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Francis Quarles: Hosanna or divine poems on the passion of Christ and Threnodes

Edited by John Horden
Quarles, Francis (1592-1644)

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HOSANNA,
 
VPON THE DAY OF OVR SAVIOVRS NATIVITY.
 
Borne of a Virgin.
 
Borne in Augustus time.
 
Borne in Winter.
 
Borne in the Night.
 
The Angels tell it to the Shepheards.
 
Of the Starres that appeared to the wise men.
 
Of the wise men.
 
Of the Innocents.
 
Of St. Stephen.
 
Of our Saviours Circumcision, or New-yeares day.
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Vpon Our Saviours Passion.
 
They put a Crowne of Thornes upon his head.
 
They gave him Vineger and Gall, Mat. 27. And Wine mingled with Mvrrh, Mark 15.
 
They compell'd Simon of Syrene to beare his Crosse.
 
Crucified.
 
Crucified between two Theeves.
 
The Earth did quake.
 
The Sunne was in a totall Eclips, and not as naturally it should have been in the Sign with the Moon.
 
The Graves opened, and many of the Saints arose.
 
Buried in a Garden.
 
Buried in a new Tombe hewen out of a Rock.
 
The Mount of Olives.
 
Whit-Sunday: There was a noise from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind.
 
There appeared unto them Tongues.
 
Tongues of fire, and sate upon each of them.
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Threnodes On the Lady Marsham, late wife to Sir William Marsham of High Laver in the County of Essex Bnt AND William Cheyne Esquire the late Husband to That Vertuous and Mournefull Lady Lucie, Youngest Daughter of Sir Thomas Barington Knight and Baronet.
 
THRENODES Consecrated To the pretious Memory OF The Lady Marsham.
 
Threnodes On William Cheyne Esquire.

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16

Buried in a Garden.

After his spirituall death, first Adam's cast
Out of the Garden, where he had been plac'd.
After his Corporall, second Adam's put
Into a Garden, and there closely shut.
The first had not gone out but for his sin,
And but for ours, the second not come in.
Hee's in a Garden laid, not as one dead,
But as a living Plant set in a bed:
Set in the Spring, and without aid of showres
Sprung in the spring-time, like to other flowres
To which he gave the beauty that they have,
And that's the reason, that the spring's so brave,
Nay, wholesome as 'tis brave; for in that place
Sprung up (if ever) that rich herbe of grace.
Our Herbalists have writ that Serpents feare
The vertue of that herbe, nor dare come neare
Her soveraigne powre; I care not though they misse
I'm sure th' old Serpent dares not come neere this.
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