University of Virginia Library

Threnodia III.

Eleg. 1.

All you, whose unprepared lips did tast
The tedious Cup of sharp affliction, cast
Your wondring eyes on me, that have drunke up
Those dregs, whereof you onely kist the Cup:
I am the man, 'gainst whom th'Eternall hath
Discharg'd the lowder volley of his wrath;
I am the man, on whom the brow of night
Hath scowl'd, unworthy to behold the light;
I am the man, in whom th'Almighty showes
The dire example of unpattern'd woes;
I am the Pris'ner, ransome cannot free;
I am that man, and I am onely he.

Eleg. 2.

Bondage hath forc'd my servile necke to faile
Beneath her load; Afflictions nimble flayle
Hath thrasht my soule upon a floore of stones,
And quasht the marrow of my broken bones,
Th'assembled powres of Heaven enrag'd, are eager
To root me out: Heavens souldiers doe beleager
My worried soule, my soule unapt for fleeing,
That yeelds o'reburthen'd with her tedious being;
Th'Almighties hand hath clouded all my night,
And clad my soule with a perpetuall light,
A night of torments, and eternall sorrow,
Like that of Death, that never findes a morrow.

Eleg. 3.

Chain'd to the brazen pillars of my woes,
I strive in vaine. No mortall hand can loose
What heaven hath bound; my soule is walld about,
That hope can nor get in, nor feare get out;
When ere my wav'ring hopes to heaven addresse
The feeble voice of my extreame distresse,
He stops his tyred eares; without regard
Of Suit, or Suitor, leaves my prayers unheard.
Before my faint and stumbling feet he layes
Blockes, to disturbe my best advised wayes;
I seeke my peace, but seeke my peace in vaine;
For every way's a Trap; each path's a Traine.

Eleg. 4.

Disturbed Lyons are appeas'd with blood,
And ravenous Beares are milde, not wanting food,
But heaven (ah heaven!) will not implored be:
Lyons, and Beares are not so fierce as Hee:
His direfull vengeance (which no meane confines)
Hath crost the thriving of my best designes;
His hand hath spoild me, that erewhile advanc't me
Brought in my foes, possest my friends against me;
His Bow is bent, his forked Rovers flie
Like darted haile-stones from the darkned skie,
Shot from a hand that cannot erre, they be
Transfixed in no other marke, but me.

Eleg. 5.

Exil'd from Heaven, I wander to and fro,
And seeke for streames, as Stags new stricken doe,
And like a wandring Hart I flee the Hounds,
With Arrowes deeply fixed in my wounds;
My deadly Hunters with a winged pace,
Pricke forwards, and pursue their weary chace,
They whoope, they hollow me, deride, & flout me,
That flee from death, yet carrie death about me:
Excesse of torments hath my soule deceiv'd
Of all her joyes, of all her powres bereiv'd.
O curious griefe, that hast my soule brim-fill'd
With thousand deaths, and yet my soule not kill'd!

Eleg. 6.

Follow'd with troopes of feares, I flie in vaine,
For change of places breeds new change of paine;
The base condition of my low estate,
My exalted Foes disdaine, and wonder at:
Turne where I list (these) these my wretched eyes,
They finde no objects, but new miseries;
My soule, accustom'd to so long encrease
Of paines, forgets that she had ever peace;
Thus, thus perplext, thus with my griefes distracted
What shall I do? Heavens powers are compacted
To worke my 'eternall ruine; To what friend
Shal I make mone, when heaven conspires my end?

Eleg. 7.

Great GOD! what helpe (ah me) what hope is left
To him, that of thy prescence is bereft?
Absented from thy favour, what remaines,
But sense, and sad remembrance of my paines?
Yet hath affliction op'ned my dull eare,
And taught me, what in weale I ne're could heare;
Her scourge hath tutor'd me with sharpe corrections
And swag'd the swelling of my proud affections;
Till now I slumbred in a prosp'rous dreame,
From whēce awak'd, my griefes are more extreame;
Hopes newly quickned, have my soule assur'd,
That griefes discover'd, are one halfe recur'd.

Eleg. 8.

