can I not come to Thee, my God, for these
So very-many-meeting hindrances,
That slack my pace; but yet not make me stay?
Who slowly goes, rids (in the end) his way.
Cleere Thou my paths, or shorten Thou my miles,
Remove the barrs, or lift me o're the stiles:
Since rough the way is, help me when I call,
And take me up; or els prevent the fall.
I kenn my home; and it affords some ease,
To see far off the smoaking Villages.
Fain would I rest; yet covet not to die,
For feare of future-biting penurie:
No, no, (my God) Thou know'st my wishes be
To leave this life, not loving it, but Thee.

Another.

[Thou bidst me come; I cannot come; for why]

Thou bidst me come; I cannot come; for why,
Thou dwel'st aloft, and I want wings to flie.
To mount my Soule, she must have pineons given;
For, 'tis no easie way from Earth to Heaven.

To Death.

Thou bidst me come away,
And I'le no longer stay,
Then for to shed some teares
For faults of former yeares;
And to repent some crimes,
Done in the present times:
And next, to take a bit
Of Bread, and Wine with it:
To d'on my robes of love,
Fit for the place above;
To gird my loynes about
With charity throughout;
And so to travaile hence
With feet of innocence:
These done, I'le onely crie
God mercy; and so die.

Neutrality loathsome.

God will have all, or none; serve Him, or fall
Down before Baal, Bel, or Belial:
Either be hot, or cold: God doth despise,
Abhorre, and spew out all Neutralities.

Welcome what comes.

Whatever comes, let's be content withall:
Among Gods Blessings, there is no one small.

To his angrie God.

Patience, or Comforts in Crosses

Abundant plagues I late have had,
Yet none of these have made me sad:
For why, my Saviour, with the sense
Of suffring gives me patience.

Eternitie.

To his Saviour, a Child; a Present, by a child.

Go prettie child, and beare this Flower
Unto thy little Saviour;
And tell Him, by that Bud now blown,
He is the Rose of Sharon known:
When thou hast said so, stick it there
Upon his Bibb, or Stomacher:
And tell Him, (for good handsell too)
That thou hast brought a Whistle new,
Made of a clean strait oaten reed,
To charme his cries, (at time of need:)
Tell Him, for Corall, thou hast none;
But if thou hadst, He sho'd have one;
But poore thou art, and knowne to be
Even as monilesse, as He.
Lastly, if thou canst win a kisse
From those mellifluous lips of his;
Then never take a second on,
To spoile the first impression.

The New-yeeres Gift.

Let others look for Pearle and Gold,
Tissues, or Tabbies manifold:
One onely lock of that sweet Hay
Whereon the blessed Babie lay,
Or one poore Swadling-clout, shall be
The richest New-yeeres Gift to me.

To God.

If any thing delight me for to print
My Book, 'tis this; that Thou, my God, art in't.

God, and the King.

How am I bound to Two! God, who doth give
The mind; the King, the meanes whereby I live.

Gods mirth, Mans mourning.

Where God is merry, there write down thy fears:
What He with laughter speaks, heare thou with tears.

Honours are hindrances.

Give me Honours: what are these,
But the pleasing hindrances?
Stiles, and stops, and stayes, that come
In the way 'twixt me, and home:
Cleer the walk, and then shall I
To my heaven lesse run, then flie.

The Parasceve, or Preparation.

To a Love-Feast we both invited are:
The figur'd Damask, or pure Diaper,
Over the golden Altar now is spread,
With Bread, and Wine, and Vessells furnished;
The sacred Towell, and the holy Eure
Are ready by, to make the Guests all pure:
Let's go (my Alma) yet e're we receive,
Fit, fit it is, we have our Parasceve.
Who to that sweet Bread unprepar'd doth come
Better he starv'd, then but to tast one crumme.

To God.

God gives not onely corne, for need,
But likewise sup'rabundant seed;
Bread for our service, bread for shew;
Meat for our meales, and fragments too:
He gives not poorly, taking some
Between the finger, and the thumb;
But, for our glut, and for our store,
Fine flowre prest down, and running o're.

A will to be working.

Although we cannot turne the fervent fit
Of sin, we must strive 'gainst the streame of it:
And howsoe're we have the conquest mist;
'Tis for our glory, that we did resist.

Christs part.

Christ, He requires still, wheresoere He comes,
To feed, or lodge, to have the best of Roomes:
Give Him the choice; grant Him the nobler part
Of all the House: the best of all's the Heart.

Riches and Poverty.

God co'd have made all rich, or all men poore;
But why He did not, let me tell wherefore:
Had all been rich, where then had Patience been?
Had all been poore, who had His Bounty seen?

Sobriety in Search.

To seek of God more then we well can find,
Argues a strong distemper of the mind.

Almes.

Give, if thou canst, an Almes; if not, afford,
Instead of that, a sweet and gentle word:
God crowns our goodnesse, where so ere He sees,
On our part, wanting all abilities.

To his Conscience.

Can I not sin, but thou wilt be
My private Protonotarie?
Can I not wooe thee to passe by
A short and sweet iniquity?
I'le cast a mist and cloud, upon
My delicate transgression,
So utter dark, as that no eye
Shall see the hug'd impietie:
Gifts blind the wise, and bribes do please,
And winde all other witnesses:
And wilt not thou, with gold, be ti'd
To lay thy pen and ink aside?
That in the mirk and tonguelesse night,
Wanton I may, and thou not write?
It will not be: And, therefore, now,
For times to come, I'le make this Vow,
From aberrations to live free;
So I'le not feare the Judge, or thee.

To his Saviour.

Lord, I confesse, that Thou alone art able
To purifie this my Augean stable:
Be the Seas water, and the Land all Sope,
Yet if Thy Bloud not wash me, there's no hope.

To God.

God is all-sufferance here; here He doth show
No Arrow nockt, onely a stringlesse Bow:
His Arrowes flie; and all his stones are hurl'd
Against the wicked, in another world.

His Dreame.

I dreamt, last night, Thou didst transfuse
Oyle from Thy Jarre, into my creuze;
And powring still, Thy wealthy store,
The vessell full, did then run ore:
Me thought, I did Thy bounty chide,
To see the waste; but 'twas repli'd
By Thee, Deare God, God gives man seed
Oft-times for wast, as for his need.
Then I co'd say, that house is bare,
That has not bread, and some to spare.

Gods Bounty.

Gods Bounty, that ebbs lesse and lesse,
As men do wane in thankfulnesse.

To his sweet Saviour.

