Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now when as Faire (the daughter of the earth
Newly dis-burthen'd of her plumed birth)
From off her Turrets did her wings display,
And pearcht in the sad cares of Mordecai,
He rent his garments, wearing in their stead
Distressed sack-cloth: on his fainting head
He strowed Dust, and from his showring eyes
Ran floods of sorrow, and with bitter cryes
His griefe saluted heaven; his groanes did borrow
No Art to draw the true pourtraict of sorrow:
Nor yet within his troubled brest alone,
(Too small a stage for griefe to trample on)
Did Tyrant sorrow act her lively Sceane,
But did inlarge (such griefe admits no meane)
The lawlesse limits of her Theater
Ith' hearts of all the Iewish Nation, where

130

(With no dissembled Action) she exprest
The lively Passion of a pensive brest.
Forthwith he posteth to the Palace gate,
T'acquaint Queene Ester with his sad estate,
But found no entrance: for the Persian Court
Gave welcome to delights, and youthly sport,
To jolly mirth, and such delightfull things:
Soft rayment best befits the Courts of Kings:
There lyes no welcome for a whining face,
A mourning habit suits no Princely Place:
Which when the Maids, and Eunuchs or the Queen
(Vnable of themselves to helpe) had seene,
Their Royall Mistresse straight they did acquaint
With the dumb-shew of her sad Cousins plaint;
Whereat (till now a stranger to the cause)
Perplext, and forced by the tender Lawes
Of deare affection, her gentle heart
Did sympathize with his conceived smart:
She sent him change of rayment to put on,
To vaile his griefe; But he received none:
Then (sore dismai'd, impatient to forbeare
The knowledge of the thing she fear'd to heare)
She sent her servant to him, to importune,
What sudden Chance, or what disast'rous fortune
Had caus'd this strange and ill-apparell'd griefe,
That she (if in her lyes) may send reliefe:
To whom his sorrowes made this sad Relation,
And this, the tenor of his Declaration:

Hamans (that cursed Hamans) haughty pride
(Because my knee deservedly denyde
To make an Idoll of his greatnesse) hath
Incenst the fury of his jealous wrath,
And profer'd lavish bribes to buy the blood
Of me, and all the faithfull Iewish brood:

131

Let, here the copy, granted by the King,
Stil'd in his name, confirmed with his King,
By vertue of the which, into his hands,
Curst Haman hath ingrost our lives, our lands:
Goe tell the Queene, it refresh in her powers
To helpe; the case is hers as well as Ours:
Goe tell my cousin Queene, it is her charge,
To use the meanes, whereby she may inlarge
Her aged kinsmans life, and all her Nation;
Preferring to the King her supplication.

Meditat. 9.

Who hopes t'attain the sweet Elysian Layes,
To reap the harvest of his wel-spent daies,
Must passe the joy lesse streames of Acaron,
The scorching waves of burning Phlegeton,
And sable billowes of the Stygian Lake:
Thus sweet with sowre, each mortall must partake.
What joyfull Harvester did ere obtaine
The sweet fruition of his hopefull gaine,
Vntill his hardy labours first had past
The Summers heat, and stormy Winters blast?
A sable night returnes a shining morrow;
And dayes of joy ensue sad nights of sorrow:
The way to blisse lyes not on beds of Downe,
And he that had no Crosse, deserves no Crowne:
There's but one Heav'n, one place of perfect ease,
In man it lies, to take it where he please,
Above, or here below; And few men doe
Injoy the one; and tast the other too;
Sweating, and constant labour wins the Goale
Of Rest; Afflictions clarifie the soule,

132

And like hard Masters, give more hard directions,
Tut'ring the nonage of uncurb'd affections:
Wisedome (the Antidote of sad despayre)
Makes sharpe Afflictions seeme not as they are,
Through patient sufferance, and doth apprehend,
Not as they seeming are, but as they end:
To beare Affliction with a bended brow,
Or stubborne heart, is but to disallow
The speedy meanes to health; salve heales no sore,
If mis-apply'd, but makes the griefe the more:
Who sends Affliction, sends an end; and He
Best knows what's best for him, what's best for me:
'Tis not for me to carve me where I like;
Him pleases when he lift to stroke or strike:
Ile neither wish, nor yet avoid Tentation,
But still expect it, and make preparation:
If he thinke best, my Faith shall not be tryde,
(Lord) keep me spotless from presumptuous pride:
If otherwise; with tryall, give me care,
By thankfull patience, to prevent Despaire;
Fit me to beare what e're thou shalt assigne;
I kisse the Rod, because the Rod is thine.

How-ere, let me not boast, nor yet repine,
With tryall, or without (Lord) make me thine.