Marie Magdalens Lamentations for the Losse of her Master Iesus [by Gervase Markham] |
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Marie Magdalens second Lamentation
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 | Marie Magdalens Lamentations for the Losse of her Master Iesus |  |
Marie Magdalens second Lamentation
For the losse of the bodie, which shee came to annoint.
Bvt stay my Muse, I feare my maisters love
(The only portion that my fortune left me)
Would languish in my breast, and chillish prove,
Sith vvarmth to cherish it, vvas quite bereft me.
His vvords, his presence gone, vvhich fed my flame,
And not the ashes left to rake the same.
(The only portion that my fortune left me)
Would languish in my breast, and chillish prove,
Sith vvarmth to cherish it, vvas quite bereft me.
His vvords, his presence gone, vvhich fed my flame,
And not the ashes left to rake the same.
My spice and ointments shall be then prepar'd,
To pay last tribute of externall dutie,
Though others have thereto devoutly car'd,
And brought the best in vvorth, in vvorke, in beautie:
Yet such desire my dutie doth inherit,
That I must yeeld my love my latest merit.
To pay last tribute of externall dutie,
Though others have thereto devoutly car'd,
And brought the best in vvorth, in vvorke, in beautie:
Yet such desire my dutie doth inherit,
That I must yeeld my love my latest merit.
My love each quantitie too little deem'd,
Vnlesse that mine vvere added thereunto,
Best quantitie too meane and not esteem'd,
Except vvith mine it somewhat have to doe:
No diligence ynough for to apply,
Vnlesse my service be employed by.
Vnlesse that mine vvere added thereunto,
Best quantitie too meane and not esteem'd,
Except vvith mine it somewhat have to doe:
No diligence ynough for to apply,
Vnlesse my service be employed by.
Nor doe I thus sharpe censure others deeds,
But 'cause love makes me covetous of doing,
Though Josephs vvorke no reprehension needs,
Though to my wish his baulme he vvas bestowing:
Yet all he did cannot my love suffise,
But I must actor be to please mine eies.
But 'cause love makes me covetous of doing,
Though Josephs vvorke no reprehension needs,
Though to my wish his baulme he vvas bestowing:
Yet all he did cannot my love suffise,
But I must actor be to please mine eies.
Such is the force of true affecting love,
To be as eagre in effects t'appeare,
As it is zealous, fervently to move
Affections firme, to vvhat it holdeth deare
This love devout sets my poore heart on fire,
To shew some deed of my most deepe desire.
To be as eagre in effects t'appeare,
As it is zealous, fervently to move
Affections firme, to vvhat it holdeth deare
This love devout sets my poore heart on fire,
To shew some deed of my most deepe desire.
And to embaulme his breathlesse corps I came,
As once afore I did annoint his feet,
And to preserve the reliques of the same,
The only remnant that my blisse did meet:
To vveepe afresh for him in deapth of dole,
That lately vvept to him for mine owne soule.
As once afore I did annoint his feet,
And to preserve the reliques of the same,
The only remnant that my blisse did meet:
To vveepe afresh for him in deapth of dole,
That lately vvept to him for mine owne soule.
But loe alas, I find the grave vvide ope,
The bodie gone, the emptie Sindon left,
The hollow Tombe I every where doe grope,
To be assur'd of vvhat I am sure bereft,
The labour of embaulming is prevented,
But cause of endlesse vveeping is augmented.
The bodie gone, the emptie Sindon left,
The hollow Tombe I every where doe grope,
To be assur'd of vvhat I am sure bereft,
The labour of embaulming is prevented,
But cause of endlesse vveeping is augmented.
He vvanting is unto my obsequies,
That vvas not vvanting to my ceaselesse teares,
I find a cause to move my miseries,
To ease my vvoe, no vvisht for ioy appeares.
Thus though I misse, vvhom to annoint I meant,
Yet have I found a matter to lament.
That vvas not vvanting to my ceaselesse teares,
I find a cause to move my miseries,
To ease my vvoe, no vvisht for ioy appeares.
Thus though I misse, vvhom to annoint I meant,
Yet have I found a matter to lament.
I having settled all my sole desires
On Christ my love, vvho all my love possest,
In vvhose rare goodnesse, my affection fires,
Whom to enioy, I other ioies supprest,
Whose peerelesse vvorth unmatcht of all that live,
Being had (all ioy) and lost (all sorrowes) give.
On Christ my love, vvho all my love possest,
In vvhose rare goodnesse, my affection fires,
Whom to enioy, I other ioies supprest,
Whose peerelesse vvorth unmatcht of all that live,
Being had (all ioy) and lost (all sorrowes) give.
The life of lives thus murthering in his death,
Doth leave behind him, lasting to endure,
A generall death to each thing having breath,
And his decease our nature hath made pure:
Yet am poore I of ornament bereft,
And all the vvorld vvithout perfection left.
Doth leave behind him, lasting to endure,
A generall death to each thing having breath,
And his decease our nature hath made pure:
Yet am poore I of ornament bereft,
And all the vvorld vvithout perfection left.
What marvell then if my hearts hot desire,
And vehement love to such a lovely Lord,
To see lifes vvracke, vvith scalding sighs aspire,
And for his bodies losse such vvoe afford,
And feele like tast of sorrow in his misse,
As in his presence I enioied blisse.
And vehement love to such a lovely Lord,
To see lifes vvracke, vvith scalding sighs aspire,
And for his bodies losse such vvoe afford,
And feele like tast of sorrow in his misse,
As in his presence I enioied blisse.