Night hath no wings, to him that cannot sleep;
And Time seems then, not for to flie, but creep;
Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she
Had broke her wheele, or crackt her axeltree.
Just so it is with me, who list'ning, pray
The winds, to blow the tedious night away;
That I might see the cheerfull peeping day.
Sick is my heart; O Saviour! do Thou please
To make my bed soft in my sicknesses:
Lighten my candle, so that I beneath
Sleep not for ever in the vaults of death:
Let me Thy voice betimes i'th morning heare;
Call, and I'le come; say Thou, the when, and where:
Draw me, but first, and after Thee I'le run,
And make no one stop, till my race be done.

His Creed.

I do believe, that die I must,
And be return'd from out my dust:
I do believe, that when I rise,
Christ I shall see, with these same eyes:
I do believe, that I must come,
With others, to the dreadfull Doome:
I do believe, the bad must goe
From thence, to everlasting woe:
I do believe, the good, and I,
Shall live with Him eternally:
I do believe, I shall inherit
Heaven, by Christs mercies, not my merit:
I do believe, the One in Three,
And Three in perfect Unitie:
Lastly, that JESUS is a Deed
Of Gift from God: And heres my Creed.

Temptations.

Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse:
Satan o'recomes none, but by willingnesse.

The Lamp.

When a mans Faith is frozen up, as dead;
Then is the Lamp and oyle extinguished.

Sorrowes.

Sorrowes our portion are: Ere hence we goe,
Crosses we must have; or, hereafter woe.

Penitencie.

A mans transgression God do's then remit,
When man he makes a Penitent for it.

The Dirge of Jephthahs Daughter:

sung by the Virgins.

To God, on his sicknesse.

What though my Harp, and Violl be
Both hung upon the Willow-tree?
What though my bed be now my grave,
And for my house I darknesse have?
What though my healthfull dayes are fled,
And I lie numbred with the dead?
Yet I have hope, by Thy great power,
To spring; though now a wither'd flower.

Sins loath'd, and yet lov'd.

Shame checks our first attempts; but then 'tis prov'd
Sins first dislik'd, are after that belov'd.

Sin.

Sin leads the way, but as it goes, it feels
The following plague still treading on his heels.

Upon God.

God when He takes my goods and chattels hence
Gives me a portion, giving patience:
What is in God is God; if so it be,
He patience gives; He gives himselfe to me.

Faith.

What here we hope for, we shall once inherit:
By Faith we all walk here, not by the Spirit.

Humility.

Humble we must be, if to Heaven we go:
High is the roof there; but the gate is low:
When e're thou speak'st, look with a lowly eye:
Grace is increased by humility.

Teares.

Our present Teares here (not our present laughter)
Are but the handsells of our joyes hereafter.

Sin and Strife.

After true sorrow for our sinnes, our strife
Must last with Satan, to the end of life.

An Ode, or Psalme, to God.

Graces for Children.

What God gives, and what we take,
'Tis a gift for Christ His sake:
Be the meale of Beanes and Pease,
God be thank'd for those, and these:
Have we flesh, or have we fish.
All are Fragments from His dish.
He His Church save, and the King,
And our Peace here, like a Spring,
Make it ever flourishing.

God to be first serv'd.

Honour thy Parents; but good manners call
Thee to adore thy God, the first of all.

Another Grace for a Child.

Here a little child I stand,
Heaving up my either hand;
Cold as Paddocks though they be,
Here I lift them up to Thee,
For a Benizon to fall
On our meat, and on us all.

A Christmas Caroll, sung to the King in the Presence at White-Hall.

Chor.
What sweeter musick can we bring,
Then a Caroll, for to sing
The Birth of this our heavenly King?
Awake the Voice! Awake the String!
Heart, Eare, and Eye, and every thing
Awake! the while the active Finger
Runs division with the Singer.

1.
Dark and dull night, flie hence away,
And give the honour to this Day,
That sees December turn'd to May.

2.
If we may ask the reason, say;
The why, and wherefore all things here
Seem like the Spring-time of the yeere?

3.
Why do's the chilling Winters morne
Smile, like a field beset with corne?
Or smell, like to a Meade new-shorne,
Thus, on the sudden?

4.
Come and see
The cause, why things thus fragrant be:
'Tis He is borne, whose quickning Birth
Gives life and luster, publike mirth,
To Heaven, and the under-Earth.

Chor.
We see Him come, and know him ours,
Who, with His Sun-shine, and His showers,
Turnes all the patient ground to flowers.

1.
The Darling of the world is come,
And fit it is, we finde a roome
To welcome Him.

2.
The nobler part
Of all the house here, is the heart,

Chor,
Which we will give Him; and bequeath
This Hollie, and this Ivie Wreath,
To do Him honour; who's our King,
And Lord of all this Revelling.

The New-yeeres Gift, or Circumcisions Song, sung to the King in the Presence at White-Hall.

1.
Prepare for Songs; He's come, He's come;
And be it sin here to be dumb,
And not with Lutes to fill the roome.

2.
Cast Holy Water all about,
And have a care no fire gos out,
But 'cense the porch, and place throughout.

3.
The Altars all on fier be;
The Storax fries; and ye may see,
How heart and hand do all agree,
To make things sweet.

Chor.
Yet all less sweet then He.

4.
Bring Him along, most pious Priest,
And tell us then, when as thou seest
His gently-gliding, Dove-like eyes,
And hear'st His whimp'ring, and His cries;
How canst thou this Babe circumcise?

5.
Ye must not be more pitifull then wise;
For, now unlesse ye see Him bleed,
Which makes the Bapti'me; 'tis decreed,
The Birth is fruitlesse:

Chor.
Then the work God speed.

1.
Touch gently, gently touch; and here
Spring Tulips up through all the yeere;
And from His sacred Bloud, here shed,
May Roses grow, to crown His own deare Head.

Chor.
Back, back again; each thing is done
With zeale alike, as 'twas begun;
Now singing, homeward let us carrie
The Babe unto His Mother Marie;
And when we have the Child commended
To her warm bosome, then our Rites are ended.

Another New-yeeres Gift,

or Song for the Circumcision.

1.
Hence, hence prophane, and none appeare
With any thing unhallowed, here:
No jot of Leven must be found
Conceal'd in this most holy Ground:

2.
What is corrupt, or sowr'd with sin,
Leave that without, then enter in;

Chor.
But let no Christmas mirth begin
Before ye purge, and circumcise
Your hearts, and hands, lips, eares, and eyes.

