I am in a streight betweene two, having a desire to be dissolv'd, and to be with Christ.
1
What meant our carefull parents so to weare,
And lavish out their ill expended houres,
To purchase for us large possessions, here
Which (though unpurchas'd) are too truly ours?
What meant they, ah what meant they to indure
Such loads of needlesse labour, to procure,
And make that thing our own, which was our own too sure.
2
What meane these liv'ries and possessive kayes?
What meane these bargaines, and these needlesse sales?
What need these jealous, these suspitious wayes
Of law-devis'd, and law-dissolv'd entailes?
No need to sweat for gold; wherewith, to buy
Estates of high-priz'd land; no need to tie
Earth to their heires, were they but clog'd with earth as I.
3
O were their soules but clog'd with earth, as I,
They would not purchase with so salt an Itch;
They would not take, of Almes, what now they buy;
Nor call him happy, whom the world counts rich:
They would not take such paines, project and prog,
To charge their shoulders with so great a log;
Who has the greater lands, has but the greater clog.
4
I cannot do an act which earth disdaines not;
I cannot think a thought which earth corrupts not;
I cannot speake a word which earth prophanes not;
I cannot make a vow earth interrupts not;
If I but offer up an early groane,
Or spread my wings to heav'ns long long'd for Throne
She darkens my complaints, and drags my Offring downe.
5
Ev'n like the Hawlk, (whose keepers wary hands
Have made a prisner to her wethring stock)
Forgetting quite the pow'r of her fast bands,
Makes a rank Bate from her forsaken Block,
But her too faithfull Leash does soone restraine
Her broken flight, attempted oft in vaine;
It gives her loynes a twitch, and tugs her backe againe.
6
So, when my soule directs her better eye
To heav'ns bright Pallace (where my treasure lies)
I spread my willing wings, but cannot flie,
Earth hales me downe, I cannot, cannot rise;
When I but strive to mount the least degree,
Earth gives a jerk, and foiles me on my knee;
LORD, how my soule is rackt, betwixt the world and Thee.
7
Great GOD, I spread my feeble wings, in vaine;
In vaine I offer my extended hands;
I cannot mount till thou unlink my chaine;
I cannot come till thou release my Bands:
Which if thou please to break, and then supply
My wings with spirit, th'Eagle shall not flie
A pitch that's half so faire, nor half so swift as T.
BONAVENT. Cap. 1. Soliloq.
Ah sweet Jesus, pierce the marrow of my soule with the healthfull shafts of
thy love, that it may truly burne, and melt, and languish with the onely desire
of thee; that it may desire to be dissolv'd, and to be with thee: Let it hunger
alone for the bread of life; let it thirst after thee, the spring and fountaine
of eternall light, the streame of true pleasure: let it alwayes desire thee, seek
thee, and find thee, and sweetly rest in thee.