And though my teares, destil'd from moistned eies,
Are rather oile than vvater to my flame,
More apt to nourish sorrow in such vvise,
Than to deminish or abate the same;
Yet silly soule I plung'd in deapth of paine,
Doe yeeld my selfe a captive to complaine.
Are rather oile than vvater to my flame,
More apt to nourish sorrow in such vvise,
Than to deminish or abate the same;
Yet silly soule I plung'd in deapth of paine,
Doe yeeld my selfe a captive to complaine.
Most true it is that Peter came and John,
With me unto the Tombe to trie report,
They came in hast, and hastily were gone,
They (having searcht) dare make no more resort,
And vvhat gain'd I, two vvitnesse of my losse,
Dismaiers of my hope, cause of more crosse.
With me unto the Tombe to trie report,
They came in hast, and hastily were gone,
They (having searcht) dare make no more resort,
And vvhat gain'd I, two vvitnesse of my losse,
Dismaiers of my hope, cause of more crosse.
Love made them come, but love was quickly quail'd,
With such a feare as cal'd them soone away,
I (poore I) hoping, in despaire assail'd,
Without all feare persevering still to stay,
Because I thought, no cause of feare vvas left,
Sith vvhom I feard, was from my sight bereft.
With such a feare as cal'd them soone away,
I (poore I) hoping, in despaire assail'd,
Without all feare persevering still to stay,
Because I thought, no cause of feare vvas left,
Sith vvhom I feard, was from my sight bereft.
For I (poore soule) have lost my maister deare,
To vvhom my thoughts devoutly vvere combin'd,
The totall of my love my cheefest cheare,
The height of hope in vvhom my glorie shin'd,
My finall feare, and therefore him excepted,
No other hope, nor love, nor losse respected.
To vvhom my thoughts devoutly vvere combin'd,
The totall of my love my cheefest cheare,
The height of hope in vvhom my glorie shin'd,
My finall feare, and therefore him excepted,
No other hope, nor love, nor losse respected.
Worse feare behind, vvas death, vvhich I desired
And feared not, (my soules life being gone)
Without vvhich I no other life required,
And in vvhich death had been delight alone:
And thus (ah thus) I live a dying life,
Yet neither death nor life can end my strife.
And feared not, (my soules life being gone)
Without vvhich I no other life required,
And in vvhich death had been delight alone:
And thus (ah thus) I live a dying life,
Yet neither death nor life can end my strife.
Yet now me thinkes tis better die than live,
For haply dying, I my love may find,
Whom vvhile I live, no hope at all can give,
And he not had, to live I have no mind:
For nothing in my selfe, but Christ I lov'd,
And nothing ioies, my Iesus so remov'd.
For haply dying, I my love may find,
Whom vvhile I live, no hope at all can give,
And he not had, to live I have no mind:
For nothing in my selfe, but Christ I lov'd,
And nothing ioies, my Iesus so remov'd.
If any thing alive to keepe me, striv'd,
It is his image, cause it should not die
With me, vvhose likenesse love in me contriv'd,
And treasured up in sweetest memorie:
From vvhich my love by no vvay can depart,
Vnlesse I rip the centre of my heart.
It is his image, cause it should not die
With me, vvhose likenesse love in me contriv'd,
And treasured up in sweetest memorie:
From vvhich my love by no vvay can depart,
Vnlesse I rip the centre of my heart.
Which had been done, but that I feard to burst
The worthlesse Trunck which my dear Lord inclosed
In vvhich the reliques of lost ioy vvas trust,
And all the remnant of my life imposed:
Else greefe had chang'd my hart to bleeding tears,
And fatall end had past from pittious ears.
The worthlesse Trunck which my dear Lord inclosed
In vvhich the reliques of lost ioy vvas trust,
And all the remnant of my life imposed:
Else greefe had chang'd my hart to bleeding tears,
And fatall end had past from pittious ears.
Yet pittious I, in so unperfit sort
Doe seeme to draw my undesired breath,
That true I prove this often-heard report,
Love is more strong than life-destroying death:
For vvhat more could pale death in me have done,
Than in my life, performed plaine is showne.
Doe seeme to draw my undesired breath,
That true I prove this often-heard report,
Love is more strong than life-destroying death:
For vvhat more could pale death in me have done,
Than in my life, performed plaine is showne.
My vvits destraught, and all my sence amaz'd,
My thoughts let loose and fled I know not vvhere,
Of understanding robd, I stand agaz'd,
Not able to conceit vvhat I doe heare:
That in the end, finding I did not know,
And seeing, could not vvell discerne the show.
My thoughts let loose and fled I know not vvhere,
Of understanding robd, I stand agaz'd,
Not able to conceit vvhat I doe heare:
That in the end, finding I did not know,
And seeing, could not vvell discerne the show.
I am not vvhere I am, but vvith my love,
And vvhere he is, poore soule I cannot tell,
Yet from his sight nothing my heart can move,
I more in him than in my selfe doe dwell:
And missing vvhom I looke for, vvith sad seeking,
Poor vvo-worn womā, at the Tomb stay weeping.
And vvhere he is, poore soule I cannot tell,
Yet from his sight nothing my heart can move,
I more in him than in my selfe doe dwell:
And missing vvhom I looke for, vvith sad seeking,
Poor vvo-worn womā, at the Tomb stay weeping.
| Marie Magdalens Lamentations for the Losse of her Master Iesus | |