3.
Then, like a perfum'd Altar, see
That all things sweet, and clean may be:
For, here's a Babe, that (like a Bride)
Will blush to death, if ought be spi'd
Ill-scenting, or unpurifi'd.

Chor.
The room is cens'd: help, help t'invoke
Heaven to come down, the while we choke
The Temple, with a cloud of smoke.

4.
Come then, and gently touch the Birth
Of Him, who's Lord of Heav'n and Earth;

5.
And softly handle Him: y'ad need,
Because the prettie Babe do's bleed.
Poore-pittied Child! Who from Thy Stall
Bring'st, in Thy Blood, a Balm, that shall
Be the best New-yeares Gift to all.

1.
Let's blesse the Babe: And, as we sing
His praise; so let us blesse the King:

Chor.
Long may He live, till He hath told
His New-yeeres trebled to His old:
And, when that's done, to re-aspire
A new-borne Phœnix from His own chast fire.

Gods Pardon.

When I shall sin, pardon my trespasse here;
For, once in hell, none knowes Remission there.

Sin.

Sin once reacht up to Gods eternall Sphere,
And was committed, not remitted there.

Evill.

Evill no Nature hath; the losse of good
Is that which gives to sin a livelihood.

The Star-Song:

A Caroll to the King; sung at White-Hall.

1.
Tell us, thou cleere and heavenly Tongue,
Where is the Babe but lately sprung?
Lies He the Lillie-banks among?

2.
Or say, if this new Birth of ours
Sleeps, laid within some Ark of Flowers,
Spangled with deaw-light; thou canst cleere
All doubts, and manifest the where.

3.
Declare to us, bright Star, if we shall seek
Him in the Mornings blushing cheek,
Or search the beds of Spices through,
To find him out?

Star.
No, this ye need not do;
But only come, and see Him rest
A Princely Babe in's Mothers Brest.

Chor.
He's seen, He's seen, why then a Round,
Let's kisse the sweet and holy ground;
And all rejoyce, that we have found
A King, before conception crown'd.

4.
Come then, come then, and let us bring
Unto our prettie Twelfth-Tide King,
Each one his severall offering;

Chor.
And when night comes, wee'l give Him wassailing:
And that His treble Honours may be seen,
Wee'l chuse Him King, and make His Mother Queen.

To God.

With golden Censers, and with Incense, here,
Before Thy Virgin-Altar I appeare,
To pay Thee that I owe, since what I see
In, or without; all, all belongs to Thee:
Where shall I now begin to make, for one
Least loane of Thine, half Restitution?
Alas! I cannot pay a jot; therefore
I'le kisse the Tally, and confesse the score.
Ten thousand Talents lent me, Thou dost write:
'Tis true, my God; but I can't pay one mite.

To his deere God.

To God, his good will.

Gold I have none, but I present my need,
O Thou, that crown'st the will, where wants the deed.
Where Rams are wanting, or large Bullocks thighs,
There a poor Lamb's a plenteous sacrifice.
Take then his Vowes, who, if he had it, would
Devote to Thee, both incense, myrrhe, and gold,
Upon an Altar rear'd by Him, and crown'd
Both with the Rubie, Pearle, and Diamond.

On Heaven.

Permit mine eyes to see
Part, or the whole of Thee,
O happy place!
Where all have Grace,
And Garlands shar'd,
For their reward;
Where each chast Soule
In long white stole,
And Palmes in hand,
Do ravisht stand;
So in a ring,
The praises sing
Of Three in One,
That fill the Throne;
While Harps, and Violls then
To Voices, say, Amen.

The Summe, and the Satisfaction.

Last night I drew up mine Account,
And found my Debits to amount
To such a height, as for to tell
How I sho'd pay, 's impossible:
Well, this I'le do; my mighty score
Thy mercy-seat I'le lay before;
But therewithall I'le bring the Band,
Which, in full force, did daring stand,
Till my Redeemer (on the Tree)
Made void for millions, as for me.
Then, if Thou bidst me pay, or go
Unto the prison, I'le say, no;
Christ having paid, I nothing owe:
For, this is sure, the Debt is dead
By Law, the Bond once cancelled.

Good men afflicted most.

God makes not good men wantons, but doth bring
Them to the field, and, there, to skirmishing;
With trialls those, with terrors these He proves,
And hazards those most, whom the most He loves;
For Sceva, darts; for Cocles, dangers; thus
He finds a fire for mighty Mutius;
Death for stout Cato; and besides all these,
A poyson too He has for Socrates;
Torments for high Attilius; and, with want,
Brings in Fabricius for a Combatant:
But, bastard-slips, and such as He dislikes,
He never brings them once to th'push of Pikes.

Good Christians

Play their offensive and defensive parts,
Till they be hid o're with a wood of darts.

The Will the cause of Woe.

When man is punisht, he is plagued still,
Not for the fault of Nature, but of will.

To Heaven.

Open thy gates
To him, who weeping waits,
And might come in,
But that held back by sin.
Let mercy be
So kind, to set me free,
And I will strait
Come in, or force the gate.

The Recompence.

All I have lost, that co'd be rapt from me;
And fare it well: yet Herrick, if so be
Thy Deerest Saviour renders thee but one
Smile, that one smile's full restitution.

To God.

Pardon me God, (once more I Thee intreat)
That I have plac'd Thee in so meane a seat,
Where round about Thou seest but all things vaine,
Uncircumcis'd, unseason'd, and prophane.
But as Heavens publike and immortall Eye
Looks on the filth, but is not soil'd thereby;
So Thou, my God, may'st on this impure look,
But take no tincture from my sinfull Book:
Let but one beame of Glory on it shine,
And that will make me, and my Work divine.

To God.

Lord, I am like to Misletoe,
Which has no root, and cannot grow,
Or prosper, but by that same tree
It clings about; so I by Thee.
What need I then to feare at all,
So long as I about Thee craule?
But if that Tree sho'd fall, and die,
Tumble shall heav'n, and down will I.

His wish to God.

I would to God, that mine old age might have
Before my last, but here a living grave,
Some one poore Almes-house; there to lie, or stir,
Ghost-like, as in my meaner sepulcher;
A little piggin, and a pipkin by,
To hold things fitting my necessity;
Which, rightly us'd, both in their time and place,
Might me excite to fore, and after-grace.
Thy Crosse, my Christ, fixt 'fore mine eyes sho'd be,
Not to adore that, but to worship Thee.
So, here the remnant of my dayes I'd spend,
Reading Thy Bible, and my Book; so end.

