Divine poems Containing The History of Ionah. Ester. Iob. Sampson. Sions Sonets. Elegies. Written and newly augmented, by Fra: Quarles |
 |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
Meditat. 9.
|
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
|
| 3. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| 23. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIIII. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIIII. |
| XXV. |
|
| I. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| II. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| III. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| IIII. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
 | Divine poems |  |
Meditat. 9.
Is fasting then the thing that God requires?Can fasting expiate, or slake those fires
That sinne hath blowne to such a mighty flame?
Can sackcloth cloth a fault? or hide a shame?
Can ashes, clense thy blot? or purge thy'offence?
Or doe thy hands make heaven a recompence,
By strowing dust upon thy bryny face?
Are these the trickes to purchase heavenly grace?
No, though thou pine thy selfe with willing want;
Or face looke thinne, or Carkas ne're so gaunt,
Although thou worser weeds then sackcloth weare:
Or naked goe, or sleepe in shirts of haire,
Or though thou chuse an ash-tub for thy bed,
Or make a daily dunghill on thy head,
Thy labour is not poys'd with equall gaines,
For thou hast nought but labour for thy paines:
Such holy madnesse God rejects, and loathes,
That sinkes no deeper, than the skin, or cloathes:
'Tis not thine eyes which (taught to weepe by art)
Looke red with teares, (not guilty of thy hart)
41
Nor yet the purer squinting of thine eye;
'Tis not your mimick mouths, your antick faces,
Your Scripture phrases, or affected Graces,
Nor prodigall up-banding of thine eyes,
Whose gashfull bals doe seeme to pelt the skyes;
'Tis not the strict reforming of your haire
So close, that all the neighbour skull is bare;
'Tis not the drooping of thy head so low,
Nor yet the lowring of thy sullen brow,
Nor wolvish howling that disturbs the aire,
Nor repetitions or your tedious prayer;
No, no, 'tis none of this, that God regards;
Such sort of fooles their owne applause rewards,
Such puppet-plaies, to heaven are strange, & quaint,
Their service is unsweet, and foully taint,
Their words fall fruitlesse from their idle braine;
But true repentance runnes in other straine;
Where sad contrition harbours, there the heart
Is truly'acquainted with the secret smart
Of past offences, hates the bosome sin
The most, which most the soule tooke pleasure in;
No crime unsifted, no sinne unpresented
Can lurke unseene; and seene, none unlamented;
The troubled soule's amaz'd with dire aspects
Of lesser sinnes committed, and detects
The wounded Conscience; it cryes amaine
For mercy, mercy, cryes, and cryes againe;
It sadly grieves, and soberly laments,
It yernes for grace, reformes, returnes, repents;
I, this is incense, whose accepted savour
Mounts up the heavenly Throne, & findeth favour:
I, this is it, whose valour never failes,
With God it stoutly wrestles, and prevailes:
42
Never returning home (like Noah's Dove)
But brings an Olive leafe, or some encrease,
That workes Salvation, and Eternall Peace.
| Divine poems | |