Had not the milder hand of mercy broke
The furious violence of that fatall stroke
Offended Iustice strucke, we had beene quite
Lost in the shadowes of eternall night;
Thy mercy Lord, is like the morning Sunne,
Whose beames undoe, what sable night hath done;
Or like a streame, the current of whose course,
Restrain'd a while, runs with a swifter force;
Oh, let me swelter in those sacred beames,
And after bathe me in these silver streames;
To thee alone, my sorrowes shall appeale;
Hath earth a wound, too hard for heaven to heale?

Eleg. 9.

In thee (deare Lord) my pensive soule respires,
Thou art the fulnesse of my choice desires;
Thou art that sacred Spring,, whose waters burst
In streames to him, that seekes with holy thirst;
Thrice happy man, thrice happy thirst to bring
The fainting soule to so, so sweet a spring;
Thrice happy he, whose well resolved brest
Expects no other aide, no other rest;
Thrice happie he, whose downie age had bin
Reclaim'd by scourges, from the prime of sin,
And early season'd with the taste of Truth,
Remembers his Creator in his youth.

Eleg. 10.

Knowledge concomitates Heavens painefull rod,
Teaches the soule to know her selfe, her GOD,
Vnseiles the eye of Faith, presents a morrow
Of joy, within the sablest night of sorrow,
Th'afflicted soule abounds in barest need,
Sucks purest honie from the foulest weed,
Detests that good, which pamp'red reason likes,
Welcomes the stroke, kisses the hand that strikes;
In roughest Tides his well-prepared brest,
Vntoucht with danger, findes a haven of rest;
Hath all in all, when most of all bereaven;
In earth, a hell, in hell he findes a Heaven.

Eleg 11.

Labour perfected, with the evening ends,
The lampe of heaven (his course fulfill'd) descends
Can workes of nature seeke, and finde a rest;
And shall the torments of a troubled brest,
Impos'd by Natures all-commanding GOD,
Ne're know an end, ne're finde a period?
Deare soule despaire not, whet thy dull beliefe
With hope; heavens mercy will o'recome thy griefe
From thee, not him, proceeds thy punishment,
Hee's slow to wrath, and speedy to relent;
Thou burnst like gold, consumest not like fuell;
O, wrong not Heaven, to thinke that Heaven is cruell.

Eleg. 12.

Mountaines shall move, the Sun his circling course
Shall stop; Tridented Neptune shall divorce
Th'embracing floods from their beloved Iles,
Ere heaven forgets his servant, and recoyles
From his eternall vow: Those, those that bruise
His broken reeds, or secretly abuse
The doubtfull Title of a rightfull Cause,
Or with false bribes adulterat the Lawes,
That should be chaste, these, these, th'Almightie hath
Branded for subjects of a future wrath;
Oh, may the just man know, th'Eternall hastens
His plagues for trialls; loves the child he chastens.

Eleg. 13.

No mortall power, nor supernall might,
Not Lucifer, nor no infernall spright,
Nor all together joyn'd in one commission,
Can thinke or act, without divine permission;
Man wils, Heaven breathes successe, or not, upon it;
What good, what evill befals, but heaven hath done it?
Vpon his right hand, Health and Honors stand,
And flaming Scourges on the other hand:
Since then the States of good or evill depend
Vpon his will, (fond mortall) thou attend
Vpon his Wisdome; Why should living Dust
Complaine on Heaven, because that Heaven is just?

Eleg. 14.

O let the ballance of our even pois'd hearts
Weigh our afflictions with our just deserts,
And ease our heavie scale; Double the graines
We take from sinne, Heaven taketh from our pains;
Oh, let thy lowly-bended eyes not feare
Th'Almighties frownes, nor husband one poore teare;
Be prodigall in sighes, and let thy tongue,
Thy tongue estrang'd to heaven, cry all night long;
My soule thou leav'st, what thy Creator did
Will thee to doe, hast done what he forbid;
This, this hath made so great a strangenesse bee
(If not divorce) betwixt thy GOD, and thee.

Eleg. 15.

Prepar'd to vengeance, and resolv'd to spoile,
Thy hand (just GOD) hath taken in thy toile
Our wounded soules; That arme which hath forgot
His wonted mercy, kills and spareth not;
Our crimes have set a barre betwixt thy Grace
And us: thou hast eclipst thy glorious face,
Hast stopt thy gracious eare, lest prayers enforce
Thy tender Heart to pity and remorse:
See, see great GOD, what thy deare hand hath done;
We lie like drosse, when all the gold is gone,
Contemn'd, despis'd, and like to Atomes, flye
Before the Sunne, the scorne of every eye.