Satan.

When we 'gainst Satan stoutly fight, the more
He teares and tugs us, then he did before;
Neglecting once to cast a frown on those
Whom ease makes his, without the help of blowes.

Hell.

Hell is no other, but a soundlesse pit,
Where no one beame of comfort peeps in it.

The way.

When I a ship see on the Seas,
Cuft with those watrie savages,
And therewithall, behold, it hath
In all that way no beaten path;
Then, with a wonder, I confesse,
Thou art our way i'th wildernesse:
And while we blunder in the dark,
Thou art our candle there, or spark.

Great grief, great glory.

The lesse our sorrowes here and suffrings cease,
The more our Crownes of Glory there increase.

Hell.

Hell is the place where whipping-cheer abounds,
But no one Jailor there to wash the wounds.

The Bell-man.

Along the dark, and silent night,
With my Lantern, and my Light,
And the tinkling of my Bell,
Thus I walk, and this I tell:
Death and dreadfulnesse call on,
To the gen'rall Session;
To whose dismall Barre, we there
All accompts must come to cleere:
Scores of sins w'ave made here many,
Wip't out few, (God knowes) if any.
Rise ye Debters then, and fall
To make paiment, while I call.
Ponder this, when I am gone;
By the clock 'tis almost One.

The goodnesse of his God.

The Widdowes teares:

or, Dirge of Dorcas.

1
Come pitie us, all ye, who see
Our Harps hung on the Willow-tree:
Come pitie us, ye Passers by,
Who see, or heare poor Widdowes crie:
Come pitie us; and bring your eares,
And eyes, to pitie Widdowes teares.

Chor.
And when you are come hither;
Then we will keep
A Fast, and weep
Our eyes out all together.

2.
For Tabitha, who dead lies here,
Clean washt, and laid out for the Beere;
O modest Matrons, weep and waile!
For now the Corne and Wine must faile:
The Basket and the Bynn of Bread,
Wherewith so many soules were fed

Chor.
Stand empty here for ever:
And ah! the Poore,
At thy worne Doore,
Shall be releeved never.

3.
Woe worth the Time, woe worth the day,
That reav'd us of thee Tabitha!
For we have lost, with thee, the Meale,
The Bits, the Morsells, and the deale
Of gentle Paste, and yeelding Dow,
That Thou on Widdowes didst bestow.

Chor.
All's gone, and Death hath taken
Away from us
Our Maundie; thus,
Thy Widdowes stand forsaken.

4.
Ah Dorcas, Dorcas! now adieu
We bid the Creuse and Pannier too:
I and the flesh, for and the fish,
Dol'd to us in That Lordly dish.
We take our leaves now of the Loome,
From whence the house-wives cloth did come:

Chor.
The web affords now nothing;
Thou being dead,
The woosted thred
Is cut, that made us clothing.

5.
Farewell the Flax and Reaming wooll,
With which thy house was plentifull.
Farewell the Coats, the Garments, and
The Sheets, the Rugs, made by thy hand.
Farewell thy Fier and thy Light,
That ne're went out by Day or Night:

Chor.
No, or thy zeale so speedy,
That found a way
By peep of day,
To feed and cloth the Needy.

6.
But, ah, alas! the Almond Bough,
And Olive Branch is wither'd now.
The Wine Presse now is ta'ne from us,
The Saffron and the Calamus.
The Spice and Spiknard hence is gone,
The Storax and the Cynamon,

Chor.
The Caroll of our gladnesse
Ha's taken wing,
And our late spring
Of mirth is turn'd to sadnesse.

7.
How wise wast thou in all thy waies!
How worthy of respect and praise!
How Matron-like didst thou go drest!
How soberly above the rest
Of those that prank it with their Plumes;
And jet it with their choice purfumes.

Chor.
Thy vestures were not flowing:
Nor did the street
Accuse thy feet
Of mincing in their going.

8.
And though thou here li'st dead, we see
A deale of beauty yet in thee.
How sweetly shewes thy smiling face,
Thy lips with all diffused grace!
Thy hands (though cold) yet spotlesse, white,
And comely as the Chrysolite.

Chor.
Thy belly like a hill is,
Or as a neat
Cleane heap of wheat,
All set about with Lillies.

9.
Sleep with thy beauties here, while we
Will shew these garments made by thee;
These were the Coats, in these are read
The monuments of Dorcas dead.
These were thy Acts, and thou shalt have
These hung, as honours o're thy Grave,

Chor.
And after us (distressed)
Sho'd fame be dumb;
Thy very Tomb
Would cry out, Thou art blessed.

To God, in time of plundering.

Rapine has yet tooke nought from me;
But if it please my God, I be
Brought at the last to th'utmost bit,
God make me thankfull still for it.
I have been gratefull for my store:
Let me say grace when there's no more.

To his Saviour.

The New yeers gift.

Doomes-Day.

Let not that Day Gods Friends and Servants scare:
The Bench is then their place; and not the Barre.

The Poores Portion.

The sup'rabundance of my store,
That is the portion of the poore:
Wheat, Barley, Rie, or Oats; what is't
But he takes tole of? all the Griest.
Two raiments have I: Christ then makes
This Law; that He and I part stakes.
Or have I two loaves; then I use
The poore to cut, and I to chuse.

The white Island: or place of the Blest.

To Christ.

I crawle, I creep; my Christ, I come
To Thee, for curing Balsamum:
Thou hast, nay more, Thou art the Tree,
Affording salve of Soveraigntie.
My mouth I'le lay unto Thy wound
Bleeding, that no Blood touch the ground:
For, rather then one drop shall fall
To wast, my JESU, I'le take all.

To God.

God! to my little meale and oyle,
Add but a bit of flesh, to boyle:
And Thou my Pipkinnet shalt see,
Give a wave-offring unto Thee.

Free Welcome.

God He refuseth no man; but makes way
For All that now come, or hereafter may.

Gods Grace.

Gods Grace deserves here to be daily fed,
That, thus increast, it might be perfected.

Coming to Christ.

To him, who longs unto his CHRIST to go,
Celerity even it self is slow.

Correction.

God had but one Son free from sin; but none
Of all His sonnes free from correction.

Gods Bounty.

God, as He's potent, so He's likewise known,
To give us more then Hope can fix upon.

Knowledge.

Science in God, is known to be
A Substance, not a Qualitie.

Salutation.

Christ, I have read, did to His Chaplains say,
Sending them forth, Salute no man by th'way:
Not, that He taught His Ministers to be
Unsmooth, or sowre, to all civilitie;
But to instruct them, to avoid all snares
Of tardidation in the Lords Affaires.
Manners are good: but till his errand ends,
Salute we must, nor Strangers, Kin, or Friends.

Lasciviousnesse.

Lasciviousnesse is known to be
The sister to saturitie.

Teares.

God from our eyes all teares hereafter wipes,
And gives His Children kisses then, not stripes.

Gods Blessing.

In vain our labours are, whatsoe're they be,
Unlesse God gives the Benedicite.

God, and Lord.

God, is His Name of Nature; but that word
Implies His Power, when He's cal'd the LORD.

The Judgment-Day.

God hides from man the reck'ning Day, that He
May feare it ever for uncertaintie:
That being ignorant of that one, he may
Expect the coming of it ev'ry day.

Angells.

Angells are called Gods; yet of them, none
Are Gods, but by participation:
As just Men are intitled Gods, yet none
Are Gods, of them, but by Adoption.

Long life.

The longer thred of life we spin,
The more occasion still to sin.

Teares.

The teares of Saints more sweet by farre,
Then all the songs of sinners are.

Manna.

That Manna, which God on His people cast,
Fitted it self to ev'ry Feeders tast.

Reverence.

True rev'rence is (as Cassiodore doth prove)
The feare of God, commixt with cleanly love

Mercy.

Mercy, the wise Athenians held to be
Not an Affection, but a Deitie.

Wages.

After this life, the wages shall
Not shar'd alike be unto all.

Temptation.

God tempteth no one (as S. Aug'stine saith)
For any ill; but, for the proof of Faith:
Unto temptation God exposeth some;
But none, of purpose, to be overcome.

Gods hands.

Gods Hands are round, & smooth, that gifts may fall
Freely from them, and hold none back at all.

Labour.

Labour we must, and labour hard
I'th Forum here, or Vineyard.

Mora Sponsi,

the stay of the Bridegroome.

The time the Bridegroom stayes from hence,
Is but the time of penitence.

Roaring.

Roaring is nothing but a weeping part,
Forc'd from the mighty dolour of the heart.

The Eucharist.

He that is hurt seeks help: sin is the wound;
The salve for this i'th Eucharist is found.

Sin severely punisht.

God in His own Day will be then severe,
To punish great sins, who small faults whipt here.

Montes Scripturarum,

the Mounts of the Scriptures.

The Mountains of the Scriptures are (some say)
Moses, and Jesus, called Joshua:
The Prophets Mountains of the Old are meant;
Th'Apostles Mounts of the New Testament.

Prayer.

A prayer, that is said alone,
Starves, having no companion.
Great things ask for, when thou dost pray,
And those great are, which ne're decay.
Pray not for silver, rust eats this;
Ask not for gold, which metall is:
Nor yet for houses, which are here
But earth: such vowes nere reach Gods eare.

Christs sadnesse.

Christ was not sad, i'th garden, for His own
Passion, but for His sheeps dispersion.

God heares us.

God, who's in Heav'n, will hear from thence;
If not to'th sound, yet, to the sense.

God.

God (as the learned Damascen doth write)
A Sea of Substance is, Indefinite.

Clouds.

He that ascended in a cloud, shall come
In clouds, descending to the publike Doome.

Comforts in contentions.

The same, who crownes the Conquerour, will be
A Coadjutor in the Agonie.

Heaven.

Heav'n is most faire; but fairer He
That made that fairest Canopie.

God.

In God there's nothing, but 'tis known to be
Ev'n God Himself, in perfect Entitie.

His Power.

God can do all things, save but what are known
For to imply a contradiction.

Christs words on the Crosse, My God, My God.

Christ, when He hung the dreadfull Crosse upon,
Had (as it were) a Dereliction;
In this regard, in those great terrors He
Had no one Beame from Gods sweet Majestie.

JEHOVAH.

Jehovah, as Boëtius saith,
No number of the Plurall hath.

Confusion of face.

God then confounds mans face, when He not hears
The Vowes of those, who are Petitioners.

Another.

[The shame of mans face is no more]

The shame of mans face is no more
Then prayers repel'd, (sayes Cassiodore).

Beggars.

Jacob Gods Beggar was; and so we wait
(Though ne're so rich) all beggars at His Gate.

Good, and bad.

The Bad among the Good are here mixt ever:
The Good without the Bad are here plac'd never.

Sin.

Sin no Existence; Nature none it hath,
Or Good at all, (as learn'd Aquinas saith.)

Martha, Martha.

The repetition of the name made known
No other, then Christs full Affection.

Youth, and Age.

God on our Youth bestowes but little ease;
But on our Age most sweet Indulgences.

Gods power.

God is so potent, as His Power can.
Draw out of bad a soveraigne good to man.

Paradise.

Paradise is (as from the Learn'd I gather)
A quire of blest Soules circling in the Father.

Observation.

The Jewes, when they built Houses (I have read)
One part thereof left still unfinished:
To make them, thereby, mindfull of their own
Cities most sad and dire destruction.

The Asse.

God did forbid the Israelites, to bring
An Asse unto Him, for an offering:
Onely, by this dull creature, to expresse
His detestation to all slothfulnesse.

Observation.

The Virgin-Mother stood at distance (there)
From her Sonnes Crosse, not shedding once a teare:
Because the Law forbad to sit and crie
For those, who did as malefactors die.
So she, to keep her mighty woes in awe,
Tortur'd her love, not to transgresse the Law.
Observe we may, how Mary Joses then,
And th'other Mary (Mary Magdalen)
Sate by the Grave; and sadly sitting there,
Shed for their Master many a bitter teare:
But 'twas not till their dearest Lord was dead;
And then to weep they both were licensed.

Tapers.

Those Tapers, which we set upon the grave,
In fun'rall pomp, but this importance have;
That soules departed are not put out quite;
But, as they walk't here in their vestures white,
So live in Heaven, in everlasting light.

Christs Birth.

One Birth our Saviour had; the like none yet
Was, or will be a second like to it.

The Virgin Mary.

To work a wonder, God would have her shown,
At once, a Bud, and yet a Rose full-blowne.

Another.

[As Sun-beames pierce the glasse, and streaming in]

As Sun-beames pierce the glasse, and streaming in,
No crack or Schisme leave i'th subtill skin:
So the Divine Hand work't, and brake no thred,
But, in a Mother, kept a maiden-head.

God.

God, in the holy Tongue, they call
The Place that filleth All in all.

Another of God.