Eleg. 16.

Qvotidian fevers of reproach, and shame,
Have chill'd our Honor, and renowned Name;
We are become the by-word, and the scorne
Of Heaven and Earth; of heaven & earth forlorne;
Our captiv'd soules are compast round about,
Within, with troopes of feares; of foes, without;
Without, within, distrest; and, in conclusion,
We are the haplesse children of confusion;
Oh, how mine eyes, the rivers of mine eyes
O'reflow these barren lips, that can devise
No Dialect, that can expresse or borrow
Sufficient Metaphors, to shew my sorrow!

Eleg. 17.

Rivers of marish teares have over-flowne
My blubber'd cheeks my tongue can find no Tone
So sharpe as silence, to bewaile that woe,
Whose flowing Tides, an Ebbe could never know:
Weepe on (mine eyes) mine eyes shall never cease;
Speake on (my Tongue) forget to hold thy peace;
Cease not thy teares; close not thy lips so long,
Til heaven shal wipe thine eies, & heare thy tongue:
What heart of brasse, what Adamantine brest
Can know the torments of my soule, and rest?
What stupid braine, (ah me!) what marble eye
Can see these, these my ruines, and not cry?

Eleg 18.

So hath the Fowler, with his slye deceits,
Beguil'd the harmelesse bird; so with false baits,
The treach'rous Angler, strikes his nibbling prey;
Even so my Foes, my guiltlesse soule betray;
So have my fierce pursuers, with close wiles
Inthralled me, and gloried in my spoiles;
Where undermining plots could not prevaile,
There mischiefe did with strength of arme assaile;
Thus in afflictions troubled billowes tost,
I live; but tis a life worse had, than lost:
Thus, thus o'rewhelm'd, my secret soule doth cry,
I am destroy'd, and there's no helper nigh.

Eleg. 19.

Thou great Creator, whose diviner breath
Preserves thy Creature, joyst not in his death,
Looke downe from thy eternall Throne, that art
The onely Rocke of a despairing heart;
Looke downe from Heaven (O thou) whose tender care
Once heard the trickling of one single teare;
How art thou now estranged from his cry,
That sends forth Rivers from his fruitfull eye?
How often hast thou, with a gentle arme,
Rais'd me from death, and bid me feare no harme:
What strange disaster caus'd this sudden change,
How wert thou once so neare, and now so strange!

Eleg. 20.

Vanquisht by such, as thirsted for my life,
And brought my soule into a legall strife,
How oft hast thou (just GOD) maintain'd my cause
And crost the sentence of their bloudie lawes?
Be still my God, be still that GOD thou wert,
Looke on thy mercy, not on my desert;
Be thou my Iudge betwixt my foes and me;
The Advocate, betwixt my soule & Thee;
'Gainst thee (great Lord) their arme they have advanc'd,
And dealt that blow to thee, that thus hath glanc'd
Vpon my soule; smite those that have smit thee,
And for thy sake, discharge their spleene at me.

Eleg. 21.

What squint-ey'd scorne, what flout, what wrymouth'd scoffe
That sullen pride e're tooke acquaintance of,
Hath scap'd the furie of my Foemans tongue,
To doe my simple Innocencie wrong?
What day, what houre; nay, what shorter season,
Hath kept my soule secure, from the treason
Of their corrupted counsels, which dispensed
Dayes, nights and houres, to conspire my end?
My sorrowes are their songs, and as slight fables,
Fill up the silence of their wanton tables;
Looke downe (just God) & with thy powre divine
Behold my Foes; They be thy Foes, and mine.

Eleg. 22.

Yet sleeps thy vengeance? Can thy Iustice be
So slow to them, and yet to sharpe to me?
Dismount (just Iudge) from thy Tribunall Throne,
And pay thy Foemen, the deserved lone
Of their unjust designes; Make fierce thy hand,
And scourge thou thē, as they have scourg'd my lād
Breake thou their Adamantine hearts, & pound thē
To dust, and with thy finall curse confound them;
Let horror seize their soules; O may they bee
The scorne of Nations, that have scorned thee;
O, may they live distrest, and die bereaven
Of earth delights, and of the joyes of Heaven.