God's said to leave this place, and for to come
Nearer to that place, then to other some:
Of locall motion, in no least respect,
But only by impression of effect.

Another.

[God is Jehovah cal'd; which name of His]

God is Jehovah cal'd; which name of His
Implies or Essence, or the He that Is.

Gods presence.

God's evident, and may be said to be
Present with just men, to the veritie:
But with the wicked if He doth comply,
'Tis (as S. Bernard saith) but seemingly.

Gods dwelling.

God's said to dwell there, wheresoever He
Puts down some prints of His high Majestie:
As when to man He comes, and there doth place
His holy Spirit, or doth plant His Grace.

The Virgin Mary.

The Virgin Marie was (as I have read)
The House of God, by Christ inhabited;
Into the which He enter'd: but, the Doore
Once shut, was never to be open'd more.

To God.

God's undivided, One in Persons Three;
And Three in Inconfused Unity:
Originall of Essence there is none
'Twixt God the Father, Holy Ghost, and Sonne:
And though the Father be the first of Three,
'Tis but by Order, not by Entitie.

Upon Woman and Mary.

So long (it seem'd) as Maries Faith was small,
Christ did her Woman, not her Mary call:
But no more Woman, being strong in Faith;
But Mary cal'd then (as S. Ambrose saith).

North and South.

The Jewes their beds, and offices of ease,
Plac't North and South, for these cleane purposes;
That mans uncomely froth might not molest
Gods wayes and walks, which lie still East and West.

Sabbaths.

Sabbaths are threefold, (as S. Austine sayes:)
The first of Time, or Sabbath here of Dayes;
The second is a Conscience trespasse-free;
The last the Sabbath of Eternitie.

The Fast, or Lent.

Noah the first was (as Tradition sayes)
That did ordaine the Fast of forty Dayes.

Sin.

There is no evill that we do commit,
But hath th'extraction of some good from it:
As when we sin; God, the great Chymist, thence
Drawes out th'Elixar of true penitence.

God.

God is more here, then in another place,
Not by His Essence, but commerce of Grace.

This, and the next World.

God hath this world for many made; 'tis true:
But He hath made the world to come for few.

Ease.

God gives to none so absolute an Ease,
As not to know, or feel some Grievances.

Beginnings and Endings.

Paul, he began ill, but he ended well;
Judas began well, but he foulely fell:
In godlinesse, not the beginnings, so
Much as the ends are to be lookt unto.

Temporall goods.

These temp'rall goods God (the most Wise) commends
To th'good and bad, in common, for two ends:
First, that these goods none here may o're esteem,
Because the wicked do partake of them:
Next, that these ills none cowardly may shun;
Being, oft here, the just mans portion.

Hell fire.

The fire of Hell this strange condition hath,
To burn, not shine (as learned Basil saith.)

Abels Bloud.

Speak, did the Bloud of Abel cry
To God for vengeance? yes say I;
Ev'n as the sprinkled bloud cal'd on
God, for an expiation.

Another.

[The bloud of Abel was a thing]

The bloud of Abel was a thing
Of such a rev'rend reckoning,
As that the old World thought it fit,
Especially to sweare by it.

A Position in the Hebrew Divinity.

One man repentant is of more esteem
With God, then one, that never sin'd 'gainst Him.

Penitence.

The Doctors, in the Talmud, say,
That in this world, one onely day
In true repentance spent, will be
More worth, then Heav'ns Eternitie.

Gods Presence.

God's present ev'ry where; but most of all
Present by Union Hypostaticall:
God, He is there, where's nothing else (Schooles say)
And nothing else is there, where He's away.

The Resurrection possible, and probable.

For each one Body, that i'th earth is sowne,
There's an up-rising but of one for one:
But for each Graine, that in the ground is thrown,
Threescore or fourescore spring up thence for one
So that the wonder is not halfe so great,
Of ours, as is the rising of the wheat.

Christs suffering.

Justly our dearest Saviour may abhorre us,
Who hath more suffer'd by us farre, then for us.

Sinners.

Sinners confounded are a twofold way,
Either as when (the learned Schoolemen say)
Mens sins destroyed are, when they repent;
Or when, for sins, men suffer punishment.

Temptations.

No man is tempted so, but may o'recome,
If that he has a will to Masterdome.

Pittie, and punishment.

God doth embrace the good with love; & gaines
The good by mercy, as the bad by paines.

Gods price, and mans price.

God bought man here wth his hearts blood expence;
And man sold God here for base thirty pence.

Christs Action.

Christ never did so great a work, but there
His humane Nature did, in part, appeare:
Or, ne're so meane a peece, but men might see
Therein some beames of His Divinitie:
So that, in all He did, there did combine
His Humane Nature, and His Part Divine.

Predestination.

Predestination is the Cause alone
Of many standing, but of fall to none.

Another.

[Art thou not destin'd? then, with hast, go on]

Art thou not destin'd? then, with hast, go on
To make thy faire Predestination:
If thou canst change thy life, God then will please
To change, or call back, His past Sentences.

Sin.

Sin never slew a soule, unlesse there went
Along with it some tempting blandishment.

Another.

[Sin is an act so free, that if we shall]

Sin is an act so free, that if we shall
Say, 'tis not free, 'tis then no sin at all.

Another.

[Sin is the cause of death; and sin's alone]

Sin is the cause of death; and sin's alone
The cause of Gods Predestination:
And from Gods Prescience of mans sin doth flow
Our Destination to eternall woe.

Prescience.

Gods Prescience makes none sinfull; but th'offence
Of man's the chief cause of Gods Prescience.

Christ.

To all our wounds, here, whatsoe're they be,
Christ is the one sufficient Remedie.

Christs Incarnation.

Christ took our Nature on Him, not that He
'Bove all things lov'd it, for the puritie:
No, but He drest Him with our humane Trim,
Because our flesh stood most in need of Him.

Heaven.

Heaven is not given for our good works here:
Yet it is given to the Labourer.

Gods keyes.

God has foure keyes, which He reserves alone;
The first of Raine, the key of Hell next known:
With the third key He opes and shuts the wombe;
And with the fourth key He unlocks the tombe.

Sin.

There's no constraint to do amisse,
Whereas but one enforcement is.

Almes.

Give unto all, lest he, whom thou deni'st,
May chance to be no other man, but Christ.

Hell fire.

One onely fire has Hell; but yet it shall,
Not after one sort, there excruciate all:
But look, how each transgressor onward went
Boldly in sin, shall feel more punishment.

To keep a true Lent.

No time in Eternitie.

By houres we all live here, in Heaven is known
No spring of Time, or Times succession.

His Meditation upon Death.

Be those few hours, which I have yet to spend,
Blest with the Meditation of my end:
Though they be few in number, I'm content;
If otherwise, I stand indifferent:
Nor makes it matter, Nestors yeers to tell,
If man lives long, and if he live not well.
A multitude of dayes still heaped on,
Seldome brings order, but confusion.
Might I make choice, long life sho'd be with-stood;
Nor wo'd I care how short it were, if good:
Which to effect, let ev'ry passing Bell
Possesse my thoughts, next comes my dolefull knell
And when the night perswades me to my bed,
I'le thinke I'm going to be buried:
So shall the Blankets which come over me,
Present those Turfs, which once must cover me:
And with as firme behaviour I will meet
The sheet I sleep in, as my Winding-sheet.
When sleep shall bath his body in mine eyes,
I will believe, that then my body dies:
And if I chance to wake, and rise thereon,
I'le have in mind my Resurrection,
Which must produce me to that Gen'rall Doome,
To which the Pesant, so the Prince must come,
To heare the Judge give sentence on the Throne,
Without the least hope of affection.
Teares, at that day, shall make but weake defence;
When Hell and Horrour fright the Conscience.
Let me, though late, yet at the last, begin
To shun the least Temptation to a sin;
Though to be tempted be no sin, untill
Man to th'alluring object gives his will.
Such let my life assure me, when my breath
Goes theeving from me, I am safe in death;
Which is the height of comfort, when I fall,
I rise triumphant in my Funerall.

Cloaths for Continuance.

Those Garments lasting evermore,
Are works of mercy to the poore,
Which neither Tettar, Time, or Moth
Shall fray that silke, or fret this cloth.

To God.

Come to me God; but do not come
To me, as to the gen'rall Doome,
In power; or come Thou in that state,
When Thou Thy Lawes didst promulgate,
When as the Mountains quak'd for dread,
And sullen clouds bound up his head.
No, lay thy stately terrours by,
To talke with me familiarly;
For if Thy thunder-claps I heare,
I shall lesse swoone, then die for feare.
Speake thou of love and I'le reply
By way of Epithalamie,
Or sing of mercy, and I'le suit
To it my Violl and my Lute:
Thus let Thy lips but love distill,
Then come my God, and hap what will.

The Soule.

When once the Soule has lost her way,
O then, how restlesse do's she stray!
And having not her God for light,
How do's she erre in endlesse night!

The Judgement day.

In doing justice, God shall then be known,
Who shewing mercy here, few priz'd, or none.

Sufferings.

We merit all we suffer, and by far
More stripes, then God layes on the sufferer.

Paine and pleasure.

God suffers not His Saints, and Servants deere,
To have continuall paine, or pleasure here:
But look how night succeeds the day, so He
Gives them by turnes their grief and jollitie.

Gods presence.

God is all-present to what e're we do,
And as all-present, so all-filling too.

Another.

[That there's a God, we all do know]

That there's a God, we all do know,
But what God is, we cannot show.

The poore mans part.

Tell me rich man, for what intent
Thou load'st with gold thy vestiment?
When as the poore crie out, to us
Belongs all gold superfluous.

The right hand.

God has a Right Hand, but is quite bereft
Of that, which we do nominate the Left.

The Staffe and Rod.

Two instruments belong unto our God;
The one a Staffe is, and the next a Rod:
That if the twig sho'd chance too much to smart,
The staffe might come to play the friendly part.

God sparing in scourging.

God still rewards us more then our desert:
But when He strikes, He quarter-acts His part.

Confession.

Confession twofold is (as Austine sayes,)
The first of sin is, and the next of praise:
If ill it goes with thee, thy faults confesse:
If well, then chant Gods praise with cheerfulnesse.

Gods Descent.

God is then said for to descend, when He
Doth, here on earth, some thing of novitie;
As when, in humane nature He works more
Then ever, yet, the like was done before.

No coming to God without Christ.

Good and great God! How sho'd I feare
To come to Thee, if Christ not there!
Co'd I but think, He would not be
Present, to plead my cause for me;
To Hell I'd rather run, then I
Wo'd see Thy Face, and He not by.

Another, to God.

Though Thou beest all that Active Love,
Which heats those ravisht Soules above;
And though all joyes spring from the glance
Of Thy most winning countenance;
Yet sowre and grim Thou'dst seem to me;
If through my Christ I saw not Thee.

The Resurrection.

That Christ did die, the Pagan saith;
But that He rose, that's Christians Faith.

Coheires.

We are Coheires with Christ; nor shall His own
Heire-ship be lesse, by our adoption:
The number here of Heires, shall from the state
Of His great Birth-right nothing derogate.

The number of two.

God hates the Duall Number; being known
The lucklesse number of division:
And when He blest each sev'rall Day, whereon
He did His curious operation;
'Tis never read there (as the Fathers say)
God blest His work done on the second day:
Wherefore two prayers ought not to be said,
Or by our selves, or from the Pulpit read.

Hardning of hearts.

God's said our hearts to harden then,
When as His grace not supples men.

The Rose.

Before Mans fall, the Rose was born
(S. Ambrose sayes) without the Thorn:
But, for Mans fault, then was the Thorn,
Without the fragrant Rose-bud, born;
But ne're the Rose without the Thorn.

Gods time must end our trouble.

God doth not promise here to man, that He
Will free him quickly from his miserie;
But in His own time, and when He thinks fit,
Then He will give a happy end to it.

Baptisme.

The strength of Baptisme, that's within;
It saves the soule, by drowning sin.

Gold and Frankincense.

Gold serves for Tribute to the King;
The Frankincense for Gods Offring.

To God.

God, who me gives a will for to repent,
Will add a power, to keep me innocent;
That I shall ne're that trespasse recommit,
When I have done true Penance here for it.

The chewing the Cud.

When well we speak, & nothing do that's good,
We not divide the Hoof, but chew the Cud:
But when good words, by good works, have their proof,
We then both chew the Cud, and cleave the Hoof.

Christs twofold coming.

Thy former coming was to cure
My soules most desp'rate Calenture;
Thy second Advent, that must be
To heale my Earths infirmitie.

To God, his gift.

As my little Pot doth boyle,
We will keep this Levell-Coyle;
That a Wave, and I will bring
To my God, a Heave-offering.

Gods Anger.

God can't be wrathfull; but we may conclude,
Wrathfull He may be, by similitude:
God's wrathfull said to be, when He doth do
That without wrath, which wrath doth force us to.

Gods Commands.

In Gods commands, ne're ask the reason why;
Let thy obedience be the best Reply.

To God.

If I have plaid the Truant, or have here
Fail'd in my part; O! Thou that art my deare,
My mild, my loving Tutor, Lord and God!
Correct my errors gently with Thy Rod.
I know, that faults will many here be found,
But where sin swells, there let Thy grace abound.

To God.

The work is done; now let my Lawrell be
Given by none, but by Thy selfe, to me:
That done, with Honour Thou dost me create
Thy Poet, and Thy Prophet Lawreat.

Good Friday: Rex Tragicus,

or Christ going to His Crosse.

Put off Thy Robe of Purple, then go on
To the sad place of execution:
Thine houre is come; and the Tormentor stands
Ready, to pierce Thy tender Feet, and Hands.
Long before this, the base, the dull, the rude,
Th'inconstant, and unpurged Multitude
Yawne for Thy coming; some e're this time crie,
How He deferres, how loath He is to die!
Amongst this scumme, the Souldier, with his speare,
And that sowre Fellow, with his vineger,
His spunge, and stick, do ask why Thou dost stay?
So do the Skurfe and Bran too: Go Thy way,
Thy way, Thou guiltlesse man, and satisfie
By Thine approach, each their beholding eye.
Not as a thief, shalt Thou ascend the mount,
But like a Person of some high account:
The Crosse shall be Thy Stage; and Thou shalt there
The spacious field have for Thy Theater.
Thou art that Roscius, and that markt-out man,
That must this day act the Tragedian,
To wonder and affrightment: Thou art He,
Whom all the flux of Nations comes to see;
Not those poor Theeves that act their parts with Thee:
Those act without regard, when once a King,
And God, as Thou art, comes to suffering.
No, No, this Scene from Thee takes life and sense,
And soule and spirit plot, and excellence.
Why then begin, great King! ascend Thy Throne,
And thence proceed, to act Thy Passion
To such an height, to such a period rais'd,
As Hell, and Earth, and Heav'n may stand amaz'd.
God, and good Angells guide Thee; and so blesse
Thee in Thy severall parts of bitternesse;
That those, who see Thee nail'd unto the Tree,
May (though they scorn Thee) praise and pitie Thee.
And we (Thy Lovers) while we see Thee keep
The Lawes of Action, will both sigh, and weep;
And bring our Spices, to embalm Thee dead;
That done, wee'l see Thee sweetly buried.

His words to Christ, going to the Crosse.

When Thou wast taken, Lord, I oft have read,
All Thy Disciples Thee forsook, and fled.
Let their example not a pattern be
For me to flie, but now to follow Thee.

Another, to his Saviour.

If Thou beest taken, God forbid,
I flie from Thee, as others did:
But if Thou wilt so honour me,
As to accept my companie,
I'le follow Thee, hap, hap what shall,
Both to the Judge, and Judgment-Hall:
And, if I see Thee posted there,
To be all-flayd with whipping-cheere,
I'le take my share; or els, my God,
Thy stripes I'le kisse, or burn the Rod.

His Saviours words, going to the Crosse.

His Anthem, to Christ on the Crosse.

Vers.
But yet it wounds my soule, to think,
That for my sin, Thou, Thou must drink,
Even Thou alone, the bitter cup
Of furie, and of vengeance up.

Chor.
Lord, I'le not see Thee to drink all
The Vineger, the Myrrhe, the Gall:

Ver. Chor.
But I will sip a little wine;
Which done, Lord say, The rest is mine.

[This Crosse-Tree here]

This Crosse-Tree here
Doth Jesus beare,
Who sweet'ned first,
The Death accurs't.
Here all things ready are, make hast, make hast away;
For, long this work wil be, & very short this Day.
Why then, go on to act: Here's wonders to be done,
Before the last least sand of Thy ninth houre be run;
Or e're dark Clouds do dull, or dead the Mid-dayes Sun.
Act when Thou wilt,
Bloud will be spilt;
Pure Balm, that shall
Bring Health to All.
Why then, Begin
To powre first in
Some Drops of Wine,
In stead of Brine,
To search the Wound,
So long unsound:
And, when that's done,
Let Oyle, next, run,
To cure the Sore
Sinne made before.
And O! Deare Christ,
E'en as Thou di'st,
Look down, and see
Us weepe for Thee.
And tho (Love knows)
Thy dreadfull Woes
Wee cannot ease;
Yet doe Thou please,
Who Mercie art,
T'accept each Heart,
That gladly would
Helpe, if it could.
Meane while, let mee,
Beneath this Tree,
This Honour have,
To make my grave.

To his Saviours Sepulcher: his Devotion.

Haile holy, and all-honour'd Tomb,
By no ill haunted; here I come,
With shoes put off, to tread thy Roome.
I'le not prophane, by soile of sin,
Thy Doore, as I do enter in:
For I have washt both hand and heart,
This, that, and ev'ry other part;
So that I dare, with farre lesse feare,
Then full affection, enter here.
Thus, thus I come to kisse Thy Stone
With a warm lip, and solemne one:
And as I kisse, I'le here and there
Dresse Thee with flowrie Diaper.
How sweet this place is! as from hence
Flow'd all Panchaia's Frankincense;
Or rich Arabia did commix,
Here, all her rare Aromaticks.
Let me live ever here, and stir
No one step from this Sepulcher.
Ravisht I am! and down I lie,
Confus'd, in this brave Extasie.
Here let me rest; and let me have
This for my Heaven, that was Thy Grave:
And, coveting no higher sphere,
I'le my Eternitie spend here.

His Offering, with the rest, at the Sepulcher.

To joyn with them, who here confer
Gifts to my Saviours Sepulcher;
Devotion bids me hither bring
Somwhat for my Thank-Offering.
Loe! Thus I give a Virgin-Flower,
To dresse my Maiden-Saviour.

His coming to the Sepulcher.

Hence they have born my Lord: Behold! the Stone
Is rowl'd away; and my sweet Saviour's gone!
Tell me, white Angell; what is now become
Of Him, we lately seal'd up in this Tombe?
Is He, from hence, gone to the shades beneath,
To vanquish Hell, as here He conquer'd Death?
If so; I'le thither follow, without feare;
And live in Hell, if that my Christ stayes there.

[Of all the good things whatsoe're we do]

Of all the good things whatsoe're we do,
God is the ΑΡΧΗ, and the ΤΕΛΟΣ too.